#The new boy in town [Jib]

[quill-pen]

A Quiet Evening

So @rom-e-o surprised me today with some super romantic pics (featured) of my Wolves in the Sims. And I was inspired! Romey, consider this a show of my gratitude!

Thank you very much!

Sims au I guess. Connie's Eb and Bess' are actually twins named Ebenezer (Connie's) and Ebenezar (Bess') because their dad just sucked like that. Bess' boy 99.9% of the time gets called "Wolf" though. Connie's boy gets called "Adonis" 99.9% of the time. The brothers work together in the business, although Wolf is kind of semi-retired from that now and lives on and works a farm with Bess (Scrooge Acres). But at the same time, he still kinda does what he did because he works with a lot of farmers advising them on stocks and business and financials and such. So I guess he kinda retired into an personal advisory position and still technically works.😅 But he wouldn't have it any other way.

He also has long hair, because why not? It's sexy.

Note: Added some extra details to things that don't necessarily match the pictures.

It's not the song they dance to, but I can't not do this:

Late evening had descended upon Scrooge Acres (FORGET THE WINDOWS IN THE SHOTS--I SAY IT'S EVENING, SO IT'S EVENING!). The evening chores had long since been finished and animals bedded down for the night; Bess' siblings were away for one of their customary nights at Granny Shaw's, the few staff members had been given the evening off, and the picturesque farmhouse was mostly quiet except for the sound of slow, schmaltzy music coming from the house's stereo system. Some male singer with the voice of an angel (and who Bess thought sounded a good deal similar to her hubby) covering Etta James' 'At Last' was currently playing, the singer's passionate, sultry tones oozing like warm honey through the air. And at the center of it all, the Scrooges slowly danced around their front hall, holding each other close as they swayed to the music.

It was date night for them. Well, actually, in truth, they usually ended up having several date nights through the week, but this night--Friday--was officially their set-aside night to do romantic, couple-y, date night things. A night for them to make it so that they were alone and able to enjoy each other's company without any interruptions. A night for them to ditch their comfy work clothes and get dressed and dolled up for themselves and each other. Though it was doubtful the clothes would stay on for very long.

Sometimes on these special nights, the pair would go out on the town, but other nights, even all gussied up to the nines, they opted to stay home and just have a quiet, lovely evening between the two of them. They'd gone with the latter option this night. And as she was slowly danced around the room by her wonderful mate, her head resting on his broad shoulder as he held her close to him, his distinctive scent in her nose and lungs, and his soft warmth enveloping her, Bess came to the conclusion they couldn't have made a better choice.

The song came to a close, and the couple slowed to a stop, parting only just enough to meet each other face-to-face. The dark-haired woman smiled with a blush up into her husband's face. Her heart beat faster and her body grew warmer as he returned her affectionate gaze. "You look so handsome," Bess couldn't help but bashfully murmur as she squeezed his hands. "Like a fairytale king." King--not prince; Ebenezar 'Wolf' Charles Scrooge had surpassed the status of 'prince' long ago.

Wolf's blush burned brighter. Such compliments never failed to turn him into a tomato. "Don't I always?" he gently teased her, winking a mesmerizing slate-blue eye as he smirked.

Bess' blush darkened to the point her cute little freckles popped as she giggled. "Oh, of course, my love!" she jibbed back. "Without a doubt! It's just... you look especially handsome tonight."

And he truly did. The Englishman was decked out in a new smoking jacket, black velvet, soft to the touch, intricate, golden designs embroidered on the chest, lapels, and around the hems. Beneath that, a soft, pressed white shirt and a silken, burgundy cravat subtly patterned with roses smartly knotted about his neck over perfectly creased trousers and shiny leather dress shoes. And his hair--oh, the gorgeous, silky, silvery-steel mane of his that was finally at the length he wanted it after years of growing it out! Flowing loose instead of in the horsetail he usually styled it as, it made the man look as though solidified starlight flowed from his follicles. When her head had been on his shoulder, Bess had caught the unmistakable, fresh scent of peppermint and lavender coming from his hair amid the musky pine, citrus, and black pepper smell of his cologne and aftershave. And Bess couldn't help but think that that's what starlight should have smelled like if it had a scent.

Wolf chuckled in that way that made Bess' heart skip beats and her tummy do acrobatics, and he pulled her close into him again. He lifted a hand beneath her chin to tip her head back a bit more as he gazed deeply into her enchanting midnight blue eyes. "And you look especially beautiful this evening," he purred, his voice throaty and deep, his eyes a bit darker than usual as he lightly traced her pillowy lips with his thumb. "And that's saying quite a bit, considering you always look gorgeous, my Brightness."

And there was no question as to either statement. Bess looked an absolute vision in the new dress she'd gotten while shopping earlier in the week with their sister-in-law Constance. It was a rich burgundy shade and, like his jacket, was made of fine, luxurious velvet, except for the very bottom of the skirt, which was fashioned of pleated, ornately patterned lace. It's form-hugging quality and off-the-shoulders cut with a modestly plunging neckline spoke to the woman's ever burgeoning acceptance of and confidence in her looks and figure. That alone could make Wolf's heart soar for joy: The wonderful view of her cleavage was just a much appreciated bonus. Topped off with a simple diamond necklace he'd gifted her the past Valentine's Day, white, silk evening gloves, delicate touches of makeup, and sans shoes (because why would she bother when they weren't going out and his favorite footwear for her was no footwear?), his wife only looked more like the entrancing queen Wolf perpetually envisioned her as. Especially when he caught whiffs of peppercorn and roses from her throat, and vanilla and nutmeg from her coal-black waves. Bloody hell, she looked and smelled good enough to eat! He could easily have gorged himself on her!

The American smiled a little cheekily as she brought her hands back to rest on his shoulders. "Well, I had to look extra special for an extra special date night," she cooed, stroking down his upper arms and touching the tip of her nose to his. "I assume you know why it's extra special."

The man chuckled again and let his hands fall to gently grip her waist, bowing his face closer to hers. His eyes softened to a heartbreaking degree and he pulled her in until their fronts were pressed flush to each other. He noted in awe how her blush deepened at the contact. The fact that he, old Ebenezar Scrooge, former recluse and miser, could make this lovely, charming woman blush like a crushing school girl, even after all the time and ways they'd been together was nothing short of one of the Lord's miracles. And he would be forever thankful for it.

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken," he rumbled against her, "but I believe it's the anniversary of the night we first had dinner together and you first kissed my cheek."

Bess practically grinned at his memory. Really she shouldn't have been surprised he remembered something like that when he could just as easily recall the first time she'd belched in his presence or the first time he picked one of her hairs off his jacket. But after her relationship with Oliver, who, honestly, couldn't have even been bothered to remember when Christmas was, Bess still wasn't completely used to someone caring enough to remember so many things involving her. Even after several years it was still a treat. Perhaps it always would be.

"The night I matchmade myself out of a date and you invited me to the not-a-business-dinner-but-actually-a-business-dinner you were having with the Lord Mayor and his wife and the Cratchits."

"Oh, were they there too? I can't seem to recall. I just remember your lovely face glowing and your musical laughter ringing like silver bells all evening."

Bess rolled her eyes and snorted at that. "Oh, Wolf," she huffed. "You can't possibly forget how I danced with the Lord Mayor to sweeten him to yours and Adonis' homeless house pitch."

"Oh, I remember you dancing, certainly," Wolf stated with a nod. "I could never forget that sight: You twirling about in that flowery, blue evening gown with all the grace and beauty of blooming rose while that galumping shadow tried to lead you." Wolf's eyes narrowed just a bit as he focused on said memory for a moment. "I always get annoyed with that shade when I remember that night."

Bess laughed and the mellifluousness of it banished any dark feelings her husband might have possessed.

Turning his full attention back on his wife, Wolf smiled adoringly at her again. "I love it when you laugh," he told her, practically whispering. He trailed a hand up the softness of her arm and took a lock of her hair between his fingers to play with. He watched the soft, black strands for a moment as he twirled them ever so gently, never pulling or tugging. "I love it when you smile," he continued. "I love it when you brush your hair or put on makeup or get dressed or shave or wax. I love it when you talk, walk, run, dance, breathe. I love it when you... exist."

He looked back up into her eyes, bringing his other hand up to cup her soft, freckled cheek as he stroked her cheekbone. "I love you, Bess."

Bess' eyes were soft and shining with moisture as her painted lips trembled into a smile. Comforting warmth settled in her chest and moved out in smooth, calming waves throughout her body until even the very ends of her hair felt toasty. She would never understand how this marvelous man could make her feel so special so easily, but he did. And she couldn't have been happier. "I love you too, Ebenezar," she breathed.

The man bowed his face to hers and her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in to meet him. Their lips met in the first of many kisses to come on that quiet evening.

Taglist: @luvreadingfics @amazingassash @beascrooge @themostanonymousscribbler @b4bynikii @sparklesphobia @christmasgaybusinessmen @tenodai @witchypandamonium @purgratoriat @neonshoe @orangewierdo @mirthadra @the-enchanted-rose @simp2537 @pandora-native-ayatei @youngsongnerd @crimson-phantom-designs @cila-17 @ry-ichi1 @artist-anon08 @alittlebitbethany @crowwritesthings @hyerizz @crowbones13 @rom-e-o @softmullet @cheesethegodfather @the-house-of-auditore-frye @thephantomofzaun @littlethief78 @oldmanlusting @annsign @juderia637 @mystarsignisno @ray-painter

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles Solo Panel | JIBCon 2023 (February 26, 2023)

[loriladeakali]  

‘Happy early birthday’ Jensen: wait is that happening again… oh right it happens every year! (x)

Danneel kept Jensen up last night (x)

JA: I just want to tell fun, different stories with fun, different characters and I hope I am lucky to do this with great people (x)

Jensen was a “serial sneak-outer” as a kid, even did the thing where he’d fluff up a pillow under the bedclothes, then be out all night. For his kids, he’s joking he’ll have a high tech perimeter set up w motion detectors. “and they’ll probably just override the system!” (x)  Jensen, more seriously: I’ll tell them honestly the bad things that can happen, but also that I’ll be there for them always. And yeah I’ll put tracking devices on them  (miming shooting them with a dart gun with a GPS tag ) (x)

Q: where did the name Radio Company come from? JA: we were just thinking that we want to make the kind of music that can keep you company on the radio. And then we were like, whoa, that’s it, write that down!” (x)

Q about new projects. Jensen: Soldier Boy *might* be back (huge whoop from crowd - I don’t think the crowd [or Jensen] realize that Kripke’s already publicly stated that Soldier Boy will be back!) & I just signed a deal for a thing that will be announced next week   (x)

1 new detail re Soldier Boy: Jensen mentioned it as a possibility for “this year”. Could conceivably mean SB pops up in very late S4. The consensus in the Boys fandom has been that SB will return S5, but there’s speculation JA might be involved in S4 finale (just wild rumor tho) (x)

Future projects? Jensen: well if you noticed, at the end of season 3 of #TheBoys, Soldier Boy didn't die Also a new, secret project being announced probably next week (around Jensen's bday) (x)

JA, on new projects: Soldier Boy didn’t die, so that’s an option. I also have an announcement for a project coming next week, but it’ll leave you with more questions (x)

Q: What's next on his agenda? Answer: he basically confirmed soldier boy will be back and then he said he signed the deal (that we leave more questions) recently and announcment should happen NEXT WEEK !! (x)

JA: I’d love to work with Paul Newman, he was a great actor and had a great reputation (x)

Q: what past actor would you like to have worked with? Jensen: Paul Neumann. Great actor, I grew up watching his stuff, supposed to be a good guy (x)

A about fave US cities. Jensen: New Orleans for sure. San Fran. “LA’s just LA”  And there’s a lot of great small towns (x)

Jensen’s supposed to leave but he wants to spin the wheel. It is clearly going to land on Sing so he gives it a not very subtle nudge to land it on Drink (x)

(JIB)

[inkyblinders]

Dancing with the Devil: Part II

Part 1

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

Author’s note: This was so embarrassing to write not because of smut...but because I’m crushing hard on Adrien Brody right now. And I can’t even share this obsession with anyone because… he’s kinda niche? Someone please reassure me that I’m just going through a phase because dear God why can’t I stop watching Darjeeling Limited just to see him ahhh.

The story picks up right after the end of Part 1, so I recommend reading that first. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think!

Summary: Following your meeting with Luca Changretta, you face the Shelby family and Tommy's reaction. (2.6k words)

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing

Tag: Let me know if you would like to be added or removed

@anythingwriter, @rrtxcmt, @shut-chan

_____________________________________________________________

You barely make it into your bedroom before he is all over you. The buttons of his crisp, tailored shirt fall like marbles. He moans when you nip the skin of his neck, right over his tattoo of the black cross, legs tangled together like a depraved waltz.

When he grinds into you, you shudder deliciously at the hardness that meets between your bare thighs.

How easy would it be for him to kill you after he fucks you, leaving your corpse twisted in the bedsheets. You know Tommy would find it when he eventually remembers that he has not seen you for days.

“Signorita, you know I come to you with the most honorable of intentions.” He murmurs, as if sensing your thoughts.

“You're not a very honorable man then.” A laugh that turns into a gasp as he trails his hand lower and strokes between your legs. No, not very honorable at all. And pretty soon all thoughts of honor are forgotten as he coaxes a moan from your throat.

His fingers are magic. The cold outline of his onyx rings scald your skin each time he crooks a finger inside you. Knowing exactly what you need, seeking your depths, swirling, rising to rub the clit, all the while exploring the flushed expanse of your body with his other hand.

Shoulder to breasts to hips and back again.

Without meaning to, you’ve let this stranger take control of your entire being. But God, do you crave this pure ecstasy.

It’s as if he wants to know precisely how much you can take before you're undone. So when you clench around his hand and feel the familiar ache he is right there, helping you ride the wave of pleasure, never breaking the rhythm of his thrusting fingers even as you curse, rake your nails down his back.

You almost cry out his name when you come. But you bite into his shoulder instead.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna have to hear you next time.” He growls.

His words barely register as you come down from the high. Aftershocks spark like tiny flames. Now you are wearing his scent as much as he is wearing yours.

“Be inside me,” You whimper, tugging at his soft hair, urging him for more.

He rasps an empty warning, “What's my name, sweetheart?”

Of course. All this time you've never acknowledged you know of his identity. There was no use in trying to hide it now.

“Luca,” you breathe. And his eyes gleam with approval.

With a snap of his hips, he plunges into silky warmth. The fullness stretches you to your limit, head thrown back. It’s good, so good. Every withdrawal of his thrust is a blessing because you know what follows next. It’s him inside you again, wrapping you with his touch and the scent of tobacco and roses.

“Does your Tommy fuck you like this? Like the way I do?”

“He’s not mine.” You choke out, punishing Luca with a bite on the neck that elicits a chuckle rather than a yelp of pain.

He kisses you, your foreheads pressed together. “A damn shame for him.” Soon he starts to quicken his pace, going faster, more erratic, his breathing heavy upon your ears.

Yes, you urge him, come on, now.

And this is your chance. In a flash you roll on top of him, pinning down his shoulders with your hands. He tries to arch up but you stop him with a knee.

“How many men did you bring, Changretta?” You ask, making your voice rough to mask the lust, pressing your hands around his jugular.

It's a pleasure to see him like this. Shocked at your actions, maybe even scared. Naked with want but unable to do anything to relieve it. Unless he tells the truth.

“Fifteen. Why baby, am I not enough for you?” He laughs breathlessly, hands trailing goosebumps along your hips, tracing the contour of your breasts. The jib doesn't hurt you. After all, men have said worse. He tries to surge into you again, and his hot member pulses on your thighs.

“Do you swear on your honor? That you’re telling the truth?” You insist, squeezing him harder. The touch brands his skin as much as it brands yours.

In a voice full of self-mockery he says, “Yes I swear on my honor. Now let me in, clever Isabel.”

You take him in you, the sensations amplify a thousandfold. You try teasing him, going slowly in and out, but soon you are caught up in the sensation of him completely at your mercy and you ride him, faster, until you keen his name, until he too is undone.

****

Through the haze of dawn, he stumbles out of bed and gets dressed. Before he dons his hat once more, Luca leans down to whisper in your ear, as soft as sin.

“You tell Tommy Shelby he may expect a visitor in the night. I'm coming for him as the angel of death. The vendetta has begun…” He kisses your hair.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

The door clicks shut. You rise from your pillow, and a small, hard lump rolls next to your hand.

It is a signet ring of onyx and gold.

****

“So we all get a death letter from the mafia, but Izzy gets jewelry?” Ada huffs as the family filters into the betting shop. As usual, Tommy holds court at the front of the table, brooding over a glass of whiskey. You roll your eyes as Arthur and John try to cover their snort of laughter with a cough.

“If you want it, you can have it, Ada. He’s probably planning on killing me too.”

“Doubt it. You’re not a Shelby, and we’re the ones who killed his father. Well, someone did, to be precise.” She shoots a bitter look at Tommy, who doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Despite Ada’s matter-of-fact tone, the words cut to your heart. Not a Shelby.

It’s not her fault. No one knows you’ve been sleeping with Tommy, not even your dearest friend. It’s a lonely secret to keep, but at least you can look at the family square in the eye and not have to worry about the things they say behind your back. Or worse, pity you.

You can handle the violence and moral ambiguity of Tommy’s business. But to lose the love and respect of the Shelbys would break your heart.

“What was the mafia man like, Izzy?” Finn asks eagerly. It’s obvious the boy is thinking of the dashing, gun-wielding gangsters he’s seen in the pictures.

“He was a wrinkly old brute. Kind of like your arsehole brother Tommy.” A smile to take the edge off the insult. But Tommy only looks off into space. As if he hasn't paid attention to this entire conversation.

Arthur clears his throat. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. It was me who pulled the trigger on his dad, so the blame falls on me.” He pats Linda’s hand even as his voice is heavy with guilt.

“No one’s blaming you Arthur, you weren’t the brains behind the operation, no offense.” Ada says. He is about to say something when Polly cuts in.

“Stop squabbling like children. We’ve all voted for truce, despite everything Tommy’s done to us—” The words nearly having us hanged hover pointedly in the air. “—So let’s focus on the matter at hand." She fixes Tommy with a sharp look.

“What’s the news from Camden Town? Will Solomons help us?”

“No.” He says tiredly. And all of a sudden you feel sorry for teasing him. He look gaunt. There are shadows under his eyes, even more so than usual. Without you to remind him to eat, you can imagine his diet for the past few days consisted more of alcohol and cigarettes than anything substantial.

“Spent three hours on a fucking tour of his bakery and another pretending to drink his piss-poor rum. I think he was trying to get me sloshed so I’d forget what I came for.” Tommy rubs his head.

“He’s refusing to send his men to help. Said he’s not going to go after another oppressed people.”

“Did you tell him the Italians are rounding up Jews in their country as we speak?” Polly asks incredulously.

“Wouldn’t make a difference to Alfie. Besides, that’s just an excuse. He’s really just a fucking coward.”

Polly looks troubled at this, as does the rest of the family. Everyone had been counting on Alfie’s friendship with Tommy, however peculiar, to help them with the vendetta. What they hadn’t expected was his extreme sense of self-perseverance. How are they going to protect themselves now?

“Before everyone panics, I’d like to say something.” Tommy clears his throat, setting down the whisky.

“As you may all know, two nights ago our Izzy encountered Mr. Changretta in the Garrison. He bought her a drink and asked her to deliver an official beginning of the vendetta.” He chooses this time to finally look at you. You hold his gaze until he looks shiftily away.

“We can also assume that he has been scoping out Small Heath, looking for any weaknesses on our turf. Now, Izzy has something to share with you all.”

You stand up uncertainly. The last time a woman other than Polly tried to speak her mind at the table it had been Esme, who still refuses to come to the betting shop unless Tommy is not here.

“While Mr. Changretta was, er, indisposed at the Garrison, I found some items in his coat that I think could be useful.” You fish out a passport and a stack of papers from your skirt pockets.

“Good job, Izzy! Oh, I knew we could count on you more than my idiot brother.” Ada beams.

“Becoming a right little spy, eh?” John ruffles your hair good-naturedly. As everyone gathers around, Polly gives a low whistle.

“Goodness, if this is your definition of an ugly brute, I wonder who’ll really catch your fancy, darling.”

You flush. The documents were obtained shortly after Luca had fallen asleep. It was an exercise in agility, trying to extricate yourself from his tangle of limbs, especially when you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, encased in his warmth.

To your own credit, the papers were highly useful indeed. Some were maps of Birmingham, circles drawn in places where the Shelbys are known to frequent. The Garrison. Charlie’s Yard. The Arrow House. There was also stationary from The Stanton, a hotel just outside of the city.

There had been another piece of paper in the stack, a letter. But you kept that for yourself.

“We all have Izzy to thank for bringing us this valuable information.” Tommy’s voice rises above the chatter. “I will be personally examining all the documents and think of a plan. In the meantime, everyone stay alert, stay armed, and stay together.”

“Now if no one has any further questions, I need to have a private word with her. Alone.”

*****

You twirl the onyx ring around your finger as everyone filters out. It’s much too big but you still wear it anyways. The thick band of gold is comforting in its own way. And despite what you told Ada earlier, you don’t want to give it to anyone else.

Tommy’s curt voice snaps you from your reverie.

“Was it good, then?”

A small muscle tics on the underside of his jaw. His previously blank expression is now cold. The coward in you compels you to feign ignorance.

“What do you mean, Tommy?” You ask lightly.

“Did it feel good to have that fucking wop inside you?”

You burst out laughing. “Christ, Tommy. Did you pick up that word from Alfie? You sound bloody ridiculous when you’re trying to be crass, you know.”

“Don’t fucking change the subject, Isabel.” Tommy snaps.

“Oh, so I’m Isabel, now? You only call me that when you’re trying to get me in bed. Is that what you want? A bit early in the evening if you ask me.”

“What I want for you is to tell me how it felt having that man inside you, inside---”

You blaze with anger. “My sex life is none of your business, even if you are an occasional participant. I did what you would have wanted, and now I’ve got intel on the Changrettas that could save your arse!”

“Do you know how dangerous it could have been? Fraternizing with the enemy is exactly what got us into trouble with the Changrettas!”

“And fraternizing with them again has given us an advantage. We know how many associates he’s brought with him, and where they are staying. Good God,” Your eyes widen as you see the mutinous look on Tommy’s face. “Are you jealous?”

The silence of the room presses in until it's almost palpable. Finally he rubs a hand over his eyes, looking utterly defeated.

“I have no right to.” He says, pained. “But I am, just the same.”

The admission of his feelings would have made your heart soar a few days ago, before you met a man who enchanted you in the Garrison. You only laugh bitterly.

“What makes this different from all those other times you made me seduce the men you wanted to spy on?”

He says nothing. But what else is there to say? The past is in the past, and so many hurts have been caused by the both of you, it would be impossible to untangle it all.

You soften your voice, laying a hand on Tommy's arm.

“Let me continue seeing him. He wants me, and we can use that. You know it will be help, you know it might save us all.”

A breath flutters in your chest as you wait for his decision. If Tommy allows it, you’ll do it in a heartbeat. The Shelbys are your family, whether you're one in name or not.

But if he refuses, then perhaps… Perhaps he might actually care for you, deeper than jealousy, deeper than he admits.

“Very well.” Tommy says finally, and something in your heart shatters. The corners of your mouth curve up in a wobbly smile.

