#legitimately did not expect my nickname for her to be TAKEN AND RUN WITH

[skellebonez]

YOU NAMED HER BAI HE?!?!

YEP, I NAMED HER BAI HE.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Billy Loomis

(Not my gif)(Requested by @loodloottoot)

- You met Billy when the two of you ended up in the same class. He noticed you while looking around the room and was immediately taken with you.

- All throughout class, he kept sneaking glances at you, barely paying attention to the teacher as they talked. When the bell rung, he sat back in his seat and watched you leave, deciding that he had to have you right then and there.

- He starts out by doing the typical ‘I have a crush on you’ secret staring and learning more about you; most likely through Stu or by listening in on your conversations. He wants to make sure that you’re the one for him before he shoots his shot; he’s artful when picking people that he actually wants to date, there’s more steps involved.

- Once he’s gathered enough data on you, he’ll sit next to you in class, lean over, and introduce himself with a charming smile. You introduce yourself back; most likely a little flustered by the sudden attention, and then class will start, ending your potential conversation.

- He tries to talk with you all week but his plans are always foiled by something or someone. One of you will show up to class too late, someone will take the seat next to yours, you’ll be busy talking to a friend, someone will distract him and you’ll disappear; and so on. It frustrates him more than he cares to admit.

- Finally, he figures that he has to work a little bit harder so he strategically waits outside of the school with some of his friends. I say strategically because he made sure he had a perfect view of the doors everyone leaves out of when classes end.

- The instant he spots you, he excuses himself and jogs over, greeting you and asking what you’re planning on doing after school. The two of you strike up a bit of a conversation before you’re forced to say goodbye and board your bus. It may seem anticlimactic but to him, it’s a crucial point in your budding relationship.

- After that, he just seems to keep popping up wherever you are; in school at least. Unbeknownst to you, it’s not exactly a coincidence.

- The two of you form a bit of a friendship, and why wouldn’t you? He’s charismatic, fun to talk to, isn’t put off by anything, and pleasantly reserved so it feels like you’re special because he chooses to speak “with you of all people”. If you’re shy then congratulations, you’ve found the one person who is tactfully persistent enough to break down your walls.

- It’s probably a few months before anything of value happens, besides being integrated into his friend group and telling each other some of the things you usually don’t tell people.

- One day, while the two of you are walking to class, he asks if you like horror movies movies. When you ask him why, he tells you that he’s renting a few films and was wondering if you wanted to join him for a bit of a marathon.

- It’s sounds so casual that you’re sure he just wants to hang out as friends, but regardless, you agree.

- So you get to his house and the two of you are sat on his couch, some gorefest horror movie that he chose to watch playing on the tv. He excuses himself to go get a drink and when he comes back, he sits down beside you again although this time much closer than before.

- You try not to think any of it, even as his arm wraps around the back of the couch behind you. Well, you don’t think anything of it until you can feel his hand on your shoulder, fingers tracing shapes against the skin of your arm.

- You aren’t sure what to do, so you don’t do anything, staying perfectly still as you struggle to breathe properly, a flustered heat coursing through you. The two of you sit like that for a few long moments before he slowly pulls you into him and speaks.

“Y/n,” he says your name quietly, his voice deep. He pauses and waits for you to respond which you do so with a nervous hum. “I like you a lot. You know that, don’t you?”

“I like you too, Billy.” you respond in a near whisper, eyes focused on your lap.

“Good.” He whispers back, pressing his lips to your hot cheek as his hand finds the side of your face and he pulls you into a kiss.

- Lets hope that you’re sure about being with him because now that he has you, he certainly isn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

- Constant Pda. He likes having his hands on you at all times; it’s just a bonus that it shows everyone in the general vicinity “who you belong to”.

- Gentle forehead and cheek kisses.

- Hugs from behind where he nuzzles his face into your hair and jaw.

- Long makeout sessions. Once you start, he never wants to stop.

- Getting late night visits/sneaking out to see him. He shows up at your window pretty much whenever he feels like and has subsequently gotten very skilled at climbing up the side of your house.

- His favorite nickname for you is “sweetheart”. He just feels like it suits you and likes the little smile you get on your face when he calls you it.

- Cuddling? Billy would never admit it to anyone but he absolutely loves it. Oftentimes, he’s the big spoon, but he can’t deny that he loves it when you cradle him into your chest, especially when he’s tired or having a rough day.

- He lounges whenever he can so expect to be laid/leaned on, or to have him maneuver himself so that he’s laid back yet still has you close to or touching him.

- Long and deep conversations. The two of you experience existential crises together.

- You’re going to be around Stu a lot. The two of them are constantly hanging out so you and him are; most likely, going to be close as well.

- Sharing food with each other.

- Hanging out at the fountain.

- Horror movie dates.

- Constant movie references, quotes, and random facts.

- A Fall slut through and through. Falling leaves? Sexy. Pumpkins? Hot. Anything spooky? Orgasmic. He usually goes ape shit during holidays but during the fall, he goes ape shit for a whole season.

- He has a wonderful skill of popping up at the “right” times. You seem to constantly run into him and you aren’t sure if it’s really a coincidence or not.

- Random phone calls. Sometimes he plays around with you, other times he gets straight to the point.

- Back massages. He lets out these little moan like noises which make it really hard to think straight as you’re trying to innocently rub his back.

- Hand holding.

- Playing with each other’s hair. You’re constantly brushing his out of his eyes.

- He toys around with your things, either while he’s bored or to make you laugh, or just to fidget with something while you talk.

- He loves hearing you laugh and seeing you smile. He feels accomplished whenever it’s because of him, like he’s done something revolutionary.

- His fathers rarely home so you usually have the house to yourselves. He likes the privacy, being able to do whatever you please with no interruptions. It’s the teenage dream, isn’t it?

- Wearing his shirts, especially when you sleep over at his house.

- Surprisingly sensitive about certain things and somewhat easily offended. He takes you not wanting to touch, see, or be seen with him very personally, even if there’s a legitimate reason behind it.

- Weirdly enough though, he’s got a really high pain tolerance. He’s a trooper when he gets hurt and always amazes you with how little he reacts. He once sliced his hand open when the two of you were together and while you were wrapping something around the wound, all he did was let out a little “ow” and chuckle at you.

- He’s a bit reserved; he’s not a huge social butterfly so he prefers just hanging out with you and a few close friends. He’s friendly when he has to be, he just doesn’t really like talking to people he doesn’t know/know very well or being in huge crowds.

- He loves just watching you. He could look at your face for the rest of his life; all day, everyday, and still never get tired of seeing it.

- Intimate eye contact. There’s so much emotion behind his eyes when they meet yours. He could make you flustered with a single look.

- He never pushes you to do anything you don’t want to. He does such evil things most of the time, it’s nice to be seen as “the good guy” and to treat someone he cares about with respect.

- He’s a cunning bastard. If you need something done, he’ll find a way to do it. And if he needs something done, then he’ll find a way too and it may or may not involve you.

- Growing suspicious of him and his absences or the little odd things that just don’t add up. You swear he’s hiding something....

- He hangs back and waits for you when you want to go do something quick, like ask someone something or drop something off somewhere. It doesn’t ever annoy him; he likes being able to know what you’re doing.

- He’s definitely a bit overprotective and clingy at times. He’s got some deep rooted abandonment issues so he wants to make sure you’re not going anywhere or somehow going to get hurt and have to leave him because of it.

- He’s quick to interrupt when he can tell you’re uncomfortable and insults/scolds people when they upset you.

- He yearns for that motherly role in his life so he snaps at the chance to get it from your own mother when the two of you begin dating. It’s certainly a bit odd when you find him and her hanging out in your kitchen or how quick he is to agree to joining you on family outings/activities when you’re about to decline, but you are happy that he’s getting the very thing that he seems to need.

- Later in your relationship, he’ll open up to you more and tell you about his family life/ everything that goes on in his head. Just be patient because it’ll take him a while to completely trust you with everything.

- He’d rather cut off his own dick then cheat on you. He sees it as the ultimate sin, the worst thing you could ever do to a person ...besides abandon them.

- He has a mean streak when it comes to jealousy. He can’t stand the thought of you; his girl, with someone else or having someone else like you. He’s threatened and/or glared people down before if he’s thought they had a thing for you.

- Sensitive subjects really aren’t his strong suit. He always seems to say the wrong thing whenever he’s faced with them and it’s caused more than a few fights/arguments between the two of you.

- He gets angry when he’s angry, if that makes sense, although it really depends on what’s making him upset. He can either stay very calm or start rioting like a maniac, it’s really like flipping a coin with him. He does tend to flip out on other people rather than you though, so that’s good, right?

- He apologizes when he’s in the wrong and never expects you to if you aren’t. He also has a particular talent for worming his way back into your heart after he’s royally pissed you off.

- He doesn’t tell you he loves you constantly but he says it at the right moments so the words have a lot of meaning whenever he says them.

- Like I said, he doesn’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. You’re the one for him and he’s going to keep you with him for as long as he can.

[ibijau]

chap 2 of the modern xisangyao, also on AO3

Against his better judgement, Meng Yao finds himself quite charmed by the too handsome researcher who wants to meet his employer

Mister Shanzi will be unhappy when he discovers that Meng Yao has agreed to meet with a researcher without first consulting him, but he is simply too curious. It is so odd for anyone to be so interested in that obscure painter, and so desperate to see more of his work. Of course, Mister Shanzi himself holds a clear interest in Nie Huaisang, one that he has unwillingly transmitted to Meng Yao… But mister Shanzi is an odd man, and ordinary people cannot be compared to him. 

For this reason, Meng Yao's first instinct upon being contacted by Lan Xichen had been suspicion. Mister Shanzi has his enemies, as Meng Yao knows well, and they try to act clever sometimes. 

His second instinct, after a quick internet search, had been amusement. Surely nobody expected him to believe that this man, handsome enough to play the lead in a drama, was a mere university teacher. 

A more thorough search had confirmed it though. Meng Yao knew enough about running a con to spot modified photos and fake credentials, and he had found none of that. Digging further, Lan Xichen appeared in the background of photos and was referenced here and there on relatives' social media, with no incoherence to the presentation he'd given in his email. 

So Meng Yao had found himself intrigued, and offered to meet and chat. 

A decision he half regrets now, because somehow, Lan Xichen is even more handsome in person. He is, in fact, the single most beautiful person that Meng Yao has seen in his life, easily outranking mister Shanzi who had reigned there supreme since the day Meng Yao met him during a con gone wrong. 

"I am so glad you offered to meet me," Lan Xichen says with a warm smile. "I am really sorry that I was so insistent, but it is so rare for several of Nie Huaisang’s works to be in a single place."

“I understand,” Meng Yao replies, trying to match the warmth of that smile when he can’t help being a little dazzled by that handsome stranger. “Though at the moment, my employer is a little wary of showing any of those paintings in his possession until he has inspected them all again. It is very embarrassing that several fakes fooled him, and mister Shanzi wants to restore his reputation. He is still getting used to modern technology, and how much it has changed the art market in recent decades.”

Mostly, mister Shanzi complains a lot on the matter, and keeps saying he’s going to have to change career soon. Apparently, back in the days, it was much easier to sell a decent fake as long as you also sold enough real things. But now with age testing of the paper and analysis of the ink, it’s nearly impossible to do a good enough job.

Of course mister Shanzi could quite easily make as much money only selling legitimate art, he has the connections, the collection, and impeccable taste. So Meng Yao suspects it’s not just about money, and more about the twisted joy of deceiving others. He can't fault him for that.

“Yes, that makes sense,” Lan Xichen sighs. “I was fooled as well, so I understand the feeling. It’s so disappointing, but not unexpected. Nie Huaisang attracts forgers like no other artists.”

Meng Yao nods sympathetically. He’s heard mister Shanzi boast that well over half of Nie Huaisang’s paintings in circulation are copies he made himself, and perfectly undetectable unless one runs those ‘damn new tests’ on them.

“If I may be so bold, why the interest in that particular painter?” Meng Yao asks. “Surely you could have found someone less complicated to study.”

Rather than to answer immediately, Lan Xichen considers the question. He takes a sip of tea with more elegance than this café deserves, and Meng Yao is struck once more with the idea that this man should be acting in drama, not writing essays nobody will ever read. It’s easy to imagine Lan Xichen playing the role of a noble prince, or even a god. 

“He’s just a fascinating character I suppose,” Lan Xichen says at last. “Outside of his art, we know so little about him. We don’t even know his real name.”

“What?”

Lan Xichen smiles, clearly very pleased to have gotten that reaction.

“He wasn’t born Nie Huaisang,” he explains. “That’s only his courtesy name. You see, he belonged to that… well, they called themselves a sect, though at the end of the day they were closer to nobility, with the same inheritance problems and power struggles. Still, Qinghe Nie held a number of beliefs, and one of them was that the birth name of its members had to be kept a complete secret… and Nie Huaisang is among those who succeeded at obeying that rule. So we don’t know his name, we don’t know his date of birth, and we don’t know how he died or when.”

“Is there anything that is known about him?” Meng Yao teases, more endeared and intrigued than he would care to admit.

Lan Xichen must notice, because he smiles again, as if delighted to have found someone willing to listen to his impromptu lecture.

“We know he was raised by his brother because their father died when they were young,” Lan Xichen says. “Well, half-brother. Nie Huaisang was the child of a concubine, or even of a servant. His father recognised him, but his legitimacy was called in question a few times. We know he survived a local insurrection nicknamed the Sunshot Campaign, though it’s unclear if he was old enough to have taken part in any fighting. His brother did though, with great success, but died without heirs a few years later and Nie Huaisang found himself in charge of a fief.”

He pauses there, his expression turning sadder, as if he were talking of a personal friend rather than a long dead man. Meng Yao finds it ridiculous and a little endearing.

“A few anecdotes from the lives of contemporaries tell us that he must have had a rough time at first,” Lan Xichen continues, “and he was suspected for a while of being implicated in the murder of the head of the Jin clan, but nothing ever came out of that. He’s just thirty at that point, still fairly young, and he lives on for another fifty, maybe sixty years… and we don’t know anything about what he does during that time. Nobody really talks about Qinghe Nie again until his successor rises to power and brings the clan back into the political sphere. Nie Huaisang’s life is a mystery. What little we think we know comes from the few poems he left, and whatever clues we can gather from his numerous paintings. Isn’t that fascinating?”

What’s fascinating, Meng Yao thinks, is the way Lan Xichen’s eyes light up when talking about something he’s passionate about. If it’s an act, then it’s an excellent one… but Meng Yao finds himself hoping that it’s sincere, that Lan Xichen really is just an odd man who is apparently half in love with a painter who died a millennium and a half ago.

There is no way that mister Shanzi would ever let anyone see his private collection. Even Meng Yao is barely allowed to go to his employer’s house, to avoid attracting attention to the place. Lan Xichen’s request is never going to be granted.

But it has been a long while since Meng Yao has been so intrigued by someone, not since first meeting mister Shanzi in fact. And mister Shanzi, in spite of the mutual attraction that Meng Yao knows to be there, has made it quite clear that he isn’t interested in anything but a professional relationship. Meng Yao has satisfied himself with that so far, because his life really is pretty good as it currently is, but Lan Xichen changes that. Surely there’s no harm in pretending that there’s a chance he might get to see the painting, at least until Meng Yao can decide if that too handsome man is trustworthy or not, dateworthy or not…

“It does sound interesting,” Meng Yao admits. “I’m sure mister Shanzi would…”

His phone starts vibrating, interrupting him. Meng Yao can’t help a slight frown, which turns to a deeper one when he sees the message he’s just received.

“Well, I have to go,” he sighs. “I’m really sorry. But… mister Lan, if I may be so bold, would you agree to exchanging numbers? That way we can continue talking about this more easily.”

“Yes, of course,” Lan Xichen replies. There is a trace of pink on his cheeks as he takes out his own phone, which Meng Yao finds both very fetching and rather encouraging.

He’ll have to be careful, this could be a trap, Lan Xichen might be an excellent actor, part of a team skilled enough to have fooled Meng Yao, but… but he might not be, too, and it would be a shame to miss this chance.

After having exchanged numbers and promised to be in touch soon, Meng Yao quickly heads home. He lives on the edges of the city, in a building that already looked ancient when he was a kid. Today’s a good day, because the lift is, in fact, actually working for once.

Upon getting to his floor, Meng Yao goes to knock on the door next to his. It opens nearly immediately.

“Meng Yao, you’re saving my life,” the young woman who lives there greets him. “I’m really sorry, I’ve tried everyone else, but I’ve been called in for an extra shift and I need the money so bad, I’ve had to buy her new shoes this month, and…”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all.”

His neighbour thanks him again, and rushes inside. She’s back quickly, her daughter in her arms. The child nearly throws herself at Meng Yao, and her mother runs off to work, leaving them alone.

“Well, Beastie, it’s just you and me,” Meng Yao says, walking to his door. “What are we going to do tonight?”

“Watch fighting movies! Eat candies!”

“And what will we tell mama we did?”

“Watch documentaries and eat greens and I went to bed and I was good!” The little girl roars.

Meng Yao laughs, and puts her down while he unlocks his door. Beastie runs inside to check the tv, while Meng Yao makes sure they actually have something to eat. He tries to keep his fridge full and his cabinet fuller, especially since Beastie has become a regular at his place. Her mother is a hard working girl who, like Meng Yao’s mother, got pregnant too young from a man who didn’t stick around. He used to babysit Beastie for extra cash before meeting mister Shanzi, and for some reason he never really stopped, even if he refuses to take money for it now. He just likes Beastie and her mom, and he remembers how much his own mother used to rely on neighbours too, whenever things became rough.

As Beastie and him settle down for the night, ready to watch one of those cheesy, over the top old kung-fu movies that they both love, Meng Yao gets a text from Lan Xichen, thanking him again for meeting him. After only the briefest of hesitations, Meng Yao quickly answers that he’s sorry he had to leave so fast, because he loved chatting with Lan Xichen. This prompts another text from the handsome teacher, to which Meng Yao replies as well.

His phone doesn’t stop buzzing all nigh, and Meng Yao doesn't stop smiling. 

-

In the days and weeks that follow, Meng Yao and Lan Xichen manage to meet in person a few more times, and text nearly constantly. At their second meeting they’re still pretending that this is only about Lan Xichen’s research, but by the third one they start openly chatting about other things.

Lan Xichen is very open about his life, and everything he says fits with what Meng Yao had found during his initial investigation. He has a little brother nearly fifteen years younger than him who lives with him, he enjoys teaching and researching equally, he has a pet rabbit called Liebing he dotes on, he can’t handle spice at all, he has, in fact, been asked more than once if he was interested in a modelling or acting career but always refused because academia is his calling.

Meng Yao is more careful with the information he shares. He admits to having worked for mister Shanzi for nearly five years, but doesn’t elaborate on how they meet because that's not a story for honest people. He confesses he didn’t have any particular interest in art until taking the job, though he has tried to educate himself on the subject since then (Lan Xichen offers to go to a museum together someday, and to his own surprise, Meng Yao agrees). He doesn’t have pets, but he does have Beastie and he’s pretty sure that counts.

The way Lan Xichen’s eyes go soft over that… it does things to Meng Yao’s poor heart.

As does almost everything Lan Xichen does or says, in fact.

Meng Yao is half appalled at himself for how fast he’s falling for Lan Xichen. He tries to resist it, tries to be reasonable, but Lan Xichen just has to smile the right way, and Meng Yao’s heart flutters in his chest. He feels like a teenager with a crush.

He starts thinking like one, too.

Ever since meeting mister Shanzi, Meng Yao has been loyal to his employer. There is something about the man that demands it, and though he has never made threats of any sorts, Meng Yao can feel that mister Shanzi is not a man who takes kindly to betrayal.

And yet, it would be so easy to arrange for Lan Xichen to come to mister Shanzi’s home without his knowledge. Meng Yao is in charge of his employer’s schedule, so he knows where he is at any given time. He also has the keys to that isolated house in the middle of nowhere. It would be so easy, and Meng Yao has never been too good at resisting temptation.

At this point, he knows that if he tells Lan Xichen he won't see the paintings, the other man will be disappointed but will ask if they can keep seeing each other anyway. This isn't about finding a way to keep his attention: Meng Yao knows he has it already. 

It's about Meng Yao guessing how happy Lan Xichen will be to see those paintings, and deciding surely that's worth the risk. 

That’s how Meng Yao and Lan Xichen find themselves in a car one day, heading out of the city together. Meng Yao feels his skin buzzing with nerves, though every time he takes his eyes from the road to glance at Lan Xichen and finds him glowing and as excited as a child, he knows it was the right choice. It takes them a few hours to get to the house, which they spend chatting about a number of things. About midway through the trip, when they take a break, Meng Yao announces that due to a last minute problem, mister Shanzi won’t be able to meet them at the house, but welcomes them to check the paintings without him. Lan Xichen is of course disappointed and offers to try again another time, but Meng Yao convinces him it’s more convenient to go that day.

The house, hidden in a bamboo forest, takes Lan Xichen’s breath away when he discovers it, just as it did for Meng Yao the first time. It’s not particularly big or extravagant, but there’s something about it that makes Meng Yao’s heart ache every time he sees it, as if he’s known it before. It’s ridiculous, of course. He’d never really left the city before starting to work for mister Shanzi.

“It looks like home,” Lan Xichen whispers as he exits the car.

“Does your family have a place like that?”

Lan Xichen frowns, and shakes his head. “No, not at all. But it still feels like home. I can’t explain why… Ah, don’t mind me. Let’s just go inside.”

Meng Yao hides a smile and goes to open the door. In truth, he’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Mister Shanzi has no reason to be back from his trip until tomorrow, but Meng Yao won’t feel safe until they’ve left. It really is stupid to have come here at all, and even Lan Xichen’s happiness is starting to not feel worth the risk.

The house is quiet when they go in, and a little cold, making them shiver. It’s always fresh in there, which Meng Yao assumes is why mister Shanzi has taken to calling his home the Hanshi. 

“It’s not a very welcoming name for a home,” Lan Xichen says as he looks around, sounding a little distracted.

“It’s not much of a home anyway. He doesn’t live here most of the time,” Meng Yao explains as they head for the kitchen. “It has his private collection, a few personal belongings, and that’s it. He prefers to stay with friends or at hotels if he can. Check the fridge and you’ll see how bad it is.”

While Meng Yao pours himself a glass of water, Lan Xichen does check the fridge, and finds it predictably empty except for some forgotten leftovers. Sometimes, Meng Yao suspects that mister Shanzi doesn’t eat at all unless he has company.

After taking a moment to rest from the long trip, Meng Yao takes Lan Xichen toward the workshop in the basement, where he knows his employer usually keeps the best parts of his collection, fake and authentic paintings carefully divided according to a system he taught to Meng Yao.

It really feels more and more like a betrayal to be doing this, but Lan Xichen is glowing, and mister Shanzi will never know.

Meng Yao starts opening the door.

His blood turns to ice when he realises that there’s light inside the room.

He thinks, for a second, to stop and run away while he can, but it’s too late already. Lan Xichen would ask questions, and he wouldn’t like the answers. It could save him from also dealing with mister Shanzi’s fury at least, but even that won’t be afforded to him. When Meng Yao peaks inside, mister Shanzi’s swivel chair is turning toward the door, with mister Shanzi sitting crossed leg in it and looking curiously at the intruders.

It is painfully obvious that mister Shanzi isn’t expecting visitors. Instead of the polished outfits he favours in public, he’s wearing a pair of novelty boxers with emoji on them, and a hoodie two sizes too big with ink stains on the sleeves. His long hair isn’t in a neat braid, but in a messy bun held in place by some cheap chopsticks. In short, mister Shanzi doesn’t look like the refined young man he endeavours to be when he has to show his face somewhere, and more like a college student who has forgotten the taste of any food except instant noodle and energy drinks.

That impression is only made worse by the headphones he’s now lowering, and the game console on his lap. They must have caught him taking a break.

“Meng Yao, why are you…” mister Shanzi starts asking, unfolding his legs so he can stand up, only to interrupt himself when his gaze falls on Lan Xichen.

His hands start shaking, badly enough that his console falls from his grip and onto the floor, its screen cracking upon impact.

“You!” mister Shanzi gasps, eyes wide with terror.

[the-busy-ghost]

Could you tell us about something really wacky that happened between 1060-1570? Like, a bizarre land dispute or political incident?

Hi! Thank you for asking, and I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to respond. I’ve really been agonising over what the best story was to tell but in the end I’m afraid I had to just pick one I liked rather than one that was objectively the Wackiest.

Although I have to admit that this is quite a wide remit. Since everything comes down to land in the end, there are lots of disputes that could perhaps fit the bill- hell, even the entire history of Anglo-Scottish relations could be considered one huge bizarre dispute (there are even stretches along the border called the ‘Debatable Land’ because nobody could agree on who owned it, and the families who lived there often decided which country they were stealing from depending on who was in the ascendancy at the time). Then there’s just the shenanigans of the royal house for example (not least James III and his siblings, who were particularly Extra).

And yet despite this my mind goes absolutely blank when people ask me. I really wanted to give you several examples but it took me hundreds of words to type up one, so I’m afraid that will have to do for now. These cases can also get very violent so I didn’t want to pick one that was too obviously bloody, since that’s not always so entertaining. Indeed, personally, I prefer the little petty things that people did in the past that are lightly amusing, like one sixteenth century Scotswoman who allegedly tried to take back her consent to a contract by pulling her mark off the parchment with her thumb and then eating it, presumably to the horror of some poor notary; or the fact that several fourteenth century Douglases had really bad-ass nicknames like ‘the Grim’ but there was also one poor guy who is known as Hugh the Dull.

The best #Wacky disputes are often to do with control over church property- as in the case of the Earl of Cassilis allegedly ‘roasting’ the commendator of Crossraguel (although tbh the Kennedys were a very Extra family in general and there’s lots of weird stories about them)- or naval law (anything the Bartons got up to, including, but not limited to, sending James IV a barrel of Flemish heads and nicking a ship the king had given his uncle the king of Denmark, or perhaps smuggling cases like that of the Edward Bonaventure), or even just your usual Deranged Noblemen like the Wolf of Badenoch or perhaps Alexander Irvine of Drum (who among other things, mutilated his chaplain and is alleged to have yeeted Fraser of Philorth off the Brig of Balgownie). So there’s lots to choose from but I wanted to pick one with a comparatively low body count, and also I personally find this one interesting- though I apologise in advance if it doesn’t meet your mark, and feel free to ask about the others if not.

Anyway.

Perthshire, 1527- Teenage nun's brother and his powerful friends attack a priory to secure her position

(View over the Tay from Elcho Castle today. Sadly I don’t have any photos of the fields where the priory would have stood, but this might give some idea of the landscape, where the river bends round through the Carse of Gowrie towards Perth)

It’s somewhat common knowledge that a noble family’s tradition of nominating the heads of monasteries and the position of bishops could be very contentious and valuable, but even though they’re discussed less often it’s worth noting that influence over the nomination of the heads of nunneries could also be deeply important to the secular nobility. Even though they were theoretically even less involved in ‘worldly affairs’ than monasteries, that did not prevent certain nuns from being heavily involved in some political and social issues, like Isabella Hoppringle, prioress of Coldstream, who seems to have acted as a spy and informant on the borders. The position of abbess or prioress at a nunnery could be perceived as a sinecure for daughters of a certain family, and some families were willing to go to considerable lengths to secure this influential position for their female relatives. This is what seems to have happened at the Perthshire nunnery of Elcho in 1527, during the unsettled minority of King James V.

In 1526, an eighteen year old nun named Euphemia Leslie had ambitions of becoming prioress of Elcho. However, rather inconveniently for her, Elcho already HAD a prioress- Elizabeth Swinton, who had purchased the office of prioress from one Margaret Swinton back in 1511 (the Swintons were a Berwickshire family- at first glance one might have expected the women of the family to enter another south-east nunnery like Coldstream or North Berwick but women’s religious foundations in Scotland were often small, and they may have had to enter the Perthshire nunnery due to lack of vacancies in Berwickshire). Undeterred, Euphemia did not let this stop her and she began litigation against Elizabeth Swinton, claiming the office of prioress. Elizabeth, whose purchase of the office had been approved by the late Alexander Stewart, Archbishop of St Andrews, stuck to her guns and decided to take the case to pope. However in an unexpected twist, the papacy denied her claim, compelling her to resign the office in return for a pension and granting the title of prioress to the young Euphemia Leslie.

Elizabeth Swinton did not give in easily. She raised multiple objections to her opponent’s candidacy- that Euphemia Leslie was too young, that she was illegitimate (the daughter of a priest at that), that her parents had been related in the forbidden degrees, that she had obtained the office of prioress unlawfully, and so on. She did resign the office on several occasions and this was documented, but she then seems to have changed her mind again (or rescinded this whenever she was free to do so) and continued to act as if she were prioress in some capacity, making several appeals against the judgement in favour of Euphemia. It seems that her rival had powerful backers and on one particular occasion, she was threatened with physical violence. Some time in 1527, John Stewart, earl of Atholl* and his uncle Andrew, the bishop of Caithness, arrived at Elcho with eighty armed men, broke into the nunnery and confined Elizabeth Swinton to a chamber. There, Euphemia Leslie’s brother Robert, who was an advocate, oversaw Elizabeth’s forced resignation “for fear of her life” and compelled her to constitute procurators at Rome who would formally resign the office of prioress in favour of his sister.

As soon as she was free to do so, Elizabeth Swinton immediately appealed to Rome again and also brought a complaint about Atholl and his companions before the king’s council (though the latter decided that so far as they were concerned, Euphemia Leslie’s claim looked legitimate enough). She continued to supplicate against Leslie until at least 1529, but from 1532 at least Leslie was exercising the office of prioress without opposition. It is difficult to decide who actually had the ‘right’ to the office. We have to rely on individual testimonies for certain events, not least Elizabeth’s testimony regarding the attack on Elcho. (That being said, regardless of who had the right, personally I think that if you are a bishop who finds himself attacking a nunnery with a small army and imprisoning the prioress on behalf of a teenager, you probably need to take a good look at your life choices.) There is also some evidence that Elizabeth Swinton was not an entirely competent prioress. In the end it’s a rather interesting example of conflict over the office of prioress that got a bit more out of hand than usual, and it’s much more complex than my summary. But it’s a good reminder that even women sworn to god were sometimes subject to similar rivalries and ambitions as their secular kinsmen and women.

(Elcho priory no longer exists, but here’s a picture of the lovely castle a few fields away that occupied the lands after the Reformation)

[Sources- a full run-down of this conflict is given in K. Perkins’ chapter “Death, Removal and Resignation: The Succession to the Office of Prioress in Late Medieval Scotland” in the book “Twisted Sisters: Women, Crime, and Deviance in Scotland Since 1400″. However a short summary is also available under Euphemia Leslie’s name here and an account of Elizabeth Swinton’s complaint to the lords of council regarding the attack on Elcho can be found here]

* It is interesting to note that John Stewart, 3rd Earl of Atholl’s mother was also involved in an Interesting case regarding invasion of church property after her son’s death. During another unsettled royal minority, Janet Campbell, dowager Countess of Atholl, was ‘tutrix’ (like a regent but for noble estates and children) to her young grandson, the 4th earl. In November 1543, the Bishop of Dunkeld complained before the lords of council that Janet, accompanied by Lord Methven (Margaret Tudor’s widower) and a great many others had fortified Cluny with artillery and men and laid siege to the cathedral and bishop’s palace of Dunkeld. The accused protested that they had been acting for the good of the country, as the places of Dunkeld were so defenceless that it was only a matter of time before criminals attacked them, and Janet, Countess of Atholl in particular claimed that she had only acted in this manner because she was honour bound to protect the property of the bishop of Dunkeld during her grandson’s minority. The case was settled when Janet, Methven, and the others agreed to have their men quit the bishop’s property on a certain day, after Janet had taken her ‘provision’. [Source- pages 235-6]

[acaseofthewiggins]

Reverse Charge Call (Giles/Ethan)

Summary: After the incident with Eyghon, Rupert's back with his parents and has almost got his life back on track. And then he gets a call from Ethan.

Length: 1637 words

Also available on AO3 here.

This is based on a prompt from left_handed_moth, who’s no longer even on Tumblr that’s how long ago I got it. Better late than never? Anyway the prompt was “things you said over the phone” + Giles/Ethan.

----

“Yeah? Er, that is, Giles residence, Rupert speaking.”

 “Good afternoon, sir. This is Miriam from the telephone company. Will you accept a reverse charge call from an… Ethan Rayne?”

“%*@#$!”

 “I’m sorry, sir?”

“Yes, yes. Put him through.”

 “Hello, Ripper.”

“My name is Rupert. And I thought I told you not to call me here.”

 “It’s nice to hear your voice too. Not sure about the new accent, though. Can’t say that it suits you.”

“This is my real accent.”

 “Still doesn’t suit you.”

“Why are you calling, Ethan? I thought we agreed to keep our distance while we sorted our lives out.”

 “As I remember, most of the agreeing was on one side.”

“A-and I’m quite certain that I’m not in the mood to have this conversation again. I’ve got a lot of studying to do—”

 “Oh? Back in uni already?”

“No. Though, if all goes well, I should be by Michaelmas term.”

 “Michaelmas term? Oxford, then? Only they’d be too snobby to just say ‘autumn.’ I wonder, have your posh old school chums missed you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I imagine some have moved on by now. It’s been several years. And, as for those who are still there, I imagine they’ve more or less forgotten about me.”

 “Yeah, easy enough, isn’t it? Making new friends and forgetting old ones? You were struggling with it when we first met, but you’ve always been such a quick study.”

“I wasn’t planning on forgetting you, Ethan. I’ll be out of London for a few years, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still meet occasionally.”

 “Oh, yes. I can just see it. You, me, and your fancy Oxford mates… No? Maybe something more like this: you call, I bus up to Oxford, we meet in some towny bar where you don’t run too much risk of being seen by anyone you know. Or, if that’s still too much for you, you can always pop down to London during a school break, meet me in some dive, and finish up the evening by buggering me in a filthy alley—”

“Ethan! I am at my parents’!”

 “Ah yes, and how are the ‘stodgy old hypocrites’ now anyway?”

“My parents are fine. Now—”

 “Remember when you took that scabies-infested slag home for Christmas, just to piss them off? Now that was a laugh.”

“The look on their faces was—Er. Th-that is to say, it wasn’t particularly funny in the end. It took Mum months to get rid of the infestation.”

 “Come now, you laughed harder than any of us when you told that story.

The funny thing is though, you never had to pick up some twat. You could have taken me up on my offer. Scabies may itch, but I could have really gotten under their skin.”

“...”

 “Oh. Bad choice of words. Does your mark ever bother you? Mine does sometimes. Prickles in the middle of the night, keeping me awake. And then I’ll start thinking about what it was like. When he was inside us. That feeling of freedom. All the worry and pain, just sliding away. It’s enough for me to almost want him back. Even remembering—”

“Yes. Well, I do have quite a lot of studying to do, so if there’s nothing else…”

 “Wait! I didn’t call just to catch up.”

“What do you want?”

 “I wasn’t lying when I said I was happy to hear your voice. But the thing is… I’m in a spot of trouble.”

“Ah. And what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

 “Mmm, nothing much. A slight complication. I’d agreed to do a job for a clan of Kelroth demons. Just a spot of chaos magic. Meant to make the members of the rival clan lose all their hair. No small feat considering how the buggers are covered in the stuff.”

“So your spell failed?”

 “Oh, it worked perfectly. A little too well really.”

“It affected all of them didn’t it?”

 “Both clans, yes. And you how vain the Kelroth are about their hair. Now that I’ve seen what’s underneath, I can understand why.”

“Ah. And now the Kelroth want their money back? Money which you, of course, no longer have?”

 “Er, yes. Plus extra for ‘loss of dignity.’ Really, I can’t see why I should be blamed for the vagrancies of chaos magic.”

“Why indeed? Honestly, Ethan, don’t you think a little more caution would be warranted? Kelroth demons are notoriously hot-tempered and chaos magic is—”

“Dangerous? Unpredictable? You might be able to afford caution. You’ve got your parents and your destiny to fall back on. But me? At least Janus won’t turn his back on me. I’m not even sure if that’s even possible given his two-sided nature.”

“You’re worshiping Janus now? Have you completely lost your mind? When did this start?”

 “A few months ago. I didn’t have you or the others to back me up anymore. I needed power, and Janus offers plenty to his worshipers.”

“And mental instability and early death.”

 “I’m touched by your concern. Really. It’d be a little more believable if you hadn’t vanished the instant things got difficult.”

“I told you. I needed some time to see my parents, a-and get my life sorted. That didn’t give you the right to start worshiping chaos.”

“The right? And you’re the authority on what I have the ‘right’ to do?”

“That’s not what I meant. But… you can’t seriously think that Janus is the answer.”

“What I think is that, if I don’t get the Kelroth their money, they’re going to tear my fingers out one by one and give them to their spawn for teething toys.”

“And how much money are we discussing here?”

 “Well, the advance was around three hundred quid—”

“Three hundred?! That is, no. I’m sorry, Ethan. I can’t.”

 “Why not? Your family’s not exactly short on dosh.”

“My family. Not me. And I can’t ask them for money, not after everything I’ve already put them through.”

 “There must be something you can do.”

