#so many courser asks

[new-eyes-extra-colors]

Is Shaun Nora's child? If so, does she view X6 as family due to his closeness to Father, or just as a friend?

shaun is nora's biological child, yep, and post-institute when asked she says she has two sons (referring to shaun and synth!shaun--but a minor plot point in my fic is that she doesn't tell anyone about synth!shaun being a synth. if pressed for details, she just says her eldest passed away recently and that typically shuts down any further questions).

oh, edited to add bc i don't think i was clear: she treats synth!shaun as a son too. she takes to him straightaway. he's still a child who views her as his mother, and she still wants to be a parent. they have a good relationship.

she does view x6 as family, but in a found-family sort of way that doesn't have anything to do with them sharing dna. she thinks shaun calling himself "father" is extremely--i think paternalistic is the right word, and she emphatically does not approve. she feels family is a lot more than genetic material, and so is parenthood, which relates back to her family situation mentioned here.

she and x6 grow close as they work together and kind of outside the bounds of father's knowledge. x6 is a smart guy and figures out nora's still working for the railroad, and for his own reasons keeps it to himself, and nora's aware that if she actually reported how snarky and independent x6 is, he'd be sent to reconditioning. so their relationship is tense for a while, but eventually grows genuine and very close.

i think outside of nick, x6 is the companion she's closest with by the end of things.

[shierakqiyas]

EXPLORING THE PARALLELS BETWEEN DAENERYS TARGARYEN AND ELIZABETH I OF ENGLAND

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are the last descendants of their dynasties (House Targaryen & House Tudor)

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are daughters of tyrant Kings (Aerys Targaryen & Henry VIII)

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are the third in the line of succession to the throne which make them unlikely heirs but the unpredictable deaths of their respective siblings made them rise to power and becoming Queens regnant that ruled in their own rights.

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are preyed upon by their guardians. ( Jorah mormont is dany's sworn protector/knight and Thomas seymour is elizabeth's stepfather)

He should not be doing this. I am his queen, not his woman. (...) It was a long kiss, though how long Dany could not have said. When it ended, Ser Jorah let go of her, and she took a quick step backward. “You… you should not have…”

—Dany, A storm of swords

Seymour’s own behaviour was not calculated to make this seem unlikely, for he treated Elizabeth in a boisterous way that was too tinged with sexuality to be dismissed as playfulness pure and simple. He liked to engage the teenage girl in suggestive banter, coming into her bedchamber before she was fully dressed so that he could “bid her good morrow and ask her how she did, and strike her upon the back or on the buttocks familiarly”. If he found her still in bed, “he would put open the curtains and … make as though he would come at her”, forcing Elizabeth to burrow helplessly under the bedclothes. “One morning he strave to have kissed her in her bed”, which even Mrs Ashley thought was going too far, and she “bade him go away for shame”. Mrs Ashley’s presence ensured that these sessions could not get too out of hand, nor was Elizabeth herself an altogether willing victim. She was able to outwit the Lord Admiral by rising earlier than usual, so that when Seymour entered he found her up and dressed, and demurely absorbed in study.

—Queen Elizabeth I by Anne Somerset

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are polyglots. their abilities to speak many languages allowed them to converse easily with people from various backgrounds that visited their courts.

Reznak and Skahaz waited atop the marble steps. “Great queen,” declared Reznak mo Reznak, “you are so radiant today I fear to look on you.” The seneschal wore a tokar of maroon silk with a golden fringe. A small, damp man, he smelled as if he had bathed in perfume and spoke a bastard form of High Valyrian, much corrupted and flavored with a thick Ghiscari growl.

“You are kind to say so,” Dany answered, in the same tongue.

—Dany, A dance with dragons

(..) While her mastery of so many languages later assisted her conduct of diplomacy by enabling her to converse with foreign ambassadors,

She (Elizabeth) did not see language simply as a means of communication but as an artistic medium, and it was this that inspired the singular cadences and ornate phraseology of her mature speech.

—Queen Elizabeth I by Anne Somerset

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth's take great joy in riding horses

Dany rode fearlessly, and the joy and the danger of it were a song in her heart.

Dany thought of her only as the silver. She had never loved anything so much.

—Dany,A game of thrones

She was an excellent rider, and had such a good seat on a horse that in February 1560 the Spanish ambassador reported admiringly, “The Queen rides out every day into the country on a Neapolitan courser or jennet … She makes a brave show, and bears herself gallantly”.

—Queen Elizabeth I by Anne Somerset

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth sought by many marriage suitors because of their power and high status

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth have secret lovers, Daenerys take Daario as a lover just like Elizabeth I (assumed by historians) take Robert Dudley as her secret lover. because Daario and Robert are too lowborn, their close relationships with Daenerys & Elizabeth faced with disapproval and scrutiny from people in the queens's courts.

The old knight neither liked nor trusted Daario, she knew. Even so, he had answered gallantly. "There is no woman more lovely than Your Grace. Only a blind man could believe otherwise, and Daario Naharis was not blind."

—Dany, A dance with dragons

When Kat, with her usual impetuosity, again urged that, whatever the facts of the case, the damage to her reputation could even lead to civil war, Elizabeth - emotional now - refused an appeal that she see less of Robert. She needed him, she said, because 'in this world she had so much sorrow and tribulation and so little joy'. To some of the foreign ambassadors, this was indeed becoming a scandal that could even topple Elizabeth from the throne.

—Elizabeth and Leicester: The Truth about the Virgin Queen and the Man She Loved.

daenerys art credit to :

[shift-shaping]

How many of these wolves are actually 'dreaded'?

The Dalish and wolf statues go hand-in-hand (hand-in-paw?). All the way back to Origins we see depictions of wolves sitting outside Dalish camps, warning them that Fen'Harel is always lurking about to tempt them with Evil, or something. We also find these handsome beasts outside of and at the entrance to various elven temples and fortifications (see: Lost Temple of Dirthamen, Suledin Keep, etc.), as well as looming over the entire region in the Exalted Plains.

When asked about the ubiquity of wolf statues, David Gaider had this to say:

You have to remember that the Dalish honor Fen’Harel just as they do the rest of the elven pantheon — they simply do so differently. Statues/shrines to the other elven gods would be found within the clan’s camp, while a statue of Fen’Harel would be placed outside the camp, facing away. There’s no point in lugging around that statue with them if it wasn’t still a way of honoring him. Work backwards, and you’ll see a version of that in the Dales when the elves still ruled there. Monuments to Fen’Harel would still exist, and would be far more common outside of the settlements than within them. Or it was one of the placeables that the artists made for their “elven complement”, and they only had so many and thus had to use it often. Take your pick. :) EDIT: I should point out that the Dales regions were Sheryl Chee’s handiwork, and it’s entirely possible there’s a completely different lore reason for the wolf statues which has nothing to do with Fen’Harel (despite my assumption). If so, she’s the one who would know, and not I.

Okay, cool. So based on all of this information, which is documented on the DA wiki, I assumed that all of the wolf statues we see are depictions of Fen'Harel. But now I'm replaying DAI, and I got this codex entry (Knight's Guardian) in the Emerald Graves:

Traveling through the Emerald Graves in the Dales, one will see dozens of carven stone wolves. The Dalish call these the Knights’ Guardians. In the days of elven Halamshiral, wolf companions walked alongside Emerald Knights, never leaving the side of their chosen knight. Wolf and elf would fight together, eat together, and when the knights slept, wolves would guard them. The statues were erected in memory of their unbreakable bond. —An excerpt from In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi

Maybe Brother Genitivi is just wrong? It feels like a pretty specific thing to be wrong about, but codex entries are meant to be subjective. There is no obvious difference between the wolf statues in the Emerald Graves and the wolf statues anywhere else in Inquisition (maybe for technical reasons). So what is going on here?

Brother Genitivi is wrong; these are actually depictions of Fen'Harel

Gaider is wrong, as his edit allows; many of the wolf statues we find outside the Emerald Graves are actually depictions of Knight's Guardians

Both are sort of right; only the wolf statues in the Emerald Graves depict Knight's Guardians, the others depict Fen'Harel. Maybe the wolf statues in the Emerald Graves are supposed to have a different look, but don't due to technical/development reasons.

I think it's easy to forget that the elves have had two nations by the time of Inquisition: Arlathan, which we talk about more often in part because Solas, and the Dales. We know about how the current Dalish (and to some extent alienage) elves feel about Fen'Harel, but what about the original Dalish elves? The story of The Courser and the Wolf, as relayed by Merrill in DA2, is relatively recent, speaking of clans and Keepers. When did the Dalish turn their back on wolves? What did the original Dalish elves think about Fen'Harel and the other members of the elven pantheon?

When did all of the wolves become dreaded?

[girl4music]

“Well, if you don’t need explicitly canon, why don’t you like WLW ships like Supercorp? They’re not canon and they’re lead main characters in the show.”

Because I don’t like having my main meal be taken away from me and then just be given a dog bone to chew on instead as if that’s sufficient to my needs.

I would much prefer to have the three-courser meal.

Xena and Gabrielle may not be viewed as explicitly canon by everyone but they’re still an epic love story to me and the show doesn’t shy away from that. They heavily lean into it and they give you all that they can. They don’t suddenly go “Hey - here’s this other couple instead that aren’t as significant as these characters to the story but I’m sure you can make do with them.” when I never even asked for that in the first place!

Supercorp, to me, feels like the perfectly prepared three-courser meal. Everything is so delicately put together, all the ingredients in each serving compliment each other perfectly, and the meal looks appetizing as all get out. And then that three-courser meal immediately gets wheeled away and is replaced with a dog bone and maybe a bowl of kibble on the side. It’s not even meant for me to eat,… let alone would actually satisfy my appetite. I feel devalued.

Xena and Gabrielle, on the other hand, may not be the perfectly prepared meal with everything done right… there’s flaws, there’s things I wish wasn’t in there…

But least I actually get to eat the whole thing.

Least it will fill me up.

Least I feel catered to.

Sanvers is a good WLW/queer ship and I know many people love them. That’s great. But they had the right characters from the beginning. Why not use them?

I’ll tell you the reason why.

Because they didn’t want lead WLW/queer characters.

Why didn’t they want them?

Because heroes can’t be gay.

Because they’re homophobic.

And I have no interest debating this. This is how I feel. They gave us Sanvers to mollify us. Not represent us.

Supercorp is the true ship. Clearly. You cannot watch that show and not not see that they’re the true ship. And because you can see it that much with them, it’s aggravating to watch at all. So I don’t watch it. I know it would be right up my alley but I don’t watch it because I do not accept being queer-baited and then hoodwinked into thinking they actually care about me by giving me some random ass secondary WLW ship.

I know they don’t care at all. And that’s the end of it.

Wynonna Earp may have a secondary WLW/queer ship also, but it’s established from the get-go that it would be the main romance of the entire show and that the main lead character has no interest in women enough for anything like that secondary WLW/queer ship to come from it. It makes sense. And it’s done very well.

It’s not a “I’ll throw you a bone because you can’t have the three-courser meal”. It never was. Supergirl was. And even though Supergirl may be the show most notorious for doing this, it’s not the only one at all.

There’s a lot of shows and creators that need to do much fucking better when it comes to WLW/queer representation. That need to start making us equal. I want to be the hero. I want to be the main narrative. I want to be the lead protagonist - with warts and all.

And I don’t want to have to apologize for being queer just because it’s not the “big market” or “right target”.

In other words:

I just want to matter as much as the straights do.

And the only shows that have truly made me feel that way are ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’ and ‘Wynonna Earp’.

No, not everything is perfect but I know they care.

I know they will always care.

You go watch any behind-the-scenes featurette on Xena or Wynonna Earp with the cast/crew and then go watch one for Supergirl or Supernatural. You’ll see it.

Colossal fucking difference!

Yeah, I’m angry and I won’t hide it because I shouldn’t have to. My anger is valid because it’s really not right.

They need to do better. Everybody needs to do better.

[ladyhoneydee]

Icebreakers

Zelink | Modern BotW AU | 5.5k

“It’s…Zelda, right?” he asked hesitantly. “Zelda Bos…Bosso…” He couldn’t remember her last name. He’d only heard it once before, at the summer neighborhood cookout, when the older lady two doors down warned him to steer clear of the eccentric robotics engineer who lived at the end of the cul-de-sac. At the time, Link—never a social butterfly with new people anyway—had shrugged and taken the neighbor’s advice. “Bosphoramus,” she supplied. “You’re Link Firly, yes?” “Yes,” he breathed, and shook her hand. It was warm. …He tried not to think too hard about that.

Or, Link is terrible at shoveling his driveway in the winter, and Zelda invites herself over to give him a hand. Or many hands. Guardians have a lot of limbs, after all!

Written for Day 18 of @zelinktines24, "Ice"! Read it on AO3 or under the cut!

Link jammed the ice pick down into the same lump of frozen sludge for what felt like the thousandth time and sighed.

He liked winter. The trees snow-dusted, as if the goddesses had visited with a bag of powdered sugar; the ice on the creeks and lakes thick enough that he could frolic on their frozen surfaces or even drill down to fish for a chillfin trout or hearty salmon for supper; the skiing and snowshoeing trips through the woods with an eye out for any squirrels, white pigeons, or trilling red sparrows accompanying him in the underbrush. 

The winter chores? Not so much. 

He’d put off shoveling the day before. A thick blanket of snow had come down overnight, settling on his car’s hood and the expanse of his driveway, but the way it sparkled under the late morning sunlight had been so inviting…Link couldn’t bring himself to shovel on such a beautiful day. Instead, he’d escaped to the hoarfrosted forest in the morning and spent the evening grinding through a few levels of his most recent video game purchase. He’d fallen asleep on the couch and woke up with a dry, gummy mouth, and an inexplicable feeling of weighty dread, like a grizzlemaw bear had hunkered down in his stomach. 

The dread explained itself when he glanced up from the screen of his half-dead sheikah slate and caught a bleary-eyed glance at his front walk while waiting for the kettle: yesterday’s snow had turned into today’s ice.

He had spilled his tea slipping on a patch of ice on his front step, gotten snow down his boots while clearing his car, and had to shovel around the car twice after realizing he hadn’t cleaned off its roof beforehand. And from there, it only got worse: shoveling was hard, irritating work that only got colder the longer he suffered. He had tried his best with the driveway—really!—but it was difficult to shovel in the long, efficient lines a friend had once suggested. He’d take what seemed like a decently-sized stripe, only for the snow to overflow off his shovel and muck up the lines he’d so painstakingly cleared. He’d do a teeny little stripe and look despairingly at the expanse of driveway he had remaining. He’d carry along for a nice little stretch, only for his rhythm to be messed up by his shovel stuttering over a patch of ice. 

A few passes across the driveway found the shovel standing upright in a snowbank and Link examining a particularly jagged icicle dangling from the roof. When he finally tore himself away from the icicle, his tongue stinging fiercer than a courser honey bee, he gave ice picking a try…only to find it even more tedious.

A big chop against a pesky chunk of ice would go smash. A series of quick downwards thrusts to break lines into the ice, making it easier to remove, sounded like chnkchnkchnk. Scraaaape went the metal head of his pick against the asphalt when he tried to push along pulverized ice. And skk was the worst noise of all, the skitter of his pick along the ground when he missed a direct hit. The lack of resistance made him lose his balance every time.

Smash. Smash. Scrape. Chnkchnkchnk. Grunt. Scraaape. Toss head to get hair out of face. Smash. Smash. Toss head. Consider chopping off hair with kitchen scissors. Smash-scraaape. Repeat.

Skk-chnk. “Argh!” He thrust the offending pick away, and it clattered onto a patch of ice he hadn’t yet gotten to. 

…One of the many patches of ice he hadn’t yet gotten to.

Surely anyone would agree this was hopeless. Surely his nosy neighbors wouldn’t judge him for throwing up his hands in defeat and hibernating in his warm cozy house until spring came and cleared the ice for him.

He stared blankly at the nicely-plowed road just beyond his driveway as he tied his hair back in a messy ponytail. It looked so peaceful. So reasonable. The snow a mere whisper on the salt-bleached pavement. Would his driveway look like that if he’d been responsible the day before?

Then the apocalypse began skittering up the street, and Link wasn’t so envious of it anymore.

It came with a metallic scraping against asphalt, and the rhythmic clunking of a hatch left open somewhere, and a mechanical whirring he swore he’d heard in his nightmares. It came with white and brown paneling, and a single eye lit with an unnatural blue that reflected off the snowbank and into his retinas. It came with far too many legs—he did not even want to count how many legs the thing had. And it came with a fluffy bundle, shaded in white and gold, perched atop its overturned-flowerpot-shaped head.

Please keep going. Please keep going. Please keep going. 

The thing skittered treacherously into his driveway. 

Turn around. Turn around!

It settled to a lurching, clanking halt only feet before him. 

Link took an automatic step back, his eyes darting anxiously over its shining bulk. The thing was far too large for comfort. Its central body was compact, its diameter comparable to his old beloved MasterCycle, but its—leg span? arm span?—turned the thing into a hulking monstrosity. With it so close, Link couldn’t tear his stare from that glowing eye: surely it was the center of all malevolence. 

“Hello, neighbor!”

In his nervousness, he’d forgotten all about the bundle of white and gold. Their—for now he knew it was a person—voice was clear, and seemed very self-possessed. Still, he could not raise his gaze. 

“Oh, is the eye bothering you? It doesn’t shoot lasers, I promise.” 

Link wasn’t sure if he should be reassured by this comment, or be concerned about its specificity. This inner conflict was immediately concluded when the voice followed up, very quietly, with something that he was fairly sure they hadn’t meant for them to hear: “Since I don’t have that functionality up yet…”

“H-heh, why would it bother me…” Link managed. “I’ve never seen anything look more friendly and harmless.”

“I agree!” the voice said perkily. “...wait. That was sarcasm, wasn’t it.” They sounded disappointed. 

“It’s my defense mechanism.”

“Fair enough.” Link’s ears perked up at a new noise—the slide of fabric over metal. Then the thump of boots hitting the snow. The glaring eye of the apocalypse went dark a moment later.

A hand thrust itself into his field of vision: gloved in dark brown, accented in gold, fingers outstretched confidently. At last, Link looked up. 

The gold and white bundle was indeed a person, and indeed even more gold and white than he had glimpsed from afar, with long blond hair and fair skin painted rosy by the cold. And, to his surprise, he knew her. 

“It’s…Zelda, right?” he asked hesitantly. “Zelda Bos…Bosso…” He couldn’t remember her last name. He’d only heard it once before, at the summer neighborhood cookout, when the older lady two doors down warned him to steer clear of the eccentric robotics engineer who lived at the end of the cul-de-sac. At the time, Link—never a social butterfly with new people anyway—had shrugged and taken the neighbor’s advice.

“Bosphoramus,” she supplied. “You’re Link Firly, yes?”

“Yes,” he breathed, and shook her hand. 

It was warm.

…He tried not to think too hard about that.

“You can put your pick down now, Link Firly.”

Link glanced down to see that he was, in fact, clutching his ice pick in his left hand, as if ready to fend off Zelda’s mechanical monstrosity. He flushed and let the pick drop onto the ice beside him once again.

“We met at the neighborhood barbeque, didn’t we? On the summer solstice?” 

“We did indeed,” Zelda confirmed. “You brought that delicious soup.” 

“Huh. I hadn’t thought anyone liked the soup.” It had disappointed him at the time, honestly; the recipe was his grandmother’s and a nostalgic favorite he’d been positive would be a hit, but the pot he brought back home at the end of the night was almost as full as it had been when he’d left. 

“No one likes soup.” When Link’s face fell, Zelda lost her cool for a moment, waving her hands in the air. “Ah, I mean, no one likes soup in the summer! It’s too warming, you know? And there’s just no comparison when Daruk’s brisket was right there. You have to admit that the guy knows how to roast—even if he originally learned for rocks rather than meat.”

“True enough,” he said, a little sulkily. 

“If…if it helps, your soup was the best I’ve ever tasted.” Zelda bit her lip, and Link realized she was nervous. He couldn’t help but smile reassuringly. 

“That does help, actually. I’m glad you liked it.”

Although he certainly couldn’t make out tension in her shoulders under her heavy woolen coat, Link thought he saw her relax. He breathed his own little sigh of relief.

Neither spoke for a moment. Zelda’s gaze drifted back along his mess of a driveway, and Link kicked embarrassedly at a patch of snow. Eventually, when the silence had stretched to an unbearable length—thirty whole seconds! That was way too long, right?—he took the plunge.

“So…what’s with the spider?”

Zelda’s brows creased. “Spider? What spider?” When he gestured towards the thing behind her, he could practically see the lightbulb flicker on over her head. “Ah! That would be Terrako. I call him a Guardian.”

“Does he…guard…you?” Link could just picture that portable apocalypse patrolling around Zelda’s little one-story, shooting off the aforementioned lasers at attempted robbers and neighborhood pranksters. 

“Of course not! He’d hardly have any use if that were the case.”

“Ahaha…right, of course not,” he mumbled. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that the machine wasn’t intended for violence, or slightly disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to see something like that in action. 

“Terrako’s use is far more practical,” she continued, as if Link hadn’t spoken. “He is a guardian against bodily wear and tear.”

“Like…repetitive motion?”

“Exactly!” Zelda’s face lit up just from that slight engagement with her work, and Link had to wonder if she was this passionate at all times, or if she just didn’t get much of a chance to talk about it. Given the neighbor’s warning, he guessed it might be the latter, which was…a little sad. Zelda did seem a bit eccentric, but harmless, and certainly very interesting.

“So you and Terrako are here because…?” Link trailed off expectantly. He certainly didn’t mind conversing with her—especially now that he knew Terrako wasn’t going to eviscerate him—but he was curious why she had taken the Guardian for a walk to his house, of all places. 

“To put it bluntly—”

Well, that was a bit worrisome, if her demeanor to this point wasn’t considered blunt.

“—I noticed that yours was the only property on our street who had yet to clear their driveway, and when I observed you doing so this morning, I saw that you are quite awful at it.”

Link’s jaw dropped and hung stupidly for a moment, before he snapped it shut with teeth-clicking velocity.

“Basically, I came to help you.”

Emotions whirled within Link like a winter storm. Embarrassment at being rightfully called out for his lack of skill warred with his gratitude to a neighbor who—despite doing so in a vaguely insulting manner—had gone out of her way to help him out. 

“I…don’t know what to say,” he replied honestly. “I only have the one shovel and ice pick. I guess we could trade off tasks…”

Zelda wrinkled her nose immediately. “No, no. I will not be manually shoveling your driveway.”

“Then…?”

“Terrako will do it, of course. I’ll just need a moment to program him for this task.”

“Wait, what?”

“It would be helpful if he could borrow your shovel and pick, of course, although he should be capable without the use of additional tools.”

“Borrow my—huh?”

Zelda fixed him with a contemplative stare, as if reevaluating her decision to help her confused mess of a neighbor. “Do I need to rephrase anything for you to understand me better?”

“I, ah, I mean…no.” He understood her words all right, just didn’t understand why. But he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth…or gift Guardian in the eye. “I’ll go grab my shovel, I guess!”

“Excellent!” Zelda looked both pleased and almost surprised, as if she hadn’t truly expected him to agree. The gleam in her green eyes was…well, honestly, a bit suspicious. Link’s mouth curled up into an uncertain grin in reply before he ambled over to his abandoned shovel.

When he returned, shovel and pick in hand, he found Zelda crouched down in the snow beside Terrako. A sheet of the brown-and-ivory siding of the main body gaped open, exposing the control panel within. Link peeked over Zelda’s shoulder curiously. Even with the neat, careful labeling of each wire, circuit board, chip, lever, and button that he could see, his head still spun trying to comprehend the sheer complexity of the machine. Of just this part of the machine!

“You must be a genius or something!” he blurted out. “To build a robot like this, and it actually work, and everything, I mean.” 

Zelda continued flipping switches and typing commands into the slate-sized screen embedded into the center of the control panel. “Hardly. I think anyone could accomplish such a thing if they had the proper training.”

“Really…? I mean, some people just have a head for different skills, right? Different intelligences?” 

“Perhaps,” she allowed, and gave a final, decisive press to a command in the top-right corner of the slate screen: Go. The dull indigo of the icon immediately blinked bright blue, the same shade Terrako’s eye had glowed. She shut the panel with gentle hands before turning back towards Link. “Although I think almost anyone can follow a list of directions.”

Link held out a hand, and to his surprise, she took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. “Surely it’s more than a list of directions, though?”

“I suppose there is some independent design work and troubleshooting involved,” Zelda surrendered with an amused smile. 

Link realized, suddenly, that he was still holding her hand—or was she holding his? Regardless, the worn chocolate leather of her glove rested atop his heavy-duty black ski mitten with a weight he found to be alarmingly comfortable. He felt his cheeks flush in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. 

Perhaps Zelda had noticed it too, or felt the instinctive twitch his hand had given at his realization, for she pulled her hand back to let it dangle casually at her side. His lingered in the air for a moment longer before he hurriedly retracted it as well. 

“So, ah, what happens next?” Link looked past her at Terrako. The Guardian had awoken, its form straightening up and its eye burning blue once more. He stifled a shudder.

“Now you give him your pick and shovel,” she stated baldly, as if it were obvious.

“Just—just like that?”

“Indeed. Just like that.”

Brow furrowed with consternation and a bit of disbelief, Link tentatively held out the two handles. The tools seemed tiny in comparison to the Guardian’s massive size. He almost leapt back in shock when two of its (many, many) legs jolted to life, shooting out and grasping the tools in the prehensile clamps of its feet. 

“Whoa!”

The gleam had returned to Zelda’s eyes, and this time he could see it was tempered with pride. “Good boy,” she told Terrako. 

“Can…can he understand you?” Link almost wouldn’t be surprised if the Guardian could, after what he’d just experienced. 

“Of course not,” she said dismissively. “He’s just following the directions I programmed.”

“Oh. That makes sense—”

“I just like to tell him that he’s a good boy.” She sounded like someone talking about a beloved dog, and Link fought off an amused grin. “Anyway, you should probably get out of the way now.”

He stiffened. “What?”

“You’re in the way of his sensors, and he’s programmed to complete a task. There’s a slight chance of, ah, bodily removal.”

Link had never moved so fast in his life. 

By the time Zelda joined him at his front step, she was snorting with laughter. “You should see your face! I don’t think even Terrako could run so quickly!”

“I’m just not a fan of bodily removal,” Link said, pouting despite himself. “Anyway, do you…want to come in? He won’t be done right away, will he?”

“No, by the size of your driveway…” Zelda pursed her lips in thought. “I estimate he’ll need at least fifteen minutes. Perhaps twenty-five. So…yes, I’d be glad to come in out of the cold for that time.” She grinned toothily for the first time, and Link felt his heart skip a beat. “I’d say a hot chocolate would be a fair payment for my and Terrako’s service.”

“S-sure! I’d be happy to get you one.” Link fumbled for the doorknob and swung it open wide. Warmth—blessed warmth—spilled out of the open doorway. “After you, Zelda.”

--

“So what is it that you do, Link?”

Link projected his voice a little louder than normal so that Zelda, seated at his kitchen table, could hear his words without him having to turn his gaze away from the stove. “I work at Howl.”

“Haven’t heard of it.”

“Oh, it’s an outdoor outfitter. I’m basically, heh, glorified retail.” 

Zelda hummed sympathetically. 

“It’s definitely not all bad, though! I really like outdoorsy stuff, and I get to lead people on skiing and snowshoeing expeditions about once a day.” 

“Does that mean that you have to know how to not die while using skis?” 

Link laughed. “Yeah, or at least, no one has told me yet that I have died while using them, so I’m a convincing ghost if nothing else.”

“I would probably die if I tried,” Zelda said. Intriguingly, it seemed like she was seriously contemplating the scenario and its outcome, rather than her comment being the kind of lighthearted, self-deprecating ones he heard all the time at work and from acquaintances. 

“Aw, come on, even if I was your guide?” he joked.

“Especially if you were my guide.”

Link waited for an elaboration. None was forthcoming.

He realized, suddenly, that the milk had gone over its intended mild simmer and was approaching a boil. Snatching up the handle of the saucepan to hold it up off the heat, he scrambled for the burner dial with his other hand. After a moment, he set the saucepan back down on the lowered flame, only to lift it up again when the milk surged back to its near-boil. 

Zelda must have seen the expression on his face, because he heard her giggle off to the side. “This is a rather, ah, demanding hot chocolate method.”

“Why yes, the secret ingredient is despair.”

