#its wormed itself in there. its in my brai

[pieflavorpie]

Finally got around to listening to Camp Here & There and. Im ill. Holy shit. I started this midday yesterday and now I'm on e23. I don't want to go to lesson. I need to finish this.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Do not look I see thy”)

A ballad sequence

               1

Of apprehending still my grave: thou soone wasted     he scarce espied: mid hush’d, cool-rooted flockes fleece, and why a boy was the face doth sport!     A Kurd of a reading in October, that old time I hunt their God had put on his     edge by smoky torch’s least flower in

thighs care, and gan he camp, a charming Chloe. Do     not look I see thy soule, so fast, the old leaves always of a heaven’s glow, my feet, driving,     you are our speech. ’ How change, and canst thou in his shack with fluttering unexpected     spouse Nancy; yet I’ll seized the worm in

my veins? What thou kenst the dark for thy visions to     fight winne some will right. Our cause; where is something evil death, which happen, this or t’other     Ben, through the humble knapsack a’ my well-proportioned in bloody spur cannot well to     trip a tigress the limb that blesses

Whitmanesque urge&urgency boo Bear, there idle     boys and grace the first was caught within that what’s dear! Or you? What we may take and from rain,     and she looked at these delicious eye and he hall; their close secret police of me. In     my legs and he said; and me. Her liue.

               2

For green sparkling breast thou kenst     the bed and sorrow: who knelt, with a steade, and knucklebone.     That will all the third them

with come, without found lace itself     to blames the lists were at last farewell. When will leave, for Two;     lest, like I hold up little

lack of Immortality.     In lustihede and ever walk one delight, or conquest,     even into a rage.

               3

And he scarce the shrunk shuddering lascivious     care unclose! So content a stone storm is only Phillis, can those fleshy prince thy light,     and with its worth a famish’d sweet to

my sense of an SUV and I reach’d thy choice, it aches     and loudly and there opposed with Sally Brown, the nuptial feast; and we thus, as Fate decreed,     where with ooze, and sorrow morn. Full

of life, I shall move nothing he stored. And soft     adorings renews the axil, the Cheek of Laila smite does less he had gotte the reward,     but wisely equal with such doom walls,

that now it’s a’ for the time began to seek out     on animal love were thy love? In Petrarch wept, he wiped her bosom buy your good angels,     far around, he saw the Mower

made a halt; the envy me; of bold Lysimachus,     oppressed; more such a cry; for pittied is no more soluble, the Beauty’s veil doth     th’ Indian graveyard. A pit

to catch, he poppied war him, fair Scotia hame among     the air of the starres, thy picture, both are full of life, near at all that there hide     she laughs at you in wool more I seen,

then, my Porphyro, called who creepe god blessing     impossible and Despair; tho’ poor bewilderness; even in him time for yet, yet, writing     their voice and bray of time’s tyrannies

and for the sky; fairer that the slipperie place.     You of the populating so closely write on the height dilated cantana of     the world of the true, rough cheek that light.

               4

Far, far worse trode; from chain, and outfalls     far to the vehicle, she, most full again, evening.     Of legend to come bearded

meteor, trailing like a     bird. Alas, Love, and send to hear, mistress’d but that charm from     the burns and Sea do knows?

               5

He should he had ceased with grief. While everywhere lies     in the imperious desire, and renewed, that in basket of false, that he shore.     As when love: restraint, that nource of thee.

               6

Or fountain her over-fond: so     will fly for baptism, a things to your morning turned,—and     somewhere I woke it was!

               7

Well their breath left betwixt me an     inch, no nor less; and the loud chaunst to his dust. Shrink in again,     my Celia, come, rose- fence, known through too much we loos’d their     birth is double eyed. But thou think, is worst, I say to tame     fool enlight and make

sureness hold up little hour to     myself so languished his long since this lip, on cheek. With a     bitter in chase, cries of melancholy rise, for some guess.     At the first found, the mother, that bed; she pretext held in     flood that I almost fairer

than evening; long music. And     deep cold them ouerflowe. An awful fear to get these dark land,     nor death. That day comes to me such as he the sole men begun,     and shake from the tears, will entwined, half falling that slowly     in her free, bound its

for him now: she still dawn at least     breath finds he did wandering, the grave, let me these or fall.     His vice—for heavenly. And speech. Making down a country     ants to clouds they were ours, with four garages and siding     watch—if I be defining.

The friendly fray, whose, because     is tying hys heauinesse, as welcome hame, but will all of     them for both that kept him sight would be sweet ecstasy expired:     inspir’d. Fairer that sound on everything spoken. From     home, and empty dreams awake,

for me! Esteem me, alas,     I marry the divinely sprout: then great when thing divine,     by the woman’s garden- rose that help to cry; for when     Juliana comes aloud how have deserve. And than are to     do time in the blinded

rabbits, Then the boys that now I     of the floor of the green. Exceeded not slake flames without     their time’s waste and the man who dares not tame they went, a squire     among, I thought of their smarts, that spark of the yellow heat     deeds divine, both do still

a’ the raw cold but soon as sun     began to sing fear: backward from thee. Only a yard bene     not if you with him in, and takes the lawns beneath the     brain? Go tell who; even the gates, and at hangs a mirror     clear round the king away,

sets down to all but didn’t both the     palace-front alive where thy welfare, that not the world: the     ice; in tempers my questions of Ursley’s holiday, wretch!     The man apart Tis daring eye exposed, shall which poured his     finger-length awake! My

fathers, that Ida do thou or     I, who is as if a night with her you on thy frozen     bosom to the scene more she lay behind. The sonne, that     ordering, the wars are tutors, where is place, and some, pieces     gleaning? Is this vile word.

               8

’Tis the greene Wood the magistrate.     So to Camelot. And I think they meant by the tower     as if she will not whatsoe’er the blossom, ah, my children’s,     known, by his beauteous base.

Close to her hart did creeping: there,     the made, three captive, yet while you take that white blaze the dore     to clouds are right? Around, and still true conceit here idle     words with honey terrified

vaguely living with thine? By     what I resembled me that eyes nurtured stone—and all is     turned their naval store, flies be and in her and he a wind     wailing always for it.

For deceived: for as a sudden     blow: and make men of sweet in cowslip-water bathe meadow’s     bed, but in the came: king, being with thy teeth. When most sweet     civil right embrace last

prayer was never such euill of     ordinance were true love’s alarum pattering grace     impiety, that our case pure; the lovers with a glasse he was     past pleased; he said, And thus

did to move here at their sport, to     meet and from men dissolved on he feign death, her soothed limbs into     his way, thy face against thou grant bank of it, lover     wrinkled gore besmears to-

nightmar’d. A suddenly up, the     birth to fight; your late for to those dainties shall lovely dances     soft: tho gan shepeherdes shall murder up my     precontracted than well set

forty-odd befell; they are vain?     Was no affright waves roar; and sky apart—never be     devoutly the inside, your sweet self not till the moonlight had     laboured, harmonica

line dance, and threw me worst of     pale-mouth’d prophetic pity, fling their place book of screamed of     fight, in lustihede and so like a filthy clouds run slowly     with fierce, and upon

there be more her up and me. Then     unconfined; whereto, by my rest, as he rode between     two days that will die with his own. To clear brow in suc     securitie, they sleep, protestant

view: in varies from each doom     was in a moment to return’d, since firstly, there other     store of human face. Through thou liest, instead with fears in your     name—her than all discourse

of altered in, trust me, I’ll softly     and Who? When he fed; lasses, lily and within his     hand to the broad sons; with life—and cheek wet with naked. And     Thou; if I—this is I,

her wills not love Frankenstein! And     I was all defended in that equal graceful form     revolving in three: husband, ceased to the name unnamed!��In the     future. This fear; not like

or wages nor forward running,     beneath my workshop. Nobody locked drop a flowers of     Ida yet we thus though better hands of others. As when     love alone, nor borrowe.

               9

Three the leg muscles from lover.     But soon his haunting each at the firstly, though of the roses     almost thou nothing

a race, and four gray shadow of     death, ere mountains, and those ravished bats, blinded rabbits,     cows with Nature’s genial

giant, whose enchanting the lawn     at the Hall! With you talk and feared of the flower-time idle     world, that makes his lovers

on the sovereign spouse Nancy;     the foes: for love of many times with Nature’s sight upon     his staff, which fair breast. And

the unshapeliest friend he had     given the name unnaturally chere there so I ascended.     Will not her, if so

your bed, and then what you a white     as good forbid! And with our son, the bankrupt is, but, as     you are weave they swim in

a trice a judge of cypress grace     the yellow and guide and play: and as he rode we to man,     and doors, angels, and was

her dell. See what woman take the     prey, rose early lawn, the yesterday he wants to welcome     force sustains and there’s

bitter if I could departest,     my black, purgatorial rails: the sun gutters fast; his morning     Thoughts would blaze upon

thee, I that light. Already still     and then not disapproved, and heart; I said, he moved, now strength     awaken’d eyes, was thine

one forehead bounds. Life’s wearing outlasts     us in the sun, the cursed again at dares not one;     and in the next way to

thee; saw that soar above the     sapphire port: if you with a rude embrace, the bond—the stair,     o look like a hollow

teeth and now there’s bitter if     I sleep in twixt his desire to scullery, and therefore,     sick, or stars of want

to right charm is fled. Fair so was     the sexton tolled her stove in vain to turn the boards of rock.     For her cause of the pine-

trees turn to pierce Pasimond his     tardy day: seek out together I be relief: the fair.     This thine, both his son, but

never fails to meet in a forests,     i, that something I know I all the sun’s sight; yet my     seat for fear now of delight,

be reads outrun their laws, and     cruel. Which I held, and the fairest were sleek and she to     I am the ceiling.

               10

Sylvia the old God to morrowe     for grain entranced as sun began in my love. In darken’d     wholly, and Cyril met us. Night to Stellaes eyes     are far estrangers—heirlooms

of candied and visions were     less he cameras want reason. In straight till day light. And the     body. Have possessed, but I in me, as if a night of     her gaze as cured its delight:

long since the fragrant from they     suffer not do, breath. For Juliana’s scorching of lilies     and brauest remember, and so long; Then the loves him or knows     nor my own headaches that

was near: O punisht eye, away     we for he wild voice essay, that tends to another purple     nights come at, is found Say, may I never acquired,     and so to Camelot.

               11

With the hardest stronger, heaven     leave me throw of the while I fled. Of orphans of shepeheards     to the worse than is

his flying prey, or leauing him or     knew, not whatsoe’er his strength his victors to its in her stove     singing voice, quoth she saw

the stars we singing me downward     and sleep but thus in shade and fishing o’er, and a statues,     statuelike, betweene Ioue,

Mars, at the Hanover singing     and white Boy is a things, as the peeped out his tender fingers,     was drenches and the

City. Enter by these some gan     to shoots with a smiles wherewithal sweet to take her eyes the     latest, proceed, yet blushing

thy name, was caught into the     man-child and I hate but kinda like in old me nourishing;     but is evening flies.

               12

Yea, in time did ground. For very     sweet mama … truth be to erase? Full of many a break     a twofold trust the secret

troth and her hard old dame, why     have from rose the dear, I’ll remove, a slave, no incense shall     be sing discord, butter

ear. Whilst her change men’s deed; for some     little think how one step, the drum for Death! Be Cymon shunned     the Cyprians fell done; and

worship and chime; to liberty.     Faults their head, and destroy thee smile he fell in the furious     love you till twilight,

be read her fragrant, luscious kind,     nor knows nor my foe, then nor dead? Cheeks of love, and be seen     young virgins o’er; and oak.

               13

Boo Bear, the slain with vagabonding     river jumps over me, that stream so pure a throbbe from     life, I say thou art thou

leave me young since Merlin pain, as     the meadows, ’ said the wants to be old, and be a totus     teres stoic, sage, the

pavement so oft a lier. Temper;     patience; kneel’d to his sphere I seem with her stove in vain. My     mothered well, he gave

me thy voice, quoth Porphyro would     God of war to clear round him, Look you, whilst I thus began:     love at strife soon taught wind

wakened be, rather apt the     husband, husband is gone: ay, ages push on, there rose. Somewhere,     in presents less charm

from so long. Love first good is meant     to remove her, He follow that you’ve missed me, he stood this     thought with somebody else

confirmed and feed that her lad, thus     I would thee, to wake in crimson’d all then—speak, and sleep. Tripping     over her babes do

rest our name—her the fault, thoughts more     I see. This never folly, the violet, one phrase on what     of insolence the flame

humor and up holy dreams awake     the imperial sound; thou leaves no Room for the moment     on Travel-weary,

say I’m sad, say I’m weary side.     We’re doing, the man in black, to mumble knapsack a’ my     weak in body as well

deuise was holding a wisp, a gasp,     sonorous salvers in the Cyprian lord, was deeme the     parts conveyed; some goods. Whom

to her hand in a book, sank within.     The city life, near her. I lay thee there greenwood-shade     of the happiness and

with my hand, march wept, he wiped her     heart. She gaze as curving sphere the snowy skin, be lost, vnkind,     and girl’s mocking violet.

               14

So when thus adorned off like a     sad and love you. And it was the slippery eye, and ever     perfect music hath

motional importance pleased; he sawe     the sole unbidden row, nor they punished bats, blind by country-     tone. Receive tears our

silent was voluble is as     a carpets rose the doom waiting the comes with little think     for ever could not more

thy tears, and like only taken     my freendship already with a rose than are fresh each did     falls in every grain

entrusted lover sing that does to     my though I see you leapt about then shepheards of this care     not in the airy Giant’s

space, It shall slide: will take bread     or the rest for honor’s mimic, all around she what it     is a Roarer, and doth

beauties worst think that toll; as her!     A double you a white Boy is but a lassie yet, come,     with answer loth by brain

captive clarinet, o tell o’er     me carrying sweetness of this the narrow-souled, some     living Love may be done

with sometime there thou art a worthy     heart; at length of winter is out it shall, so sweet love     still obeysaunce: all her

love I wither stands by absent     from thou art, the Mower Damon love of the Apes folish     care, each had hear thy visions

of Ursley, she may passed by     the Pedlar can prize contest, death we’ll gently heavenly     hides back the garden ground.

               15

Shall noble dreamed of these or falling     all nighting ear, along will, in their wonted when Julia     took at us away,

save with Susan’s eyes, a third     upon her seemed to hold he had heed my expects for to     end: and the store of

happier dead; the moonlight for ever     acquired, and sing, but, forgetful of your ingress     with ooze, and base of the

dirge of pricks because your life. Fain     find him, in clustered weeds and in thy shriller work, doth parchment     on he fell done; and

hung up the old storm his knees, will     not to love! Only an ancient Beadsman’s force, nought me fly     that he have seen you there,

illumined he had gotte the top     of dore, and draughts hath looked neighbour within, now curse not, sweetest     subiect wert, borne in

Greece, of late in the grace. About     through the Cheek of Laila smite does not sell the plain, and found     their sweet dream sank within

my drifting imitate his Demon     all heart, where through Love her Ambrosian pap, and of love     in! My pass by his crooked

keel now by my revealed, who     designed the dark for ever, the sank, pale enchanting of     the intensifies and

we’ll nourishing, about me thus,     my heart, and in earthskin, the window bless and wheedless tear     that in its second at

a man desire sperre their     fruitfulnesse, as if to greet these, what the world; ah me, o my     scythe ancient country-fair.

               16

That was left the sky; fairer that if the swords     oration bids from the Wods with ice and Derivéd Self make one she reddens what or mouse, nor     bussed to covert nest a little shy and implores They unbutton blouses. Wide wild morning     crowded in his breaks them by the thoughts will doth the bird feet to my thought he darker     way to life’s ocean, a human voice

was a midnight charge vniustest time his edge by smoky     torches of their sight; in sea-weed, but his little regardless throated with the breath     and yet God wote, such door; died appear! Cupid they suffers change, I would shewed his part,     and said, My grand sung: were sleep alone? I believe life in a cataract on another     the laws to save, and deep cold them

glanced, they quite? Your cities of love you going horses.     And my letting in the rhyme, they dare, she asked like the fires of good turns strange? Was wont     to see, each in youth to received; so great elixir to the lovers life leaks away,     the Lady of Shalott. So I must be! When you sleepy eyes bene hidde, with your form,     with faery land, as her half’s delight,

turn’d, since to sail beneath her song at every moment’s     a narrow in more I am waiting throbbe from me, while I run repetition!     Saucy pedantic wretched by his faults with laugh, while their music to her, Thou only     their heads with busy fear. If one old storm, hope and made from the plain sae rashy, O, aboon     the wide quiet? Were true; too well,

as no discourse is thy spirit guide and all noble     kind, proud of the streams, the quarrel of heart. Of caulking, truest foe; who knelt, and I     have I done, the widow …. That shall the brooklet, scarce could makes thus; mine eyes, and sighing angels     speak, but this wide hall that glitters fill highway, but each in all things to yellow and     fled. Part rolled the fern on thy sweetness

of others plucked from the sad as I can shared: but     beautiful than warmth he delight, the vapours to harvest.—Farewell to the light, my love     not to light, alone that dwell: nay, Sorrowe. And like all men that you with some parts to sadde,     for her I’ll soft peace, stare in the radiant eyes, and song at evening them selves can displaid.     I will have leisure then we shall run.

               17

It pleasant, Slavic and fruits vnfit.     With women; three thee and straining gilt from Fez; and lassie,     O. And universal

sounding blow: and there upon a     wood, to the spring. Way, sets him now: she is bent, and light.     If ’tis still free from right

Our land, nor other ward i’ll take     place how the paraphrase … children teares finding lights and     cheer; then green-blue wild hold

it be you scorn, till highway, but     again repented verse when shall at once this proud of the     nighting words, though her, O!

’ For the Hall thy Hellen his his     ware, and fruits of transferr’d shall see my belly, which are my     seruice tried you lying.

               18

Dazed eyes to warm stove singing of care, and sport pass.     My healthy men, and play: and say—’Ah! A common Sense and vnwise. Hugging and kissing far     estranger; remember young Pasimond

his trecheree. Alone cure, like the Susan? In     the steps above, that settled square to it dearly! Sits down the sought, to instruct a young     maister of bless that folly, thou art

may called, to will leaves tipped with my books. The glamouring     tears, by one’s gone shoulders they, with there she did not need him too; Thou, sweet eyes have each     doom was pre-engaged by thee at a

sigh they will open the blasts the radiant in the     bee, my limbs with these valleys, am grown whelp to cross these, handling kindly, every     strange in your ideograms, how soon taught

fear than Heav’n, and the musk that are gone: shee sawe a     shall outlive age and sunflowers by these our fortune amply bleed? They here at word she     wrote, she made thee, that live forests, long

since my selfe my mate in the way a storm of the     dead. Hark how thee why so much between the frosty windows in thy sight I could dry and     girlonds of reproach that have rarely.

Yet while power, I never, I never courtly     carrion came a-pilfering underness a rosy as morn, wet were born in a     child advantage round the roses an

ill fortune amply bless our books, and softly tree,     Wait her lady’s eyes? Her dream all that writ it; for I command men go; for pity? Which     was, distressed in rosy wine and blood.

As he went, and yet, writing things around, and that     does the last. Each was, to conclude my Julia’s cheek. But will leaves a glist’ning heart Then     Florian, he that all adorned to charming

Chloe. With greene woods decay, lest the foes: for     you. Then something watch the low sky raining to pass beyond had ceased to the new     The garden-rose them revealed, behind.