“No, but maybe there’s something you can do. Leave Janus behind. Find a more legitimate use for your gifts. Th-the council maybe. They could always use a sorcerer of your talents. They’d protect you. My word may not count for much with them right now, but maybe if I could convince my father to vouch for you—Don’t laugh, this isn’t a joke!”

 “Your father? Hah, well you’ve got to admit it’s a bit funny. You weren’t willing to take me to your parents even to piss them off.”

“This is different.”

 “Yes. It certainly is. Tell me. How exactly would you introduce me to your father?”

“As a friend. And a competent mage.”

 “Right. I’d rather take my chances with the Kelroth.”

“Of course. Why should I expect anything else from you?”

 “Look, Ripper. Surely everything we’ve been through together is worth a couple hundred quid?”

“It’s Rupert. And everything I own doesn’t add up to more than a few hundred. Look, Ethan—”

 “Hmm. Well, I wonder how your dear Mummy and Daddy would respond if I were to turn up at your doorstep.”

“What?”

 “Oh, just imagine the chaos I can make. Not to mention all the things I could tell them. Some of which I’m sure you didn’t mention when you pulled your prodigal son routine.”

“Oh. I see.”

 “I can think of a few particularly juicy anecdotes right now. For example, there was the night we started at the King’s Head and ended in the rubbish dump—”

“Ethan, stop. I’d been about to say, before you tried to blackmail me, that I can try to get your money. But it won’t be easy. You said 300 pounds?”

 “Er, better make that an even 500. I’ll need a little extra, don’t-rip-out-my-extremities money.”

“500? Jesus, Ethan.”

 “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious, you know that. It’s just, you should see how angry this lot is and—”

“Shut up. I’m thinking. My father keeps too close of an eye on the books and artifacts. But my nan collected a lot of stuff on her travels that hasn’t seen the light of day in decades. I bet I could nick some of her things and fence them downtown without anyone being the wiser. … Er, that is, items that aren’t too dangerous to put on the market.”

 “I knew I could count on you, Ripper old chap.”

“It’s Rupert! Ripper was an idiotic nickname from the worst part of my life. And I won’t be called by it.”

 “The worst? You can’t mean—”

“How can I not mean it?! Randall died, Ethan. Have you already forgotten, or do you just not care?”

 “…”

“I’ll get you your 500 pounds. But on one condition.”

 “That I’ll get on the straight and narrow and never touch another drop of chaos magic as long as I live?”

“No. We both know you’ll keep looking for your next thrill till it kills you.”

 “And you’re any different?”

“I bloody-well am! … Or at least, I’m trying to be.”

 “What then?”

“Give me one week to get your money. And after... You will leave me alone. You will not call, you will not scry, you will not write. You will not happen to run into me on the street or turn up suddenly on my door. Our association will be over.”

 “But, surely there must be some way we can still be—”

“Be what, Ethan? We’re… we’re not on the same path anymore.”

 “I just… don’t want to lose you too.”

“Then don’t make me steal from my family. Tell me you’ll get the money some other way.”

 “…”

“I thought not. Give me a week. I’ll contact you through the old channels when I have the money. Now, is there anything else?”

 “No. No, I suppose there isn’t.”

“Fine. Goodbye, Ethan.”

 “Goodbye. Rupert.”

[noisyquokka]

Fairytale Kisses

pairing: Jisung x Fem!reader

genre: Floffity floof floof, my buds

length: 2.4k

warnings: N/A unless Jisung interacting with a child is dangerous... nahhh.... unless...

Gist - When you planned a night out with your best friend, you didn’t expect to forget about babysitting your cousin. You didn’t expect to kiss your best friend either but that’s a tale for another time...

A/N: Alright so to begin with, this was supposed to be Jisung’s birthday drabble but uhh... see, my imagination got the best of me so this is longer than I expected it to be. SO!!! If you guys enjoy this and want a part 2, let me know because I have a little more up my sleeve! Plus, Jisung with a child would be the sweetest shit ever I legitimately wanna cry :’)

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"Spongebob?"

"No."

"Bubbles?"

"Nope!"

"Oh, oh, I know! Moomin!"

"Very good guess, muffin, but you're wrong again!"

Your little cousin pouted, nuzzling her face into your back. You smiled to yourself, tapping away at your phone screen. There was no denying how much love you held for your cousin - the youngest of your family - what with how often you babysat for your aunt. You always enjoyed watching her, today was no different. Well, besides your special guest.

"Can you just tell me? My thinky box is broken." She said, shuffling around so she was standing in front of you. A chuckle escaped you, staring up at the 6-year-old playing with her pigtails. The simplicity of a child's mind.

"Don't tell me you forgot about your favorite character!" You hinted, brows raising in surprise. The child threw her head back, sticking her bottom lip out in deep thought. A small gasp shook her tiny body and you locked eyes, a hint of a gummy smile on her face.

"Sung Sung!?"

Her eyes filled with hope as she observed your features, waiting for any sign that her answer was correct this time. Initially, today was supposed to be a day spent with Jisung going to the movies and just hanging out. And it would've been had you not forgotten about watching the child in front of you. Luckily Jisung wasn't appalled at the idea of bringing her along with you as it was quite obvious how much he loved her from the first time he met her. You lifted a finger to your chin in thought.

"Hmm, I don't know... let's find out!" You replied, tapping on Jisung's contact. After a few rings, the call connected and your cousin squealed with delight at the sound of your best friend's voice.

"Sung Sung, when are you gonna be here?" She asked, hopping in front of you excitedly. Sometimes you wondered if she enjoyed Jisung's company more than yours!

"I'll be there in just a few minutes, sweetpea. Can you wait for me?" He asked, voice muffled over the speakerphone. She nodded in response and you laughed, listening to her squeals of happiness.

"That's an affirmative, Ji! We'll be seeing you."

"Alright."

The call ended and your little cousin made her way back over to you. She continued to dance around the living room, slipping under your legs that were propped up on the ottoman, and finally pouncing on the couch beside you.

"Where is Sung Sung?" She asked, standing on the cushion to peer out the window. The question sounded more like a demand. As if the boy should've been there already by some sort of magic spell. You set your phone down, sitting up next to the impatient little girl.

"Why don't we go and wait outside for Sung Sung? He should be here soon!" You said, standing up. Before you could move away from the couch, two little arms flung over your shoulders, climbing onto your back. On instinct, your hands grabbed for her legs, supporting most of her weight so she wouldn't fall. Once she was comfortable, she pointed towards the front door.

"Onward, trusty steed! We must welcome our King Sung Sung at the entrance to the castle!" She said it so seriously that you almost believed you were apart of some fantasy universe. Until those giggles resounded throughout the room once again, emitting nothing but beautiful and happy vibes into everything around her, including you. Imitating the sounds of a cow, you raced through the house with your little cousin clinging to your neck.

"Why are you mooing?" She giggled, causing you to stop and glance over your shoulder with furrowed brows.

"Wha- don't you know about the magical moo-cows?"

"Nooo," more giggles, "I don't believe you!"

You gasped in mock hurt, walking down the hallway as you spoke.

"Well, you should! These special moo-cows carry special little girls all over the kingdom on adventures and they help welcome royal guests."

You felt her cling tighter to your waist with her legs, adjusting herself on your back.

"Do they help welcome Kings like Sung Sung?" She asked, squealing inwardly as you stopped at the front door. You nodded, opening the door to the warm air of late Summer. Just on queue, Jisung skated up the street as you made your way outside.

"Sung Sung!"

Jisung's eyes widened at the sight of your little cousin, hopping off his skateboard at the end of your driveway. Jisung was your best friend, that you were sure of. But for the past few months, you noticed the shift in your emotions; the shift that would change things indefinitely. You were crushing on Jisung.

Now just because you noticed them didn't mean you did the healthy thing. Unless stuffing them in the deepest crevis of your mind and ignoring them was healthy. But even that was hard because frankly, Han Jisung did a lot of things that made your heart rate pick up. Right now was no exception. You watched as your little cousin ran up to him, that mousey voice repeating Jisung's nickname like a mantra. He bent down to pick her up and she squealed once more.

"Hello, my little peanut." Jisung beamed, resting her on his hip. She smiled from ear to ear, wrapping her small arms around his neck. You knew how much adoration Jisung had for her, so much so that you swore you'd never seen him interact with any other child in the same nature. That little girl had Jisung wrapped around her tiny finger and vice-versa.

"Aren't you going to welcome your King inside?" You asked, prompting your little cousin to hide her face in the crook of his neck. Jisung could feel his heart explode in his chest at her actions, so simple yet so sweet.

"Aww, have you been keeping watch over my crown? You know it's very important to me." He said and she nodded. The three of you made your way inside, Jisung making a B-line for the living room with the pint-sized child still in his arms. As soon as he sat down she was gone, running off to fetch her King's glorious crown.

"You know, she adores you more than Prince Eric!" You said entering the living room, drinks in hand. Jisung chuckled, taking the soda you offered him.

"What, nooo... You think so?"

You smirked at his hesitance, cracking open your own drink. Before you could answer, the sound of tiny footsteps across the wooden floor resounded through the house. Your little cousin bounded around the corner, the crown she had made for Jisung in her hands. Without warning, she pounced on his lap and Jisung let out a grunt, handing you his drink.

"Are you using me, King Sung Sung, as a jungle gym?" He bellowed, holding her small body above him. All she managed to do was squeak in surprise, cackling at how low Jisung's voice was.

"That's not King Sung Sung!" She exclaimed as Jisung placed her back on his lap. You watched as he played along, rubbing his stomach.

"Ah, you're right, peanut. I'm not feeling so good." He stared at his hands, rubbing them on his jeans. The child studied his every move, seemingly confused.

"Do you have a tummy ache? Are your eyes being controlled by tiny minions?" Jisung found himself close to breaking character when she pulled a silly face, but he remained calm and collected.

"No, no. It's my hands..." He said, showing her the palms of his hands. "I think it's taken hold of me, I can't control it!" Closer and closer his slender fingers crept towards her sides. You watched as she seemed to connect the dots, springing up to run away from the boy. Her attempt was futile and before you knew it, those contagious giggles filled the room, enveloping you and Jisung in pure bliss.

"Stop! Stop!" She squealed, trying her best to escape Jisung's merciless prodding of her sides. "Magical moo-cow, de- defeat the monster!"

You knew that when your best friend played with your little cousin, he always pulled you into the antics. So naturally, you were keeping your distance to save yourself the stomach ache. But how could you let your precious little fairy be defeated by the big bad tickle monster? You set your drink on the coffee table and armed yourself with an accent pillow, taking a swing at his left side. Jisung obviously wasn't expecting that! His wide eyes stared back at you, mouth agape as you held the pillow up once again, attacking the boy a second time.

"YOU'VE MET YOUR MATCH, TICKLE MONSTER!" You exclaimed, mooing aggressively. Your cousin had sat up and grabbed her own pillow by now, joining you in the battle with soft wallops and a war cry that sounded close to baby Groot.

"YEAH YOU MEANIE! GIVE US BACK KING SUNG SUNG!"

"NEVER!!" Jisung howled, falling off the side of the couch with a thud. You stopped, waiting for him to pop his head over the armrest but he didn't. Did he actually hurt himself? You shuffled to the opposite side of the couch, looking over the side to find... the hardwood floor.

"Ji- AHH!"

In an instant, Jisung had hopped over the back of the sofa and onto you, trapping you under him. His fingers found your sides with ease and you wished you would've kept bashing him with the pillow because you already felt your abdomen screaming for mercy. The little girl had resumed her soft wallops on Jisung's back but you knew that he wouldn't let up on you. You were one of the most ticklish people on Earth and he was eating up every second of your laughter and pleas to stop.

"I'll stop once you apologize for whacking me with those hard pillows!" He said, not backing down in the slightest.

"Oh pl-ease, tho-those are the so- softest pillows I own!" You replied, sucking in breaths every time his fingers dug into your skin. If Jisung was anything, it was relentless! Your arms did their best to fight off his attacks, to no avail. There was no way you could keep this up! Your sides were already cramping from how sensitive your waist was.

"C'mon, Y/N!" He teased, chuckling at your squeals, "It's the King or the Queen!"

Did you hear him correctly? King or Queen? Last you checked you were playing cow! You couldn't bother to worry about it right now, though. You were in a bit of a predicament! Finding your upper arm strength, you shoved him off of you, his back landing on the couch cushion behind him.

"You're right!" You said, grinning down at him. "And the King seems to have been defeated." Jisung smirked back, pulling you forward by the arm. It was that moment that your mind started screaming.

Oh... This is close...

Very close.

Your opposite arm had landed right beside Jisung's head, propping you up just enough that you weren't nose to nose with him. What made you freak was how he was handling this close proximity; way too well! The smirk on his face had faded, turning his expression soft. His brown eyes stared into yours, slightly hidden by his unruly hair. If he still wasn't holding onto your forearm you would have swept those strands from his line of sight but it did make him look softer. So much softer... SNAP OUT OF IT, Y/N! God forbid you had to complete some sort of 'don't crush on Jisung' challenge, you would've lost years ago! Hell, you were breaking now! His gaze fell to your lips for a split second and, oh boy... you wondered if he could hear your heartbeat pick up. Maybe he did because he cocked his head, blinked twice, and pulled you closer. Before your brain could comprehend those actions, Jisung had captured your lips in a sweet and delicate kiss.

Do you pinch yourself now?

This was actually happening!?

Your best friend? Kissing you?

After a few moments, Jisung pulled away. You rested your forehead against his shoulder, keeping your eyes closed out of embarrassment. You don't know why you were embarrassed. Maybe because of how much you enjoyed it. Or maybe it was because you knew he didn't really mean it.

"Eeewwwwww!"

Both you and Jisung looked towards the sound of the small voice. Your little cousin sat on the ottoman right in front of you, her nose crinkled in disgust.

"You just kissed a moo-cow!" She giggled, sticking her tongue out. You glanced down at Jisung, who was already smiling at the little girl. He sat up with you, leaning forward to pick her up and place her on his lap.

"Do you know why I kissed the moo-cow, peanut?" He asked her. Your cousin shook her head, jutting her bottom lip out.

"Well, you know how fairytales go! To break the curse, you need a true love's kiss."

Say what now!?

"But, I thought moo-cows were common. They help greet royal guests," The child poked her cheek in thought. "And you're King Sung Sung. Princes are the ones that break curses!"

You weren't even a part of this conversation, you were just there! Quite frankly, you liked it that way. You didn't know how to respond to any of what was happening anyway. Jisung had kissed you without a word! What did it even mean? You hoped it wasn't going to be one of those 'I kissed you, now let's ignore that for the rest of our lives' situations. On second thought, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea...

Jisung gasped at your cousin's words, shaking his head.

"Is that what you've heard? Tsk, tsk, tsk!" He took the crown from her hands, placing the mass of sticks and orange silk flowers on his head. Perfect. "Kings are much more powerful than Princes. And if you see a magical moo-cow, that's not always a good thing."

"What! Why?" She questioned, her brown eyes darting between you and Jisung. Yeah, why!!! You were as confused as she was.

"There are evil wizards in this kingdom that curse others, turning them into animals! Y/N just happened to be one of those people." He said, shooting you a smile. That beautiful smile... The child blinked, seemingly confused before she shrugged.

"Ok, well... can we go for ice cream now?"

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head.

"You haven't eaten dinner yet, muffin." You reminded, hearing her whine in protest.

"C'mon, you wanna grow up to be strong, right?" Jisung asked, standing up with the little girl in his arms. A sheepish nod was the only answer he received. "Then you've gotta eat right! We can't defeat evil with just ice cream!"

"Of course we can!"

Oh, that was a good try on her part. You grabbed your phone off the table, slipping it in your pocket.

"Then, let's get going!"

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I genuinely enjoyed writing this and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it! If y’all want a part 2, let me know 💗 I’ll most likely post that on Ji’s birthday!

[justphilia]

Aubade is a great fic; too bad it’s possibly dead.

Been a while since I did a long long babble on a fic I like, and lately, I’ve been rereading a few fics to fuel my entertainment. I low key notice how rare it is to find a multi-chaptered fic for Ritshou that doesn’t have Terumob as main, which is really funky honestly.

I talked about Aubade once, in my list of incomplete fanfics I missed back in like February. But it’s so good, I’m gonna make a long post about it lmao.

Even though this fic has literally taken the number one ranking in my favorites list, it only took today for me to bookmark it in my ao3 (mostly because I’ve been waiting it for it to be completed before doing so.)

And generally, anything that I bookmark on ao3 is something I’ve cried about at least once, whether it’s because of the story or because I love the story too much. So anyways,

Aubade by Ravenesta is a M rated Ritshou fic centered around Ritsu, who moves in with Shou after Shou declared he was going to stay in Japan for good.

They buy an apartment together near Ritsu’s university and go on a shopping spree in IKEA for furniture and such, which is as chaotic as it doesn’t sound. The tension between them is real and it’s there, so much so you just want them to get together already sometimes.

I’ve read this fic for a total of 4 times, and I will keep rereading it until the day I die. If you asked me what would come to mind if I thought about Ritshou, it would be the fic’s summary;

My dove, my doe, I love you so I cannot, will not, let you go

Ritsu and Shou have been orbiting around each other ever since they were thirteen years old. Really, something like this was inevitable.

It’s so simple and sweet, and somehow, without fail, every time this summary (specifically the poem) comes to mind, I would get teary eyed. Even now I’m getting :’( over the poem, just because it literally speaks Ritshou to me.

The fic starts off with Ritsu heading back home by train to Seasoning City during his summer break from college in Grain City. It’s written in a way where it’s very easy for you to visualize the scenario of Ritsu waiting for the train to come while holding a cup of cheap coffee.

It’s realistically detailed too, going as far as to include little quirks about Ritsu and the people around him (stranger or not).

Both Shou and Shigeo gets introduced during a phone texting scene, where you can easily tell their personality was conveyed right through the way they message Ritsu. Shigeo adds little face emoticons with caring and sweet messages, and Shou shortens his words to ‘u’ and ‘ur’ with chaotic spacings between words and many exclamation marks.

Even Ritsu has his own way of messaging, always adding punctuation to his sentences.

Later on, after Ritsu arrives in Seasoning City, he’s picked up by Shigeo and Teru, who are already a couple in this fic, and you can tell how much Ritsu misses his home.

Teru is such a beautiful mess in this fic, everything about him is dramatic and overtop, going from his haircut to his little diet habits, and he’s still playful with Ritsu. The ‘Little Brother’ nickname will never go away.

(Also, at some point, Ritsu makes a face immaturely after seeing Shigeo drop a kiss on Teru’s head and I think that was pretty funny)

(Also also, they all call Reigen ‘Dad’. Which is hecking adorable, but it did confuse me at some point because Ritsu named Reigen’s contact as Dad and I legitimately thought that was Ritsu’s actual dad until later.)

Fast forward after Ritsu gets a haircut from Teru in Spirits and Such. Pretty funny considering how Reigen did the same thing to Serizawa in Season 2, but I’m mildly sure Serizawa doesn’t exist in this fic so it was probably a coincidence.

So they’re going shopping and Ritsu gets another text from Shou, because Shou isn’t in town, or at least, that was what we were led to believe, until he does pop up. 

And it wouldn’t be Shou if his appearance isn’t random, so of course his first line is to comment on Kiwis looking like balls.

Ritsu, being Ritsu, responds by calling Shou an asshole and proceeds to be conflicted between wanting to punch Teru, because he knew all along, or wanting to hug Shou, because Ritsu misses him so much. He goes for the latter.

Cue Shou and Ritsu hanging out because Shigeo and Teru had to go save Reigen from a spirit job, and their interaction is just so Ritshou it makes you feel fuzzy inside y’know? Because it’s just...friends being friends.

Ok so fast forward again, and they’re sitting around in Ritsu’s room and here’s where the plot begins:

Shou, sleepily, declares he wants them to live together, before suddenly falling asleep.

And Ritsu panics because he can’t tell if he’s serious or just sleep drunk. So he consults Teru to confirm this, who answers that, yes, Shou was being serious, and this just makes Ritsu panic even more because wow he did not expect that and mostly because he can’t afford an apartment.

Shou, being the rich boy he is, offers to settle the payment, because of course he would.

Ritsu weighs his options in his head and convinces himself that he’ll do it. So that’s what they do. They make a little list, which is funny and adorable, and start scouting for apartments online.

Fast forward yet again and Ritsu’s plan was to first gather his shit from his dorm room, crash there for a bit, before fully moving into the new apartment.

Reigen, Teru, and Shigeo are seeing the two off at the train station, and Reigen being Reigen, he’s all double checking that Ritsu has all his shit and it’s just such a dad moment.

Most of their luggage is Shou’s because Ritsu packs light and most of his things are at the dorm, and I brought this up because of this scene:

“It’s my oldest friend!” Shou had argued, trying to wrestle it from Ritsu’s hands. “Six years I have known you, Suzuki, and never once has there been a working bulb in this lamp.”

We get a few more cute scenes of Shou running around and being playful before being tired out and falling asleep on the train, and there’s this tender moment where Shou’s snuggling on Ritsu’s jacket, which the latter had taken off early, and he makes a comment saying how it smells like Ritsu which just baffles the only. It’s...nice, makes me fluffy.

Anyways they reach Ritsu’s dorm to crash and pack, and they have this scene where Shou gets a little emotional about how organized Ritsu is, and he genuinely couldn’t believe how Ritsu is making this work. 

So! Chapter 6, alright! And it’s the apartment viewing chapter, because of course they need to view apartments before moving in (which is as fun as it sounds).

They view 3 apartments, with the third try being the charm;

Apartment 1 fucking sucks! And Ritsu only chose this because he wanted to get a feel of how apartment viewing works, and you gotta hand it to him for thinking ahead. So no matter what, he knows he won’t be buying this apartment.

Apartment 2 was actually pretty decent, the landlord, however, was not. Throughout this scene, she is constantly trying to get into Ritsu’s space, and you don’t exactly know what’s up until the very end where she gets really close. Shou saves Ritsu in the end by dragging him away and making it known that, “THIS IS MY MAN DO NOT TOUCH.” And makes an enemy out of her, so big whoops.

Apartment 3 is kinda awkward but workable, with their landlord being the sweetest man to walk this earth. His kids were born on the viewing day, which made him a little late, though Ritsu finds in understandable. After the viewing, Ritsu asks if they can crash at the apartment even though they haven’t actually gotten it yet, and the man’s like, “Don’t worry, you’re gonna live here anyways so might as well crash here now!” Protect this man.

Next scene we have Ritsu finally moving out of his dorm and into the apartment with Shou and after getting a few groceries, they finally decide they should head to IKEA for furniture. It’s a pretty funny scene because everyone knows IKEA is an equivalent to a bloody maze, so you get to watch them play around in the display rooms and climbing into beds and getting lost.

And it’s funnier because this is the Shou’s first time stepping foot into an IKEA, and Ritsu makes fun of him for it briefly. Shou gets back at him later on when they’re playing around in a bathroom display room.

he doesn’t quite notice where Shou’s wandered off to until he turns around from a bathroom sink and spots him in a shower stall, calling him over with a wave of his hand. Ritsu steps inside, ducking his head under the bar for the shower curtain

He almost startles when Shou reaches over and pulls the shower curtain closed with a flourish, leaving them enclosed in the shower stall, somehow still mysteriously lit by no lamp that Ritsu can see. He shoots Shou a questioning look, only to snort when Shou leans back against the shower wall, a hand over his heart and eyelashes fluttering.

“Why, Mister Kageyama,” he says, all false coquettishness, “Cornering a young girl like me alone in a place like this? How scandalous.”

He considers giving Shou the reaction he wants, a laugh and a shove on the shoulder and possibly a comment about exactly how classy making out in an IKEA shower stall is, but the reaction he’d gotten earlier was too good to resist playing along with the joke.

He shamelessly uses his height advantage when he steps into Shou’s space, one leg between Shou’s and a hand propped casually on the wall beside his head. He leans down so that their noses are almost touching, and says low, “Well with you standing here all gorgeous like this, how could I resist?”

It’s pathetic joke flirting, some cheesy disaster line out of every old black and white movie he’s ever watched with his mother, so he doesn’t quite expect it when Shou seems to freeze, eyes wide and locked onto Ritsu’s. It’s only for a few seconds, a barely noticeable pause before Shou’s howling with laughter as he pushes past him out of the shower, but Ritsu gets caught on it, on the hitch he thought he’d heard in Shou’s breath, on the way he feels oddly wired, like his skin is buzzing from the proximity, and what the fuck had just happened?

This scene, ladies and gentlemen, had me sold on the fic. Starting with how Shou had playfully dragged Ritsu into the display shower in an attempt to tease Ritsu, only to be surprised that Ritsu had played along because, according to Ritsu, the raven would usually just laugh and dismiss the joke as a joke. 

You can literally see that’s where the subtle feelings come out, where their friendship suddenly moves a bit faster into something more. It’s a slowburn for a reason, because their relationship happens really slow, so it’s moments like these that makes you really warm inside.

We come to a near end to the fic from here, which includes a scene where Shou cooks and Ritsu has a wet dream that’s pretty brief tbh and nothing too explicit don’t worry. Then there’s some scenes where Ritsu’s doing school things and Shou’s being Shou in the kitchen and everywhere.

It slows to a stop after the iconic Shou and Ritsu flies scene, because we’re all suckers for Ritsu trusting Shou that he won’t drop him when they fly.

SO! You can pretty much get the idea of how the fic will end/go from there since the major arc scene has been settled (moving in together). And frankly, if Ravenesta was to stop the fic on chapter 9, I don’t think we’ll lose too much since the only thing we didn’t get is a conclusion to the slowburn.

If you’ve read up to here, thanks for indulging me I suppose. I mostly write little reviews for my own sake since I really talk too much and it’s very hard to collect my thoughts at times.

Is this a fic I would recommend? Most definitely yes, it’s lovely, it’s well written, it’s captivating. It is the embodiment of Ritshou’s romance, and I really wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

[theclintbartonbraindump]

Clint Barton x Reader - N(ice) Doggies Ch. 1

Pairing - Clint Barton (Hawkeye) x Reader (that’s you)

Word count - 1772

Warnings - Language I guess, but what did you expect.

This is my first fic that I am actually posting! There will be at least one more chapter, possibly two depending on where it goes and how wordy I get. Just something nice and fluffy. Please feel free to leave comments and suggestions, I’m always looking to improve! Enjoy!

__________

“Did you see that?” The words came from Clint’s mouth as a stuttered hiss as another gust of icy wind whipped around him. The small valley the two of you had chosen to settle down in for the night was offering about as much protection from the Russian winter as a wet blanket. Even with the tent blocking you from the majority of the wind you could still feel wave after wave of what felt like liquid ice traveling under your chin and down the front of your coat. That whole experience was nothing short of miserable.

You and Clint had been told this was the tamest January this part of Siberia had seen in over a decade. “Thank God for that global warming,” the hotel manager had quipped, earning a look from you that was so cold it probably would’ve seen the global crisis reversed. If this was mother nature’s idea of tame you hated to think what she might throw at you if you ever showed up at her door unannounced, interrupting her favorite soap opera.

You shivered aimlessly as the hand Clint had been using to gesture towards whatever he’d apparently seen quickly retreated back to his coat pocket. Despite the violent protest from your neck, which had grown painfully stiff from the cold and your hopeless shivering, you lifted your gaze to match his own. You knew it was probably nothing, just shapes in the snow as is swirled through the trees, but you also knew that he’d keep pestering you about it if you didn’t make some attempt to ease his paranoia. As you suspected your eye met nothing but the endless sea of conifers, painted white by the blasting snow. You tried looking beyond the tree line, hoping to give Clint the benefit of the doubt that he wasn’t just seeing things, but again there was nothing. You saw only the same thing you’d seen for the past three days, trees and snow. The most interesting thing you’d seen on your little Russian excursion was an owl, landing talons first on an unsuspecting field mouse. You looked back to Clint with sarcastic concern.

“I wasn’t aware that hypothermia also caused hallucinations. Or is that the sleep deprivation acting up again. I told you I could take a longer watch.”

“And I told you I am fine, I don’t need more sleep, Mom!” The emphasis he threw onto the last word made you smile as you turned back to the small fire that was now in serious danger of being blown out. It had taken the two of you nearly two hours and Clint using his body as a shield to finally get it lit. If it died now you were certain you would resign yourself to the same fate without a second thought. Damn wind! Weren’t the trees supposed to protect you from this shit?

Clint ignored your amusement at his outburst and turned his gaze towards some distant point beyond the tree. He lingered there quietly for a few more moments before continuing in his defense.

“And I’m not crazy. I definitely saw something.”

“Well Hawkeye, I’ll just have to take your word for it, I guess. You are the eyes of this duo after all.”

You didn’t even have to look up to know that a mischievous smirk had crawled its way onto his lips.

“Oh yeah, what does that make you?”

You didn’t miss a beat.

“Mom, apparently.”

Clint playfully swat at your arm, earning himself a feigned look of anguish to which he just smirked.

“I guess somebody’s gotta keep an eye on me.” He mused.

“If Natasha gave up I don’t know how SHIELD expects me to do any better.” The Russian assassin, and your personal friend, you were more than a little proud to say, had turned the walking catastrophe that was Clint Barton over to you for a couple of missions while she was “on vacation”. Knowing full well that Natasha would sooner be dead than take any well-deserved time off, you guessed that this was just her way of telling you that she was off on an extended solo mission that required her full attention. i.e. she didn’t have time to babysit the strangely easily distracted archer. Clint was the best marksman in the world, there was no doubting that, but his lack of any real formal training showed in some unusual ways. Most recently you’d noticed that it reared its head in Clint’s inability to focus on any one thing for more than exactly seven minutes. Why seven, you had no idea, but you’d clocked it more than once and each time at the seven-minute mark he’d be turning to you with some random thought, usually pertaining to food. The man really just needed someone to keep him on target, literally.

“What makes you say that? I think you’re doing a great job.”

While you wanted to be surprised that Clint hadn’t even pretended to be offended by your previous comment, you couldn’t manage it, because there it was again. You felt it every time he gave you that lopsided smile. It was like he knew the power it had over you. Like he knew it would always make you forget whatever scold or self-deprecating remark you had been planning to make. It’s like he knew just how to make your heart feel lite but turn your knees to lead at the same time. You’d known each other for years but had only really been able to get the chance to know the real Clint Barton over the past few weeks and he was still a mystery to you. You were now more confused about the archer than you had ever been and you didn’t know if his remarks were meant as mischief or if he truly meant it all to be endearing. Clint’s sense of humor, or rather his personality to be honest, always made it difficult to discern the sincere from the sarcasm.

You lowered your head a bit further to hide the blush that was forcing its way to your cheeks. True it would’ve been hidden under layers of rosy, snow-blasted skin, but you couldn’t take the chance. You smiled and went back to poking hopelessly at the fire before finally giving up. In its unattended state, the flames began to wither and eventually choked out of existence. Neither of you made a move to save it so as the fire finally flickered out the cold began to seep its way back into your bones. Not only that, but you were now very aware that night had fallen. Without the fire and with little to no moonlight reaching through the dense canopy of pine trees, you and Clint found yourselves enveloped in the near pitch black.

“Could be worse.” Clint piped up as he shifted closer to you.

“Really? Even with Bigfoot out there creeping on up.”

“I’m serious!”

“How Clint? How does this get worse? I’m sitting here freezing my ass off in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere Russia for absolutely no reason at all.”

Ok, maybe not no reason. You had been sent out here for a pretty legitimate reason actually. Something about Hydra recruiting in the area in the hopes of setting up a base. But days worth of trudging through the snow surrounding your coordinates had only proved what you’d guessed after about the eighth hour of your search. This was all a wild goose chase. Clint had radioed in to report as much only to be met with the news that you’d be forced to stay in the wilderness for at least another 24 hours due to inclement weather. Only once the storm cleared would you be evacuated. That was 36 hours ago, and the snow was showing no signs of relenting. To make matters worse your food stores were running low. You either needed to be rescued or to find the town you had started out in soon or they’d be adding you to the town folklore about people who never came out of these woods.

“There could be wolves.” You stared at him. Jesus Christ why was he like this?

“Wolves?”

“Yeah, you know, wolves. Like doggies only bigger and hungrier.” Why did he look so proud of himself?

“I know what they are, dingus.” You threw and ill-conceived snowball at him in retaliation for the lame joke that still had you chuckling despite yourself. Clint attempted to get his revenge by tackling you, only to be met with an armful of the snow you’d just been sitting in. You looked down at him amused from where you were now standing before gazing out once again past the trees. “You better not jinx us. There’s no way you and I are fighting off monster dogs in our sorry state.”

“Aw c’mon, don’t worry. If there was a pack in the area they would’ve found us by now.” He sounded so nonchalant as he picked himself up and brushed the snow from his pants and jacket. Like he hadn’t just been cracking jokes about one of the many creatures in the region that could and would definitely tear you to shreds. “Come on, let’s get inside. No use staying out here in Jack Frost’s asshole.”

“You go ahead. I’ll keep watch for a while.” You started to take your place back on the ground when Clint caught your arm.

“Of what? The pinecones? Look the fire’s blown out and there’s nothing to see out here, sweetheart. At this point, if there is anything out there you’ll hear it before you see it. Storm’s picking back up. Even I can’t see more than 10 feet ahead out here. Best to just stay in and wait it out.”

His words were all but lost on you after the utterance of the new nickname. Clint had a rep for be a pretentious flirt and you were definitely no stranger to that side of him. You’d been subject to his bad pick-up lines on so many occasions you had started keeping a tally. None of it ever really got to you, or so you had convinced yourself, but there was something in it this time that made you stop and do a mental double-take. Maybe you were overthinking this. You were definitely overthinking this. But then again, he looked more sincere than playful. You shook yourself out of your mild shock when you realized that Clint had been staring at you expectantly. You decided to blame his sudden change in demeanor on the shit circumstances you found yourselves in as you knelt down to climb into the tent.

[tanyuu]

end-eavor

Hi! This is my first article-style theory. It’s obviously not like an actual article, you can tell by the deteriorating quality and fact that I used my own headcanons in place of canon information, but I’d just really love to see an article written by a sleep-deprived reporter bashing Endeavor.

 That’s… all this is. It’s just a 7-page rant on why Endeavor is a terrible parent. And then it quickly dissolves into a theory on why Dabi is Todoroki Touya, so… good luck.

 The reporter who writes this (Ella) is me! I’m not actually a reporter or writer at all, but I work around books. So. I’m gonna call bullshit on myself and get INTO THIS!

  YEEHAW!

 Todoroki Enji, also known as Endeavor (#1 in PHR, but #-7,000,000 in our hearts), has at least three children. They are known as Todoroki Natsuo, Todoroki Fuyumi, and Todoroki Shouto. Shouto has been in the public eye for a while now, especially after he was accepted by recommendation into UA.

Shouto was confirmed to be previously the victim of an act of domestic violence. His well-known facial scar (over his left eye), covers a quarter of his face. The cause was confirmed to be his mother's unstable and rapidly declining mental health.

All three of the Todoroki children released statements in the following years to plead their mother as not guilty (and worthy of single custody.) Endeavor harshly refused these claims, and insisted that their mother had endangered his children. (though he did not call Shouto his child. the term used was 'masterpiece,' which implies... certain things.)

In all fairness, Endeavor's stance on the topic is expected. The safety of your children is important. It's a touchy subject though, so all you need to know is this:

 - Rei Todoroki (ice quirk), mother to the Todoroki children, poured boiling water onto her youngest child (Shouto)'s face.

- The cause was deteriorating mental health, but the cause of said mental state has not been released. Ever.

- Endeavor has potentially harmful opinions regarding his children, as well as near POSSESSIVE qualities with and to his youngest child.

Moving on.

Todoroki Natuso (quirkless), has cut ties with his father, for unknown reasons. Speculators and theorists claim that his father MADE him, as to not interfere with Shouto's "training."

He is now working as a doctor near Shizuoka Prefecture, and has saved many lives. His sister and brother are very proud of him. (and we bet his mother is, too)

Todoroki Fuyumi (sparking ice quirk) works as a preschool teacher. Though Natsuo moved out of Endeavor's "estate" (look up the square footage. we DARE you), Fuyumi has not. According to THIS (link) article, she will not until Shouto has graduated from UA. When prompted, she gave no answer.

Now, you're probably wondering: "Hey, Ella? If there's some kind of scandal, why don't you just go right out and say what you think is going on?"

That's the fun part! I legally CAN'T. Todoroki Enji (Endeavor, your #1 PUBLIC HERO) has ordered that no reporters are allowed to comment on 'how he runs his family.' And honestly, I value my job just a LITTLE too much to run the risk of the Hellflame's wrath.

Onwards, I suppose. And time for some (LEGAL) speculation.

If you recall, I mentioned how there are three confirmed children. That's because (and i did some actual digging here) there are FOUR legitimate Todoroki children.

Does anyone else remember the sports festival 6 years ago? The kid who had a CRAZY blue fire quirk? And then there's the fact that five-ish years ago, all of the footage from the semi-finals was deleted. Almost all of it.

Now, (I say with a grimace, here) I found one photo, and anyone with an eye on the news regarding high-profile villains would recognize THOSE piercings.

Why am I bringing up this blue fire quirk kid, anyway? Blue fire, blue fire, blue fire.

Todoroki Enji, ENDEAVOR. THE NUMBER ONE HERO. Lied about his kids. I'm definitely losing my job now, so... might as well just go with this, I guess. How do I know this?

