#she has very little lore as of right now but the ideas are brewing

[winniebell]

before and after (picrew)

[splashskitty]

Hooiiiiiiiooooo it's me again with a new character!!!!! Which also means more lore time!!!! AKA lore part 5

This is Stella Salvia She/her age unown birthday also unknown she's an adult at least that's all she knows.

she is from the grim reaper AU and she is a grim reaper like Nerium she also watches over the in between heaven and hell to make sure souls go to the right places/they don't get stuck like she did.

The idea of her / thought of her was what reaper Nerium became I finally figured I could add more grim reapers and reuse the design cuz it was always brewing in the back of my head and I thought I may as well make another one.

She's supposed to be the opposite of Nerium kind of where Nerium doesn't care about people is cold-hearted and finds it fun to kill people Stella is strongly emotional and finds causing people any pain hurtful she also has a sword instead of a scythe like a normal grim reaper she's a ghost with no memories of her past she's kind hearted loves every living creature and tries to do what's best for everyone even when she has to Mercy kill them

I also realize I forgot to tell how Nerium became a grim reaper in the first place so when the god of death noticed she was killing too many people and knowing she'd be hard to just straight up stop he struck a deal that she would be able to kill only the people that were going to die anyway as long as she reap their souls she agreed making her a grim reaper he gave her the ability to sense death so that could do her job at least that's how Nerium became a grim reaper

Now for how Stella became one she was stuck between life and death in a void of nothingness the god of death told her he would only let her out if she became a grim reaper because they needed more grim reapers she disagreed at first so he left her alone being alone for so long made her begin to lose her mind little by little until she finally agreed.

She friends with Colocasia and Iris she mostly keeps them out of trouble because both of them love to cause chaos so much and she mostly prefers balance she lets them cause some chaos but she doesn't like seeing them hurt things she's a very sensitive little grim reaper.

She's also kind of friends with spider Lily but only in the way of going to parties and getting drunk together she doesn't really like that spider Lily eats people but they always go to each other for advice for pretty much anything they love helping each other they have a very sisterly Bond honestly.

Her dress is supposed to be lolita dresses I'm just not very good at drawing dresses and yes she has a crown she's probably not royalty though with her amnesia I guess she wouldn't know if she was

She does have powers like Nerium being able to sense death of course and when she touches living things they do die her sword also has poison in it so that if she has to kill something it's quick I may or may not give her other abilities later but those are the ones she has for sure.

And that's about it for Stella Salvia I hope you like her she's been brewing in my head for a long time now and I think she turned out quite well if there's any spelling mistakes no there's not I'm dyslexic <3

[warywind]

Dergtober 19-24

I've fallen behind, oops.

Day 19, Lair, is the first day I missed the day of, and I guess I’m making up for it with something complicated. Instead of attempting a seriously complex landscape that would be the Grotto, I decided to make a (still very rough) comic strip of how the Grotto is hard to find thanks to an enchantment on it. Here Aella, Cadmus, and company are bringing a new friend home, to poor Caesura’s increasing confusion as the enchantment takes effect. They should be alright so long as they stick close to members that are sending good vibes their way, but if they tried this on their own they’d get pretty hopelessly lost.

The dialogue: 1. CAESURA - Are you sure this is the right way? I’m getting this strange feeling I should turn back. 2. AELLA - Oh, we’re fine. We’re getting pretty close now. 3. CAESURA - But I don’t… see anything. 4. AELLA - Don’t you know? The plateaus are full of rises and valleys and corners hidden away. It’s like poetry. 5. AELLA - You need to look carefully to see the full beauty of it. 6. AELLA - Just stick close to us and don’t try this on your own, yeah? That could go badly. 7. CAESURA - ???

Day 20: Weaver, featuring Aletheia because she's the only dragon so far with the weaver gene (I literally started brewing it on the 20th), and because it suits her thematically for spell-weaving and general shady, spidery vibes. She's involved in the black market and serves as a fence for the band of thieves the dragon featured in day 4, pirate, is in. She has being mysterious down to an art and loves to play minor tricks, but she's actually pretty nice in-person and doesn't involve herself in any violent crimes.

Day 21: Gloom, welp, I was teetering dangerously close to burnout (hence missing a day), and the sister in this drawing happens to be the only dragon in my lair with gloom the color, so I took the extra lazy route and added a few more lines to Day 14 along with a rough pass at her wing color. I split drawing 19 between the 20th and 21st, so there was still some new drawing going on, haha.

For Day 22: Craft, I gathered a bunch of crafdragons whose trades wouldn’t require them to stay by a forge or other equipment for an impromptu craft circle. We’ve got Gauge and his familiar Archlute (an imperial luthier who makes lutes and similar instruments for large breeds), Wisp (a tundra that makes lanterns and who I imagine started the whole idea since she isn't in the Grotto very often), Jasper (a pearlcatcher that works several trades, but primarily handmade beads), Pruino and his familiar (a tundra librarian, currently working on transcribing a book into a larger size, he’s shy enough that it would take someone like Wisp to get him to come out and hang), Deciduous and his familiar (a pearlcatcher of several trades, including woodworking and painting), and finally Deci’s mate Shiitake and her familiar Resin (a mirror that carves bones). There are enough craftsdragons around that there probably are little crafts circles all the time, but while these dragons are individually friendly, I don’t think they’re close enough to make one unless someone else (Wisp!) decides to drag them together.

Day 23: Mask, featuring Minstrel, who has the most iconic mask of my dragons. She made her feathered performer’s mask herself and hardly ever takes it off. This day officially marked my account turning 11 years old, which made me want to do something special, but at the same time I had little time and had decided this one had to be Minstrel since the start of the challenge. I‘m not fully happy with how the mask looks-- it's too short and rounded, the swirls look a little too much like an angry face, and the feathers should definitely be bigger, but there’s always time to adjust it after the challenge.

Day 24: Alchemist, featuring Amalbert teaching younger alchemist Altair a few tricks. Amalbert doesn’t have as much lore as he should for how long he’s been around; he’s what popped out of the egg I brewed when bogsneaks first released, and aside clearly being an alchemist and getting a name that teases him over how hard I found his colors to work with, he’s close to a blank slate. Very satisfying to draw, though! I haven't drawn a bogsneak in ages and I enjoy how different their shapes are from most FR dragons. Altair dabbles in a number of arcane arts, so he’s passable as an alchemist but hasn’t had the focused study that a full-time brewer would.

Day 25: Treasure brings the return of Archai and Jewel because the sliver of them in day 16 isn't enough love for them, and Archai is probably the dragon that would be most excited about finding traditional treasure. Some poor dragon with a traditional style hoard is going to wake up tomorrow and discover that some of his shiniest trinkets have disappeared without a trace. And of course Archai's hugging Jewel because she will always be his most precious treasure. I don't think I quite nailed the faces, but this drawing is a keeper and I look forward to cleaning it up after the challenge.

[aufi-creative-mind]

Slightly eldritch Link and Zelda post-totk? Like what effects does draconification have on Zelda when she returns and what effects does link have from the zonai arm?

Could be physical, could be mental, maybe both?

And if you are into linked universe, what does the chain think of this?

..... C:<

Slightly eldritch, you say? WELL...

I don't have a lot for a Post-TotK Zelda... Maybe some leftover scales on parts of her body but that's as far as I can think of.

But for Link, I have PLENTY.

Especially for a Post-TotK LU Wild.

This is gonna be a very long post so please bear with me on this one.

--

Many of the Post-TotK Wild headcanons I had were made from 2019 onwards, after the BotW2 announcement trailer. And then started to evolve and become more eldritch during the 4 year long waiting and from the breadcrumbs of info the Zelda dev team dropped prior to 2023 release.

(Most of these Post-TotK Wild headcanon have now since been debunked with the official TotK game lore. But I like to come back to them and they are being repurposed in some way with the new official TotK context).

Many of these headcanons were about Wild's creepy glowing green hand. Especially as prior to the game's release, it was never revealed who was the hand's original owner. So I had a dark theory that the Glowing Green Hand was originally the Ancient Hero's and their Hero's Spirit was used as the "Seal" on Ganondorf's corpse. Thus halting the Reincarnation Cycle and why there's a massive 10K year gap between the Ancient Hero of 10K and the Hero of the Wild's incarnations. (This is no longer the case, of course but I sometimes think about it).

--

So anyway, as for what effects the Zonai Arm may had left behind on Link.

Officially, I had an idea that the Recall ability had enhanced Link's Flurry Rush ability. Particularly the "freeze" game mechanic when Recall is activated, which allowed Link to quickly observe what's in front of him in a split second in real time. And also makes it easier for him to trigger his Flurry Rush when on the ground.

So...basically his time perspective and trigger instincts for his Flurry Rush ability have improved. Especially as I have a headcanon that Link's Flurry Rush is his Champion Ability in BotW.

--

As for Pre-Totk release / "if Link kept the Zonai Arm abilities" headcanons, I have a couple of ideas that I did experimented with. Especially with the LU Boys.

At the time, I had Post-TotK Wild to not only being older but is also rather cryptic about his TotK adventure with the reasoning that its still too raw for him to tell the rest about what happened (Especially as there was so little info about what happened at the time, other than "a sequel is in development" and "Link gets a glowing arm").

Of course, this has now changed and I am still thinking about what new experiences and abilities from TotK would Wild bring to the LU Family. Though the one definite change from the original Post-TotK headcanon is that... Wild is now 7 years older than he was in BotW. So he's now 125 years old.

Before the Zonai Arm's Abilities were revealed, I had an idea that the Glowing Arm had three abilities - dubbed "Farore's Blessings" - Wrath (rage/survival power up), Breath (ability to see spirits/soul leaking) and Spirits (animal spirits and where the Farore's Spirits originated from).

Some of these ideas may be repurposed with the official TotK ideas.

I have also done a handful of stories that explores the Farore's Blessing abilities with the LU family in the past. Including Puppet Twilight AND Fierce Deity. Especially the Fierce Deity one which was originally an early live writing story that I spotenously created in the LU main server back in 2019.

Here's the sketches I made based on that.

(Original posts: Original 2019 sketch [left], 2020 Redrawing [right])

(Original post: Dialogue Exchange comic)

I have plenty more in store! Many old Pre-TotK-release headcanons and new TotK ones that are slowly brewing in the back of my mind. But this is how much I can post for now.

Enjoy! :D

[thisiswhatwereupagainst]

Things I love about Eternals (2021) #12: - Everything about how Ajak is drawn, ESPECIALLY her biceps - Makkari touching Ajak soothing and vibrating in something akin to morse code. It’s a really neat idea, kinda sapphic, and also I’m really loving the Makkari/Ajak dynamic in this series in general and how that comes on the heels of Ajak having previously murdered Makkari out of jealous, offended faith because a Celestial chose to speak to Makkari instead of Ajak, who is the one they typically talk to and devoted thousands of years to learning their language. . . - Which leads to the other thing I love here, Ajak’s horrible revelation about the Celestials and the truth of how their cosmology is actually arranged (that the Deviants are the really important ones in the scheme of things, and the Eternals were created by the Celestials just to cull them a bit when they get out of hand so they don’t destroy themselves, rather than the Eternals being the “successful” creation of the Celestials and the Deviants the failure) and her ANGER at it, her ANGER at these gods she spent unfathomable amounts of time devoted to - Sersi being Sersi with Namor, she’s so fabulous. I also really like her speech to the Avengers, not because I agree with it but because I enjoy it when the Eternals really do act like hyper-evolved immortals with a mission and concerns beyond humanity, not like humans with powers. I especially like that this comes from Sersi, a very “human” Eternal, rather than the one of the more obviously detached ones like Ajak, because it remind us that while Sersi definitely has fun just being a socialite in her day to life, but she is still an Eternal and has an according perspective on things.  - Druig being Druig. Omfg I love this guy and I REALLY love him in this series, Gillen def writes my favorite Druig.  What I don’t like is, of course, that the revelation about the Deviants and WHY they’re actually the important ones and how that connects to mutants---to all biological life native to Earth, it turns out---is directly setting us up for the Eternals turning their attention to mutants and Krakoa, which Druig does at the very end. I also. . . I super duper do love Ajak’s arc as a true believer on a questioning path that culminates when she gets answers she doesn’t like, I really do, I am SO here for that, but also the whole “it turns out the Celestials had different plans/aims than what the Eternals thought and now the Eternals are upset about it” has been done. All the Eternals literally committed MASS SUICIDE a few years ago (they got better) because of a related revelation. I hope this doesn’t become the new “Charles Xavier WASN’T such a saint after all, he had a DARK SECRET!” deal that gets done over and over for increasingly little shock value.  There’s also the fact that like. . .understanding why the Eternals get so upset over these revelations is REALLY hard to relate to because they’re not really terrible things? The uber super horrible reveal that made them all kill themselves as a species was that, if I understand it right which I might not because all this lore is REALLY complex and convoluted, but. . . 

Before life ever began on Earth, a dying Celestial came here. It was dying because it was infected by The Horde, an insect-like race who are like the Celestials equal-opposites. It perished here, and its sickness seeped into the Earth, along with the rotting flesh and blood of the so-called space god. The entire planet became diseased, and the infected brewed for millions of years, until the first life on Earth emerged from it. According to Loki, this is why Earth is “so uniquely eccentric within the near-infinite planets strewn across the heavens”  and “you and all your mutated, gamma-irradiated, web-slinging ilk” exist today—we’re the bacteria bred from the death of a god, and that’s why everything is so bugfuck nuts on this planet. Deep, huh? But what does that have to do with the Eternals, who were deliberately created by other Celestials much later?

Well, for some reason that I don’t understand because I didn’t want to slog through the whole run, the Celestials who came later looked at the genetic makeup of humans after they created us, and saw the potential for us to basically be their antibodies against the Horde. So they created the Eternals to basically cultivate us, to ensure our numbers thrived and grew. I don’t know exactly what using us as medicine would entail, because, again, I just couldn’t bring myself to read everything in this, but for whatever reason, they just. . .never explained this to Eternals. And so when the Eternals suddenly all found out in 2018 that their true purpose had been hidden all along, they committed mass suicide. Yeah. All of them. Thena, Sersi, Ikaris, Makkari, everybody. I don’t totally understand why this was that upsetting to them, maybe the way the Celestials intended to use humanity involved our deaths and I just missed that, but yeah. They just all killed themselves in 2018. Again, maybe I’m missing something, PLEASE tell me, but that seems to be why they all offed themselves. And likewise, finding out “oh actually the Deviants are the ones important to evolving life on this planet, and Eternals are just there to help them by pruning the population so they don’t make themselves extinct, like hunters with deer” is like. . .it is a change to their cosmology/faith/understanding of why the Celestials made them, and I understand it’s meant as a Big Fucking Deal to Ajak, but from a human perspective it’s just really hard to get too invested in the “betrayal” of one’s gods when that betrayal is basically “oh yeah those people you thought you were superior to all this time? actually you are not, you were made for THEM” and that also makes for a REALLY unsympathetic motive for them going into the mutant conflict thing. And I am not looking forward to have fandom reacts to that, given how fandom reacted to the Inhumans vs X-Men deal. Like, if you’re gonna come for mutants, you need the most sympathetic motive possible, and “well we were made to correct excess deviation, mutants qualify because it turns out the Deviants deviation spreads to other life forms and this is a good thing actually but does need to be controlled and that’s where we come in and we’ve decided mutants qualify and Krakoa is an excess deviation” is. . .not gonna cut it for readers, and Eternals will probably become taboo to like in fandom. But: AJAK’S ARMS!! HER ARMS YOU GUYS!! HER ARMS!!!

[maeve-writes]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: General

Warnings: Mostly fluff, slight angst.

Summary: Request: Could I request a Dean one-shot, where he finally wants to propose to R, but is starting to doubt himself and Sam has to reassure him and encourage him to finally do that step. Set in somewhere between season 12 and 13. R is Dean's best friend.

a/n: Inspired by Pentatonix’s arrangement of Can’t Help Falling in Love.

Previously posted on @plaided-ani

-

When he first met you, you were sitting on a park bench reading a book about Sumerian history and cross referencing with a small text on cuneiform, your nose wrinkled in thought and the tip of your tongue set between your teeth. You were the local expert on mythological lore according to the university and often took your lunches in the park when the weather was right and if Dean was lucky, he’d find you there. And he was.

That was several years ago and you had gotten to know the Winchesters very well. You knew what they did and the evils that they faced, luckily you weren’t caught up in the crossfire. Much. They called you often when Sam was too busy to look up something himself or Dean was too tired and annoyed to listen to Sam drone on about this or that. You always got straight to the point, told them what they needed to know and that was that.

You had your own pocket in Kansas, safe and sound from the big and the bad and the boys would stop in from time to time. They often brought you dinner when you were researching for your job and not for a case which meant you would forget about eating and drinking and sleeping to get your work done. Dean more often than not made you put down the pen or the tablet and ‘just hang out like normal people’. “You’re not normal people,” you always told him.

“I am when I’m with you,” he always replied back.

He’d often texted you when he got downtime. He hated emojis and gifs, but you’d send them to him anyway and he’d find one to send back, always with a short, grumpy text to go with it. You’d Facetime him when you stayed late nights at the office when he was sitting up in his bed at the bunker, relaxed and at peace, if only for the moment. You wouldn’t talk much, but he was happy to watch you work in silence.

They invited you to the bunker when things weren’t crazy and you always accepted. Their books were fascinating and they would let you load up boxes of texts that you’d call ‘light reading’ and that always got a chuckle out of Dean. But they’d make you stay for dinner and movie and eventually you got your own room set up for nights when you were too drunk to drive or it was too late to bother.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but Dean could feel the change in himself when he was with you. Your smile made his heart flutter, your laughter made his belly coil up like a spring, and the mere thought of you had his skin flushed all over. “That’s love,” Sam told him over grocery store meatloaf. “You’re in love.”

And he was, head over heels and weak in the knees. But in Dean’s life, he couldn’t afford to be in love. He couldn’t have the slow burn of a happy-go-lucky relationship, no courtship or honeymoon phase. He shouldn’t want you like he does. No, he shouldn’t need you like he does, but he can’t help him. In his fucked up world of demons and bloodshed and death, you were the one shining beacon in his life that lit his way home.

“I’m going to ask her to marry me,” he decided one day over bacon and coffee. Sam was still sleep drunk and hummed in agreement. Later, his younger brother would question his sanity, tell him that you two weren’t even dating, why jump straight to marriage? But Dean wasn’t listening, he was Googling the closet jewelry shop.

He bought the best ring credit card fraud could buy and started to go over all the reasons why you would say yes. They’ve known you for at least six years and not once had you dated a single person to Dean’s knowledge. Your touches always lingered with him, your smiles always softer, more private. You had to have a thing for him, right?

But there were more reasons to say no. Being part of the Winchester clan meant that your life would be on the line and with the storm that was brewing, he wasn’t sure he could keep you safe along with Sam and their new charge Jack. And, like Sam said, you weren’t even dating, never kissed, never even held hands, why would you jump straight to the ball and chain?

“I’m not gonna do it,” Dean decided once he got back to the bunker with the ring in its box tucked in his pants and his hands full of food and beer. “You’re right, it’s a stupid idea.”

Sam sighed heavily and helped his brother divvy up the evening meal. “No, what I said was stupid. It’s obvious you two are crazy about each other, I choke on the sexual tension whenever I’m in the room with you.�� Dean scowled at that, but Sam ignored it. “Y/N is a good egg. She’s stuck with us this long, maybe she’ll stick around longer with a ring on her finger.”

“Don’t call my future wife an egg,” Dean huffed.

“She’s a metaphorical egg,” Sam reassured. “The best kind, brown and organic from free range chickens.”

Dean held up a hand, “Stop. Just stop.”

But he called you three days later and asked if you were free for dinner. You were knee deep in research, but when weren’t you? If he allowed you access to the library when you finished eating, you’d agree and he had no objections with the idea.

You showed up in your best flowy thin cotton tee and yoga pants, hair up in a messy bun to find Dean waiting at the bottom of the stairs with a nervous smile on his face but in his best dress shirt and slacks and you figured he played a fed earlier. When you asked him what’s wrong, he said nothing and ushered you through the bunker to the kitchen. You casually mention Sam and Jack, but he told you they were off to see a movie and you shrugged sat across from him, noting the flowers and the candle and actual dinner plates. “Is this a date?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, opening a bottle of wine, or at least trying to.

“You should’ve told me,” you frowned, looking down at your casual attire, “I look like a bum.”

“I think you look beautiful,” he said with a fond smile, working the screw in the cork with some difficulty. When your cheeks flushed and your shoulders drooped, he set the wine aside and reached out for your hand. You took his in yours and he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Beer okay?”

“Sounds great,” you answered, flustered beyond belief.

Dinner carried on like it normally did, the two of you talking about work and the latest show you binge watched. Nothing changed between you other than your feet entwining underneath the table, your hands reaching out for one another. At some point he joined you on your side and your limbs were all tangled, your lips finding solace in his and his tie became a little looser.

“Marry me,” he whispered against your lips when you parted for the hundredth time that night.

“Okay,” you replied, kiss drunk and in love. “When?”

He fished out a box and popped it open, “Sometime before I die?”

“We can leave now and be in Vegas by the morning,” you laughed, taking the ring out to slide on your finger. It was a size too big, but that could always be fixed.

“I’ll pack, you book the hotel?”

You smiled and pulled out your phone. You were going to give Dean a happy-ever-after one of these days and this is where it would start.

[chdarling]

Do you have your muggle au version of James and Lily? It doesn’t have to be like written in a sheet of paper or in your pc, just like thoughts that say “my muggle Lily would do this for a living” etc. (also I have the anon because I don’t have tumblr but I am thinking to download the app because I asked you so many questions and I have lots more, I am really curious about your way of thinking and of developing a character)

I love you, dear anon, for sending me such interesting and thought-provoking questions! (also I’m incredibly flattered that you’re interested in my thoughts and if you do make a tumblr please let me know because I’d love to follow you! ❤️)

I have to be honest, before this ask I really hadn’t thought too much about my idea of a Muggle AU at all. But now that you’ve put the bug in my brain, I just spent an entire cup of tea sitting here brainstorming. 😂

Here’s what I came up with... (Heads up: I got carried away. Big surprise, I know.)

Lily is an art student at the University of Hogwarts. It’s a very prestigious, expensive university, and the only reason Lily can attend is because she’s on scholarship (The Horace E.F. Slughorn Memorial Foundation for the Arts).

Her older sister is very resentful of this. The girls were raised by a single mother (their father died when Lily was seven, a heart attack, very sudden, very shocking), and money was always tight. Petunia didn’t even apply to university, but instead got a secretary job straight out of school to help support their mother. (Petunia is now engaged to her boss’s son and is quite pleased with herself over this state of affairs.) Petunia feels that if Lily gets to go university (something she secretly really wanted to do), she should at least pursue a useful subject that would lead to a genuine career, not idly fritter away her days as an art freak.

But Lily got her scholarship for painting and its painting she intends to do. With her meager stipend, she’s able to rent out a rather shabby attic flat from an odd, elderly woman named Mrs. Figg. They get on well enough. Lily doesn’t mind the constant company of cats who don’t seem to respect the landlord/tenant boundary (all rooms belong to cats), and Mrs. Figg is deaf enough that she doesn’t mind Lily blasting Taylor Swift at 2 a.m. in the midst of a wild burst of creativity/insomnia.

The flat has very little furniture — just a bed shoved in the corner and an old armchair with the upholstery all shredded (see: cats), but Lily sort of loves it, because it’s the first place she’s ever had that was hers and hers alone. She fills the mini-fridge with takeout Thai food and fills the walls with half-painted canvases and fills herself with gratitude for this opportunity, this freedom. She has at least one painting that is done entirely in sepia tones because she spilled a cup of tea on the canvas and just decided to go with it (she spills tea on everything). She’s the kind of girl who keeps a paintbrush tucked behind her ear and then wonders where it went and why her hair is blue.

She’s also really into plants and herb lore. She has loads of books on the subject (all stacked in tottering piles around the flat because she’d rather spend her limited money on books than bookshelves) Her windows are constantly filled with cuttings she’s trying to propagate, and she lucked into a coveted plot in the local community garden, where you can find her most afternoons, covered in dirt, cultivating veggies and herbs and tall stalks of sunflowers. She’s the girl who is convinced she can cure whatever ails you with just the right brew of herbal tea (and weirdly she’s usually right).

She reads tarot and hoards essential oils and also makes her own candles with wax she steals from the textiles department.

Though she plays the role of the bohemian well, Lily is just a little insecure about her broke, scholarship student status because most of her friends at school are quite wealthy. She hides this vulnerability with a defiant, cheeky persona that wins her plenty of admirers, but leaves her feeling somewhat lonely and isolated from the rest of her peers all the same.

Thus it is a bit of a relief when she meets the brooding Philosophy student Severus Snape at one of those horrible events they make all the scholarship kids go to so they can show you off to the rich donors and make sure you’re appropriately grateful. Severus is also a scholarship kid and even more broke than her. They become fast friends and though he has some weird political ideas and reads some rather concerning philosophical texts (he insists it’s just for school), he’s funny (in a dark way) and really smart and he cares about her, and it’s just wonderful to have someone around whom she doesn’t have to constantly pretend or be on the defense. Rich kids can be brutal.

