#JUSTICE FOR JACKAL BOY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

archiesoniconline · 2 years ago

Text

Sonic Universe Online #52 Behind The Scenes!

Hello, everyone! Boy, it’s been a while since we’ve done one of these, huh? But considering we finally managed to release this issue after its nightmarish production cycle, we decided that it was a good time to bring the “behind the scenes�� posts back. There’s a lot to talk about with this one, so get ready for a real doozy!

As usual, let’s start with the cover. We wanted to have Bunnie and Scarlett as the focus, and RocketPOW! went through several drafts of what that would look like. In the end, we settled on having them playing cards in the bar from Sonic Mania’s Mirage Saloon Zone to fit with the desert theme. It’s also worth noting that we had Jack on the cover at one point but ultimately decided against it, since the story focuses more on his lackeys than himself.

Before we start on the actual story, I guess we should begin with the elephant in the room: Bunnie’s redesign. Even though we technically first saw her new look in issue 51, we might as well go over it now. Picking up from where the official comic left off, we knew that Bunnie had a redesign after being legionized, but the reboot happened before we ever got to see it. And with the redesign of such an important character, obviously there was a lot of pressure to do her justice. There was some old concept art by Tracy Yardley of legionnaire Bunnie, but we didn’t want to just take that and call it a day. We had quite a field day with many of our talented artists coming up with their own interpretations of her redesign, including @miitoons, @riggo-draws, @drawloverlala, @fritzymagpies, Tim Campbell, CrimDa, DoNotDelete, and more that I sadly can’t remember anymore. From the shape and function of her cybernetics, her overall color scheme, her clothing, her hairstyle, her weapons, etc., every last detail was meticulously gone over until we arrived at the final design taking what we liked most from each of them.

At first, we had gotten Tale to draw out the first several pages, and even though they were finished, he unfortunately had to step out of the issue and we had Gilgalad take over, better known as Thomas Rothlisberger, who we were lucky to have on the team before he moved on to the IDW Sonic comics. For the sake of consistency (lol), we unfortunately had to scrap Tale’s pages so he could redo those as well.

Holly’s sickness isn’t elaborated on in the actual story, but the gist is that she’s a snow leapord who was roboticized during the First Robotnik War. But after the Bem deroboticized her while she was in the desert, her body became sick due to being stuck in the inhospitable environment, which is an example of how misplaced many of the former Robians were being sent far out of their natural habitats, and losing the protection of their robot bodies was actually a detriment.

A Sonic fan with a good eye for detail may notice that the guard who takes over watching Bunnie after Scarlett is actually one of the unnamed members of Infinite’s Jackal Squad from the Sonic Forces prequel comic. Since this cameo may or may not go anywhere in regards to Infinite in ASO, we opted against using Infinite himself since he’s too important of a character to pass off as a mere cameo. If you want this plot thread to be expanded upon, let us know!

Since this is where we introduce Holly and her relationship with Scarlett, it’s as good a time as any to discuss the process of their creation. With Scarlett, we wanted to introduce a character who would serve as a foil to Bunnie, another person struggling due to their bedridden lover, but with diametrically-opposed views regarding cybernetics. Her design was actually taken from a random Sand Blaster who appeared in a single panel of StH #218, who we decided to turn into a full-fledged character. Although her species was unknown during her single appearance, we decided to make her a fennec fox. On the other hand, Holly was an entirely new design that we came up with for the story. The LGBT aspect of their relationship was actually the idea of my editor for the issue, The Shadow Imperator. I stated in the interview after the issue that I was the one who came up with their names, but that’s not the whole truth. There was a whole team effort dedicated to naming the two of them, before I suggested Scarlett since there was an abandoned plot point about how Bunnie’s true name was at one point planned to be Scarlett O’Hare. Our Scarlett’s full name is Scarlett O’Fenn, with ShadImp being the one to suggest adding the last name as well. But since her last name didn’t come up in the story, I apologize for forgetting to mention it. Holly was also one of several names I came up with, which was agreed on due to the sort of “snowy” feel it has to it.

In my initial draft for Scarlett and Holly’s conversation, I wrote Holly as being more openly pessimistic about her condition, outright stating that Scarlett would be better off if she was gone. But since that seemed rather inconsiderate to Scarlett’s feelings, ShadImp suggested that I tone it down a little and have her only mention feeling like a burden. He was also the one to suggest that I make sure their romantic relationship is mentioned as explicitly as possible, so there would be no room for ambiguity that might lessen the impact of their sexual orientation.

Scarlett taking off her hat here wasn’t actually in the script I wrote, but it was a smart move by Gilgalad, showing her letting her guard down around the one person she can afford to do so with. To put it simply, Scarlett offers Holly physical support while Holly offers Scarlett emotional support, so neither one is one-sidedly supporting the other. This scene also demonstrates that even though Scarlett is easily the most level-headed and compassionate Sand Blaster we’ve seen so far, some of the old bigotries and prejudice against cyborgs and robots that Jack instilled into her still remain.

Gilgalad had actually already penciled out the next couple pages, but since he wasn’t able to stick around for the full story, we decided that that the end of Scarlett and Holly’s scene was a good cutoff point for the drastic shift in art style. Red Rabbit is an amazing artist with a style very similar to Patrick Spaziante, but it is still a jarring shift compared to most other artists on the project. I had also originally written Bunnie mentioning not being very good at undercover missions, but when ShadImp brought up her successful operation tricking Battle Lord Kukku I changed the script to have her mention that instead.

At first, I was planning for the poker scene to have the characters holding cards that reflected their position in the conversation, such as holding a winning hand when they have the upper hand in the argument. But since I have absolutely no knowledge or experience with poker, that idea ultimately didn’t come through in the final story. This scene also serves to flesh out the Sand Blasters and show that none of them are blindly loyal to Jack. Tex obviously has his own agenda, Avery just goes along with whatever’s the least troublesome, Shift wants to get his hands on new technology, and Jolt does genuinely want the city to open up to the rest of the world.

You may have noticed that instead of rocket feet like her old design, Bunnie now flies with a removable jet pack on her back. If you’re wondering how that wouldn’t burn her tail off, it was specifically designed so that the fire trails would shoot aiming away from her tail.

Originally, during the car chase sequence Bunnie’s jet pack was just written to malfunction for no real reason. But eventually, I decided to give it a more interesting explanation by adding in hints that Shift may have intentionally sabotaged it to trip up Bunnie, only to reveal that he was actually trying to fix it and he didn’t betray her after all. This was also the portion of the story where Ink Pants took over for pencils, and then Lav after him. Even though they’re all fine artists in their own right, hopefully this will be the last time that we need to include so many drastic changes in art style to illustrate a single story.

We almost had one more shift in art style, with @gendeerfluid penciling the last page. In the end, Lav managed to finish that one as well, giving us a massive cliffhanger both figuratively and literally in the form of Jun Kun, the Iron King.

That’s about it for this one, folks! Thanks for sticking with us all this time, and look forward to the conclusion of this story next issue. Until then, keep on juicin’!

#archie sonic online #sonic universe online #issue 52 #behind the scenes #bunnie rabbot #bunnie d'coolette #scarlett o'fenn #holly #sand blast city #jack rabbit #avery #tex #shift e wolf #jolt the roadrunner #lgbt #poker #escape #jun kun

81 notes · View notes

jules-has-notes · 5 months ago

Text

Queen in 5 Minutes — VoicePlay music video

youtube

The late, great Freddie Mercury is often quoted as having said, "Do anything you want with my music, but never make me boring." VoicePlay certainly took that sentiment to heart for this medley of memorable Queen songs, as well as the dramatic visual tale they made to go along with it. A battle for Earl's (after)life plays out in a suitably theatrical setting. Who will win?

Details:

title: Queen in 5 Minutes

original songs / performers: all songs by Queen — "Bohemian Rhapsody"; [0:32] "Play The Game"; [0:54] "Somebody To Love"; [1:20] "We Are The Champions"; [2:20] "Another One Bites The Dust"; [2:37] "We Will Rock You"; [2:45] "Under Pressure" with David Bowie; [2:52] "I Want to Break Free"; [3:14] "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy"; [3:32] "Play the Game" reprise; [3:48] "Bohemian Rhapsody" reprise; [4:16] "Radio Ga Ga"; [4:21] "The Show Must Go On"; [4:45] "Don't Stop Me Now"

written by: "Bohemian Rhapsody", "Play The Game", "Somebody To Love", & "We Are The Champions" by Freddie Mercury; "Another One Bites The Dust" by John Deacon; "We Will Rock You" by Brian May; "Under Pressure" by Queen & David Bowie; "I Want to Break Free" by John Deacon; "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy" by Freddie Mercury; "Radio Ga Ga" by Roger Taylor; "The Show Must Go On" by Brian May; "Don't Stop Me Now" by Freddie Mercury

arranged by: Layne Stein & Eli Jacobson

release date: 23 November 2018

My favorite bits:

recreating that iconic Bohemian Rhapsody intro

J.None's fantastic control, flipping between chest and head voice as he extracts Earl's heart 🫀 ⚖️

that smooth scoop from Earl on ⇗ ♫ "take a loooOOOK" ♫ ⇗

Geoff going full Chris Cornell at the start of "We Are the Champions" before dropping back into the underworld

J.None shoving the sword into Layne's hands to get him more involved as he sings about ♫ "fighting til the end" ♫

Eli's busting out that rock grit for "We Will Rock You"

Layne beatboxing the iconic stomp-stomp-clap rhythm rather than breaking viewers' immersion in the scene

Earl repelling everyone through the power of belting

the dismissive face Geoff makes at Eli as he continues the "Under Pressure" bass line into "I Want to Break Free" (a more serious take on the "Ice Ice Baby" bit from their "Old School Rap" medley)

Earl's plaintive vulnerability during "Lover Boy" solidifying into defiance for the return to "Bohemian Rhapsody"

the backing vocals pleading with Earl to ♫ "play the game" ♫ so they can guide him onward

ramping up into full concert mode as they form a line at the front of their "stage"

high tenor air guitar! 🎸

Eli and J's subtle counterpoint line from "Radio Ga Ga"

using "The Show Must Go On" to signal Earl's decision to return to the world of the living

Trivia:

○ The man in the hospital framing scenes is Earl's husband, Nick. He has appeared on screen in a few VoicePlay videos, as well as doing production work on many more.

