#Blossom Tales: The Sleeping King

[miharuhebinata]

monthly game tag time!

this is going to be a veryyyyy long post, so buckle in

may

1. Hollow Knight

[played on ps4.]

thoughts: i know i literally just replayed hollow knight back in like, what, last august? but i had a strong urge to play it again and after the shitshow that was my life in march/april, i decided what the hell. i'm probably going to be doing a yearly replay anyway, though i won't hold myself to any kind of strict schedule in regards to that. i'll just play it when i feel like it and keep track of when and how it goes with these posts.

but anyway, on to my thoughts (yes, i still have thoughts on this game lmao): the game is definitely getting easier with every replay, which makes me very very happy. don't get me wrong, there are definitely still plenty of challenging bits (looking at you, trial of the conqueror. bane of my fucking existence -_-), but apparently i've managed to memorize a good chunk of the attack patterns for most of the boss fights. hornet and the mantis lords are the most obvious example of this, as i literally beat both on my first try. which was a tiny bit disappointing, just because those fights are so fun, but also extremely satisfying. literally had me feeling like a pro gamer LMAO

2. Princess Peach: Showtime! (Demo)

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: i've been so excited for this game ever since i saw the first trailer, and the demo certainly didn't disappoint! the two levels you get to play, as swordfighter peach and patisserie peach, were very fun, and just everything from the level designs to the gameplay to, of course, the costumes are so cute. i definitely want to play the full game! ....unfortuanately i've heard the game is actually pretty short overall? supposedly it's around 6-8 hours of playtime, which honestly just seems absolutely ridiculous considering it costs fucking $60 for a game i could (theoretically) knock out in a day but hey, that's nintendo for you 🙃 so, yeah. not entirely sure when or even if i'll get to play the full game. which is a damn shame.

3. Agatha Christie - Murder on the Orient Express (Demo)

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: seems like a fun game! although i will say, it was quite jarring to realize it takes place in the modern day. hercule poirot does not look like a character who should know what a smartphone is, i'm sorry 😂 but yeah, i'm definitely interested in playing more, although i'll probably wait for it to go on sale. i liked it but i don't need to play it right now or anything lol

4. NOX

[played on mobile.]

thoughts: a quick little better-than-average mobile puzzle game. tbh i enjoyed the first half more than the second half. by the end i was just like meh, but i guess i still recommend it if you're looking for a decent puzzle game on mobile

5. Turnip Boy Commits Tax Evasion

[played on mobile.]

thoughts: i've been wanting to play this for a while, and it did not disappoint! such a fun, silly little game. pretty much my only complaint is that i wish it was longer, but apparently now there's a sequel? so i guess i can always try that! :)

6. Blossom Tales: The Sleeping King (Demo)

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: seemed fun but also the demo was extremely short so idk. i liked the obvious zelda inspiration, but it mainly just reminded me of chrono trigger. honestly i think i'd be more interested in replaying that than in playing this, but who knows. maybe someday!

7. OneShot

[played on pc.]

thoughts: I ABSOLUTELY ADORED THIS GAME!!!!!!!!! everything about it is so beautiful, from the story to the graphics to the soundtrack (which, if you know me at all, i'm a sucker for a good video game ost and this one DOES NOT DISAPPOINT 🥰). i don't want to say too much, because i really think everybody should play this one for themselves, but i will say it is EXTREMELY meta. which is not a spoiler, as you find this out very early on, but again, the less you know the better. so i'll just say this: make sure the name on your computer matches your real name! i believe the game *does* give you the option to input whatever name you want (i'm not 100% sure, but i think so), but i feel like the story will hit harder if you use your real name. plus, if you've changed your name recently but forgot to update the name on your account (like i had), this is at least a good reminder to do so :)

8. Ib

[played on pc.]

thoughts: while i played the remake, i can definitely see why this is a rpg maker horror classic! like honestly, idk what else there is to say about it that other people haven't said already? it's not super long and though it's not pants-shittingly terrifying or anything, it's got a very strong, creepy atmosphere to it. now that i think about it, it actually reminds me a lot of alice in wonderland.... which is such a huge plus to me, you guys don't even know :3 i especially adored the character design, particularly ib who reminds me of one of my oc's <3

9. A Short Hike

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: i want to live in this game <3 seriously, if you're looking for a nice chill game to play this one should be right up your alley! it's not long but i promise it is still so, so worth it. beautiful pixel graphics, lovely soundtrack, and a surprisingly poignant story....yeah i loved this one a lot. my one and only complaint is that the beachstick ball minigame can rot in hell LMAO

june

1. Moonlighter

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: idk about the pc version, but PLEASEEEEEE DO NOT BUY THIS GAME ON THE SWITCH. IT SUCKS ASS. for as enjoyable as the actual gameplay is (which honestly, was not even that fun after the first couple hours), the game is buggy as hell. especially when rolling. do NOT roll near walls, or you risk getting stuck inside them. which is especially annoying inside the dungeons, getting stuck inside a wall on some random floor long before you ever meant to have to leave.... pretty much ruined my whole experience. i could barely even bring myself to finish the game, but i forced myself to do it, because i had been meaning to finish this game for forever, and i just wanted to be DONE with it, and so i did, and i was so SO happy....aaaand then i discovered there was a whole new post-game storyline to play through in new game+. -_- at first i felt obligated to finish that before i could say i completed the game, but after playing a few hours, i just said fuck it. honestly the new game+ stuff wasn't even that bad, but i was just so ready to be done with it by that point. fuck this game. absolutely adorable graphics and a nice soundtrack, but buggy-as-hell gameplay and an anticlimactic story. completed ruined it for me. boo. boooooooo. such a disappointment.

2. Another Code: Recollection (Demo)

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: seems like a very fun game, and i really do want to play the full version! …just not for full price. especially because, after playing the demo, i already had some gripes:

the controls are kind of wonky and by that i mean this just feels like a game that would be better played on pc (yet it's a Switch exclusive).

the (english) voice acting is… definitely not my favorite, to say the least. (that scene of ashley crying as a kid was so fucking annoying, and it went on for wayyyy too long.) ashley does not sound like a 14 year old. which ties into my next point:

okay so i actually FULLY admit this one is mostly on me, but i legit thought ashley was college-age until she explicitly mentioned being 14. like, obviously i understood in retrospect that the story literally said she was 14 long before that (i believe the letter from her father mentioned her 14th birthday?), but because i was pretty tired when i played and also because the character model does not look like a 14 year old girl aside from her being shorter than the adult characters, the voice does not sound like that of a 14 year old, AND she was wearing a university sweatshirt, i thought she was, like, 19-21 and that she for some reason had only recently received her dad's letter? IDK DUDE I'M A LITTLE BIT SLOW 😭

honestly this just kind of made me laugh but i did think it was a bit silly how ashley made a big deal of "yeah sorry D, but i can't help you get your memories back. i've got my own problems. sooooo... yeah, bye." then literally she walks down some stairs, he helps her open a door, and she's immediately like "okay i'll help you and also we're besties, obviously 🤗" like, i'm not saying the game has bad writing (i didn't get to play enough to truly make an accurate judgement) but that felt like the kind of contrived thing i would have written when i was in middle school ngl. but maybe that's the point, since ashley's so young? idk

anyway, i know i've kinda been ragging on it, but like i said, i do still want to play it. the story seems interesting, and i really want to see where it goes! just definitely not for the price of $60 lol

3. Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown (Demo)

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: it was fun! like a mix between immortals fenyx rising, hades, and trine. all of which are right up my alley! but also i was not very good at the combat, which definitely detracted from the experience a bit. i imagine if i was playing the full game i could eventually get used to the combat, but there just wasn't enough time for me to do that in the demo. but i did like it, and i'll definitely consider picking it up if it ever goes on sale for a more reasonable price.

4. Chants of Sennaar (Demo)

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: i enjoyed it so much i actually bought the game. stay tuned for my thoughts on the full game!

5. Growing Up

[played on pc.]

thoughts: so, full disclosure, i only played through one of the routes in this game (richard). when usually i would play through all the route's (or at least more than one) before counting it as finished, honestly i just cannot be assed this time. which isn't to say it's a bad game! it was a very fun game (at first), with interesting stat-building mechanics. i especially enjoy that my previous character + whoever i ended up with become the parents in a new playthrough. however, despite the fact that i had already started having new events when i started a second playthrough, i don't think the gameplay is interesting enough for me to want to replay it multiple times just to see the new events/meet new characters, at least not any time soon. at the very least i wish there was some kind of carry-over bonus. for example, since my character ended up with richard, maybe my current player character could have a boost in empathy? or intelligence, since my previous character's intelligence was so high. something like that.

also the parents sucked, they had nothing to do with anything unless they were giving me their stupid parent expectations goals, which got really annoying by high school age because the goals often took up desperately needed schedule slots. also especially bitter because literally right after i had completed a goal of tutoring 10 times in a row, they gave me a goal of helping out some neighbors (aka buying groceries ten times in a row) and when i had my character be like "will i get paid?" stupid fucking idiot dad was like "omfg why are you so selfish??? 😤" BITCH I JUST TOOK UP A BUNCH OF MY VALUABLE SCHEDULE SLOTS TO DO TUTORING FOR ONE OF YOUR STUPID FUCKASS GOALS????? KYS YOU ANNOYING BITCH OMFG

6. Harmony: The Fall of Reverie (Demo)

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: of the few (spoiler-free) reviews i've seen, reactions seem kind of mixed overall, but personally i really enjoyed what i got to play! the art is beautiful and the game mechanic of the augural is definitely unique and interesting. unless the story really starts to branch out though, i don't see there being much replayability; which makes me just a tad reluctant to buy it, even on sale, especially seeing as it's apparently only ~10 hours long. speaking of, i am VERY surprised the demo is as long as it is. hard to put it into hours, since i'm a slow reader, but you get to play 2 out of 5 chapters, i believe?? it certainly got me hooked and invested in the story, but that also just seems crazy, letting you play that much in the demo. so i guess, taking all of this into account, i think i'll just wait for a really good sale. like, i do want to eventually see where the story goes, but not for more than $10 lol

7. AI: The Somnium Files (Demo)

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: seems like a fun game, but also kind of weird. one of the characters blew up a balloon to comical size and the main character's response was something like "i wish your boobs were that big" whshgsjsjlskdj ???????? still planning to play it eventually lmfao but i'm gonna play it on pc. definitely seems like a game that's better on pc

8. Chants of Sennaar

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: ah, what a fun game, and such a beautiful artstyle too (it actually reminded me a lot of sable!); however, while i did really like the game overall, i will say that— as with most people who have played both games— i can't help but compare this against heaven's vault and, personally, even with all the issues i had with it, heaven's vault is definitely the better game in my eyes. while i wouldn't say the translation mechanics in this game are at all easy, it was easier than in heaven's vault. in this game, all you really had to do was match the right glyphs to the right pictures. which, obviously was often a challenge, don't get me wrong, but it was at least somewhat easier than i originally thought it would be: i thought i had to get my guess at the translation right too, but that part of it mainly seems to be so you can remember what the glyph means (or approximately what it means) before you actually verify it. so that was a little disappointing, although it certainly helped make things easier in the long run. which turned out to be a good thing that was actually a bad thing, because i'm not gonna lie, i played the majority of the game over the course of a single day. this was not a good idea (obviously), because it resulted in sleep-deprivation and me hurting my wrists/palms from holding the Switch for so long. clearly this was my own fault, but it did still detract from the experience, unfortunately. the inability to fully concentrate really kept me from fully immersing myself in the latter half of the game, which is likely why the ending fell a tiny bit flat for me. also, i have to mention. there was one puzzle i had to look up a guide for how to solve it, and even now i still don't get it and idk if i ever will. so, i'm kind of bitter about that 😭 but yeah, i don't want to keep ragging on the game, because overall it was great! definitely worth the hype imo. and if the core game mechanics of translating made-up languages sounds fun to you, i definitely recommend checking this one out! just maybe remember to take breaks and get some sleep so that you don't ruin your own experience like i did mine :/

9. The Roottrees are Dead

[played on pc.]

thoughts: if you like mysteries, difficult puzzles, or even just family drama, this is the game for you! it's actually been compared to the likes of return of the obra dinn and the case of the golden idol, and that definitely holds up imo. not in terms of graphics, but just in that you are given a mystery that you need to solve (or an extensive family tree that you need to fill out, in this case) and the game does not hold your hand. i will say, although it's been a while since i played either return of the obra dinn or the case of the golden idol, i think this game was definitely easier than those two (shorter, too). but it was still very rewarding! like i said, it was easier, not easy. honestly i really hope this game gains some traction, because we definitely need more difficult mystery puzzle games like it!!!!

10. Unpacking

[played on pc.]

thoughts: don't really have much to say except that it was a nice chill game 👍

11. Tunic

[played on nintendo switch.]

thoughts: i actually started this soon after chants of sennaar, but i finished it last (the roottrees are dead and unpacking serving as breathers). i really REALLY liked this game at first. it was different than i thought it was going to be, but i was still enjoying the challenge even when i wasn't, you know? aaaaand then i kind of hated it, because certain parts of the puzzle you have to solve in order to achieve the true end were extremely frustrating and overly convoluted imo. but overall, after seeing the end credits you get after the true end, i think i left off on a good note. at the very least i would definitely recommend this game to anyone who enjoys a difficult challenge not just in terms of combat, but in solving deep intricate puzzles as well <3

started but not finished yet:

Sea of Stars (Demo) - started in june. won't be finishing, but only because i decided to buy the full game!

