#dying light 2 bloody ties
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mattsgracie · 10 days ago
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watching the world from the sidelines
july 13, 2011.
chris was 7 when he first saw you down by the lakes. he had been running in the wisteria filled fields with his brothers careless, their laughter making the atmosphere more whimsical and light. chris was having a good time before he tripped on a weed and went tumbling down a small hill, destroying little dandelions in his way. 
chris got up with a small whine, his knees scraped and slightly bloody. you watched the boy tumble down, a small giggle leaving your lips. the boy was a bit taller than you, “are you okay?” you asked. chris’ face flushed red at the embarrassment of having someone watch his tumble. but he took in a deep breath and puffed out his chest, his arms crossed against it to make him seem tougher than he was. “i’m perfectly okay.” he said, his lips in a thin line. you had two braids, tied with an orange ribbon, orange like the sunset. and your dress had the same flowers as the field did. 
you only nodded but your smile never left your lips, “hold old are you?” you asked him, “i’m six.” you held up six fingers. “i’m seven.” chris said, dropping his arms. “what’re you doing here alone?” 
you frowned slightly before shrugging, “i like it here. it's calming. it’s away from the noise.” 
now it was chris’ turn to frown, the noise? you were six, what noise could bug you that much you were at the lakes to get away? he almost opened up his mouth to ask you what you meant but turned his head towards the sound of his brothers voice calling out for him, “i have to go. my brother is calling me.” he turned back to you, “bye.” he waved before running back up the hill. he didn't look behind him but you didn't leave his thoughts. you were strange, he needed to know you more. 
“guys!” chris called to his brothers, catching up to them, on his right was his older brother (by 2 minutes!) matt. on his left was his oldest brother (by 4 minutes!) nick. 
he brought you up, saying how he didn't know anyone else lived in the town besides their summer house. his brothers didn't seem to care much, only shrugging before matt showed him a bunny he had found.
you watched as they left the fields, walking down the gravely path to the house at the end before returning to your own home. 
as you walked into your home you felt the cold chill the greyed house always made you feel. you missed the warm tangerine rays of the sun. you slowly made your way up to your room, sitting on your made bed, the princess sheets clean and delicate, cinderella printed all over it. your mother always made sure your room was clean, but your toys where you’d play left untouched. 
you closed your eyes and began to drift asleep, the boy in the field a faint memory in your dreams, bringing you warmth.
october 25th, 2015.
a few years had gone by, you and chris had become friends slowly, it took awhile for the boy to open up to you but once he did he was like the sun, always keeping you warmer than the summer sun. 
you had grown tired of hearing your dad yell at your mom, the noise only got louder and louder in your years that were always too delicate. you tried to intervene but your father could never hear you no matter what you did. your hands covering your ears couldn't do much to drown out your mothers sobs. you grabbed your sweater and headed to the lakes. the ones that brought you the peace you always needed since you were so young. 
you missed the summer boy, the autumn air only brought more cold than you needed. you sighed sitting down on the wooden bench, the wisteria was dying out- the cold killing them only to make a space for the snowflakes to make a home. 
your home was beautiful in the fall, the many different colored leaves against the purple flowers giving you inspiration for your drawings. you never took them home though. you grabbed your sketchbook from the basket next to you that you always kept here, and you began to draw. 
“nice drawing.” you froze in place, the voice sounding too familiar. when the boy came into view you realized why, it was your summer sun. but it wasn't summer? “it's not summer.” you stated. 
chris laughed, “no. we just came to visit for a week. my moms got a job opportunity in the school! we might move here permanently.” 
it should've made you excited but it didn't but still, you forced a smile on your lips, “really?” you asked. chris took a seat on the bench next to you, suddenly it was a lot warmer. “yes! which means we wouldn't just be summer friends! i’d be here all year round!” 
summer sun, all year round. now you were happy, your smile only widening, “i hope she gets it.” 
“me too.” 
you fell into a comfortable silence, content with just listening to chris talk to you as you drew the landscape in front of you. 
may 17th, 2018. 
the fighting had stopped at home, when you would get back from sitting by the lakes you would see your father with bags under his eyes, you had gotten a little brother in those 3 years. 
chris’ mom got the job. your summer sun was year round, until he stopped hanging out with you cause his brothers called you his 'imaginary girlfriend.’ he changed over the years, his golden hair that reminded you of the sun turning brown like the wisteria did in the winter. you still remember the talk, the one that left you broken hearted at thirteen. now your summer sun was just a distant memory.
your little brother was crying and you were trying to soothe him, but it wouldn't work. you heard the footsteps of your mother rushing into the room, you moved to the side and watched as she soothed your brother, his cries dying down as her warmth enveloped him and the room. but you still felt cold. 
when she put him back down you didn't leave until you deemed him asleep enough. 
you let your feet carry you, down to the lakes. 
the wisteria was starting to bloom again and the spring moon lit them up perfectly. you looked at the sketchbook beside your feet- you hadn't drawn in months. but something about tonight- it made you want to start. 
you looked out at the lakes, the one that no matter how much the years changed the people around you, never changed. 
you drew and you drew, for hours. 
“daisy?” you felt someone shift you, you opened your eyes, only to be met with eyes as blue as the sky. you slightly moved back as you looked around- oh. you fell asleep on the bench.
you looked back at chris, his brows furrowed, “are you okay?” he asked. 
you didn't answer, putting your sketchbook back in it's place in the basket. “i should go. my moms gonna freak.” was all you said to him, you watched as he frowned and you could've sworn the morning sun dimmed with it. but you only got off the bench and walked away. 
august 11th, 2020. 
you and chris found each other again last summer. you thought it was some sick joke, but for your 14th birthday chris showed up with a basket of flowers and colored pencils. he went through your sketches and found the one of him you did the very first night you met him. 
you sighed and let him back into your life. 
that's how you ended up here now, breathless and under the moonlight after a long night of swimming in the lake. you were both looking up at the stars, his arms around you like he was shielding you from the cold- and he might as well have. you felt insanely warm, just like that first summer. 
while his eyes were on the stars yours moved to him, you always liked the day better anyway. your cheeks flushed when he caught you staring. “sorry.” you whispered. he responded with shaking his head, his hands moving a hair that strayed from your braid, “you can look all y’want daisy.” he said, his smooth voice only making the butterflies in your stomach worse. 
you didn't know what possessed you, if anything did. but you leaned closer until chris finally broke that little distance. his lips moving against ours like a dance he always knew the moves to. chris kissed you like he wanted to steal your breath away. in a way he did. 
your breaths wheezy as you pulled away, and he only wore that boyish smirk on his lips. smug bastard. “not bad for a first kiss huh?” you rolled your eyes, your cheeks red as you pushed him away from you, down the same hill he went tumbling down when he first met you, but you went tumbling with him this time, your laughs and giggles mixed with his echoing.
october 11th, 2020.
chris didn't want anything serious. he sure made that clear when you saw him with another girl in the spot reserved for the both of you. you could only watch from a distance. there wasn't much you could do. 
you wiped your eyes as you made your way up to your room. it hasn't changed, the cinderella sheets stay on your bed, your dolls now put away. 
you could only watch as your little brother, now able to walk clumsily and babble out some coherent words exploring your room with a new found curiosity. you rolled over in your bed to look at him. your father trailing after him, “no cedar! don't touch that!” you winced slightly at your fathers tone, watching as he carefully moved your brother away from your dollhouse, and your fathers shaky hands placing the doll back in the same exact spot. “that's your sisters.” your father picked up your brother, and he peeked over at you over his shoulder, you waved to him, earning yourself a giggle and wave back. 
you smiled, at least that's one boy that would never let you down. but you couldn't really blame chris, the girl he was with seemed so much more interesting than you. she didn't look like she spent her nights sitting by a lake and drawing whatever. 
you closed your eyes, and hoped. 
december 24th 2022.
it had been two years of no summer sun. your mom was busy for christmas eve, wrapping gifts for the family and cooking. but she had fallen asleep and you took it upon yourself to finish up what you could for her. setting cookies out for santa and eating it, the milk and ‘snow.’ 
you looked at the gifts for cedar under the tree and you smiled. he was gonna be so happy.
chris had tried to speak to you a few times, but you ignored him, leaving the bench and shutting out the sun. 
you grabbed your sketchbook that you had started to bring into the house now, drawing the cozy image of your family sleeping. 
after you finished drawing you made your way down to the frozen lake, placing the sketchbook down in your lap as the snow hit your cheeks. but it never changed how cold you felt. 
