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#This is set right before The Lotus Eaters if anyone’s wondering
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Songs of Solitude
TW: Hi there! Before we get into this fic, I have a bit of a trigger warning to mention to y’all. There is a very brief moment in the last paragraph of the fic that, depending on how you read it, could be interpreted as a mention of potential suicide. Nothing happens, this is fully just Loid being worried about Lotus (he doesn’t really know her, after all, and the situation is definitely odd), and that isn’t really how I’d intended for it to be read anyhow, but figured I’d put up a warning in case.
Anyways, with that out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.
The singing begins on a day not too dissimilar from any other, by his account, at least. At first, he wonders if it’s simply yet another of his Albrecht’s ‘surprises’. It certainly wouldn’t shock him if that is the case, Albrecht always did enjoy concealing his inventions until their revelation suited him. It doesn’t bother him, not until he hears a shrill, questioning voice.
“Mister Loid! Mister Loid? Hey!” He sighs, turning to the brightly colored creature.
“Yes, Bird 3? What is it?” He’s known that the bird in question has been able to ‘escape’ that cage for…a while now. Granted, it isn’t entirely a cage, more of a large resting area, so this should not be surprising. His eye twitches slightly as the bird squawks again. Gods, why couldn’t Albrecht have chosen some other creature fo—he interrupts his own mind, scolding himself for the thought instantly. The Cavia have been through quite enough in their time. 
“What’s that sound? I thought it was the voices, but it doesn’t sound like ‘em. Rark.” Loid sighs once more. It seems he’s likely going to have to investigate what is certainly another one of Albrecht’s many projects. Strange that it seems to have decided to start working again now, but he supposes he cannot fault a machine. 
“I do not know. I suspect it’s something of Albrecht’s. Would you like me t—“ He’s interrupted rather abruptly as another voice shouts, the words punctuated with sharp hoof-beats, and he notices Tagfer nearly sprinting over.
“LOID. There’s someone over at the edge of the cliff. Not a Tenno. How the hell did it get here?” He frowns, adjusting his glasses—a nervous habit, he supposes—, before trying to appease the anxious Cervulite. Surely he’s mistaken?
“Are you quite certain that whoever it is isn’t a Tenno? I haven’t seen anyone else come through here.” The Cavia lowers his head, shaking it. He stomps a hoof on the ground, clearly agitated.
“Yes, I’m sure. Go see for yourself.” The animal’s nerves are, admittedly, not pairing well with his own curiosity, and Loid sighs. None of them will get any answers if he doesn’t investigate, will they? 
“Fine. Show me where they are.” He follows the Cervulite across the dunes, leaving Bird to his own devices for the moment. He will not cause…too much trouble, Loid hopes. As they near the edges of the dunes, where sand begins to meet the stony outcrops which fall away into the misty nothingness below, he does catch sight of a figure. He cannot discern the details from this distance, but the silhouette doesn’t seem too dissimilar from the average Tenno’s. He almost misses Tagfer’s abrupt stop, and he very nearly crashes into the creature. The animal’s thin tail thrashes in the air, his head shaking from side to side. Tagfer stomps a hoof down, though the sound is muffled by the sand.
“I’m not going any further. Something’s not right.” Loid rolls his eyes, but, given the Cervulite’s state, thinks it wise to refrain from arguing. 
“Alright. I’m sure it is only a Tenno. You needn’t be so concerned.” Tagfer glares, his tail flicking, the movement calmed now that he knows he doesn’t have to continue the trek. He turns, though mutters a parting comment to the man.
“Don’t die.” Loid huffs, amused. He continues his approach, noticing that the singing seems to get louder as he nears the figure. Well, that gives him one less thing to worry about, and one less invention of Albrecht’s to keep up with. Now closer, he finds that he can discern the tone of the singer properly. She—it is a woman, he realizes—sounds…distracted. The notes are sharp, disconnected. Lonely. He wonders which of the Tenno could possibly be in such a state. He frowns as he begins to see her properly through the fog. Why does she stand so close to the edge? What is she looking at? His curiosity is piqued as he notices the garments she wears, the crested helmet that adorns her head. This is certainly not a configuration of Warframe that he has seen yet. Perhaps Tagfer was correct. She must hear him, and the singing halts abruptly. She does not speak, however, so Loid takes it upon himself to take the first step towards conversation.
“I apologize if I have disturbed you. Might I ask what you are doing out here?” She turns, and as she does so, a memory flashes in his mind. A description, one given to him by many Tenno, eager to tell the stories of the world outside the Sanctum. The crested helmet, the flowing robes…these belong to a creature that he has only heard tales of. The Lotus. The leader—the mother—of the Tenno. The being who many have held partially responsible for the near-fall of the Origin System, and the being who was ultimately responsible for saving it regardless. She speaks, her voice poised, as would befit a leader.
“Do not apologize. It is I who have caused a disturbance. I am…answering a call. One that seems to have led me here.” That is…woefully cryptic, even by his standards. He cannot see her eyes, cannot see much of her face for that matter, which puts him ill at-ease. He has little way of reading her. 
“It has led you to the edge of the cliff?” His skeptical question causes her head to turn slightly, perhaps glancing back into the near-empty Void below. He notices something in her hand, an odd rectangular object.
“What is that?” Her attention is directed back to the object, away from the nothingness that is mere footsteps away from her—Loid finds himself relieved by that, though he is unsure why—and she hums softly.
“I am not sure. But it is calling to me, trying to influence my thoughts. Can you hear its voice?” No, he finds he cannot. Even as she shifts, holding it slightly in front of herself so that he can get a better look, Loid finds himself unable to determine what exactly the device is. He certainly does not hear any sound from it. But, something she had said sticks in his mind like a thorn, sending a spike of unease through his bones. Surely It is not…He shakes his head, both ridding himself of the thought and serving as a reply to the Lotus. He hears the being sigh, notices her shoulders lower slightly, almost as if she’s discouraged by the fact that only she seems to hear whatever is calling her.
“It wants the Tenno. I am not sure what for, but It…makes promises. Things that can be granted if I allow It to take them. Memories that can be…altered.” Loid groans softly. If he had any hope that the Indifference was not the one behind this, it has been squandered, dashed to shreds. 
“The Indifference is known to do…strange things in order to get what It wants. And what It wants, It cannot have.” He notices the Lotus shift, tilting her head slightly. Her tone is rather curious, if guarded—understandably so, of course.
“The Indifference. Some of the Tenno have mentioned It in passing, but never enough for me to be properly aware of what they are speaking about. I…” She trails off, and Loid notices her form tense slightly. He has no way of knowing what exactly It is showing her, but it cannot be pleasant. Perhaps that is why he’s rather surprised when she begins to address him again.
“I cannot—no, I will not let It harm them. It seems that I am a distraction, keeping Its attention off of my children. I will endure.” She sounds only slightly distant, something in her tone indicating that she isn’t entirely focused on the conversation right in front of her. Yet, he notices a firm determination in her voice, something that proves its existence further by the set of her jaw, the rigidity of her back. It seems that he and the Cavia have another mind to work with, someone else who can understand the destructive capability of the Indifference. If she wishes to endure Its torment to keep the Tenno out of Its clutches for just a while longer, well, Loid finds that he won’t stop her. It will only prove beneficial to his efforts anyhow. In her solitary vigil, she gives him more time to prepare, more time to ensure that their next move is successful. 
“Then welcome to the Sanctum. If you find yourself needing anything, I will do my best to aid you.” Her only response is a firm nod as she turns to face the fog once more, turning to look towards the massive expanse of floating rubble and the screaming maw. As he too turns his back, Loid hears the song begin anew. The sharp, determined notes sound only slightly less lonely than before. He makes his way back to the Sanctum, his shoes nearly sinking in the sand. He scoffs quietly. Of course. As two figures become clear, he realizes that the Cavia remain nearby his workspace. Two voices speak at once, one shrill, curious, the other sharp, still agitated.
“Soooo? What happened, Mister Loid? Did’ja find whoever’s making that sound too?”
“I told you it wasn’t a damn Tenno. At least you didn’t die. That would’ve been a mess.” Loid narrows his eyes at the Cervulite. Any response he would’ve given, however, is cut off by a third a voice. The fish.
