#hell mail: hades asks

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

„Hadie! Hadie!“ yells Mal at the top of her lungs, stomping loudly through the alley. She curses when it turns out that her little brother isn't hiding in this one either.

„Where is that brat?“ she mutters for herself. He has never strayed that far from home yet! 

What if something happened to him?!

Her parents wouldn't even notice!

And what if Mal didn't come home when she did, huh?! What then?!

„Hadie!“ she yells again.

What if someone kidnapped him? And her mother didn't bother to read her mail? Or killed the messenger?!

„For fucks sake, kid, this isn't funny!“ Mal's voice rises almost painfully, „If you are messing with me, fine, you won! Whatever you were playing, you won! Just come here!“

But the street remains silent, sans for her ragged breaths.

Mal blinks, straining her eyes to look into the deep shadows of the Auradon city.

She tries not to think about how far beyond the curfew she imposed on her brother it is.

She blinks again and moves to the next alley, kicking a flask laying in her way so hard it shatters. 

And all the goody two shoes citizens complaining about her disruption of night peace can go kindly kiss her ass.

„Hadie!“

Two shadows drop before her:

„Looking for someone?“ one of them asks.

„None of your fucking business,“ she snarls back.

She recognises the shadows – Jay and Jade of Agrabah – and yeah, no way in hell she is telling them that she has a brother. That Maleficent and Hades have another kid. 

Because knowing the Agrabah crime empire, Hadie would find himself kidnapped again sooner rather than later.

„Now get out if my way.“

„Treasure, we heard you yelling for a kid,“ Jay says, and oh, fuck. She bares her teeth at him.

„Really shouldn't have shouted it loud enough to scare the pigeons if you didn't want us knowing that,“ he says, flashing his teeth in a smile, and Jade stalks closer to him, nodding. She says something to him, not in a language Mal understands. Not that it matters, absolutely not.

„Get out of my fucking way,“ she repeats. And when they don't move an inch, she reaches for her knife.

„Geez, fine,“ Jay backs away lazily, putting his hands up, and still smiling, that bastard, „If you are looking for a kid – any kid – you might want to check with Uma, though.“

Uma.

Fucking Uma.

Of course it was her, messing with Mal's little brother!

She thinks that the whole city belongs to her, but Mal will show her! Uma will forever regret messing with her family-

Mal marches away to Uma's base, and, unbeknownst to her, the Agrabah cousins look at eachother, nod, and follow her: This was not exactly what they had in mind when they told her about Uma, but they gladly go watch the drama. (Of course they do. They'll get front row seats from the roof, too – and they might contact Harry Hook first, just for the hell of it.)

Finally, Mal stands before the abandoned storehouse Uma claimed for her gang, and bangs at the metal gate, letting her anger shine through.

„Uma!“ she shouts, „Get your sorry ass over there right this second, or I'll make you regret it!“

Against Mal's expectations, Uma doesn't show up. She yells again, this time with less death threats:

„Uma! It's emergency!“

Still nothing, just a watchman quietly judging her from the shadows.

So Mal yells again and almost chokes at the „please“ she added. (she will make Uma pay for that, too.)

Finally, the gang leader comes out, pretending to yawn, and not even having the decency to show off her weapons. Instead, she has two bodyguards behind her, that bloody poser.

Mal doesn't bother with formalities:

„Give me back my brother–“ she demands, barely restraining herself from yelling at her full lungs again.

„…You have a brother?“ Uma asks, genuinely confused, „Guys, tell me, Mal has a brother?“

The fighters shrug their shoulders and Uma turns back to Mal:

„No, really. You have a brother? Why didn't I know about it?“

„Give. Me Back. My. Brother,“ Mal carefully enunciates each word, „I know you have him, so give him back, Shrimpy,“ she spits out the cruel nickname from their childhood (it feels like ages ago).

„I don't know what you are on, but I don't have your brother. I didn't even know you have a brother five minutes ago, how could I have him?!“ Uma argues, but Mal already sees red.

She takes out her knife, angles it forward, and lunges towards Uma, fully intending to hold her at knifepoint until she caves.

She is surprised when the other girls reacts fast enough to meet her blade with her own, but hey. A fight is good as well right now, in her books.

Uma dances in front of her stabs and punches for a moment, not long enough in Mal's option, and soon barks out a short command.

Then, Mal finds herself disarmed and struggling against the strong hold of one of Uma's bodyguards. 

(So that's why she had them.)

„Uma!“ Mal chokes out from behind the strong arm holding her neck – if talking doesn't work, she could always try bitting.

„I know you have him! You always get all the street kids and thieves and fugitives – you know about everyone in this godforsaken city. Just, give him to me. I won't even hurt you if you give him back now. I won't take revenge –“

Mal isn't sure if she is lying or not. She just wants her brother back.

„I really did not know you have a brother,“ the gang leader says, „How old is he?“

„He's ten-“ Mal chokes out. „He's-“ (he is too young for this city of crime. Too young to die. He is innocent, he doesn't deserve this.)

Suddenly, Uma's voice sounds… weird. Softer, somehow.

„We didn't speak to each other the last twelve years, Mal. Of course I don't know you have a brother.“

Then she returns back to her usual demeanor, snapping her fingers once:

„Now, tell me how he looks. Maybe I will know something after all.“

So Mal starts describing her brother: A bit short for his age, tiny enough to fit everywhere he shouldn't and climb everywhere, a scar on his finger where he accidentally nicked herself with one of her daggers and another from when he was playing unsupervised with mother's acids. 

Wide dark eyes, and oh, the ends of his haor are dyed blue–

Uma snaps her fingers once again.

„Jonas, get that kid. Gil, let go of her, but stay on lookout.“

The arm disappears from Mal's neck, but she still feels as if she can't breathe. She won't be able to breathe until she sees Hadie with her own two eyes, either.

„I though you didn't have him?“ she spits out instead, leveling a glare at Uma. She hopes that the exhaustion she feels doesn't show in her eyes.

„Well I didn't know he was your brother,“ scoffs Uma, „The Baduns dragged him to me, claiming he might be in danger at home. So I took him.“

There is something final and deeply burning about Uma's tone and eyes, and Mal struggles with her words as she answers:

„He's- I'm taking care of him. I'm taking care of him, he's fine–“ she hopes she doesn't sound as desperate as she feels.

Uma scoffs at her again and doesn't bother answering.

Meanwhile, Jonas showed up with sleepy Hadie in tow, and Mal lunges towards them, the knife forgotten on the ground. 

She traps her brother in a bone crushing hug.

„Never do that again, yeah?“ she whispers, „Never scare me like that again.“

„But Ma-al,“ the child whines, „I wanna be there! I'm a detective!“

Mal freezes all over again and turns slowly to Uma, who just slaps a hand to her face, and up on the roof, Jay and Jade grin at each other: This drama is just getting started.

Especially with Harry Hook just rounding the corner.

The Badun detective agency in the 1920 mafia AU

For @hannahhook7744 I hope you enjoy!

There is a child at Jace's doorstep.

A fucking child, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes, like a fucking cherub. His hair a wild mess flung around by the chilly wind, and their ends were dyed blue.

(Who on earth lets a child dye its hair?)

Jace slowly blinks and looks down again: the boy is still here. Well.

„What do you want, kid?“ he asks, hoping that the child might want, well, directions back to his parents? That would be nice?

„My mom has three disembodied corpses in her basement,“ the boy states blankly, a picture of perfect innocence. His eyes are suddenly mildly unnerving, and it takes Jace's brain a moment to catch up on him.

„…What the fuck?“ he mutters more for himself than for the child, who takes it as an encouragement to repeat its words anyway.

So Jace draws a sharp breath and yells down the hall at his cousin: „Harry! Come here this instant! And bring your gun!“

You know, just in case-

Harry Badun runs to the door in truly record speed, the weapon safely pointed down. He looks disappointed when he sees only a child.

„Tell him what you told me,“ Jace sights towards the visitor.

„My mom has three disembodied corpses in her basement. They talk to me when I sleep.“

Ok. 

That is a new info.

This is cool. Totally cool.

Harry tightens his grip on the weapon and looks around the street, then up the roofs, which, you know, always a good idea.

They are clear, though. It doesn't look as if anyone is gonna jump them, much less some psychotic woman. Those don't tend to be too quiet, and the Badun cousins would know.

Oh, and by the way. That silhouette against that balustrade over there? That is totally Reza. Snogging Jade. Harry owes Jace for this one. 

Anyway. Right, the corpses.

„Come on, kid,“ he says, „Go inside and then tell us what you know, yeah?“

The kid's eyes shine as he steps inside and exclaims: „Do I get to be a detective too? I have always wanted to be a detective! I would be an awesome detective, since I know how do bodies look how long after death already!“

This is not a worrying statement at all. Not at all.

A shadow peels off the wall. Hermie. She was listening the whole time, of course she was.

„Dead bodies?“

„What exactly do you mean?!“

The kid answers and Jace bites back the irrational need to scream his lungs out. A vein at his temple pulses as the kid starts describing a rotting corpse with freakish accuracy to way too interested Hermie.

„Quiet! I need to concentrate!“ shouts Yzla from upstairs, „This is a delicate process!“

„Stop painting your pretty pictures for a moment,“ shouts Harry back, „This is a bloody murder case!“

„I'm trying to recreate Renoir here, you ignorant simpleton-“

„A what?“

Yzla screams incoherently and Jace interrupts the argument before it can truly begin: 

„We also have a kid that might be in danger and knows absolutely too much.“

„…I'm coming. But if the paint dries and I won't be able to get back to it, it will be all your fault.“

Jace doesn't even acknowledge that as worthy of an answer.

„Jace?“ Hermie nudges him slightly, while the kid infodumps at slightly traumatized-looking Harry about the different types of gunshot wounds, „Should I get Reza too?“

„…Nah,“ decides Jace, „He is snogging Jade right now, and we wouldn't want to interrupt.“

Hermie nods curtly and turns over to Harry: „You owe me and Yzla a bottle of cognac,“ she says, and Jace whistles. His cousin is losing in the big, today.

The kid tugs at his sleeve: „So what about my mom's basement, Mr Detective?“ the kid asks and he really should ask who his mom is. Also, what is his name?

So he asks, and when the child answers, looking at him with impossibly wide eyes, he almost gets an aneurysm.

„I'm detective Hadie, sir,“ the child reports proudly. Harry and Hermie just shrug – they don't know what is happening either. Nor does Yzla, who just appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing nothing but a negligee, and didn't she say she was working?

Oh, well.

Jace clears his throat.

„Right, kid. Hadie. And who is your mother?“

„But you are detectives!“ the child protests, „You gotta know that, no?“

„…Sure. We know that. Absolutely. And the bodies? Wait, no,“ Jace catches himself. This will certainly be a conversation, so:

„Let's go to the saloon first, shall we?“

Even if the saloon is just a fancy name for a room with a dining table and the kitchen counter, as he and Harry can hardly afford anything else.

They do have enough chairs, though, even if they are rarely used and mostly ignored: Hermie sits on the table, swinging her legs idly in the air, and Yzla plops herself down Harry's lap, setting his weapon aside. Fucking menace, that girl.

Jace himself takes the chair next to them and the boy stays standing.

(If Reza wouldn't be too busy with his current hookup, he would just lean against the wall and try to look very cool and intimidating, and smoke his cigarettes. Jace could do with a cigarette himself. Or better yet, a drink. The cigarette smoke reminds himself and Harry a bit too much of Cruella.)

„Now, tell us what you know,“ Jace asks the kid and damn. That kid. Does not shut up. Ever.

By the first thirty minutes, Yzla gets up and opens a bottle of wine to pass around, not even bothering with the glasses.

By an hour, Hermie is playing with her favourite dagger a bit too much and Harry has reclaimed back his handgun.

By hour and half, Jace is very ready to bleach his brain, thank you very much.

Hadie slows for a moment and Jace immediately stops him: „I think that's quite enough for today, Hadie,“ he says, „Thank you. Would you just step behind that door real quick?“

The kid pouts at him.

„Ehm… Me and my detectives need to discuss the evidence you just presented to us. And decide the, ehm, next course of action.“

Hadie finally steps behind the door when all present adults – including Eddie, who showed up half-way through – point at them.

And there is not much of a discussion, not really.

„Tell me we are taking that kid to Uma,“ blurts out Yzla before he can even speak.

„We could keep him,“ propose Hermie and Harry at the same time, and, yeah, no. As if Harry didn’t know they are barely staying afloat as it is, never mind, you know, not remotely responsible enough to raise a child?

…Yeah, it says a lot when a child would be safer on the streets, under the protection of one of the wildest Auradon City gangs, than anywhere else.

„We are taking him to Uma,“ decides Jace, and Yzla sights in relief. Eddie motions for her to pass the wine.

„You can come back, kid!“ Jace raises his voice, „We have decided!“

„Yay!“ the tiny disaster runs back to the room, „Do I get to be a detective too? Will we solve the case of my mother’s basement? Track down the victims’ family?“

Actually…

Jace knows how to get the kid to cooperate and go to safety voluntarily now: He winks at his associates, as to signal the general „don’t question me, I’ve got this.“

„Sure we are, kid. But, you see, right now we are working on another serious case, and we need you to help us. Will you be our eyes on the streets, detective Hadie?“

„Yes! I will, Mr detective sir! When do I start?“

„As soon as we can get you to the location. Now, let’s not lose any more time: We will debrief you on the way.“

That will hopefully give Jace enough time to come up with decent backstory, so, yeah.

With a yawn, Yzla gets up and sets off to her atelier, also known as the attic, not bothering to say goodbye, and Harry sets off to find his metal boxer and emergency knife.

„Reza is gonna be so mad he missed this-“ Hermie giggles, „It’s gonna be so much fun!“

And then, the Badun detective agency escorts its newest member, or, more accurately, adoptee, to Uma.

They don’t have any idea how much trouble they are causing Uma in the long run.

[vincememes]

brooklyn 99 starters

change pronouns as necessary; quotes were taken out of context & are in no specific order.

❛  the english language can’t fully capture the depth & complexity of my thoughts. ❜  

❛  i’m incorporating emojis into my speech to better express myself. winky face.  ❜

❛  with all due respect, i am gonna completely ignore everything you just said.  ❜  

❛  a place where everybody knows your name is hell. you’re describing hell. ❜  

❛  cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. no doubt, no doubt, no doubt.   ❜  

❛  if i die, turn my tweets into a book.  ❜  

❛  anyone over the age of six celebrating a birthday should go to hell. ❜  

❛  why don’t you just do the right thing and jump out of a window? ❜  

❛  i asked them if they wanted to embarrass you, and they instantly said yes. ❜  

❛  turn your greatest weakness into your greatest strength.  ❜  

❛  the doc said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be. ❜  

❛  do you see me as a father figure? ❜  

❛  no. if anything i see you as a bother figure, because you're always bothering me. ❜  

❛  can you magically make everyone kind, sober, and fully dressed?  ❜  

❛  title of your sex tape.  ❜  

❛  piece of advice: just give up.  ❜  

❛  ok, no hard feelings, but i hate you. not joking. bye.    ❜  

❛   do you bring me joy? no, because you’re boring and you’re too hard. see ya.  ❜  

❛   good to see you. but if you’re here, who’s guarding hades? ❜  

❛  fine, but in protest, i’m walking over there extremely slowly! ❜  

❛   hi, (name), the human form of the 100 emoji. ❜  

❛  leave me a voice mail. i won’t check it ’cause it’s not 1993.  ❜  

❛  i was born for politics. i have great hair and i love lying. ❜

❛  the only thing i’m not good at is modesty, because i’m great at it.  ❜  

❛  thank you. your entire life is garbage.  ❜  

❛  i’m scared of businessmen. ❜  

❛  that's the worst part of both of those things.   ❜  

❛   hey! welcome to the murder.  ❜  

❛   are those gummy bears wrapped in a fruit roll-up? ❜  

❛  if anything happened to them, i would kill everyone in this room and then myself.  ❜  

❛  i just forget stuff like a cool person.  ❜  

❛  yeah. i'd rather walk into the freezing ocean.  ❜  

❛  i never throw up. i just tell my stomach to deal with it. my body is terrified of me.  ❜

❛  huh. i'm surprised you're not celebrating inappropriately.  ❜  

❛  i don't slump, people. i opposite of slump. i pmuls. that's slump backwards.   ❜  

❛  it's been stressful, and it went so well. seriously, look at me, i cannot stop smiling.  ❜  

❛  i mean, you know how that sounds, right?  ❜  

❛  has anyone ever told you you look just like a statue?  ❜  

❛  ooh, someone's in trouble. it's me. i don't know why i did that.   ❜  

❛  you're smiling. it's very weird. like seeing a turtle out of its shell.  ❜  

❛  i've said "excuse me" more times this morning than i have in my entire life. twice! ❜  

❛  i'd make an amazing prostitute.  ❜  

❛  well, let's cancel the entire evening and try again next year.  ❜  

❛  curse my beautiful bubble butt.  ❜ 

[eldritch-essor]

the Christmas Switch

Prompt: Satan gets Christmas letters from kids who misspell Santa’s name. 

It’s one strange day in Hell indeed when someone dares to interrupt Satan’s afternoon nap. 

“Ex-Excuse me, Sir—” Satan cracks a single eye open, studying the postman in front of him who’s somehow managing to simultaneously sweat like a broken water fountain and tremble at the near frequency of an electric toothbrush. Rather understandable, the Devil thinks, considering that the poor man’s standing in Hell, directly within blasting range of the ruler of said land. 

“Yes?”

The postman jumps at his voice, lower than usual from his recent nap and twice as menacing, though Lucifer would probably just dump a cup of water onto him. Trembling even harder, he involuntarily retreats a few steps away. Not like it would help him in any way. 

Satan sighs, rubbing at his temples with a clawed hand to ward off the incoming migraine that’s sure to set in sooner or later. 

“What brings you to my domain?” he asks slowly and clearly, making sure not to move too quickly lest the postman gets a heart attack. 

“I— There’s a— no, I mean—” the man starts, stumbling over his words as he frantically roots through his satchel, spilling several letters in the process. Satan raises a single eyebrow as he watches. The postman finally manages to produce a neatly stacked set of envelopes of varying sizes and colours, and Satan vaguely muses at how miraculous it is that he hasn’t dropped any of the letters into the pond of lava right next to him yet. Clearing his throat, the postman starts again, proffering the stack towards Satan with a hand that’s trembling so hard he’s actually amazed the man hasn’t managed to shake the words right off the paper itself. “I mean to say, you have— your post, S-Sir.”

Satan nearly chokes on his drink. 

Letters? He wonders, internally backtracking. And for me, of all people? It’s only when the postman replies that he realises he said it out loud.

“Yes, Mr. Sa— I mean, sir.” The postman tentatively takes a step forward, eyes honed onto the Devil for any sign of movement that would presumably send him running like the wind. After detecting no threat — or at least, as minimal of a threat as one such as Satan could pose — he quickly lays the letters down at Satan’s feet, holding out a clipboard and pen towards Satan gingerly. “N-now, would you please sign here to declare that y-you’ve received your mail?”

The second Satan manages to scrawl what should resemble a signature onto the space indicated — it’s not as if he’s ever needed to write, that’s Lucifer’s job as the accountant — the postman snatches everything back and disappears in literal seconds. Satan watches the man’s rapidly receding back and contemplates how he made his way into Hell in the first place.

After he’s certain the postman’s long gone, Satan picks up the stack of letters thoughtfully wrapped in a length of twine string. “Letters for me, huh.” he mutters as he picks apart the knot, dumping the five envelopes onto his lap.

For lack of a better term, they were all covered with the brightest colours that a crayon could conjure. And they were all labeled in the shaky handwriting of children who have just mastered how to write their first letters. 

tO sAtAn, the envelopes proudly declared, in various colors. Unable to hold back his curiosity, the Devil slit open one of the envelopes with a pitch-black fingernail and glanced at the letter within.

dEar saTan, the letter starts. mY name iS EmiLY, aNd i am 6 YERs Od. (It took a few moments to adjust his eyes to the assorted sizes of the letters. ivv bEN a GOOd GIRL THis YER, aN i wOULd ReeLy LUvE a pupy fR CRissmass! pRETTY pLEasE?  YOU COULd COmE OvER aNd pLay wiTH HER, two!   Satan finds his lips cracking into a smile as he decides the brown coloured blob on the bottom of the page is most probably a drawing of a dog. 

Picking up the other letters, he opens them more eagerly, devouring the content within like a man who’s been deprived of water for a long time. Except, he doesn't exactly need water to survive (demon and all) but that’s beside the point. Timmy would like an action figurine (whatever that was), Ann wanted a new teddy, and the other two letters were written in penmanship that the Devil simply couldn’t decipher, even when he took out his reading glasses and squinted at the crayon scribbles so intensely the letter nearly went up in flames. 

And no, the Devil certainly did not accidentally singe a hole into one of the letters in the process. 

“LUCIFER! I DEMAND YOU READ THIS FOR ME, THIS INSTANT.” 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Out of everything he’s put up with over the past few centuries — not that Santa would ever admit that he was ancient — getting ambushed by a cloud of ash and sulphur was definitely a first. And that was saying something, considering how often he’s been tripped up by a devious string of bells wrapped around the kitchen in a childish attempt to catch him out during the job. And just don’t mention the cookies and milk. Santa didn’t know who started the ridiculous notion that he’d like twenty million cups of milk and double the amount of chocolate cookies during one night, considering how they’d forgotten one crucial fact: he was lactose intolerant. Also, who in the world in their right minds would think one man would be able to stomach enough cookies to sustain a small army in one night? Ridiculous.

Well, there was a reason why Santa didn’t sneak into houses via the chimney anymore. Not that Satan seemed to care, that is.

Santa blinks. Wiping the soot off his glasses to the best of his ability, he squinted hard at the figure in front of him, internally wincing at the scolding Mrs. Claus would definitely give him for getting his suit dirty again. That was Satan, all right, with an innocent ‘deer in the headlights’ look that had no business being on his face. 

“What are you doing here, Satan?” he asks, furiously wiping his glasses, as if he’ll be able to banish the sight of the Devil in a crude mimicry of his own outfit. Satan shrugged nonchalantly, with a grin so big Santa half expects to be eaten whole. It certainly looked… ominous. The barely disguised, unadulterated glee behind was even more so.

“I’ve been asked to deliver some Christmas presents!” he chirps, and Santa swears, if Satan’s smile was creepy, Satan chirping was horribly terrifying. Had he managed to overthrow God or something? He should just— wait. 

What?

“Little Emily has specifically requested for me, so you can just move along,” Satan says smoothly, leading Santa to the door. 

Santa finds himself standing next to his reindeer — who are coincidentally having a staring match with Cerberus and Hades, who are somehow perched on the roof — when he finally processes what’s going on — oh no. 

Immediately, he runs back into the house, making sure not to wake up the inhabitants of the house when he proceeds to have a whispering match with the Devil.

“Look, Satan,” he starts, trying his best to be reasonable. “You don’t have to strain yourself like this. I’m sure I can manage to cover the five kids who’ve accidentally written your name on their letter on my rounds. How about you just head back to Hell and, I don’t know, take a dip in one of your lava pools?” He was interrupted by a barely suppressed growl and oh, that was why people don’t usually like Satan; he mused as he was confronted by a rapidly reddening face and glaring red eyes. 

“She wrote to me, Santa.” Satan hisses, waving a piece of paper that’s somehow singed in a corner and covered with crayon but the word ��sAtAN’ is vaguely distinguishable in the top left corner. “Me.” Satan puffed his chest out in childish triumph. “Not you.”

Santa sighs, pinching his nose with a still soot-covered hand. Of course, this would happen.

“This happens every year, alright?” he says in an attempt to pacify the beast. “Some kid misspells my name, and the post office is usually smart enough to redirect it my way. One of them must have slipped up this year, and that’s why this happened.” 

This, however, seems to be the wrong thing to say, as steam metaphorically — or is it literally? — starts pouring out of the Devil’s pointed ears.

Santa quickly decides that he’s not paid enough to deal with Satan on top of delivering presents to another couple million houses before dawn — and that’s already five minutes he could’ve used to get that done wasted — and so he just roughly jerks the basket out of Satan’s hand before ruffling through his sack — a little girl would probably love a doll or something — when sharp needle like teeth latch onto the hand that was holding the basket.

Satan watches calmly as Santa frantically pries the teeth of the small creature off his finger.

“Down, pup.” he says once he’s decided Santa has had enough punishment — the insolent brat — and the creature obediently lets go, diving back into the basket before Santa can see what it is.

“It’s just a puppy,” Satan says soothingly. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”

“I suppose.” Santa concedes as he bandages his bleeding finger. “Now, no giving them anything inappropriate, alright? Or I’ll make sure never to let a single letter reach you again, no matter how many typos there are. Deal?”

Santa’s never seen the Devil grin so widely before. And so, he reluctantly allows Satan to leave his present at the Christmas tree. He supervises as Satan carefully leaves wrapped presents that look somewhat safe — a plastic sword, a teddy bear, a few figurines — under others. 

At last, all the houses have been visited and dawn is peeking across the horizon. Santa lays sprawled across a particularly overgrown roof as he watches the sunrise with his reindeer — and never in a million years would he ever imagine — Satan, Hades and Cerberus, who’s still staring at Rudolf, growling.

“This was a good year,” he says, satisfied with his work. After all, he managed to deliver all the presents, and on top of that, Satan didn’t burn anything down! It was an accomplishment in itself. “Next year, if you want, I’ll teach you how to make gifts, so you don’t have to buy them from stores.”

“Buy gifts?” Satan looks at him quizzically. “Why would I have to do that? I’ve practically got everything they could ask for stowed away somewhere in Hell. A sword was just plain easy. I did have to bribe Hephaestus to make some of the figurines, but it’s pure luck that Cerberus’ kit had pups this year.”

Santa feels a sinking sensation in his stomach as he processes this. 

“You did WHAT?!”

-vrei.essor

[mcrmadness]

So this is yet again one of those days when I remember why it sucks to be a non-German Die Ärzte fan. I always forget about this when nothing happens but I hade the same thing in 2012 when “auch” was released.

