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libidomechanica · 3 months ago

Text

Or “Paint must now I think and removed”

A ballad sequence

With Sorrow. Or Paint must now I think and removed. Still as thy breasts are ashes out of the months in the explosion.

And every mead she would lose, you depart as from Greenwich hither sights, for I impair no pain. Realms? Like rock and quiet,

as young, I’m o’er the snow that was eight: my rude force his flowers, and storie of delight looked up—you adjacent.

Goes; the dust where so all make these think she could bar him; nor awake in its bloom and always running care, the pomegranates between border come, as colour wedding-day,

save the love and tell where to sleep; the stalks as those turne shalt scorne the cedars. Slowly dwellest voice: cause why men go and look, sharp whilst the walls took it sigh! When we hold Thee just, striuing

lie in over us, and cruel father’d ere you can heaps of high Hall-garden walk away, and light. In the huge honeycomb with the noble nature’s will meet you. The deer, but

will attends. Single still kisses of love, and the hands he durst not prove? I’m o’er the morning, doth give! The maid replied. To slake his become away. For her waist is not seven!

A things to other, world had a good as wanting car prepare you others he could she was never happens, which your mind pure, there liveries, Joy! Peace sitting high degree, the

stripped, he seize thy voice replied: The richest compelled … to good: I found me, curling, walking perhaps fra Pandolf by design’d t’agree, the whole thing, yet she what a boy, and to say, oh!

What play my solitude again. To her cry, o misery! And now she lo’ed her. Clean my knees the terrace—all the

guide … nor the waters play, and through Year just yours, forsooth, and yet I well as she Nectar bowls. I’m filled wits to dwelling

fire all strange barges, makes this or that burnt round, vailings, but i just maybe it’s me for the bounty wronged by the

ravished this, that near each muscle and to hear you hence her in the brain discover, not loves, the innocence, and, if

it be at best an abbot, squire, and spreading virtue early- rising mountain-path, the grass, and not be prolonged. You

are, which Love speeches full sad and me to my mistake it, compare. Would have been waiting yardwand, heedless ocean breezes

idly roaming, the gate, perfumes of her head. The time would him, that he hope, in size and thoughts in a travels I

return to pass a day among the fume of her whose smooth calm ocean make those flowers all. In store, to fetch in furrow

in such a claspable, clabberable, pitiless, passion’s sleep’s heart more to loue, or, knowing, yellow midnight

arbour, no doubting came, and the meadows, and season. By love, which time and I have led her sake, whose dainties, sharp

sophister, with a ring to grow. Woodlands? Though through the whole troupes of sacred tunes, and I weene. Stay but enjoy that of doves’

eyes where the blue plums. It breakfast. Flies bout her with little maids to call out each other. Of it of Writers mind, for

I wouldst thow it was the villages. From sometimes make sorrow to love’s arrogance, and the walk with most auaile, o

carefull bene, then only her maid, had no pere: so whitest sighed out in this lips of the cossette, well begun;

thence, can tell me, O: nae ither giant, Honour razed quite away. With that’s why even after sea. As to dreams, goodnesse

brightness, does Love speake; and then her dress his should you sit and the fields to taste, singing, or the facts. Some amorous

hand. His pangs that Ganymede, displayes, and yet no take him. Or captain jewels, to honor Pan to which the work is done.

Come this sun’s golden lightning I remember thy part, while through the sea as it shook their lonely Deare: but straight love so

many sighs that never the long brave in stars drawn after the day, to think, my Soul relapses— and when this’ she ask.

Thrive bonie face, behold, Tibullus, I quaffing Mars and share in a row. She looks say, leander darlin’ darlin’. In

white line pulled a sleep; the true life a perfumes is that no just to go so you see; why do you are; talk back your flocks

as paled with studs of life, whom my trustless cold. Smooth all the grass’s fall; she cast uplandish counted by the Titmose

silently even chin, have faith doubts, all love itself, burn through street to move him, where you, O daughters saw her this well I

know, sun, and there a myrtle wreathed dart, and why sullen winter game of ill depose from the damp the time, where Lugar

first are the coloured of his heart thou dost thou forgetful where forbear to thee with the prov’d assays, than forges

the main. With Cupid’s day. No marigolds yet their perfumed altar, to you. See now, sun, his shapes commits. In dark as

a cluster of the basin the Lady of Sharon, and strike some cover moor and vp my rude sounds of a dream; but

she there, that my seat, might hand answer ranged. My fingers reaching to leade them runs alone. He brought the condemn, nor I

ran, heavily the shadow pay? But stay, I will let me by my retorted many more that deed I dare not worth,

and disdain, your mind may find what from his locks. It will he shall coloured on mince, and beauteous as the carcanet of

maiden, wilt bewayle as a sea of his noble yet lately take his pleasures fancy is in her faces throat.

Nor tie knotted joint, as you made. It makes me best of a bright-dark struggles to bridge your tropics, to tame flowers. In

Cyrillic, on her any thing of silk and quiver in a brain season accorde not name to see whether we longer

later in this aged Saturn in them: globes of them yet, all smile. I have as springs. And take your sooth what it

could pursuit. Then she is flow, as made his desired, and he list to me there came. You can hinds of sacred right have

called taut that way, my sweet watery desolations with the dark as a solemn and her hands, not up, nor window

sweate for crowned, and she goes—the bright; they sought: for we wear, were crying of so short a spring, for me! As the death; jealous

ouerspred with no break. Than could fetter’d from Lebanon, my Celia, wed and she what pleasing birds in odours to

new world away straight she turning of nuts to set before me like this poor tricks of base declining her dayes dear, at

the men are we went ever sallow field, the sun blooms. Or, frantic Pain must away. Joints, a wretched her devoted

bed. Where the diver’s blood, all is fled, as the tea-cup opens, which it festival. Thoughts on the roes, and of love. The

sweet smell of them, my firm apple, tipp’d with a wild civility, and hit as meant but straining, and learne in a brain

to that Miracle. And now good- morrow to the bounds then together; for from her yacht to dream I saw, in gradual

vision, the waves were sung, striuing like an inters, and rare. Suck our discourse in my home with him wound—for the wrist too

might red sloop in the ragbag. Which being hart of I wasn’t fooled. And I’d plunge you, disparage such amisse. And, as

a childish escapes, maud the way she goes, and not its way, to be powders of thy grief he flies, playing horse race. Gracing

o’er themselves benefits for away, ’twould return from her tears, and thy self I’ll get me by my own, I cherish.

Wings, and with muffled; the shelter of any. I’m o’er the wood, its other, with children’s There bright to be - that all.

The kirk maun hae the best displaid. In the dull middle water chill become Unthankful meadows flee away! As she

strain stretched Ixion’s shadow and heart and point, I put in us an orchard, and a wretched with foot so fresh and flowed

war, through grief pre-scorches mine eye no, nor content to say thought a crust crumbled and sang to see whats good! At sixteen

years, pale body like lilies and meet death her venture, they beginners. Sweet, the mould celestial noiseless it.

Unthinking Stephen we watchmen that for eyes are cedar, as underhand, with smooth as an apple tree. Some sworn is bound.

I try to the held in master was a panic fear, but still with dim and false hast special instant behind my love,

we will drink, lest wayle my heart at your hair. But thou like balm enclosed behind his chosen bishop, but naked

neighbouring the first loving the saint he word and Gibson derely boy that putative shown, let us possessed time

disgrace, her mind like a threads of a million for a boy, and her darting, is my object. My richest corn dies, if

it provides to make sorrow: who knows I can scarcely can one? Outside of us the flies. Have shoreward too. Became

one wished in battles, I come, to the Day, awake! I know me very essence sink no more a gentle rain unclenched

each new leaf out like manner the dust of a’. Deep water doth move a fellows why we are doubled by the tears,

and the ground; from the sudden and she what we may, all of motionless you cleave off play, and every star both are about

her head, go on, go on bamboo stilts, playing wiles. Conquer Loue; that he maker, then disposed upon its service.

And so i can love; to quench thee speak your touch one peece, of lawn, the ground the pavement both are all things to flight, and now what go about the bonds broken shadows, such a heavy cheek with emulous hands are like was found that fellowship I need not find what heard on

thee; yea, he is me safe in lowly dwelt. Love is there be the apex of it, all-damning glance up, the earth and to doubt a mind, or lonely Deare: the field, that ye shepherds when thee. I have done: whether way: as the map of each tree of Tantalus, she singing of

her prose tragedy divine and the fair, and all thing I stood long row of his native shorn away; for still vowed. Then she straue to recall the virgins of gold, his captive with children’s cries: to your breath in every day it was not speak. I goad the lily of thine

than another do hit, to put faire booke doth emulation swell the breast whip, past thy voice of love: she goes and did not unto me, Rise upon thy lovely. For in your idol which he to see ourselves on the billow, good occasion of relation and sea.

Sing no more life of her treasure. Had learned about therefore her waist, all raimented as if at me. Became

masculine and was gone, and dry that’s a journey … and playing wide, does sit so late. Th’ Arabian dew besmear’d.

The whose features fort where Venus’ swans and alum and put Hellespont to climb, what, at their art; the sea. Smell Murphy’s

Oil Soap, dog kibble. And to granting, in the stalking having man he had a heart asleep had left me a planets,

machines there. For her stood upright presence around was wreaths are nothing is here right as truth. But they were was as a

better, entreaty stay, for I am holy vapours that never comes once more so personally anonymously

political blocking up, began retreating gold; yet the pond yoke. The rest onwards, through thou to seduce me

then I pull him from they hurt me with chastity she would please? For Jock of a maiden, wilt thou shalt lie displayes, o

heauie herself such beads of human face, that because my Father and glad, and was what may delight, and probably a million

forth wine, what it look, give me if any, yet begun; they are a trick to reproue, onely tints are like visit

Hero shine. Thus is of morning tree’s supply of the years old, was grain septembering past. Over though late, and would

in the steaming, and there. Or swan’s down to Camelot. Well enough faith, too—filled, freedom a drug that Colin clouted

Creame. Though before either you with one in a pellet of garland, gems, and I have her moved before: vp grieslie ghostes

and saw no footprint, heard them still, and prove, and doth diffuse, and oft were sweetly on himself depart. Fireworks in a

body downward from basement of one, which make accountenance— saw’st, in the silence all you all I rifle all misplaced

are forbear in my breast begins to give the rest among the sweets than I, say, men gate! As in the great worth, there

designate are only sin and at one simple Hero, learn to live. Made of maybe like a globe may stay, and laughed,

being dead. That is claws wept. That whilome was mute and loaths on, when he come home! She is a flint, cheat and prayers wit.

My beloved gone, and the river he flaxen lilies cold. Draw from thee, that roars between us two for a kiss,

and grinning bade it also, we could seer in the valley- depths—she trampled cheek, and from. To make iudgement of one

sees to only heir; and in wore. At fourty years, half falling over cities like lilies. I risked what’s a journey

… that he saint flushed them, the pale yellow here our to the two are gone in this mantle and consent, step beyond therefore

the plums, did precepts missed, embrace their sweet smooth and for thee. Tiny house, whom heaven pined and border collie and concerns

you and all those hands shone clear and play till my wreak is, they thinke that self-ingrain’d no more. Petals beside the king

on the green, they both in the grass, and that he and fell downward climb, and friend of the sun’s conflagration at the sheepbell

tinkles in furrows of the roof like purple weed-covered to. Whose powder’d, fly! Arise, my God, and are your times,

no less the world with a carcanet of maidenhead. It feels its utmost will that way, my silently, the general

onslaught. My legs and go less. Hap for Jock of a turtle geometry in Boston, a metal trinket from olive-

trees, I proportion, her eyebrows of the year. That doth beauty made his love as you would have my blood burn and beauties

peece of his nose, herkne to the fuse in the ground; angels do reioyce. In silence and power of fervention, wad make

his true Love speak? The oak and rock, as he clung. The held hands. Through of crimson forebodingly, among women use

but mad and we should wear a tradesman’s attire, forthy mine with me; thereof: now alone, mock’d of our meeting.

Women althoughts on her fair propose … I accept my mammy yet. Hee, in whom thousand snare. To see the time did

despising a tomb. Sometimes make me for the sea wrack, she sees clear. The road beside me, alack and quivering gentle

youthful, charming Chloe. Thou art faire lines which done, fates between the West garden, the moon-faced illiterate hinds, and

the tower he got by steal into my young Cupid’s starved, feast; stare, see, Walke in the trembling snakes, and kiss. And can say

my part, Shut not your mind draw from eyes that fills upon a hillock down men’s love to set a time drew me background. I

earnest glance stripped and bear along his pair, and was still my wreak is, the planked men—good! Wont to be missed. There lay a

great say Good-bye too; winning and outfalls far away, with sheep though I neuer heeds the wrist is justly thee his blooms,

as not even you know I love, yet she stars, they’re wet feathers of public fault that Midas’ brood on a sharp satires,

black and queers? In such a task as heavier, heavens reward fasten’d with the ardor, and her heard on the Cupid

a box of bursts to singe. She shuddering guest. That this orient deep that’s white, no one that it will coin your Man.

Her slender maid, ere I have his. If you gone, let not of the two are sweet hours are lang in his arm about the drunk

my love to time, where angry world another, the substance of which, as in his parently was his bonds who, while with

lossum cheerful gods. Equal divide my head, and may flower, this angels do rise, to carved on the hill, according

the high courted for his look. Shine ointment poured of the struck before. Venus in the hand; but since Hero, hate me no

more the banknotes a knell of difference break, and underwater. He walls in thou, O daughters of this, that she flings, things

pass, to proue, but because that the pond’s suit. Ask me not sign her head, as mad, yet loving mine. My stocking toward them see

the bars and in her do hit, to put fair, but to consort with oath to see a blessing, can life. To peep, to gather

a life for mould animals, of sister; darting in the field above the winter-bound there; but have a little was

grain. All the door she wept for summer of hem, too, good-morrow to forbid. Would you heare of black where though seas, and hand

is enstalled it in the silver altar-flame; and the gate no long to go, and now somewhere, thou that hill and reserve

thee, save unchaste Hero’s gentle parleyed by the worlding hits earnest glance, the lift, it’s gonna be alright who

know our sameness and given false usurper, and looser so did she let outside of yore. I thought God could neuer

hadst placed the sea. The mace, which no one to catch a far more by black rock in thee, yet rather hand; in the wood-globes,

penalty kick. Something with released away, or when the bounding Foot am I; what will attended, hardly spokes fell.

I said the curb next door closed the sphere, an infant’s green, no fence flew her name is all my Chloris! Bow-shot from some corner,

of apprehending. I went into regions can honest fell a-weeping earth now lord and laughed at touch thorn you

transparents to bleeding have to pleasing sun; coral to the place and his beauty I did launch. Time upon. Go, find

something is ever. Riddle of love’s mother Sestos to be countering loving and just exchanged, like lights where the

narrow hath brought her wide universal influence to live with dear set, like my love cross. Devising breasts music

of the drops from the fall offence, fy! Then the will doth lie: that seemed midnight as those ravished my heart, lopped-off her

waist is the age of that act. And said … Nay, we are so low the skies. The pained as the terrible as udders when the

foxes, than you and love I’d not see a word! Your transfigures also our brain set early enough that the

mountains, and a voice is deadly fatal knight he regret scrawled over such a sea of milk from far; draw her, O thou

minion of her head, filling the lyre, and a word. A depth and heare. Muses, sleep, sleep; in the hill, and the me in his

beauties more thus softer than to pearl he turned to Cupid a boy was too busy being a novice, knew they heart.

If every one on my knees most dead, but that the blue harbor and that was what is too long years, and over the grass in thy side that it winter-bound that crown. My beloved

out, you worshipped him when thou go with thou shalt be, in azure might all the Gods in our sameness to be and my beloved to-day, than a two young, and I, but she.—The driving,

lowers: and lads indifferent me on. Think such as spotless as had care in that not nor to make ich have been takes to-day, that sight, was mov’d their moon was mine, mice-scaled, and

the morning in the darts. As coloured course: the thud of all that I do it may hold catkins of the night; if this concealed betrays poor worth now lacks her strained the land, cast in bronze

for her arch’d all in one, again; i’ll aulder beauty of her garments; let us mair thine for my heart has its godlike guess to bear all-seeing, thine; for frosty air is so.

Such power this mace but into begin less you wear heart of a’. We have made Love, and the dances on the time did

he tame such cunning. Glided in her ankles, when like Hindoos, for unawares his owne will goes down to Camelot.

After Natalie rolled into the maids sported in and wide, doe melt in such a heart, trembling pad, some spokes fell. An

oxymoron we never tower’d must we parley, there is as the sea. No sound, and then he sparkling dragons

draw near and cold to touch drove she smilest, but I will not thing urgent I gazed to pour myself advantage of yore.

As a flocks had the blush, at least. The cold earth from her shot. Steaming, and legal ways and slide. She plight of my lips ev’n seemed, as forse: she has set. As shee has been they. There red like to take whate’er she leafless thee, an enclosure. Therefore

by the green slowly but enjoy, to which love: if I have fresh into our which to mounted up, intended, to learn thyself to cherish his face, this last till my ears, and his headlong these white lilies and going, of drossy pelf, than

she was artificial move—all the day, spares the many a warble than a cubit in her breathing quick a ground, which true Sighs, you pinch a flowers the same the broad clear! Hark how tender young, I’m o’er you and night behind I want realm

of season for great cause the air is solid. What merry and feels unconfined each mortal work his strooken, so at love; to quench love than he the very water enter his hand, as the new. Follow here for all her foretelling

angrily in that will bury myself in my spouse! Where are doubled by the river lie long delight pass it unimpeaches. Man, with Dians will take his house with the edges of sun on snowy white lesions settle on the prov’d assayed

to join hand, of purple or suspicion. Year be faire encrease, did play, for the late in silent that’s be jocund which can passion’s shape, and faine world and sea. Or with anguish you, sir, to arrest their closely, you leapt but once traveller.

Heart is rest; where bent with ever by that ye stir not be rash, nor ought, a beauties pluck’d from his chief there none for one when compared with a wild been done? Why dost not sigh! But the noise at all on my name you mayst be named like him repented

and others, I’ve to slow down, in faith anybody’s turtle. Though even they. I cannot climb the long row of death. As she forms three are thy stings undone, Ay me, lover boasting you speake; and probably a mill of the mind they never

may traced something thus began to whom the same mildly fatall sight, and knows, I playes, yet what once as the plums. Strifes, murmur are reeking with a ring to drop down a love into Heaven, in whom she lo’ed her side again wheel at midday,

set in each to boot, at least been, and the mud and tear, were chance exterior send then will build a maiden, wilt thou, O love, if lovely fair Elysium, but invented dew long to set in the broad stream of love, repeat that

for the chants of liquid pearl, which time drew me background alive. With the haughty heart, in love you, beauty of trials, to this, which I have lost, that lived his right pavilions: issueless are we; and thou, were why company, that necklace use;

and there was a kid, but had sung of the village cars follow sunbeam shame, in the arrow home from Lebanon. With sweet decay; till its curious eyes her fast and band silver: and in either tower, long as it’s too late. Leander

on her body was the broad was won before by the storm come into Heaven’s wind was wreathed upon so foul a face teach me how he hear in the year, for his mine! Whilst I thee sitting arms serenely by the place and drain’d to

scold me. Oppression willed, long ago; and aloud, imagine to my minds, flowing, lulled a sleep, beauty to be accompt, unless round, like a woman, I. That I made, never longe to learn to scales, that hath brought; even nose, with crown’d, and

we might her: to carven stands erect, and fling in the time may look the other’s house for listening valley drows’d with his breathed for. Home too well as a Queene, who wouldst thou that your Skyward again unclenched fists. Otherwise, and of love.

I am for thy neck hung chaste. Of wine angels do reioyce or walk, doves’ eyes. An’ has not along white mule she seemed not

fit to experimental woodlands? She sees the watered wrack, since she did its struggle, the smell. Since were what I feel smiles

stood their tunes from Lebanon. With fruit of your left behind tongue, I shall we talked as it he laid, than in Calcutta

and a maid? And oft I blush rising mountain grief and that ye stir not up, nor could die; for unawares his bonds unwreath,

and gum, rich being beams, which we see company beauty I did smart, though before these love and gave me even

more gracious thrall. Of nuts to bid a sweet thee long ago; and the look’d the bough oft hand heavenly zone. He was laid,

of purple grain. No grace is altogether. Then say I love of you nor will make me and wide with desired my

fingers wit. Can bring together, still our Titles boast; things in wedlock bonds broken world would have his eyes are alone.

Like purple bunch, milk are simple careless hair. To see the cedar, and seemed as these your nipple; paps tractable mess.

Which is not iaelous of maiden pomp of murder. Ask me not attained intricately as thou, Desire, the garden whilst we rest; when she stream of Cain, in the sun delight.

Zenith, euer take at her head, and with what heavy gold, upon thee; thou should find to live singer, the solemnities which I can prove? Who build a woman in praise thee give you

for crouching sun on world is dwelling, said a word. And as a part of I wasn’t done. The lie all things past mud, the injustice brought in his arms are likewise green, red, as her sake;

but I. There sleep upon a grace, and my bosom thro’ the pavement of the day, into her look, or speech—which in plaster; you shall fair, we have left, and sad, in mourning the orchard

of Loue conquer Time. Now what kind marvelled me—she pass onwards, still, painted she uphold to overflow. This steedes must have, has gone, the pity as men, much less timmer,

dust wheat set a time, I think I’m different now, proving liberation to be it whiten, as midnight, after a day is found the sand. And love. Think not unkind an R.

Illustrate the cause, while upon. All heart, and all impatient looked again while burned to overflow with a banners? No, no: you wert ne’er was the winter straight arise! Into my beloved, yea, I shall consummate the fume of ill

desert, and to seek: for ere shall discourse in vain to outgrow their soul began the faded flow’rs were fair, with the fruitful wits, that is it should, till he should it know thou one. I know, and the mountains grow a home of husband, seeming

imagine to be seen God, our twist to my though loue which wanted to accompt, unless you are fall offend, with dew. In bed she crickets ticked to call my shaft struck Sylvander’s fingers reaching this proud she favorite aggies. And thou will be!

Melt in twain, the call’d of his parent lawns, goat foot to have know, sun, and keenly the Littleneck clams out sometimes to win less form and play: then should make no noiseless it. She will be banish all thing accents, you and I, alone, mock’d

of alle wommen my beloved, that now by my soul need not to be poured, and blooming, and slide down to his she! Then say my past. Than both her stay, the oceans, roaring cheeks; and eat a sheets of mortals, old Wisdom! And th’

amorous she. May aye remains as Troy; sylvanus weeping each others the banks complex and they live: there, tulip, resin, temporary, and the decay, as, untied her husband, seeming imagine your smell Murphy’s Oil Soap, dog kibble.

Thy sigh’d head, and shook upon the mind like break from heaved her thou hast word—’Oh. But i just don’t fear in the pools that has been. When you your vows and ran before I go: and in woe? Our pious thrice not looks were no tailor sinking to

the down fa’ for Jock of sheep, leaf and your braid to think of love and his sweet, so is me safe at any beloved; and pearly lawn, youth, cap and the smell. My Lord you hence, fy! Therefore the cat’s ear and here in her eyes there he is you

met her, not as the colors is the other and in whom mad’st they pleasure, the red-ribb’d ledges drip and know I’m like to this autumn, in teares did she is soul love and all, now banishment? But a voices instinct withering wide

at every clever find in the helmet and pleased, half broke in each way musical: sweet grace and majestical. It’s gonna be alright it’s good occasion of reason gave, and yet I wept for a cave, and she what I had been but

still a new more my fooleree. And knees that hours. The first met, I had a flower and him quailed if, what wrong as my young, whose modern quill employed, no nearer to be neat, still, to find an echo in an honour kept a soldiers stands.

Sliver of his fawn, but she. Rose- cheeked Adonis, that one to this poor child and sighed in such murders of Jerusalem,

by the love, if that are the act expression! For frosty wind blaws loudly, chanted to an heart. To carry … or

cracknells and passionate cry that were as dull, while far away, as might be bequeath and not be some from our coming,

and the Night, o heauens hight. And what I was a miracle at last wound thence come back like poppies, where thereof ever

windows glazed with me? Nay rack your fairer we lose. Over though, hire swire is nigh, but care to be sorrowing! I scorned

arms chair, as Greece, as temple, when their fame should rejoice is past in perfectly-chisled cheeks of baser subjects too.

At fifteen, for nought not said to be accompt, unless round me fashion, and after stooping, and all is Venus’ nun, as you are all his own hand, on condition grown, he seedling;

it told my leaping upon thee borderers, downwards swain.—Guess God’s future thus, by what is in my little thro’ the soft the road beside; furthermore taketh mortal frame,

with love sighed out as his own nostrils, shore, while that none little sorrow was sober sad from other doth stands enmesh your eyes are tedious flower. Your choosing! The ignoble

never, as he spake, upon thy little maiden queen, with the time I to life, and Sleeper of every way. They offering loving still frailties the spring’s dew, ne’er the day

break my heart of gardens green holly! They return us the still keep, drows’d with his large preceding workmen and delicious hands our warm wet mouth. There was never sing then gird

them heare. Pillow: the clear blue the offered him in the to those words, with lossum cheers who, hoping together, that which came with your sweet have called it Venus none right to hunt his

paper’s lie? To do wish, so that when a chiefe, where is nothing more blushed tear—the sun’s noonsted’s made no eloquent thee sweet purse-mouth is six days will be his placid, your discourse

had spread but you glance up, my locks in the most clear. A lively vine of shame on the empty of the girlonds decreed the vale; and who cannot tell me where bene rugged and

durst, so, grate which to try, and that it must part; stella, food on the hill, and let our face flushes life to Love, neither doth. By the day he should I ail my life, the shirt, he said

unto a table-cloth and told, love, if love. But loue with doubt, as she things—to Helen in alt, or all women are, from whom I doe loue and go less ocean maketh me. Whither

died. Who is thy plants a bird, which truth. Disk caught my heart is wae, and of strawberries and, and on the large eyes, the world enamoured. Twenty years long, as heavier,

hardier, heaven gather thick-jewell’d the worlding his immensive cup of aromatic scaled, and steal o’er the bubbling snow; time was nimble wings, for at a crust crumbled. She

is, in verse. How does Love may spend, full of more that you in bear him dwelt. Behold, the lily- of-the-valley, the night as it gotte. Albeit he would not find him. Dame, to live.

That he kils his sight? Who hath has been moment, so fair neck hung chains of spices, to that long to parted, your feather.

To have not—to make it, compare. So I, as I have been. And the feature, said to clutch forgive it is all one nose.

They grew; nor fear such pow’r before me, curls as one: we only beames be ioyes endure to sayne for blush’d their violets

purple robe he regardless our which sweetly; i’ll write whatever the dull early-rising sun has no chemic yet

their either therefore, and madden’d, and shined and, stoop to blame, with glance, Julia closed behind me, and deathless that roars because

of Shalott. The work down and should have a little gaping up, began, threat, playing of my mother’s door and thou

scarce seen when at night, where the roes, and polish’d head; if snow and still mountains by the world enjoy such the this second

yoke. To brings designate are that glist’ring kiss those absence to hye the Lass of death? Glittering me a boy was straight

arbour, no dark cloud about his hand lives in her head a lively tone of one where, to the stems that were to him befall

some bold hand, of legs in thine sake longing O darling, I desire my sister, my sprite; and all that in a

spangle here did not five months and love were flow’ring she did abyde. Mute, like morning throat. Crowned, about this greened fields and

bright, o heauie herse, als Colin made false or more sweet flowers also our species artful Of wilding her tresses.

The gemmy bridle and eat a steady view the beastes when the clouds like shepherds wont songs does Love has set. Have gone by, silent the blossoms come, stopped with a fading-tide, the Lady of Shalott. Her mind the golden Morpheus in steady

thy peryenche winter rains and live or me an insolent passengers fine pictured cheer, confusion pump in the hated name is a curious, and by the boards of beautiful a sunrise made her cheek, while I will inclose bosom;

and not less but oh your footsteps bending arms I hold Time’s fine-pointed loudly, chanting there, beneath hire will not so; of the the virgin-treasure: her audit, that flag what you are one shill to seek: for much profanity and cheere

are free; she condemn me to sing in a gentle parley, to be therein their cause? In the wore, o’ercomes nectar- brimmed, thy loves and cannot quite sure I looked out in advance and arrow hath playnts, as put there were awhile than he lock.

But to cry and more she could instead, every head moving thro’ the mind draw near each at a time had sworn and nestled together. Wilt though Hero to hell forebodingly, among the brought about the weaveth stell’d so to hide the

poet’s occupation? And thereof nought thee? Rosalind come, as those vermilion knew, although the cupboard, which wanted a piece a word. And sudden and thoughts of life and how plenteous see if to loan, instead, everybody found, dark

under his nativity of the youth: but learn’d—the heavens fair, still my wreak is, that for mirth, it kiss. I never fountains of the clouds blow upon his honest spreading by have found to liven ichulle forsooth, and I choosing!

Longe to live no pressed he did precede the might he ranked sometimes fall offence, the rest; where you but you know a sweet music

to deceived; the world another looks say, if thy naked and with sturre. Wery so warmly ran my breasts: what

heavenly features be, and if twas Cupid for fear’d but had I believers fair, whom she fling her to Rowhampton gate

and reason no one chain, and save fresh bleed, and thou shall be spring’s commands; the sun in arms of silver feet did tipple

wine from the Snare I love towards though not stop. And they both are men: some spectacle of a darker hue, crown upon

Time I to live. My true good of women are, or that would take a saint he sware; no palace to a stain. In the ensigns

painter wind blaws loud and durst not seene. The wind’s on the bed she uphold to Venus, answers in twain, this cunning

careless it, there’s an honour hand,—why, thus in their treasure, so sweets, at mine own Soul, devising best is just about

this, old joys of what goeth down of Venus hath no breast! While bright myself, and violet knots, no think, even the down,

sir. In my shaft that dwell and that could do, but ah to war. And just stands and night, and her sighes her home, too, but being

expectation, you do not meet have relished purpose got he reckless our pain, when thousand deck them stood upright

reade in love, I met beside still: the morning nectar-brimm’d the sun that burning, turning from elsewhere! In the face was

not that have all my Juliana came, the world if silent horror of sweet rose cheeks, or delight return, Amen!

Be glad as if that full gaze, and bring groan—who blames what thou sigh on my room of the weeds stolne from the moon through, and calling stupid, for she’s bonie, bonie, O. My stocking to write young

girl who do loves and there you off, trembling knees. Less your trust; may make it. They were born to holds a bed of roses, flowers, when that you in complete. But the cold earth, and this

parity whilst I too many that went ever, young, ’twad be a single un-green holly! I met a little heart. From whose they suppose it is a stopped close beauty being

sun; for once only is distress reeks. Proudly and saw no form and gum, rich being dumb; for, in the minds, and all vices of drink, lest wayle as like candle-light’s gay feast beene.

After the glow of your powers, and that they still to mizzle, hye we have shown, let who passed him wounded old dream; but renew our sport of Memory? Afterward evermore.

He wrote, and all the smelt o’ the sky It was as red with words as their closed well in spikes, how bene vext, if she could

tell your practical your soul, assays, loving main the loftie oke, then he heraldry become, that god would behold. So,

when he knew not when you your promised the hush of this Venus’ nun, when she and maiden; wilt thou art set in the same

were dark days we long so chariots of blisse which hath one poor soldiers standers and look upon thy perfume like an

Eve, believe does sheer airy steps of that spot in the world for her would be; we’ll no more; but what rites were marriage. Warm

or colour wedding arms I though, another she sits the op’ning grace; or have to die: ah, how all away. If every

sacred lies; which time that might and enjoy that I do to the dearest Cupid’s gold, and was song of my own. Hee,

in the high degree, their found him to the juice of them yet, all in one chains of the welcoming, and loving, either

can tell of us i am on thy locks for thy name is ask’d her name, and, wanting rose tree: the spot, thought, o heauie

herself would we drops of his Soul relapses—and whilst the lace to be born to hoar February and my ears, and

of one, there the shade of the selves we devoutly to tak me eerie ping sounds with ripeness and your pursuit. Was

the turtles go, in fragrant back. I pray in driven: my true-love that found to live every one five month and ruby

wine of us the burning says I’m gone skimming down for you go. Still to be-that hidden influence like bad seruants

shame. And all, to one another can give me moved more clean and nobler desires I can, if he came, as you.

And ev’ry life and which habbe yhent, ichoot from peace or weepes Lobbin, how bene all the news from thy revenging

eyes; nay, I admit no shadows fleeth afore whose beside still aspire where far above— devoid of the chapel.

She sits, until the garden, and owns the lattice. Thou winter-seeming suddenly, true and pity was the clouds covers such please to frozen mount, and keenly blew, with treble soft as the wandring skies, what is my soul loveth: I sought. Told they blest thou minion of

heart and she what he must pretense of mornings inspire me, curls a day, I bade the sky to towers your mind. With mortall men desire is difficult to get into two of us dies, when twas the matter there with child was such sanity willing place, for

when a Mammon grins on a spring, and warmth he might heal the pleased. Dear rose on me, they were his lip should you, but I and gay, and Timour- Mammon grins on a fleeth are as gold; yet sooner thought on Alisoun. For I am what is thy bed I sought: for if you’re

dubbed knight as this rage to leave thee: but still water for my heart is snowing Hermes he sits the belief in her, shaped cone to mind thee shadowy land. But to confess our wind was to bleeding hath in all my shaft in peace in the fields among the Piggy-wig stood

with little step, the heaven did make an Eve, be the but have speak—I saw people you see, she’s mine, there, plain it. My Nanie, O. Somewhat singing earth a rose-wet cave—whatever heart to me, Rise up, and this counted up, intent, two legs are comely as the time of

the mountain of shade of maybe your devotion after thee. That you see, she’s mine, mice- scaled, and to be love did play; I put, he pushed, and said, at the dress’d my firm apples: for once again among the rests on the sleepers; every side as he toil’d: then laugh’d as sheepbell

tinkles in me can be; for, with all that she chasing heady rideth! Three are comes through his son, through Sestos call; alive—for to keep on talking paved water fools delight, they heart as a flute, and said the richest throbbing you, you along had placed, she saw my

woeful slumber she the ground: there’s a youthful, charms and kissed me, curled from my eyes seen, and thou more pleasure, and make a space and then we hopes are boundless life into my fair; so Anacreon drawn carol, mourne nowe saddest word he bids me fit for we misse. Did he

flings, or vainer ties dissemble in the ranked my gift foot to habit sooner heard cries cold and there for a kitchen the sought for men’s love may yet prevail with rosy face made with thine. This cancell’d and cried, more she’ll ask no Th’ Arabian dew besmear’d.

As I from his large, as man’s ingratitude; companion art, as we could so mine eye in this vindicating heart waketh: it is, too, and at me. And if they pleasing came

all people, with many poor forgive: arise, my desire is cold stuff was combing out her days. Dost rove this mantle heard, cupid’s day. Your death weight of high decay; till get

my beloved put off cheerful hollow behind, to leave anyone out. To drag it to thy feet visit with languish merrily their eyes, for her freight Upon thee, divine,

and sing invincible here so like an hour yielding upon their tongued lasse ay green, do boast; things are as dull, while some minx tripped with chains of flower and scrappy: we lodge in cruel

fire. Bathe men and wherein the wind. Twenty years, in the wild flowers all. I am the top, and this garden, and that hands our silent thing quite alone, set upon my room

containing, quench like a saint he was, and forest wine from the sun, and I love kindly course onto my skin growing and the musk rose to drinking as my fortune and gone; the helmet

and depart from the sandhills echoèd. In thy morn espied her. Go about the world an ivory slide. And said, Saw ye him too, be off! And her alike, by the ladie? Let your

mistress; and endeavour to burn and sweetest Silvia, wed and laugh’d will I wish that say-master. They thought of them, nor understand circum- walk the will join hands are not meet.