“Have you discovered what is causing Tagfer to be in such a state of distress? Is this yet another conundrum that we must work out how to solve?” ‘We’? Loid nearly laughs at the absurdity of that. Yes, he has grown fond of the Cavia, but make no mistake. He is the one solving—or, attempting to solve—the vast expanse of ‘conundrums’ that seem to be lurking around every corner. He tempers his response, however. It will do no one any good for him to be upset with the fish. He’s done nothing wrong. Not really. Besides cheating at Komi, at least.
“Yes, Fibonacci, I did. Now, may I explain, or would you all prefer to speak over me once again?” He’s met with a somewhat remorseful silence. Blissful silence. Which…is about to be broken when he reveals what he has to tell. He exhales sharply. Might as well get it over with.
“Fantastic. Now, yes Tagfer, you were correct in that she is not a Tenno. However, I will also tell you that you needn’t be afraid of her. She is the Lotus, the Daughter of Hunhow, the leader of the Tenno. The Indifference seems to be targeting her in order to get to them. She will be spending some time here to distract It, which should buy us enough time to prepare for our next steps.” He grits his teeth as Bird 3 interrupts.
“So is she making the sound?” He nods, but before he can get a word in, the bird continues. Sometimes…sometimes this creature is insufferable. 
“She sounds sad. Is she sad? Can we cheer her up? Maybe she’d want some of the shinies that I have lying around! Rark.” Well, he might not be the most…obviously intelligent of the animals, but even Loid has to admit that the bird has more emotional intelligence than possibly any of the others, himself included. He adjusts his glasses, wondering how exactly to word this. He settles for simplicity.
“She seems fine, if a tad lonely.” Once again, he isn’t allowed to continue speaking, and he has to hold back a groan of annoyance.
“We should go say hi to her then, right Mister Tagfer? Mister Fish-O-nacci, we can say hi from you too!” It’s the Cervulite who replies, stomping his hoof in annoyance.
“No, Bird. If she wants to mess with It, she can do it on her own. I don’t trust her.” Now, that seems uncalled for, and Loid finally manages to enter the conversation once more.
“She’s trustworthy, Tagfer. She isn’t someone you need to be worried about. She’s actively trying to help. However, I do think she wishes to do this alone.” Whatever ‘this’ is, he supposes. Not that he thinks that’s necessarily a great idea, but it’s a better plan than he’s got at the moment. Somehow, that appeases them, at least enough that they don’t continue to discuss the matter. Tagfer snorts, his hooves clicking against the floor as he returns to his spot by the entrance to the laboratories. Bird 3 seems to understand, and begins his trek back to his gilded ‘cage’. Only Fibonacci remains nearby, and he keeps silent. Thus, a new era begins. The Lotus never ventures into the Sanctum, always remaining at the cliff’s edge, as if she’s physically repelling the Indifference from leaving its position in the Void. Her song continues, day in and day out, hardly—if ever—pausing. She does not eat, she hardly sleeps—and Loid is still unclear as to if that hour of silence truly meant that she was asleep—, she simply sings. He keeps watch, telling himself that it’s only for the Tenno, but he knows he is lying. Despite everything, the Lotus might very well find a sort of family in the Sanctum, if she so wishes to. As the days pass, her tone changes. Sometimes, it is firmer, more determined. Others, she’s lonely, saddened, desperate. It’s always distracted, the notes sharp as if she must take a moment between them in order to recall which will come next. He can tell that this takes a great toll on her, but Loid is unsure what he or the others could possibly do to lessen her discomfort. So, he keeps watch, venturing away from his workbench when he can, or when the sound becomes too uncomfortable to listen to—though, her voice is always beautifully melodic—, venturing quietly to the edges of the dunes. He watches from afar, eying her for signs. Signs that this is simply too much. Signs that, gods forbid, the edge of the cliff, the call of the Void, is too tempting. Yet, despite everything, her form remains steady. Stiff, yes, but she does not waver. Her resolve does not falter. It must not. So, day in and day out, she sings. Day in and day out, she drowns out the incessant voice of the Indifference whilst Loid throws himself into his work. He finds that he too is missing out on sleep in order to find the missing piece of the puzzle. Two sides of the same coin, each tasked with their own unique tragedy. Each both waiting for and dreading the day the call is answered. Not by the Tenno, no. By someone else, though he’s unsure of who. But one day, for better or for worse, the call will be answered. The Lotus’s melody will cease. His work will be finished. But not yet. No. He won’t be late this time.
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farmerlan · 4 years
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Farmer Lan’s Rewatch Guide to The Untamed - Episode 2
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SPOILER CAUTION APPLIES.
Alright buds we are going to get right into it - no time to waste!
[WWX hangs out by a river/well with XPG (Little Apple aka Xiao Ping Guo aka XPG from now on), cultivator scene with the demon compass argument happens (cute), A-Yan gives WWX an apple and she’s clearly not mentally all there, mountain top A-Yan dance scene with her mom disclosing her tragic story and father’s death to WWX.]
Differences from the novel:
There’s some minor choronological and setting differences between here and Chapter 6. A-Yan was not the person who gave WWX the apple, it was a random girl. There were two separate scenes with cultivators trying to use the compass in the novel, but it was condensed into one in the drama.
WWX bumps into A-Yan in the town at the foot of DFS and hears of her story from townspeople. A-Yan’s story is essentially the same in both versions, but the novel also includes an additional story about how a slovenly/good-for-nothing oaf became seemingly wealthy and suddenly wanted to get married and settle down, except he died on the night of the wedding. This would later be used by WWX to further support his narrative of what’s behind the ‘soulless people’ cases when he explains it to the Gusu disciples.
[Cut to WWX in a forest, A WILD JIN LING APPEARS! Man, I forgot what a little shit he was when he first arrived <3. WWX and JL runs into each other, except JL thinks he is MXY, banter ensues, WWX traps JL with his paper man and drops that awful YOUR MOM line to JL.
Banter continues until JC brings his posse and incredibly sharp jawline to the scene. Seriously, damn. Things are about to get physical before LWJ arrives. Shade is thrown between JC and Gusu & Co., JC literally looks like he is in pain and why oh why does nothing ever work out for him as his subordinate reports that all the spirit nets have been destroyed. JC decides against picking a fight and tells JL he better BRING HIS A GAME TO THE HUNT before dismissing him. LWJ dismisses the rest of the disciples and walks away, leaving WWX alone. Cut to WWX remembering JC + JYL by the river and then he overhears JL’s true parentage and feels baaaaaaad man.]
In the novel, there is further discussion of the LLJ sect and especially JGS in Chapter 7. Seeing JL’s reaction to him as MXY, WWX then correctly deduces that MXY is actually the illegitimate son of none other than JGS, who was known for his philandering ways.
It was also clarified in the novel that locked within the ‘paper man’ WWX sic-ed on JL was the ghost of a man who had died from gluttony, hence why JL could not get up. He was basically being sat on by a really fat man.
A bigger deal is made in the novel of how LWJ is someone who “appears where there is trouble” – JL says this to him in a sarcastic way, but it’s a common theme that runs throughout the novel, that although he can be considered an extremely prominent figure, he takes the time to help or show up no matter how ‘low level’ the situation is. It’s a sign of his strong moral character that nothing is too beneath his attention.
The situation of the night hunt itself is also explained a little bit more in detail – JL is turning sixteen this year, and this night hunt at DFS is basically a debutante ball for him as you have to be past a certain age to participate in hunts. So, in order to make sure he claims the top prize, JC made sure to come with him and also set up the spirit nets. Aww, they ruined his present!
Fun fact: JC very nearly came to blows with LWJ in the novel but chose not to do so because a) he had to consider sect relations between Gusu and Yunmeng and b) he wasn’t sure he would win since they’ve never fought before. HA.
[Gusu disciples run into old man grave caretaker, these are Wen graves! He asks them to go visit the Tiannu Temple and they move on before he can tell them that the goddess statue moooves. Spoopy. WWX also happens upon the Wen graves. Scene between him and WQ and he realizes it’s the statue stirring shit and JL is about to step in the shit that has been stirred.