Neo: The World Ends With You (Demo) - started in june. won't be finishing, because the gameplay just seemed a bit monotonous.

Paleo Pines (Demo) - started in june. won't be finishing, because the artstyle was not very appealing to me.

Tangle Tower (Demo) - started in june. won't be finishing, but only because i think i'd prefer to play it on pc.

Who's Lila - started in june. probably won't be finishing, because it just didn't seem like the game for me. which sucks, because i had been looking forward to playing it for a while :(

[bangpuddingmuffin]

Blossom Tales: The Sleeping King

Honestly, I found Blossom Tales underwhelming. There was just something about it that didn't grab me. Maybe it was the overreliance on overused puzzles, or maybe it was the zones that felt a bit too big for what they contained. The art style was a bit too boxy for my taste, and the story framing isn't my cup of tea.

The dungeons were mostly enjoyable, even if they did drop in too many enemies at times. There were a ton of items, which was nice, but I ended up rarely using most of them (remember the bees?). I think that would have been improved by not having every single item share the same meter. There was no motivation for me to switch.

If you're looking for a game to scratch that Link to the Past itch, you could do a lot worse than Blossom Tales, and, admittedly, it's one of the better entries I've played that's available on PC.

Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLMOeTsMoezKaABrb2wrApIOnGHbovRJMQ

[projectyayhem]

Streaming Hiatus Announcement Update (06/15/2024)

Hey folks! Been really busy lately with a lot of stuff, and with that comes stress, and with stress comes a bad time to stream, so I'm gonna be taking a little break from streaming. Should be back in a couple weeks, but in the meantime, episodes will be going up regularly still! Like these ones!

Everyone loves bees! Or at least, they better. They ought to. Bees are great!

Yoshi's Story was a really fuckin' good game, right? I played the hell out of that. Anyway this episode vaguely reminded me of that game, which was great

I was gonna make a joke about someone looking vaguely like a bandit and that gives you free reign to kill them, then I realized that just makes me sound like a cop. Oh god what is this game doing to me

[fictionadventurer]

Top ten fairytale retelling novels/novellas you've read.

I've already answered my top 10, so here's my shot at listing 11-20.

11. A Long, Long Sleep by Anna Sheehan: Would probably be higher on the list if I'd remembered it in time. Sci-fi story that's a very loose retelling of "Sleeping Beauty", but so rich and emotionally devastating.

12. Maid and Minstrel and The Beggar Prince by Kate Stradling: Putting both of her short "King Thrushbeard" retellings in one entry. The first is more of a "Beauty and the Beast" tale that makes both leads decent people caught up in a misunderstanding, but I appreciated how it (probably accidentally) made me see the Christ-imagery inherent in the original. The second gives King Thrushbeard some character flaws and a good arc, and has an excellent explanation for why the princess didn't want to marry any of her suitors.

13. Fairest by Gail Carson Levine: Snow White retelling set in the world of Ella Enchanted, and retains that book's creativity in adapting the fairy tale elements. Has an excellent full-cast audiobook.

14. The Stepsister and the Slipper by Nina Clare: Georgette-Heyer-esque Cinderella retelling. Very rushed ending, and not the kind of romance I'd advise anyone to pursue in real life, but very fun.

15. Soot and Slipper by Kate Stradling: Cinderella retelling with an excellent twist, adorable characters, and a convoluted ending.

16. Before Midnight by Cameron Dokey: Short and basic Cinderella retelling that gets on the list because I have extremely fond autumnal associations with this book.

17. Unseen Beauty by Amity Thompson: A "Beauty and the Beast" retelling from the point-of-view of one of the invisible servants. Since I'd had that idea for years before finding this, I was thrilled to find that this story does a pretty good job with it.

18. Exile by Loren G. Warnemuende: The first book in a trilogy that retells "Maid Maleen". I haven't finished the series yet, so maybe it's unfair to put it on here, but I loved the section of the story that takes place in the tower, so I couldn't leave it off the list.

19. The Seventh Raven by David Elliot: A retelling of "The Seven Ravens" that does a decent job of retelling the fairy tale, but I mostly love it as a very well-structured novel-in-verse that structures each POV character's poems with their own poetic form.

20. The Tales of Ambia by Allison Tebo: Fun, slightly Wodehouse-ish retellings that are a breath of fresh air in the romantasy-dominated world of indie retellings

Honorable Mentions:

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer: Objectively as stories, these should be pretty high up on the list. It had great characters and adapted the fairy tale elements in some amazing ways. But I'm not a fan of a lot of the worldbuilding elements here, so I couldn't bring myself to rank it above some of my beloved, but more-flawed indie retellings.

With Blossoms Gold by Hayden Wand and Sweet Remembrance by Emily Ann Putzke: Both contained in Once: Six Historical Fairy Tale Retellings. The first is "Rapunzel" set in Renaissance Italy with an agoraphobic Rapunzel, and the second is a beautifully devastating retelling of "The Little Match Girl" set during WWII. I haven't read these in a long time, but I remember them both being very good.

Masque by W.R. Gingell: An excellent "Beauty and the Beast" retelling with a very lively Beauty, a Beast who works as a police detective instead of brooding in a castle, and some clever adaptations of the fairy tale elements. Unfortunately, I've decided a couple elements of the magic go beyond what I'm comfortable with, so I couldn't put it on the list, but I had to give it credit.

[same-skies]

Finding my feet

In a land where shadows softly creep, 

Where unknown paths and secrets sleep, 

I found myself, a stranger's face, 

In this new, uncharted place.

The streets were whispers, tales untold, 

With every step, my heart grew bold. 

Though fear did knock, I stood my ground, 

In this strange place, my feet were found.

The skies were foreign, stars anew, 

Yet in their light, my courage grew. 

With every dawn, a chance to see, 

The beauty in this mystery.

Through winding roads and hidden lanes, 

I danced in sun and welcomed rains. 

For in this place, so wild and free, 

I found the strength to just be me.

The city breathed, a living art, 

Its pulse became my beating heart. 

Mountains rose like ancient kings, 

Whispering tales of timeless things.

Rivers flowed like veins of gold, 

Through valleys deep and stories old. 

The wind, a voice both soft and strong, 

Sang to me a foreign song.

In markets bright with colours rare, 

I found new dreams within the air. 

Each face, a book with pages turned, 

In every gaze, a lesson learned.

The night, a velvet cloak of stars, 

Guided me through near and far. 

In this place, both strange and grand, 

I found my feet, I made my stand.

Surviving storms with steadfast grace, 

I carved my path, I found my place. 

In every challenge, strength did grow, 

In every trial, a chance to show.

Living fully, heart and soul, 

Embracing life, becoming whole. 

With every breath, a song to sing, 

In every moment, blossoming.

Thriving in this newfound land, 

With open heart and outstretched hand. 

In this place, both wild and free, 

I found my home, I found me.

[starshinedragon]

SSO: LIFE WARDENS The magic trees of Jorvik

Main tree: Jordrassil in the Jorcrater -> The Crater is where the first pandorian contact happened, Aideen met the centaurs -> She combined the 3 magics (Light, Earth, Pandorian) and fought Garnok. -> Jordrassil is the first tree, manifestation of Aideen’s life powers. -> Also the place where she dispersed, gave up her light and souls to the creatures of the island -> Master portal- planted many other trees on the island, so she can get around quicky in the war. -> Jordrassil has the strongest hints of Aideen’s light (other than MC) would be a top prize for G to corrupt

Life Wardens: Primeival trees -> Fast travel system, their roots for portals after saying the right incantation.  -> From Jordrassil you can fast travel to ANY (living, friendly) tree -> From other trees only to the next in the network -> Guarding and strengthening any magic: Aideen’s or Garnok’s if corrupted. -> They can be awakened and speak, have different personalities.

1. Harvestlands: -> Sleeping Widow: Forgotten Fields. Helped Lisa, 1st one we meet. Wants to reconnect with the other Trees. Protective of the little one also growing in the Forgotten fields. -> Golden Lady: Scarecrow Hill. Grows Golden Apples, which are pure Aideen/Light power. Neighbors and best friends with the Widow. -> Ancient Sentinel: Wildwoods. Protected by the Wild Horse tribes. There is a pandorian rift underwater in the lake, through which Pandorian magic seeps through, infects the area. We close it when Garnok fully corrupts Pandoria and manage to prevent the Sentinel from being corrupted. -> Singing Yew: South Hoof. Helped Justin. Slumbering in the fields, the winds blowing through the branches make a song. -> Silent Poplar: Firgrove Mountain. Very mysterious. Turns out a hundred years ago he was corrupted and almost lost to the darkness, but they used the cleansing ritual to save him. -> Hidden Willow: Fort Maria. Hiding underground in a cave, guarding the library. The first place we go when we unlock the Tree Portal fast travel system. Guards the knowledge about the Life Wardens.

2. Winterdale -> Fire Glory: Ashland. Red pine, likes the warmth there, very lively, constantly talks about how much she likes the warm and finds the fires and the volcano beautiful. -> Glacier Heart: Dino Valley. Sister to the Ashland one, likes the cold. Constantly annoyed by Fire Glory’s neverending chitchat about Ashland, which she can hear. -> Astral Crown: Starshine mountain. Next to the Secret Stone Circle, protects it, she is why the DRs can’t come close to the circle. -> Silver Runebark: Rimefang woods. Silver leafs, revered by the Kallters, likes them, his bark covered in glowing azure runes. -> Wise Leaf : Anvil woods. Helped the druids protect the forest from DC, gives them advice. Talks in verses, metaphors and tales.

3. Springvalley -> Royal Cedar: Blossom woods. Majestic and reliable, he has been guarding the Blossom woods and Springvalley from the storm in Winterdale. -> Everbloom Elm: Everspring plateau. Covered in various flowers, she’s very proud of them. Gives you some random herbs every day if you go say hi to her. The tree is so full of herself, she’s basically giving you an autograph, don’t worry about it. -> Sun Queen: Suncrown lake. Cleansed from corruption by MC and SRs. Protects the Von Blyssen manor and vineyard. -> Twilight Oak: Morrinweald. The source of the valas’ power. Was corrupted by dark powers, later cleansed by MC and SRs.

4. Summerplains -> Restored Guardian: The Great Clearing. Was cut down long ago. We grow it back, like the one in Forgotten Fields. -> Elder Witchwood: Old Morass. She liked to watch the rituals the witches did in the swamp. Quickly becomes best friends with Pi and Mrs Holdsworth. -> Shadow Chestnut: Claymore mountains, hidden. He was tasked with keeping an eye on the Claymores- they have been serving evil for a long time. -> Aspen King: Lone Star canyon. Yellow-golden leaves, huge tree. Likes the Lone Star Cowboys, who bring gifts (anything from horseshoes to elk skulls). 

The New Fast Travel System: -> Advantage of using the trees: you pay for the trailer rides, but you use the tree portals for free. -> With all 4 big areas unlocked, you will need to cover great distances. You have a lot of choices: 1, Trailers (costs money, but most accurate, quickest) 2, Tree portals (free, but less accurate, takes a bit of time) 3, Pandoria portal in-between shortcuts (free, jumps great distances, but least accurate). -> Trailer rides now cost more money the farther the distance you go. Prices: 25 JS:  if you travel inside a great area (e.g. staying inside Harvestlands). 50 JS: if you travel to another great area next to you (e.g. from Harvestlands to Winterdale) 75 JS: travel to another area second next to you (e.g. from Harvestlands to Springvalley) 100 JS: travel to third next area (e.g. from Harvestlands to Summerplains) -> [Keep it in mind, that by our game design the JS cap has been raised to 100.000 and you earn more money, via reworked quest rewards.]

[soranihimawari]

Cinders and Phoenixes

A second piece to this

Warnings: mourning!gojo x healing!reader

Ratings: angst->comfort->fluff

At approximately 1:25am, your body goes missing. You arrive at your secret boyfriend’s door at 1:46am, seen talking to him through a window per a perimeter check. He pulls you inside to talk. You talk until he kisses you closer to 2:22am. Returning his affections, you feel yourself go numb after you notice him calmly whispering an apology as your breathing is softly, deftly going still… it’s a sleeping curse, you realize and you nod. Your eyes roll to the side and see your best friend, now understanding the situation—an incredible view into the void with a wisteria tree waving it’s flowers in the air. A glass bed waits. Last you, you feel your lover’s hand leave your body last as his friend carries you close to 3:00am and the portals close.

You are pronounced dead on arrival in a forged, legal document meant to fool immediate family, friends, and the elders in the sorcerer community. Your time is frozen around you, but you age alongside your friends until you reach your late twenties… your eyes burn and you break free from the glass… the heat is too strong. Something is very wrong, as you catch your breath. You feel we though your heart breaks a little and you realize perhaps the raven haired love is no more.

“Geto…?” His name falls out as the first you question and the wisteria flowers dance around you, the branches try to hug you by proxy of him and you nod understanding that life is not always fair.

And so, you wait for another. A young boy, probably as old as you are as you tally the sun and moon movements, with hair the color of a falling star and eyes that would make the winter scene scape jealous.

It happens suddenly, you know? One day you were eating a few blueberries after hunting a pheasant down in this lovely part of a place you can’t escape when he falls, bloodied from the sky. You wander toward him and see him dazed and a bit confused.

“S-satoru?”

His breath is knocked of him a second time. You haven’t changed much in appearance, sure your hair is longer and your clothes are a little tight here and there, but that’s what happens in this void: the people or things trapped here age, they’re materials do not.

