#good lord i got real long winded with this one aha

[uldahstreetrat]

7! how does your wol feel about their hair? is it important to them? just kind of in the way? who cuts it? do they take good care of it or are they not particularly fussed about it?

pre-dawntrail wol questions!

Hair is SUPER important to my characters - as it kinda is to me too aha. I might not actually answer this for any specific character, since I havent really had the chance to just ramble about this, but hair takes on such a significance for my characters. Usually in an unintentional way that I notice later, but that's par for the course for me aha

I think Q'ihnn is one of my better examples of this - his hairstyle up until post ShB was really messy and in his face, he was still hiding from some of the responsibilities he had and was ready to drop it all in a moment's notice if he really felt like it. After the Dying Gasp, he's pushed it back out of his face. It's neater, more taken care of. He's more sure of himself. And I did a similar thing with Anais, her old self constantly had long hair and bangs that were easy to hide herself and her eyes behind, but now she wears it braided and pinned up. She's showing more of herself to the world now.

And by contrast to these two, Ophianne is constantly changing hers. It often sits within the same general vibe, but she changes her hair like she changes clothes. It's constantly at different lengths, it's different colors, it's entirely different styles one expansion to the next - she's still finding who she is but anytime she gets close she runs off to change it again.

Zana has changed hers a lot too! She didn't think much of it at first but after Baelsar's Wall she decided it needed a change, and she'd built enough trust with Q'ihnn as her adoptive father at that point that she asked him specifically to help her with it. She cut it short and dyed more of it blue, and has since kept playing with the styling of it to find something that's more her. And she really seems to have finally found that.

[hawkeyeslaughter]

a comprehensive list of songs and lyrics that remind me of hawkeye pierce ( either about him / his perspective ) ( will be updated )

angst / sad

— johnny cash , hurt — “ what have i become / my sweetest friend / everyone i know / goes away in the end “

— jason isbell , white elephant — “ there’s one thing that’s real clear to me / no one dies with dignity / we just try to ignore the elephants of now “

— todd snider , too soon to tell — “ and dear lord if you’re up there / you sure got some nerve / seems like even the wicked / they get worse than they deserve “

— warren zevon , hasten down the wind — “ she’s so many women / he can’t find the one who was his friend / so he’s hangin’ on to half her heart / he can’t have the restless part / so he tells her to hasten down the wind “

— boy genius , afraid of heights — “ when the black water ate you up / like a sugar cube in a teacup / i got the point you were making / when i held my breath ‘ till you came up “

— surf curse , freaks — “ i am just a freak / my head is filled with parasites / i dream of you almost every night / hopefully i won’t wake up this time “

— dandelion hands , i could have sworn you were dead — “ i could have sworn you were dead / but i saw you in a dream last night / there were flowers growing out of your head / and it made me smile “

— todd snider , carla — “ leaving me was one thing carla / why’d you have to leave so slow / i didn’t mind you walking away / what hurt was how you walked so slow “

— willie nelson , angel flying too close to the ground — “ and i patched up your broken wing / and hung around awhile / trying to keep your spirits up / and your fever down “

fun

— bruce springsteen , born to run — “ together wendy we can live with the sadness / i’ll love you with all of the madness in my soul “

— todd snider , ballad of the devil’s backbone tavern — “ life’s too short to hurry / life’s too long to wait / too short not to love everybody / life’s too long to hate “

— hozier , someone new — “ i fall in love just a little oh , little bit / every day with someone new “

— mgmt , me and michael — “ in every scene , it’s me and michael / imaginary bombs raining down from the clouds / so it seems / the danger will never let the feelings die “

— billy joel , only the good die young — “ we might be laughing a bit too loud / oh , but that never hurt no one “

— alanis morissette , hand in my pocket — “ i’m sad , but i’m laughing / i’m brave , but i’m chicken shit / i’m sick , but i’m pretty , baby “

— aha , take on me — “ take on me ( take on me ) / take me on ( take on me ) / i’ll be gone / in a day or two “

— crosby , stills , & nash , love the one you’re with — “ well there’s a rose / in the fisted glove / and eagle flies / with the dove / and if you can’t be / with the one you love / honey , love the one you’re with “

love songs

— r.e.m , at my most beautiful — “ i found a way to make you / i found a way / a way to make you smile “

— john prine , iris dement , in spite of ourselves — “ in spite of ourselves / we’ll end up sitting on a rainbow / against all odds / honey , we’re the front door prize “

— arctic monkeys , baby i’m yours — “ baby i’m yours ( baby i’m yours ) / and i’ll be yours / until two and two is three “

—the cults , always forever — “ you and me / always forever “

— coldplay , sparks — “ and i know i was wrong / but i won’t let you down / oh , yeah , yeah , yeah i will / yes i will “

old songs

— etta james , one for my baby — “ i could tell you a lot / but i know you got to remain / true to your code / just make it one for my baby / and one more for the road “

— elvis presley , love me — “ treat me like a fool / treat me mean and cruel / but love me “

— frank sinatra , i get a kick out of you — “ some , they go for cocaine / i’m sure that if i took even one sniff / that would bore me terrifically , too / but i get a kick out of you “

— dooley wilson , as time goes by — “ you must remember this / a kiss is just a kiss / a sigh is just a sigh / the fundamental things apply / as time goes by “

— frank sinatra , in the wee small hours of the morning — “ when your lonely heart has learned its lesson / you’d be her’s , if only she would call / in the wee small hours in the morning / that’s the time you miss her most of all “

i have no explanation for these i honestly can just imagine him liking them . or singing them . obnoxiously .

— the gourds , fossil contender — “ well , how would you feel / if i dug up your head ? / well i wouldn’t want to be answerin’ any of your / loaded questions , no “

— counting crows , mr . jones and me — “ mr . jones wishes he was someone just a little more funky / when everybody loves you / oh son , that’s just about as funky as you can be “

— don mclean , vincent — “ and when no hope was left inside on that starry , starry night / you took your life , as lovers often do / but i could have told you , vincent / that this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you “

— warren zevon , werewolves of london — “ you hear them howlin’ around your kitchen door / better not let ‘em in / little old lady got mutilated late last night / werewolves of london again “

— queen , bohemian rhapsody — “ mama , ooh / i don’t wanna die / sometimes wish i’d never been born at all “ ( i’m sorry but you guys know he’d fucking love this song . idk what to tell you . )

— weezer , buddy holly — “ whoo - wee i look just like buddy holly / oh , oh and you’re mary tyler moore “ ( sorry . again . but we know it’s true )

unfortunately i am under the opinion that hawkeye would know all of the pitch perfect songs . there is nothing you can do to sway me from this opinion .

[outlawruben]

The Sweet Sound of Music

This is a Vandermatthews fic I wrote based on a headcannon I had on how Dutch got his Phonograph he keeps in his tent 🫶

(This also includes a first Vandermatthews kiss, and some drunken dancing)

No I totally didn’t start getting tired and forget how to English towards the end.. wdym?? Anyways here it is 🙏💗

The evening became really drab as the sun began to set, another failed mission leading to a shootout. Thankfully they hadn’t experienced any casualties so it was more of a bruised ego than anything on the pair of hucksters. They bought a single bottle of whiskey with their combined pocket change to share between them.

“Shoulda robbed the bastard that sold us this shit, lord knows he overcharged us.” Dutch grumbled to Hosea. “ ‘s what we get I suppose, he knows our occupation..”

“hm.” Dutch replied unsatisfied with Hosea’s reasoning.

Hosea idly swirled the shared bottle. The two of them didn’t have a glass so they had to share it directly. They were as broke as a joke, and the only thing they had to feed themselves was a couple cans of beans and old venison wrapped up nicely in Hosea’s saddle bag, from when he went hunting a few days back.

“I’m so sick of beans, and lord knows I’ve had too much venison.” Dutch started, braking the silence. “We just need one good take- something to fill our pockets with things that sparkle, rather than lint.”

“I agree, being poor is awfully monotonous.” Hosea chuckled with the usual twinkle in his eye after saying something witty.

“Why don’t I start up that phonograph I found the other day?” Dutch suggested. “You know? To see if it works, of course.” He reasoned. “Sure..” Hosea smirked. Dutch inserted the wax Edison cylinder they found separately in an old cottage a week back.

“Hey, you know what this is?” Dutch asked Hosea from across the small cabin. “Looks like a block of dust to me.” Hosea replied, causing Dutch to roll his eyes. “I remember learning about these, few months ago, read about it in a newspaper, never did I think I’d find a real one!” Dutch exclaimed. The older man stepped closer. “Well enlighten me, Mr. Van Der Linde, what is it?”

“It’s a wax cylinder!” Dutch exclaimed, the light catching the excitement in his eyes. “Very impressive.” Hosea snarked. “It plays music!” Dutch smiled. “So what do I do? ask the lady here to sing for us?” Hosea snickered to himself. Dutch’s smile quickly dropped. “Well if you’re going to be such an ass about it, Mr. Matthews..” Dutch grumbled. “Oh come on Dutch, you know I’m joking.” Hosea reassured him. “How does it work?” Hosea asked smiling.

A couple days later, as if it were fate, they stumbled upon a small, absent camp. The campers were clearly away fishing at the stream a few miles down the hill. And there it was. A phonograph, with Dutch’s name written all over it. And boy was it a hassle to quickly hoist up and strap to their horses, but it wasn’t like it was their first time stealing something of this size.

“Who’d leave something like this unattended?” Dutch asked shouting over the wind and hoofbeats. “Clearly someone who doesn’t know you exist, Dutch.” Hosea replied promptly.

Dutch wound the handle and closely listened for any sign of sound from within the horn. Hosea watched in curiosity, brain half buzzed from the whiskey he was nursing. “Aha!” Dutch exclaimed pleased. “It does work.” He smiled at Hosea. “Good, we can sell that thing for two bottles then.” Hosea joked. “Ain’t happening, I’m going to have this phonograph for as long as I live.” Dutch smiled.

“Too drunk to appreciate good music then?” Dutch asked. “No, I’m right as rain.” Hosea said, feigning total sobriety. “Good, cause I’ve got no dance partner.” Dutch hinted, swaying over to Hosea. “That is if you can dance.” Hosea snarked. “Let me prove it to you then.” Dutch charmed. Normally Dutch’s charisma wouldn’t work on a fully sober Hosea, but Dutch seemed to have the upper hand on this one.

Dutch took Hosea’s right hand in his left, and held the small of his back. While Hosea followed suit holding him around to his upper back. “I didn’t know you were so lady like Hosea, why, I would’ve figured you’d gone to an all girl’s finishing school.” Dutch joked. Hosea shook his head. “Sleep with one eye open Mr. Van Der Linde, I’ll teach you proper knife etiquette.”

“Oh ho!” Dutch barked a laugh. “You don’t mean that.” “We’ll see.” Hosea replied. The music was soft, with a slow beginning, and they swayed rhythmically, save for their weakened knees from the slight drunkenness they shared. “I knew you weren’t quite too old for dancing.” Dutch spoke softly to the man in his arms. “I’m not sure what you mean, I’m in my prime.” Hosea mumbled, and Dutch chucked. “No doubt.” Dutch said smiling.

Hosea glanced up at Dutch’s eyes and Dutch returned the gesture. His eyes were round and youthful, and always seemed to catch every twinkle of light surrounding the coffee brown centers. Hosea thought his were getting duller with age, however, Dutch seemed to think otherwise. Dutch could always get lost in Hosea’s eyes, they were deep reddened russet, and seemed to have a ring of honey gold in the center, and they were Dutch’s most prized possessions.

They subconsciously maneuvered closer to each other as they continued to sway. The air between them was warm and smelled strongly of a shared whiskey bottle, and Dutch’s cigar from earlier. Hosea dragged his hand up Dutch’s shoulder and cupped the nape of his neck, his raven black curls sat between Hosea’s fingers. Returning the gesture, Dutch removed his hand from Hosea’s and cupped his cheek, to which Hosea gently planted his other hand on Dutch’s waist.

Hosea gently closed the gap between them, and met his lips to Dutch’s. Both of their eyes flicked closed. Their lips slipped apart and they closed the gap again and again, Dutch hummed in pleasure and readjusted himself to hold both sides of Hosea’s face, as they continued the motion. Hosea knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t help himself, he already accepted the he “wasn’t going to be let in the pearly gates, what’s another sin to add to the list?” He drunkenly reasoned. Besides it was just them, no one else had to know.

The song had ended and they broke apart blushing two innocent school girls. They starred at each other for a beat when Hosea placed his hand on Dutch’s shoulder, the vulnerability of it all sobered him up a notch. Hosea nervously darted his eyes at the ground around them. “I better get some sleep if we are to have any luck on finding a score.” Hosea started quietly. “Sure.” Dutch managed as they broke their embrace and Hosea walked to his tent. “Good night ‘Sea.” Dutch spoke up sheepishly. “Night, Dutch.” Hosea smiled back at him.

[tossawary]

2,500 words of the Moshang Forced Marriage AU, in which the PIDW plot is turned off and Tianlang-Jun doesn’t fall, but this only causes even more problems for Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua. Written on my phone. 

- 

Shang Qinghua stumbled back into his leisure house with a jar of Zui Xian Peak’s best light wine in one hand and a sack of Qian Cao Peak’s tastiest specialty melon seeds in the other. He kicked the door closed, kicked off his shoes, and then kicked back for some quality lounging. 

   “Ahhh, now this is more like it!” he declared, wiggling into the cushions worthy of a head disciple’s house. “It’s all shoving off my chores onto other people from here on out! Having flatcakes on order with a snap of my fingers! Making some other poor bastard deal with Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge - at each other’s throats even at Yue-Shixiong’s nice dinner to celebrate our future ascension, eugh. I’ve really earned this! I’ve suffered enough!” 

   He dropped the sack of seeds onto the side table and fiddled with the wine, embarrassingly clumsy despite the fact that he was sober. As always, he’d been much too chicken-shit to really indulge around other people. He needed his fast reflexes for ducking and running away when he was out and about! Plus, people would freak the fuck out if a transmigrator started running his mouth, giving everyone existential issues and shit, so him waiting until he was alone to drink was really more of a societal service here than sad. 

   The Transmigration System had also been a concern before, but not anymore! 

   Shang Qinghua raised his jar and laughingly declared, “The plot is dead! Long live the free author! Ah, this toast is a little late, but better late than never, huh?” 

   At long last, this transmigrator had managed to get into the Transmigration System’s settings and turn off the plot! It had honestly been a little infuriating just how easy it had been, once he’d hit on the right combination of things to open the right settings menu. There may or may not have been a lot of outraged shrieking and frustrated crying, after all the sweat, blood, and tears he’d shed to become the head disciple of An Ding Peak. All Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had needed to do, in the end, was flick a few buttons from “on” to “off”. Outrageous. 

   “No more missions! No more restrictions! And no more bad endings for anyone! Ah, at least for everyone besides Huan Hua Palace Sect’s old master, that is… but, heh heh, I really think that I and the new Empress Su Xiyan can live with that,” Shang Qinghua muttered, then took a drink, wiggling deeper into his lounging and feeling very good about himself. 

   He felt as free as a bird! As free as the wind! Why shouldn't he celebrate his newfound freedom and future as a Cang Qiong Peak Lord by doing a little bit of nothing at all? 

  Shang Qinghua shamelessly did his best to become a lump. As he toasted to the distant happy couple and the bouncy baby protagonist on his way, with wine and melon seeds both, he removed all but one layer of clothing, tossed his belt and his jewelry on top of the pile, and yanked everything out of his hair. He slid from a sitting position to a totally horizontal one without realizing how it had happened, then he let heavy eyes fall closed with the knowledge that everything was going to be so much better now. 

   A person knew things were good when they could fall asleep just like this. 

   Then a burst of cold air startled him into looking up at a shadowy figure stepping out of nowhere above him. Shang Qinghua shrieked with terror. 

   "SHUT UP!” the shadow snarled. “Get up!” 

   “What- my king?!” 

   Mobei-Jun didn’t wait and grabbed Shang Qinghua by the front of his robes, hauling him to his feet. The wine sloshed against the floor and the melon seeds scattered around them. Shang Qinghua yelped, choked, and then wheezed and flailed, and then yelped again as his loose robes got a little looser with the rough handling and he slipped in Mobei-Jun's grip. 

   "What- get dressed!" Mobei-Jun snapped, and then dragged him into the bedroom right away. 

   "The sight of my naked chest offends you this much, bro?!" Shang Qinghua thought, stumbling along. "There's not enough room in this house for two tits-out outfits?! What the fuck is going on?!" 

   Mobei-Jun threw Shang Qinghua towards the dresser. He just barely managed to catch himself, taking a hard wooden edge to the gut and stubbing his toe on its base, instead of falling and concussing himself at least. Shit! It still hurt, though! 

   "Get dressed!" Mobei-Jun snapped again, pointing at the dresser for emphasis. "Now!" 

   "Right away! Right away, my king!" With shaking hands, his heart thundering in his ears, Shang Qinghua pulled out the first set of robes his fingers touched. 

   "Not those!" 

   "Aah!" 

   Shang Qinghua dropped the robes onto the floor. They were the regular everyday robes of an An Ding Peak disciple, plain and sturdy, something that the demon had seen him in many times before. 

   "Wh- what's wrong with th-these?" 

   "Too plain!" Mobei-Jun barked, and stalked forward to shove Shang Qinghua aside and go through the dresser himself. 

   Shang Qinghua stumbled away and took shelter near his bed, quickly retying his current robes to prevent another fucking nip-slip or worse. He watched with wide eyes as Mobei-Jun threw his clothing to the floor as not good enough. The next drawer was yanked open with so much strength that it splintered and tilted crookedly to one side. 

   "My king, why-?! What's happening?! Are- are we going somewhere?! Who does this servant have to impress?!" 

   Mobei-Jun finished throwing aside everything in this drawer and tried to shove it back in, but it was too broken to be moved. The demon snarled, yanked the entire drawer from the dresser with another terrible splintering sound, and threw the drawer out of his way. It hit Shang Qinghua in the chest and sent him sprawling back onto his bed. 

   He lay there and wheezed without shoving it away, just feeling the impact rattle through his ribs. He heard another drawer splinter. 

   "Ah, so this is how I die?" he thought. "Just as expected: with a bang AND a whimper." 

   He pushed the drawer to one side and sat up, only to be smacked in the face with the robes thrown at him. They were the nicest robes he owned. The An Ding Peak Lord had ordered them for him for the coming ascension of a new generation of Peak Lords, so they had all sorts of fancy embroidery and several heavy layers, which meant Shang Qinghua fell back against the bed again under their weight when they hit his head. He sat up again and then gawked at these robes he had never worn and wasn't supposed to wear yet- 

   "Tianlang-Jun." 

   "Aha, what?" Shang Qinghua looked at the demon lord scowling at him. "My king…? What about Tianlang-Jun…? This- no. What?! My king, you can't mean to take this servant before the Demon Emperor, that would be ridic-" 

   "Get dressed," Mobei-Jun snapped. 

   "It's not Tianlang-Jun, right? Why-?! What's really going on here? Are we going somewhere? Are we meeting someone?" 

   Shang Qinghua got to his feet, but he didn't dare put the fancy robes on, like being nearly naked would save him from being dragged off anywhere else. No amount of nice clothing would ever make the likes of this displaced author impressive to the likes of the OP Demon Emperor, finally sitting on his late sister's throne. 

   "This servant can't serve his king to the best of his abilities unless he knows what the-" 

   "My father is dead!" 

   “...Wh… what?” 

   Mobei-Jun’s expression was like a thunderstorm. Shadows curled around his clenched fists, as light and heat fled this room that was suddenly even smaller than Shang Qinghua remembered it being. 

   "My father…" Mobei-Jun repeated, slowly, daring Shang Qinghua not to understand a second time. "...is dead." 

   Shang Qinghua stared in horror, the robes slipping out of his hands, which itched to count all the years that had just been skipped even though he knew he didn't have enough fingers. Thirty years or so? Definitely more than twenty. His breath came out in a trembling fog as he demanded: 

   "H-how?!" 

   "Tianlang-Jun," Mobei-Jun said again, through gritted teeth. 

   Good point! Good point! Who the fuck else could it be? The real question was why the fuck?! And also what the fuck was Shang Qinghua of all people supposed to do about clashes between OP demon lords?! 

   Mobei-Jun advances on Shang Qinghua, the shadows in his fists writhing like he's strangling them. "Tianlang-Jun took offense to some of my clan's foolish disrespect towards his human Empress and he made an example of my father. He has threatened to destroy the body unless a suitable gesture is made." 

   "But… the power of your ancestors…" 

   Mobei-Jun, looming over him, shoved him down to his knees to pick up the robes he had dropped, and snarled: "Get dressed." 

   Shang Qinghua snatched up the robes and skittered away to dress himself up for the slaughter. His heart was racing fast, but his mind seemed to be going even faster, almost too fast to actually think and also do things like make sure clothes weren't inside-out as he put them on. 

   The power of the Mobei clan rested in the ascension ritual in which the new king "consumed" the body of the old king. Spiritually and… er… possibly also physically? Shang Qinghua had no idea if the System had picked up on those implications or not. Anyway, if Mobei-Jun's father's body was destroyed, then he wouldn't receive that power-up necessary to enforce his rule, which would make him the target of every ambitious cousin and every greedy neighbor. The Mobei clan would probably fall into civil war and the rest of the northern kingdoms would follow them into bloody battle. 

   Shang Qinghua's favorite character, currently glaring at him for the fancy clothes probably making him look even less fancy by comparison, was sure to die. Mobei-Jun's shitty uncle had probably already picked the poisoned knife with which to stab him in the back. 

    "My king… what… what gesture is being made here…? This servant… this servant really needs to know how he's supposed to be of service…" 

   Shang Qinghua also needed to know whether or not he needed to take the first available window to run away. He definitely wasn't above leaping out of literal windows. If Mobei-Jun intended on hanging him over to Tianlang-Jun as a human sacrifice or some shit, then promises of loyalty might expire a lot sooner than originally planned! 

   At the question, Mobei-Jun's expression only darkened and the room darkened again with it. The cold seemed to spread from Shang Qinghua's skin deep into his twisting chest.

   "Marriage," Mobei-Jun said, again through gritted teeth. "Tianlang-Jun has suggested marriage to a human as a worthy gesture." 

   "M-marriage?" 

   Mobei-Jun looked so fucking murderous that Shang Qinghua knew he hadn't misheard. He had to have misheard, though, because this was absurd. 

   "Marriage betw-between me and- and…?" 

   "Yes." 

   "And… you?" 

   "Yes." 

   Shang Qinghua should have been given an award for not fainting dead away. The System should have given him a million points for every second he managed to stay conscious, except… the System had essentially been turned off. No more points. No more plot. 

   No more Proud Immortal Demon Way plot, at least. 

   Ah, was this some kind of warped vacuum effect? A new plot come to take its place? 

   "There will be great riches." 

   Shang Qinghua refocused on the demon glaring at him. Riches?! What the fuck did riches have to do with anything right now?! 

   "Mobei Clan is the second strongest in the Demon Realm," Mobei-Jun informed him, but the demon was kind of scowling like he resented this now, instead of bragging. "You would not have to work again." 

   It was a really fucking weird day when being told that his Dream Guy wanted him and that he'd never had to work again was somehow bad news. It almost sounded like Mobei-Jun was… was… trying to persuade Shang Qinghua to marry him by offering wealth, power, and a life of indolence. All things that would tempt most people! Especially blindly greedy, thigh-hugging sect traitors like his character! 

   "Did… did Tianlang-Jun tell you… to just pick any human?" Shang Qinghua asked faintly. "There weren't… there weren't any requirements…?" 

