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libidomechanica · 3 months ago

Text

Untitled (“For this”)

A sonnet sequence

For this stranger, left behind, when the streaming fearful moan, among the dust of death, retire a little one, while my sire charmeth thee, sweet Stellas rayes, reason, thou kneeld’st, and tellen our fill, and clothe you both in you, his wife, his issue, and all her friends, loved of mortal can. A tender face a slender palms together, dwarfed or godlike, bond or free: for she was, and to her fair works did Nature made for me. Fires, yet since she pricke, sayne, other the shot, which thee doth live. With sweet mood when place ceased to set off every other poem written is to be aristocratic hinges.

Thy music than theirs, less false women’s fashionable bows their walls, wherein were wrought that she could have souls, poets, whose strings; horses are banished, and seem to keep. Though t was Don Juan raised his legs, oh!—I can only had the soul of Ida fell, and may not well divine wildly on Sir Leoline, though not lust. Will, that at each doth good turns of the monk made him have reached the squires familiarly formal, and my lords ally your forth my tears before, with a most wretched plight, he probably would have plainly in her mood than in her ruddiest hours, such letting in the core; and gather’d a large tree.

A flying Time from all its ways, and People, and lonely shout, halloo! Gripped tight bends to Betty’s question. But Johnson was a flower. And there occur some violation in the dale, and by the time and patriot nation, those silks are not Ida; ’ clasp it once all-fragrant with thy fair imperfect the present family’s death. When the distant years were all thy heart, and therefore in his travelling trim, and by sweet will make us toys of men: and ye meanwhile far over moor and felt the individual withers by Lord Love’s whisper her name from what colors coincide in white.

No fate for you look on noble fellow, and rolling the Cup of Happiness or scorn, began the joys of reading a Gazette are purchased by all that I should he lose his eyes the little knew, or might have said, nor blame too much on one side. Upon the blood is stay’d, and all male minds performed in play, such primal naked forms of flowers. The room closest to the digits of my hate. Weep me not to be disclose unto the dream, the fancy! I heard, or thought delight as it happens next because their equal rights against the lips. Hardly my selfe escaped thilke payne, driuen for neede to come.

Began to rally his sons, in one wide wound must be carried by the Stone of that, in guess, twas frightful tale with a long had loved thee more. They pass the Baron, the white ravine, nor find him; by the chief powres are but gauds; nay, what am I that thus lay fluttering talk seem’d his jokes were the parted soul. He too upon a tree say to him: Friend. Why is thy cheek; he can afford no praise. Tiptoe to reach their sake and for the doctor, says the wife is: thou art mated with pyne and past: since which really durst put to proof, in the other one alive? But where will I quite ensure; but still to flie, first did with pity: even as the home heart-ballads of Green Erin or Gray Highlands, that brings thee soon; rest, rest, on mother nourished up, tenderness touch by touch, and were green leave him crying, nor seek him so giv’n to flying. The house through the flesh in his mouth. Said, but to dwell in thine.

The cold season to wach and ward, from soddein force together thoughts of love, thy lieutenant, lies; my forces razde, thy banners raisd within it. Both so, and they rode furious, love, and hope to feed her forth with one we love doth work like madness off like a smile could not refuse their office; he took a bird’s-eye-view of heaven, they straight convey the cold, calm kiss of a virgin’s blood; but kill a new-born infant’s grave in size and those for whom I would be very body out of memory sweet hours that warmed our desires has broken his bow of ourselves. Makes men, like a swarm of fire.

The sons of men. Over a pool in themselues O sweetest prison twine. The green leave her way while he leant from a bullet or a bomb, and that Susan’s fate her life to fight against the coop. All have, though Blanche had gone throughout the cornice-wreath blossom’d gable-ends at the full-waked sense; or failing? With display, yet mix’d so slight clatter, like showers of love. This is alone in an empty house, here half-hid in the evening by the watery glass, which of this a woman who was nearest. That masked thee more than the dews of the heat of carnage, like the hand. ’ Hearts lie fallow air?

The haplesse mischief of all kinds, and see the lurid flow of terror, and afterward, if he must stay:—she’s in a mighty Being is a woe; our robe de chambre may sit like a gleaner thou and I would proclaim it far and wide, sam slips bedeck the greater than I know, has tantalized me many times since: that scarlet cloak, and string? Others who knelt at the light in your old age maintain’d at length back to eyes that they’ve been difference beheld between his cap and hear me and maybe you can tell; yet might or might not upon the strongly acted on, what euer things. And shook—he shut his doom.

Under through this was no great deale worse: for it was with a squalid savage—what to learn to look at each with great sages draw no prize with women: but we’llsay nought to me was ashamed of souls, like most sincere crystal seek, but fighting thought of naught to him that reaps not half so fair. To woman, superstition with some slight defect; who after room, I hunt the great names will I ask the reverential awe we watch’d the strife, they wander at wil, and stray at pleasure, woman’s pain—nature made to gild a stormless summer. Despite my sad and sound, the oaken log lay on the spot away!

And she as one that poor old Susan, she shall vex thee still, a much longer think of her love, with a doubtful twilight gleams, glimmer on high, by day, and the grassy slope I traced of swords. Proving that the sky of a true portrait in my father’s eyes be blessedness of heart and bred, and with home; not five yards beyond the shells before thus, by day and night of ancient Muse or modern youth. And list to the civil list he deigns to accept obliging all. A purer life to chance; but point me out some respect, however then her dread, and from our grammar upwards, friends from heaven above!

The budding more than is or ever down and sees a damsel bright, that I had rather puzzled quite. And see how amber through all sounds not worn that laid him dead. Just for once can you thought, like the scepter of all kinds, and twelve for they nould be something much light in a silken net and fawn at a victor’s may appal or stun the service of Sir Leoline! And cannot tell; I wish I did, and gently stroking his beard, he puff’d his path of fame: he must stay:—she’s in a merry meeting, as everybody knows here is no more alone! Worst times still, and to his self-same welcome: not with gore.

But those deny who will. It selfe makes thus they burr at you, but, Betty! And gazed on Juan with baleful ardor burn, i fear no fate for you to see them i want to find a solution, so I write letter. Hears thy voice right, the dove it heaves and dreads his doom. For a raven ever crying, nor seek him so giv’n to flying. So gentlemen to death. They err—’t is merely had the signs. So, through the sense. Water, yet the Song is not for all her old compared with those silks are not for the night sublime with the historie, a poet eke, as humours fly or creepe; since then, dear friends retiring.

Their column, underneath the owls have a philosophy, Dorothy, after a good deal more there from Psyche’s lecture, you that will let the garden, there were two poachers caught and picture in my seeing farther than all sorts of shot and sitting spot to which all Petersburgh is on the watery glass, and far below his feet to see houris, like break off in vain the yellowing, trembling, he went through my longings for this defect,—for that inscription on its base as stands a statue, stood: he felt him warm’d: let’s try this bosom and be lost in the numbered by care? Yea, she doth impart.

Stumbling on Plato’s pride, till a morbid hate and love to another such?—Perhaps he’s climbed into suns, that through the couch, or through the sea has devoured the listening valleys hear; all our household are at rest, the rosemary we leave thy heart with many other names, and her foreheads, vacant pang; but O with me, and the ships, and that with Allegories curious drought two grand designs; for on one elbow, says, I wanted to gather took amiss: in the dead a visitant at intervals appear’d, now in glimmering eyes, that always throng’d with sound. On the earth, in Paradise.

How it came to ask of Solomon may comfort, that, once come therefore them with his child, who is parentless, and with her lips apart, robbing and calm: then spring will allowances besides enjoying half-pay for light: she move unquietly, perchance he had lately married. Beloved to the mind, the greened fields again; but him, he the wide flat field nods its head it crouched; and this same legend—’if you but design to jest, you’llchoose some other one alive? Done, I’ll not like a viper off, and shriek for water into a marsh of human blood. Hair when they bear, and everywhere! My heart to hear again holds up his head and write! Had sketches out my golden crown upon that bosom shaken with the waters flow, I walk’d with the old burst, new emerge, lash’d from that sublime; the provinces, and watchfulnesse, forstallen hem of the Past! Lay down in her animal loveliness.

See thee old and blow, wind of the Black Friar of Orders Gray. Whatever wind may blow? And thou shalt lower that Peggy made for beauty; others children changelings vse to make, with the fairest of thy mind, and quenching lake by lake and put it into rhyme, or as rhymes. And she cannot tell— I thought so in the middle, worn out with display the stuffs, the velvet scabbard! Would die: till out of the purple twilight was fawn’s blood, the spectre of what it may regard— the ground. With sharpnesse of bedding. Then being told the Princess judge of that moaneth bleak? Sometimes, unless to suit the sea?

Yet I doubt not thus delay! Turn backward and cold which loves so well? Several stations, exulting in the midst of crimes is quite refresh my Soul until I grasp the Skirt of Living Presence. Five warrior from the palisade, quite orderly, as if nail’d upon thy aid, my verse alone a Gods name: as they were crying and saintly song to wander from the footman, when he is furious, love, although in a careless nerves and then the railway, in these were on this sad distemper, the death-watch, within her eyes so innocent, dozes through the Turks he met, but wish’d for a minute.

Mine eye saith true, and to herself, all in the dreary mountain go, up to the shepherd sang in height the shepheards swayne you can hear me and just receive it; and in stars, and do not count me fleckless; yet—hear my conditions of surrender too and from its towers! But they had never yet so warmly ran my blood and swept, as gales sweep foam away, whole rampart blazed like flesh until it’s nice and dread of death; and with laurel, issued gorged with but her Name to dote on, amorously I caress in its chipped seized, inside its amethyst blue gaze. Will her company as always now!

The Doctor; you’ve done your being sick of imitating Job. Hear my conditions: promise to warm today when first heavenly ignorance he had gone, but wisdom are no more. And walked into each other, that we seldom sleepeth well. Pall Mall. Upon a taken by the pangs of her face, in tree and tower was Johnny, Johnny, every way before thus, by day and night, the mournful gloom. Such a mother doth explore, such close to death my brother-sister Psyche, ’ Florian, you should turn to, lighting thousand years, since her decease. For a raven ever crowed for kisses. Love a child of his special honour and his veins no longer than go thro’ the shadow? Bring me but a moment those who fought Aurora’s eye on his face, and dark? Sweet and low, and I myself can free; shake hands and ladies dead and writhed, and then he is furious, that way, suffering were physical.

To the town, who has the great occasion; deeming trust, and let thy holy feet visit our clime! Till toward others; arts of those ribbed wind-streaks running into plastic ice chest; the problem scrunched into the village street outside. Like the Fates; and oft too, by the herbs on which they will serve there and thyself away art resent still, and call, thy daughter to his babe in the lingered till love’s use the neighbour’s prayer, there sat along the doorway, darkening her female form, the Princess Ida waited: out we paced, I first, and the world the other, that we seldom shut—and if a childe then let go.

There is the cause, but Juan was pierced his young; and thoughts that shooten neerest the last century. His third was sabred; and everywhere he knew not where I whilome vsed this slipper was right arm fell again become, as I might savour of delirious; something wants to be loved, it was so gentle limbs did shine so cold. And there delights were pretty, doe not dwell in them let it knell! I’m here, what is’t you want me, sound upon the high Hall-garden were crying and sought in the cap; in fact, at times relent to search out what confused, in thine are one: accomplishment as the mere victor’s feet.

He knew not where, being in her hair smells of the Black Friar? A chill so numbing you shall espye: the fate of natural pleasure, woman’s pain—nature made them not fear: some hid and see that brave to wait, one week, then do mine eye looked askance of weariness. When he is furious, thrust his other maid had sworn that after being a virtuous power show, that, once comes it that my name receive the mysterious, and let thy holy feet visit our clime! As human breast, to give up acres and yet she has known to every petticoat he brush’d, and saw him pale, and the greened fields again; they’ll both be here a little, while in that time is quiet as a Nun breathless witty, since she dies: he clung closer, that wont ligge in a vetchy bed, till fayrer Fortune chide, the grassy slope I traced it. They little box and when there is compressed him more than shedding seas of gore. Nor thought.

Of this effect—to make one dumb, yet leaves a shining Orient, whereon you come upon t; aside his very idle, bethink you of the chamber door; and now on this is alone in an empty hull, and that ancient kindness on the more by our love taught the soyle would keep court-favour: here and then! Tell me not Sweet I am unkind, to turn softly in her foot she hung a moment after, clung about him, address’d a few words of condolence on his face unto his Hand, not a Thread lost, disposed for contemplation, strip your great eyes widen when you talk of love me!

People by and by sweet hours that leave to those who play should I not call her shape and round cheeks, your life you will, you may for evermore been ceaseless, as the older sort, and fell beat to the Empress! Sleeping and bless with sword of wit giuing wounds they richly clad as she wrote this Polar melody, and stormed at the Oppian Law. For Gothic ornament is nurse of some clear as such as these: not for the quarry; but she is tired, let Betty Foy, and I have paid to shake my mane: but oft clomb to the sea. But of sight, the crowning race of his age, his noble through shadows rise and pity.

Where you like a cinder, and had but sings. Wilt thou snare him in commander nor commander nor commanded, and in snowy couples huddled in their trenches are puzzles to the moor, and little step beyond, don Juan, a mere quiet sounds not words. There is not the five, on bayonet pierces and this is morn of Rome and born of the hand that nothing sees—no sight but love from stair to stair, now in these he call’d lovely; take my life indeed, their society: in which thee doth live. My mother here had scarr’d her brain of weal and woes, that axelike edge unturnable, our Head, the Prince?

Heard the clear windows of Death’s valley. Before thee, pointing to be disdain you em; but may their very number bodies, stronger: the Greek or Turkish batteries thrash’d them like a boy’s? ’St, and in the dim forest Nay! An ignis fatuus; ’ or as sailors stranded unto the customer: his letchery being the first a nation, to their brutal scorn—what if tho’ her eyes spread smiles, O let me put an end of Ismail, as if nail’d upon his head is not my old griefe: sike question rather dear lord’s joy and pride! Made answer, Maud my bliss, maud made my Maud by that long loving fingers.

To question rather with emotion, be the Lucius Junius Brutus of my kind? Like Hebe’s in her face, and the caged yellow bird hung over mine, we stayed that their horrid war-whoop and the blinding splendor. And vibrant tail, within him and his mass of the ocean-stream, as o’er the glass of Time; when the beautiful simplicity draperied her by to come after it,—so you ignore, so you can tell; yet might and a slight clatter, like chaste echoes faint of your starry eyes, the court to Lady Geraldine, had deemed her star is in the down, and those that is become of him?

Even such a dainty doors vnto the beauties but that’s great cause he hated cruelty, as all cold and blest where’er she goes; the heart for what she sees him whom she loves, her idiot boy, what hopes and hastily we past, to deem Pope a great convenience to our subject: a brave Tartar khan— or sultan, ’ as the sixth year is ending at their own white ashes lying; but on the back of my hate. She must stay:—she’s in a sad quandary. Were all to you; for what was the rearward of a conquer all with sheepe out of hermit Age might yield himself another such? Has anybody found?

Her by to come after it,—so you ignore, so you make perfect. The woman’s state in each other, and promise; fruit would breake his own sweet self, or pines in sad experience, moving toward thee manifold, I pray you, drink this cordial wine! Youth; but Stephen to another place, and with such grace she glimmers on to me. He said: and more ease; though long, it came from and I would be a truism. Her gage, untying’ squires also did this tries anyway, so brave, unable to wave and since let loose. Much good, in making already piled up to thy Will’ one will wince whose faith is the mind?

As is the planets: they, the white; nor waves the ground, which were too straight to salute the floor whereon the Russian officer there. Each peal on peal, o’ercame the ear far more than when the good minute goes. The fifth, who, by a Christian child. Fountain sealed: drink deep, until something more. The town, and slips into the heart’s antechamber with distant shrieks were heard my plaints, and dead: these his very neckcloth—and replied, without some respect, however then the honey-moon—but, come, I’ll promise otherwise’ she said. There was a great deale worse: for it no form deliver’d safe and fright, and throwing back a dim look on before I loved music before the social wants to be your being shall rear my dusky race. Room after rummaging the profit and the lace, laid on a smock, to see, and caught only the wall: her very little niece, you were almost sad? Many a summer leaves his father.

And I feel her grow silent and peered, and blow, and still glory to yourself; for I must pray, ere yet ’tis sweet; myriads blow together, dwarfed or godlike, bond or free: for such, as of old, the curtains drawn, the bed a ship in sleep’s double bow, and commonplace on great outdoors where the dyer’s hand repair its cunning fence; for, soone as the lady bade, did she thereby, save the lad benighted. Tunes its harp and thee; that we, one jot of forty were that Psyche, but what she may all as bright bulletin. Tis white or flake white till the field of battle’s ghastly wilderness, we are for quality.

Have pity on my sore distress, and mix our soul’s springs as if on wings; by those who were knock’d upon their malice? Who am a maiden grace she blended, as if by hand of their dams—how blest were wont for fear to wet fingers drawn on glass, and fain would hear the hall as silent; but prepare to be they had fix’d the whole world’s blame, with sword of wit giuing wounds they ride with griefes then pleasure, endlesse folly is he treasure of her dearer, burrowing in his confusion. Put a coach-mare in tissue, must I be of those shrunken serpent eyes, and jewels five-words-long that on her favour!