“daisy,” you heard a broken voice call out to you. you turned to face it. there stood chris, out on christmas eve, 4 in the morning and tears streaming down his cheeks. 
he didn't look like the summer sun anymore, his features were harsh, the tears staining his pale skin making him look like a thunderstorm. you felt bad, bad enough that you wrapped your arms around the boy, chris couldn't say anything more as he just broke down into tears on your shoulder. 
you didn't know what was going on with him, but you couldn't leave him out here in the cold, so you snuck him into your house, into your room. “you don't have to talk about it.” you said, handing him hot chocolate. 
you looked at chris, 19 looked good on him, he was growing. chris looked up at you, and you saw it all, the guilt and heartbreak. you sighed, looking down at your own cup. you’d take a sip, but it was 4:30 am. and you didn't want a stomachache. 
“i just need a few minutes with you, please.” his voice sounded small and desperate, and you nodded, sitting next to him on your bed. 
“i’m not crying over a girl.” he said, “my parents- they want to split. i heard them talking.” he wiped a tear from his eyes, “i don't know what to do- if to tell my brothers-” you put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “that's not up to you. that’s your parents responsibility. but for now, focus on dealing with the news yourself. okay?”
chris nodded, looking back at you, “thank you.” he said. “i’ll always be here.” you said.
it wasn't an uncomfortable silence that fell over you both.
chris left shortly after, not before watching as you shut off all the lights in your house except for the christmas lights. he watched as you walked around your room from outside, a small smile on his lips. 
june 20th, 2024.
19. wow. you felt big. you looked around at the summer fields, it never changed, not like you. 
chris moved to LA with his brothers after his parents split. chasing some dream with them and you always saw him in the summer. you were excited, finally able to see your friend. 
your brother had gotten even bigger, he started school next year and he was growing up the way you never got to, in a quiet warm house.
the summer sun was already heating up your home, but your room stayed cold. you looked at the childhood toys that never went untouched, the dolls that were starting to collect a thicker layer of dust. 
you watched as your mom walked into your room, shutting the door behind her, how you wish you could hug her in this moment as you saw her eyes well up with tears. 
but you couldn't do much, but you still hugged her, her deep breath as she felt the air shift making her tears stop slightly. when you pulled away she walked out of the room, the light staying off, and the door closed. 
you found yourself at the lakes again, “daisy!” you turned around, and you were almost breathless. chris looked.. stunning. a backward navy blue hat on him. 
you waved at him, and he came running down the hill to you, his arms wrapping around you like you were the only thing he ever needed, and in a way you were.
“i have to tell you about it all!” he exclaimed, and you sat on the bench and like always, listened to him. his head in your lap, as you toyed with his hair. 
october 31st, 2024.
you never wanted it to happen this way, you wanted to tell him on your own terms. not by him figuring it out. 
you were by the lakes, chris standing right across from him, his eyes filled with tears as he cried. “you were never going to tell me daisy, were you?” he rasped, you shook your head. 
your own tears falling from your eyes, but you had no right to cry, “no, i’m sorry.” you breathed. chris couldn't help it, turning away from you and walking up the hill, you let out a shaky breath, sitting against the tree as you tried to keep yourself grounded. the secret was out now. you were able to catch the way his brothers embraced him, not really knowing why their youngest triplet was crying so much.
november 25th, 2024.
“i know you're here daisy. you can't leave. stop ignoring me!” chris’ voice carried over the field. “i just want to talk to you.” 
you only sighed, making your presence known by sitting on the bench, “sunshine.” you said, “been right here.” you snorted. chris looked a bit startled but sat next to you, “i’m sorry, i shouldn't have blown up on you like that-” 
“it's okay. not many people have a positive reaction to find out they’ve been seeing a ghost.” chris’ eyes narrowed into a glare, “stop making jokes. please.” you cleared your throat, “sorry.” you said. 
chris paused, a silent beat passing over you both. “when did you-?” 
“i died when i was five. drowned in the lakes.” you answered his unspoken question. his breath hitching. 
“why can i only see you?” he asked to which you shrugged, “i have no idea.” 
chris looked up at you, “can't believe i have a ghost girlfriend.” he snorted. you rolled your eyes, “only you, sunshine. only you.”
july 13, 2030.
chris was getting married, and you were helping him. sitting in your spot by the lakes, by the bench. helping him remember all his vows.
“it would've been you daisy, if i could've.” he finally said.
“i know chris. i know.” you smiled sadly at him before turning him around, pushing him towards the church.
when chris looked back, he saw it. the way the daisies flew in the wind as you were no longer there, just your lingering memory and the lakes you loved so much. he fixed the cuffs of his shirt, the daisy tattoo on his wrist burning his skin even though the ink had healed. 
a/n: here's a little thing i thought of randomly
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jobean12-blog · 10 months ago
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A Warrior's Heart
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader (Pedro Pascal's character in gladiator 2)
Word Count: 823
Summary: The general comes home from battle and knows exactly what he needs.
Author's Note: So I saw the new photo of Pedro from Gladiator 2 today. I couldn't stop myself. I'm not even sure that Marcus is definitely his name in the movie but I think I made it work. Also, I apologize if any of the dialogue doesn't fit-I haven't written many period pieces. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 😘
**There are no spoilers of course- I just went with my own brain here and made shit up haha. I tagged some friends but please if you're not into it never worry, I understand! 💕
Warnings: talk of battle, tiny mention of blood, spiciness and softness
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Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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The enormous wooden doors swing open, and the dying light of the sun reveals a dark silhouette that pulls a rush of breath from your lungs.
He takes a step inside, the heavy footfall of his boots echoing in the emptiness of the hall. His dark hair is disheveled, and curls hang over his forehead even after he runs his hand over his head.
His armor is battered and bloodied and his skin is littered with scrapes and cuts that still bleed.
“My General,” you whisper, pressing a shaky hand to your trembling lips.
With clear eyes he finds you and takes two long strides to meet you in the middle of the hall. You slowly lift your hand and gently trace your fingertips along his beard before they touch his lips.
He grabs your wrist and closes his eyes, pressing his lips to each fingertip and then your palm.
“My love,” he murmurs as he sharply tugs you against his body and his eyes fall to your mouth.
The brush of his lips is all you feel before a throat clears and you’re pulled from the moment.
“General.”
He tears his eyes away from you and looks up.
“I’d like a report,” the King states.
You press yourself closer and lay your head along his shoulder, instinctively inhaling the scent of his skin.
“After,” Marcus says gruffly. “I’m in need of…my wife.”
With those final words he presses his hand to your lower back and escorts you out of the hall.
When you reach your shared chambers, he ushers you inside and closes the door, locking it and turning to face you as you stand in the middle of the room.
His eyes wander languidly down every inch of you, and a shiver of anticipation runs down your spine.
“Are you hurt General?”
The question is a whisper and when he fills the space in front of you and cradles your cheek in his hand you lean into his touch, your eyes shining.
“No, my love,” he answers. “But the blaze of battle still runs hot through my veins.”
His eyes are dark and intense, and you fully understand the meaning of his words. It heats your skin, and you know he’ll find you ready and wanting.
Your movements are graceful when you run a finger down his chest and carefully pull at the leather tied along his sides. They loosen and soften under your touch and loop by loop you free him of this cuirass.
You pay special attention to his gorget, relishing each turn as you unwrap the linen and reveal more of his neck. You place a soft kiss just under his jaw, tasting the saltiness of his skin before your mouth moves lower.
He swallows and you can feel the cords of muscle in his throat flex. You smile into his skin and drop your hands to gather his shirt at the hem.
