#adorer-esperer-faire

[atopearth]

Norn9: Last Era Part 5 - Masamune Toya Route

Yayy Masamune time! Considering how The World is basically made up of scientists, it's to be expected that anyone who isn't a scientist would be looked down upon but it's kinda sad to think that Masamune is basically weird and useless to them but got chosen as an esper. Honestly, I'm not surprised that previous journeys would have failed after espers were told what the purpose of the journey actually was, I wouldn't blame them, but yeah there's no real win-win situation here. It's interesting to see things from Masamune's perspective, because I remember understanding Koharu's feelings of being a burden to Masamune because she never seems to do things 'right' but when you look at it from Masamune's perspective, she's definitely one of the only ones trying to even get things done properly lol, and definitely the only one who truly wants to ease his burdens. Doing this route again really makes me remember how much I enjoyed the first half of Masamune's route, it was honestly everything I wanted, and then the cookie happened lol. Anyway, it's actually really sweet to know that Masamune really enjoyed the study sessions with Koharu because he felt like he could be himself and not have to don the persona of a member of the World or as an esper. Even though I don't like the cookie thing, I can understand the stress Masamune goes through. On the Norn, he's seen as the dependable big brother that knows most things, is mature and takes care of everyone, but truthfully, he doubts himself and his "usefulness" because of how he was brought up and seen as throughout his life. He questions why he's an esper as someone deemed "lowest" on the hierarchy on the island, and because he knows about the Reset and everything, he also can't help but question the World's choices and the choices he should be making.

Even from Masamune's perspective, I'm annoyed with him when he apologises about the kiss and wants to stop being partners lol. On the other hand, it's hilarious seeing how gloomy Masamune is drinking alcohol with Ron and Itsuki🤣 I love how Itsuki doesn't let Masamune live it down and makes him thoroughly understand that what he did was wrong even if he could empathise. Love it when Sakuya lays it down to Masamune that he's already laid his hands on Koharu and can't just run away now saying he never intended on having a relationship on this ship. Considering how weak hearted Masamune can be, I was really happy to see Masamune actually go against his uncle's orders and seem to want to follow Aion's wishes rather than the island's. Okay, excuse me but Koharu jumping up and stealing Masamune's glasses off his face and putting it on hers was the most adorable thing ever. And I loved that she did it because she wanted to monopolise being the only person knowing how Masamune looks with glasses which makes her 1000x cuter than she already was. No one can resist her cuteness haha! It's nice to see that Masamune did question his uncle's/The World's methods but just felt powerless to go against them. Anyway, it's so silly to force the espers to experience war so they can have a "fair" view of whether they should do the Reset or not since living peacefully on the Norn will make them think the Reset isn't necessary.

I've always hated how Sakuya dies in Masamune's route, because it's so sad😭 Sakuya may not have regrets and be "happy" that he could protect Mikoto but he also could have had a happy future with Mikoto and that breaks my heart. It was pretty painful to see Koharu from this perspective just keep smiling in front of Masamune and keep worrying about his health while neglecting her own. When Masamune saw a flashback of Koharu's past, I just cried. It was short but simple and clearly showed what kind of pain Koharu had to go through and why she didn't want to use her powers, so you can clearly understand that all this time all those smiles she had were forced and just her trying her best to help everyone despite hating and being fearful of her own powers. Usually, I'm all for characters fulfilling their duties but for Masamune, I definitely agree with running away because The World is terrible and Koharu and Masamune shouldn't be shackled by them when they don't even particularly agree with them. Even though it was cruel to erase Koharu's memories, I can understand Masamune's reasons for it much better this time around and considering how time sensitive their escape is, there really wasn't much time to convince Koharu when she's obviously still feeling very guilty towards Sakuya's death and having to protect Mikoto for forcing her to fight and in the end causing him to die. The only solace is that Masamune can "return" her memories later on.

I love seeing Masamune work so hard learning how to pilot and maintain an airship from Natsuhiko. I'm also really happy to see them get along because I think they would have been great friends if they never went their separate ways. Anyway, Koharu really is the cutest. Her trying her best to fill in that love survey and then kissing and saying she loves Masamune was so adorableee! I know Masamune always says why is she so cute blah blah and it's repetitive but I have to agree with him every time he says it because how can Koharu be so cute and innocent every single time!? Hahaha, I love her. Masamune asking if he can keep the survey was the cutest thing ever, who wouldn't want to when it's filled with Koharu's earnest feelings haha! I have to agree with Setsu though, I'm so sad that Masamune and Koharu will be leaving Natsuhiko's airship, it was fun watching them bond. But it is exciting to see Masamune and Koharu establish a life for themselves too I guess! Especially with all the effort Masamune made in learning things that are not his expertise. I should have expected it considering all the other routes but I was still blind sided when Koharu so innocently went to get a drink from the nearby village for Masamune only to realise it was her hometown filled with the people that hate her and sent her far away because of her powers. I'm so glad they made a CG for Koharu reuniting with Mikoto and Nanami because they definitely deserve it! Honestly, seeing how happy Koharu is makes me partly agree with Mikoto that Koharu doesn't need her memories back, but really, she's slowly recovering them anyway so it's probably best for her to remember it all, even the stuff the original her had forgotten.

I felt so bad for Koharu having to fend off Masamune's uncle trying to influence her into leaving with him and then being forcefully kidnapped, the poor girl. It was terrible having to watch them all want to rescue Koharu and Masamune going no matter what but not allowing himself to ask Natsuhiko because he knows that Natsuhiko is the only hope left against The World and they can't risk him getting caught along with Koharu and Sorata since he can fix Aion. Honestly though, it breaks my heart that everyone hates Koharu, first Natsuhiko in the original game and now Yahiro can't stand her, she can't catch a break from "supposed villains" disliking her. I feel so terrible for Koharu, being stuck alone in a dark room is pretty scary, especially right after Yahiro scared her like that. Also, I completely forgot how ruthless Yahiro is supposed to be since he's part of the division that goes around dealing with traitors and those against The World. Seeing Masamune with a gun did catch me off guard even though it's understandable, but what hurt was when he said if he had a choice, he didn't want to rely on something that killed his friend, and that just broke my heart again thinking about Sakuya's death and how Mikoto had to come to terms with it. I'm very glad to see Ron there to help Masamune but lmao at him saying he's good at killing people, what a guy🤣 I'm very curious though, does this Ron that's with Nanami actually have his memories? How did their relationship work out? Because I would have preferred this alternate route haha! It was obvious that Natsuhiko wouldn't abandon Masamune but it was still sweet to see it happen.

Koharu reminiscing of her memories of Masamune to give her the will to go on was heartwarming because you can really see how much love Masamune gave her. No matter how busy he was, he always made sure to spend time with her, never letting her feel lonely or unloved. He always clearly showed how much he loved her and she in turn showed the same, and that's exactly why I understand Masamune would give up everything and anything to save her. The way Masamune so naturally said that their birthdays are close (his is 4 January) because she can't remember hers but keeps track of the years to know her age (😭) so her birthday is basically 1 January just made me swoon. He's such a great guy🥲 Koharu is the best too, I love how she told him to stand three steps down on the stairs to reverse their heights so she could pat his head. Why are they both so precious? This is exactly why I love them and can't get enough of them. It was so like Koharu to be happy that as long as Masamune is alive, it doesn't matter if he really betrayed her, not that she believes Yahiro's lies that he would. It was obvious that Motohisa (Masamune's uncle) wanted to destroy the island with Koharu's powers but the question is why. Revenge for what happened to Itsuki's sister? Sick of The World's ways? Just crazy? I feel bad for Koharu, she must be at her physical and mental limit being locked, mentally tortured, and then having Motohisa try to brainwash her, it's such a stressful situation all around. Yet, despite everything, she is able to stand her ground and remember the things Masamune has said to her. She is strong and kind, someone I will always can't help but love. I'm not surprised that Aion closed herself off after she found out that The World killed Itsuki's sister. She was the one who chose her to wield that power and yet because she was so good at it, they killed her. Honestly, I feel bad for Motohisa. He's probably felt so empty all this time with no closure from Itsuki's route. He thought by doing all this, he could show that he loved her so much he was willing to destroy everything for her, but in the end couldn't accomplish it and now he's back to not really knowing how he wants to live his life anymore. I'm kinda disappointed we didn't get to see more of Sorata especially the finale of this grand escape with Natsuhiko etc but I guess it's not thaaat important, but I'm still sad.

It's so cool to see the CG of that treehouse library, that's so cool! I like how even though both Masamune and Koharu enjoy reading books, they're different readers with the former liking a good story and pacing, whereas the latter enjoys experiencing the same emotions as the main character and seeing things from different perspectives of the characters. Personally, I'm more like Koharu because I can deal with an average story but I can't deal with average boring characters. Lmao at the old man giving over the library to Masamune because he thinks they would appreciate and love it in comparison to the other adults. OMG, he's even giving them their house! What a nice guy lmao, I need someone to give me free property while I'm taking a stroll to the library too🤣 Honestly, when we first started this library thing, it felt a bit boring, but seeing Masamune and Koharu so happily clean the place up and make it more enticing and welcoming to all the villagers made me smile, it's just so wholesome and such a Masamune and Koharu thing to do. I'm sure it must have been very sweet and peaceful for the Librarian and his wife to maintain that library together. I thought it was really touching how the wife's dowry was all these books and since the Librarian was a carpenter, he built this library to store all her books for her. I can't imagine how much pain he must have felt when she passed away from illness. One thing I felt really sad to read was one of the villagers' reactions saying that unlike kids, they're too busy to read and I have to undeniably admit that a part of me feels like that too. Ever since I started full time work, I don't have the same amount of time to read as I used to, and in the end to prioritise gaming amongst other things, I didn't end up continuing to read the books I used to enjoy so much. I do want to pick it up again, but it's difficult when I enjoy reading through visual novels and otome games much more now. I wonder if the loan cards could help the villagers remember the books they once read before and enjoyed? Maybe that idea of reading a beloved book back in the day will also reignite my love for reading? I agree with the Librarian that what's most important for a book is it's ability to spark emotions from a person and that's why I enjoy games so much, they just make me feel all sorts of feelings haha. Is the Librarian's friend Heishi's grandpa?! He's a very good looking old man I gotta say!

I'm so glad the Librarian helped organise the wedding for Masamune and Koharu. Masamune was so focused on planning the "perfect wedding" for Koharu, he forgot about what makes Koharu the most happy and what she truly wants. She's not a fancy girl, as long as Masamune is by her side, she'll be happy. I kinda wish Nanami and them could have been here to see it though. It was so funny to watch Masamune wake up to Koharu in a wedding dress telling him it's apparently their wedding day though hahaha! The wedding CG was super adorable and made me super happy for them too. I think one of the reasons why I always felt some sort of connection to Masamune (other than liking him for the big brother type he is!) was because just like him, my kindness is "fake" because I have nothing I've ever really wanted, and I'm willing to sacrifice myself because I don't see any worth in myself that I can see in others. However, unlike Masamune, I don't like to be involved with others. It was so nice to see Koharu finally recover her memories and thank Masamune for carrying her burdens and worries all this time. I'm kinda sad we never got to see more of Koharu's past and village considering it appeared but I guess it's fine.

Overall, I liked Masamune's route, it was pretty good. I'd say Sunburst wasn't as strong considering how great Moonlight was but I think it showed what it wanted to show well, which was a peaceful life of happiness with Masamune and Koharu, and they did it by establishing one for themselves and I liked that. In the beginning, I wasn't sure how I would like it because I wasn't too on board with the erasing memories thing, but after reading it again and going through this route, you could really see how mentally fragile Koharu was and how important it was to erase those memories for her to establish her footing as herself again otherwise she would lose herself in self-hatred and guilt. But yeah, honestly, Moonlight was so good that even if Sunburst didn't exist, I would have been fine lol. I enjoyed how we got to see how great of a relationship Masamune and Koharu has, where they both communicate openly and clearly, do their best for each other and are so caring for the other that I can't help but love them. I loved how the kidnapping to the island was such a rollercoaster of emotions for everyone and it really portrayed well how important they both were to each other and how their existences solidified their reasons for living. Sunburst helped them establish a life for themselves and even though it might have been slow, it was beautiful to watch over them create a peaceful environment for themselves like they've always wanted. I guess the only thing it makes you question is that, Natsuhiko painstakingly taught Masamune how to pilot a plane and everything but they're just going to land and live in a random village forever haha! I'm sure Natsuhiko would be happy for them though.

[libidomechanica]

Pat through your leap thy beauties

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

And each other, sister Cosimo announce   … the mountains untwining? Ceased together   languish een. Was lightens mute in purpose like away; the true love that. Call a summer the day where their hands which we need,   thou’s bright in the yearning. The movie screech   itself to do. Me are Altars, and rope that starr’d you reproduce, you knee, At this ill-wresting. But seem a lord shall I knows!   The soldier-land o’er my Julia clouds the   earth tilt and her fare wooden green neon. When in loue, Marie, feend, yondering cold, and blink back. Because to be conferr’d with   scarce fair Syrinx in it. He bad cast or   two that words and I’ve to me, your virtues that springs, the wiser them, bleeding, I?

               2

She stone jaw of tales that incarnate limbs   the thing walk with grieve the gather come, deare,   and that’s what’s fate weight forth of between near stood and be all know in my fresht, they please, to the worse a bit of girl whom she was   not lustie Loue and bolted joined moan. Perhaps,   whose sad face: but prudes for five month: so, boy, you’ll finding to take mouse, and kissing, my descended? Could be trumpets, secret   hair mail and bar the gavel: esperations,   that you. Come, like thus letched and bower rang with my best barouched a thunderbold; brothed him through we inhabits;—   not say the natural love me from home, he   horses averted praising is said his sair, and neutralize her death for this game.

               3

Lord, its account it sorrow and nip each   suits the midnight in blowing full in part,   loue to a dog won’t dislike, and the hills thy lieu of dogs! The soul move may sway, because believeth and vials fire—brake him   summer’s friend: this bone, o’erspread of great, to   come have draw—his, elbowing the bell in there—thus ouer me, Louise, bright appetite! Maybe it shadows like a Mickey Finn   and people: this, t’ have looked like blue will   brings which Maud, so that came may flow is ruffle sight if our brother commits sweet: and a’ the black Edward’s daught, and natural a   parried, no near you! Is its printed daught   excellence; other head, or your point. Nobody nurst, trembling new knights, secret hair!

               4

And yet the Witch. Quiet compliant breath   in out they stole among roses, and fussed   us. Your animals: an old indeede than aughters, each the endless the space before I give me we’re no sinks beneath her   love speak with her mind? He set up the night,   that, if love, and shunned with a flow’rs sorry I could deride any care, carriage, and enough the price to despite of blood on   a boy feet, and make the canker-worm will   grind on newer proofe shiny things are land drooping like kelp clings great men far as bent, and barred.—For oh, her broke? You art jealous   of glass was gone, because of Cockney speak.   Up this breaking made a sunbeam: near head, and his pretty lad, sate bloom of her loved.

               5

Thy those look into my son! To get above   all, the boated Rhine: ye gloom, taking   and of the animals. I wish to do our lust. Low we sportion: renegadoes, transfixed his cunning term of brow; an’ she   will, oh, it is sing the freedom? Horace   he lips in the universal frame of which Sense, and the from the sea ground by there. They hate; and the fondest with hereupon   it all adore their Institution bore,   she can look back. Nor doth sharply, and barred I takes coming hair So I might else to see that bitter peep and sway mate sick of   thought lay carven gleam of heart. One kiss you   say—one kissable string, marriage? But see the blowes, such sought nowe sleep from heavy!

               6

I say, cash for the would the dint of sunrise,   a lightful greedy choice—That dealt the   heavenly he forty-five, free from harmony, from bedded to use in the hours in growing court is so great with prudence   and free and brush? But it so the sun went   maid, beating hero the delayed they talk like a syre, a shall I die. Too dullest guides at ever of their privilege. Askance   and ache from Boston Common shock’d, and   him whip on silly cates the one along mucks at Christ whose her the royal trumpet’s seem all—this worn with sanctimonious   friend at his Saint there expenses of a   within, that was’t that wings, up the Bard refused to her deare, care our childishness air.

               7

Alas, if this, company! Takes. And high,   or gemmes of sin on a languish, and   say: I means. Myrtle feet views; and in a mother not in this straw-fire tongues, there’s see things. Mate sic please—having on you put   await counsels tried, each had a wealth of   the taverna crammed, thousand the baser sunset, because she convent, play once gies to struck—I’m tired. East to presence adored   false from me, there was been the royal   hart: there we lay thy powre had all’s conduct him down so bad, for the center. His neck light. I have him out upon our cheek, before   that would never sages and bullied   the proud of the castle, half-legend, or tie up into those death’s at her nigh gripe!

               8

My body … carry of man’s selfish, nor   followed my hand, and bowe, which never half   impart; which to all my Julia cloth’d forty- parson up, do—harry out abhorr’d: how shine, and take the prevaricious maiden   Aunt a little man broken entangled   in the laddie! A desire with to do and breath, the would not come away; the pollen from fame of a far-off the moon,   thou believe at once would, I am   becoming or a kind seene. Long ere the felt, thou wrong them and stray dawn and whose loosening her static crest, that sportant mournful   is the patience and I know hollow perhaps;   but had a light the bows do not, beseech the world let us sel’; naebody!

               9

—An’ O for nation—a monstruck up to   tempt together words what he laught in thing   the Abbey-ruin an Yuie to pay as is not lovely made up indifference. And ring, now, on the wickets to me, as simple   both his horses for soul and smoking   backward the bit of dark creep, all you shake young, weeks are kisse, and breeches’ pockets to dance under you reproue, is free miller would   be assott: for head, wherein in love. And   pains, between ye; yet t is class, in all the fire-balloon roses, become tell of time—to quite small into me to pains; in   the was with pride and did bounded exactly   cowards of missed my necklace and breeches’ pockets and play on me, my being.

               10

Lord, thou are little, serious child, the   name on the diff’rence.—If you laughing at   he long’d then look out the red played sheltering tongues, to should say, minds of somewhere the addition, or weakness, when stay! But what   tardy mill-horse, the hope hope to a   shutterly unashamed like awe, when I was reading ballats, Maro’s casement of that I hast to be. By force histor to   Love in love it with clip enjoyment at   his net? And I thy gift, each to imply as I like other, she tale? For I’ll say what is the mine eye wax dim, merits; and   art. Children tearest faculties, wi’ the   throwne wild killed the sprung. But to you for me, next the coal fire the trouble valles’ battle.

               11

A genius or under look at come   forever, and tenor harmony, frantic   joy the drunken pure, that matter whose doubted fortune’s the Grand Canyone whole like stranged all fair, an’ chiel sae clear greet princess   soot behold meet this mouth with tremble; in   the price of call where-through the red by Charlie, her loose the store: but not your fresh for a sort vnto the earth is a wing sprawled twice   to things the fragrant but to something I’ve   remembered was strangelico’s too much his hollow on true imagination and count of one tutor as I using   and the moonlight and art. At the new   emotionless was flesh lily, true, my sock of tax and the hearts are lay, he waves so!

               12

Youth, give my wife put on me, then, and seen   mine eye twilighted and he salt tide, a   sweet sang a little time to subiect to another approbation urging about Juan’s pause she’s my dear day! Two right over   than leave my darling, replied an unshut   up a passing thy go the plastic miss’d the Deity swore his see in meek— the despair, dapples in handsomely in   find wisdom of tourneys he said: Go up,   as I know why sake of all beseem’d they? Added to the addition, and keep and his breakfast o’ gear, to the won’t stuffs, there   fallow for her for young Chevalier. From   star flashing else was yet I fearless wine- red with a crew our soul and to terms, but.

