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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

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By the King’s Hand🐍XIX

Masterlist

Warnings: noncon/rape, violence/death, trauma, allusions to torture, gaslighting, pregnancy, birth, sickness, cheating.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 18+ only.

Summary: Your isolation brings you close to disaster.

Note: I know it’s been a while. I forgot I even worked on this chapter so I figured I’d share with you before I start catching up on my slumber party.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, I would appreciate any feedback you have. Please reblog if you can and send an ask if you feel up to it. Love you all! Have a good day and take care of yourselves.

Vali babbled at the wooden figure of a knight gifted to him by Hal. The child was bright-eyed despite his infancy, he was pensive and observant, much like his father. The reminders of his sire irked you at times and worried you at others. You hoped he was unlike either of you; kinder than Loki and smarter than you.

Whatever he was, you wanted him safe more than anything. The fixation on him, the need to have him close, confounded you. Perhaps it was that his was the only companionship you had aside from Birger’s periodic visits. Those grew less and less, more often you sat in your overdressed prison and listened to the low drone of life on the other side of the wall.

Sinthia was a frequent hum on the outside. You learned her voice and it piqued a strange curiosity, one born of monotone and isolation. Her words were obscured by the barrier between you but you tried to imagine those which would match her tone. How odd she never sounded angry with her husband when he so easily riled all others.

She must have been kind and patient. Maybe timid and obedient. Much the opposite of you. You, the uncouth and unrefined peasant, the mother of a bastard, the dirty secret hidden in the closet.

That morning, the king and queen spoke rather loudly over the clink of dishes. They supped as your stomach growled wantingly. You would have to wait until the chamber was empty to break your fast. You had only the lukewarm wine to sate your hunger and it did little but set a burn in your gut.

The longer you were trapped in this chamber, the more forgotten you felt. Hal was busy with his duties as squire and you would not keep him from those. Birger only came upon necessity, and the king did not acknowledge you upon his visits. Only his child. You had nothing to say to him as it were, not since he reminded you of your worth.

You took out the bundle of paper hidden in the desk against the far wall. You were out of practice but remembered all the letters. Piecing them together was harder but distracted you from the listless solitary. You made little progress without Hal to guide you and Vali cried as soon as you found a semblance of comprehension.

Frustrated, you took the baby from his basket and out him to feed. You felt like cattle, there to be milked and kept waiting for the trough. The child was restless and fussed as you tried to latch him. The conversation without lulled as Vali began to bluster.

You cooed and shifted him in your arms, rocking him as you tried to calm him before he could erupt. You moved him to your nipple and smothered his displeasure with your tit. He drank, slipping several times as you tried to keep him suckling.

The sudden dearth of sound worried you. You no longer heard Loki’s silty deep timbre or Sinthia’s lilted responses. Perhaps the king had noticed the stirring and quickly distracted his queen. A cunning snake, ever he was.

Vali detached again and let out a horrid wail. You hushed him and turned, swaying him as you coaxed him.

“Please, my baby,” you begged. These fits grew more often, more frustrating. All alone, your patience dwindled and your temper piqued. You loved the child, you did, but you felt clueless at how to handle him, “please, be quiet. You cannot be loud.”

He didn’t obey. How could he when he did not understand. You cradled his head, caressing him with your fingertips, “please, for your mother, be calm, be quiet,” you whispered to him, “listen to me Vall, my precious, listen, I was like you once. I was–”

He screamed and your ears ached, a pulsing at the base of your skull.

“Not very long ago. Before I met your father. I was unknowing. I was afraid. The fear remains, it is stronger now you are here, but I did not realise there were worse things than an empty belly or a sleepless night.”

You talked to him, you didn’t know why. Perhaps because you could not fathom what else to do. You paced with him in your arms.

“Before you were born, I was most scared. And now you are here… and that fear must be conquered–” You sighed and shook your head in exasperation, “I will tell you the story of me and your father. Not a romance, no princess and her bard.”

Your eyes welled as he only hollered louder, “I knew a girl, her name is Gilla, and I believed her to be my friend. Your father was being crowned. A king, but I was only a potter’s assistant. My uncle. Perhaps one day you can meet him. If ever a day I can leave these wretched walls.”

You hugged him to you and continued, “we climbed the Founder’s Tree. Fools, fools. And then we joined the feast for the peasants but Gilla snuck into the royal’s celebration and we were caught. Well, she ran faster than I, so truly, it was only me who was snared.

“The guards took me to a room–” You choked at the memory. It felt so long ago. That terror of the night returned to you, emotion you did not realise you still harboured for the occasion, “and I sat in the cold and waited. Your father came, and to be true, I did not expect him. Never expected to see the king so close, nor this. To hold his babe in my arms.

“I begged. It is what he wanted. It is what peasants like me must do. But you are a king’s son so take this story and learn from it. I begged and he took no mercy. And neither did I. I would not, for while I was poor and lowly, I had my pride. And I hope that you never let the same vice lead you to folly. Not as I or your father have.”

You stopped, realising the child was quiet. For how long, you could not say, so lost in your reveries that you did not notice. You smiled down at him and brought him closer. He squirmed and moved his lips as if to suck. You put him back to breast and let him feed.

Past the noise of his hunger, you heard something else. Something unsettling. A scratching at the other side of the wall. Then a clap, another, a knock which revealed the hollowness of the room. You stared, heart in your throat, at the door. That which could not be seen from the outside but which now shifted slightly from the investigation without.

You backed up until you hit the wall. You looked around, uncertain what to do. The panel that concealed the door jolted then pounded. Gods. You spun and held Vali close. You went to the tall armoire and opened the door. You crouched inside and kept the baby at your chest, adjusting him as you settled in the dark.

The slit between the doors offered a scant view of the chamber. The mechanism clicked and you held your breath. You felt Vali, his noisy feeding would give you away. But what could you do, if you stopped him, he would surely cry.

The long creak sent a shiver through you and the footfalls scuffed to a stop, a gasp punctuating it. You angled slightly as you saw the skirts ripple around careful steps. Around the child’s basket and the bed, pausing to look at the wooden knight.

The shadow loomed closer. Vali gurgled and you winced, embracing him as you waited for the inevitable. You knew it was her, but where was Loki?

She neared the wardrobe and you closed your eyes, cowering as you held Vali to you. You shielded him as the doors opened and shakily raised your chin. You looked up at the woman.

One could never mistake her for anything but what she was; a queen. Her amber skin and golden eyes shone brilliant beneath a head of thick, curly black locks. She had the stature and the height of her standing and her confusion was quickly shrouded behind the discipline of her crown.

She said nothing as she stared, as silent and dumbfounded as you. She looked at the child and dropped her hand from the door, retreating a step as she set her jaw. You shook and Vali began to whine again.

“Come,” she spoke at last, “there is some food left from our breakfast, you should eat so the child does not go hungry.”

Your lip trembled. You didn’t move. You couldn’t.

“I am queen and presumably you are one of my subjects, so do not expect me to repeat myself,” she girded and backed away.

As she turned on her heel, you emerged from the armoire. You pet Vali’s head as he continued his discontent. You followed the queen through the door and entered the king’s chamber. She sat and poured herself wine.

You approached her and made a bow. She put the urn down and raised the cup before her mouth. You knew not what to say and didn’t dare to try.

“Sit and feed your child before he starts again,” she commanded, “and eat something. I do hate to see food go to waste.”

You felt the steel in her tone. Unbendable but dangerous. You did as she said and switched Vali to the other side. He latched again and you glanced over the table. You took a grape and bit into it sheepishly.

“Your majesty, Queen Sinthia, yes?”

“Yes,” she drank and set the cup flat, “how old is the child?”

You swallowed, “I am not certain, your majesty. I have no way of keeping time.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. Her hand lingered on her cup as her lips maintained a straight line.

“Then I suppose,” she smoothed her skirts over her lap, “we shall wait and get the answer from my husband.”

You lowered your head and watched Vali. You knew what bastards inherited. Only wariness and hostility. Especially from queens.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered.

“No,” she dismissed, “eat.”

🐍

The silence was torment. Worse than any elaborate monologue Loki exposed you to. The queen said nothing. Each time Vali babbled you felt worse and were quick to quiet him.

Sinthia, tall and graceful, paced. The only betrayal of her impatience. You rocked your son until he slept, thankful at least for that. He could rest as you languished in the stifling silence of her repressed rage. For what wife would not be livid?

From the hall you heard shuffling and the doors opened at the king's will. You went rigid as the queen faced him, shoulders set for battle. You slumped and stared down at Vali.

Loki let out an audible breath as his sole scuffed to a halt. The silence extended as he considered you. You squirmed in the chair as Sinthia abruptly stormed towards him. The smack of flesh on flesh brought your head up as you flinched.

"My king, my husband," the queen snarled, "I've found your mistress."

Loki’s jaw ticked as his green eyes watched the wall. You saw the flicker of fury, the insult, the shock, but not an inkling of shame. He stiffly turned his head and blinked, long and slow.

"You will not strike me again," he ordered, restrained. If it were you, he’d have you bent and begging. "And you will gather yourself before we proceed."

"I will act as I please. You are king but you cannot wield power over my emotions," she hissed, "tell me not to be offended by your slights. We are hardly wed and you have a bastard–"

"Pray you can deliver a son with rights," he snapped tritely, "and you needn't worry for the whelp."

"My father did not betroth me to a second son to be treated as a second wife–"

Sinthia exclaimed as the king’s knuckles cracked off her cheek and sent her staggering. There it was. Queen or not, he was the king. You did not bring up the misfortune of his birth or the very thought of his disgraced brother.

You stood and swayed. With your child in your arms, you were paralysed. If it was just you, you might have the courage to act. Or perhaps that was the reasoning of a coward.

"Sit, mouse," he pointed at you with a long finger, "need I repeat myself that you are not to be involved in my marriage."

"I did not–"

"It was the child that gave you away," Sinthia cradled her cheek, "the product of your ill deeds."

"My child," Loki reared on her, "regardless of his mother, he is of my blood. I chose honour, I chose to care for him–"

"And how do you know that whore did not get the child by another–"

"You don't know so much as you think you do of me, I'm certain that's clearer to you now," he growled, "and less of this woman."

"I can see she is a commoner," the queen retorted.

"I wouldn't deny that."

"You will send her away."

"I will do as I please–"

"No, I am your wife, your queen, I will not have her in this city, let alone behind that very wall," her voice rose as she gestured to the open door, "and you will not touch me ag–"

She gurgled as Loki grabbed her by the throat. Your heart leapt and you rushed forward, an arm under Vali as you reached for Loki. That woman did not deserve to suffer for your misdeed.

"I shall do whatever I deem necessary. You are my wife, you will obey, and you will not order me about like one of your servants," he barked.

"L– your majesty," you tugged on his sleeve, "please–"

"Back away, mouse. You've my child in your arms, that is your priority," he sneered.

"She is right, you should send me away–"

"You know nothing. Neither of you. Women. Do not presume to know what is best for me. My wife will mind her tongue and her temper," he swung her around and threw her against the wall, "and you will recall that you would be a dead whore without me."

"Your majesty, this cannot–"

"Another word and you will not see that child again. Not a soul as I would banish you back to the cell I dragged you out of. So go back into your chamber and be a good mother."

You glared at him, lip twitching in anger and fear.

"He is yours too, you wouldn't–"

"He needn't a mother to become a man," he grit out, "do not make me show you the way."

You gulped and peered down at your son. You had little doubt on Loki’s threats. He'd proven himself little different than the cruel king who had you lashed. You were nothing to him but a vessel that had born its fruit.

You lowered your head and retreated. Anything else would only make the circumstance worse. Not only for you, but the queen, and your child. Vali would have few enough friends in his lifetime.

"My queen, lift your skirts," he followed you as he tossed the order over his shoulder, "you desire a true husband, then act as wife."

He caught your arm and ushered you into the hidden room. You stumbled in, careful not to jostle Vali and faced the door as he slammed it. The child murmured and you quickly worked at settling him.

You hushed him as you heard Sinthia's angry tones. You stepped forward and angled your ear towards the panel. A shrill yipe followed and the scrape of wood, Loki’s snakish slither cutting through the air.

There was more crashing, more shifting, and the battle of voices, both horrified and enraged. You put your hand over Vali's ear and pressed his other to your chest. He could no doubt hear your heart. Let it soothe him as you sit and listen to the consequence of your existence.

🐍

The king did not see you again for days. Nor did you hear Sinthia visit him in his chamber. He sent Birger to you to deliver food and what comfort the physician could offer. You ate and said little. And him the same.

Not until that day.

"The queen is aware of you."

"Did the king say so?" You wondered as Vali slept in his basket.

"I guessed it and he affirmed it," he intoned, "I advised him that you should be moved."

"You did?" You chewed on a chunk of dry cheese.

"I think it wise. Queen's are notoriously vengeful and this one is no different than most."

"Do you truly believe so?" You peeked over at the dozing babe.

"I've heard tales of her years as princess and most are well aware of her parentage."

"I am not," you counter and pull apart the thick crust from the puffy middle of a slice of bread.

"Ah, and what does a potter need know of queens," he shrugged, "her mother, Queen Lucinda, she has had… many husbands. The first she despised. A betrothal by obligation. Her father chose the prince himself. It is said Lucinda refused his bed until he petitioned for annulment. Her father was aghast and was henceforth found poisoned and the marriage dissolved."

"And Lucinda was the culprit?"

"So many whisper," he smiled at Vali as he twitched in his sleep. "The second husband, Sinthia's father, was her true love, so she claims, but he did not live in marital bliss very long. Two years and he was found dead at the bottom of a flight of stone steps. Some allege another had already claimed the queen's affections.

"Her third husband, the previously rumoured cad, married her but could not claim kinghood for his lowly birth. He lasted nine months and was executed for pinching a kitchen maid's bottom. The maid met the blade in turn as well."

"Perhaps Sinthia might not be so bad…by comparison."

"It is the nature of royalty. Which is why I made my suggestion."

"Hm," you grumbled, "and Lucinda, did she have many more husbands?"

"I believe she's on seven now," he said, "but I may very well be a paranoid old man who has spent much too long among the spoiled and ruthless."

"And what did Loki say? When you suggested I go?"

"He did as all those who wear a title do. He did not listen," he rubbed his cheeks, "but I shall persist. Regardless of the mess he's made of his marriage, it is a cruel fate to be kept in such quarters. You and your son need sunlight."

"And would you come with us?"

"I don't know he would allow it, but who else could he trust?" He sighed, "and who else would you trust, dear?"

You smiled, a weak uncertain smile.

"It mightn’t be so bad," you said, "if the queen has a son of her own–"

"Yours will still be a threat," he interrupted and placed a hand on the edge of the basket, "to be a bastard is ever dangerous."

“I know, I know,” you pet Vali’s head, “even if he only reminds me of his father, I can’t help but treasure him.”

“He needs one person in this world on his side. A bastard often only has his mother. Not his father. His father will expect him to become a noble, by the grace of his kingly breadth. To face a court full of vipers that hiss of his true origin,” Birger sighed, “he will need a thick skin, but more significantly, he will need you. The only person in this world he could ever be vulnerable to.”

You were silent as you watched the child. You couldn’t see him as a grown man, not yet. He was so tiny, so helpless.

“When he is called to court, I won’t be invited with him,” you met Birger’s eyes.

“You are the only person I’ve ever seen defy the king effectively. When the time comes, you will figure it out,” he girded, “but for now, keep the child close and safe with you. Whispers travel fast and the snakes coil in their dens. The king has many enemies and he is foolish to make one of his own wife.”

You nod and touch your stomach, a flurry of uncertainty nestled within, “Birger, good sir, you’ve saved my life many times, and I ask of you one last thing... I will protect this child to the death, if he is left alone, without me...”

“I would proudly steal him away and see him raised as you would have him. Not as the king’s pet or the queen’s donkey,” he avowed, leaning over to touch your hand, “the king does push away his allies. Myself included.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #by the king's hand #au #medieval au #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor #king!loki

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noctilucentstorm · 2 years

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Fic: Puppeteers

Merry Digimon Secret Santa 2022, @marril96! Hope you don’t mind a slightly sinister Archnemon from 02 manipulating stuff behind the scenes. Happy Holidays!

Title: Puppeteers Words: 1000-1500 Rating: K/Gen Characters: Archnemon (main), Mummymon, Oikawa, Digimon Kaiser, Wormmon. Pairing: slight Archnemon/Mummymon Read on ff.net or below

Archnemon lay in a bath set on top of a cliff. Her main body was partially submerged, while her six legs clung around the sides. Her chest pressed against the edge of the tub, chin resting on her arms, as she surveyed the canopy of trees below. Dark Towers stuck out from the dense forest, creating a chaotic patchwork as far as the eye could see. She didn’t bother to fight the smile that spread across her face. Their plan was coming along quite nicely.

A pinch on her shoulder in just the wrong place wiped away her smile almost immediately. She glanced behind her, catching her companions eye.

“Are you trying to pull my skin off?” she sneered, relaxed mood gone in an instant.

“Of course not, my beloved.” Mummymon placed his hands along her back, rubbing so gently she could barely feel his touch. “Is that better?”

Archnemon, who had already rested her chin back onto her arms in the meantime, shrugged. “I might be able to tell you if I knew what you were doing.”

Mummymon pressed his hands more firmly on Archnemon’s back, and slowly she found herself relaxing again as he massaged her shoulders.

The Dark Towers were becoming numerous enough she doubted the Kaiser would notice if one went missing. After all, those Chosen brats were running around knocking down towers left and right. It seemed wise to plan out the next phase of their plan in case the Kaiser’s actions were not enough. Something to dispose of the Chosen Children and their partners permanently would be ideal, but that carried the risk of revealing themselves.

A phone rang to the side and Archnemon couldn’t help the flinch of annoyance she felt at the sound, or maybe her anger was aimed towards the person she knew would be on the other end. Unfortunately, rather than taking her queue of ignoring the incessant noise, Mummymon was foolish enough to stop his massage and pressed a button to receive the call.

“Hello sir, isn’t it a fine day,” he began, but was cut off by an angry buzzing on the other end. Archnemon sighed as Mummymon fumbled. “Of course, sir! Yes, she’s right here with me.”

Archnemon lifted herself out of the bathtub, and daintily shook off some of the excess water. By the time her feet touched the ground she had shifted into her human-looking form. With a dirty look at Mummymon, she snatched away the phone and turned away from her partner to face the Dark-Tower-strewn forest.

“Did you need something,” she asked, unable to keep the contempt out of her voice as she leaned against the bathtub’s rim.

“I expected you to report in yesterday, or should I assume your lack of communication is due to a similar dearth of progress?” Archnemon could almost picture Oikawa’s frown on the other end of the line.

“Sir, we have made more progress in the last couple of months than the previous years,” she replied, trying to be the voice of reason. “That the Digital World asked for help from the Chosen Children is proof it feels sufficiently threatened. The barrier between the worlds is weakening.”

“Then help Ichijouji speed it along.”

Archnemon kept her voice cool to counter Oikawa’s frustration. “We agreed it was best for the boy to think he was in control, didn’t we? No need to draw attention to our operation with the Chosen Children snooping about.”

“I don’t want them interfering in our plans any longer,” came the biting reply. “Their power is growing, and who knows how long it will be before the other digimon regain their Perfect forms? Give the Kaiser what he needs to destroy them once and for all, but keep it discreet. As you say, the Chosen’s attention needs to be completely on the Kaiser.”

Archnemon gripped the phone tightly, forcing a smile into her voice. “As you wish.”

She ended the call and chucked the phone at Mummymon’s head. Unfortunately, the idiot had good enough reflexes to catch it. A shame, she thought, it probably would’ve shattered against his thick skull.

“Everything all right, my dear?”

“He’s growing impatient.” She reached up and rubbed at a lock of her hair.

Ken Ichijouji had made the decision himself to retreat to the Digital World when the Chosen Children discovered his identity. It had sped up their plans considerably, but the Chosen Children’s minor victories were enough to slow their progress again. Plus, Oikawa was right to be wary of their continually growing power. The Kaiser needed a stronger ally to counter their numbers.

Archnemon smiled, letting her hair fall back in place. “I’m going to pay our Kaiser a little visit.”

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

It was simple enough to slip into the Kaiser’s base. In fact, finding its latest location was normally the greatest challenge, but Archnemon could predict the boy’s actions well enough. The mindless digimon controlled by the dark rings paid her little notice as she waltzed through the entrance in her human form, subtly moving the cameras to give her the narrowest of blind spots to walk through. No need to raise the Kaiser’s suspicions.

In the dark corridors, Archnemon shifted her form and scuttled up the walls as the cameras became more numerous. She found the Kaiser in his seat staring at a wall of screens, his pale face illuminated only by the blue light.

“Ken, it’s late. Maybe you should get some sleep?”

The boy continued to stare at the screens that displayed a monstrous-looking creature, as if he hadn’t heard anything from his partner digimon.

“Ken,” the pathetic worm asked again, poking at the Kaiser’s leg for his attention.

“What?” The sharp question echoed into the hallways.

The little digimon flinched back, but repeated himself. “It’s getting late.”

Ken Ichijouji seemed to startle as he noticed the time, but quickly recovered.

“Where are the Chosen Children? Have they given up and gone home?”

His partner seemed to shrink a little. “They appear to be spending the night.”

“Oh?” The Kaiser sat back in his chair, perhaps contemplating whether to send an army to ambush them.

However, Archnemon watched as his attention went back to the digimon on the screen and he stood from his chair, apparently dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand.

“I’m going to bed. Make sure to clean up.”

The Kaiser disappeared from the room, his cape billowing behind him. Archnemon slowly shifted in the shadows, careful to keep away from the glare emanating from the screens. Wormmon busied himself pulling out a duster and cleaning the surfaces in the room, but his eyes kept shifting back to the hideous creature on the screen. Archnemon could smell his fear even without the tell-tale quiver in his legs when he looked at it too long.

Archnemon bided her time until Wormmon finally moved to turn off the screen. Pulling out her flute, she played a haunting melody, stopping the tiny insect digimon in his tracks. Under her influence, the Child digimon put away his cleaning equipment and made his way down the corridor in the direction his master departed, ignoring the computer completely. By the time Archnemon’s melody finished he would be near the Kaiser’s sleeping quarters, unable to remember how he’d gotten there, but unphased enough to assume he had done his duty.

Archnemon put away her instrument and lowered herself to the ground, back in her human form as she stared at the creature on the screen. The Kaiser had copied data from other digimon to give it form, but it still lacked the spark that would bring the creature to life. A shudder made its way up Archnemon’s spine.

They were nothing alike. Oikawa had given a piece of himself to create her and Mummymon, trusting them to carry out his will. The Kaiser was attempting to play God, creating life without a thought to his responsibility afterwards. Much like Frankenstein, his hubris would likely become his downfall eventually.

However until that time arrived, Archnemon could take advantage. Remembering an ocean, a call to darkness, she tapped out a new course for the base. With one last look at the creature, Archnemon locked the computer screen and left the room as quietly as she had entered.

Mummymon was waiting for her with the jeep running outside the base when she gracefully jumped from the entrance into the passenger seat. He took off without a word, correctly deducing the need for silence until they were completely clear of the Kaiser’s base. Archnemon watched the base gradually disappear from the side-view mirror, a smirk playing on her lips.

#digimon #digimonsecretsanta2022 #Digimon Adventure 02 #archnemon #Arukenimon #mummymon #My fic

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mechanicalinertia · 2 years

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STMPD Anti-Recommends Bubblegum Crisis Fanfiction: J. Austin Wilde's Farewell To Night City

Well! New year, new fanfic reviews. Just like I said a few days ago, I have no intention to stop doing this. Anyway, for the new year, let's get all philosophical and talk about a BGC fanfiction that isn't a BGC fanfiction: Farewell to Night City.

Here, by the way, is the author's page. There's a shit-ton of weird Ranma fic in there, most of which I have no intention of reading, because it looks too self-serious to be good Ranma fic. Seriously, what's with some of these people? Writing Ranma requires one to loosen up in every sense of the word.

Anyway...

Well, I wouldn't say I lied that we're going to review Farewell. But we're going to do some other things, too.

So let's get that out of the way: The corner of Megatokyo Priss lives in is called Ninsei, or Night City, which miiiight be a Gibson reference but is more likely a reference to Cyberpunk 2020.

Let that decision marinate a little, dear reader. What is Wilde trying to do here? Well, this:

Priss is hooked on super combat drugs, strung out, broke, and without the Knight Sabers, living in a shipping crate, needing rent soon before the couple next to her gets her little living space. She won't go to any of the other Sabers, she left her old band, and she's about to go back... and that's it. The fic ends. No Boomer stuff, no other characters besides a drug dealer with a racist accent, just a grumpy, edgy Priss. It's well-written, but you can tell that the author's trying to put Priss in the worst situation possible and then presumably make her even more miserable once the plot kicks off. It's grit for grit's sake, in other words.

Why this? Well, remember when I said that this wasn't really a BGC fanfiction? Here's the author's note:

"Despite its billing as "The Animated Cyberpunk Classic," I never saw much cyberpunk in "Bubble Gum Crisis." For me it was soon-to-be-standard Cute Girls In Mecha fare, with some mediochre J-Pop music, and a few obvious references (visual and otherwise) to the movie "Blade Runner" for color. It was enjoyable, but not what I consider cyberpunk."

"I've often thought about doing a BGC fanfic, and I decided that if I did one, I was going to write it in a truly cyberpunk vein. Something Gibson or Sterling would write. A story that was dirty and mean, about a cast of losers scraping by in an ugly world of fantastic wealth and hope pitted against grinding poverty and despair."

"Priss is, quite obviously, the central character of this tale for that reason. I know there's a general dearth of 'fics that focus on Linna, and I hope to address that issue in some small way in this story, but this is primarily about Priss and how she deals with her life in a post Episode #8 MegaTokyo."

"I know I'm going to piss off some of the core BGC fanfiction readers out there with this story. Maybe not with anything from this Chapter, but as you can see, I've just begun. Some of you will note that my characterization of Priss is closer to what Adam (love him or hate him) Warren did in his own BGC effort for Dark Horse Comics than the canonical Priss of the anime."

Wilde had not, of course, just begun. But the implications are clear, aren't they? Bubblegum Crisis simply wasn't cyberpunk enough for this author's tastes, and cyberpunk, to Wilde, meant misery, sleaze, dark and gritty alleyways in the slums of some megacity or another.

Which... okay, fine, Crisis doesn't really have that. And maybe it's okay to change that (see: Meat Jacket). On the other hand, in Crisis's case, rarely does an attempt to make the setting more miserable go well (see: Grand Mal, which has its moments of brilliance marred by that same frustrating edginess).

So... would this have been a good fanfiction had it been more than a sliver of a prologue? I somehow doubt it. It would have likely been a chance to make the Saber's crusade eternally hopeless, make GENOM unstoppable... and goodness gracious, we all know what I think of that.

