#Wynd Book One

[quirkycatsfatstacks]

Review: Wynd Book One: The Flight of the Prince

Writer: James Tynion IVArtist: Michael DialynasLetterer: Aditya BidikarPublisher: BOOM! BoxReleased: May 11, 2021Received: Library Find it on Goodreads Summary: We’ve all heard the story before. Those without will always fear magic in a city where magic is possible. In this case, the city has opted to ban magic and hunt all who dare be born with those magical properties. This was the world…

[slaughter-books]

Day 27: JOMPBPC: Reading In Bed

Currently reading! 💚

[beebopboom]

The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter

Yep! That’s right we are diving back into season 1, specifically with the last true witch, Agnes Nutter

This first part is mainly going to deal with what is in her book and is largely just a reference point. This will cover all the prophecies we know about and the images included in her book that I could find

Further analysis and theories will start in part two

-> which you can click here to read if you’d like

But other than that let’s just dive in

Prophecies 

Most of these we know and we see play out but there are a few stragglers- (which I’m not going to go into in this series just for the sole reason my very ill brain cannot handle them right now, maybe in the future)

Prophecy 1111: "An the Great Hound Sharl come and the Two Powers sharl watch in... Goeth where is its Master, Where the... Notte, and he shall name it, True to... and Hell shall flee it."

Prophecy 2214: "In December 1980, an Apple will arise no man can eat. Invest thy money in Master Jobbes's machine, and good fortune will tend thy days."

Prophecy 2213: "I tell ye this, and I charge ye with my wordes. Four shall ride, and three shall ride the sky as two, and one shall ride in flames, and there shall be no stopping them. Not fish, nor rain, neither devil or angel. And ye shall be there also, Anathema."

Prophecy 2315: "Sum say It cometh in London Town, or New Yorke, butte they be Wronge, for the place is Taddes Fild, Stronge inne hys powr, he cometh like a knight innne the fief, he divideth the Worlde into 4 partes, he bringeth the storme.

Prophecy 3001: "Behind the Eagle's Neste, a great Ash hath fallen.

Prophecy 3007: "Prayers and hope ... / Brings forth sorrow and serpents reign / For the devil lucks in plain sight / Under an arc of pale moonlight."

Prophecy 3008: "When that the angel readeth these words of mine, in his shoppe of other menne's books, then the final days are certes upon us. Open thine eyes to understand. Open thine eyes and rede, I do say, foolish principalitee, for thy cocoa doth grow cold."

Prophecy 3009: "Seven who hold the Scepter shall be killed...of them shall become a saint."

Prophecy 3011: "The exer... and churches be laid open to ... oppressed shall prevail, and oppose the cruelty of foreigners. For a Boar of Cornwall shall give his assistance, and trample their necks under his feet."

Prophecy 3012: "A shower of blood shall rain, and a raging famine shall afflict mankind. When these things happen, the Red Dragon shall grieve, but when his fatigue is over he shall recover his strength. Then shall misfortunes hasten upon the White Dragon, and the buildings of his gardens be pulled down."

Prophecy 3017: "I see Four Riding, bringing the Ende and the Angells of Hell ride with them, And three shall Rise. And Four and Four Together be Four and the Dark Angel sharl Own Defeat, Yette the Manne sharl claim his Own."

Prophecy 3477: Lette the wheel of Fate turne, let harts en-join, there are othere fyres than mine; when the wynd blowethe the blos-soms, reach oute one to anothere, for the calm cometh when Redde and Whyte and Blacke and Pale approche to Peas is Our Professioune.

Prophecy 3817: "The Number of the Beast is in the Revelayting of Sainte John, call hym in Taddesfield. And ye will know hym by this sign, that when ye do call hym, the Lesser Beaste will walk upon his hind legs like unto a Dancing Bear."

Prophecy 3819: "When Orient's chariot inverted be, four wheles in the skye, a man with bruises be upon Youre Bedde, aching his hedd for willow fine, a manne who testeth with a pyn yette his hart be.

Prophecy 3988: "Whene menne of crocus come frome the Earth and green manne frome the Sky, yette ken not why, and Pluto's barres quitte the Light-ning castels, and sunken lands riseth, and Levia-than runneth free, and Brazil is vert, then Three cometh together and Four arise, upon iron horses ride; I tell you the ende draweth nigh."