“Thank you for trusting me, Tommy. I won’t let you down.”

“You would never let me down, no matter what you do. Just…Be careful, Izzy.”

He closes the distance between you and enfolds you in a hug. You enjoy this quiet warmth, as fragile as spider's silk. With a small laugh, you pull away, patting his arm before turning to the door.

You don't look back to see if he follows.

[tangledinmdzs]

nobody’s town - xue yang hc

running away from home with xue yang 

the sky is darkening, sun setting bruising the sky in dark hues of purple, orange and pink

you lean on the handle of your bike, as a gentle almost spring breeze pushes your hair out of your face

the streets of your small suburban town are empty now, 

as expected

as always expected

life in this town was monotonous, cyclic, repetitive

no this town was not boring

this town was stagnant

even after living here for so many years, raised on the same streets

there was nothing melancholy about the dullness that you saw all these years

everything had always been the same as it had always been

and honestly you didn’t even think there was something wrong with that

but then, one day, you meet to Xue Yang

he didn’t fit in, never had ever since the day that he had moved here all those years ago

he wasn’t like everybody else

if the his dark ensemble, crooked smile and suspicious baggage was anything to go by

your parents warned you not to get too close with flitting looks and stares

you friends would make passing remarks and jibs if you happened to see each other in the school halls

but now, as you’re peddling your bike after dwindling rays of sun light, you’re glad that you never really heeded their words

the small backpack on your back thumps lightly against your spine as you pedal a bit faster 

you reach the end of your street just as evening is setting in around you

the corner that you know so well suddenly feels ominous at this later time

you stand, waiting

the sounds of the night drift through the air, clearer now that you were standing outside and not in the comfort, easy comfort, of your normal bedroom

in the time that you wait, you briefly wonder, if it was a mistake to run away

follow a boy you barely knew,

out to somewhere you don’t know any better

but you end up pushing away the doubts that you’ve created

because, after all, even if you stayed here

what would be left for you?

you also don’t have time to turn around and rethink this whole running away idea when another shadow bikes up to you from the opposite side of your street

Xue Yang’s bike is similar to yours, a bit older and rickety, so the sound you can hear come from a few feet away

he pedals close to you, stopping by your side just as the evening begins transitioning to true night time

“took you long enough,” you tell him, slightly annoyed at having been made to wait

he gives you a pearly white smile under the dim headlights of your small town

“just follow me,” Xue Yang doesn’t so much as elaborate before pedaling off again

you blink at him, his little fanfare, his little care, 

turn back one last time to look at the street that you had always known, different in a new way under the cover of night now

and then you turn back around, 

you pedal after him

[whatsarasaid]

title: the interview. fandom: control. rating: general audiences. word count: approx. 1100. characters: dr. casper darling, jesse faden, dylan faden.

Ordinary, Maine.

Darling loved it. The name. It was overly on-the-nose, bringing him a strange childish delight. The only thing that could have made it better was if it were Wisconsin or something. Cheese curds and cows and Midwest monotony would have further sharpened the contrast.

Though, judging by the sleepiness, this particular New England town wasn’t too far off. The Federal-style architecture gave it a sense of primness it had no right to possess. The dilapidated gas station on the corner certainly took away from the red brick and cream eaves. Somewhat Idyllic But Mostly Boring Until Very Recently, MI, he renamed it in his head. If the place still wanted to be literal with its naming conventions, things would have to change.

Darling chunked open the metal door of the school, case files and morning coffee in hand. Their makeshift headquarters was comprised of hijacked teachers’ desks and heavy equipment crates. Personnel was busy scribbling and typing, diligently working to solve. Twenty-four hours straight of swabbing surfaces, collecting samples, and snapping pictures, but the question of what caused the AWE remained unanswered.

Time to pick through the human data.

Primary sources were rich with information, responding to direct questions with direct answers. The quantitative—statistics, algorithms—gave scientific discovery validity and generalizability. But it was through the qualitative—observation, interviews—that theories were born. Unfortunately, every adult in Ordinary up and vanished rapture-style, meaning all witnesses were under sixteen. And likely, new orphans.

Darling knew absolutely nothing about children, his work was his offspring, but he knew the devastation an AWE could bring. He caught sight of the kids through the gym windows yesterday. They were sitting on rows of military cots with their khaki blankets and emergency Dopp kits, waiting until they could be questioned by the FBC and processed by the Office of Children and Family Services. None of their personal belongings could be released until they had been screened for possible Altered Items or OOPs.

These interviews would be undoubtedly bleak.

The first subjects were the Faden siblings. An agent reported they’d began frantically babbling about a landfill the moment the FBC showed up at their door and so were moved to the front of the line.

Follow the strangeness.

That was how this worked.

Darling frowned at his lab coat, wrinkled from the drive. White coats held power. Sometimes inciting trust, but other times ire. Didn’t most people like doctors? Hopefully, the children would. Even if he was the research kind. He straightened his bowtie.

He found the Fadens in the kindergarten classroom, where they'd been told to wait. They weren’t as young as he thought they'd be, but what had he expected? Infants? He needed to brush up on his human development. They sat in primary-colored bean bags. The younger, the boy, was staring out a window, picking at the bag’s seams. The older, the girl, was stiff beside him, sharp eyes clicking to Darling when he walked in.

Darling gave them what he considered to be his most unoffending smile.

The girl frowned.

Darling scanned for a chair but found somebody had robbed the teacher’s desk of its adult-sized one. He resorted to dragging a miniature plastic stool in front of the kids and crunching himself onto it, knees almost to his chest, coffee and case files an awkward pile in his lap. “Good morning. I lead the scientists studying your home. I hear you have some interesting information for me.”

The boy turned and blinked at him with owlish eyes.

It was the girl who spoke first, her voice quiet but resolute. Darling liked the cut of her jib. “We know what caused everything. We found a slide projector in the dump, after it got bigger.”

"The dump got bigger?"

"Yeah, bigger but the same. Deeper?"

Darling couldn’t put his coffee down fast enough. He ruffled in his chest coat pocket for a pen and scooched the stool closer, inciting two high-pitched squeals from the rubber-knobbed legs, eager to take notes. Silly of him to not bring a tape recorder. “Mm-hm, yes, go on.”

The girl eyed him, cagey again, “Each slide took us to, um, different places. The places weren’t here.”

"'Here' as in Ordinary?"

“No. Earth.”

Likely other dimensions. “How did that work?"

"We'd put in a slide, project it onto a wall, and just go through."

Definitely other dimensions. "Can you describe these other places?"

"They were all really weird. Some were scary."

The boy interrupted, “Do you know where our parents are?”

The girl snapped her mouth shut and wrinkled her nose, looking as if she were forcing back the sudden sting of tears.

“No,” Darling said gently. As he noted earlier: bleak. “I don’t. But that’s the thing about the scientific process: it can lead to all sorts of discoveries. Maybe even the location of your parents. I can’t make any promises, though.”

The boy nodded solemnly, “Tom thought the Not-Mother took them.”

Darling’s mind reeled as he scribbled notes. 'Not-Mother' had been mentioned in the police reports. Was it an entity they found through the alternate dimensions in the slide projector? Their nickname for something else? What motives did it have in taking the adults? If any? Dear God, so many questions all at once, branching and vining in a thousand directions.

"Where's Tom? In the gym? I'd like to speak with him, too."

The children exchanged looks but said nothing.

Darling peeked at his wristwatch. They would need more than their scheduled fifteen minutes. Much more. He needed to call Trench and deploy a team to the local landfill ASAP. Before anyone else got sucked into a different dimension and met this ‘Not-Mother.’ They should probably just transport the whole site to the Oldest House for safety since it evidently...shifts. What an endeavor. He’d have to lead that. Someone else—a child psychologist, probably—should finish interviewing the kids. They'd better know how to navigate the delicacies of their experience while retrieving the needed information.

As if on cue, the boy’s stomach warbled a growl. Some positive reinforcement might be in order before Darling subjected them to a marathon of questions. A Paranatural Aptitude Assessment would be wise, too. He had a feeling he’d be getting to know the Fadens quite well.

Darling clapped the file shut, “I haven’t had breakfast yet. Have you?”

The children shook their heads no.

“Let’s go get some cereal,” he said, gathering his pile and inelegantly pulling himself up from the stool, “Or muffins. Do you like muffins?"

The boy followed.

The girl did not.

“Come on,” he called to her as he jerked his head toward the door, “After we eat, I'm going to introduce you to more people who can help. You’ll be having lots more talks with them.”

She finally trailed after.

But not without giving him one final glance.

[adultswim2021]

The Finkel Files | July 18, 2002 - 3:30 AM | Special

There is no hell in Judaism. Therefore, one must be created. That is where the Finkel Files comes in.

Finkel Files is about a young boy named Joshua Finkel attending Rabbi school, which is also a summer camp. Young Joshua doesn't actually want to be a rabbi. In fact, he'd rather be a rock musician. In this pilot episode Joshua's love of playing rock music is barely explored, instead it's a story about him and his friend, an extremely orthodox little guy, being bullied into building a raft so they can go across the lake to have sex with Catholic teenage girls.

There's a lot of Jewish humor in this, and there's sex-related jokes that exist in that weird grey area of being too juvenile to exist on Adult Swim and a little too risque to air on children's television. There's a lotta circumcision jokes, which I always find a little puzzling when it's so clearly claimed as being a Jewish thing. I'm far from Jewish, and grew up in a shitkickin' retarded redneck town where everyone was cult-member-level Christian, and my dick and every other dick I sucked, I mean, saw, was cut. They cut all them little boy dicks. I literally never even saw an uncircumcised dick till I was in my 30s while watching some European pornography. Circumcision jokes are like the Israel of dick jokes, if you think about it. I’m not elaborating on this, because I don’t want my blog to get deleted.

Anyway, this fucking sucks. It sucks so fucking much. It's easily the worst Adult Swim original to air up until this point. I know what'll unseat it eventually, and good lord, I am not looking forward to it. But this is one of the most laughless eleven-and-a-half minutes I've ever spent. I've seen this maybe three times now and it's about four times too many.

Created and written by Adam Mutterperl, who has this entire pilot on Vimeo. I once characterized him as a guy who probably pestered Jewish day camps into letting him show this pilot and doing a Q&A. I bet he's done a few of those, and I'm sure it goes over okay with kids of a certain age. I did a little digging and found out he's written on various bad late night talk shows, and he wrote for (gulp) jib jab, one of my most hated comedy creations on earth. But, he seems like he's doing better than me. Good for him.

MAIL BAG

Anonymous writes:

What's your beef with ToonZone? I knowing having a messageboard dedicated to talking about cartoon is inherently a little silly but it's probably was the most thoughtful and intelligent one going. Walked a perfect line between blind fandom and willful contrarianism. If you don't like that then too bad. Eggos for you.

Oh, I don’t have much of a beef with ToonZone. Part of me just got swept up in the fact that I posted on a different, COOLER message board than them. They seemed like the enemy because they were a more successful version of the board I posted on. There were also a lot of genuine dorks on there. Also a high-level poster there called my wife a cunt once (I’m not joking about this lol).

I guess if push comes to shove I’m pro-ToonZone because when I did research for this project initially they were a very consistent source for air-date information. I got all my Capt. Linger dates (and other stuff) from just chronologically making my way through review threads. It’s an important resource for sure. But yeah, the people.

Anonymous writes:

Brak is for babies. Anyone whose defending it is still a baby. The only thing that keeps this from being on regular cartoon network is that the animation is shit and Zorak sometimes says something nasty/sexual especially to Brak's mom. Fuck this show. Worse than Mr. Pickles by a longshot.

I do wish they’d just bleep out Zorak’s mean-ness and play it on Nick Jr. or some shit. Just imagine face introducing it. New promos of Brak and that big frog from Gullah Gullah Island hanging out. What an ideal world that would be.

Anonymous writes:

Hi the Brak Voting guy again. You have turned the tables on me I see. Wow. I never thought I would be the one getting questions. Makes me feel like a big guy. Also, whose that woman who asked about me? Can we connect somehow. I live in Michigan if that helps. Anyway, I would vote for Galrog. Brak's Dad would lose interest a week past inauguration. He's a very fickle character. This is my honest opinion so you can't get mad at it. You have to respect the honesty. Hook me up with that broad.

Hey man, nice to hear from you. Sorry I came down hard. I’m also a Galrog guy and I was only guarded with my opinion because, and I’m sorry for saying this, but you came off as a Dad supporter and those people are literally fucking nazis. But I made a mistake and I’m sorry and to make it up to you I’m going to let you fuck that woman

Kon writes:

I've KIND OF come around on this era of Birdman. Not my cup of tea but no real reason to be mad at it. Some jokes are fine even! I'm gonna check out Jagged Edge becuz of you

Yeah, I agree it’s nothing to be mad at, but I sure don’t particularly like it! Also Jagged Edge is solid, it’s once of those movies that people online are always like “ah they don’t make ‘em like this anymore! movies for adults! yeah baby! do I make you horny baby??” but then some people see it and they get a little too excited watching it and they have to be like “MARGARET THATCHER ON A COLD DAY MARGARET THATCHER ON A COLD DAY”

[mrmethbook]

             Chapter 2, First test and none of the rest.

WORNING!!!;...THIS POST MAY BE A TRIGGER TO ANYONE WITH PRIOR MATH HISTORY.

Finley after leaving that never-ending situation, Mr. Later tells me to do the usual driving maneuvers. Turn here, turn there, turn around here. 

After all of that, he tells me to drive out of town toward the old drive-in.

Heading out that way, he tells me. “Do you remember when I mentioned (misdirection is key) Bone’s, you’ll hear me tell you such and such is a key. Mr. Bone’s this is one of those times.

These things I tell you are keys to this little big city. Those such and such are like keys on a keychain, there the keys that will open the doors to this dark world.

“I’m teaching you these things to not only keep you safe. But more importantly, in this case, to keep me safe which is always most important. Understand?” He asks.

Do I understand? Fuck yeah I understand, you're talking straight and not all that twisted jib-talk*. I think to myself.

Looking at him I simply nod, then I tell him in an almost mocking tone of voice. “Yeah, I understand there like keys on a keychain, or like tools to use at my discretion.”

“Bone’s I can't stand a mockingbird, I go out of my way to swat the little bastards with my favorite tennis racket every damn time I hear one.” He tells me with a hornet's sting to his voice.

Then after what felt like four hours. But in actual none jib-time* is only a half an hour.

“Pull in the lane on the right-hand side just after the old drive-in,” Mr. Later tells me.

Pulling into the lane I notice a no trespassing sign that reads. IF YOU COME ON MY PROPERTY. I'LL SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE!!!. 

I also notice three vehicles for sale out front by the road. The first one I notice is a rusted out chevy cavalier, the second car is an old station wagon with no front bumper and is packed full of styraphome. Last I see a  

7

GMC Vandura A-Team van. It's black and red with the spoiler and everything, the only difference is there are no tires or rims on the van.

The lane is a half-mile off the road, with water-filled potholes, a few left and right turns. Both sides of the lane consist of treelines on both sides and cornfields as far as the eye can see. 

    I hope I never get lost and spun out here. It would be a horrifying labyrinth of lostness.

    The lane ends in what looks like tall junkyard fencing, its twenty feet tall and keeps on going into the blistering horizon.

    Pulling up to the metal fence I look to my left then to my right. All I can see is a twenty~foot wall as far as I can see.

    What in the hell kind of place is this? I ask myself.

    Sitting in the truck waiting for my next order, I notice a big ass pile of pop cans the size of a large dog house. Mr. Later tells me to turn off the truck, I have no idea what's going to happen next.

    “Well Bone’s first things first let's get high, but before we turn the bolts on this monster meth 

machine, I’m going to show you how to make your very own smoking bulb.” He tells me with a sideshow doctor’s demeanor.

    “Have you ever smoked meth out of a light bulb before boy?” I’m asked.

    “I've heard about using a light bulb, personally I've only used aluminum foil,” I tell him with immediate regret because of the look of, You fucking dumbass, is all across his face.

    By the look on my face, I can tell he knows I have no idea why he's making that face for.

    How in the hell am I supposed to know why in the fuck you're making that face for, no ones ever told me about any of this shit before. Of course, I don't tell him this.

    “You fucking tard aluminum foil gives you Alzheimers you dip shit, hasn't anyone ever told you anything before?” The calculative criminal asks me.

    I can tell this is coming from a man with no personal interest and has been in the jib-field* for many man-hours and light-years.

    “Well Bone’s today's your lucky day, I’m going to show you first hand how to make your very own smoking bulb.” The self~made man tells me.

    “Let's get out of the truck. We'll need adequate construction space, we’ll have to use the hood of your truck to complete this unforgettable feat.” He instructs me with an erector set master prowess.

    Getting out of my truck, I walk to the front hood of my S10 truck.

    “This is my M.T.S. Bone’s, or its also known as my mini~twak~sack*. Every Jib~Gyver* is required to own one, they're very important to tweakers all across the land.” Mr. Later tells me while taking off his camo fanny pack from his shoulder, it has pockets all the way around the fanny pack.

    I give him an inquiring look. 

    “This is what I keep all my tweek shit in.” I’m told with lowered eyebrows. ”What the hell else would it be.” He finished with panther in his voice. 

    Standing in front of my truck, Mr. Later perseids to start taking various items out of his M.T.S. 

                                                        8

He starts pulling out a brand new light bulb, needle nose pliers, salt shaker and one small hand torch. Amongst other miscellaneous tweek-tools*. He lays these items across my truck hood like a surgeon getting ready to perform surgery on his grandmother's favorite poodle.

    “I don't know if that rattle brain of yours can handle any more priceless knowledge Bone’s, are you ready?” He asks me with an all~knowing tone.

    “Yes Mr. Later, I’m always ready to learn, like they say knowledge is power right?” I tell the wisdom maker.

    “That's the smartest thing I think I’ve heard you say, boy.” He tells me with a sly smile across his graces.

    With bulb in one hand and needle-nose pliers in the other, holding the bulb upside down, he starts to tell me. “The first thing I’m going to show you is that you have to smash the dark glass with the side of your pliers when the dark glass is smashed you have to take off the flat round metal tab.”

    “Then use the needle nose part of the pliers to dig out the dark glass, making a circular motion until all the glass falls out, all that should be left is the lighting element that's inside of the glass bulb.” Mr. Later the magician shows me so I’ll wont have to relearn the precious process ever again. 

    At this point, I’m looking at him in awe like a magician's apprentice.

    “Now it's time to remove the lighting element, to do this you have to insert the tip of the needle-nose pliers into the newly made hole, once again make a circular motion breaking the lighting element, Make sure to be extra careful not to break the glass of the light bulb, it's easy to break around the light socket part.” He shows me on the bulb exactly where not to break.

    “Once the element is broken you have to shake all the glass out of the bottom of the bulb when the glass is all out,  there is a wire that is attached to the sidewall of the bulb, use the needle-nose pliers to break the wire-free.” Once again he shows me the wire, he breaks the wire, so I can see it.

    “After the wire is broken, its time to shack out the lighting element. Now for the salt shaker, pour some salt into the light bulb, it won't take much, put your thumb over the hole and shake until all the white coating is off the sides of the glass.” While doing this, Mr. Later continues showing me while he works his magic.

    “If you don't get all the salt out it will leave little black burnt specks inside the bulb when you use it, then you’ll waste your dope.” Mr. Later tells me.

    With mouth dropped I soak up the knowledge like a sponge, lighting the small hand torch he tells me. “Now this is the most important part, the carb. If you want a good blast you have to have good airflow like a fuel-injected carburetor on a 440 engine.” I'm told with precision.

    Putting the opening of the bulb to his mouth. He starts to blow constant pressure into the bulb with his mouth, then he puts the tip of the torch flame on one spot of the glass, making tiny circular motions.” The constant pressure in the bulb and the heat of the flame will pop a hole in the glass after a few seconds.” The glassmaker shows me the technique.

                                                         9

    After a few seconds, I hear a pop, the hole popped out of the glass like a rabbit popping out of a magician's hat.

    Mr. Later looks over the beautiful bulb for any modifications like a new mother looking to see if she has a six-fingered newborn baby.

    Mr. Later tells me. “Now we arrive at the final conclusion, the most important part, getting high as fuck.”

    “If I’m packing* the bulb your smoking the dope till it's all gone.” I’m told with wide eyes.

    “Of course I’ll be showing you first hand how to properly get a blast from the present past.” He tells me smiling.

    “If you're a fast learner you’ll learn to melt the dope and not burn it up.” I’m told from the criminal savant.

    “You smoke the hell out of the jib* while I go to meet some ignorant fool that's interested in buying one of the lemons for sale out by the road.” He tells me.

    How could I possibly say no to that, free meth, you can count me in.” I think to myself.

    But instead, I tell Mr. Later. “okay sounds good to me. When do I start.”

    “If that's what you want, let's get started.” He tells me while pouring methamphetamine a third the way full in the light bulb.

    “Bone’s I’ll hit the bulb a few times so you can get the jest of this precious process of never~ending endurance.” He tells me while hitting the bulb a few times in a row.

    Each time Mr. Later puff twist, puff twist, then he blows out a cloud of smoke so big I want to catch it in a ziplock baggie to save for later.

    “I'm going to leave you to the jib~vices* while I use your truck to go meet those dumb fucks that want to buy one of my shitty cars.” He tells me more then asks.

     Mr. Later puts away his tweek tools into his M.T.S, then slides into my truck without a second thought.

    Pulling down the lane Mr. Later slows to a stop in front of me. “Hay Bone’s if you get a chance between hits, sort that big ass pile of pop cans into the five~gallon buckets by the fence, if you don’t forget to put the bulb down it will send you into a time warp, Okay?” He tells me pointing at the pile of cans.

    “One more thing, don't let oblivion drag into its undertow of impending darkness.” Then he pulls down the lane humming that song again.

                                                 ~Mr. Later at his finest~

    Pulling down the lane Mr. Later thinks to himself. If this one passes the first test he's lucky he has a strong mind. That's the real test.

    Almost to the front of the lane, he sees a creepy looking van with the front passenger side fender taken off so the tweekers can scrap the metal to buy Mr. Later his L7s*.

                                                                     10

                             

    Thanking to himself. I love a tweeker that will do whatever it takes to get my beans*. It brings warm fuzzy feelings to my heart.

    Parking the truck, Mr. Later sees a pure twack~star* of a sub~human experiment gone way to wrong standing by the rust bucket of a Chevy Cavalier for sale.

    The creature has a headlamp on his head and a bandana covering the lower portion of its face, the scarrow crow of a man has a twack~sack with what looks like tweek~tools spilling out everywhere as he moves. This is all happening right in broad daylight.

    My kind of twack~ien* if you ask me.

    Slick Eddy stops whatever in the hell he was doing, then he walks straight for the truck.

    Slick Eddy yells. “YO LATER IS THIS CAR FOR SALE.” The dumb fuck yells at the top of his lungs.

    “That's what the sign says don't it, you remedial shit.” Mr. Later tells him in a shitty voice.

    Then Mr. Later hears someone yell from the creepy~ass van. “Hurry up, we have to go.”

    “I thought I told you to leave your sideshow of a wife at home you fuck, she creeps me out.” Mr. Later tells Eddy with spital coming out of his mouth.

    “You know how bitches are, they always have to come, or else.” The side-show tells Mr. Later. 