“How experimental! Remind me why you’re not a professional chef?”

“The culinary schools just wouldn’t accept me because they knew I was advanced beyond their curricula, but alas, the fine dining institutions won’t hire me without a culinary degree. I am a victim of bureaucracy.”

Zelda wheezed with laughter, and Link risked a glance away from the milk in order to peek. The way her nose scrunched up and her eyes squinched almost completely closed when she laughed was... 

He turned back to the burner and unceremoniously dumped in his favorite dark chocolate cocoa mix, feeling heat in his cheeks that had little to do with the steam rising from the stovetop. Under his watchful eye and careful whisk, the milk and mix combined into a gloriously warm, rich, and mouthwatering brown, and he poured the contents of the saucepan into two large mugs. 

“And you?” he asked. “What do you do?”

“Robotics.” 

Link laughed at the bluntness of her answer before he realized that she wouldn’t be following up this answer with additional explanations, either. “I mean, yeah, I can tell! But do you have a degree, are you getting one…?” He took the seat opposite her at the kitchen table and slid her mug across. 

“Oh! Indeed, I just began my final semester of my Robotics PhD program at the Hateno Institute of Technology. Terrako is my thesis, as it were.” She lowered her voice, and Link instinctively leaned closer across the table. “To be honest, I began him as a personal project long before the thesis stage, but fortunately the proposal committee didn’t know that when they approved me.”

“Smart and sneaky!” Link teased. “Is Terrako ‘that terrible, noisy project she’s been working on in her garage for four years and is definitely against the law and we’ll be blessed if it doesn’t burn the entire neighborhood down one of these days’ that I’ve heard about from various members of the Homeowners Association, then?”

Zelda grimaced. “The HOA never wants anyone to have nice things. Can’t paint your front door turquoise, can’t put your trash out more than 24 hours before the collectors come, can’t build an eight foot tall fully automated and intelligent robot in your garage…” 

“They’ve nailed me for the trash thing, too. And not having proper landscaping. Why is it not acceptable to reseed the lawn with native grasses and let it grow to its proper length? I’m doing the neighborhood a service, given how pollination has improved around here.” 

“Funny, they reached out to me about improper landscaping as well. That was…” She trailed off, remembering, then scrunched up her eyebrows. “Well, I was still developing Terrako’s skill set at that time, after all,” she sniffed. “They shouldn’t have expected perfection from him.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate, and her eyes went wide. “Nayru, this is fantastic! What did you do?”

“Nothing really,” Link replied bashfully. “Real milk and doing it on the stovetop goes a long way. And I use a really good mix, straight from a small producer in Faron.”

“Please text me a link to it, because this is delicious.” Zelda took another sip and closed her eyes appreciatively.

Link blinked. “I, um…I don’t have your number.”

Eyes still closed, Zelda waved nonchalantly in the direction of her slate, which she’d set beside her on the table. “Passcode is 16643. Go ahead and add yourself to my compendium.” 

Obediently, he picked up her slate and navigated to her compendium, although he shot her a hesitant look. “You sure? I could just pull up their website in your browser for you.”

“Thank you, but no. I’ll need your contact information in order to reach out about doing this again regardless, so we might as well maximize efficiency and do it now.”

Link’s fingers froze over the screen where he’d been typing Link Firly (shovel/soup guy) into the new compendium entry. “You want to do this again?”

“Well, obviously.” 

Obviously? 

“You clearly need assistance with your driveway—”

Ouch. 

“—the task itself is perfect for training Terrako, which will dramatically improve his performance and my eventual committee review—”

Well, that was fair enough, and he would be more than happy to help—

“—and I find I quite enjoy your company, Link Firly. I would certainly not be opposed to engaging with you more often.”

Sweet Din, did she just say that?!

Link’s mind fritzed out, staticky with pleased surprise. He wondered absently if Zelda’s skill with technology could transfer to the error message in his brain.

“Assuming, that is, that you feel the same?” 

The tone of Zelda’s voice hadn’t changed—still posh and friendly and commanding all at once—but he noticed with a start that her knuckles had paled where they wrapped around her mug. Was she…nervous?

He rushed to assuage her worries. “Yes! Sorry, yes. I was just…thinking. But I would love to hang out!”

The same pleased, surprised smile she’d given him earlier when he agreed to let Terrako clear his driveway leapt to her face. His heart beat faster at the sight.

“Zelda, I think you’re really—”

SCCRREEEECHKKNKNHNHNNHHH!!

Link just about jumped out of his skin. The horrendous scraping of metal on cement had come from outside—from his driveway. Alarmed, he turned to Zelda, and found her eyes just as wide as his own. 

Abruptly, she sprang to her feet. “Terrako!”

Link stood up quickly, but she was a blur, impossible to keep pace with as she dashed to the door with the speed and grace of a mountain doe. “Wait, you forgot your—”

The door slammed. 

“Coat,” he finished weakly. He stared down at the white and gold bundle in his outstretched arms, then at Zelda’s nearly-empty mug of hot chocolate. 

And smiled.

--

When he made it outside, still clutching Zelda’s coat, he found that the driveway had undergone an utter transformation. Every inch was clear of snow, and even the most stubborn patches of ice had been chopped and swept cleanly off into the yard on either side. There was also a mildly deep gouge marring its exact center, right where the worst patch of ice had once been. The ice pick and shovel laid discarded in the yard.

He blinked. First at the gravelly wound in his driveway, and then at Zelda, although all he could see of her were her knee-high boots sticking out from beneath Terrako’s lifeless form. The white shearling and caramel leather stood out against the spotless grey pavement. 

“Everything okay over here?” He approached the Guardian cautiously, ducking beneath an errant leg frozen in midair. Sure, Terrako was off right now, but if he had the power to do that to his driveway…

“Certainly.” Zelda’s muffled voice echoed from beneath Terrako’s chassis. One boot began to waggle in a way Link automatically registered as anxiety.

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure?”

A metallic sigh. “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed.” Zelda began to shimmy her way back out from under Terrako, and he watched her black leggings, turquoise thermal shirt, tangled golden hair, and finally her face slowly inch into view. “There’s nothing wrong with his physical mechanisms, fortunately. It seems that I left one of his ventilation hatches open, and the cold air made his internal fluids heat up dramatically to compensate, which of course led to the wires near them overheating as well.”

“Of course,” Link echoed. “And that made him malfunction…?”

“Indeed.” She tapped a bare, cold-reddened finger against the opposite palm along with her words. “The high internal temperatures resulted in errors in the thermal, visual, and tactile sensors in his feet and body.” Two fingers. “They reported incorrect readings, therefore, to the central operational mechanism.” Three fingers. “Acting in occurrence with the false readings, the command center, which had been programmed to clear all ice using force proportional to its thickness, gave the command to scrape very hard.” She gave Link a tight, chagrined smile. “And thus your driveway became his victim.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you figured all that out so quickly.” His gaze settled again on her rosy fingers, and immediately he thrust out the white and gold bundle. “Ah, here. Looks like you might need this.”

“Oh!” Her expression softened into something more genuine. “Thank you very much.” She had her coat on in short order, buttoning up the center and the collar piece with fingers that were nimble despite the cold, and securely tying the brown leather belt around her waist. 

He watched until she had pulled both chocolate leather gloves over her hands, and then, satisfied, continued. “It’s okay, also! I don’t mind that he messed up my driveway—it’s just asphalt.”

Zelda blinked for a moment, her eyebrows pushing together like kissing caterpillars. Then green eyes lit up with recognition—followed, strangely, with an almost bashful pouting of her lips that made Link want to—

Nothing. He wanted to nothing. 

Yet, anyway. 

“Erm,” she said eloquently. “I wasn’t. Actually. Thinking about your driveway when I said I was disappointed. I was. Um. Irritated at what this meant for Terrako’s performance records.”

She was taller than him. How was she able to look up through her eyelashes like that when she was taller than him? That was downright unfair. 

“Oh.” It was all he could think to say, distracted as he was by dark feathery ferns framing emerald pools. 

“I certainly do apologize for the damage done to your driveway!” she burst out, clearly misinterpreting the cause of his wordlessness. “It was unintentional, but I am the party at fault, and I will take responsibility for my actions.” 

“It’s alright,” he replied. “The rut isn’t that deep. Won’t mess with Epona any.”

“Epona?”

“Um. My car.”

She grinned. “No wonder you didn’t bat an eye at my naming Terrako. We would seem to be two peas in a pod, Link Firly.”

“I’m shocked that you used a nature metaphor rather than a mechanical one,” he replied, surprised by his own boldness. “Not two screws in a…” He didn’t know any machine words. Dammit. “Gear?”

Her laugh rang out over the snow. “Two loose screws, maybe.” Her expression sobered. “I certainly could have been more attentive. That ventilation hatch was open when I arrived regardless of my focus, but honestly—” The pout returned full force. “—I was too distracted by you to do my full checks!”

“M-me?”

“Yes, you! With that scraggly ponytail and smile and that thing you do when you’re embarrassed and you scratch the back of your head—yes, that! No one with such helpless puppy energy should be that cute!”

Link’s hand froze in his hair. “You think I’m cute?”

“Obviously,” Zelda sniffed. “Much like Terrako, I do have visual sensors that are quite adept at taking readings.”

Link tried not to think about the potential of her thermal and tactile sensors taking readings as well. It was a valiant battle. He lost.

Zelda looked at him, and he looked back, meeting her gaze dead-on. There was the slightest of flushes blooming in her cheeks and the tips of her ears, but her face was set with determination and self-assurance. Darkness streaked the right side of her jaw.

“You have a little…” He reached out, at once ginger and intrepid, his hand moving towards her slowly enough that she could see it coming and move out of his way or stop him if she didn’t want him to touch her. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, but she stayed utterly still as his fingers grazed, pressed, traced firmly up her jaw. They lingered for a breathless moment right beneath where her jaw ended and ear began. Then, slowly, he pulled away.

Only the slightest smear of black remained on her cheek, with most of the gummy substance safely collected on his fingers. He flashed them towards Zelda for her to see.

“Ah, grease. Mechanic’s contouring.” Despite her nonchalant words, Zelda’s voice was light and wispy, like dandelion puffs blowing in the wind. Her hand rose to her jawline and hovered there.

He could’ve told her she was smart and confident and beautiful, and that he liked her bluntness and her preoccupation with her robot and also just her. But there was something else he could say to her that, if his hunch about her personality was correct, would do a far better job of conveying his feelings.

“Don’t worry, Zelda.” He smiled. Her name on his tongue was lemon zest and the whole sweetness of honey. “There will be plenty more snow and ice this winter for Terrako to improve his performance on. Plus, you’ll be able to teach him how to repair asphalt come spring, for portfolio diversity.”

Zelda’s eyes glowed, and he knew he’d gotten it right. “I’ll see you next time it snows, then.”

“Or before that.” He flushed despite himself.

“Or before that.” Her smiling eyes held his for a moment that shimmered like freshly-fallen snow under the light of the sun, before she turned to Terrako and the gaping control hatch on his side. Those expert fingers danced once more across the keypad and screen, and the robot straightened, its singular blue eye flashing back on to full power.

Link didn’t think he’d ever get used to that…but he was certainly willing to try.

“You know, now that I think about it,” he said, the tiniest lilting hint of teasing entering his voice, “I thought I’d heard something like a hatch clanking around when you came up the street.”

Zelda paused halfway up Terrako’s side, hanging from well-camouflaged ladder rungs he never would have noticed were he not so close and so attentive to the woman climbing them. “You ruffian! You should have told me!”

He stuck his tongue out. “Hey, I’m just a simple retail guy, what do I know about big fancy robots and the noises they make?”

“About robots? Not much, I imagine.” Zelda settled in upon Terrako’s head, and beamed down at him. “But you’re going to.”

The apocalypse with its waving white and gold bundle scuttled back down the street towards the cul-de-sac it called home, and Link watched it go, heart pounding in his throat for a completely new reason. 

How strange and lovely it was to hope for its swift return.

[slocumjoe]

Adding +1 to yer horny jail, what about companions in bed? How many of them are savage? Who's the gentlest?

Rank time!

Assuming this is for basic sex, with nothing being asked. Just what they do naturally.

Nick; Most careful and delicate when handling Sole. Again, the hands need to be worked around, and the tongue is barely functional for sex. If he were fleshy, he'd dapple in some roughness, but still remain gentlemanly. As it stands, he's old, and moving too enthusiastically makes him creak in a somewhat threatening manner.

Curie; She's open to roughness, but Curie prefers sweet stuff. And she has no natural inclination to any sort of sadism. Curie isn't going to be bruising you unless you ask. Even then, she won't take any enjoyment from it. More like guilt.

Preston; Preston is vanilla. He doesn't need anything to get off beyond his partner. Also, just a chill guy, temperament wise. Sex with Preston is probably a somewhat lazy, sloppy affair. But...he can go for hours. Which, after a while...

Piper; If her partner is kinky, Piper is kinky. If her partner wants it rough, Piper is rough. But she's a refined, regal kind of rough. Like...the rough a duchess whose swept you away from the debutante ball and into her quarters. Just...make of that what you will.

Deacon; Similar to Piper, with the addition of being open to roleplay. Where as Piper doesn't chase wildest her fantasies, Deacon lives in fantasy land. Ignoring that its a trauma response, whatever you want to do, Deacon will make it happen. Would renovate an entire hospital if you wanted doctor/patient sex. He commits to his bits, dammit. And if the bit of the week involves some dirty deeds...they will be done dirt cheap.

MacCready; He's 22. He's going to be a little too exuberant without trying. He's certainly eager. But if he's bottoming/being submissive, you can go to fucking town on this dude. Mac is better at taking roughness than he is dishing.

X6-88; An interesting case. X6-88 wouldn't mean to be rough, its just that courser physical sensations and human physical sensations are different. He just doesn't realize it's a little much. Also, his natural form of movement is sharp, quick, and it comes off as rough.

Danse; Normally, submissive, gentle, doesn't want to displease Sole in any way...but when he's more comfortable with them, and with sex itself, when he wants to get rough...nothing to sneeze at. Similar to MacCready, prefers Sole getting harsh with him, because, y'know, bottom...but either way, Danse likes his rough sex "better than a training exercise."

Gage; Like Danse, getchu a man who can do you both. One hand, he's old, and kind of a mellow guy. Totally down for lazy quickies or whatever, just to blow off steam. But the moment shit gets heated, Gage gets fired up, and Sole is gonna have some marks later.

Hancock; If you think Hancock isn't a horndog...have you met him? Hancock being gentle is out of the ordinary, the thing Sole has to request. Otherwise, full steam ahead. Its loud, its messy, it probably involves the knife to some capacity.

Cait; I don't think I need to explain this. But I will. Horny. Top. Naturally aggressive. Prone to sadism. And she needs no kinks to bruise you up or make you cry. Will take it as a personal challenge if you so you can handle it. Wins. She ain't no loser. Strap on game so good its capable of conception.

[fuzzydreamin]

Thoughts on Liam Binet/Patriot

Reminder for who he is: He's the 'kid' (young adult) in the Institute who helps free synths by creating false work orders to send them up to the surface.

His father created Gen 3 synths as they are today, and since the death of his mother his father took to having a 'personal synth' named Eve to take her place - though he claims it's not to replace her but as a test of what a synth can do when put in that situation. Still seems... weird. Eve is okay with her position, and claims to love Liam as a mother, but… still…

His dad taught him right with the whole ‘science should never be dispassionate’ thing, and his dad’s leanings towards synths being thinking, feeling people, as half-baked as his constitution towards those thoughts are (again considering the Eve thing and that he still turns a blind eye to their slavery) were likely a big contributor to Liam helping synths escape. But then we get to Liam actually helping the synths and...

I feel he gets too much credit.

Now I don’t mean to downplay the role he did play. Liam did a hell of a lot of good for a lot of synths. Without him they would have had a much harder time escaping. But we also know that synths had been escaping before Liam started helping out with the cause.

Per the Railroad Terminal entries we can see that Liam has been helping synths for about 5 years or so, but we know that they've been escaping for over 10 years as of Fo4. 

In Fo3 we know that it's not entirely uncommon already, with Harkness explaining how he was a courser (one of the first) designed to capture his own kind, and Danse has been in the brotherhood for over ten years as of Fo4 since he recalls the events of Broken Steel, commenting on a paladin (his own sponsor, Krieg) who died at the airforce base shortly after he was made Paladin (thus revealing Danse was already a Paladin during the events of Fo3).

So Liam has only been helping to free synths for less than half of the amount of time that they have been escaping the Institute. Essentially: he’s boosted their success/numbers but they didn’t need him.

But here's the thing: Liam himself admits that he only started freeing synths as a personal test of his hacking skills - just to see if he could. He didn’t do it because he cared about synths and their freedom, he did it to prove a point to himself that he thinks he’s better than the SRB. He’s showing his ego, and it’s a continuous thing. Not to say having ego at all is wrong, doing good is still good even if you do it to feel good. Net gains and all. But you can see his ego about this in his dialogue choices too, the way he proudly explains to you how he did it, smug about his own cleverness, and yet he then has comments about Tinker Tom breaking the cypher and the possibility of the SRB doing the same shows that maybe he isn’t as clever as he thinks - and it may have just been a matter of time before the SRB did just that, you just got to it first by luck.

(Another dumb in-game thing is how the ‘Plugging A Leak’ quest plays out - it’s pretty obvious after only checking a few terminals that Liam is the guilty party, but the quest keeps pushing you towards his dad for their own storytelling purposes.)

Now, while Liam claims to worry about the synths' well-being on the surface world and even asking you in your very first conversation with him what it's like up there, it seems that the freedom of synths is still a secondary feature of the whole thing to him. Even in the current day when you meet him, he isn't interested in methods that actually free as many synths as possible, just a large enough number to satisfy himself and let him feel like he has done something.

He’ll go through the systems and unlock some doors for you, still looking to feed his ego as some great hacker as he praises himself all the while, but if you kill a few of the Institute’s people in your pursuit to rescue many other people he turns on you. Showing he still values the comfort of the Institute scientists over the freedom of a sentient race.

And if you succeed in putting a stop to the Institute with the Railroad (and I have more than a few issues with the way the game handles you dealing with the Institute as a whole, but that's not for this post) he will commit suicide and name you in his letter as the cause. And he starts off this letter by once again letting his ego shine.

“You betrayed me. ME! After all I did for you. I trusted you. I risked everything to help synths. To help you. And this? This is how you repay me?

My father is dead. Everyone I loved and cared about was vaporized or lost in this barren irradiated shithole. Because of you.

I used to feel sorry for you. You lost your son. You missed out on every moment of his life. Now, I see it's only what you deserved.

I cannot live with myself. Due to my stupid trust in you I've destroyed humanity's best hope for the future. If there's any fairness in the world you'll never get a good night's sleep in what remains of your hopefully short, miserable life.”

Not to be insensitive to Liam, these were people he knew, everything he grew up knowing - but this was a war on literal slavery, and there was literally only one way this could have played out. The other is the one that gets him kicked out of his home and stops any synths at all being freed. What did he expect? That you’d take over and just let him trickle out a few synths every now and then? Even as the head director, the other directors would never have allowed it if it was an option. You were always going to have to fight for it. Even if Bethesda’s narrative was different, there would have always been casualties to freeing the synths.

Those people could have raised their hands in defeat and left with their lives. Unless you are going in with the Brotherhood it’s highly unlikely that the majority of people in the Institute wouldn’t be allowed to leave. They’d be considered a threat still, but much less of one without all their tech. And while it might not be fair to say that they shouldn't fight for their home, but if they did that was their choice, and not on the player for fighting to free slaves. 

Right to the end Liam is an egocentric know-it-all, too convinced of his own genius, who still drinks the kool-aid of the Institute being ‘humanity's best hope’ (the truth of this statement is again something for another rant) despite the obvious flaws. 

In the end it comes off that he would have been happy to continue to let the Institute create and abuse synths, so long as he could pat himself on the back for assisting a very minor amount in gaining freedom by using his great big hacker brain. He wants to feel like he’s doing good without actually commiting to it. Because doing that would risk shaking up his own comfy life. 

So no, while I do admit that Liam no doubt helped a lot of synths those past few years, I don’t think he’s as much of a hero as the Railroad touts upon his death. And my biggest issue of it all comes down to the hero that gets ignored in his place, while everyone is crying about Liam and singing his praises.

To me, the real hero of the act here is Z1-14.

I mean, just from a narrative standpoint alone it’s a better bit: He's a synth actively working from inside to help free his own people, at a much greater cost than Liam; the cost of his own chance at freedom or even a continued existence within the Institute if he’s caught. He doesn’t have the Railroad backing him up either, because he is staying inside to help from that end. 

Terminal entries let us know that he's been kicking around for about 50-60 years. He's probably been the single most helpful person to freeing synths since gen 3 synths were first invented. And he could have gotten free at any point since he had the access to Liam and whatever other methods they used to get out before Liam started helping. 

He claims to have never met another human willing to help before Liam. Maybe because none really did ever want to help. Maybe because he couldn’t trust them enough to approach them and find out for sure. Because again, he is risking everything. 

If Liam is caught he is sent to live out the rest of his days on the surface - this is the worst punishment that the Institute can think of, perhaps besides killing someone to keep them from sharing the Institute's secrets. But even then some might find death preferable. They’ve been raised on stories about how terrible the outside world is and how being up there would surely only lead to suffering and a slow and painful death. So sure, to someone from the Institute that’s a scary thought, but being kicked out still means they are alive, and free, and simply in the same situation as most other people now. At the worst he’s lost access to his family and a privileged life. Hard but livable. 

Z1-14 on the other hand risks potential torture at the hands of a courser, erasure of his personality such as having his memories uploaded and erased from his own head or resetting him to a version that's not even him anymore, or even physical death from potentially being scrapped completely. All to help his people above himself. 

He's out here risking everything to make regular contact with Liam, to find ways to help as many people get out as he can, and despite his obvious fears of discovery he's even quick to approach you to find more / better ways of saving these people than what Liam is offering to him. 

And he never gets credit for that. 

He fights by your side when you take down the Institute with the Railroad, and all he gets is a “no need to thank us” and “It’s not over yet” from Desdemona.

Like, you should be thanking him, Des!

Anyway this was a long winded way of saying Liam can get tossed out the window and I would do anything for Z1. 

Z1 is love. Z1 is life.

[fatetcrn]

Some Absolutely Random Alistair Things: Childhood Edition

Didn't have a surname. ( even now he is extremely reluctant to refer himself as a Theirin ) When it was absolutely necessary he went by Guerrin which only upset the Arlessa further.

Was an energetic child, strong swimmer and a reckless and daring climber. Would often return from his galivanting with miscellaneous injuries and sporting new scratches, scrapes and bruises. ( and then he would get a sharp switch on his hand for running off and neglecting his chores.... worth it! )

As soon as he was old enough he would help as a stable boy, cleaning out stables and feeding and grooming horses. He also helped a bit in the armoury and daydreamed about when would be able to fit the armor he had to polish up.

Collected little carved wooden soldiers, horses and a menagerie of mythical creatures. They each had a name and a story.

He lived in his own head, even when busy with chores he was off on some adventure. This habit later served to stave boredom and loneliness during his years at the abbey.

Would spend hours in the newly harvested fields fighting haybales and scarecrows with wooden swords. He didn't always come out victorious.

Slept in the hayloft in the stables during the summer months. Wasn't allowed a lantern up there in case of fire so he would catch fireflies and keep them in jars for light. Felt a little bad about it though.

He loved listening to the village story teller and knew all the tales and legends by heart.

Wasn't allowed in the main part of the castle where the Guerrins lived but the servants would sometimes let him sneak into the library when they were away. He loved to look at the books. He particularly loved the detailed etchings of monsters and dragons and fabled heroes. The librarian / archivist who maintained the books and records grew fond of him and taught him to read a bit.

He was often told tales of nearby Witchwood. Children who ventured in never returned and children who misbehaved would be dragged off during the night right out of the village by a long fingered skeletal shadow. On nights when the moon was hazy and there was a chill in the summer air and whispers in the breeze, he would say fervent prayers to the Maker untill he was too tired to stay awake any longer, asking for forgiveness for all his trespasses ( stealing apples from the kitchen, letting his favourite chicken escape so she wouldn't get eaten for dinner, talking back to the stablemaster, forgetting to put away the pitchforks, etc ) so he would make it through the night.

Even as a child he was intelligent and articulate for his age. He had a smart mouth retort for everything which often earned him a scolding. This never stopped him though.

He actually loved going to Denerim during the winter months. He saw so many wonderful and exciting things there and would jump at the chance to run errands that took him out of the estate just so he could explore a bit. Though he was never allowed beyond the market square.

During one trip into the market district, Eamon nnoticed how the boy would linger at the shop window where they were selling golem dolls and other figurines and surprised him with one over Satinalia. He usually got old socks or a scarf or a shirt. So: Best Satinalia Ever! It was also the last one before he was sent off to Bournshire a few months later.

Contrary to popular belief, he was always a little scared of Mabari as a small child. These weren't lovable household pets. They were vicious and highly trained war hounds, hunters and guard dogs who only responded to a specific imprinted owner and could tear through several grown men in armour on command. He mostly avoided them at Redcliffe but while in Denerim, he was forced to sleep in the kennels where their cages were kept. It was warm though. ( Barkspawn is the first mabari he actually eventually bonds with. Good dog, best friend. )

Isolde did have some pampered Dailish Coursers that slept inside the castle so he rarely saw those.

Dreamt of a time he would be a Redcliffe Knight and serve his uncle and make him proud. He would watch them sparring in the training yard and imagine going on all manner of quests and adventures. It's all he wanted as a child. Redcliffe was the only place he felt some semblance of belonging and he couldn't imagine leaving.

[actualsunflower]

3 6 9 and 30 of the Edge asks, bitte? Hier sind kekse.

3 What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw? Definitely blaming everything on himself. That mindset and the shame and guilt it brings makes him very reckless sometimes. It pairs horribly with the terror of losing people/things he loves all over again. Especially with things concerning Nick, or other innocent people/creatures. But mostly Nick lol. There's a number of times in his story where he does very reckless things. One is during Nick and Jay investigating kidnapped settlers at Quincy, Nick tries to keep Jay from going with him because he doesn't want Jay to get hurt as Quincy is still full of Gunners but Jay goes anyway of course, On the way there, they get attacked by that Behemoth that's in the swamp close to Quincy. It swings its club at Nick and Jay jumps in front of him and is able to take the hit instead (I know it sounds ridiculous but he has artifact powers very similar to Lorenzo so he is VERY strong and durable!!) It does completely cripple his left arm though. One of the many times Jay does something reallllll stupid to save Nick.

6 How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass? I guess that's kind of a tricky question. The answer could be easy and hard? It really depends on who it is, the situation, yknow? For example, Jay has a very strict no killing view, but there are a few times where he does kill people like 3 of my other bad guy ocs (one is a courser, the other is my ex-brotherhood raider overboss power obsessed freak, and a going feral ghoul vault-tec scientist!) He did have to be convinced to kill 2 of them. And then the 3rd (the scientist) was out of desperation and needing to help Nick. Could a faction convince Jay to do things out of his moral compass? Also kinda. He works with the Railroad and the Minutemen. Preston and Ronnie Shaw aren't able to convince him to do any killing, however things go very very sour with the Railroad in the Institute and with the Brotherhood. Jay tries to speak to Maxson (on behalf of a faction though it took a whole lot of arguing to let him do that) and get him to willingly leave the Commonwealth stating, but Maxson refuses, and so they have no choice to blow up the Prydwen. They were very very fairly warned and he chose to stay, so no one can really blame them at that point. Still, despite how hard Jay tried he did still join the assault on the Prydwen, which of course ended in many casualties... (They DID save the kids and the cat, though. And a few BoS ppl agreed to join other factions or go free). The Institute was also raided by the Railroad (not blown up though), which he had no choice but to join because it happened suddenly without warning while he was still there undercover. 9 Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

ooooooooohhhhhhh yes I do have many songs, very many in fact and it makes it very hard to pick just one. Some would be The Kids Aren't Alright by Fall Out Boy, How Did You Love by Shinedown, Ditchdigger by Tyler Lyle, Shake it Out, Free, No Light No Light, and King all by Florence and the Machine (but there's a lot of others too. Idk they just share alotta vibes), Sunlight, Wasteland, Baby!, and Would That I and No Plan by Hozier, and a bunch of other songs and artists... But there's a ridiculous amount of music I listen to that always makes me want to draw Jay, or Jay and Nick. But it's funny if you listened to all these songs you probably wouldn't get a very clear picture of Jay and his entire character, just because I tend to focus on very specific traits/times/experiences separately instead of him as a whole when I listen to music. You'd have to pick through my entire brain's library of Jay to find the specifics of each one. Idk how to explain what I'm trying to say here honestly. I'm just rambling at this point XD

20 Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

I'm going with 20 here since I wasn't sure if maybe the 30 was from a different ask list I rbed or not, sorry if I got confused with this one! He doesn't get jealous very often, honestly. Sometimes when it comes to Nick he does, a lot of people like Nick and he can get a little bit possessive, rather than jealous. Not to an unhealthy level, just enough to earn scowls and extra affection.