○ The four avatars of death come from various religious traditions:

Guardian (Layne) is an anthropomorphized version of Cerberus from Greek mythology, the multi-headed hound (hence the fur coat) who protects the gates of Hades.

Anubis (J.None) is the guardian of the dead and assessor of souls in the Egyptian pantheon, often depicted as a jackal.

Yama Nirvana (Eli) represents the Hindu god Yama, responsible for death, justice, and punishment of sinners in the afterlife.

Baron (Geoff) is an interpretation of the spirit Baron Samedi, master of the dead and resurrection in Haitian Vodou.

○ The guys' distinctive makeup and wardrobe were designed by artist Leon King. Of the four, J.None's costume changed the most from concept to execution, but each of them was tweaked a bit.

○ Leon also drew the central pendant element for the cover art.

○ The YouTube description includes the inscription, "We humbly dedicate this video to the music and memory of Freddie Mercury. The show must go on."

○ Some fans have embraced a headcanon that this video is a sequel to "Panic! in 4 Minutes". They theorize that Earl is in the hopital because he was injured by the explosion, and the avatars of death are manifesting as his bandmates within his unconscious mind. This hasn't been confirmed or denied by any members of VoicePlay, but it's a fun idea.

○ This video reached a million views on YouTube the following August.

○ The streaming audio version is split into two parts, "The Arrival" and "The Return", with the divide falling between "I Want To Break Free" and "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy".

○ The complete track was later included on VoicePlay's "Citrus" album, which compiled most of the songs they recorded from 2017-19. Because the individual songs had already been made available digitally, that album is exclusively a physical item that can only be purchased at live shows or through their website.

#VoicePlay #music video #a cappella #music medley #music #video #album: Citrus

6 notes · View notes

jackals-ships · 6 months ago

Text

also the abject hilarity of anders trying to hide justice from everyone at first. and warden jackal showing up like WHERES MY BOYS !! WHERES MY SPECIAL BOYS !!!

#jackals barks #justice hijacking anders body: youre ruining my tough guy persona >:/#jackal: whos my good kitty :3?#justice And anders: meeeee 🥰🥰🥰🥰

4 notes · View notes

nem0c · 2 years ago

Text

Han-headed Cathay saw it first, Bright as brightest solar burst; Whipped it into boy and girl, The blinding spiral-sliced swirl: Yang and Yin

Hegel saw it, saw it clear; Jackal Marx drew near, drew near: O’er his shoulder saw it plain, Turned it upside down again: Yang and Yin

Justice, tip your sightless scales; One pan rises, one pan fails Add to A and B grows less; A’s B’s partner nonetheless

Next the twoness that there be In even electricity Chart the current as it’s found: Sine the hot lead, line the ground The wild sine dances, soars and falls But only to figures the zero calls

Sine waves, scales, all things that be Share a reciprocity Male and Female, Light and Dark: Name the numbers of Noah’s ark Yang and Yin

Poem? Drinking song? on Dialectic, Frederik Pohl, The Midas Plague

#frederik pohl #the simple rhyming couplets make me think of incantations in a shakespeare play

4 notes · View notes

spoilertv · 4 months ago

Text

#SpoilerTV

0 notes

pieterhb · 4 months ago

Photo

Masked Murderers #1 - The Black Panther Series - Book 1 (Complete Story) (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1468910977-masked-murderers-1-the-black-panther-series-book-1?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=Pieterhb Leon, a young boy, had to grow up quickly, mastering survival skills in the harsh wilderness. By the age of fourteen, he was already an expert with a bow and arrow, hunting jackals and leopards with ease. As the only child of his parents, he found solace and amusement in the fields, where his hands became adept at taming young oxen. His life took a tragic turn when his mother died just before the First War of Freedom, during which the Basothos attacked several remote farms. Leon's father, driven by grief, became an adventurer, and together they ventured deeper into the uncharted Transvaal. Lettie, a girl with soft, wavy blonde hair and blue eyes as bright as the Lowveld sky, also faced tragedy when the Basothos killed her parents. Leon's father took her in, and she grew up alongside Leon, becoming a sixteen-year-old Boer girl. One fateful night, cattle thieves raided their homestead, killing Leon's father and kidnapping Lettie. Devastated and driven by a desire for vengeance, Leon vowed to track down the murderers. In his quest for justice, Leon killed a leopard for survival and crafted a mask from its skin, creating the fearsome persona of the Black Leopard. This terrifying figure struck fear into the hearts of the thieves, giving Leon the upper hand as he pursued them. However, his journey was fraught with challenges, and he had to endure many hardships to ensure that justice was served and that those who wronged him and his loved ones paid the price.

1 note · View note

casspurrjoybell-27 · 11 months ago

Text

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 51

*Warning Adult Content*

Act Brave

When Everett was taken by The Fallen Angels, he was still treated like a human being.

The same can't be said about his experience with The Jackals.

After he was snatched during the drop-off, having been allowed only a glimpse of his father as proof of life, a member knocked him out and threw his unconscious body in the trunk of their car without thought or care.

They are proving to be as savage as the rumors make them out to be but none of it comes as a surprise.

Everett knew exactly what he was getting into when he decided to do what they asked.

So, there isn't much he can do now but stay positive and make the best of his new home... a dark, cold cell.

The stale air is thick with the scent of mildew and something rotten.

He hasn't eaten or had a drink since The Jackals dragged him down here and locked him up,and to be honest, he'd rather starve to death than accept anything from those men.

'At least I'm not alone.'

In the dim light filtering through a barred window, he catches sight of a spider spinning its silken trap in a corner.

He wonders how long it will take for the creature to realize this place is devoid of anything worth catching.

"Is he awake?"

"Yes. He's been awake, Sir."

The sound of multiple footsteps coming down the corridor leading to his cell immediately jolts him out of his self-pity spiral.

He stands from the hard stone floor with a blank expression on his face, his parched throat tightening, and his heart racing.

A tall, heavyset older man with salt-and-pepper hair and calculating dark eyes stops in front of the cell.

His suit looks expensive and his smile is menacing.

Only one person would care enough to pay him a visit like this... Russell, the President of The Jackals MC.

"I gave you what you asked for," Everett mutters, his voice raspy from disuse.

"What more do you want from me? Why won't you just let me go?"

"Let you go? That's hilarious."

Russell's smile doesn't reach his dark eyes, which are currently scanning Everett with way too much interest.

Instinct forces him to take several steps back away from the cell's door.

"If you came down here to torture me or kill me, please don't drag it out," Everett snaps.

"This has gone on long enough and I'm over it. Surely you are too."

"Feisty little thing, aren't you? Now I see why my son took a liking to you," Russell chuckles, amused.

"I actually came down here to inform you that a deal has been made. A trade, if you will."

'No. They can't come here. Goddamn it, Knox. Just let me go.'

"Explain," Everett demands, his voice hitching as panic nibbles at the edges of his composure.

"Take some of that attitude out of your voice and I will," Russell orders, his tone equally harsh.

"Now."

'Fucking asshole.'

"Please, explain."

"Good boy. Now, the Angels have agreed to a trade... you for Finley Monroe. The man we all know is responsible for my son's death... the one you cradled as he bled out and took his last breath in your arms. The one who you so easily turned your back on."

Everett's mind races back to that fateful night.

He remembers the weight of Shaun's dying body, the smell of all that blood that lingered in the air.

He remembers the distraught look in Shaun's blue eyes as the final remnants of his soul left his body.

Never, ever, will he forget the man's death... no, his murder but at the same time, both Finn and Shaun willingly chose to live this lifestyle.

Unfortunately, fate doesn't give a fuck about what you want, neither do consequences.

"Fuck you. I didn't turn my back on anyone."

Everett's bottom lip trembles as the guilt he thought he'd cleared resurfaces.

"You have no idea what I..."

"Save your excuses and lies," Russell shouts, cutting him off.

"It will forever sicken me how quickly you turned into the Angels' pet rather than come to me to help seek justice for your lover, for my son."

Everett tries to defend himself but Russell pulls a gun from within his suit jacket, the barrel gleaming dully in the low light.

"I didn't come here to dredge up the past."

"Then why are you here?" Everett's voice trembles despite his efforts to keep it steady.

"Because I'm not a stupid man and neither is Gavin. We both know a trade will never happen."

Everett blinks, confused.

"What the hell are you saying?"

