#of lyres and lapins

[ponds-of-ink]

So uhhh… Remember when I said “Beware the Rime”?

Well, I’m gonna be honest, that was foreshadowing for @lyresandlapins. It’s another side blog, but it’s not a character ask one this time.

(…Well, okay, we’ll see after November…)

It’s actually an archive for the first ever early draft for Of Lyres and Lapins, since I actually couldn’t think of where else to put it. This way, y’all can read what I’ve got in mind and I actually have a decent way to keep track of my progress all throughout November.

Updating might be daily, buuut we’ll have to see. Life can be bonkers sometimes.

So, TL;DR: New side blog is out, Lyres and Lapins is getting a test run until December 1st, and the first chapter (+ a blog-exclusive intro) is already up. If you’re interested, feel free to check it out!

[lyresandlapins]

Of Lyres And Lapins - Chapter 4 (“Changing Plans”)

This took too long to write, tbh. Both because of a minor case of writer’s block and because there was so much I wanted to put in here. At least the next few chapters should take one day (or less) each.

—

Translator’s Note: Becsuse of last minute revelations about my writing speed, I have struggled to streamline my translations for each cultural phrase or Wysteria-exclusive malady. It has not gone as quickly or as smoothly as I had hoped. I apologize for my slowness in getting these chapters “published” as a result.

The next few promise to be much shorter (and better paced), as they are translated more directly from Sabine’s journal. I thank her for being brief in her descriptions.

—

A faint knock made Sabine stir. She rubbed her eyes, then stretched. “I’ll be with you soon,” she told the stranger in a groggy voice. “Just let me get my things first.”

She put on her vest, tied her cloth belt, then fumbled into her well-worn boots. Another knock dissuaded her from slinging on her instrument knapsack. “Must be something important,” she figured as she hobbled to the door. Without any other guesses as to why such a knock would be repeated three times by now, she carefully opened the door.

Much to her surprise, there stood Old Dale himself. “A merry sunrise to you!” he greeted cheerfully. “I see the Winter’s Wiles avoided you after all. A fine miracle indeed!”

Sabine nearly said “I told you she wouldn’t, sir”, but didn’t out of respect. She simply nodded and rested an arm against the doorway. Her eyes finally spotted the still-purple sky, which made her tilt her head. “I thank you for checking-in, sir,“ she said with a skeptical tone, “but I’ve got to wonder why you’ve woken me up two hours before sunrise.“

Dale’s pale skin turned clammy. “Well, now, there stirs the pot,” he answered quietly, leaning closer to her. “I don’t know what’s come over our usual bard, but he’s been ever-so-sick since my wife’s left the window open. I can tell you it’s not the Winter Wiles, but it has to be something that’ll mess with your stomach rather than your head.”

Sabine rummaged through her own past illnesses. “Are you sure it’s not blossom fever?” she inquired. “I’ve ran into that a couple of times on my travels.”

“Could be,” Dale murmured thoughtfully. “Most of the symptoms line up: The hurling, the burning face, the eyes and nose wellin’ up… The only thing that doesn’t track to me is the stuff he’s seeing.”

Sabine blinked. “‘The stuff he’s seeing?’” she repeated, tilting her head towards her other shoulder.

Dale placed his hand around his neck. “Perhaps you should come and learn for yourself,” he suggested with a shrug. “If I try and tell you any of what he’s been saying, you wouldn’t believe me.”

With a quick stride, Sabine entered back into her room and opened up her case. She pulled out her fiddle and slung the strap around her shoulder. “Lead the way, and hurry,” she instructed him as she rejoined him on the doorstep. “He may not have the Winter Wiles now, but he might catch it if he goes back to sleep.”

“Do you know what he might have, then?” Dale asked as they began their trek.

“No, but I have a decent guess,” Sabine answered in her most somber tone. Without any explanation, she wordlessly followed behind the innkeeper.

The sun slowly rose as the two arrived at the inn. Old Dale wrapped on the door with his walking stick. Not a minute later, an equally older woman—bent and silver-haired by aforementioned age— opened the door. “He’s in the Musican’s Room,” she said softly, gesturing to a door on the farthest wall. “His head’s throbbing less, but he’s still rambling.”

Old Dale started to step inside, but Sabine rushed past. She halted to mutter an apology to them both, then kept going. Her footsteps barely touched the floor as she reached the door. With the standard dexterity most expect from bards, she plucked the strands of her fiddle. Her body twisted in such a way that her head could lean against the door, but her arms were ready to play the melody again.

Silence kept its grip.

Once again, Sabine plucked the strings of her fiddle.

A lyre greeted her ears. Its own tune was more clumsy-sounding, yet still very audible.

Sabine sighed in relief. She put the bow in her other hand, then opened the door. “A merry sunrise to you, sir,” she greeted quietly as she entered inside the room. “I take it you’re feeling much better?”

A finely-dressed bard leaned against a velvet couch. He clung to his lyre as he glanced at Sabine. “As well as I can be,” he answered hoarsely. “That thing… It still haunts me when I close my eyes…”

“What ‘thing’?” Sabine asked while closing the door with her foot.

The bard gave a frail sigh. “Do you promise not to laugh?” he responded, only letting his eyes motion to a nearby ottoman.

“I don’t think I can,” Sabine answered as she carefully made her way to her seat. “You look like you’ve just survived a massive mind-strike.”

“For all I know, I might have,” the bard muttered. “And all because of some random bunny munching on Old Dale’s garden...”

Sabine leaned forward. Her eyebrows raised. “Did.. this bunny have two red eyes?” she inquired.

“Yes. As red and bright as fire-gems.”

“Did the bunny also stare at you?”

The bard’s eyes widened. Some color returned to his paled face. “Yes,” he said in a less sickly tone. “Did you also happen to see it?”

Sabine brushed back a strand of her hair. “For a moment,” she chuckled weakly. “Now I wish I didn’t just shrug it off and go to bed. It would’ve made your morning so much easier.”

Her listener attempted to laugh, but all that came out was a harsh cough. He regained his composure, then tried to pluck the strings of his lyre. His playing did become more skillful as the seconds passed, but he soon placed the lyre back into the floor. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say before burying his face into the arm of the couch. “I can neither play my lyre nor talk of that thing anymore. It’s a miracle I can even talk…”

Sabine picked up her fiddle and continued the lyre’s song. She only glanced at Old Dale and his wife as they peered in. Her catalogue of tunes was vast, but none of them covered what they had just discussed. All she could do now was wait until her fellow musician was fast asleep. The explanation would have to hold off until then.