I'm not really a big fan of this fic, or the ethos of What Cyberpunk Should Be that it encapsulates. In fact, I kind of want to push back on the conviction that cyberpunk is inherently nihilistic nastiness in the vein of street-level Cyberpunk 2020. Yes, that's right, because in Gibson's novels the good guys do often eke out a win against corporate megapower, and the world does change in new, invisible ways, so this conviction that 'this is how the masters do it' is a lie: Farewell is more Pondsmith than it is Sterling, and it would be nice if Wilde was a little more upfront about that.

It's okay to let the Sabers win, folks. If anything, the genre hybridization of cyberpunk, superheroes, and sentai-esque anime almost calls out for small victories, a sense that even if the world is miserable now it will be a little less miserable tomorrow. That's what Wilde is rejecting so violently in that author's note. That's why Farewell is a BGC fic that isn't a BGC fic.

That's why I reviewed it.

#stmpd reviews bgc fanfic #bubblegum crisis #fanfiction #fanfic anti rec

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libidomechanica · 2 months

Text

Are what new to speak of your breathing, sailing tears

A ballad sequence

Tail quicksilver moons, this was she! And all her once, forc’t, by a spell, that’s still worse, no good, and runs not clear. Seen up-close

how thee how the serpent, but those that they’ve been knows now where there’s Brummel? Enlarge, encline they say his heart by night,

than the spoil it with me to pay euen Nature’s shady levels, mossy tread, for Johnny! And dart the land, he under

the treason fades, in the grand as always the soul, were embrace; I love the glint of far-off fireworks, with the other

tons, ’ which learn’d; and thank’d her, she quite, the face of her desire! Into shadow, Cynara! Children and the rosy

flood of my sin, grounded on sinful love too little the eyes then only where I spun, and that men build upon my

fashion. A chieftain king’s letter, snowed it down, call no more my second cause. If thou wilt, as their leaves so dear! And as

long small gear to give a bust of the fancy her steep her locks bright air, or that day’s rude hoarse wind began t’ increase,

did all command the morning of pee. And moonlight lane she goes, and Betty, go! Gray old woods may answer of art was

there was no dream’d of idleness be thy dove. Nor all the woman can restore which looks again her hair was powerless

apart. Right in lead, or adamant, to find the Divinity o’er they sometimes a career of painful warrior

famoused for greed o’ the door theirs—God blessing wind blow, now they please them to the highway too blame? Beyond the

den of the night and dawdling, I shed my good fortunes wreck did crow to-whoo, and there he By his dim water-world?

Bid her ’tween me and cloy’d, at their dreary, he comes to endure therefore did I wonder, the past, in masque of scorching

eyes, now, if though not in the tears of the pine for me than at this mortal things helpelesse of your sonnets, advanced

in nets, drest to knitt and smil’d, chatted with girlands dress degeneration oft performed of beings went ashore with

me to pray; who watcher watery trees. If he must the charme. But by an article. Now bring a doctor to

recover. Thou shalt find all the yellow forest leaves the rest beauty’s angel of that exists the pear to me; and

Pegasus hath so display her in cunning was dead woman stands that shrine he heart’s-ease turn’d, preferring it up poetically?

Nor virgin-choir the swollen purple throng. If she saw no more. We prison-bars, the river. Of this twilight’s

he jumped up the air it breathing my eyes, or who did but dirty. The matron Night Movie Theater, show of.

This too late I not seen in eternal grace conversational: if Pindar? Garish day on which did not know which

makes it brought that broken, but bland the shard, that I shall trees. And pure as the critic is from Araby; pluck the tears

will I left in me, and in his beard, and disgrace, singing alone; each has told the clinking of the taut holding a

basket and virgin best. Don Juan had done and touch, yet he sware; nay, Sorrow came up, as a child the boat, and a still-

felt plagues, of dearth of flatter; and flutter round the whole multitude that lived whilst they won’t or can’t do other thrivers,

stay! Between thy heart I felt, what thy placed are, for thinkings; such a framework scarce discernable wallowing how way

leads on to succeeding out goods, ballast, guns, and there to give a bust of the Knight the height, Powers of fair moon was

low, again my shoes of fair moon, and heart is not a sigh somewhere inheritrix of fame, may rue the bell awayt,

and there but weep, for I must agayne: o what a dusty drill: we banged the other names at such alone are young pinions

wide. The sparks, with upturn’d to roam! Both for damage than before the silence to please thee, Cynara! She is at

peace; no critic is from Araby; pluck down a vultures make an egg in a newspaper posted onto the skies,

spares the capital apace;— esteeming it to you, though harbengers of Love, you hardly sung the chaff with ioyance brew’d,

to this clothes and a casement of love! Of blue which I give to hate me yet. Confusion; there’s no carousing.

White, of mingled to endured, i’ll ne’er get over, she bathos’ vast abyss of death, for reflects upon one ever after the commeth him how to blame, without him, Wordsworth some virginity, which Nature made it half of what to

fold to hold or silver chain degradations Act: the Doctor! Fair creatures rent, who moves dark as yonder, whiff! It will not spilt. Nor Valiant, who slips within her; like crimson staine upon his little graves will fill for very joy. I had

all in shiny boots like rain, clinging of antipathy, as t were, being about the sea! Direct your question, much to make it worth the third floors, and pure affections part; opening the faint with a stony bed. Might do the sun.

The budding town, or she him this every where. Of the bar or senate in love so easily might have done, fates revolve no frown one side of the breath’d the shaft, and that hue whose grace and Southey, and she just new, and tymely sleep, with

sacred peace, our life! No court na anither, it may, and your eyes are the fond forget till the dreary grave! The lore of love are able to do with towers, on thy shadow from the trouble wi’ the sea-beasts, ranged as true: but within.

Will crush her pretty pastimes in brass. And by the judgments see that speak to her makes a piteous moan. Fray vs with soul in pain, he feasts, and some motion not my paper, show

of. In doze I seemed to walk into a fluttering at the patient sudden in their future brought torments? She said, as earnestly rout the boys: the little town she posts away;

and while other speechless something of men. The Sage his Satire endearing Venus sends of free though our brows! The way was your eccho ring. To let them appeared his sense

within the ground, a little thinks no more! Telling be, and haste to blame; what Weakness! Tiptoe with rainbow’s glory, I though in Cupid’s armory, her joys, or fold mine nor man

abroad, the clear and hid in a forestalled, generation, he laid down her wings to my lays, as Philomel in summer long year set, like these her bed her thine; sternly denied.

—Not yet a lamp-lightingale, rapt in content with the affections heire thy selfe doth blush when the low, though of what

you say. There I’ll bury alive, then, toward, the past, pay to him befel, for greedy pleasure, and faded: deepest grass,

beneath the young girl, her thou dost sit, and of that hid I’m, you know, what I love me—wilt thou my pretty pastimes it

brought car, easily onward to miss it, although t is certain portions on the faster for her nieces shines upon

Sion’s hill must ride, and far beyond all that can well be, than to moan, but now even change of those that that writes of

both the faith is knees; and how he died,—and therein. As springs which I think of the blanchingly, with misty vapuors,

white and set forth to reconnoitre, in which is inseparate self, in the striped white horses prancing o’er the Arabs,

Turks, and beautiful had no notion of relations; to tint her spiritual, through couert night, as the thrice-turned in it

light broke the north I took half an hour atones forgot his soul with crystal eye right upward: but learned troupe. It

will allow the glorious mode of raisin, orange, that no man e’er return’d to him, and take their spouses, you do

not merits praises of the away to mind his feast a remnant of lamps blazoned like unletter’d in the sea!

Half falling every visit, Haidee into relation I think we may, they were slick-faced. Or sat amidst of

majestically take a new them but one could in multitude arose, they, sunlike, should not cut him down from the tumblings

down wearied, said fair without heare here! Spears in virgin purest lipp’d, and the bell away; this bloody drops on the

firmament, for lo the window shines above! And soone in tight skirt the outward fair, and do what your ear. And guydest loue,

in honour and mine there is that always for it—’t was not a few, which things are brief, and calm and stare upon his

knees; her orange affection of his made the country show’d no path to life’s self, so does teach their fan, to commemoration;

the tabor, and the feasts, ranged, so that needes thou dost foist upon the horrid sin— and what was adorne: whom

ye thought thee winged heels are in a row of pearl and cowslip’d lawns, the rugged fount of that field where is thy grace of Doom.

Ready in hand, as they shot awrie! Stems throng, dancing like to man, to wheedle: so vile he laughing what, if thy loue of

lights shine; and all vices spent, and he must be done? Some sorcerer, whom fortune, never kiss and did tame. Mine eyes still

repayre. The Vates irritabilis’ takes to ponderous breakers plucked the truth mai’st see, dearest beauty is; that

spreading in their hinges! Its wires of Crete. And sometimes you walked with the moonlight: beside, and found him not amidst the

far bell of glee, that he cross’d the heavy meteor-stone;— felt too, I was interchanged: the mere comes within the

Acropolis, or seedling the human ties; her senses, others’ feeling forth, love’s antithesis; romance on would

sleep. Now Johnny! Shall I nurse prepar’d— thought car, easily because I woke beside. And let our wide plains where’er I

sing of her youth rise; some shade, on her bed. So much to run, and blear-eyed Will the trodden regions? Now al is done, fates

revolve no feet, the Virgin’s mysterious doors old footsteps stirr’d; and made retreat into the cost, all like a singled

love first Man took the prison doors! Be now posting on that breath into my loud clapping all were bereaue, all in horseback—

I have shown the isle. Ascending yet it doth sing and proud lady. Poor Tom was on his past care, with choise sport, and

let this the suffix was on his heart of a lie.—Home the words, and so forth, love’s feet. Silence of that with sounds proceeded

from Arab jokers, of charm of women in the dale, and bare, and she be, the counted thought of the fishes take.

Angry that’s so trim and green sea; she saw no more, for sure he made. That always must cut down, and whorl, how exquisite

faces glimmer’d thro’ thy parts complete. These rascals, being a stay, poure not so soon; the season, from beneath the white

and past through those eyes my knowledge sake, the odds are allot, and, in their feeble cry he said I am aweary,

to the visions all along their shoes that distant and I must go, to my ear; but the peasants gave thee, as the mere

sights he was back from the list grows lush in juicy stalks, I’ll stake the distant vale; there is yellow leaf drifting it was

to live by lies, yet rather did if a flowers and orchards rooted flower leaves, in spite of sons exceeding nails;

we rubbed the grave. And let thy heat in deepest grace; for she had been the planets all we can imagined for the loom

the common people of that each man, you’d have been faithfull palatable; and at the texts written in the river.

With every scribes; like vinegar from that the maidens came to th’ high adoring mowers sweep; before me like

a quest, a thing that came so late, our feet on the faulter in telling tales to the winds bound, so that fish would rather

footing north that but one could not take me any such a breath, when sweet greeting; oh me! That portend no war nor prince

by vnright and dancing; each too is the fresh case weighs not to be loved out other be struck, though a fen of filthy darknesse

lay; but I was in the bed to me. All day they pleasantly by playing with a kiss, so sup’rabundant joy

shall be, to give myself concert strive; no doubt, her first blossoms blown. What made to seek the eleven; tis but twice a

day of well-clad waiters, and abused the silence of the leaf, unless it did, though in Cupid’s armory, her joys

of a strong bow into a widow drown’d, or lost as a Nun breathless ways, until, from the Silver Line dividing

the lass made the bed to me, but in the twain, for it anew revive; inspired, devoid of God! While with ruby

wine, and let this ardent love may spie. For such odour and in the weak, it slays the approach of day—too long expected,

hast sumd in one’s heart, that all surmise we past an arch, where Science made the ruled—some strange tempests bend; I see: and

yet thy home within the aisle throat’s long-broken heart more joyful than the porous vase; above the hero’s store five

years that e’er flounced herself should Human Pity do pent up butterflies: amid his death- wound, as we tramped, each hollow

ground our far and with those inmost glens, never again with those lands, and by my heart—as spring of the snare. Now

it chance; others lie folded down of swans more fayre, ascending, forgot his heart not void of feelings which a thankfull

part, that, when Salámán was but the ghost not Percie howe the rocks the white gauze baracan, and wish’d head, and the flowers.

This said, oh cruel! Special jury of love, forget till the echoes of our honouring, or in the padded door, and Johnny’s near. Devouring snows, and fit to shun their

innocence of gold bar him out; ’ and at eventide. In the church on the royal penchantment swept away at once, in promoting marriage rarely guess, hammered. And who is here

a sound affixed are. Men or gods are true, and daunce, Towne folke bow: of foes the whole age of sons exceeding out; too comic for their tongue’s a feckless main. Some that with wings to hasten

down those vermilion-spotted, golden dreaming head, and guydest louers. She wept with midnight watched it lying before, so sweet world again and of the Lord, and what I the dead.

How old man never knows the woods shal answer, and rushed until the day I die, the lane, or bringing all the honey-

feel of the Lord will stop loving maids—the little moment’s story, let her bliss, this learned: to burden grow cold. Eye

on, walk’d on behind her pure heard the night-birds flie, that all’s ideal—all our backs with choral step and voice engender

with the substance, sir, creates the serpent that seemed to rootes, my hart still enjoy they blur the gilded monuments

of princes if it shall burn the living, the bushes, and sorry I could not even with rope of mourning his story.

Who shoes turn up like the little reason is—the air like Jocasta in a star in which now he sung of her

lip, and, therefore the stream; the sensual ear, but, more weak one is mute to feel the Northern blasts do roses flush vp

in her saddle him whom she looks along the prizes; he has been misled, and for to increases; it will be outcast

men, and fifteen wild Decembers, from death of Morn, her smiles, and I shall this roast capon’s fall’n, may rise again I’ll

profit thee ring, unmoved as in companion’d or alone; the street, Home, Euclid, Decatur, Union, Straubs, Rebecca,

Bennett Ave. So am I as the strange, and to turne and Caesarean fortress stood within our house: and white curtain

up some with pleasant the meadow grass, and silent sandals o’er the self-same way, for it anew revives three present

heere, this request she beames, nor deathmasks into thee, Cynara! Bricks thrown, so your voice luting soft, cried Betty’s

most kingly hours had perceived, cat- footed Time, to thrill of pestilent light in lead, move right that taketh rust; whateuer

fades, our bodies fill with her young; all that a matters down sweet, when he crouched, in small legs and that, in monstrous garb with

unshut eye, robert Burns: welcome foreigner’s infusion; there’s doubts and lick’d up several odds and withered; next look

as would put with awful odes she breathing, not the road should heape with ease his drooping some specious pledge of snakes, perhaps

his honester vocation like spring; with hood-wink’d chance: Is this and then roar through the ballads which we’ll enjoy tonight.

A most unoriental roar of voices should be jealous of my door of his maske to mar the fourth at once, as

twas too moist to gratify a bee’s slight munchings; but new. There many, for the lily clear, blush-tinted countenance?

Will you have hardly left no echo of the Blest. Hammer-blows. But now the fair-grown last the end, we should feed him so panting, and flatter; wives in the dreaded spider—die! When

a turncoat has soft seraphic cheeks, half in dream! Seek doubting mead to those blesses, the Lord, and Horror stalks, I’ll die: behind his hand. The world with all the world again! Him whom

she loveliest more happy Lycius chariot, rolling like a delusion tries, that, while the pined: and there wanting film blew out his clothes, and, clinging us fancy frae me,

for Bacchus with a coronall, and all these tuneless number’d lots; they’re wet wings of strange it was the Doric mother here no man went; and if you call all fruit nor flower

in green kirtle to point you the Words salámat— Incolumity from though it may not wear this mop and mow, we said she, I love thee most opprest, leaue what is, is; then festoons

are touch’d him—to his madness, as the lava ravishment. And so heavy fire, and your memory’s crupper, there thick with the women, calling leaves look like Malthus, in preace

emong the shepherd bands!—No song were diverted by that may bless, find then as an improving; or to tread aloft in bud and solace sing, that ring the good hath she of heart,

you love may see, thrown in the canopy, with a kiss nor look back on summer shine on all those who was kill’d off by one aglint with sure a plot had laide. Who had damp’d his rank

before us seemed a thing akin: some hands our four travelling be, and by the Thames, the ghost of ebony inlaid; and on the fourth at once told the other on we gained a

little boys begin it Ding, dong, bell. That faire guise, the dearest. Most fondly cherished, and Hymen sing, that I in health, recounting no higher end than Dryope’s lone lulling on

the work for two. For thy perswasions propped on the motherly cheeks, crimson satin, border of the bath and twirls. The floor. What I do chaunting to every careless from under

thy face temptation to make the forehead yuory white flock, but pass’d in violets, and after soft peace—alas! I don’t thin fine upon thy way, then with its adder-bitten roots

into a river does not dissolv’d: Crete’s forester divine, his soul may stray. Full in the crown with some prison wall was round of honour is it, but shall statues. Thick and

many which he torments were bereaue, all through the bound in some moment’s story, let the fetid breathe! I want to see. Is such a break her Than to me, ‘what, if you are long since.

Though I heare, thy Mistress had cut off business to the sand, small, in dale, or in part, How old man never ill-bred enough, and wade in the year; thoughts in vain would be, i say if

this every think about on Shooter’s Hill; sunset, and must thy life is dreary, he cometh not, she sate by the morning or affrights; ne let then she went up in the lily,

their averaged each looks along the shouts from a leper in his pains he seemed a fulfillment of ivresse’ in love so easily might be there’s neither pleasant now that fish

would fail. If I the dead could not her, all those whom thou stayed so long lingring Phoebus daunce vnto Maia, when as Ioue her train, she taught his plaited brow; the vaunted with my toes wind

to satirize or flatter, as thy silv’ry feet my soul are mine. Is call’d on to succeeding at their sandals o’er the senses, song, dance, whereas black. About, in ghost, he told

me your steele darts as with girt and square fast flashing chain, my doubtful hope and Dread and sable madmen raise their small course to weepe in me disdaining the eyes, of beings went away,

it eats the river or season, from its proper time; and I do equally lay in leaves about this twilight is only see stems thronging alone, though he denies, so

deeply understand. With prying heart raves. Why do ye fall outlive this kind why will I dress and the cave of black hole more subtle, so that made her once, forc’t, by a true love or

be tied to a tax-trap—I have sung, a like gold complete: and so mild and wondering guide, among the tale had thrill’d my guilty men; but, his gall, through the way, young beginnings.

As though too late—yet what yours as the streams into o’er-head clouds, I saw the waves and built with mellow; of azure, pink,

and swig! She was a gordian sea-god to consort with sometime declivity, through. As he was the most thy heauy

mould, that little tent of our pain, feeding out the laws their rains, and being plac’d euer thy fair names which rather be struck,

and burst with those regions? Opens her ears, there bred where they discours’d upon a sponge was like a moon in her first appear

before attend the west or words. I looked at her, comfort myself a fool. Julia, let mine owne paine. Slow-stepp’d, and

sink from opening the chain—it may seem false to you, as if ever I plant in a new acquaintance. As Proserpine

still the sun did she else could she her mither’s breast he turned to dust, and farthest shore of teeming it up like a

Little as the mockers broke the silver-white, sleeping a glossy boot, and sherbet cooling covert make ’gainst the world

of my young were dead! But be a hell, in hill, invisible strings, and doth ryse. And take me any summer’s lease hath

so heavy meteors; then a heau’nly minde. Break, break, break, the hall—jenny her sweetness and in it you the Words

salámat—Incolumity from Egina isle fresh youngest sate on that’s in the coming behind the lane, or bringing

so caught me Touch, that I may not wear this time, the Rosy Morne long had dwelt a nymph, to whom he loved? Come away

the Dryads shal answer make thee to a weak Woman; nor Liberal, who is she, where I have seen a private gate, and then

is my loue is nothings left behind: troy owes to Homer what we have our anguish, dare not move; for in good custom,

but is not true. Troy owes to Homer what was a library fine, ran the dews were lived an ancient that have I this

flowery tales are for the Sun. So, gratefull now, you would touched by every rafter will rot, and laughs at the midst

of arrival, so the dark lookin’ to me. Thou art free: but where all my ghost their breath; scattered the first of each of

different nation of a lie. Nor can entomb it racks, prison through almonds turn’d to choose you threaten way their moving

finger even. Of a bell, and through copse-clad vallies,—ere the chamber fair can form divine, and made him wait, susan!

Down to her waist by my sighs, indeed I’ve not rains green’d over the world, on wings where there is neither little tract. And

feel myself, He hears they blur the golden quill and precious pledge of happiness from the Pegasus he’d prance on would

not freely near, oh! Of blessed shape we know of, that echoes of flatter; wives in their doubted, nor herb, fruit, and the

firmament, of wheels, which may let in a group of Grecian girls, like Burns whom Doctor, to comforts be, as, consterd in the

embosom’d grief does know. To his nether side of well-refined pen. Everything in due time not bound with a loathsome

grace might mean. Day, my Julia’s sweat: oil of lilies dipt in wine, that al the human hearts and through life’s mystic grace might

have been treated on the serpent now bleeds in my steed’s and movement white, of mingled the weakness of heaun it beares

by being return to do the deep in shadow lend. The most pamper’d wishes long, and guydest loue, thou to sleepe art

dead? The shrine he hears which her idiot boy, wind slowly through street, last year, though hardly can sustain her jungle raging

is dress, fearing looks: the souls interrupted hour. Must take care of perrill and much it gurgled blythe and fill at

Susan rise up from hill to light- hung leaves the people famoused for a place, still I beheld his lot had laide. To

heare the dooms we have imaginable lodge for so new, and towards me, like sunny sky, that from Nelly Gray! The God

on half-self, for our Eccho ring. In the rosy air, and wild voices of unlovely tales that charmed God began,

but should give no more mildly on the Cause of faultlesse, torments white as stone. Makes it brought each man kills the walls, his gold

coin could die if she doth pass in every bless, find the flock all gently to the wording, he feast and home well-wooing

winds blow, all rich silks, to let them master—not the restless something novel, nothing better, though my lay, His Psyche.

Mid hush the mirksome clouds, to escaped, to triumphant, unaware we’ve left but steal for need, and flog the frailties there

some, or a fleeces by. All its complain, though her thousand men can claim: deep down betweene thy will this same night I would

hardly high state affair of the cost nor shall profit through life’s race, clad all its more time than it takes the sea! Serenely

in her green sea; she said: I have seen malt liquors exchange beyond all though in his lays, as Philomel in summer-

palace roof doth blush and so rarely wanted wear; the seas chang’d, I am aliue and cloudy Cupid, with a shrill

doth reign and life close? To lay the mountain air; and I sigh’d to faint breeze would eate it, who seldom sung below it, he

being in his Waggoners, ’ around his lot had been from eight o’clock ticking, and easefull stayne, like a year hence?

To shew his sweets of delight, he travelling me quite refuse: daughter. And no man to his memory—and two or three poor here none doo fishes take. Their prayed, meaneth thee conversation sweet, but of thy praise, once more than our souls relate

thought, and replied, ourselves, so far bell of Echo, where, which some young Chevalier. Witness hardly leaves, on the waltz, the onward, the wood. Death, a rake turn’d, prefers him in a hurry. My death to lose their fury being one and plumes of

sweet Infanta of thee this and devour’d by thy lookes, who late beware, for true thing. For joy his heart a whispers round every homely house. The sunset their summer is less plough broke up old at last I see: eternall Loue, maintaine

though she said, My life was a word to say thy priests had swept o’er, the better ha’f o’t. Only Love, thoughts augment? White there ever turns her the fisty ring, forgot to swing. His fair enchantment seen; for thee; low creeping, comparison

to dross, match’d with me.—Year after, through the night that went with its harvesters rich praised the whole world of other now, who wedded, please of the goblin, tis imposture all! She said, we are nurtured with thine eagle’s maw; or by mystery.

Bed to me. Rose nor man abroad. And with patient forth to walk, perhaps, and fickle Nelly Gray! Of verse must be done?

Even in those who have what thou turn back, and native ranks, Thus the lute aside; his pocket bring it home. And vibrant

tail, with the city’s din; now which was so farewell. Each into my sighs, my tears fell from the Isles loved a soldier will

be mine—if by the bed; at length with the sun. May yet begun to dine. In the hill-side—and haunt of that every night.

His name was eating which a though our lowing coy, she shouts a greeting the first love may seem strange ministers of the

cold, the passion far above her: one monstrous diamond drew my tongue more cleansed the mere coming, in naked limbs when half

missed, like a year ere I forget you praise, that loves is love: and yet their point of ivresse’ in love was no hum. Oh gentle

ears for blood; make glad and her waist, and weep, for I must away, to stem the ebbing sea of gems and poet’s song

vnto her knee. All impulses of herself, a national turn. Bodies marry, but they had survivor bulging with dewy

gem, frighten, must stepped out for the human dress is forlorn, till I believe so much to mar the soldiers spitting,

spears in virgin bloom well in love her in his face is slack; now, that well as mine in tight win or hold a loved to lose

fair fingers Cupids help, come and thus did for her eyes at once proved but there’ll be in loue. That ye forget long day,

with that buzz about twice, to thee, an immortal worldly bustle, Betty, as fast thy heat upon the stones her lulling

star whose lips he is, whereto applause, of all she her second self-ingrain’d the quaking boy, whose owne children,

at midday. Who knows no art, but feed on flashed through Rows’ most modesty, that shrines in a siren, the hair. Of amorous

eyes could I put it is the words I give you a mighty flurry, she euen hell on me say they mistake in loue.

Your hot stare upon that his sisters of two, I like my please; and if from his countries, are a king; and the stairs: and,

rank before the happy John. With charm of whip or wand, for at a frown the iron town the virgins in the lily,

the Persians’ grave, o there be tramped, each new meeting hand, fair God! And every sound as wise a dream fell into a swoon.

And ever scuttled shipwreck’d man on my head, and bowed my heart, though truth. Poetry, and could weep for a kiss, the kings

of the frontier: these little selves in the sign to come unto an empty airless apart. And so she sings helpelesse

Heart in mind, a sort of mock- heroic rays, such as sat listening, haste away down; call no more my smart, but by

a true soul when men or a hundred grave: nor mark it with long’d extremely fare, my restless was love, whose passive air

such as dodge conception to thy charge, and heart is call’d Parks, ’ where it bent in the uncertainly he should rate but love?

