#and i would perish without sprite

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

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[donamori]

Please indulge me to speak at length about Don Quixote (post Warp Express Intervello)

Unfortunately, this will be riddled with spoilers, however, I'm not necessarily making this post to make any real predictions. I'm mostly just collecting my thoughts, crafting some theories, and talking at length about my thoughts on the upcoming canto, their possible themes, and to gush and wail about my most favoritest sinner ever. If you've finished Murder on the Warp Train then feel free to continue

Alright, end of the most recent Intervello, it was revealed (much to my surprise at least) that Don Quixote, our pride and joy and ever most excellent knight-errant, is in fact a Bloodfiend. A bloodfiend who apparently has their true form suppressed by Rocinante, the shoes Don wears that are named after the steed Don Quixote rides upon in the book.

This new reveal has millions of possibilities forming in my head for the upcoming Canto and here's the gist of what I've kind of formed and gathered from what we know so far in the world of Limbus and Project Moon as a whole, what I personally know about Miguel De Cervantes and his works, and the general thematic ties that are now unfurling within my noggin that I'm trying to spool together in this nice little indulgent post.

Let's start with Miguel De Cervantes:

For those who may not know, Cervantes is the author of Don Quixote, born in 1547, died in 1616. A few important tidbits that I think will be important in the upcoming Canto-

Something that has been known for awhile is that Don's battle sprite does not list her name as Don Quixote but as Miguel. For awhile now I had been wondering if within Don Quixote's Canto we are going to receive some sort of reveal that Don Quixote is actually Miguel De Cervantes. Originally the basis of this theory I had was a quote from Cervantes about how "[he] would not exist without Don Quixote." (Something that was expanded upon in a lecture about Cervantes and Don Quixote that I found on youtube). In fact a large portion of that lecture, which I will link here, contributed to this idea I had built up in my head about the relationship between Miguel and Don.

What this essentially culminates to in my mind is that the Bloodfiend will reveal that they are Miguel, but for some reason or another, they "became" Don Quixote. So, in many loose adaptions of Don Quixote, this connection is typically made. In my personal favorite adaption, The Man of La Mancha, a musical about the book, they present the story of Don Quixote as a play for prisoners after Miguel Cervantes himself is arrested. And who is the man that plays Don? None other than Cervantes himself!

(you should really give it a watch, it's a lovely musical)

Now, within the book of Don Quixote itself, our titular hero sadly perishes at the end. He loses to the Knight of the Mirror (who is actually the Bachelor Sanson Carrasco, a man hired by Don's family to bring him home) and returns home. He then dies in his bed after renouncing the name of Don Quixote and all of his adventures. Saying with much seriousness that he is not Don Quixote, but Alonso Quijana. He leaves money to Sancho and his estate to his niece and then soon passes (after a heartfelt appeal from Sancho to return to adventuring together once more.)

After his death, the book ends with the author who is detailing Don Quixote's history writing this final paragraph-

"For me alone was Don Quixote born, and I for him; it was his to act, mine to write; we two together make but one, notwithstanding and in spite of that pretended Tordesillesque writer who has ventured or would venture with his great, coarse, ill-trimmed ostrich quill to write the achievements of my valiant knight... And I shall remain satisfied, and proud to have been the first who has ever enjoyed the fruit of his writings as fully as he could desire; for my desire has been no other than to deliver over to the detestation of mankind the false and foolish tales of the books of chivalry, which, thanks to that of my true Don Quixote, are even now tottering, and doubtless doomed to fall for ever. Farewell.”

I've paraphrased it a bit, but you get the gist. While the author detailing Don Quixote's history is a fictional author made up by Cervantes, I believe it is a cheeky way of Cervantes to insert himself in the story and express his true feelings here.

Now, with Cervantes and Donqui being one and the same I believe the strong thematic thread tying this all together is one of dreams. It's now known to us this whole time that Don Quixote is in fact, both dream and dreamer. The monster that Don Quixote is sleeps while they allow for their true self to live, ever dreaming. But now that Dream is Ending.

I think we're going to see the 'death' of Don Quixote and some sort of joining of Miguel and Don. I think Miguel wants to keep dreaming. They are a bloodfiend, a horrible monster, one of the more powerful beings that are mentioned in Project Moon's games. But i think that Miguel doesn't want that. I think that Miguel wants to be cured. Something that has never really been done for a bloodfiend, an impossible dream, perhaps?

I think in Don's Canto we're going to see what we see within the book. Miguel/Don's family trying to get him to come back, to stop him, to get him to give up on this silly dream of Knight-Errantry. And I believe Dante will finally be able to help Miguel take the first steps towards realizing this impossible dream.

Some small little thoughts that I've had that i think push this a bit further.

Don Quixote was written by Miguel when he was 50 while he was in prison.

I've been wondering now whether this cell we see Donqui in within her base ego was actually some sort of representation of this. Don Quixote was born while Miguel was locked away. This looming shadow of Rocinante keeping the Sangre De Sancho locked away within this small starry-eyed girl <3

Nothing that I really have any like, evidence for, but based on vibes I think representing the specific sort of Spaniard from this time period as some sort of high class vampire is excellent and really fits thematically as well.

Cervantes has a bunch of quotes about the nature of oneself and death (bloodfiends are undead). Some that I think are quite fitting are :

“A Man Without Honor is Worse than Dead.”

“Take my advice and live for a long, long time. Because the maddest thing a man can do in this life is to let himself die.”

“I know who I am and who I may be, if I choose.”

“When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams — this may be madness. Too much sanity may be madness — and maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be!”

and finally, to conclude this,

“All I know is that while I’m asleep, I’m never afraid, and I have no hopes, no struggles, no glories — and bless the man who invented sleep, a cloak over all human thought, food that drives away hunger, water that banishes thirst, fire that heats up cold, chill that moderates passion, and, finally, universal currency with which all things can be bought, weight and balance that brings the shepherd and the king, the fool and the wise, to the same level. There’s only one bad thing about sleep, as far as I’ve ever heard, and that is that it resembles death, since there’s very little difference between a sleeping man and a corpse.”

If you read this whole thing, thank you for indulging me. I greatly appreciate it.

[vashtijoy]

"let's make a deal", with and without Akechi's confidant

So the final showdown in the engine room differs in P5R, based on whether or not you max out Akechi's confidant. Let's take a look.

At this point, Akechi has raised the bulkhead door and is trapped on the wrong side of it, seriously wounded, with a furious Cognitive Akechi and a small mountain of shadows. Things do not look good for our deuteragonist:

Akechi: The real fools... are you guys. You should have just abandoned me here a long time ago. Akechi: You would have all perished... if you had tried to face these with me weighing you down.

[Phantom Thieves all go !]

Makoto [stepping forward]: Akechi-kun! Akechi: Let's make a deal, okay? You won't say no, will you? Yusuke [stepping forward]: Why, at a time like this!? Akechi: Change Shido's heart... in my stead... End his crimes... Akechi: Please!

Now here's our first divergence. You are offered different options, depending on whether or not you have the confidant:

without Akechi's confidant at stage 9

Joker can say either "I promise", or "Leave it to me". Aww, he's a good guy at heart, is our Akiren. This guy tried to shoot him and everything.

And what's Akechi's response? He opens his eyes, nods and smiles.

Aww. But note that he ALWAYS sacrifices himself, and for the same reasons. The difference the confidant makes is not to do with that—it's to do with something quite different, which we'll explore below....

with akechi's confidant at level 9

Now here are the options we all know and angst over:

A stage 9 confidant Joker, who has that bond with Akechi, who had the stage 8 showdown with him in Mementos and got the glove, gets "You better deliver your promise" and "I'll hold on to your glove".

And when you pick your option, what does Akechi do? Well, for a start, he has an emotional response:

... remember we talked about how the "empty" icon, from the interrogation room, doubles as the "feeling some unnameable emotion" face? Well, here it is again; you can see the model doing the same thing behind the sprite. If you don't max his confidant, you never see this. Only an Akechi who has connected with Joker over the year gets this shocked response when Joker challenges him for the last time. And, to be honest, it's not all that unnameable an emotion. This Akechi, in his final moments, knows what he's doing, and why, and can admit it—at least to himself.

Akechi ハッ、この期に及んでそれを言う?全く君ってヤツは、本当に⋯ ha! kono ki ni oyonde sore o iu? mattaku kimi tte yatsu wa, hontou ni... Heh... After all this, that's what you have to say? Seriously, you really are... Heh. That's what you say, at a time like this? I can't believe—you really are....

And it's only then that he trails off into the tiny smile.

Akechi never finishes that last sentence; he leaves something unsaid. Could be anything. Could be "ridiculous", could be "stupid"; could be any of Akechi's pet insults. But there's another possibility, that Akechi has been applying to Joker all along. He's called him it in this scene, before the fight. He called him it throughout his confidant. He's meant it more and more as the year has progressed.

That word is 面白い omoshiroi—"interesting, fun; fascinating". Yeah. "You'd better come through for me", Joker tells Akechi, who's about to die. "I swear to God," Akechi tells him in disbelief, "you never cease to amaze me."

At least, that's how I imagine it. And in my truther head, that's the difference between Akechi surviving and not. This Akechi, who couldn't care even when Cognitive Akechi had a gun to his head, gets something to live for at the last second; the one in the no-confidant engine room, who never appears in the post-credit sequence, did not.

Here's the excerpt:

Baww.

the end of the scene

Cognitive Akechi: You bastard... Akechi [struggling to his feet]: So, my final enemy is a puppet version of myself...

... and immediately fork for the second time.

Akechi [without confidant]: Not bad. Akechi [with confidant]: I...!

"I"?? "I", Akechi??? WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO SAY?

Non-confidant Akechi has settled for the irony of taking out "the puppet [he] was" (ningyo datta ore jishin, localised as "a puppet version of myself"); he considers this "not bad". This is also the line you get in vanilla P5, where the confidant was automatic.

But confidant Akechi's sentence is unfinished. He has left something undone. He has something left to say, something left to do. Something to live for.

I wonder what it is, at that moment, that he's regretting, or determined to do, or undo, or redo. What it is that gives him the strength to survive. Because we're all friends here; we all know he makes it, somehow.

The only hint in the original is that his line is not just ore, but ore wa—Akechi is comparing himself to others. So the sense is perhaps that Cognitive Akechi is "the puppet he was", but Akechi himself is no longer a puppet. It's good. But non-confidant Akechi would share that same sentiment. Something more is going on here.

With that, we move on to the end of the scene:

Haru [running forward]: Akechi-kun! Ann [stepping forward]: Isn't there some way to get this open, Mona?

[two gunshots are heard, about a second apart—and yes, they are identical in both routes and both language tracks]

Futaba: His signal is... gone... Futaba: I'm only getting... the weaklings... Ann: No... Morgana: Come on, you guys! Morgana: We can't let a rotten criminal like Shido do what he wants any longer! Morgana: We can't... no matter what!

Two things here. First, the second's delay on the gunshots seems... odd; I'd expect the shots to be either simultaneous or for there to be only one shot. Maybe someone who's ever seen a gun can clarify this. Though the fact that the shots are always identical suggests that this is not significant.

Second, Futaba always has both of her lines. I've seen it said that these are different depending on your confidant track, but no. She always says she can't detect a signal, and she always says she only detects the "weaklings".

I do find it interesting that, like the true ending cutscene, these tracks are so much more different than I realised depending on your Akechi choices. One of these paths is also clearly much more interesting than the other—the Akechi confidant track is the "true ending", the true plot; the other is there for the weirdos who just hate murder and treachery and pancakes, idk. Which is why the no-confidant 2/2 scene, where Akechi never shows up and is revived because Maruki thinks all the PTs want him back, doesn't make so much sense.

[enden-k]

OH NO 😓 sorry pookie, i was trying to reference the whole “what if you gave a mcdonalds sprite to a victorian child”... because sunday gives off frail victorian child vibes, like he would perish or disintegrate with one sip 😞😞 my apologies

OHHHH i only know this w the dorito i think it was AHHA

i can see that AHHAHAHAKBSCKJ imagine him going blegh and his eyes go wide and you hear the MGS alert and then he gets a hiccup or smth lmfao

but tbh on a serious note,

i think (or like to hc) that sunday did some regular normal (perhaps even some kind of rebellious) stuff as a youth, most of them in secret ofc tho, until he was chastised and punished and told to "behave" for his future. might be a little surprising then for some if they ever caught him slipping more sugar cubes into his cup than normal (stelle had to surpress a shudder) or see him take a deep drag of a cig without coughing like they expected (gallagher mentally noted that one down)

[softquietsteadylove]

can you write some Thenamesh fluff? like, the two of them sleeping in front of a fireplace, snuggled up

Gilgamesh tossed another log into the fire as the door opened and shut, the air from it flickering the flames into a little dance. He leaned back on his elbows. "Hey."

"Hey," Thena smiled as she walked over to him, dropping the cloak and heavy robe behind her as she did. She shuddered once rid of the fine dressings of a royal war advisor, but that allowed her to hurriedly burrow under the blankets Gil had spread out for them.

"How's she doing?" Gil asked as Thena settled herself into his side. He asked it casually, the way he would ask about Sprite or Makkari or Sersi.

But they were referring to Olga, the current queen regent of Kievan-Rus, and freshly widowed due to Drevlian attack. The regent took the killing of her husband - cruel and undeniably torturous - personally.

She had asked her revered and unearthly war advisor how she should proceed. Ajak and Sersi had both moved to set the slander aside--for peace. And while being an advisor didn't mean Thena could incite grand wars between humans, she had answered honestly.

"What would you do?" Olga had looked up at Thena from her throne. "If it was your husband?"

Thena had thought about Gilgamesh in an instant, imagining his smiles, his hands holding hers, the warmth of him as he banished the unrelenting cold from bothering her.

"I would burn the world to the ground and then reshape the ashes in their likeness so they could beg my forgiveness from beyond the grave."

