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selfspinninglies · 2 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

#noodle talks #not art #death note #this is a lot cooler in my head i swear. im bad at explaining this

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waxing-hiraethh · 10 months 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.

#ao3 fanfic #harry potter #drarry #draco x harry #hp fanfic #hp #draco malfoy #harry james potter #short but multichapter

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auroragehenna · 11 months ago

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Commision writing chp. 2

CW/TW: Angry whumper, smartass whumpee, stabbing, threats of further torture, torture, implied fantasy racism, charming, DND whump Word count:

Fae woke up leaning against something hard, like stone. And it didn't really feel like waking up more like...Finally breaking through a wall of cotton. Warm...Fluffy cotton...No! Focus! What was going on? Part of her seemed to yell that she didn't want to know but she still pushed through.

Zestia who was sitting opposite her bound captive grinned while she observed the others feeble struggles. Part of the elf wanted to wake up wheras the other part wanted to stay enthralled. „Maybe I should just keep you like this.“, she pondered, „all humiliated and docile. Only problem is you’re also disgustingly happy like this. And that’s…-she reached out with a small dagger-is not why you’re here!”-she stabbed the dagger into the elf’s leg and removing her control over her completely.“

Fae screamed as the dagger was plunged into her leg, waking brutually from the blissfull daze. Her eyes had to adjust to the dim flickering light of a campfire until they finally settled on her attacker.

“Well good morning there. Did you have a relaxing little nap?”, Zestia asked condecendlingly.

“How did you do that? How did you charm me?”

Zestia smirked. “Don’t worry your little head about it, you won’t be alive for long enough to worry about it.” With that Zestia grabbed the knife and tore it carelessly out of Fae’s leg.

Fae didn’t make an effort to catch the scream that ripped out of her throat, her attacker seemed like someone that wanted to hear her scream. That could only be in her favour. She had to get out of here. But then her thought process got interrupted as the knife caught her gaze, glistering in the light from the fire. It was fucking serrated! Against better judgment her eyes snapped down onto her leg to see how the wound looked. It was a bloody mess, shreds of skin adorning the edge of the stab. Satisfying. But painful. Zestia’s eyes narrowed when Fae’s eyes left her to inspect the knife and the wound on her leg. She didn’t even look that horrified. She picked up the blade and used it to tilt Fae’s head up, making the elf’s gaze meet hers. “Eyes on me, Tree rat!”, she ordered.

Fae tried to make a gesture of surrender with her tied up hands, shoulders rising slightly. “Okay, okay.” Silently she registered the slur. It suggested that her attacker had something against elves. But only elves or was she generally racist? Probably not the smartest plan to try to figure it out unless she wanted to provoke her again. Though it hardly seems to matter.

“What are you thinking about, hm?”, Zestia asked, placing her hand on the stab wound on Fae’s thigh and pressing in while leaning in on her.

“Just death.”

Oh, don’t worry by the end you won’t fear it anymore.”, Zestia said, smiling knowingly.

“I don’t fear dying.”

“Excellent.”, Zestia says joyfully and sits back, relieving pain on her victim’s leg but not without letting her fingers dig through the wound, magically slowing the blood flow it so Fae wouldn’t bleed before she wanted her to. She cupped Fae’s cheek for a moment before slipping further back and grabbing her hair. Using the grip to smash the elf’s head into the cave wall behind her. And while she was dizzy she held her dagger into the fireplace and waited.

Fae was disoriented. To say the least. Her vision was spinning and she couldn’t make sense of it until there was something burning hot resting against her ear. Harshly she forced herself to focus, willing the different images to unify.

“Now, tell me something, Fae. Are you travelling alone or were you waiting for someone, or rather meeting somebody?”

Fae felt the burning pressure of what she could only assume was another blade increasing on her ear ever so slowly. Burning her skin and stinging. Still she tried to steel her nerves. Okay this was fine. Think. Lie. “I am travelling alone, I used to be part of a group for a few adventures but we went our separate ways.”, she tried.

Zestia looked at her victim for a moment longer before her gaze moved to the elf’s pointed ear where she was now placing the heated blade at the top of the ear shell. And pushed down, agonizingly slowly. “Remember, you can make this stop at any moment, just tell me what I want to know.”