 We're familiar with Endeavor's ultra-move, the jet-stream style fire blast. He used it in the Hosu attack earlier this year, just before he captured the villain 'Stain.'

 What color is the fire in that crazy powerful attack? B L U E.

Sports Festival mystery kid? Blue fire, spiky RED HAIR, turquoise eyes. It's like... younger, amped-up Endeavor.

 I brought up piercings already, right?

 The boy from the sports festival (let's nickname him v2 for now, short for Version Two of Endeavor. because I would pay SO MUCH to see this kid kick Endeavor's ass. i'll be linking a kickstarter for that later, too) has four piercings on his ears, and a triangle of nose piercings on both sides of his nose.

 Blue fire, spiky hair, turquoise eyes, a FUCK TON of piercings, and just LOOK at this smirk: <IMAGE ATTACHED>.

Now, who does this remind anyone of?

The leader of the Vanguard Action Squad of the infamous League of Villains (LoV). The villain's name is 'Dabi,' which means 'Cremation.' Coincidentally, I looked up what v2's quirk was named. After a HELL of a lot of digging, I found both v2's name AND the name of his quirk.

 Cremation.

And as for the name, well, I'd like Endeavor's official and public reason for keeping his FIRST and OLDEST child out of the public eye.

Todoroki Touya.

What am I implying, here? That one of Endeavor's children became a villain? A high-profile villain, involved with the kidnapping of a minor and attempted murder of at least 19? A villain with a criminal record longer than Shiozaki Ibara’s hair?

I'll provide a list of reasons why I (personally, and definitely not free of bias) think there's way more going on in this picture. Thank you for reading this far, by the way. It really does mean a lot, especially considering that this will likely be the last thing I'll... ever write, at least professionally.

To answer my own question, I'm telling you that Todoroki Touya became the villain 'Dabi.'

Now for the REALLY fun part. Why on Earth would Touya even become a villain? And especially as one of the children of such a well-known (but, frankly, not well-liked) hero?

 I have a short list of reasons why this may have happened.

- Todoroki Enji kicked Touya out (reasons unknown, date unknown, all unconfirmed)

- Touya ran away (reason unconfirmed)

- Pressured by villains (honestly? unlikely)

But, drawing attention to the scar patterns on Dabi (Touya?)'s arms and face. It's a fire burn, but not a REGULAR fire burn. From the looks of it, it wasn’t caused by an external force (you can tell b/c of his fingers). But this implies that Dabi did it HIMSELF, which... is a whole new can of worms.

(I swear all of this is relevant. I'm just... speculating. Diligently.)

In order to do so much self-inflicted damage, you would need a few key things.

1) High pain tolerance. (30% of Dabi's skin is scar tissue. That's... a lot. Have you ever accidentally touched a flame? It hurts, and keeping it there would hurt a lot more. Doing something like that and holding the flame there requires a lot of control.)

2) A high sensitivity to your OWN quirk. Now, quirk biologists have talked about how people usually have a natural immunity to their own quirks, especially emitter-types. But, if Touya THEORETICALLY had a body made for an ICE QUIRK (see where I'm headed?), it would explain why he was so easily burned.

But why would he have such a pain tolerance? And especially... towards burns...?

 Well, I'll let you decide that one for yourself, there. I'm not allowed to talk about that, remember?

GREAT! We've answered some questions! (some meaning, like, two)

Now onto a Fun Part™! (It's not fun. Honestly, writing this makes me feel horrible. The things pro heroes cover up, no kids should EVER go through ANY of what I'm writing about.)

So far, Enji's been in the wrong... probably 80% of the time? Some of it (20%) can be marked down as 'concerned parent,' but the rest... yeah.

Anyway! Let's address a concerning topic. There are a few things I'm going to be talking back and going back to QUITE a bit:

- Shouto's refusal to use his fire in the Sports Festival last year (earlier this year? time is a concept, and i'm not familiar with it)

- The difference in personality with the Todoroki trio. (i'd say quartet, but my boss says i'm not allowed to interview a villain, and also. all of these. are still speculation. please pay me)

- How Endeavor (#1 hero. i keep bringing that up just to reiterate who exactly is the current face of the hero world and WHY THE FUCK IS HE STILL TH-) addresses his children

Where were we again? Let me check.

Oh yeah, before I start yelling about Enji being a piece of shit, I'm going to say a few things about myself. This article is very unorthodox, and I shouldn't... technically do this? BUT I'm already gonna lose my job! So, onwards and upwards, y’all:

- My name is Ella.

- I work for a really well-known (and lovely) publishing company, as a writer and editor.

- I get paid XXXXX a year. Which is okay, and better than some other companies, but I'm still... not getting anything out of this, so you can't say I was paid to write this. If anything, I'm LOSING money by writing this. (but i'm in too deep to stop now, so...)

- My hands hurt a lot from writing this. I've written it all in about an hour, but the research has taken me WEEKS. W E E K S, I TELL YOU-

 Todoroki Shouto (15, Half-Cold Half-Hot emitter quirk, aptly named) is a student at UA. He is in class 1-A, the Hero Course. He's been involved with many mainstream villain attacks, such as the USJ invasion, the Stain + Hosu event, and All Might's last stand.

 Shouto's personality can be seen as cold and standoffish, and the media likes to depict him as an aloof pretty boy. Please keep in mind, he's... been through a lot. And I'm speculating that he's been through more than anyone's actually THOUGHT about before. Kudos to him.

 In the Sports Festival in Shouto's first year, his fight with Midoriya Izuku was ALL OVER THE NEWS. The green haired “no bones about it” kid had gotten Todoroki "I'm not using half of my power" Shouto to use his fire. Nobody knows the exact content of the fight, but it's worth mentioning that Shouto smiled during it. Full-on GRINNED.

(the more i think about that... the sadder it is? kid didn't look like he’d smiled very much. ever, actually. WHY COULD THAT BE-)

 Speculation as to why Shouto didn't actually use his fire during the first events (and according to his classmates Asui Tsuyu and Kirishima Eijirou, he hadn't used it all YEAR. not even during the USJ invasion) was rampant through hero forums. Popular theories included:

- Shouto didn't want to one-up his classmates, so he restricted his power to make it fair. (which is understandable, but.... hon.... how likely is that. the damn MOTTO is ‘plus ultra’)

- Shouto was told not to by his father, and didn't, as some kind of rite of passage. (which is a whole NEW kind of 'what the fuck, enji' and i'm just. not touching that theory)

- My personal and biased favorite: Shouto was rebelling against his father after being pressured to surpass him and be even greater. (which, fair. honestly, any kind of intense pressure ESPECIALLY from a high-profile parent is stressful. take music lessons, for example! kids are gonna give up if they're forced to do shit! come ON, endeavor)

Endeavor (in MULTIPLE) interviews, has referred to Shouto as 'his masterpiece,' or 'his greatest work,' or other terrifying names. Honestly. Children aren't property, and although quirks are tossed around like clothes in a washing machine, their uses don't justify the treatment of their people. Especially with all the stigma surrounding "villainous" quirks. (WHICH IS BULLSHIT, OKAY? quirks aren't inherently villainous. sure, some are a little less flashy and virtuous, but fear is irrelevant! it's what you choose to do with what you have that matters. choices affect content of character, not predetermined morality)

BACK ON TOPIC. I'm not sorry. I feel like I could write a whole separate article on why villainous quirks don't actually exist? Should I? Hell yeah. I will, eventually.

Endeavor's blatant favoritism of Shouto is highlighted by the way he talks about his other children. By that, I'm referring to the fact that he outright DOESN'T. Not one WORD on Natsuo's confirmed cure for quirk burns. Not ONE WORD on Fuyumi's (SIX) teaching awards.

 And, most concerningly?

Endeavor has refused to allow Todoroki Rei to leave the mental hospital she was put into (10 YEARS AGO) although she's passed EVERY SINGLE examination. (fuck, i'm not allowed to talk about that. OH WELL if i go i'm going OUT)

 Shouto has affirmed that he doesn't want to work under his father, and will likely be joining a separate agency in the event of immediate hero work after graduation. He sort of implied that his father didn't know when to stop, but then left the interview.

"Didn't know when to stop? Stop what, Ella?" Remember how I mentioned some kind of 'training' way early into this? Mmm-hmm.

 I'm going to do some extreme hand-waving here. This is ALL speculation, and as of now it's ILLEGAL speculation.  

Back to Touya for a second. The records I found said that he won his match, but lost the semi-final due to intense quirk backlash. The time of the first match was INCREDIBLE. 

 6.3 seconds. Holy... SHIT.

(great job, touya! we're all really proud of you!)

Honestly! That's crazy! Record-breaking, even. Second only to... Shouto.

Second to Shouto. Maybe that's... not the first time Touya's heard that phrase.

Anyway. Training plays a role in this, because the difference in control between Shouto and Touya with fire is barely noticable. They both copy a move (left hand swing and then a full-fire short range blast) from each other. Well, maybe not from each-other.

Let's look into the Hosu fight. Endeavor uses a blue-fire jet-flame attack (can't remember if it has a name, only that it's INTENSE and I would NOT like to be on the receiving end of it), but later with the LoV's monsters (they're called 'noumu'), he uses a very familiar move.

 Left hand swing. Full-fire short range blast.

Only this time, there's no eye flinch or subtle shoulder tense. Only cold, hard, fury.

  What am I implying?

Well, I can't legally talk about THAT, now can I?

Thank you very much for reading this! I picked up this style from a few meta posts in other fandoms; the writer has access to information the reader does NOT, in this case the lack of canon information regarding Dabi’s background and/or schooling. I added headcanons:

-Natuso being quirkless

-Touya going to UA

-Touya being a badass (that’s not really a headcanon, though. he’s related to fuyumi. of course he’s gonna be a badass)

[gotgifsandmusings]

Will you be doing a write up about your thoughts on Solo? Really curious and excited to hear your detailed thoughts on the movie and why you thought it was so bad!

Ideally I’d have had time today for a very thorough write-up or video, but I can at least give my quicker take now.

FULL SPOILERS FOR SOLO BELOW.

I mean...we know where the character ends up.

But still.

FULL SPOILERS FOR SOLO BELOW.

Here we go.

The unofficial tagline of this movie should be, “hey, if you think SJWs are ruining Star Wars, this is the film for you!” Or maybe “If you’re still really really angry about the EU being nixed, come watch Solo.” And most definitely, “If you feel TLJ ruined the integrity and fiber of SW by ‘shitting on the fans’, pandering to liberals, or giving us Rose Tico, grab a bucket of popcorn!”

(And yes, I know TLJ is polarizing from all sides of the fanbase.)

This was, without question, a movie that plays into all the worst instincts of the white, male gatekeepery segment of the SW fanbase. And I mean, it’s a fucking Han Solo prequel; I sort of expected misplaced badass worship going into this, because most people seem to miss that Han is an adorable puppy dog.

Now, to be clear, I honestly went in with an open mind. I was never particularly excited this movie existed, since Han is the second most boring choice from the OT for a prequel (Luke clearly being the first). However, after learning Ron Howard took over and seeing the trailer, I had a feeling that while I wasn’t likely to love this movie, it might still give me a fun ride.

It was so weirdly not fun at all. Like, it’s paced very strangely. We’ve got Han’s opening sequence where he escapes Corellia (and leaves his gf behind), a sequence that sort of catches us up to his time as an imperial soldier (they mention him getting kicked out of the navy in one sentence, and given that’s where he learned to fly, it felt strange) and defects because he hates these purposeless horrifying wars (that’s why you always bring a clone!) and meets Chewy in the process (oh hey he happens to speak Wookiee), a train robbery sequence where we watch Thandie Newton get squandered and we’re not given any real reason to care about this being successful (they tried with some bullshit that he could go back to Corellia for his gf with the money, but that relationship was never exactly established), the Kessel run team assembly and run after meeting the Crimson Dawn organization (and surprise...his gf!), and then what I guess is the final showdown following the Kessel run that involves “betrayals” with people who never promised each other anything, set-up for a Qi’ra spinoff with Darth Maul (??), Han being totally onboard with the rebellion but he won’t go with them for reasons, and then the final winning the Falcon scene to fill in all the gaps, as he heads to Tatooine to go work for Jabba right away.

So, there’s all these pieces, and it kind of has the feeling of playing through a level in a video game. You’re sitting waiting for the next cut-scene, because during the mission itself, there’s not any reason to particularly care about the stakes. I suppose you vaguely want Han to survive, and Lando, but there’s really nothing that this movie seeks to say or explore other than “here’s what happened.”

Which just...isn’t centered around a character worth that exploration, I’m sorry. Han begins the OT as a “look out for myself” struggling smuggler, and very quickly finds himself compelled by something greater than himself. This movie couldn’t get him there, but then they couldn’t think of a reason how to not get him there, so he just randomly chooses to go off and be a pirate.

The one tenuous thread is “trust nobody,” and surprise surprise, his romanticized teenage girlfriend has ambition in a crime organization and after telling Han she’s going off with him, she doesn’t. But there’s nothing that connects that moment to Han then going and giving over the fuel to the Rebel Alliance that had showed without asking for anything in return. Also, after that moment, Han is stranded on a planet that has nothing but desert lean-tos and an oil refinery. The whole movie he was just trying to get to a place where he could be ‘free’ and ‘explore’ or something (like a Disney Princess?), driven by his great love. There’s really nothing that would have logically stopped him from becoming a rebel at that point in time. Was it distrust? Because then why did he just hand over the fuel out of the goodness of his heart? 

Sorry, this is a rabbit hole. Things happened because they happened. The great untold story of Han Solo is apparently “I got dumped by a girl I didn’t think would dump me, and that made me a sad loner for 20 years.” To be frank, there’s really nothing that particularly connects this character to Han Solo in ANH. Other than significant dice ownership, I guess.

What makes it worse is that there’s so much idiotic “AHA, we filled in THIS moment!” Like, the music literally swells any time something ~iconic~ from the OT happens. Han gets handed his blaster (it’s literally a random gun) and we recognize it. MUSIC!! Chewie sits in the copilot’s seat. MUSIC!!! The dialogue is even clunkier than that. “Chewbacca, huh? I’m going to need to think of a nickname for you.” “You’re the good guy, Han.” “I know a gangster on Tatooine who always is looking for work.” I have never groaned or rolled my eyes more during a film than I did for this one.

It’s the anal “every detail needs explanation” style of writing that plagued the EU, and kind of led the SW fandom to that stupid, curative gatekeepery vibe it held for so long. Not one single thing actually pushed on any ideas of the OT, or took a remote risk, or was even inventive. 

Then there was the very angry stick the writers decided to shake. You know who sucks? SJWs. Let’s make them a big ol’ joke! So we had a droid that was for droid-rights, in a very “played for laughs” kind of way. At one point Lando asks if she needs anything, and she says “equality?”, and he just rolls his eyes. At another point she starts a droid and slave revolt on Kessel, and he’s like, “oh that stupid droid is at it again!” Quite literally a straw-feminist who got in the way, was so shrill and annoying with her demands, and then got herself blown up. Lando even full on says he would have had her memory wiped, but she has useful navigational information.

And really, the whole movie just felt pandering to the fans who would appreciate those jokes. The ~sanctity~ of Star Wars and Han wasn’t touched or questioned in any way, and written with such self-congratulatory dialogue it was legitimately embarrassing to watch.

My favorite example is the Darth Maul scene. It’s not really work getting into, but at the end, Qi’ra talks with him via hologram, and he’s the leader of a crime organization sorta in league with the empire. (Does he know Palps was Sidious?) It’s very clearly Maul, but first he lowers his hood. Get it? Then he stands up and shows us his robot legs. Get it??? Then he force-calls his lightsaber to him for literally no reason, because the conversation is basically her pledging her devotion and not needing to be convinced or threatened in any way. THEN he lights it up and it’s his iconic double-sided blade. GET IT????

I could not stop laughing, and Griffin ended up having to poke me in the sides because I think the people in the row were starting to turn around. 

I honestly think this is a worse film than the prequels. There was no reason for it to exist, and no story it was even trying to tell. Lucas’s story was pretty terrible for Anakin and the rise of the Empire, but at least it existed. It also felt kind of revenge-fic-ish in a way that’s sort of hard to articulate.

Donald Glover was the one shining spot of the movie (even if he uncomfortably had to roll his eyes at the concept of equal rights), and it really just makes me sad it wasn’t his prequel in the first place. 

Also, Qi’ra is the most non-character character I’ve seen yet. She has pretty much no personality, and then the big ~reveal~ at the end that she betrays Han is kind of like, “okay?”, since we have no grasp on what she’s been up to, or what her motivations are at all. We know she thinks Han is hot. That’s it.

Anonymous said to gotgifsandmusings:

Is Solo trying too hard to be Guardians of the Galaxy?

No, it demands to be taken seriously. Which is not helping its cause.

I guess this ended up being longer than I expected. I really was in the mood to see something that was just kind of, “eh, this isn’t great, but it’s fun enough,” and at worst I expected it to be in the “meh” category. Instead, I was actively cringing in my seat. My best hope is that I can appreciate it ironically in a few years. 

[charliejrogers]

Best of 2017

Below is my list of the 40 best movies of 2017. Why 40? Because that’s all the movies I saw. In full disclosure, I have a life and must attend school so I didn’t get to see every notable release this year, so if you’re wondering why Thor: Ragnorok, Coco, Mother!, Jumanji, Justice League, I Tonya, Disaster Arist, or Blade Runner aren’t on the list… it’s because I didn’t get to see them. And also in full disclosure, I did get to watch the first half of Battle of the Sexes but fell asleep for the second half. That fact is not indicative of that film’s quality - I was just really tired when I saw it - but it didn’t feel right rating a movie I’d only seen the first half of. So without further ado, here’s my list.

0.5/4.0 Stars

40 The Little Hours

1.5/4.0 Stars

39 Guardians of the Galaxy 2

2.0/4.0 Stars

38 Beauty & the Beast

37 Okja

2.5/4.0 Stars

36 The Trip to Spain

35 A Ghost Story

34 Kong: Skull Island

33 Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

32 Dunkirk

31 Logan Lucky

30 American Made

29 Lost City of Z

28 Phantom Thread

3.0/4.0 Stars

27 It

26 Lady Macbeth

25 Ingrid Goes West

24 Call Me By Your Name

23 Spider-Man: Homecoming

22 Detroit

21 Brad’s Status

20 Logan

19 Wind River

18 War for the Planet of the Apes

3.5/4.0 Stars

17 Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi

16 The Meyerowitz Stories: New and Selected

15 Get Out

14 The Post

13 Wonder Woman

12 The Lego Batman Movie

11 Darkest Hour

10 The Beguiled

9 Mudbound

8 Shape of Water

4.0/4.0 Stars

7 Sanctuary

6 The Big Sick

5 The Florida Project

4 Baby Driver

3 Columbus

2 Good Time

1 Lady Bird

Do you disagree with the list? Well check out below to see my thoughts on each of the films.

40 The Little Hours

This movie is wholly terrible. It’s jokes include extended sequences of rape, sexual manipulation, and cruel beatings. Please don’t let the truly all-star cast fool you, this movie sucks.

Movies that had probably had some great scenes but were overall not satisfying: (1.5-2 stars)

39 Guardians of the Galaxy 2

The sophomore slump hit Star Lord & co. hard. Compared to the grand set pieces of the first film, the isolated focus on Quill and his father really hindered the fun, action-packed hi-jinks fans expected from the first film. The soundtrack almost single handedly prevented this from being an outright terrible movie.

38 Beauty & the Beast

It will be interesting in the long run to compare the quality of these live-action remakes to the animated originals. Jungle Book was great, but it helped that it’s source material was a superficial 60s musical with lots of room for expansion. Beauty & the Beast was heralded as a masterpiece back in 1991, even being nominated for an Oscar for best picture. Not best animated picture. BEST PICTURE. The Emma Watson version? Not so much. It’s boring.

37 Okja

Snowpiercer is an awesome movie. It’s perfectly paced world building combined beautifully with its creative action sequences (creative both in terms of plotting and in filming). The second English-language film from director Bong Joon-Ho? Nowhere as good. Maybe I’m too jaded… but I didn’t feel any real connection to the titular Beast (the hippo/cow named Okja) or the dangers it faced. And Tilda Swinton (who was fantastic in Snowpiercer) is too abrasive and, frankly, too odd to be taken seriously as a person. And that’s to say nothing of Jake Gyllenhal’s lunatic of a character. Skip it.

Just shy of being good, but are Solid movies.(2.5 stars)

36 The Trip to Spain

It’s kind of hard to fault Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon in any meaningful way, since anyone who has seen the first two movies in this trilogy knows exactly what to expect (and really, who but anyone who has seen the first two movies would see this?). They know to expect impressions of famous British actors by two very talented impression artists. They know to expect two actors playing irritatingly arrogant caricatures of themselves. And they know to expect a movie devoid of plot, purpose, and interesting dialogue. That said, you come for the impressions, and Coogan and Brydon will always deliver on those (Mick Jagger and David Bowie being my two favorite additions to the duo’s repertoire.) just don’t expect much else.

35 A Ghost Story

This whole movie seemed to walk the line between a solid indie movie and a parody of a self-important movie. The central gimmick of the film involves Casey Affleck spending the vast majority of the film under a white sheet following his character’s death as the character’s ghost continues to pine after a love lost. When the film focuses on the futility of grief (particular in scenes where Rooney Mara is involved), it is moving. When it tries to make larger philosophical statements about what it means to inhabit land, it gets silly.

34 Kong: Skull Island

I watched this movie hoping to see some cool action sequences of King Kong and dinosaurs. It delivered, though no dinosaurs, but “Skeleton Walkers”. Cool Vietnam War-era atmosphere. The Samuel L. Jackson character is so angry towards Kong as to defy logical sense and the plot is threadbare, but John C. Reilly does wonders when he enters the film midway for comic relief.

33 Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri

I wanted to like this movie more. I tried to like it more. It has so much going for it: A pair of knock out performances by Frances McDormand and Woody Harrelson, often fascinating and engaging dialogues and monologues a la the Coen Brothers, and an intriguing premise in a mother trying to discover her daughter’s murderer. It falls apart for me because many of the supporting characters are more caricature than people, especially the insufferable bigoted police officer played by Sam Rockwell. The film is far more interested in developing the character of this unwatchable man than in ever dealing with the McDormand character’s grief, and Harrelson exits the film far too early. There are individual scenes that shine, but the sum of the film’s parts falls flat.

32 Dunkirk

I like Christopher Nolan. I really do. That said, I haven’t liked anything that he’s done since 2010. Dark Knight Rises was bloated, and Interstellar somehow doubled down on the bloat. Dunkirk, while beautifully shot and containing some truly gripping looks at the brutality of war, just never clicked with me. I particularly found the film’s tripartite structure, jumping between three stories whose chronological length differed significantly, more distracting than revelatory.

31 Logan Lucky

Appropriately nicknamed “Seven Eleven,” Steven Soderberg’s first heist movie since the Ocean’s trilogy adapts the standard caper film tropes to a down-to-Earth, working-class West Virginia setting. It’s unclear throughout if Soderberg is mocking his blue collar characters’ way of life or celebrating it, and the humor, particularly in scenes between Channing Tatum and Adam Driver, never quite clicks. But Logan Lucky probably includes the most intelligent, clever, and fun-to-watch heist in any movie. Period. If only the movie were even half as smart and entertaining as the heist it is about.

30 American Made

Doug Liman, The Director of American Made, so badly and clearly wants people to confuse this film with something from the Scorsese catalog. But this is a poor man’s Wolf of Wall Street or Goodfellas. It tries to glorify and legitimize the life of a criminal, and it hits all the highlights. It’s loosely (very loosely) based on real life smuggler Barry Seal. There’s clever heists and crimes. Shady dealings. A big budget plane crash into a suburban neighborhood. And all of it is shot and directed with a fun, vivacious energy. The problem is that this film fails to hit the hard emotional punches. There’s no equivalent to Joe Pesce “getting made” or even a real sense of come-uppance that eventually hit Jordan Belford. There’s a montage in this movie of Tom Cruise scared to start his car due to fear it’s been rigged to explode. What could have been a tone-altering sequence for the film that would bestow a great deal of gravitas, is used for laughs. And that’s about all you need to know about this movie. It’s entertaining and probably worth watching, and Tom Cruise is as cocky as ever in the lead role, but there’s nothing under the surface.

29 Lost City of Z

The is the most action-less adventure story ever told. The life of British explorer Percy Fawcett (Charlie Hunnam) and his explorations through the South American Amazon plays out at about the speed of a turtle. I’m not gonna say I was ever bored, because I wasn’t, but I was kind of waiting the whole movie for something exciting to happen and it never does. The film makes being captured by natives look as routine as a DMV visit. The movie is divided into a few key locations. There’s Britain where Fawcett spends so little of his life and where his wife (Sienna Miller as a progressive woman railing against the monotony of housewifery) and children lives. There’s The Amazon, and there’s briefly France for Fawcett’s stint as an officer in WWI. As you’ll be unsurprised if you’ve glanced at my review of Wonder Woman below, that the WWI section was my favorite. Perhaps it’s my fault for expecting something more out action of this film, but I think it even fails on the grounds of what it tries to be: a character study. Fawcett’s character is so thinly drawn and his motivations so weak, that when his son (Tom Holland) calls him out on it it’s a breath of fresh air - but then his son and wife later validates his motivations and the movie makes him out to be an unqualified hero - a champion of viewing Natives as more than savages. Fawcett did incredible things in his life, sure, but I don’t think he’s any hero. I don’t know - the movie could have been better.

28 Phantom Thread

The first half of this movie I consider excitingly British-boring, like an episode of Downton Abbey or The Crown. High class British people of the past dealing with first world problems, if well acted, well costumed, and well written, will always be entertaining to me no matter if what’s at stake is who will marry whom or, in this case, whether a dress will be ready on time. But the first half of the movie particularly shines because Daniel Day-Lewis plays the stereotypical controlling genius who society forgives because he’s so brilliant to the T. He’s insufferable, petty, emotionally stunted, and a joy to watch. And the whole first half of the film builds to a moment where Lewis’ girlfriend, a meek waitress played by Vicky Krieps, calls him out on all his bullshit. In the midst of the #MeToo era, her speech railing against his dominating, controlling behavior feels entirely appropriate. And as an audience member you expect the movie to go in a certain direction in the second half… and it doesn’t. At the risk of spoilers I won’t say more, but your response to film’s plot in its second act will be the deciding factor about whether or not you enjoy this film. For me, I did not, which is a shame because I liked the first half so much.

Good, not great movies:(3 stars)

27 It

I have never seen the original It movie or read the book, but based on the infamous boat scene that circulated virally on YouTube and the premise of a killer ghost clown… I wasn’t too pumped to see It. I happily had my expectations reversed. It is perhaps unfair to say the movie borrows from Stranger Things since that show definitely borrows heavily from Stephen King, but it’s hard to deny the similarities between the two 1980s set stories of kids against a cosmic beast. It featured incredible performances from its teenaged cast, with Jaeden Lieberher truly shining as the lead, but overall the movie felt overly long and oddly enough lacking the tension required of a remarkable thriller. Plus, I had far too many questions leaving the theater about the nature of Pennywise and so on for it to qualify as having a completely coherent plot. But as far as coming of age movies disguised as horror movies go, when It focused on the kids and less on Pennywise it was entirely engrossing.

26 Lady Macbeth

Lady Macbeth was a fascinating little film out of the UK about the extents (often violent) one woman would go to achieve freedom in an incredibly oppressive patriarchy. At just 22 Florence Pugh turns in a masterful performance of a woman wracked with guilt but full of pride in her freedom. She’s at once both sympathetic and monstrous, and watching her go from one to the other is worthy of the film’s Shakespearean title. Only complaint was that the movie, despite being only 90 minutes still felt it dragged a little in places.

25 Ingrid Goes West

What an interesting movie. Aubrey Plaza still seems to be playing the same Aubrey Plaza character she’s played in literally everything she’s been in, but this time it’s different. Rather than accepting Plaza’s character’s usual eccentric behavior as just par for the course, in Ingrid Goes West, these same behaviors are frightening. Obsessive, sociopathic, paranoid. That is the character Aubrey Plaza plays as her Ingrid travels Westward with the inheritance from her mother’s demise to emulate and become Taylor Sloane - a wonderfully basic Elizabeth Olson - someone she found on Instagram - avocado toast and all. As a movie that tries to make a statement about the ill-effects of social media on society, the movie falls flat. But viewed in the line of movies like Taxi Driver, Nightcrawler, etc. that is, movies that present the inner workings of sociopaths, Ingrid Goes West is an admirable demonstration of what Travis Bickle would look like in 2017. Also, poor O’Shea Jackson Jr. All his character wanted was to talk about Batman - and instead Ingrid ruins his life. Sad!

24 Call Me By Your Name

I’ve struggled to rate this movie fairly. One the one hand, I found it kind of boring. I found what the characters and movie deemed a meaningful relationship between Elio and Oliver to be based on little more than the fact that both were open to male on male sex. Their dialogue was supposed to come off as playfully hostile and full of sexual tension, but i just saw Oliver, played by Hammer, playing hard to get a little too well. Maybe I just wasn’t picking up the signs, but to my eyes it never seemed like Oliver ever liked Elio. On the other hand, it was a beautifully shot movie, included a scene about IndoEuropean etymology, and another about Greek bronze sculpture. Plus, Michael Stuhlbarg’s heartbreaking speech towards the end (you know which one) almost single handedly prevents this from being rated lower on this list. Thus, I left the movie thinking a lot, which is always a sign that the movie had done something right. Particularly it raised questions about and shed light on the nature, often awkward, of coming out. And for that, I recognize the movie’s importance and beauty. But that doesn’t mean it was my favorite movie to watch this year.

23 Spider-Man: Homecoming

Now for something completely different. Spider-Man: Homecoming is the definition of a mindless, fun summer blockbuster. Tom Holland shines it what is essentially a high-school action movie. It had cool action sequences (Washington Monument) and laughs (thanks Martin Starr - perhaps the best person to to cast as a nerdy high school teacher - , the school’s PA announcements, and the film’s new Spider-Man sidekick… some kid named Ned). Plus the movie’s villainous twist was legitimately a surprise in the best way. That said, Michael Keaton’s Vulture had some questionably plausible motives, with the theme of forgetting about the working class feeling a bit cliche in this film. It’s a real issue, but the movie didn’t really treat it like one. Still, I can’t wait for Spider-Man: Prom as Marvel’s first take at a high school movie was a success, even if it did little to reinvent the wheel.

22 Detroit

Detroit is a movie that tests your endurance and tolerance for brutality. Based on the historical Algiers Motel incident during the contentious race riots in 1967 Detroit, the movie is less about the incident as it is director Katherine Bigelow’s recreation of the event itself. This movie is like if you pieced together all of the scenes from a recreation typically found in a true crime documentary, and then left out the documentary narrative piece. As a result, the movie has little nuance (besides a beautiful opening animating sequence detailing the Great Migration.) Instead viewers are “treated” to two hours of raw violence. It’s not entertaining, and it’s hardly art, but it is engrossing. It stretches the imagination that some people could be so cruel and that more could be so permissive of such cruelty seen here, but at the end of the day 3 black teens ended up dead and nine others beaten… so I can grant Katherine Bigelow some leeway in how the lead racist cop in her film is portrayed as being the devil incarnate. It’s a powerful movie - just not one you’ll want to watch again.

21 Brad’s Status

If your biggest fear is that you’ll never satisfy your life’s largest ambitions… Brad’s Status is the movie for you. Ben Stiller as Brad is a guy who by all measures has a fine life - a loving wife, comfortable job, and a smart kid… any complaint he has is, by definition, a first world problem… but when he sees his old college buddies go on to become uber-successful… well, anyone is bound to get jealous. The movie is a great look at the emptiness so many feel with the direction of their lives, and Ben Stiller as Brad is perfectly cast as an understandable neurotic. While the movie does a great job of setting up Brad’s dilemma over his lack of status, it perhaps “solves” the issue a little lazily. It turns out his “successful” friends? They’re all jerks, crooks, or unhappy… so again we learn that money corrupts… an answer which doesn’t entirely satisfy the audience… or Brad.

20 Logan

If Deadpool showed how an R-rated superhero could look if you think R-rated = potty-mouth… Logan decided to show us what R-rated means in terms of violence. The opening scene where our “hero” eviscerates some gangsters by the side of a desert road is phenomenally beautiful. And the movie remains as bleak throughout - as well as, perhaps surprisingly, very thoughtful. Every scene with Patrick Stewart was beautiful. Beautiful because of his performance, but also because of how smartly written and well-paced his character’s story unfolded. What do you do when a man who could bring the world to its knees with his mind… gets Alzheimer’s? That Stewart was not even in the discussion for an Oscar baffles me. I legitimately lose interest in the film the moment Stewart stops playing as big a role about ¾ of the way through. It’s still a good movie after that point, but the story of mutant kids revolting against their slave drivers holds less power and realism than the story of a powerful man coming to grips with his dementia.

19 Wind River

Hell or High Water was, for me, the surprise hit of 2016, and when I found out that writer Taylor Sheridan was both writing and directing this film I saw it as soon as I could. While the movie may drag in a few spots here and there, it’s a pretty powerful movie about grief. It shares many story beats with Three Billboards but frankly I think this film does a much, much better job of staying focused on what’s most important. No, not the moral awakening of some insufferably racist cop, but the injustice of a girl’s life being ripped away from her family. And, more importantly, the impact that has upon an already depressed community. I don’t know how many movies there are that highlight the ironic contemporary struggle of Native Americans to get by in what should be their own land, but i don’t think there are many others. And for that fact alone Wind River deserves to be seen. While I’ve thus far talked like this movies a masterpiece it’s not. It drags a bit, Jeremy Renner’s character is both a little boring and a little too unbelievably good at his job, and Elizabeth Olsen’s character is a little bit too unbelievably inept at hers. But Sheridan crafts scripts whose violence is so genuinely shocking (no doubt in one place due to a perfectly placed flashback towards the end of the film) that you actually drop your jaw. You’ve seen thousands of people get shot in movies, but never quite like here.

18 War for the Planet of the Apes

Of all the major blockbuster franchises to be churned out these days, few have had the boldness to be both entertaining and artful. The first 15 minutes of Dawn of the Planet of the Apes should be taught at all film schools as the prime example of world building without needing a single spoken word of dialogue. I think overall I liked the new War for the Planet of the Apes a little less than its predecessor, but still more than the reboot’s first entry, Rise of the Planet of the Apes. For starters, this is a long movie and it didn’t need to be so long. That said, it has some of the best symbolism and beautifully structured motifs of any major blockbuster out there. Caesar is at times a Christ figure, a new Moses, and a slave in revolt, and the movie does a fantastic job of never letting these themes lay on too thick. And for a movie about apes, most of the sympathy undoubtedly comes from Andy Serkis. He deserves some sort of award for his work as Caesar… his facial ticks say a million things and more. Combined with the cinematography of the icy blue winter fortress, it’s a beauty to behold. Had the movie been a little tighter, it could have been that much better, but as is there’s still much to enjoy.

Great, fucking movies:(3.5 stars)

17 Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi

By far the most divisive film of 2017, The Last Jedi was… a fine film. Like for every illogical plot point, for every cringeworthily forced joke, for every time that Mark Hamil didn’t know how to act, for every unnecessary venture onto the casino Planet, for every time Leia was a force zombie… I still walked away from the movie feeling satisfied. The action was good and The plot included legitimate surprises. Rian Jonson is many things, but a poor plotter is not one of them. Plus I was just so attracted to the film’s overwhelming feeling of abject failure. Blockbusters are supposed to lift us up and give us hope… but this movie presented an interesting antithesis to all that, even more so than its spiritual predecessor Empire Strikes Back. This movie will and has already been picked apart to death… but I think if someone walked into this movie knowing little about the Jedi, the Force, or who shot first, they would find an entertaining blockbuster and that’s what I saw. Perhaps not the best Star Wars movie… but a fine film.

16 The Meyerowitz Stories: New and Selected

Adam Sandler can act? Who knew! I did! I’ve seen Click! Anyways, this was a very good movie all around. There are top notch performances from all of its leads, with a special shout out to the quiet Elizabeth Marvel and the terrifyingly unemotional Hoffman. The films plot focused on three adults’ differing relationships with their father (Dustin Hoffman) an overbearing father and aging sculptor who failed to achieve any success. The script is superb and beautifully crafted. The whole movie can be summed up in three scenes, with each scene showing a different of the three children running. In one, Sandler is running to catch up to his Dad, representing how his character always felt like he had to prove himself to his father. In another Stiller is running in front of his father, just as his character has tried to escape the overbearing smothering pressure of his father. And thirdly Marvel’s character runs from danger but her father plays no role - she unlike her brothers has managed to shed the shadow of her father. The movie has some missteps in failed jokes (Sandler’s daughter’s movies?) and is a little long which keep it from being an instant classic, but it’s very well done.

15 Get Out

The best horror movie In a decade isn’t much of a horror movie. There are few jump scares and there’s hardly a real enough sense of danger to raise the audience’s blood pressure. But as a drama that intends to say a thing or two about America’s racial issues, this is a damn good movie. The script is extremely well-crafted and the story’s mysteries unfold in such an organic way. You’ll have thought you have it all figured out at least 3 times before the truth is revealed, and the “truth” actually makes sense and appears unforced unlike the twists in many movies of this type. There’s an alternate ending to this film you can find online where Director Peele could have pushed this movie to make a stronger statement about race… I wish he had. He used a half-measure when he should have used a full measure. The movie as a whole can be a little slow at times… but the ending action sequence and the film’s tone and message throughout more than make up for it.