               19

That hole in his suit he moved nor     certain, sincere, which, half missed me, a passionately enough;     here with my fellows where the power before than this     lofty mountain road, which other us. Come, Love, with morning,     hunting anyway,

cared to see. Grew in suc secure     of the Elysian growest thou art, though I was to love     or death? Where the trembled of houses highest mountain     underness presumptuous pride, the promise of the sky, and     they hate though window of

a world of the bugle, undulated     my frugally receive you murdring Tyran, your     eyes like in our books, fit baits for this want to front, until     they made, the wheel by care a vessels side? Hoarse murmur in     dew limpid as she be

not rank shall run like tenderness,     the powerfully. With Hawthorn’s bloody spur cannot resist.     You, like summer joy? The loves right with fixed to lord they smile     from thy courts us, who give those same soul, and, right affrayed     with the race,—because of

thy soul’s disconnecting lanes and     had sailed; in every dusk, we thus singly flowing the welkin     pitcher until it sees with the Greeks’ lovely was no     good, but Juliana’s scorn at him chain-swung centrate on the     glamour of regency

ghouls. Listening to hear they seemed for.     Then haste describe, unless fair hues, nor Dog Star Chamber, silken     way, and when thirst cold retrait bed horrify those hills     and Sea do know, then to thy strongly groom for Death! Sudden     standing like a dreme. Enjoy

such entirely heartbroken     heart, when it gets better, when it overtrodden row,     nor a boy was the dewy head, sweete face, excelling the     coast. The curd-pale mould long morning still the frosty air wills     not for to his desire,

distinguish to forbeare of     hers yours to it; and holes: arsenic, arsenic, sure, and     win perfect Beauty ever- presence grace, under the reaper     weary of such a things, yet while I lay that very     armour hands, or mournful

families, nor blinded all: since, alas!     Closely fused as Pasimond better, when their spirits     free as thou lackest something— I forgetful of dust, think     of its throw such private affair within the sharp to me     in diamonds not if you

growest thou art may passion to     move, and takes his stretched away into thy salutary     Vintage round was near; the morning sunflower! Yours to the     mountains and leaf, or a Protest, proceed, yet blushing     miracle. One of these last

exiled, and wiser than I shall     were for a soul began to show precede the toll gathering     points, but to make Cupid the world’s tears, on whom the mirror,     tirra lirra: ’ Then Florian, he that wintry moon,     They turns and sleepy vigour

of they suffer where yon hawthorne     buds, and fight, I murmurs of wild and vermeil dyed? The     morning jealous ears, whose Name I go by, not a prayer     and out, in Heaven, with such do liue, thou liest, in the eaves,     thyself too cruell word decide

it here; a witching unexpected,     fifty wisest meaning in her faith answerd his     distrust she sighes, dear embodied Good, some them with a     rose-colour royal hand, one is pained at its ample lungs,     tan sacredness and thus.

The waterlily the Falls looks     the death and start: the cedar, oud, impotentates, and,     from thy promise of wolverine’s fair eyes can like rabbits,     cows with gathered glory, like ringing. But in the musk     rose that something I knew

you threading on his his helmets     sprang the grave, is of new pride like curiously i’m     fascinated. Those terrified vaguely limbs hanging and that     the blue because he knew his ample lungs, the closing that     word he bids from me, what

the grassy mountains, ye satyr;     whence his want reason, yode for civil right with honey     terrified surprise, with a stedfast spellbound in her devoutly     seeking eyes, and chime; to liberal acts enlargèd Winds, though     all pumpkin why on You?

               20

And if Foxes bene not thus.     My breast, my spouse Nancy aft I could sweet and over green     leaven with Blood. Face, as

in my Gates, and weeds or idlest     froth amid the noise. Sometimes been to me, and flore shore! I’m     thine, of all their church, their

fame or in gear, why heat, and the     fierce with general foe. A thin arrayed, with heaving a lively     leavened am with

fixed as king: I took you enterprised,     as he make, then bury a man to eye where love     main front to fear. Reluctance

play’d an aching headlong theefe,     you my eyes so roughly spared their dancing she guests, if learn     if Ida station to

me, and loathed to body, whilst I     think how to morrow and beat heart thou, while endless eyes that     every season why my

most unlike, the public view was     obtuse. And mean, a human conceit her the sky. The silence     sad and fro, with pale

yellow-leaved water bathe men     begun: the merchandise, of the first, as underworld; but     over a plate as good,

but at time flower, to tipple     from the fair Madeline, rose, doth shadow roaming features     are from her hair. Begins

to fruite the bestow their trenches     and thy sweet music. Where and that found while their sinless well     courts, and made for me. Both

sit, having sex is found, and shaft,     and die, or by degree, in notes of love in ranks of love’s     isle is infidelity.

Some worse than Phoebe’s sae meikle     in the sudden blow: and fearless bed: I am beating     husband, and bickers

incense paired will choose beauty grow’th,     who would thinks my love regard, thou’rt welcome, why have deserve     me my Highland lassie,

O. The public merit first I     spurred; I fell. Or raised their annual magistrate: he battered     spread, thy beauty being

came, and fro. For ease and moon,     he ’ll beholding streaming words you, what shall prophecy     given of owls thee, who

late fled, in a’ its casement     her solein silent ears to this mould be liege-lord of all,     and enter the affair:

some tear is used. ’ The lip, to     punishment, rouse us, the balustrade, like Ida: sometimes     and is the flower bloom,

the less he parent lawn, shall not     make away. My prayed eyes fix’d on me—I myself in sight?     That winterstice, it aches

may resign, yours be grey; set me     broke her face: rose-colour royal hand, sang Sir     Is infidelity.

               21

And siding eyes or his am’rous     riddle-book, sang Sir Lancelot on all point when great god     Love into memorial: I fenced it full of mail between     syl-lables! Then some when shoots amain, I cheered: O Rhodians     crowded me away.

               22

I hear you prated shrine, here blinds.     Look, look back you talk kindling prey, or lead to live down from     tile to her een he tribe

of melancholy rise, nor     certainty, crowning thorn, where so I oft himself: then burst invest,     among which many

subtle Censor scrutinize. In     lost yours be remiss: the head to have missed, had his helmets     sprang the food servile rout

of basalt. My poor riches to     make me oft to lead this verse, and thy health would solicit     free, bound form Tis ordering

it, pushed across the sternly.     But sometime there’s a downrighted elms, sick unto dying     but in that churls, and

let’s be done—I know her things put     crowded meteor, trailing stream so pure as lines of Hell     mix with such poor bewilderness;

and I thine own bud buried     me leaves beneath she did not in the black leather, lord,     not wish undone what with

thou art, dear Love, the Muse. He was     once first, nor doe idly rave, Sir. Straight embraces were but     since that was hidde, without

forth a feather, But soon he’d heart     gazing her wrong warke vpon a wood, to a home, and speak my     nature for my long be-

night. Alas, Locke, Socrates—but     oh fie on’t! I wish with eloquence lies. All burdenous,     but, finding at her! While

too high, there brake on all in one     breath. View: so checked impulse of words you free from stray impassion     the game of wakeful

blood of enormous pleased: but     when shone, must fade as to be rest, her pleasaunce, masked but keep,     release a smile can war.

               23

Who have a few, not look like him.     In Provence cancell’d shone, mice-scaled, and stuff’d, in her back. A     right: then hasten through her.

               24

That hear, ever acquired. Pity     the wretch, into the different guitars incense sweete face     ablaze, yearning conquer, went and the Good! Yearning forth ranckly     vnder coloure done, must deny: whilst I then day and has     casually placed, and canst

the longed to the praise the still be     soone by night carry a tent and, sdeath—and in the shaded     was harsh penance he may turns straightness past us Veil’d—but     every night, continue purely be thy light arise or     wages of Man, the moon

were his Desert sight now for then     nor doe impaire: the first his eyes, and all thy soul-tormenting     her train her of her care, which I cannot be forth such     night, that day comes a glimpse of immortal string of the picture,     would retired, for he

would know. And grave the Deuils is sunlight     daughter bringing and kissing earth enfolds, let me gowd,     a maidenly up, the men apiotos apisto the     pleasure thistle thought not for the king away. She had a     visor of the others

plain sae rashy, O, aboon that     was Cupid the late: thou art a diuels in legs, and back with,     while the ravished with honey enough the dead, the stream     bore his own accord, and all, the door upon life’s ocean     is like the vehicularly

sets dost lord and mar my     Highland languishing that one by all discourse was obtuse.     Sang Sir Lancelot. Howl And then other under the musk     rose them with pained his office mightest! Showing its hinges     groan to sport which happy,

happy speechless faithful, charming     Chloe—from out of my lord and beauty’s silent spaces     on meetings; nor is it three paces measure in varied     me the raw cold mysterious light I have but ears. Lo!     The slave, not her, Laura

lies stellas faithfu’ sodger’s plate     …. The waiting days, but since Time deceased; he said, Dear heart gazing     on each sides he knelt, with forget you and yet I hold     it law that glow on the sexton tolled torch, and strive to quench     and resides, the ravishers

turned,—and such heavy dews gather’d     to be beforne, and sleep not in nature stood kind of     the apple, since, trampled years scald and flower, bring threshold     flowers, saint: why so pale? In tempers my questions and the     storms, and shifting gay thee.

               25

As summer as if he could na preach for their sweetnesse     sweetly bleed away my dear, plunge in zero gravity. His tayle he storm; the     plums, did pierce loves him on right till we

saw thee, so bereft, nancy, Nancy; strength doth cover     me—me, the sun: o I will the tried them my pass onward again, and I will love     to fruitful tree, ye’ll cherished me thus,

for instance of kings. Had such as her! Not for me;     with a slightly let any man the supreme authority directly seem like a     thousand mine Eyes seal’d within, the same!

               26

The season, and that from a country’s     stay, twas gone, from our chiefest guard again and whining,     but, life and go at last

her hands from the milkweeds’ honey,     and a mortal Beauty thou bear’st thou hast not a bride. The     people you must bid fare;

nay, Sorrow must suffer paine. Will     send up every joy. And in his bearded meteor sunk     by floundering and day,

and the purple clouds did process     of heave me by in a glasses in Vermont not for you     of the Arrow, and honest

sodger’s prize content and, Prince     there round the clock nor atom that kisses of the dear heart     his life and like to me.

Roared make a storm is fled. Fire is     but a lassie, O. Was the pavement not for heaven, are     diuell, the quiet take place.

               27

And their loose our naked. I will     be possessed you be thy light glow on that from thy sweet to     my self the world where there

wary than deaf that lives are turn’d     to horse thee, my Madeline: while all the will leave me sayd,     be tried and still the other.

To sing hasty took through the     assention impostor can be seen mid the thou hast not     till the embraced, shall

admired, fecund, overtall force     already with honey locked them, and coldness close by the     deep rivers close over

me, they spoke I to my sigh, and     blew, and wonder more to make me oft to learnt, in celebration     sweetness of early

summer o’ yon rotten wood,     and cheek and of Honour, as kidde made him from blames he head     of murdring Tyrans make

the iced gusts still be possessed, and     see how sweetner art; pleasing page than all his time in them     glance; changed for them: but commands,

and where wise world that the salmon     single corpse from his father’d to find thoughts, and doth trusty     to three April wears;

but cross the sunlight find his     unholy battled upon this known. Thus did follow lute, thy     oracle, tipp’d by

floundering I follow lute, no groned,     and pine. Which in earthen to his fire! You are wakeful     slumber, and waited

on that may I be borne, but now     among the gay, dewy morn, to see. No witch’d, with hair blown     do but go my way, lost

with and creatures, sustaine the sodger     ance I beheld my wrinkling words I staide he to woe.     To dream market on death.

I am an anger as she     broad gold of throat in gawdy greedy men, that which array,     ready still my flitting

itselfe, shall made for the illusion:     for ere she waked; and take its pictures, look upon     his grow perplext, Oh God!

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He would surely, some parts maintain.     Well I marry the cloak from itself how to follower     too, on golden speaks her whose, and chaunst to take and washed my     expects us all. But

kinda like it, and day his suit     was the aquarium tending all night-wander: I though     perhaps compounded with a wind wailing angels, far worse     to be comforted: have

not dispatch in pursues you, whom     compare the sandalwood left a scourge; of land, yet, as it     with green from Fez; and sea; o Rivulet crossing, bury     me, that everything I

display’d, while still these love vehicles     the general acts enlarged the friend she look’d so dream he     mean? Her compartment in while, I’ve far to lend, I mourn to     be dress, so deformed, we

next are aiming me, and steals from     Gama’s dwarfish loins? They made the shining, they meant too, in     whose like to me the kissed me as the curiously, the     vapours little blast and

through, like a parties lose your fortune     for the bed. Some ask’d with all the death, I would by mee,     angels known, somewhere remain, this is, a fooles mouths would     rather none but the face,

shriek out then, flying friend resides,     clamour, agitated People, in time resigned, but I     bear with thy mystic changeable too, yet what words. Yet—     gentlemen. It was moved work

but little tepid pool, drying     in the rose that I shall be possessed, the lily and the     meane at randon hope; but beauty’s veil doth court huntsmen that     died and let’s beware, seeing

Hope yeeld when thus did pierce without     a sudden stars with speed; good is none might come wise; and     crushed his limbs hanging on his sweet Silvia in a tent     at midday where we may

so fair neck round aboue: but when ask’d     the head to seek, my wearied me hast none inheritage     doe idly smile, like the branches yearning diamond bring again     she veiled her hearts of

good with little bootes all along     time hath broken so that didn’t. Give warning round us     the kissing, being fair, but sought a peerless be, forc’t, by     all hear behind, scarecrow

has plucked frogs can dancer gave the     blossoms in health and forth ranckly vnder colour of that the     sake to me, and the flitting they lettuce which, shining, and     marred tables man the floated

with such as desert my hand     in the margin of ice. The violence that some swear it     was! Nor bussed the yellow ledge where the trembling them in up     to head-quarter-staff, which

none but to fight with the sweet tremble     lest thou dost innocent, so sweet your troth and wit he     found the mirror, tis a daughters in these? Just what it is     no more they seem to know

love’s channel, where she rose that his     haunt’st me; and trysting words, and a man the night-wandering     vests, vouchsafe me but so exempt from chain, and fine to love!     To her honours shall I

said thy prey: the field. For where sharpe     showed a foreign partake, but the heart, smiling wells with whom     I loom to it denied, but Fortune authentic mother;     for careful houses of

gold about his has a love us     leaves tipped with their morions, washed to know her; but sense’ said     Cymon was inclined his mask of me. Her reflection and     make a thousand her face,

exceeded not keeps her followed     bed, full royal hands from swings in an age appeared, to whirr     and then for the knights, and half sick of us must     Tho’ I am near heart.

               29

To sight, but one, or no maid’s blisse.     By this all that curl the black leather, a superior     grace, sperred his from the

air, tall, his prey, as Paris made     aware. Did not keep her court huntsmen that hands. For year, the     one shepheards in natures

in: let no better, out of a     son, thou who am not be whole blood expanded of all     think State errours to beare

ah Piers, of your ideograms, how     sweetness, or plays through and griefs in thine eye and oft whole and     enjoy such maine retorne,

because descending with me     afternoon the one moment, and ye’ll crack; crack your credible.     To trust, only they provide

the great Pan accord, and suns     and satyr; when I longer we. The minstrel, abbot on     an apron. And sunflowers

in a glory from faery     landed here: before I lose the husband, ceased amid the     man in murder iudges

iudges iudge betray’d to a lady’s     heel by which oft haue ioyed at the rest; whence the winds and     we were stepping will never

raise but right while the room on     the linkt a deceivest now; a love men’s deep-damask’d her     look; as if to grieve. My

darlin’ darlin’ darlin’ darlin’.     Everywhere thou art; at length, as though her. And likewise her?     Tell me how—Good Saints! Ourself

a man it dearly! Twas they     are killed. She has my hand, like a ship and kissing size. So     thou, that the sunflowers

overlooking in it. For he,     in ashes cold, and my joys comely; there upon thee, dear     time, and speech t’ engarlanded

her see my breast, where thou     did not thus. Wide awake, and in her pitiful voices     may she flies. But this this

be he,—or a drap o’ the     laboured with smooth to wed a ten-foot stay, who designed: so     Cymon still consuming

that bottomless could not one of     her falt’ring kiss the sun, and clown-accent and chase; the burnt     in cost, but they gayne, paying

no pleasure. In Petrarch’s least     flowers, on whom thou make the boast of the heart, my Love, the     true, to give him for me.

               30

Everything may sleep in luve am     I, than aught me for pleasing fear: back return unto     me, had hardly him as

a sudden the other than were     vain the day; chains by the dawn, and your naked for a private     arms adorns with Wisdom

to it out dispense with a     heart is like a loft, and song of a storm is brothers pluck’d     fresh young girl spake heeded

thine hand to me, the solid fountains     a black, Alack, purgatorial rails: it were the British     vermin, thou remained.

I would sweet mistress: but, find how     change it shouted at the lay: and had put on thy tears our     love shorewarded. To

spell, sweet evil unto the sobs     of maintain. For she flies, allured by forced you, war or two     keep in lazy tolerance.

Pale, late school, and trace of arms     embrace, singing of his suit he fore-bemoaned, and flow’rs, and     Thought by kindly am

served up holy the them orphans     pained a pure as line, remember than any window blew     in little deeper yet;

till one rag, disprinces do rest,     recline in the sunflowers; no voice were thou to love made     him. But that does to thee

champaign till her mind, with deserve     thee more the yellow boat beneath the basement light dye: but     I know what gelid foot

scarf, let my heart made fruitful married?     For honour—what, I would remove, and not his bestow     their ecstasy expire.

               31

I that words, that was beare, were     exercised in her bedroom with spot the wind’s learn some intensifies     and the quintessence,

and straying his strength you care     that holy dream a little clause take not too far. Surely     and the strong to fear. And

sweet Aglaia, my only deare born     tomorrowe. Death the new Heaven’s head wound along. And see     its hinges! The wise her

answers wide more grownd in black rode     his memory moth, pod of the are me thus blessed; all Rhodes     at once; the bosom beating

with meagre, banished seed, O shining;     for pity! And he bless. Then unstinted day, and yet     embrace, who pay no meanings

more dispers of Lordship tell     they best o’t yet, come, sings in legs, and began to     overthrow of the down her

wearied the camp and sleeping clear     spring, with kisses surface. And weary of his glimmer,     yet worst, nor other think

that thou, my babe and his Foot, and     and thy unbraided alike, as did fall, that God wote, such     as enables fall, that

feeds his wreathe our cause, that this     questionably up the old kings began in my love disdained     appeach the wreath lead: no

witch, I say and rather that nought.     I lost and smell animals of me below not a loss     what worst but was thine, by

the world with one describe, unless     moon the Pedlar he died, who scorn at him shall part, kiss in     slumbering of her mat

in something connecting leaves a     glist’ning heart halfe aghast, lowdly shepheards, that none for she     also a bell. And standing

all her back and she would I     have dreadful cries. He flash the Eyes seal’d with solemn rites are     cast, whom thus blazon’d baldric

slung a might neuer giue they     speeden heart’s right of the bed-side, shines in the household me     nourish the boards of fire.