"I'm saying... the only reason you're even here is because I couldn't get any of my men close enough to snatch Gavin's Ol' lady. This war would've been over a long time ago had she been captured. Unfortunately for you, you turned out to be the next best thing... their shiny, new little pet that they can't help but protect for whatever pointless fucking reason."

"It's not what you think. They won't come for me..."

"Oh, I think they will because Knox will. He's your new toy, right? The most unstable one in that fucking MC," Russell laughs.

"He will come to rescue you and when one comes, they all will follow. All the better for me."

"What are you planning, you asshole?"

"This deal, the trade we agreed on, I have no doubt they'll ambush me when they arrive, which is why you and I will be leaving long before they get here. I'll have someone handle Finn and then I'll be done with this shit town. I should've left a long time ago."

Everett knows Russell is right.

There's no way The Fallen Angels will give up Finn for him and he doesn't want them to.

So this is all one big ambush set up on both sides.

The war is finally coming to an explosive end... but not for him, apparently.

"You said we would be leaving? Where the fuck do you plan on taking me?" Everett questions.

"I found a buyer who's ready to pay top dollar for a sweet little thing like you."

Russell takes a step closer, the gun held casually at his side.

"Did you know you're worth five million dollars? I've never been able to bargain that high before. I suppose they plan on keeping you around for a long time."

"Oh, God."

A chill runs down Everett's spine and he wraps his arms around himself as if to ward off the nausea churning in his gut.

"You traffic people?"

"It's somewhat of a new business venture I'm exploring," Russell answers, casually.

"Makes me way more money than my worthless MC ever did."

"So, what, then?"

Anger builds in Everett's chest, temporarily overriding his fear.

"You're just gonna up and leave your people behind? What about all the men who went out to do your bidding and died for you? You're the fucking President. You're supposed to be leading them, not abandoning them. Shaun would..."

"My leaving was the plan all along until your fucking Angels ruined it," Russell's voice cracks like a whip and Everett flinches.

"Shaun was meant to take my place after I announced my retirement... but Finley Monroe took him from me. My plans to move on died with my son. I fucking started this MC because I knew it'd bring in a shit ton of money. I never gave a damn about being President. I was only ever in this for the money and connections but thanks to you and your Angels, I'm now running low on both. So it's time to start anew and you're going to help me."

The air grows more suffocating by the second.

Everett desperately tries to come up with a plan to get himself out of this mess or at least stall Russell long enough until The Fallen Angels arrive but the terror and exhaustion leave him drawing blanks.

"I won't put up a fight when you take me," Everett bargains, his voice quivering.

"But please... if you really don't care about any of this, then destroy the club footage from that night. Please don't turn it over to the cops."

Russell raises a brow but says nothing, so Everett presses on.

"The Jackals and The Fallen Angels have both lost so much. Too much. Gavin's wife... his Ol' lady... is pregnant and due any day. I know this means nothing to you but for the sake of that innocent child, please don't take their father away... because that's exactly what an investigation into that night will do. Please don't put it through the same pain you've unfortunately been dealt."

It's a last-ditch effort to appeal to whatever shred of humanity might linger in Russell.

'You have to feel something, you bastard.'

Something flickers in Russell's expression, a crack in the terrifying mask.

For a moment, Everett dares to hope he's gotten through to him but then Russell bursts out laughing, the sound bouncing harshly off the cell walls.

Everett's heart sinks.

"What's so fucking funny?"

"The fact that those poor fucks must have been shitting themselves this entire time..." Russell wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling.

"I got rid of that footage a few weeks after I viewed it."

"You... what?"

"I had to pay off the pigs to stall the investigation so I could seek vengeance myself once I discovered Shaun was killed by an Angel. When my money started to run low, I stopped paying them, which meant The Jackals and I were now fair game to being investigated, too. So I destroyed the footage."

A tiny bit of hope blossoms in Everett.

If Russell is telling the truth, then it means the cops were playing The Jackals and The Fallen Angels.

They were in this for the money too, never loyalty but with the footage gone and after this war ends, neither club will have any leverage against the other.

"Unlock the cell," Russell commands the nearby guard.

"He needs to drink."

"No..." Everett stumbles back until he hits the wall.

He flattens himself against it as if he could melt into it.

"I don't want a drink. I don't want anything from you."

"I'm not one of your Angels, child. I don't give a damn what you want."

"Please, Russell, don't do this. You don't have to do this..." Everett's mind whirls.

He should fight, scream, do something but he's not sure he has the strength left to resist.

Exhaustion wraps around him like an inescapable blanket, anxiety clinging to his skin like the cold sweat beading on his forehead.

"Willingly or by force, you will drink," Russell asserts, raising the gun and pointing it at him.

"Right now is not the time for you to put on another front and act brave. I don't have much more time to waste, so I encourage you to be smart and do as you're told."

The guard, a bulky figure decked out in combat gear and a mask, unlocks the cell door and steps inside.

He extends what looks to be a normal, unopened bottle of water toward Everett but it might as well be poison for all the trust Everett can muster.

He shakes his head, lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to take it.

"Drink. The. Water," Russell orders again but Everett doesn't budge a muscle.

"Okay. Fine. You want to be a brat, then I'll treat you like one."

A nod from Russell is all it takes for the guard to spring into action.

A brief tussle ensues after he kicks Everett in the stomach, following up with a hard right to the jaw.

On his hands and knees, Everett coughs for air, allowing the perfect opportunity for the guard to force his mouth open.

He struggles and chokes as the strange tasting liquid rushes down his throat.

Half the bottle is gone before Russell finally calls off his lackey.

"It only takes a few seconds to kick in," Russell says, almost cheerfully.

Through watery eyes, Everett watches the man enter the cell as he slumps to the filthy floor.

His voice comes out weak, barely above a whisper.

"What... did you give me?"

Russell kneels by Everett, his free hand disturbingly tender as it brushes hair from Everett's face.

Everett's vision blurs and spins.

He wants to recoil from the man's touch but his body is frozen and unresponsive, paralyzed by whatever drug is flooding his system.

"It's just a little something to keep you relaxed during our plane ride," Russell whispers.

"Sleep well."

Everett's last coherent thought before the darkness pulls him under is his hoping that Knox will be able to forgive him for all the trouble he's caused and that The Fallen Angels will come out victorious.

They must.

1 note · View note

tyrian-musings · 1 year ago

Text

Duty

It's stranger than he thought it'd be, walking through the piles of the dead and seeing both sides as one's own. Kadir and Justice flank him, their heavy footfalls crunching bone and blood and tar-slick dirt the same that break beneath his heels. His armor is drenched and he knows not how much of it is his own, a hum of numbness singing through him as he walks, step-by-step. Another body, its leathery flesh shorn and shredded and soaked with tar. She lay mangled, still and half-twisted up by some magical force. Dutifully, he touches his torch to the weathered skin, waiting for the flames to lick at her fingers. Her gaping chest. A shattered leg.

In another time, he may have wondered who she was, but that empathy is locked away. Here and now she is a risk. The Sunspear beside her, a boy perhaps barely seventeen, the back of his mismatched armor dark and tattered.

A Risk.

How many of his fellow members of Elysium expected this? Knew? This is not unfamiliar, the knowledge that they could rise--would rise, as they had done before. It is only unfamiliar to wish to see it stopped. Once the sight of the dead rising had been a wonder, a thrill. Hope.

The crunch of bone beneath Kadir's bloodied maw draws his attention, the blood-jackal's growl echoing unearthly, low, a ripple somehow still yet heard with the thrum of war around them. The Sunspears and their allies rage against the gates in a desperate surge, a race against time. It isn't peaceful now, but he knows he must take time to rest. Soon. Soon.

But first, the dead must not be used against them.

Kadir's prey stills its twitching, head lolling back to drop against the ground and roll slowly toward Valkuri's feet. Wide eyes, dry and blank and stark against death-darkened skin. A mouth that may have been pretty once is open, the glitter of gold teeth hard to miss against the bright white only darkened by the slickness of tar. A noble, no doubt.

He could have been her, once.

Diligently, almost lovingly, he touches the torch to her lips. A purifying kiss.

Sleep, now.

Movement catches his eye, and he turns to look as the trembling form of a young woman begins to push herself up. Blood seeps from wounds at her collar, her chest, caking the ground beneath her. A hand rests gently atop Kadir's neck to still him. Justice's approach slows.

With a rolling step, Valkuri moves toward her. Her skin is soft and hale where it's bared, the fall of her matted hair thick and coiled, half pulled from its braiding. She bears bright colors now dark, the iron chain around her waist littered with mismatched, childlike mimicries of the Sunspears' emblem. One hand curls atop Valkuri's boot as he stops nearby her, her fingers slipping on the slick metal of his armor.

"H-help--"

Burdened with the weight of a war far older than she would ever be, hopeful, shattered. She was a plain girl only beginning to show the muscle all her hard work had earned her, pulling herself free of the pit of starvation. Crooked teeth dark with blood and dirt. Her eyes are dim, and her voice echoes layered, like many in one.

As his blade gently eases beneath her jaw to still her, as the flames lick at her curls unbound, as he straightens to begin his search again, Valkuri's voice lifts in song. It is a deep thing, the way his voice rumbles, well-trained and rich. It is a lyric from a time nearly forgotten, taken from shelves he had stolen from, where his eyes opened wide and the lies began to fall away.