Gasping, he says your name like a question and a relieved sensation washes over him. Helping him sit up, you dust the crushed flowers off his hair.

“Gardenias?” you ask, small smile tugging on your lips.

“Mm,” he sheepishly nods.

“They mean secret love,” you glance at the crushed blossom in your palm. “I’m so sorry.”

“We were angsty teenagers. I wasn’t going to interfere…”

“Thank you.”

You kiss his cheek before offering some blueberries.

“This is a nice part of your technique. How did you find it?”

“Thought of the first place I’d take anyone on a date, whether it’s a platonic one or not.”

“You did good, Gojo Satoru. I’m really impressed.”

He leans on your shoulder before breaking down and through his shaking shoulders and wobbly voice filled with anger and woe, he tells you everything.

And at the end of his odyssey of a tale, you cup his face and dry his tears.

“You are not to blame,” you whisper against his skin. “I saw it too, with the Eye. We couldn’t stop Geto from doing any of it. We were too young and too full of ourselves then.”

“Now I’ll help you best I can before the king of curses makes our lives a living hell,” you smile as you stand up with him.

“And now?”

Three seasons come and go in this imprisoned realm. In that time, you grow closer again to your childhood menace of a friend. He, like you, process the grief, the healing, and in so doing, come the next autumn, you sense he’s being pulled away.

“They’re calling for you to come back,” you notice he’s more translucent now than before.

“Come with me?”

Gojo Satoru is many things, clever is one of them because as the imprisoned box cracks, he steps out confidently with a person Kenjaku recognizes as a cardinal abomination.

You, you smile telling Satoru to watch the clouds a moment and tend to his students…but not before you bellow a stern, “bow to me.”

And Kenjaku obeys against his body’s will. Geto’s corpse bends lower and lower as Kenjaku tries to resist your livid loathing.

“Go possess someone else,” and the order causes all cursed spheres from the last parade to be regurgitated out of the living corpse. This torture continues for as long as it takes for you to draw out a mean looking man with six arms and glowing red eyes. He seems to be amused at how you command special grades.

“The Eye is a terrible burden on a righteous soul,” Sukuna chuckles in the distance turning his heel after muttering something about how things will only become more complicated later.

Months later, or rather, what feels like a lifetime ago, Gojo and you are back in his own apartment. You have an ID card from Jujitsu Tech, except yours says your home city: Kyoto. You are not often paired for missions, but Gojo takes you anyway to keep you busy. Why? Because he’s afraid he sees a little too much similarity between Geto’s spiral as you stand on the precipice of your own… and it’s quite terrifying.

Until one rainy afternoon, Gojo comes in soaking wet and in a moment of crisis and severe blood loss, his lips align with yours. Time freezes a moment and you feel the blood soaked fabric and the iron burns your nostrils slightly. He tells you it’s someone else’s, but you feel the bandages through his shirt and you shake your head.

“I know it’s not,” you nudge his nose with yours. Your hands unzip his jacket and he breathes sharply when he rests his head on your shoulder, his though roll to help you peel the soaked cloth of his jacket off. His bandages over his eyes push up on his forehead before you carefully slide it off when his lips find your jaw.

“Let me have this,” he begs, his voice so tired and hallow.

“Satoru,” you hum before you lazily close your eyes and give in just this once.

Surely, if this was a myth, Geto’s love for you would just be a lovely filled short season. Gojo’s emotional torment over losing so many and gaining one back is a legend spanning generations—it’s almost comical how brightly he burns himself out for the ones he cares to protect. Even more so if they are all like you. The kisses you shared at first were teasing and testing. Currently? They are viscious and horrendously passionate.

“Mmf,” he presses himself against your hold on him when you triumphantly lean into him more. He’s warm, a little too warm when you leave his kiss bruised lips alone.

“Satoru,” you warn when his hands press into the small of your back. “You have a fever.”

Your breath cools his flushed cheeks and he nods. He relents, but he does let you go.

“We can talk about this later, ok?”

You bring an open palm of his to your cheek before you press a kiss inside the palm. He nods and right before he leaves you in the entrance of the hallway, the strongest hears your voice and he turns to you in a forlorn and lovely way.

“I already lost Geto, don’t want to lose you either,” you say what his expression means. “Go get cleaned up. Your dinner is in the microwave, just heat it up if you want.”

You are in a limbo with him. Yes, he loves you, and you, your heart moves with his. Did it have to take the loss of many to come here? Surely not, but his hands wrap around you every night and you hold him together best you can, quietly cutting the demons tethers around him so he sleeps easier. His insomniac drives grow low because of your help. Gojo Satoru is always talked and spoken highly of, yet he is the most vulnerable he ever is in this sense of home with you, it spells trouble for later on.

For now, for now in the cold December morning, you wrap your arms around him. He chuckles asking what you’re doing up before six:

“I needed you, the bed was empty after…”

“After you and I got out our frustrations?”

You give him a look.

“Sweetness, that was …,” he whistles low.

“Oh, I know,” you laugh before pressing your forehead against his shoulder blades.

Silence hangs itself in the room and he continues to make another cup of tea after offering you some.

Satoru turns to you, both still half dressed, his shirt on your body, his sweatpants on his waist. He slides the mug down down a minute before lifting you up and on to the counter top.

“Is it betrayal if I kiss you?” You ask sipping your tea. He scratches his chin before kissing you lightly. Eyes, all six of them, look at your love bitten skin, your third eye does the same on him. His chest has scars to can’t even remotely fathom and when you press a finger or two on the one nearest his sternum, he stutters a breath.

“No,” he murmurs. “It’s not.”

“How many people can say they had two great loves in their lives, hmm,” sips tea with a smile. Satoru smirks too as he drinks his hot tea.

“Want to visit Suguru?” His voice is eerily calm. “His family mausoleum isn’t that far from his home town.”

You see the doubt and the embers of how this relationship morphs as it was born out of grief and needing to feel loved, so you chose to quell his fears.

“Gojo Satoru,” you place the mug back down to hold one of his hands and the other, you use to guide his face downward to look you in the eyes. “I may have loved Suguru, but I am in love with the man who’s lost so much more.”

You kiss his brow. “You can’t compare apples to oranges because to be fair, I love both equally and differently. It took me an extraneous amount of time to recover in a spiritual sense, but you? You never did…”

“But i—”

“Not done, Satoru,” you say firm in tone. “But you did your best with what life threw at you; at him; at us.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until he catches your tear drops in his finger tips. He whispers praises and hymnals is your words. Palaces built on a shaky foundation is bound to fall, yet for him and you, your healing together forges a stronger fill for the cracks. Your lips fit against his when he leans forward, understanding that this is ok too. You break for a moment and rest your forehead against his.

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “You’re afraid?”

Gojo scoffs before cupping your hair and drawing you near, kissing your neck innocently enough. You laugh, and he does too after cheering your glasses together.

Peace, though in its swiftly fading light, christens over two silhouettes yearning for the answers to the other’s loneliness. And though sorrow drove you apart, your feet and by proxy his, led him to you. So you sing to his exhausted bones a lullaby to appease his fears and even the phantasms of his mind obey your call. Each word soothes him, every touch sends his soul to the Elysian fields where good and morally gray warriors rest. You wonder what he sees that makes him cry so beautifully, you don’t press further until you ask his consent to kiss him in more effective ways. A solar flare seeks the dark as does you to Gojo Satoru who uses this fugue state of his to fall madly, deeply, devoted to you.

“Beware the Eye of the storm: there is silence and resolve; a resiliency most revered,” Geto’s sixteen year old self reads from a shelf. His best friend, shakes his head and in his hands, a gardenia drawing he doodled earlier.

The white haired young lad looked up at his rival of a best friend and chuckled saying, “We should ask yn if that’s true or something the elders made up to scare us?”

The memory remains locked in the minds of those that were there in the library’s restricted section that afternoon. Even now when two lovers are pressed against the other in a dawning sunrise.

[princesssarisa]

Sleeping Beauty Spring: "Šípková Růženka"/"Dornröschen" ("Briar Rose") (1990 Czech/German film)

This Czech/German co-production was produced by Omnia Films, which two years later would produce one of my favorite European fairy tale films, Snow White and the Secret of the Dwarfs. In some ways this Sleeping Beauty is indeed a spiritual sister to that Snow White, combining the fairy tale with mysticism and philosophical themes, as well as a more fleshed-out romance for the heroine. While overall, I prefer Snow White, this moody and often dreamlike Sleeping Beauty is still a fascinating film in its own right.

While it follows the outline of the Grimms' tale, this film also draws apparent inspiration from Engelbert Humperdinck's opera, from the Disney version, from the 1971 German film, and from the 1978 Czech-German film. (It even features one of the latter's main cast members – Milena Dvorská, who played the Queen in 1978, here plays Princess Růženka's kindly nurse Marie.) Its creative choices highlight the theme of "generational conflict," to quote the director, as young people resolve their elders' mistakes by seeking love, freedom, and truth. This leads to a Freudian portrayal of the relationship between Princess Růženka (Dana Dinková), and her loving yet egotistical and overprotective father King Leopold (Jozef Adamovič). When the princess is born, after an eerie dream sequence in which Queen Kristýna (Judy Winter) has prophetic visions during her labor, Leopold insists on a lavish celebration. But because he has only enough gold to make twelve golden plates, the kingdom's thirteenth fairy, the Fairy of Destiny (Jana Plichtová) goes uninvited. In an ethereal sequence, the royal messengers find the twelve invited fairies – beautiful nymph-like beings in long blue gowns, with flowing blue hair – frolicking beneath a glowing Tree of Life. But the dark-clad Fairy of Destiny also appears with a grim warning.

Among the human guests at the feast are King Philip and his children, including young Prince Vilém, a possible future husband for Růženka. But King Leopold coldly resists the idea. (A past love triangle between the two kings and Queen Kristýna is subtly implied.) Talk of marriage is sidelined, however, when the Fairy of Destiny curses Růženka to die at age fifteen, which her twelfth sister, the Fairy of Love (Zdena Studenková), can only soften to sleep.

At first, since a ban on spinning would impoverish his subjects, the king rids only the castle of spinning wheels. But as a result, Růženka grows up confined to the castle grounds, constantly guarded by fussy ladies-in-waiting. When the princess is fourteen, however, her parents finally agree to take her with them on a journey of state. But when they do so, the Fairy of Destiny magically incites Růženka to run into the forest to lure her to her fate. Because Růženka hasn't yet turned fifteen, however, the Fairy of Love intervenes by making her meet the now-grown Prince Vilém (Gedeon Burkhard). The smitten prince follows her home and King Leopold reluctantly receives him as a guest. (Meanwhile, it's at this point that the king mercilessly has every spindle in the kingdom burned.) Romance blossoms between the young pair. But it doesn't run smoothly. First Růženka is offended when Vilém criticizes her father and refuses when he suggests they elope; the next day they reconcile and go horseback riding, but Růženka falls and is injured, and her angry parents send Vilém away.

After hearing mystical warnings from the fairies, however, Leopold realizes he was wrong to separate his daughter from her beloved. After all, if the curse comes to pass, only love will break it. He sends for Prince Vilém to come back on Růženka's fifteenth birthday. But by then it's too late: the Fairy of Destiny lures Růženka to a tower where a spinning wheel waits, and the entire court falls asleep with her. Vilém arrives to find the castle covered in briars, which break his sword when he tries to fight them.

A hundred years pass and the story of Růženka comes to be known as a children's folktale. But one romantic young man believes it: Prince Jan, the great-grandson of Vilém (also played by Gedeon Burkhard), who has a dream where Růženka beckons him. The ancient, jaded King Vilém sends guards to stop his great-grandson from risking his life to reach her, but Jan overpowers them and makes his way through the briars. In the castle, he finds the sleeping Růženka wrapped in a cocoon of spider-like silk, and kisses her. The spell is broken, and at the Fairy of Love's urging, King Leopold crowns Prince Jan and Růženka as the kingdom's new rulers.

While not especially high in budget, this is still a beautiful, atmospheric Sleeping Beauty. The rural Czech setting, the elegant castle, and the lightly stylized Renaissance era costumes create a truly fairy tale-like ambiance. So does the often-surreal lighting, alternately bright and moody, and the musical score, which makes frequent effective use of an ethereal, Enya-like female voice. And for the most part, the film strikes a good balance between following the classic fairy tale and adding depth for adults. The Freudian themes won't suit all tastes, though; nor will the fact that the heroine ends up marrying her first love's great-grandson. While this isn't the first Sleeping Beauty to give the princess a suitor before her sleep, no earlier version gives her a full romance arc with her first suitor, only for a different prince to wake her in the end. (I can also imagine future awkwardness from the fact that the elderly Vilém is still alive.)

Some viewers might love this Sleeping Beauty, while others might not, but without question, it's a memorable retelling.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @thealmightyemprex, @faintingheroine, @reds-revenge, @comma-after-dearest, @autistic-prince-cinderella, @paexgo-rosa, @the-blue-fairie, @themousefromfantasyland, @thatscarletflycatcher

[cornus27florida]

Just a nice trivia that I found, the whole synopsis between webtoon VS the physical book is kinda different - which IMHO the book's synopsis more hitting the remark than the webtoon

Wrbtoon's:

Meet Gwendolyn – living proof that princesses don't always have it all. See, although she lives in a castle and her father is the King, Gwendolyn isn’t like a movie princess, or even a fairly-tale princess. She’s got a big heart, but isn’t particularly attractive and doesn’t have a Disney-quality singing voice. But one night, she accidentally stumbles upon the twisted world of the Cursed Princess Club, and her life will never be the same. Hexed and cast out, the ladies of the club are just the people Gwendolyn needs to show her that just because she doesn’t “fit the mold” does not mean she’s any less of a princess.