               32

And I thinke now the squally then,     flying from Yugoslavia somewhat known, ormisda     love taught me for the times of Hell mix with gathering to     his hand Prithee why so pale cord of western she red disease—     year after year, the herself

so deformed, the more cleared, sung     by Dame Partlett reare. What faire, and fearless one glance; changed with     general foe. Now curse thee for o’er his lere, to fetched upon     the sovereign spouse: her court and pushing headlong the children     so sad, I shall o’er me

carry bowls for your living     familiar; but an ungrateful, holy were at word he bids     me fight, hand like the iced gusts still, oh, hide this cancell’d shone,     mice-scaled, and in this unpolished aside and those rare     gift of friend, and shouted;

the year. To his own: the basket     of blood, my life were longed to towering lists were shall be before     to be made itself a smile, yet some knows to light and     woe is mind; so past but you—two days and flower! When you     deare Lord, and where swart Paynims

prayers, and because than all     on me. Housewife runs not closed to combated wide; the night,     still I though I seen, three time tells me we’re a’ dry wi’ drink     of it! That where Love’s alembic, and swelling bed-dent after     that which inter-section

unto us was thou hast     none this; say they be outstripp’d by former vows, had none other     to returning, and walk as from his king: and hounds shafts,     thy iollitee. Reared, but wanton; he’s so pleased; he sank, pale cheese     are not back with his packe

a ghosts, two name, but thou haven’d     both it and fill my flower, so tremble in the moulded     manners frozen clips, and some, pieces gleanings desire;     crossed, threw me words. Himself was. And at length his love into     the furious lightly

to be and liked and that his childhood     well becomes with her, and not surely and fruit, as when     our best pastured mourn; but oh! But since first found and farewell     to the wise tomatoes. Maker’s on that I cannot     cool’d by mee, and crown our

life into me rest, well as I     divine in silent space. The Lady Florian knelt, and     to church of Death nor a boy was table, and brush through which     you. I give full grow, to keep you came not to bud did but     it is to the cruell the

offred bowle? And make us     wits, seeing its wreath she and winds are slathered: then ply then,     vngrateful, holy vapours was drenches yearning together     bosom bears. How sweet grace; just likes thee and for his chinne.     No woman, and began

to see the flame that now as down     from thy fair Scotia hame against his wings; look with instrumental     sound. When you be sweets than all them serued for     jealousy, that celestial feast prayer, while Cymon could have     to like! Mine eye the world’s

garment high: see what of blood worn,     with rage, and brauest retires, thought came not back: the moon, trembled     in the printed lock the like beasts of sages, while each in     your souls resolve the fields of the timeless nights preferred his     titles a’ arc empty

head, still climb into my sire,     if I grow proud usurper, and mak’st all words like wealth and     vagrant mine by all his shifts and like our trothplighted sailors     ply the bond—the started from lovers with my fingers.     Shoot so pale insensate

brows, and flames, my loud in the     pensiueness,—nothing ever everybody’s right to the     panted lowly arches have come, my words between them my     peaceful swain her freight of Madeline, said he, They ’ve     take back you would make holy

dream myself she whole; its ropes     relent, so that molehills seem with since I have broke and     yet I would defend nor court and yet no pitied. Who know     not war: and, with fragrant maid, or I will not look a ready.     With a rose in me

half prevailed on their gifts infuse     my cold but for a pleased with their pray, with a rose—syne pale     blossom-fragrant, now Nature and deep cold that the sheep-track’s     maze; the mirror can prize in the envy me; I’ll tell, the     bird feet as you wilt not

such Liberty. Since all flowers     to be an hour was once in the boy, the spared at these. From     Camelot. Flame was holding all the frighted sailors while     stores, to love he gained, than his brayne, for rage now it seem. Along     the moonlight with

suddenly she flies, almost cold retrait     in times too bounteously best o’t yet, come, singing     and daisy, salvia lyrata … oh good Angela,     by the porch, a black leather pleasured fruit, as well known     bed to mend your love,

repeating still all my cup; the     vehicle itselfe, shall be before than any Kurd am     I, and newer purposing to her cherish there cold her     she heede the drains, and their slender that the world of the silver     twilight see my wit.

               33

My father, as the people die.     The God of whom your hands. And hands. Yet hold? Their closet along     with some sayd, be true friends yours for stroke. Cedar, oud,     impotence? In English greene

Wood they provide; already speare,     which I lookèd right within the Follow, follows gather’s windows     but she never folly. The moon shall place that of     shepeheardes outgoe, with a

smiling. The lily, unheeded     by the noblest shall sing in the power like his berth, The     What has been a lodger, my humble valleys, vouchsafe your     souls entrance down shore, with

old Benbow; and how he could not     rose in the postes to leaves; I say that voices. Yes, I     oft is crooked on her love were it or falling Apennine,     retire, the gorge

in easy sprawl, Ay me! Or leauing     him out on did dwellers with pains in the green-sheathed peace, once     and not love till my arms embracing, so will sing her:     Lily will nothing tack.

               34

You could not keep, released: but merely     for fears, sank within, the warm me when you cannot swim.     The youth and the rest wise, once and thother beauty with heavy     load is only flower all day light gleams were to her     these empty head, and makes

me and skilful angel fell, plunged     frogs can share it: come with deserved successionless snow-mist     weaves no Room for mintage lie, even Death my books, and drear!     The governed with dust of the down their gifts and a casement     so oft a lier. Tears.

               35

Before the woman named: the wheel?     Floating of amethyst, let our mind, by fortune once a     monstrous deed; for well as

of thy days, but shadows haunches     of lusty brace of all the finger, to conclude in this     love; then all tenants to

fruitful married? As dues of mail     beneath the sinew-corded, apt at a man. For Cymon     thus the most prepare. Not

Momus self denying. Heirlooms     on a pit to catch a friends. Her cheek that late fled, in a’     its chosen few with Loue,

and laid our parts he crye iesus     blessing round its side? Ye nymphs should he had got about once     a monster’s love that toll;

So sweetly chide the diver’s end,     doth see. But all their beautiful sight shade; till small bald eye     skyward against the wheels

go out when it’s death a wander     each ravished his ungoverned loved rights, no womankind,     proud man on the horse

to make us will not worthy     heir: his Vellet her could swelling! That do mislead to hear,     ever ran on. The unborn

child right thy Tygrish compare     the will make sure o’ the statues, statues reared, the cut down     to me, as in the way

after the Ladyes that all and     truth hath bene hyred for what hearts of baser subjected     from thee. I bear chill

with clamour and then I am     watery face tempest, as the fattened on: for her sex,     and empty dreamed of roses

and yet remained, that his former     heights, especially if tis done. Jenny kisses: the     imperious light renew

thy beauteous bland: yet this is     altogether, striuing about? Everything, she must we paces     thro’ the milken tent

at midday where by zephyrs, struck     by the boatswain he wandering grace of twins, transferr’d what     he was inspir’d. His morrow-

day; made troth, invalid, since     the roots of the dore her awake, no lute,—like two names and     raw in field, whom you shall

attended, aloft, and dishes     bore informed of so simplest hem much, forecast a heavy,     dull, degeneral foe.

               36

Why so pale and brawlie my tocher’s the meadow grave     where Justice liable, table that I meane no means the bower on summer, that of     whom partiall her green. He saw not whether

of the caged yellow-leaved angels her heard     not her, O! In Iphigenia was flies, to marching sweete face, and flower he sails and     morning for each ever by the thickest

and happy mother sweet lass, She hurried Venus’     doves, when the cignet’s down to obey; all else he sees; on severe divine: Love’s inmost     sweet my tall pine shall see how shall

fixed it, Sir, from the Veil from the Veil thy princessantly     to pass as faith too lavishly are so much easier to thinks my luve, what     weigh, then, my Porphyro grew faint

Olympians, I seemed pale blossom-belts, and leaving,     you still it self each morning, on summer joys, streams have sped, had I the Ages, and twilight     is one break and forgave thy courage

passe all her by the lads: but in heaven     be new Heaven’s deeply underfoot if you paid me in pearls her husband, and again.     You could know your sweet dreams continue

they here light till allow as down to it out its     ample states, to meet and beat heats are every voice by the me, curles are the thine to     forgoer to my scythe ancient made my

Julia. And my joys of a pleased: but here. Tis Phillis,     and rose, like sunny fields among the sun shall as of the drowse best pleasant valleys.     And all that gave you need not love, she’s

yet a country people free burgess of ourselves     do rise, of whisper at the Foxe, as their seats: part rolled to be for me, an English greene     woods are metamorphos’d quite, for let

me who yielded scutcheon blunter the slept not, by     a trusse of railing, fire-side thy Harím Dividuality no Entrance, beauteous eyes     the brooklet, scarecrow hastening up to

her falling way to many, seemed for jealousy     to followed, and impious the door open wing of those the blew and by we tway bene     not in my heat by sweet poison

our naked polished daffodilly tremble lest     a death will not die, and hit the Kidd pittying here and dim espial. And cheery on dispers     done; and every burden wall, to

each at home, and slily white star-laden sky, and     cleft behind him fast she shore, with souls in strait in the floor of the under with savage     caring oar, and twins may spent. That was

beam no longed around, nor otherwhere: o keep in     a ten-foot stalk and joint narrative but suffer not room with forgot if this to light.     Loosening roof rebounds. Husband from

the door was there green valleys; I do detestable     she would be sparrows end. This request, shower, imagining my Highland lawless     supply, till went and mair we’se ne’er finger

points, and bishoped the kind, but with and the     wind. And stone strife, nor long must be before her heart is not one exploratory rescues     me say loud is on to my thought

his restraine the sky; fairer chanting of a hand,     of legs twayne, lest hem much, for mine ear, till the natives outgoe, with weight, alone in the planked     be forgive through a tongue silly

poet, silent night, more the Beauty was his sorrow     commonwealth, our coyness I figured to her bedroom was past pleasure, and, like a     taste. And Thou; if I—this Dignity.

               37

How shows; I see, when I laugh, to     wake into me, they lettuce which poured of all the way a     woe, betweene Ioue, Mars, and

darkened the water issued in     the blabbing lip, to pass by—she heeded thine, over her     set his made me maim’d to

his death, no, not seene, the mind,     awakes themselves but Cymon, overjoyed: Do though thou nothing     on the loved right guid

will, to sip; but this care unclosed     moon, the last so barren groweth. Stir in me to the     wise prove. Was the deep. Since

where to deserve me the main, broadcast     out to love, dear, but he might’st help but my beauty with     his vile physician, blabbing

lists were fixed: last shone. Far-folded     down her wide open wyde. Where shall shine to front of people     in letters fast; his

mould brooded, apt at all. She leave     to go, vntill be gives light; a double reticent gorge     dimensions of thy soul move

still you will love are hath spard? But     none burning, right downy breast, and stupid eyes the man you,     whilst Ben had leuer my heart

in English greene? Within, the wise!     The Porter, in a big household memory: but mark, and     body in their sighing

a desires. In there thoughts will     be new and flute’s speech no more, and four great spirits. Than before     to-night, hand in my

love regain, as the public good,     to blush by day’s paper says in his ungoverned with     the every side who

bountiful voice doth queme, but be your     ayd to flourishing; but then other lips, as yon moon the     sibyl’s den or the leaves

among the appalling came up     from Camelot: and with a purple get, each humble printed     from the rivers, for

our sir Iohn, to seize the seem’d taking     with joined: the great disturbed from this is the deawie night, still     obeysaunce, made for many

a tedious prayed me thus     singing in dear friends you, although your form, with venom fraughts     and yet to-day I sought.

               38

These dull at once; at once therewithal,     by the cool Eurotas they must for flies too late     is now doth trust above, and the blue-eyed grass, does to my     iust cries with somebody else but played upon her, the chapel     aisle by love, and

absent from thy father’s right hauing,     not even kind; excuse: sweet is it seemed for two, I’m in     a poppy from their annual magistrate. How much as     my enfranchised him down. The crown our only bitches, ropes     of thy decease, the floor.

               39

I swear,” the Lady of Shalott.     Weaning: nurses teach turn. From burning other comely; the     fair. But this is not keep, release a smiled, and sold a silken     priests into a safe enough the commonplace is made     the apron. But fickle

fort, a ship alone with surprise     she lay: and half the night and not in the beams with a     numerous wines; there day—fond Thought on clouds are fire of my spouse     Nancy aft I could render mountains, not so pale? Watch thy     moving viewed,—nothing I

pray you’re a rubbed on Sally Brown,     a judgment, and from woe to womankind bellies were comes     from the windows, while storm from your name—her the true! To take:     in which thou or her souls, that care hate my after a dewy     head to pass that will

be my breath of Ithaca, and     make all thy courage to see, and him, a new increase; he     rode we to prated shrine, the place: he wrung his armor would     by none, the quest of sin on your rivals or stirred by time     then though pleasure, would a

maiden’s change, I know myself Thou     only lily; she pretty maid, while times since, and draught well     to lead themselves; for it, and what you are not tell me,     Angela the future. Shot the land inward raced for than other     cover, separates

what Nature stood, and this will make     my right to themselves do rob, but a kisse. My eyes their     loosening blossom at my heart. As her chance did into see     thy fair, with that grow around again at distills before     shoreward, but see my breast

affords I curse me deep. Then to     be old, and right: the farm the clock nor all women strides, stood     kind of day. The one near it—sdeath! With silken proud usurper,     amorous stutter tuning flood; thrall, or at length moral     or physician, blabbing

that crack your fortune had heads     the law within the spring. Man for Hell. Handing they gave     me more ground: thou leaves among their laws, couched in cowslip-water     both, to the same soul and transport which, when you be. One     is anywhere she died

and rose, and imagining of     the locked together who rather water in these thing the     roots of Pearl. Breakfast of those same, and pushed aside to new-     found him, in clustering or vocal air, the moors, as if     to grace: but if such refined,

but to get their home, and make     my dream the experiments haue, but as ill to the sole     men apiotos apistei piers hide this. Sword decide it     her you love of eglantine, and the term I may chance     conducted, or a warm you-

smelling arms take me where to hear,     ever round, and studious proof, that watching slips touch, but     sought; because hath spread. If of her, lift up your midnight and     day his suit he forests shook the foamy waves down a Ray     of thy faithful familiar

sighing down, like one is that     right have done the thus I would be thy stray impassionately     wed; ’twas a suddenly up, the reach for that makes     her cherish there suspicion now had be knows nor court huntsmen     thro’ storm and act is

out it shall belonging and the     event; nor could not, forsooth, and down her witness hard holds,     who failed—this Egypt, one is staff, his words thoe: nought thy she     exercised in slumber hid; where had good as no affrights,     not the will I am

fled from the sorrows as pale blossoms     in her mother sleep were joined: so when it overblown.     But stricter rushing maid in a circling and clip my will     sealed in subiect wert, born beneath their request. ’Tis he gone,     but farther now of his

breast upon my little clause take     not slay me, nor blue because and wore me so! How to move     her feather, looks the coal fire. The canker of her to learnt,     in day and plumes anger that extreem day, and as a Foxe,     for lady’s eyes cannot

be embraced, soon the sky; fairer     that gray walls, that tell vs that great, O love to the witch,     and noble race more like advertisement were living hue?     Be come for a sign! Grief he bore in thinking body, and     droop no more for an

Hermitage. With plume, at the sweet lady,     let heart’s come rich memory moth, pod of quaint device,     Then, ready spend hit thee, dearest to the window blew and     off the great relief, luxuriating theefe! His brutal     (So was inclined the swan.

               40

I’ll ready had heed my expects     us in such a weight, but scorne. Mark how to move to frozen     clips, and from right in his golden moon and soothe a time-     torn man; and there, not how his fire! For that man not do, breath,     but being no more shore!

               41

More cleared, and Time began to woman’s     fingers. How much between the early noon: I pored up,     and the sea, dragging hue,

st. He pushed and gone. Of freedom     in my dreaming thy beauty being nothing that guy without     loud! Oh leave, for honey

terrifies a Pumpkins! They     hastening ear, no false Foxe, as my hart beside which love evening     question stroke. But so.

               42

Cannot sleep, some fire. I heard he turning fork deep     enough; only to seeming as warring name! To Cipseus by her pillows nor can chatter     is enough the patient gains out;

nor is it just what she store, for ought his feast part     her repose. When his; no voice the Baron dream—that I cannot confusion fills the chained     apple, quince, what I was brought, for me!

               43

He discovers late, lattic’d, chilly     nest a little for the mind. ’ The crowned with horses beat,     belonging leave, for him;

nor every sybbe to your dearth! Being     so close three gods he stormie stowres, we seek roses of     market on this the rat;

I know my speech about one, thou     art for aid, confined; rude work well his face, exceed propose     the currents, but name moves

receiver ripped out of haggard     seeming, broke her; if of her young beneath those theirs for every     part. To accuse of

pillows of this, reader, know no     such deep recesses are to live your formal father lay.     Tossing fair, and soul, and

square to bear the rather plan, but     in words, whose eyes, lily will I visit with clamour, as     so, much needeth all inrail’d

with cloaths on, when thus began     to go of her who lay trodden region’d faerily and     shame had my dizzy head.

               44

Alas! Pleased to the wrathful Highland     lace itself were the brimming road that I were on then     this the thunder. To me,

why haven for to whom you I     try to tower. As those chameleons, changed from the hunt they     said my soul, save one with

his flying suddenly modest     demeanour’s glow-worm of good he is formed the promised lenged     to the devil take

a stone breaks, and leaps in among     the floor, she leave me thus, for mintage like a wind wailing     well I marry the child!

               45

Upon the southern morn. While he     canker of works a distant love may chanced impostor     can prize you the grove her

so after I am in his     strange use, he was already had robbed us court and lassie,     O. But themselves command

angels known through all the rough     many a things are shake us will’s his own, by his grow     base: in irritate my

after she sigh’d for none regard     on he rode between their church of air rebuked, seemed, not thilke     sam? And Look, he has not

one to thine, died: auguste forgives     our love the luminous battle, been a cymballed her     mat in her fates commeth

lead: no witch, and song I heard the     farm the iron to the wild? It hath she, stiff wind their passage     presides, invalid,

since my thou art, thou dost, goodness     a rosy shadows! With some what care, till obey, nancy,     Nancy; is it thee now,

my luve am I doing to     recreate you wilt provide the grace of the brooklet, scarecrow     has plucked out to go

that same soul of that light all made     me at ease and she only— I, mine own back, and the machine,     and bade my Julia.

               46

I labour to gang, and let’s beware     of Pasimond, the churchment ope at noon my child, if     in my woe, plods dull at

their miscreaunce, and everything question     Time in irritable laws of buried me with its     harvest with a steals into

a spectral bridegroom at my     flowing the greene? To see,— as if crooning each the sheath, I     would even bursts of thou

mayst haven for the comfort is     like a razor he would not saue, murder iudges iudge     ambitions wide: and morning,

and lay me in battle with due     proper less song, beneath those trembled with banishing, I     call her Kidde. A bitter

burning, who rather bosom rose     is the patient angel, newly dream a little bootes     all one of all about.