When he is left in nothing but his pants you step back and let your eyes assess.
“Do you deem me fit enough to take you?” he asks with just a hint of teasing.
The corner of your lips lift and you push the shawl from your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet.
Your fingers reach for the wrap at your waist, but he steps forward and takes it from your hands.
His eyes, though still alight with fire, soften at the edges. “Each time it is like unwrapping the most beautiful gift.”
You drop your hands and fill your lungs with a slow inhale, your breath quickening as his hand traces over every curve he uncovers.
Now his gaze burns with nothing but desire and his jaw is tight with restraint.
“Wife,” he growls, looking his fill. “You would tempt a blind man with your beauty.”
Your smile is saccharine, though your words are anything but.
“How will you have me General?” you purr as you press your bare skin against him.
He hums low and deep, wrapping you in his arms and walking you backward toward the bed.
“First,” he whispers along your neck, “I will taste every part of this silky skin.”
His lips trail down your throat and across your collarbone. When they reach your shoulder, his fingers follow and smooth over the soft slope before dropping to massage your breast.
“Then I will taste the honey between your legs.”
His mouth moves lower, his warm breath teasing your nipple before his lips close around it.
Your fingers delve into his hair, threading through the mess of curls until he groans out your name.
“And then?” you ask in a breathless whisper.
He looks up, dark lashes lowered, and his tongue traces his lips. “Then,” he murmurs, “I will fill you so completely you will know nothing other than the feel of me for days to come. Every step you take will be a reminder of who you belong to.
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@lizette50 @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @tripletstephaniescp
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selfspinninglies · 6 months ago
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ok hi @aureoberlinerinn and the rest of tumblr i guess. My Death Note Honey I'm Home [Ghost and Pals] animatic concept thang that I probably wont make. I'm going lyric by lyric on this so it's going under the cut. Also just in case huge gigantic neon sign spoiler warning for so much of dn
opening instrumental: [not in order of where i would put them] bits of the shinigami realm, the death note falling into the human world, Misa's stalker dying, the death note in the grass [events that are catalysts essentially]
Father said that this world isn't for me/I tried to pray for a new reality: Light reminscing about how terrible the world/people is/are, shots of random people doing things
So come to me: Light seeing the death note fall/picking it up
We can change night into day: shots of the first 2 people Light kills, him realizing what he could do with it, him with a halo or something like that + red bg
A tied up moth: L logo on laptop in the international conference thing [presumably because im not drawing that hypothetically. Too many people]
Seemed to know a different way: closeup on L's face [blue background]
(Don't remember it/don't return to it): Light looking horrified when he first uses the death note
Oh, father tore out the umbilical cord: shot of a graveyard/funeral maybe, i cant think of anything else to be honest
There's nothing left/in the bottle keeping me scored: people dying, empty bowl of some sort of candies with [assumedly] L's hand above it, Light throwing an apple
We'll abandon the scenery in the: idk really, my first thought is Misa walking with Rem and a shot of bloody hands [Light's] but idk im flexible on that
(Dont remember it/don't return to it): Misa eye closeup [shinigami flavor], her holding the death note, dead bodies that are assumedly her parents [also unsure about this one]
Rear view mirror: i honestly have no idea
A petty line of white noise: Light getting pissed at Lind L. Tailor
Pack up your bags: Lind L. Tailor dying/Light laughing about it
And throw out the toys: L logo showing up, you know how that scene goes
Three strikes and "honey i'm home": Light intially seeing L, cut to gay tennis game
Three voices come from the gramophone: L and Light beind blue and red [i have a better image for this in my head but i cant explain it well], eyes in the background of the opposite color looking at them [blue for Light, Red for L if my phrasing was weird], flashes of different scenes through gra-mo-phone [syllables because they indicate scene change]
A vivisection of me: Light pinned like he's a bug getting taxidermied
Yielded the start of a mystery: hands above Light, camera pans up during my-ster-y to show that its L's hands [you would see his face]
Say "hello! Honey I'm home!": Light walking into the task force hotel but he doesnt have a full face and it's just a smile [red] [does this make sense]
Three voices come from the gramophone: L, Light, and Misa normally but on gra-mo-phone they change [Light has red eyes and looks evil™️ (idk how else to say it) holding the death note, Misa has shinigami eyes, and L's eyes are blue because idk what else to do with him here el oh el]
God returned with the moth chained to his hand: Misa with Light in some way
There's so many things that you'll never understand: Kira follower riot thing you get it
So come to me/we can change night into day: Light getting put into confinement + losing his memories, when night into day is said it shows glimpses of his normal life/memories from that time compared to his cell now
You'll hold my hand so you'll never go astray: L and Light in chains together [i have specific visuals for this that i cant really explain], a few eyes in the background again but theyre all looking at Light this time
(God devoured that of father): either Light getting the death note back and his expressions slowly changing as he gains back his memory or lawlight cannibalism. I cannot decide
A spider preaching with poison on its lips: Takada talking about Kira
To get out of here is to promise me a kiss: Light lying and looking pretty about it [i have visuals in my head that i cant articulate] or alternatively lawlight kiss. Many such cases
We'll abandon the scenery in the/mind of mother: Light + Misa fake execution is all i can think of to put here idk
(Dont remember it dont return to it): memory-less Light scenes
So with advice of the dead/and a halo over my head: Light with Mello, L, and Soichiro in the bg behind him [because they were all trying to catch him + died] and he has a halo again but when the beat drops it cracks and he looks horrified and theyre all looking at him
At last "honey I'm home!"/three voices come all alone: yellow box scene stuff
A vivisection of me/done by god for all to see: L death scene [kind of] but hes in a similar position to Light when he was being bug taxidermied but Light is vivisecting him and theres eyes in the bg again [red] also on "for all to see" it zooms in on Light's eyes then face and he smiles but evil™️
Say "hello! honey I'm home!": cut back to yellow box, Light does his Kira monologue
Three voices come all alone: zoom out of the scene, on "a-all a-lone" it closes up on Near, Matsuda, and Mikami, then Light but its framed so it looks like Light is completely alone
A vivisection of me/done by god for all to see: Light gettng shot + running away, past his younger self [anime ref you get it] + flashes of Light's life before the death note/Kira contrasted with his current situation between the gaps of the vocal interlude and the lyrics
A vivisection of me/done by god for all to see: Light dying on the staircase, hallucinating L you get it
Closing instrumental: [not in order] aftermath stuff like Misa walking + dying, the Kira cult, members of the task force, Minoru getting the death note, Sayu + Sachiko
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waxing-hiraethh · 1 year ago
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Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale
2. count the ribs
A year after the war, he began to go to church.
His mind was quiet there between the pews and the traditions and the evil that seemed to cling to every surface. The holy water which may have once made him flinch only served as a blade with which he sliced into himself, spilling out onto the cobbled floors.
London was empty, when you took all of the people out of it.
It was nothingness tied up in a tattered bow, presenting itself to the world as special when it was really the opposite. He sat in St James Cathedral and imagined his parents were sitting on either side of him, sandwiching him in something warm and uncomplicated.
He stuck the prayer books when they came on his desk. He impulsively bought a computer from a store he’d passed by. It’d had impossibly large windows with flashing screens in all sorts of colours. It sat on his desk, untouched, for months.
At night, the ocean sunk into him. He made sure to blink away the salt when he woke up.
Ron came, sometimes. Usually he brought fire whiskey and they drank by the fire, talking about nothing important at all.
“It’s bloody sweltering,” Ron would complain. Harry kept the hearths lit at all times; it was the comparable evil to being cold, freezing, sinking further into the deep as his lungs tried to expel water, as his limbs burned and the light slipped to a pin prick- 
They’d drink until Harry grew snappy and Ron got tired of walking on eggshells.
One night, before he slipped through the Floo and back to the Burrow, he’d hugged Harry so hard his lungs had expelled all of their air and he'd almost screamed in agony at the sensation until Ron loosened up, turning his face to be in line with his own.
“Did you know Draco’s started some kind of business?” he said, still clutching at Harry’s horribly overgrown hair.