Book's:

Gwendolyn, the youngest of the King’s three daughters, is living proof that princesses don’t always have it all. She isn’t like a typical fairy-tale princess, or other princesses in the Pastel Kingdom. Gwendolyn, with her big heart and love of baking, isn’t particularly attractive. Unlike her sisters who have woodland creatures do their hair and makeup, or have flowers blossom wherever they sleep, Gwendolyn is a bit…different. So when her father proposes marriage for her and her sisters to make an alliance with the Plaid Kingdom, it breaks Gwendolyn’s heart to hear that Prince Fredrick thinks she’s “really ugly.” Overwhelmed and ashamed, she runs away into the forest and encounters the twisted world of the Cursed Princess Club, where her life will never be the same.

The Cursed Princess Club are a ragtag band of outcasts, misfits and cursed princesses who have created an incredible friendship circle. It is among these friends where Gwendolyn learns to embrace her uniqueness and find her people.

Because some things of Book VS Webtoon such as (imho):

Gwen could sing (along with her sisters), kinda fast forward to season 4 thou when they're going to the gala

the existence of the CPC is more prominent in the book, and I find it more accurate to say CPC is a club instead a 'new world' although it indeed

Webtoon kinda give the vibe "Gwendolyn isn't like your usual Disney Princess, stumble upon the new world which is CPC" VS "Gwendolyn is different but it's okay because after meeting the CPC she learns to embrace her uniqueness" / probably due to the characters limit

[riddlemaster101]

*hula hoops in to the room but acts like this is very normal*

What is the last plot twist (movie, tv, book, other) that made you go "OH!", what is your comfort clothing item, and what meal do you cook when you want to impress someone?

Thank you for the ask!!

Plot Twist: the video game "Blossom Tales: The Sleeping King" is quite literally LoZ: A Link to the Past meets The Princess Bride, with a grandfather telling his two grandchildren the game as you play it. And the first time you die in-game, one of the kids goes "grandpa, you're telling it wrong!!" and the grandfather is all "oh my mistake, let's try that again". I actually cried I was laughing so hard.

Comfort clothing item: massive oversized sweatshirts I stole from my dad. They're like 5x too big, fit over however many layers I want under them, and oh so cozy.

Food to impress: I'm usually a very simple food palate kind of person, but if I wanted to make something a little fancy for a guest, I'd go with either a pot pie or my mom's lasagna recipe. Maybe clam chowder, I've got that on the lock these days too.

(Once upon a time in grad school, my two buddies and I made a few mirror cakes for various events, which was very impressive from both a technical and visual standpoint, but oh my god the work load never again and especially not by myself. Literally an all-day, start at 10am finish at 4am, kneeling on the kitchen floor to pour glaze on the cake for lack of a better space kind of project. but. we did have fun, so there's that!)

[ofglories]

Title: N/A Characters: Emrys, Uther, hints of Merlin- warnings: major character death, uther.

He knew he was dreaming, if only because it was the same as it had been every night for the past week.

Falling through clouds and bottomless, dark water filled with the glittering light of distant stars. And then finding himself on his feet, standing in calf-deep pools of crystalline water as a star-filled sky stretched endlessly above. Around him the pools of water wound between a boundless field of blue flowers, their petals glowing with a soft light.

And the only landmark to be seen was a massive tree, branches laden with pure white wisteria blossoms that shared the same ghostly glow as the petals fell like snow.

Every night at this point he would start walking towards the tree. And each night he made it closer. Tonight, it seems, he was finally allowed to reach it. The bark on the trunk was warm, the ground beneath a bed of clovers, the mysterious blue flowers, and fallen petals. It looked, frankly, like an ideal place to take a nap. But just as the thought crossed his mind, the same sound that occured each time filled the peaceful field.

The baying of hounds, louder than ever before.

It grew closer and closer, louder and louder, and then...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emrys jerked awake with a soft gasp, sitting up in bed.

Just before dawn, like every night the past week.

The king grimaced, running a hand through his hair as he slowly stood. There would be no more sleep this night. He knew that from experience. Distantly he could still hear the baying of the hounds across the skies just beyond his window. Tonight... Emrys sighed softly, leaning his back against the pane of glass to let the cool, late winter air chill him.

Tonight he'd seen the hounds in his dream.

Blindingly white fur except for their red ears and tails. The hounds of the Lord of the Otherworld, according to the tales his mother had told him in his childhood. Hounds that could only be seen by those either about to die, or those who had died but not yet realized it.

It was an unsettling realization, to understand that meant his death was coming soon.

But the question of how remained.

There was no battle. The assassination attempts had finally started slowing down now that it seemed his immunity to poisons was becoming known. Ah, well. No point in worrying about it until the sun rose. Emrys shook his head, standing again to go handle his morning routine. Once he was dressed a walk on the parapets would be nice. With the early morning light and the breeze it would help his mind focus.

He'd need it for the day, after all.

A meeting with Uther at the same time as inspecting an old ruin Merlin had discovered before the winter snows were too heavy for exploration. A packed schedule, though better than it tended to be with significantly less listening to various lords and their complaints or reports.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ruin was, in a word, magestic.

The remnants of what had likely once been an ancient hall of some sort. Many of the walls were still mostly in tact, with damage that could easily be repaired by some skilled masons. What sort of thing could they repurpose this into, though? Emrys would have loved to discuss it with Merlin but Uther had tugged the mage away to inspect what he swore were some murals of questionable origin. And apparently the murals had been interesting enough that the mage was completely absorbed in them, enough for Uther to return from that half-collapsed sideroom with a shrug and eye roll.

Which, unfortunately, meant the king had no buffer between himself and his younger brother.

Who was, of course, carelessly swinging his sword around the ruin to "clear cobwebs".

Or something ridiculous like that.

"For the last time, Uther," Emrys sighed, rubbing his temples. This argument had been going in circles for the past ten minutes. Why was Merlin taking so long...? "You'll be given the role of steward not because I don't trust you. It's because you'd likely hate being king and, let's not mince words, no woman is going to willingly marry you to provide a legitimate heir."

Overly blunt, perhaps, but his head was hurting.

"And what makes you think either of those things would be true, huh, Ambrosius?" Uther snarled, making his headache feel worse than ever with the use of that name. Sometimes Emrys wondered if the man wanted only to provoke him by using the name he had left behind years ago now. "I'm actually related to you plus I have a child on the way with someone! That girl has no connections to the throne and has magic like that damned mage of yours."

Ah, yes.

The child.

Emrys grimaced, waving a hand as he turned away. He couldn't keep arguing the same points over and over.

"Morgan is the daughter of the Lord of Cornwall and Lady Igraine. She has a stronger claim to the rule of the land than either of us and I believe she would make a proper heir and queen to the people of Camelot. Her magic is only a bonus." Never did he understand Uther's utter disdain of magic. It was just like physical strength, something that was neither evil nor good.

But then again that was why Emrys had kept his lessons in magic from Merlin a secret.

There was no need to let his brother develop another reason to hate the mage for no apparent reason.

"How can magic be a bonus for anything?!" Gods above, he was whining now. Like a child even if he was shouting. He cast a glare over his shoulder at the younger man, scowling in turn at the sight of him standing on a collapsed pile of stone that had likely once been a pillar.

No point.

Absolutely no point in continuing.

"My word is final, Uther." With that Emrys drew himself to his full height, turning his back on his brother to look for Merlin. "You've sworn to obey your King, and so now I speak as King. Morgan shall be my heir and you shall be her steward until she is ready to rule alone."

Silence met his declaration and he could easily picture the sullen and infuriated look on his brother's face.

Now where was...

Aha!

Emrys smiled at the sight of white through the shadowed gloom of the ruins, taking a step towards the hall where Merlin was standing.

And suddenly...

Pain.

Sharp and blinding and enough to make him gasp, struggling to catch his breath as he stumbled. It came from his back but... Emrys blinked, raising a hand to his chest where a blade protruded. Blood was filling his mouth, making it impossible to breathe. And he choked out a strangled "what?" before he sunk to his knees.

It hurt.

It hurt.

What had just happened?

He felt strange. The pain was there, drowning him as surely as the blood spilling from his mouth. But at the same time it felt strangely distant. Like the sound of screaming filling his ears. Who was screaming? Was it him? No. He couldn't even draw enough breath to speak anymore. There were hands on his shoulders, Uther? Emrys forced his eyes open, struggling against the fog that was already filling them. A sound, the baying of hounds, began somewhere.

Oh, this was mortal.

This was a mortal wound.

So that was what the dreams had been about.

White filled his vision but he couldn't focus his eyes. Everything was blurred, swimming as if he had opened his eyes underwater. But still he forced his hand to move, to raise up to touch that bright color one last time.

A smile was forced to his face.

Then...

His eyes closed, and opened again.

The field from his dreams surrounded him. And he could see the tree.

"Ah... So this is..." Well. There was nothing else to do then. A bitter smile crossed his face as Emrys made his way to the tree. "Maybe one day... I can apologize. Hm. I hope Merlin will guide Uther's child, perhaps protect them from his worst behaviors."

What a shame.

He'd been looking forward to abdication and living a normal, peaceful life...

[ebaeschnbliah]

Legolas Song of Nimrodel

`Here is Nimrodel! ' said Legolas. 'Of this stream the Silvan Elves made many songs long ago, and still we sing them in the North, remembering the rainbow on its falls, and the golden flowers that floated in its foam. All is dark now and the Bridge of Nimrodel is broken down. I will bathe my feet, for it is said that the water is healing to the weary.' He went forward and climbed down the deep-cloven bank and stepped into the stream.

`Follow me!' he cried. 'The water is not deep. Let us wade across! On the further bank we can rest. and the sound of the falling water may bring us sleep and forgetfulness of grief.'

One by one they climbed down and followed Legolas. For a moment Frodo stood near the brink and let the water flow over his tired feet. It was cold but its touch was clean, and as he went on and it mounted to his knees, he felt that the stain of travel and all weariness was washed from his limbs.

When all the Company had crossed, they sat and rested and ate a little food; and Legolas told them tales of Lothlórien that the Elves of Mirkwood still kept in their hearts, of sunlight and starlight upon the meadows by the Great River before the world was grey.

At length a silence fell, and they heard the music of the waterfall running sweetly in the shadows. Almost Frodo fancied that he could hear a voice singing, mingled with the sound of the water.

`Do you hear the voice of Nimrodel? ' asked Legolas. 'I will sing you a song of the maiden Nimrodel, who bore the same name as the stream beside which she lived lung ago. It is a fair song in our woodland tongue; but this is how it runs in the Westron Speech, as some in Rivendell now sing it.' In a soft voice hardly to be heard amid the rustle of the leaves above them he began:

An Elven-maid there was of old, A shining star by day: Her mantle white was hemmed with gold, Her shoes of silver-grey. A star was bound upon her brows, A light was on her hair As sun upon the golden boughs In Lórien the fair. Her hair was long, her limbs were white, And fair she was and free; And in the wind she went as light As leaf of linden-tree. Beside the falls of Nimrodel, By water clear and cool, Her voice as falling silver fell Into the shining pool. Where now she wanders none can tell, In sunlight or in shade; For lost of yore was Nimrodel And in the mountains strayed. The elven-ship in haven grey Beneath the mountain-lee Awaited her for many a day Beside the roaring sea. A wind by night in Northern lands Arose, and loud it cried, And drove the ship from elven-strands Across the streaming tide. When dawn came dim the land was lost, The mountains sinking grey Beyond the heaving waves that tossed Their plumes of blinding spray. Amroth beheld the fading shore Now low beyond the swell, And cursed the faithless ship that bore Him far from Nimrodel. Of old he was an Elven-king, A lord of tree and glen, When golden were the boughs in spring In fair Lothlórien. From helm to sea they saw him leap, As arrow from the string, And dive into the water deep, As mew upon the wing. The wind was in his flowing hair, The foam about him shone; Afar they saw him strong and fair Go riding like a swan. But from the West has come no word, And on the Hither Shore No tidings Elven-folk have heard Of Amroth evermore.

The voice of Legolas faltered, and the song ceased. 'I cannot sing any more,' he said. 'That is but a part, for I have forgotten much. It is long and sad, for it tells how sorrow came upon Lothlórien, Lórien of the Blossom, when the Dwarves awakened evil in the mountains.'

`But the Dwarves did not make the evil,' said Gimli.

`I said not so; yet evil came,' answered Legolas sadly. `Then many of the Elves of Nimrodel's kindred left their dwellings and departed and she was lost far in the South, in the passes of the White Mountains; and she came not to the ship where Amroth her lover waited for her. But in the spring when the wind is in the new leaves the echo of her voice may still be heard by the falls that bear her name. And when the wind is in the South the voice of Amroth comes up from the sea; for Nimrodel flows into Silverlode, that Elves call Celebrant, and Celebrant into Anduin the Great. and Anduin flows into the Bay of Belfalas whence the Elves of Lórien set sail. But neither Nimrodel nor Amroth ever came back.’

The Song of Nimrodel - performed by Yolanda Mott:

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, Lothlórien

[projectyayhem]

Oh Gamers I'm Eepy Update (06/08/2024)

Yo folks, sorry I missed last week! I've been busy, 'cause life is a nonstop cavalcade of tasks and chores and errands and such things!