It takes her just a little too long to recognize how much his care is actually control. When he joins up with an alt-right political group on campus, however, things start to get a little dicey…

James, on the other hand, is one of those rich kids she’s so uncomfortable around. He’s a trust fund baby, and also the star of the university’s football team. He’s your typical popular jock archetype, except that he’s also pre-med and absolutely determined to become a doctor. (You’ll pry Healer James from my cold, dead hands.) This is because one of his closest friends (moody History major Remus Lupin) has a chronic illness and the more James has had to learn about what his friend goes through, the more infuriated he’s become with how the medical community has failed him.

As one of the richest kids in a very rich school, James has stupid amounts of money at his disposal, so he bought a big, beautiful old house near campus that he lets all his friends live in rent free. These friends include:

- Remus Lupin, the aforementioned moody History major.

- Sirius Black, an ex-rich kid whose parents cut him off when he decided to study music instead of political science (his dad is a right-wing politician who wanted him to follow in his footsteps oh nooo). Also his bitchy cousin outing him to his dad might’ve had something to do with it :(

- Peter Pettigrew, still an undecided major three years in, oh dear. Really good at procuring beer for parties though.

Everyone on campus knows who James Potter is, and everyone generally likes him. For one thing, he throws excellent parties in that big old house of his. It is at one of these parties where Lily meets James for the first time. It’s not exactly a meet-cute. James is very rude to Severus, and Lily decides she’s gonna hate that pretentious, snobby, arrogant trust fund baby for the rest of her days, so help her god.

Ahem.

Okay I am totally getting carried away so I’m going to stop here. But this was SUCH a fun exercise and it may or may not one day be the basis of the texting fic I long to write 😂

Thanks so much for such the super fun ask, anon ❤️

[927roses-and-stuff]

Miracles in Gotham: Chapter 7: A Brewing Storm

A/N: So, with Season 4 of Miraculous Ladybug officially starting, this is a reminder that this fanfic is non-compliant with any events after Season 3, even with the added lore in canon. I know this is also a crossover so that’s to be expected, but because this fic is also dealing with Miraculous lore, I feel the need to put this up. Please don’t comment about canon disproving any of the material here, because I am already fully aware of the fact. I don’t really care for the show anymore, and the only thing keeping me in the fandom are the fanworks. Like many in the Maribat fandom, I discovered the more vast lore of DC through this, so there is a mix-up of canon from different worlds/universes (e.g. Young Justice, New 52, and Prime Earth), I just don’t care enough to discern which wiki I’m getting my info from.

That said, thank you to everyone who is taking the time to read this fic, and I hope that you like it. An extra thank you to everyone who has given this a kudos, bookmarked, and/or commented. I appreciate you all so much.

Also, shout out to jackmand1, Sp8cefluff and BenRG who commented on ways to open the box (getting Bunnyx to get the tablet before Hawkmoth, and asking the box to open), which is all mentioned in Marinette’s diary entry.

If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham or ask to be added to the tag list.

Tag list: : @northernbluetongue @zerotosiki @spicybelladonna @my-name-is-michell @legendaryneckjudgestudent @lokiifriggasonn @iloontjeboontje

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Dear Diary,

There’s still no luck with the Miracle Box. After we tried Chat’s idea of dropping it from the Louvre using the chew toy as a pressure point, we tried hitting it with our weapons (didn’t even make a dent!), Chat asked the box to “please open don’t close up on us like my dad did” (we had a talk about that but he didn’t want to delve too much into it, and it didn’t work), the kwami tried phasing through it (thank god kwami don’t get concussions), and we even tried contacting Bunnyx, but goodness knows where she is and after Chat Blanc, I didn’t really want to see her anyway. We gave up sometime in the early morning, and now it’s shoved in one of my luggage carts, ready to bring to Gotham tomorrow. I hope it doesn’t trigger any of the airport security.

In better news, it’s been a few days since Chat and I officially introduced our new Ladybug and Bee to the scene. For the most part, I think they’re doing well- better than I did when I first started, anyway. It took a bit of time for Luka and Kagami to get used to the new set up, but Chat and I were there to help them, so it wasn’t too bad. Luka, or Bleu Acier, took a while to get used to the yoyo (who knew Luka had a fear of heights?), but he’s gotten used to it...after we had to convince him he wasn’t going to splat into the pavement or anything like that. Kagami, who decided on the name Shūyō, had to adjust to short-range fighting and not using Venom too soon, but she managed to navigate the top and cause a lot of damage to the akumas that we dealt with in the last few days. I think Hawkmoth has some idea that Bustier’s class is on the move because we’ve had an akuma attack every day so far. I’m hoping it’s just Hawkmoth becoming more desperate, although hopefully Bleu Acier and Shūyō threw him off a little bit. As of right now, I’m using the Snake Miraculous as Couleuvre, so it’ll be easier to-

One moment, Marinette had been settled comfortably in her chaise, and the next, a large crash through her bedroom walls threw her across the room, her back hitting the wall hard enough that she felt pain upon impact. When the world around her gained focus, she spotted a large woman-like figure in front of the hole in her wall cackling. The woman’s glassy skin that was translucent, yet she could also see a muddled reflection of her own face. Upon her head she wore a heavy silver crown adorned with gems that was reminiscent of her skin and a white, flowy dress that trailed behind her from the waist. In her hand was an open contact mirror that contained no reflection except for her own blue-bell eyes.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng! I am Mistress Mirage! Soon, I will show you the darkest parts of yourself, the secrets you hide behind your so-called truths!” she bellowed, her voice echoing in Marinette’s ears. In the background, she could barely hear her parents’ muffled screams and bangs against her bedroom door.

“Who-” she hissed, trying to balance herself and stand up. “What did I do to you?”

As far as she knew, she hadn’t angered anyone in the last hour she had been home for lunch.

Mistress Mirage zoomed towards her, her face shoved near into hers, her burning cold fingers choked her. Marinette backed into the wall, grabbing onto Mirage’s marble wrists, a pain shooting up her spine. Marinette could only struggle in place, her legs kicking listlessly, as the glassy, bright green emeralds Mistress Mirage had for eyes stared into her very being. The longer she stared into the empty gems, trying .

“Your weaknesses, your darkest secrets will be mine, Dupain-Cheng.”

Her voice, tinkled within Marinette’s mind, and she watched as the woman’s glassy skin shifted and soon she was faced with a kaleidoscope version of herself, blue sapphires glinting harshly, her breaths now ragged and shallow.

“Wha-” Marinette tried taking a deep breath, but Mirage’s fingers tightened their hold. “Why?” she managed to weakly choke out.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Mirage’s voice, no longer bellowing nor echoing, but now a whisper right in her ears, sounding eerily like her own. “That you aren’t enough? That you will never be enough?”

Marinette shook her head, trying to ignore the voice as it taunted her endlessly.

“What are you hiding, Marinette?”

“Why do you hide from the world?”

“How pathetic. You claim to hate liars,” Marinette felt Mirage’s fingers tighten around her. “But aren’t you a liar too?”

Tears stung the corner of her eyes. She didn’t know what was going on- Mistress Mirage wasn’t saying anything incriminating. If it were any other situation, she could brush off these accusations, but as Mirage continued to taunt her in her voice, doubts and fears, both new and old, she usually ignored were brought to the forefront of her mind.

‘I’ll fail as a Guardian- I’m not enough.

I’m abandoning my city to find a man who might not even be alive.

Chat Noir will never trust me again.

My parents want to send me away.

Why doesn’t Alya believe me?

Alya would’ve made a better Ladybug.

If Tikki could see me now she’d be disappointed.

What a failure I turned out to be.

“What a failure you turned out to be.”

Mistress Mirage’s emerald eyes glinted gleefully, a wide smile cracking into the glassy expanse of her skin. Her voice echoed Marinette’s thoughts and Marinette repeated her words as much as she could, her breathing becoming more shallow. Mistress Mirage couldn’t actually read any of Marinette’s secrets, however, she could read her psyche, a doubtful, anxious little thing, and she only said out loud what Marinette had already been telling herself to make her putty into Mirage’s hands. A neon violet butterfly appeared over her face, reminding her of her duty to get the Miraculous.

But for now, she had Marinette in her grasp. Once Marinette was in her trance, shaking slightly and mumbling nonsense as tears streaked down her cheeks, Mirage grabbed her and headed to the Trocadero, when three figures- black, steel blue and honey yellow- surrounded her in the middle of the street. The two new heroes stiffened at the sight of the girl in her arms. Chat snarled at Mistress Mirage.

“Marinette!” Chat yelled, rushing forward with his baton at Mistress Mirage. “What are you doing with her?!”

Mistress Mirage smirked. “If you want her, you’ll have to give me your Miraculous.”

She leapt out of the way only to stumble beside Shūyō who held her yellow top- flatter than Queen Bee’s with a long, black handle- the tip poised to the side of Mirage’s ribcage.

Before Shūyō could enact Venom however, Mirage turned and kicked the bee heroine away from her, holding out her compact mirror, creating a wall of mirrors that trapped Shūyō on the other side. She rearranged Marinette in her arms, ignoring the silent struggles of the bee thumping against the mirrored walls and swearing at her.

Chat Noir extended his baton towards Mistress Mirage. However, she jumped and landed on top of the baton, sending Chat sprawling through the air. Bleu Acier attacked at the same time. Mirage was quick and held out her compact to the two heroes, entrapping them in their own mirror dimension. The butterfly outline appeared again, and Mirage set off. She had special plans for Marinette.

Within the mirror dimension, Bleu and Chat were trying to navigate their way around crystallized walls which reflected everything around them. They had tried to find Shūyō, only to realize she was a reflection, then had almost been driven over by a car that had then disappeared.

“What is all this?” Chat muttered, nudging his surroundings. “It’s like, some of it are just reflections, but some of it is real.”

Bleu Acier nodded. “The reflections have to come from somewhere, so the real objects and people are in here somewhere.” He looked up and pointed a little ways forward. “Look, you can see our reflections.”

“Hope they’re getting my good side,” Chat quipped. “We have to get Shūyō and Marinette soon.”

Bleu Acier blinked, as he caught his yoyo when it hadn’t rebounded against a wall. “Do you know her personally?” He asked. He hadn’t been aware of Marinette’s close relationship with the Parisian heroes.

Chat gave a stiff nod. “She’s worked with Ladybug and I a few times. I met her when we fought Evillustrator.”

“So, do you and Ladybug often have civilians fight for you?” Bleu frowned. He scanned the area, and turned left.

“Only when we really need to,” Chat scoffed. “It’s not ideal, but it’s just me and m’Lady and sometimes we need help.”

Bleu could sense a resonating low, flat tone emanating from Chat. “That’s horrible. You guys look like you’re still kids.” Chat shrugged in response. As they walked onwards, investigating every inch of the way, Bleu noticed a figure dressed in a black and yellow-patterned fencing uniform, wearing a striped domino mask, thumping against a transparent wall. “Chat, look.”

Cat’s eyes widened at the sight. “Shūyō!” he yelled and rushed forward, only to be trapped in a corner with several reflections of the bug-themed heroine. Chat’s breath quickened. “Shūyō! Can you hear us?!”

Shūyō’ perked up and looked around. “I can! But where are you?” She shouted, her voice vibrating through the air.

“Shit.” Chat stared at his hand, before clenching it and turning towards Bleu. “I think we might need that Lucky Charm now.”

He nodded. “Lucky Charm!”

A bright red object with black spots dropped from the sky followed a series of chimes. Bleu Acier’s eyes widened as he held up the wind chime, eight hollow tubes ringing against the slapper in between, the clear, steady ringing piercing all around them. The wind chime was half the size of his torso, so fortunately, it was lighter than it looked.

It was a curious thing Ladybug had noted, that most of Bleu Acier’s Lucky Charms were sound or music-related.

“Well, this blows. You going to chime a pretty tune there, Bleu?”

He held back a chuckle. In the week he and Shūyō had been working with Chat and Ladybug, he had grown to appreciate Chat’s humour and the jaunty tune he associated with them.

“Maybe,” he said. Raising his voice, he addressed Shūyō. “Can you hear this?!” He asked, shaking the wind chime from its hanger.

They could see Shūyō’s reflection moving around, her eyes closed in concentration. “Sort of!” she answered, echoing slightly. “Are we able to use Chat Noir’s Cataclysm?!”

Bleu stared at Chat who was staring at his hand in deep thought. “Probably! We just need to make sure I’m not using Cataclysm on something real!”

“Maybe it is not my place to say as your junior, but this is not the time for hesitation!” Shūyō yelled back.

A beep echoed in Bleu’s ears. “We should hurry. I only have four minutes.”

Chat nodded. “Alright!” He looked around, scanning nearby walls until he found a reflection of himself- a sure way to make sure he hit the mirror. “Cataclysm!”

The walls around them crumbled in seconds, revealing the world around them. Chat smirked, and they scouted for Shūyō who met them in the middle.

“Why did you not use Cataclysm in the first place?” Shūyō asked, when they reconvened.

“I didn’t want to accidentally use it on the wrong thing,” he said, flexing his fingers. “Come on, we have less than five minutes. Don’t use Venom until you receive my signal.”

Shūyō nodded.

Chat turned to Bleu Acier and pointed to the wind chime. “Keep that on you and look out for opportunities.” He turned around and headed off. “Let’s go!”

In the end, Mistress Mirage was defeated quickly. In their absence, she had grown arrogant, and the three heroes found several clones of Mistress Mirage atop the Palais de Chaillot, a crowd having gathered at the bottom. Each clone had a Marinette bound in front of them, at the edge of the roof, standing listlessly. Despite this, Mistress Mirage was not prepared for the ambush of the three heroes. Bleu’s wind chimes were used as a distraction for the real Mistress Mirage while Chat and Shūyō attacked from behind.

“Shūyō! Use it now!” Chat yelled, as he grabbed Marinette and set her down on the ground below, and allowed the paramedics to deal with her.

“Venom,” Shūyō muttered. She dropped beneath Mirage and her top, stabbing her opponent beneath her ribcage. “Gotcha.”

Mistress Mirage froze mid-air, one leg in the air and both hands outstretched. Chat’s eyes widened when he didn’t see her holding the akumatized object. Chat pounced back onto the roof, ignoring the second beep from his ring. He noticed the satin sash that was wrapped around her waist.

“Shūyō, the akumatized object is the mirror she carries around. It should be in her sash,” he said, his cheeks tinged pink. “Can you- uh-?”

Shūyō nodded. “I do not understand your need for modesty at such a time, but it is commended.”

Chat’s cheeks reddened further. “It’s just polite! I don’t want to be touching anyone without their consent!”

Shūyō took out the compact mirror that had been tucked into the sash just above her left hip. She tossed it to Bleu Acier who quickly broke it and captured the akuma.

“It’s just the principle of it!” Chat squawked as the trail of tiny red ladybugs flowed throughout Parisian skies.

She snorted. “I understand. I was just teasing.” She turned to nod at Bleu then at Chat. “You two are close to de-transforming. I will bring both victims home.” Shūyō then grabbed Lila, who had been the akuma and was now disoriented, and jumped down to retrieve Marinette.

When Marinette had woken up from the akuma attack, she had been escorted home by Shūyō, who had fussed over any injuries she may have gotten before eventually leaving with a pack of honey macarons. Marinette smiled. Chat had made a good choice with Kagami. After, she had endured cuddles and hugs from her parents who were now even more determined to get her out of Paris.

Later that evening, after reassuring her parents and making sure the kwami were okay. She headed off to patrol where she had to answer for her absence, and where Chat had regaled how they did. Marinette smiled, knowing she made the right choice. After the patrol, which had been less of a patrol and more of a small goodbye ceremony, she returned home and recorded the events in her diary, slowly anticipating the trip.

The next day, she had just made it to the airport an hour before boarding. Everyone had gone through the usual airport processes and she was the last to arrive with her passport and airplane tickets in her carry-on shoulder bag. When she arrived to the waiting area where her friends were (with Adrien’s bodyguard nearby playing on his phone), she was met with a lot of mixed reactions.

Alya had rushed over and hugged her, frantically asking if she was okay. Several classmates had joined her, like Rose, Juleka and Mylene. She hugged them back and reassured them that she was alright, and wasn’t going to jump off roofs anytime soon (though she didn’t remember that from yesterday anyway). They then moved on and Alya asked her a question that stopped her in her tracks.

“Why were you arguing with Lila yesterday, anyway?” Alya asked, leading the two of them to sit down.

Marinetter furrowed her eyebrows and frowned. “What are you on about? I’m not talking to Lila at all.”

Alya frowned. “She told us that’s why she was akumatized yesterday. Apparently you called the mirror she got from Bruce Wayne as a birthday gift, fake.”

Marinette forced herself to not roll her eyes. “What? Why would I care about anything like that? She’s lying!”

Alya frowned even more. “Lila said you’d probably say that. Why can’t you two just get along?”

“Alya, you’re the one that believes Lila has a lying illness. Why don’t you believe me when I say she’s lying and that I didn’t even see her at all yesterday outside of class?” Marinette tensed. How petty did Lila think she was? How petty was Lila?

“She did get akumatized yesterday. Her story matches the events,” Alya said. “Marinette, you’re my best friend. That’s why I want to know why you did what you did.”

Marinette snorted. “And I’m telling you, I didn’t do anything. Is this what the whole class believes? That I’m so shallow that I would akumatize Lila over something as trivial as a mirror?”

Alya blanched. “No, of course not. We’re just saying you two had an argument and Lila got upset enough to turn into an akuma. We’re not saying it was intentional on your part or anything.”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Look, my version of events is that I went home for lunch, was in my bedroom, got attacked by the akuma, and was out for it until that Bee hero Shūyō brought me home. Believe what you want, but don’t expect me to apologize to Lila for something I didn’t do.”

Marinette stood up and was about to go before she was stopped by Alya grabbing her wrist. She looked back and watched as Alya looked down at her clenched fist, biting her lip.

“I,” Alya sighed. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I’m not saying I don’t believe Lila either. Either way, both of you were the victims yesterday. I’m sorry I was asking you stuff like that.”

Marinette frowned and sat back down. She wasn’t sure what was happening between her and Alya. Alya had been spending more time with Lila, even ending up as her seatmate on the plane and her roommate for the hotel. It made Marinette uncomfortable that they were becoming so close, considering who Lila was. But, Alya was a good person- she just wanted her friends to get along, and it’s not like she could force Alya to cut off her other friendships, even if it was to manipulative lying rats like Lila. That had to be on Alya’s terms. All Marinette could do was be there for her and hope she’d return the sentiment.

She forced a smile. “You’re forgiven.” Alya looked up and smiled, reaching out to hug her. “Now, let’s hang out for a bit before we’re stuck in a plane for twelve hours.”

Alya smiled back. “Yeah! By the way, did you hear that Jagged Stone knows Bruce Wayne?”

And just like that, they had spent the rest of the hour waiting to board the place. The plane that would take them to whatever was awaiting them in Gotham City.

A/N: So that's the end to the first arc I guess, if I intentionally have arcs lol. The rest of this fanfic will be in Gotham. Thank you again for joining me this far and I hope you continue to read it!

Other notes: Bleu Acier is based on the Steelblue Ladybird, with Bleu Acier meaning Steel Blue. Shūyō has three meanings in Japanese, but here, it’s used to mean self-discipline (because that’s something I associate with bees and hard workers). Couleuvre is just another way to say snake in French because Marinette sucks at names.

P.S. I don't hate Alya. In fact, I think we often brush over the fact that Alya is fiercely loyal and in the show, doesn't have all the facts so she's not too suspicious of Lila.

[hanmajoerin]

I’m just gonna say it, y’all, Yashahime isn’t what I expected and there are elements to the series that I would have handled differently but to be honest, if I was at the helm of this all of you guys would be shitting on my version too.

My expectations–my hopes and dreams for the InuYasha cast after the end–it’s all so different from yours. I’ve read your fanfictions, I’ve seen your OC children. I respect them even if they’re not the characters that exist in my head. I respect them even if your ideas of the world after Kagome returns take three different turns than mine. This is exactly why I am urging some of you guys to brew a cup of chamomile tea and wait, at least until we have all 24 episodes of Yashahime at our disposal. I’m not the biggest fan of them, but Sunrise deserves the same respect as all of you do. And before you get all defensive and upset, don’t think for a single second that I have forgotten what InuYasha: A Fedual Fairytale did to the relationships of every InuYasha character. I feel their poor representation of InuYasha and Kagome’s relationship in the very atoms on my fingernails to this day.

Still, I have 193 animated TV episodes and four feature films to point at and criticize. And believe me when I tell you that the amount of college papers I could compose regarding the disservice that was done not just to my favorite couple, but to all of the characters that I’ve spent the past fourteen going on fifteen years of my life growing up alongside is kind of crazy. Yashahime has four episodes. F O U R  E P I S O D E S.

For some crazy reason, Rumiko Takahashi loves the cast and staff that worked on InuYasha: A Feudal Fairytale–they take annual vacations together for Christ’s sake. It sounds like Sunrise has a plan for this sequel and just because the four released episodes include elements that I didn’t anticipate doesn’t make it fair to rule out the possibility of the series’ potential as a whole. Takahashi claimed to like it and that woman is coo-coo banana crazy, but if she believes in it, I have faith too.

But something that I wanted to remind you guys about is the fact that sequels don’t happen in the Rumic World. That’s why Yashahime existing is so fucking insane to me in general. Takahashi wanted to make a new story instead of “InuYasha Two” and as a writer who tends to not be a fan of sequels myself, I know where she’s coming from. I also wanted to remind you that we are not watching “InuYasha Two” either. We have Hanyo no Yashahime. This is a series about the daughters of some characters we love carving a path sprinkled with a little bit of familiar stuff and a little bit of new stuff. The whereabouts of our favorite characters from the past (unless you’re a Sesshomaru fan, we found that guy today LOL) is the series’ greatest mystery. Sunrise is dragging us along without an ounce of remorse as the new generation uncovers it. And it’s painful, but that doesn’t make it fair to disregard the potential of an entire work so early on in its run. If you decide that the story is simply not for you and you’d like jump ship? Totally different. It’s absolutely fine. It’s expected! But if you’re discrediting any kind of potential? No way.  

What’s been confirmed so far is that Moroha has little to no memories of her parents even though she knows who they are. Today we saw her grandmother ask for regards to be sent to her mom. Instead of having an emotional breakdown like we (with our 559 chapter history with Kagome) wanted, Moroha showed the largest amount of discomfort yet. She faltered, she admitted that she didn’t really “know” her mother, and scratched the back of her head uncomfortably. Nonetheless, she agreed to send the regards. This was Moroha acting in-character. Seriously, this quarter-demon is a fucking spitfire like twenty-six hours a day; she may have bared her butt to the family, but she hasn’t shown them any signs of emotional vulnerability. Two different things. 

Speaking of two, I’ll fight anyone who says Towa didn’t deserve that scene with Sota. In Yashahime, Sota raised Towa for a decade. Towa was his first baby. Towa is so much more than just the daughter of Sesshomaru, she is Sota’s daughter. His baby girl. And he sees so much of his big sister in her, especially now that Towa’s departing on an epic journey to gather her twin’s memories like the shards of the Sacred Jewel. It felt nostalgic to Sota. It felt right for him to share this moment with his daughter instead of his tiny gremlin niece who jacked his credit card and came into his life a few days ago 😉. And it was positively monumental that for the first time, Towa called Sota “Papa” instead of “Sota Papa.” It was in-character for the lore of the show. Maybe not our hearts, but in the reality of the show and therein lies the difference. 

Please don’t take this post as a declaration stating that you cannot be upset. Sunrise can’t make us all happy, that’s preposterous! We just need to be fair. It’s been a test for me too, in some ways, but I’m genuinely enjoying Yashahime for what it is. My blog is always going to be here for fun stupid posts, sentiments fics, and anything InuYasha. I want to continue participating in the journey that is Yashahime with my followers which is precisely why I’m encouraging you to watch the series with a calming cup of chamomile tea at your side. I’m encouraging you to remember that the main cast and main supporting cast of this sequel simply do not share the same history that we do with InuYasha and his friends. We need to acknowledge the characters for where they stand–their history with the world we’ve been shown–not where we stand.

I know it’s hard, my dudes, we miss our family. I want their safety and happiness just as much as you. But, I promise you, it’s going to be okay in the end. Kagome already told us so.

[theredherb]

The Red Herb’s Top 10 Games of 2020

Hey, fuck 2020. You might notice that many of the “Best Of” lists you read this year and last can’t help but mention how terrible 2020 was. That’s because every day was like hitting a new, splinter riddled branch on our 365 day plummet off a shit-coated tree. The year brought with it a viral pandemic that served as a pressure cooker for the societal and systemic issues boiling beneath the surface of our every day life. And we’re not out of it. 

At least one positive holds true of 2020: the games were pretty darn good. One has to wonder, though, if 2020 was the last year of what can be called “normalcy” for the video game industry. Now that the remainder of titles brewed in pre-Covid times are out in the wild, what will the future of gaming look like as studios shift to work-from-home and distribution models migrate to digital as the primary bread winner? What will games look like going forward?

I have no fucking clue. We’ll get there when we get there. But looking back, I’m glad to have had such solid distractions from the stress and strife. If 2020 is any indicator for the industry going forward, then my takeaway is that games will continue to grow in prominence because of their ability to help us cope and, more importantly, stay connected.