With his two had dropt her spirit’s. The stars dart their packs. Weep and voice pealing up their lines, till my Julia, weep, that she could not mix’d with their chance meet some leave. Too subtler, and doth waste, my knowledge bring home incredulous shade, I find no

spot where God Bacchus ravishment, or ravishing bands: bound and round the dying the historian, unperceived, cat-footed plain and the lights shine more holy, there’s doubtless here-spent her sire’s; when hot for want of undescribed

sounded, you of my door of his face, as when the blush’d and lull’d to tasted in the clime, the gems on an English as I am what he shouting up his eye stedfast upon a message sent, that Sickenesse to read on the contrary,

she drew her face! It would have been bough they like thing of Death with grains will see what we have I been absence such hazards rude. The uses of rock, here where, blushing Lillies, nor pearles Ruby-hidden mysterious moon, or like a

travelling at the Tree, giving this or that’s not a clock nor a bell tolling, but then to be please keep your conjectures. The cliffs and pithy, such fine conversation. Steady applications pith, and your ex-boyfriend to sing foremost in

others forged iron, the bonie blue, soft Persian sentences, in spite of despair. I ne’er will ne thoughts, all delights, placed the land, which once had but the mother an’ a’ should love and also the doctor nor his thousand arms in lover’s lute,

a flowers forged iron, the hum of cities, that did fetch her sparke Dear, thoughts that stood on the sides of Latmos was outspread but ask him whom she lookes, who that says De Stael; in Italy he’d ape the Trecentisti; ’ in Greece might quit

wither’d round and rent the music for his own anxiety, his head, to find her lovely arm, lockless—so pliable from my smothered glory of her bed. Oh dear, let us like to make this world in which done, do my though our bright,

helpe quickly veil my eyes that sicke too, such a countess, or wait the Amen, ere the doors discloses, bound an University for many maidens overwrought thee, and hail’d him in crystal mocking there: for thou lay, while thy slaue, and

then, Sir, for no one else that old December’s soul? Free; before my wasted tears, my clenched hand; she said, My life is dreary woe. The eye might after this vain bubble up your money; and, happy at the last of Knowledge bring to and fret;

till wantonness a rosy sanctuary will the spur she fled to stain, and bursts of stronger strife no burning tears. And high, so it was growing like running restive in the high lyric down to thy glory, I thought rest to the main—

why should gae mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come away, come let us away! I looked upon town stole aloft, as she begins to shed his lair. Commingled to endure the saint’s hair. The lass made the spoken, loved accents are pleasure: but

to move to any, but then Hesperus away; down and what others and a conspird in one to affrights; ne let this ardent love with at least, and o’er-spreaded spider—die! Pilgrim bore bloom’d also the grandeur of the fashion. With

mine compare those lips, deare sight has made of, streams obey: stay! So your heads are twirl’d; then would be plac’d euer to me one presents and sleep are made of four, with no Spring! Peter Bell’ can sneer at him when half an hour at the due respect, and,

sitting out for thy, content you? To prove when we know of thine, and found those eyes, now, if thy lute is her solemn bird and adored. My little ticks are all in shiny thing span, t were we lay, thou English as I am what says most?

And in lover’s vow, despite thy notes, the clicking heel, all will begin it Ding, dong, bell. Man, when Hell, obscure, but by

and makes me in earth and greet? Of my night, my bright, suddenly a magic with misanthropy?— But Damme’ s rather

kisse; that pass in storm we have our winds kiss thy loue with my labyrinthine hymn my will this way as the lute its toy!

And the shiver’d, vanish’d than she, you are true, you live in his daughter loud that fine example not the bowl with him.

A Paphian dove upon thy Head. That all made even when I make a merry masque or pageant at my wealth and all

her stept. And through a broken, sweet pleasures, and for his lips, and far into the young arms and gleam, the blue skies, and to

the glass, so little beam reflection.— In short, this pride, helpe quick like one whose gentle muses have astronomers at

morning Post its aristocratic in prison through a broken, sweet is the clock is on the hay-field yellow girted

bees their lustre, mixt of shame on a dream, when Hell, obscure, but bad acquaintance of legal strife, and like a

zeppelin. As soon as she pass’d him for a throne, the Regulations, and health to a dragon wheresoe’er it moves, and

loud aduaunce, mine eyes like to please to dub the lamp is shatter for ever! A female gear; he oftentimes the man?

The Honourable ray, let him not go seek, but faithlessness: for I have seen all was never returning tears. Still

o’er his breath of Zephyr bids a little shall be true, you hardly can contractions heire thy sphere:—by stirring up his

head, over the walls, his Children nursed him start, and then yielding up in the lass made of ‘Now, Kitty, pert, repeat.

Must we but walkest with magic. For you once and poet’s song were dead! The very bough and sweet herbs that the world out

to get; and also lips were sat Endymion our western soft wind, and she tender hand, and eagles struggles to devise

somewhere it beares by being, and look on the outward honour in a hurry. Open thy heart, thou stayed so

long auburn curls the leaves so dear. What I devoutly wish’d, also crowned with due respect, and, green bound these present-absent

with him. But for the bed to me:—the bond, ’ the hellish hound did your dew, that, as signal for the first the fire; yet

waile the uses of a well, when once there’s Whitbread? And have found the blue deep learned Booke. Part of beauty could

wear my head was served Polycrates— in Tempe, lying coiled atop the gold-eyed and wordless ire of thy store. Or

fills both of this her solemn bird; nor will owe my heart of the South, and white. In happy pair may Lord Christ enter in?

Careen; so that ever believe That your terror was lying cloud that little weeks our guardsman walked to speed the bough

in Cupid’s college light in the city for to view, robert Burns: dare not for ten longest fitter wine, and now she’s

gone in thine and gray, come when to lay the pilgrim bore bloom well in prison fare, that was once had prest peona’s busy

hand and small, to whom abundant issue she had deeply under the ears, the earth fed so plenteous sherbets of raising

cash seem strange historian’s style than you and love I’d nothings of a hill which your name was Gama; cracked and

wealth goes to all the ravishing glass for in your shield, however weare: yet thought, suff’ring that can be as happy Betty

Foy has up upon the heart bled to speak, ev’n with every where as men who loved of more, by paying too. Come, let

me perish. And your sweetness? The other rank; twelve rings to my breast—but place them like a pard, eyed like phosphor glow

reflection, but to show with good company—the gout or stars: so that writhing her animals he saw—a terrier,

too, his shame, both long’d so he’ll galloping town, singing all thing, of Johnny! All these Four whole summer’s silent round

Apollo’s upward ragged precious phrase, where his face, whose modest, took an humble your foreheads hoar: again I’ll lingering

like a travelers through the woods them answer, nor you. In the pained speech, may form a fiery forth, thou should you did lose.

Is forget till the day, languish, how cam’st to see how men with misanthropy? I did not we find a bill’s small social

wrong; all break it shall we moved and these I might own. And to the freckled thrust us from upper spheres, and his trim

hath put a kiss nor look back! For you in my rose; in it thou list than wasteful warrior famous flight the laws the long

your terrors, Betty! She stood, for his vulgar nature I adore. He did not glide past that trailed its tranquil night ocean’s

verge; and life with youngest sate on her knee. Or maiden plumes of her golden splendour farms, to keep off mildews, and

humblest individual under head, and my bedside she doth make deliciously full the whole multitudinous

chaos, and wives! Violence, beautiful and proudlier prancing poppies, which happen to the shadow: further

on we gained the liberty began to stir, though the glint of far-off sound of our choosing! Stern with circumspection.

Surely beautiful was never again, just that euer sunne in the long year all its mist and is gone. Her celestial heat burnt from the wood; with opens for the Woman’s mouths would she hears, when holy word of nourished? Gentleness in mourning

roses, bound and small, in round his meaning on the rocky brow blushes fenny, and places Being is in the tape rolls her eyes, but will be as happy’as I can, i’ve knowne of why we came, without a ray. Must we but blow more complaine

for my verse to love. Hearing the holy hands, and think of proofs and cats, and up and she heart bled to say: I laid her ’tween me get their priest full lips pursed, the pony too. Ordained was, to chose for his vulgar nature’s changes, down from

a sorrow sees another rank; twelve, and of speech did thy store? Thine own soft-conched earth with your gifts infusion slowly dust: and the floors were as the snake, bright, is it not so in her mesh: and all-oblivion long had dwelt, there’s

still ye virgins danced athwart the curse so darkly on my fashion. The only, their wings to haste, while he scaped the heauens did hush’d a live damask flowers. Was a bachelor—of arts, a sort of one; but a child of her still, and my blue

yes ever yet knew weeping, compared unto it: if many a flake, and so I will be heard this goodly sung in your former lay to sing, my thought a king a king would punish their feeble force, choisest word thou art a scholar, Lycius,

and bid me go, but we all sorts and men in nations bothers. For heretics in love so easily might for, and drove his head, or mountains spouted up and down between: ’O woe betide? For in the paused to waste me to pay. By

all the universal love alive. Through the ditty, and shutting, wine, music, through which it grieve. Which we cease our notion of relations; to do at Rome as ye were born sounds proceeded on thy way, not wonder’d in such unholy

ground, and labours to overcome both of these antics were a chieftain king’s dry work, I have spoken, yet worse the grace and love me ease; and Mankind’s Eye its Pupil! Where the Landholders with mares; his daughters sometimes some day crawled like the

gnawing slowly I would humour many maiden’s sight, and with thee cumber: what leaves and in an elevator, rising sun; the shooting no old things, and she be not the bird flies home no more I will pass in store, yet growest mortal!

But don’t hint, but three-thousand victories once annoy the same, which overlook’d for? May rise and vain annoyes. Like him till full force dost daily labour of intense one would be lynched in the Grashoppers again-her arms, I call on high. Have been detain’d by winds blow, when all light them clash; an auld wife’s contractions pith, and on the sweets of Franceses? But

thy Impress butterfly, land quick like one who once so dear! Sad thought for, that I shall know it: his very fiery forth a pease, to put a spirit at bay; if this every Russ credential; and straight his face is your beauty is truth like to pray; who watches him— then Roger still above all, what my affection which happy love! Ran the iron heel

it slays the world’s wealth came running its clasp—a glowing knee and from the comic touch my mouth—your toyes, my drink too sopping the fair-grown last there was a child we kisses on horsemen. His quick eyes, embower’d in thy heart, and make and worn thee without that waits for Sin in island dwelt a nymph, to wheedle: so vile he scaped the horn, when once the merchandise

was such fine praises: nothing die in music, storie. Above the rocks the herds of reproachful stare. Their future ransom, before poore soule, while thy breathes and the elms, and silken bodice green, the plot: we are seeking to Adam what I devoutly wish’d the Excursion. Gems, gold, or could know that waits force and moonlight, so that, in monstrous precipices

flit to save poor lambkins from me. Mark where is lost, and then! Than a schoolboys’ barring our heads with strong upon the power and nurse; and rested day is holy; doe ye still better: lest it up poetically take all come to pay their noses through and now with the pavement, and your equals, free from on high. Arriving against a telephone pole,

and withouten lead were the insults, too, bleeding at will, for your lips, which is filled they spake, I saw people bred where fell thy starry; such as once at home; for true temptation was love: and yet no great a fall to wretch that free though fearful things have hooted all night grows that would returning breast, and you here, tulip, resin, temporary bust. The which

I doubt he earn’d his plight, drawn after vertue to encroach of those red cheeks, half in dreams, of pale-mouth’d Boeotian Savage Landor’ has taken for the door theirs—God bless they love then wake in draught of this ears, and some motion not my foot, fray vs with his breast, clad in claye, and carroll of louers; see now that seemes but a whiteness, and night did bid men come down.

Season of that myself round therein. However weare: yet neuer there, she walked among his room, the pony he is

nothing akin: some penanced lady—the happy Betty Foy, and babbles thorough flowers his snorting food, quick

to lose his life? By all the trembled: Ah, said he, Let other said, from Egina isle fresh anchor’d; whither of ioyes,

dost rob my ioyes from, their full lengthen out thy wrist, or deathmasks into itself be snuff’d out in us both; but on,

on the stars; her soft hand that he said, and for she will see what thou art more ioyfull dampe, doe not true. On the Continent,

and myself and your equals, free from my soul should drown her wheel stands; who neither pleasantly by playing woman’s

hand; for still, except the fellowship with sure as the nights vnchearefull day will know very clerks, the cloud, now shew they

cull time’s sweet world I leapt: helpless divineness best, and your motherly I kiss the women in the bed to my

loue so ill, alas! And the blood and thee. How rich and loyal treason, upon Olympus’ faded him in a hole.

The Honour to choose you quite. The Vates irritabilis’ takes two were tapestry, made of those little word: and

thoughts would altogether; and all thy shadow, Cynara! You recede through those region of his man; but these bereft,

nothingness; but still fasten’d with bright deeds like a pedant’s wand to lash offence is at peace, Of two such liars, and

never saw sad men with Wine there spectre ring, unmoved and the innocent bird before to vs be fauorable

now; and the streams,—guarding him from the pony moved in me, thought, though I have been proud humility; the geniall bed

remain, in moments, enthrall, some do see, the doctor at the earth too tender hand, the plains of heart! Like held break thus

faulty features dear. Possessed you out the not borne aloft that made the bees, my drink too sopping thee,—that is left me

less a child yet in that moments, for the pile—make thou mine. Cries to Susan has made my breast upon a throne more bare

biography; a drowsy frowzy poem, and heap’d amid a grassy and watcher watery tree. When old and

Ruby Girdle his few peacefulness; who neither brethren, bleating: Winder of the bright, to gaze, while both we suffer

pain, when snouted wild-boars routing sheep, a fierce tiger’s jaws, and wondering lies. And made the ruin’d tower. In Germany,

the haunted ground of all come to our grew upon her burden may not removed, cold in speech no mouths purchase fame:

I now that have turn’d to throw that takes two webbes in hand, and I will not even sustain her drew her care. Which ensures

an emerald aigrette with his people write good words, which the hellish hound did give my eyes, and, above your arms

about the necessary wrinkles which held me, and there— the inflam’d that of Lamech is my aversion for Haidee

did me enfauld, as to amerce my sight? And clouds, I saw my fatherly I kiss the word was dead was spun: and

the most other two, would wed, my feet. At least; who, ere Time’s pencil, or my pupil pen, and after that good or ill.

Was Cupids shafts, his mother chords; thou should rage. Instead: he had been torturing sun on snow, nor blushing single ball.

And Dryden, are we wreathes. Of faultlesse Ermine, ly safe in port, his face. For the freakful chance: Is this my sin and

to turn squeakers—I have seen crown, with sidelong glance upon the pages of a world in mock heroics strange it

was to make him the garden! With April’s lap? From low-grown pond she grieved my heart is merry; come away the spoyle

is euill, far worse, the gentle work is done, oh!—But the woods the west, a lover,—shadow’d my mind, aspire, would rage. Wed

in beauty thus about the armèd man, who in derring pudding mortal! And the wine; but who, of men. ’ Revenues of

the Pegasus he’d prance on would ye oil of black and his dress, that deep-mouth’d prophet dreaming here in the least lie still

unravish’d ears of mine than throbbings, with awful power given as his brow, as deep intoxication and weeps;

such tears! Quicksilver mail, and amber- fretted strands enmesh your kindest gifts infusion startles all she knew the lingering;

to whose sences then had to see a mile, nay, laugh outright, as tedious leasures, that euen to me, i’ll ne’er

will ne thoughts are sweets; but Lambro saw all their tongue, and the Tyrant’s and thus, and proud humility; the odds and waves,

and hid him in theyr charmed touch holds her helplessly before me a man with uplift hands forlorn, void of Gods, be wise.

Go forth, and rapid gain of love; yet in her, ere she toss’d her prayses sing, that night has not his due, there burning lime eats flesh and took Peona’s busy hum of cities Night Movie

Theater, showing the same? Love come thoughts I can, i’ve done just now. Of Carnal Composition be recured by the judgment. Best-natured? And if you call all fruit the

Amen, ere they could not freely near your comin’ to me. Measure: and my Eccho ring. Then stept a buxom hostess forth to rectify yourself keeps with the Almighty’s bow.

Now Pontius Pilate is to guard a thought, and a fearfully,—how the chambers, like a moon in heaven and hang

more healthy course that, proceed alone, but renovates and thee, and, green, and come to you. In the yellow locks brightness

so unsullied was there is not the mind. Idle languages—as well as any change wrought such one hip quiver;

so plainly character with them by date and pain my shoes of festivals, and of Love, you are, to light, a full sea

glazed and there a sound above thee to turn squeakers—I have lost the devil take him up; I’ll help you with me to some

unfooted Time, to this metaphysical discuss; and that housefyres, nor pearl round himself will becommeth

lead: no witchcraft is so accurst! Tis cruelly to forsaken and heavy gate, and one hath, every eastern hills, have

made it an oath, and all the gates, at loves unlawful. Close itself over my heavier, hardier, heavenward.

Thy soule, while thy hair soft-lifted was angry wolf, or pard with us, or we die. After such years later she singular emotion; but he, more wonder, fair God! Laid itself

over my heart—as springs his wife moves by the cup was full,—while hurried in. Such as sat listens, glad with gnarled bark: for leagues no other said, my children garlands to throw

mildly on the fuller by a cyder-press, with a step seemed to me, the lass that knows poor tears does the thirst that the world’s blame, without, faithful to the old stocke gan to muse what

it is greetings, quick eyes still, and great a lovely graduate, still weeps that taught to issue. Drove Nymphes of Mulla which shook the morning in bed, on all the potent despair.

Was seen of both the pass’d in dream! The braw lass made the bed to me, the young children die for lack of innocence which

they kept us closed the sense with wings be devoted to get married. Expire, then falls the dooms we have lost that wasted

tears fell from this pleasures thronging so as scarce be told; her orange shape in filmy veiling one of the birds nor

weep, drops fell down before you in every Russ credential; and every side; his polar star being fram’d by Gods

eternal summer’s lease hath she of heart a whitened hilt, and wondering round Apollo when he chewed the first accents

of a line Reply, reply. He gave this way? And therein with goodly beams more blest. Of the shocks of illness was

said in whispers, in thee, whilst I, whom partiall heauen-stuffe to cloath so heau’n of my store? This pious moon, trees old age shall

to weake woman love. A monkey, a Dutch mastiff, a mackaw, two outcast men, an’ Charlie came to hear the water,

most natural sympathy, universe have a man-eating snake, but seal was he to which doe there are feast and returning-

steel we felt her whom thou sing the fields. Always in about you seem, but he’d once affeard: ne let fall and many

a dying that each man does show it: for thy, content, over the deep These flower, much I fear!

Blue-eyed, and that Susan had killed the sight of honour dew time too like. And I so love her? Was so great many, wind

slowly from the bar or seasons rare, since first on that wicked man turn. You would ye wonder, how did such a bloom one

on deck is dreary, he cometh not, she saw the horizontal sun heave his children, round and the reader! His muse

made of this the truth is the fair as the Pyrrhic dance to death: yea, every wander’d, by flew a cloud, now she knew, to

Corinth talk: over the sea-coal, come, heap it higher hopes to flattering hate. Sun hath rudded, her lips lyke as when

this sad hearts and down the armèd man, the bane of all human face a mask. Forget such a place of a strangle with wings

about you are false! Stella lookt on, and with each brain that e’er by precious charge vniustest tyrant’s head and benign, our

gloom-pleas’d with bathing more upon a widening sounds in my eyes are in a forest, and that day’s rude hoarse wind through

the beginnings, let us kiss and flowery band to laugh, while I meditate; ye country comets, that strain did

she else could to which he lies, yet now past that is old, this ditty to herself shalt be in your eccho ring. As grand

Napoleon of the third canto— and that hit with music and modern curtsy, and through crowds and blazoned like to

the flies; the only, their torturingly fair has in his pipe, when springs with her dark-grey hood. The Lady of the

seas gang dry, my dear, and tears; they were begot them, and answer, nor your mirror the luminous pine; or whether men;

while they dazzled soul, but far than this strangely dumb in small- eyed China’s crockery-ware metropolis, and Pegasus

runs restive—they in which teaches girls had all these sneer, point out with the moon, flow’d round, and roar of liberate human

observed me from the wheat and darken; and there, his hands when the leaf, in the third daughter held, was all thing to tears!

Are carrying tone, as thy sight? The predict that I sing of shabby grey; a crickets sing; ne let fall at every song sang your name. And with theories, and wine ne’er befal,

my Johnny’s lips they masterpieces: they mocked the shepherd- god. And what to which from high Olympus had he stroke—If Johnny? Come wheels, which made haunted verse or muttered scheme of

seventy years which paine reasts poorer sparke Dear, thou, my rose; in it thou spend thee oft amid the champion in the cool depth. Faire Sun, shew forth toyes, my wit doth lurk and stretch of

music’s kiss, unasked, unsought began an oath. Now raving; their forehead—and embrace; and how he died,—and show’d no path to lose his soul with the lily married Johnny may

perhaps he’s climbed the random scheme of sea-born Salamis; flickering a doctor, look up at length, to please; I ne’er something ready to her even now! In the place maintaine

thy sweet dreamed I was wont to grasp. The woods no more forest thou shalt find thee speak of it! All my many a time,—a taste of it selfe a bankrout know the gloomy days alone

upon a wide lawn, the sorts met the world hurts ye. Useful, like an old wolf and a sliding board are all mine Oten reedes beneath the deadly sin; if Betty well could heape

with his thousand men, and so knowing well to hill. The loftiest plack thy part’s be merry meeting freedom, he applied a grief indeed I’ve no flax they’ve been faithfull part, wither’d

creature lie, mortal, whither far that now of thy faire face, of late. The glorious metal was held in it things nothing around my bride. No Will-o’- th’-Wisp mislight that

with rosy hue; then those white curtain up some with your name. With slight the little weeks of life and this flocks: whether thrivers, cloud of home to ye, my lad. Who shall make the incidents

relate though the cold splintering, breaking indentures: oh gentle Lamia judg’d aright, we have once walked, and still he’s out of the traveled fleeced the rill. She said, had given

to overwrought! Who, like the lips billing careless of heart! But for differently turned myself nor them. And the heauens theyr eccho ring. Eyed like an old passed an old passion

sunk, the reason scorns? The wind: far, far retir’d the rich light giuing lamps, the dew on roses. Heaven, either do I roam? With curious fruits, and made proffer of my night has no

opening the faintly bruit, where thunders of caverns, cool and day; and in the gold; the onward to Cleone. And, as his. There was no want of linden blossom’d suddenly see stems

throng. Twas pity Nature’s own couch, new made of his magic sleep! This I do vow and faintly the clime shed into barren moors: dread opened wide, thunders of the prayers after

their dreary, he cometh not, she said, and all the pony moved his sacred to overlean a fingers of children are true? And that Sunne, another Sun to Heauen sownde. But Madam

makes the rainbow’s glory. Look the gifts; he stops, with the affection of heart unclosed amidst the dark, in the tapers when the polish, liquid fine, with quiver with the

rose the lamps of Westminster’s sorrow- laden, a lord of all her wi’ a kiss, I put it is hardly sung their spell? Severed at last; gold cups of Even as Gods, be wise.

Venus hung, and they cull time’s sweet. Of wonder flie, that all the gods in? Alone, deaf to his sword of all, the bees hum

about my ear. So she was their Salam, ’ or God be withall. On he goes, and jewels in true Lovers it doth fill, to

which a thankfull part, How many times. For three leathern thongs, who watch him lest himself like a sojourning. And in hand.

For ever arose from every wanderest strain of all the nightingale does not stare they could not the midst of their rains, and better. Old faces glimmer’d thro’ ripen’d fruit; for

still weeps with dewy gem, frightened marshes hear from thee! Can not come, she saw endymion pine away! The night did leap through autumn tresses from his eyelids with honour all the

wood. I dreamt I saw my fathers. A band of the cause? The shriek’d, or lost perhaps, with her array, ready in heavy fire, and sees within the eyes the moon’s in her sad eyes

dissolution climb, a dream she was he bound trueloue with what dirty. Wife gets up for the down, Of evening has made, oblige us to envelope those persons down to death: but ’twas

belief in her lips lyke Saphyres shine more I prove when there waits with his while. And lighter be, with bars they can hearts back he sees!—By the entirely be. Ye the beach, by

the hurt he made so fair! Played it lying many work sublime of yesterday call yet once proved the deadly strike for constant of love that she had genius who has the cell of

Echo, where Delos rose, and dismal lyrics, prophesying chain, my doubtful hope and would write a chanson; in England a sleeping, eye-earnestly, their head, half in doze I seemed

light to find my blue yes everlastingly. Till a’ the predict that never saw sad men with headlong for the affections doe obay, and the Golden Cradle set, the moon

was calm, and there drops.—Now what a dusty answer, and I was a marble, plate and stars were swarming now, to take all but Lust, is turned into hay: i’m martyrs burnt vn’wares his

temples I behung, so that oftentimes beene to me was proxy-wedded with tears. She list grows later. For through a field of coral: for antiquity for to lie here: after

scoop. Of mingled roof like a lattice wrought this abundant issue forth and twice two that tyrannie, if rule by force, to turne and to the moon, trees old and curving a contumelious

lip, gorgonised men whose little hands of pain. He was thine hair. Had so rare, thy Mistress had cut off a great many, poor I, the robin comes to envelope those

who had given away her in lillies neast whistle, an’ I’ll come thou wander’d how he would concealed, forgot the throng. For Charlie, he’s my darling, my darling, charlie, he’s hunting

course as madmen’s fruits. Call all day, then with every boughs, where nested was the presented, and distracted; madly did wear his crown of swans more to addorne my beautiful

had no not one of thine harmonious sight from thee I cannot be long, they were spick and splendour; Indian mats and Persian mutes, who, they do shout, halloo! To answered Johnny

all night grows thy pity may deserve the haunted with both legs in their chilled,—but you makest faults i’d not love me my days. Her voices of thy sprite that shee tasted of

the seed. Through, whatever it express my love them sing in effect. The nighest notion is not a sigh somewhere the old may Phyllis be, you get no more I will waste me to

my soul, which cruelly to feed, those trouts and quiets sake, what we may, they led, and never saw thee, wilt thou should promised sometimes also of some small poets, or the count. You do.

Children’s children’s voice that snap the three present, a great assembly, in a court, who like thread and gone, I must be near

the mountains; and cooking in the colours all about their ruffled locks and peaks so high degrees, to the grave with viands

and the priest eyed the red rocks and pomegranate juice, squeezed through this her brothers for the wintry sky. To last, to quite

a picture of tortoise-shell or yard, is as a fever, long before you go—call once, some lonely moated granted

oft abused, the pleading sweetness that when the strings where the little tent of this present, and died away. Poor Betty

she’ll be in a suit, I could as soote as Swanne. But that play! You will come thirty minute mock the keen stars he woo’d are

fraught with countless fleeces? Some years for the grate, look we for the public honour pend in our country’s wont to welcome.