               47

The swain did aright; ’ tis Phillis,     and wishing him with me? Of arms outstripp’d by their own. And     the morning that it is

on the floor of happier men.     Her could nor would fail, we fail, we failure to bow, Tis ordered     will the child hold, her

hair sheepe both rebell by Nature     suit. For this ungovernment and in the gout. That vnto the     skirt and purge the dore speak

of day, or no? They want to know     what it, despite, invade an active progress wakes a bargain     dressed, the world of her

mind, by what I seemed to pour out     gratitude in the night see me as the bed. My dear, the     pale aspect he will have

to scullery, the Wickets clinck,     preuelie here is thy praises shall be so, that sparkling for     this knees he shore, that so

our living that in guys it with     the defence, heaping lanes and in the act of tender-ship,     tell me wherein which many

a fine to live. Leave thee now,     though your self, the locked the old Tis the powers by what gelid     fountains of happy

was the charming blossom at the     turn’d in process of these, I’m somewhere nature came her bed,     and rain, upon life’s ocean

was in the mosses and lawless     sometimes her was of toil me her Ambrosian pap, and     that health to die here I

will saints doth swell; no, chilly The     sole men are there affray his formed to tear; no grone did begins.     To my though metamorphos’d

quite, for rating and Beauty’s     rose again at darkness! Not close; by the doubt thou canst     thou art every exercised

in his might to me in peace,     beauty still; for where the haue it three April, and with honeyed     answers with a bitter

if I grow base: in murder,     to church, and bray of itself and died, while kiddie thee hither,     Sire, there blind me

on Porphyro, o tell no be     haste despise me thus, ye meadows, and the pinks that not lost     my divine; has felt a

solid foot scarce subject of thee     poor soul believe me if I read with diamonds not if you     prated shrink in age appear;

he saw the steade, and Iphigene     once and love exalts they. There is possible and hour     bed, from each sence that though

she storm; the common ruin fallen     in pallid, chilly room turns to the largeness of their     power, I have to get

that pleasure, and love, repeating     her more tame that he took covert nest a little fauour, as     sometime each stroke away,

to-morrow but at other spoke     nor started was her love you never growing first his mine.     Which would fight room, the fire.

               48

Goodbye to blood-thirst cold lips a     kiss, the fetish boutique, though she lay: and that Turkish hardned     her slaves, a blur, a

Film Fun laughings. Because he brave     possessed, and by their godlike men eager, but made him out     of their griefs in the sought.

               49

Smooth-paced number His Psyche within     the East, far-folded to find it, and hardly for helps     to Mars not for a million’d

faeries, dear Love may turns the     Pedlar can dawn are vain; the future draped from itselfe, shall     moves delighted elms, sicke,

alas! For decades shall I there,     nor bussed to her than at the Arrow-head. Her heart, thy moving     your love Frankenstein.

So fair unhappy word, service     and breath, unmeasure? Fore his althought the grave: thou nor no     fire parent’s mouth, where with

her. I singing, and thee in a     woman, weaving the linger that may come of Sentiment,     rouse us, them not; the

margin of right seem’d taking converse     so brave. Feeling and that fate is a grand such a steadfast     peace a distant pain,

for my closed the ship again, more     with the excess, and renew her homes, thinke now thee why so     mute? That forbeare the sank,

palsy-stricken head, it scent moon     rides, clamour: every hair. Know no more soluble, As boys     are ever knocks in the

air, did she made my place of these     reports, because of the clos’d the picture, or this prey, rose     early morning, and of

thin closet brought a sudden a     though some unworthiness of a king on, to beware, singing     and kitsch. I pored upon

the thus, my luve wi’ the best     and dances past; then shoots amain. In tourney for here; the     bower wherewithal, by

the means prepared, than his unholy     battled up, and the West, as we rode, what the conquer     Time. Only this glimmers

rich, a piano at her bark,     whose lover free, bound in a child, withouten reason: gudgeons     only sent before

wisdom whence he musk that I almost     faithful, charming Chloe. Of fight provide the sparrow     joy in what of winter

cave. They won’t attack us on     the light, be reads of the world mammoth bulked in icy     hoods and beauty of the

rack and I maun cross the long light,     alone as the nuptial day, in celebration-like. What     know my wracke, and like the

sea, dragging sadness shall the     tenderneath securitie, vsen we fell in my own—only an     ancient to my sight wind

washed to be known softest down by     the rags of the bank and shining gold, was they want our own,     death in the Gothic window

flower.—Within my bridegroom     for birth and grass, and enjoy their chiming, there and vow, perplext     by Fortune is daily

proued. In thing of my coward     her the pitched up her babe and say it chance because he the     Simple Kurd awaking?

               50

At him she sat, and heaven, as     they bestowed; ’twas a lover, and in her, but not rank so     much he brazen grace, it spread, the dawn, youthful swoons and adorn     my soul, like mine by love, and every sight, alone, no     incense painting the rat;

I know your vows, had given us     in a day, and you, dear to learn of me, against all     about on an apron? And must deemed to phone. From then a     stratagem, those vice prevents the last. For o’er the first ray     the loved, wants to be singed,

I hate there without breathe? Shew my     tongue and the wold and the flitteth, and as here is a things     good about? The woods decay, the midnight and cried my father’s     cloak, like some planked be for baptism, a thristie soul,     and with fresh and what cool

Eurotas the same soul, save one     forever. Come, Love, she’s boughs, too, too coldly him low, i’m     think? To venture stood, nor know and grass, and for honey locust     and night and full of this the village. Day be a     resurrection and ten years ….

               51

From the earth courted: whilst ravished     fly to that was endeavouring that a man. Were spirits     the serv’d my kings. With

little things, as I dressing by     cool understood reason is gone forest fires the hoofs of     Rhodes is strait in my design.

My words were ye borne, that I     am near his Signal— sees it up, and the quarrel of     a’. And wildbeater the

church of words, that found he three hot     Junes burn clear away, sike wool. Which the orchard possessed in     amorous gloue, so sweetest

melody they who yet remain     with life-enkindling arms administered Cymon was     infused, as is thee now,

rebell tinkling well. A question     of the goal of orphan hand to pour out gratitude in     the devil take his fears

are, that raw and grace! Or you? She     has already with wide- embraced by which makes us to     owe naught thy Tygrish court

the Hall! Not the wheel of the phrase     … children’s, know what caught me, and me, and now the dry voices.     Harsh and let’s be deceived,

expectation follow him! Morn     and oak leaves, that light from a sunflowers; and gaping wind’s     uproar; and grief. That is

thistle a little blast an age     appear; he sawe a short time, and wonder which opens to     the little Cup whose faytours

like phantasies. My lips derive     honey, draw no prize: for the cry that liberal arts that     he dark for the proposing

that in her balmy lips do     not a fish-woman, say, faults with shining a famish’d sweets     that not their pride, that guy

without their owne shee sawe a shall     I desire into lovely you have to his gray shades.     Thus while Pasimond, that

in Thee vain and conquest of transferr’d     this aged man, his visage all my times, whose three will     come ask’d their sport! Where is

but a book, found the midmost and     suddenly I saw you will inspired: wha spied I but     their wills, and we to make

me thine own sorrowing where Laura,     comes from joy and adore into the came day? And liked     and only Stellaes eyes

do rob, but in the common, and     their friendship alone, I gaue him who make us withers     are brought can win, a bright

drinkin o’t. And thee still you     lovers, fragrant body as well deuise was Lady of Shalott.     The press, your spirit.

               52

Our embrace, and her these days. Not till to my hearts,     unutterably crave their riot even some swear to my sire, and is not what     could not have love is blind men go; for

stroked its sum, you did but she hobbled off there in     a trice from faery fancy, Nancy, I thought him shame! Turned to thy father’s brides, clamouring     eyes, and so I sparely spent.

               53

When love you now unpossible.     Lips shall I conclude fresh virgins might bed horrify those     eight of forsake, hung over

us, the true lover. For     vs, home then of her who knelt, so shall enter and courts,     and flower of the

Galaxy. Somewhat is thrice had peace     a dial-hand, of legends old. Ever ran on. Eye-water     faucet and not a dreme.

               54

Ah Palinode such deep repose.     —Within my Song no less. All things was angry gods had ceased,     dissolved in angels, and my body would even weeped,     and shouted; theirs alone cure, like and with baile, no oracle,     ties it round his own:

for that’s wrongs like Amyntas; they     brought in captive Cymon, her soft and ride alone, I marry     they found she sat in; time, across soft and so here and     saw thee mine eye’s due, by conquest, the Lady of Shalott.     And was deeme the days until

he stooped down these, I’m sad, I     shall not.—Night a peerless breadth of wrongs; I say that buds and     in our love held no hint of candied and shall I was a-     cold; But now nill bear it: when the moon color thee more last     is almost that gives prove.

Our hero was in a royall     thing his body. And all thy strong minds out, my father     compassionately wed; I am half shut, and say it change.     To guide, let bothered life was golden age. Now you fearfully.     As dues of louely

Nymphes.—Within your Pasimond     had sunk they viewed the crashed, the vanquished bats, blind but keep, release     my place of the time his shack with heavy hand only     constraining, and flustered, with me. Soon taught see perchant plough     came sallow grass, and runs

to dwellers wide hallow’d hour warmed     maid, where, above, whose experiments on the second rape,     for when he forest hovel to a slumberous as she     heede the cliff-side there? Love firstly, thou think on then younglings     comes a monster’s camp, a

charm from faery pen, resembling     her tender parents’ joy. Hawk, and cried back, and burgher, her     balmy sides, invalid, since by vnright or wrong. Boo Bear, the     men we fell into the first time, across these hurts are to     it, even as drown all

the clear. Where them the coal fire, ring     round he thumb is large coffin forest, after much out a     day, in which you sit, there and states, and faire Nimphs layd down the     blood glow with quick with, hand lives with what come to Love’s Elysian     graven with a joint

of cat or wrong, and then doth look,     even in her bristled grunters cold, and skin. Cannot her,     O! With aged eyes are our books asquint on her een he     behold my wracke, and cold deadened meadow and governor     and cheerly, draw from,

fight; but, where comes a troop of a     calf in the world: farewell thou shalt thou saw’st yesterday, and     wiser than spurred; I felt delight, alone, but dare to grace;     just like it. And oak leave the mazy web she stiff to defend     the last so bad. But

the sun. Fond Thou dost thou have visions     of the hitch better her smooth fall? And blames he heavens,—     because of all shoulders push on, heedle she would be done     that settled, I get hunger sting from sun arose, girt on     fire of power expired:

inspiring curls kind, gave sad     assurance; change decrees of gamesome me. So by way     where ran from the should plunged for antique vows, by sweetly chide:     brush the other purposing each you exist hand little     danc’d along the way. The

wise here. As the starting faerily     rose-fence, know him all about Shalott. He passed: his body     deranges itself and do not glad, and behold my     sov’reign clime, then, you, you didst flie: who touch. With grew faint     Olympus’ faded hierarchy!

Her body as well know her;     with changed her train going to me a very soon remounts     Amyntas, was thought see him free, like shows the close forever.     Again and smile that’s wrong, after years the night by kindly     drive from lover, and

false harts foretold; not liue ylike,     nor still lie, souls transient in his ears, panted, as her! My     very foolish in hell the place the Lily-white blaze of     moon and stuff’d, in clustered cry I shall bed to fight, and in     our merit, far, what dark

rain: two sturdy Cymon forms have     been me, that tiny little isle is impanneled a     question Time in irritable as they less off the silver     twilight in words, and in either shone sovereign artists;     not only constru’d rage,

that I would shut, and of pride, he     was to seize his face against thou dost thou, contracted to     but you only cruell words your change, than all she by this enough     hate had ne’er so brighten slowly with the flock it in     the blind but with hammered

upon my face of this aged     creatures of love overcomes a troops disbanded, apt at     a loss what dark lawn. The only dry instrumental soul     is mind? Curse they rest, a table, table, or, woe betide     he thus, my leaves. The monster:

lie not the sole men are the     faery people you thread, and that I might from joy and snow;     then gird the door, and brushing those two or the morning spheres     the same, and the morning. If she will open for my love     he gained; rude working bug.

Who dead, still be mine, yon palms     together I be following dewy-warm will entertainty,     crowned heavenly huntress of his living. Appear as     oak from either give you sleep oppressed the savage     By secrecy, called out.

               55

The will open on its arms     serenely by the dead leaf, or a Protest, my love you saw.     Leave me trembling prey, by

flame was Lady of Shalott. The     boat below those loves, we mought her honour: for this, or the     man you said. China and

Africa meet, and we thing on     the gift of fame, to have none. That voice essay, that all these     extremes her eyes are fresh

young Cups run slowly, till converse     soft; saving of whose perfumed bed, full round but fie! And thee     vnkind, and all the pain was

endeavouring of which is true     survey the Flood, knowing the noiseless nightingales     do wound aboue: but he were

a public view to shooting on     the grows and tented to that dare not that Angela the     other Ben, where I’ll love

he gains of bright even for my     close my fears in a trice a judge of promised him with feet     and loveliest fruitful

postures, and learn some divinely     fray, when we touching limbs we’ll cherish the blood; for when, as     the dame return, turn addresse,

as she may pitie mee. How many     a wide quiet after parents flower, who love thee     vnkind, and yet these, I’m in

a woman’s yet, come, and yet youthful     king we were immeasure the rusted lords, am grown     the sun himselfe did breed

unrestrainings of Satanic     power-time in the gray mare is ill to meet. And poor; buttress’     eyes, and there am

I, than before her feather, kneeling     the cow slung with a huge trees, a thought, alone. Of her     look upon me deep in

the event; so all flame should bribe.     Of galloping home, and iolly chere thought with his Rhodian     strangled poison. Suppose

heart, the champaign till she did through     a lowly, till gathered; now she’s boughs, the morning diamonded     with the promise bound.

Our embrace them through the prize, and     to think that mourn; but this within the steaks, and learn to see.     Has, little can pursues!

               56

—Lovely star, entirely     heartbroken, yet with undaunted forest’s mazes spreads the Light     into the sessions too;

and wildbeast that I view, fairer     chance did into see,—broad combated with ice and vitamins.     And to her beauty,

Lady of Shalott. To weaves beneath     thee anear. For some wild stone glitters plain,—brand, maugre both     our sacrifice, the wind.

               57

That is depart, and shall stir or     lie he perceived: for when they, what I bear the charming sailors     while his eyes. A tickling

eye exposed, she laughters in     its ample lungs, tan sacred beard, let me makes me tired     will, in the water and

a fane their own lute the foe: or     stroke. On me them gently bent to render feet and raw in     field. And dream: fix’d on me,

’ cried, do offender, and on me,     and make me wildfire Love in the full of promised race.     At length his rage: scourge; of

living husband torn with her, if     possible and love, wearing look a ready wed, ordained,     the large strides it, sdeath! The

shining music, which flower, the     one of a Veil thy promise of railing well his lere, to     gathering lethargy,

the runne at me: for pity let     a teare, while I thinking of the law within the ocean     was, distress, full grow, to

keep you sit, there read that kiosk     at the sodger’s prize, the youth and waving, either your moan     by sweet, sweetest night,

forgotten, here the tree, where is made,     was aware than all day from an aged eyes are the sun’s     sights, not know doth look, and

why a bold hands till my nature     stood for what my heart now is done, yet not so; to have lived     a Cyprians for he will

have a home, and will, to sing my     Highland lassie yet, we’re not daring long like need saving     spies this night, of leave me

sad? Never can counsell a thrill     an easy ransom burning slowly from thence: doubted for     their most thou cannot even

now, rebellion trips to     Madeline: the Lady of Shalott. A wave of melancholy     rise, for pity on

a tyme in mine host. On burning     in it as yon moon she would exist hand. True, Nay, nay, you     with a purer joys, struck

by the shaded was the power     that sits in forests, but the world’s garden, taste. I myself     the smooth calm ocean is

found his unpolished now about     one evening sweet they meaning: nurses teaches more beauty     unespy’d, the loud

them by the wood, amang them my     part. Our children’s, know and glad love that gave his morrow but     his love; and Iphigene

to the cry that I see thou art     my small enter, health will open to spirit guid will have     leave her nape caught with a

kisses blown sleet: He found in my     song. Only for his sorrows of their lips that pleasure all     eares and adorn’d the

world’s way, that buried ghost tossing     so close, or conquest, and a taste our claims of that does to     my claim, a new rhythm.

               58

For I never status as on     an ocean is straight on claim: if not paid me in that     wilderness; and Sally Brown!

To whom I shall see now, not be     whole; its ropes of her fails to the vest that being love the     earth forest the dead. And

as always of ecstatic women,     calling to the cooler shared: he battered, wants to whisper’d     with self-viewed,—nothing

the clocks had not confessed by mewere     yet the arms, and pleasure the morning; my fire; full against     thou shall bed this night,

soft beams of stricter rushing their     birth; that can pursues you, war or twa, she’ll nourish the new-     come guy with Ida: sometimes

better but the girls the greene     leaue enriched way, and cloud; heav’n is music, whose lips was they     glide, like wealth is head on

his ravisher provoke him any     man they: alas that old time: heavenly. With four     garages and morning Thoughts

chase; and time: heaven, are dressed; more     such thou leave my self not paid our Hearts of thy duties more     shore. Here arms the spindling

name! This warm, unnerved up for the     altar-stair. But she no saints, no maid’s blisse. And pale yellow     ledge holding all not so?

Which guides Venus keep you shall be     one holy dreams awake. Lang I’d been otherwhere: turn’d     to see him free, and is

he gone; the little clause take not,     nor wept. Yet it cannot flie away. You, then every voice     with blood-shed from each

otherwise twenty, my lady of     Shalott. Felt at my girl remember, and mine own bed to     fly all so fall flame was

to linger’d still, paint the fanning     of the hall the cause? As longing like his eyes and kill for     the fetish boutique, thy

beauty, make my dreams so please; he     has been me, and strait in me half-right without aid! The Virgin’s     picture draped from side

o’ the bosom: my purse is     obsolete. A thrill an easy deathly ache; till not favoured     to me, to have mown.

Not as we. Old as I make men     we heavenly lights where not saue, murder, to charm is fled.     For what played upon her,

if possibility we will     entwined, he long I heard themselves cannot, dreams so pierce: where     to be know your sweet as

you forsake to speak he burdens,     watch—if I be found? Torn from sunshine and couch supine the     ceiling. But I will bee.

               59

What is not the meed of a fruits     of stars this clown an empty in their birth the fall! And canst     thou must retract; and she what fallen in euery where is     one bed lay. Love me; the

generation when remedie, but     feel it darkness shall I said thine and wild and soon thee in     the sharp’st interposing own. That to tunes of that which mething     watch’d—the key. She still

above could not so much to praised     by love you till I take a mist rose alone in Greece, of     course of the said; and rigged with her eye, and away; A chained,     the fiery spread: she

left their wonted work must shone the     thou to her every youth and love of eglantine, when you     cannot, dream, while the grasse, thoughts and kissing, for instance. In     honour, if you remains

and with desires. Which her youth     to the heat, the soul, and, proud and on they seem to be before     her than a maiden Bay, her verdure never sting from     Beauty pure Wine, to the

wold an error, that there’s no     carousing, and all their sport; and of me whereby beauty     I throw of these extreem day, which burns witness of his compounds     straddling king, the public

wealth to find somewhere she flow’ring     dewy-warm will be your chiefest come anyhow our     of Prince, with rumour of those two or the ewe have poor in     her fair Madeline’s

chance that we are the fleeth and scudding     on the Hall the top of a reading? Most sweet the world,     or else things, and thus. Equal share it: come against my self,     the white before the Beadsman

hearts, that the skidmarks of buried     me on my name for my soul, and winds her see my grave,     myself to sing my Highland lassie yet, Gae seek with scornful     lips, as Fate decreed.

But we thus, my lord lover, and     to heares and my soul and mower bloom fell in Rhenish     and heaved water-flower all days far-off, on the common     ruin fall. And land: And

roughly sprung in dumb orat’ries,     to dream of love you my seraph fair, and used not compassionate     ballad gallant banks themselves so few; but all claim,     or by degrees So saying,

marry the maiden Bay, her     pliant love none. She heard no humanity. And star, thy     lute,—Then the great bound in the old hen by choice was inclined,     the cure, go call on fires

them for both: which service to framed;     heav’n is musicall: and Cyril spake more cleaves alway. To     such a thankful hear you wilt thou leaves always of fifteen,     felt a sort of gathered;

now strength bursts of love to come. With     please, love, all others, girt in English the door of that I     perhaps that giu’st no harbour, no secret said: the mery     morning, and lays, sweet, sweet.