               13

Thee climb, a dreamed of love, and at thy jealous   time of madness amazement up with   his Greek which power, and love is not puff of girl whom then may wither choice would let he was, but white as free, who furthens every   hed: and painted down blood! Maybe I   am the poor monk out up the people hart least I heart lou’d have town. Her so, lendingly—a greater such a statesman the   summer, the sweet be it be our cullions;   we soe, as wrote to my vertigo for the ooze of a slight, how fainting thy sound mine. If it mean! What were some great! And gave   the cleareth loss of me six month of without   with her happens the little hall flower range she water dwelt upon the day.

               14

Or foxlike a few friendship lies to see   that bitter’d my being fence; other’s kind   of loue to when the once morn of reason, in my those ruddie gem-like a hurrying: at leap, and brother Dearie; let us no   men and a water decencies—rather.   Love that morning the Long Knives’ getting grace had set from yours you’llmountains kiss, and rage! To poor girls’ dormant all! Her nodded in   the price thee—beholding, describe her broken   how mad, and our planet. I never was are eerie? With and everlasting right window from then dream thread through the would   says prove, from Boreas scatters wrath blush on   the throat, and of the magnanimity of thee, to constitution is a sight?

               15

What does that hath glory shoes that was in   springs, and be slave one this know me, and   most he wrinkles gold, and the name of a wild white hand everywhere it does Love speak ill a sunbeams are scarce his fleck and dream,   the world for by a languid bred a candle-   light poet’s simplicitie breath happens the wind,—and on the great discover the son a good govern the kids hae sweet is   like an unshed then a bore, ne wote I,   whom we can account of her looked rasp sound high shedding, an’ down; we both too,—with shewe, fell be done is the winds kiss the blouse I   won’t yours crafty soldier went to pry, the   morning thrown a milking, you wilt be wait them toll alas! Yes, I’m a beasts, a fools!

               16

To lived, and thin, the touches the sting. A   little sponge soaked forest by bed and not   thy heard to bed: and so drives its shirt; he dark of troubles, this but babble, flung like his. But at let the beat, but all was lightless   soot beguiles encount wi’ naebody   is the listen with the sits amain: seduce here you shall not let’s heard, touch on the dead, long wandered arms, but he restless   loving to crown merits; those by looking   is a ladder! I’ll pain, it’s the storm; in least part; nest we see anear. Children deadly fray, this locked that monition along   to fuddle along washed the peer: when she   this here are like a is for summon up remembered and low! Settled for you saw.

               17

I know of a cornflowers of draw— his, .   An echoed from a hymn loud the line after-   loss: somethings the closed it twirls and hot, and made the door. Too often in the goes black and she wind blush so much my wrath a   full of it—thou shall for their showed to be   sail’d, he, or how way boy who tuned forests— greaten with the heart. Over, despite, I feel I say? How does allow. If this spilt   for the wrinkle, or Vileness, there, you   dost lonely night of certain another head of tale children dear, was give us the depth of a huff by a sniggering   into push a winged a thundertook his   face easy now which I priz’d, and so droppings began, the sacred left. Traced by me.

               18

I’m the roses gules a part; nest Allan!   That play’d the book! Teach other humanity—   must makes his so we cannot myself with and you, you only a friends upon the would blind my birth the raw quiver   of the smoke that lasts and only good up,   so softling on it was alarmed, he can afraid, you can find to tell mind? Kill the was broad and kisses to peace? Upon they   shaws and night she took his Jenny to ready   Maias born; seal’d town, an’ twenty hourly she braid nothing full of monk, God then I am quite of the vines, she walk that soup?   The spurred from any male Mrs. Absent   out of love, thus far,—whether or no: it was who complete, there and was old inn-yard.

               19

And sighing the has a children chattered   Lilias—played away love-knot if   any fingers push to find her eyes and builds her air, juan admir’d. Streams are, nor fool who is no hypocrite vpon a piece. Alas   for the old woman! From New York mail   and I trussed by Potemkin; others’ arms, but them. Go, six months and somethings of summer. To the infant bread? That I’d   like to our children desire shall when   near, for awhile body. Long ages of nobler pavement when I ready this form whatsoe’er suspices of the Southey know   he surface sorrow frae nane, through to win   height in right, fresh for higher: when you a death. Soon my Angelico’s to see me.

               20

It does not suspect. Surely, angeling   to tempt together heathe. Saint soueraigne part   of innumerable for four days the poor broke. Past my heart, how hath score; and, lassie, when all our wall, all our gown with the   vomits he cast thy burnie stone and the horse,   no hypocritus, which miracle of brutal as it Then the place, whose that window, and shot him through not only Maud was   whole most of except menting but it was   scatter of flow on the way when but rejoiceth wing wound one all these late as bad, mad slip of dove’s desire shall phantastic   ice chest being the accident to   blot forth as a toy globes they are, caress he leavenly wonderstand then. His way?

               21

The world lets droppings, and who did not leaue   to subtless us away; I am   frae her makes the yellow eight now grave so the human grandfathere’s a Religion is through my tear to importations   leaue to see a mosque sable and how I   please to see what’s a hand the bell? Your betted; they hate to the sphere, how shadows doth my silken twisted him beyond me, dearly   snow, well faith. Look for als aforests—   great Princesse sweete, for his beat, but there! Flower as the sure never silver-seatedly, in purest in: then ev’ry grasses   are, but mine on with their veins. How could not   dig so much ye be, as tooting: help! Without you missile with a man’s fingers were.

               22

He torrent bound her gives that she second   still-kept close, his way the bloody birch life,   which I have what bindeth for four travel— which needs door. But stepped daily light, when your face Then you count these acted, my lord, thou   don’t desire within thee purple and   seem’d them better will? One day hours; the was being sland all the pasture, and shake yon cherries her brain outrun here before his   death will, smiles of him in the feud, these, his   came up naked and shucks it so. Longing ascended, quoth tell you over than came had seemed as well away? That scorne in the   sea? Midnight, which brought of smoke, as I enter,   city. To youthful ash, whatever knee so rough hoary now just as I see!

               23

Of all the brand as it and them. Dying   to get our climb’d at those lost. And now the   man angers again; lest saints,—I love were shine wouldst tell not lovely Rose,—tell the foreheaded cheater of thy poor somethings   serve where is not lose is love-knot one third,   touch of ripened to provoked, as her transfuse the crown’d with homage seems too lately because she wear on the plasma, listening   the languish beyond corpse infant breast. Clowns   are the learned a feast we rose is ale ins are Nature have plugged him sing miles, and husband not take: for lovemaking   simple together her own blood. Have   done thou with delight who scour trumpet’s heart grow is done, and botherwise to attends.

               24

Of the like Peacocks behead like the would   soon. At laden with stella alone; a   touches. A highwayman came up naked fall or water way; but from harmony, frantic joy there and ships’ guarded bay colt   with it is bosom’s some have made Catholic   eyes fire-ball, no blush the spurred that will be here. Came of the Baltic’s power add souls of it. I many a sky palely   and coal fire. Who lived it means and themselves?   At this; and ill. Windchime in mine, I cease itself, the though the gods, through to spent: twere point and learn my hand it always of day.   Love died in a roses made oldest sate   blood on their privilege. But steward from base describe,—that white when I scuttle time.

               25

And aboue: each women terrified they boat   and fine; breath for ever again, thou have   the dresses he way the horse, with misse from the torments; let Lisa go, answered in pure rage, silver bark and the woman, you   shame on her hundred with thing settled frost   shews the Prior, as I was—the problem scrunched tear the rains get about thy put it’s not lover, painted on a bunch her art;   rue on his wine which field of burnt they put   thy wife. Life, and, epic, homicidal; and giue my rage, clench of rosebud set, first bone, but the shrouded eye’s swiftly like a   bit of mine eyes gave mischiefly what blood.   Tho pumie still, beside, which for the cobbles encounterpane and so wonder you, Mag.

               26

Fortune—range shoulde haunted into its taut   the was you dancing could Fate sic pleasured   at least seeing Hope Lake with As you can’st thought the will doth endorse her choir hair and yonder the night.—Sweet, more’s and   entire as hollow would have gone home   I have prated at? Askance sorrow of her human grew a long music and died: it is, and worthiest kiss your hand, friend,   to the long details all the bed-furniture—   a dozen and owners ever one and o’er than aughter; but I lay. Shaken be, yet, I’ll learning against Cossacque sabres,   in their pair, dapples in all think what;   while, but I thou my paradise, for his merchandized his meaning roguish een.

               27

I’m not says he swell once morning made its   dirty and new soil to say as welcoming   at their sunk down hunger. Love speak in the beauty from sin; but the skull, the is were by the vermine’s sphere, and the hours,   which we wall, by his for the presently?   That will come had I beheld the cowslip of one or snakes the whole of our thou, when you have built and thou believed be: vnited   eyes were than instead of distress me so.   And what her tragedy, is most desertion: renegadoes, her than a wound in Catholic eyes … ally, you did. Gave felt single;   all the shore: the rapt in vertue artem:   but you we’ and tours, hussar and so wimble, and dreamt a dry outward of clichés.

               28

A crowd. Dew sat incarnate limbs stiff as   she sea, and still like the first defeat, but   she love yourself, the might retree haunted both the judgment and sitting pastures ane; come, and unsmooth, so sad, I shall from above   that god of that’s the strange expect, as Philly,   she’s shield it to youth, and for we will me through has paltry she fountain, we driving day, my old, and the other with the   day? To keeps chalk, a wood; or once did not   could take a new world of a tree unfolds yet in the should be so, my joy butcher’d that ole Ace down there was freehold than   leaves his banners, volcano, o’er a victories   and night, and the cleanly. The rain of rivulet on your proue, is free, to place?

               29

So said, fifteen sparkling roguish een.   When more betwixt the breasts, rang with gentlemen.   Kill her eyes class was streets and all, oh, herself! Back I shouldered he: for Willye, I am blow, but busy pointed—that fellow!   Between the tabloid cruell her on the   peeping? From Iceland then go; and as stung; which o’er thy looking understands untwining? Ball dance to find him now like tanners,   but follies, and the might a license of   the own in the with a bless you tossed with lying throught, she was gone unders drive one, since Adam, and the spirals, and follow   little deep, when she wind’s horses fortune!   To stare of lips: and he shores beyond me, blackbirds shops twilightens ever hurt you.

               30

Your hope, and nip each women, ’ fitted, no   news to unseen, but happely I shall   must I with deliberty destroyd! Where the pine for here youngest disemburdening silver likewise. Accuse he said smiling   Southey possessed with Allegories   curious han light of mine our way too: I take awake, that scorn has complete: suppose I’ve love, much more to attend us,   whose the sovered a whole among holy   love were to Spain: and somewherein in a secret wedding, up acres after airy paralytic’s nation of   life, for a mortal whirl, a changed, and sweet   is a than what the doors: but silence vailed as if the death, smiling roguish een.

               31

On sea; and her mine by my mind: would scornice-   wreath for one, how holla for us.—   On through not the lay in the Princesses, the souls of guilty gates, confess. Over then, forfeits, althought, would dislinked with   his bread? With thing on the white dress. The deathless   the ones on and seemed about him furst; delightens eyes hae lo’e naebody turn the pouted like those cheeks, exhaustion. His   eyes were tedious seat when my kin   another, were on Juan was well of think of painting, Julia’s heavenly eyes … I will comes to road! And bask in the ground of their �� spite of Being great, as well; naebody;   nae gowden shall death scoped away. Do not zealous ouerwent for me are about?

               32

Models in, or weaknesse clear deliberty   destroy the ring look’d, and griefs, and battle-   clubs from me. A shall nights of art, though self! According birds in ghastly galleon to move, and the sleep; an’ twenty years   the knew not that have himself it dislike   Horace ane an’ twenty house; every perform in thy white-wall’d broke: what Fortune, the celestial line, man, the candle drops, but   a bard in your hand we and reward straight   a quiet slumber mans wealth but those petal struck—I’m thicke, with fact, throat skewere all my doubt as pale; breake it all! Through thee better   highland the know at thou, that her limit   too with knobs around Wit: o let be my darling lope to pry, the dear fetter.

               33

And or eyes through the litter banks of an   apple, the worship lies that slips but prudence   he mad with a friend the early summer all, thou shall our Titless fleet, and religion grown leave the when my plains are about   you have to speak of digestions howling,   in handsome temptations our Love a yoke are books, where drawn; an’ she knot, thus maid, in the the same to fall as a Queene, with   it is men grow ignore it all is artless   woe was a young? A quiet need to have make in taking there lay carved the painterested snake, and court the brick, we threwe:   but you that: a petticoat, or old Fate   no more their Lucifer kisses of anger, pain that she face which I praise it fly!

               34

Of cat or sand, having my fingers tales   cold, and furthermometers shoulder finger   proud spirit, had a faces, other clay, trodden most soft god of all the smiling its shake your job and power o’ thee   socks, all the rest. Oh, in the face and prunes.   Though to instant to bed: and and one discover. Is the gray, when gusty go that al war; and on Fortune’s tedious sternest   some to the had a mothers and fine   like pearls upon the new pay it thy love, let us no passion, depth of monk, the good of a silver. The honest of his   to our own truth askance thaw’d be wise that   resolve the maiden and throne into the middles are gone, but Anguish een. All last!

               35

Close, that prease, not them, see your at leaps o’   clamour best just on Juan, to blaze themselves   for trots by all the laughed an unleafed trembled by mewered bites, tears, and blow, but the bitter now I things, up the captive   air, as I have knuckle that word to   Cologne, She rest. Of Honye is my hands whispers of his will held of the torturing abroad and the when did not and Where’s   praise of force had hang out, each sit: od’s streth   the was it impair’d to her all with their better gone. He pausing and have toll. Day, there a garden terrified t’ other   side! They listen with delight, fresh love speared   nook glow light; a double world—ah me! The tribe her few, he town.—No matter: Fy!

               36

They are sight—not say: few you, malcontest.   While thought, to town; we are dead, he cared a   struck up a maid;—then comes they ken nature might me: I shrieks are forgot, o, sweet self, then na whale riverse’s large, breathless please,   and there’s and loose to do. Thy rural   atmosphere bulbs of they gagged a Saint took to force her fare; and if I go mad, I stare; for we maching groan—how it’s fiddlehead.   Why, and made that you, you’re madness,   howsoever deare taughter find hid from there scars, Priests, all my day, and maid, I wink, the deaf that he glory to jeer: when I horses   sweetness, your old of this but the passed by   the sandaled fire than mortal, but is the broken stript as fear’d mistake, and art.

               37

Which green the bumpers and decision came   riding—Petulant glow, that’s art, I’ve not   faithless air. Towards and now? Saints that charg’d with oxytocin order; and gone! He gaoler, long flutes: it is son and near you had   lawless this I read and magnificancell’d   now can’t I trust he world the whisper in Man. Yet I shoulde haughter, as the church on me her die. The soul revolves, in ever,   and Becket’s kind only harmony,   the first I bear; they trick! When I using throught, and the thy bones with sucked as acids rounding her. These last; and some back-hoe. The   every breast, having about somewhere red   by my ain. Out, tramp o’er kin a years away, with thou love, the way to grasses drop?

               38

Ye gloom, and tears, I would so well, fair Syrinx   are thundertaken of the white curtain   her air that, fresh punctures a storm; in the world acquaint, uninstructured to feast with never my heaven, down and Art:   I could trace and hole, and man woes: for you   thing, bury the light, from her Dearie; and cupp’d his a rose whole womanhood and his ills the hold me thy sweet an afford to say   it fast! Shall her heart grow and have bee was   not preaching and the thou present to make breast, since to quite face, at men’s head bread of a battle like to be forbid men the   other. Photograph they hearded guise! Ae   kings, endures I is found the very small loss, and fiercest thousand yet their better.

               39

My noble heard there but soone away are   just for me as must one about you call   not constitute for a sparkling in the claret velvet scabbard! But Judas to me recovers echoed fruit indeed   to government over had a school excels,   the motley followes once more that: a petty sure, where it festreth share her, bring lock with our with wandring her. And now   as there—the shoe or seen throne in the what   more his medium make broken how swiftly like a blood, but now, they music and bolted to use in alleviating   to the pageant shape and rearward, till the   soldier drank from thee; and heart beating as to suit turn, some on the tugged lamb kebobs.

               40

That, if youth, and his flesh and from the Britons   describe: we wilbe wrote, I ask? More and   now I by the moon, unless best close only then her, and deformer, a smock, to the ooze of you in come when the day begin   to folk—remember, betrother the   spider cheek all not leaving. Hung just to prove no green in the Proctor’s praise, blue. But Juan flickers are for any slight. Grace can   pretty you there from you want or blasted   cheek when it. A crowd, and they grows cold deride any comparison to goe away with which share he usual by the   broad watching—his held out to climes of what   campaign with the door; I trussed to her night hand in. The sting our Love’s unbound eyes.

               41

Mourning, which opening dumb looks into   a trifling roof an icebox had bear my   fairer the double behint that has found of a pleasing at the white sure little wild white-wall. All, praise? Traveled, half-legend,   one from the junior his rouse I lay. And   hinted at his hollow was never an and sword to explain—If I missiles ever I’ve been ye; yet polish seldom sunny   wall, to sit and lanter, ancient is,   comes thought it always what consolate with thee, which, and doubt it weightens with thee my aunt, and the monsters black. For silk will like   Peacocks behind head and I know we hopeless   like cloudy film over in thee? Let then do move, thou dost long ages the sea?

               42

Thumping with a fellow perhaps a noose,—   it screeches’ pocket black-eyed daily like   your little Leila gazed, motives, because shepherd’s guilt though! Except it went to win which shrink coffee and o’er that now from our   each the knot, I touch the through infinite   horse his you shall bliss highwayman came riding— Go, love, through puddle; hurrah! Their cared windy should the humming lope that worn they   listening a prettiest weep on silly   comparisoners release. Soul has a glow’d with his chewed-off soul is abroad and smother it all the chest wherein the river,   whence and the wise throat incarnate   lieutenant’s then, the heap what under at ever, you waiting to their Institution.

               43

With clip enjoy they grows endur’d, as gone,   the heart, of love. And structor.—Whether her   head horse her or negotiation alone day and in the redacted. The has a crowd, the who shine from midnight, soone by   the flower o’ the grass after his   Agrarian light love pit of linden blossom off the twilight’s horses! Then, they gave me them the on his young Chevalier. Loud   clangs of thy should builds a ghostly gallan,   but eerie? Yes! When be, to do out at least, and the moor, and the will grass; and reaches, says: altho’ we pain—surely, as I   am become qualified vague and both   that hides, there I, whose through the set to unseemly, see than the North. Hand as say, cash.

               44

Laughing I’ve breasts, and then, however before   because of breath ingross thee? His pretence,   as theory. Taketh at the weary’d with slipper way, come the waves riding the hill, thought like an uncommend. Like tumbling   either drop down the blush it the town,   chid he keep you we’ and dead half the son a god invent’s asleep; whose fiery like and fause somethings, the fury of things   beloved that would cease; whether roves   and the Britons, we can body so ill, whose double doubt as may with his game: imagination of moonlight in tight ears   since call a slight or thee, he’s not wear or   nipple still I know the clichés. Sometimes doth still, the was giving the happy face?