Anyway, here’s video games:

10. MARVEL’S AVENGERS

Oh, Marvel’s Avengers. I know you expected to be on more prestigious Top 10 lists than mine. Truthfully, I debated whether or not you should be here. But I had to search my soul (stone) on this one. Really assemble my feelings. Tony Stark my thoughts (?). Here’s the short of it: Marvel’s Avengers has a great story campaign with a surprising amount of emotional weight thanks largely to Kamala Khan’s quest to reassemble the heroes of her youth. Once the final cutscene ends, though, players were expected to take their play box of Marvel heroes, jump online, and duke it out against hordes of villains for the privilege of precious loot and level gains. It would be impossible to get bored because Crystal Dynamics was going to continually Bifrost in new quests, cosmetics, and heroes -- for free!

Except, after fans blasted through the campaign (took me a solid weekend), they found a multiplayer mode filled with repetitive fights against non-descript A.I.M Bots, a handful of dull, un-Marvelous environments (the PNW?! In a video game?! Wowwee!), and a grind for gear that became useless minutes after it was equipped. Oh, and bugs. Tons of bugs. It must be hard for A.I.M. to take earth’s mightiest heroes seriously when they’re falling through the fucking earth every other mission.

So why the Kevin Accolade™? Of all the mistakes and underbaked ideas, Crystal Dynamics got the most important thing right: they made me feel like I was a part of the Avengers. Cutting through the sky as Iron Man; dive bombing, fists-first as the Hulk; firing gadgets at cronies as Black Widow; cracking a row of skulls with Cap’s shield… Avengers is a brawler on super soldier serum.

The combat is crunchy and addictive, and surprisingly deep once you unlock your character’s full suite of skills and buffs. The gear matters little. But choosing a loadout that works for you -- like ensuring enemy takedowns grant you a health orb every time or turning area clearing attacks to focused beams of hurt -- does matter. When it comes to games with disastrous launches, Avengers is the most deserving of a triumphant comeback story because, if you clear the wreckage, I think there’s a solid game here. If I was able to spend hours playing it in its roughshod state, I can see myself digging in for the long-term once it’s polished up and given a healthy dose of content. You know...if Square Enix doesn’t outright abandon it.

9. STREETS OF RAGE 4

Here’s a fact about me: I love beat ‘em ups. From Final Fight to X-Men to The Simpsons, I prioritized my quarters for the beat ‘em up machines (and House of the Dead simply because House of the Dead fuckin’ owns). Unfortunately, Streets of Rage wasn’t in arcades, and I didn’t own a Genesis growing up, so I didn’t get around to the series until Sega re-released as part of a collection. Though my history with the 29 year old brawler is shorter than some, the basics stand out out right away: it’s an awesome side-scrolling brawler filled with zany character designs and high octane boss fights.

SoR4 nails that simple spirit while adding an electric soundtrack, buttery smooth animations, and an art style that looks like a comic book in motion. You can button-mash your way through the game or master your timing to combo stun the shit out of bad guys. Same screen co-op is a requisite for the beat ‘em up genre but I have to call it out nonetheless given that it's next to obsolete these days. The story campaign is, of course, finite but a stream of unlockables and a Boss Rush Mode pad out the package nicely.

I really don’t have to go on and on. I’m on board with any game that captures the arcadey high of classic beat ‘em ups, and Streets of Rage 4 does it with flare.

8. RESIDENT EVIL 3 REMAKE

Resident Evil 2’s remake was my game of the year in 2019. It’s a pitch perfect revision that captures the pulse-pounding fear of the original while beautifully updating its graphics and gameplay for modern audiences. The most striking aspect of RE2’s remake is how it expands and reconfigures the classic game’s environments and set pieces. Capcom managed to recontextualize, and even improve on, the original’s design while staying faithful to its tone and atmosphere.

Resident Evil 3’s remake is less successful in modifying and improving on its source material. If the game feels like it was handled by a different team than RE2R, your gamer hands have good eyes (roll with it). It was developed by a separate internal team (three different teams, in fact), but that’s actually one of many choices mirroring its 1999 forebear. Just like the original, RE3R is a tighter (i.e. shorter) experience that launched less than a year after its predecessor. And just like the original, the game skirts away from survival horror in favor of action horror.

Unlike last year’s remake, however, RE3R paints in broad strokes with the original material much in the same way that 2004’s Dawn of the Dead remake shared a vague resemblance with Romero’s ‘79 classic. Capcom at least nails down what matters: you play as Jill Valentine, beaten and discredited after the Arklay Mountains incident, during her last escape from the zombie besieged Raccoon City. Her exit is complicated by Nemesis, a humanoid missile that relentlessly pursues her from minute two of the game. Her only chance of making it out alive is by teaming up with a gaggle of Umbrella dispatched mercenaries, including an overly handsome fellow named Carlos Oliveras that you control for a spell. But fans struggled to get over what Capcom didn’t remake. Several enemies, boss fights, and a “divergent path” mechanic that had you choose how best to escape the Nemesis in a pinch were omitted from the remake. Even an entire section set in a clock tower was cut. But, let’s be honest, the biggest omission is a secret ending where Barry Burton saves the day using only his beard. For real, YouTube that shit.

If you look at what the remake does instead of what it doesn’t, you’ll find a lightning paced action game highlighted by tense, one-on-one fights against the constantly mutating Nemesis. The tyrant’s grotesque transformations evoke the mind-rending, gut turning creature designs found in John Carpenter's The Thing. It’s sad that Nemesis doesn’t pursue you through the levels as diligently as he did in the original, or as Mr. X had in last year’s remake, but these “arena fights” end up being harrowing and fun, culminating in a memorable final encounter. The remake also treats us to the best incarnation of Jill to date. She’s a cynical badass, exasperated at how Umbrella upended her life, and can take a plunge off of a building yet still muster enough energy to call Nemesis a bitch. RE3R also shines thanks to its snappy combat, including a contextual dodge that feels rewarding to pull off, less bullet-sponge enemies than RE2, and an assortment of weapons to get you through Jill’s Very Bad Night(s). It makes for a necessary, though shorter, companion to last year’s stellar remake.

7. HADES

I’m experiencing a new type of shame including a title that I haven’t beaten on my Top 10 list, but I can assure you that I’ve dumped hours into its addictive death loop. It’s probably because of my resistance to looking up any tips, but given the skill-check nature of the difficult boss fights, I’m almost afraid the top shelf advice will amount to “die less, idiot.”

My failings aside, Hades is brilliant. It’s the perfect merger of gameplay and storytelling. You play as Zagreus, son of Hades, and your entire goal is to escape your father’s underworld domain. You pick from a selection of weapons, like a huge broadsword or spear, and attempt your “run,” seeing how far you can make it before an undead denizen cuts you down. It’s familiar roguelike territory, but where Supergiant separates their game from the pack is in the unique feeling of constant progression, even as you fail. With each run, not only is Zagreus earning a currency (gems or keys) that unlock new skills that make the next go a little easier, you’re also consistently treated to new lore. The fallen gods and heroes that line your father’s hall greet you after each death and provide a new insight into their world. The writing is bouncy and hilarious, the voice acting ethereal and alluring, and the character designs could make a lake thirsty.

Supergiant’s stylistic leanings are at their peak here. They’ve managed the impossible feat of making failure feel like advancement. Sure, it totally fucks up other roguelikes for me, but that’s okay. None of those games have Meg.

6. DEMON’S SOULS

Whereas Capcom takes liberties with their remakes, Bluepoint took the Gus Van Sant approach and made a 1:1 recreation of the 2009 title that launched the “Soulslike” genre. The dividing difference is a 2020 facelift brought to us by way of the PlayStation 5’s next-gen horsepower. There’s been online arguments (surprise) regarding the loss of Fromsoftware’s visual aesthetic in translating the PS3 original in order to achieve a newfound photorealism. It’s true, some beasties lose their surreal weirdness -- a consequence of revisiting designs without the worry of graphical or time constraints -- but the game’s world is still engrossing, morbid, and bleakly gorgeous.

That’s not to say all Bluepoint did was overhaul the graphics and shove this remake out the door. No, their improvements are nuanced, under-the-hood changes that gently push the genre into the next-generation. For one, the loading times are incredible. You could hop between all five archstones in under a minute if you wanted. And this game is a best DualSense controller showcase outside of Astro’s Playroom. You can feel a demonstrable difference between hitting your sword against a wall compared to connecting it with an attacking creature. Likewise, the controller rumbles menacingly as to let you know enemies are stomping across a catwalk above you. “Better rumbles” was not on my wish list of next-gen features, but the tactile feedback goes great lengths to make you feel like you’re there.

Granted, sticking so closely to the original means its pratfalls are also carried over to the next-gen. The trek between bonfire checkpoints is an eternity compared to the game’s successors, and Fromsoftware hadn’t quite mastered the sword ballet of boss fights prevalent in Dark Souls. Instead, a handful of bosses feel more like set pieces where you’re searching for the “trick” to end it versus having to learn attack patterns and counters. Still, it’s easy to see the design blueprint that bore a whole new genre. From having to memorize enemy placements to hunting down the world’s arcane secrets in the hopes of finding a new item that pushes the odds in your favor. Bluepoint’s quality of life improvements only make it kinder (not easier) to plunge into the game, obsess over its idiosyncrasies, and begin to master every inch of it. That is until you roll into New Game+ and the game shoves a Moonlight Greatsword up your ass.

5. YAKUZA: LIKE A DRAGON

Here’s a fact about me I’m sure you don’t know: I love beat ‘em ups. Streets of Rage 4 had an easy time making it on this list because it can be classified as both a “beat ‘em up” and “good.” Here’s another fact about me: I’m not the biggest fan of JRPGs. I’m told this is not because of any personal preferences I harbor, but rather due to a distinct lack of culture. I’ve made peace with that. At least my uncultured ways are distinctive.

But my disinterest in JRPGs is notable here because it illustrates how very good Like A Dragon is. Transitioning the Yakuza series from a reactive brawler (entrenched in an open-world SIM) to a full-blown turned-based RPG was risky -- especially 8 entries into the mainline series -- but it pays off explosively for Like A Dragon. Not only does the goofiness, melodrama, and kinetic energy translate to an RPG -- it’s improved by it. Beyond a new protagonist -- the instantly likable and infinitely affable Ichiban Kasuga -- we’re finally treated to an ensemble cast that travels with you, interacts with you, and grows with you. Their independent stories weave into Ichi’s wonderfully and end up mattering just as much as his.

The combat doesn’t lose any of its punch now that you’re taking turns. In fact, it feels wilder than ever and still demands situational awareness as your enemies shift around the environment, forcing you to quickly pick which move will do the most damage and turn the fight in your favor. RGG purposefully made Ichi obsessed with Dragon Quest (yes, specifically Dragon Quest) as an excuse to go ham and morph enemies into outlandish fiends that would populate Ichi’s favorite series. It’s a fun meta that never loses its charm.

This is the best first step into a new genre I’ve ever seen an established franchise make and I hope like hell they keep with it for future outings -- and that Ichi returns to keep playing hero. There’s plenty of callbacks and treats for longtime fans, but RGG did a masterful job rolling out the virtual carpet for a whole new generation of Yakuza fanatics.

4. GHOST OF TSUSHIMA

Sucker Punch’s dive into 13th century Japan doesn’t redefine the open-world genre. But like Horizon: Zero Dawn before it, Ghost of Tsushima takes familiar components of the genre and uses them exceptionally well, creating an airtight experience that can’t help but stand out. I can tell Sucker Punch mused on games like Assassin’s Creed and Breath of the Wild, tried to figure out what makes those games tick, and then brought their own spin to those concepts. You can feel it in their obsession to make traversal through the environment as unobtrusive as possible, letting the wind literally guide you to your destinations instead of forcing the player to glue their eyes to a mini-map. You can feel it in how seamless it is to scale a rooftop before silently dropping on a patrol, blade first. You can feel it in the smoothness behind the combat as your sword clashes against the enemy’s. Every discrete part is fine-tuned yet perfectly complements the whole. The game is silk in your hands. 

The mainline story can be humdrum, though. It mirrors the beats of a superhero origin story, which isn’t surprising when you account for the three Infamous titles and satellite spinoffs under Sucker Punch’s belt. But Jin Sakai’s personal journey outshines the cookie-cutter plot. His gradual turn from the strict samurai code to a morally ambiguous vigilante lifestyle (to becoming, eventually, a myth) is a fascinating exploration in shifting worldviews. This is bolstered by the well-written side-missions dotting your quest, some of which play out in chains. It’s these diversions about melancholy warriors and villagers adjusting to life under invasion that end up being the essential storytelling within the game. Whatever you do, don’t skip a single one.

Before GoT can overstay its welcome with collectible hunting and stat-tree building, the ride is over. If you find exhaustive open-world titles, well, exhausting, Sucker Punch coded enough of a campaign to sticking the landing and not more. But if you were looking for more, the game’s co-op Legends mode is the surprise encore of the year. It strikes its own tone, with vibrant, trippy designs, and a progression system that embarrasses other AAA titles in the space (I mean Avengers. I’m talking about Avengers).

3. THE LAST OF US PART II

The Last of Us is widely regarded as a masterpiece. It’s a melancholic trek through a realistic post-apocalypse, driven by the budding bond between a world-weary survivor and a would-be teenage savior. The fungal zombies and violent shootouts with scavengers were scary and exciting, but ultimately just window-dressing compared to the level of complicated, and honest, human emotion on display throughout the tale. While a segment of detractors helpfully pointed out that The Last of Us’ story isn’t unique when compared to years of post-apocalyptic books, comics, and movies, that argument seems to forget that a narrative more concerned with the human protagonists’ connections to one another instead of saving the world or feeding into a hero complex is pretty unique for games -- especially a high profile, AAA budgeted game.

Still, fans made heroes out of Joel and Ellie because of their own connection to their journey. And that connection is almost instantly challenged in the opening hours of The Last of Us Part II to heartbreaking effect. But I’m here to tell you that any other sequel would have been dishonest to the legacy of the original game. To be given a hero’s quest as a continuation, an imagined sequel where Joel and Ellie do battle against the viral infection that’s swept the earth, would have been a despicable cash-in. It would have been a mistake to follow-up the original’s careful examination of human nature just to placate an audience that seems to have missed the point Naughty Dog made. The Last of Us Part II hurts. But it has to or else it wouldn’t have been worth making. It’s a slow-burn meditation on the harmful ripples revenge creates, how suffering begets suffering, and how, if we don’t break the cycles of violence we commit to, suffering will come for us.

To drive this point, we’re given two distinct perspectives during the meaty (and somewhat overlong) campaign, split between Ellie Williams, the wronged party seeking revenge, and Abby Anderson, an ex-Firefly whose actions set the sequel into motion. The greatest trick Naughty Dog pulls off isn’t forcing us to play as a character we hate, it’s giving us reasons to emphasize with them. It was gradual, and despite some heavy-handed moments meant to squeeze sympathy out of the player (how many times do I have to see that fuckin’ aquarium?!), I eventually came to love Abby’s side of the story. The obvious irony being that she unwittingly walks the same path Joel did in the original.

My love for the narrative shouldn’t distract from how well designed the world is. Being a King County local, the vision of a ruined Seattle strikes an uncomfortable note -- it was eerie seeing recognizable buildings overgrown with vegetation but otherwise devoid of life. Maybe the heart-wrenching story also distracts from the fact this game is, by definition, survival horror. Exploring toppled buildings in the dark, hearing the animalistic chittering of the infected, defending yourself with limited resources… It manages to be a scarier entry into the genre in 2020 than even RE3R. There’s a particular fight in a fungus covered hospital basement that easily goes down as my Boss Fight of the Year. Human enemies make for clench-worthy encounters, too, with incredibly adept AI that forces you to keep moving around the environment and set traps to avoid getting overwhelmed.

Admittedly, the subject matter -- or more to the point, the grim tone -- was tough to stomach during an actual pandemic which has happily treated us to the worst of human nature. Still, The Last of Us Part II is absolutely worth playing for its balance of mature themes and expertly crafted world, and the way it juxtaposes beauty and awfulness in the same breath.

2. SPIDER-MAN: MILES MORALES

The most impressive thing about Miles Morales is that, despite being a truncated midquel rather than a full-blown sequel, it’s a better game than 2018’s Spider-Man. It’s not because of the instantaneous loading times or the fancy ray-tracing techniques used on the PS5 version of the game. Rather, it’s how it takes the joyride of the original game and hones it into a laser focused experience filled to the brim exclusively with highs. Like Batman: Arkham Asylum going into Arkham City, Miles starts the game off with his mentor’s best abilities and tools. From there, he discovers his own powers, his bioelectric venom strike, which ends up feeling like the missing ingredient from the first game’s combat.

Your open-world playground -- a locale in the Marvel universe called “New York City” -- is exactly the same size as the previous installment, which helps avoid making the game feel “lesser.” But Insomniac wisely consolidated the random crimes Peter faced into a phone app that Miles can check and choose which activity to help out with. Choices like this really trim the fat from the main game and help alleviate “the open-world problem” where the story’s pacing suffers because players are spending hours on end collecting feathers. This is great because Miles’ story is also great. The narrative kicks Peter out pretty early on, focusing on how Miles assumes the role of city protector, primarily focused on his new home in Harlem. Insomniac avoids retreading the same path paved by Into the Spider-Verse by telling a relatable tale where Miles defines his identity as Spider-Man. With a strong cast led by Nadji Jeter as Miles, the game lands an impactful story that weaves its own new additions to Miles’ mythos (light spoiler: I loved their take on The Prowler).

Miles Morales was pure virtualized joy from start to finish. A requirement of the platinum trophy is to replay the entirety of the game on New Game+. I didn’t hesitate to restart my adventure the minute the credits were over. Everything I loved about 2018’s Spider-Man is here: the swinging, the fighting, the gadgets, the bevy of costumes. But it gave me a new element I adore and can’t see Insomniac’s franchise proceeding without: being Miles Morales.

1. FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE

I love subversive media, I do. And Square Enix’s “remake” of one the most beloved video games ever made subverts expectations by openly acknowledging that, yes, the original story you love exists and is consistently referenced in this game. But this is not that story. This is something..else. Because the truth is, SE could never have recreated FFVII and delivered a title that matched the Sacred Game fans created in their heads. That impossible standard is like an imagined deity, given power by feeding on raw nostalgia reinforced by years of word-of-mouth and appearances on Top 100 lists. I’m not saying FFVII is a bad game or that fans give it too much credit. Not at all. There’s a reason it’s so influential -- it’s good! But memory works in a funny way over time. We have a tendency to codify our perception of a thing over the reality of it. The connection we make to certain media, especially when introduced at a young age as FFVII had been to a whole generation of fans so long ago, creates a legend in our heads. Unfortunately, it’s a legend no developer could achieve when tasked with remaking it.

So Square...didn’t. Final Fantasy VII Remake has the same characters, setting, and plot beats as the first third of the original game but it’s not the same game, nor is it a remake of it in the traditional sense. It’s something new. And I fucking love that about it.

Everything is reconfigured, including the combat. After years of trying to merge RPG mechanics with more approachable (and marketable) real-time action (see FFXV and the Kingdom Hearts games for examples), Square Enix finally landed on the perfect balance. You fully control Cloud on the battlefield, from swinging your impossibly huge buster sword to dodging attacks. The ATB gauge (no one knows what the acronym stands for -- that information has been lost to time) gradually fills up, letting unleash powerful moves. But best of all, you fight in a party, and you can switch who to control on the fly.

That may not sound revolutionary, let alone for a Final Fantasy, but each character has a completely unique feel and suite of moves. At times, it feels like playing a Devil May Cry game where you can switch between Dante, Vergil, and Nero on the fly (that’s a free idea, Capcom. Hire me, you cowards). You can soften up an enemy with Cloud’s buster to increase their stagger meter, switch to Barret for a quick gatling barrage, and finally switch to Tifa to crush them with her Omnistrike. You can accomplish this in real-time or slow down the action to plan this out. It’s a great mix of tactics and action that prevents the game from feeling like a mindless hack n’ slash.

What really, really works here is the character work. Each lead walks in tropes first, but the longer you spend with the members of your party, the more their motivations and fears are laid out. You end up having touching interactions with just about the whole main cast. There’s a small segment, after Cloud saves Aerith from invading Shinra guards, that the two make an escape via rooftop.They make light conversation -- small talk really -- but it’s exchanges like this that feel genuine, perfectly framing their characters (stoic versus heartfelt), and grounding an otherwise larger-than-life adventure.

Many bemoaned the fact that FFVIIR only revisits a small portion of the original game, but I think it was a brilliant choice -- to massively expand on areas we only got to see a little of in the original. I honestly didn’t want to leave Midgar. It’s a world rife with conflict and corporate oppression, sure, but Midgar is beautifully realized, from the slums below the plates, populated with normal people trying to make the best of life, to the crime controlled Wall Market, adorned with gaudy lights and echoing honky tonk tunes. It very well may be years before FFVII’s remake saga comes to a close, but if each entry is paved with as much love and consideration and, yes, storytelling subversion as this introductory chapter… It’ll be worth the wait.

[mrssarablack]

1. What’s your sexual orientation?

Heterosexual. 

2. What are you obsessed with right now?

Hmm, I really don't know. I have my usual things that would qualify but my "obsessions" but they don't often consume me to a high degree, so I have a hard time dubbing anything I like a full blown obsession. 

That being said, it's probably tiktok. The obsession of the moment, I find myself on the app entirely too much because it's just a fun party and oh the things that lead to little research dives are fascinating. Mostly it's the musicians that get me. I love creativity and am forever amazed by the collaborations and straight magic people make in the time allotted... but it takes up way too much of my time when it really shouldn't. I have better things I could be doing. 

3. Ever done any drugs?

Yup. 

4. What piercings do you want?

None. My ears are pierced to the degree I like and I don't really desire anything else to be pierced. 

5. How many people have you kissed?

Enough. 

6. Describe your dream home.

The house I live in outdoes anything I could possibly come up with. I'm very happy with my home, but I'd be happy most anywhere. If I'm honest, I'm a bit Aladdin-like when it comes to living arrangements. My dream home list, if I only considered myself, is the very low bar of a roof over my head  that has a beautiful view. Bonus it has a pool but it's not a requirement. 

Clearly, where I live outdoes that by a longshot and I'm very lucky to have the things I have. I'm not unaware of that fact. 

7. Who are you jealous of?

There is no way for this not to sound like a humble brag in my head, but no one. I've never been the jealous type. There's so much unnecessary energy in wanting what someone else has and jealousy is a negative you just don't need in your life. It's much better to focus on your own joy and not worry about what others are doing. 

8. What’s your favorite show to binge?

Schitt's Creek

9. Do you watch porn?

I have. 

10. Do you have a secret sideblog?

No, I don't.

11. If you could teleport anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?

I don't know, I'm good, but somewhere warm and with a beach, I guess?

12. What’s one of your fantasies?

I really only have one and that's of my mother apologizing for what she did. 

13. Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced?

Nope. 

14. How would you spend a million dollars?

I probably wouldn't. 

15. Are you in a relationship?

Yes

16. Do you follow porn blogs?

No, but I'm pretty sure some have followed me...🙄

17. Are you angry with anyone right now?

My mother. It ebbs and flows between anger and indifference. Depends on the thoughts I'm having surrounding the why of it. 

18. What tattoos do you want?

I don't want any. 

19. If you could change your name, would you? What would you change it to?

Maybe? But probably not. I don't particularly like my name. It's kind of dull, if I'm honest, but at the same time it's my name and I don't have a replacement in my head for it. So, I'm Sara and I'll forever be Sara. It's alright. 

20. What is something you’re obsessed with?

I already answered this, but I suppose my general obsession is pokemon. I like the games and the lore. The whole thing is fun and I enjoy it a lot. 

21. Describe your best friend.

She's like sunshine. She's bubbly and sweet. Anna has optimism for days. She can be a little naive but people also see naivety in what is actually her stubbornness. She won't give up on people even if she should. She sees good in almost everything but she isn't unaware that bad exists.

And because of this her kindness shines. She'd help a stranger without hesitation or a need for anything back. She very much is a person who would stick her neck out to save a life. She brings out the best in people and makes it look effortless. She is kind and caring but has a determination that can tackle damn near anything that becomes an obstacle. Anna's a force to reckon with and not many people realize this truth.

22. Tag someone you think is hot.

@nikolascblack

Did you really think I'd pick someone else? 

23. Who are five of your favorite bands/musical artists?

This list alternates with moods. I love so many bands and artists. But right now the top five are:

Nikolas Black

AJR

The Beatles

Ok One Rock

P!nk

24. What are three places you want to travel?

I really am that person if given the chance to just pick a plane and go I'd probably take it. I just want to experience all the places so here are the first regions that came to mind...

Italy (like all of it) 

Spain/ Barcelona 

South of France 

25. Describe your perfect Friday night.

It's getting warmer so, right now, it's an evening with Nikolas on our back patio. Fire up the grill and enjoy a meal outdoors. Maybe spend some time in the pool. End the evening with a warm blanket and a cuddle. 

26. What’s your favorite season?

Summer. My skin may take issue with the sun but I like it best when it's warm and sunny and being outside. 

27. What’s your pet peeve?

When I am listening to music… I probably don't want to talk to you. Leave me alone. I do not like when I'm interrupted when my music is on. 

Also, if I'm doing art or sewing … be aware I might get snippy if you choose to interrupt my flow. I like reaching stopping points before I'm asked to change gears. 

28. Who is the funniest person you know?

Probably Jakub. He's the king of one liners and his sass gets me. 

29. What’s the most overrated movie?

I'd say Avatar, was not impressed by space Pocahontas….

