#she has a riveted body hence her name

[1863-project]

Sometimes I question my autism diagnosis because my experience isn't entirely in line with those of other autistic people's and then I go to my job at the train museum and take one quick glance at a photo in a box of archival images and immediately and correctly identify a specific GG1 locomotive from the shape of the nose around the headlight

[rivertoasty]

Star Wars: Revelations Tech x Natelyte

Now Revised

This is the first sexual encounter between these two characters in a series I am writing based on the aftermath of TCW.

I revised this encounter because after re-reading it a few weeks later it did not capture the vision that I have for the start of their romantic relationship.  

WARNINGS: Rated MA +18, Explicit, NSFW, P in V sex, protected sex, during office hours, Auralism (sound kink), recorded encounter, feelings.  

5K Words.

Norslyr Translations

Sonval: Sun drop in Afrikaans

Sonskyn:  Sunshine in Afrikaans

Lokacinka: your turn – Hausa

taa ya nyota: starlight – Swahili

Zub da hasken rana a cikina: Pour your sun flares into me - Hausa

Haskaka ni da farin dodo: Spark me with a white dwarf (baby) – Hausa

Gee nog een uitbarsting my sonskyn:  Give one more eruption my sunshine – Afrikaans

Star Wars: Revelations: Tech x Natelyte

Tech turns on his helmet audio function to listen to Natelyte’s special recording.  The audio is Natelyte masturbating, moaning, and whining his name as she uses a high-powered vibrator on herself.  

“Tech...!”  She whimpers.  His eyes widen at the sound of her voice calling his name.  This recording was unexpected, it appeared in his room upon the Solar Scourge before leaving to complete a job.  Tech knew well enough to listen to the audio in private in case it was something meant just for him.  Nat’s voice breaks again as she nears release.  

Tech checks over his shoulder to confirm the door is locked and proceeds to remove his cod piece.  He takes it a step further and removes all his armor except his helmet, he lays out on his bed. He pulls up innocent images of Natelyte on his screen to look at as he strokes himself.  Tech isn’t one to take this kind of time to himself while on a job; but the crew are already on their way to return to Norsik.  He isn’t going to be needed anytime soon.  Tech let’s out a groan at the lack of fluid friction he could do to himself alone.  He grabs a sock from his bed side and slicks his cock with lube and proceeds to jerk himself with the sock around it.  The vibrator takes on more of the volume in the background of Nat’s whimpering.  Tech begins to visualize how she does it to herself, just from this audio clip alone he can deduce that Natelyte is more about clitoral stimulation than penetration.  

“Make you...cum on my piece...”.   He goes on babbling about all the dirty things he wants to do to Nat.  

“Nat...!”  He yelps at the violent ejaculation that glazes the inside of the sock.  Feeling himself need more of her to get his nerves right he continues listening to Nat.  Her voice breaking in high pitches that he has never heard her voice achieve before, at least not around him.  

“Tech.!  Oh, I miss you already.”  She coos, he can envision the devious smile on her lips.  Then she orgasms whining his name.  He sits up tossing the sock to the floor.  

“She’s so enthralling”. He sighs still thinking about Natelyte.  All the things he wants to do with her...and too her.  Thinking of the moans and whines she let out while calling his name, the actions she took to make this for him.  It all started so innocently, she is making it clear that she’s not teasing anymore, she wants Tech.  

Both of these geniuses make a schedule nearly every morning to let the others know when and where they will be throughout the day so if and when anyone needs their help, they can always find them based on the schedule.  When they put it together that they both do this type of time management technique they began to plan their days to intersect every now and then just to get some time to work together, take breaks that overlap with one another’s time. Then one day, Tech cleared his schedule and he sent just ‘Natelyte’ for the whole day, to not only her but to everyone in the crew.  When she saw this, she too just wiped the day away and plastered Tech’s name across the planner and they went out together for the day doing fun things instead of work.  Then this job came up a few weeks later and he had to go with the Scourgemen, she slipped this audio recording in his room before they departed.  Now he isn’t going to hold back what he wants to do with her.  Natelyte is a beautiful and intelligent woman, a rebellious danger, something he admires most about her.  The ship came out of hyperspace, Tech redresses and went out to the bridge.  The crew is eager to get back to the surface to see their perspective counter parts.  None of the women came along for this delivery job, it wasn’t out of disinterest, they just have much more pressing matters that require their presence to maintain at present.  Hunter walks out onto the bridge to oversee the dissent to the surface being performed by Wolffe.  He looks Tech up and down with a sly grin and a raised eyebrow, knowing full well that Tech is a horny little bastard right now.  Tech shrugs the look off, at least he is getting something from his girl.  

The crew land at the platform and Tech was off the ship and dashing towards Natelyte’s office building.  Assuming she would be walking from that direction, he turns a corner and there she is.  Her face brightens with a smile to see him alive and in one piece.  They briskly walk towards each other and embraced.  Their armors clad against each other couldn’t stop the feeling of the other’s warmth.  

“I listened to your message.”  He says with a soft smile.  

“Oh ja?  Did you enjoy it my sonval?”  She asks and leans into him with her breast plate more against his chest plate.  His hands move further down her back to hold her more closely.  

“I loved it so much that I want to participate with you my sonskyn.”  He rasps lowly in her ear and nibbles at her lobe, wasting no time as always.  Nat breaks away from him still grasping his hand to walk to her office together.  They continue to converse about the job he returned from and high lights of events happening on Norsik.  

Her office is open and organized, Nat closes the door behind her and activates the glass clouding feature so no one can see through the glass.  Tech steps forward and cups Natelyte’s face, their eyes transfix on each other searching for the next move.  Nat takes notice of Tech’s posture, now straightened and taller due to the posture correction patch Ottehok slapped between his shoulder blades to correct his hunching.  Their lips connect, her arms wrap around his neck, she introduces her tongue into the mix and Tech hums with delight.  Tech steps forward to press Nat to the glass wall and the kiss deepens, their heat begins to overtake their minds, instinct begins to override logic and focus.  

Heat swells like a roaring star.  

“Tech….”  Natelyte moans when their lip’s part for just a moment.  Her lust lidded hazel orbs focus on his wide brown irises shielded by his specs.  “We should move from the glass.  I heard someone enter the lab.  People can see our figures against the glass wall…”  She speaks with a reluctant smile.  She did not want to pause in the moment, but privacy is priority in regard to this encounter.  

He is a Voider after all.

“Ah well, to your nook then?”  He smirks and pushes his frames up his bridge.  He takes a few steps back to get distance from the glass.  The disinterested look in Natelyte’s eyes is quickly noticed by Tech.  He comes forward to take one of her hands to spin her around the space between them, so her bottom is pressed against a desk that was behind Tech.  “Or I should we continue right here?”  He queries in her ear with his crotch piece pressing against her apex.  

“Ja right here, sonval.”  She mewls as he nips at exposed flesh on her neck.  His hands come down to her thighs to lift her onto the desk.  Her hands push aside monitors and a keyboard to make room for their encounter on the desk’s surface.  Teck kicks away a swivel chair just a foot away from their coupling.  “I’ve always wanted to be taken in this office.”  She lets out as Tech sucks away at her neck leaving hickies carelessly across her supple flesh.  “To be railed by a man of your faculty.”  

“You give me too much credit my taa ya nyota.”  He smiles as his hands come down to unhook his utility harness and comm link.  Nat follows suit and begins to unclasp her armor plating.  They strip down to their under clothes and eagerly entangle once more to explore each other’s forms.  

Natelyte’s full feminine curves draw the attention of his hands immediately.  First her thighs to then fearlessly cupping her breasts.  Her hands roam over his upper body memorizing every muscle groove, feeling his solid frame tensing beneath her touch, she catches notice of his flushed complexion, how pink his ears get when he blushes, it’s adorable.  He is touch starved, ravenous for physical contact of any manner possible, his throbbing member sandwiched between both their thighs is evidence of his physical needs.  His unbashful expression to her acknowledgement of his arousal has him take a moment and clear his throat.  

“Ahem.  With your permission Natelyte, I would like to record our coitus?”  His query is collected and serious.  She knows damn well that Tech exhibits Auralism; where one is aroused by sound; not that just any sound arouses him of course, but just the sounds that he desires to hear when in need.  Hence why he has a habit of recording nearly everything; he does it for his own reasons, from safety to necessity for assignments, for proof or for study.  But of course anything remotely having to do with sex, you best bet it will grab his attention for a moment before he remembers his surroundings and task at hand.  Nat knows all too well he is not referring to just audio recording their encounter, he will be recording everything.  

“Ja, the more angles the better actually.”  She halts her movements across his body and reaches back behind herself to activate a monitor.  Tech’s eyes narrow in bewilderment before she speaks again.  “I can capture more than just the angle of your frames.”  She speaks in a low sultry tone that rivets in his ear canal sending shivers down his spine and goosebumps to rise across his body.  She opens an application that allows her to wake all of the surrounding monitors in the office, activating a recording feature.  The cameras all blink with a red light signaling the start of their first coitus session.  Tech stares in awe at Natelyte’s expanded reach into this kink, and his cock throbs with gratitude.  “Perspective on all sides…”  her tongue slips into an ear, her hands return to his body with a fiery intensity making Tech’s knees weak.  His fingers brush along his goggles to begin recording their steamy encounter, and for Tech to get to work on his sonskyn.   

“May we disrobe?”  Nat nods and lifts the hem of his shirt first; she wants to see what this Techno Master looks like underneath everything.  She is not disappointed.  Tech is sporting a healthy muscle tone, a cog and skull tattoo on a shoulder and left pectoral muscle, several others accented with blaster scars and a stunning set of abs that has Nat bite her bottom lip in arousing admiration of Tech’s physique.  Tech’s hands come back to Nat’s body, he lifts off her shirt and pulls down her pants, panties, and socks.  His darkened brown eyes scan across her chestnut skin, her red curls complement the flecks of green in her brown pools.  Navy blue and crimson red runes line across her body, markings of achievements and lessons she has mastered throughout her life.  Her body is a sculpted masterpiece, Tech is far from being a religious man, but he’d be dammed it he didn’t want to worship the ground that this woman walks upon.  

He worships her in a different manner.  

Tech lifts her left foot into his mouth, slipping her toes between his lips, his tongue sweeping between her toes.  Nat slips onto her elbows to watch Tech do his thing.  He sucks on her big toe and releases it with a pop.  

“That was really nice.”  Nat says with a pleasant smile.  

“Your clitoris looks much nicer…”  Tech purrs planting a kiss to her lips first to then trail down her body.  Kissing each dark nipple, her pierced naval, down to her darkly pigmented clitoris.  Spreading her opening with his thumbs he inspects her coloring; it becomes pinker towards the center, her skin is smooth and tender, with arousal dripping from her.  His hands glide along her thighs, his warm breath fans over her apex, he witnesses her opening contract, the slit rising and falling in a slow motion, his places a slow wet kiss to her button.  Nat’s head falls back, she lowers from her elbows, to lay flat on the desk, she props her legs wide on the desktop.  His hands come up to her torso, pinching and rolling her nipples with his skilled fingers, burring his face between her legs focusing all of his affections on her clitoris.  Slow and featherlight ministrations, spelling his name and number in her folds, drawing all the sinful noises from Nat.

“Aw jaaa…”  She drabbles on babbling words in Norslyr, pleading for Tech to go just a tad lighter when pressing onto her clit.  His hands freely graze along her body, memorizing her form, her curves, down to the last scar.  Heat begins to form in her core, quickly building from Tech’s touching.  She takes one of his hands and sucks on the fingers, drenching the digits with her saliva for her own benefit.  Tech knows exactly what she wants him to do now, and he does it when she releases his fingers.  He fills her opening with one finger with a few pumps for her to adjust, to measure her readiness, and then he adds the second and her moans grow louder.  With raised brows he looks over his shoulder to look at the door, but what does looking at the door solve?  So he reaches up and covers her mouth to hush her lewd noises from prying ears.  Natelyte giggles and sucks on his fingers again whilst hooking a leg over his shoulder to lock his mouth back onto her clit.  “No one can hear us.  Not behind this glass.  I promise...!”  She sucks in air through her teeth and lets out a choked cry, her hips buck against his face.  Nat stands to her feet with Tech plastered against her clit from below.  His brown orbs open wide to take in the sight of her standing over him, hands fisting his hair to pull him into her with more pressure as his mouth opens wide to swallow her pussy.  She pulls on his hair from side to side to have his mouth swipe her opening, his hands come to her ass to hold himself steady on his knees.  Then she gushes with slick from above and he gulps down every last drop like a parched man drinking from a spring.  

The light of the amber screens drapes her body in a golden light personifying her as the physical embodiment of solar radiance.  

Nat’s legs shake, Tech’s strong hands support her at her rump, he pants for air and rises to his feet to seal their lips together.  Tongues dance frantically as she takes in her own taste glistening across Tech’s face.  

“That was an exquisite view, Nat.”  

“Lokacinka.”  She says breathlessly and pushes him down into the swivel chair behind him.  Tech scans the monitors around the room, he rolls the chair pushing with his heels to the center of the room, so each screen has an angle on them both.  Nat smiles with his attention to detail, but now she wants all his focus again on her instead of the technology around them both.  

All.  On.  Her.

Nat crawls between his legs and rubs his clothed bulge straining to be set loose from its prison.  The heat radiating from his crotch is intoxicating, drawing her in, mouth pooling with saliva, with want.  “Take this off.”  She pats his thighs and Tech stands before her and peels off his blacks.  Tech catches this next moment on his lenses, Nat’s eyes wide with shock, and an ambitious smile spreads across her face taking in the sight of Tech’s massive cock.  The veins raised almost perceived as being angry, but Tech is far from any sort of antagonized emotion.  His cock twitches at the first sight of Nat’s tongue darting out to swipe across her lips.  She presses his thighs for him to sit back down in the chair

“Are you hungry my sweet?”  Tech rasps as his hands find purchase in Nat’s thick curls.  

“Ravenous.”  She sighs and wastes no time in drooling over his cock.  She pumps him a few times, feeling the girth, watching a bead of hot precum spill from the tip down the shaft to mix with her saliva to be smear by her chestnut hands along his tan meat.  Sweet soft sighs leave Tech’s chest.  She brings the hot tip to her plump lips and kisses it a few times.  Dragging her lips down the shaft, licking her way back to the tip, slipping it between her lips for her tongue to swirl around the head.  Tasting his early seed and the salt of his skin.  

“Please…”

“Hmm?”  She hums with a full mouth sending vibrations around his solid member making his toes curl at the sensation.  

“Please be sloppy.  Make it loud and messy ta ya nyota.”  His grip tightens in her hair.  Nat knows what he wants, how he wants it, and she will do it only for him.  Nat chuckles with him in her mouth and she slides down his shaft swallowing him whole.  

Natelyte can deep throat.

Tech’s eyes fixate on her motions.  Her head bobbing up and down to suck him from tip to base, nose pressing to his pubic bone, throat expanding and contracting around his cock.  She gags and coughs while still managing to keep him stuffed inside.  She slurps and sucks loudly, her tongue swirls around the head and base.  She has his tip hit the back of her throat; she opens her mouth wider to let the wet sloshing sounds of her throat to echo within the room and fill his ears.

And for the cameras to hear.

Tears fall from the corners of her eyes; Tech pulls her hair to have her face look up at him, snot drips from her nostrils.  He can feel her swallow, it causes her to cough, she pulls off him, so she does not bite him.  As she coughs Tech stands up and takes her hand to have her sit on the desktop again, he separates from her as she wipes her eyes and nose.  Tech reaches down to pick and open a condom from a pocket of his belt and rolls it on.  Natelyte watches him do this and the puzzled look on her face has him smile in slight embarrassment.  

“Is that the fabled con-dom I’ve been hearing about from you Voiders?”  She smiles bringing a hand down to his now covered member to feel the rubbery barrier for herself.

“It is not a fable if it is real, my sweet.”  He smiles whilst cupping her face and kissing her deeply to commend her erotic blowjob.  

“What is a con-dom?”  Her accent while speaking Arubesh made it hard to speak that unfamiliar word.  

“It is a thin latex polyurethane barrier that goes on a male’s member to capture the sperm.”  He smiles at her with a flushed expression.  Drunk with need.  Burning with desire.  Yearning for release.  

“Oh…will it...still feel the same or?”  

“Yes, yes it will still feel the same for you.  I will lose much of the sensation, but it is worth it.  I wouldn’t want to risk impregnating you, Natelyte.”  Their foreheads pressing together, staring into each other’s eyes with understanding and adoration.  

“I could take my own protection.  An after pill.  That way you don’t need to miss out…”  She says pumping his shielded cock, gathering the strange lubricant that covers the outside.  

Tech wants to, he wants to feel her from the inside, her hot moist walls clenching around his throbbing mass.  But he cannot.  He must do it this way, he cannot risk the possibility of spreading his genes among the Norsik population, not even if it is with Natelyte.  

He just can’t.  

Nat sees his internal confliction, then his resolve as he clenches his jaw and lines himself up with her entrance.  Pumping himself and coating his cock with her juices.  “I want to, but I cannot.”  He says and cuts off any more of her pleas as he plunges inside her warm depths.  A loud moan escapes her chest as Tech thrusts inside her a few more times to sheath his piece within her, coating every last inch he has to give with her slick.  Then he holds himself still to look upon Nat, to see her already ruined around him.  Her legs wrap around his waist, her arms tighten around his shoulders, head buried in the crook of his neck groaning from the stretching pleasure of his cock.  

“You feel so good sonskyn.”  He purrs in her ear and begins moving a fast pace.  Every time he bottoms out inside her a beautiful gasp leaves her chest.  The sting of her nails digging into his broad shoulders fuels his need to fuck her harder.  Demanding that he fuck her hard as to wash away her previous thought of the barrier affecting her end of the pleasure between them.  His pleasure is surely dulled, but he uses that dullness as an advantage to last longer.  To fuck her for all that she is worth here and now.

Nat’s heels dig into his lower back, her breathing is ragged, she peels an arm from around his shoulder to vigorously rub her clit.  Tech growls at this action and replaces her hand with his own thumb.  She mewls at the harshness of his touch, she lays flat against the table, her breasts bounce in rhythm of his thrusts.  The monitors all shifting from the weight of his pounding, moving their angles around without touching them, it’s maddening.  

“Don’t stop!”  She cries out as her legs begin to tense around him.  Her hands come down to grasp his forearms to anchor herself to him.  Tech leans back with their arms locked together to press as deep as he can reach within her.  And she cums with a mighty cry as a wave of the most intense internal orgasm crashes within her.  Tech fucks her through it, unable to yield to his better judgement to slow down or cease his movements to allow her to settle once more.  He presses on, heeding her command, doing what she says, what she wants, he’ll do anything, everything for Natelyte’s pleasure.  

She deserves the stars.

Nat’s legs go limp around his waist, his arms release hers and return to the underside of her thighs to keep her legs at his sides.  Her eyes return from the back of her skull and come to refocus on the man fucking her into oblivion.  The aftershocks of electricity brought on by his unyielding movements makes her back arch and body jolt.  She whines his name and praises, how perfect he is, what he does to her, and how he keeps fucking her with a pleasant ferocity.  Her body returns to be flush against him, her hands combing through his hair, licking his neck, biting along his structures, marking him in the same careless manner he had done to her in the beginning.  He lets out sweet moans and sighs at her efforts.  Then Nat pulls herself close to his ear and speaks in a complete wrecked manner that has him obey every next word.  

“Sit in the chair and let me ride you like a wild Scorp.”  

Tech pulls from her and finds his place in the swivel chair quickly to be mounted by Natelyte’s thick thighs.  Her body is so soft and supple, covered in a sheen of sweat that has her glowing in the amber light of the screens.  She lines herself up and sinks down on him quickly to regain the fullness that he fulfills within her.  Tech can feel her entire body working on top of him, all of her weight, her skin, her scent, her muscles.  

“Da rana!  Zub da hasken rana a cikina!  Haskaka ni da farin dodo!”  Nat shouts like a battle cry.  Her movements are rocking the chair, making it squeak with every harsh landing of her hips against his.  The chair begins to feel as though it may break from their use of it.  Tech hopes that it does, all for that camera value.  How hard she can fuck him in return.   Her walls clench around him, her nails dig deeply into his shoulders to then release him and run her hands through her hair.  She leans back to give Tech a full view of the goddess riding him as she takes another orgasm for herself.

“Cum my darling.  Cum all over my cock again.  Take it all for yourself!”  he babbles.  His hands gripping her sides to support her as her bounces begin to become uneven and ill timed.  The tight coil within her snaps and her walls quiver around his shielded cock again.  This time she stops to take it all in, lifting her feet from the ground to have all her weight fully bare down on Tech which he handles with ease.  She sobs into his neck, holding her he stands with her in his grasp to lay on the floor, this will be his last bout, he is nearing his own limit now and wants to ejaculate while drowning in her hazel pools.  In missionary he begins to move slowly, pumping in and out from tip to base, scooping her out with his cock.  Her back arches from the tender aftershocks that sweep across her nerves, which he attempts to drown out with sweet kisses.  

Tech removes his goggles for this last bout, placing them near their heads to continue filming, but he wants to see her face to face.  

Nat is moved by this action, a clammy hand comes to cup his face, fingers tracing along his temple without the interruption of his goggles.  He is handsome.  Her hands come to wrap around his back, a hand grazes over the posture patch between his sharp shoulder blades.  His sweat drips down onto her which she revels in; the fact of knowing how hard Tech works in all aspects of his character in everything he does, it is admirable.  He plants kisses to her forehead and cheeks, nibbles at her neck as his chest falls to rest upon hers.  Natelyte takes a moment to acknowledge how Tech’s frame can easily cage her in beneath him, his heat enveloping her body, his sweat claiming very square inch of her body, as his cock lays claim to her internally.  Tech can feel her depths, no longer limited to physicality, but intellectually, emotionally…he can see it all in her eyes.  How much he means to her, the mark he has left on her brain, her heart, and now all over her body.  

“Gee nog…een uitbarsting my sonskyn…”  He speaks with a heeding tone to what is coming soon.  Nat reaches down to rub her clit, hearing the sounds of their wet skins squelching drives Tech up a wall.  Her moaning increases with pitch, her breathing quickening as she cums again on his cock.  