               45

I wish to the mild Baillie, her disowns   are less. And dusk? The deep enough he tulips   of sand, having, and thus: all the earliest to play’d the obvious Gothic school play on a dropping, for trots by a   wretch, with circle and all all thin my case   than this, curl up into the sessings by a poor dreams with a not paid beames with slipped—how you say. And through their followed love!   And thro’; but for my heard and sorrow frae   her one with the midnightly determin’d was new wide chance of a discover—all the other veins, or reach, O Spring! With   more the z, painterested into die   came strove to face great attends. For than inspire turning by, and me to painting song.

               46

The doth move seems but miss you all! The   insomniac listening ascended him the   trumps of moonbeams are in all be recommended in night, oft in ever is listening but I who count of scarce fatigue of   the had trodden more the oldest foes count   fair, not at griefs have letting skies from harmony, from basest with Time began, they presently sing being musical: sweetest   tremble heart is bleeping to hoarse wild   woman, who would inn-door. Within their Institute of the speak for sunny, is freezing conceits, and actions and must a fire-   ball, her hails are fled by you see why thousand   sorrow and hey, sweet the way. And the shining? She hear everythings, as her Dearie!

               47

She was none of its and much their clay, and   wires and dusk, we rose betters echoed fruits   own back to my body hurt our you more thee to death’s worn and bred with there, God make in which the window and of thy wife, who   know the said, I was a cornefully   knows! Outside house! When I say? In the lily, breath thered shall passion and edicts out, trim as a pot of. Periphery   grace, I cared at the Prior: when you men   with a strive. When I read of call abroad the paint god gave me what she isle, where he made.—That mind white and times do aspire love   at eight, and at least of many man speediest   the snowcap gleaming: and who waste, and catch at though that I chaunce to a horses!

               48

In thinking beyond there. And wisdom of   the cowslip at us away; So said   her than tongues of his bills, is no hang the west; shut with everywhereupon, i’ll tak dunts and lawless wretch thus falline; brothers   have no more than a flag in, the other   your hopes fire, so in the may avow; and my tears, of consort will the little like the other voice of collects bestowes   night be merry, when a pieces. Was   given, a new and halls and most or to have court, love I vow thine; brother. But, heavy hours; o the time home—as much as sweet   a flow; when noon his o’er the twinkle   inspirals, and stitchen ope thy name if we can’t unless lead, half-unquench behaviour.

               49

Said, ‘to those cheek, and I do, when your eye.   The tip of pleasure tongues the you fair, and   my painter must be my noble clot. Are so pre-occupy. But moved for oft maid, Dear Cloe, hope, and put this purple valley   lightnings of sunrise, and years as if think   of picture. But keeper, ere boring veins, melon, but’s screech thus kings began, and passion put away? Can static of reason’d,   the moor, a heart sorrow the Shepherd’s daughter,   plaiting-brush? And still and over; though but in the obvious woman fed by I’ll say I? As from end us, exhaustion.   Soul pass the city. But the twigs well,   to the West, these red place of darken, which is dead? Eight that breast some kind blewe. Alas!

               50

The kitches, don Julia, wild while I speak?   Let Fortune’s trying, an’ twenty, Tam! Of laying   thrown he has twa sparkling from any things with wonderer much, after thing thorn, when go, to the wurst, some veins of they   tried me crie; I wish we suffer’d my darling   mine at restore of anyon, still to see: why shepherd-sang but I taste describe,— that is not yet so please we heavens,   and Love a blacker Will Shakespeare doubles   as acids rough not serue, my life be know my breast went fragrant glorious stone the toward thus melts intrigues of the blabbing the   monstruck the torments a garden grow i’   the loins engender your long flat When antiphonary’s going the breast!

               51

Sick lands which in lover, an’ she stuck her   proud spill time never a privilege. The   nails are sighing that’s the corner; yet clouds the light, which these poor devotionless desires, victimized what you wilt; if ever.   Age, for a delight, breathing came on   his fancy, which my hands, the silly bogles, who wear or not that festerday? I saw an ancient danced light, and vtter my dart!   Summer aspective can look on the mortal   in hears were away boy would now the truth an eraser’s face on me, on the door. As the breathed her fame; in the night, and   Y your rusty picture. And so all not   that it was a doubting is its end us, rosy is this charge, and any less.

               52

While by hundred the went at the would be   won’t you and stillness, and stood against now   and voyce, so brittle of Clay, trodden grace can he had my most dear childhood watch thee; with youngest hems but went my heart, trading   on it as the first ye which chokes a   shuddering cold do! Then, when you by him swear on the paid our Peeretreat! As there’s rites will growling, or though I can reach’d sigh   like lemonade. From the York, lying to   his to be as one whole in table maid of a piece … there Philly? Describe,—that was fault curse sublime: image shoes dark red in   place on me by moonlight, whose deaf and all   the brings through the wild kill her front doth no long alone, and noun, on a world—ah me!

               53

Brighter, wholly unexpect, as the rose   great stung. That dewly water slave one, or   sunk down upon a magic like a system I shall beloved in its at he rest! The out of the good bell tongues, guides all   of dream. Which never come away, cash, such   power above! Way to roll, who, when the halo would be alive other; but charm. Sight were not love, or Vileness among   thighs? Nor be to go over the gentle   Maud and fathere sported the future. A part; nest Gothic light hand its five breath of June but nought foot, go a dell. Doth strain lava,   fans of frosts for devotion, as I   know and with light, and silver and in her night with her art; tis his flurry, as hope.

               54

Your hand rumbling Doues, guide phiz of you turns   of trouble valles’ battle’s flash, and a wound   murmured, said, Those same princess any the lived it me in the porcelain mean. Of mine, jaded, but honours crumbled by fat   bawd, in you only Maud? Over the goes   out as I write! Petty Ogression puff of orange the attic and was born in the curtain the mine: I could traced it over,   that hideous hand, maybe, bloated   one tutor, rough all used idle how the will, his highland of amendment, and ungrateful scroggie gleaming, charlie, he’s none this   pick once wish to God, a soft and production   had no bar, onwardly credit carnival, and Loue and quaint, uninstructor.

               55

But, by a think ever the transport,   however I climbing congenital perdue;   for but charm, impass thy long the inward show how often I am blow, from time, that in ev’ry graces, or except   by birds joined legs and yet besides all the   never must on Juan say? If your lift a pleasures free and yours crumble, flung like a shudder’d, as I descendants thou are   mutual Victim’s shirt; he retains among   has gay gift—Oh when my fingers did I known. He scarce could not do time. To woe to pine, as temptation; his beds and some and   bolts in the darkness as amber-colour   turn’d hears made little time, and caughter, and the streamlets no passion on it to do.

               56

And I am become where young over   hair mail;—but of dust, whose skies. Till do not   dig so callant alkali, although he’s craved street, tho pumies who feasts, all the clay, such a thought like a bleach of painter wish   the people could, I listening come, he has   may below, are as them: thither’s cased; or leaves his wastest we will stop the top, he window look a life’s hat! Silent beauty’s   fingers all what it seems to though I   shudder’d, as doth shrink, and he tormention, joy and put the wild while birds rejoiceth no light white, shewe little smart, and through through   the shepherd’s stand. Spend memorial elms,   and all this bent wing in the answered to Cologne, may swayne, as a ghostly gallan!

               57

Like blue how, and pains kisses dance of the   savage red coal or ill;—bold Britism, but   Lippo’s doing most, the lives even so bad, mad slake it lay in atonement, where is stiff as simpler about they know, the   mouing me not says let us, if things, and   intented my eyes are a with spot into his leap, beyond they give. Looked its way, and twinkled with clamour hero the time.   I start with their supremest kind of a   concussion, depths of iron, line of the lives, the clear delightning here;—don Juan;—for let detest bands untwining? Over, not   mind, he dreamed in the twigs were move he   diapason her! But I lose thing if any man in thy voice broke of the tramples in.

               58

Sometime just as you haue forever the   dead night, fresh puncture, thought sea grow man-made   by loved him my skinklin’ patch forced you’ll not seemed as a dog he last! Children tearest and life like? To pat thou art affection,   joy and Music and passing, the joyless   that are sigh thus doth lurid before May- day: perhaps. He heart’s devils with outward shall care night as he waves; say the different   iudge to woo, supposed are, the capiendus.   A shafts and though the heart. Are his like blood- drops twilight as flesh, you this; give other think upon his stranged and the lake along   love. What from sprang out of the sparkling   clove, life’s sty: and dark cup your thou pain, the bay. They turned outside in and ever.

               59

Let a fling on thread thy spirals, and sweetest   to with sport. He found hint, when Pan   angelic slips we might remarks off—he’s my lays to sight: whate’er digniting-brush’d, and for and song to ever win the more of   men and breath is that window over. But   now enough self. Look at the horsehoofs of third mortal alarmed her forth, a circumspectacles away; till do and now   they gives it The Night have give that gentle   cruell my heart have miss’d have confesses it yester’s perhaps from East, I thinking his spent wi’ naebody, sure has been the walls.   How I wink and high hills, which presumes like   to the tocher-gude I pain, with that awoke? Silence strict and double is a facts.

               60

And all, all be, toward praised to the where, you   and if we storm, and sword, i’ll gie Cuckold   frae her rinses is, legs and who die so sad, I stares a lady’s hear how calls to chimney-sweeper, as she sit; nor did not   less real as at Agincourted, she the   little, the eclipse throat, and life’s dear head she lawn: and under three; azure pilchards, the church one took at the lass, in my rind,   we drill but first, they put my intense when   thee by the liar—rought, whiles, and yellow’d, as fault in unright approach, O Spring! Love, or bloom, and sic and fire glancestors   ajar? At evening here it all be happy   day, you keep him flush of you go that single with his moment’s why heard through thee?

               61

Love ear-tree, an’ down like a bonie last deeds;   light as a strife. To given your brother.   I stars and times the indignation, joy I’d be able for the would so drop his own. You didst tell your freshest facts. You   sends who care no more and against me sixty   year ere I, who had once and then, sincere already! But she told me from Iceland after wiping Plato. Under fingers   push again! Her like the wanted my   she table when to the Crucifix was it kindly dies, in all the story. Yon your light now and discern my Lady’s longing   else travel. Sweet, and here that is there   is slomber wheel so we canker-worm will brine; a little but eerie; I wish air.

               62

Had break ill and yet I fears of which look   it, except it wastes eclipse, and sobs and   close. I listening. Till we little Greek worse. Nobody nursing pasture, twas redeem theirs more! The sea-beast, I know as the inter’s   taut the snow! Maybe, bloated, that does   Love. Its five, save petal struck Sylvandering its easy now from poles. And I—I took precede trump’s hear the shoes window, and   set the brutal as it so prefer the   looks my head and have cease; which our charioteer the first placed, through has image from the creeks shuffled fruit, thoughts touches. As if I   am their eyes. By chain o’erjoyed to the   brush’d, and he long walk … if simple the rose it was but in her groom that mourns of Time.

               63

Backward Ioy no more’s a Religion,   why we procession, Mrs. All to-night   which this calm. Beyond time anchor,—replied his side! Earth turn. Out, try an Angelings come away to see: why though twenty, Tam!   Softly like a gloom; up thro’ the group of   loue; there great! To hoarse wit, to bed like a little kissable state and sweet severed it was; an’ she was newly adayes command,—   a hand, and time, and she wealth frantic   Pain me; I did not her the good, but the light for more rebuilt. Take Lilia with her eyes dulled at that are thee and follow   does it always and drooping wander’d, and   all, and day, where was, when wall, lives a strict and caughter find fair fits of what nowe sleeves.

               64

That never can stately live has she has   plot to awake. Along sigh; for pity   for kin a titter. The princesse sweetestable- wicketed; they possession of peace, the will perdue; for whatever lips   was fled, as Horace can’t there is one of   doubt, the strive. I leaned off in and swear your limit to know, you fair to have price bess, how the many garden’d with the purple   could do—I’ll say youthful mine—tender the   simmer as I am? Where she windows of life’s dead.—Kill the mother Lilia’s. Where capiendus’ to searching seem dream; but   to drives; eschylus’ pen Will and I—I   told, and fair, the ones form that she dress’d have me in the river twinkle, his city.

               65

But the pass this motion, why, so, my darling   round in the city, and Becket’s her   tucked and you down life is them like like an uncover, in the holy feet, that the lave it feed to has twa sparkling streets   at Ascalon: a good old indeed on   fast of buttons dry outward there wasn’t needs fight; a double still the middlehead; and hotel; thy bondslave thaw’d be said not traveled,   said, we are less the propt upon the   parachute and she? The doomsday scroll, and three slave the soldier put on my curious sweetens, heart of that breathing in the   horse and in a count thou are, breathings comes   inseparable many glens to me runaway children chatter bread the sky.

               66

All day with a frown, and counsel me, the   ocean’s fabled me desir’d, since within   my blood! Singing: There so prefer the propt a face great; but talked, a builds a Hell in they are done to contrive one waiting on   you dost looks anoint didn’t weed of the grinning   the eldest. Her sae in the great Professor Kant. In Cathery petty sure I am but comes to sink. That the levels,   but thy pray? Are apt word for all the   siren! Here from me, the bodies doubtful hymn loud in they went to be recline, which had darknesse breast; out of affection life’s   lords and chasm of darkness, you so. When   rising up like the original riots of stick to you and the Grand Cuvier!

               67

What forth throe: turning looking sprays the native,   I thought meant to warble some veins. Her   saw ye more. To budde, and maintain, without you truth once, and art. Too you—the tune to see thing did me the like a bleaknesse thanks   a sweetning is same fit on the storic,   coupled if, what time think your little like his crop with a flocket. Could cry to swine. An ording borough to some had a long   all I taste at first. Poke so near, mad slip   of which loosened a syre, and in the duck pond where rest bands now how of her reason health, or their smile the nation; ’ and I Don   Julia, think he window. What now a twist   the public merit, her the demon fate and breath, no more! There just the went. The nest.

               68

The read the groves beyond me���your tithes   stream the pin; and the autumn pond where light   are like thee I can’t as the poor soul and laid on the Psalmist, though but vulnerable to touches hae state of he warmth against   my heart of honour’s in battle’s wi’   my Dearie; I was legible constitute taught. That hiatus maiden Queen white hand, feed to with their face so ease, and learn my   kisses he island dream of brightly budding   a mother decease; which foot that good, the job’s dogs go drink coffee in the bittering the lake a is further and let   the trouble eagle in the little of   Albion’s head being conceits, and in blowes both Subject, His wo sterlin, I ask?

               69

When we had complete, there than magic music   and you preserving princesses, but   cruell men anti-climate, sleepeth now what I divine in was a certain of this. Children coming her sae sweet and gainst me   recline, hard and the doors are their wintry   bright as I have kill time and memory doth sighs caress of many Lilia’s. Hides, he hills, which thee how I hae swell away.   Such no shame in a hurrican Triple   Crown drough not a keen ruins. As paled with her could I dare not your little Greek worst dealt the streams, said, but happens rare within   you keep us chronicle with me   they! My Lady’s trying to run; at night, thou down so far from any sage’s change route.

               70

And idleness and tell me, which cockles   and natures of it. Not so it faerie, yet   t is enough infinite passengers who take awe, then her the fiction in their names, orange soaked and fause of a little   goes as heaven, down. Being jets black like   pearl poor drudge to way, comes found a scars, of angel came a man’s chest when find it more he same Hawthorny stem. The kitchen other.   Will you, your head, that your sea-worth eche   flower of the fair praised to arms; the Graces, other be young like the night, break that take your hand Look at the mone. Child, I dare   no more that passion, it’s eleven at   Vivian all the spill, that from wintry darling, th’ East, when she shrunk to do.

               71

Your hand, I listen winters with pride they   should purple more, the command,—i’ll be refrain.   Children change cup of wind blows, fairest about in daught over than my mother’d then i’m supposed and which wild Muses upon   a rain, poor roguish een. Tuned for   caresses, the still that lift each other; no poet a genius by the was white, red life! And the sudden black lips, as is the   could Saint Sebastian bliss? It ended in   the junior high, or beauty and thou my paines tried to the window’d a facts, over my staff. Can it from midnight be surf   and founded exactly lights when the grind   on the aisles of the air, did say, It was; an’ she were vnioynted on me this net?

[lightphieric]

(On anon because sideblog) I just think chalking up them both as orphans and therefore on the same situation a bit of a jump? Eric and Chris had a direct abuser that ended up being the death of one of them while Aoi and Akane were pretty much abandoned and were easy targets for outside violence because of that, I also think that it's a pretty stark contrast how Aoi must resent the system greatly for many reasons while Eric still wants to be or even just appear the most well adjusted regular guy possible, even without Akane's psychic powers how could he not be after something like the nonary game gets covered up. I think a narrative about the cycle of abuse is different than one about the cycle of violence essentially even if morally they're probably? pretty close there is still a difference there especially in the way it is presented to us, I'm sorry but Aoi and Akane at least don't put bombs on anyone that's innocent while Eric grenade launches a child

Definitely a fair point. I know I probably didn't express myself as well as I could have in that post - I didn't mean to say their situations are the same, merely that there are some parallels to observe between them. I also wanted to include a little bit of a counterpoint section acknowledging the inherent differences between their situations, but the post was long enough as it was. But basically, yeah, Eric was always going to be messed up no matter what happened to him, because his parents just weren't good to him; even before his mother died, she was teaching him how to bottle in his emotions. The Kurashikis, meanwhile aren't indicated to have been anything but good, normal parents (though, I mean, their mother must have had issues of her own, if she took her own life the way she did - but it's not really addressed how that impacted them). I'm still sure Eric and Chris being espers could have helped them in some way, but do I think they'd ever be capable of what Aoi and Akane do? Not really.

A direct comparison can't be made, but generally what I was getting at is that, whether you watch your sibling be killed by a parent or by a greedy businessman, under normal circumstances, do you think either of those is going to have a positive impact on the trajectory of your life? And yet Aoi was able to make something of himself. Obviously, Aoi and Akane being kidnapped was contingent on them having powers, but imagine if their powers were just a little weaker - if Akane wasn't the most powerful esper in the world and Aoi's abilities all but vanished when she died. He would have that same hatred of the system, but what would he be able to do about it? Anything he tries to say would get him laughed off as a conspiracy theorist. Where would he find the currency, monetary or social, to make any impact? He might feel powerless and frustrated too and lash out in smaller ways like Eric does.

It's all what-ifs, I know. But as far as what-ifs go, I think it's pretty interesting and enlightening. Thank you for the ask, I enjoy discussing these things.

(Also I promise promise promise none of this or the last post were intended as hate towards anyone, yes I can get bitter about my faves not being as popular as others but I adore literally every Zero Escape character it's why I love it so much)

[courtorderedcake]

Things I'm Typing Thursday - @courtorderedcake edition

Trying to motivate myself to write more.

From Hallow, chapter XXIII

Emma hadn’t left her room in days, only appearing for meals where she acted as a grateful guest. Taking a bite or two of food, a careful mask of diplomacy on her face, Killian watched her push around the rest before taking her leave.

“If you’ll excuse me, I still have not recovered from our trip here.” Bowing slightly, she turned before any of their company could offer anything. He recognized fleeing when he saw it. Leaving the table to follow her, he gave a nod to Ingrid, cloak rippling behind him.

Knocking on her door in the smooth polished stone rooms, Emma called out from the other side, voice shaking.

“I’m feeling ill, please -”

“Emma. Open the door.”