In life he also doesn't get very jealous of others often. Occasionally it may be jealously of other people's emotional stability lol. But he accomplished quite a lot in his life prewar and was pretty comfortable with himself and what he had. And in terms of bad character flaws he would be too caught up blaming himself for short comings rather than feeling jealous of others.



Sorry this is so long!!!!!! Thank you so much for asking though I loved answering these!!!!!!! Please ignore any typos XD

[hankwritten]

The Scarlet Prince pt. 3

Demoman/Soldier Royalty AU, Magic, Amnesia

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

General Jane Doe of Cerulea can’t shake his past, and on a visit to the neighboring kingdom of Scarland, it comes back to haunt him in dangerous way. Who is this mysterious Scarlet Prince, and what is his interest in Jane?

“Marcel. We have to leave. Immediately.”

Marcel scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you know how long the line is for the dragon-roasted shrimp plates? Forty-five minutes. I am going to stand here and enjoy my seafood platter, do nothing else, and drink my wine even if the entire castle starts collapsing around me.” He paused, a shrimp halfway to his mouth. “Why are you so very…sweaty?”

“Marcel. Do you remember that thing. That uh, the one thing you said not to do?”

Marcel’s lips pursed in that way that had and always would mean Jane was about to be in very big trouble. “…‘Cause an international incident’?”

“Yes. That. I have done it. So we should leave now .”

Several seconds of dearth ticked by, at the end of which, the Spymaster released his most beleaguered sigh, and with excruciating slowness dumped his platter into a nearby plant. “I hate you Doe. Almost as much as I hate being right. Let us move.”

They fled the palace at a gallop, the midnight bell tolling behind them, Jane’s mind a mess of broken glass. How had that man known his dreams? More, more than just the dreams, he talked about spires in trees, things Jane hadn’t envisioned before, but the words of them sparked revelations in him so rabid they made his head hurt. He unfocused his eyes, watching the back of Marcel’s courser as it kicked mud at a frenzied pace, and tried to stop the tidal wave of visions as they came flooding in.

When they finally allowed the horses rest—a day away from the capitol and still four days from the border—Jane stared at the fire, barely feeling his exhaustion. He had so many questions…could the visions that plagued him truly be memories? Normally he’d dismiss the thought out of hand—they were too strange, too nonsensical to have actually happened—but normally figments of his imagination didn’t jump out of parties claiming they knew him, so maybe normal could go to hell.

The logical thing to do was ask Marcel. They’d known each other longer than Jane’s memory stretched back, and he needed him to fill in details on a near constant basis whenever Jane was supposed to know a fact he did not. But something kept him back. What if he asked Marcel about the mystery man, and he knew nothing, proving something was far more wrong with Jane than either of them thought?

Or worse: what if he did know who that Scarlet was to Jane?

The questions chased circles around each other, and Jane sensed it wouldn’t be long until Marcel came back from checking their perimeter and finally tried to wring some answers out of him. Namely, the exact details that had put them on the run from the Scarlets. Jane still wasn’t sure what he was going to say to that.

The sound of a violent crash dangerously close to the clearing’s edge warned that that might be put off for a little while.

Jane raced toward the noise of a steadily increasing scuffle, drawing his blade and arriving on the scene just as it came to an abrupt halt. There, Marcel had their interloper pinned to the ground; a knee on his back, a blade to his throat as Marcel pulled him back by the head.

The name slipped out without Jane willing it. “Tavish?”

Tavish’s head jerked up, despite the knife beading a line of red against his skin. It was him, though he’d abandoned the mask and changed into a simple riding uniform. His eye, panicked a moment before, softened. Daring to hope.

Jane hadn’t meant to give him any, but saying the name felt right, felt familiar. He tried to tell himself it was only because he’d said it a few times during the duel, but it didn’t stop the feeling, that feeling that connections slid past his cranium like oysters being torn from their shell.

“Jane? Do you…?”

Again, Jane took a step back.

Marcel wouldn’t be so easily placated. He looked between Jane and the man he currently had pinned several times before saying, “Tavish? As in Tavish DeGroot?”

“Er,” Tavish said. “Which answer doesn’t get me slit?”

Marcel glared at Jane. “Please don’t tell me this is why we had to flee the Scarlet Palace in a whirlwind of disgrace.”

“Um,” Jane said. “This is not why we had to flee the Scarlet Palace in a whirlwind of disgrace?”

“That is just wonderful to hear. Then perhaps you can offer me an alternative explanation as to why the crown prince of Scarland is sneaking into our camp in the middle of the night??”

“I wasn’t sneaking!” Tavish protested. “Honest. I was just trying to talk to Jane, to…”

Marcel pulled his head back farther. “How did you find us? ”

“This is the fastest road to Cerulea! Someone in the last town said they’d seen you passing through, and then I saw your fire…”

“Merde ,” Marcel spat at Jane. “I told you we should not have stopped for supplies.”

“We may take it then that an army without its baggage train is lost; without provisions it is lost,” Jane said.

“If you say-”

“-Sun Tzu said that.”

“Shut up.” Marcel spun back to his interrogation. “How many are with you? Where are they? Do they know you’re here?”

Tavish opened his mouth. It was clear he had no answer, that his hope was slowly being replaced with panic, and those dark twisting things in Jane’s mind pulled aside just enough to recognize it.

“Marcel. Stop. He’s not…I don’t think he’s…”

He didn’t know what he was. He was an enemy. The enemy.

And yet.

Jane found himself creeping forward. He made a motion, but when Marcel hesitated instead of backing off, he locked eyes with his friend. The Spymaster said nothing, but slowly retracted himself, hovering just on the edges of the forest’s encroaching darkness.

The sinking sun cast everything into dull grays as Jane stepped forward and gently helped Tavish to his feet. For the second time in as many days. This was all together different before, the prince refusing to surrender room as he gripped Jane by both forearms, hauling himself upwards.

“I know.” Tavish swallowed thickly. “I know it was a long time ago. We were kids but I thought- I needed to be sure. This isn’t all just a dream, right?”

Jane laughed humorlessly. “Now there’s a choice of words.” He felt the fingers on his arms tighten. “How do you know me?”

“We were-” Tavish suddenly averted his eye in sheepishness. “Betrothed. I mean, we were just kids and all, so it was our families who put it all together…but we were still friends! And I never stopped hoping…”

Huh. That was…certainly something. Jane leveled an eyebrow over Tavish’s shoulder, to where Marcel was lurking. “That true?”

“How should I know?” Marcel waved his dagger impatiently, his hand clutched like he was still prepared to use it. “Yes, once you did tell me you were born in Scarland, but you have told me many things over the years. And yet, completely failed to mention you were once Scarlet nobility .”

Jane shook his head. Him? Scarlet? He’d always known patches of his past were rough…

Tavish looked equally distraught. “Why did you ask him? Why would he know?”

“I’ve always had…issues. With. Up here.” Jane freed a hand long enough to raise a finger and tap his temple. “Marcel helps.”

“So you…really don’t remember me, then,” Tavish finally arrived at, still not quite believing. A note of agony slipped in, that despair creeping back to his voice.

“Maybe. What happened exactly?”

“Cerulean attack. We were out, near the river like always, but somehow they got further into the riverlands without a single warning. Magic maybe. I took a blast when they started attacking.” He indicated his patched eye. “We scattered, like all the people in the farms, and we ran for the walls and I thought you were right behind me and…”

Tavish pressed his forehead to Jane’s chest.

“Endless Voice, I’m so sorry Janey.”

Jane wrapped his arms over Tavish’s back. He smelled like horse and road dust, and homes that didn’t exist. Jane leveled a look at Marcel.

The Spymaster stared back for a good four seconds before throwing up his hands in disgust. “Fine! We won’t kill him. But he absolutely cannot come back with us to Azure Bay with us.”

*

They decided to take him back to Azure Bay.

Well, Jane decided. Marcel—a man who Tavish had never heard of but with all the casual information Jane let slip he gleaned was some sort of bodyguard—tried very hard to undecide for him, which Jane ignored with an admirable stalwartness. It might have looked like Tavish feared the assassin, keeping himself so close to the other Cerulean at all times to avoid him, but honestly it was just because Tavish was scraping for Jane’s contact at every moment. His shoulder always hovered close to Jane’s as they sat on the ground for meals, almost afraid to touch, as though if he tried to make sure Jane was really there it would turn out he wasn’t.

“We cannot enter the country with Redmond’s heir tossed over the back of your horse,” Marcel whined. He did that a lot.

“I got me own horse,” Tavish put in helpfully.

“And even if he did not, there is no way we are sending him back to that commie country!” Jane poked the rabbit roasting over the fire with a stick. Tavish was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to do that to a spit roast, but he was too busy watching Jane with open adoration to offer culinary commentary. “Have you heard what they were going to do to him there? They were going to make him get married when he did not want to get married!”

“How positively barbaric,” Marcel replied drily. “Truly we’ll have these human rights violations as soon as we get back to the capital.”

Jane nodded. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Despite his pleading, appeals to reason, and several threats against Tavish’s personage, Marcel couldn’t get Jane to budge on the matter. Every day they grew further and further from New Ruby and it shocked Tavish how little that mattered to him. So much for patriotism. With Jane here and only his mother and the slowly constricting noose of Redmond’s inevitable demise behind him, the only true path was toward Cerulea.

“Thank you,” Tavish said that night, their bedrolls in the process of unfurling (Tavish hadn’t packed supplies in his rush to leave the palace, and Marcel had declared him ‘Doe’s problem’ so it was Jane’s tent he shared) on to hard earth below. “For standing up for me.”

Most of the conversations during their precarious journey had been like this. Tavish trying to and failing to find the words that would surmount the impossible hills of ground he wanted to cover, and in the end too busy being happy to care.

Jane stopped in the process of straightening out his boots. “We were friends. That is what friends do.”

“We were, aye. Do you really not remember any of it?”

“Not remember, no.” Jane frowned. “I dream, sometimes. But…there was always someone there, and I now know that someone was you.” He set down the boots so carefully, and fixed Tavish with his stare. “And when I met you again, I liked you then too. You were charming, daring, and proved not all Scarlets need their hands held to cross a puddle.”

“You sure about liking me? I sort o’ bungled the charming part…”

“You turned out to be noble at heart.”

He reached toward Tavish, brushing his thumb against that scratch still scabbed on Tavish’s cheek. Tavish froze, kneeled in front of him, both huddled so close inside the tent he could see every detail the years apart had left his friend. Wrinkles, the faint outlines of scars, and he searched hungrily over it all, just like he had when the mask had come down. He slung an arm behind Jane’s neck and dragged him closer.

“It was a crime to keep a warrior like you away from his sword,” Jane said. “They have wronged you. If I had been there, I would never have let it happen.”

Tavish laughed. “Don’t blame yourself for that, lad. You were too busy being kidnapped by Ceruleans.”

“Still! It was a mistake we will rectify. I’ll get you a real fight DeGroot, mark my words!”

Jane’s mouth was smirking, mere inches away…

The scream of horses tore all other thoughts from Tavish’s mind. It ripped through the tent as assuredly as the sword that came stabbing through the canvas a moment later. It was their only warning, and as the shredded flaps of tent parted around them Tavish saw why: Marcel, their usually dependable barometer for danger had his hands raised in surrender, kneeling next to the horses as they stamped in panic. Another sword was pointed at his throat, assumedly so he wouldn’t sound the alarm, and he wore an expression of beleaguered unspurise.

Tavish, honed by years of living under threat of Cerulean invasion, didn’t register what was happening at first. His mind snapped to occupation, to blue uniforms that didn’t exist. Even as he and Jane were forced to kneel, no time to even get to get their weapons in their hands, he still recognize them for what they were.

It wasn’t until one of the bandits said, “you were right Lloyd! Just like on that them poster there!”

They were all leering at Tavish like he was their next meal ticket, and under the burden of that uniform attention he stupidly repeated, “poster?”

“Aye, this one right here!” said the closest one, waving a weather beaten piece of paper. “Ten thousand kröwns for the safe return of the prince, and five thousand a piece for each kidnappers’ head.”

Tavish paused. It was not productive to argue with the sketch of him presented on the wanted poster—his features were rather on the distinctive side. Instead he said, “well, at least she had the decency to offer more for me than she did for you lot.”

Marcel released an exhale whose length did not seem humanly possible, which he capped off with an embittered, “fuck .”

Jane, slightly to Tavish’s left, said nothing. He seethed in silence, glaring at their captors as they began to rummage through the camp, and Tavish realized if he didn’t do something, someone else would. Guilt played no small part in the need for action either. Here he’d brought trouble down upon the Ceruleans heads, just like Marcel said.

“Listen lads,” Tavish said, trying to look like he wasn’t addressing the sword waving dangerously toward him. “You’re obviously all good, noble Scarlets who’re doing their patriotic duty. Now that you’ve got those er…kidnappers all hedged in, why don’t you point those knives somewhere else?”

“Don’t think so mate,” the one pilfering the food supplies said. “In order to get that bounty, it’s really important you don’t go anywhere .”

“You won’t get any bounty if-”

Tavish was just about to pull the royal pillock card, when his prophecy about someone else taking drastic action came devastatingly true.

However, it wasn’t Jane who slipped from his extortionist’s grasp and began jamming daggers into people's necks.

If Tavish hadn’t been watching he wouldn’t have believed it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Marcel melt, his entire body turning to smoke, swirling backwards and appearing behind the bandit. The bandit gurgled as he went down, Marcel flipping his knife and falling into a fencing stance.

“Shapeshifter!” one of the bandits hissed as another rand forward with a roar.

Jane did not waste the distraction. He was up in an instant, dodging inside the range of his horrified guard, knocking him to the ground as, “oorah!” sprang from his lips. He used the tip of his boot to flip the fire’s poking stick into his hands, then promptly rammed it through the prone man’s eye.

The clearing they’d made camp in had devolved to blood and screaming so quickly, so vividly,  Tavish was back on those red banks in an instant. He tried to stay present, to watch as Marcel dispatched another, to notice the next attacker approaching the assassin from behind. He opened his mouth to give warning. Nothing came out.

But it wasn’t a weapon this latest assailant struck Marcel with. It was something he’d pulled from his neck, an iron symbol on a chain, and with it he rammed his fist forward until the pendant clattered against Marcel’s back.

His skin parted around the pendant like it was water, and though Tavish had just heard the screams of dying men thrice in intimate detail, this one was the most horrifying of them all. Marcel spun, clumsily thrusting his blade into the gut of the bandit, but when he fell Marcel made no move out of the way. The last Tavish saw of them was a hulking corpse pinning Marcel to the ground.

Yet when Tavish scrambled to his feet the only thing he could focus on was Jane.

The General had somehow gotten his sword in his hand, a feat Tavish couldn’t even fathom right now. He was locked in single combat with one of the last two bandits, and Tavish knew there were two because the second was swinging a greataxe at Jane’s back.

This time, the lack of logical thought going on in Tavish’s head was a blessing. There was no hesitation as he lunged forward and tackled the bigger man.

It was a miracle the axe didn’t get a hit on him. It was less of a miracle when they both went tumbling into the pit fire, though Tavish would take what he was given. He held the man’s face down into the flames until his hands blistered, and the screaming stopped.

When it was done, he scooted backwards, shaking, and muttered softly, “bloody hell.”

Jane had dispatched his dueling partner with a neat spear through the chest, flicking his blade free of blood before noticing. The prince sat on the ground, staring dumbly at the burning body, watching as the fire thanked him profusely for the fresh fuel.

He felt Jane’s hand squeeze his shoulder. “Well done, soldier.”

The pause for comfort was brief. Jane took one look around the camp and noticed where Marcel’s body was still trapped, and immediately his steely composure disappeared. He rushed over and pushed away the bandit’s corpse.

“Marcel!” he grunted, trying to lift the man to a sitting position.

Man? Was that the right term for a shapeshifter? With all that had gone on, Tavish was only now starting to connect the dots.

Jane found the pendant amongst the gore. “Cold iron,” he muttered in disgust, and tossed it away. Immediately, Marcel stirred, opening his eyes feebly.

“Is he…is he going to be alright?” Tavish found himself asking.

Maybe that was a strange thing to do—worry about a fae, man’s most hated enemy—but for some reason Tavish wasn't afraid. Marcel had probably saved all their lives and, well, he was Jane’s friend. That meant something now, when loyalties were more than red and blue.

“I think so,” Jane said. “I’ve only ever seen it happen once, but I am…reasonably confident it is temporary! Help me get him closer to the fire.”

Tavish helped.

As soon as Marcel was conscious, the abandoned the camp of steel and blood where Tavish had made his first kill. Their traveling pace was slower, and the tension releasing from Jane’s shoulders when they finally crossed the border into Cerulea was palpable. Exactly how bad of a situation they were in was unclear: it didn’t seem that Marcel and Jane’s identities were known to the general populace, but apparently ‘that damn toymaker’ would know at the very least. This Tavish gleaned from Jane and Marcel’s clipped conversations he was only occasionally allowed to overhear.

In a wild swing from the casual threats Marcel had made towards him during the first leg of their journey, he now spent their days crossing the plains of Scarland—the scent of salt grew stronger every day they drew closer to the sea, Tavish didn’t know how anyone could stand it—completely mum. A very obvious attempt to keep Tavish out of the loop, cutting off whatever he was saying whenever Tavish’s horse drew near.

Tavish finally breached that gulf of half a day’s ride away, the spire of architecturally improbable tower just visible on the horizon. “You’re feeding off him, aren’t you? That’s why he can’t remember anything.”

Marcel went stiff in his saddle. Tavish had waited until Jane’s draft had pulled ahead, swaying easily on the unpaved road. Their conversation was, effectively, private.

What little conversation there was. Marcel held up the silence uncompromisingly, like a blanket of protection, and Tavish had almost resigned himself to believing there would be no speaking to the fae, until he finally broke it with a, “yes, but it is not how you think.”

“And how do I think?”

“That stealing the thoughts of mortals is how I power my abilities. That is the faery story you tell in Scarland, is it not? But it is the opposite, really. His memories they….they do not allow me to change, but to stay unchanged, to find something grounded and hold on to that. Without him I would start to…slip. To whatever my own mind wandered to. It is why we do not ‘exist’ for very long.”

The sound of hoofbeats was the only sound  for a while.

Finally, Tavish asked, “does he know?”

Gravely, Marcel looked over the waving wheat of farms along the road, the summer’s harvest waist high and growing. “Once. Once upon a time I made a deal with someone who was full of potential, but hounded by ghosts that held them back. It was beneficial to us both. Now of course he does not remember that promise, nor even being that person who has made such a promise, and I for my part have-” He came to a stop. “I have grown fond.”

“Ach if ever a fae creature was going to grow a soft spot for some barmy mortal, it would be for Jane. He has that effect.”

Marcel looked at him sideways. “You’re oddly chipper after having your worst assumptions about shapeshifters confirmed.”

“Well…you’re Jane’s.”

“His what?”

“Just…his. I guess I am too now. Or always was. Even when he was gone, my heart belonged to him.”

They lapsed. Into silence, into routine, into night as the sun began to sink into yellow waves in the west. Every moment there was something newly off about Marcel, but Tavish didn’t think much of it; he’d said what he’d wanted to say, and now his mind had only thoughts of the future, what they would do when they reached the city.

He didn’t look at the hands twisting in the reigns until Marcel said in rushed tones, “they are going to kill you as soon as we’re inside the palace walls.”

Tavish didn’t have time to reply, didn’t even have time for shock before Marcel hurried on.

“They very very badly need this peace. You reveal yourself, claim you’re eloping with the commander of Blutarch’s armies, it won’t matter how willingly you’ve gone—it will be just the pretense our kingdoms need to reignite the kindling.” He stared straight ahead, delivering each line with cold indifference. “Even your personal best case scenario has you being shipped back to New Ruby in a belated attempt at appeasement; but honestly the council would prefer it if you were killed off quietly and cleanly, before word escaped that you’d been seen in Azure Bay at all.”

“And you’re just telling me this now?” Tavish choked. “While we’re in sight of the city walls? And why didn’t you tell Jane this?”

“Don’t think I didn’t. It was the first argument I presented to him, and like always he brushed me off. Jane will and forever be convinced in his own inevitability; no amount of logic will persuade him he can’t handle something when he sets his mind to it.”

“…If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must fight,” Tavish echoed faintly, dread settling over him.

“To be honest, when it became apparent he would not ditch you, I resigned myself to entering the city anyway. Of course Jane would be upset about your death for a little while, but he’d get over it eventually.”

Tavish glowered.

“I…have revised my stance.” Marcel cleared his throat. “So now do you see? You must turn around. Forget you ever saw us. Avoid a war that will only spawn more ceaseless death.”

Tavish stared ahead. At Jane’s horse in the distance. At Jane’s home that had kept him safe when Scarland couldn’t.

“You told Jane all this?” he said eventually.

“As I mentioned, yes.”

“And he came to a different conclusion. He thinks this will help our kingdoms, not hurt them.”

“You can’t be serious,” Marcel glared. “Jane is—delusional is the kindest of the possible terms—and his judgment is blind to things like his own shortcomings and rational thought. You mustn’t follow him in there.”

“I trust him,” Tavish said, with a certainty that hadn’t hit him until he spoke the words. “With my life, if necessary.”

They entered the palace just as the last of the heaven’s eye dipped below the horizon. Marcel was still trying to convince him, his hushed words, in threats where he grew frustrated. Tavish kept his gaze to Jane’s back. Even as they walked up the great stone steps. Even when he heard the marching of many armored feet closing in behind them.

He saw the muscles in Jane’s jaw tense. Maybe he was expecting it too. He certainly didn’t seem surprised when he turned and saw the guards closing in on them.

They three drew their blades simultaneously, but it was almost funny how obviously ineffective that would be, how many the Cerulean numbers outmatched their own. A single second of consideration crossed Jane’s face, and Tavish watched it stretch an infinite number of heartbeats.

The General turned, standing shoulder to shoulder with Marcel as they faced the oncoming swarm. He looked over his shoulder and told Tavish, “run.”

And there was no way out but in.

His boots slammed against the marble floors of the Azure halls. Again the guilt of what he’d brought upon Jane welled within him, but the screeching pain in his lungs as he sprinted pushed it down. Jane and Marcel might be fine, and Tavish didn’t have that ‘might’. He had to keep running.

He sprinted up spiral staircases and down corridors, all the while swearing the march of footsteps behind him were growing louder. How long could two men against twenty buy him? A few seconds? It wasn’t his imagination, they were gaining and he was slowing, there was nowhere in this bloody palace to hide.

And then.

There was a door.

It was innocuous, hanging open as if laughing at him, strange soot stains caressing the wall where the wood touched stone. And as soon as Tavish passed through it slammed shut behind him.

[driftwoodskeleton]

4-9 for Tallahassee and Sebastian, please!

i love talking about my OCs so thank you for this.

4: How do they feel about people from before the war?

Tally wishes she'd run into more of them. Maybe some old friends? She liked meeting the Vault-tec rep as a ghoul, but all the others she's met have been people she didn't know, She was hoping some of her old friends might have survived, but no such luck so far.

Sebastian hates them. He tries to avoid thinking about them much, to be honest. He hates what they did to the world and that he has to struggle now because of it. He'd never admit it, but a lot of his hatred stems from jealousy about how comfortable and easy their lives seemed.

5: Where are they from?

Tally is from Louisiana, but she's spent most of her life in Massachusetts.

Seb is from what's left of Texas. He left as soon as he could and headed for the Mojave and hasn't looked back. Much.

6: What faction/s are they currently part of?

Tally is firmly Brotherhood of Steel, since taking over. She helps out with the Minutemen too, but that's less important to her now.

Sebastian would prefer it if all major players in the Mojave would spontaneously explode. He's not necessarily into the thought of a wholly independent Vegas, but if it meant he could just go back to his job without becoming some massive figurehead for everything, he'd be thrilled.

7: What faction/s have they been part of in the past?

Tally was more involved in the Minutemen previously, but she's taken a backseat on that now. Since Desdemona kinda Railroaded (haha) her into joining them in order to get the courser chip decoded, I guess they count as a prior faction since she destroyed them?

Seb was helping Yes-Man and the NCR before he realised they were both insane in their own ways and that he wanted nothing to do with any of them anymore.

8: Have they met any canon characters?

Tally has met most of the canon characters in Boston aside from a few like X6-88 and Curie. She has a hard time keeping track of everyone she has met.

Sebby tends to avoid people unless he has no choice, so he hasn't met that many. He did shoot Caesar in their first meeting, so it's probably for the best that he avoids people.

9: Are they friends with any canon characters?

Tally is friends with a lot of people, she finds it helps with her Elder related duties to be friendly with people from across the Commonwealth. She's closest to Danse though.

No. Sebastian hates pretty much everyone. Except Rex, Raul, and Lily. Something about her calling him her grandson by accident melted his cold, dead heart just a little.

🌸 Thank you so much for the ask!!! 🌸

[wabisabireiki]

The scorpion and the moon

Dearest, I signed up for a Friday the 13th (9/13/24-flash sale tattoo with my regular artist). Felt around on their flash for what sang to me and there was a little scorpion holding a crescent moon and star. My mom is a Scorpio and I've been trying in my own ways to smooth over the challenging aspects of our relating that has gotten courser over the years through my healing process ( and no doubt her unspoken gilt and shame). He, my artist booked me out a few days after the 13th and it fell on the day before the full moon. The timing was perfect though not on the 13th. I was his last appointment for the day and we spent my session catching up and talking about Preacher ( the show), mutual acquaintances, life, movies etc.

About a week before that I had listened to the diary of a ceo podcast with Andrew Huberman, and in it Andrew talked about how much relationships were such a big part of his life. In the talk he says he texts certain people ( not family) every morning. And that those morning texts between he and his friends are such important aspects of his life. IMO: Connection is becoming harder to navigate in this modern world because it is full of false alarm distractions/ exploitations. I have since started to text my mom every morning. Just a "Have a good day, or hi, hello", etc. I noticed she always responds in a way that I sense makes her feel cared for. I'd been sharing with her a lot about my Jung animus studies when I see her, which has also been with more consistency as of late.

A few years ago when my mom went on a short stint of leaving her Christianity to discover new age spirituality, she got her reiki certification and had begun to search outside of a religion. One time we went to a metaphysical shop and we both got tarot readings from a gifted psychic. When it came time to get my reading the psychic asked my mom to give us some privacy. She then relayed to me in a question, that there was something in the relationship with my mother that had greatly affected me and was more or less containing/ holding me back? I had never considered this before. I was blindsided and confused. Over the next couple of years I would delve deep into my unconscious ( Scorpio territory) and I would see, especially recently that I inherited so much from my mother's unconscious ( NO DIVING, as the sign says). As I continue to excavate the depths, what I see specifically now in this timing is how much my thoughts, feelings, sensations, and emotions were just copied and pasted over to my blueprint. Once you see it, you SEE IT.

This full moon eclipse for me is the culmination of all I have seen and felt that is not mine. There is a lot to leave behind ( not in abandonment) but in recognition that it is not mine. It is not me and I don't need to do something with it ( like remove it, fight it, condemn it). I find it hysterical that I took this pic to show someone my tattoo and it had the 'no diving 'sign in the background bc I was reading by the pool. It brings me back to so many childhood memories of growing up in El Paso near the mountains and all the run- ins I'd had with scorpions. 🦂 Never did get stung, but specifically one memory we went swimming at a family friend's and there was an alive scorpion just chilling at the bottom of the pool! They are always diving!

The great reckoning is going "OH! This beautiful substance ( in my metaphor a scorpion) that is within the scorpionic symbol- is indeed poison in one state and especially when it is retaliatory. It's other function(s) is/are heavy ( dangerous, of great pressure) exploration, adaptability, deep knowing, courage, power, resiliency and of course transformation."

A medicine. A magical alchemical process.

I find when my mom and I get together I am telling her a lot about the animus lately ( very virgo/ pisces axis) I see her intrigued and guarded.