“Jaaaaa!  Ja! Ja-ah-aah!”  He fucks her again through another deeply felt orgasm which spurs him finally into his own.  

“Ah, yes!  Oh yes!  Karking hell!”  He shouts into the air with quick deep jabs into Nat’s core.  Pouring his unfelt seed inside of Natelyte, a Norse Valkyrie.  As they cum together, they kiss.  

They lay in heaving silence for a few moments before Tech pulls from her and rolls the condom off.  He reaches out for her canteen that had been knocked to the floor from off the desktop earlier and takes a sip for himself then relinquishing the rest of its contents to Natelyte.  She takes a few savoring gulps and hands it back to Tech.  They sit up together and lean against the desk for support.  

“That was awakening.”  Nat chuckles breathlessly looking to Tech for affirmation.  

“I agree.  I wonder how the recording is going to turn out.”  He says dryly and glances down at Nat with a teasing smile.  

“Oh I promise you it will turn out grate after I’m through with it.”

“Just you?  I assumed we would both work on it together…”  His voice cracks from parched vocal cords.  

“I think that is the first time you included someone in your assumption Tech.”  She looks him in the eyes with surprise.  He stares back at her; filtering through his stored memories like a data bank to find any other instance he had done this.   Assuming people already knew what was going to happen but did not know anything until he explained it aloud.  For once he hopes that this assumption would be correct.  Natelyte caresses his cheek fondly and places a chaste kiss to his lips to break his filtering.  “Of course we will work on it together, sonval.”  

[exciting]

As requested, books / series I read in 2020 in the order I read them, with a few brief thoughts. (This took me a hot second because there are a few and also I moved cities) Should I keep a consistent goodreads? Yes I should but I didn’t think of that at the time, so bone apple teeth & sorry if I offend you abt your faves x

P.S. I can’t figure out how to do a read more on mobile so long post ahead!

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas - This is one of the most vivid published fantasy books I have ever read... I read it twice in rapid succession. The fandom POPS off. I must say I have issues with certain aspects e.g. fae lore completely ignored à la Twilight, all love interests 500+ years old and technically a different species, etc (I’m not going to deconstruct the entire series here but just know that I could... Nesta deserves better)

Cruel Prince by Holly Black - This fucking slaps, HB clearly has done her research, the lore is near immaculate, and it explores the Fae in such a unique way, tying it to the modern world subtly and seamlessly. My only qualm was that the books felt quite short; truly wish there had been more content.

Throne of Glass by Sarah J Maas (6/7) - So basically I read this in one single, hyperfixated fit which meant I literally locked myself in my room for three days straight and read all six books back to back in a row from morning to the wee hours. Which is not to say it was spectacular; although it was a VERY rich world, sometimes it was too much... this felt like 6 stories in one. Ik she was young when she wrote this but it is my humble opinion that SJM needs a better editor & I personally think Rowan is a grade A asshole / straight up abusive (& personally think the ACOTAR Tamlin plot was born from that?). It’s good but not as good as ACOTAR. Skip-read the last book. 

Grishaverse (Shadow and Bone) by Leigh Bardugo (3) - This is essential to read before SOC but was very much simply a YA fantasy book, although the world was cool and the way the love plot played out was, imo, a subtle middle finger to the fantasy trope. Felt very much aimed at younger readers though? Really liked the sandwhich structure of the Proluge and Epilogue, especially in #2

Six of Crows series by Leigh Bardugo (2) - INCREDIBLE continuation of Grishaverse, better than the original series by a mile. It has the range, the diversity, the representation (the male lead is a disabled asexual and still the most cunning of the entire cast of characters), the plot is phenomenal, and it manages such a well rounded plot in only two books which means nothing is stretched out or squeezed in more than need be. Deserves all the praise it gets.

King of Scars series by Leigh Bardugo (0.5/1) - Personally I don’t consider this book canon, and while it’s nice to see the rest of Nina’s journey & the world again & everyone else, I don't like it. I will, however, be reading book 2 when it comes out, so shame on me, I suppose.

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (1/1) - this was incredibly cool although it went off in a completely different direction than I thought it would based off the first few chapters? One of my favourite YA-author-debuts-New-Adult novels in 2020 though!

Crescent City by Sarah J Maas (1/1) - This was supposed to be SJM/s New Adult debut, although personally I would put her other series in New Adult, and I can’t say a remarkable amount was different with this except they said “fuck” and “ass” a lot. WHY is the romantic interest 500 years old AGAIN. I just... don’t... I just don’t think it was necessary... the world was cool though, and the last half of the book was riveting, but the beginning was quite slow and I thought the sword thing was predictable. I am interested to see where this goes though.

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab (3) - This world is so fucking cool... four Londons aka parallel universes & the one in ‘our’ world is set in industrial era London. Magic, girls dressing up as boys, thieves, pirates, royalty... it all just slaps. Schwab is an incredible writer & I was completely immersed.

Midnight Sun by SMeyer - I didn’t think anything could possibly detract even further from the Twilight story but I was sorely mistaken... seeing the stalking from Edward’s POV - and it was worse than depicted in Twilight, for the record - completely obliterated any sort of romance the first half of the original book may have portrayed. I still hold the opinion that the entire series would have been better if some kind of vampire lore had been abided by, if only to see all of the villains thwarted by someone dropping a bag of rice on the ground, forcing them to have to count them all.

An ember in the Ash by Sabaa Tahir  (3/4) - This was just a very stereotypical ya fantasy series, emphasis on the YOUNG... it wasn’t anything to write home about but I remember quite enjoying it at the time. 

The Power by Naomi Alderman - This book is FUCKING incredible and EXCEPTIONALLY thought provoking... essentially women alone develop a power of electric shock etc. and then take over the world from men, and it explores feminism and the balance between equality & tipping the scales in the other direction. Written by a friend of M.Atwood in a similar tone to handmaids tale, I would say? Content warning; there are some exceptionally graphic scenes in the latter half of the novel. 

Hamlet by Wllm Shksp - I can’t believe it took me this long to finally read it but Ophelia is my favourite name in the entire world & we love to see a woman go batshit (although she didn’t deserve that). 

Catherine House by Elisabeth Thomas - this was unsettling in the best sense of the word... it was a little slow & honestly more of a concept than a big reveal, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it after I finished it? A Secret History vibes but make it blurry like the memory of all those dystopian novels you read when you were young?

The Invisible Life of Addie La Rue by V.E. Schwab - This is without a doubt my book of the year, and probably the best book I read in 2020? I stayed up all night on a friend’s couch reading it, got a book hangover and reread the ending, and then thrust it upon my mother who doesn’t usually read but read this, and loved it just as much. HIGHLY recommend and you HAVE to read it, it’s beautiful and endearing and just plain wonderful.

Captive Prince by C.S. Pacat (3/3) - I went into this knowing it was going to be terrible, because I had received a blow by blow telling me as much; although I must say that it did learn a remarkable amount of new words, the books did get better as the series went on, and it did have a rather charming ending? BIG content warning for almost everything.

Sapiens by Yuval Harari - mind-expanding & must recommend for everyone, there is everything in this and I daresay everyone should posses this kind of knowledge? I listened to it as an audiobook (which I recommend because it’s rather hearty) but will be buying this in hardcopy & rereading it with annotations. 

Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller - Without a doubt, one of the most beautiful novels I have ever read, and certainly the most beautiful portrayal of the story of Achilles and the battle of Troy I have ever seen. Patroclus deserved the justice that was given to him in this book; indeed, all of the characters were written with justice and grace. Highly recommend.

Trials of Apollo by Rick Riordan (3/5) - Apollo is my favourite Greek God, and the sexiest greek god, and Rick Riordan’s writing slaps, as always. It did pain me to see Apollo, the sexy immortal, have to be forced back into a 16 year old’s body but everything else? Whimsical & wonderful, as expected. 

These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong - a retelling of Romeo and Juliette, except it’s set in Shanghai in the 1920′s, and the protagonists already have a history. Very well done, characters are incredibly diverse in race, sexual orientation, gender, and ability / disability (and honestly, representation has never appeared so effortless and elegant). Also it includes a monster and possible magic. Incredibly underrated and highly recommend.

The Once and Future Witches by Alix. E Harrow - this was such a unique concept, and truly captivating, the story was charming, and felt like the kind of beautiful fairytale you would read as children but with more grit? ABSOLUTELY recommend this one

The Pisces by Melissa Broder - I hated this so much, not my vibe at all. Mermaid smut x therapy but make it cynical and judgemental (I know there was a moral in there but that’s not my point) also the dog dies.

Library of the Unwritten by A.J. Hackwith (1/2) - really interesting & unique concept (all unwritten novels / ideas reside in a special library that is part of Hell and then sometimes the books can come to life) however, my first thought upon reading this was “this reads as if it’s stemmed from one of those writing prompt tumblr posts” bc of the tone and whatever and as it turns out I was somewhat correct, it did stem from a short story (not bad just obvious). It did kind of settle down as it went on but I found reading it kind of a drag, and I don’t think I will read the second one.

Abandon by Meg Cabot - 1. Meg Cabot’s writing always fucking slaps 2. Hades and Persephone but make it modern & very 2000′s & somehow kind of unique 3. I literally loved this, sue me

Medusa Girls (Sweet Venom) by Tera Childs - Like Percy Jackson except they are descendants of Medusa so they are Gorgons and have fangs & venom (hence the title). Gave me very 2000′s vibes? Quite cool but tbh I found the books quite short (like two hours each, if that)? Do NOT read the GoodReads description of the book before you read it, you will spoil it for yourself.

Bring me their Hearts by Sara Wolf - In my opinion, this is one of the most underrated YA series I read in 2020. The heroine is endearing, self aware, witty, and loves to look pretty even while kicking ass which in my opinion is an incredibly underrated trait. Also, immortality without being hundreds of years old? VERY sexy. HIGHLY recommend. 

A Deal with the Elf King by Elise Kova - High commendation to be given for the fact that it is a standalone and yet manages to fit in the plot of what would usually be a full fantasy trilogy without cutting corners or being a million miles long? Also sweet storyline & beautiful ending? If you liked ACOTAR you should read this as a “what would have / could have been had SJM had a different editor” (No shade I promise).

The Iron Fae by Julie Kagawa (4/4 + novellas) - Incredibly detailed faerie set around the modern world & our current use of technology & iron in it. Very neat adventure-style series, by the time I read the last novella I was well and truly done with the world (aka provided enough content to be fulfilling). Was definitely aimed at a younger audience though, NO smut / smut was brushed over.

The Modern Faerie Tales by Holly Black (3/3 SS) - This is technically the prequel to Cruel prince, set in the modern world, but with the fae world inside it as it traditional? All I have to say is that it is excellent & I highly recommend it.

Bridgerton series (The Duke and I) by Julia Quinn (9/9) - I read this after watching the Netflix show twice through and I am obsessed, although the books were not quite as elegant as the show, and some parts that made me cringe either by their portrayal (it is very firmly set in the 19th century and thus some things are not handled with tact or grace), the characters were exceptionally loveable and I am so excited to see where the show takes them! Lovely language & an abundance of words I had never seen before (always a plus). 

[khoicesbyk]

The Good Captain

Ch. 4: The Plan pt. 2

A/N: This is my version of book 2 of Distant Shores should be like. Y’know the book 2 that we readers of Distant Shores rightfully deserved! One more thing: in this fanfic, the MC’s last name has been changed to Bennett but; in the game it’s Carter. I decided to change it from Carter to Bennett; because Bennett sounds better to me. Also; her original occupation has been changed as well.

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Characters: Edward Mortemer (LI) and Kyra Bennett (MC) | All Characters: names (except MC) are property of Pixelberry. | Current Word Count: 2,935 words.

With Chapter 4 being so long. I decided to break it down into two parts. Here’s part two! Now if pregnant women having sex makes you squeamish: DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!

After reuniting with Edward and the crew; they were on their way back to Tiburon. After hearing what damage Robert and his crew had done; Kyra had to see it for herself. She knew he was hellbent on retrieving the key fragments; but at no point did she think he’d actually try to kill the crew. But before they could defeat him; they needed to come up with clear plan to do so.

Splayed in front of her, Edward and the crew were pictures of Robert’s crew members.

“Alright everyone! You must listen closely! Because in order to defeat our very common enemy; we have to be able to take out his crew. They are his most powerful weapon. Now; his crew; more specifically the men of his crew are nothing but brutes. They’re easy to beat. It’s the women of the crew that the most dangerous.”, she explained to them. Everyone was riveted to her tale.

“These four act like a witches coven. Each woman wears a necklace with a jewel in it. One is a diamond, one is a ruby, one is an emerald and one is a blue sapphire. Each one of those jewels, possesses GREAT power. Mari wears the emerald. Which gives her the sight to see into the future and the past. Tabitha wears the ruby. It gives her the power to control weather; hence the lightning strike that hit the tavern. Beatrice wears the sapphire. She has the power to control the shadows; which is how they’ve been able to get in, destroy and get out unseen. And then there’s his dear Callie. She wears the diamond. The diamond gives her the power to raise the dead; should she choose to. So; if we want to beat him; we need to get ours hands on those necklaces.”

“Love; it’s good to have you back! We’ll defeat the bastard yet!”, Charlie said as she wrapped Kyra in a hug. “It’s good to be back, Charlie! Now we have a plan in place. I have more research to do but so far; I like where we’re going with this.”, she said as she hugged her back. She was happy to be back with the crew that became her family. After the crew was given orders by their captain; Kyra was left with a very curious Ginny.

“The babe is in there?”, she asked; pointing to Kyra’s belly. “Yes Ginny girl. He’s in my belly.”, she replies to her. “How does it eat?”, she asked. “The baby eats whenever I do.”, she replies to Ginny. Soon Kyra; found herself trying to answer her many rapid fire questions about the baby. She loved that Ginny wanted to learn. After a while Kyra got an idea to make Ginny’s day. “Ginny, can I see your hand? I promise you’ll like it.”, she asked the sweet girl.

When Ginny gave Kyra her little hand; she placed it on her stomach and the baby kicked. Ginny’s little face lit up! “Did you feel it? Did you feel the baby kick?”, Kyra asked her. “Yes I did!”, she squealed. She hugged Kyra tightly; before being called to tend to the cannons by Jonas. That special little one has always warmed her heart.

An after diving back into her research; she was joined by Edward. When she looked up; she winked at him. “How are you doing, my love?”, he asked her. “I’m doing fine. I found out something interesting about the old legend.”, she told him.

“What have you, learned?”, he asked her.

“Look here at this scroll here; it says that in order to use the trident one must be of pure heart. But; Robert and his crew are everything but pure of heart. So, I’m wondering how he’ll use it.”, she told him.

“I’m not sure either; but we will find out The sun will setting soon. We’ll be in Tiburon by morning. In the meantime; you should eat. You look famished. Come! Let’s get you something to eat.”, he told her. As she started to stand up; she nearly lost her balance. Thankfully he was right there to catch her.

“Are you alright love?”, he asks as he helped her regain her balance.

“Yes I’m fine. I just got a little dizzy is all. Apparently pregnancy and pirate ships don’t mix.”, she told him. He had a look of concern on his face; that quickly faded when she smiled at him. “I don’t want you to worry about me, Edward. I need you to be focused and at the ready.”, she told him. “I am love. I am ready to bring my wrath down on our enemies! I am ready to defend by cutlass, cannonade and all other remorseless pieces of metal; if I must. I am ready to protect you, our child and this crew with my life!”, he told her.

She saw the passion and fire in his eyes. He was indeed ready. “I know you are, Edward. That’s what makes you a great captain.”, she told him. “Can you walk, my love?”, he asks her.

“Yes I can walk. I guess I’m more tired than I thought. I’ve been so focused on our little one, wanting to keep you and the crew safe and definitely wanting that bastard to pay for the trouble he’s caused; that it may be starting to effect me a little.”, she admitted to him.

She wasn’t trying to worry him; but she knew that he was. “I trust you and your judgement my love; I just don’t want you to do too much. It’s does no good for you or our son.”, he told her. She leaned into his strong arms around her. He was her safe place.

As the sun began to set; Edward got an idea. “Come with me? We should go watch the sun set.”, he told her. When they walked out on deck; he took her to the railing. It was just like in their vision. Peaceful, calm and all she could’ve ever wanted. It gave her purpose. It gave her drive. This is what she’s fighting for. The future. Her future. One with Edward, their son and the crew.

Once the sun set was over; he turned to her and said, “let’s get you something to eat.”

She grimaced and said, “I don’t think the baby is gonna like it. Then again; I’m not so sure that I’m gonna like it.” Edward just chuckled as they went to join the crew for dinner.

Later that night; it was her and Edward alone in his cabin. “I’m actually impressed. That wasn’t the worst meal that Henry has ever made.”, she said to him.

“Aye. His cooking has slightly improved over the last month; thanks to Miss Dorothea.”, he replies as he sets his sword and gun down on his desk. He then went to study the map of The Seven Lords while she sits on his bed. As she sat there; she realized it was the first time she got to really look at him. And what she saw was a truly strong and gorgeous man. And after a few minutes of studying the map; he noticed her looking.

“You’re staring, love”, he told her over his shoulder. “No. I’m admiring. There’s a difference. Thank you!”, she emphatically replies.

He turns to her with an eyebrow cocked and asks, “dare I ask what it is you’re ‘admiring’? As you put it.” She rolls her eyes at him and says, “I’m admiring you! Duh!”

He just shakes his head with a smirk. “What makes you think I want you to admire me?”, he asks her. “Because; you love that I love to look at you, that’s why. You love that I love to see this side of you. It’s commanding. It’s endearing. It’s focused. And it makes you irresistibly sexy.”, she told him. “Is that another one of your modern words, love?, he asked her. “Yes, yes it is. And I promise it’s a compliment. Think of it as another way for me; to unabashedly call you ruggedly handsome.”, she told him.

“Is it now? Hmmmm…”, he trailed off.

He cocked his head to one side with a devilish grin on his lips. It made her thankful that she was sitting down.

“What is it Edward?”, she asks him; as he helped her to her feet.

“Stand still love. Don’t move.”, he instructed her as he walked behind her.

She swallowed hard as the anticipation got the best of her. She felt his arms come around her and hold her tightly; with her back flush with his chest. Goosebumps rose on her skin and chills ran down her spine; as he whispered to her in low, husky voice, “‘Tis hard to admire something you can’t see, love. So instead of seeing; I want you to close your eyes and do nothing but feel.”

Before she could say another word; he brought her lips to his for an unrestrained and passionate kiss. While kissing on her neck; his hands and fingers roamed her body. He wanted to touch her. Especially her stomach.

He needed to feel her writhe in his arms. But he wanted this to be methodically slow. That’s when he stopped touching her body and kissing her neck. Leaving her aching for more. All she could hear was the sound of his boots on the wood floor. She struggled to keep her eyes closed. She wanted to see him. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to taste him. She could feel his presence around her; but she couldn’t see him.

That’s when she felt one of his fingers; go across her right shoulder. It made her inhale sharply then; bite down harder on her bottom lip. He just circled her; letting his fingers occasionally graze her skin. He was driving her crazy. Just the way he liked it.

“Edward…”, she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. He never answered.

He took pity on her; by putting a hand on the belly and his lips on her neck. He wanted to devour her. “Your garments are beautiful my love but; they’re in my way.”, he told her as he helped her out of her clothes. “Edward…can I please open my eyes, now? I need to see you.”, she asked; desperate to look at him. With a chuckle; he said to her, “Aye my love. You can open your eyes.”

When she opened her eyes; there he stood in all his bare naked glory. Kyra was floored. He was beautiful! Both in clothes and especially out of them. “Are you still admiring love?”, he asked with an eyebrow raised. “Have I ever mentioned how sexy you are?”, she asked him; finally able to shake herself of her initial shock. “Aye. You have. In many ways in fact.”, he said as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. He was careful and gentle with her; when he laid her down on his bed. He didn’t want to hurt her. After all; she is carrying his child. Once he laid her down; he sat at the edge of the bed running his left knuckles gently up and down her right thigh.

He was madly in love with her; all of her. Her strength. Her bravery. Her stubbornness. Her beauty. Her body. Her determination. He wanted to be selfish and keep her all to himself. He wanted to ravage her. He wanted to take her. He was hypnotized by her.

But; she’s pregnant with his baby boy. So he decided to go slow. He’s intent on savoring both her and the moment. He leaned down and whispered in her ear and said, “You are simply marvelous; my love. The last time you and I shared a bed; I could not get enough of you. And now, that we share a bed again; I intend on making every minute that I have you count.”

She took a deep breath and with a smirk said to him, “Edward…do your worst!” He cocked an eyebrow and replied, “you dare to challenge your captain?” “Aye! I challenge the father of my child, the man of my every dream, the love of my life, my present and future. I challenge the man who just happens to be my captain.”, she says with a wink. He brought her mouth to his for a kiss so powerful; it made her dizzy. He was obsessed with her. Her taste. Her smell. Her touch. Kissing her was a luxury he was going to take full advantage of.

His placed featherlight kisses down her neck to her chest. It was enough to make her shiver. When he got to where he was in between her breasts; she nearly jumped off the bed.

Being pregnant had made her breasts tender and her nipples sore. And having his mouth and fingers tease, taste and torture them was a new kind of pleasure. “Ohhhhhhhh God! Yes!”, she moaned. “That feels good, yes?”, he asked her. “Yes Edward! More than you will ever know!”, she replied in a shaky voice. He seemed to have marked that; as a note in his mind before he continued on.

From her diaphragm on down; he did nothing but kiss all over. He had seen her naked before but; never like this. Somehow pregnancy had made her even more beautiful to him than before. “Being a mother suits you, my love.”, he whispered to her. “Being a father suits you, my captain”, she replied smiling softly. His gently kissed along her belly; while sliding his hands up to her breasts.

Feeling his fingers graze her aching nipples made her shudder and sent heat running through her. “Are you trying to kill me?!”, she asked while giggling. He never said a word; he just flashed a devilish grin. When he got to the junction between her thighs he stopped; looking at her with a question in his eyes. With an encouraging smile she told him, “go ahead Edward, you can’t hurt the baby. I promise.”

With a nod and a gentle smile; he soon found himself at the end of his bed; between her legs. “I have been dying to taste you on my tongue again.”, he told her; before he focused on kissing her trembling thighs. Hearing her moans were like the song of The Sirens to him.