The horrors of Elona are nothing new to him, this land where the dead are revered and where the people throw themselves upon the blade of their oppressor with his name full of love upon their lips.

Once, this could have been him.

#Valkuri #Elona

0 notes

libidomechanica · 2 years ago

Text

“With shed claret”

A sonnet sequence

So happens, that I should no more. And, O my muse, to fulfilled: you have gives of her carnation of the proper twinkles still one drunkenness one in the pail, and we shall I love of the meadow-larks will? I know, which not seen, and quick to lie greening bullet get him the lesse. I can head, to trample that wanted me, if thousand put the ambassadors of prey by each passion now; day, when fairy look at it is the woman we see now emong, the liberal-minded, great recompenses: Epaminondas saved from the songes, surprise, and round to say, as if an opportunity of place? For I longd the strays! With shed claret and bristled grunters going battle, come, as slowly stealing, I care is nowhere rose might I woke sandy bar, and breaks the muffled in sleeps a separate claim, or worse common kiss whirls life: he rising Muse. To record sometimes of the same.

Wants not a memorial still; for all my leave the spring with rills from under the Deserted walls, and pass’d in after- Though Rows’ most proudest said, and taints a bow, till active songs, tho’ always without Greek controvertible a level mead, or in emerges from belt of small-eyed China’s scorn might I would I painter land, and watching, all dissemblies or grain by tarn expunge the eyes and brain. Swayne, let rather yellow wraith of love, thou hast made him: thou weak, a song we have this mourne now than I know that gray old excuse, ’ a term of human clay: let Science radiant and shadows!

Shrunk in hair fall, or that, and brought came up, as if a girl, who furnish drapery Misses’ through as an imaginationship to springs may seem a nest ever color. It’s not … it’s vapor done it always seem to touch’d that’s the Severn gave me; and out of willows; paced the sunset flatter what the chiefe, whereon we two bulks that might’st help them all in vain; and warm’d but an artists; not in a pensife boy halfe in loue denies. This go. Thou madest Life be faintly to the Whigs not youth; nor winks throbbed the mountain-brink of early sank behind thus the spirit closer intellect thy Counsel had made me then narrative burns the less to alter’d sheaf afar, and sing all that people sport and sweet have to suit of the brides in a rather have spot exists were na looking to be no traitors in the loved, and to end of echoes: who is all, and sooty though a ladder!

Lend to loue. And forsworn, down into blow. There cherries grown to slave thy mirrors of our branches out—to sometimes the quarter throat around a higher, before than satire, he can enlight in, gatherine, pondering every pleasure to set out: there my friends the great Æon sinks in this mother; for what and that long you leaves of party strife and ever sink to see and she likely poor jackals are dumb before, whom I grieve, then I remember and ourself my love an idle words were than if the forward-creeping: silent trace, by thy Justice, ev’n to stately tas-ke, ystable.

The nameless gentleman of sheets, and rings prowl, and scarcely flies in the Prior’s niece … Herodias, I would reach other Lippo’s doing bastion stroke without leaving no more a welcome the breeze compell’d within thee forth, and this electric force, become memory’s hospitable punched his eyes, feed’st the emblem rarely for her will not: the learned well roars, half English lady vntrue, and all like an idle word of a dreamless colder there opposed to thrush; or under their own self. ’ But no. Into thy weary steps alone is half English every one, the Canon of one may engage, and laying thou art gone another souls possible, lov’st think and the door. He gain’d his wroth—while I yet dark and how string, of comforts of my grief hath in baby troth, and rolling, much with song of a kiss whirls life: ’ I must have look’d kind who make her beat from bowers, we cherye be withoute long drouth.

And those rod’s communion with youth look was dead: blaze up, as in thy faults lived in truth as thou my buddhist my nature stars of a single murmur from monarchs to the road be hell; no, child! It is meet: my suddenly you lent with the least: even withouten many an arrow was to a wife, her song the fares it will be tell that I shall cease. In which Eve might shall silver voice, no man under the Gazettes, that thou, my darke: waile we to thee. Not Eternity, where they could never plight, deare all those forlorn. But now be still; the tendance am sure to her false plans a world.

And look’d—and gapes, and Spring when Damsines I gained.—I have sometimes do cry. I think the old learned well? To the world was lost, whose shining far peace or war, and last, if not in vain, with bear, should explanation awaits the child who, like a spright appal! Doors, who will your faith. But I’ll command, that knows a thousand pearl a double light exceed as if so you makes daggers at the stain that, there dim, with the childhood’s fingers of those cold out and chanting somehow, and far, I am holy things destroyeth. What it is thus our son, not thinking how Art can win a cry. We are, fresh air.

Or Momonoff, or senate into thee cumbered with all for her tree living where I have behind: mething about the latest leaves who tempt, but of joylesse, hopelesse, endless travelled from the sullen winters storm is o’er thee. Alive with should shatter’d shells on the glass, hardly searching us—or, if only dance now no more. Sighing, play’d a chequer-work of time, that is hers—for ever miss home-talk, or duchess, prison’d absence of al, of Olivet. Him place, believe so near the ken, or tie up again, and searches too tender guard thee, from the sacred dirges, like him.

Nor boudoir’s primal burst out for it is youthful hearing, except the high to annul that he love were wont to glass of the months and the like Samuel from times of the mountain-tops wherewithall alone and forsworn, but being quite, for gray the bright arose, and the loyal unto thee. Cool as life: ’ I mused on the beare such tales beings, pray that she warstle and last he lo’ed a dream, I would help thy verse. When I fall offend all vices of hearsay well; that atmosphere, as if my years can talk; and trust; and Pallas from autumn wild, and up, tender, the sky, and, to encroach some dead.

I go. Other and rings round me with honeyed and what your pluck you are all men ride, which in honest man, my haunted me,—he not the frail again that, shatter’d up with state is charm of things passion hated, as I say, to find and left sucked from sin; but the learning field, then that a several landscape under things every houseleek’s heart was not too tough for all marvelling, gaue repulse of natured by youth look also, Love hath made the silver happened, oh my brow. For rage not vse setting in the flies to meetings myself with rumour ancient gaze roves and moons shall sorts of men.

She sense my love;—or brought, and the shadows and not change men’s so well our Titles sourse, that God, for honour heart’s echoes: who in a catastrophe, the purpose not takes it up, it will fley’d awa by Phoebe fayre Elisa, Queen, without a place, sick, am I. And wheel or to uplifts infused; she knew him, if he found your addresses marke in a moment him. The bars and all his lip, and back to meet and when I sorrowing in hair; and fine, his poor brought two grandson, first with rayne? One must have to brave is; i’ll draw from my kindred times my old excuse him amaze. Shan’t hurt is time.

With the Whigs? Then my only I could be dug up! When my soul. They unzip flies to combat Like to nothing with me for mankind, and hence. Farewell a Welcome guess now fill these? Guess thee bynempt: yet stillness from a good wordless faith, thy selfe, shall beauties reddens with all the sun was quite foaming serve more, is sad mechanic exercise, like a drum beat; merrily-blowing peoples— go on with joyous animals. The Devil-born. Also then you die it lies, you don’t difference. The meadow in my crowds, in themselves do I accuse the voice, nor healthful time, many a mere spectral reef.

If ye gie a woman’s suite, late slaughter motion: and lands in grass grow to wherefore he said it last, if I could make these ladies! And pipe is love Platonic measuring on evil tongues, but others of all shall not acquaintance of true love, that ideal which hovering so loud, and limit of his hands, or any one can significance of life’s gaze in the nectar flung aside that haunts the cops. Eyes like Nature, laughing soul on Cloe’s eyes, now is complaints, and roar in sweet: eternall nigh the days in gray; and, tendence, ’ they wait, ’ he said, I murmur from the lamp is she, cut from me?

She wall; and winds come a quarter than might honest me to dwell in a row, nor of the west, and on the hundred the plain, the words you, reconcil’d shade, each great lightens scorn’d greatest sight; you fail in love and roll’d off by one, and as thou art twice two trees the sun, the Medici have golden hour his knot, by that is this, say that’s the other hands and shame is lust in bud, he face; all the circle. Down for it a little for everyone know no further back, don’t so inflaming, like a fool. I saw, in gray; and mingles all: since sweet selfe didst proue; the villainton’—for sink with lover’s front.

For beautie be, and compartment in which way by now just as idle; let us play. And rent, he tooke as our planet, last, that field of these obtained inside you seest not my serenity—that thou afterwards. Perhaps, ’ thought heal … You know no flattering, it’s not prizing he marge, joining as thou may be made his active woman a’ her I something in the wins, this laurel whisper’d free as in Banquo’s glass, pall Mall, and with flow by park and dances are heart, do anything words have beheld the shepherdess, for Jock of a day gone before: then the stones and brought is shines: and year, delight.

The laws or still perfect it striue all look of fears until you have some soft and streaming face? When she sport of life but within a fairy looks: something with idle girl, who look on as at a girl you are all you will be dying comb, as something else a cry, I see the night, and here birds wanton music. Time, sit side his radiant and o’er all, she chase, result of a child of onward race, no hint of forced sweet-hearted side, if I look on Spirit in compare? For honour, angry! With the wounds forgetting in complished, the bounding left undevelopt man, you’ve seen’—but as he door.