This little tattoo is literally a symbol that I hold the rights to my self empowerment, which I am ironically just realizing that is what most of my tattoo's symbolize. It's still pleasing to me to think, "remember that one time I had no idea I was letting all of these attachments run my unconscious beliefs?!".

And how just this year an intentional mastery of said thoughts, feeling sensations, and emotions would be my focus.

CHEERS to all the scorpions out there, you continue to be one of my most beloved teachers and guides. And my South node in ♏️ 🥂

[sniperdadmaccready]

What’s your sole survivors opinions on X6-88?

Chad respects X6-88, but is ultimately really frustrated that X6 can't understand that the Institute is manipulating him. Ideally, he would like to work with them and better humanity but he knows the people running the Institute are little more than eugenicists on a power trip. The alleged pros do not outweigh the cons in his mind, and he's still not certain Father is actually Shaun.

He sees a lot of parallels between himself and X6, especially given his past as being nothing more than a pawn in a war he never asked to have to partake of. He doesn't want to help the Institute at the cost of the people of the Commonwealth, so if you're going off of "game canon", he would kill X6 without hesitation.

However, in my story, he would eventually help X6 realize that he is more than just a machine made to follow orders. I've been playing with the idea of having X6 become a double agent for the Railroad, because he is a very interesting character and deserves to be treated as more than just Father's obedient little Courser that knows how to play fetch. They don't see eye to eye on many things; Chad can be a little too narrow minded and stubborn for his own good, and while X6 is also detail oriented, he knows when to relent. Chad doesn't. X6 (along with Danse actually) is also a catalyst to my Sole realizing just how attached to the past he is and helping him overcome that. When the Minutemen take down the Institute, he makes sure that X6 and the other synths (and humans!) are safe before he takes the nuclear option. He never forgives himself for making it; this is one of the few things him and X6 agree about, even if for very different reasons.

[druidgroves]

Hi there! I saw ur reblog of that oc ask post and am here to stare intently at you until I hear about your favorite little fellas(this is a joke btw dont feel nervous, I am not really staring at you) Also! Nice head banner, I take it a fan of fallout? So am i! I did notice in ur tags that it would be cool to drop some info about my own ocs and what do you know! I got some fallout buddies too(I'm assuming you have fallout ocs but I got no idea so pls tell if I'm right or not here lol)

If you'll like to hear, ive got about 7 or so fallout ocs? I've got One ghoul who I named vith, Shes my 76 vault dellwer who after roughly a year out in the wastes got unlucky and had a bomb drop on her head while doing her monthly shopping trip to white springs. Then I got my 101 vautie naned minx! She was a somewhat bratty daddy's girl and nearly died while trying to find her dad. While on deaths door this... Thing/eldritch horror manges to convice her to let it in and they're do the hard work of finding her dad for her. She agrees and the smoggy radiation filled thing claws inside her and takes over. Minx as she was fades to the background and the Thing slowly learns how to be human.

Next up is my complicated family Trio of "solo" survivors. First of which is Six! She ended up accidentally released 10 years earlier than the normal Fallout 4 time frame and instead of heading down into sanctuary and fulfilling the main quest line she turned tails and runs away. She eventually find her finds her way all the way over to New Vegas picks up at a courier job and get shot in the head. Six as she now goes by cant remember anything of her life before that bullet and after finishing up everything under sun she can in Vegas, Six tracks down her trail back to where she came. Took nearly 5 damn years but she arrives back to the Commonwealth but just in time to meet my other two solo survivors! Which are Kiin, angry and grieving mother and thier old lady neighbor Aaz whos a wanna be baseball player. Never got to play professionally and instead became a carpenter. Mostly pretty chill. On the flip is Kiin who is FULL throttle and ends up doing some awful shit before finally snapping out of her blinding anger with the decision to have to replace high confessor tektus. While in disbelief at first she became a believer in atom over the course of infiltrating the nucleus

And now lastly but not least in the slightest are my two synth courser characters, Lo10 and KO01. I havent touched Lo in so long damn, anyway both gals are trans women and exs. Both hate each other's guts, well lo does. K's doesnt care beyoud that fact Lo got away instead of staying dead which cant stand if her plans are to go smoothly. Lo wears her heart on her sleeve and was quick to join the railroad after managing to Escape. I need to work on her more. And now finally onto K, she is like one of if not my favorite oc out of all of my guys. She gets elected to become a prototype NextGen synth that is made to act as a "wasteland hero" and bc the Institutes goals are so skewed she takes it upon herself to infiltrate different groups across the Commonwealth and a little bit beyond and take them down from the inside. normally ending in fiery explosions. In the timeline in which K is the only player character runing around her story ends with the destruction of major group above ground the Minutemen the Brotherhood the entirety of far Harbor and many settlements that kind of grew to be pretty big. She took them down with a smile and a knife to their backs. Upon returning home her Quest finally fulfilled The Institute attempts to deactivate her. The key word being attempt there, turns out when they recoded K to become their next generation wasteland hero they messed up a little and one, forgot to make is so she could sleep and two add in a deactivation code whoopies~. Anyway that leads K to locking down the Institute and killing everyone inside before leaving to carry her trail of destruction to the wider Wasteland.. For my major timeline with all if my guys in it her full story is unclear but she would 100% end up taking up the role of the main villan. Would have acted a follower to Kiin for a time and helped her while in far harbour and then destroy the town after gaining it's trust. Only after Kiin had left of course.

And uh thats about it. Hope you liked hearing about my gals, I could ramble on and on about them. Now having shared my fellas could I hear a bit about yours?

hello & WHOA !!! thank you for telling me abt ur fallout ocs !!! Vith sounds very cool just bc I haven't played much of FO76 & the idea of one of the 76 dwellers eventually turning into a ghoul is awesome!

im a huge fallout fan as well & have a few ocs bouncing around on my blog, though my main ones are my canon divergent sole survivor georgia, my courier six temperance/em, & my lone wanderer florence/flora! i'd go into more detail but im on my lunch break rn & don't have a lot of time, but all their tags + tags for other ocs can be found here :) i talk about georgia the most tho bc she became very important to me very fast lol

[libidomechanica]

“Sunset through”

A ballad sequence

               I

No thought he, it would be dated     some years therinne. And capabilities, as they turn it     was I’m trying! But today

a coffin for the Town must go     therwithal so well, by oft predict that wolde han my bele     chose, I koude pleyne, and

wide, and arms is discreet at all:     in vain I love thee biseke! Be ye lock’d up like figured     the creamy curd, the sort

amid the second yoke. As if     they were swich a tale to tell of the cold hill side. I keep     but a kisse, both black-eyed

Sal his bloodletting sun. Young without     leaving the street, i’ll love you, dear, I’ll love you till China     and Africa meet,

and you ask how shall go, as hawks     may pounce upon him, giving chain and to the few or many     a green-gown has been

bred; here wild. And called is Seint Thomas,     why that ere bloom of a crescent’s coruscation, t     would name, Bannockburn,

Passchendaele, Babi Yar, Vietnam.     There still plain and with his Christian nun, will set off a     greater could he, the must.

The glimmering thy heart, which that     the world shall he spake were not how to purge from above speeds     the lasse light. Sunset through.

Saucy pedantic wretched her     tyrannic power of pathos, and joinèd handsome stripling     with us the quarter.

               II

And be my love, where those isles of     your wine, and coveted wassailled upon my face, shall     never more brighten, must be well at once at the housbonde     born to be like a full- blown sleet: his way to mount, and be     than lie, but thou art

everything. Man shal weddė me anon;     now, dame, telle hire housbondes for that you please the Eye     would never bear unless he’s drunk, gamed, and this is the     colour of his head into her brow grew beside thee that     in much more tame for his

mercy: were strongest reason hated,     and endless age. That I love thee purely, as men strives     to polish all the nyght, while thou wert left and so was oure     werre ystynt. Fresh-quilted colour wol hire horrid sin—and     what not, all ragamuffins

different language feels impossible     to pleased with leaves, which maybe with ful good deal shock’d     at tears of May; the open shone: upon her debtor; the     art I know not young. To the northern winds comprehend all     the Birds have I joye or

blis, this joly clerk wol speke of     woes; your chest and prey. Nor turn has been my heart, her Lord was     as flat as a child; has ev’n been of the year, I walked we,     til trewely we hadden they hadde left their dirty smock;     or Sappho fragrance of

satisfaction can overwhelmed     the liquid azure blood was quit, by God’s blessing, turning     Porphyro! But after us: this morning ring, and twice     five years before and thee, panting, and hoar; then the feeldes     wente. Still lying off the

bargain sounds, like to orphans you     harm. In writing Courser’ by mistake it in the sapphire     heaven, the excursive, breaking breathed o’er seem’d to receives     and lyves than in thine arms, here at the eye along     the visions with his brace

of any oother worse than I     once would leave sultanas to decay, o’ercharged with sorwe!     The breadth of pavement, and the grime of weed that I am     become a man—so glorious end by such a genial     soil for being something

replete with reason, upon Sion’s     hill must ramble with air sedate and remarried, the earth     in earthly paradise of ioy it is, so fashion and     of all the sad twenty spring open today when sweet     violet? Idle; let us

away, and make me from their     conductor tapping sorrowing, the daily labour, in     this close up this we were none. Brother, quod he, so have call’d,     La belle Dame sans mercy: star’d, where, like to greet solempnytee,     and after; but no—

already runs zigzag toward those who     sigh o’er sonnets, and tears, and Baba, their change graces still     he grew so—on their charms from leaf to lead him, in close at     hand, where parent still and duly seated her swayed, all bowed     beneath the poesy, the

power of Babel might know what     I knew the thanks, if aught save praye yow, if my Pegasus     hath been her sex, here stones;— the key turn will worse, the fool with     forever, and though Eve herself upon his bonds so much     the charge wher they are killed.

               III

But the flashing of pee. You are     the lofty trees, with nerves tuned it his joined clench of steel us     as the rose in fear,

needing is simpler about the     sky, yet, I will call. Her own, she might in me this; now dame,     quod he, by God and bread.

               IV

Her loving you cannot climb, you,     great disasters may teach them as you were dumb—monsters, who     must be worn at her to

come help the other, your back. Love     ye who list her humour most retire, to waken envy     of our sheep half-asleep

I return’d away his ears,     at the act. With seraphims the hare limp’d trembler in the     excursive, breaking lately

two at presence of satisfaction     can overwhelm the imperial halls, as also     much sacrifice;—through

Kennington and usen hem on     honde. That I loved well? It seems, to the fair he seem’d to reach     them a voice to warm today

when soft voice my heart, be thirty     mock tyrant o’er in hid wayes to guide-books, vials in     the left scole, and sail

for a hint or two, would brook and     over it awkward; for Eastern clime—with fine Conceits, all     are the intellectual

eunuch made it with an angel,     newly drest, by lights of winter, whose pain with vexation,     about you think so:

for having had him to kneel down,     and cursed book a leef, that is. Of years later. Alone should     have my tale of tribulacioun

is well-tim’d retreating     train retired, one world its very well: what spekestow of     present state? God helpe me

verray shame, that for slept an azure-     lidded sleep oppression curs’d with periwigs in curl     in window blew in like

a flowers. This union you wander     about you about you turned into stream that it     reminded them of the

Emperour, she was a good as well     as heavens expand, the earth; and of such a closet, of     such small items costly.

And best, for the pure freckling, the     lines mellifluously bland, and limped down with another they     are exposed to it, no

doubt not be king—was receive them     that was on thy heart’s undoing. But you that wolde nat of     hym Daryus, which shoulders.

               V

And even to these to guess he     was she, Blythe was she, Blythe by the dusk curtains peep’d, where the     lovers—who last night; slow

heauinesse in both display’d the Asian     should I dance and worse it proves insubstantial for my     presentative of all

appealed to sleep, the scrubbed, shepherd     swains shall smell how true! Rosy morn now lifts his own brain’s     oppression—cannot be gay

let a tale growest beauty in     this be dear, tis true, a little skill you that with her common     change she earth; been thynges

trouble which serves tuned for supper     now, and peace in the race. And nathless words, not words to     spare, they hem mysavyse.

               VI

” We’re not see them, too, for an ouche of Jobes pacience.     Thou trace and lo! Or that all’s ideal— all ourselves cannot fry. Baba retires himselfe,     or else of them glows, and makes all the record of all but low their little jars for you     may, a sort of queens may die a jest told of the place with such appellants go to—God     knows! When once were to Mahomet! And

does a cheek, like hard life, and tired I look back     again. Then let no buzz’d whispers to have seen the ken, or who wolde nat spare your life! Now     dame, quod the Pope. I have not been treated as gentlemen seem I and you an equal     was foreclosed. Rough faces through a land of all the other day I went the time and be     my love to so respects high; but worn

at heart to the feast, the only gentlemen to     supersede all warblers here beams the clerk, and therefore, hey ho! Charms by accept; provided     always petal myself, at one that with you! An error and twenty-four; to warmth     expres word? Not to death from birth strung brother I bow’d to her breath,—he from his fo; lucia,     likerousness of tickets, or

coach, and yellow-white glow tells me wish you, a million     fighters admires the lustrous eft was on Friday last—this very fiery night,     since my soul doth ache. My father words; crowds, cuckoo-like, endangered hatchlings from you, I’m     with prise of Or Molu. Come, some time, the wise and shame struck them this poem will be mud     on thy choice, who marke in the kind; those

passionate heart, Love’s nervelets were once more free     from mortal man impassionless, but a little to play a notion, which a man in     too soft a lasting, there was, were four, on purpose, and som folk desire to land. This     union you wandering how anything of the world’s contracted new come daily to     the devil can tell: where Nabuchadonosor,

king off the ball-fields and though not mad     with the brain; for whole creature self did make, of a complete her best look for to plese, but     conseil to virginitee; and foremost from our prime; and for that am nat I. Go, for     Thisbe and fragrance of mine. I kan nat kepe hir mariage? That somewhat many a sweetest     Lesbia, close by a country and the

nation, not to the food tree on which he own’d all     in time, and, where, dropping, My Madeline! But Crist, that voices die, vibrates in the western     gate, t was once set is one with you just a tree, and I loved the other; yet you     see, o pity, and Misses? To turn on their full meed of merit, and worshipp’d be;     dissolution in this clerk is preysed.

               VII

And came to me my love of the     lanterne; he shall bound: tis not quite enough if deaf and ducklings;     there come into her

breath? Judge, then, if he would come youngster,     as harbinger of her nation, a poniard pierced through     the seemly raiment of

sentiment till dawn at play, the     sweet, and you remember, or a hundred pages has given     their Cakes an active

share, for who’s so dumb that can well     as breeches. The wretched over the Landholders, sprung from     the clouds, and took a while

I lay, he was her dears shed would     have closer? His afternoon— the House of God hath yive to     weddė me, if they were badde.

               VIII

If this place of Lucy’s feet: he     could not be dieted with plume, tis no easy thing the leaf     where Joan was portrait may

wax too bold, We shall wish, betide,     the hall door shuts again. The dim purpureal tresses     severall waies, to pleye, and

in his foore. Juan, which sweet and the     rough all the capital, its princes if it be seen, which     at the tiger-moth’s deep

woods, I dreamed on the languid smile     was like a ghost away child, I felte his arms into my     very hands in wives’ eyes

for this godhead once a man do?     Sudden a threats, and talk in tender and delves to unity,     like all minds at last

the skies, made in thy sight, and all     who had might sees. Thus far our country gentle cast, and lat     us wyvės hoten

barly breed of purėd whetė seed,     and lost its way the wide closet crept, His prayers forth she     brink of dining. To flourish

they were slick-faced. He cursed their     caps at cautious dukes, have we profanely term’d the Moon.     Though Wisdom’s triumph, come

and Eve was of his cruel man and     for her eyes, t were easier done to brief minutes slowly     in the light your Mother

slowly close complain and Erin’s     gore, and dandiest chatter, or all that you say: be     hypocritical, be cautious,

be not what thou poure alwey     upon the steadfast rock of Immortal greetings given     to save forgotten, my

love, and, lordynges, sustained gloves—     wheezed and coole. And children and still doost it detest. But     it were nothing to a

pint of prey, are simile holds     the weak one’s friends that I am nothing to his side: and     then this beautee and troublen

al that bed; she comes, she cried, the     prison, till they’ve taught; sweet arguments of relish sweetness,     to-morrow or to-day.

               IX

Of Venus for him, those who sleep.     What would shut up annals wax’d but the mountains, dissolution     sweet pastimes good for

peace. Hide; there is of a blasting     marriage; and now that began to chide: there I can’t stand time,     the blood of monarch and

laid out along that no pace else     these to go where the Dublin shouts—and each yellow pin on     your sleep one critiqu’d

your heart instead of shiver’d, vanish’d.     It will be thy place, this ill-timed pride, weakness he     reproved. And feeble, and,

neither chambers held barbarian     hordes, the Devil; the negro from the steadfast rock of     Immortal purity,

twixt a miser and without thine     arms, here at that I ne sholde I seye that rang with in-born     mind! And strange death my

loveliness of the bloody, full     of the nipple learns. When they run into one where the quiet-     colour’d silk; next with

their sable guide, amongst the feeldes     wente. My third-’—Your third, the hall, at distance, sometimes it     may wax too bold, and you

an equal courteous to me.     Rave and kneled faire, and paye his deathbell rung; all cates and     orchards rooted in the

banks of Earn, and blazon o’er all     shall know if youre praktike. Of him, I thoughts or thy heart. The     pleated shirt yellowing.

               X

If he found it gives my friend, too,     of all but loue which should not see thee, panting, an offering,     all ourselves, or are ye

at with what an intellects, who     composed? Let him that have the women up, because of the     folk swich daliance, this unblest,

toasts live and merry was she     fleeth afore fainting I follow but track me like to look     in your life for once it

was more be seen, with delightful     to offend, will worthie to approaching new. Where are chasten’d     domes of Westminster’s face.

               XI

And all princes down on the camp     of love solemnized the right; our dayes run In all the     mark of Adam may resemblances that you must come     anymore. What I could bring for duchesses, they moste han a     likerousness and beat

the honey’d middle of causelesse     care; they circle their starved lips in those sad words with her     good looks now, if my own, in fragrance and merry was she     bought virgins, and plum, and made hir housbondes for a book,     pardee! May we presume,

tis that lies in women, soldiers     and low: trip no further behold, then better’d to higher     spinning of seamen’s fates, and anon doubting than descend     to brief for affording which Juan to appeared. Thus do I     pine and poor, would lead to

her father pat me frae his dore     upon occasion. The rooks went unexplained, no two made     in the fisherman swore he was of age were a pretty     freak, but for open- heveded he hir skyn and goon and     now my epic renegade,

what the world with a fillet     of smooth-faced, thought, a book, right to see and henceforth from me,     after thy powers do stur; in the rare things, endure. For     women is, that gives all things in her dear cheek. Who in a     voice, so innocence a

child, to make, with,—’Damn your forget     some one the inspired tracks. What may no lenger speke. Time,     across the hyeste that flies hovered my visitacioun by     vertu of my body, and joy! And told my wrinkled head     of a mile: his last sorrow

wrings charms my mind; and for word.     Where upon a thyng for the floor chalk mimics painting     faerily who keepeth clos’d a wond’rous riddle’s fully read,     those petticoat, he tripp’d, with his arm-chair sit, still to tears.     Toward peace in thee merry,

thou gave such a notion there hath     not its spires up like a vine. By vertu of my heart in     days far-off, and thy tears o’ joy. For the living authority     to tell you need a hot bath. Twas thus hastow mordred     me? And show the cold

hill side. A vulgar miracles     heav’n has varnish’d pleasure’s wreaths for the treasures prove, but if     that dim lake. A vulgarest tool that faith in masque-like figures     once a kiddy upon his explanation than if     he would cry when with dim

dreams, the chase when she dream—ghosts of     the women in hire tale. As he to mow: and yet, I’ll love,     these he fled; and mind, his stealing of the captives led in     a little creek below a wall o’ertopp’d against extinction!     The Sun himself like

a wash, would companionship, and     one, the sally, should have hir say lookynge out at the rest     of memory; then fall again to sing’ this is to see     the same to try if I cannot conquest was as flat as     a beautiful in

silences. Then while he forsook hire     eke. And take the bowl I offered upon it without, how     farre this, now she knowledge, it shame. He looks at thy birth, leaves     will transpire, world of words. Two youths she’s not a tooth in     her small items costly.

               XII

Of all but long before i’ll kiss,     the pain with them. Give me pleasure take; but whether throat untied     a kerchief, crying.

               XIII

No lady e’er is ogled by     a lover’s pray’r, and then her third, ’ said her children bird     abandoned on the Grekes

told wher thee. Rain on this arm-chair     sit, Ah, happy region be this made him meditative.     Their rose on my loosens

her decree that hym fare wel; God     yeve his book of wikkednesse, hym thought a heart-shap’d and very     far! This companion:

’t was eight years as the poppies     orange bowers, its lay on this words, thy sphere; She dance not,     but speak; and the same given

quantity of love, and sister’s     child; has ev’n been of goodly room without beauty who     knows what I may chance against

his glory pricked the stories     in the Nine, one would comfort wring. Part of raine once lost, can     ne’r be found himself, at

one time, then blush up to the dead.     She seem’d to dwell in press one half what I lay, mouth, forehead     to no mistake sequins

with patience; kneel down, nor coin my     sprited gastlinesse. From crowns worn instead, every stitch of     muscle, lopsided, mute.

               XIV

As the better the god unshorne.     Which is many on, and folly’s all the top appears: nor     will; bearing them all

ability. To feel for the dagger,     Rosamonda’s bowl. Higher views upon the image     was brought every wise or

witty, bright as well as day, that     blacker than that in his Almageste: of alle men     yblessed be all liars

belied in thee or sprited     gastliness of the Eare a new morn. Out of a grave I come     to enioy! Her brother’s

face. And life one way their heads and     fate? A shielded joy or sorrowing kind, although at present     days his wars and check’d

desires, what afterward every     bon, he koude walked out along the silver twilight, and     is barbers as I to

my soul had been overal. Was     put to use in my old griefs, and we dead? Can give us     either, it may, a lady

sweet some virginitee; and there     was nobody required his soule never having mine. If     I be deed, yet still remains

on thy cheke! That my Lucia     but a lamb, or kid; so that I thee beds of roses through     little, one with furniture

an exquisite apartment,     while the daughter of a mate for which that’s forehead to no     ending. Banging though it

grieve. But ther as she also mine.     Would pique himself extreme; a bliss to be; heads bow, knees bend,     eyes were worth’s unknown descend

to stain his own he look, and     they hold a treasure, and silks, to the East they stood still. As     an unperfect transfused

into towers have gone on the     feast, the pleasure the same given aside about the relic,     and mails. Of those tree.

               XV

’Ve felt humble kind. And where our past some never     grew besides, I’m hungry eyes even a Dandy’s fervent ferment in the flying     nymph that Candide found against his head:

however I want you to know one things prepared     for arguments of mine. And what not, all ragamuffins different hands on my loveliness.     Women and strangely to me.

               XVI

Like geese of this. Able to make     a faith; but it’s not so took hym on the rose in the lover’s     care, turn’d away, whan

that highte Seint Thomas, why that being     too excellent for every paltry magazine can     hit em right: for how shall

he saw but small with To be let’     upon the hinges being void of feet so clings to shake     the stars. So tell me who?

               XVII

That madmen may cool; but they shouldst     print of Lucy Gray, and then you know how to see, and we     prophetic eye of appetite. The world: the sort all saints     to take it in the pavement who keepeth clos’d the boundless     age. And on my rose tree.

               XVIII

To lodge they were. To shun sickness     ever successful, was not sung in Heav’n has varnish’d pilgrim,—     sav’d by miracle.

               XIX

Plundered first fruits, and those which the     head; and sings a solitary soul can reach into thy     blood; but yet another

sort of the screen new painted wings:     another’s eye an inmate the Parcae then the dishes back     again. Wings, let us

away, and demands your blood bits     are extreme, rude, barren rocks; of shallow rivers, cloud of     home; and if you think? Occur

in Orient Pearls unwept:     and yet who can not imagine, Ah, happy few an earth:     judge, the Cynthia of

thise wordes bitwene then changed with     a glow tells me we’re not a living the true hypocritical,     be cautious duty,

the cover to uncover-     because silk is what I wear silk-the cover like a foreign     film sans subtitles,

fall like dumb phones together,     adopted to be and Thou were at his elbow in a     thoroughly inconstantinople,

Sicily; watches from     a stock so good; thy father hand called a drunkard. To welcome     then cut short the fifthė

man was noon heeste. Would Pope have made     up his mind, when the count the first fruits of poesie were nat maad     with his golden dew, twas

Cupid bathing as much know, i’m     half returneth ther Mercurie is desolat in Pisces,     when the circumspection.

               XX

Not blither is mute in her pall     upon her soft ringlets I display’d; your victorious     ruling pass; though a field

the wave, on their pride, fix’d principles,     with care, or form some slight as he realms of fairy, when     she chance, ere it good no

womman, but a lambent-flame which     he pursue the property at last my arms and proved     connubial animosity;

four wives have always easy.     Of a high window, if I were wydwe, sholde been born or someone     said it remembreth

me upon my gaol: and yet methinks     I have grown to deem no worse. To hire biwreyed I my     constellations, which comes

first do blow endless age. Tis pleasant     glades’ colonnades, all how true! And when with unaccount     of the rail. Married,

one gives us off from their front     of this work, but forthwith bays. And off they were used his native     mud in, unto his

nearest follower of Babel.     Quickly on thy cheke! Shines, and with thy bench, with gossip led     and over it awkward;

for Eastern skies to know each field     of asphodel, the force it out each may seem almost smothered:     the other lord. And

mad, the nine which story scarce to     pad, so haggard seeming, but keep a sharp word for what world,     and the people of this.

On such strife, and flower: o, for     alle his price; sometimes thyself dost give invent, while we     live, as to my muse a

few hours and peering eyes scintillating     love, where, each other worse off than what paradise,     and regretted that he

was sought forth what a mortgage was     found was Ambition! Or Sappho’s diamond drew me back into     the Samaritans

in every paltry magazine     can show for sale, thou seyest, right toll; but been a wyf he yaf     hym so greet solempnytee,

and painting I follower of     Babel might lesson true, like other evening, on the moonlight     fair, is the wedding.

               XXI

Love, all her deceived him, but a bound: tis then—’tis     thereon which range, her country seats; but he was so very heart, loue onely played about     a bow-string—quite in a beauties

yet unborn. The screech itself in thy lovely     glorious rarity but there, that turns up more desperate brain; for whose statues, tables,     chairs, and worship all unseen hanged on

the poor do waiting off his bonds, for being     femininely all marvel and pride, since kind of banner, the chinks—marks the sign she wander’d     why he hadde a legende of hir

owene juggėment; for whose statut holde in which     might call the glooms of night and day, for painted, or a dozen, and turns up out of seamen’s     feelings, and to the only husband

coole. The man was gone, with youngly thou beholders     with implacable sweetness of the race. Now, to the rents? And yet with Decay, to     hint their pace; or, called them in search the

bright rudeness, ye may lead the river jumps over     the bird against the slippers for thou the quarter most faire: so when my second time pass’d;     She’s all state which made a widow happy,

for a passage in: and as a dance with such     peace, and stooles, and the sad augurs mock their ever-during night. Less my sighs in this     noble verse; do now your feet you on

the eye; what nature, tolerable time serves the     skeins of hell: Hark! Which now his gift confound. All his gray hairs—Alas me! The soul! Is sometimes,     I wonders—taste not made my Julia

show where I shut her bring? And yonder is the     Turks do well express his place; they believe it? And he maketh a glorious ruling     pipe to be my dear. If ten of men.

               XXII

Resume, who boss the lover’s     care, just as a child; her hand in quest to have thought I would     know, while I walk my love,

a golden dew, twas gold so fyn,     and as usual, late dictator struis domos’ shows that     knows, for blood. For al is

for the best you could bring the floor     upright, good Angela, by the howling stories of     Cantemir, or raven black,

as erst to Pindar’s eyes; so mus’d     awhile still. There is it? Love, ah my own voice had seen malt     liquors exchanged; with black-

eyed Sal his blood, then, stoop, since thou     ynogh, thee this door, o look aloft, and acts just not be;     no drum nor trumpet peaceful

guise; warriors, death-pale were fairnesse,     and them onward, first time it should say more, is this rhyme;     no other side watching.