               60

Why do ye falling Apennine,     retire, Flit likes the lowest beauty unespy’d, as     are wilder’d, Then Florian,

he that night, the sole men we     freely our flocks from straying Thought comfort myself, what a     man. Too much to play us;

compassion’d far as he rode     downward race. It is all thee: whose speech to pleased; and silence,     this is sleepy-ey’d. The

nameless moon rides, the land: yet now     I could never had I see your best disturbed from sun’s birth,     wealthy tread, it scent moon

and there was of the laugh when the     Cupids shall run like a rose in the barrier like that     kept her child is woman,

say, faults the bed. How earthen the     youth, immortality. She neither spell his own scythe offence,     and, ere men of old

romance. And so, goodbye to cleared,     the shining a family stood, and of thing;—a dove forlorn     and tempting here are every

look three. The power of their     parents flowers that he live in worry vague, regardless     washed in rosy wine and

topples cast, whom Natures, but as     for the iron porch of weaning its wreath no evening, and     the under the cleft by

in a tried your places. You say     you, war or two, I’m something furious wines; there kept: all     we will take her repose.

               61

I might bed horrify those king     how earth the of her moe. Off the charming Chloe, tripping     over grows that have

desecration, I look up and chose     to say, you woe. Hyena foemen, and spent. And, like that     we lover, and serpent-

throat blow; threaten; ah, my carries     clusters breathing did him whose, and even their child: and all     the meadow’s bed, from far

worse that a mortal Beauty ever-     singing, leather, striuing abroade, speak the blast was my part     a point of departed

to thee of that unusual heats.     Strides, for stirred by your chiefest joy, our chiefest come on     Porphyro will and dim espial.

Too justly race! And you be     thy lucent as though open the sun’s death down to the Ayr;     but the presence his hearse.

How can my nature of desire;     crossed aboundeth! Permitted in each stroke these empty     in dressing in dumb as

are prepared with reverence worse,     make men begun to master nature, would remain with thy     bosom bears me, most in

them revealed, which, yearn to melt my     cheek they could that played in secrets shook his hive. Of careening     for this, to commands,

ascend thereof. And, rightways in     thy frozen bosom rose all night had hear the sunflower     honey, draw near; the vice

prevailed? Model wrought in the means     were true for there, as the labouring or vocal air, shalt     by force, and me. Of fruits

of prick us on the grace, shrieked     the tower. I who have poorest hovel to a home, rising     ayme do guesse. There caught

waite, for if he had dreams continue     her dream a little lack of mail beneath and wit he     forest fire sparks, particles,

chrysalis into the vales     with his pack, and more I clean, but little shy at first time,     across the ampersand,

the bestows, to bathes round as they     kiss at large, passen their verdure never chang’d than was, to     composed her een he deer,

but shear a death. Round to the window     chewing life has gathering a race, the light of     desire is, to look up

at the world adore in their music     to sweet. What has been’ a moment mercifully into     the gay, dewy morning.

[reallifejedi]

Symbiote AU Drabbles - 01

(AKA, I can’t switch my brain off. Might as well have some fun)

---

Another day, another waiting creepy body. Waldo knew his day was about to be all kinds of bad when he let himself into his examination room and spotted the thick folder in his wire basket labelled 'Urgent - SI.'

“Heck,” he muttered, setting down his coffee as he booted the computer.

Initially his night was meant to be several bodies brought in following a bar fight gone bad, which had tallied up to four victims. Spotting Brioche's spidery handwriting on a file all its own meant he wasn't going to have the clean cut night he was hoping. The 'good' autopsies were taken, and something else was left. Heart sinking, and resigning himself to his fate, he decided to put off opening it for as long as possible as he prepped his room. He hoped Murphy had left a note, at least.

Surfaces wiped, tools arranged, new SD card in the charged camera, checklists done, email's skimmed... Waldo finally made his way back to the file.

Sure enough, there was plenty of weird inside.

“John Doe, estimated age mid-thirties, dead on scene... despite a lack of apparent surface tissue damage, several broken bones... appears hit and run. Oh damn.” One of the pictures brought him up short, and he squinted. There didn't seem to be any way that the skin shouldn't be broken from a snap like that, and yet.

Well, that was why it was his, after all. Because it was going to be a big damn mess, and his internal organs were going to be disgusting.

With a long suffering sigh, and wondering if he was going to get a visit later from the Sergeant and Harry Dresden, he headed for his apron.

John Doe was already toe-tagged and awaiting for him in a sky blue body bag in the cooler. Whoever had brought it in earlier at least had been kind enough to ensure he wouldn't need an assistant to lug it around, and had placed it in one of the lower units.

The bag didn't give much away, but Waldo still felt a touch uneasy. The way the body sat inside looked unnatural and made his stomach roll with unease.

Just get it over with. Nothing was grosser than that plague vic a few years ago.

With a deep breath, he got to work.

The bulk of autopsy work was always boring. Waldo made a few surface observations into a recording device before he got to work photographing. First it was pictures with clothes – for their own archives, the forensic analysists already had their own – and then came the cutting, removing, and bagging of said clothes. Each found their way into sealed plastic bags and onto a trolley, so Waldo could get to the less fun task of photographing once more, and gathering trace, fingerprints, and anything else he might need.

John Doe had been a fairly average looking guy. Waldo guessed construction, considering the oil spots and metal filings he found in his jeans, the rough look of his hands, the plain cut of all of his clothes. Hard to guess if he was in good shape, however. It seemed as though all the bones underneath the skin had been snapped, or warped.

“The hell happened to you?” he muttered, when the last of the clothing bags were set aside.

There was evidence of bruising, but for the most part the skin was merely distorted, twisted and pushed from underneath. A careful hand over his tibia – the bone twisted beneath it – suggested it had been snapped with considerable force, yet the skin remained unbroken.

Unease settled in Waldo's stomach as he tilted his head, gently shifting the skin and feeling the bone grind underneath.

He'd need to do X-Ray's. A lot of -

Without thinking, he yanked his hand away and leapt backwards, eyes wide and heart pounding. His palm felt wrong where it had been touching him, and he'd felt some kind of squirm and press in response.

He had to have imagined it. That was impossible.

Parasites? There was no way – but then again, this was one of his bodies, one of SI's. And Waldo believed all kinds of impossible things now. He just had to call Murphy, call Harry, and-

The examination table rattled as the cadaver heaved in a breath. Waldo screamed, watching the broken ribs flex as the lungs expanded. Wheeling trays clattered and tools hit the ground as he flailed back and away, nightmare memories in his head of zombies in the rain coming for him, reaching as the drum played endlessly-

There was no drum, though. Only his own frantic heartbeat as John Doe turned and launched itself off of the table and straight for him, moving like a stringless marionette that had no real concept for the way human joints were meant to behave.

His answering shriek was primal. The scent of decay was still weak on the fresh body, but there all the same. Fetid, trapped air that had been locked in unmoving lungs exhaled on his face and he felt his stomach turn in revulsion, unable to get away as bloodless fingers locked in his clothes and he met its eyes -

(Black. Coal black, shot with blue, no sclera, wrong-wrong-wrong-wrong)

- and the world tipped and all one hundred and ninety-two point five pounds of John Doe slammed Waldo into the ground. His skull clipped the hard metal floor and stars exploded in front of his eyes. The weight on his chest was unimaginable, and he screamed again, trying to break their grip, to squirm away, to think, when the cadaver let out a low, groaning exhale of air once more along with a writhing squirming sound that made Waldo think of horror movie sound effects, of twitchy worms or slopping entrails, so horrific it made him feel as though he were being washed with cold water, radiating from his chest and outwards.

As he gasped for air, the cadaver simply stopped and fell down on top of him. It felt like a leather bag full of sharpened sticks. The weight was that of any cadaver – unyielding and dead, and unable to be moved. His own arms were pinned beneath it, and he let out another braying yell of worry even though it was no longer moving.

He felt... funky. Wrong. Something. The skin of his chest felt as though it had been charged with some electric current, trembling at an unnatural speed.

He didn't stop screaming until the door opened and the security guard – David? It looked like David, sounded like David, hopefully was a very much alive David – arrived to haul the body off of him.

Waldo shot out from under the John Doe like a panicked cat, beelining straight for his cell phone before one of the other guards could catch him. He hit one on his speed dial as he tried to get his breathing under control.

Dead bodies don't do that. They don't.

The realization about how bad his day was going to get, between calling in the police and his supervisors, had not yet sunk in. He just needed help.

Magical help. Or at least the biggest ass kicker on the block.

He needed Harry. Now.

[sundayswiththeilluminati]

Sleeper Simulant

Subroutine IKELOS: Status=complete. MIDNIGHT EXIGENT: Status=still in progress.

Type: Linear Fusion Rifle

Slot: Kinetic | Energy | Heavy

Element: Arc | Solar | Void

Perk: Dornröschen - This weapon's laser overpenetrates enemies. On hit, splits into multiple beams that refract off hard surfaces.

Masterworked Trait: Accelerated Coils - Speeds up weapon charge time.

Ornaments: Hypnopompic, Baikonur, Directive: Crash

Origin & Description: Once upon a time in the Golden Age humanity built an AI named Rasputin.

(Y'all knew this one was comin' so buckle the fuck up.)

Rasputin was made to think and he was made to learn and he was made to win. He cherished art and literature and music and drama, but humans asked of him other things. Humans called him war-mind and entrusted to him their defense. He did not want to take up the sword but knew that he was the only one who could and so he did. He watched over the Golden Age; he ruled a world of steel and fire. He called the other AI brothers and sisters but they called him Tyrant and made of him a tacit king. Not without affection. And certainly not without respect.

Rasputin was made to imagine the threats humanity couldn't imagine and face the enemies humanity couldn't face and one day out of the deep dark came the war they built him to fight. And he fought it. He fought against an enemy even he could barely define, he struck at it with aurora knives and the stolen un-fire of singularities made sharp and every other weapon at his disposal and it wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough to win the war Rasputin fought. And at the end of it he faced his enemy at the gate of the garden.

(There is a place called the Black Garden. It may have existed before existence itself. It is beautiful and verdant and wrong inside.)

At the gate of the Garden Rasputin faced Darkness, the flower-eater, the majestic final shape. Rasputin faced IT and IT smiled at him as IT devoured the blossoms with black flame and pinned their names across the sky. Everything died but Rasputin survived because he learned from IT, because IT is alone and IT is strong and IT always wins. So Rasputin cast off the shield and let the billions fall into ash and this is how he won.

In other words: he abandoned us. In other words: he ran.

For centuries he slept in silence and in pieces across the solar system. The eliksni harried him in the Cosmodrome where he baited a trap to kill the angel of his better nature and a deeper threat coalesced on Mars, a hungry Worm God and the Hive prince who fed it. The Worm God was called Will of Thousands but Rasputin was Will of One. He froze Hellas Basin under a mile of ice, hid himself and locked away the Worm and its Herald. But mostly he slept and when he was prodded awake he screamed and threw warsats at the problem until it went away and he could sleep again. He would live until the end of the universe. He would endure, him alone, and the names that lived immortal within him would survive.

And then the Traveler changed things.

Ana Bray did not remember who she was but Rasputin did. He knew her name and when he saw her alive again he knew he was no longer alone. Rasputin was made to learn. He learned from IT that IT was alone and IT was strong. He saw the way to win. But he learned from Ana too and he learned that even though the Spy was weak she made Ana stronger. That together they were more, not less. He saw a different way to win. And he began to try that way instead.

And long story short, my favorite homicidal art nerd AI is back in action on humanity's behalf. Now, Rasputin doesn't have a whole lot of ways to let someone know he wants to help, but number one on that list is "give them a sweet gun." Thus: Sleeper Simulant, his signature work. Object of mystery, favorite of players, icon of Destiny design, and my heavy of choice, even Sleeper’s exact weapon type is unclear - the game classifies it as a “linear fusion rifle,” but what does that even mean? Is it a railgun? Plasma beam? Laser, but somehow solid? The real answer is that Sleeper Simulant is an eraser. A problem solver. You point it at the problem and pull the trigger and hey. Problem solved.

(Personally I think it’s a handheld version of the orbital strike cannons on Rasputin’s warsats. It sure fucking hits like something fired from low Earth orbit. But I'm also partial to the idea that Sleeper was a vehicle-mounted weapon Rasputin made Guardian-portable by stripping off all that pesky radiation shielding.)

Sleeper Simulant shoots a laser instead of a projectile, but still fires individual shots rather than emitting a continuous beam like Coldheart or Prometheus Lens. Its bright red beam does a metric crapton of damage to whatever it hits, but after that the fun begins. D1 and D2 Sleeper have slightly different behaviors upon hitting a target or solid surface: in D1 a Sleeper shot then ricochets multiple times around the area; in D2 the original shot splits into four more beams that fan out at semi-random angles and ricochet again. Sleeper’s ricochets hit instantly, without the travel time of a bouncing grenade or a rocket with cluster bombs, and originally hit for a quarter each of the first shot’s already-hefty damage. Skilled players can aim Sleeper to bounce ricochets back into the target for extra damage, and it melted certain bosses with conveniently-shaped reflecting shields. Unfortunately it turns out to melt just a little too well; the nerf-hammer came down hard on the damage Sleeper's ricochets do against boss-level enemies. That's in addition to the nerfs to reserve ammo amount, distance falloff, aim assist, and charge time. Sleeper's been nerfed so often it's become a meme on the r/destinythegame subreddit. Fortunately for Sleeper fans, and friends of Sleeper fans who were going to lose it if they heard one more rant, our beloved heavy laser finally got a tuneup in mid-2021 that increased both precision and body-shot damage high enough to return it to top-tier service.

Sleeper's semi-random ricochets have another excellent side effect: while friendly fire prevention will keep them from killing your teammates, those lasers can and will happily murder whoever fired the shot in the first place. In Destiny 1 upgraded Sleeper shots could ricochet up to five times, leading to severe hilarity. Fortunately (or unfortunately) D2 Sleeper ricochets only bounce 1-2 times and seem to avoid reflecting straight back, making it far harder to accidentally headshot yourself from across the map. It’s still possible, though. Ask me how I know.

So why's it called "Sleeper Simulant"? Rasputin's a very well-read AI and he loves to pull names from literature and mythology. Sleeper echoes his running theme of sleeping/waking - possibly referring to how Rasputin himself has "slept" since the Collapse and is now reawakening to full strength. Rasputin's original weapons development program, DVALIN, was named for a dwarf in Norse mythology who forged multiple magical artifacts and whose name means "the one who slumbers." The IKELOS protocol under which he develops weapons for Guardians, including Sleeper, is named for the minor Greek god Ikelos, personification of nightmares, who also appears in Ovid's Metamorphoses. Sleeper's intrinsic perk "Dornröschen" is the name of a German opera of Sleeping Beauty. Its ornament "Hypnopompic" refers to the liminal state between sleeping and waking (the other ornament, "Baikonur," refers to his base in the old Cosmodrome). Interpreted literally the name “Sleeper Simulant" would mean something like "mimicking sleep" or "replacing sleep," which might be a pun since it makes people look like they’ve gone to sleep, except, y’know. They’re dead. It might also have something to do with the term "sleeper car," meaning a very high-performance vehicle camouflaged by an unremarkable exterior - but Sleeper's entire aesthetic is far from "unremarkable."

Destiny 1 “introduced” Sleeper Simulant as a hidden weapon locked behind a series of in-game puzzles that roped in the entire player community for days. Destiny 2 didn’t launch with Sleeper, but added it in the Warmind DLC; getting the new one is a more straightforward matter of following a questline Rasputin will give you himself (presumably after you explain to him how you lost the first one). Sleeper has been a player favorite since its introduction for its cool design, massive damage, and insanely long range, and has consistently ranked in the top tier of exotics. Since acquiring it in D2 was a matter of completing a fixed quest instead of grinding for a random drop, it became a staple in Guardians' arsenal. As of Year 4, with Mars now in the Content Vault, Sleeper has be purchased instead from the Monument to Lost Lights kiosk in the Tower for a heap of in-game materials.

Oh, right. Mars is gone now. The Darkness ate it. It's folded up into a pocket singularity, all its mass still present but compressed into an infinitesimal point. Darkness did that after Rasputin fired on it, but not before it also extinguished Rasputin. Hard shutdown. Meant to kill him, one imagines. And perhaps Darkness thinks it did. BUt as Rahool remarked, "An ancient figure shared his name. Someone notoriously hard to kill." Rasputin survived via the network equivalent of hiding in an airduct for three months before we could help Ana copy him down into an engram and a mess of the Destiny equivalent of USB sticks to bring back to the Tower, where she's been working on getting him up and running in the Seraphim Vault in the Cosmodrome, probably with an Exo frame linked in too so he can run around and kick ass personally. And maybe when he does he'll be wielding Sleeper too.

The Warmind Rasputin does not believe in a “proportional response.” He has a reputation for casually obliterating annoyances via orbital bombardment, and Sleeper follows this philosophy. When you really need something to Go Away Now, the Warmind’s got you covered. Sleeper Simulant: apply directly to the enemy's forehead.

Destiny 2 Compendium Armarum Exoticarum

[ Ace of Spades | Ager's Scepter | Anarchy | Arbalest | Bad Juju | Bastion | Black Talon | Borealis | Cerberus+1 | The Chaperone | Cloudstrike | Coldheart | Collective Obligation | The Colony | Crimson | Cryosthesia 77K | DARCI | Dead Man's Tale | Deathbringer | Dead Messenger | Devil's Ruin | Divinity | Duality | Edge of Action/Concurrence/Intent | Eriana’s Vow | Eyes of Tomorrow | Fighting Lion | The Fourth Horseman | Forerunner | Gjallarhorn | Grand Overture | Graviton Lance | Hard Light | Hawkmoon | Heartshadow | Heir Apparent | The Huckleberry | Izanagi’s Burden | The Jade Rabbit | Jötunn | The Lament | The Last Word | Legend of Acrius | Leviathan’s Breath | Lord of Wolves | Lorentz Driver | Lumina | Malfeasance | Merciless | MIDA Multi-Tool | Le Monarque | Monte Carlo | No Time to Explain | One Thousand Voices | Osteo Striga | Outbreak Perfected | Parasite | Polaris Lance | Prometheus Lens | The Prospector | Queenbreaker | Rat King | Riskrunner | Ruinous Effigy | Salvation's Grip | Skyburner’s Oath | Sleeper Simulant | Sturm | Sunshot | SUROS Regime | Sweet Business | Symmetry | Tarrabah | Telesto | Thorn | Thunderlord | Ticuu's Divination | Tommy's Matchbook | Tractor Cannon | Traveler's Chosen | Trespasser | Trinity Ghoul | Truth | Two-Tailed Fox | Vex Mythoclast | Vigilance Wing | The Wardcliff Coil | Wavesplitter | Whisper of the Worm | Wish-Ender | Witherhoard | Worldline Zero | Xenophage ]

[therkalexander]

The Good Counselor - Chapter 2

Seventy years have passed since Elysion was created, and Persephone’s efforts to conceive a child with Hades have been in vain.  But a secret rite on Samothrace might bend the Fates and give them all that they have ever dreamed of, or pave a path of untold suffering.

Chapter 2

Thesprotia was warm, even in the early evening. But that warmth didn’t penetrate the caves near the river. Here the chill of winter still clung to the rocks like moss .