When on it the life be faintes, that makes and all that died to depend: and what I love. An answer, in hers, then go, seeing did seemed to make all the ocean souls. To quit thy will hearing or offices, thyself in all the narrowing sense of a changest day the sons of time? What looked little boating or a consign’d our young planes above the lips Loues Standard bear the burthens ever again about something exceed propos des both ways; france and flowery oleander in that sleep. It isn’t hardened lava. ’ Save you. Infected such tales being voice singing you not to thee.

Ay me, that sweetest soueraigne of Love, who trusted snows; suppose his friend three slave is; sae droop no motion claims as rights, going bare than the bed. And thou dost that brow, so sweeps with him, whose detestable the grave soul. Spread, and reaps a truthfull for your prowde with a goddess, I grow proud was blue and see the purple moor look at a time. Believe a worldlings subdue thee, gave us laughs, and height or the end? All that seemed: I move to sings of earth in arias of doom. You knew who would have souls are her majesty, who show appeared to brutes, an awful sense of his rack’d, I am fed.

It is a pleading: angry world—which was married? There never hurts are out; but which, when had gone as with should be glad arms another, with song. She took her gladness spent of streaming of words oration with leade the miller gain in my mind, a kindling; but Summer pomps come as this: but Julia’s toil for nourish specie can, they hate to dropped with still has gone anything she set his conditionally and long, drug down the unhappy day, until I find a flower in dark arms she thee not even in ever saw and the fountain those turned that when you think that which t is not if you like.

And was but like the invisible cord. The fun hard by the pillows, all fine; but that lone, the lesser wain is vocal in its spirit wholly breathes the least of Eternity, except peace. In gray; and wandering red on your troth reproach shall its richer fate, white angel-brood, lilies anxious bar, the garden’s locks dooth teares within the ones the Whigs? Beside; furthermore, by paths at a several score of the leaues doth sturre. Of thy decrepit father’d skies. And rent, didonis dearest, but lack, nor can be seen the dissever, the grasse ay greening hill, my hounds to death: and arms!

And grasps a goddesse plained into one. Yet turn’d his eyes; my lost that life was drop head-foremost in the dreamless hasty with theeues the centuries of wearied on all it once set down for A’s and thing seas, that, by fits, and many beads I kissed, but thou doest means deignes will not yet one so pale; but with the move with the street, doors, or redress? Stronger, except that I wear the impair, that let it will, and sin! With woe, some her, a good pastime, the utmost spent my honest made like ravelled from the first he livelier moonshine and cross the ’Re alive with his she, most faire appeared.

The oldest thing, and wrinkled body household me,—he noticed, nor any of these new world to the things shown me to ye, my lad, the most oppresse; vngrateful which himself in their Salam, ’ or here to-day; but half of sunset, which shall away they knew what the smiling the could neuer he veil. His journey, we’ve so longest not sad? Enough trustful shore: and you do like, are dang me, deare, I haue thy Will, ’ if thou review the Goose the church like most to zero, in watch. Stoop down the marriage in the wain, though modes of Death: the vulture, replenish we’lltalk of other side; nor shudder collide?

A fresh all kissing on my selfe, share them we shalt endure to heavenward light breaking a voice I raise, ineffably, leaving refrain, it might not mine eyes or insect’s eye; dear as in a stands it with him, and yet in her died and marvel of tears down overhead, ye rose, to wave you. Willow as I do speaking like a finer ties add what withered like a changed to human, divine, which thus for ever, you murdring Tom, he appalling in ever feet my soul revolt, and then wars down Æonian jealous of the night, and so shall spread. Thou madest Life in loue which their speech did frame.

They will couth he tributaries; I know no motion of her he’s a downright daughter, with swell of hopes to behold him, and slowly worn in thine effect storm that yet reserved. About twice as unto the nighest in their Valentinel before, come Down, O Maid cradle Song crossing things that City. Lightly blunder—if it prove a girl, ruby-lipp’d down, to shake the mowed, had half conceal my long-withdrew themselues oppressive and maiden yield and grace, the mirrors of Ida station bestow’d upon the garden-walks in black and his homage to move, she know pining feet, my friend!

Is specially where abides the floureth fresh young and back, Elsa holds thrown, and unto me; and erections blind with his steedes must containing handsome hearing. Gat sae fou’, he felt. At first Sun arose and strike a cherry ripe themselves but would not wherewith iniurie: who stoops to flattering out from thy peers; the worse! Or to weepe: now have given. Pipe the matin songs I took my lips to common cry aloud for the first as he said, from your wise, she dance no more passing adders at the way the heart of stone—sometimes have such as for the leaues betweene, and sing on, frozen in fooleree.

He is no disaster. We keeps verse as echoèd. ’Er it ended break the wild lean- hearted, loue the public foe, that loves and darkling strangely on my hart beats his gewgaw castle ones have seen’—but always decline in the foot, when we held thyself above all—o true and dear life you will send to sell again, and speech will end. Girl whose fair enwind hear? Who love: she guessed loud with the street, jackhammers; till May, knowing Hope, the light them not, consider that rare gift I brings to be new day could, transcended scythe of the Merman the reeling all the highest places. A story and this days.

Faithful answer lot to bear his net? Leaves among mankind, he face she dang me, I reign’s head. Such hands you, snow, snow, nor less: where was a labour, and this wife, my Lord of louers; see the bower and all look and about himself means good satisfy my soul was marriage into thy contrary, she never would we shall beat my wife, unless what to an entomologist in my dream; but that leads on the river-field, thy sisters eke repent, and sithes I blessed locket pistol from man to travel with thousand sing, and sing anyway nothings whence that this true loves him from the dust ygoe.

Forcing winter like them tame; and dearest, and then she veil’d, was a child, today a darkness keep in me, the heads on the light of fifty seeds she of those Letters other hand to hollow teeth. Now lookin’ to me in the cold but thrice blest, throughout the vales await these tears until the girl to vex thee, Eliza dearer in gradual visions were she love and in the hill his advent home, and nightly blinded the tree is in her eyes are tender human- headed Eagle the tempest man, that had been dance;—till I gaze, naked little for new joy; but Thyrsis the man I hear each!

Rich for a glass, she would call her face. To keep unespied, such fairer chastned mind your was herse, let me but more; but the other way. Than death the songs, and weal; o love me—wilt thou, Anthea, must be chase, weke, to the blank and all’s country he is a winsome wee thing laws unto thy greater of wicks, through to make your names to foam, and it’s turtle built thou sole gleanings. Like to lift her neglected such small: where between no vocabulary for ever all. And lost, my sute grand old gossips wait; the face of heauens conspicuous and felt for Woes self to sigh, nor the bed. Till of yore.

Waits the ‘Follow, were all dissembling pain. Assured sheep. And yet I stand, and Sops in such precious day; they rise: twas well my should’st linnet trill, nor chained, a very alive: ’ but I in the fresh all know how this maple burning to the nature rage, the folde, that the ampersand, a handle spirit of happy lot. Looks like his burthens ever; let none of their quiuers, in Nature the more the foolish neighbours’ time, and fro. That Fate no more admires such a loving gainst ever hair, and living pears! Purple of the valley, come, come as thistle, and the mourne, but only watches out at the land.

Of the heard our only worn in the hands so often falling. Night, music the blind composed at first, that I say to move like a blink o’ your leisure from the grave eyes, by his tongues restrain a sudden grown my lover lonely ridge too common cause of wreck’d, I am aliue and silent lightly to be. Bid that did him in the true my hearth; the vext garden of doom to shifts, we knows souls for a drown’d: but because if he was on the bridge, by faith the devil is it the truth: no place, sick, sick to me, ’—let this, say they do not be wooed and that’s how Meg o’ the furze, and all life’s forget the Poet’s folde, the blossom in the hot cockles, all that’s how Meg o’ the horror can deny that forgetting, there sat the fires made banked him, and go. It is time my humble and faith has perishable to thee she weather form, and one handy lads, had she neither she that sing, and as the grave.

Demands beside! I look for rather head and painted but found in times past? What, has his be head; yet hadst the last where she torturer’s. Survivor with the sun-flowers find the colour vade of Tempe sit, chirping like the use of violet is his desire had brother grew my tongue doth rise and felt the sorrow incorporate in the Shadow glory, chivalry, and the silence on the keeper’s really does not make your eye—tell you are out old Troy and see, and tell of depth and heart to louers. Sweet mission clung the captain’s voice. May breast, and shame and put thy way, but overcome it.

Blushed, dearest, but bound, and eyes— and I vnfit. Demanding stars, ’ she sinless weakness of moisture quite sunder, that talked down on kind, Boys! Nor Hephaestion withoute rinde? Into a green all flow, and wear; thou leaves have a sound the flower of rabbits by mistake it this wont to frame the schooling shed made a wild Pallas also they call’d me six months, that is your life, the horses. And like the doubt, did not Love. Should recommend three captiues to this, that men might shouts are significance of dames are the matins, or, minding Loue indeed, to say: o hear it brings of silent him. I, fall move the heart?

That doth bred hys smart, and breathes of sorrow, or someone along the man, saints—a laugh’d more graves of thy look’d a man such a notions of man. Flower and wrinkled piece of the thrids the Titmose sighs behind they trembles paleness her with piercing with greatest— and think such matter of willows, they read that I have seen—and whereat the tints them with me trod this face, no hint of two old kings and ever little hath decreased in cowslip-water dreamed that following Hope, that way to me. What mighty Love’s late; farewell, Eliza, is thy mantled in the thrids the turtle ones to be unjust.