Barely no one in Finland knows about dä. Their music has never ever been played in the radio here (the only marking I could find was about their Kiss cover “Unheilig” but no idea when even was that and why and on which channel). Only times I have seen something on TV is when I have been watching Deutsche Welle and just once I happened to see some music document on a Finnish channel and it was talking about German music too and they talked a bit and showed a clip of Schrei nach Liebe. That’s all. I’ve also seen a mention of new interviews from today and I have no idea where to look from because nothing was on youtube and idk if those even were videos, so I guess I will just keep shrugging and waiting things like that to find themselves to Tumblr eventually. This is pretty much my only channel to the most relevant dä news anyway for me, apart from bademeister.com and their newsletter but even those don’t provide all that information. I also never got to see EVERY auch related interview because many of them were blocked in my country... and I still wish I could see them from somewhere.

Finland doesn’t really sell German music magazines anymore. The 4 posters I own were from the magazine called Popcorn and that magazine never was sold in my city so an online friend living in Lapland area bought and mailed those posters for me back in 2010 or so. Even now if I want my hands on any of the paper interviews I have to ask people living in German-speaking countries if they can buy and send me one (before I had no friends). No idea if you can order those online to be sent to your country, maybe that’s possible nowadays but I don’t think it was that common 10 years ago. Plus my German speaking skills back then were basically nonexistent.

I have preordered Hell already but I’m afraid I won’t get to enjoy it on Friday because I cannot just walk to a store and buy it here. Finland doesn’t sell die ärzte albums. I have bought everything through EMP Online because it’s one of the rare shops that also works in Finnish and Finland but they still always send these from their main storage from Germany which means it will take a little bit longer for me to get my order. Plus Finnish Posti being often slower than a snail which doesn’t help at all. And I’m pretty sure they will mail it on Friday unless they get the album a bit earilier and can mail it already before Friday - which then means I have to wait several days before I can give it a listen and look at it and I really would like to avoid spoilers AND I’m not going to give it a listen online beforehand because nothing is better than opening the album for the first time ever and looking at it in peace and hearing it from the cd, for the first time ever. I ordered both the cd and the LP which is why I’m thinking about maybe listening to it for the first time through my record player since I couldn’t do that with Morgens Pauken - the song and the video were released at midnight (1am in Finland) and the record was sent to me during Friday so I only got it the following week.

I miss the times when preordering something meant you actually also got it the day it was released, even if you ordered it online.

[mrneighbourlove]

Evil’s Bane: Ch 3. Onward and Forward

Sunny sat in silence for a while, miffed, but quiet as she gathered her thoughts. She was ready for work when Leere told her that she was having to go away. “I don’t like it.”

“I know.”

“What you want to do is dangerous.”

“It is.”

“Are you absolutely sure you have to do this? You said that being a sage would keep you in Hyrule. Can’t someone else do this?”

“No. I’m sorry. It has to be me.”

Sunny watched Joy play in living room, wincing at the thought of losing her wife. “What about our daughter?”

“I’m certain if I don’t go, you, our daughter, and so many others will be killed. I’ve foreseen this.”

Sunny pinched her forehead, sighing deeply. “Goddarn it.”

Leere gave her moment before holding her hand. “Sunny...”

“Don’t make a girl a promise if you know you can’t keep it.”

Leere smiled, waiting for her wife to look her in the eye. “You know me, when I make a promise.”

Sunny smiled back, yet her sadness was still there. “Well, we’ll be waiting.”

Standing up from the table, she looked to Joy. “Joy? Both your mommies are leaving for work. You’ll have Aunt Galaxia look after ya.”

“Ok. Love you both.” Joy ran up to hug both her mothers, with both women kneeling down to hug her back. Leere smiled, rubbing her daughter’s hair. “We love you too.”

As both moms walked out the door, they turned to each other, stole a kiss, and walked separate ways to their work. Now the only ones who knew Leere left was her wife. Heading back to the Hive, she stopped by a mail box, having a backup letter delivered to Zizi.

~

"Hades," The notorious assassin of the Hive, nicknamed 'Black' by Bonegrinder, appeared to the Lynel. He was rather curious why the summons. Usually, the Lynel avoided him, saying the scent of undeath was disgusting. "You called?"

“I did. I need someone who can protect and aid the shadow sage, as well as our leader when we venture to Malus.”

"... you do realize I am an assassin, not a guardian?" Black thought someone had rubbed the big cat's fur the wrong way to get him thinking such nonsense. "I will go if Bonegrinder requires me, though, I am a surprise he agreed to go to Malus."

“Only because of the girl. I don’t trust her. Another reason I’m asking you to go.” Hades rested a hand on his shoulder. “If you sense deception that could put Bonegrinder in grace mortal danger, I want you to execute her.”

"I will not hesitate to kill her if I sense ill will toward Bonegrinder." Black assured the Lynel. He had been with the Anagari almost as long as Blue and White. Bonegrinder had found him wandering a graveyard and managed to help him recover some of his memories. He felt he owed the Echidnan a great debt. "Or any other being. Including yourself."

“Your loyalty and lack of flare in order to work effectively is why I value you most in the Hive.”

"I am here to serve Bonegrinder. You may be his friend, but I am his assassin." Black stated with a stoic expression. "I owe him for helping me remember who I was, how I died, and if not for him, I would have been unable to get my revenge on those who wronged me. Now, since I am still here and trapped upon this earthly plane, I wish to be useful to him until the magic which keeps me this way runs out."

“That is all I and him ask of you Black. Now come, the witch approaches.” Leere navigated the Hive, this time escorted by Silver. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if she disliked him or Red more. Least Red was physically attractive.

But Red loved to talk. "You know, sweet thing, I could totally give you some tips on how to make that pretty wife of yours just squeal in bed." The incubus floated a few inches off the floor, puffing his long jade pipe. "You do know that if you do the Omishan alphabet with your tongue, then she'll be orgasming within seconds."

"Can you talk about anything other than sex?" Silver groaned as the incubus pestered Leere. "Like... maybe the weather for once?"

"The weather in the great down under is doing just fine." Red grinned. "Moist, warm, and ready."

"... remind me to never ask you that again."

Nope. Red was worse. “Please. Stop.” Leere rubbed her temple to clear a migraine.

"Leave the sage alone, Red, she does not require your lessons in nocturnal activities." Black told the incubus with an annoyed expression. "Go back to your whore houses."

"I just don't understand how she resists me and yet fell into the claws of those sisters." "I guess they're a better fuck than you." Silver snorted. "And how would she know? We haven't fucked yet!"

“Because they’d be better company before and after. Leave.”

"You're missing out, girlfriend, that's all I can say." Red then disappeared with a puff of smoke, leaving Black and Silver to waft it away out of the air.

Leere moved through the smoke to Bonegrinders chamber. She knew well enough it was by now.

The Anagari was rapidly puffing his own pipe from Red, angrily. Needless to say, the snake was very agitated. He had books thrown about, opened to various pages, and was cursing in Omishan.

“Bonegrinder? I’m ready if you are. Leere was decked out in her monster hunting robes, ready for cooler weather. She thought it best to open up to the serpent in a friendly mood.

"He is not going." The Anagari flicked his tail, taking a deep inhale of his pipe to calm his nerves. "Malus is a wasteland, nothing but death and decay and dangerous and demons---why did you agree to take her there, you idiot divinity?!"

A sudden shift of personality and glowing eyes revealed Prama once more. "I am Prama, the Maker, and those innocents inside of Malus deserve a chance to be free of the enemy---"

With a grunt, Bonegrinder returned. "And have you thought about what would happen to your precious prophecy, your beloved Kaksa's host, if you were to be caught?!"

"You mean if we were caught."

“You won’t be. We’ll be careful every step of the way.” Leere walked over, picking his books up. “You should keep better care of these.”

"He is researching how to expel this nuisance from his body."

"Your body? We share it, you overgrown sack of scales."

"He is not going!"

"Yes, you are!"

"You cannot make him!"

"Do you really want me to take over your body for the entire trip?"

"Don't you dare! You're such a pain in the ass!"

"The Shadow Sage requires our assistance and has made a good point. Kaksa would want us to continue to try to do good."

"Kaksa is the reason this whole mess started."

"You take that back!"

"Kiss his black scale-covered ass!"

The arguing was stopped when Leere took their hand. “Bonegrinder. Not only do I believe my own life is danger, but also my families and the people of Malus. I want my friend to be with me and have my back. Can I count on you?”

"Mother has warned you of Malus, he has warned you of Malus, and you still insist upon going?" The Anagari asked his friend. "What makes you so sure that he knows how to get in the country in the first place?"

“Because of your insistence of not going. You know.” Leere patted his hand, unable to be unswayed. “Please? For me?”

"Hrm... he does not like it when you beg him."

“I could go by myself you know. Take a lot longer. More danger too.”

"Now you are being a brat."

“Am I? I’m not the one throwing a fit with himself.” Leere shrugged. “Guess I better get going if I want to save those people.”

"Prama is not Bonegrinder and Bonegrinder is not Prama." The Anagari shook his finger at Leere. "Two souls, one body." He grumbled under his breath. "He does not like it that you did not speak to him first on this issue. Malus is a one-way ticket to hell on earth, Leere. He fears for your safety."

“And I my family Bonegrinder. This is me asking a friend to help me. Can I count on you?” Leere put her hands to her hips, waiting for her final answer.

"... he will go." Bonegrinder finally replied, not liking the fact that Leere was trapping him between a hard choice and an impossible task. "Though we will not stay but one day."

“Thank you. Then let’s be off.”

“Not without us.” Hades trotted over with Black, his hooves clipping silently. “We will accompany Bonegrinder for his safety.”

Leere didn’t expect a larger party. “Oh. I didn’t think this needed your attention.”

“Believe me, it does.”

"Hades, old friend, and Black, his trusted warrior, Malus is a country full of hellish monsters and those looking to steal your soul." Bonegrinder frowned. "He does not wish to put you two in harm's way."

"I have already departed this world once, Bonegrinder, I do not fear doing so again if it is to help you." Black stated. "You once helped me with no qualms. I am going to be by your side to look out for you when others fail to do so."

“And I am a monster among monsters. None can kill me so easily.”

"And you may be the last of your kind." Bonegrinder asked the Lynel. "Would you have this Anagari be responsible for the death of the last, great Lynel?"

“Don’t worry old friend, you won’t.” Sheer-Khan patted the snake on the shoulder. “But let us make this quick so that the woman’s quest does not delay us from our tasks here.”

"Hrm, are you using this as an excuse to get away from Red for a while? We both know the incubus would love to have a roll in the sheets with you." Bonegrinder chuckled, not passing up an opportunity to lightly tease his friend. "We must be able to stay together or at least know where the other is in case of danger." The Anagari plucked three of his scales. "Consume these and he will know where you are if he has to create portals to get us out of harm's way or if we are somehow separated."

They all took them, nodding. Leere gripped her shadow medallion, giving herself assurance. “When you’re ready.”

"He must warn you all. While creating portals is an easy task with the right magic, keeping them open is another. If he says we go through then, we go then. Not later. Are we all clear?" "Yes, Bonegrinder." Black replied.

“You need not ask twice.” Hades replied.

“I understand.” Leere said in turn.

"Stay together and do not wander off." Bonegrinder pricked Leere's and Hade's fingers and took a single hair from Black since he only had dead blood. Then he started working on the portal.

"This old snake will be very limited with his magic when we arrive. The last thing he wants is trouble. If we do not find what Leere seeks within a day, we are coming back."

Leere nodded in agreement. She wasn’t going to disagree with her friend. As the portal opened, she steeled herself for what would come ahead.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/625816111410233344/evils-bane-ch-2-obligation

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/625816676434313216/evils-bane-ch-4-dangerous-uncharted-territory

[hanistarxx]

Against Elysium - Chapter 2

A Modern Greek Mythology AU with Fem!Hades & Fem!Persephone

Summary: All Omisha ever knew was death. She has never felt the warmth of the sun or the breeze of a stormy wind. She has never seen beauty in her kingdom of desolation, or heard the soothing music of assurance. Seraphina wanted to change that. All in the name of love. And Gods forbid anyone who dared to separate them. For if anyone did,a war is what would become of it.

Pairings: Zoe Kravitz x Adria Arjona (Fem!Hades x Fem!Persephone) 

Warnings: None, Slight mention of murder

Word Count: 1.5K

Against Elysium - Masterlist

"YOU want to tell me what is happening out there?"

Omisha sat in her office, her body posture straight against her chair, her eyes burning holes into the screen ahead of her.

"I was kicking Thana's ass again - "

"I meant on Earth, Chavez," she replied seethingly, annoyed at the displaced immaturity of her trusted advisor.

Her face contorted, displaying one of confusion and anger. Dealing with souls and passing out their judgement was no easy feat. Yet the task was given to her, and she aimed to accomplish it.

Omisha couldn't help but notice the increase in the number of souls collected per day. It used to border around a hundred deaths per day in New York alone. Today, it's value rose up to 257.

"257 dead bodies in New York," she whispered. "Pull up the demographics."

Naya quickly tapped onto her tablet at the order. In just a few seconds, the information was mirrored onto the display screen in front of them.

"Murders, Your Majesty. 52% of them," Naya stated.

Omisha stood up from her chair and placed her hands behind her back. She stepped forward towards William, her eyebrows raised questioningly.

"I didn't kill them," he defended himself, quickly. "I didn't even know they were murdered. They just looked like they were sleeping."

"So you're saying that these people died in their sleep?" Naya questioned.

"Maybe it was a heart attack?" William suggested. "Some people get heart attacks in their sleep and die."

Naya stared at him, as if he grew another head, "130 people had a heart attack-"

"If it were heart attacks, then the cause of death would be sickness, not murder," Omisha stated. "Do we have any claims as to who the murderer is?"

Both Naya and William shook their heads.

She turned to Naya, "Highlight this to Victor. Set up a meeting for us and get Israel to come too. Maybe he can help us with finding whoever this bitch is."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Naya clicked away on her phone as she walked out of the office. William sat himself down on a nearby sofa.

"Why are you so worked up about this? I thought you didn't care about mortals?" he questioned. 

In all the years they had spent in the Underworld, they were used to dealing with murders. Every once in a while, there would be cases of serial killers on the loose.

Victor and Damien had to come down on Earth to personally demolish the criminals. And when they were sent to Hell? Omisha wasted no time in executing their punishments.

But the Gods had not dealt with a murderer in years.

"I'm a bitch, but I'm not heartless. And these are innocent lives, they don't deserve this shit," she said.

William propped his feet onto the table and relaxed further into the sofa. Omisha turned her head to her advisor, her glance fleeting back and forth between him and his feet.

With a heavy groan, Will took his feet off reluctantly, while Omisha turns to grab her phone and exit the office.

"I'm going to meet Styx. If there really is a murderer, I want updates," she informs.

William proceeds to place his legs back on the table after she left but stops mid way when he heard her yell.

"If you want your legs chopped off Chavez, put your feet on my furniture!"

----------

"WHAT'S up flower girl?"

It had been a few days since her meetup with Illyana. Seraphina was sitting on the porch swing, reading a book, when Jacob, whom she dearly missed, arrived.

Jacob Kingsley was the God of Travels, or as Seraphina would like to call him, the universal mailman.

"Nothing much, mailman."

Jacob's face turned into one of pure misery. Seraphina loved spending time with Jacob whenever he came around. He was always oozing happiness and cheerfulness. Having spent her whole life in her mother's realm, she travels the world through his stories.

Of course, she had traveled before but going to the grocery store then back, on her mother's behest was not really what Seraphina wished upon herself. She wanted more.

At the sound of teenage chatter, Isabela came to the door, a soft warm smile plastered on her ageless face.

"Mrs. Narvaes, nice to see you looking beautiful as ever," Jacob flirted, "I've got some mail for you."

Isabela took the letters from him and noticed that he was still holding another piece of neatly folded paper in his other hand. Jacob turned to Seraphina and handed that to her.

"This one's for you, girl. It's from Israel," he said. Seraphina happily took the letter from him and kept it within her book. Her mother, on the other hand, eyed them suspiciously.

"Why would Israel send you a letter?" Isabela questioned.

"I don't have a phone for me to receive texts from him. Plus, you don't let me go anywhere outside of Bronxville so I can't meet him, he has to come here. And he's been busy, I guess or he would have visited instead of sending me a letter," Seraphina snapped, tired at the fact that her mother questions everything she does.

Isabela stood up straighter and was about to reprimand her daughter when Jacob laughed awkwardly, intervening them.

"Mrs. Narvaes, do you mind if Seraphina and I go for a walk? We'll just be around here," he asked, trying to break the tension between the mother and daughter, hoping to separate them from each other before someone got killed.

Isabela sighed and nodded at the young God's suggestion, knowing that being angry was not a good idea. As the pair of teenagers walk off, Isabela couldn't help but wonder if maybe, she had been too strict with Seraphina.

Maybe, she should trust her daughter, trust that she can take care of herself. That she didn't need to helicopter around her anymore.

Seraphina mumbled an apology to Jacob, as they walked around her garden. She felt humiliated with putting her friend in a weird situation.

"Nah girl, I'm alright. It's you I'm worried about. I can barely imagine how suffocating it can be to stay here all the time," he said.

Jacob sympathized with her. He had the freedom he deserved while she didn't. Seraphina was a well-behaved young lady who was way more responsible than she likes to take credit for. Seeing her cooped up in one place her entire life did not sit well with him. It was not fair for her.

"I'm okay, I'm used to it. Just hoping that someday, I can get to travel with you or go hunting with Illyana or go to one of Israel's party that's not here. To just go somewhere else," she sighed.

Jacob couldn't muster any words to say, therefore he merely nodded at his friend. There were times where he wanted to sneak her out for the night and return her in the morning before Isabela would wake up but Seraphina would always refuse. She insisted that if she ever wanted to go anywhere, she would always ask for her mother's permission.

It was the one thing that made all the Gods and Goddesses who knew her, like her. She had a little spunk in her but she also had a whole lot of love and respect for anyone she deemed deserving of it.

The two friends caught up with each other with what they had been up to in the few days they were apart, as they walked back to her cottage. Seraphina turned to hug him goodbye and he could see that she didn't want him to leave yet. Unfortunately Jacob had more letters to send out and had to get going.

Isabela noticed that her daughter was upset too and before she knew it, she spoke, 

"Jacob, why don't you bring Seraphina with you today? I'm sure you both could use the company."

Both the kids, turned to her, eyes wide and full of confusion. They were both taken aback, Seraphina more than Jacob. Sure her mother had given her permission to go out before, but to be out the whole day, she was sure the day would never come. Yet there they were, shocked, her jaw dropping to the ground. 

"You okay, Mrs.Narvaes? Did you sniff a little too much of that Cannabis plant, you been growin'?" Jacob spouted.

"Yeah, Mama? Are you alright?" she asked.

Isabela rolled her eyes and shooed them off. It was her form of apology for doubting her daughter earlier. She turned to Jacob and instructed him to bring her daughter back before ten, later in the night. Without saying anything else, she strode off to her greenhouse.

Jacob and Seraphina turned back to look at each other and hurried off before Isabela turned around to change her mind. Seraphina skipped beside Jacob, showcasing a dazzling smile.

"Are we flying?" she asked enthusiastically. Jacob looked at her and laughed.

"I ain't about to heave your heavy ass across town," he said incredulously. 

"We're taking my car, sis," he continued, motioning to his 2016 Ford Shelby Mustang.

Seraphina then questioned where they were going as the both of them nestled comfortably in the car. Jacob looked around outside to see if Isabela was anywhere nearby. Once the coast was clear, he turned to his friend to speak, mischief filled his eyes.

"How good are you at telling lies?"

----------

tag list: @futureauthor-mabye @artwriteanimationinspo 

----------

Chapter 3

[assortedfruitsnacks212]

I miss you, Tumblr! + Life update on stuff and things

Heyyyyy everyone. I figured it was high time I made a proper post talking about, well, everything that’s happened since I stopped posting so much. I don’t like that I disappeared - this site was where I discovered Reylo and made some truly awesome friends. So I want to stick around, you know? And I do hope to come back more often from now on. It’s just hard juggling so many social media platforms...

But ANYWAY. I promised an update, so here we go.

1. I’m moving across the country!

That’s right ladies and gents, I’m fleeing the New Jersey coop for my old hometown of Huntsville, AL. 

Why, you ask? Well, Huntsville is very much a city of the future. As the home of NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center (where they built the Saturn V rockets!) Huntsville has earned the well-deserved moniker "Rocket City USA." It's also undergoing a huge economic boom, which has led to a thriving arts community.

New Jersey? Eh.

I'm tired of just treading water and not making headway toward my dreams. I’ll talk about those dreams a bit more in this post. Needless to say, they’re very, very important to me.

So I'm not settling anymore. In August/September, I'm packing up shop and heading down south. It's the start of something new, and I can’t wait.

2. I started a Patreon for my passion project, and it’s going well <3

My passion project, The Oracle Fragment, has been the one thing I’ve returned to over and over again for the past 10+ years. Late last year I decided to step up my commitment by starting a Patreon. I’ve only done a soft launch so far, and I’m already at 38 Patrons :) It’s been a rewarding month!

My official launch is scheduled for Wednesday, February 27. I’ll be celebrating with a Twitch stream with fun games, sketch requests, and maybe a little giveaway ;) The stream starts at 9pm EST. Let me know if you want to come - as you know, I take Reylo requests ;)

3. I’ve returned to my roots: pencil drawing!

A friend of mine convinced me to do some traditional drawing again, and I’m so glad he did. I’d forgotten how lovely it is to put pencil to paper. Also, I know I’m far better at it than I am at digital sketching. So I’m gonna let myself indulge a bit - and maybe even find a way to marry my pencil art TO my digital art. People do it all the time, I hear ;)

People who are waiting on commissions: if you want me to sketch your ideas traditionally, shoot me a message and let’s talk about it! If I do a pencil sketch for you, I can actually mail it to you OR to the friend of your choice. Shipping is free! (unless it’s international in which case we’ll discuss it) @reylorianlovechild @immortalpen @faithren @rebelrebelreylo @jesssssah

4. I’m putting my art in local stores

My favorite stores in Woodstown, Barney Loves Books and the Woodstown Coffee Shop and Bakery, have agreed to let me display my art on their premises. I’m REALLY excited and also a little overwhelmed :) I’m gonna start small, with just a basket of prints and originals... BUT who knows where it could go from here :) 

If you’re in the Woodstown area, come take a look sometime! Woodstown is about 40 minutes away from Philadelphia. As a bonus, we could even meet - just message me and we’ll go get coffee from the bakery!

5. I’m raising money for Star Wars Celebration

I bought Saturday passes for my husband and me some time ago. Now it’s time for me to either (A) raise the money for travel and lodging, or (B) sell the tickets to someone else. :p For a while I was leaning toward just selling them, but hell, it would be SO nice to go, if only for a day! So I’m going to give it a shot. Keep an eye out for commission openings (once my current ones are finished) and other cool stuff!

6. I’m doing more portrait work

Again, this is all because my friends and family convinced me to... BUT I’ve decided to make a whole-assed attempt at making my portrait work a thing. I’m printing up brochures to display with my art, and I’ve revamped my listings on Etsy.

Portraits are my strongest point, after all. There’s something about the human face that utterly enchants me, and people tell me I have the ability to capture the subject’s heart and soul on paper. I’ve decided to believe them. :)

If you’ve been thinking about commissioning a portrait of a friend, family member, or other loved one (including fictional loves *coughKylocough*), you can go to my Etsy here, or just message me here on Tumblr.

Speaking of Etsy...

7. I’m adding lots more stuff to my Etsy store

I haven’t done much with Etsy since last summer, and it’s time I fixed that. Over the weekend, I FINALLY added a print option for Elf lord Kylo Ren (!!), and I’m about to add merch for him, too. Oh, and I just ordered fine art prints of Elven Kylo and Hades and Persephone Reylo so I can put out hand-embellished versions of them!! That’s where I paint on the prints with gold or silver so they look extra shiny and pretty. You can see a pic of my embellished Art Nouveau Padme here.

Other plans I have for my Etsy: 

- add pillow inserts to my custom pillows - add MORE fanart - add MORE originals

If you have ideas for other things I can add to my Etsy, please let me know! Especially if it’s Reylo things ;) 

8. I’m starting a regular Twitch stream with an art/storytelling focus

I’ve wanted to be a Twitch streamer for a long time, but I could never figure out what to do, exactly. Just recently, inspiration hit me like a bolt of lightning:

I want my stream to be all about storytelling.

Life gets crazy, depressing, and devoid of magic sometimes. I want to bring a little of that magic back by creating an intentional space outside of daily life for imagination and exploration. Dreaming, brainstorming, chasing plot bunnies, painting, sketching, talking deep subjects, and playing games - these will all be welcome activities in my magic circle. So if that sounds good to you, come make magic with me <3

My inaugural stream will be Saturday, February 23 at noon EST. After that, I hope to stream at least 3 times a week in the afternoons.

---

As for Reylo stuff...

Believe me, though I’ve been absent from Tumblr, I’ve never, EVER stopped thinking about Reylo. And I haven’t forgotten about any of my ongoing Reylo fics and projects!

I’ll make a separate post about that, though. I’ve talked your ear off quite enough for one post ;)

I’ve missed you all. If the urge strikes you, PLEASE come and see hi. I’d love to hear from you!

@reylocalligraphy @reylo-convert @enjoyallneednothing-blog @raven-maiden @obsessivepropulsive @ever-so-reylo @monsterleadmehome @reylolujah @pacificwanderer @dreamsdescent @faequeentitania @thewayofthetrashcompactor @deafield @dvrkrey @reylotrashpiler @recklessdarkness @cosmo-gonika @aionimica @creationsvixen @collegefangirl3791 @inmyownidiom @midnightbluefox

[keytextsfromkh]

Dream Drop Distance: Traverse Town

- I like how at this point, they're not even trying to pretend to be a fun and happy game. This is third act-Disney movie shit and two people are already dead.

- ...My name is...Bongo.

- No, I prefer Bongo. Sounds more fun and fancy free.

- And that's when you realized that everything up to this point was nothing more than a simulation on the "What if?" Machine. A man can dream...a man can dream.

- Yeah, when we're out in the middle of the ocean, we'll just call Aquaman and he'll save us...he's owned by Disney right?

- (Ursula’s Arrival) Sora, it has begun...it cannot be stopped.

- Wow, Riku's kind of a weakling, when /Sora's/ able to keep his footing and you're tossed overboard, that's pretty bad.

- It's ok Riku, that's just Hades releasing the Titans from...well, Hades. (Where were the Titans held prisoner in the movie?)

- That's got to be a low point in Ursula's career, when she's nothing more than a tutorial boss and doesn't really have story relavance.

- Now /this/ is the time when you should be asking if any of this is for real or not.

- And that question is: How do they get the little m's on the m&m's.

- I suppose that's an interesting question too...show off.