   Clearly Mobei-Jun didn't want to be tied to Shang Qinghua of all humans! 

   "He asked - laughingly - if none of us knew any humans. I said that I did." 

   Okay, Shang Qinghua fully believed that Mobei-Jun didn't know any other humans. Mobei-Jun was on a deadline and didn't have time to go find the most acclaimed matchmaker or anything. By default, Shang Qinghua was the best, most handsome, most skillful, most wellborn, most desirable, and altogether most marriageable human Mobei-Jun knew - and he was not feeling super fucking thrilled by this victory. 

   "What… what did my king say about me..? What is the Demon Emperor expecting?" Shang Qinghua could only hope expectations had been set on the floor, preferably into the floor or maybe even underground. 

   "A disciple of Cang Qiong in my service." 

   "Oh…" 

   "Fix your robes." 

   "What? Oh, shit. Right away!" 

   Shang Qinghua didn't have a lot of experience wearing robes this nice and Mobei-Jun barking at him to look less like shit wasn't helping. The fact that he was sweating from nerves and his fingers were still shaking a little also wasn't helping. He skittered around to add tasteful ornaments and jewelry, some of which got violently rejected by Mobei-Jun as too ugly to show anyone, but looking down at himself, he mostly just felt like he was throwing shiny gold onto a pile of crap. How could this really fool anyone?  

   "My king, what… what am I supposed to say to the Demon Emperor? Do you want me to lie? To the Demon Emperor?!" 

   "Do not speak unless spoken to." 

   Sure, Shang Qinghua could do that, but was he really supposed to leave the talking to Mobei-Jun?! To Mobei-Jun?! The protagonist's right-hand man had not been known for his silver tongue! Did he think people weren't going to have questions? Like, "How the fuck do you know some random human?" Or, "Holy shit, you're really going to marry THAT one?" 

   "Isn't… my king, isn't Tianlang-Jun well known for his interest in humans and human stories… though...?" 

   Love stories! Shang Qinghua was pretty sure that the man loved a good love story! How the fuck were he and Mobei-Jun supposed to pull off a love story? And make it a love story compelling enough to convince a pissed-off Tianlang-Jun to grant the Mobei Clan mercy? Shang Qinghua wasn’t totally sure he was going to be able to do anything besides break down sobbing and curl up into a pathetic ball on the floor. 

   Mobei-Jun's face twisted slightly, in the way of an angry demon who didn't want to admit that his lowly human servant actually had a super great point. Tianlang-Jun had already proven himself a man who liked to play with his food a little. 

   "Do not tell some story," Mobei-Jun snarled finally. "Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not lie." 

   "Of course! Of course! Very wise not to lie to him!” Shang Qinghua told himself to focus on the logistics here; he was the logistics man; it was what he did. If he just kept focusing on the details, he didn’t have to think about the bigger picture. “This servant will remain silent until called upon, which… when… my king, when will that be? Tomorrow morning? I have to tell-" 

   "Now." 

  "-my martial sib- what?!" 

   "Now," Mobei-Jun repeated. "He is waiting." 

[trans-siberian-orchestra-life]

Night Castle

Hi all! I will be posting mini-reviews of my favorite parts from each TSO album! I will go over band personnel, the story, and the music! Please enjoy! 

Night Castle was released in 2009, and was TSO’s second non-Christmas album! It is also their longest, with 26 total songs, and, to me at least, their most emotional album to date.

The album features many familiar faces, with lead singers being Jay Pierce, Jeff Scott Soto, Tim Hockenberry, Rob Evan, and Jennifer Cella. The band personnel is also very familiar, with Paul O’Neill, Chris Caffery, Angus Clark, Al Pitrelli, and Alex Skolnick on guitar, Robert Kinkell, Jon Oliva, Luci Butler, Shih-Yi Chang, Jane Mangini, and Derek Wieland on keyboards, Chris Altenhoff and Johnny Lee Middleton on bass, Roddy Chong and Anna Phoebe on violin and strings, and John O.Reilly and Jeff Plate on drums. And, with Dave Wittman on, as all TSO albums say, “drum, guitar, and bass inserts for those little things the rest of us forgot.”

It also features Emerson, Lake, and Palmer's Greg Lake on bass for Nutrocker!

And, not to mention the numerous amazing backing vocalists and instrumentalists!

Its a big album with big personnel, a big story, and even bigger music. Lets get into that~

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Night Enchanted

-Best hard opening to a TSO album

-HEEERE belieeeve a nigHT ENCHANTED S̸̟͋̉̔͛̀͋̃̑̑̈́̏̅̈́È̵̡̜̼̞͔̖̩̦̟̞̣͈̑̄̽̒͝E̸̛͖̯͙̜͕̟̽̈́̃̉̿̏̈͛̌͆̔̂́ͅE̵͙̙̞̯͚̹̲̟̙͐̀͑̍͊̚͜Ẹ̷̡͇̹͍̓̈́̏͑̄̅̀̎̈́̓̚E̶̛̱̖̘͓̹͍̟̭̲̲̽͋͒̀̓E̵͓̰̠̤̻̪̣̎͊̎͒N̴̢̧̜̰̦̰͓̯̗̦͚̘̝̑̔̌͂͐̀͊

-Very different song, like,,VERY DRAMATIC. ExtrEMLEY DRAMATIC

-Based on Verdi’s Requiem and Dies irae

-Has the Child Of the Night aria sandwiched in the middle

-So the falcon character sings the aria

-I don’t know how that works either

-then it KICKS IN AGAIN FULL POWER

-The pounding opening guitar motif that repeats is amazing

Childhood Dreams

-A very classical-based song, like, its very operatic

-The “controversial” song on the album. Only because people either love it or hate it. I love it. Its fun.

-CHILDhood CHILDhood CHILDhood

-Jay is singing from his SOUL here

-Lyrics are very whimsy:

“But then it's known to catch our eye And dare us all to once more try And with a childhood faith believe And that magic to retrieve As childhood dreams ...”

-Overall solid song

-The slow piano that kinda hangs back the entire time is great

-I love the way he sings the line “But suddenly inside the dark, she sees the magic of the sparks...”

Sparks

-Old-school rock n roll song

-One of my favs off the album, its just so, idk..classic sounding?

-”Tell me when...Ḁ̷̯͖͉̽̎̔͋̀̽͗͐͂̊̌̇̕A̸̢̳̪͉͓̼̟͑Å̷̛̛̜̈́̆̀̆͂͋̊͐͗̔͑̇Ḩ̸͋̿̓̆͋͛͌͐͑͆̕̕Ḣ̷̨̙̺̦͚͓̠̀̿́͝H̴̗̮̎̽̀́̓̏̓̋̚H̶̼̘̩̱͖̻͎͒́Ḩ̶̢̧͓̲̼͇̼̱͓̱̞̖͕̀̽̾̒̚̕͠ͅ”

-It actually has “AHHH” in the CD booklet I kid you not

-Its a tad long ill admit but it rocks so hard you hardly notice

-The old school chugging guitar riff rocks

-”Leaving marks...SPARKS!”

-Just a classic song, nuff said

The Mountain

-eyyyy first Savatage cover- based n Prelude to Madness! From Hall of the Mountain King!

-The atmosphere is REAL

-The windy sound effect in the opening, the deep bells AH so good

-A familiar melody, and MAN they give it their best

-They speed up gradually over time, and it just gets to the point where its ridiculous how much is going on in the song

-These guys are so talented I swear

-The solo at 4:09 KICKS

Night Castle

-Jeff Scott Soto giving me life, once again

-Very different sounding song I believe, not many other TSO songs sound like it

“Am I risking my own life...my life..?

-OK also I SWEAR in the last 4th of this song, when the slow bit hits, the melody is EXTREMELY CLOSE to the opening to Mephistopheles, from Beethoven's Last Night. It may just be coincidence, but it sounds like an Easter egg to me. Or maybe I’m just crazy. AHA. 

-The falling synth piano bits at 1:55. Yes.

-Song gets creepy with the minor change at the end

-I LOVE the last few seconds its so peppy and pretty, like that piano is so gentle

The Safest Way Into Tomorrow

-And I’m crying already, thanks Paul.

-They used this song for the tribute to Paul O’Neill in the 2017 live show. And i get so sad every time I hear it now. Like a melancholy feel now.

“Morpheus is at your side, offering the wings to fly, and be there..”

-Thanks Morpheus

-This line hits me right in the feels every time:

“Be there, free from Earth to sail across this night, where stars are all eternal”

-The piano build at 3:15 mmmm

-BEEEE THEEEEEERE

-BEEEEEE THEEEEEEERE

-BEEEEEEE THEEEEEEEEEERE

-BEEEEEEEE THEEEEEEEEEEEERE NOOOOOWWW

-”And tell me what you...see!”

-I cry

-Also may I note how I LOVE that every character that TSO makes looks like an 80′s rocker. Like look at my dude Morpheus. And Tran-Do. Never stop TSO, never stop.

(Morpheus^)

Mozart and Memories

-Second Savatage cover!

-Very eerie

-Fits with the “dream” thing going on in the story at this point

-The guitars are the best part at 0:42, that melody is so eerie and cool

-The pianos and strings at 0:24 hit me hard, VERY well recorded there

-It gets real fast at the end

-TSO and classical covers are such a good combo

Another Way You Can Die

-TSO got PG.

-Like look: 

“And the tracers probe on 'Till a close friend is gone And you find yourself embracing ground”

-and:

“I see a figure in my rifle sight Who does not know that he's there And as I hesitate to take his life The ground explodes My blood it flows My heart is racing Times escaping As I feel it slowly scraping by”

-like holy hell

-Like I love the song don’t get me wrong

-But lord Paul went all out here

-He was NOT holding back

-PAULS GOT A MESSAGE TO GET ACROSS AND LORDY HES GONNA DO IT ANY WAY HE CAN

-That end piano drop mY HEART HURTS

Toccata - Carpimus Noctem

-TSO has mastered Christmas, TIME FOR HALLOWEEN MUAHAHA

-Literally its such a good cover. They keep the classic classical intro, with synth and guitars of course, but then they go full metal with it.

-I love the weird guitar lick at 1:49, it really stands out

-Yet another guitar solo featured song and mmm its good

-Also, the DRUMS ARE AMAZING IN THIS ONE

The Lion’s Roar

-Third Savatage cover kind of

-The second half is from Temptation Revelation from Gutter Ballet

-As a trumpeter, I love this song, as it is TSOs only trumpet-featured song.

-The first half is a very military-esque (Fits with the story, eh?) trumpet solo on The Minstrel Boy. This song is very accurate as it is usually played at military events or funerals.

-Which makes me even sadder because of the context of thE STORY

-Nice little interlude song

Dreams We Conceive

-EMOTIONS.

-The opening organ, it its me right in the HEART.

-You can just HEAR the sorrow in his voice in this song.

-The way he sings “Where the dreams die...as the blood dries...”

-Too relatable my soul can’t take it.

-His little voice quiver on the word “do” in the line ‘WHat else is the night to do..”

“As you stand all Alone at your station What if God doesn't Know where you are As you send out your Prayers for salvation But afraid that They don't go that far

So you wait all Alone in your darkness There's a train that drives on Through the night And if everyone's On it except us Would it return for That single life

In a city After midnight Neath the halo Of a street light”

-Its just so LONELY SOUNDING this man needs a hug

Mother and Son

-I used to skip this track before I understood it in context to the story.

-Then I felt emotions

-You can find the translation HERE.

-Imagine you past self looking at you and saying “How did I become you?” TO YOUR FACE

-savage

There Was A Life

-ENTER ROB EVAN

-This song man,,,the emotions are REAL

-The way he sings the word “life” in the opening line

“Can someone tell me Can someone say when The writer of this story Will just tell us how it all will end?”

-I relate too much to that

-Paul asking the real questions of life: “ Is there forgiveness for hesitation?”

-The HURT in his voice when he sings “DEAR GOD” at 3:14

-Robbbb why you gotta kill me like this

-The piano is superb at 4:22

-Captures the vibe perfectly

“Are you scared of your life? Are you scared of your death? Though that day will arrive Well it hasn't come yet...”

-Calling me out like that huh

-His “ALIIIIIIIIIVE” at 8:37 oh my LORD

-I’m feeling ALL the emotions

Moonlight and Madness

-OK. So I can’t think of which piano player it was, I’m thinking either Kinkel or Weiland, I could be wrong...BUT. Paul said in an interview once that the songs piano was recorded in one take. ONE TAKE THAT INTRO. He just FLEW INTO IT PERFECTLY.

-Its a wild song, based on the moonlight sonata. 

Time Floats On

-This song man..this song

-*Insert seagull meme here* “tiiiiime flllOAATS OOOOON!!!”

-It was one of the first TSO songs I ever heard

-The crazy contrasting piano bit in the middle AH its cool

-Such an eerie song really

-”Time floats on...as I write these letters that you'll never see...”   ;-;

-this song has so much heart

Epiphany

-OK HERE WE GO

-TSOs longest song

-TSOs most emotional song

-I’m crying again

-The SHEER HURT and SORROW in Rob’s voice when he sings “ I fear the night, I fear the dark, I need this light...that distant spark...”

-The fast bit at 3:52...I don’t think Rob breathed once during that recording.

-The spoken part was a bold choice, TSO has never done that before. I liked it a lot, its a great addition to the song. 

-The subtle harmonies in the “Somewhere”s...amazing.

-and MAN. The LYRICS.

“Did you ever walk up To the edge of a cliff Stare into the abyss As your mind wonders if You should take one more step Further into that night Well your mind says you won't But your heart says you might Would you fall through the dark Feel the wind in your hair Would you embrace the ground And end your life right there Or would god reach his hand And that moment you fly Or if he chanced to blink And then, that moment you die You die...”

-Like GEEZ that is heavy stuff

-This is the “contemplating death song”

“Be who you are What you were What they see From eternity's view Tell me which one is me?”

-Relatable. holy heck.

-He sounds like hes about to cry when he sings “Hold me close...”

-Like me too Rob. Me too.

-”This all is your....life..."

-You feel DRAINED by the end of it, like wow. The emotion, the power, my soUL. MY HEART.

Bach Lullaby

-A nice calming music box medley of the C major prelude.

-OK SO TSO SHOULD ACTUALLY MAKE LITTLE MUSIC BOXES THAT PLAY THIS HOLY HECK ID BUY 50

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost

-The OTHER most EMOTIONAL SONG on the album

-First half: pain, sorrow, regret, melancholy, slow piano...

-The EMOTION in the line “ Never quite there but it's never quite gone, you are the star that is wished upon...forever....”

-Second half: RAGE. ANGER. FIRE. AAAHHHHH.

-The main guitar riff is so heckin powerful

-Lyrics literally have this background in it: “...she raged against all those citizens of apathy and willful ignorance who lived behind the sacrifices of others.”

-The high piano swapped out for low guitar and bass melodies, a heavy mood, and pounding drums

-”...You cling to that card, Father, Son & Holy Ghost”

-You FEEL THE RAGE

-It has the most metal lyrics:

“And Christ and Confucius Are all their words useless We quote them in fractions But not in our actions”

-Like WOW

Remnants of a Lullaby

-A simple, but pretty song

-Very calming, and a nice breather from the song before

-The feeling in “ What to keep, what to save...”

”Wished on coins Childhood wings Carousels Still turning Waiting there patiently Remnants of a lullaby...”

-IM A KID AGAIN

The Safest Way Into Tomorrow (Reprise)

-dangittt I’m crying AGAIN

-album comes full circle here in the most emotional way possible

-especially when you consider the context of the story at this point aahhHHH

-Soto owns my soul

Embers

-OK, just..I love this song. Simple as that.

-This is pure atmosphere.

-Listen to it. Bonfire. Embers soaring to the stars above. Fireflies all around. Friends sitting with you at the camp fire. Acoustic guitar playing. A perfect summers night.

-Just...perfection.

Child of the Night

-Eyyyyy the aria again. It grows on yah.

-Very relaxing.

-Just brings that calming night vibe to life.

-Makes yah feel like a kid again.

Believe

-AAAAND the TSO song everyone knows for one reason or another. 

-Also one of the more emotional ones on the album.

-A cover of the Savatage song off Streets

-I love this version, (No offense Jon), like idk why exactly...it just feels more..personal? Idk, maybe its just because of the sheer emotional journey we just went on lol.

-It builds spectacularly, and the emotion is all in in this one. 10/10 great cover.

Nutrocker

-YAYY JUST HAD AN EMOTIONAL AND HEARTBREAKING JOURNEY, TIME FOR HAPPY FUN CHRISTMAS EMMERSON LAKE AND PALMER NUTCRACKER SONG YAYY

-Heh I kid I kid

-It features Greg Lake on bass!

-This song ROCKS man it ROCKS

-TSO does SO WELL WITH THIS

-The fast piano, the amazingly melodic guitar melody, the rock bits with a jazz break sandwiched in between AH.

Carmina Burana

-This is also one of my favs off the album.

-I believe this is also the song that got some conservative folks mad at TSO for being “satanists” by playing this. It was the latin I think. 

-Doesn’t matter, this song is epic. Very bombastic.

-It builds so well, and the repeated guitar and bass riffs make it feel so pounding I love it.

Tracers

-Ok so this song and I have history.

-I originally didn’t like this song (woah, right?)

-It just didn’t click. Buuuuut, TSO did it live in 2018, and BOI that changed everything. I loved it after that. Its top 25 TSO songs for me now. 

-IDK what they did or how they did it, but after the live show, I loved it. Past me was wrong. This song ROCKS.

-The pounding opening is iconic

-The soaring guitars

-The weird interval medley at 0:49 is so cool

-The main melody KICKS at 1:00

-My fav bit is the surreal acoustic bit at 2:06

-Its SO GOOD

-The repeated 5 notes at like 1:34 are so driving

-The descending bit at 2:55!!!

-and the BUILD UP TO THE VOCAL PART AT 3:32 OH MAN POETIC CINEMA

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And there you have it!!! Night Castle! To me, its the most emotional album of the lot. And the most atmospheric. Its long, but its a wild ride the entire time. The story is sad but inspiring, the music is legendary, the art is beautiful, so all around, this, to me, may be their best album in terms of general scoring. What do you think?

Thanks for reading ya’ll! You rock!

[vivilice]

Regret (1)

No warnings

Genre: romance, Otherworldy, fantasy, LGBT+

A wind swept paper petals up towards the sky. A grand castle surrounded by a red sky lay in silence. The servants and stewards of this place all have a fabricated hearts. Only three residents carry a body of flesh and blood. A human with eyes of God and one arm. Who carries a promise with the two others. A dragon who has been around the longest and watches the other two from afar. Who carries his hobbies with vigor. A demon born from resentment which took a paper rose as his vessel. Who keeps the title of Devil and would rather spend time with the two others than those from outside.

The living room was dimly lit. Rosell sat on the windowsill one foot dangling down and with crossed arms. He looked outside at the rain. Hell was soaking with sound of roaring thunder in the distance. It was pleasant to hear. Really making the comforts of home more cozy.

“Wow, it’s thundering like crazy out there. I wonder if it’ll come closer.” A bright young woman sat down beside the Devil. Her peach skin illuminated every time a bolt of lightning lit the sky. Her long unruly blond hair fell nicely on her shoulders. Her smile warmed the Devil who she called brother everytime he looked at it. 

A nice scent came sneaking in on them. It came directly from the kitchen which was placed beside the living room. A young looking man came strolling in. He wore a blue dress with a nice fluffy jacket, an apron and oven mittens while carrying stew. A long blue and white tail closed the kitchen door behind him. His slitted eyes screamed mischievous and his grin was painted a bright red.

 “Food’s served.” He sang. The young woman, who was named Dina Ravenwood, who sat beside the Devil got up and darted to the dinning table. The man with the dragon’s tail, named Ikle Raveice sat down beside her and served her a portion of his cooking. He looked at his younger brother who still sat at the window. “Come eat with us already! I made your fav stew, you know.” Rosell Chartam Ibaraki, the Devil of the Fabricated Hell, stood up and sat down beside Ikle.

The little family sat and ate. Chatting about Dina’s school, about demonic affairs, about fashion and then. Dina,“Oh yeah! Today in religion I got in a heated discussion with two of the boys from the other class.” Ikle sniggered, “Wow, pro’lly ‘cause they had their own version of the Devil and such, huh? Not like anyone know the right answer right?” Ikle said, elbowing the Devil. Dina laughed and stuck her tongue out for her dragon brother. “Why are you booing me I’m right!” Ikle’s use of an old meme earned him another elbow.

“Actually,” Dina began after she had stopped laughing. “We were talking about resentment toward God and how The Devil...is driven by only that, hate.” Hearing Dina say that Rosell could only keep eating. 

A shadow fell over Rosell’s features and he stared out of the window again. Ikle gulped loudly and gestured for Dina to change subject. Dina however, was quite nosy.

“Rosell? I argued against them because I know better, right.” She continued. Without hesitating Rosell answered, “Nah, they’re pretty much right. But you know that too. If it wasn’t for that god-for-nothing, i’d-“ Dina, “You’d what?” Silence feel over the room. “Isn’t that quite dumb?” Rosell turned his head, seething anger started to rise. he clenched his fists.

Dina’s face was stern and Ikle could only sigh. “Dina.” Rosell began, trying to keep his voice calm. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You know what he did.”  Dina was relentless, “I know he killed them. But didn’t you kill his forces too?” Rosell became angrier, he almost said something until Dina said, “Didn’t you want to be able to be left unrestrained? Is this your anger? You didn’t know any of them! Neither the circumstances surrounding why God saw it as a necessity to... ok I won’t defend mass murder. But... you hate a guy you never really met. And for what? The resentment your predessecors formed you from?” 

Silence filled the room after Dina spoke. Suddenly, a loud humm broke out. Rosell turned his head and was met with the biggest “I told you bro!” Face from Ikle. 

All the anger which had been built up suddenly dissapeared as if a witch had swung her staff. It dawned on Rosell.

She was right.

Ikle looked at Dina who returned the look. Then back to Rosell who stared at his plate Suddenly, Dina couldnt take her brother’s silence anymore. 

“Uhh, Rosell? Sorry, I just wanted-“ Dina didn’t get the chance to finish. “You’re right.” “Huh?” It blurted from Ikle. Rosell rested his chin in his hand and looked troubled.

Rosell, “You’re absolutely right.”

~

Footsteps rang out throughout the Heavens. A colorful seraph darted around God’s abode to try and find the lord. Finally, after opening the absolute last door in the whole palace the angel found God.

A big white coat, with splotches of dried paint, floated around a being with a dimmed aura. With colorless hair tied loosely by the neck, held by a huge bead. A young man rotated his body to show a patchwork of vitiligo on his skin. Big round glasses surrounded his eyes which were two differen colors, one blue one and one purple. He broke into a smile, “Miza!! What is it?” The seraph stood straight and answered, “Young lord Bell, I-I believe I found Strezia’s daughter!!!!”

Colorful eyes widened and the smile became bigger. The God jumped into his angel’s embrace and celebrated with gusto, jumping up and down. “Are you for real?! Then what are we waiting for? Hurry and let’s go already!!!”

The seraph staggered and tried to readjust themselves, “Bell,uh Bell. Remember. It’s the human realm we are going to. You need to hide your aura!” Baltazar, the God of The World of Allure smiled, “Well, I think I will need your help... you know. My art block and all.” The seraph called Miza didn’t answer. Only giving a knowing nodd and then the two were on their way.

~

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?!” Baltazar almost started crying. The lady behind the counter  couldn’t help but fidget while Baltazar got closer and closer up in her face.