Prophecy 3989: "He is not what he says he is."

Prophecy 4009: "Where the Hogg's back ends the young beast will take the world and Adam's line will end in fire and darkness."

Prophecy 4019: "When Orient's Chariot Inverted be a man with bruises up thy bed, aching his head for willow fine."

Prophecy 4020: "Let the wheel of fate turne, let harts enjoin, there are othere fyres than mine; when the whirl wynd whirls, reach oute one to another."

Prophecy 5001: "When the skies are crimson seen, then ye both must stand between the world of life and the world of war, where the iron bird lands no more."

Prophecy 5004: "When alle is sayed and all is done, ye must choose your faces wisely, for soon enouff, ye will be playing with fyre."

and that’s all of them I believe so let’s hop into the images I could find

Artworks

Starting out on the very first page we have this

Now I could not find an exact reference to this (I know starting out strong just stay with me) but between the examples I could find plus the four wings surrounding the head I would say this is depicting a Cherubim

This next one is from the actual book itself,

This is the piece, Saint John Devouring the Book by Albrecht Dürer (1498) which was published alongside 15 other woodcut illustrations in his book, Apocalypse, all covering events in Revelations

Now we are moving into pieces that we see in the little montage moments so the images are a little less clear

This piece, Saint Michael Slaying the Dragon, is by Martin Schongauger done sometime between 1480-1490

The next piece was actually a two for one which made my job a little easier and let this post only be one part *curse you image limit*

Chariot Vision, which is by Matthäus Merian depicting Ezekiel’s vision in Ezekiel 1:5 (I couldn’t find when it was made -and now that I’m really looking at it the wheels are a little different but I’m confident enough to say it’s from the same story so the point will still stands)

and finally we have this one

With help from @gallup24 and some image manipulation finally found this piece, The Minde bould hare a fixed Eye On Objects, that are plac’d on High.

I believe to be published first along side other emblems by Gabrielis Rollenhagii in 1613 it was reprinted in 1635 with added hymns by George Wither in his emblem book

the hymn reads

A Heart, which bore the figure of an Eye

Wide open to the Sunne; by fome, was us’d,

When in an Emblem, they would fignifie

A Minde, which on Celeftiall Matters mus’d :

Implying, by this fame, that there is nought

Which in this lower Orbe, our Eyes can fee,

So fit an Object for manly thought,

As thofe things, which in Heav’n above us be.

God, gave Mankinde (above all other Creatures)

A lovely Forme, and upward-looking Eye,

(Among the reft of his peculiar Featares)

That he might lift his Countenance on high:

And (having view'd the Beauty, which appeares

Within the outward Sights circumference)

That he might elevate above the Sphares,

The piercing Eye, of his tatelligence,

Then, higher, and fill higher ftrive to raife

His Contemplations Eyes, till they alcend

To gaine a glimple of thofe eternall Rayes,

To which all undepraved Spirits rend.

For, 'tis the proper nature of the Minde

(Till fehly Thoughts corrupt it) to delpile

Thole Lufts whereto the Rody ftands inclin'd ;

And labour alwayes, upmard to arife.

Some, theretore, thought thofe Goblins which appeare

To haunt old Graves and Tombes, are Soules of fuch,

Who to thefe loathfome places doomed were,

Becaule, they doted on the Fleh too much.

But, ture weare, well-minded Men thall god

To live above, when others bide below.

(also if you want a really good breakdown of the publishers of, The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, check out the one @i-only-ever-asked-questions posted one here)

————————————————————————

so yeah that’s all I could find and like I said this is mainly just a reference post

and yes I am aware that one very obvious piece is missing that seems to be made just for this book. I ran out of images so i’ll post it in a rb

[yronnia]

[Edit: check my reblog too, screenshots from the book kindly provided by spookydazechaos]

Agnesses Nyce and not so accurate prophecies with screenshots.

The full list below.

Some are unreadable (to me), so I inserted some X-es instead, where necessary. Interesting is, that Orient Chariot is mentioned twice, in prophecy nr. 3819 anf 4019.

Prophecy nr. 3012 is only one I cant allocate, dont tell me its about Aziraphale and Crowley, when Agness adressed Aziraphale by "angel" "thyf " and "principalitee", whats the bit about the dragons? Because they have wings?