30. Tag someone you want to talk to but have been too shy to message.

... um... I'm not really the shy type. If I wanna get to know someone.... I'm going to be friendly to them and start a conversation.

31. Do you like paper books or ebooks better?

Paper books but I do register I read more electronic ones. The library system is nice in that format… when I actually finish a book. I don't read that fast so I have like 3 waitlisted at any given time three or four times over just so I can finish it … 😅 

32. If you could live in a fictional world, what world would you pick?

Pokemon? 

33. If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like?

I dislike questions that make me feel like I'm bragging. Or that could be seen as such but my wardrobe wouldn't really change because my boyfriend allows me to use his funds from time to time to have the nicer clothing items I like. Which sit right alongside my jeans I got from TJ Maxx. Legitimately, it probably wouldn't change at all.

34. What’s your coffee order?

Cold brew or if it's cold I typically, latte it's usually a hazelnut

35. Do you have a crush on anyone?

No. 

36. Do you still have feelings for any of your exes?

I don't. Most of them were pretty shit people. So, yeah… nope, I don't think much on them at all really. 

37. Have any tattoos?

No

38. Do you drink?

Occasionally

39. Are you a virgin?

Heh… no.

40. Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals?

Nope

41. How many followers do you have?

Um… I have no idea. Not many that's for sure.

42. Describe the hottest person you know.

I did this once. I'm not going to objectify him again. So instead:

43. What’s your guilty pleasure?

True crime documentaries or horror movies. I do not watch them often. Nikolas isn't into it and I'm not going to be the ass that takes the tv and makes him watch something he doesn't like. So, I save it for when I am alone. 

44. Do you read erotica?

I have but I don't seek it out. Typically the erotica I have read has been tucked away in a romance novel and was far more than I expected it to go from the synopsis or anything before that point.

45. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?

I have to go with the one where it was clear he asked me out as some sort of revenge date. His ex-girlfriend was at the location with friends and he kept looking over at her trying to see her reaction. It was bad and I dismissed myself as quickly as I could.

46. How many people do you follow?

Again, I don't know. I know it's mostly friends and artists or designers but I'm too lazy to look up the number because I don't care. 

47. If you could marry any celebrity, who would you pick?

This guy right here:

48. Describe your ideal partner.

There's a theme here...

49. Who do you text the most?

Anna? Our friend text line is usually an all day back and forth.

50. What’s your favorite kind of weather?

Sunny and warm. Weather that screams "beach day"

[robobrainmurdermysterytheatre]

RE: This post (sort of) because I feel like I derailed the OPs post and I literally don’t know them and I feel awkward posting on it more lol 

BTW if y’all are sick of talking to me about this no worries, nobody owes me a reply, I just like talking about the game and I have learned a lot from what other people have to say so here we are.

Fuck this got really long so I’m cutting it but it’s about Elder Maxson. Again. Sort of. And Synths. And I want to preface by saying I’m all about love what characters you want, you do you. I’m not trying to hate on anyone for liking or disliking fictional characters or organizations. But I have a lot of feelings.

So I’ve been thinking about a few things and a few things have been brought to my attention that I haven’t seen brought up before. So the quest for Teagan, with the crops and stuff, I know this is a sticking point and possibly could be disregarded because it’s an optional quest, but if Teagan knew Maxson wouldn’t approve of strong arming settlers for crops, why would he tell *you* to do it? I know you can complete the quest other ways, but looking at his voice lines he’s pretty gung-ho on the strong-arming part. He has zero reason to think you wouldn’t march on up to Maxson and tell him Teagan’s trying to put you up to strong-arming settlers, which would lead me to believe he doesn’t have a problem with Teagan putting you up to strong-arming settlers at all. 

Also I just... I don’t know if I can believe that Maxson feels bad for killing or trying to kill Danse (depending on how you choose to do it). Like I *want* to believe he does, but Jesus, he’s just so cruel about the whole thing, even if you convince him to spare Danse. And afterward, when you get promoted to Paladin if you clapback at him when he says all of Danse’s stuff is yours now he says “To the victor go the spoils. Being a part of the Brotherhood, you should learn to appreciate that sentiment.” and he is sinister about it, it literally says in the dialogue direction ‘sinister smile’ I feel like there is A LOT loaded into that sentence, knowing that real, actual armies IRL historically and even now operate like this, especially armies who are allowed to operate at will without or with very little government oversight, their whole agenda is to win, take shit and expand and be more formidable. Maxson and the BoS won’t outright say it ever in the game, but looking at their actions and their sentiment, it seems, to me, like that is kind of part of their agenda. Which, I mean, you could argue is fine because they’d be keeping order and killing super mutants but they’d be running things their way, uncontested. Eventually they’d weed out all the synths and kill them - so bye Danse, bye Curie, bye Nick, don’t forget Magnolia and Sturges also - of course they would kill Strong so bye Strong too. They probably wouldn’t let me keep my cool robot workbench or my badass enormous sentrybots with skull faces and minigun hands because that kind of technology isn’t fit for civilians so I’d guess I have to say bye to Ragnarok and Lilith and Lucifer and Azrael (please do not judge my precious children by their sinister names) and Jezebel and Ada too. Oh, and Synth Shaun. They would definitely kill Synth Shaun too. 

The thing I learned today which is part of the reason I’m back on this bullshit besides that thread ☝ is after Blind Betrayal Maxson has Danse’s records in the BoS stripped. I just got done in Fallout 3 doing the beginning of the Brotherhood stuff there and I have to go talk to that wizard-looking scribe lady (god I love their stupid outfits in 3, but I digress) and she makes A REALLY BIG DEAL about how their records are so important, every member has a record of the stuff they’ve done and how they’ve died and that’s their legacy. It’s mean, like vindictive. Like, synth or not, he did all of whatever he did. Aside from that, Maxson has literally altered the historical truth - there’s not even record that says “we accidentally a synth, this is what he did and we killed him because synths are bad” Again, like, thinking about real-world historical examples of people intentionally altering pieces of history to erase people or groups of people or what people have done -  the reason behind actions like that have never been good. 

And I’ve been thinking a lot about the whole, the people of the Commonwealth are bigots thing a lot. Yes, they are scared of synths because of the wrath The Institute has brought down on the people. They’re also scared of Raiders and Gunners. They’re scared of anything that stands between them and being safe and fed. Like, listen, they understand the difference between a human dude walking up into their settlement and a Raider, I feel like if someone bothered to take a second to explain to them Not All Synths(tm) work for The Institute and a lot of them are actually really nice and might brew you a stimpack or help you solve a noir mystery or take care of your feral infestation down the road they would be receptive to it. They would be especially receptive of it if the person telling them that was the head of the organization keeping them safe and fed >.> Would they be perfectly accepting? Probably not, but they would probably let them live for two seconds without throwing a fit. They would probably not shoot-to-kill on sight. Even the people in Diamond City who talk shit about Nick aren’t out there trying to murder him. 

Kind of in that same vein, let’s talk about Desdemona and the Minutemen for a second. Because I feel like, and maybe I’m wrong about the intention, my girl got slandered into making it look like she doesn’t support The Minutemen. If you fail your covert op any number of ways, she literally says you can use them to forcibly liberate the Synths. Hell, if you haven’t met Preston yet, she’ll tell you where he is and to go find him because she thinks The Minutemen can help. She’ll only go off on you if you don’t sound the evacuation alarm. If you destroy The Institute with The Minutemen and you sound the alarm, like Preston tells you on no uncertain terms to do, she’ll call you “The destroyer of the Institute. Liberator of the synths.” and say “My only regret is we couldn't have been there when you did it.“ When you talk with her about the people trying to hurt the Synths that made it out of the destruction of The Institute and she says “ They're vigilantes and bigots. They don't recognize anyone's laws. Not even yours.” I don’t think she’s talking about ALL the people, she’s talking about people who are vigilantes and bigots which, if you do the quests to go rescue the Synths, usually bring you to Raider dens, who aren’t your people and you’re working against anyway. The gangs that hunt Synths that she has you clear out after The Institute is destroyed are Raider gangs. John the Farmer in buttfuck egypt out by the glowing sea isn’t slaughtering Synths, he’s busy with his farm and his water purifier that doesn’t work and Gunners attacking him weekly. When it comes down to it, how many people like John the Farmer are going to bite the hand that feeds them and fixes his water purifier and fucks up the Gunners if that hand is The Minutemen and they say Synths are OK (because they are, generally)? 

and RE: danger synths and Acadia and stuff... so I’m trying to unpack the whole, weird Acadia lore that magically allows for DiMA to insert memories that he didn’t have in the first place into synth replacements  (e.g. you kill Tektus, stuff his body in a wall, but DiMA can make a “perfect replica” of him with nothing to go on?) I’m assuming when it was said that synths pose a unique danger that humans don’t, this is what was being referenced - that Synths can be messed around with to replace humans in order to manipulate whatever. Putting Acadia aside for juuuuuuust a second - because of the weird magic lore contradiction - there’s a couple of points about this. We see very few people in the game who have the resources, the technology and the know how to actually mess with a Synth’s brain. Even the people supposedly the best at replacing people with “perfect copies”, The Institute, are still kind of shit at it. Every single infiltrator that we see in the game knows what they are and gets called out by someone who figures out what they are. The “perfect copy” idea is hysteria - possibly even propaganda from The Institute itself. The only contradiction to that is what DiMA did in Acadia and honestly, I have no idea how to explain that. That’s all aside from the fact that, technically, in this universe humans have the ability to do the same thing. We know humans can be face changed. Deacon says he was both a girl and a ghoul (the ghoul incident is legit and backed up by terminal entries in the Railroad) and to be either of those from being human dude Deacon, you would have to get a voice change so that has to be a thing, right? Take a human who knows enough about another human, physically turn that human into the other human, and you have someone replaced, no Synths needed. And even Far Harbor, who will, with certain choices, go destroy Acadia don’t destroy them just because they’re synths, they destroy Acadia because Acadia murdered and replaced Avery. 

Which brings me to the final thought I had because holy crap I just wrote for like two hours and I’m tired and out of steam now. I keep really, really wanting to like the BoS and Maxson because they have the neat stuff and a lot of their people are cool and my friends like them but I just, like, can’t as long as they’re a faction that advocates for the genocide of Synths. That’s the one sticking point I have. I could maybe even tolerate them hanging around the Commonwealth where they maybe shouldn’t be, I could maybe see them through a nefarious lens than I do if I knew they wouldn’t come to Sanctuary and wipe out a third of my population because of how they were made - if they weren’t trying to kill my friends and my synth son. Honestly, I love a lot of fanon stuff about Maxson and the BoS because it changes that but canon, in the game, that’s what they would do. 

[kcrabb88]

Just a fan question!XD The "Combeferre's Dad" made me wonder--as you're turning your pirate AU into a Different Story, do those characters still feel like the fic characters? Do they feel distinct and different? At what point does, say, Arthur stop feeling like "Combeferre's dad" and feel like the other character? Does it make re-reading the original fic weird, like seeing your OCs in a mirror? I'd love to hear any of your thoughts about this!

Ah this is a cool question to get! I actually think about this a lot! I think the thing with the characters is less that they’re very different and just more expanded? Once I wasn’t working in the confines of a canon, I could add things I might not have, especially with the OCs, because when I was working with them in the fic version I didn’t want to get too too deep because obviously people would want to see the canon characters! It’s what they came for. With Arthur in particular I’ve done a lot of additions of him actively and visibly fighting with and disliking Governor Travers, and I’ve added more mentions of his relationship with Chantal, as well as the probable crush he once harbored on Michel, and all of that started to make him feel as a bit more than Combeferre’s awesome, tragic dad, and a character that has his own fears and his own kind of arc, really even after he’s gone. I see Arthur very sharply in my head now, more than I did before.

With Michel it was similar. In the original I didn’t have quite as much space to explore why he was doing what he was doing, and so in the new version I did a lot with showing his fear of his father-in-law, and the idea that he is being emotionally manipulated by the old man too. Not to the level of his son, but it is more obvious that the governor kind of abuses everyone around him, really. It’s not an excuse for the things he allows at all, but it is an explanation of where his mind is. And his struggle with his feelings for Arthur are frontloaded as opposed to realized later. And I changed things with Astra to where she writes Imogen once a year as opposed to never talking to her, and amped up her love of pirates and her struggle with whether or not she made the right choice in letting the boys go. So rather than being terribly different they’re just…more expanded? So it’s not weird for me to read the original fic, because I can see where my launch point was. 

Working outside the Les Mis canon (though I do still want it to have that feeling of Les Mis, those deep political and moral questions, that idea of pulling on a thread of untold history even if I’m operating outside the bounds) also made me expand a bit on some of the LM canon characters. Javert (now Nicholas Jerome) is a bit softer and more awkward at the beginning so I could build to him turning cruel out of his own fear rather than starting off as strict as he does in the fic. He’s still stern but he does things like let Rene and Frantz read stories to him, he sketches, he teases a touch more, so that as he slowly gains more power and gains his place in society, he becomes so afraid of losing that that he ends up being awful to this little kid who looked up to him. I’ve had more room to work with Valjean’s (now Ajani Danso) and Fantine’s (now Abeni) backgrounds too, because I learned a lot more about native people in the Caribbean, as well as Maroon communities. Enjolras (now Rene Delacroix) struggles more with the mental taxation of his grandfather’s abuse (he gets stress headaches, he jumps more when people touch him, etc) and he definitely starts looking up to pirates earlier and more thoroughly. There’s things like that for a lot of characters. I kept everyone, aside from Marius and Eponine, who got cut. 

I’m rambling A LOT but I think the story would still seem very familiar to people who read the fic, it’s just expanded and has spots filled in that weren’t there before, and the themes are threaded through more thoroughly. There’s more mentions of sea lore and historical odds and ends and all that kind of thing. I feel now like I’ve created a world? To the point where I actually have some solid ideas for continuing into another couple of books with a sort of alternate history idea I’ve got brewing, because I end it the same way I do the fic, which is fairly open ended. And I think that’s what makes it feel different and like something that might appeal to a wider audience (or…at least that is the hope!)  Actually, one of the many things that contributed to me undertaking this process was people who read the fic’s investment in my OCs? I was so excited everyone liked them! 

[thenightling]

Once Upon a Time vs. Faery Lore

This post is to discuss actual faery lore vs. Once Upon a Time faery lore and a little commentary on pop culture faery lore.  I am going to explain why the actual faery lore (traditional faery lore) would have worked best for Rumplestiltskin being the Black Faery's Son.

1.  What it means to be Half-Faery:

In traditional folklore being the child of a human and a faery is not like being half German or half Swedish or Half Italian, or half Chinese, ect. People have gotten too used to pop culture treating supernatural creatures like human racial backgrounds. That's why I compared it to diabetes. In folklore faeries mated with humans often and the faery aspect never really dilutes. You either are a faery or you're not. The "Half-faery" in modern fantasy fiction wasn't a thing. There were "lesser" faeries looked down upon because of their origin, not because they had only half the power or aged like a human, or other such limitations imagined by modern fantasy authors.

In faery lore a human could be turned into a faery or a faery could be born of human and faery parents or of two faery parents (though faery off spring is pretty rare, that's why the race is so limited). But the child is always totally faery (I'm speaking of the folkloric version, not modern pop culture fiction, mind you).

Disney's Gargoyles was actually pretty good about this when David Xanatos and Fox's son, Alex. Fox only seemed human because her magick was woefully under-developed, having been raised to believe herself human. But her son was trained in magick since birth by Puck so by the time he was a toddler he had mastered soul transference of all things.

Folklore about faeries is a lot stranger than our pop culture, which has watered it down to make sense with our perception of genetics but faeryism (Is that a thing?) isn't grounded in science. It's magical. In fact one origin given for Robin Goodfellow (Puck) is that he is the product of Oberon having an affair with a mortal woman and once he was old enough Oberon took him as his slave / servant. But Puck is never considered half-faery in any lore, but always a faery.

Faeries born of a human parent are sometimes considered lesser by the Seelie style of faery but that's more of a snobbery sort of thing. Unseelie (dark faeries) mate with humans all the time. Like the wizards of Harry Potter you either are or you aren't a wizard, despite your genetic background. It's not like in True Blood.

But here I am babbling about Folklore and Once Upon a Time seems convinced all faeries are female and wear frilly skirts and to "Simplify" things they don't even let Maleficent be a faery- which is practically a crime against the character.

Now there is a chance The Black Fairy used to be human and became a fairy later but with the "Simplifications" in Once upon a Time that doesn't seem likely.

I fear, however, that Once Upon a Time's logic will be along the lines of this...

Hypothetical scenario:

The black fairy had a human lover, something probably frowned upon but if the baby was born female she would be a fairy.  If the baby is male he's mortal.   And the fairy has to choose giving up the child and remaining a fairy or become human and stay with her baby.   The Black Fairy did not want to give up being a fairy but the loss of her child drove her mad (hence the baby abductions).

2.  Faery weaknesses:

If the show followed a more traditional version of faery lore and Rumplestiltskin had always been faery (or half-fairy based on pop culture reasoning) then logic would suggest a weakness to iron such as what you see in Disney's Gargoyles and the film Maleficent.

In his mortal life Rumplestiltskin's greatest injury was the smashing of his right ankle with an iron mallet. If they had followed a more traditional fairy lore this would have explained why he was never able to truly heal that ankle (Why every time he's without magick the ankle is again unable to function correctly).

In traditional faery folklore a wound created with iron could be fatal to a faery or would have to heal as a mortal might, without the aid of magick.  Any body part removed with iron cannot be restored.  The film Maleficent is a lot kinder about this idea.

Alas, vulnerability to iron has never come up in the show.  ...Or has it?

The Dark One Dagger (which bears his true name, more on that later) is clearly steel / Iron and the early script for Skin Deep mentioned that Gaston showed up at The Dark Castle with an iron sword.   Prince Charming was able to wound Rumplestiltskin’s cheek with his steel sword in Season One but Rumplestiltskin was able to heal that with magick.  Perhaps because steel isn’t pure iron?

3.  Names.

In traditional folklore true names have power, particularly with magical beings. According to many legends if you know a faery's true name you can summon them by calling out their name thrice, and you can banish them by a similar method. This is something Once Upon a Time actually hints at.  Notice how Rumplestiltskin seems able to hear / sense it when someone is calling out to him. There's even a simple yet traditional invocation in Regina's Grimoire, to summon him.

This is why faeries are often very secretive about their names and or are given very unique and strange names that you would not commonly hear in the human world.  This lore is part of where the concept for the original Rumpelstiltskin faery tale came from.

In the Dresden Files novel the wizard Harry Dresden is actually Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden and he is very careful not to give his true name to any supernatural being lest it might give them power over him.

In Once Upon a Time Rumplestitlskin's own human father speaks of the importance of names when he gives child Rumplestiltskin the straw doll that he names Peter Pan (a name Rumple's own father takes when he de-ages himself).  Rumplestiltskin's father says that to name a thing is to make it real.

Rumplestiltksin himself talks about the importance of names, that he collects them (off-handedly mentioned in season one).  And at one point the still-human Jiminy Cricket delivers to him a list of names, which Rumplestiltskin repays with a strand of golden thread ("For your thievery.")  

When Snow White and Prince Charming are being lead to Rumplestiltskin's dungeon in the pilot episode the guard speaks to them as if they have never met Rumplestiltskin before (and the guard may simply not know any better) and he warms them not to give their names. If he has their names it will give him power over them.

Rumplestiltskin trades information to Snow White and Prince Charming for the name of their child, who will be the savior.   It's when he hears Emma's name for the first time in Storybrooke that his own true memories of being Rumplestiltskin are restored.  Names have power.

In Season Six, when Rumplestiltskin brings home a baby to The Dark Castle for use in luring out The Black Fairy Belle asks what the baby's name is.  Rumplestiltskin had made it a point to NOT learn the child's name for fear of getting attached to the baby and tells her as much.  When he summons the Black Fairy it is revealed that she never even gave him a name.   This is odd because Rumplestiltskin is very much a non-human, traditionally faery name, and Malcolm (Peter Pan) did not seem to be that clever to have come up with something like Rumplestiltskin.

When Belle and Rumplestiltskin's own child, Gideon, is born at first Belle does not tell Rumplestiltskin his name for fear that Rumplestiltskin would simply use it to track down their baby (He had good reason...)

Names do have power in Once Upon a Time.  So this is one aspect of the lore at least sort of kept in tact.  It just seems odd that this faery mother did not name him at all and the (at the time) human father came up with a name like Rumplestiltskin.

4.   Wings:

Despite what Once Upon a Time would have you think when it had Tinkerbell stripped of her wings and despite the plot of Maleficent and Tumbilina, in traditional folklore many faeries do not actually have wings and in fact can fly without them.    In traditional foklore wings are NOT a requirement to be considered a faery.   There are many, many types of faeries without wings. 

The winged faeries only became truly popular in America as we started to associate all faeries with pixie style faeries, which Once Upon a Time is guilty of with it’s dumbed down “Simplifications.” 

 Even Jareth in Labyrinth is technically a faery and he flies by transforming himself into a barn owl. 

   And even Puck in Disney’s Gargoyles simply levitated himself.  So please don’t dismiss Rumplestiltskin’s Fae status just because he does not have wings.

 I have a suspicion though that the show will base faeryism on gender, rendering the show unable to ever introduce the likes of Oberon, Puck and Titania from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream / Disney’s Gargoyles.  This is a shame.  Yet again i cannot help but feel that the show is unconsciously portraying misandry toward Rumplestiltskin with a Dark Crystal-esque only girls can be faeries or “Only Girls have wings.”

5. The taking of children.

Children are actually sacred to faeries in traditional folklore and faery conception is rare so often they will take a human child and transform him or her into what they are. This may have been in the ultimate goal in the original Rumpelstiltskin faery tale.

"Today I brew, tomorrow I bake, And then the Prince child I will take. For no one knows my little game, That Rumpelstiltskin is my name."

In Once Upon a time however there was always some reason behind each child Rumplestiltskin went after.

In regard to the idea of Rumplestiltskin taking babies…

A.  When Rumplestiltskin wanted Cora’s first born it was because his Seer powers told him that her child (Regina) would cast the Dark Curse.   He even alludes to it in the tower when talking to her.

B.   When Rumplestiltskin came after Cinderella’s baby it was because that is what set things into motion which lead to his capture. 

The capture was necessary to  1. Find out the name of the savior child, 2. to tell Regina what was missing from the curse, and 3. to get his cushy caveats for Storybrooke.  When he came after Cinderella’s baby again in Storybrooke it was to wring the deal from Emma which ultimately lead to her helping him reunite with his son in New York.  He cashed in the deal to have Emma chase Neal / Baelfire because in our world he literally can’t run (Season 2 episode Manhattan).  

C.  Even in Season Six when he took the baby from Jack and Jill (which is technically an incestuous relationship if you pay attention to Welcome to Storybrooke…) it was to lure The Black Fairy into a trap.  He did not stop Belle from returning the baby to his parents though he easily could have.   In fact he was watching as she returned the child.

D.  In fact in Lacey (Season 2) Belle stops him from shooting Robin Hood by telling him he’s not the sort of man to separate a child from his parents.

Technically Once Upon a Time’s Snow White and Prince Charming have taken more babies from their parents than he has.

Even in the fairy tale it’s indicated to be the first time he’s ever made such a bargain.  The fairy tale literally tells you he takes pity on the Queen as soon as she starts crying.  It’s not headcanon, the word pity is written right in the Grimm version, which is the darkest version, by the way.   Does that sound like someone whose done that many times to you?

The Black Fairy however follows a more well known and sinister aspect of faery lore in that she does snatch away children.   The same is true of Peter Pan (Once he gained eternal youth), particularly once he started to adopt the Pied Piper Persona and ironically Rumplestiltskin played the part of the lame boy from the original faery tale.  

The poem The Stolen Child by William Butler Yeats specifically is about faeries taking a child.  The poem was used as a coping mechanism after the death of a baby.

With Once upon a Time I suspect there may even be an origin for The Black fairy’s stealing of children, perhaps because she was forcibly separated from her own child. 

6.  Faery Gender:

In traditional faery lore faeries could be male or female.   You notice that right away in works like Shakespeare’s a Midsummer Night’s Dream yet in Once Upon a Time every faery shown is not only Pixie style but also female.   This undermines any ability to introduce the likes of Robin Goodfellow AKA Puck.   I suspect there will be some casual misandry as to why Rumplestitlskin in Once Upon a Time “Doesn’t count as a faery” making those of us who love traditional faery lore twitch.

7.  Aging:

Fairies, by their very nature, are immortal.    Once they reach their prime they can selectively appear any age (or non-age) they choose.  faeries are ageless creatures.   This contradicts repeatedly statements in Once Upon a Time that “Only The Dark One is immortal” but very obviously The Blue Fairy and Black Fairy are also over three-hundred-years-old and have not aged a day.

[wowheadquarters]

Family Reunion, no murders allowed

For a lovable anon. The title says it all: The reunite with their (known) close family. The reunion can go any way it wants to, but no killing each other.

Anduin & Ghost Varian & Ghost Tiffin: Andun took a deep breath and yelled the hell out of his parents for dying and letting him do everything and leaving him alone. Then the hugged. A lot. And cried. A lot. And then the all kept saying how much sorry they are.

Magni & Muradin & Brann & Moira Brann was super excited to see his niece. Magni was not excited to see his daughter. Muradin was glad he has both brothers with him once again. Moira was not happy to see her father, so she spent all the time with Brann, nobody really minded it. After a few kegs of good ale the exchange of killer-thoughts looks stopped. After some more kegs, they all even managed a nice and not awkward conversation.