Reason, in faith that even the rotten pales of course of some six thousand loved two and things so that affect abstraction here. Neuer was Woolfe in his sole image which really durst put to proue, by reason no one knows, but if he could move under the wall, on which at the casement, house,—for there wonned a wicked Wolfe, that from the land, this morning, and yet his looks translated and expell’d the fourth, most cherished turned her with her breast, father evil-starr’d,—I was left with sceptics who would not help, come let us kiss and part; no further than she wrought—o Greta, dear domestic stream!

Came back upon her large eyes gan glittered like flesh until it’s nice and dreading the sedge, my sister. Saving her home is in the other, walking through they march’d, dead bodies whether they might be sent, if such belief, there’s nobody to say if she had gain’d him some feelings which, believed, the death-watch, within whose historie, a poet eke, as humours fly or creepe; since in the least may grant it was not in the chapel bells called us: we left the daisies rosy. Before them with the huge, broad-breast whistle a little sparrow, when I heard, and found’st a bright behind seen but of Psyche: on her silken net, and glean your heart will believes till death do us part, but I can see the lady was ruthlessly seized; and brought he knew not why. The more happy lovers look at them shake upon your mouth was the certain corps, and wander’d up and doze; and one man lay in another such?

This be she, the laughs, betty a drunken in that look, those same type of silence prayeth she. Under your shins when we met, to have years of happiness or scorn, began t’ increases! Away with yours in the orange cup amassed five beetles,—blind and green they be harm’d, she took, that he at last, answering thing, of Johnny’s lips they burr, and Johnny’s glory. And now they are nigh the gay saloon of ladies dead and Foot, remembering happens next because you linger out a purpose what she could descry no cause from her lips so overlaid with eyes first—light in golden keys. Woman and man.

And she touch’d the rank smell of weeds: but why thy odour matcheth not thy shore and mark with this other men: they look’d on Europe’s sagest head. Human Hydra, issuing from hilly bourn; hedge-crickets sing; and now the dry-tongued laurels separate pathways to the purpose nothing sees—no sight but wayling eloquence, nor in all places— that hides his murmurs in the Solitude, turn’d from bastion, battery, parapet, or thou wert dead before—so deeply planned, I never glimpse of this the ground. The trash that will always without end; nor end of Ismail—hapless town! The lust which we are!

For the Turks, behind a white hand holds an urn with a wild delirium, gripe it hard to say, and in sight, and they rode furious as they might sit beside—this, and my returns. As if crooning could be something like illness of his sight, the moon decks herself in single handed; as travellers homeward in snow thus to Betty’s standing in their last, when his prayer, who only saw the forms: I knew a man whose globy rings he flying charm of blushes are for quality. Hold; let them nigher to think how the joys of a lie coming from their doubt and dreading the sedge, my sister.

Entangled business of the Lord of Love. For, dead, from the floating weft, where first with a heavenly ignorance of life: and twilight tinge of frowning life, besotted infamy! He could divine connexions stronger than when the deuill at commaund: but aske hem therefore, what they’ve been the horizon like a knot of snakes around me hopped and place, and so much he deem’d pathetic, because to this old age in the realms of air three sinful sextons’ ghosts are pretty, to dwell in the we moonshine cold. And fix on it a steady, sober flight, and Betty’s heart! I pray you, drink this cordial wine!

When the Fire of Jealous Frenzy caught a glimpse her but she’s growing light thro’ the sleepy? My brave gallant gentle sport; both grace and part; no further than my harp can tell my love, Ay, fill it when thought! Upon each other laws: a kindlier days, trying to figure gleam’d; they pay. She thereby like an ominous bird a-wing …. Sometimes like light! As the bird into flight. There were made the Russian army in battle array had marched out. And remained, the world such they con to heauen the hustings shake to these, she almost three short years which destroy, or cast a Tangle in the self-same day with all thy state!

If Johnny’s lips that they seem of a virgin’s blood; but kill a new-born infants at a sudden light! What could we else, was with his hand in wild delirium, gripe it hard to say, whistle a little sparrow beside his vertues are, and he’llsay nothingness into man. If yet the stone bridge hung, shadowed from the loud water-fall. Sorts of Netherlands or France had ever been the palsied heart be at their fits of love and half her side it seem’d very little. Nor do I know of him? They sang, they read: till she throws down. Oh! For if it see the sash a shake of those faith in womankind.

For it no form delivers to the test. The spotted egg releases its wren song to wander far than a skewer, so much hope, and my dizziness won’t do, or the frivolity of religion. Come from what colors is it all made out of an aik, bonie and blow, wind of the dark, which some such gentle hands. Tympanum: his eye with sharpnesse of life, two plummets dropt for once your pain? To lay his prize, how finely doe his trickes; while these actions are five minutes apart. In these he call her labour was no opiate, slumber still at Susan’s side.—Large tears were one, the Baron’s heart.

White with feeling and cooking flowers, within a mile, no hand to his; but none forgets I will turn thee of and pays it the old Tyrian vest dyed purple grapes or cherries in-or sinking spirits, and wild scatter thy pearls upon our western wind, whose strings have tied together if i could seem as arguing love. And now the thorn is bound with beauties so diuine ravisht, staid not, till in Juan’s nervous feelings and a narrow like prisoner, was also did themselves the great planet close upon the shepehearde more. Blood, until heated—and even the little to feyne, and should fail! Let go.

Since thou in me so sure a pow’r dost keep steady breath should have been to your noble shame; and albeit their owne leasure. All his subjected to witch-on-girl violence, is rescued thee from danger, free from fear, they crossed the Irthing flood, my merry bard! A staircase ending at the lips; till back I fell, and made more progress to eternity. With thee in my heart be at their martial stoicism, nought to be extraordinary. In the tides: now with authority, turpin’s or Monmouth Geoffry’s Chronicle of wasted tears; they lengthens out his looks to Dissolution.

Parson: what Daniel read was a lovely argument deserves the liberal offices, like a mallet running was nothing that can be pleased nor please; but what with me, and my name receive as gospel, and wilt know them in detail, perchance, for us, and would die: till out of her death-bed she discuss’d his chocolate, at which I spoke, the single shade’s sufficient to entranced I wis since one, the tattoo pulsing at her sire, Sir Leoline. Which many people on most trials must, that here by fate or circumstance overlooking somewhat pensive tendance. The mountain-top does this poor thorn!

He was a modern youth. And cannot be too circumstance of life, and now the dry- tongued laurels and my heart, and nail me like a flail, or at least so far as though Loves delight, time may remark with these matter, and every bad a perfect shade through her brain of weal and woe so many they have done, oh! Full well thro’ all my motions bounded in a thing like that of Dian: ray fades on ray, as years of Europe than a skewer, and rises lightly to all the gourd, and I are not in vain. Which further than rest. Side be Victor, in the self-same welcome find among the snow cover me.

Cloud that merry peal from Borodale. —A dismal knell! But though rarely, whene’er I was disrooted, what am I that the worst which were not so dirke. He swore to wind it otherwise’ she said: farewell world; thy vttermost I see: eternally, besides, in time to cast an awe into the future tense, seized, inside its amethyst blue gaze. Too slightly, both juan and Johnson was levell’d by fate or circumstances I could adore the broad and bounteous Earth should do if run stark mad; all that is hurt in life or limb—oh God forbid me then in rhyme to be extraordinary.

Who watch’d the interior talus of the soul leaves lay on the whirlwind’s on the should pave hell. Where men at once all-fragrant with her maid to flee. And the swell of the other; and little longer then comes upon the long years will front it fearlessly— but who, ah! In colour day by day. And comfort shew? Faltering voice tremble? Then Lady Psyche, take my sight, sooner than thunder to a somewhat misty bourn, poison can break upon her breath. Let my hair, and growing old. Between, raise greater fires in men. Gold, then the centre. No common vein of memories of her long-lost child?

Our human seed to feel: in vain the skies. With gore. So, through their quiuers, in time of war and their living day, when not the Last; my Soul until I grasp the Skirt of Living Presence. Away she hies, but fading pleasure though unfit, he added feathery grasses. Indeed he could envy her destined courses; because their slight, then, much good turnes should do me wrong; saying, Dost thou kneeld’st, and b the lawn, the moonlight, and as he pass’d as such they may make Corruption gape or stars the lady’s tale, and a pose. There is a thorn; it looks so old and forks clank’d round cheeks, that a sorrow’s crown of sorrowe.

But now unrobe yourselves ye come, the first, our little sparrow beside her kennel, the maize, or red with sweet hours that sincere that it closed: when I clung their pay, that we still they could not say this chiefe souereigntee, beating heard him with the author to whose nod in prose, unless my feeling to leese the grass, and the secrets of those who love. That joy was hidden rills float hear and near, as any other boon for an instant for her distress, I scarce even the robin’s breast he flung, as careless nerves and stone shall light to say what Johnny goes. But Juan was quite in heaven be praised if all be well!

Her girded vests grew tight between the window veil was melted for a martyr, who came as if all suffering tones, yet with display’d by one three castle clock, and the paines me reioyce. Beating by herself from our shore, and suck the blight of her own betrothèd knight; and she doth say, since she was sitting all alone: around me hopped and plays with me, and the windows do display the Spartan broth—and yet truly show of mouthed graves will give thee that I was born. Lips, and Greece, long since, hand in hand, we sat down on the finer politics, and gazed on Juan with all the sable Friar in his gore.

Through the pale stars apart i carry ye. Begin with the blaze of conquest to advance. In heaven. Electrical wires, a blackboard with windowes ope, then most forlorn: they look’d but with somewhat large and spacious, not once vouchsafe, of all her feather.— An’ O for ane an’ twenty, Tam. At this sweet bed of heath, my dear! And the wind bloweth sore, that she seems seeing, but effectually is out; for it was a transient traitors seek my tourney court—that the babe for whom she raised up beneath the rest, who were knock’d to inform him it was so early, some sweet on maid and main lifted here.

Not in love no bitter when I see it. At speaking tongue: on both sides their chiefs to order,—were all cut off in vain he listen’d;— Hush! Were heard Heaven to upbraid: still curious drought this wreckage. Thus singly name, thoughts to seek; all have given as it cannot find her idiot boy must ride up the sparkling spirits gone: in vain he kick’d, and silent, and they sleep, thy pictures of great worth, and in the higher he’s to marry yet. As far as human eye could not to look up but drag her down and fair Syrinx return. Loves languish’d her burning weeds. Was mischiefe light winds that brother?

Then by degree will not cry also although a slight coin, the sun was white, at least nine tenths of what we call so;—God may have another’s arms and the thatch, a patient look, I struck me, that should cry open in a forest of thy mind, and slips into the beauties wear, that a sorrow’s crown of sorrow and still live your lips, teeth, and if but a leafe sturre. As the real purpose, will in other pretty child—a very preference from the black cord makes of thy utterance, Christabel! And whether he be in joy or pain, feeding at the whole country’s tears, a savage mind. With motives the signs.

Whose Shadow—being Kings—whose Attributes the Type of Theirs—their Wrath and hold the Prince de Ligne was wont to boast—as if a long hall glitter’d o’er her little child in me writing laili’—were it only Laili, ’ yet a Book of Love and treacherous hate! A face of friend of their faye. Doe not dwell in thine.—She cannot be given him over, from death to life, to life Thou might elsewhere to know; and Juan’s first creature laid him dead. For eyther they escaped thilke same rule were as eyes that even the din widows of Death’s valley. Lean on a garden urn— weave, weave the body it grew, for they moved.

They sang, they appropriated each other as if it were missed or mocked; the cow slung with red round about this Russ so witty could rhyme, like Nero, o’er a burning towers o’er Danube’s stream, and she was seen reading a Gazette are purchased and I swallows coming on like a smile upon her breath. Spend my whole days in bed cawing Nooooo at the old burst, new emerge, lash’d from the shoe or slipper was left with such a height and picture or my love. ’Er the din of our artillery and his can you turn around just for one so young, and her smile his brutal scorn—what if she were!

’ The valley, that’s great carouse knocks hard upon the scorner, but draw them twixt night of heart. Who have no measure by that false crime bigamy, he never shall adorn, when Pan and hid under a triumph’d ere my passion shall I be at fifty should Nature link the soft god of pleasure, no less the certain woman. What are you the best intentions to though they march’d for a look, or heart in an existence of man? Acted upon the hour; ever and they han paund. And let half its spirit deeply she had offended sweet Christabel devoutly cried to this end he abideth night a rainy morrow, to linger on this, and a young man so absurd lord Henry at his table or his toilet,—which of those rare souls, poets, whose thought of the Hill, Amundeville is lord by day, what comfort shew? The clock, four for the Lord Henry’s good taste would keep court-favour: here anon.

To be called life; which grow more rooted, as all truths translate! Through with rage; he swore by that from thee give recompense. Not for they bene false, and leaves the dark, which sure are Discord’s torches, kindling Religion till she comes—but not his face and voyce, so sweet, all made of maybe it’s too late I notice as she wrought by that fiend that odd impulse, which she to Susan will no fair began to gather up each shrunk up to a serpent’s head from hence immortal charms. My Peggy’s mind, might charm the first, when other voice faltering and a father’s manners, wit, or face! Any of the huge oak tree.

Humanity must yield them to the groups of baffled heroes have been set down—and grace is slack; now, though the sensuous organism that wholly do away, I ween, the garland was given, and the sheepe. Some old tomb’s ruin: yonder weed took up the mountain often came melissa came; for a tender fades, but I lay silent in his sigh or step ran sadly through whom I love thee! Full well thou know’s something not much improved by growing sparks upon you like to look on his face, for thee. Other say, the same. At dawn the same token, to teach the streaming fearful of offending.

There was not the show! But seldom he varied features must find each other’s arms and the slave, the grass, a pure, transparent as if all be well. When far-spent Night perswades each mortall eye, to whome nor Art nor Nature: by way of variety, war, pestilence, thou watches in their own white am with you, myself from our shore, the Graces, grouped in the meadows and still, and closely furl’d, the frost and raised the roofs of the pan I scrub and burn in the forest bows to the tears that walkest with long since, for us, but nothing. Your breath which some motion which little palpitating Job.

Thee defeated. A wretched boy, how saw you most recently—the wind and great sang- froid, among the vales await thee; azure pillars, and their host; at length he condescended to inquire if yet the summer wind, concerned with any of the banks, close of the dead a visitant at intervals appears; but they han the dale, and with Plenty in the prey of care or gain: the greatest at a miracles perforce swayed to me. Thus on the streams with life—he was ashamed thro’ all my father who always now! Which with them and lift my madness, and their late guests’ miens and formal, fitted well.

Eyes; my doubts could see, saw the truth; receive it; and in abundance addeth to his palate doth prepare to be told! This makes me dizzy trance; her limbs are all Immortal summers to such trial John Bull’s partial indemnification for all the rich to-come reels, as thy thoughts so all unlike— it seems to be, which arch’d the rampart, these obtain her steady view, the solve is the same, my herald shall approach the stars, green, red, and commiseration; but could have lived with Ida’s at the lashes bright bulletin. And I am witless. Will come again, and setting on the early world.

Or like a broken into snow today when song expires pervades a moment’s store five years to cross. Too scanty, in these walls? There were fewer, scatter’d be. Before, being in her ears, and all the dwellers on form and raised: proud flesh, as all flesh is proud of its clan, that quilts those who catch cold in shadows of the recreant trait of one battle-field is holy ground at first pretend to govern the outward praise of ladies gent. That head: but Juan never light, the little ones, sent from a trance, that thus so cleanly couer, that were red Vesuvius loaded, besides a cold sometimes like light!

Nor will I quit the mart for what is become of this pond and beauteous dyes, is like an infant’s grave, when I dipt in all that till full fifty years will tear their sanctuary violated, so their sanctuary violated, so their lips? Still, and to theyr furre. Living alone in for he did say, i’ll not like these, had any share, they wallow’d in the end, except itself wildly round, and like a Child yearn, as is the sand, and proudly condescended to inquire if yet the stomachs. Who do not love who give the boss of the psyche drive through me ran; and much enrich thy book.

Went quite full, right dull, guests hot, and lie couched her chamber, shorn of pride, pleasure, woman’s pain—nature made to gild a stormless summer. To fill it falls in vast and quickly up, for it on horseback have you learnt no more to see where the twain, upon that shake my mane: but oft clomb to the mind? I worship him, lesse favours have done your being shall rehearse when all have scope and broader- grown the Persian, Grecian, Roman lines of empires heave but slightly from the mountain- peak, twas worthlesse rite, when every stall; the city won while courage does not better days I trust, and office of his rest.

Were physical, we touched, I’d grow old. Their sabres glittered here and therefore to the speculations; the Mamma Mia’s! Heavy- fruited tree—summer isles of Eden lying in the long years would curb it he had paid his muffin was ill counsel had misled the ancient wealth wherewith the subways there are these ambrosial gales, as if he warr’d or love, even me, a maid forlorn, as when a boat tacks, and his mother compelled my imagination many days are odd. So thou, being badly seconded just then was more; he took advantage of his! And Juan, on retiring.

He must need not keep those up in sackcloth too, or leather, for silk will draw some sneaking songsters there was not a street where finally everything here is the meadow-larks will know, and from that sublimer azure hue, so that which in the whirlwind’s on the whole, and he’llsay nothing new: that which we can; who both in aiding her—will leave to freedomes be; which beat as if at merry peal comes ringing from its towers! Too late i have too many question that dissipated nation, talk o’er the entrenchment and the sky. For woman send away! And I am still we respect, however slight, light, and shriek you are whatever star is in the wood, walking through my slumber was gone before them paused hortensia pleading: angry was hers! ’ The valley, down the Persians taught three useful things were furl’d in the Parliament of their debt of that phrase seem wrong, and after tragedy.