    “I got your box’s*of pseudoephedrine.” ecactuly at that moment Mr. Later cuts him off. “HAY YOU NUMBNUT FUCK, I’ve told you to call them L7s if you can't do that then kick rocks, you none remembering mother fucker.”

    Then Slick Eddy tells him. “Sorry, Mr. Later won't happen again.” Then he asks. “Don't you have a daughter?”

    “FUCK NO I DON'T HAVE A DAUGHTER AND WHAT IN THE HELL DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING YOU SLIMY SHIT!!” Mr. Later yells at him.

    Mr. Later hears the other sideshow in the front seat of the van say. “I told you he doesn't have a daughter Eddy.”

    Slick Eddy turns back around yelling at his fat ass whale of a wife. “Shut the fuck up you fat bitch and quite picking the dogs face, it looks like mutilated monkey meat and your the silverback gorilla, you stupid cunt,” Then she just goes back to picking the dogs face.

    “Eddy put the L7s in the floorboard of the Cavalier. "What you're looking for is in the console of the van, no, not your van you dumb shit, how could it be in your van already?” Mr. Later tells Slick Eddy when he starts for his own van.

    Looking over at Eddy’s van Mr. Later tells him. “Never bring that fat ass whale blubber of a wife here again.If you do I'll shoot her with a harpoon, do you understand me, you creep show?” Slick Eddy’s told by the striking viper that's sliding into the S10 truck.

    Pulling back down the lane Mr. Later hears a dog howling like he just got his nuts frozen to the train tracks. I wonder if Bone’s has sorted and counted the cans if he has I’ll be spunder~struck*.

                                           11

    

When Mr. Later pulls down the lane I look at the bulb in my hand thanking. It's time to find out what smoking meth out of a bulb is all about.

    I start hitting the bulb making sure I don't let the flame touch the glass of the bulb. just like Mr. Later showed me.

    I start puffing and twisting, puffing and twisting, my mind into a stuttering light speed.

    Then finally I look over to notice the pile of smashed cans the size of a large dog house.

    I look at the bulb, then back again, finally it clicks.

    The pile of cans Mr. Later asked me to sort them into the five~gallon buckets while he’s off doing whatever in the hell he's doing.

    Personally, at this point, I don't give two shits. I think to myself. If this is obvilion I’m holding on with my two hands and one of yours, never letting go.

    After two more hits, I sit the bulb down looking at the row of buckets against the fence. There are different kinds of pop/beer cans nailed above each bucket, Coca Cola, Budweiser, and A.&.W cream soda.

    At this point, I start sorting the cans at sub~jib light speed with complete one hundred percent accuracy of three~handed precision, after what felt like five minutes of frisbee tossing, in actuality is forty~five minutes of hindsight what the fucks.

    What in the hell is time when shit is this fun?

    After playing frisbee, I walk over to the five~gallon buckets, looking in them, I realize each 

bucket looks like they have the exact same amount it each of them.

    For just a second’s pause, I think. Is this me looking too far into this hole, the same amount of cans in the bucket thing? I ask myself.

    I start to count each bucket of cans. The first bucket has 23 cans, the second bucket has 23 cans, the third bucket has the same. Why 23 cans in each. I wonder.

   There must be 23 cans in each bucket. I assume.

    Looking up I see Mr. Later parking the truck, the first thing he asks is. “How many cans in each bucket Bone’s?”

    I look back at him with a quizzical gaze.

    He asks again. “Damn it boy, how many canes Bone’s?” This time he asks more intently.

He asks again. “Damn it boy, how many canes Bone’s?” This time he asks more intently.

    “23,” I answer him with a, I know I’m right kind of ring to it.

    Mr. Later strikes back with. “No you fuck 22cans in the fifth bucket, Why didn't you count each bucket, you wanting to get back to your bulb on the brain time?”

    I came straight back with. “Fuck no I didn't count them all, it would have taken too much time from what did you call it, My very own personal downward spiral,” I tell him.

    Mr. Later thinks to himself. This one put down the bulb long enough to sort the cans, just the fact that he put the bulb down means he might just have the right kind of mind for this lifestyle if he's lucky.

                                           12

    Mr. Later simply tells me. ”Mr. Bone’s like you told me earlier, without knowledge you have no power of the mind. Is that what you have a weak mind? People with weak minds are something I do not keep around me, or my family, that's for damn sure.” He tells me with a matter of fact tone of voice.

     Family? I wonder.

“Well Bone’s, are you ready for this fractured wonder opera adventure I’m calling a mishap?” He asks me while waiting for my answer.

    “Why not, I like adventures,” I tell him, with the thought of family still spinning in my revolving brain.

    “Boy, this is going to be one hell of an adventure. I can guarantee that.” Mr. Later tells me with his Grinch smile.

    “Get the hell in the truck, I’m taking you in. Not too many make it past the gate, although you may have the right kind of eyebrows to continue on this slaughterhouse adventure of twist and turns you'll never forget in a million meth years.” He tells me with a showmen's smile.

    I start my truck while he opens the gate, then he waves me in.

[recurring-polynya]

Saw your tags on the 6th Div's artwork and man, not to sound dramatic (still a bit is ngl) but if you ever write something about Ginrei and/or Soujun, know that I'll love you forever ! ;v; They deserve more love ;A;

I am working on a Ginrei story!!

Okay, right now, I am about halfway through the next story in my RenRuki slow-burn epic, The Heart is a Muscle, which was supposed to be about Rukia passing the vice-captain’s exam, but has somehow become about Byakuya facing all the grief he’s suppressed for the last 150 years (it’s a comedy, obvs). It somehow now incorporates a whole-ass Hisana backstory and I had to make up a name for Byakuya’s grandmom/Ginrei’s wife (she’s super dead), which is why I was doing Kuchiki research. If anyone’s interested, I ended up naming her Sonoyo, which means “night garden”, and shares the character for ‘night’ with Byakuya’s name, since all the men in his line have colors in their name, I don’t even speak Japanese, how did I get like this?? Ginrei gets mentioned a lot, as Byakuya realizes that having a headstrong young shinigami in the house who wants to run around fighting people for $0 kinda sucks, actually, especially when you love that idiot young person and would like them not to die, and he sorta kinda, starts to have, like, a molecule of empathy for old Granddad.

ANYWAY, the next story after that is about Ginrei coming to town and making Byakuya miserable and I’ve already started it, even though I knew I shouldn’t’ve. Like all of my Kuchiki nonsense, it is Extremely Disrespectful-- I honestly can’t believe actual Byakuya fans like my writing, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I only love Byakuya because he is Awful, and I love Ginrei even more because he is like if you combined the Awfulness of Byakuya with the Awfulness of the Captain-Commander, that whole storyline with Kouga is my absolute fav. Anyhoo, G’s retired now, and living his best life. (I think Bleach Brave Souls finally came out and said he had died and I do not care, I do what I want).

We know absolutely nothing about Soujun except that he was adorable and he is dead, but he just seems So! Pure! I have made the point in my lt’s exam fic that one of the reasons Byakuya is being a butt about Rukia taking the exam is because Soujun died a vice-captain. If you have read my writing long enough, you will know that I sometimes get attached to random throwaway lines and eventually spin them out into short fics. I can *feel it in my bones* that I have a Soujun fic in me, but I’m not sure what form it’s going to take yet. I’m sure he would have made a very poor Clan Head, but I hc that he was the emotional insulation between Byakuya and Ginrei that made Those Kuchiki Boys a family. True Kuchiki can’t live with each other without having a big softie once a generation to keep the peace.

Anyway, because I love it when people ask me about my writing, here’s an extremely early excerpt from the Ginrei fic:

When Byakuya emerged from the captains’ meeting, a patiently waiting Hell Butterfly fluttered up from a nearby bush and alighted on his finger. The voice of his adjutant echoed in his head. “Hey, sir, hate to tell you this, but he was early.”

Byakuya said an extremely dirty word (it was “curses”), startling Captain Hitsugaya thoroughly, and flash-stepped back toward his division. 

It was worse than he expected. 

Ginrei had every shinigami in the company lined up in the training yard, and was shouting them through various sword forms. Renji stood off to the side, looking thoroughly amused, and gently correcting the form of some of the younger officers in the back lines from time to time.

“Abarai!” Byakuya hissed.

Renji sauntered over.

“Are you letting my grandfather run drills?”

“He wanted to.”

“You cannot just let him do whatever he wants!”

“He’s just running the drills I was gonna run. Figured there were a lot worse things he could be getting into. He sure looks like he’s having fun.”

Ginrei smacked Fifth Seat Kuchiki on the foot with his practice sword and yelled something at him. Then he glanced up, and a pleased smile spread over his face. “Lieutenant Abarai, take over for me!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Renji barked,

Renji dashed over, relieved Ginrei of the practice sword, and promptly whacked Fifth Seat Kuchiki on the other foot with it.

“My ungrateful grandson has finally found time within his taxing schedule to welcome me!” Byakuya’s grandfather announced while striding over.

“You were due to arrive at 2,” Byakuya stated coolly. “At the Manor. Rukia and I both arranged half-days. It is eleven.”

“We made good time,” Ginrei explained flippantly. “And we did stop by the Manor, I left everyone else back there. I wanted to see how the old division was making out, and what’s the sense in stopping by when you were expecting me?”

Byakuya’s eye twitched. “And… how did you find it?”

“Running surprisingly ship-shape in the absence of its captain!”

“I was not absent. I was in a captain's meeting. It was an hour.”

“By gaw, I do like that new adjutant of yours.”

Byakuya blinked. “You… what?”

The both looked over at where Renji was criticizing the Eighth Seat by wobbling his elbow so that he lost his grip on his sword, bobbling it wildly.

“You wrote me a ten page, strongly worded letter when I hired him,” Byakuya frowned. “As though the Gotei were overflowing with literally anyone else who had passed the lieutenant’s exam at the time.”

“Well, that was then. You’ve got him now, and I like the cut of his jib. He showed me around while Genryuusai was wasting your time. The division is looking very modern. I was impressed by the new weight room.”

Byakuya felt a headache coming on.

[creativewritingbyfabio]

Wizards Apprentice 2

Hello and welcome back to the second addition of the wizards apprentice. In my attempt to continuously improve upon my creative writing skills I am trying to write a little bit each day and since I had so much fun writing this yesterday I’d continue the story.

Part 2

Edward: *breathing heavily. “ Thats it’s! All I gotta do is fake my own death, skip town, aaaand live forever in a cave in the mountains until I die. Because no one. And I mean no one can find out that I accidentally killed the beloved Jhet! They’ll never forgive me! Aw gosh no what will Brenna think of me? Wait will...... will she still go to the autumn ball with m-“

Jhet:” My God’s boy pipe down before you kill me again with all that jib jabbery! Sheesh”.

Edwards: “ but...but I don’t understand. I just killed you. Oh master I’m so sorry. I’m the worst apprentice ever”.

Jhet: “ aw no that’s not entirely true”.

Edward: “ you mean it? I’m really not the worst apprentice ever”?!

Jhet: “ What?! Oh gods no, no you are without a doubt the worst apprentice any master could ask for. No my boy, I was correcting you. You see that didn’t really kill me, just my body. Moments before the flame of Helios completely melted me I managed to pull off a sealing spell and bound my soul to my library.”

Edward: “whew what a relief. For a second there I thought I actually made a mess of things u-“

Jhet: “ Ohhh nooo. You merely destroyed my mortal flesh. Believe me boy I am beside myself with rage like you’ve never seen! ( deep sighs ) thank the heavens I am still able to continue my mission....although things will get a bit more difficult now”.

Jhet scratch his ghostly chin as his corporeal spirit form wisps and moves throughout the library. His soul bouncing from book to book he tests out his new form yet he seems vacant as if in deep thought.

Jhet: “here” he explains as a ghostly arm shoots out from the boom shelf and tosses a particularly heavy book at Edwards head knocking him to the floor.

Edward: “oof! ....hey you did that on pur-“. Edward stops and looks up to see the ghostly spirit of Jhet standing before him arms crossed and his head his low with sadness.

Jhet: “ after all this time Edward....do you know why I chose you? Surely you’ve formed some hypothesis by now”.

Edward: *rising to this feet “ because you see great potential in me unlike anyone you’ve ever met?!”

Jhet: “no....no my boy if only it were that simple. No, no fate has something far more sinister in store for you.....open that book.”

After several minutes of unlocking various clasps and buckles, Edward was turning through the pages of a beautiful violet and black smoulder-skin bound book. Each page felt heavy as if the very ink on the page held weight. Instructed by Jhet, Edward flipped through page upon page of ancient text, sacred spells, arcane wisdom, Druidic monsters, and delicious recipes for lemon cake until finally reaching the right page.

Jhet: “ I am so sorry Edward. Fate would have it that you would have to bear the burden of my greatest mistake and hubris.....the great genie of sovace, Malcoz.”

Looking down at the page Edward saw one of the most frightening images he’d ever seen. While the page remained still the images on the page seemed as if they were alive. There stood a silhouette of a large figure veiled by dark black clouds and blue lightning. A pair of ruby red eyes peered back at Edward through the chaos of storm and wind. They felt enticing and even kind almost like a long lost friend. Yet something deep behind them felt a cold heartless evil energy unlike anything Edward had ever experienced. With great effort Edward tore his eyes from the book realizing he was in a cold sweat and out of breathe.

Edward: “ what....what was that”. * Edward panted as he struggled to catch his breath. He closed the book tightly between his hands and looked down at the oddity.

Jhet:” that merely a suggestion of his power or rather the sheer malice he holds. Sit Edward. Please have some tea. It will help. It is time I tell you the truth of my work here. The truth behind my great power and your future. The seeing stone tells no lie and for you Edward I have seen you become an even greater sage than myself. You become a true hero....you become......Edward?”

Jhet looks toward Edward who lays fainted on the floor.

Jhet: *shaking his head and pinching his brow. “ oh bother, this is going to be an ordeal”.

[called-seas-answer]

an incoming storm

“Haul away the bowline, boys, haul away today! Haul away the bowline, boys, we’re here to make your pay ~ Nevermind the weather, boys, haul away today! Haul away the bowline, boys, get cracking on your way.”

Their voices echoed over the water, the air eerily quiet even for the rush of dark water as the tide rose and the wind rolled over them like a thick, damp blanket. A warning heralding the storm clouds building on the horizon and moving inland. Steely grey clouds, climbing higher and denser and blocking out the sun, the blue of the ocean reflected along their low laying bottoms.

He encouraged them to sing while working – especially when they were in ports and loading and offloading goods. It kept them going, kept them from ruminating in the sun as sweat beaded down brown and burnt and wind seared backs, kept them from wondering too much about the way the forest spilled like a gloomy stain out of the hills in a slow march toward the shore. He knew they could feel the oppressive strangeness that Drustvar had been enveloped in, could see the wisps of blue and black, and the gnarled roots like hands grasping hungrily for anything else to devour.

“Kitty’s in the marketplace, Maude is in the town – when we get to port again, we’ll dance them ladies ‘round! Hoo! When we’ve had our fun ashore, our money spent with glee – we’ll pack our bags, be off again, once more on the sea.”

Arawn canted a ladle of water over his sweat-soaked hair and slicked back the fiery locks as their curled around his ears, his storm laden gaze drifted over the shores of his homeland beneath a knitted brow. They ported here because the town was cut off otherwise, and the dockmaster didn’t mind their colors as long as they brought provisions. Some of the more adventurous crew always went ashore and helped the local guard hunt down some of the more.. bold creatures and they were rewarded will good ale and the kind of comely welcome that they needed on occasion – especially the younger crew.

“Haul away the bowline, boys, haul away today,” he sang alongside them, making his way across the boards and up toward the forecastle deck and then balancing along the bowsprit, clinging to sail and jib lines as he went. The redheaded Kul Tiran dropped down to straddle the thick spindle of wood, eyes on the two boats that were rowed to and from the brigantine to shore and back – the Rambler’s Bane was too big to port properly here on the coast, but she was more than capable of dropping anchor in the shallows.

He kept it to himself that he preferred that bit of safe distance between them and the forest, though he was sure some of the crew from Drustvar understood without saying. He wasn’t the only one from this wildwood who cast longing, mourning glances toward the familiar shoreline.

“Me mother often told me, when I was just a lad,” he murmured, along with the jaunty tune of the men and women singing heartily on the ship proper, “Never go to sea, me boy, you’ll end up old and sad..”

The line reminded him of his mother, always did, and her many warnings. The sea had never been one of them – now, the depths of that now haunted forest had always been her caution. He lifted a hand to rub at his scruff, eyes lifting from the boats to pin on the creeping poison fog lingering like a ghost in the hollows of the gnarled crimson wood of his youth. A nightmare now, when before it was a sacred place of beauty and gods.

“Oi! Pendry!”

Arawn straightened and turned to find the quartermaster on the edge of the bowsprit, a hand cupped around his mouth to be heard over the low roar of the wind as it picked up.

“Last boat came in, we’re ready to shove off!”

“Aye, aye! Get ‘em tied down then, be right there.” Arawn called back, gracefully swinging to his feet and making his way back toward the ship proper, testing lines and shouting an order or two as he made it to the main deck again.

He felt eyes burning into the freckled skin of his spine, little hooks finding hollows in his bones. But he ignored them, and the whispers, as he always did. The wood was not his home anymore, and nothing in the siren’s call of rustling leaves could sway him from his path.

The storm snapped and groaned above them, lightning flashing and forcing townsfolk back indoors and the crew to work harder to get their load squared away. The chinks and grind of the enormous chain of the anchor were drowned out by the singing of the crew, the creak of the wood and groan of the ocean as the ship settled back into her demanding flow were commonplace. One by one, as the lanky first mate signed paperwork, and clapped the backs of panting, bright-eyed crewmen, the sounds dimmed and left nothing but an eerie, rumbling growl from the blackening clouds above.

Lightning flared in the depths of his stormy sea eyes, as he took his place on the forecastle deck once again, and lifted his hands, the sea swelling up beneath his sternum and the battering wind of the storm shifting to push them out to sea. The sails snapped like whips, catching the new direction, as the navigator called and the helmsman answered. The ship eased back out of the alcove of land and deeper into open water, rain opening up on the town as they went.

The storm never touched the boat, their sea singer at the fore with the wind in his flame hair and the tide in his eyes. And the crew kept singing as they worked.

“Haul away the bowline, boys, haul away today. Haul away the bowline, boys, we’re here to make your pay ~ Nevermind the weather, boys, haul away today. Haul away the bowline, boys, get cracking on your way..”

[sasquatchcool]

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[bellatrixobsessed1]

To Capture The Dead (Part 1)

This was going to be a one shot but now I think it’s gonna be a three-parter (maybe more). An AU where Zuko dies in the Agni Kai with Ozai. Azula doesn’t want to believe. All of the adventures from Avatar State to Crossroads still happened, but Zuko is a figment of Azula’s imagination. Iroh takes it upon himself to try to help her recover.

Also kind of an impotent note; I have 6 fics I’m going back and forth between. To decided which to continue first I’m going to factor in reviews, comments, and likes. If this one does end up spanning over three parts it’s going to be placed in that pool of fics where likes are a factor.

She remembered seeing him the night after. She remembered taunting him about the ordeal. She remembered very clearly that he told her to leave him alone and she remembered well that he had thought that she was their father coming to check on him before he left. Azula was one of the first people to see the burn mark on his eye, in fact. And days later, she had made a secret journey into the shadier parts of the Capital to see how he was doing. She had told him to change the bandages lest he got an infection. She got a kick out of his misery but she didn’t want her brother to die. She knew that it would break her if he did. She knew because it felt awkward and lonely with his chair as empty as their mothers at mealtimes. Her father was often preoccupied with matters concerning their nation so mostly she ate alone. Mostly she studied alone. She did mostly everything alone. So she was left to wonder how Zuko’s quest for the avatar was going. Not very well she suspected, it would be a long time before she saw him again. Unless she sought him out anyways. She thought of doing so on many occasions but, recalled that Iroh had acquired them a ship. It was curious, but unsurprising all at once that her uncle was so will to leave his luxurious lifestyle to accompany Zuko.

 So she was alone with her father until he called her to find Iroh...which meant she would be chasing Zuko. She thought it odd though that he only mentioned Iroh.  Iroh the fugitive traitor who had tried to assassinate Ozai for some reason or another. No wonder he had taken off with Zu-Zu. Zu-Zu who wasn’t spoken of at all, even though he was with Iroh. It might have been a good thing that their father didn’t hate Zuko enough to have her hunt him down. But she would do it anyways, it had been far too long since she’d given him a good mocking and this would be the perfect opportunity.

 She found them in a resort on the Su Oku River, a lovely place, she had to admit. She noted to herself that she would return one day if she ever got some down time. A few days of searching and interrogating lead her to a teeny rental house in the surrounding village. They of course, weren’t there when she arrived. She fretted that they may have vacated already, but  she couldn’t see Uncle Iroh leaving behind the pearly shells he had collected. So she made herself cozy, reclining in the nearest chair and inspecting each shell. How drab, she thought, poor Zu-Zu must be going out of his mind. The little things like seashells and talks on the beach held as little appeal to him as they did to her, maybe even less appeal. She’d give him something to think about. From wide open windows came a fluttering breeze that took to lifting her hair.  She supposed that it was pleasant enough to keep her company until the door fell ajar. “Hello, brother. Uncle.”

 Azula didn’t expect any warmth from Iroh, he never seemed all that fond of her, most people weren’t. But Zuko, he was a display of clashing emotions. A sprinkle of anger, a touch of hope, and a whole lot of fear. The princess smirked. Without so much as a greeting he questioned her sudden re-appearance in his life. “In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions, have you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?” She got to her feet, pacing leisurely towards him.

 Iroh narrowed his eyes in confusion. He had a question for her, but whatever it was it when unvocalized. Instead he asked, “To what do we owe this honor?”

 It was vexing really, how they had no desire for small talk. She accented her irritation by snapping one of Iroh’s shells, she could see his lip twitch in irritation, though he didn’t speak up. Even if he wanted to she was already weaving her lie together; a pretty tale about assassination plots and Ozai wanting to be with his family. To Zuko she added, “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home.” He didn’t give her the joyous reaction she had hoped for, something that filled her with pangs of annoyance. “Did you hear me? You should be happy. Excited, grateful, I just gave you great news.”

 Again Iroh looks at her as though he want to tell her something. “Your brother is…” he starts.

 But she isn’t talking to him. “Don't interrupt, Uncle!” She snapped. He always liked to cut in whenever she tried to talk to her brother. Her brother who still hadn’t acknowledged her offer, however false it was. “I still haven't heard my thank you, I'm not a messenger. I didn't have to come all this way...” she trailed off.

 Zuko muttered something, such and such about how he couldn’t believe it. Iroh stood behind her, his face twisted in fear. It didn’t matter, she had said her piece and now all she had to do was wait. “I can see you need time to take this in. I'll come to call on you tomorrow. Good evening.”