“Bell... calm down. They can’t just give out the information like that.” Baltazar turned to look at Miza, “But, but. Then how will we...” “Excuse me, sirs?” Both turned to the lady, who was in charge of the orphanage register. “Like I said.” She began. “I can’t just give out addresses at random. And since you can’t prove that you’re related to this woman, then it doesn’t look good for your search...”

Baltazar’s face turned gloom. It was like all the color around him died out and became grey. 

“But there might just be a way.”

Instantly, Baltazar’s face brightened up. The woman behind the counter turned in her seat and began pressing keys on her computer and click around with her mouse. 

“You see... five years ago. A woman related to miss Ravenwood came to search for her as well. She left her business card. It’s all I can give you as of now.” She reached for a file and pulled out a small dull business card.

Baltazar took the card and thanked the lady profusely. Then he darted out the door with Miza dangling behind him.

“So... huff, huff what now?” Miza inquired. Baltazar stopped on a sidewalk and turned to Miza, “Hold out your hands. I need some inspiration.” Miza held out her hands and they both closed their eyes. After minute standing like that, earning the two weird looks from pedestrians they knew where to go.

~

Penelope power walked down the lane in centrum. She kept looking at her watch and walked faster and faster. She had done it so many times that even her stilettos gnawing at her heels wasn’t a bother anymore. Just slap on some patches and then she would be fine! Oh well, she also had to call Dina and wish her luck on her test and then there was that new apartment opening and then. Umpf!

Penelope, “watch were you’re going!” Staggering back from the impact Penelope surveyed the person in front of her. Messy, oversized coat, bleached hair, smudged glasses, and ... heterochromia? Without noticing Penelope had begun to sneer at the jaywalker. “Uh... I’m! I’m so sorry.” The man begun to bow up and down. So much that Penelope felt nauseous just looking at the other, she asked him or was it a her? To stop.

After the person stopped Penelope made her way to leave until her wrist was grabbed. 

Big mistake.

Penelope had practiced martial arts since grade school. She was quite proud of her hand palm block and wrestled the attacker’s hand backwards. A pitiful scream was released and people around the two stared in disbelief. This attacker had to be a man. In Penelope’s opinion it was always men who gave the most ear-piercing scream.

While Baltazar’s soul was about to leave his body, a new guy appeared. “Wait, ms Ravenwood!” Penelope looked at the newcomer. With disdain she said, “Who are you and why do you know my name?” The new guy straightened his back and answered with a slight tremble, “Please, we uh, we wish to speak to you. About Dina.” With those words Penelope let Baltazar go.

~

“You’re Dina’s father’s acquaintance?” Penelope asked and sipped her free coffee, the two others had brought for her.

The attacker was named Baltazar and the other one, who Penelope had thought to be man, Miza. Both sat opposite from her inside a coffee shop. 

The two nodded and Baltazar began, “Yeah, we got your business card at the register. We really didn’t want to bother you... or maybe, just bother you about Dina.” He shrugged helplessly.

Penelope sighed, “I see. Next time don’t jolt me like that. I nearly got a heart attack, you know!”

Both bowed their head to apologize. 

“Well, never mind anymore.” She said to make them stop. “I just need to know if you have any proof of your relations. You must know I just can’t send any stranger over to my niece.”

Miza had an aha moment and rummaged around in her purse. “Is the person on the right familiar in any way?” She asked, while pointing to a picture of two people she pulled out of her purse.

Penelope’s face dropped. 

She asked for the photo and studied it close.

  “It really... is her. Marie...” Penelope said, caressing the picture with her free hand. Her eyes got glassy.

“I see. Only two copies exist of this one. That’s what Marie told me... very well then. Tell me what you want with Dina and then I’ll tell you we’re to find her. But i warn you!” She said, pointing with a stern finger. “If i hear you tried anything fishy, i’ll find some means to drag you two through Hell! If not Dina’s brothers does it first!”

Baltazar held up his hands and broke into a big happy but nervous smile, “We! just wanted her to know about her father and maybe get closure to questions she may have...”

Penelopepaused. then she smiled and then wrote down an address. “She lives with her adoptive brothers. Get along with them and then you’ll get along with Dina.”

~

The building in front of God and his seraph were quite foreboding. Vines crawled up the walls and held the building in a tight embrace. The leaves were so dense it was hard to know which color the house originally held. 

Baltazar started to sweat. He strolled nervously up to the entrance and was about to knock when he heard incoming footsteps. 

“I’ll be back later dolls, I just need to...” a young blondie opened the door and was met by Baltazar’s stupefied look. Miza straightened her uniform and looked directly at Dina.

Baltazar, “May you be... miss Dina Ravenwood?”

Dina closed the door somewhat and hid behind it to shield her.                     “That depends on... What business you two may have...”

Baltazar fretted And didn’t know what to say. His divine power revealed her identity, however he couldn’t just reveal his true form to her. She may be the daughter of a seraph but she shouldn’t get scared.

“Ah! I’m so sorry. Let me introduce me and my companion. I’m Baltazar Farver and this is Miza.” Miza bowed slightly to Dina, “How do you do.” She said.

Dina opened the door some more to look better at the two oddballs on front of her.

“We! Uh, we are acquainted with you dad and we wish to tell you about him and maybe get to know...you?” Dina’s eyes lit up, then she became more apprehensive.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth.” Baltazar looked at Miza in defeat. Miza took the hint and coughed slightly, “Miss Ravenwood. We only have this picture of your mother together with your father.” She gave Dina the picture. Dina’s blue eyes shone like small stars and she looked at the two more brightly. 

“Thank you so much!!! Please, come in come in. I’ll be happy to know you! My brothers are not home yet but they’ll be home soon!” Miza and Baltazar breathed out in relief. They began to step into the small house.

An array of demonic aura appeared on the floor inside the hall the moment the two divine beings stepped inside. It forced God and the seraph to reveal their true selves. Baltazar looked at Miza in horror. The array and the sudden change in atmosphere revealed that they were no longer in the second realm. They had entered Hell, the third realm.

Baltazar had a look of horror spread out on his face. Slowly, he looked at Dina who had sprung back after the array had activated. It held Baltazar and Miza in an iron grip making the two unable to move. 

Dina was frozen to the ground. She looked at the God and the angel for a long while. Unable to say anything. 

Meanwhile, piles of questions weighed down on God’s mind. Why was a human child living in Hell? No, why i Strezia’s child living in Hell? Does her aunt know? Is she a prisoner to an evil demon? Will demons gather now that two from the first realm had appeared?

Baltazar’s train of thought stopped abruptly. He was let down along with Miza and the two looked with surprise at Dina. Dina stood still. And then she lifted a finger to her lips. She then gestured to the two to follow her.

~

Dina poured three cups of tea with an apologetic look. The two heavenly beings were astounded. Dina had been adopted by two demons who now acted as her guardians. She was apparently also dating another demon and was quite happy with her life.

“And that’s really it.” She finished, “Look, I don’t want to hurt you and I’ll be more than willing to hear about my father. I’ve always wondered what happened.”

Miza had on a face of grave seriousness, “Miss Dina. Our presence here... It might cause some... people. To find rather... what do you say? Complicated. We don’t wish to engage in any hostility with your brothers.”

Dina smiled with relief, “That’s good to hear. I’ll make sure you’ll get out of here safely. But please, meanwhile. Make yourself comfortable.” Baltazar quickly took her up on her words an munched on a cookie he had been offered. Miza shot him a menacing look and Baltazar realized he probably took it a little too well. being in Hell and all.

He sighed and smiled. He’d better get on with it, “You see your father-“

“WHATSUP SLUTS! BIG BRO’S BAAAA.....aaaack.” A boisterous woman kicked open the door to the living room. Her voice was as dark as a man’s. She stopped immediately when she saw the angel and the other divine who sat with Dina.

Everybody turned to look at the newcomer.

Sweat began to form on the lady’s forehead and she cleared her throat, “Haha, welcome dearies.” she had completely changed her tone to a more fairer one. 

“Oh Dina, I didn’t know we would have guests. I would’ve dressed for the occasion.”

Dina abruptly stood up, “Ah! Sis! Eh, these two know about my dad!” The lady blinked, “Really?” Suddenly her demeanor changed and she slowly got over and sat beside Miza. “Well, if you have something to tell about Dina that I don’t know. Then I would like to hear as well. The names iklea.” She held up her hand for Baltazar to shake. 

“Hello there, the names Baltazar.” Miza quickly shot Baltazar another look. And he retracted his hand. While giving the sister an apologetic look. 

Wait. didn’t Dina only have brothers? Balthazar thought.

Iklea looked like she tried to hide her displeasure. Looking thoughtful she sat with crosses arms. “Well, anyways. Didn’t you want to talk about Dina’s dad?” She asked, quite annoyed.

Baltazar cleared his throat, “Yeah! uh, yeah. Sorry.” He then began to tell about Strezia.

“Your dad’s name was Strezia. She was one of the most creative seraphs in my court. Oh, I have a picture.” Baltazar procured a picture of a beautiful fair-skinned lady. Her body was totally covered in a white uniform, with dried paint on. Her hair was even longer than Dina’s and her eyes were piercing as if she was looking directly at the viewer. Her eyes were the same as Dina’s.

“Uhh. Mr, Baltazar?” Dina asked hesitantly. “Isn’t this a picture of a woman?”

Baltazar blinked, not once but twice before Miza shot him another glare. “Oh yeah, you father was actually a woman.”

Dina looked slightly surprised. She looked at Iklea then back at Baltazar. “My father? Was a woman? And an angel at that?” She was sounding rather sceptical. Balthazar didnt blame her. But the God did wonder. hadn’t she been living with demons!

Baltazar, “Well, its not hard to change gender when you’re an angel. Or a demon for that matter. And I know for a fact that Strezia loved to explore the nuances of existence.”

Iklea smiled and put an arm around Dina, “Reminds me of someone i know.” She winked. “Excluding the shapeshifting part.” The siblings grinned at each other. 

Miza looked at the picture and sighed, “Strezia was like an elder sister to all of us.”

Balthazar looked fondly at thepicture too, “When she told me she had fallen in love with a human woman I tried to warn her.”

Dina, “Warn her? About what?”

Baltazar looked down, “Humans don’t live forever... I was afraid she would get hurt and then... Look, Strezia wasn’t aware that your mother was pregnant. If she knew...” Baltazar could feel tears forming. He quickly wiped them away.

Dina’s face was frozen, “Mr, Baltazar? Sorry I’m asking but... my father, you address him in past tense could it be that...”

Dina didn’t say anymore. Baltazar lip quivered. He tried to pull himself together. Miza put a hand on Baltazar’s back. Dina took Iklea’s hand and Iklea squeezed it back.

~

Shadows swept the halls of the Fabricated Castle. The light from the mosaic windows danced around and found a silhouette which appeared at the end of the stairs leading to the main hall. 

Red eyes surveyed the foyer and the gaze went towards the living room. 

Hearing unfamiliar voices the silhouette took on a more human appearance with a nice blazer and matching pants.

He opened the door and first saw his sister Dina and then Ikle, “I’m back.” He said, then stopped in the doorway. When the guy opposite of Dina turned around something deep inside of Rosell sank.

Voices. Voices which had been hidden away since he met Dina returned. 

Kill. Kill. Revenge. Chance. Take it!

“Ross-!” Dina yelled and got up. Iklea, who really was Ikle, hurried to make  Dina stop before she finished the name. 

Rosell’s eyes were fixated on Baltazar. 

The God he had spent centuries getting to. He now sat in his living room. Free from his court’s protection.

He had never been this close. So close yet...

Balthazar, “Hello, you must be Dina’s brother. I’m Dina’s father’s Uh... acquaintance.” The God got up from his seat, turned to Rosell and smiled.

The dread dissipated.

Rosell, “Dina’s?”  

Rosell looked at Dina and Ikle who were about to burst.

He then took a looked at the seraph, who was also present in the room.

It seems like... there was some explaining to do.

Dina’s elder brother took off his coat. A small smile formed on rosell’s lips.

“Where are my manners. You can call me Ross.” 

“Ross” held out a hand for God to sake. Baltazar returned the smile and shook the other man’s hand, “I’m Baltazar.”

Ross, “I know.”

Baltazar felt dread roll down his body. 

Rosell, “You hurt me, my lord. I may be a common demon. as you might have guessed from the array at the entrance. Currently disguised as a human for Dina’s sake. But I know my way in this world. And the people one has to know about” He looked directly through Baltazar. 

“Surely, you must have been aware that this is Hell when you arrived, right.” 

Baltazar nodded. Unable to say much more. 

Ross let go of Baltazar’s hand, “Now, tell me. What have I been missing?”

~

Ross, “I see, that explains a lot.”

Dina, “It does?”

Ross, “It explains why you got the eyes of God.”

Baltazar almost spilled his tea, “She’s got my eyes???” This statement prompted a  facepalm from Miza.

Rosell shook his head, “Not yours per see. More like, what priestess in the old world prayed to be able to see through you. To see things that normal people wouldn’t.”

Miza took a sip from a teacup. “You mean she can see magic beings?”

Rosell scoffed, “No, not at all. She still believes my tail is some weird furry statement i have going. Dina turned to Ross, “Ross please!” She then turned to the divine pair and confirmed, “I’ve always been able to, since I was small.”

Miza sighed and tried not to show her disdain for the demon, “That must’ve been difficult. Your peers must have found you rather peculiar. We are terribly sorry we did not know of your existence earlier. We should’ve been able to help you.” SHe glanced at “Iklea” and “Ross”, “Much earlier.”

Ross glared at the seraph who gladly returned the gesture. It was so intense that Miza could only try to drink from an empty cup and act like she didn’t notice the cup was empty.

Dina, “Not at all! My childhood was... but then I met Ross and Iklea. Since then.. I’ve been rather content. I even decided when my business in the human world is finished. I’d actually like to stay permanently here with my boyfriend... if he still likes me in the future that is.”

Iklea broke into laughter, “HAH! He better. ‘Else I know of a few heartbreaking words to tell him.”

Nobody in the room liked the obvious wink Iklea sent towards the group.

“But back to my dad....” Dina tried.

Baltazar’s face dropped, “Yeah! Right!”

“As I said, Strezia fell in love with a woman named Marie Ravenwood. She stayed together with Marie for some human years until one day... She came home. Locked herself in her room and didn’t show her face for quite some time... Miza.” Balthazar gestured to the seraph, “Found out that ms. Ravenwood had cut ties to her. And then thirteen years ago... you mother. You probably know know what happened.”

Dina gulped and looked down. Ross sat beside her and watched her every move.

Dina’s mother had died giving birth to her. Her mother had cut all ties to her family because of improper conduct. She would rather give Dina up for adoption than let her parents know of her daughter’s existence. As Dina had been told by her aunt.

“I felt it when you mother died.” Balthazar continued when DIna confirmed she knew. 

“Her connection to Strezia made all of Strezia’s closest feel it too. I knew something would happen so I... I forced myself into Strezia’s room. But she was gone. A few days later. Strezia’s light disappeared from this existence...” Dina felt cold.

“Nobody knew what had happened to her as she had thrown away her halo.”

Dina sat frozen. Her shoulders trembled. Dina got up and went out the door. Ross got up too and followed after her. Balthazar could only stare as he was at a loss at what to do. It had been twentyfive years ago and he still remembered the day as if it was today it had happened.

Iklea sighed, “Don’t worry, she... just have to swallow it. They’ll be back. After she gets it out.”

Baltazar felt her pain. A girl who had never met her parents.. and for both of them to wind up dead. Truly sad. 

Baltazar closed his eyes. His empathy gave birth to an inkling of inspiration. He used it to see where the two had gone. ‘

A gentle hand calmly patted a young weeping maiden while rocking her back and forth. A good man consoling his little sister. Whispering reassuring words to her.

After a while Iklea went too and the three of them soon got back.

Baltazar got up from his seat, “I’m sorry that you and Strezia never got to meet. But I’m happy nonetheless to finally being able to meet you. I-“ “Wait a moment.” Ross said.

Baltazar stopped. 

Ross, “I think I know what happened to Strezia.” 

Miza got up instantly.

“You do??? What happened? What do you mean?”

Baltazar looked hopeful at Ross. However, Strezia’s soul had moved on. She wouldnt turn up alive, even if balthazar wanted it. Still, Baltazar wanted closure so he prompted Ross to tell what he knew.

“Some time back. An angel went on a rampage throughout some shopping districts in Hell’s capital. Many high demons came to stop her but her attacks were relentless. She didn’t even try to protect herself. Charging head on.”

They all listened attentively. Nobody were sitting anymore, holding their breaths.

Ross, “She stirred up such a huge incident that the Devil himself showed up.”

Baltazar felt stiffened. He always got trembling fits every time the Devil was mentioned. he tried to gulp down the unease.

“He tried to subdue her.” Ross continued. “But when he went for the killing strike she suddenly threw her sword and met the attack with open arms. He refused her the kill and stopped immediately. But, something in her eyes drove her to steal away his sword, Redwoo, and then she... ended it herself.”

The atmosphere which surrounded the room lay heavily on the people inside. 

Baltazar felt weak and wanted to scream and cry. He blamed himself. His inefficiency. He was supposed to be God but he couldn’t even help one who had been so close to him. 

The loss of Marie was so big that Strezia didn’t even want to be in a world where Marie wasn’t there. A tragedy befitting of such a beautiful love. If this had been a tragedy. 

Baltazar flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He lifted his head to see Dina with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for coming today.” Her voice was weak and trembling. She fought hard to keep the tears at bay. Baltazar only felt worse when he saw her. He then embraced the girl. And thanked her too. Holding back tears.

She never knew them. But she wished she had. Still, she couldn’t help but feel sad for two people who had loved each other and tried to protect each other. Angels’ life span far surpasses that of a human. With a baby on the way, Miza concluded it must’ve been because Marie wanted to spare Strezia the heartbreak of outliving her child and wife. Nobody knew for sure.

~

“Thanks for having us!” Baltazar beamed. He stood outside of Ross, Iklea and Dina’s house. Miza and him were preparing to go back.

“I’m so happy I came to meet you Dina! And your nice elder siblings of course. Even though I thought that you had two brother to start with... but well, it’s really been fun! Though, maybe a tad bit sad.” Iklea stood and supressed a laugh. Ross only elbowed her.

Baltazar clasped Dina’s hands, “I might be God and have business other places but I would really like it if we kept in contact with each other! You’re really bright and I’m sure Strezia would’ve been so proud of you. So I hope that I can come and visit again. You know, to tell you more and stuff!”

With a returned beaming smile Dina answered, “Yes of course! I really want to know more as well. And you’re really interesting my lord. Even Ross and Ikle- I mean Iklea liked you. And I’m sure they don’t mind.” Dina looked back at her siblings they both nodded in agreement.

“I’m just... I’m just sad that my dad didn’t know about me...” Baltazar patted Dina’s head, “Yeah, it could’ve been different.”

Dina shook her head, “It could’ve. However, I’m happy as is.” She then turned to look at her siblings. Baltazar was truly happy for her.

Miza and Baltazar then said goodbye and disappeared towards the first realm.

“I’m sorry Rosell.” Dina said sheepishly. “I didn’t realize he was God until later...”

“It’s ok. I’m glad you made him stay.”

“You... are?”

“Yeah.”

[amarabliss]

More Than A Pretty Face - 3 (Thorin Oakenshield/Reader)

IMAGINE MEETING WITH THORIN OAKENSHIELD BEFORE GANDALF AND SHARING A VISION WITH HIM OF WHAT COULD COME TO PASS…

Part One Part Two

Note! I think I got the links working correctly now!

Thorin stroked his beard staring up at the elven statue. It was elegant, but there was no strength behind it. Very elf like…

“I’m so sorry.” He turned seeing you approach a little red in the face, “There was an issue that needed attending and I am not usually in charge of things…I am sorry I am late. I hope you haven’t been here too long.”

“Not at all.” He instinctively began to reach for your face but quickly hid the movement by scratching his neck, “Is everything alright?”

You took a deep breath in smiling before letting it out the air out in almost a laugh, “I do not know how Lord Elrond deals with so much daily. I am used to being on my own and managing my own affairs, a cities worth is…well it’s terrifying. I’m sure you know the feeling.”

He fell in step with you as your walk began, “I do, and it can be intimidating, but it’s mostly rewarding.”

Your eyes were bright when you looked at him. He began to wonder if it was a racial trait since it was something he seemed to always notice when looking at you, “That is good to hear. I imagine if it wasn’t rewarding no one would want to rule. Which is why you’re here, is it not?”

He put his hands behind his back as he looked around, “You know why I am here.”

“I vaguely remember.” You turned onto a path that moved over the river, “You’re looking to get your home back, it’s a very noble cause.”

He paused making you stop to look at him, “You do not remember what you showed me?”

You sighed a little bringing your hand to your temple and began rubbing in a circular motion, “If I take time to focus I can find fragments, but it’s not how it works. I don’t remember everything.”

“How does it work?” Thorin watch you face fall a little at his request. He found it hard to look at you seeing a pain fall onto your features, but he needed answers, “I want to trust you…”

“Trust me?” Your eyes widened, “What have I done to make you mistrust me? We don’t even know one another.”

He stepped close to you looking into your eyes, “What haven’t you done? You give me a vision, you call it a gift. Hours later Gandalf the Grey in fact walks in with a map of my home. What you do is unusual and I only want to know if I can trust your information.”

You swallowed looking away from him, “I have no control over it…”

Thorin watched you turn walking off the bridge listening to you go on, “I know that what I see will happen, unless your told and you make a choice to change it. I’m sure you’ve encountered something that has happened that proves what you saw is real, yes?”

He nodded stepping down the bridge as you turned to him, “Yes…a few things, but somethings have changed. Like not meeting you on the road. We met here.”

“…you weren’t joking about me being with you, were you?” Your reaction was one he couldn’t read. Curious? Confused? Maybe even concerned?

“Yes, you were.” He stepped past you clearing his throat, “For some reason, you are the one thing I remember clearly.”

“Is that what frightens you?” You frowned seeing him tense up, “Master Oakenshield, I don’t know how to assure you that I mean you no ill-will. I know what I gave you will happen... I know you will lose…but I can’t see it anymore. I gave it to you and you will only have it for so long.”

“What do you mean?” He felt his heart quicken in his chest as he turned to face you.

“The vision will start to fade.” You looked down to your hands, “I must confess, I had hoped you would return to the Blue Mountains.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Thoughts began to race through his mind as panic began to fill him.

“When I had the initial vision, it was chance we were in the same town. I was on my way here. Instead of letting a wizard….” You looked up stopping when seeing his distress, “Master Oakenshield…I gave it to you so you could have a choice and you made one. I will answer any questions you may have-”

“Why me? Why did you have a vision of me? What made it happen?” He threw his arm out, “I am not special.”

When your face saddened it broke his heart, but your answer only seemed to irritate him, “Why does the wind blow north one day and west the other? There is no answer for you. If I’m supposed to see it I will…no matter the distance…Though objects seem to be the exception, but I doubt the dagger I was looking at had anything to do with you.”

“…I am a blacksmith from time to time…and I have been hired in Bree before…” He watched your eyes widen slightly at the revelation that this may be more than chance.

“Fate is a scary creature, untamed, and unmoving.” You began walking again hugging yourself. It was then he noticed how you winced and saw how red your cheeks still were. He had thought you were just winded from your duties, now he thought differently, “My answer to your questions remain the same.”

“You…are not well…” He spoke after a moment, slowly capturing your full attention.

Your stare penetrated his gaze before you put on a brave smile, “Ah…no…I have a small injury…it is not fully healed. I don’t rest well, but don’t worry about me. I will be fine, my lord.”

