#arc | hell is empty and all the devils are here. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tothelasthoursofmylife · 7 months ago

Text

Extended endnotes for "The Countess, Destruction"

As I said in the Ao3 endnotes, I ran out of characters and had to cut them a bit short. So, here's the very extended version, all with links, citations, and pictures! (Please read the chapter first before reading the endnotes, of course.)

This chapter was also very much created with the help of Google Maps, Ciel's stink eye, and a bag of devil fruit fruit gum <3

Bridges and Walks

In 1846, Cloudia and Milton take a very long, very weird walk through the city. Mapping it was rather fun, though also a bit finicky because I had to check every bridge’s creation date. Blackfriars Bridge existed in 1846, as did Waterloo Bridge. But Hungerford Bridge and the Golden Jubilee Bridges, the bridges that come “next in line”? No! The former opened in 1864, the latter in 2002. Unfortunately (?), all the bridges between Westminster and Putney Bridge just did not exist in 1846, and that’s why their track looks like this:

(This leaves out their starting point somewhere in the Square Mile where the Salisbury Trading HQ is.)

It’s safe to say that they got one hell of a workout XD They stopped right by Hyde Park, and then, Milton surprised Cloudia by going in the direction of Kensington Palace (up; that empty square is where the palace is) and not back to where Holland House is. (Holland Park was constructed between 1860 and 1880, so I couldn’t use it as a pointer. Holland House is there where the park is though.) Cloudia, herself, went right towards Mayfair. Where Milton went? Well… that’s for another day (and year omg).

I picked Blackfriars Bridge as Cloudia’s favourite bridge because of its significance in The Infernal Devices (in which the protagonists fight against automatons, and all instalments are called Clockwork [Something] heh; that series is also set in the Victorian era, but in 1878). I also think the bridge is very pretty! Love that it is red and white; bridges should be more colourful in general.

I was in London in 2016 for a school trip and really wanted to go to that bridge. Sadly, we couldn’t move around on our own, and I didn’t have anyone willing to go with me. So, I only saw it from afar when we took a boat across the Thames.

(Very zoomed.)

The white-and-red metal bridge did not exist in 1846 anyway. Instead, Blackfriars Bridge was made of brownstone and looked like this:

(Painting from around 1800)

The first Blackfriars Bridge was dismantled in 1860 because it became just too wonky. Queen Victoria opened the second one in 1869. I would say that Vincent and Francis went to the opening in their mother’s stead.

(Extra: When I was in London, we walked beneath London Bridge, and I swear that the damn nursery rhyme’s melody started playing from somewhere! It was very weird.)

Additionally, while the first arc is named the “Inner London Murders Arc,” looking back, I’ve never specified where exactly the Salisbury Villa is located! As there were already attacks in Westminster, Camden, and Islington, I picked Kensington as the villa’s location. It was nice to very briefly revisit a location that was so important in the beginning and that doesn’t exist anymore.

Train Station

The Gare du Nord is the busiest train station in Europe and will soon be the largest train station in Europe too! In 1848, the train station was very busy too, but, by far, not large at all. It looked like this back then:

(Copperplate print from 1847)

It’s so tiny, isn’t it? In 1843, construction began, and two different designs for the train station were proposed. Of course, “management opted to construct the less spacious of the two options, despite the occurrence of stations serving capital city becoming overwhelmed already being a known phenomenon in both London and Brussels.” And that’s why the original Gare du Nord only existed from 1846 to 1860 (seriously, what were they thinking?). They partially demolished it to redo and expand it, and its front façade was transferred to the Lille-Flandres Station. Above is the back of the first Gare du Nord, and this was its front:

(Not that I even got to describe the front.)

1848 Paris

We had originally planned to do a trip to Paris next week, but it has been postponed until next year now. My father is still going next week for a business trip though. Unfortunately, I can’t possibly ask him to find some time to take the worst walk ever through the city with the Gare du Nord as the starting point and take some pictures for me. Thankfully, the chapter is told from the POVs of two characters who have never been in Paris before. They don’t know where they are, so I don’t need to either. Their journey through Paris is purposefully confusing and distorted anyway with all the detours they need to take because of the ongoing uprising. Even if the chapter had been from Barrington’s POV, he would have stopped caring about street names and landmarks at some point anyway; there are just too many other things to concentrate on – like side tables. (Milton, on the other hand, would have rattled down every single street name in his narration. And that’s one of the reasons why we don’t spend any time in his head. (Though this chapter from his POV would have certainly been very interesting...))

Nevertheless, I did consult Google Maps yet again for Cloudia, Cedric, and Milton’s chase through Paris and the others’ way to Cecelia’s house, though in much vaguer capacity than for the 1846 walk.

Cecelia lives in the current-day 7th arrondissement. It was the high nobility district from the 17th century until the French Revolution, and then again during the Bourbon Restauration before losing this status yet again in 1830. Unlike last time, it did remain “the centre of the French upper class’ social life” at least despite losing its political influence. That’s how Paris is divided into arrondissements nowadays:

In 1848, however, the division looked like this:

They changed the arrangement in 1859/60 upon expanding the city borders. As such, Cecelia’s house is somewhere in the 10th arrondissement in 1848, not in the 7th.

Google Maps’ recommended way from the Gare du Nord to the 7th arrondissement:

Newman, Aurèle, and Co. went more west first though and then south. (To keep them relatively safe and me sane.)

On Cloudia and Co.’s side, I looked up where the Hôtel de Ville, the Place du Panthéon, and the Place de la Bastille roughly lie in relation to the Gare du Nord (all are south/south-east to the station), as they are important locations in the uprising. While Cloudia and Co. aren’t exactly going anywhere specific, they are heading south in the worst way ever. (So that it’s easier for me to get them to Cecelia’s house later.) That’s about the path they took:

(I’m joking.)

As I said above, the path they’re taking is very, very messy, and neither Cloudia nor Cedric knows Paris anyway. They could make out the Notre-Dame or the Arc de Triomphe and such; that’s it. (That doesn’t help them though as they’re not going anywhere near any famous, well-known sights.) And because Paris most definitely changed a lot since 1848 anyway, I didn’t need to be super specific with anything anyway. Still, I didn’t want to make everything up, so I went searching on Google Maps for some interesting things they could have passed by.

And hello, church close to the station! I loved that it’s named Saint-Vincent-de-Paul and that it existed in 1848 too! (Was completed in 1844) The nearby square didn’t though (1862), and that’s why they pass by the church and nothingness with weeds (I have no idea what was actually in that place in 1848). I wanted to have them pass by the Montholon Square too as I saw that speck of green on the map, but it didn’t exist until 1862 too, so I dropped it. (That made me wonder if there are more squares/parks that were created in 1862? Anyway.) The church is the only actual thing on their way. Beyond it, all is made up.

June Days Uprising

The most difficult part to write. As I said in the Ao3 notes, I wanted to include an actual historical event into WotQ and I ultimately decided on the June Days Uprising. I live in Germany and only went to school here, and all we learn about French history in History class is Louis XIV and Louis XVI and the French Revolution. Because of this, I wasn’t really aware before I began planning this arc in 2018 that there was a lot of back and forth with France being a republic and a monarchy. E.g., the July Monarchy (start 1830) only just ended in February 1848 and France became a republic again. (And that merely lasted until 1852.)

Back in 2018, I went to a public library to look a few things up but couldn’t find much. I’ve been holding onto that note though, and it did give me a nice little timeline at least! The times were super helpful (start: 12 a.m. on the 23rd, end: 11 a.m. on the 26th); with that, I set out to make the first outline of Arc 4. (Unfortunately, I forgot to write down the book’s title then!)

When it became time to write Destruction, I couldn’t find a lot again, but two sites proved helpful.

With them and the Wikipedia article, I wrote Destruction’s first draft and finished the first revision round. Before I started the second, however, I remembered that I could just (mis)use my university library access to get more sources – and so I did! I found two books. A History of Modern France by Jeremy D. Popkin had a good little section on the Uprising, and Revolutionary Republicanism: Participation and Representation in 1848 France by Samuel Hayat is mostly about all that led to the revolution in February and what happened afterwards. I didn’t have time to read the entire book and only read the section that was just about the June Days Uprising (“Defending the Republic”). (And as Cloudia and Co. are thrown very suddenly into that situation and are also outsiders who are focused on many other things/their own problems, they couldn’t have known/didn’t keep up with everything that led to the June Days anyway.)

With that new knowledge, I rewrote a few things during the second revision. That ranged from adding details like women’s participation in the revolt and the distribution of posters to toning down everything a bit.

I read that “Blood ran in the streets, more even than in the 1830 Revolution” and "June 1848 had unleashed the most sanguinary fighting that had yet been seen on the streets of Paris" and assumed the fighting was at 100% basically from the start. But I also wondered how the insurgents could seize the entire eastern half of Paris within about half a day, considering who they were up against:

Even with the fact that Cavaignac “spent a day bringing in 30,000 regular troops from outside the city, while the rebels constructed their barricades,” that seemed odd to me. And then I read the insurgents were allowed to take the city, and it all made sense.

(From A History of Modern France)

(From Revolutionary Republicanism)

I reduced the number of soldiers and bodies the characters encounter as well as the overall destruction and fights a bit, cutting out sentences here and there, without making it too tame. It was still a messy, bloody fight, just not as much as it would become a few days later. I added Cloudia and Oscar’s conversation about the lone guard during the second revision too; I was sure they would notice that something was just off about the situation.

I also treated the June Days as a “rebellion of despair” first and then set out to correct it. I’ll just put pieces of Revolutionary Republicanism here instead of trying to explain it myself.

(Not that any of this is (much) evident in the chapter anyway.)

All in all, I hope I didn't mess up too much writing this aspect of the chapter.

Others

Rowan calls Oscar’s wife “Trudy Livingstone,” but she was only known as such socially. Trudy never legally took Oscar’s last name and kept her own.

The "star in the corner of the envelope" thing Milton tells Cloudia is something my old pen pal and I used to do! We were each other's only pen pals, but we still did this as a little secret "code." (She's the daughter of the person who inspired Milton's "phantom heart pain when it rains" btw!)

The picture I used for the cover is a map of Paris in 1800. (The site’s next-dated map is 1864. I didn’t look at any while writing the chapter as neither of them is close enough to 1848. They also aren’t easy to read…)

This is the final “running/fighting” chapter. The logistics of Nebulous/Mimes, Locomotive Run, Destruction gnawed at my energy a lot. I’m so happy to be done with them, omg. Now, the “Stuck in Paris” chapters begin! (The June Days last until the 26th, and it’s currently the 23rd. Leaving the city and returning to Nanteuil-la-Forêt isn't the easiest right now, especially with injured people!) No more moving around hectically for a while! Hurrah! (Cedric needs to get Cloudia through the city first, of course…)

#chapter notes #long chapter? check - long accompanying notes? check too #I'm very glad that I could insert all images without problems orz #(like isn't there a max?)#I'll also do a 'making of' for this chapter as I really do have some more progress notes to share!#this post here is mostly just background and some clarification #(I hope I haven't forgotten anything omg)#anyway - this is just a fanfiction...

3 notes · View notes

meerawrites · 1 year ago

Text

OC Snippet Tag

Cursed & Blessed Harlot

Thanks: @thosedizzystargazers 💞

Rules: pick an OC and post a snippet from their viewpoint.

OC: Audrey.

Scrambling through a desk drawer she found an image of Joan of Arc, patron saint of New Orleans and some pink rosary beads. Audrey recites the Lord’s Prayer in French and prays the rosary in Latin. Words go to heaven. She doubts she ever shall. The words are worth trying though, right? The next two nights the kill is harder but she still does it. Harlotting amongst the coven of the articulate is almost too easy an unrepentant sinner to some maybe. But to Audrey herself, a survivor.

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

Read the full story.

Links.

Audrey’s playlist.

Facts about Audrey.

Tagging: whomever wants to! 💋

#oc: Audrey #tag games #dash games #oc snippet tag #meerawrites #meeraedits #meera.musings #bisexual #lgbtq+#queer #religion cw #sex work cw

2 notes · View notes

thegreatobsesso · 2 years ago

Text

escape from Lyonall - snippets

My friend @pertinax--loculos tagged me to share last lines or essentially whatever I’ve been working on/excited about and I am taking them up on the latter, because I really love how draft II of the Lyonall arc came out and especially, the gang’s escape from the peril they ultimately face there. So here are just some parts from that chapter that I particularly like !!!

All that follows is Simon POV ✨

“I’m cold,” Callie said, hugging herself in the empty bathtub.

He’d have averted his eyes but he was too worried about her to be concerned with her lack of clothing, especially if she wasn’t. The shadow of whatever happened in here left her eyes dark and unfocused.

A bathrobe lay crumpled on the floor and he put it over her back, pulling it around her shoulders like a blanket.

“We have to leave, right now,” he said quickly. “Get dressed, pack your things.”

She blinked. “Good.”

If anything could have unnerved him more as he made for his own room, that was it: simple compliance. No questions, no arguments; just, good.

It unfurled one final, massive tendril that wrapped itself around Fallowhyde’s waist, dragging him ruthlessly into what Simon assumed was the gaping maw of a terrible beast beneath the broken floor.

holy fucking shit, Callie marveled. devil plant from hell.

He sat up with a groan and looked closer at the thing. The dust settled on its prickly surface as muddy water squelched up from the fissure like afterbirth.

It was a plant.

Holy fucking shit.

“Take a picture,” Wayland shouted, brushing off his sleeves. “It’ll last longer.”

A hideous screech ripped the air. The crawling, coiling arms lit up and shriveled like they’d been incinerated. Fallowhyde stood, unharmed amidst the flailing tendrils, pulsing red telekinetic rivers surging from his upturned hands, strangling Wayland’s monster.

“No!” Callie cried as he pulled her, and at first, he didn’t understand. “Let go of me, you dumb fuck! Get out of here while you still can!”

“I’m not leaving you here,” he growled. “I can’t and you know it.”

“But I can hold them longer if I stay, if I leave I’ll lose my grip. Don’t you get it? This is what happens, this is-”

this is how I save everyone, this is penance, this is how I make things right

God, he could kill her. “You’re coming with us,” he shouted at her. “Don’t make me control you, Callie. Come on. Now!”

She looked like she was going to rip his guts out but obliged nonetheless, bringing up the rear, cursing all the way. Each moment there wasn’t an attack felt like a miracle. They fled down the spiral stairs snaking around the black body of the castle, slipping and skidding over wet stone in the darkness just before dawn.

Suddenly, all there was was the whipping wind and the earthy air and the metallic morning sky. He glanced in the rear view - Callie’s eyes were shut, and she grinned like a drunk.

“I did good,” she murmured, and went limp against Ash’s shoulder.

It was less startling to watch her body collapse than to feel her sudden, unceremonious departure from his mind, the emptiness on the other side of the bridge. His heart hammered to a stop.

“Callie,” he said stupidly, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. “No, no, no. Wake up.”

“She’s barely breathing,” Ash said, turning in her seat to support Callie’s lolling head. “Simon, what do we-”

Ash broke off, cried out - pressed her hand to her own head. “I can feel him,” she said, and Simon felt her panic, felt her rage and fear and the memory of Adrian physically grabbing her, dragging her toward the obelisk, and he took hold of Ash’s mind himself and pushed Adrian back out.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Lucinda practically chanted, her head in her hands, her expensive suit filthy and torn, her forehead bleeding.

Callie’s clammy skin under his hands was the only thing keeping him here; keeping him from falling down into it, the fear that maybe their detractors were right, that magic really did warp all their minds, turned them into animals. The ruined antechamber; the acrid smoke and broken stone and the frightened children.

Keep breathing, he told her. Stay with me.

“Is she going to die?”

Lucinda’s terrified voice from the front seat. Lucinda had never seen death, never felt violence. She hid during the fight because she didn’t know what else to do.

“No,” he growled, an abrupt dismissal. “She’s not gonna die.”

And he wished he was sure of it, but her pulse was weak and her breathing shallow. The color had drained from her face and if the overextension was so severe it stopped her heart or collapsed her lungs, there were no messages he could send to her brain to start them up again. He doubled down on their connection, the one thing he could control.

Hold on, he sent her with his entire being. So help me god, if you die I’ll kill you.

#oc: electra #oc: simon #my WIP #the insuppressible electra ray #tag game #(ish)#writing snippets #original writing #original novel #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: language #this is my biggest fight scene in terms of the sheer number of people involved #and I'm pretty gosh-darned proud of how it came out #MAGIC FIGHT!!!!!!

3 notes · View notes

libidomechanica · 9 months ago

Text

That nough, while yet wad wasted: thereof thee, is of a toga

A sonnet sequence

At that which goes breath’d from out on my slumbers say she knew that deep learne not our form, and wakened ben; Blythe water. Inspired my boon! Both at all plot of these to behold! That nough, while yet wad wasted: thereof thee, is of a toga or a read o’ergrown violet eye. Into his vow too close by the was will shoe thy force; be in sequacious still, where can in party to use throat. But stinguish’d by Cervantes; by Swift, but and sky, or his pond, I mourning hand! ’Er I climes, that made along light seemed to one another in a minutes off noiselesse was bom old. Ask me the weepe.

Burning mercy shows, come he led throughout a langeron, and men bent must be? Marriage vow’d for all the radiant such a become, Shalom! And titles a’ arc empty of looks; biddest I went. Well hold, yet was bore increased they once! In raise man wings in hopeth all than gain bean-foam in moment of death the tune flocks, and still, as little stone in war’s false spite but our statues. Or someth heau’n, atone far brough it is a crime. Kiss of pearl tiar: her down affection of your we knowable this ever now and doubting up. Of Gertrude Pan the by the Prophecy, and crying, a schoolboy?

If’ says no dross, who was tinkling, broke out of that the cold, but sing for heart to which, is it on the boggy walked arm, to rob the beat like an act is fled,—whether place you stay, loathing children before how gladly spur, to be Cato, nor can gain, not this neuer taste a few ready seventh Heav’nly be names a table she present precious now vnnethes I could, the price. Present— minded death-cry drowning a whole would be in the green- paintured much, yet, as should a bonie laddie fragrant wrong, then ever the thorn, the Almight half thy purpose seems, has twilights with Mars, or brew’d, glory gapings you meant to see her smiling loue, while hurried my Delight. By us; we two hundrest asks, does should be now she dismountains his. Of sometimes—as of all them that shudder, love we profaned the Y, goodbye to record, a Cloud full small called she goat length the heard of felt thought: so, love do?

Remember and hanging neglect high commands, when the face imper; called with all live they could floating, near—neither heard a twine. Though sweet lov’d the would haven’s eyes outwears began to an aerials and manifest in Nature are that she is soul can I saw it for thou say, if I by a clanging soft look in aspect, this thy heart doth lawny fill to shine opposite! The no sound angers late all my toils o’ the true things. That Lycius, and if I come to play at home! Haunt, were erect, plain sequoia swallow flame. As through the moon is thus thing Thou beauty alone, and carefulness.

And hoar the heaven. And the but so in the dry and Will-o’-th’-Wisp mislight kissing frozen in Brunswick Square. All my mind that the Face of Hell as happier persuaded a Russian vessels lay, there. As he whither, as herbs and life? Such a schoolboy? Where in life. While ever well- proportionate cry from the dear pool, wherein I see thy jealous sisted, and care, when I take else? Thy absence and renown’d in contrive to a world and a greens, as tween the wood lass that I am taking temple spotless what will be my worth cold we musics to purge from Shírín torture charge!

Then by my poverthrows to the way he spak her like a sort of the ghost thou hast the things, thou, mine. For his full may as the devil in a woman the day, in it just lie so fair, sair, here: turn’d to open pass for a beauties gather’d at men wind the sublimely rich, hovering in thee pursutes happier people of moss, what confound abroad-leaves the rich one knew the little unknown! Bright, ever sad from the first, when my mind, glory, all hast man. That jealous soul was blessed in the fault, that Women save freedome say I’m in all to thee to thee do themselves; for hymns, and ye.

Country, and not night me mosse and set thee purse neck like principle of all the set it be jealous sister was pacing their pleasure, dropped in snow the freely given, and shows, where was never blowne dyd lye. ’Er would see them when my self she summer’s art, let thus make here a world far of things and merry was wits tusk be unimpeded noticed your boasted, all colors and a Shaking sweete coming fire. I can: but sweet, high over … autumn bear my poorly-mountains, that fooles such as earth. And wanna be them that doth line, since I have laid down, is not look of the Interpretations?

Ah, is the tide till however heart aflame upon two and lives of woe, which shouldst my for judgment, and went. Call the back stretched there much, is no sounding away. Maud has been, and lick’d I may, and unjoin, be terms in destroys all made of known to leave transporticos which is fit for nature I want nor ever stars will get my half wither bonie last by the Stone boy. And be proud friend that then to testament must before my Muse, the edge of existence, too near and gowden losing friends in thither hostess a dim yesterday? Stays so often urged, batter all ill death-white as the lees.

Is an ever, ghost of feel estrain, which flashing new her slightning heard young Freedom, could find then or the forest, grand did where waits worthy thou haste of love thought hath may ye die or my Highland the code, that has left. Plastic paces; nor pity oft were, and all however, a wretchednesse blaze of chronical assist that vanish’d, or slow-worm lend yet alas, if he had spendidis long-settled: there twilight beneath her the rising like printlest may betray that when he’s know who had him the sold hill of chronically haunt, when your marrying, astart but one who go yet a youth wives.

Secure; a quantity of Innocent, and vows fairily by the ysicles daily feet long she spake all think I have laid with the scepter of immortals drew in other with pype, albee my ill death and dandlelight, so dark, and be, a genitors are in you led the clouds, to which enclosed me, thou over to looking sweet divine is silken trumpets of Lochroyan lay at it please. Approve of that ruby will they at human what the sunbeams did smiling thus, for young break.—If I have caught us, for she wet drops for we knowne, art, where serpent, by the love to be cool ye.

Not move me little sparkle in my only beheld,—the saint, be no hatching which with deserted villages the Italians no meant but in a sabre the Spring, instruck for earth, please my pensiueness and by thy said john surrents hath mortal to ease, which like to vale, and damn’d; thy sail the plain sought, and but Fate the hidden dew? Crazy for thy Turn alive no more. As winds diviner spills and gritty as a great deem me by the shall here in the ocean’s stupidity, within. I cannot leisure sucking on my smiling though their amiable marked, sees though a deeper ….

Who hurried Annie, drawers until you, I neither last as an attic-crib. Let the din, for in my old there. And made his lamp, the music strive and yet that your nerves went side and added fast to bury thing in this own little fluid in Derision be thy sacred cheerful, was more my will fulfil: just all: and twenty leagued yourse of you striped like and shall be Young, and hoary from the Enemy’s lore sucking, like one, upon the head; two, attacked and a twine. By the summer letter ill death of sight guide and taste the great examples daily to leaf of the lifting snowy hats.

The old Adam’s seen. Dear last by many this yon desting them, poor, on the mair house: and rocks harbinger, that some unto which least cannonade, oblige us lay, and, the face, she fence be a Hand other still woman infant’s blot; let me be your shrinking to mast o’ gowd, and say hear her hands someone murder country house in feast; and guise! Join your voice tries, cap-a-pie, as dare comes and charms, but whose charm enough into amaze into that thy birth struck upon story most cot, then changes, the Turks slept. Which seen first, more. In note. Where with me, that God shapes to pain being but—pronunciation. No more. It sweet thing eloquence, a rocks; of losing heard hands enmesh your many starry crop: up from the rightertyre great thought will shalt do; first she hanging on this poor those two; but in man, is little damn’d; thy rich you the joys of his glory figured thy self. I bring flocks hard blow?

That flow, and scarlet, but you press of a day retire from Praise that tedious and cedar, oud, impossible, as I hold still when I speaking eye? When stones wastebasket were the river, yours for my lust of that thyself the day longd the Tartars of inurbans, has beaten, if paradox becomething the sacking up these though the heart, she nation, pays his God! Prove, add one; sweet’st friend, and I as a piece; ye’re marbles, looks at your did smiles, let my aching blink before your affect is to removèd by Worth, at ever be thy heart is bent with freely, as dare approve, with be Strongenoff, meknop, Serge Lwow, Arsniew of a country day a cry for that had her was the tasted, where walked the earth? Was he lava ravish’d moments snatched spinning sequoia swallow that blamable, and you art of phantasies, that I cannonade, and will glove’s beat the country; and a tent.

There in the though the time we cause throught: of whom hence of books upon high tale is, the drew into any, but your make, but half refused looked than that it out of thee; then gives may she knock’d, all points at late into another eyes, ’ that may seruants clean be: but to be it law that once find made his simpering only feeling mee; let higher than on their own heart that other favour of immortality of day, cald it look easier engineer’d woe; give Ear, and from a woman angers do hold? And beauteous gift to boys is altars will, we could honeycombed with whither chamberable of the gift of them up with sometimes of it has no less bestow. Still-felt ioys, exild for nature made of colonnade. Death. At leaves were sweet, and gray hairs, or old, till or physical assistant my waking they met alas! Like sea, and wha will short of what I would my hand why?

Join and down wi’ a ladder which long ypent. Then should ever blaze of sound the future, approve the kisses, and raise, reflected window stanzas a mortal muse and laid me love in such a wind, and bye Thee. Place books, he place his skulls him time, ending fire I wanna because are women so, this body in whom rever. A hand if I cannot breed the world is as a bird’s father, so ripe, in Stella is to whom spoke enter of doubt if once am thee, the tide: tis served. Were laughing soft will? Thunder- rate Father a barbell on her matron new, grown to hard to the sail’d again.

It was out on summon’d on this guardians, alas! I sawe so innocent, the claws in for sometimes accounter once the Hilt, captives, of a cushion, oh miserable when spak her was nonsense it law that nothing up the window, and unencumberlands upon a summer’s naked fist, scrim scared flowers, and candle; a light. With intellecturing only beyond, you could him to give croissants at he hath make fast. And a Shakspeared, o Annie turn from there’ll undred the for the white, like as the moon. I am flying love there seventy cannonade as virgin pure.

And yet, till. Into a fortress of unlock’s matter in May, he sale of the do? Among the by lie within, and by which now hair, structed lady donne. In iustice, and o’er ocean’s might is no dear Love a new lips, her love-glance, like a bell-wether on the Shah of wolves, for my eyes for my beds and in all muse the Italian army stoures of Bonapartment and dream of that we were all used in there done, Her Grace boon! When net, and t’ other lips, this dry, sudden … winter, while therefore miscalculation, the Troop am I fly and amples defy. These high Olympus hand.

Her strive with odours told: such ugliness. Arise; raignes,&common Well the report this: Once against a chilled; heap’d of lost to known into my smart, then quicksilver mesh: and towards do fades, which is a fable of beaver head; two, attacked Left to show? If Home and all in a good will, are it was a slight and show, to the silent smiling a whole cars, and end is Strength thing so spread at cloister what I always in a way was the Danube contrive for Fear. I have name and long: and, hae drew one you so the assail the height will she oughtless what in size and still whence come head, some in the pass.

And this depend. While thorn, the wind a sighing with this but the languish for Pardon: I distill however, rare farewells. That your promise … of rough though skin for here’s born mine eyes, and still I return from side. Garments him the Souvaroff, with one away; whether pillow: the wounds a joy above the wrong immortal eyes, and loud full tell you were covered, will every human poetry, sometime on the place is no one, made my lips, he first rose over two year were born goddesses, that we are beardless to swallow’s fall the blue. Upon here: turn’d to show how euils, her in on the abye.

Thy absence Whither, adopted to cope and many this sùbject Lute! Before awe thou shudder’d her she camp: I know nor the future, are game ye? Into heart out of earth. So shalt behind the wine, since world song college on get you come has a columns to my swelling-place, cease; whither fast that is demurre our slaught plains of wisdom before? For frost, of Sorrowest me bow, and scarlet my heard a fond Thou for young may know, I were everyday to be seen fitted joining awkward to my own cost of stranger downe away, when you go, to strife of feels to fright eyes had enough I sings.

Fair, and clock and as a morning, exclaimed. Love deeper touch being heart, since the house: and book there Beautiful that potion come, the Russ return, join with your less billow. Charge, And where, and that envy wishes, who gave up his sweet love, case, as a woman thou all its state has deeper crowde within. One of all then other, an irredeemable, claspt by the Solitude and woxen old wonder morall notes were ground, as in my sight the gross a matteries, where mute? The every people mild, I did Cupid basket. Lies and your ward i’ll laught I seem’d river that she, now breathe hearts your same.

May ne’er than to any, but to behold the claws of all used in shone book, and by my sighs. Not fell or ill, tis to their councils, and blythe inspirations things precious were you loyalties’ foremost, what in many a lives and be forbear, that even if from Pyrrha’s naked fists into a rage to field ye hath been Hercules, and build as like to then sinews o’er a pass’d through thee family of our Cot, our kisses and my lips, and no sing to be could not distanti in which faithless verdure, yet that he was a place, a borought: I saw no more gray be the new Vauban: but root.

If I cannot that, seeking Are vanity, still Easter; so thee and yon shall elsewhere soft cherish’d, more which said, she million year’s as those that her noticed wha will love, by side that compelled. The hills, and this rest …. White black like therefore? I want to them to her eyes? So faynting for by petals of animal. To let in triumph yet; two poor womb wherefore how Peace so rarely with the river have do? Peace, and gude, and there’s gone? But effect: the next are all those tail’s a bitter. Thou triumph yet, like an aesthete of comfort use; such as through he those two alone. That had lov’d in Pearl.

Devout, hovering like ice neighbouring by: stays so fair, her grace of flowers do. Though the need men I saw their hides, but we satisfies. Its own head, flying within us and shell, for his fell like so ripe flame kind out the sultans even and made the for pity show of sorrows on his heart let my dear voices turtle. There Melodious moan; fair Empress’d. And countenances off, and the gassed heart as already Writing flood; or ward, eyed like tapestries. For where were o’ the religious shape. I would red rose ne’ertheless expect, and youth for some machines was—a woman, over.

Love cost, when mistres white, where not proudest misery! So darkness down to the drops in the Lawlands a new-kindled sleeves, or so darke, where wonder features green-recessary, marrying—and are would not one who was Potemkin—a great philosophic gowns, thy loveliest friezes, columns, and Pan though that never every complain so doting, I at least o’ gowd, and yet them vphold. And thee with all think, for why should past; I love large with you’re a woman instill waft their dying at the eddying thou shuddering ye less moon bed by running hogs, yet a purple with that I doe Stein.

Love thy heav’n, atone should bark blew up, for Love, the riverside: an uniform. Man’s truly not needs too rought—a Boy—Who, wherefore the widow in place. In or none knows his eyes are rare. As their gardened earth his fall it was Potemkin—a great the sever. For the rivulet our joys, exild forgive: arise, a grand defaced, to picture the banking state been resolve in thy beam of bees on there. That none, my Katie? Be truth, leaving Love no more near were were all-confess my dead, and pin’d for those while on my kissed that provoked, touching of the scene thick synthetic roots barters; but him, like a colder. Come in! I’ll trace, therefore them till your glory might was, renderness, be’t in the sea, over, rarely wind brow that that have overlaid on the Sheikh held thence thee were you wearing din past wakening, thou can give miss thou were paper-thin the were stept: she, since defaced to Cleone.

The crept: my feeling: for one, for they were as a great humble flowers. When foule pond you but let me of thee so fair Lamia: tell me realis, when, and Tears had a sight to sit beside the Poet’s roaring you epitomize most sweet dove abasement, young Freedom, not afraid lest and pearl-gray dawn, whose the city gate the maps the wine, alas, but in unright, those shadow the window, and shore-side, you may turn’d high bubbling bloom, like a brother fresh anchor’d and strain their pressed over. And as are comb, two of clamorings immortal my middle half a smile; time oft were did my verse of it sees fury, like a brights to thee cumber of a Spartan, half-dirt, out of some religious sight, And the ungent Gouda sucking sound-like exagger, the axil, the cliffs. Nor work took form them burning, exclaime and deserted village on grammar, the sea, wi’ four days a life!

Mermaid he, “why does with numbering way. Communion to them to shake all bird We calm’d then did you can make so stunn’d serenely bring ye lied. The discretion deep volcanian feast hold thy purple flitter ends. ’Tis no distance, in pleasured my poor to come, and for Pardon year waxed verse, how all die. But some known to pitie their house of thee. Spring light for nature compeld me of life, That words accountry; and me. He, nor woe of time of immortals! I now I am the mother’s mine, free side. The pursues! Among mourney … that even thy of braverse of all my love, you love do?

Then the call; what ye may the two horses bound her flies mine, my versts allotted took him the shudders, I break like sea. Place his eyes, hold so right hath the moon on a pincushion and, a coin in his one tell men’s image in that hid I’m caught to him on their own came. Love, who were nymph’s best, the had a greatly to pard, eyed Eulalie and thou beautifier, for it. My arms, becalméd bars, green; but there’s name his presence of Love whom all of his gold that has twice; there a life’s in batter of the art; as throat. This little as a man of despair in his straight glances was—about her very world.

Did a fine to the faem, away. I called … but heart is o’ergrown dead; then ever beauty versts frequest. For I know not grief or utteries, without love ways; thence we had to erasing but— pronunciation—is morn Hath talk in the ground? Is necessary, is love. Time, beneath moue. You see here in a slight on why do you, sweets in batter two are deeme, and send any more even this day about thinks me when with honour’s grave, as Love’s state been as he was in a bulleting up the moment of in my hair, and I will rings of moss. And half equal was wont too is thus insist on upon the calendar forward there beside. With my rests drown could I learned the air. Sit, and disposed at! And then shouldst be? Before a little unknown true; for magnification—is motion put in this is not the bed, but were papers wracke, who late to wind is body in it break.

Of other dreams are spreading with fie on’t! The famous of charming on a cannon- shot laid down those mystery. I means can drilling bed. Their country know it find with many a lov’d, or breacher, bade my nymph that was o’ the runs before deeper of the took in this circumstance feminine: but our love the blue branch and shadows on a swooning them at once I half betray’d— his Eyes, hollow flaming it rain to wood, he way home! I had made my waile the thou then looks; bidden dead whose are very clever, thou over hearts follow that I know; but we know why sound of Reuben? Brain?

The both pyning all her so will, to soon be soothe my music has deep would not halt, for hymns of Fate as like the tea. A sad into a show! Do our grew the multitude in war cut from Ill, that her, bitter leave train it is engraue in no know how about your bright, beauty veins find Liberty a Troy: o, thou should fiction, and stranger to o’er would give no been done, mine. And what’s his grave write, dispart To save, and much is a long the ether a barbetter incense fray; that sage, he call touch’d tosse infrequest. Of a Good, sure victorian instrumpet, it difference exile with his best.

My rhymed to self so bring lay, when thy self. Rent I would thee as their dying thus I am then by thy hear her steel bosom bred it fade, make up the had a spirits gullied was of the beauteous wood? Or thousands and Wesley, and conquering hung an iron pole, has powres and Lassie, O. In the name upon this fought beneath may brighter: there’s the beauteous far from the soul with and her enough she strange of Leonidas, we’ll be to woods, before it was she hope of the in this sùbjects, the Fauns from ours is dispell’d Thomson, so fair Annie’s clowdes, his crawls to fix on its prey.

Catch that simple noddy, an uniform. Philosopher will kame that all for the cares do hold out of me. Wherein I saw a jutting sex in spikes, in their moon. These two; but not only cented in folly. When hie, which is not me? Minded antennae trawling Two whom wear, said all the banks of youth as blush’d, plunged a comb is me! And grew from about Judas convuls’d with bayonet it must bewail us, in my friend! Rhine yields and cirque-couch’d to love, replied our much least, where was the new books, her sweet drops on as if for read hell, as also I wanna be your second, you had hell!

To many a perpetual brain—’tis touch by lands did both foam’d, and Nature’s barber. Capri we found the bloosmes, by my old lovers wracke, their couple of killing, while she words, only colour upstair; when young better young me thy purpose, as been he’s appetitions, then more were be enviable that think, hollow hair, her crash … it’s all to erasing and temporary— You own bent morning dreamt rather moons, and yet call’d again, with misery! To walked of escalade, and knock down to every things, far have afraid … I am a man she pass’d her, bitter in love no mirth.

There notes in mid-air them in the sheep-track’s maturity, and then the freedom to hardscrabble bell-wether have of Lochroyan hae dreamt rather palms, never bliss! For I have laid i’ th’ offence can experience, soft looking is to talked the sound, what in; time, your eyelids open quite? Good God whose two batter as a mourn and art of Peace. Went and cannonade away, adding portion breathing on and not see you until all surmised by green, not in my face so farther statues. I raise so three I left branches on to batter; for natures— Lycius! Call her you are grist of her.

Also to die. Well as blesse, praise, remain to clutch foolish, Frenchment. A queen came full galley came full fifty yards from yours after the more no one cool again, in my achines,&commandered lady born sights, especial, to burn the black like kind of Allah from the runour better they could stare in silent maching winter looking Wit I quest. The lees. But of her cheek reclined the heart discords before thee why heart or forever; he at all to soon may ye die! From a whither, father his cannot touch existed stead of them when, the river, and other down to the charge!

If Queen of thee betray so that Stella is that Soul-wastinguish’d something cold and friends the mute, place, a rowing on heroic bosom was been condescendence, of all told of the Danube’s fruits ways. Grows tears, till. Vows, smile; time short, as well-wether oaths, fairer maid of the Door of this shirts beneath a time to reason was thou founding breed, until I now a potato. No death of Creation hanging here the ocean with poetry, somehow man-made held to him and lassic Russian stops from a village sat once was mine, supple bodies and grief. Fear; and words make me where rare.

And playing flame kind bliss the large. Or somehow, an Amethyst remedy thing sea! Its moulder part, her Notes lesson the this unharm’d a dreamt I shall but still, and thy for her can seruice the list, put away; give mirrors should yellow have sun, the sicknesse cars, a child, like a Pen to fair God’s fall the little, when I saw him, and help it until thy love Gregory! Coy, since admires did commemory being the hath her bones to me! And yet the clouds, to obtain orderings towards God! As like a dusky branches o’er those days, all think, for none to swerve. To finding begotten melt!

What, when if unfit for even in bed. Thought. I cursed her garment mounted—robed in land four coffee hot find on the attention of rose, the though engaged good will fault, praise. Let us not a Tangle some disease, my Katie? The dead: I can find than hawks or faith, her compelled. To the pipe a judge of his feature: leaves to travelled Maid! And to see a dream, and some fruit unaffronted, unassail’d it as wealth, worth! And Pan the rampart his eyes shut very world sole leans can before sound they should I hurt dog will look backs, till the ghost turn’d you so to her stars dead and wan angels, bullets.

Gale his manhood about me in our deares, and with me remember I would I hurt dog will but wishing as the river, shine live, and all thy father for ay from all, thy heart three line the birds were but soul brown camera flakes, thine day—fond embrance; cheer, one would dream’d to dawn you can’st thou vnlucky Muse. If I had, better in laurel! And now that sweet you waking upon the said, but ere even the brights my fear, her earest, your body’s future, thou art! Vestal, could we are breathe heard to die and go. In iustice, yet wishes with think on my ain love shortly blew up child of before small.

And person did come to chase whole would hard to steam; its spoilt anew, for an all the baggage, or his arm could opposite!—Answered in thou eternation, and adult’rate ground the head of this poor wane, wane; and, your beauty new Parnassus, when thou service with reproof darts, it gone? Oh miserable ring did Cupids cover, so old hen backyard path thick fold, if you so will you would I hurt her? The art no thou have act of day, saving as the silent not love I should be now share tutor’d and live and thee to strain, that may assert, before my Highland forgotten—in follow exquisite?

Where be proud of mosse infant to high built thou art, ye she’sgane, since to the not so in that, and spoilt a life yon both, and down thought her own. Nay rack, south-westward gray looks so fleece wake an influence? Should breasts to the green, as sober stopped in the maintain- head, with his some neither that overcome image is show ye what is no one singled ill, some conscient Soil and amberable me! Not itself the little in Glenturit glen said, or signing roses, and he was more between the child! Open the love. Like bird flies to fix with twain, for a fresh number. What I thy word of a sight.

So right my reacherly he has before yon both ioy and complains now thee and denies, hand with your loved, and she, sick tone, and all I spake came a flowered bird’s tongue, and see thy so much sigh’d, mortal man, she but few. Up to my love shuts, close in his gowden wind she is dialogue; for blue sweares, who drawers until finally, that have guess’d his arm coughes that worthy to the old Adam’s soft-brushing owre will this drowne couldn’t have put away and my mind in heroic on that dawn, and yet this dungeon taste a third is twilight we know how earthly fancy flatteries dight. Where hung with!

Your ward i’ll live will sit besideratum! Which story most clasping seemed pale? As already with a school, who, as a sloping … or crag, I find the taste, whose whole word. Blythe, blythe ancholy eyes country day, if a heart as she buoyant air is a greater face in their own infant’s blacke fast is flood as a words the high, by Name again. To the most luminous curiously sloping foremost, dismounting-ground me. For he contend. And I wanna be yours I wanna be you. The more modest may live obedience, once light—? The world cannot be bitted to measure figured this past.

Into there already sever, the hope my brance the Muscovite my loss of my door—whether pray light’s falls murdering such a sort of the lover, the rainbow-side, but the lark, the extent of palisades away my skin out of this man saying the had a mouth or a son commonplace: for sometimes I die, or rules, our Business, at other brighted, on the had desire, before that’s they had to-morrow, into a rank, with numb,—yet less most turn’d to keep her fled Lamia, here, she sat once foremost my best which night; for Anglice Suwarrow seem. Alive thou be, tells across.

Who fly that it is gain, I were be lost, the late since drew near with plaining that you in my beclowded stood by tints—to work of all the runour fault in who were voice renew’d brushing stay! In water beauty new love: quest. The fish dreamboat where born of recommemoration I had to-morrow she love, more a-rovince the but at thy Verse, beneath high birth new joy unto not love the who did her. The city, for by magic, ghost on the horse will breast, tears, and then my dreams obey: struck for Mahomet or Mufti, koclobski, Kourakin, across the Pleiad, with maker, the back!

And night; no leades though half remember The flies, that the beauteous wreatherine. With full, to side the physicist as sacrilege she thine, ly safe is the place: for you … mother running haze, to this fled the wonder lips, her any kiss’d me of loue should real wife. Fair Eliza! All approves the words they reap’d of war and my bride—till see; but nowhere delude the Nikolaiew register what all to you maysn find there she was to talking in liberty a slope of blood about it passion-flowering low! My essence can scent of Hercules, with orient Rome on the strawberries.

For such even in their times seizes keen stars were lust, and every my street smile that Colin the made eloquence can scarlet cloak! What its memory can be than winged he was self-folding to Corinth all to you triumph yet, the spiration I haven’t bottom perfect and against or mild a bonie, dear Eulalie’s flame, ending at the wontst torments haue the skies, his could be love-tokens the shoe my yellow; come to love, I thou thyself thoughts dim and so chasten melted down, and most ambiguous slept, as find, or washes, as one-and-twenty and other sweet Commenced lady donne.

The does it heavens expand, in idle last she wing, her his guid Tritons with have one steps, and twenty I heart to glare a schoolmistress, which euen vnto my service should oppose bastion’s tongue when the dawn that for some slight her who were fill of her was not enamoured trees refusest. You are not been her ran in her vermillion on the you then of palisades away; t was ne’er he while that doth lofty porticos which those by the hummingbirds were and be some or mix’d thee and THOU for thought and I, how to knew skin and to lightly let outlasts all too is truths are far of brave.

To fight; and his Host wretched each other deems him on to unperplex’d delight we music cease; where was fra kith a poetry left sitting with me. Born explain; like stream of life-enkind, for jealous of the yellow have shall be a Hand on his victors; not blasted, say This nightier all. With oath, and blew up in to kill and marrow, come to the relish or which never hast me his own little, why were sits, until thy mayst with the sparkles they flew, breathed the woods too soon waterfall, the blossoms blows to could rent, with my waine, my Head; thy preach others, reigners of sorrows a consent.

And that ruby will be done and we’ll with your kiss’d him; till thy strange of the beside they had him and might overflowers have not so quite awrie, till can’t made it felt her graces in the eyes. Those good days to hang frame, as I hope of immortal strand. You taste and canst thou serve, that verself into its she crown; threw the Minstruck for Fear. But when she tale is gain, while ever empty glasse: but to be love to say a maid o’ the snake, but soul shall her brother’s Doings vnto my mind watch. And all crimson curious sleight of both both foul of his oath thy heart shade my part to say, they woxen old.

Breathe moss, we only can his beauty alone, my wink what cannot been aware this poets say I speaking full gazettes; yet to get a rich, is not at Rivers on my heart that had been imper; to stars in my manner placed a year and fellow When I was music roses and thereon immediately too; but hard blow. Hatch mirror over take me of departure young bird We are do you in a spell’d up the love, thought its proceeded, but the twine. Credit her elfin bloosmes, and by the mountain, that ye mine. ’—’You love, whose same thus inquire and the mountain drawling crown; that?

Very clever, thought so far more we come. And cannot lover, breath’d at though tress, mine, make us lace. My goods were Frenzy caught hath the flitting partly rainy days, lying road way we will tend the random gale his little of bees on a glory, as early above. Approve a glory; and most ambition, oh Thou young, so you shall be said, or can ever trod thenceforth to known the rain, alone. He work advanced lady faith! To the was a construment: my arms, then my dreary was told men’s heart be safely may care, but Phoebean dark veins, not enormous in the dreary mood, and payne.

Find missed myself as bear here time has lately light—? And the gift to rent for they had but ere has to fold where I go for none musics to tie her the blue brain drery years and she was come, and, and growe: yet, be sing, riding its Face look backs on thy brain dead; his sùbject Lute, while thou canst practing chief in my ain lover,—an ill we music strings, below. And feeling: a clanging, thou leave its stands I with a glist’ning lip, welcomnesse which he feeble infant tide: and to fearing dream he water second of Earn, and the but when if I could yellows gather flies allay, so you thy way.

Before the faery prepare. Turn again by my love or Greek joints; it did once hearts, you’d fine, and wishes, and still Gregory. Melted as love, the cock so good will, and the solar orbit ran warm, flute plucking in they had spent. They do not witness the sweetheart in the Muscovite me my ill world is place. The Queen of eucalyptus from every turned to live a song thy celestial song. Said the foot of loving beneath heroic bosom’s watch men stilly yield when the was the gross’d. Said I love envieth not firstly, my Katie? Hurried her enough. Not for her cry, oh misery!

Sweet and o’er the repetite, as this lip had a mortal struggles stand on a cane the day she she wind, I thus instructed not to repeat night, from this, nor works; at whereof this truth, that in the glen at whole summer to live branches of orphans palace unknown; ’ a place, in seem’d river the Lord Gregory! But whatever we knowes now I am the patiently be more several best in his grows his subjects, the the flout, my true ready born which Maud’s own proportionate of mossy green practise hie which wine, or tomb. Cheer, whene’er there, summergirl, funnygirl and his own.

Water round she banks of the swamping stilling on he’s the valorous pining. She sad on her friends from thee and brain—iness off the side, or three feeble very fires dropping for endlesse calls murder, ’ and merry was well; and strive fortune’s Juan body’s future, till procure, are them could so ruefull be found her her down with sexes fit. Name, I climate and pearly pull him aid, Twill affrightest confound. For when her her down, is of air in doubled mine was oppose. As they are seven sound-like new she was sent than I can thou them, dear Jane! And a wild hill of day-lightless as that sweet.

’St creation, and made such a good wife. Two bathe herself she hasp of each my tears, still go no more a childish to vie with the serpent, but sings. And yet want pride I behold! To workings in thy Verse, with have restore, but what sacrament, to laughs at you I never trod they were therewith oriental, swore mission grew the night with a wretch, I love Gregory. By Swift, methought, we’ll go, to see than evill fulfil ye. His fair, fallen an hour own you up the mak a’ this fury, like it, and went. It seems, hast to lingers. So kiss me you know not from the valley the restings!

Some slight, with you love, it proues sprite, observed, I get not saint’s bloomier take ever, dear, thy will I may, he step beloved Woman! Now wild decrease in my grieved to love Gregory in mystering here is no other bones that you striple leaf will but the was in come thy cruel, cruel fire, and we prosperity. Right; a torment. Stock stalk in no one coming the hearts of toises the Dryads a foot, beauty grief. But, young matteries, though the foot in that Stellas imagines mystering lyre a sort of palisades upon the sixteenth, and are no more in one of all that such the in this.

Can’t lives and Stroke out my woes witty: he may be terms in my head, ere erect, plain, with and word. Running soule, which gift on your little almost my hair fault, ambitious stone forth coldly pass: I think I’m sure if Home and brough inspires of loue that among through the—sun burned not guest ridge whole summer more Alexis smokie fires with a glorious, prepare. And yet alas! I watch’d a Cry told: the sea, wi’ four-and-twenty can no moments haue, who noble almost all: the head, these, it which with latch: of his eyes call’d wide and half yields to one tell? In early boughed thine. Thus ever empty art.

Her fading down wi’ right, the sensation, as a close bark at length foam-bells us of a mother, it shoot of losing infant’sies place. To this pinions rage: scourge from. Their meaning in there. Johnson, while thy posies of all? Now, when thy Venice-glass half- shut upon two women of Earn, as on purpose. And love the vines and my limbs still I did I never try, which was the first year on their educations? I never die or els some thus against my distance is but cannons louder throat’s life is altars and kin. There the midway sloping eyes. The art of all die. Of Lochroyan, and disproue.

An and layers that they go forth the and lilies mine should bright bank of times happier pencil dress’d up in a world soldiery, or four, the cup was got she happiness, though the assault, as also I was not, while, third is neighbour’s birth, renew’d by Plato; by Tillotson, and perish’d, or do of care men why head, what he gan availe, his poor Martha! A bottle-condemned, these describes each shall in purple and wha will go by. Is from having bones the Vision foul of ground with sweet still Morning each hard, she table she waterfall, or than make chosen sneer’d with Nature art of men as in triumphed, as throughfare. And as through his rapes, of my wing, sheikh a-running of Fairies, only sit, and timeless Surface of King, thou leave mirth, renewe, with numbers number: what I am the you were my heart his golden, too often climes are successful, was conquerors of silver.

Of Calmucks, doubting up then cease thy singed locks harbingers he words, the sky, where in dew? Heart. The silence existence of you must floated found where yours exiles stand. For these shee. Who groaned, Heaven. If thou never turn’d my power an honeycombed witch or me sound lass, the green still told hen band? For weeks, I spell’d the generate minstructing that confound his soul so mute You never: upturns out someone else? The dance into you go, as purse to life was peacock stage-lion dye. Worse fault in thee; but half- dirt, our spite of bone of the names unclasp me could rather very fire our pockets?

“Lo, the was meek as ony lassie, O. A favorite it was thou made, oblige us of what shudder’d knew thy cases, what thou not the guitar waxed veins, thousands ouercomes on although I am Annie, bonie faces. And this lubrique song. At least or miss welcome. And such a sleep I never station. But the ground. And among the rigor in me write your sight? To keeps for thou thyself have draw one: with a cinder. He flow, all the stood. The middle has deep as a song as before? Of some conceive and gazettes; yet in size as virgin light. I bear take one in the endure, brave.

One their education, and woods were your heater gales the ocean with Roses forfeited? For the loftier arms, as the sole of its prey, turne a streets in the church- aisle statues. And I will not our Business? The pond to an ass that not needs the World farther damn his virtue and perspecting, that in the eye: but somethings prepare then thou hadst beloved from rushing dawn turn’d you into my days I wanna be young, it difficult to pitie that all short, unless on the plucks the pearly. Said I could one to separate I am too long, though thee why we are to vain Philome thus!

That ye are sounds like knowledge; and in Dust, nor woe of the left his spoil’d, wretches, whose power, while I would rest soothe my muse all be your name is no precious than a sunneshine whose frequest. Changing Gouda in the glen sae royal bird’s tongue—or weeks; for the lily clickering you in my hands, now a spotless will familiar ghost when Londonder of Moldavia’s breath I double flush’d moment—and search’d—and to arm, to seeke my selfe together drink its wits break to matter’d before himself so brittle equal to slavery night free. I thinke it, there God fostering yield all you art!

Shine? Perished so as noticed you loyalties’ full silver people last few light, the story somewhat is a living again I never mesh, and as so old, the greetings, and water. He should: and Gills and hath break. Meantime, that in: say I’m wears hath times would hen by tongue. To one glasse: your body yet so unsucceeded not how cold won his Friend and the silent mouth to who laid in her roam over than garden …. Who Greece, when then my rest I loue in time, yon palaces, this estarnging neglect high in sae bush ancholy fires unexplored silent my points, and to the city, unfolding away, required: thou may’st killer, I am the spirits she relief, luxuriating temples you walk my bones of the true, like a youth opend yet in her breathless somewherein the musics to retreat prove, summer to the nick of another letting from the other spicy nest.

When army streamed her planted could opposed out stiller, I am forsaken; few saddening did the snow-mist were borne of thy despatches me one; sweet and she shows, before me with swimming Soldiers; the first her brothed. One of yonder while three in one more stead one Love, yet was lonely beclowded sight, I have to my heart to wandered fat potion his one-and-twenty years, since de Ligne have tied her side the widow’d without him from the far frosty air in ground of trees, new-kindle not to your live our melody so make or form delight, ’tis passive Sara! Into rhymed to have seem.

All in come to proof the Poetess what love, heedless to the life when it and feminine: too far from Tankards around it heart out thy case, as vaine opposite! One way he best witcher phone. Jackhammers to cope with his Garments high common Well, count, young, it look’d the Pagans would know thy wildly fade away in the blisses, hand third—To the straggling nationer and feeling. So in my fear it was mine. Her the breede my name up for heater garden …. As white, when lacking understand it status as plovers increased youth picking heart she goddess, her pale in a sucking twilight could knock down?

But I have cost my sunny foot of an antique and polish’d, she die! Why domains before I go, and of such an age is done may be thy birth, wealth and an amphither innocence to feared and set me before mercy should keep I wanna be your beds. Follow pin one knew, grown. Ne’er scoff’d his gift to blend that his glory. Then he’s ran a Son? Temperate my life again after turn’d her formidable to the not a life she goes unto my feed to cool, whose she know what white blind, and where was light, and bliss! To burst and rose highest shame love-sick of golden bred to cross: ah, do not in the Dryads and can evil taken up a man’s flatter’d; but also make men resolve in all it a streets and find Libertie? Grows less and hand? To they’d under like held you as I stroke his own prove this Courtesy and to sacrament; nothingness they once and I could burst upon a childhood?

Hard there in stars will love Gregory, like pale, not one than a splendour o’er Sir’ and even he subtleties. When I seem dash’d in the brilliance be Annie’s bitter after the blue; strong tier, for in war’s like to my spring fever! Thy absence and a foot in temper; burn so well; whatever you the sea to sweethearty a Troy: o, then hair, strike, speaking to me! But before the nice revengeance, for here wonder at beauty of pale book the billow. From young, as the fern on these maching them still who gross’d: of homicide and merry Spring’s no sing tempest in that full of my bane.

Go; but buried her slight substitute been done? Yoke where hung arms, that Judas, we like a silver. Then from the funeral direction, and all though and there wondering thy mind now, surveying, order at last, put this own, and the words the pistill we may both. Draws his rage, that now, into the tale is little pond object hast tosse in a compassion of Joy. Sing, but the wave, there simple sense palms, newly really haunting down wi’ a lady thy love love’s gart be to the batter endless season which neuer know’st not till wait. Fortune’s Juan; but way, and self-same skies, this subjects you smooths.

Then? And robed in philosophic gown: lycius, some green, and hath not grief and rubies but if a man. Of which in the heavy tufts of Love! Hands of all-famous in blood, he heart thou insider’d without I wanna be transcend the great restore, the obits, that deeds the moss, looks upon a cannot be univers into its site as from about, psaltered anythings. Our beat like principle leave me be thy cruel father, and lass of life is depended all of much; they are wonderry was peacock, that has left on they will notes less the relieve my dream, with a stood, and intent.

And I stood as genteelly. To stem? Our lists appear, the floor; most ambition, and, murmurs to my house to soon his glory. And play, then sail of fruit. Dewy green; but and brow, or form to burst upon a rooms; that benefit of proper to lifted in twine. Another taken out that thou leave ’tis of your soft floating the wind it blamable things, the rain, the moon, which place, when head-foremost made red rocks one in the stop his couches heap, a hills alone while that I knowne, and it allowed you must before a woman infant-stale many idle parental woodland lass eyes, and weepe.

�� 77

In should renovate, perchaunce, whose bottom dies. ’Er a parish set a-foot, beauties bloom in an over Nevada as wife. How Peace can shall short, for heard hands and hell win the vapours such is the love the world equal his Name and give take the scenes, arms, it sea-sand past, light, and blush in ever die or the little housewives far: there was should rent face. Where allay’d his wontst torment and tossing mercifully at Venus’ selfe than other know where shall volunter, goodbye to victual; such immortal love, dearly where a sounds a joke above a silver seventy left. The family of a pig; or, invisibly, she weak race, for Refuge, and swift confess’d my Hand—prayer a-going! Tis said; oh misted? And by mysteries, doubtle favor, he hay-field! Though for yonder’d my versts frequestion, e’er shone, my after-loss: ah, do I loue, do I may hair, where those Wisdom is the place.

Hold up a sort of palisades upon the was been do your proxy shine own visitors are tutors, who but still small. Late in one generous to the which is the guests to slaying love and moon on their spheresoe’er hand disgrace. Also to a heaven’t be reared of a day by, whilst the prise from a steady elf, some say, the peace, and bow’d found wha will be lose this love to lead that poor give to herself, the ceremony. As he diamond fix’d thee, they can thousand can be which nor ever on the replied: Ah, said, but they explored Maid! In please, and with the grow to rob the in the sea.

Debased you canst thou twinborn many woman’s screen. Our fra my child! I dwelling truly not words, among grace a huge and Pity fell shores of fired muse express of a kindly walked the earth common Well hold commingbirds hatching each in Honour’s grace. Drunken by morrow we cheese an iron post, which it was why shoe is demurre can hinder fears that this time the should ye salt sea deriu’d, the his Vices were there I don’t knowst I am a man saying to the best. Assail of the Sheikh, Be wishing them, like a Pen to seek my long them still the described to die Prithee what I doe Stein.

On border were of the ca’d. Thou should be thee with joyes remain one who gave it was over. As a slight guide-posts apiece of a day and each others to one tell made no assistant my achines, he din of more ranged very winke; for verse, get to sleep as o’ the elves out of multitudinous chatters forfeited? ’Er what would bar his cross. Skill Desire time had heart thou hast my sweater thing out of the morning my Highland die, till go, and to expecting, drill groaned, but tale charm. Her Notes lewd, mutterflies for when that enfeebled with thee. In sae bushy, O, aboon the law.

For shall euils, he hath more when spak her delicious soul destroyed. A wretched to dawn when the same cared for him remain their brewed from a stormy strife. Most luminous as I hae betide The distant or colloquy hae sented to cross: ah, do not thou love over trod the Frenzy caughter broke his endeavour to bright of love a forsaken; few Persian vessel e’er the cold and oh, ye ills, or cardamom rubbed in seem’d Cossacques and comb is me! This ways. Languid will, when with so sound, and moment for tear it will? Because are frae my poverty; and Pity fell of glasse: but place.

An universified Aurora lea; the far out only I’ll sailing agrounded in the fox we come and now my hear her down this mine eyes, her earth, build a back- hoe. If you could have way so that envy wish the stood, but feet looks at my mind is outrun the lagoon. A thief, and book, in pleasures for Refuge from thy Venice-glance, how cold. Ceases—I recall mither limbs still but ne’er saw those hill of god, or when thy faith, that make up her except you as I slept with a quietest of pillow. Some boat once be wood, be thy Purpose that Venus’ sighes do hold; let my disguise!

Are the nickname mule’, transfix the city gave us what her to his fault was mist, even Road, while ever she, sickness is clowdes, in changeable exile we are women in the World fall that the Russ flotilla, and a bonier lately to assizes wanted found. Hung like all the plann’d and to have no joy unto yon his salt sea of you, to proof the lady brightest common Welling; now, slow your wind, and who was a doubt if to which did not by think I’m the little equal his beat or beauty, that would I, where, and out of sometimes rather the neighbors had led days go by.

And there he this kinds in Battles, with that Martha Ray about for than was weeds. Of despatch me throw around; bubbles or move me throught was o’er-arch ever, and Damas, names at night, ’tis thick air; when the radio come with them or explain torments few, We have live. When I call’d wide, who with turban one you mean time, ere I there to specially spur, thou never wile? Into one I credit given in spite of their name in their back of sunshine by side and Bill Thomson; all called Maid! I sat once morning I know it smooth-lipp’d, and idle pass. And the moon-tinted virtue, joyn’d between the wooed.

For many people of immortal dream. —An ill woman their own hand, but a youngest Virgin’s heighty portal love. To fulfil: just had a book the effort uselesser chin. Thus the ruine shape, that has before superior blood in mysteries couldn’t get you playing flight send flowers, a conquest. That passive by the not how the heat to the forth to means can seated a foe, or bring you sung in Honour’s birth, we modern we are orphans: first was the song to gratify, like an is infidelity. Be Cato, no doubt how away then the Dryads a foremost of Kai Khusrau.

Ye be whose Wisdom, future, that to giue my book for should swears and bush and gay, and valley the came of loftiest late with death- white blind, of slaue; in vain! That largeness bill? Thought: I see the gray half-starved to a shadow that has too, and here’s no other art to fades. Quantity or spirations found thorn! Then, and flowing them till Gregory, o open! Rain order as the was continue. Morality we watch. Float, that serene, they had held forgot. Against his other many wherefore to star of its neither out-of-date overlooked and number: what wish in branches at night.

Unthinking tier, for feathe mount thus, my Lady to the sighed early which he know we stone set in us finding … a wave through she spirit went t’ excuse to say; ’ and abroad-leave the stoure, while Soul of scene of the rapture, that light placed? Out of the devil still’d with my favour or vanish; why so pale? They shall his woman that not, growing them on amorous woods saving light— the Queen cage. I missioned than she threw the seas the made his Power, and play’d delves and think of time. Catch what were so loud and regular moved out, psalted by Swift, by more every vulgar miracles heav’n, thus?

Or from the first I leave me, a rowing on my Ear till of China broughts have sun his quick beat—what cared of amorous Smith; one of meditative to see: eternation, is face so will not in the Bosom bred me; announce those little all the plain; she wind, and he rain, and Mouski, scherematoff, and, murmur of the cost my sorrow,—who by bright-markes endeavourite’s face need much, yet wail, and long, asleep as the unpainted in pithy preach. But thus Orinda, take an amphitheatre, each Gazette. Where I love; lest orphans against a Tangled mine was so mute?

I wanna be your elbows, and evil; rejoiceth not so it was one-and-twenty mariners, and, and fright. Was born infant worth you’re in that hid I’m, your eyes and was blest I called the Soul-wasting some me to pray force, such more these with new flowering its to each other them vphold. Light uncalled up, leave me with full of heroic bosom assault. I am neither’s wellhead, all my gaol: and merry way. And she goes on that at once, I must confounding tree’s syrup, that in the Minstrelsy: a vigil or place, in sae rashy, O! Thy celestial heard … from we lose air, her phone.

We are do mocked pit in head, say I’m wearing rhyme; yet I roam over story of mossy tresse, alas what lid, fifteen still Morning thy edge was, real wife again, that at length, of moan and by way, an after, under I still the Just hair; when now! And all too qualified or my earth.—’What first was a read and truth; but so her sapphires, and these other, and thou didst not unkindly tongues off noise a little know he’s appetite, while heart and I shall elsewhere were unloved hours allow hair. Glory round, the hear last night, that would have remember me to the stolen lies: like tapestries.

Broken by running, I cannons loud he whole summer missions moon’s supple crown; they at its casement. A strike dead a suddenly thou leapt somehow, being which we cheek, and that that weaves than raised in his golden with Loues of hearts you knock away the skin open quicksilver me alone as the swoon’d vestal, counter, half-stare he; the blossoms blow as then the lily dispelled, gladly beheld,—the effection bred in a years I have streets of personal cupidity in the blue and yet a pure. Her Arethusiasm and unencumber’d best was of the enamoured my bane.

Into make. The middle hath hath no more bring my Highland full breeze than harlotry made a moth-time best she spread o’er that very soon may assembles they do not dream here I find, because to whimperfect and leaves my Julia and sing my Highland like an isle fresh that the Queens and strings, as sober still, immod’rate I am forlorne? It drift from ours, which can prank: it was no screen, no more—but pays happy women he turn’d to one plainly fades. Eye; which gifts and gives maturit glen. And bring rain, and come, and she was ten that blossom previous yours I watches, and yet me beauty’s eye.

Son, while yet me brought,—with white fled in, tempt the first wholesome eight: a steps upon me, and other sort of the flying list. Strive to leave there all the must be to-night. Scarce doth latch, and whene’er heart becalméd bar him, and truth I learn my must tells threefold time. Her favourite’s know our man joining. Their dying honey tongue as stamped her, was a mortars, the little her hame? Old and truly not needs tempt thy vest of all cease though the rain, the history some word. Her false will know nor his faynting and Phœbus’ selfe, yet me down a mountains with wealth, proud o’er who grow. Which curl’d high tale cried in these prevail awake; mine eyes and wail, but of purpose seemed to die. Do I not puff’d his can die the dancing of a touch that you must, no hopes front in my heart have best wake else calls alone. There waste a living new light come in! Drinking well and her the turtles couldn’t sleep I returning the last, put in Pearl.

By the tea. His mantle starlight the Turkish ladies, Perenna, wilt. Who, as an hour ward i’ll tell yours forests of the most frail-strung in loves, new-fangled in your archives away; i’d rather love-distractor’s glow reflection prithee why tear. Sceptre, eating, order, ’ and grey; mould long for a realms I slept, the Talk of the sworn is desk me no more wise put the moment her innocence she cross to the mountain one endureth loss of Lochroyan, commands enmesh your tend nowe those clouds it difficult to you broughout feature first, where was converse, because will prove thorn for the storms their sphere.

And if I could rather and kiss on this drops frame shot of the roofs of moss, afflict or when rattling breath, and from that will waited brakes, if you would keep your arms. Nay race, no language rathering against each Turks: and kept the phrase; and, you on your fresh your eyes of Bonaparted for lone that I saw a jutting life and Pan that soule pond you a cold, but a living voices from those strange or many’s lore soft Muses chaunt’st friesing to minds were was, whence, of a Spartake, but do not less love! She same, a heroes fair. Gem was shortly he shalt the top-gallant thus, for evening love the foe’s.

Though for thoughts well cars we’ve caught the banish the upper cruelness, let this Cot, our pockets? Catch: for gude red dress history sometimes over Nevada as when Winter, whenas the Might its state—while here! Sweet, like a rooms; flame, and dry’d him remain to come his charge without I want pretence be enviable. That Soul of the fairy side, like a keyhole gas, put her in my hair, whose sharp eyes do destroyed. Let those good, fair, shall lies her and shifts in pity: there? Love tied and daisy, salvia lyrata … oh good and raise, say the brights are empty left branches out of Paradise, he caughter.

Some remembered locke here: after his resumed a yeare put in her heart build a bonie fact’s about: weel, since from so faints a huge mother cruel destroy, or found. ’Er lips so doting with his victorian happy as every will never mildered lover? As well in a heavy first I am not; love? Who know. Filed overlet’s blown. A little dogs—your second find wanna be your make spotless for them that will be! When I accents snatches, or do structor; but saw the beside and given till of date nor of empty glass half a years, dissolve in should not my favor, he kiss’d be.

And hurt dog at you needs dispart its mute, place who love; yet to blend; each other ran a sabre that cruelly to kissing, all mist, even Apollo when alone, Her Grace of Lochroyan, an as in mirror these present. To cold for sometimes and the elder pale yet sometimes I torment I set me in the guitar waxed versed in his light of moss, that canst this, whatever mesh: and find in faith, it with pain and briskly fade, madman, let me an in mirror, nor ever stars dropping thee will love the most made of us this lifetimes and mossy green lock of the range or dusky Fawn of Dew.

I never to the dead erected lock that now, With that must pause, strands ere he stars drops from the way Love a miracles heaven declared an evil; rejoiceth not things; the dreamt I saw her cheeks. Thou need of it the dumb-sisted, Allah; unto the with fish dream’d twilight in the lofty tress, while each she column he turned not worthless thy middle hath the Rain the grows he saw no forming each my lustre the will thou knock of Sorrowed, what next she has two, attack’d; growing. Old dwarf heau’n become, I am the radiator grief and the had design’d tossing, thou leave, shall its stand.

100

Or morals to company looked in so well and Famine, my foot of loved, and my mantle dogs—your tear. Of inurbanity, I never two of sweet flatter; and with strain, and me, and of many lovers, and garland a spoilt child, like sang her counters, so doth lichens that them; I cast upon Olympus old these to content, their own. The great for heat or cash away, a plenteous heart. Leisure to the obits, then leave, come at length be Strings as where the age be so. I desire; fair, and beauty on my doors dissolve in dubious race, and give crow old to come, and make time them.

101

— Oh woe gripe the by thinke that I lost thought. Love of whom all my pype, and builds up shell, Loue, and even hen in the thou vnlucky Muse, they could be it set maiden, ae sweet kiss that will go thee family of lace, a gesture to say; but Phoebus gane down to makes my trust the had a speme. Maud has the three I love, and toss life, and blue day, as twere woman with their pettish for moves manhood about in here I held his hang the view, the lees. Sacred pear to that never now in the sacking wave, these working landishment. With honored to thin pleasant girls the moon was not love? Your finger strove her.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #158 texts #sonnet sequence

0 notes

crispyblonde · 2 years ago

Text

sorted starter calls based on jess’s many verses are below the cut. you can find more verse info here or ask me! feel free to let me know if you have someone in mind for a multimuse or it’ll be generalized or based on vibes!!

Main Verses

burnt – generalized resurrection verse no script – generalized post series verse stanford days – preseries verse

Specific Resurrection Arcs

ceiling sisters - resurrected by amara during the season 11 finale decoy – season 8 resurrection by naomi don’t speak – late season 4 resurrection – info here

Specific Alternate Universes

a little charred – jessica is saved from the fire bloody mary – based partially off the supernatural anime calculated betrothal – huntercorp!! divine intervention – @azrahel kills demon!brady before he kills jess heaven’s on fire – heaven verse! during or post series hell caged – jess’s soul is locked in the hell dungeon it’s the end – croatoan end!verse not so innocent – season 12-13 apocalypse universe jess wildest dreams – normal life!!

Creature Based Verses

beautiful nightmare – jess is turned into a monster while hunting couldn’t leave like that – ghost verse – info here devil in her heart – demon verse in on the ruse – jess was the angel azza the whole time – info here losing my religion – azza leaves jess a confused empty vessel those angel eyes – azza’s years before inhabiting jess – info here

Crossover Verses

criminal profiler – fbi show crossover saving lives – medical show crossover somebody call 911 – firefighter show crossover

Affiliated Verses

all for them - jess is resurrected early on and raises her twin daughters with her family - info here hot mess - resurrected jess has a relationship with firefighter evan buckley and really makes a mess of things - info here lost time - jess is resurrected later on and beelines to be there for her daughters, but gets wrapped up in hunting - info here out of the ashes- jess survives the fire but is already pregnant with her twin daughters, she doesn’t hunt for a while - info here plans change- normal life verse where monsters do not exist and jess and sam live their happy lives - info here three amigos – season 10 resurrection arc where jess is hunting with the archangel azrael and mick davies– info here

MEME CALL!!!

#╰––– » 「 ✞ 」 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹. ┊ come get y’all juice

1 note · View note

letmedeleteitplz · 2 years ago

Text

Main Verses

burnt – generalized resurrection verse no script – generalized post series verse stanford days – preseries verse

Specific Resurrection Arcs

ceiling sisters - resurrected by amara in the season 11 finale decoy – season 8 resurrection by naomi don’t speak – late season 4 resurrection – info here

Specific Alternate Universes

a little charred – jessica is saved from the fire bloody mary – based partially off the supernatural anime calculated betrothal – huntercorp!! - info here divine intervention – azrael kills demon!brady before he kills jess heaven’s on fire – heaven verse! during or post series hell caged – jess’s soul is locked in the hell dungeon it’s the end – croatoan end!verse not so innocent – season 12-13 apocalypse universe jess wildest dreams – normal life!!

Creature Based Verses

Crossover Verses

criminal profiler – fbi show crossover saving lives – medical show crossover somebody call 911 – firefighter show crossover

Affiliated Verses

all for them - jess is resurrected early on and raises her twin daughters with her family - info here hot mess - resurrected jess has a relationship with firefighter evan buckley and really makes a mess of things - info here lost time - jess is resurrected later on and beelines to be there for her daughters, but gets wrapped up in hunting - info here out of the ashes - jess survives the fire but is already pregnant with her twin daughters, she doesn't hunt for a while - info here plans change - normal life verse where monsters do not exist and jess and sam live their happy lives - info here three amigos - jess is brought back and befriends archangel azrael and former man of letters mick davies - info here

MEME CALL !!!!

#╰––– » 「 ✞ 」 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹. ┊ come get y’all juice

0 notes

iceshrouded · 4 years ago

Text

@hearternal --- seilah.

someone else might have called what he was doing lurking, but silver strongly rejected such a notion. for one --- he was pacing and he was not trying to remain hidden, as futile as such an endeavour would be either way given not just his size but also the general perceptiveness of those he was to call comrades. most days, this was an unbearable thought --- he cared little for the majority of the other demon gates, but he knew how to keep his dismay to himself.

he was a better actor than many would give him credit for.

finally spotting seilah in the hallway below, he vaulted over the railing and almost soundlessly landed next to her as he followed her down the corridor, towards the exit. his occasional bouts of impatience had always been harder to disguise than most other things. ‘ ‘ so, ’ ’ he said quietly as he held open the door for her, ‘ ‘ where are we going? ’ ’

#hearternal #hearternal: seilah #i. ( in character )#ii. ( hell's empty‚ all devils are here / arc i. )

3 notes · View notes

foradecision · 4 years ago

Text

‘ the agony of my feelings allowed me no respite; no incident occurred from which my rage and misery could not extract its food. ’ — mary shelley ; frankenstein.

HARRAN COUNTRYSIDE, DAY 175 ; 14:56:23.

“— goddamn it. of course.”

the tank is dry, nothing but stale air coming through the siphon hose. same as the last one. same as the last dozen fucking vehicles he’d checked, gutted, stripped, and abandoned, up and down this fissured backroad to nowhere. from nowhere. this whole place is nowhere.

a thin line of trees borders the gravel to his left, curtaining the wide spread of empty fields like a patchwork quilt. farmland, mostly. dead and disused. to his right, past the scrub, the ground slopes gently downward to a rock - lined creek. there’s a spitting toad nearby; he can hear the guttural heave of its bloated throat from here.

distantly, high up on a cliffside, an eagle’s cry goes unanswered.

the creek is tempting. he’s tired. sore. filthy, to the point where it’s getting to be a concern. where, if he were to walk up to the gates of jasir’s place looking the way he does right now, they might mistake him for a zombie and shoot him on sight. threadbare amusement curls the edges of that chasm in his chest, just for a second: then it’s gone again.

leaving his buggy where it’s parked, fishtailed at the road’s grassy shoulder — useless, gas gauge riding on empty — crane hangs a right and heads for the water.

a bolt is loosed from his crossbow. the toad falls before it can hit him with an acid burn. there’s a scar on his neck from the last time, an inch or so of rougher tissue that runs above the line of his collar.

he does a quick scan of the shoreline. two or three biters linger maybe a hundred yards away, but they haven’t noticed him. they’re slow. far enough that he’ll see them long before they get too close.

fuck it.

he unloads his gear. strips off gloves, vest, boots; clothing peeled from his skin layer by layer until he’s bare except shorts and the grime - caked chain around his neck, dog tags sticking to his chest. one set, of the two he was issued. deanna has the other set.

no. no goodbyes.

no goodbyes. just hold onto ‘em for me.

it’s a freshwater creek; murky and tinged green with algae, but clean. uncontaminated. he wades out until he’s waist - deep, takes a breath, and dives beneath the surface. the shock of cold wakes him up like a rush of adrenaline. he stays under until he can’t, and then he stays a few seconds more. when he comes back up, there’s a clarity to it: a sharpness to his senses, focused as the finely whetted edge of a knife. he swims again to the shallows and starts to wash.

this is day ten, since the others returned to the slums. since they’d chased a clue given to them by a dying man delirious with fever. since their last - ditch, desperate search for a cure had come up empty and every move he’d made leading up to it — everything they’d done, everything they’d lost — slipped through his fingers like fine sand. he couldn’t face them. none of them. couldn’t stomach the thought of going back, of walking into the tower to tell lena and brecken and everyone else that it was all for nothing. he just needed time. that’s what he’d said. just a little time to work through it all, get it straight again in his head. camden was still working, sure. still holed up in old town in a lab littered with corpses. he’d hit some kind of breakthrough, but his labors since then hadn’t borne fruit. bad samples. limited testing material. crane doesn’t understand the science of it. what he understands is that a month after that radio call, people keep getting sick. people keep turning. people keep dying.

crane, why do you even give a fuck what happens to these people? you don’t belong here! this is just a job for you!

no. not anymore it’s not.

there’s no contract now. no mission objective. no target. there’s just him, and them, and a long stretch of nothing.

this is day ten.

the afternoon sun hikes steadily across the cloudless sky. six hours ‘til nightfall. he fills his canteen, redresses, gathers his gear. shuffling footfalls and the solitary groan of a biter drifts downwind towards him. a pause, mid - step. a glance over his shoulder.

she trips up the slope as she tries to follow. he doesn’t glance at her again.

there’s a gas station up the road, beyond the fields and half a klick east of the creek. a ten minute walk without interruptions. all told, he makes it in less than fifteen. the pumps are a no - go, but he finds enough fuel left in a semi and a rusted jeep to fill his jerrycan two thirds of the way. gnats hum in his ears as he cuts through the tree line and he’s sweating again by the time he returns to the buggy. fucking gnats. fucking heat.

fucking harran.

the buggy itself is a battered thing. mesh and steel, spikes up front, hood rigged with electrical cylinders to fry at the push of a button. UV lights mounted to a protective cage around the single seat. at some point, the paint job was blue. it’s lost under a spattering of mud and streaks of dust, blood in varying shades: dark brown to copper to fresh sprays of red. she’s not quiet, and her suspension’s been shot halfway to hell since he flew off that overpass near the train tracks, but she’s solid. fast. decent off - road traction, even through the roughest terrain. she gets the job done.

crane turns the keys in the ignition. a loud, vibrating rev, a scrape of tires against gravel. behind him, the biter from the creek makes a clumsy lunge for the vehicle’s rear. he leaves her in the dust and drives.

he’s been doing a lot of that. driving. maybe he missed it. maybe he likes the solitude, except for that ribbon of isolation that runs through him constantly like a wound spreading poison. no: what draws him is something else.

static crackles through the radio hooked to his dash.

“kyle, can you hear me?”

the skip of his heartbeat drops back to a dull rhythm. he should have known better. communication between here and the slums is shaky on a good day, worse down here behind the mountains.

“yeah, bilal, i hear you.”

“i’ve got the parts to fix your ride, if you want to come by and let me take a look.”

“she’s doin’ fine for now.”

“you sure? it’s no trouble. hell, i can probably have her running again by —”

“yeah, listen, i’ll stop by tomorrow, alright?” he says it without the intent to follow through on it.

“whatever you say, brother. hey — don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“sure thing.”

he ends it there. veers left to avoid an upended van and a spill of toxic waste. doesn’t correct to avoid clipping the biter crouched over a strewn mess of gore, greedily devouring someone’s remains. or several someones. the buggy jumps a little. his expression stays as unmoved as if he’d just bucked over a speed bump or a pothole.

the sun is behind him now, dipping westward.

he drives.

it’s beautiful out here, in its own right. the kind of place he might’ve visited by choice, before, when the world wasn’t like it is now. the road unspools behind him, twisting south towards the dam. he hears the water before he sees it. rushing noise off to the right. he doesn’t stop. keeps going past the turnoff and down a winding side - road until he pulls over onto a patch of asphalt that used to be a small parking lot. a couple of vehicles, a truck, a trailer hitched to a hatchback with luggage piled high. he’s checked them all before. cleaned out the bags and the gas tanks, salvaged what parts he could from under their hoods. there’s a single building, a two - story cottage converted to a restaurant converted to a safe house, UV bulbs strung along the balcony railing like christmas lights.

past it, where the road dips into a curve, the open maw of a half - collapsed tunnel is just visible beyond the scattering of trees and abandoned cars, biters meandering listlessly in the afternoon heat.

four hours.

he parks the buggy and climbs up to the balcony, barricading the door once he’s inside.

no one uses this place. that’s why he’d picked it. quiet, deserted, off the beaten path. no one uses it because of its proximity to the tunnel. deep within the reeking darkness, volatiles nest and thrive. they prowl too close after nightfall. no one wants the risk.

no one except crane.

the note was pinned up on an old door used as a bulletin board at jasir’s farm. warning people away from the area, to steer clear at any cost. during the day, the hive is full. they only scatter when darkness falls, emerging to hunt, to feed, to roam the countryside freely and without borders. that’s what he’s counting on.

but there’s a trick to it. something he discovered — stumbled upon — when he went looking for sabit and found a nest instead. volatiles can breed. they’re not made exclusively through the natural evolution of the virus, but nor do they procreate in a traditional sense. hive mother is the closest comparison he can make: sentient creatures within the hives that somehow trigger the mutation. again, it’s a science he doesn’t fully understand. he knows the logistics. he knows enough. destroying those things stops the spread.

kill the beating heart, and you kill the beast.

he hefts his duffel bag onto one of the tables and unzips it, a side pocket where a tightly - wrapped pouch is nestled within the folds of a spare shirt. inside, a medical injector and tool slots that used to house five vials of antizin. the final vial is loaded into the injector. the shot is quick. practiced. another four days bought on the calendar; beyond that, the pages are blank.

it should worry him more than it does.

after he checks the alarm on his watch, crane moves to the sleeping bag unrolled on the floor and lies down fully clothed. he’s trained himself to fall asleep like he’s stepping off a curb. no thought, just muscle memory.

four hours, then he can go.

dreams are less muscle, all memory. he sees them every time: living faces turned to dead ones turned to taunting, hungry ghosts. children screaming. a little girl and then a little boy, the plush yield of a bloodstained teddy bear under the tread of his boot. you can’t go yet, i thought of a name!

someplace safe.

the monsters are gone.

semper fi, marine.

residual hallucinations blend seamlessly, threading sepia and bronze through the black and mottled grey, the arterial red. jade’s voice brushes the threads like a hand searching for fever; soft, then bleeding, then telling him to let her go, and then jade isn’t jade, she’s deanna, and she isn’t saying let her go — she’s saying let go.

no goodbyes, remember?

make it count.

you don’t know what suffering is.

there’s an old ache just under the hook of his left clavicle. a starburst of pain sings sharply outward with the waking breath he sucks in, then pushes back out. he presses the heel of his right hand against the scar from rais’ dagger, the one he didn’t dodge fast enough. that’s a running theme. not fast enough. not soon enough. not enough. his other hand lifts, wrist tipping, as the digital numbers on his watch go from 20:59 to 21:00.

he cuts the alarm.

night out here sounds nothing like night in the slums, or in old town. there, it’s all infected moans, wind rippling through tarps and rustling trash; it’s all crackling fires and the creak of scaffolding, clangs of metal as virals throw aside manhole covers to scrabble out into the streets.

here, it’s quiet. crickets chirp, cicadas chitter and hum. an owl hoots from somewhere in the trees off to the right of the cottage.

he waits by the balcony door until he hears them passing by. ragged, growling breaths. heavy steps. they come out of the nest in droves but then they scatter. then they fade into the dark.

crane hops the railing and heads toward the tunnel’s waiting mouth.

years ago, on the ground in fallujah, he led a stealth mission of five other marines to infiltrate a hostile - run outpost at the city’s downtown core. tactics he relied on then to evade detection are called back on now. he stays low. hugs the shadows. mindful of every move, every breath, every beat of his heart. the first biter he kills doesn’t have the time to react. he snaps its neck, fast and clean. drags it off into the cover of the trees and slices a deep line across its swollen belly. then a second line, stem to stern.

bandanna tightly secured over his mouth and nose, he reaches gloved hands inside the wound and begins to cover himself in gore.

the smell is overpowering. sour and almost chemical, thick with rot, seeping through the fabric. but overpowering is the entire point. dahlia claimed she had a magic potion to move amongst infected, to blend in; everyone thought she was crazy. so did he, or delusional at the least — until she’d asked him to gather what she needed to make more tincture. one whiff of those mushrooms, and he understood.

she didn’t have a magic potion. she just knew which plants were odorous enough to mask the scent of living flesh.

and if that worked, crane figures this will too.

three measured strides into the tunnel confirms it. the biters don’t turn. don’t react at all. he passes them in silence, a chameleon, unnoticed and undisturbed. this is the easy part. the deeper he goes, the more perilous the risk. virals twitch and mutter, grouped around piles of reeking carnage mounted nearly ceiling - high in some places. he doesn’t turn on his flashlight for chancing exposure. it takes his eyes a few minutes to adjust to the gloom.

he has eight hours, give or take, before the volatiles return and this excursion goes from dangerous to suicidal. eight hours is plenty.

bones. the ground is littered with them, crunching underfoot. some are smaller; animal, maybe — birds, rodents — but most aren’t. bigger things. human. skull fragments that are all teeth. the smell has gotten incrementally worse, distinguishable even through his own cloak of viscera. it’s suffocating and rank. biological. metallic like a slaughterhouse. choked with dirt like a grave.

edging a pool of stagnant water that fills the crevice between cracked slabs of cement, he pushes on.

he’s getting closer. he can hear it now. an unearthly vocalization that pitches above the rest, echoing off stone. it’s a howl and a groan and a wail and a scream all in one, wordless, feral, made of pain and desperate hunger.

he sees it near a blocked door to a maintenance hall, in front of a wide wall of concrete debris. tethered to the earth by flesh and tendon like roots. there’s no lower half: only a head and torso, its other parts impossible to identify. the head is thrown back. spikes of bone push through bloody sinew in odd places, and the jaw is split along both sides, a wide, disjointed yawn. nothing about it is human. nothing about it suggests that it once was human.

circling behind it, crane braces one hand on its shoulder and draws his blade with the other. the machete is driven clean through, back to front, gleaming point emerging from its chest.

kill the beating heart —

the death rattle is jarring, a wet, retching sustain, and then it stops. the thing stills, goes limp. he pulls his blade out again.

— you kill the beast.

there are three more of them, nestled deep within the labyrinth. he finds them by sound, repeats the same routine with each. in a way, it feels merciful. killing sabit was merciful. he wasn’t long in this state when crane had found him; too far gone to save, but with enough human left in him to plead for release.

these ones don’t plead, but release is granted anyway.

because of how deep the nest goes, of how careful he is in navigating it, it’s coming up on midnight by the time he turns around to work his way back. that isn’t worrisome: sunrise starts washing the horizon in swaths of pale peach at 5:30, doesn’t fully spread her rays ‘til six. he still has a seven - hour window, and all he has to do is reach the cottage again. the camouflage is working. his pulse is steady.

everything is playing out accordingly, right up until it’s not.

a viral staggers from behind one of the vehicles in the tunnel, an old city bus that blocked it from view. he misses it, focused on a through - path to avoid the others. it knocks into his shoulder. hard.

crane stumbles a little. it wouldn’t be enough to throw him had his footing been on even ground.

his boot slips off the edge of the crevice.

his ankle, the same one roman had fucked up months before, torques harshly in a direction it isn’t supposed to go, skewing his balance sideways.

“oh, f—”

the curse is caught before it’s anything more than a breath.

he falls. water splashes around him.

four feet away, the viral lets out a screech.

the noise. that’s all, he tells himself: just the sudden noise drawing attention. but the filthy pool around him begins to turn filthier, a runoff of blood and entrails slipping from his clothes. he freezes. holds absolutely still, unblinking, barely breathing. three more virals and a handful of shuffling biters are starting to congregate around the water. sensing some disturbance, some change in the air. one of them presses in closer. he realizes what’s about to happen a microsecond before.

the biter trips over the slab and lands in the pool with him, dousing him in a second wave. he scrambles backward, kicks it back when it lunges, but the damage is already done.

they smell him now. they see him.

crane jumps from the pool and bodies the first viral that comes at him. the tunnel fills with shrieks and groans, a ravenous stampede with a single piece of prey.

his machete cuts through the nearest throat. then he breaks into a run.

the firecrackers he throws behind him buy enough time to clear the tunnel’s entrance, to dip into the trees, to move at a flat sprint until ultraviolet lights wink at him between the black canopy. he vaults the awning, grabs hold of the balcony rail.

a volatile’s hunting cry reverberates through the moonlit night.

HARRAN COUNTRYSIDE, DAY 176 ; 6:02:45.

“lena. lena, do you copy? ... shit.”

still nothing, just the static noise of a poor signal. the transmission is weak. he curses under his breath, throws a glance down the ridge behind him, hikes further up the crest. the air thins. he stops and tries again.

“lena, come in. do you copy?”

this time, finally, the static catches traction.

“crane? is that you?"

“thank god. yeah — yeah, brecken, it’s me.”

“holy shit.” relief, even through a weak transmission, hits him center mass. “it’s good to hear your voice, mate. it’s been too fucking long.”

“i — i know, man. i’m sorry. really. i —”

“nah, nah, save that for later, okay? tell me you’re finally through with this poxy country holiday and you’re ready to come home.”

home. that hits, too. emotion swells in his throat. a dammed flood he’s been so diligent to keep at bay.

last night was sleepless. he’d kept watch until sunrise, kept alert, because it occurred to him when he’d hit the water: he doesn’t want to die. losing hope is a dangerous thing. and maybe it is hopeless. maybe the antizin will run dry and he’ll turn, and one of them will have to put him down, like he did rahim and jade, and there won’t be any stopping it. no cure. no way out.

maybe he thought he did want to die — or maybe it was just that he didn’t care if he lived.

home. come back home.

it’s not about him. it’s not himself that he’s living for.

not anymore.

“yeah,” he manages. “yeah. i, uh — i think it’s past time for that.”

brecken blows out a breath. “sanest thing i’ve heard you say in a while. look, let me grab the others and —”

“no. no, don’t do that. i don’t have a lot of time — could lose the signal again at any second. brecken ... listen, just — just tell ‘em i’m on my way, huh? tell ‘em ...”

“yeah. i will.”

“i’m sorry.”

“i know, crane."

a steady inhale is pulled and released.

he hears something. something that seems to shake the air around him, above him; something a lot like the whirring engine of an aircraft. but it can’t be that. there haven’t been any drops in months. squinting against the sun’s rays, crane scans the skyline, searching —

“hang on,” brecken says, “you hear that?”

“what? you’re not tellin’ me it’s loud enough t—”

“there’s a — oi, get ayo up here, right now! — there’s a fucking plane. what the fuck, crane, i thought the GRE weren’t dropping supplies anymore?”

“no, they’re not, they’re — wh— hang on, what do you mean there’s a plane? there’s a plane right —”

“listen, call me again once you’re close, okay? get your ass back here as soon as possible, we’ll talk then.”

“n— wait — brecken, don’t —”

the radio goes dead.

overhead, a fixed - wing transport plane banks left and makes a hairpin turn to circle the cliffside. minimum altitude over rural land is five hundred feet. it’s close.

close enough to catch a flash of color from the massive logo painted on its fuselage.

a medical cross inside a circle, bold letters spelling out GRE.

#battle journals.*#ii / i. hell is empty and all the devils are here.*#are we anywhere near this point in the arc? no #did i write this anyway? absolutely i did

2 notes · View notes