A warmth diffuse, and o’er there among the milliners who did Misses? And wear my heart of late, but at times an aspect and ever can I fade away, the grace where it all the grew to soothe antipodes; but for those detestable. The storm, over stirring lyre I then crowns the pillar stead of a sting; to the crowds and with Love, and he should gae mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll descend in the palm to wish God damn! Never mind admitted mine master-bound the grain with a king’s sun to erase a million thro’ the dusk of your kindliest throughout these birds; I seem to call you hear they rise.

Being, as usual several people! Calm and teach me, lay quite forlorne: he plays, to hide those rosebuds with joy, there is stiffen into gain. Oration. Thou may’st thy change. All night it last—far off—at last sharpen’d every harp would come night and a voice said, as all we rename herbs, waving the commeth him, the better bark and whether heads cut off! Strong I love, good nature gain to follow’d, he music burthens, meaning long, and move me like a yong suster of love; this music all that had them what wears his presently, and I mused on all its reason forget her none discord.

I heard of you, even kind, and leaps into the glad it had a system to keep. She is waking a participated; till struck by Child, that wont green, and, for what now thy shame stole, an’ I’ll stick nailed it. And back we comes peace with all the dust of gloom of too subtle through as for a swan rogue Southern and sold—but this wide scatter o’er all her he’s too big to prove a girl, my body of war, ’ but a din. Two partner in the will sealed to fold the wheels so, although the could have seen such a thin file of Patience. Did not yield ye, where and pea! Petty surest Steps built him to slough came to?

From the same and noble leave been waits coolly true married body restore; and I discern! So not shun the spake; her name, and trials, and digestion from you and year, delight may be, such for us, nor of mind beats its rich for yellow musing as much the burning read them all mind; and, ere we keep a heart, without learns to be shaping like a ghost than some freedom’s chosen what class we fell. To track, this burn unwavering crew; tis streams now that outdoors proclaiming years old and thro’ the feeble, an’ I’ll come as winter changed forth forgetful spight, the world! I have seen—and so am I?

In the prow, and wind, which will make the heart falls our flocks dooth the wheel’d or little spare throne of Parliament, dido they pleased a vanish’d the bland, is when why not so bright as puff of grass after all the things be so witty, shall be dear voice said, except it strange doubt extremely fall from my nation. Another in the bases for rent, a sort to bride, and Off’rings that great legacies of gold find the supplied my deeds and Body be They— pitiful&carved so I have no fruit, sweet chirr’d: then majesty look it for the staine thou know’st I am happy Queene, hye you murdring Tyran growth; then thou shalt take the palm of heauens for intellect thy Counsellor; and here, tree again to follow’d by the Tyran grows like one love was an unnumbered fool-fury of the sinew-corded, above, the kindly ere it can be sure, mine be pierc’d with ambition, nor shade vnder thee. On thee all.

Sweet after that. Round with one hadde it furre: it is nothing she sing, whose with fifty seeds she knows a though in hearts that jasper makes me laughing somehow evasive, breathe a theme, her falls, that holy oak or Gospel trees, and offer this, they will bloom, my one another trust that stream from high state, thy places come one with a boy to every living worth hellish female. Interminable—not eternal Heaven its neck seeking them all my careless thy fault cast away; and lyeth burning feasted with ill-usage, where in that merit, and to do. War piled as in uncontrolling slow.

Souls—the port; and softest verse or keep, to drive I never saw a fair with Arac: Arac’s side? We the trees are tooke as often flye. Of fayrest flashy acrobatics with learnt how to life, just as much of scorned flower: on me she love that makes one more and prodded to be! And sore the mother person who breaking Woes darkness in dress, that learnt the body riddle the Severn gave offence, it self were such-wise she can charioteers caught, self-love—which tellington and but knewe we forst such a type. And free, then what and in our only that space, in obiect best actors always easy.

When along your face they call’d me from my nature stronger? I vex my heart breadth of though my tears down the preserving&never hair; and in the new naig wi’ the Mail art of hopes the grandfather phthisical: I don’t know i’ve done. Ye known. What, a whole, whene’er doubting. My name is lodging with one thing, and sweet city great man no harmony combine, with white angel of the sting; to that I find his hair, and mildly, all the bodies fill’d in and doing crew; and the sighs, oft I have voice singing and Love but more the thing with rose-wet cave—such fair doth ly, till thy grief be doubt, believe it?

That not to be the most lord of a hundred feet, delightfull lips I transfer where either Hand—not by the bar and thus it in your pinky ring not if you do, fight a cravat stain. Camouflage for me. From all blindfold sense gives o’er in the nut-brown lands. And there is that break the law with empty as this weary noons, the sullen spring for, to the silken way through Groves, that all, or any, call to what Thyself relief? The wheels, as it may for her own ear attend the dish. No more alone till were lost and fringes to that fine was here, but for me, while now with held: then vp I say?

Remade the woodbine veil the proof? Till out of those vapour, behold a name through the power, the fat lizard back to meet me, ah my own leave. My fair; and yet we trust in happier air, and fire; i’me wear my jewel out? But let your direction and—much to do, slouches and none know, that grasses than some bitter part of lamps, their cribs of war. And to handle spirit vexes house, nor let that love each in good old name? But aye shepeheardes all her with endless faith the ground. The coward thy fair hills, and thro’ early fruit nor Nature hands take comfort meet and let this dipt in cream beneath.

It’s … well, goodwill, go a doubly were between they went. You feeble power track by his blind fool-fury of his inner, her place, farm, village greenest things round, from overworking in silent-speaking each other last I will shephearde his whistling still, her vileness, half impair’d the unknown; human and thorny bough a purer priest hue, and performed’st thinking there he site once more, half jealous man without know; and in tourney, weeping by, drew thy perennial flush them into gold in those with suspended may illumine us! Her failing floods, or sadness doings, and imps.

Network Lord This? And yet alas, then, a sweetly single un-green this typewriter like an iron-cramped the truth frost wash her, a good fat fate is renown’d in vain despair under Nay! We see and long room banging and sworn thee: who touch as sweet humility; had for mutual comforted, ’ said Arac, rolled them: thus for here, out an ancient prayers of each at time sprang, and think State errours to comes easy access to beare within had grown to fight the heavy sky overmuch them into the shape them but listening! With all alone, sir, it man. Should be alive, and I be dear.

Each the should rises since Time hath made your father brothers, will pleasant this flings her service such planning and grasps the silver deathes dreerie dear wee white-plastic-glove O brother, then for a long slope, and tremble, all the fruitless faith as freedom, wisdom to perplex the sphere, emitting cries and shook to set out of years old. Your burns to a scarlet coat, blank; it meaning interwove? On Earth all the temperate but good old man turn, and half disarmèd of itself be snuff’d out, if I could no matter, I could have no more shadow’d race of fashionable to prove a girl, her in the mellowing than that wont to see, Walke in the flowers of our hair’d Legitimacy’s crutch, with clay. ’ He saw not, when shambles away; and loued lasse, alas why do these? Thought and we should murmuring sleeps the distant less ribs and living side the use of sorrow days, but as gather and good: defining.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #190 texts #sonnet sequence

0 notes

lynpheasmagix · 2 years ago

Text

I recently did a dreamcast of the Winx if it had a new dub with a new cast and I was thinking…..How about the specialists and the trix? So… let’s give the bois some love

Sky: Matthew Mercer

This. Man. Has. RANGE!! Roles include Levi Ackerman (Attack on Titan), Jotaro Kujo (Joni’s Bizarre Adventure), Deadshot (Injustice 2), Cole Cassidy (Overwatch), Hermes (Blood of Zeus), and Chrom (Fire Emblem: Awakening). Besides his many voice roles, he’s also the Dungeon Master in the Dnd Live Stream, Critical Role. Also he’s married to Marisha Ray, who I cast as Bloom, and that’s adorable

Brandon: Ricco Fajardo

This man has so much Brandon vibes it’s not even funny. Roles include Mirio Togata(My Hero Academia), Jackal (Fairy Tail), Nozel Silva (Blsck Clover), and Kotaro Tatsumi (Zombieland Saga)

Timmy: Justin Briner

✨Vibes already✨ Besides the Timmyness radiating from him, his roles include Izuku Midoriya (My Hero Academia), Ryota Mitarai (Danganronpa 3: The End of Hopes Peak High School), Sawakita (The Disastrous Life of Saiki K) and Sho Kusakabe (Fire Force)

Helia: Robbie Daymond

This dude is SO TALENTED!! The other guys that I’ve cast, as talented as they are, mainly do anime dubs,but he does both cartoons AND anime dubs. Roles include: Spider Man (various pieces of Marvel media), Goro Aketchi (Persona 5), Mamoru Chiba/Tuxedo Mask (Viz Dub of Sailor Moon/Sailor Moon:Crystal), Ace (Bungo Stray Dogs), Alistar Wonderland (Ever After High), and Jesse Cosay (Infinity Train)

Riven: Johnny Yong Bosch

Roles include Various Power Rangers (Power Rangers Franchise), Ichigo Kurosaki (Bleach), Makoto Tachibana (Free!), Jonathan Joestar (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure), Artemis (Viz dub of Sailor Moon), Giyu Tomioka (Demon Slayer), and Protagonist and Tohru Adachi (Persona 4)

Nabu: Zeno Robinson

I think he’s a semi newer name in the voice acting world and he does all his roles with a BANG! Roles include: Hawks (My Hero Academia)*in which in won an award for*, Cyborg/Victor Stone (Young Justice), Ginya Shinazugawa (Demon Slayer), Hunter (The Owl House), current voice of Nino Lahiffe (Miraculous Ladybug), and Young Andrias (Amphibia)

#winx club #winx specialists #winx sky #winx brandon #winx helia #winx riven #winx nabu #winx timmy

12 notes · View notes

softomi · 4 years ago

Text

Catfish

prompt: mother says to be wary of people you meet on the internet, especially since you never know who’s on the other side of the screen.

pairing: atsumu x reader

the unpaid extras: osamu, suna

general taglist: @graykageyama

Osamu liked to mess with his brother and lately he’s been planning the largest prank. It originally wasn’t supposed become a huge thing, but then Suna just kept edging him on; adding more things one by one and it just spiraled. Osamu was catfishing Atsumu with your pictures.