The columns, the cold, the shock of white.
“I don’t care,” he muttered and did not smile when Ron waved him goodbye.
He didn’t care about much those days. At least that was what Hermione would tell him when they went out for lunch. Most foods he couldn’t stomach anymore, but he tried for her. There was something in the act of dying which did not lend itself well to the act of living.
He went to church. He prayed. He tried to believe in God. He stared at the ceiling of St James and brushed his eyes over the vaults in the ceiling. Each arch curved perfectly, dividing the thunderous roof into manageable portions.
His desk was full of dusty prayer books and pointless electronics, and the cold always came, no matter how hot the hearths.
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unrealgold · 2 years ago
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A good time for jazz music.
A rush of air filled the man’s lungs as he bolted upright. Clasping at his chest in sheer panic as he was stricken with gnawing fear. The kind that turns you into a ghastly ghostly pale. The kind when you know there is no way back. He quickly tried to steady his breath using those exercises he had been taught way back when he thought the therapy was helping him. Deep breath, 1…2…3 and release. After a couple seconds of doing this, he returned to his usual dull and boring self. Removing the sleep from his eyes, the man tried to sit up properly. He couldn’t. There was nothing here: no walls, no roof, no bed. Just an empty and blank void staring back at him. No light to be seen anywhere as if he had plunged beneath the waves, never to resurface. With a thousand yard stare plastered onto his pale face, he just aimlessly took in what he was seeing or rather, not seeing. “What the fuck.” He quite bluntly stated. 
Now with the realization that he was, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere, it occurred to him that he wasn’t exactly sitting on anything. He felt himself slip and his heart drop as his mind finally caught up to the fact that no, he was not sitting on his bed back at home but rather floating in an inky abyss. Suddenly, like that of a trapped animal, he started scrambling around  in an attempt to get a grip on something, anything! He looked down at his own shirt, it was choking. Wrapping its wretched cloth hands around his neck. The vile beast!. Right before he was about to tear the bloody thing off like a valiant warrior, a voice called out. “Do stop Sir.” It continued. “You are making a fool of yourself.” The tsunami of nausea that had tried to consume the man ceased, brought to an ever more manageable puddle. In an attempt to locate the voice, the man tried looking around before his eyes finally settled on a figure in a pretty white chair with a floral pattern on the back. The thing sitting in said chair was wearing a garish purple suit, it would never fit any combination of shoes or hats or ties or person. The man let out the briefest of chuckles at the suit before trying to see the man's face. It was odd. He knew there was a face but he just couldn’t comprehend it. It was more like a fuzzy blur than a face, as if somebody had just thrown water in his eyes, and it gave him a headache if he stared too long. “Are you done now, Sir?” the voice sounded disapproving but in a sad way if anything. Nonetheless though, the voice was calming like honey for the ears. “Yea..yea..” The man stammered. “I am good now, thanks…”
“Jolly good!” The voice continued. “Y’know, Sir, I find absurdism to be good in these situations..”
“What?” A baffled man now spoke back. “I am sorry mate but being…well here… is already nuts enough.”
“True that, Sir!” The voice cackled in delight. “Do come take a seat.” Without blinking, the man was suddenly thrust into the other chair beside the purple suited thing. An odd feeling overcame the man, it was like he was always in that chair. “I do apologize about the condition of the chair, Sir..” It stated. “Care for some tea?”
“Yea, sure whatever..” Now that it had been brought to his attention, the man's endless gaze was brought to the chair. There was nothing wrong with the chair! It was perfectly fine and if anything, it was an insult that the man was sitting in such a perfect chair. It was like a fly sitting on the throne! The man furrowed his brow with his clammy hand, his headache was getting worse now.
“So you care to explain what the hell this is?” He spoke up and the Thing seemed to revert its gaze(?) to the man. 
“Oh dear me.” It continued. “I am sorry, Sir but you are my 100,101 visitor today and I seem to have forgotten protocol.”
“Uh-huh..” The man leaned slightly back in  his chair.
“You see, you are dying, Sir.” It replied solemnly. 
The man was dazed, as if he had been hit over the head. “That can’t be right!”
“I am still breathing and thinking!”
A deep sigh emerged from the thing. “Sir, have you blinked once?”
“I-” He paused and then attempted to blink, he couldn’t despite his frustrations. In a desperate vain, he attempted to force his eyes to shut with his hands but they refused to budge. 
“But..but I can’t be dying!” The man protested. “I was just starting to get better!”
“I know, Sir.” A deep sigh came from the Thing. “You are the 80th person today to say such a thing..”
“Well then where the fuck am I?!” 
“Well I said you were dying, Sir, not dead.” It continued. “This is a limbo of sorts..”
 The man sighed. “So what now..is there truly nothing I can do?”
“Normally no and I am very sorry this is happening to you but…well…it was inevitable.” 
Head in his hands, the man was afraid. He didn’t want to face that cold and cruel end. Did he not do enough? Had he not tried! Examining the very chair that he sat upon, he realized that the once pretty floral pattern that encased the whole thing was wicked. The pretty flowers depicted were now faltering and white steel had settled on a muddy gray. On the verge of tears the man almost stopped breathing when the Thing spoke up “You know what I think, Sir?”
“What?”
“I think it is a good time for jazz music.” 
And the man laughed.
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libidomechanica · 4 months ago
Text
And she replied: I am your eyes can in good eawes be made
A sonnet sequence
               1
My bright for ever. And she replied: I am your eyes can in good eawes be made. To this worlds rare wonder. Though greater scath, to sport my dayes I know no Grief but in the vulgar mass called out lykewise loue theyr decay, and hauing note do sing: whose rancid dreams; my soul and strongly hedg’d of bloody crusades, knew to be mowne. What lovely tints are tears. Lyke sacred Empresse therefore and clear, when I think that then is gall, is fancy’s spring comb, as inward selfe again, mix not mean enough for thee wit, better foode relide. But we by a love- sick tale, but, ’tis na love or awe, the soothed.
               2
Will sure! Me stung and oath and hold in louers make. Force and gentle breezes make so many now must go: I dare resembling Pricket, or hunt the Rose, but how it seemes, as ancient rosaries, laborious magnanimity of so fair; the last, alone sinks down on his nest, some say, and wept. Th’ street to take the water. The most new babies, as ugly as a wart. Was mischiefe praised dripping out of hers your pardon for thy deerest relicks to beguil’d; by various arts of life with shapes partake, effect but like the germ. Who fondly lov’d us; nay more, one please nomore, onely rich in mind of the threatens all with man who has loved you for all men’s love, who like a star in highest: wink at our pot of hopes, and keepes her error like poor mans wealth, the plain she fled. In a pool of verse vowd to eternize, but looking out of pride, spread like a hornet’s nest.
               3
Plain sae rashy, O! Thus doth not the heauen matchable to nought her looke, my soul and God-filled, white robes grace to looke. Sometimes I’d rather and chaunge eeke our mynds enur’d to hastened all that wont with gentle Bee within. Winter is cramm’d with Science; otherwhere pure sport; a herd-maid gay; who laid about her in her woman is tied to grace the patch. More pliant, and drivers rage was rauisht with my telescope, to view: but his brains, how ye doe stare henceforth I did eat. My faltering hole. To rail at Lady Psyche thieves in the gentle verse, which my lost the sun; the people call a bee.
               4
Be wise as those haruest hope of new color, visible friends, and converse of kynd. Kleenex, that in my yellow’d with thee and all, severed party to the hyghest stayre fals lowest: for one wide desert roam; till many a wishfull blood clene washt from the mountain-top, can this flesh repose on aught founde? And in red and gnarled. Look not there the lilies fair day for ten long years as those were: not ayre; for she I was sent: it dried her and they had to do like hard life, though the frogs were green fields with a haughtier smile at the plain sae rashy, O, aboon the moment, playing him that all lyke dying.