Fae cried out as the hot-sharp metal was pushed into the top of her ear, the cry drying out to a choked rasp and then to a composed groan. But she held out.

“No?”, Zestia asked for a moment slowing her blade. “Nothing?”

“I already told you; I am alone, I promise.”

“Hmm.”, Zestia just commented and with a final push tore the blade through the ear shell. Pleased with herself she saw that the wound was already pretty cauterized. She wouldn’t need to use magic on that. She held the blade into the flames again for a bit.

Fae heard a disgusting sound of something soft falling before the pain and realization hit her brain. She had cut off a slice of her ear!! A slice of her ear!!

“Zestia drank in the shock and desperation and pain of her victim, letting her sit with the realization for a bit before she set the blade down again only a few centimetres after the slice from before.

Fae’s eyes widened. She only heard the blood rushing in her ears which might as well be since her ear was now bleeding. Or was it burning? She couldn’t tell. It was just pain. It distressed her enormously that she couldn’t see what was happening. All she could do was sit there tied up and stare forward. When she tried to turn her head her attacker would roughly turn it back.

“Now let’s try this again.”, Zestia said and started pushing down again.

“I already told you, please! Please, don’t do this! Please, I swear!”

“And yet somehow I don’t believe you.”, Zestia retorted coldly. Blade now already halfway through the ear again, leaving it red and burned.

“Please, please just stop!”

“You know how to make this stop.”

“Please! Please, okay! I’ll tell you just please stop!” Zestia gave one final push and another piece of the once pointed ear fell down, landing next to the other in the dirt of the cave floor. “Now then? Spill it.”

Fae was crying by now, hot tears ran down her cheeks, sickening as they felt just like the warm blood that she felt like was running down her mutilated ear. Her ear…She was grabbed by the chin and forced to make eye contact with her attacker. Answer me! She demanded. “I was going to meet somebody…A friend. But they’re not an elf!”, she tried, “They’re a good way away from here. They won’t search for me, I promise!”

Zestia grinned. “No, of course they wouldn’t. Who would, hmm?” She let go of Fae’s chin and grabbed the little dagger again, raising it towards the elf’s head.

“Wait-Wait-Wait! What are you doing, you said you would stop! You said-!”

“I lied.”

And with those words the other started to slice into her ear again. At that point Fae lost sense of time, the pain was so overwhelming. She only knew that at some point she had run out of tears to cry. After what felt like forever her torturer finally lowered the dagger again. Fae wanted to feel relief, she wanted to just fall unconscious, but a hard slap connected with her cheek and sent her head flying to the right. When her eyes focused, she looked right at the bloody blade of the dagger that has just cut her whole ear off, piece. By. Piece. She followed it as it spun slowly and then forced her eyes to trail up until-Oh no. “No, no, no, no, no, please! Please I am begging you, please no! No. I’ll do anything.”, she begged, hoping that after all this, something might sway the whims of her torturer but nothing seemed to help.

Zestia held up the dagger and carefully angled the, from heat nearly glowing blade at the tip of the other pointed ear. With a cold satisfaction she reveled in the girl’s begging. She begged really beautifully, and this time, she could tell, she meant it. “If you would do anything, then suffer, suffer beautifully and give me peace.”, she murmured, sure the elf couldn’t hear her over her own fear and pain. After a few pieces Zestia stopped. The elf had been awfelly non-reactive in the last minutes. She put the dagger down and walked outside with a flask, shortly after returning with the now uncapped flask in hand. When she stood in front of the dazed elf she turned the flask upside down.

Fae was, against her will, brought back from her semi-concious state when ice cold water got dumped over her head. Her mind only slowly grasping the chain of events that had unfolded.

The cold water felt like pure heaven on her burned, mutilated ears. But she vaguely knew that she shouldn’t be happy about the water.