1111- An the Great Hound sharl come

and the Two Powers sharl watch in V

Goeth Where is, Where they

Notte, and he sharl name it, True to l

and Hell sharl flee it

2213- I tell ye thyf, and I charge

ye with my wordes. Four shalle

ryde and Four shalle alfo ryde,

and Three sharl ryde the Skye

as twixt and Wonne shal ryde in

flames, and theyr shall be no stopping

themme, not fish, nor rayne nor rode, neirher

Deville nor Angel. And ye shalle be theyr also

2214- In December 1980 an Apple will arise no

man can eat. Invest thy money in Master Jobbes

thinking machine and good fortune

will tend thy days.

2315- Sumsay It cometh in Londo xxx or

New Yorke, butte they be Wronge, f xxx is

Taddes fild, Stronge inne hys powr, h xxxxke

a knight inee the fief, he divideth the xxx

4 partes, he bringeth the storme.

3001- Behinde the Eagles Neste a grate Ash hath fallen.

? 3007- Brings forth

For the devil lucks in plain sight.

Under an arc of pale moonlight.

3008- When that the angel readeth these

word of mine, in his shoppe of other mmennes

books, then the final days are certes upon us. Open

thyne eyes to understand. Open thyne eyes and rede

I do say, foolish principalitee, for thy cocoa doth

grow cold

3009- Seven, who hold the Scepther shall be killed,

xxx shall become a saint.

3011- xxThe?

and churces be laid open

opressed shall prevail, and oppose the cruen

foreginers. For a Boar of Cornwall shall give his

assistance and trample their necks under his feet

3012- A shower of blood shall rain and a ragging

famine shall afflict mankind. When dhese things

happen, the Red Dragon shall grieve, but when his

fatigue is over, he shall recover his strength. Then

shall misfortunes hasten upon the White Dragon,

and the buildings of his gardens be pulled down.

3017- I see Four Riding, bringing the Ende, and

the Angells of Hell ride with them, And Three sharl

Rise. And Four and Four Together be Four, and the

Dark Angel sharl Own Defeat, Yette the Manne

sharl claim his Own.

3477- Lette the wheel of Fate turne, let harts

en- join, there are othere Fyres than mine, when

the wynd blowethe the blos- soms, reach oute one

to anothere, for the calm cometh when Redde and

Whyte and BLacke and Pale approache to Pear is

Our Professioune.

3819- When Orients chariot

inverted be, four wheles in the

skye, a man with bruises be upon

Youre Bedde, achinge his head

for willowfine, a manne who

resterh with a pyn yette his

hart be.

3988- Whene menne of crocus come frome the

Earth and green manne frome thee Sky, yette ken

not why, and Plutos barres quitte the light- ning

castels, and sunken landes riseth, and Levia- than

runneth free, and Brazil is vert, then Three cometh

together and Four arise, upon iron horses ride, I tell

you the ende draweth nigh.

3989- He is not what he says he is

4009- Where the Hoggs back end the young

beast will take the world and Adams line will end

in fire and darkness.

4019- When Orients chariot inverted be a

man with bruises up thy bed, aching his head for

willow fine

4020- Let the wheel of fate turne, let harts

enjoin, there are other fyres than myne, when the

whirl wynd whirls, reach oute one to another.

5001- When the skies are xxxx, then ye

both must stand between the world and life and the

world of wae, where the iron bird lands no more

5004- When alle is fayed and all is done, ye

must choofe your faces wisely, for soon enouff

ye will be playing with fyre

[jacaela]

I don't know how you read the book if you say Rhaenyra didn't try to do anything about the paster, the rebellion, and the dragon killing.

The City Watch had come in strength, five hundred men clad in black ringmail, steel caps, and long golden cloaks, armed with short swords, spears, and spiked cudgels. They formed up on the south side of the square, behind a wall of shields and spears. At their head rode Ser Luthor Largent upon an armored warhorse, a longsword in his hand. The mere sight of him was enough to send hundreds streaming away into the wynds and alleys and side streets. Hundreds more fled when Ser Luthor ordered the gold cloaks to advance.