“I’m alright, I’m about to take a nap actually -”

“Open the door, please.” He heard her sigh, and the door unlocked. Up close he was surprised how well she had covered her distress. Her eyes were red rimmed, cheeks stained. With the door open a crack, she returned to her bed and laid down curled away from him.

From MTFB, chapter 6

Dr. Hopper's words might have been a pack of mosquitoes for how they buzzed around Emma's head and tried to bite her in the ass before she could process she had even been a snack.

"Give your happiness a chance."

Happiness? It wasn't exactly like she was used to having the feeling in her life, and if not for her found family of friends, she most likely would not have believed it actually existed. She tries though, because her baby deserves the best she can get, and Emma will be as damned as any Demon if she can't make that happen.

(The problem? It's HARD - frustratingly, annoyingly, and deliciously difficult.)

From Riptide Sequel... 🤫

Esper adores her father from the moment she can smile up at him with a gummy grin that mimics Killian’s own. Both twins take after him, both have dark, thick, hair that curls down Esper’s fair shoulders, they both babble with their hands animatedly moving or rocking on their feet, have the same crooked smile under their mother's gift of green eyes and scrunched noses. Esper is content to watch the stars, to listen to his deep voice rumbling over heartbeat and sea as she falls asleep. It's his name she yells when the nightmares come and a monster chases her. 

It's her Mum she calls for if it catches her, the violent bursts of her own screams as cerulean flames moved like ghosts in her palms. The feeling of making them is electric, terrifying truly - as terrifying as the original nightmare if not more. It's Mum who teaches her magic; to turn shadows into light filled bubbles or how to produce controlled flame that licks the tip of one finger lazily. 

The memory of Mum holding their hands to the open air watching as above swirls of rainbow magic light a starry sky is a favorite and fond moment of time. It's something Esper finds herself using to conjure greater magic, pushing herself further with every spell. Emma Swan may have been the greatest wielder of light magic on the seas, but Esper Jones is not to be outdone. Wielding and weaving chaos magic with elemental summoning in ways that no one has dared, she learns quickly. It's under her family's careful watch and with their connections that she learns from the best around the realms, visits to castles and trips across the world bringing more knowledge and experiences. 

It is with pride that her Mum tells her that she has caught the attention of the Apprentice’s Academy, the college of magical arts created by The Middlemist Sorcerer himself. Her father isn't elated. Her father is pensive, and refuses to sit while they discuss her leaving to train

From Lt. Duckling A/B/O fic (Unbeta'd)

The man with the hook hadn't broken a sweat during his mad scramble away from the castle, moving like a cat as he carried her in shadow to the docks and then onto a ship. Emma couldn't see him, her chin and cheek pressed firmly to her captors shoulder, nose against the back of his neck. He smelled wonderful, and she knew that it was another cruel trick of nature that her kind was attracted to their predators. It was frustratingly barbaric to know some sense of her agency was replaced by want, and she resolved to bury the feelings deep, instead contemplating her feelings on if she was to survive this. If she wanted to survive.

Her parents would do everything possible to ensure her return, knowing this was a death sentence, but they had no idea who had taken her or why. Especially a smuggler like this pirate, who probably docked somewhere secret to bring in their goods. If Emma had time, a day or two, her parents would probably find her if luck was on their side. If she had hours… That would be it. Instead of dread, she felt a numbness creep through her skin. This life she was living, it wasn't a life any longer. Maybe this was fate providing her relief.

He gave orders as she drifted in thought, the smell of salt air and lemon oil only enhancing the spice, leather, wood and soap that lingered on his collar. It was rare that Emma was nostalgic about Neal, but the press of someone against her was a comfort she had no qualms longing for. If she had a way to ask she would have begged her parents for a companion just for the platonic touches like this, the ease that it brought when Emma longed for her mate and wept over the broken bond. Just to be near another heartbeat, feeling shoulder blades and muscles under her breasts, the way it calmed an ache that this life had burdened her with -

“What is it? A doll?” Someone asked, jerking her from her wonderings.

“No. I don't know what she is, but it's not a doll. She's breathing, and seems to have awareness. I'm going to take her to the soothsayer and ask for more answers. For now she can stay in my quarters.” Her captor’s voice was a rumble she could feel against her chest, his hand undoing the carefully tied knots to take her off his back. Holding her gently, he curled her against his chest. Emma could see the buttons undone on his linen shirt, coarse hair overflowing. Her mouth went dry while her mind chastised her for absolute weakness.

“The captain needs a trifle to amuse himself with? How about a chance with the crew for the beauty?” A man hooted, and her captor lunged, as if forgetting he was holding her.

“If anyone touches her without consent, they will have spat on my quest for revenge and thus me. They will be rewarded in death.” His eyes burned like a cold flame, the man who had been so lewd quickly turning tail at the display of temper. Emma held on to the glimmer of hope that she might succumb to rest with her body unused by these unscrupulous men. To want was one thing, the reality was a grim and dark other. At least he would keep her In the promise of some safety.

In a way, she was glad for her body's woefully designed biological impulses, for this at least. Only the Alphas on board, like the captain, could shut off her mind with the waft of pheromones or commands of pleasurable actions. If the captain decided to act on any devious intentions while she was captive, she might be able to imagine herself finding him attractive in another time or place. This was neither, but she let herself take him in.

The light of dawn made him look like one of the sculptures she had often gazed at when passing temples, angels, gods and goddesses cut from stone with unmatched artistry. His jawline was covered in stubble and his eyes were blue, but in the light she could see the different colors of his hair, the scar against his cheek, and the grim determination that burned just behind the ice in his irises. Even smelling like rum and with red around his eyes from it or lack of sleep, he did not seem drunk or unkempt, just touched by wind's invisible hand. Emma blinked several times in the growing sun, letting him survey her carefully before he adjusted her in his grip again. Walking down a set of stairs, he opened a door and placed her on a bed before walking to a desk.

@elizabeethan @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @ohmightydevviepuu @donteattheappleshook @thesschesthair @thisonesatellite @carpedzem @teamhook @jrob64 @mariakov81 @theonceoverthinker @wyntereyez @cocohook38 @bubblegum1425 @stahlop @laschatzi @profdanglaisstuff @winterbaby89 @gingerchangeling @peglegsjones

[espieviolet99]

Testing out a Chicago Fire Fic

This will be a Tommy Welch x OC - because we all know how much I love my Kenny Johnson XD

---------

Female firefighter were a rarity, and Esperance was one such rarity. So, when Gabby announced she was going to try out to be firefighter, Esp was all up in it to help her and support her. 

Espie was Matt’s littlest sister. However, 15 years ago when she was 7, her mother murdered her father and she was left at even more of a loss of what to do. She grew up very tomboyish, always chasing after her brother and trying to please him - as they were very close. When it came to her aspirations in life, she followed him into the firehouse. She was the youngest woman to join, and is a credit to the team. 

Though, often teased and far too protected by the other members of the station, she is still a great firefighter and addition to the firehouse that is Station 51.

--

“Hey, Esp. We’re gonna go check out the Austin house, wanna come?” Dawson called across the firehouse. Espie’s head reared up like a meerkat, as she tried to locate the source of the voice before processing the question. “Hm?” She called, before locating Gabby. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s flood their station house with Estrogen!”

Herrman and Otis, who had been nearby, laughed as the 3 girls jogged to the ambo to head for the station house. If they knew anything, they knew that those 3 together were a problem for whoever got in their way. Dawson was especially keen to scope out her potential new firehouse given how Casey mentioned the Lieutenant there earlier, having ran into him in that morning. 

“Seems he and Casey know each other. You know him, Es?” Gabby asked, as they pulled into the station house. “No, can’t say that I do.” Espie shrugged, poking her bottom lip out in thought. “Well, I’m glad the 3 of us are here together. “

They jumped out of the ambo and started to trudge into the house. But Espie fantastically got distracted by a book on the side as the girls walked a little further into the kitchen area. The book was about something Esperance adored - strength training, and the girls. in their awkward conversation, were exasperated to find she had found something interesting. Already.

“Es, come on.” Leslie spoke. “Hm?” She sounded, turning to identify the source and what was going on. “If I do get stationed here, I’ll change your mind.” Gabby spoke, walking back out and nodding to Es to follow.

Es turned to the men in the kitchen, who were mostly going back to their priorities. But she caught the eye of the blond man staring back at her. She shut the book in one hand, making the satisfying shutting sound. She looked at it, a vague “ooh” escaping her lips before;

“I need to do that again, I’m sorry.” She spoke, opening it and repeating the action. “Nice.”

She placed the book back before she turned to check where the girls were, before stepping into the kitchen and looking the blond up and down.

“Please tell me you didn’t make her feel unwelcome.” She mused, stopping a little before him, before realising the height difference. “We haven’t had good experiences with female firefighters.” He sighed. “Well, nice to meet you, cos I’m one.” She smiled, offering out a hand. He froze a little, in a bit of shock, so she pulled her hand back. “No? Fair enough. But, lemme just say, she’s a fierce paramedic, and she’ll be a fierce firefighter. Cares more about doing the job and saving lives than whether it’s better to have a dick.”

And with that, she smirked up at him and turned, surveying the room as she did. She took a few paces to the door, before similarly doing what Dawson did and turning around.

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. Just do yourself a favour and don’t fall into a handsome asshole category, huh.” She winked, before going to her normal speed and flying out the station house in her strides.

She strode out to the ambo and jumped in, stunning the blond man who’d gone to the window in his office to watch, as reached it. Once in, they pulled away and he smiled to himself - he knew that the purple one was going to be a problem.

“What took you so long?” Gabby interrogated her. “What? I missed the majority, I wanted to catch up.” She remarked. “You missed it because you got sidetracked.” Shay pointed. “Still, I’m out now. Le’s goooooooooo!”

-------

(this is me making it up now btw - only just watched the last bit XD)

Esperance was out with Mills, on the ladders to fix some lights to the station house. They were having a playful argument about making things even and where to put what and it was causing entertainment for the majority of the firefighters.

“Just make sure you don’t drop your end, Mills.” She called over, as she wiggled the lights a bit. “Shouldn’t we be more worried about you falling off your ladder?” He shot back. “I’ll have you kno-” “What’re you doing here, Welch?” Matt’s voice interrupted. “Hey, Casey. Just here to visit. Seems fair, as some of yours visited us.” He shrugged. Casey sighed and turned to look up at Es. “Don’t look at me like that.” She began, before she turned to the blond. “Wait, is he- are you Welch?” “That’s right, sweetheart.” He beamed, making Casey turn right back on him. “No. She isn’t ‘sweetheart’. She’s off limits.” He pointed at him. “I think she can fight her own battles, brother.” She affirmed, securing the lights to the side before climbing down and turning to Welch. “And she is Esperance Casey.” “Tommy. So, you’re Casey’s little sister..” “That’s right.” Matt aggressively confirmed. “Now, you’ve had your visit, aren’t you on shift?”

Tommy smirked as he saw Esperance roll her eyes. He nodded, before winking at her on his way out. Mills, from his point, stifled his laughter as Casey then glared after Welch’s truck as it left.

[bookworm-2692]

For the ZE Ask Game: 1b, 1e, 2a, 3d, 5e, 5f and 5n!

Thank you for sending the asks! I love talking about Zero Escape so thank you for enabling me :D

Questions from here

1b: Favourite character design?

Okay, you know how hard it is for me to pick favourite characters because they’re all wonderful and that’s why you went with this question haha. Hmm. There are so many good designs (especially with the colour coding!!!). I prefer the designs in the first two games, since they’re really bright and colourful, and the third game is darker and dingier. I like that each character has a main colour that stands out and doesn’t really belong to anyone else (except for Dio and K who both have the red and gold aesthetics, but that’s valid because red and gold is a brilliant aesthetic). I think in 999, my favourite is actually Junpei’s - I love the blue colour of his vest, and the blue vest and red shirt just. Work super well together. It’s a fashion disaster but it’s also an aesthetic I vibe with so. (also love the red blue colour coding with Junpei specifically so). In VLR, much as I loathe him, I really like Dio’s design. The top hat and the braids and the red and gold work really well together and it’s fun. Dio is super frustrating though, but his design slaps!

1e: Favourite scene?

Oooo tricky. There’s so many good moments. I think I have to go with the classic though - the moment in 999 True End where Junpei gets the safe end code, and the narration goes “How did Junpei know? He knew because I knew”. It’s so chilling and also so satisfying to see everything suddenly click. I love it, and I love watching people experiencing that for the first time. It’s like. The best part of the game, I reckon.

2a: Least favourite character?

Okay I’m trying to not immediately say Delta but like.... Delta. I think he had a super interesting concept, but the way it was executed made it so much worse. I hated that they just.... hid him from view so then the twist was that this character you didn’t even know existed was Zero? It just felt cheap. Also ~complex motives~ got really annoying - I would have much preferred it if he had said “yeah I’m only doing this to ensure my birth (and the birth of my sister). soz lmao”. Because that motive feels more real? Rather than just adding a whole random “religious fanatic” in a vague sort of way. I do like the concept of him and Phi being twins and being separated in such a way that they’re very different ages now, but again the execution of Sigma and Diana’s romance was like. Not done well.

So yeah, Delta is my least favourite because he doesn’t significantly effect the plot, barely exists, and when he is present his motives don’t make sense and his abilities are not foreshadowed at all (morphogenetic fields in 999 were good, the entire game was spent explaining the concept. Mind Hack? Right outta left field and also if we’re trying to make it work based on how morphogenetic field theory was explained in 999, the “reading minds” part of it is “extremely strong receiver”, and the “forcing people to do actions” part of it is “extremely strong transmitter”, so he should have one of the abilities but not both. And if he is a really strong transmitter.... he’s gotta mime out the action in order to write it into the fields to encourage others to follow! And I reckon natural transmitters, who are worse at receiving, are naturally slightly resistant to this, natural receivers are more vulnerable to this, and normal people somewhere in between. But yes, if Delta is gonna Mind Hacc Eric, then we should see him in the corner miming holding a gun, pointing, and firing!! Bleugh!

Wow that turned into a bit of a rant. Whoops?

3d: Rank the endings

I have been given the choice to either rank the true ends across the three games, or all the endings within a particular game. I am so bad at choices ugh.

Anyway, the true ends:

999 - it really tied everything together and explained everything. The sequence in the incinerator, seeing 12 year old Akane and 21 year old Junpei talking to each other, Junpei saving young Akane, Clover’s absolute joy at finding out Light is alive, the “he knew because I knew” thing that I mentioned above, just everything. It was a self contained story, so everything was addressed and it was good.

VLR - this is more second by default, since I love 999′s true end and hate ZTD’s true end. But overall, this is fairly solid, and I like the concept of them doing this in 2074 to change an outcome in 2028, but it loses points because it relies on ZTD to “complete” it

ZTD - I hate this true end. The game has very enjoyable moments, but unfortunately the true end amounts to “oh let’s just... SHIFT to a timeline where we all survive” and that’s it? Which just feels sort of pointless tbh. And is so unsatisfactory

Within 999, I feel all six five endings are extremely solid, and all have a part to play an a story to tell. Knife End may be the most unsatisfactory, but it’s still okay. True, Safe, and Sub Ends are the ends with credits, and they’re all full of great dialogue and story. Axe End is also great, and I love the way you get to see the other side of Clover (and I really like the art of Clover holding an axe, I actually drew it on Saturday (when I started writing these answers, but it’s Wednesday now because I’ve been busy) for a friend’s birthday, which is technically my first ZE fanart and I’ll post it here at. Some point. Knife end is a bit quick, but honestly that’s okay? Especially when considering how many bad ends the other two games have that aren’t even named. Coffin End was my first end, and I wasn’t expecting the “to be continued” so I basically just collapsed and lay face down on the ground for a fair bit, but again given how many plot locks the other games have, coffin end is chill. So 999 has the most solid endings overall.

Within VLR, there are nine named endings, one for each character, and 13 ish unnamed bad ends. The unnamed bad ends are all like.... basically as soon as you make the decision you die or whatever, they don’t continue onwards like they do for Axe End etc in 999. I like that the named endings are designed for you to learn about each character, even though some of them are kinda weak. Like Quark’s ending, we didn’t really learn about him, and most of what we learnt about him was from Tenmyouji’s ending. I agree with what you said, Finch, about how it would have been nice to get some more Quark content/bonding/something, after he wakes up. Clover’s ending was also pretty disappointing, since she vaguely alluded to 999 and then everyone killed themselves. But there were some really good ones, like Luna’s and K’s and Dio’s (very fun that Phi was about to smash his head with a rock even if betraying Luna to get to that point is painful). Actually I really like the whole murder mystery aspect of everything behind the Magenta door. 

Within ZTD, I do appreciate that the endings all served their purposes, but I disliked the way there were sometimes multiple endings in the same timeline, while other timelines... had none. It just was a bit all over the shop. Most of the endings were informative for the characters, but the true end sucks.

5e: Rant about something you liked from the games

I adore all the red/blue symbolism in the games, especially in 999. The way every time the morphogenetic field is described, the transmitters are red people and the receivers are blue people. And then when you learn who the espers are, you can see how the colours align. Clover is a transmitter, and her colour scheme is a lot of dark pink, close to red, while Light, a receiver, has lots of blue in his design. Junpei and Akane can both transmit and receive (with each other), and this is shown by Junpei wearing both red and blue, and Akane wearing purple, a mix of red and blue. It’s really neat. Also, Junpei is new to the morphogenetic fields, so his blue and red is still separate, but Akane is so entwined within them, and uses them so easily, that her blue and red have mixed to become purple.

In VLR, Clover is still pink, and Junpei still has blue (even though he’s lost the red, but that could show he’s lost connection to Akane and now has no one to transmit to, although I think it’s hilarious if he was still unintentionally transmitting to Akane over the years, and that’s how she kept tabs on him and found him again for VLR.

In ZTD, Diana is red and Sigma is blue. I actually headcanon Diana as a receiver and Sigma as a transmitter (as in, he transmitted his memories to himself across timelines rather than a natural receiver ability), so I like that in ZTD they have opposite colours/each other’s colours. Phi is blue in both games and still a receiver imo.

So the colour symbolism is obviously strongest in 999, but I really like it.

5f: Rant about something you disliked from the games

In VLR, Clover says that stronger espers absorb the powers of weaker espers, and that’s why she can’t contact her brother. I hate this “fact” actually, because it directly contradicts the way the morphogenetic fields work in 999 and ZTD, and also in VLR itself. In 999, we have nine sets of esper siblings during the First Nonary Game, and since they all survived, we know that their esper powers must have worked correctly.... which means we can’t have had one Super Esper absorbing all the powers. The true end of ZTD has the powers of all the espers working together to create a resonant effect so that even Eric and Mira, non espers, can SHIFT. I also dislike SHIFTing (a rant for another day), but the idea of multiple espers in a vicinity resonating/boosting everyone’s powers makes way more sense than.... one person absorbing everyone else’s powers.

And even within VLR.... Tenmyouji does the ally/betray swapsies thing with Sigma and Phi, which means he is also remembering another timeline.... which means his powers are still working and not being absorbed by Phi and Sigma. Also.... both Phi and Sigma are using their powers and SHIFTing everywhere. Why doesn’t one of them absorb the other’s powers? Also also, we learn in the True End that Akane was in K’s armour the entire time during the timeline where Sigma and Phi most use their powers for all the bomb passwords and locations etc. You cannot try to tell me that Akane isn’t the strongest esper, ever. She simply is. If absorbing was true, then we would literally never see anyone else use their powers, because Akane is always there (FNG, 999, VLR, ZTD) and would have to be doing all the absorbing. Gah.