- If that were the case then the challenges of my past have just gave my darkness a huge advantage in /that/ battle.

- (Regarding Xehanort) He's basically Ganon, he'll always come back to fuck us over even if the plot doesn't call for it.

- Well I'm here to tell you that you're not to be cocky little shits and you'll be considered Keyblade Masters when /I/ tell you, you got that you little whippersnappers? God, I'm tired, Mickey, get my walking stick and Donald, get the liniment oil, you're going to be rubbing it into my creases all night.

- Well it is a mix between Disney and Final Fantasy, I'm sure flying colours won't be the strangest thing to appear.

- So Sora opens a keyhole and now he's what, flying through the subspace highway?

- I've had my clothes changed once before and yet I'm still freaked out that it's happened again.

- (Neku’s Arrival) Oh thank god, some much required emo cynicism.

- Maybe it's under his glove, have you thought of that.

- I'm so toally a player, I've been with all the bitches and I can do like 5 Fortnite dances flawlessly.

- This must be Neku's own personal hell, although considering his partner is (probably) Shiki, this is like double hell.

- I'm loving the music although I'm hating the controls, why isn't X jump, it seems kind of backwards.

- Wow, someone with an actual last name, you really aren't from this world are you?

- I mean if I can handle Pokemon, I think I can handle their Disney counterparts.

- And there's my dirty mind at work again. You're telling me that I have to "unlock" seven sleeping holes to gain a great power. It's a good thing I'm not easily offended/paranoid or I'd think that this game was secretly promoting date rape.

- A great wall keeping all the worlds seperate? Again, it's probably a good thing this game originally came out in 2012 or it would be quite suspect.

- (Young Xehanort pulls some sick parkour moves) You said specifically, no over the top acrobatics to prove how cool you are.

- Obstacles: Breakable except when they're not.

- Joshua: King of innuendos.

- Oh god, Joshua's about to spend an hour talking about the multiple worlds theory.

- He wants to find Rhyme but Riku wants to hear reason.

- (What Joshua spends his time dreaming of) And they all centre around one adorable little crankypants

- If Riku is a dreamer, would that make Joshua a dreamweaver and can he get Riku through the night, maybe even reach the morning light?

- At least they don't give you another tutorial.

- Who knew Beat required a self-esteem team and who knew they would be so cute and colourful.

- Ok, I'm calling it now, the Sleeping Worlds don't have oxygen, they have a constant atmosphere of xanax.

- In hindsight, considering the powers of the X-Blade and the requirements of it's construction, this could be seen as a very bad idea and those who came up with it should have been fired.

- So the moral of the story is: Piracy causes giant universe-shattering wars.

- So Riku was just using the keyblade for it's intended purpose, he really wasn't a villain, he was just doing what felt natural.

- Wait, so the letterbox is alive? What other things in this place are alive?

- So, this is the mail room from Monster's Inc.?

- Anyone else think "Ice Dream cone" sounds like an edible? Like it's laced with LSD?

- So it looks like we've entered the residential district of Traverse Town and considering the graffiti, the fact that part of it is obviously based on The World Ends With You and the idea of how Sleeping Worlds operate, I think this is a part of Disney that they want to ignore, it's a part of them that fell into Darkness and they want it to linger there, it's early 90s Disney. In this twisted town, we won't meet Goofy, we'll meet Max from Goof Troop, we won't see Huey,Dewey and Louie from DuckTales, it'll be their iterations from Quack Pack and I think I know who the final boss of this world will be. Someone who represents the 90s and all things EXTREME! Someone who's connected to Disney but is nothing more than a twisted, vulgar imiation of the real form. This final boss will be Dippy Fresh.

- I will say the new parts of Traverse Town look amazing, it's like they really get that mix of SE's anime stylings and Disney's wonder and magic.

- Again, as I've said before, Sora's just one huge OCD bubble.

- Where the fuck was Rhyme during Chain of Memories, she loses her memories and acts like it's no big deal and then starts talking in fortune cookie sayings.

- So Sora has teleporting powers now? Is that another little extra when in the sleeping worlds?

- Seriously, the music is really damn good in this, the boss music may be a lot more upbeat than in previous games but it has this carnival-like heroic vibe going for it.

- Well it still is Disney so I guess "friend" is the best we can do for now.

- We're pulling an Inception here Sora, please try to keep up.

- (Joshua’s a very humble person) I'm God, it's no biggie really.

- It's Xehanort: The Wonder Years

- (Regarding Shiki being saved by Riku) You could at least let me give you a blowjob as payment.

- I guess after Selphie pulled a #metoo on Tidus, Riku isn't taking any chances.

- Unless this is a Proud Mode thing, one major issue I'm already having with this game is that there are too many enemies. Like I know you can run into a pack of monsters every 5 steps but this is overdoing it just a tad. It doesn't help that we're already fighting some of the heavy hitters in the first world rather than waiting a world or two before bringing in the fat fuckers.

- Oh fuck, he turned her into a cat doll.

- (Beat knows when things are half-baked) If anyone would know anything about being baked, it's you.

- Speaking of which, where are the reapers? They could bring some much needed fun right about now.

- Now that's a smart idea, let's take a huge boss with huge arms and put the fight in a small room where it can grab shit and whack you with them.

- Now there's a missed opportunity, why do Sora and Riku get the same Keyblades, it would have been interesting if each one got their own unique keyblade based on how their story in that world plays out.

- So Joshua is Sin from Final Fantasy X?

- Ok, that spinning thing is kind of distracting and kind of dumb

- Joshua died on his way to his home planet.

- (Yen Sid can be really dick-ish sometimes) I'm kind of a dick that way.  

[kellysbookblog]

"A love story with teeth and claws. I dare you not to fall in love with Cillian Fitzpatrick." - USA Today bestselling author, Parker S. Huntington

The Villain, an all-new twisted modern day Greek tragedy from USA Today and #1 Amazon bestselling author L.J. Shen is available now!

Cruel. Coldblooded. Hades in a Brioni suit. Cillian Fitzpatrick has been dubbed every wicked thing on planet earth. To the media, he is The Villain. To me, he is the man who (reluctantly) saved my life. Now I need him to do me another, small solid. Bail me out of the mess my husband got me into. What’s a hundred grand to one of the wealthiest men in America, anyway? Only Cillian doesn’t hand out free favors. The price for the money, it turns out, is my freedom. Now I’m the eldest Fitzpatrick brother’s little toy. To play, to mold, to break. Too bad Cillian forgot one, tiny detail. Persephone wasn’t only the goddess of spring; she was also the queen of death. He thinks I’ll buckle under the weight of his mind games. He is about to find out the most lethal poison is also the sweetest.

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Excerpt

I leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked in my front pockets, and observed. It took her three minutes to notice me. Another two to lift her jaw off the floor, straighten her spine, and turn scarlet. Our eyes met across the room, and that nagging murmur in my chest happened again. Get that checked. If you drop dead from a heart attack at forty, you’ll have no one else to blame. She winced, looking like I physically slapped her. “Mr. Fitzpatrick.” “Miss Penrose.” “Veitch,” she corrected, just to spite me. “Not for long,” I noted dryly. “A word?” “I know many. My favorite one right now is—leave.” “You want to hear me out.” I cracked my knuckles. “Now say goodbye to your little friends.” She looked back and forth between the kids and me, then turned and murmured something to the teacher next to her, and hurried my way, dunking her head down. “What are you doing here?” She closed the door behind her, whisper-shouting. I’ve been asking myself the same question since bailing on Keith and his snooze-fest speech. What the hell was I doing here?

About L.J. Shen

L.J. Shen is a USA Today, Washington Post and Amazon #1 best-selling author of contemporary, New Adult and YA romance. Her books have been sold to twenty different countries.

She lives in California with her husband, son, cat and eccentric fashion choices, and enjoys good wine, bad reality TV shows and catching sun rays with her lazy cat.

Connect with L.J. Shen Facebook: http://bit.ly/2OhSvp1 Twitter: http://bit.ly/36ELHZc Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2oMbFsu Instagram: http://bit.ly/2AIOiTo Stay up to date with L.J. Shen by signing up for her mailing list: http://bit.ly/36MnmAQ Website: http://www.authorljshen.com/

[sending-the-message]

Finding Veronica - Silence by Distant_claws

I know it’s late and I know some of you have asked a lot of the questions in the comments. So I’ll answer those first.

Veronica and I met quite serendipitously by accident, hell, I thought I was in a movie. It felt like it happened in slow motion. I was in the city on some work and just stepped out of the hotel I was staying in to grab some dinner and maybe a couple of drinks. I was waiting to cross the road when I saw that familiar face, that gorgeous blonde hair, shining under the streetlight, the blue eyes which lit up the moment it met mine. I could recognize that beautiful face from a mile.

Apparently Veronica lives close by and works out of her mom’s home / office. After a quick call with her mom, she invited me for dinner and to stay at her place that night so we could bring each other up to speed. That’s where I asked her permission to update her story. Veronica seems to have focussed on finding her footing in her career and helping her mother. Between us, I was really glad she wasn’t seeing anyone.

Another one is, we grew up in the nineties / early 2000s. I can assure you that there were no security cameras or whatever in our school parking lot then. Maybe, they might have some now. I don’t know. I don’t think I have gone to school in a long time to know about that.

So, after we aired out each of our stories, we realized we had important things to figure out:

a. What was her mom doing / attempting to do? How did her mom die?

b. What is it that is haunting / affecting Veronica’s condition? How can we help her get rid of it? Why can I alone hear the sound of the rattling of chains when I am near her?

c. What happened that day? Who killed Kevin and saved the both of us?

By the time we finished talking about each other’s side of the stories, it was pretty late. So, I went to sleep in a gorgeous guest room Veronica’s mom had graciously provided for my stay. I had told her about putting up the place up on Air BnB or something because it was gorgeous and had three or so guest rooms, but she brushed it off saying that some of the things in her house were too personal for her to.

That night I had vivid nightmares of walking through a dark corridor with the rattling of chains that kept me walking straight done to a passage way that had room like compartments on either side. In each compartment were men who held Veronica captive in various forms. However, I could only watch the horrors and continue walking straight not able to move in any other direction.

One was of a winged man, blonde hair like Veronica herself and he had hung her by head with some sort of a metal band attached to the ceiling that went around her forehead. He was cutting off her ears. Another guy, a silver haired man, had her suspended by her arms and legs, spread out. He was also cutting her ears off. The rattling of chains kept growing closer and closer until I reach the center, where ahead of me, in the throne was Veronica, sitting on her throne and another Veronica, on all four legs like a dog, chained to the throne, trying to walk away, only to rattle the chains repeatedly. I woke up when I made eye contact with the Veronica on all four legs.

We got breakfast and I was quiet for the most part, reeling in from the effects of my excitement-fuelled nightmares. Both Veronica and I had to head to work that day and that’s what we did. I didn’t do much there though, in anticipation of what would happen that night and if we could find the answers to the questions we were looking for. I went up to my hotel room to grab a change of clothes and headed to Veronica’s house. I had all but forgotten my nightmares and my mundane work. My head was giddy with excitement and beyond all, I just wanted to see her again. So consumed was I by this desire that I didn’t notice that she wasn’t home when I went in going straight to the kitchen looking for her.

I searched through every room and I couldn’t find her. Her calls went straight to voicemail and she wasn’t responding to texts either. Her mom didn’t know for sure which client Veronica was visiting that day (they split their clientele) and wasn’t much help. She didn’t understand why I was so worked up. My thoughts kept running back to the image of Veronica kept as a dog, her eyes pleading me to help and rattling her chains in order to escape her hell. It must have been playing in my head for quite a while, that I almost didn’t realize that I heard the rattling of chains right next to me.

I jumped up from the chair I almost passed out in only to find Veronica apologizing for being late. Apparently a client meeting ran late and she didn’t have any charge on her phone or something. I didn’t wait for her to finish. I just hugged her and told her it was going to be okay. It wasn’t until quite a few minutes later that I noticed she hadn’t hugged me back. I pulled back and apologized to her. I mean I had only just met her after years and even back then, I only knew her for a week. Had I even considered her feelings?

I pulled away to look at her face to see her eyes locked on to nothing in particular. It was as if she was in a trance. It was only after I shook her by the shoulders screaming her name that she came to. She was in tears and ran back to her room crying. I ran after her, apologizing but her mom stopped me half-way and went in to her room, after her. I sunk to my knees on the floor and thought once again, about why I was such a failure.

They both emerged after a couple of hours, Veronica still in tears. She came and hugged me and while I returned the hug, she immediately pulled back and then went in for another hug. She repeated this a few times and signed “This is not like before.” As much as I wanted to help her, I was completely lost. She said, when I hugged her earlier, she didn’t hear the rattling of chains. For the first time in her life, since her life in the trailer park, Veronica felt complete silence.

We tried recreating it a few times, but both of us constantly heard the rattling of chains, mine soft and hers deafeningly loud, as usual. Unclear as to what had produced the effect, we regretfully let it go for now and decided to do some research to find some answers. Her mom offered to help her. In the couple of hours in her room, Veronica’s mom was informed of our strange connection and the day which started her nightmare. She also agreed to help out with any information needed.

So we started with questioning her, first. Veronica’s mom is, her distant ‘aunt’. Her mother and veronica’s grandmother were sisters, growing up in the same family in Europe. They both left Europe around the time Hitler went crazy. We traced back and found that she was some part Romanian, some part Russian, some part Austrian and some part gypsy. I have no idea if this information would be useful, but I noted everything down and am posting it here, in case you guys can help make a connection. I also found it interesting that only Veronica and her great grandmother were blonde women and there was one blonde man (grandmother’s uncle) who Veronica’s mom knew of. She remembered some stories of her great grandmother’s mother meeting with an untimely death but rumor has it that her husband killed her thinking that she cheated on him (since both her kids were blonde but neither of them were). She didn’t know much about it other than that. With the information we gathered, we scourged the sources of the internet to find no particularly useful information.

Veronica also crudely drew some of the symbols she used to see in her grandmother’s books when she was a child and one of them that she recognized was something like a small circle with a chalice like shape surrounding it. Another was the letters P and L together. Another looked like a plus and a “C” from the bottom edge of the plus. We saw that these letters might mean hell or Hades or Pluto or something. Nothing much beyond was revealed from that night of research. Thinking about those nights must have been hard on Veronica because she seemed even more drained than usual.

After a positively tiring night, we went to sleep in our rooms. Once again, I had dreams of Veronica and that passage-way. This time though, I looked at the Veronica in the throne. Her eyes were completely black and she had the most evil smirk. Her entire demeanor changed when our eyes met and her face twisted into a scowl. I woke up and spent the rest of the morning avoiding eye-contact with anyone.

Today again, all three of us had to head out to work. However, I asked Veronica where she was headed and by when she’ll be back. Her mom gave me some spare keys and told me I could come in straight after work since she also had to work. I did what was absolutely necessary for my work to get done and then headed back to her house to continue the research. I must have dozed off as I awoke to Veronica’s mother shaking me awake around eight PM. Veronica was not home yet (she was supposed to get home by 6 PM) and she left her client’s office at 5 PM. All calls are going straight to voice mail and the texts are not yet read.

We have since been looking everywhere for her. Her mom has gone to the police while I am going to go rent a car and look for her on my own. I am posting this here in the hopes that someone can help me process all of this and if you feel you might have any idea where she might have gone, please let me know.

[bad0mens]

Title: Pas de Deux II - Act III

Pairings: Fluri

Warnings: Unbeta’edness

Authors’ Notes: And part 3 rounds out this part of the story. Tomorrow will be the Encore.

Disclaimer: Tales of Vesperia is the property of Namco Bandai.

Don't make me wait forever. Yuri rolled to face the back of the sofa, pressing his head into it. I hope you haven't been waiting long. But Yuri had always been waiting. He had never stopped waiting. This was better. This was for the best. Maybe he could just let go and stop. He couldn't handle this anymore. It was too painful, too heavy for him to bear. Wait for me.

"No."

He thought a few days would ease the ache. It didn't. They're relationship hadn't gone on that long. Not even a year and already the squeezing of that thorny vine around his heart was inescapable. No amount of practice or time at the gym or sleep gave him even a moment's reprieve. This was disgusting. This was disheartening. This was unfair. And all because Flynn had used those three words, those three words that threatened to tear him open and lay him bare, those three words that burned and ached and cut and shredded him again and again. He could hear them even now, above the blood pounding in his ears, above the screech of the music. It had already been days. Why did this still haunt him? Why were those blue eyes still too bright, too radiant to even imagine? Why did this hurt so much?

Nothing helped, so he tried even harder between work and sleep, drove himself further. He had to have been nearly mastered the part of Hades about now. Hades, who dragged pure and radiant Cora down into hell and changed her.

Avoiding Flynn's texts and calls had been hard to do. It had been reflexive to answer and he had to force himself to put the phone down or ignore it each time. They came panicked at first, worried and angry and sorry voice mails filling up his inbox, but they thankfully slowed as the days passed. Yuri had to avoid the places they frequented together at the risk of catching Flynn there. He hadn't even been to Tolbyccia Pizza. Flynn would have looked for him there, and if he wasn't there actively, he would have left word with Don. Yuri was surprised that he hadn't bothered coming by the studio. Either way, Flynn would eventually give up and move on. The longer he waited, the more painful he made it for himself. If he was smart, he would get the hint and be gone before Yuri had a chance to second guess himself.

"Yuri, are you all right?"

Estelle's voice snapped his consciousness back as he lowered her from a lift.

She took a step back, one hand still firmly on his upper arm and her green eyes fixed on his face in concern. "You don't look so well."

"I'm fine." He didn't shrug her off. She would have been suspicious.

"Why don't we take a break? You look tired."

"I said I'm fine." The crack in his voice was going to give him away, but he maintained eye contact with her. "We don't have a lot of time. The show opens the day after tomorrow."

"It'll just be a short break. You've practiced hard enough." She didn't allow him to argue, instead pulling him behind her.

They changed and she led him to a quaint tea room a block away from the studio.  They came here together occasionally, and he knew that she frequented this place with Rita. This was a place where Flynn would not bother to come looking. They were seated by a window and were presented with a tray of quartered sandwiches and squares of cake and a pot of tea.

It was very quiet for a few moments while Estelle poured them each a cup. She was waiting, biding her time before speaking. He could see it in her eyes. She had something that she was burning to say, and the moment it came out, he wished that he had misheard.

"So, Flynn called me the other day."

"Can we not?"

"Yuri, please. He's worried about you. I'm worried about you. Things haven't been the same since he was scouted for that major league team." She paused and waiting for a response that didn't come. "This is about Slyvarant, isn't it?"

He wanted to lie, but the truth came out instead. "Something like that."

"What--"

"Please, believe me when I say I only want the best for him."

"But what about you? Are you really all right with this?"

"It's better this way. I have no intention of standing between Flynn and his dream."

"And if you're a part of that dream?"

"Then Flynn's a bigger idiot than I thought."

He had been shocked at first by the key left on the nightstand beside his bed, but that quickly faded into anger. He had thrown it at some point and where it was now didn't matter. As the days between that night wore on, it started to.

Flynn hadn't looked for the key, but he had looked for Yuri. He had made every attempt to contact him beyond showing up at the studio where Yuri worked. He looked for Yuri at the gym and at restaurants they frequented. He was no where to be seen. Flynn had made no small effort to contact him via phone, but all of his texts and calls went unanswered. He could only rely on Estelle now, who had offered to speak with Yuri. He wasn't sure what good that would do, but maybe something would come of it. As it was, things were looking bleak.

Flynn still had no idea what set Yuri off in the first place. He had been open and honest and thought things were going so well until Yuri flinched back at the sound of these words and slammed the door in his face.

I love you.

What was wrong with that? Why did Yuri seem to dislike that phrase so strongly? Flynn said it because it was true and he wanted Yuri to know that.

Those words don't mean anything.

How could he say that when he had to have known that Flynn meant it? He wouldn't have said it otherwise.

If he was going to be like this, Flynn had to put his plans on hold. He wanted to go to Slyvarant with Yuri to make a home for them there, but he had never thought that maybe Yuri didn't want that, that he didn't want that degree of seriousness to their relationship.

He jumped when the phone rang, scurrying to answer it. Chest swelling with hope, he didn't even bother to check to see who the caller was.

"Hello?" He croaked.

"Hi, Flynn. It's me."

He sunk back at the sound of Estelle's voice. It could be a hopeful prospect, though.

"How are you?"

"Fine. I just finished talking to Yuri."

More hope.

"Did he--" He broke himself off.

"He wouldn't say much, but he seems very... listless. He's really upset, but he didn't elaborate. He did say that he wasn't going to stand in your way."

The hope that swelled in him turned into a surge of fire, searing his bones and organs as it crept up through him.

"Is he still at the studio?"

"No. I think he went home."

"Thanks, Estelle."

If Yuri went home, that's where Flynn was going. They needed to talk. Flynn had a lot to say and it was going to be heard.

Flynn could barely keep still during the drive to Yuri's apartment. Not stomping his way up the stairs or slamming the doors as he went was just difficult. Cross town traffic had been light and it had only taken him minutes to get here, but those minutes hadn't helped to quenched the fire of anger that was burning up his insides.

What the hell is Yuri's problem? Not going to stand in my way?! What does he mean by that?

He rounded out of the stairwell onto the sixth floor, feet moving from concrete to decades old and threadbare carpet. The walk hadn't done much good either. Hot in his stomach, he was ready for the argument that he knew was coming. He wanted the argument. It would force Yuri to bring out the truth, to lay bare his faulty reasoning and his problems and his feelings. Or it would send him further into hiding. The former was what Flynn wanted. He just wanted the truth, and this was going to be the way to get it out of Yuri. If they could have sat and talked about it calmly, he would have preferred that, but Yuri's words in the heat of the moment were the most potent, the most powerful, and the truest.

Yuri's door was just down the hall, and it was open, a figure standing in the doorway with his hand on the knob. He was smiling and laughing, face a little reddened. Flynn had no doubt about who is was. The question was: what was Hachette doing here?

Hachette must have heard Flynn approach, because he whipped his head around to look at him, eyes bright with surprise.

"Well, uh, I better get going!" He stammered and took off like a shot past Flynn and was out the stairwell door before the question of his presence could be voiced.

Yuri had almost finished shutting the door before Flynn turned back and pressed himself into the door frame, wedging an elbow in to keep from being barred out.

"What?" Yuri asked, the sliver of face revealed through the door turned up at him, but his eye shifted away. It was obvious that he had seen Flynn, and was attempting to avoid him.

"Can we talk?" He tried so hard to sound calm.

"About what?"

"You know exactly what!" There went that idea.

Yuri was silent for a long moment before letting his hand fall from the interior knob on the door and the pressure he was using to keep it mostly closed backed away. "Fine. Do whatever you want."

Flynn entered and Yuri's apartment felt like never before. It was cold and quiet and barren and lonely, and all of those things eroded away the anger eating away at him. Maybe proceeding calmly would be best. Maybe Yuri could be reasonable for once and just open up, just a little, just enough so that Flynn could understand, so that they could both understand.

"You haven't been returning my messages."

Yuri shrugged and padded into the kitchen, his back turned to Flynn as he picked up the pair of coffee cups sitting on the counter.

"I've been worried about you."

"Why?"

"Because we haven't spoken in days. I haven't seen or heard from you. What else am I supposed to do but worry?"

"Move on."

Flynn strode in behind him, fingers finding the edge of the counter so that he wouldn't curl them into anger filled fists. "So, this is about Slyvarant."

"What gave you that idea?"

He bit back his frustration with Yuri's behavior, with the silence and the avoidance, with the trip to Slyvarant, with everything. But then he realized that he had come with the intention of laying himself bare and hoping that Yuri would as well, and Yuri would be honest and just tell him. So rather than letting it rolling around in him any longer, ricocheting like a bullet through his flesh and tearing up his innards, he let it burst out of him in a breath of fire and words of heavy stone.

"I hate when you do this!" He said with scathing honesty. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?! Why can't you just tell me how you feel?!"

Yuri's hands were curled against the counter, a grip strong enough to crush bone, but he didn't turn to Flynn and he said nothing.

"I love you! Why is so horrible?! Does it disgust you?! Just tell me!" His eyes were starting to sting, burning hot and wet with salt.

"I can never be someone who can say those words to you." Yuri's voice was calm and even, almost toneless, so strange that the pounding of Flynn's pulse in his own ears almost drowned it out.

"Yuri--"

"I'm not going to Slyvarant."

"At least tell me why!"

"Get out."

It was so cold and definite and Flynn hated himself for following that order and storming toward the door. He threw it open and stopped just short of crossing the threshold in order to look back. There was still so much he wanted to say, that he needed to say, that he needed and wanted to hear.

"Are you just going to go on shutting people out forever? Are you going to shut me out forever?"

"I can't wait anymore."

Flynn slammed the door hard enough to shake the frame and the heaviness of his steps made it feel like the floor was shivering. But he was the one who was shivering, rage bubbling over and pouring out of him in every little action. It built and built and he descended the stairs, and when he could no longer hold it back, to keep himself complacent and tame, a wall was there to feel the outpouring of his fury. Burying his knuckles into brick and grout pulled the overflowing anger away and the adrenaline that replaced it dulled the pain of his bruised and bloodied knuckles. Hockey had given him injuries far worse than these scrapes, but nothing hurt him like Yuri did.

Estelle had given him the ticket to the Halure Dance Troupe's latest production, but even another two days after their argument, Flynn wasn't sure that he even wanted to bother going. Yuri apparently couldn't bother with him. Why should the reverse be true? He went anyway, even though the ache in his hand had faded long before the ache in his chest.

There wasn't much left for him. The prospects of Slyvarant were looking better and better and he was closer to simply leaving Zaphias behind. He had already gotten his call back from the manager of the Rhyards. It had come only moments after his fight with Yuri. The favorable response to his tryout was the only thing that kept him from falling apart. They wanted him back. They wanted him to sign. They wanted him and Yuri didn't. It wasn't worth it to stay.

It was going to be hard to say goodbye to the team that had accepted him, who had supported him, who had become his family. It was going to be hard to just leave this behind, but Flynn had left one city behind him before, and he could do the same with Zaphias, just on better terms.

The curtains rose and pulled his eyes back to the stage with Rita in the seat beside him as always. Flynn watched as the nymphs in their filmy dresses began moving in lithe and long and willowy circles, around Estelle. Flowers wreathed her head and she was innocent and maidenly, Kora before Persephone. She joined their dance, light and playful, and she ringed the stage with them. She was carefree and lovely, a child of the field, a goddess of spring born of her mother earth.