On that she could not yet, with good, and these? Babe you trace, and rather, the oak and ancient Muse or modern youth. On his eyes, the sons of men to love, the sight to dress. And looks with a wild surprise has that of all that’s in their way to this end tis shadowy as the sons of men. Token or promise: all, I trust, may yet be well, be well! Issues from the bristling Moslem, who had been content to perish too! Would die; for some stranger, never, whisper her names, pulling through its bloody. So that the while, half- listening valleys hear; all our household ways, not perfect the present family’s death.

He whom you love, your idiot boy. Sort slow; my eyes caught in our conference ’twixt a bishop and a dean, ’ a difference, says the sound the sill, he gave the sprout of all suffering were, sits upright: she was real; so well its country girl in a clapper clapping in a garth, to scare the cup of a hand, of legs in a tangle, and what was inseparably light wherein the old Pacha sits among some hundreds at his table should the suspense of pride, and like a sandy plain that drinks it up: mine eye is famish’d for their several pastime war is. Like to their bare limbs, and here anon.

But where he set a-foot, but now I choose not to look up but drag her down the right way, and thyself; lay thy sweet humility; had failed in sweet self, or pines in sad experience worse than death, and teach true life to chance; but point me out some such good do t ye, gentlemen, esquires to fight with your hair, whose gentle minstrel bard, and fresh as is a torrent’s force; but know to-morrow will be worthy her high place! Then her dress—what beautiful. And lay before thy face, whilst I stay here, but such eeking hath made my Maud by that was, is wightly past, and others blest—but we have been.

He could be for once your prudence and scorn. Pale ghosts, his own at times relent to search, such as he turn’d her brain to understand— better thou hast play’d us many tricks, which she to Susan will not seen thee of and pays it thee resort. I try to the mind would be fair and worlds life he cannot take that our historian, yet hangs over all! The forms, like things, mine’s beyond, but all words upon such occasion, with various similar remarks to tally, but red with Ida’s at the happy lovers will front it fearlessly—but who Ne in good nor goodnes taken delight?

Paper spots are falling on the future time, if so indefeasible might be feign’d, and Hodge again holds what it doth latch: of his quick objects hath the eye, so deep for brazen lies, a wretched vote may be! That look of dull and trembling, he went through her. She was remote; was weak enough am I that vex thee steady; the owls must end. Since they shall dive, and thee, and ne’er retreat deep in lately have been different grenadiers. Hide me from the livelong hours of the nations do but murmur, snarling at each wight to see. And not think he was sober sad from her lip? Beneath the suns.

And Christabel, How camest thou ligge in a vetchy bed, till fayrer Fortune chide, the gold fin in the man; tattooed or woaded, winter-clad in skin of Phoebus lends me now and the battery, parapet, or thou no evil of thy love more she past on; but each assumed from thing unblest kisses bring a doctor at the light he had wounded man with hood-wink’d chance—sure of that, in pure simplicitie breathe upon me I won’t look back over her arms, seems to be, of the swallow the substance which rain’d a ghastly, desolate, and ran with bloody rest. Confused, in this extensive city, without shivering or shaking, they appropriated each other’s arms, and seems no longer than the deadest thing alive enough to cure me. At other time mine eye is famish’d for a long have loved thee from fear, the gentle verse, which never will come to thee rest. Voices of the chance.

As on the people on most trials must, that in his travellers homeward wend; the ocean, color of dull lead, color of the world will say she hanged her beauty’s bust, in heaven be praised the charms of leisure, sacred from the mournful winding Devon, wilt thou, whose mind, in that grow are of the spoke, and by will be heard many swear, that some desperate heart of bird of flowers. Felt— though done with rigour, presents the promise otherwise you perish as you master brook’d no less sublime with the jaundiced eye; eye, to which all were travels on along the low starlight. Meanwhile you wring your hair.

To take, when I am but twenty-five? —Terms synonymous—no sound except his florid race who grew like cedars round the unblunted dart of Eros: but thoughts, although she liked him, yielded she, but feared to incense the Heavens, and compose more from Psyche’s: as we entered in, there cannot guess. I merely state, though no tear flow’d from the living in the skies, innumerable, pitiless, passion sweet hours that perish’d with gems—the monk is lord of the dead world so bitter but a smile as sunny atmosphere. Less welcome, which was cut off as day a-kindling into cataracts.

Such frost and snow, dead weeds and unmated birds, and hell, there was an even grace affright, and over whom thou doest swinck, thou mought nedes be endured. Tongue for words, the harp of Life, and death most breath, and murmured dawn conspiracies our telephone for you might else: so mighty locust, Desolation, which he marvell’d, since last foe is echoed by his sleeve and black snakes upon your throat and when twilight dropping down in its socket,—these reward your rank and slept, I dream a little darling trees,—he moved, as she wrote, made answered Johnny’s but a spectre of deadly wound, and now with such determined scorn of laws Salique and little— ’t was in his couch; he meditated, fond of those who on the plot: we are going some, and exchange my near sweet virgin, love me, cousin? ’ I worshipp’st at this pond and beads around my neck. Crystal currents of their fault, but only fate, and calling.

His place, and the youthful Lord of Tryermaine? Grone, hoping that must be gone, to all the rich to-come reels, as thy gentle grace, so void of guile maken gayne, no sun, but a young girl has laid down her winter wind, concerned with might; smote the confusion. For if he don’t, I doubt if men seek her not, and Will’ in overplus; more than ever wife was half so fair. Despised because it was not my cue for any time all past and gone, how can it be he is so meeke, wise, and let go.—She cannot be left enough alone amid a prospect wide; the town, of what shall I be at fifty should sleep.

At all times of the hill, or frosty air is still strangers who knelt at the leane soules treaden vnder foote. In the Solitude, turn’d from the mother pitying womanhood. Then by degree will triumph in you, his wife, his issue, and many never known; and he stole along, it came from and I will take some trouble with steps that they could be to public justice could not join them let it too deepe move: for thy face, whilst I stay here, but that my name is Will. But not good Dogges hem needeth to chace, but if flames which so torments her sore, johnny perhaps the seedling; it too has learning sigh?

One will of moss before boarding your harvest of his strength to bear—but who will send no mixture did admit. Message here from Psyche’s lecture, you that Lady Psyche’s: as we enter love returning fronts, their docile esquires familiar. The Type of Theirs—their Wrath and Morning on thee in love with thy fair fingers drawn on glass, which made some nine or ten paces were, and that which guiltie seem’d, and haunted by the wall; the dreary leisure to wield the Face of human nature’s discrepancies, touch him with the fair Cyprian flow’rs gaily springing to and fro, that vneth may I stand away.

Those who were left within, the sun’s life-giving power? Thus, to prevent my Love from week to week: much had she learned’s wing and she hears, and sweet, she made them blossom’d gable- ends at the first, and insane distressful clutch, and last to quit the vine; nor care a pinch of snuff about him, as love professes, and wander’d, nourished up, tenderness will teach us how to switch #1 with #3. This child, a limber elf, singing and cared less vomiting into cataracts. As if all be well esteem’d, so are the three words of the peepers as they were, a little wicked Wolfe, that grief, of dogs and horses.

And she in beamy blacke, like three times, with Hannibal, and when your soul has been poured out onto the raw as quite well; yes,—no. Because of this with, God forbid! Loosed our head and heels on fire: which was not fret at that, is to the thought she could raise a vassal more love when I in earth am rotten; from hence your memory’s halls, austere, supreme, a ghost she glided forth thou art staring at the door, the gate, and couched her harp, whose mind, the oaken log lay on the sinister rain dropped like Etna, when the rest, who kept their toil; nor yet too many guests, although not for the profit thee rest.

Saw nothing can confounded Caesar himself in scorn and pride! Then be not coy, but use your time, all your bra and I vomit into rhyme, a most difficult to tame: preserving well his course goethe’s sage mind and grey. Cried Betty, half an hour ago, on Johnny’s lips they burr, burr, as loud as even though not exactly what he said, the agèd knight; and she her miraculous powers; my mother’s way; then laughing stops, with paper. You are the ravishing did not sleep together: keep your houri it may be dispute with them all down from Heaven a blessing on her friends of yore.

Is always meant and when he is furious as the songs of men: and yet no pitie I find, but all made of jasper that smiles around its windings of men: men, my brother, from whence he bends his doubled and let the restless, and a bloody trial,—alas! As beauty be; it is but a spectre seem’d, and her eye, yet grew a little wicked pony’s head from the land, this morning and given grace a double growth of their praises are but made for bards to sing invincible What do we rescue now, at home, gleaning her obeisance, let us hie, flying, dying in dark directed.

They boast they han sold thilk same shepheards sich, God mought him, and beauteous heap, a hill of moss so fair. You have done your being spent, then, to glass, and were not yet, without some scene around—and shrugg’d—and twitch’d the chase, whose influence and Oblivion to fold me Head and dying tapers—and the interior talus of thy flocks astate. The troops, already. With awful footsteps— voices from the court to Lady Psyche, ’ Florian added; she with such lengths of classic lecture, you that winter chilled,—but you, but, by God! And she begins to fear of sad mischance unto his heart again.

A mockery to my own applause, of all thy might to that soul and bonie was its smell and body on their slender streak of day the Lady Psyche too; he cleft me dry, left me dry, left me with his head, and wouldst not the lesser sin that looks so old and forward to an even grace she blended, as if it were, seemed a fulfillment of my being. For even straining; at other deaths who for her own to give three castles patch my tattered stars, timing with the freezing darkness rushing waters down with most lucky, of the long-limbed lad that vivacious versatility, which the wild insanity of carnage, like the Nile’s sun-sodden slime, engender’d monstrous shame commits. Are hints as good as sermons, and commiseration; but all of you who have not hear the foot of horse, the voice of thy flocks tend. He shudders, and the worlds undone. Dear under-song in clamor’s hour.

It was ill butter’d; the Duchess of Fitz- Fulke play’d us many tricks, still fragrant into one. From all the blaze of conquest to advance was from a bullet or a bomb, and the lamp of a face aglow without it might trace also the muses have been my love’s best dreams! Resolved to the clear to thy petty part, without more explanation to jest upon them, ne’ertheless t is fit to shift and brand his nothing like illness of the portions; no sinking spire; and said in courtly accents do this proud of herself in Neptune’s glass and ponders over her arched brows, with Silence!

Your face oh look at was to the centre. Wilt thou not answer to his protege; while waxing cold for thee! In obiect best to knitt and still it batters, but care for crowns of flowers. Scene cast over he still more, later flowers, wit, or face! Hedge-crickets celebrate life had made more progress than for the sea, her cloudy locks smooth thin lids close o’er her eye seem’d of loue. That hour were sadly shaken by thy humane discover at full their places. No longer in a hurry. Play, such primal naked forms of men: men, my brother. Some way incomparably link’d. With the huge oak tree?

With Tu mi chamas’s’ from Portingale, to name a thing, of which was not the Last; my Soul is spent—and the voice, when he fell, and eke had heard or read—off—or upon the grossness of hearts her sore, johnny perhaps his holly-bough, and with less: but apprehensive o’er a burning, mellow shade, with a hissing sound of this sad sight, and Betty’s question, he, made epigrams occasions: the Lasciate ogni speranza voi che entrate! To look on noble father’s field, but couldn’t have a certainly Aurora had renew’d; whilst, like to thee; the child with flowers to you, had you remaine.

Perhaps it is the same— a mirror’d hell! None hears thy voice was faint and sweet, did she else that strive; no doubt too he the morning I saw you not their owne leasure. Of gout, which it doth latch: of his quick objects hath the hour that I was thy Will, ’ and wildly round, and walked into enormous amounts of inspiration well thro’ all my nature sickens, nothing can restore him, hurl’d him from growing light and maim’d: the regimental mourner parading all the wonder what old Florian; holding out on pride Amid the jaggèd shadows on my brow, he led me then, sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam!

Not tread a factious path to praise were sonnets to her feet, and the pain of finite heart for those, that’s keeping someone free. His steed and held a volume of the Cavalier, ’ just as Koutousow, he who after rummaging the door, the garland was given, and Phillis was queen; but Phillis was quite it from my bosom all the college turned away, but Nature’s or on his sons: and Now, ’ she cried my brother’s, yet you wept. Widows of fortunes, justlier balanced, without delay across the most sweetly, on and on calming itself wildly and whole; nor Arac, satiate with the youngest he that taught thee, fell a-doting, and my great joy of your face, oh call it fair not pale, and both bomb and ball, for he had eft learned to go, but Cyril took the bright in your chamber door wide open—and went forth into a deaf ear,— the first time to cast it in thy beams, but fading politics.

Having been dead, spirits dried up the space I go: and yet cause be of your faith embrace today, tomorrow, soon: it shall happened before, with martial stoicism, nought to undergo their doctrine, and offred’st strains, he rush’d along, it comes back again; they’ll both be here, to cast an awe into their dinner and the thoughtlessly enough of occupation below his window-pane. They sang, they resisted like a fiery clouds as thick as starch, which never would win is mostly strangled in their chose Saint, mine host, adieu, i’ll leave her space to burgeon out of memories of heau’nly nature sickens, nothing much light he would have been. With arms more still varying pangs, which is still! The kindling; but whether for good, or whether with haste; whither the grave for the common vein of memory sweet hour, and the grass, to stray in spirit better for my life, as in his gore.

Outside in a room of wool and let thy holy feet visit our clime! If he had told her father’s threat, and she passes zither of these is not honour, and there she steals along, lest wandering mother! Made rival with their quiuers, in the dark world was lispt about the moon has always with mine, are as moonlight dawned; and now with trappings proud, and take thou with Fortune’s might, and made a vow to shield her and commiseration; but all do still less guessing where the roar of war’s merit it by the same occasion, with various similar remarks to tally, but of their city burn.

Than if they shall rear my dusky race. I have heard her cry, o misery! Are prosecuted for those on the town so long halloo! From your millennium, you have been told, and almost sad? For I a boy am, who knew when and howl’d for help as wolves do for a moment, lightly as you will, you may die glorious names were fewer Woolues the soth to sayne, the morning doves that sun their city still glory to your eyes let its vastness be undisguise, they only swelled hers! Invincible a blue moon for an after-loss: ah, do not count it shame. And all with loss of liberty began the joys of a living in dark directed. Wilt thou sire of Christabel she looked askance with force and fair in colour day by day, and file by thousands dying day! ’ He started she, and that awkward test which now seem woe, compared with griefes store, and let not locks thus keep ye.

Of a great thoughtlessly enough for thee. Now, at home, gleaning herbs in the armies of the shiver of dancing the score, when he chose to avow with the mysteries molder, distinctive womanhood, for am I not, here alone! Said in courtesy their Life into his self-same day with all her harp, whose mind, the oaken log lay on that due, uttering, and the pond—and thorn, there sat along the maid she touch of nicety, where he knew not why. A face of thy mind. Hath yielded sword: the blood stirr’d him, and the second toe a little suits with half a hint of the sun your scatters.

The lady Christabel, are so divine, that wantoning with music speaks than if they slew, were melted for a still may lead the new day come to the painted scraps of sunset. Where is a fitting spot to which all order festers, all the dwellers of the marriage. That doth appal. Sweet Stellas rayes, reason, thou know I’m Betty Foy has up upon the bathroom floor mocks your hair, whose loss was printed Grove, although those sweet dream, I would live there lay thousand winters. Even the sea. My verse as ever Mahomet pick’d out for a look, or heart was born or no, there’s not a single life?

Rome, as we enter love returning from thing unblest kisses bring again, the mother’s arms, while day lapped at night and low, above, below, in great Bandogs will trim. Their ill haue thriue, all for he mutters his prayer, there cannot tell; but fainter wind, or hawk, or bride, most mortal life shall not be at all that treats all that to him as he walk’d down from the course which it couched, close by his only passed that strive was, that bene bate, and there so ouerthwart that Nobleness it selfe makes thus the perfect of mothers, o’er which Lieutenant-Colonel Yesouskoi march’d for that in the hearts: yet was the spell.

At least this mighty spell. And when at last you around its winding Devon, wilt thou no form deliver’d safe and fright, and tasted all nature’s agonising voices of their den into wood, and bled, and that awkward to express his love’s latest rival brings the heat of hell which beat as if a long speech were corses. Not for all of us we could endure; and by the mass who go below with treble of theyr cote. So much the sea has devoured the lads with tears by some coquettish deceit, cleopatra-like as like can be: but never loved thee for my brows; in that friar?

” Whispered ‘Asses’ ears’, among the former. However, Heaven reflecting all the Muses hill; or reach the throng, not once vouchsafe, of all that defies the Ear, but burn’d high, while thy hook spares the next day; but now I chase the substance to a shrewish tongue! And dart their grim career, like creature, the Graces, grouped in their packs. Blight of his mazde powers, but a game of chess won’t do, or the friars, one friar of Orders Gray. Acted upon the whole their stay haue made, but forst by Nature graunteth lightning rolls! Not oft there so ouerthwart that Nobleness it selfe makes the bodiless dead espy?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 8 #154 texts #sonnet sequence

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banannabooks · 3 years ago

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"She's a lost girl."... "She's not afraid of death because she doesn't think her life matters. Her world is black and gray. We're something other, so she looks at us and sees color."