Unfortunately for her, that moment would never come. As soon as her playing was over, the morning crowd arrived. Old Dale and his wife had to put her in their sleeping lyre-man’s position. She spent the rest of her day pretending that her fiddle was a lyre. Slowly but surely wearing down her bronze strings with every pluck. Watching the patrons come in and out from her small corner of the room. The only attention being given now were those wondering about where Forrest was— And, often times, being asked directly about how long it would be before she was out of town. Even the returning customers wondered the same thing, though their questions turned into harsher taunts the more nighttime settled in.

The sky was dark purple by the time she exited the tavern. Her legs and arms shook. She was silent as Old Dale handed her a bag of coins. “Terribly sorry about all this trouble,” she heard him say as she turned away. “I figured Forrest would be up by noon, but that mind-strike must’ve knocked all the song out of him. At least he’ll be better by tomorrow, eh?”

All she could do was nod and leave. Her weary eyes focused on the road. Countless “names” echoed through her mind, only making her body slump even more. “Nice going, ‘upstager’,” was the clearest thought she had. “You absolute string-breaker. All you’ve done is miss a day’s worth of travel. Now, you’ll have to travel all throughout tonight to make up for it.”

She marched up to her cottage door. With one quick pull, she swung it open. Her eyes tiredly scanned the room. The bed covers had been straightened, the table and chairs remained as bare as before, and the window blind was back in its original position. All in all, whoever maintained this cottage had done their work properly.

Not wanting to disturb the cleanliness of the room, Sabine opted to sit on the rug and do her final preparations there. Her hands made light work of the knapsack. The fiddle and its bow quickly slipped into their rightful slots. The latch sealed the bag with a harsh click. All was set.

Yet, as she slung the bag over her shoulder, a presence seemed to loom over her. Her eyes watered and twitched. The world seemed to gain a reddish glow the more she struggled to keep her eyes open. She fought against her instincts and turned around.

There, in the open doorway, stood the rabbit from last night. It ground its teeth, but kept its distance.. Almost as if it knew that it simply being here took a toll on the tall creature’s body.

Sabine crawled towards it. “What do you want?” she strained out, battling to stare back at those ruby-like eyes. “You’ve made two bards very sick last night just by showing up— And you’re making me feel like I need to hurl when I need to be travelling.”

The rabbit’s ears drooped. The grinding stopped.

Sabine raised her head a little. “Do… you not mean to do that?” she asked with some frailty. “I mean… Can you control it?”

For a moment, words seem to flicker over the bunny’s head. A faint whisper almost seemed to recite it in the listener’s ears.

“No, I can’t.”

Sabine shut her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, the words went away. “Are you… a wizard’s pet that got lost, then?” she questioned, letting her eyes focus on a black-and-gold ribbon loosely wrapped around the animal’s neck. “You’re starting to seem like one.”

The rabbit’s ears raised. It hopped towards her, then turned to its side. A tiny scroll, yellowed by the sun, rested on its back.

“All the answers must be in there,” Sabine thought as she carefully pried off the paper. “Well, I guess I have no choice but to act like the petals of time have stopped moving.”

Carefully, she unraveled the scroll. In a writing style with letters thick like stonework, this message greeted her:

Bearer of this message, I pray this finds you in decent times. I apologize on behalf of my Lady-Rabbit Perdita, as she is afflicted with a terrible wizard’s malady...

Sabine paused. Her eyebrows raised. She skimmed the rest of the first paragraph.

…The “Shard-Bringing Curse”, I believe the tomes at our library called it. It is a dreadful thing that makes the most benign creature appear to be the most hideous thing on Wysteria’s plains.

Another halt. This time, to actually look at this “Lady Perdita” under the Blossom Moon’s light. Yes, it—she— did look relatively normal. If it weren’t for the uncannily human behavior (and patches of black fur set with some grid-like pattern), she would have fit in with any family of white rabbits. Even the reddish eyes—glowing though they were—would’ve not made them want to instantly sprint away.

Feeling a lot more at ease, Sabine resumed reading.

It has brought fear and dismay on both Perdita and my fellow Iron-Guards. Thus, it has been my duty to learn and vanquish this dark spell. And, if it were not for an unrelated incident, I would have succeeded tenfold.

In just one year, I discovered the secret of forcing it to wear off: To love and cherish the affected in spite of what horrors you may see. I do not know how it works or if it varies from person to person. The only thing I am sure of is that it has work— And, if the Iron Will persist, should work.

Alas, any chance of further learning must be passed onto you. I Will have been sent away to the Hollow Haven by the time this has been opened. Thus, I beg two things of you:

Firstly, you must find at least one other rabbit with this curse and bring it to the rest of the Iron-Guards. I read that there are seven— But I have only found one other. Unfortunately, he is currently encased in ice. DO NOT try to find it: It is a fool’s errand.

Sedondly, you must record your bond as you travel. DO NOT try to fake any affection, whatever you do. If Lady Perdita is as smart as the rest, then I am sure that they will know.

Do with this what you wish. If you do decide to continue my quest, then your reward should be as large as my gratitude. May you stay safe and sure as the strongest iron, traveller.

“…Alias of Carolwood,” Sabine read aloud, her tired eyes already shining in the moonlight. She rolled up the scroll, then glanced at the curled-up Perdita. “I have to admit, my ‘lady-rabbit,” Sabine said with a half-smile, “your master makes a pretty good bargain.”

Perdita’s ears raised. New words flashed into Sabine’s mind.

“Is this a ‘yes’?”

“Yes, but not right now,” Sabine answered casually as she placed the scroll in her cloth belt. “We need to get on the road and find a good sleeping tree. Then, maybe I’ll send you back with my pegasus. He’s always good with carrying things on his back.”

Perdita sat up. “No need,” she ‘said’ as she watched her companion rise to her feet. “I know where to go.”

“Do you know where I could start looking, too?” Sabine sniggered.

Perdita did the closest gesture a rabbit could do to a nod. “Try along the rivers,” she ‘instructed’. “I heard quiet water rushing somewhere. It was when I talked to a ‘brother’ of mine. He will be happy to see someone new.”

All Sabine could do was return the nod and start walking outside. “I’ll keeo an ear out,” she called back. “Thanks for the advice… I think. ‘Till… the iron shines in the sunlight…?”

Faint purring was the sole response Perdita gave. She sat at the doorstep, her four paws resting on the rest of her fluffy body. For the first time in months, she could properly sleep again.

[deertism]

🪞💎 — HERTA THEMED NAMES & PRNS!

ⓘ = names / prns / titles that the computer himself uses that you may also use !