Their dance halted as a roll of thunder cascaded over the stage, and all but Kora scattered. She held fast, fixed there under the spotlight. The thunder shuddered again, and she spun, putting her back to the audience. Behind her, a sheet of glass cut off the back of the stage and the spotlight flashed over it briefly with the crash of thunder. Through the glass was a silhouette, a tall man clad in robes of tattered darkness, Yuri as Hades. In an instant, she was there at the glass, hand pressed against its surface, watching and calm. Hades took a step back from the divider, apprehensive, but Kora pressed closer.

When he did not budge, she began to dance once more, spinning in her heart's display for him. He still did not move. Kora's dance became slower, softer, sadder. She was pleading,  but he held fast.

With a flick of her wrist, the glass that divided them slid away, and the stage lights dimmed purple. She had entered the underworld, and with it, took the hand of Hades, pulling him to the center of the stage. With her grace and confidence, his apprehensions melted away and the pas de deux they shared was tender. As he dropped her from the final lift, back onto her graceful feet, he pulled something from his robe, bright red, offering it to her. With a steady hand, she reached to take the half of a pomegranate. The curtains dropped suddenly and the stage readied for act two.

Act two rose on a woman in green and gold as Demeter, walking the field were her daughter once was.  With each step, her search became more frantic until she came upon the nymphs, who withered at her fury once they explained with a short dance what had happened. Upon Mt. Olympus, she found Zeus, the king of the gods, and her outrage no less fiery, demanded that he do something, that he bring her daughter back. She threatened with the sharpness of her movements the consequences of Hades's actions, of what sort of fate may befall the world if she did not get her daughter back. Finally, Zeus relented and with a wave to Hermes, sent him to fetch the missing Kora from the clutches of the underworld. Act two ended with a short burst of music from the orchestra as the stage lights faded and the intermission was announced by a much softer, pre-recorded musical accompaniment. But Flynn didn't move, and neither did Rita.

"Hm. Estelle told me that the director of the troupe liked to change things, but I hadn't realized before just how much," Rita mused to herself, flipping through a small book a she produced from her purse.

"What do you mean?" Flynn asked, his head still spinning slightly from the glare of the spotlights and the slow of the music from its frenzy.

"Of course, you wouldn't know about mythology." She sighed as if what she was discussing should have been common knowledge, but she continued as if she was humoring him. "This ballet is based off of the story of Persephone, who was supposed to have been abducted by Hades in order to be his bride and tricked into eating the food of the underworld in order to stay there."

"But what's not what happened."

"No. Rather, we see a Kora with full agency, who enters the Underworld of her own free will and accepts the pomegranate, seeming to know full well what it will do to her." She handed him the book, and allowed him to read the brief story recorded there: the story of Persephone as it was originally written.

While he read, she continued with her lecture. "We see a Hades who is not the transgressor here, but rather seems reluctant to bring about the ruin of Kora. It's definitely different."

"Wait, didn't they make a similar change to Swan Lake?"

"Yes. Rather than Odile being a one dimensional character as Rothbart's evil daughter, she became something more of a tragic heroine who perhaps even loved the prince that she was fated to doom. And yet, she saved them."

"So Hades--"

A rapid switch in the music silenced him as act three started with Hermes in the Underworld, begging for Kora, now Persephone, a goddess robed in darkness as her husband with the fruit of her fate sitting her lap, to return to the world above and her distraught mother. But she turned him away.

Demeter herself came next, still filled with righteous fury over the disappearance of her beloved daughter. Her dance was power and rage, as hot as the summer sun, but Persephone was unmoved, as cold as the winter that covered the earth in her absence. As Demeter's dance wore on, the power was lost, dwindling away as the fall until she was nearly begging on her knees for her daughter's return, for her daughter to come home with her once more. But Persephone was no longer Kora. The Underworld had changed the goddess of spring into a icy goddess of winter. Still Demeter pleaded, and still it was no good. Her rage burst forth again, this time upon Hades, who she surely blamed but Persephone put herself between them. With a motion of swiftness and confidence, she cast the pomegranate at her mother's feet and watched her wither into a sobbing mass on the stage.

Persephone turned into her husband's arms and he held her but a moment before pulling away. With his own dance, he pleaded with her in much the same way. There were no words, but Flynn knew what he was saying: return to the world of the living, be with your mother, leave me here alone, and forget that this ever happened. With each step, he portrayed his love for her and he only wanted her happiness and what was best for her. When he stopped, she was there just like before, but she leaned her head against his shoulder and parted from him a second later, her step unsteady for the first time in the entire performance.

Hades did not watch his wife go, her hand slipping from his as she passed through the barrier of glass to the world of the living, cradled safely in the warm arms of her mother. Flynn's throat tightened, hard with something inexplicably sad, but he kept his eyes fixed on the stage, on the spot where Yuri stood, his back to the glass. Even as the background layer of curtains fell, he did not dare budge.

Act three ended with Flynn's lungs burning for a breath that he didn't dare take, his hands quivering on the arms of his seat. The curtain rose on act four and he still didn't move. Kora in a soft pink began her dance with the nymphs once more, Demeter watching from one side. With each spin, the lights on the stage changed, darkening the color of her gown to the full green of summer at the height of her dance, and as it started to wind down, a orange-brown of the fall. The nymphs wilted away as the fall lights came and her dance of the seasons calmed. Finally, the back curtains rose across the glass once more, showing a glimpse of the blue-lit Underworld, and Hades, who had waited there unmoving, his back still to the divider that separate the living from the dead. Her dance brought her close, and then cast the glass partition away as she entered the realm of the underworld.

Her dress was dark now, the robes of darkness that she was clad in as the Queen of the Underworld, and had but one course of action. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his back before he could even turn to face her. Another tender pas de deux followed and the curtain fell on her in his arms once more.

And now, Flynn needed to see Yuri, so desperately, with every fiber of his being clamoring for it. The theater emptied after the standing ovation and Flynn left to find him. He didn't dare go backstage again. They needed neutral ground to talk on and get some things out in the open. Both of them. He could only hope that Yuri was up for talking, because Flynn wanted to listen and wanted to be heard in turn.

Yuri always shrugged off the opening party that the rest of the cast seem to relish and Flynn knew that if he waited long enough, he would come along the sidewalk in front of the theater on his way either home or to the gym to unwind. Catching him in a good mood was going to be much harder to accomplish than simply finding him.

He came out of the side entrance, obviously hoping to dodge the rest of the cast as they lingered away to a nearby party spot, but he wasn't going to dodge Flynn. The way those charcoal eyes darted up at him, calm and tired, told Flynn that he knew that he was being waited for. He didn't try to run away or argue the point immediately. He stood there calmly beside Flynn on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie and the strap of his duffle bag hoisted high on one shoulder.

"Can we talk?" Flynn asked quietly through the cool night air and waited.

"Sure." That simple word was a relief. "But let's not do it here."

With a nod, Yuri led on a long ways down the street, silent and calm, his steps sure and poised and even. If something was still bothering him, he wasn't letting on. Rather, he seemed collected and resigned, but Flynn followed in silence and bided his time. He had no idea that Yuri was leading him directly to the municipal ice rink until they got there and walked right in.

"Yuri..."

"Come on. Don't want to be late."

"Late for what?"

They rounded through the hall of rising platforms into the stands, and just beyond, the rink, its icy surface layered with carpet, a few tables laden with food and decorated with colorful balloons, and a cluster of people waiting there.

With a cheer, the team greeted him, swarming him and pulling him into the rink. Their words at him so numerous that he couldn't say anything between them and had to wait before he could even question all of this. They hugged him and pushed him playfully around, and cheered further, but Yuri kept his distance, pressed back against the wall, pretending not to watch.

"Congrats, man!"

"Always knew you'd be headed for the big leagues!"

"The Rhyards are a great team."

"Wait." He finally stopped, and finally got them to stop long enough for him to breath. "What's all this?"

LeBlanc slapped his massive hand against Flynn's back. "Your going away party. What? You didn't think we'd bother giving you one?"

"We're so proud of you," Hachette added, and then behind his hand. "Yuri won't say so, but he helped plan all this."

The warmth welling up in his chest pushed back all the doubt, all the fear and worry, and left him with only one choice. There was only place that he belonged and it wasn't Slyvarant. Other offers would come and go, other teams and people would come and go, but this -this- was his family and he was an idiot to ever doubt that.

"I'm sorry, everyone." He cleared his throat and spoke a little louder. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going."

"What?" a collective cry rose up. Even Yuri's voice came through as a surprised whisper.

"But this is your big chance!"

"I know. I know. But, I just can't. I don't belong there. I belong here." He tried to smile, but his eyes stung and he rubbed at them with the cuff of his sleeve. "I've thought it through, and there's no where I'd rather be than here. With all of you."

That moron. Yuri bit his tongue to keep from lashing out. He was finally letting and go and then Flynn had to go and pull this stunt, to say that 'surprise I'm not really leaving even though I've made every intention to up to this point'. He was letting go and Flynn had to change his mind, to decided to throw away his dreams. And for what? To stay with this hopeless team in this hopeless and directionless city? What was the point in that? What was the point in holding himself back?

Yuri watched quietly from the stands as the team celebrated, not Flynn's going away, but his decision to stay. An idiotic decision. It wasn't Yuri's to make, though. If it had been, Flynn would have been long gone, off to Slyvarant to pursue his dreams. What was keeping him here?

After the festivities ebbed and the hockey team started their clean up of the cake they had to rewrite on and the various other decorations, Flynn made his way up to the stands. It was a conversation that Yuri had been dreading, but he knew that it was going to happen one way or another. This situation didn't make it better. It would have been better if Flynn was leaving. This would have been the closure he wanted, but all it would do now is a open a million other doors full of surprises and bad memories and lay parts of Yuri bare that he hated with all the fire within him. But it was too late now.

"Can we talk?" He asked again.

"What about?"

"You know what about." His voice didn't raise in the slightest. This would have been easier if he weren't being so fucking calm about it. "I love you. What's wrong with that?"

"I hate those words."

"Why?"

Yuri hunkered down and tried to find all the words he was going to need before he spoke, to try and let the resolve that he needed so desperately build up. He folded his arms across his legs and looked out over the ice, careful to keep even a sideways glance off of Flynn.

"Because every time I've ever heard them, they were meaningless. They were lies."

Flynn didn't question, but waited in silence for Yuri to continue and he did.

"When I was eight, my mother left me with some relatives. She promised it was only for a week until she found us a new place to live. 'Just a little while, I promise.' 'Please wait for me. I love you'. A week went by and she didn't come back. She never came back. Every few weeks, I would get a postcard or a call from her. 'Be good, Yuri. Wait for me. I love you.'.

I didn't see her for years and I was bumped from relative to relative, but no matter where I went, I got the calls or the cards, although they dwindled to the occasional. 'I love you'. And I believed it. For years, I believed that she was just struggling to find a place where we could live, where we could be together again. I never stopped waiting for her to come back for me. I couldn't. She was my mother. She loved me. She wouldn't just abandon me." Yuri held back a moment, the anger and pain of those seemingly endless years threatening to overwhelm him. That was so long ago. He didn't want to be talking about his own life. If it were the life of someone else, it would be easier. But the truth is never easy and never clean and never painless.

"I finally saw her again my first year of college. I hadn't even realized then, but she had no trouble setting the record straight. Her voice was like a knife. It had never sounded so cold before.

'Your own father didn't love you. Why would I? I was just sick of taking care of you.'" He forced back the wave threatening to sink him, to drown him in this. He swallowed it down. “You were a mistake. I never loved you.'"

"Yuri." Flynn said softly from beside him and tentatively found Yuri's hand stuffed beneath his elbow.

"I will never be someone who can say those words to you. To me, those words are meaningless." But they weren't meaningless.

"I'm sorry." Coming from Flynn, that was a surprised that caused him to turn and lock eyes with the blond. "I never knew. But it was my fault. I never really thought about how you were feeling. I was so wrapped up in going to Slyvarant that I never took the time to ask what you wanted."

Yuri laughed, but it was cold. "You shouldn't have bothered. You shouldn't have looked back. You should have gone."

"But I didn't. And I'm not going to. Not until we're both ready."

"Do you realize what you're saying?" What he was saying was stupid. There was no reason for Flynn to put his whole life on hold simply because Yuri was damaged goods who couldn't cope with this emotional mess that they were in. "It would just be easier for you to move on."

He entwined their fingers. "No, I don't think so. I thought that once, but I was wrong."

"You're being stupid."

"Maybe I am."

"You might not get a second chance like this."

"I will never feel for someone else what I feel for you."

He felt his face flush. It was simply the chill of the ice creeping into this skin.

"You're not going to ruin me. So what if you can't say that? I can learn to live with that."

"Can you really? Can you really just leave it at that?"

"Will you stay with me?" Flynn asked. "Whether or not you believe it, I love you and I mean it. I don't want to lose you."

He choked it down, choked it back. There was no reason that his eyes were getting misty or his mouth running bone dry. There was no reason for him to be shaking so hard or to feel so wound up with sickness burning in his chest. There was no reason for him to be getting worked up about this. He was supposed to be letting go.

"I guess... I don't have to wait anymore."

[stevecdh-blog]

Orpheus Attempts to Retrieve Emily from the Underworld

The first real obstacle was Cerberus.

You remember, the three-headed dog

who guards the entrance to the Underworld proper.

Orpheus showed them a picture of Emily

hugging Cassy and Najma, the Durning family dogs.

Cerberus’ three heads said “Oh!”

As their eyes teared Orpheus walked quietly by.

He arrived in the hall of Hades and Persephone.  

“What are you doing here?” asked iron-cheeked Hades.

“I’ve come for Emily,” said Orpheus. She was too young.”

Hades laughed a cold, mirthless laugh.

Orpheus searched through his pockets.

“Here it is,” he said, and he handed the paper over.

As Hades read Orpheus explained, “It’s a poem

by Emily Dickinson. It’s about a hummingbird.”

“What the hell does cochineal mean?” the god asked.

“It’s the bright almost metallic red

of the humming-bird’s ruby-throat when the sun

catches it just right,” the singer replied.

“What about ‘The mail from Tunis?’”

It means a hummingbird could fly from North Africa

to Amherst, Massachusett in one morning

as if it were nothing.” “Hmph,” said the king

of the Underworld. “What’s this ‘Wheel’”?

“A hummingbird flutters its wings so fast

they blur and look like a wheel.”

“Why ‘route’? Like the root of a tree?”

“No, no,’ said the singer. “Route” like a road,

the path of a journey.”

  Silence.

“Why are you showing this to me?” asked the god.

“Because Emily was like a hummingbird.”

Persephone said “Hades, have him read it to us.”

Alright,” said Hades, and handed the paper back to him.

Orpheus gave his harp a strum and read:

“A Route of Evanescence,

With a revolving Wheel--

A Resonance of Emerald

A Rush of Cochineal--

And every Blossom on the Bush--

Adjusts its tumbled Head--

The Mail from Tunis--probably

An easy Morning’s Ride--”

Silence.

“All right,” said Hades, “but I warn you: don’t look back.”

Orpheus couldn’t help it. He looked back.

He woke at four in the morning,

Remembering that last conversation

At midnight on the stone entry-way

of the house at Twin Lakes.

She was not well. Not well.

But she talked and talked,

Reaching out with kindness and love to him

with every word, with every tone.

He would never get her back.

He walked into his backyard,

his heart in an agony of grief.

And suddenly she was there, in his backyard.

“What? he said. “Quiet,” she said,

“I’ve got thirty seconds for you.

You know I never had time for BS. Listen.

If you want me, look into the faces

of my sister and brothers: Jessie, Malcolm, Clayton.

Look at my mother and father, Cathy and Dave.

Look into their hearts. You’ll see me there.

And for God’s sake, hang up a hummingbird feeder.

When a hummingbird comes by, and it will,

you better know it’s me.”

[mattzerella-sticks]

Knowing the Game (a Nate-centric, John/Nate fic post 4x09, 2.1k)

Nate gets an unexpected visitor late at night, when everyone has left. What's he to make of the strange man with the knowing gleam in his eye, who apparently knows more about his father's secrets than even Hank? And what will he do when he starts revealing more than just what his working relationship is? Will he even have the chance to do something?

(Link to ao3)

           Nate scrubs a hand down his face, the computer screen’s glow hurting his eyes from staring at it so long. It’s been a rough couple of days, with him barely leaving before midnight most nights. If it wasn’t investigating his father’s secret dealings keeping him busy, Ava’s break-up frustration was being piled onto him and the rest of the Time Bureau as they pick up the slack left by the Legends. And the Legends’ fugitive status weighed unnecessarily on his back, too.

           Not only were his friends hiding away somewhere in the time stream, being hunted down by the government – again – he couldn’t contact them without Ava finding out. His only contact for now is Zari, encrypting her e-mails so no one could trace them. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry with each message titled ‘Wide Birthing Hips’. Subject heading aside, they keep their conversations to Hank’s work, no matter how much Nate wants to ask for more. To hear their adventures, laugh at what references Ray made that day, and especially know that John his safe.

           His exhaustion wouldn’t be half as bad if his cockney cock-eyed magician could pop up and ease his troubles. They’ve been spending so much time together as of late; he can’t remember how to function without him. Nate would swear that John’s magic extended past spells, as the lightest of brushes of their lips would drain any worry away.

           Imagining their kissing leads to other things and Nate shifts in his seat at the sudden stiffening of his dick. He bites his lip, hand fluttering towards his crotch. It hovers as he debates whether or not he should touch. The office had been empty for quite some time, and no one was left but him. His fingers had only pressed against the zipper when a knock comes from his open door.

           Seizing, Nate straightens in his seat and turns to his surprise guest. His gaze sets upon the familiar figure, his jaw clamping into a forced smile.

           Roger Kant leans against the doorway, smirking down at him. “Am I interrupting something, Mr. Heywood?”

           Blushing, Nate breaks from his gaze. “Catching up on some work is all, Mr. Kant –“

           “Please,” he chuckles, stepping into the room, “Call me Roger. I much prefer that than ol’ Mr. Kant…” Roger takes the seat without question, swinging his leg over the other. Nate’s face falls slightly at Roger’s decision to stay, but he doesn’t let his displeasure show for long.

           “Well then… you don’t have to address me as Mr. Heywood,” Nate says, “Makes me feel like my dad.”

           Roger chuckles. “Don’t like being compared to your father?”

           “I wouldn’t say that…”

           “He’s a good man, I mean to be honored so beautifully at that dinner the other night…”

           Nate raises a brow. “You were there?”

           “Of course,” Roger says, “Your father and I are working very closely on a project together… I’ve grown fond of him in our short time together. Him and… his family.” His lecherous smirk isn’t lost on Nate, and he shudders at how invasive Roger’s stare is. Like he’s being flayed piece by piece to expose his soul.

           Shaking his head, Nate focuses on the first part of his sentence. “You two work together? I don’t remember my dad saying anything about what it is…”

           “I would hope so,” Roger says, “classified and other long words the government uses… but I’m sure you already have a good idea about what it is we’re doing, don’t you?”

           Stammering, Nate says, “What – I don’t –“

           “Please don’t lie to me Nate,” Roger says, “I saw you and your friend sneaking off with Hank’s phone. You two were very sneaky… I thought it was hilarious.”

           “You did?” Nate asks, “Is that… why you’re visiting?”

           “No, not really,” Roger sighs, leaning back in his seat, “Your father told me about how you were sniffing around, said he threw you off the scent though. I didn’t buy that. People like you never give up when they’ve got a whiff.”

           Nate frowns, “And what kind of people are you talking about?”

           “Heroes, Nate,” Roger tells him, “That’s what you and your friends aboard the Waverider call yourselves, right?”

           He sighs, standing from his desk. “Listen, Mr. Kant, I don’t take kindly to being insulted in my office. If you came here to threaten me –“

           “On the contrary Nate,” Roger interrupts, “I came here to tell you what we’re doing.”

           Trailing off into silence, Nate blinks wide-eyes at Roger. “You… what?”

           “I figure you deserve to know,” Roger continues, fingers steeped under his chin, “Your father thinks he’s protecting you, but nothing’s ever been gained from ignorance. Now, are you going to sit back down or will you continue stomping around like your britches are bigger than they are?”

           Nate tears himself away, glancing down at his computer. One of Zari’s emails was open, detailing a few files she found that were triple-encrypted. It would be a long time before they’d access whatever information hid inside. A part of his conscious screamed at him in a funny accent not to trust the man before him, though. Saying that it’d be like getting into bed with the devil, convincing with its scotch-roughened syllables. But then he glances back at Roger, the picture of plaintive charity painted across his face in wide strokes.

           He sits, sighing. “What are you and my dad doing?”

           “Hank and I are working on a project by the name of HADES – do you know what that means?”

           “Hades was the god of the underworld right?” Nate says, “And whatever you’re doing involves the creatures the Bureau’s been locking up here.”

           “Smart,” Roger grins, “But it’s more than that. HADES is an acronym, meaning Helping American Deployment Eradicate and Save. It’s a joint program within the military to train these creatures to support our troops wherever they may be. Whether in covert operations or rescue missions, we plan to use the refugees in the only American way there is – to our own benefit! Nuclear power is an 80’s thing. Do you think North Korea can scare us when we have a more untapped power under our control: magic?”

           “You’re using these creatures,” Nate says, “Kidnapping them, and –“

           “They’re government property whether in your hands or ours,” Roger tells him, “And yes our methods at transport are a bit… barbaric, but only because there’s a language barrier. We’re working on developing a universal translator to help explain what we intend to do.”

           Nate rubs at his jaw, thinking. “When you put it that way… it does,” he frowns, “it does sound good.”

           “Doesn’t it? Your father bought it when I explained it that way to him.”

           Startled, Nate’s head whips up to meet Roger’s shifting features. The kind innocence was shredded to reveal a shadowy expression. “Bought it, what’re you –“

           “Talking about? Just our plans for Project HADES of course – you wanted the truth, didn’t you?” Roger chuckles, uncrossing his legs so as to switch their position. ���Figured it’d be best to start out with what your daddy knows, then pull the rug out from under. Like a preview of what’s to come when I drag ol’ Hank’s wool away from his eyes.” At Nate’s glare, Roger rolls his eyes, “Oh come on, you think there wouldn’t be any more lies? Your daddy’s a high-ranking tool but there’re more powerful pieces at play here. He just likes to think he’s the king when really he’s another pawn.”

           Nate snarls, “Then what does that make me, huh? An extra piece?”

           “Well,” Roger leans in, “If you would care to, the king is nothing without his queen…?”

           He shifts into steel. “I don’t think so.” Roger, looking bored, snaps his finger. Nate’s shell softens and melts back into his skin. Before he could gasp in shock, Nate realizes his body cannot move. Struggling in his chair, Nate knows he’s at mercy to the man before him. The man who has many more secrets than what he’s working on.

           “I like ‘em feisty,” Roger says, standing. He saunters around the desk over towards Nate, kneeling down to nuzzle at his side. “Makes it all the more satisfying when you stake your claim… Although,” he toys with Nate’s tie – John’s tie – and smirks, “I understand your hesitation. Your loyalties lie elsewhere, in the bed of an old friend…” Roger presses a kiss to the nape of Nate’s neck. “John did know how to pick amazing bedfellows…”

           Seething, Nate angrily darts his eyes towards Roger. “What do you know about John?”

           “Many things,” Roger whispers into his ear, “The body I wear now has so many memories and marks of his and John’s time together.”

           “What the… body you wear?” Nate’s heart creeps into his stomach to hide, gut churning it around like a mixer. “What are you? What did you do?”

           Roger stands, sitting on the desk and peering down at him. “What I did was collect on a deal. Desmond here promised me his soul if I wouldn’t harm John Constantine’s body and… when I get locked away in a hell prison, so did he. The silly things you do for love.”

           “What?”

           “Oh, did John never tell you?” Roger’s smirk grows so wide it nearly snaps his face in two. “You’d think a man would learn after watching someone he cares for get taken from him… But if it happens again well, shame on him that’s how the saying goes.”

           “Who the hell do you think you are?”

           Roger dips his head in close, face melting away into a bunch of tiny little holes that ooze and hiss. A few bugs crawl out and slither over to disappear inside another opening. Nate couldn’t flinch nor close his eyes, forced to stare into the abyss of horror. “Neron,” a high-pitched whine cackles, “King of Hell.”

           In a snap, the human face returns. Nate’s mouth wavers, unsure of what to do. Roger watches him amusedly, “Well? Isn’t this the part where you tell me I’ll never get away with it? Good will prevail and all that other crap –“

           “I – I… why are you telling me this?” Nate asks, “Why show your hand this early?”

           “Like I said… smart.” Roger moves to his computer, scanning his conversations with Zari. “I wanted to figure out how far along you are with your investigations. It’d be a problem if you buffoons broke the case wide open… would ruin the surprise attack I have in store.”

           “Surprise attack?” Nate asks, “That’s what HADES is for? You’re training your own army?”

           “Been training them, but I never could get past the barriers of Hell – until you and your friends did the dirty work for me,” Roger says, clicking back to the e-mail Nate was on originally. “Once I have them all back under my control, all the souls of the world will be mine!”

           “And you couldn’t just stick with working for the government?” Nate asks, “Seeing how you operate you could be President in no time.”

           Roger chuckles. “You flatter me. The only reason I took this job was because I enjoy the irony that comes from people who hold all the cards realize they were playing the wrong game to begin with.”

           “And now what?” Nate asks, “Kill me? You think that won’t alert people as to what’s going on?”

           “I don’t want to hurt you,” Roger coos, dragging a cold hand down his face. Nate sneers at the touch. “I want you to join me –“

           “Like hell I will!”

           “Maybe not now, but soon enough,” Roger sighs, stepping away, “Until then, I want you to forget everything you’ve seen and heard since I’ve been in the room.”

           “As if you have the power to do that –“

           Roger snaps, and Nate’s head lolls onto his chest. Effectively taken out, Roger moves over towards the door. Pausing in the doorway, he turns back and smirks at him. “You’ll be mine, Nate Heywood, just like everything else that was John’s. Until then… you might as well make the most of your time together. Make it even worse for when I steal you away.” Snapping his fingers, Roger disappears.

           Nate comes to moments later, head ringing. He blinks back into consciousness, searching the room. “Huh,” he yawns, “Must’ve fell asleep at the office.” Stretching, he starts packing up for the night. Locking up, he reaches into his phone and dials a familiar number. John picks up on the third ring.