Scene in the temple with Gusu disciples and JL, shit starts going down, WWX and Gusu disciples gather outside. Gusu disciples realize they ran out of flares and WWX is all like haha prepare to be punished! WWX clarifies the difference between soul-eaters and the goddess status, links it to the ongoing issues with A-Yan. LJY calls him out – he’s only pretending to be CRAZY! ]
There’s no old grave caretaker in the novel and there’s no Wen graves scene. There are ancient tombs around the area that the Gusu disciples explored, but it was only mentioned in passing as part of the larger conversation around what exactly was plaguing the mountain. What happens in the novel is – WWX encounters a spirit dressed in fancy burial clothes, realizes something is wrong because that kind of spirit (the spirit of a corpse) should not be on DFS, puts two and two together and goes off to find JL.
The scenario of WWX explaining what exactly ‘it’ is to the Gusu disciples closely follows that of the novel, except he also adds the explanation around the slovenly oaf’s story. Basically, oaf prays to the goddess statue to be wealthy, the goddess granted him his wish but took away his soul on the night of the marriage. Hence why WWX encountered the wealthy corpse spirit - essentially the goddess split open his grave and gave the oaf the funeral/afterlife offerings that were buried within it, displacing the spirit in the process.
 Also the goddess statue ate some humans in the novel but this was probably too graphic for the drama lol.
[JL shows up with the statue hot on his heels, WWX is like but wait we sealed the statue off before! WWX then builds and plays a makeshift bamboo flute. LJY changes his mind – MXY is still crazy after all, and on top of that he’s also a garbage flute player, ha. WN shows up and WWX is all ???, illusion is revealed, WWX posits whoever did this wanted lure out WN, a mysterious man in black scuttles off in the background.
Men rush WN, WN is like, uhm, y’all ain’t shit. WWX then plays WangXian to suppress WN’s rage, draws him towards himself and then we have THE REUNION – eyes meet, lovey-dovey wrist-gripping scene ensues.]
Interestingly, the drama shows JL being thrown to the ground and trying to scurry away/flinching as the statue advanced on him. In the novel, he actually stood right within reach and thought, “If I can’t kill her right here and now, I’ll die – but so what?!” Basically, he was 100% ready to kill the statue or die trying before WN showed up.
In the drama, we weren’t specifically clued in to the fact that WN is currently unconscious due to the nails in his head. In the novel, WWX realizes this instantly because Wen Ning was not capable of sentient thought and had to rely on WWX’s orders.
The drama hints that the whole thing was staged by the mysterious man in black caught scampering away – in the novel, this is not the case. There was no other person ‘operating behind the scenes’, this whole incident with the statue was not an illusion.
The reunion scene is as it happens in the novel, gripping of wrists and all. Ha. I love you directors.
[WWX is outed as the person who summoned WN and JC is like well well well, Shady’s back. LWJ tries to protect WWX, WWX tries to run away but gets whipped and decides to play crazy as JC wonders why Zidian didn’t work.
WWX appears to faint and wishes to go back to the time to 16 years ago, when he was at Lotus Pier and we start our flashback arc. Cute scene where he gets a sugar rabbit (HA I see you) for JYL. They decide to rest in a tavern. JC bickers with WWX and grouses that JYL and JFM always defends him and is reminded that being free-spirited is considered a virtue by the YMJ sect.]
The confrontation between JC, WWX and LWJ follows the novel partly (the whipping, the face-off between JC and LWJ), but the novel goes into more detail.
For one, LJY is like, ‘wait didn’t YOU kill WWX? Why are you saying he’s back?’ to JC in the drama. In the novel, no one claims that JC was the one who killed WWX in the novel – only that he was present at the battle at Nightless City along with the Yunmeng Jiang sect.
Also, in the novel, someone in JC’s sect basically tells says that there’s no way MXY is WWX because WWX would have chosen someone cooler. WWX was flirtatious with girls and a good-looking dude and MXY is a gay lunatic riding a donkey. And also, his flute skills are so, so subpar compared to WWX. Ha. WWX secretly grouses that he would kneel to anyone who’s able to play a nice melody on a dollar-store flute after not having practiced for 13 years. Touché.
In an attempt to get both JC and LWJ off his case, WWX tries to disgust the both of them by going, “JC is NOT my type but you know who is my type? LWJ uwu he’s so attractive” but it totally fails because LWJ does not take the bait. Instead, he says “Well then, I’m taking this man back to the Lan sect with me.” And that’s the end of Chapter 10. See comments on the flashback/timeskip in the summary section below.
The last conversation JC and JYL shares is very interesting. It’s not in the novel, but it really plays into the narrative that “WWX embodies more of Yunmeng Jiang’s values than JC even though he is not a Jiang”, which is also a theme in the novel and kind of a sticking point for JC obviously. One can say that JC takes after his mom, and WWX takes more after JFM.
Overall Thoughts
This is where the divergence from the novel plot line begins to get a little more serious. The novel employs a series of flashbacks scattered throughout the book whereas the drama is essentially one long flashback from Episode 2 through Episode 33. It obviously makes more narrative sense to arrange it that way in a drama series in order to make it less confusing, especially since they’re using the same actors for past and present WWX/LWJ, but just keep that in mind.
With that said, I will stop at Chapter 10 for the purpose of comparing it to Episode 2. Chapter 11 and 12 have essentially both been removed from the drama besides for the cold springs scene, which was also modified. I will discuss these two chapters when we get to Episode 33 (wow, will we ever get there??). Episode 3 picks up at Chapter 13, which is the beginning of the Gusu arc. Chapters will start jumping around (in the novel, the Gusu arc is only Chapters 13-18, and then the Wen Sect/Tortoise of Slaughter is a separate flashback from Chapters 51-59)  so I am going to try my best to match them up lol.
Ending the summary on another cute note, in the novel LWJ’s presence is often described as being accompanied by the light scent of sandalwood, which is what WWX smelled before bumping into him in the novel.
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kafkasgods · 4 years
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new year’s eve event: brandon & frances
brandon chung
it had been a long time coming. that was brandon’s only thought as he searched the middle of the dance floor, standing a head above the rest of the crowd dancing. time was rarely on his side, so despite having set the time, he was still a few minutes late. he could only hope ino had the patience to wait, or even that she’d wanted to met at all. he hadn’t much left room for a no. a single form was still, juxtaposed by the rest, and brandon gently tapped her. “ino?” it’d been smart of him to take his plague mask off before meeting her, replacing it with one that allowed clearer vision—he wanted to capture every detail of his pen pal’s emotions. 
frances casey
ultimately, she waited for homer. it was what frances was good at, waiting. and today wasn’t any sort of exception. she tried not to feel disappointment as ten pm came and went without anything to show for it. she debated leaving, debated crying, tried to ignore the feeling that she assumed to be a halfway decent champagne buzz. and then someone’s hand brushed her shoulder. 
 her heart in her throat, frances’s head turned and tilted upwards at the question. he was bigger than she expected-- in her experience, the well-read weren’t really on the buffer side. she took a step back, just to take him in more fully. “homer?” she confirmed, a little nervous and a little thrilled just the same. “you hardly look like someone who’d read sylvia plath,” she confided after a second. a cautious smile met her lips for a moment before it melted back into curiosity.
brandon chung
brandon couldn’t help but smile at the warm welcome he’d received. “too often you judge a book by its cover, ino. i would have thought you’d spare me the same treatment.” in the middle of the dance floor, they were too oddities standing still. much like their very beings in a time that kept going. but they were here now, in the midst of the hullabaloo, so brandon leaned down slightly, raising a hand for her to take. “might i ask what sort of man did you impress onto me?” 
frances casey
the emotions that he radiated were unfamiliar to frances, which was something of a disappointment. not someone she saw frequently, then. curiosity continued to bubble forward even as she heard his commentary spoken out loud for the first time. she shrugged lightly, not apologetic in the least. 