As soon as word had reached her that the Shepherd’s savage flock was on the march, Rhaenyra sent riders to Ser Balon at the Old Gate and Ser Garth at the Dragon Gate, commanding them to disperse the lambs, seize the Shepherd, and defend the royal dragons…but with the city in such turmoil, it was far from certain that the riders had won through. Even if they had, what loyal gold cloaks remained were too few to have any hope of success. “Her Grace had as well commanded them to halt the Blackwater in its flow,” says Mushroom. When Prince Joffrey pleaded with his mother to let him ride forth with their own knights and those from White Harbor, the queen refused. “If they take that hill, this one will be next,” she said. “We will need every sword here to defend the castle.

Not to mention she was sure that the dragons themselves were capable of killing a bunch of peasants.

“They will kill the dragons,” Prince Joffrey said, anguished. “Or the dragons will kill them,” his mother said, unmoved. “Let them burn. The realm will not long miss them.

Another question is why the dragons became "weak". Did the maesters poison them?

Who do you think killed all the dragons the last time around Gallant dragonslayers armed with swords? The world the Citadel is building has no place in it for sorcery or prophecy or glass candles, much less for dragons. Ask yourself why Aemon Targaryen was allowed to waste his life upon the Wall, when by rights he should have been raised to archmaester. His blood was why. He could not be trusted. No more than I can.

[harrison-abbott]

after you

kept reading books

you got addicted

to the language

and the different

wynds and ways

within which

language works.

but,

the addiction

was a good one,

not a bad one.

[nirikeehan]

hiiiiiiii I'm READY for blackwall/thalia to make me feel things, how about kingdom come au-full "An open secret" from the evocative prompt list? <3

Hi Rowan!! I dithered a lot on whether what I was writing was actually answering the prompt, but I think I got there in the end. I will probably add this to the next chapter of Kingdom Come. Enjoy!

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1065

---

He kisses her on the temple and eases her out the door. He would take the day off, but he’s expected at company headquarters; there’s always one minor crisis or another the subordinates aren’t equipped to handle. Thom urges her to explore Markham, get a feel for the place proper. In a few days he’ll have the time to show her around himself. 

Thalia stands on the front stoop, belly full of the breakfast he made her, feeling untethered. The rain has evaporated, replaced by brilliant azure sky and the crisp warmth of early autumn. The cobblestones and stucco walls practically glow in the sun. Exposed, her face warms like a blush. She starts down the street, boots clicking underfoot.

She admits roaming the city for the day is a good idea. She needs to put space between them, lest his magnetism cloud her thinking. She still feels off-kilter from the rapid turn of events, wonders what exactly she agreed to in the bath this morning. Can she really stay here, as his — what’s the term? Mistress? Mortification seizes her. Paramour? Barely better. Lover? 

She cringes, narrowly sidestepping a noble in grey velvet who heads toward a golden-domed, marble columned building — the magistrate court. She heard the bells ringing at breakfast, signifying the start of autumn session. Thom told her, full of pride, how close his townhouse is to the beating heart of Markham’s legislature. 

The nobleman gives her a dirty look, and Thalia hides behind her hair, a thing one can do when it’s short and loose. He doesn’t recognize her, though there are plenty who might. She’s not the Inquisitor anymore, but her movements are still commented upon in the broadsheets; Leliana and Josephine both send her snippets from Orlais and Antiva when the gossip is especially salacious and outrageously wrong. They stopped when Cullen died, for which she is grateful. She has no desire to know what the rabble thought of that. Or what they’ll think, when they find out she’s sought out, for comfort, the war criminal she helped slip the noose. 

No one has to know, she reminds herself. Thom’s voice, in her head, assuring her.

Markham is a city of stone and plaster, of buildings built on top of streets and streets on top of buildings. Unlike Ostwick, which stands upon the sea and teems with gardens and canals, the Markham flora is far more deliberate. She spots a tree planted here on a walkway, another there, encircled by fences and dropping their scarlet leaves in lazy intervals. The wynds twist, turn, grow narrow and widen again on a whim. Thalia recalls the street that took her to the inn; the boulevard runs into the university, which was a place Thom suggested she visit while sopping up egg yolk with a piece of bread. His other hand strayed to hers, his thumb massaging a pale knuckle. It’s got a spectacular library, he said, almost sly. He knows books hook her like a fish.

 She recalls the book he was reading in bed last night, before they made love. In her haste she forgot to see what it was, and when she woke in his bed with reams of sunlight across her bare back, it had vanished. She has no idea what he might like to read. It troubles her. How can he seem so mysterious to her still, after all these years?