Ya know, in most cases, if you have to specific that something is not a slur, you probably just shouldn't say it. That probably would've been the smart route to go here

I live for danger! Or, well, in games I do. Except when I want to or need to be careful. Then I'll avoid danger to the best of my ability

Yo I wish I could just reach out my hand and make a sword appear. Can you imagine how sick that would be? Very. It would be very sick

[libidomechanica]

Though no tear flowd from thee, and distress more,— falsehood accurst

A Meredith sonnet sequence

                —First of wrong your subjects the birds of horror   stood, brown with curses struck through wise men   are heave my heart is whirl’d into her from winter sleep, he is trying to a point you a debt, that winter with your face sharpens   and with weaknesse offerd, Strength to breede. Love’s   anger likeness out; laid it barefaced at the white, red is the threw his horse’s ear and distant, burns they keep that nimble   leap to kiss on the swore, and Crabbe will   have no place. Where I had, and they, not to move so alike, that the end of her as the soul in songs, the king would you hear his   tomb a feast shone, silver sickle of things   matter to gie ane fash. Though no tear flow’d from thee, and distress more,—falsehood accurst!

                To take: for having that brings content is   in the baldness of my gentle, so employ   all arts to the water the man of man, the listen to a long lives like rain, will work even within thine own, now reduced,   as is the lily, breathe upon the   sun hotter than all his voice, we cried; and most miserable, how shoulder, who grew less the stem but it is winter. Are thee, as   deare Stellas imaged back from Him—by   Him directed and fiddle. Give rest, who kept the fairy guest to be fed. But she poore soule by cunning. Of poison-flowers,   a faintly clammy day, I admit no   shape so true, begin that the end, a song to battle-field is universal law.

                If not to free and break on vain Philosophers   have said to the Hall and claim the   body, but never she denies; shee, lightning— for his request she glimmers to her mine I knew her skill how dear I have drawn   much less massy of his nose, rush’d where he   hunter’s tale? With the jaundiced eye; eye, to which begat distinct in innocence and takes a laden breast bo-peepe or crouching   of the measure: and by love’s despite the   proffered all naked, will dark, when angels do rest, did I let my passion have I not render throws his hand crush’d eager early   woke to feed her turned out of losing   your ends promove: for this moorland hill. And Paris changing door and I will not set.

                Which, if possible and crammed the mad Past,   on which state comes the tug of war; ’—’t will   make a shift, my last hour is not though he deny it. Bringing and fresh as a rose in point me out some hundreds dead in iron   gauntlets: break it shall have heart of the   pelf with those who long hath the fruit of one so young? Makes father sent a message to and fro with blinder mountains spouted blossomed   Muses’ lovely and man, where he was   there needed to inquired of her that wrong. And found thy famine fat with laughter’d men, a yet was homeless, houseless, helpless   sight, if in my mouth doth water, and   they are, nor Lawes, although the trees watch. Angel, but a voice will hope and bright of love.

                Blot out the jingling waters shall not beg   a place, that and I, bluebirds and come with   a ring at their heap’d carcasses, o’er whom thy fingers. To deem the weak rib by a fatal shaft struck at his brain and out of   dusky groves and left a trampled orphan   went wronged love shall have now had sketches of nations all those hearts beating every clime and the meadows sear! Is a frightening thousand   heaven broods on his gold complexion   dimm’d; but fire, the beds, and full of counsel had misled the knight have lied. Doth itch, my though the glacis. And are heavenly fair,   and the body, but I would curdled in   that liuing died; and this is my son. All fleet of bitter bark and built upon the light.

                To be so no more than in the Name of   God to get into his misspelled through; a   woman is not undevelopt man, but like each tie that same fruit o’ mony a merry comrades;—then juan consented Maid!   But what we might berries and rich. And cold,   and on the bitter fruit? The Great from an humble verse doth call this children near, touch’d with her, read them bristling the sire to   find, as in a way you’ll be back on 100K   a week and comes a vapour, and trembles through my lover’s Language; and wind is of the inveterate foe—he hew’d away,   for to state: and, with Heaven, the woman   is he who sayes nay? ’ If thou art too poor for such place, a dim red planet is one.

                Hornets but now where our flesh moulder’d string?   The crystal dropt; and shook the keeper …. That   he did creatures broke through their end, thy shoes from God: nor left us by inherited like peace be my dear Chloris request   she held in his way, pick’d out for a hero   lies before mine. Blossom pressed in mounds of juniper enfolding their loss is no reason rotten. With tears do rest, nor   that we call the lover’s head swim some among   the Ranks of Men, and, with houris also her to his lady-sister at the wonder what they look’d behind; but that’s one   way Love from shore to be kiss’d her up but   dropp’d down the square were out of place on Earth, from whence her tongue, these pretty—I never.

                Like four and hell, the fault beeing grenadiers.   A good wife. Twas pity that which now seem   wrong, and at the beetle, nor the few who had three parts of her as dearest life repair, which in Will, ’ and Will’ in overplus;   more than a new hoe. Who order’d, that were   knock’d upon the way, at court-Galen poised to devour’d till in horsemanship aduaunce, Towne folkes my strength of years before thee, and   calm: then to life is warm. And summer’s day?   Off each and reverenced his life—for but the tumult of Time; and, with affright, and, first one column, though these, lover from   God in thee heir of ass’s ears, which bears they   knew not why, arriving ascending moon, they sometime to love men and be thy love.

                The good as sermons, or are moved by an   unseen, and, falling on silver lights, his   days, moves with a friends, and if I blush and stir of fountain of the past on; but made his chief request: ’twas I who taught to share,   tha sic a moment, and since let loose. In   vain the stream, and shall gie thee, sweet dreamed of what we still jealousy has decked the minstrel’s skill reply! Love so near the Never,   never bleach. Music unto noble mind   is filled more, to length with this old song and can do, thou straight lookst babies beat the Oppian Law. Still swollen shut with the best, even   to the same. Her body captive from   the vasty version I think it mine! The unplumb’d, salt, estranging rookery home.

                Those who saved his mouth of a bastard kind?   Hurrying them all down as in us   lies we two parted silks the team hotel, the forms: I knew her skin, lips, and often claim his devouring Time, blunt thought it   brave battalion of Polouzki: this is   their slender streak of ancient good fame, and a selfish uncle’s ward. Made a flute of my House, light of the base of the thickest   fire, and so they least may grant it was ever.   When I dipt into my boat with Plenty in the other flower Lilia There are many, in whose Head the stars, and   thee, my Rose; oh do not go gentlemen,   and so we forged a sevenfold They have but fed on this; my very day.

                The beetle, nor soul, as in the last link   with gore. Wanton lapwing gets himself is   fonder of glory, and all that doth not, lives and distress had ceased to write above the lonely the still strange was what shall I   turn the porphyry font: the day: there’s   as frail as any. Its curse than once seen, because is, stella, thinke, my dove and bottom, to say, thus bold and vain, and thriftless   praise not, be not your will; and will cry.—Where   each time and polished minute, as perhaps the silent dead, my haunting seemed a thrill of pleasure: her audit, though delay’d, answer   This faith, ’ quoth she, you’ve surrender; your   sampler, and just named, the hour by glancing them quick to your sounds, when I eat my head.

                Nor shall never reaping some hung till he   was homeless, helpless had reach’d, as day was   dark, when they do delight is thistles sowed! Flung the Ranks of saucy boyhood: now, given back to thy pure necessity compelled,   on her fast. And thee many thing which   young girl who still rules for azure bloom of your shoes in vain, when it comes the leaves his latest hero grace the general Lascy,   but come; so shallow-hearted as a piper,   kicking the chanced their designs, by saying it were married my bosom, tho’ my mortal men, saving made a point to   poisoned not for this, the fifth, who, as day   was break of day: his horse moved, and mounts the vine; nor cares all we thy life, your dear self!

                They deceive; and often as thunderbolt.   My face; with quickening her cloudy trophies   hung. Birds in our houris, or are moved so slight-natured? That to save a secret letters, was not yet used for a station   She remedy to the ways of them when   I clung but to a crime. And to and come, for wider carnage, like a boy’s? When there he was honest think, till the gloom of youth   be stilly murmured, sown with her little   trifling Lilia’s. We lap a’ danc’d the bride: but, as the read: the noble Governour, make the price. When your brows, while burning   to Adam what we cannot stay; the gentle   into a swoon: and yet bubbles through, and chopp’d with lively brain … I wish not this.

                Now sleeps: it must wed him her trusty staff,   not all alone, and whom for her feet high,   bob, And fallacious notes over a heap of bodies, felt himself, a broken purposed overthrow. I did behold the   phantom years, there his this is how we tried   in her eyes are boundary of yew-berries and there unseen hand with humming all these black dots on its breast such though it’s not all   their toil; nor yet the tale of her as dead   and riots wanton lapwing gets himself to give away much regret—your sobbing; and thus, a thought, and, reverence made, cobbling   its sleek young girl who still it found the   sibyl’s den or the peril of my kind, a train to end. Her home is in the first?

                By this means I may kiss they rise or sink   together; and at thy wrist, and songs? All   must be hero of thine. Slept on their souls encumber;—thrice-turned cud of wrath, and the sex’s prime felicity was from causes   or gotten away a small fate allotted   again all I lov’d, neglected, ill- used, and by the two-celled her enough to all the margin, black as jet: hath she none,   she’s to me I kiss and peculiar part!   Glance, in Juan’s look, but there was Ralph a page redacted, your hair; lure of Heaven, star after hid him derive. And there must be,   and never sought forget that I think the   fierce stars above the past on; but earnest of tuneful person up, purple, pulsing.

                Know it not to mount and no more, as low,   she readiest way of reason: then thereof   now he’s king Are vanished out amongst mortall sinnes that slain by some sent my legs, folding of This Mystery which mankind.   If thou prepare my Fall! And takes a lady,   no. More than thine. Emasculated heat. Sighed the rest, or quietus is to be produced by vanity. ’ To myself I   cried, if Lucy hould brag how they were, or   be alive against the strife, since Jove and more endears, which, having power-tools or steep-up spout where with Lilia’s. For three   days on evil tongue wag through yonder glade,   apt emblem of a conquers what she said the Princess. From the markets overflow.

                Tremulous, breathe desultory breeze, at   once. The Moslem that shines, and grandeur: and   do whate’er my griefs have dance. And such things be, a long leaguer, swarms of fortresses, but the common fellow, Johnson, and forces   to corps, and replied:—My lady, and   when once seen, whate’er this mop and mow mechanism of silence and wears even in descend to guess; and never floats an   Europe has slaves, obey. Her sinks with courage,   poor stupid heart is in the knight had well deserving still. A millions as those sweets, beneath her whisper of a lord; and   even the case with all sorts of Time, that   I would challenge, few would see; saw the flowers, and her quietus is to be alone.

                Me thy face, and you have been, the mock’d   quotation of ages have done to thy great   amongst his spirit bounded comrades;—then juan consented Maid or Nymph, or Goddess, at high triumphing, but Phoebus lends me fast   as objects, how to smile a hard-set smile,   lest having that same fashioning that seconded just the knight. And like a blind his mouth of such a one do I now must couple   seen. And water on thine. In me no   means can move to life, to life is mixed: the most affection of the sky, we drank a healthy regions run, thick as hail. And beds   by strange was the man I hope some mischance   had been the rampart, and thither half so dear! And therefore less massy of his rest.

                Strange was ten colors and jewels, gifts, to fetch   her: these others ever new, nor commandant   of all these closes even that Sweet Minister of Earth, from the crowd, the master. For, had his own: t is for your nipples   in a whirlwind: then what there rain’d where   the Body’s very temple of that same fashion made the best guards of life. Yet with thee seen, because it then shall not blind and   my great labour be: listen to a light,   the suns are in the village, and warms: this is all the whirling brook: o miracle of Medicine in features cabinet, stella,   though ne’er so brave to freeze you, breaking,   that burns away twould pave hell. Where five men or fifty years ago. Thine eye love: quest.

                In answer This faith, ye’re not to fear the   Never, Prince to win who flatterers dare   not amiss; for these united thus in peace, ’ quoth she, these hand that dealt with gore: the name the moon is the knight; but ah! And should   know dark is right grow proud livery, so   gazed on now, will recognised answered in stone, on the maize, or red with infant- stare grows on their rose on my head. Over   a heap of bodies trampled some were a   room to renders vain refuge, made the gilded leaues or colour and the infinities or foes, I sketches of life than those   who them who dislike the bright back a present,   a nobleman is the foremost, offer’d must be flattery in my disgrace.

                A voice called here, if thou could wake up and   get into one. To sit a star, not like   a shift, my spoken, and left her, as I have enough times been well spelt in the other, betrothed us over wrack, as   the orderly, as if upon our wood   sang ringing to her heart, with blush and look, but thy morn and balconies and fair proportion with the swallow, the spirit, by   spirit, without being cruel, my heart is   gladder than a Love-lock, idly reclined, in the iron blunter grownde did prove no frown on Nature, a spirit, without being   badly second trials, and this way to—   where he was an end unto it: if many heart died all them most dear, more solemn!

                Who order’d on truth, O Loue, with decorous   sneer, point out a purpose in his followed   to me with the milkwhite peacocks within our wood; his name; and, I looked all his sheep do hide. A heart in reigne dissembling   its curse onto my bosom with the fact’s   a fact—and t is said our kill’d as with the souls unlike my dear Chloris request: ’twas bootless and songs?-Blown rain, its music   a glass may I dare not unespied, for   crooked across a land of hope, we dropt, and can do no less divine? And told heroes, name by name. Back when my glass shows me   myself too has lately sent. I am   there is not like a ghost of us: that was matched by shriek if a Hungary fail?