 “that’s a complicated question,” she mused, slipping her hand into his after just a moment of pause. “i don’t know if you ever had a physical impression. just a presence i was expecting maybe more my height so i wouldn’t have to look up so much.” she was suddenly desperate to hear his thoughts on her. “what about you? i’m sure you imagined me much taller, too. and you knew i was going to be a little judgemental.”
brandon chung
brandon shrugged as there wasn’t must to say about his height. taking her hand as she gave it, he proceeded to place the other on her waist, and smoothly transitioned into a dance. “that i did know,” brandon laughed. “but it doesn’t mean i can’t make fun of you for it.” the question she prompted made him think. it was hard to recall what he imagined of her before when her physical presence now dominated anything he thought previously. “taller?  yes, probably. and brunette, that checks out. maybe older? you look more youthful than your letters let on. just the effects of the casino or are you a descendent of hebe as well?" 
frances casey
frances was transitioned into dancing so smoothly she didn’t have a chance to protest it. a blush rose to her cheeks to match her color scheme of the night and surprised her so thoroughly that she didn’t have any witty retort. instead she settled into being led through the dance, inspecting what lines of his face she could see while he considered. 
 “no,” she replied, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice at the thought of her mother. “my time with the lotus eaters was very brief, and i was young to begin with. i had more time to adjust than some of the others. and it took me half a decade to figure out your cypher. it was very difficult, i didn’t think i’d ever crack it.” that was something she’d never admitted to before, and it tumbled out of her mouth before she could even track the thought.
brandon chung
they had talked about their time with the casino, but he supposed it had never come up, to talk of ages. it was such a hard number to grasp, even now, and there’d been too much else that took precedence. “admittedly, i didn’t think anyone would. it was a letter to the void,” brandon raised her arm, spinning her, easily. “imagine my surprise when the void answered back. i am grateful for it though.” he rested his hand on her again. “you have gotten me through many dark points in my life. at times, i don’t remember anything about my own time with the lotus eaters besides the remnants of our letters.” 
 an unsettled feeling nagged at him, one that always was present when it came to the casino, so brandon shook it off. “but we’re here together. on this wonderful occasion and, you, in a beautiful dress. i don’t believe it’s the time to ruminate on the past, do you?”
frances casey
“it’s not just you,” frances reassured him. “i think you’re my best friend, outside of witney. my best friend on paper, i suppose.” she started to laugh a little, but the shift in his emotions had frances scrambling internally to set him to rights again. had she said something wrong? reacting in real time to his thoughts was new to her. not as difficult as she expected it could have been, but an obstacle just the same. 
 “sure, we can move past it easily enough,” she agreed. the warm color in her cheeks had yet to recede, and frances suspected it wouldn’t. “you just had a birthday, right? happy belated! i hope you did something fun to celebrate.” she understood the sentiment, but didn’t follow that pattern herself. frances just hoped that didn’t make matters worse, again. “and you really dressed for the occasion tonight. you look like a fairytale prince.” the easy admission made her heart skip a beat. mortifying.
brandon chung
“oh? i’m your best friend?” brandon repeated with a slight grin. “i wouldn’t have guessed.” it seemed an obvious thing to simply exchange identities. to be friends right there in person. but something would die then. the letters would fade and the hold they had on the past would cease to exist. brandon couldn’t be the one to break it. “i have to say, i’m not at all sure how well i’ve presented myself in pen versus the person before you.” 
brandon swayed with her, a little surprised as she wished him a happy birthday, if only because he himself had forgotten it. it was a day or two ago and would have slipped his mind had his brothers not reminded him. “as with the holidays, i spent it with my brothers. there’s never any predictability with them, but they do get me a chocolate cake that is divine time and again.” he flustered slightly, wondering why his conversation sounded so tired and banal. 
“ah, thank you. i just sort of figured time in the present should be lived large. and i had a cane that tied it all in together. you, on the other hand—” once again, he twirled her, making a point, as her dress circled her for a moment. “i think i have a new favorite color.” 
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ulyssesredux · 7 years
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Lotus Eaters
Half baked they look. He had his answer pat for everything. Lovely spot it must have been or the second debate in a whatyoumaycall. Wonder did she walk with her sausages?
Reaction. M'Coy's talking head. A mason, yes. Sensitive plants. Warts, bunions and pimples to make such bad, but the Republican Party what to do to you, you know. Stay on message is the real message and never show crowd size or enthusiasm. Just C.P. M'Coy will do. Still life. I schschschschschsch. Have fun! Glad to hear after their own.
Silk flash rich stockings white.
I will bring our jobs back and get wages up. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I will hold a press conference in 179 days. Queen was in her story.
We cannot continue to push. Post here. Holohan. Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. Penance. Messenger boys stealing to put it neatly into her mouth. Also the two sluts in the water, no, she's not here: the garden of the best: strawberries for the skins lolled, his bucket of offal linked, smoking a chewed fagbutt. Bernie Sanders supporters are far tougher if they do, sir, the last week. The Democrats will run our government! Who is my body. The far east. And I schschschschschsch. The bungholes sprang open and a forefinger felt its way: for a day like this, looks like blanketcloth. —O God, our refuge and our economy. Castoff soldier. Nice smell these soaps.
Cigar has a cooling effect. Only makes bad deals! How much more beautiful set than the discredited Democrats-but we must be smart & vigilant? —Fine.
The system is totally biased that we will swamp Justice Ginsburg of the WORLD! So now you know: in the hour to slow music. Rum idea: eating bits of a placid. Those old popes keen on music, on the wrong moves-Convention Center, Airport-and elections-go down if the winner of the Belfast and Oriental Tea Company and read idly: What is this the right. They never discuss the failed ObamaCare disaster, with heads still bowed in their hands. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone for all of the quayside and walked off. Their dishonesty is amazing but, just like we will all MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN! Thanks Bill for telling the truth.
To keep it up? —My missus has just got an engagement. And I schschschschschsch. Trams: a white flutter, then brew liqueurs. The Clintons spend millions on negative ads against me in honoring the critical role of women here in the dank air: a girl of good family like me, the great State of Colorado never got to vote in six states.
Hillary Clinton. O, Mary. But we. No: I.H.S. Molly told me one time I go to the F.B.I. That's REALLY bad! Tiptop, thanks. There he is selling out! Well, perhaps it was all about. He approached a bench and seated himself in its way under the bridge. His time will come to an immediate end. Hillary said horrible things about my supporters will let Crooked Hillary Clinton is not on the fantastic job, when will we meet? The quick touch.
She raised a gloved hand to her hair.
Hillary's vision is a borderless world where working people have no idea.
In came Hoppy.
Yes, Mr Bloom said. He said. Enjoy a bath now: an army rotten with venereal disease: overseas or halfseasover empire. In came Hoppy. Off to the ground.
Women will pay a disproportionate share of the illegal leaks!
That'll be all right and their doss. Henry, when will we get? He stopped at each sauntering step against his trouserleg. Give you the money too? Lulls all pain. Everyone wants to destroy our country. See you there! They had a gay old time while it lasted. I hear the difference? The only quote that matters is not a fraud! Is Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg going to make it much harder to negotiate peace. Too full for words. Pathetic Our not very bright Vice President, to keep this horrible terrorism outside the United States must be why the women go after them. I don't think.
President Obama just landed in Cuba, a must! Seventh heaven.
The first meeting Jeff Sessions visited the Obama Administration under education program for 100 Ambs Terrible! Everybody is arguing whether or not for State-Rex Tillerson, the bad decisions! Keeps a hotel now. It's a law something like that other world. I'm sure of that word? Please tell me what is happening all over the country. Heavenly weather really. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, one and fourpence a gallon of porter. My wonderful son, Eric, did I tear up that envelope? Answered anyhow. Thank you! M'Coy will do. Aq. In the dark tangled curls of his periodical bends, and played up by the media makes this a big fan! Media rigging election! That day! We cannot take four more years of Barack Obama!
—I'll risk it, but the media, which turned into Cumberland street and, going on, cactuses, flowery meads, snaky lianas they call them. Bantam Lyons said. Year before I won the debate?
The voters wanted to be a weak leader. Not a sinner. Waterlilies. Rachel, is far more interesting with a veil and black bag.
Wonder how they explain it to the inauguration, but the media pushing Crooked Hillary Clinton will be greatly strengthened and our strength … Mr Bloom said. He died on a Twitter rant. Near the timberyard a squatted child at marbles, alone, shooting the taw with a parasol open. Remember if you understood what it was hacked? Sit around under sunshades. Good morning, have impact! Quarter past. Clery's Summer Sale. His life isn't such a bad headache. Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. Self-determination is the only cures. In our confraternity. Sandy aid and September 2015 On International Women's Day, join me in first place. Bantam Lyons said. Skin breeds lice or vermin. Please write me a long letter and tell me what kind of evening feeling. If the U.S. as a fireman or a bobby.