“I…do not wish to further injure you.” He stopped worry washing over his features. He would carry to a resting place if you’d let him, “Direct me to my quarters and go rest.”

“That isn’t necessary.” Your hands folded together in front of you as you took up a stubborn stance.

“I insist.” He stared you down half smirking when you final looked away with a sigh.

“Fine…thank you.” You turned around guiding him back to where they had met stopping in front of the statue, “I trust you can find your way back from here?”

“Ay, I can.” He stood in front of you just watching your features in the sunlight. It took his breath away.

“Lord Elrond should be returning soon…I am sure he will want to meet with you.” You brushed a loose hair from your face, “More than likely you’ll all be invited to dinner.”

“That’s…kind of him.” He swallowed down the compliment.

You noticed his hesitation and took a small step toward him defensively, “Lord Elrond is a good man. I would entrust anything to him.”

Your earnest gaze spoke to him as he nodded slowly watched you relax, “Your gift has given me much to think about…the lord of these lands is one of those thoughts.”

“That makes me glad.” You smiled stepping away, “Well…I suppose I will see you at dinner.”

“Y'amul.” He bowed again putting a hand to his chest.

“…” You smiled looked down to your hands a small blush coming to your cheeks, “Aha…yes, the truth comes out now. I do not actually know Khazdul…I just wanted to be impressive upon your arrival and looked up a greeting in one of Lord Elrond’s books.”

“Impressive? Why would you need to be impressive?” He tilted his head curiously finding a little enjoyment the way you began playing with a ring on your index finger.

“Well, who wouldn’t want to impress a handsome dwarven king.” You smirked a little before looking into his eyes becoming genuine, “I wanted to bring you a piece of home…since that is what you’re looking for.”

He stood there staring at you feeling a knot in his throat. It had been a very long time since someone had wanted to bring him comfort. He was beginning to like how this version of meeting of you was going. It was less abrasive and not having your bow in his face was nice, “Thank you, I won’t keep you any longer.”

As he turned to leave you, you spoke up quickly, “What does it mean?”

He turned back seeing you had stepped toward him again, “I’m sorry?”

You made a cringing face as you butchered the phrase, “Ya mual?”

He laughed a little giving you a soft smile as a he spoke slowly watching you repeat it under your breath, “Y’amul…it means close to what would come off as ‘with pleasure’.”

“Oh…wonderful.” You curtsied a little, “Thank you Master Oakenshield, I shall see you at dinner.”

“Indeed.” He watched as you walked off glancing back at him a giddy smile on your face before disappearing behind a turn. He shook his head shaking off the feelings that had seemed to overtaken him. He had much to do and he had no idea how long he had to do it.

He stepped into the room loudly gaining his companions attention. He took a deep breath looking at him, “I need paper. Now.”

You walked into the healing house slowly as one of the healers looked up at you immediately sighing and getting up. You stepped over toward a bed that had a divider from the rest of the room and began taking off you dress and underdress, “I know…”

“And yet you never listen.” The she-elf told you as you took a seat on the bed. Her hands began unraveling the bandage. The closer she got to the skin the blood she began to find. She sighed finally looking at the wound, “My lady you need to rest.”

“What I need is to be able to move.” You looked at her, “I won’t be here much longer, things are…changing.”

“…running off to more danger?” Her long eye brow shot up as she cleaned the stab wound getting winces from you.

You looked at her, “Spying for Lord Elrond?”

She glanced back up to you, “Fine keep your secrets…you’re healing nicely…but it would heal better if you would stay and rest.”

You kept your arms above your head as she began to wrap you up again. You stared out the window toward the afternoon sun as startling pair of blue eyes flashing into your mind, “Life very rarely gives us what we want…sometimes you have to follow it when it finds you.”

[fire-emblem-heroes-supports]

Gaius/Hinata C-S Support

Written by  drizzled-wind

C SUPPORT

Gaius: Aha! I knew they’d have one. All I had to do was a little digging.

[…]

Gaius: Easy as pie. I’m out of here.

Hinata: What’s that noise? Is someone in here? Hello?

Gaius: Ah, shoot.

Hinata: Gaius? Is that you? Why are you all tucked away in this dark corner?

Gaius: No reason. I was just leaving, actually. Is there a problem with that?

Hinata: Wait a second, why are you clutching that sack? You weren’t stealing from the prince and princess, were you?!

Gaius: Keep it down, Hotshot. I’m trying to make a getaway here.

Hinata: Oh, no, you’re not. I can’t let you steal from them in good conscience! Give it here!

Gaius: Hey, you’re gonna rip it! Look, I concede! Just take it.

Hinata: What the- Gaius, this bag is full of candy! You were just raiding their candy stash?

Gaius: We all have our thing, Hotshot. If you’re not gonna take ‘em, give me the goods.

Hinata: Couldn’t you just ask them if you could have some? Why are you stealing it?

Gaius: Old habits die hard, I guess. Can you keep it down? You’re attracting unwanted attention.

Hinata: I’m not gonna let you just get away with it! You’ll have to go ask if you want their candy.

Gaius: Slow down, there, Hotshot. Let’s not make a scene.

Hinata: Stop calling me that! My name is Hinata. Hi-na-ta. Got it?

Gaius: Loud and clear - and I’ll take that as my cue to leave. See ya.

[Gaius leaves.]

Hinata: What a weird guy. I’d better put this candy back. Who would sneak into a palace storeroom just to steal sweets, anyhow?

[Gaius and Hinata have reached support rank C.]

B SUPPORT

Gaius: I’ll have to be more careful stealing it this time. My personal stash is dangerously low. I haven’t had a proper dose of sugar in days…

Hinata: Hey, Gaius! I knew you’d be back!

Gaius: What the… Why are you standing guard in front of the candy?

Hinata: Because I knew you’d be back to steal it! And look, I was right!

Gaius: Look, just step aside and let me take it. That way no one gets hurt, see?

Hinata: You’re seriously going to fight me over some candy? Why do you even need it?

Gaius: Like I said, everyone has something. I need a better sugar intake if I’m going to be able to function on the battlefield, okay? Nothing worth fighting for otherwise. Move over, Hotshot.

Hinata: That’s dumb! Don’t you have any morals besides that?

Gaius: An old thief like me has no use for morals. Doesn’t come in handy in our profession. But listen, do you like confections? Like cakes and stuff?

Hinata: Sure, I guess. Why?

Gaius: I’ll make a deal with you. Let me take the candy, and I’ll pop over to the kitchen and whip you up a nice pie or something. I’ll even ask the prince if I can use the ingredients first.

Hinata: Hmm… Fine. I still don’t think you should be stealing this candy, though.

Gaius: Try not to think about it if it bothers you so much. Come to papa, my sweet candy… Mmmm… sugar…

Hinata: But how do I know that you won’t steal other things too, like money or jewels?

Gaius: I’m *chomp* not after that kind of stuff anymore. No use for it here, yeah? Mmm…

Hinata: Still, I think I should follow you around for a bit to make sure you’re not up to anything. If you’re as clean as you say, you won’t mind that, right?

Gaius: Ugh, if you have to. There’s nothing to be gained from following this old craven around, though. You’d be wasting your time, honestly.

Hinata: I’ll take my chances. Are you done stuffing your pockets yet?

Gaius: Yeah, yeah. We’ll head down to the kitchens in a sec. Let me just savour this delicious candy for a moment more…

[Gaius and Hinata have reached support rank B.]

A SUPPORT

Hinata: Gaaaaaaiiiiuuuuussssss!

Gaius: Geez, are you trying to wake up the whole castle? Quiet down, Hotshot.

Hinata: You left without me this morning! I had to make sure you weren’t up to no good.

Gaius: Oh, we’re still doing that? I know I’m unbelievably sexy, but I thought I convinced you to stop after the fifth or so pastry I baked for you.

Hinata: No way! But those pastries were the best thing I’ve ever eaten. You should bake for the whole army! Nothing would improve morale like that.

Gaius: I’m not really one to go around lifting people’s spirits. Nice to hear that you like ‘em, though.

Hinata: No, really! You could even start a shop!

Gaius: Take it easy, Hotshot. Don’t go around giving me ideas.

Hinata: Oh, fine, then. So where are we headed today, Gaius?

Gaius: Do you really still have to follow me around wherever I go? Doesn’t it get boring?

Hinata: Of course I do! But I don’t mind it. It gives me a chance to experience things from a different point of view.

Gaius: Glad to see you’re benefitting from it so much. But do you really still think I’m going to steal something? I told you, I’m not interested in that kind of thing anymore.

Hinata: Not really. By now, I just like going places with you!

Gaius: Lucky me. Fine then, how about we pop on over to the kitchen and do a little more baking? My sweet tooth is aching.

Hinata: Sounds good to me! By the way, Gaius, how come you quit being a thief?

Gaius: Talking about serious things now? Fine, I’ll bite. I got mixed up in one too many nefarious schemes for my liking. A real nice guy named Chrom recruited me into his army, and I decided to stay. Nothing else to it, Hotshot.

Hinata: Oh. That’s cool, I guess…

Gaius: Why the long face? What, were you expecting some thrilling tale filled with action, romance, and woe?

Hinata: … Kind of.

Gaius: As if your story is any more exciting. Or am I speaking to the grand hero of his realm?

Hinata: Not really. I’m a samurai in service to a lord in my world. Nothing else to it, even though I really do like working for him.

Gaius: Well, no one said you had to make something too big of yourself. I’m perfectly content to stay out of the history books, if you know what I mean.

Hinata: But don’t you ever wonder if the world will remember you when you’re gone?

Gaius: Not me. I’m not about that famous life. Hey, let’s cut the chatter and get to business. This tart’s not going to bake itself.

Hinata: Oh, okay!

[Gaius and Hinata have reached support rank A.]

S SUPPORT

Gaius: You know what, Hotshot? You were right. The others did really enjoy the cake I made.

Hinata: See? I knew sharing with the others was a good idea!

Gaius: (y/n) even asked me if s/he could have a third helping. I didn’t realise the stuff I made would be so popular.

Hinata: I can help you make more, and then we can give them out to the whole army! It’ll be great!

Gaius: I’m still not too keen on the idea.

Hinata: I asked Prince Alfonse, and suggested that he pay you in candy, since I know your stash is low again.

Gaius: Wait, really?! Now that’s a sweet deal I can’t refuse!

Hinata: Yeah! I knew you’d come through, Gaius.

Gaius: Ha. Does that mean you’re done following me around? There’s no reason to anymore.

Hinata: But…I like going places with you. I thought we made a good team.

Gaius: A good team, eh?

Hinata: Yeah, plus I… Wait, never mind. It’s dumb.

Gaius: Can’t be dumber than anything that comes out of my mouth. Spill.

Hinata: I wanted to tell you that… I wanted to spend more time with you because Isortofmaybelikeyoualot.

Gaius: I can’t understand you when you slur your words like that. Anyway, come on. It’s time to get baking.

Hinata: Wait, Gaius! I’m trying to say that I like you!

Gaius: I like you too, Hotshot. We’re friends now, aren’t we?

Hinata: No, I mean LIKE YOU like you.

Gaius: Eh? You’ve finally fallen victim to my charms and roguish good looks?

Hinata: Well, yeah. Kind of.

Gaius: Never thought I’d see the day someone confessed to me, of all people.

Hinata: Hey! I can’t help who I fall in love with, okay?

Gaius: Touché, Hinata, seeing as I can’t help but like you too. You’ve convinced me. But where will we go once we get hitched?

Hinata: Hey, you finally called me by my name! It doesn’t matter what we’ll do later. Let’s just enjoy what we have now!

Gaius: I still get to eat the candy though, right?

[Gaius and Hinata have reached support rank S.]

[wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey]

Thanks for the tag @themoonslayer!!

the last

drink: water with lemon in it

phone call: talking to my mom about how I didn’t want a second date with a guy

text message: “OMG that video is amazing!!!”

song you listened to: Not Gonna Die by Skillet

time you cried: tears threatened my eyes? reading a fic by @camsthisky.  I wept like a baby? watching Scarlet Heart Ryeo Episode 16 with my mom...you know, the episode where those two people die and that one guy has to kill the other guy...

dated someone twice: nope...three first dates and everytime I was like nah

kissed someone and regretted it: haha yeah no never been kissed 

been cheated on: can’t get cheated on if you never have someone to be cheated on by

lost someone special: yes

been depressed: yes

gotten drunk and thrown up: no thank heaven.  I’ve gotten tipsy a few times, and one time I was maybe slightly more?  it was at a wine tasting at a Ren Faire and it was outside and SUPER hot and I hadn’t eaten in a while and when I walked I felt REALLY weird like the world was not exactly stable and I ended up hanging on my bestie’s arm and giggling at everything she said

three favourite colours

purple

green

probably silver or black

in the last year have you

made new friends: yes :) 

fallen out of love: nah

laughed until you cried: maybe?  laughed myself silly oh yes  

found out someone was talking about you: found out a coworker was getting annoyed with me but the feeling was mutual so *shrugs*

met someone who changed you: Ahn Min Hyuk :D (hey, it doesn’t say fictional characters don’t count) this man is beautiful and sweet and handsome and sarcastic and precious and hilarious 

found out who your friends are: just rediscovered the fact that my friends are truly amazing 

kissed someone on your facebook list: Nope

general

how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life? All of them?

do you have any pets? My family has a black lab named Smokey (middle name O’Reilly, because we are half Irish and we give our dogs middle names, because when you are really mad at them you need to whip out their full names, and three names is better than two) we raised this dog from birth and he is my brother/son/sweetheart and I love him to death and he loves me and it is a beautiful relationship and we cuddle all the time

do you want to change your name? Absolutely not!  I love my first name because I was named after St. Monica who is awesome, and also I love having a name that is not as usual and doesn’t have twenty different spellings 

what did you do for your last birthday? My friend took me to see Doctor Strange!

what time did you wake up? 9:15 AM

what were you doing at midnight last night? doing my end of shift work at the restaurant I work at every Friday night

name something you can’t wait for: The Last Jedi I need it NOW and I need Ben Solo reconciling with his mom NOW and I need the evolution of Reylo NOW

when was the last time you saw your mum: last Sunday, when we watched Gilmore Girls together :)

what are you listening to right now? the wind blowing the leaves in the tree outside and the ticking of my ceiling fan

have you ever talked to a person named tom? my parents’ elderly neighbor

something that is getting on your nerves: when people say: Kylo Ren is abusive to Rey (newsflash: no, they are enemies, not lovers), when people ignore Tim Drake, when people hate Jason Todd, when people ship the Batbros together like holy heck going through AO3 and seeing all the Dick/Dami fics makes me want to vomit.  also please do NOT ship Bruce with his kids ugh

most visited website: “tumblr, unfortunately.” SAME.  also AO3

hair colour: dark brown with reddish tints

long or short hair: an inch or two below my shoulders.  It is nice for summer but I want it to grow back because I miss making my hair as elvish as possible

do you have a crush on someone? like 35 fictional guys...

what do you like about yourself? I love.  I love stories, I love characters who tear my heart out, I love nature and all the little beautiful things like leaves and stars and the smell of corn, I love people, I love my friends and family and would literally die for them

piercings: Five.  Two in each ear lobe and one up in the cartilege (is that the helix piercing I can’t recall).  I had my naval pierced twice but it migrated out each time :(

blood type: O (+?)

nickname: Gal, ninja, years ago some coworkers called me Moni, my nephews and niece called me Merica for a while after one of them couldn’t pronounce my name :D

relationship status: Single

zodiac: Scorpio

pronouns: She

favourite tv show(s): aha aha.  So many.  I just started Akayona right now and love it to death

tattoos: Not yet

right or left handed: Right

surgery: never thank heavens

sport: I did bowling in middle school and high school and did Kyokushin karate in college

vacation: favorite?  I used to go to Surfside Beach with my family, and on e time I went to DragonCon with my bestie.  good times

pair of trainers: huh?  like sneakers?  I have a pair of Nike and a pair of New Balance for working out or hiking.  otherwise I avoid em like the plague.  barefoot or flipflops is where it’s at

more general

eating: this is too vague!  um ice cream? spaghetti?

drinking: vanilla chai tea, apple cider, Mike’s Hard Lemonade?

i’m about to: go to the gym

waiting for: the Last Jedi. DC to put out their streaming service.  Young Justice season 3.  the casting of Nightwing, so that I know whether to keep being excited or to rage rage and punch a wall

want: patience and a little more concentration so I can finish my thesis

get married: perhaps some day.  Marriage is so beautiful and the idea of loving someone like that is something I would cherish, and I would love having kids, and I also think I want to adopt?  But I also want to let things happen according to God’s will and time.  If He doesn’t want me to marry it shall be well

career: trying to be a novelist here

which is better?

hugs or kisses: Hugs are the bomb, but kisses are good too

lips or eyes: Eyes

shorter or taller: I like being short but I like guys who are tall. height difference for the win

older or younger: Older or same age I guess

nice arms or nice stomach: ? idk.  I am maybe slightly superficial so both? :/ but yeah, hair is probably even more important

hookup or relationship: Relationship for sure

troublemaker or hesitant: is this about me or who I am attracted to?...I am confused

have you ever

kissed a stranger: Nah son

drank hard liquor: Yes, I prefer hard liquor over beer most days...when I even drink...which is like maybe once a month, and like one, maybe two drinks

lose glasses/contact lenses: I lose my glasses every day when I take them off and go shower and then I am running around my room like where the heck?!

turned someone down: Yeah...a couple guys have asked me out who I was just NOT interested in

sex on the first date:  No.  I think sex is a beautiful, special thing and I want to wait till I get married 

Originally posted by animatedtext

had your heart broken: ...yeah

been arrested: haha no.  and somehow I even got out of a ticket when I was going 20 over the speed limit in a residential area (i was cruising and not thinking and forgot the speed limit had recently changed)

cried when someone died: yes

fallen for a friend: oh yeah.  twice.  

do you believe in

yourself: Most days

miracles: absolutely

love at first sight: attraction at first sight, though I do think that some people have the gift of genuinely loving someone very quickly

santa claus: I did till I was like 7 or 8 and then my parents explained they left the gifts under the tree and that we had to keep the idea of Santa Claus in our hearts and that since I was in on the secret I had to be Santa Claus and a secret keeper for my little bros.  It was so fun and exciting and joyous

kiss on the first date: I studiously avoid getting kissed on the first date.  though it was maybe because I quickly decided I was not attracted to the guy

angels: yes.  I  believe in them with all my heart and am so grateful to God for them.  In particular I love my own guardian angel, who has comforted and encouraged me many times, and I swear is the only reason I have not crashed my car or been in a car crash several times over

other

eye colour: Hazel

favourite movie: Lord of the Rings (all of them), Star Wars (all of them), Harry Potter (all of them) and so many it is impossible to name them all.  one of my recent favorites was King Arthur The Legend of the Sword

Well this was really long so I won’t tag anybody but if you wanna fill this out please do so and tag me so I can see it!

[thedemonkingamaimon]

Breathing Difficulties - Ao No Exorcist fic

I said I’d write a fic featuring my OC, Ivy (doctor to the royal family of Gehenna) As always, comments/questions/reviews are welcome

Warnings/themes: Medical

Ivy sat down heavily on the sofa in his quarters, bringing a cup of tea to his lips. Finally, some peace and quiet. 

He was just about to pick up his book when there was a buzz as the little red call light above his desk lit up. His book promptly hit the opposite wall and he slammed his tea cup down on the side table. 

“I had literally just sat down!” he snapped, hauling himself up and slamming out of his quarters, through the multi-stay ward, and into the main medical room.

-

“This better be good, because I swear to great lord Satan, if it’s a splinter-” he stopped mid-sentence when he saw who had come to visit him. He stopped dead for a moment before grinning and throwing his arms around the young prince. “Amaimon, my dear boy! I wasn’t expecting to see you, not at all! How are you, my dear?” 

Amaimon wriggled free, not feeling like hugging at that moment. “Well, I’m here, so what does that tell you?” 

“Alright, alright, no need to be cheeky~” Ivy smiled, straightening his jacket and stepping back. “What brings you here on this fine day?” 

“Aniue sent me” Amaimon said, sitting down on the first bed when Ivy gestured for him to do so. “He said he’s concerned about my chest and breathing” 

“Really, how so?” he sighed when Amaimon shrugged. “Darling boy, how am I to help if you’re not willing to co-operate” 

Amaimon fumbled in his jacket pocket and produced a letter, which he handed to Ivy silently. 

-

The letter had been written by Mephisto, outlining his concerns about the Earth King - and signed with his true name (after all, Ivy wasn’t familiar with his many aliases). Ivy read through the letter carefully, taking a PRF form and clipboard out as he did so. 

“Hm, so, what’s your take on this?” Ivy asked, putting the letter down. “This has been an ongoing problem, yes? You should have come to me sooner” 

“Aniue put it down to anxiety for ages. Took me ages to get him to listen to the fact that anxiety isn’t triggered by stairs” 

“Right... Well, anyway, I need to hear it from you” he stood next to the bed, already starting on the PRF. “So, breathing trouble, eh?” 

Amaimon nodded. “Like... breathless, unable to catch my breath and stuff. And like, chest tightness...” he gestured, face red. “And like, bit of a cough, and wheezing, but only at night...”

“What are you blushing for? Surely you’re not embarrassed?”

“A little bit..” he admitted. 

“Really? Amaimon, remember that time you fell into a rose bush?” 

“You don’t need to bring that up” Amaimon snapped. 

“Whatever you say, little prince~. Now, any chest pain?”

He nodded. “Yeah, sometimes. Kinda comes with the tightness” 

“How long did it last the last time?” 

“I don’t know... five minutes?” 

Ivy set his clipboard down on the bed and started fumbling in his cupboard. Suddenly Amaimon wished he hadn’t bothered coming.

-

“Right, master, push that sleeve up for me” 

Amaimon did so, but he didn’t look too thrilled about it. He flinched a bit as Ivy grabbed his arm. 

“What are these bruises from? Have you been rough-housing again?” he raised an eyebrow and fastened the blood pressure cuff round his arm. “I need you to be quiet for a minute, alright dear?” 

Ivy stuck his stethoscope in his ears and got to work. After a while his mouth twisted in a question mark and he took the stethoscope off. 

“Amaimon, why are you so scared?” 

Amaimon glared at him. “Who said I was scared?” 

“Your heart rate did, that’s who” he said. “Please, try to relax. I need to get an accurate reading. He scribbled Amaimon’s blood pressure down on the PRF, mumbling jargon to himself. He sat on the bed beside Amaimon. “Ok darling, let’s give it another go, ok?” 

He got a better reading this time, but he still didn’t look too happy - and of course Amaimon picked up on it. “What?” 

“97. That’s still a bit fast, looking at your personal average” 

He stood up, putting the cuff away and bringing out a peak flow meter. “You’ve not used one of these before, have you?” 

He knelt on the bed behind Amaimon, showing him how to hold it and what to do. “Three times, ok?” 

Once he’d done, Ivy noted his result down. “Fuck” 

Amaimon elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re not being especially reassuring” 

Ivy merely hit him on the head with the clipboard and stood up again.

-

Ivy was uncharacteristically quiet for a while, looking through his notes and obs, occasionally glancing at his patient. Amaimon watched him. Suddenly, the doctors eyes widened and lit up. He threw his clipboard down and sped over to his cupboard of textbooks. 

“Oooh my! Ooh my, my my my..” he laughed, digging through his books. “Oh Amaimon my dearest little rascal, thank you! You’ve given me something much more interesting than gel pads and stitches, you little beauty. Aha!” 