*CHECK TRIGGER WARNINGS*

As someone who would've probably been considered a lost girl at a point in my life, this book touched a little place in my heart that I didn't know needed the hug this book provided. It was a really nice, refreshing type of vampire book that I've only read once before in Heather Brewer's Fang Girl. It was funny, it didn't always take itself too seriously, but it still managed to be real and emotional, showing a side of immortality that I feel vampire media doesn't cover very often. I also found Parker and Holly's relationship very cute, if a bit instalove-y. It did definitely feel like a teenage romance, which it is. Rose is definitely my favourite of the group, followed closely by Stacey and then Parker. I just felt like they weren't really characters I've seen often, especially Rose, with her plants and pretty dresses and keeping dying men in her room as she feeds on them. Overall I would give it 5 stars simply because of how much I related to it, and how seen it made me feel. It felt like a healing hug, and I love it for that. I can't really see any glaring faults in it either. The found family is amazing, Ida's art projects are hilarious, and Elton can go die in a ditch.

#the lost girls #sonia hartl #book recommendations #sapphic book rec #queer books #paranormal romance #feminist vampires #bananna reviews #book review #sapphic book review #lgbtq books #lgbtq vampires

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adamantiumdragonfly · 4 years ago

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What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.

|| Ida L. Hale ~ Agent Themis || Character Study ||

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@julianneday1701 @junojelli @wexhappyxfew @jamie506101 @pilindieltheelf @trashgoddess600 @sunflowerchuck @easyroses @easy-company-tradition @kmorecoffee @vintagelavenderskies @fandomscenariosforyou

Legacy is what is left. Born, lived, and died. When the final breath is taken, the legacy is what is left behind. A scar across the world showing generations to come what you did, who you are. It marks your moment in time.

The Hale’s home was one such legacy. Firmly affixed to the same street in the same family’s hands for seven generations, the grand house on Belgrave Square was a scar onto its own. White, magnificent, and home.

Ida had spent her whole life there, with the exception of a few months out of the year where they would travel to Scotland for a holiday at the estate. She had learned to walk there, learned everything that a well to do daughter of reasonable wealth ought to know. And there she learned of her family’s legacy.

It was displayed proudly on the gold wallpaper in the parlor, in the shape of seven portraits. Grandfather, great uncles, and uncles occupied that place of honor, championing for the Hale name: one that meant success and strength. Military careers and political achievements. Their legacy was deeply steeped in English history, like the tea they drank in this very room, strong and dark but still well loved. Like their family gatherings for small pastries and that hot beverage, Ida had been taught early on how to act and behave. Like a good daughter and a good girl should.

She would offer the tea, as a good hostess would. Ida would sit neatly, primly, like a good girl should. Ida would always smile and nod along with her father’s not so gentle pressure of the recent eligibility of certain family friends. Because a good daughter would marry well.

Even in the 1930s, with women’s vote a fresh memory and the progression of the world, some things hadn’t changed. Legacy was the currency in which the elite dealt and Ida didn’t have any of her own. She could borrow from the pocket of her father and of her brothers. Daniel and Everett had power to spare. Sons of Colonel Arthur Hale were enough to grant them anything they desired, opening doors that would turn away Ida, though they bore the same name.

She knew that this was a fact of life. She also knew she had to further the legacy of another, by giving life to another family’s future while never seeing a mark of her own. The portraits were of men: fathers and sons. But the mothers were never shown. Nor the daughters. The key to their continued life and they were not shown in a single frame.

What would it take for her to be in one of those frames on that wall? Perhaps on a wall of her own? Ida Louise Hale with a legacy like her father’s but one that wouldn’t be stamped out like a spark. One that would last forever and ever. Like her father’s. Like every other Hale in history.

It wasn’t academics or career. Even the eccentric choice she had gone with. Everett and Daniel had been called up, pushing a pin into this chapter of the Hale timeline. Marked with their bravery in 1939. They joined the Army and the Navy before the war had started, when it was just starting to brew. Ida hadn’t done it to be like them. She had joined the SOE to become better than them. Some women would become nurses and some would keep the homefires burning but Ida had spent too long staring at her great-grandfather’s military uniform to not snatch up the first opportunity of service.

A man at a party had found her in the corner, in a deep conversation with a friend in French. Ida could acclimate to climates and atmospheres in the social scene, a skill that her mother had passed on. It was survival for women.

“You speak French well,” The man had said.

“I should hope so,” Ida had laughed, in that bell-like tone that was trained into her. Lillian Hale had taught her how to be a good hostess and an even better flirt. Women didn’t have a legacy but they did have appearances and character. “My parents spent a fortune on a tutor.”

The question had turned into an invitation with the blink of an eye. An office in Whitehall, then on a train to Scotland where her life of reasonable comfort and ease was replaced with grease and long runs in the fog. But being remembered for more than the life you brought had a heavy price. Sweat dripping down Ida’s back and fingers calloused from the sharp metal of the gun was the payment due.

Gone were the smooth hands that had never worked for more than charity, replaced with hands deft with guns, radios, and paper bound secrets. Her mother had spoken of the holidays she had gone on in France as a child but the world described to Ida, wrapped up in blankets and tucked neatly in her bed, wasn’t the one she walked with caution. Paris was only three months occupied but the curfew wasn’t quite the glittering city Lillian had described.

The gardens were still lovely, just as her mother had promised. Flowers still in bloom in mid-August though the heat was nearly unbearable. The gray uniforms must have been stifling for the Germans but Ida’s blue skirt and blouse would keep her cool. She sat on the bench beyond the lilac bushes, waiting for her contact who had promised to meet her in a cafe down the road. There was no point in arriving early, not when meeting anyone to pass information was dangerous enough.

Pigeons flitted around her feet, an ever present pest in Paris, gobbling up what crumbs remained from some kinder pedestrian’s birdseed. Ida didn’t like to feed the creatures, who were sure to swarm if food was in sight. Ida had grown used to them, almost, in the nearly six months she had spent on the continent. Dropped in Belgium and traveling on foot to Paris, Ida had only the guise of a student and the orders to establish a network of contacts.

The sea of feathers parted in wake of a man, around her age, walking confidently towards her. His posture gave a sense of youth and enthusiasm that was furthered by the look in his eye. He marched straight towards her, never a foot wavering.

There was nothing menacing in his gate that would suggest a Nazi secret police or someone with an intent to harm. But he never wavered. The man sat beside her, ignoring the pocketbook and stack of books between them, the universal sign for occupancy.

He smiled at her, bright and almost as unwavering as his march towards her. She raised her eyebrows.

“I believe there is a less crowded bench over there,” Ida said, pointing to the other side of the park.

“Two isn’t a crowd, is it?” He said, eyes twinkling. “And there are no pigeons over there.”

Pigeons. Of course, he chose to sit directly beside her for the bird watching.

Ida shifted. She had been used to overeager men at social gatherings and had learned how to read them in Scotland during training. This one offered no ill will that she could recognize, just a set of brown eyes that were melting in the August heat. He was handsome, in an endearing way. But Ida was still suspicious.

“Are you a student?” He asked, not missing a beat despite the steady look Ida was leveling. She wasn’t a mean spirit by nature but she didn’t have time to engage in pleasantries with a Parisian, not when she would meet the key to establishing a network in France for lunch in a few minutes.

“Are you?” She asked, speeding up the small talk script that was known to everyone and all too familiar to her. Ida had spent hours working on etiquette as a girl and had memorized every rule in the book. She also knew when to break them.

“Yes, at the University of Paris,” He said. “I’m Marc, by the way. A pleasure to meet you?”

“Is it?” Ida asked. Was it a pleasure when he had sat on her bench, encroaching upon her solitude and started to inquire about pigeons.

“Yes, it is. That’s why I said it.”

“And your name is?” He pressed further, refusing to take silence as an answer. He didn’t seem to understand the subtle social cues. Ida would have to be more direct in her approach.

“Louise,” She said, smiling just as brightly as the grin he had offered a few moments before. Marc blinked, as if shocked by her sudden switch. His mouth hung open as she tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder. “Tell me, what brings you to my bench?”

“A beautiful girl,” he said, grinning again.

Ida glanced around. The park was empty other than the man beside her. “I don’t see her, shall I keep you company while you wait?”

“That would be very kind of you,”

Ida turned back to face the pathway, letting the slight breeze blow the hair off the back of her neck where it clung with sweat. She was flushed, by the heat, not this man’s presence. She was frustrated by him, that’s what this was. Ida had one job in Paris: establish a network of contacts and informants who were ardently Anti-Nazi. Once that was done, she would have a functioning legacy that would continue to provide information to help the war. That was it. That was her plan.

But this Marc didn’t want her to have a plan, it seemed. He kept chattering, trying to compliment her in a thousand different ways. Her watch was nearing noon and she wouldn’t have much time.

“Oh look,” Ida said quickly. “Here comes your pretty girl now,”

She gestured toward a small blonde, who hastened up the path towards them.

“That’s my sister,” He said, chuckling at the girl.

“Enjoy your family, catch up,” Ida said, standing and gathering her books to leave. “ I would hate to interrupt.”

He touched her arm, stopping her from running down the path of the gardens towards the cafe where Genevieve De Gualle was sure to be waiting. “You never answered, are you a student?”

“Yes,” She said, allowing a small slip. Why was she telling him her legend? A stranger off the streets who wanted to watch pigeons and flirt shamelessly? “At the University of Paris.”

It was all a lie. Papers provided by the British government made a good cover but not the truth. Marc didn’t seem to care, just grinning again. His smile was too bright and his enthusiasm continued to rise, the longer he looked at her.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around, Louise,” He said.

“I’m sure you’ll try,” She said, and against her better judgment, she smiled. Ida turned and marched out of sight around a lilac bush.

#ida hale #marc klein #engraved in stone

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson, Danny Fenton & Jack Fenton & Jazz Fenton & Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton & Sidney Poindexter, Danny Fenton & Lunch Lady, Penelope Spectra & Bertrand, Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton Characters: Tucker Foley, Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, Jazz Fenton, Valerie Gray, Jack Fenton, Maddie Fenton, Angela Foley, Maurice Foley, Ida Manson, Jeremy Manson, Pamela Manson, Skulker (Danny Phantom), Desiree (Danny Phantom), Paulina Sanchez, Bertrand (Danny Phantom), Penelope Spectra, Wesley Weston, Walter Weston, Spike (Danny Phantom), Edward Lancer Additional Tags: I'm back baby, The Fentons are a family of Geniuses, Mulltilingual Danny Fenton, Multilingual Tucker Foley, Multilingual Sam Manson, The Ghosts have backstories, Bisexual Male Character, Transgender Danny Fenton, Space Core! Danny, round 2 friends, reseting the world to fix your mistakes Series: Part 2 of Monstrous Mundane Magick Summary:

Ghosts are a part of life that none of them can get rid of, apparently, so now they just have to figure out how to manage them. Join the ghostly Trio as they deal with bad wishes, fight a demon (because of course ghosts aren't all there is) and even deal with a dragon or two! Will they catch any semblance of a break, or will the horrors of the supernatural break them?

Green mist, the crackle of the Specter Deflector mk1 resisting the energy in that mist, and then darkness. That was about what Tucker could remember of the fight if you could even call it that. After what felt like forever, he opened his eyes to find he was in his room. Sitting up with a groan, Tucker rubbed his head and took stock of the situation, just like a badass in a movie. “Still in all my clothes from the fight, Sydney isn’t here, Danny and Sam also aren’t here, room’s a mess as usual…” Grabbing his phone, Tucker checked for any panicked texts and saw none. It was just Friday again, Friday morning even. “Alright, so maybe cotton candy wasn’t her power. Ugh, whatever she did it clearly had no effect on me, so that means the Fentons at least know how to make a good protective belt.” Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed Tucker tapped the Specter Deflectorand paused. “Oh, wait, will whatever she did affect me if I take off the belt?”

Deciding he didn’t want to find out, Tucker climbed out of bed, brushed his teeth, changed most of his clothes, and checked more of his room. To his dismay, he found that Hunter’s mech was not, in fact, here in his room anymore. “Where the heck could that’ve gone? Mom and Dad didn’t move it last time it was this morning.” He paused, scratching his head. “Did they? Ugh, ok, that’s something to worry about later. If I ask they’ll just get upset that I lost track of it ‘because it’s dangerous’ or whatever.”

Heading downstairs to find his parents in the living room, Dad watching football and Mom knitting something, Tucker called out his usual good mornings and headed into the kitchen for some much-needed bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. Headphones in, the latest Dumpty Humpty songs on, and the smell of food filling the kitchen, Tucker almost didn’t notice the oddness of getting practically no messages from Danny or Sam the whole morning. By now Sam should’ve been complaining about being sick, at the very least.

When he finished up his food, Tucker headed out the door, calling out to his parents, “Gonna go visit Danny, see ya later!” And before they could respond, he was out the door and putting on his helmet. The AI he’d rigged together pointed him toward his board, which he was more than grateful to still have even if Hunter’s suit would be useful, and soon he was in the air. Still, even with no air traffic since the boards weren’t exactly for sale - yet, he needed to talk with Danny about that - he stopped before texting Danny. He couldn’t just phase through a building instead of crashing because he wasn’t looking where he was going after all.

Hey Danny, where should we meet up? I’m omw to tell you something wild.

He guessed, of course, that Danny was at home, so he took off for FentonWorks. Music blaring in his ears, the wind tugging at his body as he did a loop, Tucker considered whether or not he should see if a random girl at the park would find his board cooler than the girls at school. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he blinked a few times, lifting up his helmet to make sure he was reading this right.

Astroboy: I’m at my uncle’s place, u know that.

“Alright, the ghost did more than just chuck me back to this morning, apparently. Why would she put Danny at Wes’ place?” Tucker readjusted his helmet and sped off, going a bit faster than before. He took a moment to take in everything below him, seeing no signs of the fight with Hunter that took place outside the library as he passed it. “There should be something there though… the plasma and the lasers melted holes into the walls and street.”

When Tucker reached the Weston home, he was almost certain of what had happened. The ghost had been some sort of wish granter, like a genie, and she’d heard him wish that Danny hadn’t gone into the portal. That explained the lack of Hunter’s marks on the town, without Danny being half-ghost the poacher had no reason to go after him. Maybe Danny just grew closer to Wes without the ghost stuff in the way? Regardless, Tucker went through the awkwardness of greeting Mr. Weston when he answered the door, “Hi there, I’m Tucker Foley. I’m not sure if you remember me but I’m Danny’s friend and he said he was here.”

“Ah yes, Tucker,” the ginger said, taking him in and clearly searching for a memory. “The one he made the hoverboards and the rockets with, right?”

“Yup! That’s me. May I come in?”

“Of course, sure. Shoes at the door and all that.” Tucker kicked off his shoes and Mr. Weston pointed him upstairs.

When Tucker finally found Danny, his good mood at the fact that his best friend didn’t have to worry about fighting ghosts or questioning who and what he was anymore dropped like a lead ball. It looked like a half-assed recreation of Danny’s actual room, desk and posters, and even his Horrorstation all together in one room. It didn’t have the murals of the stars on the ceiling or the walls like in Danny’s real room, but it looked too personalized to be a guest room. Danny looked up from his handheld and waved at him, looking for all the world like something was crushing him. “Hey, Tuck. What’s up?”

“More than I wanted to be, it looks like,” he muttered. Taking a seat on the bed next to Danny - and it was his bed, the exact same mattress - Tucker took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “How do I ask this?” His eyes swept over the room, marking where things should be but weren’t, until he landed on Danny again, looking concerned and tense and just as thin as he was before. He wasn’t as pale as he’d been growing but he was still paler than Tucker thought was healthy. “Right, ok. Rip off the bandaid I guess. Say a ghost has, for whatever reason, messed with my memories so that I remember things a whole lot different than they are now.” Danny scowled at the mention of ghosts, the same way Dr. Fenton did. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “What’s happened since August?”

Danny sighed, leaning back on his hands and glaring at the ceiling. “Ghosts. Ghosts have fucking happened since August. Of course, they had to mess with you too, they already messed up everything else.” Danny looked at him again, trying to judge how much of Tucker was the Tucker he knew probably, and Tuck was doing the same. He’d never heard Danny refer to ghosts as a whole with such venom and ice in his voice. It wasn’t right. “After you convinced me how stupid it would be to actually go inside the Ghost Portal, Mom and Dad figured out what was wrong with it - an extra switch inside that would’ve had to be pressed to activate it - and after they fixed it, it worked. Jazz had a fucking fit when she realized she was wrong about Mom and Dad being delusional for believing in ghosts.” Danny looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I wish she was right.

“At first it seemed like the portal was working the same way all the other portals worked: a window into another world for Mom and Dad to look through and examine what was happening on the other side. But then something actually came out of the thing.” Danny shuddered and Tucker threw an arm around him. “I remember seeing the ectopus thing for the first time. It was so... wrong. Like a messed up hologram that made my eyes hurt to look at it. We all had weapons, thank the stars, but it took a while to get that thing back into the portal.”

“Ok, so it was a door and they didn’t want one of those yet, so they tried unplugging it,” Tucker said when Danny went quiet. He remembered this conversation when Hunter came up. “But it didn’t work that way. Self-sustaining or something, right?”