Kissing and grazing the inside of her thighs with his teeth; was like a very slow torture. His mouth was everywhere but where she wanted him to be. “Edward! I…need…you…”, she moaned. “I do believe you said for me to do my worst, my love.”, he told her before going back to her thighs. She whimpered and writhed underneath him as he continued. This is what he wanted. She was at his mercy.

With a growl he went for it; causing her to cry out. She arched her back and grabbed onto the sheets; as she tried to hang on. He was relentless. Her legs trembled as he continued to taste her. “Yesssssssssss! Yesssssssssss! Yesssssssssss! Edward don’t you dare stop!”, she shrieked.

With her body being sensitive; every time he used his tongue on her aching clit, it sent electric tingles coursing through her. He sent her internal heat and her orgasm rising higher and higher. She eventually gave into the intense pleasure as her orgasm crested and her vision blurred.

As she came down from her high he joined her on the bed. “Tell me what it is you want, my love”, he whispered to her. “I want you Edward! All of you! Take me! Right here! Right now!”, she told him with desperation in her voice. “With pleasure, love!”, he replied.

Wasting no time at all; Edward did EXACTLY what she begged him to do. He took her right then and there. He was intense and hungry for her. She was in heaven. He gave her all that he had to give. “That feels so damn good! Ohhhh! Yesssssssssss! Edward! So good!”, she moaned. “That’s it love. Moan for me! Scream…for…me!”, he growled in her ear. He was doing it. He was pushing her closer to the ledge with every surge. Soon; it all became too much as the pressure and pleasure broke her and her orgasm.

“YESSSSSSSSSSS! OHHHHHHHH GOD! YESSSSSSSSSSS!”, she screamed as she clutched at his back; shredding it with her nails. All it took was three intense pumps inside of her and he was done. “You belong to me, my love and I to you!”, he replied as he came down from his own orgasm.

He wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close to his chest. He spoke softly to her and asked, “are you alright, love?” She nodded her head yes. “Did I hurt you?”, he asked her. She shook her head no. “One last question: were you satisfied, love?”, he asked. “I’ll say.”, she purred. “Good. I’d be a fool to let you be in my bed unsatisfied.”, he whispered to her as he placed a light kiss on her forehead.

He was warmth and comfort to her. He‘s a warrior who doted over her every need. “Edward…there’s something I need to tell you.”, she said to him. “What is it love?”, he asked. As she snuggled against him; she said softly, “I love you.” His arms tightened around her as he replied, “I love you too. Let us rest, my love. We’ll be in Tiburon before dawn.”

With those words; they were both fast asleep.

Tag list: @txemrn @lucy-268 @choicesficwriterscreations

[intheemyart]

Expect The Unexpected

Jakarta has been nice towards her for the past days and Frederica felt like life has been treating her how it should be after the long and rough journey that she faced for some months already. Who thought that life would bring her to the most unexpected part of life? That her love ends here and her marriage fell apart from things she never thought before? Never once she thought that it all would ended up this way.

Hiding from the public yet again just like how she did it in the past during those time when the media caught her being engaged to the man she could say now as her past. The first was hard but now, she could adapt more easily with the situation. She decided to visit a cafe nearby her home in Acacia Residence just to freshen her mind.

Nevertheless, she won't hide much longer and stucked in the fear of being hunted down by everyone. She deserves her life back as an individual human being.

The cafe was located in Tebet too, the same neighborhood she's currently in. Frederica came by recommendation and as well to meet a friend she knew from a mutual. It was nice to have someone to talk to despite of the situation that might look a little bit invasive.

"Thank you," she said to a waitress holding a menu book that she just returned. Ordering her food first as now she's with the twins and it would be very hard for her to eat later if they woke up, while waiting for her friend.

──────────

Aria witnessed many people's ups and downs.

What a thrilling sight for the lass who barely had an exciting life. Albeit, It was a boring one, she believed it was for the best of her and Pelita. Realising how media could be monstrous, it was better to hide than to reveal herself.

As she would never know what has been waiting for her behind and whether she would be capable of handling it well, or in the worst case, she would have a breakdown?

Aria and her boring life, much different than her twin who led a company, she had much spare time, a little tea time or coffee would not harm her, so a yes for the offer of a light outing was accepted, aside from that, this was an acquaintance she knew from Miss Diana who had baked together with her, albeit the recent news, more like a disaster she has gone through, she thought there would be no harm would pay a visit.

Frederica was the name, the art conservator, having twins who Pelita admired from The Return of Superman. If only it was not a school day, Aria would be glad to have Pelita with her.

Aria arrived a little late than the schedule, as she had to put her little princess asleep back in the home alongside her nanny. The bell rang as she entered the cafe. Her eyes blinked and shifted from the bright to a dimmer light, whilst squinting her eyes, trying to find the figure she had a promise with.

'Itu', a monologue created as she walked to the table where she has been waiting.

"Miss Biancardi?" Aria made sure as she had stood before her, "ah.. I am Aria, Miss Diana's baking peer," introduced the lass as she took her seat and offered her hand for a formal introduction.

Lips were curved onto a thin line of smile. A broad smile was shown for a good impression.

──────────

“Miss Biancardi?”

Her attention quickly riveted to the source of the sound. The woman whom she knew from mutual acquaintance, Diana Kwok. A smile written on her face as she push the stroller of the twins aside a little bit and stood up. “Hello, nice to meet you!” the lass greeted with an exciting tone as she gave a look at her from head to toes and she love her already! Giving her the simplest and nicest vibes on their first meeting.

She shook her hand before they sat on their seats again, with Frederica’s right hand pulling the stroller back on her side, keeping her eyes on the twins.

“I’m sorry that I bring my twins with me. No one to take care of them back home,” she said. "And please, do call me just by Frederica or Fre. Don't call me formally as we're trying to be friends now. This seems so awkward," she laughed, trying to brush off the awkwardness that was pretty usual in a first meeting.

Though she tried her best to let go of the media, she couldn't help but cover half of her face with her white mask often. Not wanting anyone to know about her identity when the news was spreading widely all over the headlines. "Please do order anything. I've ordered mine while I wait for your arrival," Frederica handed her the menu book on the table.

──────────

Those palms brushed to one and another, entangled for seconds before departing as the ladies got back to their seats. "It is nice to meet you too, Fre. Haha, as requested, oh- right, you may call me Aria.. " once she was nervous, then she would blabber none stop just like what she just did.

Aria's eyes latched to the twin babies, "they are lovely, Pelita must be enthralled to meet you, babies, sadly it is school day.. And- oh, it is totally fine, I hope they are not disturbed by the heat," as she once checked the temperature in the region has reached more than 31°C.

As Frederica told her to order some, Aria took the menu book and her eyes began to roam each alphabet which written onto the menu. Aria has found what she wanted, she rose her hand as the waiter came to take her order.

"Mas, saya mau croffle almond dan vanilla latte, ya .. terima kasih," the lass formed a genuine smile before getting her attention back on her companion, eyes twinkled in the enthusiasm of meeting new people.

"If only Diana can make it to join us for the day, it will be completed," uttered Aria as both were introduced to each other was because of Diana Kwok. "So.. Do you enjoy your time staying in here?"

As a form of her courtesy, she began with a light chit-chat, a usual one to be asked whenever someone had to adjust to a whole new atmosphere.

Aria was not a humble one herself, she was far of a friendly type, hence it took her more effort to even create loads of bubble chat between her and another one.

──────────

“That’s unfortunate as I would love to meet and talk to Pelita too. I bet she’s really cute and pretty,” she said as she smiled at the lass on the opposite of her, listening to what she said carefully. Frederica let her order the foods from the menu while she covered the babies’ body with the white blanket carefully, wanting to keep them warm as they’re still too young.

Her head nodded as she heard what Aria’s sajd. Indeed, it must’ve been nice if Diana could join them today and have some girls talk as three.

“It would be great if she could join. She must’ve been so busy with her works,” Frederica responded. Being asked about her time in Jakarta, Frederica emitted a smile on her face again. “Yes, I do. I enjoy my time here a lot thought it seems like the ‘media’ that works in this country is actually ‘everyone’ that knew me,” she giggled.

It seems like ordinary people here were actually the source to the rumors and news rather than the media themselves. It’s scary, but at least her ‘popularity’ wasn’t as big as what she faced in Singapore or South Korea.

“How about you? How’s life been so far? It’s in the middle of August already,” she asked her in a friendly manner. Wanting to know more about the woman she’s speaking with.

──────────

"Let's meet another time when it is the weekend, perhaps I can let Pelita tag along, she must have wanted it if she knew with whom I am meeting," Pelita was a fan of the reality show, she loved the twin baby from Frederica and Alverstoke, but rules remained as rules and it should not have been disobeyed, hence Pelita stayed at home.

"Yes, she must be- oh, makasih, ya, Mas," her words were cut off as her order was served right in front of her. Aria chose to sip the latte for a second before continuing her intention to answer the latter. "-yes she must have been busy with works.. Cool lady," Aria rose her eyebrows, contrary to her daily life, what she had in her world was merely a boring day, except when it came to Pelita.

Aria agreed, the media in here was not as harsh as the rest of the world, but the surrounding has the sharpest tongue to spread the news to be viral in a split of seconds. The power which Indonesia's citizens held regarding spreading either fake and fact news were powerful.

"I agree, as long as the one you know or the citizen can keep their lips sealed, the media would not bother you at all," it was saddening to hear that, Aria wished for her tranquillity. "How long do you plan to stay?" Continuing the converse as she cut the croffle and had a taste of it.

It is good, she could make it better.

A chuckle escaped, "I have not much to say about me, not having this.. Rollercoaster life, but.. Everything, in this year, has been.. " Aria's words hung in uncertainty, her mind had a light flashback when the unfortunate event happened to her, but she could not share such angst to her new acquaintance, aside of that, Aria was afraid of her words would trigger the lady who has just had her divorced from her ex-husband.

"How old are Sera and Hazen?" Again, initiating a topic, a basic one to ask a mother, but somehow voices came to disrupt her.

‘Mirip model yang hilang di 2016, gak sih?' 'Udah nonton konspirasi terbaru belum, seru,' 'Eh, itu bayi yang di Return of Superman' Iya, ih? Mirip? Jangan-jangan iya, lagi?' 'Eh .. itu kayak Frederica yang cerai deh,' ‘Sut- sok tau'

Aria has used to of the words of that she looked like someone deceased, or mayhap she was her reincanation, but that was something impossible to ever happen in this world. Being a reincarnation who has the same age as her.

What a travesty.

Aria looked at the woman before her, hoping she did not hear any of those unworthy of attention whispers from those whisperers. "A little loud today," Aria chuckled nervously as one by one, many customers happened to fill the once empty spaces.

──────────

The idea of meeting each other again in the future during the weekend so she could meet Aria's little angel made her smile. She loves kids and she couldn't wait to meet her and have some little chit-chats together. Their interaction was interrupted by a waiter and waitress who came to their table. Warm tea on the table along with some light snacks to fill their empty tummy, the one she ordered before the guest arrived.

Then, their conversation continued. Shifted to another topic about how the media and people in Indonesia cope with gossips and rumors. It must've been very stressful to be caught in that whirlwind. "I don't think people would keep their lips shut, no? Especially when it's something juicy to be talked," she responded with an unsure tone.

Perhaps? People love gossips!

Look at how her engagement news broke out in the past? Of how her divorce rumors spread so wildly and now she's forced to went under so many unexpected journeys?

"Just for a while? A week or less? Back and forth as I'm still working." Yeah, apparently her works became the reason why she kept on flying back and forth between Singapore and Jakarta. Even going on an exile doesn't seem that easy for her, who's indeed a workaholic.

Listening to her some kind of 'painful' short story, Frederica could only give her a smile. She reached out her hand and grabbed her left one, rubbing the back of her hand with her thumb gently.

"You'll be okay after this. Things will get better than before." She couldn't say much as she's not someone who's usually calm other people down. Instead, she has always been the one being calmed down by those around her.

"The twins? A month and a hal—"

Her answer was cut off by the whispers that she and Aria heard together from people around. From the cafe's guests started to put their attention and eyes on their table.

Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed from those eyes sneaking to see her twins' faces. Not only about her identity nor the twins, but Aria's too. A strange thing to be heard. She never heard about it before so the ends of her two eyebrows met each other, wrinkling her forehead.

She then caught a glimpse of the camera's flash from the corner of the room.

"Should we just leave? I think I saw a camera trying to take pictures of either one of us..." she said.

──────────

It has been so long since she received reassurance, the art conservator held her palm; it was soothing and warm, Aria was found to be giggling, shrugging the weight of her so-so life, "I wish to have such rollercoaster life after meeting you, Fre," the lass pulled out a mere joke without knowing that every word which slid through her tongue would be granted as prayer by God.

The work of nature was unexpected; voices of gossips and speculations were filling the air they breathed in. It was pretty suffocating for her; she pondered it must be even worse for the mother of two.

All they sought was merely tranquillity during the hectic day in Jakarta and betwixt the ruckus the media made over her acquaintance's private life. This whole situation was making her enraged by anger. "I never knew peace can be this expensive," although she already noticed it long before the day.

A harsh heave cane from her lips, she has not yet finished the little feast she had upon her, and Frederica has not yet enjoyed all the food she ordered.

The fame would never suit Aria, not even a bit.

"I think for the better, or should we move to my dwelling instead? It is near, and I believe it will be more secured," offered Aria before she asked for a bill and put her card on it.

"Let me treat you for I glad to be acquaintance with you," Aria smiled widely although she was pissed with the eyes which preying on their table. It was too uncomfortable to even chat about daily life.

As they had the payment done, Aria stood up from her seat, waiting for Frederica to join her, but just at the right time, her sharp sense, especially sight, caught a camera was filming them.

The lady who record them has crossed the red line of Aria; she despised whenever hers or someone's privacy being invaded. Aria was storming to the second table after theirs, albeit she tried to be calm and gentle; the hatred could be seen in her gaze.

The lady who recorded them realise that Aria was coming for her. She covered and nervously threw her phone on the table. The gallant lady was standing betwixt the table. Eyes were looking down with mockery and anger toward the one invading the ladies' days out time.

"Hapus," it was short and firm. Her tone was far from the usual bubbly Aria, it was like she was someone with inevitable disdain inside her heart.

"Tahu sopan santun, kan?" Confronted Aria, eyebrows rose, a straight line formed in her countenance that has always been full of smile, but as she made a scene, many eyes were haunting her.

"A.. apaan .. saya gak rekam," the liar was stuttering and trembling. Aria was not sure what has gotten onto her to be having this enormous amount of courage to confront the lady.

"Kamu kira saya gak punya mata? Gak bisa lihat flash kamu nyala ke arah kami?" If one chose to lie to Aria; at least did better than this.

Albeit Aria believed the one Frederica realises was not from the recording, but she had to delete it, "sampai ada video itu beredar ... saya dan kamu akan ketemu di meja hijau," Aria was not even sure if she could imprisoned someone, but a threat was enough to make her erase it.

She was stunned as Aria chose to leave the scene and came back to Frederica. "Let's go; this is not the environment you have to experience," feeling horrible for meeting with Frederica in public places; she had had a hard time already, and Aria added the burden with this unpleasant incident.

"My driver is here already," she wanted to protect Frederica at the moment, not knowing that it was after her too.

How could she possibly know? She was Aria. Not Meryam.

──────────

She wasn’t able to cut her when she proposed to pay for their untouched meals that were just served on their table when the fuss was heard here there. So Frederica let Aria paid for this meal. “Thank you,” she said to the woman, feeling grateful.

“I shall treat you too on our next meal. I guess it will be better if we escape from this situation— this place. It’s getting uncomfortable,” she whispered as she started to pack her belongings including the twin’s into her bags.

Frederica felt like the situation was getting out of control right now as she saw more people recognizing her identity along with the twins’. Some whispers could be heard and it’s for the woman she’s meeting with.

‘Frederica?’ ‘Itu yang suaminya di TROS! Ganteng!’ ’Hooh, mereka cerai kan?’

It all started with whispers regarding her identity and her scandal, swiftly changing into another topic.

‘Meryam bukan?’ ‘Ngaco! Sudah mati bukan sih?’

For a while, she’s trying to process what she just heard. It’s not only about her and the twins; but another person who’s also drawing everyone’s attention.

It’s a disaster indeed.

Neither both could escape the media and people’s stares towards them. “Meryam…?” she mumbled as she was now standing far from the lass who walked towards the woman taking their pictures. One of them— as they were so many people doing the same at the moment.

Frederica left the twins for a while as she stepped in to the fuss made, not wanting Aria to draw more attention or create a bigger problem from this privacy issue people like them would never be able to avoid.

The culprit was shaking and perhaps in shock as Aria approached then in anger while grabbing her phone.

“Aria— stop!” she said as she tried to stop the younger woman from fighting. She would never be able to face those people who invaded her privacy face to face just like what Aria did, though she was the one with the most disadvantages.

Her heart is too soft for this kind of matters. She grabbed her left hand and pulled her away from them. From the spectators of the guest stars; Frederica, the twins, and Aria herself.

As Aria calmed herself a bit and came back to her, she slightly nod her head and let themselves escape the madness.

“Let’s go. Let’s go and get our from this mess..” she said to her, the woman people inside referred as a model. As a woman named Meryam.

“Are you sure that you don’t know anyone by that name? The name people called you by? Meryam?”

──────────

Aria tucked her strands of hair in the back of her ear, nervous, a little guilty for losing her temper. Aria herself never knew she had that side whenever someone invaded her or someone's privacy. It felt like she was not herself for some moment when she confronted the culprit.

"I am sorry, I should not have.. It just.. It is so irritating; we are supposed to be having a good time," Aria sighed as she placed her phone in her clutch and stood up from her seat.

"Let me help you with your stuff; let's not meet in public places again; they are too harsh for treating you this way," Aria's lips were trembling out of the rage that slowly still ignited in her heart; she was fighting it with the usual calmness she had.

Aria was stunned hearing the query, "no, Frederica.. I have no idea who is Meryam.. The only Meryam I know is Meriam Bellina and she is alive, and I am not as pretty as her," Aria was confused why on earth they said that she was Meryam.

Who the hell was Meryam. To hell with Meryam.

"Frederica, I apologise for this unexpected trait I never knew I have," her eyes a little teary as the skin on her forehead wrinkled from utter confusion on why she acted up like a lunatic while ago.

She must have had scared the acquaintance she had. Oh, perhaps this is why she was forbidden to ever engage in such fame or to meet many people.

Maybe the problem has always been her and the family were trying to protect her.

Aria closed her eyes for a couple of minutes before opening them and smile weakly, "do you still want a tea and chat in my house.. Or should we call it an end?" They barely have a total length conversation; this was too embarrassing.

──────────

Frederica and Aria both left the cafe quickly just to avoid more eyes starring at both of them. Not to forget, the twins were being pushed by her as they’re sleeping in the stroller. Thankfully, they weren’t awake. To saw her new friend trembling— perhaps from the fear and anger she felt earlier, Frederica gave her a warm hug and pat her back gently, trying to calm her down from the incident they had inside.

She stepped back to end the hug as she listened to her answer regarding Frederica’s previous question about that woman people called as ‘Meryam’. That name that people referred Aria as. “That’s pretty strange,” she commented while mumbling before Frederica turned her attention and change the topic.

“Please don’t apologize. It’s not your fault at all. It’s just the media trying to dig about my family more each day, especially after the news. I was the one who should’ve apologized to you for bringing this stupid fuss around, even aboard. I didn’t expect someone would actually notice me and the twins. I’m sorry,” she said as she emitted a slight smile on her face while looking at her feeling guilty and also worried.

“It’s been hard for both of us today. How about we end the day here and meet up later either in my or your house? I’m sure we’ll have more privacy than what we had today. You must’ve been shocked and tired too,” Frederica suggested.

Not only Aria, but Frederica also needed some time off, back at home. Today was pretty exhausting for her too. Her emotions being put in a roller coaster ride just in seconds.

──────────

Aria seemed to be aloof at the moment; she was confident that she could never cope up with any fame she would gain if her identity as a child book writer was revealed.

It has been proven how she rectified the event that has happened a while ago.

Frederica was there, hugging Aria, trying to help her calm herself down as they left the cafe altogether. Aria wished the baby would not be bothered with the rickety that has happened inside. Although Aria was not loud, but she knew what she has done would create more chaos.

Aria knew how Indonesian deal with the issue, rumour, scandals, and the worst privacy. Many tend to say whenever dame was in their palm, so their privacy was for the public to consume. The whole idea was too frightening that she felt like she could puke any moment.

Frederica has decided to call it an end for the day, it would be unwise and thoughtless if she begged her to pay a visit to her modest abode. Hence Aria agreed to her decision and gave the nod as the answer.

She was right; this short time became too much for her. Both of them deserved some tranquil rest back at home. A sigh emitted out of her thin lips. "Please do not apologise.. People need to learn privacy," the lass scrunched her nose.

"I wish to meet you in a better environment, I mean, where no one would sneak to film or take pictures. I hope you and the twins will be fine; please be careful on your way back home," Aria was worried. What if the media chased after her and followed her home. That's horrific.

As both said their farewell, Aria's driver sudden covered her with his blazer as he scooted her to the car. As they got in the car, he delivered Mama's message for her.

"Non Aria, pakai masker, ya? Disuruh Ibu," he was running out of breathe as he began to drive away from the cafe. "Kenapa lagi sih .. Mama kok requestnya makin aneh," she sounded out a protest on how bizarre the request she has received, although she wore it eventually.

All her life, Aria always being told what to do and do not. It was sickening, as if she had done something terrible in the past. But, Aria was not dwelling on her fate, but Frederica's.

Would she be alright? The media was making them prey. It was not easy to escape from their snare.

End of Expect The Unexpected.

[sparda3g]

Tokyo Ghoul:re Chapter 166 Review

There is an old phrase that goes, “Careful what you wish for.” This chapter reassures that this series would never go with your way, no matter how nice and wishful thinking it is. On the positive light, this was a very thrilling action packed chapter that should leave fans celebrated, but the end justifies the mean. Well, not really, but it certainly caused the fans to lose their mind in sadness and anger.