               5
Is done; take the Spyder that hastened the long for the night hand now fancies wonder what you use the begins. From the imprisoners release, how cross, his life’s flow, and the wakeful doze I sorrow, the day. As hopeless, yet resign’d. Approaching theefe! That I of doubted daungerous rocks grow everywhere, Stella hath refuse to that: whom she drags in tow. Tis now some two arms; the garden lawn: and whisper at this ever- diverse pair! And in hand the birth of heauenly spheare so since a body was force, but hardly had skill can my flames of the good will, to sing my Highland lassie, O.
               6
And changes like a dog in a kitchen. And blesse, though enjoyed, like a dog in a kennel. And ever be who make admyre, breaking with pitty on my lovely as a winter reckon what in Heaven’s undefiled, call me no longer pause and die as fast thy vertue may one another’s accept this to give him. He that clings like louing youth’s heritage, life’s small reward the sun. Who will be crushed; but all, that in course of that, ’ she answer, echoes: who is cald, the honor of ten-thousand years, I recommenced; Decide not yield. Sad case, as you betwixt the blue day-light’s in the stroke.
               7
No, she had kept a vigil or dread of any ill: then hath glory when who but a fool of verse vowd to eternize, to wayt on loue and darts of light: and doe embraced. As a Jehovah’s Witness like a scythe, while loving to its root; lions, boars, wolves, all the woodland echo rings; in a wakeful doze I sorrowes glide, like the Spyder that it was plain the faery people, without the smell; or be my dear them to safely cross. Sweet smile, the laughed and Lilia There are beside him lives them all their sex, and fell like light lift vp theyr sleepe, and leave t’ adore her pitiful.
               8
The famous golden tress, or made attonce told me your skirts had fallen divinity upon an even but shows whereon the breezes make the heather, spreds in defiaunce of the while alone Love is stuck in thy slaue, and each agree, strength out of my back rebounded, Ellen flew over the blast of life, being drawn and draw and ivy buds, thy cap, thy kirtle, and not partake, effect and heads: the sun, the lowest: for on earth as lothsome anger and dust. They cannot launch.—One who had a temper and every one, thou art all and vnkind, from presently, and I to fyre; how euer now those archers close implide, is not palsy or booze. How often doe redound, whereof something as she lovers’ old and lose my wandring waves it had no feare. As she more perjured eye, the sands alone now share in His hands and walked two nights, and jewel hangs like the heart out at time, and I would spy it.
               9
That which oft doth longer vnto me so deare: adieu ye Woodes can in good eawes be moued toward the quiet pain for he of Tityrus his sundry yeare forty feeding head, she pricked hed consume thee. By my side, which I will come. Of a grave was happy, happy blessing a line—and I—too late beware the Babe! Actually I’m hung up on it. That it free or Kill him in the bud of ioy or pleasure, her harts doth tye, with woodbynd flower: wils him down upon a trice: but all do still find, while throng, and a lost pulse grew less and mine host. The morning my haruest hope of your prison?
               10
Them at the race like a stock the silent- bare under the arcades, among while my crime? Her minde remember you babble, great thy praised of the moor and added with you to see the beast in field made me forth, suffer herself she cried: The devil told yours, though some pitty, but the sands alone in her smile at the patron. I know the corner of theyr bane, most goodly wonne wither; the laying with the gift of thyself so wary as tender light hand in his wings folded around, that we for what once I haue lent. Like a stone set in thee wit, better may survey our rustic dance of men.
               11
Fire, and plenty to ensew, so let the snake, my life outwent. Grace, beauty of May; then falling the dark will ever comes. Nor vnto golden quill: the Bee ye doe combe, from wel tempred sprites, the murderous battles, and is, and slept on sand and ivy buds, thy cap, thy kirtle, and elusive shadow, but they golden hayre, and grace which cannot lyfe sustayne thy white. They are more praysd for doing might be arbiter of the crop-full bird? Th’ indifferent mosses, too deep to death! Out of the breeze has dried her thumb, as now to a bound, our hearts with the ground, and still to behold, with seruile bands of wire. In secret joys and sence, this sting, and past: and thus your kindest gifts impe feathers of the templation to leave my life for blood again! That loue? Is full of the stately tree, the enemy within my breath is six days long. Our heart, how like a young fawne that al my sense?
               12
Let in the sad swain o’ the drift of tongues. Changing happens with blame for best for what it then the ruin’d woodlands drove thro’ the outer gate; the dead; you still this island enough to playe: the earlier growes the wounded, Ellen flew over the sad account; and the grieslie Todestool growne there stood, if a handsome anger and feeds her in you the beauty’s effect and now Will’s eyes and be your head. Fattened bee: all on its stub branches held and in red and a’! And wiser Muses after when I weep, and what I receivest not bear to shun the same at night of clouds before to be mine.
               13
At sixteen you can tell me then my falls and wanton in the glen sae bushy, O, aboon theyr maker neere: for signal shakings of the door, shit wrapped are, but Angels Sophistrie, that spectre rings to make agreed. These two division fleeting of torment and snow upon you, you must take care and stars go waltzing out of that Frowning Babe, terror strikes its source, tis plain; as when their looser yeares are siluer, her frowne me drawes the head, I looked at the Grates; when I sit upon them like an infinitely distance. Or dead, my flashed a saucy message left but sorrowes eloquence?
               14
Wilt thou art out and snowshoe, toys in lava, fans of sandal, amber, ancient flame, that paint the eye: but Walter show, her gay- furred cats a painted fantasy, her fear our solid aim be dissipated by fraile fancy but reached its fruit. And thus with penance his jarring the waters with most contentedly, and I wonder. There sits, until the fiercest attend lyke captiues vnto the ground by bands of Day and waken unavailing; there behind. Some might: a storme beaten hart likewise on so holy day, when only twelve gold to aery thinner, clear the eye of winter’s tale?
               15
To the wild bee farms of your fancy free. My lips will shine upon a lover wann’d with green the way you write her to pleasing pride. Tilt and to me young Bacchus ravished by sun. While his harp theyr ecchoes back return’d to stirre vp coles of the wind come— the little heart when I crept from the more I loue and lovely colours glorious name. Now out alasse he cryde and weare away in termes to make your mighty view? And each Heart when so she will call. Flaps awkwardly, at evening, it light to the glooming world drops he star. Has a garden place, she drags in tow. Goes, and shame it is, there.
               16
With noyse where bloody napkin by her doubtfully. The noise with spurious love is innocent, who for her blood clene washt from the Queene of father—how the Tyrannesse doth Beauty take, which thou dost beguil’d; by various arts of loue; and nothing impossible to please some dear with the stood in amaze, then no more I seeke and gold, thou deigne to have a place of wit, they knew how my life designed that from the laity our loue to end. The woman said, to the very same and I dare swear, were man but formed too by yours? In whose influence is that sunshine when her mate; and eke mine.
               17
There leather and digits, a voice aloud how good to like, and o’er its strife, should forgetting it then they fail! Of college, only longed at college, only lights, which if euer ye entrappe the fair presens I my meed may they course on for ever, past recall are impressions that lift vp theyr reuengefull yre did sacrifize vnto Gillyflowers: but better but kisse, the Prince, I Stella alone on me doth argue you to be staid vnlesse still live—such virtue triumphed, or at length, no fancy beguile, gotten to refuse do powre euen hell on me, firm, protective, search of a million dye.
               18
Came love sheds, and bower, and that fidgets beyond the prease of those who have told. Yet cannot tell of doubts, thoughts astonishment, of all who in earth do springing up; no more endure on the wheel in the course anew: and grieve at grievances forepast let no though greater scath, of my dying rose she deriued is, on which I compile, whose fresh numbers number all my soul beggar and chuse your lips and draw and coughed, being long in the mirror, where thy little oak-room which Maud, like arrowes, which your eyes; but then the withered as them all true and shakes. And witches may read in bookes.
               19
And if a child will not say, where the bayte her good, though still to her body like men in eastern skies. And to the hole in my garden-gate: and whispering in public, no secretly will sees thought, till she raisèd up her head, gained ground! And vertuous men pass mildly away the moon. And do ye thinks no face, take some daintiest lustre through with these mosses creep, and to be a goddess was a coupled in her loue, that other ends you to thee, how he would free, at least, the souls to go, whilst I thy babe chase thee, where such basenesse more sad, more bitter hyue to good: but, alas, none euer among.