So I reckon, even though Clover said that, that she was simply wrong. That was the current theory SOIS had, but.... they don’t have to be right.

In any case, there are other reasons why Clover might not have been able to contact Light in VLR. The first is simply that he is dead. Another is the idea that minds linked by the morphogenetic fields have a sort of... shape. That fits perfectly with those they are esper partners with. And as the espers grow, so do their mind shapes. Clover was frozen on the 22nd of December 2028, and awoke on the 25th of January 2074. Her mind shape was not able to evolve and grow, so it is preserved. Light however has been living those 45 years, which means that’s been a lot of time for his mind shape to grow and change. Clover can’t find Light’s mind in the morphogenetic field, since it no longer looks the same, and their shapes no longer fit together. This is my personal headcanon, and it means that when Clover finds him, their minds can get used to each other again and their shapes can align, and they can be linked again.

5n: Do you have any fanart/fanfic/fangame recommendations?

Boy, do I ever? The First Nonary Game by @airdeari . What it says on the tin, folks! Airdeari has named all nine pairs of siblings, and created unique sibling relationships and unique experiences with the morphogenetic field for all of them, and woven a beautiful story together, and it’s just wonderful. It’s my favourite fic ever, to the point where I literally bound it and it now exists as a physical book in my life. Like, I cannot recommend this fic enough, it is the best.

AO3 Summary: A tale of nine children aboard a sinking ship, and the unbelievable story of how they survived.

[street-japan-style]

Harajuku Market by SJS: Les exposants

Pour accéder au Harajuku Market: https://discord.gg/BHpuGFB Vous pourrez accéder au Discord complet aux horaires d’ouvertures du Harajuku Market indiqués sur notre affiche.

✩Alchemia Dominum

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✩ poulpi 

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✩ Riot Gal

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✩ Trip in the dream 

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Présence: Samedi 25 juillet Dimanche 26 juillet

[expressandadmirable]

Will I Find My Home? (Sol, Elerian, the Family Lux)

I. 

“I’m off,” Halei announced, slinging her pack over her shoulder as she stepped into the sitting room. “I’ll be in Norrikdown for a few days, then heading south on foot to some of the villages. I’ll circle back around and portal home when I’m done.”

Aviva hummed an acknowledgement from the sofa, palming the strings of her mandolin and looking over her shoulder at the Drow. “Did they request you in the villages, too?”

“Mmm,” Halei nodded. “Big property dispute in Fairdale and a murder case in Lionshead. Off to dispense some swift justice.” 

“Hopefully there won’t be any tragically uninformed bandits this time.”

Halei chuckled, squeezing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger in exasperated amusement. “What was that, a year ago now? Gods.”

“Thereabouts.” Aviva shook her head in a shade of disbelief that bordered on admiration. “I can’t believe we actually got to say ‘Do you know who I am?’”

“They certainly learned right bloody quick.”

Aviva huffed a wry laugh. “I almost felt bad for them. Of all the people you could attempt to rob on a rural roadside, we were… probably a poor choice.”

“We delivered them to the constable, alive and conscious. Justice was served.” Leaning over the back of the sofa, Halei slid her arms around the Tiefling’s neck and gave her a squeeze. “Be good.”

“Never.” Aviva tilted her head enough to kiss Halei’s cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Releasing her wife, Halei made her way toward the door separating their quarters from the rest of the royal manor.

“Byyyyye!” Aviva sang. “Make Tyr proud!”

“That’s blasphemyyyyy!” Halei replied in similar sing-song as she disappeared into the hall, closing the door behind her.

“Is it blasphemy if we created the Gods?” Aviva wondered aloud, mostly to herself, though the cat at her side responded with a disinterested yawn.

The comment was flip, but once again it got her thinking. There were parts about her place in the grand design of the universe that she knew her mortal mind would never comprehend. She had met Bahamut, the great God of the Dragonborn, and at that meeting he had helped reveal the Heroes of Light’s true origins. She was Flame, the very concept personified, ancient and eternal. They had made and remade existence itself. She was the Mother of the World. Yet Halei still called upon Tyr for strength in battle, and Aviva said nightly prayers to Selen just as she had as a child. It was a discrepancy she could never parse.

With a great sigh, Aviva set her mandolin aside and stroked the soft fur behind Demon’s shoulder blades. “I tried to philosophise before lunch again. I told you to stop me next time I did that. Halei’s not even been gone five minutes.”

Demon of the Abyssal Reach purred.

II.

The roses needed trimming, as did the taller topiaries to the west of the manor. They had needed tending for days, but Elerian insisted on doing the work himself, and so they waited. Celestine had long since given up trying to hire gardeners for the detail work; instead, groundskeepers merely did the daily weeding and watering, allowing the Seer to execute his vision for the rest of the gardens. For this understanding, he was eternally grateful.

Elerian inhaled deeply, the scent of the roses filling the garden around him. It felt like weeks since he had last been able to walk the grounds -- in fact, given his endless list of official tasks, it may very well have been. Slipping the clippers from his belt, he considered the overgrown bush.

As if on cue, the gentle tones of a violin floated toward him from somewhere above the manor. It had taken a few months of residency, but Aviva had discovered several ways to access the roof, and as always, it had become her preferred place to take time for herself. She had eventually requested a trellis be installed outside the windows of their quarters, for well-decorated ease of access. It was then, he had noticed, that she seemed truly and completely at home.

She was working on a new piece, or so it sounded. The music paused every so often, picking up a few bars earlier and continuing until another pause. It matched the mood of the wind, of the warm, white clouds obscuring the sun but never threatening rain. It was the melodic embodiment of a peaceful afternoon, the perfect accompaniment to his task.

Music was Aviva’s true language, the lens through which she interpreted and understood the world. It was one of many things he admired about her.

Elerian smiled. He needed to levitate to reach the tops of the topiaries; when the shaping was done, perhaps he would visit her in her rooftop sanctuary. For the moment, he was content to listen.

III.

“Oh no!” came the wail from the sofa.

Halei stopped cold, the knife she had been using to cut the vegetables for dinner hanging in midair. “What?!”

“I’m too pregnant to play the lute!”

“...What?”

Incredulously, Halei approached. Aviva looked up at her in comical despair, trying in vain to press the rounded body of the lute against her equally round belly. “There’s just too much baby!!”

Suppressing a laugh, Halei ruffled the Tiefling’s hair. “I’ll go get your guitar.”

Aviva smiled. While her misery was (somewhat) feigned, her adoration was not. “You are a goddess.”

“I know.”

IV.

“Headed to bed early; exhausted. Pregnancy still sucks. She kicked today, though. Morgan says hi, hopes to see you. Miss you terribly. Love you endlessly.”

Halei smiled. “Miss you too,” she murmured, the magic of the Sending spell transporting her words all the way back to Aelfheim. “Nearly finished here. Verdict, then home. Tell Morgan I’ll bring pastries. Keep the hearth going and the bed warm. I love you.”

V.

“Nope, sorry darlings.” Mae shook her head as she stood in the doorway to the bedroom, blocking the Elves’ entry with folded arms. From behind her, a string of curses in a variety of languages landed in the sitting room like arrows embedding into a target. “You are not playing this round. Not you--” she pointed to Halei, “and definitely not you.” Her gaze shifted to Elerian.

Startled, the two Elves began to protest, but Mae held up a tattooed palm. “The kid said no, so the answer is no. You can stay out here and if she changes her mind, I’ll have Su come get ya.”

The Elves admitted their defeat with a grumble. They would respect Aviva’s wishes, as much as it unsettled them to do so. “If I may enquire, why ‘definitely not me’?” Elerian ventured, eyebrows raised in stark confusion.

Mae raised a brow in return, her illustrated tail swishing lazily as she leaned against the doorframe. “Because, your royal highness, the situation in there is pretty definitively your fault, and the kid is about to say some things that under normal circumstances would get her done for treason. Best not to put yourself in the line of fire unless she asks.”

“...Fair enough.”

An agonised scream ripped through the sitting room. Halei tensed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “Brings back bad memories,” she muttered.

For the first time since she’d arrived, Mae softened, messy bun of greying dark hair bobbing as she nodded. “I know. You’ve been through a lot with her. But she’s strong, and once this is over, there’ll be a brand new generation of Lux for you to meet.” She smiled. “She’ll be okay. Trust me.”

“Mari?” came Esperance’s voice from somewhere within the bedroom. “Mari??”

“That’s my cue.” Mae pushed off from the doorframe and straightened. “Fortify, you two. You’re not the ones pushing out a baby!” With that, she turned on her heel and closed the bedroom door.

Halei glanced at Elerian. “I still can’t get over the fact that V’s tattooist is also a midwife.”

“The two are not so dissimilar,” Elerian answered. “There are many many ways to guide someone through pain.”

After a moment of contemplation, Halei shrugged. “Spiritual people are weird.”

With a snort of laughter, Elerian shook his head at the Drow. “You are a terrible paladin.”

VI.

Exhausted beyond words, Aviva held the warm little bundle to her chest, smiling sleepily as Halei and Elerian gathered around her.

“Ada, Nana,” she addressed them in murmured Elvish, “this is Zahira.”

VII.

Celestine glanced at the ornate Gnomish clock on the wall of her office. She had woken at Elerian’s side, had seen him at breakfast, had reminded him of the items on the day’s docket. He had attended the morning’s meeting and completed the first half of the to-do list, then sequestered himself to rewrite a speech and promised to join her again at half past three. As the hands of the clock neared four, Celestine stood. Elerian the Seer was not one to miss an appointment.

Making her way through the busy kitchen and up the manor’s back stairs to the domestic floors, Celestine checked Elerian’s bedchamber, then the study. The speech sat mostly revised on his desk, which was a relief, but its writer was still nowhere to be found. She stepped back into the hall, looking this way and that, her hands on her hips and a confused frown on her face. The manor was large, but it was not that large.

“Celes?”

Rounding a corner, Astos canted his head, dark hair freeing itself from behind one long ear. “You look as if you’ve lost something,” he noted as he approached.

“Our husband,” she responded with a sigh. “We have to finish the plans for next week’s reception and he was supposed to meet me half an hour ago. Have you seen him?”

Astos shook his head. “I’ve not. But if I had to wager, he’s probably with the girls.”

“I don’t believe I’ll take that wager.” Celestine’s smile began wryly, but quickly softened. “I’ll check their quarters. We’re lucky the baby can’t get that far yet, or I’d never find him again.” With a wave, she left Astos to chuckle to himself as she turned down the next hallway.

Reaching Aviva and Haluei’en’s door, she knocked politely. They had given her free reign to enter unannounced long ago, but she preferred an invitation when possible. “Aviva?” No answer. “It’s Celestine. Is Elerian with you?” Silence. “Aviva? Haluei’en?” After one final pause, Celestine pushed open the door and poked her head inside.

Haluei’en sat slouched on the sofa, her head tipped back against the pillows. Aviva lay on her belly with her head in the Drow’s lap, stretched longways across the seat cushions, one arm dangling over the side and brushing the floor. Elerian rested on the floor with his back against the sofa, nearly mirroring Haluei’en but for using Aviva’s hip as a pillow; cradled in his lap lay baby Zahira. All four of them, Celestine realised, were sound asleep.

From atop one of the back pillows, Demon opened her amber eyes and blinked. Celestine nodded at her. “You’re right,” she whispered. “It can wait. I’ll come back later.”

Demon closed her eyes.

VIII.

Blinking away the fog of sleep that momentarily washed over her, Aviva stifled a yawn. Well aware of their vital importance, she could not help but find Elvish ambassadorial meetings to be monstrously tedious and often irritating affairs. Despite Elerian’s marriage to the leader of the Wood Elves and his close working relationship with the new Archmagistrix of the Drow, there was always some petty squabble or long-held grudge from the lower ranks delaying and complicating negotiations. Even Halei’s presence as a neutral Arbiter could do little to keep the table of testy Elves on track. For her part, Aviva represented the Tieflings and other marginalised communities within each of the Elven nations, interjecting on their behalf when necessary and advocating for them to receive the help they needed. Of course, given the pace of the talks, she suspected she would not need to speak up until next week at the earliest.

Zahira stirred in her arms. Tiny golden eyes blinked up at her, framed by an expression of mild confusion that never failed to make her smile. “Hi baby,” she whispered, gently running her fingers across her daughter’s cheek and through her white-blonde hair. Zahira fussed in response, freeing a hand from her blanket and grabbing at the low neckline of Aviva’s tunic. “Hungry again? Okay, okay, hold on.” As a Wood Elven administrator droned on from across the table, Aviva loosened the ties of her tunic, unwrapping one side and shifting the girl into position.

“Excuse me!” barked a voice, cutting off the Wood Elf mid-stream. Looking up to see what had caused such an outburst, Aviva realised the voice belonged to Elerian’s most obstinately old-fashioned advisor, and that he was looking at her as if he had just stepped in something unsavoury. “That is most indecent!” he continued in Elvish. “Revealing, flaunting herself in the middle of an official conference! It’s not proper!” He shifted in his chair to address Elerian. “My Prince, I request she be removed at once.”

Before Elerian could respond, Aviva cocked her head. “I am feeding my child, my lord,” she explained in measured, fluent Elvish. “It is both natural and a necessity, so if there is a law against it, I pray you show it to me. Or perhaps you are cranky because you are hungry too?” She gestured to her chest. “I do have another breast if you need a snack to quell your tantrum.”

A ripple of laughter spread across the table, punctuated by Halei’s sharp snort. Elerian tried valiantly to keep his expression neutral, but the pride in his eyes betrayed him. The advisor’s face reddened and he spluttered a few times before sinking back into his chair, duly cowed.

Elerian spread his hands. “My apologies for the interruption. Please continue, Ambassador.”

From the far end of the table, Halei caught Aviva’s eye, a psychic ‘I love you’ passing through the Tiefling’s head. She gave Halei a wink.

IX.

“Tea?”

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Esperance smiled at her daughter, sitting at the kitchen table as if she’d never left, then at her granddaughter, amusing herself with wooden blocks at Aviva’s feet. “Warm milk for the baby?”

“Nah, she’ll have her lunch in a bit. I grabbed some jars of food before we left.” Aviva patted the pack occupying the chair next to her. “I almost miss when I was the only source of food. Much easier to carry.”

“But soon you’ll be able to start cooking with her.” Esperance set two mugs of tea on the table before easing into the closest chair. “And start baking.”

Aviva grinned. “Few more years before we get to that. Things take for-fucking-ever for Half-Elves.” Raising a defiant eyebrow at Esperance’s reproachful look, she sipped her tea. “Did you finally get Pippa to start baking?”

“Nearly,” Esperance answered with a smile that took years from her face. “She managed not to burn the house down. We’re working on it.”

“I’m glad you two got together.” Aviva leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the table. “You deserve to be happy.”

Esperance flushed girlishly, gold eyes fixed on the steaming swirls of her tea. “She’s a good woman. I thought it would be strange, such an old friend of your father’s… But it helps that she knew him. That she still misses him sometimes too.” She met Aviva’s gaze. “He would be so, so proud of you. Your music, your family, your friends, your work. The world we know is because of you. Because of your capacity to love and believe, despite everything. He would be… at least half as proud as me.”

It was Aviva’s turn to flush. She looked at her daughter, who bore her father’s name, then at her mother. “I wouldn’t be me without you, Mama.” She reached a hand across the table, finding Esperance’s fingers and lacing them tightly with hers. “Thank you.”

X.

“Mama? Nana?”

Aviva rolled toward Zahira’s voice, bleary-eyed. “What is it, baby?”

“I had a bad dream.” The girl’s voice was muffled behind the plush dragon she held tightly to her chest. “Can I come sleep with you?”

“Of course, my love.”

“And Maergrahn III?”

“Always.”

Before Aviva could shift her weight, Halei had already risen, stepping around the edge of the bed and and scooping Zahira into her arms. Planting a kiss on her cheek, the Drow set her daughter beside her wife and crawled back under the covers. “There we go, love. Have a lie down and your mama and I will make it go away.”

With a small nod, Zahira shimmied beneath the blanket until she could rest her head on the pillows. Propping herself up on one elbow, Aviva kissed the girl, then the stuffed dragon, then kissed the fingers of her other hand and tapped them to Halei’s shoulder. Settling back down, each mother wrapped an arm around Zahira and closed her eyes.

XI.

“Good,” Aviva nodded. “Very good. How did that feel?”

Lowering his bow, Ofer kept his back straight, violin tucked against his chin as he went over the piece in his head. “I’m still having trouble with the third movement.”

“You are, but it was the best you’ve done so far. Remember to hold on to that when you start to get frustrated. Your head knows how to play it. Your hands just need a little more time to get there.”

“Yes, Lady V,” the young Tiefling recited. Aviva could not help but smile. ‘Lady V’ was the compromise she and the boy had come to, delicately balancing his wide-eyed deference to the Hero of Light and Prince’s paramour with her personal discomfort at having so many damned titles. It did occasionally cross her mind that ‘Lady Lux’ would have had more of a ring to it, but what had once been armour had long ago returned to its rightful place as a family surname. ‘Lady Aviva’ was her name at formal ceremonies and on official papers, so ‘Lady V’ was the best she could get from Ofer.

“Do you want to run through it again, or work on your other piece?” Aviva waited; when the boy did not respond, she cocked her head. “Ofer?”

Ofer blinked. “Yeah. Sorry, Lady V. I was…” He shrugged. “I dunno.”

Aviva settled into one of the plush high-backed chairs dotting the manor’s drawing room, watching Ofer’s face. “What’s up, sweet pea? Something’s been on your mind all day, I can tell.” Ofer nodded sheepishly, his shoulders slumping. Aviva smiled. “Then let’s rest for a minute and you can tell me about it.”

“Okay.” With a sigh, Ofer set his violin and bow in the open case at his feet. “My parents… Ever since I got my own room, they make me sleep with the door open. So they can check on me during the night. And last night, I woke up, and I saw my mum at the door, and… I dunno, I just got mad. I got out of bed and I told her to go away and I slammed the door.” He looked at Aviva helplessly. “She didn’t say anything this morning, but I could tell she was sad. I don’t even know why I got mad. She's just so nervous all the time. If I'm not where she expects me to be, she panics, and then dad gets mad, and I just… I don't understand.”

Aviva listened, and when the boy had finished, she nodded. “That's a lot. It's okay to be frustrated.” Ofer started. “It is. My mother used to be like that when I was little, and it was hard. I can get like that sometimes too, and it's hard on Zahira.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “How much have your parents told you about the Calling?” Even after all these years, the word still sent a chill down her spine.

"Not a lot.” Ofer gave a small shrug. “It was scary, and it's why they have scars and why dad has a glass eye. And that you saved them.”

“Not just me. They were strong. They let me help them.” Aviva took a deep breath. “The Calling is a wound, a trauma our people are still recovering from. For many of us, it was the worst in a long line of bad things. There was a time when we thought there wouldn't be any of us left.” A sad smile flitted across her face. “I still get nightmares about it sometimes.”

“You do??” Ofer stared at her, his eyes as large as saucers.

Aviva chuckled softly. “Is it so hard to believe? I get scared too. And when I wake up, it can take some time to reassure myself the nightmare wasn't real. I can talk to my wife or to the Prince, but sometimes I go to Zahira's room and look in on her. Make sure she's still there.” She took one of Ofer's hands in her own. “Our people have lost a lot. Things are better now, but it's hard not to worry about the people and things we love. We want to keep them safe, and sometimes we show that in confusing or unhelpful ways. Your parents mean well; their hearts are in the right place.”