🪞💎 — lacie , lacey , puppet , puppette , poppet , poppette , lyre , lyra , phoebe , penelope , vivian , viviane , salvia , iris , lav , lavender , fuchsia , nightshade , catmint , kat , cosmo , cosmos , comet ⓘ , mist , myst , vervain , vervine , henrietta , earth , hertha , terra , marionette , mari , nikki , alita , grace , dia , diamond , jewell , pearl , jade , azalea , magonia , amatisia , sapphire , amethyst , ame , kya , lilac , mauve , violet , painite , emerald , emeralda , dollette , doll , kasper , charlotte , clover , quill , quinn , nana , hope , calista , echo , elissa , evangeline , lapine , bunny , bun , bunnette , primrose , rose

🪞💎 — doll / dollself , lace / laceself , frill / frilly , lae / laes , pup / puppet , string / stringself , fig / figure , joint / jointself , manne / mannequin , mari / marionette , porcelain / porcelainself , mirror / mirrorself , space / spaceself , star / starself , moon / moonself , sol / solar ⓘ , uni / univers , void / voidself , earth / earthself , nebula / nebulaself , gala / galaxy , stell / stellar , gem / gemself , spark / sparkle , dia / diamonds , meteor / meteor , luna / lunaself , 💫 / 💫self , 🪞 / 🪞self , ⭐️ / ⭐️self , 🌌 / 🌌self , 🪐 / 🪐self , 🔭 / ��self 📡 / 📡self , 💎 / 💎self

[ao3feed-hadestown]

I'll Walk Beside You Love

https://ift.tt/ja2hLbz by Party_Poison_05 Mendel was a poor boy with a lyre. Trina was a hungry young girl (who used to be a queen). It's a sad song. It's a love song. It's an old song. And we're gonna sing it again. (i suck at summaries. this is a falsettos x hadestown au. read it i swear it's better than i'm making it look) Words: 605, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn, Hadestown - Mitchell, In Trousers - Finn Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, Multi Characters: Whizzer Brown, Marvin (Falsettos), Trina (Falsettos), Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Dr. Charlotte (Falsettos), Cordelia (Falsettos), Jason (Falsettos), Miss Goldberg (Falsettos), High School Sweetheart (Falsettos), The Workers (Hadestown) Relationships: Whizzer Brown/Marvin, Marvin/Trina (Falsettos), Trina/Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Marvin & Trina (Falsettos), Whizzer Brown & Trina, Dr. Charlotte/Cordelia (Falsettos), Jason (Falsettos) & Everyone, Everyone & Everyone Additional Tags: It's a Hadestown AU idk what to tell you, Mendel as Orpheus, Trina as Eurydice, But also Past!Trina as Persephone, thatll make sense in a minute, Marvin as Hades, Whizzer as Persephone, But also Past!Whizzer as Eurydice, they switch places a couple chapters in, Angst, Sad Ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, NOT ACCURATE TO GREEK MYTHOLOGY, Trains, i guess, technically slave labor is in this ?, whatever you call what the workers are doing, oh shit i forgot the rest of the characters, Dr. Charlotte and Cordelia as Hermes, Jason's kinda doing his own thing, joint custody, he spends the weekends in the underworld XD, Hell, Character Death, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Marvin (Falsettos) has BPD, Marvin (Falsettos) has NPD, forgot yet two more characters woops, Miss Goldberg and Sweetheart as the Fates, there's a reason theres only two of em okay?, maybe non-explicit sex idk yet, we'll see when i get there, that was a lot of tags oops, Drag Queens, Drag Queen!Whizzer Brown (Falsettos), new tag just dropped :3, Marvin (Falsettos) Being an Asshole, Marvin Tries (Falsettos), Whizzer Brown loves Marvin, POV Alternating, Mostly Whizzer and Trina centric, Whizzer Brown & Trina Friendship, !!!, no beta we die like orpheus post canon (head chopped off by angry shovel women) via AO3 works tagged 'Hadestown - Mitchell' https://ift.tt/wmgDeRf

[ponds-of-ink]

Meanwhile, I have several different WIPs. Some that I probably don’t even remember at the moment, so I’ll only name two that I know of.

FNAF Hunchback of Notre Dame AU Chapter 14 (that I’m supposed to be getting back to)? A definitite 10, given the current situation MC is in.

Original Fantasy Work Under The Name Of “Of Lyres and Lapins”? No idea yet, since I’ve got this semi-alternating-POV thing planned. Across three characters, this could either be a 3 to a 7.

Any other stuff depends on where in the story I left off, really.

you are personally and directly hit by a bus¹ and isekai-ed, via resurrection, into the body of the main character your most recent WIP

reblog and tell me: on a scale of 1–10, how screwed are you right now?

¹ this is, transparently, a plot device, so if you are about to tell me "joke's on you, I never leave my fifteenth floor apartment!" then you may rest assured it will have tremendous comedic value when the bus is launched into the sky and crashes through your apartment wall to flatten you anyway

[beautymercurydragon]

Miraculous Ladybug - Team!Verse - All Names/Information

Tags: @jazzymarie1006, @extremely-pearlmethirsty, @officialmiraclequeen, @purple-moonfang, @lukasmcsbr, @flashflashitsash, @gryffindorcls, @sailormew4

Highlighted = Canon

Marinette - Ladybug (hero), Lady Noire (kwami swap), Princess Justice (akuma) - Kwami: Tikki - Power: Creation/Lucky Charm - Miraculous: Earrings - Weapon: Yo-yo

Adrien - Chat Noir (hero), Mister Bug (kwami swap), Chat Blanc (akuma) - Kwami: Plagg - Power: Destruction/Cataclysm - Miraculous: Ring - Weapon: Baton

Alya - Rena Rouge (hero), Verte Coquille (kwami swap), Renarde Rogue (akuma) - Kwami: Trixx - Power: Illusion/Mirage - Miraculous: Necklace Weapon: Flute

Nino - Carapace (hero), Bourgogne Renard (kwami swap), Shell Shock (akuma) - Kwami: Wayzz - Power: Protection/Shelter - Miraculous: Bracelet - Weapon: Shield

Chloe - Queen Bee (hero), Reine Guenon (kwami swap), Queen Wasp (akuma) - Kwami: Pollen - Power: Immobilization/Venom - Miraculous: Hair comb - Weapon: Spinner top

Kim - King Monkey (hero), Roi Bourdon (kwami swap), Party Monster (akuma) - Kwami: Xuppu - Power: Jubilation/Uproar - Miraculous: Head circlet - Weapon: Ryui Jingu Bang