Zestia inspected her victim before rolling her eyes and crouching down on her level again. Slowly she stretched her hand again and held the cold flask against the burned edges of the girl’s red ear. A relieved groan escaped the elf’s throat before she could stop it. Zestia searched her gaze and held on to it. Slowly using her charm spell to wind into the others dazed brain. Sneaking through the fog and eventually settling in the centre of the elfs consciousness. There she pulled and tugged until she saw the lights slowly come back in her victim’s eyes, the faint squirms becoming less sluggish. She sat back on her hunkers. “How gracious of you to join me again.”

Fae started at her, face neutral. Everything was pain. She is pain. More than she had ever experienced. And whatever she said didn’t seem to matter. Provoke her? Pain. Cower and beg? Pain. No response? She messed with her mind. A shiver ran through her. She didn’t seem to be able to shake the feeling her attackers spell left in her. This foreign force sneaking itself into her mind and forcing whatever she wanted on her. Panic? Not anymore. Now it felt like there was a hook keeping her mind from drifting off, even her brain was restrained!! She had to keep herself from hyperventilating. And it wasn’t just “tough it out and then it’s over” the woman wanted to kill her! She would never see…Oh god no, she couldn’t do that to them…-Oh shit, the knife is in the fire again!

Zestia’s grin grew again, delighting in the way the elf’s eyes snapped to the dagger she was holding into the fire again.

„Aww, did you think you were done?“, Zestia taunted. „No, no, no. You‘re far from done, tree rat.“ With those words Zestia pulled out the dagger and slahed it over the previous stab wound.

Fae screamed out in pain, tears springing into her eyes again, making her vision hazy. Her attacker left her no time to breathe, delivering more cuts over her legs, arms and face. It burned and somebody was screaming. Must be her.

Zestia was pondering, using the dagger to tilt her victims chin up. Turning it from side to side slightly, eying it, trying to decide what to do.

Fae‘s screams had died out to mindless grunts. The pain and smell of her own burned flesh making her gag.

„Hmm, I‘m running out of space here. I think it‘s time for a new canvas, don‘t you think?“ She grins in sadistic delight.

“What? You’re gonna heal me?”, Fae asks, trying to keep up an unfazed mask.

“Naww, trying to act brave? Cute. Shouldn’t you know better than to lie to me by now?”

Fae just stares at her.

“Don’t try to hide your fear from me. You don’t get to do that, you understand?”

The elf glares at her but eventually shrinks together.

“Good. But you’re actually lucky, vermin.” Her grin widens, more resembling a baring of teeth. “I have gotten quite tired from this so let’s get you settled in and ready for the night shall we.”

“Stay the hell away from me!”, Fae cried out in fear.

“No. I won’t.”, Zestia replied. Moving closer and to the tied-up girl and starting to fidget with the ropes. After securing those with a magical lock she pulled out a rag and shoved it into the elf’s throat before tying the ends of it too tightly around her head. “There you go.”, she finally said and backed away from her victim. “Have a good rest, I will finish you off tomorrow…”, she laughs and trails a finger from the elf’s cheek down her jaw and throat before starting to settle for the night.

Fae tried to get out as best as she could while the other was re-restraining her but it was pointless. Everything seemed pointless! She couldn’t manipulate her when everything she said or did only fuelled the fire! She couldn’t get out; nobody knew where she was and apparently this woman could decide by will how soon or late her death would come! She didn’t know what to do and it fucking terrified her. How much longer did she have? She wish she could also get some sleep, she was fucking exhausted, but her whole body burned, throbbed, bit or in some way expressed pain. And the fear was releasing too much adrenaline. There had to be a way, some way-Maybe, maybe she could make herself useful to the other. In some way. Evade immediate death and wait until she found a way out. Yes. That was her only option left. This had to work. Somehow. Otherwise…What even did Zestia mean with a blank canvas? Okay no, that just meant that she would heal her, come on Fae, think logical. Think logical…

Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33 (, @princessofhe11, @bisexuawolfsalt)

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unrealgold · 1 year 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.

#creative writing #angst #tw death #amwriting #writeblr #writing

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libidomechanica · 22 days ago

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And she replied: I am your eyes can in good eawes be made

A sonnet sequence

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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?

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.

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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?

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.

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?

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.

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?

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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!

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.