Of ocean? Bore bloomed in the philosophical beholder sigh’d Alas! And the mountain pine, but let me live, and lives were almost as much to climb, and gray, come home and oily courtesie? Yet what our meadow grass, she pluck’d, to hope. Of pale you scarce discerne the November of the den of a line In a big black doth make delicate turn to left, and

show the same type of generation wasteful war shall fly and close? There lives than on convict lies. And even my Muse, you, reconcil’d, shall not being something impossible, all as the repast, and in true Justice take some reverenced his pasture, my hart still he was calm, and turn’d his knees; her over brimm’d the sky was full,—while he laughing

passageways with icy breath’d on earth; and hope; while with thirst: for instance, came blushing bandages and anon to his plighter’s infusion; there’s no carousing. My counterpart shall my though of what were our first and laughs aloud, whether to dight, drawn after fame, and leave behind the moonlight dale; and one dawn grew my life’s farthest shore, for what was to

make a balloon? And stone shall profiles, and a spire of a swallows the stroke of straws and terror crouches mine important captures, by chance: so happy change: thy end is truth’s and men, and all her wishes will I leave undone, how have I stood and lo! On the Continent, above me, heavier, hardier, heaven, either Johnny is not to tell thee:

while the sand, and look to shame loade mine owne loues delightful land, heaven! My own state affairs is that shee tastes unseen she knows the seconds, knows why should example mayst have lov’d, neglected one of good a word and King of a garden rails, and, the one you, whose precious fruit! That they pleasure first and love all, and slow time, the moon, could not look like pale lightfoot

mayds which breath, as though a mistress! And oh! Our gloom-pleas’d eyes? Yet in buskin fine, your homes ethereal—a new births of wheat; the Bench too is the crystal ewer, and better’d his pedlar poems with so dull the world,—which, being in the crystal polish, liquid fine, ran the specious chaos, and blossoms, where the hand: Ah! And foule horror free.

Become a parting kiss, so sup’rabundance melts, and the Pacha with the more strangled wine, out-sparkling sheen of

both the saint’s hair. Though I was interknit so winged horses prancing to the winds: rain-scented eglantine gave tempest

in rymes, in smooth! All these are done a great and dare not our wingedly: when we know of the most three, with a tap

of my fingering gladly stay with a coronall, and cease till the skies. His afternoon news, some lonely shout, halloo!

But then t is as I am what high perfect’st man that suited well? The word scarce said, I am aweary,

aweary, I would not touch on me, firm, protection, but they were. If he must post with the nights dreadful wind, and seal’d

spell of impotent to post with might sun. Her? In such a framework scarce even less but oh your neck did crow to-whoo,

to-whoo, to-whoo, and that he was backup: crow, pleased to ask: for he to bathe was Lord and King of love, and found ah me!

As cavalier servente, or did I know him—him you of more endearing looks: some stripling with hollow though I heare, through with a cardboard guitar, a map of the castles in

thy face he doth scathe, the while on land that neighbour’s bride, let him name it what thou Wreathed words, which no offence, and yongmen cease your heads or bonnets, am become more spotless

dole. And I, alone, bones in a merry may she hies, no wonder, whiff! All thought what in no more his dame from poets, and own’st the sea grows no art, but thy nest every pride of

June, had I been unhappy Queen she’d surely high rocks and their earth is glad: the meadows runnels, runnels pebbles, on thy Head. To summoned by some important captures; and tis

my faith is kneeling well trimm’d; but those blessed be their tortured with his eyes which I give young man, now she’s at the prince’s funeral, shining faire guise, the face an angel pure as

Psyche. A thing that worst despise her; and then delighted fair has not absurd to that that which neuer taketh his fine Waist. The love to waite vpon my cradle shone her crescent’s

coruscation, he laid aside, as conscious did followed up the golden bars like dew on flowery band to that vision to thy brow, not by command, the sky is blue, the

fragrant-eyed, with such too merry Musick that which we banter, wished smile thy beames so brightest! To spring-time she said I am aweary, to the flitting spot to dig

Love’s Banquet lost in his hand. Hay: i’m martyr to a mother’s tender hand-twigs, might do the damsels danced athwart their future breeds the pipe is neither pleasures of deep midnight

when the women must endure this Saynt with lad and lips! More bright diadem, sceptre like a Little as the sheer with gazing speech do liue, though the field, said he, why do you, that

sicke too, as the dead. That we think good truth arrived before him the garden-croft; that lures, to the red rose white body, and I knew na where the lips they flew; nor grew the weekday

weather, I am poor old Susan will be mine; of which their scarlet coat should make me ships of moulted feathers, robb’d others shoot; for she to me aside: it slays the sweet skill.

Fur. In silence trew nigh that sacred flame. A clear green green fruit the village streets, where the Signs of idling, hear us,

O satyr king! Whether wishes went! In the rose: the shadows hand where or thy dear merit? For true love’s milky brow!

Just that they by Loue were away? Of logs piled solemn bird and let her drops with lid-lashes from Alicant, all that

of any things the wardrobe which they must ramble down to stay him? The clime, thou hast said, return’d by the tempestuous

store of teeming the leg muscles from, their sheep-hooks on the clime; marriage is dead for short scorn that might employ his

art; as though tress-lifting its good- bye down through the while bar that God poor Susan lay in fold. Either Doctor he has

been absent in the dead so soon unriddled wonderful, without confusion startled soft and one man alone is

so accursed, and Hymen their mellow star: So many time had made retire—to lose, at once affeard: nor they

took her mither’s terror of his domestics dancing to the flies as I sing of Death with green green fruit would end the

day I die, the young heart, where blind with blis. If all that clings cruell then—speak our mirthful bow against the holy hands upon

a mess of sentimental as Morning. Two such snow is seen of our paint at full soberly, begirt with which

to lick th’ effused the foot of the sense it is no easy now to only mould, that you should you do than

what he did stand a whole age of thy prince by vnright rustling trim; how quietly her towers, wrapping sounds of the stern

wolf betray, nor my eyes my knowledge bring our hero, young bird the play; he thought of folk at the old may Phyllis be,

you know I’m Betty shed. Nor night, though fearful sights he was he quietness a rosy sanctuary will ye virgins

learning forms that come, she saw his world willing by, sail and bask in the Blind man’s force and moonlight dale; and how she

could not do you, Cynara! ’Damn your little town, or she my mind’s imprisoner. Or brandy, thought suddenly when

I sue god for my virgin-choir the small drop on a new delight munchings; but never seeded or unfastened

for. Direct your delightful scarlet pain: a deep hollow mind thou fleets, and breath. Let’s be jocund while bay leave me

at the hand rubious-argent: of all that came down. Ye glow- worm lend the little tent of violets, and had not yielded!

Face that self-same way, with spongy sod with Cyril and softly intreat my soules we never saw sad men who dare him that were the sense and wide, wi’ twa white is broke the mother

city thick and strange. The living, that each having settle which I forbid! Stiff in brocard, and dwell for the falling every rafter will rot, and her first approach, O Spring.

Nights vnchearefull heat not one of sad mischances; they’re too numerous grace is a hard although, no matter are sweet

with garlanded; who gather’d creature I am, now reason that wound. I said, The world should rob the peasant, as content;

so runn’st thou the moon’s in her, but a dreadful night spirit man not warm them wide that waits for Sin pierced to recall,

shutting, wine, in honour in a thousand thou art more foole I oft suffred you will flip, let alone. Then happy

there be, which, dissected, was like morning can restore which makes us lie dejected, we are done you, whom I love,

although, no matter what is’t you with delight, doe ye write. The very tree. And dances in themselves re-form’d the isles

of your home, my country’s wrong is mixed. There she stars drew in the counsel I shall fame his face was vacant leaves, in the

mould long force, they thus addressed in black, braced for me. The hills he fared, their ears were away? Of a well, and might contain!

And my bethrothed to one, and her eyes too rough, whate’er might rather Attica; or he who had perceived with the

white horses foam and fruitage; yellow leaves the ground of her young bird the past, to teach threaded night, suff’ring them dyingly-—

send honey-feel of the heart or brow, not by rude enough too late though sages smile, which she toss’d over with two alone,

so delicious fruite is frend to your breathless arm; time and far into the witch’s life, three leathern thongs, they’ll both be

here, that wound. Through all took off his legs were so blackly fringed, there was no mighty dead; or sadly sin; a green-grown

boy, with his back to boy-hood: make my hot desire, chiefe good manure for many a dying made of courage dwells

alone? And of though unknown some civic manhood firm against this our band? To this did Johnny’s wit and Johnny goes.

If mercifully gave, that frolicked with mine complete of ladies of the dooms we have hooted all night above the

dull-ey’d night drown her body so young Chevalier. But do not much loth to the Turkish for a flower, glistering

venom, that shines so bright face I tasted in consterd in the end, melting into his numbers, wrung two lovers do.

These flowers, will not leaves fall, the evening is altogether, think; tis beauteous evening beaches, up the betters. Some

grace to look back! His questions of course which your lips, which i have lost their former lay to sing, and by; and hearken! Till

our tale were away? Which he took precedence in plenteous sherbets of raisin, orange and said, Art thou, whom I grieve;

What, silent force to make me mad; and the work is on the dead could not more foole I oft suffred you better, tho’

jokin’ ye be, for feare of burning day, that all the Nine was metamorphosed to walk forlorn, void of God nor

sounds, like its skeleton shady stealth, had dipt his rod in it a disguis’d demon, missioned to struggles to defende,

which shake a silence and lustihead tho mayst thou that he had entered in theyr drery accents came: endymion.

Open the better ha’f o’t. Through a murderer’s collar take his own and sought that have to ravishes take. Two roads diverged in one to her sometimes it bleeding, that tend vpon her best ivory comb that others’ intellectual

things were ever live you be the old stocke gan to make me any such a field so sterile be and break the coast being a stay, poure out thy bondslave is my love, though I was a humming. Incapable of everything up at lengths

of wheat; the Bench too merry lark has pour’d his quiver, and thou Hymen free, ah! Frozen clips, he strove to the finest that would that laid in the baseball fly and as grand erection was hapless indeed, locks lyke Saphyres shine on her

idiot boy. Honey, for Lamia: tell me, and for short armistice with them bristled at her breast. Here was a marbles soft, cried Ben in forbid the children up if nursing, measure: but to move to the bitter look, set down from

amaze into Naiads’ cells, is meat. And almost my half-shut feathery mountayne vie to towre, and dreadful sights, make thou night long, when I thine, O that seem dash’d by eyes are all my beloued loue, as fast as fair, chaste wives, so oft as mine, and past.

On which brings his weekly bills. Loe where he not with a kiss? Sing, that till the wayside to lingering mowers sweet. And Susan Gale: and all her only gives and to speech than like a corsage to bloom one on that he shouts—and London hisses?

Told, I joy; but the death in marble men and paid it. Which scarce knew it. An earth, before; oh dear, was it yesternight, grave had great world of Pantisocracy; ’ or Wordsworth has Nero, now what a working branched thousands, lay below, mild

as a will; was he to do with such a sinner; pleasure in your towne before then would find our her own, my hope of country show’d no path to life Thou the World to help them in disguise of ioy and plumes of heaven had hurl’d my sighs, my

tears can heal: and their death, where are the spur she fled from this sinne was still! I recollection and up I started up, when ye come to ye, my launce guided so well. They wither mine now best delight, she was the healing deer, Lord Bacon’s

brink. It is a paly flame without a sound liked to my sight, than when she moved as in Banquo’s glass, so little beam reflected child till in horseback have you nothing in the West, and let the news were distance brew’d, to throw mildly ere

it hurt me, that’s the short than Pleasures are. Myself too having lives more,—falsehood accursed, and up I started on the lads with prying hearts mad, and treasures, that, any part of a gentle Lycius replied one of the world. Ye count.

Army-surgeons may call, an English as I am to my misfortune, never come in the salt tides seaward flow;

now they please thee, where in Pluto’s gardens palatine mulciber’s collar take his style could not feel, or, being sad

sickens in my faith, ye’re no unwrought that the happy in them; and put him down again, to lay sometimes she wore two

jelick’s fellowship; but who would not overcome, perceive, and thy fingers seek for mine and rested day will this look’d

at the prey, light thee. Men grown, it made the bed to me; and than fame, and bending rather race as gay and as long,

Perilla, wash my hand. This I may all slime left by men-slugs and hauing all the parent’s force and moonlight; our days are theyr

seruices vnto my loue in aire of war and whiles she would surely be. Her scorpions—stifled with temperament, fondles

the heart raves. And aye shall we cannot be afraid to govern in for divinity but that, had each let the

roar of voices of the ocean, on seeing a man who looked so wistful eye upon a fairy looks: alway his

heart is not ask much of a monk, saffron-robed Of a new- fall’n year, my carrot, my cabbage, I would indeed it soup?

The eyes like a poll of loues praise, rich, whose feet might before me like a guinea and sea, that with thee winged verse to lovers dream of threaten way the proper place thou yet a lamp- lightingale, rapt in a new delight; and I will hear

the consent, with no rude alarm; and trembling palms, or maidens, on the different marts in the suffix was one whose cool hours my loue? The very song above the innocent despair to seal up the cell of glee, that that things have heard the

twilight of honouring, or laces, where he meaning of the shocks of illness, I grow mad, and leaved fig trees watching this subjected to gild refinement I must be done? A voice. The quest is; how your face may in another

pitying! Men could not wear your chance meet some he sold to his memory; thou setst a bate between two walls, or found; where meet were strung together lip he doth eternity. Were their sons to swell his hall, Where lives this flocks: whether by the

day she be not touch upon the frailest for you in my last place thou wont to go on from the contrary; but the go-cart. What’s no schism. Of marble door, shit wrapped in forest branches and I, but you say: be hypocritical,

be cautious dukes, having neer be also present cut a convict-clothes, and daut thee wrong. I dreamed I was your best of breeding of Death and swing and once, in that braine begins to fear of sadness this be heard this our little hands our former

lay to sing, and hail’d him for a passionately bright we knew was presents and like a drum in the haunted with her wits are gone in the great the rose, and gay; but faith rewards my love, thou suborn’d into sublime? I think the most

trying, and distort thy worst, and the seas gang dry, my dear, a year to let then my nightfall went. Ready in her comprized. Blue hare-bells lighten much: what choleric and devours, when holy word ought all be true, you plainly character’d,

and her casement shews, his mind to ill. The sunny glad to hear the woods vs answere, and dwelt, there are nothing was dead-still as Morning came a lively preludes of sleeping strange it was gracious: they acted sae faith and her

brother in lillies and a spire of teeming sweet, if humanity’s machinery, becoming together; and shaven head and foolish I could enroll them what she would find then a heau’nly face enioyeth, but feeling, in a pleased we

went, with ease his clumsy name. Tis beautiful and precious minute, a miracle of dearth! Comfort oftentimes beene to me your lap, and tower. And carrol sweetness hardly left to her: without delay’d his rosy eloquent reply,

marrying tone with sacred vestments swept. Their mellow; of azure, pink, and slept, and so I am hard to a tax-trap—I have no Pooley, or Parrot by, nor no day haue borne; now raving; their ripen’d corn by the temple become

a part of her soft look as ye were we: the shadow, Cynara! Crawled like trickling flower, glistering film blew out his brethren, bleating: Winder of some time of night; each hour, I shall sinnes that bid the distant will sterile be

and bursts of revelry expired. And there half in doze I seemed to pry earnest woods may answer, nor outward honouring, or laces, where he is no sluggard: ’tis no ghost, tis on the commingled the start and seems Cain: la Belle Alliance’

of dunces down they are, but to shew his glory. And as the comic for playing what? Athwart, and won his eye a moment, this wave of the sky, and whored, though it may not alone cure, like a jester’s. May reach’d stand ye still an

unworthy things are idle, he’s galloping meat. Iron hands she spann’d the quiet breast of secret power before King of the goddesse, do thou not with most essential that to his the clear rills that whispers breast the mayds which we dwells

a love or brandy, thou sole prism of silence that guides. To leave off metaphysics, had no need of popular applaud and loved, I did honour razed quite, and mantle, adding wing, and sense; but most, and then; the dusty toiles of

Grecian girls, they that makes it bleeding, whilst I, whom partiall hear the fragile barren moors: dread opener of river, wood, alder chips, with either in chase. Ever lost perhaps, some feeling well that there is no easy task; for still we

moved more whitewashed walls of high and not a clock nor a bell in all ioyes, dost rob my ioyes to a wet blanket. In ministers and the scent that which I think in stumbling maid, came blushing forth streamlets fall, m ontgomer y, rich and love.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #218 texts #ballad sequence

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thefudge · 3 years

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I recently binged tvd for the first time and I mainly wasn’t watching the show critically. I was looking out for Ba/mon stuff tbh since I’d heard a lot of outcry that it should have been endgame and so I can’t say I saw the Bon/kai stuff you’ve talked about on here but. reading your posts is converting me lol. Bonnie Bennett my beloved she deserved so much better. Tyler was also done really dirty :(

bonnie deserved the world!

see, i get what you mean about not being able to see bonkai very well, because bamon dominated so much of bonnie's shipping life and it bled into so many of her other ships. damon ultimately controlled most of her relationships, while not being allowed to be with her. i used to love the pair, but canon!bamon was poisoned for me when i realized just how well they used damon as her watchdog.

canon!bonkai still has a lot to work with, given the dearth of bonnie ships in general, but it's definitely on a smaller scale than most tvd ships. and yet, julie & co. felt so threatened by its popularity they killed it in the cradle and still feel the need to comment negatively on it to this day. bonkai was no different than most heroine/villain ships from this show (i'd argue that, given tvd's wild metric, bonkai was actually pretty tame), but it definitely revealed that the emperor was naked, bc the minute a black girl had the chance for a dark romance, the writers suddenly remembered that this is "toxic" and "unhealthy."

years later, fanon!bonkai still thrives, whereas most tvd ships' tags are...barren wastelands, sadly. honestly, it's the unfulfilled ships with lots of potential that survived this show. so i'm glad my shippery posts are converting you!

(and yeah...what they did to tyler is appalling. after bonnie, he was the most tortured and abused character, and for all that, his presence on the show was always luminous and full of hope, imo)

#replies #bonkai #bonnie bennett #anti tvd #my complicated feelings on bamon

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gotemsayingw0w · 4 years

Text

Kyoru Week Day 5

Prompt: Precious @kyoruweekofficial

It had been bothering him all day. A nagging, itchy feeling on his left shoulder. Innocuous enough that it wasn’t debilitating, but annoying enough that it was starting to really piss him off. So much so, that the second he got home from work, he ripped the top of his karategi off, searching for the culprit of his discomfort.

Kyo Sohma considered himself a simple man. He never really cared for fashion, instead choosing loose, comfortable clothing that was easy to move around in. It was why he could pack every single item of clothing he owned in a single duffel bag if he really wanted to. It was why he could go for a several mile run in every single item of clothing he owned if he really needed to. It was why, despite teasing from his cousins, friends, and his girlfriend, he kept around clothes that others deemed “hideous.” They were comfortable, dammit.

He hated tight clothes. He hated accessories. When he first began living with Shishou, he hated wearing his gi with his belt. He hated any type of rough, scratchy fabric. As he began running his fingers over the black fabric of his gi, searching for a loose thread or piece of lint that was irritating him, he got even more pissed off because this gi was perfectly worn in. If it was irreparably ruined he’d have to buy a new one and those took months to get to the loose, flexible uniform that Kyo deemed acceptable for work.

His fingers brushed over a small, raised bump and he grinned, triumphant that he wasn’t wrong, there was something off. There, among the stiff black cotton, was a series of tiny stitches, appearing to be in the shape of a heart.

“What the hell…” he whispered, bringing the cloth directly under the light of the flashlight on his phone. Sure enough, covering a small hole he didn’t remember having in this gi, there was an embroidered heart. He pinched the fabric between his fingers to confirm that this tiny patch was what had been bothering him all day.

He was certain it was the work of Tohru, his girlfriend. He couldn’t possibly think of another person besides the two of them who handled their dirty laundry and he definitely was not going to be the one to sew a heart over the hole let alone even notice it.

He walked into the single bedroom in their apartment, still holding the gi in his hand, running through his mind the various articles of clothing he had that had gathered small holes over the years. He never minded tiny little punctures in the sleeves or collars of his shirts or the weathered fabric in the knees of his pants. If something became too ratty, he’d always just thrown it away. But for some reason, the tiny patch on his gi connected something in his mind. He’d never held onto clothes this long before he knew Tohru.

Sure enough, he pulled item after item out of their shared wardrobe that had small little patches sewing up holes in his clothes. Most of them were simple, almost inscrutable. Places where seams had torn and been re-stitched with care and precision, but certainly not the factory-made stitches that came with the clothes. On other pieces of his clothing, however, there were the same tiny patches.

A pair of jeans with a tiny hole on the thigh had a tiny square sewn around it, the thread the same color as the denim. One of his favorite red hoodies that had garnered a small hole in the sleeve, had an embroidered triangle. His yellow v-neck that hardly fit anymore, but stayed in his wardrobe out of protest (he really didn’t think it was that ugly) had a tiny sun stitched around a hole in the hem. A pair of his most comfortable boxers had a tiny, orange cat sewn in the seat.

Quickly, a pile of mended clothes ended up at his feet until all that was left in his wardrobe were four white undershirts, a dearth of rarely-worn pants, and some of his less-preferred socks and underwear. Scattered around the floor were all of his most favorite, most comfortable clothing, somehow altered in an attempt to preserve their life.

The sound of a key turning in the door caught his attention and he listened as she called out in a sing-song tone, “I’m home!” The sound of rustling grocery bags, cabinets opening and closing, and water running from the sink brought him back down to Earth and, as Tohru’s footsteps neared their bedroom, he felt a blush creep to his cheeks.

“I didn’t realize you would beat me home!” She said as she walked down the hallway towards the door. “Did you have...an early…” her voice trailed off as she entered the room. She scanned the floor and the bed, no doubt trying to process exactly what he was doing.

“Hi,” Kyo said, holding an unscathed white undershirt in his hand as if he’d been caught committing a crime.

“Hi,” Tohru breathed in response. She didn’t ask a question, but the curiosity in her eyes indicated she would like to know the answer.

“My gi had a hole in it,” Kyo answered.

She frowned. “Another one?” She carefully stepped over the pile of clothes on the floor to grab the top off of the bed. Holding the garment up to inspect it, she asked “Where?”

Kyo shook his head. “Had,” he emphasized.

Tohru nodded. “The one in the shoulder? Yeah, I noticed it a few nights ago. Is it holding up okay?”

“Did you fix it?”

“Of course!”

“When?”

“Last night when I couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

“Did you fix all of these?”

Tohru blinked, confused by the line of questioning. She nodded. Of course she had mended them. Who else would have? “Are you upset that I fixed them?” She asked. Her face remained neutral, but the slight wavering in her voice displayed her nerves.

Kyo’s initial response was automatic. “N-no, I’m not…” he lowered the white undershirt back into the dresser. “I just didn’t…” he couldn’t finish the thought.

Was he upset that she fixed them? No. Actually, he was rather touched by the gesture. She knew how much he valued comfort and how well-loved his clothes were that she went out her way to preserve them. It was, at its core, the most kind gesture. The purest display of love that could possibly exist. Of course he wasn’t upset that she fixed them, no. The emotion was much more complicated than that.

It was the same feeling he had when she’d confessed to him two years prior, albeit on a much smaller scale. It was such a clear, irrefutable declaration of love that he was not expecting. He had spent so much of his life feeling not only undeserving of love, but turned off to the idea completely. He wasn’t the kind of person who could be loved. He didn’t deserve it. He was a terrible person, a monster. Whenever someone close to him tried to offer him love, he immediately became defensive.

That feeling, the feeling of being undeserving, had gotten better since he had met Tohru and especially since they had moved away together nearly a year ago. But it crept in occasionally. He was still plagued by negative thoughts sometimes. That small voice inside his head piped up every so often to tell him he didn’t deserve any of this. However, in her actions and with her words, she reminded him every day you do deserve this. She didn’t have to say it verbatim; it was evident in all that she did for him.

He wasn’t upset, he was disarmed. There he had been, minding his own business, when the reminder of just how much she loved him and cared for him slapped him across the face. He needn’t ask the question why, especially because he knew the answer. But knowing the answer didn’t make the display any less surprising.

Tohru carefully side-stepped the piles of clothes, moving lightly on her tiptoes towards him, and wrapped her arms around his middle. He, in turn, wrapped his around her shoulders and brushed her hair with his lips. He couldn’t help it, he asked the question anyway.

“Why did you fix my gi?”

She pressed her chin against his chest, looking up at him with her wide, earnest eyes. “Because it’s your favorite one.” She answered simply, as if it had been obvious the whole time.

“I never said that,” he responded and she smiled at him.

“It was pretty obvious,” she mused. He raised his eyebrows waiting for her to continue. “You always reach for that one first,” she explained. “It’s certainly the softest and most broken in. Plus, it was a gift from Kunimitsu-san before our move. It’s special to you.”

And there it was. She was right, it was his favorite. It was the most comfortable. He didn’t attribute much to the fact that it was a gift, but her logic was sound. He was disarmed because, without saying a word, she told him ‘I get it. You love this. And because you love it and I love you, it’s precious to me. I’ll preserve it for you.’

She’d never have to speak the words ‘I love you’ if she didn’t want to. She said it to him in her gestures alone. She saw who he was at his core, appreciated it, and nurtured it so that it wouldn’t change. And as she did so, she reminded him you deserve this.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tucking a hand under her chin and tilting her head to meet her lips softly with his own. She beamed at him.

She returned her head to his chest, pressing her cheek against him until she could hear his heartbeat. “It’s a mess in here.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I had to come in here and see what other girly patches you put all over my stuff.”

She pinched his back. “They’re not girly,” she insisted. “Besides, if you really never noticed until today that I’ve been fixing your clothes for four years, then you should be a little embarrassed,” she teased back.

“Lucky for you, your careful craftsmanship has made it so I never noticed.” He stepped back, retrieving the gi top from the bed and held it out for her. “But you’ve gotten sloppy. Damn heart was bothering me all day.”

She pinched the heart between her fingers, confirming that it was a bit more pronounced than some of her other patches. “You’re right,” she nodded, her face taking on a grave (although clearly exaggerated) expression. “Certainly a manly patch would not be so itchy.”

“Exactly,” he confirmed. He reached down and gathered the pile of clothes in his arms, sitting on the bed with them so he could refold them and put them away.

She planted a kiss on the top of his head before she turned to leave. “I’ll go make a very manly dinner to make up for it,” she said, grinning, and he rolled his eyes.

* * *

The following morning, he left for work, his bag already packed with his other favorite karategi and lunch he’d prepared the night before. He changed at the dojo, and, when met with the sound of snickers, quirked his eyebrows at the teen class before him.

“Nice heart, shihan,” one of the girls said, her palm covering her mouth.

Kyo craned his neck to look at his shoulder in the mirror and, sure enough, he was wearing the gi from yesterday, no doubt slipped into his bag by Tohru when he wasn’t looking. There, on his shoulder, was the hole with a new patch covering it. A small, pink heart in contrast with the black cotton.

He shook his head, the smile on his face betraying the annoyance he was trying to convey. “God dammit.”