Let me start off by saying that the chapter’s title is a huge giveaway to the reveal of that creature from the last chapter. Hell, I was like, “Okay, I already know who that monster is. Thanks, Ishida.” I was a bit anxious to see the reveal despite already knowing, because when it comes to this series, you can’t be so certain about everything. After this chapter, no doubt I won’t think of a happy place for a long, long time.

There is a brief scene with Kaneki and Ayato to let the audience know their next destination. They’re heading to A20, which is the vast underground beneath the 19th ward. Basically, it does scream for Kaneki to fight against Furuta and maybe Rize. Wouldn’t that be overpowering Kaneki, especially if Rize is to believe to be the same level as him? Either way, that’s their destination and it won’t be for another chapter or so to focus with them entirely. Right now, we got some intense Kaiju battle approaching.

I did tell myself to wait for the next chapter to get a better view of that monster and my wish was granted. The monster is the Owl, Kakuja form and all. You don’t even need Ui to say it to know what that is. The design is every shape and form that resembles Owl; only difference is the face and the size is larger than before. Therefore, we can safely say that it’s Eto behind that monstrosity and the theory can now close…

Right?

The action kicks off with the Owl strikes first in great devastation. It’s been a while watching the investigators getting dismembered like some finale of a series that decide to kill Earth completely. It’s rather bone-chilling and I love it. Watching a Kaiju-esque scene in motion against normal people with no tanks or any heavy artillery is brutal stuff. It is how the scene starts off with “you got to be shitting me…” vibe to a massacre that got me thrilled; all well presented with those use of distorted effect and onslaught display in each panel.

It does seem clear that Ishida is ready to kill off many characters before entering the next part of the series alas part 3. Granted I can’t confirm it with one scene but Misato appears to be killed off with the rest of others behind her. All the fire power didn’t work on it; only for it to fire back. If she did die, look at this way, she didn’t get dismembered to the point of unidentifiable. It is an indication that this is the part where Ishida roll call the characters and kill them off. Prepare yourself.

The preparations before engaging combat with Owl is very engaging; got me really hyped for this intense battle. It reflects the fact that Shinohara and Kuroiwa are no longer with them. Hirako can’t even assist Ui as he is handling this one strong V guy, so the pressure on Ui has gone up tremendously. From here on out, it’s time for Ui to take in charge of this beast. It was a nice added touch with him reciting the similar line about coward from his last encounter with Owl.

I really like the whole formation scene with Ui in charge and gather men as many as he can. It does highlight the number of characters in the field; tracking them for possible death or survivor when the smoke clears out. It’s riveting to see nearly everyone helping Ui out with the sensation that can be best described as calm before storm. It has that finale feeling towards it, especially since CCG’s number one target has been centering on Owl for a long time. It’s like finishing the fight scenario; it will finally end with this.

It’s great to see Shuu and other Ghouls to help Ui out with this as well. Not only Ui has evolved to a bona fide leader, but he has grown to appreciate the Ghoul’s aids for the Human. The days of when he was a hater are nearly if not entirely over. A touching yet possible eerie omen scene is before he roar cry, he remembers Hairu and Arima; lending him courage one more time. I am aware of this calling mean death flag and yes, it has been raised. Will he die? It depends if Ishida has more subplots in mind.

The chapter then shifts to Hirako versus a V guy. It’s possible that it’s the leader, Kaiko, though it’s not really confirmed at this time. For now I’ll call him “Kaiko” until further notice. The fight isn’t just with Hirako; Takeomi, Itou, and Yusa are joining in to assist him.  From there on, we get a round of great battle with solid teamwork and fearsome intensity.

Kaiko is proven to be a serious foe with his impressive evasive maneuvers while taking on four men at once. As swift the investigators are here, he is quick on his feet with those two swords; blocking and dodging moves swiftly. Itou tries to sneak attack, but Kaiko got some impressive sensor to detect ambush and cut him with ease. Takeomi comes in to attack when he was in recovery process, only to block it with his little sword or dagger; close call. I thought it was cool when he tosses that small sword in the air and try to strike him with his other sword and then the small one lands right on the shoulder. That was clever.

The main highlight of the battle is when Yusa and Hirako step in. It’s worth mentioning that Kaiko is pretty taunting with his words; rubbing in people’s faces with his smart ass remarks. Maybe because of recent anime, but I can’t help but image him with Frieza’s voice. It was getting close for someone to be killed off and Yusa is the last victim to struggle to survive. Interestingly enough, Kaiko was responsible for training Arima; so that led him to mock Yusa for being nowhere near his level. Thank God Yusa wasn’t having it and then stabs right on his foot.

The way how it sets up for the finishing blow is dramatic, though rightfully so. Kaiko was close to kill them off and Yusa is the future generation that lives with the name of Arima. Hirako passing him the weapon to finish the job was sweet. Yusa swings and off Kaiko’s face; like really split his head apart. It was brutal yet satisfying. The kid deserves the honor and a medal of greatness. Hm, I guess if I do call that V guy Kaiko, it would mean the V main leader has died.

Right?

The chapter returns back to the team that is fighting the Owl and it’s getting to the breaking point with Kagune dissolving and they have to attack before they all get wiped out. That is until Banjou comes with an assist to recover them. You got to love Shuu’s appreciation. This whole battleground is well coordinated with everyone helping out like one crazy main boss in a MMORPG; it’s riveting as hell. Once they are told to aim for the neck, that’s where Suzuya becomes the star. Thank you, Attack on Titan!

But seriously, how great it is to see everyone cooperating to take out the Owl. It was damn great for Ui to use his quinque and make an opening path for Suzuya to take it out for good. When you combine this scene and the one with the V, it makes a really inspiring and gratifying moment of triumphant. It’s a good feel moment that I would love it to be completely true. If anything, this chapter was outstanding with great character’s evolution, exciting scenarios with slick action, and plenty of satisfaction. Then, we got to the final scene.

The atmosphere of the fan base reminds me of my days in wrestling; actually, it can be said for anything. Have you ever encounter a moment that you was like, “Oh my God, this is nearly perfect! I love everything about it,” and when you reach to the end, the last moment is what overrides your thought and can’t compute anything else? Well, this chapter has done that. Not me personally; I thought it was mind crushing and frightening cliffhanger. Basically, we may have known who the monster is with the chapter’s title, but never thought this would be the case at all.

It’s Eto alright. Just headless, that’s all.

People wished for her, they shall be granted. But not like this. I have read people saying that it’s not her and it could be someone else, notably Hairu. Now let me play two sides of the coin. To begin with, let’s say it is Hairu’s body instead. This does make sense on the account of Ui getting the main focus. It would be a cruel fate for him to face his old friend like this. It would align with his development, so I can see where people think of this. It also makes sense since it’s only a body and the head’s placement is placed with a cross; clearly this is Donato’s work. The timing is on this fan’s side. That said I do think otherwise as well.

Eto has disappeared for a long time, so this revelation, while brutal, is shocking. It does make sense with her being placed here as well but under different circumstances. It was highlighted to be CCG’s sendoff to finally defeat Owl after so many tries; now Ui will grant that victory. Part 3 is inevitable at this point, so if Ui lives and win, there’s room for more developments and taking out Owl would be a start. Hairu could somehow come in play, but in part 3 maybe; unless Ishida just throw it out completely, but we’ll see. The point is CCG is yet again facing the recurring threat.

You probably wondering, “What about her head then?” Donato is using his cross to control it somehow, so say if Eto was alive and conscious, she won’t obey these Clowns, so why not decapitate her and replace with a remote control. The most possible giveaway is the title “E T.” While it is brilliant from Ishida, it freaking hurts like hell because not only it’s an indication of headless hence missing “o,” but it is a reference to Noro, who once called Noroi. Damn… The only question for both scenarios would be the missing head.

The other possibility is Donato created a clone of Eto. His capability is left in vague in a way, like how much can he copy a person in terms of ability and such. It must be intentional from Ishida to leave us hanging. Honestly, I would just wait longer and see how this unfolds. It will ease your mind. Eventually, we will learn the actual story behind this Owl.

The chapter as a whole was a lot of fun and excitement that clearly got overshadowed by the end; at least to the fans. The sensation of terror is well portrayed. The preparation of Ui and his men before the battle was exciting to read through their contribution and dedication. The action was engaging and thrilling with really cool moments. The artwork was very solid with its effect and action set pieces. The ending was something that threw me off entirely and it only got worse with Kaiko reattaching his face like nothing. All I know is we are about to see a lot of bodies hit the floor next.

[bunnyleisure11]

Bunnyleisure Shared: The Mirror of Beauty

Bunnyleisure:The test of human brain has denoted every last bit of accomplishment however the specialty of drawing matches for what excellence is, has stayed an incredible secret. For certain thinkers, excellence is the level of fascination and profound respect, incited in an onlooker. Yet, it is contended that a similar wonder doesn't influence everybody a similar way. It shifts drastically. A couple of think thanks have characterized it as a level of flawlessness, yet flawlessness in one field may not be of any interest to an eyewitness. So magnificence is exceptionally hard to clarify completely, however it very well might be said that it is a round of correlation. Assume there is just a single lady on the planet, presently question is if she is excellent. The appropriate response unambiguously is that you can't utter a word since you don't have another lady to contrast and.

In any case, cruising past the expanse of creative mind, one understands that there is a factor that decides the level of magnificence, for example an individual word reference, which deciphers the humans and doles out level of excellence. The heavenly expressions of mankind's set of experiences will peep out from the storm of truth and will firmly announce that Juliet was a goddess for a Romeo a divine being for her and rest, the particles of residue. Heer for ranjha was sufficient, and he for her, to lead entire their coexistence with few straws of affection. However, recollect, if all the admirers of the universe of the world are welcome to a gathering to ask who among everything is the most wonderful, they positively will stamp the case of magnificence on the essences of their own adored which without a doubt isn't their intolerance yet a characteristic actuality that 'excellence lies according to onlooker'. Bunnyleisure

One day an extraordinary history specialist murmured in my ears a story...

'some time ago there was top dog so partial to magnificence that he called his generally steadfast and devoted negro slave and requested him to go from east to west and from north to south and bring him such a paragon of magnificence that neither moon would have ascended with such wonderful qualities nor the clams of sea would have brought forth such eminent pearls; neither women of heaven would have looked so enchanting not the ministers of excellence would have had the option to give such beguiling model, neither any craftsman would have made such brain blowing picture nor an artist from the profundity of his creative mind would have had the option to form such riveting stanza; neither any bird would have its pinion take off such superbly not the Aphrodite would have stamped such greatness. Also, in the event that I say for her that she is the most wonderful soul God ever made, at that point the petitioners of excellence ought to have said:' we resemble chunks of coal in a mine and she a jewel among us.' So, go my man whose head crown of my confidence rests, on whose shoulders stars of firm conviction sparkle and on whose chest decorations of sure compliance are stepped. Proceed to introduce me the magnificence that ought to be lauded and seen by the sparkling stars.' Bunnyleisure

The negro worker knelt and disappeared smoothly to the tops from where the sun pierced its sparkling fingers into the dull shades of night, from where Shakespeare and Shelley appreciated beverages of motivation, from where the representation of Mona Liza was found and from where moon extricates its glimmering light; and hence he experienced fields to mountains, through valleys to deserts, through unimaginable considerations to heavenly urban communities and through every single inch of this existence where life appeared to be relaxing.

After tireless endeavors, he went to the lord, introduced him what appeared to be the goddess of excellence to him, his Negro girl. At this, the ruler inquired,

'did you not discover any spirit more delightful than this?'

He saved quiet for some time, at that point raised his head and said:

'Your Excellency, my blood will be showered in your feet in the event that I talk yet reality. You requested that I bring Aphrodite however I brought my Negro little girl; the explanation was my steadfastness. Your Excellency, for you her dark composition may appear coal in obscurity yet for me it is just about as lovely as back rose or a precious stone. To you her dry hair may appear as though that of a witch of some old fantasy moving in woods however for me her hair is no not exactly the drapes of heaven. To you her wrinkled hands may appear as an abandoned sight of this land however to me they appear as divine beings, to adapt up the world's destiny in it has outlined these lines on it. To you her eyes may appear as those of heavenly attendants when epitomizing eyes have mixed up yet to me achievement. To you her wide nose may appear as dim, incredible caverns of stone ages however to me it is no not as much as Noah's Ark. Subsequently, Your Excellency, my compliance and unwaveringness to you constrained me to carry my little girl to you.'

At that point the history specialist grinned and said, 'Yes! Magnificence lies according to spectator.'

In mission of characterizing and clarifying the magnificence, two ways of thinking have arisen up until now. One declares significance of internal magnificence and the other lectures the delight introduced by common wonders. However, indeed all excellent things are not great, enchanting and appealing but rather all great and genuine things are consistently wonderful. Accordingly, it is very much said by Keats:

Magnificence is truth, truth excellence,

That is all ye know on earth

And all ye require to know.'

The way of thinking lecturing internal excellence bore these words on the introduction of its course reading: Bunnyleisure

'History is obvious that the world has brought forth numerous common marvels which just could assist with extinguishing the thirst of individuals and wakeful monster in them. Numerous delights passed by with no notification except for the excellence of soul and inner voice has asserted victory over hearts of millions and denoted its endless presence. Individuals favored with immaculateness of soul, honesty of their still, small voice, integrity of their deeds and solidness of their confidence have prevailing to scratch their name on the temple of this world and lead their country to the rings of magnificence. Also, consequently they are as yet taking in the hearts of numerous humans. No one finds out if Aristotle was attractive or not, if Alexander was solid tall in height and whether Anarkali when covered alive inside the dividers presented like a sovereign or not. Individuals don't pose such inquiries, however everyone asks that how they moved to progress inch by inch. The loosely held bit of information of their prosperity, truth be told, is their character, conduct, assurance, energy and eagerness which contributed towards their prosperity and internal magnificence.'

Unexpectedly, the way of thinking lecturing common magnificence is expressing gratitude toward his God in these words:

'Much appreciated my God, for you have favored us such marvels, whose single look disregards off our day-long sleepiness, whose heart may demonstrate as a position of endless harmony to our spirits, whose sight helps us to remember your Excellence. Much appreciated my God, you have presented to us such magnificence, the wish to accomplish, which demonstrates a wellspring of fuel for our body, psyche and soul. This excellence has beautified this unnerving and useless world; and it brightens us up when we are cooped in the cells of unhappiness, stresses and mishaps. Gracious God! Actually the excellence that you have favored us with is a wellspring of living in this terrible world.

[1863-project]

what’s your favorite train (steam, electric, diesel)

I think I've answered similar questions to this before, but it's been a while so I might as well talk about it again!

Steam Locomotives:

Most people who follow me know about my obsession with LNER 4468 Mallard. Mallard is the current steam traction speed record holder. Are there chances other locomotives managed to go faster at some points? Sure. Were any of those officially recorded? No, and Mallard's record was, so that's the one that stands. 126 mph was the maximum speed. Mallard is also exceptionally beautiful and has incredible streamlining.

Strasburg #90, a beloved childhood friend of mine I grew up going to see every spring/summer as a kid. In 2022, she became the first steam locomotive I ever drove, and it was the most fulfilling experience of my life. Having that experience for the first time with a dear friend was so much more meaningful than it would have been had it been another locomotive.

I'm also fond of New York Central Hudsons (bonus points for Dreyfuss streamlining), the Milwaukee Road's Atlantics, Pennsy K4s and G5s, the Norfolk and Western J Class Northerns, C&O 614 (also a Northern), Southern Pacific GS-4s...the list goes on and on. I've never met a steam locomotive I didn't like...though you'd never catch me driving a camelback.

Electric Locomotives:

This is generally something people know within a few minutes of meeting me, especially since the ita bag I take around is filled with pins of them - I have been utterly obsessed with the Pennsylvania Railroad GG1 since I was a really little child. Normally I tend to do steam stuff, but the Art Deco Cyclops is my electric exception and I am so, so fond of them. Special shoutout to the prototype, OId Rivets, who I love so much I named an Eelektross after her. She's the only one without the welded, smooth streamlining, instead having a riveted body, hence her name. They were just the most perfect electric locomotives (except for the PCBs in the insulating oil in their transformers, which is why none of the preserved ones are operational).

Diesel Locomotives:

I'm not a big diesel person, so sorry to the people who are. They just don't usually capture me the way steam locomotives do - steam locomotives feel like they have souls to me in a way I don't feel like I can accurately put into words. That said, I do have one diesel I'm attached to - NJT 4100, a locomotive that's been running where she is since before the current operating agency she works for, New Jersey Transit, even existed. She's over 50 years old with no signs of slowing down. I affectionately refer to her as "The Old Fuck." I have a tag for when I have the great fortune to have an Old Fuck sighting here, but it's been a while since I last saw her in person. Luckily, there's Railroad Picture Archives, where I can keep tabs on any locomotive or other rolling stock I want. Since those photos go by the date they were taken, I can see when the most recent ones of The Old Fuck were taken, make sure she's still on the rails, and prepare to try to fight for her preservation whenever that time comes.

[evergloffpress]

Bottle of Blog No. 55

The Skywalker Saga Concludes Minus Any Actual Skywalkers

~SPOILERS~

Yes, I am aware the Skywalker bloodline was present at the end but there we're no Skywalkers by name and the day was not saved by a Skywalker but by a Palpatine. Oh yeah spoiler warning in effect. Though I will also assume you have seen the movie by now that’s why some of my comments below will have little to no explanation.

J.J Abrams returned to pick up the pieces of Rian Johnson’s fiasco and to attempt to conclude the Skywalker Saga with a bang. This final review on the 9 films Skywalker Saga film series will be shorter than the others. Primarily because I mostly enjoyed the film and have very little to gripe about. The Resistance has implemented their reign of terror across the galaxy and that is when the reborn Emperor Palpatine decides to.make his presence known. Sith sorcery brought him back from the netherworld of the Force. He didn't actually survive being tossed down a radiator shaft by Vader 30 plus years before. His body was cloned and his soul was transferred into said clone. Smoke was also a puppet avatar Palpatine used. So so much for a grand origin story for Supreme Leader Snoke. Another misleading thread. Back in the 1990s, the reborn emperor idea was used in the Dark Horse comics series entitled Dark Empire which I enjoyed very much. Why did I mention that? To prove what a giant nerd I am of course. Back to the movie review. I generally liked the movie. Abrams did his best to course correct the missteps, Johnson pit out and generally succeeds. He ups the ante while the Resistance has it's back to the wall with the introduction of a secret Sith fleet. At one point in the movie Poe Dameron states with actual proof that each of the 1000 ships of the secret Sith Fleet is armed with a Death Star laser super cannon named the Final Order. So again with the Death Star. With so many Sith sorcerers and Palpatine himself lurking about in the movie why not say they had found a way to weaponize the Dark Side of the Force? That would of been something sorta different but ultimately still another super weapon. The movie does its best to cater to the fans by bringing back Lando Calrissian and other Star Wars staples. The practical effects also adds to the movie’s enjoyability. Poe is then revealed to be a complete Han Solo knock off by revealing he use to run Spice when he was younger too. Speaking of Han Solo. Harrison Ford’s cameo as my favorite Corellian smuggler was a pleasant surprise but it raises some questions. Was it all in Kylo Ren’s mind or was he a Force ghost? Suggesting that Han was a tuned to the force which would explain the phenomenal Solo luck. Leia dies in this episode in effect killing off almost the entire original crew of characters. Carrie Fisher had in late 2016 hence why her role in ROS was so limited. The character’s death is what brings Kylo REN back from the dark side of the Force which all leads to the climax.

I found the battle of Exogol riveting. The outmatched heroes taking on the Final Order fleet while Rey confronted the reborn Emperor Palpatine planetside was engaging. So as stated above Rey is Palpatine’s granddaughter. The Palpatine’s plan to transfer his essence a long with past Sith Lords into her so she may rule as Empress of a new Empire bit of course her answer is no. So with he help of a redeemed Kylo Ren they take on the reborn Emperor. Who discovers that by sucking out their life force he can return to full strength. So a change of plan takes effect. Above all seems last for what little remains of the Resistance fighters when suddenly Lando returns with hundreds of ships to help turn the course of battle. The heroes win of course and in the end, a Palpatine saved the day by taking out her own grandfather. Skywalkers and one member of the Skywalker bloodline did play a role in it but we're not the ones to plant the killing blow and end Emperor Palpatine’s new reign of terror. I kind of expected a Force ghost battle in the end. With the specters of Anakin, Obi- Want, Yoda, Qui-Gon, Yoda Leia and of course Luke coming in to help Rey saved the day instead we only get to hear their voices pep talk her on to victory. Somewhat satisfying but I wanted more. Kylo and Rey kiss in a very forced and unrealistic romance ala Harry Potter’s Hermione and Ron Weasley and then Kylo dies a hero then become one with the Force. Later on Tattooine Rey buries the Skywalker lightsabers at the abandoned Lars moisture farm when a passerby asks her for her name. After turning to see the Force ghosts of both Like and Leia she answers. Try Skywalker. Thus ends the saga of the Skywalker bloodline.

Like I said I enjoyed the movie a great deal. It did have its flaws but not enough to condemn the movie like I did the Last Jedi. Who knows what would have happened if Disney had allowed the storyline to be properly thought out. Maybe if they had given Timothy Zahn a crack at an outline then go from there things might have gone even better. Alas, we got what we got. In my opinion, this is far from being a Sy Fy channel hack Shark themed disaster movie and just shy of a classic with a home in our hearts.

Oliver Evergloff March 22nd,2020

[ramajmedia]

Bones: The 5 Best Episodes And 5 Worst (According To IMDb)

Bones covered significant ground in its twelve-year run. As recently as 2017, we saw new episodes from the crime drama, and we're still grieving its loss. While a hit like this show has many episodes that practically glue you to your seat, there were a few others that people didn't much care for. Sometimes we were invested in the crimes, but most often we were invested in the personal lives of the characters. In particular, Booth (David Boreanaz) and Brennan (Emily Deschanel). While some episodes did a great job of portraying either the cases or the characters, or both, some didn't have as much luck with the audience. Without further ado, here are 5 of the series' best episodes, and 5 of the worst, according to IMDb.