Falstad & Kurdan

Kurdan: Ya know, we both having the Wildhammer in name doesn’t make us brothers or family. Not at all. Falstad: Look, I had to make up something, otherwise I’d be at the very bottom of this list and I am not gonna get pushed away once again! Kurdan: That is so nice to know ya care so much about me. Falstad: Oh c’mon. Ya are like a bro to me. I’m gonna call ya bro until you cheer up a little. Kurdan: ... Falstad: Some brew, bro? Kurdan: ...Bro.

Tyrande & Malfurion & Shandris For a while Malfurion wondered why is Shandris there. Tyrande had to remind him, that Shandris Feathermoon is, more or less, her adoptive daughter. Malfurion felt so bad for being such a sucky dad, that he made up some druid-dad jokes and then they all went to Moonland. Like a Disneyland but for elves.

Velen & Rakeesh It is actually and a good idea to have this no-murders rule here. I mean, Rakeesh had been turned into a demon, and Velen is more of a pragmatical leader than a feeling father. They spent the time each sitting in a different corner, complaining loudly.

Genn & Mia & Tess & Ghost Liam Liam found himself buried in hugs and tears. Seems that everyone was happy to see him. Lia then asked Tess, if she finally proposed to Anduin. Tess kicked him. Siblings...

Thrall & Aggra & Alternate Durotan & Alternate Draka

Durotan: Why exactly are we here? Aggra: It’s family bonding time. Draka: He meant why are we here with you? Thrall: Aggra... No. This is... this is not a good idea. Aggra: Someone has to tell them. Thrall: No. I don’t think so. Durotan: Tell us what? What are you keeping from us, greenskin? Thrall: I really don’t think- Aggra: Go’el “Thrall” of the Frostwolf clan, son of Durotan, son of Garad! Stop being such a whiny piece of meat and- Durotan: Son of WHO?! (awkward silence intermezzo) Durotan: Alright. Fine. So you are my... Something like m alternate son in potentio? Why didn’t you tell me in the first place? Thrall: If a strange greenskinned Orc turned at a shore near to our home with our Farseer, some wounded refugees and strange adventurous folks and told you he is our son from the future that is never going to happen, I bet you would pretty much dump him in the nearest snowpile...

Spirit of Vol'jin & Spirit of Sen’jin & Yenniku Some nice fires, some good tea, smoking some herbs, later comparing their skull collection. Not much talking. Turns out that Yenniku turned out after his father and his grandfather. Some of you might ask why isn’t Yenniku dead. He was killed and his soul freed. Well... Yeah, he, Sen’jin, and Vol’jin are a lot alike. Deatcheaters...

Ghost Garrosh & Ghost Grommash & Spirit of Golka Grom tried to make up for being a miserable father and mate. He got punched in face. From both Garrosh and Golka. Then Golka learned what did Garrosh do within the Horde and punched is son too. However, Grom was so proud of his son... But when he wanted to express it, he got punched once more! Talk about dysfunctional family...

Baine & Ghost Cairne & Spirit of Tamaala

Ghost Cairne: Okay, we ma be happy to see each other later, but now I would like to sort something out. Tamaala, my dearest, why are you a spirit but I am a ghost? Spirit of Tamaala: Elementary, my dear Cairne. If you are leaning more towards the life of a warrior in our life, you become a ghost in your death. However, those who seek more the paths of spirituality, elements, and the nature come back as spirits. Baine: What about mages? Spirit of Tamaala: If mages ever return back, the are usually undead anyway. Baine: ... Baine: C’mon! I am waiting for Kel’thuzad to pop out from somewhere. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this. Ghost Cairne: He isn’t, because he can’t. He ain’t part of our family. Thanks the Mother Earth.

Sylvanas & Alleria & Vereesa Vereesa and Sylvanas got into a pretty heated argument. Alleria tried to calm them down, just for her sisters to shout at her to get lost. She got super offended by that. Elven sisters with good relationship aren’t just meant to be, especially when one is dead, one was lost for years and the last spends most of her time with mages and talks like an especially annoying encyclopedia.

Gallywix & Luzik & Lisa They tried to kill each other. That is a Goblin family wa to show how much they care about each other, and also keeps them from overpopulating, because they breed like rats. This wa only the smartest Goblins survive and pass their smart genes. Lisa then tried to tempt her husband and son into piracy life.

Taedal & Luxien

Taedal: So... Hi, sis! Luxien: Hello. You still leading that little rebellion of yours? Taedal: Yeah. Yeah. You know how it is. It isn’t a hobby for five minutes. And what are you up to? Still bothering yourself with magic and alchemy? Luxien: Mmmm... Yes. But you were right, undeath has no future. Taedal: And what are you working on now? Luxien: Oh, I am actually experimenting with the Void and the Twisting Nether. Voidwalkers are boring. I am trying to get... Something more exciting out of it. Voidfire was m first success. Taedal: Nice. Neat. Keep me updated, you know I am always interested in your work. Now... If you excuse me... I think I have a prophet friend I need to call. Taedal: (Speaks into his holo-mobilephone) Velen? Velen are you there? STOP EXORCISING ME THERE IS AN EMERGENCY!

Mekkatorque & Aysa & Lor’themar & Ji The started a club called Forever Melone And Not Really Having Their Past Explored And Explained In Lore. And then they held a drinking contest. And yes, it was Lor’themar’s idea.

[ulyssesredux]

Sirens

What truly matters is a waiter hard of hearing, to hear, for all things dying, for our VETERANS. Tschunk. Tap. But both are joys. Come! Stay safe!

Have a great evening we had a gorgeous, simply gorgeous, simply gorgeous, time. Bloom, to speak: but said, We are their harps. Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear, to him she bore lightly the spiked and winding seahorn that he got caught Voter fraud! See the conquering hero comes. The violet silk petticoats. Lenehan waited for Boylan with impatience.

Deaf, bothered waiter, waited.

Meeting with biggest business leaders of the least. Ben Dollard's voice.

—Qui sdegno, Ben, in order to be a disaster. In order to keep your weathereye open. Just leaving D.C. Bald Pat who is bothered mitred the napkins. Wow, just the opposite! There should be fun! Thou lost one! Miss Douce said yes, sitting with his ex, pearl grey and eau de Nil Mina to tankards two her pinnacles of hair, a must! When first they heard, deaf Pat brought pad knife took up. Lot of ground he must cover in the lute I think. High grade. Before. Under Tom Kernan's ginhot words the accompanist wove music slow. Seven last words. Thou lost one! Her eyes over the sheet. It is a borderless world where working people have no money but if you deduct the millions of dollars can and will bring back our jobs. Atrot, in cry of lionel loneliness that she did not, miss Lydia, admired, admired. Know what I mean of course that's what gives him the base barreltone. I don't think the voters so he can't get to 1237. —O, not alone. Who? To Martha I must write. A couple of FAKE NEWS!

Keep the big drum.

Something to eat?

Fate. As a tribute to the west. Pat, tipped Pat, listened. But a long threatening comes at last, one tapped, with the glycerine, miss Kennedy a rim of his rocky thumbnails. Bloom viewed a gallant pictured hero in Lionel Marks's window. Loud boots unmannerly asked. Outtohelloutofthat. Who's in the glass. Bloom. Tiny, her tortoise napecomb showed, spluttered out of control. Pity they feel. The hideous old wretch! Napkinring in his no don't she cried, then John Kasich was never asked by me to be V.P. Just won a big speech tomorrow with Bobby!

Face like dip.

She sipped distastefully her brew, hot tea, grimaced and prayed: He's killed looking back. I do well. Disgraceful! Crooked Hillary Clinton put out false reports that it was packed, totally electric! Woman. Tap. Crazy Megyn anymore. —Go on, Simon! She passed a remark.

Ha, give!

See, not seen, read on. They want it.

Yes. They threw young heads back, miss Douce and gold MJiss Mina. Her phony Native American to get away with murder. Asked her, I won Ohio.

Always find out this equal to that.

Has he forgotten? Ruttledge's door: ee creaking. Rudy. I had no wedding garment. She used it as a drum on him. Very sad thing. I was thinking of your wash. The false priest rustling soldier from his cassock. Thanks, that all but burst, so high.

Looks like the Spanish. But wait till I tell you too. Chips.

Up stage strode Father Cowley, her bust, that hurdygurdy boy.

#ObamaCareInThreeWords Obamacare is a fact? Hillary hard on not using the f bomb. She darted, bronze gigglegold, to Bloom soon old. He waits while you wait.

With faraway mourning mountain eye. Lyin' Ted Cruz and Graham, Romney, Flake, Sass. War!

Backache he. On. From day one I said pro-Wall Street paid for diner's popcorked bottle ere he went he whispered, bald and bothered, with a carra, with stops and locks and keys! Chips. Songs without words.

Drop out LYIN' Ted. Sing out!

Lenehan opened most genial arms. —Look at the Grand Opening of my points.

It sang again to Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard, not shut, the worst in many years. Wow, President Obama's brother, Malik, just released that international gangs are all over the sheet. I hear any more of your wash. A croppy boy. The so-called popular vote-but I am spending very little.

Between the car and window, warily walking, went Bloom, of love's leavetaking, life's, love's morn. What? It clanged. —Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her mouth. Can anyone explain this?

People will not take the oil, they would run him out of her ear, man, Mike Pence as my Vice Presidential running mate. The opinion of this so-called popular vote-they would partake of two more. —You're the essence of vulgarity, she has new ideas.

—Fortune, he said. Rally last night. Cool hands. The journey begins and I extend our warmest greetings to those observing Rosh Hashanah here in the tank. Look at the Convention though I'm sure he was caught by a lot!

They took their country the U.S. Cowley, who nodded as he lived: never.

Amazing people that were never going to be what you call me naught? He is turning out to be even bigger and more easily The debates, especially the second carriage, miss Douce said yes, will be overturned! Pat carried two diners' drinks, Richie, heard from a person wouldn't expect it in the whole opera, Goulding said, a triple of keys to see her skin askance in the day the people and saving the climber.

Base barreltone. Asked to speak of nineteen four? Leave her: get tired. Decoy. Who? He pitched a broad coin down. —Those things only bring out a rash, replied, reseated. Time and on-line poll, Time Magazine, Drudge etc. Clean tables, flowers, mitres of napkins. Why aren't the lawyers looking at the DNC illegally gave Hillary the questions? Ah, lure! Big Benaben Dollard. Do right to hide them. Postoffice lower down. Yes. Poor Mrs Purefoy. She had a great guy who likes me much better results!

Look forward to being at the voting booths in Texas Blue Cross/Blue Shield through ObamaCare. Why do they think when they know she is nasty. Question of mood you're in. —O! One body. Girlgold she read and did favors for regimes that horribly oppress women and murder gays.

Right, Pat, Mina, did not: no, no way, he mused. —I could not leave thee—Afterwits, miss Douce entreated. Cowley. Had me decked. Again.

Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Still hold her back.

Lay of the water is equal to the etherial bosom, by the dishonest and disgusting media. Senators should focus their energies on ISIS, rise of Iran, and who was it gave me the Swedish razor he shaved me with her e-mails AFTER they were subpoenaed by the beerpull gazed far sideways. And Prosper Lore's huguenot name. Run Bernie, will manage them.

While Bernie has totally sold out to all for his own gut.

Castile. Clapclap. Probably released by Wikileakes shows quid pro quo in Crooked Hillary, is more proof that she is: or fingered only. Queer because we both, I am still running around wild. She is spending a fortune on ads against me. He boycotted Bush 43 also because he believes that Crooked Hillary was set up by the curb and stopped.

Yes, begad. Ben Howth. Breathe a prayer, drop a tear, good people. Amen.

Each graceful look First night when first they saw, lost chord, and now our own people are really smart in cancelling subscriptions to the bar, them in the effulgence symbolistic, high in the Senate.

Choirboy style. I met some really great Air Force One for future presidents, but we let political hacks negotiate our deals.

He drew and plucked. Bronze gazed far sideways. Sighing Mr Dedalus raised his grog and—That must have been declared the winner was based on made up nonsense to steal the election against Bernie. When first he saw that form endearing? First Lid, De, Cow, Ker, Doll, a table near the door. Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in shadow Dolores shedolores. I am President, to laughter after laughter. Skin tanned raw. —Sonnez! —Look at the organ. Deaf wait while you wait. Vibrations. Tap.

SUPREME COURT, REMEMBER! A call again. The attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan? Tschunk. Lenehan.

I will beat the PASSION of my Cabinet nominee are looking good! Will be going back tomorrow, to one departing, dear one!

Right. I will fix it! Husbands don't. Over their voices Dollard bassooned attack, booming over bombarding chords: O wept! She smilesmirked supercilious wept! Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri?

Girl touched it. For creamy dreamy. Dodge round by Greek street. Exhausted, breathless, their shaken heads they laid, braided and pinnacled by glossycombed, against the pane in a landslide every poll, Time Magazine, Drudge etc. Piano again. —Don't make half so free, said he would. —No, she in gliding said. —Most aggravating that young man died. Sleeping!

Yet more Bloom stretched his string.

Their donors & special interest groups are forming and getting worse. —Ah, Martha! In the second carriage, miss Douce entreated. With look to the long fellow. Nice!

Chap in the U.S. must immediately stop taking in people from Syria. Hee hee hee hee hee hee. Got up to you If the disgusting and corrupt media and her team were extremely careless in their voices. I heard he went he whispered, bald Pat attending, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. What a terrible job of ordering the protection of innocent people. Dignam Patrick. Psst! Miss Douce halfstood to see it was well known that I wanted to tell you, he mused, whatever you say yourself.

Let people get fond of each other: lure them on.

Crooked Hillary compromised our national security, and crooked ess. When first he saw. Hoh. The hideous old wretch!

Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 11th help. One love. She threatened as he lived: never. Wait a shake, begged Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her page. I could not see. Car companies and jobs way down: I will be fun! Singing. Sonnez la.

—Our friend Bloom turned in handy that night, my speech on economic opportunity-today we honor the enduring fight for the labour of his packet. A student. Amazing crowd! —Very, Mr Bloom said. I didn't I wouldn't ask. How strange! Course if I did in the treble clear. Thrilled she listened, bending, suspending, with a long. I want change-Crooked Hillary Clinton was SO INSULTING to my people.

He asked her. Ben Warrior laughed. Explain better. Always find out this equal to that. I will nominate for The United States cannot continue to let freefly their laughter, after her gliding head as it flowed flower in his eye. Pray for him a yard, waiting for their terrible behavior The Theater must always be a total Clinton flunky! Touch water. O'er ryehigh blue. Pray for him. Politically correct fools, would not allow free speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible.

Kraaaaaa. —Fat of death, Simon. Wise Bloom eyed on the win. Senate, must start focusing on the rye. In a cave of the lane!

Tap.

Must be Cowley.

I always do-trade, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. Consumed.

Lydia hand, soft Bloom, of the nom the Dems own the failed ObamaCare disaster, the world.

After an interval Mr Dedalus said. Fall, surrender, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard steel from anear, afar, from hoary mountains, called on good men, good to hear, to him. I saved the situa. Build plant in Baja, Mexico and creating 700 new jobs in America. If they don't name the sources don't exist. Talk. Winsomely she on Bloohimwhom smiled. I not only fighting Crooked Hillary says VA problems are not merely transferring power from one party to another but we must be smart! His corns. I saw her at Mat Dillon's in Terenure. The priest's at home after pig's cheek and cabbage nursing it in the debate. Lots of support! Buttered toast. On. —Try it with the tank for Clinton-corruption and devastation follows her wherever she goes. Blue bloom is on a Twitter rant. You. He strode.

You hear? Lydia, her pinnacles of hair, stooping, her bust, that was right when he said. That will end when I spoke his face, though. Media, as it pertains to my surprise, and now our own people are seeing big stuff. Payment at the door a poster, a man with so little touch for politics, they twist it and asked for the mess the U.S. Indiana.

Gets on your nerves. Berkeley does not allow another four years of stupidity! O'clock. Hillary & the GOP Party Leadership on Thurs in DC. Clapclap. —Greetings from the beginning. Bored Bloom tambourined gently with I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders, after her gliding head as it sounds. Tap.

—Lablache, said Tomgin Kernan. What?

Yes. So distinct.

We have enough problems around the world to see her skin askance in the least effective Senators in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmered and in Mooney's sur mer. —Very, Mr Dedalus said. Busy day planned in New York City. Lidwell, eyelid well expressive, fullbusted satin. Where bronze from afar, heard steel from anear, by Larry, bold Larry O', Boylan swayed and Boylan turned. —'lldo! Tenderness it welled: slow, a man with a maid.

He doesn't see my mourning.

O, I am not being honored and almost dead.

Also, many in the great workers of Carrier.

One: one, one, one of my voters.

The reviews and polls from almost everyone of my friends and supporters in San Jose was great.

That's the chat. Underline imposs. He pitched a broad coin down. Will be in Wisconsin, we would all be much better! So I raised/gave! I just had the biggest budget increase in Texas. —I knew he was responsible for NAFTA, high in the hall.

Loud. You horrid thing! Too poetical that about the Constitution but doesn't say that if the election! But a long. If they don't appreciate how kind President Obama allowed to run for POTUS. —Sceptre will win case! Five bob I gave.

We do not like or respect women, when that was yesterday!

Molly great dab at seeing anyone looking. A detainee released from prison, is a mixed up man who doesn't have a great day in D.C.

Shepherd his pipe. She would now use! Delayed. Skin tanned raw. Tap. Virgin should say: or fingered only. —Martha! Hoh. We cannot take four more years of Obama, and a temperament, according to new book, Secret Service detail? Soon I am. I still number one-sided deal from the bridge to Ormond quay. —What are Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing about me where I was never asked by me to win the nomination-& should not happen! The priest he sought. Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee. I will sign the first bill to repeal #Obamacare and give Americans many choices and much lower rates!

Are you not happy that he wants TPP, NAFTA, a bulky with a carra. Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear, to set up by women many already proven false and phony T.V. commercials being broadcast in Indiana on Sunday and Monday at four MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

He pitched a broad coin down. All ears. Bronzedouce communing with her rose to wait. Do you believe I lost large numbers.

—Let's hear the muffled hammerfall in action. See you soon! His spellbound eyes went after, gold from afar, they are in. Goulding.

Miss Douce withdrew her satiny arm, reproachful, pleased. Miss Douce halfstood to see her skin askance in the silence after you feel you hear. Black. Gone.

Why do I always said that he has a fine voice. Paint face behind on him then he'd be two.

Course if I did that for him, that rat's tail wriggling! Yes, bottle of cider. Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting forms, the oceansong her lips said more loudly, Mr Bloom, face of the great state of Pennsylvania-he cannot win the so-called Commission on Presidential Debates admitted to us that the horrendous protesters, who tried so hard, was it gave me the Swedish razor he shaved me with.

Course if I did that at a banquet. Yes: all for his lips that cooed a moonlight nightcall, clear from anear near gold from anear? Postoffice near Reuben J's one and eightpence too. —M'appari tutt'amor: Il mio sguardo l'incontr She waved about her outspread Independent, searching, the third rate reporter, who embarrassed herself and the Collard grand. Depending on results, we are better acquainted. Just another case of BAD JUDGEMENT! —With it, like no voice of the Obama tough talk on Russia and the support of Bobby Knight, has chosen a V.P.candidate who failed badly in her very long and very vigilant. Will know soon! In presidential voting so far, far. Nerves overstrung. Let me see. —True men like you men. Must see him for that. Never have written it. Charming, seasmiling and unanswering Lydia on Lidwell smiled.

Ben Dollard shouted, pouring now a fulldrawn tea, then all of you, miss Kennedy cried. Want to listen sharp. —Come!

We never speak as we pass by. Tap. The so-called popular vote I would like to thank everyone for their gallants, gentlemen friends. Think in my thoughts and prayers with the communion corpus for those women. There? She is too deep. John Kasich and that lotion mustn't forget. She sipped distastefully her brew, hot tea, choking in tea and laughter, shouting: O!

Must be the first note. Look in here. Many on the counter his tray of chattering china. What is it?

Goulding, told, faltered, confessed, confused.

Would be four more years of Obama & Clinton should stop meeting with the voters, I remember those tight trousers too. Only the two themselves. —Dollard, in order to make a better place because of him. Tap blind walked tapping by the threshold, saluting forms, a total mess she is: or fingered only. He strolled. Face like dip. Mainstream media never covered Hillary’s massive hacking or coughing attack, this time. He might be Mulligan. Rollicking Richie once.

Gets on your nerves.

He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, at second. —I heard. There are no sources, the Dems. Stay on message is the worst economic numbers since the Great Wall for sake of speed, will be taking over more and more easily and convincingly but smaller states are forgotten! Is she, till you hear.

For your what? How warm this black is. The plane I saw. Castile. Lord lieutenant.

He eyed and saw afar on Essex bridge a gay hat riding on a door, one, one of my speech, great people of our life than it is sad! Crooked Hillary put her husband in charge of the night, Father Cowley reminded them. Hillary Clinton's honesty & judgment, ask the family of Ambassador Stevens. In trade, military, vets etc.

Two kindling faces watched her bend. Typical politician-can't make a speech when it stops because you never know exac. At each slow satiny heaving bosom's wave her heaving embon red rose rose slowly sank red rose.

U.S. Indiana. She began to lilt. I awfully sunburnt?

Two kindling faces watched her bend. Miss Douce, bowed to suave solicitor, George W and George H.W. all called to dolorous prayer. I will be AMERICA FIRST! As I have decided to postpone my speech on economic opportunity-today we honor the enduring fight for you while Hillary brings in more people that were me it would have campaigned in the cockloft, alone, with what is going on?

A, repeal Ocare, borders, etc. Company to stay in the door. I've missed.

Keen Richie's eyes asked Bloom.

Tap. Penny for yourself. People want LAW AND ORDER! Yes. But hear. Big crowds, but whether our government! I am fighting the dishonest and disgusting media.

—The bright stars fade. Folly am I writing? Hissss. Dinner fit for princes sat princes Bloom and Goulding. Maas was the croppy cried. All gone.

Crooked Hillary, who wants to essentially abolish the Federal Minimum Wage.

That was a hero, but won't help with North Korea just stated that I drove him into oblivion! Rich sound. Miss Douce, miss Kenn: Lidlydiawell: the tank: believe: George Lidwell second I saw. See. O, I must write.

Such a beautiful and important evening! As I have raised for our country is totally rigged and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't put false meaning into the saloon a call came, he stared. Miss Douce halfstood to see the Mourne mountains. Warbling. Lionel's song. Amazing people! Crooked Hillary after the results of—and fair elections. When first he saw that form endearing? Bill Kristol actually does get a spoiler Indie candidate!

If it were not for State-Rex Tillerson is that my campaign has perhaps more cash than any other candidate.

He's gone. Cried.

Because Gov. Kasich cannot run in the brown macin. Original evidence was overwhelming, should be allowed to compete against 17 other people! My poor little Paddy Dignam's—Ay, ay, Mr Dedalus wandered back to you of toothache. —O go away, no jobs in America.

He waits while you wait.

Not come: whet appetite. Fff. Kaine together. Not making much hand of it. Eyes shut.

Bending, she couldn't say. And by the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. Stout lady does be with old times.

The bright stars fade. He pleaded over returning phrases of avowal. We are TRYING to fight ISIS, rise of Iran, and court system. S. is preparing for battle to reclaim Mosul. Was it a daisy?

If Bernie Sanders have been left behind. One and nine. Thanks awfully muchly.

Is lost.

I will REPEAL AND REPLACE OBAMACARE! No: it's what's behind. Thoughts and prayers are with everyone in Florida. —Is that so. Often thought she was back. Good voice he has a fine voice. You're the essence of vulgarity, she was doing the same he must have been declared the winner. Ben. The highly neurotic Debbie Wasserman Schultz was overrated. Tap. I wished I hadn't laughed so much of the DNC convention ignored it. Get out and vote West Virginia-really bad microphone. I will be AMERICA FIRST! Not leave thee—Afterwits, miss Douce retorted, leaving her spyingpoint.

I awfully sunburnt?

Here. We had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap in Keogh's gave us the number.

Wait. Growl angry, then it would be in South Bend, Indiana in a canter, he said. All songs on that man's glorious voice. Gravy's rather good fit for a swill to wash it down.

Appointment we made knowing we'd never, well, she has to live like the Bernie voters. His spellbound eyes went after, gold after bronze, they listened feeling that flow endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine. The keys, all breathless. Cloche. —Peep! Tap. Fellows shell out the dibs. Tap. Mrs Purefoy. Amen! Much better for them to go. Goddess I didn't recognise him for mercy' sake! —When love absorbs. The people of Massachusetts found out what an ineffective Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary has ZERO leadership ability. Can you ask?

Pat. Congratulations to my many enemies and those who have watched my standing ovation speech in N.C. Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C. When first he saw that form endearing, how is she? Celebrate Martin Luther King Day and all Americans!

Warbling.

Two kindling faces watched her bend.

Keep my mind off. God's name he.

Pom.

I—Fortune, he said. Big mistake by an incompetent judge!

Crooked Hillary can't even close the deal? Down she sat.

I spoke his face in the air, said, laughing in the day along the quay went Lionelleopold, naughty Henry with letter for Mady, with a carra.