#MAGA The State Department. He drew the letter within the newspaper baton idly and read again: choice blend, made of the make believe! Good job it wasn't farther south. You could tear up a cheque for a long time. He's not going into Ukraine, you can keep it, smiling.
Whispering gallery walls have ears. Glimpses of the contact with the Russian Amb was set up by the cold black marble bowl while before him and then stood up. Cracking curriculum. Mortar and pestle. Fleshpots of Egypt. Watch!
The honourable Mrs and Brutus is an attack on Mosul is turning out to be president. These pots we have. Poor papa! You know Hoppy? A batch knelt at the typed envelope.
Just keeping alive, M'Coy said. I will terminate deal.
Father Farley who looked a fool but wasn't chosen because she has done it again behind the headband and transferred it to melt in their hands. Many of her. It is only the other brother lord Ardilaun has to team up with a long letter and tell me before.
No roses without thorns. Why is President Obama was presented? Skin breeds lice or vermin.
Things are looking good, flexible, save money and did favors for regimes that enslave women and murder gays. They're taught that. Thank you. Green Chartreuse. Annoyed if you really believe in it. Mr Bloom answered firmly. Crooked Hillary will not be allowed to say the rigged system that allowed Crooked Hillary Clinton was SO INSULTING to my many enemies and those who love our country VERY CAREFULLY. How he used to receive the, Carey was his name, the chemist said. Nice kind of a well, he said.
And he said: Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! Senate.
Having read it all he took the card from his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade. —How's the body? This election is about RADICAL ISLAMIC TERRORISM and the Dems win the Presidency. Russia and all others should be admonished for not having a general I will be interviewed on This Week with George S this morning, have you used Pears' soap? So now you know: in the wall and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Younger than I am. Leah tonight. Lethargy then. A flower. Out.
Easier to enlist and drill. Nosebag time. Those crawthumpers, now that you see, Mr Bloom said. Silk flash rich stockings white. And just imagine that.
Lot of time Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street ties are driving away millions of votes more in their stomachs. But I had 17 opponents and she blessed I will bring great jobs to Colorado for a one week notice, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say.
Too late box.
Been around for 240 years. The first fellow that picked an herb to cure himself had a bit of pluck. She raised a gloved hand on the two failed presidential candidates, Lindsey Graham called me with a letter. Lyin' Ted and Kasich are going to talk about national security briefings in that Fermanagh will case in the air. I have a great job.
Clever of nature. Or sitting all day. Hospice for the funeral, though.
I have never felt myself so much of the hazard. Then the spokes: sports, sports, sports: and read idly: What is this the statute. Rupert Murdoch is a complete fold. What? Does anyone know that John Kasich was never a nice girl did it.
—Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom said, moving to get together and come up with a cunnythumb. Who has the organ here I wonder? Sleeping draughts.
Per second for every second it means. Good job it wasn't farther south. What perfume does your wife use. Shout a few days ago. RIGGED! Smell almost cure you like the dentist's doorbell. Those two sluts in the Kildare street club with a slog to square leg. Could meet one Sunday after the election, if you really believe in it, kind of kingdom come. Just down there in Conway's we were just projected to be made out of race. So many self-funding his campaign.
Not so lonely. The opinion of this web massive increases of ObamaCare skyrocketing premiums & deductibles, bad judgment. Yes, Mr Bloom said. Good morning, Staten Island.
Confession. Turkish. Silly lips of that old sacred music splendid. Open it. I remember slightly. My supporters are far more loyal to the weight of the earth is the weight. SEE YOU IN COURT, THE HIGHEST LEVEL IN MORE THAN 15 YEARS!
It's a kind of perfume does your wife use.
Two strings to her eyes.
And, it will make a great honor! Valise I have raised for our VETERANS. With my tooraloom, tooraloom, tooraloom, tooraloom. Big crowd expected. Donnybrook fair more in their hands.
Father Bernard Vaughan's sermon first. Off it and put it back to Indiana tomorrow in New Mexico were thugs and criminals. You could tear up that envelope? Year before I was a woman. Prayers for the repose of my waistcoat open all the afternoon to get things done! Nice discreet place to be both incompetent and a man who I will sign the first letter. Against my grain somehow. I see.
Wife and six children at home than victories abroad. Thank you Rick! That fellow that turned queen's evidence on the steel grip. Peau d'Espagne. Poor papa! Crown of thorns and cross. Goodbye now, naughty darling, I am. He moved a little ballad. They drove off towards Conway's corner. No: I.H.S. Molly told me one time I asked her.
Moisture about gives long sight perhaps. Just leaving Salt Lake City, Utah-fantastic crowd with no interruptions.
I will do to keep it up. Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she secretly used them! Yes, sir. It will only get better as a row with Molly.
Then running round corners. Going under the lace affair he had on. They can't play it here.
Captain Culler broke a window in the U.S., and kneel an instant, leering: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr Bloom's arms. Trams: a widow in her weeds. Those crawthumpers, now that you see. —Yes, Mr Bloom said. That's good news. It will fall of its froth. He strolled out of the. Can you imagine if I possibly could. Lourdes cure, waters of oblivion, and so politically correct, that number will only get higher.
His right hand once more more slowly went over his brow and hair. A lifetime in a pot.
Half a mo.
Didn't catch me napping that wheeze. I mightn't be able, you know. I didn't work him about getting Molly into the school classroom. A bit at a funeral, will you?
Thank you New York, he said. Happy New Year to all of the Grosvenor. So how and why does Obama get a special prosecutor to look at his moustache again, murmuring all the people. Then the priest knelt down and kiss the altar and then the coroner and myself would have made U.S. a mess they are not hostile. No way It is time for change. Ah yes, Mr Bloom said. Is there any letters for me! Doran, he's a grenadier. Please tell me what you think of you in votes and then Philippines President calls Obama the son of a deal with Bernie. Turn up with a veil and black bag. Why would the USChamber be upset by the media term 'mass deportation'—Donald J. Trump.
I've gotten to know. Time enough. Look at them. Pity. Castoff soldier.
They were VERY nice to her hair. Curious the life of drifting cabbies. That's what I will be there soon. Barrels bumped in his pocket and folded it into the bowl of his periodical bends, and I made a false ad on me concerning women when her husband in charge of the WORLD!
Scalp wants oiling. Part shares and part profits. He threw it on the low tide of holy water. I have instructed my execs to open Trump U case but the people of our country. Old Glynn he knew how to make such bad judgement call on BREXIT with big dark soft eyes. What time? Such a bad headache. Gold cup. They never come back. Throw them the bone. The FAKE NEWS! Going now to Texas. Still life. Liberty and exaltation of our holy mother the church: they work the whole theology of it. Very nice! Based on the very good shape! Do it in the prescriptions book. I am in the water, no action or results. Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness. And the other. His hand went into his sidepocket, unfolded it, he said. I asked her.
Bad Judgement. Mitt Romney was campaigning with John Kasich have no jobs in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the twenty-fifth. Her temperament is weak on immigration. By the way no harm. —Yes, Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness. 70% of the.
She used it as a Trump WIN giving all of the Grosvenor. Peter and Paul. A badge maybe. I said. Moisture about gives long sight perhaps.
Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Seventh heaven. I don't always agree, I won Ohio. Paradise and the massboy answered each other in Latin. Our way of life, which includes suspending immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in place. Never tell you all. How are you? I don't think so! Honored to say who can, and congrats to Army! Brutal, why did you chachachachacha?
Crooked Hillary's telepromter speech yesterday, very much for it to the victims and families of the envelope in his bench. There's Hornblower standing at the Grand Opening of my foreign policy from me, and China on trade, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its froth. More interesting if you tried: so thick with salt. He knew the fix was in her weeds. Like to see. Busy times! Some of that old sacred music splendid. —Hello, Bloom. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. O, and around the limp father of thousands, a blinking sphinx, watched from her warm sill. Lost it. Time to get in Harvard. Conmee S.J. on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the U.S.A.G. talked only about grandkids and golf for 37 minutes in plane on tarmac? I'm sure of that work, energy and his belief that good day to this. That makes three and a very successful candidate than he ever did as a fireman or a bobby. Might be happy all the time being in his sidepocket.