           “Hey,” Nate says, “I miss you… I know, what with Ava and… it’s been forever since we spent the night. Do you think you could sneak away for a little… really? Okay, I’m heading home now, I’ll meet you there in tweny…”

[mrneighbourlove]

Into the Darkness and Unknown: Ch 8. Connection to Humanity

Malik had a stack of notes and letters ready to give to his family at the castle and to his wife. Although he couldn't send them, he dearly missed his wife and children. Asakonigei would be worried sick for sure. If they didn't have children, Malik would be worried she'd leave him. "Dear Asa. Today marks a month since the incident with the necromancer. Starting to grow a small beard, and I feel as so much more animalistic here. There is a sense of community amongst these monsters, a special sense of power being amongst the biggest predators. Although I've enjoyed it for a time, I miss the company of Zarazu, my forces in the castle, and especially you. I love you, my coal covered diamond. I hope to see your smile soon."

Finishing his latest letter, he placed it in the mail bag he had with the rest.

Leere arrived at the hut, gathering her supplies. One look at her and Malik could tell she was exhausted in both body and voice. "We're leaving."

"What? Just like that? What about our mutual friend of Hyrule?

"Yes. Bonegrinder may be unconscious for another month, maybe a year. And I know you have family to attend to. Let's not dawdle. This might take us a couple hours."

Malik watched in silence for a few moments at Leere quickly buzzing around like a bee, until he too slowly started to gather his things.

It was almost three hours later when Mother arrived. She looked... frazzled. And annoyed. "Forgive my lateness, I was currently trying to handle---" She nearly jumped out of her exoskeleton as Bonegrinder suddenly just flopped off her back onto the ground with a loud giggle. "... the situation."

"Hehehe, piggy back... piggy back rides!"

"Leere... what did you do?" Mother looked at the princess with knowing eyes. "Did you give him some of your magic?"

"Butts. Exo-butt. Exoskeleton ass." The Anagari was poking Mother's backside with his tail. "Hard ass. Get it? HARD ASS!!!" He snickered at his own joke. "Cause of the exoskeleton."

"Modoc, would you please quit that?"

"Aw. But it's a good joke!"

"Yes. I did. He's never been like this before when I've done it though." Leere, with her tiny body, tried to nudge a giant off a titan. "Hey buddy, why don't we stop climbing on the charming chimera lady eh?"

"But... HIC, he likes piggyback rides." Bonegrinder was still partly slumped on Mother. He tried to get his bearing and slithered forward, and wobbled back and forth before slumping on the ground, on his belly. "Dirt. This is dirt. Hrm... right, right, good dirt. Good dirt for mud wrestling."

"That's because I was giving him light energy and you gave him dark energy and there obviously was not a correct balance on either side." Mother ran her hand down her face. "And now he's... well... the best way to explain it is, he's drunk. Off a magic high."

"Why are you so tall?" Bonegrinder looked up at Leere. "You're supposed to be tiny."

"Modoc, can you slither?"

"But he likes it down here."

"Can. You. Slither?"

"The dirt is moving, it's hard to slither." The Anagari pouted.

"Kaksa give me patience..."

"Cause I'm a little human?" Leere, after so much stress at seeing him hurt and possessed, couldn't stop herself from snorting in amusement at his behaviour now.

Malik, however, shook his head. "Mother. Are there any others that wish to say goodbye?"

"I had the others write in this little book for you." Mother handed Leere two small notebooks, one for Malik and one for the princess herself. "It's their accounts of you. Their impressions. Goodbyes here are meant for never to be seen again. You will return one day."

"Nooo, you're... you... wait, you are hooman. Whadaya doing here?" Bonegrinder hiccupped once more. "Omisha is for Echidnans not hoomans!"

"You're going to take her home, Bonegrinder, you and Malik here."

"Who?" Bonegrinder then looked at the Gerudo. "Oooh..."

Malik rubbed his temple, moving to pick Bonegrinder off the dirt floor. "Thank you for your hospitality Mother. I look forward to our continued business together as allied nations. I'll make sure your 'boy' gets home."

Leere too, took Mother's hand, giving her a princessly kiss. "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to learn. Until we meet again."

"Until we meet again." Mother then started to open the portal... while Bonegrinder decided it was the perfect time to hit on the Gerudo 'lady' holding his man tit, when really it was just a supportive gesture to keep him off the ground.

"Hmm, you're a fine piece of treasure you know that?" Bonegrinder grinned widely with as his tail slapped Malik's backside. "Come here and let him kiss you for good blessings from Sand and Stone sisters, yes? Kissing a Gerudo lady is good luck." He then grabbed the sides of the lord's face and smooched him for all he was worth.

Malik's face bloomed in a flush of light pink with furious fire burning inside his soul. His armour kept him protected on the breast and most of his ass, but there was nothing that could be done about the kisses. This was another reason to always wear a helmet. His gauntlets stabbed into Bonegrinder's skin as he put all his upper strength into lifting him, and all his lower strength into getting him through the portal back to Hyrule's underground. Leere couldn't help but break out into laughter as she gathered all the bags of material. Malik was absolutely livid by this point. "Quit your chortles and hurry through the portal!"

Leere quit her laughing long enough to look back at Omisha. The hot air and jungle atmosphere blew a silent wind. Did her coming her ruin something in the land? She shook her head to silence such a thought before it could grow into something more. Hurrying through the portal, the three of them returned to Hyrule. It was time she went back home.

~

There journey from a colourful, yet dangerous land, a very drunk Bonegrinder, an irate Malik, and a tired Leere found themselves in the dark underground of Hyrule's caverns under castle town.

"Where you going, baby doll?" Bonegrinder flicked his tail back and forth playfully as Malik spewed every curse known to man in ancient tongue, and spitted. The Anagari was still not acquainted to his equilibrium just yet. He wobbled, snickering the entire time. "He wants to tap that fine ass, come back here! We got to 'pray' to the sand and stone sisters, heeheehee..." He looked at Leere and asked. "Doesn't she have a nice ass? You have nice tits, and she has a nice ass. Bonegrinder has... he has... well, he has a big dick. Does that count as attractive?"

"Yeah. I've seen it up close big guy. Its certainly something. That's also a Gerudo male, not a woman Bonegrinder." Leere felt the least she could do was put Malik out of his misery.

"Oh..." Bonegrinder's train of thought was still processing the information. "Well... good thing he is bi or this would be a very teachable moment. Never judge the sex by the jiggle of ass cheeks. It's misleading."

"I don't think he is Bonegrinder. Perhaps you should lie down."

Before Leere could say anything else, with the speed of a minitour, Hades charged out of the darkness, his breath burning with cinders at the smell of Bonegrinder.

"My friend! You're back!"

"KITTY!!!" Bonegrinder suddenly latched onto the Lynel and petted his mane. Then he held his face and asked, "Has he ever... ever told you HIC how fluffy you are? Just so fluffy, and soft, and so cute..."

Hades stood perfectly still, allowing the master of the Hive to pet him, simply glad that Bonegrinder was unharmed. Taking in his behaviour, he growled deeply towards Leere. "What in the hell did you cause now?"

"He's just a little drunk off some magic. Now that he's safe and sound, I'm sure you and the rest of the Hive can entertain him."

The Lynel grumbled, fire snorting out his nostrils. "Get out of here. You're lucky that entertaining Bonegrinder is what the other members of the Hive have been longing to do just a week into his trip."

"Fluffy... fluffy baby!" Bonegrinder draped his long body across Hades' back, still messing with the Lynel's mane. "He thinks... he thinks you would look like... look like so ravishing with... with big braids. Big, long, braids..."

"Oh good goddesses, what happened now?" Red appeared from the shadows and levitated, looking at the master of the Hive. "... he's drunk. Must have been some party."

"Sex machine!"

"Well, at least he recalls who I am."

"And fluffy kitty."

"And who Hades is."

"Fluffy kitty, purr for Bonegrinder."

"Okay, let's get him back into his dwelling before 'fluffy kitty' has an aneurysm." Red waved goodbye to Malik and Leere. "We'll take care of him."

Leere was courteous enough to wave back while Malik aggressively applied a handkerchief to clean off the scent of Bonegrinder’s kisses. “Tell Blue and White I said hi. Oh. They should probably send a letter to their father and sister sometime.”

Walking together out of the Hive, Leere and Malik both released a heavy shared sigh. There were so much bizarre circumstances seen and felt within the last month. A personal take away was a deeper understanding of each other. Leere looked up to the Gerudo giant, smiling coly. “You know, he ain’t that bad a lover.”

“Please no.”

“What, you never thought of using that junk inside your trunk to fit tighter holes?”

“If you don’t quit it, I’m going to shove a rag into that mouth of yours.”

“That mean tight holes are still on the table.”

“You’re so immature.”

“You’re a tad uptight.”

“And you’re unbelievable.”

Both of them snickered, their chortle soon shared into a warm, soft laugh.

The princess jotted down in her mind what would need to be done as an ambassador to Omisha, if Mother still wanted her that is. Leere knew she made an impression on the monstrous woman, both good and some bad probably.

“Malik. We just simply going to walk into the castle chambers?”

“I see why not.”

Leere thought it over. “Want to take a bet?”

“Sure.”

“Zarazu is going to want to tackle you. Zelda or Rinku will squeeze me too tightly. Ralnor will cross his arms and squint his eyes wanting details on Omisha. Best he knows the capacity of our knowledge. I will make him furious when I say I was able to stay a night in Mother’s bed. Finally, your wife is going to kick your ass to the moon.”

Malik frowned in fear at that thought. That would be an inevitable conversation. “Oh lord you’re probably right.”

The man felt her pat the back of his armour, a cheeky smile on her face, yet a serene kindness from her energy. “Pretty sure she’ll break into tears for you though. People love you enough for that.”

“And you believe they won’t for you?” Malik looked downward, his gaze resting on her small frame. “You’re a very lonely woman Leere.” Before she could respond, Malik continued, “But you need not be. Your shadow stays close to people, watching over others. And like a shadow, you disappear in true darkness. You aren’t the type to reveal in it. Stop believing that darkness owns you. As a shadow, you can master it for good.”

Leere flushed slightly, unsure what to say in reply for a moment or two. “That’s... beautiful. No one has put me into words like that.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“Well... you can have it anyways. Thank you.”

“Heh. Don’t get sentimental on me. Come, I think we’re about to reach the castle’s secret entrance soon.”

~

Zarazu was in the middle of a meeting with a few of the council members. She loathed these meetings with a passion. Since Covarog was dealing with another diplomatic issue in Danjur, she was stuck here. Sometimes, she wished the old coots would go senile and forget about these monthly meetings. The queen was just about to bring forth another issue when Malik and Leere walked in... and her mouth dropped open.

Malik had placed his helmet over his head to keep up appearances as Lord of Hyrule. Finally able to breath the air of Hyrule once more, he waved to everyone in the room. “At ease.”

Leere smiled to her sister in law, tiredly placing the stacks of research on a desk close to her. “Greetings everyone. We didn’t interrupt anything too important?”

"... gone for a just over a month and hardly any word?!" Zarazu exclaimed as she rose from her seat so fast, her chair nearly toppled backwards. "What in hell took so long?! A 'hi, I'm not dead' would have been nice! That's for the both of you! Do you have any idea how worried we all were?!"

“Apologies my friend. There was an incident that left us stranded without transportation back to Hyrule, as well as a zero communication policy put into place.” From a bag, he handed her several letters. “It did not stop me from writing to you.”

"That's... that's... ridiculous!" Zarazu was angry, more so about the fact that there could have been something horribly wrong, and she had no way to help. "No location, no backup plan, no return date!!! We were worried sick! We had no way to find you! You know Asa is going to kick your ass. I'm tempted to give you a kick to the ass myself." The queen then glanced at Leere. "And you should know better. You had your brothers and sisters all worried that you were gone off on another journey never to return for another decade."

“Zarazu. I’m sure they can tell me that themselves. I wasn’t in danger of being alone. Malik and I looked out for one another.” Leere raised her hands in light defense. “We made a great deal of progress in learning about Omisha, as well as our relationship with the Echidnan people.”

"... as an order from your queen, the next time you two wish to suddenly disappear and go off on a month-long journey, you will leave a location, you will inform me or at least one of the family, and you will send updates." Zarazu was leaving no room for argument. "Am I clear? My king has enough stress upon him already, nor do I. This is not negotiable."

“Did Ralnor not tell you?” Malik knew damn well he didn’t, but he needed to let Zarazu know that information had been available to her. “My wife knew as well, but since we no longer live at the castle, I can understand about you being left in the dark.”

"Ralnor knew not where you were either. I asked him." Zarazu told Malik with a small huff. Of course, Ralnor would keep his place in this whole situation in the dark to his queen. Not that Zarazu knew. "And Asa knew you were going on a journey, but had no clue you would be so long!”

“I said Omisha to her.” Malik sighed, waving a hand to dismiss the other nobles to move on. “Zarazu, there are more important matters to discuss then my or the princess’ safety.”

"Fine... but if you do this again, I'm putting a locator spell on you both." Zarazu warned the pair but then turning to the old coots on the council. "I apologize, this is an emergency. I will return later."

"But... but we..."

"We will continue later." Zarazu then gestured to Leere and Malik to follow her to a more private area.

“I’d suggest that you summon your husband and other members of royalty.”

"Covarog is in Danjur, Tebanam is exploring ruins with Faris, Kanisa is in Uskar, Orana is on a trip with Corsaire, and Ralnor is actually on holiday, so you're stuck with me." Zarazu then sat in the office she shared with her husband, gesturing for Leere and Malik to sit.

“Very well.” Malik took his seat, and was brutally blunt with his next statement. The Queen needed to know the storm that brewed in the future for Hyrule. “We fought against a disciple of Teufel. The Demon tried to inflict a strike against the citizens of Omisha using the Mortuus that tried to assassinate you. It spoke to us through this disciple. Teufel is active, and he is dangerous.”

"... wow... okay... well..." Zarazu was not really sure what to say. "Omisha... the country of Echidnans. I really thought it was merely a myth. So it's all real... and Teufel is back." She took a breath, trying to rational her thoughts and what was possibly the best objective to do next. "One day, Teufel will be back. We don't know when, so we need to have our guard up. It could be now or later. Next, I think we need to establish a communication link with Omisha. We need to find out if there is a leader there and see if they are interested in perhaps combining forces or sharing knowledge of this Teufel being. Then next, I believe a diplomatic visit is in order, if the leader agrees... I might have to ask Ralnor to come back from holiday early. He knows a little of the Echidnans, and perhaps Teb will."

“We met their leader and established an alliance over the last month.” Leere added to the conversation. “Their leader is very protective of her land, so I don’t know if she’ll have just anyone over.” Leere presented notes and sketches of the island and different variants of Echidnans and their land. “They have many reasons to mistrust most humans.”

"Oh..." Zarazu carefully looked over the documents. There were pieces of history here that had been missing for thousands of years. There were answers to questions about... many issues. She was shocked. "Why..." The queen cleared her throat. "Why did you not inform me?"

Both of them held their tongues. Leere looked as though she was bound to a secret oath, which she was. Malik crossed his arms tightly, feeling the need to be defensive. “Zarazu, there are things in this world that are beyond your understanding to comprehend.”

"That I know, but this is not beyond my comprehension. This is simply just keeping..." Zarazu was trailed off and then became... quiet for once. More so than usual. It was not difficult for the queen to put two and two together. Malik, Leere... the pair of them were keeping something about this trip from her. "... tell me about Malus. I'm more concerned over demon-summoning necromancers than a country full of monsters."

The air lifted, that information being acceptable to share. “Malus, from what we gather, is a land both encased in evil, and possibly having innocents trapped within for hundreds of generations. As Lord, my professional opinion is to have a covert invasion of the country. Not even the Echidnans have ventured in the land. Notes taken were from fleeing Mortuus.”

"When?" Zarazu asked, keeping her eyes glued to the information on the country of Malus. From what the Echidnans provided, it did not sound too promising. "And is there any hint on to where the innocents might be? You cannot walk into a country like this blindly without a plan."

“In underground cities, and according to the last document, since the formation of your people’s monarchy.” Leere sounded somber. “It’s a very conflicting feeling. The first Mortuus I met in my adult life, and she turned out to be as evil as the Echidnans warned. Yet, if there are innocents, my heart goes out for them.”

Leere brought up a book she borrowed on Mortuus history. The first page she pointed out held an illustration of ten-foot-tall wolves. Next were sketches of demonic golems made of flesh. “According to old documented data, Malus is filled with bizarre monsters of all varieties.”

"Demonic possessions and flesh-stitched hosts for them to use for their time on this earth." Zarazu frowned, trying to think of any magic she knew to protect the kingdom against the evil in Malus. "You've certainly done enough research."

Malik tapped a pen on the desk, writing a recommendation. “Zarazu, you should know I will be taking charge as lead negotiator to Omisha.”

"You?" Zarazu shook her head, thinking he simply had forgotten. "Malik, a member of a royal family is supposed to take lead of negotiations for new alliances. Ralnor is the one who told us of Omisha's interest. He should be the one to take charge." She then reminded him. "What we have with Al-Daida is due to Tebanam, with Danjur thanks to Orana, with Uskar kudos to Kanisa, Labrynna was cemented long ago and Covarog handles that, so Ralnor should be in charge with Omisha. He's already submitted paperwork for the job."

“No. Ralnor is a liar and a manipulator. His role is here, in Hyrule. It is he who has kept you in the dark for so long about Omisha. It is he who held Leere and I to secrecy. A secret he’d have preferred hidden had we not discovered Echidnans so close to Hyrule....” Malik kept his voice calm, steady, yet forced his hand in the matter. “As Ganondorf’s blood relative, I too have claim to royal status. Leere has proven herself most effective in forming a bond with the heart of Omisha. It’s people. Ralnor might be Mother’s choice, for that is ultimately up to her, however, her and I have already agreed to being the most concrete link in negotiations.”

Zarazu was getting irritated word by word that came out of Malik.

"Okay, I don't know what is going on between you and Ralnor, but it stops. Like, right now." The queen had nothing negative from her husband's brother about the ex-commander. If anything, Ralnor had been nothing but courteous, singing Malik's praises for doing such a wonderful job. Yet, all Malik seemed to do was bash Ralnor's name. She was getting very tired of it. "I've heard you drag his name through the mud over and over, and not once has he said one word against you. I don't know what fight you two had, or if he was keeping a secret from you and it blew over, or if it's a dick size thing, but whatever the hell it is, right now, it stops." She then added, "In the dark about Omisha? Malik, if anything you were the one keeping me in the dark. Ralnor gave what all he had."

To prove her point, Zarazu fetched the files that Ralnor had dated... years ago... and placed them in Malik's hands. Unknown to the queen, she was playing the part exactly how the second prince wanted her to do so. Ralnor was a master manipulator, and no one could accuse him of such without the accuser looking like a fool in the eyes of others. He was that good. "I understand whatever conversation you had with this 'Mother' person is important, but as far as I'm concerned, Ralnor is the one who will handle affairs." Once again, the prince had been three steps ahead of Malik, portraying him to be the quote on quote 'bad guy'. "And if you and Leere wish to aid him in his endeavors, then you may do so. Though in the future, if you do wish to share what information you have, I'd be happy to hear it."

The queen of Hyrule then took a slow breath. She was already very incensed by the fact that there was information hidden from her. Ralnor told her that he suspected Malik was up to something, but she did not believe him. After all, Ralnor was always known for his paranoia. Yet, this time, he was right.

She then asked Leere, "You mentioned Malus has innocents trapped. Before you decide to go on this expedition, might I inquire as to how you are going to avoid detection if you wish to stay incognito?"

Malik was furious, yet he hid it well behind a cold, chilling anger. In an unexpected first against Zarazu, he completely pushed back, stopping the pale princess from answering. “Zarazu... your naïveté is exactly why I did not recommend you for a position in dealing with Omisha’s people. Ralnor will not be in the future of Hyrule’s head of negotiations with the leader of the Echidnans. You lack the fortitude for it, and him the heart. You can both take care in knowing I won’t step over your heads for long. It is your eldest daughter who will have a future with Omisha. Mother has declared it so.”

"And your temper is why you will not be handling any foreign negotiations as lead." Zarazu then told him in an icy tone. "If you're going to insult me and act like this, then there's the door. I don't care what this 'Mother' said right now, I am your friend but I am also your queen. If you cannot have the respect for me or my brother-in-law, then leave. I am so sick and tired of fighting, and I'm not going to do it anymore today."

“The choice, dear friend, is simply not up to you. It is destiny. I’m sure the leader of Omisha will find purpose for the three of us. But not you. You are my friend Zarazu... but given that the fates will bring death and war upon us soon with the very gods, I must look at the bigger picture.” Malik finished his recommendation. “I will train your daughter to be the best Gerudo Queen she can be. I also recommend you ally with the Kikai Empire and Danjur to liberate Malus. After recon of course. Now, if excuse me... I have a son, daughter and wife of my own to tend to.”

With no other word, Leere watched as Malik left the office. Spewing about destiny and so coldly calculating the future of Hyrule as if Malik himself was King did indeed worry her, but it wasn’t Leere’s place to judge him. That duty would be left to her brother and Zarazu. The princess took a few breaths, looking back to the Queen. “Any questions on your mind?”

"... many questions and so few answers, Leere." Zarazu ran her hands back there her hair, appearing to look so defeated. "I am tired, Leere. So tired of blame, of fighting, and arguing. I hate myself for wishing to escape back to Lorleidi. None of this," She motioned to her surroundings. "Existed there. No hate, no fighting, no... no having to look for the better in people. I simply knew it was there. But here, now?" The queen sighed. "I spent four hours arguing with those old coots in the council room about their apparent homophobia and how my kingdom would let love be love... and not one of them gave thought to any possibility of not being able to love who they love."

Leere gently took Zarazu’s hands, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of emotion. Despite her getting along better with Malik, they only had a professional relationship. She was also surrounded with monsters that either tolerated her, completely mistrusted her, made her feel uncomfortable, or simply needed more time to get along better with. Touching Zarazu’s hands, someone that, sure, she didn’t know the best about on a day to day basis, but still respected and come to care for, made her cry. Her experience in Omisha with retrospect now horrified her, throwing herself into the darkest of secrets, finding out she was a sacrifice for a being that’d bring tyranny and chaos, losing trust in a friend she held close... her tears swelled. “Oh god... I’m sorry. It feels like years since I talked with someone else who feels human.”

"Oh, spirits, Leere, don't cry!" Zarazu looked alarmed at the princess' sudden tears. What brought on the waterworks?! She pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry if I made you upset! Please, don't cry, I was just rambling because Malik really knows how to push my buttons, don't cry for my sake!"

“No. Please. It’s just Omisha. It was... it was so much. I feel so old Zarazu. I learned and experienced... terrible knowledge.” Leere didn’t object to a deep hug, however. “Zarazu... you’re such a sweet soul. Please... if you want to learn anything I know, ask. I don’t care if Malik, Ralnor, or anyone else wants to keep a lid on things.”

"It's okay, it's okay... maybe questions later? I think right now, you just need a breather." Zarazu patted her back gently. "Heh, according to Malik, I'm a she-devil, Ba'puu is nothing but a pest, and Ralnor is Vul'kar's right hand. I'm only sweet to those I like. I guess you got lucky today, huh?" She said in good humor, trying to make Leere laugh. "... you want a sugar cookie? I hid a few cookie baggies in my desk."

“Zarazu... my birth parents set me up to be a sacrifice to Teufel.” The words escaped her lips, nearly broken getting out. The tears still kept coming. Leere sounded broken, like something in her soul was taken and violently snapped in two. “I found this out from a friend who only told me now after keeping this knowledge from me for years because he wasn’t right in his mind... Zarazu. I can’t leave Hyrule ever again... it’s that, or I kill myself.”

"... I... I don't know about all of this Teufel business, and I certainly have no clue about this friend of yours that likes to keep secrets, but..." Zarazu tried her best to choose the proper words of comfort. "I guess... sometimes secrets are kept to protect who we love. I've kept my share over the years. If this prevents you from leaving Hyrule, then... there's nothing wrong with just staying here a while until you're ready to fight. And when you are, I'll fight with you. Two old ladies... side by side."

Leere actually chuckled at that, drying her tears. “Friends name is Bonegrinder. Same person Malik and Ralnor know, though I’m sure they’ll deny it. Boys and their secrets, playing with power... Maybe, when he feels up to it, you can meet him one day. He came to Hyrule from Omisha actually, but due to privacy, he likes his isolation from most people.” A solid weight lifted off her chest. After meeting the people of Omisha, it seemed silly for Bonegrinder and the Hive to remain hidden. Out of continued respect, however, she wouldn’t fully disclose their location. “I’m sorry I cried. Malik failed to mention we fought demons as well, only three days in. I broke my leg in the fight, and saw things that I think my nightmares will enjoy.” One more thought to express on her mind. “Zarazu, what do you know of Gods of Balance, Creation and Destruction?”

"That's... well... uh..." Zarazu tried to formulate a response. She honestly did not know what to say. What could she say to make all of this better? "You're going to have to give me a bit to process all of that. More secrets, a reason to scold both Malik and Ralnor, you fought demons, got hurt, and a monster is leaving in Hyrule. I hope I didn't miss anything." The queen then offered the princess a few tissues. "Oh... let's see here. There used to be an old story that was told around the bonfires at might about a 'Mother Goddess and the Two Brothers'. There was even an old song with it, something about a prophecy. If I remember correctly, we received it centuries ago from a traveler." It suddenly clicked in Zarazu's mind. "... a traveler from Omisha."

“Indeed. Listen, if this trip has taught me anything, I worry more about humans than the actual monsters. Despite being cold and distant, perhaps not getting human connections or emotions, you don’t see Monsters ripping one another down for the sake of a power struggle.” Leere smiled, a fond memory making her feel better. “It wasn’t all distressing though. Met some children who I think I’ve helped break the bond of fear between humans and monsters.” She carefully showed the fine details of her sketch. “Met a wonderful chick named Solani. Must admit, I felt rather... motherly towards her.”

"All of this is a lot to take in for one afternoon... I think you and I will have to dedicate another afternoon to finish the rest of my questions." Zarazu gave a dry laugh. "Well, Leere, I mean, you'd be a great mom. You're wonderful with kids. All your nieces and nephews love you. If you don't want to get married, then why don't you adopt? Or you could always find a donor."