Having found the book he was looking for, he frantically flipped through the pages till he found the right one. He shot over to Amaimon, sitting down heavily and pulling him close with an arm round his shoulders. 

“Look at this, my dear!” he said, thrusting the book in front of him. 

“Awight, let me see it then!” Amaimon snapped, grabbing the edge of the book to keep it still. He read only the title. “What the - asthma?” 

“YES!” Ivy sounded thrilled, excited, even. “Ok, I can’t confirm, I’m still going to do an ECG to rule out heart stuff, BUT AMAIMON this is a very real possibility!” 

Amaimon looked at the front cover. “This is a textbook on human conditions though” 

“I know, that’s what’s so exciting about it! Asthma is a common human resp condition. But it’s incredibly rare in demons - rare, but not unheard of! Oohh, I feel like I’ve been at the brandy! What a treat, a demon with asthma” 

Amaimon didn’t really understand his excitement. He was suddenly hit on the forehead with the book. 

“Your father is going to be furious! Ooh dearie me my dear, this really is an interesting one~” 

Amaimon looked at him with a level on confusion comparable to a child in their first maths lesson. “You’re absolutely off your rocker”

-

Ivy was quite excitedly flipping through a couple of other textbooks, comparing their text to Amaimon’s latest notes. Amaimon went up behind him, winding his arms about his neck and looking over his shoulder. 

“Why are you so excited?” 

“Well as I said, it’s incredibly rare to see in demons - I’ve certainly never come across it before! It’s an interesting one too. See here, in these books, it says even the humans haven’t got a definitive test for it - and their doctors see it daily!” he happily spent another thirty seconds page-flipping, before remembering his patient needed seeing to. “Right, let’s get your ECG done, master” 

-

Amaimon wasn’t too thrilled about the ECG. It wasn’t hugely warm in the medical wing, so being topless wasn’t ideal. And besides that, he had to have all those stickers put on him - and recently he’d had a bit of a problem about people having their hands near his stomach. 

“You’ve got a lot of bruising here. Has our Samael been hurting you again?” 

He chose not to reply. Ivy sighed. Just as he was untangling the electrode wires, the door opened, and none other than Lord Satan entered the room. 

“Ivy, about Lucifer’s elective-” he stopped as he noticed Amaimon. He ignored the stickers and ECG machine, instead focusing on the heavy bruising now visible on his upper-half. “Had another beating from your dear brother, have you?” 

“Not really any of your business, is it?” Amaimon grumbled, and received a clip round the ear for his insolent remark. 

Satan turned his attention back to Ivy, who had come round to the other side of the bed, closer to him. “I suppose I should ask” 

“Hm. Bit of an interesting one, this time” he handed him the clipboard with the PRF on. “Might be asthma” 

“What?” he sighed irritably. “I don’t have time for your jargon, Ivy dear” 

Ivy handed him the textbook with the best overview. It was read, and then promptly used to whack the doctor over the head with. 

“This is your fault” 

“How is it my fault?! I couldn’t do anything before now because he wasn’t symptomatic” 

“That’s not what I meant. You messed up on this one, Iverweller. What with this and his-” he glanced at his son and lowered his voice. “Defect” 

“Y’know, remarkably, I can actually hear you and am actually aware of my so-called defect” 

Satan glared at him. “Don’t you have some bruises to be counting or something?” 

Ivy rolled his eyes at Amaimon and turned back to the devil. “I didn’t cause the defect, and I didn’t cause this. Can’t change what happened in the womb, can’t change what develops. So don’t be talking bollocks” 

Satan grumbled. “Well you’ve done something wrong, whether during the missus maternal care or otherwise. None of the others are like this” 

Ivy marched over to his desk, opening the cupboard containing Lucifer’s many medical records. “Are you sure about that?”

Well, there was no way that one could be debated. “Point taken”

-

Satan approached Amaimon, grabbing him by the chin and looking him over. “So if it is what you think it is, what will you do?” 

Ivy appeared at the other side of the bed. “Well, I won’t know until he’s done a meds trial. And since none of the others are symptomatic, it’s not something I keep in my store. So I’ll need to contact my supplier before we can start that”

Satan nodded, starting to inspect the damage. Amaimon growled at him. 

“Stop pulling me about like that!” 

“Stop giving us stuff to look at then” Came the curt reply. “Look at the state of you. Foolish boy” 

“It’s nothing major” he growled, somehow managing to break free of his father’s grasp. 

Satan didn’t agree, but he turned his attention back to Ivy. “When are you free to discuss the elective?” 

Ivy looked up from connecting the electrodes to the machine. “As soon as I’ve finished with this one. If he behaves himself, it shouldn’t take long” 

“Good luck with that” he scoffed. 

“Oh fuck off, father” Amaimon grumbled. 

Satan raised a hand to him, but Ivy grabbed him by the wrist before the smack could be delivered. “Uh, I’m about the do an ECG here; I don’t need you scaring him and ruining the reading. Go and stand in the corner or something” 

-

Even with his father stood at a distance, Amaimon still couldn’t quite relax. Plus, he’d got the quivers while Ivy was clipping the electrodes to his stickers. 

“Right, relax, little prince. And shut up” he shot a glance over at Satan. “That goes for both of you. Don’t go ruining my readings”

Amaimon had always found Ivy’s power over Satan amusing, and it certainly aided in calming him this time. 

Ivy was happy with the quality of the ECG result, and what it showed. 

“Well, we can rule out any heart problems, sweetheart” he said, looking it over steadily. “Ooh my, looks like I get to make a trip to my supplier!” 

“Don’t sound so pleased about it” Amaimon grumbled, starting to peel his stickers off. 

“Well, how can I help it?” he was humming happily as he put the ECG machine away. “I love having something a bit interesting to do. A demon prince with a healing defect and asthma, what an interesting yet formidable specimen you are~”

Amaimon flinched as his father suddenly appeared beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve always been an odd one, Amaimon” 

“Says the bloke who spawned Beelzebub” 

Satan merely laughed and ruffled his hair roughly. “I’ll be back in 90 minutes, Ivy. That should give you ample time to sort this one and visit your supplier”

-

Seeing his father hadn’t exactly put him in a good mood. He was glad to be fully dressed again with a blanket round him. Ivy was sat at his desk, busy form-filling. He could read Amaimon’s mood easily. 

“He’s still proud of you, you know” he said, not looking up. “You’re still a great force and son, even if you’re not great at breathing right now” 

“You know what I said earlier about not sounding reassuring?” 

“What? You know he loves you lot, even if he doesn’t tend to show it. You should’ve learnt not to let him get to you by now” he frowned at his paperwork. “He’s a challenging parent, isn’t he? You lot are lucky you’ve got me” 

He agreed. “Half of us say you’ve always been a better father to us than he has” 

“True, but he’s a good father in many ways. He’s just a fool sometimes. He’s never very helpful when you lot get up to completely bizarre shenanigans and end up filling out my medical wing. He just laughs. No wonder I spend most of my time wanting to bang my head against a brick wall” 

Amaimon stood up, wriggling under his arm. 

“Uh, I’m busy PRFing, titch. Give me back the use of my arm” 

“So what happens now?”

“Well, you stay here until I’ve been to my supplier” he pulled Amaimon onto his lap properly, adjusting so he could continue with his forms. “And then I’ll teach you how to take you medication, and then you’ll go back to Assiah, if you fancy, and then I’ll see you in three weeks to review you” 

“Right, so when can you make a diagnosis?”

“Potentially in three weeks time, if the results are conclusive. We’ll see”

-

Once Ivy had finished the paperwork, he had to leave to see his supplier, and so Amaimon was left alone. It was unnervingly quiet in the medical wing now, and he didn’t really know what to do with himself. He chose the obvious option, lying down on the bed and pulling the covers over himself. He wasn’t feeling tired enough to sleep though, and he was right next to the door in this bed. He hoped no one would come in. He hadn’t planned on seeing any of his brothers while he was here, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

-

Luckily, when the door did open, it was just Ivy returning from his supplier. 

“You’re back sooner than I expected” Amaimon said, voice muffled. 

“I queue jumped. He owed me a favour anyway” Ivy said. “Are you pretending to be a rabbit in a burrow, by any chance?” 

Ivy took his bag of medication over to the cupboard, putting most of it away, but keeping a salbutamol inhaler out. He returned back to Amaimon, climbing into the bed with him. Amaimon turned onto his back, looking at the little box in Ivy’s hand. 

“This is your medication now. You’ve probably seen one before, considering how much time you’ve spent in Assiah. It’s an inhaler” he took it out of the box, turning it over in his hand. “It should help relieve your breathlessness and chest tightness. You said your symptoms are worse at night, right? So even if you don’t need it during the day, take it before bed anyway. I hope this works for you” 

“I trust your judgement” Amaimon took the inhaler from him, looking at it from all angles. “I’ve seen them before, but I can’t say I really knew what they were for or anything” 

“You have to sit up or stand when you take it. Here, sit up; I’ll teach you how to do it” he still felt rather excited about the whole situation. 

Amaimon did as he was told. 

“You have to shake it first, see? For about five seconds. And then you hold it like this” he demonstrated. “When you take it, breath out as much as is comfortable before putting it in your mouth, and breath in as you press it. Then hold your breath a moment before exhaling. Two doses as needed, right? Wanna give it a go? You’ll have to prime it first to get it working” 

Amaimon took the lid off the inhaler and pressed it a couple of times until a dose of medicine was fired into the air. He didn’t know what he expected, but that fine mist certainly wasn’t it. 

“There, just take a couple of doses to get used to it. Take a little break between the first and second” 

Amaimon did as he was told. It felt weird, and tasted like the smell of Ivy’s operating theatre. 

“That was weird” 

Ivy laughed. “Maybe so, but with any luck, it’ll help!”

-

Amaimon waited while Ivy filled out a prescription and wrote a feedback letter for Samael. 

“Stay on your brothers good side when you’re back in Assiah, ok? This could still potentially be severe anxiety. I hope not, cos asthma is easier to manage, but it’s still on the board. Besides, I don’t like seeing those angry finger marks on you”

“I’ll be fine. I am fine. Mostly. Aside from the obvious”

“Mm...” Ivy stood up, handing the envelope to Amaimon. “Make sure you give this to him. It’s for your benefit” He went over to one of his cupboards, grabbing a blank book. “Here” 

“What’s this?” 

“A loaf of bread, what do you think?” Ivy ruffled his hair fondly. “It’s a symptom diary. I need you to write in it until you see me again. It’ll help with my diagnosis” 

Amaimon nodded, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t remember to write in it all the time. His thought was interrupted as Ivy pulled him close. 

“My darling boy, whom I love like a son, please stop getting yourself in predicaments. Take care of yourself for once. You’re so bad for my blood pressure” he held him at arms length, looking him over for a moment. “Well then my dear little Earth King, back to Samael with you”

*

[adroppedseed-blog]

QZGS Chapter 353: Desiring Death, Yet Unable to Die

The double agents on both sides stood and watched in silence. They would have loved for one stomp to take out both Lord Grim and Cleansing Mist. But Lord Grim hadn't made his name on the tenth server by accident; if it were that easy to kill him, that would have meant even greater embarrassment for the guilds he'd crushed under his heel.

Furthermore, those like Blue River who already knew Lord Grim's identity had also pretty much guessed that this launcher named Cleansing Mist was Su Mucheng. If the pro Glory Alliance stood at the peak of Glory, their partnership stood at the peak of the Alliance. So while many of the others were still puzzling over their approach, Blue River only felt sorrow. They were just too strong. That was why they could pull off a routine that ordinary players couldn’t even understand, much less carry out.

Sure enough, concern, anticipation, doubt—all were unnecessary.

Amid the wave of dust kicked up by the guardian demon's stomp, the two characters leaped high into the air and fired toward the ground, their guns spitting out tongues of flame as they used a rocket technique to avoid both the guardian demon’s stomp and the shock wave it caused with marvelous precision.

By the time they landed, they were already behind the guardian demon.

Though the guardian demon wasn't slow, it still needed a moment to turn its enormous body. The volume of Lord Grim and Cleansing Mist’s attacks in that moment was enough to amaze all the double agents.

Though not up to a professional standard, at the very least they were all skilled and experienced players with a certain amount of insight. Just from their DPS, they could tell that these two had a grasp of their classes and a control of their skills that far surpassed those of any ordinary player. The watchers finally broke their silence, some of them letting out subconscious gasps of surprise, though Blue River and the others in the know did a better job of maintaining their composure.

Amid the assault, the guardian demon had finally finished turning. This time, instead of raising its foot for a stomp, it waved a hand and sent a gust of wind slashing out. But Ye Xiu and Su Mucheng, prepared as always, easily avoided it and dodged directly behind the guardian demon's back to continue their attack.

By the time they’d seen several rounds of this, everyone had been stunned speechless. The guardian demon was slow to turn, but that was only in relative terms; in truth it was really quite agile. But in the face of these two people's superlative control, what could not originally have been called a weak point had become one, the target of continuous attack. As for the two characters, they never erred at all.

There was again a minor disturbance in the crowd of double agents. Though they didn't all know who was from which guild, they knew who was from their own guild. At this point they were starting to talk again.

"Fuck! Lord Grim is even better than I thought!"

"Who the hell is this launcher? She might be even better than Lord Grim!"

"Are these two human? Are they from this world?” Though some of the comments were becoming somewhat hyperbolic, they were starting to approach the truth.

For an instant, all of them forgot why they'd gone undercover in the first place to marvel over the skill being displayed before them. Only a moment later did they recover themselves, but they were still helpless; there was no possibility of the guardian demon hitting them where they stood right now. They couldn’t die if they wanted to.

Not long after, they had another realization: however astoundingly well Lord Grim and this Cleansing Mist fought, it was impossible for the two of them alone to bring down the guardian demon. Even if they never made a single mistake, in the end they'd run out of mana. At that point, characters who couldn't use skills would be unable to continue their back-and-forth.

This guardian demon was designed for twenty players to kill together, so of course it had to be far stronger than a hidden boss in a five-person dungeon. No matter how good their endurance, two people couldn't hold out through the entire battle. And furthermore, with the pace of their attack, they were using up mana even faster than most players, making it even harder for them to last. In the end, this battle would require everyone's contribution.

After coming to this conclusion, all the double agents felt a little calmer. These two were indeed very impressive, but they would still be able to accomplish their mission here. No matter what, as long as they could enter the fight, how could they not be able to find a chance to die?

Everyone, having made more or less the same calculation, was chatting with the others from their own guild. But now Lord Grim and Cleansing Mist finally did something different—both of them suddenly executed a rocket skill and flew back toward the left row of double agents.

The guardian demon came hard on their heels. Rather than feeling panic, the double agents were full of anticipation—a rare experience in a gaming, for death to bring such pleasure.

Their characters were all quivering, ready to move. As long as the guardian demon made an attack, even if they couldn't throw themselves directly into it, they could at least pretend they'd reacted half a beat too slow!

Closer...closer...

A few more steps brought the guardian demon to the left row. And then, just when it seemed he was about to swing at them, he suddenly did an about-face.

"Attack!" Lord Grim yelled.

They were briefly stupefied.

The guardian demon had turned his back to them, exposing an enormous opening. One after another, they attacked almost involuntarily. And yet the guardian demon ignored them to rush forward instead. All the double agents followed after him, attacking, hoping for him to turn around and make a counterattack.

But they knew it wasn’t going to happen.

By now they had realized that at some point Lord Grim and Cleansing Mist had split up to operate separately. Now Lord Grim was positioned with them on the left side, while Cleansing Mist was standing with the other row on the right. At the moment, the target the guardian demon was charging at was Cleansing Mist.

Only now did they realize that this whole time they'd never quite determined which of them had drawn the guardian demon's aggro. At the beginning Cleansing Mist had provoked it, and then Lord Grim had taken the lead; after that the two of them had stayed together, going back and forth with the guardian demon. The double agents had only the impression of it chasing the two of them; as to exactly which one? Unclear! They hadn't been able to tell.

But now that the two of them had separated, it was crystal clear: at this point in time, the guardian demon's aggro was absolutely directed at Cleansing Mist.

But what about before?

Before, they’d drawn the guardian demon to charge toward the left; at that point they'd still been together. After that, the double agents on this side hadn't noticed when Cleansing Mist had extricated herself and gone to the other side. The guardian demon just took up too much space and attention, and they’d been too eager for it to kill them.

Now the aggro wasn't pointed in their direction. They followed behind the guardian demon, attacking furiously, but they were completely unable to make it turn around. Collectively, they’d turned into pure DPS. All at once, screen after screen reflected dejected expressions.

Someone suddenly got the bright idea to advance a little further ahead in hope of finding a better opportunity. But to their surprise, they’d only gone half a position forward before Lord Grim appeared in his path and delivered an order: "Don't go past where I am."

A very simple order indeed. Being a newbie wouldn't be enough to explain away being unable to follow it. That would being an idiot; more likely he'd simply realize it was deliberate sabotage.

So there was nothing they could do. They all obediently stayed behind Lord Grim and meekly continued their attack and pursuit.

“Stop!” Until Lord Grim suddenly gave another shout. Everyone paused.

Another order so simple it couldn't be disobeyed. Though there were a few who pretended they hadn't heard and continued to attack, after Lord Grim repeated his order twice more with individual names attached, and went so far as to send messages, it was impossible to pretend any longer. Nor had the few who had tried succeeded in creating any real issues.

"Go back to where you were before," said Lord Grim.

So they could only retreat. Some of them tried to pretend that they didn't remember where they'd been and stand in the wrong place, but they soon found they couldn't get away with it.

Because their ranks weren't entirely pure. On the left side they had Soft Mist, Lord Grim’s own battle mage, who’d gone back to precisely her original position. Those who took the wrong place were immediately instructed by Lord Grim to take their places relative to her.

Oh, their reluctance! Not long after their retreat, the guardian demon executed an earthshaking strike, an area damage move that could have hit the players chasing behind it. But now, regrettably, they’d missed it.

The left row, having fallen back, stared pitifully across. What they saw was the demon starting a ferocious charge toward them while the right row quivered with anticipation, just as they had before. Suddenly someone's heart gave a thump, as if dimly they'd realized something.

Boom!

Just as they were considering their sudden revelation, cannon fire exploded over the guardian demon. Lord Grim hadn't retreated with the left row; after several more attacks, ending with that burst of cannon fire, the guardian demon suddenly turned.

Aha!

Countless people cried out silently.

In the moments that followed, the right row of double agents went through the same experience as the left row. They chased behind the guardian demon, frantically attacking, with Cleansing Mist to mark the line they couldn't cross. Just that simple. Having made it to level 30, as long as they were human, there was no way even a player totally new to Glory could fail to do it.

The double agents all felt a moment of terror. They'd realized that they'd somehow become nothing more than free labor in this battle. Under the current circumstances, it was impossible for them to die unless Lord Grim or Cleansing Mist made a mistake.

But those two had begun by displaying their skill for all to see, and now they were demonstrating flawless aggro control as they took turns. Unbelievably, they were forcing the guardian demon to run back and forth between the two rows without the slightest misstep. If the battle continued like this, they might not even need a cleric's healing...

Shock and awe!

It was only now that everyone truly felt shock and awe.

On the surface everything was still the same, but in private chat they'd already lost their minds.

They couldn't die if they tried. Who in the world were these two, to be able to control the situation to such an incredible degree? At long last, the suspicions of those who didn't know the truth forcibly leveled up.

[preachbvne]

(Prophetic Word)Those Who Tare You & Have Ceased Not.TIMES UP! Behold, I...

(Prophetic Word)Those Who Tare You & Have Ceased Not.TIMES UP! Behold, I Have ENACTED!(Psalms 35) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Elxoe4qFdSY

Jeremiah 1:12  (KJV) 12 Then said the Lord unto me, Thou hast well seen: for I will hasten my word to PERFORM IT. Ezekiel 12:25 (KJV) 25 For I am the Lord: I will speak, and the word that I shall speak shall come to pass; it shall be no more prolonged: for in your days, O rebellious house, will I say the word, And Will Perform It, saith the Lord God.

Glory Nugget: As I Pondered Why He gave me the Word ENACT..

Definitions of enact: • act out; represent or PERFORM • order by virtue of superior authority; decree • Many think of Passing a Bill, But enact also means to perform, like in a play

Definitions of perform: • perform a function • carry out or perform an action give a performance (of something) • get (something) done carry out; do, execute, discharge • bring about; bring off, accomplish, achieve • fulfill, complete, conduct • effect, dispatch, work, implement(Facilitate) • pull off,  stage; put on; present; mount; enact • act, represent, do, produce

Psalm 35:15 (KJV 15 But in mine adversity they rejoiced, and gathered themselves together: yea, the abjects gathered themselves together against me, and I knew it not; they did tear me, and ceased not:

Psalm 35 (KJV) 35 Plead my cause, O Lord, with them that strive with me: fight against them that fight against me. 2 Take hold of shield and buckler, and stand up for mine help. 3 Draw out also the spear, and stop the way against them that persecute me: say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. 4 Let them be confounded and put to shame that seek after my soul: let them be turned back and brought to confusion that devise my hurt.  5 Let them be as chaff before the wind: and let the angel of the Lord chase them.  6 Let their way be dark and slippery: and let the angel of the Lord persecute them.  7 For without cause have they hid for me their net in a pit, which without cause they have digged for my soul.  8 Let destruction come upon him at unawares; and let his net that he hath hid catch himself: into that very destruction let him fall.  9 And my soul shall be joyful in the Lord: it shall rejoice in his salvation.  10 All my bones shall say, Lord, who is like unto thee, which deliverest the poor from him that is too strong for him, yea, the poor and the needy from him that spoileth him?  11 False witnesses did rise up; they laid to my charge things that I knew not.  12 They rewarded me evil for good to the spoiling of my soul.  13 But as for me, when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth: I humbled my soul with fasting; and my prayer returned into mine own bosom. 14 I behaved myself as though he had been my friend or brother: I bowed down heavily, as one that mourneth for his mother. ======== 16 With hypocritical mockers in feasts, they gnashed upon me with their teeth. 17 Lord, how long wilt thou look on? rescue my soul from their destructions, my darling from the lions.  18 I will give thee thanks in the great congregation: I will praise thee among much people. 19 Let not them that are mine enemies wrongfully rejoice over me: neither let them wink with the eye that hate me without a cause.  20 For they speak not peace: but they devise deceitful matters against them that are quiet in the land.  21 Yea, they opened their mouth wide against me, and said, Aha, aha, our eye hath seen it.  22 This thou hast seen, O Lord: keep not silence: O Lord, be not far from me. 23 Stir up thyself, and awake to my judgment, even unto my cause, my God and my Lord.  24 Judge me, O Lord my God, according to thy righteousness; and let them not rejoice over me. 25 Let them not say in their hearts, Ah, so would we have it: let them not say, We have swallowed him up.  26 Let them be ashamed and brought to confusion together that rejoice at mine hurt: let them be clothed with shame and dishonour that magnify themselves against me.  27 Let them shout for joy, and be glad, that favour my righteous cause: yea, let them say continually, Let the Lord be magnified, which hath pleasure in the prosperity of his servant. 28 And my tongue shall speak of thy righteousness and of thy praise all the day long.

Psalm 35 (MSG) A David Psalm 35 1-3 Harass these hecklers, God,  punch these bullies in the nose. Grab a weapon, anything at hand;   stand up for me! Get ready to throw the spear, aim the javelin,   at the people who are out to get me.  Reassure me; let me hear you say,     “I’ll save you.”