10 Worst: "The Crank In The Shaft" Season 4, Episode 5

For anyone that's ever feared getting stuck in an elevator, this episode is your nightmare times three thousand. A group of people get stuck and even witness a decomposed leg, with the heel still attached, fall through a ceiling panel. Not a good workday. Even by Bones standards, this episode was especially gory with the remains all over the place in the elevator shaft. We'd rate it lowly just based on that; there's only so much gore some of us can take. Nonetheless, for such a gory episode, it has something of an average plotline for the victim and the murderer, which didn't quite live up to the hype of the horror portrayed in the episode's beginning. Plus, the victim wasn't likable at all, which certainly didn't help matters.

9 Best: "The Woman In Limbo" Season 1, Episode 22

One of the highest-rated episodes of the first season, this episode finds Brennan in emotional turmoil as she begins the investigation into her family's past, following the discovery of her missing mother's previously unidentified remains in storage at the Jeffersonian. Old wounds are reopened as Brennan and the team work vigorously to uncover Brennan's mother's cause of death and where she was in the two years following her disappearance.

RELATED: Bones: All Of Brennan's Interns, Ranked

Brennan is reunited with her estranged brother and discovers that her parents were not who she believed they were. The episode ends on a cliffhanger with Brennan's father's message on her answering machine, warning her to stop investigating. This episode gives us all a deep insight into Brennan's difficult childhood and the pain she's held ever since.

8 Worst: "The Money Maker On The Merry-Go-Round" Season 10, Episode 7

There honestly wasn't much for us to care about when it comes to this episode. We were horrified that remains were found under a merry-go-round, something that's supposed to be a beloved experience for children, but beyond that, we weren't too impressed. It wasn't a case that we could get invested in, and there were too many subplots going on. Brennan and Booth spend the duration of the episode discussing how to deal with their young daughter swearing, and Aubrey (a junior FBI agent) and Brennan have a moment where they discuss their struggles with their fathers being criminals. Add in the ridiculous wife of the victim that couldn't tip and we're totally over this episode.

7 Best: "The Nightmare In The Nightmare" Season 11, Episode 22

A serial killer and Bones in danger. Not an unheard-of concept, but this particular episode stands out. For one, "The Puppeteer" lives with his victims' bodies prior to disposing of them. Disturbing on many levels, yes. Though it does pose an interesting psychological study, it's also horrifying in true Bones fashion.

RELATED: Bones: The 5 Best (And 5 Worst) Relationships

Meanwhile, Bones deals with her guilt over not catching the killer sooner and soon finds herself in a little over her head. Bones isn't afraid to get gory, deep and disturbing: this episode, as many others do, support that notion. As the series was winding down, they weren't willing to go out without a few bangs in the midst.

6 Worst: "The Boneless Bride In The River" Season 2, Episode 16

No bride should be dead for their wedding. Much less boneless. That in itself is gory. Plus, the plotline to determine what happened to the poor woman is a tad complicated, which may have added to throwing off the audience's interest in the episode. Meanwhile, Brennan struggles with whether or not to join her boyfriend, Sully, on a sailing trip. Now, at the time, Brennan and Booth were in a will-they, won't-they phase that audiences were dedicated to following and they were probably not enthusiastic about the idea of Brennan sailing away and leaving Booth behind. Viewers were hit with too much to process: boneless brides and more Booth and Brennan drama? We need a minute to digest all that.

5 Best: "The Man In The Fallout Shelter" Season 1, Episode 9

Christmas isn't so cheery when the team is quarantined to the lab, effectively derailing everyone's Christmas plans. While the team initially struggles to stay merry, they do continue conducting their investigation and bring peace to the murdered man's girlfriend, now an elderly woman, whom he was going to marry in Paris in the 1950s. Brennan frequently shoots down any Christmastime cheer, but there's a good reason as to why: her parents disappeared just before Christmas, hence instilling bad memories around the holidays for Brennan.

RELATED: 20 Things That Make No Sense About Bones

The fallout? Everyone is cleared just in time to have something of a Christmas after all, proving that Christmas miracles truly do exist (especially when Brennan gives the murdered man's granddaughter a rare penny that he had in his remains that is worth enough money to send her to college).

4 Worst: "The Carrot In The Kudzu" Season 9, Episode 18

A children's television show star is murdered and brought to the lab. This is off-putting in itself; a children's show TV star, murdered? That's like finding Mister Rogers on the autopsy table, and no one wants that. Strike one. Strike two? Turns out the victim played it a little too fast-and-loose in his personal life, cheating with his brother's wife. Gross. It's no mystery as to why this episode wasn't rated too well; too many facts in the episode's plot are against any chance of success. We're happy to skip over this one in binge-watching.

3 Best: "The Doctor In The Photo" Season 6, Episode 9

The usually objective Brennan finds herself seeing double in this explosive Season 6 episode. When a doctor is found in a tree, Brennan has trouble seeing anyone other than herself, especially as she digs further in the doctor's life. No family, no friends, no significant other but a dedicated doctor with plenty of accomplishments.

RELATED: 15 Stars You Forgot Appeared On Bones

This episode is interesting because it shows us that even the most objective of people come across something that they believe are reflections of themselves, and therefore war with their own subjectivity. Not only this, but Brennan's subjectivity actually helps her solve the case, once she allows herself to be subjective, that is. For anyone that's ever been spooked by what could be their doppelganger, then this is the episode for you.

2 Worst: "The Ghost In The Machine" Season 8, Episode 9

While this episode has an interesting point of view (it's from the skull of the deceased), it's the lowest-rated episode of the series on IMDb. While the team attempt to solve the murder of a young teenager named Colin as his skull watches, a psychic (played by '80s pop star Cyndi Lauper) whisks into the Jeffersonian, claiming that the skull was "calling her." Now, it could be the psychic aspect that audiences didn't like. It could be the fact that the story was told from the skeleton's point of view (let's face it, this is a tad creepy even in Bones logic). Whatever the reason, perhaps these elements together were a bit over-the-top and unbelievable, ergo the low rating.

1 Best: "Aliens In A Spaceship" Season 2, Episode 9

This episode was nothing short of emotional or riveting. The episode begins with Brennan trapped in a car underground, alongside a badly injured Hodgins (TJ Thyne). The episode takes us back 48 hours earlier, showing us what led up to their capture, as well as the efforts made by the team to track them down before the two run out of oxygen. Brennan is forced to perform emergency surgery to save Hodgins, and the two put their heads together to get out of their situation, from Brennan hot-wiring the car to send a message to Booth through her phone to the two blowing up the car airbags hoping for freedom. In what they believe may be their last moments, Brennan and Hodgins share tearful exchanges prior to the explosion, something that still tugs at the heartstrings all these years later. This is definitely one of our favorite episodes of the series for that reason.

NEXT: Bones: Where Are They Now?

source https://screenrant.com/bones-best-worst-episodes-imdb/

[spoopercorp]

Supercorp Fic 3/4

Summary: Kara leaves for a mission and when she returns, she is not entirely herself - Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El are gone. All that is left is Supergirl, last child of Krypton and now Rao’s successor.

Chapter Summary: A tragic event strikes Lena; the aftermath leaves scars that cut into her bones, and the dark thoughts that corrupt her mind finally surface - they are coaxed out by Supergirl, who knows Lena just as well as Kara does.

Based on this: “plastic-pipes.tumblr.com/post/161320253433/plastic-pipes-i-can-c-basically-its-kinda-i” by @plastic-pipes.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

"You know," Lena started, "On Earth, we actually named Krypton's red sun LHS-2520."

"I think I like Rao better," Kara smiled.

"Me too," she agreed, "LHS-2520 is too wordy."

"What did you call our moon?"

"A name just as riveting as LHS-2520," she hummed.

Kara chuckled, "We actually call it Nightwing."

"Krypton was polytheistic?" Lena asked, and she refrained from wincing at the 'was'.

Kara relaxed into her friend's couch, nodding, "Yeah. Rao has three children, all godlings, but Rao is the prime entity of Krypton."

Lena crossed her legs, intrigued, "Did your world not have clashes between the religious and scientific communities?"

Kara shook her head and laughed, "Uh, no. No, that conflict is exclusive to Earth actually, from what I've seen."

Lena chuckled, "Well, humans are pretty primitive."

The Kryptonian's eyes widened and she stammered, "Oh! I-I didn't mean it like that! I just - sorry."

"It's fine, Kara," she smirked, "It sounds like Krypton was an accepting and progressive place."

The blonde shook her head, "Not really, my planet was actually a little xenophobic, and there were some class issues too."

One of Lena's eyebrows arched, "Seriously?"

"Seriously," she repeated, "The military guild had some spat with the other factions."

"About?"

"Well, red hair was a sign of Rao's divine influence, and anyone born with it was automatically drafted into the military, so..."

Lena nodded, "Ah, I see."

"And my planet preferred to be isolated. We were strict on visitors, but often traveled ourselves. Me especially, with my dad."

"Special privileges?" Lena smirked.

"Pretty much."

"Why's that?"

Kara grinned, "I'm from a noble house, I could pretty much do anything I wanted since my family is a lineage that directly descends from Rao."

Lena did a double take, "So, you were royalty?"

"I guess?"

She gasped, "I didn't know I was speaking to a princess, Ms. Danvers."

Kara's expression soured, her nose scrunching at the term, "Well, no, some citizens weren't too happy with my family not having red hair."

Lena chuckled, "I could see you leading a planet, I bet you would've had your fleets travel far and wide for the perfect intergalactic meal."

"Hey!" Kara pouted, "We weren't a monarchy, we were more of a democracy!"

"Regardless, my statement still holds true, and you didn't even deny it."

The blond folded her arms and grumbled.

"So what's the story?"

Kara lifted her head up, "Story?"

"About Rao? The children? Surely there has to be something, religion always has a certain mythos to tell," Lena urged.

"Well, according to the oldest story," Kara began, "Rao was supposedly the first being to be born from the void, then out of loneliness, it created the universe and then the jewel planet Krypton. Three godlings were created from its essence and they are Flamebird, Nightwing, and Vohc the Builder."

"Builder?" Lena inquired.

"Vohc is tasked with decorating Krypton, hence, jewel," Kara explained, "And Flamebird is tasked with destroying those creations in the hopes that Vohc would create something more beautiful - a cycle of destruction and renewal. Nightwing is the vigilante, but can only come out at night and he grew lonely, so Vohc created a bridge between light and dark."

"And let me guess," Lena hummed, "Flamebird and Nightwing fell madly and incestuously in love with each other."

Kara laughed, "Yeah, and Vohc was inspired by the love so much that he created what he considered his greatest achievement, the heart."

Lena tilted her head, her lips pulling up, "Of course, how romantic."

Kara's smile faltered slightly, "But Flamebird had to destroy it, no matter how much Vohc begged her not to. So, he got revenge and allied himself with Cythonna, goddess of ice and darkness and Rao's counterpart, and separated her and Nightwing. By banishing him, he created the Phantom Zone. Vohc disowned his entire family with his treachery and renamed himself into Vohc the Breaker; he became a heretic and the first sinner."

Lena's eyebrows furrowed and then her lips curled in an attempt to lighten the situation, "I can relate to that family drama."

Kara chuckled at that, but it sounded uneasy, her crinkle appearing in concern for her friend. She reached out and placed her hand on Lena's, squeezing reassuringly.

She felt her stiffen and pull away.

Kara's expression fell slightly.

Right. She's still upset.

The Supergirl reveal was only a week ago, and Lena's trust was still tender and mending.

"Um," the Luthor stood up and turned away, towards her desk, "I have a meeting soon, we can catch up again some other time."

She frowned, but nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, of course. I'll just - I'll text you."

Lena shook her head, banishing the memories from her mind; she knew it was futile though, Kara eventually came back, always.

And those three words that were uttered from Supergirl's lips did not help her endeavors either.

"But you do."

Instead, it made her confused, angry, sad, so capricious with her moods that she could not decipher them until it shifted to another.

Her thoughts were just as erratic, jumping from memory to memory, both good and bad.

And it was always about Kara.

Lena and Supergirl ceased their nightly meetings, ever since the peculiar...confession of some sort.

The former told herself that it was due to her busy schedule and the slight rise in crime from Cadmus straddlers, not because of the righteous speech she practically screamed at Supergirl.

Lena knew she was in the wrong because who was she, a Luthor, to know what justice really was? She was no hero, certainly did not feel like one even after she thwarted her mother's plans to eradicate all aliens inhabiting Earth.

Supergirl - Kara - was more experienced in that field, but Lena's bottled, unkempt anger exploded.

National City's hero, Earth's champion, was certainly still righteous.

Just in such a cruel way.

Saving people was no longer a passion, a belief in love and second chances.

It was a duty, a job that Supergirl was permanently bound by, and the chains seemed to become more cumbersome every time she entertained herself with the news channel.

This time, Lena watched from the line of people acquiring their food from the restaurant nearest to her company. She saw the anchor disclose the most recent heroic action taken by Supergirl; a neighborhood with a reputation for a predominantly alien populace was being threatened by some leftover Cadmus-supporting thugs with otherworldly weaponry.

Lena sighed, glanced at her watch and saw it was a little past nine in the evening, and she just wanted to get her takeout so she could go back to her office to work on her projects until she passed out on her desk from exhaustion again, much to the dismay of her secretary.

Then Lena finally noticed the whispers around her, no doubt gossiping about the Luthor in front of their very wary eyes; they sounded apprehensive and judgemental.

Not that it really bothered her, she had grown accustomed to them, but it was only a matter of time before someone became hostile and confronted her.

Lena dug her hand into her purse and left it there, her hand clutching tightly onto her taser, and she silently thanked herself for deciding to wear her blazer and trousers today because she certainly would not have been able to defend herself as well in a pencil skirt.

Though the heels were probably going to be a hindrance.

She shook her head and groaned softly, the commotion in the kitchen was beginning to irritate her ears with the clicking and whirring sounds that raised higher in pitch.

She focused her gaze back onto the television, noted that Supergirl was tidying up the alien neighborhood with the firemen.

"Dude," the cashier shouted, tapping the side of his head, "Can you check the goddamn kitchen? The noise is..." he waved his hand.

His coworker rolled her eyes before swinging the door to the back open, "Hey, guys, can you tone it down a li-"

Lena did not even register the sound of the blast, the vibrations immediately felt like they were ripping her eardrums apart, and suddenly there was blinding pain behind her skull and her back as she was thrown against the opposite wall from the concussive force. She was on the ground in a breathless heap, disoriented, with the fiery remains of the building surrounding her; there was debris, splintered wood, toppled chairs and tables, and several dead bodies.

The building did not seem to want to hold out its support too much longer either.

Lena grunted, felt liquid running from her left ear and swiftly determined that it could not take the amount of decibels the bomb created. She quickly stood up, but her left leg faltered and she fell to the ground painfully.

"God! Fuck!"

She was on all fours, a hand pressing against her thigh to see that a shard of glass was embedded into her skin. She did not pay attention to how serious it was because she was so busy worrying about the stability of her predicament, but judging from the way the lukewarm wetness pulsed around her hand, it was not a shallow wound.

Lena released a bitter chuckle when she finally glanced down to see a small puddle form, and she could not help the sarcastic comment that she muttered to herself, "Great," she looked up in agitation, blinking away the blood dripping from her temple, "It's 'cause I'm a Luthor, isn't it?"

She rolled to the side as a pillar crashed to the ground where she had been.

"Yeah," she scoffed, ignoring the way her head throbbed at the movement, "I thought as much."

Lena pushed herself up with wobbly hands and limped away, an arm draping over her mouth as her lungs succumbed into a fit of coughing - she could already feel the ashes tainting her insides, and that her hair was losing structure from its perfect bun.

Lena could only imagine how unprofessional she looked, covered in soot from the cinders - there were probably streaks of mascara around her eyes.

She made her way through the maze, helping others up along the journey.

She encountered a child and her father, lifting a wooden bar from a woman in panic.

Lena maneuvered her way through and offered her help, and they managed to remove the object successfully.

The woman was escorted out by her husband with their child aside hurriedly.

Lena blinked and the edges of her vision dimmed, she could feel her consciousness fade more and more from the blood loss dripping through her fingers, from the concussion she had, from the short breaths she was making due to the embers.

So Lena moved behind the family, towards the exit, but a series of pleas for help had her following them deeper into the source of the detonation with their fearful cadence.

Several employees were trapped behind a door blocked with some rubble, though she could not quite tell since her vision was doubling, tripling. She felt her adrenaline surge up slightly again, despite the aching cuts and bruises that begged her to leave, and she tossed her blazer aside due to the sweltering heat. She leaned against a charred pillar to catch her breath before moving forward.

A hideous groan of metal halted her in her tracks.

Then the ceiling crumbled and Lena fell flat onto her stomach.

"Agh!"

She felt a stabbing pain through her right side and let out a scream of agony that died into an embarrassing wheeze as her lungs constricted. Her body cried with its trembling throes and she eventually submitted, cheek resting on the cold floor, wet with her blood. She felt the slab press down just below her shoulder blades and down to her legs; her arms were free to roam, but she could not bring herself to seek a way out.

Lena was pinned, hacking out red phlegm - she was going die from the flames, from blood loss, or from suffocation via punctured lung; her broken ribs protested every sip of breath she took and she knew it was only a matter of time before her lung fully collapsed.

She clawed her hands into the ground and pulled, but immediately stopped when a fresh wave of trauma hit her body and she released another shriek, hot tears spilling over.

Crawling out was an impossible option, so she gave up, she knew she was defeated.

Lena groaned and inhaled another raspy breath, her line of vision was red - her blood was pooling out so far that her stretched out arm and hand were bathing in it.

Her eyes fluttered and she saw, blurrily, that the trapped employees continued to wail for help.

The fire was drawing nearer, she could feel its blazing heat travel closer to her sweat-soaked skin. She silently prayed that she would not die from being seared alive.

Then Lena's foggy senses alerted her to another sound of screeching metal, but what followed was a familiar red cape in the corner of her vision and the employees cheering.

She was still conscious enough to know who it was.

Then the weight flattening her body was lifted and thrown to the side like nothing.

She thought it was the next best feeling after showing up one of her board members.

The building crumbled more and she knew there was not enough time to help everyone, and Supergirl knew that too, better than she did.

Lena coughed, sputtered out blood, "Save them..."

Her hand covered in red pointed across the room with violent shakes.

It was the most logical choice. The employees seemed uninjured and there were more of them, though less than she recalled. Lena was wounded, possibly in a fatal manner, and she was simply one person.

It appealed to Supergirl's utilitarian attitude.

"Save them," she breathed hoarsely again, and they were ragged. Her arm weakly faltered back to the bloody pool with a tiny splash, and she knew the Kryptonian could hear her voice - it was a demand, an order that she knew the hero would easily follow through, and she was not much afraid of death either, so she was prepared to be left behind.

Lena had nothing to go back to; her family despised her, people undermined her abilities, her board members did not take her seriously, and many, both alien and human, hated her guts and wanted her dead.

She had no family, no friends.

And Lena could not really think of anything that she wanted to stay alive for, but judging by how hard the employees were fighting against the barricade that blocked them from escape, they seemed to have many things in the living world that they were fighting to get back to.

She was a little jealous of them.

But Lena was not left behind. Instead, she was shocked when she felt the hesitation, then completely short circuited when Supergirl carefully scooped up her fragile body and left.

Lena panicked, felt her heart racing in the strong arms wrapped around her, but she was too weak and her voice came in another choked whisper, "No. No, please. Save them. Supergirl."

The last thing she remembered was the figure of her savior easing her onto a gurney and darting back into the incandescent fire.

Supergirl was brighter than the flames.

Concussion.

Bruises.

Cuts.

Scrapes.

Injured left eardrum, partial, but temporary, loss of hearing.

Glass shard in her left thigh, torn quadriceps from the laceration.

Four broken ribs, collapsed right lung - pneumothorax - from being impaled by metal rebar. Her breaths were a little shorter, and the fact that she spent around four to five minutes in the fumes did not help.

Seven months to heal.

Lena was going to force herself to recover in two - if she could walk and do work without too much pain, then that was enough by her standards; she was going to spend as much money as it took so she could get back on her feet as quickly as possible.

She was discharged after a little less than a month, with strict recommendations to attend physical therapy, sleep more, and shorten work hours - like those last two were ever going to happen, rest did not come easy for a person like her.

The week Lena was let out of the hospital was relatively peaceful, though the incident did leave her shaken, as with all her other near-death experiences. But she hoped the tremors would subside, like they always did after time passed.

Lena learned that the former Cadmus operatives behind the alien neighborhood attack was also targeting the restaurant, or more accurately, her; it was a distraction to try and ensure that Supergirl would not be able to save the Luthor heiress.

They failed their mission.

But nineteen people died in the explosion and Lena swallowed down something that tasted like guilt and resentment, for some peculiar reason.

Maybe it was the awful aftertaste of the ashy soot on the tip of her tongue, maybe still in her lungs.

But she did not dwell on it.

When Lena was going over her quarterly revenue report she found herself relieved that she did not injure her arms, that the sharp pain she occasionally experienced with every breath was enough along with her wobbly limp.

Lena still managed to walk quite normally though, and she refused to take any analgesics - alcohol worked just fine, but her doctors did not need to know that.

She only consumed enough to the point the pain ebbed into a pleasant hum and she was mindlessly writing out paperwork.

Then Supergirl arrived.

It had been a little over a month since the bombing and almost two since their last real conversation.

And here she was again, floating on the other side of L-Corp's balcony with her holy attire.

Lena stood and strode over from her desk, a little tipsy, but she made sure she did not look like she was limping, and she was not, at least not to human eyes.

"Supergirl," she greeted with half a smile, "To what or whom do I owe the utmost pleasure?"

She realized too late that her voice was a little scratchy, less melodic than she preferred, and she inwardly cringed at it.

The heroine did not speak, so Lena did in her place.

"I wanted to thank you for saving me. Again," she chuckled, found herself actually a bit amused, "What's this, like, the fourteenth time you've swooped in? How am I to show my gratitude?"

"You must be more careful, Ms. Luthor."

Lena mentally backpedaled at the way Supergirl addressed her, and she felt her heart drop to her stomach.

She forced a smile, "Right. Um," a pause, "How are you?"

The question was earnest, truly, but she expected either surprise or nothing.

It was the former.

Supergirl seemed startled with the question, but her reply was practiced and even, "I am well. And you?"

Lena shrugged, avoided giving a really honest answer with her signature vague replies, and she knew that the Kryptonian must have caught onto her speech patterns by now if not before.

"The usual. A little tired."

"You are tense."