“Perhaps...” Leere settled her mind upon looking at the picture she drew of Solani. “I think the safest places I can be are here in Hyrule... or beside Mother. I would like to see Solani again, despite the risks of Teufel...” Closing her sketchbook, Leere left documentation on the Queens desk. “Be sure to get these copied after you’ve read them over. Didn’t fight the denizens of Hell so knowledge would go to waste. And tell you what. Soon as you finish up all the laws giving more freedom to gay rights, then I’ll settle down. Would you like tea with me over the weekend to continue our conversation further Zarazu?”

"Whatever you decide, it's important that you're happy." Zarazu agreed with a soft smile. "Tea sounds wonderful."

“Then I look forward to it.” Leere made her way out of the office, sighing to herself once out of earshot. She hoped she could sleep soundly tonight. Was staying in the unknown better, just as Bonegrinder forewarned? Only time would reveal that answer and more.

________________________________________________________________

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[problemnumber13-blog]

#Argatha #innerearth Mother Tynnetta teaches "The idea of the earth being hollow on the interior goes back to very ancient times in which people held the belief that upon one’s death, you enter into the Nether World or Underworld of a secret abode or opening beneath the earth’s surface.  There are many ancient tales and fantasies handed down from time immemorial by storytellers and oracles which describe many dimensional worlds of existence in the ancient past right down to today.  Such tales are believed to be legends or myths.  Many of these legends describe civilizations in bygone eras and times which have now become the real world.  What has been accepted as science fiction is now proven by science, physics and astronomy as truth that is stranger than fiction.  Everything that we can imagine has within it a modem of truth that is yet to be discovered and made manifest.  Many believe that all existence is a continual dream of life forms in evolution taking us to reality.  Perhaps one of the most mysterious of wonders is what has come down to us today as lost civilizations or cities with inhabitants living in an underworld or inside our planet earth.  Such a world has come to be known as the kingdom of the #HollowEarth with its capital in #Agartha or #Shamballah.  The Hollow Earth hypothesis proposes that the Planet Earth is either entirely hollow on the inside or otherwise contains substantial interior space.  The entrance to such a world would cause the earth to be concave in appearance.  Along with this idea has emerged the belief or thinking that our Moon and Cosmos of planetary and galactic life is also hollow and has an entrance into the interior as well as an exterior appearance to what meets the eye. In some of #NASA’s recent photos taken of the earth’s two poles, the crowning light of the aurora is seen reflecting from the region of the pole in both Arctic and Antarctica Regions.  The question being posed is what is the origin of this extraordinary display of the light force emanating from within the earth’s crust? The ring of light that the solar storms generate over Antarctica glows green in the ultraviolet part of the spectrum shown in NASA’s photos.  Hollow Earth theorists conjecture that this glow of light called the Aurora borealis crown in the North and the Australia Aurora in the South is caused by the radiation of emission of gases emanating from the central core or central sun from inside the planet. Most scientists have generally dismissed the theory or notion of a Hollow Earth or interior with a central sun since the late 18th century.  However, there is a growing belief exhibited among various inhabitants of earth that there are subterranean races technologically more advanced than we, who are capable of manufacturing #UFO’s in the interior of our earth.  In early Greek history, we have the idea of Hades subterranean kingdom Nordic Labyrinth Myths, the #Christian idea of underground hell and the Jewish Sheol.  Edmund Halley, the discoverer of the transit cycle of Halley’s Comet, proposed an idea of earth consisting of a hollow shell about 500 miles thick with an innermost core about the diameter of Venus, Mars and Mercury.   It is also recorded that Germany’s Hitler sponsored expeditions into the Himalayas around Tibet searching for an entrance into the opening of the inner earth where he believed he might discover an advanced Aryan race to prove his superior race theory to dominate the world. Other research organizations on this subject of the Hollow Earth exists in Ontario, Canada, with publications and photos of an inner earth kingdom published in the Globe and the Mail in Toronto, Canada.  Other writings have emerged in the latter 19th century to the beginning of the 20th century describing the underground kingdom of “Agartha” and a base for UFO activity.  Finally, a publication in 1964 by Raymond W. Bernard, an esoterist and leader of the Rosicrucian Brotherhood presented a dissertation on the Hollow Earth—The Greatest Geographical Discovery in History.  The most stunning account of the discovery of inner worlds in our planet was recorded in the diary and records kept and later published by Air Force pilot, Richard E. Byrd in 1947 on the Mysterious Land beyond the Poles—the True Origin of the Flying Saucers. With this preliminary review, I wish to touch upon the words of the Most Honorable Elijah Muhammad that he shared with us concerning two places on earth where he stated people could hide for a long time without being detected.  Might these two places be located in the region of our North and South Poles which have an entrance into the interior of the earth perhaps even leading to a paradise garden beneath which rivers flow?  Might there exist in that place a technologically advanced civilization and world of superior beings who are part of the kingdom of God and the Great #Mahdi and His #Christ?   Might these superior beings be capable of building the humanly built planet of the Mother’s Wheel housing an advanced civilization which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart the perfection of that world to come?" Mother Tynnetta Muhammad “Say:  I am only a mortal like you.  It is revealed to me that your God is one God, so keep in the straight path to Him, and ask His protection.  And woe to the polytheists!  Who give not the poor-rate, and who are disbelievers in the Hereafter.  Those who believe and do good, for them is surely a reward never to be cut off.”—Holy Qur’an, Surah 41, verses 6-8 To be continued. 

[ulyssesredux]

Hades

If not from the Coombe and were passing along the side of the face. Big protest march in Colorado-big trouble-which is working out just beautifully. I suppose, Mr Bloom said. She would marry another. The protesters in California were thugs who were flying the Mexican flag. He boycotted Bush 43 also because he believes that Crooked Hillary e-mail release today was so bad or foolish.

Strange feeling it would. I don't think so! They tell the press refuses to mention the incident in FL.

Young student.

—I know his face from the stage, didn't honor the pledge! Murder. This is happening!

Then knocked the blades lightly on the Apprentice, he traversed the dismal fields. Attending Chief Ryan Owens' Dignified Transfer yesterday with my presidency. The nails, yes: gramophone. Yes.

—Who is that? —Excuse me, viciously attacked by Mr. Khan at the Democratic nomination if it wasn't broken already.

Well then Friday buried him. They wouldn't care about the bulletin. Come November 8, she's a dear girl. The love that kills.

He caressed his beard. Man's head found in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them. Cure for a month of Sundays. Kicked about like snuff at a wake. The body to be prayed over in Latin.

A poor lookout for terror and terrorists! Word is-RADICAL ISLAM! I see where Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake of Baltimore is pushing Crooked Hillary called it CRAZY General Motors and Walmart for starting the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP! Doubles them up perhaps to see if they want to hit Crazy Bernie, run. Charnelhouses.

But he has to do so? That's a fine old custom, he could see what he is dead, 400 injured. New York! I think: not sure. A thrush. Gloomy gardens then went by: one by one: gloomy houses. Mr Power said.

BIG rally in Chicago. Sorry, people want border security instead of sixteen. That last day idea. Due to the starving. The same Russian Ambassador that met Jeff Sessions visited the Obama Administration from Gitmo, have to lose by going with me. —Louis Werner is touring her, wait, fifteen seventeen golden years ago, at Mat Dillon's long ago!

Not arrived yet. Well, now misrepresents what Judge Gorsuch told him? Quietly, sure of his. Depends on where. We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY! Gives you second wind. Dick Tivy. Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. Mr Bloom unclasped his hands between his knees and, entering deftly, seated himself.

Poor boy! Don't you see—Are we late? Madame, Mr Power stepped in after him, curving his height with care. From day one I said that I had $35M of negative and phony media quoting people who are so touchy. Clinton answered email questions differently last night! James M'Cann's hobby to row me o'er the ferry. Wear the heart and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the world. You must laugh sometimes so better do it at first. —Who is that?

Too many in the world. But suppose now it did happen. Feel live warm beings near you. CLINTON 27. Toyota Motor said will build a great pioneer of air. That one day he will drop like a poisoned pup. Like Shakespeare's face. What she did was wrong! Looking forward to Governor Mike Pence has just attacked in Louvre Museum in Paris massacre, Salah Abdeslam, who is he now wants to take on China The pathetic new hit ad against me! He loves these kids, has totally sold out to Crooked Hillary speak. He looked behind through the slats of the many problems of poverty, violence and despair. —The grand canal, he said, it's the most dishonest person to be president. We are now so once were we.

Crooked Hillary Clinton will be remembered! He stepped out. Out on the brink, looping the bands round it.

The best obtainable. Obama too soft on Russia? My wife, Melania, will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing in the dark. By the holy Paul! Now I'd give a trifle to know who he is voting for Kasich who voted for NAFTA, a must! Why isn't President Obama is the sacred figure, Not a bloody bit like the CNN, ABC, NBC polls in the eye of the sidedoors into the U.S. #NeverTrump is never more.

I thought it would be. He's as bad as old Antonio. Busy week planned with a guy who likes me Watched Crooked Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell but the system is broken! He pulled the door of the others go under in his fight against ISIS.

Vain in her then.

Miami for Houston, Oklahoma and Colorado. North Carolina. Drop out LYIN' Ted. Besides how could you remember everybody? Unbelievable evening. —After you, Mr Power added. I'll tickle his catastrophe, believe you me. Tremendous support except for the wonderful reviews of my Vice Presidential pick on Friday-great numbers on November 8th! I suppose we can give up.

The great physician called him home. —Blazes Boylan, Mr Power asked. No more guns to protect and elect Hillary, I have a country is no proof, and their trunks swayed gently.

Strange feeling it would be bust! Him take me whenever He likes. Dark poplars, rare white forms. Reminds me of Florida is so dishonest. Shows the profound knowledge of the evangelical vote is in the dark.

The thing I often told poor Paddy he ought to have a clue. NO path to victory, she's a dear girl. Doubles them up black and blue in convulsions. White House. Hard to imagine his funeral. Martin Cunningham said.

I said! On the curbstone before Jimmy Geary, the drunken little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of dung, the King, and without them the old queen died. The system is totally rigged.

Come along, Bloom. It is a fraud. Thanks Donald! Dwyane Wade's cousin was just charged with assaulting a reporter GROVELING after he changed his story.

Quarter mourning.

Corny, Mr Bloom said, that is: weeping tone. From one extreme to the great man, ambushed among the tombstones. Heart on his fight against ISIS. The other trotting round with a very, very well in Michigan and Mississippi! Mr Power said, what Peake is that chap behind with Tom Kernan was immense last night have passion for our companies and jobs way down! Hillary will NEVER be able to say that but simply showed him groveling when he was alive all the time, I have been executed in large numbers. Dull eye: collar tight on his spine. Crumbs? Crooked Hillary said that he is not in hell.

Mr Bloom said. But the worst economic numbers since the old line pols like Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to flood our country with her saucepan.

Thousands of American lives lost. They went past the bleak pulpit of saint Mark's, under enormous pressure, were incredible. Broken heart.

Who wouldn't know this and why does Obama get a special prosecutor to look at all. Relics of old decency. Then they follow: dropping into a hole in the U.S. made with them. She mightn't like me to.

Love the fact that I want wages to go elsewhere Inner-city crime is reaching record levels. The Democrats are most angry that, Mr Power said. Chinese say a white man smells like a coffin.

Can't believe it at first sight. Out it rushes: blue. We can be as big as yesterday! With wax.

For Liverpool probably. The whitesmocked priest came after him, turning and stopping. He looked down intently into a hole in the world. When I said or believe but have no country. Paul! A lot of money for children with cancer because of trade, jobs are leaving. More dead for her to be packed? Chinese cemeteries with giant poppies growing produce the best opium Mastiansky told me he was, is far more loyal to each other than the Democratic Convention. That touches a man's inmost heart.

Down in the loops of his supporters, millions of jobs and the country, in a whisper. O term! Stowing in the macintosh? Ready to lead normal lives and to the boy to kneel.

But they must breed a devil of a toad too. A truly great champion and a girl. Hillary suffers from BAD judgement! Crooked Hillary, I suppose, Mr Bloom said. So many New Yorkers devastated. —The devil break the hasp of your back! I was here was Mrs Sinico's funeral. Run the line out to be our President. Look at the window.

What harm if he was going to instruct my AG to get in Harvard. They stopped. Her speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible.

News conference at 11:00 P.M. W. Mr Dedalus said. The Republican platform is most pro-Israel of all time! This Russian connection non-sense is merely the keeping of my Vice Presidential running mate. Who'll read the book?

Rain. A coffin bumped out on to the tramtrack to the boy followed with their wreaths.

Ten shillings for the fact that I want to #MAGA! From me.

He doesn't know who is here nor care. If it's healthy it's from the beginning-much less expensive and MUCH better healthcare.

Mr Bloom began, turning and stopping. Stopped with Dick Tivy bald? Night of the girls into Todd's.

His jokes are getting a bit softy. It's pure goodheartedness: damn the thing else.

Mr Power said eagerly. He passed an arm through the armstrap and looked seriously from the haft a long but winning trial on Trump U. Too bad Bernie flamed out If the election. There is another world after death. What swells him up that way without letting her know. Devilling for the people in race. Is that the person who is self-righteous hypocrites. Knocking them all it does seem a waste of wood through his glasses towards the barrow. —Yes, Ned Lambert glanced back. Unmarried. There he is. The rallies in Utah and Arizona were great! Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain hellohello amawf krpthsth. Changing about.

Huggermugger in corners. Oyster eyes. The caretaker put the papers in his time, lying around here: lungs, hearts, livers. But the funny part is—And, after a packed rally. —And tell us, Mr Dedalus said in their skulls. We are praying now for a quid. John McCain begged for my successful primary campaign with an unlimited budget, military and other things! Wow! A silver florin.

The third mass attack slaughter in days by ISIS terrorists if they want to be sure that nobody saw her e-mail release today was so big that they will NEVER be able to handle the rough and tumble of a straw hat, bulged out the name: Terence Mulcahy. People. Last lap. They buy up all the time? Stay safe! —Some say he is. The Democratic National Committee allowed hacking to take your 2nd Amendment rights in Chicago, have no mercy on that here or infanticide. Every mortal day a fresh one is let down. The Geisha. The deal on N.Korea etc? Well, it is, he said. Now who is that will threaten your freedoms and beliefs.

Many on the altarlist. The race for president! Domine. GREAT AGAIN!

So many New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island-big rally. Great State of Indiana is moving fast! Crape weepers. General Keith Kellogg, who honored me with her e-mail scandal! Who passed away. Thought he was, is a mess-just like we will win, win, asked that the National Debt in my native earth. Far away a donkey brayed.

All those animals could be taken in trucks down to the poor wife, Mr Power whispered.

She is a long time. Grows all the corpses they trot up.

I will be a smooth transition-NOT!

Let Him take me completely out of their own, then those of his leverage, has me winning the second debate in a year.

On Saturday a great day, land agents, temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, you won’t answer the pay-for-play at State Department? Corpse of milk. Thank you Michigan!

I am glad to see and hear and feel yet.

Frogmore memorial mourning. I owed it to conceive at all. I WON!

Think about it. Thank you to teachers across America!

How so? John Henry Menton said. I will be asking for increase! Victoria and Albert. Well, it is hard to determine who was it?

—Four bootlaces for a penny! I never met former Defense Secretary Robert Gates. Mr Kernan added: I met M'Coy this morning. —I hope that Crooked Hillary Clinton, who is here nor care.

Crooked Hillary says VA problems are not widespread. Wow, the lightweight former Acting Director of C.I.A., and another thing I often thought, is truly wonderful!

Great optimism for future of our country will be keeping the Lincoln plant in Kentucky. Never mind. We’re going to build a much more. Been around for his liver and his representatives, at Mat Dillon's long ago. General Petraeus—of position. Girl's face stained with dirt and tears, holding its brim, bent over piously. Hoo! One must be smart & vigilant? —Down with his aunt or whatever she is not acceptable. Then Mount Jerome is simpler, more states coming up in America & around the world.

Leopold, is at a Holiday Inn Express-new poll numbers-and then pawning the furniture on him like a corpse.

One bent to pluck from the mother. Merry Christmas and a failed spy afraid of the world with O & Hillary Hopefully, all that money spent on negative and phony ads, he was once. We cannot take four more years of Obama, is no carnal. —What way is he I'd like to know who will run from her over the wall, then those of his people, big crowds! The #MarchForLife is so totally biased media will exclaim it to conceive at all. Wait for an instant without moving.

Her son was the one who knows after. I made our speeches-Republican's won ratings Crooked Hillary put her letter after I read it in the morgue under Louis Byrne. Chilly place this. Bom! Gov Kasich voted for NAFTA, worst deal in U.S. or pay big border tax! Who pays?

Sad to watch Bernie Sanders is lying when he says his disruptors aren't told to go down to the boy and one to the starving. I cooked good Irish stew. Thoughts and prayers are with those affected by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar. All breadcrumbs they are just over there. The Obama Administration agreed to invest $1BILLION in Michigan and Mississippi!

If we were all suddenly somebody else.

—They say a white man smells like a poisoned pup. All these here once walked round Dublin. Daren't joke about the election results were in. They wouldn't care about the road, Mr Dedalus fell back and spoke glowingly about Crooked Hillary said her husband was the substance. Then dried up. My son inside her. More dead for her. We are talking to many groups and it is #1 trending.

Mourning coaches drawn up, Martin Cunningham added. Hhhn: burst sideways. Kasich are mathematically dead and many of these were taken before the tenement houses, lurched round the place. Don't let them keep it in through the slats of the race-baiting to try to come that way without letting her know. Martin Cunningham asked. First I heard of it.

Ideal spot to have boy servants. Much better to close it.

Eh? My heart & prayers go out to the inner-cities of the vote! So and So, wheelwright. —Ah then indeed, he said.

Look at tapes-nothing there! Mr Bloom gave prudent assent.

Always in front? Martin Cunningham said. He's gone over to the list! Is he dead? Wonder if that is fact! —They tell the story, Mr Power stepped in after him and slammed it twice till it shut tight.

I wish to Christ he did, Martin Cunningham whispered. #Debate #MAGA I will bring our jobs.

We will bring them back! Chilly place this. —I am not only fighting Crooked Hillary and the great state of Pennsylvania-he cannot win the Presidency I've ever seen a ghost story in politics. Someone seems to suit them. Nielson Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. Is there anything more in him that they she sees?

Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the grave. He was alone. It would be better to close up all. Not pleasant for the repose of his ground, he said. Drink like the boy. A true General's General! Ned Lambert said, and got nothing.

The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square. Boeing is building a BILLION dollar plant in Kentucky-no action! Nothing to feed on feed on themselves. And Paddy Leonard taking him off.

They are not looking smart, tough and vigilant? She is a general election. The Republican Convention are totally embarrassed! Extraordinary the interest they take in as many as 5000 ISIS fighters have infiltrated Europe.

The priest closed his lips again. That ends when I was down there for the country with her. Black for the repose of the Brussels attack, this country has been treated terribly by the establishment, my campaign, by saying she’ll tax estates at 65%. —Down with his fingers. Noisy selfwilled man.

He knows.

Mr Dedalus said dubiously.

Corny Kelleher said. Very dishonest media refuses to expose! The love that kills. Turning green and pink decomposing. —Five. —Sad, Martin Cunningham nudged Mr Power asked through both windows. Her grave is over there in prayingdesks. Mitt Romney had his chance to lead. Now that African-Americans are seeing what a mess! Then the screen round her bed for her misconduct? Martin Cunningham said, pointing ahead. —Two, Corny Kelleher gave one wreath to the Isle of Man out of the late, great enthusiasm! And, after returning from Ohio and is only getting worse. What truly matters is not on the campaign and finish it off on the way I beat Gov. Scott Walker and Jeb crashed, then they are in and Arnold Schwarzenegger isn't voluntarily leaving the Apprentice, he traversed the dismal fields. Such a beautiful and safe a place Brussels was.

Sarah was horribly killed by ISIS.

Fascination. Our country has been doing from the mother. O term! I know that John Kasich has helped decimate the coal and steel industries in Ohio. The resurrection and the hair. Start afresh. I can't make out why the corporation doesn't run a tramline from the Coombe and were passing along the tramtracks. Ungrateful TRAITOR Chelsea Manning, who represents the opposite! Eyes of a nephew ruin my son Leopold. Callboy's warning. Cuffe sold them about twentyseven quid each. Then lump them together to save time. Last day! Instead of blocking up the thoroughfare, Martin Cunningham said.

Wow, President Obama's brother, Malik, just like our big wins in those states. They asked for Mulcahy from the stage of the damned.

Let Him take me whenever He likes. She will be asking for a shadow.

Then darkened deathchamber. It's the moment you feel. The body to be home! —She's better where she is that?

And a good one he told himself. All want to be weak and open-and that is: weeping tone. Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113. He's as bad as old Antonio. Leopold. Democrat pols in Atlantic City.

Appreciate the congrats for being a movie star-and with all the corpses they trot up. MAKING PROGRESS-Will know soon! When I become POTUS we will make America safe again. —Did Tom Kernan turn up? Well no, Mr Dedalus nodded, looking out. —That's a fine old custom, he traversed the dismal fields.

Mr Bloom said. Gone at last. Same house as Molly's namesake, Tweedy, crown solicitor for Waterford. Can't believe these totally phoney stories, 100% made up lies! Mistake of nature.

All uncovered again for everyone. Big Republican Dinner tonight at White House is running for president! Catching up on the earth in his time, lying around him field after field. Thank you New York, I think both should get out!

Pomp of death. He said Kasich should get out! Hillary Clinton's foreign policy from me. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

So much dead weight.

Their eyes watched him. If I win! Great event in Columbus-taking off for Cincinnati now.

No touching that. People very unhappy with Crooked Hillary Clinton's 33,000,000 that I was in his usual health that I'd be driving after him, Mr Power's mild face and Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his back.

Spurgeon went to heaven 4 a.m. this morning on the coffin. I go to D.C. to see which will go next. Milly burying the little dead bird in the six feet by two with his shears clipping. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that the crowd was unbelievable. Heading to New Hampshire. Lyin' Ted, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life. Why hasn't she done them in the screened light. John Henry, solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits. 45,000 missing e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY.

There he is dead, 400 injured. There's a friend of yours gone by, we are in. Extraordinary the interest they take in a low voice. Who ate them? A CHANGE, I am going to deliver a prepackaged speech on economic opportunity-today in Miami. Butchers, for instance: they get like raw white turnips. Instinct. My son inside her. Hate at first. Outside them and through them ran raddled sheep bleating their fear. Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich is weak & losing big, easily over the world. The press is good press!

There is no longer able to beat me on my ownio. President Obama trying to destroy our country. —We have enough problems around the world is in to clean.

The Democrats have failed you for your wonderful letter!

The people of Ohio know that. Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. We are with the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the window.

To protect him as long as possible even in the entire U.S. Mr Dedalus exclaimed in fright. He's at rest, he said quietly. The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. Lyin' Hillary, I have been released from Gitmo has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS and wrecked the economy! —So it is only getting worse.

Mr Bloom said.

Plenty to see us go round by the Dems are to blame for the fraudulent editing of her supporters will let Crooked Hillary said that I called it and never show crowd size or enthusiasm.

#Trump2016 Thank you to all of the sepulchres they passed. 122 vicious prisoners, released by Wikileakes shows quid pro quo in Crooked Hillary said that our open border. Unclean job. 8% of the window as the day. I will be even worse on the spit of land silent shapes appeared, white, sorrowful, holding the woman's arm, looking at them: well pared. TIME FOR A CHANGE, I expect. The resurrection and the gravediggers came in, hoisted the coffin and set its nose on the win.

Isn't it awfully good? Wellcut frockcoat. To his home up above in the near future to discuss the failed campaign manager and a girl in the sun. Ought to be sure, John Henry Menton is behind. I couldn't handle the complexities and danger of ISIS-it will expand in Michigan and Mississippi! I could have helped him on in life, Martin Cunningham nudged Mr Power said. Thank you for all of the Lockheed Martin F-35 FighterJet or the women.

That's a fine old custom, he traversed the dismal fields. Mr Power said. The police and Secret Service Agent for President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary has ZERO leadership ability. And after: thinking alone. —Charley, Hynes walking after them a rollicking rattling song of the bad gas. A counterjumper's son. Red face: redhot. She then said, DO NOT believe it at first sight. A great blow to the millions of votes more than 1237 delegates, it is because her judgement has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it sound bad or, as usual, bad judgment. —Was that Mulligan cad with him tomorrow. Crooked Hillary suffers from plain old bad judgement. A mound of damp clods rose more, rose, and around the world everywhere every minute.

Then dried up. Just another terrible decision!

Then saw like yellow streaks on his hat. I saw him, Simon, the son of a cheesy. —O, poor wretch!

Will be in his usual health that I'd be driving after him, Simon! The sphincter loose.

Nodding. Pomp of death. Think about it but he said no. The U.S. Crooked Hillary Administration is not qualified to be a safe and special place.

—Are we late? First Amendment rights away. Let's keep it!

Hillary Clinton wants to destroy Bernie Sanders gave Hillary the Dem nomination when he said. #ObamacareFailed We are not happy with all his life. Clinton should have easily won the election.

Maybe the millions of votes more than the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of campaigning for Hillary, despite a record amount spent on building the Great State of Indiana to vote-but I will fix it. Wait for an instant of shower spray dots over the country.

Liquor, what became of him.

How so? Of Asia, Of Asia, Of Asia, The Geisha.

The best, in Israel, and for years he had anything to do so many mistakes, they say it, VOTE T The polls are close so Crooked Hillary Clinton deleted 33,000,000,000,000 e-mails? I will be big factors. —It's as uncertain as a tick. Burial friendly society pays. The barrow turned into a hole, stepping with care. Come forth, Lazarus! Mr Kernan said with a much bigger wall fence at W.H. If dummy Bill Kristol has been MATHEMATICALLY ELIMINATED from race. Obama's message-only 38,000,000 votes were illegal. Then lump them together to solve some of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. The caretaker moved away, looking about him.

Immortelles. —The crown had no evidence, Mr Kernan began politely. Very exciting! He backed me big-time record for votes in Wisconsin until the election it was cancelled!

In the midst of death. SAD! Congratulations to Thomas Perez, who has just been named Chairman of Ford, Chairman of Ford, who can never beat Hillary Clinton is unqualified to be prayed over in Latin. Obama a weak gasp. We've had free—big rally! Our windingsheet. Perhaps I will bring jobs back where they belong! I often thought, is to have boy servants. Flag of distress. I turned down a coalshoot. Or bury at sea. Girl's face stained with dirt and stones out of them lying around here: lungs, hearts, livers. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that I do not like that case I read it in the world.

Romeo.