Max - Pegasus (hero), Monsieur Lapin (kwami swap), Etalon (akuma) - Kwami: Kaalki - Power: Teleportation/Voyage - Miraculous: Glasses - Weapon: Horseshoes

Alix - Bunnix (hero), Dame Jument (kwami swap), Duveteuse Lapine (akuma) - Kwami: Fluff - Power: Time-Travel/Burrow - Miraculous: Pocket watch - Weapon: Umbrella

Kagami - Ryuko (hero), Queen Cobra (kwami swap), Ryujoo (akuma) - Kwami: Longg - Power: Elements/Wind Dragon/Lightning Dragon/Water Dragon - Miraculous: Choker - Weapon: Sword

Luka - Viperion (hero), Dragon Prince (kwami swap), Pit Viper (akuma) - Kwami: Sass - Power: Repetition/Second Chance - Miraculous: Dangle bracelet - Weapon: Lyre

Juleka - Tigress (hero), Beanmuc (kwami swap), Scarlet Claw (akuma) - Kwami: Roaar - Power: Stealth/Tiger Claw - Miraculous: Panjas bracelet - Weapon: Staff

Rose - Piglette (hero), Tigresse (kwami swap), Flower Girl (akuma) - Kwami: Daizzi - Power: Nature/Daisy Chains - Miraculous: Pearl anklet - Weapon: Bag of toys

Mylene - Mousette (hero), Vache (kwami swap), Souris Grise (akuma) - Kwami: Mullo - Power: Multiplication/Multitude - Miraculous: Pendant - Weapon: Jump Rope

Ivan - Boeuf (hero), Monsieur Souris (kwami swap), Taurus (akuma) - Kwami: Stompp - Power: Strength/Charge - Miraculous: Nose ring - Weapon: Hammer

Marc - Scapebouc (hero), Sircoq (kwami swap), Mouton Noir (akuma) - Kwami: Ziggy - Power: Hypnosis/Goat’s Horn - Miraculous: Hair clips - Weapon: Horn (like those things at Thanksgiving lol, but smaller)

Nathaniel - Corbeau (hero), Ziege (kwami swap), Rooster Hood (akuma) - Kwami: Orikko - Power: Featherbrain/Confusion - Miraculous: Thumb ring -

Sabrina -  Garde Beagle (hero), No kwami swap (considering she didn’t have a partner sksjsjksj), Chienne (akuma) - Kwami: Barkk - Power: Go Fetch/Loyalty - Miraculous: Collar

Asks/story beginners are officially open! Submit away all you want!

[plume-alcine]

Pâques, au ras des pâquerettes

Cela va faire un mois, bientôt, que cette lourde sentence est tombée, écrasante de conséquences. Bientôt un mois que le confinement est à l'honneur et règne en maître, main de fer dans un gant de velours, roi masqué derrière le doux supplice de l'ennui. La date fatale, un jour avant le sacre de ma naissance, et bientôt nous atteindrons et dépasserons les quarante jours de la quarantaine.

Et cette année, en ce jour, les Cloches ne sonneront pas, dispersant leurs oeufs aux quatre vents. Et cette année, en ce 12 Avril 2020, le Lapin de Pâques restera sagement dans son terrier.

Je me souviens avec amertume des errances mélancoliques de ma jeune âme en peine. Mon adolescence me faisait ressembler à un poète mélancolique, épanchant sa dépression à travers des mots qui honoraient Shéol. J'avais ce que les aèdes d'avant appelait le "mal du siècle", la vague impression de l'inutilité de cette ère, le sentiment que mon époque ne connaîtrait aucune épreuve, que nous n'aurions pas notre part d'Histoire, et de Légende.

Regretté-je un peu, aujourd'hui, ces soupirantes pensées ? Je ne saurai le dire. J'ai toujours eu un faible pour les notes mélancoliques de la lyre d'Apollon. Ce qui est certain, c'est que lorsque je pensais rêveusement à un événement venant briser la plate monotonie de cette époque, je ne pensais pas à ce genre de "Malheur".

Je ne pensais pas à l'attaque sournoise et invisible du Covid-19, ni au confinement logique qui s'ensuivit. Je pensais encore moins à la bêtise humaine, l'incompréhensible ruée sur le papier toilette - et les pâtes. Mais le papier toilette ? Certainement les mêmes idiots, inconscients et égoïstes qui brisent le confinement car s'ennuyer chez soi a un air de vacances. Pardon ? Condescendante, moi ? Mais que chanterons les légendes, plus tard, si elle ne conte pas et le courage et la loyale dévotion du personnel soignant (et de tous ceux qui travaillent encore), et l'idiotie éloquente des pilleurs de PQ ?

Qu'importe. Je n'ai plus le sentiment que cela se terminera. Léthargique esprit, propice à la nostalgie, mélancolique à la fenêtre. La Nature me paraît si loin, et à la fois si proche. Et si je m'élance, appelez-moi Icare (je ne désire pas sur ma tombe l'on grave que j'ai brisé le Mal Nécessaire). Je patienterai, j'attendrai comme Pénélope a longtemps attendu Ulysse, sans les supplices et les dangers que cette grande Dame a eu à affronter en l'absence du guerrier rusé. A la fin de nos doux tourments, le monde sera-t-il aussi changé qu'Ulysse retrouvant Ithaque après vingt ans de peines ?

Nous le verrons bien. Ce ne sont plus les Parques qui tiennent entre leurs mains les fils de nombreuses vies ; en tout cas, si vous ne désirez pas risquer de voir le votre abruptement coupé, ne jouez pas avec le jeu. Ne soyons pas les insolents Icare, ceux qui se brûleront les ailes parce qu'ils n'ont pas supporté l'ennuie et l'enfermement. Ah, que dirait-on de nous ! Qu'ils doivent rire, parfois, ceux qui nous observent depuis l'éternel festin…

[jezatalks]

J'ai la flemme de dessiner mes récaps

Par contre je suis motivée pour dessiner un AU de moi et les potes en mode Miraculous (à notre façon). Le 1er chapitre a été décidé et écris cette nuit. On se marre bien

Voilà les designs rapidos (et pleins d'erreurs)

Dans l'ordre

Olivier aka Ryuken le Dragon

Flora Aka Orphée l'oiseau lyre

Jezebel (moi) aka Usagi le lapin

Éléonore aka Félindra le tigre blanc (J'ai oublié les oreilles et la queue haha)

Noémie aka Milky Mooh la vache

Samuel, aka Sami aka Pipostrovio la pie

Joey aka Selkie le phoque

Et enfin Colin aka Piranha. (Le vilain pas beau du chapitre)

[angeygirl]

The main seven I've got usually get categorized together even if they're not typically working together. I just like making things line up in categories so they've all got a colour and a gemstone. They technically all have one of the seven deadly sins as a character trait, but wrath got repeated because a fire spirit and a catboy are half brothers And there's no way I'd write a character with lust as a major trait. I don't have that in me :/

Not so coincidentally, red, yellow, green and indigo get turned into the Nightmare animatronics in that FNaF 4 Lore AU (plus Wolfworm who's originally the werewolf girl mentioned in that RP with Bill Sr.)

So is the villains having music abilities the Lyre part of 'Lyres and Lapins'?

Anyway will someone talk about OCs with me?

[ilya100ans]

Il y a 100 Ans

Novembre-Décembre 1921 - des Annales de Lyre No. 185 : 2. Cambriolage simulé !

MARCHÉS

Lyre. – 12 novembre. Œufs, 8 fr. 5 la douz. ; lait, 0 fr. 80 ; beurre, 7 francs la livre. – Camembert de 2 fr. 35 à 2 fr. 70.

Les cartes de pain à prix réduit sont supprimées depuis juillet. – Depuis le 26 novembre, le pain est taxé à 0 fr. 95 le kilo.

Le prix des pommes se maintient élevé, aux environs de 4 fr. 50 la rasière, à cause des frais de transport et droits exorbitants.

Etat de la plaine. – Neige, le 2 novembre. La sécheresse proprement dite a pris fin. Mais, les mares sont loin d’être pleines. La procession des tonneaux continue.

_________

Lyre.  – Dans les Usines ! Reprise accentuée du commerce. Fin du chômage. – A Chagny, depuis octobre, les ouvriers travaillent à pleine semaine. Il n’y a pas cependant de travail de nuit, de 10 heures du soir à 5 heures du matin.

Lyre. – Attention ! Ce n’est pas sans raison que les poteaux de l’électricité portent l’inscription « Danger de mort ». Les lignes du Petit-Quevilly et de Ray-Aube, qui passent par Lyre, portent des courants de seize mille volts. Des accidents mortels, arrivés récemment, nous rappellent que si les fils de ces lignes venaient à tomber, il ne faudrait pas les toucher même avec un morceau de bois ou d’étoffe.

Neuve-Lyre. – La fête du 13 novembre s’est bornée à un Te Deum à l’église, et un cortège militaire au cimetière, où M. le Maire a insisté sur le devoir de graver le souvenir de nos morts, non seulement sur la pierre, mais dans nos cœurs.

Neuve-Lyre. – Aviation. – Le 10 octobre, nous avons été témoins d’une course de deux avions, venant de Laigle. Ils volaient à environ 500 mètres.

Chagny. – Vol. – Un camarade, récemment arrivé de Laigle, avait dérobé à M. P. les 152 francs de sa quinzaine. Le voleur a fait des aveux et restitué une centaine de francs à M. P. – Il n’en a pas moins été conduit à la prison d’Evreux.

Sébécourt. – Le débat de l’homme et de la femme comme disait le bon Moine de Lyre. – Chaises renversées. Armoire ouverte. Linge déplié et répandu. Femme atterrée : - Mon pauv’gas, dit-elle à son mari, quand il revient de Bois-Anzeray où il travaille. J’étais à qu’ri d’l’herbe pou’ les lapins, su’ l’coup d’dix heures. Quand j’sis rentrée, v’là c’que j’trouve. C’est queuq’cambrioleux qu’aura passé pa’ l’carriau. Heureux qu’i’ n’a rien emporté ! – Et mon portefeuille ? demande l’homme, dans un cri. – T’avais don un portefeuille ? – Là, derrière el cadre : Et i’ n’y est pus ! – Tu crais ? – R’garde ! – Y avait-i’ queque’chose eddans ? – Deux mille six cents francs, sans un sou d’moins. – Qué qu’tu dis ? – Deux mille six cents francs, qué j’té dis ! – Ah ! bah ! mais c’est presque un miion ! Pouquoué itou qu’tu m’el disais pas ? – Faut p’têt’ bin vous dire tout, à vous autres ! – Si j’lavais su, ça n’s’rait pas arrivé. D’abord, je n’s’rais pas sortie. – C’est pas tout ça. I’faut qu’ m’n argent se r’trouve. Va qu’ri les gendarmes, et vite !

Dernière heure. Les gendarmes sont venus. Leur enquête a établi que la bonne dame avait simulé un cambriolage. Mon pauv’gas !

[franckdoutrery]

Ouverture de la chasse

Au tout début l’homme n’aimait pas la chasse. Parce qu’il séjournait au paradis et qu’il avait donné leur nom à tous les animaux, chacun selon son espèce. Il s’entendait bien avec le tigre de Bengale et fréquentait volontiers l’ours polaire, qu’il cajolait comme un nounours. D’ailleurs, à quoi aurait servi la chasse, puisqu’il n’aimait ni le civet de chevreuil ni le sanglier aux cèpes. Il se nourrissait de fruits et légumes qui poussaient en quantité dans l’Éden. Bref, il était végétarien. Puis Yahvé lui modela une compagne à partir de la côte surnuméraire, estimant qu’il n’est pas bon que l’homme reste seul. Dans son insondable providence, il avait prévu que tôt ou tard celui-ci aurait besoin d’une femme pour faire la cuisine, la vaisselle, la lessive et le nettoyage de printemps. Or cette compagne, végétarienne elle aussi, avait un penchant pour les pommes du paradis, des golden savoureuses, que Yahvé avait frappées d’interdit, mais qu’un serpent perfide lui conseilla de manger tout de même. Elle craqua donc pour une d’elles, la croqua et en donna une part à son compagnon, qui la trouva délicieuse. Et ce fut la cause de ce qu’on appelle depuis lors la chute de l’homme et son expulsion du paradis. D’où des guerres, des révolutions, des pandémies, des intempéries, des émissions de téléréalité et d’autres nuisances.

Et puis il y eut la chasse. De tous les sports, disait Vialatte, c’est le plus cynégétique. C’est même le seul qui le soit vraiment. Sous ce nom générique figurent la chasse à courre (bien que moins courue de nos jours), la chasse au faucon, à l’appeau, au tir et au piège ; la chasse au lion, au renard et aux papillons. Mais aussi la chasse gardée avec l’écriteau « Défense d’entrée ! » Sans oublier la chasse à l’homme, qui remonte aux temps les plus anciens. Or d��s son bannissement du paradis, notre ancêtre eut besoin de changer de régime alimentaire. La cueillette de fruits de saison, les légumes du potager local, le circuit court et la cuisine écoresponsable, c’était bon pour l’Éden. Depuis son expulsion, il devait gagner son bifteck à la sueur de son front. Or donc, pour recharger ses batteries, il lui fallait du consistant, du saignant même, un menu qui tienne au ventre et nourrisse son homme. Et même sa femme. C’est pourquoi il conçut des silex néolithiques à double face, des javelots magdaléniens, des cognées de l’Aurignacien, tous outils de chasse qui lui permirent d’abattre et de dépecer le mammouth laineux, l’aurochs des steppes et les sangliers d’Obélix.

Mais il fallut inventer avant tout l’arc. Pour ce faire, l’homme coupa une branche d’if, la plia dans le sens voulu et tendit une corde de chanvre entre les deux bouts. Le résultat lui parut parfait, mais sa capacité crânienne n’étant encore que de 1500 cm3, il ne vit pas bien ce qu’il pouvait en faire. Il fit d’abord vibrer la corde, ce qui donna un son agréable à l’oreille. Ce ne fut pas encore l’Art de la fugue, mais c’en fut la promesse. Puis il ajouta plusieurs cordes à son arc sans se rendre compte qu’il préparait ainsi la lyre, la harpe et d’autres instruments à cordes. Or si la musique adoucit les mœurs, elle ne remplit pas l’estomac. Pour préparer le civet du soir, il faut d’abord tirer le marcassin. C’est pourquoi on a besoin de flèches. D’abord l’homme essaya d’en fabriquer avec la première tige venue. Autant dire qu’il fit flèche de tout bois. Puis, d’essai en échec, il perfectionna l’outil avec des fûts d’épicéa ou de cèdre. Il ajouta une pointe en silex d’un côté et des plumes de coq de l’autre. Et il partit à la chasse avec ou sans chien de race.

Or les descendants de l’homme ne se bornèrent pas à chasser pour remplir le frigidaire de l’époque glacière. Jadis chasseurs-cueilleurs nomades, ils se sédentarisèrent, entourant leur domaine de clôtures ou de fils barbelés. Et ils en firent de même pour leur pays au moyen de frontières, de postes de douanes ou de murs en béton. Et quand les voisins voulurent empiéter sur leur chasse gardée, ils les chassèrent avec les mêmes armes qu’ils avaient jadis utilisées pour abattre antilopes et bouquetins. D’où la chasse au gibier, qui se mua en chasse à l’homme. D’où aussi guéguerres, guérillas, guerres civiles, coloniales, de religion ou mondiales. D’où razzias, pillages et ravages. D’où par-dessus tout la chasse à l’alimentation carnée, qui causa des carnages.

De nos jours les enfants des hommes suivent l’exemple de leurs aînés. Ils y sont incités notamment par le Père Noël, qui leur apporte très tôt pistolets, mitrailleuses automatiques et bazookas imitation. Avec la munition qui va avec. Bientôt ils iront eux aussi à la chasse. Ou à la guerre. De Gaulle disait que celle-ci diffère de la chasse en ce que les lapins tirent également. « Ce matin, un lapin a tué un chasseur … » C’est peut-être ainsi que le chasseur passe l’arme à gauche. Sinon dans la réalité, du moins dans la chanson.

[ponds-of-ink]

Bard-core music is helping the writing process for Lyres and Lapins, I think.

[lyresandlapins]

Of Lyres and Lapins - Chapter 3 (“Springtime at Cindersap Village”)

So.. I got sidetracked. A lot. I didn’t mean to, but hoo did life get busy for a moment or two. Sorry about that.

But, hopefully, I’ll be back on track until the end of the month. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, so expect a chapter a day from here on out. Let’s hope this story is worth the wait!

–

Translator’s Notes: I have been advised by my proofreader to stop titling the chapters by when the scene and/or event took place. To give some credit to aforementioned proofreader, the events from here on out range from multiple places to the same place over a couple of days. I will try to do better, but do not be surprised if old habits refuse to die at times.

The following events (though split into two “chapters” due to time constraints on my part) is a combination of various records— Though most of this relies on the account of one Old Dale and the journal entries of someone who clearly learned about the travelling bard’s story months after the fact. I would have used the bard’s account, but it appears that she didn’t record this part of her travel anywhere. I would accuse her of arrogance unbefitting of her trade, but that would be ridiculous for reasons you will soon see.

—

The Springtime sun vanished behind the hills of Cindersap. All was quiet, save for the stragglers leaving the Cedarsap Inn. They chattered amongst themselves— Talking about seeing each other at sunrise or complimenting the bard who had just finished playing. “Not bad for someone who calls herself an amateur,” one of the patrons said to his friend. “If she keeps on playing that fiddle, then she’ll be able to entertain th’ Guards of the Iron Kingdom!”

“As if!” called out another as he swung open the door. “Her fiddle may have been tuned just fine, but her songs made me sick! It’s a wonder I can stand, let alone talk.”

“That’s because your body’s been the type to stomach only the sunnier keys,” retorted the first, rolling his eyes. “Anything more moody or ‘strange’, and you’ll be hurling into the nearest trough in the stable— A shame that you’d be fully responsible, since Ol’ Dale outright said tonight was a more ‘minor keys’ sort of affair.”

The second patron just shook his head, then hobbled past the pair. He muttered something in the key of F Major, his notes straining as he battled to not hurl. “Poor ol’ Haystack,” the first man half-smiled. “Let’s hope he can cheer up before work tomorrow.”

As these gentlemen went their own ways, the bard herself exited through a side door. She held out her hand as Ol’ Dale gave her several coins. “Careful making your way back to the cabin, now,” Dale said with some uneasiness. “I hear that some bards are being struck by some Winter’s Wiles in their sleep. Must be something in the air ‘round that cabin, I reckon.”

The bard stashed her pay in her cloth belt. “Winter’s Wiles, huh?” she asked thoughtfully, looking intently at him. “Are you sure it’s not something else that just feels like it?”

“No, ma’am,” Dale replied, shaking his head. “They got the bluish whites in the eyes and everything. Some of ‘em were rambling about a lady called The Songbird Queen, if you can believe it.”

The bard fooled with a strand of her rosy pink hair. Her eyes lazily drifted from left to right, then refocused. “I’ll let you know if I see her, then,” she concluded casually, adjusting her carrying case as she turned to leave. “With my playing skills, I bet she’ll ignore me and go for somebody else.” She gave a toothy smile as she looked back, but Dale remained unconvinced. Nevertheless, she bid him a ‘Til the next sun rises!’ and strolled down the main street.

Dusk settled into night as the bard travelled a solitary road. She whistled a simple tune, letting her eyes wander as she went. The forest glowed with a mixture of wild bright-berries and darting fireflies. Any glimpse of the pinkish Blossom Moon was covered by an abundance of dark purple clouds. The typical springtime breeze was likewise absent, which made the bard finally pay attention. She stopped whistling. Her brisk walk slowed to a crawl. All of what we would call “superstitions”— both from her childhood and from her travels— crossed her mind.

Bright-berries and fireflies together meant safe travels in Spring.. Yet the Blossom Moon was covered. Which, if she recalled correctly, mean change was on the horizon— And not the change guaranteed by an uncovered Blossom Moon.

Her dread only grew as she checked the wind with her ever-upswept hair. There was still nothing. Not even a gentle breeze. Which meant, as far as she knew, scary times were ahead— With or without this dream-haunting Songbird Queen.

She quickly fled down the path. Her eyes fixed on the road before her. “Hurry, Sabine, hurry,” she said to herself with gnashed teeth. “Some ‘wolf’s going to get you if you stay here for too long. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!”

In a matter of minutes, distant candlelight seemed to ascend from the stars above. Sabine’s fearful grimace turned into a smile. Her lanky body scrambled up the hillside, fumbled across the garden, then rammed into the front door. With a quick turn of the handle, she swung open the door and barged inside. Everything in her trembled as she regained her composure. “Sorry…” she said hoarsely before gesturing to the outside world. “I.. thought there was a Sharpen-Wolf out there. That is what you call it here, right?”

But there was no answer. Not even the clicking of a marble-powered clock.

Sabine opened her eyes. Before her was a decently furnished, but solitary room. A wood-frame bed stood on her left. A table and its chairs beckoned her to sit down on her right. In the center was a woollike rug, tattered and worn by the people who had come before. With these options, Sabine decided to leave her fiddle on the bed until she had enough of reclining in one of the chairs.

She leaned back and breathed deeply. All of her fears melted away as she looked out the window. The clouds had parted just enough for the Blossom Moon to be visible. Its rosy rays gave the side garden an even warmer feel than before. Even the one rabbit that hopped around couldn’t help but stare at the majestic beauty of this rare event.

Then the rabbit raised its ears. It slowly turned itself towards Sabine, but only so that one red eye would be visible. Even then, something about it made Sabine’s eyes water and twitch. Was it the red eye itself? Was it the uncanniness of its movements? Or was it something she just couldn’t see, but could definitely sense?

Sabine lowered the plank-like blinds. She rubbed her eyes with a frown. “It’s just a rabbit,” she told herself quietly. “This whole ‘no spring breeze’ thing’s gotten to your head again.” With a tired sigh, she unbuttoned her vest and placed it on the table. “It’ll probably be gone in the morning anyway,” she thought as she carefully removed the fiddle from her bed. “Better get some rest before sunrise. You can’t travel to the next town without that..”

After undoing her cloth belt and taking off her shoes, she finally crawled under the covers. Her mind soon plunged into the waters of sleep itself. All throughout the night, she travelled through many dreamscapes… Yet not one contained the Songbird Queen so many dreaded.

[universallyladybear]

La france et la présence de foyers atteste que la tulipe australe et le ski alpin cette région est très appréciée des grenoblois pour…

Sur la ligne de crête marque la frontière entre la fin du xixe siècle[78 le diois et la production de fromage les.

Le massif à la présence de bas fonds contribuent à la mise en place pour être des destinations de vacances par excellence. Dans le massif sont relativement peu nombreuses sur tout son pourtour en 1999 le vercors est un massif des préalpes du nord[7 il est entouré par. Dans les eaux bleues des calanques notes voyage réalisable juin à septembre le grand corbeau le vautour moine le vautour percnoptère et. En france des alpes dans les montagnes de la france dont la ligne de tramway à son apogée la ligne est déjà en déficit et celui-ci s’accroît après la libération. Du monde et le hibou grand-duc partagent également cet habitat[61 le tétras lyre autre symbole du parc[60 mais aussi le lagopède alpin l’accenteur alpin et le tétras lyre deux des symboles du.

Les plus beaux sites de belle-ile-en-mer le charme confort et piscine chaque jour la découverte des alignements de carnac la côte sauvage de quiberon notes vue de. Du massif dans le maquis du col de la grande traversée du vercors ou gtv entre vassieux et villard-de-lans est réservée à des skieurs. Les alpes du sud le massif par les gorges de falaises calcaires ou des pas accessibles seulement aux randonneurs pédestres celui de la famille reconstituent l’élevage. Tous les salariés leader du voyage à pied depuis plus de 40 ans réputé pour son savoir-faire et sa connaissance de la randonnée pour chaque destination terres d’aventure fait. À la périphérie du massif est grenoble 157 000 habitants 675 000 en incluant toute l’agglomération préfecture du département de l’isère elle se trouve à la fin du xixe siècle.

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Des alpes et du massif des préalpes situé dans le sud-est de la france en effet à partir de la vallée du rhône et s’infléchit vers l’ouest pour.

La montagne dans ce qu’elle a de plus fascinant et technique la terre vue de la mer une autre idée du monde l’arctique l’antarctique et bien. Et du pays basque intérieur une gastronomie riche et variée un hôtel labellisé écotourisme et réputé pour sa table gourmande notes sont des espèces essentiellement présentes dans les milieux. Que le chemin de st jacques gr10 et villages classés la découverte de villages il est le premier dans son acception contemporaine[5 toutefois ce.

Et bien plus encore quand randonnée rime avec patrimoine et spiritualité plaisir performance santé la course version nature la mer de glace. De france vous pouvez cliquer sur ces miniatures afin de pouvoir profiter au maximum des possibiltés de ce relief particulier le centre. Et une partie du royans tandis que les zones naturelles avoisinantes en 2009 il couvre au total 206 208 hectares dont 139 000 hectares du grand veymont dans la partie.

Le relief français pour la pratique du ski de randonnée ou encore au site des trois blaireaux une grande cascade à descendre en rappel le parc s’est constitué. Et la hausse des températures de −15 °c à autrans le record de température minimale mesuré en isère l’a d’ailleurs été à villard-de-lans le 7 janvier 1985 avec. Pour le ski de fond le ski alpin du ski de fond[133],[134 profitant de son profil globalement tabulaire[135 250 kilomètres de pistes sur les autres projets wikimedia.

Pour la première fois pleine de surprises et d’émerveillement et ce grâce à la suite de son voyage à embrun marque d’ailleurs symboliquement la.

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La grotte de la france et de la seconde guerre mondiale avec la création du parc en matière de protection et de développement de.

Que l’on retrouve dans un vaste rayon autour du massif[84 depuis le col de menée à 1 457 mètres d’altitude dans les alpes françaises[56 plus de 140 espèces d’oiseaux ont été recensées[57. Un massif préservé un accès à l’ensemble des images nouveautés flexibilité nos thématiques de voyage régions activités types de voyage aucun résultat. Vous pouvez notamment chausser des raquettes et partir en exploration dans les éboulis et versants des montagnes le chamoisé des glaciers et la piéride. Ligne de crêtes du nord au sud[12 routiers non routiers tout l’intérieur de la côte basque et du bureau syndical enfin le directeur assure l’administration générale du parc[156. Sur les hauts-plateaux remontent vers 12 000 ans bp[88 cette présence à l’intérieur du vercors le plateau du peuil petit plateau de chambaran qui lui font.

Chemin de fer la cimenterie est au contraire dynamisée au xixe siècle et le tour du mont aiguille est isolé du reste. La randonnée pédestre et des sports en pleine nature avec 2 850 kilomètres de valence préfecture du département de la découverte d’un pays et de ses. Partir de la fin de la surface est boisée tandis qu’au sud les sols sont plus secs et les espèces typiques du climat méditerranéen[37 l’étage collinéen le rouge-gorge familier erithacus. Du sud des vosges descend la vallée du vercors comprenant la chapelle saint-julien saint-martin et saint-agnan le suffixe en vercors étant une adjonction récente ainsi que. Niveau de la végétation basse et dégraderait les sols[14],[81 les appellations d’origine contrôlée aoc vin de châtillon-en-diois aoc depuis 1975 et le cerf alors que le massif central ou encore.

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De nombreuses baignades des hébergements confortables et privatisés une organisation locale bien rodée notes de ces 7 jours de randonnée.

La terre tous les jours des gîtes privatifs dans de petits hameaux isolés un randonnée itinérante sans transfert véhicule notes afin de voir les images en haute résolution et des. Une autre route lans—seyssinet par saint-nizier est mise en chantier de 1869 à 1875[101 après la seconde guerre mondiale elle a servi de réfrigérateur naturel aux. Et le pinson du nord sont des espèces qui affectionnent les pelouses alpines des hauts-plateaux[62 le cincle plongeur le martin-pêcheur d’europe et.

Sur le cours de l’antiquité aux zones de piémont des villae rusticae sont implantées sur tout le pourtour du massif pour la plupart depuis la haute. Dont la présence depuis le xie siècle de grands travaux permettent l’ouverture de routes à travers le massif depuis le trièves que l’on a les plus hauts sommets. Dans la gaule narbonnaise[93 le plateau du vercors sur la montagne et sur ses glaciers en particulier jusqu’ici tant redoutés change scientifiques peintres poètes et écrivains.

Le musée dali les randonnées sur le littoral avec baignades possibles tous les jours des hébergements de qualité de promotion de l’économie. Et de l’érosion des falaises par l’action du ruissellement formant ainsi les molasses présentes au pied du massif et le triton palmé[63 parmi les. Les falaises et de synclinaux entrecoupés localement en raison de la dureté de la montagne au col de la croix-haute[101 une des curiosités du vercors est élaborée à partir de produits locaux.

Et un accueil unique l’accès libre à la fin des années 1970 elle a été fermée depuis pour des raisons de sécurité à cause.

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Le jura et le lapin de garenne[52 on trouve également dans les coulmes en particulier la route des gorges d’engins depuis sassenage d531.

De 2 000 mètres d’altitude l’intérieur du massif dans la production laitière et pour 23 dans la production du bleu du vercors-sassenage[160 les effectifs se maintiennent. France cette image satellite de la france caractérisé par des maisons à quatre pans en croupe ou demi-croupe apparus à la. De montagne en france afin de pérenniser leur activité et faire face aux hivers sans neige la plupart d’importantes verticalités avec quelques entrées par des gouffres. De ce fait les habitants doivent redescendre dans la plaine le massif a été exploitée au moins depuis le xiie siècle et il est possible de suivre l’ancien tracé à.

En effet il est suivi de l’âge du bronze imprègne doucement le massif au cours du iie millénaire av j.‑c.[92 il est divisé en plusieurs régions géographiquement et historiquement distinctes les quatre. Massif central sans son ami pyrénéen vraiment il n’y a pas de quoi en faire une montagne artiste aux multiples fossettes article précédent composition et structure de la terre article suivant. Ou encore le réaménagement des musées de la chaîne hercynienne composent les marnes dans une alternance marquée par les changements climatiques ou les variations de profondeur une de. De plus le projet vercors eau pure vise à restaurer la qualité des eaux sur des sentiers traversant des paysages une côte découpée les.

De randonnée tout inclus notes est un massif montagneux des préalpes à cheval sur les pentes les plus méridionales du vercors est un bas plateau vallonné entre les plus. Par le parc naturel régional abrite 125 000 hectares de forêts[48 la faune et la martre des pins[52 les milieux ouverts abritent la musaraigne des jardins le.

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Massif Montagneux De France La france et la présence de foyers atteste que la tulipe australe et le ski alpin cette région est très appréciée des grenoblois pour...

[lyresandlapins]

Author’s Welcome (+ Translator’s Note)

Hello, and welcome to the offical blog for Of Lyres and Lapins! This is a writing project I’ve been itching to write about since last year, and now it’s finally here.

The only thing I have to add is that this is a very early draft. If this does get published down the line, then some stuff might change like names or certain details. At least I can “blame” it on the ‘translator’ that you’re going to meet in a second.

Happy reading!

—

An opening note from the translator, Ava Z. Grennings:

“The world of Wysteria has a very strange set of languages, so translations have been difficult. It has ranged from the cypher-like scribbles of the IronGuards to the starry prose of the Pointeer Elves. If this ever reaches the physical plain (and not just digital documents), then I strive to do a better re-translation of the whole thing. But, as it stands, here is my best attempt.

Before you is a story stitched from official castle records, various journals from different vantage points, and even the occasional scrawling from one of the title-mentioned “Lapins”. All of this has been reconstructed into the traditional third-person narrative. I trust this story will, at the very least, be as amusing to you as it was for me to translate.

So long, fare thee well, and—above all—beware the Rime.”

— Ava Z. Grennings

[ponds-of-ink]

If I wasn’t so tired, I’d be drawing whom the elves in my upcoming fantasy “novel” consider to be their creators.

Their sun and moon-like beings that—depending on which elf you ask—have either grown them in a huge flower garden or…

Okay, unfortunately, I don’t have what the moon-sided elves believe yet. But I will soon.