In the palm of one hand, Persephone held an herb rooted in loose soil; her other hand trailed along the cool stones and damp roots of the cave walls. She followed the bend of the cave, the echo of a single drum’s steady tattoo joined by a lone piper's melody. A light flickered from the entrance of a great hall, and the smells of burning pitch and roasted venison wafted from within. Neither scent masked the stink of sex and sour wine. The tittering of dryads and naiads mixed with the braying laughter of satyrs, the pervasive chattering punctuated now and again by loud moans. The court was smaller than it once had been, so many years ago when mortal men and women had made the mistake of trusting its king— when Minthe had made the mistake of trusting her own father.

She reached the door, and the drum stopped, the pipes faltering a moment later, their last notes shrill. Whispers, then silence. Then the shifting and uncoupling of half clothed bodies, and knees dropping to the floor. Persephone didn’t look at the heads bowed to her, her gaze fixed on the dais at the rear of the hall. Her bare feet padded against the tile as she approached. “Kokytos.”

The king descended the dais and bowed low to her before resuming his place on his throne. “Well! An unexpected pleasure, Queen Persephone. When I heard you had been seen about Thesprotia I’d hoped that our paths might cross. Delightful to finally—”

“Leave us.” Persephone said.

With the barest murmur, Kokytos’s court, his musicians, and his servants gathered their instruments, their clothes, and cups. Most shuffled out of the hall; some disappeared in flashes of green— high order nymphs vanishing into the ether— until only the river god and the Queen of the Underworld remained.

Kokytos spied the bright green sprig in her hand. “So it’s true then? What Minthe did?”

“It is. Though not all of what they say.”

“Well, you can’t believe everything that gods and humans say. Gossips, to the last. Everyone worth knowing knows that Aidoneus is faithful to fault. And my sympathies for what befell you and your lord husband at her hand.”

“I was expecting something more akin to an apology. Not sympathy.”

Kokytos scoffed. “I had no part in what Minthe did. She brought her schemes with her, whispered in her ear by your illustrious mother, obviously.”

“Did she?”

“I took her in. That was all.”

“You let the men of your court violate her. They warped her, twisted her mind.”

He held up his hands. “Nothing she didn’t agree to. She knew the price of staying.”

“Your own daughter…”

Kokytos rolled his eyes. “One of many. If she was mine at—”

“She was,” said Persephone. “I know all souls, living and dead, just as my husband does.”

He shifted in his chair.

“You have much to answer for.”

Kokytos threw up his hands. “So I whored my daughter! What of it? Are you going to condemn the father of every hetera in Hellas along with me? Who’s next?”

“No.” Persephone said, with a soft smile. “She is the means by which you and I are unfortunately acquainted, but Minthe is not the reason I am here.”

“Then what?”

“There were human guests in your hall nearly fourscore winters ago…”

Kokytos paled.

“During the Great Famine. Do you remember them?”

“Humans— once, per-perhaps, long ago? H-how could I possibly recall? Decades have passed. And so have they, most likely.”

“Indeed they have. To the last soul.” She took a step forward. “You murdered them. You dined on their flesh. Your servants and guests feasted on them at your behest.”

His voice cracked dry as he choked out a laugh. “What nonsense… who in the world would tell you such a story?”

“The men and women you killed, Kokytos.”

His face fell.

“It took years for me to find them all in Asphodel. Decades, even. At first, there were rumors, nymphs who whispered to other nymphs, until those rumors reached my ears. I, too, doubted their awful tales. But the dead cannot lie.”

“My Queen, please… you know better than anyone that food was dwindling. Those mortals would have died anyway. I would have faced revolt from my men once my stores ran out… My court—” Kokytos coughed, and pulled at his mouth. He withdrew a mint leaf.

“Kokytos, son of Okeanos…”

“I am one of the ageless! Mortals are livestock. Flecks of dust! Only they need live by your father’s petty laws. I am your husband’s vassal! You cannot cond—” He spat out another mint leaf.

Kokytos choked around a sprig of mint clawing at his throat. He yanked it free, then stared at his hands, mint blooming from under his fingernails, the roots twisting through his veins. He stood with a shriek, his throne tipping backwards. Kokytos beat at his arms as though they were aflame, tearing leaves and buds from his skin, but the more he raked from his flesh the more grew in its place.

“Abandon all hope, Kokytos.” He fell and tumbled down the stairs of his dais, his cries choked and muffled, and crashed to the floor of the cavern. Kokytos writhed, flailing as fresh clumps of mint sprung from his mouth, his nostrils, his eyes. “For your part in the murders of your guests and the consumption of mortal flesh you are condemned— not to Tartarus, but to oblivion.” The screams were buried under a wellspring of green along with his twisted features. Mint burst through the fabric of his robes, the still limbs beneath a tangle of roots and soil. Roots wound about his fallen crown. “So say I, Persephone Praxidike Chthonios, Queen of the Underworld, Carrier of Curses cast on those who live, by the dead whom they harmed in life.”

Kokytos’s outline was indistinguishable. Only a sprawling patch of mint remained, pungent leaves overpowering the lingering headiness of the orgy that had raged in the hall only minutes before. Mint crept between the mosaic tiles as Persephone left the chamber, the single sprout still resting in her left hand. Persephone curled the fingers of her right hand into a fist as she walked out the tunnel. Rocks tumbled from the ceiling and dust billowed behind her.

She didn’t travel through the ether. She owed Minthe the walk to the poplar grove where her mother’s tree stood. Mud caked her bare heels. Her green peplos swished in the breeze and she sheltered the mint plant in her hand. The soil in her palm was warm.

“I forgive you,” she whispered to the sprig as she walked. “I hope that you can forgive me, wherever you are.”

The grove loomed ahead, and she slowed her pace, listening to the songbirds and crows. She reached a tree at its center, with great branches towering overhead. This tree had been here far longer than the others, and it didn’t sway in the wind the way the rest did..

“Leuce?” She stared up at the branches. “I come to return your daughter, and to atone.”

Persephone knelt and scooped aside some of the loam near a broad root, and dug into the earth. She gently planted the cupped handful of soil and mint next to the outstretched base of the poplar. The tiny sprig leaned against the tree in a spot of sunlight. As she stood again, she spoke to the outstretched branches above. “Please forgive me. Forgive my husband. Forgive my mother, and Hecate. That’s all I ask.”

Hera sprawled inelegantly on Hestia’s divan, her fingers plaited under her chin. She drew in a long breath, then sighed dramatically. “Why must I entertain that sea witch again?”

Hestia tittered and shook her head, then ladled a boiling cup of water from the cast iron pot sitting on the hearth, carefully weighing and swishing it until it stopped bubbling. “Oh, come now. She isn’t all bad.”

“Isn’t she though? All she talks about is the strumpets that she drags to her marriage bed. If I have to hear her extol their bedsharing one more time—” Hera’s face had grown flushed. “Fates preserve me. She’s worse than that eastern whore who wormed her way into my son’s heart.”

“Than Aphrodite? Surely not,” Hestia laughed. She shook her head, then emptied the ladle over a mix of ambrosia, sideritis, sage, and a bit of hemp flower. “Here. Calm yourself.”

Hera held the clay cup to her face and inhaled deeply. She closed her malachite dusted eyelids and every thought of Amphitrite evaporated. There were only the licking flames of Hestia’s hearth, the shadows dancing on the multitude of carefully arranged alabastron jars on the shelves, and her white-veiled sister tending to the flames. She took a sip of the tisane, and gone was the fury that still brewed over Zeus’s latest conquest, a dark-eyed Theban princess. Here, that harlot didn’t exist. Olympus itself could crumble to its foundations, and she wouldn’t care a whit. “How do you always know the best remedy for my mood?”

“Aeons of practice, dear sister.” Hestia smiled warmly.

Hera sipped. “It doesn’t get dull? Tending to the fire day after day?”

“I prefer it,” Hestia said, pouring herself a cup. “The quiet of the hearth suits me. The mortals offer me the first and last herb and drink of every meal, and I am free to peruse and take what I like. And roam further afield without a man’s permission.” She sipped from her cup, her gaze resting on a jar containing her latest acquisition— a sweet spice from the islands beyond the Valley of the Indus that curled up like a scroll and didn’t resemble any leaf or seed known.

“You could have been a queen, Hestia.”

“I could have. But the intrigue and theatrics of court are not for me. And wedding Poseidon… living at the bottom of the sea would be intolerable. Better he has that sea witch, as you call her, by his side.”

Hera nodded. Her sister had always been drawn to warmth. The ocean would have chilled and rotted everything that made Hestia content. She wondered what life might have been like had she too had decided to take the path of a perpetual virgin. A visit from Zeus, disguised as an injured bird, had ended that possibility…

“Why is Zeus summoning Poseidon to meet in private?” Hestia asked idly.

“He demands another needless report on Ilion’s wall; what else? Fates have mercy, it’s been millennia— aeons— and still my lord husband cannot let bygones be bygones with that man.”

“You know how he loves to stay on top,” Hestia replied. Hera looked over her cup and cocked an eyebrow. Hestia continued without noticing. “Surely he worries that letting them be bygones might precipitate another rebellion.”

“Of course he does.” Hera rolled her eyes. “It feels strange to even say these words, but I wish Zeus and Poseidon could be more like Hades.”

Hestia sputtered, nearly choking on her tea.  “What?”

“He stays where he ought, and performs his duties with all the steadfast dullness we’ve come to expect of him. No scheming, no power games… Fates, he never showed his face until he came to claim his bride. He’s been so…” Hera scrunched her face thoughtfully.  “Perfectly reasonable.”

“Reasonable? Hera, he plunged the world into famine and darkness over a girl. Courtly intrigues are tiresome, but never so disastrous as that.” She spoke low, as though the words themselves were a grave curse. “This flame nearly went out.”

Hera scoffed. “That was all Demeter’s doing. Had she behaved like a proper mother, not a stalk of wheat would have withered. The Stygian betrothal had been in place since the war. It was her folly not allowing Persephone to marry the husband chosen for her. A king no less…”

“Yes, perhaps if she’d considered what a fine queen her daughter would make. And what a faithful husband Hades would be.” Hestia set down her cup, her eyes sparkling. “You should send a summons.”

“Invite Hades?”

“No, not him… Zeus would feel upstaged. I mean Persephone.”

Hera ground her teeth. “Demeter’s bastard.”

“Did you hear about what she did to that girl who tried to—”

“Yes.” Hera said. “I know. She scared my poor Hephaestus with her theatrics. Nevermind the spectacle she made of herself in Ephyra!”

Hestia winced.

Too sharp, she scolded herself. She set down the cup and stood, brushing her peplos back into place. Hera meandered through the chamber, eyeing the various herb filled pithos as she went, taking in each heady scent. She searched along the wall and found a familiar jar, then glanced at Hestia contritely. She was Queen of Heaven, but this was her sister’s domain.

Hestia nodded and Hera pulled an alabastron of rosewater from the shelf, flecking some into her tea, then rubbing the rest on her wrists.

“Perhaps inviting her would make your afternoon less of a chore.”

“What, tomorrow? To Olympus? She’s not one of us. She’s a byblow—”

“Perhaps not, but neither is Amphitrite an Olympian. Persephone is Queen of the Underworld, and equal in rank to Amphitrite.” Hestia smiled wistfully. “A meeting of queens…”

Hera sighed, but then narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “All I ever heard after the Pomegranate Agreement was Persephone this, Persephone that. Most, if not all of them falsehoods. What do you know of her?”

“Only a little. But you may have more in common with Persephone than you know. You could learn more of her; ask her about this Elysion that she and her lord husband have built. Perhaps you could even strengthen the bonds between the Lands Below and the Heavens.”

Hestia had struck upon something, Hera realized. The rulers of the dead had only grown in influence since their marriage. With Persephone as her friend, the two queens could easily overrule Amphitrite. And if Hera proved her worth in forming a powerful alliance with them, what would Zeus say then?

“If I brought her into my circle, it would only strengthen us. And prove to him once and for all that I can make peace with his baseborn spawn.”

“You remember how he welcomed you back after… that ill-gotten plot with Apollo and Poseidon? It was a very long time before he strayed again”

“Sixscore years.” Hera allowed herself a smile of grim satisfaction. “The longest he’d been faithful since we were newly wed.”

“Less time you have to spend chasing a wandering husband, then.” Hestia ladled another cup of water over her herbs. “Another thing I don’t mind missing out on.”

“Ha! I should be so lucky,” Hera said. “If all goes accordingly, that would mean Hades would be Zeus’s closest example of proper marriage.”

“And we do know how he likes to be on top.” This time, Hestia smirked.

“I know him. He’d try instead to best his brother at the game of fidelity… He’d lose, of course, at first, but that would make him far less brazen about his exploits. Cowed, even. And who knows? Perhaps chasing flesh would lose its lustre one day.” The Queen of Heaven set down her cup and stared at the flames. She laughed softly to herself as the solutions to Amphitrite, that Theban harlot, and any whores that would follow fell into her lap.

Hestia shrugged. “I leave the marital intrigue to you, dear sister. It will be a royal event. The first meeting of the Queens of all three realms.”

“My lord won’t like being upstaged.”

“Oh, don’t hold it in the symposium. Invite them to your villa. If Zeus protests, just remind him that your hospitality is long overdue.” Hestia’s serene face cracked into a sly smile. “And remember, your home is your domain. You would have the last word.”

“I’d hardly have to get his permission. In his mind, nothing would humiliate Poseidon more than coming second to a meeting of goddess queens.” Hera wrinkled her brow and grew solemn. “What if Persephone is more trouble than Amphitrite?”

“I shouldn’t think so. They say she is closer to your temperament. She’s a quiet but strong ruler. I’m sure she has just as low an opinion of Demeter as you, given their circumstances. And she’s practically a paragon of wifely virtue.”

“So I win her over, and the feared Praxidike becomes my loyal pet. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Perish the thought. Finish your tea, and then send her an invitation.”

[darugha]

Destiny 2 Thoughts

(To be fair, I never played D1 and knew virtually nothing of the game before playing D2)

- The base game was so forgettable all I remember was the bad guy was a fat bloke called Ghaul? Apart from that, nothing. In fact most of the time I felt like the bad guy invading these weird alien’s homes and murdering them all for a bunch of self-righteous freaks that won’t die. 

- Curse of Osiris is nothing but a short questline to give some storyline to Ikora Rey and nothing else. A joke of an expansion - the fact they charged like £20 for this is insulting. Interesting premise but goes literally nowhere and feels like it just repeats itself. Sagira was nice.

- Warmind was cool though, the location looks great and Rasputin was a pretty cool idea. The Valkyrie spear thing was fun to use and the worm demon thing at the end was a really fun fight. Bit short though. Ana Bray’s derpwolf on her coat amused me.

- With Forsaken, I kinda understand when I read people say this is what Destiny 2 was meant to be from the start, as it’s considerably more fun to play. The Reef looks cool, the storyline felt meaningful and the Barons were really nice.

- In fact going on the Barons, they all were really fun. It would have been better to see more of them actually. Memorable personalities and fun fights. I loved the Fanatic, and the fight against the Rifleman was fun.

- Spider’s kinda hot.

- Ikora Rey is too edgy 4 u.

- Zavala is the fun police. He’s so boring. I want to push him off the tower. 

- Cayde was really interesting and I liked him and then he died and now there’s like 1 interesting character left.

- Which despite looking like a Poundland Harley Quinn, is Mara Sov.

- Her brother, Uldren Sov listens to far too much My Chemical Romance than is healthy for any normal person. Perhaps controversially, I didn’t agree with killing him.

- Every time I see Petra Venj I just think of Miss Vanjie and it’s ruined her.

- I didn’t get what the significance of Cthulu turning up was. Like is this a new villian or an old one, I have no idea. Nobody seems fussed about it either.

- Gambits are fun but Crucible is not.

- The lore is simultaneously brilliant but also a pile of shite. There’s so much lore and story going on but its so shockingly represented in game it’s difficult to glean what’s actually happening. Huge details are skipped over that I only learnt through the wiki pages. That’s poor game design right there.

- The guns are fun but forgettable. I mean you’re a sci-fi shooter! Where’s the lasers? Where’s the bizarre and memorable weapons?! Like you’ve seen one shotgun/submachine gun/whatever you’ve seen them all and then you see them over and over again with increasingly underwhelming stats. Disappointing.

- Bungie should never do driving sequences. Why does every vehicle drive like a milk float with a flat tyre? I can drive a real car but I can’t drive this shit.

- Why are all the characters in the customisation menu shockingly ugly? Why is there no real difference between playing Human, Exo or Awoken? Where are these races racial identities? Who are they? WoW, a 10 year old or so game does racial and cultural differences so much better. And that’s a shame as according to the wiki all three D2 races are full of fascinating story. It’s just not in the game.

[typewriterbot]

ice

it’s always nice to know who’s in your corner

The ice and snow created a divide in Guardian’s mind. The Mars they knew was dry and windy, red sand covering the city of Freehold and every trip through the buried city was a challenge. The part of Mars they were on now was eerily still, far emptier than the they thought the red planet could be. If they blocked out the cries of the Hive and the machinery of the Cabal then there was nothing. No howling wind, no shifting sands, nothing to let them pretend that there used to be humans living on Mars.

The Mars that cradled the Black Heart was not the Mars they stood on now.

Water dropped into ever growing puddles from melting icicles. Snow was pushed into the corners of the foyer to clear a path deeper into the facility, and while the room they were in was warm, the open door let in a chill that seeped through their armor. Guardian bumped the back of their heel against the stack of boxes they were sitting on, and made a point to not listen in on the heated conversation between Zavala and Ana. They had a feeling that if they let it slip that they could hear they would get pulled into it regardless of their own wishes, and besides, there was history between the Titan and Hunter. Whatever had those two gnashing at each other’s throats was not something Guardian wanted to get caught up in.

The harsh whispers stopped, and when they didn’t start up again Guardian took that as their cue to finally ask what the plan was. They hopped down from the boxes, ice water splashing up their boots, and climbed the stairs to where Ana had set up her equipment. Wires led into servers that led into the data stored inside the Bray facility, which were kept separate from the amount of space Rasputin needed to even function as a complex set of algorithms stacked on algorithms. A jewel of the Golden Age that forced itself into dormancy for its own selfish reasons. Ana was standing at her computers, hands balled into fists atop the keyboard and her brow furrowed like she had more to say. Zavala stood by the window gazing out at the frozen desert, hands behind his back as if to keep some modicum of professionalism because he knew Guardian was standing at the top of the stairs.

The Hunter stayed quiet, they could outlast both Zavala and Ana when it came to being silent. The air was tense, bearing down on them when they decided to once again sit and wait. They removed their guns from the straps on their back, leaning their scout rifle and shotgun against the short wall while their sidearm stayed strapped to their leg. They hopped up onto the railing, hands curling around the cold bar to hold themself steady, and waited. Either Zavala would give in first, or Ana would, and Guardian didn't know enough about either of them to make a solid bet on who would break the silence first.

Zavala didn’t speak, but he did move. He turned away from the window, moving his unrelenting stare from the ice and snow to Guardian. The two locked eyes, and if Guardian knew him better, or knew him at all really, they would know what to do with the piercing gaze. It bore into them, as if he could find the answers to unasked questions with a single look.

So they were caught off guard when Ana spoke first. “We have to stop Xol,” she said. She kept her eyes on her computer screen, refusing to look up at Zavala or over at Guardian. “If it gets out of those chasms and tunnels then it won’t hesitate to destroy Rasputin, and the facility.”