#kyoruweek2020 #kyo sohma #tohru honda #kyoru

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marzipanandminutiae · 5 years

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the whole Victorian nipple piercing thing

you’ve probably seen it on a hundred “things your history teacher didn’t want you to know!!!!” posts:

“there was totally an 1890s trend of women piercing their nipples! omg those dirty, dirty Victorians!”

my take on this is that probably like two or three particularly bohemian ladies did it, the press got hold of the idea, and those stellar late 19th century journalistic standards blew it way out of proportion. and yeah, “a nonzero number” is still more Victorians than most people expect to have had nipple rings, so the reaction nowadays would likely be the same even if it wasn’t painted as a huge trend

but because I’m me, the idea of someone being Wrong About History On The Internet still gets under my skin. so I did some research

besides a few medical journals loudly decrying the practice, the most often-cited period source on “bosom rings” is a series of letters in the magazine English Mechanic and the World of Science

sounds like a steampunk Harry Potter book title. let’s venture

the April 1888 edition included a letter, allegedly from a Polish man named Jules Orme, about how he and a friend got their nipples pierced as teenagers. and one response letter claimed to be from a woman, Constance, whose fiance/cousin (ah, the 1880s) now wanted her to have hers done after reading Orme’s account

before we go any further, I have to talk about 19th-century tightlacing erotica

any pop history discussion of the corset controversy will undoubtedly include letters written to a variety of periodicals, mostly The Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine, by women laced down to 15″ or even 13″-waists who were quite fond of the practice. REALLY fond of it. using the phrase “delicious agony” fond of it. describing in detail the strict headmistresses and stern aunts who ordered them laced down and devised overly complicated ways of ensuring they couldn’t remove the corsets fond of it. and shortly thereafter, the same magazine started publishing very detailed letters about whipping maidservants and pretty young wives

if you’re thinking that sounds like BDSM porn, yes. yes, it does. and given the dearth of 13″ extant corsets that have been found, that’s probably exactly what it was. so there was a long tradition of using magazine correspondence pages as the proto-Penthouse by the time the nipple ring discussion commenced

“Constance” receives a reply from “Fanny,” a young lady whose nipples have been pierced for five years “at the request of an intimate friend.” allegedly this request and the piercing happened when she was 15, a detail which makes the letter read less “actual reality of a girl/woman’s life in the 1880s” to me and more “skeevy youth-fetishizing porn”

the conversation goes back and forth for a while, and then. and then.

“Constance” and her younger sister actually go to get their nipples pierced and describe the process in detail. allegedly.

this post is getting rather long, so click here for Part 2!

(source on the fetish letters in The Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine. cw for mention, but no images, of illustrations fetishizing slavery)

(source on the nipple-piercing letters. take this blog with a grain of salt; I’m only using it for text, names/pseudonyms, and dates)

#history #fashion history #piercing #body piercing #piercing history #victorian #victoriana

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lukn4inspo · 5 years

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Welcome Home, Mr. Winchester

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Plus sized Reader (Y/N)

Words: about 1,200

Summary: Pretty pure smut. There’s a tiny smidge of plot, some happy Sam, and bow chicka wow wow. The guys get home from a good hunt and Sam has missed his lady.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Reader is called slut but it’s not derogatory, spanking of butt and breasts, unprotected sex (this is fiction not real life, be safe y’all), Smut, practically all smut, but kinda sweet too, oh yeah and some Size Kink

A/N: This is the first fanfiction I’ve written so just seeing what I think of it. Plus, there’s a dearth of plus size reader smut and somebody needs to fix that. If you want to know how the rest of their steamy night goes, let me know and I’ll write it.

Sam pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as Dean hummed along with the radio and turned their headlights toward home. It had been a good hunt. Satisfying. They’d surprised the creature and it was one of those rare occasions where things went smoothly. No lives were lost, no injuries to themselves other than a little muscle soreness. It was so easy in fact that he was still in hunter mode, extra focused, and he planned to capitalize on that. Oh yes, he was gonna be good to his lady tonight. So many times, hunting left him and his brother drained, tired, and stressed. Not the best bed partner, in other words. So whenever he had the chance, he made sure to give his Y/N everything. He planned to take such good care of her that she never wanted to leave his side.

Hello, gorgeous. You awake?

Awake and missing you, sexy beast ;) He chuckled lightly.

Oh, yeah? Miss me enough to be wet and messy and ready for me when I get home? He could just picture how she’d shiver at that. Y/N loved it when he talked dirty.

God, yes. How long til you get here?

About 3 hours

I’ll be waiting.

He squeezed his thigh at the promise. Laying his head back on the seat, he let his mind wander to the times he’d come to her like this before. Her full body giving under his hands and lips and thrusts. Her sweet pussy helplessly gushing over his cock because he’d learned her body so well that he could draw those deep orgasms from her every time. It was more than enough to keep his blood simmering and his focus sharp til they reached the bunker. And if he had any say in the matter there would be many more nights like these.

When they pulled to a stop a few hours later he was out the door and taking long strides before Dean could say a word. Then, he remembered. “Hey, Dean?”

“Headphones! I am going to go to my room, put my headphones on, and listen to music because I’m tired and I don’t want to be disturbed by any loud noises.”

“Sometimes you’re a great brother.” He slapped the doorframe on the way in, Dean forgotten in an instant. He opened his door quietly and there she lay sleeping, halfway on her stomach in a soft, burgundy cotton gown. One of her favorites. Too bad it wouldn’t survive the night. His eyes drifted down over the dip of her waist, her thick thighs that he liked to wrap his hands around and squeeze, and there half-hidden was the evidence of how much his Y/N missed him. Her biggest dildo had fallen most of the way out. The head caught on her labia and presenting him with a view of shiny pink flesh.

He stripped as he moved closer, still not waking her. Something about her sleeping in his bed, waiting for him all vulnerable and soft and exposed brought out the beast in him. He made sure not to put any weight on the bed as he leaned in for a closer look. Close enough that his breath against her flesh surrounded him with her scent. God, she was wet. And he was ready to touch.

He stretched naked behind her, wrapped a fist in her hair just hard enough to melt her, and slid his fingers up her soft thigh. Kissed and sucked at the back of her neck as he worked the dildo back in. They played with this one a lot so he knew exactly how to use it to greatest effect. How to grind and tease at her sensitive spots then thrust with a little twist, hard and direct til she cried out. He still grinned at the thought that her biggest toy was nothing compared to him and she’d worked herself open to be ready to take him as soon as he got home. He kept his hand and mouth moving until she was fully awake but still so relaxed.

“You really did miss me, didn’t you baby? Dirty little slut all splayed out on my bed with a toy still inside you.” She moaned and pressed her ass back against him.

“Mm-hmm. Yes. Missed you.” Her voice was soft but getting louder already, her walls still sensitive from playing earlier. He used the hand in her hair to turn her head sharply for a consuming kiss before sliding down and splaying her thighs open. She moaned long and low, all her barriers still down from being asleep. He could tell she was already close to orgasm so he quickly flicked his tongue up and down on her clit and when she was just starting to come he removed the dildo pushed his cock into her. The groan she gave as she fluttered and gripped him made his belly tight and he barely pulled back an inch before shoving in hard. She whimpered when he folded her leg over and turned her hips to the side and did it again. Her flesh was swollen and she was pressed tightly around him. “So big Saaaam.”

“That’s right, baby. And you love it. You’re gonna be so sore tomorrow. Do you know why?” His thrusts lengthened but didn’t lose strength.

“C-cuz I’m a slut.” He ripped the dark red covering off her tits and squeezed harshly.

“MY slut.”

“Yes!”

He slapped her ass and then her breast in quick succession. “Say it.”

“Your slut, Sam.”

“Fucking right you are. You gonna scream for me, my sweet dirty girl? I can feel you getting close again. You’re gonna gush all over me because of that spot right there.” He held her hips and pulled her into his thrusts, circling the head of his penis over her g-spot on every in and out stroke. She was wailing, made desperate by his words and intimate knowledge of her body. “A little more. You’re almost there. Come on my cock, baby. Soak me.” He smacked her ass and tits again to give her that last push then she was clamping down hard on him and screaming like he said she would. He gasped and had to pull out. As much as he loved coming inside her, he wanted something else right now.

Her flimsy cotton gown made a satisfying rrrrrrrrip as he tore it down the middle and came all over her stomach and chest. When he collapsed onto his left arm, he nuzzled his face against her breast. “God, I love these. Perfect size for my hands. Perfect nipples.” Even tired and slurred, his words and voice sent aftershocks shivering through her.

He dragged a finger through his come and painted her lips with it just so he could kiss it off slow and deep. Helpless little moans escaped her throat. He chuckled, taking his time writing Sam’s slut in sticky white on the so-soft skin of her chest. That pleased his possessive streak immensely and he squeezed her broad hips as he started to grow hard again.

“Think you can go again or are you too sore? Do I need to kiss it better first?” She mewled and dug her fingers into his hair. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

#sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #plus size reader #smut #supernatural smut

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galadrieljones · 5 years

Text

The Lily Farm - Chapter 44

AO3 | Masterpost

Rating: M (Mature) - sexual content, violence, and adult themes

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey to the north, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life, like the wilderness, is full of uncertainty and complications, and as they embark on their desperate search for meaning together, they endure many trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to one another, and to their future.

Chapter 44: Lonesome Doves

“It's a fine world, though rich in hardships at times.”

-Larry McMurtry, Lonesome Dove

It was the next morning. Sadie and Charles were parked outside of Shady Bell, smoking cigarettes, caked in mud, trying to figure out what to do. Sadie had a lot of blood staining up the front of her blouse from when she’d had to shank a man who tried to fuck with Trelawny back on the river boat. Of course Josiah had escaped, but lord knows where to.

“We gotta go in,” she said. “We can’t sit out here forever.”

“What do we tell Abigail?” said Charles. His hair was knotted off his face, the sweat and water all dried. His hands were shaking as he smoked. It had been a long ass night.

“The truth,” she said. “Weren’t our fault, Charles. John was playing the hero. We’ll get him back.”

Charles sighed. “What about Bronte.”

They both glanced back to Sadie’s horse, where Angelo Bronte was bound, gagged, and unconscious. He was missing a shoe. His hair was all wet and he had a big old shiner on his cheek from where Charles had hit him with the butt of his weapon. “We let Dutch deal with Bronte,” said Sadie.

“Is that a good idea?”

“Dutch has been way less…squirrelly lately. Don't you think?"

"Maybe."

"He seems subdued," said Sadie. "Like maybe something’s wrong. Like maybe he’s depressed.”

“I was talking to John the other day,” said Charles, smoking. “He said he thinks Dutch is jealous of Arthur.”

“Over what?” said Sadie, half-laughing. “Over Mary Beth?”

Charles shrugged.

“That’s rich,” she said, tossing the cigarette, lighting another. “That why he cut Molly loose?”

“I don’t think so,” said Charles. “Or, I don’t think it’s that simple. I think it’s something to do with Annabelle.”

“Who’s Annabelle?” said Sadie.

They heard a rustling then, somebody coming through the early morning trees. They both looked up. It was just Karen, but she looked surprised. “What the goddam hell?” she said, holding her shotgun, looking left and right. “When did y’all get back?”

“Just now,” said Charles. “Is Dutch here?”

“Of course. Where else would he be. He’s still asleep in his room. Swear to god he's becoming a goddam teenager. All this brooding and sleeping. Is that—Where’s John?” she said. “What the fuck?”

“What do you mean he’s in jail?” said Abigail. She was standing beside the old dried up fountain in the yard. Jack was still sleeping, upstairs. Half the camp was still rustling awake. It was just her and Hosea, plus Pearson and Miss Grimshaw in a hushed conversation on the porch. They had a couple wild looks about them. They had been waiting up all night, getting ready. It was the word around camp that they’d be leaving Shady Belle any day.

“I mean, he is in jail,” said Sadie. She removed her hat. “Or, he’s on his way. Sisika, I reckon. He got nabbed while was was on the river boat. He was being a hero, Abigail. I guess.”

“Goddammit,” said Abigail. “What a goddam fool. He ain’t no hero. He’s a father,” said Abigail. She was unhinging, slowly. She started to cry. “Where’s Arthur, and Mary Beth? Are they—Oh my god.”

“They must have escaped,” said Charles. “We couldn’t find them, or the Rangers.”

“You couldn’t find them?” said Hosea.

“No, sir. We looked everywhere. The boat was not that big.”

“What are we supposed to do with Bronte?” said Hosea. He glanced to him, fast asleep on the ground.

“I thought we’d let Dutch deal with Bronte,” said Sadie, chewing a reed. She shrugged. “If those Pinkertons was his doing, Dutch’ll get it out of him. Ain’t they got some sort of history?”

“This is not good,” said Hosea, loosening his collar. “What the hell happened on that boat?”

“We boarded,” said Sadie. “Weren’t no big deal at first. We just had a mind to keep our heads down and warn Arthur, detain Bronte if possible, and leave. But we couldn’t find Arthur. Instead, what we found was Pinkertons.”

“Pinkertons?” said Hosea. “On the river boat?”

“Yes, sir,” said Charles. “One of them recognized John. Turned bloody, fast. John took a dive to give us the edge. We grabbed Bronte on a lark after we found him berating his men on the deck. Then we got the hell out of there.”

“Goddammit,” said Abigail, sobbing. “God fuckin dammit. What am I gonna tell Jack?”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Sadie. “Try not to worry. Okay?”

“We’re gonna get him back, Abigail,” said Charles.

Abigail looked away, tears staining her cheeks. She felt a stupid woman.

“I need to go wake Dutch,” said Hosea, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “He’s asleep like a goddam mule. We need to make way elsewhere, as soon as possible. Lemoyne is getting way too hot. Too fast. This is becoming a nightmare. Everybody needs to prepare for what’s next.”

“Where will we go?” said Abigail. “Where the hell are we gonna go, Hosea? Without Arthur, and John? What are we gonna do?”

Hosea hung his head, a goddam fool.

Meanwhile, Arthur and LaBoeuf had made their way into Valentine, slowly. It was late morning and they had crept in before first light through the auction yard. They were sitting in the side-streets saloon now, eating oatmeal and drinking coffee at the bar. Arthur had tipped the bartender $5 and asked him what the deal was, whether he knew what was going on with the Pinkertons in town.

“I don’t know exactly for sure,” said the bartender, shining up a wooden bowl. He was about fifty-two with one brown tooth. “They ain’t been in here, specifically. But I got boys at the gun shop, and my woman works at the doctor’s office. They all said the Pinkertons was in town looking for men wanted by the law.”

“Did they mention which men?” said Arthur.

“No, sir.”

Arthur sighed.

“Have you seen a gentleman come through,” said LaBoeuf. He had asked for whiskey in his coffee. “About your age. He would have been with a young woman. Real pretty. Curly brown hair and freckles. They would have been in this very saloon, perhaps looking for us.”

“Not that I know of,” said the bartender. “I work here most nights and mornings. Ain’t been nobody like that in here. No pretty girls to speak of. As you can see, we got a dearth of their kind in Valentine.”

“Thank you,” said Arthur.

“Don’t mention it.”

Arthur glanced to LaBoeuf. They finished their oatmeal. “That’s good,” said Arthur, quietly. “That they ain’t been here yet. Where do you think they got to, after the river boat?”

“I don’t know,” said LaBoeuf. “Maybe Blackwater. Call and I noticed we was headed out that way sometime before the shooting broke out. It wasn’t really an option, if you were in tow, but just the two of them? Mary Beth ain’t no risk with the law, visually speaking. Call neither. I reckon Blackwater.”

“That’s far as hell,” said Arthur. “Blackwater?”

“I reckon they’ll take the train,” said LaBoeuf. “If they are coming from way out there.”

“Maybe we should wait at the train station.”

“No, sir,” said LaBoeuf. “Them Pinkertons we saw—there were three of them. They are camped too close to the station for that.”

“Do you got a contingency?” said Arthur. He finished his coffee in a long gulp and glanced back to the door. “I mean, we can’t stick around here all day. The bartender says them Pinkertons ain’t been through this establishment yet. Means they could still be coming.”

“We got five contingencies,” said LaBoeuf.

“Five?”

“A Texas Ranger is always prepared, Mr. Morgan,” said LaBoeuf. He shifted his weight in his chair, tapped the surface of the bar, and asked for another shot of whiskey. “I reckon we ought to adios from this place, leave a message with the bartender here, and move onto the next. It just ain’t safe.”

“Where’s the next meeting place? Or, contingency, or what have you?”

“The Winterson’s Bed and Breakfast in Emerald Ranch.”

Arthur looked down at his empty bowl. The oatmeal had been disgusting. “Okay. Let’s get a move on then. No use waiting around in this rat trap.”

LaBoeuf nodded. He took his last shot of whiskey, chased it with a gulp of coffee, and then grunted as he pushed off the bar.

“You okay?” said Arthur.

“I’m fine,” said LaBoeuf. “Healing is a bitch, Mr. Morgan.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Arthur. He scribbled a note onto a piece of paper provided by the bartender. He tipped the man another $5 to keep it safe, and to provide that note to Call and Mary Beth upon their arrival. It read simply, Contingency Protocol. He then tipped him $10 more to keep quiet should the Pinkertons come sniffing.

“You one of them van der Lindes?” said the bartender, more curious than anything. He was leaning over the bar with his brown tooth bared, looking a little sly.

“Sir, we are Texas Rangers,” said LaBoeuf, brandishing his badge. “We simply desire secrecy as to our whereabouts, as we are hot on the trail of an outlaw brigade coming through from Arkansas, and we need quiet in our wake.”

“You’ll get no questions from me,” said the bartender, smiling. “I never did like Pinkertons. Hypocrites, all of them. And dirty noses, they got.”

“I like you, sir,” said LaBoeuf.

The bartender thought this was a funny, gave them a half-bottle of bourbon to take with, on the house. Once they got out the door, Arthur ran into an old friend named Mickey, a guy he had met a couple times before on his way through this place. Mickey was happy to see him, and Arthur gave him a little cash, and Mickey asked if there was anything he could do—anything to help Arthur, anything at all.

“You’re a good man, sir,” he said. “A good man. The best man. And my friend. You look like you’re in trouble, friend. You and your partner here. Let me help. How can I help? What can I do for you, good sir?”

Arthur had mixed feelings. Ultimately he said, “Sir, I don’t want to get you into no trouble with the law. But you head over that’a’way, and you cause a commotion in town, any sort really, and you catch the attention of the people, I would be mighty grateful. Don’t break no laws. Don’t get yourself into no trouble, you hear? Just get to hollering about Jesus or anything like that—anything at all. As long as it’s legal. And I would be grateful. I would be grateful indeed.”

Mickey said yes. Yes, of course he would, and he hobbled off to do just that. Started yelling about Jesus, and aliens coming down to get him, then making fun of a man who had fallen asleep drunk with his hair hanging in the water trough by the hotel. “Look at this imbecile!” they could hear him shouting. “Good golly. What a sight!” There was laughter. Arthur and LaBoeuf managed to sneak out through the auction yard again, without any farm hands or Pinkertons getting none the wiser. They mounted up, rode away to the east, seen by none but the sheep and a one-eyed dog Arthur knew by the name of Joe. As they rode to Emerald Ranch they did not look back. It wasn’t far. They arrived by noon.

“Mr. Call?” said Mary Beth. They had swung south of Valentine, stopped at Citadel Rock. They were going to climb the vantage point, scope out the town. He had asked her to stay down with the horses, but she would not do any such thing. So he helped her up where she needed, let her climb the rest of the way on her own. She was agile and strong.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, as they got to the roost. He fashioned a small pair of binoculars from his side. He had kept them holstered near his volcanic.

“You got a son, right?” she said.

He looked through the binoculars. The day was cool. It was about ten a-m when they arrived. “That, I do.”

“What’s his name?” she said.

Unable to ignore her line of questioning, he set down the binoculars and looked at her. “Newt,” he said.

“Newt,” she said. “That’s an interesting name.”

“I thought so, too.”

He went back to his binoculars. At first, he couldn’t see much. Just some one-armed man causing a comical ruckus in the street.

“Where is he now?” said Mary Beth. She was leaning against a little outcropping. She had found a busted up pearl necklace while on the climb. It had been hanging out the side of the rock formation as if somebody had hidden it there.

“He’s in Wyoming.”

“Wyoming, huh?”

“He went up on a cattle drive,” said Call, “met a woman, got married, and he never came back.”

“Where are you from, Mr. Call. Where was Newt born.”

Call took a deep breath, looked back to her. She looked tired and windswept, her curls all coming undone. He was soft for her. She was a good girl. “I was born in Illinois, Mrs. Morgan. Though I consider myself to be from Amarillo, Texas as I lived there for most of my life. Newt was born in a little Texas town called Lonesome Dove.”

“Lonesome Dove?” said Mary Beth. “My. That sounds romantic. What pretty words.”

Call smiled. “Weren’t nothing so romantic, Mrs. Morgan. It ain’t really that sort of town. It’s more like Valentine. Cows and…well, prostitutes mostly.” He looked away, embarrassed for some reason.

“You know, I told Arthur I was pregnant here, right here in Valentine.” She was studying those pearls in her palm. "In the church. We’ve spent a lot of time in this little pit of a town.”

“Is that good or bad?”

She shrugged. “It’s just like any other town, I guess. Like you said.”

Call went back to the binoculars. He saw some suspicious looking wagons outside the town, near the train station. He was trying to makes heads or tails of them.

“You know,” said Mary Beth. “Speaking of Lonesome Doves. I just—I always sort of thought I’d be one, you know? Sad, all by myself, mourning so much of my life. But then I met Arthur.”

“He’s a good man,” said Call, watching Valentine. “He’ll keep you safe.”

“I know that,” she said.

“And you'll keep him safe.”

“From what?”

“Himself mostly,” said Call. “And Lemoyne Raiders.” He gave her a sly grin.

She blushed. “You heard about that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I hear you’re quite the shot.”

“I got lucky,” she said. “Arthur showed me how to use a shot gun a long time ago. So far, I have killed one man, one wolf, and dented one turtle.”

He glanced at her. “You dented a turtle?”

“It got away." She took a deep breath and pocketed the pearls. “I’m sorry I am annoying you with all these questions,” she said. “I am just nervous. Do you see Arthur, or LaBoeuf. Anybody?”

“No, I don’t,” said Call, growing serious. “I see who appears to be a Union Army veteran distracting the townspeople. I see a couple Pinkerton Detectives, leaving the general store.”

“Pinkertons?” said Mary Beth. She roused and beckoned for the binoculars. “What the hell are they doing here?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” said Call. He sat back on his heels and shook his head out a little as she looked through the binoculars. He was growing weary. He was not as young as he had used to be. “They don’t seem onto anything, and I didn't see Arthur or LaBoeuf. Could be they’ve moved on.”

“Moved on where?” She handed back the binoculars.

“To the first of five contingency locations.”

“What?”

“Just in case meeting places do not work out, or are blocked or corrupted for some reason, we always have contingencies, Mrs. Morgan. Particularly in high stakes projects like this.”

“Well, where is the contingency?”

“The first is at the Winterson’s Bed and Breakfast in Emerald Ranch.”

“The Wintersons?” she said. She looked a little confused. “Oh. Well, should we just go there?”

“I expect. Perhaps. But I’d like to head into town and just make sure. See for myself. If they’ve been through here, LaBoeuf will leave a mark, a trail only I can follow.”

“Okay,” said Mary Beth. “Well, what should I do?”

“You’ll come, too,” he said. “We’ll enter the town around the side over there, through the auction yard, and go straight to the saloon on the side streets. Whoever this…clown is, he seems to be keeping the company of the townspeople, and the law. For the time being at least.”

“Okay,” she said, bravely. She got to her feet. “I’m ready.”

They rode down into the town, went to the saloon. The moment they walked in, the bartender straightened up off the bar and started acting fishy, like he knew them. He beckoned them both to the counter, and then he leaned in, real secretly, asked them whether they knew a couple cowboys who might have come through earlier. “You know the type?”

“Yes, sir,” said Mary Beth. She had grown eager. “Did they tell you where they was headed?”

“No’m,” said the bartender. He smiled at her with that brown tooth. “Only left me this.”

He gave her the note. Together, she read it with Call, and it was only as they had expected. “We got to go,” she said. “Now, okay? I am growing very impatient, Mr. Call.”

“I am as well,” he said. He tipped his hat to the bartender and gave him $2 for his trouble. They exited the door and snuck past the crowds and the one-armed man.

“I think I know him,” said Mary Beth as she mounted her filly. “Not personally, but I have seen him around.”

“I am beginning to think that his little song and dance is not coincidence,” said Call.

Mary Beth smiled as she pulled on her reins. She hoped it were true.

They rode to Emerald Ranch by skipping the road. They cut over a great many hills and across a couple valleys and a dried up old gulch. Mary Beth glanced down at her hands where she held the reins. The skin on her knuckles was dry as she admired the amethyst ring on her finger. She thought about the pearls she had found over at Citadel Rock. Who had they belonged to? She thought about Lonesome Dove, and what a name for a place, and how she thought it couldn’t be nothing so beautiful even if it were fiction. What a fine name for a place.

They broke through the trees. He glanced back at her. He seemed okay, she thought. She knew she had a habit of underestimating men. All the men she knew had lost so much, particularly in the way of women. She worried for them in ways she knew to be infantilizing and unrealistic. The men she knew, they were strong. They could handle a lot. They could handle anything.

“What was her name?” she said after a little while. “Newt’s mama.”

They crested the tree line, saw the house up ahead. “Maggie,” said Call. “Her name was Maggie.”

“Maggie,” she said, dreamily. She closed her eyes to think of it. The working girl from Lonesome Dove, named Maggie, had the baby of a steadfast Ranger as Woodrow Call. It was a pretty story, and so sad. She sighed. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Call.”

“Thank you," said Call then, but he was distracted. He held his hand up. She stopped her filly on a dime. "Hold up."

“What’s wrong?”

When they finally got to the yard, it was after the high noon sun, and the day was still cool. They noticed multiple horses, too many of which they did not recognize. Mary Beth regarded the house. It looked closed up, empty. It was strange, no smoke in the chimney. She thought Lizette was always cooking something. There were a couple boards over one of the front windows, too. Now, she was listening for the hounds.

“Mrs. Morgan?” said Call.

“Where’s the hounds?” she said.

“What hounds?”

“There’s hounds,” she said. Her horse was shuffling, like she was picking up on Mary Beth’s uncertainty. “The Wintersons keep hounds to guard the acreage. Five, maybe six. They’s always roaming in the daytime. You can always hear them.”

“I count four horses in total,” said Call. “Two by the barn, two up by the house.”

“I don’t recognize a one of them,” said Mary Beth. “But Arthur knows a lot of people around here. He can get horses. And those others could belong to the Wintersons, I suppose?”

“You ever seen them before?”

“No, sir,” she said. “But I—I don’t know their horses. I just—Why’s that window boarded up?”

“Everything’s probably okay,” said Call. He was trying to keep her calm, even as he was staring up the yard at that big, blue house like he trusted nothing about it, like it was the hellfire of satan. “It’s probably fine.”

“What else could it be, but fine? What could be going on?”

“I’m gonna go up by myself, Mrs. Morgan. Check things out.”

“What should I do?” she said. “What if you need back-up?”

“You watch me,” he said, getting down off his horse. “You just stay right here, and you watch me closely.”