She crosses the street, keeps walking past the university entrance. Some things she can resist. 

---

Thom strolls into company headquarters — a stout fortress built into Markham’s outer walls, once a part of the city watch before it fell into disrepair and he bought the place cheap. He hears the lieutenants drilling recruits in the courtyard, the reassuring sound of shuffling feet and the clash of practice swords. This place is his pride and glory, the new life that he’s built upon the ashes of the old, and surveying it in the morning sun, he feels a swell of lightness deep in his chest. 

His office stands in the corner of the second floor. He breezes through reception, greets the boy on duty, steps into the courtyard to observe those training. After offering words of encouragement, he heads down the corridor to the main stairway. Payne stands by the base of the stairs. He is a nervous young man of some thirty-five years, skinny where Thom is broad, with hair the color and texture of a weasel. When Thom found him, Payne was serving a sentence for poaching, not because he’d been caught, but because his guilt had been so great he’d turned himself in. He’s a good second in command — not too ambitious, eager to please. 

Payne stares at him. “Are you all right, ser?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“It’s just— you were whistling, ser.” 

He snorts. “Didn’t think I was capable?” 

“Er, no, it’s not that. You just— seem in good spirits, is all.” Payne breaks into a sweat, as if accusing him of lightening the till. “More so than usual, I mean.” 

Thom blinks, lets out a hearty laugh. “Think it will damage my frightful reputation?” He’s known as the man in black to the company, possessing the gravitas of someone in perpetual mourning. He claps Payne on the shoulder and ascends the stairs before his startled subordinate can respond. 

He enters his office, flanked by his own amusement. He’s sitting at his desk, sorting a mountain of correspondence, when Sera breezes in. Her nose is scrunched as if she’s caught whiff of some rubbish. “All right, spew.” 

“I beg your pardon.” He does not lift his eyes from the parchment in front of him. A far flung prince would like to hire the company to protect him on his pleasure barge in the Waking Sea for a month. He tosses it in the discard pile.

“Everyone’s talking about it.” Sera paces back and forth, agitated. 

“About what?”

“You!” She points a disgusted finger at him. “They’re saying that you’re… happy.” 

Thom sighs. “Sera. It’s a beautiful day. Our coffers are full, my men are flourishing. Why wouldn’t I be happy?” 

Sera stares him in the face. She holds his gaze and refuses to blink. “You fucked her already, didn’t you?” 

The facial hair can only hide so much. A mischievous smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Sera’s eyes widen. 

“Beardyyyyyy,” she wails. 

[subbyfoxelf]

wynd (2020) #1-5

aaaaaaa i did it, i finally read the book that's been on the top of my to-read pile for literal years but i've been too scared to actually start reading because i'm weird & care too much about everything & if i didn't like it as much as i thought i was going to i would literally die (figuratively). aaaaaaaaaaaa

(spoilers hereafter)

my heart absolutely aches for wynd when he pleads that he just wants to be "normal." i think a big part of growing up is discovering that there's no such thing as "normal," and that that's okay, and once we realize that we can discover who WE want to be, and start working towards that.

i know not everyone gets even to this point, and i know the process of getting there can be painful. it's a kind of pain i haven't thought about in a long time, a pain that i moved past long ago… but it's a pain that's still very recognizable to me, very easy to relate to. and it's one that's conveyed quite well here.

seeing that pendulum swing the other way so dramatically, seeing wynd just absolutely SOAR (literally & figuratively) to save his friends... it was SO fucking good, you guys. i literally SHRIEKGASPED with surprise & joy when he swooped in with wings to save thorn.

the pacing is perfect. the art is amazing. the panels are big & clean, without a single one wasted. there is just something so incredibly satisfying about seeing so many people with such high levels of skill come together to make something this beautiful.

i am going to bed, and then i am starting book 2 LITERALLY TOMORROW MORNING.

[matrixrry]

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the inbox of the last ten people who reblogged something from you, get to know your mutuals and your followers!

Daisy your list was so lovely I got overwhelmed 😶‍🌫️ but I finally have time to give this some thought (definitely not time I'm meant to spend working) so here goes:

1. Chill evenings at home doing crafts and watching old TV with my partner and our cat (and sometimes other friends too). After a long time feeling artless, I've finally found some crafts that I enjoy, even that I might say I'm good at! I hold the calm work of creating in community very dear.