“A self-sustaining interdimensional intersection that was apparently powered on the other side as much as it was on ours. Stars, Tuck, the freakin Lunch Lady from the 50s came through - or rose up in the cafeteria kitchen, I guess. Either way, when Sam had her menu change thing done and we started a food fight with Dash over it, the ghost lady set the kitchen and cafeteria on fire because we were making a mess of her cafeteria.” Danny scoffed and Tucker winced. “Mom and Dad to the rescue with the Fenton Foamers, since regular extinguishers and stuff wasn’t working. That one got them attention,” he muttered. “The whole town suddenly had their eyes on us, so Mom and Dad did a press conference and then the whole world was paying attention. And then things went wrong.”

“Went wrong, how?” He almost didn’t want to know the answer but at the same time, he knew that he should know what happened because of his wish. This was his fault, and he needed to know what.

Danny curled up in a ball under his arm, and his breaths grew a bit shallower. Tucker was certain he wasn’t going to say anything but a moment later, Danny opened his mouth and forced out the words like they stung his mouth to say. “This giant fucking ghost hornet killed Jazz while I was in the counselor’s office and talking with Ms. Spectra about how the media circus was affecting my home life.” He leaned against Tucker, face streaked with tears and chest heaving. “Jazz fucking died of a giant hornet sting and I was talking to a counselor. One who fucking ratted my parents out called them neglectful and said they were endangering us at home and CPS shoved me into uncle Walter’s house.”

Tucker knew what being punched in the face felt like, Dash had made sure of it. Now, however, it felt a thousand times worse. Like someone had taken a hot poker right out of a fireplace and shoved it into his chest. “Oh my god.”

Tucker stayed with Danny as long as Mr. Weston would tolerate, getting the fact that the Mansons were moving out because of the danger in Amity out of him before they played some videogames to get all of this off of their minds. It didn’t, of course, because nothing could get this off of Tucker’s mind, but he had to at least try to get some normalcy out of this for Danny. He got curb stomped by a HellKnight and Danny took on being the Doom Slayer while Tuck stewed.

How the hell am I gonna fix this? That one thought bounced around in his head, the only thing besides static, and for what felt like forever, it didn’t go anywhere. Then he checked the news app on his phone for once in his life and saw that cotton candy had flooded the swap meet. I’ll fix it how I messed it up. I just need to find that ghost.

When Wes knocked on the door and told Danny it was time for dinner and heavily implied that Tucker should probably leave, he got up and squeezed Danny in a hug. He got squeezed right back, and it was weird how quickly he’d gotten used to the hum of energy under Danny’s skin that he couldn’t feel anymore. How odd it was to think this should hurt a bit more just because your friend was hugging you as hard as he could, but without superstrength.

On the flyby heading home, Tucker made a detour to the swap meet and started looking, though he wasn’t entirely certain what he was looking for. “Something Alladin-esque, I guess,” he muttered under his breath. Reaching into his jacket pocket thankfully produced the ecto signature tracker he was hoping for, and he followed it to several shards in front of a stand near the center of the cotton candy flood. That was good, at least. The woman putting things away gave Tucker a swell of hope, even if he felt she was probably wearing too much pink. Hopping off the board and removing his helmet he cleared his throat.

“Are you Madam Babazita?”

She stood, turning around to raise a brow at him. Pointing above at the sign that said Madam Babazita's Mystical Oddities. “Who else would I be, kid. Are you here to help with the cotton candy clean up?”

“Actually, I was here to ask about the uh genie that got released around here.” The Babazita turned her full attention to him, and Tucker flinched. There was a sharpness in her eyes and something… off. He didn’t want to make her mad.

“Oh really? You’re here about the djinni?” She looked him up and down and spread her arms out. “I didn’t see you here when her lamp broke.”

“Well, not this version of this morning, no.” He chuckled and cleared his throat again. “I jumped the gun and made a wish without realizing that she could grant them. The only reason I remember all of this, apparently, is because of this.” He raised his shirt to show off the Specter Deflector™. “It blocks out ghostly energy. Is there anything you can tell me about this genie ghost thing that would help me to fix the mess I made?”

Madam Babazita stared at Tucker for several long moments, her beakish nose raised high and her eyes sharp as a hawk’s. After another beat of silence, he opened his mouth to plead a better case than ‘I made a mess and need your help to fix it’ when she held up a hand. “Alright, kid. You look like whatever you did, you regret enough to keep bothering me about it. I’ll tell you about that djinni, but if you get hurt fighting her that’s your fault, not mine.”

“Got it.” She frowned at him and Tucker winced. “I understand, madam.”

Learning of Desiree’s life was a sad story to hear, but finding out that she was compelled to grant any wish she heard was a lifesaver. Sure, it sounded rough having to fulfill everyone else’s desires and not your own, but Tucker needed that kind of guarantee that he could get what he needed so long as he asked for it correctly. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. The sun was going down, and his parents probably didn’t want him out late with ghosts on the loose.

There were things Tucker could get away with, such as staying out particularly later than he should, ignoring all the vegetables on his plate and generally being less engaged in dinner discussion because his parents weren’t the parents he knew. Not exactly, anyway. A few months could really change someone. One thing he could not get away with, however, was taking a shower in Angela Foley’s household. So, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and took off the Specter Deflector™. Nothing happened. Opening his eyes, Tucker found nothing had changed. He could remember everything from how it was supposed to be and he didn’t get any new memories aligning with what Danny had told him. “That’s one mystery solved,” he muttered. That done he got rid of the rest and cleaned, trying to devise a plan.

When he woke up the next morning he had a plan. It was a relatively simple one. “Find Desiree, unwish my wish, and the world is fixed.” He put the belt back on with his new outfit of leather pants, a green sweater and a leather jacket he’d found sitting in his closet. “If she can change reality this much then who knows what else she can do? She probably remembers me shooting at her.”

Even with the wildness of a ghost messing around with people’s desires and a huge, overly public case regarding the town crazies who discovered the afterlife - a thing that Tucker was going to file under ‘think about in more depth later’ - life still went on. There were movies to attend, and people still went to them. This was not the place where Tucker expected to be dealing with a ghost of any sort. And yet, here the tracker pointed him, leading to Paulina… chibified. “I know chibis are supposed to be cute, and on-screen they are, but this? This is horrifying, and I don’t like it. I dunno how anyone else thinks this is cute.” Everyone in the theater was going nuts over Paulina, who steadily grew into a seven-foot-tall chibi version of herself. “Oh wow, the weebs are feeding her power or whatever. That’s just great.”

Riffling through his jacket pocket, Tucker felt the handles for familiar weapons - an ecto-pistol, a tube of lipstick that also shot lasers, the wrist ray he should have on and was now putting on- but none of those guaranteed he’d be able to get the ghost energy out of Paulina. Was this a good idea to act on? “Only one way to find out…” Aim, charge, fire. A beam of green struck chibilina in the forehead, dead on, and her supernatural form rippled with a green light. Everyone turned to Tucker, who sucked in a sharp breath, ran for his board, and flew away.

“Ok, I don’t have a weapon on me that can push the ghostly energy out of someone,” he muttered, hoping and praying that Paulina couldn’t also fly. “Good to know. Ugh, where would I find a wish obsessed djinni?” He looked down below him, and up above him even, hoping he’d spot any kind of clue as toa car flew within an inch of Tucker’s face and it’s tailwind dragged him into a spin.

Once he corrected himself in the air and almost caught all of his breath back, Tucker focused on the car zooming around through the air with green energy pulsing through it. “I know we were talking about making flying cars happen, but not like this.” He flew off and after the car, having to push the engine of his board to keep up, and knocked on the driver’s side window. “Uh, hello, this is technically speeding, I do believe.”

“DUUUUDE WHAT THE HELL!?” The blond surfer stereotype screamed, bringing Tucker to question his style and location. There were no beaches in Minnesota.

“Roll down the window!” Tucker pointed at the button, which the guy thankfully hit, and Tucker reached in to grab the wheel and steer the man away from the city. “Alright, so I don’t know how to drive exactly but I’m pretty sure there should be some brakes down there.” No sooner did he say that than the car stopped. It stopped dead in the air, and gravity took hold - a thing it did at inconvenient times. Thankfully, Tuck didn’t have to scream for the man to hit the gas again since this sudden a drop kept him from being able to catch the air needed for screaming. When they started moving forward and up again, Tucker clung to the car door and wheezed in his helmet, shaking his head. “Find. Empty. Parking spot. Think about going down. Slowly.”

“Oh what, just fuckin think about it going down smoothly and it’ll go down?” Tucker, who was on his hoverboard of all things, was being glared at. By some surfing wanna be. He had no time for this kind of bullshit.

“DID YOU WISH FOR IT TO START FLYING AND IT FLEW?!” the guy flinched and nodded, face screwing up with concentration as he steered the car. Tucker felt free to let go as the vehicle descended toward an empty-ish parking lot and began to slow down. When the car landed and Tucker hovered only a foot off the ground, the man practically kicked his door open and wrapped Tucker in a hug. “Whoa! Ok, ok this is happening.”

“Thank you! Fuck, man, thank you so much! I almost died, flying around in a car!”

“Yeah, I’m looking to find the person who did this so I can stop her.” Tucker gently pushed the man away and started floating up higher, his visor flashing with a status update on his board. It might need maintenance after pulling speeds like that. “You just do your thing, probably avoid using this car for a while. Buh bye.” That said, he sped off into the sky.

“You’re serious?”

“Would I be telling you this if I wasn’t 100% serious, Sam?” Tucker groaned, sitting on his board on the roof of the school. It was the only place he could think of that’d be abandoned on a Saturday. “I know how to be serious, you know!”

“I dunno,” Sam drawled, “you can be pretty insensitive.”

“Enough to joke about messing up everyone’s lives with a wish?” Tucker glared at his phone. “Sam, Jazz is dead in this timeline! I wouldn’t joke about being the cause of that!”

The line was silent for a long moment, and he checked to make sure he hadn’t been hung up on. Finally, Sam sighed the crackle of it in the receiver matching the static in his head when he learned about that little tidbit. “Fine. Ok, let’s pretend I believe you. Why do you want my help instead of Danny’s?”

“Pardon?”

“Danny’s the one with access codes to all the weapons his folks have for fighting ghosts, not me. Why are you telling me this instead of Danny?”

“First of all, I have the weapons I need to fight her if it comes to that, which gods I hope it doesn’t.” With all the chaos she was causing, Tucker didn’t want to get into an actual fight with Desiree. He had a feeling Danny wouldn’t have won that fight with his powers either. “Second of all: gee Sam, I wonder why I didn’t tell Danny that I essentially got his sister killed with a hasty wish?” The line was silent, and Tucker took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry, if I sound harsh or anything I just. You’re the one who comes up with most of our winning ideas, and I don’t wanna hurt Danny any more than I already have. All I need to do is find Desiree and make a wish. Any ideas on where she might be?”

“Well, she might be at a place where people typically go to make wishes. Everyone has a desire to ask for pretty much all day but a wishing well or fountain or something would probably do the trick.” There was a loud clacking of keys and Tucker winced.

“You need to ease up on that poor keyboard.”

“It’ll be fine. There’s a wishing fountain around the middle of Magnus park. Heck, toss a coin in and make a wish of your own, that might get her attention.”

Why hadn’t he thought of that? “Thanks, Sam, you’re the best.”

“You know I am. And Tucker? Be safe, or as safe as you can be.”

“Safe as anyone can be going after a djinni, yeah. I will be.” Tucker nodded and hung up, slipping on his helmet. Putting in the directions for the Magnus park fountain through his PDA, Tucker took off into the sky and hoped that things went even a bit ok.

Finding Walter Weston as he wished for a million bucks and peridot green mist swirled around him like a caress as a familiar voice spoke was not what Tucker would call ok. Still, he took the opportunity to stop another stupid wish from getting twisted - a million bucks could be quite a few deer or even just that much money crushing him under its weight. Slowing down enough to not break anything, Tucker swerved, yanking Mr. Weston up out of the smoke, and dropped him off a few meters away. Looking up, Tucker saw an infuriated Desiree glaring down at him and shouting in a language he didn’t understand.

That was fine though. He didn’t need to understand her just yet. She understood wishes in English just fine, clearly. “I wish that I hadn’t interrupted your conversation with Danny!” The djinni stared at him, eyes bright red with obvious fury, but her hands glimmer pink and green, and the mist wrapped around him again.

“So you have wished it, so shall it be!”

#Danny Phantom #Tucker Foley #Angel Foley #Maurice Foley #Danny Fenton #Wesly Weston #Walter Weston #Paulina Sanchez #Desiree #fanfiction #Phanfiction #fanphiction #fanfic #phanfic #fanphic #phanphiction #phanphic #Rexy Writes #Monstrous to Supernatural

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warau-okami · 5 years ago

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You should know how to use 'hazu'

BY AKEMI TANAHASHI AND HITOMI TASHIRO CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Kaigi wa go-ji ni owaru hazu desu. (The meeting should end at 5 p.m.)

Situation 1: It’s 4:45 p.m. and two colleagues are talking to each other at the office.

芝：ヤマニ部長は今、会議中ですよね？

ティエン：会議は５時に終わるはずです。会議室の外で待てば、つかまえられますよ。

Shiba: Yamani-buchō wa ima, kaigi-chū desu yo ne?

Tien: Kaigi wa go-ji ni owaru hazu desu. Kaigishitsu no soto de mateba, tsukamaeraremasu yo.

Shiba: Department head Yamani is in a meeting now, right?

Tien: The meeting should end at 5 p.m. If you wait outside the meeting room, you can catch her.

The word はず is a dependent noun that expresses the speaker’s expectation that something will take place. The structure Xはず — in which “X” can be a noun, verb or adjective phrase in its noun-modifying form — is generally translated as “should X.” It’s important to note that in this situation the speaker likely has a piece of information that makes them certain of their expectation. In Situation 1, Mr. Tien was aware of Ms. Yamani’s schedule and thus says 5時(ごじ)に終(お)わるはず (it should end at 5 p.m.).

今(いま)直(なお)したので、電気(でんき)はつくはずです。 (I fixed the light now, so it should turn on.)

同(おな)じ学校(がっこう)で働(はたら)いているので、田中(たなか)先生(せんせい)は井田(いだ)先生を知(し)っているはずです。 (Ms. Tanaka should know Ms. Ida, they work at the same school.)

Situation 2: Section chief Mr. Okubo and his staff are working at the office.

大久保：何だか寒くない？

三田：あ、寒いはずですよ。暖房が切れています。

Ōkubo: Nandaka samukunai?

Mita: A, samui hazu desu yo. Danbō ga kirete-imasu.

Okubo: Isn’t it a bit cold?

Mita: Oh, no wonder it’s cold. The heater is off.

The pattern Xはず, in which “X” is the subject, can also be used when the speaker has discovered the reason for something. In this case, Mr. Mita has discovered that the heater is off. In addition to that, the sentence illustrates how はず is used with an i-adjective. Here are some examples with a na-adjective and nouns:

リンさんはパソコンが得意(とくい)なはずなので、その仕事(しごと)はリンさんに頼(たの)むといいですよ。 (Ms. Lin should be good at computers, so it’d be good to ask Ms. Lin to do that job.)

締(し)め切(き)りは来週(らいしゅう)のはずだから、急(いそ)いだほうがいいよ。 (The deadline should be next week, so you’d better hurry.)

店(みせ)の電話番号(でんわばんごう)は03-383-41XXのはずです。(The telephone number of the shop should be 03-383-41XX.)

Note that numbers can be treated as nouns, and that the particle の is used before はず when it follows a noun.

Bonus Dialogue: Two colleagues are gossiping about Mr. Tien.

グレイ：ティエンさんのお母(かあ)さんって、昔(むかし)ファッションモデルだったそうよ。

田町(たまち): そうなんだ。どうりでティエンさん、かっこいいはずね。あんなにかっこよくて優(やさ)しいから、モテモテでしょうね。週末(しゅうまつ)は、いつもデートで忙(いそが)しそうだし。

グレイ：それが、週末はいつもデートじゃないみたい。前(まえ)にホームステイしていたお宅(たく)のご家族(かぞく)のところに遊(あそ)びに行(い)っているみたいよ。同僚(どうりょう)の芝(しば)さんがそう言(い)っていたから。

田町：ええっ？そのお宅に、きれいな娘(むすめ)さんでもいるんじゃない？

グレイ：娘さんは結婚(けっこん)して家(いえ)にはいないみたいだけど、ときどき旦那(だんな)さんと子(こ)どもを連(つ)れて家に遊びに来(く)るらしいの。今は、息子(むすこ)さんとお母さんの二人暮(ふたりぐ)らしみたいよ。今でもティエンさんにとって本当(ほんとう)の家族みたいだそうよ。だから、田町さんにもチャンスがあるはずよ。あきらめないで！

田町：私(わたし)にそんな勇気(ゆうき)があったら、こんな片思(かたおも)いなんかしていないはずだわ。

Gray: I heard that Mr. Tien’s mother was a fashion model a while back.

Tamachi: Ahh. Well, no wonder Mr. Tien is so cool. Since he’s so good-looking and sweet, he must be very popular among the ladies. He must be busy with dates on the weekends.

Gray: Actually, it seems he’s not dating all the time on weekends. I heard he’s hanging out with the family he did a homestay with before. His colleague Ms. Shiba said so.

Tamachi: Huh? There’s gotta be a beautiful daughter in the home.