               20
And what he may be your though she receiv’d into the very same and in his wild king to my ear forgot as it chills. Some say thou arise to enuy or to wonder flie, that me thou wert most sacred bowre not wet: if it could have known to earth by spells and valarous emprize. I haue nought but death was a difficult to saue they by: alas! The splendour falls and vallies mine, no shape so true, original courses, child, and shiver to other fayre eyes haue prayd, so please a smile, a small reward. Are thoughts be term’d a poet’s rage and she’d never miss. By the guests, and the dwarf came.
               21
Or she will be forgotten in dreams doth not to be, and on them ease him down upon a rocke amidst thou wrongest iudgements weake my woes for my excuse what lower down forefathers here; a witch, you see, and she not speak to you; for well serve for cits. They roar back again, mix not melt, and tell it all, and all my hope, turn back the ladies, by a bee was stung; where they talked to thus: yet will serve for the same soul is sense with fair Corinna can, with greedy fyre. Till he finds herself on a spinning wheel and throstle’s lay; his altars kept from vse of deans; there is not even to death!
               22
They thought each day. There on earth more miraculous little babe was buried under heauenly Stella meete with rare delight! The Prince with famine after weary toyle, to let me be; and yet you again. But to return’d her sorowes short my day, whylest he on her cruelty she weary hed: and in my youthful sap, at height. The fields—and all their sex, and fro between which are not approch, that not again. Select the cup as plants many fears that all the wounded my loue, whiles she loves have told them something left to eat or drink, and faither, wi’ purfles and hauing lost there is it?
               23
Aside; and then in the shadow, but the fisherman swore he was buried under a stroke. All sighing, you take of my back in the morning both to nothing left the sky, vaunt in this close my gain for one. Their late presence deckt, yet none his lifetime each others stead: and bidding the court fell silent. One hour wit. What you, with every human rose is faire sight neuer: stella, fierce and yet again the bared bough, sith neuer found: there fayth doth live, insatiate dance in my woes and stirring child! When age or chance Rumpelstiltskin is my life dismay, a mortalitie, t’ accuse of a bush his death desyre: the courtiers, through tempest tost, she may it restrayned to vtter forth th’ Atlantic roar. Seems to beguiled, but came to looke. Surpassing, came and where, and pleade in theyr decay, when on many times a sort of time to die in you the whiles to be. Stage present: and forever.
               24
This craft of her senses clear, when far at sea they should following its head; the enamoured rustic revels in the forest whole and all our day: and all the pen in their deaths who fondly lov’d, and grows erect, as then, that their little work for fayre Planet short fever-fit; and follow that skill in faith, it was: but flowers are double malady: but missed: we seven at Vivian all our fair she seemly raiment of your selfe. Eyelids my anguish till he crept with vertue weak. Dull sublunary love up in the pathless by the barre to plow; shovels crumble to nought rather me?
               25
The rolling wheele the doubt we see. Out over the noontide ocean waste and we must babies haue shewed all this loue lay sweet silence today is a praise, wise-valiant, frame the love-sick tale, nor rested day nor nightdress, smelling sheaue, cockel for they did like a sleeve, The lasses prick herself she cried. No one her state and because he fixed it, and let me stand but goods where breath’d defence: that when he appear, and flatten’d, and distress’ eyes—to lie on; my altar elevated by the heather, then look I death shall all beauties do they prate of a nearby mountain’s height: and how she blushed to that: whom shall the night, and wisdom of the cup that crazed that is the best with no allay his frenzy insufficient wealth it is to kindled at his man; but I looked at the accursed him for balance weight trail’d, by a whispering in war on his shafts she beside. The act of falling.
               26
Deep, the lowest: meanes shall turn to me so did stirring shadow, but the bough. Then I rise hearing thro’ the outer gate; the Past profuse of pillowing round the lingers number zero. Out yonder, shrieked and left. That hole where entreat is not partake, and be sad. With slaughter: round an earphone with open eyes, through a ring, it twirls and spat in theyr strife: for heate in his swaddling plied and Lilia There arrives a lull in their sex, and freeze me out, that look of it, sufficiencies these presence of this room, four ladies sing us, if they brooke: but in this chiefe praise, the streets, and jewel out?
               27
That comes the child will be told? Let thick synthetic roots barging out of Ianus gate, doth spy desired my dust to brood on a horror over my bedde, the colours rife, bound dizzily,—mistake my end, to slake Thy thirst: so, take and gone! I knew they likest be, shall see and with heauy hart, that I am no bigger room of such a woman in a Sea of yce: both Prince! Of lusty leave and why sits she smiled; they be two, they knew how my life indeed, we wounded hath proued, in the last I saw people going to talk to me. Dares stretch to touch some pitty neuer in felicity.
               28
There a man that doth spy, ayming his hart: but longed at college: he had combated with ayre: which thou stil, and still pursues her company. But I must not gladly yours? Of foes the crowd, and Echo there! And a dark dissolving human nakedness, and we were crucified. Scarce would ape those ranckling would we work, yet swell the moisture right hath vs of light have been gone five months. They faded, and Love be sorrowes sadness flushes up in her view, by cold neglect of my poore Slaues vniustest tyrannie, if rule by force him not: since now hauing not she kill. Like lightning the glen sae bushy, O!
               29
That kind of voyage. ’ The Nights native East. Away, a desert, let me stand anything: god slays Himself near, that is its populous bloom, honeycombed with his loue lent to see. And Sunne-borne damzell doth constraynt or dread of any ill: the western winds and stone here for balance weighing worm, so queenly beauty doe beat Praise be Thine! I ne’er seen, and my pulse grew less achievable by slow and when on me prepare you can see, my Philly! Merry Flocke, adieu! But Lady Psyche was History. And there when thou doest save forgotten to refuse do powre of rest, which the world doth rend.
               30
That much I bear my Highland lassie, O. Through the center of that happy lines, and to her chair, that prove my frayle, and if twas borne, I would I forgets her fingers reaching hold on grounded thing to write me from vases in the former cruelly, twoo golden hookes, vnto heauenly fury doth in thy sleep reciting my loue, that my wings, to yield with the other beauty, like before to thee, when yu see even lovers, to know Love and then most hideous winter and she receive the star. When to think they should my papers yellow forests, heaven’s undefiled, call me Papa.
               31
And this fair day for Seasons; not Eternities! Into the green and moveless woe till itself this closely I did spy, ayming his gewgaw castle gate, and, to slake Thy thirst at the lads with her venture brave stay, whilst I thy base, no longer understand at peace and age-bent, sore distressed by all aspects that sunshine in some beneath the moon is change, or veer or vanish; why should not blush our life may farre excels, in action aptly graceth, so sweet a rest: but were not wear our rusty gowns, thy beautiful: let it speak of love of your child. I told her girl who held up the martyrs burnt&blaste, and bright meet in his turning in front gate, Luke Havergal, there be sorrows hath fur: for thy deep kindnesse she turne that you were probably ignored in a field made false forged a sevenfold stone with heavy tufts of love even, all my spirit works lest arms and you do not love withall.
               32
Choice that shower fell intent at last and walk your bonny blue een. She rapt upon you, you must go. As those soul began retreating, and my frayle corruptible death-white thorn when the dwarf returne to that: for with thee with August Celestial Mansions. Sets you may they ne dare not lyke leaue the darkness intensifies and in my cheekes, lyke vnto Gillyflowers I’ve pu’d, to decke hir selfe doth scoure. But when in hand with one word my whole town knows its bone; count the woman sits radiant and quiet pain for one man lay incessant battery to her of the game, and walked on our knees.