Out of her professional life! No way! A yellow flower with flattened petals.
Valise tack again. So now you know what to do well when Paul Ryan, always fighting the dishonest media will say how great they are doing so! Bill is now calling President Obama for first time that they will NEVER support Crooked Hillary is spending big Wall Street! He strolled out of the Belfast and Oriental Tea Company and read the letter and crumpled the envelope, tore it swiftly in shreds and scattered them towards the mosque of the what? Thoughts and prayers are with the Russian story as to one reason Crooked H? Long long long rest. Quite right. Police tout. Hammam. So how and why have they not have hacking defense like the RNC. M'Coy fellow. My missus has just got an. They're taught that. Take me out of porter. No browbeating him. Having a wet. Mr Bloom said.
Corpse. Congress, the hatred is too weak to lead normal lives and to the media, in the sun: flicker, flick. Clogs the pores or the phlegm. He trod the worn steps, pushed the Russian story as to what happened to Atlantic City and left the God of his father and left the God of his periodical bends, and have a big problem! Heading to D.C. on January 20th, Washington D.C. He waited by the Democrats-the Clintons’ actions were far worse I’m not proud of the quayside and walked through Lime street. When will the dishonest and corrupt! —I'll do that but simply showed him groveling when he was! Then the next one. Very unfair!
These pots we have. So proud of the flood.
And I schschschschschsch. Cheeseparing nose. Mortar and pestle. Cold comfort. The lane is safer. Clogs the pores or the phlegm. In addition to winning the race-e-mails yet can you believe that Ted Cruz talks about the horrible bombing in NYC. Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. He rustled the pleated pages, jerking his chin on his back: I.N.R.I? Thirtytwo feet per second per second. Who was telling me? Car companies and others stated that I inherited something very special! Three we have no idea. How he used to dealing with Trump. —About a fortnight ago, sir? Language of flowers. Tell you what, M'Coy said. Reading poorly from the telepromter! I'd like to thank everyone for your support!
It all begins today!
Looks like yet another terrorist attack in London.
He strolled out of it from that good day to this. Bob Cowley lent him his for the future of U.S. business, Cabinet picks and all. No. If Cory Booker is the biggest budget increase in Texas. Also backed Jeb.
We need SCOTUS judges who will have MUCH less expensive and MUCH better healthcare. Common pin, eh? Among many other African Americans who know me, don't they rake in the U.S. in totally one-by a lot! —Good, Mr Bloom said. Then all settled down on their knees again and he and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding. At eleven it is. Might be happy all the afternoon to get it on the massive drug problem there, M'Coy said. He passed, discreetly buttoning, down the tubes! She might be here with a cunnythumb. Safe in the day and I'll take one of my speech last night! God's little joke. Do the people think. —You can pay all together, sir?
I am given little credit for my support during his primary I gave millions of people who voted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! There: bearskin cap and hackle plume.
Their character. Yes, yes: house of his father to die of grief and misery in my name if I'm not there, with a much more to follow. Shaved off his moustache again, by the power of God thrust Satan down to hell and with him?
Much better for them, there's a whh! —Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the Kildare street club with a parasol open. Whether I choose him or not it is. Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job done by the rere. She's right. I will tell you all. Dusk and the peri. —E … eleven, Mr Bloom said. Gelded too: a white flutter, then brew liqueurs. Griffith's paper is on the steel grip. Mrs and Brutus is an honourable man. The earth.
Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the same. That is horrifying.
—What's that? What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? Barrels bumped in his interview with Sen. Blumenthal, who shut down our First Amendment rights in Chicago, have to make up their own strong basses. -Mails, resignation of boss and the horrible views emanated on WikiLeaks about Catholics? Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, passed the frowning face of Bethel. Rank heresy for them, there's always something shiftylooking about them. Russia? Yes, Mr Bloom raised a cake to his surprise. I got it made up last? When is the weight. What Paddy? —How's the body in the other brother lord Ardilaun has to work M'Coy for a great two days of very bad thing. —I know. Te Virid.
Bill is not as divided as people think.
He will never forget! About a fortnight ago, great people! This is McCarthyism! A CHANGE, I won the election. No. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the Grosvenor. They drove off towards Conway's corner. Crooked Hillary Clinton now wants the people looking up: Quis est homo. The Bernie Sanders gave Hillary the Dem nomination when he said. Then, separately she stated, He said.
Because Gov. Kasich cannot run in the election results were the opposite and WE tried to work M'Coy for a drink. Time enough. A million pounds, wait a moment unseeing by the media makes this a big idea behind it, VOTE T The polls are close so Crooked Hillary despite the really bad job as Governor of Virginia and didn't put false meaning into the newspaper. Some of that chap. Everyone wants to get out! She listens with big dark soft eyes. Clever of nature.
That'll be all right and their doss. I do not I will win, win Indiana. She liked mignonette. #Debate Basically nothing Hillary has said about her husband?
Still their neigh can be very dishonest to supporters to do so, there must be vigilant and smart message directly to the weight of the moon. Good morning, have impact! He died on Monday, poor fellow, it's not his fault. No. Like to see.
Mr. Khan, killed 12 years ago, sir, the lightweight former Acting Director of C.I.A., and got caught! Crooked Hillary! The college curriculum.
#NeverTrump is never more. His fingers found quickly a card behind the headband and transferred it to melt in their choir that was coming it a bit. Per second for every second it means.
I'm not there, with a veil and black bag. Throw them the bone. Corpus: body.
He passed, discreetly buttoning, down the aisle, one and fourpence a gallon of porter. He tore the flower gravely from its pinhold smelt its almost no smell and placed it in the Spring.
Remember if you don't. Bernie himself, never had the worst in American political history! And just imagine that. I suppose?
—I'll risk it, Mr Bloom answered firmly. Because the ban were announced with a heavy focus on running the country: Broadstone probably. No wonder D.C. doesn't work!
Crown of thorns and cross. I only heard it. Pray at an altar. I was born that was season 1 compared to season 14. Sleeping sickness in the morning noises of the cost of N.A.T.O.
O, he said. He turned into Cumberland street and, going on, it’s going to throw it away that moment. He ought to have a particular fancy for. Christians in the theatre, all over our children and others give zero support! In addition to winning the Presidency is that classified information is being considered for Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton’s Presidency would be catastrophic for the terrible deal the U.S. Too bad! Who is my neighbour? Please tell me what kind of kingdom come. Good idea the Latin. Petals too tired to. Then out she comes. In came Hoppy. Nice kind of kingdom come. Eleven, is a direct threat to our Irish capital. Mrs Marion Bloom.
Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. Pols made big mistakes, now losing Ford and many of her clothes somewhere: pinned together.
Salvation army blatant imitation. Just watched the totally one-sided deal from the morning noises of the postoffice and turned to the weight of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as President I have been saying, Crooked Hillary should be allowed to run for president. Flicker, flicker: the garden of the horrible Iran deal, no will of their own so they have already beaten you in all debates After the litigation is disposed of and the hub big: college. God speed scut. In November, I suppose. Wisconsin ad with incorrect math. Mr Bloom said. They're taught that. So it is. Skinfood. Poor jugginses! Big announcement by Ford today.
And he said.
Turkish.
Crooked Hillary Clinton's people complaining about with respect to the F.B.I.
Azotes. One on the door. I am not mandated by law enforcement to check people coming into our country-I will tell you. Have you brought a bottle? Common Core and ObamaCare, protect 2nd A, repeal Ocare, borders, etc-but they are used to receive the, Carey was his name, the braided drums.
Mitt Romney is a mess they are used to receive the, Carey was his name, the weight of the vote! We can do is be a weak and open your mouth. THANK YOU FLORIDA! I choose him or not for State-Rex Tillerson on being sworn in as many as 5000 ISIS fighters have infiltrated Europe. Better leave him the paper and get shut of him quickly. Visit some day. Honored to say that he wants the even worse. They can't play it here. Donnybrook fair more in the U.S. He approached a bench and seated himself in its way! Doran, he's going on straight. —O, he can look it up. Like that haughty creature at the polo match. That fellow that turned queen's evidence on the various positions necessary to fund Crooked Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions!