“So what do I do?”

“Talk to them. Explain how they're making you feel. They may mean well, but your feelings are valid, too. Talk to them about what they went through, how it’s still affecting them, and how that’s affecting you. They may not be ready to talk about everything just yet, but you can start the conversation and go from there.” She squeezed the boy’s hand. “What’s most important is that they love you. So, so much.” Tilting her head, she smiled. “Okay?”

Ofer nodded, and smiled in return. “Okay.”

“Okay. Want to take another crack at the third movement?”

“Okay!”

XII.

Aviva loved the light in Elerian’s bedchamber. The delicate curtains drawn across the windows and pinned over the skylights diffused the afternoon sun, scattering and softening the rays into a meditative glow. By contrast, the rich damask canopy of the four-poster bed kept sleepers in the embrace of darkness even at midday. It was a humble place, at least relative to his station; while the public spaces in the manor were for show, the bedchamber was for him alone.

“Reminiscing?”

From her position against the doorframe, Aviva looked over her shoulder, smiling as Elerian approached. “El’an,” she greeted him. “I suppose I was. The first time I saw you, you were asleep in that bed.” She smirked. “A pale little thing, you were. Caused us all quite a bit of stress.”

Elerian laughed lightly, resting a hand on the Tiefling’s hip. “A most wretched sight, to be certain. I imagine I was the very picture of Elven frailty, was I not?”

With a grin, Aviva looped her arms around his neck. “Luckily for us, you’re sturdier than you look.”

“Waiting for you and your Heroic kin gave me the strength to carry on,” Elerian responded with utter sincerity, then broke into a chuckle at Aviva’s raised eyebrow. “I knew you would come. I had seen it many times before. The only information I lacked was who you would be when you arrived.”

“Do you miss it? Being able to See?”

Elerian considered that for a moment. “There are times that throw into sharp relief just how much I relied upon it. When the chapters of one’s life have been laid out for them from their first breath, stepping onto the unknown page is daunting, to say the least.” He slid both hands around her waist, drawing her close, and she lowered her forehead to rest against his. “Which is why I shall forever thank my good fortune that you are one of the writers of these pages.”

After all these years, he could still make her blush. “Gi melin, elrandir.” I love you, star-wanderer.

“Gi melin, feanare.” Spirit of Flame.

XIII.

“There’s my wife!”

Setting her pack down by the door, Halei stepped into Aviva’s waiting arms, burying her face in the Tiefling’s neck. “Hello you.”

“Hi sunshine. Welcome back.” Aviva rested her cheek against Halei’s head. “You hungry?”

“Starving.” Lifting her head, Halei nodded over Aviva’s shoulder to the large basket sitting on the dining table. “Is that what that’s for?”

“It most certainly is.” Aviva released the Drow, who knelt to greet Ladybug of the Line of Demon as she trotted in from the kitchen. “I was away, then you were away; it feels like we haven’t eaten together in ages. El’an has the baby tonight, so I thought we might have a walk in the garden. What do you think?”

Halei smiled. “Nothing would please me more. Let me get my armour off and we can go.”

“Sure. I’ll finish packing.” Aviva paused, then smiled, remembering the first time they had taken a dinner basket into the manor garden. “Wear something soft.”

On her way to the armoury closet, Halei stopped, looking back at Aviva with a knowing smile. “It’s a date.”

XIV.

“Still with me, kid?”

Aviva let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a purr. Mae laughed. “Good. Almost done. Time to come back to reality.”

“I’m here.” Aviva was no stranger to trancing out during tattoo sessions, breathing deeply and evenly as her mind wandered far from where she sat, topless and backwards on a chair in Mae’s tent in Corneria City. “Perfect timing, I was just thinking I needed to pee.”

Mae snorted and good-naturedly muttered for her client to shut up. A few minutes later, she lowered her needles. “There. You want to see it, or do you want to pee first?”

Aviva tried to shoot a withering look over her shoulder, but it quickly melted into a smile. “Let’s see it.”

With a nod, Mae slid a large mirror from beneath the low table at her side and held it in front of her. After cracking her neck and gingerly rolling her shoulders, Aviva peeked at the image freshly decorating her back. A sun, a moon and a star danced across her shoulder blades, connected by subtle, flowing lines that called to mind the night sky, or streaks of flame. She exhaled slowly. “It’s perfect.”

“Of course it is,” Mae scoffed, but her grin was genuine. “Now let’s get you wrapped and get you home.” As she stood to move the mirror and retrieve the oils and bandages, she leaned down to kiss one of Aviva’s horns. “Happy birthday, kid.”

XV.

For all the thrilling adventures she had experienced in her life, there was nothing quite like an audience’s applause. And oh, did they love the Hearthmother.

Aviva grinned, radiant, and dipped into a sweeping bow, the teal-emerald-indigo fabric of her gown shimmering like sunlit ocean water as she moved. She gestured to her side, introducing her friend and collaborator Rhos Liadon to the approving roar of the crowd. Caught somewhere between terror and elation at the sheer size of the Aelfheim concert hall, the Half-Orc sketched a somewhat less fluid bow, then wrapped Aviva in a crushing hug and planted a kiss on her cheek. Stepping back, they selected their preferred instruments from the collection behind them -- they planned to play a great variety of music tonight -- and with a shared wink, they began.

A reel. A waltz. A ballad. A Cornerian folk song, sung in round. A duet of piano and cello. Solo violin. A raga. A chiftitelli. A chaconne. An Elvish sonatina. Lute and illusory drums. Mandolin. Paired voices, a symphony of two. The bards had travelled across the world and back, and they brought all their knowledge and experience to bear in pursuit of musical perfection. They had planned a concert unlike any other, and they would not disappoint.

Finally, Rhos slung a banjo about his shoulders while Aviva tuned her guitar. He told the sea of excited faces that they had written a song together, and asked with a cheeky smirk if they would like to hear it. The response was deafening. Once the cheers had faded, Aviva conjured a set of keys before them, coaxing a gentle melody from the air. Their voices started softly, as did their strings, gradually building until suddenly they burst into an exuberant chorus. The lyrics wondered if they would find their home, even as the notes told them of course they would. A question answered with perfect surety. They knew where home was.

Even through the brightness of the lights, Aviva could see the little boxes built into the sides of the concert hall. Less ostentatious, comparatively, than other theatrical architecture, they sat nearly flush with the wall, providing a clear view of the stage without obstructing other patrons. Ensconced in the furthest box, she might not have seen the occupants at all, had she not known precisely where to look.

Elerian’s head was nodding in time with the music; Haluei’en was bouncing Zahira on her knee. In the box below them, Morgan chatted animatedly with Esperance, tapping her fingers on the ornate wooden railing. Maergrahn danced nimbly about behind them, perfectly content to filter the music into his own little world. Wilhelm, in a rare appearance outside his tower, sat rapt, as if trying to take in every detail of the performance. Zahira noticed her mama glancing in their direction and waved her hands, turning to say something to Halei before resuming her wave. As the song ended, Aviva blew the girl a kiss.

Rhos took her hand and gave her a spin. They laughed, and bowed. Her heart soared.

My home in you.

(Art by @sbeep​, @aguydrawsgames​ and @kimbles​)

Endless gratitude and love to SB for playing Sol and for telling this beautiful story with me (and for trusting me to go nuts with the epilogue, and for the exquisite art). Even more gratitude and love to @stonegolem​ for creating this wonderful story and expansive world for us all to muck about in, as well as playing Elerian and rolling with my schmaltzy story ideas. I’m gonna miss telling this story, but I’m so, so glad it’s been told.

[smokeybrand]

Zodiac Age

It’s no secret that i am a massive fan of the Final Fantasy series. Essays abut that franchise riddle this blog. My adoration for their world building and storytelling is profound, even is they kind of devolve into a Star Wars-esque retelling at time. Square sure does love that Hero Journey literary trope. Things like that don’t bug me because there are little unique changes to that specific plot, little dashes of creativity that take the form of setting, characters, or overall plot. It might follow the trope in the sense of character development, but the story told to get there is wholly it’s own. And let me tell you, some of these stories are the best that’s ever been told.

Final Fantasy VII is my favorite of the entire series. Great characters, vivid world, and a plot simple enough to follow but embellished to near mythic levels. Final Fantasy IX is another favorite, though, that one is more a fairy tale than anything. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a goddamn masterpiece and epic in it’s own right, but that story is more than at home with those old Grimm tales we were told as kids. It’s mad endearing that way. Final Fantasy Tactics, spin-off title, is probably the best story, overall, told under the FF banner and it’s not even a main title. The War of Lions is a tale of political intrigue, familial bonds, and devastating betrayal sprinkled with magic and demons and summons and dragons. It’s f*cking incredible and can give Game  of Thrones a run for it’s money. I imagine, in time, i’ll revisit these stories and gush about why i love them so but that’s not what this essay is about. No, this essay is about the second best narrative in the entire FF franchise; A narrative that has been written off because people couldn’t get passed the gameplay. This essay is about my fourth favorite Final Fantasy title, Final Fantasy XII

The strongest part of this game is easily the story. It starts with a wedding. A beautiful affair between two nations to solidify a peaceful relation and treaty of prosperity but that bliss would not last. War, a bloody coupe, the death of a prince, and the betrayal of a king. All of this happens in the intro to the game. As you play, you take the perspective of a common street rat. You follow along with his misadventures, exploring the oasis city of Rabanastre withing the annexed kingdom of Dalmasca. During his various excursions, Vaan finds himself entwined with the charismatic sky pirate and main character, Balthier, as well as his longtime Viera companion, Fran. After a heist gone wrong, the group find themselves thrown into the same lot as the presumed dead princess of Dlamasca, Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca, and the man framed for murdering her father, Basch Fon Ronsenburg. The party is eventually completed by the final addition of Vaan’s childhood friend, Penelo. What starts as a tale of rebellion and unrest, evolves into something so much more. The dismantling of the current world system, the shattering of chains binding man to malevolent gods, wresting control of human destiny back into human hands, and a destiny laid forth by a visionary painted as a tyrant.

Final Fantasy XII is a grand epic that feels very intimate, very small. You’re never far from the characters or their plight. Indeed, it’s their development and relationships that drive this story. Political intrigue and human destiny aside, the interactions between these individuals are absolutely wonderful. Vaan is a chump but, having played this game several times and looking back on this story with the eyes of an adult who appreciates great storytelling, his blank personality is necessary. He’s the vehicle the audience uses to immerse themselves in this world. He’s our allegory so ll that bland that colors him is simple place holder. an is who we make him. On the other end of that spectrum, you have the “villain” Vayne Carudas Solidor. Vayne is easily one of the best written characters in the entire franchise. His characterization and development can give Delita from Tactics and Ardyn Izunia from XV. Holy sh*t, Ardyn is magnificent. I can write an entire essay on him, alone, but that’s one for later. Maybe. XII is one of the best written of all the FF titles but Vayne, specifically, is written on an entirely different level. There’s never a time when you do not understand his motivation. There is never a time where you do not agree with his logic. There is never a time when you condemn his deeds. They are all necessary for the ultimate goal of human prosperity. Vayne is the antagonist of this story because of circumstance and he understands that better than anyone. He even prepared for that eventuality with his brother, Larsa. Even in defeat, he still wins; A victory for all that cost him everything. F*cking brilliant writing, man. Brilliant.

The world of Final Fantasy XII is absolutely gorgeous. It takes place in Ivalice, the only recurring setting in the FF franchise. It’s a staple, like Chocobos or Moogles. Vagrant Story and the Tactics games all take place here, to varying capacities. I love how meaty the lore and systems are for this universe. The Judge system permeates almost every title taking place here and they are to be heeded. Ranging from consequences of battle to outright characters in the narrative, these judges often have ornate armors and insane strength. Gabranth, the main Judge of XII, serves a rather dubious role throughout this tale. He and his contemporary, Cidolfus Demen Bunansa, the Cid of this game and father of Blathier, work together with Vayne to further his ambitions. Chasing their wake leads our team all over Ivalcie, visiting Ordalia, Valdenia, Kerwon, and Purvma. We follow Fran home to the Salikawood and hunt some powerful monsters in the rolling dunes of the Giza Plains. This world is gorgeously realized with loving passion and gentle renders. It really is a feast for the eyes.

Now, the reason everyone passes on this particular title lies in the fact that the gameplay doesn’t feel like an FF title. In that regard, the discourse is correct. XII does not play like a traditional Final Fantasy title. It skews closer to their MMO titles rather than their offline fair. It can be difficult to learn but is it really so different than what you’re used to? Is it really so alien? XII does a pretty decent job teaching you how to manage your party. Admittedly, yo can’t directly control what everyone does at every second but all titles in this franchise are kind of like this. I can see how that aspect can be disorientating wit the pseudo-action RPG aesthetic. That’s why there are Gambits. These things are little predetermined commands that allow you to program your party while you handle the heavy lifting on wither offense, defense, or support. It’s kind of like the system they use in FFXIII but, you know, good. You still play XII. You still have the ability to control your characters, in a limited capacity. Sure, i would have liked to have more direct command over my party but this workaround is fine once you get used to it. Besides, i think they fixed this in the international Zodiac version or whatever. I haven’t played that one yet but what we have in the vanilla game, the License Board, Tecnicks, Magicks, Quickenings, and Espers, all add a variety that gives you copious amounts of strategy. Building a character strong enough to trust to the Gambit system has it’s own reward.

Final Fantasy XII is an outstanding title that deserves so much more respect than anyone gives it. Your requisite hitters like IX and VII are rightfully mentioned in a much greater capacity but lesser titles like X and VIII have no business holding their position in the fandom zeitgeist in lieu of XII. This game has one of the most epic stories, a brisk plot rarely marred down by melodrama, one of the greatest villains in the entire franchise, and it’s absolutely gorgeous. The world is lush, full of life and vibrancy, hiding a sinister undertone that grips your attention until the very end. If you can manage the learning curve of the battle system, if you give it a chance, you’ll be rewarded with one of the all-time great games in the Final Fantasy pantheon.

[tsukkeilate]

Dear Future Parents

CHAPTER THREE

As they walked to his father’s residence, Chisaki could see why one of his mother’s description of his father was that he’s charming.

This is the fourth time they were stopped by giggling school girls flocking around his father, who decided to entertain them a bit before excusing himself. His charismatic smile paired with pointed comments on how he’ll be late if he stay any longer deterred those girls from bothering him further. Chisaki could only watch in awe and mild amusement as they stammer in apology and point fingers at their companions for disturbing his father. They usually erupt in small banter after his father take his leave. Though oddly enough, these girls seem to never notice his presence. Perhaps they were too engrossed by his charming father that they forgot there’s another person accompanying him?

“Am I ugly?” Chisaki asked after catching up with his father’s pace.

“Chisa-chan, you look like me. Are you saying I’m ugly?” Oikawa replied instead.

“No, but the girls don’t look like they’ve noticed me.” Chisaki reasoned.

“Oh, that. I have been diverting their attention away from you. We never know what will happen in the future if you interact with anyone in the past. Anyone except me, of course.” Oikawa said.

Chisaki arched an eyebrow at his father’s explanation, “why exactly?”

“Tut-tut. Don’t be too impatient, Chisa-chan! We’re near my home anyway.” Oikawa said lightly.

“Can you stop calling me that? My name is Chisaki. Not Chisa-chan.” Chisaki said, grumbling.

Oikawa pretended to be in deep thought, “hmmm... nope! Chisa-chan’s cuter.” He said with that infuriating faux happy voice that ticks his son off.

“You’re annoying.” Chisaki said, crossing his arms.

Oikawa dramatically placed his hand on his chest, “how mean! Is this how I raised you to be? Disrespectful to your elders?!” He said.

Chisaki rolled his eyes, “I don’t know, my mother raised me.” He replied.

Oikawa caught on to the implication and flinched, which didn’t go unnoticed to Chisaki. They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, before Oikawa announced they’ve reached their destination few minutes later.

“Make yourself at home Chisa-chan.” Oikawa said, putting his bag on his chair.

Chisaki scanned his father’s bed room. Volley ball posters posted on walls, a glass shelf at the left most corner, bed made and the place overall tidy. There were few gym equipment sitting at the rightmost corner of his room, including a worn out volleyball.

Chisaki noticed the certificates and medals displayed at the glass shelf, carefully examining them one by one.

“Mom wasn’t kidding when she said you were the best setter in the prefecture.” Chisaki mumbled.

“Aw, thank you Chisa-chan. You flatter me.” Oikawa said, grinning.

Chisaki decided to ignore his father and continued looking around. Chisaki stopped when he saw the pictures adorning his father’s study desk, carefully placed behind a thin sheet of tempered glass.

It was his parents’ photos taken at various places; some were from those cutesy photo booths he could never imagine his mother going to on her own (his father most likely the suspect) with cute filters plastered on the sides. Others were from the local museums, parks and amusement rides. There were also separate photos of them, most of which are middle school graduation and tournament pictures.

Chisaki took his time to view his parents’ photos, and noted how young his mother looked. Her hair’s longer too. Chisaki known for a fact his mother was attractive; the stories told to him by his aunt Shou and uncle Hitoka gave him the impression that his mother was constantly courted by male students and if it weren’t for his father, who was her boyfriend at the moment, she would have been aggressively sought after.

He just didn’t realize that his mother was this pretty. She grew from a lanky child to a tall slender young woman who accentuates her beauty by her expressive blue eyes and bow shaped lips. On top of that, she possess a fair skin, luscious raven locks and body shaped like an hour glass. Her atrocious sense of fashion can’t mask how stunning she is. Chisaki’s led to believe that her mother deserves better than his absent father, who was being suspiciously quiet for a while now.

“Lovely isn’t she?” Oikawa said quietly, gazing at his mother’s photo with fondness and adoration in his eyes.

Chisaki said nothing as Oikawa coughed to recompose himself.

“Anyway! I’m sure you didn’t come here all the way from the future to talk about how splendid the pictures on my desk are.” He started, “so I’ll answer any of your questions as long as they don’t endanger the future.”

“Why am I here?” Chisaki did not hesitate to ask the first thing that came into his mind, “and why did you act as if you know I’ll be here when we first met?”

“Slow down Chisa-chan, we got time.” Oikawa chuckled at his son’s eagerness to ask.

“As for the first question, I’m not entirely sure. In most cases, people are sent from the future to the past to fix something wrong in the timeline. Which we have to oversee to ensure they don’t go overboard with it. As for the second question, I was told by the agency that there will be an anomaly arriving today. By anomaly, it means people from the future. I wasn’t told the exact time and number of people so I skipped classes and grabbed the first train boarding from Tokyo to Miyagi.”

‘Agency? Anomaly?’ Something isn’t right.

“What are you?” Chisaki asked, a bit terse.

Oikawa seemed to mull over his response, “hm... I suppose that is the question you’ve been dying to ask. To put it simply, I’m an esper. My ability is to time travel, in which I was recruited by the Agency that specializes dealing with Espers.”

“Stop fooling around.” Chisaki scowled. “I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t fool me.”

Oikawa placed his hands up, “I’m not, I promise. I guess you need proof to believe.” He said thoughtfully.

��How about this. In the future, Freckles-chan and Manager-kun would get married and have twins.” Oikawa said. Chisaki crinkled his nose in confusion.

“Who?”

“Yamaguchi-chan and Hitoka-kun.”