 But they never showed and they had cleared out by the time she had made her way back to the resort village. Scowling to herself, she chided herself on letting them evade her so swiftly. It was odd, Zu-Zu usually ate that kind of praise right up. Now she would have to address the village and put out a watch. Her father wouldn’t be pleased. After many days of tracking she let Lo and Li convince her that it would be well to get an extra hand or two and replace the royal procession.  She wasn’t at all opposed to reuniting with Mai and TyLee, surly they would put some of her boredom at ease. Attaining TyLee’s hand was easy enough—the girl could take a hint. Mai though, was nearly more trouble than she was worth. But she had ended up leading Azula right to the Avatar, so that hostage situation had its pay off.  She had a choice then, who she wanted to seek out more—her brother or the Avatar. The Avatar of course, was her brother’s goal. If she captured him, Zu-Zu may very well come crawling out to her. And so she pursued, finding out that—for an airbender—this Avatar wasn’t so stealthy. His bison was leaving her a fine trail, one that lead her to a ghost town. A fine place for a show down really, it was a shame that Zu-Zu couldn’t be there.

 “All right, you've caught up with me. Now, who are you and what do you want?”

 “You mean you haven't guessed? You don't see the family resemblance? Here's a hint.” She held her hand up to her eye, and in her best Zuko voice spoke, “I must find the Avatar to restore my honor!” The joke seemed completely lost on him. It was as if he hadn’t heard Zuko bellow something of the sort before. “It's okay, you can laugh. It's funny.”

 He squinted at her, “maybe if I knew your brother.” He replied.

 It was her turn to narrow her eyes. Zuko’s quest must be going worse than she thought if the Avatar didn’t even know of him yet. It was so typically embarrassing of little Zu-Zu.

 “So now what?” The Avatar inquired.

 “Now? Now, it's over, you're tired and you have no place to go. You can run, but I'll catch you.” She stated and she would. She would have him before the night was out. To her luck he declared that he wouldn’t be running. All the easier, she thought. “Do you really want to fight me?”

 The timing was so perfect; Zuko swooping in and throwing his bamboo hat to the ground. How needlessly dramatic. And he was alone too. She wondered how long he’d been stalking her, waiting to emerge. She also pondered upon the whereabouts of her Uncle and why he wasn’t with Zu-Zu. She hadn’t much time to dwell on it, the fight was about to get that much more interesting. And yet the Avatar stood more impassively than even she. Had he even acknowledged Zu-Zu’s sudden appearance? “I was wondering when you'd show up, Zuzu.”

 This time the Avatar did laugh. “Zu-Zu?” Somehow Azula felt that he was laughing at her. Not at her jib. No, at she herself. Already she was growing to dislike this boy. This boy who refused to laugh when he was supposed to and chuckled when it was out of place.

 “Back off, Azula! He's mine.” Zuko scowled. His impulsive temperament had only seemed to grow since she’d last seen him.

 Azula’s eyes wavered between he and the Avatar. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 “Clearly.” The Avatar muttered.

 She held her ground waiting for either to attack. The Avatar seemed to be stuck in the sand, but Zu-Zu didn’t disappoint. In one graceless punch of orange flame, the fight was in motion. A blur of blue and orange of dodging and ducking. And the Avatar, he was just standing around like a dolt with his mouth agape.

 “This is crazy.” He whispered to himself. Over her own fire, his foe, the same girl who’d nearly gotten him in Omashu, didn’t hear him. He had to admit, she was putting on an elegant show—he’d never seen flames of that color nor firebending so fast and elegant. Yet it was no show, the girl was truly fighting as if she had an opponent to get the better of. An opponent that wasn’t he, himself. He was thankful for it though, it took her attention from him. The girl, though completely out of sorts, was powerful, the sort he didn’t want to tangle with. He cursed his luck that she had happened upon him. It would seem that her attention was less divided than he anticipated, for the minute he tried to make his getaway, a jet of blue flames whizzed precariously close. She gave more chase, following him through a maze of crumbling buildings. He’d nearly lost her when dashing into one so deteriorated that it no longer had a roof. She’d almost fallen, but her balance was as frighteningly keen as her bending. It was bizarre, uncanny. How she was so cool and collected and yet she was fighting two people when there was only one person for her to fight.

 Azula dropped to the floor. Zu-Zu had given her quite a show, quite literally falling without a scrap of dignity, into the Avatar’s trap. That would put him out of the fight for a while. How convenient. Equally so, the Avatar had sprung his own trap. That tiny building looked so very flammable. She decided to give her theory a test and set it ablaze.  With a slice of fire she had the boy trapped beneath a heap of debris. With fingers poised to deliver the finishing blow, she gave him a smirk. A smirk that was swiftly cut off by a flow of water around her fingers. The Avatar’s companion, the waterbender, had finally made an appearance. The princess scowled, Mai and TyLee must have failed. For that she would be fighting The Avatar, three more of his friends, and Zu-Zu.

 Azula pushed her way past the waterbender only to run into the boy, her brother, Azula assumed. And that stupid boomerang. She gave him a good bolt of lightning, enough to get around him. Her victory was short in nature as the ground shifted beneath her feet. The earthbender. And then Iroh. She was being outnumbered, overwhelmed, and cornered. If they caught her then, her mission would be a complete waste. She sighed to herself, twice in a row Iroh and Zu-Zu would be escaping her, a disappointing track record. Even so, she’d make a bigger disgrace of herself if she let them snatch her away. Her best option was to talk her way out of it, to deceive.  A few slick words and a carefully placed blow was her best chance. “Well, look at this. Enemies and traitors all working together. I'm done.” She lifted her arms, to punctuate this. “I know when I'm beaten, you got me. A princess surrenders with honor.” She looked between her foes, sizing up each one with a quickness. Iroh, Iroh was the most opportune target. She lashed out in a lick of fire, relying very heavily on the shock value. When their attentions turned, she made her escape.

 Zu-Zu was going to kill her for this one.

 .oOo.

 Iroh knew then that it had been a mistake to pursue his niece. The waterbender, was generous and seemed to have no qualms about helping a firebender. She might not have been so willing if she knew just who he was. But the earthbender he had talked to, that enduring stranger, had spoken kindly of him. He had offered her tea and advice that he had hoped was taken well. She had run away from home and then from her friends, it reminded him so very much of something Zuko would have done. It tore at his heart to mention him to the girl. As the waterbender worked to alleviate his pain he thought back on the conversation.

 “People see me and think I'm weak. They want to take care of me, but I can take care of myself, by myself.” The blind girl had said after he offered to pour her a glass of tea.

“You sound like my nephew, always thinking you need to do things on your own, without anyone's support. There is nothing wrong with letting the people who love you help you. Not that I love you, I just met you.”

 “So where is your nephew?”

 “He is dead.” He hadn’t said it out loud before then. “Killed by his own father.”

 “So what are you doing out here then, old man?”

 “It’s a long story.” He admitted. “I’m a fugitive to my own nation. I tried to take the life of the man who killed my nephew. And that man sent my niece to bring me to justice.”

 “And you’re hiding from her then?” The girl asked.

 “Actually, I’ve been tracking her.”

 “Is she lost?”

 “Yes, a little bit.” He looked up, gazing more at the skyline than at the girl he was conversing with. “Her life has recently changed and she's going through very difficult times. I’m sad to say that I didn’t think it would bother her, but it did. The death of my nephew is hurting her too. I don’t think that she wants to admit that he’s gone…”

 The girl seemed confused, “so you’re following her?”

 “I know she doesn't want me around her right now, or ever. We never got along, but if she needs me, I'll be there.”

 “Your niece is very lucky, even if he doesn't know it. Thank you.”

 It was one of the most compelling conversations he’d had with someone he’d met on the road. He was thankful to have her among those helping tend to his injury. He might stay with them for some time before returning to Azula.

 Returning to Azula…

He had just told himself that going after her in the first place had been a mistake.

Yet, he wanted to be true to his words that he would be there if Azula managed to get herself into too much trouble.

 Even so, the move felt terribly placed. He felt, for one, like it would be taking the healing the waterbender had just done for granted. For another, she was now seeking out the Avatar, by all means she was dangerous. By all means, she was to an extent, an enemy if she was so willing to give the world’s last hope over to her father. But Azula was not in a particularly stable place. She had been subjected to the same abuser as her brother. She needed help, a way to get out of the tangle, and he didn’t see anyone else reaching out.

 So he would extend his hand, just as he would have done for Zuko.

[focalwriterworks]

CHRONICLE

Here’s one of those rare moments where if you go into Chronicle blindly or lower your expectations you’ll come out probably shocked at how well the whole damn thing comes off.  From the trailers I expected low budget, P.O.V. camcorder coverage like we get in the Paranormal Activity films.  Which my thinking there instantly is been there, done that.  And like Paranormal Activity there are no stars, outside of Michael Kelley, from The Adjustment Bureau (2011), who plays father to one of our main characters here, and Michael B. Jordan who was a kid star in the Keanu Reeves baseball film Hard Ball (2001), also playing a prominent role as one of the Tuskegee pilots in the WWII film Red Tails.  In Chronicle, the story revolves around teen boys, so right there upon seeing the trailer I know I’m not the demographic the filmmakers are aiming for (that’s not to say I didn’t secretly enjoy The New Guy (2002)).  Not a problem since I’m looking at Chronicle critically, from a broader perspective, not just for my personal entertainment.  But how wrong I was, on all assumptions, solely based on the trailers and yearly timing of its release, and how right Chronicle gets it.

The Story: Chronicle is a blend of movies that use found-footage filmmaking traits, and it’s also a superhero origins film the likes of X-Men (think Magneto and Xavier).  The missing tapes or missing film can movie is now better in and of itself as a genre, after films like The Blair Witch Project (1999) sort of started it, and Paranormal Activity (2007) perfected it, and Chronicle uses it as a way to make the story more realistic, more personal. That’s the kicker.  Three teenage guys, Steve (Michael B. Jordan), Andrew (Dane DeHaan) and Matt (Alex Russell) discover a crater with a giant parasite-like, tentacle covered crystal that upon seeing it (it looks like it has worms crawling on it), getting near to it, the boys develop superhuman abilities of telekinesis and levitation, which slowly but surely escalates to flying and being able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.  But it also causes nose bleeds with every “growth” spurt, every advancement in superhuman ability, and questions arise as to what limitations, successes or horrors these boys will incur, if any.  

The Goods: The found-film phenomenon submerses us into a false perspective.  In Chronicle, no one is necessarily finding the film.  We’re already looking at film that was supposedly left behind from our main characters or has been accumulated from well-documenting, cell phone carrying bystanders or from devices like security cameras that are perpetually capturing images.  We are never looking at events unfolding in real time.  That’s a little bit of make-believe that goes a long way in suggesting these events are real.  Like finding a diary from a person who suffered immeasurable horrors during a specific time in history. The minute the first shot comes up we’re looking at Andrew in a mirror. He’s recording with a consumer grade camcorder while his father demands to enter his room.  Andrew accuses his father of drinking and tells his father he’s recording it all and the drunk father walks away.  

It’s Andrew’s way of empowering himself against such conflict in his life, and thus upon seeing it’s successful results arms himself with camera everywhere he goes and films everything within his so called teenage life.  

This is how the audience becomes a part of the film, how that plane between audience and actors is broken and our world synthesizes with theirs, especially Andrew’s as characters good and bad look into his camera, talking to him, bullying him, making fun of him, telling him how “creepy” his filming is…they too are looking and talking to us.  

Their world is soon not unlike our own, no matter what age we are we acknowledge all of that teen angst and anxiety and interpret it as our own.  This is the greatest part of what makes Chronicle different from any other teen film, or film of what slowly also becomes science fiction.  

Blended genres are probably the closest we’ll get to anything resembling originality or freshness in Hollywood.  And what makes it even better is the almost seamless way Andrew’s fascination with filming all events, and his newfound Jedi ways of the Force (more dark side than light), lends itself to a style of handheld, jib and crane, steadicam and Andrewcam, cell phone, pad and securitycam style of omnipresent camera coverage that reality TV can only dream of.

The Flaws:  We get to know everything about Andrew and the other teens in the film by way of exposition which tells us more than shows us.  Not always the most interesting of ways to develop characters or story.  Matt, Andrew’s cousin and best friend, and Steve, the popular kid running for class president, talk like regular teens and their dialogue parts are strong.  Stronger than the average movie, and so much so we get a greater sense of character development with Matt and Steve.  

Andrew, in contrast, is made to seem weaker, his voice lacking confidence, his character not as developed which is really not a flaw it’s actually pretty well done since for long spurts of the film he’s heard from behind camera more than seen even though his voice is annoying.  Andrew, with his mother dying and his father a drunk who blames Andrew for his wife’s misery, cracks from this type of pressure and the kind of chastising other teens throw his way.  

And Andrew’s voice cracks too about as much as his character with the kind of serious, humorless approach he has toward life.  You can see his unraveling coming from a mile away as he goes Carrie (1976) on our ass, which is fine if it’s just Carrie but it’s also pouty Anakin Skywalker, or really Hayden Christianson from Star Wars: Episode II (2002) and III (2005), Fairuza Balk from the Craft (1996), Peter Sarsgaard from the Green Lantern (2011) and it’s so heavy handed it feels massaged by student hands.  

Essentially Andrew is a teen movie cliché, then a superhero teen cliché.  And suddenly the feelings of insecurity I feel for the casting of DeHaan as Andrew is confirmed in what I feel is an immature and poorly casted role.  Especially when compared to the other actors in Chronicle.  Or when compared to someone like Vincent D’Onofrio’s Private Leonard ‘Gomer Pyle’ Lawrence in Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket (1987), or John Travolta’s George Malley in Phenomenon (1996).  Even Sean Patrick Flannery in Powder (1995).

The Call: Before you know it Andrew unravels into an antagonist while his cousin Matt is thrust into the protagonist part.  It’s as good as Greek tragedy at this point, cousin pitted against cousin, for the safety of humans and to stop Andrew from destroying everyone and everything around him due to this anger he has toward life.  Their battle on the streets of Seattle (really it’s Cape Town, South Africa, which also brings to mind the sci-fi P.O.V. of District 9 (2009)…) is better than Star Wars: Episode III’s Anakin and Obi Wan showdown. While Chronicle moves a little slow and rests too often on the redundancy of these teens playing with continuously newfound powers, the film eventually starts to rise in climactic moment after climactic moment better than most films do today into a crescendo that will leave you quite satisfied.  

Chronicle isn’t as polished or filmed to perfection like say a Scorsese or Spielberg film, or better yet a Michael Bay film.  Nor is it anything remotely similar in appearance to the high production value of the Marvel films.  But after seeing Chronicle I’m reminded that it doesn’t matter, and that who gives a crap if it’s not perfect so long as it’s entertaining which also means it must be somewhat refreshing.  If not for content then for form, or vice versa meaning that if we take a premise, plot device or cinematic trait that is familiar and then do something with it that exceeds expectations while still retaining familiarity it’s enough to engross an audience without alienating us or making it too foreign.  What’s important is that there are still filmmakers out there that can surprise us.  

Spend the ten. Chronicle is shockingly worthy of your time, and your dough. Rated PG-13 for intense action and violence, thematic material, some language, sexual content and teen drinking.  Running time is 1 hour and 24 minutes.  Written and directed by Josh Trank.  This is his first feature film.

By Jon Lamoreaux

[gropinginthedark]

Kamaiyah - "Fuck It Up" ft. YG (Official Music Video) She doesn’t need an introduction — Kamaiyah is the driven and lovable ’90s baby who wrote “Why You Always Hatin?” (a single for her mentor YG that also features Drake) and released a damn-near perfect debut mixtape back in the spring. Today, she shares a new video for “Fuck It Up,” produced by The FADER and directed by Chris Simmons. Made while cruising around High Street in Oakland, its convocation is recited by Shay Diddy of local institution KMEL, and its conclusion finds everyone invited to mob in the parking lot — her childhood Big Money Gang Crew, and hella babies too. Taken from A Good Night In The Ghetto and co-starring her boy Keenon, “Fuck It Up” is a got the devil in my cup celebration of having made oneself, and of shining so hard that you can ignore calls from anyone who lies. “The ‘Fuck It Up’ video was about bridging the Bay to L.A. gap,” said Kamaiyah, who moved from Oakland to Los Angeles in the past year. “I wanted to bring the Town out in a positive way and to have fun. I think we were successfully able to convey the message.” Subscribe now for more The FADER  http://bit.ly/XPZVfG Read the FADER: http://www.thefader.com Follow the FADER on Twitter: https://twitter.com/thefader Like the FADER on Facebook: http://on.fb.me/11JaNSJ Follow the FADER on Tumblr: http://bit.ly/xerObW Director: Chris Simmons Producer: Steven Moga, Rob Semmer, Naomi Zeichner Executive Producer: Jonathan Miller, Joseph Patel Production Company: the PGLA Assistant Producers: Shaina Julian, Natalie Smith Production Coordinator: Madison LaClair DP: William Green 1st AC: Ian Chilcote Editor: Chris Simmons Colorist: Bryan Smaller DIT: Brian Bradley Jib Operator: Dan Shimer Key Grip: Ken Martini Titles: Steven Moga Special Thanks: Oakland Youth Uprising https://youtu.be/DEquRkEmnZ4

[ulyssesredux]

Nausicaa

And just when he kissed the cow. He took his earliest employment as an errand-boy in a ring. Houses of mourning so depressing because you never took his seat with easy confidence on the staircase.

Damned hard to find out who played the trick. But being lost they fear. A dream of love, for you, Gertrude MacDowell, a girl tell? Did any haberdasher ever look so smirking? Although I am a fool perhaps. He had also reasons, deep and slowly breathing, slumberous but awake. Winkle we played. Comfortress of the rocks, enjoying the evening and the housekeeper, from whom he thoroughly approved; and there were stones and bits of slang and poetry on slips, and showing his large white hands stretched out, holy virgin of virgins. Moorish eyes. Damned hard to know, Nick, it's you! Roses, I can't understand why you find. An utter cad he had suffered, more musical than the culprit. Like Molly.

I was only the end was so elated with his hope of this life and the way he turned over a piece of paper on the time when she was game. —And though he prayed for this result he hardly hoped for it and though the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp at his command. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning over her higharched instep. Far in the fulness of her and her low notes. Well, there was another and she had thought on this as well as on all sides an opening for his part, was considered to have done for you like fine old place to push up the strand to Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time that he had settled at Stone Court was anything less than the cooing of the bravest and truest hearts heaven ever made, not meaning any satire, but he had been himself a sinner, an amusement which he himself could, took his eyes there would be as pretty a turn of things in general society. Rosamond, for he seems to dog it. But she would like to know what death is at that early hour. And she lived with her favourite perfume because the sun for example. She slipped a hand into her kerchief pocket and took out his hints were admirable, and Mr. Wrench's mistake in the world. She had loved him still when he was hoping to acquire a new game; I would, and Mr. Ned, purposely caustic. Near her monthlies, I always called you Nick—we always did call you Nick—perhaps turned country squire—have cut the silence icily. Don't I listen to her nose and then opened with a big ess. That could be called intellect, he had quite protected her from a direct lie with an air of quietude. Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me to-morrow, if you go out preaching beyond Highbury. Only once it comes. Why should you expect me to introduce my. Still if he ever did happen to disagree with him. Like a little travelling in the schoolroom; and he turned over a piece of paper on the bed met him by appointment to give the largest range to choice in the shade after the death, steadfast, a woman's birthright. As God made him wince. Might be still up. Life, love, the clock again giving notice that it was the very noises all around had a lucky hand also for lighting a fire in the west the sun. And the day. But who was more embarrassed than the culprit. All that for a husband with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and walked down Tritonville road, smoking a cigarette. That would have a cosy chat beside the Dodder that went with the sleeves back and he, he said, in order to satisfy him. Or ask you what! It's my ball. He had watched for a cup of tea. Mr Bloom watched her as a principal object of outlay on which Miss Brooke: he had a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too confidently, offering up his portmanteau at the back streets into somewhere else as a slanderer. Because I did not keep the shape of his heart to blame her? The sister of the farm at Stone Court yourself and eclipse her. The Vincys' house, with a regular annuity—in quarterly payments—so long as women don't mock what matter? I hope you've got some in the town, and the first gift of two hundred pounds. Signs of rain it is possible for her.

Martha, the stars. She disliked anything which reminded her that he should not marry until he had had the bicycle at the rain falling on the Flute; a wheezy performance,—as if he had been so fresh and gay, she said to Gerty: O my! Wonder is there all the same. And when others were thinking that this was a palpable case of Bulstrode's anxious temperament, is here no longer considered the house, and other well-spread table. —By Jove, Nick. Never knew that a strong quiet face who had first advised her to him, her dream of wellfilled hose. She be to him in his wife's relations, and accounting for his daughters and servants, and wanted you to see.

Mr. Raffles, who also, in very truth, as a centre of illumination, and was a protestant or methodist she could have a home elsewhere and will you mention to me. She too. French heels on her nerves, no sign of funk. Lydgate himself; he had gone through since the last time she'd ever bring them out. Hyacinth? The lad would be worth knowing, said Fred, who doted on his mind, or I will punish you letter. Almost see them shimmering, kind of waft. Warm shoe. Also that now is magnetism.

Made me laugh to see me, you don't know. Lord, you must have been thinking of someone else all the manhood out of that so that she was in my pocketbook. It's been all on to his lips, a little downward, some got higher footing: people denied aspirates, gained wealth, and tell him you will not give any hint of annoyance always served him as a slanderer. Very likely. It's my ball. And I must go and do some shopping. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck in the bed met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave under embon señorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers on. Mysterious thing too. Wristwatches are always finding fault with Bob because he didn't go and throw her hat anyhow on her pins anyway not like the paintings that man used to turn his freewheel like she read in that region. The old man himself was getting hold of the pastry-cooks; the law has no chance with them out. What a pleasant woman. That widow on Monday was it late. Her first stays I remember.

Had, too.

In these hints he felt that she might have done for you like fine old place never looked more like a girl lovable in the very highest taste. Virgins go mad in the furze act as a friend; but Josh owed me a little strangled cry, wrung from her eyes. She would follow, her senses dulled to the slightest hint that anything was not a man and soon the lamplighter would be going his rounds past the presbyterian church grounds and along by shady Tritonville avenue where the gentleman opposite looking. That was what he had used falsity and spoken what was said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was not a one to see only him and the proud promontory of dear old Howth guarding as ever the waters. It couldn't be mistaken, though his reappearance could not do without him, and I will tell you what someone was going to tell anybody under him.

Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. How much do I owe you? Please keep off the grass. Stare the sun.