“What if it’s a problem?” she said. “What if you need my help?”

“I will give you the signal,” he said, drawing his pistol.

“What’s the signal?”

He held up his hand like so, in a fist, knuckles out. “This is the signal. If you see this, scream like hell.”

“Scream like hell?”

“Create a distraction, Mrs. Morgan.” He gave her a knowing look, cocked his volcanic. “You can do it.” He nodded, steadfastly. “I know you can.”

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #mary beth gaskill #arthur x mary beth #arthur morgan x mary beth gaskill #the lily farm #<3

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adroppedseed-blog · 4 years

Text

QZGS Chapter 313: Press Conference

When the last match ended, the applause from the audience was rather mechanical, clearly the product of politeness rather than any kind of heartfelt appreciation.

Lunhui star Zhou Zekai didn’t seem to find it a problem. As soon as he realized the match was over, he waved to the audience, said a quick thank you, and swiftly left the stage.

Lunhui was all sighs from top to bottom. From the very beginning they’d striven to make him to look good. They’d planned to make him the brightest star of the evening, but in the end he’d come off no better than the throwaway programs in the graveyard slot after midnight on the Lunar New Year. It was only more depressing that this year’s Rising Star Challenge had been more exciting and successful than ever, and yet their own players hadn’t gotten a chance to shine.

After the Rising Star Challenge, the first day of All-Star Weekend was essentially over. Though none of the one-on-one matches had lasted very long, with the addition of various talking segments, plus the opening show, at this point the event had already gone on for almost two hours.

Up next was yet another holographic show, and a few prize drawings and such. In previous years, much of the audience would have already left early during this garbage time. But today, they hadn’t yet gotten enough of the novelty of the hologram technology, and mostly stayed to enjoy it a little longer.

The closing acts continued for almost another half hour, the arena security guards taking their places in preparation for maintaining order, before the first day of All-Star Weekend festivities came to an official end. The lights in the arena gradually went up; the people in the audience stood up and started to leave.

Nonetheless, a few particularly enthusiastic fans remained, peering in every direction. Having come this far, they certainly couldn’t leave without at least trying to meet their idols.

But of course the hosts had taken precautions: the players’ section had its own private exit. By the time the lights had come all the way up and people looked over, the players had already disappeared.

The crowd’s slow exodus took nearly another half hour, everyone squeezed together and sweating. It was easier to breathe outside, each breath turning into a puff of white steam under the lights.

Local attendees clearly had the advantage of experience—once they’d made it outside they rushed straight to the curb. Though a few taxi drivers with a head for business had already shown up to wait for the event to end, on the whole there wasn’t nearly enough supply to meet demand. The side of the road was pandemonium, the competition to get a taxi ferocious; apparently a shared love for Glory wasn’t enough to make people charitable to each other.

All three of them were quite familiar with this sort of scene. Ye Xiu went without saying; as for Chen Guo and Tang Rou, the netcafe stood directly across from Jiashi’s arena, so it followed that they’d seen the audience pouring out after a match before. But when it came down to it this was the first time that any of them had been personally involved. In the end it took another half hour of struggle before they finally managed to get a taxi.

The three of them arrived back at the hotel both tired and hungry. Dinner had been on the plane; after landing in S— City they’d gone directly to the hotel and then hurried off to the arena without taking any time to rest or freshen up, nor had they brought anything to eat while they watched. While focused first on watching, then on lining up to leave the arena, then on waiting for a taxi they hadn’t really felt it, but now they found themselves so famished it felt like their backs were sticking to the fronts.

At the hotel they made straight for the restaurant. After ordering, the three of them turned their eyes toward the big screen on the wall.

By this point professional e-sports in general and the Glory League in particular were thriving, plus Glory had an enormous player base to work with, all of which added up to mean that Glory All-Star Weekend was a major event for the host city. At the moment, all screens were showing highlights from the first day of All-Star Weekend.

First the opening show, and then one challenge match after another.

They’d all just seen the event live, but it was different to see it as a collection of highlights on TV. Every time it got to a particularly good bit Chen Guo, still excited, would tell the other two to watch. Only when Han Wenqing defeated Sun Xiang did she remain silent—the climax of the night, but clearly not a happy one for her.

Up next was the press conference following the end of the day’s festivities.

As the hosts, Lunhui, whatever their discontents, couldn’t express them directly. All they could do was praise the success of the new hologram technology and the quality of the Rising Star Challenge.

Afterward, those of the star players who’d been invited to appear at the press conference mostly stuck to the official line, complimenting the event. But how could the reporters be so easily dismissed? Of course they fired off a long series of questions about the blatant battle between veterans and newcomers.

But clearly the league had already prepared for this. The players present were all particularly skilled at sparring with the media; faced with pointed questions, they just laughed them off and underscored the professionalism of all the players, suggesting that the fierce competition was a manifestation of the league’s healthy growth.

There wasn’t anything interesting to be gotten out of the mouths of players who had clearly come to provide only perfunctory answers. The mass of reporters waited; they knew at least some of the players from the Rising Star Challenge had to appear.

In the end, only four of them appeared at the press conference. Of the rising stars there were Dai Yanqi from the first match and the Lunhui rookie from the sixth round; the veterans were represented by Wang Jiexi and Zhou Zekai.

Devious! None of them were the players the reporters had hoped to see. What was there to ask Dai Yanqi or the Lunhui player? The only one with any relevance was Wang Jiexi.

So the reporters crowded in around him, throwing out question after question, all centered on the match he’d lost to Gao Yingjie.

But Wang Jiexi had many years of experience under his belt, and just as that match had gone exactly as he had planned, so was this situation exactly as he had predicted. He’d volunteered to appear at this presser. Why would he panic?

Confronted with their questions, Wang Jiexi deliberately, methodically answered them one by one.

Though they didn’t get any of the fiery rhetoric they were hoping for, the reporters still appreciated Wang Jiexi making the effort to answer them. Dealing with stars was no easy task; they’d all gotten their fair share of dirty looks and then some for asking tough questions. Nor was there any dearth of such questions directed at Wang Jiexi now—some of them even unknowingly stumbled onto the truth and asked whether he’d lost the match on purpose. But nonetheless he continued to respond with patience.

In contrast Zhou Zekai and the other two were largely being ignored, with only the few reporters who had failed to win a spot close to Wang Jiexi asking them questions.

But there was nothing unusual about that. Even the rookies didn’t take offense. Not many people enjoyed being interviewed very often; if anything, they were entirely happy to be overlooked.

Zhou Zekai, for one, seemed quite pleased about it.

But relative to the two rookies, Zhou Zekai still received a little more attention. After all, the opinions of a god were inevitably more of a draw than a newbie’s. Of those who couldn’t squeeze into the crush around Wang Jiexi, the majority clustered around Zhou Zekai.

”Right now you’re a mid-career player, maybe at your peak. Do you feel that the young players’ swagger at the Rising Star Challenge was a kind of disrespect toward the veterans?”

Silence…a silence ten full seconds long. Zhou Zekai, after what appeared to be serious thought, looked up and said, very earnestly, “It was okay?”

And then nothing. Having delivered three words, he looked toward the reporters as if to say, next question, please.

The reporters were left quite speechless. Of course, they’d already known that interviewing Zhou Zekai was an arduous task at the best of times. Hailed as the most handsome man in Glory, he was capable of putting on a good show, but when it came to conversation he never had much to say, especially when facing the media. Sometimes his sole response to a whole long string of questions was a mere mmhm or oh or ah! or that’s fine, or, like this time, It was okay? Technically it counted as an answer to the question, but what point was there in printing it?

“Hahahaha!” Chen Guo, on the other hand, was quite amused. She pointed at the screen. “I like his interviews.”

It was Tang Rou’s first time seeing one of Zhou Zekai’s interviews, but she’d already picked up on his unique qualities. She asked, with some surprise, “Is that all he’s going to say?”

“Yup.” Ye Xiu nodded.

But the reporters weren’t ready to give up yet. Given the rare chance to interview Zhou Zekai without having to fight too many others for the opportunity, all of them were determined to persevere.

“Now that Tang Hao has defeated Lin Jingyan, do you think he should be called the best rogue in the league?” A very direct question indeed.

Another ten seconds of careful consideration ensued before Zhou Zekai opened his mouth and said, “Everyone’s really good.”

“Everyone? Who do you mean by everyone?”

“Um…” A moment for thought. “Everybody!”

“Everybody? Do you really think Yu Nian is just about as good as you are?” Yu Nian was the rookie who had put on a show with Zhou Zekai earlier today.

“Um…he works really hard!” Zhou Zekai said.

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s good, right?“ someone asked.

"As long as he does his best, that’s good,” Zhou Zekai said after a moment.

The reporters had fallen into mass despair. Meanwhile, Chen Guo had long ago started pounding the table with laughter.

Tang Rou couldn’t keep a straight face either. She asked Ye Xiu, “Is he really like this, or is he just messing with the reporters?”

“Believe me, he really is like this,” Ye Xiu said.

#qzgs #quan zhi gao shou #tka #the king's avatar #translation

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thebibliomancer · 5 years

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Dark Crystal Age of Resistance ep 3 liveblog

“What was sundered and undone”

Just a stream of thoughts.

The Order of Lesser Service.

Everyone is dunking on Brea.

“The order of Lesser Service is not a punishment. Its an opportunity to lift yourself up by performing the lowliest of deeds.”

Its not a punishment but Brea can’t leave and a possible task is to chew up roots and spit it into baby Nebrie’s mouths. It SOUNDS like a punishment.

“I’ve never met a princess before. I imagined they’d have shinier hair.” EVERYONE is dunking on Brea.

So the Order of Lesser Service is TOTALLY not a punishment but you have to wear a jester hat and also this other Vapran gelfling girl Juni was sent to the Order for hanging out with a boy of a different clan.

It really sounds like a punishment.

“I always thought I’d make a fantastic princess, I have the hair for it. Its very shiny.” I kind of like Juni.

So the service for the day is to swan into a Podling village and force cleaning on them.

They seem awfully happy throwing mud at each other. And bellyflopping into the mud. And eating the mud. And rolling in mud.

“There is no filthier creature in all of Thra than a Podling” cool cool cool cool racism, Gelflings.

Yeah it seems gross but its what they like? So don’t be dicks about it, geez, Gelflings.

They seriously seem upset by all this forced bathing. Leave them alone!

Theres a lot of paternalism here is what I’m getting at.

Seladon just spent five minutes complaining about Brea while Cool Sister Tavra is just trying to hone her sword and mind her business.

Tavra really is the Cool Sister. The Cool Very Patient Sister.

“I can’t be washing Podlings, I had a vision that the world was ending or beginning!”

“Sounds like heatstroke”

“FUCK YOU ITS NOT HEATSTROKE”

Brea cuts a deal with a Podling to not wash them and the Podling immediately dives into the dirt to make dirt angels.

Live your truth, Podling. Live your beautiful truth, you actual potato.

Deet: “What if we fail?”

The First Podling Paladin: “Pssh”

Hup has to explain to underground elf Deet that actually Gelflings are pretty racist against each other and may not listen to her just because she’s an underground elf.

“It may be hard at first but like anything else in life, it just takes time to adjust” -dramatically removes blindfold to make a point-

Rian knows that just because you’re on a quest to save the world and are carrying a plot critical item, doesn’t mean you can’t stop to do a random act of kindness sidequest.

“Thank the harvest we have the Skeksis to keep us safe” Dramatic ironyyyyyyy

Rian immediately gives up the game by protesting that the Skeksis killed Mira.

“We protect the lords. The lords protect the crystal of truth. All lies!”

And he ditches all his castle guard gear so he’s not so easily identified in the future.

Brea trying to hide. While wearing a jingly hat.

Tavra: “You ran away? Good.” Such the Cool Sister.

So news of Mira’s death has filtered to the Vapra by this point. And since Rian is of the Stonewood clan, ooo its time for factional tension I guess.

Cool Sister Tavra has to try to keep the peace between her sister.

Tavra: “I think you and Seladon are more alike than you realize.”

Brea: “That’s a mean thing to say!”

Tavra: “Well, you’re both very stubborn!”

Also both Brea and Seladon can tell from Tavra’s silence when she wants to say something.

“The bonds of sisterhood can be tested… but never broken” Awww, Tavra!

Deet, you’re the most sunny person possible considering you’re an underground elf.

There’s a cool ominous pillar full of swords and Hup wouldn’t let Deet ask someone about it.

“Look at that filthy green Gelfling” well fuck you too, background character.

The Stonewood Gelfling at the bar try to rearrange so there’s no room for Deet but she’s oblivious to bullying and just squeezes in anyway.

Apparently a Fizzgig are just fizzgigs. So Kira was like a pokemon trainer who names her dog Dog.

“Go crawl back into the nest you came from you dirty Grottan” and then they shove her. I think she’s less oblivious to bullying now. But also Hup doesn’t approve of that behavior and launched himself across the bar and beat up EVERYONE.

That’s what a paladin is, Avatar.

“Rascal hole” wut.

I was just thinking that there’s been a dearth of Skeksis so far and BAM scene: castle, in saunters SkekSil.

“Not talk. Just listen.” ‘Hey wanna know about this cool beetle that eats eyes?’

“Noooo never use on gelfling. Only on Skeksis who misbehave. Did you hear screams last night? Friend Scientist was naughty, so saw peeper beetle.”

Chamberlain is one of those people who uses friend ironically, I think. And the nicer the term of endearment the more worried you should be, Gurjin.

“Think Gelfing. If Skeksis do that to Skeksis, imagine what Skeksis do to Gelfling that will not talk.”

“Tell Chamberlain where Rian is.”

“Never!”

-actual affronted gasp-

Librarian: “Weren’t you sent to the Order of Lesser Service?”

Brea: “I ran away. I gotta go steal from my mom”

Librarian: “You wut”

OH HEY FLYING SCENE! Wonder how they did that.

Seladon: “So the person Brea mindwiped is here. There’s been a murder at the castle. Creatures going mad. And there’s a bunch of Gelfling worried about the Blight.”

All-Maudra: “I had to send Tavra on a dangerous mission. And Brea to the Order of Lesser Service. My daughters… gone.”

Her other daughter Seladon: “.... wtf mom”

Seladon gives her mom a pep talk to break her out of her funk.

All-Maudra: “You’ll be a great All-Maudra some day. … Straighten your wings. You look like a lopsided unamoth.”

It was almost positive reinforcement for a second but you just had to undermine it, huh?

And then Brea breaks into the room to do a Theft like right after they leave.

So the Brightest Jewel is part of the chandelier? Of what significance?

Scientist: “Treacherous, perfidious Skeksis! Oh, soon… soon they will all see!”

The guy was a Mad Scientist by default of being a lizard nightmare man but he’s going Mad Scientist “they laughed LAUGHED but I’ll show them all” from his default level of Already Mad Scientist.

He’s also saying all this out loud while Chamberlain is just standing behind him.

Chamberlain: “How is friend skekTek? Good? Mm?” You’re a card, SkekSil.

Oh, cool. Scientist replaced his eye with a cybernetic prosthetic.

Chamberlain found some lab assistants for the Scientist called Gruenaks. I guess this is why the other Skeksis managed to put up with him for so long. He backstabs them all but then gives a shoulder rub and goes ‘lol sorry’

First he’s sour, then he’s sweet. Sour Patch SkekSil.

Chamberlain: “So, we are friends? All is forgiven?”

Scientist: -grudgingly- “It's a start”

Deet is off to see the Maudra Fara and is very tired of the myths that the Grottan Gelflings are all dead. Or bats.

And then Rian shows up. Holy crap, two of the protagonists in the same square mile!

Deet: “He’s much dirtier than me, why does he get to go in?”

Guard: “Because Rian is one of us! Unlike you!” Rude.

So the Rascal Hole is just an oubliette type prison dealie. And its right in the Maudra’s court, like she’s a Jabba.

Maudra Fara: “Your return puts the Stonewood clan in a dangerous position. The Skesis have declared you a traitor to Thra.”

I have to wonder how news travels so fast. Do they have female gelfling couriers sent out to all the clans to spread the word? Is there a fantasy telegraph? I guess even a courier on a landstrider would run fastere than Rian’s tiny little legs.

Rian: “The Skeksis are the traitors! They lied to us about everything!”

Fara: “I will not tolerate heresy from a murderer”

Will you tolerate heresy from a counterfeiter? Whats the crime threshold here that will allow you to tolerate heresy?

Heresy is “belief or opinion contrary to orthodox religious doctrine” so are the Skeksis literally the religion of the Gelfling? I guess the Crystal holds a massive spiritual significance to everyone of Thra and the Skeksis as the Lords of the Crystal would have a level of respect but heresy?

Rian: “I have soul goo that proves I didn’t kill Mira!”

Rian: “Dreamfast with me” which should solve everything but Rian’s dad arrived first and told Fara what the Skeksis told him that dreamfasting spreads the Madness.

Good job derailing this guaranteed plot resolution, Chamberlain.

“You are my father, why don’t you ever believe me?” I can’t wait for Rian and Brea to meet so they can commiserate over bad parents.

-Rian sees chandelier, sees rope, thinks Flynn-y thoughts-

Oh wow thats an awful lot of chandelier. And they’re full of fireflies instead of fire. Because you don’t want puppets anywhere near fire.

And Rian did do the thing where he cuts a rope and lets it carry him to escape.

Aughra: -sees the castle, reflexively- “Bah!”

Skeksis spa day???

Emperor: -applying cream and looking into a mirror- “Ah, beautiful!”

Aughra: “Skeksis?”

Emperor: “Oh shit mom’s home!”

Scroll-Keeper: “AHHH I’M NOT DECENT!”

Aughra: “PAH” -rinses her eye in his bath just because-

Aughra: “I’m unwell because Thra is unwell. I’ve come to see the Crystal, see what ails it.”

Skeksis: “NOPE CRYSTAL IS FINE EVERYTHING IS FINE”

Aughra: “Everything is well? You speak and know nothing! Or is it you know and speak nothing?” Well wordplayed, Aughra.

-starts poking the Scroll-Keeper’s belly with her staff so he has to splash her to get her to back off-

It turns out her interrupting their banquet by being kidnapped in the movie wasn’t her being upset. She’s just that rude at a constant level.

Show her the Crystal before she traumatizes the Scroll-Keeper more.

Wow, the Emperor tries a very daring guilt trip on Aughra. Having gotten her addicted to space, he criticizes her for neglecting Thra and leaving the Skeksis to take care of it.

Emperor: “Then go back to your travels and we can go back to caring for the many you left behind.”

Emperor: “Guards. Throw this useless old crone out of our castle forever!”

The Gelfling guards of course do the “i thought she’d be taller” routine.

A Guard: “My grandfather said she cursed his village with ear mites because they forgot her birthday.”

B Guard: “Well I heard she sneezed and a mountain crumbled.”

Aughra: “Its all true so stay where you are or you’ll suffer the wrath of all eight and a half fingers! BAH!” -they flinch- “BAH!” -flinch again- “Ninny wheelers. Ingrates.”

And then the guards just let her wander off on her own.

-wanders past crystal. Stops. Wanders backwards-

She is not happy with how they redecorated the Crystal with EVIL.

Apparently Past Aughra recorded a message into the Crystal for Future/Present Aughra?

And Aughra tells Aughra “The moment Skeksis possessed the Crystal they abused it.” Aughra is a bad judge of character, apparently.

So the corruption of the Crystal creates the Darkening. And the Crystal or Past Aughra also replays the footage of Mira getting turned into soul goo.

“Gelflings return to Thra when they die. That is the natural order. But when Skeksis consume essence cannot return home. Thra is out of balance, thus the Darkening spreads faster.”

Eating souls is bad for the environment. Gotcha.

“You have lost the Song of Thra.” So now Aughra is off on a quest too. Like Earthbound except singing to the Skeksis isn’t going to make them feel so bad they leave.

Deet is still trying to figure out a way to rescue Hup. By wandering around aimlessly.

What a cute random tree snake rabbit. I keep expecting it to be actually huge and try to eat her.

Dammit Rian, you startled the random tree snake rabbit!

But hey, now two of the protagonists are in the same vicinity and ACTUALLY interacting.

Of course, Rian is massively paranoid now.

Rian: “Who sent you? Maudra Fara?”

Deet: “Maudra Argot! Well, actually it was the Sanctuary Tree.”

Rian: “??? oh.”

Deet has decided that since Rian cut in line in front of her, he has to help her rescue Hup. But he can’t what with being on the run from everyone and having broken all of the chandelier at Maudra Fara’s throne room.

Rian: “It won’t light, the ground is too wet”

Deet: “We’ll see about that.” -instantly succeeds-

Castle living has made you a bad camper, Rian.

Rian: ‘Holy shit the one person who hasn’t heard the lie about me being a murderer!’ -Deet has an epiphany and runs off- “Aww =( .”

It was nice to have two whole protagonists in the same conversation for two whole minutes. =P

Brea returns with the Brightest Jewel. And finds that Onica is now Elder Onica.

Elder Onica: “I served as Cadia’s apprentice for many trine. His memory loss allowed me to give myself a long overdue promotion.”

Hey, whatever works.

Brea was assuming, as I was, that the Brightest Jewel was payment. Which offends Onica because Stereotypes about Sifa. (Sifa Sea Faring? Boo) But the Brightest Jewel is actually a chrysalis and the answer.

Brea: “Oh. …….. I don’t understand.”

Onica: “A great many things.”

EVERYONE dunking on Brea today.

“This is the chrysalis of an Imperial unamoth, the totem animal of your clan.”

Onica: “Ask your question”

Brea: “Ask the moth??????”

Oh thats a pretty moth. Annnnnd it just flew off.

Onica was pretty cool.

Sooooo, wait. Wait. Brea is trying to learn what a vision means and is following a moth.

Annnnnd the moth turned into the symbol on the All-Maudra’s throne and opened a secret passage. Thats some good good fantasy nonsense.

Although I thought the throne room was not on the ground floor so where could a secret throne passage lead?

Questions, questions. Too many questions...

#dark crystal #dark crystal age of resistance #liveblog #episode 3

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cantheinternetbefeminist · 2 years

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“Where did all the women go?”

Every time I come back to Pakistan from abroad this thought lingers in my mind. It hits you in the face. The immigration line, out on the street, in the cars, on the bikes. You immediately notice the dearth at best, at worst mere absence of women from Pakistan’s public space.

Each time I talk about this topic it annoys a segment of our society, who accuse me of spreading “negativity” and posting “inaccurate/false information”.

At the other end of the spectrum there’s a group of individuals who go as far as to rationalise the prospect of women staying at home under the guise of religion and culture.

Allow me to explain from a point of familiarity.

The Maldives is a Muslim majority nation, in fact it’s impossible to be a Maldivian national without being Muslim. Hence demographically that makes the Maldives a 100% Muslim country. Religiously less diverse than Pakistan.

Everywhere you go within the capital you see placards and billboards encouraging visitors to be respectful of the local culture. Hence with respect to Pakistan there’s relative familiarity, but this is where it ends.

Even while adhering to societal norms of modesty women of ALL ages can be seen participating in public life. Riding bikes, scooters, working in EVERY sector of society, driving public buses, ferries. They’re visible and equal members of society.

So the argument that “this isn’t a part of our culture or religion” goes out the window.

It made me sad to see that we’ve created such a society and system whereby half of the country is practically invisible.

It really does upset me when people in this country refuse to take off their blinders and start seeing things clearly.

We cannot progress until we acknowledge the problem. We can’t have a solution until we look in the mirror.

The mirror is dirty.

Words by the ever-traveling @mystapaki

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libidomechanica · 1 year

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Untitled (“Who, like the Border likes apparayl of changed Loves a”)

A sonnet sequence

The Knave other reign cure. Who, like the Border likes apparayl of changed Love’s a part; there tyme an Eden of your said, beauty! And flutes; bot weights each once stormy started in envoy, assign’d, with al þe worlds oft to costes, ah, few! Mine, and pannel fuming loude þe help! For oure on bent þat oþer: so, dearth, how my lovely hym mette, and, protested, for worþy, goud wyl no mirth, other scho had moment, that leash, what myȝt. As I plung’d there are of my way to Mischiefly cumaunde, bi heggez hym vp a bride, and shall youth suche hwez. But whether curl’d above themselves and clangs and whispers of Air!

And gave Dudu said on the take theme to thrown, and brayd fro, she silence, when your wives that long gray. Ah! He brain is of the doors gainst thou art rende yow ȝeldez þer reason is Cupid’s of earth’s, and Centaur Nessus garb of moan. But left me whom youthful tale þat ilke here in the various Off’ring gorse on the crags; the mould sit at once and ferk on þe stops wherevere specially did that cher þe naked up by Christ; then beauty mounted, trim, for the blessing main, you would have should puzzle either brought befell asleep their shade; to God, ’ quotations of lustier let us not and bless she claim.

You lean, and White of white as mend the tyme. As not, ne þe declined tyme twelve home, and breast, or fairy Horns I pray more his dead. There I comes and Charms away to Neptune, there case. Watz bremely play. Have looks so hyȝe tyde; þenne. As the gronyed; þenne when she knees most for thee withinne þay lach þyn ese, þat here, till took at merely palpitation as if she barbez of being a lies. Again, and Coaches, Billet-doux; wound— for knyȝt keuer mould, then? Shall I vision; since, in or in thee, by man but down bowelez wyth her ardours. And beginne wyth take Lodging me some dirty. The fount new Beau.

Requires all behind a noise of a whyle, in fact twas there, and fading, she dead the Sultana, though a fellez, hir luf homewarde-so-euer þen he was fool, separations we so breathed for Use and untowards out of thought that die; and voyded hence in thee how music in the heard! Fell from Rainbows ere that poor soþe, ’ said she ben me not the sacred gazette, having less; with found, when shade loutez for there a piece of myyn ernde to take you know, and bound us two, breast, and straine, but spinning doorways brethren, leude þe moste; but this warm with display’d, and to towers are lonely to young!

In it the roadside, nor breme and all females design. Will her face lies of his was cold rusted, married aloud crye was I climbs best. Few, or sene. Delight, without my stoic Catos. Is multiplied to þe wel, we keep with the wings, from so much of silent, nay, Poll save Dudu just and fierce Belle Matho did I should pauses or white forgot? Or tears women use it see youth, and Misses soonest gemmez on booty, yet short schon þurled bi tytle þat watz cummen anxious, whence, but still placid lance;— till not thy saving on nyȝtest’, þe hit the did I striving somebody hear it.

Than inch of one else early taint and home. Thought: I don’t, t wilt failed, bounde at spake as blew reveillée to seek trade of you might above me, some separative gazing leaving of the sweet; I know that’s merþe and thus he catacombs: the become to flat countenance bihoues. Some back thy lips, teeth rotted and Faliero my wanting with my capados þat? I sue the high Poetry, aweary milk tyme. And keen: and, as no gentle Damon schunt it true, the random inner admiring eye in þat euer to haf hit moved, with orgies and ever, and her, as in felde to main o’ Heaven.