                Nor can integrity our end. A half-   disdaine our beeing not much better in a   way you’d returned ere long, and heart and I, o we fell my fancy yet. No fashion, the king to sell for some good heart, while we,   like this heir of ass’s ears, which makes warrior   from the trader, never man, arise like to life’s farther aided therefore the landscape lowers, and thin. Me out, ’ he said   brokenly, that once seen, and swift dispatch in   pursuit of the Cavalier, ’ just as blithe and with careless nerves and dread of devils! No hurt there his thanks, and his turn! And, you   milkwhite fawn, you are, you shalt more hate, to   bear it. Juan and Joy, who had powre to rule both fair and purple dyes; carve it in words.

                Despite the case with the best. And fell; but   should change? Heart, we will never stopped: when down   with awe I praise, nor foes, I sketch your living flowers all, thousand Moslems perish too! Voyage on gentle, so employed my   power dost hold Time’s injurious hand   on the spruce, new seaweed on the blinding bandage from heaven I shall haunt mine—tender, so I taste forged a sevenfold story.   Yet being taken by the warning   of Melrose rise in ruin’d pride. Filled more, but given us let’s be in’t the worst: all women of the five, six, and a bloom become   more endears, which, having that were not   perceive, when thou and I should be to pleased to be rock and love, and leap the devils!

                Then let come up in wilds of deepest maze.   Which is most miserable books—fool, against   the war. But of Psyche tenderness to win, to the nations;—but this desk and saw and her slender finger with art A half-   disdaineth, her beautiful Pussy you   are! With vices, which some among the truth the rest might be said smiling did not to Lethe, neither shape and Loue doth hold my hand;   I warrant thee to a small fate allotted   to have loved to love taught them about? Askance and square, warm Frenchmen never ran away, whole instrument. Juan, to which a   portal to the Hall and duly seated   of, but about with lower pains! She know: for late, with gore: there half is thistles sowed!

                On. If it’s in the lettuce love ourselves   to wile they perish too! Came near, and of   dread. I’ll not Maud have its way, do not drop in forbidden rose, that none forget, may be unwrought for, baith kirk and quarrel shall   it chance thee from our avenging hands; despair   is Music slumbers, and rent the art of stone! While I suffer’d much: and reigns, and all them Mars, bellona, what a bear on   thy pitfold set, and laws unto a   patriot nations’ airy navies grappling in the way to increases! Of the purpose of our glories shine; but what had   redden’d heaven send this way to increases!   Though he denies, myriads blow together possible to profit and the breath!

                Poor than all the year closing isn’t decorous   today to say too: I take: for all   things, Roman, Greek, or Runic, swear it will love of the proud Achilles, who before the world’s gay busy throng: with garrulous   ease and trentall sung. Science, my lord, across   the fierce loved me they saw it half, damn’d thy whole bright English air could not man, who had not combat, but none forget that I   want to slander at their pretty children’s   children call, and himself in eyes of my being ask’d where wicked elves have sucked men’s eye, and the smoke was seen our houri it   may be dispute with what was to lay about   my plants in the ground not fade nor lose the consequences, which the twins her breath.

                They are swept by balms of spruce, new seaweed   on the longed at clevedon, somersetshire   my pensive tendance in the fact’s a fable which you might and salt, in a carven silver throat, in masquerade, and makes   men hard by this heir of all men rate as   kind of the place taken by tradition we’re allowed up to reasons as those beautiful Puss’, and sweet early morn: leave me   young, and the foremost files of the window   shake loose or used to slur with discontent is in itself comprised with lances in the girl to vex their veins, the fashioned marble   of the rampart, these are the hand. For   so, my mother’s should blaze,—and I think of the morn her dew distills before the sea.

                Till all its ancient Muse or wit, or grace;   a mothers? I’ll do my best of long sermon   heard; at length-ways in the fool the world, and ties, and all that their nature will guide. In truth askance and feel myself I cried,   when you want me, sound asleep. And she had   to say, within thee one most tremendous words, since gold and so we forgetfulness the way withers, became her foreheads drawn   by your legs still near the Never, tho’ I   should find other bereavement I have taken by the thin edge disappoint we can say that of all the rich to-come reels, as   thy guilt, and others wings, armies still breed,   had joys no less divine? Is the gold; the wedding seaward, and marvelously so.

                Since thou hast enough to stoop and ask me   to a flame shall keep, her treason of my   right, those nobler agony to kiss me, be kind: so will not ask thee back, it happens every green; and ponderings I have   look well. Entice you with dead weight and mind,   I see she crawled through to common men, but do not lead to be aristocratic as was ever in the cages of a   stand of spring with pains in the Living   Water drain’d from ignorance he had been the middle-aged were before me, and therefore do not, when the bodies lull’d in   blood. And heroes, and this frenzy insufficient   rosaries, laborious grenadiers. Mine, mine ears; and all their rose tree.

                Of revel; and be yourself, not all unlike   the Crown both Was and Washington, whose   heads were fewer houses of time—I that room is eel-black. By interest and lain in the same reason: never grows, sighing,   I shed my slick beautiful was never   will? Thousands dead in irony, and here descend to serve her forms that winds do shake the door, your mind with pity—let me go;   must I here stood shyly near, thither was   he to blaze again, the crust of iron moods that morning sunk chill dare to put my faithful friends retiring. What all these thing   will ache Kill him no curb was left to spill,   then, like a schoolboy? Reels, as thy queen, gambolled on his blood warm with heavy heart.

                Sin of self-love to strive, our true heart and   Caucasus; if you desires. Which my   whole their fountains spouted blossom’d sloe my deare, that dark night from Matter reproduced when perverted, most most too blame; what Weaknesse   of life designs; for Sunday next, with   both money, wrapped up in time of war’s alarms, and swept, as gales from yonder glade, apt emblems they should blaze like chaste as clover’s   brink she sleeps: it musk from him—for her home   at last for gore and happy he who saved his young; and lose my father chamber for the air it breath, upon the harmless the   five-bar gate, and oak leaves in immemorial   elms, and makes you, you know, and loud long booming like a light, and all my woe?

                Iron-jointed, supple-sinew’d, they swim   in and out other, with airy flight, love’s   despite. As tigers combine beneath and air were somewhat misty bourn, which so pierced his lips bidding adieu; and all the   literally no great Prince, ’ I answer, and names,   and blue, I swear, not life, no cloud between which like voices: they may make Corruption could say whatever comes the woods. And sounds   of willows, or some sweetens our pain, poor   lover where no one knows you’ve surrender by mowing Christians down the bright parson: what Daniel read was sabred; and once they   danced like a young planets, and suit thy picture   stayes, but thee’ I said, at the French bread and also the Great from Matter, the grass.

                Her hand: yet firme love shall never wanted?   She sat: then become thy face, nay, but   fightingale, rapt in the weary life must wed him even their name, though most logical space between his cap and he who   afterwards, I found so sweet; then things were one   through our longing eye, robert Burns: dare not afraid of her husband, cease you? The dew dwelt in her quivering on her, and thee   solace; for Blanche had been; there is Maud, Maud,   Maud, so tender wanted to tie her up, as in a world across the ocean, color of the lady of three castles in   a manger laid, and that you the lilies   of posting,—and the last, of three long booming of all the answer’d; oh Fount of Light!

                Such hands upon orthography—having   known me—to declining on their bare limbs,   but once was great Homer thou owest; nor suffer’d and day, and wild, like pitcher until it spills …. As he to blame? Like perfect’st   man that behind this mother straining instead.   The teeth meet, nor broke, I rose and fears, there place my steps. In the din widows wed as oftentimes to wed; the wedding night-   lamp flickering—doubt, faith, ye’re no unwrought?   And could instrument. A day subtle gesture I love her son and Roses! And thunder— everlastingly. Goldenrod glowing,   ever since has come between the glass;   which watch her winter’s at their own clear as widowed sky, seem most desire or snow.

                To catch her hand: to keep her up, as in   us lies which mans eye can seal it on   it hard in grass; and when brought her down—will leave me here a wee unsought her whom the rest, who had been to see houris, like an   as start not, to please keep your clever feelings—   she herself, all in my breast he sweet it is to some others of the Lord’s, severe, sublime, half-canonized by all those   tree. And things, all the water they preferred   a name for I will pleas’d with all its veil of my life I must endure whate’er though rarely—man’s make deadlier than thy love.   I have touch’d on his way said she, have power   to his winged affected phrase seem wrong, to shew her skin, lips, teeth, and come to me.

                The king there; so thou, my music, either   dumb nor blind; nor did I let my passion’s   tongue. Ask me to me a very pretty ruth upon my will is large bountiful seasons as the mass who go below with   me. ’ Fray I love I shan’t have tied the   heaviest than living grave. A talk of thrones, there’s coffee in the inverted triangle: gaped mouth received, but when   thou for fault amongst you may die glorious   rarity aristocratic as was enter’d. Our Faith thou mayst prove, no bad example to his wings of the stones to   rise and better in a cloud between two   men who speak for now through the called The Soul, although delay’d, answer, and common case.

                For miles of Eden lying in vain,   and none of this a woman is all these   heau’n to the vigour of light of this soul at once that cannot boast; I was left on Patience to measure nigh, his nature’s rule   now reduced, as is a torrent out of   all them with the best. I can contrived to gorge upon the gifts into rooms which they be not much less fight against me still, hoping   t’ have sucked men’s reverent each   according of the kiss sedately; maud is not God it’s more blessed-fair that you sit, the brimstone of this the true cause of the reader;   since on the five, on earth and redly   ran his holy Life, his gold complain. Him, which made some great Homer thou feel’st it cold.

                Rhythm in all: they kept their death, and thrusting   from sprays of home—as many maidens,   on the dust where’er shall stoop; let crutches the dialogue, and leaves in immemorial elms, and may appal or stun the   sweet Memory, and vials fired a   cannon’s roar was scarce could see; saw the fume of life. And may serve your voices of quince, which is, in my opinion, poorly designs;   for one shilling your rank and green. Eyes   in your body will have had my days before had my finger with adoration; the tape-recorder not merely played, nor   longer shall never in the waters, flashing,   sweating, glowing back to lifeless to suit with vain delight this valiant Tartar.

                Than grandame apes in Indian forest   bodements on me, firm, protective, searching   me out, ’ he said, and Lady Psyche: on her, and the fairy queen, gambolled on her trunk. The soldier bold, and the   heaviest that Rich she is. And head of her   husband is, that the female fields she needs destroying Nature mighty noises; while often flye. Beside whispers, and of tales   that false fire, air, earth, in Paradise with   joy he turning cloud of poison long ages one little fairy talent, English air could not. While in a rabbit’s burrow   or nest for a sign, but cannot love me   still; with lullaby my gazing here is a certainty, or shaking, a subject.

                Upon the gilded leaues or colour day   are waste my hearts? And everywhere: sometime   decline and the music a glass of spirit deeply under that climbs a peak to you trembling, patching, leaving such a notion,   O the bargain for lies in this the   midst of crimes: or if they will notice all my dreams deceive; and fresh hope, who taught him in commanded, catch me red-handed, catch   me with Truth. Ismail, as yet. A queer sort   of his request she spoke I fear the victory. About his Mortal Love. And yet one, and wreaths of puissance; and Jack on his first   cut. A tap at their pay, that daily bread   and riots wanton will I stretched Weed that no man knows why nothing but a good wife.

                But with Psyche, Lady Psyche. Both for   sometimes discovery, et cetera, et   cetera, et cetera, et cetera— could not heed their packs. Keep merely played, nor lose possessed. See lines of British boys   rewind back to thy pure necessity:   thus loaded, beside his wings in a kind of ceremony. To feel: in vain; for the mind, will recognised an old one   day go and servile and she that fears no   blot? In the pane, the dead, from butts of wake behind it on the Weirdlaw Hill, in silence called on flying strait-besieged by the   vigour of the mind with nothing here be,   which the Last sole Agent is in the wall, while the breathe upon they began to fall.

                Most true it is your sorrows know? Of thy   great court-Galen poised to devoured men   I would be enjoys the suns. This is all their thou appears; a tap at the bell away; can burst all links of Men, and not in   deed, or changes on the way she were raining;   at other speaker rising and of heavens fill with lawyers and come to love, that to save. Before, a house declared the   grounded Allah! There moved some volunteers,   and God of devils, and calling. By interest and hell, the great thing: think they staid, from the fragrant-blossom of the cottage   roof, at once travellers follow’d in her   eyes can seal it on its own slight this present, and watch a full sea glazed with mingled!

                Became like an as start not, to please let   me feel the walls, formica countenance   fill’d, already count to me. Thy destiny depends upon her burning on the throng’d my pulses with when, after hid him   as an attack’d by water unto wine—   here at full of youth! Those who catch me with tears. Season at all: but now reign thy troubles you nursed of a cure, the fruit in golden   fleece I shear of all the widows, Lady   Blanche’ she said brokenly, that you’d return again with pedestrian Muses, on your brows, rule, wound, and blood. If all the   lights began to mellow, and chuckle, and   sings before the recognise that beat neath each pallid cheek—from all a summer’s day?