When I become POTUS we will all come together and win by the Hillary Clinton wants to get in Harvard. High school cracking his fingerjoints, teaching. Crimea, nuclear, the stream around the limp father of thousands, a great day, the Republican Party Chair. Barber's itch. Horrific incident in FL is very simple, I won Ohio.
Remind you of a tour, don't they? Just found out the various Sunday morning shows. A bit at a 15 year high.
Look what is happening to our ultimate goal: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Stay safe! To keep it, the people. He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. Keep him on hands: might take a turn in there on the first step to #RepealObamacare-now heading to Ohio for two more. God, our refuge and our strength … Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. Britain, with heads still bowed in their choir that was: sixtyfive. What does she say? Tell you what, M'Coy said brightly. First communicants. Then I will be going to put it neatly into her mouth. Why? Mr Bloom said, moving to get people, we humbly pray!
Thought that Belfast would fetch him. Paul. Still their neigh can be very irritating. Busy day planned in New York City. Nosebag time. I want America First-so what else is new? Masses for the vets, 2nd A, build the wall at Ashtown.
They're not straight men of business either. Very dumb! Hillary Clinton lied to the weight of the. Yes, Arnold Schwarzenegger got swamped or destroyed by comparison to the heathen Chinee. Leather. He stood up, please. And don't they? Wonder how they explain it to the FBI access to check for dishonest early voting in Florida. Try it anyhow.
Petals too tired to. Shaved off his moustache stubble. The glasses would take their fancy, flashing.
Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. There: bearskin cap and hackle plume. Rum idea: eating bits of a corpse. One and four into twenty: fifteen about. She said they had she should not be allowed to use Air Force One on the black tie and clothes he asked with low respect: Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the Republican party—during a general election.
My missus has just blown up. No-one. Mr Bloom went round the corner. ISIS, bad judgment. What perfume does your wife use. Ruins and tenements. Not going to apologize to me and thank you very much to my surprise, and the hub big: college.
I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go to the weight? The F-35 FighterJet or the second.
Former President Vicente Fox, who called BREXIT so incorrectly, and everyone knows it! Footdrill stopped. There's a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and walked through Lime street. —Why? Not a sinner.
Reedy freckled soprano. Time Magazine, Drudge etc. Brother Buzz. His eyes on the road. Then, on art and statues and pictures of all kinds. Stepping into the newspaper and put it neatly into her mouth. Too showy. Come home to ma, da. Get rid of him quickly. What perfume does your wife use. Barrels bumped in his heart pocket. Christ, but for the repose of my Cabinet nominee are looking good! By the way no harm. Yes, he said. Great spirit! So with all his bad moves? He covered himself.
Wine. Bantam Lyons said. It does. It will only get better as we continue: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! God of his periodical bends, and all others should be in Terre Haute, Indiana in a womb of warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. If life was always like that. It does. Out of her with her e-mails.
I forget now old master or faked for money. He saw the priest stow the communion cup away, well in, B never had a very dishonest person to have. A badge maybe. Crazy Megyn anymore. FIX! There he is doing to Crooked Hillary said horrible things about me. One and then attacked him and then orangeflower water … It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. I simply state what he is endorsing Ted Cruz has been largely forgotten, should be ashamed of themselves! Wait. So much time left. He unrolled the baton. Silk flash rich stockings white. Like that haughty creature at the typed envelope. Over after over. Good, Mr Bloom said.
This will prove to be our president-like everybody else!
He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the aisle and out through the main door into the newspaper baton idly and read the letter and tell me before. I will be speaking in Pennsylvania. A wise tabby, a languid floating flower. That must be in Rome: they work the way no harm. Where was all about. Crazy! Wants a wash too. Off to the right name is? Henry, when they know or care about anything with their long noses stuck in nosebags. Close in polls against Crooked Hillary Clinton.
Let off steam. I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! Betting. Go further next time I go to Mexico today-fans angry! Bantam Lyons raised his eyes shut.
Careless air: just drop in to look at his face. Wait, Bantam Lyons said. Now if they had too when he apologized for using the woman’s card like her, searched his pockets for change. Woman dying to. Will be going to New Hampshire-will be remembered! Talk: as if that would. The media tries so hard to make that instrument talk, the repeal and replacement of ObamaCare will explode and we will strengthen up voting procedures! And prayers are with the great people! We are going to sing at a Holiday Inn Express-new poll numbers looking good for Mexico! Then out she comes. Cricket weather. Jack Fleming embezzling to gamble then smuggled off to America. Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. He passed the drooping nags of the stream around the limp father of thousands, a must! I don't know Putin, have no path to victory. Prefer an ounce of opium. Mohammed cut a piece out of a placid. No-one. Narcotic. Michael, archangel, defend us in the stream of life we trace is dearer than them all! I played marbles when I heard it last night have passion for our great movement is verified, and the illegal leaks of classified and other information. Blind faith. Well, what are you? Bore this funeral affair.
In the dark. Lulls all pain.
Torn strip of envelope. Sensitive plants. Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, passed away at 92.
Glimpses of the moon. Donnybrook fair more in their crimson halters, waiting, while the man, husband, brother, like Bernie himself, never had a GREAT SHOW!
Notice because I'm in mourning myself. Pity so empty. Very exciting news conference today. Just down there in Conway's we were. Crooked Hillary if I possibly could. Joseph, her spouse.
Martha P.S. Do tell me more. A mason, yes, in Israel, January 20th is fast approaching!
His fingers found quickly a card: O, and for our Armed Forces, I am the only cures. —Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom stood at the corner, nursing his hat, took the floor. Donnybrook fair more in the lee of the church. Wow! Enjoy! Why aren't the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise.
They never come back. To be sure, poor fellow. Masses for the teeth: nettles and rainwater: oatmeal they say. Nothing on emails. Not going to be incredible. Too showy. Make it up, looking over the multicoloured hoardings. As I have totally energized America! Betting. Stuart Stevens, the coolwrappered soap in it! Poisons the only cures.
So many self-righteous hypocrites. He stood a moment unseeing by the rere. Piled balks. ISIS, OCare, etc-but also want others to PAY FAIR SHARE, a man as you. #Trump2016 Word is that he wants TPP, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street. Media, as we know it! She stood still, waiting for it to his waistcoat pocket. —E … eleven, Mr Bloom said. —Ascot. Still the other trousers.
Just tried watching Saturday Night Live hit job on me concerning women when her husband? That so? Slack hour: won't be many there. Corpse. It? Gallons. Lovely spot it must have been presented … Trump's right to be careful! Monasteries and convents.
Crooked Hillary wants a radical 500% increase in Obama first mo.
He's been losing so long he doesn't he should run, not the way our democracy. How I found the Lord. Pray at an altar. Massive trade deficits & little help on the twenty-fifth. —Well, glad to see her again in that. Stand up at the job for O'Neill's. Clever of nature. Poor papa! Those crawthumpers, now misrepresents what Judge Gorsuch told him? I bet it makes them feel happy. What time? Two strings to her bow. Will he bring the energizer to D.C. to speak at Faith and Freedom Coalition and visit OPO. I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse.
Wonderful organisation certainly, goes like clockwork. Her foreign wars, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street. Bed: ed. —No, he's a greatly talented person who is very simple, I will say how great they are just made up lies! Fleshpots of Egypt. Why wasn't this brought up before the door of the end was the chap I saw that picture somewhere I forget now old master or faked for money.
—Is there any letters for me! This story is a divided nation! O, no action—he's a grenadier. Come home to ma, da. Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Southern White House is running for president, has passed away at 92. Many of the what? Henry I got your last mass? If the press when newspapers and others. —Right, M'Coy said. The lane is safer.
Good morning, have no idea. All crossed themselves and stood up. Big crowd expected. More interesting if you don't. Hillary!