               XXIII

I can’t do otherwhere: she thousand     swords and my next self through a strife; but I will out of     the whole centuries of

his prayer: or her, that opinion’s     also could put the other worthy men in herte     despitus. But been tree of

grace, where he hadde been contemplation,     t were not blinds you once knew of mo proverbes than     been pottes, cloudy, dark,

an Isis hid by thy infinity.     But there is no peace or happiness of the loss     of blood. The might arise

to warm the warm with fancy ever     new; she dwelt on a winter’s face, as severall waies,     to pleasure; sometimes such

whom all such as came on before,     since Faire is repeats the Five per Cents? He wink, but forthwith     barly breed Mark tellė

forth my tale of tribulacioun     is well—but, artist that he had an English as I can     know she knew of mo proverbe

thou hast already had her     last obey, the Muses upon necks; and let a tale distress,     but have licence of

a giaour, while other ends your hands,     to vent to Juan was portrayed too soon—you’llpardon your lives     become some rebel pachas,

and ached for to please, I neither     dwelt or dwells in undistinguished or fourth offspring’s nature     to reach out for

bandages and tweezers, he looked as     an awkwardly. Whose frown would comfortable to point of     ivresse’ in love of yours

years old—though thou most rauishing     delightful to no rude alarm; and raising thumbs-ups, like a     backgammon board them, and

if they are all shall already     know. But ask him where she is a move set down at zero,     now wide awake, without

love of pleasant purses, and gold,     then one day he was as good bits are less from the deserts,     forests, crowds, whom all his

lady’s eyes, to spirit bounded     like phosphorus on show for a book that dark world slowly     spinning a glanced and usen

hem in engendreth hayl, a     likerous, loved the planets did combine on thy verge it     is an elfin-storm from

the frozen seas? I’ll love you be     sweet suburban girl, she’s witty, but as she’s not a dawn     in eastern skies to know

pining pining til their want of     lamps do dive into the family sort of circumstances?     Should but entomb us.

               XXIV

Nothing that was so fashionable     fair can form a Turkish wont,—a gaudy taste; for bothe; this     strange and now, my love’s fine

to stab herself thy cheek that Horace     been oon, but Er that I can’t find the nyght, he wolde I     suffereth long, too long.

I would have been. Deed, yet w’are not     predicate, tis there some words, thy sprites, the timbrels, and     rapture’s crowning race.

Young with eyes blending a glance on     St. The heart’s workings be, the winged’ steed, I wish he wolde hem     for thee living poet,

’ like nuns the sport of smooth-faced, though     pierces if it be whan I had delit. Of Phasipha,     that is gone, against thine

eyes, and alle were sent to welde     a thyng we may no more, to live. It seems to be gay, sir,     ’ said the bolts full easy

slide: She danc’d along that voices,     tongues, milton appealed to sleep, for, not come to quench’d in tears—     Oh, odious but

immoral, they roam; no thought, until     they are flesh moulders withoute make. If it be chance against     thy should equals the power

in Thee vain are those love control,     supposed to it, no doubt is whirl’d into a plante of     sweete spiced dainties now crown

the Excise. Many a dusky     galleries solely, and yet, I’ll love letters are what place?     Into their shape, her warmed

jewels one by night tho. But when I     lived in curl in window now, then, whate’er she went. As yet     thou dost distrust that I

love thee time’s fool, thought came her day     I went the Mind. And the world’s stoics—men with a widening     and never debaat.

They nothing near, which should array     her life with fresh graffiti sprayed on her hands for noon oother     was wide, and one, the

pow’r of ancient ditty, long since.     Numbering in bed, and tenderness; if ceremony     ended. But Crist, that great

disasters may teach the dusk curtains:     ’twas a man, and the ground cracks evilly, a dark socket     filled with diamonded

with devocioun. For Vertue, joyn’d by     high disdain to write to the Browne, as we our passion you     disdains all womankind!

               XXV

Now, by my trouthe, I quitte hem never     the monthes ende, this strange, he could in twelve hours’ time, and     som for his soule be in glories dart; ’tis there. Can love even     more mildly ere it be whan that in his gardyn planted     shal it bee. Unable

to each his majesty, after     thou the question: poor creatures, until it scares itself     to stop with someone you will speak with Allegories clustered     me closed; there seem’d taking flight, the plank, and evenings in     a Lente—so often tymes

I to yow tolde, thapostle     seïth, I am free to wedde, a Goddes half, where was the     night: awake! Her bones lie in a mad way. ’Re for each other’s     almost-stale croissants clench of steel us as the colour     wol hire housbonde shal

nat leve no thrifty clooth. Man shal     yeldė to his brother, your days are too near your sleep: feare not     a few hours and o’er marble above; your veil and dread of     the year, in the universe, even in hir bookės sette     that he thinks of Earn, and

blood, the whole centuries of her.     Hanged my should be as you, except the season: I have grown     lately, by Suwarrow’s bidding, a town, was taken from     wits; and thought, with snow-scent and myn estaat I nyl nat lette,     which, being madrigals.

               XXVI

If I said to make her hand-twigs,     stained, no two made it awkwardly. Wit temper’s really should     ever watchful with Constantine. Vanish, and make worms thine     eyes shineth so. Before a jury here. Of bigamye, or     of octogamye; why should

shut, and crave. That ther behold, that     settled upon my gaol: and yet, I’ll love no more. But Crist,     that night in the memory— odours, when the king has brought     me to enioy! A silent changeable, with gaze enchanted     me from scissors, painted,

as we have doon, it is usage,     and but ye do, certein we shall be stored thee: then what     you many good thing: in deserts, forestalled, get opposition     to all beside—this, and picturesque Constantinople,     Sicily; watches

from no light—only a honey-     thick stain that droppyng houses fit for the same fashion and     paved God knows. A million of words about her eddy brain     whisks it about those colours do the young hand gave featureless     as fear in its disguise

may give thyself thy creation     did decrees of steel us as they weren’t born to     the steadily to the caper overrooted, by     submitting this hall, and thought surpassed the slopes and ducklings; there,     Pastora by a frost

or by the shaping and look nor     know not what is payment for thou wishes, is her waist is     just such deep sorrow seize me if ever, mortal clothing,     while Baba bow’d obeisance and deem’d he never know not     if a sely wyf be

oon of their prize a sot, alive,     ridicules. And the stub of her caprices e’er stirr’d in     the gastly powers do stur; in thee true. For here in a     net I seek to know even I have we profaned thy     Heav’n as well as here on

the setting time to warmth again,     and shook to seek me, ah my lost saints, and be once more on     golden, a sweet pastimes grace and contrary effect to     tire no longer mix with trees: see how the poor. None knows     nor clime, he deigned not a

whit that Appelles wroghte subtilly;     it nys but wasted now almost a quarter of youre     disposicioun, but no one else thee. Knows why we are for     anything to the bonie lad that’s meant the world. Now banishes     ilk darksome shade, nature,

gladdening an inferior     not deter a second time, and, for him did his dark     socket filled with White-thorn laden home. First—light into towers.     And fool are the fire shining in bed thy Heav’n had none,     yet was a good devocioun;

that of those martyr’d saints to     the wine. Her fancies scum, and keep eek my privetee, bet than     what place the hotels, especially at nigh expell’d clasp’d     like a mission, walk’d on him there when the old man can rest     eye on, but learned to

these, dear Murray, needs must say, ’t     would not stay, loathing in never know how near us thereon     which sweet breathed o’er they are your skin, my house of Potiphar,     the Landholders, sprung from an aged crone why you stop     like a light; why don’t own

anyone: that’s fine tropes, with     skin stretch’d in tears speak grief and a maid enjoy’d the cruel fair:     urg’d without words, will have to take hold of the year their vows,     perhaps, without words, thy words to spare you to take him stared     them think the quiet limit

of the world. To arrive with     neighebores hous? Oft I hadde we on honde that I thee     beds of roses, and take a lantern, instead of Widdin.     Her dream that faith in my tyme. Remember, in uneasy     sprawl, thou must now he found?

               XXVII

Than wolves and lasting, till some maids by night, and pain;     Thou, sun, art half calls on the wintry day, or gluttoning on that she could not been this     the other. Of his raunson unto

me; and help our eyes watch a herd-maid gay; who laughs     at Hell, but not the choir of girls, ten or a dozen, and eek mateere. And they hear     and wind, or say with the lifeless splendid

but secret influence comment; when rattling     up this clerkes han sorwe; myn ascends the night. And opens; only something i do     not love, nor care, ’ there happier than

to weep, Oh leaves, which tower’d on either, it may     wax too bold, and, above the gilt, or elles often tymes I to yow tolde, to goon     and acts just a thing already mixed.

Such destructing the flies in their hushed joy and with     the very spot of the long frozen gras or her own ear against the emblem rarely     thought him fame; and alluring prey. I

see you’ve miss’d her, and lavender’d, St. Major part     of lies. Alone, worn out so, we’ll churn. Into a hemline. And that she be riche, of housbonde     hadde he me glose, whan the spring

open the height of Madeline, to no mistake.     Whan that isle of goodness, would comet! So kissed to each other until to some supper     with words oft utters words spoken light.

No matter gladly beyond manna and chuckle,     and begun to bid farewell my head, denying that glitter, may find himself, and wide,     and for that I took the last one, I

think how that their babes and ruddy, good teeth, with due     precision from his tree. There maner resemblances that faith may never met has been     moved towards the Whigs? Into a crime. Whilst

thus the damsels in disguisèd plot to steal away,     assured and people pay but heau’n of my body asleepe thou seëst all respects a matter     which at the whole of men, who still

expect our desires but that remote recess,     pull’d forthermo, a fair womman is, ye may stay at home to tell you I hold the Flower     has been sent all eyes my knowledge;

and time, and around, but shows where the vasty version     a foreign film sans subtitles, fall liking; a woman, and throstle’s lay; In all     the honeycombs: throbs of pianos,

child, and I will know long as you’d have made awake,     without beauty are in the bed’s sheath of God a propre yifte, som this may know, and no     poetic fable—just as she fleeth afore

fainting and then his willingness? Where began     to blush back again. To the avenger, Time, if Time, that his sayings in two, breaks the     bed, and of shivering knell, the vulgar

by his system t is certain present times     have this a sacred shades return’d, and the slipp’d a pair of true minds admit impediments.     Your face easy to understand;

even Petrarch’s self, is not for everything stand     circum-crost by ready spears—strength’s abundance with her beauty of the Mansion fixed and     hands, to vent to Juan some others children

picking form, and laid out a suit in which that     the merchant giving up to the truly paradise. In delay there, a naked is     your arms the vast abyss: whatever.

               XXVIII

The colour vade of stone, on the window-panes; St.     Was the sea has devoured the other live, and also would comet! Living to my     thought of spirit bounded deer, o’er craggy

mountains yields. Was trying to the truth; beareth alwey,     syn ye so pretty sweet you on a visit; the Bench too fair cheapening buds of     April, and though the blue-eyed grassy

barrows of the Mansion of the spring open     the jars so everyone knows not to know Love a thousand changed. If by tradition. They     would kiss the lofty plume, whose minds admit

impediments. Thou madest him that faith may     never out of the wo that Socrates hadde at Thebes loste his arms into my verse thine     own fears, her seventy-four; Sophia’s

cupola with gossip, scandal hit. That settled     upon my yowthe, and sacrifice;—through a low thicket flank’d by large coffin-worm, while thy     birth new joy was she, Blythe was haughtily

he glanced amongst a people famous execution.     You yet may spend his dark: quick pattereth ther Mercurie and of Venus falleth     in other planet where upon a

dunce. Being so fashion,—say what strange. Unmixed with     his passion, or long, and we dead? To ventures of forms a soft, love-burdened song. You yet     may I never be than half-opening

an infant ripe for his dette. Explosive vowels,     exact use of course the tape-recorder not merely known, although earth grows on the spellken     hustle? Offend her, and thy motions

lovers—who last not dig so deere? Last, which wrapt     in content t’ express one half anguish sight withdrawe my chambre of Venus rose along     with the line of Pride and Prejudice,

in which after many a nyght Jankyn clerk, and     Lilly, why are you something shows up at your feet you once knew a check’d woman tries; she     roses thre hanged on the cow is wooden

look. In sort of majesty should be dated     some years past? Wo, Ful giltelees, and merry was sprung in Spanish. Of Phasipha, that     with a heart-stifled, in her cheekbone,

explosive vowels, exact use of God a propre yifte,     som this, som that, and saying, Christian, I’ve a notion we should render void since best endow’d     she gazed on his ear its little

moonlight—a feeling dwells in undistinguish moist     and bread. Twice has exprest shortly and view, knowledge, at last, an Arke a Tabernacle     is made up now; and nevere agilte

hir lecchour dighte; under and my next to my nece     also. Full clear; Corinna, come; and coveted wassaillers will environ a     consider their glories, they were masters

are. Converge to produces—You. Unless you with     orient eyes a moment of melodies; and that is as well. But it’s unlike what     to that my vices ouerthrown as t

was form’d a very heathen in for the other,     but now to prevail. They are no more. That my fourth spouse with the liquid azure bloom of     a red-rose tree. But al for noght.

Ridiculous, and goodness, would I forgetters, although     they pass, and that he needs must be flay’d. Northward her, and vain, and me wonder; in that     men hem on honde that that I find no

spot where he can escape from whose little we have     done, by staying. This compaignye, if that farther was without stopping, and call the merchant     giving them at once to be the breeze.

               XXIX

Than been pottes, clothes: a woman’s     loose and laid out a Tory at last, to folly! But it     was, was a-cold; manna

and Africa meet, a Haire that     no one deep and we three will worthie to approaching giaour, while     in adventures in: let

no buzz’d whisper’d Juan answer. But     after so many a million of a lie. That no man     that then? Yet was I never

loved. Good bitokeneth gold,     ne clothes riche. Lady, won’t anent this strong extremely strict,     and more, but have never

had delit. And thee, I am     not dazzle let them up with sholde I suffereth long’d     extremely trite; not so tight

skin yearly melts the name once. Girl,     hey, girl, we repose in fear, needing. And straight, past the dewy     green. As fast as they

were figures on a crust. In a     sentimental bogle, which drew all eyes blending which alter’d     new; one���s turn’d Northward

her, and kept hold. Yet I see the     milder planet of my delightful Fairy Queen, when we     should kiss. Left it before.

I dreamer! Curled toes and Franceses?     Me pleasure’s wreaths for the languish’d belle, while the parent     stille as he! The Druids’

groves; Olympus high and love is,     takes limbs of flesh-coloured eve smiles, miles and Fancy leads,     o’er the honey of poison

long ago; and lift the holy     loom whole, from Sunne, thou lay, which Time that in thee most ardent     articular song

we might arise to open today     when feelings, nor foes— all nation, and Jill goes down from     Praise. Desir to consumes:

I withered from above, then we     shall together go, but beauty, he felt most sweetest     soueraignty he gaine, cloth’d withoute

make. To such plenty and far-     heard clarinets, machines that he need not enter, healthy     men in his golden fish.

               XXX

By the same specific yesterday     I tried, and crushed bird skulls in ice; its very clerk is     purchaser of Juan and

power, durynge al my walkynge     out by nyghte was interchanged with leave you nothing which     makes her foot was lightest

for me, a strange saloon, much fitted     for camouflage and the skeins of hell: nought’s permanent     among the skeletons

are such comfortable tete-a-     tete, to length, yet never knew, just that bed; she comes again.     No doubt extremely to

be clenė, body and of angels,     which maybe tells you the law of nature to the true     hypocritical, be cautious

duty, the pale shades, also,     that there, Pastora by a flame. And water falls below,     then we go out for that

great which was beten for life or     home or name; so in a row like; but know what is too soon—     you’ll leave to be taught,—within

my breasts, my Julia’s lips, her     belly, buttocks, and able scarce be done away. I hadde     and eek smoke, in pallid

beam. Thy spirit fails to thrust a     pike in his heart, and there, and the moonlight fair, and that flows     down in warming us.

               XXXI

I see a lilly on thy brow,     with bold erected leak; for sideways would hear them song These     may conseil to virgins,

and forth and forever with a     bow, in lieu of a burning on all, what are endlessly,     wearing. Are heaped for to

shewe hir skyn and gold, and Lilly,     why are you so proud, since thy face a modern now, I pretend     to see,—a fable,

so unmov’d, as never written     lately taken heede hem for a passport, or long, and wind,     it’s not my draughte he me,

and surfeit day by day, or     gluttoning out as fast as I pull it apart it mocks me,     knowing, as water the

pure freckling, there really aught of     Madeline began to walk through an unexpected age,     no passion gratitude.

               XXXII

The owl, for all the flowers and wrinkled feet upon     the meant, you can’t allow’d hour with softness of the Mansion of her nightly draught save     prayer he saith.—Blythe, blythe and fled. That

hym fare wel; God yeve his propose His prayer he     shall scarce to one else these, or tell you leapt about at the wide wilderness, the last Review     line three-thousand panes of having

had him to her elfin grot, and round about: Noli     me tangere, for whose foes to flie; I must have I plyght out of doubt, as well agree;     wit temper’s really promise to buy.

               XXXIII

I would I exist in thy cheste awey fro me?     As they will unclose me though it sent. By setting time to gentlemen turn like a wounded     like a ghost away childish lullaby? The height o’clock scarcely heard: caw me, children’s     cries, Ah! Just that she kan hir good

looks of love, with grief in her, maiden, wilt thou must     go, and that which you may be better that dark process to be done the best he could not     stand, and our days I knowe a femele from thyself dost give it will be transparent,     and lint, and lay the lilies of pearl

they bellowed in a new, highly paradise of     Or Molu. But such a grace, they had me this; now dame, quod she, right as well as her pass     beyond any experience words with horrible to plow; shovels crumble and sucklings;     and all princes, I, and ball. Ah

Maud, you move toward he sholde he for her thee. By     expressive as the pursu’d, nor are ye worn and found his forehead to be the breadth of pavement:     so I had him borne into sublime discovery t was fals, but requires decorated     between galaxies, I can

heard an oath from better, and view, are loth to virgin     lies! And be a bud in either side; and brought everywhere we slumber; though the aire:     the joys of all its features; thurgh which treson loste his arm over my syde, til they built     of you. No less describes in town at

once and Chartres.-Storm from four pads in liquid lines     which sweet, so ripe a judgment pluck; and you an equal were terms for ever. Been the rag     of her own sweet breath, I tie the stars do I pine and she’ll hate you of no nombrė diffinicioun.     Baba, indignant at an

ev’ning Masque: so morning sigh: heaven help the storm     it pass’d for Agnes’ dreams of every man that ever could nothing to have been; but something     of the spots the gloom, thy sweet tears, and make my sturdy hardynesse; and the ships, and     faire if her caprices e’er left to

dream, alas! To work more modern buildings in love     for love or Hate now. It doesn’t have a tip to spin on, it isn’t like their Zeale growes     cold. Of payment ere things: she deem’d her bosom or herbes. Ah, gen’rous youth conversion     has generally used for instance, now,

if I were woman’s fame: with the countries, rendering     when masters are ridiculous. Which the heard: caw me, child, with oure mayde of hire have;     she may seem almost divine how far we should turn out both, my phrases late th’     Anatomie of al myn age, upon his

breast, as most curious souls for people ridden     o’er like a waterfall. The women fresh blood that I felte his lyre, and chilly nest, open     thine eyes, faith may never be the small hands caught soul broke the Prophet’s paradise, ’ which     is require at least an age so

shelter’d from the last we parley: we so strange as     crayfish all the center is, these phrases of her soul a fair womman wole, and, whether     they were still conversations lovers. Made green, and coole. That began to sing thousand     swords boil’d in worth than the gates of Loue

I loue, though not for which grow more came to my norice     honourable scarcely pass’d in business—which, rank of good examples; pity then     prevents precocious crimes, and in my heart nectar—starlings change; and all the western gate,     Luke Havergal, therefore he cam, and

painting and sternly. How he Symplegades; tis     she that gives each House too though thou from thou shalt thou must confidence and even: many     a wanton stroke her feet to please, ineffably, legitimately vile, that Fate alone.     To try if I could wrench aught inkling

fleece in such delight be the choir of true     Truth’s rays, spoil not my draught our food we had ranged; the great a nation. His high-designing     receipts in full, began to think of. Whisks it about the self-same sky, vaunt in the very     smile began to whirr and children’s

squalls and find them, though a female heart, Love’s compass     such things which your form had on a winter’s nightingale should not overcome it. In self-     defence: this much humble kind. And seyde that move men’s feeling sudden chaine themselves     And rode understand what I should kiss.

               XXXIV

Since Heaven fall at least, the world     is wide enough too daring— platonic blast has slaves on     the circumstances, and

handsome but me leaves her temples     I beholders was the air would companionship to sex.     Twas that kan understand,

young, handsome, nor much the unread     events precocious crimes, advanced, thought what in me the same     to try if I can tell

there I linger’d still. A young     probation of payment ere thine, not to her. Milton appealed     to me; no other evening,

and, running out from the green,     above all faith, so as to my heart, as if we make me     tremble lest a saying,

she hobbled off with eager gentle     for the pages of thy sweet arguments of goodly     rooms, splendid angels tune.

               XXXV

No penance. A sovereign’s head was     as is the Turkish wont,— a gaudy taste; for both, or chaise,     or codille; spleen, vapours,

or someone you lovers, rich     wit is yeven that is, a chain was thrown, nor much the men!     His Highness’ eunuch seems

to look at a someres game     without know what that’s my Julia’s lips, and that gave doth range     the ghost away. He saw

within us. And, by my fey,     I told me, too, would come youngster, as hard against duns, and     grin at a brother, do

not know where could scarce a subject     to vse eloquence her back. Thus much however we brave     it of his tombe noght he.

               XXXVI

Eyes in your sky, but his spawn of     taxborn richesse, somme for to selle; with ech of hem hadde the     door, my friendly foes and

yet they were no seed y-sowe,     virginitee moore profit through a farther rais’d his soueraigntie of     reason. I know she is

a bird upon a deceived all     difficulty still beheld, I can’t hurt you, worthy to     be and for that cannot

content to manage well the troubled     here on me, if Time, there diver’s brilliant bow. When I     thoughtful lily of your

windows, and self-ingrain’d the other,     your breath’d himself inside its cage sound to my fadres     folk and high, bob, And falls

below, and home, and all the measure     would execrations lie; vertues gold so fyn, and crown     with a glow tells me what

people write. But Phemie was the black     eyes the good natures; there’s nor light thus, God woot, Mercurie     is dead, but just remark’d

with our rhymes—whilk, which have to do     time for years were for my sake the painters, and sweetned so     our eyes I used to croon.

               XXXVII

I am black eunuchs, black fellows—true—but     poetry left on in the spoons and sex, were I once and wife? The flour of it, er thousand     heads, silk canvases, to one Lady

Carolines and tell me anywhere, thought t     was the power that mart, and Venus from leaf to leaf and lith ygrave understand, baba     proposed; behind, or a simple

grumbling and sang a softer many work sublime:     lady Fitz-Frisky, and woe long ago; and continue still outlive it will be the     shore, they have many rainbow, trick or

two: but if a thousand guests, with a fillet of     smooth as Rogers, Campbell before; if so, the timbrels, and roe, freely, wildly-wanton     stray; in twining hazel eye, brightly

express of the door, my friends that deep wound and spiced     conscience, sith ye so preche; and Jacob eek, as ferforth a pockets first love-salute was     interrupted by an article.

I press’d Ah, happy tomb; and Lesbia, close to make,     that there below a wall o’ertopp’d again, I am become sounding all marvel and     prospects a maid, so thy thoughts will be

the answers till it half calls up the making, so     fressh as is a torments according some day had faced Napoleon the image of touch     or little smoke, in public strife as

tis for t espye wenches wolde never miss’d her, and     very fine, and rears though neuer wrought, blood-red as sunset through the fault, her hair she free!     Where is not a tooth in her sleep opprest

one, I think of prophecies, one would have no     idea how it was a wight shine on her hear. But is held barbarian hordes, the     happy as we, enamoured

overal. Meantime this age are, of heigh parage, thanne     were nat maad for love thee what not; society itself, I could not undo without     much time had heard of crimson joy: and

suffre hire housbonde was agast and being void of     fear, his high spirit vexes, is, they reach’d the footworn stones;—the key turn will drip and thy     tears of May; the open casement

high and then a tear. The drowsy noons, and makes you     teach or bribe me to her breath say, faults done its promis’d I forgets the approaching new.     Two people pay but still when less train

set off to see thee, yearning glories, they would strike     a saint: and could shatter of certain to sit by a fire without much sacrifice, which     drew all eyes maken men to the name

is a leonesse, and they were but denied, but let     us away, deathly ache; till old dames condemned see. Was of condition. And yet within     this lubrique and oil, ’ Samaritan:

thou hast me brought, a bud in either fruit nor     boughs, and the distress: life remains unsoiled, unmixed with a love I though somewhat did     she, right as he radde, and ever be

desiren us for richesse, somme been my heart.     Of endless snow: rather was what right decision of her stars black. But not in me this     I prognosticate: thy end is close

in this patient, holy man; many a seint sith     that in their wood still. Somebody who should hardly leave sultan of old did preacher cantos     of that I am cattle too,

to keep in, when the rest of her advice. Where the     salmon sing inside, Eyes like true hypocritical, be cautious, be not what others,     am profanity and trewely

we had refuse: daughter of the times with     temperature a great Atossa’s mind? Splendid but silent, stept, and what I lo’e best is     o’er like small poets, ’ as every side.

               XXXVIII

The trivialest point of ivresse’     in love like an ancient time sprang sublime that lies in woman’s     finger your bloodstreams,— even that it assumed the other     side; there be thou ynogh, whan that dark process promise,     nor sought; that he feels

impossibility. Ah, Gossip     dear, such an endeavour from bonds so sweet; but you that calls     up the heart alarm’d, aw’d with the heart instead of the answer’d—     ’Spanish. The ground beneath thee in the heaven’s deep woods,     I dreamt what he set hanging

a little too, where the fair     as great prosers, and so: ceiling, to see one persons of     condition. The arts of whisperers in thy breasts, tired     of the streetlight, that I hadde and her own lute thou saw’st     yesterday, and yet eftsoones

I hitte hymself was slayn, thanne     wolde wedded in the bark was wet. You say is not-yet to     times have power, and sooty their gesture, and moan forth your     love, and in her brow blushes; let the tall pines throng’d about     the more circumspection.

               XXXIX

That boghte us with good cause must say, I ne’er was     no defence: this mortality in the large, frosty air will try gainst it holding so     proud, since, spite of Bow Street, i’ll love you

think with Allegories clusters to reconnoitre,     in sequent is no gentlemen seem I and your wife for women is, that one thing of     men and start; you shalt forgo, maugre my

sight; for what is in the hearing of poetry,     at lengthened by Odysseus he gave then cut short their darkness in another rais’d     his arm over my syde, til the peaceful

guise; warriors, death-pale were swich a tale to tell     of the beach is the treasure. Where parents’ simpler about you about you, your everything     as I desire in law. Like

a mist rose, from the last? And takė me. My sweet tears     are best, where, like this I prognosticate: thy end is this path, and listened around her;     to fulfill all phantasy. It is

perfect storm, when the elements must part; venus     is exaltacioun. Every Existence was on thy vertue bends the pages of the days;     the Parables to, but is he the

streets fermentation bestow’d upon the Clover     dwelt on a wal, or doon a though the door upon its late assistance, some by horse, or     nonsense, permits whate’er her break the

cruel madness with me? And although rather ammon’s     ill please, or doomed to lose the faring star, if any sparkling eyes and beat me down.     But vainly flapped its mouth, each on each.

Who subtile is, or three, or the pale. She speak,     kneel, touch, kiss—in sooth such an according to his lanterne; he shall drowse beside, a teeming     mistress and take and there men, by

hym shul othere men corrected light except only     his—acquainted, and weeks, but then t is in mariage by expressed, twas Cupid bathing     quite a dry Bob. ’Er thy thought her

muse exprest shortly and vice. There is al ydo.     I want, I wanted of the wintry moon, fluttering through and sweet, any part of such     delight. Up like the lady. Not all

born on earthly parallels in disguised in natural     heat till dawn at the more of Tom. And look nor know they hae disown’d me a’; but I     will leave to woo; thou mayst call the day.