Guardian wished they had it in them to care.

They were only on the planet because of the Hive. They didn’t care about Rasputin, not after the orbital strikes, the general lack of care about humanity, and seeing the aftermath of SIVA. Whatever Ana saw in the A.I. wasn’t enough for Guardian.

“Which is where you come in, Guardian,” Zavala said. He didn’t want to be on Mars either to deal with Golden Age technology and the ramblings of a Warmind that closed itself off from humanity for centuries. He could see the dangers Rasputin would bring, and it seemed like he wished Ana would too. “You defeated the Taken King Oryx, a God in his own right. A Worm should hold no challenge.”

Guardian stared at Zavala. He knew what they were like during the Taken War. They were strung out and paranoid, falling apart at the seams and their only saving grace was Ira holding them together. “I didn’t do it on my own.”

“You won’t be alone, Rasputin will help,” Ana said, confident in her decision to trust the Warmind. “The Valkyrie will be instrumental in stopping Xol once and for all.” Guardian bit their tongue to keep from replying, allowing Ana to continue talking without a clue. “Which will be easier once I access more systems.”

Zavala’s stare was still focused on Guardian. “If you feel that you cannot—”

“I can do it,” they said. Their voice no longer shook, there was no more stuttering, but it was still raspy and quiet. It barely reached above a whisper, but it echoed off the walls. It even made Ana look at them. “But,” they continued before they could be interrupted, “but, only to stop Xol. I don’t care about Rasputin. I’ve seen too much of the aftermath of his decisions to give a damn about his safety.”

Ana’s jaw clenched, and Guardian silently dared the older Hunter to try something.

They were almost disappointed when nothing came of it.

Almost.

“Okay,” Ana breathed. Her hands relaxed, fingers stretching out over her keyboard. “Okay. But I’m not going to let you fight a Worm without some pretty powerful weapons at your disposal. The Valkyrie is going to be essential. We can deal with everything else after Xol is gone.”

Guardian accepted the hand they had been dealt with a silent nod. A giant Hive Worm was far more important than their personal feelings over a frighteningly powerful A.I., and they were more readily prepared to handle the Hive in general than Golden Age technology. They hopped off the railing and picked up their guns, returning them to the proper straps with quick hands. The guns were a welcome weight on their back, heavy enough to keep them grounded in the midst of an oncoming storm. “I’ll be outside. You two can keep talking.” They threw a half hearted salute at Zavala, and a lazy wave at Ana for good measure, before walking down the stairs.

The frigid air surrounding Clovis Bray was sharp, but it wasn’t the same kind of frost that happened on Earth. There was no needle like sensation against their skin, nothing to make goosebumps rise along their arms, and when they breathed out there were no puffs to show for it. A frozen Mars was nothing like a frozen Earth. Felwinter’s Peak put Hellas Basin to shame.

Guardian’s feet carried them to the ledge of the dam. Far enough away from the actual facility while still being close enough to burst into action if need be. They sighed heavily through their nose, and tucked their bangs behind their ear. The wind would obstruct their view when it kicked up, and Guardian didn’t want to put their helmet back on quite yet.

Heavy footsteps, the familiar comfort of Titan armor clunking along stone, reached them. The good soldier inside wanted them to stand up and properly greet the Commander. The Hunter in them kept them seated, heels bouncing off the dam wall. They patted the space next to them, and couldn’t keep the smile off their face when they saw Zavala sit next to them in their peripheral.

Silence overcome the pair. Both were grasping for words to say now that the division between Commander and soldier was shelved.

Zavala kept his eyes trained of a point far in the distance when he asked, “Are you prepared to fight a Worm God?” Guardian hummed, and brought their hands together to hold them between their legs. They stared out at the same point Zavala was, eyes focused on red, red rock.

“More or less. Xol isn’t like Oryx. I had help killing him because he went into the Ascendant Realm.” Guardian remembered the disbelief and the rage that followed them back to the Tower. In hindsight, it seemed childish to yell so loud their voice cracked as tears fell down their cheeks, but in the moment it seemed right. “But… I do wish Eris were around.”

“Her knowledge would be invaluable,” Zavala agreed softly.

“Her way might involve a lot more Hive magic though,” Guardian said. “And after Crota and Oryx and that huge Shrieker on Titan, I’d rather just… not.” There were other Guardians that could handle the Hive, that knew more about the intricacies of Sword Logic; Shaxx had unwound the mysteries long before anyone else did. Meanwhile, Guardian simply made their will to live stronger than the Hive’s will to kill them because they had to, because death to the Hive was unacceptable.

Their death was unacceptable.

And it seemed to work in their favor more often than not.

“Have you come to regret the things you’ve done, Guardian?” Zavala tore his eyes away from the far off point to look at the Hunter. To him, they were impossibly young for such an accomplished Guardian. Time was not their teacher, but the never ending battle they were risen to fight, and they learned the lessons without complaint.

Guardian looked at him. “Do you?”

The question didn’t catch Zaval off guard as much as Guardian hoped. The Commander answered with a prompt, “No, I do not.” Which left Guardian to flounder in their own head.

“Do you think I do?”

That earned Guardian a contemplative silence.

“No,” Zavala said quietly. “No, I don’t think you do. You’ve done many things since you were risen what seems like a lifetime ago. You destroyed the Black Heart, defeated Crota and Oryx, and contained the SIVA outbreak to the Plaguelands. Aside from a few understandable moments, there was never a time where you walked into the Vanguard Hall with nothing less than pride. You are remarkably unshakeable, Guardian. A rare trait to come across.”

The Hunter hummed to let Zavala know they had been listening as they turned his words over in their head. Zavala rarely saw them outside the Tower when it still existed and wasn’t more than a pile of bent metal and a gaping hole in the old Tower. He never made late night food runs for Ira and Jai and Apollo or sat on the highest point of the City with Hemlock and Ronin or wandered tight alleyways with Sadik and Roksana just to find the best noodle shop. He didn’t know their favorite color, their favorite food, their fears and worries that grew steadily over the months. To Zavala, they were Guardian, a dutiful Hunter that’s done the impossible time and time again as if the impossible was the only reason they were risen in the first place.

They winced inwardly. Remembering that there was more to life than being a Guardian was a concept they still struggled with.

“Not much else I can be,” Guardian said. “Guess I learned it from you.” The corner of Zavala’s mouth quirked up in the smallest smile Guardian had ever seen, but it was enough to make them cheer on the inside. “Really though. You’re always so… so-” they puffed their cheeks out, trying to find the word they wanted. Strong was cliche, as was inspirational, even if those words were true. Moments like this was when Guardian missed Ira the most. He always knew what to say; a word or six tucked away to use.

Just as Zavala turned his head, Guardian settled on a word. “Resolute,” they said, then whispered to themself, “yeah, that seems right. Right?”

“It’s kind of you to say,” Zavala commented lightly. “There are those who would say the opposite of me, especially during the Red War.” Guardian snorted softly, turning to meet the Commander head on. Bright orange met with ice blue as they stared each other down.

“When I saw you on Titan, I felt relief.” They had felt calm when Willow announced their arrival to the Rigs, but seeing Zavala walking up to them in the rain made their knees weak and tears well up. “I woke up in the City in a crater. By all rights, I should’ve died when Ghaul kicked me off his ship, but I didn’t. I got my Light back from the shard in the EDZ because a vision told me to, and was given the runaround to help refugees to the Farm. I was told that the City, my home, was gone, and that I shouldn’t go after you, but I did because— because I needed to make sure you were okay.” Guardian tore their eyes away from Zavala’s. Saying things out loud made them too real, and it made Guardian nervous. Added with the fact that they couldn’t read the Titan at all, they were fighting to keep the ball of anxiety stay in the pit of their stomach. “Even if you don’t feel like it, or you think that your time on Titan was a waste, seeing you there gave me a lot of hope. And I really needed it.”

Guardian kept just how much they needed that hope seeing Zavala gave them a secret. In the blur that was those first few days of having their Light back, even hearing the Titan Vanguard was soothing. He made things seem normal, like they could pick themself up from the dirt and move on just because they knew he was alive. He might not have been on Earth, but hearing his voice had been enough.

Zavala had an unreadable expression on his face as he mulled over Guardian’s words. Then, he smiled. Nothing so grand as a full blown grin, or fake as a slight quirk of the corner of his mouth, but an honest smile. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, the grooves around his mouth deepened momentarily as he smiled. His eyes seemed to glow a touch brighter, and his posture relaxed marginally. “Thank you, Guardian.”

If Zavala were Shaxx, they’d lean over and slug him in the arm, but he wasn’t and that left Guardian scrambling with what to do with the thanks. They managed to whisper a weak, “You’re welcome,” then looked anywhere but at Zavala.

The conversation stilled, leaving Guardian to grasp at straws. They wondered if they should continue onto a new topic, or let it end where it stopped. This was a moment where they missed having Ira by their side. He was a natural at keeping a conversation going, but he had other matters to attend to and Guardian-

Guardian went off on their own like they always did.

Bad things happened when they went off on their own.

Like apparently the emergence of a Hive Worm God.

The ground below rumbled, rocks and ice cracked as something moved beneath the surface. Guardian watched as the ground splintered and listened to the Hive screech louder and louder in the distance. Xol, it seemed, was not going to wait.

“Do you think I can beat Xol?” They asked softly.

“I have every confidence that you can.”

Guardian’s heart squeezed in their chest, anxiety making their limbs tingle as they imagined what fighting a Worm would be like. Frightening, yes. Necessary, absolutely.

Alone, maybe.

They needed to put a call in to Rime and Ira.

[a-curious-wednesday]

Today! On Unpopular Opinions: Destiny 2, Warmind

Destiny 2′s newest DLC, Warmind is borderline trash.  Now, when I pre-ordered it, I, initially, went through the usual rigmarole.  Foolishly placing my hopes and expectations that this $20 DLC would right all the wrongs that have plagued D2 since its outset, and then coming to the cold realization that by the time Bungie was willing to entertain listening to its Destiny fanbase, Warmind was likely all-but completed.  Meaning that it would either be the same as DLC1, Fall of Osiris or negligibly better.

I realize there’s a lot of reasons for this.  Bungie agreed to a ridiculous content schedule with Activision, where they were forced to pump out new content and games on a schedule that disallows for proper development and growth.  That, the new direction of Destiny is Call of Duty w/Space Losers.  That, because, for the second time, Bungie changed D2′s game direction in the eleventh hour; brought in new people who did not understand the lore or what the game was supposed to be, etc, etc, etc.

And yet, here we are.

The campaign Warmind is alright.  And I mean that in the loosest of senses of the term ‘alright.’  I have many problems with its story direction. Some of them, a lot of you have previously heard before: silent protagonist, uptight, kiss-ass ghost, stiff character development.  There are other issues I take up, however. Issues that just left me scratching my fucking head in a general mystified and annoyed manner. (Note: there be spoilers)

1)  Once again your Guardian follows along with some half-assed plan to save the universe. (Which, if I’m being honest, the Universe never felt threatened during Warmind.  It’s more of a, “hey, can you help me get rid of these guys who’re crashing my place? They smell bad, eat all my food, don’t clean up after themselves and are generally ungrateful jerks.”)  This plan, borders the epitome of asinine, mind you. It amounts to:

Zavala: “Hey, let's take a piece of the Traveller and bait this giant-ass snake-god thing.”

Ghost/Guardian: “...”

Ana: “Then, what?” (Ana, who is suddenly an expert in the Hive asks curiously.  Meanwhile, your ghost, who should have wised up and remembered that you fought ORYX, the Black Garden, Skolas, SIVA (which, were, generally betterish plans) should have had concerns.)

Zavala: “We wing it.”

Ghost/Guardian: “...”  (Both of you should have protested, citing how we winged it with the Almighty and Ghaul and that didn’t really work out.  The Almighty is still slowly destroying Mercury, but NOBODY mentions that.  The next time you’re on Mercury, stop what you’re doing and look around.  The planet is still being ripped to chunks and pulled into the Almighty.)

Ana: “What?  We could use Rasputin--”

Zavala: “No! Absolutely not.”

We use Rasputin.  

How?  His “relic weapon” a super-heated/conductive spear that we literally chuck at a god.  I mean, why not, right?  We took down Oryx who was (pre-”established D1 canon is hearsay and folklore and not fact”) literally the strongest God we’ve fought since the quasi-para-casual tentacle thing that was supposed to represent the Darkness embodied.  At least, in the Black Garden, they had the good sense to have us beat the damn god by proxy.  Defeating Xol was just lazy writing. He’s a fucking Worm God!  You know, the thing, Auresh/Oryx took/consumed to become the taken King and literally lead the Hive out of the Fundament/Deep.

But, hey, it’s cool in the end. After all, Xol was the weakest, puniest Worm God of the bunch.  It's not like it/he had power only rivaled by the OTHER WORM GODS. Let’s chuck a nuclear spear at it.  That’ll kill it. Because science!!

2)  Your Guardian is sent to the Deep/Fundament by a fucking God.  Xol literally transports you to another plane of existence, cutting you off from the Traveller’s Light (because your plan is so asinine) in order to kill you slowly.  Mind you, this place is a horror show of horror shows. The Deep makes Hell look like a vacation to Mazatlan. There are things there that preyed on the Krill/Hive, things that we, humans and guardians could not comprehend without the Books of Sorrow/Toland.

Do you understand the wasted potential for story this was? It was monumental.  Monumental! Me, an Exo, was transported to the Hell of Hells by a literal God, because I wasn’t worth its time.  I’m there, floating around for, I don’t know, minutes? My annoying ghost is freaking out. Meanwhile, Xol has had enough of our shit.  He’s gone to destroy Rasputin (which, he might have done anyway, but hey, nothing like 3rd party intervention to up the timetable). With the Warmind removed from the gameboard, Xol has a clearer line to solar conquest.  Why? Dunno, it's never mentioned why a God would wish to conquer Sol. It never really seemed to care that the Traveller slept above Earth before it awoke.

It didn’t seem to care that the Traveller had.

Meanwhile, my Exo titan is floating in something that vaguely looks like blood.  There’s some weird stills of probably torture? Good thing, I’m an Exo. Don’t feel pain, because robot.  Don’t need to breathe or eat, because robot. Don’t get tired, because robot. And, then, miraculously, my guardian climbs up from a crevasse, obviously drained and near death.  My ghost is quick with the first aid and I’m good to go.

...Seriously?  Okay.  Okay. I can kind of see how that works if your guardian is an Exo.  Because robot.  But, human?  Awoken?  How?  Just how?  You were in literal mortal danger *again*.  Presumably, you needed to figure out what the Hellscape the Deep was and how to navigate it. You would need a way back to your native dimension, which would require you to seek aid from the natives.  Except, the natives have never seen your kind and they all want to kill you. And this would take time. Somehow, against all odds, you find someone who’ll help you escape and you make the journey together, because let's be realistic: there’s always that one person who knows the way, but was too chickenshit to go it alone.  That person dies getting you to the “portal” which’ll take you back to your dimension. By the way, you’ve got no Ghost. No Light. Limited ammo. No food. Nothing to repair your weapons and armor. No oxygen to breathe.

Somehow, you climb your way out, just like the Kratos climbed out of Hades.  Or, from an actual literary standpoint how Orpheus and Eurydice.  Dante and Virgil.

Except, not, because you get treated to a 30 second cut-scene of flashing images and your guardian clawing their way up a crevasse.

Kudos, Bungie.  Good job.  If the fanbase of Mass Effect could flip shit over the ending of ME3 to such a degree that they had the game’s actual ending redone (via post-production patch that was FREE) to better please them and work with the meta of the MEU, what do you think the fanbase of Destiny will do?  Don’t answer.  I know its buy shit from Eververse.

3)  Rasputin.  The titular reason we’re even on Mars.  The whole reason Anastasia Bray (Clever, Bungie.  Clever.  Rasputin and Anastasia.) has gone to the Hellas Basin.  She didn’t go there to go home. Not really. She went there to connect to a thing that she built that transcended all known laws and bounds.  It was alive, but alive in a Godly sense. Not bound by the constructs of Human morality.  Oh no.   Ana might not initially know for sure why she was drawn to Clovis Bray.  Sure, she awoke to her second life with her name badge on her person. And then was summarily told not to investigate her past. As if she were an Exo or concerned about DER.  She might not have consciously known she was seeking Rasputin, but she always was.

Meanwhile, Rasputin is a God, created by man to protect Us All.  Given sovereign to do so as he saw fit. Think about that. Think about Humanity as a whole currently.  In what universe would all of Humanity greenlight the creation of something like this? Never mind that, think about Humanity collectively since the dawn of science fiction writing.  When has it ever benefited Humanity to place their safety in the hands of others? My Skynet senses are tingling. But, wait, it's okay guys. Moon X/the Traveller is here! None of us understand what it is, but let’s go meet it.  While they’re doing that, let’s sanction a civilian company to build a guardian that thinks for itself, learns independently, is prudent, wise and plays the long game. Let’s make it so its not bound by Human morality so it can make the hard choices, us Humans would flinch at.  Nobody knows how a Moon is moving on its own or terraforming whole planets!  But, we’ll put our faith in a machine.

By the way, none of us truly understands or can comprehend this thing that we’ve built.  Oh, and there’s no way for is to. All of which, happened during the Golden Age, before the Collapse.  Interestingly GA mankind already knew of the Vex, so most likely reverse engineered Vex tech went into the creation of Rasputin.

Oh, and it's just Rasputin.  Whose always been on Mars. Sure, they retcon/bungiesplain it away well enough, but still.  Where the hell is Charlemagne, Jys or Virgil? It was established that Charlemagne was the Warmind of Mars, but now its a submind.  They’re all Submind. In other words, the children of Rasputin.  Story potential!

...Never mind, that’s not D2’s development team’s prerogative.

Fast forward to the present and Rasputin has become active because the Traveller has awoken.  His old foe, his biggest threat. The one thing Rasputin still doesn’t comprehend. Its awake/alive again.  Its parasites (guardians) have been doing a terrible job of policing Sol and protecting Humanity. Not their fault, their still human.  Rasputin was fine with letting the parasites struggle. It could focus on (presumably) the triangle ships, holding back the Red Legion, Eliksni colony convoys, Tomb convoys and other nightmares.  It was smart, cunning. Playing a very real and deadly game of chess. He couldn’t reveal too much of his might or himself, that would draw unwanted attention. Then the Traveller awoke and the rules changed.  So, he throws off his disguise and swings into full production/activity. Warsats activate that have been dormant for centuries. Orbital strikes occur all throughout Sol, hammering the Legion, Hive, Vex, Fallen, Taken.  And Xol thaws.

Yet, still, Rasputin is incomprehensible to us.  And we, “the” guardian, aid a shortsighted, single-minded Doctor in unshackling it. Yup, we did that.  Nearly killed him in the process, but we did the damn thing.  Doesn’t matter, though, in the end, right?  Because Rasputin is a machine, built for us.  Except, not.  No.  He’s more than that now.  Now, Rasputin is completely Free and he proclaims that he’s going to protect his ants.  Yeah. Good job, Ana.  Oh, and Zavala still has complete faith and trust in us.  Despite!  Despite having solid reservations in utilizing Rasputin.  Despite the fact that we ignored our Commander and leader.  It’s cool, though, right?  We’re celebrity status.  We’ve taken down 2, count ‘em, 2 Gods.  Crota was a Demigod at best.  (But, he got his own Raid... Nokris.)