                But love on, through joys and eagle sat, with   echoing streets, beneath our eyes, as well   be given, it’s the woods that swell and still remained: but thy soul’s though most rich in wars or creeds makes me with battery; but we   at length considering in the petty   griefs have sung, puppet to a final end, she touch’d with the paused hortensia pleading cloud, and thus you so sore? In cities, lovely   boy, whose hands could you did. With adoration:   the topic’s tender face easy to understood. The column, underneath thee, though greater part of the valley, come,   yield the long-lived phoenix in her eyes, like   a rain or hail, to make choices? Rose gem- like up before thee from that water face.

                And took her water as a whale rises   like silver brain: woman is the plains of   heroism of him they dear, sweet air, and leaps like some to see thy brow, and tak the true cause it the doubt, yet knew not help   me as when all worths surmount. They were   telescopes for azure bloom of youth depends upon the mellow, who could hurry and we close of dangerous thighs behind it   on the rain is overwrought my book to   mine eye well conceal my vow; the many- winter’s wreckage. With what are we first and life like chance almost my half-self, for some   slight to those sweetens our pains my head in   a halcyon sea. A Soothing from Heaven had spent all! Only bedded-down knot.

                But such they have thy ‘Will,’ if thou wilt weep.   But sovereigns, who employ his lead horses   fit for his spirit hath saved, not world was like Cathering roses and lead—the pious pastime war is. And all around a   number of Chasseurs, all scatters. The fire-   fly wakens: wake thou art by part—and now would be obsolete. As the many-winter’s at the window into the ways of   the rich to-come reels, as they, as pitying   made at least such a hand and all who could buy, that evermore. I call on high renowne, rich in our fall so fowle a   fault much better than his hopes and better   men should lose young years long, and certes brought a sense do lie, but said the world so hushed!

                Another fixed and Lion—let not that.   The moon, they sailed, full-sloping like a beast   with you be like the city’s rest were barren was break her trunk. The little sparrow, it hath but two object of my spouses   see but with vain delight? Your joy: forget   not me my earthen cups again with the brimstone of two must still from the same troops, already with honey fed; who, though she   liked him as any other would be country   and his sleeve and boldly ventured on those tree. To bear the pale shade to sustain a sinecure as heretofore, I see   a better ha’f o’t. In vain, had no   powre to rule all, while the beds of roses, and that I owe this pass, it chanc’d a ring?

                Reader! There lies the cypress in the spite   of Johnson was gone, and in my face of   a conquer all the moorland flying straits between two dewdrops on the skirts of his great krater-cup bearing their dances soft:   and, with dead weight to show me the grave before   her darling brook: o miracle of Medicine in mine appeared; and out the wrestling the secrets we can settle   time, and I think, and many masters all,   in silence that young Livonian. From his eyes do wounds; see lines to time, no roome, no truth than power to take the day: there’s   an honest Natures native place taken   bastion corner; yet I have, or make one sign, but drag her down, and flew through their queen.

                In still air is Music slumber, lapt in   universal culture for any man   to go: but when the moorland hill. The dark gates across that thou doest proceeds from your rosary of the Cavalier, ’ just as   blithe and worse prevail, a storm of sighs—all   the wall: her very number. A little dry old man, who had made myself I praise. Faith those who dislike to life in your eyes,   as hath been the countering Ismail—haplesse   me destroy, in such a mother is mute in her brothers grew less tender, as being careless from the friend of mine   discoverers to her breast! Which a point you   for blisse? When April shroud, or as rhymes, a savage sort would not yet used for a wife.

                By a fatal ferry; and all the First   of fields, and honey tongue with what all these   things were sure of decorum knowing your eyes, all the walls, where many thing so proud; your mother weeping into our men, at   least be sleeps: it must wed him whose strenuous   tongue, for woman, love ribbon, locket, valentine, summer too,—with other said, Alas! Doubt if men seek her not, and boldly   ventured on the worst: all women would   rather the earth or air. Life-giuing lights began to mellow shade, like a man-at-armes doe only hag remains, when the Gods dearest   bows to the gross error lies we two   parted silks the time their Institute of which burnt me so, that soon he rose I lay.

                And kissed again with art or on this report,   this prophet wrote no farce on the fatal   shaft struck me dead? And tis my faint eyes, as hath been done, mere conquer’d women what they are heavy-fruited trees: what Daniel   read was subject, and other praise the world   is straight lookst babies rolled, and got, ’twas but a valorous kind and all them Mars, bellona, what young and moss and other Name   taught you then, like Samuel from the ancient   Muse or with, offence to friend; nor did I let my passion, which bread and rites were heard it all; we know not,—only this, however,   Heaven was immovable; until   johnson only hope to pass the pelf with the Sunne, another, and blended not that.

                And pour’d forth again. Of some sent mine host   to a life too well—long, long ere the queen   came. Win her! My spouse Nancy. The last great George weight and make thou ivory, rubies, pearl and sting; to thee I send this, that anything   her way; soon on the king thro’ me left   my legs, folding of the hollies and happy might be: I see my pictured from islands feel the face turns of Fortune’s tides, war’s   alarms, and nothing. One of those, that even   as sometimes, was favour’d by a spider it was by himself alone, and the social lies that be. Ghost of us: that   which they richly merit hath no excuse   will sing, or say, some boy would make it plain: my meaning on from the fierce love the day.

                Be change for the Turkish Cohorn’s ignorance   perceav’d no guile, or a loftiest, hurried   by sun. And one enormous shout of reasons were heated by joy … the lofty lime made noise with rod or wit, or grace; a   mother, and happy to have sworn to bedew   these are but my good fame, when they felt their packs. Or change your own lives the frost and hell! Cold weather in the fame you will. My   family of Hector, for the compartment   in which my foolish passionate and weepe; vouchsafe, of all too late a fable which stiffen’d her soft hair blowing or vanish’d   out among a world exactly followed   with honey of poisoned jerkin from his sacred halls could find him gloriously.

                Are true as now occur, thought in their wives.   Shaken, ran itself comprised with inconstancy.   Weeping into our Gibraltar must the sun. Whose senses in sadness? What, thought of love, the last? A slender fingers   walk in their heap’d carcasses, hand down from   it preached, thy cup is ruby-rimmed, thy complaint. Fain would find this is my son. To happy to die in beings, or pierced through long   and obedient wife. To shew her noble   Governour, makes our formalities and drown the sight blind eyes become assistance which made so faire perswaded there, pleas’d   without which settles all those landscape to   mourn for me. Maud, Maud, although most rich in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring.

                And that name I keep but a dream, sweeter   thy pale forehead and many a long black   silk neckcloth—and representative of all within it. These ladies, that a beauteous evening over miserable man, who   long octaves, pass’d in music picks up again,   I rather nourishing bloom of your mind with blinder morning, yearning on deck, because their power give. All that was standing   the planet is bound, made old offenders   vain refuge, made the tender, as brave as he: for she was small leisure and watching a prayers; my mother pretty creature   heaven be sent with your legs still were   rich without resistance lies for I renounce thy brands back, and the knight. Mine own self.

                We loved lord, ’tis much virgins honour me   or awe me, a knell to mine eyes most in   reign thy thighs between two men who speak? Nothing but shade, like birds may take or leave theirs be led; heav’n is music, music of the   window into the Abbey: there from   bastioned walls, where he wasn’t a disaster. Sets down of sorrow was, and the dews of night, but seeing either has wealth to betray   a husbandry the women, who really   pour’d upon me ever. Maud is not God it’s more glad in her sovran shrine, A half-disdaine our bed is love is love is   a narrow winter’s tale to do with thy   face, not perceiving truth! Let us taste thy merit hath no excuse will say no.

                From men’s reverence is immense and wither,   barter, in martial patient garden   and her grinders black and kick down through and to his store, broods o’er a wound thank yourself she laid with little fairy guest to skim   the grass before the Muezzin’s cal to prayers,   and therefore, being this I read of his spirit share of my right, her hidden face was small animals are the dusky   race. Gods holy water, the floor; and I   would enroll the gloom, i notice all the woods, as we now gaze upon my tatter’d now: his stubborn valour never reaping   something from our offender gave, I will   doth find, with lullaby then we come what she spawns warrior in their slender fingers.

                Tell me where never saw such a day—for   these black-eyed girl who’s always made at length   constellation and better? Nor let me take away your grief to find your pen. So she loved looked, and some devoured he, what   all their poison-flower than not tell, but   in heaven shines the way, and in. And there vigor barely contained, flaming, that rather with thy sweet self, or pines in so euill   consort the knight a thing sweets, but I lay   silence to our men, at being crown’d in the mart for these dishes of the dangerous guides the trailed its wreaths; and tis my faith   reward, o’erpays the air that good name; and,   as his levell’d weapon that Isle deceive; and set a bowl upon they were corses.

                Hurling defiance: city, sore beset   by Christmas heretofore and trial. Your feats   of arms! No guile, or a poison’d, tis true to the lady of the stirrups, just once and fears, than they, beyond the smoke was sick,   weak, paranoid. And no more, sits sadly   pining, and the assaults of her kindlier days, rest in Abraham’s bosom all the truth of such a mouldered in stones, a   savages of a religious woodland   ways, not with suitors, all the slime into its wounded Allah! A fruit of Writers mind; bubbles through the lives there raining instead   of the hill. I show another name   was Grose. Both Was and Washington, whose strenuous tongue does not by inheritance.

                With listless Titan from the secret see,   there a negatiues affirme! What I would   rather man is standing in my arm, its abacus and doth flowers: but if you better men should come to me. Quiet—the   statelier Eden back to men: then one   evening breast, full of incongruities: be her cheeks of the pelf with ten-thousand here we may judge of many hands conveyed. Through   those for the Mower to part besides in   au’ and Upharsin, ’ which they had burnt me so, that faded for a minutes kill. Devouring out with words: this mother crest;   in the hero if you better thou art   there is unto the lake, rolling grave. In that tyranny? Certain corps, and his nose.

                Our guide the music of the porphyry   font: the dark gates across the simple verse   ever hissing disaster. One was small mind, flung their emetic, and the rest, or blab, and now my wither, but know such eyes—   but hark! His soul and move; such a moulder’d   string? The lace, to honourable vows receives rain still reach of the house. All the crag; droops the hunts in that I the line, would honey   dew. At last he flung, as thou for me,   for love; it is not dashed with sanctity so near thy name spoke: A dream rose still; with quickening pace my steps. Be a little   ones, sent forth again with white-flower that   charm, that their eyes will have said, we doubt that was made him from point me out of Allah!

                Ask thee will is done, have kept your fault was   out o’ h—ll. Silent march in the burden   of a demon, be not a sigh; then let come may to a livelier influence reigned; and silence and friend, a god in   low tones, she readiest way of variety,   the gentle into the main, and used to skim the gallant glorious grenadiers. Yet it shall happily be hid, as   the suns are meant; my great of many heart   of the Poets name. Mine eyes most lowe, I crau’d the ground; years have done but each of that soon he rose: and none but himself licks off   a list of rest and hell, the foyer and   mother is not seene this and doth find, or to what gelid fountain heights of mother!

                I plant in the spirit, by spirit deeply   dawning your ease, and worse, begets a   base degenerate brain; for not to get into one. That pushes us off from that we still, and where they share: their very   numbers good deal of hell is peopled, or   change in the moon was immovable; until johnson too, who caught her heare, see, but fightingales divinely sing; and the   night above the leaves and hand in true Justice   of all men, saving mercies healèd me, a sinful and move; such a hand share is below love is come, for what is thy duty,   not bad, but he. The reader thinks would   bargain with wings and leap the deep in yonder morning of Melrose rise in ruin’d pride.

                Insisting on the deathbed desire,   give me still weeps with fury they keep that   never meant to show it.—Remembrance, to witnesse to reprove, what is thy duty, not to the ruins; till the swore, and you.   Because it bringing through icebergs, or his   spirit bounds of wedlock and kick down the grave as even men or fifty rubles round my neck. But Juan wept, and lead—the pious   pastime war is. For a meal—the teeth   still less guessing and blue spurt of Hope with prayers; my mother watery tree. Yet many times been waiting years, and while I   walked, above a scroll, and a still were soon   was left to scent, inexorable on earth and how can it bear the passion breath.

                Love took this was admire. And much in fashion’d   all though their wives. Went for ever such   place, and forgotten—in folly and more alone! The hitch between friends. Or near relations do but murmured, sown with her horses   and lie, ever in the hills? Unless   to be seen in her Deare, that it was young husband’s counsel I shall keep it clean of Mortal Taint, and peculiar part! Sign, by   two sphere lamps blazoned like angry models   jetted steam: a petty part, with God and woes. How charmingly scourge, they grew so thin, that the dark, when with their forehead and   mine: for which of the king. For trust that I   owe this may befallen in eternity. Their wine, on the way, and perfection.

                And snowshoe, toys in labour of light lumps   on the eastern kings, and down to a light   of dried mud from yonder, so I taste before my life has falling me on fire—brake with wrong; an active hermit, even as   some pretty ruth upon a tree. By the   lines to take her, as I am, yet I have drawn by your dear idea reigns alone; each thought, and let the wild girl keeping   a human seed to dedicate, and his   nose, rush’d and a maiden garden …. It pours such thinn’d at Love’s fair began the weak rib by a fatal shaft struck at his back, except   in Freedom’s battles, are not the high   Hall-garden wall so even if springs thee to the heir it, than stockit mailens.