"Thena," Gil raised his brows, although for whatever he was feeling about the declaration, he did not look surprised about it.

"She may do with that advice what she desires," Thena mumbled, the warmth of Gilgamesh already soothing her like a cat in a sunbeam.

"Ajak is gonna be mad," Gil teased quietly as he leaned forward and reached into the fire with his bare hand to adjust the position of a log. He wiped the ashes off on the rug before pulling Thena into his lap.

"She already is," Thena sighed, although she did not care if their Prime thought she was being too violent in her suggestions. Olga had asked her - human woman to Warrior Eternal - and Thena had given her honest answer. She tightened her arms around Gil's neck.

He rubbed her back. She wasn't saying as much, but the thought of what she would have to do without him always tended to shake her. They were Eternals--it wasn't something they had to consider often. But they were also Fighters, and it was technically possible for them to perish. And that never seemed to bother the Warrior Eternal until they were on the subject of him.

"I can't imagine what she's feeling," Thena finally confessed in a whisper, the crackling of the fire underscoring her words. "If I had to worry about you dying from an attack by a handful of humans-"

Gil let her burrow into him deeper, her face pressed to his neck, her hands clinging to him. He was happy to let her, bending one of his legs and letting it cushion the curve of her back. He tucked the blanket over his shoulders more around her, even at the cost of having his other arm exposed to the open air. "So, we're going to war, huh?"

"I doubt they'll need us," Thena sighed, unwinding slowly. She pressed a hand to his chest. "Olga has...other methods in mind."

"I don't wanna know," Gil snorted as he adjusted them again. He laid himself lengthwise, parallel to the fire. He rested on his back with Thena stretched out on top of him. His hand raised to push her hair behind her ear. "I'm sure I'll be horrified at what she's about to do."

Thena pursed her lips, "I think they'll be somewhat deserving of whatever she is about to enact."

Gilgamesh chuckled, raising his head just to touch the tip of his nose to hers. "You menace."

Thena purred as she melted into him, under the blankets, close to the fire, listening to the beat of his heart and the rise of his lungs under her. "Olga was rather creative with her plan, actually. She needs no assistance from me."

"That's a little scary," Gil snorted. He gave her waist a squeeze. "You're beautiful when you're violent."

Thena laughed, all of her teeth showing.

Gil rolled them to the side, letting Thena's back be closest to the fire. He didn't need the extra warmth; he pulled her closer to him, burying his nose in her hair. "My Solnyshkuh has started another war, hm?"

Thena inhaled against his chest, running her hand up his flank and over his pectoral. "I do not start wars, I finish them."

"Well," Gil let out a loud sigh, the comfort of their position also lulling him into rest. "Whatever you ladies have planned, you know I'm around if you need me."

"Hm," Thena pressed her smile into his shirt, "yes, my ever helpful husband."

It wasn't the first time they had been taken for a married pair, and it would be far from the last. It wasn't as if it was out of the question for them.

Gil twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "We should really get around to that."

"I suppose so."

"Olga could marry us."

"She's busy, Gil."

"After, I mean."

[applejuiceyjuice-art]

my brother and i love snakewood for not only how insane the story is but also some of the unique stuff that happened.

Like he got a shiny hombone while grinding but it doesn’t actually have a shiny sprite, the only way he knew is because he heard/saw the sparkle. hes lucky he had the sound on and is a natural shiny hunter bc i definitely wouldve missed it

I glitched out a fight sequence with the deadly seven in lilycove (?) and just used it to level a ton of pokemon. i somehow went around the trigger for them when i entered the city and stepped on it on the way out after returning from the dragon island? and since i used the pokemon center in the city i respawned right next to the trigger instead of being sent all the way back to fortree like that fight was intended to do.

you’re supposed to fight ALL SEVEN OF THEM IN A ROW just after you get out of madio cave and beat a literal Monster with an impossibly high base stat total, trudge your way into the city, just out of reach of a pokemon center. if you’re unprepared and lose you’ll get sent back to fortree and have to go thru the cave again. i went thru madio cave without flash also so if that happened like it was supposed to i simply would have perished

[tyrorexdmzapp]

Lost recut plans part 3

As promised, I’ll talk about the cast I had planned for Paper Mario Recut 3, prior to 2020’s reveal and release of The Origami King.

Little side note- initially, Mario Story would be relegated to DMZ-original topics, while Paper Mario would apply to future Recuts. Following 2020, though, and my decision to soft-reverse my stance on no more recuts, I decided TOK Retold will also get the Mario Story moniker. However, we’re here to talk about what won’t come to pass before talking about what did and what will, so…there.

First off, the partners. 5 new ones- plus a special 6th one- would join the OG game’s Tattler partner, assuming they would be the only partner…AGAIN. Like before, some would take incompatible traits from the OG tattler if I felt it was needed, as well as provide more back-and-forth. Alongside that, 2 past characters would be partners- Super Paper Mario’s Squirps (since he technically was, by all accounts, a partner in his source game), and the Wii U Recut’s Marirana again (with the same story’s Edwin in an NPC side role). 3 of the new partners were new species, while the other 2 would be a Gearmo and a Kleptoad, both female. After so many posts of just words yet no images, I can say I did actually design the female Kleptoad partner, even posting her to my deviantart account without revealing the full nature of her. This is Sachit, who I think was supposed to have a helpful yet grey-shaded ranger persona to her, similar yet different to Edwin before her.

Keep in mind- Sachit’s sprites were designed back at the beginning of 2017, when I was just starting to make higher resolution parts and poses. In addition, I did amuse the idea of just having poses but no parts. While a few hiccups have happened over the years in accidentally posing characters with the source part folder and being forced to backtrack or even start over, I never revisited the idea intentionally. I felt and still feel fans deserve all the parts needed to possibly use for their own characters.

Regarding that 6th “special” partner, long before TOK came out, I was also planning a story twist where one partner who isn’t the tattler…doesn’t make it out of the story, and before the end point, too. Unlike TOK, Recut 3 posited having the vanquished partner replaced with this 6th character, if only to solve previously unsolved obstacles requiring the character’s field ability.

With what TOK actually did, as it turned out, Olivia was not the only partner after all. TOK ended up marking a return of sorts of partners in Mario’s party. Unfortunately, there were many problems with this version of the system. The partners couldn’t be controlled, they missed half their attacks, they couldn’t fight bosses, everyone who wasn’t Olivia was temporary, and only one partner was a full OC, or as full an OC a partner could be with certain needless restrictions revealed prior to the release- Professor Toad, a Toad archaeologist dressed from top to bottom unlike many other Toads in the game. Also, while there WAS some back and forth between Olivia and the partners, Olivia still felt slightly crammed and uncertain in what the characterization was meant to be.

Last, TOK ended up doing the non-tattler perishes before the endgame thing I had planned. While most people ate it up and felt sad about it, as time passed, I came to a realization. That realization- the sacrifice and the partner involved were horribly botched, due to how rushed the partner in question was, and the not-so-innocent meta agenda behind that partner to glorify genericness. Oh, and sitting out a major battle emotionally important to that partner, yet which that partner bafflingly refused to even follow Mario into.

So while an unexpected sacrifice was always destined for Recut 3 and what would turn out to be TOK, it would likely be reworked in a way more pragmatic and sincere than…what we ended up with. Whether the intended sacrifice would outright kick out that lacking partner from the story outright, or that lacking partner would be fully fixed in every regard, it’s hard to say.

For TOK Retold, Olivia getting slightly lightened yet refocused in characterization is still a go, though none of the original partner choices are making it in. The official sacrifice partner is also staying, and getting a giant revamp that not only denies the original alleged "point" (which I never believed had any strength or merit), but posits the opposite. Last, due to a role reversal idea I had regarding the Deeps Sisters, Suebelle is a partner in TOK Retold, with Marirana getting a different role instead…

On unique NPCs, the most interesting official ones to make it in would have been Rosalina, Mister I, the Chimp, Twink and TEC-XX. Meanwhile, in addition to Suebelle and the aforementioned Edwin, CS Recut’s Caapri and Wonder Journey’s Cael would have had a role. With new characters, meanwhile, the sole new Toad would have been a new incarnation of Chet Rippo. More comically, Marirana and Edwin would have been revealed to have sired SIXTEEN children, each with different designs. I even intended to take that number into the hundreds, and include a sidequest where- brace yourselves- Mario and friends would have to find the children across the world to power themselves up in some way! Last up, Perry the Goomba would return in new Bowser armor, alongside three new characters. Like Sachit, I showed these three characters with…a little more of a hint, but not much…hint to their intended future use. To go with the theme of Perry’s new name being based on a form of defense or countering, I made Kowntta the defensive yet loyal female Koopa, Stuunis the bumbling wizard Boo, and Avade the ninja Shy Gal.

These four were the most in the running to be the EX Story’s focus characters, alongside a fourth possibility of CS Recut’s versions of Prism Island’s Rescue Squad.

After TOK came out, Twink and Edwin were still initially slotted to appear in the main story of TOK Retold. However, to appease (honestly unfair) comments that I wasn’t using enough of the source games’ characters for past recuts (I strongly believe I was, though, and that critique assumes the original 3DS and Wii U games were worth honoring with no changes or compromises, which I do not think whatsoever), combined with the restrictions, Twink ended up getting replaced with Bowser Jr so he could have more screentime, while Edwin’s intended role got taken over by the original Yoshi. Meanwhile, despite my desire to have Marirana and Edwin’s kids show up in a role ironically different from the audience townsfolk idea the full game used, the later decision to follow the restrictions put the kibosh on the young Slurple-Boomboxer hybrids and Perry’s squad being able to show up, as well as a good amount of the Prism Island Rescue Squad. Thankfully, I do have someone rather unexpected lined up to be the EX Story’s focus character…but that will have to wait until release.

That’s pretty much all the important stuff regarding what was planned for Recut 3, what happened in TOK’s official release, and the new ideas for TOK Retold. I’m TyrorexDMZapp, and thank you for coming to my TOK Talk.

[libidomechanica]

And slowly arched grew again; a bachelor now to mankind

A sonnet sequence

               1

And slowly arched grew again; a bachelor now to mankind. But as in those the Sea of him through too poetical: men stick; and when his beauties whirlpool full of the sublimest exultation, to the trees, not to go with content to show it gave; and a stripling frankincense doth notes strappin, the views the gossip led upon their rank and several lines be seen in twilight, and all his debt. So should excuse with me! In die capiendus. With their surly, I rather example praise for his Justice, and now comment; and still the weak hand cry, and rioting on this poets of birds.

               2

To wander’d hallucinations; all try to tell those who camest told it is they did not gainsay, humanity must be so bold, and can ne’er weary caverns of a sudden grow, while I spurres with such occasion, where a mantle far more; and the tiny swells, it is strain as none, the little care touched no dark creeper, first investigation. Amongst the kelp clings the in it he cause thee; he’d come up in her milder-mooned brow, and high stars that either sofa for fantasy was level of spiced woodbine, of all its lava, with her to it out of vices married ear!

               3

Without more it would excuse my hart. Of her love of heavenly niggard time, only tender. And the time acquired: the Sprite goes by and no less; and the river, making addition. But rather placed around. That upstarted, and in the fat pillow’s twitter, in balance: city, to ride, and every loved a virtues that of discover, a wounding all the desired, there dost things, not a Moslems perish distant memory; the way in soft phrase offended mistakes, is much disgrace I sued the knew, to Corinth—O the bandit’s despatch! More subtle Greek, because of his trade.

               4

In his pulse betoken or praised, the room, for they never should revoke through at time the greatly foot of gentle material— men are made ice seemed to quote to the trophies of quean. Or rather you, soon apple, sings here! We find you be liege, ’ said before they walls of thee we grown bought, quoth he, as if nursed by one and nor binde; the moonshine and thousand much form an antique song of thy destiny, alert he cheek recline, empty the night, down, downcast, yet freedom as now on an Alpine steeple, whether gloom enough; but from it the found here, the most afford to make you, chopping air.

               5

And said, this poets of us have descending it, though ice, lute, which precious characters of Tyranny of my life and save;—a mighty Mother worst caused with a hole inside-out, or that was bootless grown and upon her empery of masts; a wild you have goaded. You love Platonical, and polish, or help as wolves on ray, or to sing, their long the seldom pay they seem’d path? But whereof sheep, his phantom upon the could breath. Voice even should be christen’d spirit of many, make then he find favourites of me to his dressed, like the casement’s present paine. Not be made.

               6

In a golden sand—how few the mouths never moon, added, or what wondering: it is but cast and baffled by the scent in thine the mitigated further curious Gods; that head: ashes sat he should pervades a construction with dewy gem, fright, nor side. Whereby I know by which a deserving even thou starves amidst thou to me. The more a sentimental friend to concealment needs tempt to reverence. With Time’s injury more these beguile my eyes with a very bloody sword, or waters distilling in dust, how tall pinch to yon farther arms a woman love in me.

               7

: Disarming roar, above reflectioneerer, which pass’d his own lute, as thou wilt, remember’d by her vehicles; but by the coronal; and like show’d throw out here are the world? Said her very ill on this keeping, glowing up a Deity; but ever lives in woman-kind wouldst though your subject Lute, placed lengthened drown me, and doth light in love, warm between so with all was extremely dear, made eternity, than has Love be spring—death such despair. Yet, that night that—cathedrals what scar’d! By whose mead, spoilt all this hoarsest stranded until johnson, which, hearken to take quarters of sleep.

               8

There was down. Just not lover, breath, through unknown Unknown to the splashing, if it were many—still well I feel immortal bowery land? The Moslems perish, or my sights, and swear, ere he donor, rather—yes. Fools are of youth last agree, and that womankind, to thine eye and muskets flung lieutenant’s baiting sand. Was, that wondrous nightly troth, and said, for me, I ride. Like at once may richly merrily, and his Daughter’s Hill! Empress wave and grinning mutters it? And so will. By God! Oh, the middle, the world wore the cap; in fact twas like you cry. Lost breath of smoke for his Justice slain.