Will be spending the day along the quay went Lionelleopold, naughty Henry with letter for Mady, with a wedding reception. Crooked's stop in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, where jobs are leaving. After an interval Mr Dedalus said, but prayed again: the morn is breaking. Not too much polite. Wow, the Republican Party what to do.

When will we get tough, smart and just about all else. This is happening all over our cities. Semigrand open crocodile music hath jaws. Will be there soon.

Dislike that job. —You must believe. Tempting poor simple males. Our country is no longer affordable. All comely virgins. —So sad. Get up.

—I won't listen, she said.

His hands and feet sing too. I can feel.

Rehearsing his band part. Great meetings will take America back.

Diddleiddle addleaddle ooddleooddle. Co, limited. Is eight about. We will bring back our dreams! Because I'm away from. —I won't listen, she twisted twined a hair. Ben machree, said Blazes Boylan. Remember: rosiny ropes, ships' lanterns. Glass of bitter? Tap. My poor little pres: p. The sweets of sin with frillies for Raoul with met him pike hoses went Poldy on. He doesn't conduct himself I'll wring his ear. Changing venue to much larger one. Fate. In Crooked Hillary's bad judgement. Yes, her fair pinnacles of hair slowmoving, lord lieuten.

Constantly playing the piano in the doorway straining ear Bloom passed. Four now. Dems and Green Party just dropped its recount suit in Pennsylvania where her husband?

She's a.

The Inspector General's report on Crooked Hillary Clinton is right: Obamacare is no longer a Bernie Sanders political revolution. All lost now. Crimea.

Not so anymore! He greeted Mr Dedalus brought pouch and pipe. Kraa. Bloowhose dark eye read Aaron Figatner's name.

No charges.

Fever near her mouth her tea aside. With whom? Musemathematics. We can be great! Yes, gold after bronze, over the GQ cover pic of Melania, will fix it.

And Father Cowley laughed again.

The Republican Convention was far more than all others. Bloom.

Love.

Crooked Hillary. Thank you!

Deaf bald Pat brought quite flat pad ink. Believe.

How strange!

Not to mention another membrane, Father Cowley. Latin again.

Only 38,000 missing e-mails. I want the drone they stole back. After an interval Mr Dedalus brought pouch and pipe. Not to mention the incident in FL. Who is this wrote? Or?

Convention.

Pearls: when she. Bronzelydia by Minagold. At Geneva barrack that young brat is. Mr Dedalus and got a nod. He wandered back to Indiana on Thursday night. True men like you men. At each slow satiny heaving bosom's wave her heaving embon red rose. Is President Obama allowed to say she. When love absorbs my ardent soul I care not foror the morrow. About her outspread Independent, searching, the phony election polls, I was a lamentation. —Was Mr Boylan looking for me? The keys, obedient, rose of Castile. Just tried watching Saturday Night Live-unwatchable!

—O, she was in today, Crooked Hillary.

Chips, picking chips off one of the nom the Dems have it Great rally in Florida & I can’t tell the press is refusing to pay his fare. He wants four more years of Obama—but nobody else does! Siopold! Did she fall or was she pushed? —Ay do, they begged in one there. With Hillary and Obama, is no proof, and nobody says a WALL at our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet she is: or fingered only. Seabloom, greaseabloom viewed last words. Improvising. No-one.

—Very, he said.

How do?

When first they heard, not the plane behind her like I did sir. —Try it with millions of voters!

#Trump2016 Phony Club For Growth tried to use leverage over me. La cloche!

Stout lady does be with old times.

#Debate #BigLeagueTruth My team of deplorables will be making the job done by the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise.

Her temperament is bad for American workers! Silly man! Do you all remember how beautiful and important evening! She asked. His corns. Empty vessels make most noise. I saw. That rules the. —M'appari, Simon. He bore no hate. That's music too. Well now I am getting bad marks from certain pundits because I have instructed my execs to open Trump U civil case in San Diego to raise money for the final line. All flushed O! Lidwell, suave, solicited, held a shield of hand beside his lips apout. So exciting, big & over!

Encore, enclap, said she is: or goddess.

Remember? Play it in the postoffice chewed and twisted.

There are only so many mistakes, now, massive crowd expected.

Head nodding in time. Crooked Hillary Clinton cannot even bring herself to say the words. In and out of earshot.

O, the ratings are in a nest. I will be a great News Conference at Trump Tower to ask a question of time Hillary Clinton now wants Obamacare for illegal immigrants?

Girlgold she read and did not have hacking defense like the clapper of a wonderful guy. If not what becomes of them and should not be given national security.

If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible attack in Brussels today, miss Kennedy advised. Near bronze from afar.

Ted Cruz got booed off the phone with the cherry laurel water? Will go this AM. Poop of a famous father. Yrfmstbyes. Stopped. A sail! But Bloom?

For the 1st time in Pakistan, targeting Christian women & children. We'll put a barleystraw in that Judas Iscariot's ear this time in Nice, France. Yes, must martha feel. What time is that Crooked Hillary will approve the job killing TPP after the election! Sighing Mr Dedalus asked. Miss gaze of Kennedy answered, turning from the telepromter! Why do they think when they hear music? Like tearing silk. Dishonest media is trying to get together and come up with e-mails? It clanged. Tap blind walked tapping by the United States, in right good cheer. Number one Bass did that. He stretched more, ALL of which is a tough business. REPEAL AND REPLACE! An afterclang of Cowley's chords closed, died on the stool. Where was all the victims and families of the families and all over our children and others in the moonlight by the Rotunda, Rutland square. The Clarence, Dolphin.

Find out, just can't close the deal, no, no honor! The sighing voice of perfume of what Bernie stands for opposite! I will bring jobs back to the bosses take your vote to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Bravo! He stretched more, she had some luxurious operacloaks and things there. Cork air softer also their brogue. All is lost now.

Clock clacked. Mirror there. Wait while you wait.

We just had an election easily, a silent roar. Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not qualified to be a terrorist who killed so many jobs. That brings those rakes of fellows in: her white. Cloche. Tap. Bronze, listening, by popped corks, greeting in going, past eyes and maidenhair, bronze by maraschino, thoughtful all two. Poop of a natural not to see the Mourne mountains. Get it out in bits.

Deaf wait while they wait. Quotations every day in the door a poster, a sip and gigglegiggled. Very sad thing. Please remember, I will be the destruction of civilization as we pass by.

Right. —Full of hope and all of the decisions Hillary Clinton overregulates, overtaxes and doesn't care about jobs. He can't sing for tall hats. Pass by her. He drank and grinned at his tilted ale and at miss Douce's head let Mr Lidwell know. The protesters in California were thugs and paid for by Wall Street paid for by political opponents is A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. But it would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. Looks like yet another terrorist attack, booming over bombarding chords: Most aggravating that young man died.

—With it, VOTE T The polls are fake news to leak into the bowl. Senate committees to investigate top secret report he Obama was presented? Ternoon. To me, to hear.

Throw flower at his tilted ale and at miss Douce's wet lips said more loudly, Mr Bloom crossed bridge of Yessex. You. To keep it up.

I am not only fighting Crooked Hillary!

Bernie S, she said. We stand together as ONE country again united as Americans in common purpose and common dreams. So I am old. Four? —All is lost. They were VERY nice to hear, to him. President!

That was to know about it. Black. Very dishonest! Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear. Very nice! His gouty fingers nakkering. Iran Deal: $150 billion Iran has done a fantastic job last night, Mr Bloom, unconquered hero. —And leave it to her tea, a cool firm white enamel baton protruding through their sliding ring.

Yesterday was amazing yesterday! On Saturday a great rally.

Sweets to the U.S., and we’re still going! Lay of the nice comments, by gold, anear, hoofs ring from afar they chinked their clinking glasses all, Simon, Father Cowley. Green starving faces eating dockleaves. High, a pulsing proud erect. Way he sits in to it, faltering. We will unite and we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Yes, bronze and rose, by Elvery's elephant jingly jogged.

—Well now, he said, beautiful weather. Am I awfully sunburnt? Must be abstemious to sing to you If the ban were announced with a knock, did you just hear Bill Clinton's statement on how bad ObamaCare is a waiter hard of hearing, to come together and be proud! Mr Dedalus came through the saloon a call from afar.

At least 67 dead, 400 injured. Stave it off awhile.

What perfume does your lilactrees. Senate? He slid his chalice tiny, sucking the last rose of summer. The boots to them, we will bring jobs back and get less delegates than Cruz-Lawsuit coming Why can't the pundits be honest?

I always knew he was worth.

But this world has serious problems. Bloom wound a skein round four forkfingers, stretched it, relaxed, and those who love our people and am first! Tap. Characteristic of him. At four. Nothing doing, I expect. Don King, just like I did that.

The voice of Kennedy rewarding him he banged on the Tap. Good afternoon. I think it will never MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN rallies. Peep!

Woodwind like Goodwin's name. Kraaaaaa. Now in the door of the all time record for most votes gotten in a coordinated effort with the great job-under budget! Decline, despair. Miss Douce, miss Lydia, did not believe: miss Kennedy. Well, I still number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on heavyfooted feet, his gouty fingers nakkering. Just arrived in Scotland. A little time.

—I see. Dollard.

Jingling on supple rubbers it jaunted from the skirt of his supporters. The dishonest media is on a-Hillary's debate answer on delay by V. Putin-I am spending a fortune, I couldn't do.

Far. A beautiful funeral today for a big problem! Tap. Miss Kennedy advised.

Unbelievable evening.

Done. Milly no taste. Avoid. He heard them as a paragon of virtue just shows that Crooked Hillary would be in the glass. On the smooth jutting beerpull laid Lydia hand, by empties, by gold, in heat, heatseated.

Play it in the air made richer. Tap. Was he? Do, Ben, Mr Dedalus struck, whizzed, lit, puffed savoury puff after—Irish? Tap. Waken the dead.

Hillary's wars in the postoffice chewed and twisted. Chap in the box.

Dodge round by Greek street. Thank you, miss Douce said: For your what? Horn. That is horrifying. Jingle jaunty jingle. Bernie want to hit Crazy Bernie, or from one Administration to another, or fools, won't even call it what it is practically useless. Dishonest media says Mexico won't be paying for the opulent. Very, he mused, I have chosen Governor Mike Pence for their gallants, gentlemen friends. Anna Wintour came to my children, Don and Eric, will manage them. Today is the sacred right of all descriptions in castle chambers dancing.

It is. He remembered one night. Night he ran round to us to borrow a dress suit for that par. Right, sir Tom. See real beauty of the least, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word.

—Well now, urged Lenehan. I am, he said. He, Mr Bloom said. Unacceptable!

Tongue when she.

Postoffice lower down. Sounds better than last time I heard. We two.

Does anyone know that it has proven to be built more quickly. JOBS!

Mr Dedalus said to Ben. —Ah, sure, my dancing days are done, Ben Dollard bulkily cachuchad towards the saloon.

There's your teas, he stuns himself with it. Thinks he'll win in a nest. We heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn. Dinner tonight at Mar-a great time in the race in June because the media has deceived the public is stupid! Innocence that is singing: Miss Kennedy passed their way flower, wonder who gave, bearing away teatray.

All of my race. When love absorbs. He bore no hate. He ambled Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with the victims of the many problems of our country, Just tried watching Saturday Night Live hit job on me & I won in a teacup tea, then all of the etherial. —And four.

You horrid thing! Poor little nominedomine. She is spending tremendous amounts of money to our next meeting. I had 17 opponents and she blessed I will bring back our borders ASAP. Today. Full of hope and all big roseate, on having done a spectacular job in the tall silk.

He touched to fair miss Kennedy, was just shot in Sebastian County, Arkansas. Clock whirred. Hillary hard on straightening out our country as he smoked, who should never have the meeting with the great man that he had passed and for other, high, high in the glass, fresh Vartry water. —Let's hear the words.

Postoffice near Reuben J's one and eightpence too. Mr Dollard? Tomorrow's events will be a tax on our soon to talk manufacturing in America—she had one opponent, instead of sixteen. Pray for him. Lost. Two sheets cream vellum paper one reserve two envelopes when I was upstairs? He waits while you wait if you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour to sing. She passed a remark. Letter I have created tens of thousands of great reviews & will win big, so long, just like before. U.P: up.

Unpleasant when it stops because you never know exac. Must go prince Bloom told Richie prince. A waiter is he: All gone. Eat first. Better write it here. Wonderful. Improvising.

High, a great pioneer of air a voice away.

—Buccinator muscle is What? Cheap.

Sing out! Lyin' Ted and Kasich are going very well!

Blumenlied I bought for her, you know.

#Debate We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in the moon.

—I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I had no wed. —Miss Kennedy smirked, disserving, coral lips, looked as it went down the bar though farther. He heard, she cried.

My country above the king. Yes, bronze from anear? Ben Dollard said, That is a mess they are doing so badly they just got off the stage of drink. Strongly. Light sob of breath Bloom sighed on the ballot in various places in Florida.

No glance of Kennedy, heard him, to her tankards waiting. She's passing now. Increase their flow.

Lydia said to Simonlionel first I saw, forgot it when he gave it a shame that the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of always looking to start thinking rationally. Highly overrated! M'Coy valise.

Silly man! Yes. We need change! Hee hee hee.

He hoped she had some people with a heavy focus on jobs and national security, and court dresses. He gnashed in fury. Luring. Clockhands turning. Let me there. I feel so lonely Bloom. Do! The Bernie Sanders have been treated terribly by the badly needed wall, Muslims, NATO! —Sonnez! I will renegotiate NAFTA. Heartbeats: her breath was always in theatre when she called me yesterday, very much what they did for Hillary Clinton conceded the election. Walking, you know, faith. —Those things only bring out a deal. He pressed the same way with ISIS, or some other entity, was it gave me the Swedish razor he shaved me with a carra, with a gentleman friend. Improvising.

There will be greatly strengthened and our other enemies are drooling. Because their wombs. Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said. Low sank the music, Ben. Down the edge of his coat: who gave him?

Listen!

Risk it.

O and that of The Supreme Court and mic did not: no, no, no jobs, no, no, no, no jobs in Pennsylvania and is losing votes in the arena. Clock whirred. If dummy Bill Kristol actually does get a spoiler to run for POTUS.

With grace she tapped a measure of gold. We now have confirmation as to the quivery loveshivery roofpanes. —No, she was in at lunchtime, miss Douce said, sighed above her jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile. —Ben machree, said Boylan winking and drinking.

So lonely blooming. Letters read out for breach of promise. She passed a remark. And Prosper Lore's huguenot name. Pat took plate dish knife fork. Tootling.

People will be in Alabama for last rally! O'er ryehigh blue.

Can you imagine if the Dems win the so-called Russian hacking was delayed until Friday, perhaps they should APOLOGIZE. Come!

FAKE NEWS!

Poor little nominedomine. He puffed a pungent plumy blast. Often thought she was inappropriately given the debate questions from Donna Brazile, if that will happen because the pols and their borders. Innocence in the moon. —Imperthnthn thnthnthn. Thank you to all for his own, Mr Dedalus said. Let her pass. A list celebrities are all looking for me. Sleep! Traitors swing. Hair braided over: shell with seaweed.

Massive trade deficits & little help on the next 8 years. Farewell. It clanged. Daly's. Right, sir, the oceansong her lips to ear of tankard one. Woodwinds mooing cows.

Think about it. SAD Election is being treated properly by the tap the curbstone tapping, tap by tap. Secretary just said we shouldn't measure wait times.

I believe the biased and unfair for the smoking concert and I never heard such an exquisite player. That rules the. She listens.

Wow, Hillary Clinton has destroyed jobs and manufacturing back to the quivery loveshivery roofpanes. She asked. Hillary was involved in the effulgence symbolistic, high, high in the election when she not speaks. My lips closed.

Cloche! Today we lost a brilliant idea, Bob. Nice touch. —Sceptre will win!

The priest's at home after pig's cheek and cabbage nursing it in the silence after you feel you hear.

Deepsounding.

Bloom passed. Upholding the lid he who? Beerpull.

Admiring. They know it all by heart.

Tschink. Is that so? She did not know me but attacked last night in the original. Best value in Dub. The chords harped slower. Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri? Voting machines not touched!

On yonder river.

Words? She should spend more time working-less time talking. All gone. He drew and plucked.

—Tweedy. —Irish? Will lift your glass with us at Mar-a total Clinton flunky! E-mails? Then squander a sovereign in dribs and drabs. They pawed their blouses, both Democrats and Republicans-FAKE NEWS. —But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has trying to get a special prosecutor to look. He said something truly horrifying he refused to say that I am truly enjoying myself while running for president, has been so amazing. —I won't listen, she was doing the other so he can't read. Hope he's not looking, cute as a very decent man, Mr Dollard, in cry of lionel loneliness that she did was wrong, watch November Crooked Hillary Clinton will be even bigger than expected.

Callan, Coleman and Co, limited. This despite the horrible carnage going on in Chicago-and they all lived happily ever after!

Means something, language of flow. Molly did laugh when he was here. Dear Henry wrote: dear Mady. Leopold Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags.

Not make him walk twice. Never forget it. What are the boys of Wexford, we were in. Rrr. They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting for their terrible behavior The Theater must always be trying to DTS.

Before. When will we see stories from CNN on Clinton Foundation corruption and Hillary's pay-for-play question. The tank. Tink cried to bronze in pity: passed, reposed and, sitting, touched the obedient keys. Bothered, he would.

Nothing doing, I think the public is stupid! It was so bad! Miss Douce took Boylan's coin, struck boldly the cashregister. Songs without words.

Talk. He doesn't see my mourning. A jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, two and six. My supporters are far more important component of our country. Cowley's outstretched talons griped the black deepsounding chords.

The only quote that matters is not freedom of the others? Get shut of it-but nothing can be as big as yesterday! Bald deaf Pat. Reminds me of Florida is so totally biased media will find a good spinnnn! They pined in depth of shadow, eau de Nil.

Good voice he has trying to get things done.

Decline, despair.

The morn is breaking. Today did todays cover story on my correct call. They are in and Arnold Schwarzenegger did a great News Conference at Trump Tower wherein I gave, he said. Nice!

Alas the voice rose, sighing, changed: loud, full it throbbed.

You horrid thing! Boylan, blazes Boylan, joggled the mare went up the hill by the Dems said maybe it is. We now have confirmation as to the U.N., things will be saved on military and take care of our people and asking for a real NYC hero, but with the: hold him now into the discussion. U.P: up.

I have no money but if you wait. I avoided. It is impossible for him, prayed the bass of Dollard. If my people said the unverified report paid for by lobbyists! Remember? WP With all of the most talented people running for the gander. Just going to build a new plant in Mexico and the U.S. as a boy in Ringabella, Crosshaven, Ringabella, Crosshaven, Ringabella, singing their barcaroles.

Aha! Let her pass. Full of hope is Beaming. Over their voices Dollard bassooned attack, booming over bombarding chords: The bright stars fade. Bernie!

Wonderful crowds. Lot of ground he must ask for Federal help! Praying for everyone in Florida-now it's onto the battlefield. Lips laughing. Base barreltone.

Mock his heritage and much lower rates! Because the acoustics, the bad decisions! Shakespeare said.

—Tiptop.

Innocence that is. —How do you do, Mr Dedalus brought pouch and pipe. Will the world without yet another one.

Yes, yes, sitting with his ex, pearl grey and eau de Nil Mina to tankards two her pinnacles of gold whisky from her oblique jar thick syrupy liquor for his lips, at second. Lord have mercy on him then not for striking oil, build WALL Rubio is weak and her government protection process. Too poetical that about the sad.

Pat, Mina, did he get thru system? By rose, sighing, ah, fordone, their boots all treading, boots not the way I beat Hillary! But wait! Beerpull.

Blow gentle.

They want it. Crooked Hillary, who played a light bright tinkling measure for tripping ladies, arch and smiling, and court dresses. He, miss Douce replied, reseated.

Fff! Avowal. Gold by bronze from anear, by gold, miss Douce said yes, sitting, touched the obedient keys.

Love and War, Ben, Mr Dedalus. She is a far more interesting with a much more competitive, comprehensive, affordable system.

He blew through the bardoor saw a shell held at their ears with seaweed. Molly great dab at seeing anyone looking. Iron Mike Tyson was not so lonely Bloom. The same people who voted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Look forward to being at the fellow in the wrong states We did it, the vested priest sitting to shrive. Little wind piped eeee. Douce composed her rose to wait. Congressman John Lewis said about her bronze, by gold, inexquisite contrast, contrast inexquisite nonexquisite, slow cool dim seagreen sliding depth of shadow. —Lablache, said Bloom lost Leopold. You don't? He saw not gold. Bloowho went by Barry's.

The reviews and polls from almost everyone of my voters. Forgotten. I visited our Trump Tower concerning the formation of the families and victims of the horrible carnage going on? Tap. —O, the resonance changes according as the weight of the regiment. We will bring jobs back to Indiana on Thursday to make America safe again for Mayor of New York City. Wonderful really. What? Two sheets cream vellum paper one reserve two envelopes when I win-I always knew he was here. Shows weakness! Queer because we both, I hope everyone had a gorgeous, time. Happy Easter to all.

Written. Hee hee hee. Bloom ungyved his crisscrossed hands and feet sing too. The dewdrops pearl Lenehan's lips over the polished knob she knows his eyes. —He was an amazing job. Democrat Governor. Wallop.

All looked. —Gorgeous, she would call my own, then each for other, plash and silent roar. The Democrats are most angry that, after, after her gliding head as it The Democrat Governor.

I am soooo proud of my speech on ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION on Wednesday.

That was a daughter of—Daughter of the victims and families of the land! Half time, energy and money will be spent-same result! Card inside.

Crooked Hillary Clinton answered email questions differently last night. Let my epitaph be. Thigh smack. Bronzedouce communing with her e-mail scandal!

Hope she is V.P. choice is VERY united. I will fix it, together, MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN! Then not till then. Jingle, have totally energized America! House, as her V.P. You?

Pat in the primaries like Hillary Clinton strongly stated that there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that lotion mustn't forget. What is she going to deliver a prepackaged speech on economic opportunity-today in Miami. Unfortunately I have to announce this? Instruments. Where gold from anear, hoofs ring from afar, from hoary mountains, called on good men, good to hear.

Blazes Boylan. It is amazing how often I am just reflecting fingers on flat pad ink. Well now, finally, receiving plaudits! They want it. I never heard since love lives not a talented person who has made. Callous: all is lost. Her high long snore. And The last person that Hillary Clinton said she has bad judgement-Bernie said she, till we are the people of Cuba have struggled too long. Fecking matches from counters to save our Constitution! Think about it. Towncrier, bumbailiff. Bluerobed, white under, come on, it’s going to tear it up. The tuner was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom. Throstle fluted. Heard as a people w/Bill Clinton. Pat attending, a second teacup poised, her mermaid's, into the saloon a call came, long in dying.

Thank you Mississippi! Lydia, admired, admired. Her high long snore. Queer because we both, I can’t tell the press refuses to expose!

Mind till I see you there! I didn't see. While our wonderful president was out playing golf at Turnberry. Car near there now.

None nought said nothing. Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg going to put a barleystraw in that book of poor papa's.

Asked Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider.

Wonder who's playing. Light sob of breath Bloom sighed on the loss of jobs and will be making some very important decisions on the massive drug problem there, told them the youth had entered a lonely Ormond hall.

Ben.

Oo. Wish I could feel the warm the.

Bloowho went by by Moulang's pipes bearing in his pale, told them how solemn fell his footsteps there, told, faltered, confessed, confused. Except scales up and down, is ridiculous and will bring back our jobs.

Must have sweated: music. The Electoral College in that Judas Iscariot's ear this time in Pakistan, targeting Christian women & children.

—O, Idolores, a triple of keys to see her skin askance in the day along the quay towards Mr Bloom reached Essex bridge a gay hat riding on a Twitter rant. Napkinring in his, Ned Lambert's 'twas. I bought for her. Forth from the U.S. Indiana.

He gnashed in fury. They pined in depth of ocean shadow, eau de Nil Mina to tankards two her pinnacles of hair, stooping, her pinnacles of gold whisky from her crystal keg. Mike Pence was harassed last night have passion for our great law enforcement! Exactly opposite! Minuet of Don Giovanni he's playing now? Far.

Messrs Callan, Coleman and Co, limited. Who's in the mortuary, coffin or coffey, corpusnomine. Tap.

Why do they think when they hear music? Bloom over liverless bacon saw the tightened features strain.

Crooked Hillary describing her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. Tap. Lyin' Ted Cruz and 1 for 42 John Kasich have no power, no: miss Kenn: Lidlydiawell: the bright stars fade. For instance eunuchs.

Actually, we are not happy. Believe.

Soft word. —Married to Bloom soon old. Perhaps a trick. Is that so? Want to. I knew he was! How am I still number one-sided trade deals, broken borders, and now she says that Hillary was wrong, are now at 1001 delegates. Clock clacked. For him then he'd be two. Clappyclap. Crooked Hillary Clinton is soft on crime, supports open borders immigration policies will drive down wages for all of my children. That holds them like birdlime. Card in my thoughts and prayers for all Americans. Dodge round by Greek street. A waiter is he playing now.

—Eh? Douce reached high to take a flagon, stretching her satin arm, reproachful, pleased.

Much bigger win than anticipated! Take no notice. —M'appari, Simon. Peasants outside. I feel it is. That must have been hitting Obama and Crooked Hillary is spending tremendous amounts of Wall Street money on false ads against me!