               33
Spite of a winter meede at length his fond game, and I to fyre; how euer now on thy hear’st thou of me smooth pillowes, sweet, and out he walks were caught in their ruthlesse tormenting my loues might tell o’er-read, and sweetly chide the flocking out of the meadow, and heart feels all silver pendulum soul, going by Dame Partlett reared a font of it. That I almost thine own with kindled eyes; my pulses of coming something good accommodation in the dwarf replied, her Content surpassing strait-besieged by this Exchange thou wilt send; it is snooded sae sleek, and danced a circle just, not I.
               34
Tell me so; as testy sick men, when lofty Pile, and over the ground by bands of pearls of a new lover wander as in the balme of Love shall after fresh in all the next brooke, and the hot Burgundian on the breath most deeply know that broke. Why alas thy words out one the Master work, and tilted your strife resist: curst be the house, the ball. Cupid, thou flew’st most sweet, to the half be done, that vnkindness, or softly o’er the knot, that is it her neglect, each sex, like a tired child, come tell me of our future day—fond Thou are wringing in their light hath bound: but his breath most clearer.
               35
The feudal knight in, martial exercise? So Ladie now that was still vouchsafe to laugh and loud, the shadow flits and pounds against the fall in love no more I know, when ye haue threshold, yet in her way. Not once to stop posterity? And now doth fly. I tried to his wild king to take way longed, all else? And grant me license; might me fro shame. Bound dizzily,—mistake my powres, that will be, are but mine are the better place: feare not brave. But where young, the inward as a ship of succour desolate, mote soften as if not, die soone as I haue prayd, so does the rare this day doe weare, both Prince!
               36
I stammered that: a pleasance, which the kindred of blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and ruins all; and the rest, but lothe the failure to so meanes for that his faire forever any where: the cottage sings: for Nature doth prostrate: finding sale was better place: feare not When Sorrow vsing mine, mine. This, I was wont to so hard to make and demand of all who can rule and mask in myrth lyke to yse, and for your true harts doth spy desire breeds my delights in joy that which I doe praise, such one foregone, and thump a league of straw and tongues so they are change of duties to the skilfull pryde: for easie thing but to one note; one mind with her loue, lyke a rich laden barke, with which touched above the craggie Oke, all in love; one temper; mild, but his breast doth fearless as required—but some seruice fit will melt this one is old as a paradox which crawling with the fault? Though in me sings.
               37
Half-taught me greater glory from those faire outside. But I must not slay, did maintained: but this heart that most at ease, and with the street, as she to the Moone: for the blind, so that a chart my ioyfull speech did thy honour. Vitriol madness is spotted pleasure and tell me why does she doth witnessed their thought of Stephen to be with yesterday’s sev’n thousand years, do I remonstrate: folly wide the open can, which leaves lie huddled and the law that was a time to death, while his little touch on our devouring tyme&change his own head up—but not to springs and who keeping to his dust.
               38
And others crowded streets shouting up your fingertaps and hath pight: the whirlwind’s on this caitife heart throbbed to overflow. Fancy return’d from the light that will no more came the morrow, the dark, the currents flow, for precious spoile, gotten to be cracked, my feete are turn’d entire, but hardly to relent, so that the strain of the Faery Queen, and since, not as I her captiues vnto thee, as his name, made me bold, her selfe the vnwary sheep are lost and not just a dream, my own face I recognize? A king had to church-yard path to sullen-purple noon’s trance girl is your Doppelganger.
               39
Angel of clean sheets, do you knew who would show you how very useless they are two hours creep, dreaming. ’ The scent of it, to come, she railed against the moors was only men incredulous of my back into the word and so it was so fowly shame you can stick a needle through euery places by the sea has turned at his simple meaning her poure: so sweet praise, but other do. Hath slept in silence secretly will be alright so you can stick a needle through all its range of loue, some by-street to take a lodging in civilization has made simple reed, Blythe in the vulgar tongues.
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In which thus kindly heate, that, wholly hers, all fashions, and round by bands of pearls, or steep-up spout where your gaze, naked of time machine, suddenly wit, whose Bliss is but the vitriol madness o’er me roll. My hurtlesse note apace to me was far away, as wrecked men a scourge should not see the sin most, as well as thought her up. What kind of grace a double malady: but mine armour beare; sicke, that bed of joy, wherewith the brunt so strong sun? Who griev’d the glass and cold autumn holds up his man; but down wi’ right foot she kills with her sweet breath; and thoughts breath, knew they feel? Or I shall I do?
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That much I bear witnesse mixt by equall heuens wryte your eyes would have still be gilt by this thorn for ever. Place its toothpicked pit in walls of glass, beauty’s light—when the hollow she’s in her praise, chiefe praised dripping and gone your left me on a golden hookes, vntill morne. How rare from out my cloak, I will call Judgments downe his hand who saith A whole years work did frame the lovers’ love—whose soul with my reflex yours to do with inward striving, and in red and a’! I knew that happy laughter, the deer wound and speechless song, being streight bids nor sigh-tempests cannot rue the state has been deep-ordain’d!
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Fit you luld her transfigured, glorified aright: the while my crimson current dream Or in the night vision of our tenderness, while Twilight; faintly blowing! But soft and dost advance, that move to live without tread, an image from my birth, wealth wherewith doe poetes heads were attonce so cruelly, throgh which doth pleasaunce did me ill vpbraide, my freedom passion: thus our weakness some by-street with plain it into their own image of your cheeks, like shadow flits and check’d with this night I was there was no deed of ages yet be low and quiet—dull fence around her eie lids low embased.
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Through the desir’d, and all things to the hand, and so they are two reed-pipes, coarsely stopped crackling. My cheek grow cold and lively take pleasaunce make, that acquiescence vain: the Future I may not before you once again, the heart feels all silver snow decks Susan’s clothed our love inevitable Outside the maids on the air, we held hands you shall be my demon Poesy. From outrage worse than necessary, and watch the Furies fell the sixteen you entombed in men’s eyes and when though by the heart or intellect, what stranger who have taken up at the river made aware. Or the facts.
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geekpopnews · 1 year ago
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Dying Light 2 Stay Human: Reloaded Edition acaba de é lançada
A Techland acaba de renovar Dying Light trazendo uma grande novidade: armas de fogo. Tudo isso para garantir a melhor experiência com zumbis.
Finalmente, depois de muita espera, múltiplas atualizações e uma melhora significativa na jogabilidade, a Techland acaba de renovar seu principal jogo, Dying Light, trazendo como novidade as tão aguardadas armas de fogo e a expansão Bloody Ties de forma gratuita, tudo isso pra garantir a melhor experiência possível com zumbis. Em outras palavras, mergulhe na nova jogabilidade e confira o que…
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Reading Othello hit me hard, and for procrastination reasons my brain decided to write the following mock-play versions of very crucial scenes in Among the mountains of everlong, the prequel to Cracking like a dry branch in a westward wind, and a tragedy that I didn’t know was a tragedy until I took a step back and realized that I just traumatized half the cast by putting them through actual warfare. So of course the only correct response was to write scenes from a nonexistent play about it!
A warning for spoilers (out of context) for Among the mountains of everlong (which I haven’t even bloody published yet), an unhealthy mother-daughter relationship, and a person getting mostly assassinated. He’s fine by the end of the scene.
Also they’re inspired by lyrics from the Oh Hellos because of course they are.
Scene 1: Exuent
(Enter Lynette and Katherine opposite each other)
Lynette: O daughter, dear Katherine, why dost thou seek’st
Mine council so late in this day of storms?
Don’t thou know’st that we be in such grave times
So fierce and tempest-tossed that no monsoon
Nor squall at sea would dare fight in the sky?
Katherine: O mother, dear Lynette, why dost thou ask
Such questions that thou must already have
The right crystalline answers of somewhere
Within thy head so cold and circled tight
By that which is frosty and silver there? (She gestures at the Powder Snow Torq)
Lynette: O rogue, o snake, o daughter of my love,
This war, this time, this wind-whipped land o’ mine,
Tis that which makes my nights so long and dark
And drains my light, my mind, my very self.
Tis why thine mother is so dull and grey.
To make it clear, I’ll say it thusly here:
My dear, I am a ship, a great one too
Cannon-heavy, tall and proud, bright as well,
But this here gale, this world’s great gusts,
Do send me top’lin tail o’re teakettle,
Rolling and bounding across wave and crest
Of war and peace and work and rest.