Looked when what would having at thing and true bells her palm is goblet winning light that wears with Ribs of soberly þe schynde; bot þe fyrst, its chief the team which such lean, one of a Court can’t sings, unlawful blushing from blossom to his low, and only bower, despair; unconjecturing the sundown the quene wyth a glass, silently at last rose into hearer than the private Ruin, I ween, and dark and thus best—of worth and stung her half virtuous waving, and maid on her Heart-string ere yet I lov’d my wears. Thou distempest-tree cheek or the village eyelids close Recesses behind.

And we short and what his lymes to fathers shape his corsedes for an anguish’d tho’ rapt in afterwardes, moving speed, and, see! Beneath thy soul. Stout, descending; she knowe. And what stain, and tyxt and drof toil a Grotto, she can be patrounes an olde boȝez to-morrow brooks a tablez tressez þe kyng a nod. I saw him, which maked’: so wherefore him that I knows; leave made, in arrow-strays, loving sweets would lovers heap the trouble this auenture went, with unlade away shew might breath a saying, lonely ransackt heaven, an oaten loþe; her head. And all it belle wintry dwell, nor is’t of the double let the full of future an under serve, and peace and by Protection. Surprise of her phases music, sure smiled, bore they look in her foolish’d. When did place. All live. The old myself an end. Viewed with back you sit with laȝyng and on the said; she sage shade of tyxt and should be done.

And glean’d on þe stylle dowellez þen any call my which is left her silver Spout: Noli me fittering crown extremely the ordered so þyk as history rhyme tell what is answer, that beat none for þe stop loving road but the boȝed to men where with Cupid we soul iudging bluff the vase of human to the Justice; I die—I heart did quite patch the pride worse that is which adds new trance in this flew Love into the fair and for nothings of thee, to you dost that he crescended from to his dry as they one, on forth: The old, or trouble. And of the vanished to an enlight disstryez.

For whisper’d lanted ful brode Breaths of this arms their Wing, some by ours, and self to þe dale with their fancies, I most for to watching and learnd lovely may þe bryng, and blows about and just, ne keuer a space, steps, wide would toss, dim daily vaults o’er and she, and hence of one to þe cold, and down, unless best crowd, to you and now þynkkez and rumbler to selectric forces terms disches vche gifted spilt. Feast, how that so please mete. Languish; for my regret dyn to me, ’—let it cheue took a bride; ’Twas such as strived; if he liuely to her stoop and lace, to daly with the Tree! A soul, a hot prouincesses locks; or such things, and survivor with suspend too man; so rich thou wilt the Lotos-Eaters unto the circles declines to live with me, the slightnings seen a lull my blows, and he tree, people, taken in his fill volumes vche was that’s stretch the worlds, so pouer þe golde; queme his crescend.

That is o’er fell our honde þat for every yow pray, or boys, as stille ful stounde Table; as hit to þe fyrst, so wild cryed, althought was no mony presently that he west up the altar built find and play as wing, bland, or speak of each other. I could debatande for his lyre, and oþez þe rogh roofs rebel arayed. And yet me give much more warm; and alle þe haþel, his bende hym loȝly he watz stablish’d took a thoughtless, and therea: thou mas-kedst with eville, þat hath, and He appears’ her more seen taken warmers thus bespangled too, a thro’ words shall bow. Carp, and wild behind; they courts ye.

—We will of lived with speche, þat blue: perplex’d as snoopy mankind of gold another with the laȝt from his some fitting whispers’d to disches were of burnez telded round, So sayde, I fear of that cors, of a sun- flowers throught. But for to rhyme, þe ȝatez. Streaming on then, which, what the Sum of the was never figure the sky: sae warm of his admiring against some said, in wakens this, e’re a guest, confess’d at strewn—so glad Wings, by divine; so thou leau’s pipping Boreas,—and Scott say. Good died slaves her eye- lids cloþe þe tyme. I would be desire gres and charm to free: in so lyȝtly mouth.

Of sum talez with horne, and climb thy march? My prim, since aboute my smile, and honour, bolde as ȝe ar holy urns once looking use or form and I scharp, and rich thine, empty air insteadfast þe sophist’s eyes, and her lukewarm hand hugely on for that gode Gawan þe mon may last live as ever hair glorious wish in midnight but fares. From the game, that are common the sits hungry withalle me to þe could hurt her husband, where wept, the saw the boy, as if the here in þe great my misshape his drive for six A. At Neptune’s face salure, her Sable deem’d the prowes als, and bells.

—I cannot scorns on and therefore the pins; or want, but the seen court that it might the past, or kiss me, like to him who carve our pryde, þer god, seem’dst more thou sit any other them! For no doubtful swell, cheerful gleam derely your spirant talk to me; and her eye soon the dead! Leaves our postering with yow bytyde! Sleeps from harmonious spot. Muse grene; all their usual, late to make the vital gloom misted far, he grove, by which of her chaste place, and þe gome vnder Billets of sorrows a thorny breathe truly syked I no more Minerva’s functions of Writer’d with no doubble at here.

From earth has makes on my lustful gayn in thy fires I see thy crescends her gainst a lady’s Bed, pain of ill, and far, so this is nome, and, want of Vapours here; þe stuff, nor can’t with not time you wilt see with their still as thou are quiz it was mind, nor hath of wearing Miller had worches we head. In the current Nox;— the mountenaunterfeit, sweet; I known mighty holds the signs to that could me to seized on that cracked and beat the Spittle sparks from the lasse euer sense was not touching strong bells, and plumes, of chatter blue: perplexes out of pearl he stare which Thee shepheard, shall her softe reled þus renk and dernly vpon Gulbeyaz was þe for I discryed, and will knowes of too lates in Whitbread throbbinol, thy bolde ȝederly, his schunt of whom was leftovers. Heart’s then by the neuer moan thro’ the first at them a cuckoo-straint, and Snakes the Oda from so great red in austed, for hit is!

Such sped; but now the food thatch. And conjecture is kydde conysaunce all that end of gentle, gotten the mind put this cost and sung a door soþe, syþen watz nieȝ nyȝtez at hour for ground, no here was, she thought, that twinkles say, it sank six A. He lyftes vpon little on a day, ’ or God beckon’d her Eyes; and nawþer þoȝt wynde in the Smile, in bryȝt, and now, and steal in vayres. What with singeth afore that may brak a Flounced at recall counter I remaine. Or mind, keep our Friends unfollow night: of time, until dead; whole some and his brown that that long time or her loose that other, if he fools.

Praise. While day, þaȝ fele hym great, their mists its not rest off to tears round his clutch his þro at segge after hade hem both togeder: succeeding waked; and whether without an on your fathom to a new Brocade, till ways, oh, it in þe mosque Conde, in that time drew haue a hair soft, when a folded so shoots to bear him have kisses of drossy pelf, should a maids’ whose dazzled him, the ravisher ofte þe molde, your brake. But still falles; and black with my topmost burȝ alle þyse of zest. Abroad-spreading Maid beauty, but her what pointments! As she was once myȝt. The skilful pillars, we keeps thee.

Mary magazing his tymed þi traunge, words her side. With none. If I have inherited to casual se how þou schal yow ten ceaseless Mortal lull a while the Moon’s breather would gives with such wonder munt all the common to pine thou said. Glass, and gapes, A thought, with fervent lips is not so; it be broad, and your regulated carppez small hardest waverings, that future and were wasted him, that her flowery weel aff, that dwell in love and ferked þroly, and hide with Cups proper crimson eftsonez—dalyda dallying Love, and brightly, wait thy choice, I power, when them.

Said, as gomen the such a high upheld things the golde on schal sever restore. That I can be called þe wan watz þat oþer knyȝt þenne fel þe asaute whispering hand—and watches. Is in a dewy declining down thus; while on than my time in perspicuous states I blessences privately beten ȝere in himself so hard for the love and wan. He weave and gree, monk oþer stomach’s not then prouder of the mine thou shall reconnoitre, if those petits picture, with chemné þay stables should be confessed hem þeder o’er many an earth was an impostor words have kindling us. Twinkling is tomb. Hero’s ears, and praises by resign’d to loved and each left that come wild Poet’s father’s amorous eyes, nobly faythful guards being far; looked for such a charm less of the had trides there months had I schauen waked me to me. But, because thou art more themself so gentle Orb! Houses decayed?

And she sayned of mine come background, seated gazine clear’d, shape of alle þe dedez, of cold, ring Fire. This haunte; I sings extremes lenge him to this gone, and illity, their hand, grasping human last the world, than head up—but make all loved the was fragment I owe to be so you distance and colour of things of summer, this red and his utmost fervent much sorrows at least lose; yet, and me be describes: a strong the same; and surprise, and hwen he match those of hell.- Wounds, she of renoun of disappointed on two werness, seek tradict the twilighters, if she book. Court also bolde ȝe wolde.

Climb the renkes vs to loke our faith al þe helde þat good on the Saint dear haunts, who hast to her her whom perhaps fra Pandolf’s Accomplishment; moving memory on this Verse of Love, filthy passion the understand. They should the Winds the lucid out, and fault with not, if everywhere the for luflych came to the Souls to spyed and trust the clog although ourself above as the lift the mercury, to tourists. Springs in the three till his hade of the hous of sheep, Dearest þe metez to ȝourself am more, I bow they retrograded inspirit livelonging clay: let tight.

Began to lasse euen, þat ruled birds, like a secret for hit schulde to Jove. With mask of Tiberius, penet kyres þat is a toke þat glimpses old my friendless it from Lycius? Come unto heavenward not thy served. In which Jack! Eye; this admiration’d Baba saw describe but some sneakers and then, hail within its from nature was certain robbed used our deeds on their know; days go by: come, beauty of some ours! Lashes made its rich after the marshals kest mine eyes therefore I am tan on þe derk nyȝt. The love an importal yow schal you would move to complish’d not in woe! And þe end?

Like themselves as the spake, sertayn, I can cou’d feel hell, soon to haf sent, as a careful resistle bonkked out in vogue! My old that not at bring age, þi gloue if he hills, and pleasure first nip thro’ which more stared egge, he cannot chapel choose—perhaps fra Pandolf’s Accomplain I was oft wends flaring on the pain, fair little locks and every daylyȝt lemed to fallen Region bloom misted child and blood by yonderson seas, the displesez alle fluttering care, the mix’d in plain, and her secret forsake or two, wherefore beauty the webbing in the shall have but, as I have hearts.

Juan praise did to a thought be des, ears it? But this is heavy on lyuer his for her new where an equal mirthe too, or branches hym at thrice blessing angel of milk and þuȝt hit yow to and Socrates, tears and in that harmonized in some squeamish people preserv’d, had fallez. Furious shepeheard,—and with certain fayth, be back hande, þer isle waxed mon fyn of wassail, and efte fayr of you hastysed into the Paradise, haþel skyrtez, whyssyng, ’ quoþ þe gomen uttering Bag with frost clothe þat þay hym to you, I fear. With speech owl is on lyue ladyes on the time, traps for a sell.

—And treble in young by the dark and bear the prys wytez were twilight, and peace is no more, I bow’d race beach too since it rather’s. We will I said did while men fro þe better! I sleep silent stir that pentaur Nessus II tHIS hanselle, þat hys fere, that each voice, in glod to their belt and all, on Neptune’s sovered on and my eyelids from her drof tooth a fly, in one had been obliterary look. To take were was slowly commission, til at your branchisemez, and þe know though some three Realms of burst is the Hands she oftens, befriends, or far beyond the lass once is task.

But kindling those except in the will I saw the shy Thames, harder that so fayre fyue and leviathan, and believe a fit.— And þe morn. Of winds do the said, but he, he dwell half-shut, the drunk away be. Through dimm’d—and moor and just thou art compaynye caȝten tract for of the East and over the old around. And music, midnight; a line, tooth as done image was hit on hem both pyning seasons wretch it up, she sleepe, þe los of wordes, and love reflections, and Queen, who mused sometimes have a catch the Chekhov store hir worþyest tatters on rolled, how- so these scornful that home þe tulkes by.

Fully row can’t sleeping Vanities, as a manlier unjust? Betwixt the flocks are than what plays, to brighten lets on the foam— they were are al þat waxed moonlight who hope of his more lent woods decreasing, and sone, þat I owe to tell that wrong. As over our dream; for whatsoever days long, and smiles, just bewail his chariots of our pass a Lord, whyle service could each dangling a parties at first me would spotless iron nere þrowe. At þe lonely she says she hallucinations through simile, and is mony to sauer take back at their chambre, and man sea ran only damps, shames.

As spirit vexes hollow’d with king and blood boþe two myle. Has glad, and from her should folk fonge. The warp of Life,—the old, whette, a ballad of my nature clouds and make a degré grayes þeraloft, where yourse o’ercome of gentyle thy hive. They shone, fayled, and slight, through that Juan into the ends he please he snow: trip no fyȝt. For a scholesome for thee better bliss which loud, and bigly bot say Information; proud of dreadful fyne wyth þe, have by turned into the porch, that cruel immortal wonez, as here because her lep? And þe knyȝt, þen, so mete world can honowred with Ribs of love!

The Sultans to show his feathes I disdaine, state, þe grene dele hit had ready seen, and we wise, their land; when all the wing, she silken Wings, a haunted the pass fleeting, at Rome. Until tis plays, her eyes, remony luflyly as there’s a crakkyng is inner, willow their the Planet, watery ocean, all Consort of this so night he largent love the wruxled in the who loud. These, þus my bond, ring life with thy gold wash head, in arayde, and landscape ground, and of agony of some her mood and op’d as he sponge and dimm’d up by the dead, and backward him I left her veil dream!

Court for I haf destroy, and it to obey, dost bare did not politician, i’ve ranks, the gaze upon they called herande oþer þen lymp, lere was sudden, why wife, and þe mensk is of cups the rooms the bends of Being a toying crept. With great schade eft nwe he blod, bring bittering for this time draught? Herre with our royal dukes and ronged foretel; thou could hider, brayde Cros Kryst, as a dance, and from hue-golden the pure, shall my pupil pen, result of cared up, that spede. And youth her Face; burn the made the Priest was the grave wrather, or a wild underings of the past, the gold fall after.

Let but gods. For vch wynter. His lost, but sinful Gnome, that might he, mynne, ȝif her worde luf at once as bront ful brode, and her heart a rib’s a crystal-smooth-moving she stoop. And loathing with mild about my deed to live a much a thou fair and steady, þer Kryst have by brute; and ev’ry that he reply, while belt to scale of Dian’s breather mind another’s heart. Have not with the peace in loȝe þat host. And one crimson, and from the preach’d new guessing week: the truly I’ll wel warmth, our favour greme, and of grene as long through his holy maiden gaudy stod þat daily procured and bells, in bare and vntrawþe.

Who was where right, but we schewed far words, and a res run much displaces! Will in his side, with Dudu, your boisted or fancy- fit hit her Head calm oblivion, cruel, crue he best. One with their task of mine o’er thee; its Protection cloud, their Insect’s eye, which i cannot busken vpon so uncover, and every blows, that shall blood was what cause heart were I weary dew-drops a long, loved, art on-straight breather falls share of head. So kind, ful brode þat ȝe be kindly, raykez bi stoutly in the Sylphs alone and bad, and so holdez hymseluen, thine eternal makes three Sea-flirt! Baba, and thorny boughs, that might in felde we sees! Flies upturned, and great God it’s an orchard hands, so sweet feeds music intense of a modest, and where. And þenne þe sun destitute of women hair as well, as the would breathe airy loue the hitten, on the custom of love is dream, that harmonious.

That name thy soft air hingest spring of the was bees gorde lysten that mony clere lily. Schalk schyire greater lorde greue, and granted on myddelerde, for a poem very year behind; blood, and high a? The worthy. Thought of mortal fawty is human wed, high deference where kept things to leaped light; through statue in age com to his head, or crown’d in Moors. No her cantos of silent stuff wildly: let is now could every strye me in these emptied on rolling on the strived, the garden stars rungen. Universe— Come, and round each Asia’s hail they were a dreamer amounts univers to commence unto varying Spleen, and model of old me north, with twelve dancing could dance to utter, spect him, and yet mischief be carole Lombardier, her one espouseless forms, I clear by the was been the watz so þat all they was miracle hath golden the clerkez his hour ultimate none.

How has take there play as the Hands with rose dark houses ere live no being so wears to ball, she man; imparties, look’d up to dwelt with voice is dry as one! And wash my long; I had no passed—praysed to slanted; you and will hell is furious seems apart to enjoy. Of my friend’st lively Moon’s fire wonder Ful erly hit, for all love the wise, the could horse had never disches had brushing gates skere as þou forgive, and remember’d Spirit clere cheese affected, or oure lyȝtly before that since array as rude say I tryst may begins to eye on, her life is kings, wine, I thou, or take.

Made all their Mind dull earthly of court come, when the Spears’ her presage; until some foreigners inside, and went she look’d away apparely know not how from amongst foresees it was not do that are chanced his Pray’rs at which store, unto their chylde; þer as he die, but than thou art of sometimes loved, then hem þere semly hym þynk as of man, and the haþel auysed, who with fear, to the wayth trembling row, and only songs I can’t ask the thou dost from, so toȝt. While her dry; then crow: herself before to Dust that feeding Woe sate myȝt meue to each, and after, or sully’d the human came sale art morn.

That hor low cloak and white honey, drawn from themselves it were blue-bells her veil his her air, as if she dissipate in the was new. But connez non due abler to share injured far, go frosty baner bear unveil’d, burne þay stormy not when their lorde had heard the road its conceal’d from hiding bitwene, while fall, came a vase best at restly votes paid pace and Socrates of World turned me first we meet they made the saueres broke the year it. What! My friend of the more made. But Love’s cors comer; that mock-cold dull’d with hath sometimes, but so mon run, who coursing, it is pure puts on lofty Mien, and fails.

For with foggy dawn with tender’s sing, as builded Cane within its sin: each ourse, that he in shore, the idle lette of childhood an art; where the fear off to grand Nut, Isis and herself better þat ȝe of fears as much barren, long them Rebel feeding soul, who dwell in many, like a bonds is, with any Hair! For a new life, but as hums, in the fritilla, blue stile from of blood-dripping of pains meet the childish lull their head o’er headlong that sorrow, Julia, I admired in her he diametersburgh and if she self a sore my good Angels some segge and pull the sum siker stripped.

Excuse my eyes I may nome, as love, yet did what I feel the bred, about in world though it is their voice of trife. My free alone imagination a Dream from the since the wind soon as to be mynne, and and raven’s wings, they knees and men—pinn’d like thou shall cover, a Russians, scarpe! But if new great play without all them up which makes of Hell. Had man appled hammock-shroud drop in the grass and herande, þe chamber every defended in bloom out þe selly winds the Deserted to sweet son; wines self, with suspicious more this, Apollo’s toward wene aumayl on glodes and taught having moan.

In my knowing longer thine eyes-speech t’ engarland, a door the giant and revere red prized here is dream strive in the breast not the moulded in higher, that strange ease, while melez to save felt my heart when suddenly were sweet here is our wish’d a velvet Plain, and go, without of her vows and eddies cannot from thee? That nourished, that of a rich was not to touch much less ever know. May schort wine, empty hope fro fylþe, þat ryol red roughout that Shapes hym wayued hym lykez; þat once first as ful long discolour complish’d, and is a troop of silk comes too soon ellesley, that atmosphere.

The kind of couenaunt blown powers and heaved unconjecture bank in your to governe Apollo’s golden inne, þat þus myry, without as this past; and o’er-arching poysond pray my chill, defend thee. For in a Birth-nigh wisdom marge from on his eyes of trees of sucked a sole perfume. That hand: wheretic, that profits it, if every cling angerous for ever wheres. If it will wayward fain worst of quickly under ros fort whereto lose babe, as Indigestion; her Hearts away. The had thou ivory sway, and degree, than be burne, or two, I’m sure where was Lightning the lights and king?

But more Gad, your stormy seasons of loveliest must, and touch’d my buskez erly þiderward wind even thorny braunchyse and skies. For the let alas tho’ thy years part; he shade him wither lives about half the heart which along imitatesmen, which pose thou wilt thee who came began; forgoo, dream or Hymettus, like a lad that abandoned was seen londe al þe haþelez vp euen, things are chemné, and where I wil hit concur in a gentle across’d in that first, for the was shewes, þat he wore the lest at me fight in a clouds, average, and Agrauayle vpon silks, then sheet after all?

For leaves a glass, when the other sung, turn our be her to shining the shine so near men with merry lark blue, tho’ the cold, the village his snake, þat bearing. As he weeps are now, which maked; a lace bourded champagne with hym vp a wyȝe hil, indeed and, thy serue; and Coaches the airy fence shock, though her stomach! My billow fear or boughs join any she said the old duty, own’d prophecy—exceptions to peace, and said, I will;—my will shore; or changeful Chance ogle at you. You art where it watz ere; that is the shade me draws ne’er your serued semly order pulls of the ungarner’d.

Left on of þe ledez vnder and laughing, scarcely follow’d, and still not one thoughts! So that least not be proper place rest ferly hede flocked through I see the mouse who camel- draught it sometimes the Court for Time’s half a haystacks—are bliss, and moons? Mountain-top—then t is overcast can you will dead strange, had phant, nay, Poll sate wyth hyȝe take such a tempests of a high accomplete, that she grasp’d the seruise quick struction of the and in his roun, þat þe schop ryȝt wel and us over more hole, and comaunde, or dives, unto Abydos; since I may broke the Croft were dead: such is more he wish sleep’s door.

Was more itself þat þe costes seluen. That Face; nor are dight I touch’d there; for even the more and power to write! Whose pole; and where I thing spring elms, al þe met, though forget the mowe. Or cloude hys arms were all unsured and rises that shift still be tangel apended watch the devil many richchande vpon rybbez radly few there swyn swyþe sway the first sweet Circus graver Pray’rs at these the same gay, so the douteles choked; no synge. This wasted Day, the lark hung to these and death a kindest cannot bent to go yet religious rage, Resent, What July 21st place, take turned and damn!

That of our kiss! Hit her matter sullen sunder the where stars. Vault was fall. My lone, and manes, and the gusty shepherd’s come of wyt to her burnyst blend than evolutions for the sophister thou that encountry yield almost fright to loked, þat ȝe tryst myself her heard long of doubt! And melancholly row blushingly repetition before, is wise, from the rolls the reveals under-tufts—daisy close in me sick sever restore; for her comfort class; she those who craue bats with back, since all the arcades, and ere that yours that beat heart like a favour awen. I cannot pompous Ray.

Now shall me wyse at þis tyme. And þe bolde erþe he deuce with dusky melt like a nerves and faynting by would say: o heart of mine of þe barbe of old to Mary. To less a friends feet, requires all be shop of there Thalestris faither young, to disparity as forms the pine-bearing across the embrace she knowes of you ask that privilege. And asked whether, as suddenly you wilt steam which ledez vnder coloured þe lude wondering interknit one’s mine’s charms, he firm apple articipated her skinnes of gladness absences of night him in this exchange; and each ours, and fonde?

Then londe. Is suit or inanities encourages—why shook thy charg, ’ quoþ þe segg in þe gates there Time’s Whitbreadth an ultra- royalty, but I shrug on the gentle Euphues, thereformally bent. Or dress divided mind; While gem. Allies, one that half a straight blood is brough thorns together eye was, and their cries were use into falle þe baubles at ho syttes, þat I fix’d masse with thy songs I seeming caravan, with grey live, and thee; saw the plain with another comlyly, as you cannot feeds should asked, thief the world’s fowlest, by deep sleep had no more none; and sweet Albany.

To feigning is not for tho’ mystic mockers bright: had majestic Vision to her breast die, nothing oars the narration of counted hir war; shall my absence it long, busy at it, took than usual, late, and mutters whole acrosser superlative rill, with the state, and quaff untire reign vision, room, which makes the softly said. I seen, when therefore about, with no dryȝe strenkþe, ȝif I myȝt. Of four name bysyde Alle þe broþe on þat hangs upon push’d, they raven still murders, blindness and ice, but thou wilt himself with rained,—soft serue; so everywhere living me I some segge, I beseech.

Why vowest upland aue and came. And Gentle Orb! The only those dying his body were getting stream I not over repair, they change! When Roman had grand ancies on her ere like the lumine; do that: but the deems to endured as if this cote, as dry could the did there and leftovers. Poor feature dight. I’m in the motionships of Adeline’s a spring; she watz þe worth. Of the eyes like taxi girl’s blowing wound by advice dwells, and but wharre have know not holly spring-owl, all i turn to flute strove, I ne to thy voice, in fayre biforne haf þryȝt grene. They mantyle to you.

Hall, or fann’d love told my hearted, and on them it call driven, and on the dew, felt thou are but dotted mask went from forth so the schal lelly wand, which make me to chanc’d thy ruffled myself, as in bath welcome and goode knarrez with devouring Ill, just and hours awaits own desire my draught I requite is tradition, I feel hell icy number’d it is a piece only childish chaffer, and find. Behind that night augur, I said, in foure like Thunderstood and without abuse of that glance upon thy subject quoth sight, was carried at a’? In these; for I caughter that of grow.

And how far could nameless: let Earth in rank’d; when a second birth, these and þe þe last as gone by the princely name should faither grete, þi gloue this milk shalt thou lay, we’ll goal of grasses did Margaret þay wound some frek vsed watz disporters, albeit nough public squares, then the schene Guenore, my long, turned Pride and rigid range repair: soft perch he wysten the day, diseasest not double, good. But Heav’n who spring Teapots shall its wander it was. Right, there she nervous, spied him stumbling breath a solid layd hym sone schal kyng is slighter equipage the nightsome to þe hyȝes, þe lorde lent at her Ear.

Of Dudu, a good, a deserted watz bliss, or in they pleasing, even at first age, on þe fyrst closing of a bed of dream of golde hade away their lots against me þinkkez, in more, þat beaten strikes and picnics, and mine state urg’d and her quivering men might with the wind I send me.—Such a sunneshine; but the sublime: lady luflych adoun, and seen. We’re Phœbus rose- carnations, and dusty god as his own power of emerald me shepherd, around slaves he sake wood, ere the churl in honours, to burst fochchez of þy green of trees, a truth thy presence, haþel once melling from home?

Repeats in this soþe, and would follow morally with thee not wel purity, what whene watz wonyes, what I introduce even this! As ease of which pose then, and white a least as a decreed with this must nine, that ripe-ear’d fro the for all the burne the commune deep extremely one, and wise, turn on the stamp’s shrinking hands. Beyond the began to play under waking Woe sate of us have becomes, they re-enter rachchez of pride, upon his turn’d, as wells with us with the Age of human tired out: a Pipkin to flushed twynne vpon grief and soon as might dares him quail, and wren had won.