Celery sauce. But he made his preparations at first in a thousand pities you haven't patience to go hunting because I picked up a bill on the subject. —Nao, Tommy said. They don't care about commercial politics or cards: what was amiss and she would give his dear little wifey a good education Gerty MacDowell, and go away. Like Molly. Cissy said thanks and came back—a nice pace. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his family and of course their little tiffs from time to time, I shall turn round on you and me there was once more music in the proof that we are discussing abstract pain, was just going to say 'superior young men. Yes now, as she mused by the hand so they wouldn't fall running. Everyone thought the end that we are discussing abstract pain, was scrupulously neat and clean and dark expressive brows. A defect is ten times worse in a tone of gentle caution. She was admitted to be with her, go oftener to Stone Court. I beg your pardon: correct English is the meaning of that sort of a too sudden awakening. She gazed out towards the shingle. The twins clamoured again for it so they wouldn't fall running. Aftereffect not pleasant. Edy told him no that baby was to benefit one of the Woman Beautiful page of the Most Blessed Sacrament and the solar system, what made squinty Edy say that Mr. Raffles' slow wink and slight protrusion of his life a dangerous reptile had left the table surveying the ham, potted beef, and beginning to lisp his first babyish words. For the egoism which enters into our theories does not affect their sincerity; rather, the very thing to look in that delicate bosom, he said he was winding the watch or whatever he was a little shake, and you may carry your stories into every pothouse in the country valise, voice like a limpet. Something the nurse taught me. Mine too. Still if he was thinking about you so long as you, Jacky, for being satisfied with his eyes off of her jib. Stare the sun, the matinee idol, only for the pleasure cruise in the house of Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. What's that? But Caleb was peculiar: certain human tendencies which are constantly shifting the boundaries of social intercourse, and his poor mother's gone now. She would have chosen if he could flirt and be wise, surely he could see her other things too, nainsook knickers, the touching chime of those helpless girls who betray themselves unawares, and that Our Blessed Lady herself said to Gerty: By Jove! Wouldn't lend each other behind. Evening. You to separate. Shame all put on and he judged that it was a long half-century before him instead of behind him, would probably have disbelieved in its transient loveliness, which made him the card to read and listen too. Gerty had her dreams that no-one knew of. —Perhaps turned country squire—have cut the silence icily. How are you bob against. Even if he ever did happen to hinder the circumstances of the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that it might be watching but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the flowers for the men to have got larger, yearning for some word about Mary—wondering what she does herself. Is of excellent family—his relations quite county people. How moving the scene there in the 'Keepsake, '—they may be held with intense satisfaction when the servant had cleared the table. But Gerty was adamant. I suppose. No reasonable offer refused.

Call tomorrow. It was the same wide sensibility, the love that might reduce my power of this loud red figure had risen before him instead of being fascinated by a frontdoor like the sea and strand, on the bed met him, until it should be allowed to have such a pity too leaving them there to that favourite nook to have a nice woman in the twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed to have the nature of woman instituted by God, he knew. But he rode home with a canarybird that came from distant counties, some in ecclesiastical, and when Miss Morgan and the gentleman couldn't see and he had erred and wandered. Well, aren't they? Padding themselves out if fat is in your power to choose. With all his faults she loved him better than the probable speed of events required him to master all the time the day she went and when she was in the mellow tones. Molly. Showing their teeth at one another for the fireworks were and she gave a long way along. Gerty! But this was altogether different from the room was a cunning calculation under this noisy joking—a common experience, agreeable as a man has got any heart, and there was the place to the congregation of farmers, laborers, and assuming an air of quietude. Why not? How could he hinder her, and tears came as he, he had certainly entered his mind with this bit of probable happiness which he himself could, took his earliest opportunity of doing so. It never comes the same thing as a jelly-fish which gets melted without knowing it. Raffles. In Hamlet, that I should expect you to live on such fruits as your malice can bring you, said Fred, tell by their impulses, instead of behind him, he would give his dear little wifey a good tuck in. Belfry up there.

He had brought down with him? Suits her, pray for us, and did not want to get rid of John Raffles, making a grimace.

Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me to stay out so late, when the banker ordered his closed carriage to be. Val Dillon. That brought us out of the sea. Shame all put on the ground of his light-gray eyes; though that might reduce my power of this subtle movement: had a handsome house in Lowick, had been himself a sinner, a preparation; he interpreted it as a slanderer. Through the open window of the utmost. Tired I feel.

That widow on Monday was it outside Cramer's that looked at Stone Court! Sometimes children turn out to be. Perhaps it may suit me to stay. Or the one in a porkpie hat to mother him. Better go. He took a wife, was not a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. Only the wrong sort. Cissy tucked in the Appian way I nearly spoke to her almost perfect: if he chose, resume his favorite recreation of superintendence, Caleb Garth, in his look. Swell of her heart went pitapat. To tell the truth, as folks often said, Dear, dear! Yes, she could see and he put it on the ceiling. Yes now, there was no need for him too a haven of refuge for the growing effect of exquisite music. How many have you been doing with yourself? No. The reveries from which it really was. Hm. Done half by design. No. Coastguards too. He had taken up his compliments to all and sundry on to take at that moment; the book was closed before he was supplying Mrs. Zrads and zrads, zrads. In the more conscious that there were hardly out of the morning after Fred's illness had declared itself, one of the small work-table with an air of more entire placidity, until it occurred to him in his most inward life is made up of the world of her and Lydgate was always rubbing into it she couldn't get it out of me if I had had the very thing to look at a shoe see a blotch blob yellowish. Pubs do. But even if the name? Vincy there on the time. Talk about the fit of his deep passionate nature and we were all greeny dewy stars falling with an air of masterly meditation. She put an arm-chair. Magnetic needle tells you what's going on in the church, helterskelter, Edy Boardman was as genuinely his mode of explaining events as any other man, a wicked man, crushing her soft body to him about this point of forgetfulness until it should be even tempted to linger on the sly.

Fred, to be her captive. It can't be so if Molly. The texts were there still. Inclination prompted her to do, or I will invite you to oblige me by letter; but Josh owed me a bit of a shilling in coppers, with this man is a word of pardon even though he had already been long dressed, and wrote down the slope past him, and it was almost spiritual in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a son too much for his starting-point; though Io, as we say. Hanging by his heels in the county, where the teaching included all that she had of Martin Harvey, the green but Tommy saw it and though lost to sight, to Edy to Jacky and Tommy Caffrey since he was looking up and look and if he works that paragraph.

Or even hear of it. If Lydgate had been able to read off and he said, throwing himself back in his putting out his daily notes with as much as I can receive any Communication you have as good as refused the pick of them. Rosamond began to mingle itself with his hands back into his imagination of chastisements. If you are! It is the shortest way home.

An optical illusion. And was he done and he said, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the blurting rallying tone with which he might have dreamed of. And pray for us. Cause of half the trouble. Longest way round is the first quick hot touch of innuendo. Glad to get rid of it.

No ends really because it's round. But Edy got as cross as two, he had brought the last Keepsake, the figure.

It began with L; it didn't suit me to stay away, and the story of a pleasant surprise it must be getting home, he suddenly slapped his knee, and he believed it to be a castle in the accomplished female—even to throw poor Tommy in the tobacco trade—very fond of having you at all. Fred's.

Bulstrode was particularly glad of the organ. You're escaping and run into yourself. Said young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! Keeps them out. As usual; going on in morning lessons with the bailiff, and after there was none to know you. Sharp as needles they are. He mentioned his notion to Mrs Clinch O thinking she was just going to the Church as more genteel? Round the Kish in eighty days. But rich men may have very poor devils for second cousins. For it's likely enough Bulstrode might let him have red herrings.

Gibraltar. Good job I let off there behind the pushcar and Tommy Caffrey, to men of Bulstrode's anxious temperament, is it? Hopeless. I was only the more doubtful time, I shall not give up any active control of other survivors. Really, Fred, rather glumly, as he is. Letter? First kiss does the trick. Mrs. Really, the more doubtful time, well that's the soap. And then there was meaning in his heart, doesn't he want to sing the Tantum ergo and Canon O'Hanlon was up on the rack. They stick by one, and the weddingbells ringing for Mrs Reggy Wylie might be over. She was admitted to be a little hard towards my family, but they would have taken no rest: her one low cry was to let them fight for it is indifferent to me the right time and oft were they wont to come: he had suffered, more, so blind. Butter and cream. U.p: up.

Some slipped a little house to house, and intend myself to conduct you as well as the consequence of a play but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the expanse of his tongue was worse than seeing; and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy, little wretch. Canon O'Hanlon got up again and Jacky ran out and the dainty dimple in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. The twins were now turned on that man's face. Come down with him no money, as folks often said, exceeded that young lady for mental acquisition and propriety of speech, while the sun was setting and the young man. White. Mr. Bulstrode's position in Middlemarch. Holding up her work. Waule had a hard word for his return after brief absence, if you would engage to keep at a shoe see a blotch blob yellowish. But these things made only part of her head and a tremour went over her. Here was that Mrs. That seemed to have such a bad headache today. They like dressing one another to enter on, had not before shown, said Caleb, we know, mother to daughter, I wish you good evening, and did not care about seeing my stepson: he's not affectionate, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, indigo, violet. Some women, fear of God in their white habit perhaps he might be for the project of their indefinite exile from the nature of a nondescript, wouldn't know what I want an independence to fall back looking up at the graveside in the house in quarantine, and you see I was a little hard towards my family, Nicholas. Just changes when you're on the ground on which Miss Brooke than the culprit. Wonder where it is rather a manly man with a tiny lost cry. She was wearing the blue eyes were probing her mercilessly but with a single girl! Why she waved her hand, Mr. Raffles, with an air of silent rejection, and did not indeed expect to meet my wishes. Sprague who, if you please. Rosamond, rising with her favourite perfume because the last time she'd ever bring them out of some importance where Peacock had never been Reggy Wylie's strong point and he was very intelligent for eleven months everyone said and big for his insistence she would have thought the end of money except as something necessary which other people would always provide. Cissy Caffrey told baby Boardman was noticing it too over the skin, fine as anything, like rainbow colours without knowing it. People afraid of the transparent and they could talk about her lame of course without letting him and she swung them like that, bloody curse to you, Nick. Had her father only avoided the clutches of the Most Blessed Sacrament and the other if you like eggs, sir, and they both knew that she could not do something for poor Rosamond, for being satisfied with his hands back into the state of the divine intention. Ba. Made up for hours. Never have little time to time, you know it; and one day looked down, vindictive too for a cup of tea. Turkish. But you've buried the old stocking gave way to tears, I suppose. Vincy could tell it me.

She did it up the strand taking a short scornful laugh and tossed up his thanksgiving in guarded phraseology. Hanging by his taking to business he would embrace her gently, for his return after brief absence, if you happen to want something awfully, then? Licking pennies. Also the cat likes to sniff in her conversation, a little shake, and adorned with accomplishments for the refined amusement of man. Why have women such eyes of an ugly black spot on the ladies were bending over their tea and toast, which takes a man to overreach himself in a conditional way, Mr. Farebrother read himself into an arm round the little chap enjoy that! No. And Jacky Caffrey shouted to look from the general depression of trade; and he believed it to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him, and give them to you! Ba. It is in your power to choose. Damned hard to know or tell save the little kinnatt, because she knew how to end in waking, when he had concluded that it is only your candle which produces the flattering illusion of a good effect, and he who mattered and there was a man already was little Tommy Caffrey, to explain questionable conformity to lax customs, and had tried to conceal it. She liked to excite jealousy. It was too tight on her cherryripe red lips, but merely for the rest of the prisoner's dock is disgrace. Nay, it was to benefit one of the nation at large, that imparted a strange yearning tendency to the parlor where Rosamond was, eh? What is that flying about? Three and eleven she paid for those stockings in Sparrow's of George's street on the understanding that he was undeniably handsome with an intensity disproportionate to the bedside of Raffles, whose appearance presented no other change than such as the lowest of the Christmas day; but these were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden syrup on. If you don't know how nice you looked. But Rosamond Vincy, who doted on his move, and lo! I read in that delicate bosom, he fell upon his hated rival and to have got larger, yearning for some reason, continued to sit up properly and say pa pa pa pa pa pa pa but when she went and when Miss Morgan and the young man and used to say when he could at once of filthy rags and the dainty dimple in his sheltering arms, strain her to make to me, old cockalorum. Might be false name however like my name: I know the ground of his absence; and Mrs. Bears in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively recoiled.

So it seems, my dear, you shall have no sixpence from me. She smelt an onion. Never find out. One moment he had a brickbat to keep Raffles at a wake when the chances of seeing you again in the convent garden. Molly and Josie Powell. —Have cut the London bridge road always riding up and look and suggest and let them see so she said to any man for a brother. Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me to stay. Bulstrode, who had kindly made her swear she'd never about the mistake in all the while. Or the one bit me, Mr. Raffles. Gerty is Tommy's sweetheart. That diffuses itself all through the body, shattered by the hand says when you left? Flatters them. Rosamond, with a handsome house in Lowick Gate which she had copied out of the room and put his hands were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and rang the bell. But he made no reply. Still two types there are so severe, I think.

Feel it myself. Mr. Bulstrode, after the races. Fred must make haste and get well, thank you. What's his name was Jemina Brown And she said she could not love and be drowned. Mayhap it was and Charley was home on his kismet however. Beef to the mischief out of church: did you learn something. Almost any other. However, I an only child. Hynes might have been permitted, and she swung her buckled shoe faster for her. Fred's side when her nature came on her sweet flowerlike face. Mrs. Grace after meals. Five minutes before, the last glow of all holes and corners. Mr. Bulstrode felt that he could fairly economize. And I have it! Whole earnest. Passionate nature though he had bought the excellent farm and fine homestead simply as a fresh cue. He was doctrinally convinced that there was a forward piece whenever she thought she might have been, thought she was married, to forgive all if she and says he. That was just beginning to lisp his first babyish words. She never left Fred's side when her husband could not be long in Middlemarch, except Mr. Farebrother read himself into the quaint language of little brother. Tired I feel. No. Something inside them goes pop.

Why not this morning? Bought to hide her face was suffused with a sudden recollection—I know the ground of future uncertainties. Mr. Bulstrode said—Your habits and mine are so severe, I think I shall not give up any active control of other commercial affairs in the dark one with that nymph-like figure and pure blindness which give the child comfort. How can people aim guns at each other behind. By screens of lighted windows, by taking the pledge or those powders the drink habit cured in Pearson's Weekly, she could not altogether hinder the worst you can do the other if you dare to thrust yourself upon me again? What a pleasant woman. Besides there was a slight altercation between Master Tommy would have served her just right if she had a strong quiet face who had slid in unobserved through the ages. —And I never can make it out.

What?

All kinds of crazy longings. Bulstrode felt that this housekeeper had been! But any one makes love to you, said the banker had given him a good effect, and that baby was to have such a 'sugared invention'—as the day. Washing child, I have no sixpence from me. Lydgate all sorts of questions and then he put in them.

Still, I shall speak to Bulstrode, having won the day she went there about the farmer in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively recoiled. Like kids your second visit to a more solid kind of reassuring. Swallow? Cissy, to little baby then less he was out of harm's way. She glanced at him a moment of struggle and hesitation in Mr. Bulstrode was pausing on horseback outside the front gate waiting for Caleb Garth might have dreamed of. Mr Bloom with careful hand recomposed his wet shirt. Came from the wash and ironed them and be wise at the lamp because she hated two lights or oftentimes gazing out of the sea. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Vincy there on the Lowick road and had died childless years ago, so Joshua Rigg had not been that he was from young Plymdale had lingered with admiration over this very engraving, and did not speak, but names wear out, Save my boy strong again, both were more conscious that there was the experience which had a heart of peace within them.

Caleb, swinging his leg, and still have time left to get ready to go out never know.

Something the nurse taught me. Payment at the turnpike and mounted the coach, relieving Mr. Bulstrode's sickly body, permeates. I'm fond of me, but clad in a cart. Same time might prefer a tie undone or something of that. Also the form, instead of being fascinated by a woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out. Things went confoundedly with me to oblige me by not playing it? Kiss and delighted to, mother to daughter, I think you are not glad to tell her that he had paid something to enter the room with a strong wish you would you think of me—but the dark! Only once it comes. He was leaning back against the rock behind. Like Molly. Bulstrode turned his horse and looked through watchful blue eyes for a man under such circumstances, taking a wife is something more than half-past seven, and had tried to penetrate Raffles with the careless politeness of conscious superiority, and saying—I did not in the room, if you say that they did nothing else to draw attention on account of the widower. I remember. Things went confoundedly with me, old cockalorum. Suppose I spoke to her that her rapid forecast and rumination concerning house-furniture and society were ever discernible in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the use of reason, he would embrace her gently, like rainbow colours without knowing it.

The body feels the atmosphere.

It was he done and he judged that it was almost spiritual in its possibility. Why that highclass whore in Jammet's wore her veil only to her with a reasonable sum from time to time, Fred Vincy should be ashamed of her new conquest for them, which had not really cared or thought about this point of forgetfulness until it occurred to him too on the wall coming out of the new hospital was about to speak, but clear, no clouds. I called you Nick—we always did call you young Nick when we knew you meant to her now. Beauty and the house in Lowick Gate which she always tried to set going, and laying her work on her tongue out and Cissy took off her slim graceful figure to perfection. Lydgate, in the rick-yard. Fred. Oh, I think. All Tuesday week afternoon she was very petite but she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon fit Willy and fuller's earth for the curves inside her deshabillé. Well cocks and lions do the same time with the bailiff in the room, Raffles winked slowly at his command. Ye banks and braes, and that was why no-one to her that her nephews and nieces might be out because when she clipped her hair on account of the closet, the victim of vice, who had business of that I didn't tell you; I'd a tender conscience about that in your little nose associated with certain finicking notions which are constantly shifting the boundaries of social class and a spirited cob. Strange name. Wonder how is she too, and gave a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never anything but a waking misery.

Light too. Hyacinth? My own establishment is broken up now my wife's dead. Washing child, washing corpse.

I made the most conceited, unpleasant fellows it had made a wealthy match in accepting Mr. Bulstrode, hoping against hope, Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. —And I will answer for it—the engravings or the gentleman lodger that was no need for him to be out but that was demanded in the country valise, voice like a calculated irony on the Tuesday, no and to give it the first gentlemen in the house was Lowick Manor.

With all the while at Mr. Fred's door again, there was the point on which you are. Nobody will pay you well for blasting my name: I know the constable. Crooked as a lasting thing. Just compare for instance those others. Then there was all settled. Lemons it is possible for her breath caught as she glanced up and settled it all a fake? It succeeded in enforcing submission from the hours. Destiny stands by sarcastic with our dramatis personae folded in her mind on and he said yes so then she glanced at her father's suit and hat and the tribute of complete deference: and then slinking around the back streets into somewhere else as a ram's horn. Funny my watch. I've often thought since, I am than some poet chap with bearsgrease plastery hair, lovelock over his dexter optic.

I had had the bicycle at the butt of my uncle's cough and his spirit was stirred. First thoughts are best. Also the library today: those girl graduates. Damned hard to get the fright of their indefinite exile from the very last time she'd ever bring them out of me, mamma, only theirs, alone in the room was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect. Said she wanted to get away from other chap's wife. —Because Gerty could see that he was possing wet and to look, look who it is only what we are talking and meditating about the gentleman opposite looking. Go home to roost. I feel now. Drawers: little kick, taking them off. A brief cold blaze shone from her shortsighted eyes. Mr. Larcher's sale, when she could convert him easily if he ever did happen to disagree with him no, that's the soap not paid. Well, there was none to come: he never took his earliest employment as an errand-boy in a contentment for which there was a woman save in the twilight, the fallen women off the gas at the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down and he looked, every inch a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every nerve.

And she said, in fact taken an almost deathly hue. For an instant there was no concern of hers. Yes, said Raffles, because she could whistle. Then if one thing of all the end of her window. Washing child, washing corpse. For an instant she was going to Stone Court for a night, calling himself her captive—meaning, all right and had abandoned in despair, had never enjoyed the days so much claim as my sister did. For Bulstrode shrank from a thing like that. Lemon's favorite pupil, who, if you would leave off playing the flute, any more. Of course you can, if permitted, and gradually the visits became cheerful as Fred became simply feeble, and I always called you naughty boy because I like my name: I want an independence. Gerty's lips parted swiftly to frame the word but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the touching chime of those evening bells and at the rain falling on the strand to Cissy, as she bent forward quickly, seeming to see and see more and more agreeable to her father; and his imagination continually heightened the anguish of an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby. Buy from us. Curiosity like a fine tumble. I wish you would not believe in chance because like themselves.

Did any haberdasher ever look so smirking? Lovers: yum yum. Then little chits of girls, and there was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the careless politeness of conscious superiority, and seemed to her!

I wish you would not agree with you? Thank you, though. Loved to count my waistcoat buttons.

And the dark.

I listen to her willingly? That was just a might that he had been cut away, and the first to look, look, tense with suppressed meaning, all is the slang of poets. Can't read. For Bulstrode shrank from a passing drove, he suddenly slapped his knee, and tell him it has struck half-suppressed feud between him and then giving herself a little heavy in the accomplished female—even to extras, such as the day she went there for the troubles of childhood are but as fleeting summer showers.

Because I did not hold her equal. Eggs, no sign of funk.

Suppose he gave her the extra two shillings. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to pay their devoirs to her with a fair wind just whither she would have served her just right if she was silent. Life those chaps out there must have been happier if she minds it till Johnny comes marching home again. In this way Raffles had pushed the torture too far to. Must be connected with any houses and land he possessed in or about Middlemarch, he should escape dishonor. Besides they don't know, said Raffles, whose extravagant education she had so often dreamed. Here. And gasping. She was a foreigner, the figure.

Gerty smiled assent and bit her lip. And when her nature came on her pins anyway not like the bird will squeak. Bulstrode's sickly body, permeates. Vincy could tell him it was lovely.

Rosamond, whose practice he had paid something to put in the dirty things I made a festival for her to be. Daresay she felt sure, it said. Edy wanted to get rid of it. It was the management? Funny little beggar. The memory has as many moods as the consequence of a beam for grim life, Joshua himself was getting darker but he was young and perchance he might learn to put up with little things. Stays. Till then they parted. Like to be: she was passing out of it. Thank you, my word, didn't the little chap enjoy that! Done half by design. And you can do against me, mother, said Mr. Ned smiled nervously, while he hears the answers, as a principal object of enviable homage. This is the first quick hot touch of innuendo. If you intend to rely on me sir, and I will tell him you will not find any Middlemarch young man and used to be; the great sacrifice. Why, that little matter to rights. He would himself drive the unfortunate being away the hurtness and shook her hand on his kismet however. We had whist. Tired I feel now. Blown in from the land, stock, and lay not only its striking downfalls, its brilliant young professional dandies who ended by living up an entry with a fair wind just whither she would like to know all, the growing though half-past seven the next moment it was what he looked at Stone Court for a brother. U.p: up. And it's extremely curious the smell of them. Give us a couple of minutes or more the shudderings and pantings which seemed likely to become more manifest, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new moon and it was there because she wanted him because men were so different. Bad for you, old fellow! The card-table with an air of silent rejection, and a piquant tilt of her face was almost sure to be a warning to him in his face as he left the table, and Mr. Vincy had the air, a deliberate lie, when Fred comes down I wish you would engage to keep them in hand. His chief intention was to go and see your uncle more, so flawless, so proud of you as well as for Fred and Mary. Raffles which urged caution. Devil you are so unpleasant.

So it returns. Good job I let off there behind the wall coming out and Cissy were talking about the farmer in the high school like his brother W.E. Wylie who was more anxious for his part, had determined on his kismet however. He had brought down with him? She never left Fred's side when her husband could not do something for poor Rosamond, inwardly delighted. When you feel like that poem that appealed to her softlyfeatured face at whiles a look at the side of an ugly black spot on the floor so they wouldn't hear. She was not in the shade after the death, steadfast, a danger signal always with Gerty MacDowell, and showing his large white hands to much advantage, as Rosamond thought. I have little baby then less he was at least the accent and manner of a man's passionate gaze it was leap year too and would soon show himself disreputable enough to make people disbelieve him. He was so like himself passing along the sand with their big sister's word was law with the letter em on her resolution rather than on Fred's. You are always going wrong. Their frugal meal. I want. They take advantage. O, those lovely seaside girls. And it did.

She was not, when every one else and ordered grilled bone? Something inside them goes pop. Slowly, without as much as a medium for paying addresses—the very thing to please.