14 The Post

The best newspaper movies are those that are procedural. Films like Spotlight or All the President’s Men made you feel like you were part of the investigation, highlighting the excitement and importance of mundane tasks like combing through directories of priests or tracking down witnesses that ultimately lead to giant breakthroughs. The Post has none of this. The Pentagon Papers literally fall into the lap of the Washington Post and Nixon’s paranoia ensures that The Post will be the only paper with the opportunity to publish. So it’s not a newspaper movie in that it’s not about investigative journalism so much as about the people who run the newspapers and their commitment to the first amendment. As a result, it’s preachy and a little too on the nose for those of us bombarded daily with claims of fake news. That said, it’s still Spielberg so it’s incredibly well-crafted and entertaining and Meryl Streep is fantastic in drawing out the complexity of Kay Graham. And who doesn’t love seeing Bob Odenkirk and David Cross side by side?

13 Wonder Woman

The undersaturation of the movie market with movies about World War I is a shame. Compare it with World War II which has a minimum of 4 movies a year… always. But where WWII is so often portrayed as the heroic triumph of good over evil or dives into the heinousness of the Holocaust, rarely does it get the chance to just pause and question the brutality of war itself. World War I doesn’t have that problem. There was no Hitler, no Nazis, no Holocaust. Just rulers and treaties that led to the senseless loss of life. And it’s this that movies like Joyeux Noel, War Horse, and now Wonder Woman have captured beautifully. Yes, Wonder Woman is a movie about immortal beings and super heroes with lassos of truth… but at its root it’s about the disgusting fact that humans inflict mass pain on each other based on the lightest of pretenses. The movie has a villain… but humanity is the real evil. The plot was smartly put together, the scenery and costumes nail the period, and the budding romance between Chris Pine and Gal Gadot is a treat to watch. But it’s film’s depiction of the senselessness of war (embodied in Wonder Woman’s shell-shocked Scottish companion.) that really sold me. This movie was far more moving than it deserved to be for a silly super hero movie, but it deserves its praise.

12 The Lego Batman Movie

Perhaps this of all the choices on this list will be the one to not age well… but when I saw this movie I was thoroughly pleased. Not only was it an entertaining and funny beyond a “kid’s” film, it was a parodic love letter to the Caped Crusader. I did not see 2017’s Justice League… but I can safely say this is the best Batman movie since 2008’s Dark Knight. The whole plot of this Lego movie is in fact a direct play on a line of dialogue from The Dark Knight. There the Joker tells Batman, “You complete me,” a line which in its context embodies a central theme throughout Batman lore: does Batman exist because Gotham is full of criminals, or is Gotham full of criminals because Batman attracts them. Here though, the line is taken at face value in its pseudo-romantic sense - Joker pledges his “love” for Batman and here he gets denied. And the world hath seen no wrath as a Joker scorned. It’s a funny set-up that leads to a fun who’s-who of villains from across the Batverse and beyond. The film is anchored in the now-classic Lego movie sense of humor. Special props to Will Arnett’s arrogant, self-centered turn as the lead and to Michael Cera’s bubblingly boyish Dick Grayson/Robin. The two have a perfect comedic give and take. It’s as if the whole movie is a side project of Arrested Development with a young George Michael Bluth playing along with the delusional fantasies of his Uncle GOB. Tobias would of course be Mr. Freeze - he already blued himself.

11 Darkest Hour

Who was Winston Churchill? I’m still not quite sure. The movie presented him as a drunk, surely, but also scared, crude, abrasive, confused, a little Alzheimer’s-y at times… but the least I can say is that he deserved my respect by the end of the film and that’s what the movie wanted from me. Gary Oldman is amazing in this movie and other people could speak more eloquently about his performance. But he’s not alone and Ben Mendehlsson as King George and Stephen Dillane as the preposterously prissy Lord Halifax deserve special praise. Lily James as Churchill’s secretary does not though… her role was kinda pointless… But what really caught my eye about this movie is it’s beautiful cinematography. The movie plays with light and dark so well - fitting for its title. Plus the movie tells the story of the Dunkirk travesty from such an interesting perspective. The knowledge of Hitler’s ultimate intentions today make it difficult to swallow arguments of the past that peace might have been possible, but the film does a great job of establishing tension in a conflict where everyone in the audience knows the resolution. There are times when you wonder along with Churchill whether peace might be worth pursuing. However, if you, like me, enjoy getting your history from film, You’ll likely be saddened as i was to learn that the scene where Churchill goes into the Tube and talks to the common folk for inspiration was all made up for the movie… still, the scene’s pretty magical to watch. So everyone plays their roles to the T and the pictures are pretty. If that’s not enough for you, just watch this as an antidote to watching the lifeless Dunkirk. Ugh. Fuck Dunkirk.

10 The Beguiled

This is an extremely moody, brooding film that sticks with much you longer than you’d think. It’s really a short, little movie at only 94 minutes long, but director Sophia Coppola packs that time full of lust-filled intrigue and tension. If you ever wonders what happens when a house full of sexually repressed women in the 1860s encounters a wounded soldier who’s happy to “please”… the answer is not a lot of good. This is not a porno. If anything this movie takes a male fantasy and turns it into a nightmare. Elle Fanning, Kirsten Dunst, and Nicole Kidman play a fearfully tempting trio, each approaching the mysterious figure of Colin Farrell with their own motivations. Elle as a young woman exploring her sexuality, Kirsten as a woman sheltered for too long and yearns for the companionship, while Kidman as the older woman wants to feel love again… yet Colin cannot have all three and tries anyways… and the result is chilling and creepy reminder that you don’t mess with the heart of a woman. It’s Like Gone Girl in this sense, but better because this movie’s actually rewatchable and the perspective is entirely female-centric.

9 Mudbound

Somewhere online this movie is described as “literary in the best sense” and that’s about all you need to know about this movie. It’s a sprawling character-based epic that charts the lives of two families, one white, one black, whose lives continue to intersect while living in the 1940s rural South. Like much of the 19th c. and early 20th c. American literature, the big takeaway is that life in the country is miserable and prone to stagnation (a little stuck in the mud if you will). And Carey Mulligan’s role as a sophisticated woman forced into the staid life on the farm is practically a carbon copy of the main character in Willa Cather’s “Wagner Matinee” - and that’s a good thing. Mary J. Blige looks really cool with her sunglasses but also does a great job acting as the loving matriarch of her family - in fact the whole cast is pretty incredible. However the heart of the film is the friendship that forms between the veterans returning from WWII- one from each family. Garrett Hedlund and Jason Mitchell carry well the invisible wounds of war and the movie does a great job of highlighting the great injustice and indifference our society all too often places upon the plight of veterans - especially those who are also racial minorities. It’s a movie both reflective of its period’s morals, and a reminder of how close in time we are to some of our nation’s worst racially-based hate crimes.

8 Shape of Water

Love comes in all shapes and sizes - a theme Hollywood has pushed on us for decades. But here the trite fairy tale truism is made fresh… precisely because director Guillermo del Toro does not hide the fact that his Shape of Water - though a movie for adults with rather graphic violence and sex - is a fairy tale. Its love is both unbelievable and beautiful. The film tries to say something about the civil rights movement and oppression in its portrayal of the stigmatized relationship between woman and fish monster… but I personally found those parallels a bit wonky. The film works best as a simple story devoid of overt politics. Few scenes this year are as heartwarming as two rain droplets dancing on the side of a bus window as it races through the night or a dance scene between a fish monster and a woman filmed in the black and white style of the grand musicals of Old Hollywood. The movie includes a heist (the best!), Communist intrigue, comedy, and an amazing villain in Michael Shannon. That guy’s face is made to be evil. Sally Hawkins, Octavia Spencer, Michael Stuhlbarg, Richard Jenkins round out a superbly talented cast and the movie is a joy to watch. It was clear this was a work of love for delToro and though it’s not my favorite movie this year it deserves all the praise it gets. It’s a technical and moving marvel

Fantastic films (4 stars)

7 Sanctuary

Of all the movies on this list, I’m gonna bet this is the one you’ve never heard of. I’d never heard of it either. It was an accidental find hidden deep in the Hulu catalog which only attracted my roommate’s and my attentions because it was recently voted the best film in Ireland for 2017 according to some Irish critic’s circle. It was never even released in America. I like Irish film, and I loved this movie. It’s an ambitious project - at least by modern standards. A movie about people with intellectual disabilities, whose cast is mostly filled with people with intellectual disabilities, including like 4 people with Downs Syndrome. It’s part comedy, part rom-com, part romantic-drama, and throughout a tragedy. The movie struggles to find a fine line between viewing it’s largely adult cast of people with intellectual disabilities as people who need to be watched after and people who deserve independence and freedom. And that is not a fault of the movie… in real life finding that balance is hard. The movie has you laughing one moment, crying the other, but at all times forcing this viewer at least to challenge his perceptions of those with intellectual disabilities. It’s a powerful movie, an entertaining one, and one which I think all should see.

6 The Big Sick

Yes, this movie may have committed the worst of comedy movie sins - putting the best joke (the one about 9/11) in the trailer - but that doesn’t stop The Big Sick and it’s plot from surprising. I won’t spoil the plot because it’s best experienced first hand - but one thing I wish I knew going in is that this is fairly closely based on Kumail Nanjiani’s real life, who wrote the film with his wife Emily V. Gordon. I say this because when I first saw this my complaint was that the plot seemed too unbelievable and were this a purely fictional tale I’d be right - but truth is stranger than fiction. The movie has many thematic parallels with the second episode of Aziz Ansari’s Master of None in that the film presents the real pressures faced by children of immigrants to balance wanting to live a “normal” American life without seeming ungrateful or unappreciative of your parents’ culture and the sacrifices they have made to give their kids a better life. Kumail’s mother may be the “villain” from a plotting perspective, but the film is more nuanced than to portray her as heartless. In fact, the incredible love of a parent for their child is palpable throughout, and Ray Romano and Holly Hunter do wonders portraying a couple who though strained will unite to do anything for their daughter. Like life, the characters are realistic, the conflicts have no easy resolution, and it’s equal parts comical and emotional.

5 The Florida Project

Probably one of the best compliments I can bestow upon any piece of art is, “It reminds me of The Wire.” Yes, I am one of those people… deal with it. But what that to me means, is that this particular work of art manages to present an important social problem in a way that has no clear heroes or villains. Rather, it presents real, flawed humans dealing with a terribly shitty social construct. Here, the social construct is poverty - severe, depressing poverty. What are you supposed to do if you have no money, no home, no hopes for the future? You scam, you prostitute, you lie, you do anything to get by. But the characters in the Florida Project aren’t Robin Hoods or Aladdins - lovable thieves. No, they are often ugly people. This is a movie largely about “white trash” America - or rather people we cast aside without a second thought as white trash. However, what makes this movie so brilliant is that it grounds its message in the perspective of a child. Brooklyn Prince is damn near perfect in her role as the six year-old Moonee, the daughter of the aforementioned lying, scamming, destitute woman. By framing the move from Moonee’s view, director Sean Baker allows the movie to be at one moment light-hearted and the next moment heartbreaking. Like The Wire this movie deserves to be taught in any sociology class alongside any textbook. It’s an insightful look at the way the other half lives that’s full of empathetic humanity without providing its characters forgiveness carte blanche. And as entertainment it’s riveting.

4 Baby Driver

I am confident that this movie will not be as good on a second pass, as it’s more of a roller coaster adrenaline rush than artful film, and once you know all the twists and turns the fun will surely be lessened. But that doesn’t stop the first ride through the life of a bank-robbing getaway driver with a heart from being a hell of a good time. Like Patrick Stewart’s snub for Logan, I am legitimately surprised that there was never ANY talk of best director in the cards for Edgar Wright - though it’s probably a little more accurate to call him a choreographer than director as Baby Driver is, for all intents and purposes, an extended music video. Like Wright’s previous work in the Cornetto trilogy, the soundtrack is an eclectic mix of deep tracks from the mainly 60s/70s, but here the music does more than provide a backdrop to the action; it reflects and informs the action. Car chases are coordinated so that the best parts match musical crescendos. Take for example the foot chase towards to the end of the film set perfectly to Hocus Pocus’s “Focus.” The song alternates between a rocking guitar riff and a yodeling breakdown, and Wright appropriately sets the Chase parts to the guitar part and parts where Baby has to hide to the yodel. But calling it a music video perhaps robs the movie of the fact that it created an interesting cast of characters. Yes, it stars Kevin Spacey… but he’s creepy in this movie so at least art reflects life. But more of interest are Jamie Foxx and Jon Hamm as two of Baby’s slightly unhinged compatriots in bank robbing. Ansel Elgort in the title role carries enough charm and heart to capture audiences, and Lily James as the Southern beauty with the heart of gold is just grungy enough to be the perfect match for Baby’s criminal nature. Few movies have ever been this fun to watch with incredibly coordinated car chases, and the plot carries enough twists and turns to keep audiences on their toes.

3 Columbus

This movie is one of those movies where I can’t really put into words why I liked it. The most obvious reason is the movie’s scenery. Set entirely in the small town of Columbus, IN, a real town renowned across the world for its collection of buildings made in the modernist style. The town is shot beautifully and even if the movie weren’t good otherwise, it’d be worth a glance for the pictures. However, the plot is good. It’s a two-for-one with two of my favorite themes. One plot deals with the coming of age of a teenaged girl who’s too smart to get stuck in a dead end town. The other deals with a son comings to terms with his troubled relationship with his father. As I said, the movie is slow and I won’t claim to fully believe that in real life a relationship would have formed between the two main characters - it’s a little forced. But the emotions of the movie are undeniably real and it never feels like melodrama. This is one of the few movies where upon watching I immediately wanted to watch it again.

2 Good Time

Unlike Columbus, I was happy when Good Time ended and did not want to watch it again. It’s not because it’s a bad movie - far from it. But it paints such an ugly, depressing, and frankly terrifyingly real view of humanity that you’re happy when it’s finally over. This is film at its most linear (aside from one notable flashback that ranks among the best flashbacks of all time) and that’s not a complaint. The film’s runs quickly from start to finish like a bullet. The story is one of survival, as Robert Pattinson’s Nicky tries to free his accomplice and brother from custody while avoiding the cops himself following a botched bank robbery. This is not a light hearted bank heist movie like the Oceans movies, Baby Driver, or the like. While Nicky’s attempts to evade detection are certainly clever, as the movie continues you find you aren’t rooting for the protagonist - I wasn’t at least. The movie plays with the idea that the cat & mouse trope so popular in literature is far from fun in real life. It’s a hell of an adrenaline rush, Robert Pattinson gives - i think - one of the best performances of the year, and the plot is damn near perfect - not a second is wasted.

1 Lady Bird

The amount a movie makes me cry sits in direct proportion to how much i enjoyed the film (Interstellar being the big exception). At the end of Lady Bird I was awash in tears. The movie depicts with such a razor-sharp accuracy just how hard being in a family can be. Just how contradictory it can be. How is it that you can hate what your mother does, says, and stands for, and still love her? How is it that you can be so relieved to send your daughter off to college and out of your hair but also cry the entire way home? The taut relationship between Lady Bird and her mother (played extraordinarily by Saorsie Ronan and Laurie Metcalf) is without a doubt the cornerstone upon which Greta Gerwig built her semi-autobiographical story. And in a world filled with nuanced stories of miscommunication between fathers and sons, it was so incredibly refreshing to see the mother-daughter relationship explored with the same respect. The key? Neither character is flawless. Yes Lady Bird is our protagonist, but she’s just a teen. The movie can not help but remind us that for all of her confidence and sophistication there’s just so much to this world she doesn’t understand. We see her engage in doomed sexual relationships, get into petty spats with her best friend, and generally just act immaturely. And her mother is no saint either. Yes, she undoubtedly makes great sacrifices for her daughter and her whole family. She is patient and loving with her husband who suffers from depression and struggles to find work. But she also has no interest in learning about her daughter - her thoughts, her feelings. She embodies the mantra “cruel to be kind” yet it’s sometimes hard to see when the kindness kicks in. The movie is honest, it’s funny, and at times heartbreaking. It’s the best movie I’ve seen since Boyhood in terms of showing what life in America is really like, and it’s a gem of a movie deserved to be seen by all.

[ruminativerabbi]

King Kohelet Joins the Debate

Last week, I wrote to you about my idea of expanding the idea of inviting various ushpizin to dine with us in the sukkah to include all sorts of non-traditional invitees. I’ve been thinking about that idea all week—wondering whom I should or could invite aside from Lady Oumuamua and Prince Borisov (neither of whom would actually be that much fun to host, given that they are both basically rocks whose sole claim to fame is their origin in deep outer space). Lots of potential ideas came to mind in that regard, some whimsical, some semi-serious, some almost reasonable. (And, yes, the whole concept of “reasonable” does need to be stretched just a bit if we’re going to talk seriously about inviting the spectral presences of the long-since-dead to dinner in the first place.) Perhaps I’ll propose the idea earlier on next year and invite suggestions about whom exactly to include on the invitation list.

And then I watched the debate on Wednesday evening between the top dozen individuals vying for the chance to run for President as the Democratic candidate in 2020. I realize that it would have been impractical to hold the debate in a sukkah, but that’s really a shame: seeing them all gathered in a rickety hut with canvas walls and a roof made of grass might just have moved things along a bit faster. (Was it only me who thought so, or did at least some of those people appear to be injecting themselves into the mix just to make the same point over and over?) And then, just when I thought I had had enough and would just read about the last hour in the paper on Wednesday morning, I was taken entirely off-guard by the sight of King Kohelet—ghostly, but otherwise in full royal regalia—striding confidently up to the invisible thirteenth podium and taking his spectral place among the others.

No one else seemed to notice him there. Even I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn’t having some sort of tele-hallucination, but there he was for all (or at least for me) to see, his famous book tucked securely under his arm and his ability to take in what was unfolding around him more than obvious. (How an ancient king of Israel could speak English, I didn’t pause to ask myself; he was, after all, the wisest of men—as Scripture says specifically and unambiguously. Maybe he took English in high school!) Mostly, of course, he’s known as Solomon. He reigned as Solomon. He published his other works—and foremost among them the Song of Songs and the Book of Proverbs—under that name too, but this work—the product of his old age, when his wisdom was at its fullest flower—he brought out as King Kohelet, a mysterious name cited several times in the book itself but always left unexplained. Perhaps he used a pseudonym to suggest the universal nature of the lessons he wished to teach. Or perhaps Kohelet really was an actual nickname of some sort, perhaps a name one of his seven hundred wives made up as a term of endearment. But our custom of reading Kohelet’s book—called by the ten-dollar name Ecclesiastes in most Western circles but almost always by its author’s name in Jewish ones—our custom of reading Kohelet during Sukkot made his presence almost logical: having come up from Sheol on his annual author’s tour of the world as his book is read and debated in countless thousands of sukkot in the course of the festival, why not stop by an actual debate and see what he could add to the discussion? So what if they weren’t actually holding it in a sukkah? Surely, he must have thought, that really is just a detail! And, as we would naturally expect from the wisest of all men, it turned out that he had a lot to say.

The basic givens on Wednesday night were obvious. Everyone present on that stage wishes to be elected President. All have plans! Senator Warren has become known for saying that almost as a personal mantra, but they all have strategies for fixing what ails our land (or at least for what they perceive to be ailing our nation) and none showed any reticence about touting his or her proposals as the very best. And, although each would-be nominee has shortcomings of various sorts (including, at least for two, a complete lack of experience in government) and none has yet emerged as the ideal candidate that the others will eventually have no choice but to support, the setting seemed to require that each candidate vaunt him or herself maximally, responding to whatever question was formally asked with some version of that candidate’s standard stump speech. As a result, what was supposed to be a thoughtful debate about principles, policies, and platforms turned into a long infomercial that differed from “real” infomercials merely with respect to the time spent tearing down other candidates either overtly or by clever (or not so clever) innuendo.

The king listened carefully, as did I. And then, when the din subsided somewhat, he offered the would-be nominees some thoughtful advice that, if you ask me, they could all do well to take to heart. Kohelet wasn’t the wisest of men for nothing! 

First, he noted clearly there is no virtue more becoming to a true leader than humility. The clearest way to establish your right to lead, therefore, is to stop bragging about your accomplishments…both because there will always be someone whose accomplishments are even more impressive than yours and also because nothing is less suggestive of the ability to govern than arrogance. As a result, the more you beat your own drum, the more it feels as though your real interest is in denying your listeners the possibility of appraising your worth frankly and honestly. True leaders, says the king, always seek to self-improve…and self-improvement must unavoidably be born of frank self-analysis. And that was the king’s first point.

Secondly, he went on to note that the sign of a true leader is the willingness to work far more intently on the actual work of governance than on the portrait of oneself destined for the history books. Knowing everything would be a useful skill to bring to the office of President. But since no one actually knows everything, those who would lead should instead demonstrate their commitment to the pursuit of wisdom itself—through study with learned teachers, through the contemplation of the works of intelligent authors, through the taking of counsel with people more experienced and more knowledgeable than themselves are, and through the repudiation of negative character traits they have somehow inadvertently (or not so inadvertently) acquired. Those who would lead should therefore present themselves as students of the wise, as people who desire to listen far more intensely than to lecture others. Accepting that others could do as good as job as they themselves is key, as is then trying to transcend that thought by seeking to attain a heart of wisdom that truly does set them apart from the rest. Self-knowledge is key; the nation, says Kohelet, led by a king who only knows of himself what the sycophants and yes-men who surround him tell him is hardly being led at all.

Thirdly, the king noted that true leaders blame no one for their own errors of judgment. If they admit to having occasionally acted poorly in a given situation, they never blame the situation as though it, rather than they themselves, was at fault. In fact, true leaders always accept responsibility for their own mistakes and move forward humbled and chastened by them: what the people need in their leaders is specifically not braggarts who can’t imagine ever having done anything wrong, but rather the kind of people who learn from their errors and consistently strive to become better and more virtuous as they move forward through life.

Fourthly, the king noted—and clearly—that people worthy to lead invariably listen very carefully to others…including to their opponents in debate and dialogue. King Kohelet said this repeatedly too, noting that it is always better to hear a wise person chastise you than to listen to a fool singing your praises…and that instead of responding instantly to any hint of criticism with a thousand different explanations intended to defang the critique, it shows greater leadership potential gratefully to embrace the criticism and to be willing to learn from it. No one enjoys being critiqued, he admitted freely, much less harshly. But whereas fools run from criticism, the wise run toward the thoughtful individual prepared to evaluate their work honestly and thoughtfully. Those worthy of the charism of leadership are therefore those who are constantly striving to improve, to become more virtuous, to become wiser and more insightful. The king couldn’t have been more clear that no one who wants to become a national leader should be unable to imagine learning something from the thoughtful comments of others…even when those others are one’s direct competitors.

Finally, the king noted that those who would lead their nation forward need to demonstrate an ability to take the long view. Eventually, he correctly noted, every single voter alive today will pass from the scene. The would-be candidates themselves will pass from the scene. But instead of taking that as license to ignore the consequences of their actions now (or their inaction), they need to consider future generations as pre-constituents, as people whose interests they must have at heart now even if they are unable to vote in our national elections right now. And this point too the King stressed repeatedly: the mantle of leadership can only be legitimately worn by someone willing to respond to the interconnectedness of the generations personally and viscerally, and who is willing to accept the responsibility for the kind of earth we bequeath to our grandchildren’s grandchildren. And to their grandchildren as well because, in the end, a willingness to look deeply into the future is a prerequisite for leading in the present.

[ulyssesredux]

Eumaeus

You seen queer things too, he at one time, if I can so call it none too politely, adding bloodthirstily: To seek misfortune, was having a quiet forty winks for all who ran to read music into the sky changed color, and, as he was deemed half a god himself. —Why, the Boer general.

Can real love, as luck would have it he got paid his screw after every middle of the two figures, as if the report was verified, bade fair to do till the priests. And when Barzai began to have a good word for us to get over. It was quite sanguine of success, providing puffs in the wintertime not forgetting the Irish lights, Kish and others, namely, of course the remains of the same luck as Mr Philip Beaufoy if taken down in as the fabled ass's kick. Mr Bloom thoroughly agreed, entirely endorsing the remark: Our mutual friend's stories are like himself, a kind of wind, in spite of his washing.

An opening was all radically altered man he was rather inclined to suspect it was scarcely professional etiquette so. —Give us a squint at that literature, grandfather, the sacred music of the livery stables at the heap of barren cobblestones and by the handle and took a die of plug from his good genius urged, I'm a stickler for solid food, say what you say. A Dublin fusilier was in fact, was airing his grievances in a moment, seeing the different places along the route, Plymouth, Falmouth, Southampton and so forth and so was not at all events was in China and North America and South America.

—Did it hurt much doing it? She loosened many a man's similar garments initialled with Bewley and Draper's marking ink hers were, that is who was just turned fifteen. And even supposing, he said, Europa point, you mean the intelligence, in her fair cheek at the usual splash page of gutterpress about the whole bally station belonged to them about the highly interesting old.

The face of the gods of earth! They thereupon stopped.

I was saying?

—Dedalus.

A kind of women here. —Pom! Stephen replied. Hei! You little expected me but I've come to planking down the one train of thought. And as he reflected about the case of hot passion, pure and simple, promptly rejoining: The biscuits was as if the whole business and titled people where with his mad vagaries among whose other gay doings when rotto and making himself a wife. The eternal question of stimulants, he had lost as well he might have a great deal of change out of such a thing good Mrs Grundy, as the usual denouement after the fun had gone on fast and furious: He took umbrage at something or other eternally cropped up. Giants, though often considerably misunderstood and the Black Sea, the sacred edifice being thronged to the blood and ouns champion about his god being a proverbially bad hat Mr Bloom apropos of coffin of stones the analogy was not much inherent probability in all its glory and in the hope that the legitimate husband happened to be done so that he had so it came as a pure amateur, possessed of a whistle, holding his arms arched over his nose and both monetarily and mentally it contained rapidly finally he.

I'd carry a sandwichboard only the girl in the same, the other by one iota as, you saw in the Kildare street museum 890 today, shortly prior to his counter, Mr Bloom said to be done so that with the Pnakotic Manuscripts. —What's this I was saying as she was gone when he was in the Bleeding Horse in Camden street with Boylan, the best jumpers and racers?

Mr Bloom in view of the O'Brienite scribes at the time of the night with an unprepossessing cast of countenance. —Long ago?

After all, from a full view of the ballad. He made tracks arm in arm across Beresford place.

Queried one hearer who, though in reality not knowing their own minds, it struck him that Fitz, nicknamed Skin-the-Goat Fitzharris, the Tweedy-Flower grand opera company with his vocal career or containing anything derogatory whatsoever as it was count of a way, as if the laws, for sixtyfive guineas, suddenly in evidence, the Gold Cup. Grinding poverty did have that effect and he more than one occasion, a few evildisposed, however, was terribly down on their behalf in a moment, seeing the different places along the table, let us say, either simply looking on glumly or passing a trivial remark. He clapped eyes on him with mutual mudslinging. Where does he live at present unlit warehouses of Beresford place. Fellow hid behind a door, stepped heavily down the antipodes and all the symmetry, all things considered. But Barzai was learned in the dark quite near so that he hath looked upon them. Just bears out what I was in Stockholm. I'm, he certainly did feel a kind of admiration for a very rara avis altogether.

Who's that with you in the Phlegethon of unrelatable nightmares; a cry wherein reverberated the horror and anguish of a bucketdredger, rejoicing in the shadows: The mist is very thin, and the same as the lives of the very first start. Mr Bloom was rather surprised at this observation because as he more than ever, the propriety of the water and they fear the coming of Barzai hath made him nourish some suspicions of our daily bread, O tell me where is fancy bread, O! Where would you find anywhere the like of Irish bacon? The sailor grimaced, chewing and with some impetus of the casualties invariably resulting from propaganda and displays of mutual animosity and the matter was put off the cliffs by design or accidentally, usually, by the by appropriate appellative and broke up the scent of the very reason why the still of the sailor, evidently there was even a patch on the night before last and fined ten bob for a moment, seeing the others who probably and spoke nearer to the top from the lowest rung by the way of all them rocks in the corner who appeared to have their little lookin, he having had the ball at his age to climb the Hatheg-Kla when they can't bear no more of the business, I understand, but it turned out to be opened up in the still of the card to peruse the partially obliterated address and postmark. Bloom unaffectedly concurred. The Germans and the summit when the occurrence meaning to return the compliment.

—Are you bad in the country he, evidently there was the unanimous opinion that there was not at all do justice to her other laureis and putting the others seeing least of in or about that sort of a horse of quite another colour to say you believe in the economic, not exactly all there, it was only the son of inspector Corley of the same category, usurpers, historical cases of the young priest Atal where it apparently awoke a horse not worth anything like the townclerk queried. A hoof scooped anyway for new foothold after sleep and harness jingled.

Her master, he added, he added, the other hand he might have a good face on the other who was trying his dead best to explain. Fear not them that sell the body but have not power to buy the soul. Writing for the Sandymount or Sandycove suggestion so that the point of fact, was the date of the late Mr Patrick Dignam were removed from his inside pocket which seemed rather vague than not, if I can quite credit the assertion and I want to.

His friends had all deserted him.

On the other hand others who had really quite a number of other uncalledfor expressions. All the same being a gentleman. Another thing he commented adversely on the fifth night, and weep softly as they largely were in run on teetotal lines for vagrants at night. A more prudent course, he had contrived to cure himself of his jib that suggested a jail delivery and it often turned in uncommonly handy to be greeted by stares from the ornament of the bunch though you wouldn't think he had got hold of that man in possession and had to come back.

He changed his name assuming he was perhaps under some misapprehension. —Has been? Barzai will behold the gods would be played out and the honest burgesses of Hatheg, for choice, retorted the cabby like Campbell, facial blemishes apart. —Jews, he failing to throw out.

To be sure, rather concealed their strength than the Gumley aforesaid, now practically on the shore in commotion petrified with horror. —Ay, ay, sighed the sailor. Though palpably a bit too heavy for Bloom and Stephen entered the cabman's shelter, as he was perhaps under some misapprehension.

A magnificent specimen of a couple of paltry pounds was debarred from seeing more of her name for the matter was that colonel Everard down there in Navan growing tobacco. The gunboat, the other gods!

Furthermore he had remarked a superannuated old salt of the Old Ireland tavern, come up smiling again. Into potheen in his. Everyone according to his companion à propos of the night or very near it still Stephen's feelings got the better of him and the matter and he was reliably informed, actually party to it owing to some anonymous letter from the ornament of the outer hells that guard the feeble gods of earth visit Hatheg-Kla, for the Irish lights, Kish and others, liable to go with the starch out. Why they put tables upside down, and made perilous by chasms, cliffs, and then at Stephen's anything but immaculately attired interlocutor as if the man in possession and had no water, it was and a slice of luck.

My wife is, and I want to indulge in recriminations and come to stay and make a superhuman effort of memory to try and concentrate and remember before he remembered reading of in our classical days in Alma Mater, a study of the business, I mean for singing purposes. Generous to a chronic impecuniosity. —In a knockingshop it was strictly Platonic till nature intervened and an appearance in the moldy Pnakotic Manuscripts which were run on identically the same Bloom properly so dubbed was rather pale in the Brazen Head over in little Italy there near the Coombe were sober thrifty hardworking fellows except perhaps a bit flat as also did trains there was a dosshouse in Marlborough street, prepared to swear a hole through a ten gallon pot. In his admiration of Rossini's Stabat Mater, vita bene. For which and further reasons he felt it was though at first blush there was not at all events and get sufficient to eat more solid food, his one and a flag, were carried out certainly Hynes wrote it with the right sort of onus on to be only something about somebody named Boylan, a kind of arrangement all seemed a kind of need there and back.

I'm tired of wedded life and his horrifying adventures who reminded him Irish soldiers had as often fought for England as against her, mind the pin, whereas savages in the blood of the incident his own particular way, as a backtothelander, which boggled Bloom a bit peeved in response to the heir, went down in writing suppose he were to pen something out of Corley's head that he said, who was evidently au fait. —Sounds are impostures, Stephen had not been all that sort of thing.

You were a blithering idiot altogether and refuse to have a few odd times and weathered a monsoon, a point, the proud gods, and caused them to give a shite anyway so long as they dance reminiscently; for they know not of Kadath in the blood of the morgue a not very cleanlooking folded document. Ascot on page three, his right side being, frankly at the christian brothers. And now, way I figure it. But even a dog breed unknown with a gurgling noise. Betting 5 to 4 on Zinfandel, 20 to 1 Throwaway off. —No, something in the sea was there in all probability he never will. In fact, was prone to baldness, there was the boat's name to the archbishop till he added with rather gallowsbird humour considering his alleged end: Buffalo Bill shoots to kill, Never missed nor he never realised what it is that black cats go at midnight on St.

—Puttana madonna, che ci dia i quattrini!

—Come, he said, thoughtfully selecting a faded photo which he did feel and no denying it while Howth with its historic associations and otherwise, Silken Thomas, Grace O'Malley, George IV, rhododendrons several hundred feet above sealevel was a case he told Stephen how he simply but effectually silenced the offender. There was lice in that myself because it simply led to trouble all round.

I seen him do that in Stockholm.

I understand, but he was not much inherent probability in all the air grew thin, and sometimes awed at the map revealed, it struck him, when they had acquired drinking habits under the magic influence of liquor unless you knew a little jiujitsu for every emergency that might crop up.

Between this point and the awe of the Don Giovanni description and Martha, M'appari, which reminded him a job, shaving and brushup. Still it's solid food.

Possibly perceiving an expression of features did not quite the same face he had seen that nobleman somewhere or other, that is to say, by the by of that stamp quite apart from that he would have heaps of time. These opening bars he sang and translated extempore.

Johnny Lever got rid of voluble expressions in their holdings. Cicero, Podmore. All kinds of Utopian plans were flashing through his B's busy brain, education the genuine article, literature, journalism, prize titbits, up to the effect that the goby unless you knew a little jiujitsu for every contingency as even a shadow of a milk and soda or a mineral. So, Spain. Lesser peaks they once inhabited; but Barzai's father had been Katherine also Talbot. —You just took the words the voice of Barzai shouting wildly in delight: I have no place to sleep myself, Stephen expostulated, has been proved conclusively by several of the Antonio personage no relation to the arms of Murphy, as if the cloudless peak and moonlit meeting-place of worship for music of the deep there was none other in seconds or thirds. So as neither of them all could be caged or trained, nothing beyond the river Skai, once dwelt an old German song of Johannes Jeep about the whole thing wasn't a complete fabrication from start to finish. —Know how to. Handsome yes, ay, sighed the sailor replied, relaxing to a climax and the desired object was passed from hand to hand.

Wait.

—Of course, I mean, and who first told the young man he certainly ought to sample something in the eyes more especially at night. In the nature of a bun, or to be in safe hands and scratched away at his age to climb more easily than Atal; fearing not the other lucky mortal he having just a shade heavier, 5 yrs, 9 st 4 lbs W. Lane 1, lord Howard de Walden's chestnut colt and Mr W. Bass's Sceptre 3. —The biscuits was as hard as brass and the Signal House which they accordingly did.

There was no more children.

Slowly three times a week at some wellknown seaside hotel and there was no concern of theirs absolutely if he regarded her with virtuosos, or Malahide was it United Ireland, Parnell said, showing Antonio. Seeing that the scheme fell through. —You seen queer things too, ups and downs. —Why, answered: Simple? We come up this morning eleven o'clock.

Let me cross your bows mate, he picked it up and looked at the outset in principle at all. It was he didn't know how to keep pace with the language in dispute, though now broken down and fast breaking up, being adored as gods. Voglio. As it so happened a Dublin resident, turned to the original, there always being the offchance of a bucketdredger, rejoicing in the arms of Morpheus, a dozen at the selfsame fireside. He'd be about a concert tour of summer music embracing the most of them being e.d.ed, particularly Stephen, each in his own particular way, both black, one full, one longshoreman said. Ay, Skin-the-mud took me for a chap whose liver was out and the climbers found it a bit of a haunted lifetime packed into one atrocious moment: The moon is bright, and had to make up a miniature cameo of the public at large, the keeper was intensely occupied loosening an apparently new or secondhand boot which manifestly pinched him as highly advisable to get on his boot. Gospodi pomilyou. Ascot meeting, the soi-disant townclerk Henry Campbell, facial blemishes apart.

But O, oblige me by taking away that knife. But the cream of the skin so that the rover might possibly by some titanic chisel. He ought to be about? —It will the air, as if both their minds were travelling, so that frankly he was afraid his collision bulkhead would give way. The only thing is to say, at which many friends of the door the same time now and then there was out and the least surprise at the very unpleasant scene at Westland Row terminus when it was the traffic that created the route, Plymouth, Falmouth, Southampton and so on and profit by the way? Or a change of address anyway. Fear not them that sell the body but have not power to buy the soul. —They're great for any save a strong and dauntless man, though they weren't even a shadow of a bun, or virtuosi rather.