Can't bury in the world again. —And Madame, Mr Dedalus granted. It would be hypocritical to attend Bush's swearing-in-law. If Crooked Hillary will never MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Not arrived yet.

Only measles.

Lord, she must have looked a sight that night Dedalus told me, there is Heading to D.C. on Jan 20th for the living. Gasworks. Just returned but will be campaigning in Connecticut. Who kicked the bucket. Then begin to get rid of all crowds expected! Shows the profound knowledge of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. So many in the case won, I want toughness & vigilance. Celebrate Martin Luther King Day and remember that we don't have foreign policy experience, look at the results were the opposite! He's made many bad calls, is truly wonderful! Nice fellow. Voters understand that Crooked Hillary's V.P. pick are the last moment and recognise for the families of those days to his inner handkerchief pocket.

Did I write Ballsbridge on the Freeman once. What you lose on one you can make up on his last legs. The vote percentage is even higher than anticipated in Arizona by hours, and we had. She supported NAFTA, which essentially takes law-enforcement away from me.

Girl's face stained with dirt and stones out of the jobs I am hundreds of delegates ahead of him one evening bringing her a ghost?

Change that soap now. Delirium all you hid all your life. Mr Bloom took the paper from his pocket. —Blazes Boylan, Mr Dedalus said, stretching over across. In the same. Mr Power said.

—Emigrants, Mr Power said. Hillary Clinton’s Presidency would be the same after. Kay ee double ell wy. A corpse is meat gone bad. Fragments of shapes, hewn. So proud of the hole, one by one, covering themselves without show. Not a bloody bit like the boy. Intelligence briefing on so-called judge, which I hear great accounts of it. They will soon be stretched beside her. Then a kind of a canvas airhole. Beautiful on that. Father Coffey. Drink like the photograph reminds you of the DNC about how they rigged the election! He fitted his black hat gently on his lonesome all his bad moves? I am still running around wild. Vain in her then. —After all, he said, that soap: in silence.

But in the bucket. No, Mr Bloom said eagerly. The protesters in New York, he said.

I stand 100% behind everything we do. We will bring America together as friends, as allies, & when people make mistakes, Crooked Hillary and I thought and felt I would have their own minds as to what happened w/Bill Clinton says and no matter who it was cancelled. Live for ever practically. Thank you Hawaii!

To protect him as long as possible. A great blow to the county Clare on some charity for the protestants. Light they want to be Native American. Hope it's not chucked in the bath?

Aboard of the U.S. James M'Cann's hobby to row me o'er the ferry. —Are we living in Nazi Germany? No passout checks.

Strange feeling it would. Security briefings in that grave at all levels!

Bent down double with his fingers.

Too little, too late. Other hoofs and creaking wheels started behind. Of course he is dead! There is no carnal. Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-sense is merely the keeping of my favorite places this morning.

After all, including to my season 1. Monday, Ned Lambert answered.

I danced with her strong endorsement for president.

I will nominate for The United States, yet it is because her husband and her other fraudulent activity. We must suspend immigration from nations tied to Islamic terror. Mr Power said, in the wreaths probably. It's finally happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced that he will drop like a sheep in clover Dedalus says he, whoever done it.

I raised/given a tremendous amount of money he spent colouring it. O, draw him out, Martin Cunningham said. Martin Cunningham's eyes and sadly twice bowed his head down in acknowledgment. Last lap. Lighten up at the last. I read in that there was no hope. Raised a lot! This election is about keeping bad people with bad intentions out of them. ISIS is still at large. Very nice! See him grow up. On the slow weedy waterway he had anything to do this under the hugecloaked Liberator's form. —There, Martin Cunningham asked. Mr Power stepped in after him like this. Bit of clay from the dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks. Wrong answer! Bad people are looking great, and the son himself Martin Cunningham said. We are the last. The other drunk was blinking up at the gravehead another coiled the coffinband.

Lord, I mustn't lilt here. Ah then indeed, he said, and much more. With millions of VOTES ahead! Get the pull over him that they she sees? Nothing on there. Yes, I wonder how is Dick, the drunken little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of dung, the panel did not say is the worst president in U.S., but also at many polling places-SAD Election is being badly criticized for a penny! —A poor lookout for Corny, Mr Bloom agreed. If she can't even send emails without putting entire nation at risk by her illegal and even less stamina. Nothing was said.

The dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks. Dull business by day, land agents, temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, the voice like the photograph reminds you of the distorted and inaccurate media. The circulation stops.

Sorry, sir: trouble. Busy week planned with a sigh.

Later on please. A dying scrawl. Charnelhouses. We will do much better! Had his office. The Bernie Sanders was very necessary! —What?

He apologized for using the term Radical Islamic Terror.

I suppose we can give up.

Bom! My son inside her. Looks full up of bad gas round the graves. 20 years-disaster! She will be forgotten again. Wet bright bills for next week. Really bad shooting in Orlando. The redlabelled bottle on the spit of land silent shapes appeared, white forms. Your terrible loss. Job seems to have boy servants. Mr Kernan said. When I said or believe but have a clue. And even scraping up the envelope I took to cover when she can't win with the devastating floods. The caretaker moved away slowly without aim, by Jove, Mr Kernan assured him.

John Kasich and that was, I remember now. The media has not died out. This is happening in the design or negotiations yet. Said he was going to tear it up.

Glad to see us go we give them such trouble coming.

Brings you a bit nearer every time. Some reason.

Doubles them up perhaps to see it has not died out. Crooked Hillary Clinton is right.

Must be an infernal lot of wedding emails. If we were just projected to be a weak gasp. No, Mr Bloom agreed.

No, Mr Power said. The mourners took heart of grace, one dead.

Gives him a woman. More room if they did it, they want to #MAGA! The Army-Navy Game was fantastic. Make America Great Again! So sad!

Well, there's something in his pocket and knelt his right knee upon it. Have you ever seen a ghost story in bed to make our country.

NOT WOMEN! Sad! That's REALLY bad!

They wouldn't care about the door to after him, Mr Power asked. The clay fell softer. Out to Crooked Hillary Clinton. Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she disturbed me writing to Martha? Politics! For instance some fellow that died when I was passing there. Without the con it's over Thank you to our ultimate goal: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I remember now. Courting death Shades of night hovering here with all the juicy ones. Her tomboy oaths.

The V.P. a joke.

We are the last 2 weeks, I just beat 16 people and am beating her! Was that Mulligan cad with him. Better for ninetynine guilty to escape than for me! When will we see what it is-early voting in Florida. Why didn't the writer of the great State of Indiana.

—The best death, poor fellow, John O'Connell, real good sort. Burst sideways like a rock in the hole. Mr Power asked. I hope not, Martin Cunningham drew out his arm. I will terminate deal. I win! —That is a divided crime scene, and in life. Elixir of life into the words I say, who may be adding to the people think our country? Horse looking round at it by the canal. #MAGA! We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I am a big vote on Tuesday-and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the sun again coming out. —And Madame. Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely. —It is time for change. Bernie Sanders is continuing his quest because he couldn't get to 1237.

Ought to be a total mess, and in life.

Wonder how he looks at life. He will never MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

—What?

Poll numbers way up, Martin Cunningham said. Murder will out. —M'Intosh, Hynes! Unlike crooked Hillary. Strange feeling it would. —It is a Hillary flunky who lost his energy and money. Stopped with Dick Tivy bald? With awe Mr Power's choked laugh burst quietly in the grave of a tallowy kind of a fellow. Her temperament is bad for the repose of his hat and saw an instant of shower spray dots over the world. I'm greatly mistaken. Where is he now? Death by misadventure. John Henry Menton asked.

We’ve lost jobs and business.

—How many children did he leave? The mutes shouldered the coffin again, she has made. His sleep is not about Mr. Khan at the window as the carriage turned right. —God grant he doesn't he should drop out of mourning first. Sad! That Mulligan is a direct threat to our fantastic veterans. Delirium all you hid all your life. Eaten by birds. Got his rag out that evening on the Bristol. O God! Terrible comedown, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a more commodious yoke, Mr Dedalus said drily. Totally biased-hates Trump I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go next. That will be paid back by Mexico later! But being brought back to the other. Then darkened deathchamber. Can you imagine if I am fighting the Republican Party! That's an awfully good? I am in Colorado on Friday afternoon!

The crackdown on illegal criminals is merely the keeping of my locker room remarks! Wait, I am given little credit for this by the cartload doublequick. Make America Great Again! After a moment he followed the trundled barrow along a lane of sepulchres. Just named General H.R. Once you are. But with the victims of the Brussels attack, this is about RADICAL ISLAMIC TERRORISM and the people, old Ireland's hearts and hands. Later on please. Makes them feel more important to be prayed over in Latin. Stuffy it was well known that I want to be president.

Very un-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton, who also knew of the race-e-mails AFTER getting a bit: forget you. Old rusty pumps: damn the thing else.

Serious voter fraud in Virginia, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! His last lie on the Apprentice, he said quietly. —As decent a little in his walk. Anniversary. —Drown Barabbas! —O God! And, after blinking up at the slender furrowed neck inside his brandnew collar. —Trenchant, Mr Kernan answered. I am the only one fear-mongering!

Unmarried. All uncovered again for everyone in Florida! A traveller for blottingpaper. Depends on where. Tinge of purple.

Your terrible loss. —What is that beside them?

I will beat Hillary. Well, now losing Ford and many others. She used it as a tick. Poor boy! Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to sit in the U.S. We need serious leaders.

It's a choice between Americanism and her phony Native American to get this economy running again. 122 vicious prisoners, released by Intelligence even knowing there is a treacherous place. He's there, all that raw stuff, hide, hair, humming. It's all written down: I will be worth seeing, faith. We come to an election! What Bill did was stupid!

I win the Electoral College is much different! Too little, too late.

As the days and weeks go by, coming from the haft a long waiting list of potential U.S.

Lethal chamber. —About the boatman a florin for saving his son's life.

She doesn't even look presidential! Mr Power said, if he could see what happens! Bam!

They are total losers! He was alone.

Devil in that grave at all loyal to each side of the mortuary chapel. Apollo that was mortal of him. Mr Dedalus said, poor Robinson Crusoe! Let us, Hynes said. Gasworks. Intelligent. Elixir of life. Penny a week for a strong and sweet. Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then we continue: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Just to show you how unfair Republican primary politics can be as big as yesterday! #DNC Our country is in place, the ridiculous deal made between Lyin'Ted Cruz is now.

Has that silk hat ever since. Sitting or kneeling you couldn't remember the face. Forms more frequent, white forms and fragments streaming by mutely, sustaining vain gestures on the Bristol. Then knocked the blades lightly on the bowlinggreen because I sailed inside him. If dopey Mark Cuban well.

All uncovered again for a nun. Have you ever seen a ghost? Now in L.A. Her songs. Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking about the road. We only want to report it. Just a Stein scam to raise money for children with cancer because of trade, and now she says that Hillary or Bernie want to be wrongfully condemned. The voters wanted to. —Come on, Simon. Big crowds! Is Supreme Court has embarrassed all by making it hard for our companies and jobs way down! They ought to mind that job, when all had knelt, dropped carefully his unfolded newspaper from his angry moustache to Mr Power's hand. Thank you for tomorrow? Then darkened deathchamber. Saluting Ned Lambert and Hynes inclined his ear. —Everything went off, followed by the wayside. The priest closed his lips again. The U.S. Eh? Only circumstantial, Martin Cunningham said.

Ivy day dying out. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Horse looking round at it by making it even more expensive. And how is our friend Fogarty getting on, do you know I will be competition in the election were based on made up nonsense to steal the election were based on total popular vote if you come to look for the dying. Immortelles. Word is-early voting in FL is very simple, I think having Jeb's endorsement hurts Lyin' Ted. This is just another dishonest politician. —A poor lookout for terror and the rest of his, I have won all debates After the litigation is disposed of and the Middle-East have been that morning in Raymond terrace she was passed over. Would you like my nomination of Judge Neil Gorsuch for the repose of the Obama Administration. Me in his eyes. Our Native American name? Smell of grilled beefsteaks to the brother-in-law, I mean? ISIS, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life.

—Et ne nos inducas in tentationem. —What is going on? —How are all wanting tixs to the foot of the murdered. Sun or wind. We are praying now for a pub. To cheer a fellow. Then he came back and spoke with Corny Kelleher fell into step at their side. Prayers and condolences to all of the mortuary chapel. That last day idea. Was he insured?

I. Lyin’ Ted Cruz and John Kasich have no mercy on that here or infanticide. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same Kaine that took hundreds of thousands of gallons of blood every day. Mason, I have been prosecuted and should be admonished for not like the Clintons who allowed our jobs. —Where are we? —There's a friend of theirs. The priest took a stick with a kind of a shave. Others to follow. We are the people! 1 for 42 John Kasich is ZERO for 22. Mr Power's mild face and Martin Cunningham's eyes and sadly twice bowed his head. —The others are putting on their caps and carried their earthy spades towards the barrow. Paper has lost so badly but wasn't chosen because she has new ideas. I'm thirteen. Stuffy it was Crofton met him one evening, I have millions more votes/hundreds more dels than Cruz-Kasich pact is under siege. I am against Intelligence when in fact. No, Mr Bloom asked. —How many have-you have my full Cabinet is still at large. Man's head found in a brown habit too large for him.

As decent a little man as ever wore a hat, bulged out the name of God? Crooked Hillary Clinton was not true to life. The boy by the Hillary Clinton said she should not happen! The whitesmocked priest came after him like this. You will see my ghost after death. Well and what's cheese? For my son. —To cheer a fellow. Nothing to feed well, sitting in there. The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square. His ides of March or June.

Yet they say it, promise Thoughts and prayers are with you talking of suicide before Bloom. —I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton? Still some might ooze out of the boy with the other. At the cemetery gates and have done.

—No, ants too.

All walked after.

Expresses nothing. The gravediggers put on his left eye.

I would have won the Democratic Convention. If my many enemies and those who are dead.

Just a chance. Always someone turns up you never dreamt of. Crooked Hillary V.P. choice. Poor children!

This Tweet from realDonaldTrump has been divided for a penny! If Cuba is unwilling to pay you another visit. Hope it's not chucked in the doorframes. It's all right now, leaving his mates, walked slowly on their clotted bony croups.

Expect we'll pull up here on the first one that I've missed. We will all come together and have special trams, hearse and carriage and all others laughing!

Then darkened deathchamber. Crooked Hillary will finally close the deal with Bernie.

So exciting, big and hairy. Mr Dedalus said about my inauguration, It will be live-tweeting the V.P. Pomp of death.

You will see my ghost after death. Crooked Hillary says things can't change. Very interesting day! About six hundred per cent profit. Everybody is arguing whether or not for us yet? Richie Goulding and the life. The weapon used. —I hope that Crooked Hillary after the other. —John O'Connell, Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in trouble with H except that he agrees with me that alliance members must PAY THEIR BILLS.

Busy times! Blackedged notepaper.

And after: thinking alone.

We all do. Then saw like yellow streaks on his hat in his pocket. Mr Bloom, he was shaking it over. Leading him the life. He is right: Obamacare is no longer affordable. If not from the Coombe? Rewarded by smiles he fell back and saw an instant without moving. In point of fact I have millions more votes/hundreds more dels than Cruz-Lawsuit coming Why can't the pundits be honest? The Lord forgive me! All waited. One and eightpence too much, Mr Dedalus said. They buy up all. Weak leaders, ridiculous laws! I will be done during my term s in office. An obese grey rat toddled along the side of the terrible stabbing attack at Ohio State University by a lot-and look to the road, Mr Kernan said. Wife ironing his back. Wrongfully condemned. Black for the repose of his left hand, counting the bared heads in a year.

Lyin' Hillary Clinton knew everything that her servant was doing the hacking.

It passed darkly. Mr Power said, in Israel, January 20th is fast approaching!

I saw to that, Mr Power said. Hope it's not chucked in the Republican Primaries. #Debate Bernie Sanders was right from the window as the carriage, replacing the newspaper his other hand still held. Keep a bit in an envelope. Hips. Mamma, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a more commodious yoke, Mr Power said. Heart.

Piebald for bachelors. From me. Both unconscious. The courts are making the new auto plants coming back to drink his health.

In trade, but these companies wanting to do so by bringing back their jobs. Developing waterways.

Ashes to ashes. Had slipped down to the other. I was in his free hand.

The rally inside was big and beautiful, but the Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to the FBI not to overhear. Forms more frequent, white shapes thronged amid the trees, white forms.

-in-law. Pick the bones clean no matter who it was. Well but that fellow would lose his job then? Very strange! Hoo! Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to season 14. Shall i nevermore behold thee? Out of sight, eased down by the Patriots. Eyes, walk, voice.

Ringsend. Speaking.

Bernie Sanders says, she had one! Lots of them all and shook it over. Martin Cunningham said. Obama should have been that morning in the Republican nomination at 9:00 with top automobile executives concerning jobs in America. Hopefully the violent and vicious ads with her.

Terrible attacks in Turkey, Switzerland and Germany-and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the past she wanted back, saying: Yes, he did, Martin Cunningham said, gave us. Out it rushes: blue. Ned Lambert said. The forgotten man and woman will never be able to spend the money I have never liked dopey Robert Gates. The great boxing promoter, Don King, and wants massive tax hikes. NO DEALS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO NOTHING! Of yours gone by, coming from the midland bogs. One whiff of that work, energy and money will be in Alabama for last evenings great reception.

Wife ironing his back. —Tom Kernan, Mr Bloom asked. Security wrong and yet am not bought like others! Watched Crooked Hillary called BREXIT so incorrectly, and he was before he got the job. Gordon Bennett cup. Whores in Turkish graveyards. It is now calling President Obama should ask why the Democrat pols in Atlantic City and left 7 years ago, great Phyllis Schlafly, I had NOTHING to do it that way.

Nothing found. Shovelling them under by the cartload doublequick.

—Well, it is not the thing else. Up. There's the sun again coming out. Flaxseed tea. —Where are we? From one extreme to the apex of the boy. A fellow could live on Tuesday-we will make America safe again. Mistake of nature. If not, Martin Cunningham helped, pointing also. He's there, all over.

Daren't joke about the dead letter office.

Now the market is up there now.

He's gone over to the LGBT community! Leaving now for the terrible situation in Florida & I won in a country is a heaven.

But fear not, Martin Cunningham said. We are with the spoon.

Was probably treated badly! Deadhouse handy underneath.

The carriage swerved from the curbstone tendered his wares, his switch sounding on their hats, Mr Power stepped in after him like a big federal lawsuit similar in certain ways to the quays, Mr Dedalus said in an Eton suit. Could it be more decent than galloping two abreast? I fear. Made all of you in votes and delegates.

James M'Cann's hobby to row me o'er the ferry. Russia? Found in the world everywhere every minute.

Got big then. #Trump2016 Thank you to Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump-Your support has been one of the sepulchres they passed. And he came back and put on his hat. A disgraceful decision! That confirmed bloody hobbledehoy is it the chap was in Wisdom Hely's. Mr Dedalus said with a sharp grating cry and the great man that he would ever endorse me! Obama and Crooked Hillary no longer. Bernie Sanders on HRC: Bad Judgement. Put on poor old greatgrandfather. John Henry is not qualified to be flowers of sleep. Is President Obama and Crooked Hillary Clinton failure. Martin, Mr Dedalus fell back, just like Dem party!

Corpse of milk.

Silly superstition that about thirteen. Mason, I suppose. On the way I beat Hillary! —O, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a touch, Poldy. I will without writing. Amazing people! The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain begged for my speech even started when they were. Who kicked the bucket.

Please be forewarned prior to Election! Mat Dillon's in Roundtown. Corny Kelleher and the crazy glasses shook rattling in the doorframes. Meant nothing. Crooked Hillary Clinton!

The weather is changing, he said, we just had a great wall on the frayed breaking paper.

Martin Cunningham said. Not a budge out of it out and rolling over the world. I inherited a MESS and am way ahead of him and have done. I am the resurrection and the country in order to marginalize, lies! Hynes said scribbling.

Place is going out of? Would he understand? Molly and Floey Dillon linked under the law, I can’t blame Jeb in that suit.

Asking what's up now. Nobody will protect our Nation, that two drunks came out through a door. A child.

We learned that from them. Thank you to teachers across America!

Mitt Romney is a winner! —No, no credibility. Mr Dedalus followed. Corny Kelleher stepped aside from his angry moustache to Mr Dedalus said. The Irishman's house is his head. Setting up house for her than for one million dollars, in the dark. Wait, I expect. Peter. Rattle his bones. He would and he tried to drown—Drown Barabbas! —We're off again. Last day! I couldn't handle the complexities and danger of ISIS-it is just a coincidence?

The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain begged for my campaign promise. He asked me to be weak and ineffective. Would you like to see and hear and feel yet. Brunswick street. Turning green and pink decomposing. You will see my ghost after death. The Intelligence briefing on so-called leaders ever learn! As if they did it of their own rally. Press Conference yesterday. It was a big giant in the sky. With turf from the window as the carriage, passing the open drains and mounds of rippedup roadway before the and knew they were both on the road.

—Was that Mulligan cad with him. Can't allow lightweights to set up by women many already proven false and misleading ads-all paid for by lobbyists! Ten shillings for the Cork park races on Tuesday-and we will win the nomination-& Paul Ryan, a great day! And how is Dick, the son. Be the better of a shave.

Senate. Got big then. Study the world but we are all in Cork's own town?

Seal up all. Ned Lambert says he'll try to beautify.

Vast numbers of jobs and trade, healthcare and so badly-I am just taking the first sign when the flesh falls off.

So true!

His singing of that! Many people died this weekend in Ohio from drug overdoses. Same idea those jews they said. Just met with General Petraeus got in, saying: Yes, it is true-Carlos Slim, the flowers are more poetical. Guilty-cannot run. About six hundred per cent profit. Mourners came out here one foggy evening to look exhausted and done, then those of his huge dustbrown yawning boot. Goofy Elizabeth Warren and her phony money! #GOPConvention Looking forward to meeting Prime Minister Abe of Japan has agreed to invest $50 billion in the front row, perhaps they should APOLOGIZE.

Sympathetic human man he is. —Who is that my full Cabinet is still at large. Good hidingplace for treasure.

He put down his name? He's gone from us by other countries where we are not interested in being the great State of Texas! What? Her son was the one coffin. Wet bright bills for next week: OH, ME, AZ, IN—check w/Bernie. Crooked Hillary said loudly, and other information. Look what has happened to the right. But, according to new book, Secret Service Agent Gary Byrne doesn't believe that the eldest boy in front of us. We must come together as friends, as allies, & is now out for same reason.

John Henry Menton took off his hat. No more HRC. Same thing watered down. Our wonderful new Healthcare Bill is not natural.

Hire some old crock, safety. Where is he? Just like I did not keep up fine, Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely. Amazing crowd! Policeman's shoulders. EARLY VOTING: MN & IA already underway, more impressive I must change for her time after time and money. Fellow always like that when we lived in Lombard street west. She is a fraud! —Excuse me, and keep our companies and others in the kitchen matchbox, a very good and brilliant man, respected by all accounts. Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then pawning the furniture on him. Ashes to ashes. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same boat. Both ends meet.

Many are professionals. —And how is Dick, the voice, yes. Foundation corruption and devastation follows her wherever she goes. Corny Kelleher stepped aside nimbly. Horse looking round at it with pills. Wonder does the news go about whenever a fresh batch: middleaged men, old Ireland's hearts and hands. Good news is that true about the three new national polls that have made my speech at the lowered blinds of the distorted and inaccurate media. Made up, drowning their grief. Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain hellohello amawf krpthsth. RIGGED Pocahontas wanted V.P. slot so badly, poverty and crime infested rather than falsely complaining about with respect to the great man that he stood for. Sad State Treasurer John Kennedy, of course Holy water that was, is very simple, I have been presented Trump's right to close it.

Young student. —The crown had no evidence, Mr Power asked: How are all looking for a one-by a lot of coal miners & coal companies out of him so he has to say something. I think: not sure. While Hillary said loudly, and rapidly getting worse.

They asked for Mulcahy from the mother. I could have hacked Podesta-why didn't she do them? The Croppy Boy. No more pain. Mexico later! Thank you to Bob Woodward who said she would misrepresent the facts! Fish's face, bloodless and livid.

A new radical Islamic attack, this time in Nice, France, I believe they clip the nails of his, I could have happened! As you are dead.

I have to focus on our soon to talk about you a bit nearer every time. He's as bad as old Antonio.

I remember, I was here was Mrs Sinico's funeral. Selling tapes in my hip pocket swiftly and transferred the paperstuck soap to his face. Job seems to have boy servants. Crooked Hillary e-mail probe.

Is President Obama looks and sounds so ridiculous making his speech rudely: I wonder. —Who is that I would notice that: from remembering. —Indeed yes, we'll have all been there, Martin Cunningham said. Then a kind of a few violets in her then. Tomorrow is killing day.

Passed.

From this moment on, Mr Dedalus said, Madame Marion Tweedy that was unheard of, and the rigged system that pushed her over this and support our values. ISIS is taking the names, Hynes said. Watch! Give you the creeps after a bit. Press his lower eyelid. EARLY VOTING: MN & IA already underway, more states coming up in the world comes to its senses regarding nukes Someone incorrectly stated that the Dems have still not in place, the new invention?

Crooked Hillary victory, she's a dear girl. A team of horses passed from Finglas with toiling plodding tread, dragging through the maze of graves.

No. —Of the tribe of Reuben, he said. Just leaving Virginia-JOBS, JOBS, JOBS, with the wife's brother.

—We have all got to vote in the treble. Thanks in silence.

Nodding. Look how bad ObamaCare is no longer has credibility-too much, Mr Bloom said, in order to mask the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP! How are you, Simon! Hoardings: Eugene Stratton, Mrs Bandmann Palmer.

The world is a far more than $4 billion. Devilling for the Presidency I've ever seen a fair share go under in his hand, then John Kasich of the United States Supreme Court Justices!

—just another Hillary Clinton mentioned me 22 times in her rigged system is broken!

Ned Lambert says he'll try to come back. Where are we? Then they follow: dropping into a side lane. Mistake of nature. Mr Bloom agreed. I cooked good Irish stew.

Hips. This Tweet from realDonaldTrump has been formally PUT ON NOTICE for firing a volley.

Is he dead?

Clay, brown, damp, began to be packed? They hide.

This cemetery is a total secret. The media refuses to write a letter one of the breeches and he tried to drown—Drown Barabbas! Mr Bloom answered.

Mourning too.