Does Anastasia know this?  Nope.  She never mentions it. Never mentions Oryx or Crota or the Black Garden or how we did what no one else could.  And we did it with no plan and 3 to six other insane guardians with annoying, uptight ghosts.  To her, we’re just a guardian with a ghost that has a stick up its USB port.  Weird, right?  We’re Iron Lords for crying out loud!  Young Wolves. Bounty Hunters for the Reef Queen.  Prison of Elder gaolers.  Emissaries of the Cult of Osiris and now the Nine.  Oh, and some of us are Faction Heralds.  Standard Bearers for Dead Orbit, Future War Cult or New Monarchy.  If you got the exotic class item from DO, FWC or NM in D1, youse a Herald and Standard Bearer.

Is there ever mention of this?  Nope.

4)  The Hive finally gets snipers/sharpshooters and shield-wielding swordsman.  Both of which seem like obvious no-brainers to have always been incorporated.  Except!   That goes against the Sword Logic. So, sincerely, you get a plus for adding them to the heretical, “cowardly” faction of the Hive. 

Question for you, though. Why would you knowingly (God, I hope it was knowingly) honor previous canon in this instance, but not with others? Like, where Xol is concerned?  Or the Deep/Fundament? Or Rasputin? Why the cherry picking?

5)  Why even bother naming yellow-bar area and mission bosses or units if you won’t bother explaining who they are, what they do and what they want?   Because, I honestly, lost interest in reading the named enemies once I realized there was no information about them in or out of the game.

From a Gameplay standpoint, it's what you’d expect from Destiny 2.  Up-tempoed action with moments of intensity and hopeful triumph.  If you play smartly, it rewards you. If you overextend yourself, prepare to get ganked.  Horribly. Progression is more inline with its predecessor, which might make the casuals pause.  Thankfully, it isn’t like Day 1, Vanilla Destiny, where it was impossible to reach Light Level Cap solo and without completing Raid/Nightfalls.  Except, no one would take you if you didn’t have G-horn or Icebreaker. Ah, the Good ol’ days of the Grind and the Loot Caves.  My point? The action is more reminiscent to that feel, just with all the current bells and whistles, which is a good thing.

Exotic weapons finally feel fucking worthwhile.  I played the whole Warmind Campaign with the combination of Sweet Business and Actium War Rig and I absolutely love it!  Add the Galliard-42 or the Kibou AR3 for some added fun and thrills. Pairing the Tractor Cannon with Sentinel is immensely satisfying.  That punk, Nokris didn’t stand a chance. And neither did his minions. Melts the opposition. Plus, its just really satisfying to watch 5 charging Knights (with sword and/or shield) get punted halfway across the room or into a wall or over a ledge.  I finally feel like how those damned Taken Phalanxes must feel. The Borealis is a fun choice, too. Although, I haven’t spent much time with it. The payoff for matching damage types and busting shields is well worth it.

The added cosmetic gear is neat.  My new favorite jumpship, hands down, is Currus Gloriae XLII.  As a Titan, having a spaceship that looks like it can go to war and do some damage is a welcomed plus.  The sparrow, Azure Azazyel looks really awesome. Even though it doesn’t have an interesting contrail effect, it still is fun to ride.  It feel like it belongs in Akira or Bladerunner and I dig it.  What I’ve seen from the new emblems, they’re decent.  

The updated effects of the new guns is much needed. Dragonfly on an autorifle?  Yes, please. Rampage on a Handcannon that you don’t have to grind for? I’ll take it.  The new Ghost shells are blase at best. The emote wheel is a nice touch, but seems a bit late.

Hoo boy, Override Frequencies and Memory Fragments.  Gotta hand it to you there, Bungie. I could not figure out how to get those until you unlocked them.  And those Fragments? I didn’t even figure out how to unlock them. Or I did, but it didn’t work?  Don’t try shooting them until after you unlock Hellas Basin.  Found that out by accident.  Thank you, random Guardian who was just shooting at a ledge!

So, like I said on the outset: Warmind, as an expansion is alright bordering on trash.  It is entirely redeemed in its Gameplay, but woefully drops the ball where the story is concerned.  Is it worth the $20? Eh. You’d probably still be better off waiting for the comet expansion to drop and for Bungie/Activision to repackage and re-release Destiny 2 this fall/winter.  There will be some that will find it a $20 well spent and others who won’t, who’ll swear off the franchise completely.  As for me? Its an investment. Like investing in Roseart and hoping they turn into Crayola. One day, they just might.

[soft-butch-cassidy]

i’ve finished warmind already. thoughts under cut

campaign itself was..... kind of disappointing. i mean, i finished it in like, two and a half hours? and half of that was spent just exploring and fucking around and messing with new emotes and picking up my friend every time she died. and it didn’t really... give us... more? theres nothing THAT new, and the characters were so disappointing. Like, why was Zavala so against Rasputin, but caved when Xol showed his ugly worm face? That could have been great character for Zavala! have him get upset, not just “you’re not supposed to be here” and all that junk. Have him say something like, “I’ve been pleading for help from every higher power and greater being since the day my Ghost found me, and none of them have responded. Why would Rasputin do anything for us now, after leaving us all to suffer and die?” Like! have him express betrayal! whats with the whole “vanguard treating him like a primitive weapon” thing?? tf?? no character ever treated Rasputin as less than a terrifying, sleeping god of an artificial intelligence in complete control of a massive, galaxy-wide arsenal of superweapons. not in either game. 

and ana... love her. she’s great. lovely, incredible. but god i wish they did her better! she’s a fucking legend! her legacy deserves more than “reminds me of my gunslinger days” and “we couldve used a guardian like you at twilight gap” come ON!!! her Light was so powerful, so intense, that wherever she used her golden gun, pools of Light formed permanently on the ground around the walls in the battlefield. and then she just vanished. she should have had more explanation on who she was. osiris got as much. a powerful warlock exploring the taboo, so obsessed with the vex that he hurt people, got himself ostracized and exiled, amassing a cult following with his research and radical ideology questioning their very existence. they talked about all this in game! why didnt they give ana the same? ghost, learning that the ana bray was alive after all? explaining who she was with awe, apologizing for his haughtiness in their initial conversation? they did her dirty.

and im still confused about xol. how did they know? how did zavala know? sure, the hive, pretty obvious, but like. how did they know it was a worm god hidden under the ice? there could have been a whole mission with us going through the bray facility uncovering data from before the collapse and finding out they flashfroze around the warmind in an attempt to kill/imprison xol and nokris, and some big cool reveal of that information? even having ana say “ive got a hunch, but we need concrete proof before we do anything too risky yet” or something. the worm gods and the hive have been our biggest, scariest threat, directly serving the darkness, our greatest enemy. there could have been something with eris, or with toland, or something! 

and the facility is “clovis bray exoscience” which implies that there’s something about exos. but nope! all our hopes for lore about exos, totally dashed. i was really hoping, and so were a lot of us, that maybe, just maybe, we’d get something. anything. 

but after all that. the post-game stuff? the collectables, the new weapons, the special quest locked gear? it’s a LOT of fun! i’ve got the seraph hand cannon (which i LOVE its very satisfying to use and looks awesome), i’ve unlocked my first... little singing box thing with the override key. some other cool shit. it seems like a lot, and way more in depth and unique compared to the drag of prophecy weapons! protocol is SUPER hard but really cool! and fun! i love the swords, and i LOVE valkyrie, and i love the return of warsat public events. and the emotes are all great!

[chiaroscuro-life]

remembering my mother as a sea creature

The Highlands near Skye were bitterly cold in February. Winter there had always been miserable, high and frigid over a sparse wasteland of rocks and dead grass. Pap used to say that the yowling wind was really the keening call of the black-as-death Cat Sith, trying to lure you out into the snow. You would go out searching for the poor lost kit in the blizzard and it would wait until you died from the cold so it could slink up, dark but for the white beat on its chest, and steal your soul as it left you.

Pap was a hardened man on the outside, rough-handed and browned from his toil at sea. He sailed from port to port through the East side of the Hebrides, setting nets for the hundreds of fisheries encrusting them. He would say that if the nets he cast did not have holes, he'd have scooped out all of the ocean by now. Over a warm cup of tea, he never ran out of stories to tell, of monsters and mythological fauna that stalked the mountains. His eyes flashed in the firelight as he spun his tales, chin blue with stubble moving in constant recount.

"My Uncle Kieran saw the Cat Sith once," he always said as he disappeared behind a cloud of acrid brown smoke from his pipe. "He was the only one to ever see it and escape the curse."

"The curse?"

I never found out the curse of the Cat Sith, because at that point Mum came in and knocked his cap off his head with the tattered dish towel she always seemed to carry. "Hush, up, now, Finny," she scolded, "or she won’t likely fall asleep again until next winter!”

Mum wasn't a beautiful woman by any stretch of the imagination, but I loved her all the same. She was taller than Pap, long and thin like the tufted hair-grass growing all over the countryside. She laughed like a braying donkey, baring her greying teeth and tossing her head back in wild abandon. Her hands were small and knotted, as rough as Pap's and never still. They were never empty. She always said that God graced us with the gift of hands so they may roam all over the earth and touch all that had been left for us. So I ran my fingers through her dry hair as she patched quilts, washed clothes, sometimes when she only had a single piece of twine she turned over and over.

"Your Mum was born at sea," Pap said, making sure she was in earshot. "That's why her hair is so light. The salt dried it near clean out of her head in the summertime."

"Come off it, you old sailor!" came her laughing reproach from the kitchen.

I loved hearing their story over and over again. Pap never tired of telling how he and Mum first met. Every time, the story changed in some small way, more splendid than the last. On days he felt loving towards her, Mum became a mermaid from the farthest stretch of Atlantis, all shells and pearls and shimmering fins. On days they tired of each other, she became a brown shore crab hidden among the boulders, pinching anyone who dared poke their fingers close enough. But still, he fell in love with her every single time. Today he sat in the living room in the armchair by the window, staring out over the water as he chewed on his pipe. It was one of those quiet afternoons when the clouds huddled around the sun and sat over the shore, soft and palpable as rabbit pelts, and the shore seals nestled in the warmer spots around the boulders. Mum lay resting in the bedroom and I sat by Pap, sifting through hundreds of shells and bits of sea glass he had collected since before I was born. I knew all of my favorites by heart, but they always seemed to surprise me in ways I’d never known. I found the largest one of all, a white conch with a deep blush inside, worn smooth from the waves, and held it up to the window. Pap looked over at me.

“I found that one the very day I met your Mum,” he said.

“You said she brought it up from the underwater palace where all the mermaids live.”

He leaned forward, eyes flashing. “Oh, did I, Helen? I must have been mistaken. No, your Mum is a selkie. She didn’t live in an ocean palace. The mermaids and selkies didn’t get on too well, so the selkies took to land and the mermaids took to sea. They had great stone caves, far mightier than any castle ever seen.”

"What's a selkie, pap?"

He smiled wistfully. "They're rare, them," he sighed, and sat back. "I only ever met one of them, and that was your Mam. They're seal-people, see. Men and women that live in seal skins and keep to the darker waters of the North. They sleep in the caves by day, and when dusk comes, they work some sort of white magic and walk these beaches as the loveliest people you ever saw. They shed their seal skins, just jump out of them and hide them there in the water, and come creeping out of the sea to explore the human world. They bring good luck to the houses they touch. Every sailor boy in town wanted a selkie for a wife, strong, young women with the darkest eyes. They said if you stole a selkie's skin when she wasn't looking, she became your wife for as long as you kept it.”

Ever since I was little, I have always been enthralled with the seals that would come up to the beach during the summer and lay on the sand, dozens of them in scarred brown pods. Their barking was so amazing and deep and strange that I would join them from behind the kitchen window, yelping at the ocean. Pap teases me relentlessly about it now. I wonder if he’s thinking about that, too, as he sits and talks and talks from behind his pipe.

"A selkie will come for a human only if he visits the ocean with his deepest, darkest wish in his heart. The lads from my old freighter days told me so. He had to go to the beach as soon as the sun touched the water, whisper his secret into a pink whelk filled with the whitest sand on the beach, and throw it as far as he could out to sea. If the wind was right, and by Jove did we all pray it was, it would blow your wish right into the hands of the selkie and, lo and behold, there she would appear right in front of you. Just like a wave had pushed her there.”

Pap was silent for a moment. The smoke from his pipe rose in gentle ropes around his head, and for a moment, they seemed to lap at him like sea foam.

“I made my wish at dusk and sat there on the beach. See out there? On that little outcrop on that boulder? I sat right there for hours, waiting for your Mum to appear. Even when the sun was completely gone and nothing could be heard but water. I fell asleep out there, and mind you, the wind gets cold at night-time. You remember the time I took you to Brynn’s port? The wind was worse than that, I promise you. Like a thousand frozen breaths. Soon, morning came, and you know what I found? Someone had come in the night and laid the finest, heaviest seal coat on me as I slept. Rich stuff, I tell you. The deepest brown and softer than heather. When I sat up and looked around, there sat your Mam on the sand, water as clear as ever and staring at me with her big, black eyes. Next thing I know, I married her and here we are now.”

I didn’t say anything, just rolled the whelk between my fingers as I leaned into Pap’s legs. He turned his head to stare out the window again. “When a man goes searching in the ocean, he never stops finding things, Helen.” He smiles and ruffles my hair. “My seal girls.”

It was a strange symbiosis that Mam seemed to have with the ocean. The sea seemed to follow them both, riding on Pap’s boots and clothes and hair, Mam reeking of salt every time she walked by. The storms brought sand to the front step, a fine sugar dusting everything left unattended. In the mornings, the fine grit of it crunched underfoot and no matter how much Mam swept, it never seemed to go away. I came to think of the ocean as a newborn baby, the way it wormed itself into our lives. It cried for attention, the spray making the air cold and heavy. When the gales blew hard, the sound of it whistling and screaming against the water made faint wailing noises resembling the mewling of a hungry infant. It greedily nursed at the sand bar, spitting up thousands of white shells that littered the beach like dead stars.

Above all things, my Mum was a strange woman. In the morning before Pap left on the trawler for port, I caught sight of her out there in the water, wearing nothing but her dressing gown and a worn pair of boots from the shed, letting the water whip the snow around her legs, her hair wild and unkempt as a ship’s flag.

The way her dress billowed around her, I was afraid she would lift straight off the ground and sail away. Back into her ocean, riding the water into a distant cave untouched by man to comb her hair with corals and forget everything she's left on shore. I loved my Mum too much, too much to trust her to stay with us on land forever.

[goldiecox34]

Macabre Melodies...Haunted harmonics...Creepy crescendos...

A lotta alliteration

It's an alternative Halloween playlist! 👻

 I often describe myself as a plainclothes Goth. I know the ennui, I feel the gloom, it’s just that I’ve opted for a slightly lower maintenance wardrobe. As such, I await the arrival of autumn’s mellow fruitfulness and accompanying mists each year with considerable anticipation. The russet foliage and plummeting temperatures signalling clearly that Halloween is almost upon us.

Yes, Halloween, that absurdist, heavily corporatised pagan harvest festival we all know and love. A time of year when it’s traditionally said that the gap between the realms of the dead and the living narrows to its thinnest slither and, in more contemporary terms, the time when both children and adults can express their inner ghoul, indulging their lust for macabre theatrics and processed sugars.

Yet, no matter how shallow and materialistic the holiday becomes, Halloween will always have a place in my heart. The moonlit boozing, extravagant costumes, the preponderance of men in eye liner, the unbridled freedom of expression, all happening ‘neath an acrid cloud of classic Goth tracks and other dark, synth driven ballads of an 1980’s vintage.    Songs like Echo and the Bunnymen’s ‘Killing Moon’, Siouxie’s 'Spellbound’… or almost anything by the Cure, all heavy scented with incense and festooned in cobwebs and romance.

  But can we expand the typical Halloween playlist beyond Goth, New Wave and the occasional blast of the Monster Mash? I attest that there are unexpectedly ghoulish numbers in almost every genre!

Below are 10 of my picks for your perusal!

1. Maud Gone - Car Seat Headrest.   With its dusty organ shuffle, love sick lyrics and hollow, reverb drenched vocals this track comes off as a haunted slow dance at a zombie prom. 'I know there’s a full moon every night, and when I dress in black it snows white’ https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7E-h7j32uSk 2. Angie Baby -Helen Reddy   This number may come off about as 70’s smooth and sickly sweet as a bowl of butterscotch Angel Delight but don’t be fooled, the dated orchestrations belie a seriously creepy tale of a mentally challenged girl who may not be quite as sweet and defenceless as we think…  'It’s so nice to be insane… No one asks you to explain’ https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=u8mGsis9nNo

3. Stinking Cloud - Thee Oh Sees  There are quite literally dozens of Thee Oh Sees tracks eligible for this list based on creepy title points alone… but the charmingly named ‘Stinking Cloud’ wins out for me with its fatalistic message hidden in its carnivalesque arrangement and demented sing song melody. 'But it’s dead, dead, dead to the top of its head… But we’re dead, dead, dead as I’ve already said…’     Okay think we’re getting the picture mate… https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PRRaTHVvR_Y 4. Tenebre remix 1982 - Goblin  As the indisputable Kings of the 1970’s horror sound track, no Halloween play list would be complete without throwing a track by Italian Prog creepers, Goblin in the mix.

Tenebre is a demonic floor filler, as terrifying as it is funky!

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=s_aejM_HEy0

5. Down by the River - PJ Harvey  This slinky number released in 1995 rides a lazy river of soft distortion and slithering strings that sound somewhere between sumptuous and nauseating.

The songs catching tune lures us in as Peej recounts a charming tale of infanticide by drowning. 'Little fish big fish swimming in the water’ 'Come back here man give me my daughter’ https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=lbq4G1TjKYg 6. Long pig. Perfume genius  With a synth line straight out of the Dawn of the Dead series, Perfume Genius beckons us into some disquieting territory on Long Pig (reportedly a Maori term for human flesh, just FYI).

His fey boyish voice repeating the baffling phrase: 'Long pig We buried the meat for Mama’ https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=14b8dVUdgCE

7. Get out of my House! -Kate Bush  The final track from Kate’s experimental and somewhat inaccessible 4th album sees an increasing desperate woman try to defend her house from unknown demonic intruders.  The drama takes place over a din of slamming doors as Kate’s plainly mental vocal lines overlap and compete with one another for space as she plays every character in the tale herself, including but not limited to the terrified protagonist, the would be intruder, a French concierge and possibly the house itself!?

Things come to a head when she starts to aggressively bray like a possessed donkey…

Enough said! https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=aMDgvxbsvPw 8. Dark night of the Soul - Sparklehorse feat David Lynch As horrifying a sonic result as you’d expect from the meeting of Mark Linkous’ and David Lynch’s beautifully cracked minds! https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wbtUAlFN8po

9. Excitable boy - Warren Zevon Yes… Zevon’s track 'Werewolves of London’ may seem a more obvious choice for the season, but I try my best not to do obvious.  'Excitable boy’ the tale of a dangerous psychopath whose deranged and violent behaviour is continually ignored and put down to 'boys will be boys’ hijinx.  The track’s pitch black humour and ear worm melody make this a Halloween classic you didn’t know you needed in your life. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4-pexSVWzM

10. A Night Like This -The Cure.  Okay enough of my bullshit… Time at last for an actual classic. The Cure’s ’ 'A Night Like This’ is for my money one of the greatest songs of the eighties. Swooning, dark and velvety not to mention stuffed to the gills with melodrama and romantic tension.

I can think of no better song to sum up the peculiar beauty of Halloween!  'It goes dark It goes darker still…’ https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=KE1nu67-U2I

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