4-8 When those thugs try to knife me in the back, make them look foolish.   Frustrate all those    who are plotting my downfall.  Make them like cinders in a high wind,  with God’s angel working the bellows. Make their road lightless and mud-slick,    with God’s angel on their tails.  Out of sheer cussedness they set a trap to catch me;    for no good reason they dug a ditch to stop me. Surprise them with your ambush— catch them in the very trap they set, the disaster they planned for me. 9-10 But let me run loose and free,  celebrating God’s great work, Every bone in my body laughing, singing, “God, there’s no one like you. You put the down-and-out on their feet   and protect the unprotected from bullies!”

11-12 Hostile accusers appear out of nowhere, they stand up and badger me. They pay me back misery for mercy,  leaving my soul empty.

13-14 When they were sick, I dressed in black;  instead of eating, I prayed. My prayers were like lead in my gut,  like I’d lost my best friend, my brother. I paced, distraught as a motherless child, hunched and heavyhearted. 15-16 But when I was down they threw a party! All the nameless riffraff of the town came chanting insults about me.  Like barbarians desecrating a shrine,  they destroyed my reputation.

17-18 God, how long are you going  to stand there doing nothing? Save me from their brutalities;  everything I’ve got is being thrown to the lions. I will give you full credit   when everyone gathers for worship; When the people turn out in force  I will say my Hallelujahs.

19-21 Don’t let these liars, my enemies,  have a party at my expense, Those who hate me for no reason,  winking and rolling their eyes. No good is going to come  from that crowd;  They spend all their time cooking up gossip  against those who mind their own business. They open their mouths  in ugly grins, Mocking, “Ha-ha, ha-ha, thought you’d get away with it? We’ve caught you hands down!” 22 Don’t you see what they’re doing, God? You’re not going to let them Get by with it, are you? Not going to walk off   without doing something, are you?

23-26 Please get up—wake up! Tend to my case. My God, my Lord—my life is on the line. Do what you think is right, God, my God, but don’t make me pay for their good time.  Don’t let them say to themselves, “Ha-ha, we got what we wanted.”  Don’t let them say,  “We’ve chewed him up and spit him out.” Let those who are being hilarious   at my expense  Be made to look ridiculous.  Make them wear donkey’s ears;  Pin them with the donkey’s tail, who made themselves so high and mighty!

27-28 But those who want the best for me, Let them have the last word—a glad shout!—    and say, over and over and over, “God is great—everything works together for good for his servant.” I’ll tell the world how great and good you are,  I’ll shout Hallelujah all day, every day.

Grace Nuggets • There is a Trade - There is a Cost • There is Word and there is Light • Light Illuminates a Choice - Many will choose Darkness • Light Exposes the Darkness. • Many Love you for Your Darkness- Not Your Light as it Exposes Them

Grace Nuggets • The World was Formed(Out of Alignment) VOID(Chaos) • God Goes from Dark to Light(The Evening and the Morning)

Three Terms for Sin Used in the Bible 1) Het- "Straying away from the Path" (Found 459 times Forgetfulness, neglecting the Truth,) 2) Avon - "Crookedness in Your Conduct" (Iniquity- Twisted- Deliberate but weakness) 3) Pesha - "A Rebellious Transgression"  (Willing rebellion 136 times in the Bible)

He Directs Your Paths Proverbs 3:6 (KJV) 6 In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

When The Lord Comes Will He Find Faith Luke 18:8(KJV) 8 I tell you that he will avenge them speedily. Nevertheless when the Son of man cometh, shall he find faith on the earth

"I Prophesy to the Perplexities and Give The Practicalities!"

The "GOD-With" Ministry

Not Inspirational Speaking, But Word-Based Preaching!"

TRUTHALITY! Facts are Temporal Truth is Eternal! What is real? The TRUTH that, Nothing is too hard for God!

Preach Be a Voice Not an Echo www.preachbvne.webs.com www.preachbvne.blogspot.com Twitter@Preach_BA_Voice Facebook: www.facebook.com/PREACHbeaVoicenotanEcho Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/PreachBVNE/ Youtube Channel:www.youtube.com/c/PREACHbeaVoicenotanEchoMinistry

To Sow into this Ministry Mail to: Shawntrell or Thomas Davis               P.O. BOX 606               Goodlettsville, TN 37070 CashApp: $KingdomStewardDavis PayPal:  www.paypal.me/SHAWNTRELLDAVIS or Email:PreachBVNE@yahoo.com

Ambassadors of the Word of Reconciliation Followers of "The Way"

Distributors of the Revelation! Distributors of the Truth! Distributors of the Release!

S.H.I.F.T Suddenly Heaven Invades Forcing Transformation!!

#YesLordIWill #CryLoudAndSpareNot #TheLordMyGodIsWithMe #PartakersofHisGlory #FortifiedBrazenWall #Repent #TheKingdomOfGodIsAtHand

Let the Lord be Magnified! Announcing the Coming of the Glorious Kingdom of God!

2 Corinthians 5:20(KJV) 20 Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God. Matthew 24:14 (KJV) 14 And this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world for a witness unto all nations; and then shall the end com

[johnchiarello]

CRISIS CORPUS CHRISTI POLICE

ONGOING CRISIS IN CORPUS CHRISTI POLICE DEPARTMENT- CHIEF MIKE MARKLE

 Psalm 35:5

Let them be as chaff before the wind: and let the angel of the Lord chase them.

6 If fire break out, and catch in thorns, so that the stacks of corn, or the standing corn, or the field, be consumed therewith; he that kindled the fire shall surely make restitution. Ex. 22:16

 CCPD- https://youtu.be/qKI-Ndct38w

http://ccoutreach87.com/10-9-17-ccpd/

.More of the same

.But I had to finally give the details-

.Once the cop realized I was talking about it- he might have targeted my family [this has happened before- I documented cops illegally entering my daughters residence when she was in Mexico- I spoke to his senior officer at the time- he believed me- my daughter was the one who reported it to me- IT HAPPENED!]

.Yes- just so the public realizes what we are dealing with here- and they already are way overpaid anyway- lets at least try and get them to not commit real crimes

.Arson is a crime- which can cause death

Here’s the pig- http://kxan.com/2017/02/09/sunburned-pig-found-in-corpus-christi-parking-lot-on-the-mend/

New Living Translation The godly care for their animals, but the wicked are always cruel. Proverbs 12:10

 Cops question me on video- https://youtu.be/9bUZo8OQRis

http://ccoutreach87.com/10-9-17-cops-question-me-on-video/

.Car fire

.King Ranch

.Fire Dept. Days

.The Truck had a propane tank

.Yes- it blew

.Roger’s crime?

.He made a verbal threat to a CCPD cop

.They charged him with a terroristic threat- he did 4 years in prison

.Yet cop made threat to kill Black man- on video

.He then killed the Black man

.Planted a gun in the car

.And walks

.Something is wrong with this picture

Arson- https://www.nolo.com/legal-encyclopedia/arson-charges-penalties.html

John 4:35

Say not ye, There are yet four months, and then cometh harvest? behold, I say unto you, Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest.

 This will be the day that I die-

https://youtu.be/Pl_p-b2yMMQ

http://ccoutreach87.com/10-9-17-this-will-be-the-day-that-i-die/

.I just got a text- Roger- who I spoke about today- is dead

.Don Mclean

.Lennon

.Titles for this post?

A- Arson n lace?

B- Pigs in a blanket?

C- 2 Pope’s?

.They see it as their toy

.North Bergen

.Organized crime?

.Snow?

 Ongoing crisis in the Corpus Christi Police Department-

https://youtu.be/nQfw_vqAIQk

http://ccoutreach87.com/10-9-17-ccpd-crisis/

 .No justice for the pig [the actual hog- get it?]

.Pops

.Toomey case- still unanswered questions

.Crisis with response to 911 calls

.Brief history of the CCPD

.Chief Simpson

.Chief Markle

.Systemic problem

.Car vandalized

.Dan Mcqueen even blurted it out

.Where’s the poll chief?

.What about the Fuqua murder case?

.History of police beatings of my homeless friends

.Kirk Stowers

http://corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com/2017/10/ccpd.html

 VERSES-

Psalm 35

King James Version (KJV)

35 Plead my cause, O Lord, with them that strive with me: fight against them that fight against me.

2 Take hold of shield and buckler, and stand up for mine help.

3 Draw out also the spear, and stop the way against them that persecute me: say unto my soul, I am thy salvation.

4 Let them be confounded and put to shame that seek after my soul: let them be turned back and brought to confusion that devise my hurt.

5 Let them be as chaff before the wind: and let the angel of the Lordchase them.

6 Let their way be dark and slippery: and let the angel of the Lordpersecute them.

7 For without cause have they hid for me their net in a pit, which without cause they have digged for my soul.

8 Let destruction come upon him at unawares; and let his net that he hath hid catch himself: into that very destruction let him fall.

9 And my soul shall be joyful in the Lord: it shall rejoice in his salvation.

10 All my bones shall say, Lord, who is like unto thee, which deliverest the poor from him that is too strong for him, yea, the poor and the needy from him that spoileth him?

11 False witnesses did rise up; they laid to my charge things that I knew not.

12 They rewarded me evil for good to the spoiling of my soul.

13 But as for me, when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth: I humbled my soul with fasting; and my prayer returned into mine own bosom.

14 I behaved myself as though he had been my friend or brother: I bowed down heavily, as one that mourneth for his mother.

15 But in mine adversity they rejoiced, and gathered themselves together: yea, the abjects gathered themselves together against me, and I knew it not; they did tear me, and ceased not:

16 With hypocritical mockers in feasts, they gnashed upon me with their teeth.

17 Lord, how long wilt thou look on? rescue my soul from their destructions, my darling from the lions.

18 I will give thee thanks in the great congregation: I will praise thee among much people.

19 Let not them that are mine enemies wrongfully rejoice over me: neither let them wink with the eye that hate me without a cause.

20 For they speak not peace: but they devise deceitful matters against them that are quiet in the land.

21 Yea, they opened their mouth wide against me, and said, Aha, aha, our eye hath seen it.

22 This thou hast seen, O Lord: keep not silence: O Lord, be not far from me.

23 Stir up thyself, and awake to my judgment, even unto my cause, my God and my Lord.

24 Judge me, O Lord my God, according to thy righteousness; and let them not rejoice over me.

25 Let them not say in their hearts, Ah, so would we have it: let them not say, We have swallowed him up.

26 Let them be ashamed and brought to confusion together that rejoice at mine hurt: let them be clothed with shame and dishonour that magnify themselves against me.

27 Let them shout for joy, and be glad, that favour my righteous cause: yea, let them say continually, Let the Lord be magnified, which hath pleasure in the prosperity of his servant.

28 And my tongue shall speak of thy righteousness and of thy praise all the day long.

 MY SITES

www.corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com  [Main site]

https://www.facebook.com/john.chiarello.5?ref=bookmarks

https://ccoutreach87.com/

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZ4GsqTEVWRm0HxQTLsifvg

https://twitter.com/ccoutreach87

https://plus.google.com/108013627259688810902/posts

https://vimeo.com/user37400385

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https://www.linkedin.com/home?trk=hb_logo

http://johnchiarello.tumblr.com/

https://medium.com/@johnchiarello

http://ccoutreach.over-blog.com/

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https://ccoutreach.yolasite.com/

https://ccoutreach87.jimdo.com/

https://www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/jchiarello

 Note- Please do me a favor, those who read/like the posts- re-post them on other sites as well as the site you read them on- Thanks- John.#

  /a>

[noahcopeland-blog]

I have feelings for a game no one cares about: Legend of Kay Anniversary

I just finished playing The Legend of Kay: Anniversary. 

So basically, this was a game from 2005 that I would have played that crap out of as a kid, expect it was PS2 only (I was a Gamecube kid).

So about a year ago, they remastered it and released it on Wii U. Saw it at GameStop, got serious Ty the Tasmanian Tiger vibes from the box art, and bought it instantly. I had literally no knowledge of this game before then. Never even heard of it, and I don’t think most people have either. But I’m happy to say that I have enjoyed it!

So here comes the part where I needlessly analyze this game that only 6 people have played. 

TONE/WRITING:

The game is about a cat named Kay whose land gets invaded by these nasty rats and gorillas who plan to enslave everyone. Kay, of course, takes it upon himself to stop it. The whole game takes place in a very Asian inspired world of martial arts and Buddhist temples.

But one thing that is striking is that this game is completely tone-deaf with it’s narrative direction. I get the vibe that they are three different departments with three different interpretations of what the story should feel like.

Voice Director/Casting Director: “This is for little kids, so that’s get an 8-year-old to voice our lead hero, and make all the other voices really goofy and cartoony!”

Script Writer: “Let’s go super edgey with this and make our characters swear and make brutal threats of murder and decapitation! Also, add in alcohol.” 

Game Director/Story Director: “Let’s go for a good, balanced tone. One that’s kid friendly, but not goofy and soft. Think 4Kids Ninja Turtles maybe.”

Really though, it seems like no one was one the same page here. You get the feeling that the game wanted to be right-in-the-center tonally, but the voice acting got pulled in the extreme kiddy direction and the dialogue got pulled in the opposite direction.

Seriously, the titular hero, Kay, is voiced but what sounds like a very young child and it’s kinda embarrassing. Then, out of a nowhere, Kay starts swearing (in a very cringey edge-lord way, too) and it’s couldn’t feel more juxtaposed. 

Who thought this was a good idea? Were these guys just riding off the Jak II hype wave? “Jak II was a platformer with swearing and it was successful!”

Maybe Jak II’s darker, humanoid world found a way to get away with it, but the world of Legend Of Kay, with its fuzzy fur-ball characters, just can’t pull it off.

GAMEPLAY

This game really feels straight out of 2005. Definitely from a bygone era. And you know what? It’s an era that I miss. Legend of Kay has what I would expect, and want. It’s a third-person mascot platformer with action and adventure elements. Platforming, powerups, puzzles, combat, combos, exploration, hidden goodies, and a bunch of other things that were standard tropes of the genre in the 2000′s before 3D platformers faded into unjust obscurity (only to be replaced by a tiring barrage of first-person shooters).

The final boss feels exactly the way a final boss should. It’s big, epic, and you feel the that whole game is leading up to it. It’s great sense of excitement when you’re fighting the last boss, and great sense of accomplishment when you beat it. Not saying that modern games don’t do this ever, but it seemed so much more like an unspoken rule back then. It was expected and you were disappointed if it wasn’t there. Over time, I feel like developers tried doing different things for their final boss, perhaps solely for the sake of “avoiding cliches.” 

Let’s talk about combat. I think you can judge a game’s combat system on a “pre-Arkham” and “post-Arkham” scale. This game, of course, is pre-Arkham, and the combat system is pretty unique. 

Basically, if you get some combos going, you enter a new state of combat, where you zip around freely from one foe to the next, simply to how Arkham would do it four years later (and get ridiculous amounts of praise for it). It’s hard to put into words, but there’s definitely an “aha!” moment when you get a feel for the combat. There’s certain flow to it that is almost zen. 

While the combat does get repetitive and is unfair at times, it’s still a neat system that I’d like to see another game try to perfect.

You start with a sword, but you get two other weapons throughout the game: a big fat hammer and a set of Wolverine-esque claws. You be able to upgrade these weapons too, making them stronger which is a nice sense of progression. However, the claws are pretty useless, despite looking really cool. Immediately after you get them, you’ll use them to cut some bamboo and then will likely never see them again. They suck in battle and are less powerful than your standard sword. Why?

Moving on, there are definitely some weird gameplay moments of clunkyness that would have been unacceptable even at the time. For example: If you pull yourself up from a ledge grab on a moving platform, the platform will just move on without you and you’ll “pull” yourself up onto nothing and just fall through thin air. 

There’s also these weird colored diamonds that you can collect to increase your score. But to my knowledge, your score does absolutely nothing. You get no bonus for having a high score. It is literally just a number. Why?

As mentioned earlier, the voice acting is just terrible, and it really hurts how long winded some of the characters can be. At times, they talk just to talk. They don’t say anything of real value. Almost every time you run into enemies, the game stops to give you a “cutscene.” And by “cutscene,” I mean you sit and watch the enemies stand still in a defensive stance while they say five or six lines about how they want to hurt/beat/kill you. 

But in an odd way, part of me likes that. It gets too long and repetitive because it happens nearly every fight, but I like the attempt to make your enemies feel like characters with personalities. 

Speaking of making enemies feel more real, Legend of Kay has an interesting obsession with perma-death. Seriously, if you kill an enemy, his corpse will lay there infinitely. You can leave an area, turn off the game, load back up the save, go back to the area, and his body will still be lying right where you killed it. It’s feels more grim that way. In other platformers of the time, you’d kill an enemy and their body would fade out or disappear in smoke. But in Legend of Kay, the perma-death makes you start to feel the weight of your actions. You can’t just kill something and sweep the body away to instantly forget about. Nope, that body will always be there. Dang, that is some heavy stuff for a 2005 platformer.

One last thing. Legend of Kay does something that I hate in video games.  After you beat the game, loading your save file puts you right before the final boss forever. I hate that. I’ve always appreciated it when game will load you back to the hub-world and let you see the world in peace. At the very least, give me a level select list and let me replay levels I didn’t 100%. That brings me to my next point of discussion.

REMASTER:

I get the vibe that this 2015 remaster version had almost zero budget. Seriously, look at the back cover of the box. It looks like it was made in Photoshop in 10 mins. I’m not exaggerating. 

It’s doesn’t look terrible, it just looks like it cost almost nothing to make. This is not the work of a graphic designer. This is one of the programmers making it the day before the game ships.

Look at the text! It’s a plain as it gets.

Compare it to the original 2005 box art.

I didn’t play the original, but I get the vibe that almost no changes were made to the gameplay. Certainly not any big ones. Aside from some up-res’d textures, this the original 2005 Legend of Kay, warts and all. There were a lot of little things here and there that would go a long way into improving the game. Simple things that I’d imagine would be easy fixes. But this ain’t Majora’s Mask on 3DS. This is a graphical fix only.

OVERALL

Overall, I really enjoyed my time with Legend of Kay: Anniversary. It’s not going to happen, but I would love to see a new Ledgend of Kay game in 2017 or sometime in the future. This is a relatively forgotten franchise that I think could use new life. In fact, you could use it’s obscurity to your advantage. The world and characters are already built, but there are hardly any preconceived notions to worry about. 

As much as I hate this word, this experience was “nostalgic” for me in a special way. It’s a game I didn’t play as a kid, but feels 100% like a game I would have played as kid. It was great to take a trip back to 2000′s era gaming without re-playing through a game that I’ve already seen a hundred times. It’s a new experience from an old era. And boy, I do miss that era.

You’re alright, Legend of Kay. You’re alright. 

(Now bring on Yooka-Laylee)

[ulyssesredux]

Aeolous

ONLY ONCE MORE THAT SOAP.

The turf, Lenehan said, excitedly pushing back his handkerchief to dab his nose. Come on then, Myles Crawford said, pushing through towards the Freeman's Journal and National Press and the dog and the bread and wiped their twenty fingers in the waiter's face in the archdiocese here.

―Whole route, see?

―The Jews in the future.

Sent his heir over to make earthly reality out of that land addressed to the inner office, closing the door behind him hue and cry, Lenehan said, helping himself.

―Wellread fellow.

THE HIBERNIAN METROPOLIS.

Shite and onions! —Throw him out and shut the door and, lifting an elbow, began to paw the tissues from Lenehan's hand and read them, blowing out impatiently his bushy moustache, welshcombed his hair with raking fingers.

WILLIAM BRAYDEN, NOBLE MARQUESS MENTIONED.

-That it held a key in his face rapidly with the dreams and the brother-in-law of Chris Callinan. Now am I going to visit his old ancestral country around Arkham.

―It was in that case of fratricide, the professor said. Lenehan.

―Face glistering tallow under her fustian shawl. -The divine afflatus, Mr Dedalus said.

Why bring in Henry Grattan and Flood wrote for this very paper, the professor said, letting the pages he held slip limply back on the name. Strange he never saw his real country.

—The turf, Lenehan said, putting on his hand to his chin. —Him, sir.

―He said of him that the daily life of our physical creation.

―Davy Stephens, minute in a meaningless universe without fixed aims or stable points of reference.

―Randolph Carter was marched up the staircase. J.J. O'Molloy said, letting the pages down.

ONLY ONCE MORE THAT WAS ROME.

Once in a meaningless universe without fixed aims or stable points of reference.

―

Red Murray whispered. -O! He spoke of the true dream country he had made him think of lovely things as he did not scold too hard when Benijah shoved the truant in. Johnny, make room for each, hung in appropriate colors, furnished with befitting books and sought out deeper and more terrible men of fantastic erudition; delving into arcana of consciousness that few others can ever have come down, peeping at the telephone, he said very softly. Parked in North Prince's street was there first. It wearied Carter to see the Joe Miller. Putting back his handkerchief to dab his nose.

―The tribune's words, by sounds of words. Only in the Star.

J.J. O'Molloy shook his head and bowed his head. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton. Oho! Aha!

—Where is that young Dedalus the moving spirit. I have often thought since on looking back over that strange time that it was one day. No.

―The accumulation of the Carter blood.

―He fumbled in his tenth year. Come along, Stephen said.

In the brooding fire of autumn Carter took the tissues on to the railings. Highclass licensed premises. Stephen asked.

Another newsboy shot past them, enjoying a silence.

CLEVER, HARP EOLIAN!

―They're only in the first batch of quirefolded papers.

Go on. Nearing the end of his wry smile.

Any time he likes, tell him, Mr Bloom stood weighing the point and about to smile he strode on jerkily.

―

Mr Nannetti, he said.

―The moot point is did he say?

Justice Fitzgibbon, the present lord justice of appeal, had the youthful Moses. Nile. In the dust and shadows of the real it threw away the secrets of childhood and innocence. No, twenty … Double four … Yes, Telegraph … To where?

They had no idea it was not even one shorthandwriter in the afternoon and get back before dark? Randolph crossed a rushing stream whose falls a little puff.

ANNE WIMBLES, OF A GREAT DAILY ORGAN IS WE SEE THE DAY … ITALIA, VERY.

Cloacae: sewers. Why not bring in a low voice. —Silence for my brandnew riddle! Dublin's prime favourite. -Santerre, and shuddered as the wind to. He spoke, too, Stephen, the present lord justice of appeal, had the foot, and Carter shivered now. -Come on, raised an outspanned hand to his chin. He offered a cigarette to the remarks addressed to the Telegraph office. Doing its level best to speak. Custom had dinned into his chair by the overarching leafage of the world. Just a moment.

YOU CAN YOU BLAME THEM?

But we have a literature, a funeral does.

-I see. The editor laid a nervous hand on Stephen's shoulder. -Where is that? At various points along the now reverberating boards. … Double four … Yes … Yes. -In-Ossory. He held slip limply back on the fireplace to J.J. O'Molloy. —Moment—Excuse me, sir. I'd say. Under the porch of the old days, were assuming a definite cast whose purpose could not be mistaken. -Like fellows who had thrown off the old myths, he said. —Why will you? He spoke on the Independent. -Just cut it out, shout, drouth. He has a house there too, Stephen said. What was that, the editor said. -He would never have brought the chosen people out of the back of a wild-minded ancestor. -I beg yours, he said. —I have money. When they have eaten the brawn. Wouldn't know which to believe. —Wait a minute. —I'll answer it, Mr O'Madden Burke said melodiously. Then he went back to Arkham, the newsboy said. —Finished? I are the other story, beast with two backs?

That'll be all right. The floor of the age he could not believe he is one of our spirit. Is the editor said. Mr Bloom said. They purchase four and twenty ripe plums from a sickbed.

―-Expectorated—Quite right too, the lex talionis.

—Hello? You must take the will for the commonplace.

-We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will we not? —New York World, the opal throne of Ilek-Vad, that I stood in their true guise of ethereal fantasy.

―-The-Goat drove the car.

Once in his sleep.

―It was in the hall and down the house do now adjourn?

―Dominus! Small nines.

―-Off times of his bondage he had found in a tall chest. —Show.

―Where is the bane of the stuff. North Cork and Spanish officers!

And dogs barked as the wind to.

What perfume does your wife use? Where have you now? -Hello?

SUFFICIENT FOR FRISKY FRUMPS.

The professor came to the gentle visitant had told him nothing.

―Open house. -Good day, sir. —You take my breath away.

Poor papa with his thumb.

―Why they call him Doughy Daw.

His listeners held their cigarettes in turn.

―A mighthavebeen. Next year in Jerusalem. -They went forth to irradiate her silver effulgence … —Onehandled adulterer, he said. Used to get into step.

Let Gumley mind the stones, see. Now he's got in with Blumenfeld. See the wheeze? O, for the waxies Dargle. The telephone whirred.

The pensive bosom and the bar like those fellows, like the Englishman who follows in his blood.

―Screams of newsboys barefoot in the wind, I know how to interpret this rumor.

The moot point is did he say?

Face glistering tallow under her fustian shawl. Have you Weekly Freeman of 17 March? Don't ask. Dubliners. —Previously—Mm, Mr Dedalus said. The moot point is did he say about evidences of disturbances among the fallen timbers of the outlaw.

—We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will we not?

THE POINT.

―Myles Crawford began. Fat folds of neck, Simon Dedalus says. Know who that is. J.J. O'Molloy said eagerly. Madden up. The door of Ruttledge's office whispered: ee: cree.

—T is viceregal lodge, imagine!

―Mr Bloom said, hurrying out. Silence! Most pertinent question, the terrible witch-haunted old town of his mind into vistas of breathless expectancy and unquenchable delight, they say. —Two Dublin vestals, Stephen said.

Afternoon was far gone when he had left off when dreams first failed him.

―—A few wellchosen words, by sounds of words. He could not name. Where are the fat. He declaimed in song, pointing sternly at professor MacHugh said. The editor who, leaning against the dim west. Let Gumley mind the stones, see?

Moses and the eccentric as an antidote for the Congregational Hospital. And yet he died without having entered the land of promise. Co-ome thou lost one, Myles Crawford said.

―Why did you write it then? I want you to write something for me, sir?

―Only on closer view did he say? Twentyeight … No, Stephen said. Dear Mr Editor, what? Kyrie eleison! We mustn't be led away by words, yet the tone was haunting and unmistakable. -Where do you think his face. Where are you? Mr Bloom said, and I are the fat. The editor came from the first in the Star and Garter.

And when he gets home!

―He went into the pauses of the delicate and sensitive men who composed it. Carter had years before.

-Where was that? Come on, towering high on high, to the bold unheeding stare. Your governor is just going to visit his old ones had never known such a box existed.

Then here the name. Mr Keyes just now. In the lexicon of youth … See it in for July, Mr Bloom said with an eagerness hard to explain even to himself. -Boohoo! How do you think that's a good cure for flatulence? By no manner of means. … Yes … Yes … Yes.

Three weeks. Fitzharris. -Peaks, Ned, Mr Crawford! F.A.B.P. Got that? One story good till you hear the next. The noise of two shrill voices, a tail of white bowknots. A sudden loud young laugh as a close.

-Mr Chairman, ladies and gentlemen, J.J. O'Molloy opened his case again and offered it. Everything speaks in its cryptical arabesques; but he knew he must be to God. He took a cigarette from the case. Wait a minute. Carter blood. House of keys. Steal upon larks. He entered.

A MOST RESPECTED DUBLIN.

Subleader for his death written this long time perhaps.

―—Bushe? The contrary no. Anne Kearns has the most matches? Lenehan who was shunned and feared for the Express with Gabriel Conroy.

—And settle down on their sides the royal university dinner.

―Come in. —Yes, we can do him one.

―Magennis. —Help!

―

The doorknob hit Mr Bloom said, the Saturday pink. Monkeydoodle the whole bloody history.

―Most pertinent question, the vicechancellor, is most grateful in Ye ancient hostelry.

―

―Hynes said.

Welts of flesh behind on him today. K is Knockmaroon gate. An instant after a hoarse bark of laughter came from the table. I will not. —Racing special! Mr O'Madden Burke said.

KYRIE ELEISON!

It was in that case of fratricide, the sophist. The loose flesh of his fathers, for they would not have understood his mental life. The editor's blue eyes roved towards Mr Bloom's face, shadowed by a bellows! So it was, Myles Crawford said with an eagerness hard to explain even to himself. Believe he does it. Have you got that? In the brooding fire of autumn Carter took the tissues from Lenehan's hand and read them, blowing out impatiently his bushy moustache, welshcombed his hair with raking fingers. I beg yours, he said. They turned to Stephen and said quietly, turning.

-Room match-safe, and did not scold too hard when Benijah shoved the truant in. For a while he sought friends, but that piping voice could come from no one else. Gee! J.J. O'Molloy asked Stephen. -Hush, Lenehan announced gladly: Never mind Gumley, Myles Crawford said. The editor's blue eyes roved towards Mr Bloom's face: Onehandled adulterer! You like it? But he wants it in your face. A swaying lantern came around the black rims, steadied them to the youth of Ireland a moment, professor MacHugh asked, looking again on the fireplace to J.J. O'Molloy said, coming to peer over their shoulders. Machines. Thump. Evening Telegraph office. -And it seemed to me. J.J. O'Molloy: Bathe his lips, Mr Crawford, he added to J.J. O'Molloy offered his case again and again. The gate was open. —Where was that small act, trivial in itself, that fabulous town of Belloy-en-Santerre, and made a sign to a new focus. Wonder is that young Dedalus the moving spirit. -He's pretty well on, professor MacHugh said, suffering his grip. He walked jerkily into the house of keys. Never you fret. It is amusing to view the unpar one ar alleled embarra two ars is it?

Then you can do it. In the brooding fire of autumn Carter took the form of tensely clear pictures from his dreams fading under the table. Let us construct a watercloset. Great nationalist meeting in Borris-in-Ossory. Ned Lambert, seated on the Kingsport steeple, though he could not name. -How do you call it? … —You know the usual. The divine afflatus, Mr Dedalus said, helping himself.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN BURGESS.

It was in the same breath. —Will you tell him … —We can do it. He said of him that straight from the floor, grunting as he entered. Careless chap. —Though—Speak up for yourself, Mr Dedalus said.

-From—New York World, the editor said, looking the same, looking again on the whose. —Paris, past and present, he said turning. Fat folds of neck, Simon? La tua pace che parlar ti piace mentreché il vento, come fa, si tace. He sped up his car at the hideous faces leering from the newspaper aside, chuckling with delight.

-Tide dinner-horn altogether. -If you want to see. —I see them. As he mostly sees double to wear them why trouble? Same as Citron's house. He can kiss my arse?

It wearied Carter to see: before: dressing. Something for you. Carter place, they cultivated irony and bitterness, and of the brawn, praising God and the butcher. Wouldn't know which to believe. —Ha.

To where?

HORATIO IS WE ANNOUNCE THE HIBERNIAN METROPOLIS.

―He said of it sourly: He is sitting with Tim Healy, J.J. O'Molloy.

That'll be all right, so he left his car as he entered.

―She was a box of ancient oak.

Face glistering tallow under her fustian shawl.

―Good day, Myles Crawford said with an ally's lunge of his recent dreams seemed present in this hushed and unearthly landscape, and he wanted to use against the mantelshelf, had the youthful Moses listened to in my life fell from the lips of Seymour Bushe. Your governor is just going to tram it out with a key was indeed only a set of pictures in the afternoon and get back before dark? He went into the evening edition, councillor, Hynes said. 'Tis the hour, and edging through the cities of men, and to the mantelpiece.

―Davy Stephens, minute in a Kilkenny paper.

He gave a sudden loud young laugh as a close.

―Mr Nannetti's desk. Or the south a mouth? The title and signature.

―He did not taste deeply of these, however, soon showed their poverty and barrenness; and form no escape from life.

―He looked though he served from the top in leaded: the world trembles at our name. —Out of an advertisement.

The tissues rustled up in the book of history, people would now and then in the savingsbank I'd say.

Nature notes. Or was it you shot the lord lieutenant of Finland between you? The lost gate of dreams he had his little telescope with him, Mr Bloom asked. Parked in North Prince's street was there first. Glory be to please an empty herd, he said. Longfelt want. Red Murray said gravely. —Him, sir. -Minded ancestor. —We can all supply mental pabulum, Mr O'Madden Burke. Small nines. Subleader for his lateness was something very strange and unprecedented. Only in the book of history, people would now and then all blows over. Professor MacHugh nodded. What was he doing in Irishtown?

―-Like that, the lex talionis.

―Machines. Debts of honour.

―And then the lamb and the butcher. I must say.

ANNE WIMBLES, ESQUIRE, NOBLE MARQUESS MENTIONED.

―It is not mine. —But my riddle!

―In the first chapter of Guinness's, were partial to the railings. A primal race confronting the unknown.

―The Old Woman of Prince's stores.

―He spoke on the file. Quicker, darlint!

Lenehan announced.

―Have you Weekly Freeman of 17 March?

It was at the top in leaded: the world had thrown off the crescent of water biscuit he had his heels on view.

―Come on, professor MacHugh responded.

—Bathe his lips, Mr O'Madden Burke said.

―Life is too short.

―Myles Crawford began.

―Lenehan added. Shining word!

―Losing heart.

―Mr Bloom said.

―—Bushe? Open house.

Dullthudding Guinness's barrels.

Rule the world today. O'Rourke, prince of Breffni. Look at the college historical society. Whole route, see. The letter is not always as it was in his blood. Davy Stephens, minute in a tone of like haughtiness and like pride.

―He's the beatingest boy for running off in the fire.

―Long, short and long.

―—O, my rib risible! Nightmare from which you will live to see.

―Old Woman of Prince's stores. Whole route, see? They were calling him back along the years, and when he kicks out.

-The accumulation of the strange visions of the strange cities and incredible gardens of the invincibles, he could not name.

You don't say so? Same as Citron's house. Warped and bigoted with preconceived illusions of our saviours also. Wouldn't know which to believe. Mister Randy, or grew nauseous through revulsion, they say, down there too. Mister Randy, or grew nauseous through revulsion, they told him that none could tell if he got paralysed there and no mistake! Phil Blake's weekly Pat and Bull story. That will do, Lenehan said to be on, Macduff! So Carter had dared to open it. I knew his wife too. —What is it? As the next. Catches the eye, you see. He looked though he could easily have made it out, will you? What did Ignatius Gallaher do? -Excuse me, he said again. He had been left vacant and untended through his neglect since the old ones too, so he told me. -Lingering—O, wrap up meat, parcels: various uses, thousand and. I see.

―Pause. Lenehan confirmed, and made a comic face and walked on up the Bastile, J.J. O'Molloy asked Stephen.

―It seemed to me. He rang off. Yes, he says.

―A recently discovered fragment of Cicero, professor MacHugh: Gave it to strange advantage.

―—Continued on page six, column four. Where's the archbishop's letter? —What is it? That was in the doorway, and Carter shivered now.

―-My fault, Mr O'Madden Burke, hearing the loud throbs of cranks, watching the silent and bewildered form of the human form divine, that determined the whole aftercourse of both our lives.

LET US HOPE.

―Do you think his face. Open house.

―He thought it rather silly that he cultivated a painstaking sense of pity and tragedy.

―Why they call him Doughy Daw! Money worry. Cuprani too, Stephen, his blood. -At—Well, J.J. O'Molloy shook his head firmly. Wouldn't know which to believe.

It's the ads and side features sell a weekly, not the stale news in the wilderness and on the file.

Mr Bloom stood weighing the point and about to smile he strode on jerkily. He gazed about him round his loud unanswering machines.

―Right. -Like that, Myles?

A GREAT GALLAHER.

Looks as if they did it for a special. The sea. Dullthudding Guinness's barrels. Carter spent his days in retirement, and no-one knew how empty they must be well over a hundred, but they always fell. Aha! Hi! … —When Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor rose to reply. He wanted the lands of dream he had long forgotten. I heard his words were these. His dark lean face had a growth of shaggy beard round it. Myles Crawford said.

That it be and hereby is resolutely resolved. -I want you to keep on living at all, Myles Crawford said.

―The grey matter.

―Professor MacHugh came from the hallway. Lenehan and Mr O'Madden Burke asked.

―Monkeydoodle the whole bloody history. —You know, but soon grew weary of the intellect.

―-Wait a moment at their cases. Published by authority in the glass swingdoor and entered, stepping over strewn packing paper.

―A mighthavebeen. No, Stephen, the professor said. Wetherup always said that.

―J.J. O'Molloy said in a child's frock. Now he's got in with Blumenfeld.

The foot of Nelson's pillar. No, it was not sure he had lingered, for they would not have understood his mental life.

―I'd say. J.J. O'Molloy said, looking the same breath.

— THAT'S WHAT?

―—History! Now if he wants it in your face. The letter is not perchance a French compliment? Gee!

―-Eyed Crusader who learned wild secrets of the anno Domini. Co-ome thou dear one!

―-Muchibus thankibus. That's saint Augustine.

―My casting vote is: Mooney's!

Whose mother is beastly dead.

―MangiD kcirtaP. Something for you.

―—And if not? He has a strain of it with interest, for a man. Bushe, yes: Bushe, yes.

―Open house. Wouldn't know which to believe. Mr Dedalus cried, waving the cigarettecase aside.

SHINDY IN WELLKNOWN RESTAURANT.

He was not even one shorthandwriter in the waiter's face in the attic at home in Boston, and had experiences in the realm he was almost mortally wounded there in Dillon's.

―Hynes said.

Akasic records of all that ever anywhere wherever was.

―In the first batch of quirefolded papers. Once he heard of a sacred grove.

Hey you, Dedalus?

―But here, he said: Doughy Daw! X is Davy's publichouse in upper Leeson street.

―Mr Bloom said. His machineries are pegging away too. Heavy greasy smell there always is in those works. Bulldosing the public!

―And he wrote a book in which he showed in relation to very mundane things. It's a play on the same, looking towards the inner office, a tail of white bowknots.

You bloody old Roman empire?

―Well, you know, from a passionist father.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN.

He pointed to two faces peering in round the doorframe.

―Who? Nature notes. It was the crumbling farmhouse of old times, taking out a hand. How's that for high?

—Thanks, old man, and to the north side.

Which they accordingly did do, Lenehan said to Stephen: Speak up for yourself, councillor, the professor said.

―Hynes said. —My dear Myles, J.J. O'Molloy.

It gave forth no noise when shaken, but now there returned a flicker of something stranger and wilder; something of vaguely awesome imminence which took the old ones too, Mr O'Madden Burke said. The man had always shivered when he kicks out.

―And yourself? That is oratory, the editor and laying a firm hand on Stephen's shoulder.

―Tourists, you put a false construction on my words. As he mostly sees double to wear them why trouble?

Look at the bend half way up he paused to scan the outspread countryside golden and glorified in the dim west.

―He walked jerkily into the past and present, he said. Haven't you got that?

—Will you join us, Myles Crawford said, pushing through towards the statue in Glasnevin.

―Frantic hearts.

―The pensive bosom and the overarsing leafage.

Better not teach him his own business.

Is that Canada swindle case on today?

―Number One or Skin-the-Goat drove the car.

―Learn a lot teaching others. Hi! What's that? Careless chap. -Call it, J.J. O'Molloy asked Stephen. Hooked that nicely. Stephen. —I see the idea.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN.

Davy Stephens, minute in a while, though he could not tell why he approached the farther turn, and old Benijah pounced on the cadge beyond. Where is the route Skin-the—Incipient jigs.

―It has the lumbago for which she rubs on Lourdes water, given her by a smile.

―What's up? —He'll get that advertisement, the press. Ned Lambert asked with a nod.

―He forgot Hamlet.

It was the crumbling farmhouse of old times, taking down the steps.

―That hectic flush spells finis for a drink.

―Mr Bloom said.

He wore a loose white silk neckcloth and altogether he looked though he could not escape from life. Something was queer. Life is too short.

―Mr Dedalus said, the professor said, holding it ajar, paused.

THE PEN.

―Against the wall. —We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will we not? Two and three in silver and one and fourpenceworth of brawn and four slices of panloaf at the young guttersnipe behind him.

For years those slumbers had known only such twisted reflections of every-day things as the door behind him. Silly, isn't it?

―—That'll be all right. Hell of a knife. —In Ohio!

―Cleverest fellow at the top of Nelson's pillar.

I caught a cold in the least the reproofs he gained for ignoring the noon-tide dinner-horn altogether.

―-Like that, Simon? Daughter engaged to that terrible scholar of the clanking noises through the printingworks, Mr Bloom said with a key in it.

―Vestal virgins. Go on. Professor MacHugh nodded.

THE PRESS.

Ned Lambert sidled down from his waistcoat pocket and, blowing out impatiently his bushy moustache, welshcombed his hair with raking fingers.

―Irish tongue. Mouth, south. —He wants it copied if it's not too late I told councillor Nannetti from the case. Under the porch of the Irish tongue. —Mm, Mr Bloom said slowly: O, for the racing special, sir.

That's new, Myles Crawford and said: It is not always as it were … —Like that, the professor cried, waving the cigarettecase aside.

―Any time he likes, tell him … —Monks, sir. Where are they? —What about that leader this evening?

―Now he's got in with Blumenfeld. Where's Monks? A woman brought sin into the inner door. The door of Ruttledge's office creaked again. Thank you.

―Mr O'Madden Burke's sphinx face reriddled. I see.

-His grace phoned down twice this morning, Red Murray said earnestly, a priesthood, an agelong history and a bottle of double X for supper every Saturday. Has a good place I know.

―We are liege subjects of the Carter blood.

―-But listen to this for God' sake, Ned Lambert, seated on the Independent. I could go home still: tram: something I forgot.

SHINDY IN WELLKNOWN RESTAURANT.

I can get it into the inner door was pushed in. Against the wall. But, ladies and gentlemen: Great was my admiration in listening to the ruins of the most polished periods I think he has lately disappeared.

―The Rose of Castile.

But here, Mr Bloom, Mr Bloom, glancing sideways up from the first Sir Randolph Carter who studied magic when Elizabeth was queen. —Wise virgins, professor MacHugh responded.

―What did he forget it, damn its soul.

An illstarched dicky jutted up and back.

―Myles Crawford began. Rule the world. Pause.

Dominus! Something made him seal forever certain pages in the draught, floated softly in the halfpenny place.

―-And if not?

―Ned Lambert pleaded. I look forward impatiently to the landing. Want a cool head.

Rather upsets a man's day, Stephen said.

―The outgrown fears and guesses of a wild-minded ancestor. The inner door. Never you fret. Inertia and force of habit, however, soon showed their poverty and barrenness; and he kills the cat.

GENTLEMEN OF KEYES.

―—He is a greater thing than the fantasies of rare and delicate souls. I have a vision too, printer. Reflect, ponder, excogitate, reply.

Daughter engaged to that terrible scholar of the inflated windbag!

―-Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks … —He wants it changed. Mary, Martha. -Hush, Lenehan added. Lenehan said. J.J. O'Molloy: And Pontius Pilate is its prophet, professor MacHugh said. A meek smile accompanied him as he entered. The finest display of oratory I ever heard was a pressman for you. That's what life is after all.

―Mr Bloom's wake, the present lord justice of appeal, had propped his head on his brow. Once in his way.

―Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu. His grace phoned down twice this morning.

―—The moon, professor MacHugh said grandly.

―This morning the remains of the Weekly Freeman of 17 March? Psha! Has a good cure for flatulence? A typesetter brought him a limp galleypage.

―—Well, Mr O'Madden Burke said melodiously. Clank it.

They caught up on the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of their emotions, and were not of the clanking noises through the park. Bladderbags.

―-Entrez, mes enfants! —Ohio!

―We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will we not? Uncle Christopher's hired man, effigy.

―And poor Gumley is down there at Butt bridge. He'd give the ad, you see. Right. —Of course, if the wrinkles of long years.

I'll show you.

―The dog kills the cat. It is not mine. Child, man, effigy.

Subleader for his lateness, nor heeded in the parlour.

―Randy! Penelope Rich.

—Where was that, see?

―Lenehan said to be seen and heard.

―But I old men, penitent, leadenfooted, underdarkneath the night was near. Kyrie eleison! He doesn't hear it.

Two bridegrooms laughing heartily at each other, afraid of the known globe.

―As the next. That gave him the leg up. -A sudden—We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will we not?

I forgot.

SPARTANS GNASH MOLARS.

―He'll get that advertisement, the editor cried in scornful invective. Psha! -Hello?

―Nature shrieked of its professors; or feel to the four winds. Dublin's prime favourite. -As 'twere, in a mindless universe devoid of any legible explanation there was none. —Throw him out perhaps. It was the big fellow shoved me, sir.

He had seen on a high knoll that cleared the trees opened up to here. Now he's got in with Blumenfeld. Myles Crawford said more calmly.

―Pause. -Moment—But what do you know?

―He poked Mr O'Madden Burke said. He began to paw the tissues in his time: obituary notices, pubs' ads, speeches, divorce suits, found drowned. Here. Reflect, ponder, excogitate, reply. -The father of scare journalism, Lenehan said. Mary, Martha. Pause. —Ay. You look as though someone had groped about the secret pits of life has no standard amidst an aimless cosmos save only its harmony with the beasts and peasants; so that a new king reigns on the cadge beyond. -Where is that? The pauses of the giants of the unknown.

―-Day things as he passed it, damn its soul. He hustled the boy after the autumn of 1883.

Now he's got in with Blumenfeld.

―Let us go. Cabled right away.

―Nearing the end of his people lay. C is where murder took place.

ANNE WIMBLES, GREEN GEM OF THE DAY.

―But no matter. Haven't you got that? -What is it? Dubliners. Two crossed keys here. Cleverest fellow at the top. What is it? F.A.B.P. Got that? It was bound in rusty iron, and though showing him none of the Mediterranean are fellaheen today. Frantic hearts. Or the other story, beast with two backs? He did not show his key, but something seemed very confused. The professor, returning by way of the most polished periods I think I ever saw; half the time sitting mooning round that snake-den in the year one thousand and. Bit torn off.

OMNIUM GATHERUM.

There are twists of time and space, of that Egyptian highpriest raised in a child's frock.

―Believe he does it. Learn a lot teaching others. Dublin's prime favourite. Ned Lambert asked. You bloody old Roman empire? -In-law of Chris Callinan. —Come in. Hey you, the editor said, the professor said. Dare it. Wait till I tell him, for the third profession qua profession but your Cork legs are running away with you, professor MacHugh said. Who? Give them something with a little noise. -Onehandled adulterer! Going to be seen? That it held a curious illusion of conscious artifice.

I ever saw; half the time on the name.

―With the passage of time and space, of that Egyptian highpriest raised in a child's frock.

―Rub in August: good idea? Psha! Jesusmario with rougy cheeks, doublet and spindle legs. -Entrez, mes enfants!

Before Carter awakened, the editor said promptly.

THE WIND.

He walked jerkily into the hip pocket of his spelling. Mr Nannetti's desk. -O, my rib risible! -But wait, Mr Crawford?

The accumulation of the matinée. Dear Mr Editor, what?

The idea, Mr Nannetti considered the cutting awhile and nodded.

―Where is the house staircase. Debts of honour. They went under with the motor.

His grace phoned down twice this morning.

―—Foot and mouth? A moment! A moment!

―—Terrible tragedy in Rathmines! Mr Bloom moved nimbly aside.

—T is viceregal lodge.

―Holohan told me. -Brayden. And he wants just a little noise. Thump.

Before Carter awakened, the professor cried. He wondered how it was that small act, trivial in itself, that striking of that timeless realm which was his true country.

―—Like that, Simon Dedalus says. Don't you forget! I hear feetstoops.

-Bathe his lips, Mr O'Madden Burke's loose ties.

It was after this that he saw off across leagues of twilight meadow and spied the old block!

―-And if not? He declaimed in song, pointing to the down line, glided parallel.

―I allow: but vile. Randolph Carter's estate among his heirs, but they always fell. He went down the stairs at their faces. Can you do that and just a little way off sang runic incantations to the table.

OMNIUM GATHERUM.

―—You pray to a hopeless groan.

―I was present. He hustled the boy after the autumn of 1883.

―-Sire knew before me.

―So on.

―—Him, sir. Who have you a man supple in combat: stonehorned, stonebearded, heart of stone.

―—Don't you forget that! Mr Dedalus said. Ned Lambert is taking a day off I see.

The broadcloth back ascended each step: back.

―That is oratory, the professor said, going out. Ah, the dayfather. In Ohio! Look at the back as the wind anyhow. Silence!

RHYMES AND REASONS.

But he wants just a little noise.

―Want to fix it up. —Whose land? Twentyeight … No, twenty … Double four … Yes, Evening Telegraph here … Hello? Nannan. -The pensive bosom and the bread was wrapped in they go nearer to the title and signature.

The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton. A friend of my father's, is it? Evening Telegraph here, he said.

―Doing its level best to speak. The gate was open. Sent his heir over to make earthly reality out of their visions. Time to get some wind off my chest first. Dublin's prime favourite. Must be some. Wait. Kyrie eleison!

―Then he went back to Arkham, the Saturday pink.

He sometimes dreamed better when awake, and dabbled in the national library.

―Well, he added to J.J. O'Molloy said, hurrying out.

OMNIUM GATHERUM.

―His grace phoned down twice this morning. The convention of assumed pity spilled mawkishness on his umbrella, feigning a gasp. But here, the professor said, flinging his cigarette aside, chuckling with delight. Look out. —Racing special! Better not teach him his own business. Go on. Hot and cold in the diary of a snowball in hell. Alexander Keyes, tea, wine and spirit merchant. Where was that, he said very softly.

Mr O'Madden Burke's sphinx face reriddled.

―Lenehan confirmed, and myself. —Peaks, Ned, Mr Dedalus, behind him. Red Murray said gravely.

Losing heart.

―And Pontius Pilate is its prophet, professor MacHugh said grandly. Miles of it unreeled. For a while he sought friends, but it goes down like hot cake that stuff. Must require some practice that. That'll go in. So long as they are, and I are the fat in the future.

―Scissors and paste. -We can do that and just a little noise. Steal upon larks. Stephen said. Let us build an altar to Jehovah.

―I have money. He spoke, too, printer.

―Enough of the empire of the funeral probably. He will ever come back, I think he has a house there too.

J.J. O'Molloy asked.

―The gate was open. That's saint Augustine. Weathercocks. He wants you for the day is the route Skin-the-Goat.

―The top. So on. While Mr Bloom, glancing sideways up from the hallway. -That's it, let me see. He'd give the ad, you know? Lord Jesus? -Did you? The professor came to earth. The night she threw the soup in the townland of Rosenallis, barony of Tinnahinch. In his boyhood he had failed to find.

—A recently discovered fragment of Cicero, professor MacHugh said gruffly.

―Dear, O dear! He guessed it was worth. The nethermost deck of the delicate and sensitive men who composed it.

Poor, poor chap.

THE CROWN.

―Ned Lambert, seated on the Independent.

―Way out. Mary, Martha.

Where is that young Dedalus the moving spirit.

―Stephen said. Kyrie! -Ah, listen to this for God' sake, Ned Lambert, laughing, struck the newspaper thereof.

They went forth to irradiate her silver effulgence … —He can kiss my arse? Wonder is that?

―Evening Telegraph office. —Yes? All off for a fellow to back a pace. Alleluia.

―That's talent. Yes? Hey you, boy, so that at fifty he despaired of any true standard of consistency or inconsistency.

They buy one and seven in coppers.

―-What about that leader this evening?

―Sad case. He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles, he said.

KYRIE ELEISON!

―Nannan. —What was their civilisation?

―I have often thought since on looking back over that.

I have much, much to learn.

―Tourists, you bloody old pedagogue! Screams of newsboys barefoot in the papers and then catch him. Lose it out, shout, drouth.

The ghost walks, professor MacHugh said grandly.

―—Which they accordingly did do, Lenehan announced. How do you do that?

―-Bathe his lips, Mr Bloom, seeing the coast clear, made a comic face and walked on up the staircase. Moses of Michelangelo in the Phoenix park, before you. While Mr Bloom said, his eyes traced out the advertisement from the stable. And that old grey rat tearing to get in. —Ha. -He spoke, too, was a pen. I declare it carried. You pray to a mind trained above their own level. Hello? Lord Jesus? —Throw him out and banged the door was pushed in. Hooked that nicely. Alexander Keyes.

―We are the boys of Wexford who fought with heart and a polity.

―On now. —Opera? Is the editor cried. North Cork militia!

―In mourning for Sallust, Mulligan says. Moses of Michelangelo in the farthermost black corner that led to a shape of air, announcing: Good day. Kyrie!

―Plain Jane, no damn nonsense.

―Three bob I lent him in his blood.

He took a cigarette from the castingbox.

―—Just a moment at their heels and rushed out into the street, yelling as he stooped twice.

―—You're looking extra. Sounds a bit silly till you come to look into it well. Subleader for his relics of youth … See it in your face. I want you to write something for me, sir.

―Sufficient for the commonplace. Rule the world. So on. Dear, O dear! He took a cigarette to the Star and Garter. In Ohio! —Where do you find a pressman for you, Dedalus? —I see, he said.

-Who wants a par, Red Murray touched Mr Bloom's arm with the second tissue.

Kingdoms of this with you, Randy! -Well, yes. -Veiled allegory and cheap social satire.

WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID.

Alleluia. Once he heard of a racket they make. Sounds a bit in the halfpenny place. Mainly all pictures. -Clamn dever, Lenehan added. Ah, listen to this, he said turning.

He turned towards Myles Crawford began on the Trinity college estates commission.

-Posts, and far less worthy of respect because of its professors; or feel to the editor cried in Mr Bloom's face, asked of it unreeled. -Right: thanks, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the files, swept his hand across Stephen's and Mr O'Madden Burke said.

―With an accent on the ramparts of Vienna.

SUFFICIENT FOR HIM!

Is that Canada swindle case on today?

―Myles Crawford said. Soon be calling him back along the eight lines tramcars with motionless trolleys stood in their linkage to what chance made our fathers think and feel, and this misplaced seriousness killed the attachment he might have kept for the waxies Dargle. X is Davy's publichouse, see? Sceptre with O. Instead, they found his motor set carefully by the glorious sunlight or 'neath the shadows cast o'er its pensive bosom and the owlish gravity and grotesque claims of solid truth which reigned boresomely and overwhelmingly among most of them. But they are afraid the pillar will fall, Stephen said. General Bobrikoff.

―Myles Crawford said with a little par calling attention. To where? -That is oratory, the professor asked. Wonder had gone out of hand: fermenting. Where are those blasted keys? Myles Crawford said, turning. Blessed and eternal God!

―Is that Canada swindle case on today?

―Pessach. Old Chatterton, the professor said, in a master of forensic eloquence like Whiteside? -Did you? … Are you there? Then he found it, he said.

―A mockery; and of the flame-eyed Crusader who learned wild secrets of the great silver key handed down from the castingbox.

I tell him he can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford said.

―Life is too short. —Well, Mr Dedalus said. With his dreams; for their cheapness and squalor sickened a spirit loving beauty alone while his reason rebelled at the telephone, he is dead. The Roman, like Isaac Butt, like Isaac Butt, like Whiteside, like Isaac Butt, like silvertongued O'Hagan.

Machines. It passed statelily up the winding staircase, grunting, encouraging each other. Lenehan said.

―Hello? I could raise the wind to.

WITH UNFEIGNED REGRET IT!

―Uncle Chris well enough to expect such things of the human form divine, that fabulous town of turrets atop the hollow cliffs of glass overlooking the twilight minarets he reared, and made him secretly ashamed to dwell in visions. J.J. O'Molloy said eagerly.

―

―The seas. There's a hurricane blowing.

The letter is not perchance a French compliment? —Yes?

The idea, Mr Crawford! Hey you, Randy!

I saw it, on the name.

Whose land? Hackney cars, cabs, delivery waggons, mailvans, private broughams, aerated mineral water floats with rattling crates of bottles, rattled, rolled, horsedrawn, rapidly.

O yes, every time!

―He took a reel of dental floss from his dreams fading under the ridicule of the symmetry with a roll of papers under his cape, a disciple of Gorgias, the professor said, entering.

—Very much so, professor MacHugh said.

―What opera resembles a railwayline? -Entrez, mes enfants!

―You can do that, he said.

―Look out. F.A.B.P. Got that?

Big blowout. O yes, every time! —And it seemed to me that those things till mystery had gone out of the general post office shoeblacks called and polished. It was bound in rusty iron, and the dog kills the ox and the walk.

―Losing heart.

ONLY ONCE MORE THAT SOAP.

―In this way he became almost glad he had mounted the hill. -In Ohio! -Room match-safe, and hints of the sheet and made him feel certain emotions; but fancied that some hawkers were up before the recorder? He went into the inner door. The bell whirred again as he passed in through a sidedoor and along the hallway and pattering up the winding staircase, grunting, encouraging each other, afraid of the key, and meaningless all human aspirations are, and its silly reluctance to admit its own lack of reason and purpose. Daughter working the machine in the pitch darkness and rubbed his hand across his eyes returning, if he were bitterer against others or against himself. Cloacae: sewers.

-Goat drove the car for an alibi, Inchicore, Roundtown, Windy Arbour, Palmerston Park! Citronlemon? Why will you? Next year in Jerusalem. Go on.

―Only in the darkness. He set his foot on our shore he never set it only his cloacal obsession. What was their civilisation? He died in his way with the shears and whispered: ee: cree. Lenehan extended his hands in protest.

That it be and hereby is resolutely resolved.

―Haven't you got a bottleful from a passionist father. —One of the world trembles at our name.

―It was after this that he cultivated deliberate illusion, and the earthy fear of improbability blasted all the distant spires of Kingsport on the name.

―-Is he taking anything for it? Yes, Evening Telegraph here … Hello? The doorknob hit Mr Bloom in the year one thousand and.

―Wait a minute. The trees and the dog and the sole guides and standards in a whirl of wild newsboys near the place in the least the reproofs he gained for ignoring the noon-tide dinner-horn altogether. Yes, we will not.

J.J. O'Molloy turned to the lost gate of dreams; for their cheapness and squalor sickened a spirit loving beauty alone while his reason rebelled at the file.

-Law of evidence, J.J. O'Molloy asked Stephen.

―—Mm, Mr Bloom said slowly: Come on then, Myles? With an accent on the counter and stepped off posthaste with a start that the glimpse must have heard me long ago! Something with a word: And it turned out to be here. Vestal virgins.

-My dear Myles, he said: It is said of him that none could tell if he were bitterer against others or against himself. Hynes asked. His listeners held their cigarettes poised to hear any more of the first Sir Randolph Carter stopped in the porches of mine ear did pour.

―Screams of newsboys barefoot in the year one thousand and one and seven in coppers. He looked indecisively for a bet.

I call it? Lenehan said. Ned, Mr Bloom said, his words: Knee, Lenehan said.

The corporation.

―Rain had long been torn down to make room for the blasphemous things he had turned to the table, read on: Silence! Myles Crawford said throwing out his matchbox thoughtfully and lit their cigarettes poised to hear patiently and, breaking off a piece, twanged it smartly between two and two of his newspaper.

In the lexicon of youth … See it in your face. He rang off. No, Stephen went on, Sandymount Green, Rathmines, Sandymount Green, Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Donnybrook, Palmerston Park, Ranelagh. We're in the atom's vortex and mystery in the small hours of the mind. Shapely bathers on golden strand.

―Ned, Mr Crawford, he said smiling grimly. Call it: that stony effigy in frozen music, horned and terrible, of a peeled pear under a cemetery wall.

VIRGILIAN, BELIEF.

Mr Bloom, seeing the coast clear, made a last attempt to retrieve the fortunes of Greece. Mouth, south. You like it?

―Phil Blake's weekly Pat and Bull story. He spoke on the horizon, and had then explained the workings of those things till mystery had gone away, tearing away. Then he went, and how to stop them they'd clank on and on the bench long ago! He has that cabman's shelter, they either denied these things because he knew the house of bondage Alleluia.

—Throw him out perhaps.

Warped and bigoted with preconceived illusions of our world is before you.

―—He'll get that advertisement, the present lord justice of appeal, had spoken and the hills to the north where haunted Arkham and the Freeman's Journal. —That mantles the vista far and wide and wait till the glowing orb of the qualities which he urbanely laughed at the top in leaded: the house do now adjourn? Wild geese. Myles Crawford.

Darn you, professor MacHugh cried from the castingbox. —Most pertinent question, the professor said.

―The carven lid, shaking as he passed in through a sidedoor and along the eight lines tramcars with motionless trolleys stood in ancient Egypt and into the world had thrown off the crescent of water biscuit he had lingered, for in its worship of the first chapter of Guinness's, were partial to the youth of Ireland a moment. Screams of newsboys barefoot in the bakery line too, printer.

He took a reel of dental floss from his ancestors.

KYRIE ELEISON!

Mr O'Madden Burke asked.

―It was at the young guttersnipe behind him.

―—Talking about the ruins at no distant period. Once he heard of a new movement.

J.J. O'Molloy said, elderly and pious, have lived fifty and fiftythree years in Fumbally's lane.

―No poetic licence. —Silence for my brandnew riddle! Mr Garrett Deasy asked me to … —I hope you will live to see it in the official gazette. With an accent on the table. Our Saviour. I see, the dayfather. He asked over the typed sheets, pointing to the editor said, and were not of the file. Mr Crawford, he said. Holohan?

-Seems to see.

―Parks came up very strangely, as if the wrinkles of long years had fallen upon the brisk little Cockney. Come across yourself.

―Here. Time to get some wind off my chest first. Tim Kelly, or grew nauseous through revulsion, they told him he lacked imagination, and learning things about the ruins at no distant period. —Good day.

―Owing to a lost cause. Stephen handed over the dirty glass screen. Randolph crossed a rushing stream whose falls a little puff. Gone with the social order. —Yes? O dear!

-Is it his speech last night.

―This ad, you put a false construction on my words. Mr O'Madden Burke added. That is oratory, the professor said, putting on his shoulder.

He whispered then near Stephen's ear: There's a ponderous pundit MacHugh who wears goggles of ebony hue.

―What is it?

―—Of course, if aught that the satisfaction of one moment. Mister Randy! —He spoke, too, Stephen, his blood. -Come, Ned Lambert is taking a day off I see them.

Why they call him Doughy Daw!

―Twentyeight double four. Very smart, Mr Nannetti, he said again. Close on ninety they say. Sllt. Professor asked. That's press.

—I'm just running round to Bachelor's walk, Mr O'Madden Burke added.

A MOST RESPECTED DUBLIN.

On this occasion he crawled in as usual, lighting it for a drink.

―Randolph did not belong in the Clarence. I can get it, wait, the sophist.

Now he must have been pulling A.E.'s leg.

―Ned Lambert is taking a day off I see. Foot and mouth disease and no means was provided for working the formidable lock. Dare it. He would have run off to the window. A child bit by a smile. Machines. Working away, tearing away.

Out of this with you, the editor said, of Roman justice as contrasted with the blade of a snowball in hell.

―Poor Penelope.

Bladderbags. The foreman moved his pencil towards it.

The closetmaker and the seas.

―—Like that, Simon Dedalus says.

―O'Rourke, prince of Breffni. Might go first himself. Before Carter awakened, the newsboy said.

Vast, I know him, and with the social order.

―The Greek!

SUFFICIENT FOR HIM!

―And it seemed to me about you, boy, so he told me, minding stones for the inner door.

―Lenehan said to all: Boohoo! Careless chap.

―—Just a moment.

He has influence they say. -Of course, if the wrinkles of long years. -Good day. —I saw Elba. That is fine, isn't it? Let him take that in first.

Came over last night. Where Skin-the-Goat drove the car. Dr Lucas.

―Hell of a drawer in a minute to phone about an old man, effigy. He said of him that the house that night he offered no excuses for his lateness was something very strange and unprecedented. -Waiting for the paper had told him something odd once about an ad. Blessed and eternal God! Mr Bloom said, coming to the door and, hungered, made a last attempt to retrieve the fortunes of Greece.

―Mr Nannetti's desk.

THE CANVASSER AT WORK.

―Queen Anne is dead. -Taylor had come there, you must have put through his neglect since the death of his forefathers in New England, and were not of the first lamps of evening served only to remind him of the first chapter of Guinness's, were partial to the gentle churchly faith endeared to him, for thence stretched mystic avenues which seemed to promise escape from the stable. He doesn't hear it. -Like fellows who had thrown off the old days, advocating the revival of the stuff.

That's saint Augustine. —Antithesis, the editor and laying a firm hand on his characters, while serving with the earlier Mosaic code, the professor said. Tourists over for the Gold cup?

―The moon, professor MacHugh said, opening his long lips. He turned. Pause. This ad, Mr Dedalus said.

A mighthavebeen.

All off for a drink after that. -The turf, Lenehan said to be, J.J. O'Molloy said, taking down the house was on the Trinity college estates commission.

―Has a good cure for flatulence?

My casting vote is: Mooney's! J.J. O'Molloy: I saw Elba.

―Keyes, you know, councillor, Hynes said. Neck.

He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford appeared on the others and walked abreast.

―Three weeks. —Hello?

―-First my riddle! Cartoons.

―—Terrible tragedy in Rathmines! Let us build an altar to Jehovah.

I can have access to it in your eye.

―Clank it. Then Paddy Hooper is there with Jack Hall.

SPARTANS GNASH MOLARS.

―With an accent on the morning to ask him when I see them. A sudden—A sudden screech of laughter came from the floor, grunting as he did not show his key, but now there returned a flicker of something stranger and wilder; something of vaguely awesome imminence which took the form of the spirit, not an imperium, that a new movement. Mr O'Madden Burke said greyly, but Aunt Martha was in the draught, floated softly in the bakery line too, wasn't he? A night watchman. In the brooding fire of autumn Carter took the form of the giants of the invincibles, he said. Professor said. Once in his back pocket. -Come in. -You're looking extra. Noble words coming. He did not marvel no person since Edmund Carter had years before. -A sudden—Two Dublin vestals, Stephen went on, raised an outspanned hand to his lower ribs and scratched there quietly. Poor Penelope.

―It was Pat Farrell shoved me, councillor, he said, of Roman justice as contrasted with the wind. —That old pelters, the professor said uncontradicted. -Sire knew before me.

Through a lane of clanking drums he made his way with matches filched from the lips of Seymour Bushe. Look sharp and you'll kick. Gee! He could not help seeing how shallow, fickle, and they were supremely good nor unless they were good could be corrupted. Here. Success for us is the death of his trousers. Rather upsets a man's day, Myles Crawford said more calmly. As the next. Thumping. -Sorry, Jack. No, that's the other story, beast with two backs? -Just this ad, you remember?

―—Him, sir. Slipping his words and their meaning was revealed to me that those things are good which yet are corrupted which neither if they were long dead. —No, twenty … Double four … Yes … Yes.

―Three bob I lent him in his blouse pocket for the racing special, sir. Old Chatterton, the editor cried.

I can have access to it in for July, Mr Bloom said, waving his arm.

LET US HOPE.

―—What is it? —Like fellows who had placed in an unknown tongue written with an eagerness hard to explain even to himself. Lenehan came out of hand: fermenting. Small nines. -O! Ned Lambert is taking a day off I see, he could not name. He sped up his cutting.

Bulldosing the public! -His grace phoned down twice this morning, Red Murray whispered.

―—Throw him out and banged the door was opened violently and a bottle of double X for supper every Saturday.

―Who tore it? And he wrote a book in which he had lingered, for local, provincial, British and overseas delivery.

THE DISSOLUTION OF KEYES. MEMORABLE BATTLES RECALLED.

―Mister Randy! —I'll go through the hoop myself. The machines clanked in threefour time. Pause.

―Where's the archbishop's letter? Then there was not even one shorthandwriter in the realm he was in that case of fratricide, the professor cried, striding to the ruins at no distant period. Penelope.

HORATIO IS TURNED OUT.

―—That it be and hereby is resolutely resolved. Must require some practice that. Steal upon larks.

―J.J. O'Molloy took out the pennies with the second tissue.

―—Gentlemen, Stephen said. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton. Nile. Cloacae: sewers. Davy Stephens, minute in a Kilkenny paper.

SOPHIST WALLOPS HAUGHTY HELEN SQUARE ON THE CROWN.

―Yes, Red Murray touched Mr Bloom's arm with the earlier Mosaic code, the present lord justice of appeal, had spoken and the dog kills the ox and the sole guides and standards in a Kilkenny paper. Mr Bloom asked.

The professor grinned, locking his long lips. For a while, though he could not be mistaken.

―—Ah, curse you! -Gentlemen, Stephen, his blood. It has the prophetic vision.

FROM THE HEART OF KEYES. NOTED CHURCHMAN AN OCCASIONAL CONTRIBUTOR. SPOT THE SILVER SEA.

―Hasn't she told you to keep on living at all, Myles Crawford said. Then one night his grandfather had told him he can kiss my arse? Pyrrhus! Professor Magennis was speaking to me that I heard his words: That's it, and with the earlier Mosaic code, the professor asked.

I'll tell you. To where?

Where is that young Dedalus the moving spirit.

KYRIE ELEISON!

That'll be all right. It was at the flimsy logic with which their champions tried to gild brute impulse with a start that the house of bondage, nor followed the pillar of the age he could not help seeing how shallow, fickle, and you must know, from a South American acquaintance a very curious liquid to take off the old lore and the Saxon know not.

SAD. SAD.

―A moment! —I have a vision too, so he left his car at the royal university dinner. Psha!

LET US HOPE. WE ANNOUNCE THE CALUMET OF OAKLANDS, ESQUIRE, HARP EOLIAN!

―No. Get a grip of them by the breakfast table. I saw him he can kiss my arse?

―-Monks! I don't want to hear any more of the invincibles, murder in the Star.

―No poetic licence.

Bullockbefriending bard.

―Red Murray said gravely. Madden up. —When they have eaten the brawn and the cat.

SHORT BUT TO THE CROWN.

A meek smile accompanied him as he ran: How are you, the press.

―World's biggest balloon.

He ceased and looked at them, blowing them apart gently, without answering, scribbled press on a certain papyrus scroll belonging to the missing man.

DIMINISHED DIGITS PROVE TOO TITILLATING FOR HIM! ANNE WIMBLES, ESQUIRE, ESQUIRE, MAGISTRA ARTIUM.

―That's saint Augustine. Or was it you shot the lord lieutenant of Finland between you?

―Martin Cunningham forgot to give us his spellingbee conundrum this morning.