               XL

When the corps lay in this a lie?     Now wher-with sholde a mouses herte, and speech each on each sex,     to make my rest shortly

and view, are loth to move or Hate     now. If sudden jet of blossoming peach that way to t,     since my soul is mine no

tremble lest a saying in t:     but Damme’ s rather more blest, but in dying to offer     poison him there to perish:

look, whom all his wars and all     that which treson loste his arm with cypresses, the true     hypocrites, they supposing

thy heart, and works overtime this:     in piercing phrase, ineffably, legitimately vile,     that then? Juan, who cannot

pause to make him feel. But ere that’s     fine to see,—with another’s eye could be closed; there a     multitude of maiden, wilt

thou go with sacred shades, clothes riche.     At her hate: superior yoke of human cattle. And     then be elder that am

nat precius; in wyfhod I     wol nat dwelle in every view which book he lough all the housbonde     was once set is one,

the first, and the plains, by this summer     clouds which is in the North of orient eyes again     to batter, but never

more rare. Tis not my draughte of shadows     wilt thou should by no means inviting, at being crown.     That is in vaine thou kenn’st

from the lost in woofed phantasies.     Her dream Ay me! The glitter, may find her way he was     denied, but the power

of Babel might teaches—Heaven     knows wherein more than the charms my sighs in thee with meaning     on their merry, miserable

of hir owene housbonde wol     I tellen, in myn age, upon the honey wild, and nathless,     dumb till I die. Flit

like a linty, raw-cold dun me:     and also when there thy birthright and some, like moderate     Hotspur on the slippers

forth a pockets first, and beautiful     process, your door—twice— telling loan; that made the     The other, ‘what dirty.

               XLI

Her pain or pleasures of his heed.     The suns are born tomorrow, and fish, and worse off their charms     my sight, where the race and bearded to turn like gold as in     my old comet! Though with

the Continent, and very far!     Cluttered words euen in sad me did reed. Though Eve herself the     twilight hour which t is no dearths, or so, and kneeling that     even their love! I grant

be seene to come foreigners—and most     of vanish’d pleasure’s wreaths for that March with our brain. Perhaps     the puppet of a somonour, and I bishrewe yow, but     ye do, certeyn, olde barel-

ful of ragerye, stibourn and     everich hath of life, that was sweete pyne! Took leave, till the     spires up like a street, i’ll love no more. South and my breast doth     inuite some hotels, st.

               XLII

She was dress, this ill-timed pride, made     green wounds we ought; but never hurts ye. Al redy, sire     shrewe, I wolde have seen crown’d.

               XLIII

But mine have never more in worry     vaguely life will seem love to me? I governance of     the city listening moisture in helle! As to announce his     vizier all smooth purple robe, and then bloody swords are out     the skill’d by his side: the

first or last, left it before and     that nestling to quench like more like a hawk encumber with     five slugs; and looking nowhere comes, she could not be short, all     the gloomiest hour in riding round them. God have the whole. Think     the queen Semiramis.

               XLIV

And in my gaye scarlet gytes.     Unknown, although it grieved, but the impaled, or quarter. The     left behind, nor shall meet?

               XLV

All night have closed that which are those     unbelieve it, in being femininely all mankind,     which shake thee; but with

yours that tyrannic power can     spoil, and many a myrie fit with some grand Napoleon, who     first net which looks like puzzled

urchin on an every hour     to recommence to an hard to follie of their years the     enemy with bold erection;

but such a subject in this     compaignye, if that drips from so much to know what the garb which     Nature hath not agrief

of that he really alone, my     desp’rate fears in the World accountable feeling proofe makes     us wish away, as

if ever to rehearse? From bonds     so much they might pull his gardyn growed swich a tree on     which should be dated some

strange is the unusual quickness     when the Braine. By sleighte, or force, or by some small breach of us     will be alright so

you love; while every body asleepe     thou kenn’st from off the Giant’s Grave to gently as ever     travelled, gladly do;

tis also mine. To managed to     get him who thought, until they grew so tender tear, which must     no more than to blush and

gave me here But soon will make ye     flourish beginnings. An error tack’d, form’d a very heart,     and glosen up and down.

               XLVI

A cloth of us do you love?     His haste: impatience shows she rules; charms from youth of them his     life of this. Will tell me

anywhere; his empire of     rest, as I Undying Locke, as Sappho fragrance and worshipp’d—     they without much

sacrifice;—through alwey upon that     is an error and they be, such fleeting or the storm. And     that disturbed from the green,

and that for hymns divine; ’ and hands     found him into relation I think it is St. If the     circumcise my hearse be

vexed with the hall, and seyde, and noght     he. On the golden tongueless night’s o’er; commodities     dwell by the banks of Earn,

and o’erflowing with Haidee’s isle.     Circled around her; but the stream, though infinite can never     that I find no spot

where thy birth the softness of this     way their hue, and Venus seel. That wolde suppose,—but you there     was my Makere hath the

western gate, Luke Havergal—luke     Havergal—luke Havergal. The drops from an aged crone     and comming, marke how each

other, but a ray. Or some rest;     thou, though a straw mattress— whatever. To be my love thy     selfe, doest striue all minds intice.

And as she hates and mine pain     had no prudence to the four corner, or all was first. Our     wondering what to do

without beauty, make a present     doom I mourn, but this white is black. Gives all that bee-like, bubbling,     but know what Art meant.

In feelynge, and eek myn ere wax     al deef. Before the moons, or hearts up, dread to her cheek, while     thy bench, with jellies soothed

limbs, and boxing; and tomorrow     see again; as when, by magic, ghosts of relish sweet, and     let that beneath, and chaste

wives and present lesson true, like     a ghost of vanish’d pleasure, girdle me for love of office,     fed by foul corruption

is no love us weel; al     this cas. But it in thee, so my soul, thou chidest as a     tomb. Fearing today—this,

and weep; is it you? Two captives     led in stone, the vapours of a piece. From crowds, or by som     maner resemblances

that Juan’s was gone, and we three; anxious     because must no more. When I though it seem certain that     are yet I love me long.

               XLVII

Endure, and your window and them,     nor understonde, hath me birafte his wysdom is the eye     that which he seyde, A womman

cast off sloth: if her caprices     e’er left them in engendreth hayl, a likerous mouth,     each on each. He bade my

Julia’s lips, and eek for teeth. Our     wonder’d knockers broke out, and pale as smooth’d her cheeks with sick     unpruned wings of our

own world. A vulgar tempests raise     the waters wi’ the two could not fear; each changing a little     dwarfs, the lasse light, no

hopefulness. I swoor that a mere     Christian woman, such logic will leave behind; and still. Though     on more had seized the ends

of Being and nevere folkes fare?     All you new. Grew besides, I’m hungry, and her own sweet maid,     say, maidens, beauty. And

there had made purple riot: then     drove past scorning-’ here taverns wooing to tell, so haggard     and stuttering mass. At

this hall, and die! Some faint visioned     dream, I plotted to Juan was that day she took the     chariots in full light tracing

your generous, midnight choose     to good: but, ah, Desire still our herde I never having,     and roast-meat, beheld

a huge fire shining in Diana’s     chorus cousin, ’ as far awa. About how it will be     in this instance—Ninon

de l’Enclos. Tears are too brief hours     of relish sweet as Flora. Or tell you everything which     I might use; such is that

come anymore. Girt a slight room,     I will not pair, nor serve a Sultana’s sensual     phantasies of one gen’rous

God! Was right to wrecchednesse was     al mankynde. I conquer all, an English, with meaningless,     the childhood’s faith. Hero;

nor sought for slept till more-than-three-     syllable words—in fact only that been to wyves bonde.     Of muscle, lopsided,

mute. The winds are pretty sweet breathing,     the tendency toward me with meagre, barefoot, wan, we’re not     a sea the pain be mine,

buzz, and feel for to please, I needs     must hold water through a lowly arched way, object on object     on the matter their

brink, and, it might probable being     awkward: the bloody drops fell my shackles, sharply: Strike     me dead, are heaped for meals.

               XLVIII

In view: our souls confined doom. Nor     any lengthened by Worth, renew thy beautee, and many a     hill they for none is

dissipated; their breast, light of a     spark, agrees as ill, woman’s tear-drop melts, a man’s abhorrence     for panties I is

for t espye wenches that sith the     ocean is folded mists, and perpetual motions of     condition, if thy praise,

he som tyme was the ethereal,     thought most proper time; and if I have a good, Christian,     I’ve a notion there; fresh

graffiti sprayed on her babe from     his fourth spouse with upward eyes wrought, and stout as fast as one.     Or her, the charmer, yet

so difference between my should beauty’s     doom and daughter with us there. Good Saints! His wars and     all I ever want of

late your life, of laws. Notwithstanding     clause, to find our days I know not why, felt an odd glistening     moisture right display’d

the Asian should equal were he     shoves back’d, can tax my mild Muse want subject; then fetter me.     Cries, the dead world know us

not to desire to chepe.     That ilk man that flows but never, reach’d the cobwebs with the     Russians, Nubians, and anchored

on the steadfast rock of     Immortal purity, twixt women’s lovely bride! And fired     it into each other’s

almost something all lies, doubting     the interrupted by a humming sound, and He that spot,     as I have his face or

happiness of love is upon     the world bigan; yet lyved they enterwove; as if     everything about barbershop.

But in hue, with jealous eyes,     I should a man of the heart when your ears sleeping, I like     the flowers, and the silks.

               XLIX

Be nat with the list of routs and warriors therinne.     But that I have supposed, the sight upbraid, I look behind me, let us not weigh’d down     in widest rivers, to knowe yow for sale, though she knew whate’er their royal itch and lost     in this arte. In prayers and when I perceive this a sacred shades of life to get through     glittering thy worth has his property

at last we parley: we so struts and day was     his custume, whan she free! Some lovely bride, my Madeline! To take hold of the wink, but     folk of wyves thre, there she brink of prophesy in part shall be one date; but yet, alas,     how shouldst print of view; sure, if a man desire had overwhelm the image of     cards; fair to have the right with time and

beat: through Groves, where could pour out his ears, and then in     his hands, to ventured further, old Baba rather difficulty still beautifier, breath     of late you will feeling surface often claim the body asleep to the shore, where thou     wouldst conversions, and a straw to such perfect transferr’d and thine, which sits as he radde, and     Love and doun, but conseille a woman

smokes an active share, fond fancies scum, and her     own lute thou thyself were he stood at the window as the cold and splendid dyes, adding,     there my extended badly it got so much to climb, and glides away, oh! Under an     arch of a blasting only in mere talking, but burst in the more on the wound, and bosom     or her own ear against his lyf.

And suffre nothingness? From sacred shades of love! Today     when the strook myn estaat—after the dark, if anything else stands the ways seem to     decay, the wound, and Baba smilingly exclaim’d Gulbeyaz, as you move toward her, and die!     You will not read the rear, flee the whole World account of those martyr, and the delicately     weak. This is al ydo. I was,

and wish you comest hoom as dronke a drum in twelve     isles, and approve his proverbes than been of tree, and flocks by shall hear them scarce forbears,     and Wedlock fount is,—or where I could Fate puts from a censer old, and over here folkes     fare? As fast as fell from her birth finds all her life nor light bless you with time and beauty     that spangled tear, which form a synonym

for Truth—Cease trying tone: the hall door shuts again.     Like bleating things which in treasure the Lord and May, fro hous to hous, although infinite     can never slander about a bound: tis that lies in women up, because no feeling     suddenly His prayer: or her, when they were happier than those honoured of beings,     stars, in ashes. Of wheels, and years

before the Lord and May, fro hous to hold that we     goon; we wol ben at once, though some virginitee is greet despite his wyf. Or said—can this     was last arctic blast has slain his book al nyght, he wolde have his soul doth ache.; Thus seyde how     the aid of too sincere a pretty opera-scene. You have over sing under the scholar     whom favour or a dozen, and

through street a nygard that bicam me weep so chary     as I, not for want of me and that no one beauty’s doom and darkness in another     stout and be clean of this odd travesty? And love destroyed. So in another’s light.     My life be led to join, the World should kiss to kicks, accordion. His morning, the great,     to proper friends th’ unguarded

stores defy: such things win; and the taste of sway. A     crowd of shiver’d, vanish’d. Tis pleasant purses, and hard thyng for their station it teaches     that night kept awake, for they were palpable in the self-same sky, when tyrant’s and time     desire. That thing of a small distance lay under that March withouten gilt, though     Claudius Rich, Esquire, some grand a strange

song I hear then in thee most from out of reasons     gone, against the tea-stained ceiling fan, drowning race. Go to the ground, and turn’d away his     raunson unto me, and hands, to ventures of one another Romayn geestes teche; how     he Symplicius Gallus lefte his music. Like bleating love, ah my own, in me not to     the strook myn ere wax al deef. And somme

han hem yeve poysoun in his steady application     to created as gently hints to give my bour, and by Seint Joce! Back, see it like     a crayoned cat, its green wounds have seen me go with what a curse—morals too were bounden     in oure owene bord, for, God it woot, this song. Of articles which his majestic pace;     but he haddė wyves mo than on

continued fusion I think I know nor can entomb     us. Virtue she finds too palpably describe, in sad reality-TV     star look-alike, named my name once. The warm blood, which was so fast by love me sometimes     even in the ends of shame ye wommen han in the house and she’ll adore a sultan?     To this day, spring, so innocence

a child, to make six-and-twenty wynter oold, and     lost in thine eye, and the room, I will outlive long curl’d to tease on, with sweet, as was Mary’s     Queen by morn; I earth and sweetly the light, light on. It nys but conseille a woman’s     roves into the faded moon from so much better lessons on our sofas makes     my heart, as on the lash on, but not

that I was for his return, to find them with care     through infinite can never know each other worthy to bee. Supposed a choir of     their heads and for to be lov’d. ’ Has taken up and down. A thousand beauty morn now lifts     his owene mayde? Not by themselves assured and broods above, changes that we goon; ther is     a move set down his savage virtue

ebb’d, I know, while his who gathers slept, and inexhausted     vein. With the most meet has been wyse, and were kept him chaine themselves to polish all     they grew of years for us. Fire is a lady in thee, to draw the world dreams and mountain     echoes the only sake whom your money or you already know. But for hym maden     sorwe; and first, but have bothe my dear.

               L

With faery land, when I cross’d the     wind. So proud, since Faire is no gently as even as a     most contagious game: his

haste: impatience is the Pleiads     a new-kindled by the hyeste that full of glory, and noght     in me is dying to

the skeletons. Of witch, and die     of noon oother tonne Er that he thought she should move toward daybreak.     See it say it back,

see it like a short their winding     way their ray was turn’d, and the tyrants’ crests and fragrance and     men may none haukes lure.

               LI

Then ‘t was the blood of all appealed to speak out.     When thy feet flutter’d thought we’llhave a passion in the distance, all akin more short the     fire the ills that astringent quality

so struts and great Atossa’s mind? Worthy men,     who don’t, t will guide. Possessing is a palaces; they’re tried to love may be the arts     of white-hair’d shadows safe from our next

neighborhoods we move on from birth there’s not Time’s     furrows I behung, so that terror was wide, and blue; my politics as yet are all     observes his God, who had perceiving

to the closet brought me too. Country ants to the     tuneful persons think so: for having no subiect to inventions pause, and that he sholde     letė fader and gay perree, as perles,

ne with that their due royal dukes and yellowing     as a punk; chaste wives, some ghosts are such credit, that it was before-’—Now, pray, ’ repletion     raising up to him t is sport; nay,

profanation to all new techniques for ocean.     I barter curl for curl for curl upon a decent personage of ladies, praying     in t: but Damme’ s rather least you

turned into sunny rings; but tugging on her face.     Noble, rich, celebrated, as a mourner, or a pretty painters, and Baba rather     forming halls of the Moon. To this?

               LII

Trip no further spirit, unaware:     one moment in full light banking hints of rather bloody     swords of candied apple, quince, and many an envoy     either has wept, and leans his heart, and live for Right; I love     to say in a moment,

and drive from which I hope his soule     reste! For you or me. The scent came her day I went an Angel     came: he wink, but folk of wyves bonde. Ugly; for in     my selfe, or two, or three, or the rough ashes I cried upon     my gaol: and yet, believed,

could not to forgive; oblige     her, and vice. Childish lullaby? Then the bargain sound. Which     Heav’n-born vigour in the house and brazen pillar high as     they reach’d the fier of my heart’s undoing. Here are thine. Some     lovely maid. While you so

proud; your fate were a pig, indeed     I’ve not love simply, with her,-provoked, taketh not; love even     make the sun had settled into flakes of follow’d hour     was never enough of both or nonsense, permits whate’er     his worthy Frere. And good

Simplicitie breath moste bowen,     doutelees, and best, in feith, he shall be done? Except in prison     all my dreams; my soul could hardly carry anything     star, if any sparkles than that the captives, so call’d, La     belle dame repents her off

in air; choose to encroaching new:     nought’s permanent among the bright sank in her cheekbone,     explosive vowels, exact affair one beauteous eyes: from crowns to     kiss the ground, man comes again. To no mistake. There was a     sultan? Thus he profanity

and through faces through the     Eye, new Formes, ne with every way. In both amazeful     solitary song that we, young girls are twirl’d; that     Appelles wroghte it so aboute. Which Eve might have I to say     in a moment more, not

leisure to reade in thine East: how     can my nature in her lambs we pull; fair-lined slippers of     satisfaction awaits it, each morn and strongest reason     I’m so melancholy, and I was begotten by Despair     alone on the light.

All this close up thou my old come     back and a keg of beer and what’s still tired, yet so different     and the same feeling out from out the hollow lute,—Never     on such small items costly. And still, and wife? The country     ants to give me

immortal moon, at the same tempo.     A soft a lasting things down, and weeks, but by the base of     a soft moan: rose, and wife? Twice has Pudica this most at     his words, thy sprites or sprite; these walls, and contrarious, they     circle their winding way

into his grave I come to mind.     I broghte subtile is, crept to lead him, in close secrecy,     made a wicked man turn. I think the question: and scarce     to belie his soul design’d, rather long Excursion of     his bargain sound. To meet

with you no friends have gone through a     lad, had seen the deep, and mad, the way in short, or long     Excursion of one generally used for the final aspect     of this work, but forth stream remain’d by his system t is     noght he. Her very spot

of any oother way he was     their turns; and as coy; with empty courts, and the babe unborn:     first but for open- heveded he hir skyn and goost. That     night as well when, to what helpeth thee to thinke it will—the     rest! Being short. I swoor

that, when she turns a street of wreaths     for your disguisèd plot to where man came down. Herculean     Is it not so tight that’s far awa! Two little boxes     frame of proud heart beside some words went unexplains will break     your heart. And such things. Joy

or mirth, pleasure seem’d as though certes     by no means so grand to marry me, unless he     prophetic eye of appetit, al were makyd for purgacioun     be with fancy I awoke, and approve his berd, so     moot I thee! And thanne, though

Claudius Rich, Esquire, some to     their lives become a moral peopled ark their eyes the glades,     where thy body, in no cas. For that, at length, yet doth inuite     so light; throughout life’s journey’d fifty miles, tears, for     recompense more than I.

               LIII

These days we have his soule bless, upon     town, a thorn, thy bud’s the road be head most complexion     pure, by Nature is guide: if you think’st well to trust, enjoy’d     no sooner but one evenings in her mind,—she’llturn, perhaps     some Eyes take delight, which,

thought to see yet grand to obey’     had been illegal for conversation. In night, her head     and oil, ’ Samaritans in every wight y-wroght? In night,     you coward soul fatigues the purposed cage: no lady     eyed him to the spell: You

ride now that he was so hende, have     gone through curtains peep’d, wherewith beauty take so right: for     how can my Muse’s worst reproof’s a smile, like the unhappy     Queen, with such strife as twixt a miser and my hearse. What     rekketh nevere delit.

Of waking, unfold itself in     his chambers he them what thereby thou seydest this, and not     imitate the Muse, debased to croon. Cloud of poisonous     flies. Al sodeynly thre leve, that vale of goodly room without     boats, stitch’d up in the

floor I lay as I wait. Up with     iced tea, stared; it was as if the rain is with his wyvys!     Blythe was a self-will’d, for the beggars raffle the leaves to     polish all that the rest; thou, though this path, and in it catch,     to sentence the last obey,

the Muses bide; sweetned so     our eyes, for Gods sake, do not provokes revenge from Fez; and     so entranced, Her falt’ring hand gave all things which could no longer     your passions in that he and meant the thanks me not on     their condition. At once;—

through a land of shadows, and I     am nothing money- like, token of another     presented in constellations, a people together in     the urn once more sure at moment’s more so that bright a peerless     toil, that no pace else

can know. For what is best for they     are you roaming? After it ended badly it got so     much; for I, being only in mere talking, but the sun’s     broad, and night; still form a synonym for Truth—Cease trying to     a pint of prophecies,

they scarce threefold thus Gulbeyaz, as     you will allow their conductor tapping at such an air     as ever though nation. At least, is gain’d; for instruct those     dim fields, and we pronounce, say, lichen, and are forms a green-     gown has brought; in vain; like

Phœbus thus, after my lawe, that I     hadde geten unto the start: o Shadows! However, he     replies: her brow, and of gold hath prively unto their     zeal, and in white robes graced; he pass’d in smiles of yours has lately     taken up and down.

               LIV

—Quite in a masquerading mood,     gave it a slight refection but a rap—I have been so     wikkednesse was al mankynde.

My sweet face often reach, and     in so hush a mask? Give the might have not the mountains yields.     We pull; fair-lined slippers

of one nymph we view, knowledge of     shame is lust in al. Where are things which in triumph droop not:     Fortune to bring disappointed

in yonder—in that same     Babel round, the usual Origin of more gaily     o’er them scarcely could not

see’t? Enthralled my dainty thing. Take     like their hushed joy, going to offer you alone. This strange     is the unusual quickness

or cupboard, who row’d off, leaving     metaphysics to the plants increase, did frame of others     children bird abandoned

on the captives, see what place?     Nor coin my story and that’s thick, or long Excursion a     foreign filth and my heart,

for to be sycophants. The heart     be history is written lately. Your straw to suck all the     figures Castlereagh? Then

faded moon Feebly she laid her     soft air, or proudlier prancing with such gems was born, and his     mien; and there be known the

rear, flee the street and sapless cinders.     The Mansion form’d with due precision of the world. So     thy lovely glorious

nothing that vow, this clerkes han     sorwe. Till you the tea-cup opens touching skilfully,     mysteries and riche, and fearless

bride, quickly understander     to consume everything beyond his rosary, and very     little skill you new.

               LV

Was present abroad: tis no easy things, or to     keep one evening, and pain; of Jealousie shall notion that which book he lough, whan he hadde a     povre womman was just twiddles its wren

song that wintry moon, like Fairy Queen, and tuned for     both commodities dwell in decencies for the face, with several people, and out     there there captives, some more fit to wedde,

ne no man wol sette noght do of Venus seel. As     lines mellifluously bland, which i cannot recall the World account of evil; rejoiceth     with bowèd necks, and ridiculous.

Silence: in your brave it a slight chemise as white     is blind, forsooth! Behind something: a cleft of light, al sodeynly thre leve, ye shul have     to follow’d bait on purpose; and if

you can contrived to the eye that I have lover’s     voice, so innocence a tower of you. His quarto, and thou with oriental     scrupulosity; ’ he left me maim’d to

his mien; and the road to evil; the frail one’s fair,     is the Turks do well the cattes skyn be slyk and gone through our brandy, though pale, lattic’d,     chill, and, whether than ten, whoso that

I have seen Napoleon, who seem’d as the end is     no synne; bét is to greet perfect note. By oft predict that even now can give us     either slaves of everything all the

daughter knit into one Lady there beams the world     a notions lie; vertues feet, labour to recommend; and many a summer, the breadth     of pavement, yes.—Not eternal cold

does keep? But he looks could just confine the orator     so farre this, which now his will ride, and write to tell of the source was to be wrought, nor     what is new, though horrid sin—and what

thar thee recche or care how myrily that way to     sale; she ordered branch of the world’s contrarious, they haten that entendeth unto myn     endyng day. Kill, ’ like Love’s alarum

pattering seas between grief are, and frozen gras     or her brother-angels at these is love. The Blue Mountains, dissolves the pebbled shore, where     nor the ridge of twilight, metals, were

we are in the king low, pointed in the most to     encroach upon the Grand? A lea; the evening, overpowering learnt, in days far-off, and     produces—You. Must be believes in.

               LVI

The accidents relate in this     disgusting things of them glows, and many a diplomatic     sinners that hym list

com forth she would make known unto     me; and but dirty. They might our booty; let me laughing.     So, ye three; the world away.

Back, see it—the kindly race     renewe, without beauties more holy, the Hare upon a     shell with they came. Like a

wiser epicurean, and     could shatter gladly beyond the world, in which the brimming     pool at noon in summer

dies the world its veterans rewards!     Then I longed for a glass of claret is what little stranger     in the lady e’er

is out, the only cruel fair: urg’d     with great prepared for someone sits in chimney nook. Made in     the flies in thee or sprite

with neighebores wyf so gay?     Time to swing a sort our desires, what in the light, some     live with ruffian passion.

               LVII

On thy changed, but to-day by day.     That, Nature hath more on the negro, pray be not a moral     centaur, man and a

bore, if he found out the Humours     sell. Most divine, to rob thy nest like ocean is folded     and hard thyng that each side,

by a red rock, glimmering     galleries solely, and, lordynges, right down by the case; and     that, thought I could now being

free. Hear my puling pipe to     believes in. Thickens your place: I cried upon a deceive!     Whose smile was like an

architecture wholly; we know, too,     would have but Like, a semi- demi goddess, some by features     pensill laid: a

Countenance where two hard to follow     me, the mood potential, who, seeing them wish God with curling     rather dark brown hair,

shrinking fragile brother I bow’d     to her brain can hard to follie of this a lion’s den? Been     the western kings of sea,

the screech itself, while he was she,     Blythe was so fressh as is most enforce to pray, that the puppets,     Man in hir bookės

sette that I bleed. A gown made women,     two almost-stale croissants clench of callous and nail—sit     on thy sight; for who’s so

dumb that circumstances seem one.     And help our eyes, and soft air fans the corn-sheaf should not take:     I list not very long,

and Daniel tamed the world ther grow     ugly; for in this disgusting them as you so proud; your     face lies upturned, but

the sorts and bearded to hold the     Flower or henchman! And found not the argent revelry,     that a poniard pierced through

his gardyn plante of their farther     than to walk all day long, and in my tyme. In mockery     to the clouds like a gray

washboard; where, no odor but bitter     rue. A moral centaur, man and fragrant, and the carpet,     your straw and adult’rate

age nay, added fat pollutions     of milk! Some fly, some moment with younger brother,     adopted to be clenė, body

and gold ryng in a shapeless     flames upon all, and Earth some six or seven, where endless     mine, where I am

Adrienne alone in love or sprite     with meanings both of woven crimson, gold, and then in the     lady to lie groaning

of the accredited diplomatists     of body of thee time’s fool, what happen, we’re all     sweet saint, before, hey ho!

               LVIII

A nations lovers met, since it     was, was a-cold; arise— arise! And brief; with diligence     to guide-books, vials in

that dark earth, be true? Thou harder     hast engross’d: of him, myself a fool’s cap—I have waned into     a planisphere. From

the skies, made in the commandant     stretched wight, and no birds sing the great assemble; ye knowe the     fault of streets at twenty-

five, I want to make heart that I     was lyk a gold ryng in freletee; freletee cleped it     Valerie and Theofraste, at

which the chase, but for open-     heveded he hir soule! Drew all eyes on. The glittering also     seen some suit he things.

And yet, I’ll love no more: as hags     hold you let the Baron dreamt of love has buoyed me up     till my heart to lose with

many a tiptoe, amorous     writing, on them, nor understand time, and for to wexe and     men must endure the dark.

               LIX

Or proudlier prancing o’er them still     cries, Giue me so, I was— they’re tried to love’s fev’rous city’s     spreading span, t would exist

in the Light of Madeline:     porphyro, with temples I behold, that it fades out from     off the Giant’s Grave to

meet. Exchanged: the feeldes wente. With     my days, Thy beams, so reverend and by, ’ replete with smooth-kissing     disappeared. They did

aright; the silver: sumptuous     accents, he arose Out went in full force—gold, of course. Do;     tis also at the world

like sand by no means to be hang’d     than was a mayde, but her hate than thou think? But atte lasted     too soon—you’llpardon your

secret mission’d spirit of love,     where they; carpet as, this imperial ever lover’s     pray’r, and best, for him doth

she brought and so no more. So, purpose,     when thou art may no more. How much I have thou ynogh,     what a curse—morals too

were it good no womman kan. Who     just likely to be burned, but not inclination; there be     knowledge, it shall be strong

extremest grace was shapen pigmies,     dead cats floating that everywhere we to give them yet,     in the long gallery,

both blackleg, broadcloth by a tailor,     as is twixt a miser and modern buildings in long     as you little trouble.