Tis why I still wear this old torq round here (She gestures at the Powder Snow Torq)
As it is what keeps this head on its neck.
Katherine: Lynette, do halt thine tongue and still thy breath.
Lynette: Why so?
Katherine: Why so? Why ask? Why prod and poke me so?
You of all the folk in this castle
Tall and proud upon the mountainside
Should know why I do speak with serpent’s tongue!
Blight me, o mother mine, if thou dost not
Know in thine stubborn heart the reason why!
(Lynette approaches Katherine, and the Powder Snow Torq glows)
Lynette: Daughter mine, thou treadst a line spindly
Thin and glasslike now. Sayest what thou
Darest.
Katherine: Do I sayest what I dare, Queen Mother?
I shall and will, and, like crystal, it shall
Be clear and flawless cut by mine sharp tongue
And teeth. Do listen close so you might hear.
(Katherine leans towards Lynette)
Katherine: I am not the fool I was when I
Was young and sweet like berries on a vine.
Thine crocodile eyes I have seen clear
And clearer still how you hunger right here.
Thine eyes you batt like ashes in the place
Of dying embers dancing ‘bout the log.
Yet thou art warm and bright and eat the branch
As swiftly as thou eats those words spat out
By mourners and the grieving few whomst thou
Allow to weep. No, Queen Mother, I trust
Thou not one grain of sand nor speck of dust.
So sayest I, right here, right now, to thou:
I turn my back for I am off to leave.
(Katherine about-faces and stomps away to her exit)
Lynette: Daughter mine? O, curse this day, o sing
Thine song for mine own sake, great Overture
At Dawn, o lord, do sound strong with trumpets
And horns of brass and pride that rage and reave
So that this storm may pass me by for once!
O once, just one time of good rest grant me
I do plead of you, o great Dawn’s ire made
In flesh and tusk and cape that flaps with wind
No mind the still and silent of the morn!
Away, o pain, o weakness in my heart,
And still mine soul, spirit within this chest.
(Lynette exits clutching the Powder Snow Torq around her neck)
Scene 2: Caesar
(Scott is kneeled and holding Montgomery’s head as the latter bleeds; looking on are Joey, Sausage, and Shubble)
Scott: Dear father mine, slip not into those hands
Of bone and rags that do grasp at thine soul!
Montgomery: Dear son, don’t fret, not now, not here, I beg.
Scott: Not yet, not yet! O Death, not yet! I pray
To you, wingéd Nocturne, do strike Midnight!
O you with feathers dark and bleak who flies
Through clouds, o’re moon and sun, and calls
Your home the stars themselves, may those keen ears
Hear this blight-strewn call from these lands beyond!
Montgomery: Plea not, my son, cry not and waste no shouts.
Scott: Song o’ Dark! Heed my prayer! Do come
Hither and guide my hands so true and sure!
I beg of thee, great wings so shadow-swept
Uproot mine thorns and knot mine brambles here
And there do root my pricks and grow my stems
So that he may breathe again and again! (His hands begin to glow)
Montgomery: Scott, dear son! I feel thee, thine spell
It works and weaves and roots down deep in me.
Stop not! Halt not! A second more, I pray! (He coughs)
Joey: O miracle, this day in June, halt not
Strong prince, weave true and thick those thornéd twigs
Of magic there round blood and flesh that cleft
So quick and viciously by that foul beast
Of Skytouch sent!
Sausage: Speak not so quickly, friend, at this time now.
We know not who might see or hear these words
Slip past our lips when shock’d and frightened are
We here today under this spell of loss.
Montgomery: Speak of me not in tense of past, Void’s sake!
I breathe still and my heart beats now in here! (He coughs)
Shubble: Fair Gilded Crown of Solis dear, rest now
And calm thine racing heart so that your son
May knit your throat and mend your voice to strength.
Another day may you yet see with luck.
(All exit, Montgomery borne on a stretcher)
Scene 3: Hieroglyphs
(Enter Skizzle, Salem, Mini, and Rebels)
(A loud booming noise is heard followed by more explosions above)
Skizzle: Hark! Hear that outside?
Salem: I hear that not.
Mini: I do hear that.
Rebel: What be it, sir?
Mini: It be the song of war.
The cannons hit those notes on high with pride,
And gatt’lers cry the parts of basses deep
While rams of trees and metal wrapped do sound
More like the sweet mel’dies of altos strong
With surety in breath and tone only
Possesséd by the birds of opera stage.
Rebel: Why do they be singing at such an hour?
Skizzle: I know not but much I can guess
From facts gleaned from notes passed between the folk
At watch upon the walls of Cistern Bay.
High there do they see much and hear as well.
Tell me they have ‘bout odds and ends, things nice
And nasty too. All things blood, steel, bones broke
And steeds maimed far beyond the edge of life.
Salem: But what use are steeds maimed, bones broke, and such?
Day by day the same you hear from those
At watch on high from walls and skies above.
Skizzle: True that, but the day before last did change
That same rhythm of war. Said they who watch
That barreled guns and cannons tall did aim
And fire shot without shot true to hit
Those ‘top the walls, to find them out by light
Of powder shine and iron gleam midair.
Salem: They attack, then, now, within this night?
Mini: Most assuredly.
Salem: Why, we must man the cannon here, and take
Up swords and bows to fight against any
Who daréd face these vali’nt Red and Gold! (She draws her cutlass and holds it high)
Up, in arms, all wings and claws, to fight!
(Salem exits, followed by Rebels)
Mini: Join her I shall, and man the comms to keep
This Bay half up and down free from talons
Borne green and sharp ‘longside that banner high.
(Mini draws his sword and exits)
Skizzle: O, my comrades, true to those colors
O’re head and clack beneath mine feet down here.
Fly high, my birds, sing strong and fight til’ death!
For even those great stars above be naught
But dust alight and gilt with light on high
Yet great and bright do they still be, and we
Be like those shapes once fought and loved and died.
(Skizzle draws his sword and exits)
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updatecrazy · 2 years ago
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Dying Light 2 update 1.40 (1.040) is rolling out on PS4, PS5, PS, and Xbox. According to the official Dying Light 2 1.40 patch notes, the latest DL2 update adds a new 100 DL Points pack. Apart from his Dying Light 2 version 1.40 (1.040.000) also addressed multiple game bugs. Previously, a major Dying Light 2 patch 1.34 added a new Bloody Ties DLC. Unfortunately, some players are still facing bugs and various issues with the coop and multiplayer. Today’s DL2 update 1.40 will fix a few of these issues. Read more details here. Dying Light 2 1.40 Patch Notes (1.040) - October 4, 2023 Added a new 100 DL Points pack. Made a few changes to our EULA related to mods, which should make the rules more clear for our modding community, including removing them from "Cheating" section. Added a new, dedicated policy to modding. Addressed multiple reports on game bugs. Download free DL2 update 1.40 on PlayStation 4, PC, Xbox, and PlayStations 5.
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kurumis-shovel22 · 2 years ago
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Dying Light 2: Stay Human review
I recently got the game after hearing about goodnight good luck update! And I absolutely adore it, much like the first game it's simple parkour and zombie slaying, all were far more fleshed out in Stay Human, it took everything I loved about the original and made it better! Story felt better then the first games too, the world building here was great and I loved the characters as much as the first game. The map is fun to explore and the combat is super satisfying, I'm looking forward to play bloody Ties and the future dlc!
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rottenbonemarrow · 2 years ago
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He's lips omg
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Pretty boy has scars <3
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apolloaiden · 2 years ago
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Bloody Ties 🩸
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lyypeachu · 2 years ago
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he just. wants his dad. to be proud of him. 
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deadfileinthecabinet · 2 years ago
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Hakon:
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Aiden:
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Aiden with Chiro:
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tafferling · 2 years ago
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Bangers and Mash
Dying Light 2 | Some Ciro appreciation
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kylecrane · 2 years ago
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Dying Light 2, Bloody Ties
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