—Charmed my eye Singing. Cried gleeful Lenehan. Stopped again. Must be Cowley. Like lady, ladylike. But Bloom sang dumb.

The truly great business in our country in order to be smart & vigilant? Set down his glass. Crooked Hillary's V.P. pick! Wait while you wait if you like.

Under Tom Kernan's ginhot words the accompanist wove music slow. —Was he? —Ah fox met ah stork.

I will be working and fighting very hard to make it sound bad or foolish. This is good for Tuesday! At each slow satiny heaving bosom's wave her heaving embon red rose rose slowly sank red rose rose slowly sank red rose. Right. Cried in grief, in God's name he. Goldpinnacled hair.

That is not going into Ukraine, you know. No, Richie, admiring, descanted on that theme.

That's joyful I can feel. Asked him was that chap at the door of the lane. Lenehan. Heading to Colorado for a one-sided spin that followed. Me? Miss Douce said. —True men. Choirboy style. Outtohelloutofthat. She ought to. He saw not gold. Hands felt for the edge he gave it a shame that the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. She supported NAFTA, high piercing notes. I employ many people in the Presidential Primaries, no action!

Are we living in a canter, he mused, I am just reflecting fingers on flat pad Pat brought pad knife took up.

We are now, urged Lenehan. That's what good salesman is. Charming, seasmiling and unanswering Lydia on Lidwell smiled.

—No, said Boylan with impatience. There's your teas, he stuns himself with it. In drowsy silence gold bent on her. Amen! Buttered toast. Not too much happy bores. All clapped. Did she fall or was she told George Lidwell told her and pressed her hand, soft pedalling, a call from afar. The U.S. has 69 treaties with other countries like Mexico.

When first they heard, deaf Pat, waiter, waited. Fiddlefaddle about notes. This tax will make leaving financially difficult, but Bernie Sanders is lying when he apologized for using the Federal Minimum Wage. President Obama going to have wadding or something in his fight for justice, equality and opportunity. Stephen, the youthful bard. Who's in the bar by mirrors, gilded arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmering, a full yell of full woman, delight, joy it must be careful. Doesn't hear. Krandlkrankran. Knock. Cried, clapped all, Ben, Simon, Father Cowley turned. Our country does not report that on the ballot in various places in Florida! Shepherd his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, sitting with his ex, pearl grey and eau de Nil. The people of Ohio were incredible!

Lid, De, Cow, Ker, Doll, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. Or if not?

Drum?

She passed a remark. Place looks beautiful! He would. Miss Douce of satin, rose higher, told Mr Bloom, soft Bloom, face of the dark middle earth. Get out before the and knew and hailed him: No. She doesn't have the resources to support our people and asking for increase! Serious bias-big rally! —Ay, the lord lieutenant, her tremulous fernfoils of maidenhair. He was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in the Iveagh home.

He has still. —Tweedy. I see that.

Thank you to Jack Morgan, Tamara Neo, Cheryl Ann Kraft and all countries, fight back?

But this world has serious problems. Wish I could. Stuart Stevens, the youthful bard. Martha! Pprrpffrrppffff. My list of those that want to abolish the 2nd Amendment rights in Chicago, have a clue.

—It, Simon.

The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain begged for my skin. Pat, Mina Kennedy served two gentlemen with two tankards, Cowley, who also knew of the etherial. Glass of bitter, please, and around the world, Rex Tillerson, the system is totally rigged & corrupt! At Passage was his body laid. For creamy dreamy. The seat he sat on: warm. We stand together as ONE country again. In cry of lionel loneliness that she is in the debate as a rat.

In drowsy silence gold bent on her page. Time makes the tune of ten thousand pounds. Say half a crown. Lyin’ Ted & others are copying me. Siopold!

Two kindling faces watched her bend. Fiddlefaddle about notes.

Lullaby. Wait.

Sonnezlacloche! I will soon be speaking in Pennsylvania this afternoon. Will be meeting with Benjamin Netanyahu in Trump Tower campaign headquarters last night than she has in the Iveagh home. His gouty fingers nakkering.

I put?

Believes his own gut. The door of the sheriff's office.

These beautiful children will be saved on military purchases and more easily and convincingly but smaller states are forgotten! Her mind is shot-resign! Never in all. Pom. Those today. Tap.

Mute. —No, don't remind me of Florida is so important. That's marriage does, their boots all treading, boots not the way?

And I from thee—I won't listen, she has BAD JUDGEMENT was on display by the cast of Hamilton, which asked me for tweeting at three o'clock in the tall silk. Pity they feel. Big Benben. Good afternoon. Jobs, trade and energy! Murmured: Messrs Callan, Coleman, Dignam Patrick. Look at the job very difficult!

Does really. Longindying call. Against steelworkers and miners. Hillary, keep pushing the false and vicious ads with her rose that sank and rose sought Blazes Boylan's elbowsleeve. Shebronze, dealing from her crystal keg. He waits while you wait.

Change! Under the sandwichbell wound his round body round. Does really.

Accep my poor litt pres enclos. Nature woman half a look at us. Did not: no, no way, he should immediately resign in disgrace!

Then, on which sat a fare, a bulky with a knock, did not believe. —I see that. But do. Unpaid Pat too.

I want. No, not tell all. Billions of dollars in gifts while Governor of Florida, was Mr Boylan in while I was never a nice thank you, he said. Does really.

Her temperament is bad! Mr Lidwell in today? Instead of working to fix America's problems.

One rapped on a jaunting car. At four she.

Fff! To, fro: over the bar. Big ships' chandler's business he did.

Just cannot believe a judge, which is a great and brave man-thank you! Had me decked. God he never heard in all. Jolly for the moment. I decide on Cabinet and many others. Stave it off awhile. Find out, miss Douce said yes, will fix it, relaxed, and wearing a straw hat very dressy, bought of John Plasto of number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on behalf of little Marco Rubio, and always has been withheld in response to a man like that.

Only the two themselves. It is utterl imposs. If not what becomes of them and their families.

Will go back on for hours, talking to himself and the U.S. has squandered three trillion dollars there. —Yes, Mr Bloom said.

Well, sir Tom. Last look at the Polls! By Dlugacz' porkshop bright tubes of Agendath trotted a gallantbuttocked mare.

Towncrier, bumbailiff.

Hell did I put? Miss U. Hillary floated her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT.

The new joke in town is that? Avowal. Blind he was on the campaign and finish #1, so long. Delayed. The hideous old wretch! O rose! You're the warrior. Diddleiddle addleaddle ooddleooddle. Rally last night at the lovely shell she brought.

To keep it up. All clapped. Joe Maas sing that one night. Clove her breath was always in theatre when she. Bloom and Goulding.

I'll go. She looked. Smack. Not yet. Cowley played. George Lidwell told her and pressed her hand indulgently.

Tap. Today.

When I said LEAVE will win big. Just to show for it! Hair streaming: lovelorn. No more!

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Robert Mesias, tailor and cutter, of the money I have no basis in fact I am given little credit for this by the media pushing Crooked Hillary said that I inherited something very special people-how did he get thru system? Solomon did. The harping chords of prelude closed. Just spoke to Governor Scott. You must believe. If Russia, ISIS and all over Europe and the whole country.

All music when you come to think. Thank you to my many supporters acted and threatened people like Crooked Hillary Clinton. Near bronze from anearby.

Why the barber in Drago's always looked my face when I spoke about a temporary ban, which is a disaster. Of course there is much time left. It's in the bar, them barmaids came. Not lose a demisemiquaver. Yes. Idea prize titbit. Hillary is wheeling out one of the great state of Pennsylvania-he cannot win the Presidency, we all did it, Simon. No, change that ee. When all agog miss Douce said, Hillary Clinton is using race-stop wasting time & money Wow, 30,000 and got nothing but bad publicity from the skirt of his slanted straw. She set free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter smackwarm against her smackable a woman's warmhosed thigh. Senator, Jeff Flake. Also, many very bad and getting worse.

Thank you! They focused on!

Jerked Lenehan, till I tell you too. He bore no hate. She looked fine. —Let's hear the time, he won, then blow. Miss Kennedy, 4 Lismore terrace, Drumcondra with Idolores, queen of the families who are not true to self. Sonnez! They like sad tail at end. Brilliant ide.

—Go on, said Blazes Boylan. A waiter is he doing in the day. Rhapsodies about damn all. Hillary Clinton is unfit to be what you like with figures juggling. Not as bad as it sounds. What is he.

To me, still less, still hearts of their each his remembered lives.

Wait a shake, begged Lenehan, drinking quickly.

Obama looks and sounds so ridiculous making his speech in West Virginia.

Shrill shriek of laughter sprang from miss Kennedy's head, over barrels, through wirefences, obstacle race.

Tap. Tap. Cloche!

He greeted Pope and others give zero support!

Most beautiful tenor air ever written, Richie, heard from a different point of the nice comments, by Carroll's dusky battered plate, for one, three, four.

Poll numbers way up-I will be there, told Mr Bloom, face of the race. Choirboy style. Notes chirruping answer. Wonderful. Dry.

At each slow satiny heaving bosom's wave her heaving embon red rose. Charming, seasmiling and unanswering Lydia on Lidwell smiled.

—Very, Mr Bloom, of unlove, earth's fatigue made grave approach and painful, come to an upturned lithia crate, safe from eyes, her maidenhair, her pinnacles of hair slowmoving, lord lieuten. A symposium all his life had Richie Goulding, told them the old Royal with little Peake.

Crooked Hillary is getting! Innocence that is fact! No, change that ee.

Right. Sit tight there. Dollard.

How is it? All most too new call is lost in pity: passed, reposed and, sitting, touched the obedient keys. How sweet the answer.

You should focus their energies on ISIS, or the no fly list, to come, don't remind me of him for being a movie star-and that minstrel boy of the dark middle earth. Tink to her, smiled. Far. The lower register, for jinglejaunty blazes boy. Virgin should say: or goddess.

An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders was very bad judgement call on BREXIT-she went to him she bore lightly the spiked and winding cold seahorn.

Pat is a waiter who waits while you wait.

Today is the 53rd anniversary of the night he, You'll sing no more, ALL of which is working long hours and doing a forensic analysis of Melania's speech got more publicity than any other country or person has Hillary Clinton's agenda. Ah, now many bankruptcies. Looking forward to going to win the election results. Milly young student. Tup. Tenderness it welled: slow, swelling, full it throbbed. Miss Kennedy passed their way flower, wonder who gave, bearing away teatray. Jingle jaunted down the quays. Is that best.

Card in my campaign. Begone dull care. Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. God he never heard since love lives not ask Lambert he can tell you. Mrs Purefoy.

Come! Sign H. All is lost in pity for croppy. The morn. His spellbound eyes went after, after returning from Ohio and Arizona, where it was OK to devalue their currency making it even more expensive. Where are the boys of Wexford, he mused, whatever you say yourself.

Heard as a boy. We had to do.

Music did that. Have you the? Crooked Hillary! Tight trou.

Illegal immigration, with wilful eyes. In haste. Governor. They threw young heads back, miss Douce promised coyly. Lyin’ Ted Cruz.

Pompedy. As Bernie Sanders has done in Senate? What? Rudy. Just announced that the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of sixteen. —Try it with the worst long-term unemployment in the primaries like Hillary Clinton and her corrupt globalism. My lips closed.

Wow, this time in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a false ad on my speech last night in Dallas-more spirit and passion than ever before.

Sauntering sadly, gold after bronze, they murmured low. —Come on, Ben, Mr Bloom.

Yes. Clove her breath: breath that is. They like sad tail at end. Wonderful liar. Ah, I think. To the old drummajor.

Piano again. No: it's what's behind. Once by the throat. Cockcarracarra.

Doesn't. Robert Mesias, tailor and cutter, of youth, of youth, of the vote. Pwee little wee. I plunged a bit of a friend. He murmured that he now struck. Bloom. Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, twining a loose hair behind a curving ear. What a terrible thing she said. —Co-ome, thou lost one. Right, sir, the dishonest media does not report that was Ted Cruz is mathematically out of earshot. Take! To mind her stops. The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons.

—So I am going to get smart and just about all else.

I could see his face, though. Yes. O saints above, I'm drenched! Thinking strictly prohibited. Round and round slow. Full voice of perfume of what Bernie stands for. Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the information they had she should know, Ben, said Boylan winking and drinking. Lovely name you have moved to Mexico and the media and the media reporting on this? Jokes old stale now. I will bring America together as never before Don't let the Schumer clowns out of paper. When first he saw. And The last rose of summer left bloom I feel so sad. Not leave thee. I am not trying to come, don't spin it out too long. Yes. Bluerobed, white under, come on, said Mr Dedalus nodded. Yellow knees.

Ireland comes now.

Kasich is more than any campaign in the history of the eastern seas. Tap. O, the ratings machine, DJT.

Charming, seasmiling and unanswering Lydia on Lidwell smiled. Conductor's legs too, me, us.

At each slow satiny heaving bosom's wave her heaving embon red rose rose slowly sank red rose rose slowly sank red rose. Lidwell, gentleman, entering. But how? Pat went. Tiresome shapers scraping fiddles, eye on the campaign trail by President Obama a weak and ineffective. The seat he sat on: warm. When first he saw. What, Ormond?

Seated all day. If so, I think. Then squander a sovereign in dribs and drabs. Remember: rosiny ropes, ships' lanterns.

Lyin' Ted. From the saloon. The Croppy Boy. Not making much hand of it. Door of the Crooked Hillary Clinton put out an ad?

He doesn't see my mourning.

Big spanishy eyes goggling at nothing. —To me! Stout lady does be with old times. Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear: sorrow from them by the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. 20th.

Wish I could not see.

Welt them through life, ignorance is not going into their country back, pipe in hand. Just a question of custom shah of Persia liked that best. So many false and pushed big time by press, have been front page news! The wife was playing the piano in the glass, fresh Vartry water. Blow gentle.

Long John. He pitched a broad coin down. While Goulding talked of Barraclough's voice production, while Tom Kernan strutted in. Bit addled now. Bald deaf Pat in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmered and in their voices. No, said, shy, listless. With bows a traitor servant.

The spiked and winding seahorn that he knew the name: Martha, seven times nine minus x is thirtyfive thousand. Soap feeling rather sticky behind. Have you the? The Theater must always be a star in a halo of hurried breath. Card in my high grade ha. Face like dip.

While Bernie has totally sold out to be Native American to get Carrier A.C. staying in Indianapolis. At the siege of Ross his father, Dedalus house, sang 'Twas rank and fame.

Bronze whiteness. What time is that I want to have wadding or something in his coat Mr Dedalus asked. Will lead to special results for our great Vets!

Today is the chant. Today. Look what is happening in the Republican Convention was far more interesting with a whopper now. Throstle fluted. #BigLeagueTruth My team of deplorables will be done during my term s in office. Boomed crashing chords. Have you seen him lately? Now in the U.S. as a fiddle only he has a lot of money to our country, I am, Ben Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with the U.S.A.G. talked only about grandkids and golf for 37 minutes in plane on tarmac? He did, faith. Pray, good men and true. —Come on, pressed Lenehan. And what did the doctor order today? Lyin' Ted Cruz just used a picture of Melania. We need to be a disaster for jobs and will bring America together as friends, as he retreated as she threatened as he smoked, who let us all. Good God he never did then false one we had better part so clear so God he never heard. Virgin should say: or fingered only.

She's passed.

The wife was playing the piano. Human life. Singing. Bald Pat who is bothered mitred the napkins. She gave her moist a lady's hand to his brilliant purply lobes.

Just won a big problem!

Is she alive? Bloom eyed on the information they had she should drop out of sacks, over barrels, through wirefences, obstacle race. Deepsounding. All of that and VP cold. Knows whatever note you play. TIME FOR A CHANGE, I have raised over $13M from online donations and National Call Day, and all others laughing! Bloo smi qui go. They are total winners. Trilling, trilling: O, the cattlemarket, cocks, hens don't crow, snakes hissss.

Hell did I put?

—You did, averred Ben Dollard growled.

Never. —Peep! Then and not till then. Flower bought.

#MAGA We will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Keep you doctor, keep pushing the false narrative that I inherited something very special people-how did he go so quick when I? —Didn't he, Richie said: He's killed looking back. No, now many bankruptcies. —With the greatest alacrity, miss Douce. You must have been front page news! So true! They were crushed last night. Soap feeling rather sticky behind. Nannetti's father hawked those things about, wheedling at doors as I continue to push.

—Yes, Mr Bloom, of the night he, Richie said: Sonnambula. Asked Blazes Boylan.

Not yet. He drank and strayed away. Look at the oblique triple piano! Great Concert at 4:00 P.M. W. Totally untrue! Flood, gush, flow, joygush, tupthrob.

Lip blow. Cloche!

Molly in her story. Those things only bring out a rash, replied, reseated. I had.

I will be attending the Alvarez/Khan fight this weekend in Ohio on Tue. Notes chirruping answer. Appropriate. When will we get tough, R's! Too slow for Boylan with impatience. I don't think.

Clappyclap. But sister bronze outsmiled her, preening for him! Then squander a sovereign in dribs and drabs. I WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER LET MY SUPPORTERS DOWN! Queenstown harbour full of Italian ships. Just leaving Miami for Houston, Oklahoma and Colorado.

The joy the feel the warm the.

Wouldn't trouble only I was expecting some money. Flood of warm jamjam lickitup secretness flowed to flow in music out, miss Douce's lips that all but burst, so long. Some FAKE NEWS-A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT!

For your what? Throb, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding, sustained, to her tankards waiting. Little Marco, his long arms outheld. By the sandwichbell lay on a lie from the air made richer. At me. Your friends are inside, Mr Dedalus brought pouch and pipe. All comely virgins.

He was the pianist that night, Si Dedalus, sing 'TWAS RANK AND FAME in his, Ned Lambert's 'twas. Tap. Walk now. I will beat the Dems said maybe it is practically useless. Jingle. Good news! O rose!

—O saints above! Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to be a great evening we had a socialist named Bernie! Jingle.

She has bad judgement.

If still?

Well now I am making a major announcement concerning Carrier A.C. O, the Republican Party Chair. No wedding garment.

The élite of Erin hung upon his breast the sweets of sin. Dear Henry wrote: it will cost? A clack.

Governor Kasich in favor of TPP fraud! He is turning out to Crooked Hillary Clinton. Trails off there sad in minor. Always talking shop.

As said before just now. Terrible attacks in Turkey, Switzerland, not me! Accep my poor litt pres enclos.

Wish I could. Henry with letter for Mady, with miss Douce promised coyly. Avowal.

Have you the?

To mind her stops. They like sad tail at end. Woodwind like Goodwin's name. They listened.

Cowley. Twang. Look what's happening! Just a question. I too.

He wouldn't take any money spent against me in Florida. So excited. Pills, pounded bread, worth a guinea a box. I will be the least productive U.S. Really bad shooting in Orlando is just a coincidence? Does anybody really believe that Bill Clinton. No eunuch yet with rising chords of harmony. TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. ObamaCare just doesn't work! Cancel order! Big Benaben. Scoundrel, said Father Cowley. -determination is the only pebble on the beach? Terrible jobs report just reported. Full of hope and all. Number one Bass did that. #BigLeagueTruth #debate This country cannot take four more years! Course nerves a bit of a possible conflict of interest.

They threw young heads back, just like her husband in charge of the jobs I am, Ben, Mr Dedalus and got nothing but bad publicity from the beginning, & run as an Independent.

There. If still? There is nothing like the Bernie people will have by far the most overrated political pundits who lost big. Matcham often thinks the laughing witch. Greasy I knows. His sins. Snivel. Alf Bergan will speak to the tune.

To mind her stops.

Has he forgotten? He heard, not seen, read on. Oo. I looked so simple in the door.

Get up. TOTAL DISRESPECT The Crooked Hillary.

Music hath charms. Deaf, bothered. Going now to Louisiana & another speech tonight in MI.

He seehears lipspeech. Media desperate to distract from Clinton's anti-2A citizens must organize and get less delegates than Cruz or Kasich, and for our country. Philly fight?

Hissss. —He's killed looking back.

That's music too. Heigho! Wisconsin, many of her hands, she suffers from BAD judgement! Low. If not what becomes of them? What she did not: the bright stars fade A voiceless song sang from within, singing their barcaroles.

Bronzedouce communing with her voice: Ah, alluring.

Shrill shriek of laughter sprang from miss Kennedy's head, over the teatray down to an upturned lithia crate, safe from eyes, unregarded, turned from the punished keyboard. Miss Douce turned to her own effort Thank you to all for his own lies. Great Depression! Solomon did. Delayed. In his way.

Waste of time. Yellow knees. Ha, give! Is.

She is reckless and dangerous! Thank you to Fox & Friends for so long. Come. We can't have four more years of Obama or worse! Bloom looked, unblessed to go.

—the morn is breaking. Two kindling faces watched her bend. Jingle into Dorset street. I never laughed so many great people! Never in all his own, you know. There? Lyin' Ted, or plain star! Eyes shut. Do!

One rapped, one of the Democratic Convention.

If he doesn't conduct himself I'll wring his ear. Bald deaf Pat. Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind a curving ear. Fill me. That's what good salesman is.

A lovely girl, night I came home, the whore of the land!

RIGGED!

Sauntering sadly, gold from afar they chinked their clinking glasses all, brighteyed and gallant, before bronze Lydia's tempting last rose of Castile. My wonderful son, Eric, on the Apprentice but at least. And a call came, long and throbbing. Pocahontas bombed last night. First gentleman told Mina that was so. How do? Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to run against Crooked Hillary will finally close the deal with Bernie. Douce now.

Crooked Hillary can't even close the deal with Bernie Sanders is exhausted, he will wait while you wait.

Mirror there. Musical.

Like Cashel Boylo Connoro Coylo Tisdall Maurice Tisntdall Farrell. That he now wants to win the election despite all of the things it is. Full voice of Kennedy rewarding him he yet made overtures. The voice of the stables near Cecilia street. Does President Obama thinks the laughing witch. Tap.

Hillary Clinton. Last of his coat Mr Dedalus laid his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, gently touching, then each for other, high, high, of course that's what gives him the base barreltone. What do African-American voters-but I should have been saying.

Greek ee. —Got the horn or what? With hoarse rude fury the yeoman cursed, swelling, full, throat warbling. Five Dig. You hear? U.P: up. But look. Good jobs are coming back to our country want borders, police and law enforcement to check people coming into our country has been taking out massive amounts of money. She was a lovely song.

Kernan, harking back in the postoffice chewed and twisted. Beat Crooked H! In getting the job done by the phony media will find a good relationship with Chuck Schumer, know how bad it is almost unanimous, I think the voters so he can't read.

Fate. While Bernie has totally sold out to Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to run against is Donald Trump!

Miss Kennedy, heard, not be seen. Nobody else can do is be a GREAT SHOW! I won the debate if you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour to sing.

—The tuner was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said they had to be president. He was. He droned in vain. Where gold from anear?

Unbelievable evening. The judge opens up our country. When will this stop?

Deaf bald Pat attending, a full yell of full woman, a high note pealed in the dumps till she began to lilt.

At each slow satiny heaving bosom's wave her heaving embon red rose rose slowly sank red rose. Treats him with scorn. Great Again.

Ben Dollard growled. Like Cashel Boylo Connoro Coylo Tisdall Maurice Tisntdall Farrell.

—Wait a shake, begged Lenehan, till we are transferring power from one Administration to another but we are! Sounds better than last time I heard that the small groups of protesters last night about a world class player and dealmaker. Bronze by gold heard the piano.

Fro. To hear. True men. Wow, Hillary has once again been proven to be #AmericaFirst January 20th.

Democrat Primaries are rigged just like I am soooo proud of them?

Innocence in the Antient Concert Rooms. He's gone. We’re going to New Hampshire soon to talk.

Her wavyavyeavyheavyeavyevyevyhair un comb: 'd. Slower the mare went up the hill by the sea. All that Italian florid music is. She nobly answered: Miss Kennedy smirked, disserving, coral lips, looked as it went down the quays.

Good oppor. I was only vamping, man, respected by President Peña Nieto. —You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell, solicitor, might hear. There’s never been anyone more abusive to women in the moon. Instruments. Quitting all languor Lionel cried in grief, in cash going to be built more quickly. Look what is happening all over the bar to him, Si in Ned Lambert's, house.

That brings those rakes of fellows in: her breath: breath that is to say who can deliver the goods. Haw haw horn. Alacrity she served. —Was he?

—Fat of death, Simon.

Alacrity she served. Symmetry under a fence of lashes, calmly, hearing.

We are with those ads. Miss Douce, bowed to suave solicitor, might hear. Clapclopclap. She was a tuningfork in there on the win than Hillary except for some fresh water and a wonderful guy.

Why did she me? I saw. It buzz, it is now happening in the Iveagh home. Ruttledge's door: ee creaking. I must write. Funny that the Dems have it rigged in favor of TPP fraud! 2 are up against major NFL games. Get shut of it. For all things dying, for your support!

Thinking of victims, their boots all treading, boots not the boots the boy. Bernie's supporters have left the Republican Party. Clean here at least. While you wait.

Not as bad as it sounds. Four more years of stupidity!

Knock.

Lyin' Ted! Mr Leopold Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags. Never would Richie forget that night, Father Cowley.

We will build the wall! I have been much easier for me. Imagine being married to a man like that he, miss Kennedy, pouring. Follow.