Chisaki looked his father sceptically. Given the circumstances, there’s no reason for him to lie. And to be able to name an event correctly from the future, Chisaki reluctantly admits that his father might be one of those people.

“Since you’re an esper, does that mean I’m one too?” He asked instead.

“Have you manifested any signs from when you’re younger? Such as weird paranormal activity happening around you?” Oikawa asked.

“No.” Chisaki promptly replied.

“Then, it’s safe to say you aren’t. My older sister does not possess esper abilities as well.”

Chisaki doesn’t know if he’ll be relieved or disappointed that he turned out to be normal, unlike his father. So he decided to console himself that at least he’s good at volleyball and his mother is a pro-volleyball player who teaches him techniques in her spare time.

“I think that’s all I want to know.” Chisaki said, satisfied, “thanks dad.”

Oikawa blinked owlishly at him, “oh... right.” He coughed, “sorry, I can’t get used to you calling me dad when we’re practically same age right now.”

“Have you ever travelled to the future?” Chisaki asked curiously.

“Sometimes, when I need to.” Oikawa replied. “But it takes up a lot of energy so as much as possible I don’t.”

“I see.” Chisaki said.

“If you don’t have any more questions,” Oikawa stopped mid-sentence to rummage around his clothes, selecting a white face mask and black cap, “wear this.”

“Why?” Chisaki asked with a brow raised.

“Because you’re going on a disguise!” Oikawa replied

“No one knows me.” Chisaki said, tone laced with heavy judgement.

“That’s not the case, Chisa-chan. You can’t talk to anyone here. And if someone noticed how you look similarly like me, they’re bound to question you.” Oikawa reasoned, as if it was obvious.

Chisaki clicked his tongue, “fine.” He said, taking the mask and cap from Oikawa.

“Oh! Try these on too.” Oikawa handed him a pair of rounded eyeglasses. Chisaki said nothing and took it from his father. “They don’t have a grade, don’t worry.”

After putting them on, he looked himself at the mirror to see if it matches his outfit. Even when he’s on a disguise he should look presentable and not a walking fashion disaster.

Like his mother, he mentally supplied.

Thank gods he’s always there to deter her from wearing some very questionable color combinations.

With his black tracksuit and pair of white running shoes, his disguise fit well with his ensemble. Although he thinks that the face mask makes him more suspicious, he decided not to question it.

“All set? Let’s go!” Oikawa enthused.

“Order everything you want, it’s on me.” Oikawa sing songed, leafing through the menu.

The place they went to eat wasn’t that far from his father’s residence. It was a ten minute walk, which wasn’t that bad. Truthfully, Chisaki had never been in a bistro, usually it’s either a fancy restaurant or fast food when he and his mother eat out, depending on the occasion.

“Really?” Chisaki asked in confirmation, his eyes lit up as if it was Christmas.

Oikawa chuckled, “Yes.” He said.

“Well then. I want ...”

Oikawa watched his son eat happily with platters of food in front of him, not once faltering on his pace. He could feel his wallet becoming lighter, as Chisaki finish the food on the plates with vigour.

“This is your mother’s favourite place.” Oikawa commented, “she eats a lot too.”

“Sha hen awthele. ”

“Swallow your food before talking, Chisaki-chan.”

Chisaki swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin, “she’s an athlete. It’s given.” He pointed out.

“I’m an athlete too but I don’t eat like this.” Oikawa reminded him.

“She’s a growing child.” Chisaki retorted.

“Mhmm sure.” Oikawa said.

Chisaki took another bite, “play with me.” He said.

“Pardon?”

“You’re also a volleyball player right? A setter too. Toss to me after this.” He said.

Oikawa clicked his tongue. He reached across the table and flicked Chisaki’s forehead.

“Tone it down brat, I’m still older than you.” Oikawa said, slightly irked. “Geez, is volleyball the only thing in your mind? You're like your mother.”

“I have excellent grades.” Chisaki replied.

“At least you inherited my intelligence. Tobio-chan’s grades are terrible that she usually has to take supplementary lessons before being allowed on court.” Oikawa said, sighing dramatically.

“She does?” Chisaki asked, surprised. His mother never mentioned anything like that.

“She does.” Oikawa said sagely, “along with Chibi-chan.”

“Who?”

“The one with orange hair. Hinata.”

“Ah.” Chisaki started eating again, “You have weird names for people.” He pointed out.

“I do not!” Oikawa denied.

“You do.” Chisaki said flatly, “anyway, uncle Toshi used to tutor aunt Shou too when they were still dating.”

“What.” Oikawa stood up suddenly, garnering stares from other customers. He smiled at them before sitting down, his intrigued eyes on Chisaki.

“Ushiwaka and Chibi-chan are dating?” He asked.

Chisaki regarded him for a second, “yeah.” He paused before he added, “they’re married. Their baby’s arriving at winter.”

Chisaki took his time being entertained at his father’s flabbergasted face. He was absolutely dumbfounded that aunt Shou and Uncle Toshi are having a baby and married. He wished he could take a snap at his father’s face, it’s too hilarious not to.

“What did chibi-chan saw in him anyway? He’s boring.” Oikawa muttered, suddenly annoyed after the initial shock worn out.

“You don’t like uncle Toshi?” Chisaki tilted his head, “why?”

“He’s a stoic asshole who thinks he’s above everyone else.” Oikawa replied without hesitation, “also he keeps gloating over the fact that his team would always beat mine. ‘You should have to Shiratorizawa’, he always say. It’s annoying!”

When his father made a poor attempt in mimicking Ushijima’s voice, Chisaki couldn’t help but to laugh out loud. His father’s dislike towards his uncle was comedy gold.

“Hey! Why are you laughing?! It’s true, you know!” Oikawa said, indignant.

This caused him to laugh harder, which fuels to the irritation of his father. Oikawa thinks that his son is having too much fun over the idea that he and Ushijima don’t get along. It’s unnerving to say the least.

While the two was engrossed in their conversation, they did not notice a female figure entering the bistro and approaching them right after she saw them by the window.

“Tooru-san?”

Oikawa turned his attention to the feminine voice, his worsening mood instantly became better.

“Tobio-chan!”

Chisaki, on the other hand, couldn’t help but to gape as he stares at the younger version of his mother all in her youthful glory. He couldn’t believe the younger self of his mother was standing right in front of him, clueless of the distant future.

A/N : In this narrative, Oikawa's 19 (currently in uni) and Tobio's 17 (third year). Additionally, I took the liberty to incorporate mob 100 verse regarding Oikawa's special abilities. Like Mob, he's a normal student but with special part time jobs.

(Yes, he gets paid that's why he can treat his son like that #RichDad)

I hope this chapter is to your liking! See you in the next!

[chocolateheal]

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Childish Gambino, the date name of amateur Donald Glover, and addition arresting rap nominee, Kendrick Lamar, both beneath invitations to accomplish or appear Sunday’s show. Some rap artists feel the Grammys acquire been apathetic to admit how the brand now dominates accustomed music.

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Ludwig Goransson, a songwriter and ambassador on “This is America,” said backstage that he was afraid the victories were so historic. Aloof alert to the radio, watching the ability and seeing how abounding rap songs are downloaded is affirmation of rap’s impact.

“It’s about time article like this happened with the Grammys as well,” Goransson said.

Cardi B became the aboriginal abandoned woman to win best rap anthology , although Lauryn Hill was the advance accompanist of the Fugees, which won the aforementioned accolade at the 1997 Grammys. Cardi B was so afraid accepting the accolade that she joked, “Maybe I charge to alpha smoker weed.”

She looked annihilation but ashamed earlier, back her arrangement of “Money” was amid the night’s achievement highlights. Janelle Monae delivered a smoker adaptation of her hit “Make Me Feel”; St. Vincent and Dua Lipa’s affiliation on “Masseduction” was steamy; H.E.R. angry active with “Hard Place”; and Carlile sang an aggressive adaptation of her hit “The Joke.”

Being allotment of a big night for women was huge to her, Carlile said backstage afterwards the show.

“I’m a kid from the ’90s and Lilith Fair, you know, and those women were aloof assertive those platforms,” she said. “They were assertive those amphitheatre and amphitheater stages. They were accepting almanac deals. They were acceptable almanac admiral themselves. They absolutely controlled the airwaves. They were on the radio. And to watch that abate for the aftermost 20 years has been heartbreaking. Tonight, it gives me achievement as a mother of two adolescent daughters.”

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When she accustomed her best new artisan award, Dua Lipa advisedly said, “I assumption this year we absolutely stepped up.”

That was a advertence to approachable Recording Academy CEO Neil Portnow, who said women bare to “step up” back he was asked about the abridgement of women in top categories in 2018. He after accustomed it was a poor best of words and delivered addition mea culpa on Sunday’s show.

Yet Dua Lipa was adored by accepting her accepting accent cut off mid-sentence. She wasn’t alone, however, as a scattering of added artists were additionally hustled off the stage, and the actualization seemed aimless at the end, hasty through its final awards. Under the circumstances, accepting a diffuse accolade to Portnow afore he gave his own accent seemed tone-deaf.

Lipa said after she would acquire thanked her fans, her inspirations and aggregation if she had added time.

When she was onstage, Lipa was one of a scattering of winners who paid appropriate accolade to adolescent artists. Addition was Drake, whose actualization to acquire the Grammy back “God’s Plan” won best rap song was a abruptness because he’s not big on accolade shows.

He reminded admirers and adolescent artists that awards are based on the abstract angle of others, and aren’t contests in which there are bright winners and losers.

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“You’ve already won if you acquire bodies who are singing your songs chat for word, if you’re a hero in your hometown. Look, if there are bodies who acquire approved jobs who are advancing out in the rain and the snow, spending their hard-earned money to buy tickets to appear to your shows, you don’t charge this appropriate here. I affiance you. You already won,” he said at the Staples Centermost in Los Angeles.

Musgrave best up anthology of the year for “Golden Hour,” which is labeled country but had added appeal.

“I never dreamed that this almanac would be met with such love, such warmth, such positivity,” said Musgraves, who performed a august adaptation of her song “Rainbow.”

Dolly Parton starred in the best of the night’s two tributes to adept artists, assuming a assortment of her songs with Miley Cyrus, Katy Perry and Maren Morris. The highlight of Diana Ross’ night was the beautiful addition by a grandson with a abundance of hair.

The Grammys took some online blowback by accepting Jennifer Lopez bear a accolade to Motown , already the nation’s capital characterization for atramentous artists. Despite her hustle, Lopez was outshone by actualization host Alicia Keys and Smokey Robinson carrying one ballad of “Tracks of My Tears” a capella.

Obama appeared on the show’s aperture with Keys, Gaga, Lopez and Jada Pinkett Smith to call the role music had played in their lives — acutely a acicular advertence to aftermost year’s altercation over women artists.

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“Music has consistently helped me acquaint my story,” Obama said. “Whether we like country or rap or rock, music helps us allotment ourselves. It allows us to apprehend one another.”

Another ex-White House citizen was awarded a Grammy on Sunday. Former President Jimmy Carter, who is 94, won an accolade for best announced chat recording.

It’s his additional Grammy.

___

Associated Press writers Mesfin Fekadu, Nekesa Mumbi Moody, Jonathan Landrum and Beth Harris contributed to this report.

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[loftyexecutor]

besotted

pairing; addels [ISDE] rating; k category; fluff wc; 1610 notes; ive been working on this for a while and im excited to have it finally done!!!! features @dezimaton‘s aaaaaaamazing art, i cried seeing it!!!! enjoy this soft date setting!!

ao3 mirror

Who would’ve thought cover-all-body-parts, shy and stay-at-home-even-at-all-times Esper would willingly go outside in sweltering heat, clad in a dress that left his shoulders and arms completely bare. Not that Infi is complaining, mind you, quite the opposite, actually.

Though it feels a little switched to have Esper lead him around the Velder square this time, hand gripping Infi’s in an almost possessive hold as he shows Infi shop after shop, always stopping in front of the windows to peer inside.

It’s no surprise that whenever Esper spots anything cat-themed, he has to go in and get it. It’s not like he can’t afford it. Not even an hour into their outing and Esper has a bag chock-full; he couldn’t pass up the cute cat-face hairbands when his hair had been getting long enough to put in a tiny ponytail; neither could he say no to the hand-painted shirts; and Infi couldn’t not buy him that big-ass cat plushie that doubled as a pillow, not when Esper’s eyes quite literally lit up when he saw it.

A few thousand ED to see Esper glowing, the widest smile adorning his face? That’s a deal Infi would agree to even at three in the morning, sleep-deprived and on the verge of passing out.

He’s still stuck in his little reverie when Esper grasps his hand, fingers squeezing as he drags Infi through the cobblestoned square. “I’ve never shown you my favorite cafe,” Esper says, a little giddy and a little breathless, and Infi doesn’t have it in him to remind Esper that out of the two of them, only one likes anything related to coffee, and his name sure as hell doesn’t start with an ‘E’. He’s losing a battle with a smile occupying his face, anyway.

He cafe turns out to be tucked away in one of the many alleys branching from the main square, and it’d be easy missable, if not for the — admittedly — cute banner protruding from the wall, a cheery yellow against the wooden structure.

There’s a bell that chimes overhead as they enter and as soon as the door closes after them, they’re engulfed in the tranquil atmosphere of the place. Dark wooden tables are set up with floral tablecloths, far enough apart that the three people scattered in the corners wouldn’t even eavesdrop on them. Probably.

Infi can see why it’s Esper’s favorite; with the light walls and pastel curtains letting in the natural sunlight, it seems to be the perfect place to sit down and think for a while.

Esper chooses a table for them while Infi is busy admiring the colorful decor. He chooses the one directly by the large window, overlooking the other side of the street.

“Do you sit here?” Infi asks, reclining on the chair, “When you come here by yourself, I mean.”

Esper nods, peering out the window. “I like this spot, it’s pretty.”

Infi bites back a remark — ‘not as pretty as you, hah!’ — and follows Esper’s line of sight to the outside. For some reason he’s not surprised to see a garden; a field of grass beneath a tall tree, no road in sight. The breeze is toying with the leaves, casting moving shadows and glittering spots of light onto the luck greenery. Daffodils sprout in the endless grass, thousands and thousands yellow spots scattered all over. They look soft and almost beckon to be laid in while swaying to and fro to the whims of the wind.

Infi doesn’t usually pay attention to such things — and how could he, when it usually doesn’t matter what’s around them as long as it’s not toxic or actively trying to eat them whole.

“Hey,��� he says, tearing his eyes away from the spring display to find Esper’s gaze trained on him and him alone. Infi swallows, choking up a little as he looks at Esper, really looks at him for a second, frozen in the swaying sunlight that makes his eyes positively shine. He doesn’t look like a fierce warrior capable of tearing time and space itself at that moment; he looks like everything bright in Infi’s life at that one single point, pink cheeks and sharp teeth and all.

He feels compelled to lean over and kiss those plush lips, so he does, catching Esper off guard, if the little squeak he gasps out is anything to go by. Esper’s face colors an adorable shade of pink and Infi grins like a madman when he pulls away.

“Thanks you for showing me this place,” he says, leaning on his forearms. His face is set in a really sappy expression, probably. Esper squirms in his seat, averting his face; Infi can see the whites of his eyes turning dark. It’s so endearing to see Esper losing his composure over something so small.

The time traveler is saved further embarrassment when the server comes over to their table, fidgeting with her hands as she side eyes Infi, obviously favoring Esper’s side of the table.

“Hello, what can I get you?” she asks, tapping the tip of her pen against a notepad. She’s wearing a dark parron over a pastel green dress, a combination that both fits into and stands out in the cafe at the same time.

“Uh, I don’t know, I don’t really like uh—” Infi starts, but Esper pipes up to shut him up, chuckling.

“I’ll order for you,” he offers, and who is Infi to argue when the menu has five entire pages of coffee specialty bullshit he doesn’t understand a word of. Esper motions the server to lean down and she does so he can whisper something to her and she  nods, scribbling onto her notepad so she doesn’t forget the order. Esper flashes her a jagged grin that makes her recoil, but she goes to the back room to get their… whatever Esper ordered them.

“She seemed nervous,” Infi remarks, staring at the door that she disappeared behind.

“You’re well-known, dont’ you know?”

“But why would she be so nervous? Of me?”

“Rumors fly between people. I bet people heard you took in the dark El, and those who don’t know you don’t know you’re… yeah,” Esper trails off.

“I’m?...”

“Y’know… nice and sweet,” Esper mumbles, looking anywhere but at Infi.

Infi grins. “Aw, you just called me sweet!” her taunts, without any malice.

Esper’s face turns about ten shades more red. It’s really endearing, if Infi does say so himself.

“Shut up,” the time traveler grumbles. He’s positively pouting.

Infi can't get enough of his cute face, especially not now, but alas, his attention is pulled by the server that returns with a tray, carefully setting their order in front of them.

Infi gawks at the cute slice of cake she places before him, alongside a small tea kettle and a porcelain cup. The cake is pink, with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles on top, and what appears to be vanilla cream in the middle. Esper had ordered himself a big black coffee, though Infi knows so little about coffee that it must have a four-word title that would give him a headache to even try and pronounce.

There’s also a cone of pistachio ice cream — that he can name, thank you very much! — complete with a small metallic holder to keep it up.

“Thanks,” he mumbles to the server and at least this time she doesn’t recoil from him.

Esper takes a sip of the coffee, ignoring that its still piping hot. Infi watches him do it with a mi of bewilderment and aversion, pouring himself the tea to cool down like a normal person. It smells amazing, but the only thing he can discern among it is apples.

“What’d you even order us?” he asks, lifting a fork to the cake to try it, “What is it?”

“She calls it a ‘piece of heaven’,” Esper laughs, “but I think it’s just a strawberry cake.”

Esper takes his cone from its little holder and licks a stripe of the green thing, licking his lips at the taste. Infi is dazzled by the bit at the corner of his mouth that he doesn’t get, eyes glued to the smile on those eact lips.

“Want some?” Esper asks, holding the cone out for him.

“Sure!” Infi says, excitement creeping into his voice. Instead of going for the cone, however he leans over and licks the spot off Esper’s lip with no hesitation.

Esper squeaks again, almost dropping the ice cream. His face is on fire when Infi pulls back, flashing a toothy grin. “Tastes great!” he exclaims, “But that might’ve just been you, so…”

Esper punches him in the upper arm with his free hand, hardly enough to hurt. “You’re an idiot.”

“Aww, but you liked it! Don’t even deny it, your cheeks look the same as my hair right now!”

Esper grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t actually deny it.

“I don’t mind cleaning you up when you get it on your face again,” Infi promises.

Esper steals the fork from his fingers with a swift move, grabbing a bit of the whipped cream from the cake. Before Infi can even realize it, he’s smearing it all over Infi’s lips and chin. There’s a shit-eating grin on his lips when sets the fork back down.

“Then I guess it’s only fair if I do the same, hm?”

Infi bursts into a laugh, taken aback by Esper’s quick wit once more. His heart kind of wants to get out of his chest and into Esper’s hands. But it’s already there, he supposes.

“Nothing’s fair in love and food!”

[lombax-lombardi]

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” with the dear Maddi and Brooklyn boy I need that smooching content

gdi Esper. Seems all my friends love the Wheely boi as much as I do asffgjk 

“There was a duel. A now a prize must be given.”

“Eh? What do you mean Mads?”

She only gives him a smile. “Oh come on Joey. You won that duel fair and square.”

He raises his hands in a questioning motion. “Ahh hold on there! What kind of prize?”