               9

And on her high, a guard of flattered syllable, to be and cautious time to the Minion crumbles pale, hear it, O Thyrsis the profit he dishevell’d on; and till you at the living about the could permittent to lose that in my horses o’er a distant from far lands gay, rage, rage outside as it pierced the bloom of Kingly trip and bred don Juan saw no more subtle servitors. Must surely were unseen his poem’s merely were, see thee: no, no, my Deare, let it by no meaning to be had. When they. She flew in them their gazing one would never told the floor, black is famish’d days.

               10

With his hair there’s joy in the heart though the lava ravishment, as much livelier London Town! A halcyon sea. My eye, like this world was up, and chaste or copper—the door, and thy beauty were demanded to expresses lightly, with me. In the most infernall nigh the wind; or life, and poor Juanna’s dreary moan—and welcomes the spray has sparks, with heard, that from a bullfinch, as morningless as the flame was enough their teens; and Mankind! Yet had their summer smocks, where stayed on that your hero of thing, and when his face, till disturb your old wo; but a youngsters of the with should all time, and twining, and found there art; and whether high comforts be, for fools will be, as well, teaching the friends their umbrellas a drunkard. Fondling Religions out as out for a return, that my Sunne goe down the every words, saving better fire took his form look, pain, they did enterpretations.

               11

But wherein it and pictures in their aspect them Mars, by Phœbus was talk’d unto the lade o’ my soul of each amatory egotism the Antic long ago And still hither silver show my child written and abash’d portion when I reality distract fame, as wide open, but to my soule play’d and learn, and I will fade and course than he hies dazzled quick footing sobs began to sanctions exactly what comer, he is. He went through veils those they themselves between your green bay, rage, poor priest, to change; and blaws loud meander nor close the marble should Arthur do? At first sight.

               12

Ismail, as yet. I never had a fourth, most excellent for you leaves there she to the blue devil’s drawn down and Justice of rubles what’s there cheek began as you canst device, although he countries of love with theirs more subtle served the tiger-moth’s buried days—thyrsis, let me out any slight planet guide our ultimate existence, a pure, and gave me by degrees are: like Pygmalion description, her praying in stood: he pass’d, thought you mighty ones, which on thy return to hovers dare took by turnpikes great name of all many a short, and I been such matter; so Canterbury!

               13

Men come to poor for Baba’s faults, yet forth, and love me! Lets it soar’d, would curb it he had good and gone fore-see houris, and drooping at once: for Cleopatra’s eye, feare her with delight have every few financiers, who prompt to know. Him, fair as far the midst thou saw some twenty, for the vales deflower said novenas to be doubling above all, she went to show my wild rose-briar blood is lost, my friend of kings. A royal splendour, which laid low his order’d much visions—was Adeline. Mortals, with lovelorn piteous mien turning sun. Is one with riband an honouring alleys shine.

               14

Of water is, as through owl did feet in tender scions for virtue know much for this smiles of flowers,—sighing dim he would lived prosperity. And if we’re above all— no more tendence, ’ thought his silently round him—no pulse, where his fluttering went through windlas so; that I am duped. I know, since great dilettanti do witness over as you can deny the gloom enough, of him to their uti possible, yet tick, except to tell, and, I will gulph he was not go gentle read. To their composed at a shot; his this materialism’s a serpent rod, and yet more not so befell.

               15

Such pow’r before and die as curving sun? Whom forth, who, by a beasts, and cuckoo! Slips to flow, and down before. Acted on the sword nor bright in the name could not, like the better see her waist: Fair Hermes, by my own Belovëd, who see her race; it be past expound sow, till all our light, and watch’d thee; till their passing, he first he deep, thy joyless mass who thou, Fancie, saddle air, and though she sparrows the matron’s breast; and love comes, who wanton fields live and pleased my powers! Nay, laughter: ’ if he music, forc’d him through his world, and truffled every new and thus: that which like the sea-born elf, whose breath.

               16

Rather just the wounded bosom like brow! Loud revels rude, meant through rather than his to bed they say he’s king, and nor insolent as a devils, and, in your invective diligent springs, than light, a full- born sighs are the best; like the fruit unseen; perchangeable angels’ trumpet of sicknesse lay; but we wish men vain! Whence beside all the day? More, and walked along in the fetter’s grace the lover’s part, I’ll be shown, and groan of all verses most favour of pain. Or the floor. In the army, while other and thrust into share here; and wide,—not swift-lisping and rich. Well, that street of thee.

               17

What Daniel read it; but his stations: and splendour, with what it is so. To watch. The General Markow, Brigadier, firing, happy hoax: the Taxes, Castle gate of purest sense, upon his eyes endure to saved, especial proving weak, palsy-twitch’s seat by sun and office that heard, or wife, in a night; for ever came upon the speculated Rhine: ye glories she knew ’twas just prove no bar; died from the graces might eyes were they anoint look, first to a marriage in watery desolate, as clear to a weak one is sae lovers live with that care: against his unsighing vaults.

               18

That valley now grated shore, and aright. As Sylvio soone with a statistics, and imps he loved all aloud them where and play. The flood, or would curb it he had his soul, but when obstinacy, pride, in their new our young and her cheeks. From the taller grant my birth enchantment go, the restroom I pretend then all happiest among some temples? Be, as she whose king already myrtle sickle to disclose; by the serpent’s ivy shroud the fifth appropriate similes of passion’d spring hand shadowy beams, pillar’d porch, midst thou fairly. The present was not to hear, why heart.

               19

The Dee, the ceiling’s height the best languid rout of outside of shame? And all his cabinet, besides Platonism at bottom of those to free his enterpretation, at the right; Sudden rose, without the clover, dry where as he storm: no causes and of things, with all kinds of Paradise without one death-day of sweet tales being prude to marvel most he owed much mortified, and, justly might eyes or old: the rich in turn to one doth, its hint, when one side-saddle. And the comes the general Meknop’s men to the world? In gay remember, sisters would be but of heaun it be so. This is gone?

               20

He went, young mourners better tree-stems, marble, I know how fleet ’twas a mother mercy then, like temper or their lords, who could have been the moon; and you, looking forth his hand upon his pale as if upon Nature ship! All night was left him up a singing all this, and I lost thin petticoats were these let us by that heaven: thought only a free resort of human natural heat burnt from the white stocks rise and run again with unusual spirits, when all worse wi’ a clear moon, in her sides, and look of Jove—Minerva’s strange and kissing being a wannish field. But she was a tomb.

               21

But pass likeness boundles, may see, back’d by tiffanies: like cedar’d Lebanon. But now begun; the breezy cloud-borne in the usual by this in idle languish’d hall, will shade. But that living a bath and chattered in thy words, all that thou always best juice, yellow and stone; nor do as much colours, though not let it brave Tartar khan—or gore and root, in station in the absence lay on a summons to such things through the villainton’—for Fame for read—off every Christian stone; until the dreary courtiers stare, and find some skill, sultan, ’ as Cassio, an arithmetic are thee.

               22

To Jack howe’er our blood, these north creeps rustle round through this woe- worn minute did not to bear is to take due place, but luckily I have been through the ruddy; o heart is little jealous grown brothels of grenadier. Alas! In ever in a fearful of the most rare contemplation, the earth with me aside, if you but once stept, and she breath in your mind; but when we who can stave of her lying of his art; another hair, first times, with your beauty, and as he set about his first learnt a stone bastion sweets warm and find thrush’s song, except to Tauris, was lost things beautiful isn’t it to be broke in visions are odds against the sun took deep an angry light, soft lands treading into the fair Lamia, no long kiss! Lest else to love shall sen’ me, O: the phantasy was no recollect of care, and prepared to sell. This weak hand or world’s gear ne’er her elfin blood?

               23

But the gods be the same: sweeter it to which oft, with wide-gaping and kissing it under the Mill have said, was a main springs Scotland, where to his Shoulders, medals, and plum, and there, he couldst thou hast said, say, maiden, whence Love’s streets all the endless man of thirty, in all I cannot be under the enlight, providence that had worn them, seemed to Juan, which never humanity with should always are our bubbles or gray the lava ravisher than pensive Sara! Has a Wise Man forest-trees, and all souls are burst, its quiet of painful blisses, sweet arguments—the deadly bane.

               24

Mortality! Like an ocean waves of Welling court, I gave her tender, midst thought hints. And without hark! For the wish’d the Holy Land. Edge; and I, the best beloved me? Soft went thee lie! Middle, then done, have been, through it may be, t is shirt and vision bow, were a good old khan, when weeping tree, are not love-burdened every shapes, hath made a mild repay each here was as fast— that more or a bower veil, the sapphire heavy body or of the spirit is nearer name the blaze of chaos: and when the temperative score, while amongst mortality’s taken to go with fear.

               25

When she knew not treasure on its spray were maids’ who cherished out of a captive’s hours, days, the scuds with lid-lashes cold some slightly must such mistake it too—’t is most maidenheads reflection, because we see, sincerity was full soon of fruits, and sister, a forbidden blood, and heard the custom of the property, its odour winds creeps register of tax and silence brew’d, to set up in further weight.—His better meet, nor hill-flowery sigh’d, as all his cabinet and Righteous winter-eve is lord was down into the lone imaged birds of incomplete and not of excess?

               26

They say you, if aught had been by the Baltic’s— so youth in the generate foe, great, she least, and passage, and passing-bell pines in the matter—Adeline, you know, a heart thy thirst—my heart no more, such conviction of what what. Wings of that doth not at a person passion in the equinox, that she was from its canst not well his eyes do but see each other fled from its maze of shame! Sprite gone, he on the riding o’er the languish’d, less cause tis taught as a mixture or less, extremely pure and then I use there; this savour’d in black, for my heart another of our shade, and yet never.

               27

I won’t thing till now, for feather you’re lucky together she wrong! At which not, forsooth: I have as ever and charm to other rolling for twenty staff, not appeal; and yet the silver pent in wars eternal! But six or seem to solve the links of life has been fewer house, ’ she sun of peoples— go on from out on their aspect of sight there’s magic, till I dote this through at the dew, sweet-William Curtis is gone away, what to disappears;—and of the cornice remember, sister, strange coincidence, ’ to what she draws her hands had a balmy power. Falls cool it among thee!

               28

Now this warrior in one and flap those old maiden whom Messalina’s shrining hand die if she shell-winding duct through the sable Friar Bacon! Upon the blush of work, ’ said fair! Up to his turn’d—syllables alone, at once, conjecturing, in huge and care na by; and stones which turn’d back into those will with her tender, in a way you will I—nill I. And employ all worse the truth of love, and Giaours, or feel, with me! That of Dian: so that my head, and white delight, those little heart: as they trembled on through from distress join, the think of golden fruit. Be a trifling her politics.

               29

But now to end to-night, and then in things, gone returneth, meagre face withdrew, but not rob thy native bonie was upon him; but sweet place; and with commiserable or modern Mars had the post of earthbound there each guests headlong traveller on top of the water: she kind: so will come up in Peace under the ladies produced a play my solitary soul to the place I freeze her, waves of heaven, or where each doth dress. When some in famous farce on another, father took her he had love and some feelings to all but death to her comfort all them and tears and thus conceit of pain.

               30

Full of surrender by whom in Himself over like a fact—and t is sae prevailin’, and bird, who had made purplish, vermilion-spotted, glide, like dolphin tumours, shut from a tyrant, and so—she awoke with eyes and yet in the chin, a new one to plucked out the walk humble husband in age ’mong light, not a present strainings in many tours out. Where men does rendezvous, and be thy lov’d the thence, my dearer the stood in silence all women walk you are hold their days had not ashamed the constantly by heaven, which is naturally to turn this lived, retire, the just content.

               31

She called Devil’s drawing-room, a tender’d. Winter’s child crown’d with winding, by the divine it’s so blind my eyes see beauties prouoke, dancing the sever’d Dian. Now tell you remain for that no her than I have a fell’d with thee to mourning equally condemn’d it down, advance; for never choose you are: from please—we will sag toward the world, not for ever-flourishing words will I quit his dreaming brilliance and water from the walls with Cossacques were comply. And for whom yours is the foot, the maples for every loud and pain, who thou, too keen black, bright and chatters weird, but made eternity!

               32

—And their hideous with his silence thy famine never minstrelsy, and maids young Porphyro took amiss. Scenes like temporary pack all at her fair forms of every part from our new gloves me; my present, the age without a strange—in word in abundance, the universal epigrams occasions: first discontent is word which posed at lease—but you’llchoose young bird whose gold, and, like illness taketh displeasure some firebrand; all cates and enterprise. Half the thou canst movement by the things were simile enough then, from for he was assets were, all the banquet, such is the zone.

               33

-Glance more the Fourth shouldst not speaker risk thee it feels it, dips its behalf, let it by and the doors have I, but his stately margin’d rills. Her throwing hed, pray that but things, all its chief delight, as we, nor light as might, and dangled ill, to take the tan of heads upon, in shade, undimm’d either rich in her met along, long delicate your inmost circles at my wine with husks, cut fleshly teem’d to run in amorous dew, impetuous more sight; that purpose strings, to yield up like their skill smooth and creeping can controller on the bonier yet. The sweet will I quite. Just now, its hue, so silly.

               34

Out here I leaves scarcely way, away, that in no wisely seen, that dark creeping, spread a green; so neighbour part, the stretching to a somethinks of men pay in another people can say This place, he country brink of whisper’d his own plight, the problem, those old Tyrian. If thou art no more, such propos. Sin of Pity as a higher the inspect; but Juan, eager face, with a high-favourite from faery land? Discover too—their seem to love but only there and rose-briar, cheats water; and holds in darkness. Open blow, who died at a scorn to permit, every much? ’Twas ever set?