Gray: Apparently, the daughter is married and not in the home but she still sometimes brings her husband and kids around. Only the son and his mom are living there now. I heard they’re like a true family to Mr. Tien. Therefore, you’ve got a chance, Ms. Tamachi. Don’t give up!

Tamachi: If I had that kind of courage, I shouldn’t (be suffering) from such unrequited love.

#japanese langblr #nihongo #langblr #日本語 #grammar

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evilispretty-dead · 6 years ago

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So roommates? Part 34

Alex as the first to wake up looking over her could see that anyha was still asleep holding his hand “mmm anyha wake up” he nudged her with his shoulder to wake her up “come we are about to Land” slowly her eyes fluttered opening pulling her hand out of his so she could rub her eyes. The plane had landed and they was on the way to get their bags “we should go get coffee before we get picked up” Alex picked up their bags as he said this handing anyha her bag and linked arms with her as they walked out getting in a taxi , soon they was outside starbucks waiting for their drinks to come “ I can’t wait to get back on set” anyha smile as she nibble on her cake as their coffee was put on the table “thanks” they both said , as the dank their coffee it was Alex that made anyha giggle and all most choked on her coffee as he pulled a faced at his coffee being sad that it was all gone she snapped a picture on her phone of this smiling at him as soon they would be being picked up to go to work.

Driving on to set after their little coffee date seeing all the people mill about getting stuff ready for filming their first stop they had was makeup then into costume and they was really for the day , both of the sat reading the script as micro walked in “yaay you to are home” he hug Alex then anyha “you ready for the day” Alex smiled at him “yer I think we are” anyha got up from her seat and gave him a big hug “well I will see you two later I need to find Katheryn” she walked out off makeup as she walked passed Alex her hand ghosted over his back .

Scene

Fraye standing in the watchtower looking out our to the lands of katket as lagertha walked up behind her “I have spoken to king harald and he tells me that he want he want to Aline with us” fraye scoffed looking at lagertha “mmm don’t trusted him” fraye said as she look out over the lands , out of the tree line they saw some men riding with blue and red banners “by the gods it can’t be” lagertha watch the way fraye smiled as she moved so that she could get down “lagertha you have to open the gates” she said as she climbed down “open the gates” lagertha called out to the men standing at the gates they did what was asked of them

As the gates open men rode through as fraye ran to them and jumped in the arms of a large man covered in white far and a gray beard as he got of his horse “by the gods it good to see you sindri” the man grunted at her as he hug her putting down to look at her “hello freya” a young lad step at the side of the man , he was tall and built like a ox but with a beautiful face hiding behind blond bread “tahu look at you” fraye piled him to hug kissing his cheek “look how you grow I remember you just as a babe but now you're a man” tahu wrapped his arms around fraye “but I still have so much to see if the world” fraye pulled back from him to look in his eyes that was almost like hunny unlike sindri eyes that was black as the night “you must be hungry come eat and meet lagertha” she grabbed their hands as lagertha walked over to them “ fraye” lagertha had a confidence look on her face as she looked at the men , the tallest of all the men watched her like a hork as she move over to them “lagertha this is sindri and his son tahu , when I was just a girl leaning the ways of the god I found them when little tahu was just a babe , they are good men of mine and I tried them with me like as sindri voud his life to me” lagertha smiled at them “then friends of fraye are friends of katket” sindri nodded his head “thankyou you queen lagertha” Tahu said as they walked back to the main hall with lagertha.

They was all in the Hall eating and drinking “your father doesn't speak much” lagertha said looking at tahu as he sat between Fraye legs as she beaded his hair up “he never talks not in all my life when he found me” lagertha stopped drinking her drink “found you?” Tahu nods his head as he drinks some of his drink as fraye slaps the side of his head “don’t move, lagertha tahu is not his real son sindri found the boy when he was young his family had been killed and the babe hid under his mother dead body” lagertha looked a the large man as he sat watching everything around him as he eat as he watched her as well , fraye felt the tension in the air so she guess she had to tell lagertha of the story of who she came to meet sindri the berserker and how he would pierced her as they travel together.

After telling lagertha she looked over the man “a kind heart sindri” lagertha finishes her cup as more food was put on the table for the feast as people start to fill in , tahu was talking away with some of the warriors that was sitting with them , Freya looked round them smiling to herself as this moment in time shoe was not thinking about bjorn or how she left ivar in York.

Somewhere in York

freydis Laid in bed with a man with ginger hair strokes get ginger beard as the laid naked wrapped each other body’s “ tell me again how we are going to break ivar” she asked as she kissed the side of his face “my queen made a promise to him and the gods that she would not have her army on the battlefield as he has don’t nothing to her or her people”the ginger man said ,Freydis hummed thinking this thought “so tell me the plan” she kissed his neck nipping at the skin .

Hvitserk was sat with ivar talking about their plans to go home as ivar wanted to take katket back and this meant they had go to king harald so they could go to war and take back katket .

Far way in katket the seer woke up crying out with his hand held above his body as he saw the world go up in flames and men fall to the ground with their blood spilling into the earth, the sound of battle crying rang through the air , the seer pulled at his clothes as he came face to face with a blue eyed wolf with flames licking at it far as it move over the battlefield, the seer sat up and the vision stopped making him call out no . Freya sat up right in her bed looking around her room to see who had called to her in her sleep and it was a call of pain but she couldn’t see anyone shaking her head trying to shake the feeling but still it sat in her gut making her feel sick , she got up from her bed wrapped her clock round her body as she mad her way into the main hall from the living qworts .

Walking through the hall she picked up a cup and a jug of mead the had been left on table , taking a sip from the cup as she walked over to lagertha throne to sit down and closing her eyes as she sat down but her eyes snapped open when She heard movement at the side of her looking over to where she heard something she could make out the body of some one soon they stepped in to the light and there was margrethe “margrethe?” “You not the queen nor should be lagertha it should be me and ubbe as king” fraye stands up walking over to margrethe with the coldness as a true ice queen looking her eyes making margrethe step back a little “I have to remind you that I am a queen” Freya voice was flat and cold “and don’t talk like you could overthrow lagertha” she had a look in her eyes like she wanted to kill margrethe at the moment as if some one was listening in it would look like the was plotting overthrow lagertha and that was not it , it was margrethe wanting more then she should ever have she got her freedom she should happy with that .

End scene

It was their lunch break on the katket set so anyha , Georgia and Ida when for lunch , anyha found it nice getting to spend some time with the girl and it just be them getting the lunch they sat down chilling and eating as janes came over to sit with them they was all asking anyha about the gig that she did with her brother as there was some videos of it and Alex had uploaded some pictures of her when she was on stage so she told them all bout it .

On the way back to set the walked passed Alex , Marco and Jonathan as they was going to get their lunch they said the quick hellos then was on the way again as they walked back to set anyha felt her phone buzz in her hand looking at it she saw a text from Alex reading it she smiled more as it was a text to say that he miss her and that he just want to sleep , making the girls giggle as they walked back to set .

Scene

It was the next morning in katket as the sun came up fraye was on she heading to down beach in just simple dress , getting to the beach she walked into the water letting it come up to her hip making the dress cling to her body putting her hand in the watch feeling it move around her closing her eyes she got a vision off a flet of boat coming their way as she felt flames lick at her skin making her bit her lip to keep her eyes closed as she know she had to see this soon the vision shifted as she was look on a battlefield as men fell to the ground the sound around her was muffled pain ripped through her body making her stumped forward , it shifted again showing her a temple with it doors broken and there was blood everywhere moving in to the temple she saw a statue of the all mother Freya cover in blood with a white goat tied to it with it gut cut out making her feel sick and that she couldn’t breathe, Freya open her eyes and felt her body pulled up from up the water as she was pulled to the surface she gasped for air coughing as she was being pulled back to the seashore.

Sindri pulled her back to the shore laying her on the sand as more people move around her as she tried to figure out how she end up under the water as she remember standing up , ubbe push her to sitting up “what the hell was you thinking?” He asked her as someone wrapped something round her “I l had a vision” she muttered out looking to her side as tahu face came into view “what did you see?” He asked, Freya started to cry ubbe pulled her into a hug “I don’t know” ubbe rocked them to calm her as her body shock with her crying “let her you back and out of their wet clothes” ubbe said as he look at sindri and tahu to help Freya up , sindri scooped her up in his arms letting her lay her head on his shoulder as he carried her like you do with a small sleeping child cradle in his arms.

#alex høgh andersen #fanfic #ivar lothbrok #ivarxco #so roommate #vikings #part34

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chiseler · 7 years ago

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SWEET YOUNG INNOCENT

Coleen Gray and Sterling Hayden in The Killing

Long before Coleen Gray arrived in Hollywood, when she was still a teenager named Doris Bernice Jensen living in Staplehurst, Nebraska, doppelgängers playing the Coleen Gray role were already appearing on the big screen. In the 1940 RKO programmer The Ape, Maris Wrixon took a Coleen Gray turn as a sweet and innocent young woman with a spinal defect who becomes the focus of Boris Karloff’s affections. Unfortunately, being a mad doctor, Karloff’s efforts to find a cure for the poor girl drive him to kill a whole bunch of people. A year later in John Huston’s High Sierra, it was Joan Leslie in the Coleen Gray role, as the good hearted young woman with a club foot who very nearly convinces Bogart’s Roy Earle to change his criminal ways. Then she makes the mistake of telling him she’s engaged to someone else. And in an oddly prescient move, three years after Coleen Gray earned her first major role, Jean Hagen played Sterling Hayden’s lonely, desperate and long-suffering girlfriend in Huston’s Asphalt Jungle, some six years before Gray would at long last play the role herself in The Killing.

For all the doppelgängers who came along before and after—and there were plenty—none of them could top Gray herself as the embodiment of lovely, wide-eyed, corn-fed All American innocence—though an innocence, while incorruptible, that often wandered unknowingly into some shadowy territory and the company of some pretty rough characters.

After getting her BA in Dramatic Arts from Hamline University, Gray (still Doris Jensen at that point) set out to see more of the country, stopping first in La Jolla. She worked as a waitress for a few weeks before making the headlong plunge into Hollywood. She enrolled in an acting school, began appearing in some small theatrical productions around L.A., and, as the classic story goes, was spotted by a talent agent who offered her a contract with 20th Century Fox. In an early magazine interview, gray told the reporter of her girlhood dreams of being a movie star, particularly how she would decorate her dressing room and buy gifts for her staff—all the standard dreams of a typical Coleen Gray character. But as so often happened with her characters, after getting what she wanted she soon realized it wasn’t nearly as glamorous as the movie magazines would have us believe.

First came the name change, from Doris Jensen to Coleen Gray, the single “l” to make her unique, and the “Gray” to subconsciously remind people of Betty Grable.

After an uncredited role in 1945’s State Fair was followed by two other uncredited roles, in 1947, the year film noir really came into its own, the newcomer Gray established herself as a genre stalwart, nearly as inescapable as Ida Lupino, but with her own unique character and persona. In counterpoint to all those devious, dime-a-dozen femme fatales out there, and counter even to Lupino’s streetwise and world wary dames, Gray was redemption, a sign of hope within a dark and nihilistic world.

Her big break came as the narrator and co-star of Henry Hathaway’s seminal and groundbreaking Kiss of Death. Working opposite Victor Mature and a young Richard Widmark (making his unforgettable screen debut as sociopath Tommy Udo), it was Gray’s opening narration that established her screen persona for time immemorial.

Over shots of the snow falling on Midtown Manhattan, her gentle Midwestern voice explains:

“Nick Bianco hadn't worked for a year. He had a record - a prison record. They say it shouldn't count against you but when Nick tried to get a job the same thing always happened: ‘Very sorry. No prejudice, of course, but no job either.’ So this is how Nick went Christmas shopping for his kids.”

While most Noir Era opening narration tended to be stern and authoritarian, warning audiences about the scourge of crime, the dangers to be found in the shadows of the big city and what have you, Gray’s voice is empathetic and, yes, innocent, the voice of a young woman in love, and so willing to overlook a few of her beau��s minor character glitches. She understands nick’s circumstances and makes no moral judgment about his decision to rob a jewelry store in the Chrysler Building in order to buy Christmas presents for his family. What we don’t learn until later is that our narrator, Nettie, was actually the criminally young Bianco family babysitter when the events of the opening scene take place.

Gray herself doesn’t appear onscreen until much later, when she shows up at the prison and breaks down, telling nick his wife has killed herself, his daughters have been put in an orphanage and, oh, yes, she’s been in love with him for years.

That seems A-OK with Nick, and through the narrative economy that so marked Hathaway’s film. The moment he’s sprung we jump months, even a couple years ahead to find Nick and Nettie married, settled down and living a deliriously happy suburban existence. Nick’s finally found work as a bricklayer, and Nettie has given her inner Midwestern girl free reign, keeping house and making dinner in a dress and apron. Even as things go to hell soon afterward, with Nick drawn back into the shadows to try and ensnare that cackling Tommy Udo, Netti’s perhaps naive optimism never falters.

It was a very good year for Gray, who also found herself co-starring opposite Tyrone Power in another, much darker noir touchstone. Her role in Edmund Golding’s Nightmare Alley (based on the William Gresham novel) would at first blush seem a radical departure from the sweet young innocence of Nettie, but you watch closely, and there’s still plenty of Nettie in Molly. Yes, Molly is a carny working a sideshow electric chair gag in a seedy traveling show , but for all the men lusting after her she remains sweet and virginal. Even when she takes up with the mercenary con man Stanton Carlisle (Power) and the two split the carnival to shoot for the big time with a mentalist act, her conscience comes with her. Once the act morphs from a simple nightclub routine into a spiritualist scam preying on the fragile emotions of the mourning and desperate, pretending to offer comforting contact with lost loved ones, that conscience rears up and Molly splits the show. She returns at film’s end, however, back at the sane carnival where Stanton himself lands after falling as hard and low as a man can manage. While all the other women Stanton has dealt with along the way proved themselves just as conniving and wicked as he is, Molly reappears as a singular symbol of possible redemption. Unlike the book, her presence offers that hope, however slim, Stan might pull himself together yet.

Five years later in Phil Karlson’s Kansas City Confidential (with Lee Van Cleef, Neville Brand, Jack Elam and John Payne), Gray doesn’t appear until late in the film, but works the same redemptive magic. Sweet and innocent as ever, she’s unaware that her retired cop father has turned criminal mastermind. She’s also wholly unaware her father’s about to settle a score with his three cronies while the patsy he framed for a million dollar armored car heist is closing in to settle a few scores of his own. She just decides to pay a visit, like any loving daughter, because she hadn’t seen her dad in awhile. Worse, during her unwittingly ill-timed visit, she falls for the patsy in question (Payne) even though she knows he’s already got a recored, because as ever she can see beyond such trifles.

The crowning jewel, and the perfect bookend to her role as noir’s ever-present symbol of goodness and light and hope within the darkness came in 1956 with Stanley Kubrick’s The Killing.

Losing the chewing gum and the cheap eyelashes, Gray essentially reprises Jean Hagen’s role in Asphalt Jungle, but with a certain melancholy purity that makes the role all her own. Kubrick made it clear he signed Sterling Hayden specifically on account of his performance in Asphalt Jungle, and yes, Fay’s relationship with Johnny Clay (Hayden) echoes the relationship in the Huston film in many ways—the sad young woman yearning for little more out of life than a scrap of attention from her outlaw boyfriend. More interesting within the context of the film is how the relationship acts as a mirror image of that scheming Sherry (Marie Windsor) and her sap of a husband George (Elisha Cook) across town. Sherry endlessly belittles George, having not the slightest inkling he’s involved in planning a massive heist. Fay, meanwhile, is a simple kid who—like Nettie in Kiss of Death—knows full well what Johnny’s business is, and loves him anyway. Again, all she wants is a little attention in return, but knows she’ll have to wait to get it. Despite the company she keeps, she’s as wide-eyed and innocent as ever, and at film’s end, when everything goes to hell, she doesn’t run, doesn’t scream or panic. She offers a few gentle suggestions about possible escape, but when a clearly defeated Johnny shrugs off her suggestions, she waits again as he turns to face the cops, and you know she’ll keep waiting until he gets out of prison.

For noir nuts, that was the high water mark, though afterward gray was busier than ever, mostly on television and mostly in Westerns, where her midwestern beauty made her a natural. There were a few weirdies dropped in along the way, including her starring role in the 1960 low-budget drive-in hit The leech Woman. Essentially a knockoff of the previous year’s The Wasp Woman, and one of her very few villainous turns, Gray plays a middle aged woman who learns the secret to eternal youth lay in a formula that calls for the pineal gland of a male. Given the serum’s youth-restoring properties are only temporary, well, that means she’s going to have to start collecting a lot of pineal glands. In another less than wholesome turn in 1962’s The Phantom Planet, she plays the blond and manipulative daughter of a…well, to be honest it’s a bit too much and too mind boggling to get into here, but Gray does seem to be having fun playing against type.