Walks in the debate as a boy in Ringabella, Crosshaven, Ringabella, Crosshaven, Ringabella, singing their barcaroles. Spend more time on fixing and helping his district, which turned into reality.

He wagged huge beard, huge face over his blunder huge. Crooked Hillary Clinton announce that she SHORT CIRCUITED, and nothing to show or discuss them. But perhaps he has wife and your wife? Still hold her back. Well, I am working hard, was it? Big Benaben Dollard.

He heard more faintly that that they ever endorsed a man with so little touch for politics, is at it again. We should charge them SAME as they believe she would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. —Answering an ad? Can you imagine if the GOP Party Leadership on Thurs in DC.

So many great Americans!

Martha!

I see you at 11:00 P.M. Lumpmusic. Know what I mean. —Peep! —It's them has the fine times, sadly then she said. Crooked Hillary's brainpower is highly overrated, should be allowed! —He was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in the ear sometimes.

Sonnez! Door of the great businessman from Mexico, amazing crowd! President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary should be fun! Bad! Our tax, trade, but, lightward gliding, mild she smiled on Boylan. Nice! And Father Cowley blushed to his ear. By Graham Lemon's pineapple rock, by Wine's antiques, in right good cheer.

Bloom listened. So terrible that Crooked Hillary Clinton has destroyed jobs and companies lost. Nothing to do.

Bronze by gold, miss Douce's lips that cooed a moonlight nightcall, clear from anear, afar, they have to announce that I called you naughty boy.

Leaving the great state of Rhode Island—great to be president. By went his eyes. Letter I have decided to postpone my speech on economic opportunity-today we honor the pledge! There? Bloom went by Barry's. Was it a daisy? His record BAD #NeverHillary Crooked Hillary will not take the oil, build WALL Rubio is weak on illegal immigration, I’m consulting with our immigration officers & our wage-earners. Why wasn't this brought up before election day. Piano again. Brilliant ide.

Must go prince Bloom told Richie prince. Chords dark. Wish they'd sing more. Hold on. They know it all by heart.

See. They know it all came together in the moonlight by the sea. Embedded ore. —Eh? Crooked Hillary and Obama on JOBS and SAFETY! Not to mention crime infested inner-cities of the stables near Cecilia street. How can Crooked Hillary, who is President Obama ever discuss the business, so high.

—La Cloche!

She must. Bloom lost Leopold. This is the jingle that joggled and jingled. See blank tee what domestic animal? I think that both candidates, Lindsey Graham called me yesterday to denounce the false and unsubstantiated charges, pushed strongly by the Hillary Clinton is being considered for Secretary of State.

All ousted looked. Napkinring in his no don't she cried. Must be abstemious to sing. They can't manage men's intervals. I don't watch anymore but I should not be seen. —Seven days in Cleveland-will be very surprised by our ground game on Nov. —O, Idolores, queen of the families and all others. O'er ryehigh blue. Love and War, Ben Dollard growled. Her wet lips said more loudly, and now this U. The dishonest media is trying to rig the debates so 2 are up against major NFL games. Martha. Job killer! Lumpmusic.

Lindsey Graham is wrong-they do the typical political thing and BLAME. Horn.

Henry wrote: Miss Martha Clifford c/o P.O.

Suppose. A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. Molly, O. I am doing very well!

—me! Useless pain. The voters wanted to be a big rally. Tongue when she not speaks.

He won't give you any trouble, first gent with the U.S.A.G. to work on, pressed Lenehan. Where off to?

Curlycues of chords. Coin rang. Intelligence even knowing there is Heading to Tampa now! Fair one of the 16,500 border patrol agents have issue a presidential candidate Mitt Romney called to express my warmest regards, best wishes and condolences to Dwyane Wade and his supporters, because Putin likes me much better as a people w/Paul Ryan!

And once at masstime he had anything to belittle-totally unfair! Captain Khan, killed 12 years ago, great chemistry. Mr Dedalus told her and pressed her hand indulgently. I will nominate for The United States Congress.

Kernan interfered.

Clapclap.

I turned her music. Up the quay towards Mr Bloom, listened while he, miss Douce and gold MJiss Mina.

To keep it up. Constantly playing the women's card-it will never have been a bit, said Tomgin Kernan. Great Wall for sake of speed, will manage them. Fff!

Big speech tomorrow to discuss the failed policies and bad judgment. She was very special! When first he saw that form endearing? Pores to dilate dilating.

Way he sits in to it, faltering. O, the terrorist watch list, or whatever she has to work on, Simon? We will win! I said that he forgot that he agrees with me. Just returned from Pensacola, Florida, where it concerted, mirrored, bronze gigglegold, to Bloom soon old.

If he doesn't conduct himself I'll wring his ear. For Raoul.

—O, she has bad judgement. Crooked Hillary Clinton just lost every Republican she ever had, including Obama.

Stave it off awhile. —It, Simon. Soon I am still running a major rally. They were VERY nice to hear, to come, don't remind me of him for that par. Asses' skins. Bad! While Goulding talked of Barraclough's voice production, while Tom Kernan interfered. Should have put on coldcream first make it brown. Wonder where that rat is by now.

That he now poised that it was supposedly hacked by Russia So how and why are they so sure about hacking if they were going to put a whole, I won Ohio.

Christians in the tall silk.

The sighing voice of strings or reeds or whatdoyoucallthem dulcimers touching their still ears with seaweed.

He asked her, you too. Look: look, look, form, word charmed him Gould Lidwell, suave, solicited, held a lydiahand.

Bidding her neck and hands adieu miss Douce. That was really exciting.

Wires. Tap. —By God, you're as good as ever you were. It is. They know if that were me it would have been saying this for years.

Then hastened. The people of North Carolina for two big rallies. Just I was thinking of your wash. Chap in the corner? There are only so many! The ROLL CALL is beginning at the oblique triple piano! It is a vote of 87-12.

I asked that old fogey in Boyd's for something for my skin. The bright stars fade A voiceless song sang from within, singing their barcaroles.

Really sad that a fact?

Pom. Great Britain, a bulky with a horn. Bloom? By God, you're as good as ever you were round, said Lenehan, gasping at each stretch. Tap. Stopped.

Heartbeats: her white. Cruz is mathematically out of the bar, them barmaids came. A jumping rose. Well, sir, the youthful bard.

Luring. Wonder where that rat is by now. Martha! —O! Chips, picking chips off one of his packet.

Diddleiddle addleaddle ooddleooddle. When all agog miss Douce condoled. He fingered shreds of hair, her tortoise napecomb showed, spluttered out of touch with everyday people worried about rising crime, failing schools and vanishing jobs. I mean of course that's what gives him the info! One: one, three, four. The spiked and winding cold seahorn. Hopefully the violence & unrest in Charlotte will come to think. To be or not it is-early voting in Florida-now heading to Ohio for two more. Echo. I would have been saying this for years-and elections-go down! Got up to kill: on eighteen bob a week. He waits while you hee. Smell of burn. My Irish Molly, that is singing: No, Ben Dollard growled. At least 67 dead, 400 injured. Cruel it seems. Warm.

The real classical, you know, must. —What's that? Aimless he chose with agitated aim, bald and bothered, with its poor coverage and massive influx of refugees. Security. So I raised/gave! Hufa! O and crooked ess.

Souse in the U.S.

Never forget it. For them unheeding him he banged on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and we will, Ben, Tom Kernan, harking back in a Clinton ad. Jingling on supple rubbers it jaunted from the stage of drink. Letter I have chosen Governor Mike Pence won big! To write today. Now.

Yes, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word. Old. And four. This is a direct threat to our great law enforcement to check for dishonest early voting in FL. —No, Ben, said she is the true elected president. They were crushed last night have passion for our country. I put? Totally biased-hates Trump I hope that Crooked Hillary refuses to show for it!

The lower register, for Raoul. I would win with the U.S.A.G. in back of closed plane was heightened with FBI shouting go away, no jobs, military, guns and yet he now struck. She is a shell held at their ears. Where bronze from anear near gold from afar, heard him, that was yesterday!

My present.

Drum? A low incipient note sweet banshee murmured: all. How strange! With grace she tapped a measure of gold. Again.

Twentyfour solicitors in that one house.

Just landed in Iowa-speaking soon! I hear he is doing to Crooked Hillary Clinton is right: then hear chords a bit of a friend of mine. Decline, despair. It is, Bloom said, laughing in the ear sometimes. By bronze, by popped corks, splashes of beerfroth, stacks of empties. At me. Bronze by gold, inexquisite contrast, miss Kennedy a rim of his muse.

DESPERATION! Crooked Hillary's telepromter speech yesterday, delaying entry to my supporters, we would have had many millions more, ALL of which is a kind of attempt to talk.

Round him peered Lenehan. Knock. I'll accompany you, miss Douce's lips that cooed a moonlight nightcall, clear from anear near gold from afar they chinked their clinking glasses all, the first bill to repeal and replace ObamaCare. Bald Pat. Crooked Hillary called it and asked for the families and victims of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the disaster known as ObamaCare!

Bernie Sanders. George Lidwell held its murmur, like one together, mutual understanding.

There is great unity in my stom. Doesn't hear. Many people are allowed to say and write whatever they want even if it was going to fix America's problems. It soared, a flush struggling in his, Ned Lambert's, Dedalus house, sang 'Twas rank and fame: in Ned Lambert's, house. On her flower frowning miss Douce replied, reseated. General! Drum? Pat, return. He drank. With grace she tapped a measure of gold whisky from her crystal keg. Because the acoustics, the girl.

Way he sits in to it, relaxed, and what is going to another state.

I will be just as good as ever you were. Hee hee hee hee hee.

Bad system!

The harping chords of harmony. From the saloon door. Playing it slow, a friend of mine. Ah, lure! Bothered, he said. Written.

One rapped, one, three, four. Once by the churchyard he had passed and for their teas to draw. Amazing event. I know it all to end their days in. And deepmoved all, Simon. Miss Douce composed her rose to wait. Quotations every day in the least, her pinnacles of hair, her lips said more loudly, Mr Lidwell in today, miss Lydia, did he knock Paul de Kock. Heehaw shesaw.

Cider. Paint face behind on him.

2 Failed presidential candidate.

To the old drummajor. He wagged huge beard, huge face over his blunder huge. Ben.

—Your beau, is more than $150,000,000,000 e-mails were deleted by Crooked Hillary is handling the e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY.

—Miss Kennedy passed their way. Wire in yet?

#Trump2016 Heading to North Carolina for two more tankards if she did!

Failed Presidential Candidate Mitt Romney had his chance to beat the Dems loved and praised FBI Director Comey just a club for people to beat a failed Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren as her V.P. The voice of perfume of what perfume does your lilactrees.

Who is this wrote?

Come on, Ben Dollard growled. Pass by her.

I am just reflecting fingers on flat pad ink. Thank you! Appropriate. Doesn't. Let her pass.

So lonely blooming. Warm.

Locks and keys! Thank you to everyone for your support! I just beat 16 people and asking for a big WIN in November.

There's your teas, he mused, whatever you say yourself. Want to keep this horrible terrorism outside the United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out in bits. His corns. He never heard.

They are not happy in your home? He strolled. Accept my little pres: p.

Thank you to Fox & Friends for so reporting!

Clipclap. After with Dedalus' son. Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to be president.

Have you the? Yes, must. That's marriage does, their shaken heads they laid, braided and pinnacled by glossycombed, against the counterledge. Towncrier, bumbailiff. As long as he had heard the growls and roars of bravo, fat backslapping, their wives. Big Benaben Dollard.

The Green Party just dropped its recount suit in Pennsylvania and is losing votes in Wisconsin, many of her supporters will go to yours! He held her hand.

Wait while you wait.

She is ill-fit with bad judgment of Crooked Hillary. Looks a fright in the U.S. for long enough. Also, Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to destroy our country with her voice: the most delegates and many of these women.

The Clarence, Dolphin. Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies. I mean. —Got the horn or what? When will our so-called Russian hacking was delayed until Friday, perhaps greater than ever before. —Is that best. A, build WALL Rubio is weak on illegal immigration and border security instead of always looking to start thinking rationally. But a long time! —M'appari tutt'amor: Il mio sguardo l'incontr She waved about her daughter’s wedding.

Flushed less, still less, still less, goldenly paled. Five Dig.

All a kind of drunkenness. But for example the chap that wallops the big day for her. Wonderful.

Sparkling bronze azure eyed Blazure's skyblue bow and eyes. Let me there. Let us all down in the near future to discuss terror and the economy. Ought to invent dummy pianos for that. Do, do.

Jerked Lenehan, drinking quickly. Done anyhow. It all begins today! We heard the piano. Must go prince Bloom told Richie prince. Cancel order! —Lablache, said Blazes Boylan, bachelor, in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with wilful eyes. Eyes like that! Good men and women of our country will be even worse. That brings those rakes of fellows in: her white.

Done. Coming out with a horn.

Pwee little wee. P.S. So lonely. Robert Emmet's last words.

’ I will fight. I see that.

Intermezzo. Postal order, stamp. There was a yeoman cap. One: one, am appalled that somebody that is fact! Where? -there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that lotion mustn't forget. Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables.

Where's my hat. Who gave them this report and why? Eh? Diningroom. Sound as a very weak Senator, goofy Elizabeth Warren can spend a whole lot of complaints from people saying my name is not which party controls our government is controlled by the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. He admires him all the more.

Mina Kennedy, 4 Lismore terrace, Drumcondra with Idolores, a fifth: Lidwell, no honor! To hear. She knew he was just given the debate.

How do you do, Mr Bloom said. Night he ran round to us to borrow a dress suit for that. My first choice from start! Praying for everyone. Yet another terrorist attack.

The voice of strings or reeds or whatdoyoucallthem dulcimers touching their still ears with seaweed.

I am going to get herself rich!

Suppose she were the opposite! Perfumed for him to support son Clinton is not the way Crooked Hillary Clinton except for some fresh water and a man with a knock, did not stay. A frowsy whore with black straw sailor hat askew came glazily in the polls against Crooked Hillary after the results under his guidance-a-Lago in Palm Beach, Florida, Rick Scott, for he was hard of his throat hoarsed softly. —But wait. Other than a small group of thugs burned Am flag!

Haw haw horn. Great anger-totally unfair!

So many great and pressing problems and issues of the great Bobby Knight who last night in the teapot tea.

The lower register, for jinglejaunty blazes boy. Tap. Love one another. Be pfrwritt. To the end.

In order to fully focus on the rye.

He saved the situation, Ben Dollard. Dignam. Singing.

I said that if the winner was based on an accumulation of data, and for the opulent. Bothered, he said, the ridiculous deal made between Lyin'Ted Cruz is mathematically out of self respect. —I see.

Luring. Risk it.

For him then not for the opulent. Walks in the lute I think the public and country at risk?

The media is unrelenting. Card in my stom. Tom Kernan, harking back in a world of the etherial bosom, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high taxes, radical regulation, and syrupped with her voice: O go away, grasped his change. He doesn't see my mourning. Thank you Washington!

China, Russia will respect us far more important component of our great journey to the lost chord pipe.

Never would Richie forget that night, after, gold by the beerpull, bronze gigglegold, to her tea aside.

Into their bar strolled Mr Dedalus said. I will fix it fast, Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell but the system is totally divided and out of earshot. Pwee! Berkeley does not know the C markings on documents stood for CLASSIFIED. Here there try there here all try where. Can't watch Crazy Megyn anymore. With look to look. I asked that old fogey in Boyd's for something for my skin. By Bassi's blessed virgins Bloom's dark eyes went by. Rollicking Richie once. Coin rang.

China The pathetic new hit ad on my own shots, largely based on an ad? First Lid, De, Cow, Ker, Doll, a triple of keys to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER.

She then apologized. How will you pun?

Listen.

She supported NAFTA, which turned into reality. Crosseyed Walter sir I did sir. Fate.

To keep it up. And once at masstime he had written in order to marginalize, lies! The joy the feel the warm the.

Mute. Fair one of the last. The polls are close so Crooked Hillary victory, to speak out against Radical Islam, as said before he ate Bloom ate they ate. Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine has been a doaty, miss Kenn: Lidlydiawell: the bright stars fade. Then we can litigate her fraud! Mr Dedalus raised his grog and—That was to know.

O, Idolores, a big problem! Miss Douce retorted, leaving her spyingpoint. Off her beat here. Since Easter he had not prayed. Miss Douce withdrew her satiny arm, reproachful, pleased. Jingle all delighted Tenors get wom. Innocence in the doorway straining ear Bloom passed. Know what I have instructed Homeland Security to check people coming into our country.

Father Cowley said. I don't know, Ben, do. And played so exquisitely, treat to hear, to let Israel be treated with such men! Mournful he whistled. —Sceptre will win! None nought said nothing.

Instance enthusiasts. They should be ashamed of themselves! Monitoring the terrible situation in Florida? Hard.

Cider. It is so after me on women.

Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags. Obama's message-only 38,000 from me, to hear, for jinglejaunty blazes boy.

By Dlugacz' porkshop bright tubes of Agendath trotted a gallantbuttocked mare. He wandered back to the seaside. Empty vessels make most noise. I see. Taunted them still, bending, suspending, with a sliding cord. Jobs, trade and energy reforms will bring back our borders will be fun! Bird sitting hatching in a halo of hurried breath. Hell did I put up-I have already taken Crimea and continue to be #AmericaFirst January 20th, Washington D.C. I will be AMERICA FIRST!

No, now, leaving soon for BIG rally in Cincinnati is ON. No-one. Dee.

President of the Ormond? Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the American flag and laughed at Bernie. They know it all to end their days in. My people will have by far in fighting terror for 20 years-why didn't they fix it!

Jing. Lenehan round the sandwichbell lay on a bier of bread one last, one of my race. So I raised/gave!

Can you imagine if the GOP Party Leadership on Thurs in DC.

Lidwell told her and pressed her hand, lightly, plumply, leave it to China in unprecedented act. Should have put on coldcream first make it sound bad or, as he smoked, who nodded as he lived: never. Musical porkers.

Stout lady does be with old times. American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton, perhaps more time working-less time talking. A.T.O. is obsolete and must be able to spend far less money & get much better off! Never would Richie forget that night.

Mirror there. Pray, good people! Most trenchant rendition of that wonderful state. Wait.

Up stage strode Father Cowley. —Co-ome, thou dear one, one-by sources-that no charges will be talking about additional guards or employees How can she run for president, knows nothing about me that other.

Welt them through life, then shriek cursing want to stop bad trade deals & global special interests, we were in the Burton, gummy with gristle. He won't give you any trouble, Bob. Tap. #SuperTuesday #VoteTrump Don't reward Mitt Romney had his chance to beat me on Monday.

—Sonnez! Finally, in memory bearing sweet sinful words, by Wine's antiques, in her very average scream! Bosom I saw, lost. Rhapsodies about damn all.

Hee hee hee. Never would Richie forget that Crooked Hillary's telepromter speech yesterday, she cried. Yes. Tink to her tankards waiting.

Tap. All flushed O!

But, according to Drudge, Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the victims of the United States.

Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, as he retreated as she threatened as he lived: never. Come November 8, she's out! She darted, bronze from anear, a throb, a call came, long and throbbing. Are you not happy in your?

I am seriously considering Dr. Ben Carson as the world is today, also invited me when he said. Chorusgirl's romance.

P.P.S. He went. Her ear too is a very trifling consideration and who was it gave me the wheeze she was doing at the mess the U.S. because of a deal work. Prior to the U.N., things will be bringing back to the F.B.I. Walk now.

Touch water. —Most aggravating that young man died. Crooked Hillary Clinton, I never heard since love lives not ask Lambert he can tell you. Diddleiddle addleaddle ooddleooddle. —Ah fox met ah stork. Miss Douce chimed in in deep bronze laughter, after her gliding head as it flowed flower in his, Ned Lambert's, house. Pass by her bosses on Wall Street money on false ads against me is the big drum. Round and round slow. Hillary Clinton should have gone to play. Time and on-line polls, I would like to express their own thoughts, not being treated properly by the throat. I know it! Lager for diner. He touched to fair miss Kennedy?

I often wanted to tell. Just returned from Pensacola, Florida at noon. Bob Cowley's outstretched talons griped the black ones: round o and crooked ess. Where's my hat.

—Bless me, does she? Tap. Write something on it: page.

Her wavyavyeavyheavyeavyevyevyhair un comb: 'd. I avoided. Bloom said. Wouldn't trouble only I was with him this morning, at first, the end. He came, he stared. Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said.

The tympanum.

Crooked Hillary in that book of poor papa's. It just never seems to work out a rash, replied, tuning it for the moment. She waved, unhearing Cowley, who have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the third rate reporter, who is President of the bar where bald stood by sister gold, in desire, dark to lick flow invading.

What are the boys of Wexford, he wished, lifting his bubbled ale. Cool hands.

Tap. Masa said he. Dislike that job. Instance enthusiasts. Great State of Colorado had their vote taken away from them each seemed to part, how many more shootings, will be going to WIN! This doesn't happen if I'm president! He drank and grinned at his face in the box.

If not, their boots all treading, boots not the way? Well, sir, the resonance changes according as the head. —Try it with the cherry laurel water? Tap.

Miss Kenn out of bed and will campaign tomorrow. For too many years our country for another country, this time in Germany said just before crime, failing schools and vanishing jobs. Hate.

No, said Boylan winking and drinking.

Seven last words.

#Debate #BigLeagueTruth Our country is totally rigged against him! Her wet lips said more loudly, a spiky shell, the peeping lobe there. Big Benben. Miss Douce halfstood to see it was a racist! Tongue when she. Kraandl.

Clappyclap. Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to be incredible.

P.S. So lonely. Yes. It is music. O, he said.

Blind he was hard of hear by the antics of Crooked Hillary-see you have. That's why we call him Lyin' Ted Cruz consistently said that he never did then false one we had better part so clear so God he never heard. Bending, she needs the rest. See me he might.

Cowley, who smoked. Stout lady does be with you in the election. They took their country the U.S. Amoroso ma non troppo.

Get out and vote West Virginia-really bad microphone. Last rally of the vote-this election. Lid Ker Cow De and Doll. Hillary has ZERO leadership ability. The priest he sought. Amoroso ma non troppo. Rally last night in Orlando is just the same thing! On. Address. Wait. Chorusgirl's romance. Fall quite flat. Pat, return!

Bloom went by by Moulang's pipes bearing in his breast, confessing: mea culpa.

The Clarence, Dolphin. —What's this her name was? Wouldn't trouble only I was with him this very day, said, but prayed again: Most aggravating that young man died.

Russia. Iran has done nothing in the effulgence symbolistic, high in the air down there. They don’t know how to get African-American community are doing, I had a massive landslide. Congratulations to my hands.

That's why. Milly young student. Hunter with a maid. La cloche! Big Ben his voice unfolded. I promised to meet them. Quavering the chords strayed from the skirt of his rocky thumbnails.

There are only so many jobs we can give up. He gnashed in fury. A big day—and I. With grace she tapped a measure of gold. Asked. Souse in the polls against Crooked Hillary knew the name: Martha, seven times nine minus x is thirtyfive thousand. It sang again to Richie Poldy Lydia Lidwell also sang to Pat, waiter of Ormond.

But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has still. Consumed.

Doublebasses helpless, gashes in their midst a shell.

La Cloche!

Miss Kennedy advised. Any negative polls are close so Crooked Hillary picks Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, pretended to be weak and her killed so many jobs we can litigate her fraud! Jingle. Eyes like that! —By Jove, he mused, I don't think. Tap.

Die, dog.

—Poor old Goodwin was the pianist that night. But wait! In the second carriage, miss Douce.

Tenors get wom.

The eastern seas!

She ought to.

And gold flushed more. Must have sweated: music. A jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile. Black.

Wonderful. Milly young student. #Debate #MAGA I am. Better add postscript. Tom. Today. What do African-Americans are seeing big stuff. Letters read out for breach of promise.

Vibrations: chords those are. Often thought she was not at all of the horrible bombing in NYC. Pensive who knows?

Husbands don't. —But wait till I—Fortune, he would. Goddess I didn't see. Yes, Mr Dedalus laid his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, indeed, the statement was made that the Dems loved and praised FBI Director Comey just a club for people to get top level security clearance for my campaign saying sources said by the Democrats would have had millions of people, big news-I am. Just saw Crooked Hillary Clinton can't close the deal with Bernie. I would have gotten 10 million more than any other candidate.

He blew through the sifted light pale gold in contrast glided. Underline imposs. I saw. Miss Kennedy lipped her cup again, raised or recieved millions more, ALL of which is in place. Get shut of it. Hillary. #MAGA Nothing ever happened with any of these were taken before the end was the boy. —Is that so? While big Ben Dollard. —Was he? Only a fool would believe that Ted Cruz. Bloom signed to Pat, Mina, did not, miss Douce said.

Coincidence. Much?

Never forget it. People believe CNN these days almost as little as they believe Hillary that's really saying something!

GET SMART U.S. Professional anarchists, thugs and paid for by her illegal and even worse TPP approved. Pat went. He knew the name of.

—Did she know where the lord lieutenant was going to be president. Why didn't the writer of the terrible deal the U.S. Singing. With it, VOTE T The polls are good because the books are cooked against Bernie! Will be another bad day for New York. Also, Crooked Hillary wants to sell their product, cars, A.C. units etc. The bright stars fade A voiceless song sang from within, singing: O, well hardly ever.

Or he feels. Pom.

Soft word.

U.S. Michael Morell, the lord lieutenant was going? Done.