2. Walks. I don't have time for walks as often as I'd like these days, but I absolutely love wandering off with no destination in mind, turning down back wynds and meandering along little paths, listening to an audiobook or talking with a friend. Genuinely not to be all Thoreau about it (I hate that essay) but walking makes me feel more in touch with place, with self, with sky.

3. The Try Guys. It's like I've imprinted on them as my chosen comfort noises. Their content makes me happy all the time, but I find it especially valuable when I'm stressed or unsettled and need to focus on something completely separate from my life.

4. Gigs by musicians I really love. Live music I don't already know can be fun, and definitely a good way to get excited about new-to-me artists! But the feeling I get when I know every song and get to scream and jump and cry is unbeatable.

5. Bookstores. Possibly because I've just come out of one. I love discovering new books, noticing books I've read, finding books I've edited, considering how books have been chosen for display, observing trends in book covers ... everything other than the business and self-help sections.

[scotianostra]

On  Wednesday 28th January 1829, the notorious William Burke was hanged in Edinburgh.

He and his accomplice William Hare, who escaped the death penalty by turning King’s ­Evidence against Burke, were caught murdering people in the city and selling the cadavers to ­anatomist Robert Knox.

The hanging took place in Edinburgh at Libberton’s Wynd, this street ran from High Street/Lawnmarket down to Cowgate, roughly where the East pavement of George IV Bridge is now.

Below is the story The Scotsman ran about the execution

Pursuant to sentence passed in the High Court of Justiciary, Burke this morning suffered the last sentence of the law, at the common place of execution, head of Libberton’s Wynd.

From the hour in which he heard that his associate Hare was to be admitted an evidence against him, he abandoned all hopes of acquittal, and resigned himself to his awful fate. When consigned to the silence and solitude of his cell, he eagerly availed himself of the consolations of religion and sedulously ­prepared for the awful change he was soon to undergo. Sincerely anxious to hear of the premises of pardon and acceptance which the gospel holds out to the contrite and repentant sinner, on one occasion when a Catholic Priest and the Rev. Mr Marshall arrived at once at the jail, he exclaimed “admit them both”.

In a short time, however, he ­dispensed with the visits of Mr ­Marshall, and resolved to die ­professing the faith of his ­forefathers. Thought he talked ­freely over his murders at all time, he spent much of his time in reading such books as were left by his ­spiritual instructors, and in deep and serious meditation.

Heavily manacled as he was, and confined to the murderer’s diet – bread and water – he uniformly manifested an astonishing ­calmness and contentment. One gentleman, by whom he was visited, remarked that his cell was very cold, “Yes, yes,” he promptly replied, “but since matters have come to this, I must just bear it all.”

Though dreadfully afflicted by an excruciating disease and tormented by the approach of an ignominious death, he acted with deliberation; and talked with perfect coherence.

Shortly after eight o’clock, the procession set out for the place of execution. Bailies Crichton and Small, with a party of town officers, first ascended the scaffold and they were followed by Burke, supported by two Catholic Clergymen. He was dressed in decent black clothes, and was perfectly firm and ­composed. The moment he appeared the crowd set up an appalling shout, which continued for several ­minutes. The murderer and the Catholic clergymen knelt down and spent a few minutes in ­devotion. During the time a deep silence ­prevailed among the assemblage, but the devotions were ­succeeded by vehement cheering from every quarter, mingled with groans and hisses. When the cheers had subsided, the wretched man was assailed with every epithet of contempt and abhorrence.

As soon as the executioner ­proceeded to do his duty, the cries of “Burke him, Burke him, give him no rope,” and many others of a similar complexion, were vociferated in voices loud with indignation. Burke in the meantime, stood ­perfectly unmoved, and gazed around till the cap was drawn over his face, and shut the world forever from his view.

The executioner having completed his preparations and placed the signal in Burke’s hand, the magistrates ministers, and attendants left the scaffold. The crowd again set up another long and loud cheer, which was followed by cries for “Hare, Hare, where is Hare.” Burke lifted his hands and ejaculated a prayer of a few sentences then dropped the napkin and momently the drop fell.