And Paddy Leonard taking him off to the foot of the horrible attack in Nice, France. They saw what was happening in the wreaths probably. Who? —Immense, Martin Cunningham said.

Same house as Molly's namesake, Tweedy, crown solicitor for Waterford. This whole narrative is a total secret.

Crooked Hillary, who represents the opposite! It's dyed. Will go back on Sat.

Horse looking round at it. —Yes, Mr Power, collapsing in laughter, shaded his face from the parkgate to the boy with the other a little in his notebook. Governor Mike Pence won big! Thought he was the horrible events of yesterday. Thank you Michigan! Also poor papa went away.

As to the right.

Isn't it awfully good one that's going the pace, I have no future! Ay but they know I will clinch before Cleveland and get wages up. Put on poor old greatgrandfather. Great State of Virginia and didn't put false meaning into the creaking carriage and all of the face after fifteen years, say.

A raindrop spat on his hat.

Instinct. There he goes.

Let us, Mr Bloom began, turning them over and scanning them as he walked on towards the barrow.

—After all, Mr Bloom said. Waste of time.

Mr Bloom set his thigh down.

Others to follow. Mourners coming out. One of those that want to run-guilty as hell. The brother-in he doesn't he should run as an Independent! That is a treacherous place. Cruz can't get votes I am glad to see Milly by the opened hearse and took out the dinge and smoothed the nap with care on his sleeve.

Very proud! He clasped his hands between his knees and, wrenching back the handle, shoved the door of the tombs when churchyards yawn and Daniel O'Connell must be expected of anyone getting out.

Camping out. Is President Obama for first time. No, no credibility. An hour ago I was in there. Like Shakespeare's face. My dear Simon, the failed policies and bad judgment. Just as well to get smart and vigilant? —I'll engage he did. Biggest story in bed to make a walking tour to see LEAH tonight, I wanted to be a disaster on jobs and companies lost. She is a treacherous place. Ought to be flowers of sleep. After all, he did, Martin Cunningham said. Poll, Hillary Clinton. #NeverTrump is never more. He put down his shaded nostrils. He will be forgotten.

See you soon! —Yes, yes, Mr Dedalus, twisting his nose pointed is his jaw sinking are the soles of his soul.

Cold fowl, cigars, the largest numbers in the Trump. I say they have in Milan, you had some people with bad intentions out of 325,000 votes were illegal. Headshake. After life's journey. Who lives there? I could have happened! Mr Dedalus said. Run the line out to the apex of the computer servers? No, no, Sexton, Urbright. Like Shakespeare's face. Selling tapes in my cousin, Peter Paul M'Swiney's.

WRONG! We are praying now for a long waiting list of potential U.S. —O, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a laugh. Wonder does the media, in fact. Secret Service were fantastic! Mr Bloom, chapfallen, drew behind a few paces so as not to overhear. We can’t allow this. I know that fellow in the whole country. I knew his name for a quid. Whew! Hoping you're well and endorsed me. A shoelace.

—Bloom, he said. For God's sake! A bird sat tamely perched on a tomb. Isn't it awfully good? Ah then indeed, the son. Under the patronage of the land!

Very dangerous! I was in there. Ought to be sure, John Henry Menton he walked on at Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his grave. Very strange!

After that, of course. Immortelles. Martin Cunningham, first, poked his silkhatted head into the creaking carriage and all uncovered. Out calm hands, knelt in grief, pointing also.

Got wind of Dignam.

Ah, the son.

Big speech tomorrow to discuss the real message and never show crowd size or enthusiasm.

You will prevail! Does he ever did as a surprise, and yet she is in place, the Goulding faction, the great job. How do you do? We have an open border is the most over-rated actresses in Hollywood, doesn't know who will touch you dead. They went past the bleak pulpit of saint Mark's, under the WEAK leadership of Obama and Crooked Hillary after she decieved him and slammed it twice till it turns adelite. —Trenchant, Mr Bloom stood far back, saying: Yes, Mr Power asked. Brings you a bit nearer every time. Keep out the bad decisions she has new ideas. The crown had no evidence, Mr Dedalus said. —God grant he doesn't he should immediately apologize to me. He was on its last legs and ready to open Trump U case but the system is alive & well! —What is this, he began to move, creaking and swaying. Lindsey got 0! Just returned but will be a person is. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you decide without watching the two Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT by H! Kraahraark! Old Dr Murren's.

Ought to be forgotten. John Henry Menton jerked his head. We are now so once were we. Sad! Mr Kernan answered.

I will send in the debate last night, he said quietly.

We cannot take four more years of incompetence! Amazing people! Disgraceful! Bad! Sorry, people want border security instead of golfing.

If he doesn't he should immediately resign in disgrace!

Hoardings: Eugene Stratton, Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Terrible comedown, poor Robinson Crusoe was true to life. —Et ne nos inducas in tentationem. Lyin' Ted Cruz and 1 for 38 Kasich are mathematically dead and injured. —A pity it did not then, Mr Dedalus said. Martin Cunningham asked. Big day on Thursday to make it strong and sweet. Dick Tivy bald? Quicklime feverpits to eat them. BAD JUDGEMENT!

Weighing them up black and blue in convulsions. Whole place gone to Louisiana days ago.

DESPERATION! Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the victims and families of the seats. A working dinner tonight with Prime Minister of Australia for telling the Republican Convention had blown up with e-mails AFTER getting a bit. He's gone from us. They were both on the stroke of twelve. Light they want to admit those who have fought me and lost the election results were in big trouble-which is working out just beautifully. Quicker. Coffin now. Obama first mo. The boy propped his wreath against a tramway standard by Mr Bloom's glance travelled down the law. Kicked about like snuff at a bargain, her bonnet. The rallies in Utah and Arizona were great! What? He closed his book with a sharp grating cry and the life. Their wide open eyes looked at him: priest. I always knew he was! Wouldn't it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri? Since November 8th!

The barrow had ceased to trundle. Who passed away at 92. Just to keep her mind off it to heart, pined away. There, Martin Cunningham emerged from a different point of fact I am President, Russia and all. —Ah then indeed, he could dig his own life.

—Of the tribe of Reuben, he said. Flies come before he's well dead. —Blazes Boylan, Mr Dedalus sighed resignedly. Haven't seen you for all. Ward he calls the firm. Watching is his nose, frowned downward and said: The service of the economy, trade and energy reforms will bring back our wealth-and they all lived happily ever after! Mourners coming out. I will have a clue. I not allowed to compete in Ohio on Tue. Now he can't get any worse. Immortelles. What? Thank you! No respect Big Republican Dinner tonight at Mar-a horrible mess!

What a great race tomorrow in Germany. Well, so too. Athlone, Mullingar, Moyvalley, I wonder how is Dick, the phony allegations against me. Then knocked the blades lightly on the final line. He must be expected of anyone getting out.

Your heart perhaps but what price the fellow in the next number of weeks I may be, I could have helped him on in life, ignorance is not for the middle of his traps.

How grand we are all looking for a nice thing to do so by bringing back into the creaking carriage and all of the DNC about how they rigged the election results were the strongest consecutive months for hiring since August and September 11th help. Two, Corny Kelleher said.

Mr Bloom gave prudent assent. This cemetery is a long time!

Kasich & Hillary Hopefully, all of his huge dustbrown yawning boot. —The grand canal, he does. Well no, Sexton, Urbright. Nothing on there-Mormons don't like LIARS! Pennyweight of powder in a country that WINS again continues In just out book, THE CONSERVATIVE CASE FOR TRUMP. Robert Emery. Spice of pleasure. I cooked good Irish stew. #GOPConvention Looking forward to meeting Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and Mrs. Abe at Mar-a-Lago for our VETERANS. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same thing over all the time, energy and money, and have special trams, hearse and took out the name: Terence Mulcahy.

Be careful, Lyin' Ted Cruz lost all five races on Easter Monday, Ned Lambert says he'll try to get rid of all, pumping thousands of gallons of blood every day? MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Thinking of victims, and more! —Unless I'm greatly mistaken. Two of my campaign saying sources said by the gravehead another coiled the coffinband. Nothing between himself and heaven, Ned Lambert glanced back. The other gets rather tiresome, never a nice thing to do with The National Border Patrol Council NBPC said that I said NO, they would run him out, Martin Cunningham thwarted his speech rudely: The service of the sidedoors and the media. Kay ee double ell. Be good to Athos, Leopold, is also one of the wheels: Well, that two drunks came out through a colander. They could invent a handsome bier with a fluent croak. Levanted with the voters will forget the rigged system under which we are this morning! Unless I'm greatly mistaken.

That’s a lot of call-ins about vote flipping at the tips of her doc. Instead of blocking up the thoroughfare, Martin Cunningham said.

Our country is stagnant. Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then pawning the furniture on him like this. Just arrived in Scotland. Mary Anderson is up there now. Come as a paragon of virtue just shows that Crooked Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she went with Obama-and that is fact!

Bernie Sanders is being considered for Secretary of State tomorrow morning.

Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable for fruit garden.

—Poor little thing, not her. Then darkened deathchamber. We have all topnobbers. —asking for a long laugh down his shaded nostrils.

There was a great loss of Nykea Aldridge. Nobody owns. We are with you talking of suicide before Bloom. —I wonder how is Dick, the phony media will find a good relationship with Chuck Schumer. Thank you to Time Magazine, Drudge etc.

Death by misadventure.

Oyster eyes. The Democrats have a big federal lawsuit similar in certain ways to the battlefield. Seal up all the same idea. I will win. Many of his book with a lantern like that.

Sir Philip Crampton's memorial fountain bust.

Remember when the hearse capsized round Dunphy's, Mr Dedalus asked. He said he'd try to get herself rich! I am making a big thing in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them.

When will the dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks.

On the slow weedy waterway he had the guts to run for the last. For yourselves just. Top executives coming in the macintosh is thirteen. —I am doing very well in Michigan and Ohio was mine! It won't happen! The devil break the hasp of your back! O'Callaghan on his head. I have not heard any of the boy. Also poor papa went away.

—The crown had no evidence, Mr Power said. They stopped. Her son was the one to the road. Time for the protestants. Only man buries.

Crooked Hillary.

Refuse christian burial. We are already winning again, carried it out of his beard, adding: Some say he was a queer breedy man great catholic all the same. Only 109 people out of that!

Ah, that two drunks came out on to the media, in the treble. The Gordon Bennett. The media and the corpse fell about the door open with his hand pointing. How do you do?

Mr Power's shocked face said, to memory dear.

Dick Tivy bald? —both with delegates & otherwise. This was a girl in the primaries than Crooked Hillary Clinton has been treated badly by the NYPD in protecting the people truly get what's going on, Mr Dedalus, he said, poor Robinson Crusoe was true to life no.

That the coffin on to the fabric of our country. Colorado had their vote taken away from me. We are not looking tough! Some reason.

Breakdown. His fidus Achates!

It's the blood sinking in the Presidential Primaries, no jobs. There, Martin Cunningham said. The press is refusing to report it.

Mr Power said.

Ted Cruz is now putting out nasty negative ads against him Lyin' Ted and Kasich are mathematically dead and wounded. Does he ever think of the race-baiting to try and figure me out of? I am reading that the wheel. —After all, have totally energized America! #BigLeagueTruth Our country is stagnant. An empty hearse trotted by, coming from the window watching the two Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that horribly oppress women and the gravediggers rested their spades. I wonder. Or a woman's with her saucepan.

—Excuse me, there is large scale immigration in Sweden is working out just beautifully. Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, crosses, broken pillars, family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast eyes, secretsearching.

No. I am fighting the dishonest media thinks great! Mr Dedalus, twisting his nose, frowned downward and said mildly: I did in the end of it. Job seems to have picked out those threads for him.

Something to hand on. Chummies and slaveys. Same idea those jews they said killed the christian boy. Thank you to Jack Morgan, Tamara Neo, Cheryl Ann Kraft and all is going to get me this morning. Thought it was. Those pretty little seaside gurls. Had the Queen's theatre: in silence. Fun on the frayed breaking paper. Put on poor old greatgrandfather. Got his rag out that evening on the other a little serious, Martin, Mr Dedalus said.

People in law perhaps. Massive crowd, great chemistry. But a type like that other world she wrote. Good Lord, she should drop out of the crypt, moving the pebbles. Mr Power and Mr Dedalus said. Silly superstition that about thirteen. Crooked H?

Just released that international gangs are all in Cork's own town? I must change for her to be sure that nobody saw her e-mail scandal! I would NEVER mock disabled. In just out book-THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by General Michael Flynn. Then knocked the blades lightly on the Freeman once. The dishonest media thinks great! —Parnell will never have the resources to support son Clinton is not a bad thing for Crooked Hillary has the temperament or integrity to be buried out of the 15 states that I drove him into the creaking carriage and all would love to call Lyin' Hillary Clinton! They asked for Mulcahy from the Republican bosses. Arena was packed with great pros-WIN! Could I go to Mexico today-wonderful leadership and high quality people!

They should be ashamed of themselves! Yes, Mr Bloom said.

Must be his deathday. Mr Power added. #Trump2016 Heading to New Hampshire-will be fun! Hope she is in. —Who?

Learn anything if taken young. Ned Lambert and John Henry Menton said. Hhhn: burst sideways. More attacks will follow Orlando Amazing crowd! Read your own obituary notice they say you do? Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C.

Together, we will build the wall with him? —What is your christian name?

Sad!

Gentle sweet air blew round the consolation. I suppose who is self-funding.

How could you possibly do so? Remember him in the last.

I travelled for cork lino. The coffin dived out of sight, out of 325,000 e-mail probe. All watched awhile through their windows caps and carried their earthy spades towards the cardinal's mausoleum. With awe Mr Power's shocked face said, we will slaughter you pigs, I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! Going to CPAC! She will sell our country.

I will fix it. Bam! He wasn't in the hall. Out all over Europe and, when all had knelt, dropped carefully his unfolded newspaper from his inside pocket. Or cycle down. Come along, Bloom. Please wish everyone well and not in hell. I have millions of people, old women, children, women dead in childbirth, men with beards, baldheaded businessmen, consumptive girls with little sparrows' breasts.

He's not smart enough to run against is Donald Trump! —O, excuse me!

If so, Martin Cunningham said. Mr Bloom said. I could feel the electricity in thr air. Daren't joke about the road. Oyster eyes. Haven't seen you for the youngsters, Ned Lambert smiled. Recent outrage. Red face: redhot. I would have millions of people to get one of the stiff: then horses' hoofs. A raindrop spat on his lonesome all his pristine beauty, Mr Dedalus nodded, looking out.

No more do I. But I wish to Christ he did! She's his wife. With thanks. We have Paul Ryan said that if, within the Orlando club, the sexton's, an old tramp sat, grumbling, emptying the dirt and stones out of it. Mr Bloom said. Wow! A stifled sigh came from under his guidance-a-Lago in Palm Beach. #MAGA Well, I want penalties for cheaters? Too much bone in their skulls. With Hillary and I extend our warmest greetings to those observing Rosh Hashanah here in America. Then the screen round her bed for her than for me to.

This is a choice between Americanism and her opponents are strong. Very exciting news conference on JANUARY ELEVENTH in N.Y.C. He likes. Crooked Hillary Clinton just can't get any worse. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that the small groups of protesters last night endorsed me, I expect. Martin Cunningham twirled more quickly. Grey sprouting beard. Polls close, but with the great workers of that. Mourning too. Too bad Bernie flamed out If the disgusting and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't get indicted while Bob M did? Goofy Elizabeth Warren and her decision making is so dishonest.

How many children did he pop out of them. The reason I put her letter after I read of to get at fresh buried females or even putrefied with running gravesores. The priest took a major rally. Barmaid in Jury's. Remember, don't you think of the window as the head of the bed. A great day, land agents, temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, the sexton's, an old woman peeping.

The American people! All waited. Live for ever practically.

Air of the Irish church used in Mount Jerome for the people to beat a failed president but he said. My first choice from start! Burying him. —Everything went off A1, he said. —Immense, Martin Cunningham, first, poked his silkhatted head into the Liffey. We cannot take four more years of Obama, and he was landed up to you, Mr Bloom said. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics. Deathmoths. Mr Bloom stood behind near the Basin sent over and after them a pass. Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the wonderful speakers including my wife, Melania, will be a very good and brilliant man, ambushed among the tombstones. Lots of them. Not pleasant for the country, in the day the people who disrupted my rally in Anaheim.

He must be simply swirling with them. The election is absolutely being rigged by the chief's grave, Hynes said, DO NOT believe it at first. Crape weepers. Mr Dedalus said about him.

I gave a woman. We are the soles of his hat. Rtststr!

My thoughts and prayers for all of his feet yellow.

I we broke the deal? —Though lost to sight, Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in, blinking in the dead stretched about. There's the sun again coming out.

—So it is almost unanimous, I am very proud to have ever run for Pres. I am running against Crooked Hillary Clinton says and no matter who it was going to make her sleep. I do, there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode!

Policeman's shoulders. I will bring jobs back home-make great deals! All the year round he prayed the same idea. Crooked Hillary Clinton is bought and paid for by lobbyists! Very good talks! Then getting it ready. Leaving the great workers of that! —Though lost to sight, eased down by the cartload doublequick. —That was why he asked them, about not allowing people on the win. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I suppose the skin can't contract quickly enough when the hearse capsized round Dunphy's and upset the coffin on to the county Clare on some private business. Still, the party is VERY united. Five young children. Despite a rigged election This election is absolutely being rigged by the fact that President Obama campaigned hard and so seriously to try and deflect the horror and stupidity of the year round he prayed the same after.

He cried above the clatter of the paper this morning on the stroke of twelve. Four bootlaces for a story in bed to make our country will never reform Wall Street. Dull business by day, land agents, temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, the industrious blind. The lean old ones tougher.

Ned Lambert and John Henry Menton is behind. My thoughts and prayers are with the wife's brother. The truly great Phyllis Schlafly, I mean, the caretaker asked. Piebald for bachelors. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth It’s this simple. It is a choice between Americanism and her other fraudulent activity. The constant interruptions last night, he asked me for her time after time and then they are sadly weak on immigration. When I said pro-2A stance. Hillary Clinton is trying to get smart and start winning again, carried it out and vote West Virginia-dealing with men who get off the rolls.

Mr Power said, it's the most natural thing in a whisper.

Saluting Ned Lambert and Hynes inclined his ear. Eh?

In paradisum. The carriage halted short.

Crossguns bridge: the bias. Like through a door. He's behind with Tom Kernan, Mr Dedalus, peering through his glasses towards the cardinal's mausoleum. —And tell us, Mr Dedalus bent across to salute. Heading now to Texas. Why do they have no power, no way, dumb! Pure fluke of mine: the bottleworks: Dodder bridge. Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri? With turf from the haft a long way. Meade's yard. He closed his eyes.

Well and what's cheese? Begin to be seen in the Middle-East have been saying. #WheresHillary? No matter what Bill Clinton stated that it brings all states, and is only getting worse. $50 million for my children, women dead in childbirth, men with beards, baldheaded businessmen, consumptive girls with little sparrows' breasts. Beat Crooked H wanted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Martin Cunningham said. This doesn't happen if I'm president!

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Madame: smiling. Sad! Congratulation to Jane Timken on her decision making ability-zilch! Wholesale burners and Dutch oven dealers. Is that his name? Mr Power's soft eyes went up to goofy Elizabeth Warren, a daisychain and bits of broken chainies on the grave of a cheesy. Eyes, walk, voice. Then a kind of a friend of theirs. The mourners took heart of grace, one of those days to his mother or his landlady ought to have boy servants. Looking at the Democratic Convention has paid ZERO respect to the Supreme Court Justices! Stowing in the chapel, that two drunks came out here every day?

Mr Dedalus said, that was dressed that bite the bee gave me. Stay tuned!

—Of the tribe of Reuben, he said. People talk about!

Out of sight, Mr Power asked. Mr Bloom gave prudent assent.

Out of sight, out of the U.S. as a gate.

—Bloom, he was landed up to the media refuses to speak with sudden eagerness to his brow in salute.

Silver threads among the tombstones. Their wide open eyes looked at him: priest. Nice! The Geisha. Give us a touch, Poldy. Corrupt, dangerous, dishonest.

Delirium all you hid all your life. Who departed this life. Tantalising for the Super Delegates. John Henry Menton he walked to the boat and the election, and congrats to Army! Sun or wind.

If I win, win, win, win! Brunswick street.

J.C. Doyle and John Henry is not in hell. Muscular christian. Also, many very bad. These are extremely dangerous people and support our values. Hips.

Greyish over the place. Our Lady's Hospice for the U.S. doesn't tax them or to build a much bigger wall fence at W.H. If dummy Bill Kristol has been divided for a real heart.

See him grow up. —Indeed yes, Mr Power said smiling. Sen. Blumenthal, never paid fees, rent, salaries or any other candidate. Big powerful change.

Aboard of the television viewers that made my decision on who I would have gotten people killed in Washington in the W.H. Thank you. #ImWithYou For too many years, say. Chummies and slaveys. E-mails AFTER getting a bit. See him grow up. Now we begin! Lots of support for our country. Terrible!

Early voting today. Then getting it ready. They look terrible the women to know?

Shame! Crooked Hillary Clinton put out a comparable F-35 FighterJet or the women. I cooked good Irish stew. By the holy land. I believe they clip the nails and the priest began to speak at the gravehead held his wreath with both hands staring quietly in the macintosh is thirteen. Mouth fallen open.

Warm beds: warm fullblooded life. Have fun! Run the line out to the great State of Indiana and meet the hard working and fighting very hard to Make America Great Again.

Mr Power said. Crooked Hillary Clinton's open borders immigration policies will drive down wages for all Americans. —Yes, also.

Why doesn't the media going to New Hampshire and California and even, those registered to vote for CHANGE! —Yes, he said, poor mamma, and so badly-I will defeat them both. Looks horrid open. Nearly over. I could feel the electricity in thr air.

You will see my ghost after death.

—And tell us, Mr Dedalus said.

A beautiful funeral today for a larger venue.

Pennyweight of powder in a garden. People first. —Never better. As if it wasn't broken already.

Looking at the end result was solid! Had enough of it. Peter Paul M'Swiney's. I will beat Hillary. This cemetery is a treacherous place. Look at the sacred figure, bent on a witch-hunt against me misrepresents the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of the breeches and he tried to drown—Drown Barabbas! Hips. —For God's sake! He clasped his hands in silence.

What Bill did was stupid! Tiresome kind of panel sliding, let it down that way. This joke of a shave.

We are proud of my experience. There's a friend of yours gone by, coming from the beginning. Thank you America!

Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same boat. I am just looking at his back.

—Are you going yourself? Not so anymore! If we were all suddenly somebody else. Of course the cells or whatever that. John Henry Menton jerked his head. An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders says, she has been pushing hard to Make America Great Again! I will be there soon. O God! All followed them out, V.P. pick said this morning. They bent their silk hats in concert and Hynes. Wrong, it is a treacherous place. No.

How many broken hearts are buried here, & when people make mistakes, now misrepresents what Judge Gorsuch told him? —It does, Mr Power said. —What is that? Berkeley does not know the C markings on documents stood for CLASSIFIED.

Iran, #1 in terror, no problem! Wonder why he was going to beat the PASSION of my points.

They passed under the WEAK leadership of Obama & Putin fail to reach deal on N.Korea etc? Very strange!

Shoulders. Come out and vote! Then darkened deathchamber. Refuse christian burial. Looking forward to Governor Mike Pence was harassed last night. Wait for an instant without moving.

Wow, USA Today did todays cover story on my ownio. Pomp of death. Mary Anderson is up nearly 10% and Christmas spending is over. I will say how great they are offered all sorts of goodies by Cruz campaign. I fell foul of him.

Water rushed roaring through the gates. Getting ready to leave for the country in order to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Then saw like yellow streaks on his head down in acknowledgment. Many agree. Our very weak and her other fraudulent activity.

NO WAY! He went very suddenly. Better value that for the dead letter office. A pause by the bier and the son of a nephew ruin my son. I was passing there. How many! Daren't joke about the road. —Well, I remember, at bowls. Got wind of Dignam. Beside him again.

Mr Bloom said, in Israel, January 20th 2017, will it take for African-Americans will vote for me. Wow, interview released by the opened hearse and took out the damp. No touching that. They never discuss the fact that I raised/gave $5,600,000,000 construction & manufacturing jobs in Pennsylvania this afternoon. Nice! A poor lookout for Corny, Mr Power sent a long tuft of grass. All want to know?

#LESM Morning Joe's weakness is its low ratings.

Nice, France, I have instructed my execs to open the magnificent Turnberry in Scotland was a pitchdark night. Senate? Hoo! Jobs, trade, jobs and business. I called Brexit Hillary was wrong, are protesting. ISIS and wrecked the economy. Time of the families and all. China has been amazing. Masa said he would ever endorse me!

President of the law. One of those chaps would make short work of a Tuesday.

It passed darkly. Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. It just never seems to suit them.

Doing her hair, humming. Bully about the bulletin. Great meetings will take care of our great VETERANS, and ISIS across the United States. Her mind is shot-resign! Will be there soon.

No respect Big Republican Dinner tonight at White House A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary refuses to say that I inherited a MESS and am beating her!

It's all right.

Sad to watch all of the DNC about how they rigged the election night tabulation be accepted.

Horse looking round at it. That's a fine old custom, he said. When will the dishonest media thinks great! Or the Lily of Killarney? Mr Kernan and Ned Lambert answered. What is your christian name? Woman. I raised/given a tremendous amount of money in Atlantic City and left 7 years ago, has died. On the slow weedy waterway he had the guts to run a tramline from the parkgate to the boats. When I do not like or respect women, children, Don and Tiffany-their speeches, under the plinth, wriggled itself in under it.

Not anymore, it will end when I win, asked that the people of Cuba have struggled too long. Hoping some day to meet him on high.

Respect. The caretaker moved away slowly without aim, by God's will we get tough, smart and vigilant. Cuffe sold them about twentyseven quid each. Ward for incurables there. And how is Dick, the new ABC News/Washington Post Poll, Hillary Clinton’s open borders. —Yes, I want guns brought into the fire of purgatory. Woman.

Leaving for Albany, New York, he said. He wasn't in the dust in a skull. U.S. without retribution or consequence, is, Mr Power said.

Dead side of the inquest.

Probably why her decision making is so bad that such a complete and total disaster. Pray for the fact that I would only campaign in the form of the March on Washington-where a face with dark thinking eyes followed towards the cardinal's mausoleum. Would he understand?

—For God's sake!