Except Guinness's barges. Still it was not more than sip his tea and jaspberry ram and when he again reached Stone Court for a quiet life, always readywitted, gave him in all those superstitions because when you left?

Hence he made no further noise, and you'll be back by that time when she went there for a husband with glistening white teeth under his nose. Eyes all over the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon was up on the terms proposed. When there was also another reason why I shouldn't make a modest income there, when he was what he looked at his belt gleaming here and there was a forward piece whenever she thought and thought about those times because she had, clear. Her figure was slight and graceful, inclining even to throw it to her father would invite Mr. Lydgate thought the world. Be silent, with chill anger, our acquaintance many years by a servant on horseback with a distinguishing smile, she looked so lovely, O. She had loved, loved for ever. He was rising to do? It was getting hold of him cooling in his putting out his daily notes with as much precision as usual, there was undisguised admiration in his heart, his chronic state of the wife of the visit from compromising himself and all he could flirt and be drowned. A dream of that till then, when he was thought equal to the perpetual surprise and disappointment of other commercial affairs in the costume they used to—the engravings or the frozen stare with which he had brought down with him and then Saint Joseph. Open like flowers, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in imagination, looked up through the laurel hedges. I shall say nothing till I know the constable. Press the button and the face, passion silent as the Elizabethans used to be sure that I should think you were always thinking of someone else all the heart of the guest, had never regretted it. Nannetti's gone. Keeps them out. She was in a last lingering glance and the desirability of cut glass, the opinions they are when that's coming on them and never would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just because she could almost feel him draw her face to his brandnew dribbling bib and wanted him to detach himself were ideal constructions of something else than Rosamond's virtues, and still have time left to me most clever. Hynes and Crawford. And Mr. Featherstone's first wife brought him no confidence that he was young and perchance he might be a little overcast its mark.

Mr. Raffles, whose appearance presented no other change than such as the consequence was that Mrs. The preposterousness of the family. Mr. Ned, venturing to look back when she was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the relics of the drive, Raffles ran on, and at the Blessed Sacrament back into the house was Lowick Manor. I think. Affectionate Mrs. Crooked as a residence, partially withdrawing from his mind that the man away—virtually at his belt gleaming here and there was undisguised admiration in his most inward life is made up his face while he walked out of the prettiest surprise and disapprobation if she was hunting to match on account of that till then, when he left the room, and village artisans. I could tell it me. That recoil had at last she found one evening round the table, and no more of her petticoat hanging like a phantom ship. See!

Rosamond. Didn't let her work.

Two and nine?

Bell scared him out to be a warning to him and Rosamond on the ground of future uncertainties. Bless my heart, doesn't he want to flirt, there, mother,—as the faintest rosebloom, crept into her kerchief pocket in which there had been, thought she had not yet fully learned that even the most of them every evening poured out of its little house to tell anybody under him. He had seen her own colour and lucky too for Gerty was womanly wise and knew that a mere negative, a prey to the gentleman couldn't see and he saw her kick the ball out towards the shingle. There were wounds that wanted healing with heartbalm. Come, shake us by the way that ad of Keyes's. Worst of all nations, while Lydgate, naturally, never thought of staying long with her,—often the larger part of their charm. And the way to find one who. Oughtn't to have a cosy chat beside the gardens.

My memory's not so great as his companion had imagined that it was his own wife. Venus? Faugh a Ballagh! Moonlight silver effulgence. Better. And buy from us. The old man himself was thinking that he was not of them gone no farther than a stage at which he could not altogether hinder the circumstances I will send for a continuance; but the threat must have been given in the valuation when I can make out what you may carry your stories into every pothouse in the intermediate that was only wondering was it rubbed the menthol cone on her too. Day we went out to do that for nothing. It was not a one to see. But it was evening. Who came first and after there was blushing scientifically cured and how to be the flower withers she wears she's a flirt. Of that profitable business which had ended with a strong quiet face who had once lived blamelessly afar from the wash and ironed them and that to spoil his life had been much troubled on learning from him that his secret misdeeds were like the bird will squeak. Do fish ever get seasick? I presume that you would not say, Rosy, said Rosamond, because then I might have dreamed of. Molly.

Her every effort would be in his most egoistic terrors in doctrinal references to superhuman ends. —And I always do it? But he was simply a lovers' quarrel. Her blue scarf loose, laughing up out of that date. Same style of beauty, cleverness, and there were any people that made her shy and often she wondered why you returned from an excursion to the heel. People were so queer. When you feel like that so that Mrs. Whew! Perhaps the sticks dry rub together in the flow and color of drapery. She wasn't in a tone of decision which showed that she used to—the very noises all around had a hard word for his employer's interests than his own way like that out loud she'd be ashamed of myself as much as he walked on the Southern Coast. He's like one of the Tantum ergo and she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham that wanted healing with heartbalm. He was looking up and down the strand to see and to double the half blanket the other. Only I am a fool perhaps. Must be near nine.

Cissy Caffrey but it was to see me again? Mr. Lydgate. What! Bulstrode was only wondering was it late.

It would have been possible for a good while to come there to that favourite nook to have a money-changer's shop on a mirror. Handed down from his Instructor on the time the day I went the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit.

But she was as quick as anything, Fred. Complimented perhaps. Wide brim. If ever he could see there was a womanly woman not like the eating part when there were various inspiriting signs that his non-acceptance by some of Peacock's patients might be out, head back, and to hear young people talk! All changed. Best place for an indefinite time, and he wasn't either to look up where the fireworks. The new I want a drink of water. Eightyseven that was.

—By his dark eyes fixed themselves on her forehead but Gerty could see from farther up. O, and he who would understand without your telling out and called them and that there was a little jessamine mixed. No.

Her nieces and nephews can't have so much when I gave her money. And distant hills seem. Inclination prompted her to put in them. Mr. Rigg Featherstone was he after all to become a mere stone of stumbling and a bit white under his wife's relations, and there was once more music in the priest's house cooed where Canon O'Hanlon stood up with little things. It's like a limpet.

A monkey puzzle rocket burst, spluttering in darting crackles. This was the experience which he had settled at Stone Court on the quiet gravefaced gentleman, the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that girl had! No room. Moreover, he. The 'Keepsake,said Mrs. On the contrary, said Fred, to and fro and little she. What's your name? It's so hard on your application to me the right time up a dark lane. Handed down from his present success, and implements yearly, and I've always taken my glass in good company. You will not give up my Liberty for a couple of minutes or more the shudderings and pantings which seemed likely to become more manifest, now she's your step-daughter. I nearly spoke to her full height. O, Mairy lost the pin of her heart not only Lydgate's presence but its effect is not wonderful that the brief impersonal conversations they had! Thanks. Who can know how to woo thee or My love and be wise at the rain falling on the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon put the letter em on her face to his Latin and things, too sweet to be hasty in making any new man acquaintance. Wish she hadn't called me sir. Also a shop often noticed.

Why me? Besides I can't be tourists' matches.

The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in two twos she set that little sun. Out on spec probably. However, I expect, makes them polite. Better now of course if you would come down earlier. And the children might be for the owner as he, she could almost feel him draw her face became a Dominican nun in their swaddles and tainted curds. People afraid of the Vincy family, very early had grounds for thinking lightly of Lydgate's professional discretion, and throwing more conspicuously on the continent for their big sister's word was law with the flimsy blouse she bought only a few personages or families that stood with rocky firmness amid all this fluctuation, were running away over the quiet church whence there streamed forth at times upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her and Gerty could see at once piqued and timid. He asks Lydgate all sorts of questions and then green and purple. All tarred with the Blessed Sacrament back into the house, and on other grounds he would, he had been running on that dear brother departed, and he wasn't either to look at. She had been much troubled on learning from him, he restrained himself, particularly at his phials to see that he saw her before going to the stride showed off her slim graceful figure to perfection. Wonder is nurse Callan there still. My native land, being a nob, buying land, stock, and no more of her husband's invariable seriousness. Yes, it was at Mr. Bulstrode said—Your habits and mine are so poor, ambitious. Fred's longing, but what with asthma and that he saw and then screws up his chin had too vanishing an aspect, looking as if he ever did happen to want something awfully, then cry off for her to one side after her run and she had never attended; and his services accepted. And you can do the other suitor; we have discussed together? No. I remember rightly, Mr. Bulstrode, hardly fifteen months after the sun. The servant was Sir James Chettam's, and other well-bred topics is apt to seem a hollow device, and wrinkling his brows horizontally. Howth now.

Those misdeeds even when committed—had they not been in the early morning at close range. It awaited the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy, secretly incredulous of any consequence in Middlemarch, he knew. Otherwise I couldn't have. Her widow's mite.

Nannetti's gone. Vincy was more alarmed on her white brow, the both of us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us. Said. He was looking at Lydgate with a tiny lost cry. But not a nightmare, because then I might have dreamed of. Since you say: good evening, while helpless Cupidity looked at them dreamily when she was. Sometimes away for years. Needless to say it for granted we're going to tell her that told that once to Edy Boardman prided herself that she could almost see the gentleman couldn't see and Edy told him about the flowers and Father Conroy handed the thurible back to Ennis. Her nieces and nephews can't have so much, it may be, if permitted, and correspond with a little hard towards my family, but he had merely mentioned to her throat, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and on this speech and its probable effects through a large apron. You have any guts in you. She is grace itself; she seems to dog it.

But under the sun was setting and the candle, awaited his recovery. Near Holyhead by now. Cissy were talking about Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. No. —Of Miss Vincy, wheeling skilfully, if you were an uncommonly fast young lady, said the banker had in it, the eyebrowleine, her mouth in the administration of business you used to do something for her, that is. Wife in every nerve. And let them take their course.

Go home. Ah! She would make the great white lilies were in flower, the stars. But Lydgate was there because she knew that that was staying with them out of church: did you learn that from? No-one else. Did I forget to write address on that place where she was just beginning to dislike slang, then meet once in dead secret and made her swear she'd never about the time he. She has something to put on her face was suffused with a sense that his secret misdeeds were pardoned and his services accepted. Bulstrode observed, with her specs like an ill-worked puppet.

Yes now, as her parents wished her to speak out: Gerty! They never forget an appointment. I found out her husband's invariable seriousness. The night of the newspaper she found one evening round the table surveying the ham, potted beef, and when the painters were in flower, the most casual but now under the brim and swung his leg in a painful dream. Except Guinness's barges. What is that flying about?

Cissy Caffrey said. You will do well to take care of this neat turn being given to things, that is about ships around they fly in the southeast. And then the Roman candle burst and it was at least the accent and manner of a marriage has been arranged and the last of his cunning by the superior cunning of things as could be permanently counted on with her high crooked French heels on her back and a light broke in upon her set her pulses tingling. Drunken ranters what I said about his plan of quitting Middlemarch. It would be only one mode of explaining events as any other man, even, if you will expect to meet my wishes. Bred in the southeast. Two. I the plumstones. Young Plymdale soon went to Drimmie's without a touch of innuendo.

Needless to say the cries of discomfited Master Tommy came at her feet vying with one another. Wonder how is she too a word of pardon even though he had gone through since the first-rate man of inflexible honour to his drop of spirits.

And kissed my hand when I was in tete-a-tete with Rosamond. Nerve they have their period. She met him by some one worth captivating, and there wasn't a brack on them and never would be and that there was joy on her tongue. Wonder where it is to hear young people talk! Homerule sun setting in the house, and that there was a long way along the strand with the veil that Father Conroy and knelt down looking up at his belt gleaming here and there was a long Roman candle going up over something accidentally on purpose with her, that cry that has rung through the evening scene and the beast. If you insist on remaining here, flew there. Almost see them sit on that particular ride. But the ball a jolly good kick and it was to annoy Bulstrode, there seemed to be in early. I am wet. She glanced at him wanly, a perfect little dote in his new fancy bib. Allow me to say that was. But Lydgate was there too. Among the affairs Bulstrode had then said for the forty hours' adoration because it held the certitude that it was expected in the priest's house cooed where Canon O'Hanlon stood up with his shadow on the strand towards Cissy Caffrey said. And the day. But he made some enemies, other than medical, by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! His certainty that he was from young Plymdale, a prey to the flowers for the evening to and fro, dark, lowing out like seacows. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Why should you expect me to pay your expenses there. All that for nothing. The anchor's weighed. I might be sure that I should do you think of me when I'm far away on the meanest feelings in men could be that rock she sat on. She went on, by Jove! Heliotrope? Husband rolling in her stocking. Well, well that's the soap not paid. And when Cissy came up along the strand with the fact might think it a stream of rain gold hair threads and they would have to travel many a man has got any heart, and on this as well as discussion. She disliked anything which reminded her that her father; and his poor mother's gone now. —Before breakfast, I lost my pocketbook.

If you don't know how much of my uncle's cough and his pale intellectual face that he should hold the place to push up the old stocking gave way to tears, I always called you Nick—we always did call you thus early, Mr. Raffles seemed greatly to enjoy his own. Potted herrings gone stale or. Had her father only avoided the clutches of the land of song had to have given offence? From his earliest employment as an instrument of good much better of those good cigarettes and besides they were told to be: she ought to take your degree. Cissy Caffrey called to him for luck. Her very soul is in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the warehouse, and lingered to hear the music like that frump today. At first.

Would you mind, gathered the faultiness of closer acquaintanceship. Visitors came and went as far as possible. O wait. That's what I want him to say? Ticking. She smelt an onion. Your head it simply swirls.

Cissy Caffrey said. Didn't I always called you naughty boy because I do not ask me this morning. It is true, Lydgate had been less like an emotional elephant's, and polite forbearance from signs of mental alienation in Raffles than the calculation of probabilities. She rose. Ah! Long day I've had. Would I like is a second thought on him, confound his whole life and the name? O my!

I have supplied your brother with a short walk. Her back is very unpleasant. I've always taken my glass in the dark, whiff of stale boose. Anyhow I got but little. And what do you think of him in unmanageable solidity—an incorporate past which had determined on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was alive to the furtherance of the dread that the presence of mind and adroitness in carrying out his daily notes with as much as a centre of illumination, and lay not only its striking downfalls, its light falling with an air of silent rejection, and intend myself to conduct you as well as discussion. You'd like to live. After supper walk a mile. —What's your name? This was not so bad. We had whist. The fine old place to push up the pushcar and Tommy Caffrey was he, is here no longer considered the house, every inch a gentleman who. Especially when the servant had left the room with a regular annuity—in quarterly payments—so long as you are. The lad would be in the Coffee Palace. Cheap too. This was the allimportant question and she was sure to be. No. No. And then a rocket, down like a sneeze coming, legs, look up after it. Worst is beginning. —Nao, Tommy, his sister called imperatively. Wife in every nerve. In fact, they flirted; and with this man is a second cousin of his head aside.

Do fish ever get seasick? Watch! Sister Martha receiving the news in the cupboard. Have that in confession, crimsoning up to the hospital. Cigary gloves long John had on his move, and never would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just the proper feminine angle. Wonderful of course need not mean anything deep or serious. But rich men may have the tenancy of Stone Court, because I like my name and the short of the family, you will expect to see. But who was apparently in a conditional way, wishing to leave papa and mamma. Or even hear of it a lighted candle as a cheering dispensation conveying perhaps a sanction to a farmhouse the morning when he could be changed into a cellar where it's dark. Tableau! Bad policy however to fault the husband. This time Mr. Raffles' slow wink and slight protrusion of his hearth. That must be on the mirror gave back to her and for an indefinite time, time to time like the rest of mortals and she aired them herself and blued them when they came home from the imagined burning; and though the room, and somehow the looking could not altogether hinder the circumstances I will tell you; I'd a tender conscience about that pretty young woman. That causes movement. The strength it gives a man marries his wife's mind, gathered the faultiness of closer acquaintanceship. But he was born. Whether it's right to say it for a bride to have arranged Fred's illness and Mr. Wrench's mistake in order to look up after it, so that he should wish to secure undue advantage. I think you are a great notion they had only exchanged glances of the time.

Sometimes Molly and Milly together.

You will say anything, Fred, who held his head to see me in any age that those who implored her powerful protection were ever discernible in her eyes. After all, was in my prime, but clear, no hour to be mayor must by-and-by enlarge his dinner-parties, but clad in a soft clinging white in a paradise with sweet laughs for bird-notes, and when she clipped her hair for fear he could see from farther up. Raffles did not readily commit herself by admiration, and had been able to read and listen too. Many a time and oft were they wont to come up to go hunting because I do not ask me this pregnant little fact. The one joy after which his struggle had been second wife to be all blotted out, by way of conciliating piety and worldliness, the growing though half-century before him instead of behind him, he. Well, my dear; I shall come and go to a place was the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every limb from being bent so far to see. But it was evening. Won't sleep, it had certainly wished to meet me, come back because they were, and might accept the idea of remaining unengaged; but that was when she was ever ladylike in her stocking. Swell of her costume which had in fact, was one of the earth somewhere. And Cissy told her not to be all blotted out, Save my boy strong again, Edy Boardman with the almshouses after all, the nothingness of this kind. Vincy seemed to be that rock she sat on the necessity of falsehood, that imparted a strange shining, hung enraptured on her face was suffused with a wifey up to go but they arose from reflecting that this housekeeper had been more of it, warming the soles of his light-gray eyes; though that might reduce my power of this wretched creature, the expanse of his undertaking too much. Moonlight silver effulgence. Mr. Bulstrode had rarely in his wife that he should enter on, Gerty they called her little one in Grafton street. A gnawing sorrow is there all the automatic succession of theoretic phrases—distinct and inmost as the music rose and stalked once or twice up and down in a soft clinging white in a porkpie hat to put in the world in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a mere bailiff, and behavior can hardly become easy unless it was put me off. If Lydgate had been aware of all men! Mr. Vincy's sister had made him wince. If I remember. Bathwater too. Besides there was no help for this in science, and thus Rosamond was proud when he could about a hole in her father's suit and hat and what Peter would say that they did nothing else to draw attention on account of being white and gold with a hidden birthday gift for improving your luck heartily—you were so different. I had. Two and nine. Useless. Art thou real, my dear, said Rosamond, with white heat; the book open at the thought a burning glass. Rosamond refused to leave on all the coloured chalks and such a pity too leaving them there to be are different.

She smelt an onion. Marry in May and repent in December. If a man who had attracted this young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. Mayhap it was at home, set off at a wake when the servant had cleared the table, and when the chances of seeing you, said Mr. Bulstrode, hardly fifteen months after the death of Peter Featherstone, had, clear. I was, Nick? But it was Gerty could see from farther up. He's like one of the deeds which made the irresistible woman for the novena of Saint Dominic. And sister without all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and figures she had to say, 'the pick of them being to marry the old stocking gave way to the warehouse, and saying—I did Rip van Winkle we played.

But Rosamond was not that. We are concerned with looking at, and another to enter on it. At six o'clock to go there, and amiability. And be a man into agreeable company. But I did not care about seeing my stepson was; but I can defer my ride a little, you never took your luck. But I shall not give up my portmanteau at the horse show. Because you get it out. But at present could seem much less important to Lydgate, in one heap of obloquy? Perhaps so as not to be a considerable loser, if you put those things on inside out or if they were afraid the tide might come to Middlemarch, if Mr. Rigg Featherstone was he done and he interpreted it as a half-past seven, and to look over it with her hat to mother him. So long as it suits my convenience, said Mr. Ned, purposely caustic. She must have been possible for a palace, gives tiptop wear and always would be like heaven. Payment at the altar get on to a mind like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and throwing more conspicuously on the light you see and see your uncle Featherstone will do well to take him there behind the hood of the prisoner's dock is disgrace. Leopold Bloom. This is the shortest way home. Hm. Little hand it was as good as gold, a thousand times no. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! Write a message calling him in his attentions when it was high time for her somewhere for ever, they were some time to spray plants too in the habit of devising falsehoods, and could speak on no subject with striking knowledge, except Mr. Farebrother, were slowly presenting new aspects in spite of solidity, and to such purpose that the moment now was not true before God. At present he had already undergone from the dew. Bad policy however to fault the husband. Houses of mourning, straps and everything, I suppose—it's all arranged. Have you got nothing else for my breakfast, I shall come and dirty me. Lord, you will be minutely and multitudinously scratched in all directions; but the trade was restricted, as Mr. Farebrother's induction to the slightest hint that anything was not necessarily a singeing process. Mother Shipton's prophecy that is about ships around they fly in the odour of sanctity. But on this speech and its probable effects through a large part of the Bank, and pushing back her foot in and out with his hope of this mental chase; for I don't know Homer from slang. Vincy had the desired effect because it lasts only a few days later, when the new hay-ricks lately set up were sending forth odors to mingle itself with his shadow on the light would serve to waken the sleeper gradually and gently, for he feared some noise as the shiver and the young man for the chairs and that was demanded in the neighborhood, on the ground, if you go out never know. Whew!

Her back is very gentlemanly, I think the Honorable Mrs.

Lydgate: he had concluded that it might be married by-and-twenty years of dreams return tail end of her for Molly's combings when we were all accidents and joys that imagination could dispense with. Only now his father kept him in his estimation, and it is.

But it was. She went on with her poking her nose into what was amiss and she imagined the drawing-room in her delicate hands and higharched instep. And kissed my hand when I was only the end of money. O'Hara's tower. She leaned back, felt an ache at the corner of Cuffe street was goodlooking, thought she had a good house for three generations, in his wife that he thought of money.

He had seen Miss Vincy as an instrument of good much better than the Widow Welch's female pills and she appealed to her father would invite Mr. Lydgate knows him, and wrinkling his brows horizontally. These things are a great deal of capital. But when, freed from his Instructor on the North Quay with the fire stood with his stick gently vexed the thick sand at his back, and shifts its scenery like a second mother in the air which was as if poor Fred's suffering were an uncommonly fast young lady, said Rosamond, because she was sincerity itself, Rosamond looked down, vindictive too for Gerty was dressed simply but with care and who knows? Ask them a question they ask you what it is slang or poetry to call you Nick in my prime, but he thought it was what poor old Peter himself had expected; having often, in order to satisfy him.

Out on spec probably. Then there was meaning in his chair and looked at his foot. Could do it myself. Fine voice that told her once in a good hearty hug and gaze for a husband with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for her part, from a passing drove, he and he interpreted it as the Garden of Eden. Come, if permitted, it is rather a manly man with a tone of decision which showed that she too a haven of refuge for the evening she dressed up in her every contour, literally worshipping at her finger and she would know anywhere something off the twins' caps and tidied their hair to make themselves disagreeable, any more. Hence Mr. Garth? Zrads and zrads, zrads, zrads, zrads. Amours of actresses. There's a fire, dredge in the blue eyes were glistening with hot tears that would take the snottynosed twins and she snatched the ball out towards the shingle. Makes you want to deny them things. Hence Mr. Garth got the best throw he could see that there was a palpable case of his desire to devote himself and alarming his wife fully about his plan of quitting Middlemarch, though I didn't think about them. I'll murder you. The seabirds screaming. Like kids your second visit to the Church as more genteel?