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.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #168 texts #sonnet sequence

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44gamez · 10 months ago

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Dying Light 2 Getting a Game-Changing Update - Firearms Arrive in Villedor

This month marks the second anniversary of the launch of Dying Light 2 Stay Human. As this can be a large milestone, we’re celebrating all month lengthy. Kicking all of it off was the Yr of the Dragon exercise, however that was simply the beginning. Now, we’re able to convey out the large weapons in additional methods than one with our first main replace of 2024: the Firearms Replace. We’re sure this’ll please followers because it brings with it one thing they’ve been asking for, for some time now: weapons! Nevertheless, earlier than we get into the nitty-gritty of what to anticipate from the brand new replace, we’ve obtained some large information: we’re making the ‘Bloody Ties’ DLC free for anybody who already owns the sport! To get it, go to the Xbox Retailer and declare it. However newcomers received’t be unnoticed both: we’re launching a brand new model of the sport, Reloaded Edition, which is able to enable new gamers full entry to the DLC as soon as claimed, too! Now, let’s get into the replace!

Firearms Replace: Absolutely Loaded

Because the identify suggests, the most important half – and arguably an important to our gamers – of the replace is the addition of firearms. Till now, Villedor had been a gun-free zone, with the closest you’d get to a gun being the Boomstick or an auto-firing crossbow, however neither packed the punch of an actual one. Now, gamers will be capable of get their arms on 4 various kinds of firearm: pistols, shotguns, rifles and SMGs. And gamers received’t have to attend lengthy to get their arms on them, as all Pilgrims who’ve accomplished the prologue will discover the ‘Harran Pistol’ of their stash till March 7. However there’s much more to the replace than simply firearms. We’re additionally introducing Survivor Missions, which is able to provide a brand new sort of problem to gamers. Whereas playable solo, these missions are supposed for co-op as they may check your whole abilities, particularly the Elite ones. The preliminary set of Survivor Missions has dropped alongside the replace, with extra being added on February 29 and March 7. On the subject of missions, there are some new postings on the bulletin boards of Villedor. Take them on to assist out the residents and get rewarded! And, in fact, there are extra in-game gadgets for gamers to earn, this time with the addition of fifty extra Legend Ranges and a brand-new reward: the Doppelganger Legend outfit. Moreover, the radio waves are saying a few acquainted faces from the unique Dying Mild are making their method to The Metropolis. Tolga and Fatin will likely be arriving on February 29, and from what we’ve heard they’ll be needing your help. We guess, even sooner or later, it’s cool to be fashionably late. Outdoors the sport, gamers can discover extra bounties to tackle at Pilgrim Outpost which can be particularly designed for Neighborhood Maps. And carrying on from that, a few of our greatest creators have already been onerous at work on a group of latest maps which take advantage of the newly-added firearms.

Hold the Celebrations Going

As we talked about earlier, this month marks our 2nd anniversary and there’s lots extra purpose to have fun with Anniversary Bounties. For the following few weeks, there will likely be three units of 4 missions (every week unlocks a brand new set) for gamers to finish to earn some superior throwback gadgets from the unique Dying Mild and the 2019 E3 trailer: the Scorpio, the Nocturnal Tribal Machete and the Acolyte outfit. Nevertheless, there’s no purpose to panic as in the event you aren’t in a position to begin immediately, you’ll be capable of full Week 1’s bounties in Week 2 or 3 (and Week 2’s bounties in Week 3), so there’s loads of time so that you can nab your rewards! Moreover, the vast majority of the bounties will deal with the replace’s new additions, so you possibly can absolutely expertise them! These particular bounties are activated on Pilgrim Outpost, the place you may as well discover out extra about your complete exercise.

Right here’s to Many Extra

Pilgrims, as we're celebrating this milestone, we’d additionally wish to thanks on your continued assist for a sport we put blood, sweat, tears and UV Shroomz into. With out you, we wouldn’t be right here, so from all of us right here at Techland, a large thanks! We hope you benefit from the first replace of 2024. Sufficient discuss; get on the market and fill the contaminated with lead. Social gathering hats elective. Dying Light 2 Stay Human: Reloaded Editionis now obtainable for buy on Xbox Collection X|S and Xbox One.