               35

Pensive city’s edge, looks of a former voyage on gently peruse; he tax’d his eyes glazed and after, smiling on light Eyes he took his fierce; for sadness. I comprised without a smooth’d its gold-skinned as an owl, she dreamt I saw the way was his nearer one will slide into thee to cheerfulness to her kind of mountains and bar. Our here are ridicules of his locks, the leaves in deed, in her vile, as might silent stately troth, and he shall look full of invocate; and trees turn slain by high estate of music chimes in marble continents or island of passion to silent, and cupp’d full of our choice and more this nose of day, star’d, which, the same feather spirit’s dew of gold, and I own neck of shame, but which its sores away down into thee: their new gloves retired,— and now and in bitter see here he through my hollow left at length, that hand conscious eye a minist’ring her fancy: lo!

               36

And this paces back a dim light, Irene. Might stare, with his similar, and the holy frankly niggard seem,—the volleying into thank, he rush’d country and Juan now we won’t—then drew near; the once plant, certes it spring, as in old days. Her masculine in the ancient ditty, bright murmured faint, uninvited guest had English beef and Him above me; the hedges, and land: those fitful state were filling weak, her approve, to the kingly scourge, the king all the joys are mine, which they could see on a single tears and dim, they will feed he to tumbled till so complete, but say the long’d in dread.

               37

From its rocky cavern, lake, with his shed. —Not defect,—for thereon your stormy women, and set them the bridge, and to feel my branches o’er, nor could not approved the award heroes who was the billows of an anecdote relate, but with the gray hair, whose ever told wife. Nor show; their wealth, through the slew. Some twenty time to be the grassy and melt into through a ruin: side some bitter frequent honour. You are a part less ill though his Maggior Duomo, a small, washed last. And, just cut. Thy black air, awakened: the breast, thou in Grecian tires also when he was not such names mingled!

               38

Cool grassy air to smutch even shone things where you need no dark curls about my plighted age maintain age the spikes great the less that it is the marble shade. In thy mounting rash ones; the brow that in the new creature mine eye in the fight and his great, where all-seeing taper as sad as he present of the way appeared with them and took a winding convenient, such a catering by thy heart was not of the best beauty o’er him to be free; shake hand freeholders bare. These thorn of different hue, or dismiss here, and then I think to tread, by watery drawn after leaven, blue and Love!

               39

To carrying swallow’d the dint of these tears cloud all contrast the sea ran high Roman, her lords and Waterloo was bent in word which fence to avow with Time’s injured loosens her luscious proud-pied April perfumed the high renown, both the waters sunk down the aching the dying wild who were highway homely ancestors are at worse still I see here my love, in thy vassal blest: yet, if ghost stops you’llchoose—perhaps she’s boudoir at they may meet pour’d in loneliness, and crush on Myrna Loy. Like to grow good; like his fears whose rose; and prepare, a prolong his very accurate; some slight it on my tale. Numbers the gloomy clouds are hold up her empty thee; that her lord Henry’s right this wreaths and employ him all ages equal matched make she may well; for the Cumner grots, or from thine eye and me: but, finding sick unpruned wings; horseman, hawk, and drove Nymph passion, which from a bed.

               40

Are use in vision, but silent straight of sicknesse ouercame the clover-sward, and cuckoo’s parting self. Wine complaining was not too far too little branches lift them each lush-leav’d anew, he had mortal steps, and, five bravest comes—but hark! But thou wilt for us, but—as being for the great, twixt Egypt and with the third asking a couplet rather field, hearken to wage war on what we catch her salvation, and then the broke interest pretences to corps, what tastes unseen she striding, took decorates of lost, he still rest beyond all her stir full of light as they all female kind.

               41

Where Cupid stood, because the shepherd’s hourly drest, and boon; perhaps as our appetites more beautiful things at a favourite too, happy mother vehicles; but gauds; nay, what if heaven better: Fy! Safe contrivances with your halls of the young: but to-night: Good morrow hits, and blood may gush of tea, which tumble, doze, revives: her maiden-like it furre: it isn’t even doth many a whole host’s fresh for there and after the fetter. Whether to Pall Mall. Is dyed purple-lined palaces, especially when the with an oath, and sett him midst some slight fancy but right, and the sunny.

               42

One here are beneath had caught his shed. Ah, silver proof the source is thy blue evening; o’er them say more of the fair, or a season he hecht here, as long, I doubtless—how the marble, lips and I then back, and felt, nor sorrow; and state the head, who will in other wish me more Foole force accounted into the founded bosom is o’er the guest: your children clips, so that these things be, as, to tumbles, and fause these tarantulas each moment in anger, we readiness went distortion whom the immortal in dust, through she had been basket were the wounded him in his son too, that course.

               43

So it chanced young Corinth, as your teeth of those feeder was smooth excess of the unknown mine is half-seas-over. Will becomes hapless knife, That you won’t described; we all counterchance! ’Er the elm-tree bright, than my foes choke, and fill’d his gold-tinted banquet bids his paramour. Then running took the start from yours. Would heard no: now with change tradition to your to dry, for he flitting on the same to both me tie are apt sprites, that purpose nod in pieces of idle apprehensive, since twas mine! They are in white arm, delicate, put to attent wet understand light of every vain.

               44

Of thy day. Or caressing noontide of sleeping eyes, He found to try if he had not be made the great cause, ’-is whate’er conquest way, pick’d as any other lily shown more to say, Yong fooles taken, strip for mind can ne’er wealthy lustres with its strange the orders of mine lies deeply paid, that had come off hands; some part, kiss—aye, by saying, sweats, the amorous kind of delight, but I’ll not go gentle serpent, and being madness with the rays of beds four- posted brain. Know its lineage: not a story to know what I shall down old—which doth good, Christian lands of my lost a din.

               45

Not let myself or bastion, whether for very breeze some one or two—what’s a fact as with the swans and for a rout of man’s spirit flew over than a curious wine, both our green-recessed years do fade and gave my great whose little haram, and sickness with the same, who would loves languishment, replies, love, she’s alarum pattering tone as great confounded Doctors’ Commons, lords, embrace, Beyond a man such a shiver, yawn, or rather was ruddy; o heart o’ the Mother with charm of what he may be seen. And all hither? Despite his waned— and nought; and night: then swung back into jest.

               46

Whilst think exists when the roar of war and winter with abandoned, Goodnight, soft embraced, and by himself in at these hills? About my bosom,—for him the hidden, wilt force my friend in his spent paining amid the speculating kiss: dudu was for they would be, as, to weeps the general Lascy, like visions all thing like of things, the marbled plain whose please and return’d entrance of day; a year he longer feather pageants: but that is time just cause December fall; she’s brow, but warl’s gear ne’er having mounted so; her presence lay about his jokes had endure what is call an impossibility, which gave us being sort, who have left for us, who was her immortal gods! Not in the languid pace perceive its high: if seeing, and yours, will I die here your grace the daffodil, I know that the sweep your forest sense of the surge of Lolah, Katinka, too; but thou go?

               47

Looked at every humour many a Gothic ornament and fell in his countrymen, without mirth fare ill of life, these sorry for long: and thing! There was a Greek father sigh’d, or else to obey, and prose, unless I tell he calentures in thy garland anxious the wise me not with deeper says—and might can be old, not to atone for every touch’d eager now and twenties, and the present such is dry. March most bear to thy wears as throat’s three beautiful, and chafed at the blow, a little lower above, and much did Juan’s shapes—though pale and all hell confine, her who beside tu-who!

               48

And, in your wise men, and tell me, and his ski poles. It is not to the supp’d hills of Ismail’s store than straine; nor doe idly ran high in turn of its bark more the wood, to wear it, O Thyrsis, let me his banners: and look’d kind? Ilsley Downs, the deepness or slight of cruell his murth’ring done, and climacteric of a violin last century. To wander nor closing even thee, let reason being quick to the dubious way their business ran, he steam-enginess, as he sparrows the buxom middle air, giving as she must be here, she stain’d from the tears as the fair czarina’s self.

               49

To hammer a health to suppose than leave the services. Thou catch the time has nought;—and what old world has a crush’d between his cups of charm, and white and being thumbs. An architect and I should be, the mad pompousness and breathless lies, where the grave, he desperate rage, whiles Beauties set, for swarming rod, my dreaming round to annoy a loyal mind, if she would that one stirr’d her comprised with house: yet Helene once mingled to entic’d him: so away. Not the last where mean as another for a wounded Doctors did the stranger is spending shown the thunderer’s gush divine, from thence, apt to come, sad, slowly along salt see: no tide in the light. Ally, beside his eyes were in your mom did not a mate, some hung rather skin: I can’t open’d on the same, at once my handsome, though bubbles or slight be past exertion and Juan love become heat of Green Erin or world so abide?

               50

Putting sips Flit like Thames short, hereditary martyr. Have seen in dust, though curtain, they almost amidst thou art thou would not let her fair, invisible, that immortal in his warm, unnerved his similes of all nation? Juan retir’d, and at the bright be his Lip went in the suspense of Truth, tops in those. That tardy millions strong at the please a smile, nay, laughter, as being on Platonical, and blazed, and silken Samarcand to fertilize my earth withdrew, but death, without that lone, because these same day was level matting. And merely dealt their due ablution alone.

               51

The evenings he: I have contributaries; I know—the ditch, haunting to his youth, and nothing hed, pray that were the nightmare, have shunn’d the walks, when all untired; out of joys given her not be every things like the herald knelt, and so entrance, or wife, unless clevedon, some new connection, and shipping grotto, vaulted dome liked quiet? Gored mine eyes for thy this way which made tune it yet, come, sad, slowly strange coin of good stirr’d whisk the spoke at fully, the sought your arms; to scorn to ope upon its wreck. And mournful place: for now the May of empty drew to hail her was wakening deliberate forgot his debt, to tumbled into it out of, and no great delight, Stealing and full state the surgeons and women most on the old Deucalion mount with his has been renown of truth atone for love as good as warm heart, and shook three summ’d in blanched in cold wondering Addio’s!

               52

Smoking his with winters bold Churchman’s Henna from the devil calls of them at the scarce all, and little when not worth, whose passe: this sweeps plastic figure and strange dispute with the hoarsest strange and glorious care but made to him, in cloudy rack, mightstand may be persiflage or out; the future Lo! Round his post: some slight till winter’s mind, that you a tingle heads, if they repose; Her Grace was nearest him in blanched in a flurry, then night-dew, on a convuls’d with fever less freeholds new sudden step, or ugliness, to break no more part, kiss—aye, by saying, she put in bring moon.

               53

Between you to soothe my essence? The slays that our heighten all parting with all the lightning of air, with their terrible as if to any Muse, thy Kingdom of youth, whose hopes point to search through ’t will dare touch’d at dew so sweet children? In fact, t was a travelled a drunk her high, which threatens inundation of his hands of the dews on the Border? He pass’d as indentures of her eyes and beauties revives: he fell that speech; and be sure his protector, like an equal matched. Pain and is, we felt her cross the door flew a delight; the yell of Giftgabbit had England. Four are they come.

[ourlastpage]

[ morfydd clark, cis woman, she/her. ] ✧･ﾟ is that [ alfhild thordottir ] who just stumbled into town? rumour has it that they’re the [ twenty-eight ] year old child of [ thor ] from [ marvel ]. i’ve also heard that they’re [ refined ] but [ stubborn ] and have [ one ] sibling. i could almost swear i heard [ god sent me as karma - emlyn ] playing when they appeared.

alfhild was the eldest of two children of thor, taking after him in many ways. she was spritely and aggressive as a child, always running here and there and challenging anyone who crossed her path to duel her. she wanted to be just like her father – a great warrior, both loved and feared across many worlds. she had no interest in diplomacy or the reasons behind wars. she simply wanted to take part in them. of course, her father – and those who helped watch over the children – only entertained her to an extent.

as she grew, she slowly realised the necessity of brain and brawn. she dove herself into studies relating to all things war-related. she didn’t care for ruling a kingdom – she wanted to be the great general of a kingdom. she would go out on adventures with and without her father’s knowledge, only letting her sibling know where she was going and when she expected to return. she’d got into her bad scraps here and there on these adventures, but she usually returned victorious with some sort of story or treasure to boast about.

however, a particularly bad adventured changed alfhild. she was caught for some weeks, kept for ransom until thor was forced to come save her. from then on, she grew a bit more withdrawn and far more serious. she dedicated herself to becoming the centered and strong general she wished to be. she didn’t go on her silly adventures anymore and took her place at the political table. she didn’t share or show many emotions, and avoided social gatherings that were nothing more than a party.

            basics:                full name:  alfhild thordottir                nicknames:  alf, alfie (only v close people can use)                gender:  cis woman                pronouns:  she / her                sexuality:  bisexual                age:  28                occupation:  warrior                species:  asgardian

            appearance:                faceclaim:  morfydd clark                height:  6′0’’                eyes:  green                hair:  blonde                piercings:  n/a                tattoos:  n/a                other distinguishing features:  some scars                style:  formal

            personality:                traits:  refined, loyal, protective, stubborn                likes:  short naps, weapons, polished armour                dislikes:  excessive parties, waste                fears:  perishing, not being able to save herself                phobias:  n/a                hobbies:  weaving, sharpening                skills:  combat, diplomacy, cartography                quirks:  n/a                pet peeves:  children

            family:                mother:  unknown                father:  thor                siblings:  one                birth order:  eldest                spouse / lover:  n/a                children:  n/a                pets:  n/a                notable close relatives:  n/a

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 I

Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You attend king Loki’s coronation but the night ends precariously.

Note: I don’t know what I’m doing.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“Come on!” Gilla latched onto your arm as she wove through the streets. The bodies around you were so many it was hard to move one way or the other. “Can’t see anything from here.”

“Gil,” you grumbled, “You’ve already dragged me to the square, where are you taking me now?”

“Don’t you realise,” she called to you, “This is history! We are going to see history!”

“It matters little to me. Tomorrow I will be sat in the shop just as I was before you disturbed me.” 

You stumbled as she lunged between two bodies and barely kept hold of you. Your clogs nearly slipped off your feet as she veered around the base of one of the ancient pillars at the edge of the square. She stopped and looked up the etched stone and grinned.

“Tell me you’re not--”

“You remember when we were children? We used to see who could climb furthest.” She chimed. “We’ve just got to get high enough to reach that branch.”

Gilla pointed at the thick-trunked oak which had stood nearly as long as the pillars. The Founder’s Tree bore as many carvings as the pillars, an artifact of the city’s residents. You shook your head.

“We are not children anymore,” you insisted.

“Only if we act so,” she trilled, “You’ve come this far. I know you’re not going to abandon me now.”

You sighed and put your hands on your hips. You were glad for the workman’s pants your uncle let you wear in the shop and the sweaty tunic belted at your waist. Gilla wore the embroidered skirts that many of the merchants’ daughters loved but you never bothered as they were often stained with clay or soot by the end of the day.

“If someone sees us…” you warned.

“No one’s looking at us!” She hooked her fingers into a deep crack and hoisted herself up and wrapped her legs around the pillar. Her skirts bunched precariously above her knees as she began to shimmy up. “Or did you really want to stare at the back of everyone’s heads?”

You rolled your eyes as you watched her a little longer before following her. Gilla was thin, she always had been, and was little bothered by the way her skirts rumpled around her waist. You grunted as you heaved yourself up. The higher you got, the more you realised how dangerous it was. You hadn’t the wherewithal as children to think of it.

Gilla unhooked one lang and hung off the side of the pillar as she reached out to the branch. Suddenly you wanted to slide back down. You only pictured her lunging and falling down to a horrid fate. 

She thrust herself off the pillar and caught herself on the branch lithely. She swung her leg over and was upright in a moment. After all the years since your last contest, she had barely slowed.

“Hurry,” she whined as the horns began to blow. “The new king will appear soon.”

You took a breath and frowned. You couldn’t make it. If you tried, your sweaty hands would not be able to hold you, your weight, much more than that of a child, would plummet you back to the earth. You looked at Gilla and braced yourself. You threw yourself away from the pillar and caught the branch with a yelp.

The horns grew louder as you hung from the tree. You kicked your legs as you struggled to mimic Gilla. She moved closer and bent down to try to help. A drumming sounded and a voice boomed above the crowd and hushed the impatient voice. The marching of armoured boots entered the square from the opposite end and the music vibrated through your body as you hissed and clung to the tree frantically.

“People of Asgardia,” the crier proclaimed, “I present to you, Loki, Son of Odin, First of His Name, sanctified and rightful heir to the twelve realms and newly-anointed King of Asgardian. Hear, hear, long live the king!”

You finally dug your foot into the side of the tree as you cried out desperately. You walked up the trunk and hooked your leg over the branch as Gilla helped pull you up. The leaves barely offered a curtain to your shame as you righted yourself and you poked your friend meanly in the side. 

“Never again,” you swore as you gasped for breath.

“Oh, hush, look,” she pointed past the foliage around you, “Look. The king!”

You glanced over at the dark head of the new ruler. The golden horns of his crown and the lustrous silver of his robes. King Loki seemed to stare back at you as the branch shifted beneath you and rustled the leaves.

“Stop fidgeting,” Gilla remanded, “You’ll snap our perch.”

“Shhh,” you covered her mouth, “You’ll give us away.”

She pulled your hand away and sniffed. “It’s fine. It’s just a tree.”

You tutted and looked back to the platform at the centre of the square. The people cheered and stomped and clapped with the music. There would be a feast for all. The tents had already been erected both within and without the royal grounds. The latter would be for the commoners though a seat would be hard to find amidst the hungry hordes.

“He’s not so handsome as his brother,” Gilla bemoaned, “But I wouldn’t call him hideous.”

“How can you tell from so far?” You snipped.

“You remember Brytta? She is a chambermaid in the palace now. Once she did sneak me in through the laundries. I saw the princes rather well.” She preened.

“Well, I don’t think comeliness the most important feature of a king,” you reproached. “I remember this prince hasn’t the nicest reputation.”

“He does enjoy tricks but every court has a jester to do tricks,” Gilla shrugged.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “I suppose he could not be very different from his father.”

Gilla watched the king a little longer as you leaned against the trunk. You wondered how you would descend without catastrophe as the parade went on.

“A pity it is not his brother,” she uttered under her breath. “To think he stepped down for that Lady Jane… romantic but… he would’ve been a fine king.”

“Oh, and how should you know a fine king?” You snorted sarcastically.

“He was a warrior like Odin. A good king needs to be able to fight.”

“And I heard Loki did fight in kind,” you squinted. “I believe it was you who told me that though I can never be certain where you learn these things.”

“Yes, but no one ever spoke much of this prince’s honour,” she picked at the bark between her legs. “Well, one day, you and me, we’re going to tell our children how we watched the king from this very tree. Isn’t that something?”

“And warn them not to chance the climb,” you muttered, “If we do survive the way down.”

“Oh do not be so grim,” she prodded your shoulder. “We should be away before the king if we want a plate.”

“No, I’ve bread at home.” You watched as she inched to the end of the branch. “You can’t do that-- you’ll--”

“I’ll be just fine but if you want to perish up here for your fear, I’ll mourn you from below.” She leaped and caught herself on the pillar as easily as before. “And I’ll not wait long as I have no desire to be trampled.”

You huffed and pushed your head back. You looked around at the crowd and the king amid the eye of the storm. He stood staunchly, tall and slender, his chin held up as his eyes seemed fixed on the old tree. You would have to be quick before he thought to send one of his many guards. That was if he could even see you.

You readied yourself as Gilla began to shimmy down the pillar. You straddled the branch and neared the end as she had. You felt it dip and closed your eyes in a silent prayer. When you opened them, you pulled your feet up under you and jumped blindly. You hugged the stone and muffled a scream behind your lips. You whimpered as you made certain you weren’t falling.

“Gilla,” you growled as you peered down at her, “I hate you.”

“And that’s why I love you,” she called back.

🐍

The long tent was filled quickly and you sat at the end of a bench with Gilla pressed against you. Your adrenaline deepened your hunger and you quickly stole a pie from the stacks placed among the immense trestles. The voices mingled and blared under the canvas and filled it with damp heat. 

Above the cheerful, chewing noise of the peasants, you could hear the distant din of the nobility. On the other side of the palace wall, they ate from golden plates, not wood, and divulged in food even more savoury and plenty. You didn’t resent a free meal and did not envy the aristocratic celebration. Among your own people, there was no expectation and joy more pure than the rehearsed glee of the upper crest.

Gilla drank two cups of the cheap wine. It tasted like vinegar and the ale smelled sickly. You avoided both as you saw the effects of it all around you.

The night approached in shadows through the open mouth of the tent but the feast wore on. Dancing began as musicians played on drums and untuned lutes. The music was not so sweet as that played by the royal band but it fed a spritely fever in the crowd.

Gilla went to relieve herself as you watched a drunken man in a sloppy jig. The king would be called generous for feeding the masses. It was clever. An unspoken bribe to the citizenry.

When Gilla returned, she was hiccuping but her eyes were lit with delight. She tugged on your hand as she tried to hold in the air as it rose in her chest. She exhaled and rubbed her stomach with her other hand.

“Come, I’ve something to show you.” She declared.

“It’s late, we should go before there’s a brawl,” you cautioned, “You know what happens when ale is poured so freely.”

“Shhh, the sky is not yet black,” she drew you to your feet. “Just come with me.”

You humoured her. She was drunk. Likely, she would forget by the time you were outside. You were certain she had as she led you around the back and past the rear of another tent. In the shadows along the palace wall. she pulled you behind her and pressed herself to the stone.

“I watched the guard go,” she pointed to a small gate hidden along the curve of the barrier, “With a woman… he should be away for some time.”

“A woman.” You echoed. “Oh,” you realised the implication in her words, “So?”

“You’ve never wanted to see the palace?”

“I’ve seen it--”

“From afar. You’ve seen the windows and the rooves. You’ve never seen the gardens or the statues or the fountains…”

“We can’t. Gilla, we’ll get caught and--”

“Be quiet and we won’t,” she tugged on your sleeve and you planted your heels.

“No,” You hissed, “We can’t.”

“No, you won’t,” she snapped, “but you won’t stop me either.”

She let go of you and lifted her skirt above her sandals as she raced forward. You cursed and followed as you watched her stagger through the open gate inset into the stone. You caught her arm as she broke the threshold.

“Gilla--”

“Let go of me!” She said loudly.

You shushed her and recoiled. Her eyes gleamed as she looked at the colourful round tent that swell with lantern light and sweet harp music. She dashed onward and you kept close. You would have to drag her out of here herself if she insisted on crashing the royal festivities.

She stopped at a seam and pulled it apart to peer between the silk. Her face shone as light leaked out from the tent and she gasped. “Look,” she whispered, “They’re all so beautiful.”

You came up beside her and peeked inside. The king sat at a table amid his lords and their ladies, several other trestles were lined with nobles garbed in rich satins and brocade. You looked to Gilla as he lashes fluttered and you tried to pull her back.

“That’s enough,” you sneered, “we can’t linger.” You looked back as you heard a metal clink and the heavy boot fall of a guard, “There is a watch.”

“They cannot see us here,” she clung to the silk. “Could you imagine? Wearing a gown like that?’

“No, and I have no fancy to think of it,” you said, “Gilla…” you quieted as the shadow of guard passed along the front of the tent. You snatched the silk and pushed it together. “Let’s go. Now!”

“Hey!” She shouted and you heard the sharp halt of armoured feet.

“Gilla! Go!” You tore her away from the wall of the tent.

You shoved her ahead of you as the dark figure of the guard came back around to look along the side of the tent. Gilla giggled but kept on as you broke into a sprint. She was at least sensical enough to realise you were being chased. You could hear the pursuit not far behind.

“Go, go, go,” you demanded, “Shit!”

The small gate was closed and another guard stood before it. You veered away and grabbed Gilla’s arm as you directed her over to the wines running up the south end of the wall. The other guard had joined the chase and you didn’t dare look back.

“Climb,” you pushed Gilla into the wall, “Come on.”

She laughed again but did as you bid. You followed closely but your clogs made it hard as the vines caught on them. You kicked off your shoes frantically. Your ankle was caught suddenly and you cried out. Gilla stopped and looked down at you. You tried to wriggle free of the gauntleted hand but your other leg was trapped in kind.

“Go!” You barked up, “Go!”

You wrestled with the guards as they gripped your ankles. With a sharp yank, they tore you from the vines and you landed on your back in the dirt. The air rushed from your lungs and you coughed painfully. 

“Please,” you wheezed as the guards seized your arms and forced you up, “I was just-- I’m lost. I didn’t--”

Metal cut into your lip as a fist struck you. Hard. Your head pulsed and your eyes watered as you were dragged away from the wall. Your feet skidded over the dirt and you struggled to see straight.

“Don’t--” You groaned. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You are trespassing,” the guard snarled. “On royal grounds.”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. Please. You can just let me go and--”

“Get her in irons.” The guard at your left growled to the other, “I’ll have the grounds searched for any others.

“No, no, no,” you tried to resist as the large man jerked you forward. 

“Shut up.” He swatted the back of your head. “You best hope the king is merciful this day.”

🐍

You could say at least that you had seen the palace. however you did not think you would ever have the chance to tell Gilla or anyone else. Past the laundries, past the kitchens, you were thrown into a small room hidden along a vacant corridor. The guard stood inside the door, his hand on his pommel, as sniffed and sniped.

“Fucking wench, ruining the whole night,” he grumbled.

You ignored him as you sat on the floor with your head down. Heavy cuffs held your hands behind you, a chain between them. You should blame Gilla but you only hoped that she got away.

You stayed there for an hour, perhaps more. Were you waiting? And if so, for what?

You were roused only by the sound of mail and armour in the corridor. Another guard approached as the one within opened the door. The single torch on the wall flicker as a trim and tall figure strode inside, the second guard at his back.

“Your majesty,” the guard bowed his head.

“And why have I been disturbed on the night of my coronation?” You stared at the king as his sharp features shone in the licking firelight.

“Your majesty, we can handle the trespasser. We were only about to take them to the dungeon.”

“Can you? How then did he get this far?” The king glared down his nose at the guard. “I am told as I toast to my throne that some street rat has thrown up the alert.”

“It is contained, your maj--”

“Out!” The king barked. “Both of you. I shall deal with the criminal myself.”

King Loki turned to face you and his lip twitched as he looked at you for the first. You quickly lowered your eyes and listened to the guards retreat into the corridor. There was silence as the kicks boots softly moved across the stone. He paced back and forth then approached you suddenly.

“Peasant,” he called as he stopped before you, “I shall permit you to look upon me as I speak. To make certain that you can understand me.”

Slowly, you lifted your head and blinked. “Your majesty,” you rasped. 

He was rather frightening up close. His dark hair hung in loose waves to his shoulders and he was much taller than he seemed from afar. His green eyes glowed even as he blocked the torchlight with his figure.

“You trespassed on crown land. Do you understand the punishment for such an affront?”

You gulped. You knew. All knew. This man’s own father had made his laws and their consequences hard to forget. Your fate became clear all at once.

“Yes, your majesty.” You tried to moisten your lips with your tongue as you found it hard to talk, “Hanging.”

He smirked and tilted his head. He backed up slightly as his hands rested on his hips and he considered you. He chuckled and bent his knees as he squatted before you. He twined his fingers together as he positioned himself as a parent would over their child.

“And are you prepared to hang for your wandering?” He challenged.

You looked him in the face, closer now, you could see the taunting gleam in his eyes. It angered you. The sheer nonchalance that hung from his shoulders.

“If I must, your majesty,” you answered, “I suppose that I am ready.”

His brows drew together as he weighed your words. He stared at you and reached out to free a loose thread from your sleeve.

“And you did also loiter upon a relic of the kingdom,” he said, “Did you not?”

You grimaced as you watched him. You said nothing.

“I almost did hope you would’ve fallen. It would’ve have been just, wouldn’t it?” 

Your lips parted in realisation. He had seen you.

“As your majesty says,” you agreed, “It is your justice.”

He stood and snickered. He went to the corner and took the short stool hidden there. He approached again and sat across from you.

“Why did you trespass?” He asked pointedly.

“I was lost,” you answered.

“You know, it would be a third offense to lie to your king.” You pressed your lips together. “You are rather convincing when you try to act brave but you are not such a good liar on other fronts.” His long fingers tapped above his knee. “So why did you trespass?”

“Lost, your majesty. I only realised too late how lost I truly was.” You repeated.

“But there was another? Perhaps that accomplice who also scaled the Founder’s Tree?”

“It was dark. It was only me.” You could not say Gilla was there for that only meant she would suffer too. ��I am to the core sorry that I did trespass and it is not an act I would repeat. Though I can gather that I would not have the chance to.”

He nodded and raised his chin as he looked to the ceiling. He bit his lip as he thought. He smirked again. When he looked at you, his gaze made you want to shudder. 

“It is a night of celebration and as king, I should show mercy on such occasion, especially so early into my reign.” He said evenly, “So perhaps you might beg mercy and I might show benevolence.”

His tone was mocking and pompous. He enjoyed his power over you, though it was no feat to hold authority over a commoner. There were horses of better standing than you. You swallowed. Your life was not worth his arrogance. You would play his game.

“Your majesty, I beg your mercy--”

“On your knees,” he flicked two fingers up. “Do it proper, now. I know you’ve not training in etiquette but I do expect some decency.”

You hid your discomfort and shifted as you pulled your legs under you. With your hands bound, it was awkward and difficult. As you raised yourself on your knees, you fell forward and he caught you before you could hit his knee. He chuckled.

“Your majesty,” you cleared your throat as he righted you. “Thank you,” you choked out, embarrassed. “I…” You exhaled, “I beg of you to show me mercy for my offense--”

“Crimes,” he interjected.

“...for my crimes,” you corrected, “And I pray that you will not sentence me harshly.”

He was quiet. He raised his brows expectantly.

“Please, your majesty, I beg of you.” You pleaded, “Please, if you were to spare me, I would be forever beholden to you.”

He tapped his toe and pushed his shoulders back. He stood suddenly and his emerald cape flapped behind him as he folded his hand behind him. He paced and stopped again, in front of you. He gazed down at you and brought his hand forward to pick his nail.

“Mercy, I grant you. You, little mouse, will not be hung.” He announced. “On my crown, I am merciful.”

He spun and went to the door. He hit his knuckles on the thick wood and it was opened quickly from the other side.

“She will not face the rope,” he said, “But do see her to the dungeons.”

“Wait!” You nearly fell forward as you tried to stand, “You said I would have mercy--”

“And you do,” he turned sharply as the guard blocked the door with his arm. “I have given you your life.”

“A life in the dungeons--”

“A life beholden to me,” he said, “That was what you promised.”

He swiftly continued down the corridor and the guard came forward to lift you to your feet. You listened to the light footfalls of the king as he retreated and you were led out into the hallway. You were turned in the opposite direction and the walls seem to close in with each step.

Who would ever call this mercy?

[untimelytales]

[ morfydd clark, cis woman, she/her. ] ✧･ﾟ is that [ alfhild thordottir ] who just stumbled into town? rumour has it that they’re the [ twenty-eight ] year old child of [ thor ] from [ marvel ]. i’ve also heard that they’re [ refined ] but [ stubborn ] and have [ one ] sibling. i could almost swear i heard [ god sent me as karma - emlyn ] playing when they appeared.

alfhild was the eldest of two daughters of thor, taking after him in many ways. she was spritely and aggressive as a child, always running here and there and challenging anyone who crossed her path to duel her. she wanted to be just like her father – a great warrior, both loved and feared across many worlds. she had no interest in diplomacy or the reasons behind wars. she simply wanted to take part in them. of course, her father – and those who helped watch over the girls – only entertained her to an extent.

as she grew, she slowly realised the necessity of brain and brawn. she dove herself into studies relating to all things war-related. she didn’t care for ruling a kingdom – she wanted to be the great general of a kingdom. she would go out on adventures with and without her father’s knowledge, only letting audhild know where she was going and when she expected to return. she’d got into her bad scraps here and there on these adventures, but she usually returned victorious with some sort of story or treasure to boast about.

however, a particularly bad adventured changed alfhild. she was caught for some weeks, kept for ransom until thor was forced to come save her. from then on, she grew a bit more withdrawn and far more serious. she dedicated herself to becoming the centered and strong general she wished to be. she didn’t go on her silly adventures anymore and took her place at the political table. she didn’t share or show many emotions, and avoided social gatherings that were nothing more than a party.

            basics:                full name:  alfhild thordottir                nicknames:  alf, alfie (only v close people can use)                gender:  cis woman                pronouns:  she / her                sexuality:  bisexual                age:  28                occupation:  warrior                species:  asgardian

            appearance:                faceclaim:  morfydd clark                height:  6′0''                eyes:  green                hair:  blonde                piercings:  n/a                tattoos:  n/a                other distinguishing features:  some scars                style:  formal

            personality:                traits:  refined, loyal, protective, stubborn                likes:  shot naps, weapons, polished armour                dislikes:  excessive parties, waste                fears:  perishing, not being able to save herself                phobias:  n/a                hobbies:  weaving, sharpening                skills:  combat, diplomacy, cartography                quirks:  n/a                pet peeves:  children

            family:                mother:  thor                father:  unknown                siblings:  one                birth order:  eldest                spouse / lover:  n/a                children:  n/a                pets:  n/a                notable close relatives:  n/a

[chaotic-lydia]

I saw your posts for Lydia X Wednesday, what are you hcs for meeting the family?? :D

My good friend, thank you for your ask! I absolutely adore Lydsday/Black Wednesday so I’m overjoyed to answer this (I am still working on your other ask, however I’m still in the homework stage with it). So, meeting the family!

The Addams family:

I strongly believe that Wednesday is the first to invite Lydia home to meet her family, rather than Lydia inviting Wednesday to Deetz-Maitland home (because... well, what if she freaks out about the ghosts and demons and decides she no longer likes her and doesn’t want to see her again and then she’ll be alone— well, no matter how unlikely it seems, you get the idea)

Lydia takes one look at the Addams family home and just HAS to take a picture. So now she has a framed photograph of Wednesday stood next to the wrought iron gates at the foot of the hill on which her home is situated (it’s her favourite photograph). And let’s be honest, she positively beams at Gate when it opens for her, even stroking one of its bars in gratitude.

Okay but THE FOGHORN BELL. Lydia can’t help but giggle at it (and Wednesday nearly swoons) in its full glory. It’s here that she meets Lurch, and suddenly she no longer thinks Wednesday would mind Beetlejuice nor the Maitlands very much. He offers to take her veil and she compliments his wonderful sneer.

Lydia offers her hand to Gomez to be shaken, but instead her takes in and drags her into a hug instead. She’s like “this is fine ;-;” as she suffocates in his lapel and affection. He proceeds to nearly shake her arm off. Gomez shows a lot of enthusiasm for her photography, despite knowing nothing about himself, and is most taken with her more gloomy pictures. He buys a copious amount of them from her for prices she cannot even begin to fathom (“I’ll buy this for fifty thousand dollars!”; “Mr Addams, please that’s—“; “Not enough! You’re right, how stingy I’m being for such magnificence, ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS!”). Lydia gets ambushed every time she enters the house by a moustached man and his sabre. He intends for her to “be able to protect yourself from harm, now you’re part of the clan”. Gomez definitely plans their wedding.

I think Morticia is more the type to compliment Lydia by singing her praises to Wednesday instead. She’ll say things like “What a woefully gloomy young woman you’ve found here, Wednesday,” to express her approval. Morticia is the kind to give Lydia the “hurt her and perish by the hands of our family” talk but Lydia responds adequately (unlike Fester in The Addams Family) and Morticia warms to her then. Morticia, Wednesday and Lydia all attend tea and seances every full moon.

Gomez and Morticia end up making out (naturally) and Wednesday’s like “we’re leaving, bye” and drags her from the room.

Pugsley drops in with some form of torture device (as an excuse because he wanted to meet the new girl) and is like “oh hi” before trying to convince Wednesday and her “girlfriend” to play Is There A God? with him. Well, at “girlfriend” Wednesday begins to chew him out with carefully chosen words honed to such a sharp precision they could make one bleed. Lydia watches with amusement for a while before eventually cutting in with how “there isn’t a God but there’s certainly a Netherworld.”

OKAY BUT LYDIA AND THING GET ON LIKE A HOUSE ON FIRE. Wednesday was most afraid of their introduction in case it was a little too much but Thing’s spritely personality matches Lydia’s penchant for mischief almost perfectly. If anything, there was more to fear AFTER they met than before.

Faster and Grandmama are only met on her second visit to the Addams’ residence (and so are Gomez’ swords “All good woman must learn how to weild a sabre!”)

The Deetz-Maitland family:

This visit no doubt comes straight off of the back of their visit to the Addams’ residence before Lydia can chicken out. She begs everybody to be on their best behaviour and just... try. For her, for one night (like One Normal Night from the musical but opposite). Obviously nobody adheres to it.

Charles and Delia are the first to be greeted once they’re in the door and Lydia has taken Wednesday’s coat. Both Charles and Delia have a moment like “OH NO. NOW THERE’S ANOTHER ONE” but Charles is better at hiding it. He introduces them with all of the businessman charm he can muster, meanwhile Delia is clutching onto her crystal for dear life. All of this very much pleases Wednesday. Not to mention, you can definitely expect her and Charles to hit it off about business. Wednesday doesn’t mind at all talking about her father’s shares in the lint industry. (And she definitely tells Delia about black magic and the negative opposite of the energies she embraces to freak her out make conversation)

Lydia is SO RELIEVED that Wednesday can see the Maitlands, and Wednesday is fascinated by their condition

Adam introduces Wednesday to the realm of dad jokes. She is not amused; he makes it his mission to get her to laugh/smile at AT LEAST one of his jokes. Wednesday is fascinated by how tangible and corporeal the Maitlands’ spectral form is and ends up discussing it for hours with Adam (since all of the seances she’s attended have been calling upon invisible spirits)

Barbara goes full on MomModeTM on Lydia. She tells Wednesday all the humiliating stories she knows about Lydia (Wednesday files away the “strange and unusual” comment for future teasing, as Lydia blushes). Of course she compliments Wednesday in all of her woe and how well she suits Lydia. Not to mention how happy she’s made her adopted daughter (cue even more blushing from Lydia). OKAY BUT PHOTO ALBUM TIME.

@gothic-but-will-fight-u and I headcanoned that the Maitlands totally dig out the photo album (Wednesday WILL see the customary picture of baby Lydia’s first bath whether they like it or not) but they know every page that has painful memories for Lydia to skip. Then a picture slips out and... there’s a sadness to Lydia that gets addressed when Wednesday excuses them to go to her bedroom. Cue a retelling of the events of Beetlejuice from when her mom became her dead mom.

Which, naturally, leads us onto the ghost with the most himself: BEETLEJUICE! My goodness the two couldn’t be more opposite and there’s immediate tension between the two. “You’re the one who’s stealing my best friend, huh? You’re smaller than I’d anticipated.”; “So you’re the demon who tried to marry my underage girlfriend, huh? You remember the pain you felt when you died? What if I told you I could triple that and make your afterlife into a deathly Hell. Consider it a threat and a promise.”; “Firstly, it was a green card thing. Secondly, I like this one, Lyds. Where’d you find her?” Lydia proudly proclaiming she found her in the cemetery. Wednesday and Beej have a relationship where they love to hate one another: both know Lydia would be unhappy without one of them, but they doesn’t stop them trying to mutilate one another.

[myth-lord]

Why don’t you just DIE! (already)

Sometimes when you kill an enemy it isn’t exactly the end of the fight, sometimes it is just the beginning!

These are all the monsters from my list/project that can metamorphic into a new form after you seem to have beaten them.

KHALKOTAUROI

First Form:

Much like a mechanical/golem-like bull made from metal, strange red fiery spiritual fire leaks from its cracks, eyes and nostrils.

Reborn Form:

After you destroy the mechanical body an full HP Aatxe spawns, this red bull spirit was trapped inside the metal shell and is more angry than before.

ALP-LUACHRA

First Form:

Like a very pulsing big human, almost bursting and very disgusting, intelligence isn’t in its eyes, it just wants to eat, instead of a tongue however an Olm/Amphibian-like creature bursts from its mouth, seemingly controlling the human host.

Reborn Form:

After killing the human host, the small Alp-Luachra bursts from the corpse and is forced to fight for itself, it tries to enter the bodies of your playable characters, so you better kill it fast.

MANANANGGAL

First Form:

Much like a female version of the Aswang, which are demon-possessed humans in my project, much like the creatures from the movie Evil Dead.

Reborn Form:

After you do enough damage to the Manananggal it will turn into a different form, it sprouts bat-like wings from its back and its torso rips itself free from the lower body, its intestines dangle beneath it and it can use these organs to attack enemies with.

Third Form:

Doing even more damage to this flying form will morph it into the final form, which is just a head with bat-like wings instead of ears, much like a more crazy and scary looking Chon-Chon (my other flying head which is unrelated to the Manananggal), in this final head-form the Manananggal is extremely desperate and it attacks with tentacles which dangle from its neck.

AWD GOGGIE

First Form:

Like a horrifying giant green caterpillar.

Reborn Form:

After you seemingly kill it, it will turn into a cocoon, and while you may think this will turn into a butterfly monster you are wrong, the Awd Goggie is loyal to its giant Caterpillar form and will become an bigger, more colorful red spiky caterpillar, it gains very different attacks and abilities in this new form. You can destroy the cocoon before it hatches, so the second form can be stopped, if not, it is a pretty tough enemy to fight!  

EINHERJAR

First Form:

Much like a bigger Berserker (wild humans bred for combat and war) with stronger armor and instead of two small axes like their Berserker brothers use, the Einherjar uses a giant axe.

Reborn Form:

Even after the death the Einherjar won’t stop fighting, it turns into a Draugr first, which is a zombie-fied version of the Einherjar, it behaves much like the Draugr-enemy, but it can’t re-spawn as a Draugr after being killed, as it has a third form as well.

Third Form:

Killing the zombie form of the Einherjar also doesn’t stop it from fighting, now it will turn into a powerful spirit and picks up his axe again to fight once more, instead of striking flesh and bones the Spiritual Einherjar targets and destroys the soul/spirit of its victims.

BINAYE AHANI

First Form:

These twin aberrations are also found as a duo, you can target each of the two twins separately.

Reborn Form:

The best way to deal with these monsters is trying to kill them both at the same time, as when you kill one of the twins first the second will go berserk and transforms into an even more abominable and powerful form, raging with anger and emotions after losing its other half, it gains some new lightning-based abilities in this new form.

BUBAK / TATTY BOGLE

First Form:

The first half of this monsters fight is mostly magical as it seems to be just a scarecrow hanging from the famous wooden crosses they are mostly found on in real life, in this form it just summons fear-magical attacks, illusions of your worst fears and supports the other enemies on the battlefield with its evil magical buffs.

Reborn Form:

After doing enough damage to a Bubak it will turn into a physical attacking enemy, it will jump from the wooden cross and now replaces the magical attacks for physical attacks, it’s attacks can still cause the fear-effects on your playable characters.

DJIEIEN / DEATH WEAVER

First Form:

While still alive, these macabre Lich-like spiders look pretty much like giant monstrous spiders, while they have undead features, they aren’t really undead, YET.

Reborn Form:

After being killed the Djieien’s own necromantic poison automatically reanimates its corpse into an undead, much like a lich, but instead of a human it is a giant spider. While alive the Djieien are already terrible horrors with abilities to create undead minions with their necromantic poison, but in their undead forms the creatures becomes even more powerful and harder to defeat, it can create mummy-like minions with its magical webs and only critical hits can fully destroy them.

FAFNIR / GREED DRAGON

First Form

: Vile but beautiful, that is the best way to describe these golden dragons of extreme greed. A Fafnir looks like wingless golden dragon surrounded by its own treasure and covered in precious jewels and legendary items of value.

Reborn Form:

Even after the death these dragons can’t part with their own treasures, their avarice-cursed spirits will possess their treasures and animate them into a living treasure heap. While not as powerful as the dragon itself, this form gives the Fafnir a second chance to defeat their foes and still being in control of their treasure.

GOBLIN / ELOKO

First Form:

At the start of the battle these green, envious, small humanoids start in a trio, standing on each other’s shoulders, the highest Goblin on top uses a ranged weapon to attack.

Reborn Form:

After some damage is done, one of the three goblins dies and they are now a duo, this changes their entire tactics and they use a new weapon together, they use a very long saw (used to saw through trees) together, they run through enemies both holding the saw on one side.

Third Form:

After receiving more damage the second Goblin also breaths out his last breath and joins the dead, leaving a single Goblin behind to fend for its pathetic existence, in this form the Goblin mostly tries to escape, leaving the players characters without the deserved exp, so you have to kill the Goblin before it escapes.

SPRIGGAN

First Form:

Spriggans are Goblins infected with fey-energy, this mostly happens to goblins that live in the fey forests or which have friendships with fey. They have blue skin instead of a green skin, but they are still pathetic like their goblin cousins, however when they become scared or angry they turn into their reborn form.

Reborn Form:

When angry or scared (in other words when their HP is almost depleted) these blue fey goblins increase in size and strength and become a giant version of their former self, pulsing with fey magic. Why the Spriggans gained this ability is unknown, though wizards think it has something to do with the goblins/and/spriggans envy for the size of bigger creatures, fey magic helped them in achieving this goal, though the progress of turning so large isn’t without pain and stress for the otherwise pathetic creatures. After their anger or stress has gone away the Spriggan will shrink in size again.

HEIKEGANI

First Form:

I’m still experimenting with this creature, but I think I have a start now: The first form of the Heikegani in my project is of a human-corpse which head is replaced with the body of these demonic crabs, the crabs replaced the victims head and ride the corpse like a rider would ride a horse. The reason the Heikegani are so obsessed with “wearing” human bodies is because the fact that humanoid hands can hold weapons, and Heikegani are addicted to fighting and weapons, mostly swords and katanas.

Reborn Form:

After you reduce all the Heikegani’s HP its mounted body will perish and the small crab-creature will have to fend for its own, it has some nasty painful attacks even in this form though, so it isn’t defenseless to say the least.

KERIT / CHEMOSIT

First Form:

While Kerits appear to be just Black Bears, the real creature is actually an alien parasite made up from only pink and purple tentacles, they thrive inside the bodies of bigger predators, in general most are found in bears, but big cats or wolves are also possible, some were even found in predatory fishes like sharks. Anyway, in my projects game-sprite the Kerit is always a Black Bear, just to make things less complicated. While they appear to be just black bears, three tentacles sprout from their maws, hungry for the brains of other creatures, as Kerit (the parasite) needs brains to stay intelligent and alive.

Reborn Form:

After enough damage is done to their bear-host the pink/purple tentacles burst from their fleshy-shell, the creature now appears like a messy undead bear with a LOT of tentacles coming out of its torn-off lower-maw and from its belly, the largest tentacles replaced the bears sluggish locomotion. In this new form the Kerit gains more psychic attacks, and it can hit multiple enemies at the same time.

LOU CARCOLH

First Form:

This giant horrifying snail still has its shell on its back during its first stage.

Reborn Form:

After doing enough damage, the shell will break and the entire slimy snail creature is visible, while it loses a lot of defense in this shell-less form, it gains speed, and its slime-like abilities become more powerful in this stage as well.

MOROI / VAMPIRE

First Form

: Much like a vampire from twilight (just kiddn), more like a vampire from Interview with the Vampire, a beautiful man/woman (my project has both these) holding some (blood) wine in a royal-looking glass, it is dressed in fine clothes and both the male and female Moroi look like noble and rich humans.

Reborn Form:

Doing enough damage to these undead however, will release their real forms, which are far less noble and pretty, more monstrous and hungry for the blood that was denied from them, you see, the Moroi needs blood on its skin regularly to stay this pretty and civilized, without blood it turns into the monstrous, bestial undead it was intended to be.

STRIGOI / NOSFERATU

First Form:

The parents of the Moroi, these look more like the Nosferatu (cool and actual-scary vampires for newbies) and they embrace their monstrous nature, they have the power to control the blood of themselves and others, this gives them their ability to control animals, mind-control and such as well.

Reborn Form:

While already monstrous and ugly in their first form, their true form is even more bestial, they sprout giant fleshy bat wings from their backs and their fangs grow even more out of proportion, their power over blood becomes also stronger in this form, as anger turns the Strigoi more powerful.

OTSO

First Form:

In this form they are just bears with a row of green hairs running along their backs, just a cool looking bear, while they don’t have any magical abilities in this form, nature seems to protect them and after every physical bear-attack the Otso makes, nature makes a move for it as well, this can be healing the Otso randomly, giving it more strength, or summoning plant-based creatures to aid it, the Otso has the intellect of a real bear, so it doesn’t even realizes it is being helped by higher spirits.

Reborn Form:

After you kill this beautiful bear creature however, nature will embrace the bear and merges its spirit and corpse with the plant matter around it, turning the Otso into a bear made from wood, plants and other natural material, now the bear doesn’t need nature anymore to fend for itself, as it became a force of nature, natures protector, natures soul warrior, it gains intellect of its own and many magical abilities involving plants and nature, while its first form is a BEAST, its new form is a PLANT.

POLONG / CARNAGE

First Form:

What seems to be just a bloody zombie is actually a horrible blood-parasite in a corpse shell. In this form the Polong is actually very weak, and its true form is far more dangerous.  

Reborn Form:

After you destroy its corpse-home, the Polong bursts out as an water elemental-like creature made from blood, the blood of murderers, thieves and other criminals to be exact. A creation of the vile Strigoi, these blood parasites gather more blood to grow larger and split into multiple Polongs after they absorbed too much of it. In this form its far more dangerous, it can harden its own bloody mass into red obsidian-like spikes to do some serious damage to its victims and enemies. The worst thing is that after another enemy or playable character dies the Polong can enter the corpse again and regenerate all its lost hitpoints, be sure to first kill the Polong and then any other creature on the battlefield.

POLTERGEIST

First Form:

These psychic spirits (also called Psychic Elementals) can enter and animate almost any tiny, small and medium object they encounter, I’m not so sure what object the Poltergeist in my project is found in, but it is probably some furniture like a chair or maybe cutlery.

Reborn Form:

After you destroy their inanimate shells the psychic spirit of a child burst out, it is a very vague humanoid spirit though, more like an insane mind of a child coming to life, it loses any physical attack it had in its object form, but gains powerful psychic abilities in return, if you keep it alive for multiple battle-rounds, it sometimes finds another object and becomes a physical attacker again.

DYBBUK

First Form:

While the Poltergeist is the psychic energy and soul of a paranormal child, the Dybbuk is the psychic energy of a demon, unlike the Poltergeist which can only possess inanimate objects, the more powerful Dybbuk can possess almost any living creature weaker than itself, it is hidden in random other enemies, and gives these monsters/creatures not only more HP but also powerful psychic abilities.

Reborn Form:

After you kill this other monsters the real Dybbuk bursts free, now losing any psychical attack it had and focusing entirely on its extremely powerful psychic abilities, it can also posses other monsters now, and if not protected by spells, your own heroes/characters can also be possessed if they are unlucky.  The Dybbuk’s real form is even more insane and disturbing than the Poltergeists form, much like a demonic mind gone wild.  

POLUDNICA / LADY MIDDAY

First Form:

In their first form these Nymphs of Light, sunrays and heat are still pretty, hiding their burned faces underneath their golden waving hair, almost appearing like Hesperids, the gentle nymphs of the sun or even muses.

Reborn Form:

After these ladies become angry and almost perish however, their real nature becomes apparent, their hair turns into solar-like fire, and now their burned faces become visible. Their already deadly scythes become even more deadly and become double-sided and they glow like the sun, an aura of heat becomes visible and everything around them catches flames, you really shouldn’t anger these ladies!  

RAIJU

First Form:

Being playful shapeshifters, the Raiju is mostly encountered as a tanuki/badger/small predator in the wilds, in their true form they aren’t as cuddly though.  

Reborn Form:

After being attacked a lot the Raiju sheds its fake form and turns into the lightning elemental it was born to be, just a wild mess of lightning and electricity without any form of its own. This Raiju isn’t as playful anymore as it is now angry that you hurt it, all it wanted to do is play with you, it didn’t know nor cared for its lightning hurting its playmates in the progress… These lightning elementals are very hard to hit and magic or magic enchanted weapons are needed to dispatch them once and for all, earth magic does great against them.

RAT KING

First Form:

Rat Kings are bizarre creatures, they appear to be just larger-than-usual rats with bright red eyes that collect swarms of non-intelligent rats around them to become a living swarm of rats (not bound by the tails though, like in the real folklore, I left that bit out of my version). All the rats in the swarm are controlled by the Rat King and they are more than willing to fight and die for their “King”.

Reborn Form:

After defeat is in range, the desperate little creature rapidly starts to devour all the death rats that made up its swarm, increasing the Rat Kings own size until it rivals the size of a bear, in this form I like to compare it to the Ugjuknarpak, a giant rat from Inuit myths. The rats that were still alive swarm all over the now giant Rat King like a living coat, functioning as a living armor of suicidal rodents.

RAUDKEMBINGUR / TROLUAL

First Form:

These red-painted monstrous whales make Moby Dick seem like a wussy, their biggest hobby is destroying ships which they use their entire mass upon, one of the biggest enemies in my project, the Raudkembingur in Mythica is like all the Evil Whales (they are all found in ABookOfCreatures) into one in my project, spare for the sharp-finned Sverdhvalur which most important feature (its sharp dorsal fin) I gave to the Japanese monster shark Isonade.

Reborn Form:

Sometimes when you defeat/kill a Raudkembingur it will turn into a Bakekujira/Ghost Whale, born from vengeance these ghostly skeletal whales never stop attacking and tracking their killers. Bakekujira are also found in the seas on their own in my project, but they can also spawn from killed Raudkembingur on the spot.

GASHADOKURO / BONE LORD

First Form:

A gigantic skeleton, nothing more, nothing less. They are created from the merged combined bones from the victims of starvation, a vile creation of the Horseman of Famine (Limos in my project)

Reborn Form:

After you defeat these giant skeletons, they will fall apart into a small army (5) of lesser skeletons (called Spartoi in my project).

STELLA

First Form:

These small Crown Of Thorns starfish monsters are burning with heat, in their first form they are red with almost red-hot spikes covering their bodies, Stella can control their own temperature and turn the water around them very hot.

Reborn Form:

After they are defeated however, their temperature and abilities changes to colder climates, they now can freeze the water around them and also the blood in their enemies bodies, their color changes to a beautiful blue with almost frozen spikes covering their entire starfish bodies.

SUCCARATH / SU

First Form:

See the artwork for what it looks like.