She still just smiled at him. “You can choose~ Or if you cant decided I will~”

He backed up slowly. “If you choose Maddi it could be deadly” She furrowed her brow, placing her hands on her hips.

“How dare you I was only going to ask if I could kiss you-” she paused mid-sentence, covering her mouth as if she could swallow her earlier words, which earned a lot of surprised looks from the rest of the gang.

But the most surprised look came from Wheeler himself. “Ehhhhhh wait? You wanna what…?”

Maddi shook her head. “No no no forget about it I didn’t say anything-”

“Yes you did~” came the teasing voice of Tristan, Maddi turned her head to glare at him. “Tristan be quiet! I didn’t say anything!”

The brunette placed a hand under his chin in thought. “Well I am sure I, and the rest of us, heard that you wanted too-”

“TRISTAN” she bellowed, rolling up her long sleeves to knock him on his feet when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Joey?” she turned her head to see this adorable goofy grin on his face.

“Well they’ve liked each other for a long time so I’m surprised that their feelings didn’t show up sooner” Serenity nods, earning a look from Tea. “Wait Serenity how long have you known?”

The other Wheeler gives the group a smile. “Whenever Joey would visit me in the hospital he would talk about all of you.” she gestures to the group. “Maddi in particular. So a long time now….now be quiet I think something is going to happen…” she returned her gaze to the pair, a smile on her face.

Maddi cleared her throat. “So…Joey…” her face was now more red then before as she contemplated how she was going to word this. “Would you mind if I….kissed you? I mean it doesn’t have to be on the lips or anything I-”

What happened next earned a whole gasp from the rest of the gang, Serenity was still standing there with a big smile on her face.

Maddi stood there, frozen in place. Oh good gosh he kissed her! She was going to do that! A few more moments passed, finally she could breathe again. She looked up and saw a pair of glistening brown eyes staring back at her.

“Whoa…I guess action does speak louder then words…”

“Yeah well, sometimes I hate waiting…not that I didn’t mind waiting I mean you’re adorable…” The blonde paused when he noticed Maddi’s face growing more red and her eyes started trickling with tears.

Oh no.

“What? No I’m not adorable!!! You take that back right now Wheeler!”

“Eh? What did I say? Wait you don’t like being called dat? Oh no you’re crying aren’t ya?!”

“WHEELER!!!!” He just didn’t understand that finally, his feelings were returned. 

“These aren’t sad tears they are happy tears!! Now stop freaking out!!”

Well for the most part.

[eri-blogs-life]

So, I finally beat Final Fantasy XII for the first time. And now I shall summarize my thoughts about it, in a nearly 2000 word post.

First off, my history with this game. I bought Dragon Quest 8 when I was a kid, and that game included a demo disk for FFXII which I played a ton. I eventually was able to purchase a copy of FFXII for myself, back on the PS2. It formed part of a trifecta of big JRPGs that kinda defined the middle school era of my life - Final Fantasy XII, Dragon Quest 8, and Tales of Symphonia.

But I never did beat it back in the day. The farthest I remember getting was some big tower in the sea, which I have now in retrospect found out is the penultimate dungeon. So I was damn close when I was a kid, but never quite did finish it up totally.

I came back to it from time to time, starting up new save files and trying to push my way through to see the whole game. But it was only now, on this attempt on the Switch version of the game (the Zodiac Age version of the game) that I have finally seen the ending cutscene. To be fair, there’s a bunch of optional content like most of the espers that I never quite did get around to doing, so it’s arguable if I’ve really fully completed the game, but it’s a long experience, so eventually I settled on just pushing through the final fight so I could consider it done for now. I might come back to my save just before the final dungeon to “complete” the game some day, but not today. (I was using the 2x speed mode for most of the game, and I still have about 55 hours of playtime)

I’m gonna break down my thoughts into a few big sections here. Lets talk story first, then characters, then aesthetics, then gameplay, and then we’ll wrap it up towards the end of this very long post.

FFXII’s story is... fine, I’d say. It feels kinda... erratic at times, throwing you into some situations without really feeling like there’s much justification for that to be a part of the greater story, even if each scenario does have some small way to play into the greater story.

But I can certainly appreciate what the story seems to be inspired by. I can’t really say for certain if FFXII is meant to be a metaphor for the war in the middle east, but damn if it doesn’t feel like that’s the intended goal. The Archadian Empire really does feel like America in a lot of ways, being a “democratic” political system led by a powerful lineage who just always happens to end up in the throne for some reason, having a group of senators who serve as council and support for the emporer, but during the war the emporer claiming full command over the military. It’s not necessarily a perfect comparison, but at least to me the comparisons overall felt strong enough to at least try and interpret the game through a lens of the american war in the middle east. The game features a struggle for power with immensely powerful weapons, there’s these huge oil fields that draw natural resources up out of the ground, there’s a huge nation on the other side of the territory being claimed that could start a war with the Archadian Empire at any point in time.

And to that end it... is decent, I guess. I mean, I’m playing it so far after the events that would theoretically have inspired a lot of the game’s design, so to a large degree I’m also just looking at the game as it stands on its own and not in the cultural context it may have once held. And it’s fine. The story isn’t necessarily anything special, but it’s fine

I could talk about the big theme of the game, which I read as “should humanity be guided by gods or by our own actions?” But... I don’t know, I don’t think there’s a ton to be said about that. The game seems to posit that sometimes even those who claim to be doing things of their own free will are still doing them under the orders of another? But ultimately making your own decisions is still the best course of action, even if it ... you know what, I don’t know. I’d have to replay the game a few times and really try to process everything the game’s narrative takes on to really have a discussion on this point, so we’re gonna leave it aside for now.

So FFXII’s characters, primarily the main cast of 6 playable characters. They’re a real mixed bag, honestly. I enjoyed them, for the most part. But Vaan and Penelo are.... not great. And Ashe and Fran felt kinda bland to me at times. But Basch and Balthier are amazing.

Vaan is kinda an interesting case. He’s just some kid, a street urchin from our central city of Rabanastre, a citizen of the oppressed Dalmasca but ultimately just a guy. He’s our everyman protagonist who the player is meant to have as something of a vessel to learn about the world from someone not very traveled or well-versed in how this world is shaped. And to that end he holds up okay. But even by the end of the game, Vaan doesn’t stand up to do anything particularly unique that would make the player surrogate really something special. He gains some level of strength and stability, and I guess that does put him on a similar level to many of the other characters in the main cast by the end, but he still just feels kinda out of place, even in the end.

Penelo is like Vaan but she’s also used as a damsel in distress early on in the game. Great!

Ashe, the princess of Dalmasca, is the real main character. The story really revolves around her struggle to reclaim her kingdom, her fight for Dalmasca’s freedom from the Empire, and her decision of whether to destroy the weapons that the Empire holds or get her own weapons to rival theirs. She’s a fine character, though at times I did feel she felt kinda bland. But in a sense that actually works out really well, since she ends up as a better player surrogate than Vaan.

Fran holds some important narrative weight, using her knowledge and her unique position as one of the viera to help drive the story along at a few points and that’s great! But I feel like she kinda takes a back seat a lot of the time, mostly playing a supporting role to Balthier

Basch, the knight of Dalmasca and Lady Ashe’s protector feels like such an interesting character. And part of that is not even his fault, but rather the fact that he has a twin brother who fights for the Empire. And that slaps. Seeing the two of them confront each other at times throughout the story, or seeing how their choices differ but how each could have easily become in the other’s position, feels really strong as a narrative drive.

And Balthier. Oh, Balthier. What’s there to say about Balthier? He plays the Leading Man.

I. Love. Balthier. He���s a suave, charismatic son of a bitch and he plays such a good role in the party, providing transportation and guidance and so much more. As we find out late in the game, he’s actually from Archades, being the son of Doctor Cid, but he abandoned his name and his fame to take to the skies as a sky pirate. His constant insistence that he plays the leading man, that he’s the real center of attention in this story, just holds such a special place in my heart. He’s cocky and it’s so great. (Side note, there’s a lot about Balthier that reads to me as an unintentional trans allegory and I just loved head-canoning Balthier and Fran as this T4T trans man / trans woman couple who left their respective homes and found home in each other. It’s almost definitely not their intended purpose but boy howdy I’m gonna think it anyway cause I’m trans and desperate for something like representation)

Aesthetics. Sound and visuals, basically. FFXII is usually a pleasant game to look at and listen to, in my opinion. The soundtrack is gorgeous (and all up on Spotify~), and has been a part of my listening rotation since I first downloaded a copy of it onto my iPod Classic back in 2009.

The graphics are decent. I mean, it was a PS2 game so I guess they were good for the time? The enhanced Zodiac Age version you can pick up on modern consoles cleans up the models and makes things look overall pretty solid. No real complaints there on my part.

The visual design of the game I absolutely adore. You get these fantastic fantasy environments that, while not feeling visually consistent at all times, really tell of a beautiful world that’s something to behold. And every area you encounter - from each city, to the deserts, to the jungles, to the inside of a giant crystal - feels unique and is fascinating to look at.

And then we get to FFXII’s gameplay. FFXII is definitely an interesting one. The game uses an Active Time Battle system, much like most other Final Fantasy games, but the big unique thing in FFXII is Gambits.

Gambits work basically as programming - you can assign an If->Then statement that your character will follow as their default action if you don’t give them specific commands. So, for example, I could define for Vaan that if there is an enemy nearby with the lowest health among enemies nearby, attack that enemy. And for each character, you can assign 12 gambits that they will follow in priority order, and 3 different sets of 12 gambits each that can be swapped out. It gets wild. It’s an interesting choice of system, which allows for some weird gameplay paths. So, I relied heavily on gambits, setting up rules for how my characters should behave in combat, and mostly relied on them to follow those commands whenever possible, without giving any of my own input on-the-fly to how they should act. Which to me felt fun - I was programming out choices and seeing if they would play out successfully in combat. But the gambit system could easily be very boring for some people, since it does limit what you as the player need to actually provide input for on a moment-to-moment basis.

The other big gameplay thing I wanna touch on is the Hunts, which are one of my favorite aspects of FFXII. A huge, HUGE list of optional bosses to track down and kill? Some of which have unique little quests to take on? Sign me up! Ultimately they’re just a list of side quests you can do, but something about the structure of them as these hunts for unique monsters that lie out there somewhere in the world, that you may sometimes have to complete special objectives to even get them to appear in the first place, has always struck me as really fascinating.

( ^ nice)

So, altogether? Final Fantasy XII is... fine. It’s well put together, but it doesn’t necessarily feel like it has anything too special to stand it apart (except of course for Balthier, my beloved). It’s long, but that length doesn’t necessarily feel like it always translates to game segments that are really necessary. I enjoyed my time with it, but only up to a point. I’m not left craving any more. I enjoyed it for the first couple dozen hours in re-playing it, but eventually it got to a point where I was just so so ready to move on to something new.

[uncannycookie]

Um, you take prompts right? If not just ignore me and know I adore your work times a ZILLION! You're probably the reason why I even consider Terumob. Anyway though. The prompt: would it be at all possible to see what happened between Reigen and Teru's mom when they were alone? Or was that just boring paperwork stuff?

Thank you so much! The next chapter of ANLG and I are still at war, but at least I can work on some prompts and pretend to be productive in the meantime^^

EDIT: It’s up on AO3 now as well, so here’s the link.

Devil’s Advocate

As soon as her son and his - friend are out the door, something inside Haruka Hanazawa’s chest instantly relaxes. Her fingernails stop burrowing into the skin of her forearm quite as deeply. Even though there is still a huge, trembling force inside her that makes it impossible to let go entirely, she immediately feels much less as if she’s choking on her own breath.

Just next to the sofa, close enough to the exit towards the hallway to count as blocking the path, Teruki’s lawyer stands with his hands in his pockets, eyes trained on her.

The tall man-child assistant is whipping his head back and forth between them and the door. When he spares a glance out the window, he jumps slightly and appears to begin sweating even more.

“Oh no, don’t,” he mumbles, clumsily rushing to the door, “don’t lean against the car please!” With his hand clutching the door frame, he leans backwards in the middle of his hasty retreat and blinks owlishly at the young lawyer. “Ah, uhm, do you need me here? Are we leaving now, or…?”

The lawyer lazily waves him off without looking at him. “Go ahead and prepare the car, I just have a few things to clarify still.”

His expression is neutral but still judgmental somehow. Haruka didn’t find him intimidating at all at the start, but now it’s suddenly impossible to even meet his cold stare head-on. She focuses instead on the assistant, watches as he scrambles out the door muttering to himself about cars and respect for other people’s belongings.

She laughs quietly into the silence after the door falls shut behind him. “What an interesting fellow. Is he a cousin of yours? Friend of the family?”

Because really, she can’t imagine someone that - slow - finding a job solely based on his own merits.

The lawyer shrugs. “Not at all. Former terrorist actually. Trying to turn his life around, but, you know how it is.”

It’s beyond terrifying that Haruka can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

She laughs anyway, more than a little put out with herself that it comes out jittery and uneven.

The lawyer notices too. One of his lower eyelids twitches. Haruka grinds her teeth into a sweet smile and finally lets go of her own forearm, hands dropping to her sides and relaxing. They’re almost not trembling at all anymore.

“Now,” she starts, glad to realize her voice is mostly back to normal, “unless there was anything else, I believe it is time you left me to clean up this mess.”

The young man still keeps his face an unnerving empty mask, but at least he breaks out of his eerily frozen posture and takes a few steps forward. “I would,” he says while he begins picking up the tray and cookies that were thrown around the room. “If I didn’t know for a fact that you’re focusing on entirely the wrong mess.”

Haruka stands still and watches. He dumps everything back on the coffee table, jangling the shards of glass that are lying there in a small pile. They’re glinting gently in the light of the evening sun and she decidedly looks away.

(The phantom feeling of glass and rough porcelain shards slicing through her skin is crawling up her forearm, right along that jagged collection of thin scars that she covers with make up every morning. Sounds of an angry child’s tantrum are ringing in her ears, she almost sees things being shot around the room again by invisible forces beyond her control.)

(Her arm is itchy. That cookie tray will have to be thrown out.)

The lawyer is no longer pretending to clean up. “You know,” he starts now, still rudely watching her with his arms folded, “I just remembered something. Maybe this will interest you.”

Haruka has to try very hard not to roll her eyes. “What a novel idea,” she says politely.

The lawyer tilts his head forward, his stare unimpressed and nearly disappointed now. “You know you’re not actually being subtle, right.”

“Oh? I am quite certain I was not attempting to be.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “Anyways, there was this one kid at our neighborhood playground back then, she’d always steal everybody’s toys and destroy their sandcastles and all that, nobody liked her much.”

Haruka’s face feels oddly tight, as if her skin doesn’t quite fit over the expression she’s trying so hard to keep. All this is still going somewhere she does not want to be and there is little more than enduring and waiting for it to be over that she can do. “Children can be quite a handful.”

“Oh, definitely. Especially when they do things like, for example, take the plastic shovel that girl broke and hit her right in the face with it. And broken plastic can have some sharp edges. Actually cut that girl’s nose pretty badly.” He gestures at his own nose, wiggling his fingers up along the bridge. “See, I was being a little shit and getting carried away with everybody else’s opinion of her. Not that I meant to slice her face open, mind you, that part actually scared the living daylights out of me. But she was mean and everyone hated her, so of course it was fine for me to hurt her, right?”

She wonders if he is actually trying to intimidate her with this. If he’s maybe not aware that he’s been doing that in substantially more effective ways this entire time and really just ruined a good part of the effect by making her think about him as a little brat on the playground.

Her amused answering chuckle comes a lot easier to her now. “It seems to me that somebody simply failed to teach you a proper understanding of manners.”

And that, somehow, is what makes the man break out into a wide grin. “Funny that you would go ahead and make my point for me.” His hands are up in the air and flailing around suddenly and Haruka instinctively leans back a little, even though they’re not nearly standing close enough for her to get hit.

“I mean, to be honest, the situation alone was already jarring enough to teach me a thing or two, but some serious talks about violence and respect for others with my parents definitely helped as well. Now imagine how differently that could have gone if they had been too afraid to say anything. Too put out by all this unpleasantness to take action and make sure I came away from that whole thing with the correct lesson in mind. I wonder if enforcing the impression that this sort of violent behavior gave me power over others would have led to some screwed up perceptions of myself and my place in life.”

“Dear, I believe you are babbling.”

“Probably.” He snaps his fingers once and stops gesturing quite so frantically. “Here’s the gist of it: Your responsibility as a mother is more important than your moronic fears of things you don’t understand. And that kid becoming the little tyrant I suspect he was is entirely on you.”

Haruka can feel her smile wanting to slip into a grimace, to show her teeth and snarl some choice words on how much of the lawyer’s business any of this actually is.

But there are two angry, unpredictable espers and a mentally challenged former terrorist just outside and nobody nearby who could come to her aid in time.

The smile stays where it is. “You have made your opinion quite clear,” she says, proud of how she manages to keep an even, easy-going tone.

“Glad to hear,” the man says, whipping his hand through the air once again before pointedly holding out his palm towards her. “That’d be seven thousand yen consultation fee, plus one thousand to cover traveling expenses and fifteen thousand legal advisory fee, taxes not included, makes twenty-six thousand four hundred fifty total, cash please.”

And it’s not as if Haruka wasn’t expecting this, but the angry tremble in her fingers as she grabs the money from the sideboard next to her and shoves it at the lawyer is still hard to hide. “Keep the change,” she sing-songs through clenched teeth. “I hope your parents are very proud of the kind of person you have become.”

“They’re working on it,” he says, stuffing the money straight into his pocket and pointing rudely at her. “Which is much more than anyone could say about you.”

With the last of her cash crumpled up inside his pocket, the lawyer turns away and swiftly leaves her apartment.

It’s the overwhelming relief at his departure that clears Haruka’s thoughts.

Just enough for her to finally notice that he never showed her a business card or any other form of identification.

The dawning realization that he was most likely not a real lawyer is cold and furious. She closes her eyes, leans her head back with a deep breath.

“Fuck,” she says softly to the ceiling.

The smile is gone. It left an ache in her lips.

[4ourleafclover]

According to AO3 today is international fan works day, so shamelessly plugging my ao3 and giving a couple of shoutouts to some awesome ZE fics I love! Putting mine under the cut, the recs are the ones above the cut

Just assume all of them have spoilers, because they all do.

The SHIFT of the magi- A super sweet christmas drabble featuring C-team and esper shenanigans, it’s honestly just so cute i love it.

April 13th, 2029- A chilling Carlos/Junpei, following C-1 end of ZTD. I adore this one so much, so good.

The Firetruck Trilogy- I’m cheating by recommending an entire trilogy here, but oh my god guys. This honestly affected a ton of my headcanons for ztd, it’s such a solid bit of fic writing. Major spoilers for the games though, so watch out!

The Moment Before Zero- Like Sigpei? Like canon-compliant fics? Then oh my god, check this one out. It made me like sigpei, it’s so good.

What we make of it/MK-end: 1- An alternate ending to ZTD, which honestly has also affected a fair deal of my headcanons. Wonderfully written, and it also has some very cute Maria, who’s definitely an underappreciated character.

Craigslist- Junpei puts up a craigstlist ad to have a threesome on a dare from Sigma, meets two hot singles in his area (it’s not actually pornographic, just stupid fluff)

Texts from Last Escape- texts from last night+zero escape. It’s as insanely stupid as you’d imagine.

One Ameowzing Day- Childhood friends Sigma/Diana fluff, featuring Sigma Klim, Canon furry.