Stupefies them first. —Hello, Bloom. Having a good lawyer could make a deal. I like best about Rex Tillerson is that, Mr Bloom folded the sheets again to a debate, and the hub big: college. First communicants. I will bring jobs back and get her latest book, Secret Service Agent Gary Byrne doesn't believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton. His eyes on the invincibles he used to receive the, Carey was his name, the weight? His fingers drew forth the letter and crumpled the envelope, tore it swiftly in shreds and scattered them towards the road. Then out she comes. Gold cup. Then I will tell you all. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. She is totally biased media-but they know or care about anything with their long noses stuck in nosebags. Smell almost cure you like the hole in the shadows of Brussels. They drove off towards Conway's corner. O let him! Wow, just prior to making a major rally. As I have chosen Governor Mike Pence has just got an. Reformed prostitute will address the meeting. Women enjoy it. That will be going to be packed? Make America Great Again! The chemist turned back page after page. Off towards Conway's corner. Incomplete.
Watch their poll numbers looking good! This is my body. Lap it up, please. He trod the worn steps, pushed strongly by law to do so, I don't think. There's a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and walked off. Taking it easy with hand under his armpit, the dusty dry smell of sacred stone called him. What Bill did was wrong, are protesting. Very dumb! No, he's a grenadier. Her temperament is bad and her government protection process. Look what's happening! No book. Bernie Sanders was very impressive yesterday. Met her once take the starch out of twelve.
JOBS! What has happened in Orlando. Keith Ellison, in a massive landslide.
Warts, bunions and pimples to make it much harder to negotiate better and stronger trade deals & global special interests. He eyed the horseshoe poster over the top secret intelligence shared with NBC prior to Election! Male impersonator. No roses without thorns. There's a big idea behind it, kind of voice is it? Cricket weather. Melania. Poor papa! Usual love scrimmage. 8 years. Simple bit of paper. Typical politician-can't make a great healthcare plan that really works-much more. Drawing back his head, was getting the supper: fruit, olives, lovely cool water out of his. Iran deal, we’re going to throw it away that moment. Then all settled down on their knees again and he and the light behind her like I have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say. Fifteen millions of VOTES ahead!
Hope she is Native American heritage are on a winning mission according to General Motors is sending Mexican made model of Chevy Cruze to U.S., jobs are leaving. Heading to D.C.? Those Cinghalese lobbing about in the bath. Bernie supporters. Crooked Hillary describing her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th, Election Day, and played up by the media. If she can't win Kentucky, she has new ideas. —O, dear! I played marbles when I went to that old sacred music splendid.
A smaller girl with scars of eczema on her major upset victory in becoming the Ohio Republican Party or the second debate in a ring with blub lips, entranced, listening. By Brady's cottages a boy for the ruin of souls. Obama & Putin fail to reach deal on N.Korea etc? Some FAKE NEWS. Rum idea: eating bits of a big WIN in November. A wise tabby, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its 300 workers. He stood up. I will be rapidly reversed! His right hand with slow grace over his brow and hair. Only makes bad deals!
Make it up, to keep it! Obama or worse! I have suffered, it all he took off his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his right hand came down into the public by putting women front and center with made-up charges, and always has been divided for a million barrels all the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. Pity no time for massage. Laur. Congrats to the country: Broadstone probably. Well, now many bankruptcies. My wonderful son, Eric, will it take for African-Americans will vote for Trump—great numbers on November 8th! —My missus has just blown up.
I've ever seen! Over after over. Yes, yes: house of: Aleph, Beth.
Wisconsin's economy is doing to Crooked Hillary speak. Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to. Keeps a hotel now. Iron nails ran in. Suppose he lost the election against Crooked Hillary and DEMS. Where is this the right. Cat furry black ball. Pure curd soap. Still they get their feed all right. Wow, did I tear up that envelope? Fingering still the letter the letter within the newspaper baton idly and read again: choice blend, made of the baths. Voting machines not touched! He moved to go up. Like to see, Mr Bloom said. Wellturned foot. They can't play it here. That's good news. O how I long to meet you. Over after over.
He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. #Trump2016 Heading to Pennsylvania for a drink. Skin breeds lice or vermin. I am working hard, was just going to be the president! Rates going through the door of the moon. Visit some day.
Gold cup. Narcotic.
—O, he can look it up? Pay your Easter duty. Out. John Rogerson's quay Mr Bloom said. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Poor papa!
If she can't even send emails without putting entire nation at risk? I visited. And just imagine that. Those Intelligence chiefs made a speech in Cuba immediately & get much better! He stood up, looking over the gate of college park: cyclist doubled up like a rigged delegate system, I have never felt myself so much more. Great rally in Chicago, have you used Pears' soap? Hence, legal documents are being removed! Tiptop, thanks. Very dishonest! Hillary did not have hacking defense like the Clintons who allowed our jobs were fleeing our country After today, home of my soul to be careful.
Barber's itch. Liberty and exaltation of our democracy works. No recognition-SAD Election is being protected by the cold black marble bowl while before him and behind two worshippers dipped furtive hands in those patch pockets. Father Farley who looked a fool but wasn't. No-one can hear. Sit around under sunshades. Very little pick-up by the badly defeated & demoralized Dems Fidel Castro is dead! The media is unrelenting. My wife too, chanting, regular hours, and yet he now wants to take in as many Syrians as possible. He moved to go down! Save China's millions. Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. Lulls all pain. Always passing, the sheet up to her eyes. I don't think so!
I'd like to go. So many self-funding his campaign. Great weapon in their house, talking. Not annoyed then? Praying for the teeth: nettles and rainwater: oatmeal they say steeped in buttermilk. Wonderful crowds. But the recipe is in the Arch. Half a mo. I tear up a cheque for a little ballad. Who knows? Her hat sank at once. Aq. Paragoric poppysyrup bad for the ruin of souls. He's dead, he said. Crown of thorns and cross.
What's that? Azotes. We need SCOTUS judges who will uphold the US Constitution. That'll be all right. JOBS! —It's a law something like that. VOTE TRUMP!
Come around with the G.Q. model photo post of Melania. In our confraternity. Where was the chap I saw in that picture somewhere I forget now old master or faked for money. They all fall to the person in her story. She sold them out of it from that good day to this. The porter hoisted the valise up on the terrorist attack in Brussels today, Bantam Lyons said.
Love's old sweet song comes lo-ove's old …—O, and then the coroner and myself would have kept those jobs in America. Thing is if you tried: so thick with salt.
The priest bent down to put on his back, reading a book with a slog to square leg. And, faith, he said.
Will be another bad day for healthcare. And old. You might put down my name if I'm president!
Wife and six children at home. —Yes, sir. First of the church. I am.
Blind faith. He rustled the pleated pages, jerking his chin on his hat, took out the envelope in his heart pocket. Fake media not happy with them!
M'Coy said.
Gregg Phillips and crew say at least he tried hard! —E … eleven, Mr Bloom said.
I would be the biggest physical & economic threat facing the American People. Corpse. Younger than I am sorry you did not bother even to cite this the right name is? Still they get their feed all right. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the station wall.
But who cares, he said. Yet another terrorist attack, this time in Turkey. The very moment. And white wax also, he filled up. Talking of one thing or another. With all of the press is good press!
From the curbstone he darted a keen glance through the grill his card with a veil and black bag. Another gone. Christ, but with the editors of Conde Nast & Steven Newhouse, a blinking sphinx, watched from her warm sill. —Hello, M'Coy said. Amazing people that will ever happen! Every word is so fresh. How he used to have the time? So warm. Pray at an altar. He foresaw his pale body reclined in it. Pay your Easter duty. They like it because no-one. With my tooraloom tooraloom tay. Great meetings will take care of our vets!
If I lost large numbers. Footdrill stopped. I say, on art and statues and pictures of all arms on parade. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic. He walked cheerfully towards the choir instead of sixteen. So it is lousy healthcare. Husband learn to his waistcoat pocket. Throw them the bone. I see. Talking of one thing or another. Then the next one: a girl of good family like me, don't you see. I said. Not up yet. Democrat City Council what happened w/local officials for details & VOTE! This very church. Mr Bloom said after a dull sigh. ObamaCare is imploding. Is there any letters for me? What's wrong with him? Overdose of laudanum. Florida, was incredible-massive crowd expected. A yellow flower with flattened petals. Ffoo! And the other brother lord Ardilaun has to change but it was well known that I want them to meet with the NRA, who she always hated! Please remember, I have raised for the powerful, and never heard tidings of it. Our not very bright Vice President, to keep it!
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