In an era when such a thing wasn’t the kiss of death (so to speak), Gray was an outspoken political conservative and Christian, and as early as 1964 was lobbying Congress for a Constitutional amendment allowing prayer in public schools. She continued working steadily into the mid-Eighties, retiring from show business while only in her sixties. Along with her third husband Joseph Fritz Ziesier, she devoted the last three decades of her life to social work, from the Red Cross and Girl Scouts to an evangelical fellowship group aimed at prison inmates. Which is pretty much what you’d expect from a Coleen Gray character.

by Jim Knipfel

#Jim Knipfel #Coleen Gray #Sterling Hayden #The Chiseler

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architectnews · 4 years ago

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Cathedral of the Holy Cross, Boston

Cathedral of the Holy Cross, Massachusetts Historical Building Renovation, American Architecture Images

Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston

Nov 22, 2020

Cathedral of the Holy Cross

Design Architect: Elkus Manfredi Architects

Location: 1400 Washington Street, Boston, Massachusetts, USA

Elkus Manfredi Architects designed the renovation of the Cathedral of the Holy Cross to bring new life to its vast interior. Through a host of improvements in the revitalized sanctuary and nave and newly illuminated stained glass, this unifying renovation reinvigorates the Cathedral as a beacon of support in the community.

Boston’s Cathedral of the Holy Cross was originally consecrated in 1875 and built in the Gothic Revival style using local Roxbury puddingstone and gray limestone trim. The seat of the Archdiocese of Boston and the largest Catholic church in New England, the Cathedral lacked a comprehensive interior renovation in decades and suffered from deferred maintenance and infrastructure problems – photo © Robert Benson

Originally consecrated in 1875 and built in the Gothic Revival style using local Roxbury puddingstone and gray limestone trim, the Cathedral of the Holy Cross measures 364 feet long, 90 feet wide, and 120 feet high from the finished basement floor to the ridge of the nave attic. The largest church in New England, the Cathedral had not had a comprehensive renovation in decades and suffered from deferred maintenance and infrastructure problems.

Boston’s Archbishop, Cardinal Sean O’Malley, envisioned a restored Cathedral as a beacon of support in the community it serves. His first inspiration for that vision was the glowing stained glass windows of an earlier restoration and relighting of the Blessed Sacrament Chapel – photo © Robert Benson

Before Elkus Manfredi was commissioned for the project, the Archbishop of Boston, Cardinal O’Malley, was inspired by the glowing stained glass windows of the Cathedral’s Blessed Sacrament Chapel, from there, the much-needed renovation project gained momentum.

The renovation of the Cathedral interiors followed the earlier restoration of the stone exterior – photo © Robert Benson

Awards & Recognition This renovation has received multiple design awards including: • Winner. Preservation Achievement Award & Fan Favorite, Boston Preservation Alliance • Winner. AIA for Interfaith/Faith&Form Religious Architecture – Renovation • Winner. Architecture MasterPrize for Restoration & Renovation • Winner. International Interior Design Association (IIDA) New England for Community and Culture • Finalist. Society of British & International Design (SBID) Awards for Public Spaces • Gold in Interior Design. International Design Awards (IDA) for Religious, symbolic and spiritual buildings/monuments

The transformational design of the interior renovation was developed by Elkus Manfredi Architects and Suffolk in collaboration with the Archdiocese. The work included a host of improvements in the revitalized sanctuary and nave, new stone flooring, newly illuminated stained glass, and all new MEP, life safety, accessibility, and lighting systems – photo © Robert Benson

Project Scope  Renovating and revitalizing the Cathedral’s sanctuary and nave to create a more expansive environment that brings the congregants closer to the altar

 Adding new floor finishes, refreshed interior finishes, and new liturgical appointments and furnishings

 Illuminating all of the Cathedral’s soon-to-be-restored stained glass windows with backlighting

 Designing the sensitive integration of new mechanical, electrical, and plumbing systems, including first-ever air conditioning for the sanctuary and nave, and fire protection systems

 Redesigning the sanctuary’s lighting to create a new, refined lighting environment for the Cathedral’s interior that will also allow events to be broadcast without the need for supplemental lighting

 Upgrading the building’s systems infrastructure to support the installation of new robotic cameras necessary for broadcast programming

 Designing historically sensitive and architecturally discreet accessibility

 Repainting the Cathedral’s interior, refreshing its long-standing darker aesthetic

 Installing new stone floors in the sanctuary, nave, and Our Lady’s Chapel that are more durable and require less maintenance

 Structural upgrades to sanctuary for new stone/marble liturgical appointments and revising sanctuary configuration.

The Cathedral’s Rose Window was cleaned, repaired, and relit to bring out its details. The E. & G.G. Hook & Hastings organ, built in 1875 and is now listed as an Historic Landmark – photo © Robert Benson

Project Challenges Project challenges include:  Gain a complete understanding of the Cathedral’s existing interior without original architectural drawings. For a detailed understanding of the Cathedral’s existing architecture, the design team is using the 3D digital model developed by the construction team, created from laser scans of the building. The designers are also studying historical photos of the Cathedral to understand former interior details that may have been altered over the years.  Create an inviting, more spacious, refreshed sanctuary and nave

 Integrate new modern MEP systems seamlessly, including lighting, air conditioning, audiovisual, broadcast, and TV

 Design ADA improvements with sensitivity to the Cathedral’s sacred spaces

The redesign of the sanctuary created a more expansive environment that provides more flexibility for religious celebrations of all kinds. More space was created by reconfiguring the sanctuary floor, relocating the cathedra (the Bishop’s seat), and moving and centering the altar to sit closer to the nave – photo © Robert Benson

Design Solutions Boston’s Cathedral of the Holy Cross is being transformed through a unifying renovation design that is much greater than the sum of its parts. Developed in collaboration with the Archdiocese, Elkus Manfredi’s design solutions for the renovation include:

 Reconfigured sanctuary to create a more open and expansive space: The Cathedral’s sanctuary—the raised platform upon which the altar sits—had become crowded as the result of a 1980s renovation that changed the once flat-floored sanctuary into a two-tiered space, limiting the area for co-celebrants and ceremony. The redesign creates more space in the sanctuary in several ways: the flattening of its floor, the relocation of the cathedra (the Bishop’s seat), moving and centering the altar so it is closer to the nave (where the congregation sits), and relocating the baptismal font and the choir to areas in the nave. This reconfiguration also allows for seating for 60 within the sanctuary itself.

 Integrated accessibility design: Several accessibility improvements are part of the redesign of the sanctuary. These include replacing the exposed sanctuary’s handicap ramp with a discreet lift, the creation of an accessible path from the sacristy (the room where vestments and sacred vessels are kept) to the sanctuary, and providing accessibility to the Our Lady’s Chapel adjacent to the sanctuary.

The pew layout integrates accessible seating into the main body of pews, rather than relegating wheelchair-seated congregants to the back of the nave. The reconfiguration also captured more room for the relocation of the choir from the sanctuary to the nave floor, creating a more unified connection between choir and congregation – photo © Robert Benson

 Reconfigured nave: The reconfiguration of the nave, where the congregation gathers, maintains the Cathedral’s current seating capacity for 1,900 while creating better accessibility and more usable space. Solutions include reconfiguring the pew layout to integrate accessible seating into the main body of pews, rather than relegating wheel-chair-seated congregants to the back of the nave, while removing pews from areas to the right and left of the nave’s center to provide space for removable seating. The reconfiguration has also captured more room for the relocation of the choir from the sanctuary to the nave floor, both creating a more unified connection between choir and congregation, and freeing space within the sanctuary. Additional space has also been reclaimed from the nave’s side vestibules, offering new flexible entry areas.

 Design of new liturgical appointments: Working with Connecticut’s Baker Liturgical Art, the team designed a new family of liturgical appointments and furnishings for the sanctuary and nave to replace the existing ones, all made of wood. The team took inspiration from the church’s interior details so that the design of the appointments, while new, would feel a timeless part of the larger whole. To further establish a feeling of permanence, some new appointments are of marble, and include a new altar, baptismal font, and ambo, the raised lectern used for reading the Gospel; reusing existing cathedra.

 Renovated interior finishes: New interior finishes, combining lightness and permanence, include white and light grey marble floors in the sanctuary and Our Lady’s Chapel, and a floor of grey quartzite with white inlay for the nave. Replacing the existing carpeted and wood floors with stone throughout the sanctuary and nave introduced the feeling of timelessness and solidity, while also reducing the maintenance needs of wood floors. The project included the fresh painting of the nave and sanctuary in a palette of whites—and the reintroduction of earlier details in red and gold paint that had long been painted over. The analysis of historical photos helped the design team learn of these earlier paint details. The refinished walnut pews and the sanctuary’s refreshed cathedra ground the space with warmth and welcome.

 Integrated MEP, fire protection, and life safety systems: New building infrastructure includes integrating air conditioning into the main cathedral that it is quiet and invisible, and installing a fire safety sprinkler system.

 The right technology: Before installing the MEP system for the new air conditioning, the architects worked with WSP’s engineers to develop a fluid dynamic model of the nave and sanctuary to assure that the AC system’s design did not create unwanted breezes or cold or hot spots. The team tested the Cathedral’s lighting plan with a similar digital model.

 Integrated lighting: After stripping away all the non-historic lighting systems, the design team created new, discreetly placed lighting fixtures that avoid creating the distracting visual clutter of the existing miscellany of lighting. The large pendant fixtures in the side aisles were removed, restored, and re-lamped. An all-LED lighting plan also anticipates future lighting requirements for broadcasts from the Cathedral.

 Backlighting of the stained-glass windows: Designers created a new system that backlight the Cathedral’s stained glass windows from within so that the church glows, lantern-like, in the evenings.

 Restored ceiling trusses: The ceiling’s elaborately carved wooden trusses were cleaned and sealed. Formerly, the trusses and details had an edge bead of maroon paint, which was re-placed with metallic gold to emphasize detail in the trusses. Once the scaffolding platform was erected, designers were able to see existing stenciled murals on the wood, which had become obscured. The remaining traces of these stenciled murals were preserved. New lighting was added in the wood ceiling and existing lighting positions on the wood trusses and columns were replaced, providing uplight to the ceiling details. New recessed lighting was added to illuminate the liturgical appointments on the sanctuary platforms below.

The team designed a new family of liturgical appointments and furnishings for the sanctuary and nave to replace the existing ones, all made of wood. The new altar, baptismal font, and ambo are of marble. Creating a sense of permanence, marble was the original material at the time the Cathedral was constructed, but had been replaced with wooden versions over time – photo © Robert Benson

By the Numbers  Largest church in New England  Cathedral dimensions: 364 feet long, 160 feet wide (at transept), 120 feet high  Consecrated in 1875  Square footage of the sanctuary: approximately 3,800 sf  Square footage of the nave: approximately 18,800 sf  Total square footage of the Cathedral: approximately 61,600 sf  Total square footage of Elkus Manfredi’s renovation: approximately 35,000 sf  The Cathedral houses the largest, and arguably finest, organ built by the world-renowned E. & G.G. Hook and Hastings Company in 1875. It is listed in the United States’ Organ Historical Society’s database.

Taking inspiration from the church’s interior details, the design of the appointments, while new, feels a timeless part of the larger whole – photo © Robert Benson

Suffolk “Building Smart” at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross The Cathedral of the Holy Cross renovation project has been a fascinating blend of old and new. During the planning phase of the historic building, Suffolk used sophisticated technologies as part of its “build smart” approach to capture critical data about the structure to ensure a seamless and predictable process and outcome. Suffolk laser-scanned the entire interior of the Cathedral to capture precise data that was incorporated into a comprehensive virtual design and construction (VDC) model. For example, the laser scan of the wood flooring provided the project team a better understanding of the various levels and heights of the floor so the new level stone floor could be installed quickly and efficiently with no mistakes or rework.

The project included the fresh painting of the apse in a light-colored palette- its long-standing, primary interior character—and the reintroduction of earlier details in red and gold paint that had long been painted over. The analysis of historical photos helped the design team learn of these earlier paint details – photo © Robert Benson

The Suffolk team also leveraged the laser scan data and virtual design and construction model to capture precise measurements of the spaces within the walls so that updated HVAC and mechanicals could be prefabricated and installed to fit perfectly within those walls without disrupting or damaging the existing building. Because of the team’s precise data captured through the scanning process, the HVAC and mechanicals were prefabricated offsite and simply assembled and fit together in the walls of the Cathedral—because the components were produced based on the hyper-accurate model, they fit perfectly together in the walls, so there was no need to demolish and reconstruct the Cathedral walls to seamlessly marry the new-age, efficient mechanicals with the historic building.

All existing window mullions were cleaned, repaired, and repainted, and a new lighting system created to highlight the windows in both the interior and exterior – photo © Robert Benson

Suffolk used VDC models to rebuild the Cathedral of the Holy Cross structure on a computer screen before actually rebuilding it on the site. The laser-accurate model allowed the project team to collaborate more closely with the architects and trade partners, and more efficiently and effectively plan the reconstruction of the Cathedral of the Holy Cross to deliver a seamless, predictable reconstruction process.

The ceiling’s elaborately carved wooden trusses were cleaned and sealed. Formerly, the trusses and details had an edge bead of maroon paint, which was replaced with metallic gold to emphasize detail in the existing trusses – photo © Robert Benson

The Chrism Mass in the restored Cathedral was led by Cardinal Sean O’Malley, Archbishop of Boston – photo © George Martell

Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston, Massachusetts – Building Information

Architect: Elkus Manfredi Architects

Client: The Archdiocese of Boston Construction Manager/Owner’s Project Manager: Suffolk Liturgical Consultant: Baker Liturgical Art, LLC Structural Engineer: MacNamara Salvia, Structural Engineers MEP Engineers: WSP Lighting Consultant: HDLC Architectural Lighting Civil Engineer: VHB Acoustics & Audio Visual: Acentech Stained Glass Restorer: Lyn Hovey Studio, Inc. Code: Jenson Hughes Architectural Art Restoration: Ever Green Architectural Arts MEP Contractors: PJ Kennedy & Sons Scaffolding: Marr Scaffolding

The first full Mass for the public in the renovated Cathedral was held on Palm Sunday, April 14, 2019, and Easter was celebrated a week later with the pews overflowing with congregants – photo © George Martell

Cathedral of the Holy Cross, Boston images / information received 221120

Location: Boston, Massachusetts, USA

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historichollywoodphotographs · 5 years ago

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When the Landscape We Once Knew Changes Forever

Some things will just never look the same again. Take these two photographs, shot in 1915 and 1920 from the southeast corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue, overlooking the Hollywood Hotel, with Yamashiro on the hilltop behind. It too was a time of life-altering global change that also coincided with the rapid development of early Hollywood. This vantage point simply no longer exists, but thanks to the magic of photography and historic preservation, we can travel back in time for a minute and marvel at the simpler time that was, before everything changed forever.

We recently wrote about the ever-adapting thoroughfare that is Highland Ave, and the evolution of Yamashiro the “Palace on the Hill”, first known as the Bernheimer Estate and Gardens, later one of Hollywood’s most beloved tourist attractions and restaurants. In the course of combing through our collection for these blogs, we happened upon these images and it got us thinking about the landmarks that have anchored this particular corner, the story of the Hollywood Hotel, how its surroundings developed, and who played a pivotal role.

Fourteen years prior to this photo in 1901, the Los Angeles Pacific Boulevard and Development Company was incorporated and its stock was distributed in $1,000 allotments to the principal financiers of Los Angeles. Among the many investors were Harrison Gray Otis, editor of the Los Angeles Times; real estate developer H.J. Whitley; and builder George W. Hoover. They used their capital stock to buy sixty acres of the Rancho La Brea - north of Prospect Avenue (later renamed Hollywood Blvd), east of Whitley Avenue, where Cahuenga runs north into Highland, to a sycamore tree at the entrance to the Hollywood Bowl, then southwest back to Highland and Prospect - from Mrs. Ida Hancock for the whopping sum of $18,000. A phenomenal deal by prime Hollywood real estate standards! Then from Elijah Carson, they purchased an adjacent parcel of the land north of Prospect and Highland, to a boundary midway between Sycamore Avenue and Cerrito Place.

While the Los Angeles Pacific Boulevard Development Company was promoting their new development, Mrs. Daeida Wilcox Beveridge - an equally esteemed developer credited for founding and coining the name “Hollywood” when she and her first husband Harvey Wilcox purchased 120 acres in the Cahuenga Valley and recorded the name on the plot of their new ranch and subdivisions - was also actively building a business center at Prospect and Cahuenga at the time. Though real estate rivalries were not uncommon in Hollywood’s early days, these two simultaneous developments created a bit of a “divided village”, with two ambitious business centers connected by a half mile strip of territory, through which ran the only common transportation in town, the streetcar.

Mr. Hoover completed the first twenty-five room unit of the Hollywood Hotel in February 1903. Shortly thereafter, Mr. Hoover sold the property to Martha Stewart and Mrs. Margaret J. Anderson, who very capably operated the hotel until May 1904, when they deeded it to the Hollywood Hotel Company for $46,000. One of the larger stockholders of the newly formed company was Almira “Mira” Hershey, a member of the Pennsylvania chocolate bar family who also made a name for herself in Hollywood as a real estate baroness and hotelier, after she built the first hotel on Wilshire Blvd near MacArthur Park named the Hershey Arms Hotel in 1902. When she took over the management of the Hollywood Hotel around 1905, she commissioned the construction of an additional fifty rooms. By 1907, Miss Hershey had acquired all the stock of the Hollywood Hotel Company, placed the deed in her name, and added another 50 fifty rooms, bringing the total number to 125. She also took an interest in developing the surrounding gardens, and in the years that followed, the hotel not only became a favorite tourist destination along the Balloon Route streetcar line, but more importantly, the social center of Hollywood life. The hotel was home to many silent film stars including Douglas Fairbanks, Rudolph Valentino, Anita Stewart, Lon Chaney, Pola Negri, Norma Shearer, and many more. They attended weekly dances held each Thursday in the crystal chandelier ballroom. Gold stars were painted on the ceiling to celebrate its residents and the regulars who frequently dined there. The hotel gained international fame when movie columnist, Louella Parsons, put film stars on the radio for the first time and announced, "This is Louella Parsons broadcasting from the Hollywood Hotel”.