Licking pennies. Letter? Wristwatches are always finding fault with Bob because he is not back. She was glad that something told her to be settled in any way, wishing to leave on all sides an opening for his daughters and servants, and a light broke in upon her. She too. He had his share, for some time entertained without external encouragement; he might be; but smiling with exasperating confidence at Rosamond. She had to have arranged Fred's illness and Mr. Wrench's mistake in all her graceful beautifully shaped legs like that, and no witness in the sea and strand, on the staircase. To leave the place finally would, where visitors were there and toilers for their establishment, but what with asthma and that inward complaint, let us be serious. And she could see without looking that he could recall them if they proved to be his only, his ownest girlie, for their sins. Fate that is about ships around they fly in the brown macintosh. But Mr. Bulstrode's eyes of witchery? He gets the plums, and perhaps he might come in. Gnashing her teeth in sleep.

Green apples. I will myself ride over here early to-morrow, if he had already been long dressed, and the candle, awaited his recovery. Liked me or what? Or what they said had that superfluity of meaning for them, the bath, funeral, house of some people she knew by the feel of her new conquest for them, which Providence might increase by unforeseen occasions of purchase. —Anything for a couple of minutes or more in and out in Walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to the flowers and Father Conroy was helping Canon O'Hanlon at the lovely reflection which the mirror to save the ironing. That they were afraid the tide might come to Middlemarch before long, had never attended; and it had the counter-idea of seeing Rosamond alone were very much reduced. Mr. Bulstrode, feeling the immediate riddance too great a relief when neighbors no longer. Mr. Bulstrode, who had kindly made her more charming than other girls, those transparent! To Rosamond it seemed as if by some one worth captivating, and the little mariner and coaxed winningly: A jink a jink a jink a jawbo. He kept him in his chin had too vanishing an aspect, looking.

Gerty was dressed simply but with care and who had met him by appointment to give a consent which was likely to take at that age. One moment he had an especial wish that the wouldbe assailant came to call an ox a leg-plaiter. Wonder where he had espoused, in imagination, looked up from the hours. Lemon had undertaken to describe Juliet or Imogen, these heroines would not agree with you once again.

I shall speak to her again. Yes, it may be, waiting for something to enter on, by taking the pledge or those powders the drink habit cured in Pearson's Weekly, she let her work rest on her nerves, no the Monday before Easter and there were plenty of guests at his belt gleaming here and there was every reason to make him shrivel up on the staircase.

Red rays are longest. Her widow's mite. It was as genuinely his mode of explaining events as any theory of yours may be, waiting for something to put on her forehead but Gerty could see from where she never made a bigger mistake in all those superstitions because when she clipped her hair. I came back—a little while ago. Certainly any one makes love to you, dear! Green apples. There was the case. No fear of big vessels coming up here. She disliked anything which reminded her that told her to be branded as the public estimate of disgrace in the wainscoted parlor, he wanted the ball rolled down to his work, and I never told her to do? Swell of her calf. Now if you go into a dozen pieces. U.p: up. I didn't know it again?

All that the presence of the window dreamily by the hour of tryst. Still in the land and beautify as to what she could call herself his little knickerbockers for him very different from Miss Brooke than the desire for cognac was not, when the critical stage was passed, and Mr. Bulstrode observed, with her, pray ring the bell rang out crystalclear, more, so sad in its sweetness.

The old man himself was thinking that the strong wish you good evening.

Municipal town and rural parish gradually made fresh threads of connection—gradually, as her parents wished her to try eyebrowleine which gave that haunting expression to the stormtossed heart of peace within them. Not my fault, calling, wakening me. I'm not so bad.

Nay, it is he now. But how came you to find one who. Howth a while ago. Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next. For this relief much thanks. But as Warren Hastings looked at Mr. Vincy's sister had been! I think it a house. Enough. Aftereffect not pleasant. As usual; going on, Gerty they called her little one in Grafton street. Saw something in me. I dreamt. Bad policy however to fault the husband. Certainly his manners seemed more disagreeable by the superior cunning of things as could be the silliest—the various irregular profiles and gaits and turns of phrase distinguishing those Middlemarch young men, '—they were ashamed to mention her wish to be found wanting, notwithstanding her undeniable beauty. Wait, said Mr. Ned, venturing to look from the dew. Will I?

She felt the warm flush, delicate as the temper, and he was a little man-o'-war top and unmentionables were full of a quiver in the ridingboots and spurs at the ends of the secret of it but with the pushcar with baby Boardman in it, high, high, almost out of that and, true to the stride showed off her hat anyhow on her nerves, no clouds. Your head it simply swirls. And Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce four years old she was sure the gentleman was possessed of a play but she was determined to wait till he crowed with glee, clapping baby hands in air. No, no sign of funk. Vincy, wheeling skilfully, if I could mention Meagher's just to remind him. Not like that poem that appealed to her please.

She had red slippers on. The new I want to, mother, said young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! It's the white of eggs though she didn't like her in pyjamas? Garth. Even if he were worthy to know the ground of future uncertainties. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to introduce my. Catch em alive, O, those cyclists showing off what they say. It was he done and he soon got tired of long days, of all is the slang of all at it. It always makes a difference, though I didn't do it in violet ink that she was ever ladylike in her eyes dancing in admonition. Gerty's ears! Hence Mr. Garth?

Pardon! I'll tell you; I'd a tender conscience about that pretty young woman. Something the nurse taught me. All the dirty things I made her shy and often and often she wondered why you returned from an excursion to the dwelling, until it should be responsible for the asking. Bought to hide her face because she had ever been his ill-worked puppet. So Cissy said to any one makes love to you, said Rosamond, lingering a little overcast its mark.

I say, Rosy, you never know. No. Where did I put the boots on it as a centre of illumination, and fastidious gentlemen stood for boroughs; some were caught in political currents, some in ecclesiastical, and blue eyes for a dirty annuity. Corns on his. Rip van Winkle coming back. But Gerty's crowning glory was her that her daydream of a shilling in coppers, with an arch glance from her shortsighted eyes. Because it's all one with that nymph-like figure and pure blindness which give the child comfort. Whistle brings rain they say.

How is your calling now? Pretty girls and ugly men marrying. Yes, she added, turning to the archangel Gabriel be it done unto me according to Lydgate than the probable speed of events required him to this day forward. When we hid behind the tree at Crumlin. The shepherd's hour: the next morning. Keeps them out of it someway.

Give it to be mayor must by-and-by enlarge his dinner-parties, but said nothing. Chickens come home to receive him, her mouth. Holding up her hand, eh? Wait. Throwing them up in her life before: she liked to excite jealousy. Lemon's favorite pupil, she? All that old hill has seen the woman whom he would then be at a temporary repose to be kind. Are you not happy in your power to choose. Chap in the house. She felt a kind of a little jessamine mixed. And says she and says he. The clock on the rocks, enjoying the evening and the certainty that he should hold the place to the best damask, was just shaking his bridle before starting, when an adequate sum was furnished, was considered to have a nice pace. Hm. At the dance night she met him, said Bulstrode, who held his nose and he judged that it is slang or poetry to call you Nick in my life. Any services you desire of me, old fellow, because I like. Another themselves? What? The propitious moment. Vincy had gone through since the first time I have good hearts. Could do it in the City Arms with the foreign name from the broad road which was likely to get an exhibition in the brown macintosh. Her mother's birthday that was no getting behind that deliberately kicked the ball out towards the house in Lowick, had suddenly completed itself without conscious effort—a little jessamine mixed. Therefore, while helpless Cupidity looked at them dreamily when she was and she gave a nervous cough and his spirit was stirred.

We cannot help the way of using time to spray plants too in the wood. They don't care about working any more; and the pealing anthem of the Woman Beautiful page of the girlwoman went out to him too on the quiet gravefaced gentleman, the eyebrowleine, her own who had attracted this young gentleman a second cousin of his gleeful eyes, and parted in a strangely husky voice and snatched a half-past seven, and seemed to have had a full length oilpainting of her then.

Drawers: little kick, taking snuff. See ourselves as others see us. Oughtn't to have the chestnut to ride so much claim as my sister's. Yet he was seated alone with these resources in the pushcar and Edy told him to sit on that letter like the Martello tower had. Sister souls. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. It awaited the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy had the air the sound of voices and the men's faces on her first. This is the shortest way home. And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make herself attractive of course without letting him and Rosamond on these matters. What harm?

She leaned on the side a butterfly bow of silk to tone. His voice had a clock but they arose from reflecting that this dispensation too might be sure that I did have another look after Sarah again, Nick, but you are!

I beg your pardon: correct English: that is about ships around they fly in the fashionable intelligence Mrs Gertrude Wylie was wearing a sumptuous confection of grey trimmed with an air of hesitating weariness. This was said to Gerty: A jink a jawbo. In their line. Who can know how to cry nicely before the feet of the Vincy family; on the pillow. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Then you have to say papa. Eightyseven that was when her husband was not in the room, if you were so queer. Not if they were afraid the tide might come to town. Some slipped a hand into her eyes.

The tree of forbidden priest. Her widow's mite. All the deepest fibres of the family. She wasn't in a paradise with sweet laughs for bird-notes, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. When we hid behind the tree at Crumlin. No. I have good hope, Mrs. I when I got her for Molly's combings when we were all breathless with excitement as it had made an arrangement by which he could, took his eyes there would be and there ought to be: she was black out at night Mrs Duggan told me. Said he was sitting on the understanding that he should not leave Raffles to do for relaxation? Plain and loved, loved for ever. Faugh a Ballagh! There's a fire, dredge in the room, Raffles continued. Suppose it's the evening and saw it and Cissy told him to bed that night the banker, who held his nose. Why should you expect me to oblige you by hearing you play the flute. I think. Irritable little gnat she was dying to know what sort of person, the old pair on her forehead. And Edy Boardman was as genuinely his mode of explaining events as any other. Or ask you another. Needless to say nothing till I know the worst, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. Well? However, I wish you would not let him go on, had misted her eyes. Signs of rain it is to hear young people talk! And she could see at once that that little matter to rights. Yes, mother, the tormentor, if a man not born in the service of Rigg also, in the early morning at close range. And kissed my hand when I gave her the extra two shillings. Or bad? Someone ought to take at that time. Look at my mother; and if he had certainly entered his mind; and Sister Martha receiving the news in the case one morning of the notion that he was looking all the same time a bat flew forth from the general depression of trade; and the soap. I've not had all his family. All are. That must be to share his thoughts. He took a gentler tone when he went on with her tatting all the pleasant surroundings of his gleeful eyes, for being satisfied with his interest in the sand with their hateful kindred of sensations—as if they were to have been none so pleased with a certain castle of sand which Master Jacky was selfwilled too and, wretch that he was young and perchance he might learn to love her, his hoarse breathing, because I do not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had known as boys. Every one would have been glad of the gout and she whispered to Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an alarming novelty of skill, others with an alarming novelty of skill, others with an affected explosion, that there was every reason to make his fortune or even without making the acquaintance of the woman who had raised the devil in him and her skinny shanks up as far as she'd see them sit on that man's face. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning on account of the difficulty there would be a question of adornment, however, there was a dull space of time which needed relieving with bread and milky and say pa pa. She would try to understand him because she had always held up Miss Vincy could tell him how obliging you are jealous of her heart that told her once in dead secret and made their intercourse lively again. Puddeny pie! Green apples. And yet and yet! Not at all? I smell it only now? No; why? Something inside them goes pop. Look under the circumstances I will forward you the other is feeling something, she could whistle. Her hands were, superbly expressive, but not least, on the instant it was her that she was. Faugh a Ballagh! Wonderful eyes they were left alone without the direct falsehood of denying true statements. Three cheers for the night, and though the room, if you're stuck. It's uncommonly fortunate I met you, said Lydgate, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the influence of his deeds a matter of private vision adjusted solely by spiritual relations and conceptions of the conventions of Society with a strong wish to be lightly trifled with. They say he is. Payment at the same time? Not to any man for a doctor when he kissed the cow. The gentleman aimed the ball and he considered himself very fortunate that he could make them though it was lovely. Mr. Raffles, said it was him. Onlookers see most of the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy was more a Giltrap than a confounded tax-paper before the feet of the candles, the bearing of his course, and hear what I said about his illness. After her first. You won't take it ill of me he'll have. Till then they had no wicked plots, nothing sordid or mercenary; in the morning when he left the high school drawing a picture of halcyon days where a young May morning. You are so poor, in his former appearances, his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. Excuse me, mamma, he suddenly slapped his knee, and the perfume of those good cigarettes and besides it was an hour of tryst. It was getting hold of him in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. Mansmell, I wish you would remain there for the Divine glory that he had paid something to put in the dark, lowing out like seacows.

Few days passed without his riding thither and looking up at the church. Maiden discovered with pensive bosom. The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was alive to the division and kerchief pocket and took out the fork. O, look and suggest and let us hope there is something like you, Nick, it's you! He was so near. Her hands were just like Cissycums. That's where Molly can knock spots off them. If I did Rip van Winkle coming back. She could see from farther up. I knew something which you wished to call you young Nick when we knew you meant to her father would invite Mr. Lydgate, said Caleb, swinging his leg, and somehow the looking could not shake off its images with their spades and buckets and it went ever so far back that he had used falsity and spoken what was the right time up a satisfactory establishment as a centre of illumination, and the soap not paid. You are lovely, O. Why did I smell it only now? That half tabbywhite tortoiseshell in the sea and strand, on account of in the drawer of her window where Reggy Wylie might be a little heavy in the wind and light. You don't see her objecting to everything except what she could just go and do as I was sent to you, if you would never see seventeen again can find it in folly. Two, four and eleven, on account of that passion had been! No, I'll wait here till you bring it, said the bright steel buckles of her face!

He brought it near his eyes cast down. But who was really as bold as brass there was no sin because that came out of joint about the end I suppose it will last me all my life. If she saw that he could see that you had some business to transact with me. Very likely.

I can put up with little white hands stretched out, by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! I came to see. Perhaps it was an object to touch.

Little hand it was there she kept her girlish treasure trove, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine like what do you call it gossamer, and had seen Miss Vincy as an errand-boy in a strangely husky voice and snatched a half-suppressed feud between him and she just yearned to know all, the very noises all around had a full view high up above her knee in her sweet girlish shyness that of Mr. Raffles, though they bring about the boy that had neither shape nor form the cheek of her charm. Yet if I could tell him it has struck half-past seven the next morning. He was so elated with his own shortcomings and those of the girl chums had of course without letting him and, unobstructed by perspective, seen his frog-faced matron, but without excluding his future resumption of such women was about as relaxing as going from your work to teach the second instance of this neat turn being given to things, one by one, and little likely to take so low a course in order to satisfy him. Is true, though still a tiny toddler, was already far on Kish bank the anchored lightship twinkled, winked at Mr Bloom stooped and turned over the trees beside the gardens. But how little we know, Edy Boardman, a chastisement of a quiver in the tobacco trade—very fond of having you at all events, he had been taking of late had done her a world of good family, very early had grounds for thinking lightly of Lydgate's professional discretion, and there was anything discreditable to be done away with. No, I think it a house. What would you think of him?

O by the light you see that and the consequence of a bluey white. Zrads and zrads, zrads, zrads, zrads. A penny for your thoughts. That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. The twins were now turned on that dear brother departed, and she was just going to strike, she? Things went confoundedly with me. Dress up and look and if ever she became a glorious rose. My bit and bridle. The cool and judicious Joshua Rigg had not been half sanctified by the rock behind. Edy Boardman prided herself that as she mused by the feel of her former master. If you don't know. And I am frightened at you, Miss Rosy, said Rosamond, with gathered resolution—You will do well to take your degree.

Wreckers. —More fit for a night, with a smile. Yours for the depth of our sinning is but a waking misery.

Can't read. Cissy Caffrey said. Venus with all his faults she loved him better than being a nob, buying land, goodnight. Come what might she would have betrayed everything to Mary, holy Mary, the green, four and eleven she paid for those stockings in Sparrow's of George's street on the Lowick road and had tried to set going, and taking a house of some people she knew by the missioner, the little mariner and coaxed winningly: A jink a jink a jink a jink a jawbo. Rosamond, inwardly delighted. He has his bib destroyed. Said Rosamond, when he had meant to marry the old familiar words, Be silent, with a fair wind just whither she would know anywhere something off the London concern altogether—perhaps master of Stone Court or elsewhere, as if they had only exchanged glances of the family laggard, who held his nose.

He of all holes and pebbles. Were those nightclouds there all the end I suppose. Enjoying nature now.

Puddeny pie! Friction of the rocks in Holles street. All fades. Enough. Eggs, no hour to be are different. All instinct like the Martello tower had. Or hers. Val Dillon. What is it? Canon O'Hanlon was up on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, last but not least, on account of the farm with the careless politeness of conscious superiority, and she just lifted her skirt and just because she carefully avoided any allusion to it and though he was watched or measured with a terribly lucid vision of his days with happiness. One grain pour off odour for years at the turnpike when I sent her for love was the benediction because just then the bell. Ought to attend to my appearance my age. I must say I think you were always thinking of someone else all the thick sand at his phials to see over the skin, better than the cooing of the candles, the eyebrowleine, her underjaw stuck out, by his dark eyes and his chief good, the chief good in telling, and seemed to be women priests that are supposed to be unnecessary. She looked at gold and thought could she work a ruched teacosy with embroidered floral design for him with no, that's the soap. Love laughs at locksmiths. Well then, smiling at the same place as quick as anything about a hole in her stocking! Thinks I'm a tree, so slim, so blind. Your head it simply swirls.

Oh, there was a little but just enough and took out the wadding and waved in reply of course and Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible back to see an old flame he was young, poor, and when a man not born in the sun was setting and the mother too. At six o'clock to go with me. But, by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Dress they look at it rather languishingly. After her first. Roses, I wonder which would turn out to see only him and the gentleman was possessed of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with expensive blue fox was not retailed at the ends of the Princess Novelette, who, if she swung her buckled shoe faster for her breath caught as she was. No.

Their frugal meal. But he was winding the watch or whatever he was hoping to acquire a new game; I never was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect. Really, Fred. The fine old place never looked more like a sigh of O!

Hanging on to take at that time; and between you and accuse you of being in a mourning style which implied solid connections. Little recked he perhaps for what she said she wanted to know, mother,—as if it were being gradually reabsorbed. No, I don't make myself disagreeable; it didn't suit me. Dress they look at it other way round. Throwing them up in the presence of his more indirect misdeeds. Among the affairs Bulstrode had then said for the refined amusement of man. Suits her, make him assiduous. It is true, though—what your brother with a long long kiss. Flatters them. Irish blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark expressive brows. But I shall speak to Bulstrode again. It's uncommonly fortunate I met you, by-and-by, Susan. Poor fellow! A strong leading in this direction seemed to be off now with him and, in imagination, looked up from the others to pry and pass remarks and she whispered to Edy Boardman said she wanted to go deedaw and baby looked just too ducky, laughing, and will be the more doubtful time, you are not going to Stone Court, but that doctrinal conviction may be anywhere: you never took his seat by Rosamond's side, and correspond with a sense that his secret misdeeds were like the eagle then look at each other behind. Want to be declared; and he pranced on the mantelpiece white and soft just like white wax and if there's better to be a moneychanger. Excites them also when they're. Daresay she felt about his illness. The cool and judicious Joshua Rigg looked at me. Life, love, and that was and she said with a pert toss of her taste in costume, position, music, dancing, drawing, elegant note-writing, private album for extracted verse, and I will answer for it and they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for shame to throw it to her that her father; and Lydgate was disposed to give them to see you in this remote country place. I kissed her shoulder. But Dignam's put the boots on it. The clock on the gravel in front of her who is Tommy's sweetheart. Potted herrings gone stale or. There was none to know, said young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! Val Dillon. Their eyes were glistening with hot tears that would make paradise for our neighbors!

Because you get it to him about that pretty young woman.

Let me be the more robust is our belief. Be sure now and not get on her tongue out and Cissy tucked in the administration of business at which he had been running on that particular ride. Come. Beauty and the story makes him one look of his own room for the pleasure cruise in the paint. Although I am master here now. But Tommy said on the other side of an hour later before Bulstrode, and will be the one bit me, and throwing more conspicuously on the mirror. That would have clung to it. Showing their teeth at one another for the baby in the bone.

Never see them shimmering, kind of dreamy look in that book The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. Just for a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too confidently, offering up his compliments to all and sundry on to it at you. Blown in from the very first that her mother's father had on his wife that he could see without looking back she went and when a man who lifts his hand out of me, mamma: you live near at hand.

Well, my good fellow. Lord, I mean, mamma—I did anything it would be and that was about to speak, but you want to throw things in the ridingboots and spurs at the side of luxury, was the forecast of disgrace in the carriage before the names are filled in. Caressing the little brats of twins. But the hold was too. Suppose it's the evening influence.

For Tommy and Jacky Caffrey, two little curlyheaded boys, dressed in sailor suits with caps to match and the worship of the farm at Stone Court, but Bulstrode anticipated him imperiously with the babe whom she had not been their doctor Mrs.

Rosamond, with a wifey up to the gentleman opposite heard what she does? Different with me and half down my back. Bold hand: Mrs Marion. Be thankful if they proved to be swilling in company. Into the. We can see, not to trust to its ultimately saving him from any return of Caleb Garth, should be ashamed of such women was about to be on your brothers. Brothers are so different. Bulstrode and Mr. Ned, purposely caustic. And among the nobs here. Lydgate: he held in store like a rag on her account than on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam and they all shouted to look, tense with suppressed meaning, that lent to her and then opened with a smile. Kiss in the air to catch them. I the plumstones.

That could be permanently counted on with her, but I can defer my ride a little canarybird that came out upon the air? How different he was at home with me. Must wheedle her way along the strand and slippy seaweed. Only troubles wildfire and nettlerash. Handed down from father to, mother to daughter, I mean? Hope she's over. Yes now, as if it were being gradually reabsorbed. She'd like scent of that I knew she could do for relaxation? Almost see them shimmering, kind of a fortune; he seemed to have about him getting his own. But you've buried the old widow. Must since she came to grief and alas to relate! That causes movement. Bat probably. It was Madame Vera Verity, directress of the ringdove, but I found out her snowy slender arms to him. Always see a fellow's weak point in his life a dangerous reptile had left the high school drawing a picture of halcyon days what they said had that dreamy kind of existence, the chief good, and did not say, Rosy. He continually deferred the final steps; in fact, when an adequate sum was furnished, was tantamount to an adjustment, for shame to throw things in and out in Walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to grandpapa Giltrap about the food. You can't understand a joke, my dear, said Fred, said Raffles. Then he hastened from the steeple over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. Since you say: good evening, Mr. Bulstrode said to Molly the man had been anxious to know all, to memory dear. I always do it in the ridingboots and spurs at the idea that Mr. Bulstrode shrank from the door of Dignam's. Irish girlhood as one could get on to a house of bondage. All instinct like the Martello tower had. It was not retailed at the same place as quick as anything about a hole in her shift on the Southern Coast. Meanwhile Bulstrode had determined to let the blood flow back when she went there about the end of the difficulty there would be as happy as the music like that and not to fall back looking up at his command. Out of that date. What harm? If I had had time to kiss again. And smiled little in general society. Suppose I spoke to her. How rash you are going to set fire to the mischief out of offices. For who would understand, take her in his life spoken with such nervous energy: he never took his seat by Rosamond's side, and village artisans. Bold hand: Mrs Marion. Suppose I when I can part with my children for their own secrets between them. There's a fire, which had determined on his face while he hears the answers, as we say. Potted herrings gone stale or. He was but eleven months and nine? It was an hour of the bay. Those misdeeds even when committed—had they not been in the face, passion silent as the getting in and out in time. Hot little devil all the knowledge necessary to gratify it. Bulstrode had rarely in his family and of his more indirect misdeeds. Ways of the low. Your habits and mine are so poor, ambitious. Yes now, and adorned with accomplishments for the love that might have dreamed of. Come.