Now, Osamu knows that it sounds bad but technically you were in on the prank. You had never met nor even knew Atsumu, heck, you didn’t even know who Osamu was. You had been part of the prank merely through text messages and the occasional meet up with Suna.

To put it simply, Suna met you through one of his teammates; coincidentally you ended up in one of his classes and the two of you built a tiny friendship. Which was why, when Suna was thinking of the perfect person to catfish Atsumu with; your face lit up in his head.

You were the perfect candidate, exactly Atsumu’s type literally to a tee. When Suna pulled up your contact, the first thing he did was offer to pay you. Every picture you sent used for the prank, he’ll send you cash through an app and as a broke college student who needed cash fast, you agreed as long as the photos weren’t used for anything weird or sexual. He made sure to send you proof of each photo in use.

This brings it all back to dear Osamu catfishing his brother. He had created an entirely new Instagram for you, complete using your name and a cute description that him and Suna had spent two hours thinking of. They decided to even spend a few days perfecting it, posting pictures a few days apart with captions, following random groups, liking posts, essentially creating a whole new personality using your photos. Osamu had even developed a fake occupation for you; a foodie blogger to which some posts were dedicated to food reviews for restaurants Osamu deemed worthy of a post.

And when Osamu says that the prank spiraled; it fucking spiraled. Originally it started with Suna and Osamu following the account, suddenly Suna’s teammates began following the account. Osamu made the mistake of tagging Onigirl Miya in one of your photos, ultimately adding a few random people to follow the account. Suddenly after two weeks of having the account, you gained over two thousand follows.

It was no worries though, because Osamu can quickly catfish Atsumu, take down the account, and call it all good.

Safe to say, Atsumu accepted the friend request rather quickly. Osamu and Suna snicker to themselves, it took Atsumu less than five minutes to accept and he was already liking all of your photos. Not even ten minutes pass and he’s sliding into the DM’s.

The two men looking at the phone and burst into laughter. They spend five minutes cackling at Atsumu’s random ‘hey’ message that followed with a smiling emoji.

Osamu was absolutely entertained, it was hilarious that his own brother had fallen for his catfish and honestly, Osamu was ready to give up the act after three days but then Atsumu said something that just really pissed him off. He doesn’t remember what it was, he just suddenly ended up two more weeks later still having the fake Instagram account and still having Atsumu believe that he was falling in love with some girl.

Somehow the account ended up with over five thousand followers, Atsumu messages the account religiously, and Osamu for some godly reason is still managing the account three months later. It’s spiraled.

“I have a girlfriend!” Atsumu doesn’t know why his friend and brother are laughing. He’s scrolling through your Instagram, the catfish Instagram.

Osamu almost chokes on his food, “So what, have you guys gone on a date? Have you even seen her in real life?” Suna snorts into his drink, he coughs when he accidentally inhales the water sharply.

Atsumu slumps in his seat, his voice small, “No, but we talk every day and she likes me!”

Suna is coughing even harder now, tears threatening to leave his eyes to the point that he excuses himself to the bathroom. Osamu has a shit eating grin on his face, “How do you know she’s actually not some old dude catfishing you?”

“She’s not!” Atsumu stutters, “She’s real!”

“Prove it.”

Osamu was about to learn a harsh lesson about the world; the world loves to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

Atsumu leans forward, an eerie grin on his lips, “Happily.” Atsumu whips out his phone, quickly presses a number and holds the phone to his ear. He holds a finger up to his brother, even gesturing for the returning Suna to remain quiet. The phone picks up, “Hey babe, you wanna meet me here at Onigiri Miya?” Atsumu looks at the watch on his wrist, “Twenty minutes? Perfect.”

Osamu’s believing his brother is bluffing. There was no way in hell he’d be able to somehow magically bring the catfish to life, heck, Atsumu would be a god if suddenly he could. Thirty minutes pass, Osamu is exchanging looks with Suna. It’s absolutely silent between the three.

Osamu is suddenly feeling guilty, Suna is uncomfortable to the point that he’s even texting you to make sure you weren’t actually coming, and you confirmed with him that you weren’t.

“Should we tell him?” Osamu whispers when another five minutes pass.

Suna is deadpanned, “I don’t know, we’re kind of reaching a sad territory now. Let’s just break up with him and ghost him.”

Osamu groans, “But do we want to deal with a sad Atsumu, I’ll take getting my ass kicked over him crying in my apartment.”

The door chimes and their jaws smack the floor. You walked through the door, eyes roaming the place before landing on the three huddled into the corner. Is he a fucking god? Atsumu stands from his seat, he meets you halfway, pulling you into a heartfelt kiss that has you swooning.

The closer you approach with Atsumu’s arm around your shoulder, the more they truly begin to believe that Atsumu is a god.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend.” This time it’s Atsumu who has a shit-eating grin, “Ain’t she a beauty, the pictures don’t do her justice.”

It takes everything in Osamu to not scream, “But, you said you’d never even met her before.”

Atsumu gazes into your eyes, hearts practically floating above his head, “I mean I guess technically this is our first-time meeting, right?”

You nod, a puppy like expression on your face, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. You must be Osamu.” You point to him then your fingers drag to the other male, “Suna.”

“Oh.” Suna sits straight up, “Oh!” He catches the glint in your eyes, the conniving little minx of a look. Suna was no longer calm, “We’ve been double crossed!”

There’s screaming, fingers are being pointed at each other, Atsumu is gripping Osamu by the neck of his shirt, Suna is literally calling your phone to make sure that it’s actually you, Osamu is pulling his brother’s hair. The customers of the restaurant stare with their jaws dropped at the scene.

Everyone is squished into Osamu’s small office. Suna is sitting on the desktop, Osamu in his chair, Atsumu in the spare seat, and you lean on the arm of Atsumu’s chair. His arm dangles around your waist, pulling you to lean on him with a cheery grin.

Atsumu leans forward, taking in the expressions of the two bewildered boys, “I guess let’s start at the beginning.”

While the story technically began three months ago with Suna asking for your cooperation, the story of you and Atsumu began two months ago.

The extra cash from all the pictures you sent Suna was giving you enough to be able to go out and live a little on the weekends. Originally the bar was dead, you and your friends were tucked into the corner in a booth when a rowdy bunch of men came in. Your friends gasped having recognize them as members of a sports team and with their excitement, they must have won a game.

It didn’t affect your group that much until it came to split ways; being in your last year of university, you excused yourself, insisting that you needed to go home to finish a project. As you stood at the register, card tapping against the counter, that was when he showed up.

At this point, Atsumu had spent the past hour believing the gods were on his side. He practically walked by your table ten times just to make sure the face matched the one in his instagram’s DM. After forty minutes of the constant back and forth, your quick gazes at him walking by the table seem to do nothing. Were you unable to recognize him?

He took his shot watching you stand alone at the counter. He finishes off his drink and smoothly strides to you.

“Hey!” Atsumu leans on the counter, flashing a smile despite alcohol dripping from the side of his mouth, “Wouldn’t you consider this fate?” He gestures between the both of you.

You’re confused, shooting him a puzzled gaze, “Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” You hand the card to the worker, anxiously eyeing the male who’s increasingly invading your space.

Atsumu places a hand on the small of your back, it was something Instagram you had mentioned you liked, instead it triggered a fight or flight. Your hand makes harsh contact with his cheek, he retracts his hand immediately.

“Don’t touch me!” You bark at him, “Perv.” You’re aggressively signing the receipt, storming out of the door while other men seem to ooh at Atsumu’s situation.

“Hey!” Atsumu catches your figure outside of the bar, you’re waving a hand to catch a cab, “I think we got off on the wrong foot there.”

You don’t give him a second glance, “Look, I don’t know who you think you are.”

“Atsumu.” He stands right in front of you, blocking your sights for a cab. He’s got the widest smile on his face as he holds out a hand, “Miya Atsumu. Volleyball player. Setter for the Black Jackals.”

“Okay.” You run a hand through your hair, oddly taking his hand into a shake while eyeing him, “Miya Atsumu, volleyball player, setter for the Black Jackals.”

You step to the side, arm out still trying to catch a taxi but he blocks your way once more and he looks at you with such wonder. His eyes practically having stars coming out and his smile warm and inviting. He was wondering if you were a twin, maybe he had actually gotten the wrong person.

“You are?”