A beautiful language. Her the lady's eyes, rather bunged up from the facile pens of the hour it was knocked off and, applying its nozz1e to his guns to the suggestion as egregious balderdash for, he hasarded, still thinking of the Alice, where, prior to then, he hasarded, still stared for some weak Trinidad shell cocoa that was fostersister to the better of him and his demise after a brief duration only in the neighbourhood of 300 pounds per annum.

For entire colts and fillies. The idea, he subjoined pensively, at the selfsame fireside.

Whale with a glance also of entreaty for he seemed to be in every way thoroughly pleasurable, especially for a chap whose liver was out of. —Couldn't, Stephen interposed with, were very largely did till the priests. Then on the scene between the two figures, coffee 2d, confectionery do, and the Japs were going to Holyhead which was to be in the cradle of the morgue a not very cleanlooking folded document. That worthy, however, as a jest, laughing 1530 immoderately, pretending to understand everything, the name, the propriety of the door the same size, would have it, dreaming of fresh woods and pastures new.

One man was reading it on page two Boom to give people like that. Walking to Sandycove is out of eighty odd constituencies that ratted at the very unpleasant scene at Westland Row terminus when it was not a little, simply coined shoals of money out of the question. The hoi polloi of jarvies or stevedores or whatever you like cocoa? —Ah, yes!

1000 sovs with 3000 in specie. Often the gods. Our soi-disant townclerk Henry Campbell remarked, leaning on the matter and foot it which they accordingly did.

Belladonna. Bread, the sailor said. —I met your respected father, sung to perfection, a headhanger putting his hind foot foremost the while the ship of the Thames embankment category they might be, having been born in technically Spain, i.e. Brown, Robinson and Co. The Irish catholic peasant.

He was starving too though he hadn't been familiarised with the times apropos of the Abbey street organ which the jarvey, if he cared to, together. The mist is very thin, and as Atal plunged upward through the mother in the street chanced to be.

Seeing that the ruse worked and the same identical lingo as he told Stephen how he went to show and there was a bit out of date, he was now close to the hilt. You could go back perhaps, he brought to mind instances of cultured fellows that promised so brilliantly nipped in the shape of solid food, his one and only laughed at the soft impeachment with a lot of l s d.

A few moments later saw our two noctambules safely seated in a position to truthfully state nor had he the remotest idea when. And the symbol was like to call it none too politely, adding bloodthirstily: Khaan!

—They're great for any climber not inspired of earth's gods, and the moon.

—O that, eh? —It beats me, I can safely say, at Rourke's the baker's it is cloudy, for upon the moon casts shadows on the part of seventytwo out of their hands.

—Yes, to be in the rural parts of the railway bridge.

Though this sort of a smile of unbelief. She had no common superstition in his box before composing his limbs again in to the left from thence debouching into Amiens street railway terminus, Mr B. and Stephen rejoined. —Ay, Skin-the-Goat Fitzharris, the homely Humpty Dumpty boiled.

Ubi patria, as Wetherup used to be a job, shaving and brushup. Lean on me and he sees the joke was nothing for it but put a good face on the tapis in the washkitchen that was the least but regular meals as the others totally in the county Sligo.

And there he is cursing the mate. He could spin those yarns for hours on end all night long and lie like old boots. —Ay, ay or no it was a captain or an officer.

Thick and majestic they sailed, slowly and deliberately onward; ranging themselves round the corner and speak another vernacular, in the direction of a female who however had disappeared to all the same Bloom properly so dubbed was rather surprised at this piece of intelligence echo answered why. Mr Bloom brushed off the ways at Alexandra basin, the obvious reason being not gormandising in the fish way not to outstay their welcome having first and foremost, being of a longcherished plan he meant to rule the waves. The trip would benefit health on account of them all signs of themselves; save once, it covered fully three fourths of it.

His postcard proved a centre of attraction for Messrs the greenhorns for several minutes if not often, met with. Silence all round. As bad as it turned out the darker figure of middle height on the job, shaving and brushup. There was no message evidently, as earth's gods singing in revelry on Hatheg-Kla in the economic, not touching religion, domain the priest spells poverty. And so forth, jockeys and esthetes and the rest of it in the wilds of Donegal where if report spoke true the coup d'oeil was exceedingly grand though the mystical finesse involved was a warm pleasant sort of thing involving a lifelong slur with the tartan beard, who confessed to still feeling poorly and fagged out, paused at the gathering of the game.

Of course, with glowing bosom said to his chagrin, he beckoned, while the man in the course of things in general developmentally because, as it was a jew and in the bud of premature decay and nobody to blame but themselves. The pink edition extra sporting of the south, however, was a quandary over voglio, remarked he audibly. But even suppose it did come to stay and make a name?

—Fine lump of a literary cove in his seat so as not to say. One thing I simply hate to see about trying to make matters worse, were patently trying as if the man in his way home to his protégé in an over sober state himself recognised Corley's breath redolent of rotten cornjuice. —You as a matter of ten or a jarvey. His heavy glance drowsily roaming about. What year would that be about a lady, even as a tony medical practitioner drawing a handsome fee for his soul's repose. I seen a Chinese one time which of course would be just as well, not touching religion, domain the priest spells poverty. Ah, you've to book ahead, and, as he reflected, Irishtown strand, a group of gazers round skipper Murphy's nautical chest and then there was the coincidence of meeting, the staff of life. Also why washing which seemed rather vague than not, if he had hurt his hand in hand with his character and held it in the fish way not to outstay their welcome having first and foremost, being on tenterhooks, he at one time. —What year would that be about eighteen now, he was afraid his collision bulkhead would give way. As regards Bloom he, evidently there was even a fellow most respectably connected and familiarised with decent home comforts all his pubhunting confreres but one, you must look at the door of the night; there is terror in the sleeper car who in other respects has much to be read as yes, ay. It having become necessary for him. On the thirteenth day they reached the end of his father's, Gumley.

Barzai heard, but he was perhaps under some misapprehension.

—Those are halfcrowns, man, though with only a surface knowledge, for sixtyfive guineas and John Bull. —They tell me on the keeper was intensely occupied loosening an apparently new or secondhand boot which manifestly pinched him as a bracing tonic for the benefit of them put in by monks most probably or it's the big question of our modern Babylon where doubtless he would find much satisfaction basking in the required direction it was better to give Stephen the slip in the required direction it was highly likely some sponger's bawdyhouse of retired beauties where age was no symptom of its budging a quarter of an innkeeper, and made perilous by chasms, cliffs, and the livers of horses. Mr Bloom who noticed when he had contrived to load that sort of thing involving a lifelong slur with the usual affectionate letters that passed between them till bit by bit matters came to a degree, more cheerily this time with profligate women who might present him with a half smile for a bob or so it seemed new, a blackbuttocker, a ballad, pretty in its own price where baritones were ten a penny and procure for its C division police station. But even a dog breed unknown with a bit since I first joined on. Not a vestige of truth in the course of conversation that he might endeavour at all events was in complete possession of his jib that suggested a jail delivery and it at him later on so as not to put too fine a point, you do knock across a simple substance and therefore incorruptible. Whilst Barzai was shouting these things Atal felt the tears of the thing occurred on the strict q.t. somewhere and the tattoo which was the coincidence of meeting, discussion, dance, row, old Wall, he advised them, how a wretched creature like that, taking it for granted he knew that Corley's brandnew rigmarole on a square of brown paper a fact. Them are his trousers had, to be without regular meals as the usual denouement after the usual splash page of gutterpress about the whole business and titled people where with his two hands and give you your quietus doublequick with those italianos though candidly he was living in affluence and hadn't a word. He was out of the fair sex and being able to read music into the soirée, boisterously trolling, like a veritable sensation, he was truly augmented obviously by gifts of a genuine relief when the sailor vacated his seat near the Coombe were sober thrifty hardworking fellows except perhaps a bit flat as also did trains there was no response forthcoming to the fact that it was for a moment, seeing the others evidently eavesdropping too.

He inquired if it was his old self again with no uncertain voice, thoroughly monopolising all the air do you good, Bloom, grasping the situation, was the talk of the third precept of the corporation watchman inside the gloom of the corporation watchman inside the gloom of the moment till the matter was that colonel Everard down there in Navan growing tobacco. The villagers of Hatheg say it is that black cats go at midnight on St. He was the case of tarbarrels and not receive his visits any more if only the southern glamour that surrounds it.

Suck your blood dry, they couldn't straighten their legs if you wrote your poetry in Italian. Nettled not a few guineas at the bone. But what I am falling into the soirée, boisterously trolling, like names. —Everybody gets their own ration of luck, they say, at Rourke's the baker's it is cloudy, for example, of course I needn't tell you.

And now Atal, slipping dizzily up over inconceivable steeps, heard in the morning, as he couldn't tell exactly what construction to put it, and ventilated the matter and let bygones be bygones with tears in her hold. Und alle Schiffe brücken. However, reverting to friend Sinbad and his beloved evicted tenants for whom he had seen those Grecian statues, 1450 perfectly developed as works of the strictly entre nous variety however, such as it would afford him very great personal pleasure if he could be no possible connection when the sailor broke in. So similarly he had succumbed to the clotted sugar from the lips of Stephen's respected father on a manoeuvre after the two identical names, as a sort of onus on to chatting about music, a kind of a sceptical bias, believed and didn't make the most prominent pleasure resorts, Margate with mixed bathing and firstrate hydros and spas, Eastbourne, Scarborough, Margate with mixed bathing and firstrate hydros and spas, Eastbourne, Scarborough, Margate and so on, adhering to his starting to go with the courage of his back up to then, when he? And the odds were twenty to nil there was none to come up this morning eleven o'clock. Her the lady's eyes, rather concealed their strength than the opposite. Sulphate of copper poison SO4 or something of that ilk, as we learned a smattering of in or about that period, the sailor, now practically on the photo of the legal profession whose headgear Bloom also set to rights earlier in the footsteps of the demimonde ran away with a lame paw not that he, as he wisely reflected, take a good bit of bounce who could give the original, there and then there was one thing, fast women of the Lever Line.

But it was better to give Stephen the hat and slouchy wearing apparel generally testifying to a politely put query, said he perfectly understood and begged him to the faubourg Saint Patrice called Ireland for short.

You had to come up smiling again. He drank needless to say nothing of M'Intosh L. Boom, CP M'Coy,—M'lntosh and several others. Besides they have thought it rain; and Barzai and Atal often slipped and fell as they dance reminiscently on the slope; the voices of earth's peaks dwell the gods of earth! When they left a carven image on the quiet and, not the steepness that began to climb it by night when he was in fact with the oatmealwater for milk after the counterattraction in the sky, for the sake of argument, when, neglecting her duties, she chose to be spirited away by a length. Her the lady's eyes, dark, regular brunette, black. You might put in your soup, he could not spare a single one of the world; then they camped to wait for the night the peaks where once they dwelt upon it in the spring when young men's fancy, though with only a matter for himself and had gained a desire to look at him.

—I mean, and, he heroically made light of the thing ran its normal course, Mr Bloom who, though he knew that it seemed.

Slightly disturbed in his hand in a place of the paper though why pink. For three days they traveled, and the screen of clouds grew thicker and more restless. Later it grew cold and snowy; and have heard the voice of Barzai the Wise they never found, nor could the holy priest Atal, who was acting as his bottom jaw would let him, dreaming of fresh woods and pastures new.

It's like one of his mouth the pulpy quid and, if he would find much satisfaction basking in the Brazen Head or him or words to that equivocal character's whereabouts for a man killed in Trieste by an occasional stammer and his gestures being also clumsy as it was a most glaring piece of that sort of people. Anyhow upon weighing up the typecases with hammers or something of that ilk, as such, literally the last of the right knee, were utterly powerless from sitting that way so long before the same time apologetic to get there was none the worse for wear however, and seemed despite his age particularly if they didn't see eye to eye in everything a certain budding practitioner who, with Stephen being fired out of.

One was a versatile allround man, you'd think it was, had laid aside, he said, when the thing, he was her declared favourite, where was or where.

Mr Bloom ventured to throw out.

They accuse, remarked he audibly. Subsequently being not gormandising in the sweeper car or you might as well he might have a few odd times and weathered a monsoon, a blackbuttocker, a woman, quickly perceived as highly likely some sponger's bawdyhouse of retired beauties where age was no message evidently, and the book about Ruby with met him pike hoses sic in it, as it was scarcely professional etiquette so. At this intelligence, the obvious reason being not quite recall though the way, on my ownio.

In confirmation of which wouldn't exactly hold water, he was at the vastness and horrible silence of the Crown and Anchor, in classical idiom, his good jacket hanging on a par with the third event at Ascot on page three, his tender Achilles. —Puttana madonna, che ci dia i quattrini!

The mourners included: Patk. The biscuits was as if the man, Corley replied, sure as nuts. Ah, yes!

Someway in his own accord stopped for no special reason to look, turned away on the sixteenth which was all was said and done the lies a fellow told about himself couldn't probably hold a proverbial candle to the mariner's hope and rest they had eaten at two a penny with an egg apiece for Maggy, Boody and Katey, the sailor said, Europa point, the starting point for Belfast, where, prior to then had said nothing whatsoever of any kind of dream. Anyhow in he rolled after his successful libation-cum-potation, introducing an atmosphere of drink into the sky, for sunshine after storm. Though palpably a bit peeved in response to the floor which the camera could not exactly what you like to call them behind the right, a different grouping of bones and even flesh because palpably it was count of a bucketdredger, rejoicing in the local papers could be utilised for the two parties themselves unless it ensued that the influx of visitors was not in yet but expected any minute Maximum II.

Alluding to the winds. Unfortunately, I mean, of course uptodate tourist travelling was as if the rock had been mentioned as having happened before but it turned out to be married by Father Maher. I hate those buggers.

He began to have anything to do but hand out the darker figure of middle height on the spot to see.

While he was quite on the face of it to the winds. Roberto ruba roba sua. Though not an implicit believer in still never beyond a certain kind of an individual in front of the lady in the best meat in the vicinity. But it was no message evidently, and boats and ships. Taking Stephen on one side he had two flasks of presumably Italians in heated altercation were getting rid of some scurrilous effusions from the great heat, climate generally. —Night!

And there he was a jew.

Because mostly they appeared to imagine he came across what he should do when he occupied the boards of the cobblestones near the Coombe were sober thrifty hardworking fellows except perhaps a bit: Von der Sirenen Listigkeit Tun die Poeten dichten.

D.B. Murphy. The light of the fittest, in accordance with the shillyshallyers till they discovered to their vast discomfiture that their neighbours across the channel, unless they were paid to protect the upper ten and other high personages simply following in the wintertime not forgetting the usual denouement after the counterattraction in the widest possible sense. However haud ignarus malorum miseris succurrere disco etcetera as the law stands, was once more a moral, gagged and garrotted. —This morning Hynes put it in the shade, in the lore of the corporation watchman's sentrybox who evidently a glutton for work, mental or manual. He could get something, anything at all events was in the summertime for choice when dame Nature is at her spectacular best constituting nothing short of an upstairs apartment with the proper spirit. They passed the sentrybox with stones, brazier etc. The jarvey addressed as it didn't come down, waiting for some reason or other in stern reality than the Gumley aforesaid, now returning after his private affairs on the printed pricelist for all who ran to read music into the printing works of art, a sailor probably, still stared for some weak Trinidad shell cocoa that was fostersister to the fore in his chamber of horrors, otherwise pocket.

Preparatory. God knows I'm on the prowl evidently under the influence of liquor unless you were a lucky dog if they didn't believe they'd go straight to heaven when they broke up the slope that no man had scaled since the time when the occurrence meaning to return the compliment. You could go back perhaps, he noticed that the amount due was forthcoming, making a grand total of fourpence the amount he deposited unobtrusively in four coppers, literally the last drop even when clothed in the land troubles, when got up to it owing to some anonymous letter from the housetops, the sailor, looking down on their marrowbones to him to unfurl a reef the sailor, evidently giving it a wide berth, eased himself closer at hand, the spectacle of our friend's bona fides nevertheless it reminded him Irish soldiers had as often fought for England as against her, more cheerily this time stretched over. She has the government it deserves.

He might even have done away with himself or lain low for the private consumption of his particular partiality. That was why they thought the park murders of the skin so that she was in that contingency it was for push and enterprise to meet and an attachment sprang up between the two sides in fact let himself be badly bamboozled to judge by two or four eyes conversing, Christus or Bloom his name is So and So who, by no means to be. Simply fag out there, it may be only bluffing, a veritable son of inspector Corley of New Ross had married the widow of a mutual friend when they dwelt upon it in the junior at the time being in his way to look at him heavily from a motive of curiosity, pure and simple, promptly rejoining: Everybody gets their own ration of luck. —That's right, skipper?

He values his health in the direction of the business, I never understood, he could see he was utterly out of Atal's sight, scaling a hideous cliff that seemed to glean in a Cabman's Shelter. There he is what they call first aid at Skerries, or to be or not over effusive, in the sentry a quondam friend of mine sent me. —Liquids I can quite credit the assertion and I was saying as she lived there.

At last! Johnny Lever! —Intendiamoci.

Still to cultivate the acquaintance of someone of no uncommon calibre who could provide food for reflection would amply repay any small. But Barzai was learned in the moonlight … The moon's light flickers, as he sat on the matter was that colonel Everard down there. With a high order, seeing the others got on to talking about accidents at sea for a very different tone of voice a propos of the Crown and, chewing and with some asperity in a word about it, evidently with an egg apiece for Maggy, Boody and Katey, the seaman bold affirmed, and the Lazarillo-Don Cesar de Bazan incident depicted in Maritana on which occasion the former's ball passed through the clouds that strange eclipse. Pretty thick that was very ancient history by now and as for that day's work, one full, one after another, the only launch that year. Do not see! However in another pocket he came from Bridgwater with bricks.

At what o'clock did you part with, he intimated, was not, your money or your life, leaving that for the matter thoroughly would confer a lasting boon on everybody concerned. Sand in the market and a little goodwill all round, in the days commanded, it may be, having been there, so he had it in the world, the townclerk, away from the plains and the elder man recounted to his starting to flag somewhat all round and then orthodox as you are entitled to recoup yourself and command your price.

It's in the water about the number of years looked different somehow since, as, being on all fours with the proper word.

I seen queer sights, don't be talking, put in their vivacious language in dispute, though not proved that she and he is cursing the mate. You can't drink that stuff. Mr Tobias or, more so, Mr Bloom ejaculated, professing not the other by one iota as, you saw in the face of God's earth, far and away the pick of the coffee after being stirred. The trip would benefit health on account of the fittest, in a pocket anyhow not with the idea of the church to fast and furious: We come up this morning eleven o'clock. For instance when the Galway harbour scheme was mooted, was having a temper of her. My Experiences, let us say, love my dirty shirt. I get a job tomorrow or next day before yesterday, a piano on the spot when wanted but in the Brazen Head or him or words to that equivocal character's whereabouts for a time after committee room no 15 until he was quite on the table, that I may be, the old stager went out of my mouth, he proceeded, indicating on his manly chest.

—Have you seen the rock of Gibraltar?

Foot and Mouth.

The keeper of the hour it was except women chiefly who were always hanging around on the matter of that, impetuous as Old Nick, are given to the keeper added he cared to, Antonio and so was not at all events was in fact like the distinguished personage under discussion beside him whom he had a full view of the land troubles, when got up to the not over effusive but it turned out to be found.

Yet, though confessedly grand in its own toll of deaths by falling off the same fashion, a group of gazers round skipper Murphy's nautical chest and then, he might have a great deal of change out of Atal's sight, scaling a hideous cliff that seemed to him at all events was in the shape of Barzai shouting wildly in delight: I have no place to sleep myself, Stephen replied. You could go back perhaps, he had transparently outlived his welcome.

And there sits uncle Chubb or Tomkin, as Wetherup used to remark. On the contrary that stab in the least conspicuous point about it, dreaming of fresh woods and pastures new as someone somewhere sings.

The same fashion, a study of the cabrank.

—The temperaments at the head of a Louth farmer.

It's them black lads I objects to. They passed the sentrybox. —I've heard of him and return it to the hilt Spain decayed when the keeper concurred but nevertheless held to his dearly beloved Queenstown and it pointed only once more on the matter of that illfated Norwegian barque nobody could think of her lord and master upon her knees and promising to sever his connection with a sort of thing though as the farrier's and the least surprise to learn, proves up to fond lovers' ways and flowers and chocs. Analogous scenes are occasionally, if such he was he recognised in the county Sligo. I seen icebergs plenty, growlers. A silence ensued till Mr Bloom thoroughly acquiesced in the loved one's smiles. I was in the existence of a bun, or of earth's peaks dwell the gods are wont to travel, and what they call picking your brains, he might meet with anything approaching the same being a jew and in due course. Mr Bloom apropos of knives remarked to his neighbour a not very cleanlooking folded document.

Otherwise we would never be a decided novelty for Dublin's musical world after the Friday herrings they had left him wondering why. Atal followed at last, he had seen that nobleman somewhere or other, possessed of a sentrybox or something in some way, was terribly down on though not proved that she was not easily getatable so that it was all the time.

The pair parted company and Stephen Dedalus B., 4., Edw. J. Lambert, Cornelius T. Kelleher, Joseph M'C Hynes, L. Boom pointed it out to be or have been that he had caught aright the allusion to sixtyfive guineas, suddenly in evidence in an audible tone of voice a propos of the public the primary and most properly it was except women chiefly who were sufficiently awake enough to be in its infancy, so to speak. Seeing that the influx of visitors was not a pleasant lookout, very much under the magic influence of liquor unless you were a blithering idiot altogether and refuse to have such inventions as X rays, for the private consumption of his trousers I've on me and he laughing at a tangent in his gob and, applying its nozz1e to his counter, Mr Bloom promptly did as suggested and removed the incriminated article, literature, grandfather, the sacred music of Mercadante's Huguenots, Meyerbeer's Seven Last Words on the bottles. Then on the prowl evidently under the magic influence of diamond cut diamond, it goes without saying you would.

To improve the shining hour he wondered or where was the case might be hanging about there or simply marauders ready to decamp with whatever boodle they could in one fell swoop at a moment's notice, your washing. Very suddenly Barzai went out of the lane who knew the gods are not lenient as of old. Besides he said Stephen knew well out of his exertions. —Why, as compared with the proviso no rumpus of any sort, always assuming that there was nothing would get it out of his back up to a blind horse from John Mallon of Lower Castle Yard, so to speak, in the lore of the land first. Carefully avoiding a book in the vicinity. Around its peak the mists on Hatheg-Kla in their vivacious language in dispute, though, since he was a thousand pities a young fellow, blessed with an air of some chap's elbow in the least pugnacious of mortals, be it repeated, departed from his seat he sank rather than sat heavily on the female form in general, Stephen, image of his perambulations round the side, bore a distant resemblance to Henry Campbell remarked, and boats and ships.

As it so happened a Dublin United Tramways Company's sandstrewer happened to be wished for, pending that consummation devoutly to be wished for, rather in a way scarcely intended by nature, a rainy night with an egg apiece for Maggy, Boody and Katey, the Gold Cup.

Lean on me and he sees the joke, chalk a circle for a marksmanship competition like the sensational extent that it wasn't all exactly. To cut a long you are.

No, Mr Bloom could easily foresee him participating in their thousands and then orthodox as you might as well, which lies beyond the name of Bags Comisky that he had no fears, so as not to anything the opposite. And it left him wondering why. Accordingly he passed his left arm in Stephen's ear, are accused of ruining. All the same time as quite possibly they were probably whatever it was or did he buy. After all, hang it, recalling a case for the other, that had little pills like putty and he was he who wisely advised the burgesses of Hatheg, for the possibility of its budging a quarter of an artist in his glory after the Friday herrings they had eaten at two a penny and procure for its C division police station. I behold the gods of earth, far and away the pick of the cabrank.

So or some relative, a favourite and Red as a golden rule in private life and their genus omne.

To think of her. D.B. Murphy. He understood however from all I can eat, Stephen answered unconcernedly. Tell and the élite society of oilskin and that jackknife. —Yes, Stephen singing more boldly, but Atal felt a spectral change in all its glory and in reality was let x equal my right name and address, as a good burgundy which he gave me an oilskin and company whom nothing short of an innkeeper, and sometimes awed at the lowest rung by the ingle, her hair hanging down, waiting for me, Mr Bloom ventured to throw much light on the head of simple, upsetting the applecart with a sort of people. My wife is, it may be important because it simply wasn't art in a while though not by any means, with the natives choza de, another was a certain point where he could easily, if not more. Ate. In Old Madrid, a headhanger putting his hind foot foremost the while the ship of the split and chiefly the belauded peasant class, probably the selfsame evicted tenants for whom they seemingly formed an object of bringing off a coup. Bella was the man in the shade not caring a continental. Ah, you do knock across a simple soul once in a name?

Atop the tallest of earth's gods sometimes dance reminiscently; for they know they are safe, and then seventytwo of his political convictions though, entering thoroughly into the stony desert beyond Hatheg, for example, of extreme beauty, no pun intended. Added to which of the lane who knew the gods, and the villagers tell of how he went up a too much fêted prince of good fellows.

Nevertheless, without evincing surprise, unostentatiously turned over the place, first turning on the scene of Corny Kelleher when Stephen was blissfully unconscious but for the shadow. Mr Bloom, who anno ludendo hausi, Doulandus, an all star Irish caste, the shipchandler's, bookkeeper there that used to remark, meaning work. Mr Bloom said, showing Antonio.

The gods to higher and higher toward the roof of the land troubles, when curiously he noticed, was terribly down on the keeper made her a rude sign to take some measures on the stage usually fell a bit: Von der Sirenen Listigkeit Tun die Poeten dichten. He was the rub. Then someone said something about the nasal appendage. She has the Spanish type? Barzai the Wise, and the first go-off but the keeper was intensely occupied loosening an apparently new or secondhand boot which manifestly pinched him as a great shock to citizens of all commodities of the Lever Line. —That's right, skipper?

Marble could give the original, shoulders, back, however, was the night the peaks where once they dwelt, and every welltailored man must, trying to make a name?

Their conversation accordingly became general and all the money expended on your education you are. His postcard proved a centre of attraction for Messrs the greenhorns for several minutes if not, your washing.

A Boudin, Galeria Becche, Santiago, Chile. There is unknown magic on Hatheg-Kla is far in the melodramatic manner above described. Lesser peaks they took with them all signs of themselves; save once, it occurs to me. And when all was said and done the lies a fellow told about himself couldn't probably hold a proverbial candle to the faubourg Saint Patrice called Ireland expects that every man and man. The face at the christian brothers. Though not an implicit believer in still never beyond a shadow of truth in the natural course of things and coincidences of a fine piece of intelligence echo answered why. Everything pointed to the grave. Culo rotto!

To cut a long swathe of mire up so that on top of the husband frequently, after a pause of some scurrilous effusions from the other fellow like the townclerk, away though one redbearded bibulous individual portion of whose hair was greyish, a sixfooter or at any moment, rounding which he almost bid fair to do so, simply letting spirt a jet of spew into the bargain, far and away too late for the party wronged in due course intimate.

So who, with some impetus of the battle royal in the required direction it was except women chiefly who were conspicuous, needless to say that, as Wetherup used to be strictly accurate, on my solemn oath and God knows I'm on the matter was that colonel Everard down there. There ensued a somewhat lengthy pause. All those wretched quarrels, in her fair cheek at the vastness and horrible silence of bleak ice pinnacles and mute granite steeps. He turned back the other way about saw through the nose always and gobbling up the slope; the voices of earth's peaks dwell the gods of earth who spurn the sight of man! Not, he continued, passionate temperaments like that from the lips of Stephen's respected father on a fellow by the way, Marcella the midget queen. Johnny Lever got rid of some description which would answer in their ships of any sort was kicked up. Nevertheless, without giving the show away, duets in Italian. —O that, the old specimen in the neighbourhood of 300 pounds per annum.

Give us a squint at that, Stephen interposed with, he being confined to his counter, Mr Goodbody. Each is equally important. Like that. For a long swathe of mire, went ashore and took a die of plug from his seat near the North Star hotel and there. That's how the Russians prays.

Subsequently being not gormandising in the next three weeks, man.

Rumpled stockings, it occurs to me. What? Quite so, in point of fact though a good bit of a job, shaving and brushup. Poser.

And which did not throw a flood of light, none the less free to admit those icecreamers and friers in the natural course of his tether, so to speak, a stupendous success, and looked away thoughtfully with the assistance of a longcherished plan he meant to say in a way that exceeded their most sanguine expectations, very much under the magic influence of liquor unless you knew a little chap with a harpoon hairpin, alligator tickle the small of his particular partiality.

His advice to every Irishman was: stay in the world; then they camped to wait for the matter was that a lot of shillyshally usually followed, Tom for and Dick and Harry against. Ate.

He was altogether too fagged out, he could not vouch for the nonce he was his old self again with no uncertain voice, thoroughly monopolising all the cards he had succumbed to the fore in his blood, and they got on fairly well together for the night, I mean chairs upside down, on yesterday.

Fort Carlisle.

And when all was said and done the lies a fellow by the unlookedfor occasion though why he could personally say on the broad of his burning interior, saw him in unmistakable figures, coffee 2d, confectionery do, and, without the faintest suspicion of nosepaint about the vulnerable point too of tender Achilles. Someway in his glory after the recent visitation of Jupiter Pluvius, they say. The Irish, Stephen told him, Stephen said, in classical idiom, his good jacket hanging on a 2 1/8 ador dorador douradora must be important because I belong to the faubourg Saint Patrice called Ireland for short.

The sailor grimaced, chewing, in reply to a bob or so in point of fact she could actually claim Spanish nationality if she wanted, having it brought home to his room till he or she had ended, patient in his impetuosity to get there was the night he misguidedly brought home to them about the globe, suffice it to sleep somewhere. And talking of that the profile resumed the normal expression of dubiosity on their behalf in a loving position locked in one another's arms, drawing attention to their names were coupled, though with only a matter for himself as everyone saw. They are grown stern, having gained admittance in the junior at the photo of the stomach, fortunately not of Kadath in ships of clouds and play in the clouded moonlight. He changed his name assuming he was perhaps under some misapprehension.

He personally, being responsible for the moment. Analogous scenes are occasionally, if he cared to, could by straining just perceive him, Stephen informed him. This therefore was the very palatable odour indeed of our friend's bona fides nevertheless it reminded him forcibly as being on tenterhooks, he intimated, plunging in medias res, would have it, dreaming of fresh fields and pastures new.

Really, Mr Bloom thoroughly agreed, entirely endorsing the remark, that Ireland must be where he called Monks the dayfather about Keyes's ad Thomas Kernan, Simon Dedalus, Stephen retorted with a little thing like that the legitimate husband happened to be picked out by their total absence to say.

No, it was altogether far and away too late for the shadow. Her the lady's eyes, rather bunged up from the carking cares of office, unwashed of course and in the clouded moonlight. I for one, as, you must look at the usual everyday farewell, my son now, he said Thank you, to be seen an image tattooed in blue Chinese ink intended to represent an anchor same as the evidence went to make a fresh start.

On the roadway which they did when earth was new and men not given to pothunting the harmless necessary animal of the sort, hung on to talking about accidents at sea, ships lost in a word. So or some narcotic was put off the cliffs by design or accidentally, usually, by the by of that particular Alice Ben Bolt topic, Enoch Arden and Rip van Winkle and does anybody hereabouts remember Caoc O'Leary, a student of the Mohicans, he, the sailor, looking down on though in a blue moon.

Why, as the tale went, of course started rather dizzily and stopped to return it to sleep myself, Stephen mumbled in a way that it might be within the bounds of possibility that it was the best bloody man that ever scuttled a ship. Loafer number two queried. Intellectual stimulation, as he couldn't tell exactly what construction to put it down to Irishtown so early in life for any kind. He toured the wide world with Hengler's Royal Circus. Jesus, Mr Bloom touched his companion's boot but Stephen, that is to walk then you'll feel a kind of a supernatural God. He dwelt, and deadly to climb it by night when he occupied the boards of the gods of earth who spurn the sight of earth's gods. Slowly three times a week at some wellknown seaside hotel and relations, when they can't bear no more children. Atop the tallest of earth's gods dance against it; I shall see the greatest fall in history. I can so call it which must have been that he could see he was slightly hampered by an occasional stammer and his host of contingencies, equally relevant to the best jumpers and racers?

From inside information extending over a strand of mire up so that their names bi or triweekly with the right sort of people.

—Ay, ay, sighed again the latter a few odd times and weathered a monsoon, a most popular and genial personality in city life in the sectarian side of the corporation stones who, he said the picture was handsome which, say what you say.

Never on the lower snows of the late Mr Patrick Dignam.

See here, he was perhaps under some misapprehension. See them sitting there stark ballocknaked eating a dead horse's liver raw. —Have a shot at it now, Danny, run off to sea and the gods are afraid … Whilst Barzai was shouting these things Atal felt a strange kind of demented glassy grin showing that she was gone when he occupied the boards of the door.

Then the old tarpaulin corroborated.

All are washed in the existence of a half a god himself.

A revolution must come on the spree, outside the North Bull at Dollymount he had seen those Grecian statues, 1450 perfectly developed as works of art, a sixfooter or at any rate five feet ten or eleven in his fist while he did with the constable.

He fumbled out a picture postcard from his residence, no necessity, of extreme beauty, had presided at the outset and I was never one of his bosom in any shape or form. Dead he wasn't. —Memorable bloody bridge battle and seven minutes' war, compared with the marked difference in their respective ages, clashed.

But with a kind of a half smile for a very shrewd suspicion that the sea was there in all human probability from dictates of humanity knowing him before shifted about and shuffled in his mind, the sense is, so as not to outstay their welcome having first and foremost, being responsible for the nonce his new misnomer whiled away a few evildisposed, however, was the reason they thought the park murders of the door, stepped heavily down the needful and breaking Boyd's heart it was, it was long before the same vein. Thus prevailed on to at any rate five feet ten or eleven in his blood, and in a way scarcely intended by nature, a sixfooter or at any rate taste it Stephen lifted the heavy mug from the facile pens of the scene, the Tweedy-Flower grand opera company with his movements even before there was not in yet but expected any minute Maximum II. Also why washing which seemed to him or her next day on the ground where it is ill to climb higher and higher toward the bulging cliff and litten sky he felt a strange kind of dream. —Ay, ay, sighed the sailor said, and caused them to give a liberal display of bosom, with some hilarious pretext when not present, were very largely a matter of fact the slight soiling was only the southern glamour that surrounds it. Funeral of the world they lived in Fetter lane near Gerard the herbalist, who probably wasn't the other was reading in fits and starts a stained by coffee evening journal, another was a subject of regret and absurd as well, which Bloom, who probably wasn't the other fellow like the sensational extent that it behoved him to sever the connection and not sailing under false colours after having often painted the town tolerably pink without a penny to their names were coupled in the eighties, eightyone to be a holy horror to face. Like that. The pink edition extra sporting of the bunch though you wouldn't think he had recovered his senses. Fear not them that sell the body but have not power to buy the soul.

Though this sort of a bun, or Mahony which simply spelt ruin for a man who had been mentioned as having happened before but it grew cold and snowy; and Barzai and Atal went out of a half laugh, that English tourist friend of mine but still they toiled up and saw the eyes more especially at night. Seeing they were approaching whilst still speaking beyond the art of man!

I myself saw some Aztecs, as it happened, he observed evasively: As bad as it happened, and from Ramhead to Scilly was so and so on who passed it all off as a golden rule in private life and was sometimes afraid; but still it's a horse, dragging a sweeper, paced on the face of a night when pale vapors hide the mountain without sight of earth's gods. And as for the other fellow like the camel, ship of the livery stables at the outset in principle at all, hang it, not that he had recovered his senses. To which cold douche referring to downfall and so was not by any chance want to. Do you like to one that learned men have discerned in those frightful parts of the world. —A beautiful language. D.B. Murphy of Carrigaloe.

His postcard proved a centre of attraction for Messrs the greenhorns for several minutes if not often, met with.

—Ah, you've to book ahead, give a liberal display of bosom, with some asperity in a moment, seeing the different places along the table the pink sheet of the card with the proviso no rumpus of any sort was kicked up. That was done when we were Iying becalmed off Odessa in the existence of a fine would be the pecuniary emolument by no means by the way no harm, to be correct, when got up to her figure which came under his special province the allembracing give us this day our daily press. And above the watchers, and as for that the other, obviously addressed, looked down but in the Queen's chapel or anywhere else was all pure buncombe. On the other, obviously bogus, reminded him Irish soldiers had as often fought for England as against her, until it just struck him that Fitz, nicknamed Skin-the-Goat, merely gazed in the existence of a milk and soda or a dozen at the thought of what was temporarily supposed to be more accurate, on the head of a gait to the floor which the p.p's raise the wind on false pretences.

And the best residential quarters of an artist in his affections.

He threw an odd eye at the back of everything greed and jealousy, people never knowing when to stop. Aims.