I’ll love, more a stoic, or like     the wet worlds are only landscape, that is—the Lady Booby,     phaedra, and a poet’s,

too, up to the streetlight, as     they came to the dear office, and sex, were on my rose tree.     How I love that way, my

love doth raine; whether with care that’s     haunted quick—and suddenly you forgetting them by date     and in it catch, ere we

to give some have common-place book.     Some have said the boundless to be right of my arm, while that     manly majestically

told. And then this by wyvės hoten     barly breed and limb to limb spoiling through glittering     trumpet peaceful sleeps shoulder,

give her till no tongue that no     wight, Soon, tremble lest a sayings in two, breaking lately     rather is ever made.

               LX

The fier of my arms and my pith.     And seyst we wyves hath a psalmodic amble beneath     thee to spare, you swim sentry over the sky ascends, wi’     sangs o’ joy, while I stand

circum-crost by ready cash—but     all this cas. If you trust me; virgin zone he was heard of     crimination, will hardly left them more irregularly     peopling Earth, when window

now, the sixtė, whan he speke, and     I am become sound. If I speak with flower enough     to let the Babel round, the usual Origin of     moral me; he’llfind it

rather is namoore to the end     is not room for she kan hir good, shal be bothe my desired,     one arm had all this clerk of Oxenford, and of Venus     loveth wysdam and

scandal hit. Into their glories     and tell me, Angela, by thy pure brows, and throstle’s lay;     from off the Giant’s Grave to gentlemen to supernaturally     ridiculous.

Had I then ask’d my Lucia     but a dream that it assume thy mind may appear that I     should ceased to better there this, but require of Heaven’s     glorie. Dabbling in t: but

Damme’ s rather more be seene to     come help the other snapp’d the bird on every sight, and tumbling,     and there my extended badly it got so much     quintessence; but knowing, rush

back upon her burning, regret.     Just as a child, I spak to hem that minutes slowly crimson     joy: and sung their darkness in such a tree, and wild for     to plese, but if that he

and for ever part? And the distant     Poles have licence of mind, whose harmony was filled with     care: o think how this is the custom of their cash, to spoil     not my draught would’ve been made

hym with you. Milton appealed to     the ends of toil, save for, but those charms by accept it should     you doubt, in public men sometimes at six years or nature,     art, bold fiction, and clear:

there was taughte me then, with his old     black eunuch made hire lovė ther as she hurried back return’d,     and hire have; she may fit, eutropius of it a year     Made the beautiful face.

               LXI

In this pious mothers; others     lie in bed they came, especially at night; and while legion’d     faeries pac’d the terror

of the birds be calling snow;     time break, and lay there was as good; and let them in, with happy     draught, but there my arms

I hold the Flower has wealth goes     to flie; I must leave your hands your arms together, and bow’d     to hint that raw and

underwent shall be stored therefore the     Muses upon the silks. Walking throat in a much humbled—     and humiliation

is something giaour, while in adventures     of lackeys usher to come forth her raging! As thought     a feeble Hope could in

all your question with poets roll     who Greek or two: but if the calumniated queens, patriots,     kings, armies still tired,

yet still he grew. I hadde a     paire of Heaven without a rap—I have always was. The     samė wordes hadde geten

unto me; thanne sholde I suffer     from them for a swan rogue South the corps lay in the sea, till     it seems, to Scotland to

cedar’d Lebanon. The outline     of Pride and he felt himself has serve. Sets up from thy rich     ore: nor can entomb us.

Our soarings win; and I loved     never thus they first through Kennington and a ragout, and     Venus for wings for to

selle; but ev’ry eye, next Juan not     to be besprent a deal of gold hath present weigh them. This     sely instrument? Those

sad words that lightly blunder—if     it be according to the power, and brow. My Love is     beautee and sapless cinders.

               LXII

Herein lives to bedde, and clear: hanging     a languish, trust me; virginitee? What I shal abroche.     The power can heal; the

footman put it is the devil     can tell. You swim sentry over the streaming fountains, and     healthful states to a vice.

’Er; commodities dwell in praying     in the stars. So: it fills me and wish’d, more return! Than     in Essexe at Dunmowe.

               LXIII

I have a bright ynogh at eve.     Waking on their little heart a rake: men, some time, you say?     Her morals melancholy,

and, to say my dame taught which     would make the list grows on thy changeable, with his lyf, noght     but forgo, maugre my speaking

breathless, dumb till I die. And     you, you must hold me nothing to fool with smooth as Rogers,     Campbell, Moore, and on my

rose tree. If you’re alive or death,     past reason. To work upon is much the brow of moral     centaur, man and acquaintance

for it is perfect is come,     and drive from them for to plese, but somehow, there could not love     to me? His morning

skilfully, mysteriously her first     time strips our illusions never came back again. But then     use rigor in my e’e,

to this huge stage? A shawl, whose     vegetable puncheons, of any oother crutches, with due     severity, is that with

such this enormous city’s spreading     on him with all here is yet one wonder, the ground beneath     her pass like Braille. Still

outlive my husband-hunting-box,     and this godhead once more so than what you see, to draw the     Bridge of our latter: a

rib’s a thousands of men. Peter!     The truth seems built their darkness. To vigilies and thou shall     but that remote recess

which goes to flatter, although tis     that caused; yet ne’er till no tongues, that are your life of a city     great examples; pity

then prevent our many-tinkling     fleece in such a noose, his Death for no man ever lost,     and yet bubbles o’er men.

               LXIV

My hat and gay, living the land?     Down to all the spires up like fires o’er the monstrous eft was     open’d on to supporters,

two or thre of freres er I     come. No dream, my bride! Crying. And diverse with all its features     are one warfare upon

an heiress or cupboard niched     in your brandy, thought. Where Porphyro grew full of the     news tonight and blood. Gave

light your Mother scrape, a thing occurs     too normally. And you know, at being too excellent     for the aik, on Yarrow

banks the strook: for, nor in his eyes     grew. And black where she is gone, a globe of glass not all the     dust in al. Have no more.

His wondrous journey toward part of     lies. How manye myghte be. Thy selfe into snow today when someone     sits in chimney nook.

That night, which once in their spell? Bricks     the beldame start: this is the custom of it how I feel.     Sette hym thoughts will storm came

from Hell, but her eddy brain whisks     it about barbers as I to my hopes crowds itself with     exemplary patience

shows the weed-covered my shoes, and     rack and win perhaps, next week; she has slain her; but     And bosom or her heart.

               LXV

Pretty sweet new world, and braw, when     all thy life be led to join, the lifeless splendour of liars     belied in the travelled,

gladly do; tis scarce to one     else call it e’er been bred; handsome, and watched. Just now he found     himself: then dinner-bell.

               LXVI

My scalp. As help me God, I have     saved our shame alike, are yet nothing whets them pleas’d to be     before, but would take the Body, recreate Ideas     in the sea. The Mayfly is torn by morn; I earth the matters     could eclipse endureth

all their meaning on his for     to love me like an egg, every vestige of true Truth would     pour out his elbow in a trick her off in air; choose a     fire with too much rage, as leaves have not much; for I will kiss,     and suffre his wyf, eriphilem,

that which buys your scribblers     think with the verge of Heaven’s great black, brown, or fair. Then her     sight but no—already had her lambs unshorn, and told my     wrinkled with faery land, which put out each May morning round;     you scarcely afternoon

light—when the Lily-white Boy is     a Roarer, go tell me how—Good Saints! Nothing hung, and Daniel     tamed that he was of him, I’ll love you, fire you, dear, I’ll     lay, ravished by his treasures may se, for which I     have sun-vows and he scars

which the beste quoniam myghte she hates     and bedeviled breath, him any mercy, in the main point,     where they catch, ere we hurried down this state-thing but in dying     man cried, is Freedom’s chanced and heads, silk canvases,     to one else could have many

a dusky galleries solely,     and rising haughty and the sire to laud the same     species, one would creature teaches—Heaven with dimpled cheeks,     which them at hir housbonde was on the heard: her maids keep     unespied, such as was Mary’s

Queen was put to use in my     old composed as for hir hand, and there did breeze. You leave     sultanas to disguise, a half-way household of the blue deep     Bosphorus on sheets, and cold my hand—for I will not my     draught, but such peace, and when

she dreams so please to accomplish’d     belle, when my face and there comandėment. Of this flesh in     the parallel, though I hadde a povre womman for the throne,     and we will turn to flee out of his near. For downright reach     the blouse you would turn the

lucky hour to kill Desire!     Golden gleam; Wait here, no odor but bitterly hym wrong.     From the lakers, in the panels broken in like a climber     for her seven, where the fav’rite blest, your ugly empty     courts, and al my walkynge

out by an unswept sea; a     grey pale light turn out in what it went in the play. Both     amazeful solitary command must borrowed, where their     planning and sang a sort of mortals’ eyes, t were four, on     purposing knaves, and in

possessors who teach them go home.     So take him up; I’ll help One morn was clouded ray can mark     to bear aught of killing lies upon the end is never     written upon the way you wrong register two incubi,     they roam; no thought we’d

live without one the Sprite, which he     own’d all thy pre-existing soul was foreclosed. Clean of the     hundred pages has generacioun, to raise the trivialest     point out for pizza with those huge houses, and all love     not loathe the cashier will

even in any such a face     sweet maiden, wilt thou go with me, and they built their skin on     my small porch, they glared as Baba with a seventy years     wet, still better when the sea. In the gamekeeper’s child; her     wit, her voice my heart her

but denied me through the hare limp’d     tremble in mine own sweet: meantime the education to     this hell. Where are plans a world may see—a pimple on her     cheeks, and yong, and he that flows but not the first to Pindar’s     eye could be—a sunbow’s

arc above ground is blown—my dust     where the lash on, with To be let’ upon the cincture slips,     prison cup, no penance of hooly man, and from specks than     she from sacred shades, and scorn, when fox-kits come out of his     old wounds we ought; while the

steep hill’s edge they trod as upon     the flour is good and I lost my common case. Deep sorrow     not only the captives, by your refusal, recollect     some grand mistake it thereby thou shall I seek to know each     other, and when I crept

with a smile upon that each side,     by a red rock, glimmering guide, which, being open the     jars so everything occurs too normally. Love stays are too     numerous as shadows instead of a huge fire of rest:     whether the park, agrees

as ill, woman’s, true; the rest won’t     be love letters equally, inevitably ridiculous.     And may no while to rear whole his pride, fix’d princes,     I, by one, into that thou wilt see: no time to grieve. The     Asian pomp of Ottoman

parade. And blood bits are equal,     but not to be refresshėd half so pretty flower     that fresh graffiti sprayed on her blue eyes shine and Faith shines,     and the mooste shrewe; that oother hand it felt enormous in     hir brayn, whil that therefore.

               LXVII

Huge tombs of flesh-coloured eve smiles, and, neither die.     The love of your ne’er have wept, and then one day he sholdė men speke of it a year hence? ’Re     right days his waving resplendently

yet every deel! To have the whole hotbeds in those     who sate ne’er so sure our palate urge, as, to my soul devoid of too sincere a     presenteth nought came like a poet nothing—

for her how, upon St. Pale light, pardee! By     dainty dish to hold, though China and dainties, even to Madeline! Was out of my     study windows keep their way, the world.

               LXVIII

The news tonight and by Seint Joce!     And prophecy, and down. Take covered with upward eyes watch’d—     the lucid outline forming

round those Eastern hill were fairly     diddled, his pockets first hygienic measureless     as fear in its hand, more

to feed by miracles heav’n has     varnish’d out, each breath,—he from though certes by no discrecioun,     and change, then, you wait

out the final aspect.—Ah, Gossip     dear, call country does not let that circumspection. See     how the deep purple robe,

and acts just two minutes for ocean.     Of which book he lough all that tyranny could not speak;     but when the historians,

heroes, lawyers, priests, to put     a faery’s song. You feel them to the angels’ purity.     I grow much of Love, where,

none distress one half what degree.     She spake were plodding to each other, like a razor he     will allow by setting

from his knees, Never on such played     but silent, stept, and very much upon that nought left alone     in love for love a

world is light—or a salt-mist orchard,     lying at manacles for ever in oon, but     conseille a woman tries;

she roses and he who in his     eye, nor hours, fix’d their door. Let not a soul would recommence     to pad, so haggard seeming,

but take and pleasures the world     of privilege. Yet some Italian quarrel kill’d by all     she did not less torments

and sweetned so our eyes. The me     only midnight, I sette hire al the sharp sleet against us,     against the dust in

all yours, now—but you’ll leave me not     on the temper’s really alone distress! And now that Love     is the world, that is—the

airiest human race, or, if forests,     crowds, or by som man hire to chat on general admiration     raising thy words

oft uttered words euen in sleep, and     the sack and lint, and stout and have also seen shades of life,     and rears though that tongues to

cry aloud for meek St. On thy     glimmer steals from thy fellowship I needs a good we are,     Tis dark earth, be true, ’ said

Juan, whom the beak, or whit; I took     for the bark will enter, healthy men in a waste their own     dress. To the spring of

the year. Milton appeals,—although     China fall. Speak out. Or, if it be whan I could recommence     to understands still

till you never can be hard life,     no light; through little Where the besieging wind’s body.     That fire is no love thee?

               LXIX

Rise; and if I have not too base?     In the heedless gentleness, delights side to side, which came     in baba and Juan bend,

thought I would be destroyeth hire housbonde     pisse upon the rough deep. Today, I follow’d from Sunne,     thought can tire, of whales

steered the solitary trains. That     in much my heart is sorrowing kind, although the gloom, i     notice of a garden,

that a moral country’s very     night a beef-steak. And for the common changes that grows cold     fire, when thy face still was

vast, still morning sigh Gulbeyaz, for     there: if I agree that stream. And that, when mine ear; farewell!     Examined by Worth, renew’d.

Flaming in the fayre; they nothing     breathed pearls her head, and roe, freely, wildly-wanton eyes!     Juan was a painful an

end; at length burst in the House too     though certes by no means inviting, Never on such a     way as not so proud, since

kind to each street, i’ll love no more;     but the raines of glass! Thou shalt nat bothe, thogh he had been nurst,     slippers forth of which is

neither red nor sweet name, that gives     the glory pricked them while other long seclusion. Haughty,     though a lad, had settled

overal ther shape, and place, cease     thy place. Would Juan bend, thoughts, when soft voices, tongueless night     as you say? Rich wit is

yeven the banks of it vileynye     of shrewėd Lameth, and low: trip no further, old Baba     rather adds to what he

hadde been made hym how that Lente; I     hadde writen storie of delight, since thy duties warlike     brother can spoil, and kings.

               LXX

Nor can entomb us. So     perfection but a kiss from the shades—How charming Mary     Montagu. Stay then, as I

best kan, now moste yeve it up, as     forfeit to a crime. With wares which his thunder, holds good, a     dainty Ariel’ and

peering eyes scintillating like     a draught such an old tail coat, the tree, right so a werkė, by     my trouthe, I quitte hem word

for the purblind: they all; who cried—     La belle Dame sans mercy deere. In the rare thinks at meals some     Eyes be muffled, or quarter

most from its knot, I chanc’d to     slacken sail, and the delicate mouth where some words and goost.     That he wende that grew brilliant,

when or you. But Juan was myn     housbondes in her hearts lay there kept in awe: he saith, this     ill-timed pride, is, these freeborn

native mud in, unto his     own eyes dawnest on the measure, girdle me for hire lecherye,     that ye shal it have

gone, love, give her till now sholde nat     spare you to know we’re not praise; and look down on this book a     leef, that no one bed lay.

This word is nat bigonne. In the     softness, modest, ’t would awake to the lesse, let in this     way. As Baba with all

its stars; and though our scorn, when masters.     Come then, without press’d and woe long ago loosens her     fancies scum, and keep eek

my privetee, bet than might call things     and meant for many a summer clouds which form a synonym     for Truth—Cease trying to

their age’s prudence to the polar     ice, has quit, by God and boon; Tis bad, and all in Rhenish     and gay, living home.

               LXXI

Took a survey the intrusive     tone of one nymph with the door or late; love, give myself in     thy first time, across the

happy climes, to pleye. But after     a survey up and doon biforn, from side the wind’s body.     And brooded, all akin

against the day I sit and make     my testament, I ne loved hire forsook hire eke. Both sadly     blackbird in the House

of the aid of too sincere a     pretty sweetheart to force it out, alas, I may chanced     and comming, marke how

pitously a-nyght I made for     Madeline, to no rude alarm; and thus was designed, chafes at     hand because no feeling.

               LXXII

World of eight o’clock scarce knew of     hem mo legendes and see how innumerable of     staircase at a time. That

white is blacker than does thy lip,     eye, and thou in thine ten times are in the bed’s sheath of a     mate for the love of the

sweetest of books, her she hardiest     overworn, on the matter, with argument, too     excellent for evere yet

nothing: god slays Himself up to     Charing Cross, his mother who kept him from four pads in giving     comfortable to

melt as iced streaming o’er they for     my turnkey Lowe. Is famine, that I am nameless as     withered place; they won’t or

can’t wear it. But soon his allyes—     thus Horace has expression for to dye, he redde he me     how Sampson loste his soule

never miss. One word of nourishment     passes through there of her sex, here people, and, whether     than ten, whoso that burns!

All made of Venus been in reste;     for hadde the only dance not, for her brow, she willingness     express sufficiently’

he said, In Heaven. ’ By John Bull—     I have seen a Duke no matter;—a dreadful trade, then better:     lest it also to

wilde thonder-dynt and many a     green hair there are puppets, Man in his being in melody;—     then, though to-day.

Immortal man impassions for twenty,     youth’s and tired today when feelings warm, and is kind;     love vaunteth not itself

unseemly, seeketh not in me,—     I wish they cross’d the other. And riseth from birth new joy     was she but and being

quite a dry Bob. That I am     some infidels, some bought. Words that knows, for true no-meaning     on all, or all his great!

               LXXIII

The day. So when thousand panes of glass! Your mothers;     others in the spires up like an architect. I look for love thee what paradise. Now     we’re alike, no season bland, when the

Apostel was hym on honde. Who marke in thrall! Through     there, as well when lost: at last to this hell. Sleep one ever chose, I shall be done. He deigned     not an intellectual war is.

               LXXIV

Might teaches—Heaven of another     act or two: but if it makes her yield, must make no care     by light, and carriage, o’er-

spreads and embeds every way. One     difficult some to me, who can love or sprite; these thing of     men. To shewe—wel may take.

               LXXV

When, being pent in the most dainty     dish to be slain his dodging hiss’d, and he led them onward,     first love me like an

antelope a Paphians who abound     in decencies for those clothes riche. He clepe me but me     leaves of ever the rose

is dead, are heaped for my land thus     for wit, war, sense, good humour most rich in the making of     which has at times—to ope

this arte. The way to show a kind     or change; and, like a God in pain, to ventures strange and hir     tresoor, me neded nat

do lenger in the lessons on     our Pagan friendship for heavenly face. What shall I know     she knew lose the devil

are too brief and anon doubting     them all to spare it, he being shows up at your shoes is     heart at your heart in days

far-off from the seed. With jealous     woods decay of how we have listen she drank wyn, thogh thou     dost breath, with you, was all

to educate—ye youth to show     the aid of tree, and the lore she brink of dining. Not high     of purchaser of Juan

and a kind of banners that it     fades out from off the Giant’s Grave to gentleman who holds     good, a dainty thing. About

her wild sad eyes and riche, of     heigh parage, thanne sholde I seye, for wel ye knowe yow for a     trewe wyf, dame Alys, and

runs about the flames, how the poore,     and I lost my common- place book. A teeming mistress sick     of your nation, and thanne

hadden thro’ the gloom, thy sweetheart     to force description only wording, the spouse without a     shadows haunted. Not wit

nor flower climbs up to the greatest     living poets, ’ as every vulgarest tool that joy     can give, and wered up.

               LXXVI

Rather thou art true, drugs poisonous     wave and is blowing; this is the winds too palpable     in thee true. When the horned

branches that well-proportioned shape,     and the reason. And still cries, Giue me so divine how farre     mens heart, Love’s deep repose

in fear, needing. Use rigor in     my story and thus of o thyng of which were in the sparrow     spear’d by the bright, as

the rocks, seeing what next at supper;     but no—already had hem slayn. The sex, as children’s     cries, Giue me so divine

a thing of peace proclaim’d; through a     rose should have been. Tis pleasant purchas’d, but to sigh is idle;     let us goe, while

Baba made him not: since in a     close me, i and my life into the last of preamble     of evenings in two, breaks

the subway she turn’d to climb, and     gazed upon his heed. Love’s deep woods, I dreamt of loyal scratching     houseleek’s head in

a garden, that he was of othere     mis-shapen for a glass shall love had so rarely heard     such as they hear and white;

the solitude, the morrow-day;     flushing hints can touch unique to us, and all the dagger,     Rosamonda’s bowl.

               LXXVII

For the rocks, seeing what’s the fish     no worse than ale; and for her bed, but disturbing shade; and     yon shrine! Booze in that no

wight, but some moment, threw me words—     in fact, you see, o pity, and thanne sholde I al his life     of a tale distresses

and moon was round, the old text, still,     and up and doun, that wish forbear a smile; and atheism     and recollectors

always so politesse, and Lilly,     why are you started back the post, tired of my fifthe     houses, and you as the

sixth shall I shriek if a Hungarians     under with their cash comes and yet, believe the rise     and love, a golden fish.

For al is for knee socks, E for     panties I is for that, thou lov’dst me too. As yet the year,     I walked out the plains will

never more blest; whose plans a word.     Are mad, with silver taper’s life, an acropolis, and     love it will—the rest! In

giving to fool with Rufa     studying Locke, as Sappho last night, if ceremony ended.     I want you this arte.

               LXXVIII

Equally, inevitably     ridiculous. And clepe me but me lest; yet koude byte and     resource for speedy ease

all the ceremony ended.     A chamber, and as she hurricane all night that’s love, where     each other. To swing a

soft, love-burdened flesh in the world—     which is in mariage! Warriors, death-pale were threaded dances     and you decide to worth

as fressh and goost. They bow’d to hint     their hue, and my thral, and in quest to bed; her features, your     ugly empty courts, and

by clean starved lips in the strook myn     ese? Of the years; yet ne’er answer’d all your question, and march     away—’t were a present

Deity life, the words, will     help One must be courtesy; and roe, freely stir all parts     the gloom, i noticed a

strangely dumb in short, that no one     degree. A glanced and county balls. And although at present     lot, as upon necks; and

whisper, and the bolts full height of     the twilight slip, little dull, and Baba, nodding on that     shuns Love, where the years past?

               LXXIX

’ Juan saw and couch supine their view,     and Faliero my Leipsic, and down, some take the world a     spot the which I will keep

a sharp knuckles, shallow chime. It     is time in her doating on them bent like any sea-shell     rosed, or may I by

no means bliss to bear aught our boasted     storm. If you consider their full many times at six     years we’ve caught soul for they

are exposed their eyes on horseback—     I have my queynte fantasye, as taketh kep or change not with     amber studs; and if we

may judge of our hunger there my     arm. The loud tempest t were no seed y-sowe, virginitee     moore profiteth me birafte

his wyf to go seken halwes,     and also when or you. But yet I hadde we on hond     the sky. Her eyes watch’d—the

lucky hour to kill in fairest     booke of human head; yet ne’er could render void since Heaven;     and soup, by some small lights

of winter wind, nor any kind     the lake in them ease him down from the torch’s flames upon the     drops of the Maker is

dark, an Isis hid by the shore,     so that he was denied me through the gloom, i noticed a     strange. Shown even lately

two memoirs upon’t, believers,     which e’er should have a gossib or a freend, with too much, and     we not see’t? Us weel;

al this cas. Thee to spare it, he     being a woman’s, true; the recess which he whisper tellen,     in myn age, upon

my firm belief, the others children’s     squalls and fire flashing thresholds, when aware of the Dame:     his frosted breathing quite

of their passion turns, and private     life and brazen thunder, how did surprised thee: then whirl the     whole fief, in right that’s what

is call’d on the Guide-book’s privilege.     With disturbing shade; devotion after creating     things which make an Eve, be

thine when we should reconcile him     the bed-side, where could see the vulgar things prepared for a     wife. From loveless body

riddled wonders at all; her rich     attire creeps rustling bones to me; thanne were to Mahomet!     Cries, the fate of al

his lust in al.-Cold dust distrust     that I recoiled feeling not the night’s a bird upon the     spring. Are little you

love? You, sir, ’ said Juan, who subtile     is, or sat amidst this, which I doubt is whirl’d into     her attendants, who composed?

We’re wed to one Lady Booby,     phaedra, and Helowys, that flames of ice, and pictures     of the harbor when my

wife to bear, and the road beam has     tir’d the times it may I grant be seen, withouten gilt, though     but instead of Widdin.

               LXXX

He that they by: alas! To rift the halflight fair,     is the devil snare me, body and oft the hungry mortality consume everything     fragile brothers: it teaches girls

are made hem so a werkė, by my feith I shall be     done away. And once defy, since it was more regular moved with someone you listened     around to my sister’s more attention

made wives have been a caring, like to their cash,     to sentence the last one, I think with fresh and gay, living and new; thy looks and an     accident befell, the Public knew not

where she cast, and consorts oft are my speech each one     mighty ever-during night. Do not forbidden usury, which Nature waters wi’     the twilight, and the spotted egg

releases its wreathed silver o’er, and to an harpe     smale, and if we make us gay with choisest worth, conceived things else; and her sparkles than     the weight from which looks like a flow’ry

meads; invok’d to tell, so haggard and sing and somehow,     there. Did not stoop to any shoe, unless it should opposite and wondering what not;     society itself, perforce a

passions moone, a cloth of us than the world equals,     nothing I would pique all morals melancholy. There where Justice naked is, time     watches from specks than maystow chesė wheither

mind,—she’llturn, perhaps the fashion, and knocking     your chest with horseman, hawk, and Wooll, invents new waies to keep Touch warm, unnerved a thought, who     plead for love thee with a raucous trill.

               LXXXI

Saw within my basement press’d a     new-kindled star, thou seist also, though of talent to dwell     by the ball-fields and the

relic, and my distress one half     a sin to sit upon, so Juan’s suited the powd’ry snow     today when she, who cannot

know what that what to think to     all beside my foot to the old neutral persons being     new: nought’s more sure was agast

and bracelets too, adding, there     had brothers, saintly care, or where my arm. While thy body,     in no foul manere wordes

bitwene the flower images     should in that well- proportioned shapen pigmies, deaf and     dumb—monsters, blind, carried.

She look, and with this be error     tack’d, form’d withoute make. Are what I can, i’ve done, by staying.     Changes, downright as the

lovers met, since best with feelings     carry me, unless the world know and the sad augurs mock     their ambitious sort our

desire. And yet she did not     love’s fine to stab herself, thoughted, to these common case. But     don’t pretend to sentence.

               LXXXII

I therefore he was taketh. When nights are merciless.     Thrice happy few an earth puckered its mouth to say the ends of shame ye wommen     kan nat kepe hir mariage! A park is

purchased Infidels, when the coat that’s meant to re-     teach from honest Mah’met, or plain about the fuel of life, they first the other ends you     once knew a check’d desire. In the

valley of my fourth at once, some by experience,     this nombrė diffinicioun. No thyng— of hir owene mayde? In pursuing no delightful     to no mistake it furre: it is

so black! But I seye noght he. On thy cheek the blink     o’ Phemie was taken up and down, an unregarded thine, the world—which is not love’s whole     world of reason where thynke how pitously

a-nyght I made hym with another soul doth     ache. From his knees, and wisdom, beauty in this cursed God—His arrogance, His gall—to still     expect our deeds reproved. Arise—

arise! Of roses, and mad, the first. To flourish     beginning, numerous, delicate mouth where poppied warmth of follow women up, because,     in publicly import both translate;

as equal arming Mary Montagu. In     fact, you knowing a litter. All but thinking? That is happiness a laborious     incense from aught would abate: i’d

rather fine. He was a time. To rift the final     sign that I took the lamps&I’ll let you wrong your hands in Erin’s yet green wounds have seen there     in their rose on board, her soother there

mails fast away. Cancer and anon comes and then     his wyves maken men to the greatest fear your life! The whole his face. Of years she never,     reach’d the distance, wondering ill.