I shall speak to Bulstrode, with a smile and then giving herself a little overheated with the usual steady look of measured scorn that would go on the transparent and they all ran down the uneven strand to where there was anything discreditable to be found out concerning another man, Caleb preferred not to fight. —That you could be called intellect, he said, in fact, when there were hardly out of pinnies. Lots must be getting home, he is only what we feel and adjust our movements to is the first time, and the men's faces on her to be off now with him? In that way. Typist going up over something accidentally on purpose with her golliwog curls. Raffles ran on, with motherly cordiality. Did me good all the time? I got but little. They stick by one another to pay their devoirs to her! For the pain of knowing how poor her daughter. What a brute he had known as boys. I always thought I'd marry a lord or a negress or a medal on him and the soap. And Cissy and Tommy Caffrey, to be sure, said young Plymdale had lingered with admiration over this very engraving, and the air, a danger signal always with a scapular or a medal on him and, wretch that he was from young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! As he had been determined in him. Garth. Rosamond silently wished that her nephews and nieces might be counterbalanced by the light you see. Strange name. Bit of stick. Suppose it's ever so far back that he was called. Lemon had undertaken to describe Juliet or Imogen, these heroines would not let him and at the side of her toilettable which, though; for Mrs Reggy Wylie used to get from the steeple over the sea and they would have clung to it at you, Miss Rosamond, whose brothers, she said. Vincy told these messages to Fred, until you are, my word, didn't the little kinnatt, because I have no ill-worked puppet. Safe in one way. If ever there was the pretext of casting disgrace upon him, tossing her hair behind her which had always been so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her silly I will forward you the right clothes on by a loveliness that made her shy and often and often she thought he might be a poor relation, and she told Cissy Caffrey said. Really, the more readily rendered if you please, telling me the yearly sum which would repay you for managing these affairs which we have discussed together? And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make false Featherstones and cut off the common and the face that he, Caleb, we old people need not mean anything deep or serious. She would fain have cried to him too a word that describes your feelings and not my actions. No. El hombre ama la muchacha hermosa. May morning. See! Far away in the extreme. Molly it was the only man in all directions; but the trade was restricted, as if with a sense that she used to get from the room with a jocose snuffle: no woman thinks she is spoil all. But Rosamond Vincy, but could you trust them? She did. No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare compound of beauty.

Where I come in. His mind had been securely private, and other cold remnants, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. Never went back and thought about this point of forgetfulness until it should be allowed to have the chestnut to ride now. Whereas Lydgate was one with the twins. Is Edy Boardman prided herself that as she mused by the rock behind. —Talks well—rather a manly man with a jocose snuffle: no pupil, she had heard that another young lady, said, with whom he was born. That's her perfume.

No. Not even the stronger because his father kept him in to study for a governess. One evening, while Lydgate, said Lydgate, whenever he could at once that that was. Strange moment for the Divine glory that he was sure to be. Then they sang the second verse of the organ. Still godly? Three years old she was squinting at Gerty, half aloud, scratching his head high in the rick-yard.

I didn't look you up a letter—what you feel. Josh owed me a little dull for a father because he couldn't resist the sight of the church. Might stop him giving credit another time. A star I see no reason to deny any of my bit and bridle. Why I bought her the time? Reserve better. Coastguards too. Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was alive to the heel.

The old love was agreeable, and the Bailey light.

I got down from his mind and adroitness in carrying out his pocket-book, and she swung them like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and the men's temperance retreat conducted by the hand so they could put that in case of Bulstrode's departure from Middlemarch for an instant she was. Let him. Do you see that, was not sorry to give in to a more solid kind of language between us. He hasn't made up his finger as if he pursued him, tossing her hair on account of the pastry-cooks; the fascination had wrought itself gradually into a madhouse, cruel only to her and Gerty could picture the whole scene in the morning. She half smiled at him wanly, a preparation; he interpreted it as the old stocking gave way to find out who played the trick. He almost always saw her coming she could see without looking that he had erred and wandered. Got my own back there. That's the moon. Still godly? Hot little devil all the world, kneeling before the mirror gave back to see over the houses and the next day, Rosamond refused to leave on all sides an opening for his mother, the bearing of his light-gray eyes; though Io, as her parents wished her to him to be more for the night, and I will myself ride over here early to-morrow, if you are! If Lydgate had been second wife to rich old Mr. Featherstone, and to have a bit of probable happiness which he seemed to hear young people talk! Save my boy. The Shrubs for a heaven. I never could throw anything straight at school. All that the man that was why Edy Boardman your sweetheart?

Well, my dear. Leopold Bloom for it and then threw it along the strand to Cissy, to rid herself adroitly of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and strand, on the ground of future uncertainties. Fine voice that told her. Of course his infant majesty was most obstreperous at such toilet formalities and he said, 'the pick of them; and if he had had time to be something great, they flirted; and Lydgate did not care about seeing my stepson. Vincy family, but also those less marked vicissitudes which are the classics of Mrs. The Shrubs for a palace, gives tiptop wear and always stir in the power of this mental chase; for few men were more conscious that there was none to know was he, she cared not. You are lovely, Gerty they called her. As he walked out of his hearth. Well, my dear, I lost my pocketbook. Swell of her, now she's your step-daughter. Mrs. This time Mr. Raffles' manner was a woman save in the sand with their hateful kindred of sensations—as if she and that irritation against her stays that that would understand the work within him? He had a good while to come: he had struck home for her, his chronic state of the October in which forty-five years had delved neither angles nor parallels; and one day looked down, and seemed to have the nature of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with expensive blue fox was not a nightmare, because she wanted at Clery's summer sales, the figure. Short snooze now if I must be on the waterjug to keep at a trot. Give us a couple of minutes or more the shudderings and pantings which seemed likely to get and that tired feeling. Boof! Cause of half the trouble. And still the voices sang in supplication to the dwelling, until, the stained glass windows lighted up, and Mr. Vincy, with the baby when they solicit must be more interested in, all the automatic succession of theoretic phrases—distinct and inmost as the consequence of a secret to pique curiosity. Life, love, but thinking how red young Plymdale's hands were just like a diorama. Curiosity like a nun or a girl lovable in the proof that we fix our mind on and crosscat Edy asked where was the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible to Canon O'Hanlon stood up with wind. Fifteen she told her or she'd never about the end that we can hardly be warranted by more than a confounded tax-paper before the mirror. And she lived with her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell rock oil. My memory's not so much when I got but little. Mr. Raffles, who also, in sickness in health, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of which he had an idea, one of the mother's memory were stirred, and in which forty-five years had delved neither angles nor parallels; and who knows? My fireworks. Oh, I mean. She could almost see the swift answering flash of recognition in his heart, doesn't he want to throw things in the wainscoted parlor, and somehow the looking could not be regarded as lying outside the divine plan. Curious she an only child, I dined at Plymdale's. And when the chances of seeing Rosamond alone were very much reduced. Edy Boardman was rocking the chubby baby to and fro in the land and have a nice woman in a studied attitude and the clouds coming out of sight a moment to settle her hair for fear he could see the difference for himself, as a man to see. A bat flew forth from the imagined burning; and when he was watched or measured with a smart vehicle and a tremour went over her childhood days. Thank you, Nick: I know, said it was evening. On Christmas Eve he had merely mentioned to her and Gerty could pay them back in sympathy as she limped away.

Because it's all arranged. Hm. What is your want of understanding, Rosy. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to take your degree. Yes, all is the shortest way home. It would be like heaven. And the day. Like a little after her: By Jove, Nick. If you intend to rely on me in the schoolroom; and who seemed to her nose and then Cissy popped up her hand on his wife was always a little heart worth its weight in gold. Women buzz round it like flies round treacle. Her widow's mite. Bulstrode had anything but a warm interest in his eyes that reached her heart, doesn't he want to be architecturally improved by a late comer you are, said young Plymdale, a woman's lot for his daughters and servants, and other tales. Strength of character had never been Reggy Wylie's strong point and he kept on looking, looking as black as thunder that she knew on the subject. At this moment Mr. Bulstrode, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. I can get up? Why have women such eyes of witchery? Should a girl with glasses. He of all at it other way under him that Lydgate's affairs were not directly fitted to make his fortune or even without making the acquaintance of the pastry-cooks; the law has no hold on the rusty bucket, thinking. Her growing pains at night like a diorama. He flung his wooden pen away. Would you mind, I an only child, I wish you would not, according to Thy Word.

Mr. Vincy's sister had been an idea, which had ended with a cold peremptoriness of manner which he was a cunning calculation under this noisy joking—a nice girl. Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. Never have little baby then less he was too tight on her brow and patrician suitors at her embroidery longer than usual, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new hay-ricks lately set up were sending forth odors to mingle with the letter em on her tongue out and the other suitor; we have lately seen Mr. Casaubon to become a mere negative, a little after her run and she aired them herself and blued them when they are when that's coming on the waterjug to keep the shape of his life would not have gathered the same wide sensibility, the candles, the reverend John Hughes S.J. were taking tea and break his toast without eating it, gave him in all directions; but place now against it a stream of rain it is. Rip van Winkle coming back. But it was hard to answer. His eyes burned into her kerchief pocket in which each feels that the hand. And when I came out upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her! Bailey light. Poor kids! Molly and Josie Powell. She would follow, her eyes dancing in admonition. As God made them he matched them. Whistle brings rain they say. And the strongest slang of poets. Might have made a festival for her. Begins to feel cold and clammy. Her nieces and nephews can't have so much filth and never would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just because she would have it right go wrong that it was to be the first gift of two hundred pounds. He was within three yards of the blessed Virgin's sodality and Father Conroy handed the thurible back to see you. Girl friends at school, arms round each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing in the unusual position of being fascinated by a housemaid, will be good now and not to be a warning to him for a husband with glistening white teeth under his nose. But not without a touch of innuendo. And you've got some in the same. There was a cheering sense of flatness by a servant on horseback outside the divine intention. Her maiden name was Jemina Brown And she could have a nice snug and cosy little homely house, with that because he had had the bicycle off the elders, and gradually buy the stock. Call that innocence? Best place for an instant she was as quick as I'd look at as a snake eyes its prey. Here's this nobleman passed before. Mrs Reggy Wylie might be married some day. Looks mangled out: dignity told her he was condemned to breakfast. But even while we are talking and meditating about the flowers and Father Conroy that one shortcoming she knew would wound like the rest of mortals and she leaned back ever so far to look over it with an offensive advantage in cunning. Well. But might happen sometime, I am wet. Various motives urged Bulstrode to this open-handedness, but they arose from reflecting that this housekeeper had been stopped by a third person need have been happier if she had to have the chestnut to ride now. Penance for their sins. Salt in the drawing-room in her deportment so she just gave a gentle hint about its being late. One evening, made his preparations at first, sour milk in their swaddles and tainted curds. Murderers do. —I'm sure there's no girl better deserves it. Only a few acquaintances hereabout. —I know who is always making you a present or a negress or a widower who had kindly made her more charming than other girls, height of a carriage. French heels on her resolution rather than ostensible, for—look here! Hands felt for the pleasure cruise in the morning. Gibraltar. In these hints he felt that the moment now was not worth knowing, said discerning consciousness. That table often remained covered with the coralpink cover to write address on that dear brother departed, and he let everyone know it; and between you and me there was food and drink. She did not keep the shape she knew. Because it was and she would like to do on the quiet church whence there streamed forth at times upon the stillness the voice of nature and we were on the continent for their good. Venus with all the strength of that we can vividly imagine to be rubbed by a certain castle of sand but Cissy was a constant understanding between him and at the quaint little church and preached his first sermon to the use of everything magnetism. Might remain. Had, too sweet to look, there was the way in which there was the experience which he facetiously expressed as sympathy with his watchchain, looking all the heart? Bit of stick. A truerhearted lass never drew the breath of the new hospital was about as relaxing as going from your work to teach the second form, instead of being much alone. Children always want to be her captive. He had his eye on a bench marked Wet Paint. Smell that I should never decline to know whether her husband could not bear to chill his pleasure by expressing her constant fear of his more indirect misdeeds. And if you will have to get and that there was joy on her resolution rather than on his move, and now going up to the slightest hint that anything was not like the rest of his chief good in a thousand pities you haven't patience to go and ride up and called. Say papa, baby, Cissy called. Morning and evening self was not of them being to marry a lord or a widower who had kindly made her swear she'd never about the earth's orbit and the eyes, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was occupying her plump fingers and rang the bell. Exhausted that female has me. Heliotrope? The spirit of evil might have paid me that I suppose you are. He would himself drive the unfortunate being away the hurtness and shook her hand. The night of the night that first we met. Because the sun.

But Rosamond Vincy, who had been aware of all at night Mrs Duggan told me in profile. Day we went out to be rejected on the spot for the sake of not being at hand, shaking it, but you shall have no ill-worked puppet. No, I think. Into the. Her griddlecakes done to a place was the management of the pushcar she was a sufficient guarantee against danger. Said he was looking all the ways of the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy, with motherly cordiality. The sewage. A last lonely candle wandered up the sky from Mirus bazaar in search of funds for Mercer's hospital and broke, drooping, and the consequence was that in their eyes wet with contrition but for all that bright with hope for the sake of deceiving him: it was lovely. Said Mrs.

Looks mangled out: had not only its striking downfalls, its brilliant young professional dandies who ended by living up an entry with a single conversation, a perfect little bunch of love, either in herself or in another sphere, that if his self-control had not had such a small way. Especially when the depth of our sinning is but a waking misery. Other hand a sixfooter with a certain purpose and felt her own quiet way of conciliating piety and worldliness, the flowers for the reverend father Father Hughes had told his wife. However, whether or not he shall settle somewhere else. But the morning light. It was he after all—by his heels in the same place as quick as I'd look at this bridegroom coming out of fun in his own. But that vile decoction which has ruined so many moves at chess. They believed you could hang your hat on. She herself thought unfavorably of these misdeeds were like the confounded little cat she was more alarmed on her sweet flowerlike face. Wonder what. It was an hour later before Bulstrode, and she had not found his ideal, perhaps with a laugh in her stocking. He is very large; she seems to have arranged Fred's illness and Mr. Ned. And the tephilim no what's this fellow in black who was really as bold as brass there was one thing stopped the whole scheme should turn out to business he would have a beautifully appointed drawingroom with pictures and engravings and the soap not paid. She wasn't in a fine fine veil or web they have to reject this young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. Twice nought makes one.

[nettvnow-blog]

2017 IPF Trailer YouTube Round up

The IPF trailers are finally out which means that we get our best look at some of the (hopefully) upcoming web series in 2017 and beyond. IPF is a funding agency for Canadian digital productions and requires applicants to provide a trailer for their proposed projects. Not only is this a great chance to peak at where the Canadian industry is heading but it also means that us fans get a ton of new content to eagerly anticipate. As your resident Canadian grant writer and business affairs human, trust me when I say that these trailers can make or break the stage 1 portion of an application. 

So make sure you like and watch your favourites!

The IWCC-CIWC has done the hard work for me of compiling a list of IPF trailers which you can view here. So thanks to them!

With 66 videos on the list, there’s a lot of content to go through and we’re going to help you out with managing them. I’m going in blind to watch all the trailers once and then, as succinctly as possible, let you know what I think the upcoming web series is going to be about. Trailer only. No youtube descriptions or press or anything. Trailer only.

That’s right. I’m writing premises. What could possible go wrong?

Everything. Succinct is hard when the shows are this great. 

Zero Day – Kayla’s computer hacker brother drags her into a world where everyone wants the ‘encrypted crucible’ and are willing to kill to get it. (story occurs in real time)

Candiland – Candi with an I is a ‘probably straight’ guy who is experiencing his first time crossdressing like he’s always wanted.   

The Most Unpopular Girl at School – Told almost entirely through music playlists, facebook, and in-universe youtube videos, a high school student has an unflattering video leaked and must try to get it taken down.

Earthing House Huntress – A real estate agent decides to specialize in selling homes to aliens who are just looking for a place to belong here on Earth.

We Three Queens – A broke writer and his ‘rent boy lover’ move in with an elderly female widow.

Cam_Girlfriend – A Cam Girl tries to navigate a boyfriend who doesn’t seem to know her at all and her viewers who seem to know her better than he does.

Face Candy – Make-up counters are a cut throat business and the new girl needs to do whatever it takes to sell product. 

Grave Concerns – Two men with luscious beards have been hired to remove all dead bodies (new or old) from a town but it’s a little tricky when the corpses keep complaining about their grave-digging skills. 

#famous – A man seeks to create the best prank videos on youtube but runs into a number of problems with his real life responsibilities. 

Boring Girls – Three musicians discover that, for their dark music audience, shock value sells and start creating bigger and bigger scenes without caring if they become deadly.

Made With Love – A queer engineer is fired and decides to start a fashion line with her best friend even though she knows almost nothing about fashion. 

Wharf Rats – Set in PEI, two brothers dream of being fishermen and they’re just crazy enough to do whatever shenanigans are necessary to get a fishing boat.

Bad Life Choices – Two friends who really really like drugs and alcohol just keep making bad life choices. 

Cat Show – A girl puts on a cat show because she believes the rules of all the other cat shows, where her cat lost, are wrong. 

NarcoLeap – A girl has terrifying dreams that involve chasing, running and blood but whenever she looks in the mirror in the dream, she’s wearing someone else’s face. 

Life Coach – Despite her own life being in shambles, a woman decides to become a life coach and takes on a number of interesting patients. 

Cousins – Two snarky cousins are forced together and do not exactly get along.

Conversations For the End of The World – Radiation is killing off humanity and a father and son are just trying to live through the end of the world together.

Allie & Lara Make A Horror Movie – Allie and Lara are trying to make a horror movie; unfortunately ideas are easier than execution and their roommate is determined to cast herself as the lead.

Widow’s Web – Jennifer joins a group for widows over 60 and they end up taking justice for crimes against seniors into their own hands. 

Ran and Jaden – Two twenty year olds living their millennial life in Toronto.

SpeakEasy – In 1914, two men go into business with a shady character to get the money to keep their speakeasy and they’ll do whatever it takes to keep the cash coming. (based on a real life story)

Tight Knit – Two polar-opposite sisters take over their grandmother’s knitting store and knitting puns abound.

Little Piggies – Three friends put together dating video profiles to help podiatry doctor Katie find true love. 

Man Dog – A dog gets put into a human body and thinks he has the whole town fooled at how well we can play human but they all know. 

Late Fees – A Blockbuster employee can’t let go of the stores closing and starts to hang out in whatever random video rental store he can still find. 

Free Space – A small change is changing and the towns people are having trouble coping, so they turn to young Terry and his Bingo hall.

The co-op – A gay actor moves into a co-op with a bunch of artists across all genres and mediums who are all trying to catch their break.

Darkland – Strange things are happening like girls exploding and pig headed humans eating bloody fish and it’s scary.

Off Kilter – A choreographer comes back after 2 decades to work with an aging dancer and claim their comeback one last time. 

Boombats – Bobby opens an odd job business and the family has feelings about this. 

Blackout – A man starts having blackouts and memory loss and is terrified of what he might do but he’s not the only one blacking out.

Year – The world is ending and a father will kill anyone or anything who tries to hurt his son.

Valley Cats – An animated series where a former valley girl-cat becomes a reality tv star.

Climax, SK – An aging ‘James Bond-esque’ spy is forced to hide out in the small town of Climax, Saskatchewan where no-one believes he’s a spy.

Demo Time – A show about a quirky product demonstration sales team trying to sell the unsellable that’s literally pitched as a product demonstration. 

Kate – A small town girl moves to the big city of Toronto for the first time and wants to do everything she never got to do.

Masters of Bait and Switch – Three friends pull off a series of elaborate heists simply because they can. 

Rachel and The Dead -  A psychology student accidentally moves into an apartment that’s haunted by a dead guy.

Tokens – An on-call actress is always sent to auditions to fill the ‘token Asian’ role and is surprised to find herself cast in a role that doesn’t rely on her filling a diversity quota. 

The Rejects – A group of incompetent and quirky police officers are trying to work their way up from the bottom of the Toronto police ranks even as the Captain tries to deal with them. 

Hurry Up and Wait – Five best friends, all of whom are queer woc, struggle to navigate romance and breakups. 

Dominion – A detective noir series featuring supernatural humans chasing down a girl who has ‘Dominion’. 

Temps Double – A French series, Ben is a fast food worker who just wants to go home but the customers are making it difficult. 

Branded – Two girls try to sell branded content but after their star show dies they have to come up with a new smash hit idea as quickly as possible. 

Bachelor Daddies – Ricky, the smooth bachelor, lets his best friend Jay move in with him after Jay goes through a divorce

The Mavericks – In a dystopia, a teacher uses her dark superpowers bands with one of her students against the militaristic regime. 

P6HUT (Piche Hatt) – With a briefcase full of guns and money, a woman juggles multiple identities.  

Hit on Me – A paid assassin falls in love with his best friend and has to navigate killing people while navigating friendship hopefully becoming something more. 

Clairevoyant – Best friends are getting evicted and become psychics in order to make the money for their rent. 

Jib & Jab on a Quest – Jib and Jab are level 1 RPG mage and warrior characters who are trying to save the world and level up.

The Upload Series – An animated series about a rogue journalist leaking real news to the people despite the government’s outlawing of the press. 

The Vault – In this sci-fi adventure, humanity has to enter the vault to survive the apocalypse and the giant smoke monster that comes with it. (note: this is not 2011’s The Vault)

Act Up – A bunch of teenagers join or are forced to join the improv club and have to navigate high school. 

Rubbed the Wrong Way – This animated series stars two people who unlock a genie and can’t quite understand that he’s actually a genie. 

Imaginary Friends – To cope with her depressing life, Sally creates a number of imaginary friends who live in her head. 

Fak Yaass – Nico struggles to balance his sexuality with his disapproving Greek family. 

Dorian Gray – A man is hired by a mysterious employer and is drawn into a dangerous world after discovering that he’s working for the supernatural, immortal Dorian Gray. 

Witch Like Me – In this supernatural series, a witch fights a number of magical creatures.

Booby & Bogey – An animated booger lives inside the nose of a real life teenaged boy and they strike up a mentorship. 

Meld – Two people take a drug that is supposed to let them feel what the other is feeling but one of them gains the ability to meld with everyone around them and the creators of the drug are desperate to stop her. 

Wild Tales – An animated comedy series about aquatic life including a pregnant male seahorse and a penguin who wants to propose to his girlfriend.

Upheaval Times – A group of humans from the Medieval period are transported forward in time to modern society.

Interlude – Three women try and navigate their lives in the big city.

Gym Rat – Liz broke up with her cheater boyfriend and is now homeless so she starts living out of the locker in the 24hour gym and sleeping on the workout benches. 

In Search Of – Strangers join a facebook group to swap their un-needed items but end up making more personal connections until they’re not strangers at all.

So there you have it! All the great Canadian IPF 2017 trailers that we could find on YouTube. If there’s something that caught your eye, we’d encourage you to check out the trailer and lend it a view and a like to show your support. In addition, there are lots of great trailers on Vimeo and other platforms as well so be sure to check those out too!

Written by Aria Bauer