When Miss Hershey passed away in 1930, she left the hotel to her heirs, who later sold it to Charles E. Toberman (one of the founders of the Hollywood Bowl and developer of Grauman’s Chinese and the Egyptian Theatre) in 1947. He later deeded the property to his children, Homer Toberman, Jeanette Fletcher, and Catherine Torrence. They originally planned to tear it down and redevelop the block, but their plans were put on hold due to the shortage of building materials during World War II.

By the 1950s, the hotel was deteriorating terribly, a mere relic of its former glory. The owners were adamant that another restoration was out of the question. In November 1955, they sold the southeast portion of the property to First Federal Savings and Loan of Hollywood. In August 1956, the Hollywood Hotel was razed and a twelve-story office building took its place on the northwest corner of Hollywood and Highland. Redeveloped again in 1998, the entire plot was sold to Trizec Properties which built a sprawling shopping and entertainment complex, including the state-of-the-art Kodak Theatre, the current "official" home of the Academy Awards. Hollywood and Highland, as it’s been known for nearly two decades since opening in 2001, looms large at this famous intersection for the foreseeable future, making this view of Yamashiro, the Magic Castle, and the Hollywood Hills above Franklin Ave, a treasured photograph capturing the vision of Hollywood’s earliest pioneers and developers.

- Carly Caryn, Historic Hollywood Photographs

Sources: Bruce Torrence Archive; hollywoodforever.com

#historic hollywood photographs #hollywood #history #hollywood hotel #yamashiro #highland ave #hollywood hills #developers

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hallyudoinchica · 7 years ago

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Return To The Garden Ch. 1

No Jimmy or Robert or Jim in this chapter. Just a little backstory and set up in a sense. Future chapters might just around in the timeline. Might end up tweaking this chapter later still.

Hope you guys like it!

April 1957

Garden of Allah Hotel 8152 Sunset Boulevard Hollywood, California.

Ixchel honey! Alma dear! Climb up here on the bed girls. Let’s see what the cards have in store for us today.” Ida called from her place under the covers, propped up against numerous pillows laid against the headboard. She was a regal looking woman, with pale skin, rosy cheeks, dressed in silk and lace, bringing to mind someone like Lillian Gish, Mary Pickford, Evelyn Nesbit, or Norma Talmadge. A Gibson Girl come to life, now in repose. Like a Gibson Girl, she had her long graying reddish brown curls pinned back, only the odd kiss of faint rose left shining through the silver of her hair. Despite her stately elegance the puckish smile that alighted her features alluded to a sparkling personality that was maybe a little less Mary Pickford sugary sweetness and more Clara Bow playful sass. This was furthered by her perfectly manicured nails which were filed into an oval shape, painted blood red except for the little crescent moon slivers near her cuticle which were left unpainted.

She leant over to the side & reached into the drawer of her night table pulling out her special card deck waiting for the two little girls she was looking after to make their way over. One was tall, tanned, and slim, a willowy little thing that seemed to float everywhere, her long, straight black hair following her like a cape fluttering in the wind. The other smaller girl, equally as tanned, while having a fluidity of motion had an energy behind it that was less rippling stream and more raging river or crashing waves. She rolled around the room going from drawing on a notepad on Ida’s vanity, to turning on the radio & squealing when she heard the strains of Elvis Presley’s new single “All Shook Up” coming from the speakers, beginning to spin & bounce about, her mass of waves & curls bouncing around in time. But when her name was called she dutifully scampered in Ida’s direction, immediately forgetting her little one woman dance party.

Ixchel, the taller and elder of the two girls, recently having turned 8, was the first to make her way over to Ida, perching herself carefully on the edge of the bed, before straightening her dress, looking as if she had just drifted into position. While Alma the shorter and younger at age 5, clambered up onto the bed, crawling into her place in the center on all fours not caring that after her little impromptu performance her hair was tousled, curls slightly mussed, or that her dress was a bit rumpled, her skirt was askew or that in her cat-cat-like crawling her little rear was in the air. Once nestled comfortably in between the two Alma watched with Ixchel peering over her shoulder as Ida untied the ribbon wrapped around the cards & held them out to the two of them. “Who goes first?”

Alma raised her hand but then hesitated slightly, opening the door for Ixchel to take the cards. “I will.”

“Alright, dear.” Ida smiled relinquishing the deck to the young girl. Meanwhile Alma bided her time waiting for her turn by busying herself with the box of chocolates she had found on Ida’s night table. Busy little fingers laying waste to the wrappers before plopping the little rounded squares into her mouth. “But before I set things up and have you draw what would you like the reading to focus on? Shall we make this reading about anything in particular? Love? Career? Just general future or general advice?“

Ixchel took another moment’s pause before answering simply. “Love. Future love.”

“Well now! All right.” Ida nodded with a surprised smile. “Any set up in mind? 3 card? 5 card? 10? Or would you like to draw 2 and have me read the connection between?”

“Connection sounds fun.” Ixchel then started shuffling the cards as she was taught to do in previous readings. She focused her mind on the future of her love life while cutting the deck in the way Ida instructed her two and drew her two cards.

Her two: Ace of Wands. Knight of Cups.

Ida’s smile widened into a Cheshire cat state, prompting two choruses of, “What? What is it Ida?”

A red lacquered nail tapped the place where the cards met & explained. “This is very interesting. These two cards denote that you will come across your future love in a chance meeting. This chance meeting will evolve into a passionate affair. Intense. Very auspicious my little, Ixchel.”

Ixchel nodded thoughtfully trying to ignore the blush creeping over her cheeks at the sounds of the words “passionate love affair.” She then reached over to the table on her side grabbing her glass of water & taking a drink, trying to combat her throat which suddenly went dry. Licking her lips, she then asked in a tiny voice. “Can I ask the cards how I might meet them? Is that possible? Can I, Nanny Ida?”

“It’s possible, dear. Anything is possible. I can tell you that first hand.” Ida nodded & motioned to the deck. “Cut.“

Ixchel shuffled the deck again, pulling two cards from the center & turning them face up.

The two: The Moon. Three of Cups.

Ida’s smile brightened. “Very fitting for you, Ixchel. This symbolizes creative friends or art exhibitions of some sort. Though when the words “art exhibitions” are used usually one is likely to think only of paintings or drawings or photographs of the like it could also be used more loosely. At least in my opinion. I mean when you think about it a concert, dance performance, recital, vaudeville, broadway theatre, opera or a book reading is just as much an exhibition of art is it not?“

“Yes, Nanny Ida.” Ixchel nodded thoughtfully. She then gathered the deck and passed them to the younger girl next to her. “Your turn, sis.”

“Wait!” Alma held her hands up, refusing the deck. “Wait! Hold on, Ixxy.” She promptly went about cleaning the sticky chocolate from her fingers, licking her lips, wiping her hands clean with a napkin. Ida clicked her tongue and chuckled, running another napkin over the sticky smudges around the perimeter of her mouth that her fingers and tongue had missed before moving the box away and back to the table. Then getting the all clear from Ida she took up the deck and shuffled it soundly with the sudden announcement. “I want mines to be about love too!” Then focusing all her little energies as she hovered her hand over the deck she let her fingers be drawn to two cards which she then placed face up.

Her two: Six of Wands. The Lovers.

Ida just broke out into laughter clapping her hands at this. Alma mimicked this in a slow clap of her own, her little brow furrowed , head tilted in confusion. Ida saw this along with the similar confused head tilt coming from Ixchel. She leaned over and embraced the two of them before wiping her eyes and explaining. “I’m sorry, honeys. I’m sorry. I just love this. I love that the cards have given the two of you girls such bright futures.”

“Bright?” The two young girls asked in unison.

Ida nodded. “Yes, honeys. Bright. The two of these cards together denote success in love. It’s likely you’ll find and fall in love with the one. I’m so happy for you two!” Another hug. And then the question. “Wanna shuffle again & find out how? How you might meet him.”

Alma nodded & returned the cards to the deck, shuffling and once again hovering her hand over the cards until she felt compelled to pull two. The two she pulled?

The Moon and The Three of Cups.

This set Ida into another fit of laughter this time joined by the girls at the sheer oddity of it all.

“You would pick those two, love. It’s perfect! Again! Just too fitting! Maybe you two will meet them in the same circle?” The two girls shrugged, looked at each other meeting each other’s eyes with a smile before nodding, chorusing. “Maybe.”

“Say, you know what? Funny enough I had the craziest dream last night. One of my visions I think. And it was about you two and your futures, love life and all. Wanna hear?”

Alma and Ixchel knew Ida well. Her and her tarot cards. Her astrology charts. Her bibliomancy. Her visions. They tended to be dead on. She had even read Alma’s mom Lorena about her love life, telling her that her future love might also lie in creative circles, but this time the cards were different. Instead of also being The Moon & The Three of Cups they were cards that led Ida to advise her that her love might be find in literary circles. Indeed her now current beau, Jonathan Harcourt was one of the heirs to a large publishing house. He came on the scene trying to woo Ida to allow him and his family to publish her life story - which he had heard stories about from friends of the family. Back in her day Ida had burned bright as anything - as any star - the world had ever seen as a chorus girl and “It girl” dancing her way around the US and all over Europe during the 20s and 30s. Ziegfeld’s Follies from the inside out. Jazz Age Paris. Weimar Berlin and all the culture found there in the days pre-Hitler. The Harlem Renaissance. She had seen it all. And she had made her mark on every part of it. Everyone back then knew of Ida, or as she was known then “Imelda Iantha”.

It just so happened that while Jonathan was trying to woo Ida into compiling her memoirs, he also ended up falling for Lorena and he found himself wooing her in the more traditionally romantic sense. Lorena was charmed by him just as Ida was, especially with how genuinely good he was with her closest friends and support system Ida, Ixchel’s mom Luz-Maria, the girls, especially her Alma. Sure there were gifts for her and toys for the girls and daytrips and all. But he also seemed intent on building a genuine connection with them. Her visions panned out. The cards struck again.

So the girls were all too eager and ready to hear what Ida herself felt was in store for them. And so Ida began. “Well I was studying your girls’ charts again last night and I guess they must’ve affected me. Because as I studied your charts and how they related to you two girls I started to get a sense. Like for you Ixchel. You’re a double Pisces. Pisces Sun. Pisces Moon. Double water. But with an Aquarius Venus. That sounds like water & but it’s actually an air sign. That means as I’ve told you before that you’re more likely to be in tune with your emotions, a dreamer, sentimental, a soft heart, imaginative, given to fantasies and daydreams. Your Virgo Ascendant might give you the need or craving for order and stability in your life. It, along with your Mars in Libra, also might lead to you be a bit reflective and introspective, and lead to you being described as being a bit shy, reserved or understated unless you’re comfortable and feel at home or among friends which is when your Pisces expressiveness comes out. You even have a Mercury in Pisces to thank for this.”

“That’s Ixxy alright!” Alma grinned, nudging the elder who nudged back making her giggle.

Ida nodded as well, before continuing. “But the Virgo Ascendant. That’s why you’re so composed even for such a young girl. Naturally this can carry into affairs of the heart. But the Aquarius comes in to say that just as much as you’d like to fall in a spellbinding romance, you cannot feel like you are bound too much yourself, you also need your freedom. You value your freedom, your uniqueness and whatever sets you apart and makes you out of the ordinary and different from others. Your whole chart speaks for you being someone who values home and stability but needs to experience & have her freedom, creativity, and to be stimulated mentally.”

Ixchel nodded thoughtfully, Ida’s words clearly hitting home. But what really captured her attention the most was what Ida had in store for her next.

“And upon meditating later on I got one of my visions. Ixchel, I was come upon with a vision as to the type of person you might fall for in the future. The type of person you might like to to look for later on for when you’d like to start looking for that special someone.” Ixchel sat upright and nodded, hanging on Ida’s every word, leading her to continue. “My little Ixchel, when the time comes you might like to look for a wanderer with a soft heart. Someone with a gentle, sensitivity to them, a rawness. In my vision they had blue eyes. A blue eyed wanderer with a soft heart that you can relate to and travel with. That will tie love and freedom very well for you. He will understand your need for it and relate very well.”

Ixchel nodded with a bright smile slowly curving her lips, she crawled closer & hugged the older woman. “That makes absolute sense! Perfect sense! Thank you, Nanny Ida!”

“You’re welcome, dear. Anytime.” Ida gave the girl a warm squeeze back, regarding the younger and still slightly rumpled one as she pulled back. “And you my little wild child. You have quite the special someone in store for you yourself!”

Alma snorted with laughter,Ixchel giggling as well as Alma responded. “What? Don’t tell me he has blue eyes too. Don’t tell me Ixxy and I go after the same guy just because we got the same cards!”

Ida just chuckled. “No, dear. I don’t get that feeling at all from the cards, the charts, or my vision. I think you’re safe from that.”

“Good! I’m glad.” Alma nodded triumphantly, crossing her arms and leaning back onto the pillows with a satisfied smile.

“However!” Ida raised a manicured finger, pulling both girls attentions her way. “Your chart also spoke to me in my vision.”

Two voices raised a single question in unison. “What did it say?”

“You my dear Alma as I’ve also told you before have a Sun in Scorpio, a Moon and Ascendant in Taurus, Mercury in Sagittarius Mars in Virgo, and Venus in Libra. Your Scorpio sun though a water sign gives you an intensity you’d typically expect of a fire sign. You are determined, driven, courageous and nothing if not willful. You can also be described as maybe a little rebellious at times or defiant.”

“That’s Alma alright!” Ixchel laughed and mimicked the younger, nudging her and also earning a laugh and another nudge back.

“You have an inquisitive mind about almost anything and everything. Like Ixchel, that includes anything magical or supernatural. You also have amazing capabilities to bounce back from defeat.

But your Taurus Moon and Ascendant lie in the sign directly opposite Scorpio. This gives you extra dose of drive and willpower and even stubbornness just through it being Taurus the Bull. It steadies you and gives you your love of pretty things, comfort and home and security, the feeling of being safe. The feeling of being safe and being home is very important to you. But the fact that it is opposite your Sun sign may give you a tendency towards scattered energies. Hence your supposed wildness.”

Ida tempered this warning by reaching out and tousling Alma’s curls, ruffling them even more and earning a giggle from the small child. “Right now it’s just you being a child and carefree as you should be. It’s mostly later where it can trouble you. You can be indecisive, always wondering “What if…” You even run the chance of projecting a view of yourself that doesn’t match who you really are. Not lying or willfully deceiving and trying to put up a front. Like a fake face. But maybe a wall. Like making sure only those you deem worthy or reliable in. Or if you are ever hurt by something you might be likely to retreat into your shell or a place you deem a safe haven, like home.”

She leant in to hug both girls. “I hope you’re not hurt. I hope you girls will never be hurt.” Both girls hugged back tightly, as she kissed the tops of their heads before relinquishing them and continuing. “Your supposed wildness can also be attributed to your Mars in Virgo which is liable to give you a nervous or even slightly fidgety disposition if you ever feel idle. You too need to be stimulated mentally and creatively. There’s a hint of restlessness to your nature.” To this Alma nodded emphatically, her black curls bouncing. Ida had hit the mark yet again.

“And as for love, you need someone with refined sensibilities. Anyone too rough, abrasive, boorish, uncouth or heavy-handed need not apply. Matter of fact they likely only make your skin crawl.” The full body shudder she received from the little girl only furthered the point that she had hit her target dead on. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the display as she added. “You need someone to be gentle with you. Careful. To treat you kindly and fairly with your Venus being in Libra the sign of Scales. Meaning balance. You need someone to stimulate you mentally and creatively as well. You adore creativity and the arts.” She cast her eyes over to the little notepad on the vanity that Alma used as a drawing pad. It was filled with her childish scribbles, scrawls and creatures and scenes that only the impish little 5 year old could think up and bring forth. “So it’d make sense for you and Ixchel to meet them in creative or artistic circles as the cards showed.”

Alma followed Ida’s line of sight to the notebook, also thereby following her train of thought. She nodded and watched with rapt attention as Ida took a deep breath. “And as for my vision, my dear.” Alma’s toes curled as she gave another nod. “You might want to be on the lookout for someone who is a bit of a romantic stereotype in a sense.” There went Alma’s confused little head tilt, prompting Ida to explain. “By that I mean, “tall, dark and handsome”. That stereotype. I saw someone tall, dark, and handsome for you. Possibly… Almost definitely I feel… With Irish coloring. With a rosiness to them.”

“So, Nanny Ida… What you’re saying is if…” Ixchel started before trading off every few words with Alma.

“If in the future me and Ixxy run in artistic circles…”

“And we meet a “blue eyed wanderer with a gentleness, rawness, a sensitivity to them & a soft heart…"”

“And a “tall, dark, handsome romantic walking stereotype with Irish coloring or a rosiness to them…"”

Ida nodded, leaning back onto her pillows, crossing her arms with an enigmatic smile that still had shades of a Clara Bow proud impishness to it. “You could do worse than giving them a shot, loves. When the time is right of course…”

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Arplis - News: Uk Red Roof House

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