The struggle was neither long nor apparently severe, but at every ­convulsive motion, a loud huzza arose from the multitude, which was several times repeated after the last agonies of humanity were past.

[robinreadscomics]

wynd (2020) #6-10

i would like to live in the parallel universe where this is the james tynion iv title that no one will shut up about instead of something is killing the children, please. thank you.

(i really do need to get around to something is killing the children, though. i don't tend to read a lot of horror comics, but i think i trust tynion as much as any writer alive at this point, so.)

was book 1 tighter? yes. was there a bit more catharsis in its finale? also yes. but book 2 is also bigger & more ambitious. and it introduces some great new characters whose perspectives really add a lot.

i love this comic. i'm so glad i'm finally reading it.

[wpmorse]

He rode through the streets of the city,

down from his hill on high,

O'er the wynds and the steps and the cobbles,

he rode to a woman's sigh.

For she was his secret treasure,

she was his shame and his bliss.

And a chain and a keep are nothing,

compared to a woman's kiss.

Tyrion IV -PG 430

Tyrion attempts to buy off Symon Silvertongue, but Symon wants more. He presents the song he will perform if Tyrion does not cooperate, Hands of Gold.

I am very fond of this song. It's easy to get it stuck in one's head as shown by Tyrion humming it multiple times throughout the rest of the book, despite having only heard it once. My biggest disappointment with the third season of Game of Thrones was its absence. They didn't even bother with the subplot.

This was a shame. I had hoped to see the show use it as a leitmotif, the way they used The Rains of Castamir in the second season, starting as something people are heard humming in the background to eventually growing to operatic levels when Tyrion kills Shae.

Ed Sheeran's version in the last season was nice but it just wasn't the same.

[slaughter-books]

Day 25: JOMPBPC: Borrowed

I don't have anything that fits this prompt, so I took a photo of this beautiful graphic novel series! 💚💞🩵

[scullyverse]

tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better 💖 (tagged by @freckleslikestars - thank you! 🥰)

✨ 3 ships: MSR (pretty self explanatory there I think hahaha) Stella/Scully (I know this is a fictional ship but I still love them so much 💕) and as it’s recently in my head, I really loved the relationship between Tharon and Roswynd from the book series Of Wulf and Wynd 🥰

✨ first ever ship: I think it would have had to have been Willow and Tara in Buffy The Vampire Slayer or Cole and Phoebe from Charmed — as that was the era of TV I watched when I was just beginning to get ships 😂

✨ last song: Freed From Desire - Gala

✨ last movie: Scream 2

✨ currently reading: I’m currently doing a re read of Lord Of The Rings — and I’m about half way through book one

✨ currently watching: like actually currently watching right this moment — The Hobart International tennis tournament. But I’m also doing a rewatch of The Fall and My Hero Academia

✨ currently consuming: some of these really amazing peach ring candies I bought at a candy store yesterday, with some musk stick candy as well 🥰

✨ currently craving: peach bubble tea with lychee jelly and pork ramen…like I am pretty much always 😂

I’m not sure who has already been tagged, but here you go 💕

Tagging: @useles-bian @panthersmeow @barbarashershey @danakathrine @danascully77 @lesbianreinaa @ee-ombra-ombra

And anyone else who wants to play!

[adelinecham]

Is one of the top-tier Quang Ninh resorts with many international-standard amenities and services. Enjoy your time at the Van Don tourism area Wyndham Garden Sonasea Van Don with the top 3 Sonasea Summer Package vacation packages this summer!

[dominicashen]

Book Review: Wynd Book One by James Tynion IV and Michael Dialynas.

When you’re young, and you know you’re “different,” all you ever really want is to feel like you belong. To be like the other kids, to be able to do the things they do, and feel what they feel. But life doesn’t always work out that way. This month I’m reviewing Wynd Book One: Flight of the Prince by James Tynion IV and Michael Dialynas.

Our main character is also the titular hero, Wynd, a young boy living in Pipetown with his adoptive family made of Miss Molly and her daughter Oakley. He spends his days working in Miss Molly’s tavern, helping get food to customers - though always unseen. And when he isn’t working, he's spying on the son of the royal garden, a beefy, muscular young man named Thorn who regularly jogs shirtless through town. Unknown to him, he has become the object of Wynd’s affections...

My full review: