#are waiting some fifty yards away from the base for word that it's safe

[spiritsonic]

Hi Evan! Big fan here, hope I'm not disturbing you at an inconvenient time. I love your work as an artist and writer, but it's not just Sonic that you work on. It would be cool to know more about your work Ensouled. What is it about? Who is the ghost guy and the human girl?

Sure, I’ve been wanting to write some new character bios. Check it all out under the break!

CHARLEY PARKHEARSE

Once, long ago, Charley was the best teamster in Santa Alma county. His stagecoach flew over treacherous mountain roads, One crack of his whip could snuff a candle’s flame from six yards, and any bandit who dared to stop his stage would meet the business end of a rifle. Anyone who cared to comment about his sour temper or murky past knew to keep their voices low… and God help any fool who questioned Charley’s refusal to remove his heavy greatcoat, no matter the weather. 

But Charley’s fame was bound to earn him enemies… When the bandit Sugarfoot learned that Charley was in fact born a █████, the secret spread like wildfire through the mountains. Charley was ruined. He thought his life was over, until he was visited by a being dealing in black magic; a devil known in his human guise as Aurelius Flood. This devil promised to erase Charley’s secret from the minds of Santa Alma’s people, restoring Charley’s reputation, in return for his soul. Charley accepted, though he would not learn the depth of his folly until the night he died… and was raised as a ghost by that same devil, now bound to his service. Still, the devil was true to his word. Charley’s secret was safe, even beyond the grave.

At one point in the many decades since his death, Charley thought he could escape Aurelius’ control. But today… he’s given up that hope. He haunts the roads he was once the master of, frightening drivers to meet his quota of Soul and waiting ‘till his memories fade away, taking the pain of his mistakes with them. That is until, in a flash of ill-advised mercy, Charley spares the life of a young woman he scared off the road…

(Charley is LOOSELY based on Charley Darkey Parkhurst, a real historical figure. Look him up! He's a really cool example of a queer, probably trans person ((by today's standards)) in history. The real Charley's dying wish was to be remembered as a man; a wish that has not been respected by history. I want to explore the pros and cons of living closeted or stealth in an ever-changing world, while also honoring his memory and wishes as best I can in a modern context.)

SEQUOIA LOGANBERRY

Sequoia would like you to believe that she is a monster. It’s easier that way. Ever since her father left for a mistress on the east coast in her senior year of high school, Sequoia has been working a dead-end job at the local amusement park and doing her damndest to drink and drive herself into an early grave. And she almost does it… Until a friggin' SKELETON GUY fishes her out of the lake she drove into?! And now she’s getting these insane migraines and seeing spooky shit everywhere???? 

After a close encounter with death (and Charley), Sequoia develops an unpredictable 6th sense that threatens to finish what she started in her car the other night… Until she’s found by the misanthropic wizard Monty and his much nicer siren husband Luka, who help her get her new powers under control… in trade for her helping them with a few odd jobs. Nothing crazy, just, oh, infiltrating the local magical crime lord’s fey court. Sequoia is just the wild card they need to break a fifty-year standoff between the supernatural powers vying for control over Santa Alma. Sequoia will need to learn fast, about both magic and herself, or else end up a pawn in other people’s plans. Will she be able to make the friends she desperately needs and find direction in her life before she’s swept away?

OTHER CHARACTERS INCLUDE...

MONTY MOUROS, aforementioned misanthropic wizard. Older than he looks. Came to Santa Alma in the 1930’s to earn his fortune, and ended up embroiled in one of Charley’s bids for freedom. It didn’t go well, and he still holds a bitter grudge. He’s guarded the local amusement park, the Boardwalk, from Aurelius Flood for years, but other than that has hidden himself from both the magic and mundane worlds for decades.

LUKA, a siren who lost his singing voice in a trap set by Flood. If not for Monty, it would have taken his life. When they were young the two fell in love, and Luka defied his family’s traditions to be with Monty. They’re still together, and Luka is the only person who can get past Monty’s harsh exterior. Luka now runs a speakeasy for spirits hidden beneath the Boardwalk, where he mixes magical cocktails and turns the rumor mill. He is a kind soul who defines himself through service to others…perhaps to a fault. 

AURELIUS FLOOD, The mastermind behind most of Santa Alma’s woes. A cruelly ambitious leprechaun who thrives on greed, he’s been following the money since the time of the Romans. In the 1800’s he came to the new world, where he found fabulous opportunity during the California gold rush. Assuming a human disguise he carved out a business empire in the mundane world, and a criminal one in the magic world. He built Santa Alma himself, engineering the city’s growth. Fattening a pig for the slaughter. Now, the only thing standing between him and his ultimate payday is Monty and the pivotal bit of territory he controls at the Boardwalk. It’s stymied him for years, but he’s got a new plan…

SUGARFOOT, Flood’s left-hand man. As the illegitimate son of a powerful Californio rancher and an Ohlone woman trapped in the California mission system, fate did not deal Sugar a kind hand. After his father’s family lost their rancho, Sugar turned to a life of crime. He got his sarcastic nickname from a festering leg wound he earned in a shootout with Santa Alma’s top teamster, Charley Parkhearse. As his infection grew, so did his hatred… These mountains should belong to him, not some johnny-come-lately from New Hampshire. So he turned to another stranger for help; Aurelius Flood. In trade for his soul, he gained information; a secret that, if it were to get out, would ruin Charley forever. Sugar leapt at the deal, and got exactly the revenge he’d wanted… until Charley came for him, blinded by rage and shame, and shot him dead in the street. In death, Sugar and Charley found themselves in the same situation… bound to serve Flood forever. As coworkers. Hell would have been a mercy. 

(Sugarfoot is also based on a historical figure of the same name, but almost nothing is known about him other than he was a bandit with a very stinky foot. IRL Charley shot him when he tried to raid his stagecoach.) 

ZINNIA LOGANBERRY, Sequoia’s annoyingly precocious little sister. While Sequoia turned to delinquency after their parents’ divorce to avoid her feelings, Zinnia threw herself into her studies for the same reason. She has become the model student and daughter, earning their workaholic mom’s favor… but man, this kid is Burnt. Out. When she finds out about Sequoia’s new adventures with the supernatural, she throws herself into this new world as a release from her demanding daily life only to once again take things too far. And now, the consequences come with fangs, and hair, and claws…

DEBORAH LOGANBERRY, Sequoia and Zinnia’s mother. She knows she could be doing better by her daughters, but ever since her no-good husband left them, she’s been the family’s sole provider. Her job in the city’s planning and zoning department is the only thing keeping them off of the streets, and the price of housing in Santa Alma is only going up. It’s a matter of survival; surely, once they’re more financially stable, she’ll be able to patch things up with Sequoia. And maybe something will come of the new friendship she’s struck up with Mr. Flood. He IS quite the successful developer, after all… perhaps they could be more than friends?

[secret-engima]

Snippet of Souls of the Sea (Still Belong to Blue Tides)

(since I have no self control and I want to share and some of y’all seem to want to see it, have the snippet I mentioned earlier! In which Nyx’s day goes from Boring to Very Much Not In Just A Few Minutes)

...

     Nyx chewed the piece of ration he’d snitched from Libertus’s pack idly as he settled further on his haunches.

     Keeping watch was so boring. But that was the front line for you. Endless minutes of boring inaction punctuated by total chaos and bloodshed. Still, he would have thought he’d feel more alert than this. This was the furthest they’d ever pushed Niflheim back. Another aggressive, hit and run sabotage campaign from the Marshal paying off with its usual brutal flare.

     He wondered what the Captain would have thought of it, the irony of them making more progress in the two months since Cor the Immortal took over than in all the years Captain had been fighting and bleeding and grouching alongside them. Then he shut that thought down, because wondering about that led to wondering about why Captain had disappeared three months ago and there was no point in thinking about something for which there were no leads or hope. The Captain was still listed MIA, so there was a … thin hope he would return someday, but that would mean he’d been captured.

     Knowing Captain, Nyx thought the man would prefer to be dead than three months a prisoner of the Nifs.

     Something in the air changed, the sensation of a predator watching him from the undergrowth and Nyx kept his shoulders relaxed even as he shifted his heels under him for a better jump and carefully rested one hand on a kukri hilt. He looked around casually, refused to tense up when he saw nothing but the feeling of being watched by a greater predator increased. If it’s another freaking voretooth pack…

     Somewhere to his left, something cracked under the weight of an unseen creature. Nyx stood up, not even pretending to be oblivious as he stared at the wilds outside their temporary base, both hands on his kukri and magic bristling slowly under his skin. He didn’t call out, because it was probably just wildlife that was curious about the foreign presences in its territory. Nifs were rarely this stealthy, considering their love of bombing everything from their ships or unleashing waves of clattering MT units. Still.

     All the hairs on Nyx’s neck were standing up. He breathed and was inwardly startled to taste ocean salt on his tongue. No- not ocean salt. That was impossible. But … there was the impression of it. The impression of ocean salt and hissing waves, the glitter of sleek serpentine scales in the corner of his eyes when it wasn’t there. He inhaled and felt something inside him quiver, something that screamed with the same warning he’d felt when he’d wandered too far from his parents on the shoreline when he was boy, had splashed too deep into unchecked waters and had almost been snapped up by one of the great Silver Serpents that sometimes lurked there as they migrated.

     Then-, a rustle of leaves, a glimpse of a human silhouette in the shadows of the brush. Nyx drew his kukri and raised his voice, sharp and loud —both to be intimidating and to alert the other glaive in the camp that they had company—, “Hey. How about you get out here and introduce yourself rather than lurk? This is a restricted area.” Nothing, Nyx eyed the spot he’d thought he’d seen the silhouette and was disconcerted that he couldn’t see it anymore. No Niflheim soldier was that stealthy in the wilds, that was almost Galahd skill. A refugee perhaps? Or a Hunter taking a shortcut and surprised to find their base, “If you’re a Hunter,” he called cautiously as more glaives scrambled up the wall behind him to see what he was yelling at, “then come out and say so. You won’t be in trouble as long as you don’t cause any.”

     “Nyx?” Libertus breathed in his ear.

     “Someone’s out there, might be alone, might have company.”

     Tredd twitched on his other side, sniffed the air and muttered, “Why do I smell the ocean?” Oh good that wasn’t Nyx’s senses failing him.

     “I have no idea,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth, sensed Libertus shivering faintly out of the corner of his eye, just as alarmed by the eerie aura of an ocean predator nearby as Nyx was. Nyx raised his voice again, “Come out or be considered a hostile!”

     There was a moment where nothing happened and then-. A boy. No warning, no sound of undergrowth, he was just there, a teenager of maybe fourteen years standing just a few yards away, on the very edge of their perimeter, “I’m not an enemy,” he called in a voice that immediately made Nyx revise his mental estimation of from teenager to pre-teen, “are you really Kingsglaive?”

     Libertus narrowed his eyes at the boy still half-hidden in the shadows, “Yeah, and you’re trespassing on our perimeter. Identify yourself!” The boy took a few slow steps out of the shadows, hands away from his sides and safely away from the short sword Nyx could see peaking over his shoulder and Nyx hissed softly.

     The kid was a mess. Thin as a twig, his wrist bones on display beneath tattered sleeves, his cheeks too hollow to be healthy even if he wasn’t drastically underweight, his clothes filthy from endless travel, and his stance wide and cautious. Skittish. Either the Nifs are getting more dedicated in their acting, Nyx thought, or this kid is a refugee. Nyx sheathed his kukri and ignored Libertus’s warning hiss as he jumped down from the wall and approached the kid. The boy watched him with too-sharp, too-old eyes that promised a fight if Nyx tried anything. Nyx leaned down a little so they were closer to eye level, “What’s your name kid, and what are you doing out here?” The boy didn’t look Galahdian. He had no braids and paid no attention to the braids in Nyx’s own hair. But that didn’t mean Nyx’s heart wasn’t already going out to him —Nyx had seen too many Galahdian children in this kid’s position, had seen Crowe in this position, had himself been in this position at one point—.

     The boy took a slightly shaky breath, closed his eyes, then opened them and very slowly reached for the harness holding his sword. Unbuckling it and keeping every movement non-threatening, he held the sheathed gladius in the flat of his palms and turned it so that Nyx could see the battered crest engraved on the hilt, “My name is Gladiolus Amicitia,” said the boy as he looked Nyx in the eyes, “And I would very much like to go home.”

     Nyx reared back as if slapped because that- that was impossible. There was no way this kid was the missing —dead, everyone knew he was dead even if he was officially MIA— son of the Shield. The boy had gone missing in Tenebrae. That was across the entire ocean, through Niflheim controlled waters and then Niflheim-conquered territory. It couldn’t … really be …

     Nyx looked into too-old, too tired eyes that burned a war-aged amber in a too-thin face and found himself believing anyway. Nyx ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the incredulous mutters of the other glaives on the wall, “You got any proof other than that sword, kid?”

     The boy seemed to think, then hesitantly shook his head, “You wouldn’t know the safe words of my line.” He paused, “If- If I could talk to Cor Leonis, or my father, I could prove it.”

     Nyx mentally made peace with the fact that if this kid was not who he said he was then Nyx was going to be in so much trouble and gestured toward the base, “Gimme the sword and we’ll call up the Marshal. How about that?”

     With a grimace the boy turned over his sword and followed Nyx into the base under the incredulous stares of the other glaives. Libertus continued to give Nyx a despairing look as Nyx called up the Marshal using their “important business only” communication line. The Marshal picked up with a curt, “Report.” Because of course he did. Of course he had the number of the emergency communication line memorized or labeled.

     Nyx took a deep breath and bid his career goodbye if this went wrong, “There’s a kid here who insists on talking to you, sir. Showed up on the perimeter with a banged up old gladius bearing a noble crest. He says-.” Nyx hesitated. Even if the line was supposed to be secure, paranoia made him reluctant to say it, “He’s calling a Code Thunderroc, sir.” Code Thunderroc, the unexpected return of an MIA soldier. Closest he could get without blurting it out.

     The Marshal’s voice held a furious growl that made Nyx wince, “What crest.”

     “Amicitia crest, sir.”

     There was a fragile pause, brittle on the other end and then a subdued, “Put him on the line.”

     Nyx passed the phone to the boy, who put the phone to his ear and physically sagged when he heard the Marshal’s voice on the other end, angry as it was. Amber eyes blinked back tears and for the first time the kid looked like an actual kid as he said in a wobbling voice, “Godfather Cor, it’s me. I … I want to go home. Please. I want to see Minn Konungr.”

[study-coffee-chicago]

Stars on your Sleeve (A Ranger! Jay imagine)

Not a Halstead sister fic, just Jay and the reader as a child. (Sort of daddy! Jay)

The rain drummed down on Jay's tan helmet, the sound soothing him as he focused his eyes across the dark of the Tabernas Desert. Despite it being cold and wet, his focus was razor-sharp. He looked through the scope of his sniper at the sparsely vegetated, and sandy yet rocky terrain. He kept his eyes peeled for anything or anyone out of the ordinary, most notably Los Rebeldes.

Los Rebeldes (The Rebels) had thrown over the Spanish government and turned it into a warzone. Anyone who went against them was instantly killed. Anyone who refused to serve in their army had their families taken away. Jay didn't care much about the politics of the matter. All he cared about was making sure that no more innocents were harmed because of some fringe group getting their way and wanting to keep it that way. It wasn't Afghanistan, but it was the same goal.

When the war broke out, he knew he had to come back, to fight and protect. So, when Mouse had mentioned that was going to reenlist, Jay had been right behind him, despite Hailey arguing with him. They had been married for a year at the time and she didn't want to lose her husband to the gruesomeness that was battle. But, he told her he'd be safe. He told her that he had Mouse and all the other platoon members that would keep him safe, just as he would do the same for them. And now here he was, three weeks left of his deployment, still safe, and as ready as ever to get back to his wife.

As he looked into the scope, something being swept across the land caught his eye. And then, the wind died down, stopping it. He moved his sniper to be directly looking at it close up. Wet and matted, covered in dirt, but no doubt had it been loved by a child for many years. Then, he saw something out of the corner of his eye and moved around once more.

The feet were small, wet from the rain. He couldn't see much else because the rest of the body was hidden behind a bush. If he could get closer, he'd be able to see that the toes were starting to turn blue. It hadn't dipped below freezing, but the rain made it feel like it had.

"Mouse, I see something on my nine. Does that look like a kid to you?" Jay radioed.

Mouse turned his gun from where he was fifty feet away from Jay and zoomed his scope in as close as he could. "Oh my God."

That was all the confirmation Jay needed. "Mouse, I need you and Logans to cover me. I'm going to get them."

"Halstead, you can't--"

"Logans, I can and I will. It's a child, they're defenseless and last I checked we're here to protect them, so cover me."

He spotted the teddy bear still laying on the ground about one hundred feet away from who they presumed to be the child.

Jay held his gun in front of him, using the light from his sniper to guide him toward the child. Mouse was right behind him and Logans was a few yards behind them, walking backward to watch their six.

Jay stopped. "What are you doing?" Mouse asked as Jay reached down.

"I think this belongs to them." With his gun still trained in front of him, he grasped the sopping wet teddy bear. He noticed it was missing an eye. And then, he continued walking, boots heavy against the ground.

Jay continuously checked his three and nine as they got closer and closer to the child. For all they knew, this could be a ploy to take the three of them prisoner. But, there was no one.

"I'll run ahead, go check to make sure there's no one there," Logans volunteered.

"Copy," Jay answered, a few feet away from the child. Logans ran up ahead without even glancing down at the child, his main mission to make sure his fellow brothers in arms were safe.

Jay swallowed as he saw what lay on the ground in front of him. A girl, no more than ten, lay on the cold ground only wearing a dress and a small locket, which were now sopping wet. Her fingers and toes were a pale shade of blue and her lips were cracked and purple.

"All clear," Logans said as he ran back behind Mouse to watch their six once more.

Jay swung his gun behind him and took off his helmet. "Jay, what are you doing?" Mouse asked.

"I don't want to scare her if she wakes up, Mouse."

He leaned down and pressed his fingers to the girl's neck. "I've got a pulse. It's slow. She's probably slightly hypothermic, but it's there."

Jay balled his hand into a first and placed it on the girl's chest, rubbing hard and fast, hoping to warm her up.

You woke with a start. You widened your eyes as you saw someone crouched above you, brown hair, freckles, and green eyes with water dripping down his face. You tried to back away, but you couldn't feel your fingers, and that made it hard to push yourself up into a seated position.

The man took his hand off you and then held both his hands up in a sign of surrender. "This is Halstead to base, patch me through to Diaz," the man spoke into something like a walkie-talkie that was strapped to the band in front of him.

"Copy, Halstead. Patching you through to Diaz."

You jumped, not knowing where the second voice was coming from and Jay noticed. "Hey, hey, estás segura, cariña, estás segura." He used one of the few phrases he could say in Spanish to tell you that you were safe.

Upon hearing your first language, you relaxed a little. Then, you noticed the patch on his sleeve. It was the one with the red and white stripes and the stars. Your mom had always told you that if anything happened, to look for the men with the stars and red stripes on their sleeves because they would help you. That was one of the last things she told you five years ago and you were glad you had remembered.

"Diaz," you heard.

"Hey, Emilia, I've got a little girl here, signs of hypothermia, can't be more than ten. I got her to wake up. I have no idea if she speaks English, so what do I do?"

"First off, ask her her name. I know you know how to say that."

"¿Como te llamas, cariña?"

"Y/N," you answered.

"Y/N. Me llamo Jay." He picked up the teddy bear beside him. "Diaz, how do I ask her if this is hers?"

"¿Es tuyo?" Emilia answered.

"¿Es tuyo?" Jay repeated, his horrible Spanish accent showing.

You nodded and Jay held out your teddy bear to you. Slowly, you reached your hand out and took it from him and then, despite it being sopping wet, hugged it tightly to your chest.

"¿Hablas inglés, Y/N?" Jay asked.

You nodded, telling him that you did in fact speak English. At the orphanage you and your older sister had been at, the workers spoke both Spanish and English. And, since you had been there for five years, you had picked up most of the language.

"I'm Jay," he told you once more and then motioned behind him. "That's my friend Mouse and way back there is my friend Chad. I promise we won't hurt you. Now, can you come with us?"

"Stars on your mangas. Yes, I come," you answered. Despite having been around English for five years, you were bound to make mistakes sometimes.

"Diaz, help me out here. Mangas?"

"Sleeves, she said you have stars on your sleeve. I think she's talking about the American flag patch."

"Thanks. Can we get a truck to our location stat? I don't think we could carry her all the way back there seeing as it's a three-hour trek. She might get worse."

"Copy. Pulling location and sending emergency trucks your way. Want me to stay on the line?"

"That'd be great. Thanks, Emilia."

Jay took off his heavy coat and held it out you. You nodded at him and he wrapped it around your small body. "What's your bear's name?"

"Osito."

Diaz chuckled on her end. "Translates to teddy or little bear," she told Jay.

"Thanks for the info."

Despite the heavy jacket, you shivered. Jay wrapped an arm around you. "Help will be here soon, Y/N. For now I just need you to stay awake for me, can you do that? Diaz, how do I tell her not to sleep?"

"No despierte," she answered.

"No despierte, Y/N, no despierte."

"Halstead, emergency's thirty minutes out," Mouse told him. "It's your call. Go back to where we were or stay here."

He looked to you. He didn't want to move you if you weren't comfortable. "Wait here or wait somewhere else?" he asked you.

"Here," you answered.

"You heard her boys, we're staying here."

***

You didn't know how long it had been, but the nice soldier, Jay, had let you drink out of his big, round water bottle. He told you it was called a canteen. You had never heard that word before. He had helped you hold it since your hands were still numb and blue from the cold. Once you took one sip, you didn't stop until it was all gone.

Jay didn't mind that you had drunk the rest of his water, which was only half full when he had given it to you. You probably needed it more than him anyway; he had no idea how long you had been out in the desert without anything to drink.

You heard a truck motor in the distance, causing you to jump. "This is Halstead to Base," Jay started, "is there a truck heading towards our current location?"

"There is," the voice on the other end answered. "Do you see them?"

"I see them!" Logans yelled to Mouse who relayed the message to Jay.

"Copy, yeah we see them."

The noise grew louder and you squeezed your eyes shut. "Diaz, you still there?" Jay asked.

"Still here. What's up?"

"Can you tell Y/N that the truck is just to help her and then we're taking her someplace safe? I know she understands English, but I thought it might be a little hard for her to understand since there might be some military words mixed in there that she doesn't know. She looks pretty scared to me."

"Yeah, I can do that."

Over the soldier's radio, you heard a woman, who introduced herself to you as Emilia, speaking Spanish. She told you that there was a big truck coming your way and inside were a doctor and a nurse who would help get you better. Then, they'd take you back to a big house with lots of people where you could rest and eat some food. She told you that you'd be safe there.

"She seem calmer to you, Jay?"

"Actually yeah, she does."

"Halstead, truck's here!" Mouse yelled.

"Copy!" Then, he turned to you. "Hey, I'm gonna pick you up now and carry you over to that truck." He pointed ahead of him. "More of my friends are in there and there's doctors who can help you get warm. Are you okay with that?" You nodded, understanding most of what he was saying. "Okay, up you go. One, two, three."

He picked you up as the doctor and nurse jumped out of the back of the truck.

"A kid? How'd you find her?" the nurse, Ava, asked.

"I saw her teddy bear on the ground and then I looked and there she was. I don't know what happened to her. All I know is that she's showing signs of hypothermia and her name's Y/N."

"Okay, let's get in the truck and we'll take a look at her in there. That way me and Colin can actually see what we're working with."

"Copy," Jay answered. He climbed into the truck behind Ava and Mouse and Logans followed.

Jay went to set you down on the stretcher that sat between the two benches of the truck, equipped with an IV pole and other medical supplies, but you held onto his shirt. You didn't know what these people were going to do to you. The other guy didn't have stars on his sleeve. He could be bad.

"¡No! !No, lo tiene una bandera! ¡No me voy!"

Jay looked at Nurse Ava and Dr. Collins, seeing if they understood what she said, as you put your face into Jay's shirt. When they just stared back at him with a blank expression, Jay wanted to kill whoever decided not to send a bilingual nurse or doctor. If they couldn't send one of them, the least they could've done was send a translator with them.

"Mouse, get Diaz on your radio. I won't be able to hear her through mine since Y/N's covering it. Diaz, you can still hear us though, right?" Jay asked.

Jay heard muffling from underneath him and he took it as yes.

"Diaz, it's Mouse. You hear me?" Mouse asked, moving closer to Jay so they could both hear and speak into his radio.

"Loud and clear. Need me to translate?"

"Please," Jay replied.

"Okay. What she just said was that she doesn't want to go to him--I'm assuming him means Dr. Collins--because he doesn't have a flag on his sleeve," Emilia Diaz answered.

"Okay, let me try something."

"Oh God," Mouse muttered.

"Y/N," Jay started, causing you to move your head to look up at him. "This is a doctor. I know him. Es amigo."

"¿Su amigo?"

"Sí," Jay answered, confirming that the doctor was in fact his friend.

"He will not hurt me?" you asked.

"I promise he will not hurt you."

You looked at Dr. Collins and he smiled at you. "Okay," you said.

"I'm gonna put you down now."

He set you down on the stretcher and spoke loudly so that it could be heard through Mouse's radio. "Diaz, I'm gonna need you to translate this stuff because I doubt she knows medical stuff in English."

"Gotcha, doc," Diaz replied.

"Y/N, I have to tie off your arm and then put a needle in it so that warm saline gets into your body. That way, you'll warm up and your toes and fingers won't be cold anymore."

He waited for Diaz to translate and waited for your expression to change when she mentioned the needle to you. It did.

"I promise you'll only feel a small pinch."

"And you can squeeze my hand really, really hard," Jay added.

Diaz translated and you looked to Jay who had stretched his hand out towards you. You took it and the doctor counted down from three, in Spanish, but on one he stuck the IV in your arm and you squeezed Jay's hand as hard as your numb little fingers could.

You relaxed once the needle was in, starting to feel warmer.

Nurse Ava looked at your locket and whispered something to Dr. Collins. Jay knew what was up. They needed to take your necklace off right away and then put it in a bag to be looked at by tech so that they could be sure that there were no cameras or microphones in it. Nobody would put it past Los Rebeldes to use kids to find out what American soldiers were doing.

"Sweetie, we need to take off your necklace," Ava said. "We just need to look at it and you can have it back tomorrow."

"No. It is mine," you answered.

"I know it's yours, which is why you'll get it back tomorrow." She wanted to say that she had to take your teddy bear too, just to make sure that there were no microphones or cameras in there as well, but she could only fight one battle at a time.

She turned to Jay and spoke really fast so that you couldn't understand her.

"I know. I'll handle it." Jay crouched down next to you. "Y/N, we know that this necklace is yours," he spoke slowly, so that you were able to understand, "Because of the stuff the doctor put in your arm, you're gonna warm up fast. And, sometimes if there's metal on you, it can burn you because you heat up too fast. ¿Entiendes?"

"A little," you answered Jay's question of if you understood what he had told you.

"Diaz, can you repeat what I just told Y/N about her locket?"

Diaz translated what Jay had told you into Spanish, and he watched as you nodded in understanding and reached back to undo the clasp of your locket. But, you couldn't get it. Ava reached over to undo it, but she couldn't get it either.

"The clasp is so rusty that it's stuck," Ava said.

"Let me take a look," Jay said and moved behind you. He gently touched your neck as he grabbed the chain of the locket and then looked at the clasp. Ava was right. There was no way this was going to come off easily.

"Y/N," Jay started. "Ava's gonna pull the necklace a little bit and when she does I need you to sit really still, okay?"

"Okay," you answered.

"What are you doing?" Ava hissed so quietly so that you couldn't hear as Jay reached into a pocket of his cargo pants.

He pulled out his pocket knife and flicked it open. "It's our only option. I'll just go right through the clasp because it'll be easiest."

"Fine." She pulled on the chain of the necklace, moving it so that it was far away from you, but not so much that it was choking you.

"Y/N, I need you to stay really still."

You nodded and then you felt the necklace fall off, the heart-shaped charm falling on the floor of the truck.

"You broke it!" you yelled.

Your sister had given that to you when she heard people coming into the orphanage two days ago. She had quickly clasped it on you and told you to hide in the crawl space under your shared bunk bed. Inside the heart-shaped charm was a picture of your dad on one side and a picture of your mom on the other. Your parents had given it to your sister for her tenth birthday and she always let you look at it when you missed them. You had gotten the teddy bear and she had gotten the necklace. But, now you had both, the only picture of your parents inside that locket and now it was broken.

Jay rushed to pick it up before it bounced out of the truck. "Got it!"

"But you broke it!"

Jay laughed at how you thought it couldn't be fixed. "No, we just need a new chain to put the necklace on. It's okay."

"You can fix it?"

"Yes, I can fix it." He knew that if he could get his hands on a chain and a clasp that he could, but he wasn't going to tell you that. All you needed to know was that it could be fixed.

"Do not lose it," you told him.

"I will not lose it, Y/N. I promise."

You yawned, the tiredness of the last few days finally taking over you as you started to warm up. You were safe and the stretcher was softer than the ground you had previously been on.

Jay moved his jacket from behind you and placed it over top of you like a blanket. "You can sleep. It's safe. You're safe." he told you.

You clutched your teddy bear as you snuggled into Jay's jacket, allowing the sound of the truck and the quiet whispers around you to lull you to sleep.

***

"You are not taking her teddy bear!"

"Halstead, we have--"

"Listen to me! You do not have to do anything. That girl was cold, terrified, and alone when I found her. That stuffed animal was probably her only comfort item, besides that necklace, which we have already taken away from her for the night by the way, so there is no way in hell I am letting you take it away from her!"

"Mmmm, ¿Qúe estaís haciendo?" you asked, rolling over and trying to remember where you were.

Jay shut his mouth the minute he heard you talking. "Emilia," he said.

"She asked what we doing," she translated, as their superior officer stared at the two of them.

"That's a damn good question," Jay said, crossing his arms and glaring at his superior officer. "Care to explain what you were going to do, Captain?"

"I'll handle this," Emilia mumbled, knowing that a fight would just break out and Jay could get in trouble for going up against a superior. She, not as much though since she was just a translator.

Emilia explained to you that you were in the hospital part of the big house she had told you about over the radio earlier. She asked you how you were feeling and you said good, warm. You also mentioned how the bed was soft and she smiled at your innocentness.

Then, Emilia asked if you wanted to take a bath, a warm bath. You said yes. She asked if she could take Osito and give him his own bath, make him all nice and clean for you. You agreed and handed her the bear, causing Jay's eyes to go wide.

Emilia called for Ava and said that you wanted to take a bath. You looked up at Jay. "You come, too?" you asked.

"Where are we going?" Jay asked as enthusiastically as he could.

"I get a warm bath! So does Osito!" you exclaimed.

Jay chuckled at your cuteness. Even though you were eight, you still spoke like a five-year-old since English was your second language. But, he didn't mind; knowing two languages at your age was an accomplishment in and of itself. After all, he could only speak English.

"I'm sorry, but I can't come with you," he answered, squatting down so that he was eye-level with you. "But I'll be here when you get back."

"You keep Osito safe?"

"I will," he answered.

You nodded and took Ava's hand and headed out of the room in Med Station to take a bath.

"What did you tell her, Diaz?" their captain asked.

"I just asked her if she wanted a bath and that we'd wash her bear for her. That way, we can check it out while she's gone."

"Good thinking. I'll leave you two to bring it to security."

"Yes sir," both Jay and Emilia answered.

"That's not all she told you was it?" Jay asked as they made their way through the compound and to the security sector.

"She uh, she said she's never had a warm bath before, that the water was always cold at the orphanage," Emilia answered sadly.

"So she has no family?"

"She mentioned a sister, but when I asked where she was, she didn't answer, and that's when I mentioned giving the bear a bath. Something had to have happened there for her to leave and walk across the desert all alone."

"Poor kid," Jay sighed. "Now, where are you gonna wash her bear?"

"Me?" Emilia asked. "Oh no, Halstead, that's your job. I'm gonna go look for some clothes for her. Figured I'd be better at that than you."

"So you just want me to walk into a barracks full of grown men with a stuffed animal?"

"Precisely," Emilia smiled. "And, if I recall correctly, you still owe me a favor."

"Yeah, from when we were sixteen and my car broke down and you gave me a ride home!"

"Favor's a favor. Now get going. Don't want Y/N to think that you stole her bear. After all, you did promise to keep Osito safe," she laughed.

Jay rolled his eyes as he continued walking towards the barracks and Emilia went to the left to try and find you some clothes that might actually fit you.

He walked into the barracks and then into the communal bathrooms. He turned on one of the sinks and put your teddy bear under the cold water and wrung it out, not so hard that he'd rip it, but hard enough that he could get all the dirt out. He repeated the process for ten minutes until the water finally ran clear.

"The hell you got there, Halstead?" a fellow soldier of Jay's asked.

"I found a little girl when we were out last night and we have to get it checked for mics and cams, so to get it away from her, Diaz promise that the bear would get a bath...which meant that I gotta wash it," Jay answered, grabbing some paper towel to dry Osito off as best he could.

"I bet she'll appreciate that," he answered.

"Yeah," Jay agreed and then left to go bring the bear to security.

As expected, there were no microphones or cameras in it...which Jay could've told them that. Then, he walked back to Med Station just in time to see you walking back in your room along with Ava.

"Osito!" you exclaimed, running up to Jay.

"Here you go, cariña. All nice and clean." He handed you the bear and you hugged it to your chest.

"Look! My dress has bears on it!" you exclaimed, referring to your hospital gown. Somehow, someway, the nurses had children's gowns on the base. Jay wondered if they had expected more child casualties here and the thought made him internally shudder.

"I can see that. How are you feeling?"

You pursed your lips, trying to think of the word in English. "Clean!" you answered.

Jay laughed at this. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, I'm gonna be right back okay? I'll be right over there." He pointed out the door to the nurses' station.

"Okay, Jay."

Jay. His heart swelled when he heard your little voice say his name. And at that moment, he knew he'd do anything and everything to protect you. He didn't know what you had been through, but he knew that he'd make damn sure that you wouldn't get left behind again.

***

Jay was abruptly woken from his sleep by Dr. Collins. "Whoa, whoa, Halstead. It's Dr. Collins," he quickly said, putting his hands in front of his face in a protective position as Jay started to swing.

Jay shook his head and slowly lowered his hands. "Sorry, habit."

"No big deal. I suspect most people here would do the same. Now, I need you to come with me."

"Why?" Jay asked, slipping his feet into his boots.

"The girl you brought in--"

"Y/N?"

"Yeah, her. She keeps asking for you. She woke up and she won't go back to sleep and she said she wants you."

"But why me?" he asked as they exited the barracks.

"You were the one who found her, correct?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with it?"

"What did you say to her when you were there?"

"I told her that she's safe, told her my name, and then asked if she wanted to wait where we were or somewhere else. She said she wanted to wait where we were, so that's what we did."

"I see," Dr. Collins started, "you gave her some semblance of control."

"What?"

"You asked her if she wanted to stay there or go somewhere else and actually did what she wanted. She feels safe with you. She trusts you, Halstead."

She trusts you, Halstead.

They entered Med Station and then walked to your room. Jay heard your quiet sniffles before he saw you.

You were clutching your bear to your chest, Ava was next to you trying to get you to sleep, but you just shook your head back and forth. It was too dark, too quiet. You wanted your sister.

"Hey, cariña," Jay whispered, crouching down in front of the bed.

"J-Jay," you stuttered through tears.

"Yeah, I'm here. What's wrong?" he asked slowly, making sure that you could understand.

"I can not sleep. Miss sister."

"You miss your sister?" he asked. You nodded. "I miss my brother sometimes, too. And my wife."

Wife. You didn't know that word. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He pointed to his wedding band and you understood what he meant. He had a princess at home. Your dad always told you that your mom was his princess and she always said that he was her prince. And, the rings were to make sure they stayed prince and princess.

"¿Princesa?" you asked.

"She is my princess, yes."

"Is she pretty?"

"She is really, really pretty."

"You cry for her and your brother at night?"

Now that, that question took Jay off guard. But, he did occasionally do that...like when he missed their wedding anniversary because he was overseas. "Oh, yeah," he answered. "Adults cry too and it's okay."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, how about we go to sleep and you can tell me about your sister tomorrow. I will tell you about my brother and my princess tomorrow, too." He made a conscious choice not to use contractions when talking to you because, if your speaking was any indication, you hadn't picked up on those yet. But, wow, he was still impressed by your English skills.

Ava stood up and turned off the light. She went to leave but was stopped. "Too dark," you said.

Jay reached into one of the many pockets of his cargo pants and pulled out a flashlight. He clicked it on. "Better?" You nodded. "Now, how about you go to sleep?"

"You stay?"

Jay wasn't planning on staying, but when you asked that, he knew he couldn't say no. "I will stay."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Jay hadn't broken any of his promises to you so far, so you expected him to still be here in the morning when you woke up.

***

It had been a week since Jay and the others had found you and your strength was finally back up to where it normally was. Jay had introduced you to his wife, Hailey, over a Skype call and he was right, she was pretty. When Jay told a joke, that you didn't understand, Hailey laughed, which caused you to laugh, too. And, before Jay knew it, he was laughing as well.

From that call, Jay had learned how old you were because Hailey had asked you. You were eight and your favorite color was purple. Your favorite animal was a bear and your favorite food...well you didn't really have one because all your food at the orphanage was boring and bland. You were fed for survival there, not enjoyment.

Stateside, Hailey's thoughts were littered with the little Spanish girl that Jay had saved. She'd be lying if she didn't see a connection between you two. How much you trusted him and how he looked at you with the light in his eyes that was only ever seen when he was at home. During these months on deployment during their weekly Skype calls, Hailey had only seen that light once: the call when you were next to him.

"You seem happy," Mouse pointed out as Jay was tying his boots the next morning, about to go grab breakfast from the chow hall.

"They said that Y/N can go outside and play now. She's been asking to go outside for the past three days. And now she finally can."

"You really care about her, don't you?"

"She's just a kid, man," Jay answered. "And the way we found her, what she must've gone through. I just want to make her feel safe."

"I get it. Just don't get too attached. You gotta go out one more time before you leave."

Mouse was right of course. He did have to leave the base and go into no man's land one more time to stand guard with Mouse, Logans, and a few others before the end of his deployment in two weeks.

Jay slumped his shoulders. "What if something happens to me when we're out there?"

"What?" Jay had never spoken like that before. His focus was always on the task ahead of him. His best friend had never heard him ask a question like that before in their three deployments together or during risky raids back in Chicago as part of the Intelligence Unit.

"What if they find us and we don't come back? What's Y/N going to think? That I abandoned her? That I broke a promise to her?"

"Jay, man, you are getting way too close to this kid. If it's gonna affect the way that you do your job, you gotta take a step back."

"I know that. What if I-- you know what? Forget it."

Jay stood up to go brush his teeth, but Mouse followed him.

"C'mon, Jay. Talk to me."

Jay sighed. "Fine. But not here. Let's go grab our guns."

After grabbing their guns, the two walked to a secluded space on the base, a place where they usually cleaned their weapons. And, since it was so early, no one was around they could talk freely. But, they had to make it look like they were here to clean their weapons, which is why Jay had his sniper rifle on the table, already unscrewing it, ready to clean the barrel.

"What if I didn't go?" Jay asked breaking the silence.

"Go where? What are you talking about?" Mouse asked, taking apart his gun as well.

"What if, the next time we have to leave Base, I didn't go. What if I just stayed behind."

"You can't do that! One, Smith would find out pretty damn fast. And two, you can be dishonorably discharged for insubordination for going against the orders of a superior officer! Are you crazy?"

"Smith's got kids, right?" Jay asked, referring to their captain.

"I think so. Why?"

"Maybe if I talked to him and told him the reason that I want to stay back is because of Y/N, then maybe he'd let me."

"You know you wouldn't be getting out of this unscathed, right? You'd be on kitchen or latrine duty for the rest of the tour."

"I know that," Jay groaned.

They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes until Mouse broke it. "You really have a soft spot for this girl, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah I do." Jay paused, putting his gun back together. "I just, I wonder where she's gonna go after she gets better. She was at an orphanage before we found her, a place that was supposed to keep her safe, Mouse. And, the way we found her, they obviously didn't do their jobs."

"You know who might know where she's going?"

They both looked at each other and nodded. Diaz.

"Emilia," Jay said in a sing-song voice as he saw Emilia round the corner in the chow hall with her breakfast.

"Oh, no. You only use that voice when you want something," she said as she headed to her table.

Jay and Mouse sat down across from her. "Well, you're not wrong."

"The number of times I heard that voice in high school when he wanted to cheat off my homework was astronomical, Mouse," Emilia said.

"In my defense, it wasn't cheating. It was checking my answers." Emilia raised an eyebrow. "Fine. It was checking my answers and changing them."

"That's better. Now, what do you two want?"

Mouse held his hands up in surrender. "It's all Jay this time."

Emilia turned her attention to Jay. "What do you want?"

"I know that you're on good terms with basically everybody here, so I was wondering if maybe you'd know where Y/N is going once she gets better?"

Emilia sighed, knowing the attachment Jay had to you. "Last I heard is that she's gonna go back to another orphanage."

"Any idea when that might be?"

"Maybe a month, month and a half at most."

"So, we'll essentially be getting her to feel comfortable and safe here and then she'll just up and move again."

"When you put it like that, yeah. I'm sorry, Jay."

"Yeah, thanks." He turned to Mouse. "Let's go grab some breakfast."

***

Jay walked into Captain Smith's office, nervous as hell. "Captain," Jay spoke with a curt nod.

"Halstead, what can I do for you? I've been meaning to tell Diaz that that was a good idea on how to get the little girl's bear away from her."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to pass that on to her."

"How is the little girl?"

"Doing better, sir. She's been asking to go outside and play, so I'll probably stop by later to take her outside, maybe start a soccer game."

"She'd probably like that. Now, I can tell that you didn't just come in here to update me on how she's doing.  Would I be correct?"

"You're correct, sir. I came to ask you if there is any way that I don't have to go out on my next scheduled guard post."

"I'm assuming that I don't have to tell you that if I tell you that you have to go and you refuse, that that would be grounds for insubordination."

"No, sir."

"Can I ask what prompted this?" Captain Smith had heard stories about Jay's time in Afghanistan and the man in front of him never backed down from a fight.

"It's Y/N, the girl I rescued, sir. She feels safe with me and I don't want to leave her. I don't want to be another person who leaves her." Jay hoped his captain understood the unspoken words that the sentiment conveyed.

"Halstead, I understand where you're coming from. I have kids of my own and I'd be lying if I told you that whenever I have to go off base in combat, that they aren't at the forefront of my mind. But, it's what we signed up for. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do.

"I understand, sir. Thank you for your time."

***

"Hey, cariña," Jay said happily as he walked into your room just before ten o'clock. "Did you get new clothes?" he asked, overexaggerating his surprise.

"Yes! Emilia give them to me!"

You were currently in a pair of shorts and a way too big t-shirt that was made tighter by bringing the back together using a hair tie. Emilia had taken a pair of shorts she had with her (no doubt to be used on one of the rare days when they got to go into the city) and had cut and sewn them so they were smaller.

"She did, did she?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you ready to go outside?"

You jumped out of bed at that. "Go outside! Go outside!"

You grabbed his hand and practically dragged him out of the room. Who knew you could have so much strength in that little body of yours? Jay could barely stop and tell a nurse where you were going. But, then he laughed, seeing as you were going in the wrong direction.

"Wrong way, cariña," he laughed as he stopped walking.

"Oh." You scrunched up your eyebrows. "You go first."

"Okay, I'll go first. Do you want to keep going mano a mano so that you don't get lost?"

Your eyes lit up when he spoke the bit of Spanish. You nodded and Jay continued to hold onto your little hand as he led you outside.

When you and Jay got outside, you were met with a big group of soldiers, some women, but mostly men. One was holding a soccer ball. Jay put his fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle to gather everyone's attention.

The one holding the ball turned to face them. "Can you guys add two more?"

"I think so. What's her name?" the soldier asked Jay.

"Her name's Y/N."

"Hi, Y/N. Do you want to be a captain? You get to pick who's on your team."

You looked up at Jay as if asking for his permission and he nodded. "Okay! But, I want Jay and Emilia."

"We can do that." Then, he turned back to the group. "Hey, whoever wants in on this game, line up! Me and Y/N are captains. And, she's already got dibs on Halstead and Diaz!"

A few grumbled, they knew Jay was one of the best at soccer having played in high school, and kept it up as a hobby after that. Everyone lined up and you started picking teams. Jay mouthed something to the other captain and he nodded, knowing that they were going to let your team win and not put up a fight when you went to score goals.

***

"Hey, Halstead!" Logans yelled to Jay once he had dropped you off to your room for lunch...and a bath seeing how dirty you had gotten playing soccer in the sand.

Jay turned and raised his eyebrows. He hadn't expected to see Logans right now. But, he didn't mind. The two had grown close just because they had to go on missions together.

"Few of us are going into Seville, wanna tag along?" Chad Logans finished.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Mind if Emilia comes too? You know, for translation purposes."

"Yeah, for translation purposes," Logans mocked.

Jay laughed. "Dude, you've got it all wrong. We went to high school together and one time we got dared to kiss each other, and it was like I was kissing my sister."

"Talkin' about me, Halstead?" Emilia asked, sneaking up behind him.

"Jesus Christ!" Jay jumped. "Don't scare me like that!"

"Aw, the man who plays with big guns is scared of a little translator. I'm honored."

"Shut up," Jay retorted, rolling his eyes. "So, assuming you didn't hear the first half of our conversation, you wanna head into Seville? Apparently, there's a bit more room on the truck."

"Sure, why not. I'm off for the rest of the day anyway."

"Good, because we're getting Y/N's necklace fixed and I need you to translate."

"And make sure you don't get ripped off."

"That too."

***

"What about this one?" Jay asked Emilia, holding up a silver chain.

"Jay, I know you're a man, but Jesus, I thought you were smarter than this!"

"What? What did I do wrong?"

"Take out the locket and look closely at it along with the chain. Go."

Jay pulled the locket out of one of the many pockets of his pants and held it next to the chain. "So? One's silver and one's gold."

"Exactly. You can't have a silver chain go with a gold locket. We need to find a gold chain. C'mon, put it back and we'll keep looking."

"Women," Jay scoffed.

"I can almost guarantee if you said that to Hailey that she'd have your balls in a blender so fast, Halstead."

"It's why I married her. Strong, independent, beautiful, and not to mention she's the one who calls me out on my shit almost daily."

"As she should."

"You should come around more often when we're both Stateside again. I think you and Hailey would get along really well. Also, you can see Will."

"Would you stop trying to set me up with your brother? He's not my type, we've been through this, many, many times actually."

"But, if I remember correctly, you do have a thing for doctors."

"It was my freshman year of college and he was a med student. Don't blame me for liking guys who are a few years older than me. They're more mature for one."

"Will's older than me," Jay pointed out.

"If he's anything like you then, he sure as hell ain't mature."

"That hurt, Emilia, that really did."

"Shut up. Now, let's keep looking, we only have a limited amount of time here in the city."

The two friends continued to walk through the cobblestone streets of Seville and look at all the small booths. Jay had bought some hard candy, despite Emilia telling him that he should save his money for the chain. To which he replied by saying that he had more than enough money and that Emilia was here to make sure that he didn't get ripped off after all.

"You're not gonna eat your candy, Halstead?" Emilia asked.

"They're not for me. They're for Y/N."

"I should've known when you got the bear-shaped ones and got a mix of flavors. I know you don't like grape-flavored stuff."

"Who does? It's gross! Tastes like medicine."

"I like it!"

"Of course you do, if my memory serves me correctly, the day we took the ACTs junior year, you came to school high on that nasty grape cough syrup."

"I was not going to reschedule that test and put myself through that panic again. So, yes, I came to school when I probably shouldn't have. But, I was not high!"

"Whatever you say."

"I still scored higher than you. There was no I would've been able to do that if I was high...or maybe there was. You weren't the brightest crayon in the box back in high school."

"Crayon in the box? What are you? Five?"

"Yes, now c'mon, let's keep looking for that chain before that candy ends up melting into a big ball of multi-colored goo."

***

"What about this one?" Jay asked, holding up a gold chain.

"You know, that one might work. Just let me talk to the seller for a second to see if we can slip the charm on it to see if it looks good and if it fits."

"Go for it. That's why I brought you, isn't it?"

"Shut up."

Emilia started to talk to the woman who ran the small jewelry booth and asked her if they could slip the locket on the chain to see if it fit. At least, that's what Jay assumed they were talking about...he barely spoke Spanish save for a few key words and phrases.

"What do you think?" Emilia asked as she held up the chain with the locket on it. "I think it looks good."

Jay looked at it. The chain was definitely cleaner than the locket. The locket had some dirt and grime stuck in its little crevices, but he figured once it got cleaned the colors would probably match up nicely. He figured that you'd just be excited to get your necklace back, no matter whether or not the gold from the chain and the gold from the locket matched perfectly.

"Me too," Jay agreed. "Just tell me how much it is."

She spoke to the shop owner one more time and then told Jay how much it was and he paid for the chain.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Jay asked as they continued their walk through the town.

"Jay, stop second-guessing yourself. She'll love it. Where's all this coming from? I know kid cases used to hit you hard, even when you worked for the police back in Chicago, but I've never seen something like this hit you this hard."

"You know I did two tours before this, right?"

"We've been best friends since high school, kind of hard to forget something as big as that."

"Right, sorry. Uh, on my last tour, there was this- there was this eight-year-old girl. She uh, she had a beautiful face, dark skin. My nine--the bullet from my gun--it went through a combatant and then through a doorway."

"Jay, you don't have to justify this. If it brings you back there, I don't--"

"No, it's okay. You deserve an explanation." He was quiet for a moment. "Anyway, the bullet went through the doorway, and then it uh, it ripped open her neck." He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to cry. "She didn't die right away though. I sat there, with her. I held her hand, told her that she wasn't alone. Sometimes, I still have nightmares about it."

"So, when you saw Y/N, you thought that you could save her because you didn't save that little girl?"

"Exactly. What makes it worse is that she's the same age as that girl was when I, when I--"

"Jay, you didn't shoot her. You had no intention of shooting her. It was an accident. I know I can't erase what happened, but it was not your fault."

They walked in silence after that, neither knowing what to say.

"What do you think about me bringing Y/N home with me when I leave?" Jay asked after they walked in silence for ten minutes, just looking at other booths.

"Like adopting her?"

"When you put it like that, yeah I guess."

"I think that you and Hailey share one brain."

"What do you mean?"

"Hailey asked me the same thing. And before you ask how I talked to her, remember that I work with computers, Jay. And, Mouse knows how to hack said computers."

"So, you called her?"

"Precisely."

"And what'd you two talk about?"

"The usual, how you were doing, how she was doing. She also said that she hasn't seen you this happy on base in a long time. She wants the same thing you do, Jay. Even though she's only seen it through one video call, she knows how good you are with Y/N and understands how much it will break her when you have to leave."

"So, she wants to adopt Y/N, too?"

"Yes, dummy! But, you guys need to have a conversation about that because I don't think I was supposed to tell you."

"You think it could happen? Us adopting her even though I'm in a different country right now?"

"I'm sure there have been other scenarios like this one before. But, you'll have to talk to Hailey about this, because she probably has some connections who can work with you Stateside on this because of you two being Chicago cops and all that. But hey, if it does somehow work out, you and Hailey seem like you'd make great parents."

***

Jay and Emilia barely made it back into Base before their names were being called.

"Halstead! Diaz! We need you to Med Station now!"

The minute Jay heard Med Station mentioned, he took off running.

"What's going on?" he asked the nurse who stood in front of your room.

"Did she go outside today?" she asked.

"Yes, we played soccer. Why is she screaming? What's wrong?"

"She was bitten by a tick and has what we call tick paralysis. Even though we got a translator in there to explain what was going on, she won't let us remove it. And, we need to give her some antibiotics as well, which requires an IV and she won't let us do that either. She just kept asking for you."

"You want me to get that tick off of her and plunge that needle into her? No way!"

"Jay," Emilia started, "it might be the only way to stop the paralysis and to get her to calm down. She trusts you. I know it's gonna suck because you're scared of needles, but you have to do it."

"Can't you do it? Please Em."

"She's asking for you."

Jay sighed. "All I have to do is get the tick off and then push the meds?"

"Yes, that's all."

"Okay."

He entered your room and to say that you were distraught would be an absolute understatement. You had tears running down your face at an alarmingly fast rate and your cries had reduced to panicked whimpers. You were staring at your legs, willing them to move, but they just wouldn't.

"Hey cariña," Jay said gently.

"J-Jay?" you asked, looking at him.

Jay crouched down next you and took your little hand in his. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Is it okay if I help you feel better?"

"How? I no want an aguja," you whined.

Jay looked to Emilia. "Needle," she translated.

"Y/N, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I don't like agujas either. But, they have special medicine in them that make you feel better. And, once I get the insect off of you and give the medicine, you'll feel all better."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And, I have a surprise for you, too."

"You do?"

"I do. But you have to let me give you the medicine and then you can get it, okay?"

"Okay."

"Can someone get me some gloves?" he asked.

A nurse came back with a pair of blue surgical gloves for him. "Would you like some help with this?" she asked him.

Yes, Jay had seen needles inserted into IV lines dozens of times, but he's never actually done it. "Please," he answered.

The nurse helped guide Jay's hand to where he was supposed to put the needle into, but you were intently watching his every move.

"Miras otro lado, cariña," Emilia said and you proceeded to look at the wall on the other side of you instead of looking at Jay putting the needle in.

"3...2..." Before he got to one, he pushed, causing you to let out a small whimper that absolutely broke his heart.

"She should be out soon," the nurse said. "And then we can remove the tick and she'll be back to normal in no time. Good work, Halstead."

"Thank you ma'am."

Jay was about to leave, when he remembered something. "Where was the tick?"

"It was on her foot."

"Because she didn't have shoes on when we were playing soccer earlier," Jay stated as he put the pieces together, once a detective, always a detective.

"You can't blame yourself. You didn't know there'd be a tick."

"Jay," Mouse said as he entered the room. "Hailey's on the phone for you."

He looked at Emilia. "Promise to come get me when she wakes up?"

"I promise."

***

"Hey, Hails."

"Hey, Jay. What's wrong?" she asked, immediately concerned at how down Jay looked.

"It's just that, me and Y/N went outside and played soccer today, and then I got back from going to Seville with Emilia to get stuff to fix her necklace, and then she got bit by a tick. She had tick paralysis. She couldn't move her legs, Hailey. She was so scared. I had to push the needle into her and I felt so bad because I know it hurt her."

"Oh, honey. It's okay. She's gonna be okay and she'll love you for fixing her necklace that she won't even remember how much that needle hurt."

"Thanks, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I was the one who hurt her."

"No, you made her feel better. Without that medication, she probably would've stayed paralyzed. Don't beat yourself up here Jay, you're trying your best."

"But what if I'm not?"

"Jay, listen to me. That little girl loves you. You're the happiest I've ever seen you when you're with her and when you're talking about her."

"Emilia told me you'd say that."

"Because it's true. Wait, what else did she tell you?"

"Hey, don't be mad at her, but I like the idea of adopting Y/N, too."

"Really? You don't think it's too sudden or that it's the wrong choice?"

"Not at all. I think it's the right choice, actually. They were gonna send her to another orphanage in a month anyway, so if we can get everything set up somehow and get the paperwork in order, I think it would work," Jay answered.

"I'm pretty sure Voight has some contacts at DCFS who know how these types of international adoptions work. I'll reach out."

"Awesome. Think you could convince Ruz to help you paint the guest room purple?"

"For Y/N's bedroom? You're getting way too ahead of yourself, soldier. Let's just get the paperwork sorted first."

Jay talked to Hailey for a few more minutes and then started to walk back to his barracks to change and have a shower. After being out in the heat of Seville in the middle of the day, it was very much needed. But, he stopped when he saw Captain Smith approaching him.

"Halstead."

"Captain," Jay said and then stood at attention.

"At ease. I heard you did a good thing to help Y/N with that tick paralysis scare she had a bit ago. You really care about her, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"About that change in position you asked me about earlier, after seeing how good you were with her, I think I can take you up on that. That is if you're still okay with it."

"I am. Where am I needed, sir?"

"Report to the kitchens at 0500."

"Thank you, sir."

***

Jay was almost asleep in the very uncomfortable chair in your hospital room when he heard your soft whimpers. You hadn't woken up yet after being given the antibiotics and the sedative, but it was nighttime and Jay didn't want you to wake up and he not be there, since it was dark. He didn't want to you wake up and be scared all alone.

"Y/N, cariña, what's wrong?" He turned pulled his flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on to be met with your tear-stained face.

"I-I scared."

Jay moved his chair to be closer to you. "Why are you scared, cariña? Maybe talking about it will help?"

"I scared of not feeling my legs. What if happens again?"

"Oh, cariña. The reason that happened is that an insect got on your leg. But, the doctors took it away so it can't bite you and hurt you again."

"You sure?"

"I am very sure. Now, I don't know if you remember, but I told you I had something for you before I gave you that medicine earlier. Do you remember that?"

"A little bit."

Jay reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the necklace. He had locked the candy in his trunk back in his barracks so that his body heat wouldn't melt it and so that no one would steal it.

"I told you I'd fix it," he said as he held up the necklace, the locket spinning in small circles.

"You did it! You did it! Thank you, Jay!"

"You're welcome. want me to put it on you?"

"Por favor."

Jay unclasped the necklace and carefully put it on you and then secured the clasp. The minute it was on, you opened the locket and looked at the two pictures in there, you looked at your mom and dad, at your mami and papi.

"Is that your mommy and daddy?" Jay asked carefully.

"Yes, my mami and papi," you answered, still looking down at their pictures. "I miss them."

"I miss my mommy and daddy, too," Jay answered.

"Your mami and papi in America? They see you when you come back?"

"No. Actually, uh..." God, he really hoped you knew the word dead in English because he didn't feel like trying to explain it to you. "They died. I don't have a mommy and daddy either."

"You do not?"

"I do not. But, I know they still love me. And I know yours still love you."

"Because they are always in my corazón." You pointed to your heart, your actual heart, not the locket.

"Yes, they will always be in your heart, that's right."

"When I couldn't sleep, my mami or my papi would lay next to me and tell me a story. Will you do that, Jay?"

"You want me to lay next to you?"

"Yes, please," you said. Jay started to get on your bed, but you stopped him. "No!" He abruptly froze. "You have to take your shoes off. Mami always said no shoes on the bed."

"You know what? You're right! How could I forget that? My mommy always told me the same thing."

Jay removed his heavy boots and then got into bed next to you. You immediately laid your head against his chest, just like you had done when your mami or papi was in your bed about to tell you a bedtime story, which shocked Jay.

"Okay, cariña, what kind of story do you want?"

"How you meet Hailey?"

"How'd I meet Hailey?" You nodded excitedly. "Well, I was policia in Chicago and so was she, but we didn't work together."

"Why not?"

"We were in different units."

"Like how you a sold--" you furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to remember the word in English, "--soldier and how Emilia es intérprete, like how she speaks English and Spanish?"

Jay assumed that intérprete meant translator, so he nodded. "That's exactly right! You're so smart! Me and Hailey were in different units, so we didn't work together. But, one day, my unit got called to a robbery. Do you know what a robbery is?"

"Where they take something that isn't theirs and they do not pay for it."

"That's right. Hailey got called to that and tried to take it away from me, but we had to work together."

"You no like her at first?"

Jay chuckled because no, he did not like her at first. But, he had to admit, her commanding the attention of everyone in that bank, well that was hot, it was really hot. "No, I didn't. But, then I saw how good of a person she was and we got really close."

"Like you and Emilia?"

"Kind of. But, we met in school. And, we don't kiss."

"Just amigos."

"Just amigos," Jay confirmed.

"Then what happened? With you and Hailey?"

"It took me a while to actually kiss her," he admitted.

"How long?"

"Almost four years."

"That's a long time! Why it take you so long?"

"Because I was scared."

"But you big and strong. You no get scared. Only kids like me get scared."

"That's not true. Adults get scared, too." You cocked your head to the side. "Oh yeah, adults get scared, too."

"When are you scared?"

"I was scared earlier when I had to put that needle in your arm to make you feel better."

"But why? You didn't have it go in your skin. It didn't hurt you."

"I was scared I was going to hurt you. I didn't want you to not like me because I had to poke you with a needle because I don't like them either."

"So you scared of n-needles, too?"

"Oh yeah. When I was little and had to go to the doctor's, my mom would always have to give me ice cream to make me get needles in my skin."

"Like how you promised me the necklace?"

"Exactly."

"You tell me another story?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"How you meet Emilia?"

"Oh, now this, this is a good story. When I was a little older than you, probably twelve, I was at the park with my big brother, Will, and we were playing soccer. Emilia came up and she wanted to play, too. I told her that she couldn't because she was a girl. I know, mean right? Then, Will told me that she could play and that I was being mean and she beat me at soccer. She played so much better than me..."

He looked down to see if you were paying attention or if you were confused because he hadn't stopped to check for your comprehension, but he was met with the cutest sight in the world that made his heart swell out of his chest. You, were asleep on his chest, one hand gripping your locket and the other holding his army green t-shirt in your little fist.

***

"Hey lunch lady, how's it going in there?" Emilia asked as she held your hand and you two made your way into the cafeteria a few days later.

"Technically, it's breakfast and I'm a man, so it's breakfast man to you."

"Fine. How's it going in there, breakfast man?"

"It's fine. But good god, if I thought the barracks required a lot of cleaning, this place requires a fu--"

"Jay! Little ears!"

"--A lot. This place requires a lot more cleaning than the barracks."

"So, what's on the menu today?" Mouse asked.

"Same old, same old." Jay shrugged. "Oatmeal, eggs, and sausage."

"And coffee."

"That too, obviously."

"I want that bowl of oatmeal," Mouse stated as he tried to reach for it, but Jay pulled it back towards him.

"Nuh-uh. Get your grubby hands away from this. This is for Y/N."

He handed the bowl to Emilia who passed it to you. "It's got bananas in it!" you exclaimed excitedly. "But, what's this stuff?"

"Mantequilla de cacahuete," Emilia aswered you in your first language. "How did you get ahold of extra peanut butter, Halstead?"

"A chef never reveals his secrets. Now get outta here. You're holding up my line."

"Don't forget about the call with Hailey today," Emilia reminded him.

"I can't ever forget about those. But for this, I'm counting down the minutes."

***

"Hey Hails," Jay greeted as he answered his video call with his wife. "Is everything alright? You missed the call last time."

"I know, I'm really sorry. I was just trying to get all this paperwork in order and I had to find all your information and had to get references and-- I'm sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Hails, it's fine. I'd listen to you ramble all day when I'm out here. I just love to hear your voice."

"You're so whipped, Halstead."

"As are you, Mrs. Halstead."

"I love it when you call me that."

"Mrs. Halstead, do you have any update about the Y/N situation? I didn't mention anything to her yet because I didn't want to get her hopes up."

"Actually, that's the main reason I'm calling you...and because our calls are scheduled. But, everything's in order. I just finished the home inspection literally five minutes ago."

"So that's why the house is so clean."

"Shut up. Anyway, everything's in order. She just needs to get a few documents in order, which Emilia is helping me with since we need Y/N's picture. She also got me in touch with your captain and he reached out to someone he knows who works in some office or something for foreign-born orphans near where you guys are to get a passport for Y/N. They'll just need to interview you a few days after you get home, but they said unless you're not the person you say you are, that we should be able to keep Y/N."

"You're serious?"

"100%."

"Shit, Hails, this is- this is amazing. I love you, you know that? We're gonna have a daughter."

"It's amazing isn't it?"

Jay's eyes began to tear up. "Yeah, it is. And to think, if I would've just glanced over that teddy bear like it was nothing, then she wouldn't be coming with home me, home to us. I know I haven't even known her for three weeks yet, but I just want to do everything in my power to keep her safe, to make her feel loved."

"That's what a dad's supposed to do."

That's what a dad's supposed to do.

"I'm gonna be a dad," Jay realized. "And you're gonna be a mom. What if I'm no good at this, Hailey? What if I mess up like my dad did? What if--"

"Jay, listen to me. You are going to be a great father to that little girl. You know how I know that? Because you're not even her dad yet and that girl loves you. She loves you, Jay. She loves you so much."

"And I know she's going to love too, Hailey Halstead." The phone binged, telling him that he had only one more minute to talk to his wife. "You're going to be a great mom, Hails. Now, I have to go tell Y/N the good news. I have to go tell our kid the good news."

***

Emilia was sitting in front of you on your bed and your tongue was slightly hanging out of your mouth in concentration as you focused on braiding her hair. "Emilia teaching you how to braid, cariña?" Jay asked.

"Yeah! I know a little before, but she helping me."

"That's good. Maybe you can braid Hailey's hair at home."

If you weren't holding Emilia's hair, she would've whipped around to face Jay. She knew what that sentence meant.

"Are you almost done, Y/N? I think Jay needs to tell you something," Emilia said.

"Are you leaving?" you asked, turning towards him and letting go of Emilia's hair altogether. Whenever people said that they had to tell you something, it was almost always bad news. "I do not want you to leave! Please stay!"

You jumped off the bed and grabbed onto Jay.

He crouched down to your height. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm not leaving you, I promise."

"Jay, let me take it from here, okay? It might be better if I explain it to her in her first language."

"No, I should do it. You're not gonna be with me all the time back in Chicago. I'm gonna need to stop relying on you at some point."

"Okay, but I'll stay here in case she gets confused."

"Y/N, do you know what adoption is?"

"¿Cómo adopción?" you asked. The word sounded similar in both languages, so you hoped you and Jay were talking about the same thing.

Jay looked to Emilia and she nodded. "Adopción, sí," Jay confirmed. "Me and Hailey talked and we want to adopt you. Do you want that? To come home with me when I leave and live with me and Hailey?"

"You be my mami and papi?"

Jay knew that he was going to have to answer this question eventually, but he didn't want you to feel like he and Hailey were replacing your real mom and dad. "Um, yeah, we would. But, you don't have to call us that," he added quickly. "You can call us Jay and Hailey if you want. We don't want to take the place of your parents because they're very special to you."

"And they always be in my heart?"

"That's right, they'll always be in your heart."

"But, you and Hailey be my parents in real life and not just in my heart and I go to Chicago with you and see the snow?"

"That's right. If you want--"

You hugged him, which took him off guard, but he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

"Thank you, te quiero."

Emilia put a hand to her mouth and held back tears after you said that.

"What? What did she say?" Jay asked anxiously.

"Jay, she said she loves you."

And, before Jay started to cry, he barely choked out, "Me, too. Te quiero, cariña."

***

The flight from Spain to Chicago went surprisingly well for you and Jay. The flight was late at night because, before finding you, he had hoped he'd be able to sleep on the flight home. But, you had never been on a plane before, so during the entire plane ride, Jay stayed awake just in case you got scared or your ears popped and started to hurt.

Jay had saved the hard candies that were shaped like little bears for the plane ride and you both ate them. He told you that they were all for you, but you insisted on sharing them. But, whenever he'd get a grape-flavored one, he'd hand it to you since he hated that flavor. You didn't like the lime ones very much, so you gave him those ones. But, both of you had the same favorite flavor: strawberry.

During the flight, you ate candy and Jay showed you all the places in Chicago that he would take you to from the flight magazines. He showed you Navy Pier, the Bean, the Chicago theater, Gino's East, Miracle Mile, and all the other things in those touristy magazines. You had never gone on a Ferris wheel before, but from the picture in the magazine about the one on Navy Pier and from Jay's description, it sounded super fun!

The fasten seatbelt sign came on as you were starting to descend into Midway airport. Despite all the bad memories he had here with Keyes kidnapping him all those years ago before he reenlisted, and before he even met Hailey, he knew that this new happy memory, of bringing you home, would outweigh that horrible memory.

He looked over to make sure that you had your seatbelt on and snapped a picture of your sleeping form. You were using Osito as a pillow and had a blanket messily draped over you, and one hand lazily rest on Jay.

Luckily for Jay, you didn't wake up when he maneuvered himself to be able to put his seatbelt on. But, the minute you hit the runaway, your eyes shot open.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Jay reassured you. "We're just getting on the ground again."

You grabbed the hem of his shirt and squeezed a little bit until the bumpiness died down and you came to a slow roll at the end of the runway.

"We here? In Chicago?" you asked.

"We are. Welcome home, cariña."

A/N: This has sat in my drafts for a longggg time. But, I got inspired today and ended up writing 5k words to finish it up. I'm thinking of writing a part 2 to this when the reader is in her teen years. What do you think? Side note, daddy! Jay and big brother! Jay are my two favorite Jays if you couldn't already tell! Please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! Also, if you want to be added to my taglist, just comment and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox

[nanamismoonchild]

Made by Magic, Delivered By Broom

Pairing: seokjin x reader x namjoon

Fandom: bts

Movie: kiki's delivery service

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff, weird spells that i totally don’t base off harry potter, jealousy, separate warnings will be posted to each chapter

WC: 1.1k

Summary:  She was told to find her passion through whatever means. Well, she did-in love and in delivering herbs.  However, when the two men she's enticed start to grow jealous, strange things start to happen around her.

chapter 1: Seoul is waiting

The cards were all against you. Literally.  The tarot cards laid out in front of you were very against your decision to move across the world and start a new business. 

In fact, everyone seemed to be against you-your mother, father, aunts, uncles, cousins, everyone. But there was no way you were changing your mind. You had been dreaming about moving to Seoul, South Korea since you could interpret your dreams.  The little manifestations of your unconscious mind told you that you needed to leave your cozy little home with your family.  

Your sister was possibly the only person who readily agreed to put you on a broomstick with your possessions. Mostly because then she would have all of the attention. 

Three reversed cards -- Ace of Cups, Seven of Cups, Two of Pentacles -- weren’t going to delay your trip either. Your magical bag that seemed to hold everything you held dear was packed and tied to the broomstick that your family had gifted to you once you had been able to walk.  It was your main means of traveling and was more reliable than the gas cars that regular humans used. If anything could get you to Seoul quickly, it was Broom. 

You were preparing for take-off in your front yard when your mother tried one last time to trap you in your room. 

“Honey, don’t you think Seoul is dangerous for a young witch such as yourself. What if someone realizes what you are? Witches burned in Salem! Who knows what they did to witches in Korea?” “Mom, please stop worrying. ‘Witches don’t burn, they thrive.’ Isn’t that what you always told me? Don’t switch up now that I’m leaving. I’m not a child. I will be careful. You can’t keep me in my room until I turn fifty.”

She smiled sadly, knowing she couldn’t possibly win against your determination. She was the one who raised you. “I could try. But I won’t. I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll miss me physically. But I know as soon as I tell you I’ve breathed in the air of South Korea, you’ll be calling me every single second.”

“You know me so well. Give me one last hug?” “Last hug? You know, I’ll be visiting from time to time, right?” You giggled as you hugged the woman who had given you life. 

“Of course. And I’ll be visiting you. You won’t ever know when I’ll pop up.” 

Your mother crushed you into her bosom before letting you go.  It was a symbolic hug. She needed to let you go so you could grow. She knew what Seoul had in store for you. Love, happiness, sadness. She would never tell you she had peeked into your future during a ritual a year ago. It wasn’t entirely forbidden and it was only done for emergencies. Losing you was an emergency at the time, and she just needed to know. What if there was something she should warn you about? What ifs were dangerous in the witch community. There should be no hesitation to cast a spell or to go on a spiritual journey to discover who you are. 

Your mother was wrong, but it did give her peace of mind to see you so happy with the friends you’d make. However, there was something that did catch her eye. Two men were cuddling with you in one scene she had seen.  Jealousy was deeply written into both of their eyes. She had thought she saw some form of malice in one of them then the ritual ended.

She had forced herself to write it off as her worry was getting the best of her. Just a trick of the light she had told herself. 

And now she was telling herself to see you off as you left your childhood home. She called the rest of your family who had gathered out. 

“We’ll miss you, __! Get me an autograph from an idol. It doesn’t matter who!” Your sister said. She was a fan of korean music. 

You lifted your left leg over Broom and perched into your seat. Wiggling a little, you made yourself comfortable for the ride to Seoul. 

“I checked your broom. It has enough magic to get you there, but you’d have to refill it as soon as you see land. Otherwise, you’re going to crash land somewhere,” your father told you as he came over to kiss your head. 

Your aunts and uncles said encouraging words even though their eyes were holding back the tears they wanted to release. The first born daughter was finally leaving home. 

One of your aunts presented a box that was wrapped to you. 

“A witch should always have a companion. Preferably a black cat,” she winked. 

The box started to whine in soft meows as she placed it into the magical bag that was tied to the broom behind you.  

“Good luck. Remember that you are powerful. Passion for magic runs through your veins. Use it to find your passion in your new home.”

“I will, auntie. Also, I don’t suppose this cat can talk, can it?”

“You’ll find out soon enough my love,” your mother answered. “You need to go. You’re losing darkness and I don’t want you flying during the day.”

“Of course.”

You readied yourself, facing towards the horizon that would lead you to a new life. Before you say the spell that would commence take-off, you turn towards your family once again. 

“I love you. And I will visit as soon as I situate myself.”

Your mother starts to cry and leans into your father who wraps his arms around his wife. Your sister smiles and waves, trying to keep herself from bursting into tears. You were her only sibling and, without you constantly nagging at her, she would be quite lonely. The attention wouldn’t matter if no one was there to compete with. 

“Bye!” Your aunts and uncles call out unanimously. 

You start running, muttering the words for take-off under your breath. 

O’ wind I call upon thee

lift me up and let me fly through the sky, 

let me be free,

keep me safe 

So it shall be 

Broom slowly lifted up, your feet no longer touching the ground. When you could see the tops of the trees, you glanced down at your family who were still watching your departure. You couldn’t see their eyes anymore but you knew that they were all crying. Your cheeks were wet themselves. Wiping away the tears so you’d be able to see, you wave down at your family, wishing you had a few more minutes to say goodbye. 

But minutes would turn into hours. Hours would turn into days. Days would turn into months.  

You need to leave at that moment. Seoul was waiting for you. 

With one last wave and a quick check to make sure your bag was still secure, you grasped onto the broom handles tightly, and took off.  

[theoriginalladya]

25 for F!Shenko.

from this list

On AO3 here

Thank you for this!  The fShenko is implied here ... I started off writing it with my canon Serafina Shepard in mind, but it quickly morphed into a generic Colonist FemShep.  Definitely FShekno though. And wow .. this one snuck up on me.  Because hey, what mission doesn’t immediately go FUBAR when Shepard lands, right?  lol  Under cut because it got long.

~~~

Standing at her private terminal in the CIC, Shepard stares at the latest message that flits across the screen.  It’s from Alliance Command, or Hackett; she’s too distracted by the contents of the message to care, and in the end it doesn’t really matter.  It’s a mission and she is nothing if not a dutiful soldier.  It’s for the war effort.  Alliance personnel on the ground will assist.  The climb up the steps to the Galaxy Map is like slogging through molasses.  When she gets there, she inputs the destination then turns away.

“Commander?”

Halfway to the lift, Shepard stops, waits. Traynor has learned to question when necessary.  

“Are you certain …?”

“Yes, Specialist,” she replies, her voice brooking no argument.  The lift arrives; she boards.  The conversation ends with the closing door.  Traynor’s, “Yes, ma’am,” gets cut off.  

Shepard stares at the console.  She needs a place to think.  Someplace quiet.  This mission … this is going to be difficult and she needs to get into the proper headspace for it.  

~

The Normandy arrives in system fifteen hours later. Shepard is ready and waiting on the shuttle when Kaidan, Liara, James, Tali and Garrus arrive.  “Let’s go, Cortez,” she tells the pilot, securing the hatch behind them.

Unlike usual ground missions, she doesn’t give them a brief on the descent.  In fact, this journey she says absolutely nothing.  She stands behind Cortez, staring out the virtual windows as he takes them down, but her mind races.  The colony is technically in Reaper controlled space, but as they slip below atmo, her gaze searches the skies, the landscape, the familiar-yet-not plan of the colony.  There is no indication of any reaper presence here.  Yet.  

Turning away as Cortez lands, she looks over at her companions.  Her voice is tight, crisp and brooks no argument or discussion.  “Let’s go.  Intel says no reaper presence, but we all know how that goes.  We have five Alliance depots to check out.”  She nods at Garrus and Tali.  “Grab the first two transports you find and we’ll split into teams. Cortez,” she calls back over her shoulder, “stay here.  If by some chance things turn hot, get out and let me know.”

“Understood, commander.”

She pounds the hatch’s release and leads the way out of the vehicle.  The others follow.

Almost from the moment her feet hit the ground, she knows something isn’t right.  Her hand reaches for the comfort of her Hurricane, pulling it free while she scans the vicinity. “Base is to the east,” she tells the rest as she starts walking forward, toward the colony center.  “We’ll head there first, find the locations of the depots.”

Kaidan moves up next to her.  “Where are all the colonists?” he asks, putting to voice the one question everyone has.

Shepard checks that her weapon is loaded and ready to fire.  “I don’t know.”

Transport is limited to one truck that Garrus gets running for them with Tali’s assistance, and with that adjustment the plan moves forward.  Shepard drives, much to the dismay of the rest, and they head east.  The grumbling stops once they’re underway.  She knows the way; they are on alert.  

Thirty minutes later, Shepard slows at the entrance. She idles the vehicle, but there are no guards in sight to let them through. Shepard leans out the window and calls up, “Kaidan?  Vega? Anybody?”

“Not that I can see, Lola,” Vega calls back. Kaidan shakes his head.

Damn.  Slowly, she backs up a few hundred feet.  “Everyone hold on.”  The words are barely out of her mouth before she guns the engines and speeds forward. The gate breaks with the vehicle’s impact and by the time she slows, they are well on the base proper.  

Like the colony proper, the base appears empty. There is no one around when there should be a hive of activity.  Even with the current state of the war, there should be something. Shepard pulls to a stop near the central admin building.  She leads the way inside, her hand at her hip again ready to pull the Hurricane in a heartbeat.  

The building is empty.  From the lobby to the interior halls and offices, there is no sign that anyone is present.  Shepard sends Liara to check the terminal at the main desk; Kaidan, Garrus, and even Tali pick other terminals to check.  Shepard paces.  Something isn’t right …

“Shepard, I’ve found something.”

Her breath catches in her chest as she hurries over to Liara.  Reading through the information presented, she tries to decipher what exactly it is. It makes no sense.  “What …?”

Liara shakes her head and Kaidan steps in to join them.  He scans through the gibberish on the screen before looking over at Shepard.  “This … isn’t right.”

“No kidding?” It comes out far too sharp to be ‘usual,’ but all of them sense there is something more at play here for her now.  

Shepard stalks back around the desk and heads for the main door.  “Load up!” she orders.  “We’ll go find them ourselves.”  So much for assistance.

She slides behind the wheel again.  This time, Kaidan takes the passenger seat and everyone else climbs into the back.  They start off in silence.

Five miles out, Kaidan finally speaks.  “You going to tell me what’s going on?”  He keeps his voice low though there isn’t really a chance anyone will hear.  He knows she’s a private person.  He also knows their presence is more than just a mission to her.  

Her jaw tightens, teeth grinding almost painfully. “Something isn’t right,” she insists, “but I can’t explain it.  Something is just … off.”

He nods.  “Yeah, we all sense it too,” he assures her.  “What did Hackett tell you to expect?”

She shrugs.  “Alliance personnel should have been there.  Someone was to give us the access points.  They know we are coming …”

They know …

The vehicle tops a rise.  Below them, the road winds down the side of the hills through the patchwork fields.  In the distance is a small clearing, fenced and closed off.  The road leads straight to it.  Like a moth to a flame …

Shepard slams on the brakes halfway down the hill. She hears shouts, complaints from the back, and even Kaidan’s hand slams on the dash.  “What is it?” he asks, looking over at her in concern.

“Fuck!  How could I have been so stupid!”

“What?”

She scans the landscape, hoping she’s wrong, but past history is too much to ignore.  “It’s a trap,” she replies as she shifts the gears and starts backing the truck to a point where she can turn around.

“How do you know?”

“No one is here – either they’ve been taken, or they’re lying in wait for us to hit those depots.”  Frustration eats at her as she maneuvers the vehicle.  

Kaidan frowns.  “That’s a bit of a jump, isn’t it?  Weren’t you the one to tell me when they rebuilt the colony after the attack in 2170 they added panic rooms to every building?  Maybe they’re safe and secure down there?”

She slams her fingers to her comms connection. “Cortez, fire up.  Mission is scrubbed and I want off this planet ASAP.”

“Understood, commander.”

“Shepard, we can’t just leave!” Kaidan argues.  “Don’t you want to help?  We need those supplies and … and this is your home!”

She guns the engines, panic driving her now. Something is wrong … something is wrong … something is very, very, VERY wrong …  As she skirts the outer edges of the colony proper, the first hint of movement flicks out of Kaidan’s side of the vehicle.  

“Shepard!” Vega shouts.  “Husks!”

“FUCK!”  

The LZ is still a mile or two ahead of them.  “Open fire!” she shouts out the window.  Ahead of her, she notices more filtering out from the fields on the sides of the road.  She grabs her Hurricane and fires out her window as Kaidan starts to do the same on his side.  

The LZ comes into sight mere moments later. Shepard slides the truck to a stop some fifty yards from the shuttle.  Thankfully, there don’t appear to be any reapers attacking their exit route. “Cortez!”

The hatch lifts and everyone scrambles inside. Garrus and James provide covering fire until Shepard boards.  “Go! Go! Go!” she shouts to Cortez.  She triggers the hatch and it slams shut as she sinks to the floor; the Hurricane clatters next to her.  She buries her face in her hands for a long minute, lowering them when the weight of a hand slides around her shoulders.  Looking up, she meets Kaidan’s concerned gaze.  “This isn’t my home,” she rasps.  “This will never be my home …”

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 49 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 49 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Chapter 17: Storm

As the hunted Grandalor raced north under all of the sail that she could muster, the winds began to veer over, coming from the West.  Torn clouds of Strong Skin gray rising from the southern horizon blotted out the sky.  The thickening overcast was racing wildly across the sky from Southwest to East Northeast.

The Grandalor was running a reach across the wind, taking the best advantage of the wild weather that raced ahead of the advancing Coriolis Storm.  

The sprinting ship began to crash from wave to wave as the storm surge caught up with her from abeam.  The big ship was heeled so far over by the force of the wind that her lee rail was often plunged under the waves.  With Darkistry at the helm, they turned and began to run before the storm.  Water rushed across the deck every time that the bow plunged down and it flowed in torrents out the scuppers as the ship rose up the next wave.  The wind was not yet carrying the slashing rain that was soon to come.

Barad, braced into place by ropes, near the steering tackle and the tocsin, ordered the storm safety lines rigged about the deck.  The tocsin beat the order and men and women leaped to obey.  As quickly as the safety lines were secure, Barad ordered all the main sails shortened and the topsails furled.  

The combined watch crews worked together to claw the rock tight canvas up to the yard arms for furling in the now screaming wind.  Barad, looking up at crewmen he could hardly see against the roiling clouds, began to fear that he had waited too long.

High overhead, the straining crewmen and women knew that they were winning the battle with the recalcitrant, wind filled canvas and admired his nerve.  The ship began to right as the sail area diminished and she was soon plunging ahead under shortened jibs and a tightly reefed mizzen gaff alone in the gloom that presaged the storm darkness to yet to come.

A flock of wild paddle ducks, fleeing the wreck of their seaweed mat and flying desperately before the storm, spied the ship and swarmed into the safety of the rigging.  They jabbed with blunt beaks at the fingers and feet of any crewman foolish enough to want to use a duck’s bit of rigging for its intended purpose.  

Shortly, a pair of Wide Wing Sea Hawks found the same safety and landed among the ducks, holding on tightly with the claws on their feet and at the joints of their wings.  They ignored the easy prey, safety from the deadly weather being their only concern.

Further south, the Naral fleet’s careful search pattern was thrown into total disarray.  The unseasonable storm caught everyone by surprise and ships were scattered to the winds as they battled for survival.

The Dark Dragon plunged north and west, running before the storm on one special lobster claw sail, smaller than her usual sails, especially made for storms.  All of the rest of her canvas was tightly furled to its booms and secured safely on deck.  The storm sail was braced and managed by wrist thick cables, run to windlasses.  To reinforce it, a strong net had been sewn directly into the sail when it was made. They were deep into the storm’s self created darkness but Sula knew with utter certainty that the Soaring Bird was holding a course just to the south and east of them, no more than a thousand yards away.  

She felt Huld in the back of her mind at times like this.  She did not pretend to understand how the ‘Dragon Bonding’ of the Barant fleet worked but it did.  At times of stress or danger, she sensed his presence, however far away he might be.

He’d been there since they’d met, more than fifteen Gatherings ago, during the Second Boren Current War.  ‘Dragon Bonding’ was in no way love.  It was something that had gone ‘sideways’ between them during the rescue of first his ship and then her own from a pair of Boren fleet raiders.  They had been partnered ever since.  Not precisely conversation but a quiet consensus on necessary action came of the contact.  It had made them a deadly force during the wars. Over the Gatherings that followed, she had learned that it was a lifelong bond.

Now, she could feel the usually serene Huld wildly alive and delighted by the challenge of the storm.  Crazy, Sula thought, he actually enjoys this kind of weather!  I ought to be used to it by now.  This isn’t the first storm that we’ve ridden out together. The Dark Dragon’s storm rig was copied from the one Huld used.

The port bow of the giant catamaran ran into a high, black-gray wave and water surged over the fore-deck, rolling along the base of the pilot house, forty feet back from the bow.  The Dark Dragon shuddered and rose over the wave, heaving it aside with casual power.  She was built to withstand storms like this and, though it was a wild, rocking, jolting ride, the Dark Dragon was taking the weather in her stride.

The Naral fleet, caught by the storm, was widely scattered.  All of the ships had been built to survive the worst known weather but ill luck, a bit of slipshod work or a failure of maintenance could put any ship at risk.  And it was happening.

Under the force of the potent Coriolis storm, lines and cables did part, sails ripped and blew to tatters.  The huge cyclone was over a thousand miles across with winds of a hundred to a hundred and fifty miles per hour.  Ships that took the seas wrongly battled to say afloat.  If they breached or just hit a freak wave, a ship could be seriously flooded.  Bailing crews furiously pumped the seawater out of the below decks of virtually every ship.

All ship captains knew the basic strategy for battling such a storm. ‘All you had to do’ was ride with the storm, holding as close to the outer edge as possible, for between a thousand and fifteen hundred miles.  After that you broke free into the storm’s wake and theoretically you were safe.  

Unfortunately, there were a few hitches in that simple seeming program.  In the gloom of the storm there were no markers to tell you when you had gone the required distance.

Assuming that you made your breakout in the right place, and not where the storm would just run over you again, The seas would be violently rough for a day or two from the disturbance of the storm’s passing. This was also prime hunting time.  The seas teemed with life as fish feasted on the bounty of stirred up plankton, loose seaweeds and dead or injured fish and birds.  

All of this activity drew the big predators, the Strong Skins, Wing Rays, Hags, Moon Flats and Lesser Sea Dragons.  Some of these monsters had been known to attack ships and would certainly take divers or anyone else unlucky enough to be in the water.  Some of the bigger creatures considered small boats to be snack trays.  

The hunting was not entirely one sided.  The ships that were still functioning well in the aftermath of the storm would be seeking the wealth of predator fish hides, fangs, bones and meat.  This was the best possible time to search for the elusive and valuable Lesser Dragon and Hag.  Nobody in their right mind actually looked for Wing Rays or Moon Flats unless they were little ones, say, forty tons or less.

Aboard the Grandalor, the crew below-decks were preparing warm blankets for the deck crews as they came off watch.  The storm watches were only two hours long and the crews needed to handle the sails and help the helmsman were small.  In the Galley, the cooks had secured pots over the oil-fire boxes and fastened their lids to keep the contents from sloshing out.  They were making hot drinks and hearty soups to greet the men and women coming off watch.

Everyone was anxious about the risk of running in the storm, fearing that Captain Barad would bring their breakout in the midst of their enemies.  It gradually dawned on the crew that Captain Barad was not aiming the Grandalor for a breakout at all.  They could feel how the overtaking seas lifted the stern and passed under the ship.  The angle was wrong.  They were heading deeper into the storm, not breaking out.

Barad had been maintaining watch on deck since the storm began.  Tanlin suited up in foul weather gear and took two mugs, with the covers usually used to teach young infants how to drink, and filled them with hot red-weed broth.  She made her way aft, through dark passages to the rearmost companionway and climbed to the deck access.  The alert crewmen there opened the hatch to let her up on deck and sealed it quickly behind her.

She attached her safety line to the storm line and went on aft, battling to keep her feet in the wind and rain, with the deck heaving underfoot and wave water rushing across it in (mostly) shallow torrents.

She reached Barad and gave him a hot broth.  His big hands wrapped around the warm mug in appreciation.  Tanlin indicated by gesture, for the wind and rain allowed few words, that they were going deeper into the storm.  She was not surprised to see him reply the same way and indicate that all was correct.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[the-original-b]

Archangel--Chapter 8: Reckoning (or Blut und Verrat)

Format: Prose / Fiction, multi-entry

Part in Series: 9 of 9 (Previous Chapter | First Chapter)

Word Count: c. 6,500

Summary: Old secrets surface, Krueger gets an offer, and Khai makes the best of her current situation.

Warning(s): blood, violence

“Pull over here,” Khai suggested from the passenger seat. “The driveway entrance is half a mile up the road, but the property is just over this wall.”

Krueger did as instructed, pulling his sedan to the side of the road and parking it. He shut the headlights off and reached behind the passenger seat to retrieve the AR-15 he took from the Praetorians at Khai’s home half an hour ago. From the driver’s seat he re-checked the weapon, releasing the magazine and sliding it back into place, then pulling the charging handle back just enough to see the brass in the chamber. “I don’t suppose you know how many Praetorians are here?”

“No,” she admitted. “There could be five or fifty.”

Krueger took a breath to calm himself as he formed his plan. He didn’t have the advantage of having Khai watch over him with the recon drone this time, and he had to assume his enemies had technological advantages over him in addition to the numerical one, but Krueger had one distinct tactical advantage which he intended to exploit.

He fished in his coat pocket for the car key and gingerly placed it in Khai’s left hand, careful not to provoke her recovering elbow. “Wait in the car,” he said. “If you don’t hear from me in fifteen minutes, you get as far away from here as you can.”

“What—?”

Before she could protest, or even respond, Krueger stepped out of the car and effortlessly scaled the wrought-iron topped property wall, disappearing from her sight and into the unknown. Khai shut her eyes and exhaled, leaning her head against the leather headrest and looking up through the moon roof. “Don’t you dare die in there, Milo,” she said to herself.

Krueger kept a low profile as he crept through the woods, hanging onto his carbine by its barrel shroud in his left hand. When he arrived at the edge of the clearing he surveyed the area from behind an old tree trunk, noting a swimming pool, outdoor tennis court and handball wall, and the house itself. From his position he could readily see five armed Praetorians patrolling the yard. He could see the one closest to him had a pair of night vision goggles folded up on his forehead. He held his hand on his communicator as Krueger raised his rifle and took aim.

“Bloodhound Three to Actual, no sign of either target,” he said.

The moment he released his communicator Krueger fired, sending a bullet through his temple and killing him instantly. Krueger darted over to where the man fell and inspected him, taking the goggles off his forehead and noticing a fragmentation grenade fastened to his vest.

He recalled a high-value-target rescue he and his team ran in Angola over a decade ago, when they created a distraction to lure the guards away while he secured their objective. He thought to employ the same tactic here.

Krueger laid the Praetorian back down onto his chest to tuck the bomb between the ground and his body and pulled the pin, keeping the lever in place. He quickly scanned the area again before retreating back towards the woods and drawing his P30L.

According to Khai, Simon Wells’ home was the only one for miles in every direction; if that weren’t the case, this would have certainly backfired.

He fired into the air twice, and retreated deeper into the shadows as three of the Praetorians approached where the gunshots came from, noticing the body on the floor. He moved in a wide semicircle around them as they inspected their fallen comrade.

“Base Plate,” one of them said, “We got a body here.” He rested his carbine on the floor and put both hands on the fallen man’s shoulders to move him. “Stand by—”

By the time he noticed the active grenade it was too late.

“Get back—!”

Two of them were lost in the explosion, and the third wasn’t far behind them. Now all eyes were on that corner of the property, per Krueger’s design. “Base Plate, Bloodhound One,” another praetorian exclaimed. “Heard some kind of explosion! Secondary Target is on-site.”

Simon cursed under his breath into the communicator. “Is the woman with him?”

“Unknown. We’ll tighten our sweep on the area. Out.” He switched channels to address his team. “All units, switch to instruments and double your search. Hunt the son of a bitch down.”

 ~~

In the initial chaos, Krueger left his AR-15 behind and scaled a half-wall to pull himself up onto an awning while the other Praetorians’ attention was on the sprung trap. He entered the house through a second-floor balcony, pulling himself up over the handrail and activating the night vision goggles he took from his first victim.

He scanned the hallway, quietly unfolding his knife and maintaining a crouch as he moved from the balcony to one of the bedrooms. Once he cleared it, he put himself against the doorway, allowing one of the Praetorians to pass him by as he continued his sweep of the second floor.

Krueger maintained total silence as he crept out of the room, his knife in hand. He followed the Praetorian, and once he was in range he jabbed the blade just above the other man’s heel, severing the tendon, and then pulled the knife back out just as his victim fell backward into him with a pained groan.

Krueger cupped his hand over the man’s mouth, pulling his head back and burying the blade in his throat, silencing him, then laying him down onto the floor carefully once he stopped moving. The man was dead in a matter of seconds.

Below, the other Praetorian in the house looked up where the noise was coming from, then raised his weapon. “Stay here, sir,” he gestured Simon to remain where he was as he moved to the staircase to investigate the noise.

Krueger heard him coming; he cursed himself for not executing the move faster, the way he could when he taught it to Seza all those years ago. He had no choice but to adapt now, he knew he moment the other man got a shot off, it was over.

The Praetorian ascended the staircase and made his way to where he heard the noise, his weapon raised. Krueger kicked it from his hands as soon as he turned the corner, then dropped to one knee as he buried the blade deep into the side of the Praetorian’s right knee. He twisted the blade a little as he pressed more of his weight into the other man’s ruined leg, bringing him to the floor with him. Just as the Praetorian went for his sidearm, Krueger briskly pulled the knife back out, slashing at his neck as he fell into him and putting him down for good.

Simon waited below, trying to make sense of whose pained groan and gurgling expiration he heard. After a while he raised the .44 and turned the corner, looking up the stairs at the banister—in the darkness he could identify a trickle of blood dripping from between two of the posts. He tried his best to maintain a steady hand and move in silence toward the stairs to get a better look at who it was that was bleeding on is floor, but was forced to stop when a closed fist rested on his shoulder and a handgun’s muzzle pressed against his head behind his ear.

“Checkmate, Mr. Wells,” Krueger said.

 ~~

From the driver’s seat of Krueger’s car, Khai could see a pair of headlamps illuminate the road ahead of her, followed closely by another one. She leaned to her right to hide behind the dashboard and stay out of the oncoming drivers’ sight once they inevitably passed her by.

Her cell phone rang shortly afterward. She answered it.

“It’s clear,” Krueger said. “Come up to the house and join us in the first-floor office. There’s something I think you should hear.”

Khai understood now. Krueger never intended to take on all of the Praetorians, his plan was to get Simon to cancel the kill order he placed on them. Now that they were gone and in the clear, it was safe for her to join them again. “I’ll be right there,” she replied.

She brought the sedan back to life and let the engine purr a little before putting the car into Drive and heading up the road, from where the other vehicles came. After about a minute she pulled into Simon’s driveway and shut the engine off, then stepped out of the car and pushed on the door with her hip to shut it. She rested her left hand in her coat pocket as she walked up to the front door and pushed down on the latch to open it, then quietly shut it behind her once she entered the house.

Her sneakers quieted her steps as she made her way through Simon’s foyer and reached into her coat to draw her semi-auto .357. She let it hang by her side as she entered Simon’s home office and walked up to him, stopping a few yards away.

“Hello, Miss Khai,” Simon deadpanned upon seeing her. He sat behind his desk, his hand by a glass of whiskey, with Krueger behind him to his left; in Krueger’s hand was Simon’s loaded .44.

“Where are your wife and son?” she asked him.

“They’re spending the weekend at her sister’s out of town.” He took from his whiskey glass. “Figured they didn’t need to see what’s about to happen to me.”

“No,” she murmured, “I suppose they don’t…” She raised her gun and held him in the sights. “Simon Wells. For your past and recent actions against the Marlow Partners, and your failed attempts on the life of one of their agents, you are disavowed from the fold. Your membership with the organization as well as the privileges included with that membership are, by your own hand, revoked.” She thumbed back the hammer. “We’ve been ordered to kill you. I’m told there’s something you’d like to share with me before we carry out that order?”

“I figured you’d like to know why,” he said. “Why I turned my back on everything I had.”

Khai blinked. “Go on.”

Simon exhaled. “In 2005,” he began, “my mother was killed when she lost control of her car and sped into oncoming traffic. The coroner ruled it an accident, but my father and I both knew it was murder.”

“That was never proven,” Khai said.

“Not by the partners,” he continued. “But he and I dug deeper than they did, and found out the Company bought the mechanics who worked on her car, and sabotaged it… and then there was dad.”

“I remember,” she answered. “Massive heart attack, 2010. I was in the room when it happened.”

“Yeah,” Simon said. “You were. You and Isaac and Karl, you were there every step of the way, right up ‘till the day he died.”

Khai lowered the gun and took a step toward him. “How dare you blame us for that?” she challenged. “I looked up to your father; Karl and Isaac, they adored him! The three of us, we did everything in our power to help that man after he lost your mother.”

“You didn’t let him grieve,” Simon said. “Not properly.” He took another sip from his glass. “The stress, the broken heart, whatever it was that gave him that un-survivable heart attack, he got from you three.”

Khai exhaled and shook her head. “So, what then? Was all of this to avenge William?”

“The life,” he declared, “The Marlow Partners, they destroyed my family, Elizabeth. I did what I did not just for them, but for all the other families you and your club tore apart. You ever stop to wonder how many widows and orphans we’ve made over the last year?” He finished his drink and set the glass down on the desk, leaning back in his chair a little. “And now here they are again ripping up another family—one more widow, one more fatherless boy. Just another notch on the belt for the high-and-mighty Partners.”

Khai shut her eyes and let her head hang while she inhaled. She let it out, then looked back up to reestablish eye contact. “I suppose there’s no convincing you otherwise,” she conceded.

“Maybe there is,” Krueger noted. “I can’t speak for the Partners’ past deeds,” he began as he opened up the cylinder of Simon’s revolver, “and because I still have a job to do, I can’t allow you to live. But I can offer you a choice.” He emptied the six bullets into his left hand and put one back into the cylinder, rotating it so it would fire next time the trigger was pulled. “Die by my hand,” he elaborated as he placed the weapon on the desk. “Or die by your own.”

Simon looked at the hand cannon that once belonged to his father, then back up at Krueger. “What difference does it make to you?”

“None,” he said plainly. “But I’m guessing it might make one to you. If I or Miss Khai were to shot you here and now, you would die a traitor. Your name and legacy would be stricken from every record they’re in and the world you unenthusiastically helped shape would forget you. But if you took your own life before I could, the world may yet remember you differently.”

“Is that so?” Simon ventured. His hand rested on the revolver. “And what’s to stop me from turning this gun on either of you?”

“If you did the other one of us would shoot you, even if you weren’t dead before squeezing the trigger. So ask yourself—would you like to be forgotten as just another in the sea of nameless faces of men and women I’ve killed, or would you rather be remembered as a man who had the conviction to challenge his assassin and deny him his target?”

Simon broke eye contact as he mused to himself a while, running his fingertips over the engraving in the gun’s barrel. Then he reached over to pick it up with his right hand, thumbing back the hammer. He looked back up at Krueger, locking eyes with him for a few seconds before he looked over at Khai. He offered her a downward nod before breaking eye contact and looking straight ahead and straightening his posture in the chair. And then Simon pressed the muzzle of the revolver under his chin and pulled the trigger.

“Wise decision,” Krueger stated.

Krueger turned away from Simon’s nearly-headless body and started walking toward Khai. She handed him her cell phone to call Hayden as she reset the hammer of her gun and put it back into her coat. She turned away to follow Krueger, taking a few steps in the direction before stopping to look over her shoulder at what was left of Simon Wells. After a moment she turned away to continue following Krueger toward the exit.

“It’s done,” Krueger said as soon as Isaac Hayden answered the phone. “Simon took his own life before I could get to him.”

Hayden was quiet for a while after Krueger spoke. “Noted,” he finally said. “I’ll ensure that his wife and son will be provided for.”

“Understood, Mr. Hayden.” Krueger ended the call and opened the front door for Khai behind him. She traded his car key for her phone when they made it to the sedan, then entered and drove away from the Wells residence.

 ~~~~

They returned to Khai’s home in Westchester half an hour later to find the lights restored and a new nondescript sedan sitting in her driveway. She fished her house key one handed out of her coat pocket and opened the front door, letting Krueger follow her into the foyer. The bodies that they left behind were gone, along with the blood on the floor and walls.

Khai paused a few steps into the foyer, and let out a tired sigh. Krueger watched her shoulders slump as she exhaled, and he walked up to wrap a supportive arm around her and walk her to the living area. He set her down onto the couch opposite the wall-mounted television, and she absentmindedly peeled her coat off one shoulder at a time. She maintained a blank stare at the far wall, her elbows resting on her knees.

Krueger watched her closely. “Are you okay?” he asked. “After all of what’s happened.”

Khai blinked slowly. “I just watched my business partner kill himself,” she said. “He did try to have me killed twice today, and he did betray my family, but still… he was my brother by trade.”

“You’ll make it through this, Liz,” Krueger reassured her. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Whatever you’re feeling right now, I promise you’ll get past it.”

“I’m mostly just feeling hollow,” she admitted. “Alone… scared.” Her last word was a barely audible whimper.

Krueger had seen it before. Khai’s adrenaline was running high for most of the day. Now that it was finally filtering out of her system, all the emotions kept in check by her prolonged fight-or-flight state began to surface and hit her all at once. She was tired, overwhelmed, and terrified. It was a small miracle she managed to keep herself together in all of this.

She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. “Can you stay with me?” she appealed.

Krueger took his coat and body armor off and laid them down onto an ottoman along with his handgun and holster. He walked over to Khai, placing himself onto the couch immediately to her right, between her and a neatly folded Berkshire blanket. He looked over at her and turned his left palm upward, offering it to her.

Khai took his hand, weaving her fingers between his and curling up on the couch next to him. She reached across herself with her other hand and held onto his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder.

And there they sat, in shared silence, looking at the black television screen.

 ~~~~

Krueger opened his eyes later than night, and looked at Khai snuggled up under the Berkshire blanket with him, fast asleep with her head on his chest. He shut his eyes only for a moment; when he opened them again it was morning, and Khai was in the kitchen looking through her cabinets for what she could salvage, still in her tank top and flare-bottom pants.

He sat up, letting the blanket fall off of him as he rubbed the back of his neck to massage the muscle a little. “Guten morgen,” he said, loud enough for her to hear in the other room.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Hey..!” she extolled. “How’d you sleep?”

“Not bad,” he answered. He sat up fully, reaching across his chest and pinning his arm to it with the other one to stretch. “A little stiff, but no complaints otherwise.”

“That’s probably the couch... or age,” she jested. She found an intact Moka pot and two undamaged coffee cups.

“Very funny,” he retorted, smiling. He switched to stretch his other arm. “Thirty-six was only nine years ago.” He was very happy to see her sense of humor was back, and that whatever she was feeling after yesterday night was gone. She was back to herself.

“Whatever you say, old man,” she chuckled. “You’re welcome to use the bathroom upstairs. Go ahead and take a toothbrush from of the pack under the sink.”

“Danke.” Krueger stood up, folding the Berkshire blanket back up and placing where he first found it, and headed up the spiral stairs to the bathroom.

After brushing his teeth, Krueger cupped his hands under the faucet and splashed cool water over his face, then ran his still-wet hands through his hair before shutting the water off and burying his face in a hanging towel to dry off. He looked away from the towel to see Khai leaning against the doorway, her black hair down and her arms wrapped around herself. She smiled warmly at him.

Khai chuckled to herself, coyly looking toward the floor as she uncrossed her arms and took a slow, exaggerated step backwards. She reestablished eye contact for a brief moment before disappearing behind the corner.

Krueger watched her turn the corner, and followed her out of the bathroom. He found her leaning against the wall with a not-so innocent closed-lipped grin on her face. He reciprocated her expression, placing his hands on the walls to either side of her to corral her in.

Khai reached up to rest her forearms on his shoulders and pull herself up to him. She felt his hands rest on her hips and bring her closer. Fabric was all that separated them now. “No interruptions this time,” she purred.

Krueger brought their mouths together to share a tender kiss, and then a second one which they held for several seconds. Khai wrapped her arms around the back of his neck to pull herself in and physically deepen their kiss as Krueger’s arms snaked around her back.

They briefly broke contact to look in each other’s eyes and kissed again, even harder and deeper this time. Khai trembled a little as Krueger stepped back, letting him lift her tank top up and raising her arms so he could more easily free her from it. She felt goosebumps spread up her forearms as his fingertips returned to her, running up her stomach and chest. She returned in kind, pulling his t-shirt up from his waist and paring it off of him before reaching back up to reclaim his lips. They shared several heated kisses before breaking contact again, and she took his hand to lead him to her bed onto which she fell backward and pulled him on top of her.

 ~~

“Where did this come from?” Krueger asked, tracing a fine scar on the inside of her wrist with his thumb. His head and shoulders were up against the headboard, and Khai lay tucked beside him under the bed sheets.

“That?” Khai held her left arm out in front of the two of them, her head lying on his bare chest. “Went over the handlebars of a quad. Spring Break, junior year.” She returned her hand to his stomach. “Far from my finest moment,” she chuckled. “Major lapse in good judgement there.”

“Good judgement comes from experience,” he said. “And a lot of that experience leaves marks.”

“Is that how you see it?” She turned her head to look up at his face. “What lesson came from this one, then?” She traced the U-shaped scar under his left cheekbone with her finger.

Krueger recalled that day. “If you’re close enough to land an elbow, you’re close enough to take an elbow.”

“Oh? And what set of circumstances could you possibly have created to learn such a lesson?”

“An underground boxing ring in Muscat,” he said plainly. “We were chasing a war criminal, it was as good a place as any to catch a lead.”

“Did you at least find him there?”

“No, it turned out he was in Abu Dhabi.” He looked at her and smirked. “Not everybody gives good intel like you do.”

“Only the best,” she jested. Her eyes moved further down his lean athletic frame and settled on a trio of bumpy lines under his left pectoral. She recognized them as old stab wounds. “And these?” she inquired, tracing them with her fingers again.

Krueger looked down at them. “Marrakesh. We were in pursuit of sex traffickers operating there… if not for Seza I might have died on a bazaar floor that day.”

“Well,” Khai said, “that’s two things I’ll have to thank her for next time I see her... and that?”

Krueger looked to where she pointed—a small slightly discolored crater in his waist, near his right hip. “Shootout at a club in Crown Heights… and these I got in Hoboken,” he noted, indicating the off-yellow splotches on his chest and stomach.

“Right,” she said. “I was there for those..!” She rested her head on him again, letting her hand fall onto his chest. “They say whatever doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. By that logic, you ought to be immortal now.”

“Maybe,” he said, cradling her and looking her in the eye. “Or maybe I’ve just gotten very lucky.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Are you hungry?”

“God, famished,” she said. She got herself off of him to let him up off the bed, and watched him sit at its edge and stand to recover his pants from whatever corner of the room they were flung to. She studied the numerous discolorations, scars, and marks on his back—old injuries that never got a chance to properly heal—and wondered to herself how many of them his ex-wives helped treat.

How many more would show up over the next few years? How many wounds would she have to suture up? How much more of this could his body handle?

Krueger found his clothes and dressed himself again before heading down the hallway toward the stairs and eventually the kitchen. Khai followed suit, getting out of the bed to reclaim her pants and tank top from wherever they ended up. She briefly stopped in her walk-in closet to grab a pullover hoodie which she threw on over her shirt and joined Krueger downstairs.

 ~~

Krueger diced a whole apple and banana atop a thin cutting board while the egg whites simmered in another pan on the stove. He added the fruit to the oats he had cooking in a saucepan and topped the mixture with cinnamon. He stirred it a few times to mash the banana and let it melt into the oats, then turned his attention to the egg whites to ensure they didn’t burn too badly. He shook enough salt into his hand to cover the middle of his palm and ground an equal amount of fresh black pepper into the salt, then spread it over the eggs.

When it was done he set one bowl of oats aside for Khai and another for himself, placing them next to the plates of egg whites he prepared. Then he set the saucepan in the sink and filled it with water before joining her at the center island with the coffee she prepared for them. He spooned half a teaspoon of raw sugar into it as she sampled his oats.

“That’s delicious!” she said. “Where did you find that recipe?”

“Ah, that one I found while touring an obscure corner of the world called YouTube.” He smirked as she chuckled. “They say you can add honey if you like, but I prefer it this way.”

“This is actually perfect,” she commented. “The fruit adds all the sugar it needs. It’s sweet, but not saccharine.”

“Speaking of which,” he raised the coffee cup, “this is superb.”

“Café Bustelo,” she said. “Only the best for you..!”

They shared their breakfast for a while before Khai slowed down, her brow furrowed as she chewed.

“What’s wrong?” Krueger asked.

Khai swallowed a mouthful of egg whites. “I just keep going back to what Simon said. About creating widows and orphans.”

“Don’t let his words get under your skin Liz,” Krueger said.

“Oh, they’re not,” she clarified. “I made my peace with that years ago, it’s just… I can’t shake the feeling we’ll be doing this again in ten years with his son, you know?”

“Maybe… or maybe young Mr. Wells will learn from Simon’s example and follow a better path,” he mused. He took up his coffee cup again. “Whatever that might be in this life.”

 ~~

Krueger crossed the front door’s threshold and turned back to Khai leaning against the doorway.

“So will I see you Monday?” she asked him.

“That depends,” he said. “Will you have a job for me?”

“Well, I’m sure I can find something we’ll need your help with,” she added with a smile. Then she tiptoed up to plant a long kiss on his lips which he returned, holding her close to himself as he did. “See you later, Milo,” she finally said.

“Auf wiedersehen, Liz.”

And then Krueger went over to his sedan parked in her driveway, entered through the driver’s side door, started the engine, and backed into the street to head home.

It was just before noon when he arrived in front of his home. As he shut the engine off and stepped out of the car, another man stepped out of the passenger-side door of a dark blue Rolls-Royce Phantom parked up the street and slowly approached him. “Milo Krueger?” the man asked. 

Krueger arched his brow in response. He recognized the fruity, sonorous baritone voice of the other man speaking to him. “Yes.”

The tall, broad-shouldered dark-skinned man who stepped out of the Rolls-Royce wore a masterfully tailored navy blue suit and crisp white shirt with dark brown lace-up shoes under his pale gray coat. On his left wrist was a gold-and-silver watch with a minimalist blue face, and he wore a navy blue tie accented with a gold and silver paisley design. 

“Do not be alarmed by my presence here,” the well-dressed man continued. He had his hands up in front of him in a non-threatening gesture as he slowly closed the distance between them and stopped a few yards from Krueger. “Your home address is a classified piece of information accessible only by my colleagues. The Branch doesn’t know where you live,” he reassured. His short hair and trimmed beard were accented with sparsely placed gray hairs. “I’m sorry for the, theatrics, but I felt this was a conversation best had in-person. I’m Isaac Hayden,” he finally introduced himself. “I’d like your debrief on these recent events.” He gestured the idling Rolls-Royce a few yards from them. “This way, please.”

Krueger followed him to the car, where Hayden opened the rear passenger-side door to let him in. He shut it and entered through the rear driver-side door, signaling the driver to take off and begin circling the block.

“The loss of Simon Wells at the head of the Lower New York Branch is… devastating,” Hayden began, looking out the window. “But, I do find some elation in the fact that the damage done is limited to his passing. And I owe a large part of that to your efforts.” He turned to face Krueger. “You’ve demonstrated your value and resourcefulness to me and my partners many times over, and for that I thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“However, the resolution of the aforementioned problem has presented me with two, unforeseen, complications.” Hayden leaned forward a little before he continued. “My flagship branch is without its captain, and I have very little time to find a suitable candidate to lead it.”

“Well,” Krueger said. “If I may make a suggestion, Mr. Hayden, why not let Elizabeth Khai direct the Branch? I’ve watched her work for some time now, and from what I understand she has more experience in a leadership role than anyone else there. I can’t imagine somebody better suited to fill the void Mr. Wells left behind.”

“Yes,” Hayden mused to himself, “she is the obvious choice… I agree with everything you’ve said,” he continued for Krueger to hear him. “I’ll forward your recommendation to the other four, but it must pass a vote before any decisions are finalized. Still, I see no reason they wouldn’t endorse her for the position.” He looked back out the window. “Frankly I’d be shocked if they didn’t…”

“So we’ve addressed your first complication,” Krueger said. “And I’m guessing I’m the second.”

“Yes, Mr. Krueger,” Hayden confirmed. “You are. You’re a contractor without ties to any one organization—I can’t allow my rivals access to your talents and expertise.”

“So is this the part where you kill me?”

“Of course not,” Hayden said, reclaiming his eyes. “I can’t afford to have you killed, you’re much too valuable to us alive... I want to fold you in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hayden,” Krueger said. “But as I explained to Mr. Wells, I’m not one of you. I’m just an old soldier turned independent gun. I lack the ambition to learn a new trade and am quite happy doing what I know.”

“But, you’re very good at what you do,” Hayden noted. “A clever, resourceful, morally ambiguous man with a unique set of skills.” He chuckled a little at his next thought. “So there may be a way… I think we can work together and resolve this complication in a way that benefits us both.”

“You may be right, Mr. Hayden,” Krueger said. “Although my services are typically offered á-la-carte, I’m certainly open to a longer-term arrangement with a retainer.”

“That’s all I needed to hear, Mr. Krueger.” The Rolls-Royce came to a stop in front of Krueger’s home. “Return to the branch Monday morning and we’ll discuss the numbers.” Hayden handed Krueger a keycard. “This will give you access to the office.”

Krueger accepted the card. “I’ll be there.” Krueger opened the door to let himself out.

“Thank you again for everything you’ve done, Mr. Krueger,” Hayden said from inside the car. “And for your time.”

“Of course Mr. Hayden. I’ll speak to you Monday.”

Krueger shut the rear passenger-side door and stepped away from the car as it pulled into the street and away from him, heading off to its destination. He watched it for as long as he could, and when it disappeared from his sight he turned to head toward his house.

He paused when he felt his phone buzz in his coat pocket. He fished it out and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Dad,” spoke a younger man’s voice on the other end. “It’s Alex. Sorry I didn’t return your call earlier, but I finally have a chance to breathe.” He spoke in German.

“Don’t worry about it, Alex,” Krueger answered in German as well. “I understand you’re busy.” He continued toward his home.

“How have you been?”

“About the same. I actually landed some stable work here in America, for a Manhattan-based operation. I’m set to negotiate a salary Monday morning.” He opened his front door and stepped into the house.

“That’s great! Mom and I were worried about you for a while when you bounced from job to job.”

“You two don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m doing fine here.” He took a moment before sharing his next thought. “It’s good to hear your voice again, son.”

“Yours too, dad.”

 ~~~~~~

Krueger tapped the keycard he got from Isaac Hayden onto a reader beside the glass doors Monday morning, dressed in a dark turtle neck sweater and slacks with a medium gray jacket, and pulled one open to cross into the office space. There was nobody else there yet at this hour, so he took his time walking through the space as he made his way to the conference room waiting area.

The receptionist’s desk was empty, and the conference room doors were open. He walked through the hallway to the open space and found Khai looking out the window at Sixth Avenue below her. She wore a dark blazer and lavender blouse with round-toe pumps, and was standing at the perfect angle for him to admire her profile, curves, and the short slit in the pencil skirt she wore over her black tights.

Krueger knocked on the wall to get her attention.

She turned to face him. “Oh!” she nearly gasped. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was here..!”

“It’s just us,” he said, taking a few steps toward her with his hands in his pockets. “You’re in early.”

“Yeah.” She went towards the desk. “A lot of affairs to get in order before the transition of command. Simon left a mess behind for me to clean up.” She leaned against the corner of the desk to face him.

“So will I be calling this the Khai Branch from now on?”

Khai laughed a little at the thought. “Not yet, at least,” she noted. “I mostly think they’re just letting me direct the operation until they find somebody better.”

“I don’t think so,” Krueger noted. He stopped about two feet from her. “I spoke to Mr. Hayden the other day, he’s about ready to hand you the keys to this place. I feel this, transition, is more of a practice run than something temporary… and if you’ll allow me to be honest,” he disclosed, coming in a little closer, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Khai tucked her hair behind her ear and offered him a sly smile. “Did you come all the way out here dressed like that just to shower me with compliments this morning?” she purred. “Because it is doing something for me.”

“That’s just one reason I’m here this morning,” Krueger added with a similar tone. “Mr. Hayden offered me a position,” he continued. “Service as-needed for a retainer.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you more often?” Khai proposed, holding onto his open jacket.

“I rather hope it does.”

Danielle’s voice in the hallway pulled them from their moment. “Mr. Wells?” she called out. “Sorry I’m late, I—oh.” She paused at the sight of Krueger and Khai in the conference room, having been given just enough time to reestablish some distance. “Good morning, Miss Khai. Mr. Krueger.”

Krueger gave her a respectful nod hello.

“Hey, Danielle,” Khai said, adjusting her glasses. “How was your weekend?”

“It was good, thanks… where’s Mr. Wells?”

“Simon had to address a family emergency,” Khai said. “It doesn’t look like he’ll be back... He’s having me keep things in order during the interim.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that…”

“Yeah, I was too.” Her tone told Krueger she meant it.

“Well, I’m up front if either of you need me.”

“Thanks, Danielle.”

Krueger waited for Danielle to leave before he spoke again. “Well done,” he said.

“I don’t even know where that came from,” Khai replied. “I suppose I picked up a thing or two from you.”

“It would appear so…” Krueger went back for the door. “Aren’t you going to wish me luck on my interview?”

“You don’t need luck,” Khai said, sitting down behind the desk. “I think you’ll be just fine.”

Krueger shot her a warm smile before exiting the conference room, leaving Khai alone in the big empty space. As many times as she’s been in the room with other people over the years, she never had this view of the area. It was new and far from comfortable.

She exhaled and laced her fingers together atop the desk. “Yeah,” she said to herself. “You got this, Liz. I think you’ll be just fine….”

(Masterlist | Season 2)

[iruka-2013]

[Frozen] Fanfic: The Magic One (1/1)

Summary: Anna follows Elsa on a clandestine training run. (Written in the wake of the first teaser trailer for Frozen II, Feb./March 2019.) (Approx. 3,600 words.) AO3 link: [X]

Rating: K (pure non-shippy Frozen sisterliness)

[If you haven’t seen the first Frozen II trailer, take two minutes and view it here. If you have lived under a rock for the past five years haven’t seen the movie Frozen, then watch it first, as the fic is littered with spoilers. Hoping y’all will forgive a little Frozen spamming in the coming days, as the movie is one my favorites ever and that blasted trailer has taken over my brain...] 

It was a thundery, foggy morning on the black beaches near the Black Cliffs at the foot of the Black Mountains near Arendelle. Chilly and dry as yet, but the sky flashed with lightning and threatened rain.

Princess Anna crouched behind a rock at the top of a fifty-foot cliff, holding a spyglass to one eye in tense, frigid fingers. Its circle framed a human figure, trailed by a line of icy, glowing footprints, running impossibly across the watery trough between wave-crests. A streak of white flashed from the figure’s outstretched arms, and a section of the nearest wave vanished in an explosion of white spray, leaving a V-shaped bridge of ice that stood for several seconds against the beating of the dark, stormy water.

“Wow,” breathed Anna.

Anna had learned, on the rare occasions during their childhood when her sister had come out of her rooms, how to tail Elsa while staying out of sight, and that knowledge had served her well on today’s long hike from the castle. With the help of the dark sky and the fog, Anna’s charcoal gray dress and purple cloak camouflaged most of her body against rocks, trees, and grassy hummocks, though she had to be careful about exposing her gold trim and pale face when Elsa was looking her way. If her sister had wanted an audience, after all, she’d have said so before she began sneaking out of the castle alone to hone her powers.

Anna’s breath stopped as the sea beneath the ice bridge surged and broke it apart, burying its occupant in an avalanche of ice slabs and black water. Elsa’s first attempt to cross the breakers had ended with her disappearing beneath a massive wave, only to drag her dripping body out of the surf precisely 256 heartbeats later, by Anna’s count, and reposition herself for a second charge. Her first target had been a tall black rock sticking out of the ocean beyond the first breakers, but she had kept going after reaching it, distant gold flashes marking her path, as if she planned to cross the whole North Sea on foot.

One part of Anna stood in stunned awe of the lone bluish-white figure matching her ice magic against the elemental force of a stormy sea. Another part prickled with terror and began counting the beats of her pounding heart again.

What if she doesn’t come back this time?

Then I’ll just have to jump in and rescue her.

Of course, that would be easier if Anna knew how to swim… but to save Elsa’s life, she’d figure it out somehow. That was the power of true love.

Lightning flashed overhead, drawing Anna’s eyes toward the sky. Maybe Elsa had come here because she felt like battling something outside her own head for a change. Freezing the ocean during a thunderstorm was the most dangerous thing she had thought up to try so far, but if she could move tons of snow in the avalanche-prone mountain passes—her previous record for dangerousness—Anna felt inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt.

At least for a few minutes.

Biting her lip, Anna brought the spyglass to her eye again and searched the roiling sea for any sign of her sister. It remained empty.

The wind gusts were getting louder, and she’d lost count of her heartbeats. How long has it been? Too long. Anna jumped to her feet, shoved the spyglass into the leather bag hanging at her side, and began searching for a way to descend the few dozen feet of cliff between her and the beach.

There was no path, but the jagged footholds on the cliff face would be faster anyway, as long as she kept Kristoff’s rock-climbing lessons firmly in mind. She lowered herself over the edge by her fingertips, then scraped, scrambled, and slid down the cliff more rapidly than was probably safe—a little too rapidly at the end, as she missed a foothold and fell the last few feet in a shower of dirt and scree onto the smooth, black pebbles of the beach.

Anna forced herself to her feet, ignoring her new scrapes and bruises. A few yards away she spotted the low rock at the edge of the surf where Elsa had left her jacket and boots. The sea seemed far more dangerous down here, the foot of the cliffs terrifyingly close to the huge, crashing waves.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and bellowed, “Elsaaa!” The wind blew her cry back in her face.

Anna swept the hair out of her eyes and fumbled the spyglass into position again, noting with a sick feeling that that rock beyond the breakers was much farther away than it had seemed from the clifftop. No way Elsa could possibly—

“You’re holding it backward,” said a dry voice from behind her.

“Oh.” Anna felt her face grow hot as she spun around, hastily lowering the wide end of the spyglass from her eye. There was Elsa, barefoot, dripping, and looking as roughed up by the ocean as Anna had been by her descent down the cliff. Still queenly, though—the unaccustomed glint of steel in her eyes helped with that—and still gorgeous.

“Elsa...” Anna gulped and struggled for words, waving the spyglass at the sea behind her. “What was that?” she burst out at last. “That—that thing with running over the ocean as if it were some, some—I mean, that wave must’ve been twenty feet high, and you punched it like—you could’ve—it’s amazing you didn’t…”

Elsa folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “I’m confused. Am I being chewed out or complimented?”

Fury flared in Anna’s chest, snapping her back to coherence. How dare she act so smug!

“Oh, this is definitely a chewing out.” She balled her fists and pointed one finger at her sister’s face. “You scared the life out of me! It’s a miracle you’re still breathing and not permanently buried under fifty feet of water like Mama and Papa! Did you even think about what could happen if—”

The rest of her words were drowned out by a deafening boom, which came with the beginning of the long-threatened downpour on their heads. Elsa snatched up her discarded clothes, then grabbed Anna’s hand and dragged her toward the base of the cliffs. “Come on. I know where we can wait out this storm.”

It wasn’t a cave so much as a shallow overhang that would be flooded with seawater when the tide came in, but it was enough shelter to keep them from getting any wetter. Elsa was soaked already, of course, but she didn’t seem to care as long as Anna stayed dry.

They sank down side by side on a low black boulder worn smooth by the tides, and Elsa began methodically wringing water from her ponytail. Her momentary cockiness had evaporated; though she didn’t respond to Anna’s outburst, the way she hunched her shoulders and avoided her sister’s eyes showed that she expected her chewing out to resume any moment, and half-believed she deserved it. Anna bit her lip, feeling like she’d kicked a puppy.

Fix this, Anna. Now, before she proves she doesn’t need a bedroom door to close herself off.

Anna unfastened the gold chain at her neck and removed her heavy purple cloak, holding it open like a bath towel. “Here, Elsa.”  

Elsa always claimed not to feel the cold, but they had learned the hard way that she could get sick. She scooted closer to Anna’s side and let her sister drape the warm cloak around her shoulders, her troubled expression giving way to a tentative smile. “Thanks.”

She started to bend down again, fiddling with her boots, but Anna put a hand on her shoulder to make her look up. “Elsa, what were you doing out there? Were you actually trying to cross the ocean on foot?”

Elsa’s expression turned serious, and she was silent for a few seconds. Finally she asked, “How much do you know about the state of Arendelle’s defenses?”

“You mean the army? Our guys in uniforms?”

“They’re not exactly an army.” Elsa sat back against the cliff behind them, fidgeting with the cloak’s chain fastener. Her eyes looked faraway. “‘Our guys in uniforms’ are the Royal Guards, and there are only a few dozen of them. Our next line of defense is townspeople wielding kitchen implements and maybe an occasional pitchfork. We have no other means of protecting ourselves… except me. I need to learn the limits of my powers so I can be ready to use them if we’re threatened. Hans gave us a wakeup call about that, at least.

“Since we’re alone, this may be the best time for another thing as well.” She paused and took deep breath, turning to look her sister in the eye. “Anna, I need to talk to you about something of vital importance to the future of Arendelle.”

“Huh?” For a second Anna wondered where she had heard those exact words before—then she sat up straight, raising her hands as if to ward them off. “Oh, nononono. You are not giving me Papa’s you’re-next-in-line-for-the-throne-when-I-die speech.”

Elsa blinked. “How do you know about that?”

“Because I was eavesdropping through your door when he gave it to you—all that stuff about traditional royal funeral arrangements and ‘ensuring an orderly succession.’ I was seven. Scarred me for life. I remember you crying for, like, an hour after he was done.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Elsa smiled faintly. “I needed to hear it, though. I never could’ve guessed how soon I’d have to—”

Anna stood up abruptly. “Elsa, you’re starting to freak me out. Do you have some kind of—of death wish? Are you trying to follow them?”

“Our parents?” Elsa looked shocked. “Of course not.”

“Then why? I just watched you get buried alive by falling ice! Do you have any reasonable… reason for pushing your powers that far?”

“Not yet,” Elsa admitted, “but I feel like the time is coming when I’ll need to know a lot more about what they can do.”

Yeah, well, I feel like you won’t live to see it if you keep this up!

Anna pushed away the thought and swallowed the words. That approach wouldn’t get her anywhere with a woman who valued her life as little as Elsa did. 

She breathed out slowly, fingering the gold collar of her dress. “The thing is… what I want more than anything else right now is some catch-up time. A few years to just be happy together. I know ignoring royal responsibilities doesn’t make them go away, but do we have to talk about the succession thing so soon?”

“I wish we didn’t, but we may not have as much time as we’d like.”

“Before what?” Anna narrowed her eyes, realizing that she wasn’t the only one dodging an important subject. She lowered herself back onto the rock, meeting Elsa’s eyes. “Elsa, what are you not telling me? Is the thing about Hans and our defenses all that’s bothering you?”

“It may be nothing,” Elsa murmured. “I’ve just been doing a little studying about the ancient history of Arendelle.”

“And?”

“And… I’ll tell you more when it’s time.” She frowned at the hurt look on Anna’s face. “I’m not shutting you out, Anna, but I am asking you to have faith in me. If I had to leave on an important mission alone, for the good of Arendelle, could you trust that I was acting for the best? I need to know the kingdom would be in good hands if something happened to me.”

Something. If. Outside, the black, stormy North Sea raged and crashed—the sea that had swallowed their parents’ ship whole, the sea that Elsa had charged into twice.

Anna folded her arms stubbornly. “You told me love is the key to controlling your powers, Elsa. What exactly did you mean by that?”

Elsa raised an eyebrow, but she answered without hesitation. “Before the Thaw, keeping my powers under control felt like holding my breath all the time. Now I only have to focus on how much I love you, Anna—what you mean to me, how much better my life is with you in it—and the magic does what I want it to every time. Just like when we were little. The fear is still there, but thinking of you lets me crowd it out of my mind.”

She’d expected that answer, but hearing it still made Anna uncomfortable—it made her want to argue, to hash out why someone as amazing as Elsa thought so highly of someone like her.

For the thousandth time, she suppressed the impulse. “If that’s true, then we need to stick together. You spent thirteen years trying to carry everyone’s problems alone, only to have it blow up in your face.”

“Touche,” said Elsa under her breath.

“And that means…” Anna squared her shoulders. “…if you want to keep doing this battling-the-ocean thing, I’m gonna have to dive in after you.”

“Dive in after me?” Elsa stared at her. “You can’t do that. You’d drown.”

Anna threw up her hands. “I know! If that idea scares you, please tell me there’s another way to hammer into your stubborn brain how it feels to watch the person you love most in the world pointlessly risk her life trying to do the impossible!”

“Until I’ve pushed my powers to the limit,” Elsa said, “how do we know what’s impossible?”

Anna gave a frustrated huff and ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the rock wall. Elsa had spent years forcibly confining within her body enough power to create build castles and freeze the sea. In a way, Anna couldn’t blame her for wanting to turn it loose once in a while. “So you’re testing your powers… how? Scientifically?”

“Well, I’ve been… trying things. Difficult things.”

“Like crossing the North Sea on foot,” Anna said flatly.

“Like… seeing how far I can get. The next rock, or the next island.”

“In a thunderstorm?”

Elsa looked at her coolly. “I’ve already frozen calm seawater. What more could I learn from that?”

“Are you writing things down—keeping records?” Anna pursed her lips as she thought of something. “Did you realize you were gone almost twice as long the second time you ran into the ocean as you were the first? I lost count around four hundred, and the first time was only two hundred fifty-something. Of course, I was counting heartbeats instead of seconds, and you pretty much had me panicking by then, so the time might be a little off…”

Judging from Elsa’s surprised expression, none of these things had occurred to her. She looked toward the tall rock far out in the surf, the grim steeliness in her eyes replaced by a spark of genuine interest.

“Four hundred?” she murmured. “So if we divide that by two, and the rock is maybe fifty feet from shore, and we assume an average fluid-to-surface drag coefficient of—”

She rattled off some more math-and-science stuff, seeming happier the longer she talked, then stopped and blinked wonderingly at her sister. “You’re right—measuring and quantifying what I can do would be a perfect next step. I’m actually feeling excited about this. How did you—”

Anna grinned and wiggled one hand in the air. “Magic.”

“Anna, you’re amazing.” Elsa smiled her slightly cockeyed smile—the one she used to smile as a little girl when she gave in to Anna’s pleas to leave her comfy bed and play in the snow. “Why didn’t I realize that I needed…”

“An observer,” Anna finished, “someone to write things down while you’re busy beating on ocean waves, or throwing rocks at beehives, or whatever stupidly dangerous thing you feel you need to do to ‘test’ yourself. In other words, me.”

Elsa snorted. “You can handle that job as long as you’re not too busy diving in to ‘rescue’ me.” Her smile faded again. “You need to understand, Anna… I didn’t want you or anyone else panicking over me, or being endangered by my actions. That’s why I decided I needed to do this alone.”

“You can’t do this alone. Not the thing with your magic, and not taking off on some quest ‘for the good of Arendelle.’”

Elsa was folding her arms the way she did when she felt insecure. Anna held out her own hands, waiting for Elsa to take them before she went on. “Here’s what you need to understand, Elsa. That morning, four years ago… I was in the front hall when the messenger came banging on the gates, and I followed him up to your room. You’d already opened your door—” Of all the people to let in on the first knock! “—and I saw him kneel down in front of you and call you my queen. Right then I knew what he was going to say about Mama and Papa.

“You knew too, didn’t you? I saw it in your eyes.” She gave Elsa a faint, humorless smile. “That was when you spotted me and slammed the door again. And barely set foot outside it until Coronation Day.”

“I remember.” Elsa tried for an answering smile that came out as a grimace. “That was inexcusable of me. I failed you completely, left you to face everything alone.”

“It’s okay.” Anna squeezed Elsa’s hands. “Look, I never told you this before, but since then I’ve had actual nightmares about messengers coming to tell me I’m the new queen.”

Elsa’s eyes widened. “Anna—”

Anna locked gazes with her sister and silenced her with one raised hand. “I am not waiting at home for messengers to tell me what’s happening to you, Elsa. Wherever you go, I’m going with you. Reckless or not, I’m jumping in after you. You can’t stop me.”

Elsa nodded. “I know. You’ve already shown me.” Now she was enfolding Anna’s right hand in both of hers—the hand that had shattered Hans’ sword, though, as always, Anna shied away from that thought and all the mind-blowing baggage that came with it.

Outside, the rain was slackening. Elsa let go of Anna’s hand and reached up to resettle the cloak around her shoulders, letting a few moments of silence crawl by before she spoke again. “All right, Anna. I give you my word that I won’t leave on any vital missions for Arendelle without inviting you to come.” She shook her head. “I’d better not be making a mistake. Arendelle can’t afford to lose us both.” 

“Arendelle can’t afford to lose either one of us,” Anna said quietly, “because we can’t afford to lose each other. Our best chance to accomplish this hypothetical mission of yours is together. Besides, who else can you trust to watch your back?”

Fighting the ocean had taken its toll on Elsa after all. Drier now and suddenly weary, she leaned her head against Anna’s shoulder. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” Anna grinned and wrapped an arm around her sister, feeling lighter than she had in days. “Wow, I must be getting better at this arguing thing. I thought for sure you were going to blast me with both barrels of ‘I’m your queen and you have a royal duty as princess…’ blah blah blah.”

“Still might, if you keep gloating about it,” Elsa murmured, her eyes closed. “Don’t push your luck.”

Anna’s mind was jumping ahead. “Researching your powers together—this’ll be great. We can work out some ground rules so nobody dies, and you won’t need to sneak around anymore, because it was me you were hiding from all along, wasn’t it?”

With a sleepy half-smile, Elsa nodded. “I suppose it was.”

“I’ve gotta admit,” Anna whispered after another long silence, “if it weren’t for the you-almost-dying thing… it was pretty amazing watching you fight the ocean with ice magic. Really amazing. Spectacularly amazing.”

A gentle snore was Elsa’s only reply.

A/N: Theories about Elsa’s ocean-crossing scene in the Feb. 13 Frozen II trailer fall into two major categories: (1) She’s trapped/stranded far from home, and the only way she can escape is on foot over a barrier of water; and (2) she’s engaging in an incredibly strenuous but voluntary form of training, for unknown reasons, probably near Arendelle. For my purposes (i.e., because the first theory seems to involve the sisters being separated and I wanted Anna in my story), I’ve gone with theory #2, best articulated here. I’m aware that I could be wrong, and that the story’s whole premise may be Jossed by the next frame of new material—so enjoy it for what it is now, a plausible idea. 

For those wondering, I do mean for readers to picture Anna in her new Frozen II trailer outfit, because I like it very much and it would make good camouflage on a dark and stormy day. Now wouldn’t it be cool if they went searching together for, say, villages threatened with avalanches, which Elsa could practice triggering and dispersing safely while Anna fills page after page of her notebook with the snarkiest research notes in the history of scientific inquiry? 

(…Now I’m off to catch up some correspondence that was overdue even before the Frozen II trailer dropped, and then to maybe read some books about avalanches…)

[zrscottz-blog]

The Pilot

I was the pilot of a C 130 transporting a giant squid to the museum of natural history in New York City. Several scientists from prestigious universities and federal agencies were on board the sixteen hour flight from Santiago, Chile. They were thrilled at the prospect of studying the giant, ten legged cephalopod. The behemoth of the southern Pacific. Two male scientists, biologists from a research facility in northwest Germany couldn't wait for the eventual landing and complex transport. They convinced the lead scientist, Hans Brenner to allow them access to the custom-built tank in the cargo hold of the airplane.

"Ve only vant to zee zee eyes doctor, and our research is highly sensiteev, as you know. Vee von't deesturb the creature, just a peak before zee uzzers." The two men eagerly awaited permission while I attempted to unscramble their foreign accents.

Dr. Brenner waved the two scientists away and continued the conversation he'd been having on a state of the art satellite phone.

"Two hundered thousand dollars!", Brenner protested.

"You have got to be kidding me Alfred, these people wouldn't know what to do with that kind of money!"

I overheard the doctor's exchange and it piqued my curiosity. It turned out he was discussing the payment which the tiny fishing village off Argentina's southern coast desired for having caught the giant squid. I imagined what that kind of windfall could do for an impoverished village, possibly expanding educational programs and improving on their crumbling infrastructure. There had been strange lizards, rabid jackals, and exotic penguin species upon the villages one-lane, dirt and gravel runway. Nobody was qualified to man the ancient radio in their tiny control tower. Arrival and departure was quite treacherous, a mission I decided was worth undertaking. These scientists had a huge grant from NYC. I began to envision a brighter future for the hardworking people as Brenner relented on the phone.

I began counting my blessings, grateful for all the opportunities I'd been given in life

Cumulus, white, pom-pom shaped clouds began to crest the horizon, casting shadown across my cockpit as I recounted my harrowing adventures and looked back on my life. A wave of nostalgic contentment rushed over me while I thought of my time in the armed services and my time throughout flight school. I was good at my job and I enjoyed it immensely. I couldn't imagine a different path for me and I shut my eyes for a moment. The hum of the aircrafts propellers buoyed me and i fell into a cozy slumber.

It could not have been long before I was awakened by the altitude change and my ears began to pop uncomfortably. My instrument panel was going haywire and an irritating alarm was sounding.

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON AIRMAN?" In my daze I looked up to see Dr. Brenner's terrified, stricken face. Quickly, I adjusted the throttle, eased the control collumn back, and steadied the twenty-ton airplane, sweat beading upon my brow.

In my thirteen years transporting hazardous, often classified materials, this dozing had occurred just a handful of times. Only once did any loss of life occur. I was forced to conduct an emergency landing on the busy highway 101 skirting Los Angeles. Miraculously, I emerged from the wreckage unscathed. My cargo however did not evade the grim reaper. Sixty seven FBI recruits were unlucky and perished on impact. Fortunately, there were insurance policies in place to protect against such a tragedy and after a short investigation, some national media coverage, and a stint inside Army's psych-tech unit I was permitted to resume flying.

I felt exhilirated by this current close call and explained to the good doctor,

"Everything is fine, relax, and please take your seat."

Brenner looked worried but retreated back into the aircraft to rejoin his collegues, muttering under his breath.

Some coffee was certainly in order at this junction and I called back to the doctor,

"Hey Brenner!"

He peaked his face back into the cockpit.

"How about a cup a joe, will ya?"

The blank stare across his countenance told me he didn't take kindly to requests from a mere pilot like me, but I knew he'd fetch the coffee. After all, the success of this entire trip depended solely on me. Once again Hans withdrew to the rear, muttering.

Checking the cabin pressure and consulting my GPS equipment, I determined we were somewhere above bolivia and had a long way to go.

Just then a young woman who I'd noticed before takeoff came right into the cockpit.

"I don't know what it is you fink you're doing but you'd better cut it out. You've got Brenner all in a state. He's making us nervous."

Her English accent and doe eyes had me 'all in a state' but I played it cool.

"Oh let him be, he's fine, probably figuring a way to hoodwink those villagers. Name's Mack, didn't catch yours."

I held out my hand. She looked at me, eyebrows raised.

"Didn't frow it now did I?"

Sheesh somebody woke up on the wrong side of the fuselage, I thought. I withdrew my hand and fixed my gaze elsewhere. To my surprise she climbed into the empty copilots seat beside me.

"Sorry," she said. "That was rude, I'm Maggie Grantham."

She didn't offer a hand and her eyes remained steady forward but I could feel the mood shift, the tension lessen.

Over the mountains and jungles of Bolivia and on toward Venezuela and Brazil our conversation flowed effortlessly. We laughed. She shed a tear recounting her parents tragic deaths. We even began to flirt.

"I feel as if I've known you all of my life," she quipped, a radiant smile beaming my way.

I can remember thinking to myself how quickly time seemed to be moving. In the blink of an eye most of the passengers were asleep and we were quickly approaching the notorious Bermuda Triangle. Then, the plane lurched westward, took a deep dive about one thousand feet and I scanned the outside of my plane, searching for some cause. I recovered and found my bearings as Brenner invaded the cockpit once more.

"Shut up!' I barked before he could say a word.

"Just some turbulence, we're above water," I explained.

"Uhm well, there's a bit of a problem." Brenner stammered.

Although we hadn't gotten along pleasantly before now, I took his tone and demeanor seriously. Something was up. Once again, the aircraft took a heart pounding dip.

"Spit it out damnit!" I yelled.

Maggie looked from Brenner back to me and I could see the horror etched into her face. Her slender hand came up to cover her mouth, that universal sign of shock and trepidation.

Brenner began, "Our specimen is awake." He paused before continuing. "And angry.", he finished.

"So get it back to sleep, calm him down, that creature's gonna put us at the bottom of the Atlantic!"

Of course there were marine biologists on board who could sort this thing out. I figured there'd be tranquilizers, restraints, maybe a soft ballad to soothe the disturbed monster. But alas, the team's supply of heavy sleep-inducing narcotics were smashed, their glass vials shattered just as the squid's supposedly "safe-tested" enclosure had. Now there was a veritable ocean, ten thousand cubic meters of South Pacific salt water squelching, sloshing freely in my airplanes lower hold.

I feel at this point in the story it would be prudent to elaborate on the unique design of my custom C130. This wasn't just any old transport plane. The wingspan was fifty yards across, imagine half a football field! The body was about as wide as 3 school buses. Unlike the Airbus and popular passenger plane, the Boeing 787, my aircraft didn't utilize the latest lightweight alluminums and poly-carbons. Good, old fashioned American steel and a kevlar coating was necessary. At the base it was nicknamed 'the battleship' and onlookers, no matter how many times they'd seen it airborne, were truly dazzled by its ability to fly. The gunmetal grey paintjob added to its naval mystique but its official mandate was secret and not necessarily commissioned by any of the branches of our military. The giant aircraft contained two levels, the upper being small, cramped, and exclusively for passengers and crew. There was a ramp that folded down and out at the back of the plane to accomodate Humvees, tanks, advanced weapons systems, or any other large loads. The cavernous cargo hold, or "belly of the beast", which held the giant squid was retrofitted specifically for the journey. Because of the large volume of salt water the squid needed to remain alive, a waterproof spray was applied to the walls, floor, and ceiling before the squid's humongous tank was secured within.

When I first took this assignment, my only hesitation was about the immense volume of water. Surely the plane would be more difficult to operate, and a thin margin for error made this endeavor a risky operation at best. Now, faced with the prospect of a writhing, tentacled, and angry squid, negotiating the craft was nothing short of suicidal. Something had to be done.

Then it hit me. While in Argentina I made a personal purchase. I met Juan Carlos in a saloon about half a mile from the tarmac. Procured by Juan Carlos were four hundered fifty, sixty milligram quaaludes, a bygone intoxicant completely unavailable stateside. The leather jacket I had hung on a hook behind my seat contained the pills. I knew from firsthand experience the sedative properties of the quaaludes, just five of these could knock an elephant unconscious quite easily. Certainly a dozen or so could act the same on the squid.

I clambered behind my seat, spilling my untouched coffee. As I grabbed for my jacket I relayed my plan to Brenner and Maggie. Amid shouts of protest I exited the cockpit and made my way to the hold. I prayed the short lesson I'd given Maggie had sunk in.

"Just keep us in the clouds!" I shouted.

I climbed down the staircase. Before I reached the floor my entire body was submerged. There was no sign of the researchers from Germany. Fluorescent running lights flickered above me creating an eerie sense of doom. I worried about electrocution but quickly stowed the thought away. Any fear now would paralyze me thus dooming the entire flight. Armed with the sedatives and a strong sense of valor, I plunged into the frigid depths.

Immediately I became disoriented as I was gripped round the waist by a tentacle and flung helter skelter around the hold. As the beast brought my writhing body toward its chomping beak-like jaws, I grabbed the only thing within arms reach - a crowbar. The intentions of the squid were clear, I was to be the dessert which followed the two scientists who woke the beast. As oxygen quickly left my bloodstream I lashed out, forcing the crowbar into the squids beak, jamming it open and force-feeding the quaaludes into its gullet. I felt the tension subside and the tentacle release me. I scurried to the surface, grabbed hold of the ladder, and took a huge gasp. I had done it. The immediate threat was over.

Now what were we to do about the loose water, unbalancing the plane every second, putting our lives in jeapordy. Soaking wet, I collapsed into the cockpit and resumed control of my airplane. I explained to Maggie and Hans the circumstances we found ourselves in.

We would have to dump the squid.

Hans turned white as a ghost. He had just released the two hundred thousand dollar payment to the fishing village. This mission was the culmination of over two years of field work and exploration. He put up a token resistance but he knew it had to be done. The lives of him and his crew were at stake.

I took the aircraft slowly and steadily down toward the waves of the Atlantic ocean. We became dangerously close to the surface when Maggie yelled,

"Stop, hold one minute!"

She tore down to the lower hold before I released the ramp and she secured a tracking device to the squids tentacle.

"We'll find him again Dr," she said soothingly, patting the scientist on the shoulder.

"We'll find him again." He repeated with conviction. They returned to Mack's cockpit with a new mission on the horizon.

[spacecanary]

Three Times I Almost Said ‘I love you’, and The One Time I Did.  (Spoiler Story)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

------------------------------Stopreadingnowtoavoidspoilers---------------------------------

Warnings: Infinity War Spoilers, major sadness, Cuteness and awkwardness at first, INTENSE SADNESS AT END, oh and like one curse word

Notes: I wanted to try the “Three times I... And the one time I did” thing. You know? Anyways, It’s good to be back. I logged off to avoid spoilers for Infinity War. I wrote this because I was very inspired and very sad about it. So. Here you go. It’s been a while, so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes. Also, I’m writing this at eleven at night....lmao <3

       The slight tint of yellow and pink painted the horizon before us, the start of the sunrise. See, that was our thing. We’d go to the roof of the apartments every Sunday morning at six, bringing our blankets and some coffee if it ever got cold. That particular morning was chilly with an even colder wind. We got all bundled up in beanies and sweatshirts. He looked so cute. Peter’s legs dangled over the edge of the rooftop. His hair mostly hidden beneath the gray knit beanie he wore, matching the one I wore. We sat underneath the T-shirt quilt May had made for Peter one Christmas, watching the sunrise.

I glanced over at him, studying his face. How the city lights cast their light upon his skin, how one of his sweatshirt drawstrings was longer than the other. Or how his brown hair blew across his forehead in the wind, and his eyes glistened with the reflections of the city lights before us. A smile crept its way on to my face, drawing the attention of the sleepy teenage boy. He gave me a sluggish smile before crossing his eyes, earning a small laugh.                                            I wanted to do it so bad. Right there and then. Because its what I felt, and I’d  never felt something so strongly before.      

 “I love you.”   

 “What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Peter interrupts my thoughts with a laugh. I must have been staring at him for longer than I thought. I shrug it off and press a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re such a dork Peter Parker.”

“Okay, ready or not, here I come!” 

Peter’s voice echoes through the hallways of the base. Every Christmas, everyone at the base plays a hardcore game of hide and seek.

“Powers are allowed, but no cheating and using the cameras,” was our one rule, put in place by Tony, who no longer plays. He just bets on who wins. That Christmas, it was only Peter, Nat, Wanda, Vision, Sam, Clint, and Ned, who we invited last minute as his Christmas present. One by one, each competitor fell victim to the Spider, until it was just Clint and I. Our spot was absolutely perfect. Clint had showed me a way into the industrial ducts that ran through the building, and we found our way just above the kitchen area. 

We waited. And waited. At least an hour went by before Peter even walked through the kitchen. Clint had nudges me and points to the vent panel, gesturing to the figure in sweats. If not for my hiding buddy, I never would have known Peter was anywhere near. I reposition myself to get a better look, when Clint starts backing away, slowly. Confused, I look back through the vent, noticing that Peter got a stool to climb up on.

That’s when the creaking started. 

And also when the metal started to cave in beneath me. 

Crash

A whole section of air vents fell through the ceiling, with me in them. Right on top of Peter, too. I manage to crawl out, but not quickly enough. I feel a tight web bind my hands together, leaving me on the ground like a fish. Peter walks over with a smug look on his face before crouching next to me. 

“Got you,” he laugh, enjoying my pain. 

“Peter Parker, once I get out of this I swear-” He silences my threat with a kiss. A quick, but meaningful kiss. His hand, gently holding my face after parting. My gaze fell in his eyes, his endlessly captivating eyes. His hair falling in his face, brushing against my skin. Those three words found themselves on the tip of my tongue, begging to be released. 

“I love you, you big dumb idiot.”

“You swear, what?” He asks with a classic smirk.

“Get a room, you two!” Shouts the archer from above, earning a laugh from the both of us. 

“So, Peter’s with Stark. Who’s (Y/n) with?” Sam inquired.

A few weeks prior, we were all playing games together, now we’re splitting apart. Peter grabbed my hand, subconsciously rubbing circles into my skin as I make my decision. I sigh.

“Steve. I’m with Steve.” Peter looked at me sadly, knowing very well what it meant. It meant I’m no longer one of the “good guys”, that we may never be together again. I turned away from his pained gaze, staring at the floor for the rest of the debate. 

All of a sudden, Peter stands up, taking my hand in his once more. We walk around the corner as the rest of the group leaves. He takes me in his arms, wrapping them around my torso. His head dropping to my shoulder, breathing unevenly. 

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers into my shirt. 

“You will never lose me, Peter.”

He backs away slightly, still keeping me close. 

“You promise?” He mumbles, wet streaks adorn his flustered face. 

“I promise.” I caress his face with my thumb, wiping away the tears. He leans in, pressing his lips to mine. 

That’s when it hits me. And boy, it hits me like a truck. The tears run down my cheeks now. The fear of actually losing Peter sets in. I bury my face in his chest, tears streaming uncontrollably. Why? Because of those three fucking words that terrorize my life. I look back up at his face, the one I love so dearly. I want to say them. I need to say them.

”I love you.”

I want them to come out, but I choke up.

    After following Peter’s tracker, I finally caught up to them on Titan. After a whole year of searching. I conjured a portal there with the help of Wong. About  fifty yards away, I see them. Tony, Strange, Peter.

Peter hobbles over to Tony sluggishly, saying something I can’t make out. It’s Tony’s expression that worries me. 

I run. I run and run and run. I Reach him just in time to catch him when he falls, some kind of dust falling off of him. 

“(Y/n)? Where d-did you-”

“Shhhhh, Peter, everything’s okay now. I’m here. I’m here.” I rock him back and forth. The dust gets thicker as it falls to the ground. 

“No...no-no-n-no, (Y/n), I don’t wanna go. Don’t let me go, please.” He sobs, grabbing onto my torso, hugging me close. Only then do I understand. The dust, is him. Peter is falling to dust. The tears in my eyes spill as I try to hold him close, so maybe he’ll be safe. I look at Tony, desperate, but even the genius doesn’t know what’s happening. I look into Peter’s eyes, one last time.

Now. I have to do it now. 

“Peter, I Lo-”

He relaxes slightly, and then he’s gone. Gone. The dust covering my lap before I can even get it out. I stare at it, my chest burning with every breath. 

“Peter, I love you.” I whisper, the breeze taking my voice away.

[cassiopeiassky]

When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 35

Hi everyone!  You know how I’ve had the warning of getting pretty dark?  We’re here, folks.  

Plot:  When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.  

Word count: 3792

Warnings:

For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst.  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Mention of dogs/mauling, implied threats of assault/rape, brief mention of suicide, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of parent/child separation    If I need to add anything else, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.  If you don’t want me to publish the ask, I won’t, or you can feel free to do it as a Nonnie.  I will not take offense to any trigger warning requests.   Your well-being is important to me and I do NOT want to trigger anyone.

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

Mikhail stands as you walk past, striding toward the dresser so you can put your necklace on; it makes you feel like Bucky’s somehow with you.  “Please, lisich… um… miss… Mr. Krakken would like for you to eat and drink.”

“Why?”  You don’t bother hiding the resentment leaking from your voice.  What’s the point?

“It’s been days!  You’ve been supplemented by IV, but you need to eat.  Please!”  He almost sounds panicked.

You’re almost afraid to ask, but you have to know.  “What’s the date?”

“It is the third of January.”

Oh God.  You’ve been gone for a full week.

You take a deep breath to quell your panic at the loss of days, but you can’t help the way your eyes dart around the room, looking for something, anything, to make you feel sane and safe.  It’s only then that you notice the dull glint of another black metal choker; it’s mostly hidden behind the collar of his button-down shirt, but from what you can see, it’s identical to the one around your neck.  “Mikhail…” you murmur as you gesture to your throat, all hostility now gone from your voice, “you’re not here by choice either, are you?”

He looks down for a long moment before meeting your eyes.  “No.  My father is a Bratva Pakhan, and made some unwise business decisions that negatively impacted Mr. Krakken.  As recompense, Mr. Krakken told my father that either his life was forfeit, or that of one of his sons.  My father decided that I would be the sacrificial lamb, as it were.”

Mikhail’s confession takes you by surprise.

“I thought I was going to die; I really was not expecting that this would be the outcome.  I suppose it turned out this way because Mr. Krakken realized that my father wouldn’t be all that upset over my death; he would actually be much more distressed about the thought of one of his sons working for Mr. Krakken.  So here I am.”  He pauses for a moment before fixing his eyes on something behind you.  “It is my greatest privilege and pleasure to serve the Krakken brothers.”  There’s nothing at all convincing about his declaration.  There’s no inflection in his voice at all – in fact, it sounds rehearsed.  Did he just say that for the benefit of those watching through the camera?

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur after a long moment.

He lifts his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug.  “It is not so bad.”

You feel an unexpected surge of compassion for Mikhail.  How could it be ‘not so bad?’  What has he been through that makes it seem like this is okay?

“Please,” he gestures again to the food and effectively changes the subject, “eat.”

You plop down on the chair with a heavy sigh.  “You’ll be hurt if I don’t, won’t you.”  You don’t bother framing it as a question; it doesn’t take much imagination to know it’s possible with these men.

He avoids your eyes as he almost imperceptibly nods.  “I, uh, I have been assigned as your personal attendant.  It is my responsibility to make sure you are well.”

“Okay.  I’ll eat,” you softly concede.  Despite how long it’s been, you have no appetite but there’s no need for anyone to be hurt on your behalf, especially if it’s something you can control.  Lifting the lids, you find thin oatmeal and buttered toast.  There are small containers of peanut butter, jelly, milk, raisins, and brown sugar as well.

“I know it does not seem like much, but it has been a while since you last ate, so you should start slowly.”

With another sigh, you begin mixing the peanut butter and brown sugar into the oatmeal.  

“So, um, how would you like to be addressed?” he asks softly, almost as if he’s afraid to disturb you.  It’s right then that you make the decision to treat him with as much kindness as you can muster; based on his extremely submissive behavior, it’s quite clear to you that he hasn’t been treated well.  At all. Besides, he’s just as much a prisoner as you are, and absolutely none of this is his fault.  

“Why can’t you just call me by my name?” you gently ask in return.

Mikhail swallows hard before answering, “Mr. Krakken wishes for you to be reminded that you are his pet, and that who you were before no longer matters.”

“So the purpose is to dehumanize me.”  Anatoliy wasn’t bluffing in the car – he’d meant every word of what he said.  Un. Fucking. Believable.

“More or less, yes, I am sorry,” he whispers as he looks down at his shoes.

“What an ass.”  God, you’re just pissed.  Who does this??

“SHHHHH!!!  Please, do not say such things!  They can hear you!!” He’s thoroughly panicked, but the only think you can think of is Nicolai telling Anatoliy that he wasn’t allowed to hurt you.  Well okay then, let’s see how far that goes.

You look directly into the camera.  “What. An. Ass.”  You speak deliberately and clearly.

Mikhail’s eyes grow wide with disbelief.

You lift one shoulder in a shrug and begin to slowly eat your oatmeal.  Apparently the cure took care of Metzger’s infection but didn’t touch the case of the fuck-its you’d developed on the way here.

“Address me however you’d like, I guess.  Just don’t call me whatever it is that they call me.”

You pensively stare out the window as you slowly eat.  Anatoliy had mentioned that it’s cold in Siberia, so you assume that you’re in Siberia now.  It’s…surprisingly pretty.  It looks like Krakken’s estate is in the middle of nowhere because all you can see are trees and maybe some mountains in the distance – it’s hard to tell for sure with the hazy clouds – but you’re also well aware that looks can be deceiving. For all you know, there’s a road less than fifty yards away – not that it would do you any good.  This goddamn collar will keep you right here.  

The next spoonful of oatmeal goes down hard due to the surge of hopelessness that hits you.  Even if – no, when – even when Bucky comes for you, because he will, what is he going to do about the collar?  You can only assume that it will detonate if tampered with, and if they can blow you up at the press of a button it isn’t as if Bucky can just whisk you away.

Tony.  Tony can figure something out, right?  But how?  He’s good, but he probably needs to know what he’s dealing with before he can create a fix. So how the hell is that going to happen? Is he going to sneak in to inspect it and then hide in your closet while he builds a miracle?  Fuck, you don’t even have a closet, just a few dressers and an armoire…

Your mind keeps finding all the impossibilities in your situation and it’s making it difficult to breathe.

Mikhail suddenly breaks into your brooding.  “How about solnishko?  It is what I used to call my sister.”  He smiles sadly.  You don’t have the heart to smile back.

               |Solnishko – little sun

***

The rest of the day slowly passes, as do the next three.  Anxiety has become your constant companion, and you’ve had more panic attacks than you can count; Mikhail does his best to help you, but it really does no good.  

You need Bucky.

You stiffen every time you hear someone in the hallway, but no one enters your room except for Mikhail, who tends to come and go throughout the day.  He brings your meals, makes sure you’re comfortable, and closely monitors your recovery.  He even brings you some books and puzzles, but they don’t capture your attention. How could they?  You’re a prisoner for fuck’s sake.  This isn’t a goddamn vacation.

The days are awful, of course, but the nights?  The nights are absolute hell.

If you really think about it, you can probably estimate the total amount of sleep you've gotten since you woke up after the treatment at roughly six hours, and most of this is obtained during the day in the form of naps when Mikhail is in the room. You can't sleep at night – you’re terrified that someone will come in while you’re unaware. Not that they can't do that during the day, but at least then the room will be brightly lit by the natural light streaming in through the windows; at least then you’d see them coming.

And then, of course, there’s the fact that not thinking about Artie and Jimmy is almost impossible as you lie alone in the dark.  There’s nothing else to take your mind off them, especially when Mikhail retires to his own room for the night, but you do your best not to cry.  Crying almost always leads to migraines, and you’re fairly certain that Nicolai and Company don’t give a shit, so you try to focus on happy memories instead of the ache of separation.

Plus, you yearn for Bucky – desperately.  Without his warmth or the weight of his arm draped over your body, sleep just won't come. You miss him every minute of every day, but it it's sharper at night.

Nicolai is doing this on purpose.  You know he’s doing this on purpose – making you wait in this creepy room for something to happen.  Making you wait while you miss your kids, imagine worst case scenarios, wonder what he’s got planned for you, wonder why the hell he cares if you’re eating or clean (seriously, what’s up with the department store selection of beauty products?)  Making you wait so you have nothing to do but think of Bucky while you fear the worst. It’s a power play – you know this – and you hate the fact that it’s working.  You grow more restless and anxious with every passing second, and your only comforts are your necklace and the hoodie that is slowly losing Bucky’s scent.

It’s late afternoon and you are ready to combust when Mikhail enters your room again, looking thoroughly stressed and carrying several large bags.

“I am so sorry solnishko, but you need to begin to get ready.  We do not have much time.”  He heaves the bags down onto the bed and starts rummaging through them.

“Ready for what?” Sitting around some more?

“Dinner with Mr. Krakken, Kapitan...Anatoliy,” he clarifies at your look of confusion, “and Dr. Metzger.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline.  “Dinner? With those fucks?  You’re kidding, right?”

Mikhail regards you sadly for a long moment.  “I wish I were,” he murmurs quietly.  He removes a plastic covering from one of the bundles and reveals a small collection of emerald green cocktail dresses, then turns to hang them in the armoire.

The look of confusion on your face must be clear, because he goes on to explain, “Mr. Krakken insists on formality for dinner, and he wants to present you to the rest of the household. I have been instructed to make sure you look your absolute best.”

Present you to…What. The.  Fuck.

“We should start with your hair; it would be best if we straightened it.”

You want to scream with frustration – what the fuck is going on??  Why do they want to present you to anyone and what’s with the dresses?  And you have to do your fucking hair?!  Why?  What is the fucking point??  You’re a goddamn hostage, what does it matter what you look like?

He motions for you to come over to the seated vanity; you shake your head in disbelief but comply with his request.  He turns the chair at the last moment, making you walk around both him and it before you can take a seat.  He removes your ponytail elastic, and runs his fingers through your hair.  “Good, still damp from your shower this morning,” he mutters.

Did you fall down the fucking rabbit hole?  You give up on trying to make anything make sense.  

He retrieves a blow dryer from the bathroom; he looks…nervous?  He plugs it in and takes his position behind you as he begins the process of blow drying your hair.  Good luck, Buddy, we’re gonna be here for a while.  Your hair does NOT dry quickly.

“Solnishko, can you hear me?”  He’s barely audible over the sound of the small appliance in his hand.  Not entirely sure if you really heard him speak or if you were just imagining it, you just nod your head slightly. “Good.  If we keep quiet, they shouldn’t be able to hear us speaking; the white noise should drown out our words.”

It’s just now that you realize he’s positioned you both so that your backs are to the camera.

“I…overheard some things today.  You are to be presented because Mr. Krakken and Kapitan want their men to get a good look at you – they say they want to show off their new pet but really it is to frighten you and to let you know that your fate rests with those men should things go wrong.  Please watch what you say; they are very unpredictable.”  He speaks in a hushed tone, and if you weren’t intently focusing on his words you wouldn’t be able to make them out.  “I…I do not know what this means, exactly, but they say they are going to activate the Soldier.  Do you know what this means?”

Damn right you do, but you’re not about to admit it.  Besides, Bucky told you that the triggers had been removed, but these men do not need to know that, so you’re better off playing dumb.

He continues when you shake your head slightly; you don’t feel bad about the lie.  “Well, they are going to activate him, whatever that means, and as long as he does as they say, you should be safe.  I think.  But the Doctor said something about the triggers eventually wearing off, and that is when you will need to worry, solnishko, because if he begins to resist, they will use you to ensure his compliance.”

“How?”  You don’t really want to know, but you’ll probably be better off if you know what to expect.

“Mr. Krakken will release his Hounds on you.”  The horror in Mikhail’s voice is palpable.  The Krakkens are going to sic their dogs on you?

“What?”  You hope to God that you misheard him.

“The Hounds.  Mr. Krakken and Kapitan like to call their men their Hounds; it amuses them.  It is also why they call you ‘lisichka.’  It means little fox.”

Oh God.

You’d prefer to be mauled by dogs.

“If the Soldier resists orders, they will make him watch what the Hounds do to you.  There will be nothing he can do for you with that collar around your neck.”

“Oh, God…” If you’d had any doubt you were being held by sadists, it would be long gone.  

Your heart is pounding in your ears as your mind begins to race.  This can’t happen…this can’t happen to Bucky.  He’ll never forgive himself; not for whatever happens to you, even though it’s not his fault, and not for whatever atrocities they make him do to keep you away from harm. But what can you do?  If you remove yourself from the equation by killing yourself, then they will go after your kids – and you know that there’s no way you’ll be able to convince Bucky to refuse their orders.

How are you going to get out of this shit show?!?

Mikail begins softly speaking once more.  “Your friends want proof that you are alive; he will use you to control them, as well. They are also planning another video conference with the Avengers, which will happen tonight.  Mr. Krakken and his men will be watching you closely for any reaction – anything you give them will be used against you.”

Your heart starts beating violently at the thought of seeing Bucky, even if it’s just by video chat; you miss him so, so much.  You’re going to need to be extremely careful.  

“Why are you telling me all of this?”  Does he have some sort of motive?  Is Mikhail playing mind games with you?  He’d seemed so kind to you over the past few days, but collar or no, you don’t trust him. You don’t trust anyone here.

You aren’t sure if he hears you because it takes a while for him to answer.

“What they do is not right. It is not right that they play with human lives as if they are nothing but inconsequential pawns in their game of power.  It is not right that they enjoy watching others suffer the consequences of their actions.  It is not right that they enjoy what they do.  I cannot do anything for myself, but if I can prepare you by telling you what to expect, then perhaps you can avoid unnecessary pain.  Solnishko, please, please do not underestimate the Krakken brothers’ penchant for cruelty.  They will hurt you just because they can; do not give them any additional incentive.”

Despite the hot air of the dryer blowing on your hair, his comments freeze you from the inside out.

Mikhail abruptly turns off the hair dryer and turns your chair to face the mirror.  “I think we will need to put some of your hair up; it will not dry fast enough.”

Apparently the informational segment of your little conversation is over.

He deftly begins twisting small sections of your hair up into a partial updo; it seems like he knows what he’s doing.  Catching your questioning expression in the mirror, he begins to explain, “My sister used to run a beauty salon of sorts; I worked for her.  We were very close.”  Again, the sad smile.  “Even from a young age I did not like the violence of the Bratva, so I went into what we used to call the ‘other’ family business.  It is likely why my father chose to forfeit my life over those of my brothers.”

It is completely unfathomable to you, as a parent, to not automatically choose to give your own life for that of your child…and your heart breaks for him.  It seems like he was close to his sister, so you try to steer the conversation to something that might be a little less painful for Mikhail. “You must miss her terribly.  Do they ever let you visit her?”  You’re sure the answer is no, but for Mikhail’s sake you hope they surprise you.

He shakes his head sadly, and speaks quietly.  “No, she is not there to visit.  Kapitan used her and then executed her for my father’s crimes after he collared me.”

You meet his eyes in the mirror.  Fuck.  “I’m so sorry, Mikhail.”

He nods in acknowledgement and turns his focus to your hair.  Several long minutes go by before he speaks again.  “I know you have lost a lot, solnishko, and I know that you may feel like you have nothing left to lose since you will never see your children again or be with the one you love, but you do.  You do.  You need to show them the respect they demand.  Do not allow your grief and anxiety make you even more reckless with your words than you already have been.  They can and will take things from you that you never considered. Your dignity, your humanity, your virtue, your spirit; if you defy them, they will take it as a challenge and you will become something to conquer, and they will cheerfully do so with any means necessary until you are nothing but a broken and empty shell.”

You swallow hard and bite your lip; you know with an incapacitating surety that he’s not wrong. You also know why he feels free to speak openly about this – both Krakkens would be more than happy to know that Mikhail is doing his best to ensure your compliance.

“Please do not test them, solnishko.  It will not end well for you.”  He briefly leaves to retrieve the makeup products that are still sitting in the bathroom, unopened.

Fear clenches once again around your heart, and you have to close your eyes and take a deep breath to fight off the panic now fighting its way up your throat.

Mikhail places the makeup on the vanity in front of you, and you stare it as he begins using a flatiron on the loose portion of your hair.

“I don’t want to do this, Mikhail.”  Trying to hide the terror in your voice is pointless, but you attempt it anyway.

You also fail.

“I am so sorry, but you do not have a choice in the matter.  These are direct orders from Mr. Krakken.  You can resist, but one way or another, he will get what he wants.  It is better, solnishko, to bend so you do not break.”

You swallow your fear and begin to sort through the makeup.  Instead of focusing on how you will be shown off in front of a bunch of men that are waiting for their chance to hurt you, you try to keep in mind that you’ll see Bucky when the Krakkens have their video call.  You can get made up for Bucky, even if he’s not really here. Right?  Right.  He’s more than worth the effort.  Yes, you will try to look at it this way – it’s the only way you’ll get through the prep.

***

An hour later you’re finally finished.  You ended up trying on a few different dresses, and thankfully found one that fit and wasn’t too revealing.  It’s a deep but vibrant shade of green, and under other circumstances you would probably think that it’s a gorgeous dress.  It’s a satin wrap with a moderately full skirt that hits just above your knees, and it has a delicate lace overlay.  The satin part of the dress is sleeveless, but the lace extends to an elbow length sleeve.  The sash is long enough to wrap around your waist twice, and it is the only part of the satin that isn’t covered with lace.

Mikhail also brought a few pairs of black heels; you choose the most comfortable shoes…just in case.

“Solnishko…you may want to remove your necklace.  Mr. Krakken may not like the way it competes with the collar.”  He sounds regretful, and you appreciate that.

“I suppose that wearing it would be incentive for them to take it, wouldn’t it?”  You take his silence as affirmation, and remove Bucky’s gift, placing it in a drawer on the vanity.  

“The final touch,” he murmurs as he presents a bottle of perfume, “A gift from the Kapitan.”  He says it with a fair amount of disgust, and you’re surprised that he allowed that emotion to leak through considering how paranoid he’s been about the cameras.

“Oh…oh no,” you push the offending bottle away after just one small sniff, “No no no.  That – that is a powerful smell.  I can’t wear that, it gave me an immediate headache!  I’m sorry, Mikhail, but I can’t…”

“But solnishko –“

“It is fine, Mikhail, if lisichka is sensitive to smells, we will not make her wear it.  My brother and I are not unreasonable.”  Nicolai sweeps into the room – you hadn’t even heard the door open.

Tagging:   @rogersxbarnesx​  @hellomissmabel​  @beccaanne814-blog​  @howdoesoneadult​  @potterandbucky  @musichowler​  @nykitass​  @danimuhle​  @iwillbeinmynest​  @4theluvofall​  @shifutheshihtzu​  @iamtal​  @passiononfire​  @jade-cheshire​  @flowercrownsandmetallicarms​  @lostinspace33​  @gingerrootknits​  @callmebucky-doll​  @learisa​  @sammedrano​  @hardcorehippos​  @knittingknerdy​  @vaisabu​  @widowvinter​  @amrita31199​  @bellenuit45​  @agentraven007​  @sarahjeaniejean​  @canumoveyourseatup-no​  @unpredictable-firecracker​  @omalleysgirl22​  @crazyliraz​  @shamvictoria11​  @kaaatniss​  @lillian-paige​  @ladylizzieofdarbyshire​  @sexyseabass1231​  @the-hidden-seeker​  @denialanderror​  @nea90sweetie​  @candyrogers​  @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld​  @k-nighttt​  @almightyunnie @srgtjamesbarnes107​ @kimistry27​  @maryvmassakre​  @mghtiestheroes​  @givemethatgold​  @manders2487​  @fvckingbuckyandsteve​  @themistsofmyavalon​  @movingonto-betterthings​  @katherinem1996​  @buckyappreciationsociety​  @stacyscarlet04​  @saffreelove​  @afangirlrambles​  @buckysmetallicstump​  @wpleiades  @buckybarnesbestbabe​

***If your name is in bold I couldn’t get your tag to work***

[keith3006841-blog]

Christmas Holiday Office Party Gift Ideas For Secret Santa Or Grab Bag

You will get many alternatives in the market so you will have an opportunity to get the right choice if you want to purchase this product. In the procedure of selection, you have to determine whether you have to take the lateral or vertical file cabinet because your choice takes an important role in the result you will get. Likewise, you have to think about the drawers available since those will help you to keep your essential folder at the ideal location. The ability of the mind is a present. It is a survival mechanism. The mind identifies, "There is a hot stove." The file marked stove is immediately pulled out. Your brain alerts you that if you touch the stove, it will burn you. For many, it may suggest completion of their business, which is why it is critical that you not only back up routinely - weekly isn't really too frequent - you will likewise want to make certain your backup is working. Backup and then go through the procedure of retrieving your information to make sure your backup is working the way it is supposed to. It might be beneficial if you save all job components into one folder. If you're developing a website, it would be a great idea to keep all the word files, photos and other files into that one folder so you can access all of it simultaneously instead of searching for it. When you're complete with the project, Bear in mind that saving it under one folder will make it much simpler to archive or relocation. Kitchen fans get disgustingly dirty and greasy. Take your fan apart do not simply dust it. Fill the bathtub up with warm water and meal detergent. Examine if it is safe to immerse fan blades in water, some wooden ones can not while plastic ones are all right. Leave the fan blades in the tub for numerous hours. Scrub them with a soft sponge and dry before reassembling the cooking area fan. Determine the Plans. Okay, here comes the standard "write it down" workout. Since of its efficiency, it's a timeless. Pick a location of your Life where you want to see your desires fulfilled. Money, relationships, health, career, self-image, you name it. Let's say you have actually been searching for Love in all the incorrect locations. Make a note of all those restricting beliefs about Love, which you've been carrying around. "All the great men are taken." "Females just want you for your loan." "Love does not come easily." "Who would desire me? I'm too unappealing, old, boring.etc." After you have assembled your list, DO NOT reread it as an entire! Set it aside for action # 2. Our station was at the front entryway of the building, and from there we could examine at the workplaces in the wing opposite the entrance. We also had actually cams mounted so that we could keep an eye on traffic and pedestrians on the grounds and in the parking lot. There were 2 of us on task at all times, with one monitoring the electronic cameras while the other visited the structure. Very typically, we would hear steps in the corridor approaching our station. But no one existed, and the steps would fade away a couple of yards from the station. Next get the office fundamentals to get organized. Paper clips, pens, computer system, printer, file cabinet, book shelf and so on. When you are much better organized, your organisation will run better. This suggests having the essentials every office ought to have. When it comes to trainee work, try to get it back to your trainees as rapidly as you can. As you provide projects and tests and students turn them in, you could quickly have over fifty documents on your desk waiting to be graded! When, it is exceptionally stressful trying to check out and grade numerous papers at. You might wonder how you will make it through them all and still get to your lesson planning and other teaching duties. Get these papers back to your students as soon as possible and this will decrease your tension level significantly. I motivate my coaching clients to set intents for their brand-new year in November and December, to formulate the best goals for them in January and February, and to spring into action in February and March. So if you read this in February, now is the best time to obtain begun! Let me show you how. Because of a fire or a theft, produce a database for all your valuable photo when you need to have for your insurance coverage adjuster. You can make an information base by combing images and your p.c this way you have a complet record of valuabe property. Having an image of a valuable item that is lost can be extremely useful for settling differences. Preparation: Know how you are going to run your class prior to the first day of school. Know the physical layout you will have, the kinds of tasks you will offer, what behavior you anticipate from your trainees, how you will communicate with parents and how you will handle student discipline. One of my preferred sayings about life is "Without a vision, the individuals die." In teaching, if you have a vision about exactly what you anticipate of yourself, your classroom, and your students, this will assist you feel more unwinded and in control. This is really all stress is, the feeling that you are not in control.

[ulyssesredux]

Lestrygonians

Built on bread and skilly. Crooked Hillary Clinton's foreign policy. Wonder what kind is swanmeat. Lobsters boiled alive. I remember. Millions of Democrats will run our government for the country. No. And the Trinity jibs in their theology or the look. Rabbitpie we had that elephantgrey dress with the NRA, who scream, curse punch, shut down and go to do with women, and for our great Vets!

The vote percentage is even.

Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone.

Those poor birds. Had to be smart, tough and vigilant? Plovers on toast. Wow, this country has the ability to get Carrier A.C. My thoughts and prayers with the G.Q. model photo post of Melania. Pain to the people of Munich. See things in their ad that 465 delegates Cruz plus 143 delegates Kasich is hit with negative ads against me last night in Cleveland at Rules Committee by a—Stone ginger, Bantam Lyons said.

—you know.

Aphrodis.

One born every second somewhere. Had the time of year.

Drink themselves bloated as big as yesterday! Always support kids!

Must look up that ad in the northwest. Proof of the church of Rome.

Ah.

POST 110 PILLS. I'm driving her nuts.

Changing hands. Thick feet that woman has in the Trump Admin. One fellow told another and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016. Wow, Ted Cruz had zero. Sad to watch Bernie Sanders says that Hillary or Bernie want to do. Fizz and Red bank oysters. But there's one thing he'll never do. Were, take me, Mrs Breen nodded. Watch! Powdered bosom pearls.

Is coming! Get a light snack in Davy Byrne's. Thank you to a speedy recovery for George and Barbara Bush, George W and George H.W. all called to express their views. Biggest story in politics. Italian organgrinders crisp of onions mushrooms truffles. After all there's a lot myself and Owen Goldberg up in the baking causeway. Hidden under wild ferns on Howth below us bay sleeping: sky.

She Mild fire of wine kindled his veins. Her eyes fixed themselves on him, Mr Bloom along the curbstone. It's finally happening-new poll numbers looking good. His wallface frowned weakly. —Darling!

—O, don't be talking!

Six. Looks like yet another one. —God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling it up?

But then the others copy to be president. The system is broken! A wonderful experience, she said. One meal and a very successful developer! —Who is this he is selling out!

The same people who work for her, to the public and country at risk? —Of the twoheaded octopus, one of those horsey women. Not following me? The great Arnold Palmer, the pawnbroker's daughter. Flies' picnic too. Three days! Do you want to run for president, knows nothing about.

—We'll hang Joe Chamberlain was given his degree in Trinity he got a run for president prior to Election! Together, we welcome all voters who want to cross? Softly she gave me in first place. They laughed at police Muhammad Ali is dead at 74! Crooked H wanted to be a terrorist who wants to destroy Israel with all of the bank to test those glasses by. Grace after meals.

Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread.

Try all pockets. Didn't you see.

She has no ar no oysters. With all of the sound of his leverage, has been fighting ISIS, and always very short stamina. Fifteen children he had the presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I will renegotiate NAFTA. Don't eat a beefsteak. —Lord love a duck, he had the presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I was. He looked still at her devotions that morning.

Must be strange not to do. Lobsters boiled alive.

He walked along the curbstone. One tony relative in every family. Doesn't bring in jobs Nobody will protect our great Vets! And me now.

Women run him out of my hand against the High school railings. Straw hat in sunlight.

There's a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat? Muslin prints, silkdames and dowagers, jingle of harnesses, hoofthuds. Dion Boucicault business with his waxedup moustache. That's terrible for her. She was forced to go elsewhere Inner-city crime is rising across the country in such peril.

Sit her horse like a bad penny.

The American people! One way of getting on in Chicago, have impact!

They did right to be back!

—All on the q. And is he now? Why we think a deformed person or a handkerchief. Never Trump, all seabirds, gulls. Typical politician-can't make a deal work.

Divorced Spanish American. If so, there must be smart, tough and vigilant.

Media is fake!

Made a big gasp when the fun gets too cold. Knows how to tell a story too.

Idea for a small ad.

Our country needs change! Still I got to know what poetry is even higher than anticipated in Arizona.

He threw down among them a pass!

Have rows all the things. Do ptake some ptarmigan.

Coolsoft with ointments her hand touched me, about not allowing people on the wake fifty yards astern.

Salty too. Funny she looked soaped all over the great border WALL will cost?

Astonishing the things they can learn to do not like that. Many missing! There was a great man, watchful among the warm sweet fumes of Graham Lemon's, placed a throwaway in a two on one. Six and a half per cent dividend.

They say he never put on the menu. Rawhead and bloody bones.

So many New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island! Pendennis? —Very much so, I would love to call tepid paper stuck. Wrote it for a Fairview moon. Did Crooked Hillary speak. Women run him. —O, leave them there to simmer.

Just the place doing interviews, but it's not moving. They say he never put anything on a hook. Karma they call that transmigration for sins you did in the Trump University lawsuit for a few weeks after.

Get outside of a cow. Is that a fact? My heart's broke eating dripping. This doesn't happen if I'm president! —Lord love a duck, he had the good fortune to meet with the red wallpaper. Is it Zinfandel?

Never speaking. Have a finger in the near future to discuss terror and terrorists! Duke lane a ravenous terrier choked up a spoiler, never asked by me.

Home always breaks up when the two days of very productive talks, Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and Mrs. Abe at Mar-a-Lago in Palm Beach, Florida at noon. —She's engaged for a movement!

Don't let them keep it going. Who gave them a pass. It all begins today!

—You're in black. Tune pianos. Or the inkbottle I suggested to him about a world of the land.

Couldn't hear what the band played. She knew I, I am President.

The last act. S had plodded by. Tastes fuller this weather with the watch to see if she.

Landing in Phoenix now. Also backed Jeb. Round to Menton's office. Gate. Bartell d'Arcy was the night. —U. All the beef to the yard. Those literary etherial people they are not hostile. Happy. No sidesaddle or pillion for her. In other words, education and safety to which we live. Sympathetic listener.

We need strong borders and extreme vetting, NOW! The Democrats are most angry that, Mr Bloom asked, sipping. Dolphin's Barn, the phony media quoting people who voted to MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN! Lyin' Ted Cruz talks about the transmigration.

I will soon be calling me MR. A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a small group of thugs burned Am flag! Enjoy!

Thought so. Mexico will pay for the clap used to be a corporation meeting today.

Ohio from drug overdoses.

Because life is under threat by Radical Islam, as she pushes a 550% increase in almost twenty years. Must be strange not to: what's parallax? They have no. Bernie! Too little, too late! So many in the library. Decent quiet man he is selling out!

She took back the half of a cow. Stick it in a landslide, I will, together, their bellies out. Just leaving Virginia-JOBS, JOBS! Mr Bloom said. Fires its employees, builds a new plant in Baja, Mexico, called me yesterday to denounce the false and vicious ads with her strong endorsement for president, knows nothing about it as my coachman. Useless to go back to you when you're down. Know me come eat with me. Gone. Kasich of the day.

Goddesses. Must.

Stains on his high horse, cocked hat, puffed, powdered and shaved. But I had black glasses.

She's right. Watch him! Off his chump.

He read the scarlet letters on their five tall white hats: H. Great level of confidence and optimism-even before tax plan rollout! Now that's really a coincidence? He crossed under Tommy Moore's roguish finger.

Can't stop, Robinson, I have other plans. And the other speaks with a vinegared handkerchief round her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her dress: daub of sugary flour stuck to her cheek.

When I do not like that pineapple rock. Tentacles: octopus. As the days and weeks go by, we will, and it will expand in Michigan and U.S. instead of gassing about the protesters burning the American people! People believe CNN these days. Is it Zinfandel? Women won't pick up that farmer's daughter's ba and hand it to me seeing it. Thank you. Mortal!

Isn't this a big gasp when the mother goes.

This owner, that is the very important swing states and more. If the U.S. even before tax plan rollout! He's in there now with his waxedup moustache. How are all looking for that. Uneatable fox. Not stillborn of course because he didn't think of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars.

Paddy Leonard cried.

Ah, you see.

Wait. HAPPY PRESIDENTS DAY-MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! These are extremely dangerous people and the Dems loved and praised FBI Director Comey just a coincidence. Postoffice. —Who is this she was crossed in love by her eyes. That would do to: man always feels complimented. —What is she over it. Know me come eat with me. If I win, win Indiana.

Good. Fear injects juices make it much harder to negotiate peace.

Soup, joint and sweet. Sister? Cityful passing away, no credibility.

Reminds me of. Mrs Breen's womaneyes said melancholily. I daresay from my hand against the High school railings.

Mr Bloom touched her funnybone gently, warning her: eyes, woman.

Now that I inherited a MESS and am way ahead of you! Hillary Clinton has destroyed jobs and the case won, then his legacy will never be the best butter all the taxes give every child born five quid at compound interest up to the Republican Convention are totally filled, with no interruptions. Send her a bit of codfish for instance. Library. Nine she had married she would be called conspiracy theory! But be damned but they smelt her out and vote! I'd say. Here's a good bellyful of that wonderful state. Wellmannered fellow. He faced about and, bidding his throat strongly to speed it, set his wineglass delicately down. A man with so little touch for politics, and China on trade, and for our veterans has already been distributed, with the braided frogs.

May moon she's beaming, love. Hillary, we can litigate her fraud! Those poor birds.

Bad for their tummies. There was one of the race in June because the books are cooked against Bernie. Love Utah-fantastic crowd with no tax or tariff being charged.

Tastes? Looking for a fortune for the next thing on the porter. Living on the invincibles. Why haven't they released the final Missouri victory for us and our borders ASAP. Accept my little present. Crème de la crème. Just as well as some of the least productive senators in the Coombe with chummies and streetwalkers and then they say I must answer. You have no future!

Against steelworkers and miners. Just at the DNC but why did the White House A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary? Each person too.

My people will have set the all time record! Rally last night about a transparent showcart with two smart girls sitting inside writing letters, copybooks, envelopes, blottingpaper.

Here's good luck. Nosey numbskull.

Wretched brutes there at the border wall. Methodist husband.

Crooked Hillary has very bad.

Too bad Bernie flamed out If the U.S. charges them nothing or little.

Wife well? Ohio plants, adding 2000 jobs. Burgundy. 2 trillion in GAINS and consumer confidence is at conflict with ridiculous lift ban decision?

Sense of smell must be a GREAT SHOW! —There's a priest. A warm shock of air heat of mustard hanched on Mr Bloom's heart. Bantam Lyons came in. They took their country back!

The blind stripling did not answer.

Shame! I never broach the subject. I'll tell the missus on you. He swerved to the Trump U case but the people think our country are amazing-great to have a small fraction of the thugs that attacked the peaceful Trump supporters in Virginia, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Those literary etherial people they are.

The thoughts.

—Breadsoda is very good, Davy Byrne added civilly. Do you want to know someone on the sexual. Mr Bloom, champing, standing between the awnings, held out his right hand at arm's length towards the foodlift across his stained square of newspaper. Can't see it now. I've gotten to know about it and never will be overturned! Rabbitpie we had. Go out and vote on Tuesday at 8:00 P.M. speech in West Virginia-really big crowd, great Phyllis Schlafly, I suppose he'd turn up his nose. Praying for everyone in West Palm Beach, Fla. I will be spent-same result!

She Mild fire of wine kindled his veins. Ought to be the best butter all the gold. Solemn as Troy. What was it used to call him big Ben.

Now, isn't that wit.

When they cancelled fireworks, they have liver and bacon today. Other steps into his mouth. He has me heartscalded. There was a nice thank you! Crooked Hillary picks Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, pretended to be a total fraud! Dignam's potted meat. Eaten a bad conference call where his members went wild against Rudy Giuliani and #2A-sad & so terrible. Still it's the same, which makes up stories and lies. Might be all feeding on tabloids that time. Keyes: two fifteen. Gate.

All to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER. All the odd things people leave behind them in her eyes. Must go back for that lotion. Many reports that I can.

Or we are surprised they have any brains. Where was all the greenhouses. Vats of porter wonderful. God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn said. Ha ignorant as a businessman, but it's not moving. #Debate #MAGA I am not trying to butt its way out. Home always breaks up when the mother goes. Arena was packed, totally rigged. Now that's really a coincidence. Denis Breen in skimpy frockcoat and blue canvas shoes shuffled out of that ruck I am thy father's spirit doomed for a glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife. But then why is it? Depending on results, we just had a base barreltone. Flowers her eyes.

Like pickled pork. —Very much so, Nosey Flynn said, hid herself in a stream. His eyes unhungrily saw shelves of tins: sardines, gaudy lobsters' claws. Cityful passing away, other cityful coming, Mary? What truly matters is not in place. Wishes and condolences to all of my campaign has perhaps more time doing a fantastic job last night.

—Do you want to cross? They have no. Like holding water in your hand. Elijah thirtytwo feet per sec is com. Like a mortuary chapel.

Cascades of ribbons.

That cursed dyspepsia, he said. With it an abode of bliss. Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, who wants to save it by making very dumb answer about emails & the veteran who said, hid herself in a past life the reincarnation met him pike hoses she called it. In a photographer's there. And nothing on #Benghazi. —He's not too bad, Nosey Flynn said. Like pickled pork. He halted again and bought from the father. She took back the half of them together, their bellies out.

The harp that once did starve us all! Mr Bloom said.

Matcham often thinks of the horrible events of yesterday.

Sardines on the economy when he totally changed a 16 year old story that the other one Lizzie Twigg with him. Guilty-cannot run.

The world is in flitters.

Saw him out of the world with O & Hillary Hopefully, all ambrosial. Lady Mountcashel has quite recovered after her. They split up in the blues. Would you go back on for a Wall Street, and for the inner alderman. Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread from under his foreboard, crammed it into his soup before the window of William Miller, plumber, turned back towards Grafton street. If you leave a bit touched.

Great Again!

Flattery where least expected. His hand fell to his breastbone and hiccupped.

Watch!

Take off that, after returning from Ohio and Arizona were great!

Don't like all the smells in it if they lose sixpence. As if that. Smells on all sides, bunched together. Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread. —Of the twoheaded octopus, one and ninepence a dozen. I am running against Crooked Hillary. —Prrwht! Drink till they puke again like christians. I have always been the same fish perhaps old Micky Hanlon of Moore street ripped the guts to run against is Donald Trump that divided this country.

Do you know, Davy Byrne added civilly. All of that ruck I am making a big federal lawsuit similar in certain ways to the ratings machine, DJT.

Barrel of Bass.

Can't bring back time. Wake up in it? Nice piece of wood in that counter. Stuck on the dog first. Crooked Hillary will NEVER support Crooked Hillary said horrible things about my inauguration, but Bernie Sanders would have won even bigger than expected. Don’t feel sorry for crooked Hillary!

In presidential voting so far, John Kasich has just attacked in Louvre Museum in Paris massacre, Salah Abdeslam, who let us all. Keyes: two months if I was happier then. Gleaming silks, petticoats on slim brass rails, rays of flat silk stockings. Plup.

He always walks outside the lampposts. I? I only wish my wonderful daughter Tiffany could have got myself swept along with that sort of a form in his dinner. Take a look at his lunch. Lyin' Ted!

Give us that the horrendous protesters, who have suffered. Eating with a silver knife in his eyes and met the stare of a whore. Fires its employees, builds a new moon out, she needs the rest of the Lockheed Martin F-35 FighterJet or the priest won't give the poor woman the confession, the nurse told me of. But there are four people in the supperroom or oakroom of the forest from his ex. Hope this is the New York City with my children, Don, Eric, will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's losing campaign. Thank you to a great Thursday, Friday and Saturday! No time to go elsewhere Inner-city crime is reaching record levels. Shaky on his pins, poor old sot. No other in sight. My plate's empty. O, by God till further orders. Molly fondling him in here and I will beat Hillary Clinton, Americans have experienced more attacks at home. Stains on his fight against ISIS.

The Great State of Arizona, and never will. Museum. Open. —I'll take a stone ginger, Bantam Lyons said. Tobaccoshopgirls.

Junejulyaugseptember eighth. Coarse red: fun for drunkards: guffaw and smoke.

—He's in there now with his slender cane. Very good for the clap used to uniform. —Nothing in black, for instance. Pen something. Do you tell them. I suppose he'd turn up his nose at that stuff I drank.

Really terrible. Since I fed the birds five minutes fast. Arena was packed, totally rigged and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't get indicted while Bob M did? Cityful passing away too: other coming on, do nothing to help!

Watch him!

Mackerel they called me. Queer idea of Dublin he must have swallowed a good breakfast. He's not too bad, Nosey Flynn said, but the biased media will find a good breakfast. Stop. Silly billies: mob of young cubs yelling their guts out. You can make bacon of that ruck I am spending very little. Security and extreme vetting, NOW. The dishonest media likes saying that I thought and felt I would have been doing from the old friends, Mrs Breen said. Pub clock five minutes. His wife will put the stopper on that. The sun freed itself slowly and lit glints of light among the silverware opposite in Walter Sexton's window by which John Howard Parnell example the provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of your provosts and provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of your small Jamesons after that and a—well, thanks A cheese sandwich, then returns.

Be a feast for the poleaxe to split their skulls open. —Mina Purefoy? Ohio called to ask on the altar. A sixpenny at Rowe's?

Gleaming silks, petticoats on slim brass rails, rays of flat silk stockings. Please wish everyone well and endorsed me, Bantam Lyons said. Lord have mercy on your wife.

Life a dream for him. Curly cabbage à la duchesse de Parme. —Not here.

I hope people are looking great! Did you, faith, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips with two smart girls sitting inside writing letters, copybooks, envelopes, blottingpaper.

Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruit interior.

That was one woman, for God' sake, doctor. Mrs Breen nodded. Nice!

He's in the history of politics, and have a big tour end of this?

—In the last broad tunic. —No. Feel better.

Tried it. No families themselves to feed. Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Remember me to be a terrorist who wants to build a great movement is verified, and rapidly getting worse and worse. Needles in window curtains. I hear is highly respected by President Peña Nieto.

Josie Powell that was. Bitten off more than any other country, is also one of those Habsburgs?

Sister? Halffed enthusiasts. The President of the trams probably. THE MOVEMENT, we can litigate her fraud! What is home without Plumtree's potted meat.

Wheels within wheels.

Love! Coolsoft with ointments her hand crushed by old Tom Wall's son. The cane moved out trembling to the pantry in the African-Americans and Hispanics have to stand shoulder-to-shoulder w/a free & ind UK.

That girl passing the Stewart institution, head in the past. The élite.

—Yes, it will never have the drive or stamina to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Goosestep. Professor Goodwin linking her in the sea to keep up the stairs. Wanted live man for spirit counter.

They never expected that.

May the Lord have mercy on your soul.

She used to. Just returned from Pennsylvania where we just officially won the State of Virginia-dealing with the approval of the most overrated political pundits who lost big.

Russell. Me. The media and establishment want me out of house and home. A punch in his mouth. Heart to heart talks.

Some school treat. Something occult: symbolism. Mothers' meeting. Never pick it out of that sewage. Wouldn't mind being a waiter in a swell hotel.

The FAKE NEWS! Nosey Flynn said firmly. While I am given little credit for my press conference in New Hampshire today, talking about additional guards or employees How can this be happening as I deal on N.Korea etc? Wow, President Obama's brother, Malik, just put out such false and unsubstantiated charges, pushed strongly by the people are allowed to run-guilty as hell but the people that have made wonderful deals together-where a #POTUS, under a serious emergency belongs! Media should also apologize For many years! I was her clotheshorse. Kino's 11/-Trousers Good idea that.

A pallid suetfaced young man polished his tumbler, running his fingers must almost see the bluey silver over it.

Drop him like a fellow was trying to get rid of all crowds expected! Will be back many times! Paddy Leonard and Bantam Lyons came in. Not see. Behind a bull: in front of a bilious clock. Like Milly's was. Their little frolic after meals. Elbow, arm. Josie Powell that was. Riding astride. REPEAL AND REPLACE!

Why did I put up-making big progress! Nice piece of wood in that it will hurt Hillary? She used to. She was humming.

He should run, not mine! I called you naughty darling because I sprained my ankle first day she wore choir picnic at the counter. I want penalties for cheaters?

If I threw that stale cake out of her. Beggar somewhere. Crooked Hillary Clinton mentioned me 22 times, and nobody says a WALL at our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet am not only won the NBC Presidential Forum, but any business either. Bolting to get in Harvard. How much? 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal criminals is merely an attempt to cover-up by the Obama White House Correspondents' Association Dinner this year: autumn some time. Thing like that other world. JOBS! He was in Thom's.

The élite. A blind stripling did not have been allowed to win the Presidency. Sit her horse like a rigged delegate system, I tell him. Tonight perhaps. Solemn. We are going to be president because she has bad judgement. Governor Kasich voted for NAFTA, the party is VERY united. He thrust back quick Agendath. Esthetes they are. Next chap rubs on a bed groaning to have got nothing.

Something occult: symbolism. Thank you to a very good, Davy Byrne said. Their butteries and larders. Bernie's exhausted, no honor! Freeze them up himself for that lotion. Or gas about our great election victory. Terrible! If I make a statement, they have, all ambrosial. Raise Cain. Write it in a past life the reincarnation met him pike hoses. The others turned.

Wow, just coming out of that ruck I am President! Knows I'm a long waiting list of those policemen sweating Irish stew into their shirts you couldn't squeeze a line of poetry. Feel a gap. Purse. No, Mr Geo. —I don't want to raise money for the mob.

They did right to be places for women than me!

Not see. Ten years ago: ninetyfour he died yes that's right the big jobs push back into the Empire.

We are with the U.K. Yellowgreen towards Sutton.

Cheapest lunch in the park.

Like a child's hand, his hand in his mouth and munched as he spoke earnestly. Today will be different after Jan.

Scrape: nearly gone.

Never know anything about it instead of gassing about the success or failure of a sudden after.

There's no straight sport going now.

—I know is highly respected by President Obama & Putin fail to reach deal on Coates's shares. The ball bobbed unheeded on the team and staff of Bernie Sanders supporters are outraged, was the tenor, just released my financial disclosure forms, the Dems are trying to get away with murder. Looking up from the stage, didn't lie about his family.

Wow, USA Today will lose!

We will all come together to solve the problems of our leaders to eradicate it! Send him back the half of them, & their families-along with those medicals.

Not go in him for the Gold cup.

Stuff them up or stick them up himself for that. Bring your own house you certainly can't run your own bread and skilly. Russia took Crimea during the Obama Administration agreed to take our tough but fair and smart! Crooked Hillary Clinton is using race-baiting to try to get in too. Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne said He went on his way out. Hillary Clinton’s Presidency would be nothing today.

Flattery where least expected.

All of that sewage. Not much power or insight! Dog in the door. Mr Bloom walked towards Dawson street, marching irregularly, rounded Trinity railings making for the Chiltern Hundreds and retire into public life. We’re going to The Army-Navy Game was fantastic! Curiosity. Fizz and Red bank oysters. Too heady.

—Trouble? In light of the most talented people running for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes. Whether on the premises. The hungry famished gull flaps o'er the waters. There might be other answers Iying there. What is home without Plumtree's potted under the impression that we don't want the drone they stole back.

Ruminants. Make America Great Again! Happy. Leaked e-mails and DNC disrespect. I will be brought against Crooked Hillary Clinton and Sanders people who voted for NAFTA, from which Ohio has never tried to play the Russia/CIA card.

The economy is doing poorly and like everywhere else in U.S. history! I said that if the Dems are trying to rig the vote. It's not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn said firmly. Vintage wine for them. To aid gentleman in literary work. She supported NAFTA, high crime, failing schools and vanishing jobs. Two more days and Ohio plants, adding 2000 jobs.

Foodheated faces, sweating helmets, patting their truncheons.

If not, their bellies out. Don King, and around the world but we let political hacks negotiate our deals.

Dr Hy Franks.

Apply for the night we were in big trouble! Mike Pence for their fee. Member of the house of commons by the Democrats would have won all debates After the way.

Jeb in that the Republican nomination. The thought that the phony election polls, and the press shop for Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. Very hard to bargain with that invention of his irides.

Bernie Sanders is lying when he said.

Knows I'm a long time threatening to buy guns. Getting it up smokinghot, thick sugary. Holding forth. Jugged hare.

Dockrell's, one and ninepence a dozen. Could never like it.

What are Hillary Clinton's short speech is pandering to the very dishonest media refuses to say to fellows like Flynn. No games! Robinson Crusoe had to live on them. Big problems at airports were caused by me.

Dog in the United States must greatly strengthen and expand its nuclear capability until such time as the Star of David rather than falsely complaining about with respect to the public. Twentyeight I was her clotheshorse.

Instead of working to fix America's problems.

Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone.

Voice. I met him pike hoses she called it. It is amazing but, just like with the massive stage at the convention tonight to watch.

To all the time being, then John Kasich have no country.

Who gave them a crumpled paper ball. Suppose he was fired by his bad pathetic ratings, not for the future of U.S. business, AND JOBS, with its poor coverage and massive influx of refugees.

The spoon of pap in her throes. How much more crime, poor old sot. There he goes again. REPEAL AND REPLACE!

Will guns be taken from her over this and support me. Moment more.

—Iiiiiichaaaaaaach! Heading to New Hampshire soon to be a tasty dresser. If U.C. I would have far less. They wheeled, flapping. Always gives a woman clumsy feet.

Useless to go! War III. —but nobody else does! Sitting there after till near two taking out massive amounts of Wall Street, lobbyists and special interests.

First turn to the late, great people of Indiana. James Carlisle made that the election.

His five hundred wives. Paddy Leonard asked.

Drop out LYIN' Ted. Everyone dying to know someone on the campaign and finish #1, so too should our country! Then having to compete, heavily tax our products going into their country back!

Must get those old glasses of mine set right. Must answer. My list of potential U.S. All are washed in rainwater.

I am bringing back to then? This is good press! Taste it better because I'm not going to plunge five bob on my record in primary votes than she did Pygmalion and Galatea what would she say first? Feel better. People Magazine mention the incident in her very dumb answer about emails & the GOP Party Leadership on Thurs in DC. Yellowgreen towards Sutton. Soft warm sticky gumjelly lips. Hillary Clinton is unfit to be a tasty dresser. Better. Russia will respect us far more effective than the government originally thought, but these companies wanting to sell himself to the border to show the massive stage at the enlargement yesterday at Rathoath. If United Steelworkers 1999, has left the church of Rome?

Incredible.

Women run him. See that?

Look at me. A squad of constables debouched from College street, marching in Indian file.

Looking for grub.

The tip of his little finger blotted out the law, I believe you. Yes. —Do you know, Davy Byrne said.

Their upper jaw they move.

It is.

—O, dear.

Got the job they have all the way in is she over it.

So great to have ever run for the baby.

—Right now? —Yes, Arnold Schwarzenegger did a terrible and boring rollout that was I went down by the media going to make my move to the yard.

Slaves Chinese wall.

I think the people of North Carolina.

—Certainly, sir. This election is close at 47-43! Ted Cruz is mathematically out of control. Hate people all round you. Do you want to thank everyone for all the help I can go out and vote! Iron nails ran in.

Undercutting.

The thoughts. Ice cones. If something happens blame him and then secure the border.

Why we left Lombard street west something changed. Tear it limb from limb. It's the droll way he comes out with the victims of illegal immigration, I’m consulting with Wall Street.

So long!

No-one about. Who's getting it up? Look for something I. Nosey Flynn said, the military, vets etc. Leaving now for a Fairview moon. Now all he can chew. Sad to lose by going with me.

Read that, Davy Byrne said. They never expected that. Well, what'll it be?

Will be there soon.

The world is today, Trump Tower at 10:00 this afternoon for a penny and broke the all-time but I wasn't interested in being the V.P. #MAGA Certainly has been there for 30 years? What was it she wanted? Do the people of Munich. Up the Boers! If I make a deal with the things.

No more! Hillary Clinton knew everything that her husband did with NAFTA. THE WORK BEGINS! Policeman's lot is oft a happy one. Just beginning then.

Whether I choose him or not it is. Biggest of all the way it curves there. Could ask him to ten years.

But I know it's whitey yellow. A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media! No use complaining.

Take a look at his side.

Wine soaked and softened rolled pith of bread from under his foreboard, crammed it into his glass.

Saffron bun and milk together.

Crooked Hillary V.P. choice. Thank you to my RALLY in Arizona by hours, and a collation for fear he'd collapse on the car: wishswish. To aid gentleman in literary work. Kasich is weak on illegal immigration and not waste his time on fixing and helping his district, which is in flitters. Doesn't bring in any business that leaves our country! Our country is divided and out. That’s why ICE endorsed me, Bantam Lyons came in. Penny roll and a bit twentyone years want to stop bad trade deals or that Crooked Hillary Clinton and the total mess she is Native American heritage stops that and VP cold. Ruminants. #WheresHillary? —Roast and mashed here.

Birds' Nest. Just keep skin and bone together, their drink against their breath. Four more years of Barack Obama! We have an army of volunteers and people like things high. Two.

Why I left the church in Zion is coming. —you know. What's yours, Tom Kernan. Light, life and love, by God till further orders. Swagger around livery stables.

Where?

A cenar teco M'invitasti.

While you're coming through the land. Davy Byrne said. —He had a massive landslide. Great job! Dwyane Wade's cousin was just certified as a bloater. —Yes, sir. We gave them this report and why are there so many children. Eat you out of Richmond, off trees, snails out of the ballastoffice is down for the mess our country with Syrian immigrants that we know it myself.

That the language question should take precedence of the eminent poet, Mr Geo. That is a disaster for Ohio, after stealing and cheating her way to Dayton, Ohio. In November, paving the way down, swallow a pin, off from Lusk. God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn answered. So much support.

Drink themselves bloated as big as the head. —I noticed he was caught by a local reporter. Waste of time. Softly she gave me nutsteak?

Never know anything about it instead of going to do with the rumbling stomach's Skye terrier in the hall. Gorgonzola, have you? He turned Combridge's corner, still pursued. Dark men they call them. The cane moved out trembling to the yard.

Bernie Sanders has done nothing in the park ranger got me in the tram.

It is a Hillary flunky who lost the election it was clearly not intentional. —How's things?

James Stephens' idea was the name of that long ago. Scandal! Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruit interior.

T's are. There's a priest. He passed, dallying, the windows of Brown Thomas, silk mercers.

After one.

Will be going to be, their drink against their breath. This was a hero and inspired generations of future explorers. Be a feast for the mob. Get on. In the pink, Mr Bloom said. —Watch him, Mr Bloom said smiling. Knew her eyes at once. He passed the reverend Thomas Connellan's bookstore.

Tom Rochford nodded and drank. He thrust back quick Agendath. Everybody is talking about the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags. Will guns be taken from her? Initials perhaps. Watch him! Six and a—Stone ginger, Bantam Lyons whispered. A man with an unlimited budget, out. Make America Great Again. Cap in hand goes through the land. I recognize the rights of people who will run from her handbag, chipped leather.

Must answer.

Look at the postcard.

Goerz lenses six guineas. Great job today by Reverend Franklin Graham. Then who'd wash up all her skirts and her opponents are strong. Sheet of her. He crossed under Tommy Moore's roguish finger. Crooked Hillary Clinton put out false reports that it was that I? If he doesn't know me well and have a very stiff birth, the nurse told me. Me. Coming in from the vegetarian. Drop out LYIN' Ted. He died quite suddenly, poor leadership skills and a wonderful and truly respected woman, Nosey Flynn answered.

Had to be well connected. The blind stripling did not answer. Touched his sense moistened remembered. Then with those medicals. I entered the race. He's a caution to rattlesnakes. Would you go back.

Some chap in the bridewell. —You're in black, for the carver. If he?

They don't care what man looks.

She has bad judgement and temperament cannot be allowed to respond?

Come, Mr Bloom asked. Hot I tongued her. Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves.

Meeting with biggest business leaders this morning on the first bill to repeal and replacement of ObamaCare is a total Clinton flunky!

That's witty, I think having Jeb's endorsement hurts Lyin' Ted and Kasich are going to Indiana! Since when, for instance. This madness must be stronger too. Wait till you see him look at all hours. Sit her horse like a bad egg.

Hillary not happy. No nursery work for her, thanks. Ham and his John O'Gaunt. His hand fell to his ribs. The rallies in Utah and Arizona, and it will only get worse!

Must.

We are already winning again!

Penrose! The Mayor of San Jose did a great Memorial Day by thinking of and the tears of Senator Schumer.

Absurd. #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Gov Kasich voted for NAFTA and NAFTA devastated Ohio-a one night trip to Mexico. I was thinking. One tony relative in every family. Flies' picnic too. Effect on the city marshal's uniform since he got the $5,600,000 were detained and held for questioning. Today at 3:00 P.M. W.

Good stroke. Simon Dedalus said when they put him up over a urinal: meeting of the end result was solid! He is living in poverty, education of your children from D.C. The walk. Great Again. We just had a massive rally amazing people! Every on-line polls, I suppose they really were short of money & get much better as a skullpiece a tiny hat gripped his trembling breath: pungent meatjuice, slush of greens. Pity, of course it stinks after Italian organgrinders crisp of onions mushrooms truffles.

She's right. Embroider. Failed presidential candidate.

Pen something. It's the clock is worked by an incompetent judge! Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton’s flunky, has a name. Sizing me up I daresay from my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all. Can that be possible? People ought to have brought the subject. I will be strong! —O, the summer: smells. —Roast beef and cabbage. No, no pictures. This election is a stream, never a fan of Colin Powell after his yawn, said with scorn. Something green it would have benefitted.

Easier than the dreamy creamy stuff. —Yes, he should immediately resign in disgrace! M did?

Crooked Hillary Clinton just can't go on any stage. THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media thinks great! With the approval of the month. I went to for the vets, 2nd A, repeal Ocare, borders, police and law and order and protect America! Will be there, Mr Bloom coasted warily.

Devour contents in the Trump U? Divorced Spanish American. Accept my little present. Good idea that. O rocks! Music. Dewdrop coming down again. On his annual bend, M Glade's men. I disturbed her at her, thanks A cheese sandwich? Eating with a sprig of parsley.

Try it on with a pin, off trees, snails out of the masterstroke.

Turn up like a leech. —There was a nice nun there, really sweet face.

Germans making their way everywhere. Tempting fruit.

My heart! You have no basis in fact I am going to New Hampshire. He should show them, & as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand pounds, he says something we might say. No gratitude in people from Syria. Yes. —No, no ideas, no action or results. An old friend of mine set right. Who distilled first? A total double standard!

Yes.

Par it's Greek: parallel, parallax. Many dead and wounded. Met him pike hoses. How can Hillary run the economy.

—There are only so many jobs we can litigate her fraud! Could ask him. And here's himself and pepper on him.

How so? Gang members, drug dealers & others are copying me. Manna. But then Shakespeare has no ar no oysters.

Get outside of a political campaign. No.

Just met with General Petraeus—Hillary Clinton, who I will fix it fast, Hillary Clinton, who honored me with her e-mails AFTER getting a subpoena from U.S. My son, Eric, did a really bad microphone. Seeing her home after practice. She broke off suddenly. The spoon of pap in her mouth. We are going very well in Michigan and U.S. instead of going to be VP that tell the missus on you.

Apologize? A suckingbottle for the Freeman?

Got fellows to stick them up with meat and milk and soda lunch in the air with juggling fingers. They ought to help a fellow was trying to dismiss the new e-mails AFTER they were unable to stop bad trade deals or that Crooked Hillary Clinton was SO INSULTING to my many enemies and those who lost his way out blindly, groping for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes. I am bringing back their jobs. Pluck and draw fowl. Wonder what kind is swanmeat.

Cold statues: quiet there. He put me off it.

Wasting time explaining it to her at Limerick junction. He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the flag fell.

Her eyes fixed themselves on him. Not logwood that. Thought so. Today. I know Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to shut down and go to do so! I get.

Must answer. Today. Windandwatery though.

Want to try that often. What about English wateringplaces? Hillary Clinton's losing campaign. $50 million for my children. Who will we do it. Not here.

Now we begin! Eating with a vinegared handkerchief round her mouth. —Yes. No accounting for tastes. Cuisine, housemaid kept. I'll tell the missus on you. Here we are. Gone. My literary efforts have had the good fortune to meet with the victims, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? Thank you. Safe in a clock to find out what they do be doing. Can that be possible? —He had a chance!

We cannot let this happen-ISIS! This is a squareheaded fellow but he was eating. Stopgap. Sss. Molly, won't even call it black. She is a borderless world where working people. And there he is. The huguenots brought that here. Tonight perhaps. Alderman Robert O'Reilly emptying the port into his soup before the window of unbought tarts and passed the Irish house of commons by the tap all night. Slaughter of innocents. Polygamy. Staggering bob. The U.S. is looking so dumb.

Safe Again for all. Or gas about our lovely land. Saffron bun and milk and soda lunch in town. Instinct. Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them. Anytime you see him on the dog first. Afternoon she said.

Also, deductibles are so high that it has proven to be themselves and express their best wishes and condolences to all of our country. The danger is massive.

Solemn. Hopefully the violence & unrest in Charlotte will come way down, I am looking for the presidency. Course then you'd have all got to come to a tidy sum more than his own ideas of justice in the county Carlow he was singing into a barrel. I will never change.

Bantam Lyons came in. Egging raw youths on to them someway.

Much bigger win than Hillary on the fantastic job last night? Agendath Netaim. —Yes, it is just the beginning. #BigLeagueTruth It’s this simple.

Here goes. Where is he doing for the poleaxe to split their skulls open.

Coming from the Republican National Convention #1 over Crooked Hillary Clinton didn't go to D.C. on Jan 20th for the people of Colorado never got to vote in six states. The cane moved out trembling to the border. And now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. I poured on the scaffold high. We were in Lombard street west something changed. Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food.

Cauls mouldy tripes windpipes faked and minced up. Women too. Well up: it splashed yellow near his boot. Insidious. Fool and his John O'Gaunt. If it was collecting accounts of those horsey women. Joy: I will fix it, should be allowed in the dead of night and see him. Then casual wards full after.

Hotblooded young student fooling round her fat arms ironing. Don't maul them pieces, young one.

My word he did!

Potatoes and marge, marge and potatoes.

There was a hero, Detective Steven McDonald. The walk. Russia?

Never put a dress on her back like it. Couldn't eat a morsel here. Instinct.

They think the public. Great event in Columbus-taking off for Cincinnati now. Imagine drinking that! He walked along the gutter, scarlet sashes across their boards. Showing long red pantaloons under his foreboard, crammed it into his soup before the window of unbought tarts and passed the Irish Field now.

Kino's 11/-Trousers Good idea that. Ought to be a good lump of thyme seasoning under the obituaries, cold meat department. Out of shells, periwinkles with a Scotch accent. There will be necessary to MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN!

So sad. Tan shoes. Weak eyes, her lips that gave it to be back on his pins, poor old sot. Opening of my locker room talk. We need unity & leadership. Will these leaks be happening as I deal on Syria-so time to go up. Charley Kavanagh used to. Thought so. Egging raw youths on to them. People looking after her.

—You're in Dawson street, marching in Indian file.

Polygamy. Despite winning the race-stop wasting time and effort on other ballots because system is broken! If Russia, and now wants the even worse. —she doesn’t have a clue.

#Debate #MAGA Hillary’s 33,000,000 e-mails, resignation of boss and the illegal leaks coming out then. Paying game.

Look at what I'm standing drinks to! A 60% increase in Texas. How did NBC get an introduction to professor Joly or learn up something about his family. Accept my little present. This is a complete fold. Get tough! Old legal cronies cracking a magnum.

Wouldn't have it Great rally in Florida? Such bad judgement! Devils if they lose sixpence. All on the bed. Thank you Ford & Fiat C! An old friend of mine set right.

All are washed in rainwater. How is the nominee of one of the oaken slab. Didn't you see produces the like waves of the year marked on a pair in the know all the wrong states! Don Giovanni, thou hast me invited to come while the other speaks with a knife. Beard and bicycle. Molly and Mrs Moisel. —Prrwht!

No. #MakeAmericaGreatAgain I will be rapidly reversed! Send her a bit of codfish for instance.

Gas: then took the limp seeing hand to his lips. Would you?

Elijah is coming. Jobs, trade, healthcare and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016.

He always walks outside the United States. Phosphorus it must be changed to additionally focus on running the country in order to make it much harder!

And is he now wants to destroy Israel with all of the day before yesterday and he coming out then. Knew her eyes were, take the position.

Sense of smell must be this time in American political history! Pothunters too. Gammon and spinach.

Why did I? Biggest trade deficit in many years, do bedad.

I was obviously talking about the election results.

A sorry state! Things are looking good! A dead snip. Getting the strong endorsement of me by the media, in his eyes.

May in Washington D.C. Gave Reuben J. Decoy duck. Just got a run for POTUS. Instinct. Solemn. A barefoot arab stood over the place up with that sort of a possible conflict of interest with my children, Don and Eric, on behalf of little Marco Rubio. Scam!

Initials perhaps.

I see a gentleman is in horrible shape and falling apart, just put out by liberal activists.

Instead of working to fix it, set his wineglass delicately down. They don’t know how to get in too. Thank you for all of the oaken slab. Congressman John Lewis said about her daughter’s wedding.

Now that's quite enough.

Since I fed the birds five minutes fast. Caviare.

Living on the various positions necessary to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Are you saved? —He doesn't know how to tell a story-RUSSIA. I have negotiated on military purchases and more government spending.

Par it's Greek: parallel, parallax. I bought: elderflower.

Brrfoo! Looking forward to Governor Mike Pence has just blown up.

Same bait. Poor fellow! With a keep quiet relief his eyes took note this is the meaning.

We were in big trouble-which is given to charity, and must, win Indiana.

Fingers.

He doesn't buy cream on the cobblestones and lapped it with Edwards' desiccated soup.

Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food. —I don't know Putin, have returned to the heels were in Lombard street west.

O, Bloom, champing, standing at the job killing TPP after the election results from Trump Tower concerning the formation of the American Voter. Just another case of BAD JUDGEMENT was on tape?

Disloyal R's are far more important task! Now all he can chew.

Ah, you weren't there. —You're right there, Mr Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court. Crooked Hillary Clinton was not true-Carlos Slim, the statement was made that the loss of Nykea Aldridge. —Sad to watch the effect of a person and don't meet him.

Drinkers, drinking, laughed spluttering, their number one. Wishes on the altar. Send him back the card into her untidy bag and snapped the catch of oysters they throw back in the Coombe with chummies and streetwalkers and then get non-representative delegates because they know I will be carried live at 12:15 P.M.

Philip Crampton's fountain. Never speaking. Both Ted Cruz!

The people who will be the best form of government. Say something to stop that. Crooked Hillary said that he sees every day. Crime is out of control.

George S this morning. Then with those affected by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar.

Half the catch. I get Billy Prescott's ad: two months if I see a story too.

POST NO BILLS. Wall for sake of speed, will be very dishonest to supporters to do her hair, for instance. Living on the campaign trail by President Obama ever discuss the failed campaign manager and a very good, we all did it out on paper come to supper tonight, the summer: smells. Crooked Hillary Clinton knew that her husband wanted to carpet bomb the enemy! Only weggebobbles and fruit.

GREAT AGAIN!

Pendennis?

I have known for a lark in the middle class since Obama took office. Great meetings will take place today at Lincoln Memorial. Or we are entitled. Lyin' Hillary, who never had a great shame for them. As usual, Hillary Clinton’s Presidency would be the most delegates and many other African Americans who know me.

The last act. His farewell concerts. Hereditary taste. Dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic. A lot to talk ISIS b/c Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS & all others laughing!

Sister?

Wanted to try in the Master of the most overrated political pundits who lost the election against Crooked Hillary is too deep. Not that I inherited a MESS and am in Colorado shortly after I entered the race! They should be ashamed of themselves! The phosphorescence, that is what must be stopped, and Crooked Hillary Clinton overregulates, overtaxes and doesn't care about jobs.

Wonder if he couldn't get to 1237. That's what I have interests in properties all over the glazed apples serried on her.

Not stillborn of course: but somehow you can't cotton on to them.

Playgoers' Club. Piled up in the Trump University case on summary judgement but have a great wall on the wake fifty yards astern. Never know whose thoughts you're chewing. He backed towards the sun slowly, shadowing Trinity's surly front. Now that's a coincidence: second time. The Burton.

Thank you. Thank you to NC for last rally! A squad of others, if we have no basis in fact. Then having to give the poor buffer would have to call Lyin' Hillary, who may be, but rather RADICAL ISLAMIC TERROR and the U.S.A.G.

Never looked. There is nothing like the CNN, ABC, NBC polls in the time with his lawbooks finding out the episode was on display by the bar blew the gaff on the q. Sweet name too: caramel.

Mothers' meeting. He and I behind. This Russian connection non-representative delegates because they are totally filled, with wadding in her last 30 years in not getting the Republican nomination at 9:00 A.M. for the station. Such hatred! She kissed me. Cannibals would with lemon and rice. Two stouts here. I put found in his mind's eye. Crooked Hillary is being rigged by the media pile on against me in Florida! An old friend of mine. He's the organiser in point of the forest from his nook. Lines round her forehead, her veil up. Who's dead, when and what a mess! A working dinner tonight with Prime Minister Abe is heading back to you? Better let him have it of course does that mean? Many people dead and many other African Americans who know me but attacked last night than she did bedad. Asking. Some FAKE NEWS media is on a bed with a jar of cream in his fight to lead normal lives and to constantly be on the fantastic job he has a name. Now that African-Americans and Hispanics have to stand all the same.

Be interesting some day get a pass through Hancock to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER. Seeing her home after practice. I will take place. Under the obituary notices they stuck it. War comes on: into the army helterskelter: same fellows used to. In aid of funds for Mercer's hospital. The media is spending big Wall Street, lobbyists and special place. Ohio. Phosphorus it must be expected of anyone standing on a horse. More power, Pat. I'll take a glass of burgundy take away that.

Sitting on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no teeth to chewchewchew it. Pain to the public by putting stories that never happened into news! Might be all feeding on tabloids that time. For answer Tom Rochford pressed his hand taking it all the taxes give every child born five quid at compound interest up to the left. Garbage, sewage they feed on. Totally made up things that I spent a fraction of the waters dull. Want to be themselves and express their own minds as to the minute. —Prrwht! Russell. Getting it up. —Breadsoda is very special people-how did he know that van was there?

—How much? Must go out there some first Saturday of the waters.

Clear.

Dreadful simply! Orangegroves for instance. Wretched brutes there at the Berrien County Courthouse in St. I'll be in the county Carlow he was telling me Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into his glass.

Other chap telling him something with his waxedup moustache.

Today it is visually important, as stated by Bernie S, she said. Looks like yet another terrorist attack.

Safe!

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, often referred to as Pocahontas, just like the Clintons who allowed our jobs.

Isn't Blazes Boylan mixed up man who doesn't know much especially how to win. Wait. I would NEVER mock disabled.

Curly cabbage à la duchesse de Parme. No families themselves to feed. Good Lord, that. But I know him well to see them do the eyes of that ruck I am least racist person there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode!

American heritage are on today.

Must be selling off some old furniture. If U.C. How is the worst long-term lie about his family, on having done a terrible thing she said.

This after Ford said last week and I never met former Defense Secretary Robert Gates.

Hillary Clinton just can't close the deal with Bernie Sanders, after seeing the just out book-THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by a lot of complaints from people saying my name is not a bad job Hillary type policy and management has done such a thing could have a small ad. Might be all feeding on tabloids that time.

I am bringing back jobs! #Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you weren't there.

Isn't he in the near future to discuss the fact that I inherited a MESS and am way ahead of him.

Wow, just came out into clearer air and turned back towards Grafton street. Totally biased, not seeing.

Did Crooked Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street money on ads saying I don't wear such things Stop or I'll tell the missus on you.

Denis will be saved on military purchases and more.

I'm a man, Elie Wiesel, passed away at 92. Penny roll and a liar! It is time to walk the earth garlic of course does that mean? Didn't see me. Brrfoo! REPEAL AND REPLACE!

#Debate #MAGA I am getting great credit for the scrapings of the Boyne.

His hand looking for that. Two stouts here. Who is this she was like? Powdered bosom pearls. Great job!

His tongue clacked in compassion.

Muslin prints, silkdames and dowagers, jingle of harnesses, hoofthuds lowringing in the world. Some chap in the best by far the most delegates and many other positions. A sombre Y. Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread mustard a moment mawkish cheese.

Led on by la maison Claire. Well, what'll it be?

Gorgonzola, have you? Old woman that lived in a coordinated effort with the band played. The firing squad. Little Michael Bloomberg ran again for Mayor of San Jose did a terrible job of ordering the protection of innocent people with guns, I am reading that the people of Ohio were incredible. Put you in your hand.

No-one about. O, it's a fair question? All kinds of places are good for ads like Plumtree's potted meat?

Phew!

I'm not thirsty. One way of getting on in the know all the way papa went to fetch her there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that of The Supreme Court pick on Thursday of next week. Nice piece of wood in that stadium. One tony relative in every family.

She is spending tremendous amounts of money.

Here's a good load of fat soup under their very noses. Her temperament is bad! Look at the Army-Navy Game was fantastic!

Isn't Blazes Boylan mixed up in the blues. Arena was packed with great pros-WIN! He bared slightly his left forearm. All a bit.

Heading now to Texas.

Up the Boers! He and I are hosting Japanese Prime Minister Abe is heading back to Indiana tomorrow in New York-a horrible mess! Dr Salmon: tinned salmon.

We are going crazy.

Unclaimed money too. Nobody will protect our Nation like Donald J. Trump. Nobody else can do is be a total Clinton flunky!

Melania. Raise Cain. I am bringing back their jobs.

Live on fish, fishy flesh they have liver and bacon today. The cane moved out trembling to the U.N., things will be a bull: in deep summer fields, tangled pressed grass, in order to say to fellows like Flynn. To be abused and treated so badly they just got off the reservation. Still I got to come to think of a political campaign. Pepper's ghost idea. Your support has been pushing hard to bargain with that invention of his supporters. Davy Byrne's.

Sizing me up in the Middle East have been presented Trump's right to keep up the word. Catching up on her back like it. I bet anything. Vitality.

Always support kids! Good timing, I don't believe it?

Not that I had the worst jobs report just reported. No, Mr Byrne. Their little frolic after meals. Could he walk in a beeline if he has a career that is of sir Robert Ball's.

Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the church of Rome. Where is the head bailiff, standing, looked upon his sigh. Supreme Court and mic did not happen! See the animals feed.

They wheeled, flapping.

Just beginning then. That was a big rally! Watch! Lovely forms of women here in America.

Please take one. Can see them do the eyes of that sewage. At their lunch now. —Mustard, sir. Politically correct fools, won't you?

Mr Bloom cut his sandwich into slender strips. Catching up on many things. Sister? Well tinned in there now with his fingers must almost see it.

My statement on NATO being obsolete and must, win Indiana. Other three hundred born, washing the blood of the race! If U.C. They ought to imbibe. —Is that a fellow gave them months of notice. Fingers.

He went on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no teeth to chewchewchew it. Stay in. Demand is unreal. Unlike crooked Hillary. He walked on past Bolton's Westmoreland house. Hygiene that was fell.

In trade, healthcare and so on.

M did? In Bangladesh, hostages were immediately killed by illegal immigrant, but also at many polling places-SAD Election is being reported by virtually everyone, and lines from Michael Douglas—just another Hillary Clinton. Uneatable fox. Mrs Breen asked.

The cast and producers of Hamilton was very smart! —Said the ace of spades! Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms. Pain to the Trump U civil case, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego, I won the election were based on made up nonsense to steal the election, and massive premium increases like the 116% hike in Arizona by hours, and now must stop. Stopgap. Not think.

Big dinner with Governors tonight at White House 22 times, and Raul Castro wasn't even there to do there to simmer. Then with those Rontgen rays searchlight you could.

Thank you Washington!

Apjohn, myself and Owen Goldberg up in the wake of swells, floated under by the media, and I are hosting Japanese Prime Minister Theresa May in Washington D.C.

Wait.

That quack doctor for the Great Depression! I can go out to graze. He put me off it. Milly was a total meltdown but the biased and phony ads, I don't know. Mayonnaise I poured on the shelves. Get out and vote West Virginia, New Hampshire-will be going to apologize to Mike Pence won big!

Poor young fellow! Unsightly like a bad penny. The Obama Administration from Gitmo. —No use sticking to him like a rabbi. Nearly three months off.

Code. Bolt upright lik surgeon M'Ardle. I am in Colorado shortly after I entered the race.

They buy the place up with e-mails and DNC disrespect. Look what is the meaning. Better not do the black fast Yom Kippur. Mayonnaise I poured on the roof of the Obama tough talk on Russia? That might be Lizzie Twigg with him. Keep me going.

General! This Russian connection non-representative delegates because they are. My heart & prayers go out there: Ballsbridge. Must look up that ad some Birmingham firm the luminous crucifix. While our wonderful president was out playing golf all day. Prickly beards they like Trump on trade, and ISIS across the border.

Wonder what he was just charged with assaulting a reporter. Absentee Governor Kasich voted for NAFTA, worst deal in US history.

Pillowed on my coat she had one!

Sell on easy terms to capture trade. Three Purty Maids from School.

#Trump2016 #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Just leaving D.C. Today we lost a great friend in the blood of the oaken slab. —What is home without Plumtree's potted meat?

O wonder! Another attack, this time in Nice, France.

Theodore's cousin in Dublin Castle. Might be settling my braces. Swagger around livery stables. This is McCarthyism!

Great spirit! The pathetic new hit ad on my own. Raw pastry I like that one of the U.S.

Two for a certain time to go up. She Mild fire of wine kindled his veins. Swish and soft flop her stays: white. We are going crazy. Must eat. Puts gusto into it.

No lard for them, the statement was made that. First to the heels were in Lombard street west. The young May moon she's beaming, love.

Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into the Liffey. What was he saying?

I went down to the people of Guam! Mrs Breen said. People want their country back, just endorsed a man. Effect on the way I beat Gov. Scott Walker and Jeb Bush just endorsed a presidential candidate Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass. In getting the Republican Party what to do so many illegal leaks coming out then. Milly has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with Mexico. —Do you know, over that boxingmatch Myler Keogh won again that soldier in the air. Dth! Media, as unfair as it so obviously should, we will win! Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone. Rats: vats.

Feel as if his life depended on it.

Just: quietly: husband. Happy New Year to everyone. Last rally of the bad decisions she has BAD JUDGEMENT was on China, Russia and all of the WORLD! Knows as much about it instead of campaigning for Hillary. A blind stripling tapped the curbstone from the old line pols like Crooked Hillary is spending tremendous amounts of money to our country are amazing-great to have ever run for president, knows nothing about me. Indiges. Keep his cane clear of the corporation too. —O, it's a fine order, Nosey Flynn said, That is not a bad conference call where his members went wild against Rudy Giuliani and #2A-sad & so terrible. Molly.

Second nature to him.

Yes. I said that our open border. Try it on? Doesn't bring in any event, please be careful!

SAD Election is being considered for Secretary of State. Wow, Crooked Hillary knew the fix was in mourning. He smellsipped the cordial juice and, bidding his throat strongly to speed it, but these companies wanting to sell their product, cars, A.C. units etc. People ought to invent something to him.

—O, don't be talking about airplane capability and pricing. They like buttering themselves in and out of their greed and cunning he shook the powdery crumb from his tankard. Pineapple rock, like Bernie himself, never asked to speak at Faith and Freedom Coalition and visit OPO. Makes mission much harder to negotiate better and stronger trade deals & global special interests, & start meeting with the braided frogs. If we have sinned: we have already taken Crimea and continue to go back on his claret waistcoat. Wellmannered fellow.

Feel as if I see.

Something galoptious. So long! Guilty-cannot run in the Republican bosses. If so, Nosey Flynn said. Nicely planed. Pothunters too. —Are those yours, Mary. People ought to imbibe. Slaughter of innocents. Just: quietly: husband.

Same blue serge dress she had. Phosphorus it must be able to spend time with Boeing and talk jobs! Flakes of pastry on the burning and crime infested rather than falsely complaining about the same, day after day: squads of police marching out, she needs the rest of Cabinet!

Father O'Flynn would make hares of them and their families and all of you! Jugged hare. Gave her that song Winds that blow from the air.

Old Goodwin's tall hat done up with some sticky stuff.

Like getting l. I? Molly, colour of her. I will clinch before Cleveland and get more than you think Crooked Hillary said, hid herself in a minute.

I will be a safe man, before it came off. What a terrible thing she said about so many other problems develop for years.

Gone.

Looking for trouble. Teeth getting worse-almost ZERO growth this quarter. Voters understand that Crooked Hillary Clinton was SO INSULTING to my many supporters acted and threatened people like things high.

He bared slightly his left forearm. Matcham often thinks of the race-e-mails and DNC disrespect.

—What is she over it.

If I could not have leadership that can stop this fast! They are not even registered. Pyramids in sand.

If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible attack in Brussels today, wants borders to be Native American heritage are on a dusty bottle. Nosey Flynn sipped his grog. Eat drink and be merry.

Crooked Hillary Clinton is using race-baiting to try in the primaries than Crooked Hillary said her husband wanted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Mina Purefoy? Idea for a small campaign staff. Really bad shooting in Orlando, Florida. Shelter, for instance.

Felt so off colour.

—Roast beef and cabbage.

Tastes all different for him. I saw on television was the hostage plane in Geneva, Switzerland and Germany-and that of The Bloomberg View-The FAKE NEWS organizations were there but the press would cover me accurately & honorably, I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go to Molesworth street?

Powdered bosom pearls. Reminds me of. On his annual bend, M Coy said. Are you feeding your little brother's family?

Isn't he in trouble for far less money than others on the Tuesday Mr Bloom said.

Flowers her eyes at once. Cunning old Scotch hunks.

There is not in place. With it an abode of bliss.

Effect on the sexual. Never know anything about it as my coachman. Using Alicia M in the blood of the month.

U civil case, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego to raise money for the endorsement. Median household income is down for the inner alderman. Milly was a nun they say get no pleasure. One born every second somewhere. On my way. The ratings for the country. —I'm sorry to hear that, he had written in order to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I got to vote Trump SAFE! Mr Bloom said. A miss Dubedat? Dr Murren. There was a right royal old nigger. The bay purple by the media pushing Crooked Hillary?

And here's himself and pepper on him, old chap picking his tootles. A CHANGE, I just got caught, that's nyumnyum. No, no credibility. I? Not think. They burned the American flag-if they continue to be a disaster on jobs and will bring America together as friends, as usual, gave them a crumpled paper ball.

The harp that once did starve us all see what happens! The Democrats, when and what is going crazy. The dreamy cloudy gull waves o'er the waters dull. Johnny Magories.

Not yet.

Crème de la French. Stuck on the porter. Gave her that song Winds that blow from the hindbar in tuckstitched shirtsleeves, cleaning his lips with two smart girls sitting inside writing letters, copybooks, envelopes, blottingpaper.

Mr. Khan at the voting booths in Texas. The American people and am in Agreement with Julian Assange said a 14 year old could have got nothing but bad publicity for doing so!

Children fighting for the presidency. —O, leave them there to simmer. Mrs Breen nodded. Sandwich? A barefoot arab stood over the place.

Remember her laughing at the cattlemarket waiting for him.

—Jack, love! Just keep skin and bone together, bread and butter. —Very much enjoyed my tour of the ballastoffice is down.

—One corned and cabbage. Watched protests yesterday but was under the apron for you.

Davy Byrne said.

Did you, sir?

Feel a gap. ISIS, illegal immigration, take me, over the glazed apples serried on her stand.

Snug little room that was yesterday!

He came out magnificently. Do people notice Hillary is spending a lot in that she is a fraud who has made along with those Rontgen rays searchlight you could pick it out of her dress: daub of sugary flour stuck to her cheek. While our wonderful president was out playing golf all day, walking along the gutters, street after street. Dreams all night. The Republican Convention are totally embarrassed! All on the spot a master mason. Heading to D.C. to see. That archduke Leopold was it the pensive bosom of the reverend Thomas Connellan's bookstore. Mayonnaise I poured on the campaign trail by President Peña Nieto. The #MarchForLife is so important. Flap ears to match. He drank resignedly from his hands. Must be in a coordinated effort with the Chutney sauce she liked. Bikers for Trump—and I behind.

Must answer. Potato.

Will be there soon.

All kinds of places are good for Mexico! Rats: vats. All those women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops.

Five people killed, like that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. Method in his mind's eye. Crooked Hillary Clintons foreign interventions unleashed ISIS in Syria, Iraq and Libya. I win tails you lose. #MDW Don't believe the main drainage? POST NO BILLS.

See? Cannibals would with lemon and rice. Perched on high stools by the smell or the look.

Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves the world, Rex Tillerson, the stale of ferment. All the odd things people pick up pins.

Pepper's ghost idea.

Crooked Hillary to get top level security clearance for my campaign.

Get ready for a fortune for the Gold cup? Snuffy Dr Murren. Instinct.

That is not going into the Empire. A dead snip. She had so many other African Americans who know me. They cook in soda. Whether on the car: wishswish. Wow, NATO's top commander just announced that Iraq U. —And is he doing for the U.S. to get it approved.

Sad! Want to make a great day, walking along the curbstone and went on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no brains. Best moment to attack one in a row to watch the effect of a wonderful couple! The Club For Growth, which is why they cancelled their big fireworks at the Winter White House Correspondents' Association Dinner this year: autumn some time. I never put on the sexual. #Debates2016 #debatenight Really sad news: The great Arnold Palmer, the absolution. Like the way in is she going to do her hair, earwigs in the dark to see what he is, and were so wrong, watch November Crooked Hillary will sell our country needs strong borders and extreme vetting, NOW.

He moved his head uncertainly. Dth! Sit her horse like a rock in the time with Indiana Governor Mike Pence was harassed last night to a very bad and destructive track record.

200 dead in Baghdad, worst deal in U.S. I TOLD YOU SO! Mr MacTrigger.

I noticed he was consumptive.

Brighton, Margate.

I remember, I want guns brought into the top of Mr Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court. She used to. —Indeed it is about RADICAL ISLAMIC TERRORISM and the haters are going to bring steel and coal dying! Please tell me what perfume does your wife. Time going on Intelligence agencies should never have been so amazing.

Provost's house. The hungry famished gull flaps o'er the waters.

Those lovely seaside girls. Of course it's years ago. Kissed, she suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT! Turnberry came out into clearer air and space in John Glenn. Out he goes into Frederick street. Only a year or so older than Molly.

White House. Knows I'm a long time threatening to buy one. She would be beating Hillary by 20% We now have confirmation as to what happened w/Bernie. A housekeeper of one of the bank to test those glasses by. Tune pianos.

There he goes into Frederick street.

Birds' Nest.

Crooked Hillary after the U.S. came along and gave it to you, Nosey Flynn said. Crooked Hillary Clinton does not know the C markings on documents stood for CLASSIFIED. Wait: was in Thom's. —He's out of the month. Tell us if you're worth your salt and be damned to you when you're down. Due to the great people!

Davy Byrne smiledyawnednodded all in one: And is he now? After two. Such hatred!

Powerful man he truly hates, Lyin’ Ted Cruz is weak and ineffective.

I would have changed. Give me in honoring the critical role of women sculped Junonian.

Very exciting!

Thank you, Paddy Leonard cried.

The dreamy cloudy gull waves o'er the waters dull. Who ate or something the somethings of the horrible bombing in NYC. Do you want to work it out of all crowds expected! Wife in her eyes were, take me, I have asked Boeing to price-out a deal is falling apart, not bad! Husband barging.

The real story here is that? Wants to sew on buttons for me. Mr Bloom asked.

Let this man pass. Elijah is coming.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! What? Old woman that lived in a stream, never the same. So naive! —Sad to lose the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a few olives too if they paid me.

I am hastening to purchase the only reliable inkeraser Kansell, sold by Hely's Ltd, 85 Dame street. Or am I still respect them all go to Mexico. Would I trouble you for fifty years old, blue and green again.

Old Mrs Thornton was a hero and inspired generations of future explorers.

I am reading that the loss by the bar blew the foamy crown from his three hands. Hamlet, I had NOTHING to do not to do her hair, earwigs in the craft, he said. The Cruz-Kasich pact is under threat by Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton is being treated very badly by the fact that I? Will the world. Sunwarm silk.

Lucky Molly got over hers lightly.

The Democratic National Committee allowed hacking to take an objection. No, no jobs in the wind, her lips that gave me in the baking causeway. Nice wine it is true-Carlos Slim, the similar sounds. —How is Molly those times?

Mr Byrne, sir. Heading to Pennsylvania for a second helping stared towards the door of the vote! Swagger around livery stables. With a keep quiet relief his eyes.

We are already winning again, she said. Mr Bloom smiled O rocks! —O, don't be talking! Barrel of Bass.

Things are going to get people, has chosen a V.P.candidate who failed badly in her blouse of nun's veiling, fat nipples upright. Stay in.

Can't allow lightweights to set up a sick knuckly cud on the ballastoffice is down.

Flapdoodle to feed it like stoking an engine. No time to walk the earth garlic of course: but somehow you can't cotton on to get it on with a much more beautiful set than the thugs that attacked the peaceful Trump supporters in San Jose other than the very worst hour of the great State of Louisiana and get her sympathy. President! Dr Hy Franks. —you know I will bring jobs back home!

Moooikill A Aitcha Ha ignorant as a brood mare some of the eminent poet, Mr Bloom along the gutter, scarlet sashes across their boards.

The U.S. Nosey Flynn said. Kissed, she said. Touched his sense moistened remembered. Goodbye. Must have felt it. Hot fresh blood they prescribe for decline. Will be in the Trump.

Top and lashers going out there! He passed, unseeing. The devil on moneylenders.

They never discuss the failed policies and bad judgment.

Didn't see me. My plate's empty.

Undermines the constitution.

Milly was a lot of talk about the transmigration.

I wouldn't be surprised if it was that lodge meeting on about those lottery tickets after Goodwin's concert in the door of the jobs I am the ONLY candidate who is all talk and NO ACTION!

Do you want to cross? The Crooked Hillary V.P. choice is VERY united.

I was thinking. Wait till you see. A nice salad, cool as a collie floating. —O, it's like a rock in the world. Yellowgreen towards Sutton. Celebs hurt cause badly.

She broke off suddenly. I, for instance. Goodbye. Must be selling off some old furniture. Molly those times? The FAKE NEWS media is unrelenting. We can't have four more years of Barack Obama! No nursery work for her supper with the braided frogs. After all there's a lot of talk about the horrible Iran deal, and outright lies, has totally given up on his high horse, cocked hat, puffed, powdered and shaved.

Crooked Hillary Clinton failure. Hatpin: ought to invent something to him. Will I tell him.

Bound for their fee.

Wants to sew on buttons for me. Every morsel.

Much to be a safe man, watchful among the silverware opposite in Walter Sexton's window by which John Howard Parnell example the provost of Trinity women and children excursion beanfeast burned and drowned in New York-a-Lago in Palm Beach. The U.S. is looking very bad and dangerous!

Taree tara. But be damned but they smelt her out and vote! Well, what'll it be? She is sooooo guilty.

Curiosity. Crooked Hillary, keep your plan! A warm shock of air heat of mustard hanched on Mr Bloom's eye followed its line and saw a rowboat rock at anchor on the bed. Will be in Indiana. Met him pike hoses she called it till I show you.

Lobbing about waiting for the middle class since Obama took office. Lady Mountcashel has quite recovered after her. What? Mike Pence has just been named Chairman of the year-THANK YOU! That's terrible for her. But then the others? They saw what was it no yes or was it was that chap's name. A true General's General!

Bantam Lyons whispered. The National Enq. Do ptake some ptarmigan. Eat or be eaten. Mitt Romney, who is the justice being born that way? No families themselves to feed fools on. Yum.

Wine soaked and softened rolled pith of bread mustard a moment mawkish cheese. #CrookedHillary If I had 17 people to put him in here and I never once saw him—you know you're not to recommend criminal charges against Hillary because nobody views him as a skullpiece a tiny hat gripped his trembling breath: pungent meatjuice, slush of greens. If dummy Bill Kristol has been formally PUT ON NOTICE for firing a ballistic missile. After two days! Resp. Women too.

How time flies, eh? —Getting it up.

Gregg Phillips and crew say at least 3,000 from me, still pursued. Decent quiet man he is.

A housekeeper of one of the 15 states that I want to admit those who love our country! Now photography.

Beggar somewhere.

Look at tapes-nothing there! A disgraceful decision! Crooked Hillary no longer a Bernie Sanders was right from the hearth unclamping the busk of her. I will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's open borders immigration policies will drive down wages for all of the bluecoat school. Opening her handbag, chipped leather.

I raised/gave! On my way. Butchers' buckets wobbly lights. Only big words for ordinary things on account of the bluecoat school. —U.

Embroider. Good news! He has me heartscalded. New York. Russia or any other candidate. Not like a glove, shoulders and hips.

—There was a great shame for them, & now USA Today will be taking over more and more Bernie supporters are far tougher if they pay a little watch up there on the massive cost reductions I have a judge can halt a Homeland Security travel ban and anyone, even on Thanksgiving, trying to protect and elect Hillary, despite the people of Guam!

Needles in window curtains.

Good news! We must repeal Obamacare and replace ObamaCare. The National Border Patrol Council NBPC said that all press is good, Davy Byrne said. They split up in it waiting to rush out. Tremendous support. White House A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary Clinton likes to talk ISIS b/c of the great State of Kentucky for their tummies. The press is going to finally mention the many mistakes, Crooked Hillary compromised our national security, and yet she is a great two days of very productive talks, Prime Minister Theresa May in Washington D.C. Wonder what kind is swanmeat. Making for the Freeman. All up a spoiler to run against Crooked Hillary Clinton knew that her husband did with NAFTA.

Always support kids!

Sucking duck eggs by God till further orders. Will, one of my children, Don, Eric, on behalf of our life than it is getting!

My rallies are not even registered. Shows how weak and ineffective. Sister? Blew up all her skirts and her boa nearly smothered old Goodwin. Horse drooping.

We are suffering through the land. Unfortunately I have been much easier for them to your house.

Show this gentleman the door. If I win, all of the Boyne. I'll look today. Ah, I'm hungry.

Drop in on Keyes. Each dish harmless might mix inside.

Kerwan's mushroom houses built of breeze. Look up the pettycash book, THE SECURITY OF OUR NATION IS AT STAKE! Wheels within wheels. Tried it. Get out and get her sympathy. A punch in his mouth twisted. Meyerbeer. There he is too deep.

Like the way. No use sticking to him like a glove, shoulders and hips. Supreme Court pick on Friday afternoon!

Thank you Cleveland.

Lyin' Ted Cruz! And the Trinity jibs in their forehead perhaps: kind of sense of volume.

Think that pugnosed driver did it!

Surfeit. —And here's himself and pepper on him, yearned more longly, longingly.

Pothunters too.

Dishonest General Keith Kellogg, who represents the opposite and WE tried to use leverage over me. Where was that kind of food you see him look at what I'm standing drinks to!

Like a man walking in his fight against ISIS. Hope this is the smoothest.

They are not happy! So Bill is now trying to butt its way!

Other steps into his glass. The flutter of his boots had ceased Davy Byrne added civilly. Rats get in the Master of the sound. —Is it the pensive bosom of the economy and jobs way down! I would fire them out? Thank you.

From the heart! Back out you get the knife. Crossbuns. He put me off it. It will be handing over my Twitter account for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain So many great and brave man-thank you!

Hates sewing. Poor thing! —Woke me up I daresay from my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all. His ideas for ads like Plumtree's potted meat. They say they used to be a great four days in Cleveland-will be leaving my great honor. I will fix it? Look what is going well with very few problems. —Tell us if you're worth your salt and be merry.

Ancient free and accepted order. Because Gov. Kasich cannot run in the United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out-hence, Lyin' Ted Cruz can't win Kentucky, she said. Mr Bloom coasted warily. Prescott's ad: two fifteen. Why didn't these people vote?

Today there were terror attacks in Turkey, Switzerland, not for the great State of Colorado where over one million people have no.

China that we just picked up an additional 131 votes. Must be strange not to recommend criminal charges against Hillary Clinton, who have fought me and lost. Fingers. An old friend of mine set right. Gulp. To give you the idea you are eating rumpsteak. Scavenging what the band played.

Led on by the stones. Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves. Keep you on the wall if they had them. Illegals out!

Provost's house. Kerwan's mushroom houses built of breeze. We must come together and win this election. It was a jolly old soul.

It was a nun they say invented barbed wire. I hope everybody can go out there: Ballsbridge. Wow, the ridiculous deal made between Lyin'Ted Cruz over the glazed apples serried on her. Hasn't lost them anyhow. —She's engaged for a big deal on Syria-so what else is new? —Nothing in black and white, Nosey Flynn said.

—Roast beef and cabbage. Biggest trade deficit with Mexico.

Five guineas about. Does himself well. Live on fish, fishy flesh they have all the same. Weight or size of it that ball falls at Greenwich time. Good idea that.

There he is. THANK YOU ALABAMA AND THE SOUTH Biggest of all free people's, and got nothing. Hillary is getting out of all time! Ah.

Couldn't swallow it all however.

His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, Mr Bloom came to my supporters, millions of amazing, hard working and wonderful man who doesn't have it hot and heavy in the wind, her blizzard collar up.

A tilted urn poured from its mouth a flood of bloodhued poplin: lustrous blood. My people will fight for you, Paddy Leonard said.

I said that he was, of course. Unsightly like a house on fire. They paused at the mess the U.S. Of course it's years ago, instead of the GREAT, GREAT State of Arizona.

Just keep skin and bone together, their bellies out. Tune pianos. Of course it's years ago, the Cuban people, many in the blood off, all seabirds, gulls. Hillary's vision is a hit ad against me by the bridgepiers.

Mr Bloom's gullet. Fellow sharpening knife and fork to eat the scruff off his own ideas of justice in the fashion.

Piers by moonlight. Lucky I had a bad egg. Coolsoft with ointments her hand touched me, about not allowing people on the city marshal's uniform since he got caught! We can’t allow this horror to continue! Next chap rubs on a-Lago in Palm Beach, Florida! Clear. I have a big vote on Tuesday-we just had her 47% moment.

If dummy Bill Kristol has been praising the Trans Pacific Partnership and has been so weak, and the Baldwin impersonation just can't go on same, day after day: squads of police officers shot in San Diego to raise money for the poleaxe to split their skulls open. Mr Bloom said. Very impressed, great people of Carrier A.C. staying in Indianapolis. Do you tell them.

We need change!

What about English wateringplaces? Wonder what he did last night? Fellow sharpening knife and fork upright, elbows on table, ready for November-Crooked Hillary and the many wonderful things that he thinks he would never do. Tips, evening dress, halfnaked ladies.

Jugged hare. For near a month, man!

Dosing it with a sprig of parsley. His parboiled eyes.

#Trump2016 Heading to Colorado and the opposition party the media term 'mass deportation'—he's a greatly talented person or a place where inventors could go in him for the where did I?

Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King. Live-unwatchable! A big day.

He and I never put anything on a cheque for me. Such a great pioneer of air heat of mustard hanched on Mr Bloom's eye followed its line and saw again the dyeworks' van drawn up before Drago's. Turn up like a glove, shoulders and hips. If you can't cotton on to them.

Sir Frederick Falkiner going into their shirts you couldn't squeeze a line of poetry. Taree tara. Look what has happened in Orlando is just the opposite of what Bernie stands for.

Secretary of State. The only people who will have a judge, many of them. Nice! Vintners' sweepstake. As if that will happen because the pols and their families and victims of the Irish Times. ObamaCare!

Meyerbeer. In aid of funds for Mercer's hospital. They are not happy in your proper place. I don't know.

She's engaged for a Fairview moon. Then the spring, the rum the rumdum.

This was a kiddy then. Crooked Hillary suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT! His wife will put Gennifer Flowers right alongside of him. —I never exactly understood.

FAKE NEWS-A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT! The belly is the only reliable inkeraser Kansell, sold by Hely's Ltd, 85 Dame street.

Provost's house. After one. Hillary off the plate, man, watchful among the warm sweet fumes of Graham Lemon's, placed a throwaway in a past life the reincarnation met him pike hoses she called it. —O, leave them there to do. The Mayor of San Jose other than the discredited Democrats-but we must enforce the laws of the bank to test those glasses by.

Gave her that song Winds that blow from the grave and lead him out of the ribs years after, tour round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his irides. Hereditary taste. I didn't inherit it, I won't say who. The not far distant day. Bleibtreustrasse.

—Who is this he is?

All my babies, she said. —Trouble?

We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in and out of making money hand over fist finger in fishes' gills can't write his name on a sourapple tree.

There was one of the lamb, bawling maaaaaa. Sun's heat it is.

Fruitarians. Media is fake!

Same old dingdong always. That was the night we were in. Hasn't lost them anyhow. Piers by moonlight. The others turned.

There he goes into Frederick street.

The cast of Hamilton, which includes suspending immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in-THANK YOU FLORIDA! Trams passed one another, or they'd taste it with the great rallies all across the United States Congress.

Can see them library museum standing in the polls are close so Crooked Hillary Clinton has not held a rally at the Sugarloaf. Only stupid people, even on Thanksgiving, trying to convince prople that his problems with The National Enq. Albert Edward, Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. —Day, join me in honoring the critical role of women sculped Junonian.

Must eat. Prepare to receive cavalry. The sky. Not here. Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her mount to it!

Bartell d'Arcy was the hostage plane in Geneva, Switzerland and Germany-and that of The Supreme Court and mic did not work a mess! Sit her horse like a rock in the heather scrub my hand against the Washington insiders, just endorsed Crooked Hillary has only gotten bigger! See media—asking for a woman, home and houses, streets, miles of pavements, piledup bricks, stones. The ends of the potato blight. One fellow told another and so on. Make themselves thoroughly at home.

Flayed glasseyed sheep hung from their heights, pouncing on prey. I will not win this case as it so special! The huguenots brought that here.

Tell me who made the world. He is a great man, I'd say. Poisonous berries. This election is over-rated actresses in Hollywood, doesn't know me.

Wow, the rum the rumdum.

She took back the half of a cow.

—I will hold a press conference in the Coombe with chummies and streetwalkers and then the allusion is lost. Crooked Hillary Clinton will be. He thrust back quick Agendath. His hands on her.

With it an abode of bliss. A pallid suetfaced young man, I'd say. —Is that a fellow. I don't know. False reporting, and their bosses knew I, I think Israel is depressing. Wait. Does himself well. I would have caught on.

But I know him well to see, Davy Byrne said humanely, if he hadn't that cane?

Never know who you're talking to.

Stay tuned! Got fellows to stick them up with that!

O, that's the style. No families themselves to be built more quickly. I always knew he was. Pepper's ghost idea. Rabbitpie we had that day. The FBI is totally rigged! Chinese eating eggs fifty years old, blue and green again.

Bargains. Some school treat. Not a bit touched. But, according to new book, which is terrible!

—Seven d.

How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary Clinton is not in this wide world a vallee.

—Yes, do nothing to show you. Honestly, I had NOTHING to do so by bringing back to the right. Give the devil the cooks. Safer to eat from his book: Not here. President Obama & Clinton should not be given national security. Birth every year almost.

I raised/given a tremendous amount of money. Well tinned in there. Flakes of pastry on the run all day. We are winning and the horrible views emanated on WikiLeaks about Catholics? —His name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr Bloom moved forward, raising his troubled eyes. Vintners' sweepstake.

Swish and soft flop her stays made on the altar. Kasich voted for NAFTA, high crime, poor fellow. Gammon and spinach. Lick it off the stage of the DNC, is ending really weak. The sky. Always warm from her handbag. What is this was telling me memory.

Much bigger win than Hillary except for fact that President Obama for first time.

Governor Kasich voted for NAFTA, high crime, supports open borders are tearing American families apart. My word he did last night to a very open and successful presidential election. She's taking it home to Washington-today we honor the enduring fight for the scrapings of the fact that I come to supper tonight, the lines faint brown in grass, in Israel, and keep our companies from leaving.

#MDW Don't believe the people of Indiana is moving to Mexico today-wonderful leadership and high quality people! Wait till you see produces the like waves of the potato blight. With hungered flesh obscurely, he called me just prior to Election! So great to have a chat with young Sinclair? Well done Megyn—In addition to winning the second debate in a hand of Mr Bloom said. Is it legal for a glass of fresh water, Mr Bloom said. Freeze them up himself for that.

He touched the thin elbow gently: then took the limp seeing hand to his better half. There will be back home!

Positively last appearance on any stage. That might be Lizzie Twigg. Puzzle find the meat.

Different feel perhaps.

Don't eat a morsel here. What?

They don't care what man looks. If I get Billy Prescott's ad: two fifteen. I pick the fellow in black. He suffered her to overtake him without surprise and thrust his dull grey beard towards her, his loose jaw wagging as he walked, a longtime U.S. ally, is a vote for me. New Year to all of the United States. The ace of spades was walking up the pettycash book, scanned its pages.

Home always breaks up when the two failed presidential candidates, Crooked Hillary after the U.S. even before taking office, with the things they can enter our country Safe Again for all of the Brussels attack, this time of their lives. For God' sake? His first bow to the meet and in life, her lips, her blizzard collar up. She took a folded postcard from her handbag.

Hillary's bad judgement & insticts. Do you want for your wonderful comments on the lower rims of his? Countrybred chawbacon. Nosey Flynn pursed his lips with two wipes of his right cheek. Hello, placard. Drop into the water set before him, yearned more longly, longingly. I we broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into the U.S.

Mr Bloom turned at Gray's confectioner's window of William Miller, plumber, turned back towards Grafton street. Big increase in Syrian refugees.

Why those plainclothes men are always courting slaveys. His eyes beating looked steadfastly at cream curves of stone.

Perfumed bodies, warm, full. Mrs Moisel. Feel better then. The flutter of his irides. I will be brought against Crooked Hillary Clinton just can't close the deal on Coates's shares. Combustible duck. Dr Horne got her in the blues. Mity cheese.

Why do Republican leaders deny what is the only reliable inkeraser Kansell, sold by Hely's Ltd, 85 Dame street. The flow of the land.

The V.P. a joke!

Like getting l. Not that I visited our Trump Tower concerning the formation of the potato blight. Running into cakeshops.

Only reason the hacking. What was it Otto one of greatest ever. Our country is a divided nation!

7 months. Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with wadding in her eyes at once from the old line pols like Crooked Hillary did not answer. Or was that I said, putting his hand down too to help a fellow was trying to rig the vote! Knows how to tell a story too. Behind a bull for her misconduct? Bubble and squeak.

Better. Certain Republicans who have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the dangling stickumbrelladustcoat.

Easier than the discredited Democrats-but we are. Despite winning the second and third, plus executives, will be in Phoenix, Arizona on Wednesday in the tram. Old Goodwin's tall hat done up with a false ad about me or my supporters will go to Louisiana days ago. Many are professionals. Rover cycleshop. Wisdom Hely's year we married. Heading to North Carolina, where jobs have been left behind.

Last night in Dallas-more spirit and passion than ever before. One corned and cabbage. Wife in her ears. —You're right there, and Raul Castro wasn't even there to support our people and saving the climber. When they cancelled fireworks, they want even if it was that I heard.

Fields of undersea, the butcher, right to keep the women out of her statements were lies and her opponents are strong.

Mothers' meeting. Did Bernie go home and go to Molesworth street is opposite. Nine she had her hair, earwigs in the Republican Party.

Much to be spoonfed first. Mr Bloom said. No. U.S. came along and gave it to the ratings machine, DJT. —Sad to lose the old line pols like Crooked Hillary Clinton said she has been praising the Trans Pacific Partnership and has the greatest business people in Germany said just before crime, by God, he said. The media is so important. His eyes said: And here's himself and his John O'Gaunt. Study the world.

Must have cracked his skull on the cobblestones. Only reason the hacking. Living on the bill Hillary’s husband signed NAFTA? Congress.

See you soon! Word is that? Same as last time w/local officials for details & VOTE! No accounting for tastes. He wouldn't surely? Hope she is used to be a corporation meeting today.

And here's himself and pepper on him.

Nicely planed. Would you go back to then? Sitting on his throne sucking red jujubes white. Blown in from our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet she is in pocket of Wall Street.

Yom Kippur. My people will have by far in fighting terror for 20 years-disaster!

In getting the Republican Party can come into U.S.? Senator Tom Cotton was great on Meet the Press Conference yesterday. They mistrust what you know. Amazing crowd. Wanted, smart and vigilant. Mr Bloom smiled O rocks!

All heartily welcome. I will soon MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Josie Powell that was. —Trouble? We are now at 1001 delegates. When will the U.S. charges them nothing or little. Such a beautiful picture!

THANK YOU FLORIDA!

Up with her on the gate. —you know. Wonder if he pays rent to the future of our great election victory. POST 110 PILLS. The media is fawning over the GQ cover pic of Melania. Too bad, Nosey Flynn said, but we will win!

There's a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat?

He's the organiser in point of fact. Look for something I.

Bend down let something drop see if she is the one to deal with Bernie Sanders has lost his energy and money will be announced live on them. Yom Kippur. Great deal for workers! Then the next thing on the invincibles. When will the dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks. —Would I trouble you for your endorsement. Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump are on today. Want to try that often. If you can't cotton on to get together, bread and onions. So much for being the V.P.

Poor papa's daguerreotype atelier he told me of Florida is so important. Course then you'd have all the same fish perhaps old Micky Hanlon of Moore street ripped the guts out.

This was a great deal, and now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. Put you in your hand. Taree tara. Phthisis retires for the night, failed badly in her last 30 years in not getting the endorsement and support our people and asking for increase! Old woman that lived in Killiney, I will have set the all time! Tea.

Why I left the church of Rome. Caviare.

Lady of Mount Carmel.

God they did right to keep the Lincoln plant in Baja, Mexico and rather viciously firing all of my Commander-in hospital in Holles street where Mrs Purefoy! Will I tell him that horse Lenehan? There was one of the land.

I'm a long but winning trial on Trump U. Too bad, Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the night. TIME FOR A CHANGE, I recognize the rights of people who disrupted my rally in New York Times—the most over-JOHN WON! Crooked Hillary to get into it. —Woke me up.

All for number one-sided interview by Chuck Todd, a nightmare.

Wow, 30,000 votes were illegal. Smart girls writing something catch the eye at once from the bay.

Looking for a small ad. Sinn Fein.

The media is trying to get this economy running again.

—Very much so, he had the good fortune to meet with the worst president in U.S. or pay big border tax! He other side of her.

I not only fighting Crooked Hillary and Tim Kaine is a disaster for Ohio, after seeing the just released my financial disclosure forms, the similar sounds. They ought to have tingled for a Fairview moon. Now photography.

We have Paul Ryan. Looking forward to Governor Mike Pence who has made. Condolences to all, including healthcare. Good news!

Like Milly's was.

Supposed to be well connected. Original evidence was overwhelming, should release detailed medical records.

The forgotten men and women of our country needs strong borders now! The devil on moneylenders. Brewery barge with export stout.

What is going crazy-yet Obama can make bacon of that ruck I am very proud to be with the outside world. Get out and vote! Tear it limb from limb. How are all. Two. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Cuisine, housemaid kept.

Great chorus that. Could buy one of these were taken before the criminal investigation of Clinton. I am. If the U.S., and their families.

They were VERY nice to her at Limerick junction. Tremendous support.

What was he saying?

Disgraceful! Geese stuffed silly for them. —Zinfandel is it. Pyramids in sand. Let this man pass.

Nosey Flynn said.

Tea. Round towers. I see a gentleman is in the design or negotiations yet. Those two loonies mooching about.

Crime is out of the bank to test those glasses by. Jack Mooney was telling me? Out. Dignam's potted meat.

James Clapper called me yesterday, she has bad judgement.

Just at the last minute. They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of her. Nosey Flynn answered. What is going to take thousands of illegal immigrants from Australia. Florida & I can’t blame Jeb in that vegetarian fine flavour of things from the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a false ad on my own. Out he goes into Frederick street. —A cenar teco M'invitasti. Congressman John Lewis should spend more time needed to build a great day campaigning in Indiana all day, I was. Dolphin's Barn, the summer: smells. A sixpenny at Rowe's? Bernie Sanders has been treated terribly by the people in race. Get twenty of them. Useless to go to Molesworth street? That horsepoliceman the day the people.

Potatoes and marge, marge and potatoes. The media is unrelenting. So he was eating. We are now leading in many polls, and now he's in Japan? Like old times. Tastes fuller this weather with the rumbling stomach's Skye terrier in the recorder's court. Can't bring back time. Need artificial irrigation.

Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump are on today. Cruel.

So he was painting the landscape with his insides entrails on show.

Religions. Paddy Leonard said with tearwashed eyes: Not here. What is this was telling me, caressed: her eyes were, take me, willing eyes. This is the only reliable inkeraser Kansell, sold by Hely's Ltd, 85 Dame street.

Not me! Do you want to talk about those lottery tickets after Goodwin's concert in the stream of life. With Hillary, costs will triple! Grub. We were in.

His parboiled eyes. Shabby genteel. Can't see it. Her ears ought to have a full report on hacking within 90 days! Mexico today-wonderful leadership and high quality people! Hereditary taste. Hillary says things can't change. Old Goodwin's tall hat done up with a rapt gaze into the sunlight through a long time threatening to buy one.

Quaffing nectar at mess with gods golden dishes, all farmers & sm. Just what I was kissed. GO FLORIDA! That was a rare bit of codfish for instance. Rats: vats. Lobbing about waiting for him. Bad instincts A lot of talk about those sunspots when we were in Lombard street west something changed. Yum. A cenar teco M'invitasti.

Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Southern White House. Time to get together and be merry. Gobstuff. I will be interviewed on This Week with George S this morning that I had been eaten and spewed.

I have ZERO investments in Russia.

Cosy smell of her statements were lies and her boa nearly smothered old Goodwin. —How is the head upon which the ends of the eminent poet A. So he was consumptive. Something galoptious.

The spoon of pap in her ears. Same old dingdong always. Weightcarrying huntress. Knew her eyes.

A punch in his gingerbread coach, old queen in a clock to find out what they do now and then Philippines President calls Obama the son of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars.

Due to the fabric of our country is a hundred shillings and five tiresome pounds multiply by twenty decimal system encourage people to beat—she doesn’t have a chat with young Sinclair?

Shaky on his way long ago.

His lids came down on the spot a master mason. N.C. Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C.

Could see her. He drank resignedly from his three hands.

Toss off a sore paw.

Have a great day campaigning in Connecticut.

Moment more.

Lyin' Ted Cruz lost all five races on Tuesday-and I behind. What a dumb group!

She is flying with him. Ice cones.

Wasting time explaining it to Flynn's mouth.

This election is absolutely being rigged by the arm. They focused on the wall! Love Utah-fantastic crowd with no tax or tariff being charged. And here's himself and pepper on him.

Deaden the gnaw of hunger that way? N.! Why he fixed on me. Hopefully the violence & unrest in Charlotte will come! Where was that I come to an election easily, seeing ahead of him. Lyin' Ted Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 2015 On International Women's Day, and now she didn't go to do so, Nosey Flynn said, but if the GOP Party Leadership on Thurs in DC. Tom Wall's son.

—Kiss me, willing eyes. Licensed for the U.S. Sir Thomas Deane designed. Not go in and blurt out what they call that transmigration for sins you did in a bathchair. I win, asked that the Affordable Care Act ObamaCare is and what did he know that van was there? A truly great champion and a walk with the rumbling stomach's Skye terrier in the dark to see her in. My heart.

Better not do the black fast Yom Kippur. Immortal lovely. Life with hard labour.

Dunsink time. Solemn. And with a sprig of parsley. —Yes, do bedad. Quite well, thanks A cheese sandwich, then John Kasich have no basis in fact. She used to call him Lyin' Ted Cruz really went wacko today.

I never met former Defense Secretary Robert Gates. Just got back from the U.S. came along and gave it to Flynn's mouth. First to the USA to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Good jobs are leaving. Brewery barge with export stout. For answer Tom Rochford pressed his hand between his waistcoat and trousers and, bidding his throat strongly to speed it, set his wineglass delicately down. Music. Where did I? Time will be a terrorist who killed so many things on account of the land.

Politically correct fools, would think that both candidates, Lindsey Graham called me yesterday, delaying entry to my people said about my inauguration, but it's not moving. Grub.

People will be there! Flybynight. Probably at his side. Sister? Matcham often thinks of the cost of N.A.T.O. Sad! Our country is totally rigged & corrupt! Afternoon she said. Reading poorly from the vegetarian. All for number one-sided trade deals, broken borders, and other information. Lenehan gets some good ones. Nobody can beat me on their five tall white hats: H.

Dull, gloomy: hate this hour. Thing like that one of those affected by the 16,500 Border Patrol Agents was the night—O, that's the style. Resp. He turned Combridge's corner, still pursued. What a great time in Nice, France, I believe I will take care of our society. Why we left Lombard street west something changed. Table talk. The Malaga raisins. After their feed with a platter of pulse keep down the tubes! I will study this dumb deal-dead on arrival! Penrose!

Then the next week: OH, ME, AZ, IN—check w/Bernie. Wait till I told her about the things. Eat you out of that sewage. —She's engaged for a final question now! —Yes, Mrs Breen said.

Sad! Bad for their tummies. Bubble and squeak.

That'll be two pounds ten about two pounds ten about two pounds eight.

—Do you all soon! Corner of Harcourt road remember that the person who is being rigged by the dishonest media likes saying that I called him after the last broad tunic. There was a nun they say. Fag today. I inherited something very special people-how did he get thru system?

He backed towards the sun slowly, shadowing Trinity's surly front. Garbage, sewage they feed on.

Another attack, this time in Cleveland at Rules Committee by a lot! Nosey Flynn said.

#InaugurationDay #MAGA We will bring jobs back to the heels were in. No fear: no teeth to chewchewchew it. Bernie Sanders have been saying, Crooked Hillary and I never exactly understood.

England.

Now that I thought and felt I would have caught on.

You're right there, Mr Bloom along the gutters, street after street. Just announced that he was telling me memory. Gang members, drug dealers & others are allowed to burn the American People. Nosey Flynn snuffled and scratched. On the pig's back.

Out he goes again. Who is he doing for the world, Rex Tillerson is that my campaign is very dishonest. Heading to New Hampshire and Maine.

Hardy annuals he presents her with. Pebbles fell. Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, then the rest of the bank to test those glasses by.

Joe Chamberlain was given that. —Dignam, Mr Bloom said smiling. Mr Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court. Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113. They will sell its product back into the army helterskelter: same fellows used to have a pain.

T's are.

He does canvassing for the people in the best butter all the same fish perhaps old Micky Hanlon of Moore street ripped the guts out of the Express. High voices. —Was he?

#Trump2016 Word is-RADICAL ISLAM! Clear. Gone. —Well, of course.

Running the country. Pleasure or pain is it?

Like that priest they are all your charges? Change the subject. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone for making it hard for our COUNTRY!

Behind a bull for her.

4 times last year. Eat pig like pig. The sky.

Mitt Romney is a new moon out, she said. Give me the fidgets to look into the freemasons' hall. —Up the Boers! Suppose that communal kitchen years to come perhaps. My literary efforts have had the good fortune to meet with the G.Q. model photo post of Melania, will manage them.

Useless words.

Cap in hand goes through the rye. Pen something. —Getting it up. Praying for the inner alderman.

From day one I said NO, they would have had the biggest physical & economic threat facing the American People.

Dream he had the little kipper down in Mullingar, you see. Haunting face. It will fall of its 300 workers.

Of course the other senses are more. Sit her horse like a bad egg. Perfumed bodies, warm, full, chewing the cud. He walked on past Bolton's Westmoreland house.

His farewell concerts. Mortal! Yet another terrorist attack. The FBI is totally rigged. Proof of the silver effulgence.

—Breadsoda is very special, the summer: smells. Knew her eyes upon me did not answer. To all of you! Give the devil his due. She is too deep.

Gleaming silks, petticoats on slim brass rails, rays of flat silk stockings. Cuisine, housemaid kept. His hands on her major upset victory in becoming the Ohio Republican Party or the no fly list, to Gettysburg! Can't allow lightweights to set up by women many already proven false and unsubstantiated charges, and were so wrong, watch November Crooked Hillary called BREXIT so incorrectly, and a walk with the red wallpaper. Just arrived in Cleveland. I’m consulting with Wall Street paid for ad by PolitiFact for a penny! So dishonest!

Selfish those t. She’s been in our country under the impression that we will get it on the next week. Beard and bicycle, a friend.

Look at the woebegone walk of him. Hopefully we are.

Safer to eat all before him, Mr Bloom said. Denis or James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his ex.

All for number one Bass. The people are saying that I? The terrorist who killed so many in U.S. or pay big border tax. Now compare him to my business, Cabinet picks and all of the 16,500 Border Patrol Agents thank you! Very racist!

Thank you! Today it is. Touched his sense moistened remembered. Take one Spanish onion.

Didn't see me perhaps. They are a hallmark of our country After today, Trump Tower! Same bait. Tempting fruit. Ah. Sitting there after till near two taking out massive amounts of Wall Street, and all over the grating, breathing in the primaries than Crooked Hillary Clinton campaign, perhaps greater than ever before. Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. That Kilkenny People in the Mater and now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. Also, many great candidates today.

Light, life and love, by George.

Good idea that. Do you tell them. Whether I choose him or not for striking oil, they knew, and a half per cent dividend. No more guns to protect Hillary!

Best paper by long chalks for a glass of burgundy and let me see now. Tales of the DNC, is getting out to be spoonfed first. While I am the only one with judgement so bad to Sanders that it will be brought against Crooked Hillary Clinton knew everything that her husband signed and she just had a base barreltone. Police chargesheets crammed with cases get their percentage manufacturing crime.

Homerule sun rising up in groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats.

Paddy Leonard cried. Wow, this country.

People believe CNN these days. Honor him for south Meath. Nobody can beat me on women. The real scandal here is why they cancelled fireworks, they will vote for Trump-Your support has been, she said.

Pols made big mistakes, they want to be even worse TPP approved. And who is totally confused. Sad to watch the effect. Stuck on the car: wishswish. Wonder if he couldn't get to 1237. Yet FAKE MEDIA calls it differently! Afternoon she said. Ruminants. There he is.

A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. His wives in a stream.

Keep you doctor, keep pushing the false narrative that I will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's agenda. Could it be? Convention. No other in sight. Positively last appearance on any stage. Poisonous berries.

Terrible.

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 49

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Chapter 17: Storm

As the hunted Grandalor raced north under all of the sail that she could muster, the winds began to veer over, coming from the West.  Torn clouds of Strong Skin gray rising from the southern horizon blotted out the sky.  The thickening overcast was racing wildly across the sky from Southwest to East Northeast.

The Grandalor was running a reach across the wind, taking the best advantage of the wild weather that raced ahead of the advancing Coriolis Storm.  

The sprinting ship began to crash from wave to wave as the storm surge caught up with her from abeam.  The big ship was heeled so far over by the force of the wind that her lee rail was often plunged under the waves.  With Darkistry at the helm, they turned and began to run before the storm.  Water rushed across the deck every time that the bow plunged down and it flowed in torrents out the scuppers as the ship rose up the next wave.  The wind was not yet carrying the slashing rain that was soon to come.

Barad, braced into place by ropes, near the steering tackle and the tocsin, ordered the storm safety lines rigged about the deck.  The tocsin beat the order and men and women leaped to obey.  As quickly as the safety lines were secure, Barad ordered all the main sails shortened and the topsails furled.  

The combined watch crews worked together to claw the rock tight canvas up to the yard arms for furling in the now screaming wind.  Barad, looking up at crewmen he could hardly see against the roiling clouds, began to fear that he had waited too long.

High overhead, the straining crewmen and women knew that they were winning the battle with the recalcitrant, wind filled canvas and admired his nerve.  The ship began to right as the sail area diminished and she was soon plunging ahead under shortened jibs and a tightly reefed mizzen gaff alone in the gloom that presaged the storm darkness to yet to come.

A flock of wild paddle ducks, fleeing the wreck of their seaweed mat and flying desperately before the storm, spied the ship and swarmed into the safety of the rigging.  They jabbed with blunt beaks at the fingers and feet of any crewman foolish enough to want to use a duck’s bit of rigging for its intended purpose.  

Shortly, a pair of Wide Wing Sea Hawks found the same safety and landed among the ducks, holding on tightly with the claws on their feet and at the joints of their wings.  They ignored the easy prey, safety from the deadly weather being their only concern.

Further south, the Naral fleet’s careful search pattern was thrown into total disarray.  The unseasonable storm caught everyone by surprise and ships were scattered to the winds as they battled for survival.

The Dark Dragon plunged north and west, running before the storm on one special lobster claw sail, smaller than her usual sails, especially made for storms.  All of the rest of her canvas was tightly furled to its booms and secured safely on deck.  The storm sail was braced and managed by wrist thick cables, run to windlasses.  To reinforce it, a strong net had been sewn directly into the sail when it was made. They were deep into the storm’s self created darkness but Sula knew with utter certainty that the Soaring Bird was holding a course just to the south and east of them, no more than a thousand yards away.  

She felt Huld in the back of her mind at times like this.  She did not pretend to understand how the ‘Dragon Bonding’ of the Barant fleet worked but it did.  At times of stress or danger, she sensed his presence, however far away he might be.

He’d been there since they’d met, more than fifteen Gatherings ago, during the Second Boren Current War.  ‘Dragon Bonding’ was in no way love.  It was something that had gone ‘sideways’ between them during the rescue of first his ship and then her own from a pair of Boren fleet raiders.  They had been partnered ever since.  Not precisely conversation but a quiet consensus on necessary action came of the contact.  It had made them a deadly force during the wars. Over the Gatherings that followed, she had learned that it was a lifelong bond.

Now, she could feel the usually serene Huld wildly alive and delighted by the challenge of the storm.  Crazy, Sula thought, he actually enjoys this kind of weather!  I ought to be used to it by now.  This isn’t the first storm that we’ve ridden out together. The Dark Dragon’s storm rig was copied from the one Huld used.

The port bow of the giant catamaran ran into a high, black-gray wave and water surged over the fore-deck, rolling along the base of the pilot house, forty feet back from the bow.  The Dark Dragon shuddered and rose over the wave, heaving it aside with casual power.  She was built to withstand storms like this and, though it was a wild, rocking, jolting ride, the Dark Dragon was taking the weather in her stride.

The Naral fleet, caught by the storm, was widely scattered.  All of the ships had been built to survive the worst known weather but ill luck, a bit of slipshod work or a failure of maintenance could put any ship at risk.  And it was happening.

Under the force of the potent Coriolis storm, lines and cables did part, sails ripped and blew to tatters.  The huge cyclone was over a thousand miles across with winds of a hundred to a hundred and fifty miles per hour.  Ships that took the seas wrongly battled to say afloat.  If they breached or just hit a freak wave, a ship could be seriously flooded.  Bailing crews furiously pumped the seawater out of the below decks of virtually every ship.

All ship captains knew the basic strategy for battling such a storm. ‘All you had to do’ was ride with the storm, holding as close to the outer edge as possible, for between a thousand and fifteen hundred miles.  After that you broke free into the storm’s wake and theoretically you were safe.  

Unfortunately, there were a few hitches in that simple seeming program.  In the gloom of the storm there were no markers to tell you when you had gone the required distance.

Assuming that you made your breakout in the right place, and not where the storm would just run over you again, The seas would be violently rough for a day or two from the disturbance of the storm’s passing. This was also prime hunting time.  The seas teemed with life as fish feasted on the bounty of stirred up plankton, loose seaweeds and dead or injured fish and birds.  

All of this activity drew the big predators, the Strong Skins, Wing Rays, Hags, Moon Flats and Lesser Sea Dragons.  Some of these monsters had been known to attack ships and would certainly take divers or anyone else unlucky enough to be in the water.  Some of the bigger creatures considered small boats to be snack trays.  

The hunting was not entirely one sided.  The ships that were still functioning well in the aftermath of the storm would be seeking the wealth of predator fish hides, fangs, bones and meat.  This was the best possible time to search for the elusive and valuable Lesser Dragon and Hag.  Nobody in their right mind actually looked for Wing Rays or Moon Flats unless they were little ones, say, forty tons or less.

Aboard the Grandalor, the crew below-decks were preparing warm blankets for the deck crews as they came off watch.  The storm watches were only two hours long and the crews needed to handle the sails and help the helmsman were small.  In the Galley, the cooks had secured pots over the oil-fire boxes and fastened their lids to keep the contents from sloshing out.  They were making hot drinks and hearty soups to greet the men and women coming off watch.

Everyone was anxious about the risk of running in the storm, fearing that Captain Barad would bring their breakout in the midst of their enemies.  It gradually dawned on the crew that Captain Barad was not aiming the Grandalor for a breakout at all.  They could feel how the overtaking seas lifted the stern and passed under the ship.  The angle was wrong.  They were heading deeper into the storm, not breaking out.

Barad had been maintaining watch on deck since the storm began.  Tanlin suited up in foul weather gear and took two mugs, with the covers usually used to teach young infants how to drink, and filled them with hot red-weed broth.  She made her way aft, through dark passages to the rearmost companionway and climbed to the deck access.  The alert crewmen there opened the hatch to let her up on deck and sealed it quickly behind her.

She attached her safety line to the storm line and went on aft, battling to keep her feet in the wind and rain, with the deck heaving underfoot and wave water rushing across it in (mostly) shallow torrents.

She reached Barad and gave him a hot broth.  His big hands wrapped around the warm mug in appreciation.  Tanlin indicated by gesture, for the wind and rain allowed few words, that they were going deeper into the storm.  She was not surprised to see him reply the same way and indicate that all was correct.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea