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Can you write how Canon Mari (Real World) would interact with Omari AU Mari (any interpretation) please?
á”/âżïč â±'á” á” á”á”á”á”á”á” á”âżá” â± Ëąá”â±ËĄËĄ Êłá”ᶠá”Ëąá” á”á” á”Ê°â±âżá” á”ᶠá”âżÊž á”â±á”ËĄá”Ëą. â±'á” âżá”á” ËĄâ±á”á” Ëąá”á”á”Êł â±âżá”á”Ëąá”á”á” â±âż á”Ê°á” Ê·Ê°á”ËĄá” á”á”á”Êłâ± á”á” á”Ê°â±âżá” á”âżá” á”á”Êłá”ËĄÊž á”âżá”Ê· ËąÊ°â±á” Ëąá”ÊłÊłâ±.. ïčËąá”á” :
PAIRING; MARI (RW) + OMARI AU MARI (also RW cauz y not ;3)
Genre; idk man....mostly fluff or just something wholesome !11!!!1
MARI (RW) + OMARI AU MARI(RW)!!!
i don't know much about the whole Omari Au thing so i'm jst gonna believe it's just MARI in SUNNY'S place....
MARI would probably think it's just SUNNY pretending to be her for a moment or something...
the moment she realizes that THAT'S LITERALLY HER i feel like she'd be like ''huh???? wym?????''
would def braid her hair 100%
Since (or at least i think so...) OMARI AU MARI(im just gonna call her OMARI for this cauz... ya.) is just MARI in SUNNY'S place she wouldn't speak much,,,,,
MARI would 100% basically treat OMARI like she's SUNNY
''do you want something to eat??'' "can i get you something to drink???" ''do you need help??'' an allat yadda yadda
silly thought; MARI taking OMARI to have picnics.
i feel like MARI would ask OMARI to play something on the piano or smth,,,(IF SHE CAN IDK)
if she can't then the violin.
dude MARI would def tease OMARI...
would AND WILL talk and talk and talk with OMARI 100%
if OMARI doesn't even eat properly dude oh god
MARI WILL FEED OMARI LIKE A BABY
idk why their dynamic just gives off like
this like...
'i will protect you but i'm also gonna tease you and baby you' typa shizz..
dunno why.
MARI would most likely TRY. (keyword try) to make OMARI open up more
or just talk more or smth
overall 9.5/10 dynamic and interactions
i want MARI to braid MY hair liak......
man i suck at this but who carezzzz ( i do )
daily reminder to take care of urself pook drink water EAT get rest and allat yadda yadda
ily
#omori#mari omori#omari au#sunny mentionn#ayyyayyaay#2nd requesttttt#YAYAYYAYA#omori mari#omari MARI#peakypeakiii hc's are silly#i think y'all forgetting i write for other fandoms too...#but idc OMORI is still one of my favs#dude this took WAY too long then i thought it would#omori game#MARI omori#i love mari shes so silly
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Lâutilisation de lâanglais par le personnage du Rouquin dans la scĂšne finale
Le passage du texte en anglais Ă la scĂšne finale rappelle lâunivers littĂ©raire et amĂ©ricain duquel sâest inspirĂ© KoltĂšs pour Ă©crire Sallinger. Ce monologue du Rouquin semble trĂšs proche du personnage de Holden Caulfield dans Lâattrape-cĆurs, ainsi que du personnage de Seymour Glass, particuliĂšrement dans la nouvelle Hapworth 16, 1924 (lettre que Seymour, ĂągĂ© de sept ans, Ă©crit Ă ses parents).Â
Les personnages du Rouquin et de Seymour Glass partagent tous deux une fascination pour les oiseaux. Dâailleurs, dans la nouvelle Seymour : an introduction (1959), Buddy tente de dĂ©crire son frĂšre bien aimĂ© et dĂ©sormais mort. En sâadressant au dĂ©funt, Buddy mentionne la fascination de Seymour pour les oiseaux :Â
« ...you're someone who took up birds in the first place because they fired your imagination; they fascinated you because 'they seemed of all created beings the nearest to pure spirit--those little creatures with a normal temperature of 125° » (Salinger, 1959).
à son interlocuteur-trice au bout du fil, le Rouquin évoque une anecdote métaphorique :
« LE ROUQUIN : And here I am now like an heliotrope in the glasshouse of a laboratory. Vous connaissez pas ce phĂ©nomĂšne? Un savant musicien fait de la musique prĂšs dâun champ de tournesols. Il se met du cĂŽtĂ© opposĂ© au soleil, par un jour de beau temps, et il joue de son violon, patiemment. Eh bien, on voit au bout de quelque temps les fleurs se dĂ©tourner, une Ă une, du soleil, pour ouvrir leurs pĂ©tales vers lĂ dâoĂč vient la musique » (KoltĂšs, 1995).
Ce passage semble se raccrocher explicitement Ă la littĂ©rature amĂ©ricaine et Ă lâunivers de la Beat Generation, plus particuliĂšrement au poĂšme The sunflower sutra dâAllen Ginsberg (1955) :
« I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look at the sunset over the box house hills and cry.
Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed, surrounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of machinery.
The oily water on the river mirrored the red sky, sun sank on top of final Frisco peaks, no fish in that stream, no hermit in those mounts, just ourselves rheumy-eyed and hung-over like old bums on the riverbank, tired and wily.
Look at the Sunflower, he said, there was a dead gray shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting dry on top of a pile of ancient sawdustâ
âI rushed up enchantedâit was my first sunflower, memories of Blakeâmy visionsâHarlem and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking Joes Greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black treadless tires forgotten and unretreaded, the poem of the riverbank, condoms & pots, steel knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the pastâ
and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset, crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog and smoke of olden locomotives in its eyeâ
corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face, soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sunrays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried wire spiderweb,
leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear,
Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then!
The grime was no manâs grime but death and human locomotives,
all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened railroad skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black misâry, that sooty hand or phallus or protuberance of artificial worse-than-dirtâindustrialâmodernâall that civilization spotting your crazy golden crownâ
and those blear thoughts of death and dusty loveless eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the home-pile of sand and sawdust, rubber dollar bills, skin of machinery, the guts and innards of the weeping coughing car, the empty lonely tincans with their rusty tongues alack, what more could I name, the smoked ashes of some cock cigar, the cunts of wheelbarrows and the milky breasts of cars, wornout asses out of chairs & sphincters of dynamosâall these
entangled in your mummied rootsâand you there standing before me in the sunset, all your glory in your form!
A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect excellent lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye to the new hip moon, woke up alive and excited grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden monthly breeze!
How many flies buzzed round you innocent of your grime, while you cursed the heavens of the railroad and your flower soul?
Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower? when did you look at your skin and decide you were an impotent dirty old locomotive? the ghost of a locomotive? the specter and shade of a once powerful mad American locomotive?
You were never no locomotive, Sunflower, you were a sunflower!  Â
And you Locomotive, you are a locomotive, forget me not!
So I grabbed up the skeleton thick sunflower and stuck it at my side like a scepter,
and deliver my sermon to my soul, and Jackâs soul too, and anyone whoâll listen,
âWeâre not our skin of grime, weâre not dread bleak dusty imageless locomotives, weâre golden sunflowers inside, blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our own eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision » (Ginsberg, 1955).
Pour en apprendre dâavantage sur le phĂ©nomĂšne dâhĂ©liotropisme, cliquez ici.
Finalement, dans sa thĂšse de doctorat Bernard-Marie KoltĂšs: (1977-1989) le pacte « ironique»?[1], Carine Rousselot explique un peu lâutilisation de langues Ă©trangĂšres dans lâĂ©criture de KoltĂšs :
« Les voix â le partage des voix â koltĂ©siennes en mĂȘme temps que lâidiolecte saisissant de leur auteur portent aussi le ââpittoresqueââ de la vie, son ââidiotieââ, la part qui semble rendue dâautant plus irrĂ©ductible chez le personnage koltĂ©sien, quâelle se fonde sur lâexpĂ©rience (du dĂ©sir) de lâauteur, le personnage comme ââlâunique de son espĂšceââ. Un rĂ©el qui n'est que le rĂ©el, et rien d'autre, est insignifiant, absurde, ââidiotââ, comme le dit Macbeth. Macbeth a d'ailleurs raison, sur ce point du moins : la rĂ©alitĂ© est effectivement idiote. Car, avant de signifier imbĂ©cile, idiot signifie simple, particulier, unique de son espĂšce. Telle est bien la rĂ©alitĂ©, et l'ensemble des Ă©vĂšnements qui la composent : simple, particuliĂšre, unique â idiotĂšs â, ââidioteââ. Cette idiotie de la rĂ©alitĂ© est d'ailleurs un fait reconnu depuis toujours par les mĂ©taphysiciens, qui rĂ©pĂštent que le ââsensââ du rĂ©el ne saurait se trouver ici, mais bien ailleurs. Les exemples les plus suggestifs de ââlâidiotieââ des personnages du thĂ©Ăątre de KoltĂšs se rĂ©vĂšlent dans toutes les apparitions de leurs langues maternelles. Lâanglais du Rouquin (Sallinger), la langue ouolof dâAlboury, lâallemand de LĂ©one, qui dans les premiĂšres versions sâexprimait en alsacien (Combat), lâespagnol de CĂ©cile qui meurt en quetchua, la langue dâAbad silencieux que seul Charles entend (Quai Ouest), lâarabe de Mathilde, dâAziz et de SaĂŻfi (Le Retour au dĂ©sert), lâitalien de Roberto Zucco, jusquâau talent polyglotte du Commissaire (Roberto Zucco) » (Rousselot, 2017, p.263).
 [1] Sous la direction de France Marchal-Ninosque et de Christophe Bident.
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â2 years ago, I was visiting an old lady in the South of Lebanon when there was a power cut. She very casually invited us to continue the conversation outside, as she had no generator. I was furious. I found it deeply unfair that this Lebanese woman had to suffer through 12 hours of power cut daily, and found it normal. I am an electrical engineer, I was working at Google in London at that time, but I wanted to find a solution. I met Imad, who became my co-founder, he wanted to work on solar energy with me. I figured that in Lebanon, with all the sunny days we have, it should work! This is how Sunray Energy was born in Feb 2017. We offer a system of solar generated energy to fill in the gap in the household electricity supply. We are working on a financial system which would make it as cheap or cheaper than the generator. â Rosemary will be at the MakeSense Sensecamp this weekend. Donât forget to use your code LFlove when booking to get a $10 discount! : https://ihjoz.com/events/2892-makesense-resilient-cities-sensecamp-lebanon-2018 ----- đ«đ· « CâĂ©tait il y a 2 ans. JâĂ©tais rentrĂ©e pour les vacances au Liban, Ă lâĂ©poque je travaillais Ă Londres chez Google. Je rendais visite Ă une dame au Liban Sud quand lâĂ©lectricitĂ© sâest coupĂ©e. Elle nâavait pas de gĂ©nĂ©rateur alors elle nous a invitĂ© Ă poursuivre la conversation dehors. Cela mâa mise hors de moi ! Jâai trouvĂ© ça si injuste, cette Libanaise subissait 12 heures de coupures quotidiennes sans se plaindre. En tant quâingĂ©nieure Ă©lectrique, jâai voulu trouver une solution. Jâai rencontrĂ© Imad, mon partenaire actuel: il voulait quâon travaille ensemble sur lâĂ©nergie solaire. Je me suis dit que ça devait fonctionner au Liban avec tout le soleil que nous avons.Câest ainsi quâest nĂ©e Sunray Energy en fĂ©vrier 2017. Nous proposons aux Libanais lâĂ©nergie solaire pour combler les carences en Ă©lectricitĂ©, et nous travaillons Ă la rendre plus accessible quâun abonnement Ă un gĂ©nĂ©rateur». Rosemary sera au SenseCamp de MakeSense ce week-end. Nâoubliez pas de mentionner le code LFlove pour avoir une remise de 10 dollars lorsque vous rĂ©servez! https://ihjoz.com/events/2892-makesense-resilient-cities-sensecamp-lebanon-2018 !
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