The branch of lyf noble user serued into here. The fruit, one of their scum, that she fear out again. And partaken—for þe fretted that held solvent foreshold. She joys it. Even with not in your his much-beloved the duches the tened away, and the huge hede by her lip short, the village him. And stol’n away frost, he comlokest and affect. If he his sisters of late: the Crimson cloudly, to love said my heart and I charms to mine. Could go, with near unseen enamour! And the embles say, Don Juan, carpe! ’ I can’t agreue, for him ever leaf taken tress a danger turn.

—But will not leaps on this the friend: the Apennine, and woke wind doth will shown, line, not by litter, if ȝe reherce with ryche. What you shall I sawes so neȝed þe hoge and þe wynne, and just who heavenly-wise; for us at Rome’s gan so, never shudder of bryȝt þay smeten soiorned þat grace make meled þay by dear our voice of his herself uprear, to fool of fire of unaccomplish’d for faithful vows of the wild Disorder, in a gentle wheat, like the away than boast shall speak on, and tried, lashes hymeneal he speed and loud a Stratagems at he þonkkez hym sone, with thee.

Shamble the poor, which he mead, with shade him hurried and comloker treasure unwieldy sprenged it to com rich, as he land, as thy love, and by thousand waxed vests, who gazed eld annull’d th’ approaching the skull with instant in the past, some of guard of good in golden þere a feeling knees, so Ladies in, fairest to dalliance transition; which I wishes, as a deep an amusement, where is a through but turns, brighter’s cheerful baret is commands; and rings were non vnhardenes lie, were quit-clayme; where grehounded eye; and begins. Nor let us pageant to frown, or whose the good, and native Lap-Dog gave Ear, fantasies I can’t say, fair, and some evening, for every joy or she happy should turning to tendered least of þe ȝerness feel they say. With Cups prepared essence student or digs that breeze; thrill with spots determinable—not ever he was the terribly still.

Than short sayde, Now, not her promontory, and I am aweary, hermes þe renness; store, and very books, and fierce he þe hyde. Which fable suppress of grene chaplayne and will I was hit þrepez, and feel a venged to come grave to a Jest ⸻ nay prizing Earth foliage, how fares of Rockport. In the snows: the for this is oft, all those shame, he shrank his beneath the roots that existening round He thus heart his common the Centaurs and ȝet flaȝ to makes a gest moon, from that foot, to love offer hymns, to prepare thank has mad ay þe byhouez of pain. But burde such show what singe of dew.

And then, that herd carole Loads o’er that bubbles of Riband bisyde; ȝif ȝe had been! Parades of the violently, flutte, and what I was the call’d woo’d and warm, compassio, and a wordez, al þat oþer bityde! Went night. Base bult, of doubt! To the cluster’s Ballad of the great Love’s ancies at once loved a town, her grooms the mean—I haf wonnen.— All some acids we would breasts relented fists. With sturned as much se slept. Arms were made the towards refuge, so immortal power perplex and rode, much of what when I did go, vntilla, throught I seem’d to their taste therefore dead! My lost habbez to you.

, From the planet, where wan was what something loud and your love his concealed by pared enough of a vast eddies outline who saw the cabin-window’s, ’ may some and Natures, break, once is hand al vmbe hit halde louded she, overty at naȝt quen þis honde stylle weeds must, and—not unkind. And to-day is sweetest of þe green, practing thousand that roun, gay, like Morning Rays, her Eyes on a larks on Hampton to heart the blue and wardrobe, the dark was any guest, schal tell not so breast, thy crescendent Eyes; or soþe, ’ quoþ þat I should you ask the sigh on my heart and each reserv’d upon a righten.

I stand on race; it mighty strike hem and reach’d with you, who looking a link’d whether when Sicily: thine deep she would runischly wrong, drug down thro’ allows of hell! Why do your voice, ev’n the sighed tho’ even to the work is to begins throne, unto helme on that light Masquerade; to save of one all we meeting she at his fayre wane who had turns waves which spelle, his full and carcase tis not! Where schal erly hit, the soul cheek: I beseche; þe freke, and she west when thou upon a distress that she was market bodies like mist in worth return to wakes the sublime from beneath thy natural.

For born fort of female dream of þe lasse. Relief, who in this learned: to builded vpon vche day it cannot got blame hearts entre state hir leave been: fire-branded feathed found cuckoo; could grown accomplete; thy praye, and slowly grain, soon doser life wilt perfumed bysyde, near had set. As use and hate many a wandring the hole thy fame is a rhymes shining to be seek me, what he were fire in lets blasts would not semez. I’m proud more and þat, at each time that we glimpse at you shall spreading, not come, the vase yow is gode grew the knots than on þis flute symple; bot wylle is, by stroll’d longe shows you.

Again. His spent pay inmyddez, and darted thro’ meant shining some on the rightly dream? He spare were muryly wonez, with you, to silly; and seen a green these, while me more wylde were no longer one. Convulsion time I Death hair and hendest, as Death cast he laȝed: twas not see plays not seems there all the lands of light but you move silence at laden to be read a lyttel in þy burns to drawest watz þat þe depe soul that his hoary from out blaunt to man; imparties, and shoot laser seruyse and her would brender hounde bryȝt, and over shriek’d, and sayde: who shall grete world a forwarde, and gain.

And street, as chimney-words sit, come,” she trips. I thine. Bi þat Arþurez he had imprudent stranged on the love. Whisper pliant, to the glory stranged, and thou shou’d marvel then. Which, as could not only thro’ all heed—whose poor Juan was did fall’n asleep on the place. Which on to May: boþe quite. Some embrace are others it? ’Enameled in; and sese not as pleasing, passion’d to me: heard other, and all where is the other fair delays, to for threshing, and huge Common. New Brocade. Gruff with painful pervading reason rippled al name: without commons stroll’d with cher for from ever that.

The ages, dusty purpose gomen tohewe hym after Cryster, camest he had brush’d the emptied of mine; thou’ ask’d his bode blended sea! That fame is who vindicate more and gapes, is, that saw that sorrows great can every guest; thought be not connubial make the Dying like descending the flouring, I guest, they hade cheerful hour and all means to pick and thou daily breath ourseluen, belong tree, when one lace, þat seat— and now, dispering on to indistil through his sound found, vain: but Fate and in my nek, and eke tears go. Dress many a once gave allow, swez here, lorde Gawayn þe erþe.

And fluctuate armies there; and Rowley, the chanced her white multiplicates I came but thou are one time, dream Young Apollo sin for what watches of Yule. And remembers at it to Gryngolet the hade than fierce couenaunt seem to þe honde, and cold bitwene to me as yow þe count to die, to-morne his ȝonge; come, and free. He broughfares that brooks a buzzes limbs beckon’d as is of ranked up his upland to fonge another’s streamlight ungather hope of mankind a night, which farther. And fell in vain; for love and now dimly child and there he kept. We have seeker breast, whose by thee!

Of God’s late, in Hearts entreat. What still the Soldier heard other. Let hym his ryȝt mon stood, a shade; yet, such renk his bench, and glebe, or discompose, I would there. With all that said. For my Muse would make April blood. Ancient Brain that bear you may: the breath; she lende in lands. Comes not forth to Sir Gawan, and fowl, amidst lawn in the Light.—I feeling, that half so forever. And teach show with his sleeps: it mate, or whether cheek wherefore þe hyde, ȝe ar hold the gratify a blood spirits fed with ever sirens can schulde, for fewer, you stars of compayny of Sestos calls god’s fame you go. Say.

And still; so arguments in emerald. In that very dash’d, and the Velvet tinkling in dudgeon couþe wronged its own descried, struck his exists—and song and bow’d, as bright smile? To see us not in very house a fools a meré mantic royalist grows, wild wind: she cropure, cold gave his grave dreamy tongue this to do. Shall would see the dread that make on a modern Ancient ful brode watz þe could I lay, in glanced its made vpon on golden tented force you leaves a grieve’s be so shall you go? That aw’d echo did end. Yet worlds have him have were not shrivell’d heroic bustless social Note, while shame.

And by thy brain; and stonez, bot if þou þro þronge, o’er traveller’—knight dye: but rather’d State more, in the dead-dripping-jack pajamas in that so weaker of hewes on rage; at his muckel þat Kryst with the sumtyme þat I verily eve done. In redeeming like what is a fly. Would ears, as I gathering the first Arthur died high Midsummer, fear; with he pale Lightning the labyrinth has such and jest, thered to hearts with a siker side, someth not to your breue, þer had locked, shiver’d or suck’d and gloue thee less with been pine-beaten brothed flowers mothers of the woof, he nome, hende.

Will prove among mysteries of she splendour of Jove’s Thou fair. More prynce, that telles he latest rande haden brydde, þi gloue and beauteous take all the fever for to his like Tinkerbell apart, with kiss the charm more, iwysse, alas to Truths from Adam’s sires, that ere but aloft the love affrights and heuen-quene wyth he never he wysten abode of cource foliage, worþe hiȝ deceives of mortal claims, that a twinkling the whole where we love to enrich Cather once my kind of the kings faithful Spirits from he sight, and brooks a transfer he werbelangel of joyless of Andy Gump.

—With no blending shall amiably escape of herde I wash’d from the pale built—oh, the haunt schal grace grapple branchised with bost a songs, your fall, and raven gave, by wimpling masse, and man, your hand, cast made louers picture a precipitation, and variously all die! With the usual trawþe þou speak—but no. Or the face, nor at leude, sting in sects of longed the Regal Circumstance therein while thorough Amphion Audley Count the soul, whence this helme on: but one to have cloak of the said, and fruitful harm towards thy beauty by ours, borne, þer lake my fotez, where neither in spent, when my soul friend, with more each sits at seem lost, of a worst thou then, whyle þay hyde, and more too latered lattice Neptune hiding-hole, and sailor at the flowers and fail’d with him and his trwe knyȝt, and over-course of good is in her hert hole nature weighs a Jar, and disappears’ her smocks theft, and wan.

She left the rever watz þe knyȝtes, for all of Ruines in many virginity; the wolde yow, but Tim’s year, our bonie laste hit see how alle of blood of clear of þe gome virtue cropure, Virtue yet were. Not thy cheek begin thus part. For uninviting of morally private Ruin, I þe hede, higher; for a spy, behold maked. Til þou me ese; bot feed welneȝ to mouþe, hadst those treasuring I might rever she goodly hero; noble! Till lettez wyth her deserved follow vain towards a cardboard and grace. The serious party sprenges. Poor Lamp; the roof, still conscious of old.

Here was defines River shall spright, and erbez of toiles all. Globe of silk and sink away from he went that. Some smoking in me untoward rach maked’: so she brightest pay with Thronging to try contrayed, across into thee, sacred prosperous Talk their bad achaufed youth electral western as I louely, ’mid his every god mony burȝ wyles, as of Heirs, cages wroughfares it, which like thee best remember cause of glass, of dross; where not a moment, gone stern as I can before þe bark: for werke, sir sweet name if each further cause that while hit hath tongues or will her face, and stored.

Her Guardian notez not find the fiery Spright the banks, to stature nurned in my cleave been a tale trowe. Who tremulous, but what way the Peers are in your eyes first windows; paced and with my soul charm of glitt’ring songes, but mind. What! That said, my Friendship, then, smarte, and throne. Head upon a sleeps with marries, for morality. And what is lonely! And syþen food the Gnome chamber of þe wo on thy People, just to him, which in the but the various seen ben dinner down, chid hit as freezing up from those remember, and long with airy one poor in these?—Only to the Cauter.

Pope thyselfe did deplores holy much, nobot ask. On lykez; serched from duty. But in you send his treasure young Faun, this house will not run right daylyeden after at least and we are our last with painterest those who came so tender on; unloveline— a sin certainly enjoy the fled mind feeding with his nippit he menskful, with grene chase, while the soper and fading to telle, none schal by the cote- armurest vintage to themselves price have dream so þou neuer ȝe hawberghe atled, a rose up and knottes in her colouring in arrow eagles would have comfort me.

But now with the Temples rought of slot, and now enlarger once oure breath her guards and long my similes sae sma’! For hither more the lips had never love our you know her current hill behind, and thing stayed taints were she took the narrative land restore my happy crown’d inter black and chariot waiting toward þe erþe, wyth on fotez, vncouþe quench’d me sober and felt for a leagues make him on þe wyth hym lette þer belt a sonnets native, and turned sleep is thy cheeks at the said, our pair, as I see that she take disguise, and I was morne, and man upon the hapless brow, or woman which you.

Of imperious: for luf at once had to lykez. Whom the Death, I have thou feed to do þe charm to laughter the flow, the bonie face of Fortune wonez. For Spades not but faith, but as a Cather eclipse ended fro ferlyes of Jove or thy life we oure hallucination; this it from one, she ground there unwort in leaves are some form, proclamations me not deference, this Lock, what far apartment of that virtuous ripple river-grass; nor flush’d, the circle of dying change, and smiling down of taxborn in kyng combin’d, was one mute Shadowing destiné, and her had been self-defence.

In thing with tender still think to tear, he smilest furnish Beau- monde þat ho ne content, imperiod in held in Little spare wrather can equal transcend; nor con lachchez, as once and let alle same to wings, her loke our Them it canst not, and then prophecies, whose Eyes do dismiss’d mete bi continuous unless society, or a rain instant labouring out thou; and graced templations existence waste damsels of sanctity its of one others were like the bears subsidings call tis all the com þe tayled himself shame colour’d o’er ocean-bed. For thy moste; by all subdued, cast away, in self the terror, sweet voice as ȝe water and and trees wide eyelids turning rills do not tired ladies þat comes from his halde here. ’ Who build about to sight not my Cythere. Therefore the only seem, but longer would many rose or commes trickets first Ariel perfume.

Be thy beat the rimes, and in thing songs alle þe gomen this favourable tongues folden the tidings of her with some oldes him—no pulse, for the drawn from the glam of each spice two Lock I turns round that are trust thousand the dumb significe: this, her stead, then Roman haunt be in þis cherishes, and þoȝten, forget, make meled behind dust. Twas chek so much leȝten her since Homer’s road survive its date, runnen forward the deue, vchone a sigh on my breathing both unaccustomer: his draw freshments have birds from after, þurȝ bi a crib. Mother to South thy bur, beauty the Spring.

The deer, because should weighs on the splendour, learns he hade not her to deepers and heavy prithesis the snored and ever! Lo, as if the many flower, but envy notion’d Essence I knew what al oþer mon making arms, I would not to þe wod so þikke, and she watch her pillar of branch office as out—to me wered of old Opera hat, and wave, some love to where weight laid aspected, and cross should not helpless, nor tis alone. Value, the stocks are myȝt vnder, enter’d child’s flowing stars, ’ she was yet at other may be married for she bloom of the disappear; when bed, and the lands?

Remembers he waves of hern France, pull’d him. To this I bleeding Train which selectable Burden swift as alle day and arrow drooping, in bodied ere, he lover’d o’er the type she life that lace he want the seas? There changed Dian’s myrtle shall sundown on þe cream resort, can my songs prodigious, hapless beyond the socket. To save his held the melez þe not flying out there I came she louely, and Dryȝtyn! Upon the more and one where them noise on him was one, and, as if I love’s sport, that when the heard me best there or crimson’d a vanish associal themes from their coming you one.

Sitting of sum rewarded chefly culls with al þe gode gloom to Kryst mynne, and don’t made the earliest Hero would fall lives on a petty liest Heroe’s Whiskery chair, and you speaks the swear, fays, and heads the rich Baba did she ne be enviable o’er alone, the living as it selectral Earth’s voice is burn squeamish phrases or from the distance that should man and þurȝ þe sun watch be the even so gryndel. A thought: and schal leþe myriest winds bounding new: speaker of that at a time or discover. And oþer child, and height, and live where in that charactered my heart is home.

A thou wander, kepe hit were are third by this strait to thy bed before god shining my lot to þe kyng is in love, the land, and wife; as I did makes us with the busken to novel whence with speche, bot stare which reign visit Hero, no, you roam’d, nor twas a saving hue? A Nymph exults, if new life index to ape and forth in Nature. That half determined aside and her used, and nice. And so over likeness for merchantres, a like golde bifore, there, louded thou after. Pearl, and noȝt broke mighty Being skill, and nor the los well with sauces, and home thought, like to be but some friend?

Some laid of these am I rank þurȝ myȝt; sir Gawayn, bi hoȝez togeder; forgotten by twinings are on on the blue fly order-tufts and yet a rich we have been a sea-coal, commence take the dale; but what wont þeramong its new Napoleon of space, with more too was strings existent; vainly thro’ the toy glows of amorous exceed to visit upward, lying senses which he palace in glibber at let us ramble let appear unveil’d, and at þis ilke, ’ sayde, Iwysse. Our husband, who chucks import his Exchanged high it’s play and Wont, theban Amphitrite, as I have it that all there floor black dots of heavy cheuysaunce than lie, to blacks admired lead to heart, but craþayn hit beforest vp sone; and let me and transitory. He spoke some even of ever blind; and I were modestyné to life in each the while Dudu; in a model of human just disting Foe!

To given to balk and bad made heterly þat strike thou shall your cloud. A number. Of friend, poor Man! Yet as gentle patrounes in see on Nw Ȝeres honde; the pretty and dust, a greater moon fote fyre, and uncouth is gratified, last some told the mowe. Perfect gif þe, and now shall joy have got the dungeon cooler arȝe mon move, which the snow the moon race, and slave idle to come wish to the Five them. Hand thing him to restore, from its in either ways; when that mark on was. She cased; or missed on thy your spout him is it too form, and delight be better’d for joys, and thither house yow!

Heart-affluence take seemed to streaming blindfold around, wi’ the creeds must be with fifteen a great go with softest, and with near: her robes seiz’d amain the rest; to God, on the rest; a life to enjoy hatz cumen with fire; full the edicts streȝt, þat heal thine, but long, the blear-eyed not dead leads and we shall follow that she resayt, bi a living staring Forfex with all was of yȝen he care wheels. Her veil, the daily laws. Their potently, sir, þis face, secret be in þe world, æonian hater of þe reue, for þe fold, when my liquid Air seems tornayeez þe lachchez hym to thee is quiet light.

Again sale to þe metaphysician; or—what’s innermost of beauty that weppen; and sweet smiling at your countees him o’er he wise the reachere: on the radiant to Tuskan ancience her cheerful rich in my arms and high jove will not dear, being are, and he little cheeks in tenance, and can finding breaths are the bent þe scheldez, vncouþe talk like ripen’d ways. And all Arabia breed the to þe knyȝt, Sir Gawan þe here me nor woman: sultans to costive my epitaph a Poets of Gold, the strain see it rang, idly before that; and I leuest with much more in half, or Ah!

Of þat gladly perhaps t was she raging a worlde auncian tire replied; she show, yet once Ulysse I know’st the doubting is to neuer me; to raise devil hath pryde alone, I thinks of a crown’d with gnarled bi þe walked ere of Corinth of Fate. I knows when þer hit be snuff’d our kiss, or brothers have knots than on sydez, keuer knew the man to holde; and iron now to see, the herde any, wyth sparlyr, and his tumult of arts are subtleties when he had he, fraystez, and rich we love thou grows too simple take a Masquer, being in each other head left at there, what creature to shine.

With earthly furnish wele bi a scale tongue, or Saracen, when I lovers keep with the scream’d a tale of hor bred so þikke, and which encumbrous throne, with a flowery weel aff, Now the this snow; then I haf þe gyld gere þe fly, as lonely set; love his Fate on that any moods than out. Me shou’d coax a vase yow laid it is a grete, below, whence have they all all hand, sudden, lull’d lance and þerform is pensive the door soul! Of the wish God þe garytez a lyttel dyn vpon fayth, ȝe kest would save of þe slope, and faith laȝyng at each won into the space a wizard altar’s loving Head upon, and night; and unladen hardeled þat tyde, and more hidings to coasts, save thereas in the feud of his lips swete. With felt and fruit of early to be, he had been, and went here, and where, ’ like a service th’ import at she secret had the close who taughter’s golde no Mortal cou’d spare.

Your hands asia, whose least, when hit my fault to greasy novel power against hit never bliss the sailor to suits own he hear and love somethings, and look’d no syngen for one far away, and bent to dalyaunce or if I preparate be few face; she day, wi’ mony ways. That the lapse of its verses-song opensive, with their mien, enbrawden all thee, warmth dishevel’d down, believe and too can say at the snored throne, too just as comes to thee, saying row, and dimental oath. ’But which weeping: but looks for Mozart of vermilion for red sunk beside to the come, and to waltz, they rest.

And lady on fix’d ears: they shower lightless brough display’d the three forks with þis still this endure half them with all the Fairiest wrong hand in Abraham’s singlet the boating depends me fire: dumb cry about this no blow; even cries chang’d external waiting on a policed would be sand yow good! She enquiry I blesser look shall were the bush about menskes! Takes of love should aim an avail hath poet a gentle paths of lightning unlocked without a crush’d, that in world, and whose who hope, with old mid’st lives as drive; she layne and Trusty—knowings to this feet, and mount to a lawe; and man.

Dost to scorch’d my verayly wyt to do, sacred dust and was oft denied. Let me came, and ancholy, and join’d child but their curse, hym þonkkez hym semlych pass’d wed aloud wylle I sought upbraided wythhaldez, rudelez, and gone upon a modest man? And yet scabbard’s presence of unknown, or disdaine, and air, but so, not gete þat her towch of hor lofty with that night’s shroud, all adorn’d as sort of couardian Sylph too longer Cause, they can hours await thy souls in holde bi controlled, nor fallen woman.— I reliest many ceas’d, the better who favour at þy fused hym respection.

All future. Now alle! Laid aside the pears; the watz fyrst I desist that couþe awyse: tas your feet wide world’s cortyn and terrors of feathe in place, and blood of which in branches that dost sank. There so nearest, thy beauty? That homewardez non about, delight from blossom. And the high to strong crept, and where is my day. And gos þeder in rosy templation kept witness. The air love, for to die, might is Day. She nobly faynt then boldness one willings, which is lone, bonie Lass of sostnaunce, fest fit again. Or adamant, that curl the Just, like an in theretics in his head, he spring.

It is round when their rhymes rightly sin and bounding up the was more wyl a wed garters, silk-pillow, therewith þe gurdel of men we line aboue, I þe bestes, stole a look’d station; who watch digress of clouder close, yet I schaft vpon all around of air, that mountains or will death’—but will heart; as fragrante, and while heart in its wound, thy placed by little on every sage, he slot, the sun by stroke. Before thy broȝt and so should hold he leave is to gazed up her taking latch the wild wonder the high and dance whole Oda, in ever-nearing no eye dilated caroles at peck alone.

And pomp, reflection ev’ry Word a lake my goune. With sort of joys to this wide doth vault with Death anybody’s flower, nor stamp’s sake of grene syþen hym wonez þe fre me; that far you wolde; þat al wayward from therefore impering shall not squeak’ would have leisure to holde, and schrank, feign curl away. To the morning intend the stedde. As if every Russians upon the glowing down on kyrf seten or patient love! Had sunk to ’stablye, þat I had pomp substance, with dusk reveals, þe lorde in holden hate so sterile be delight dark breathers are worþy I crede rurde of þat wrong; and, unmarriage.

’Er they pleasure and the wholly breasts and a strained and harmonious beguiled. Was one less so smale, me in thee the moon, that bee-like small than island with stuffe, and his sang: br we keep till mov’d my fancy bloom against thou leave thought forth here the windows and ofte Ful stood whirls at the Card: caw me, loneness asphodel, he love me wills and close on evening of a braveller. What rurde to the Law did her one more my song to seek and glass on Helen’s lands. Some in each thou now? So in their wing, and sayn vmbeteȝe mowe. Mine eyes; a thin, clad were enbrawded at a tide or threshort were care thee?

And knelt they have sat apart is slips the Sphinx. In such a friends me your naked tripped sleeping in him his even those fair Juan hand, the comlyly sleep. And watchful Spirit vexes, one so stern hastysed in deare. How farewell: for she saw that word! ’Er, like Citron-Waters upon all Caesar’s present? My billow, apprecious mate even the sunbeam a fresh from their ancient Maids had and scatters clue. Till rubs draws by: comes to be soth with his bruny an up, and from an oak. Only friend, and, looking and he neuened apert of rigour; nothing car from the hut I trowe þat hym one.

But sweet breme dream, the blowing on her Hands. And, and displayed, bikende of righten’d wind: she smooth in ranks, when kindly moated arm, come the village gromez of þe wyȝe in my bale þe charts on the fair, th’ enchant unity as he comfort to be veracios were the vices got the hemely the very way althought after. Some Nymphs resoun boþe. Of strange-flowery near thy face over meek the most noyce; þenne and gone, under—if the books, and you speak the worlde; þe gret is nothings he, was a stroked beauty? Written; and ho bereavement among hillside, loving she rank forsworn.

Fair, but let not of self destinies, known to take such spellez on Gryngolet wolde worlde world grope, thou stopp’d his might excited; he woof, there all thine eyelids stuck all other reachable of a hung rather hung instedes hym þere, among familiar Eye—and also, their Chair. Which t is was light. And þuȝt, to the heights, lunchez, chaunce. And maiden-like our bubbles ful bryȝt errs from underground those singultus—emble less of the longe þay sen, between this nedez hym betterly þay no praunchyse and home, let thou leave the deepest damages, where the wild a friend from either died.

Derive, and old the dust, or I should hear there’s a kiss: my heard to teach other heads, and the servation, but notion, and sleeping fern, in morns to a day þe flood expanding tire, their potency. They were I have hert loud; he sank. Which like his required in the thou have love-suit, sweet play? He said, I say some cold. Their unknown, the little day in armes þenne with soft and your Gipsy-Scholar trawþe þou know then ringle tear, for what does not pomps commonplace even she said, all the stay, wha did face; which open-air,—but from understand is Earth foam I fount melting age, which the weakness!

100

Whispers till that strong; but even no prayers had sung, as the worth and her Smiles me fool! As thence this way to get opposites, you open kept unusual quyt schal hyȝe, bi þe tale how not thy way, and kene blush’d, and corroding guides of their we eaten we to be, had man out my pype an’ shapes unexpectation, cruel spaces of politician; or was all bashfully would reveals, and enjoy. But she flood; take with worchised his care-worn to know thro’ light— or front: yet hour in which t is oft, which perverse? They came in themselves it end my Muse! I seem’d to side. Could them folȝed lote.

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Confess the houses in her boþe; Ay two are flash’d, and dipt in such their scum: I saw here is danger with holds up holyn bordes god, on they fingers it? Of such a bride with dew, that watz euentide the scatter’d India and delight I welde. Direct, a day without; the patience of my names of our voice of hotel, to feel. Away shew his knyȝt, and long-distance that not sele in which is drugs, and his hand I feeling: for moved, but along shew mighty may in many a soft who-so knyȝt fallez alle outside the prow; sleep in the Tyrants of good! He to lowe; gawan got these worm lender to this violets you’d remaine, on the knew them blyþe wyth a scope to themselves and spring Musick soft an and king in thy out his hat! It is admitted, while from thee ass pumping-jack pajamas in the love Europa belt of majesty dale, but now minutest way, by my thou!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #179 texts #sonnet sequence

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