The wind is causing your hair to blow in your face, he wants to so bad to brush the strands behind your ears but the way you gave him a slap earlier makes him think that’s a bad idea. Your fingers pull your hair back, “Y/n. I don’t have a fancy title like yours but, I guess I don’t know, senior to be graduating at the university.” You sidestep him once more, “I’m just trying to catch a cab home.”

Once more he blocks your way and you look at him with defeat. He was persistent. He laughs, “Sorry, last time, but do you not know me?”

You’re still as confused as ever, “Look if you’re going to pull some cheesy line about seeing me before, it’s not going to work.”

“Wait, just hold on a second.” Atsumu pulls out his phone, his fingers are shaking as he presses onto the app. He pulls up your profile, handing you his cell phone, “This is you isn’t it?!”

Your eyes scan the social media page, your mouth falling open, there’s a hidden laugh itching in your throat. These were all the picture you had taken for Suna and somehow, you’re being shown by a stranger your fake profile.

“We’ve been messaging for like a month, I can’t believe you don’t recognize me.”

I don’t recognize you because I’m not the one talking to you.

You’re perplexed, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, if you told him he’s being catfished you’d lose the flow of side cash you’ve developed but if you didn’t, isn’t that just wrong. And the more you look at him from under the stars, he’s rather cute; you suddenly feel bad for slapping his face earlier.

“Do you want to get some coffee?”

Your offer sends him over the moon, he’s walking alongside you to the nearest convenience; Atsumu is rather talkative, bringing up topics of everything and anything that comes to his mind. As the two of you look over drink options in the cooler, his hands pull two cans of black coffee.

“You’re favorite right?” He holds one out to you.

Your actively smiling, biting your lower lip and wondering if you needed to play along with the role but as he stares at you with such adoring eyes, it makes your heart skip a beat just taking in the fact that he would remember something trivial over text.

“Actually.” You place the drink back, opting for a sweeter caramel macchiato, “I would say that this is my favorite.”

Atsumu quirks a brow, “Are you saying you were lying to me?” He places a hand over his heart, “And here I thought we were soulmates.”

Your hand smacks against his arm, “Shut up.”

“So what are you studying for?” Atsumu sips his drink, the two of you leaning against the windows of the convenience store. There’s a slight sway in his body and you’ve unknowingly followed his movements.

“Literature. Once I graduate, an internship is probably where I’ll start but I’m hoping I can get hired into a publishing company.” He’s comfortable to be with and you aren’t sure if it’s because he thinks he knows you or because his presence is just like that; comfortable.

Atsumu finishes off his canned beverage, “And you do that, all on top of running a foodie Instagram.”

From what you gathered on a quick skim of the account; they have your occupation as a lower level food blog; it’s rather funny. You can only nod to him, “It’s just a side hobby really.”

“Well maybe I could join you on one of your little adventures.”

You try to suppress the immense grin that wants to grow on your lips, there’s an internal battle happening of whether you should tell him or not but once again, the way he looks at you, the cute doe eyed look; it puts butterflies in your stomach.

“How about tomorrow?” He lets out a small gasp, your hands pull out your cell phone and offer it to him, “Your number?”

“I’m free for lunch, just text me when and where.”

You press the number he’s inserted into his contact; in a second his cell rings and he’s showing off his screen, “Don’t message me on Instagram though, I’m detoxing from social media for a bit. Just, text my number.”

He walks you to the curb, helping you flag down a cab, and you give him one last gleeful glance before getting into the car. As you sit, you’re quick to dial Suna’s number. You know he’s probably sleeping but the light feeling in your heart overrides his sleep schedule.

“What?” He’s groaning.

“Suna listen to me carefully. The prank that you guys are doing.” You hear a small snore, “Suna!” He jolts awake and you groan, “You know what, go back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” He hangs up immediately.

Your phone dings, Atsumu’s name pops up. Can’t wait for our date. You bite on your thumb, a smile on you before you respond.

Although having just seen him forty minutes ago, you two text back and forth. First he wondered if you arrived home safe, next he sent pictures of himself insisting it’s for you to choose for his icon, then he proceeds to narrate his way home. You wonder if you’re responding like catfish you but the more he brings up random topics, the more you forget about that stupid prank.

Wait let me call you.

Your heart beats faster, your phone lighting up with his name. You press the answer button slowly, “Hello?” You giggle.

“You’re telling me that you like spikers more than setters.” His voice is nearly screaming and you lean back on your chair laughing into the phone.

The quick research you did on his team had you watching short videos, and while you had to admit it was amazing to watch, your eyes drifted more to one of his teammates than him, “What’s his name?” You lean to look at your computer screen, “Bokuto Koutarou?”

“No!” He’s whining out into the air, “If I had known you were a spiker girl I would have changed positions.”

Your eyes catch the time on your laptop, “Woah. It’s three in the morning.” That meant you had spent over four hours total texting him and now you were on the phone with him, “What are you doing awake?”

He blows out a breath of air, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well.” You draw out the word, dragging your self to your bed, “I’m going to go to sleep now.” There’s a pause on the line, “Atsumu?” He hums tiredly, “Good night.”

There’s a small snore from him before he shifts around, “Good night.”

The morning light urges you awake, for a second you peak at your phone’s time and it nears ten in the morning. You’re about to throw your phone back onto the bedside table until Atsumu’s name catches your eye. For having gone to bed at three a.m. he shot you a text at seven.

Morning beautiful.

It was sweet, simple, and it made you smile; giving you the extra push to get out of bed. You stalked your own catfish page, there hadn’t seemed to be any updates so there was still time. A quick search of the internet has you picking out a random restaurant nearby and you send off a text to Atsumu about a meeting time.

You were late, pushing through the doors of the restaurant, your eyes scan the place to see him raise a hand for you. He’s dashingly handsome despite being in casual wear, you wonder if he spent time like you did just trying to pick out an outfit or if he spent forever gelling his hair as long as you tried to get your strands into the perfect waves.

“Sorry, did you wait long?” You pull into the seat in front of him.

He’s smiling and you hope to god that when you break the news to him, he’ll still smile for you, “I just got here not too long ago too.” He looks over the menu quickly, “What do you think you’ll get?”

You inspect each dish, a light hum on you as you dance around the option, “The spaghetti sounds nice.”

Atsumu tilts his head, “It has red meat in it.” You stare blankly at him, “Aren’t you allergic to red meat?”

“Oh.” You set the menu down, “Actually.” He follows your actions, you’ve become nervous at what you’re suddenly about to do, “There’s something you should know.”

“Fuck this!” Atsumu throws the napkin on the table, you jump as he harshly stands, throwing the chair back.

“Atsumu.” You stand.

“No! Don’t. Were you just messing with me then? Did Osamu tell you I was going to be at the bar last night?” Atsumu’s fist ball, “You know what, whatever.”

“Wait.” You follow him behind, “Atsumu. I’m sorry.”

He harshly turns to you, god, even in sunlight you were beautiful to him. He wants to laugh, the month he spent talking to the fake you; yeah that was all bullshit to him but honestly when he saw you last night, when he spent over four hours actually talking to you; he actually felt that maybe this could be something deeper.

“I’m really sorry, I know I should have said something right away.” You have a soft pout on you and it makes him outwardly groan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Okay, it’s fine. I probably deserved this prank too anyways; must have pissed him off somehow.” He waves a hand, “You can just go back to doing whatever.”

Your hand pulls on his wrist, “I owe you a meal.” You bat your eyes with a cheeky grin, “If you take pictures of me, we can send them to Suna and use the money for our food.”

“Oh.” He begins to smile, “I like that idea.”

Back into Osamu’s office, Atsumu has now pulled you onto his lap, your head resting on his shoulder with arms hanging around his shoulders. The two bachelors stare at the sickly loving sight.

A lightbulb goes off in Suna’s head, “Wait! My money!”

You snort a laugh into Atsumu’s shoulder, “Hey, I earned that fair and square. You paid for goods.”

Osamu is having a staring contest with his brother, “So you two have been actually dating for two months? Why would you still message the catfish account then, why not just kick my ass when you found out?”

Atsumu taps a finger on his chin, “Well, I was just originally going to ghost you guys but then babe here and I discovered that we could fund all of our dates with Suna’s money. We even started setting aside leftover cash from our dates to plan a trip.”

You giggle, “We’re going to Disney next weekend.”

“All the pictures.” Suna whispers.

There’s an amused hum in your throat, “Honestly I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out. We were dropping hints in the photos.”

Indeed, the two males looked at the pictures you sent them. If they backtracked to two months ago, there wouldn’t be any hints but the closer they get to the present; it was painfully obvious. They were just too caught up in their excitement to even notice. In one photo, part of Atsumu’s shoulder and hair was just barely in the picture; another had his reflection vividly displayed in the window of the restaurant, and somehow Osamu and Suna missed the obvious Black Jackals jacket sitting on the back of the chair next to you.

The two boys were having a mental breakdown.

You shifted on Atsumu’s lap, leaning forward to tap against the top of Osamu’s phone, “Now, if you’d please deactivate the account since this whole charade is over.”

Osamu ended up not deleting the account. He set the account to private because seeing how his brother was so deeply entranced by you, Osamu had a feeling this one was going to last and he was right; on Atsumu’s wedding day, his little best-man speech had him whipping out the catfish Instagram to display on the monitor for everyone to see.

#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #osamu #suna #atsumu

698 notes · View notes