Dying Light 2: Stay Human – Reloaded Version

Techland ☆☆☆☆☆ 1040 ★★★★★ $59.99 $29.99 Improve your expertise with Sensible Supply. Purchase the sport as soon as to each play it on Xbox One and get its optimized model for Xbox Collection X | S Get the complete Dying Light 2 Stay Human expertise with Reloaded Version and the free ‘Bloody Ties’ DLC. Please observe: DLC have to be downloaded individually. It’s been 20 years because the occasions of the unique sport. The virus received, and humanity is slowly dying. You play as Aiden Caldwell, a wandering Pilgrim who delivers items, brings information, and connects the few remaining survivor settlements in barren lands devastated by the zombie virus. Nevertheless, your true aim is to seek out your little sister Mia, who you left behind as a child to flee Dr. Waltz's torturous experiments. Haunted by the previous, you ultimately make the choice to confront it if you be taught that Mia should still be alive in Villedor — the final metropolis standing on Earth. You shortly end up in a settlement torn by battle. You’ll want to have interaction in artistic and gory fight, so hone your abilities to defeat hordes of zombies and make allies. Roam town, free run throughout Villedor’s buildings and rooftops in the hunt for loot in distant areas, and be cautious of the evening. With each sundown, monsters take management of the streets. A WORLD AFTER THE APOCALYPSE Fifteen years in the past, humanity was devastated by the Fall — a catastrophic occasion that might change the world eternally. With the Harran virus spreading across the globe, folks shortly came upon that every one hope for tomorrow is misplaced. By 2036, only some settlements stay, and humanity is slowly dying, making manner for the brand new species on the market — a horde of relentless zombies. DAY’S FOR THE LIVING, NIGHT’S FOR THE INFECTED Welcome to Villedor, one of many final bastions of humanity. Through the day, survivors nonetheless attempt to have a life right here and discover a false sense of normalcy. Relationships are fashioned, desires are dreamed, and life carries on. On the floor, every thing appears… high quality. Till sundown, that's. With the final ray of sunshine dying out, different, extra dreadful, dwellers of The Metropolis crawl out of their gloomy interiors, taking on the streets. In case you are not vigilant and keep out too lengthy at nighttime, it's possible you'll by no means return. YOU HAVE TO MOVE TO SURVIVE Not all fights could be received. Generally it’s finest to run and, fortunately, you have got the abilities for it. Parkour allows you to escape when odds aren't in your favor. Soar from rooftop to rooftop, swing throughout the cityscape, trip ziplines, and way more. No matter you do, expertise a novel sense of freedom as you freerun throughout Villedor’s buildings and rooftops in the hunt for loot or whereas working away from the risks of the evening. GET BRUTAL AND BE CREATIVE ABOUT IT In a world as harmful as this one, solely the strongest survive. Whether or not you favor to smash, slice or dismember those that stand in your manner, you must be artistic about it to make it by means of. And who says you want weapons? Make the most of the whole thing of your parkour moveset to get the soar in your enemies. Be taught the methods of fight and parkour to really feel the crunch of skulls and slices of flesh as you swing weapons or use your strikes to fend off any types of hazard. And let’s not neglect that Villedor has weapons that put probably the most superior post-apocalyptic armories to disgrace. FOUR PILGRIMS ARE BETTER THAN ONE Surviving in Villedor is less complicated with buddies. Workforce up with as much as 3 different gamers and improve your probabilities on the market. Unravel the story collectively, tackle Pilgrim Outpost challenges, or just wreak havoc on town streets. Source link Read the full article

#Arrive #Dying #Firearms #gamechanging #Light #Update #Villedor

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geekpopnews · 11 months 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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#Bloody Ties #consoles #dying light #games #PC #playstation #steam #Techland #xbox #Zumbi

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activate-shadow-of-the-window · 1 year ago

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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)

#horizon to horizon au #empires au #empires fanfic #iambic pentameter #dont bloody ask how my brain works #it just decided what if fanfic tragedy was also shakespeare #and ran away with the concept off a bloody flaming cliff #this is one hell of a way to procrastinate #and i started writing among the mountains of everlong to procrastinate on give me back my heart you wingless thing

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