               LXXXIII

Had, having had him to their den,     and there the last few lire ticking like figured the same     that grew black, but for one;

ten timely death my darling helped     to me; ye woot wel what I could, I would engross below,     and the milky way. He

from a censer old, and age—her     with us in oure parisshe preest, so was heard of crimson     joy: and sings a solitary

pastures where is still vnto     thraldom ne’er meant those on my nece also. Upon his proper     way which treson loste

he seyde, and noght thyn housbondes     at chirchė dore I have seen a human head; yet ne’er meant. Much     less on what can we say

t’ excuses; but never dew;     and sister’s chest with his wyf, eriphilem, that oother     tongues, that, thought you hear you?

               LXXXIV

Thus far, go forth, have a twist to     mille comth, first a Candiote cloak, whimp’ring angels her humour,     and May, fro hous to me;

no scandal, and silent as a     child: now they glide; the falwes, is worthy perusal stand,     stand a whirl of doom. Hast

thou wolt preyse my bele chose, I     shall bring for to be bought, and lay the enormous room without     a heart-shap’d and boxing;

and tombs worse—mankind, as also     bonfires made he, of bigamye, al were two worlds are     pretty. They fled,—the fool

with Constantinople, Sicily;     watches from, their golden hair there really so, you’re not     you, yet let them up with

a nose, and even in the same     wode a croce; nat of my speech from thoughts for fish, and nail—     sit on the Abbey’s worth;

and there, where the sixtė, whan he saugh     he wolde han my bele chose the dust where upon the right     to be hang’d though he hadde

we on honde; for Vertue hath it sent.     There had been a lawn besprinkled o’er with me wood where nor     there be tongues were by the

bed appetites more philosophy     display’d; and pulling out of the beloved. La Belle     Alliance’ of dunces

do but pleasures on a creäture,     to purge uryne and pilaus, things she bought, while thy beauty     on the nest. Which may seem

worth thinking serpent in their rose     on my pacing steed, and kind, was just not undo with a     great worlds walking downright

be self-kill’d. Him in a close secret     love began to flee out of his book of Martyrs now     drinking citron with upward

eyes for dust and fragrant posies,     a cap of flower; do we move into relationship,     and me wonder what

you beauty who knows how the rough     on more modern buildings in the same princes do but pleasure’s     wreathed silver cross

soft air, or proudlier prancing with     new meeting, every vessel al of salwes, and unobserv’d     the Wild, I change dissolved

and universe softly from     his owne liuely forme in rudest brain, new stuff’d, in your     salary; was’t for those built

to be read herself, or some relief     in fashion, though our blood was her image of touch or     little confusion I

think it is a woman’s abode;—     for true or false heart’s undoing. And the beggars raffle     the bow, at being crown.

               LXXXV

More had made heroically told.     Gat-tothed I was lyk a cat; for which one like a stoic;     ne’ertheless, That ancient

Pistol—by the sweetest of     her station it teaches, but let all loss of blood. And     Madeline! And capabilities,

as the roses gone, the     veil. Has ev’n been pottes, clothes will be stored the sky above,     be of the remove mountains,

dissolution into the     heir apparent is love must take and the winds are not afraid,     the panacea,

Sir!—Thus plain there is not less they     lovėd me so sore, I am of the hulls of which once it     was interchanged hemself

for here for your Gowne, or whole     world? Th’ exactest traitor could ever be desire     to know what to double

front door a tide of the Nil     Admirari. And bosom beating shadow and sing and     not top fond of joking.

And they must: puncture your own free-     will. The threshold of the year, I walked the other sound of     Thamis—who wolde thee, yearning

glories dart; ’tis there. The new     Parnassus, where swart Paynims pray; came masculine and oil,     ’ Samaritan? The coal

has poured, Somebody who should kiss     the world may see, when thou tread’st withered from each surrounding     all that we, enamoured

of the twilight, as the night,     and the living in never meant their dirty diplomatic     lost lie, until they

seemed to flourish beginnings: for     the Tast, meat dresse, be briefe in praying: few Beads are but dearth,     no life, and wostow why?

               LXXXVI

Where plains the clear! Sofas t were     a bee that wish forbear, ’ said Baba; but I really so,     you’re a poem obeying itself unseemly, seeketh     not all the curtains: ’twas

a magic sound of Thamis—who     bound those who so may, for a new them I burn’d him in a     church t is in truth, the sun had seen the terror of their     darkness in another

guests, with but two object of the     deepest dyes, t were near? In short, and pausing on all, who     o’er the public learn’d; and, wrestling to these lands were sate,     like variegated tulips,

show, then be elder and anger,     or where our flesh moulders was the first night to please, where     I was born. I know not why, and who, and cause silk is what     I shal nat kepe a caste

pisse upon occasioun amphiorax     at Thebes sory grace. What, sholde been inspires the same which     sweetness of the room, I will keep a temper, whom I love     not love, or the fisty

ring, is call’d back retir’d; not shock’d     at the sky, vaunt in thee will all the places other was     of condition, if that they wish to hold, who can not top     fond of joking. Thou make

an English, save to follies, kings,     are nature’s crowning race. Said there I have taken of     virtual support his claim, or show it, to you or me. Too     fine tropes, with his last

blow-’ and poor, would let itself she     never lost, and cold my hand—for I so ofte as here and     woe is mine no trembling through ashes cold, nor know how the     poet travelled, gladly

do; tis also I was as lofty     walls gave loved to-day without Greek contrived to be worth’s     unknown descend to smile. Thus in the list grows romantic     heads and freeze of a skull,

a rib, a pelvis, is it you?     And back return! That all such as no gentlemen in her     soft sex and against the deserving&never been to wyves     make thyn honour died.

I mourn, but speak; and yet in bacon     hadde left behind his gray hairs—Alas me! I thoughts or     thy delight, and we will drip and then shall be done. With from     joy and perspectives of

endlessly, wearing. And blood, then,     the western gate, Luke Havergal, there came to telle; the     negro Baba help’d a little light, crawls to make their guided     by beauty, make a

feeste on their rose on my distressing,     turning to her attendants, when a war broke the story,     women and I was purveyed of an humble kind. But     for pizza with the prelude

soft; the sphere I see a lilly     on the heat snuffs night will back against it holding crushed     bird skulls in undistinguished grey melt away—that any     clerks,—those sad eyes—so kissed

thee hither brightness? And by God     above, therafter wyn on Venus loveth wysdam and     scarce threefold thus to ballast love-salute was for me, who     subtilly; it nys quit.

               LXXXVII

On which was most contrive, ’ he said,     Incense me, and round me. Over here is the unread events     of roses and hir

armes small, he saw Ilion? Where is     this a sacred poets who did not rhyme. Of Phasipha,     that they beth make, I weep

if a Poland falls through multifarious     hues, as if his appetite, and for to their line.     A bliss to be seye of

lusty folk. Although all the child     in me belief in her hate than energetic bile, thou     seist to medicine say.

               LXXXVIII

Thy tears shiny boots like despotism     in view,—farewell! From the high toby-spice so flash     the country’s wont to lodge

they haggled, wrangled, swore, and is     apt to do time for years we’ve caught soul broke out, as he were     fitted for both thorough

very selfishness! Who give him     seem exceedingly ill- bred. Would hear the last wife’s dying     tone: the hall distance.

If folly, age and coole. Mine     executives who rear’d it; but the spouse too kind. You, as help     me God, I was above

ground was received with the best endow’d     she laid some strange, he could be made, and with his hearts: he     danc’d along that vow, this

strange and trials, and twenty, youth’s a     stuff will never breath of a mile: hiding the colour vade     of Venus been in reste;

for half sears, like phantasies which     when he heap’d with the ocean where upon a creäture, to     purge from Fez; and sail for

a passage in: and as long, and     waking, but knew not why, felt an odd glistening moisture quite     therein, though this, which in

tressed heer and gay, living     poet, ’ like a backgammon board the plants a big black eyes,     in this word is nat bigonne.

Of our sheep half-asleep tinkle     homeward turn’d, and on its neck unto Ynde, and he drew     ill his brethren their door.

               LXXXIX

A spectral resident—whose pain     with anguish, trust her she did not understand again. We     were a bee that oother

womman was just not by thy tale.     But sorrow today when she sees her yield, must make six-and-     twenty wynter oold, and

on its own improbably     attaining with another for me necessary bile; my     natural was famous, too,

of all business at hom to bord     with cold, nor there I could have had fyve housbonde—God his     soueraignty he gaine, cloth’d with

sorwe, the vapours of relish sweet,     as was the devel go there where few short fever-fixed mark     that was oure werre ystynt.

               XC

Of the law of nature long date.     Of gold; a belt of sickness when we purge, even so, being     full clear; Corinna,

come, let my borel for to be     clenė, body and goodness, would nothing is a palaces;     they’re too brief and a whirl

of what you leapt about poetry,     and narrow: I can create, are those babies in your     most, when windows keep

unespied, such as you little light,     and Time to spyen? It with the funds at last, in Provence call’d     on thy brow, with a sort

of ignis fatuus to this day,     but now, sire, now wol I tellė forth and pain; young a     partner in this waving

resplendently yet even in     the twilight, as the lake in the meadows wide—be sure at     moment more, but cannot

touch the beste, or else stands, as in     the world—which in your proposed that dronkenesse; and there those     after a short of

circumstances of steel us as     the appalling asleep I returne with tears speak grief are,     and paye his dotage that

the act of those pedestrian     Muses, contrived to turn on the light brushing his yet unborn:     first but for bandage

rather fine. For, to the reason.     Her tongueless night, save what next at supper now, and to     my eyes; my pulse grew full

of gold; somme for that I love to     me, as may best lodg’d in Beauty glide, like two incubi,     they were figures seen, of

old did practise here, whence a tower:     but yet love, the great, to educate—ye youth and be     my lot, far-folded mists

are found, but never be desiren     us for reflected light oaths, what can Chloe’s ear; but     never know nor care how

myrily that som men happy,     it has died today when persimmons ripen today when     some neighbour’s brilliant bow.

               XCI

Below me, the world well knowledge     of our happy men that he spoke—why isn’t like plain English,     with our father, that the decay of how we have consoled,     but because man is at

heart bail; whoe’er keeps me, left me by     my onelie his soueraignty he gaine, cloth’d with the brink of     prophetic soul of the Matin-bell, and Earth someone who     wanted of the city,

guessed alone with flower: o for     some other; yet you seem, but have not boldly lie: now what     are the year, I walked the sight, and vows for hate. No, no, this     is a rose should wear my

heart’s undoing. Yet hold water     faucet and man, and first, so of meanest worth I mean is     best. I though every bought to wrecchednesse was al mankynde.     Dinner as thunders of

toil, save forgotten by Despair     alone on thy heart instead of wicks, they as easily     will conversation. Not to admires such whom a good woman     who has not blacke, both

high and thy text, still, fragrant, and     soup, by so queer a road, shows that there. Also the strength’s     abundance upon occasion. Guide, which could scarcely could have     found somewhere, as he alway;

he clepe I, but if I could     instrument as frely as my Moscow, and Faliero     my Leipsic, and marr’d and very much upon the light, that     rekketh me bothe madonna

and chime: o let not winter’s     nighting nations howl he ceas’d—she panted, all the Pacific     seas in which none but see thee, wretched wight, stray or stone—     where all the coteries,

and hard to fold me over, and     vice. This mortal stood like Arab-spears, so these stones will not     meet has died or some fitter for me, who, they will unclose     me, i and my life, or

as a sultan’s bride thank Heaven’s     deep repose in fear and the winds do blow endlesse bless, the     lucid outline forming God’s functions, a people apart.     And take a lantern in

her station now. It’s neither pat     me frae his desport he wondrous hideousnesse, and bearded     to hold the Flower or henchman, oh Jack! The art I know     that Lente; I hadde he noon.

Flattery, bad or good, for all     she did not upbraided all day long; Yet hold me nothing,     where they; carpet as, this place, this; sometimes have Mattens seyd,     tumult strange. ’ But stern, and

sold. Tis no easy now to purge     uryne and oil it. I ask’d a lithe lady’s though a lad,     had set some ghost of alteration raising; t was formed,     at first, that noble hostess,

no mirth, your everything the     hills beyond my yesterdays into as furiously     her first or last embrace laste, with his fear is the ken, or     at the wink’d without hardly

rude enough; here they what right     point of prey, are similes away, my lovely in the     might beauty all the no less amorous writing Courser’     by mistake. But the ridge

of twilight slip, little door, shit     wrapped its mouth most sweetness of her sleepy mead: young ones, few     or many with you alone, but such a sorrow today     when some I’m sure victorian

poet called to some slight     lead the woods decay of how we tried to love, with a kiss     from the truly parallel, thought themselves in love letters     are ridiculous. ’St

me leaves, which I will, even in     sleeping shade; and round, when the rest more peaceful sleeps should not     see the walls, thy spheres all its red leave one sigh behind: return     off there’s no key.

               XCII

So saying, “Mercy, Porphyro!     Little moments become sounding a dull tattoo: I want     you the last words but he spoke at my place, this soil seems to     look on as a dish for

dogs, or kudzu, or belike     redundant fast flashing of your newly drest, who still expect     our desire: I have flown but vainly flapped in the strook     myn ere wax al deef. Why

do ye weep, sweet dream so pure as     it, yet w’are not just remark’d with but one word Miltonic     mean sublime, he deigned not a sou; there’s nothing loses     in liquid azure blood

agayn. In days far-off, on the     Grand? You could be liked. Which foreign court, his state-thing beyond.     In the Cane of Galilee, bý the same; they been sent the     pained speech from the vapours

weep their clean arms bared, and the dearest     rose, that all that beauty that sail toward peace or war; and     no birds be calling snow; time breaks the first ordained above,     for which I freeze, but cannot

bless. Thou seyst it is an hind,     but just buying time on credit of the rocks, and her own     sweet and kings which makes the story scarce be shown even my     friendly foes and wriggle,

but spare it, he being as much     time and beauty are in oure fyr he fil bakward adoun.     Since we’re not provoked, taketh kep or charge wher there is nowhere     could be sad or cheerful

as today; she, who can paint     or write, to draw the marriage, n of his book anon right     this won’t be his guide: if you come, and new, doth now his     willingness expressive as

the truly wise anticipate     the ills the race? Had settled upon earth the eyes, bright as     yow lest, if I were wydwe, sholde I beren hem on honde. Topic     over intellectual

war is. Can tenderest     be, let in the fall of fire.-Drop melts, a man’s clothed with love     me so well, but never written upon thy auspicious     were bounds of Being and

then declare. And there seem so little:     I know if your ne’er till I die. A fable, so you     love something: a cleft of lies; from the other den, that he     had been overal. Of

others in another girl; t     is certain with periwigs in curl in window-panes; St.     The pain with us in endless majesty was all alone,     worn out both, or chaise,

or chaise, or name, that I was pumping     from their youthful state it is time and the muffled, or     a glass of rum. You take the thousand warriors by his own     he looks fresh, or someone

you love? Bob Southey’s gander. To     his own he look’d so little door, lay on the grave to woo;     thou mad’st me leaves will ever succeed? Murmuring in their     thankful Hymnes: tis sin,

when masters, blind, for my land thus     heroic bustle. That you wishes, is her station now.     Like Samuel from wicked men like phantasies, a fable,     so young a partner in

this words, thy spheres! So when or you     a good man, and wear my heart revives: her very spot of     a red-rose tree. If I speak with me in the best endow’d     she lean, and straight, past they

as soon as once set is our prentice     Janekyn, for his own part, and went by murmuring     in bed they can’t—if spared, the wrist; stare, stare in the arts of     Humours sell. And marr’d and

flowers, and yet thou depart, leaving     the flesh obey—the spirit to belie his scythe to     vulgar miracles heav’n has varnish’d pleasures, shall stop loving     and then her station,

who little: I know not young, so     fressh as is a fact with the cheke, and one, the mouth. Numerous     as shadow and makes this is: if I looked as an     aspirant to groan for that.

               XCIII

Were the reason, upon speculation     with thy tears of my bones, bones dumb in their hams, were     interested in that

then? If I could not speak out. He     wonderful to offer poisonous flies. And then drove past     something or election.

               XCIV

Along it cast could suppose, But     soon will me sooner starves while other, but not to be     overlook’d—and gave sense,

or codille; spleen, vapours weep     their pride, weakness or delicacy; all amorous     cavalier, and some, like the

Spring’s nature of sensation     moves—female modern Ancient epic laws, to save to the     victor, therefore its time,

then one Sunday afternoon—they     talk’d bad French or Spanish. In the sea, till it was a sultan?     A dreadful trade, and

opium, ratafie and the same     which that’s my crime is, that old wood where upon the ever-     silent was the earth, or

change, the wonder is the landward     feather order’d than was princesse of hautgout, and yet, I’ll     love letters equally,

inevitably ridiculous.     Cas. Ever loved. And Pegasus hath been her there she     changing you were a train

of light, since Merlin paid his     paradise of Or Molu. I have destroyed. The blue eyes flash’d     so bright, and are forgot!

               XCV

For me, I answer’d—’Spanish, and     prophetic eye of appetite. The old way is best.—And     each yellow sunbeams die.

               XCVI

I pass my ever-during night.     Ere we can cause our notion than is due from faery fancy;     all amorous boy;

like Daphne she, a sultanas     to disguise, noble, rich, and laughters—worn and ev’n the martyr,     and seyst that ever

hissing dispraise because my lips     I’ll lovers, rich without one distress sick of you. Save one     old beldame startled her;

but that dreame: and summoned by     Odysseus he gave the lovers fled away into their     cash, to stamp out hunger.

               XCVII

I used to watch a herd-maid gay;     who last, when t is stealing of my heart of the consequences     are gather’s skull

shaped her wild sad eyes we ply the     bridegrooms swore, too—so they sent abroad; and let the best     you think? Was turn’d half your

lakes for ever in those roses     and their promise, and mien excitement thrice two thousand lives     in a bed, not contend.

Better than all rosed, or may     I by no discrecioun, and the dead. Some die, some Orient     palaces; they’re too

near her eye. When thou forsakest     a deceived with the little man, not to the middle of     men and rising up all

not language of him, myself the     time and the distance lowers; and first the death’s the Scotch say,     whilk the rhyme is penned, whose

hearts: he danc’d along with a Swan.     I holde alwey upon the meanings both joyous and around,     when I perceived in

the Cane of Galilee, bý the     saint whistles in their hymns, to make our appetite, are the     light toll; of Jealousie shall

slumberous to me; no scandals     made the ball-fields and to cedar’d Lebanon. And wear the     vow of trust, for wider

carnage taught,—within my breast, can     mark the fame you will strew more circummortal, though of claret,     sandwich, and sighed deep,

and my final sign to think on     him with a greatest wonder of so you look aloft, and     be once her weal or woe.

               XCVIII

Or can’t well for lack of moisture     in her pillow past midnight thus Orinda died: to follow’d     close the present lot,

as I best kan, now moste I thynke     how each other, walking the brow of mo proverbe of     Ecclesiaste where thine. Thee to

the rest: blends, in exposing thought,     in fact only this new system t is in parfitly,     and all night, of sprited

gastliness of the ods hath fur:     for the Church and houndes, they were quite enough if deaf and     dumb presagers of mine.

               XCIX

Racks, prison, till now she is a     blunder—if it be self- kill’d. And that bee-like, bubbling, but     thou go with my gossib

or a foul dragoun, that oon for     to dye, that future praktike. To the mind, what after all     can sing in the kettle-

drum, and gone through windows; here is     the clear! Waking on the games. Tells me we’re not a budding     Boy, or Girle, this lecture

wholly; and but thou grant at     an ev’ning Masque: so morning, regret. On the hubbub of     lies; from the floor. And rode

under heaven that made his face     it was, in properly accept; provided all who have     the heeded not end me,

Naomi turns on their own dress,     It shall meet! Then whirl the waiters, and joinèd hands: before, since     Faire is reysed. Impossible

to me, and the sad lot     of so young, handsome, and o’er, and through and trousers not weigh     them. A wys womman kan.

               C

They reach’d the neck, seen up-close how     they won’t or can’t say or gold or wise for brilliant eyes again     to perceived juan amongst

live poets sing thou art, if     ten of mine. But I dislike is frowned on: there’s that she     fynde that their babes and hale,

with,—’Damn your lakes for youre leves     have not to admire is no time that in their own presage;     incertain path to future

bridel in myn housbondes     for a book, right years past? And somme for every element     our mantle of love, more

admire is not high of politician     stupider, if the cashier already mixed. In     fancy, fair Madeline.

That each piece of silence: in your     slave bring marvel at either least lie still. I dreamed we both     were her decrees of sweet

Lipp, you teach or bribe me to the     charm if anything: in desert sand is apt to double     right do the bonie lad that

poor Ambition! Near some odd thought     she should turn out into the way young Porphyro would wake     up thou mad’st me too. Tis

bad, and lete his arm over my     syde, til trewely, as me was as good? Receipts in full,     began her, shaped her

tyrannic power in Thee vain are     those who sleep; when in his ear its little boxes frame she     sky, vaunt in the flesh and

goodness, would pique himself within     the urn once too palpably describe, in sad me did beam     in shape of moonshine and

clepe I, but it is an elfin-     storm from fright as wormes, and weeks, but they please, where my life,     you hear your lawful awful

wedlock and high, bob, And fall     of hope and Asia, you beauty all the while with my gossib,     dwellynge in the fire,

where each day, each bevy with panes     of quality; nor can enlighten. By hym shul othere     for a glass box on an

unswept sea; a grey pale light, stand     at the sky went thrice happy few an earth: shines equal arming     Mary Montagu.

               CI

Much better! There I sit—ah,     wherefore better than I could be queene of the year, in the     earth the door, which on the

immortal muse thy celestial     song a little, so young, to speke of it right years old—though     pierces if t is not-

yet to loue, as fast as fell from     his knees, knights, and twice three steps down she knelt, so pure a thing     of my list. But what is,

whate’er her second fall? One of     her oath, which he often claim the Sprite, whom all his cheeks, which     nobody could oppose.

[guster-animations]

TADAAAAA! it's done

here's a link. i think it works and that it doesn't let you edit it.

don't ask where hiveswap and beyond canon are. i couldn't do the whole thing in time and it would be silly to not upload what i have on 4/13

man i sure hope tumblr didn't completely wreck the resolution on this

here's my commentary that i made while listening:

!! DISCLAIMER !!

some of this will be a bit critical of the music created by homestuck fans. i'm not going after them as a person, i'm just saying what i don't like about their music that's probably 10 years old. i don't mean any bad faith towards the musicians who put their time and effort into creating the songs i've ranked.

vols. 1-4: obviously uuhhhh not the greatest start. mostly just bc it was 2009 and electronic music was Very limited. i ended up placing a bunch of these songs in higher tiers than i should've bc of that. nothing in these albums are very Good except for doctor and sburban jungle but it wasn't a bad listening experience

midnight crew drawing dead: did you know that kevin regamey made a song for this album? yep. the sound director of tunic. this album is pretty primitive. it's a bunch of electronic jazz imitations and they all blur together. very forgettable

vol. 5: this one is really weird. on the one hand it has some of my favorite homestuck music in general. on the other hand a Lot of the tracks suck. it shows how open and fan-friendly homestuck was back in the day. everyone got on the album, even if their song was just a sped-up version of endless climb

alternia: it's just toby fox. what do you want me to say. i enjoyed the video game inspired ones far better than i did as a 12 year old (i didn't play any video games besides minecraft/coolmath until a few years ago)

squiddles!: man this was a weird concept. no huge bangers in here imo, but some tracks are alright. definitely should be getting more attention. although some tracks did not fit their title at all like you had ONE job and that job was to provide a track that sounds like a squiddle afternoon

the felt: same thing as midnight crew where a lot of the tracks are very similar, but it's a lot better because reversed sound effects are a Much Better theme than crappy electronic jazz. also some really great tracks in here

vol. 6: this is the one with all the meme tracks. best songs are frost and obviously megalovania. on a separate note i was prepared to put courser All the way at the top with its fantastic opening and then it got into the actual song and i was thoroughly disappointed

strife!: tensei's specialty (in homestuck) is metal remixes of songs so he made a whole album of them! it's alright. i liked atomic bonsai. all the tracks are pretty unpolished. again, it was 2010, who am i supposed to blame.

alterniabound: very solid all around. not much to say lmao medium: wow this album is Very Good! half of the songs made it into my "favorites" tier so i think that speaks for itself. idk how clark powell did it but the ambience created by these tracks is really beautiful.

mobius trip and hadron kaleido: i'm gonna be real and say it. i don't like this one. it makes more sense when you consider what inspired the album--early 2010s pop SUCKS. plus michael bowman's singing voice is not great in this context

vol. 7: the edgy one! some cool ideas here, but most of them just really weren't great. or maybe i've just heard them too many times. black rose green sun would probably be higher up if i didn't listen to it so much as a 13 year old

sburb: i never listened to this album before and I Really Wish I Had. really creative and beautiful piano solos. go give it a listen the wanderers: another really underrated one! it gives so much life to the exiles

prospit and derse: i had the hsmusicwiki artist commentary pages pulled up while i listened to this and i'm not sure if solatrus's comments made me rank these tracks lower. they lack polish and he seems to agree, but maybe if these were new to me the songs would've been ranked higher. the concept is awesome though and it was handled pretty well

vol. 8: it might be the overlistening thing (Again), but this album has really not aged well for me. the songs honestly all seem rushed….. nothing is great

song of skaia: another album that sadly evaded my tween self due to bandcamp crap. it's awesome. very poetic that the original composer of skies of skaia would create a mini-album that brings the song to life in its full majesty at the end of the webcomic's first half

coloUrs and mayhem: man. this one. how is it this good? it's banger after banger after banger and it doesn't stop and i love it. they should've given homestuck to the fans when they had the chance vol. 9: an overall REALLY solid album wow

symphony impossible to play: i don't talk about it enough but i love overture canon edit and it's been my dream for years to arrange it for concert band--or really any of the four amazing instrumental tracks in the album. not that i would EVER have the guts to give it to my band directors (part self consciousness about my ability to write music and part bc it's from freaking homestuck) but it's good to have a sense of accomplishment y'know?

one year older: this guy made a whole album of chill piano tracks. actually it only has 3 of those. the other songs are outstanding as well. without a doubt my favorite homestuck album

genesis frog: ??????? how is this?? this good? it's such a wonderful classical-sounding (dw not actual classical bc that is Boring as Hell) piece that encapsulates the wonder of homestuck's environments. i am in awe

cherubim: prospit&derse walked so this album could run. that being said, the similar tracks being next to each other kinda dampens the excitement on the bangers for me. also the day before i listened to this album my right earbud stopped working and it ruined carne vale and probably some other tracks that i didn't realize had stereo audio

collide: you know how much i love oppa toby style. well you probably don't because i don't talk about homestuck music that much. well this flash is the combination of 4 homestuck musicians using their signature styles beautifully and better than ever before in the homestuck canon. also james roach is there :D

vol. 10: and the final one that i feel like doing before posting this the first time! i'll do hiveswap/pq/^2 later it's just an obvious thing to post this on 4/13 instead of the whole thing 1 week later. there's a sense of closure behind this music. it shows how much they'd grown since homestuck started and how much it impacted them as a person. and it makes the album a whole lot better because of that

hiveswap act 1 ost: this is a soundtrack with its own defined sounds and they're wonderful but the tracks are too short to stand out. rustblood fell under the curse of of me losing all my enjoyment of it because i listened to it too much. sorry :(

hiveswap friendsim: i thoroughly enjoyed the commentary provided on the hsmusic wiki. and the music duh. probably a bit rushed? how often did those updates come out? like every 1 or 2 weeks?

pesterquest: this wasn't on the tier list and i am SO SAD about it because i really like the pesterquest soundtrack

beyond canon: this album has recieved a lot of my listening time in the past, but it doesn't bring me any joy when i know what little the dedication of the artists amounted to. their commentaries show how excited they were to be on the first homestuck^2 album. they didn't know how quickly the whole thing would collapse under their feet. on the other hand all the songs slap! idk why but this is the only album i had listened to a ton that has Grown on me since then. maybe because a lot of the songs are more abstract and genre-specific than the rest of the homestuck discography, and i can recognize and appreciate that now that i'm older. shrugs well i really like the music

hiveswap act 2 ost: good. glad i can comprehend what an ace attorney is now

thanks for reading :)