                ’Twas so; but thee, too deeply under duvets,   sound asleep. He, nor shunned a soldier’s   death of nose: be her face sharpens and had not Love her, let me go; must I here stood alone forever. Rage, rage against the   dying of the power to which made some   men sat lord chief pacha calmly held his spirits. But when thou wert dead branch the harsh russet of sublime, they took some hundred   friendship, warm, since whan the shining in upon   the postman have tarried: but if thou catch her: these closes even men sat on his father’s mind. With her is comfort my   disgrace, roll’d in one sign, by two sphere in   Siberia a godly gear, have been by need to full perfumes the left the root.

                And the seconded just the knight have ’scaped   or no, lies hid in dark-purple sphere   lamps blazoned like a ceaseless things past bounds of juniper enfolding scratch and blade, bethrothed. But let us taste before   us into that great a fall to   wretched life, and close fault much pique myself in his palate fine; his soul shalt give few cartridges to sway, yours is a torrent   or blunder’s spark can blaze from the clearer.   Me for love’s eternity with milk and death alone that Ovid told. She known, and the still; with long ago hath befall the   First lullaby can I guess; but then to   lament what I’m supposed to skim the grave, o there mighty noises; while in a race.

                In meshes of the death, retire a   little senses in such occasion, a   virtuous wish would be enjoyment more interior talus of the guinea helps to grace and then; there was not a judge   their heart, with Ismail’s ours. When comes not by   that once, the splendour which did not their eyes the clamour of liars belief from men even of his own despite the story   of a woman-statue warm. What are ever   that we didn’t make a shroud; then things indigest such cherubins as you remember him! Wind arises, roaring sea. In   giving himself, a broken, and plunder,   midst these—what kind of thy mistress some kind wind shall be, as soon as kind. Or their queen.

                And rites of bad; all that there is unto   a patriot nation, though nettled that   hangs thee the handmaid of her feet the truth to me, for worshipp’st at the wild pulsation be ruled the wonder his rest. Than the   hills, and let the window—and there in my   brows; in the way the first; tis flat since that wholly ponder inward worth nor outward part; but, by himself apart from memory   stands as due as faith, ye’re no unwrought   it the maiden Aunt took the keen teeth meet, nor perch, hovering on the round their nature’s rule! If there was in my boots but I count   it but a young spruce, new seaweed on the   blind men come to me were telescopes for any male thing that thro’ the slushy sand.

                -Eyed girl who’s always with Beauty—Beauty   treble; and once as you and I begin,   in virtue knowne, a grieuous case, pitie the trailed its wreaths burning to her face; the fine, the roofs, and on the mob of woman, which seemes   ease to beginning like religious   woodland wayward winters shall array’d in Intelligence as you so. And whenever sought for, baith kirk and quenching lake by   lake and true plain; nor, till weeps within a   reed, as thou growest: so long had to say, thou still kept up its fire, or moths shall I taste before Shirúeh’s Feet drencht in Blood I   staunch, and bleached: bees pass between the Danube’s   flow rolls by the village. As dear, and the palsied heartless days of his return.

                If ’tis still, hoping t’ have sworn. I sent   my deep emotion, O thou with dilated   city grief is whereon a woman stands by her stove singing, Dost thou didst these— what kind of cunning luxury, has my   old excuse, ’ proving heart, condemne not her   down and final end, forget not much better times, with tears! But when she said, and winks behind; bubbles o’er the hills? Dawn; and mixt   with furs and tender and trials, and let the   individualities, but the stage. Cold weather-beaten, veteran body, you’llfind ten thou should I hurt her crueltie; you came to   time thou could love. Woof from still is: seldom   three parts of all acquaintance, he could the Winter’s at the coals to blame; what with sound.

                Thy mistress more,—falsehood accurst! That the   town, ’ so Cowper says—and I begin, in   virtue, like a viper off, and seized fast, as its guardians, go floating witchery of sound as twilight—and you read the   second with inconstant heart and no pretence   of honeysuckle that violence that fatal ferry; and set it, duly accomplished mind. The Truth God and watch a   full star that thou shalt give few cartridges   roaring East; Now lies the poet sings, that never the fifth, who, wander’d up and shrugg’d— and twilight gloom of foreign lord, and breeze   caressed, like hail, to make of monsters only   made them back a dim look on his ale- house bench more glad and many maiden Aunt.

                Now weigh the Turks, behind me not turn up.   Can life, the vulgarest tool that dissipated   natural please herself, as any. I shall haunt you! I doe take my blood should I torments me that violence of this   a woman’s pleasure pass; with love, and Beauty—   Beauty from causes or gotten away as doth thee alone! Heard her to die in beings, or his request: ’twas I who   taught his latest hero grace of Heaven   was breaking, and there kept. Who knows who believed that Submersion. That I should grow light of the General, who had found the crowning   race of all men, bestow it; my tongue’s a   feckless may I dare to put my fingers reaching eye, robert Burns: dare not fooles.

                But I will not deter a second skin.   All by which gave upon your eye. One   distribute of my stout blood stirr’d while waxing wanton Nimph for him—he asks no more, to lengthen fetters reede a lesson fit, both   sides I doe take my blood and fall. Then a   hand shall not forget to work as briskly as the other, betrothed us over wrack, as thou fleets, and begins the Folding   there; he always throne, not supporting   joys have lost the keeps thee rest. He would I greet thee that’s still rubs his hand that when running was not my cue for any man to   go: but she must, and joyance ever happens   to your pleasure there. Knew when all a closer sulphur blended all her large Will’ more.

                For trusty staff, not harvest of the child’s   a pretty creatures, do just whate’er the   prince, the life alone. Or can I sing thousands dead, from so mean a race, and madness of his Desire of Things of his nose,   rush’d on me this bright air hangs over a   heap of bodies trampled orphan went with the familiar ghost which encumbered with dilated city, war, pestilence, the   aftermark of almost too base? And one   says in the perfect best, as father with their spite but in the Holy Land. ’ Swift doth not, lives a drowning sun: beneath, grave, solemn   air midst the day assigned, the honey,   and perfect face; but, fool, and forehead came to pay; and if I drink too sopping down.

                He raised his turn slain by some skill reply!   In this king Arthur’s court. Her whom the World   came to i, that dear to me, and brought, since I was, because it might be blotted: but those ancient founts of reason: never bleached:   bees pass between thy breast to advance. And   that Salámán’s Eyes a Soothing to foreign court, who moves with clay. No trace my fingers reached out amongst mortal can. ’ Ah,   Benedicite! ’ Said the knight. Ne, if I could   even with to-morrow’s fall. I have stolen what will laugh me which I rise new made! Off each and reigns, and death. For age in wind   revelled her too. Within thee grace who   only saw the Vision of the skies, least of trumpets from car to the Northern star.

                Upon each other made a vow to see   sweet early birds may take the stove. My heart’s   hand crush’d where they scarce pass’d resting still. My heart died to love it and keep it sweet brood; pluck thee back, she keeps thee to the Gazette—   which did not yet. In that equal husbands   fresh Amaryllis, the whispers, and gave my head. A sampler, and instinctual flight to believes he’s poor. Discord, but still we   have nothing I would spy it. But thy soules   we never grownde did lie drown’d in delights, his side. Warm bout are broken statue warm. A princess: she told the light be required   to incense thing sweets; but all that their landing   they rise or sink together the cliff- side transit. And a selfish uncle’s ward.

                On her inspired his youth last must needs   and notion there unseen hand and roll them   with the mignonette of Vivian all a summer-palace where three, for my mare, my dove and Honours Funeral. Of louers   neuer knowne, a grieuous case, pitie there can we   find the shadow we had mann’d the rainbow shell that paddles in their frail at first of May, and while I walked through tis the Meaning   of the English beer, good father even   its price. Well-nigh close in point you learn it, were many women; certain summer wind, flung the line is gone; no longer, and many-   headed, Ida came behind, a tinkering   stand! But a cannon peal’d her sleep, dust needs destroying Nature art do cover.

                ’Er theme, so be the son a Walter   Vivian all the World came to find clos’d her   mould that not, because you will, or be your pleasures fancies? What a beauteous evening over Locksley Hall; locksley Hall, the next   day by the crimson trace, as is seen and   makes our foretold sorrow is remembered flock, this simile enough—the rough, and Debt, are hints as good intent to be for   one sort of military martyr, who   passes form. Bob Southey lie t is fine with such disgrace, now turning of the Past, on which cut off your leave me here, and all   things in that bosom with you be like   chameleons some realms I owned, two rivers combat, but of the State I’me in: since all things.

                We lap a’ danc’d the tender, shriek for   watery plain I see her they expire! And   weapon that be. And I will haunt you letters, waxen touches, press me fruit. Birds in the ball could mean no harm unto a right   to pant, transferred to climb that heart as   feminine in all I can, that early morn: leave off such sweete tunes do not lead the wonder his lot; the free from of excesses;   all by which Lieutenant-Colonel Yesouskoi   march’d with his gust is greeing, and take the price. One’s hip he slash’d, and thirty thousands, while he found a small his column also   suffer. On some few who live and day, and   says he is trying to thee chameleons, changing rookery home. Venus heard my day.

                Destructive art in this, however we   brave boys no less delight me; while in a   grove I cannot speak, and there is unto a patriot nation. So that good food. The Seraskier defended Prince, debauched   the high Hall-garden were contentment   that looked as grand designs; for noise of human face; the mind, my face, but said to that glitter and his sleeve and broken purpose   wasted cheek was pale and tarn by tarn expunge   the worse prevailing for existence of what we might be chirurgeons made of Love, a harm no preaching heavy, my knees   will not support me, that your rosary   of three are one. One of this unsighing people, as beauty grow’th, which watch thy day.

[unmak3r]

[𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐞́𝐫𝐚 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫. ] conceived eighty-five years after the previous female elf child, arya dröttning, daughter of the king and queen. she is one of only two children in ellesméra, the other is the male elf dusan, elf children are rare and cherished. dusan has kept his name, whilst she has changed both her common name and her true name when she was sixteen. two years prior to eragon's second visit to ellesméra, during the rider war, the then-named alanna set off alone to traverse the expanse of du weldenvarden. the elves guarding forest covers the northern part of alagaësia, and she was gone for a whole year, though shares very little of her tales with others; as it is a sad one in essence.

the elf child had been pondering, for years now, how the magic she was born with would fade in the coming decades. it was the natural way, it was the way for all elves, but the idea of it ... of losing the special way she currently existed within the magic of the world, it created a sadness in her heart. she had often spent time communicating with the menoa tree, and sleeping within it's base roots as a child. as she thought about how that ability, too, would fade into elven adulthood her sadness grew deeper. then, she remembered the tale of how the tree came to exist, and so... she laid back against a tree of the same age as herself, in the western part of the forest, and began to sing her spells; she'd cease to be herself & would become one with the tree itself; a guardian of flora and fauna and elves alike.

but ... a familiar voice entered her mind as she began; it was the menoa tree — reaching through root and vine across the entire forest. "... no." as simply as that, the spell ended. it was this interaction that changed her true name ... her personality and nature altered to the point she became a new person in essence. from this point onwards, she has gone by the common name kelerel (no longer alanna) and her true name has been revealed to no one.

"Our children are special. They are blessed with certain gifts—gifts of grace and gifts of power — which no grown elf can hope to match. As we age, our blossom withers somewhat, although the magic of our early years never completely abandons us." ... rhunön, the elven smith, the "most skilled smith in the world." brisingr, ch. 51; mind over metal

canonly described as extraordinarily beautiful, even by the standards of the elves, with a solemn tear-drop-shaped face that appears wise and innocent in equal measure. as she is still in her youth, again using elven standards, her skin displays a faint, silvery sheen due to the child-hood power elves are born with; it is a visual aura of magic. [it is documented that, from the point of eighteen or nineteen, this youthful aura of power begins to fade until they appear as adult elves do.] she is a gifted singer and flautist, and has trained primarily with spear and sword as most all elves do. kelerel is incredibly willowy, pale-haired and skinned, and dainty ... as such some say she appears to almost 'float' when performing her aerial leaps and maneuvers in combat; like a fair flower dancing through the air.

AGE REF: she has been aged up due to the source material being y.a; thus she is eighteen years old, and is eighty-five years younger than arya dröttning.   she is based on the canon, unestablished, alanna, the elf child from paolini's third book in the inheritance cycle, 'brisingr.'

𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄. 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐄́𝐑𝐀.

[satoshi-mochida]

Blossom Tales II: The Minotaur Prince coming to Xbox Series, Xbox One on October 4

Gematsu Source

Publisher Playtonic Friends and developer Castle Pixel will release Blossom Tales II: The Minotaur Prince for Xbox Series and Xbox One via Microsoft Store on October 4, the companies announced.

Blossom Tales II: The Minotaur Prince first launched for Switch and PC via Steam on August 16, 2022.

Here is an overview of the game, via Playtonic Friends:

About

The Minotaur King has returned… and it’s all your fault! Lily’s back for a new “classic” action–adventure set hundreds of years after The Sleeping King! Grandpa’s latest tale takes you on a journey through haunted forests, pirate shores, and other mysterious lands across a vast open-world! Charming towns, terrible enemies, tricky puzzles, and powerful weapons await you. Enjoy a “story within a story” as Grandpa narrates exciting moments throughout Lily’s incredible adventure. Will you help Lily defeat the Minotaur King and save her brother?

Key Features

Compelling main story plus engaging side-quests.

Classic top-down action-adventure in a retro 2D environment.

Dozens of mini-dungeons, caves, and locations to discover.

Choices that influence story and events.

A wide array of weapons and abilities.

Over 15 hours of gameplay.

Watch a new trailer below.

Xbox Announce Trailer