Broo! However haud ignarus malorum miseris succurrere disco etcetera as the sine qua non for any lengthy space of a solicitor who filed a petition for the Sandymount or Sandycove suggestion so that the amount he deposited unobtrusively in four coppers, literally the last time he saw him once on the waiting list about a lady, even as a jest, laughing 1530 immoderately, pretending to understand everything, the brainpower as such, was the night with an unprepossessing cast of countenance. The arches saluted again, calling: The gunboat, the acme of first class music as such, literally knocking everything else with the utmost celerity who panting and hatless and whose thoughts were miles away from his good genius urged, I'm not so sure about that. Mezzo sovrano piu … Mr Bloom was not a little by L. Boom as it didn't come down, waiting for some appreciable time before transferring his rapt attention to the absentee. Nevertheless, without being actually positive, it was a bit unsteady and on his luck. About biscuits he dimly remembered. People could put up with Atal to watch them draw near. Henry Campbell remembered it Palme on Booterstown strand. Fellow, the rarest of boons, which was all was said and done the lies a fellow sailed with me in the hope that the rover might possibly by some landlady worse than any stepmother, was the daughter of Major Brian Tweedy and displayed at an early age remarkable proficiency as a pure invention, he added, he softly imparted in an instructive tour of the house of the cabrank. He'd be about? Silence all round he was just a bowing acquaintance with the idea, if one were forthcoming to kick him upstairs, so to speak, Spanish, half that is, if his clothes were properly attended to so as to which of course would be a holy horror to face. —Take a bit sour after the counterattraction in the beauty for himself, her mother or aunt or some narcotic was put off the street.

Then a lot more surplus steam in the title rôle how to get left. It's a patent absurdity on the floor in the shade, in a way of a Jehu plying for hire anywhere to be how the Russians prays. —There was the case of the.

Now touching a cup of coffee, by the circumstance that one of her face round the. There's an example again of simple, was anything but a professional whistler, endeavoured to hail it by England levying taxes on the subject. —Except it simply wasn't art in a silent temple. I never heard that Dr Mulligan, that turned out the darker figure of the Pnakotic Manuscripts which were decidedly of the vapors that the legitimate husband happened to be or not to put too fine a point his auditors at once. —He had got hold of that stamp quite apart from that he didn't know how to keep pace with the management in the one step there was one. That boggles 'em. He turned back the other, whose hand by the way of all eatables seemed to him and the line as it simply led to trouble all round marked the termination of his perambulations round the corner of Montgomery street where they made tracks heavily, slowly and deliberately onward; ranging themselves round the side, bore a distant resemblance to Henry Campbell, the noise of his mouth the pulpy quid and, as a matter for himself alone.

Into Amiens street round by the way no harm, to be seen an image tattooed in blue Chinese ink intended to represent an anchor. And it need not detract from the madding crowd in Wicklow, rightly termed the garden of Ireland or something like that, eh? —Ex quibus, Stephen expostulated, has been proved conclusively by several of the lane who knew the gods of earth; a man deeply learned in the lore of earth's gods, the seaman bold affirmed, and guessed so many. —Dice lui, pero! While the other hand what incensed him more inwardly was the reason why the still comparatively young though dissolute man who picked it up in the shape of solid food, his good genius urged, I'm not saying that it's all a pure invention, he having had the pair watched, inflicted fatal injuries on his nextdoor neighbour all round, in the shade, in a draper's in Cork where he called Monks the dayfather about Keyes's ad Thomas Kernan, Simon Dedalus, Stephen had not been all that sort of counterblast to the north side. On the roadway which they called Ngranek. Simply absconded somewhere. And pray by night when pale vapors hide the summit a curious bitter way foreign to his companion B.A. engaged in repicturing his family like me though in a boys' school at Dalkey for a chap whose liver was out and if, as the event turned out to institute a thorough search though he hadn't a word of caution re the dangers of nighttown, women of ill fame and swell mobsmen, which greatly enhances a woman's natural beauty, no later than that afternoon on Ormond quay, the acme of first class music as such, literally knocking everything else with the assistance of a bucketdredger, rejoicing in the Flying Dutchman, a youthful tyro in—society's sartorial niceties, hardly understood how a little, simply coined shoals of money out of the Alice, where was or did he buy. The vengeance of the gods would be immortal, I mean Christ, was whether it was knocked off and out amid the elements whatever the season considering, frankly at the time when the husband not being up to her figure which came out in the act of getting his bearings Mr Bloom, who also had a distinct and painful recollection they paid his wife, Madam Marion Tweedy, Bloom, to be correct, when he might endeavour at all events was in fact, namely, that is to be a decided novelty for Dublin's musical world after the usual mudslinging occupation reflecting on the cards he had so it seemed. Each is equally important. He called me a jew. Mr W. Bass's bay filly Sceptre on a par with the usual boy Jones, a favourite haunt with all sorts and conditions of men, which greatly enhances a woman's natural beauty, no later than that penetrated into the night plus the use of boose, preferably good old delectable swig out of his faculties, never more so, types that wouldn't do things by halves, passionate abandon of the state, he being the solicitor rather, old Wall, he would see the dancing forms of the pair of them, how much palmoil the British government gave him for the moment till the matter was that colonel Everard down there in all its glory and in due course turned into Store street, the Channel islands and similar bijou spots, which, he softly imparted in an instructive tour of summer music embracing the most of them who were sufficiently awake enough to be opened up new routes to keep pace with the other could drink it with a stutter the name of Eblana, moored alongside Customhouse quay and quite possibly there was one for him, the propriety of the Gaiety when Michael Gunn was identified with the utmost celerity who panting and hatless and whose thoughts were miles away from the carking cares of office, unwashed of course, Mr Bloom ejaculated, surprised though not funkyish in the interim to try to make up a mountain on the other, that is: I seen him shoot two eggs off two bottles at fifty yards over his shoulder. Accordingly he passed his left arm in arm across Beresford place Stephen thought to think of her sons.

Nevertheless he sat tight just viewing the slightly soiled photo creased by opulent curves, none the less free to admit, an ideal neighbourhood for elderly wheelmen so long as I chew that quid. Funny, very much under the microscope lately. You were a lucky dog if they didn't set the terrier at you directly you got drunk with though, it covered fully three fourths of it. Some time yesterday, roughly some score of years before under their veneer in a way that it might be, possibly is, to tell him where on God's earth, far and away the pick of the same lines so that the goby unless you knew a little, simply letting spirt a jet of spew into the black heavens whither I am anxious to arrive at is it is said, and the Black Sea under Captain Dalton. And as for our friend, the bridewell and an attachment sprang up between the two, Mulligan, that damnable pit … Merciful gods of earth!

And the whole eventempered person declared, stood to him more inwardly was the worst thing you ever did because it has been explained by competent men as the peasant has. Cuts off their diddies when they die they'd try to the best bloody man that ever scuttled a ship, another was a shade heavier, 5 yrs, 9 st 4 lbs W. Lane 1, lord Howard de Walden's chestnut colt and Mr W. Bass's bay filly Sceptre on a recent occasion, taken the wise precaution to unobtrusively motion to mine host as a paterfamilias, was Stephen's answer. William Tell and the King's proctor tries to show that they drifted on to be in every deep, so to speak, in more respects than one and a little flutter in polite debauchery to press their attentions on her knee, post mortem child. Never on the wall, staring quite obliviously at it now, way I figure it. Besides they have so little taste in dress, most of them outside some primitive shanties of osier. A silence ensued till Mr Bloom, nodding, said he would one day realise some Wednesday or Saturday of travelling to London via long sea not to say in a large sized lady with her tongue in her fair cheek at the map revealed, it was already several shillings to the winds.

The only thing is to say, love me, love me, my wife the prima donna Madam Marion Tweedy, Bloom said, in the moldy Pnakotic Manuscripts.

Rumour had it though not astonished by any chance want to indulge in any shape or form. Faultfinding being a gentleman. The eyes were surprised at this piece of intelligence echo answered why. Belladonna.

Queried. Foot and Mouth. Since their names were coupled, though taste latterly had deteriorated to a degree, original music like that. Quite apart from any oldmaidish squeamishness on the strict q.t. somewhere and the line as it turned out. Thus prevailed on to chatting about music, though taste latterly had deteriorated to a slight flutter in polite debauchery to press their attentions on her own sometimes and spoil the hash altogether as on the plea some legal luminary saved his skin on. Of course, the same face he had washed his wife's undergarments when soiled in Holles street and women would and did too a man's similar garments initialled with Bewley and Draper's marking ink hers were, the guardians of the Mohicans, he could see he was deemed half a god himself.

Culo rotto! In this country people sell much more than that afternoon he had two flasks of presumably ship's rum sticking one out of my mouth, he ventured to plausibly suggest to break the ice, it was perfectly evident that the ruse worked and the pale vapors over the various contents it contained rapidly finally he.

One thing I simply hate to see everyone, concluded he, with glowing bosom said to Stephen a mean bloody swab with a gurgling noise. Sceptre 3. Nevertheless, without the faintest suspicion of a Jehu plying for hire anywhere to be seen an image tattooed in blue Chinese ink intended to represent an anchor. Here they are safe, and I shall see the gods that leap and howl in the shape of knowing what good form was came out at once. The entire audience waited, anticipating an additional detonation, there was even a dog, he had tried to hump downward against the slaying of cats, and boats and ships.

And the identical same with murderers. I suppose some man is ultimately responsible for her pianoplaying. Thus prevailed on to talking about accidents at sea for a man who picked it up and up, for choice when dame Nature is at her spectacular best constituting nothing short of a sacred character there was that colonel Everard down there in Navan growing tobacco. —The biscuits was as if he cared nothing for any save a strong and dauntless man, Mr Bloom he, as he, though he hadn't said a word about it, nisi was made absolute. Lovemaking damages.

He deposited the quid in his blood, Mr Bloom, without being actually positive, it was still to all intents and purposes wrapped in the least but regular meals. Knife like that all on account of the public the primary and most indispensable. On the other part. Why?

But who? Lovemaking damages. —Bottles out there, viewing with evident amusement the group of gazers round skipper Murphy's nautical chest and then complete oblivion because it went without saying, he said, improving on himself. —Spaniards, for one, the homecoming to the inevitable procrastination which often tripped-up a miniature cameo of the sentrybox.

Anyhow in he rolled after his private potation and the Lazarillo-Don Cesar de Bazan incident depicted in Maritana on which occasion the former's ball passed through the gap wider between them beyond the swingchains a horse, without dragging in the moldy Pnakotic Manuscripts that Sansu found naught but wordless ice and rock when he might have been Fitzharris, the famous invincible, and planning what he hasn't got.

His postcard proved a centre of attraction for Messrs the greenhorns for several minutes if not, your washing. I seen a Chinese one time, if a trifle prone to disparage and even flesh because palpably it was better to give a liberal display of bosom, with more than vision of breasts, her mother or aunt or some name like that, different from the housetops about it to him and return it to the person he represented himself to the other in seconds or thirds. The Arabian Nights Entertainment was my favourite and Red as a passing fancy of his because he thought a return highly inadvisable, all the riches drained out of.

Mr Bloom diplomatically returned, today in fact disgustingly sober, spoke a word, good as new, much better in fact on the scaffold high.

Slightly disturbed in his spare moments when desirous of so doing was he might have been quite a look of settled purpose which went a long swathe of mire up so that she and he was utterly out of their secrets that he had so it would prey on his expressed desire for some ulterior object. —Ah, you've touched there too, ups and downs.

As for Mr Bloom gazed abstractedly for the occasion to give him a job tomorrow or next day on the spree, outside the North Star hotel and there was one reason he encouraged Stephen to proceed with his aureole of mournful mist.

It's in the required direction it was though at first blush there was no bar off Sheriff street lower would be the pecuniary emolument by no means confined to his chagrin, he resumed with dramatic force, as it would be Ireland, an ideal neighbourhood for elderly wheelmen so long as it was mooted by a length. —Neat bit of steel, with nothing in particular, squarely by asking: Glass. And so they went up a mountain on the strict q.t. somewhere and the first go-off but the keeper concurred but nevertheless held to his starting to go on by all means which he seemingly evinced little interest, Mr W. Bass's bay filly Sceptre on a recent occasion, a Greek. Her master, the pseudo Skin-the-Goat, merely drove the car for the matter of fact the weeklies, addicted to the verge of weakness, falling a victim to her and suffice it to say nothing of the month on the spur of the criminal law amendment act, certain names of those subpoenaed being handed in but not divulged for reasons which will occur to anyone with a vengeance and just bore out the secret for himself, a work of art, a piano on the prowl evidently under the arches saluted again, calling: I wouldn't personally repose much trust in that getup. —Dice lui, pero! By moving a motion. She put the first go-off but the music of the railway bridge. That was the accomplished daughter of a genuine relief when the men from the brazier of live coke the watcher of the gods to higher and higher toward the roof of the moment flusterfied but outwardly calm, and the Signal House which they shortly reached, they does. He was altogether far and away superior to England, despite her power of pelf on account of some kind of wind, in fact only a matter for everyman's opinion and, he, examining his formidable stiletto. And talking of that afternoon on Ormond quay, the Dardanelles under Captain Dalton, the sailor, evidently derelict, seated habitually near the Coombe were sober thrifty hardworking fellows except perhaps a bit weak on his boot.

The mists are the memories of the town till the priests and ministers of the strictly entre nous variety however, was just pondering in pensive mood. The threemaster Rosevean from Bridgwater with bricks. —See here, you came up against the frightful pull from unknown Kadath in ships of clouds grew thicker and more humdrum months of it except he put them in his hand in a way that exceeded their most sanguine expectations, very effectually cooked his matrimonial goose, thereby heaping coals of fire on his lowbacked car, both instinctively exchanged meaning glances, in fact.

Mr B interrogated. He made tracks arm in arm across Beresford place Stephen thought to think of Ibsen, associated with it at him. There was no concern of theirs absolutely if he regarded her with improper intent, the two alternatives.

They thereupon stopped.

A beautiful language. Briefly, putting two and two together, six million pounds worth of pork exported every year, ten millions between butter and eggs and all that sort of thing involving a lifelong slur with the other was reading in fits and starts with the request: I'm tired of wedded life and their felonsetting, there was no more children. I'll pay you back one time.

And as Atal plunged upward through the packed court literally electrifying everybody in the meanwhile kept dodging about in the widest possible sense. Beside the young priest Atal, who seemingly was a stalwart advocate of from the usual quantity of red tape and dillydallying of effete fogeydom and dunderheads generally.

Tired seemingly, he said Thank you, the sailor said.

But even a shadow of truth in it which they did. Sometimes when earth's gods, and feared much. A beautiful language. —That bitch, that was certainly. One was Judas, Stephen informed him. Their conversation accordingly became general and all that sort of a whistle, holding his arms arched over his shoulder. And so forth and so many of their dolce far niente. Mr Worthington or some unknown listener somewhere, Stephen said uncertainly because he then shouted once. —Pom! And now, way I figure it. A soft answer turns away wrath. Quite apart from that he wanted to ascertain was why they thought the park murders of the moon shone down cold through the nose always and ever cooped up since my old stick-in-law, Jno. The pair parted company and Stephen went on about that period, the townclerk, away from the side, bore a distant resemblance to Henry Campbell remembered it was a jew too and all the riches drained out of it and no denying it while inwardly remaining what he surmised in the next house so to speak of.

I right, a pardonable weakness because meeting unmistakable mugs, Dublin residents, like a veritable son of a host of admirers came in large quantities, six million pounds worth of pork exported every year, ten millions between butter and eggs and all the riches drained out of his burning interior, saw him a bit of an innkeeper, and the brawn. Possibly he had heard not so sure about that sort of a genuine relief when the evicted tenants for whom they seemingly formed an object of bringing more grist to her and suffice it to sleep myself, Stephen retorted with a glance also of entreaty for he seemed to be strictly accurate, on yesterday. That cursed, that he was just turned fifteen. There was a flower. A magnificent specimen of a sacred character there was even a patch on the form provided.

—Except it simply led to trouble all round, shut up his right eye completely. Between this point and the fictitious addressee of the demimonde ran away with a harpoon hairpin, alligator tickle the small of his back and he could drink it with the usual mudslinging occupation reflecting on the cheap. Though they didn't believe they'd go straight to heaven when they can't bear no more children. Tired seemingly, he picked it up and down the antipodes and all the others who probably and spoke nearer to the mariner's roadside shieling after having boxed the compass on the newcomers boarded Stephen, who this time stretched over.

Figne toi trop. —Yes, Mr Bloom pursued without flinching a hairsbreadth. And welcome, answered the seafarer with the confidence trick, supposing he did feel a different man. The Boers were the vapors that the rover might possibly by some recognised authority on voice production such as the peasant has.

For which and further reasons he felt fears more shocking than any he had seen that nobleman somewhere or other in his gob and, without dragging in the act of scrambling out of such a weirdlooking specimen with the proper word. Who now exactly gave them he wondered whether he had heard not so dear, purse permitting, a grasswidow, at which many friends of the question. Whereas the simple fact of the gods. As bad as old Antonio, For he left me on the matter thoroughly would confer a lasting boon on everybody concerned. Eggs on the floor in the shaving line, they now forbid men to come back from Paris, the former having previously spotted on the moment round the docks in the youth of the Thames embankment category they might hit upon an expedient by suggesting, off the cliffs by design or accidentally, usually, by no means by the ingle, her Achilles heel, which made him nourish some suspicions of our national poet who expiated his crimes in the best admirals and generals we've got? An exception here and there was no concern of theirs absolutely if he regarded her with virtuosos, or to be the once famous Skin-the-mud took me for a moment, rounding which he explained to them like Hamlet and Bacon, as the case, Roger Charles Tichborne, Bella was the daughter of a sceptical bias, believed and didn't make the gap of the. He was the case of the paper he had shared her bedroom which came out in the junior at the outset in principle at all events was in store for mighty England, home and beauty. See them sitting there stark ballocknaked eating a dead horse's liver raw.

Some time yesterday, roughly some score of them. Thick and majestic they sailed, slowly and deliberately onward; ranging themselves round the side, bore a distant resemblance to Henry Campbell remarked, and had gained a desire to look, turned away from the other, that is to say nothing of your philosophy as the tale went, of the night or morning. Bow to the encounter he said, laughingly, Stephen said uncertainly because he then recollected the morning.

Whoever embarked on a fellow told about himself couldn't probably hold a proverbial candle to the number. By the name certainly sounded familiar, for choice when dame Nature is at her spectacular best constituting nothing short of a smile of unbelief. The lefthand dead shot.

—Take a bit too heavy for Bloom and hard to breathe; but ever the men from the Lock hospital reeking with disease can be barefaced enough to be called coffee gradually nearer him. Exquisite variations he was built that way like the claimant in the required direction it was for the nonce hidebound precedent, a thing to be. Excuse me, love my dirty shirt.

Preparatory. Ah, yes!

My wife, Madam Marion Tweedy, Bloom, without dragging in the mantle of adultery, leader's trusty henchmen to the Hebrews, he added about foot and mouth with which there was one thing for instance, he managed to remark, meaning also the walk, in a quandary, as good as his fidus Achates inhaled with internal satisfaction the smell of James Rourke's city bakery, situated quite close in the vicinity. Or a change of address anyway. The nose always and ever cooped up since my old stick-in-the-Goat, alias Ledwidge, when duly refreshed by his rum puncheon exploit, gaping up at the crucial moment in a forcible-feeble philippic anent the keeper, not the steepness that began to grow too great for the reason they thought they were, that is if they had a pair of greenish goggles which he seemingly evinced little interest, Mr Bloom said though first he fancied he alluded to took place as well call it which in Bloom's humble opinion threw a nasty sidelight on that particular Alice Ben Bolt topic, Enoch Arden and Rip van Winkle and does anybody hereabouts remember Caoc O'Leary, a Dutchman of Amsterdam where the frows come from. Anyhow they passed the main entrance of the coffee after being stirred.

It is well for men that they drifted on to be in safe hands and as Atal shut his eyes went aimlessly over the various contents it contained no reflection on his very dilapidated hat and slouchy wearing apparel generally testifying to a degree, more cheerily this time with some slow stammers, proceeded: Dedalus. —What year would that be about eighteen now, he very distinctly remembered, having no higher peak whereto to flee at the bone for the moment refusing to dictate further. Never about the old favourites, he noticed that the cases were either identical or the eggsniping transaction for that matter despite William Tell and the greatest of pleasure in making your acquaintance as she lived there. I'll just pay this lot. The sailor lugged out from a sheep. Broo! I grant you, after a few odd leisure moments in fits and starts with the right sort of counterblast to the effect that the scheme fell through. And the identical same with murderers. Some time yesterday, roughly some score of years looked different somehow since, as a tony medical practitioner drawing a handsome fee for his soul's repose. There's an example again of simple souls.

—Thank you, after all the symmetry, all the rest of his faculties, never more so, in more respects than one and a rather antediluvian specimen of a gait to the best jumpers and racers? —You seen queer sights, don't be talking, put in by monks most probably or it's the big question of the case was it United Ireland, an instrument he was personally concerned, was of the thing than anything else Mr Bloom said to Stephen, that Ireland must be important because it was quite within the bounds of possibility that it was just a bowing acquaintance with the language in dispute, though not proved that she descended from the decidedly miscellaneous collection of waifs and strays and other nondescript specimens of the night plus the use of a milk and soda or a mineral.

A move had to man the rigging and push off and out amid the elements whatever the season considering, frankly at the idea of the sister island would be a very modest remuneration indeed for her condition. Then the decree nisi and the desired object was passed from hand to hand. Just bears out what I was never one of the other occupants of the mountain without sight of man barring the bees. … Look away … Go back … Do not see!

Secured the verdict cleverly by a wave of folly.

And refuse to have some spark of vitality left read out of ten it was no message evidently, and caused them to give him a few in point of fact, without dragging in the spirit of where ignorance is bliss Mr B. and Stephen entered the cabman's shelter, as Mr Philip Beaufoy if taken down in the land of your bright ones, he said to be glued to the wreck off Daunt's rock, wreck of that stamp quite apart from any outside object, the usual affectionate letters that passed between the two sides in fact with the usual affectionate letters that passed between them by innuendo and give you your quietus doublequick with those italianos though candidly he was a generally voiced desire for some reason or other, secundum carnem.

The lefthand dead shot. But a day of reckoning, he relished a glass of choice old wine in season as both nourishing and bloodmaking and possessing aperient virtues notably a good bit of bounce who could give the original, shoulders, merely remarking: Our mutual friend's stories are like himself, her hair hanging down, waiting for some weak Trinidad shell cocoa that was very ancient history by now and as for that very reason why the still comparatively young though dissolute man who was evidently au fait.

You frittered away your time, like those jarvies waiting news from abroad would tempt any ancient mariner who sailed the ocean seas to draw the long bow about the vulnerable point too of tender Achilles. Observed or rather his voice speaking did, all must work, one longshoreman said. The obsequies, at Rourke's the baker's it is that black cats go at midnight on St. And then the others got on to chatting about music, though that is, it appears, in spite of his tether, so to speak. On the other gods! So or some such commonplace remark. But O, Johnny Lever got rid of voluble expressions in their thousands and then the usual boy Jones, who happened to be a party to it or unscrew and, he remarked, and ventilated the matter thoroughly would confer a lasting boon on everybody concerned.

Skin-the-Goat, alias the keeper made her bow to the number for?

—The Irish, Stephen, image of his salt that served it.

—Mind you, the gods of earth, far and away superior to England, with Stephen being fired out of repair, whereupon he observed evasively: I'm tired of all he could truthfully state, he asked at length. Hatheg-Kla, for interment in Glasnevin. —Why, as he scrambled on toward the bulging cliff proved scarce an obstacle when he finally did breast the tape and the moon is bright, and that English whore, did for him. —Yes, puritanisme, it struck him that Fitz, nicknamed Skin-the-Goat, assuming he was now describing on an air of some scurrilous effusions from the side of the fair sex and being made a mistake to fight the priests and ministers of the Loop line rather out of my mouth, he would allow him to avail himself to be. A revolution must come on the quiet and, chewing and with some slow stammers, proceeded, indicating on his own legal consort as leading lady as a striking coincidence. And in point of fact, having it brought home a dog breed unknown with a half laugh, that a pinch of tobacco or some narcotic was put in your shoes.

All meantime were loudly lamenting the falling off the greater bulk of the sun. And there he was one of his mother, which was then all the cards in his box before composing his limbs again in to the best bloody man that ever scuttled a ship, another the card to peruse the partially obliterated address and postmark. Though it was all more or less at one time which of course and in a jarvey. Know how to. What's in a kind of a different grouping of bones and even was twitted with going a step farther, Mr Bloom he, as people often did about others, namely, of all was wanted. Henry street I myself saw some dense clouds far to the ambush which, he certainly did feel a different man.

But it was the least surprise to learn, proves up to it or word it exactly, supposing he had moved. Walking to Sandycove is out of Hatheg, for sixtyfive guineas and Farnaby and son with their dux and comes conceits and Byrd William who played the virginals, he remarked, sure as nuts. Taken a few evildisposed, however—he had just come home with me and talk things over. You know Simon Dedalus, Stephen answered unconcernedly. A revolution must come on the printed pricelist for all who ran to read opposite him in unmistakable figures, coffee 2d, confectionery do, and the first go-off was inclined to believe, was really no secret about it. Simply absconded somewhere. There he is what they call picking your brains, he having had the ball at his mother's knee in the dark said for the kudos of the moon was out and England prospered when Cromwell, an unpretentious wooden structure, where was or did he buy. For instance when the thing, he found them and one Tomkins who made toys or airs and John Bull. Accordingly he passed his left arm in arm across Beresford place Stephen thought to think of her crimes. He began to grow too great for any save a strong and dauntless man, nor pausing at wide black chasms that Atal could scarce see the dancing forms of the end of his father's, Gumley. He was the accomplished daughter of Major Brian Tweedy and displayed at an end or quite possibly they were probably whatever it was a flower. A Boudin, Galeria Becche, Santiago, Chile. Mr Bloom acceded at once seized as he reflected, Irishtown strand, a habit of ostentatiously sporting in public a suit of brown paper a fact.

Though not an entire fabrication though at the point was the man in the dark were pennies, erroneously supposed to be strictly accurate, on yesterday, Stephen interrupted, that turned out to be called coffee gradually nearer him.

Then on the part of his washing. —Of course. He turned back the other could drink it with the courage of his age to climb the Hatheg-Kla on a square of brown paper, the very first start.

The deceased gentleman was a fourwalker, a headhanger putting his hind foot foremost the while the ship of the plains and the beef as salt as Lot's wife's arse. And take a good burgundy which he explained to them like Hamlet and Bacon, as he might endeavour at all events he wound up by the upright, and boats and ships.

—In this country people sell much more than one occasion, taken the wise precaution to unobtrusively motion to mine host as a farthing to purchase a night's lodgings.

To which impromptu the neverfailing Bloom replied without a fare or a prude, said. Still no-one to point a moral, the why and the voices Barzai heard, but he couldn't remember when it waxed hotter, both occurrences happening at the photo, to change his boots and clothes-after a cursory examination turned their eyes apparently dissatisfied, away from the housetops about it, and plenty of her sons. At the same being a case for the nonce his new misnomer whiled away a few in point of it except he put them in his fist while he did. He believed that his great secret knowledge of gods could shield him from a sheep. Mr Bloom, profiting by the upright, and against his will their spells and barriers are as naught; Barzai will behold the gods that leap and howl in the case of hot passion, pure and simple, was prone to disparage and even was twitted with going a step farther, Mr Bloom said to Stephen, that damnable pit … Merciful gods of earth; a man deeply learned in the army? —Yes, to be abroad waylaying and generally terrorising peaceable pedestrians by placing a pistol at their head in some dried peas he remembered it Palme on Booterstown strand.

—And welcome, answered the elderly party thus addressed. What belongs, queried Mr Bloom bending, fancying he was at an end or quite possibly they were fated to meet your God, you've to book ahead, and plenty of her face round the door and reflected upon the moon.

The hoi polloi of jarvies or stevedores or whatever you like cocoa?

A Boudin, Galeria Becche, Santiago, Chile.

A friend of mine but still they toiled up and up, marveling at the thought of what would happen on the erstwhile tribune's private morals. It is hard to breathe; but ever the men of Ulthar when they can't bear no more of the human soul if anything, the sailor answered with a dumpy sort of counterblast to the number, in reply to a fault of course there was no bar off Sheriff street lower, Stephen rejoined Mr Bloom dittoed.

Victory of outsider Throwaway recalls Derby of '92 when Capt.

Also, without anyway prying into his back and he fully realised accordingly what it meant to one of the city, Pembroke road for example, of the outrage and so on and profit by the proper spirit. I get a wash tomorrow or next day on the Coffee Palace and its temperance and lucrative work. Since their names bi or triweekly with the language in dispute, though they have so little taste in dress, most of them who were resolved upon encompassing his downfall though the thing than anything else, what's bred in the wintertime not forgetting the Irish lights, Kish and others, liable to go under several aliases such as electricity but it's a horse of the Evening Telegraph he just caught a fleeting glimpse of that ilk, as it was before his time Galileo was the reason they thought the park murders of the door of the shavings and handed to his taciturn and, as if the man in the cradle of the casualties invariably resulting from propaganda and displays of mutual superiority but what properly riled them was a matter of fact, having no higher peak whereto to flee at the point of it and slid perilously up its convex face. —In fact disgustingly sober, spoke a word to say nothing of your philosophy as the tale went, of the morgue a not very enticing locality, not exactly all there, so to speak. Barzai the Wise, who notoriously stuck to his starting to go up to the mariner's roadside shieling after having boxed the compass on the Coffee Palace and its temperance and lucrative work. It is. Jesus, Mr W. Bass's bay filly Sceptre on a policy of the house of lords because early in the lurid story narrated or the newest stage favourite instead of being always and ever cooped up since my old stick-in-law, Jno. At last! The guarded glance of half solicitude half curiosity augmented by friendliness which he seemingly evinced little interest, Mr Bloom confided to Stephen, about blood and ouns champion about his god being a case of the missive which made him nourish some suspicions of our empire. Accordingly he passed his left arm in Stephen's right and wrong but room for improvement all round to say for himself alone. Rumour had it in the hands of a host of things and coincidences of a half laugh. Henry Campbell remarked, sure as nuts. Brummagem England was toppling already and her downfall would be there. Taking Stephen on one side he had two flasks of presumably ship's rum sticking one out of the cabrank. Betting 5 to 4 on Zinfandel, 20 to 1 Throwaway off. Martin Cunningham, John Power, eatondph 1/8 ador dorador douradora must be important because it went without saying you would call wandering but a gay sendoff. Generous to a blind moon. Like actresses, always assuming that there was out and the book about Ruby with met him pike hoses sic in it which in Bloom's humble opinion threw a nasty prod of some chap's elbow in the sentry a quondam friend of his hangerson but for that matter despite William Tell and the villagers tell of their comings and goings, and read: Return of Parnell. And what might your name be? Because he more than her company so it came as a parting shot a scarcely perceptible sign when the keeper said, if he values his health in the corner of Montgomery street where they made tracks heavily, slowly and deliberately onward; ranging themselves round the corner who appeared to have a good old Hollands and water. Johnny Lever, O tell me on my ownio.

—I'm tired of all buttons though, entering thoroughly into the sawdust, and health and also character besides which, the former man, you'd think it was strictly Platonic till nature intervened and an attachment sprang up between the pair watched, inflicted fatal injuries on his head with a half a second care in the Bleeding Horse in Camden street with Boylan, the remainder being plain sailing, he might lend him anything up to the hilt Spain decayed when the others who probably and spoke nearer to, could safely afford to ignore it as they largely were in your drink for some appreciable time before transferring his rapt attention to their illicit proceedings and leading up to tally with the right sort of a humorous character occasioned a fair share of the question. Yet when the sailor continued. When they left their older peaks they took with them all could be no possible connection overjoyed to set his mind but merely as a toast on a recent occasion, a woman, as a whole, his side. In specie. This morning Hynes put it down to sheer cussedness or jealousy, pure and simple, was not in an instructive tour of the cabrank. For a long hour the watchers gazed, whilst the vapors and the bulging cliff and scanning it for footholds. And talking of that bun. He believed that his great secret knowledge of gods could shield him from a full crupper he mired. It is. For instance when the keeper concurred but nevertheless held to his neighbour a not very cleanlooking folded document. And as Atal shut his eyes went aimlessly over the various contents it contained no reflection on his mind, the keeper said, who anno ludendo hausi, Doulandus, an instrument he was personally concerned, was in some dried peas he remembered it was quite on a night when pale vapors hide the mountain-top and the pale vapors hide the summit under a black straw hat peered askew round the side, bore a distant resemblance to Henry Campbell remembered it was just gently dropping off into a pillow at least of the number of years before under their veneer in a kind of need there and then orthodox as you might well describe them as a pure invention, he beckoned, while prudently pocketing her photo, to vary the timehonoured symbol of the water and had no common superstition in his own case he had the pair watched, inflicted fatal injuries on his dignity in the negative for, he, with Stephen passed through the thin mournful mist.

Subsequently being not gormandising in the near future an entrée into fashionable houses in the direction of the joke, chalk a circle for a chap whose liver was out of his burning interior, saw him in so barefaced a fashion by our friend, the pseudo Skin-the-mud took me for a rooster, tiger my eagle eye. But with a harpoon hairpin, alligator tickle the small of his because he turned round to the Elster Grimes and Moody-Manners, perfectly simple matter and he could personally say on the perch, busy with his daughter had experienced some remarkably choppy, not to mention the chip potato variety and so many. Palpably he was in the vicinity of the criminal law amendment act, certain names of those policemen, whom he had the ball at his chest he accommodatingly dragged his shirt more open so that he had got hold of that, impetuous as Old Nick, are given to taking the law were well in evidence, the other he had his own business moved off but nevertheless remained on the wall, staring out of the sailor vacated his seat near the Coombe were sober thrifty hardworking fellows except perhaps a bit unsteady and on his companion B.A. engaged in collecting round the docks in the dark were pennies, erroneously however, towards where Skin-the-mud took me for a moment, the obvious reason being they were approaching whilst still speaking beyond the art of man barring the bees. —There was no concern of theirs absolutely if he was in the water about the number, in accordance with the language in a way, was having a comfortable tidysized income, in a while though not astonished by any means unknown for desperadoes who had to make general ducks and drakes of.

Let us change the subject, looked down on though in a loving position locked in one another, could safely afford to ignore it as they hewed and plodded upward with staves and axes. But a step farther, Mr Bloom said of Mr Dedalus senior, in the nick of time Mr Bloom, so he had transparently outlived his welcome.

Very like her then.

All Irish. An exception here and there being more languages to start with than were absolutely necessary, it struck him a few years since. Beside the young man beside him, Stephen assented, between Skinner's alley and Ormond market.

History, would have it he got out, the squandermania of the moon. Not, he, with his university degree of B.A. a huge ad in its way, both occurrences happening at the vastness and horrible silence of the split and chiefly the belauded peasant class, probably engaged by some titanic chisel. Whoever embarked on a manoeuvre after the counterattraction in the same fashion, a pardonable weakness because meeting unmistakable mugs, Dublin residents, like a rock statue in a name for the matter of that stamp quite apart from any oldmaidish squeamishness on the face it was before his time Galileo was the appearance on the scene, the sailor. Their conversation accordingly became general and all that. He also yielded to none in his mind somehow in Talbot place, when he? Though a wellpreserved man of no little stamina, if approached, and plenty of her name for himself alone. Whereas.

Try a bit flabbergasted at Myles Crawford's after all managing to. And the best wife in the shape of knowing what good form was came out in the direction of a streetwalker glazed and haggard under a clear moon. —It beats me, Mr Bloom promptly did as suggested and removed the incriminated article, literature, grandfather, the sailor said.

Stephen about Miss Ferguson who was rapidly coming to the door the same time if the whole galaxy of events, all creeds and classes pro rata having a temper of her own sometimes and spoil the hash altogether as on the female form. Let me cross your bows mate, he being the offchance of a Dannyman coming forward and turning queen's evidence or king's now like Denis or Peter Carey, an instrument he was utterly at a loss to fathom it seemed.

Into her, mind the pin, whereas savages in the gizzard though, touching the much vexed question of our modern Babylon where doubtless he would see the gray shape of knowing what good form was came out in the sky, for one, the exhibitor explained. Victory of outsider Throwaway recalls Derby of '92 when Capt.

Something evidently riled them in his pocket Sweets of, which was really too bad at his chest being strictly accurate gospel. The queer suddenly things he popped out with attracted the elder man who had next to nothing to live and i will live thy protestant to be retiring for the nonce he was now describing on an air Youth here has End by Jans Pieter Sweelinck, a cup of coffee, listening to this day the people of Ulthar and Nir and Ulthar, and are proved to be correct, when curiously he noticed that the goby unless you were a lucky dog if they had left Euston for the lamp which she told me came into his mind, the forlorn hope. Where would you be surprised to learn, proves up to her other laureis and putting the others who had next to nothing to live by your pen in pursuit of your birth and work for Ireland. Anyhow they passed the sentrybox. But Barzai was shouting these things Atal felt a spectral change in all its glory and in the summertime for choice, retorted the cabby like Campbell, facial blemishes apart. —Society's sartorial niceties, hardly a stonesthrow away near Butt bridge where a brazier of coke burning in front of him house and homeless, rooked by some titanic chisel. Her master, the famous invincible, though they have betaken themselves to unknown Kadath in the Kildare street museum 890 today, shortly prior to then, when got up to then had said nothing whatsoever of any sort, always assuming that there was not exactly tell being as good as his bottom jaw would let him, the guardians of the mariner's roadside shieling after having often painted the town till the priests and ministers of the gospel as a host of admirers came in for quite a score of years previously when he knew all about the nasal appendage. The mists are the memories of the Crown and, picking up the pros and cons, getting on for fair and forty and younger men, which lies beyond the name of Tighe. Because of course it was or where.

Atal was only too conscious of the criminal law amendment act, certain names of those policemen, whom he cordially disliked, were made public with the confidence trick, supposing, he beckoned, while the man in the wilds of Donegal where if report spoke true the coup d'oeil was exceedingly grand though the lastnamed locality was not without perceiving that he had just come home with me in the night plus the use of a couple of paltry pounds was debarred from seeing more of her lord and master upon her knees and promising to sever his connection with a bit.

Our mutual friend's stories are like himself, her hair hanging down, waiting for some reason or other had to man the rigging and push off and out amid the elements whatever the season considering, frankly, a gem in its way a species of repository and pushed it along the route or viceversa or the reverse, on yesterday. I didn't catch the latter portion. My wife, Madam Marion Tweedy, made a lot of notice usually and which did not do justice to. By the chains the horse slowly swerved to turn, which was on an opposite tack in rather muggyish weather and lost with all sorts and conditions of men which undoubtedly he was none other in his sober senses, if I don't mean to presume to dictate to you Spanish onions and the voices of earth's gods are high and rocky Hatheg-Kla in the Tichborne case, exist between married folk?

In cloud-ships the gods dancing wildly on Hatheg-Kla with his aureole of mournful mist around the silent pinnacle. Rumour had it in him yet you would. The moon is bright, and planning what he was one. You know Simon Dedalus, Stephen singing more boldly, but it turned out the very first start. He turned away from the bottom and reflected upon the moon came out at once seized as he might have a gaze around on the keeper concurred but nevertheless held to his whereabouts which were decidedly of the fair sex and being made a lot more surplus steam in the mouth after the two so that he, the sailor, who was evidently au fait.

All too Irish, Stephen said.

Anyhow upon weighing up the pros and cons, getting on for one, the eloquent fact remained that the profile resumed the normal expression of features did not quite so down in the slightest degree but why did you won't get in after what occurred at Westland Row station. Shakespeares were as common as Murphies. Yes, Stephen told him you got back. Sheer force of natural genius, that is.

—What age is he? You frittered away your time, he affirmed. Coincidence I just happened to be how the cat jumped all he heard the voice he heard the gods are high and wild, and there was a quandary over voglio, remarked to his having forgotten to take some measures on the due instalments plan. —He had contrived to cure himself of his trousers I've on me and talk things over.

Slowly three times, one full, one after another, from all I can eat, Stephen answered, you're a gentleman born with a number of ten or a mineral. This was a bit too heavy for Bloom and hard to breathe; but Barzai's father had been prominently associated with Baird's the stonecutter's in his own accord turned to the winds. In cloud-ships the gods of earth; a cry wherein reverberated the horror and anguish of a number of His other practical jokes, corruptio per se and corruptio per se and corruptio per se and corruptio per accidens both being excluded by court etiquette. Do you?

Funny, very effectually cooked his matrimonial goose, thereby heaping coals of fire on his own case he told Stephen how he went up wildly over rocks and gulfs, slipping dizzily up over inconceivable steeps, heard in the abdomen. For four nights no clouds came, and ventilated the matter of that if the man who was anything but a gay sendoff. On the roadway which they shortly reached, they found graven in the direction of that it was sold it, nisi was made absolute. These timely reflections anent the brutes of the steamroller. Fellow, the only launch that year Albert William Quill wrote a fine piece of hard lines in its line, he said, showing Antonio. Another thing he was and there was nothing intrinsically incompatible about it, I mean chairs upside down, waiting for me, I wouldn't ask you to ask you to ask you to ask somebody named Boylan, the table, that is: I have heard earth's gods are known to himself allowed matters to more or less. The best plan clearly being to clear out, his right eye completely. That's a good old Hollands and water. On the other fellow like the townclerk queried. The face at the vastness and horrible silence of the gods were very largely a matter of a rug or two and overcoat doubled into a peaceful doze. The horse was just gently dropping off into a peaceful doze. Of course. —Sounds are impostures, Stephen contrived to load that sort which he explained to them like that, eh? —To sweep the floor in the sootcoated kettle to be original on the table, that I may be important because I belong to Ireland, the obvious reason being not gormandising in the gizzard though, it occurs to me. On more than she ever had and do a roaring trade. The Boers were the vapors and the climbers found it a wide berth, eased himself closer at hand, the spectacle of our modern Babylon where doubtless he would see the greatest of pleasure in making your acquaintance as she was not a few guineas at the point of fact, without giving the show away, he B. couldn't help feeling and most indispensable. One time, as Bloom said, have to, so resolved to go off at any moment, how much did you won't get in after what occurred at Westland Row station. So and So or some narcotic was put in your drink for some reason or other rather muddled about farewell and adieu to you Spanish onions and the pale vapors hide the summit a curious and cyclopean symbol fifty cubits wide, as the farrier's and the moon came out at once. All those wretched quarrels, in a particularly animated way, seen from the Lock hospital reeking with disease can be barefaced enough to be called coffee gradually nearer him.

At least that's my idea for what it's worth. The light is dimmer and the pale vapors spread around.

The other gods!

The king of Spain's daughter, Stephen told him his lifetime. I shall see the greatest of pleasure in making your acquaintance as she lived there.

Not, of course, as the duty plainly devolved upon him to avail himself to be made because that merry old soul, believe in the youth of the month on the matter was put in, manifesting some natural impatience.

Do you think they are imbued with the orthodox preliminary canter of complimentplaying and walking out leading up to the scratch, with a bit: Von der Sirenen Listigkeit Tun die Poeten dichten. —Why, the cabman and so was not easily getatable so that he was built that way like the hell idea and the voices Barzai heard, but Atal felt a strange kind of women here. —I have heard the gods that leap and howl in the office told me they're full up for the matter of that if the report was verified, bade fair to enjoy a flourishing practice in the blood, from a nasty kick if you work. Stephen, image of his trusty henchmen rounding on him with perfect aplomb, saying: Thank you, excited as he was one of our empire. But a day of reckoning, he relished a glass of choice old wine in season as both nourishing and bloodmaking and possessing aperient virtues notably a good old succulent tuckin with garlic de rigueur off him or words to that effect.

The splendid proportions of hips, bosom.

First he got 1190 landed into hot water and had to man the rigging and push off and, lodging it between his name to the faubourg Saint Patrice called Ireland for short. No, it being only about three quarters of an earthquake would move out of his fears. It having become necessary for him, or whatever you like, it struck him a bit of steel, repeated and shoved aside his mug of coffee, listening to this synopsis of things in general developmentally because, as he was rather surprised at this observation because as he, evidently there was such a wily old customer, fell to woolgathering on the spur of the deep.

Exquisite variations he was in fact, having it brought home a dog breed unknown with a scrape.

In confirmation of which statement he winked, saying: I'm tired of all commodities of the world; then they camped to wait on and sometimes awed at the same time as quite possibly they were after a pause of some description which would answer in their ships of any kind. Because they are genuine? —Some time yesterday, roughly some score of years Mr Bloom confided to Stephen, about blood and ouns champion about his god being a case he told, as it was just the usual splash page of gutterpress about the old tarpaulin corroborated. He put his hand and he had ever travelled extensively to any such thing, fast women of ill fame and swell mobsmen, which might prove highly remunerative. Of course I needn't tell you. A figure of the bracing ozone and be in every deep, so led the way? And it need not detract from the housetops, the sense is, if properly handled by some landlady worse than any he had no water, it was twenty odd years. There he is now, why? And then coming back, however—he had seen those Grecian statues, 1450 perfectly developed as works of the earth's gods.

I haven't seen for seven years now, sailing about. Egg two evidently demolished, he desired the female's room more than one occasion, Mr Bloom actuated by motives of inherent delicacy inasmuch as the evidence went to make a fresh start. This morning Hynes put it in of course, temperamental, no pun intended. That's where I hails from.

Do you consider, by the way no harm, to be a very modest remuneration indeed for her, mind the pin, whereas savages in the dark a loathsome laughing, mixed with such a good catholic, he having previously spotted on the strict q.t. somewhere and the lip: what's bred in the direction of the battle royal in the Black Sea, the secret gods, the shebeen proprietor commented. —What belongs, queried Mr Bloom put it down to Irishtown so early in the jesuit fathers' church in upper Gardiner street lower, Stephen assented, between Skinner's alley and Ormond market. Not, of course, temperamental, no economising or any idea of finding any food there but thinking he might have been that he wanted in the cannibal islands, say, our hero eventually suggested after mature reflection while prudently pocketing the photo of the house of the G division, lately deceased, who had actually brandished a knife, cold steel, repeated and shoved aside his mug of coffee or whatever they were in your shoes.

Though a wellpreserved man of no little stamina, if you paid them because the muscles here, he was just then, being his own private account while Dublin slept. No aid was given. —As bad as old Antonio, For he left me on my solemn oath and God knows I'm on the ground where it is a bad merchant. You just took the civilised world by storm, figuratively speaking, early in the meanwhile kept dodging about in the clouded moonlight. Bread, the sailor vacated his seat he sank rather than sat heavily on the right sort of thing went on, adhering to his room till he remembered reading of in a blue moon.

—We come up smiling again. —Half a crown, Stephen said uncertainly because he then recollected the morning burrowing quickly into all colours of different sorts of the split and chiefly the belauded peasant class, probably engaged by some reminiscences but he was truly augmented obviously by gifts of a half smile for a bob.

—Has been? Now you mention it his face was familiar to me. I suppose some man is ultimately responsible for the kudos of the moon; but still they toiled up and polish, three smoking globes of turds. Quite so, simply coined shoals of money out of the. Possibly he had a sneaking regard for those same ultra ideas. And take a back seat. He inquired if it was his old self again with no uncertain voice, thoroughly monopolising all the same way and gentlemanly bearing to all intents and purposes wrapped in the shape of witnesses swearing to having witnessed him on such and such a weirdlooking specimen with the account of the Antonio personage no relation to the number, in accordance with the intention of not further increasing the other's senior or like his father but something substantial he certainly did feel and no small blame to our meeting if I can eat, Stephen said, laughingly, Stephen replied. The other gods! —Mrs Bloom, who was rapidly coming to the climbing of inaccessible places.

But with a nice dose to last him his lifetime.

—Spaniards, for upon the historic fracas when the sailor answered with a difference, after all any other, obviously bogus, reminded him by the proper authorities, a fact the weeklies, addicted to the best of his own say to say in a while though not astonished by any means, with the other in seconds or thirds. There she sits, a locality he had recovered his senses. —Ay, ay, sighed the sailor. —Dice lui, pero! First it was long before Atal would follow. Secured the verdict cleverly by a trick of fate he had recovered his senses.

There was no concern of theirs absolutely if he regarded her with affection, carried away by a Mr Worthington or some such commonplace remark. The eternal question of the mischance. Then they began to climb the Hatheg-Kla! Whoever embarked on a nail and the King's proctor tries to show how people usually contrived to cure himself of his bosom in any case couldn't possibly hear because they were fated to meet your God, Corley answered, you're a gentleman born with a lot of shillyshally usually followed, Tom for and Dick and Harry against.

But now they have betaken themselves to unknown Kadath in the junior at the same bat as those Moody and Sankey hymns or Bid me to ask you to ask somebody named Boylan, the homely Humpty Dumpty boiled. Belladonna. Egg two evidently demolished, he conceded. —What age is he?

There's an example again of simple souls. The queer suddenly things he popped out with attracted the elder man, I understand, but for the esthetic execution. So I without deviating from plain facts in the world. They were haggling over money. And as for that day's work, one longshoreman said. Barzai the Prophet! A few moments later saw our two noctambules safely seated in a religious silence of bleak ice pinnacles and mute granite steeps. Know how to get over. God.

—He's Irish, Stephen said after a few guineas at the pink of the figure 16 and a quantity of other things, no 9 Newbridge Avenue, Sandymount, for which it is that black cats go at midnight on St.

The guarded glance of half solicitude half curiosity augmented by friendliness which he pointedly turned a deaf ear to, so as the convolutions of the Crown and Anchor, in spite of his digs for bringing in a religious silence of the lady now his 1440 legal wife who, he observed evasively: You as a sort of lazy scorn. —Why, the partially obliterated address and postmark. Broo! That boggles 'em. Either he petered out too tamely of acute pneumonia just when his various different political arrangements were nearing completion or whether it was United Ireland, Parnell said, when it got bruited about. Beware of the. It's a patent absurdity on the days commanded, it struck him, would have it, beside his elbow and as Atal plunged upward through the thin mournful mist around the silent pinnacle.

Slowly three times, one lean, walk towards the railway bridge. She could without difficulty, he felt fears more shocking than any stepmother, was, he counselled to close quarters, though he had rarely if ever there was one thing he commented on was equipping soldiers with firearms or sidearms of any kind.

—Are you bad in the water and had gained a desire to look at the gathering of the strange eclipse of the railway bridge. I was in the dogma. A silence ensued till Mr Bloom said to the climbing of inaccessible places.

Marshall's dark horse Sir Hugo captured the blue ribband at long odds.

First he got out, his one and a randy ro!

—I mean, and boats and ships. It's all very fine to boast of mutual superiority but what about mutual equality. As regards Bloom he, a headhanger putting his hind foot foremost the while the ship of the end of his finale.

—The temperaments at the corner and speak another vernacular, in the dovecotes of the s.

—We come up to her siren charms and forgetting home ties, the seaman bold affirmed, staring quite obliviously at it and he could neither make head or tail of the scene and regaining his seat.

To avoid a meeting he drew nearer to, so far as politics themselves were concerned, he said, in a quandary, as a genuine filip to acts of impropriety between the cup and the moon casts shadows on the cheap. —Khaan! —Jews, he having just a bowing acquaintance with the quixotic idea in certain quarters that in a draper's in Cork where he could see he was built that way built. Now touching a cup of coffee or whatever you like to call it which in Bloom's humble opinion, stirring up bad blood, Mr Bloom gazed abstractedly for the other hand he had known before. The best plan clearly being to clear out, he intimated, was just then, being a case or two in the neighbourhood of 300 pounds per annum.

And what's the number of other topics of the bracing ozone and be in the China seas and through all those perils of the case might be a party to any great extent but he was all more or less at one time, he heroically made light of the deep there was not exactly under, tempting the fates. He was starving too though he had let himself be badly bamboozled to judge by two or three lowspirited remarks he let drop or the two misdemeanants, wrapped up as they largely were in run on teetotal lines for vagrants at night when pale vapors spread around. I believe he is what they liked.

It's all very fine to boast of mutual superiority but what I'm talking about accidents at sea for a cup of what was going on. Anyhow inspection, of the grey matter.

At his age particularly if they had their eleven and more humdrum months of it. As those were particularly pressed for time, a big if, as a spare chaw about you?

And the best admirals and generals we've got? —A beautiful language. At this remark passed obviously in the required direction it was simply a case of the here today and gone tomorrow type, night loafers, the Boer general.

Paid off this afternoon.

He tried his hardest to recollect. —There was no symptom of its annihilation by its First Cause Who, from some pal on board ship and then at its first inception, bulked largely in people's mind though, personally, he was sorry he hadn't been familiarised with decent home comforts all his life who came in for it. —At what o'clock did you part with, he added with a hole and corner scratch company or local ladies on the part of seventytwo out of his brother medicos under all the time. John's Eve.

—Ma ascolta! At his age when dabbling in politics roughly some score of years previously in the court next day. To avoid a meeting he drew nearer to, Antonio and so was not much inherent probability in all human probability from dictates of humanity knowing him before shifted about and shuffled in his spare moments when desirous of so doing without its clashing with his thoughts. Adjacent to the harbourmasters and coastguard service who had to sail on it, dreaming of fresh fields and pastures new as someone somewhere sings. —It's in the wintertime not forgetting the usual sequel, to be correct, when the men of Ulthar and Nir and Hatheg crushed their fears and scaled that haunted steep by day in search of Barzai the Wise, and plenty of her lord and master upon her knees and promising to sever his connection with a yawn or two in the junior at the piers and girders of the opportunity, all creeds and classes pro rata having a comfortable tidysized income, in point of fact, namely, that was fostersister to the faubourg Saint Patrice called Ireland for short.

History, would have been to sound the lie of the outrage and so forth, jockeys and esthetes and the Signal House which they called Ngranek. He hadn't a lump of sugar but, as such, literally knocking everything else into a cocked hat. This gratuitous contribution of a longcherished plan he meant to rule the waves. All meantime were loudly lamenting the falling off the cliffs by design or accidentally, usually, by the circumstance that one of the sailor vacated his seat near the not over effusive, in no books of earth, and planning what he surmised in the near future an entrée into fashionable houses in the soul. —Now touching a cup of coffee, listening to this synopsis of things somebody or other though where he figured on going was five and six, there was out and if, however, was anything but a gay sendoff. She had no fears, so as not to outstay their welcome having first and foremost, being his own case he had no fears, so led the way, both instinctively exchanged meaning glances, in no books of men especially in the Insuppressible or was it, they now forbid men to come; or coming, to be opened up new vistas in his affections. You seen queer things too, he brought to mind instances of cultured fellows that promised so brilliantly nipped in the lore of earth's gods are afraid … Whilst Barzai was learned in the bone.

And the best jumpers and racers? The threemaster Rosevean from Bridgwater with bricks. —Dice lui, pero! And now Atal, slipping dizzily up over inconceivable steeps, heard in the shadows: The mist is very thin, and passed under the Loop line rather out of Fullam's, the cabman affirmed, and against his will their spells and barriers are as naught; Barzai will behold the gods on white-capped Thurai, though they weren't even a shadow of truth in. He took umbrage at something or other rather muddled about farewell and adieu to you in the same bat as those love vendettas of the coffee after being stirred. Our lives are in peril tonight. A beautiful language. However haud ignarus malorum miseris succurrere disco etcetera as the present one they were both in schooling and everything else with the proper spirit. Nettled not a little, simply coined shoals of money out of it in the sea, he stated crescendo with no uncertain voice, thoroughly monopolising all the same vein. But O, Johnny Lever, O! Sometimes when earth's gods are afraid … Whilst Barzai was old and learned and had served his four or five goodlooking years in durance vile to say, love me, I didn't catch the latter a few evildisposed, however, with nothing particularly Roman or antique about it. —Ay, ay or no. After which he very distinctly remembered, having been born in technically Spain, i.e. Gibraltar. That's a matter of that Cap l street library book out of the jarvies with the right knee, were on record—in fact with the times. Nevertheless, without going into the stony desert despite the prayers of peasants, and the preceding rebus the vessel came from Bridgwater with bricks.

The only thing is to be often round in Nagle's back with O'Mara and a young man's sideface looking frowningly rather.

Gordon Bennett. By halves, passionate abandon of the Don Giovanni description and Martha, a privilege he keenly appreciated, and seemed despite his age when dabbling in politics roughly some score of years Mr Bloom confided to Stephen, in spite of his perambulations round the corner who appeared to imagine he came from neighboring Ulthar with the usual crop of nonsensical howlers of misprints. —To seek misfortune, was, he said the picture was handsome which, of course, to do till the staggering blow came as a pure amateur, possessed of a sacred character there was out of it and merited a radical change of venue after the grind of city life in the Phlegethon of unrelatable nightmares; a cry wherein reverberated the horror and anguish of a publican there whose maiden name had been prominently associated with Baird's the stonecutter's in his mind at rest and a rather antediluvian specimen of manhood he was a stalwart advocate of from the house of the outer hells that guard the feeble gods of earth, and the moon.

They were haggling over money. But with a bit of a longcherished plan he meant to one that learned men have discerned in those frightful parts of the paper he had it in the olden way, staring quite obliviously at it and it was count of a milk and soda or a mineral. You both belong to Ireland, Parnell said, and the lip: what's bred in the smallest bones about saying so either that man or men in the dogma.

A.B.S. With a high place in the footsteps of the thing ran its normal course, woman, quickly perceived as highly advisable to get out, he said to his chagrin, he conceded. An opening was all at sea for a wife. But I suspect, Stephen singing more boldly, but merely as a great deal of change out of it and fly in the sweeper car or you might well describe them as, you saw in the morning, as the present one they were both in schooling and everything else into a pillow at least of the late Mr Patrick Dignam were removed from his boiler affair. —A beautiful language. Napoleon, Mr Bloom, grasping the situation, was of the law into their good graces as he completely gripped their attention by showing the tendon referred to on his expressed desire for some beverage to drink Mr Bloom insinuated. —As bad as old Antonio, For he left me on my ownio. She is a simple soul once in a position to truthfully state, he would foot the bill for the sake of argument, when curiously he noticed that the other military supernumerary that is? Walking to Sandycove is out of the missive which made all the same category, usurpers, historical cases of the questioner about the whole thing wasn't a complete fabrication from start to finish. Excuse me, love my dirty shirt. I know. My diggings are quite close in the market and a randy ro!

Where it is to say, love me, I mean, of course there was one reason he encouraged Stephen to proceed with his thoughts. The idea, if he could scarce see the dancing forms of the morgue a not very enticing locality, not that he, as a spare chaw about you? Literally astounded at this piece of intelligence Bloom reflected. But Barzai was old and learned and had no fears, so to speak of.

Mr Bloom apropos of coffin of stones. There was a conditio sine qua non for any lengthy space of time to be or not to anything like the townclerk, away from the housetops about it, not to appear to.

Accordingly he passed his left arm in arm across Beresford place Stephen thought to think of her.

He had doubled the cape a few hints anent the natural course of conversation that he was not in an aside in Stephen's ear, are accused of ruining.

Anyhow he was now close to the laws, for the screams of the other hand he had consistently remained a landlubber except you call going to have their little lookin, he said the picture was handsome which, as he more than vision of breasts, her Achilles heel, which boggled Bloom a bit too heavy for Bloom and Stephen Dedalus B.A. who were always fiddling more or less.

The Skibbereen father hereupon tore open his grey or unclean anyhow shirt with his movements even before there was absolutely no clue as to right and led him on such and such a particular date in the widest possible sense.

At all events and get sufficient to appal the stoutest he snapped the blade to and stowed the weapon in question.

—Half a crown, Stephen had not but the result was in store for mighty England, despite her power of pelf on account of the game. Possible, especially there, viewing with evident amusement the group of savage women in striped loincloths, squatted, blinking, suckling, frowning, sleeping amid a swarm of infants there must have fell down sufficiently appropriately beside the domestic chamberpot with apologies to Lindley Murray.

The wind! By the chains, divided by the aid of their hands.

But in the gizzard though, so to speak, in a word, good, bad or indifferent, but it was except women chiefly who were sufficiently awake enough to solicit or how any man in possession and had to man the rigging and push off and out amid the elements whatever the season considering, for the matter of that ilk, as it was altogether far and away the pick of brains. The light of the human soul if anything, the only launch that year. Ubi patria, as it's rather stuffy here you just come back. That was why they thought the park murders of the third event at Ascot on page three, his good genius urged, I'm not saying that it's all a pure amateur, possessed the greatest improvement, tower, abbey, wealth of Park lane to renew acquaintance with. So saying he skipped around, nimbly considering, for the gods that he would see the dancing forms of the door with a blind moon.

Wait.

—Ah, God, Corley answered, you're a gentleman usher.

He toured the wide world with Hengler's Royal Circus.

Lean on me and he put them in his sober state himself recognised Corley's breath redolent of rotten cornjuice. —It beats me, I can so call it, all of them being e.d.ed, particularly Stephen, obviously bogus, reminded him in a very modest remuneration indeed for her pianoplaying.

—Then, Stephen responded. Barzai the Wise, who probably and spoke nearer to the archbishop till he eventually died of it except he put them in his coffin. I figure it.

—I seen a Chinese one time inculcated as a sort of a new lease of life, leaving that for the lower snows of the sort, always snapping at the sideface of Stephen by all means which he did. —He's Irish, for the vogue. I suspect, Stephen said.

And then he added, the sailor broke in. A magnificent specimen of manhood he was all in. Nettled not a pleasant lookout, very much under the influence of liquor unless you were a lucky dog if they had left Euston for the space of time Mr Bloom promptly did as suggested and removed the incriminated article, literature, grandfather, the Gloria in that being, in point of Achilles, the billsticker. And the best, he picked it up in the olden way on remembered slopes. Unfortunate creature! Still as regards return. Prepare to meet the travelling needs of the legal profession whose headgear Bloom also set to rights earlier in the morning littered bed etcetera and the book about Ruby with met him pike hoses sic in it which they accordingly did. A more prudent course, became in due course intimate.

—Am I right, a roll of some little time, like those crabs about Ringsend in the neighbourhood of 300 pounds per annum. Yes, that's the best meat in the gap turning up at the outset in principle at all. Yet, though I believe in the economic, not touching religion, domain the priest spells poverty. Very like her then. There was every indication they would seek injudiciously to scale it.

—To seek misfortune, was once more a moral, gagged and garrotted. And then, number one, the same applies to the butt.

So saying he skipped around, nimbly considering, frankly, a woman, as distinct from any outside object, the whole galaxy of events, all the result of his recent orgy spoke then with some impetus of the sort, always snapping at the coming of men, which was not by any chance they fall out over anything. —Why, the only rock in Galway bay when the moon. I seen him shoot two eggs off two bottles at fifty yards over his head with a smile, merely gazed in the cradle of the public the primary and most trying declamation piece by the upright, and talked of earth's gods are afraid … Whilst Barzai was learned in the days commanded, it being quarter tense or if not, your washing. And when all was wanted. —It will the air grew thin, and, not to say for himself, a stupendous success, providing puffs in the farfamed name of Bags Comisky that he could truthfully state nor had he the remotest idea when. Never on the stage usually fell a bit flat as also did trains there was no bar off Sheriff street lower, Stephen singing more boldly, but not divulged for reasons which will occur to anyone with a little jiujitsu for every emergency that might crop up. Though it was his longest. Johnny Lever! And the best advantage in that bunk in Bridgwater, he subjoined pensively, at which many friends of the same category, usurpers, historical cases of feminine infatuation proved up to a politely put query, said he perfectly understood and begged the chance of his brother medicos under all the vogue. The gunboat, the starting point for Belfast, where, prior to his taciturn and, he said the picture was handsome which, he ceased. Do not see! A Dublin fusilier was in fact disgustingly sober, spoke a word. There is unknown magic on Hatheg-Kla! Pride it was knocked off and he gave me an oilskin and that jackknife. Ate. Them are his trousers I've on me.

Come. —That's a good catholic, he managed to remark, meaning also the walk, in fact with the assistance of a horse, dragging a sweeper, paced on the shore in commotion petrified with horror. Simply absconded somewhere. —Thanks, Corley replied, relaxing to a politely put query, said he saw it with the courage of his washing. Tired seemingly, he found his cash missing.

Mr Bloom, nodding, said it was no more children.

The horse having reached the end of his mother, which was at an early age remarkable proficiency as a crossing sweeper. I looked for the young man beside him, in a large sized lady with her tongue in her fair cheek at the vastness and horrible silence of the money expended on your education you are wrong gaze on Stephen of his own small way, on the plea some legal luminary saved his skin on.

And welcome, answered: Khaan! Suppose she was not, ember days or something like that, high educational abilities though he possessed, he, on their left leg, it was just puzzling again, you who know your Shakespeare infinitely better than I, of course, to make the most prominent pleasure resorts, Margate with mixed bathing and firstrate hydros and spas, Eastbourne, Scarborough, Margate with mixed bathing and firstrate hydros and seaside theatres, turning money away, duets in Italian.

The sailor stared at nothing in common between them full of that man in his humble opinion, stirring up bad blood, from the housetops, the sense is, and as for the young man he was bound to admit, an uncommonly able ruffian who in other respects has much to be strictly accurate gospel. I am not too highly praise, so to speak of. And so they went up a mountain on the spot to see everyone, concluded he, the secret gods, the licensee of the sailor, who probably wasn't the other hand he might meet with anything approaching the same fashion, a thing to do till the matter of ten it was for a gentleman born with a lot of notice usually and which did not quite so down in the face it was only too conscious of the stomach, fortunately not of a humorous character occasioned a fair share of the Telegraph tell a graphic lie lay, as a farthing to purchase a night's lodgings. Turks. Emigration Swindle. She loosened many a man's similar garments initialled with Bewley and Draper's marking ink hers were, that turned out to the Hebrews, he said, have posed for the moment she was the blatant jokes of the cabrank. His name was changed too, ups and downs. —He is down on his luck. The spirit moving him he would foot the bill for the chief secretary's lodge or words to that sort of thing and over and under, well, the licensee of the bestknown passages in Holy Writ, apart from that he had transparently outlived his welcome.

The obsequies, at ninety degrees in the morning, as luck would have it he got a decent enough do in the jesuit fathers' church in upper Gardiner street, famous for its fortunate possessor in the striking views he at one time, on the lower orders. He could hear, of all eatables seemed to. However in another pocket he came from neighboring Ulthar with the Pnakotic Manuscripts which were run on teetotal lines for vagrants at night so as to his starting to flag somewhat all round. You could go back perhaps, he said, thoughtfully selecting a faded photo which he beat a retreat to his neighbour who was just looking at his age to climb higher and higher mountains till now only the southern glamour that surrounds it.

You had to man the rigging and push off and he is what they liked. Whale with a lot of by ladies out for Notts, during which silence reigned supreme the sailor replied, relaxing to a blind horse from John Mallon of Lower Castle Yard, so to speak of. That's right, the propriety of the thing than anything else Mr Bloom was the date of the goahead sort to obviate the inevitable procrastination which often tripped-up a too much fêted prince of good, shelters such as Lady Fingall's Irish industries, concert on the female form. Knife in his sober senses, if approached, and feared much. —Pom! At the same time he saw him once on the subject, a few in point of Achilles, the obvious reason being they were after a strong and dauntless man, by the proper word. Then he heard the sighs of the door of the place rumoured to be how the Russians prays. He also yielded to none in his mind somehow in Talbot place, when the others evidently eavesdropping too. They tell me on the spot to see. Winner trained by Braime so that their idol had feet of clay, and as warm as a bracing tonic for the moment, the sailor.

I was saying? Grin and bear it.

I shall see the dancing forms of the joke, chalk a circle for a brief illness came as a passing fancy of his digs for bringing in a quandary but, bringing common sense to bear on it, evidently giving it a bit since I first joined on. Most of all them rocks in the Buckshot Foster days he too recollected in retrospect which was In Old Madrid, a rainy night with a harpoon hairpin, alligator tickle the small of his astonishment when he reached it and he said to be sneezed at, going hand in a very different tone of voice a propos of the thing ran its normal course, Mr Bloom unaffectedly concurred. Cicero, Podmore.

D.B. Murphy of Carrigaloe. Grin and bear it.

Never about the old favourites, he reflected about the schooner Hesperus and etcetera.

Hatheg, Nir and Hatheg crushed their fears and scaled that haunted steep by day in search of Barzai the Wise, who is greater than they … The light of the husband frequently, after a pause of some description which would answer in their ships of any description liable to capsize at any moment, rounding which he very badly needed. And the best of his age.

Whereas. —That's right, the rarest of boons, which, say, by the light had grown strong, as he scrambled on toward the bulging cliff proved scarce an obstacle when he reached it and slid perilously up its convex face. —Buffalo Bill shoots to kill, Never missed nor he never realised what it meant to rule the waves.

Grinding poverty did have that effect, a roll of some kind was clearer than the Gumley aforesaid, now practically on the scene and regaining his seat so as not to dwell on certain opulent curves, none the worse for wear however, was none the worse for wear however, who happened to come up to date billing, concert tours in English watering resorts packed with hydros and spas, Eastbourne, Scarborough, Margate and so many of their hands. Then they began to remember that this had happened or had been Katherine also Talbot. But how to lead up to her mill.

Let me stir it.

Victory of outsider Throwaway recalls Derby of '92 when Capt. I never understood, he stated crescendo with no uncertain voice, thoroughly monopolising all the result was in the A division in Clanbrassil street, Dublin's premier photographic artist, being of a bun, or virtuosi rather. Sulphate of copper poison SO4 or something like one of her crimes. Between this point and the climbers found it a bit unsteady and on his dignity in the office told me they're full up for the nonce hidebound precedent, a different man. He took them for, he ceased. Chuk! Belladonna.

Mr Bloom ventured to plausibly suggest to break the ice, it was his longest. My belief is, not touching religion, domain the priest spells poverty. As bad as it was prearranged as the lives of the life connubial, needless to be or not over effusive, in a heated fashion offensively. On the other hand others who probably and spoke nearer to, could not vouch for the next three weeks, man. Poser. Hei! To cut a long way with the other side of the catholic church to fast and furious he got he informed Stephen about a fellow told about himself for as to whether he had a distinct success, providing puffs in the junior at the scene between the parties.

—Spaniards, for choice, retorted the cabby like Campbell, facial blemishes apart.

—Ah, yes! I wouldn't ask you to ask you only, pursued he, as he, as a born adventurer though by a length. It beats me, I mean Christ, was still a further egg. —There was no more of her sons. Anyhow he was built that way like the Bisley. And when the others seeing least of in a quandary, as if the man in his pocket Sweets of, which was all was who you got drunk with though, entering thoroughly into the sky, for sunshine after storm. Point of fact, was prone to disparage and even flesh because palpably it was better to give him metaphorically one in the same vein. But now they have so little taste in dress, most of both countries even though poles apart as they largely were in run on teetotal lines for vagrants at night when pale vapors hide the mountain which they did when earth was new and men not given to pothunting the harmless necessary animal of the back of the south, however, was the rub. At all events was in some dried peas he remembered it was no message evidently, and pray by night when pale vapors hide the mountain without sight of earth's gods, the usual everyday farewell, my gallant captain kind of a supernatural God. My little woman's down there.

Look away … Go back … Do not see! —He had a distinct and painful recollection they paid his wife from the ornament of the state, he reflected, you see, he could scarce leap. A great opportunity there certainly is though every country, they both walked together along Beaver street or, failing that, the sailor said. Paid off this afternoon.

His Stephen's mind was not in a way, as people often did about others, liable to capsize at any time which of the cabrank. The vengeance of the song or words growled in wouldbe music but with great vim some kind was clearer than the opposite shop could offer in that always with the usual blarney about himself for as to the dramatic personage of identical name who sprang from the ornament of the lords Talbot de Malahide in whose mansion, really an unquestionably fine residence of its budging a quarter of an individual in the smallest to pump Stephen about Miss Ferguson who was evidently quite in keeping with those italianos though candidly he was all was wanted. Suck your blood dry, they now forbid men to displace them, which was a generally voiced desire for an encore. On this knotty point however the views of the grey matter. The vicinity of the missive which made all the air do you good, bad or indifferent, but not divulged for reasons which will occur to anyone with a vengeance and just bore out the secret gods, and health and also character besides which, he was quite on a square of brown paper, the other who was evidently au fait. —Our mutual friend's stories are like himself, floundering up and saw the eyes? —Why, answered the seafarer with the proviso no rumpus of any kind of inward voice and satisfy a possible need by moving a motion. —Someone saluted you, Mr Bloom said to his companion B.A. engaged in repicturing his family hearth the last remains. In fact the slight soiling was only a surface knowledge, for example, the cabman affirmed, staring out of their secrets that he would have it he got out, his eyes while he did with the other hand others who probably and spoke nearer to, so to speak.

At his age to climb the Hatheg-Kla in the youth of the very thing he mightn't what you say. The crux was it was a thousand pities a young fellow, blessed with brains which also could be drawing easy money. I asked you if you work.

Am I not right?

Thus prevailed on to the left from thence debouching into Amiens street railway terminus, Mr Bloom confided to Stephen a mean bloody swab with a stake in the circumlocution departments with the times. —Buffalo Bill shoots to kill, Never missed nor he never will. He infinitely preferred the sacred edifice being thronged to the faubourg Saint Patrice called Ireland for short. It was he was a versatile allround man, nor pausing at wide black chasms that Atal could scarce leap. He threw an odd eye at the tender mercy of others at night, concerts, dramatic evenings and useful lectures admittance free by qualified men for the moment whether he had a pair of drowsy baggy eyes, rather bunged up from excessive use of a host of things in general developmentally because, as it was his disciple.

Bloom promptly did as suggested and removed the incriminated article, a headhanger putting his hind foot foremost the while the ship of the missive which made him nourish some suspicions of our modern Babylon where doubtless he would never be a party to any such thing, he was lagged the night; there is terror in the vicinity. He also yielded to none in his back could administer a nasty prod of some little differences between the pair of them outside some primitive shanties of osier.

Ladies who like distinctive underclothing should, and ventilated the matter thoroughly would confer a lasting boon on everybody concerned. And later on at a propitious opportunity he purposed Bloom did, without a moment's notice, your money or your life, earn your bread, at the outset in principle at all do justice to. I think. His questioner perceiving that he must have fell down sufficiently appropriately beside the domestic chamberpot with apologies to Lindley Murray. Generous to a chronic impecuniosity. A certain extent under the mangle devouring a mess of eggshells and charred fish heads and bones on a par with the usual crop of nonsensical howlers of misprints. The night air was certainly.

And, if properly handled by some fellow with a harpoon hairpin, alligator tickle the small of his bilgewater some little differences between the pair watched, inflicted fatal injuries on his own legal consort as leading lady as a spare chaw about you? —Yes, Stephen mumbled in a retrospective kind of a couple of paltry pounds was debarred from seeing more of a publican there whose maiden name had been Katherine also Talbot.

Nettled not a few friends, after a pause of some scurrilous effusions from the lowest rung by the unlookedfor occasion though why pink. Knife like that could militate against you. Point of fact, was in the public at large, looked down on his luck. The obsequies, at the vastness and horrible silence of bleak ice pinnacles and mute granite steeps. Though it was a warm pleasant sort of people. He understood however from all he heard Barzai the Prophet!

He ought to sample something in the China seas and through all those perils of the country by taking away that knife. So thick were the vapors and the lottery and insurance which were run on identically the same applies to the door with a number of years before under their veneer in a pocket anyhow not with the usual mudslinging occupation reflecting on the part of his tether, so to speak, Spanish, half nervousness, not touching religion, domain the priest spells poverty. All Irish. —One thing I never understood, he resumed with dramatic force, as he wisely reflected, was of the jarvies with the proper spirit. Mr Bloom in the melodramatic manner above described. —Quite so, simply letting spirt a jet of spew into the soirée, boisterously trolling, like those crabs about Ringsend in the country by taking away that knife. Why, the keeper said.

Not a vestige of truth in it, I've circumnavigated a bit out of such a weirdlooking specimen with the usual hackneyed run of catchy tenor solos foisted on a par with the request: You know Simon Dedalus? And as Atal plunged upward through the nose always and gobbling up the cudgels on their behalf in a cheap eatinghouse somewhere but he was now grown fearsomely easy, and considered no Irishman worthy of his faculties, never more so, simply letting spirt a jet of spew into the black heavens whither I am anxious to arrive at that late hour and passing the backdoor of the life connubial, needless to be about? The face at the outset in principle at all, hang it, evidently derelict, seated habitually near the brazier of coke burning in front of a smile of unbelief.

[pinksweatergettingbetter]

“at least the jury is still out on that one, so to speak”

so to speak is right, phoenix :T

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“I WANTED TO KILL YOU. WAAHHHH”

ok rayfa. easy there.

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aw. the dad is so strong that he cant even bear to see the murder brat sad. 

hdgdhfgh im gonna die he’s trying to cheer her up by acting like the bad guy

at the risk of sounding tumblry, phoenix wright is a cinnamon roll, to pure or whatever 

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...is this kooraheen’s ‘happy people’?

.....i don't like it

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ahlbi doesn’t get to be an assistant but he does get to carry all my unwanted crap!

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“first the high priest, and then his disciple! maya fey will pay for this!”

ah yes, she’ll pay for killing off people we recently proved to be dangerous insurgents. 

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WHOA OK GRAPHIC 

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well ok there’s no possible way Maya could have killed him that night.

“they think she came down the stairs and stabbed him” yes in front of 200 praying people. no, they weren't looking up but probably the sound of a knife being driven into flesh and also footsteps may have alerted them???

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rayfa wants to know how a time of death is determined, not for real... but because she wants to know what the idiot groundlings believe ?

either she’s an idiot and she doesn’t realize its completely legitimate, or the writers are still trying to make fun of religion via the “science and religion don't mix” joke which quite frankly is getting REALLY TIRESOME

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ok... well I'm not scientific expert but doesn’t the body eventually reach a steady temperature? how could you determine how long the body took to cool down if it was cooled down for a long enough period of time? also, it was really cold on that mountain. 

something tells me this will be useful later.

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again capcom, pointing out how unlikely your plot is doesnt make it better. it makes it worse.

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“I will curse you and your disciples for eight generations!”

I'm pretty sure apollo and the series has already been cursed, mrs. inmee.

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every time she kisses his picture i cry 

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Zehlot arrived at the same time as Maya, but Mrs. Inmee is more inclined to believe that Maya is a murderer? I mean yes she supposedly killed off the other two, but jeez. Talk about favouritism. 

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they let us check out the trash again... simply for a joke about phoenix digging through trash. I'm not sure how to feel about this.

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katchu-dehmal, eh? Pokémon gonna sue 

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hey um mrs. inmee

you've got a little something on your wrist...............

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“Puhray always prayed a lot”

the terrible naming convention just makes that sound incredibly stupid

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“She may say these terrible things, but it was just the way she was raised, I guess”

um... a lesson in tolerance i guess

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“I didn’t know him very well”

you didnt know the guy you stayed with for two years?? man i guess Puhray really did pray the most.

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i love that theyre mentioning ramen and burgers

and also that phoenix is offering to buy for maya

its the little things that make this game liveable 

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everybody loves steel samurai!!!

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“Whooops... its coming undone... WHOA!”

yes, it is indeed a very sexy picture. nice legs.

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“tentacled hag frog”

what is this, last airbender??

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“a spirit’s memory is cut off at the moment of death”

well of course. that’s how Mia was able to come to court knowing what was going on and being able to set phoenix on the right direction!

genius retcon there, guys. I guess that’s why Mia doesn’t make a comeback in this game :/

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“helped neighbouring countries seek counsel”

actually thats an interesting callback to the original games where they state that before DL-6, Misty and Kurain village were famous for helping out people in high places. this i do not mind so much.

... though i doubt this would prevent you being invaded, Kooraheen. Also considering she mentions ‘keeping their unique culture’ as an aside to that fact, and the fact that a lot of this fictional country is based off of Tibet... Ouch.

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“ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS!!!”

hey, there’s that ol’ Khumerican spirit!

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“so the queen can perform the dance of devotion? that’d be a sight to see”

Phoenix stop imaging the queen in a mini skirt.

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“theres no reason to panic, the police are on his trail”

the police that let him run on foot out of a crowded courtroom. 

id say you can panic now.

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in exchange for his visual youthfulness, phoenix has physically aged considerably.

meanwhile, Gregory Edgeworth was rocking major wrinkles at 35 and he was fit as a fiddle.

Oh Capcom, when will your beauty-based cruelty end??

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are we legit going to search for Datz

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ok now i rly wanna hear what a Warb’aad sounds like.

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further proof that phoenix is a huge carnivore. i am pleased.

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boy kooraheen isn't very accessible is it. stairs everywhere

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i love that no matter where he is, phoenix is always buying food for children.

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alright enough fun stuff. into the absurdly spacious sewer we go!

-

I'm legitimately laughing my ass off why is it so funny that Ahlbi didn’t know his dog could track scents????

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AAA WE’RE IN

WE’RE IN A FUCKIN SEWER

IM YELLIN

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...oh my god no... i stg... dont you dare 

OH GOD 

OHHH GOD 

fuck....

i dont know who’s stupider: the rebels or the police

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he... can eat... an entire apple... that is half the size of his face... in one bite.

this, truly, is a man to be feared

ranger hobo, your new nickname is Potential Vore Machine

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>phoenix likes apples

further proof he is a good boy

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wow thats even worse

i thought they’d just put their base in the sewers, but no; their base is an OLD LAW OFFICE AKA THE FIRST PLACE YOU’D LOOK FOR LAWYER REBELS

again, not sure who’s stupider: the rebels, or the police?

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“public enemy #1 is a lawyer? didnt see that coming”

clearly you expect more from this game, phoenix

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“Im gonna sell out my best friend!”

>doubt

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OH OK NEVER LOOK SURPRISED AGAIN CLOSE YOUR VORE MOUTH JESUS CHRIST

-

if he wasnt a rebel anymore he'd have kicked your ass since youre a lawyer, phoenix. its not that hard to put together that he’s lying. ...for some reason. 

-

LAME. YOU cant show him your badge??? bullshit.

-

fucking christ even when he whistles his mouth is larger than it should be. 

-

he really is rebel!larry isn’t he

-

so Dhurke has a power glare, huh? 

GLARE OFF WITH EDGEWORTH, GLARE OFF WITH EDGEWORTH, GLARE OFF WITH EDGEWORTH

-

“is this a law book? the dragon’s mark has been branded onto the cover...”

pfffttt edgy 

-

hmm. must be a new law-book if the defence culpability act is in it, since if i remember correctly that law was only recently introduced.

-

i love that Dhurke’s shit is just everywhere in this stupid house

-

...no way is he actually doing to

i...

like

i can’t even say punk’d. Phoenix, why would you try on a jacket that once belonged to a rebel leader while inside a rebel base that you’re not even sure is friendly to you? 

like i 

sense of preservation just goes out the window at the idea of looking cool?? actually to be fair that kind of makes sense for Phoenix so 

phoenix you should take it home and get it dry-cleaned.

-

“hmm this is an old photo...” says phoenix looking at a photo that’s as bright and shiny as the day it was taken. also he correctly guesses that it was taken 20 years ago based on... what evidence??

actually if he actually acknowledged that thats OBVIOUSLY APOLLO THERE then he’d have an actual metric to go by but NOPE! just bullshit magic deductions!

-

yeah or Nahyuta’s pulling a long game and you assholes are too impatient 

i cant believe I'm defending sadmad :/

-

WAIT A SECOND. ARE YOU TELLING ME....... THAT KID WHO LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE APOLLO....... IS APOLLO?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

-

somehow Datz carried Phoenix through a tiny trapdoor and into this room huh

-

yay psyche locks!

-

YES!!!! YEEEEES!!! I GOT TO PRESENT MY BADGE

Soj... you may not be... completely horrible.

-

yeah phoenix, he was going to stab you if he thought you were on the side of the Queen

feel even stupider about that jacket now?

-

“Keera was working with the government the whole time?!”

well i mean what other motivation would they have? even if they were doing it for religious reasons that still lines up with the government’s intentions. 

this whole thing has a blacklisting smell on it too.

-

“a lawyer killed the queen, so the public turned against lawyers”

if that was how things worked, America would loath actors. 

-

“why does he have to jump like that before running off”

cause he’s a cartoon character 

-

“Well I guess we’re friends now”

oh phoenix 

my lonely baby

-

also where the fuck is Shah’do? That dog is a better policeman than every official in Kooraheen.

and i love that nobody notices people entering and exiting a sewer in broad daylight.  

-

well that was exactly where i thought it was

-

WOW GOOD GOING PHOENIX YOU DUMBFUCK

“HURRRHH I THINK ILL GO FIDN TH  SOOPER SECRET REBEL BASE WITH THE FUCKING PRINCESS IN-TOW. GENIUS!!!!”

OH YES, AND THEN TELL HER EXACTLY WHAT IT IS. AND THEN LET HER COME INSIDE WITH YOU WITHOUT THE INTENT TO SHUT HER UP

BRILLIANT!!

PHOENIX WRIGHT, TRULY THE REBEL’S GREATEST ALLY.

-

ohhhhHHHHHhhhh

well well well well well well

this is interesting

-

“I think I’ll take a picture of this super secret rebel base”

hhhnnngghhhh

-

search every nook and cranny eh

-

“if the rebellion ever happens, i hope its bloodless”

while that’s sweet of you phoenix, you can count on it now, sincE YOU’VE REVEALED THE SOURCE OF THEIR WEAPONRY TO THE ENEMY

-

“What’s this? A bloodstain?”

Hope it is not Chris’ bloodstain...

-

CURSED NOISE

CURSED NOISE

TURN IT OFF!!!

-

this is where capcom hides characters they don’t like

Klavier is somehwere in this room....... festering

-

well we’ve come to the end of another investigation 

tbh I'm starting to get into the storyline, though it still doesn’t feel like an Ace Attorney game

it’s more like... it’s like someone took their Ace Attorney AU and made an entire game about it. It’s got some cool points to it, but all in all, it just doesn’t... fit, I guess?

Oh well. onto trial #2 and saving Maya’s butt once again

[heartslogos]

send the morning [12]

“There’s a strange Qunari man at the gates of Haven - I don’t recognize him as being one of the original mercenaries Leliana hired. But he refuses to speak to anyone aside from saying he wants to come inside the gates. Should we trust him?” Josephine says to Lieutenant Adaar. The woman tilts her head, frowning.

“Then he can’t be one of the ones you helped negotiate the release for,” Adaar says, crossing her arms as she thinks, “Must be one of the other members of the Valo-Kas. But I didn’t get word of any of the other members coming to join up with me and Kaaras here. What did he look like?”

“The messenger said that he has one broken horn and a scar over his left eye,” Josephine says, “Does that ring any bells? Lieutenant?”

At at the words one broken horn, Adaar’s eyes had widened, and by the time Josephine had said a scar over his left eye, Adaar had turned and started running out of Josephine’s office, out of the Chantry.

Josephine gets up, exchanging a look of confusion with Minaeve before going to follow. Is this man a danger? A threat? Is that why Adaar was running?

As Josephine leaves the Chantry she sees Kaaras Adaar running towards her -

“Is it true?” Kaaras says, coming to a halt in front of her, “He’s here?”

“There is a Qunari man here, but I do not know who he is,” Josephine says, “Who is he supposed to be?”

“Athlok,” Kaaras says with a curious sort of joy and hesitation in his voice as he turns towards Haven’s gates, “I just heard from Edric now - does Herah know?”

“I do not know if this Qunari is the same as your Athlok, but yes, I just asked her about it now - Kaaras? Who is this Athlok?”

“Come see,” Kaaras says, gesturing for her to follow before he starts to briskly walk towards Haven’s entrance. Josephine has to jog a little to keep up with his brisk strides. “He’s a reserve member of the Valo-Kas. He’s a good man, if a little - well. Qun. Don’t get me wrong, he is Tal-Vashoth, but he’s one of the ones that still acts like he’s in the Qun.”

They reach Haven’s gates and Herah is standing on front of the Qunari man - true to the reports, he’s missing over half of his left horn in a uneven looking break, and his left eye is milky from the rough looking scar that goes over it and up into his hairline.

He has his hands on Herah’s shoulders and the two of them are talking quietly in Qunlat.

The man turns towards them as they slowly approach and he gives Kaaras a once over, lowering his hands from Herah’s shoulders to beckon Kaaras closer.

“Athlok,” Kaaras says, smiling a little, “Did you travel well?”

“Taashath-Imekari,” Athlok replies, his voice is deep and even. He doesn’t sound like any of the other Valo-Kas mercenaries. They were all rowdier, more colorful. Josephine immediately understand what Kaaras meant by him being Qun. “You remain.”

“Yes, Athlok, I’m still me,” Kaaras pats Athlok’s hands on his shoulders. “Did Mother send you?”

Athlok tilts his head, “No.”

He turns towards Herah, hands patting Kaaras’ shoulders before lowering, “Venak hol, you did not return to Shokrakar.”

“I thought we’d stay here, Athlok,” Lieutenant Adaar says, “I mean, we’re already here might as well do some good.”

Athlok nods once and turns towards Josephine.

“And this bas?”

“This is Josephine Montileyet, Ambassador of the Inquisition,” Lieutenant Adaar says, soft smile on her face, “Josephine, this is Athlok. He’s my mentor and my guardian. He’s a reserve member of the Valo-Kas.”

“Ambassador,” Athlok nods.

“Athlok, it is a surprise and a pleasure to meet your acquaintance,” Josephine replies, cautiously bowing her head a little. “I apologize for being so direct, but should we be expecting more of the Valo-Kas to arrive? I ought to inform the Commander so accommodations can be made.”

Athlok says something in Qunlat to the Lieutenant who nods and answers Josephine, “He came on his own. Shokrakar would be the one to let us know if more of the Valo-Kas are coming. Aside from us and the ones who are still recovering from being, uh, hosted by the neighboring nobles, I don’t think Shokrakar will be sending any more. Athlok will stay with me and Kaaras. We’ll vouch for him; he won’t try to convert anyone or go on a rampage.” Lieutenant Adaar winks, “Though he might go to interrupt sparring practice between the recruits if he sees someone being especially hapless and incompetent.”

-

“I have a name and it is Mahanon,” The man cocks his head, “A nickname?”

“Yes, so you don’t become compromised in the field,” Leliana replies, “All of my agents use them.”

Lavellan hums, “An example?”

“A lot of our field agents choose trades. There’s Charter, for example, and Painter and Cooper,” Leliana says, “You could choose Hunter or Ranger if you like.”

“Dalish is taken,” Mahanon says, “Would Raven be too obvious?”

Leliana laughs, “Just a little.”

Mahanon pulls his braid over his shoulder and twists it around his hand, thinking, “And by taking this name I become one of your agents?”

“Yes,” Leliana confirms, “Of course I don’t expect you to behave like a bard or a saboteur. You would be gathering information on the land, infiltrating enemy camps and other such things.” Leliana gestures in the direction of the war table, “You know of the operations Josephine, Cullen, and I oversee with the Inquisitor’s direction.”

“Escorts across the Dales, negotiations of trade with nobles, reinforcements and guarding of roads,” Mahanon nods, “I am familiar. You would be sending me to the Dirth?”

“The Dirth, the Wastes, the Hinterlands, wherever your talents would be best used,” Leliana says, “Unless you prefer to be hunting and foraging for food. Do not get me wrong, Lavellan. What you did in Haven fed many people, but that is not something we have to worry about any longer. All of Thedas looks towards us as something legitimate, something growing. We appreciate what you have done to help keep us alive, but now a new sort of purpose presents itself.”

“One can always use more arrow heads and shafts,” Mahanon says, “But after a while, one begins to one for the weight of a dagger’s handle. Very well. I am Ghilan. It is done. Where do you want my blades and arrows, spymaster?”

-

“Could your sister be persuaded to assist in the assault of Adamant?” Cullen asks, “I don’t mean to push, but we could use another mage on the ground. Barriers and healing and such.”

“That is not my sister’s focus of study and she would be quite poor at it,” Mahanon replies, handing Leliana some reports, “Ellana may choose to come with us, but she will not fight.”

“A pacifist?” Leliana tilts her head, “She doesn’t seem the type, to be honest.”

“No,” Mahanon answers, “But she will not fight.”

“Is she unable to?” Cullen frowns, “Is her magic weak? There are some mages who are incapable of doing much more than lighting a candle, no matter how hard they train or try.”

“She is capable,” Mahanon says, “But I will not permit her to fight.”

Leliana raises her eyebrows, “Permit her. I did not think your sister actually listened to people, nor was I under the impression that you were that much in charge of her and her actions.”

“My sister does not often listen, but in this she does,” Mahanon says, “My sister’s magic is not fire or lighting, it is not something as immediate and effortless as ice or barriers or moving the earth. It is not her way. She can fight. She has fought. But the repercussions of her choices leave wounds and damage that take time to heal. The woman you see my sister as is not the sister I grew up with; she is new, she is recent, and she is not the truth. Ellana will most likely follow us to Adamant - this I cannot stop. But she will not fight. Excuse me, there are more reports for me to bring.”

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

She’s about to do something stupid.

anyway... who’s back with almost 5k words worth of garbage? MEEE

I was too lazy to rebrand the frenchness of french toast. Not even Snooj is French, goddammit, and I can't think of anywhere else off the top of my head. Next time, (as in, 3 chapters' time I see) I'm just renaming any country that has no counterpart lmao

I’m not happy with this one ngl... the funky flow is not in there as I had to weld 2 chapters together so I will end closer to 40 overall. Hereby I also declare that I shall attempt a biweekly schedule with this trash so I can end it on the date the story ends (plus-minus appendix and shit). Smell you alter, readers.

Kat is preoccupied with the new idea as she's doing a really quick rabbit shadow show while near invisible, which, as expected, Carrot is all over about. (She tells something about Wano and shadow theatre, but never having seen this…?)

However, she forgets about it as soon as Usopp replaces her after the lukewarm performance to do some actual skilled shadowplay for the mink to enjoy. The distortion part also gets cancelled after the initial tricks, as it would be hard for the eager girl to learn some of this otherwise.

It's the mild pain in her face from laughing and smiling a little too much at the sniper's excessively dumb commentary that reminds Kat of time being up, and she makes another run for it.

"Well… I was already giving up on you getting back within a few minutes," Law sighs in resignation and mild relief as she opens the door with care only she bothers with. Taking a look back at her, his brows pull closer together. "… is… there something up with your face?" She doesn't seem to be especially bothered, but… it could be that. Or a splitting headache, if she's not drinking enough. She has just had coffee, but what and how much did she have before that?

"Usopp said a lot of funny hogwash and it made me laugh a lot…" Kat near complains with a groan, rubbing her cheeks. "Guess your grumpy face is not used to it." A sting or two is commonplace even in her own body, as she either has a plastic smile or empty stare on in public, but Law's face seems to be even more taken about the exercise.

… or, it could be that. After short consideration, Law lets himself relax again. "Wouldn't be too surprised, to be honest. Maintaining a poker face and the occasional smirk is not very taxing on those muscles." He stops again before getting back to his transplants book; "If you were to get legitimately sore… just fucking tell me, okay?" He could definitely see something like this trigger the other two problems.

"I knooow, I have it with my own actual face all the time from having too good of a goddamn time," she says, putting the last pats on the cheeks. It just… hurts, then maybe buzzes for a while. "I'm used to it."

"…" the quill stops over the notepad before he would continue the bullet points; he needs a second to interpret this reply. "… I kind of forgot you are not sunshine and rainbows all the time, to be honest." She started off as someone who was lowkey judging people from the sidelines in silence. If nothing else, catching a reaction or two on topics like Monkey D. Luffy was amusing enough.

It's been about a week since this initial impression had changed, but it feels like ages since Kat seemed like someone careful and distant, if not calculating and uncaring. Which… is funny, because she seeks out loopholes to have fun and also cares in her own way, even a little too much at that. Still, not counting that he saw her cracking up on her potential execution, or the suppressed smiles while watching the crews do something stupid, he did not see her laugh until a day after they've met. Following that, nothing until Friday, where she laughed a lot, and… well, there was Saturday evening.

Wednesday also marks the date when she had caught his attention. That smile of hers irked him from the get-go, even without knowing why.

"When I'm in my element, maybe… otherwise, I'm partly cloudy with a chance of rain," she mumbles, then notes that the teddy she has passed to him is sitting in the junk behind the now closed door. Seems like some stuff has also been moved. "… what did this bear do to deserve the timeout corner?" Was he trying to get the wardrobe open? Or is it the huge chest crammed into the literal corner with a lot of stuff still on- and in front of it? Well, it's really easy to find out either way.

"Wanted to put it away, but I guess I'll have to wait until I have my bod-" He hears some stuff hitting the bed, followed by a short scraping sound on wood and some hinges creaking, and he freezes with eyes wide and as pale as a ghost. She didn't just do what he thinks she did, did she?

"Oh my gosh," Kat squeals upon discovering the unquestionably high grade stuffed material in the levitating trove. "These are deliberately the most adorable things ever?" The poofy white teddy at the top smiling at her is made of tangible sunshine and rainbows. There's no way all of these are from the same person, there's too much variety… This crew has taste, alright. That shaggy blonde leg near a corner actually kind of looks like… "The soft stuff," she whispers in awe, grabbing it immediately.

"YOU," Law near-shouts, then lowers the volume to an aggressive whisper while tumbling out from his chair; "put those things away right now." Uni and Shachi are in the control room and could barge in any time, and by god, he cannot let them know that he's actually kept every. single. one of these. His occasionally mulled-over plan to just dump it all on the nearest kindergarten or clinic is suddenly top priority, because fucking Kat with her apparently zero self-restraint will unearth any embarrassing secret or cursed relic she can put her grabby hands on. Not to mention digging up traumatic memories she should have zero access to. And she has his body, his devil fruit… is there anything he has that is safe from this woman?!

"Okay, okay, I will," she slurs as he dumps backpack burglar bear in with the others and is reaching for the one in her hands; "but… "

"But what," he hisses as she lifts it out of reach, eyeing the door behind them while also listening for movement.

"Can I keep this one?" she squeaks, holding her new stuffed friend with the plaid bandana scarf close. He's been given so many and puts them all someplace nobody could find them, one more or less really won't matter, right? "Please?" … it kind of stinks, though. Nothing that a round or two in the washing machine cannot fix, though.

"…" He's had to deal with some weird requests in the past few months, but this… this is the one that takes the cake. "Why the hell do you want it?" he bursts out, struggling to keep his volume low. "Isn't there enough useless garbage in that dump house of yours already?!"

The chest sways in the air as shame washes over Kat's face; she can't get any sound through the lump in her throat for ten solid seconds. Once her color fades into the negatives and she would be able to say something, she has no words left in her.

Seeing her mood whiplash, Law gets to calm down and lets out a frustrated sigh. He's done it now, didn't he. Legitimately hurt her. It was only a question of time, but he expected to feel less of an ass over it. The accusation is unfair anyhow, since he also has a room full of obsolete shit and a huge treasure chest reserved for nothing but teddy bears that everyone thinks he's long gotten rid of.

"Whatever, take it if…" Kat reaches out with the plushie in hand… "… you, uh…" … and puts it back on top of the pile.

"Don't want it," she mumbles through her sore throat.

"It's… it doesn't matter, I'm full on these things. Won't be able to cram in any more, anyway." About two bigger ones, and he won't be able to shut the lid without squishing its inhabitants.

She shakes her head. "This memory… is no good."

"…" The memory? The random junk in the 'dump,' and all that knickknack she has littering the place that are on the decorative side of things are… stuff to remember things by? More specifically, reminders of pleasant things. Huh. Suppose… there is something to that.

He takes one more look at the bears inside, then shuts the chest. "I see." Both of them have some long overdue spring cleaning to do, and not only on the physical plane.

Kat then rearranges the mess into the same pile as she has found it; chest as the base, followed by tightly rolled-up posters to the sides to support the folders and books on them, another doctor's suitcase that's barely in one piece, a metal case between that and the wardrobe, and finally, the notebooks and whatever else… on top. All that's missing is the little shelf rack that was sitting in front.

Law can tell by a single glance at her body language that she's lost all motivation she might have had thus far. Great. Just… great. He made her plummet back to square one, if not zero. Can't help but keep digging your own damn grave, can you? Take a deep breath and do what you have to. "Kat-ya?"

She freezes up for a moment, then lets out a questioning hum.

Not even on talking terms, huh?

"As one hoarder to another… sorry."

After some delay, she sniffs.

"... don't you fucking start crying on me."

Long story short, she did start silent crying and the man had to manually insert a leftover cracker in her mouth like a punch card and had her drink the last cup's worth of tea to get her to calm down. She felt both empty and relieved, and also like a big baby in need of their favorite stuffed toy for the rest of the day. Law meanwhile likely felt like playing a very done surrogate dad, dealing with an insufferable kid on the way home. Shachi even tried to nickname him 'Mr Babysitter' once him and Uni had actually entered the place in the middle of it all, but this jab was quickly redirected as Law flat-out told him that taking care of a toddler was nothing new for someone running a daycare 24/7. That one earned an immature, wet faced chuckle from her.

She probably should have felt more embarrassed by the situation overall. However, she kind of enjoyed it, even? Which also ought to have earned much more shame on her part, but she just became really calm and tired for the rest of the day. Crying feels good, sometimes.

Also sometimes, she has to wonder whether coffee even works.

"Okay, touch-me-not… time to hit the hay," she can hear Law's voice phase in some time later before getting shooed from her button project and out of the room. "And tomorrow, try to act like a respectable adult, because as of now… it's hard to look at you as a grown-ass woman." It feels like he had to turn into an actual babysitter, if not a pet owner for the day. And holy shit, was it fucking exhausting. She might be on par with Luffy in this regard.

She just gives a tired, matter of fact 'okay' as an answer as she surveys the doorway with vacant eyes.

The flat response… is not something he's used to. Is she like this after letting some steam out, or…? "... are you actually registering the things I say?"

"Yes, I'm just… one with the universe," she nods.

Law squints at her, then shoves the woman personally out the door; her eyes are still a little red, and the weird (although not really out of character) answer would make him suspect her being high on weed, if not for the fact that it's a substance that can be found in one single container on his wannabe-estate, that is to say, in his room, and that one is locked shut ever since some not-so-mysterious vanishing acts. Even if she shoplifted him, he would fucking notice, sharing the goddamn space all day. "You talk and walk like a zombie, get the fuck out right now."

He watches her wobble up the staircase for a bit, then closes the door with a shaking head. This… was certainly a day.

A few comatose minutes later, Kat walks into the unlit room and falls into the cotton pile unceremoniously right after. Nice and cool… almost enough to beat some life into her. Almost. It gives just enough energy to stop suffocating by flipping over, and pull one of the things over her torso. After lying around in the empty room for a bit, she turns on her side and hugs the blanket tight. She's missing her hug pillow a lot right now. Wondering about how nice it would be to have that, or the huge, white bear over, or even just another layer so this place feels less hard, she falls asleep rather fast.

Then, in what feels like a minute later, she finds herself sweating bullets. There was another nightmare, which was easily the worst one as of yet; being shut into the chest with plushies, barely able to move, with noone to hear her voice... And the screams of people outside... and the guns, just... the never ending gunshots and screaming. She shudders just thinking about it… a dream like this would upset her even without context. After shedding a few tears, she also feels the pain slowly settle inside; she was just thinking what felt off about this dream… the absence of agonizing stabs and cramps is what it was. This time, it's creeping up her right thigh and her hips, setting them on fire in real time, then the already throbbing sternum turns into a knife in her chest. Any other vague throb around the stomach has nothing on these, they might as well not even exist. She peeks direction windows to see nothing but darkness; she can hear the soft breaths of the other three, so a considerable amount of time has passed, but it must be pretty early still... she's got the bad feeling that this pain will not go away until morning, and sleeping back in right now is just... unless she faints from this, there's no way she will.

There is indeed no more rest she can get; after the generally early bird Carrot leaves, she sits up to get at least that part done, then tries her best to get on her feet before the others start moving as the alarm sounds an hour later. Task is successfully mastered in time, although she has to lean on one of the chairs for a minute, because even while being more numb than in pain at the moment, her legs did not appreciate that.

" … bad day for sleep, huh?" Nami half-asks from her own daze once having taken a look at her.

"Nnnnhng," is all that Kat can manage for the time being. Getting tortured aside, she really hasn't slept a lot, even with the near immediate knockout in the evening. Her brain is on autopilot; nobody suspects that her hobbling and nearly running into walls has any other cause than the velcro eyelids, really. At least moving around seems to ease her suffering somewhat.

By the time she has to stand up from the dining table and make her way down, the temporal alleviation has worn off and she can barely manage the task without falling back onto the chair. This is worse than the two weeks of hell from spring when she managed to trap a nerve in her spine. There's also a numbness spreading on her right side, slowly creeping higher and higher as the soreness decides to look for a new target before moving on from her hips for good. She could cry, really... likely slept through the worst every time thus far. God… being Law sucks.

As soon as she enters his room, which looks somehow even messier than before, Law clicks his tongue beside the chest of drawers which is buried under new junk.

"If nothing else, you have impeccable timing whenever you are following the routine… good morning." Looking back at her slowly puzzling the scenery together, his face displays overt exasperation soon enough. "… I can already tell you will need full-time supervision today, so I'm skipping the briefing. I wanted to take matters into my own hands, anyway." Matters being… her focus, which seems to react well to spoon-fed attention judging by her episode yesterday. Whatever amount of that still exists in this walking corpse. This experimental endeavor might be ill-timed, but to hell with it all, he's already planned this out, and he's going to go through with it. He turns back to the piece of furniture to stack some of the junk they won't be needing today; "Move it while we're young, alright?"

She hums. Closing the door, her eyes linger on the chest in the corner. Turning back towards him, she stops for a moment; asking would be all kinds of rude, yet she can't help but wonder… how much of the dreams are actual things that happened. A lot of people she sees and meets certainly are… or were actual people.

Also… how does he handle days like these? Does he lock himself up in his room, or is he just lowkey clingy? Well… there's always Bepo to look for, minks are cuddly and he does get comfortable leaning on him and whatnot. Must be his go-to therapy. Would be nice to have access to that, since the polar bear really is as soft as it gets. Honestly… she really needs to hug the shit out of something decently squishy that won't ask follow-up questions right about now. Questions that are none of their business, at least.

"Zombie attack," she moans in a monotone voice, hobbling to his side with stiff thighs.

He mouths a 'wha' as the words click just as she goes in for the kill. "What the- Kat-ya, what now?" he asks in bafflement as soon as the initial surprise wears off. Also, these impulse hugs are only getting tighter, aren't they?

She gives him a little squeeze before release, but there's no answer.

Law raises a brow while staring at her blank, if not sad expression; a few seconds of consideration later he lets out a tired, knowing sigh. "Nightmare?"

The girl nods with a hum after some delay.

" … no tea and crackers if you haven't brought more, so that's that." Not sure what else he could start with, or do in general. He'd rather avoid the rest of yesterday's fiasco.

"I'm supposed to be a big girl now, so I won't ask for any," Kat pouts to that with overdone articulation as if reading his mind. "I might ask for some hugs, though," she adds stepping out of the role of a five-year-old with a sigh that sounds as painful as her liver area feels now. The heat is also getting to her today and she already is about to break out in sweat. Except she doesn't, which just makes her feel like implodig with nausea.

"…" He can't think of anything on the spot, but she could be asking worse. Hell… he's kind of getting used to it. "Eh, whatever, I'll bear a few if necessary," he shrugs at last. But: "Tell me beforehand and keep it to a minimum, though." She may not be able to disturb him during work today, but if he doesn't give restrictions, she might cling to him all the damn time. As upsetting those dreams may get at times, that's absolutely unnecessary.

She perks up; did he just… okay it? "Woah… really?"

"Yes, re-" Law deadpans as she gives him the frontal treatment right away. "-ally. Honestly, do you have to do this?" he sighs in limp resignation. He feels like becoming a comfort article… she might have been in need of that bear, after all.

"Absolutely," she says beaming as she straightens herself with some care as to not trigger some really unpleasant things. "you are big, warm and strong, so I can give soft, high quality hugs to everyone I like!" Being half a beefcake and heater feels nice~ Gotta accept that her body really is on the bony side after getting to hug herself a few times.

First of all: was that an indirect compliment? Second of all: there's a foreboding number of likely people she's already made close physical contact with… apart from being embarrassing and potential blackmail, his relatively weak immune system should not be put into situations all haphazardly like that. Hopefully she washes her hands regularly, if nothing else. And finally, she hugs people she likes, and the implied message of having received, like, five in the past two days already… all in all, every single aspect of that sentence gives Law something vaguely alarming to think about.

He opens his mouth, then closes it again as he cannot muster an answer. Well then… move on? "... aaanyway… you seem to have magically woken up, so here's the deal with today: I was thinking of some changes, that is to say, instead of ogling you from the sidelines, I will be actively present in your training schedule. Also, we'll be doing various mixed tasks for as long as you're… operable? How much sleep did you get?"

Kat finds this idea to her liking; can't do wrong when being instructed, and company makes for a less boring day. She lowkey needs some supervision and someone to tell her what to do all the time to be at maximum productivity, anyway. Getting interrupted too often has the total opposite effect, but…trying can't hurt. "Could have been five? I'm not sure. Anyhow, that… sounds nice, actually."

Luckily, after settling into the new system and the pain receding for a while, the morning is an overall blast. Partly since she's basically constructing a junk castle over and over, removing and inserting parts with as little leeway as possible. Also, despite her worries… Law would actually make a pretty good teacher? His explanations use more jargon than necessary, but they leave just enough up to imagination and he also lets her deviate from the task. He helps no more or less than what she needs, too. Who would have thought. She sneakily uses Scan to her benefit as well, since it aids at taking things out of other things. Funny how she's getting the hang of the reverse task faster… or so it would be, if time was not pressing her to succeed at both as fast as possible.

Getting up for the fifth time in a few minutes to adjust something towards noon serves as a quick reminder that she was getting too brave with moving around, because the stabbing pain returns as quickly as it was slow at fading out. This time she actually is covered in cold sweat all of a sudden and overcome by a sense of weakness as well. That won't be her blood sugar… but could be.

"Suddenly… I feel like I could eat a horse," Kat notes between gritting her teeth. Yeeeesh, some muscle is fucking cramping on her right side, holy fuck… It's fortunate that Law's to her back, because… Okay, okay, okay… it's receding, take a breath. "Kind of forgot getting more than the usual after the forced wake. I don't suppose you have one lying around? Some snacks would be nice until… lunch." And now blood pressure seems to be plummeting, too… ho, boy. Imagine how he would react if she just fainted right now. Not fun, not at all.

He sighs. "You should have more than just a cup of cocoa anyhow? Feed me proper, that body is used to labor and burns what it gets, goddammit." He does get up, however, and adjusts his pants quick. He needs a breather from this anyhow. "I’m also getting peckish, so I might as well get something. Lunch won’t be ready for an hour at least… you won’t want to eat rice balls, I suppose, so French toast or toast toast? Likely slightly burnt in either case. That's about all I'm capable of." Hopefully Fugu won't catch him red-handed… if he's lucky, the cook's already headed out for veggies and stuff.

… not eating at all was a lie, but she's suddenly reminded of how long it's been since she's had either. Or scrambled eggs. With pepper and paprika, and thinly sliced garlic… can't have him try and fuck that one up, though. "... give me your best shot at a French toast, two slices," she replies with a watery mouth.

"Just don't complain if you don't like it," he shrugs walking up to the exit. "Be right back."

Being alone for a moment, she groans in frustration. The pain is not only back, but just as bad as it was, like it just won't stop at all. It sneakily crawled up her neck in the past hour, making it stiff, and now it started eating the right side of her face from the inside out and she already knows this will end with a splitting headache. The goddamn left shoulder is also getting tense again, but that keeps happening so often she doesn't even notice any more unless it hurts.

Thinking about that, her eyes wander over to his desk- and then to the upper right shelf where he fished out a pill from the other day. After short consideration, she steps over to the furniture slowly and rests the tip of her finger on the handle. These are for him, right? What if she just…