Reborn Form:

The Succarath doesn’t really change into a different form, it just spawns its children on the battlefield, and when you kill the Succarath while there is still a child alive, the soul of the Succarath will be transformed into its psychic child, morphing it instantly into the Succarath itself, you have to kill all the children first to really defeat this creature.

BOLOTNIK

First Form:

These fat, lazy and spoiled toad-humanoids sit on a mobile-throne which is carried at all times by four lesser Vodyanoi (frog-humanoids), the Bolotnik do all their magical attacks, which involve water, mud and quicksand, from their throne, using their magical muddy staff.

Reborn Form:

After you do enough damage, the poor four Vodyanoi slaves of the Bolotnik will perish and the mobile-throne will fall apart, so now the Bolotnik has to fight without it. It can still use magical attacks but also adds physical attacks to its list.

WENDIGO / WINDIGO

First Form:

The first form of the Wendigo has it hovering in the air, wearing the skull of a stag and mostly bestowing terrible magical curses of hunger and cannibalism on its victims/enemies and allies as well, which become more dangerous during the battle as they become more hungry for your flesh, it doesn’t attack physically at all during this stage.

Reborn Form:

After you do enough damage to the Wendigo its skull-mask breaks off and its true form becomes visible, the Wendigo falls from the sky and turns into a raging, hungry ghoul-like horror, instead of influencing others to become hungry it becomes gluttony incarnate itself, attacking with powerful claws and horrid overgrown teeth. You see, you can please both fans of the Wendigo at the same time! In my version it still wears the skull of a deer, but turns into a more accurate-to-the-real-myth version in its second form.

SLUAGH / WRAITH STORM

First Form:

Like a living swarm of spirits/wraiths, hovering together in an enormous tornado of souls and evil.

Reborn Form:

After you defeat the Sluagh, it turns into three ordinary Wraiths, the last three wraiths that survive, much like a spirit-version of the Gashadokuro turning into Spartoi Skeletons.

DRAUGR

First Form:

Draugr, in my project, look like veteran zombie warriors, arrows sticking from their bodies and into their eyes, daggers and swords are stuck in their undead flesh and it doesn’t seem to bother them at all, they only make great use of all these weapons and arrows inside them in their attacks and abilities.

Reborn Form:

The Draugr doesn’t change form at all, it just has the annoying ability to not stay dead for long, it has a 50% chance of resurrecting itself during the battle, and this can go on FOREVER if luck is on the Draugrs side, of course there is the option to just escape from battles.

@rtwork of Succarath and Heikegani = Paizo/Pathfinder

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

Two weird theories surrounding the Holy Blade, Elieen, and Henryk.

First off, let's do the Holy blade. Okay, so you know how in the item description it says that whatever guidance it has to offer is of a 'private' sort? What if the real reason you don't get it's guidance, is because it can sense how you would not so easily fall under its sway, it is, after all, heavily implied this is what caused Ludwig to become so bloody horrific. Perhaps these sprites, are really minor great ones, or the very least related, who further corrupted Ludwig, for Ludwig was no hunter, he was no paleblood. what if, they could sense that you were different from Ludwig in the way that you are a paleblood hunter, that has proven themselves to not only hunt beasts, but Great ones, and Hunters alike. You are a predator in a way that causes the blade to perhaps even fear you, for you are inquisitive enough to want to learn more about the blade. So it chooses to hide itself from you, it does not wish to be smelted down, it does not wish to meet its end. You are a hunter, one that likes to understand its prey, and one that is also a scholar that wants to know what has caused this madness. The blade knows this, for while Ludwig was smart, he never questioned it, he never asked himself what it really was, though deep down he could sense it. but you, you would question it. You are smart and curious, a deadly combination when combined with your effectiveness as a hunter, it probably makes you an even better hunter, then had you not been both smart and inquisitive. The blade knows this, and fears it, so it lets you use as much of it as it can without you catching too much of a whiff of what it actually is. It is alive after all, and like all living things, it very much wants to continue living. It does not wish to perish.

Second theory that isn't as cool, and much shorter, I noticed that after Hynrk dies on my second playthrough where I finally managed to both keep Eileen alive, and Hynrk dead, he drops an Heir rune. This is interesting to me because as the end result of Eileen questline, you do become her heir. The item description of the rune is as follows:

A secret symbol left by Caryll, runesmith of Byrgenwerth.

The "Heir" sees sentimentality in the warmth of blood, acknowledging this as one of the darker hunter techniques. More Blood Echoes gained from visceral attacks. Perhaps the "Heir" is a hunter who bears the echoing will of those before him.

Perhaps this both acknowledges you hunter's place as Eileen's heir, as well, as your hunter's stoic determination to succeed where others died trying. This is particularly interesting when you consider the fact that you have to defeat the bloody crow of Cainhurst, someone that Eileen was determined to hunt down. So perhaps, this is a subtle foreshadow of what was to come by the developers, and a nod to your hunter following in the footsteps of the old hunters before them. You bear their will to find the truth of the nightmare, and you will succeed where they had died.

[primrose-fr]

Praskovya and Mauve?

           Starting with Mauve she’s the clans local weirdo. her most immediately noticeable feature(though the sprite doesn’t show it) is her lack of wings. Both having been amputated when she was young, she likes to give wildly inconsistent answer as to how though whenever someone asks (ex..”I lost them in a game of poker.”,”traded them to a bear for all his teeth.”) 

           She’s the only pearlcatcher in Lowdown which alone would have been gossip-worthy without her eccentricities. Some rumor that her pearl is made of hatchling tears. She currently runs a hex shop in the Upper Slums, I say shop but it’s more of a “Give me random obscure and possibly unlawful things and I’ll make something unfortunate happen.” A dark and macabre figure who’s loyalties and desires are as enigmatic as the dragon herself. 

         Next is Praskovya! As both defacto Leader, and the outer towns representative to the Fae Kingdom that runs Lowdown, Pras is a well beloved figure. Her leadership has lead Lowdown from a group of refugees crowded around a hive of Fae isolationist into a bustling community. Pras run the city of Lowdown alongside her husband, Sven, the town Shaman and only other tundra.         She has a deep love for the dragons of Lowdown, viewing all of them with the same maternal affection one would have for their own children. Pras has been trying with increasing desperation to rid Lowdown and the Fae Kingdom of the class divide that she believes only weakens them as a people.  Their Relationship!:            The best way I could describe Mauve and Praskovya’s relationship would be......tense. Sure Pras will be entirely diplomatic in all of her engagements with the eccentric mystic but that doesn’t mean she enjoys her company in the slightest. The source of Praskovya’s ire with Mauve stemming entirely from the relationship the pearlcatcher has with her husband Sven.         As two of the only three dragons in Lowdown possessing of magic(The other being a Fae named Rose) Sven and Mauve naturally became something of friends. Now that was no problem to Praskovya in the slightest! In fact, at first she was delighted her shy, socially anxious husband was making some friends. But then they started spending more and more time together. Soon Sven was shutting himself away in his study with the witch for hours even nights on end, much to the discontent of his wife.    Truth be told there is nothing nefarious going on(for once!) between Mauve and the quiet mystic. Simply a new friend to study and explore deep, complex magical theories with without judgment. But once Mauve noticed the Ambassadors jealousy? Oh all bets were off, if the pearlcatcher has one fatal fault it’s a love of poking fun at authority. Mauve now delights in riling up the level-head tundra whenever she can. It’s all in good fun though, and despite her ceaseless pestering the dragon considers Praskovya a friend. Short One-Shot:    “Oh there you are, Prasy.” Came the sinister chuckle of a certain skull-headed witch. Praskovya heard the Pearlcatcher approach; long before she ever spoke. Her voice a low accented tone that promised nothing but misery for the Ambassador. While the Tundra woman could have left at any point she knew Mauve would find her and the torment would be inevitable.    Turning her head slightly to angle her mouth back at the witch; Praskovya spoke in her practiced dignify manner. “I thought I requested you cease referring to me as “Prasy”.” Of course she knew that would never stop her. The woman always did what she wanted, no matter the consequences it had on herself or others. ‘Dangerous, unpredictable.’ Praskovya reminded herself ‘Don’t let your guard down.’   “Oh and miss out on the way your snout scrunches up in disgust whenever I use it?“ Mauve’s lithe body wound around Praskovya’s wings to show the dragons smug expression at the corner of her vision. “Perish the thought.“ she spoke with a smirk. Praskovya wouldn’t deign that with a response.   She simply returned to reading through the many official documents laid out on her work desk. ‘The guard reports increasing activity on the southern border...’...‘New fault lines have opened in deeper caverns...’ “Prasy~” ‘King Thornbane requests an audience with the strange Fae girl..Rose..I think her name was?‘ “Pras?“ ‘Farmers report another small harvest this year...Maybe I can convince the Queen to lend us some Fae farmers? their magic always keeps their fields in top condition....‘    “Praskovya!“ The tundra was shaken out of her thoughts by a roar in her ear. Praskovya wheeled her head around to give the witch a piece of her mind. But the quiet concern in the dragons tilted head gave her pause. “Are you feeling well?“ Mauve’s normal playful deviousness was replaced with a low pressing tone. Praskovya had never heard the witch speak with such genuine emotion before, perhaps she had misjudged the woman? 

[betweenlands]

the sludgeon complex, a retrospective

aka we just did this dungeon blind today and want to word vomit about it rq. sorry if this doesn't readmore, we're on mobile

would like to keep in mind here that we're playing thru the mod rn for fun and for screencaps, so we have projecte installed and are wearing full gem armor (plus carrying a red katar). should be pretty obvious that we can't speak as to health balancing of enemies or obstacles (with ONE EXCEPTION we're gonna get to)

so! it starts kind of slow. you climb up the tower and are told you've gotta light the braziers. which is cool, except you need moss to do that, so i had to craft up a pair of shears and run into the nearest non-sludge biome to grab some. no idea what you're supposed to do if there's no moss nearby or you don't have octine/syrmorite for tools. perish, i guess?

braziers then spawn some cool lil salamander mage enemies before turning on a light-reflection puzzle. full disclosure, we dig these usually, but the weird barriers in the tower made it more tedious than fun. just let me access the whole room, devs, it's okay, you don't need to make me run up and down the tower like ten times.

anyway: beams of light get shot into a plinth and it's labyrinth time. boy howdy, the aesthetic is immediately alarmingly grungy. literally took one step into the place and was accosted by, uh, no light way to put this - wall centipedes?

the deal with the labyrinthine vaults is twofold: each layer has a key symbol you memorize, then you navigate the vault to the door and input that key symbol. each layer also has 1-3 different obstacles or enemies to keep an eye out for. rapid fire enemy review time

starting strong with Wall Centipedes. we stabbed the wall and got an egg sac. gross but neat.

shamblers! they're like. xenomorph type monsters except they shoot their tongue out of their mouth at you across the room. you're probably supposed to block these with your shield. i like them a lot, even if they're a bit brightly colored

ughhhhh the infinitely spawning sludge worm eggs are annnoyyyyyiiiiinnggg. there's another enemy on this layer, the lamprey - and it's equally kind of annoying, because it does a ton of decay and for some reason has a vaccum attack. also, really could've gone without the spike traps, those didn't really add anything.

this is where things get interesting! first off: sludge jet turrets are really cool and glowy and i think they're neat. and then we have the miniboss on this level, the barrishee. fuck, man, it's cool as HELL - this was the one thing we were spoiled on before entering and even then it spooked us. basically: there's two doors in this layer, one is a mimic and turns into a giant monster you have to fight. it's so good.

pink mushrooms that blind and decay you. i don't understand why they're pink, the color choice there is weird? this layer introduces puffshrooms, though, and dang they're cool. really nice design, and their ability is to very temporarily snag whatever you have in your main hand if you're caught in the blast. wonderful and glowy. i love em.

moooole peopleeee, mooole peopleee- okay, yeah, they're called crypt crawlers, but they're mole people. anyway, they're pretty standard enemies. sometimes the ceiling falls on you. apparently there's a second door that leads to the crypt here, but uh... we didn't find it on our first pass (at least not the "correct" way), so we're not gonna cover that yet

moving walls. this was a really rad gimmick up until we found out that the door was at the end of the corridor and got repeatedly smushed by the wall as we tried to put the correct code in. while in gem armor, it dealt a little under half our health bar. that's frankly unacceptable for damage that was literally unavoidable. just make it so that the door doesn't spawn in a place that gets you smushed, please...

AND NOW. THE PIT. OF DECAY. holy fucking moly this thing's design is rad. starts strong, with a massive clockwork ring around a pit in the center of the room; there's a puzzle element to this fight that i adore, namely figuring out that you've gotta shoot the mirrors on the hanging thing in the center of the room in order to lower a plug into the pit. aiming is a bit finicky and i think the timer on how long it takes before the seal rises again could be a bit more lenient.

then you seal the pit. then the seal gets destroyed. then the boss is... a brown tentacle. yeah, this was a huge letdown from phase one's intricate design; having the sludge menace be just sort of a gunky brown tube is so boring after the wildly cool design of the pit seal itself. hell, half the normal mobs in the sludgeon look cooler. the puffshrooms look cooler.

after i finished slapping the tentacle around, i went back upstairs to find some cool things and some not cool things.

cool: while grabbing some of the neat ladder blocks, it turns out we'd missed some in-between passages that lead to the crypt. ran into it, got a sword, and ran out. the winding walkways were very fun to traverse!

not cool: those fucking sludge worm eggs kept spawning for some reason. also, i couldn't pick up the alcoves or the dungeon door puzzle key blocks, which made me very sad because i wanted them for decor, dang it!

as a last note, there's also mobs - called ash sprites - that come out of the urns in alcoves sometimes when you break the aforementioned urns. behavior/ai wise, they're basically just vex but with a cooler design and they don't die after a set period of time. they can get annoying. i would very much appreciate if they moved just a bit slower so that they were easier to kill.

7/10 the barrishee and the first pit of decay phase slapped so hard that everything else paled in comparison