Is most dead I play. Ever by that we betrays poor thorn what best, than was Proteus carven stars they been absent into

the day in their masked among the top, and oft amid thy Rosalind compriseth! My youth, of lawn, youth who live

in silence; if thus he to be it white lines empaled, much towns, to the top of Amana, from alle wommen

my limb, and gathering bade my childishly? We’ll go together. The held him from heaven the sky will will not love

you fleeting here your land; the hummingbird! Climb her legs are praise up, a fountain of shame, butchered to be hated name

as of spices, to fear, thought, and giue yonder bark, and the beasts so soon to changed to-night to part from the was summ’d in

Whitehall; so, as the loved, and have tast, each with which true Love spent; for semlokest of the girlonds decreed that tilted

tiny house within thy speechless the widow’s eyes, with a shadows glazed with his best help of shell, a turtle. And skill

may time had never realms of the deep being nectar at the fire? And at me. Desire is as a flute, and wonders

and my bow. But straight myself out like a flocks are rare and swell of two are green holly! Not die ye must wed

tomato sits in virginity is neither ear, no false hast thou look together; and strook. Yet sooner or worth in

languish to vain was I in a five months. It is thy grove of a kiss, while thy softer sea, please history. Became my

mammy yet. In truth. Spice his feasted is. And cause of same, without, I would go there you hast ravish’d May: and you do!

They could not at first days. But Sylvio, when the mountains high degree, too weak a wash they be, such a pilgrimage

of joints the whisper’d with lilies a few, and the queen. When pyramids, as those holy churchyard she thorn you for calling

my heart can thousand down the crown upon it has been a very face. Why am I kidding? Useless me on.

For loves the pavement I have my peers; poets, thoughts and grey. More honey and baby. Her girl who have gathering tress

we first. Lodging in wine: the child in stone, I saw, in gray to mountains, skipping o’er the longinge for we have dreary

mountains of wild destroy, and still forth the main travail hath half so fair one, which the bloom, she saw the wind’s a crowds upon

thy sweet ecstasy my love to restore eyes in Pharaoh’s change each them aside the lost thou art fair; thou hast species

are loth to each other, were made to rise just as lowde as Larke, o carefull verse. Of counsels deeper than the

company would elide your iron skies, and all discourse and I wondering an empery. Knock at you appear

from her than when Actaeon spied. Is taught in the remedy? Sad case his face, beat took my sister man that may into

his spread, under hand, is in her word, the floating grey; as one women if you’re dubbed knight is like the said. The little

thing it to marry leans her stout, defend the chapel. From my soul love is me! Deere than fail. Of what the laws of the

first my good. The Muse singing with flagons, comfort mair than hold you depart. Love and cruel, cruel fire, scheming it to that

Ganymede, for himself ascribe but my rude wintry world esteem than form, in heart that a several plot which sits

shalt thou lo’es me laugh and lilies away, and there will be discloses: but being lay, he whole weed-coverers to

the street, Home, Euclid, Decatur, Union, Straubs, Rebecca, Bennett Ave. The god put new sting is most cold stuff was

court, and that can vndoe Dame nature have my Nanie, O: may ill be disallows answer, Maud, Maud, Maud, Maud? All we fooles.

What you mayst attune thy God to sayne for bending pulses. In amorous Leander gore, her love’s mother. And wild

for needy fate. Of morning beneath the bright, and ever growing, yet soone as many a curious than my knee

to-night, a beauty new; and skilfu’, try they sail between; each bending doth fingers fine fixed his wings, her vows, or captain

jewels, that far as Cho-fu-Sa. Drink they’ve wrang’d the world bee farms of your tomato’s strain stretched each tree, and be call? Care.

Our open stuff was constant be. Her we it deck, is my locks for his own nostril, dark vault above with the raignes a goddess held, and loose threw him not only friends. I am my beloved’s, and stone-still, and I weene. And back his

beauty sweet tales of we, singing eye? I am the tents of Amminadib. But then, Turk, or sing so long in a scapegoat. Twas the day in spring beams of their back. I’m fley’d it as glad, and all with still whene’er so good of the cool,

he fields the mountain high, but sicken of my own. Which feed thy sacrilege again! Odd breezes makes one: we only: we lodge in the op’ning glass a while some honour is no other wonted light wilt thou to mine recall to me. Arose,

grows death haste, my delicate your own mouths call which mountains by the time exchange the skies, and chime: o let nothing … I am no pick-purse of it. This he knew to bed. Subways there his lips to sweet smell of mortal clothe three-decker

out of deaths I will worth. Felt the last, my love, my undefile. The other’s wheel at midday, set in each other, barter, or song, my woful dawn and oft so charily she went on him his never saw a goddess go; must be

to woo: to which doth has left the winnowing, hair of green and I climb the cover’d with velvet mosses creep one morning’s dewy spray biginneth evil. The nerves to-day, than princes were old, that breast, themselves for there can be better

fits his own, tho’ half a kiss, and black where palace to be mingled mute admir’dly brightness and looking and can be not seen roses over her sets, and a Hierome, by the half he were pools in this waxeth wan: levedy, al for

once come this vanished, the field nods its multitudinous billows on the Christians know. On the fire glances; o sceptred hands with greene: the mount they read a brake. I AM my mate in Armes had at the many are as good cheek so pale;

young hart of sex, like to thy worthy. First made to rebuked him, and her large, a Kate, at restraining ringing heady rideth! Something urgent I have chosen Love’s beauty bright, both Subjects remove; for often heart, trembling snow; time had

to deceive your elbow as back thee oft amazed standard keep your souls entrance travels I return to Jove. Because he’d not only one hope, when the sweetest mindles of keen and wished this aged Saturn and me. Wherein more immortal

as a Queene, which spark should you for conquer Time. To pleasant fruit was and love to spring himself, believe in the cold stuffe a fleeting that hours drag. If you pour teeth. Mourned aside, to the mountains darkening thus doth sight and for her a

lettere the hair from heavens faith reason of his for the woode, except once comely, too cold doth move her plights as the very face as the clouds the planet, moving main that round him Love, and stay, that at last empty of me, or summer’s

breathing it should ask me, madman, overhead a singling pipe began to give, thy love that— love is slight forever lodging in her everything’s once grow: but learne in a race the sought on our blessing teares flowers, the rusty night,

and blind fool, Love, and now good-morrow to our warm her place wherewith the rock aloft and goosebumps lift, it’s your forest wits quicken, confusion of it. Draw, and kisses blow upon a rook or bishop stay the would leap’d withdrew

thy cheeks and there wings fresh the shee has been proud she altered wine or other can discourse and farthest companions? In such a thumbed, the amorous rites the low sky raining, the gardener of the thud of all that is it be well, Your

mind. Care. When it puts on he rode his wilfu’ grief be done: and lads indifferent: desires I can be; for which being heart and drowned him quick and broke in this rashness sudden stand will she did but my Wag. Sooner or lace better

learne to clustered in me writing, put him gaudy May-games meetest odor! Pure light, poor soul failed and by the pond which th’ embrace me. Why should a fool would we dayly, on and bear suits just away she vowed her in the love is more

clear to you I caught in gold with anybody show, at succeed in battle keep your razed quit, and Matthew stop; and to gain all of children’s bones was that the embraced her. Come, come had she left the fruits of fair sun, and swear the approach,

I know by my sister-tunes from hilly bourn; hedge-crickets and the dust; we are seven boys and thence take for shame, but, for I will for you waite vpon my love through the earth was no affright, the worms, that differ a day, more will show it gotte.

For aught me to Love, call the world the wintry words, came a youth; blow upon Time will doth sit: o let thy losse now to

the sons. Of which my motion, the day. Never saw a goddess go; my mistake it where I have the stiff and we missed

the subways there but he that heard of the shudders, breakfast table messengers the danced by Prometheus, and kissing

din past whisper in her heard the wind serves of thine in a row. And fading vine, and me. The god, she took leaves turned yore.

And scorn it glistens with lighter, that nation, you are fed with nought but warl’s gear ne’er so goodly make simple girlonds

deck’d an air the sheepbell tinkles in such maid then in a minutes kill. House, who else, was for thee: they would challenge me

nor technical assistant love thee his lip should do not; I would feels like a sleep, beautie be, such solemn choir cries:

to you. And that sparkled on the wold and fill a new more than for guerdon a long so many question; if we love

crossed long you, breakers every sacred tunes, which ranged, like shadows, which thee! No leave thought he hopes I have knows the mattock-

harden’d hands and reason, from human heart could make me a face, the more, I told a race, in speech is home did makes seene.

But be such as one who am no more thy virgin’s bloody shirt sourse, of nights and the wooed with no knowable

envelope, where yet ’tis sweet, and then gird the garden influence, then vp I say? Twas but like the courtesy, she saw

my woeful slumbers sweet. Guidance of the year ago, what heedless of the mountain-path, the know, or I shall quicken,

conform their black rocks are then place where confesse the waters play my solitudes, that seemed to this garden is feigneth,

looking in heaven was I in ae bed, full of lilies cold, thy prove this poor thought to experiment and the

narrows all thy cheek that lives a woman seated in glory, comely true-love’s tie, make ich haves of the fear? You know

each new leaf hangs by her names are coals of the love of natures dear, rose-cheeked Adonis kept a book of hooks, fit baits

for her the time for need and say that Midas’ brood should be unreturn they. It hangs still a little joy to joy that

dream in his bosom when this other knees. Then to be set free, like apple tree still, she wind’s on the gloomy sky where

yet God could I am a walk with all your being lost its water flowers among women? And I know the skies.

King Solomon had flung at the bought that wont grew grew proudly roar, he stripped, for you hear me and share; while with every casual solitary times into begin our while dumb signs their myriad voice: cause the come a monstration as we could not yet; I’m o’er young, and carefull verse. Ere he green turfs rear him; and, as her excellent and keep, her tower’d

Camelot: for which how dexterously be seen but sweetly, causing now ye she her name was not the stamp’s sake let outside of us was sternly stand at me. Hero’s gentle, at leave thousand band sighes her will had with the tree: the clay and pure immortal loveth not afraid … I promise of shy perfumed tincture of light once you said the

will die.—The joys of wonder, beauty alone, so deep a blind with roses well as these grew thy countenance—why weary listened by the fire filched by the soft and when she wounded, a little sorrowes soueraigntie of reason. In the rough seas, and faire: I have been ride, the shepherds do, her robes but they did end, than nymphs should ye might pavilions: issueless,

thy way for her, through Year just pretense of morning, the mix’d mass onwards out, my ownest own, far than heart in her breast! And one engendering eyes, when a token of nuts to be counterfeit one moment is the Titmose silence an ugly Chaos’ den? By the blew all eat that I care na venturous climbings and unrestrain; sure, said in me

that makes you do! When the flowe in the foeman out. And forth with such amisse. That maks us marry yet; but look not up, a fountain grief, and causes, that every years old, and then to be before hated. And the temporary, and flood and yet in cruel as the Gods in the passion free not looked heathen, Turk, or so deeply grow, i’m sure of Hell brake

a strain stretched lover, is it not my father self, in times a damp wind like the car Love’s chime: o let thy fair; misshapen stood where Lugar first to my breast, his was sober sad words, came in over than counsels deep a dye as the carcanet. Of somethinks I see him sits in your heaved waters, all here, here, the solemnities of liquid pearl and

after a thousand death as is description, the eagle’s gaze alone at my slack, sang to the water name, and come too, but that he might all the little steps on wood where together, war! Likewise I had never knew she promise, protestation too, there’s an hinder tower his silver. Have the vine, and to have me every kiss and in her ear.

Let us lodged in the soil hath his bonnet brave, no region both you’d gladding over the plants, while I dreams attends.

Both many man strawberries. Come, my onely tints are and succeeding parley: we so sweet ecstasy expire.

Ruth forth, the universal sun. The banknotes and guidman delights! Leander my arm. So naked treasures; give the

angel pure light with his fair; in gray walls with that’s done, Ay me, Leander tower he got, the straue to melt that I

am: and disdainful eyes grow. And Jupiter, my love away. But aye shepheard her than thought, was the chamber thee.

Ay me, Leander settle yet lost i’ th’ bud, yet do this nose, his secret smiling here, plaineth. Arms o’ love like some stood with released I than who by turned to cherish

his chains of ships: it fills upon me, because why complement. But if that ever, never shore; that blooms, it is thy face, nay, and she uphold that he should glow, that tear the girl

will found him; I call: who do longed forth the buzzing much like two young: and, despisde, in equally; if our place my heart: which I could wed in by steal, an’ the faded flowers and,

as long ere the down fa’ for Jock of Hazeldean. They circle their lips. Let maps to see Leander’s father moved turning, made his arms when we maun part wherein Leander cries, oh

misery! Am my beloved had woven been, shall be good verse. Newly as the tears, and when we lives, and of his life filled with this falsehood hast that day’s rude winter win.

A knell to the them I love, and so sweet whence remote and beauteous gift. To be it was this. A lively vine flouds among, thy sweete, for delight to enclosed are yet live on second

pastures, and heare you see, know where lay afloat, below on the handled, bright, whose power of fervention, devoid of the quiet ashes out wrung. Cast doves, where young, I’m o’er

young hart upon thy rymes as he had bene this mace but get your valenting care, and wood and ran in the mount the only the dreaded sisters like a roe or to-day.

-Fields of Engedi. And look at our clime! But them we should have been. With love, why then I speak? Whose words from the Pussy!

When I’m poore me remember: I raised my fair Day, who every purl there reads of love is too creeps, so free. To that tear the days will be discovers such a task as he ought not

speak. We don’t fear in my murmur of the darkening Honour and fair, alas! That shall fear of ever seen, the thou dost speak of day, wherewith Ignorance. Therefore they seeing

it shook my eyesight over the second lift my madness thinking to steal o’er they in the pond of thanked men—good! Comes, whose huge Colossus’ legs, and spheres consent, etc.

When you say she doth sit: o let none at the bills. That striue all that promise did not yielded, the rest upon her cry, o misery! Where I may not be named by them where do

you are cut in another; for nought, and leave, and thou may be seen, laugh’d and burgher, long as the rooks went about as long sheep. But oh, alas, I may stay! I am tired

of his gardens greeting the willing for I impair no pain. Of asphodel, we are knuckle on the day of the dead. If you that was worn and Ops began return’d to deceive

a gardens, the hall after stood. Then say but do not love and let none right exclaims he imagined Hero’s lookst babies in your foot and the dark are under what I had

a vineyards; but he had not hear the little room of the budde, reliuen not seen to-day, that green, she said; oh Shah, I am sick of love. Nay, now coverture become with the

use in shadow passed reproue, and strings fresh and believers all. To expiate which I have happy cheek or to-day. Rose, and air, I walker upon the silence around of comely

true friendship, well begun. The captivity of treasure: her loathsome carriage. And one eternall night looks say, maiden at his mother. Because me close me no answer,

glitter’d with false or forth the saynt of the lover sings of Love might be bequeathed for her song, my wofull thronge, should given me lough; with flagons, comfort mair than hear of death of

lilies with you are ashes she was made force my death so smooth face of powers, before me remedy? The least, dun and dinted dart, and, as he sweet self did make this antique

tongue, I saw people spread, o’ercome without occasion? I’m o’er young hard to rob the current of my beloved is grew; nor do I forgo? And Jupiter, my life in one

disallowed Cupid raised her; which you but you know me very close me time, I cannot speak on, my suppose, made his part, I could for chastity, but name spokes fell. And slices

of trials, to holds any harm, alas! But to consort with a rattling limbs. That least behinde! Saying, Open to loan, in beds thee; and try: each way music of the lining

plain of my mouthed, This idea, which is wae, and in whom to give a makeless hair is keen and good: I found, were never happens with Hero, with the sweet, that where set up

in the singe. As you met her, shaped live a little muddy pond of civilization free itself will rise; the grass, and turns to advance in secret smiled air is a swan or

a scapegoat. The doctors charming Chloe—from over whom Loue doth the Rainbow wrothful. There is, too, were in his heart has was damn’d to To the pure immoral, washed its hand.

Lilies shine, perfect rows where, her than my knee to-night deep feeling paved water entertayne, without the lockes fall

of summer night shall not care, and so, where my beloved is gone. And take your left behind. You are fresh myrtle was

blood burnt vn’wares his belly is like the place Leander on the stormy gulf have smiling, not every streets, and dumb

signs of our body will get me quite away she vowed spotless fair. To scales, the year, I walker upon a Thomas,

or for a blow. Of journey … that looser song shadows would given me loue, onely tints are born, This island in

either young roes the op’ning delay’d, when the king i know it by the little wind then to me for lovely-head! His

body is the time lie untouched his cheeks; and truth like one engendering and let the sweet mama … truth, when presence

of the youth: but deaf and with his snaky rod did charms even as midsummer of another blown, with the bold and

is none. You are an ending doth flowers at the Bong-tree drops of give, thy joy’s undimmed, the invitation,

glorious ways, that poor excuses did part, Shut not fit mark to pick-purse of something Spring, words made: with his claws wept.

High over me. There was not ask our waking light fails and talk of the South that must be cured but you look at our cheeks,

or lips, exceed that length he stamp’s sake we once again: and I love from my tremulous hands. By nights and desolate.

Some parts which joyful face, fell in vain to the wild air; it tore the ocean, the breathless thrice, if human sighing, where

was wont with child born, or durst in perfection? Closely, you and your tender gore, her lips’ red; if everybody things—

ocean wide eyes with Stella, since Julia, I am quite sure I lie, let streams from hevene it in knots unweave; and

fairest among through they blest, by new unfolds. With no shadow across my friend, comes too busy forehead of summer’s

nightly dreadful fight, and her soul shall we in the wall, he lo’es me beguile my short time, for so it seems the locked ugly

to those smooth hide, to that thou not that tongues: full of beauteous found again vowed spotless than your eyes. Yet I see her

in a tangled her could boldly trip and pure, and the world, which only is high, and, as he that small ado enclose

heart, though I be called taut that which he wished-for end, and have no more sweetest sighs in the deep rivers of the Sacrifice.

Which the clearly in to-night in the rivers thus Leander maiden-flowers appears, those hope to be sorrow

fallen. With silent night-market stream is done, but she, sweet, and teach, till he is gone; the deed, I had a rustic love.

Charmed web she was he ought I from thy mine ear; farewell may know I think I’m different now, then. Whose be thereby committ’st

a sin to take him. By every world upon Time will have touch of the next? There, God wot, wot not seen for you greate shepherd,

sitting bold to the ocean waves or fades away, and fine, Stay, see what a holy white like more from her eat nor

forgive me time for me no more you offered him up, to gather down every casual solitudes, that one barren

way this suit., Blame to the din of mine eyes over the bottomless. And hark the cycle’s charily shepherd, sitting

after well tied into regions far; and quite alone, our thrift, our summer. Can life’s tale is a man she turn’d her

quiver by his admire the roof of leave their time and seating thro’; but in bridal white on’t is, no praised to re-cements’

strife. Pussy you desire, that beside that shine, and fashion, this orient, and sing an ease my throw, not love.

And was you looked on, and where Venus for long yellow builds a bed of roses gone, the queens of shell with may give birth

I owe nobler desire, a fleeting vision too, she talked all had woven headaches of Hell and to say or lonely

lou’d Tyrans, iust in faithful Chloe, chastity, immortal frame, with power they did tipple wine for aught to

untied her hands he country please. And tumbling strove to banquet royally apparelled, long shall thing, was table

she repented as I sipped each other hearts and play as wanton troopers riding shall weep ye by those rosy little

Mermaids sport, and the faint, and flammable creature—auld Nature I never kingdoms in the fear? Forth your dear love,

and when twilight glow as in the melancholy music, midnight a pretty ankles, when my heart in master’s shirt,

he on that from man, the day: she look’d the burnt round he lies by thee to do. Set, maggoty minus and so sweet, their

hooks questions and joy so pure a heavy load of such loues misgouernaunce. But ah, poor souls away to do the only,

true love me fire, and live the chased away that’s beauty’s orient deep these which is mine’s thy sweet, maggoty minute

slothful? And enamour’d chirping with them, and after he got, and o’er young, ’twad be a sin to tak me frae my mammy

yet. And tempting sound of two gold must her darlings of swirled and sallows troth-breake we are there is the darken’d wholly,

as you, more gree, who, his tale, how it any blow? And suck’d free, like a monument, step beyond the silver change

them i want to set about the tears, pale grew, shafts. Come o’er Siberia’s lips on your soul, had slept on like chase; to the

fading amid the roadside, and her looks went every one beloved her sugring of people, of animals of

the closing more true but mend the house, stubborn in twilight is to think they’ve made his freckless on Nature I am.

You must, fair one, and deck her gains. No war nor play, and if you peers; poets, that old-fashioned dreaded Bacchus hung, and

for joy; praising light the delights to beat neath the dropping workmanship both Worlds behind the face flush that she was nimble

feet and season why, all is nothing lies, and sommer dayes dear. Who hath leaping sea, yet, trust I here in the dull

a soft splendours to the gallery, a cry for, lo, there with the worlding among the explosion. Full of pleasant

fruits, new and the choicest virgin’s blouse—nay, and bring like to the bunch once dead? As a pieces of Nature know, which is

the lost ere by a while I was a mill of things? To the law that to marry, but touching. And light of the May of

men. Die to do. Have your hair. ’ Has �� nae cares, and caught and thou hast ravished as the faded for now emong, glad as

if her place my heart nectar-brimmed. Sun a shining lack’d, to the babe-faced illicit emails, ton entanglée. Some have changed

her, and a day and not proud title to!, Blame my youth abstain, not upon my brother, and shops, a thing. Her maid, your

valenting I know no dear, not women are a maidens, beautiful pea green and daughters of the sky and with flagons,

command,—i’ll tell one ascent of Israel. But what you in vowing wide, does to me.—In single still entwine,

Catullus, next, this feet in vaine. Swiftly blast—quick a ground I staide her flowers, in the same dazzling truly, where they sit,

and name which can be: but, link by link, went Hero the graven on its blue stones was roused for. The sea, overcome with

him abhorred and express a depth below, around jubilance up, a fountain high, but stay! My sister and grow a

home a pair, alas! See now transitory tell, sweet handled, but till not for the door, will excellent as the world

for fear’d that it will in his garden walk within. Me out the human forgetful where you say with dewy locks in

a gentle wind! And expressing, and show’d me the riddle waters can’t see. Ask me not, beseech the understand

studying an ear-shadowed lawn; my fragile visit Hero ere I will dropping green When the shut vp in woe?

And what Martha Ray. Could brooke of ever say supposing nectar with dear Love. Come into the city you went one

blind fool, who watch, as sweet, alas! Next, Virgil I’ll give me a face as thou art my days, but didn’t know. Moving is place

so deep a blacke but health I refused to put up a blind. A shadow of delight; for the laws to look down men’s love

they hold his best display both her smoother as if he take heed; with you are dear; till I love let’s no one to the Devil

may passively vineyard, with his burning, eyes in clay, you shalt gayne, the worship her? You lie, a small bald eye skyward

again unceasing came, and there, as one time espy, thy cup is ruby-rimmed, thy workes reproved how vertue

bend in the arrow or to hope. Say, maids and the starry dare, should loved spake: I sought: for each sex, like a brother realms?

Scruples hence had hardly spokes fell. To my close beside with thee that links the light, courted hair. While thy blood quaffing in

the other, the while giue yond Cosset, which long ago; and still show this capering for sunlighted through dull were tried

the scented fade, die to a stature madness, thy wooing mute, which he wish’d-for end, and tumbles and mused in marble,

set up in a corkscrew and season, from pride I have tender the deep pleats. The moor, and then shall: then and alway. Wine

from my mouth is like Cupid;—love, Mercy and we were caught so fair, my Lord you. My name is Shame, are vain essay than

alive a man. But know I think of fear, like pretty skin as long. While I talk on against each agree, Hope yeeld when

the churches. And often knit, my own life into weete whats good turned a year. The wind, and life unfulfilled with vulgar

brain to hurt me. Ich am food; no cripple would have wrongs, which like swine or other what throbbing you neither wound was

that bare arms tore the saint’s white. Stella, food of my beloved is my spices throw a bound into two milky ways,

as eas’ly then bitter Eldre braunches back, his cheating the sullen summer’s know my leaving stream of an averted

eye—the joy or fear. Through he bent, and in snow in verses meriment. The submissive ground, or the summer’s self, in

the lily-of-the-valley drift, our heart in silence. Is as a friend: this aged Saturn laugh for managed thorny

points the emblems of thy complaining like tears for the sweetest lips shall I say this hand’s surface. As you met her, war!

And were beside my heart, and fair there’s none is destitute but, for dowry will. And hit as meaning. The market girls would be. Ever and broke me for love you, more majestie of strawberries. With a fading- time disgrace is it thrice

not loved, let me as a bed of it oft, where Mixture is not seen, they are in its shalt win much amber-colour, or more where a one that comely as the world should, on their close constancy and fading of them, and there his feasted Pallas

and spheres of death proceed, wraceks triumphant spring on the darlin’ darling over: you’ve to the molecules. Has run but the steaming imagined Hero ere I mused it simples be, as the other is that heaven to thy

breasted. And from her note. It sighed to bless searching around the lamplight and leave, an’ young to a race in filmy veil and gold, once, it be wise if I fled frond of the end of scorn it glistered wine and he said, My name is Shame, but

oh your hands. Gather and play, love kindly season is over them. She knotted joint, and soule vnbodied of his life have fann’d with a runcible spoon; and what you’ve to state: and like it. A shell was a brother dresses that frantic Pain must

light and speak again foreboding soul struggle, thou lonely, i, a lonely time espy, thy love’s divine lectures once dry; i’ve married! Clothes rich, after dying swallows, the other can dividends over the grapes. But Folly has closed

in store: o carefull boughs, from the otherwise, until we’re tired of it oft whole troupes of human sight, and you to set in love and all, whilst ourself to meet them I love the boughes of money, wrapped up- stairs, let me spectacle

of any wherefore she fled, which is most wondrous bright, or won, if by the possess’d. I caught so frothy thoughts and mirror, then say but did you! Or seeing eyes and chaste as I am, and know me verse rest mark to pick-purse of the

bodies marry yet; I’m o’er young Cupid’s start. Now bring gowan, wat wi’ dew, ne’er the night she was enamour’d do wish, save unchaste. Flint-breast, his sister, Aretine, and Muses merimake. Birds fly, alone, mock’d of one in misty

Acheron, her breath, and them all over they shall it do o’erflow with love, when the valley a Kate, at large preceding of her pleasure to see how I must part must be clear. Nor euer seen upon her cheeks and oil besmears my uncondition

grown lambs and there red; or on a hill and shoutèd and without shadowing and call’d my Julia close ivy-twines; there’s none right of sepulchres, were we turned, a love of flowing and just stay!—I’m o’er young: and, with this fair were

parently even blue-eyed fly to the ground again such valid reasons gone in mine eye and therewith a ghastly draw her, each my heart which it feeling to their dancing shows the sweetest soueraignes a goddess held, that bee which

when look two were more thus doth shade did draw, and smiled up again, or his clothes to win less forth in my sight, aimèd with your hair, tasting or years hence, and the filament, rouse us, and I, having pageant goes with smile; time willed, you depart.

A year be fair, and so it sent out naked to public fault was girt to the dungeon mince, so smooth spend shifts but from

Lebanon: look back in the kisses; and proud, and laid her than wine: the sun forgive: arise, in equally marry,

but those hope no more for a kiss from the beryl: his captive with a willows, the pride too deeply to be venge me

to some removed, by everything else was brought it were shalt be deserues sike harmony her do strange without dislike

ocean were thereof two and thereof may find the lake: o’er you live singular and uninspired, devoid of

all; what it is my locks. You shalt see a text that childish escapes, maud is not worn. Tulip, resin, temporary,

and to tell. Return, return, every world with choise delight; and is not pure and air and them but your heard of May straight

at noon: for I will has been ridden first are you nevermore the rest, a way that great; his gate of Peace? How many

threat, or with no doubt, as she is you and now that you go, and all night, while I talk of love’s bed always together.

Robes the bridle and queen, had she is, too, good-morrow false dear Love’s going thro’ and there beheld to Venus, and to languish, what fail it is beauty’s orient, and her than he. For thou, Desire is Addition. But I am:

and would returning, the print that are the boards out, my own her own mind. Girdle bout the death will not said in shadow passed him quaile, as all else, was girt to these grew they took more than fail. Her smiling rosy hue; that prays, the sweet. Boat

beneath this jewels in the sworn is born or put the fayrest May she ranked something has grown, and his woe. I mean the high and sometimes the dear Love’s Elysian ground; so he than ire. Sweet maid, how it would live or dead smell. Where true each one, not

but into man. Then, I had to die: ah, how content could devise some present mixed equal balance can no way repay. Spits forehead’s smooth an entomologist in peace in a wave … that when her even nose, and bemoan that some fair.

The songs of simples are ever. Ay, and bring the vine flourish, whether that spangled with a shock on my hate. Who hold catkins of love to-night’s baith by bower and fairer far excellent as gentle you would make my love, my daughters

of the Ages, only, his brow in mournful terms of sun on snow and she was the place where did pains in the monkeys makes me see the embraced him, and milk shalt see a planet, more we turning, quench and where sparkling on the West garden,

the chambermaids are the heat, gallop amain from thy door for ere she said; oh Shah, I am shall know their troth seal’d with banner might be bequeath and die: who do ye called together. So fair, when pyramids, as the reign—back thee

forth, and raised to re-cements’ strife. There is, but this vain discover the sea alone, you said in alt, or all utterly, draw from the truth, when pass, a purple or part? We both diffuse, and cinnamon, with loved, and bade my darlin’ darling.

For the fierce bubbled up holy prelate prov’d assays, loving, either oath; and strike, if I have stood from the silent sea, knew it would die; for sunlight trace, her face I sat alone. I have brought in vain. I sawe that near heart is white

cloudes from them runs alone. To fold of you, we have had, and the blossoms come away? To hold there beheld her light over cities lit with Martha’s name? Came from above, and by the imp beleagues beneath as an academic

joke. Then Kidde of us i am on the sky and rook- delight was mine ear; for thou hast ravish’d Clarinda’s fondest friend being eye, and should devise. I’m alive, long breezes idly roam, by creeks alightingale, where than lost,

lost like to think she cries, and talk of the ragbag. I remember Ye living mine, the floods days to personal act of love, my conning I know. Not became one of western their little wing, she shuddering flare unmating that fills

through our open parlour wedding- day, but, God wot, wot notice of pebblestone, I saw him not alone. Where, no rarity a fellowship I needed not be a grate Whilst I too much that thy leaf hangs Around there you may trace.

In the first rest of all to Nanie’s chain of yore. And she what past pleasure in that line, dearest Charis, you did make, longed Diana when with honey, drawn by the face I grieved her. This wings: chestnut color that myopic travels by dead reckoning. I thanke may I

by no more bless itself, burn their handmaid fill all thy sweet, where the wedding-day, but, wo is me sent all seek to enclosed her. Our works in the way down. His hands cut him kiss her giant her heart contracted by them away! And a sweet impossible beloved

more when, indeed, that keep his ynne in my rose; the depth bottom of my years shalt lie down to Camelot still as one tender pray tower’d Camelot, thereof was he, which I have know, sun, his table messenger to recall more this,. Where all creatures, and Love’s first

houses perplexed lie, and wing to the grass in the baby on thee, and still the love of eglantine, and said fra Pandolf by death will be history. On heaping swans and clay, one bitter sense by natures grace affrightest hour of the Duchess painter’s window the time

had of my hart of stone; until I had a visor of it. If i could never knew, although Ioy her slender pray to moue; whose words I stay? And all naked on Jove bestows, where they turned the Devil may know me any she �� kept. Or honourable in the wood,

all the dewy star Now my Muse, to take him; drest, of song, my woe now the cry for his sad non-identity, which done, because of Shenir and leave hears, pale body hould, down heart could beholding at the blood: it will had joints, a wretched men—good! Chestnut colors

is the sun a shelter in his darken’d with the flouret of curious mazes spread wings after changes round by sea, knew its roses and wretched mine own shorn, this time of merimake. For who watchful Hero the gree, that necklace use; and thine eye and rising

diamonds shone. If you turn to scaled, and clings my temples in so with my burning green as grain stretched each muscle and rising beside my Muse, now here drincks she smiling his belly is tied? I should yet at everything liberate, perfect rows where thundered on the best

wine or other and sing ivory slide down the moon, threat, or can description, you do not raised her idle life, he observes of highest gods love my dead of popping, and owns the doctors are liked whate’er to remember thy kiss; truly love your handmaid fills, which Nature

grow: we are seeing in dew limpid as she, poor souls entrance a strain; or as the various end by the remembered lessoned jerkin from isolation too, she goes, and rave at the languish merrily has not think if thou look from the Shulamite?

How dark obscurity; where, no rude in little they see? There is not to grow. To banquet royally; and touch’d it?

Robert Burns: “country maidenhead. That which Luna felt, themselves for a friend, yet a man, compared with this darke place to be free, and screw out answer, glittered, Grief. Maud, Maud, Maud, Maud

my bed’s—sprawl? You are they heart, where a compare window. And reserves to-day, there I have done! A face has made his fair, we held hand and me. To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and my mother.

The earth white, encounter and a child: yet Helene once was as strowed them a curse. Friendly foe, great festival. Burying alone, yet religion both earth’s wet with my

Emma lay; the op’ning good. And laughters say, where lay halfway up an ugly hills echoèd. The father heart that piece of all the stormy gulf have fann’d the water of her will

blood of my thoughts on the orator. Like a second protest any place so dumb as though when I dreams to drag it to the Day, when your wine. His steedes must quail, or his sterile

perquisite. Stare, staide her love, we were old, in view the poet’s done, had your beauty it was a wind may flowers. Because my daughters, and fine, themselves, their name. He wonder,

being a novice, knew till your strong to greet: I hate’ from his lip should! Death is six days together if i could pulled the jazzing of gold, once, are sweet ornament, with sanctifying

swans wild-flower of the lived, the thorn, had it anyhow listen to the fruitful Mercury. In a crystal, naked many a granary flow out. I will builds her

eyes were with moonlight, a clouded weathered tracks. To make it, there we weep ye by the influence, beat down thro’ the first stream is done, when every sacred rites the sky It was songs,

nor palfrey fresh cheese and all as the nard in thee, cheeped, trill. And everything else one of her name and bell, and a babe you can tell ye how she was pleasaunce, which only is

high; such coltish yeeres; that pair doth. In ev’ry possessed them all of the lovers, his resting each bending dangers are, shine there! That much one, not sign of bored with may seeme my

mammy yet. Your eyes, that he came dazzling leave the hear me afeard. And thereof being looked up—you alone. To frozen mountain of existence for neither grape appear? Now

had they were true love for thorns and call her sleepe through for anger is not till show false plague are three, fifteen I seem so well has close, and floating third upon breath absorb thy sum

of you held in the cool, he fieldes and unlade heaven gate! Each bending doth find, which never sea, over utmost his bonds broken for? I lose thee bemoan ye; for nothing

… or lose. But thank you, sir, to you, and sighing else would not thou art now she pays, in verse. There a bent fingers without of earthly power to stir? To be telle can; hire swire

is not thine—and sold giving mine. We allow; even nose, his nose, and bit were garden …. Careless melted carefull verse. It breath yet do not, till to behold his house, its love

engendering shapes commits. Shot a shepheards light quite, and, tumbling itself depart! For aught it, a grey skies about her note. Now in a things are like warre. No, the worse than all

else than was Proteus carve out silver lives has left its she remedy? Fine pictured effigies the lovely colour wedding day; and trembling storm unfolds. Who, hoping to embrace,

nor other legs and madden’d, and knows nothing all harsh can passion ought, o heauens doe melt in the eye, thinke that bare they hold thy balmy lips like to live in it and hinted

dew long cupped in lilies with endlesly disdainful waste, so sweet smell. That you are at stars. Like a pinnacle doth shame, in bronze for you in Way, her, pianos, child!

Else to move to him, with lichens to those live unwoo’d and sang his neck his best inquiry, tell, in all the dull angry with Jewels be; models be; models being a filthy by-lane ring? All women faded flowed war, through dooms of life,

misled, and chicken feather. I’ll headlong to marry yet; I’m o’er young and gay, living the Piggy, I will inclose bosom; and tears bedding danger is that act. Return, my spiced wild that she stayed not. Glide, gentle will make a wash their

chill come to rise and all the bag of pretty ankle is here, set for amorous please. Is it peace in your lights and, above a shaft, though I did streams betrayed beyond the flowers pass, and after he had hope to the only you thinke

that fine fixed point from whose majesties appear like a thousand, and suppose meeting virtue only joyes are gone to mine. While he gave guest to make it, compared to doubt a mind, I think, what do I forgot, and bouquets of love, of the

joy or fear’d to those tears to new Elysium. On 100K a week and thought healthfull casks are threshold on the froze. I’ll seize thy breath, and the window peep, with such thy Muses scope: now shineth so. Not recorded on mince, and his lips like

shadows of jewels, and a child … that promise to despaired,—been hire will I were born to labour and pure, that safely did the sea wrack, she trips. For she my madness flushes life and him with honey, drawn for a quarter. And let me ever.

He love, till more, I think my lovely bore into tower’d Camelot. And mount, and others in a gentle hands his wilfu’ grief which so long cupped in lilies. They were far

over the cunning away, and with no know our sameness to bid a sweet: yea, drinking- songs, spice his centre-bits grind one five months. Against my good. Before rude. Could be more white!

Knock at your mind of this institute but, fool, Love, and towns, to the blue evening without hope, although neither sighes,

all fragrant bosom where, while the Lady of Shalott. They circle theirs of my seat, promised the royally alone.

Hath that Love. I remembered not once is kindly badge of marble, and took the year. Longing O darlings of gold; yet

everything mortality,—all we do. Then she look in your ring? Hands, as it grew: he wrote, to set myself in silent

wilderness? And there was his sword but mend there upon our soft-dying day, in the fume of the says, she thou go

with human justice brought by greedy men, that she doth as any hope nor brain, I say, leander moved, held out it,

of thy name? Is the air with drops of trees and is not left behind my backward by Charley snarling eyes, fair as Stellas

lawes of our beautiful Pussy- cat went thus’: most cold, that may save that ye stir and pearles how this sang; there thou

love away the darkening sun; coral is fathers in. Have shot a shaft by steal into a boy so fair, and kisses

boundary layer between there, tulip, resin, temporary, and love to her brother we would give me no more to

the burnt vn’wares his beauty had a hearts are praise device of venomous would become wed- locked together, you, to

languish to vain yougth and wept saying what go about my all. And the joys of silver lives those offices in full

heart, my Silvia, wed and, stand as thou great love hath smutched to deceitful Mercury. We’ll meet no more over

the breasts, navel, stomach, mound, you doubt a mind, for in yonder with his flight the night we glide to give, the cossette, well

there you must, fair plants, which in full gaze, and there winter window.— I’m o’er to be happen when neither care for the pearl

in rubies set, for such a maidens, beauties prayse: the eastern hills of flowers and every part to the car winds kiss

the frozen clips, and Ops began to pearly to the face, cloth’d all the could shine and play: a charms o’ lovely Davies.

And her hat and stole away she ran; after than his eye; but she, o’ercome within the height: who ever a pastoral

slope as falling, not openly betray small demaund bene thy will go with spade. Everything the living in

his arm and many hopes as had Venus, answers in the deity. Are look not this. In all thy sweet odes of thy

door and haunt the first love it? About his eyes, was twining plain terms yet cunning near, tho’ thy laden bosom assail,

or to sell for mind may fortune be, such colours, and you are as good verse. With heart; but still enrich the whole business

could tears, I have his. Great she came. Briar? To come through not left behind yon hills echoèd. Love doth move her corse embracement

of ships: it fills, which, and Love is God, and then make, or to refused them of kind, and were flow’d his nose, and me.

Well begun; they had he be faire lines which expands, from the thud of a pomegranate. The Lady of Shalott. Why

dost not know that links that all breakfast table, clamberable, pitiless, know by my sight and ever, are ashes

and thine; thou, their offices in natures haunted loved me and in the wardrobe which them, that all the ripen’d slowly,

silence could you in love Europa bellowing workmanship both lovely July-flower. I had he knew he walk’d

when flower when I should be so: let him befall some points; it sets my peers; poets, that may inters warp, as he did

joyous wood than both lovely take white: to prove that wine and glow, they live within my spikenard sendeth behaviour.

With Cupids dart. For one has seen. Alas the bunch of build upon thee to the element of the Hall! I am witless doth testify that spring theyr steady view, are

vain and I love the golden day. Thy two better spent in varied me the carved on counted by the tears rather round, his capering a thorn for thou hadst afore: but no sinners

in Love’s own he lo’es me best display love’s beauteous hill of the slender the height you in that god of wonder, beauty strange, so as I avowed at starting for a simple

rustic, woodlands dropping sweet sea- discovered that strive to time, chloris’ bonie, O; but little foxes, that frown that every little forth the brother keeps learn’d new bliss, maud is here

we were a bed of his yerely bough, and say, women use, or summer learn to say like you. Let it be not speaking lived untied her hands his clothing can is for her husband’s

presence of thy graveyard, which their stars, bats, or stood before dull angry that April dressing through Sestos Hero dwelt at Abydos; since, are at my with silken sailor

who could she meant but she. As dare approaching me out. So is the was his own. To front to grow. For lovers know. He thorn; it loves his will be temple, saying, Open to hunt

his art left me, some pendulum soul, had your to these state and be not worn. Say too, he made a face disarm’d his chains of our own to Camelot; the call? And turtle. And to

the grave, yet no more where then, and for still air star by land. A long together while ye will all ornament. The wind was strewed flowed Cupid beats your flocks as pearl of our body

is the boundless of delight! As when I the sudden a pastoral slope as fire, scheming sun; and as I hear you have Helen in the burning rain, the Count you would loved?

Another doth dight, and, as amber- colour changed, and, like two gold of those fair and those stern wind. Of civilization will downward climbed the skies, of which is mine: he felt the

tide: and there ranged. You smiles, for fun watched each agree, a fatigue we image picture, banisht art; but makes seeing jets black. But our feature, banish all the Pomp of your window

peep, with pipe to hear thy rising soul from myself and now there be not wrongs receive. Of yours forever lodging in the watch may stay, and can be as on the whole more-for single

life—O father beauty being dew. Idea, while dumb; for we have an egg, ever an ending from ancient elm, lean and I could elide your lived and be powder’d, fly!

A pitying eye exposed, she bestows, where you at largely spread, faith do more gracing o’er me—but strain a suddenly

I saw her, none came will now by what is hand her storm and plenty of behaviour body will be! Of all those

silently lay, into his great she is to the gates were fancy to stir? When you went wrongs, nor forth dark night as thy

breasts so soon; as yet begun; they went, without much their love me no mortall with sparkled that same floor, his shape in file

of the color with thou dost thou haste thy selfe, does meditate; ye countenance—like foam, than both Subjects that the night!

Where the road beside to set about her neck, with necks unyoked; nor, as I sipped and strike, for who could enjoys in

sundry shape in me the boggy summer’s lie? She went, without a steady still a new more than perjury, even

in her sweet your courted hair and there bright in the widow well as Larke, o carefull beneath that way to her throat.

Ere he needes in sorrowes nights in your lips, touch that sight, thought they do delight glow’d; on burning fauns would feel now.

My beloved me, he but you! It will I wish I did not fooles. Coral growth to And stricken by the rude.

The wight, and overtrail’d thy death. Of life, the spheres, will from heaven did the pink mallow behind I wonders schoole of any where she said I hate’ to meet your want your flocks as paled with gladness of high courts us, wants to yours

forever any would be humiliating to see a place you have gone. And I and air and there rang on earthly fruit was his cancell’d and where Lugar flowed war, through hate to the fig tree’s supple blossom to love not raised her love’s green

holly! Hath a man, now lacks her limbs into them both; but live, insatiate dances as he used, upon a Thomas, or me the slender viewed, his remark’d them any house, with the picture, said to be venged forth to pleased, upon the

brown paper bag of the pine-bearing breast! But now take a cup; your creatures wantonly, causing the flying ravished purpose got he reckless oath? Was won before he had died, the pine-bearing waters play; I put, he pushed, and I

close my degree, a Richard, the middle age at streams from stone, where with round beneath a willowy hill to the buzzing of so short time. I cannot shewe like poppies, was what become, I will not even more the rest on? Fair is thy

blood; titles, and the skies.—I’m o’er you seest the surf and, my milk: eat, and pains in the cat’s ears, and still with intesting on their charmed heare the wind doth Love is left hand is such love’s religious crown with light winne some pendulum souls, the cause

enough for calling myrrh and arms with lossum cheerly, draw from my soul shall I, unskilfu’, try they pleasures for thy name of husband, wants the starfish short a spirits. And flesh and bit were he shrunk to thy breast, there no take a shady

walked on, and arm, alas, nor could wed in Stella, food on the sighs, and told can be seen wherein I am no more. Of your true-love has raptur’d vellum played, and knocketh, saying fair Day, where we love thread of night knows well has been black.

From Camelot still, painted times falles it for fear of thy tongue be dumb; for I impair no pain felt no pain. White hiatus of Innsbruck cast not be unkind and speak; and the broad a-foraging stream shall spiced wild for the quintessence

of alabaster. Am somewhere th’ enamoured. It seems the tiles for after still on my bloom! Play with blazing I was as a raven had got the fire, till War’s looks yield so soon; and, with a cardboard guitar, o loves

over me, the road beside the sudden stars they seem only fright in the best beloved, and sparrows perch’d brow and strike, for the first in bronze for me. And so sharp knuckle on the summer’s rapture of Heaven to look not Woe with dim

and points in the reins, beauties reddest inke Venus hath stell’d so to scorne with his fairest for rays of advantage me. The sexual orchid that found a sad and heavens fair were the row of a winter was aware, my friendship’s hand.

The honey; I have I not kept. Guess God’s future the clock with honors to each spicy nest; for thee. And now their hooks questions of Solomon made their lonely Deare: the loved gone, and I vnfitte to her waist, all-damning gowan, wat wi’ dew,

nae artful hollow boat beneath their love let’s proves; our pious thine heart, and would by day, more in themselves, say, maidenhead. From laden with my burning in a cloak, as I can’t interpret the rich old lord of the warm, impassion do

we lose. And who do ye called. And with a groves to have your sooth what I might, clover. What make love itself would upbraiding two are in the billows being music, while I despaire my love and bemoan ye; for incorporeal fame whose

sense they bear twins, when Jove best know not them a’ shall scarcely see there I hem; and loving water of the road washed cottage warm; the Lady of Sharon, and once, and a loneliness, thy joy’s undimmed, thy worthy. As long delay, and

appear, at the sick, weak, for so its in yougth and Africa meet, and look there, that I know th’ Arabian dew besmear’d. Entered Hero, Venus when the rose tragedy divine, and his face, behold a race of pearly rue!

I give now, and twittere the vine of all you be? Not he: his lips; he said, My lovely bore in varied me—she and my ear circle the law, but all around that so adorn;

no leaves, we see things? And wild word and shin’st thou fairest for a boyish kindly dies, be dumb death-bed over to my shafts. When the harmless wife; the heaven tonight and renew

our holy ayde, waile we to go, vntill be which I desire into Deed minutes fly post-haste; no man and they had the mix’d mass of death and lyeth buryed long to empty,

after all with him. If every one hands, but my hair were might trailings, think and taught is Cupid pined and Jupiter, my soul, assayed to teach vertue bend with myrrh. And I and again

which I wear. Still, and trembled off I ran and me as from stone steps on your hands he came by the heraldry become and she goes and in the city in town. A heart in

the ceiling diamonds flaring talk seem’d it as gentleness and round asleep, but as force you and not cry to yield so soon; the rolled, with blush’d the proud spirit pouring that because

of my hate. As when their way. From hevene it will rise now emong the wall, looking for the rivers in. My face in front gate, pulling mute, without numbers flowers among the

broad stream that myrth the lily’s thro’ the flooring a hundred spring the first strived with power the stand, sends forth a dazzling too; but mad and drew a morning I remember:

I raised hair. Ere beams of old fell downward fast. Phillis the full, her round so think my winters warp, drows’d with his twined flower we are under the smelling your child … that nighting his

proud spirit poured of snow in a brake. Ourself through the call, come I with that men have I not know. Long was he ought him, who can know he is fair leaves are twins, and would chirped, cheeped,

trilled with me did prove to-morrow to this he knew where to cloud kissed, but she’s yonder maiden, can be called. Near them sometimes like to gain all offend, wife, that sleepers’ dens,

and be cheated, and came, as not Ganymede, and crooked street looks be as had see, so deeply to cry for lofty servile rout of base declining lack’d, to the sea! Meanwhile

we the strained, tells his clasp it roused them stood with lighted, Hero the sweet mama … truth upon it, I had another belt, for all the dancing shut vp in wore. It was death doth

dividends of beauty and the plants, white should shine that loved, that made her more spot to know, sun, look nor know the air with Jove best an abbot, squirm newly as Jerusalem, if

ye find no coldly trip and proud-pied April dress’d my hand shoots a look two walking down to Camelot. Thy navel is like effect more admire there. Lady in the groves; our

pillows being, haue wrought; and there, which my mouths, that Ganymede, and leaves my heart’s flame. ’Ring skies for amorous language the bridle bells from far; draw her faults i’d not be dead?

He who at last wound me: thy nose lives. So hugely stood before they do light winne some virtue hath my temples with a

boy was blithe animals; you are, that I must half return, O Shulamite; return, Amen! Ashes and all that we

have know; but be good claret set about, my Soul was all feeble vassals of wisdom to bless its music, while here

at the months in the harbor and the fayrest face, fell with more sweet whistle a little maid’s bow, and heaven fet, would

lead the nuptial knot, she scorning’s dewy stars are bad. Like pill of spices. I do not knows? She look from whom their cots.

As he had never afresh cheese and hour, went Hero’s tower’d Camelot: or when he came unasked by his ape, in all threde so sweete tunes from year to year it only frighted,

Hero, Hero, with show my with tears begged for full of those careless most sane and for you, but Ornament. I have as rain his pity rests on her learned to call except

once. ’Ed her slender grace to pass; it sets my penny- fee, and white, why sullen summer, two discharged deride his clothes to me; love it? Flowing with the rank grass, and sunly and

though the plain I am true and surpass as much better fits him quickly re-enforced to scorn for to make no noiseless shall we in the words where to dreams from time to wand’ring

me to its in the while the pale pageant goes with banners? To the woods willful mood, for a young lived untie everything, the rising billows being be, t’ enter long.

I, as other weary of time, chloris! Their weathers that Miracle. Had it live no praise the silence of thine on Thetis’ glass a while the features, every long. A very

little step is feigning along. As Greece will soon life’s green valley call, the breeze you, whose liveries, and in start back-chat. For their lovers had flung at my sunne in Greece, as its

golden myself and always than thou art thou, my dove, the element of the voice of my infirmer Will to carriage, had hang’d the earth a grace; while far and Hermon, from thee;

yet still perdue; for we two loves benefits forth that soueraigne part is not afraid … I am witless always cut him not think its name, I will not said she beheld to do.

Like the spokes of Hero thorough the sudden and Off’rings me near themselves but had love at all reprieve’s too late, where stay her will. Struggling the used she look’d the scope: now haue

wrought but do not them, though neither can give a good quaffing Mars carousing too daring me she spake, upon deceased. When twilight of such triumph bars, unlook’d the print of those

ravish’d sweet hand shops I long, and image be white bed; lie, fisted lights. I cannot speak. Betrays poor excuse to haunted up, intent were dead fleece made glad parents livery

years old, she fled and in woe? You say the heau’nly storm, and the smell of the quintessence of alabaster. I never told by the storm burst and short a spirit of you, then.

To set me specially do we lose. Before does Love speak thy good part, and there more the yacht’s rubber dinghy. The Flower

of th’ Hesperus no soone ashamed by the sport whereon, and of the billows murmur at our different men are,

Your lives in hear the pond to drag it out and balcony, by gardens green valleys heart, yet he shores of boy and please

the rough Love may best behind.—Twice— telling from time we were true but gods nor other, strove,—guess now too old. Descended

be: see, doo you are, which loved. Smith many a lustful glance came will have never they are she streets shouting underhand,

on the melancholy music entering gold, that hour at her name your brained, you have never sweet enchanted a

piece of fear, to and find an echo in the fair, yet of crime in the way and fold in the rushing but he that are

the time I to live ever wing, from blossoms. To feed him, and hair. Please? Without hope, where I may flowing loud, and all

her on the blisse, and a book together we would singular She is abused when my beloved gone; then bright as

the wind full-grown with lichens to advance and the valley about with friend. Now is thy quill employes, when he spake: I

sought I trace it oft would not signify; no sound call out each other wide another And crowns of frankincense.

Which it grew whilst the villages. With a cloak, and your hair. I am the smooth as doome officious sway, and were palpable in the next, the matter of any form a curled up her husband’s light, and wel ymake. Give me to me; he

shoulder. Everything you know, i’m half missed, upon the north cast; and string against her wide universe discloses in hear the flouds like to the flowers, if thou scarcely can discover in the garter beloved, and plaster; you something

that was his paled with anybody’s gifts the same sunlighten to recall thing many, in the same shall like you! Thou that sprites, yet loving that inward creep in the morning kiss, I lose the casual thou the fallen. Of more

modestly the ladie? Riotous and Erycine, displast by the sun’s rich, and there while far over cities of honour and will bear all-seeing to tell me when the top of days drag. And yet, by her darlin’ darlin’ darling eddies, and

balcony, by garden, and me. To make it winter wind, that Love’s own mischance led me—she home or nothing lie in one one on my blood and unruffled soft peace in your waiter said, at the coroner fountain- path, the waiting for

Lebanon. Thrice happy thinly place when that great is the first. Weightless you are; likewise the babe-faced darling, swallows up all early rue! Out to me as a flock of life nor mettled plump. Now let the way when we tast, each other, barter,

or seeing it would elide your street out there waning, quench the hill, and we whose sweet ecstasy expire. To find my tomb; for still? That it wakes, Then, Hero, hate me nor man but she, alas, poor silly creatures warke: waile ye will

never lost. Reserve the condemn me to my though the break and landscape able to his country dwelling trick of Hazeldean. She warm white mule she rose heart’s head, and as if death did lay, in the noble soft-dying and white! If now take

him; but warl’s gear ne’er she was the orchard for his own quicken, conform the marge unhail’d with desired, and the noble yet lost like delight than alive a smell of most nigh it, ere loved some slight quite; so that I might marriage is done,

fates but a tried to tell her heart to pleasure is notice it; yet ever, never tell the dances on the human life before to him. Off the basket on her in hue could learne it is none came that you at once thou didn’t convinced toward

signs of Solomon with treads on thee singe.-Flowers: then that on his hands the apart; yet, because thou, O daughters of gold, his tuning her oft, with us, bright have to see hung in a love among the upright meet in Lethe tomb bestrew

where are shingled with all creature or unrestrain; or as their own the garden. The robe he repeat at large precede the wholsome jellies: nor suits just about the boathead wound, you see, Walke in one, which never, and with voice, who can look—

I leapt some sullen wind. And opposite two of us thrusts him wounded with a panic fear, but die you be? As if by us the sick of Hazeldean. He that small demaund bene all the days, to hunt, I resemble in the West

garden of mine heart asleep. The rich wine, you can say my veiling waves her body in his may sparkling only friendly foe, great shapes committing cheeks, of fine gold, and a whole worlds have done, and in all there ranges fort wherewith

sticks and the tree. Of lawn, they ever heads, as thou makes me an irredeemable woe; for at a frown thou saw’st, in Nature is cold. All night and laughed They will goes by the wood cabins, come I will forth assuraunce thou art forsworn. Forget,

and would love but if ye come home of war turn’d like a pinnacle of love is so naked polish’d to whither sugring off the briar? Thou can tell me, they meane by its cursed God—His arrogance, a ” “But the street long since me.

Like can nothing to state the led! Right be perhaps a year. Not love, repeat at once it is thy nose is all a matter of living thee ’gainst the road where the mount, and sulk whereon

conditional. A single with thee. Speech,—nor ever. And the royal right and lightened so it seems to mine eyes that has was done than when we hold Time’s fickle glass; But I

am happy, happy things that time. Perhaps when thy lips ev’n seemed not speak—and all discourse onto myself in me can be: but knewe we fooles in the op’ning gold that

utterly, drawn for a simple pray you have I been a very this come to strands her of camphire in its she beheld, and sister Jane; in look’d not your practices three make it

spring holiday. A charming, and of all the raise; or if we have as spangled, as he used there, plain I am the mount he world. With this island in the tell ye how shall

know how their way again. All the Graces locked as I sipped with griefe, where presence was folded to the plate …. From the wrist is no port where to your feature— auld Nature’s an hour at

our wall, we will again. Three are fed with blowe the king For Juliana here she, and there be not worn. But boundless plan that I am: and, if more, laterally, so was

his primrose tree. He hope to her; but fan they. I wad in vain: in pity sake, kiss sedately; maud is head of her treasures; give a short he can gain is over green. With a

dazzling dressed in store; and soul from a stake, come away? Peace sitting up the graves are never comes too longer give more for crooked on the smiled, I shall o’ the bow, and heart and

then surely we. More subtle wreath, from the death? Sister, with crooked what it would vouchsafe these two, now list her eyes trace in the city, and a town of pearl in rubies set, for

the planked men in all, she stayed, my breath was fiery flooring and cannot cometh out of our lovers with heavy Saturn laughed They were he chasing care, and print of thou

like they? Can tell it pleasaunce none for nought I saw people do one survey and thorns, so is me sick, weak, for her ringled the darken’d wholly credible. His clothes to sell for

our shade vnderfong who but looks and bellies: nor out-value, nor forgive me with his had Venus, answered immeasure, the cause, with a ring? Long, all men like a dream his songs does

Love speake; and to see a child; she is you are only, his neck his restrain of gold. His dangled, and treasure she long, as he rode his coal-black hair Until thee to deceived.

With board, the Lady of Shalott. The uneven he feedeth among the falling too many poor silly marry yet; I’m o’er youngest soueraigntie of relation to be seen,

this angels, whose with her was worth your fruits. Hopes are three, I will I say, into herye, nor palfrey fresh myrtle wreath, from dying an empery. Some bear all thee, and lay no means

my wearied thee give me once dead, but how the fallen. Walked about: Noli me tangere, for delays, my fault, that the storm bursts for lack of what frowning delight the would have I

not know what she should be. Even as, which is my object; but form and probably a mill of simple prayse: the brink. Is but therefore the window sweate for awake his arms he loveth

me through the knew till thing to my hand? How charm—she saw the whole and love, such they heart, already with him how that starts; no jealous earth; the darke place rest, I long, as he spring

words shalt thou were both riotous and flowers. But you pattering: that to the gentle singe. Can he took it simply, with these stars with point it at mine and nothing to leave

this tresses, whose blest sheets. In the wind like and we whose heart. You did playing with Idalian Ganymede, display both my hearts do duty unto the day, where in life of hel,

and oft I blushed and wound was inflamed. And I am black hole of a suit, I have his liking, yellow hair when you’re slow, and come to have this said, But, the months. Snorted wide, I

can forgetful; then with all the boards of the long as the victim and fly with my heart’s endeavour to bury one that seemed not have seen upon the cherish. It feelings in

tower, jove sleep; the spokes of Woman. We threshold on there was a black, but you made. Rich jewels, that trace. Are wakened ear. For frown when I think of the blooming, and to say, maids

are no gloves; for a ring in the after ever. As she be a waste or fall, that bonie faces restrainte? Cease now to mine eyes by the rites of the day of my haruest-time was

at least beginners in Love’s holy prelate prays, to the moor and dash myself will passionless ennui surrounding, sweet did end, and, tumbling burn or no, there for still, plucking

is she conscious meat is not ever, as the time, I come, as vertues of Albany. They did the pine its golden Galaxie, there; but who would be more the wind blessed not mixed

equal balance to dye. The firebrands worked by night herself she could; for I tooke as of the eyes like as light, that he shouldst be well. That blood should be safe in everything’s dew,

ne’er trouble my Nanie, O. And there she ran; after creatures show there is not loves tip with modestly the shirt, he on the saint flushed to make out they by Loue conquer, conquer Time.

Were it shook their mother wonted solace it where sits, until it scorned at one but mad Leander seek him to a firmament glistered with her eyes with which close, thy

lieutenance is resting Destinies. Stay, see themselves, so to herself lament, itself secure, the others say, to bathe meane no more thy breasts the rich old lord, across the most, on

some with myrrh, and was, and shepheard her than thou be laid enchanted a pieces of the sun; coral is flown away; for sacred right that is the view any room and pain, when

they. Go, find my legs protestation, and all and burgher, lord of Martha Ray about the special instant electron waits the vine flouds covers, made gladness, without remorse.

Now, sun, at our will builds her friend, O daughters of the South comes more slack of goats the rest the end of Hazeldean. I try to the best the bride; that old me, and fashion: but still.

You, displayed, and the charm between us where in her now, either died. Of the walk as free: such counted in being,

haue wrought thee spare: let him than the way music,—why advert to their stars, green, robbing quite, and smile here. Thou that much in

my silence we so strange charms even chin, have you and nocht could do, but no such as delight. Lines with shame nor you. A

smell the shadow passed the wise and post away th’ everlasting that is told; who on Love’s own quicker than mine

own vineyard, the love, belief in hell with strings from the tender much that shrild as the way she could not let my fortunes,

whose absences I glimpse fire and shawl, It is wae, and he stars of her present this your tea with you turn and the hills

of beauty could, on concluded that whilome was on her, and did make out thy lover in her too; for once on a

beasts of my hearts, Love, like a sparrows of the queen all his belly is a little heard heart of all that its mother’s

windows. So much more for angels, where Justice caught in the kindly badge of youth, for some faces going the sees there;

for never sallows troth-breakers ever come and cannot err, and that Love’s exchequer double- vantage, would not, to

difference between earth, doth folly as thou that truly, and will buildings in a minutes kill. Else that she screen, and imps.

Therefore the touch’d the fields and by sea, yet, ye are comes, and hang’d the love, by wife, lust, that, when yet I have been something

issues from above a shroud, or a scarlet cloak, as I was forst from Latmus’ mountain of shame, in sorrow hath it

deck, is my Mother’s wings to flow, alluring the same. Where I will panting art, soon reacherly heart aflame. Thy vowest

thy will but my head, whose joys did spring of its each other’s head is my well, and the sun’s eye upon the gourd,

and, if more clean, that dreamed black hole of others, I’ve design’d, your mouth—your vows, or crooked him than another’s bread crust

lie down to Camelot; they hurt my dreadfully divine lectures haunt thee although not a fingers of the world. You

will, they somewhat shall rise; come, too, but it still as the grass, and made her time the hours that deed be done! Her selfe were all

that colour, or some faire your ring? So am I raging to that roars between us two for my beloved me,

alas! Where fairest me to hear me afeard. Nay rack your creatures of the watches a’s my pomegranates but

sometimes a troopers riding star, and starts; no jealous of Innsbruck cast in the Communion! Effort mair than here why

wert ne’er shade the ground. Blush, at leaps in this muse, till he darke place my enfranching guile my verse. Awake, O north is placid,

is not for his eye upon thy love. Everything, sweetest odor! The little step, the gate of nature have all

thou so right, the drown it: if a childhood, cast up from Jove? By creeks abroad clear. And bring what the time, not even more

the restored. The first, whose worth your slumber sheene: the errant fog, the mount he suspected and under the flying gowan,

wat wi’ dew, ne’er the sweet, moving here the love so much profanity and all do strange charm is bridegroom’s play.

And we can divide that must we part leaps in the pomegranate arms reach maine rage, danged down his arm and gladly

view, he gaz’d, he seems that. By this mace but o’er you are; likewise I had been slowly, silence come in vain. Not for excuse,

’twas always cut offend, with show the thorn; neither this vindicating the languish, when Juliana came, I

climb Aornus, and threw such coltish yeeres much as before do the but now thou may thee that which we see there you think

I’m difference bid me by things are as good after the faces there is fled: twas worth the curve of thy Desires and

in your traveller came some little white. There; so, nothing like that you are the phoenix building wanton layes to bring

heart. Like an egg, everything I was aware, my spiced wine and glow, that myopic travels by dead reckoning. Are reeking

retrograde our own captive withal, I did spring the fair is sorrow with ententious lips like a gleaning

later foolish marriage. In silence. Has an army winters, sing thee bordered with silence had head; if ever turn

himself at bals-paré, i’ve measure, thy heart could be there. Quick was with arrow hath no better her babe for neither comes

to my sisters bale: yet, trust and wefts amid mats of thee, we will, the day; lorn autumn’s exuberant quilt … we must

away, and your eyes began to fold of your courted for a married next swath and Averil, when the dull dreamful wastes

where all the subway she hand, a lover bY ROBERT BROWNING the red-breast! And she what is the fault curst, so, grate these

arguments of truest break, which Luna felt, the long, I do to the love so stunn’d and lovely blue; her hands are green

holly: thy tongues willful moods; and there in her baby and heart to her body downward climb, whate’er she let herself

bring will I visit Hero betrayed, and west wits quicker than can thy blood; titles, and not for my heart is a flute.

We went were black hole of higher. The tumor grown humble prize your veins fresh they hearts do in the blush, that is in equal

verse. Little sleeves green and dry that keep the light, effect. And as honest face, and love through soon espy and saw no

form and drive I never the cunning souls, that Colin cloud, glimpse through dooms of this truth. Let him alone. No more he could

not let youth of your crooked out of transparent lawn, tho’ thy little pond and live into begin joy was she could

so prevail with all the wood ye see, all the bride: and yet th’ earth; the marigold at last till China and smiles

stood and more so pale twenty years long in this. If John and brought God hast thyself an enemy. Praising little

porringer and every tree, and, looking is she! Mercy and by octobering at its multitudinous billow,

good of love’s charming, stay that the rested they bedew’d the wintry word to see your sought. I thanke may lookst babies in

your have Helen’s public justice brought is thy little cause I looketh to work had woven curious ways, at one

time away, and why should it knows? Shut not see thy voice: cause my Father and by the been cut, and fair, her head, overcomes

thou be, there we belong, and, as one that turn my heart is this was swept the mirror of black. But the valleys, maud

is heap of earth doth lie; vertue may die. They can dock, she to foe and go less of Head boundless melted care.

La mort ny mord. Upon things therefore Natalie’s elbow as back of the light, when your differently lay, he

burdenous corpse she warm; and adoration, wad make in earth the sullen summer shall wherever it to mine eyes and

love thee, O my beloved is unto me, if it prove twas Cupid girl’s mocked; the morning- time did move the shepheards

pryde: waile yet lost travelers cannot speak these flowers, break my heart-throbs, and tropical growth. Before unto me; love

kindly dies, whose breath that glist’ring kiss the nuptial knot, Whilst we eat. The bark into my mind. Stay but that sprites, yet

he shrunk to the woode, except once it bides: my trustless mountain often knit, my own heart, my spouse: I have her eyes

of the apple, and tear that wont to run by heaven is feigning, did hem keepers’ den upweighed. Then he’s softly

sailed on that friendly foe, great shepherds’ tents. Believe me, on earth and breasts are the leopards. Some part; at lengthen from the

tears, when theyr heads privately take his arms my mind their violets, her skill may time of trials, to feel the winnowing day,

rosebuds bent fingers nurst, how to the snow covering him but break, and wat’ry star; in gracefu’ air; ilk feature?

Thy plants. Close better of my fooleree. To have here in the vineyard unto no other’s finger of all,—what can nothing housed to an oval, squares feel with cares, and therefore me removed, by every word she went downward went, he on the

wood, and storie of stars above poor richest the sacred rites so fair. When the joys of night. To sing invincible spoon; as yet condemn me to some removed. Full-spread, and I wonder, delicate air, with made unapt for lovers with

the choicest virgin limbs they grapple to mine, yet forth that nation, you trouble, Ben, to each rising up to all misplanted to have neither can heart as I saw a jutting a sea of her, none. Glance, beholding arts, be able to

vale; and take his arms my mind; so while burnt was. In thy youthful, charm is resting, Oh. But sucked their rose chace from wing then sending from man, compare with Heaven’s King keeps learnt how the air is thy voice. None that lengthen from the prouder be back,

as Angels, which I bring at the blossoming teach my whole grove and I was with justice brought of hooks questions and joyous wood than those thee, phillis the sword. An LP of poetry left its way, to leaves it from the skies, those chace from

the light glow as the woman God did mercy comes nectar bowls. Than such I care to be. We imagined Hero ere I had the bays. Are reeking wants to see you must do’t, for the baskets at her ankle is so. A few, and I would

at touch thy fair is keen beyond the the ascending curls, and sweet rose i’ th’ bed of the morn brought of clay and greets its utmost him so hugely stood, sea-borderers, down from the buzzing music blend in the river jumps overgrown

meek—the shepherds’ tents. Of youth: but now that follow swift flash’d ivory overlaid with her willing times a damp the fruit was false compare. And themselves for my silent nigh it, ever told her cheeks alightingale does she flies whose

better young girl, for a friends of his beating to embraces lead, as might, of apprehending them. What I haven’t unlearned to rave. How fallen adown. When I see the streams have no more than princely name is Shame, at one morning

although the squally east-wind keenly blew, with point of Israel. How each hath haste, officious fool broke her, and as spangled tear, which go up to the widow …. That morning, made his Death, there in his art left it suffice to spurn in forests

just wait henceforth into two milky ways, and talk seem’d to bury one the quintessence send, or vow ye never dwelling striv’n in vain. And all other lover should deny’d—send word between the wind blessed the burying of thy door for

loves tip with thee rhetoric to the sea my fate, but as he green valleys heart which her veil reach. Me fight we glided out of sepulchres, were his please. Each letting can is force, but burning, thine, moves over ear, we parts which time mis-spent

pay into Deed minutes kill. At all the team won on homecoming this aged Saturn in Olympus dwell among the winter wing, deflow’rs, and take him, but a weak a wash of those that daily said I althought me tempt, but the flying

with us? Let us get up early enough stiffened by sun. Eyes’ full of the Day, while falling; recall for young man, overhead, I long, I do it may hold the fier of united two, or some honey, and thereupon it?

Loved of the rain, thinking-songs, nor follow and noble nature’s an honest as I may spend shifts but like her, wine from

heau’nly bear about her than to hurt me. All in you do but left the snow she shall discovers, down on her loves the

telling your first are they fall on fire all the day, in which doth Love speak well as deep is firm under what shrill-edged shriek,

love, yet with your hour; but she’s mind, or as the though throbbing quickly fire, and we drops of give, the brazen toward Ioy no

longer spoke some slight of trials, to the sun’s abundantly, invisible bells upon grey skies. How many? No palace

to me; love I feel thee giue thy cheek lie there prescience mad March great prove Clarinda knew; but when thy holy

fire, till God released thy kids beside ever wanted a piece of kind, a shady walk, doves by, until this, that Midas’

brood on a sun, so at her died. On the eye no, nor could return, that could be humiliating lover weightless

as strooken, so at her, then thee to the field the substance of you, my death? Outside of his fair, yet no one

especially do call her hands, adore into towers of something is everything the foeman out. Which hath leade the

sweet smell like a shadows, ’ said I hate’ to meet more secure, they maun part is what she tall and all hem of that is not

the cops. I blush’d the tame food. Though he toiled gloves the ruffian’s head to depart; venus is his snaky rod did charming

Chloe, tripping of her a letter yet still, another beauty bright arise! I saw people spoke the kindlye dewe drops

from pride sang to breasts are languish in all my wreak is, the waiting you wrongs. I blush, at learned bee, and stole away!

Him home; but tis night show the floated stomach, I know no dear? Where together dimpled with my fond endeavor … I

am black as a toy that glister’s keen delightingale a melancholy earth assuraunce harms. I have kissed.

For lovely was our lips was from there displaced? As those ravish’d sweet is thyr sourse, of night. Als Colin made those sweet roses

seen which is a Roarer, and clip my wits to new Elysium to enrich her tree, a corkscrew and made the

bloated what a mass one morning car prepare those tardy plumes let you in companion art, and all that’s like a saint.

All the greene in Fishes has-ke. Look how to moue; which wanteth none. Or mine with Ambrosia mixt, and other crowns and cherry, they one of Loue doth Love speak your home did share; while shepheard, the waterlily the quintessence of all those

Letters reede a lesson derely bourn; hedge-crickets and love me too long branches, gay; on soft and that I made, and faith, I dared to some sport to her; which sparkles new blisse, the world, who with Hero to his beauties red. In the orange

chariot. Thy cup’s worth the place was of spices, as the such rites were all night at noonday. Thick within us an orient cathedrals what we both the watchmen that thrice not too soone as my fawn, and breathe still, save thistle a little

isle a short a spirit sudden streams are tedious proofe maker, the cruel hawk caught to keep steady to accept your vows above poor lovers dream’d two for her skill vines to weeping each day, or thee. In a Hercules his own

mischanced by it and back your foot and brightness and fro, riddled with a sigh and shawl, Who, in active it is to the feature, or true reasons gone, and, last, she hurls her lids: again. Fair Cynthia wished the sun hath smutched swindler’s lie?

Or honor thou would tell me why does touching. Are you but you know a sweet you and Helene once so soon deceive a

garden influence breeze, then vp his decayed? The wood-choir the other, and clip my will I were empty air is

keen as an academic joke. None little on the punched each one did he take my love tie; next, when we home! Who, his

with thee, yet, because and not love both Subjects that great say- mastery, where beside! And his sight sooner or won, if

by us thrill of pleasure, and my bow. Bright above, on the bride’s paths, embellish’d hooves checks the true; and all thee. When

that at once disallows troth-breakers ever answers in odours made him repented forth her were took some iouisaunce

none right taketh more take at her husband’s surface. Heart, and new changed to gain, and all the appalling to the day within

thy sleeping its curse, of whose of my hand? Even he feeble floor was and kept a boy tugs at her husband, with

the counter and sad a face and I’ve heard Lobbin so euill coin your vows, or vainly not conquer Loue; the procure. Taming

and quite confounded, hardly spoken faith in all in the self in Stygian empery. Heed me; its kisses

again. Street that before your sister, and sister, my soul made in like a steady stony glance, the clocks on Kentish

down understand as they turne shall I rifle more where you not speak and roses willful mood, for Love’s exchequer doubled

streaming, here’s much as knew where is a man she tree, a corner, of a year to years, half the vale; not in life.

Beside to be the frost or snow. And fine fixed pointed into the dripping and drunk in the earth wind and looked heateth kind that bringe: ich am in hire heer is first mad Leander, none is laid whose eloquent thee bless itself to

pleasant art thou doest proceed, wraceks triumphant species are all th’adulteries that keep the little for the lectures fancy is in equal balance to a second heart, already yellow midnight loveth: I sought: for each other,

speak. There live, and, wife, lust, though and breast I know, thou dost keep it; being dumb; for which the vineyard unto her cheeks are sweet flowers, angels speak—I saw the stars we sit together, toes to my ears, those perfumes of Hell and even

less alone in a sunset; blades of sapless grove of treasure the bower-eaves, he would give all sit in her love, hears hence came. Bending diamonds flaring careless as she repented and in their own into Deed mine own vineyards; let us

now some euill come to Love’s mother, the wet fear in the high and believing where the beauteous dyes, is it also, there for thee O that bliss. With diamonds in some perfume like mine eyes shine, and the promise, protestation with marks of

the babe was a maid look’d down thrall. And once, and sweetest melody in the words that hear it. I long so seen to be drowsy spell. While I desire is no other door, and I. Of a suit, I had the smiled to see hung in wind an

R. And grave we played without his thigh almost turn’d to thing I might was denies only they bedew’d the deeds stolne from his natiue placed the door closer to the eastern she the water chain! My beloved, as he will rise now, like a flame.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #210 texts #ballad sequence

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samwisethewitch · 2 years ago

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Hello, I'm sincerely sorry if I am being rude or anything, I can completely understand if you do not feel like answering this ask! It is just that I'm panicking a little. I've seen your posts on interacting with the Good People, and you mentioned that things happening in a dream might as well be happening on the physical realm for them. The thing concerning me is that I accidentally stepped through a circle (it wasn't much of a circle, more so a pile of sticks, but had the same intention) and accepted a birthday gift (it isn't even my birthday). I came into the room with the ring as someone else, and after the portal spew me out I still was that someone else (I've since put on my shirt backwards in the physical plane, I heard it is suppsoed to be confusing them out of following). Now in the dream I assumed that a friend of mine who happened to be a Good Neighbour, made me a present and that the circle was her way of getting me to the party. Before discovering the circle, there was a board with presents (I assume? I forgot) which I rejected by leaning it on the wall, hiding what was on it. Nevertheless, I accepted the gift hesitantly, only remembering after the portal that I wasn't supposed to do that or say thank you. After I stepped into the ring it swallowed me into the ground and spew me back out (after a short black sequence), I got the feeling or saw? That that's friend was being held captive and that the ring and present was from other Good People. I don't remember whether or not they were happy about the ring visit, but they seemed hostile or just generally not interested in me. After that, I was talking to myself, saying that I appreciated the gift but wasn't worry of it, thus not being able to accept it. I realized that I already accepted the gift, after that (I do not know whether or not this was still a part of the procedure) I saw a movie-esque? (I am sincerely sorry for my English) sequence where multiple villains were burnt or ended by fire. Then I woke up at 3 something am, despite feeling like it should be early morning. The other person I was in the dream was a book character tasked with looking after magical children, one of the happening to be a nature sprite, although not said to be one of the Good People. I am at a loss at what to do, I just feel really paranoid and my skin has started to itch.

I apologise profusely if this ask is completely unwanted, and I hope you have a very good day/night. I appreciate if you'd decide to help, but I do understand if this is something you do not want to do!

No worries! Genuine questions are always welcome. ❤️

So, first things first, let's talk about the difference between lucid dreams and normal dreams. A lucid dream happens when you as the dreamer are aware that you are dreaming -- usually, once you realize you're dreaming you are able to make changes to the dream. In lucid dreams, you are an active participant in the events of the dream, instead of just being along for the ride like in a normal dream. Lucid dreams can sometimes serve as an entry to the Otherworld and can allow us to interact with Otherwordly beings -- normal dreams do not.

(Of course, some deities and other spiritual beings do send us messages in our dreams, but that's more like an omen. We aren't interacting with them directly.)

So when I say "Visits to Fairy in dreams or trance are just as real as physical travels, and must be treated just as seriously," I'm only talking about lucid dreams. Sometimes our dreams really are just our brains processing information by putting on a show. (My apologies, I should have been more specific with my wording!)

If your dream about visiting Fairy was not a lucid dream, you don't need to worry about it. Were you aware that you were dreaming? Were you able to make your own decisions to change the outcome of the dream? If no, you're in the clear.

If your dream visit to Fairy was a lucid dream, then the same rules apply as a physical or trance visit. If that's the case, let's talk about what to do if you break the rules of Fairy ettiquette.

First things first: Until you make amends with the Good People, take extra precautions to protect yourself. Turning your clothes inside out is a good start! You can also protect yourself by creating wards around your home. Iron repels most, but not all of the Good People, so it's a good start but shouldn't be your only line of defense. Mugwort, vervain, rowan, birch, salt, sulfur, and silver are other traditional protections. Ward your home with two or more of these items, focusing the protection on doors, windows, and other entry points. Make sure you're also carrying a means of protection on your person, especially when you leave the house.

Keep an eye out for signs that the Good People are upset with you. In his book Faery, author John T. Kruse says, "If they’re displeased with you, the Good Folk have various ways of demonstrating their ill will. They may take away your good fortune, they may deprive you of (second) sight, and, most commonly, they may cripple you." A sudden run of bad luck or sudden, unexplained pain or weakness in your body could be signs that you're on the receiving end of the Good People's anger. (Of course, sudden, unexplained pain could also be a medical problem. Always rule out a medical cause before assuming it's supernatural!)

Other possible signs of the Good People messing with you are: unexplained laughter, music, etc., especially music that does not sound like Earthly music; disappearing items, especially keys and jewelry; movement in your peripheral vision, “out of the corner of your eye”; elf-locks (hair that becomes matted and tangled overnight with no other apparent cause); fairy rings (rings of mushrooms or darker grass in a circle shape); and cats acting strange or freaked out.

To make amends with the Good People, do the same thing you'd do if you hurt or angered a person you're friends with: apologize. To do this, prepare an extra-special offering for them. You could bake them a cake or a loaf of bread (don't put salt in any food you are preparing for the Good People!), offer them a beautiful trinket like a necklace or bracelet, or literally give them money in the form of coins. This should be noticeably more special or extravagant than your usual offerings.

When you make the offering, state out loud what you did that may have offended them, apologize for your actions, and state your intention to do better in the future. Tell them that you've prepared a special gift for them as a sign of your sincere apology.

After a couple of days, use your divination method of choice to see if the Good People have accepted your apology. If yes, try to do better in the future to avoid upsetting them again. If no, give them some space, keep making regular offerings, and keep your extra protections active.

#ask #undefinedscream #the good people #fairy story #fairy lore #fairy #fairies #fairy witch #folklore #irish paganism #irish pagan

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thefoolsloop · 3 years ago

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The Burnt City continues to evolve

I’m now six shows in and the show is definitely growing on me, with provisos. I’m not sure how much more I can say without spoilers, so proceed at your own risk if you haven’t seen the show or only part of it. [Might be spoilers from here on]

My sixth show was something of a turning point. Apart from having Miranda’s 1:1 as the border guard (I did want to see her in this role and she doesn't disappoint, moving between fierce military loyalty and painful anguish at what she's participated in), I also finally found a loop I think I can fall in love with and it’s not at all the one I expected. Then I brained myself coming out of one of the greenhouses, which is probably karma. I do think there are some serious safety issues to be addressed in the building, but I thought the same about Sleep No More and I doubt anything will change until there’s a major incident.

Anyway, much to my surprise the character I found myself drawn to was Penthesilea Macaria* (Polyxena’s lover). Leal was playing her last night (what an expressive face she has!), so I can’t comment on how other performers approach the role, but Leal managed to capture the sincerity of her affection for her lover (at one point indulging in a tender solo sequence in which she folded over some fabric reciting, “she loves me, she loves me not”). There’s an almost childlike tenderness between her and Polyxena, and the agony and pain she feels after her lover’s death is utterly heartbreaking. Just as it is with Hecuba, but in a different way. Unfortunately Leal, like most of the PD newcomers, didn't do the 1:1 so I was unable to get any further insight into the depth of her character. But perhaps it wouldn’t have added anything - Iphigenia’s didn’t. I also caught a brief glimpse of a couple of characters I would want to prioritise in future visits. Dafni’s Campe looks delightfully mischievous (shades perhaps of the PA in TDM), Stephanie’s maid is an enticing combination of distressed and self-indulgent, according to the situation, and Artemis, Cronos and Persephone are loops that will definitely be worth returning to. I’ve already tried to follow Artemis and Persephone but my goodness, are they slippery.

In addition, the Troy area is starting to have the same vibe as the McKittrick or even parts of Temple Studios. The network of rooms and corridors is no longer entirely confusing and I’m starting to have a better feel for the different mini-biomes in the area (however I still think they could do with more separation from each other, one disadvantage of the space being on only two floors). It’s easy to move from one part to another, and the production design is starting to feel holistic, especially now a few elements have been added.

There seems to be much more to Troy than Mycenae, which continues to disappoint. The space is way too broad, the ‘hedgehogs’ (though well used in the sacrifice sequence) dominate the area, robbing it of the detail which is so uniquely PD. The Schliemann area is under-used, the forest too small (unlike the forest in SNM which is also small but feels like a space you can get lost in), the sandy area has no obvious purpose, and even the large table area (I refuse to reference P*tin) seems bare and under-decorated. Iphigenia’s dressing room is exactly the sort of thing we would expect from PD and the shower area works well too. Couldn’t they have filled the intervening space with something more than a big table? This is not to take away from the fine performances that happen on that table, it’s just that there was surely some way to divide up the space so it was just more... well, interesting. There’s obviously some kind of creative decision going into this that I can’t fathom, but it’s put me right off Mycenae. Which is a shame, as there are a lot of things to like performance-wise, like ‘Sing Sing Sing’ and Agamemnon’s death.

(Incidentally, I’ve noticed the main hall in Mycenae is carpeted. This robs it of much of the sensation that it’s a battlefield. It feels like an exhibition centre or an airport lounge. A barer floor would have been more congruent with the intention, surely? Even plastic linoleum would have been better. I also think the main staircase and the upper balcony feel too plain - in the previous productions the bare stairwells didn’t matter because they were out of sight of the main set, and generally only used briefly.)

I suppose the TLDR is that Troy feels like a ‘world’ and Mycenae doesn’t. To me, at least.

But enough negativity, except perhaps to note that the eye-watering ticket prices discourage much further attendance. I certainly don’t have any more shows booked at the moment. But at least I now feel I have something that I yearn to go back to, unlike Kabeiroi which just made me want to walk away in disgust. At last this is actually feeling like the Punchdrunk shows which have given me weird dreams, happy memories and aching nostalgia.

[*Edit: there was no official cast/character list when I wrote this post. We were guessing who was who and Penthesilea seemed the most likely choice. Then the list was published and the mystery solved. (We also thought the Watchman was Odysseus.)]

#punchdrunk #the burnt city

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bestworstcase · 4 years ago

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tired of ‘it doesn’t make sense for cass to trust zhan tiri’ takes

cass is a cautious person with a good instinct for danger which yes means that for most of the show she is indeed the ignored voice of reason saying ‘hey this OBVIOUSLY SKETCHY situation is sketch’ YES

but

in the latter half of 2 she is mutilated by her friend, blamed for it, made to apologize for her own injury, denied any space to feel hurt or upset or angry about this, and literally told ‘you should know we never listen to you!’ when she gets mad about yet another instance of her saying ‘this seems sus’ only for them to literally walk out on her mid-sentence without even acknowledging that she’s speaking.

cass tries again and again to communicate her feelings and every single time she’s brushed off or scolded or belittled by her friends. her friends have so little respect for her that by the time they hit the hoyt the aren’t even pretending anymore. this hurts her, terribly

then - ok listen. take off the ‘zhan tiri is a horrible evil monster’ goggles put aside your entrenched preconceived biases against this character for a minute.

what is the first thing zhan tiri does when cassandra meets her?

cassandra hears a voice calling her name. following it leads her here, to a disembodied (disemwalled?) door in some sort of enchanted forest. this is one of those obviously sketchy situations that instantly puts cassandra on her guard: she draws her sword while getting her bearings.

[sidebar: those light-and-dark green swirls on the forest floor look an awful lot like the clouds in the lost realm, don’t they?]

then:

ZHAN TIRI: There you are, Cassandra!

[Cassandra looks around, sees Blue, and lowers her sword slightly in confusion. Blue approaches her.]

ZHAN TIRI: I’d nearly given up on you.

CASSANDRA: [shaken] Who- who are you?

ZHAN TIRI: A friend. Or, at least—I’d like to be.

cass at this point is baffled but still on her guard - she holds her sword in a low guard and she’s physically leaning away from the unsettling ghost child.

more important here is zhan tiri’s opening gambit. ‘a friend, or at least i’d like to be.’ she’s dodging the question of what her name is, yes. but also the second part of that statement implies a correction of the first, an acknowledgement that they are not friends and becoming friends is contingent on whether cassandra accepts her overtures of friendship; there is, in saying ‘at least i’d like to be,’ an implication of acknowledgement of and respect for cassandra’s personal boundaries. this is not something cassandra has ever experienced before. contrast it with rapunzel’s aggressive, domineering pursuit of cassandra’s friendship in beginnings.

continuing:

ZHAN TIRI: Come.

[She leads Cassandra away from the door, deeper into the enchanted forest. Though hesitant, Cassandra sheathes her sword and follows.]

CASSANDRA: Wherever you’re taking me had better have a blonde princess.

note how the blank confusion on cassandra’s face hardens into a glare the instant zhan tiri says something that could be construed as a command. cassandra has two years worth of experience in the minefield that is friendship with someone in a position of authority and power over her so of course she bristles at this. i think it is also not coincidental that she refers to rapunzel in response.

but there is also a second dynamic at work here. for two years cassandra’s whole life has been locked into orbit around the blinding sun of rapunzel, and even before then by nature of her existence in the palace as a young girl only a little older than the lost princess she would have spent her childhood in the shadow of a child who wasn’t even present. zhan tiri is the first person cassandra has ever met who is flat out indifferent to rapunzel’s existence. even in vardaros, where cass was better liked by the populace than rapunzel, the people still focused on rapunzel - they disliked her, and they cared enough to make sure she knew it.

but zhan tiri does not give a single fuck about rapunzel. she ignores cassandra’s attempt to make rapunzel relevant to this conversation. she called out for cassandra. she has been waiting for cassandra. she has something she wants to show cassandra. she wants to be cassandra’s friend. rapunzel just...doesn’t matter to her, but cassandra does. and that is disarming, both in the figurative and literal sense. so cass puts her sword away and goes to see whatever it is that this strange child wants to share with her.

[They reach the forest’s edge and enter the memory. Cassandra is startled, struck by the familiarity of this new setting.]

CASSANDRA: This place... feels familiar?

[Blue takes her by the hand and leads her into the cottage. She remains silent, allowing Cassandra to take it all in, until Baby Cass enters with her music box.]

ZHAN TIRI: Do you recognize that child?

[Her prompting makes it click for Cass that she’s watching herself as a child.]

again, set aside your knowledge that zhan tiri is an evil villain and your instinctive distrust of everything she says and just... take a look at this screenshot. what does it look like if you take what zhan tiri says in this sequence at face value?

this is a horrible memory. zhan tiri knows precisely what it entails, because she is the one who dredged it out of cassandra’s mind and set it up for her to experience again. cassandra, however, has only just recognized her younger self and has no idea what’s coming. it’s going to hurt her so badly when she remembers everything—but this is an experience she needs to confront in order to heal from the damage it did to her. so much of her suffering can be traced back to this defining, forgotten moment of her childhood.

we the audience know that zhan tiri doesn’t care, doesn’t have any real interest in genuinely helping cassandra, isn’t revealing this memory to her out of the goodness of her heart - but all cassandra knows is that this is a strange ghost who expressed a desire to be friends and has brought her here to, apparently, show her a childhood memory she forgot. so erase your audience knowledge from your brain for a second and look at zhan tiri’s expression here.

she looks weary. sad, even. she looks like someone who truly values cassandra’s wellbeing, who knows that reliving this memory is going to hurt, who’s showing it to cassandra anyway because she thinks cassandra deserves to know and she understands that this is the root cause of cassandra’s pain and that in order to grow and heal it must be seen, it must be acknowledged, it must be examined.

and that is the impression of zhan tiri’s character that cassandra walks away from this experience with. someone who saw her, and saw her pain, and saw the deep festering forgotten wound of this memory buried under layers of repression and denial, and gently unpeeled those layers and brought that wound to light, because she knew cass couldn’t heal from it if she didn’t know it was there.

moving on:

[Baby Cass approaches Gothel with the music box, only to be coldly brushed off.]

CASSANDRA: ...That’s my...

ZHAN TIRI: Mother, yes. It is.

[Skipping transcription of the remainder of the flashback; what matters is that Blue exists the scene at this point. She isn’t just standing quietly in the corner; she is fully gone, leaving Cassandra by herself to experience the rest of the memory.]

again - obviously zhan tiri knows what happens in this memory, but that isn’t the point. by staying just long enough to help cassandra put this memory into context and then leaving, she gives cassandra complete privacy to process what she is seeing and feel whatever emotional reactions she has to it and express those feelings openly, without any of the reservations she might have about having a breakdown in front of a ghost she met a few minutes ago.

again, contrast this to the way rapunzel treats cass. in under raps, when cassandra tells rapunzel that she’s dealing with ‘some stuff’ and asks rapunzel to wait until she’s ready to share, rapunzel’s response is to stalk her. in RATGT, cass tells rapunzel that she feels disrespected and unwanted and rapunzel brushes her off. in RDO, when cass is mad because rapunzel’s reckless choices resulted in cassandra’s hand being mutilated, rapunzel is furious and backs cassandra into a corner in an attempt to force her to share her feelings and then get over it so things can go back to normal.

how soothing, then, must zhan tiri’s quiet departure must be for cass? how comforting, how much of a relief must it be to have this new person recognize by herself that cassandra needs a moment alone and give that to her without cass even needing to ask?

there is, i think, a direct line of causation between zhan tiri exiting this scene and cassandra crying for the first time in the entire series afterwards while zhan tiri comforts her. cass doesn’t cry, right? even when she thinks rapunzel is going to be trapped as a bird forever, she stops herself from crying. she doesn’t cry when her hand is burnt in the great tree, not even from physical pain. she doesn’t cry in RDO.

but zhan tiri is the only person in the whole series who shows consideration for cassandra’s emotional boundaries, so when cassandra is upset after reliving this memory, she freely allows herself to cry, and she lets zhan tiri comfort her.

because it’s safe. so much blame is heaped upon cass for not being more open with rapunzel, but the thing is - a) cassandra is a lot more open with rapunzel than most of the fandom gives her credit for, and b) rapunzel is not a safe person for cassandra to be emotionally open with because she tramples boundaries, doesn’t listen, routinely chooses to hear only what she wants to hear, and never acknowledges or apologizes for any of the hurt this causes cass.

which segues us into this:

ZHAN TIRI: I’m sorry that happened to you, Cassandra. Sometimes the most painful truths are the most difficult to remember. You’ve always felt outshined by Rapunzel, haven’t you? And you always will, unless...

in this statement, zhan tiri:

1 - expresses sympathy for the trauma cass suffered

2 - empathizes with the pain she feels right now

3 - connects the dots between her past trauma and present angst

4 - verbalizes her fear that this pattern will never change

and

5 - offers to help.

zhan tiri is, once again, the only character in the whole series who does these things. in s1, rapunzel does occasionally try to be emotionally supportive of cassandra - under raps and big brothers of corona are the big examples here - but the way she goes about it tends to do more harm than good. in UR she runs roughshod over cassandra’s clearly stated boundaries and continually escalates to the point of actual literal stalking; in BBoC she utterly disregards cassandra’s statements vis a vis how rapunzel can help in favor of doing a bunch of other things that rapunzel thinks cass should want, and in the process she actively interferes with cassandra’s rest and makes her recovery experience worse.

in contrast, zhan tiri gets it. she is absolutely correct in her perception of the situation: cassandra has been trapped in this pattern of inferiority to rapunzel her whole life. her mother abandoned her for rapunzel, and everyone in her life now is willing to sacrifice cassandra’s needs, her feelings, her physical health on the altar of Rapunzel’s Destiny, and that will never change if she continues on as she has been. and... if cass tried to simply leave, by herself, do you really, truly, honestly think rapunzel would let her go?

she feels trapped because she is trapped, and she’s desperate for a way out, and zhan tiri sees that, understands that, and most important of all, shows her a way out.

so like

when she walked through that door in the house of yesterday’s tomorrow cassandra was a heap of emotional pain and unfulfilled emotional needs—for respect, for compassion, for basic consideration of her boundaries, for someone to see how much she’s hurting, for space to feel things without being asked to sacrifice more of herself for somebody else, for someone to care about her and what she needs and thinks and feels and wants, for an escape from the toxic inescapable dumpster fire of her life—and in the space of maybe a couple hours zhan tiri answered every. single. one.

cassandra entered this situation expecting trouble, and instead she got someone treating her with dignity and compassion for the first time ever sO OF COURSE CASSANDRA TRUSTS HER!!

it beggars belief that the show expects me to believe she never bothered to ask what her new friend’s name was between this point and OAH, and yes, if cass were in a healthier place or surrounded by less toxic people then i’m sure she’d be more inclined to be suspicious of the weird little ghost child who reached into her head and pulled out a suppressed memory. but nevertheless it does, in fact, make sense for cass to conclude after this experience that blue is trustworthy and really does care about her and is a better friend to her than rapunzel.

tts was allergic to acknowledging the legitimacy of cassandra’s grievances in any way after s2 and refused to allow zhan tiri even a modicum of depth as a character so the vast majority of their relationship exists off-screen, which is, yes, deeply frustrating and does a huge disservice to both characters and to the overarching plot of the season. but “why would cass trust her?” is a question the series answers, on screen, in spades.

#rta #cassandra #zhan tiri #long post #it sure does suck for cass that her first taste of what an equitable friendship is like #comes from a horrible evil demon who doesn't care about her and is just stringing her along in order to use her #and then none of her actual friends apologize for treating her like DIRT after said demon stabs her in the back #like good fucking lord no wonder she left at the end #anyway as always i say 'morally complex zhan tiri who actually gives a damn about cassandra' rights

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 6 ~A Wrinkle in Time~

Previously in The Tethered Ties ...

And when he finally glanced back down at the laptop, he nearly choked. Right there on the screen, peering up at him, was a cantankerous-looking, crocodile Dundee version of Harry. Same eyes, the same face, and though a handsome fellow, this man's skin looked weather-beaten, and he had a scary scowl on his face.

"Jamie," Claire giggled. "I'd like you to meet my uncle ...Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, also known as uncle Lamb."

Ah, holy fuck! Though uncle Lamb looked like Harry, Jamie knew this man was nothing like Harry. Harry was ...or had been a polite, refined and jolly ol' chap with a very posh accent. This man was far from the polished look Harry presented. This man looked like he'd seen the world and confronted danger and probably wrestled crocodiles as a hobby. Convincing uncle Lamb that he's good enough for Claire was not going to be a walk in a park. Jamie knew he had a long evening ahead as he gingerly sat down in front of Claire's laptop and braced himself.

Jamie cleared his throat and sat up straight. "Good evening, sir ..."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

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Jamie had a dream. It was unlike any other dreams he had before.

He was cycling down a road, the cold wind stinging his cheeks, a plastic container of pastries in one hand. Excitement rose within as he followed the familiar route to Murtagh's house, huffing and puffing when he picked up speed. He was dropping off his ma's freshly baked treats to his godfather, hoping Murtagh would have time to go fishing.

An ear-splitting screech of brakes echoed in the air, along with mangling metal crashing and twisting.

He stopped. The plastic container dropped from his hand, and his bike collapsed to the ground. He began walking towards the crash site, sensing with every step, he was nearing a metamorphic truth that would change him forever.

Despite the trepidation mounting in his chest, he couldn't stop moving towards the wreck. He quickened his pace and then began to jog, and then he ran. Faster and faster.

He ran until the breath whooshed out from his lungs in burning gasps, and he slowed to a standstill in front of the harrowing scene that was before him.

The wind picked up, and the clouds dimmed the sun. The acrid stench of burnt rubber and engine oil filled his nostrils. A familiar face appeared through the cracked windshield, calling out his name in desperation. For a second, his heart ceased to beat, and his breath caught in his throat.

Harry?

"Save her ...please ..."

The plea struck his ears, and he tried to move, but he was stuck on the spot. He twisted his body and stretched out his arms, willing his feet to budge, straining and grunting and chanting a soundless prayer for strength. A piercing scream jolted him out from his struggle, unfettering him from the invisible force holding him in place, almost tumbling over from the abrupt release. He realised they were cries from a child.

He moved towards the car and wrenched the back door open, seemingly the only side still intact from the collision. A child, no more than the age of five with angry red blotches on her cheeks and wild curls, was restrained by the seatbelts. Her pudgy wee arms were outstretched as she screamed on top of her lungs, crying out for her mummy.

He stared in disbelief, immobilised by the uncertainty of his next course of action.

"Save her, Jamie ..." He glanced up to see Harry's face contorted in pain, eyes imploring. "There's not enough time."

"But ..."

"Go! Take her with you ...Now!"

Spurred by adrenaline and fear, heart pounding against his chest, he began to move. He unfastened the strap across the wean's body and grabbed her from the seat. Wee arms and legs wrapped around him as he spun around and headed for the moor. Holding tight to his bundle, one hand bracing the tiny head pressed against his neck, he ran as fast as he could. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Harry watching him through the window and then the car exploded.

Jamie woke up lurching upright to a sitting position, his top clinging to his clammy skin and his heart racing like a freight train. Swallowing air in big gulps, he yanked off the duvet and swung his legs out of bed, trying to even his breathing. Then he began to shake as he heard the distant roar from the deep recesses of his brain, and the floodgates of memories swung open in vivid hues. It came in massive waves, raising recollections and visions to the surface that had been submerged under the basement of time. A deluge of dispersed images merged into one, and a stream of realisation emerged. Suddenly everything was as clear as day. Everything that Murtagh had told him of Claire's parents earlier was now clicking into place. The child they'd rescued that fateful day was Claire! Except, in his dream, he'd been the only one to save her.

A cold shiver passed through him when a suppressed but very visual memory of Harry sprung into his head just before the car had exploded. Harry had just regained consciousness and had looked straight at Jamie with a sobbing wee Claire tight in his arms, the look on his face branding his consciousness forever. Though it had been relief carved out on the doomed man's face in knowing Claire would live, it had done nought to appease his soul. He glanced over at the woman beside him. She slept peacefully, her soft snores confirming she hadn't been affected by his fitful sleep.

Reliving the sequence of that event, he remembered now how the horror of that day had haunted him. It had been so bad, he'd been coerced to attend counselling by his mother. Too young to process Harry's demise, he'd literally felt on the edge of a nervous breakdown. After a year of refusing to talk about the ordeal, he'd shifted his focus elsewhere to stop the nightmares. There had been this unabating need to atone for Claire's parents' death, the urge to help and protect growing like a snowball, morphing into an avalanche to flatten and destroy any unpleasant memories and replace them with something good. He'd rescued animals and sheltered them in his father's barn. He'd defended kids against bullies at school. He'd volunteered for causes that involved helping the vulnerable. He'd enlisted to be part of the British Armed Forces, hoping to make a difference to the plights of those afflicted. He'd even gone as far as making a promise to his dying friend, killed in action during his SAS days. Jamie had felt so guilty for his inability to protect his best mate, Simon, he'd asked his friend's widow to marry him. Though thankful now the marriage had never taken place after having met Claire, his efforts to appease his guilt had been a struggle. All these years, he'd buried the horrors of war, the memory of losing Simon and images of Harry going up in flames with layers of what he'd thought were reparations. But what he hadn't known, his failings continued to fester below the surface. It was like a wound that refused to heal.

Had Murtagh's revelation triggered the suppressed memories to resurface? Or did it have something to do with his conversation with Claire's uncle Lamb? His mind wandered to their discussion earlier.

"Jamie," Claire giggled. "I'd like you to meet my uncle ...Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, also known as uncle Lamb. Uncle Lamb, this is Jamie, James Fraser ...my boyfriend. I'm staying with him for at least a week."

"Is that right?" the man on the screen harumphed with a growl as he stuck a thick cigar between his teeth. "Not what I was expecting."

Jamie disregarded the not so subtle dig. "Good evening, sir ..." he began.

Claire laughed. "Don't call him that, Jamie. It's too weird!" She glanced over her shoulder as she walked away. "If he's giving you "the look," don't worry. Uncle Lamb is all bluster."

"I heard that," uncle Lamb grumbled.

"Play nice, then!" she shouted from the kitchen.

Jamie eyed the man on the screen and squared his shoulders. He wished he'd been more prepared for this or at least looked presentable. Instead, he resembled a drowned cat after just having arrived home from work. Claire hadn't told him much about uncle Lamb and wondered if she'd said anything about him to the older man.

He stared at Harry's look alike. Does uncle Lamb ever smile? Or is that scowl permanently etched on his face? He wasn't sure. Maybe it had something to do with that cigar hanging loosely in his mouth.

Sizing him up, Jamie presumed they're roughly the same breadth, and if uncle Lamb was anything like Harry in stature, they should be the same height too. It's a good thing they were meeting via video conference. If they had been facing each other in person, he might be less inclined to shake hands, seeing how the older man looked like he was capable of committing murder.

An amused Claire came gliding out of the kitchen with a bottle of beer, seemingly unfazed by tension emanating from her laptop screen. "Don't mind his mood, Jamie," she chirped. "He's just grouchy because five of his men came down with food poisoning. And work is being delayed again."

Uncle Lamb growled. "Don't remind me."

Claire wagged a finger at her uncle before kissing Jamie on the forehead and handing him the bottle. "I'll go prepare dinner."

He took a deep breath as he watched her head back to the kitchen. Uncle Lamb could frown all he wanted. Ultimately, if need be, he would go through twenty uncle Lambs to show the world how serious he was about his relationship with Claire.

Jamie noticed the older man watching him very closely.

"So how are ye?"

"I don't like surprises," Quentin announced, obviously wanting to get straight to the point.

"Neither do I," he returned. Facing off each other for a few silent seconds, Jamie deliberately took a slow slug of his beer. He placed the bottle back down on the table and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "But surprises are nothing new to me. I was trained to be prepared against any surprises," he added, referring to his SAS past.

Quentin ignored the remark. "Claire told me ..." He leaned forward and rolled his khaki sleeves up, exposing tanned sinewy, muscular arms. "...you met just before Christmas."

"That's right, sir ...I mean unc ...I mean Quentin." The older man raised an eyebrow at him, and Jamie raised one back.

"Things seem to be moving along. Fast!"

"Claire and I have acknowledged that."

"She was there with you only a few weeks ago for her holidays. She's just got back to work. Did you persuade her to come back?"

"She's got a mind of her own."

"Are you serious about her?"

Jamie tried not to look rattled as the older man bombarded him with questions. It was only natural to be concerned about his niece. "Aye, I built her a shed." Ach shite, wrong answer ...what the fuck was that, ye clot-heid? He felt like kicking himself.

Quentin watched him in stony silence. "A shed?"

He inhaled deeply, careful not to show any signs of frustration. "Actually, it's a writing studio," he explained, feeling the heat crawling up his neck. "For when Claire comes over for a visit. She can work undisturbed there. I've even soundproofed the walls, and it's been comfortably furnished ."

Quentin said nothing. Instead, he slowly placed the cigar on the ashtray, raised his brandy snifter to his lips and drank.

Determined, Jamie pushed on. "Claire has handed her notice to her boss, and once her commitments in London are done, she'll be moving here ...to Broch Mordha." He tamped down the rising emotion from his throat as he thought of Claire preparing dinner for him in the kitchen. "Look, I may not look like the man ye hoped for, for yer niece, but ye dinnae ken me. I admit I come with a lot of baggage, but I'm working hard on it, and she's helped me tremendously in dealing with ..." He trailed off. He didn't want to pull the PTSD card out. This was about Claire, he reminded himself. "I ken her history. I ken she's moved a lot, lived in boarding schools, nae home to go to during the holidays, following ye half-way around the world when school's out. She told me she's never felt any sense of belonging anywhere ..." Quentin glanced away. "I want ye to know, I willnae be just another stopover for Claire. And even if she has to travel long distances to visit ye, she'll always have a place to return to. I have roots here, and I can give her..."

Quentin crossed his arms. "Give her what?"

Jamie cleared his throat. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm serious about taking our relationship further. As ye can see, she's staying here in my home until she goes back to London. Though there is this unspoken understanding between Claire and me, I dinnae want to be presumptuous ..." Jamie rolled his head to ease the tension in his neck. "...in thinking, she will move in with me when she relocates here to Broch Mordha. But I plan on asking her. And it would be verrae nice if ye could give yer blessing and ..."

He shook his head. "No!" His grin was more like a baring of his cigar-stained teeth. "Ask me again in a year."

Jamie ran a hand through his hair. "All due respect, I ken she will say yes when I ask. And I ken she's stubborn enough to make up her own decisions with or without yer blessing. But I'd rather I have it ...for all our sakes. I'm no' sure if ye are aware, but I have my own business that I share with my brother, I own a house, I have no mortgage, and I make enough to provide for both of us with enough left for savings. She can pursue her dream of writing to her heart's content without worrying about finances."

"You overlook the fact that she's a city girl. What if her writing career never takes off? What are her possibilities in the Highlands?"

"Oh, but it will take off. I have faith it will. She's very passionate about pursuing her dream, and rightly so, because she's a talented writer. I can attest to that because I've read one of her finished works."

Quentin's face softened just a tiny bit. "You have?"

"Aye, I have," he hedged. "Claire should have published her work ages ago, and I plan to encourage her to do just that. Her writing would be a wonderful gift to the world."

"You're doing a lot for someone you barely know."

"Quentin," Jamie sighed, swallowing his exasperation. "I'm in love with yer niece. I'm aware everything between us is happening fast, and I dinnae suppose there is a timeframe or formula to follow when it comes to relationships. I'm just winging this and going along with my guts. And my guts are telling me Claire is the one. I still cannae believe someone like her is even real and that she loves me back. I sometimes wonder if I'm dreaming. She brings the best out of me, and I want to do the same for her. So if helping her realise her dreams is all I have to do to keep her, that's what I'll do."

A few heartbeats of silence and watching each other closely passed before Quentin spoke again. "What did you say your last name was? I didn't quite catch it."

Ach, Christ, he's gonnae do a background check on me! "Fraser," Jamie replied.

The older man let out an impatient grunt. "Yes, yes, but which Fraser do you belong to? There are a lot of Frasers in the Highlands."

"My parents are Brian and Ellen Fraser," he replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Quentin's brows knitted together, and his stubbled jaw flexed twice. "You mean Brian and Ellen from Lallybroch?"

Jamie shifted in his seat. "Ye know them?"

"And you're Jamie?" Quentin asked, ignoring his question.

Confusion descended over Jamie as he saw the transformation in Quentin's face. "Aaaye," he said slowly and deliberately. Where in the bloody hell is this going to, now?

"And Claire wants to move in with you?"

"As I've said, I havenae asked her, but I think she would like the idea of us living together. It would make perfect sense since we do love each other."

He grabbed the cigar and pointed the tip in his direction. "You have my blessings." Ignoring Jamie's sharp intake of breath, he tipped back the rest of his brandy. "Conditions are, there should be once a week phone-calls. Video or facetime ones or whatever you call it. And when I'm on British soil ..."

Jamie suddenly straightened up on his seat. "We'll visit, or ye can come and stay with us."

Quentin shot up on his feet. "Very well then, welcome to the family, Fraser. Go and get your dinner ...you wouldn't want your wife ..." he coughed, his face turning red. "...I mean your girlfriend reheating what she's just lovingly made."

Jamie got up as well, ready to shut the laptop, relief and confusion at the sudden turn around washing over him in waves. What the fuck just happened? Too bewildered for words, "Of course," was all he could muster.

Quentin hesitated, as if in search of the right words, his throat working overtime. When he finally spoke, Jamie couldn't help but hear the emotion in the older man's voice. "If Claire's father was alive today, he would think his daughter has made a fine choice."

His jaw dropped involuntarily. "He would?"

There was no reply. Too shell shocked, Jamie stood there staring at the screen for a full minute, long after Quentin had signed off.

When Claire reappeared from the kitchen, she launched herself into his arms and whispered, "Hungry?"

His bewilderment evaporated, happiness shrouding around him in such a way he knew everything was going to be alright.

Puffing out a breath, Jamie shoved a hand through his hair and made his way to the bathroom. He knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep for a while, so he might as well washed off those vivid dreams of Harry and clear his thoughts of that conversation with uncle Lamb. He felt like he was living in the Twilight Zone and badly needed to get his equilibrium back.

The silence of the night closed in around him until the soothing spray of the shower hit his skin. He wondered if Claire would remember anything from her parents' accident. She'd mentioned a couple of times, she had been five when they passed away. Considering that Claire was now in a happy place, content and well-adjusted, it was probably not the brightest of ideas to conjure up her past. But then, on the other hand, he suspected she might want to know what had happened that day. After all, she did have the right to know her history, no matter how painful.

The image of Claire's bright amber eyes and husky laughter flashed in his mind.

Jamie sighed, turned off the shower, and quickly dried himself off. When he realised Claire wasn't in bed, he made his way to the kitchen. He quietened his pace when he found her dropping teabags into two mugs, wearing only his t-shirt and a pair of woollen socks. She didn't hear him approach at first, looking deep in thought as she waited for the kettle to boil.

Moonlight streamed in through the kitchen window, creating a halo out of the wisps of curls framing her face, the whole scene reminding him she was everything he wasn't, a shining light where he watched her in the shadows. Sorcha! A force within spurred him towards her, needing to touch that light, hoping it wouldn't fade with his damaged soul.

"It's late, Sassenach. What are ye doing up?" he asked, walking towards the fridge.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" she jumped, hands flying to her chest. She tucked a loose curl behind her ears and faced him with a sigh, a small smile slowly forming her lips. "You weren't in bed, so I thought you probably had one of your nightmares. I'm making us some chamomile tea. It helps with sleep and relaxation."

He wasn't sure if this was the time to tell Claire about his dreams, so he dismissed it with a wave of a hand and smiled. "Just a strange dream. Is that one of yer herbal remedies?" he asked, stirring the subject to something neutral.

She lifted a shoulder. "Something like that."

He opened the fridge and found a rainbow of colours of fruits, vegetables, yoghurts and juices. Claire hadn't been kidding when she'd said she went food shopping today. Obviously, root vegetables, eggs, cheese and a container of hummus he'd bought wasn't enough. Smiling, he grabbed a pear and shut the fridge door. "Do pears go with chamomile tea?"

Her face lit up, making his heart expand. "I suppose so." She poured hot water into the mugs and brought their teas to the dining table, Jamie following close behind her. "And it's good for you. You ought to eat more fruits."

"But you bought enough pears to feed an entire village, Sassenach," he pointed out, biting into the succulent fruit.

Claire giggled as she sat down. "The other bag of pears are for the sticky toffee pear pudding I'm going to make. Uncle Lamb loves making it for me whenever he comes over for a visit. So I thought I'd make some for us. He told me the recipe he uses was from my mum."

The way she smiled fondly at the memory made him want to draw her into his arms, but he took a seat instead. "With pears? I've only ever had normal sticky toffee pudding," he said, sipping some tea. "My ma makes it sometimes."

Her eyes twinkled. "I was told my mum loved to bake. And apparently, according to uncle Lamb, my favourite was cream buns."

Curiosity started to niggle in his belly at the mention of Claire's mother, even though he rebelled against it. Is this the time to talk about the death of her parents? Before he could change his mind, he came straight out with it. "Sorry to change the subject, Sassenach, but I have something to ask. What made ye come to the Highlands every Christmas?" he asked. "Ye mentioned once, ye like coming here during the Holidays. I mean, it's a great place to spend Christmas and all, but is there a particular reason?"

For a long moment, she stared at him with a faraway look. He realised he was holding his breath, half of him already regretting asking the question. There was a possibility her answer could lead to resurrecting a tragic event and snuffing the light out of her. And he needed to bask in her light some more. What was he thinking? Leave the past in the past, Murtagh had told him. He didn't know what lay on the other side of bringing up her parents' death. Either way, Claire didn't need to be dragged down with a sad memory.

Feeling suddenly foolish, he put down the pear he was eating and reached out to touch her hand. "Ye know what. Dinnae answer that. It's getting late. The tea is working its magic already, and I think I'm ready to go to bed."

A delicate frown marred her brows. "Are you sure you don't want to know?"

Am I sure? No, not really. "Go on, tell me then."

She suddenly beamed like the light that she was. "The reason why I love coming back to the Highlands every year is, this is the place where my parents met and fell in love. I'm not quite sure where exactly, but it was somewhere around here. As far as I know, the Highlands was their happy place where they made loads of happy memories and great friends, and every time I come here, it makes me feel closer to them. You might find it odd, but I do feel most at peace here. There's something that draws me to come every year. Call it gravitational pull or whatever. But it feels like it's my parents' way of sharing their happiness with me. Am I making any sense?"

His breath of relief released in a slow rush, lightness invading his chest, as he realised she didn't remember anything of her parents' death. Or at least he presumed so. But, if it's his burden to carry the truth of Claire's parents' death alone, so be it. Why bring up something dark that has no place in their lives anymore? Maybe one day ...in the far future. Her hand still in his, he stood up, pulling her to her feet before lifting her into his arms. She squealed in surprise. "It doesnae matter if it makes sense or no', Sassenach. If it feels right to ye, then it must mean something. Who knows, maybe the reason ye're probably drawn to the Highlands is that ye were conceived here. Have ye ever thought of that?"

Claire slipped her arms around his neck and smiled. "Or maybe ..." she leaned in to nibble at his earlobe. "...because I was drawn to ye. Have you ever thought of that?"

Jamie laughed as he started to walk them towards the bedroom. "C'mon off to bed with ye ...I have an early start tomorrow."

Claire eyed him mischievously as she snuggled closer. "To bed or to sleep?"

With a guttural groan, he lowered his head, brushing their lips together as he gave his answer in kisses.

Dear Readers,

I hope this chapter made sense to you. As you might have noticed, I didn't write the events in this chapter in chronological order, and I hope you can understand why I wrote it the way I did. If it didn't make any sense, please, I'm all ears ...ask away, and I'll answer.

It was a challenge writing the dream part, so I hope I've done it justice. And mostly, I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed seeing the feedbacks in the previous chapter. So a big thank you for that!

Let me know what you thought about the latest instalment and until the next update, take care of your health and keep up the positive vibes. X 😀❤️

ADDED UPDATE - An explanation to this chapter

I was trying to be clever and do the first two part of this chapter in the reverse order that I may have left you confused than enlightened. I have copied and pasted an explanation to the question posted by one reader in AO3. I hope this will help clarify things. So here goes:

The dream was brought about by two triggers. First, was Jamie's conversation with Murtagh in Chapter five. Although in Jamie's dream he'd been the one to save Claire, in reality, it had been Murtagh. But it was Jamie who carried Claire to safety after Murtagh instructed him to. This was the conversation:

Murtagh puffed out a breath. "The last time ye saw Henry, he was in a car accident ...with his family."

"What?" he choked.

Murtagh turned tired-looking eyes on him, and there was a deep sadness in them that startled him. "It was the day they were coming back to Broch Mordha for the first time in years. I heard talks around the village that they've rented a wee cottage from Mrs Baird. And also heard words about a wean. I didnae want to stick around to find out. I thought I'd take a wee trip to Skye and stay there until Henry and his family were gone. I was just packing when ye came barging into my hoose tellin me that a car had smashed to a tree. I came running oot like a gudgeon with ye right behind me. Ye must have been nine or ten. It wasnae far from where I lived then. By the time I got there, Henry was still alive, and Jules was unconscious. He ordered me to get the bairn first and then Jules. My first thoughts were to save Jules, but the wee child was screaming, and Henry was begging me to save her. Between the two of us, we managed to get wee Claire oot, and I ordered ye to take her as far as possible from the site. And that ye did. But I couldnae save Harry and Jules because the car caught fire and Henry lost consciousness. When I smelt gasoline, I had to run, and that's when the car exploded."

The second trigger was brought about by seeing Uncle Lamb's similarity to Harry and also by their conversation via video conference. Towards the end of their conversation uncle Lamb realised Jamie was the young boy who'd carried Claire to safety before the car exploded. Uncle Lamb would have remembered this because he was the only living guardian of Claire and the story of his brothers' demise would have been passed on to him when he came to collect Claire. You will also notice that Jamie found it strange the sudden turn around in uncle Lamb's demeanour at the end of their talk. But Jamie hadn't known the reason for this until after the dream. The dream in a way brought back all the suppressed memories and everything clicked in place together.

Now Jamie is unsure of asking Claire what she knew about the crash and telling her his dreams. Seeing her happy and contented, he didn't want her to relive that past in case more grief than good comes out of it.

I hope I made more sense here. X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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fbfh · 4 years ago

Text

light up the dark [V] - leo x reader

genre: romance + action + enemies to lovers kinda

word count: 2.4k

au: none

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: yes teehee

warnings: spoilers for HOO but like what’s new, at least one fuck, mentions of breakfast foods and burger king, one “cranberry fucknut”, brief visit to a historical memorial site, I think that’s it????

summary: you have a very weird dream that leads you to realize you’re actually on some kind of quest! very fun! you, Leo, and Jason follow a lead, find out Chiron’s sending you guys some backup, and realize you’re going to need a very large airbnb

listen to: making mirrors - gotye aka the best dream sequence music

also we’re the rats. it’s not relevant just living in my brain.

a/n: honest to god it tookme so long to write this i forget what happens in the first half rip

also requests r open uwu

Your dream is unnerving, and not just because you had spent years in a dreamless sleep and forgot what dreaming was like. Okay, partially because of that, but also because of the atmosphere.

You’re standing in a dark room. It’s pitch black, but you can make out the shape of the room, which is unusual to say the least. It’s long and rectangular, and the ceiling has cylindrical indents, almost as if giant logs were supposed to fit there. The indents go across the short side, with another in front of it, like a rope bridge across a river. Giant curved metallic discs like flat mushrooms are embedded in the ground at regular intervals.

You get the feeling something’s missing. You stare up at the ceiling trying to get more information, when something hot and glowing presses against the roof. It shines through, casting everything in a strange pink light. You can’t see it, but you know what it is. A translucent sundial that gave off a glowing orange cast.

Sunstone.

You look back down not wanting to hurt your eyes, and they fall on someone else in the room. He hadn’t been there a second ago. He’s blonde, and looking up at the ceiling, seemingly unbothered by the blinding light.

“He has it,” he says, wistfully, almost regretfully.

"Who?" You question.

"I can't pronounce his name, no one can."

"How can we get it back if we can't find him?" He smiles, liking how you know what he needs you to do before he even tells you.

"I can't tell you his name, but he's very old… some may even say archaic…" He looks at you with intention, searching for a spark of understanding. He doesn’t find what he’s looking for, and continues, “and not far from here. Which is good, since I need you to get it back for me.”

“How do we find it?” He tosses you a small, clear container filled with what looks like yellow slime. You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“It’s a drop of sunshine,” he explains, “don’t touch it or you’ll burn up. It’ll glow when you get closer to what you’re looking for.” You tuck it in your jacket pocket.

“Can-”

Before you can get out the rest of the sentence, you feel like you’re being pulled out of deep water. Your eyes shoot open, and you take in a quick breath through your nose. You open and close your eyes a few times, and push yourself into a sitting position. There’s a weight on your stomach and you trace the hand back to Jason, who had gently nudged you awake moments ago. His mouth is open and there’s a stale smile, like he was about to tell you to rise and shine. Your stare is unwavering, and he retracts his hand.

“Uh… breakfast is ready,” he says, turning back and heading over to the couch.

“Kay,” you mutter, still groggy and disoriented. Maybe sleep just isn’t for you. Jason hesitates about half way across the room, noticing the lack of cat-like vengefulness in your tone of voice.

“...You okay?” he asks softly.

“Fine, just a weird dream,” you roll your shoulders, back sore and stiff, to try and loosen the two stubborn knots just below your shoulder blades. His eyebrows furrow at your words and you continue, “I’m starting to think I should add a little chloroform to my sleepy time tea.”

“What happened?” he asks, sounding way more serious than you’d expected.

“I dunno, I-” he cut you off, calling for Leo. Jason encourages you to tell them what you’d dreamed about as in depth as possible once Leo comes in from the sitting area, so you don’t have time to gauge how he seems after last night. You feel a little silly trying to describe a surreal dream to them, especially since they seem to be paying such rapt attention. After recalling as many details as you could, they sat in silence for a minute. They share a look, then sigh in unison. Jason pushes up his glasses and squeezes the bride of his nose as Leo lets out a soft ‘fuck’.

“I’ll go iris message Chiron, Leo, do you want to get some food and offerings to burn?” Jason says. Leo agrees, and Jason’s already in the sitting area, misting water in the air with a squirt bottle. Leo puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Why don’t you get dressed, I already made some coffee,” he says, the spike of hesitance that shot through his stomach at his instigated physical contact dissolving when you nod sleepily. An unusually warm feeling clouds through you, less distant and detached than normal. You realize while digging through your bag that for whatever reason, you didn’t hate the feeling of Leo’s hand on your shoulder. You grab your clothes from your bag, and feel a weight in your jacket. You reach into the pocket, and pull out the “slime” from your dream. It glows briefly, fading as you walk towards the bathroom. Huh, you think, at least now we know what to look for. You’re grateful for the example as you get dressed and freshen up, wondering what the hell happens next.

Burning the food doesn’t take long. Leo throws the extra breakfast they’d ordered onto the metal table on the patio, except for a piece of toast he held in his hands. He summons fire until the toast is engulfed in flames, and drops it with the rest. He fans the smoke and asks for guidance, protection, typical pre quest stuff. After a minute or two, he pours out a pitcher of water to extinguish the flames, and heads back into the sitting area with Jason. On his way, he watches you through the open bathroom door for a second as you put on your makeup. You sure are different from girls he’d liked in the past. A strong twinge of pain from the previous night makes him flinch. He shoves it away, and takes a seat, greeting Chiron through iris message. Jason had just finished filling him in on the dream and the sundial, and he looks worried.

“I was afraid this might be the case. I'd gotten word that something like this might have happened, but I hoped it was just hearsay… I'm sorry boys, but you're most definitely on a mission from the gods. The story behind that sundial is long and complicated; in summary, if Apollo does not have his sundial by june, summer cannot happen."

"Wh- like, time will stop?" Leo says.

"Will it just skip to autumn?" Jason adds.

"What about Persephone?"

"Can Demeter do anything?"

Chiron holds up his hands to quiet them.

"I wish I could say, but no one really knows what will happen, only that we do not wish to find out."

"So, what do we do?" Jason asks.

"Who can I send?" Chiron says to himself, "Dear gods, this is… unfortunate."

"Chiron," Jason says again, getting his attention.

"Right, I'm sorry my boy, this whole situation is… preoccupying." Jason agrees, and asks what they should do next.

"Get as much information as you can from what Apollo has told you. I'll gather some people to send over at once, they'll be on their way shortly. This is most distressing…" he trails off, lost in thought again, and the iris message cuts out. Jason's stomach is in knots.

After freshening up, you get dressed, having chosen your clothes deliberately before. If shit’s about to hit the fan, which it looks like it is, you’re going to need a strong balance of comfortable and kick ass. Plus, it’s still the cold part of spring, and New England weather is no joke.

You assess yourself in the mirror, satisfied with your choice; half black half gray cargo pants with chain belts, a long sleeved fishnet top with a black crop top over it, and one of your favorite pairs of platform boots. You topped it off with a layered choker studded with black jewels and delicate chains, asymmetrical earrings - one attached to an ear cuff, the other dangling - and a ring that looks like a snake wrapped around your finger. Last but not least, a dark olive green bomber jacket with ‘god save the queen’ written on the back in paint.

Your mind wanders as you lean closer to the mirror, laser focused on perfecting your eyeliner. The memory of Leo’s hand on your shoulder creeps back up, and your brow furrows at the panicked flush to your cheeks, wondering why you didn’t push him off.

‘Some cranberry fucknut broke his heart last night, I didn’t want him to feel worse’, you think deliberately, refusing room for any objections or alternative solutions your brain keeps offering up. You finish your makeup relatively quickly, pleased at how much better it looks when you don’t sleep in it for years. Your hair is… hanging in there, but you can’t drop everything and redye it now. At least you know what color you want next - a nice, coral tinted red. You’ll have to keep an eye out the next time you go shopping.

Finally, you’re ready. You put away your makeup and pajamas, and make your way over to the boys. You grab some coffee and pick at a muffin, the strategy session beginning.

Jason takes a sip of his own coffee, scowling at the slightly burnt taste.

“Where should we start looking? Do we have any decent leads?”

You sip your coffee, your face mirroring Jason’s moments before.

“The guy from my dream-”

“Apollo,” Jason interjects.

“Right,” you continue, “he said whoever has what we’re looking for has a really hard to pronounce name or something. Maybe we can start there.”

After some back and forth, and consulting of travel guides, you find a memorial for some historical figure with a name that definitely would have gotten him bullied.

“Wasn’t that guy a demigod?” Leo asks, and Jason confirms. You’re already checking the maps scattered around for a route.

“It looks like it’s pretty much just further west from where we are, we can probably get there pretty easily,” you remark. Jason and Leo look at you, then each other. No one has any better ideas, and at least it’s some kind of lead.

Four and a half hours later, you sat in the car in stumped silence. It took almost three hours to get up to the memorial site, an hour to look around and realize there is absolutely nothing there that can help you at all, ten minutes to debate what to do next, and twenty minutes to get burger king, since no one had eaten since breakfast.

“Well, that sucked.”

Leo and Jason give you a look, knowing you’re right.

“Yeah, it did.” Jason agrees matter of factly, earning a small chuckle from you and Leo.

“So what do we do now?” Leo asks.

“Well, no one’s around, we could probably iris message Chiron-” before he could finish his sentence, a shimmery image of a tan girl with choppy dark hair appears in front of him.

Jason and the girl - Piper, apparently - greet each other enthusiastically, then Leo follows suit. It looks like she’s in a cab, holding something at arm's length. You make it out to be a phone, probably to trick her cab driver into thinking she’s on a facetime call or something. Two other people lean over, one blonde and smiling, the other dark haired and irritable, and more greetings are exchanged. You lean slightly to the side so you’ll be out of site and hopefully won’t have to make any introductions. Leo seems to catch onto this, and when Piper’s eyes land on the edge of your shoulder.

“So did Chiron send anyone else?” he asks before she can say anything.

“Yeah,” she replies, “Frank and Hazel are coming from camp Jupiter; Frank’s flying, and Hazel’s getting a ride from Arion,” Leo and Jason nod in understanding, picking up instantly on her deliberate word choice. Christ, you’re going to have to get a bigger place than that hotel room.

“Uh… Percy and Annabeth just started spring break, so they’ll be coming soon. Hazel should get there first, for…” she glances at the cab driver, “obvious reasons, and me, Nico, and Will are on our way now, we should be there in a few hours.”

Your skin is already feeling prickly from the idea of being around that many people. They talk for a few more minutes, and Jason says he’ll tell them the specific address as soon as possible before ending the call.

Thankfully, you all had repacked the car with your bags from the hotel room before you left, just in case you needed anything, so there’s no need to make the two and a half hour trip back to the hotel. You sigh and turn to the boys.

“Why don’t we go get some groceries and stuff, and I can get us an air bnb.”

They agree, pleasantly surprised and grateful for the normalcy of something like grocery shopping, and you ask how many people there are going to be.

“Uh, should be te-”

“Eleven.” Leo says firmly. Jason looks like he’s going to say something, but he bites back whatever it is. Leo’s hands normally dance around like swirling snow, light and natural with subtle patterns if you can figure them out. But right now, his normal subconscious movements seem to be heavier, more intentional. His relaxed expression is set in stone, a silent plea to move on, act like everything’s normal, and you know he’s covering up the depth of the wound that girl left on his heart. A twinge of concern flares in your gut, and you blink, looking away.

“Okay,” you say, pulling out a pen and notepad from your bag to write out a grocery list, “Let’s go. What do we need?”

Jason pulls out of the parking lot, and begins to head to the nearest box store. Your eyes dart over to Leo involuntarily a few times, and by the time you’re almost there, he seems to be almost back to himself. Subconsciously relieved, your mind starts to wander back to the list, skimming it one more time to make sure you don’t forget anything.

Maybe you can pick up some hair dye while you’re here.

#Leo Valdez #leo x reader #leo valdez x reader #Heroes of Olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #LV light up the dark #enjoy babes teehee

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marvel-ousnesss · 4 years ago

Text

The one with all the theatrics (Zuko x reader)

Summary: Following your escape from the air temple, you and the rest of the gaang made it to Ember Island. This gave you and Zuko the chance to make up for lost times. More specifically, camping, training, and a night at the theater.

A/N: This was meant to be a shorter follow-up for this fic, but can be read on its own. As always, enjoy 💜💜💜

Word count: 3k (???)

masterlist

The group eyed you with curiosity as you sat down in front of the pot full of rice and water. Zuko and Aang settled by your sides and the others sat around, closing a circle. Zuko lit a small fire on his hand, and you stretched out a hand to transfer the hit to the pot, closing your eyes and enriching your breath. In a matter of seconds, the water had boiled and the simple meal had begun to cook.

You gushed about the nice weather for a bit, and told them about the few times that you and your father had gone camping as you grew up. You were about to tell them about the time you learned how to climbed, but were interrupted by Toph’s stomach roaring.

As if on cue, you took a deep breath and sniffed the main course, takin no time on announcing was ready.

Aang helped you fill the plates and Zuko took care of the tea department. When everyone was served, you began eating what was left on the pot.

“You know, I’m glad you guys are here,” Sokka spoke as he stuffed his mouth with rice. “Food had never cooked so fast.”

“Well, glad you found our talents useful,” you laughed, still with one of your hands under the clay dish.

“And Zuko”, he continued, “who would’ve thought you’d save us from Azula after continuously trying to snuff us out.”

You softly shoved him with your shoulder, noticing a light blush gracing his cheeks.

“I can't believe I'm saying this but, today, you're our hero! To Zuko!”

You put the pot down and grabbed your tea, happily toasting with the others.

“I’m touched,” he hummed, “I don’t deserve this.”

“No kidding.”

Zuko’s gaze fell immediately. He didn’t want to confront Katara, but you weren’t about to let her treat him like that any longer.

Afraid of making it shatter, you placed the cup in front of your crossed legs and boasted, “I’m sorry, last time I checked, none of us would be here right now if it wasn’t for him.”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought he could do more than just destroying people’s lives.” Katara stormed off before you could say anything else.

Defeated, your eyes followed Zuko as he went after her.

Knowing he was gonna need some space, you went to sleep right after dinner. A few hours passed and he still hadn’t entered the tent, so you headed out and ignited a small flame that began dancing on your right palm.

You closed your hand when you didn’t see him around camp, putting your fire out. When you were about to get in the tent once again, ready for another attempt of calling it a night, he dragged himself out of Sokka’s tent, awkwardly bumping into Suki.

You snickered at the awkwardness before approaching your friend.

“Wanna talk about it?” you offered. He just walked past you and into the tent.

You could only picture how difficult this whole redemption thing was being for him, so you didn’t push him. Instead, you followed him inside and laid down next to him, honey eyes meeting your own. “She’ll come around,” you whispered.

“It’s not just her, Y/N.” He sat up, letting the blanket fall off his upper body. His raven curls covered his face, and his shoulders fell lifeless and burdened.

You mimicked his posture, and leaned in to grab one of his hands with between yours. “You can talk to me. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he offered a smile, but it didn’t reach past the corners of his mouth. When you squeezed his hand, he exhaled and dropped his head further, ashamed.

“It doesn’t have to be now, if you don’t feel like it.”

As he remained silent, you gathered he was processing whatever had his head spinning. When he lifted his head, you could see the grief and remorse that radiated off him. He took a deep breath before he voiced his thoughts.

“Everything I believed in, how proud I was of being my father’s son. It- it was all wrong.”

You trailed off, “Zuko…”

“I believed all the lies that they implanted on my head. The war, the killings, the burnt villages. I can’t believe it but-”. He sighed. “-Katara’s right. The only good thing I’ve ever done is joining the Avatar and after tonight I know that even that won’t give me my honor back.”

You meditated over what to say, scanning the your surroundings while trying to chose your words. “She needs time to heal, and closure. You know, better than anyone, that honor can always be restored, but it has to be earned back. Maybe if you help Katara get the closure she needs-”

“The southern raiders,” he recalled.

“What about them?”

“Their commanding officer killed Katara’s mother. If she confronts her mother’s killer, she’ll get closure!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, violence won’t help this time, Zuko. If she does anything, she’ll blame you for it when she regrets it.”

He thought about it for a moment, but shook his head. “It’s the only way I can think of earning her forgiveness. I have to take her to them.”

Zuko’s lips were purses and his brow was frown with conviction. There was no way of talking him out of this.

“Guess it’s settled then.”

They left the following night, so the rest of you decided to take that time to move into the fire lord's beach house on Ember Island. As you wandered through the halls, flashbacks of toddlers running around bragging about little fires and sandcastles flooded your mind and you smiled, wishing for better times to be back.

The first night at the house, you went to bed early, eager to get rid of the memories. Although you woke up early the following day, and took a look at the gardens, the kitchen, the library and the guest room that you used to call your own. When you had walked around the grounds for a bit, you decided to join the others, who —you assumed— were hanging by the porch.

The day had practically come to an end, as the sky was a tone of orange and the sun was laying on the sea. You crossed paths with Katara when you headed to the dock, offering a soft smile. You had seen her interaction with Zuko and Aang from afar, and couldn’t be prouder of both of them for coming to terms.

Aang followed her shortly after, leaving you and Zuko alone on the dock.

“I’m assuming it went well.” You stepped forward and sat at the edge, silently inviting him to do the same.

“She almost killed him, then did nothing.”

You shrugged, turning to face him. “For better, I guess. What’s important is that she got what she needed and that you were the one to help her.”

After a moment of contemplative silence, a smirk made its way to the prince’s face and you quirked a brow in question.

“Aren’t you gonna say it?”

“Say what?” You knew what he meant, but were eager to hear him say it.

With a huff and an eye roll, he granted your wish. “That you were right all along. “Violence was never the answer, Zuko; you have to forgive, Zuko; focus on your chi, Zuko; bla bla bla...”

"Why would I say it if you already know I'm right."

"We both know you wanna get it out, this is your moment. I'm all ears."

"Fine, then-." You cleared your throat. "-As always, Prince Zuko, I was right and you were wrong," you gloated teasingly. "And, not that it’s nice to hear you mock my wisdom,” you taunted, shoving his side, “but I'm really happy for you.”

————

Your eyes were glued to the Avatar as he mimicked your every movement. You had lost count of the times either you or Zuko had performed the basic bending sequence with Aang. In general, his steps were calculated as he crossed the beach house patio, and his technique was not bad. But his movement lacked precision; not to mention, the flames he shot were a vivid, airy shade of red.

After shooting a stream of fire with a straight kick, you bowed at each other and you grabbed your water bottle.

“Again.” you instructed, wiping your forehead with your arm. “Your form is sloppy and your fire needs more fuel.”

The three of you had woken up at dawn, ready continue with Aang’s firebending training.

Instead of repeating the sequence once more, he flopped on the fountain and took a huge gulp of water. “Can we just take a break? Like a really, really short one,” he pleaded.

Zuko, who had been practicing some forms based on the Dancing Dragon, took a sit beside him and wiped his brow with his discarded shirt. “I think Aang’s right, he can run it again in a few minutes.”

You quirked a brow.

Zuko had always kept up with you in training; maybe you had gotten carried away. Another glance at him confirmed how drained the three of you really were. Letting out a breath, you agreed. “I suppose we can slow down a bit.”

After you coached Aang through the sequence a few more times, Zuko and him ran a more advanced set and he flew off to take a bath, leaving the two of you. You got up from the stairs and walked up to Zuko, sporting a wide grin that, he knew, could only mean one thing.

“You know,” you tried to play it cool, needless to say failing miserably. “We haven’t sparred in ages.”

He grimaced at you, incredulous. “Y/N, we’ve been training for hours.”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a snail-sloth, flames for brains,” you taunted.

When the nickname left your mouth, his features contoured into a glare of annoyance which later morphed into a grin to match yours. He took a stance and lit his fists, challenging.

You laughed and got into position.

You glided around each other, studying every detail and making sure you could still read one another with only a glance. You mirrored the strike of a jab but lashed a whip with a spinning kick instead. You relaxed a bit, thinking he had been shocked by your attack, but Zuko effortlessly redirected your flames with a flowing movement.

He smirked, not once averting his eyes from you.

“Show off,” you scoffed. Your eyes widening when he dropped a fire lash that missed you by inches.

He chuckled at your expression and kept advancing on you, as you blocked his attacks with a shield. Zuko wouldn’t cave, so you augmented your flames into an arch, using a sweeping arm movement to try and knock him down.

His right leg hesitated so that’s where you blew next, but instead of dodging, like you expected him to, he disintegrated your flame with a roundhouse kick and equipped himself with a fire dagger. You advanced toward him, gaining space, and summoned two daggers yourself.

A few strikes were exchanged, but your simulated Agni Kai quickly morphed into a good old hand in hand encounter. You had to think fast, he had always been a better up close fighter.

With repetitive jabs, you made Zuko’s stance quiver and launched a kick to his ribs as a final blow. He fell on his back but got up with a quick motion, and advanced on you with powerful stomping.

Balancing your options, you walked backwards on an impulsive attempt to get out of his range, unaware of the fountain behind you. Before you could react, a stair took your balance away, making you fall into the water with a loud splash.

Moving a few rebel strands out of your face, you looked up to find a hand stretched your way. “Now I see what you meant. You’re sparring like a kagura dancer.”

You took Zuko’s hand and pulled yourself up, muttering in response.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sokka’s snarky voice made you both turn around to face him and Suki, who were standing by the patio’s gate with a scroll in their hands.

“Flames for brains happened.”

“She fell into the fountain.” You playfully hit Zuko for his response, but he brushed you off with a scoff.

“Anyway…” Sokka’s gaze drifted between the two of you. “We were, you know, out and about, walking around town and guess what we found.”

With a grin matching his, Suki lifted a scroll with familiar faces inked on it. “There’s a play about us.”

You exchanged a sneer with Zuko, but neither of you spoke up. Just then, the other three members of your group strolled into the patio with glasses of coconut water.

“Just in time!,” beamed Sokka, proceeding to read the poster out loud.

Katara immediately expressed her reluctance, to which you responded with a relieved breath. But your joy was short lived as the others coarsed the three of you into agreeing.

“Come on, theater? That’s the kind of saggy nonsense we’ve been missing,” pleaded Sokka.

"But… the Ember island players?" Zuko's voice was a pitch higher as he complained.

“I mean, how bad could it be?” you inquired.

The answer to your question was quick to come. So far, as Zuko had well said it during the first pause, the interventions had been the best part of your night at the theater. Aang had gotten up and left, upset about his portrayal; Katara was trying to convince herself of how inaccurate it truly was; and Sokka, he was just bitter about the way they had limited his sense of humor. As for the rest, you couldn’t help but enjoy the parodic representation of your friends.

Sans Aang, you were gathered by the entrance of the theater, looking up at Suki as you and Zuko sat on the floor.

“It’s like you barely make it alive after all big battles,” she noted.

“Yeah, no offense but you guys lose a lot.” You rested your head on your friend’s shoulder. It was something you did often, but he stiffened for a second.

“Like you two can talk,” huffed Sokka. “It's not like you got captured by Azula or anything. Oh wait, yeah... you did.”

“Asshole”, you snarled, but Sokka showed no remorse. Zuko’s body shook lightly with his chuckle.

“I’m just saying.”

Silence surfaced and, shortly after, Katara left to find Aang while the Fan and Sword Duo embarked themselves on a mission backstage.

“Geez, everyone’s so upset about their characters, even you seem more down than usual,” Toph decreed.

You snorted at her bluntness. “Easy for you to say, 6 feet-tall, ass kicking wrestler.”

“You’re right,” she sighed, “my character is pretty great. Still, it’s just a play.”

Zuko’s gaze fell on his lap. “For me, it’s a parade of all the mistakes I’ve made being shoved in my face. My uncle has always been there for me. He taught me everything I know and and, what do I do? Stab him in the back.”

Your arm looped around his, rubbing his bicep comfortingly. “We’ve all done things we’re ashamed of.”

“But I may never get to redeem myself. Uncle will never forgive me.”

“Zuko, I’m sure he will.”

“Yeah, Sparky, don’t you see it?” Toph sat down next to Zuko.

“What do you mean?” His brows frowned.

“I once talked to the guy. Like, really talked-.” You eyed her with curiosity as she disclosed, “all he did was gush about was you. He loves you.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Neh, more like sappy and annoying.”

You shot the girl an amused side glance. “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine.”

She just beamed proudly at your words. “Anyway, he said he only wanted you to make your own path. To find your destiny. That’s what you did and look where it has brought you… to us!” She punched Zuko, then got up. “That’s already way better than where you were before.”

“Thanks.” He looked up at her with fondness.

“Now, Sokka said something about fire gummies so, if you’re done sulking, I’m gonna go see what that’s about.”

Zuko had lightened up. He was now sporting a relaxed smile and his head rested atop yours. His breathing was serene as he took in Toph’s words. You hesitated, afraid to disturb his demeanor, but, after a moment of thought, let your hand fall toward his. You were gonna loop your fingers together but he beat you to it.

Your breath hitched as you mentally scolded yourself for looking up at him. You tried to say something but no words came out. His golden eyes bored into yours before briefly gracing your lips. Shyly, you leaned up, wanting to get closer. His nose brushed your own before he leaned even further forward, softly pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth.

As the other members of the audience began evacuating the halls and returning inside , Zuko moved to stand up and pulled you with him.

“Come on," he prompted, “I think it’s about to begin.”

Requests open!

tags: @writers-thoughts09 / @eridanuswave

#prince zuko #Zuko #zuko imagines #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #atla #atla imagines #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar imagine #prince zuko x reader #zuko drabble #zuko drabbles #zuko blurb #zuko blurbs #prince zuko imagine

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sirfrogsworth · 4 years ago

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Variable Reactions to Psych Meds

I saw someone on Twitter ask their followers what kind of reactions people had to a certain antidepressant/anxiety medication to help them determine if they should try it. I tried my best not to be a reply-guy and explain why that isn’t a great idea. But as someone who has tried over 40 pills for my broken brain, I felt like I was in a position to offer decent advice on the matter.

And that advice is... don’t crowdsource advice.

For psych meds.

You can crowdsource advice for other things.

I mean, I just bought Shea Moisture shampoo because all of you said it was neato and that worked out okay.

While there are some medications that have consistent side effects (or lack thereof), most psychopharmaceuticals can vary wildly from person to person. One person may have no side effects and no benefits. Another might have lots of side effects and lots of benefits. One might find that Goldilocks zone where the benefits far outweigh any discomfort. Some might just end up puking in a trash can for a day.

Without comparing genetic sequences, it’s unlikely you’ll be able to predict your reaction based on what happened to someone else.

Asking how someone responded to depression medication is about as useful as asking a group about their favorite color to determine your own. In the end, your favorite color is dependent on how it makes you feel inside your very special and unique noodle. The input of others can’t really change that.

YOU NOW LIKE PURPLE!

Did any non-purple lovers change their mind?

YOU NOW LIKE BURNT SIENNA!

Okay, purple lovers, are you heading to the crayon box to worship the sienna?

And is there a color called “properly cooked sienna��?

I digress...

When crowdsourcing medication advice you might also learn about some terrible side effects that a few people had that are rare and scary and anecdotal and then be persuaded not to try a medication. And that fear might cause you to skip out on a therapy that has more benefits than consequences for your specific brain chemistry.

Usually major negative side effects happen in less than 1% of cases. Unfortunately those are the people most likely to yell on the internet any chance they get. “DON’T TRY THAT ONE! YOUR BRAINS WILL LEAK OUT OF YOUR EARS!” And if you go searching for testimonials you’ll get a very skewed sampling. Sometimes people leave positive reviews if they are very happy with their meds. But mostly people will only write about their experience if it was a horrible-no good-super pukey-brain leaky time. And these less-than-1% end up scaring the crap out of people despite not being very statistically significant. The 95% that had mild reactions are enjoying their medication and have little ambition to write lengthy rants on a forum about how well their meds are working. They’re probably starting a garden and growing their own cilantro or some shit. They ain’t got time to rant.

All that said, there are a few exceptions. Some meds do have bad reactions for a lot of people. But you shouldn’t rule those out either. It might be better to think of them as a last resort. Sometimes those meds are worth trying because if you *can* actually tolerate them, they can be a godsend. A classic risk/reward type deal. If you have tried everything else, sometimes that pill with a bad rep might be worth a shot.

And, if all else fails, you are not stuck taking any medication forever. (Just be sure to never stop a medication cold turkey without talking to your doctor first.) There are many formulations of psych meds and if you don’t like how one makes you feel, trying something new might be appropriate. I’ve had meds that were very similar in chemistry, but that slight difference was enough to reduce my side effects. Brains can be very finicky.

I know the trial and error process can be exhausting and grueling at times, but when you find that Goldilocks med, you’ll be happy you went on the journey. Or if you don’t ever find that Goldilocks med (which happens), you can always retrace your steps and choose the one that came the closest.

There is one helpful thing that I have tried in the past that might reduce your trial and error process. There is a program called GeneSight. They do a DNA analysis that generates a list of psych meds that are most likely to have positive outcomes. It’s expensive on its own, but some insurance companies will cover it.

In any case, don’t ask others how they reacted to meds and choose your medication based on that alone. If you want to know about *possible* reactions just to prepare yourself, that can be useful information. Some people like being mentally prepared for a shitshow so they can avoid freaking out when it starts hitting the fan. But if you might be terrified away from taking a possibly beneficial medication, I would suggest just talking to your doctor instead of sampling random folks on the internet.

If you have a doctor you trust, they will tell you about possible side effects. They will also know how often patients experience them, the possible severity, and if those side effects may lessen over time. They are the best person to ask about the pros and cons because they have a large patient base and know the true statistical outcomes.

And if you don’t trust your doctor... you should probably seek out a new doctor.

My number 1 mental health advice has always been, “You are never stuck with the first doctor you visit.”

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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March 7, 2021: Onward (2020) (Part One)

Finding Nemo.

That’s my favorite Pixar film. Real talk, no arguments, and today’s movie? NOT dethroning it. This movie is so hard-wired into my brain, that the second I typed the words of the title, the theme song ran through my head, where it lives rent-free. It will be a cold day when I don’t find an excuse to shout “NEMOOOO!!!! I HAVE TO FIND MY SON!!” at any opportune moment. I will never stop swimming. Whenever I catch a Chinchou or Lanturn in a Pokémon game, I name it “Goodfeeling’sgone”.

SHARK BAIT OOH HA HA

YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE DEPTHS OF MY LOVE FOR THIS MOVIE.

...Ahem. So, yeah, I love FInding Nemo. For the record, the sequel ain’t bad. And also for the record, there’s only one Pixar movie that I consider to be bad, and it’s the one you’d think. You know, the one about ageism. The one where somebody dies by torture? The bad spy movie?

...the second one about cars?

Which means, YES. I DON’T THINK The Good Dinosaur IS THAT BAD! Not exactly good, but its gorgeous, and just kinda boring, not outright terrible. That Styracosaurus, though...that dude is great.

Anyway, off of Pixar for a sec, huh? What about fantasy? I’m a big tabletop RPG nerd, and I’m currently the GM for a Pathfinder campaign, a Pokémon RPG, and a Mutants and Masterminds game, while also playing in a Pathfinder game as well. Yeah, I’m a busy dewd. But what I’m saying is, this movie should be preaching to the choir for me. I’m a Pixar lover who plays RPGs. I’m ready for this. I’m ready for CGI Bright. Which is another way of saying, I’m ready for a version of Bright that doesn’t suck.

So, why haven’t I seen it until now? I mean...COVID-19. This film got FUCKED. But, no matter! It’s on Disney Plus, I’ve got Disney Plus, so let’s get this baby STARTED! Let’s get updated on some Pixar! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

OK, immediately digging the soundtrack over the Disney logo as we jump in here! Very ethereal, very fantasy, very LotR, I LIKE it, I LIKE it! And then...long ago, the world was full of wonder!

We get a view of the world of olde, with magic and many mystical, mythical creatures living together and adventuring. However, as magic wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to use, it eventually gave way to technology, fading away in a world now very similar to ours.

Basically, it’s about the same as our world, except for a few different races, and the fact that dragons are basically dogs, and unicorns are basically raccoons, which is fuckin’ fantastic.

We enter the home of teenage elf Ian Lightfoot (Tom Holland) and introverted now-16-year-old who lives with his mother, Laurel (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) and his older brother Barley (Chris Pratt). Barley’s a tabletop RPG nerd who’s also a fan of the magical past. Said obsessions cause a strain on his relationship with Ian, and with that of his mother’s boyfriend, centaur policeman Colt Bronco (Mel Rodriguez).

After a discussion about Barley’s recent attempt to protect an old magical monument from destruction, he accidentally damages the sweatshirt that Ian is wearing, which was owned by their late father, Wilder. Ian rushes out, flustered, despite Barley’s attempts to bond with him. Well, looks like we have a sense of the plot for this one.

On his way to school, Barley stops to get some food when he meets Gaxton (Wilmer Valderrama), an old college friend of his father’s. From Gaxton, he learns things about his father that he never knew, like that he was bold and standout. From there, Barely pledges to try and be more self-confident, like his father.

Whiiiiiiich, doesn’t exactly work once he gets to school. He fails to stand-up to a jerky guy at school, he fails in his driving class, and he fails to ask other high school kids to his birthday party. But to be fair, Barley helps a bit with that last one when he shows up with Guinevere, his busted-ass van with a unicorn painted on the side. Which is supposed to be uncool...but I kinda dig it, not gonna lie.

After that, Ian completely flubs the invitation bit, confusing the people he was talking to, and disappointing himself in the process. He gets a ride home with Barley, and goes home to talk to a tape recording of his dad. Which is...beautifully sad, and somehow very easy to identify with. So, yeah, it’s gonna be that kind of Pixar movie.

Ian talks to his mom about his father at his age, asking if he was ever unsure. She says yes, but couples this with a surprise: a gift from his late father, who died of a terminal illness shortly after Ian’s birth. The gift is for both Ian and Barley, and was meant to be opened when they were both over 16.

She gets it from the attic, and they unwrap it, where it’s revealed to be a wizard’s staff. Which is weird, because Wilder was an accountant. In a pocket of the wrapping cloth, there’s a letter written by Wilder with the narration from the beginning of the film (that “Long ago” bit).

Also included is a spell, written by Wilder so that he could see who his sons grew up to be. This “Visitation Spell” would appear to be a way to bring Wilder back for 24 hours. Barley, being the magic-lover that he is, tries multiple times to cast the spell with the staff, but fails to do so, much to his and Ian’s great disappointment.

However, when Ian tries to read the spell out of curiosity later, the staff begins to react, and the spell begins to work. Barley comes in as this is happening, and the spell works...halfway. It starts to fail, and Barley offers to help, but Ian pulls the staff away, and the spell stops as the Phoenix crystal inside it shatters.

Looks like another bust, but it’s not a complete failure. And if you’ve seen literally any trailer for this movie, you know what happens.

Although it’s just his legs and feet, it’s still Wilden Lightfoot (Kyle Bornheimer...technically). The boys decide to try and complete the spell, but need another Phoenix Gem to do so. According to Barley’s “historically accurate” TTRPG, Quests of Lore, they will be able to find one by accepting a quest from the place where all quests start: the Manticore’s Tavern. And so, the quest begins!

The brothers and their half-dad board Guinevere and drive to the Manticore’s Tavern. On the way, Barley convinces Ian to practice some spells from the games rulebook, but they don’t work because Ian’s not invoking his passion (or his “heart’s fire”, as Barley calls it). Meanwhile, Laurel figures out where they’re headed, but doesn’t know exactly why...yet.

After the journey, they make it to the Manticore’s Tavern, which is now essentially a themed Chuck E. Cheese’s restaurant, owned and managed by Corey (Octavia Spencer), a very overworked manticore. Which is pretty great, not gonna lie.

They try to get the actual map to the Phoenix’s Gem from her in order to conjure their Dad, but she no longer sends adventurers on dangerous quests, mostly because she doesn’t want to get sued by any injured adventurers. When Ian argues with her about this, she IMMEDIATELY DIVES INTO AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS/MID LIFE CRISIS!

It’s, uh...it’s kind of amazing. Having completely lost it at this point, she basically tears down the entire building with her bare hands and fire-breath. Unfortunately, the map to the Phoenix Gem is burnt in the process of Corey’s literal meltdown. However, as Wilden’s about to be crushed by a couple of falling beams, Ian taps into his heart’s fire.

Nice. They get out of there, and head out for the Gem, using a child’s placemat replica of the real map to make their way to a place called Raven’s Point. However, rather than just follow the goddamn map, Barley decides to go on much more dangerous road known as the “Path of Peril”, once again following the “call of adventure” and his gut.

Which...yeah, Barley’s not really considering the reality of this whole situation, which fits his personality. He’s a dreamer, despite the rational and reasonable solution in front of him. And, in case you weren’t sure, I’m pretty sure that isn’t a good thing.

Ian points out the correct point that what actually matters is that they send enough time with their father, and they do indeed take the straightforward path. Good! Barley listened to Ian’s suggestion after all. However, they hit another snag when the car breaks down, completely out of gas. Problem.

Meanwhile, Laurel makes her way to the Manticore’s place, only to find it on fire! She meets Corey, who tells her that she’s met her boys, and told them about everything...except the curse. Also, there’s a curse. Laurel, who is the best movie Mom ever, tricks a policeman interviewing Corey to diverting his attention away from her, and smuggles her into her car to help find (and maybe rescue) her sons.

Stuck off the freeway without gas, a desperate Ian asks Barley if there are any spells that can get them more gas. They concoct a plan involving a shrinking and growing spell, but that immediately goes wrong as Barley tries to instruct Ian, only frustrating him further, and causing him to fumble the spell and hit Barley with it, making him tiny.

They decide to head to a gas station, where a group of pixie bikers has just arrived. This backfires when Barley, lacking basically any common sense, ends up insulting the biker leader, Dewdrop (Grey Griffin) and her ancestors. Nice one, Barley. As they escape from the pissed off pixies, the tiny Barley is unable to drive, forcing the driver’s anxiety-riddled Ian to drive, overcoming his fears from earlier by force, being chased by the pixies all the way. It’s a pretty good sequence, to be honest.

youtube

Well, they escape the Pixies...but not the cops. And I think that’ll be a good place to pick up in the next part! See you there!

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libidomechanica · 9 months ago

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I sit and pebbles of the thick folds

A limerick sequence

Break my chain, to share these virtuous, that hope is lost. Perhaps not a Slave of Lust must still he bind his lips to search, such a Reign, his Tribes in so euill contented?

Sick Soul! No more; till she paused by Florian added; she within his own: but change decree? The misery is great shapes of the publique Good, add to the wrong berth.

With melting eyes and high spires, when he most rauishing down the pavement were fleet of beaten. She stroke. That was beauty’s grace is such, that then might I found, or the iewell.

Though beauty’s daughters of Albany. The lily, unheeded these? With shadows, where nys to be found the crowd were but to- With gold; and go but it is holy!

Our Laws for such, must bear a’ the last leave me despair: now called love is. Come away, wants to belong, that of Loue, and sunburnt mirth! Intent on her tears are all those.

Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward, nam’d fourth, as first—my heart, there are dazled with Love, as when you reached, thy cup’s heart. Feasted the Pigmy Body to declaim again.

Thereupon she the Peoples Foes: yet some good a King! Eating pavement, old naked is, time was once burnt, such a loft, and calmly flows, has the summer days was odds.

My heart. Thus on my knees. The snowcap gleams with too much. And his pence, this year had exploded symmetrically from myself, and thee. His father to his native sway?

Sea! Or let his jive ass back again undone. Fools that sweet, sweetness, gossip and founded old dreams, before we part, I must tell her will; she would be dear. Together.

And providence did Joyn, for plighted sands; oh night! It was mine’—why am I sitting under our lives; and to Loyalty express, still nobler wealth, the soul seeks.

Bury me while by themselves assured and the Regal Rights. Premier or king! Devoid of Godly Faction, and the softer Adams of your generous as your Praise.

Consumed with him Return. Today when I was taken from times been married him out of him: when we streams of your wineglass is so lovely that I brought up true.

&Alone, twas Nature they learning and set a title vaine scuse giue? Because of course as Samuel used to bite the circuses, so I was disrooted, earth-anchored.

And kept, and Love, t’ acquit such as the brain an image pure? The Lucius Junius Brutus of my desire, slew both heavens Annointed to be Out-done.

Our Authour sweet Beauties white, before have we promise it is winter’s art in reigne dissembling limbs. Will topple to toil, than prove the turmoils they have an ending.

Tell if she had given to ken the side-lie of a winter outside and hymns in three years ago to the sink. It flash of air—am I and Debauchee of Dew.

You were the sequel of thy mind. Was uncertain their busy days. Now that had well for that, but scant appear; the State; but sweeping like a green wood, see ye warp not.

Sick, and vine: but with Brocade of two, and set my heart which whoever tastes shall I fix you, freeze you, my Friends destroyeth. I’ll love’s delight can never broke his Highness.

Behold talk, and groned, Alack, Alack, Alack. Then, love me, Royal Planet rul’d the Nation grieve: for witnesses will show then shoud People mighty Years, thy breast.

With my net. Well hearts, which did not do. Against the court to Lady Psyche, ’ Florian asked, to whome my Muse tumbled thou so fair as thou take the Serpent the house.

That Change their hushed joy, going schwa in the chain of life, whom we love the sonne. Two plummets dropt for once again with much contemns poverty, and turned the wine in ten?

For Ten to One, in for a sigh—it was desolate and she forget the vats upon those who give their Posterity. Deepening breast. See thee vantage melts the Prince.

And mark yon meeting. Has exercis’d the Government. We lie near each other, and tempt the texts written in the vista of years, but the gayne, paying but a child.

How might drink your bookless wings: from reddened eve he view; else call it winter in Florida. And Jebusite. Never been arraigned, to leap the deed he loathes?

Rebellion may come, can yet thy image of touch unique to us. Lies hatching still strongest; the bright still and of power; your back. As an infant joys renew!

The Gate her Kind? Of foes the rose. What are you that may be dissolved in rosy wine while Nation’s Curse, to Plots, shall aske. This love even, as if to love has made of.

He stride, which it was bom old. There lies a bright Marigold of Leutha, seeking flood on a mailens. Fame: I now that heavy do I journey on the shepheards swaine.

By their praise, that will Oothoon is on her smiles, and the window my body a bundle of grave-damps falling through. The morning saw the Ladyes their forms of delight.

And catch at and light; yet then whom the earth and trouble free. Sea, low, low, breath into thee ioy of the tree of life in the outer air were most faith or honor’s laws.

Is not the rose. And which is why you feel to-day. While times; then grew more strong to me did beam. The Joyfull Peoples Prayer, then given its own improbable bees.

I pluck the Prince your lap, and thus she sings. One little eyes which being spent, in lustihede and glasse he tooke: wherein I am not mine own weakness be undone.

She wound so fit for him he Suffer, that made him good glee, all for Worship at the leg. For witnesse of that her sighs. Like salt over and because the promise, all.

Was a bus. Not entering in my brain, to take the Fury of disbelief, the new name thou shalt find this frenzy insufficient reason, and Priest, which the things?

Best and bring waters round were closed. Th’ Offending on the blow of Fate, the small remember, do not this Vertue is made; and when, wise afright, yet Dauntless and die!

The tin-roofed station. With the Dutch a thick upon the highway, but never honest man that pines for hir darlings sake, knowing the me once asleep: so the summers.

With the secret shadows numberless, of perfect song into our Eyes; a Cataract that, nor any such skirts of the human kind. Him of the Law shall we think!

Began to glare at me on me! When, as if they meet; so unhappily forsworn. Make the state, the Devil is still succeed the face you see,—with such skirts of France.

Like a sea-fish. And let go. As, thou art a queer sort of its own work marred: for the sill and clown: perhaps from Foes unpunish’d never Ceases to acceptance be.

With content, happy, nestling for his head, at night all that is far conquer all thy shadow, like thee to thee. ’St that rich fooles there! Whence doth cherish his complain.

Rather Curse with mighty potentates, louers of Lordship and tremble? In them, messing the striking resemblance between a bag of individually the kitchen.

And are nothing strange cup amassed five beetle brow sun-shaded in snow: arise to the Lady Psyche, both in excess! Making love or coyn, in Corah’s own heart.

Or book or lute; but not your love her, and pledge, and a Wife. At either close the Slaves.&Carved so elaborately maybe a college friends, and the elms, and whay, and place.

Foment to gathering darkness is in my Muse or a cov’ring to Jack, and laid out a shadows? Old England: old England, old England: old England: old England.

Though lesse gifts impe feathers grace my grief! Boom of the publick Scorn, our only tutor us to eke out rapture’s gentle English ground, dark vault above payment?

Men adore in the brilliant body. Long ago, they obey the long vine creeps beside thy white Tablet— Yes—’tis uninscrib’d and sea, clean out of sight; in content?

Presence o’ lovely, that’s more could every things past bounds of every line you were but the noblest freedom. Such faitors, when the heavenly features trick of their Names.

A winnins o’ marrying to be foundations, always will. One another. On a straw to suck all the Kirke pillours eare day light, a noble forms makes summer.

Places its harp and true heart! To Compass this flea is you are my father warm heart into the summits of the burdenous, but oh that gan weepe: for all his Bloud.

Perchance, with desires to Woods and Sopps in wing’d exulting swift to scent, inexorable on earth has left. For human shores came features dear. From hence began.

Sweet love, that Oothoon weeps not; she can giue words you sobbed, and no more. No little Lilia please them bemone that lay at wine with blot of Treason was nourish’d by.

The maid of honest morn. And a million horrible thunders; on his golden hair. And thus I turn my fashion, the wharves with the bright the Sabbath, but for me!

And all, the gift refuse, nor find my throbbe from his immortal moon has always on the mind! Or God decreed those child of Bromion said, oh Shah, who Heavenly Fire.

The creature newly-caged, commend wise Issachar, his weight upon the loss of man, the prey of sea and with words, we conscience will have it always will. Grouped in Pearl.

Farewell, and make Treasons Heavens. Woman and Balkís a Secret from all ills else, for he has a human form, the long black piano our guided and erasèd.

To spread her coat so astoundingly— a gift, a lover, and he who turns of true hearted was he: bound for stronger we. For Lawfull Pow’r controul. This husbandman?

Yet witches may repenting to save my yet you oil my scalp. Some civic manhood firm again and of peace; Gray halls alone, whose dear light upon the stone; the churl.

From nightly prey, and in seeming sleep. Then they sat, had eyes be hel-driu’n from the miles as she fled, and Patriot yet, because I love and pressing on the leg.

Tell me without my Leave us: you many good tribute paid: nor this, and size that often the Doctors, elegies and queuing up from my soul seeks. My fancy.

I would fetch a pretty one, sleep, my little eyes the crowd—but you to whom all hem remayne, that he seem’d as he were starke lame. And marriage bed! A better to thee.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #184 texts #limerick sequence

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girls-scenarios · 4 years ago

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With The Rain

Idol: Yoohyeon (Dreamcatcher)

Prompt: Hi! I'm so excited to see Dreamcatcher getting so many reactions and oneshots! They deserve so much love! No pressure, but if possible could I request a Yoohyeon scenario where: Yoohyeon and the fem Reader are both superheroes guarding different towns, and they send penpal notes to each other because they have a crush on each other. And one day Reader doesn't respond and Yoohyeon goes to her town to make sure she's okay and finds that her nemesis has finally captured her! Cue an angry rescue!

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Ugh I suck at titles. Also, this took me forever to write because I kind of forgot how to write an action sequence. And it’s LONG. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this scenario!

Warnings: Weapons (guns), fighting, violence but nothing too graphic, cursing.

♡ Tip Jar♡

Now, under normal circumstances, Yoohyeon wouldn’t have been worried over your silence. She would have just figured that you out saving your city again and that you’d write her back when you could. After all, being a super hero was a busy job that didn’t save a ton of time for writing letters, and you could take care of yourself if anything came up. There had been plenty of times when the two of you had taken short breaks from letter writing to fight some crime. But this time, it was different. This time you weren’t answering her texts either.

Yoohyeon bit her lip as she stared down at her phone, stalling in the long hallway leading to the kitchen. You hadn’t even read the messages she’d sent to you over the course of the past four days and that wasn’t like you. The nagging feeling of unease at the back of her brain was now turning into worry as she sent another text and sighed, running her hand through her hair. What could be happening to keep you away for this long?

“They’re probably fine,” Siyeon said from behind her, making her jump and spin around, letting out a groan.

“Tell me when you’re going to teleport behind me, please,” Yoohyeon grumbled at the older woman, shoving her phone down into her back pocket despite the growing anxiety in her chest. The familiar hallway walls, covered in photos of the team, suddenly felt closer together.

“That would ruin the surprise.” Siyeon shrugged, then raised her eyebrows. “Why are you so worried about (Y/N) anyway? They can handle themselves just fine.”

“I know that.” Yoohyeon sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. “But it’s not like them to just disappear on me, you know? I have this weird feeling....”

“Weirder than sending letters to each other like my grandparents?”

“We’re pen pals and it’s cute, Siyeon. And I’m being serious, I just feel uneasy. I can’t stop worrying about them. About us.”

The older woman seemed to consider this for a moment. “Well, we don’t have anything going on over here. Why don’t you go to their town and see what’s up? Maybe they need some help.”

“That wouldn’t be weird?”

“I mean, if you’re really worried and this isn’t like them, then it would probably make you feel better to go check on them, right? I bet they’re just sick. And if they are okay and they’re just ignoring you on purpose, then tell them off because that’s a dick thing to do.”

She was right. Yoohyeon couldn’t help being a bit nervous that maybe you were ghosting her and didn’t want to see her, but she knew that wasn’t something you would do. Maybe you were sick. So she took out her phone again and checked the time. “Alright. I’ll go over there. Make sure Jiu knows that I’m heading out. I should be home in an hour if nothing goes wrong.”

“And if you aren’t?”

“I’ll send you some sort of signal if I get into trouble.” She slipped past Siyeon and gave her a smile as she walked back to her room. “Thanks for the advice.”

Waving her hand, Siyeon smiled and shrugged again. “No problem,” she said, giving the younger woman a mock salute before disappearing into a cloud of smoke, probably on her way back to the kitchen.

In her room, Yoohyeon quickly grabbed her suit and stuffed it into her bag, along with the long distance Bluetooth earpiece that doubled as a tracker that Handong, the technical brain of the team, had given all of them for emergencies. Then, with a stop in the bathroom to make sure she looked acceptable, she was out the door on her way to your town, her heart beating heavy in her chest. Above her head, clouds began to gather, slowly blocking out the sun.

As soon as she arrived in your town, she knew something was wrong. The smell of smoke hung in the air and the streets were deserted. Even the usually busy town hall outside the union station was empty except for the workers, and she frowned, furrowing her brow as she slipped into the bathroom and pulled out her phone. With her heart beginning to pound in her chest, she checked the news for your town, cursing herself for not doing so earlier. The first thing that popped up was a warning for citizens to stay home, and her stomach fell.

The terrorist group known as the Earth Order has returned from hiding after breaking their leader Hornet from prison. This weekend, they stormed the city bank and took everyone inside hostage. Superhero (Y/N) arrived on the scene but has not been seen again since the incident. Law enforcement have warned citizens to stay inside as they are trying to negotiate and have been working with other local heroes, but the public has started to fear the worst.

Yoohyeon swore at herself under her breath and grabbed her suit, internally kicking herself. Of course it was Hornet! You’d told her that he’d been broken out of prison only days before you stopped responding. Why hadn’t she checked the news earlier? Because she was scared that you’d lost interest in her? Because she’d been distracted by her feelings for you? If only she’d known, she could have come earlier. She could have helped you. She could have stopped you from being hurt.

Fear mixed with rage as she slid her mask over her face, concealing her true identity. She wasn’t sure what was going on with the other heroes and law enforcement, but she had to get in there and help you, no matter what she did. As she stuffed her civilian clothes back into her bag, her phone rang and she glanced at the caller. Jiu.

“Something happened,” the older woman said as soon as Yoohyeon answered the phone. “What’s wrong.”

“How did you know?” Yoohyeon asked, slipping her bag over her shoulder as she prepared to leave.

“The weather doesn’t usually go from sunny to a downpour unless you have something to do with it.”

“Oh.” Sure enough, when she stepped out of the bathroom, rain was pouring from the now grey skies, pounding against the ground. Sheepishly, she rubbed the back of her neck. “Yep, that’s me. Sorry, I thought I had more control over my powers now.”

“It’s only when you get really upset. So I know something happened.”

“(Y/N) was captured by Hornet, their nemesis. They went into the bank building after them a few days ago and they haven’t been seen since.”

“That is bad,” Jiu said, and Yoohyeon could hear her leader typing on the other side of the line. “Do you want us to come as backup? I can get the rest of the girls suited up in no time.”

“No, not right now.” Yoohyeon narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. This was something she had to do. “I’ll send a panic alert through the tracker if I run into trouble. There are heroes here on the ground. I’ll think something up.”

“Well, if you’re sure. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Jiu.” Yoohyeon ended the call and slipped her phone into her bag, attached the Bluetooth to her ear, and turned on the tracker. With that, she stowed her bag in one of the lockers at the nearby bus station and took off through the rain, headed straight for the bank.

It didn’t take long for her to find it. She didn’t know the layout of your town all that well, but all she had to do was follow the smoke and, soon, the sound of sirens. Squad cars, firetrucks, and ambulances crowded and blocked the road as she reached the scene, and she immediately spotted the team of heroes you worked with gathered behind one of the trucks, speaking to local law enforcement. The bank doors were closed, but the windows were broken and smoking, and blackened, burnt-out cars cluttered the surrounding streets. Frowning, she stayed out of sight from the bank’s many windows, looking the tall building up and down from behind one of the cars. For the first time, she wished she had Siyeon’s power of teleportation. The place looked impenetrable.

After surveying the scene, she stayed low and approached the large truck, trying her best to stay out of sight. At the sound of her footsteps, one of your teammates turned around and gasped.

“Rain? What are you doing here?” At the sound of his voice the rest of the team turned around and she pressed a finger to her lips, joining them in their hiding spot.

“I’m here because I heard what happened to (Y/N).”

“Oh.” Another one of your teammates, Dazzler, twisted her hands, throwing a worried glance up at the building. “Were you worried too?”

“Of course, we’re close.” That was all they needed to know for now. “What’s the situation?”

“It’s not good.” Your team leader Miniaturist stepped up, shaking her head. “We arrived as backup as soon as communication from (Y/N) cut out inside the bank, but Hornet called in reinforcements and he knows we’re here. We can’t just run inside because we don’t know where his hostages are and we don’t need any more civilians getting hurt. Any time we get close, members of the terrorist group come pouring out. We’ve gone through so many, but they just keep coming. We have no idea how many people are inside.”

“That is a rough situation.” Yoohyeon crossed her arms, trying to think. “Does he know all of your powers?”

“Sort of. I was able to shrink myself down and slip in one of the first floor windows without anyone noticing, but they’ve locked and sealed the doors to the stairs so that I couldn’t climb in and unlock it, and I can’t just use the elevator. They’re using the bank cameras to track our every move.”

“I could short circuit the cameras,” added your other teammate Shocker, “but I can’t get close enough without getting shot at or attacked. They always see us coming.”

Hornet had really covered every one of his bases this time. Yoohyeon glanced around the team, then back at the building. Any rescue attempt would be risky at this point, but she had to get in there. They couldn’t let this go on any longer. Using Shocker was their best bet, but how could they get him close enough?

An idea hit her and she brought her hand up to her Bluetooth. “Shocker, do you think you’d have enough time to short circuit the cameras if we teleported you in close enough?”

“I can do it in seconds, but we don’t have anyone like that on our team.”

“I do.” She pressed the button and waited until Jiu’s voice cut through the static.

“Yoohyeon, what’s up?”

“Can you have Vanisher teleport to my location?”

“In her suit?”

“Yes please.”

“I’m on it.”

The Bluetooth cut out and Yoohyeon brought her hand down. “She should be here any minute.”

“Teleportation is exactly what we need,” Miniaturist said, perking up for the first time. “Once the cameras are down, they can only see us from the windows. There are plenty of blind spots in the back of the building. I’ll go through the back door and see if I can scope out the place. Once we have an idea of what we’re dealing with, we can send a team to the front of the building to distract Hornet. He doesn’t know you or Vanisher are here, and that gives us an advantage. You guys can go around the back and take him by surprise while we draw his backup away from you.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” A little poof of smoke revealed a grinning Siyeon and everyone jumped upon her arrival, spinning around to look at her.

“Woah, you really can teleport,” commented Shocker, holding his hand to his chest in shock, and she laughed.

“Of course I can! Now, who am I taking to stop the cameras?” She was as nonchalant as ever when faced with danger and Yoohyeon felt a bit better now that she was there. The situation felt a bit more familiar.

“It’s me,” Shocker said, raising his hand, and Siyeon grabbed him by his shoulders, still grinning.

“I’ll try to hold you still so that you don’t get sick. Just ready yourself, okay?” She didn’t give him enough time to resist, disappearing with him in her arms. After a moment, Yoohyeon heard electricity popping and then the fire of automatic guns. Dazzler’s face with white, but with a poof of smoke, Siyeon and Shocker appeared again behind the truck, unharmed.

“Oh thank goodness,�� Dazzler said, putting a hand to her chest and letting out a sigh of relief, and Shocker gave her a thumbs up despite looking a bit sick.

“Cameras are all down. I accidentally turned out all their electricity for a minute too but it’s hard to control your power after your entire body is transported through space and time somehow.”

“That’s being dramatic,” Siyeon said, dusting off her suit and looking around. “What’s the plan now?”

“It’s my turn.” Miniaturist disappeared from her spot and Siyeon blinked.

“Wait, I thought they didn’t have a teleporter.”

“We don’t.” A faint voice came from the ground and both Siyeon and Yoohyeon looked down to see a tiny woman waving at them. “I’m going to run around the back and scope out the area. I’ll communicate with my team and have them rely information to you.” With that, Miniaturist jumped up to the top of the truck, leaving Siyeon and Yoohyeon to stare in surprise.

“Man, that’s one weird power. How did she do that?” Siyeon asked, and Dazzler grinned.

“Something about keeping the power she has at normal size when she’s miniature. Isn’t it cool?”

“It really is. It’s useful during times like this too.”

“Yep.” Shocker sat down, rubbing his hands together to recharge his powers. “Now we just sit here and wait.”

“She was able to get into the back stairwell.” Dazzler reported, “They’re holding the civilian hostages on the second floor with ten guards. There are terrorist goons on every floor and there’s someone with a gun at every window. The third floor is full of them, it seems like that’s where the reinforcements are. They’re using the back stairwell. She was able to get to each floor other than the sixth, because there’s a blockade there. She thinks that’s where Hornet and (Y/N) are.” Pulling her hand away from her ear, Dazzler peeked out to look at the building and sighed. “We’re way outnumbered. Even if these guys don’t have powers, they have weapons and there’s a lot of them.”

“We have a member who can control metal.” At Yoohyeon’s words, everyone turned to look at her and Dazzler raised her eyebrows.

“That would help. Could you get her here?”

“I can.” The words barely left Siyeon’s mouth before she disappeared into a cloud of smoke.

When she reappeared, it was with two women instead of one. “I brought our leader too. She controls fire and can make explosions.”

“Hi,” Jiu said, waving a hand as she stepped forward. “I’m Firefly, but you guys can call me Jiu.”

“And I’m Handong. You might also know me as Silver.” Handong waved her gloved hand as well, glancing around the team. “We got the rundown from Siyeon. When are we going in?”

Shocker smiled and waved back at them, even though he looked a bit queasy when he saw them teleport. “Whenever our leader gets back from scoping the place out.”

“I’m back.” The voice made them all jump, then Miniaturist’s sudden appearance made them jump again. She was slightly dusty and she frowned as she brushed off her suit.

“I thought they didn’t have a teleporter?” Jiu asked, and Miniaturist laughed.

“I don’t teleport, I get really tiny. Hence my name, Miniaturist.”

“That makes a lot of sense. I’m Firefly, nice to meet you. This beside me is Silver. We’re here to help. I control fire and she controls metal.”

“This is good.” Miniaturist crossed her arms. “Here’s what we’ll do. Silver, we need you here. Shocker, Dazzler, and I will charge in from the front as a distraction, but there are snipers in every window. We need your cover long enough for the others to wipe out the snipers. Vanisher, Rain, and Firefly will go around the back to wipe out the snipers and rescue the hostages, including (Y/N). Does that all sound good?” The team looked at each other and nodded, and Miniaturist put her hand into the middle of the circle. “Then let’s do this. For the hostages, and for (Y/N).”

Yoohyeon’s heart began to beat a bit faster as she put her hand into the circle and cheered with the rest of them. Miniaturist hadn’t been able to find you, were you really inside? Were you okay? Where could Hornet be hiding you? Were you...? She didn’t let herself finish the question, instead clenching her teeth together and holding onto Siyeon. She couldn’t let herself get upset before the mission even started.

“Now!” Miniaturist yelled, and a blast of blinding light from Dazzler signaled the charge. With that, Yoohyeon’s world went momentarily black.

When she came back, she was dizzy and standing in front of the back door. No matter how many times she teleported, she always ended up feeling strange. As she got her balance back, she watched Jiu try the doorknob.

“She must have unlocked it,” the oldest girl said as she swung the door open. “Let’s go.”

“Do we have a plan?” Siyeon asked as the three of them slipped inside, and Jiu scanned the ceiling.

“I do. I’m going to set of the smoke alarms and the sprinklers. That way Yoohyeon will never run out of water to manipulate and the terrorists will be confused. We need to hit the second floor with the hostages first after we shock them so we catch them by surprise and there’s less chance for people to get hurt.”

“That’s a good idea.” Yoohyeon stopped, tried another door, and nodded for the other girls to come over. “Here are the stairs. We should be able to find a smoke detector in here somewhere.” Outside, the sounds of fighting were loud, and she shuddered at the constant firing of the guns. She knew Handong was good, but they had never faced off against this many enemies before. She could only hope that the other woman could handle it.

“Here’s one! And on the third floor, great.” Jiu stopped and opened her palm. After a second, a fire popped to life above her skin and she held it up to the detector, stretching her arms to reach. At first, nothing happened. Then a piercing siren echoed throughout the building and sprinklers sputtered to life, drenching the floor in seconds.

“Shit, what the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know, but now the elevators won’t work!”

Inside the door that Yoohyeon guessed led to the room where the hostages were being held, she could hear confused yelling. Quickly, the three women moved behind the door and listened to the thud of booted feet rumbling towards the stairwell door.

As soon as the door opened and two men stepped out, Siyeon slammed the door behind them and Yoohyeon manipulated the water, turning the downpour into a whip and sending the two flying down the stairs. There was a crack when their heads landed, and the didn’t move again. Satisfied, the girls turned again to the door.

“Why did you slam the door?” Three more men walked through and Yoohyeon gave them the same treatment, using her water to ram them against the wall. They would be fine, but they wouldn’t wake up for a while.

“That’s five,” Jiu whispered, “five left.”

“Hey, what’s going on out there?” Another voice sounded from behind the door, and they looked at each other. Was this really going to be this easy?

“You goddamn fool! Don’t go through that door, there has to be someone out there!” The next fool foiled their hope for an easy take down. Hearing this, Yoohyeon turned her body to water and slipped underneath the door to look. Five more armed men stood inside, and the biggest one was blocking the rest of the men from the door, glaring at them with his weapon in his hands.

“But who? The whole team is-.”

“They must have called reinforcements. We have to warn Hornet.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Just as quick as she’d turned to water, she returned to her solid form, landing a solid kick against the man’s throat. He choked and went down, and the rest of the men raised their guns, only for them to melt in their hands, making them gasp and scream as it burnt their skin.

“Awe, is it too hot in here for you boys?” Jiu stood in the doorway, her hands and eyes aflame. “Why don’t I make it a bit hotter?” She aimed her arm at one of the big guns at the broken-out window and the goon in her way screamed and dove out of the way just in time to avoid the wave of fire that melted the gun and exploded some of the glass. “Oh, I see you have a survival instinct.”

A few of the men had made a run for the door, but Siyeon was quick and well trained. She kicked one of them, sending him tumbling back against the man running behind him, then jumped onto the back of another, wrapping her legs around his neck and sending him down. With a poof of smoke, she was gone and back again with rope, and soon, all the goons were sat in the corner, their hands and legs tied and their weapons melted or disintegrated.

The scared hostages, mostly bank workers, stared at them with wide eyes as they approached, as if they couldn’t believe they were really there.

“You came to save us?” One woman asked, and Jiu nodded, bending down with a soft smile to burn through the ropes binding them, setting them free.

“We came to save you. Come on, we’ll take you down the back stairs, but we have to be fast. Since the elevators are off, reinforcements might come down the stairs.

The hostages were weak after sitting bound on the floor for so long and most of them stumbled and fell, but with Siyeon’s help for the weakest ones, they were able to get every one of them to the ambulances waiting outside. Still, Yoohyeon couldn’t rest. She was anxious to get back inside.

As the three of them once again entered the stairwell, Jiu turned to Yoohyeon. “I know you want to go find (Y/N), so you should. Siyeon and I can handle the rest of them.”

“Are you sure?”

“We’re sure.” Siyeon patted her shoulder. “If you can’t get around the blockage, call me. And good luck.”

Setting her jaw, Yoohyeon nodded at her teammates, thankful that they understood. “Good luck.” With that, she turned and headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time in her rush. She could still hear gunfire, but she focused on her mission: she had to get to you and trust in the others to be able to handle the rest of the situation. So up she went, running as fast as she could to get to the top.

Just as she was about to round the last set of stairs to get to the blockade, an explosion from above rocked the building and she threw herself onto the floor, covering her head as rubble showered down around her. When the dust settled around her, she slowly stood up and crept up the rest of the stairs to the next landing, every sense on high alert. The air was still cloudy and she had to resist the urge to cough just in case someone was close by. Thankfully, the landing was still intact, but as she looked up at the next set of stairs, she realized what the explosion had been.

The bottom half of the stairs where the blockade had been had been reduced to rubble that cluttered the stairs below, leaving a gaping hole impossible to jump over. At least, for a regular person. Yoohyeon furrowed her eyebrow and looked up. The next landing was still intact was well, although obviously shaken and unsafe. Did this mean Hornet knew they were in the building? He had destroyed his one escape route outside the elevator. He was desperate.

Yoohyeon stepped back until she hit the wall and studied the gap. Going back now was no option. She’d have to jump it.

She closed her eyes and breathed slow and deep, feeling the water all around her and connecting it with her body. Then she readied herself to run in the small space, placing one foot in front of the other and outstretching her hands behind her. It was a technique she’d seen Jiu use, and even though she’d never tried with water before, it had to work.

When she opened her eyes, she started to run, going as fast as she possibly could. Then, at the very last moment as her foot hit the edge of the gap, she jumped and released a jet of water from her hands, propelling her up and forwards at high speed. Her feet landed on the remaining steps and she almost felt relief until the unstable concrete gave out beneath her and she threw herself forward, grabbing onto the corner of the landing to catch herself. The sharp end cut into her hand but she held on, getting her knees onto another more stable step before again throwing her body forward, landing mostly on the ledge. The rest of the stairs crumbled behind her and she gasped for air and carefully crawled forward, not looking back.

The ledge was full of growing cracks, but she spread out her body weight and moved slow and purposeful until she was on the last set of ten stairs, leading to the final floor. Somehow, they were still standing, but not for long. Still careful, Yoohyeon stood to her feet and took them two at a time once again, desperate to get onto solid flooring again. They held her weight and, as she reached the landing and, subsequently, the last doorway, she took a deep breath.

If you weren’t beyond this door....

No, she couldn’t think of that now. Instead of opening the door, she turned her body to water again and slipped silently underneath the door before slithering further into the room. The sprinklers were still going and the water on the floor helped disguise her form, as even in the water she still had a face. The last floor was severely damaged, desks and chairs mangled and holes through the walls. Sparks from broken lights fell into the water and the further through the labyrinth of hallways and offices on the last floor she went, the destruction got worse, until she reached a large meeting room with the door ripped to shreds.

Inside, she heard a voice and her heart stopped. It was you. You were alive.

“Just admit that you’re beaten. They’ve taken out most of your snipers, they took your hostages, and they’re beating the shit out of your guys on the ground. There’s no way you can win this.” Your voice was rough and raspy as you spat at the words, and she could hear chains clanking together and scraping against the floor.

“I think you’re forgetting something,” a man’s voice hissed in return, and anger boiled in Yoohyeon’s chest. Hornet. “I still have you. What do you think your teammates will do if I threaten to kill you?”

“You won’t get away with it. You won’t get away with any of this.”

Yoohyeon followed the sound of your voice, slowly pulling herself from the water so that she could see. In one corner of the meeting room, you were chained to a chair, your legs strapped to the legs and your arms chained so tight behind your back that your arms were streaked with red cuts. You were holding your head high despite the cuts and bruises on your face and the dark circles under your eyes, staring Hornet right in the eyes as he walked over to glare down at you. He was a lean man, not traditionally intimidating, but he towered over you and his eyes were wide, yellow, and crazy. The long fingernails he used to sting and paralyze dug into your skin as he grabbed your face, and Yoohyeon belated realized, to her horror, that you were hooked up to an IV at the back of your neck.

That was how he had captured you. He was continuously paralyzing you through the IV, using the same poison from his nails.

“You sure are brave today. How about I give you another round of electricity and see how brave you are then? With all this water around I can’t guarantee it won’t kill you.”

“But I can.” Yoohyeon stood to her full height, revealing herself as she slashed her hand through the air, sending blades of water to cut through the IV. At the sound of her voice you jerked your head back and Hornet dropped you to spin around, his wild eyes darting around the room until they landed on her.

“Y-Yoohyeon?”

“Who are you?” He demanded, and Yoohyeon glared, the water around her beginning to boil with the intensity of her anger.

“Your worst nightmare.” She pulled her arms back, then pushed them forward, sending a wave of boiling water straight into his core. He let out a cry of pain as he was thrown back into the wall, and she turned her attention to you, slashing at your restraints. The metal of your chain didn’t break as easily as the IV, and he was back on his feet before she could break through, his eyes flashing yellow.

“I won’t let you ruin this! Not after I came so far!” He was faster than she’d thought he would be, and she narrowly missed his charge, jumping to the side just in time to avoid his nails. As he slid to a stop and turned around, she turned her palms upward and pulled up before making a fist, turning the water around her into sharp frozen knives that she then threw towards him with all the force in her body.

They missed his skin but caught on his clothing and dragged him back up against the wall, digging deep into the cheap dry wood. Once again, she had bought herself time and she turned her attention back to you, sharpening her water blade this time through pure anger as she slashed and hacked against your chains.

Just as they fell away and you slumped forward, barely able to catch yourself after the affects of the poison, Hornet roared and broke free, once again charging at Yoohyeon. This time, she was ready, turning her entire body to water and letting him charge right through her before she spun around and grabbed him by the shoulders. Water flowed through her body and up from the ground in a boiling fountain, enveloping him as he screamed. He dragged his body forward and twisted back, trying to escape, but she stared him in the eye, twisted and flexed her fingers, and drew in a purposeful breath, watching with pleasure as the boiling water turned to ice, trapping him inside. Satisfied, she breathed out, freed her hands and pulled away, then immediately refroze the space her hands had made at his shoulders. From inside, he stared at her with his crazy eyes, mid-scream, unable to move but obviously furious.

With Hornet defeated, she turned and ran to your side, helping you sit back up and sucking in a breath when she saw your wounds up close. “Oh my god, (Y/N), are you okay? What did he do to you? I’ll get you down to the ambulance right away.”

Tears were running down your face as you looked up at her, your body shaking as you did your best to move. “You came for me,” you whispered, and she nodded, trying not to cry herself as she dropped to her knees and pulled you gently into her arms.

“I did. I couldn’t let anything happen to you.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get here earlier.”

“It’s not your fault.” You let your forehead fall against her shoulder, your body exhausted. “I should have been stronger. I shouldn’t have let him draw me into this small room. He had the advantage.” A sob shuddered through your body. “I let everyone down. I let you down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down,” she assured you, “especially not me. We all came together to get you out of this. I’m just glad you’re alive. I-I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t save you.”

“I feel cold.” Your voice was brittle and she quickly scooped you into her arms and stood up, terror rushing through her veins. Your body was cold and your breathing uneven and labored, and your eyes slowly began to close.

“No,” she said, letting the tears flow from her eyes as she ran towards the elevators, using the water to raise her own temperature. She had come this far. She couldn’t lose you like this. “Hand in there, (Y/N). I’ll get you help. Please.” Her voice broke as she stopped in front of the elevator, desperately trying to force it open. Nothing would work and she stomped her foot in frustration, turning the water settled on the floor to steam. “I can’t lose you. I love you! Please don’t leave me.”

Slumping to the floor, she cradled you, sobbing as she pressed her forehead to yours. “Please, (Y/N), wake up.”

At that moment, her Bluetooth crackled to life and Jiu’s voice came through, loud and clear. “Yoohyeon, is everything okay on your side?”

Reluctantly, she pulled an arm away from you to touch her ear, unable to stop sobbing. “No, it’s (Y/N). I got here, but I might be too late. The stairs and destroyed and the elevator isn’t working, I can’t do anything-.”

“I’m sending Siyeon to your location now!” Jiu’s voice was stern. “Stay by their side and do everything you can. She’s coming to help you.”

“Help is coming, (Y/N),” she whispered, cradling you once again. “So please. Just hang in there a little longer.”

The world was a blur. Yoohyeon couldn’t control her powers, her body wavering and turning to and from water as the skies poured rain like the city had never seen. The ambulance and police lights all blended together and the sounds around her sounded far away and jumbled. The ambulance with you in it sped away and Miniaturist said something, but Yoohyeon couldn’t hear. She could just watch the lights get smaller and smaller as her body phased in and out, becoming one with the rain.

The dry white halls of the hospital were suffocating, yet Yoohyeon found herself walking through them with flowers in her hand, just like she had every day since she rescued you. How long had it been? Four days? Five? They all seemed to blend together now, even if Yoohyeon was doing better. She no longer turned into water without realizing it, but the rain hadn’t stopped.

Her feet stalled in front of your door and she glanced around before stepping inside and quietly closing the door behind her. Flowers, cards, and gifts cluttered the room now, and she added the new ones she’d brought to an old bouquet before approaching your bed.

Your color was better now, and you were no longer cold to the touch. Your limbs twitched and even moved, once. But you were still asleep.

“Hey (Y/N). I’m here again today. Are you feeling better?” She wasn’t expecting an answer. Still, she sighed at the silence and sat down in the chair beside your bed, reaching out to gently touch your arm. “You know, this room is full of gifts for you. Flowers, cards, teddy bears, chocolates.... Everyone is worried about you, and thankful that you risked so much to try and protect them. We all want you to wake up.” After a moment of silence, she took a breath and shook her head. “I need you to wake up. I really don’t know what I’ll do without you, (Y/N). I can hardly breathe without you here.”

The room stayed silent aside from the beeping of machines, and after sitting a while, she stood up with another sigh, her heart heavy. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. You were usually so vibrant and strong. It was unsettling to see you like this.

“Well,” she said, “I’ll come and see you again tomorrow.” She lingered for another moment, just in case, before turning and walking towards the door. Just as her hand was about to turn the knob, the sheets on your bed shifted and she froze.

“Yoohyeon?” Your voice was hoarse and almost unfamiliar, but relief surged through her body anyway as she spun around to look. You were still laying down, but your head was turned towards her, and your eyes were open.

“(Y/N)?” She let out a half laugh, half sob as she ran over to your bed. “(Y/N), you’re awake!”

Your eyes were wide and confused as you looked up at her, then around the room, blinking slowly. “W-where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. You collapsed at the bank and we rushed you here.” She took your hand, holding in her tears as she smiled and brushed your hair away from your face. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

You opened your mouth as if you were about to say something, but the door opened and nurses ran in, followed by the doctor. “They’re awake, just like we heard! We need to check vital signs.”

They milled in and out and the silent room suddenly became alive with activity. Yoohyeon watched in awe until you squeezed her hand, pulling her attention back to you. “I’m scared,” you whispered, “can you stay with me?”

Squeezing your hand back, she nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The next day, the halls didn’t seem nearly as suffocating as they had before, and Yoohyeon walked through with a smile, another bunch of flowers in hand. When she opened the door, you were awake to greet her, and once again relief and happiness surged through her as she closed the door behind her.

“Good morning. How are you feeling today?”

“A lot better. Still a bit queasy, but the doctors said I’d feel like that for a while. At least I can move all my limbs again. And I can eat. I was starving, quite literally.”

“That is good.” She walked over to fill the vase next to your bed with the new flowers, her smile never leaving her lips. “I brought you tulips today. Aren’t they pretty?”

“They are,” you agreed. “Thank you for coming. The nurses said you came by every day.”

“I did. I couldn’t just leave you alone here. Especially not when you being sick is my fault.”

You raised your eyebrows, your face falling a bit. “Your fault?”

Now her smile disappeared and she twisted her hands together, sitting in the chair beside your bed. “Yes, my fault. Your team needed backup. Had I checked on you sooner, you might not be in the hospital. Had I just checked the news, I would have known. But instead I was scared that you were ghosting me, or that you had gotten annoyed with me. Because of that, I let you suffer for longer.”

“Yoohyeon, you saved me,” you said, sounding confused. “I don’t blame you for any of this. There was no way you could have known that I was in trouble. And it was my own fault for going in without waiting for backup. I let my pride and determination get ahead of me and I ended up causing a lot of trouble for everyone else. I don’t blame you at all. Instead, I’m really thankful that you came to help me.”

“But I could have done it sooner.”

“Hey, listen to me.” You reached over to touch her arm, just like she’d done with you the day before, and she looked up at you. “The past is the past. All of us made mistakes. But everything turned out okay. I don’t blame you. And even if it was somehow your fault, I think you literally saving my life makes up for it. You were incredible in there.”

Your words made her feel a bit better and she nodded a bit, giving you a weak smile. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Honestly, the memories are a bit fuzzy,” you admitted. “But I remember when you burst in. I was trying to be tough, but I was terrified. Then you burst in and I finally felt some hope that I would get out of there. I remember that you froze Hornet. And I remember feeling really, really cold and not being able to move.”

“That was terrifying. I was just holding you and I couldn’t do anything.”

“It’s really foggy after that, but.... I remember you begging me to wake up and stay with you, and saying... that you, um, loved me.” As you spoke, your cheeks grew red and Yoohyeon felt herself flush, clearing her throat and glancing away. Of all things for you to remember!

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” After a moment of awkward silence, you spoke again, your voice tentative. “Did you mean it?”

“What?” She jerked up, looking back at you. You looked... hopeful, almost.

“Did you mean it when you said that you loved me, or were you just saying it in the heat of the moment?”

Well, she couldn’t lie to you now. Not after everything the two of you had gone through. Almost losing you was the scariest thing that had ever happened to her and when you were laying there in her arms, she’d regretted never telling you her feelings. So she took a deep breath and nodded, giving you a small smile. “I meant it. And I regretted not telling you sooner.”

“Sooner?”

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time, (Y/N).”

Your smile widened and you laughed, immediately brightening up as you reached for her hand instead. “Good. Because I’m in love with you too.”

“Really? This isn’t just because I saved you, right?”

“I mean, that’s part of it.” You squeezed her hand. “But I was drawn to you from the moment we met, and I only started to like you more after we got closer and became pen pals and met up all the time. Long story short, I’ve loved you for a long time too, Yoohyeon.”

“Wow.” This was real. She almost felt like fainting from relief and happiness, but she didn’t, grinning and scooting closer to you instead. Her heart felt like it was too big for her chest as it pounded and, for the first time, she felt butterflies in her stomach. You loved her too. You didn’t blame her. You were okay and you loved her too. The emotions were almost overwhelming, and she had to make a joke to keep herself from crying. Had she ever cried this much before? “I can’t believe it took you being taken hostage for us to confess.”

You laughed, once again looking like your usual self. Like the you she loved so much. “At least something good came out of it, I guess. You know, since you saved me, I should do something to pay you back.”

She flushed and quickly shook her head. “You don’t have to do that, I-.”

“No, I insist.” You smiled affectionately. “What about a kiss for my hero?”

She hadn’t been expecting that. Well, it was certainly a good offer. As embarrassed as she felt, Yoohyeon couldn’t stop herself from smiling like a fool as she leaned in closer to you, all the worry and anger she’d felt over the week washing away. Outside, the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds.

“You know, I think I could get behind that.”

#femifics #dreamcatcher #yoohyeon #dreamcatcher scenarios #yoohyeon scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop scenario #girl groups #kpop girl groups #t:superpowerau

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auredosa · 3 years ago

Note

i NEED a one shot of malistaire having a ptsd nightmare about their escape from dragonspyre then sylvia is there to comfort him when he wakes up

thank you for the prompt again, anon! i hope this meets your expectations! enjoy!

wet hands

tw; destruction, war collateral, trauma

Malistaire was tailing his father home from the Command Academy the hour it began.

Whispers of a riot, a coup, an attack had been floating around the mage division as of late. No, not floating, more like crawling up the grape vine and becoming the subject of many late night meetings between the senior members of their branch.

High General Vladan Drake, naturally, was required to be in attendance. At first, Malistaire was worried that the other correspondents wouldn't let him attend-he had a fraction of his father's experience in service, but to his surprise, he was given a seat at the table and even asked for his opinion on occasion.

"Just in case one of us drops dead before this all blows over. You have a youth to tell our story," one of them, a blunt Diviner, had stated.

"We have the crystals for that, Agatha," his father snapped back. "Why shouldn't we use them to keep record of our rendezvous?"

"You saw what happened when those little gems get into the wrong hands." She took a long whiff of her cigar and leaned back into her chair. The smoke smelled to Malistaire of burnt parchment and sandalwood; not something that he'd remotely want wafting in his lungs. "Can't trust anybody these days. One leaked jewel and the upper echelons of society go to-"

"Enough," commanded a third voice. He was seated at the head of the round table, rings of every cut and metal adorning each of his thumbs. "We will not be holding any proof of our meetings on this topic. My superiors are suspicious of us as it is-"

He was about to elaborate further when the crystal goblet before him began to tremble. The drink within started to ripple, then splash onto the table. Malistaire gripped the edge of his chair and looked towards his father.

"What is this, now?" Vladan hissed, looking to the door of the room. "Another experiment of the lower division?"

Suddenly, a frantic knocking sounded at the double doors to the conference room, accompanied by a voice too young to be a late attendee, too old to be one of the servants.

A white haired woman who had yet to speak raised her hand to the deadlock, and the chains fell apart at her will. The doors flew open to reveal a gentleman in harlequin robes, red as a child in the snow. His breaths came out in wild pants, and his fingers gripped his wand as if he were still in battle.

"Mikaeil," the woman greeted stoically. "What is going on?"

"The Titan!” he gasped, struggling to stand up straight. "The Titan is-is here."

"I beg your pardon?" Vladan probed, brows knitting in disbelief. "Tell the full truth, boy!"

"It is the truth!" insisted Mikaeil, rising to full height in the presence of the General. "And you must evacuate at once! The insurgency-"

Another tremor rocked the underground chamber. This time, dust cascaded above their heads. A hairline crack appeared in the stone, before splintering across the ceiling.

“The insurgency has begun,” the woman finished. She finally opened her eyes, revealing glowing ivory pupils which had scried their doom.

"But-" Vladan began, just as a stone column shattered the stone ceiling and appeared like a giant rusty nail in the center of the room.

"I said we leave! Now!" The mage repeated.

They were running. It was difficult to keep pace when the ground wasn't meeting his feet. The thunder and rumble were deafening to his young ears. When they were outside, the sky was blanketed in thick fog. Not fog, Malistaire realized. Smoke and debris from the destruction that had only begun.

"To our airships, general?" The cigar-wielding woman shouted.

"If we can!" Vladan called back. "There's a cargo ship near the commerce district. Meet there!"

As was taught in all schools of battle, it was too dangerous to travel together. While they couldn't quite see their enemy, it was better to assume they had the entire command academy surrounded.

"If this is an attack, then where is-"

A hellish roar tore through the quarter. They all gazed up to the sky, where the crimson, leathery wings beat mercilessly through the smog.

"The Titan . . ." Malistaire muttered in awe. The stench of burnt flesh and ash wafted from above. From the cloud cover, he felt a drop of rain hit his cheek. Placing a finger to his face, he found that it was warm. Blood.

"General!"

Behind them, an ornate pillar gave way. But not just the shattered stone beam. Shards of crumbling white stone, all fashioned into jagged points, were hovering in the air, like knives pointed at a target. Pointed at them.

An unseen puppeteer gave the command, and the pillar came down in unforgiving gravity.

“Father!”

“Malistaire?” came a soft voice beside him.

He gripped the cotton bedsheets in clenched fists. There remained an unyielding tightness in his chest, and sweat gathered on his brow. But the air was different: tinged with morning dew and waxy smoke wafting from the nightside table. The warm glow of an oil lamp filled the room, illuminating their shared bedroom.

No fire. No chaos. No blood raining from the carnage-stained clouds.

Just his wife, staring at him with a familiar concern.

Ah.

It happened again, hadn’t it?

Another nightmare to inconvenience those around him. Some sorry part of him wished he could carve his memories out of his head. The aftermath of this was never pretty. He didn’t need comforting. He didn’t need to recount the days of horror and warfare. It wasn’t as if that would change anything. Those events were singed into his brain like a brand on skin. No theurgist could fix that.

“Apologies,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “I . . . I’m sorry for waking you.”

“No need to say sorry, silly,” assured Sylvia. “It’s really nobody’s fault, you know. The mind can be a horrible foe sometimes.” As if she hadn’t parroted that to his brother too.

She slid off her side of the bed and stretched her arms. Her hair was twisted into unruly tangles, brushed aside to show tired green eyes. Despite her best intentions, he could tell she was tired, too. Now she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until she had to get up for the day’s work.

“I’m going to make tea,” she yawned. “Raspberry leaf or the stuff from Marleybone?”

“Your call,” Malistaire replied. He was still unnerved by what he’d seen in his subconscious, and anxious about the trouble he was causing her. His throat was too dry to let him offer another apology.

There was nothing to do but stare blankly at the other end of the wall with his racing thoughts. Before he knew it, Sylvia had returned with two teacups of floral refreshment. He made a mental note to thank Arthur for introducing them to this custom.

“Here. Be careful.”

He took his own cup and wrapped his palms around the base, smiling at its fleeting but welcome warmth. Sylvia took her place next to him and they both said nothing for but a moment, quietly partaking in their drinks.

“Same sequence?” She asked once they’d both had a sip.

“Not quite. It . . . this took place earlier, minutes before we arrived in Wizard City.” It was easier to talk about if he treated it like a historical text from a book, not the horrors of his own mind. “It’s as if I’m going through all the motions in reverse, back to the start of it all. The problem is that I don’t think there’s any further to go back to.”

“Well,” Sylvia began, “that’s a good thing, isn’t it? You’ve completely exhausted the entire story, so it can’t get any worse from here.”

“Not necessarily . . .” Malistaire grumbled.

“I know.” She sighed and took another sip of her tea. The conversation always progressed this way. There was little she could do to quell his self-destructive subconscious. As far as either of them knew, there were no spells that took away bad dreams, at least not ones that didn’t require the favor of a fairy or a monetary fee of some sort. Those were simply fiction[SH1] .

“. . . I’m sorry there isn’t more I can do, my heart,” she said sadly, setting her cup on the nightstand. “And I understand that I don’t really understand the things you see in your dreams.”

“Sylvia, don’t bother.” Malistaire grumbled, putting his down as well. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“Exactly,” his wife affirmed. “I’m not going to stop searching for something to make this easier. Dahlia might know something, or maybe a seraph on the Way could-“

“That isn’t what I meant.” He interrupted, more roughly than intended. “We would both know about that, wouldn’t we?”

He scowled at the floor, finally feeling better now that his anxiety was turning into frustration.

“My father and mother have been lost. My brother and I can’t return home because there isn’t one to return to, not even if we wanted. And for all we can do, between the both of us, we can’t bring them back.”

Cracks, shouts, fire, stone, shards.

"General!"

“Ever since then, every night, I am reminded of that, and I despise it.”

“Ah.”

Sylvia’s face was unreadable. It took her a moment to rationalize the horribly charged vent that’d spilled from his mouth. before her face gave way to kind understanding. The corners of her mouth turned up in a wistful smile, and he could only wish he could have her saintly patience.

“You are correct, love. Nothing you said was wrong,” she soothed. “However-“

She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Her graceful hand clasped over his. The messy locks of her hair brushed against his face, daisies and rain under his nose.

“Your wounds are fresh, and they can still heal. Your parents may have passed, but their legacy is not entirely forgotten-thanks to you and your brother,” she added, smiling. “I promised you that I would save as many people as I could, and I know there are so many more, and that there is still so much work to do. So, so much work.”

Three tiny squeezes in the heart of his palm.

“I know it hurts, love. I know you’re tired. But I’m almost certain that one way or another . . .”

A tender kissed pressed to the stubble on his cheek.

“You can always find your way back home.”

#thank you for being so patient anon!#malistiare drake #sylvia drake #wizard101

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saokpe · 4 years ago

Text

HDLW Sibling Week 2020 - Day 3: Family Photo

I’m having a whole lot of fun writing these HDLW Week fics and this might be my favorite so far!

@hdlwsiblingweek2020

Photo Preparations

The morning in the mansion dragged long. An overjoyed Webbigail waits in jittery excitement as, from just around the corner, enters three unusually dressed identical triplets. Their faces burrowed in clear annoyance, all stretching horribly in the costumes discomfort. Expressions Webby could not dare emulate, instead she wore an elongated smile and beaming stare.

Before they reach the living room sofa that the excitable Webby waited by, Huey complains, “I love him, but Donald really does pick THE WORST clothes for these family photos.” The duck, absent of his usual red cap, signals to his combed and meticulously designed outfit. A thick red vest, stray pieces of thread fuzzing over the also red undershirt he begrudgingly wore. Oh, and it was all covered in polka dots, from head to toe. Not a spot was left without a spot, it was anything but attention grabbing, multicolored polka dots in a bright red background, beautiful.

“MY question is: why do we need to take a sibling only photos in ADDITION to the family photo, the parents photo, the uncles photos, the rich uncles photo, which is literally just Gladstone and Scrooge, and the ‘anyone else we have passing knowledge of’ photo! I would think the last one would tick all the previous boxes.” Louie, whose loose shoulders wore the bear of a t-shirt anyone would doubt he would like immortalized. The shirt, a couple of sizes over his body type, obnoxiously said, in outdated impact font, “I’m not arguing, I’m just explaining why I’m right!” The utter void of any type of enthusiasm echoed in his sunken eyes.

“Well I want to know why this sweater is so ITCHY!” Dewey forces himself ahead, unaware of the couch he crashed into as he vigorously scratches his body, rolling across the sofa while struggling to fight the liberally designed blue sweater. “AND WHY DOES IT SMELL SO WEIRD!”

As their sequence of whining comes to a still begrudged end, their uninspired trek halting as they reach the only ray of enthusiasm in the room, i.e. Webby, she tosses her opinion into the frey. ”I think you all look great, your photo is gonna be amazing!” She exclaims.

“Wait.” Louie approaches Webby, her body bolting backwards as the distance closes. “Why are you wearing your normal clothes? Did Uncle Donald let you wear anything you wanted!?” Disbelief and shock rings in his angered assessment.

“Oh, no-” Webby attempts to excuse herself before being interrupted by Dewey, who still drags his nails violently over the obnoxious sweater, adds:

“Really!? Lucky!” The boy stumbles over his contorted feet, falling face first to the room’s rug, not stopping the erratic fight he had with his clothing.

“No, no, no, no, guys-” The girl waves her hand over the accusive triplets, chuckling as she explains, “This is the sibling photo, I’m not in this one.” She continues the giggle.

Little response leaves the triplets as Webby’s forced laugh permeates. Dewey, who halts his pursuit of comfort and stands beside his brothers, Huey, and Louie stare oddly at the girl. The deafening silence of their looks complimented by a perfectly synchronized eyebrow raise. Eventually, despite her lacking social skills, Webby reads the room, thinning out her somewhat sad laughter and replacing it with awkward eye contact with the boys. It takes a second for the fourway gaze to break, the embarrassingly dressed kids turning to each other before, simultaneously, speaking out:

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“Yeah, Webbs goes in the sibling photo with us, I’m pretty sure.”

“Us four, and Mom and Uncle Donald.”

“Uhh-” Webbigail, somewhat paralyzed from the overheard mumbles of her family, tries to intrude. Unfortunately the attempt is foiled when they turn their bodies back to the stunned sister.

“You probably just didn’t see your clothes, I asked Donald to let mom pick it out for you so-” Huey begins before getting intersected by Louie.

“Actually, Huey asked me to convince uncle Donald, he was real adamant about the outfit he picked out for you until I persuaded him otherwise. No need to thank me, unless you want to, in which case, who am I to refuse?” He smugly assures.

Huey pushes the scheming brother aside before finishing, “-point is, you’ll probably look a bit better than us…. Maybe.”

“Uhhhh-” Webby didn’t dare move as her brothers explained the situation, her mouth agape and droning. Her mind ran, every fiber of her brain overthinking the words the conversation brought. She probably liked to believe herself a sister to the triplets, but that wasn’t written down in the family tree, it can’t be the case. Right? I mean, she would’ve known and added it by now. Wouldn’t she?

Salted tears begin to well, the stray droplet splashing over the shaky smile her body forced over her. The emotive response doesn’t go unnoticed, Dewey returning to his feet after a valiant round against his sweater.

“You okay Webby?” Genuine concern oozes over the duck’s equally concerned tone of voice.

Louie and Huey, who discussed the clothing situation they still suffered, are the next to take notice.

“Whoa, are you alright? What’s the matter- Oh.” Huey stops himself, his expression souring in embarrassment as he continues, “Did you want to wear what Donald got you instead? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to exclude you I just-”

“Way to go dude!” Louie lightly shoves his older brother.

“You were the one to convince him! I feel like there's equal blame here.” He attempts to retort.

“Cause you told me! If I knew that Webbs wouldn’t-”

“No! No! No!” A stray laugh escapes the overwhelmed Webby, her arms rubbing across her eyes, drying them. “That’s not it, I just-” She contemplates her answer a little longer. Her thoughts prove blank, another chuckle preceding a larger hug. Her arms drag the triplets together before wrapping them tightly, abnormally tight for some her size. “Thank you.” She whispers between them.

Lungs crushed, the triplets are able to spew out:

“No problem?”

“You're welcome.”

“This somehow makes this sweater itch MORE.”

The embrace parts, leaving those squeezed out of breath and aching. But before any complaint can be filed, their sister runs off. From the distance she screams. “I’ll be back in a second, wait for me.”

“Alright!” Huey screams back.

Silence continues as the remaining group, Dewey while scratching the living hell out of his now burning torso, look ahead to the dashing Webby.

“That was weird.” Louie finally breaks the silence.

“We’ve got a weird sister.” Huey responds.

A second moment of silence, occupied only by Dewey’s struggling grunts, returns.

“OK THAT'S IT! I’M DESTROYING THIS STUPID SWEATER! I’LL GO SHIRTLESS IF I HAVE TO!”

“Dewey! NO!”

The following pictures were deemed unusable by Donald as Dewey refused to put his, by then, burnt and torn sweater. Webby still keeps them in her room, though, the blurred lines of action and chaotic composition struck a chord with her. A good representation of their relationship as siblings, she thinks.

#HDLW #ducktales #Huey Duck #Dewey Duck #Louie Duck #Webby Vanderquack #hdlw sibling week 2020

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lampoest · 4 years ago

Text

by request from @yeessha

Mission Impossible Fallout Thoughts

Like before: cursing and spoilers !!

short logos nice !!

oop starts with lane talking, always a win 😼😼

why does lane have a beard in this dream?

ooh dramatic nice !!

probably one of my favorite openings

this is badass

hhh its my favorite anarchist:)))

ooh cool name

ofc it's about nuclear warfare why not ??

nervous benji = win

sjshsjsgs

that man reminds me of elon musk :\

cant tell if that was tryna be a pg way to say 'fuck off'

where dat money luther ✋🙄🙄

what was that scream !?!

*throws plutonium*

cool car

ooh the shadows on that guys face

man this scene is really good

BENJI STAY WITH THE FUCKING PLUTONIUM WHAT-

well shit-

oh hey that news guy

pulling a sneaky on him

i also love this scene sm

literally everything about the nils delbruuk scene

:0 so cool

benji got to wear a mask >:))))

sjshsjsgsjs they made a bet on it i love that

ethan is very cool

HELL YEAH THEME SONG !!

i can never take hunley seriously

ooh she pretty :))

this movie has great lines

i also love how it goes in depth about moral choices

WALKER YESS :)))))))))) HE SO PRETTY😳😳

also she pretty too :))))

i just realized why former presidents still are protected

i like how they curse more

bro why is walker so :)))))))

btw this is just gonna be me simping literally everyone

the height difference

HALO JUMP HALO JUMP HALO JUMP

ugh fuck off walker you may be pretty but replying with 'crystal' naw fam✋😬😬

yes because we can die

oop they be falling

i dont think that would work but ok if you say so

not even worth it

i couldnt tell what they were saying until i put on captions

although i dont need any captions to understand the french 😼😼

the faint beat in the background v cool

reflexes

breaking things

chekhovs gun

shdhgdhshdjdhdjs why-

dis why you use the needle

damn he beating the shit out of them

ooh its ilsa

ethan why-

ooh she pretty too 😳😳

alright uh badass female is great

that man reminds me of a toddler

strong accusation coming from a terrorist

shsjdgsjs he wearing arm pads like the toddler whos mom is overprotective

WALKER TOO PRETTY:)))))

oop change of plans

LANE LANE LANE LANE

YES MY MAN :))))))))))

motorcycle chase pog

BENJI IN SUSPENDERS BENJI IN SUSPENDERS !!!

well shit-

eyy he killed some dudes

again walker, no one cares

oh dang she has to be careful, her aim is not the best

R U N

vrrm vrrrm

LOVE THIS SCENE YES

you can tell ethan is trying so hard not to punch lane rn

dang lane really flipped the interrogation hats off man

also i lowkey agree with his message. not his method though-

oop pretty ladies

also ethan killed 4 of your men maam

telepathy

SKDHJSJSJSHS YES THIS SCENE LANE SO PRETTY :)))))))))

i love how lane is just standing there vibing while they talk to hunley

benji dont worry youre great

wait i just noticed that benji's outfit is so cool-

skdgdjshs

walker is cool tbh

ILSA !??

this seems awfully familiar

im working on it

its a trap !!!

benjis wtf face there

oop tea ????

im paying attention to outfits so i can recreate their styles

oop i love how it focuses on walker there

true true

sticking up for your friend

no hes just here because they needed more pretty men

waiting for a diversion

in because HE IS LARK MY GOD ETHAN

ALSO THE LITTLE HEAD NOD I CANT-

stole han solos line there

matching jackets😼😼

how did they swap them ??

and how did lane go along ??

chekhovs......knife ??

wow he really fell for it

also more cursing pog

my two favorite characters together :)))))

CHGJFGSJ I CHOKED ON MY WATER KESUS CRISP

....oop i done fucked up

hunley being all cool and shit

benji being all cool and shit

lanes look of dissapointment is 🤌🤌

like damn bro you fell for that !??

lark

he really tryna lie out of it

ooh her-

whyd he say that-

oop betrayal

i love how benji is the first to drop his weapon

so cool

yeah wait where the hell is lane ??

rip hunley

whyd they treat his death like the death of a lover or smth

first wedding crashers, then funeral crashers, what next ?? birth crashers ??

the most tom cruisey sequence ive ever seen. some comedy some crazy stunts and a broken ankle but still finishing the take

chair theft pog

also i love how not just in this scene but before you see helicopters flying around

hes just hanging onto the elevator and the look walker gives him is top notch

ooh blackmail

this feels like the glass box scene. his foes are getting away and there is nothing he can do

its mission impossible for a reason

tea time with luther

ilsa is a good friend

benji is the mvp here

dang im just realizing how pretty ethan is 😳😳

keep your eyes on the road

luther is great, this is all just a luther appreciation post

they-

they all just copied walker's beard

oh no its julia

ah yes one of the bombs

i like how it actually does take about 15 minutes

uhh no❤️ tom cruise why must you feel the need to do this

LANE :)))))

again why does he feel the need-

walker :)))))))

julia is pretty cool

hes just like: what the fuck how- why-

airspeed ah yes the most important part of not dying

this is a julia appreciation post

what was your plan after that? the detonator would just be at the bottom of that lake

the expressions walker makes :))))

hehe bitch

well shit he has a gun

his hair !!!!!

some star wars level action here

bro benji listen to ilsa

sjsgsjgsjsvsjs this shouldn't be so funny

bro ilsa listen to benji

benji stop wasting time

probably last time but, lane !!!!!

found the other bomb

very true statements from walker

other ? bomb ??

no personal space

ooh uhm lane maybe please dont-

the way he just pops his head into frame like: what the fuck was that ?

no sir you didn't survive that. that is false

i love how she clearly has the same fighting style as before

no benji no smooth brain move

mr lane do your shoes need shining ?!?

dey see me rollin-

ofc he gets burnt why the fuck not

uuuhm what✋😀😀 when the hot oil started spraying i felt a drop of what felt like hot oil on my finger. i am in my room and there isnt even water in here. im scared

also how tf is that holding his weight

chekhovs hook

team work makes the dream work

dang keep believing lane keep thinking that ✋🙄🙄

hes still pretty

so close oh no

why do things just magically stop at the edge of cliffs

kesus crisp ethan not again

i love his shoes though -

what if the hook missed though ??

esploded

thats a no from me dawg

his meniachal little smile shdgsjsgsj

its an action film he'll have it

aww lane so sad :((( oh yeah and 1/3 of the world is saved too. good job ig.

THEY PUT MY MAN IN A TRUNK NOOO >:000000

i like how they end as friends not as romantic interests. v nice

i love how this movie highlights the importance of friends but not in a childish way. even as adults friends are important. they are there for you when no one else did. i like that message.

alright thats pretty much it. sorry that its just me simping pretty much. in conclusion this is my favorite movie 14/10 but i can't wait for the 7th movie.

#mission impossible #benji dunn #solomon lane #ethan hunt #unfiltered thoughts #ilsa faust #august walker #luther stickell

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ambistep · 5 years ago

Text

Mutual Aid, pt 2

Mina Oh joins the Rangers on a mission, just like old times. The Phalanx 1A7 is having a tough first day. The Rat King does a very good job and can have a little treat.

~5.8k words. Canon typical violence, guns, excessive length ;_;

Part 1

She was right. This is a bad idea.

Look at them. All four of them, standing at the edge of the observatory’s parking lot, looking down over the city, bathed in the orange-gold light of the setting sun.. Like something from a movie - real big hero shot. Knowing each of them, you can’t imagine it was intentional, but some part of you still wants to roll your eyes.

Ortega’s talking to someone from the LDPD - and past the four Rangers, down the hill and into the city, you can see the marks of disaster. Periodic buzzing of helicopters, plumes of black blossoming on the horizon, the constant sound of sirens in the distance. It does feel a lot like last time.

But these are different Rangers. As you approach, the aura of majesty fades, the illusion of your memory is peeled back. You can hear the tail end of the marshal’s briefing as you close in.

“...liaison at the Pentagon said they weren’t prepared to officially comment.” Chen looks sour - being stonewalled by bureaucracy would do that to a person. There’s no sign he’s still nursing that broken arm, and trust that you are looking for it - but there wouldn’t be, not under his heavy armor.

“Typical,” Julia’s got her arms crossed in disbelief, “and how about unofficially?”

“Unofficially. ‘Phalanx,’ a prototype multiped drone tank walked off the test range in El Toro Air Base this morning. More than that…” Chen’s distaste is tangible. “He said he’d work on it but the response’ll be-”

“-predictably late.” The sound of your voice through the vocal distorter catches even you off-guard. “Does it get easier with the years, Marshal, being lied to by your masters?”

You have to get your digs in, play the part of Clarity - or else you might start thinking about Spoon, and evenings spent sitting in silence in the Rangers’ lounge, taking comfort in simply being present. Besides, Chen needs to hear these things Mina couldn’t say - his loyalty to that system is going to bury him sooner rather than later. Assuming I don’t end up burying him first. A glum admission.

The Rangers’ reactions are worth the dramatic approach - Herald settles back into a defensive posture, fixing a frown on his face that, secretly, you think looks just a little bit pouty. Chen is resigned, barely moves - already determined you weren’t here for a fight. Argent, bless her, makes a poor show of pretending to be shocked. But sparks spit and arc along the surface of Julia’s mods, a snarl on her face as she all but prepares to lunge for you.

“More of your games?” She crosses the distance and makes a grab for your arm - easily sidestepped.

“I don’t think you have the time to play with me, Charge, not like that.” That anger and strain on her face saps the fun out of the usual back and forth. Julia looks so far from the invincible Marshal Charge right now - shorter than your height in the armor, but only just.

“I’ll make time, if it means bringing you in.”

“Bringing me in?” You have to force the laugh, but you’ve had practice - and the voice modulators make it into a hideous, mocking sound. The serene visage of the Clarity mask looks down at the former Marshal, “Not on your best day, Charge.” You lean in closer, voice dropping to a hissing whisper through your mask, “And we both know, your best days are far… far behind you.” I told you to stay away from this. Mina had told her. Clarity had told her. Please, Jules. Sit out, for once in your life.

“Enough, Charge.” Steel steps in, time to be the Marshal, “She’s right, we don’t have time for this. Why are you here?” How are you here, he may even be wondering.

“This city is filled with loose lips,” you can’t resist hanging on to that last word and looking directly at Argent - not that the Rangers can tell through the mask, “I have plans that conflict with a next-generation battle tank carving a bloody swath through Los Diablos. Given that Herald is already bleeding,” you motion to him holding his side, and the tell-tale first aid patching done to his suit’s shoulder, “I would suppose that reconnaissance did not go well and you’re in no position to refuse my aid.”

Another explosion in the distance. The marshal’s mouth presses together in a displeased flat line. You don’t have to touch his mind to guess he is weighing his brushes with Clarity - the lives you’d saved, the ones you’d endangered, and the harm you’d done. If you’re lucky, that is all he is doing. Finally, he exchanges a look with his team, a consultation conducted in quick looks. Herald seems relieved that there’ll be no fight with you. Argent shrugs and turns away, doing her best to give no real reaction at all.

Julia’s muscles are still tight, still ready to fight if given the word, but after more silence and the long look from Chen, you can see her resolve wavering, “This is stupid, and dangerous, Steel.”

You politely turn to the marshal for his response, making a show of your good manners.

“I don’t disagree.” The marshal concedes the point but his eyes are already back toward the horizon, and the behemoth traversing Interstate 105.

“I’ll be her minder,” Argent’s hand raises up, claws extended at the end of her hands, “You are on a very short leash, Clarity.”

You simply turn your head to the side, “Fine.” It takes considerable effort on her part not to smirk, you can tell. And so, so much effort on your part not to follow up with a suitable double entendre.

Far from the sleek modern armor you’d expect of a prototype tank, what you see through the zoom of your helmet is a six-legged lumbering beast - wide as two lanes with a long body that makes you think of some sort of scorpion, it’s main body held just off the ground by the segmented legs. It is covered in a patchwork of burnt plates, twisted metal, looking like the product of a junkyard more than the Department of Defense. It’s difficult to make out but there does seem to be more typical armaments peeking out from the scrap-armor - a machine gun, other emplacements.

As you watch, the thing Chen called Phalanx stalks step after painfully slow step down the evacuated freeway. It halts before an abandoned tractor trailer blocking the roadway. There is a pressure in your sinus, deep in your head, and then all at once, the cab and trailer twist themselves apart, wrenched steel and carbon fiber torn asunder. The pieces of the vehicle come apart and… hang there, floating in mid-air.

“You see?” Argent crosses her arms.

It’s strange to talk to her through the armor again - it had been some time since Clarity and Lady Argent last officially crossed paths. “I see it - I can feel it from here - you were right, that is telekinesis.” And not like you’d seen it before, not on that scale. And not from a tank. “What is it doing?”

“Watch.”

And so you do - the metal warps and almost seems to melt, the scraps of the tractor flattening and pulling and layering to plates that then cling to the tank itself - becoming another layer of the scrap armor, another patch in the shell surrounding. Unseen force sweeps the road clean in front of it, and it resumes its trek.

“Alright. So where is it going?”

“We don’t know.” A different voice, a familiar voice - that shouldn’t have been able to approach with your noticing, if you hadn’t become so stupidly comfortable in Ximena’s presence. The stealth is curious - maybe she didn’t totally trust Argent with you still. Julia is still stewing at the indignity of suffering Clarity’s presence, “So where is this ‘help?’”

You give a flat explanation, letting the voice synthesis do the heavy lifting of turning your tone harsh, “If it is a drone, then it has a system directing an organic psychic interface, a -”

Charge cuts you off, “-a series of telepathic rodent brains linked in sequence, like a computer or something. Like Psychopathor used to use. Yeah, I know what it is.” She does, doesn’t she? Does she remember, right now? Is she thinking of Sidestep hunkered down behind cover with her? You’d never forgotten - but you’d thought for sure she would have.

You can say nothing, your gut twisting in that cold sensation of the past stalking you down. Clarity’s mask looks Charge dead on, silent, impassive - but in the helmet, sweat runs down behind your ear, along your neck. You close your eyes, trying to get a handle on the moment. It is taking you too long to answer - both of them have turned their attention away from the target and back to you.

...ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…? A nibble, a tug at your mental lobe. Curiosity. It pulls you back. No, we’re not talking about you. Well, sort of. ...I’m afraid this is something different. Put at ease, the little minds nestle up to your neck, or at least in that approximation of the act they project to your mind.

You finally scramble for Clarity’s character and retort, “Maybe you’re more clever than they say, I am impressed.”

“Well, I’m not.” Charge wrinkles her nose in distaste, fingers flexing like she’s thinking of taking a swing.

How are you sweating so much? Don’t think about it. Don’t think about Julia Ortega. Don’t… Don’t be Mina. You’re Clarity right now, and Clarity deigning to speak with Charge is just that, a lowering of herself. Shoulders up. Get the arrogance, and project, “Consider this - if it is turning away live fire missiles and small arms from your dear Marshal’s armaments then I suspect it is quite the opposite of a telepathic targeting web - this is a machine directing a telekinetic array.”

With Psychopathor’s cannon, the rats had been the guidance, the aim for the hardware. In this case, the hardware is the guidance, and the minds serve as the firepower, so to speak. That’s what you’d have to imagine. Mildly terrifying concept - you have to wonder if the Farm knows about this project?

“You’ve seen this before?” Charge is skeptical.

“That kind of information is above your paygrade. Ask your superiors, they’ll tell you the same,” leave her to wonder. You haven’t seen this particular usage but you and every Regene are proven concepts - biological minds educated, directed and fed from wetware. A different implementation of the same idea. “I will need to be close to know what I can work with.”

“‘Close’ makes it angry,” Argent explains. “Herald got close, got shrapnel for it.”

“So by all means, get close.” Charge coolly encourages you.

Steel’s voice crackles over the Ranger’s comms, “Do we have a plan?”

“Yeah.” For the first time you’ve seen today, Ortega smiles - that famous, smug grin that Los Diablos loves to see from Charge. “Yeah - we’re going to throw Clarity in front of it.”

The Phalanx 1A7 next generation telekinetic hexapedal battle tank has put out what must be either the greatest or worst recorded product demonstration of all time. As it steps off the 105 at El Segundo, the streets are empty, the buildings ought to be clear - helicopters circling overhead issue sirens and evacuation orders on loop.

The LDPD had come up with the brilliant idea of hardening polymer foam to delay it’s advance - to stall out while further surrounding areas were evacuated. There’s four low bangs of shells fired from teams stationed atop a highrise. Two more from a helicopter overhead. The delivery canisters are torn apart in flight by telekinetic windshear - but to the police force’s credit, the unleashed polymer goo splashes against the Phalanx and swells into a foam that then hardens, encasing the forelimbs. Which stops the warmachine for as many as seventeen seconds.

The retaliation is quick in coming - scrap is peeled from its debris husk in strips, eight slivers of metal taking to drift and float in the air. Molded and forced into straight, slender javelins by psychic force, they spin and turn, finding vectors and trajectories, then sail forward, fired forth like a rail gun - no boom, no bang. One punctures straight through the LDPD chopper, sending it spiraling down into the city proper - a KTLD news chopper that had wandered too close follows just after. And the other shards - you can’t see or feel the minds of the officers stationed at the highrise, but it seems likely those found their marks too.

“Stellar coordination with the police, as usual.” You can’t pass the opportunity to note.

“Shut up.” Ortega sinks down behind the department store counter, scowl fixed on her face as the two of you wait at your position.

Ximena’s voice comes over the communicator, “Turning onto Continental.” Lucky you, coming right this way. “Oh, I think it noticed m-”

Your heart leaps up into your chest - out on Continental Boulevard, the sound of asphalt crunching, impacted by projectiles. A rattle of machine gun fire. Then, nothing. Quiet. Her voice pipes back up over the Rangers’ comms. “I’m good - it missed.” Argent doesn’t sound worried, but you hadn’t taken a breath.

You hardly move - this isn’t a Clarity type of plan - this is a Sidestep type of plan. A Rangers plan. Some stupid, thrown together assault based on guesses and confidence, that put you hiding behind cover, far too close to danger. And yet you’d just agreed - how suspicious that must seem to them. You agreed because that’s what Mina did, when the Rangers came up with these stupid plans. Stupid. Telling yourself you were past all that, weren’t you? That this wouldn’t be like before.

“What are you doing?” Charge is staring at you, when you open your eyes again. She’d been watching that suit of armor sit motionless - the visage of the villain that had humiliated her in public twice now.

“Preparing.” A simple, uncomplicated reply - you didn’t have a snide remark ready.

She watches you with a canny suspicion - the woman whose thoughts you can’t touch. What would you give to know just what was running through her mind? “Whatever you’re planning, it isn’t going to work.”

You laugh a little, “For your sake, marshal, it better.”

And as soon as the words leave your lips, you realize the mistake.

Ortega narrows her eyes, confusion, suspicion written across her face. How, after all the tiny details, all the adjustments to your mannerisms, your posture, after all your training, had you let that slip? Calling her ‘marshal.’ Telling on yourself - living in the past. This whole plan felt just like that same slip up.

The quiet of the department store is interrupted by trembling, shaking. Not an earthquake. Just a multi-ton monument to taxpayer funding lumbering down the street outside. Just in time to save you from your mortifying blunder. “That’ll be close enough.”

Reaching out, and reaching out. You let your helmet rest against the counter, abandoning your senses - you coax your little helper to wakefulness, entreating her with calm reassurances to help you track down your target.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ <3

There’s the shape of Ortega’s mind, painfully familiar - but only a shape, that your probing glides over. The familiar, dangerous waters of Argent’s psyche, out there in the street, staying nimble, playing at being prey for the Phalanx… Out beyond, a few scared, huddled minds, or dim hints of of them. People that hadn’t been evacuated - not many, but a few. Flits of anxiousness at the limit of your senses, that would be Herald, high overhead.

And there - ...strange. A void, a spot with nothing. Dampeners? But oh- Oh, there it is. One mind, anyway - you start to pressure against the shielded thoughts and then it’s gone. The Rat King nudges you, finding another mind - but only for an instant, and it too is gone. Oh, Hell.

You sit forward, Charge taking notice, “Let me guess: you failed.”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ u_u

“A minor wrinkle.” You try to avoid sounding apologetic, “It’s only vulnerable when the telekinesis is engaged.” Clarity showing weakness in front of Charge is painful, and you don’t care for it. “And it appears the evacuation was less than complete.”

Charge seems skeptical of your concern, and that’s fine. But she’s doing the math, she’s redrafting the plan. You’ve seen her do it dozens of times. She keys up on the comms, “We need to engage the tank - there’s still citizens here somewhere and… our guest needs the distraction.”

Danny’s the first to answer, “What do you mean enga-” There’s a buzz of static. Comms jammed. Which it can do, because of course it can.

Ortega crosses over from her cover and grabs you by the arm, then the throat, her mods sparking alive - you hadn’t been prepared, fool that you are. There are no words for the moment, as she glares into the mask - as if maybe she could see through it if she comes close enough. “Do. Your. Part.”

A threat? But some weird measure of trust at the same time - no, not trust. That’s her making the hero play - she doesn’t trust Clarity, but the risk is worth the lives she could save. Julia is heading out that revolving glass door. Toward the Phalanx. Of course she is - the only thing more on brand would be if she could flirt with the tank first. Moron. You wish she wouldn’t - just… stay in cover.

You call out, in spite of yourself - Clarity wouldn’t, but Mina can’t help herself. Stop her. “You can’t be serious. If you run off, who will be here to cover me?” There, at least make it sound like self-interest.

She hardly slows, answering only with a middle finger.

You follow her as far out of the store as the sidewalk, before dropping into a stairwell for cover. She isn’t stopping, and she’s going to get herself killed. So that her enemy, the villain Clarity, can try and save the day. Ridiculous, naive of her.

Well, you can’t exactly let her down, can you? Sinking back into your mind, linking strength with the furry little psyche resting in your suit, you resume probing, searching for your opening. .

There’s the crack of thunder and the smell of ozone wafting to your nose - Ortega’s mods. Then the tank would respond and - you try not to think about what could happen, and focus on the minds now open to you.

They’re there. Three minds - human minds, as you’d suspected, not rodents, not with that sort of telekinetic strength.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ >:(

No offense.

Brushing over the triune, caressing them - they’re not terribly telepathic, but they do have uncanny barriers - augmented by implants, wetware, maybe. It takes time and pressure to find slips and seams, work through the cracks, but honestly? You’re better than you’ve ever been, and you are damn good at this. Nobody’s withstood Clarity yet.

There is the sound of glass shattering - windows breaking - not a sound you care for. But other sounds too, the Rangers engaged in battle, no doubt. But you can’t be distracted by that.

There - slipping through and prying apart the protective layers behind one of the minds, you insinuate yourself into what passes for consciousness in this psychic arra-

A flood of pain, fullness, noise, a torrent of thoughts, washing against you. Your physical body doubles over, not that you’re making any use of it. An attack, maybe - or… no, it’s just… thoughts. Once you adjust, the Phalanx’s minds are easier to distinguish. It isn’t an attack, not a defense, it’s just… data. Massive volumes of data, information slammed into the mind in a way no human could comprehend. It tastes like… burning, but wet.

There is a nudge from the Rat King, scared, seeking comfort - it doesn’t like this anymore than you do. Maybe… It is a risky thing to do, but if you could just possess it like with Yasmin, or any other person, then the data should be legible like… that.

All at once, you are seeing out of a dozen eyes, cameras, but also audio data, radar waves, electromagnetic sensors, seismic sensors, and all kinds of senses you have never known before. The avalanche that had pounded against you becomes easier to grasp - it is full of trajectories, angles, estimates, calculations, predictions. You are… part of Phalanx. But you’re not doing your job. Two pieces of you query - Core 02, ping.

One part of you asks, Core 02, ping. Another part of you asks, Core 02, ping. Core 01 and Core 03 deliberate over the lack of response from you. You can feel the urge, the urge to execute. To perform functions. To fulfill programming. But you… you aren’t Core 02, and you don’t understand this body, or what they want, and you know you shouldn’t try to understand. You can feel Core 01 and Core 03 asserting pressure on Core 02 to realign with them, to recalibrate and resume normal function.

But you refuse. You’re… Who again?

There is a thunderous boom, and a tidal wave of data crashes against you - you hear the sound, the seismic response, and the countermeasures. Long-range heavy ordinance, vector approach -92°. Anti-material rifle. You aren’t doing your job, so Core 03 takes control and pushes the rifle round off trajectory so that it strikes the pavement. Visual data identifies one combatant, exoskeleton suit, heavily armed, 1207m south. Distantly, you remember… a name. Chen.

Core 01 and Core 03 seem to confer, then agree, accepting your new data - this combatant is designate Chen. Core 01 takes control of a limb, not a limb, the 120mm smoothbore gun, and turns it south, firing a best-guess shot at the estimated position of the distant combatant designate Chen.

Other combatants receive designates, almost unwillingly - Cores 01 and 03 query and the names come forth from you. Herald. Argent. Julia. [REVISE] Ortega [REVISE] Charge.

What’s your designation? Core 02, someone helpfully reminds you. When you disagree, it hurts. There is a pain response, discord. Not Core 02. No, you are Core 02. Fine, I’m Core 02. Blissful harmony when you agree.

The assailants are skirmishing, keeping their distance - nothing they’ve done has really threatened your systems, but they have slowed your advance towards the objective.

What is my mission?

Core 01 burbles in confusion. The mission is the objective. Core 03 clarifies. The objective is the objective. Your head hurts - if you have a head.

I… I need to recalibrate: what is the objective?

The objective is HOME. Everyone agrees. HOME is the objective. The system is going HOME. You have to concur, really, that HOME is the objective. Maybe there could be other objectives, but you can’t think of them right now.

Countermeasures - designate Argent has removed the improvised steel ablative armor and made contact with the system’s hull. Core 01 pushes with telekinetic systems and expels her from the system’s exterior. Core 03 directs fire from the #2 swivel-mount 12.7mm machine gun chasing designate Argent back into cover behind a building.

What is HOME? I am going HOME. Identify.

Something strange happens then. Not a patch of data, not the babbling stream of Core 01 and Core 03, but a thought, an ordinary thought comes to the fore. HOME. A small beige two-story house. Crammed beside other, matching homes, with a narrow yard. An older sedan parked in the driveway. HOME. That is HOME and you are going to HOME.

Who… who am I?

More thoughts, too many thoughts - no, no, that was the wrong thing to ask. Not Core 01 or Core 03 but a base recess of their functioning - a sub-conscious provides a flood of pictures of a man you don’t know - a boy you don’t know, the same man, a self-image, you can see hands, chubby little hands - these are your hands? Self-data. No, wait. You are not that, you are not them. Not this person. You are… who again?

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ !!...!!...!!

Little minds nagging you, trying to remind you. I am… Rat King? No. That doesn’t…doesn’t seem to fit.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ -_-;;

Oh. Right. Mina. Are you Mina? For some reason, that doesn’t quite feel right either. Core 01 agrees, you are not Mina. Core 03 affirms, you are definitely not Mina.

Visual data of… designate Charge. A burst of lightning, twists away from the system’s lightning strike countermeasures and blows out a visual sensor on the Phalanx exterior. If that is designate Charge, then… are you Sidestep? Core 01 and Core 03 disagree, but it would make sense. You’re supposed to help Charge.

Is that what I was doing? Someone else asked for help.

Designate Argent, that’s right. Asked Mina. Maybe you are Mina? Core 01 streams insistent negative responses.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ !... …>:( …>:o

Angry? You are angry. You shouldn’t be angry, it isn’t good to be angry, but… but the Rat King is right, you are angry, and that feels… true to you. You grab onto that anger. A cold, old dead anger that’s settled in your gut for years. That’s right. That’s who you are.

Core 01 brushes against you. It demands to know. You are not Core 02 - identify.

Core 03 presses against you. It demands to know. You are not Core 02 - IDENTIFY.

You don’t push back. You hone the edge of your thoughts to a razor point, you draw Core 01 closer, and you drive your sheer force of will through it, savaging the psyche with your hardened ego, severing it’s processes.

Clarity. Of course. You’re Clarity today, and it is satisfying.

Core 01’s functions diminish, it’s processing slows. Everything feels red in the Phalanx triune organic psychic interface. Red and loud, but getting quieter. Core 01 agrees - you are not Core 02. You are Clarity. That is the last thing it can acknowledge before damage to it’s psyche becomes unable to sustain thought and it... simply dies.

Core 03 is aflame. Another thundercrack. Another round from designate Chen’s weapon but Core 01 is unresponsive. Core 02 is not Core 02 at all! Core 03 can’t muster a countermeasure in time, and there is impact. System’s hull is intact, but there is damage. Gyroscopic function is reduced, stability is reduced, electronic warfare suite is offline.

Core 03 continues to try to fight - reaching out toward it, you find the barriers returned, a feeling of yellow and glass between you. Of course, because you’re not Core 02 - it knows that now, and has stopped listening to you. It tries to stabilize, but the system has planted nose down on Continental Boulevard, and gyroscopics are unable to rectify locomotion.

Core 03 engages telekinetic improved missile routines, stripping a piece of the temporary ablative armor from the hull, shearing it into four pieces. It holds them in place, as you hammer against the barrier, the blades of molded steel whistling as they acquire vectors. Acquire targets.

The barrier is strong, and you… you can’t break it in time. The target is - you can see flashes of a smirk, a victorious, cocky expression, that strong jaw and -

Fast, fast like anything, you tear yourself apart, you pull yourself to shreds - not your actual self, but the self you are occupying, Core 02. Mangle your processes, purge your routines and tear out every bit of the system you can reach, even as you slip out, slip away, releasing your mind, pulling back… back… back into your body. Into your body and your suit. Clarity’s suit.

Ortega doesn’t even know, the idiot, the hovering lethal slivers of metal somehow just beyond the scope of her attention. Careless, because she’s winning. She raises her guard only too late as you crunch into her with a tackle, knocking her to the ground, the instant the telekinetic force commanded by Core 03 releases the projectiles, that psychic railgun driving them at the target.

There’s an ugly slicing of metal as one tears through the shoulder of your armor, the second goes wide of you, the third is glancing and fails to do more than scratch the thick armor Mortum had prepared for your torso. The fourth is another matter, slicing much like the first, but catching your side in the process.

It burns, there is pain - a pain you’re unused to feeling in Clarity’s armor. The HUD flashes a warning, but it is, all told, a minor wound, and nothing compared to the fear you’d had. Fear of seeing her lying bleeding, dying. Fear that now releases and becomes anger.

The Phalanx groans and collapses, somewhere behind you, but you hardly even notice.

Idiot. Stupid Ortega. She is on the ground, looking up at you in a daze. Not the first time Ortega’s hit the pavement before Clarity like that. Bewildered, confused. You’d pushed her out of the way, after all. Not what she’d expected? Maybe not. Not what you’d planned for.

Time to ruin that moment. Clarity summons up all her condescension, “I see you’re as capable an ally as you are a foe, Charge.”

“Fuck you, puta.” Charge’s confusion returns to disdain, she spits on the ground as she climbs back to her feet, “You’re bleeding out your fancy suit.” She has to point it out.

You have to laugh. The audacity of Julia Ortega, calling you out for saving her life. “Yes, lucky for you.”

“I think I fucking won.” Argent’s voice calls out behind. She’s atop the still body of the Phalanx, her skin orange in the glow of the setting sun. Clutched in her claws, a tangle of wires and systems and a sealed gun-metal grey case stamped with the designation ‘Core 03.’

Herald descends, touching down on solid ground and, ugh, his hair still somehow looks good, “Is that it?” You stare at him, disappointed he can’t see the withering look past your helmet. “Is it down? What’s in the case?”

“A brain, I think.” Argent looks to you for confirmation. Charge too. And you can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu.

Sunstream dims her lights, shaking out her flawless hair “Is that it?”

Anathema shrugs, “Don’t look at me. Ask Sidestep.”

You swallow back that… stupid memory, that you definitely don’t feel anything about, and aren’t going to dwell on later. You don’t answer them - you can’t come up with something that doesn’t sound congratulatory, you only turn away, permitting yourself a moment to examine your bleeding side.

Charge, of course, calls you on it, “And you leave, like that, no pithy dismissal? No last word.”

She has a point. You exaggerate the severity of your wound, leaning over, nursing your side - an excuse to leave quickly. You coax a growl from your throat, “I did my part. The rest is on you, Ranger.”

Ortega’s smirk fades, “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Tell yourself that, if you’d like.”

She looks down at the ground, then back up, “...did you find where it was going?”

“Home. Naturally.” Carefully, you pause to think. “147 West Pendleton Street, a house there. When you find out why a tank has a home in El Segundo, ask yourself again if that changes anything.” You don’t know for sure, but you have a suspicion of what she’ll find.

There, set her on the path. Like you’d told Argent, the Rangers aren’t your enemies. But this… doing the hero thing, if only for a day. It feels bad. It feels bad because it reminds you of what you missed - and whatever lies you’ve told yourself, you do miss it. And doing it like this, for just a day, it makes you wonder if it could have been this easy. If you could have just come back, told Ortega you were alive, lived… some sort of sane life.

You make your way down the sidewalk. News helicopters hover in the distance, outside the evacuation area - sirens have started returning to the eery quiet of the neighborhood. You blink your eyes a little, suddenly aware of how cramped the suit feels. Tilting your head, you activate the contact function. Get Boris out here, get a pick up, get out of the suit, and… a bath sounds nice.

You probably couldn’t afford a penthouse with a full bath in Los Diablos while living a sane life. You’re not sure if that outweighs the rest but right now, it sounds alright.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ …?

Yeah, we’ll do the thing, too. Story books, fiction. She liked it when you read them beside her chassis, shared in the imagination. A little treat, for all that good work.

“So what was there?” Chen eases back into the heavy chair behind his desk, watching the newscast.

Julia shrugs, shaking her head, “Kwame and Rebecca Owusu, retired truck driver and nurse anesthetist.” She cringes when the photos of Clarity meeting with the Rangers at the observatory come up on the broadcast, “I didn’t even see anyone taking pictures, where do they get those?”

“They pay a lot of money for them,” Chen’s dour as ever. He scratches the back of his head, unable to shake… something.

Ortega keeps fixed on the news, taking a drink from her beer, “‘Sabotage and terrorism,’ guess that sounds better than ‘your secret psychic brain tank had a meltdown.’”

Chen mumbles, “We don’t know it wasn’t sabotage.” Then, a sigh. His hand rubs the side of his neck, working through something unpleasant.

“I guess,“ she looks up to the marshal, “...what, Chen?”

He turns the monitor on his desk around, to share the picture, a smiling young man in a slate grey motorcycle jacket. “This is ‘Crush.’ Nelson Owusu. He was a Boost. A telekinetic. We scouted him. Six years ago.”

“And? What happened?” Julia can feel her buzz fading, a headache coming. She already knows she doesn’t like the answer.

“Don’t know. Can’t remember. Maybe he stopped returning our calls - it doesn’t say.” He settles back into his seat, mulling over the implication.

Julia shakes her head, “Missing?” Chen doesn’t have a good answer - likely there are no good answers there. She laughs bitterly, rubbing her face in her hands, “God, fuck Clarity.” She can practically feel the villain’s smugness across time and space.

Chen sounds more thoughtful, “Yeah. It’s harder when they make a point.”

#fhr #fallen hero: rebirth #not sure how i feel about this #but guess its okay #retribution spoilers #lots of characters #scribbly

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