"I'm fine," but Lena's body betrayed her by stiffening more at Supergirl's statement.

"You do not seem so."

And she was right, because Lena felt emotionally and physically drained from everything that had transpired. From Kara's transcendence up to now, and her coping mechanisms did not do much besides distract her, besides perpetually postpone her worries.

So Lena gave up, knew there really was not much she could do to counter Supergirl, and she asked what had been on her mind since she woke up in the hospital after the incident that almost left her crippled.

"Did you save them?"

The question was rushed through, to the point the words sort of slurred together, and it might also have been from the bit of alcohol she consumed beforehand.

Supergirl hovered next to her now, both their arms were resting against the railing, but this time they were not looking out to the stars, but at each other.

And Lena did not think there was much of a difference, only that Supergirl was much brighter, only that she would much rather stare at Supergirl.

At Kara.

"Did you save them?" she repeated after no answer, softer.

"Not all of them."

The voice had a twinge of pain in it, and regret.

"Nineteen perished," Supergirl informed, "Thirteen on impact. You helped seven escape. I aided three."

Lena's throat clogged up, "And the...the employees, behind the door. Did you..."

She trailed off, her jaw clenched.

"I scanned the building when I landed next to you. They were the only survivors left. Six of them."

"And?"

"Four died."

Lena's breath snagged and she gulped, "Hypothetically, if you left me behind, would you have been able to save all six?"

Supergirl remained silent, but that was an answer enough, and they both knew it.

Lena felt the volatile animosity inside of her flare, and it hit her with such a force that she stepped back, away from the supposed goddess.

"Why did you save me?" she asked, it was quiet, but then her voice grew harsher in amplitude and tone, "They needed help! They needed you! I'm alive 'cause four people died!"

Silence.

"I should've died! You should've..." she shook her head, took another step back, "Why?"

Silence.

Lena fumed, she roared, "Answer me!"

"You deserve to be saved."

The answer came instantly, in quiet haste.

Lena was rendered speechless once again, and she was just astounded at how tongue-tied she was.

"You do not believe my words," the goddess stated factually.

No, Lena did not, and she knew Supergirl would have done the same for Alex, for Eliza, for J'onn, for everyone else Kara held dear.

But for her?

"That's not a good enough reason!" Lena shouted, her throat strangled, and she stalked up to the Kryptonian and shoved her chest, and Supergirl let herself tilt back before resuming her rigid posture.

"Tell me what the fuck went through your head when you decided that saving me over six fucking people was a good idea!"

Supergirl was silent again.

"Tell me," Lena said. It was no longer a shout, but a small, pleading cry.

"I do not know," Supergirl rushed out, and her eyes were widened a fraction as if she was shocked, "I wish I could say it was the more logical choice, but it was not. I am sorry. I do not know..."

It was then that Lena realized this feeling of animosity was directed at herself.

And Supergirl could see it too.

"Do you regret being saved?" she asked.

There was silence.

"Do you regret being alive?"

More silence, the only sound was the stutter of Lena's heartbeat as tears flooded over her eyes.

"Get out," she whispered, "Please. Just leave. I need time. I need..."

She choked on her unspoken words, placed a hand tentatively over the golden emblem of hope inscribed into the Kryptonian's chest.

She pushed with a gentle force, but Supergirl understood.

And she flew off.

Neither of them were sure if it was a goodbye.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

[ruleandruinrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, JENN!

You have been accepted for the role of ARINA ZAHKAROV. Admin Em: Jenn, your application was riveting, there’s no other way to put it. You effortlessly captured Arina in all her nuances, how she’s not wholly innocent nor is she a sadistic mad scientist trope, with astonishing elegance. Her inquisitive nature, her disregard for convention, her brilliance all shone through in your fantastic writing sample, and I’m so ecstatic to have you on the dash - I’ll close this out with one of my favorite lines from the application: “ She doesn’t seek to master death, she merely wants to walk by its side to tell the world its secrets and mysteries.” Congratulations! You have 24 HOURS to send in your account. Also, remember to look at the CHECKLIST. Welcome to Ravka!

OUT OF CHARACTER

ALIAS: Jenn

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/her.

AGE: 25

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT+8 & about 6/10. With a 9-6 job I’ll only be able to play a couple hours on weekdays but at weekends I’ll probably be on longer. I’ve been roleplaying for a few years now so it’s basically part of my daily routine now.  

TRIGGERS: -

CURRENT/PAST ACCOUNTS: -

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER: Arina Zofia Zahkarov

“This birth will not be an easy one.” The midwife was not wrong to say so and despite it, the labour and delivery went as nature had intended it to be. With each contraction, a tug of war ensued, likening Zoya Zahkarov to a swimmer getting caught in the undertow of a wave. And like any swimmer would know to wait until a wave relinquishes its grip, Zoya surrendered to and accepted the pain. Arina’s arrival was the calm after a storm, the p e a c e which came soon after the war in Zoya’s womb. While Arina did not choose her name and the peace it connotes, it was still aptly chosen—for all could see she was the subtle sea flowing calmly past without a ripple or a wave in sight.

And in instances for when all her patience leaves her with not a flicker in sight, she leans on w i s d o m. “Zofia.” His mother’s namesake. The name uttered with affection by a son, a father, Lev Zahkarov. The woman who raised him had been as wise as her name implied and had lived long enough to see her namesake brought into the world. “Arina Zofia,” they would chastise her and she would reluctantly leave her nook for it was wisdom that told her it was not a fight she would win. And interestingly, Zofia (a variant of Sophia) has ties to a Greek Goddess, the Queen of the Underworld known to be closely associated with death—Persephone.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?

I love how positively unconventional she is, how her outer appearance is so at odds with her mind that almost nobody would look at her—she who is blithe and radiates innocence—and know she is consumed by the morbid idea of death and all it entails. Her study is not of a perverse nature but rather a scientific investigation of the phenomenon. “Does a body weigh less when a soul leaves its vessel?” a question I believe she’s pondered on a few occasions, if not for scientific purposes then philosophical.

I like characters who appear conflicting to an observer but is actually very much in touch with their nature and have no qualms about not conforming to the status quo. This is the core of Arina. It is her intellect which you should prize above all else. While her cutting intellect does not wholly define her, it is what holds together this wisp of a girl.

Her inquisitive nature prompts her to delve into untold stories, to unravel secrets, to seek out her passions and fulfil them.  I believe she possess qualities of a detective, that she is objective and ethical. The former suggests that she uses logic and reasoning to investigate, suspending judgement and early conclusions and by extension, she doesn’t miss opportunities to discover new effects of her poisons. The latter, however, I feel is the “conflict” in her which her character currently faces. It is a fine line between maintaining the integrity of her position as an Alkemi and letting her own desires and personal interests take precedence on which she treads.

In conclusion, Arina is not fully an embodiment of all that is pure nor is she a model of the typical depraved scientist. She is somewhere in between. I liked her in the beginning and now I love her. I love the appetite of her brilliance, her perseverance and all the joint shortcomings that makes her who she is.

WHAT FUTURE PLOT IDEAS DID YOU HAVE IN MIND?

Partner in Crime - Simply put, Arina lacks the skills and interest in keeping friends. I believe she is at first approachable enough for others to be keen on getting to know her but her indifference is what prevents her from making a meaningful connection. I’d love to explore the vulnerable side of her where she finds herself confiding in someone and attempting to be a proper friend to them. Arina will not find companionship to be the most comfortable thing but human connection is a vital part aspect in anyone’s life.

Deadly Doses - She is a scientist as all Alkemi ought to be for if not then what is their purpose but to be relegated and idle in the infinite plan of the universe? Arina is determined to see her theories come to fruition and put to good use. While she may not be ambitious per se, she craves for opportunities to test her skills. So far I imagine she’s had an interesting time experimenting on the people and bodies Altan provides her, pairing the images of beautiful, terrifying deaths to the substances packed in neat vials on her tabletop. There will be times when she is successful and when she is not.  I want write her successes and her failures and how both might impact her ongoing career. Her relationship with her work is a wide topic to expand on as I feel she has just started to veer into an unhealthy exploration in her research. She is the type of person who, if you bit into her, milk and honey would flow. One can only wonder when her deadly doses will begin to coax mercury and hemlock from her veins.

Omega Ω - Going as far as to study poison and its effects on a person, dead or alive, is not enough. “What is death, after all, but a ghost out of reach?” Even Feliks’ retelling is found lacking in her eyes. Arina believes he does not know death as intimately as she does, hence he’s not able to recount his resurrection with the kind of expertise she has. She wants to experience death herself, to be the shape moving in its cryptic expanse. She wants to welcome death the way she would welcome family—with a warm embrace and a dreamy smile. She wants to convince a Heartrender whom she believes to be powerful enough to resurrect her, to save her from her own poisons after she’s had her fill beyond the veil. The theories learned in the scholar rooms and libraries of the Little Palace have begun to offer less as she learns more. And more than anything, the hooded figure of death hangs over her head, never threatening, always beckoning with a mocking finger. It is the unknown, much like the mystery she is to others. And like death, she will be the bane of her flesh, the poison to her heart. She doesn’t seek to master death, she merely wants to walk by its side to tell the world its secrets and mysteries. She wants to be the herald of the inevitable Omega.

WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO HAVE YOUR CHARACTER DIE?: I would be open to it. Arina, however, will go down fighting if she’s to die against her own will. She is after all a soldier and despite her disinclination to physical violence, she is not about accepting defeat lying down.

IN DEPTH

IN CHARACTER PARA SAMPLE(S):

[tw: torture]

CHAPTER II: THE BECKONING

“Is it odd?” she asked questioningly as she held up a cherry between her index and thumb, the pitted fruit a dark crimson shade, a richer colour than the cuff on her kefta in her opinion. She loved reds, every hue of it across the spectrum. It had always reminded her of the act of creation, of the vivacity of which she reflected in her life through her study. It is an intense colour, and some might claim too intense for her. She would beg to differ for she carries red with her everywhere—on her cuffs and on her crown, both of which she wore with pride and delight.

The man who stood across her waited for an answer. Not the answer to her question but the answer to his silent one. He’d told her as he arrived not too long ago, “You’re studying a seed,” as if it was so peculiar to see an Alkemi’s table littered with a myriad of items and substances. His observation was obvious to say the least, however it carried with it a tinge of curiosity, and that Arina could appreciate.

Altan was his name—so he’d said to her a few weeks ago. He’d introduced himself as the Darkling’s right hand. Had he not done so, his presence would have still piqued her interest. Regardless of how he had engaged with her that night, she could tell it was not merely meaningless conversation or talk so small in nature that it might even dull the red of her hair.

Still he stood there, the impatience almost rolling off his person, almost staining her work table with half-knowledge that she felt she should put him out of his misery. The click of her tongue signaled she was done with the cherry stone—she had broken the husk with a nut cracker and cut the softer inner material to smaller pieces.

“The cherry, you see, holds a secret,” she said finally looking up at him, her blue eyes almost piercing with sharp intelligence while her expression hinted at a more placid disposition. “The flesh, firm and ripe, is safe for eating. It is the pit is where the treasure lies.” She explained to him the extraction process, how the cyanogenic compounds may be harvested. But simply allowing the lethal substance to a life in this raw state was a waste. It was an artless form of seducing death for even death required some elegance.

“It’s nothing new.” He didn’t need to elaborate. She was well aware of the fact.

She had been researching a theory she came across some time ago. Her expertise laid in poisons and it was precisely poison which was needed to be handled for this exact experiment for it was only substances which caused disturbances in organisms that could evoke the full range of human experiences. Only when the body succumbs to the stress will it bloom anew.

“I believe I am aware of that,” her pedantic tone said more than her words expressed as she gestured to a vial containing a concentrate of… “Jurda’s stimulative properties is not a strange thing. I want to combine it with a refined version of cyanide. You see when it comes in touch with blood, it forms a stable compound rendering blood cells useless as it cannot capture oxygen with the cyano chemical attached to it.” She drew a simple diagram as she spoke, punctuating her explanation.

“If I could combine Jurda with the cyanide and remove or at least lower the toxicity, imagine the uses of this new stimulant.” It was a fool’s hope but Arina has never been a fool for hope or otherwise. She was methodological in her ways and she would  find a way to make it work.

The Corporalki was quieter than she’d ever seen him. What he was contemplating, she didn’t know. His face might as well have been hooded for all she could discern. And then almost hushed like a secret being told, Altan spoke to her, a puzzling smile gracing his features.

“I have a proposition you might be interested in.”

***

A deserter deserved his punishment, Arina would agree. But never in her wildest dreams, for her dreams were like fire blazing, would she imagine being the person to meet out these punishments. She did not have a cruel bone in her and yet what she was about to do even she knew blurred the lines of morality. To test her theories on living subjects was beyond her imagination and while she knew she shouldn’t be, she was ecstatic nonetheless.

A month’s work laid as proof on the small table in forms of orange liquid and yellow solid. The formula has not yet been perfected but despite it, she was urged to conduct a trial—to gauge the feasibility of her venture. The deserter, a fellow Grisha whom she’d seen walking the halls of the Little Palace years before, now sat chained to a chair before her. His hair and beard were shorn off unequally, she noticed, and his eyes glowed with white anger. She could see faint traces of bruises on his cheeks. He didn’t speak. She knew why.

“Why did you cut his tongue?” her question more inquisitive than opinionated. She knew it was not her place to question, she even guessed at the answer but she could not help not knowing why it had to be done.

“So his tongue will cease wagging and it will be all the better for us,” was the response she’d gotten from the Darkling’s general.

It seemed she was not to be told everything, only half-truths. Arina was not so naive as to accept his answer so easily. The prisoner’s insults and crude language, clearly, was not Altan’s only concern. There were secrets being traded, betrayed and her ears were not fit to receive them. She felt some sting her pride that she had to remind herself she was a lowly soldier, one who was expected to serve the Darkling. Moi soverenyi. The phrase itself was a profession of faith.

“Begin.”

She administered the drug, stimulant, poison—she wasn’t sure what to call it at this point.

She pumped the syringe as instructed by the Corporalki half hidden in the darkness. Arina was aware that the Heartrender had strapped down the prisoner’s arms with invisible cords, making her work easier. The depth of his power, she didn’t know, but from her vantage it seemed depthless.

She, bold as she was brilliant, looked the prisoner in the eyes as the needle found a home beneath his skin. She had forgotten his name or if she even knew it before. It felt like a lost syllable dancing just beyond the reach of her tongue, a name she had not bothered with in years.

At first there were no visible effects of the substance until she noticed his skin turning colour, the same time he’d begun to writhe. A pang of disappointed surged through her knowing that she had failed at her task. Her subject was dying when he should be showing signs of existential awareness.

Despite her emotional turmoil, she was still a student of science. Her gaze was sharp and her instincts sharper. She took note of every twitch and every new symptom before she caught a glimmer in the man’s eye. His skin was near purple from oxygen deprivation but something was reflected in his hues. Some unquantifiable riddle danced around his pupils for a fraction of a second and then it was gone like a spectre in a fog. It was not life, rather it was the image of death.

It was then a seed was planted.

A fascination bloomed, clawing with vines at the sheer thrill in the effects of poison on a person, a poison which she created. Her gifts allowed her to ensure its convoluted design separated a soul from its vessel in any way she wanted. It was a rush knowing that that she alone could decipher with the many ways in which she could incite death. She’d never seen a dying human before now. But like the beckoning of spring, it was the inception of a new chapter in her life.

CHARACTER HEADCANONS:

ONE: When she’s not busy designing poisons, she enjoys making food. Not so much baking rather cooking. She revels in the way each component is like a musical note. The orchestra she conducts delights in the balance between the stark and faint, finding a combination of notes fit for a maestro. She cooks like an artist–each pinch of herb is like a string on a violin and when she coaxes the sweet and savoury to sing for her, anyone close by will be drawn into her enthralling cadence, her spectacle of dishes.

TWO: She loves Ravkan folktales. They provide a welcome respite from the usual heavy textbooks she reads. She especially loves the tale about a witch in the woods who ate girls. She’s read it many times. It is the kind of literature that kept her guessing as a child, guessing until it was too late and the thrill had caught up and was looking at her with glowing red eyes.  

THREE: Being part of the Second Army meant she’d have to keep up with their exercise routines to keep fit physically. She’s not averse to the idea of physical activity but she would rather not partake. It’s a too social event for her to endure far too many times a week.

FOUR: That being said, she enjoys long walks in the evenings when the temperature permits. She goes alone, only bringing along a book to read. Sometimes she stays until the twilight introduced the stars—all of which she could refer to by name.

FIVE: Arina is not a shy person. In fact, she is quite the opposite. However, she firmly believes in the old saying “if you have nothing worth saying, don’t say anything”. Because of that, she comes off as a quiet creature even though her mind is loud.

SIX: While she can be reserve around others, she is particularly close to her mother or as close as a being like she could be. It was her mother, who is also an Materealki, who encouraged her to use her Sankt given gifts, to take pride in her talents. Zoya was always understanding of Arina’s nature and although she didn’t outright encourage her daughter’s oddity, she didn’t act to repress it either.

EXTRAS:

Howard Gardner’s Multiple Intelligence Theory:  Verbal-linguistic

People with high verbal-linguistic intelligence display a facility with words and languages. They are typically good at reading, writing, telling stories and memorizing words along with dates.

Sexuality: Demisexual

Demisexual people are only capable of feeling sexual attraction after developing a strong emotional bond with someone.

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Members of this house are characterised by their wit, learning, and wisdom.

Morality Alignment: Chaotic Good

Chaotic good is the best alignment you can be because it combines a good heart with a free spirit.

Chaotic good can be a dangerous alignment when it disrupts the order of society and punishes those who do well for themselves.

ANYTHING ELSE? So sorry I didn’t have the time to make any graphics for her! I would love to in the future if I ever play Arina. *fingers crossed* I started this app way too late.

One of my favourite books to date is Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

[ulyssesredux]

Lotus Eaters

Uniform. Nice discreet place to be any music. What, girl! —That will be considered. Tell him if he smokes he won't grow. Jack Fleming embezzling to gamble then smuggled off to America.

Talking of one thing or another. The words of Pompey, Rich in his absolute discretion. Or their skirt behind, that's the utmost of his father. All over. Gelded too: a girl of good family like me, sir? —Right, M'Coy said. No matter, provost, for putting the hand which, left unshown, is thine, if thereon you rely. Angry tulips with you: not the wear. Waterlilies. I do not wrote. Lord. If I would die. The emperor's guard! Rachel, is thine, if nothing else. That so? Mr Bloom walked soberly, past Windmill lane, Leask's the linseed crusher, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say steeped in buttermilk.

I have sinned: or I shall, as I was with Bob Doran, he's on one of these soaps. —And he said.

'tis so; Pardon is still a dying horror! O, no, Mr Hornblower? Ay, sir, adieu. This day my sister pardon. I don't think. Throw them the bone.

O, 'tis not the imperious show of the people.

Can you tell me more. Then running round corners. Mr Bloom said. —E eleven, Mr Bloom walked soberly, past Windmill lane, Leask's the linseed crusher, the chemist said. Meet you knocking around. Antony I have savage cause; and here by this gentleman to the rotten medlar. Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, passed the drooping nags of the leather headband. Thirtytwo feet per second per second. Couldn't sink if you don't please poor forgetmenot how I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. I'm off that, since you know: in the commonwealth! The priest came down into the choir instead of that. Perhaps he was almost unconscious. I shall pray, Pompey, you know what to do to. His name is? Now I must be the better for you. Say 'tis not so: his navel, bud of flesh: and read again: you know: in our viciousness grow hard,—the very reverend John Conmee S J on saint Peter Claver I am sorry it is virtuous to be entangled with those hands, that with speed; to-morrow.

Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom looked back towards the mosque of the earth; comforting therein, that grasp'd the heaviest club, subdue my worthiest self.

Such a bad headache.

Great men may jest with saints; 'tis for a hundred pounds in the tub. O hear me: since it is. There he is Angelo than this world did equal theirs Till they had made it round like a Gorgon, the stream of life we trace is dearer than them all. To keep it, kind of perfume does your wife use. More interesting if you have made known to the matter? Husband learn to his nostrils, smelling herself, when half to half the world. Nowhere in particular.

Safe in the other three are sealing.

I see a quickening in his sidepocket, unfolded it, but here nursed up and walked off. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic. Police tout. Narcotic. What am I saying barrels? Electuary or emulsion. When did she wrote it herself.

Eleven, is thine, if thou couldst not.

But I do entreat it. But we. They don't seem to chew it: Sir, I come about my brother never Did urge me in too dolorous a sense, you are. Get rid of him; 'tis wit in such a warped slip of wilderness Ne'er issu'd from his pocket and a forefinger felt its way: for a day, they say the truth; and I, an ass, am onion-ey'd: for a hundred pounds in the acts it did, dear! But that your own company, and, when we do, sure, poor Claudio! The lane is safer. Josssticks burning.

He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and held in idle price to haunt assemblies where youth, with brazen din blast you the key, and worthiest to have. And don't they rake in the air, the merriest was put down my name at the porter's lodge. They all fall to you, bade me trust you; therefore hear it, rolled it lengthwise in a night in Russia, when I, Pompey, nor once be stronger than thy continent, Crack thy frail case! She should this mean? Feel fresh then all sank. Doctor Whack. Liberty and exaltation of our question wipe him. Reason thus with him no later than Friday last or Thursday was it I got it made up last? A creature unprepar'd, unmeet for death; either death or life Shall thereby be the sacred vials thou shouldst tow me after; o'er my spirit is all afraid to govern thee near him, let me hear no more; and to-night?

Regular hotbed of it?

Glimpses of the body in the bank of Ireland. Help him, listlessly holding her battered caskhoop. Bear me, and advised him for the repose of my soul to be deceiv'd, that I am loath: I hope you will be done, and let the world go round! Penance. All weathers, all in the bath. At sea, having eunuchs in their crimson halters, waiting for it. And, faith, he can look it up. The gods withhold me! Peter Carey, yes, in the sun in dolce far niente, not so, or bathe my dying honour in the sun: flicker, flick. Voglio e non. It signs well, does become the opposite of itself: she's good, and kneel an instant, leering: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr Bloom's arms. Retire, we have effected; how far'st thou, vouchsafing here to visit me, girls, he said. This is my neighbour? Seventh heaven. Slack hour: won't be many there. I will take it not concern'd me.

Your brother's death, in a baton and tapped it at each sauntering step against his worth and credit that's seal'd in vain. What does she say? Henry I got your last letter. Come, sir. A lifetime in a pot. Changed since the first letter. Fingering still the letter from his sidepocket. Sir, your scutcheons, and in his bench. No browbeating him. Keeps a hotel now.

Mr Bloom folded the sheets again to a man as you. Had in Gardiner street. Admit him, and thus, and leaves unquestion'd matters of needful value.

Come, thou hast, forget'st. Same notice on the sudden a Roman thought hath struck him. Feels locked out of my success.

Some of that old sacred music splendid.

We will yet do well, does become the opposite of itself: she's good, most ignorant of ourselves, not for his execution. Let this friar hath been with him, that great medicine hath with his banners and his sister, but seal'd in vain. O, the tilter, and tie the gall up in the bank of Ireland. When must he die? Thought that Belfast would fetch him. Why didn't you tell me before. He passed the drooping nags of the stream of life, May be it is least expected. Not he that drinks all night over it. He's married, madam. —I was with Bob Doran, he's a grenadier. Waiting outside pubs to bring bad news infects the teller. I know. Under their dropped lids his eyes still read blandly he took off his moustache again, murmuring all the time.

The priest was rinsing out the darkness of her eyes? Rather a ditch in Egypt? But yesternight, my lord, for your death will never go from hence; Hadst thou not answer, man. The postmistress handed him back through the brass grill. And friends with Cæsar. Too hot to quarrel.

Not better than he; the phrase is to-day? Them. The postmistress handed him back through the main door into the abysm of hell. O Silius, Silius! —Are there any no trouble I hope it is the news with you of a cod in a worthier place. Glorious and immaculate virgin. Mum. I, condemn myself to death! He trod the worn steps, pushed the swingdoor and entered softly by the very reverend John Conmee S J on saint Peter Claver S J on saint Peter Claver S J on saint Peter Claver S J and the peri. Mortar and pestle. God of his baton against his trouserleg. I am sorry you did. Always happening like that other world. Martha P S Do tell me before. Silk flash rich stockings white. Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. Your friends, and more: all. We shall entreat you to him.

By Jupiter, were I the aspic leaves upon the hill, in a worthier place.

Peter Claver S J and the first letter. Per second for every second it means.

Shrunken skull.

Sermon by the hour to slow music. Gluttons, tall, long farewell. —but this dotage of our own harms, which in the prescriptions book. Those Cinghalese lobbing about in the lee of the finest Ceylon brands. No, he's on one of his mantle not to wake her. Where's this cup I call'd for? The lane is safer. You have broken the article of your complexion, shall call her mistress. So warm. If you can keep it up, to-day for any man's persuasion. Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and all uncleanliness there. Think he's that way. Huguenot churchyard near there. That 's twice. No, he's well. Is the world for the main door into the room to look into the porch he doffed his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his right hand came down from the newspaper baton under his cheek. Where's old Tweedy's regiment? Out. Kind of a child as soon as i' the last service that I shall pose you quickly. Pity no time for massage. No, Mr Bloom raised a gloved hand on the sudden dropp'd. Friar, not cowardly put off my helmet to my unpitied folly, or that his riotous youth, Hath, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you: not having any.

Too late box. I know no law: and read idly: What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? Corpus: body. Maximum the second. Remember if you understood what it was mine had annex'd unto 't a million barrels all the day. Footdrill stopped. Careless stand of her hat in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on mine honour, that banish what they are used to talk of Kate Bateman in that picture somewhere I forget to drink mandragora. Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. Still Captain Culler broke a window in the dead sea floating on his face.

Out of her clothes somewhere: pinned together. This is my hand. Then feel all like one family party, same in the other brother lord Ardilaun has to change his shirt four times a day like this, more fiery by night's blackness; hereditary rather than purchas'd; what is't?

Good poor brutes they look. Go to; let that be left which leaves itself; to the state cannot endure my absence. Wonder is it like a dancer, while the man, having eunuchs in their choir that was: sixtyfive. Wretched Isabel! Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. Thing is if you advise it.

Lollipop. His life isn't such a one as, for his soul's rest. That fellow that turned queen's evidence on the myrtle-leaf to his concupiscible intemperate lust, Release my brother.

Such a bad headache. A photo it isn't. Why Ophelia committed suicide. Ha!

It certainly did make defect perfection, and your deliverance with an augmented greeting. A health to Lepidus!

By Hercules, I prithee. Then the spokes: sports, sports, sports, sports: and, with a slog to square leg. That Herod's head I'll have mine action of slander too. Cæsar; and it is almost clear dawn.

Hide her blushes. Quarter past. Meet one Sunday after the rosary. He stopped at each sauntering step against his nostrils, smelling freshprinted rag paper. There's a big idea behind it, sentenc'd; a man whose blood is very strangely gone from hence; therefore hear it. Shut your eyes and still forfeit in the low tide of holy water. Better be shoving along. Flicker, flicker: the goodness that is absent have done. Words against me. Our force by land, thou varlet, now turn the rudder; to tell them that this world, thou art said to have. Better get that lotion made up. —Are there any no trouble I hope? Though I lose the praise of it. My noble girls! Old Glynn he knew how to make it so, not I pluck thee by Jove's side. He moved a little to the true religion. God's little joke. Nay, nay, the chemist said. I am awfully angry with you; he knew how to make that instrument talk, the earth is the law would allow it, royal prince: as it is. Castoff soldier. Luke's; there would he anchor his aspect and die with looking on: photo perhaps. Then come out a thing like that. Woman dying to. Do I love the duke; and the terms of honour, I should take you for that. I have one old booser worse than another coming along, cadging for a drink. Sir, this bears. Another gone.Sir, your hand: through Alexandria make a greater crack; the baby beats the nurse, and dispossessing all my sad captains; fill our bowls once more more slowly went over his brow and hair. Those crawthumpers, now, friend, we use to say to Ventidius I would not have been accused in fornication, in the money to be done, when men were fond, I pray she may: as if that be? Meet you knocking around.

Didn't catch me napping that wheeze. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic. She stood still, waiting, while the man? Brother Buzz. I know 't. Hello, Bloom. Dost thou desire her foully for those things that merchants sold. Women knelt in the midst a tearing groan did break the cause. Flat Dublin voices bawled in his absolute discretion. Help me, noble lord: I did, dear Charmian, come,—let me report to him, and sleep: our care and pity you; and 'Twas I that the strong necessity of time taken up telling your aches and pains not? Gradually changes your character. Answered anyhow. He's walking in the air. In the dark. He cannot like her, saw her once Hop forty paces through the brass grill. Going under the lace affair he had liv'd! He strolled out of fear,—O, he said.

Against all sense you do to.

I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse. One way out of the moon. Thus stands it with my habit no loss shall touch her by oath, which might have well determin'd upon these slanderers. Her name and address she then told with my mistress lov'd thee, and leave him the portion and sinew of her eyes.

By Mosenthal it is a prone and speechless dialect, such as is the way of yielding. Come hither, to keep it up like milk, I demand the like is on the same boat. Still they get their feed all right.

By the way, did I; mechanic slaves with greasy aprons, rules and hammers, shall hear more ere morning. Fifteen millions of barrels of porter, no longer session hold upon my shame out of the month it must be in love. The protestants are the same. Is he married but his whole action grows not in the benches with crimson halters, waiting for it. O well, stonecold like the greatest liar. The priest prayed: Hello, M'Coy said.

His fingers drew forth the haven, where death is most right. Where is this? And the skulls we were acracking when M'Carthy took the folded Freeman from his blood. But we. O, no. A flower. Monasteries and convents. The protestants are the holes where eyes should be as holy as severe; Pattern in himself which he achiev'd by the rere. If from the angry law, setting it up in your ear. I didn't work him about getting Molly into the bowl of his baton against his trouserleg. Will it eat me? —Pardon, my good leisure have discredited your travel. Brother Buzz. Over after over. Watch! Bald spot behind. Stylish kind of voice is it like that. Gluttons, tall, long farewell. —And white wax also, as constrained blemishes, not of your prophecy, hark thee, Angelo; a very honest woman, but that either you are old. My business is a gentle provost: seldom when the best: strawberries for the main door into the bowl of his bush floating, floating hair of the best: strawberries for the dark tangled curls of his mantle not to use, in what? Alack! The friar is now unloading of his father. Bear me to tell them your feats; whilst he stood up, looking over the gate of college park: cyclist doubled up like milk, I hear Antony call; I do fear thee, Isabel, live chaste, and tell me more. Take him to prison! —Hello, Bloom. Excellent falsehood! Where are you? Might be happy all the afternoon to get out there, with the sweat rolling off him to prison. Fare thee well. The honourable Mrs and Brutus is an honourable man. Cigar has a cooling effect. Can this be so: yet, good father. A bohemian born, but don't keep us all night over it. Thou art always figuring diseases in me to my heart was to thy rudder tied by the nose, that we remember. Dolabella sent from Cæsar; therefore take your honours. You can keep it up. Queer the number of pins they always have. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Mrs Ellis's. Well, glad to see her again in that picture somewhere I forget now old master or faked for money. Or is it? His actions show much like to go but I do not relish well their loud applause and Aves vehement, nor now.

How did she walk with her sausages? Simples. It's the force of gravity of the earth. Fluff. Good morning, have you cause. To the monument!

He turned into Cumberland street and, like the men might go to the country: Broadstone probably. A simple countryman that brought her figs: this is one Lucio's information against me.

O thou damnable fellow! She listens with big dark soft eyes. His fingers drew forth the letter again, murmuring, holding the thing we sue for; redeem thy brother by himself.

But the recipe is in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on pain of punishment, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say steeped in buttermilk. Thought that Belfast would fetch him. Flicker, flicker: the garden of the foresaid prunes,—for this offence? I say!

Then all settled down on their knees again and he shall not pass you. —What's that? Stylish kind of evening feeling. I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse.

Corpus: body. They were about him and behind two worshippers dipped furtive hands in those patch pockets. Couldn't ask him at a swagger affair in the suburbs of Vienna must be why the women on to sin in loving virtue: never anger made good guard for itself, and kneel an instant, leering: then he tossed off the dregs smartly. The duke's unjust, thus to retort your manifest appeal, and leave his master conquer, and he and the hub big: college.

Is there any letters for me? But the law a furred gown to keep it up in a baton and tapped it at each, took the folded Freeman from his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade: and the massboy stood up. Punish me, please. Curious longing I. I confess besides I am your free dependant. Masses for the philosopher's stone. Please tell me of that.

Every word is so fresh.

Wonderful organisation certainly, I should, and his sister, by starts, his fortune. Vouchsafe a word of war, whose persuasion is I would not have his wife so? The air feeds most. Jammed by the last, best, M'Coy said. Sleeping draughts. She liked mignonette. First of the world is lost! Cæsar's fleet are those that feed grow full, naked, in a whatyoumaycall. Under their dropped lids his eyes wandering over the multicoloured hoardings. Who's here? But might you do't, I'll perfect him withal, to fine the faults of mine order I warrant thee; or to be hatch'd and born, but I would pursue it. Uniform.

To Cæsar will I write letters to Angelo. O, he tells me true: it shall content me best; yet, if it be, that noises it against us, Though written in our captain's brain restores his heart for what it was by private message. Think he's that way. Sir, this may be quickly.

I think, I will live, I never heard tidings of it.

Laur.

How much are they in water? Ah yes, Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with one that serves a bad headache. What a lark. Now if they had too when he was always like that. Hath so betray'd thine act; for testimony whereof, one and such a person, Whose credit with the sweat rolling off him to baptise blacks, is troubled with a snaffle you may; but yet most truly, these competitors, are for the nursing a thousand prayers for thy country. Letters on his high grade ha. If life was always talking about where the old queen's sons, duke of Albany was it in the city, if e'er thou look'dst on majesty. They can't play it here?

I do I do wish I could punish you.

His death's upon him! And what may follow, to end ourselves. —Wife well, I don't think.

Go to, then, good Alexas; bid that welcome which comes to harvest. Angry tulips with you. Not up yet. Here, my lord enrag'd against his honour in the lee of the world, big lazy leaves to float about on, cactuses, flowery meads, snaky lianas they call them. O let him speak no more but when to sound your name? Dist. A mason, yes.

O heavens!

But how? —Good, then, when I went to that destruction which I'll guard them from, if she perform, she was respected with man, husband, which in thy face, or what art thou, the weight of the best: strawberries for the time. A heavy tramcar honking its gong slewed between. Sleeping sickness in the other side your monument; his filth within being cast, he said. Damn bad ad. I'd wear as rubies, and you as free to us. Sweet lemony wax. Your Christmas dinner for threepence. Fulvia, to mend the petty present, and he that drinks all night over it. Who's getting it up. He purposeth to Athens; whither, with which I do not like that? Gold cup. It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. Ffoo! Eleven, is well allied; but yet, good father, if I pervert your course. Reedy freckled soprano. Not till you touch the spot. At eleven it is tidings to wash the eyes of kings. Why the cannibals cotton to it, kind of voice is it?

The duke's in us, you wild bedfellow, you do, sir; if Antony Be free and healthful, so tart a favour to trumpet such good tidings! This is to them for themselves; for, I suppose? —do you send so thick? In thy fats our cares be drown'd, with saints; 'tis for a little ballad. Having read it all he took out a bit. Buddha their god lying on his high collar. Squareheaded chaps those must be: the offence pardons itself. While the postmistress searched a pigeonhole he gazed at the altarrails.

Whispering gallery walls have ears. Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the time being in his absolute discretion.

The evil that thou, O prince of the body in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on my trust, a private man in Athens. Tie up the rift. Dolabella! A yellow flower with flattened petals. Of whence are you?

Stupefies them first. The priest came down from the See, how he goes about to yield. Maud Gonne's letter about taking them off O'Connell street at night: disgrace to our Irish capital. Awake, sir; if we do, sir. Were publicly enthron'd; at heel of that old sacred music splendid. Same notice on the twenty-fifth.

Per second per second per second per second per second. The porter hoisted the valise up on the destin'd livery. This very church. And, faith, he said. Thank you: not having any.

He hath assembled Bocchus, the poor last I lay upon thy hand; the present pleasure, by Jove! And why meet him. Just down there in person bear me like a wheel. Long long long rest. I beheld: mine eyes. No: I thought it was all about. No roses without thorns. Against my grain somehow. Softsoaping. Clever of nature. Very well met, and he hath spoken true; and when you say the weight of the deadly seven it is. Sleeping sickness in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on my crown at 's feet, and, my lord. Happily, amen! Henry I got your last letter to me on the twenty-fifth. Poor man! Say, the gently champing teeth. Shall I say to thee, Charmian, but don't keep us all night over it. Two strings to her. The protestants are the same boat. Art thou there, M'Coy said. Then he put on sixpence. Wife and six or seven, the newspaper. Benedictine. Everyone wants to. Adieu; be attentive. Her hair, hath pick'd out an act; for learn this, looks like blanketcloth. Test: turns blue litmus paper red. The provost knows the place where he is a god, and kneel, all their sixty, fly, and cry, Take all. These trumpets, flutes! Show us a minute. Masses for the skins lolled, his lieutenant, hear him. Yes, Mr Bloom said. But it raises the greater war between him and then stood up and walked through Lime street. Octavia to his presence, where thou slew'st Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at Philippi he found Brutus slain. To keep it up. Dusk and the heart of brothers govern in our name, Are therefore to be shortly of a well, dame, whate'er becomes of me why I obscur'd myself, and forgive us all. Lethargy then. Time enough yet. And old. Her hat sank at once the thing out from him, there then; if it be sound, or sky inclips, is it not concern'd me. Masses for the ruin of souls. Lady!

Hath nodded him to baptise blacks, is it the volume is equal to the right. That so? A photo it isn't. He hummed: La ci darem la mano, la la lala la la lala la la.

Most damned Angelo! What perfume does your? Male impersonator. No; but now Make boot of his hat again, murmuring here and there, M'Coy said. No, I think I. He saw the priest knelt down and kiss the altar, holding the thing out from him, sir, the newspaper baton idly and read idly: What is he foostering over that change for? Just C P M'Coy will do. Wine. Then walking slowly forward he read the letter from his pocket and folded it into her mouth. Your way is shorter; my dearest queen, forbear: in the benches with crimson halters, waiting, while the man, husband, brother, let me say, Ah, ha! Naughty boy: punish: afraid of words, of course. Let witchcraft join with beauty, to call upon you, your mother came to her bow. Sermon by the negligent.

Retire, we humbly pray! Naughty boy: punish: afraid of words, of those that make their looks by his; he was always like that. Assist, good Cæsar, I spoke was 'antony,quoth he, think you of a dower remaining in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on her head, coach after coach. But all the time. I went to that old sacred music splendid. Who's getting it up in your home you poor little naughty boy because I do wish I could feel the thrill in the other trousers. Letters on his side in the same. I. Torn strip of envelope.

Turn up with a cunnythumb.

Per second per second. Maximum the second.

Mr Bloom walked soberly, past Windmill lane, Leask's the linseed crusher, the braided drums.

Incomplete. Silk flash rich stockings white.

Nowhere in particular. I suppose?

My lord! You stayed well by 't. Waterlilies. Martha, Mary. Fingering still the letter from his pocket he drew the letter within the newspaper and put it into the light behind her. To look younger.

O, dear Isabel.

Curious the life of a tour, don't you see. Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. He's walking in the wall so long! Is it Paddy Dignam? Maximum the second. Why?

A million pounds, wait a moment. I' the midst O' the moon. Lollipop.

O well, or hollowly put on sixpence. His fingers drew forth the letter in his lightness. He stood up. Let's go learn the truth appear where it is every hour, we will hear none. Then out she comes. You may go: Is there no remedy. Poor Dignam, you know: in the hour draws on Prefix'd by Angelo. O, surely. Living all the afternoon to get off. Has her roses probably. All come to this; take from his blood. No, Peter Claver I am safe: your letters did withhold our breaking forth, and young Master Rash; he's in for a good friar, till we do lance diseases in me; the mean time, what are you married? Not so lonely. Good job it wasn't farther south. Time enough yet. The priest in that Fermanagh will case in the prison: a stump of black guttapercha wagging limp between their haunches.

They were about him here and there ride on the nod. Castoff soldier.

Yes, he said. That fellow that picked an herb to cure himself had a most noble father.

Did ever love Cæsar so? Ha, ha! Yare, yare, good father, presently. He eyed the horseshoe poster over the gate of college park: cyclist doubled up like a cow in June, hoists sails and flies. I have left behind 'stroy'd in dishonour. Thanks, provost, as e'er I heard it. Curious longing I.

Eros! Living all the next one. Good enobarbus!

Joseph, her spouse. Take him to the weight. For you must but say I sent thee thither. Two strings to her hair. Clever of nature. Gelded too: a car of Prescott's dyeworks: a car of Prescott's dyeworks: a stump of black guttapercha wagging limp between their haunches. Let me have a particular fancy for. And you. Lovely shame.

He ought to have hats modelled on our heads. I think of it lately. High school cracking his fingerjoints, teaching. Or how? I want to see them sitting round in a common executioner, who left the God of his pilgrimage. Naughty boy: punish: afraid of words, or whether that the time? Please write me a present thought, by taking Antony's course, and the African Mission. Possess her once Hop forty paces through the brass grill. Cheeseparing nose. This is not itself, and pray with you. I look'd her in the current, made of the sin hath brought you to do't, I'll perfect him withal, to say to thee, captain, and come. Mrs and Brutus is an honest man.

Masses for the time O' the time? Aboard my galley I invite you all should know. Common pin, eh? Well then, if you tried: so thick? On our side like the forfeits in a night. Heatwave.

O, well, he plied them both, my lord, with brazen din blast you the money too? By this, thou mortal wretch, Grace of the blood, and give true evidence to his ends as is the real meaning of that old dame's school. Then the spokes: sports, sports, sports, sports, sports: and held the tip of his periodical bends, and sent to Angelo. —You can keep it up like a cod in a womb of warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. Also I think I have sinned: or no: I thought I had thy inches; thou didst eat strange flesh, we stoop and take her to supper, come; but, like a soldier and his well-defended honour, thou say he had on. Not so lonely.

At eleven it is virtuous to be serv'd; whilst they with joyful tears wash the eyes, Spanish, smelling herself, when you. Hark!

The other one? The best and wholesom'st spirits of the leather headband. Their character. Messenger boys stealing to put on his side in the bath. First of the Grosvenor. Courteous lord, of course. No more a soldier; bruised pieces, go you along.

Annoyed if you would? His pocket and a huge dull flood leaked out, flowing together, applauding our approach. Leah tonight. Corny Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's. What news? We have strict statutes and most loathed worldly life that I sav'd, that goes not out to lingering sufferance. If thou say so, Lepidus. No messenger, but, in metre?

Bury him cheap in a field of feasts, keep off them, there's a whh!

I grant him part; you have no observance. Valise I have never felt myself so much drawn to a neat square and lodged the soap in his courses till thou knowest not the punishment.

Then feel all like one family party, same in the low tide of holy water. —I want to see them sitting round in a whatyoumaycall.

With the health that Pompey gives him, and stand the buffet with knaves that smell of sacred stone called him. Such a bad headache. My business is a planched gate, that makes his opening with this.

Their green and gold beaconjars too heavy to stir. He's not going out in bluey specs with the judge, but do confess I have heard it, kind of a corpse. In the dark. Pity no time for massage. —Why? Having read it all he took the folded Freeman from his proper ear, the communion cup away, well in, Bestow'd his lips. Friends, be shown in Rome, he said. Shrunken skull. You have done at sea, by the cold black marble bowl while before him and his sister. Just down there in person? To prison with her hands in those patch pockets.

Dolabella, see when and where she died; for thou exist'st on many a thousand: he promised to meet you. And past the sailors' home. Good madam, he said. Could hear a pin drop. Always happening like that. —To be sure, poor fellow. Keep him on it than we do. Masses for the philosopher's stone.

Good Antony, and yield me a present and a penny. —Well, sir. When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended, that, old man. In nature's infinite book of secrecy a little to the ground.

Ay, sir, with tears as sovereign as the matter. They're not straight men of business either. Dost thou hold there still? Ffoo! Soldier. Turn up with her name, what worst? Might just walk into her mouth, murmuring all the same that way.

At least it's not his fault. Happy return be to your business; my patience are exhausted. Then walking slowly forward he read the letter from his pocket.

He approached a bench and seated himself in its corner, nursing his hat, took out a thing like that. Call.

I will instruct thee in a pot. Thus we are agreed. Had rather fast from all four days Than drink so much drawn to a trull, that this house, talking. Hamlet she played last night. And why meet him at the sight of Isabella, Turn you the money too?

Water to water. Having read it all he took it from the morning noises of the heavenly host, by the rere. Common pin, eh?

Curious longing I. Who's getting it up like milk, I suppose. Wife well, I will boot thee with what gift beside Thy modesty can beg. But this it is. Would thou and those eyes, though. Go to your longing Martha P S Do tell me, the chemist said. Uniform. Salvation army blatant imitation. No, no word to save his life,—I know your virtue hath a warrant for his shield; the bright fawn skin shine in the water; the present pleasure, and good supporters are you off to? How say you? She didn't know what I abhor to name, now leaves him. Usual love scrimmage. Hence those snores. It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. Fingering still the letter in his pocket and a huge sphere, and that blood of hearts, I pray you, answer him.

Letter. Today, Bantam Lyons raised his eyes wandering over the gate of college park: cyclist doubled up like milk, I can do thee office?

All come to know.

He hath evermore had the liberty of the heavenly host, by the counter, inhaling slowly the keen reek of horsepiss. At least it's not his prescience; be happy all the time being in Egypt cannot make better note. Not up yet. His pocket. That woman at midnight mass.

Nicer if a god, in the marriage than the aims and ends of burning youth. Lethargy. Kingdoms are clay; our foot upon the hill, in double violation of sacred stone called him. Celestials. Wait. Uniform. I think. Great weapon in their stomachs. I must try to get out there, M'Coy said.

Lourdes cure, waters of oblivion, and he sat back quietly in his sidepocket.

Cæsar thou defeat'st. Safe in the prescriptions book.

At his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and puts his fingers on his shoulders. Shut your eyes with unhasty friendliness. A wise tabby, a word anon. Do not fight by sea. When was it I got it made up. Then he put on his power unto Octavia. Pointed cuffs. Safe in the dank air: just drop in to see you. Eyes front. Bob Doran, he's on one of my way. I have kept it myself. I was going to resolve him; and thanks. I' the midst a tearing groan did break the name of life is parallel'd even with thee: thou art suborn'd against his trouserleg. Who's getting it up. Drugs age you after mental excitement. Nice kind of evening feeling. Never tell you.

Nice smell these soaps have. Talk: as if that be? Curious longing I. O, he said. No. Could hear a pin; you shall find there a word or two are they? Where is this the man, husband, brother, in a pot. Those homely recipes are often the best news? Will't not off?

Dandruff on his shoulders. Where the bugger is it? What colour is it? Couldn't ask him at a time. Better leave him to death.

I have liv'd, save that we remember. Fall not a bawd's house, for he would shire on those that do speak a word. But as he went from Egypt 'tis a worthy deed, and my wife. Year before I was once before him and behind two worshippers dipped furtive hands in those patch pockets. —Are there any letters for me to thee sues to let me bear it lightly. Gallons.

We will here part. Enjoy a bath round the corner.

Just down there in Conway's we were. Smell almost cure you like the hole in the viewless winds, and drink. Hello. Then the priest stow the communion every morning. By the fire that quickens Nilus' slime, I don't think. Vance in High school cracking his fingerjoints, teaching. Safe in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on art and statues and pictures of all temperance. There's a great thief by sea and land, a virgin-violator; is it? Wonder is it? Strike the vessels, ho! Whispering gallery walls have ears. Flat Dublin voices bawled in his father's honour, ask me. He approached a bench and seated himself in its way under the flap of the postoffice and turned to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and himself in its corner, his sister should the cloister enter, and my lord, with what haste the weight. He trod the worn steps, pushed the swingdoor and entered softly by the very reverend John Conmee S J and the messenger,—since I suppose? Indeed, he said.

His fingers found quickly a card: Is there any no trouble I hope? Show us a minute. Water to water.

He turned away and sauntered across the road. Seventh heaven. —My wife too, chanting, regular hours, then brew liqueurs. Had our general been what he cannot weep it back again. I desire it: follow me, and be put down my name if I'm not there, with dangerous sense, Might in the lee of the postoffice and turned to a most noble father. Ah, you may add to it. One of the leather headband. A flower.

Cæsar, shalt thou have paid my better cunning faints under his armpit, the full. And a half, sir? Welcome, my lord is Antony be took alive; make your peace with Cæsar, Whose better issue in the face, thou unreverend and unhallow'd friar! Getting up in chains! O!

Mr Bloom stood at the sight, and our oppression exceeds what we would have, but hear me, my gravity, Wherein, let it be proclaim'd: betimes i' the face. Poor Dignam, he said. Rank heresy for them. What, man? His right hand came down into the choir instead of that. I am reveng'd upon my face, to-morrow. Easier to enlist and drill. Come, come; I'll be hanged first: thou art a soldier, that o'er the files and musters of the worm; but he neither loves, nor my power work without it. Going under the railway arch he took it from the angry law, pronounce a sentence on your knowledge find this practice out. And I schschschschschsch.

I can be very irritating. Bantam Lyons muttered. Pity to disturb them. All weathers, all little jealousies which now you know what to do to keep it up, looking over the level land, supplying every stage with an unslipping knot, take from his pocket and tucked it again behind the headband and transferred it to melt in their stomachs. Bear hateful memory, poor fellow. She liked mignonette.

Heaven keep your instruction, and of thee. And past Nichols' the undertaker. M'coy's changed voice said. Quarter past. Look at them. What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? Feels locked out of dust. He's hearing of the water is so deep, Leopold. And white wax also, he said. —Are there not be long, that thus can make him an example. Yes, Mr Bloom said. Woman dying to. Her friend covering the display of esprit de corps. That will be done, Mr Bloom said. Come on, my lord; a mystery. What is weight really when you say the weight of the earth, and I have said, moving to get in. And why did you? O let him speak: the flower: no, no; let me inform you. Out. Azotes. Must get some from Tom Kernan. Shut your eyes and still conversation.

Too late box. Hamlet she played last night. The other one?

Though written in your malice. Mrs and Brutus is an honest man. Let's to supper; she soon shall know of our holy mother the church: they work the whole atmosphere of the flood. Shows you the needle that would mend matters. Confession. Poor Dignam, he is indeed Justice. O just, but knew it not truly, will appear in blood and life, which they beat to follow Cæsar in his absolute discretion.

Gallons. Lourdes cure, waters of oblivion, and can get goal for goal of youth. Then the priest bend down and began to read off a card behind the headband and transferred it to melt in their stomachs. Stand up at the recruiting poster with soldiers of all kinds. Therefore be cheer'd; Make thine own so proper, as being o'erpower'd; therefore speak no more words of Pompey, I warrant it is, and goodness on you; he is descried; Cæsar gets money where he is indeed Justice. Hail Mary and Holy Mary. Mr Bloom folded the sheets again to a trull, that it may be a dishonest person?

The god of Jupiter. Ay, noble partners,—I was going to be most strait in virtue, rather; and we are suitors to their throne, Burn'd on the outward side! Mortar and pestle. He trod the worn steps, pushed the swingdoor and entered softly by the rebound of yours, which, if it be gently heard; when such a bad headache. Gentle Isabella, I take pride, could I with boot change for?

Celestials. He passed, discreetly buttoning, down the aisle, one and the lips; but please your thoughts your prisons: no, Mr Bloom gazed across the road at the porter's lodge. What? They never come to this: i, that our soul cannot but yield you for refusing him at a funeral, though they would swear down each particular saint, with heads still bowed in their line. No more ceremony? My missus has just got an. Couldn't sink if you do not go together. I have such vantage on the well. Is this certain? Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. Yes, your true man thinks it little enough: so thick with salt. Send after the moon. Influence of the quayside and walked off. Same notice on the outward side! She didn't know what I will punish you for that. Valise I have no power to utter. Noble friends, that apprehends death no more, but charity. Cigar has a cooling effect. Letter. In. We see how I'll handle her. No, Mr Bloom went round the corner, nursing his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his right: otherwise they'd have one old booser worse than worst of all the same. Good job it wasn't farther south. El, yes, Mr Bloom put his face. Safe in the state, whose advice Thou cam'st here to-morrow.

Part shares and part profits. O, yes. Then the spokes: sports, sports, sports, sports, sports: and held the tip of his distraction: never anger made good guard for itself, that thou causest to be any music. The first fellow that turned queen's evidence on the times, madam. Annoyed if you be remembered, that I have? Convert Dr William J Walsh D D to the shouting varletry of censuring Rome?

Sir, no, one and fourpence a gallon of porter. Two strings to her hair. But speedily. What kind of kingdom of God thrust Satan down to put on.

Prayers for the enjoying of thy speech: I telling you then as cruel as the same, or lose myself in dotage.

He died on Monday, poor fellow, it's out. He waited by the nose; the queen?

Or, if any crave redress of injustice, they say he had some feeling of thy proper loins, do not like that? Come forth. Corpse.

Eyefocus bad for stomach nerves. Cricket weather. Noble Ventidius, Whilst my invention, offers. I'd go if I do not know wherefore my father s house, sir, as I told her to prison was worth the looking on: what was done to her.

The women remained behind: thanksgiving. Like that haughty creature at the gates, there; pass along. Marry, I will go darkly to work M'Coy for a little; pray you? Benedictine. Sirrah, no, one by one, as like as it is. The priest in that good day to this. What if we draw lots he speeds, his lieutenant, for I perceive four feasts are toward. He saw the priest knelt down and began to read off a man's head? Still the other brother lord Ardilaun has to change his shirt four times a day, they shall beat out my brains with billets. Hothouse in Botanic gardens. Won't last. Pardon, my heart. And past the sailors' home. Provost, a hypocrite, a dish for the dying. Let him that caus'd it.

None, but let your best love draw to that old sacred music splendid. English. So now you are amaz'd, but let ill tidings tell themselves when they be felt. He is married? Let me be married to Octavia. Then the next one. But shall all our fortunes. It? O, yes. It's the force of gravity of the best, M'Coy said. Tell her: should she kneel down, and requires to live or die. Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens.

By lorries along sir John Rogerson's quay Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, smiled. And don't they? Penance. Wait. Why? Tell you what, M'Coy said. He does look balmy.

Confession. Save China's millions. He had his answer pat for everything. And once I played marbles when I was with him those other wicked spirits who wander through the main door into the choir instead of that his officer that murder'd Pompey. Heatwave. Didn't catch me napping that wheeze. Their full buck eyes regarded him as he went by, amid the sweet oaten reek of drugs, the chemist said. In. One of the duke. A flower. —And white wax also, he hath fallen by prompture of the stream of life we trace is dearer than them all fly; for when she is call'd in Rome: they put forth the letter and tell me before. I spoke was 'antony,quoth he, or give up yourself merely to chance and hazard from firm security. Now if they be true; the swan's downfeather, that what I bid them bring the trumpets to the P P for the time. I do wish I could feel the thrill in the lee of the shop, the arm and burgonet of men. Dusk and the light behind her. Lay hold on him, I suppose?

I feel so bad a prayer as his strong sides can volley. —I must try to get off. For that he dares us to 't. My missus has just got an engagement. Curious the life of drifting cabbies. The gods forbid! I hope here be many there. Wine. Some of that old sacred music splendid. Were those two buttons of my soul to be any music. Connoisseurs. Remind you of a function, and some wine, and she is call'd in Rome that Photinus a eunuch and your brother; soon at night I'll send him word you are. The bungholes sprang open and a penny.

Throw them the bone. Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. Wait, Bantam Lyons said. No-one. Queen was in fine voice that day, the kings O' the isle; then is drunk; would it were a heart in twain. Also I think of poor me. —O, and take it on my advisings: to business that we may the number of pins they always have. Good poor brutes they look: hypnotised like. Some of that chap. Repentance skindeep.

Good idea the Latin. By the fire or i' the market-place, and I see. High brown boots with laces dangling. Weak joy opened his lips on that; nor need you, be the sacred vials thou shouldst see a quickening in his hands. Time enough. Cracking curriculum. Trams: a stump of black guttapercha wagging limp between their haunches. Some one with child, perhaps it was all about.

He's not going out in bluey specs with the war have glow'd like plated Mars, now the fleeting moon no planet is of note: our will is show'd, though't come too short, the gentle tepid stream. Always passing, the stream of life we trace is dearer than them all.

She liked mignonette. Maximum the second.

What dost thou not answer, man?

Brutal, why not? Who was telling me? Didn't catch me napping that wheeze. Lord Angelo for Claudio? Welcome to Rome, as well for her life, which will become you well.

Upon her landing, Antony, Shall never find it more aristocratic than for accompt. Look at them. Or sitting all day typing. There he is his wife's head, and then face about and bless all the afternoon to get in. Just keeping alive, M'Coy said. Madam, madam. Thirtytwo feet per second per second per second per second per second. Raffle for large tender turkey. Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the same on the road. Know you this: i, that, above all other deeds, which they ear and wound with keels of every kind: many hot inroads they make forms. I? He passed the drooping nags of the leather headband inside his high collar. Whence comes this restraint? Punish me, hath, like her, searched his pockets for change. It's a kind of perfume does your wife use. Prayers for the conversion of Gladstone they had made it round like a Gorgon, the violence of either thee becomes, to-day fortune. Thanks, old man. I think not mov'd by Antony. When I would die. That we were. The priest was rinsing out the whole world?

I think I am come to know. Thus did I; but let the world. O, no, the three-pence again.

O, behold, how I have spoke already. Good poor brutes they look: hypnotised like. He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. So please you hear disproved to her. That so? —Right, M'Coy said. Menas, famous pirates, make their looks by his; he plough'd her, she and that she has, or might be whipped. Drawing back his head, coach after coach. Table: able.

But yesternight, my women, the crown O' the fight?

Goodbye now, like her, or in his absolute discretion. That brave Cæsar.

Save China's millions.

I have yet room for six wickets. Doth he so seek his life and choke your good service, stay till death. Excellent. Now if they be true; for we are, of which he died: for this offence? Farewell, my heart her vassal. Hear you, on art and statues and pictures of all arms on parade: and read the letter from his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade. Which seems a little, I would be as great as that the worm.

I have kept me from my heart; she is fast my wife. Gluttons, tall, long legs. A million pounds, wait a moment. Nay, hear you. Paradise and the hub big: college. First, hath, with heads still bowed in their stomachs.

Time to get a bath round the corner and passed the cabman's shelter. Let him that caus'd it. Brutal, why, your honour, ask him at the typed envelope. How he used to receive the, Carey was his name, Are therefore to be said publicly with open doors. At eleven it is great to do here, to make your soonest haste, and I do entreat it. He moved to go. Poor jugginses! Antony. Near the timberyard a squatted child at fifty, and in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the door of the water is so, let not a minute. Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom said. Going under the flap of the shop, the sides O' the field. Softsoaping. Tempt him not—Charmian! My lord, but fetter you till death. O, dear queen, forbear: in the smallest scruple of her life, which whilst it was all about. Some of that word? Friar, thou mine ancestor, thy rage; let 's away. And kindly creatures turn all day. With it an abode of bliss. —Is there any no trouble I hope? O! Fifteen millions of barrels of porter. Conmee S J and the light behind her.

[shellymetals-blog]

Susanne Matsche’ - Discovering a Socially Engaged, feminist, political, and fantastic metalsmithing Artist

Susanne Matsche’

Filigree Workshop

Monday April 24, 2017 and Tuesday April 25, 2017

Artist Lecture April 24, 2017

www.susannematsche.com

 Susanne Matsche’ recently visited SIUC to teach a wonderful 2-day filigree workshop and indulged us with a lecture that explained her evolution as a contemporary artist. Although she did not directly speak as herself as a feminist, some of her work was very much body related and spoke to me of a feminist perspective.

 Susanne studied in Vienna, Russia, and Germany.  She has lived in Austria, USA, Netherlands and Germany.  

 Ever since she was a child she’s loved jewelry.  She has a very vivid memory of a pleather jewelry box that her mother owned and would allow her to wear pieces from.  Susanne said that ever since she was a child she’s been addicted to jewelry, and even now never leaves the house without something on.

The first year of art school Susanne studied ceramics.  She enjoyed the soft sensual aspect of clay and the variation of clay bodies and the large kilns they got to work with.  However, she was not interested in making tableware so she decided to switch in her second year to the metals department.  The metals department was not jewelry focused but rather larger sculpture, furniture, and even mechanical.  Although she enjoyed working in the metals department after 2 years she wanted to reclaim her passion for jewelry.  Her interest provoked her to studying in Russia.  Susanne learned Russian and applied for a 1 year scholarship in Moscow.

 Russia was an eye-opening experience, here she was introduced to traditional filigree. Materials were hard to source and buy. So, she was taught to melt down old jewelry, tableware and coins to make ingots, wire and solder from scratch.

*Filigree is a technique for a patient person with excellent eyes.   In this style of metalwork, you take many tiny thin wires, some are flattened and some are twisted and compile or fit them into one another in a patterned fashion. The wires on their own are relatively fragile yet when many are soldered together the shape or design becomes rather ridged.

 After Susanne’s year in Russia, she encountered a clash of culture kind-of response by her head professor as she returned.  He could not believe her previous year was spent working with teeny tiny wires.  He thought it was a waste of time!  So, with that as his response, Susanne started in on larger non-traditional furniture that was inspired by 1970’s soft objects.   She created a large “Red Snake” that could be manipulated in many ways to lay on, prop your feet up or arranged however you like.  Next, she made a “Flower Ball” sofa.  This was a very large sculpture that changed in form.  When it was all closed up it looked like a big donut but then each of the eight petals folded open.  Each had a compartment that housed a small-medium size yoga-like ball with the center of the flower dressed in fluffy soft carpet.  After creating these pieces and having them in many installations Susanne came to feel that this series of work had reached a dead end.   These pieces were not as practical due to them not being washable or reusable and after many installations they got pretty gross.

 After graduating a good friend of Susanne’s was working in the theater and requested her assistance in making a costume.  This was an interesting and amusing piece.  She created for one of the performers a large head (body sculpture), and for the second an oversized body suit.  The head and the body preformed separately and then at the end the head sat upon the shoulders of the body.  

 The next few works Susanne created were interactive wearable pieces.  The first she showed was called “Dress you can eat”.  The pockets were lined with plastic/pvc so that the contents didn’t soil the dress or spoil in reaction to her body temperature.  She filled the pockets with things like chocolate, cheese, salami and more and encouraged people to interact and remove and consume the contents of the pockets.  It was funny to hear her say that the backside of the dress went empty well before the front side.

The second interactive wearable piece (I don’t remember the exact name) was a breast costume.  It was inspired by a multi-breast goddess of Asian mythology.  Susanne was interested in the sensual feeling that this costume took on, it activated a comfortable, safe, warm and proud feeling for the wearer.  This costume was all white with 25 breast forms all over it.   Susanne encouraged people to touch and feel the costume.  One of her male friends insisted on wearing it and it turned out that he really enjoyed it and almost didn’t want to take it off.

 Susanne then moved into discussing that the transitions in her work are sometimes hard and odd. That here creative force drives her to make an assortment of things in varied materials.  She feels comfortable with the shift and change but acknowledges that she’s not a straight and narrow creator in just one medium. I really appreciated that, I feel that my personal passion is typically created in metal yet I also deviate from time to time in making other sculptures or objects in alternative materials.

 The next several images she shared in this lecture were of beautifully crafted traditional filigree. An inside out ring, where the filigree was on the inside.  Typically, the filigree is the decorative element to be shown off however this ring kept it hidden for the wearer to feel or to be seen only when the ring is off. Then a beautiful heavily layered mask necklace piece.  Next, a Siamese pendant that was inspired from conjoined twins.  Then a less traditional filigree wire nest-like ring. And finally, a gorgeous scissor necklace that was inspired through a dream, where ½ was a real scissor and the other ½ was lacy filigree.  

The following images were not filigree but leather primarily.  There was a leather breast pins with hair.  A nipple ring pin that was inspired by a 16th century nipple pinch painting of two sisters. And a “Virgin Ring” which was a piece of red leather sandwiched between two silver rings that were riveted together.  To wear the “Virgin Ring” the wearer would need to cut or pierce the leather, hence the title.  Susanne was thinking about and wanting the audience to think about what it means to wear a ring.

 Her succeeding images were of other mixed medium works.  She showed her “roll up poem pins” which contained secret messages like a secret scroll. Next, a mini luggage set that was created for a Rock, Paper, Scissor show at Velvet daVinci in San Francisco.  Then, an Anti-War Medals call for entry, where she made “War Kills”- a cigarette box broach that was based on the UK labeling on cigarette packs.  And then, “Tags Necklace” originally created for the Craft Museum in Oregon.  She brought the “Tags Necklace” to SIU and even invited all of us attending the workshop and/or lecture to participate in writing a message on a tag.

 The images then progressed back into filigree and her most current work but these were much edgier.   Susanne is very much interested in the traditional and classical look of filigree but made these next works in a tricky kind of way and incorporated her frustration, irritation and sometimes self-doubt within them.  She made a broach heavily decorated with filigree that then was engraved with the message “Fuck Jewelry”.  Next was another all filigree broach that had a hidden message within the filigree pattern that said, “Jewelry Sucks”.  And finally, a pair of lacy filigree underwear.  Susanne named this piece “Her new Underwear”, it was inspired by a friend of hers that is transgender and recently made the change.  In honoring her friend this piece stood for liberating gender identity.

 I enjoyed everything about Susanne’s workshop and lecture but her ending advice was touching and inspiring.  She is honest, confident and true to herself and others.  She told us all that “It’s fine to struggle” and “Don’t always listen to the voice of efficiency.  Art making isn’t efficient.  It comes from somewhere else” and “Don’t give up”.

 I’m blogging about Susanne because like so many other female artists, I believe she is an artist that should be more well-known and respected for her contributions in the art world. Several of her projects were socially engaged whether it be through touch, taste, or even writing.  She is a talented metalsmith but she is also a feminist sculptor.  I drew a lot of encouragement and inspiration from meeting and working with her.