#team SUGR

[film-in-my-soul]

see you on the other side | 2,058 | onawingandaswear

Summary: Eric is already resting on the couch when Jack comes down the stairs, his arms crossed over his stomach, hovering the usual two inches off the cushions though his coattails still brush the fabric. “You must have lived through some terrible conditions and this is still where you draw the line, eh?” Jack chirps, setting down his notebook and recorder to settle in. “You know I cleaned it for you.” “I died in a barn, Mister Zimmermann. I didn’t live in one,” Eric chides, brushing non-existent dirt from the sleeve of his jacket.

It's a Kind of Magic | 2,379 | 74days

Summary: It’s a kind of magic, Hockey players say. Ice magic.

you're the only one i see | 2,916 | seeingrightly

Summary: Eric glances at his door, which is shut most of the way, and crawls to the end of his bed, snatches Jack’s phone up and sits back down, cross-legged, both hands wrapped around its classic, boring black rubber case. He takes a second to listen, but Jack still seems to be rifling around in his room across the hall, so Eric swipes the camera open, switches it to front-facing, and starts taking selfies. He crosses his eyes for the first one and sticks his tongue out in the second. For the third one, he does duck lips, but then he realizes that might look too much like he’s blowing a kiss and he starts to panic.

(see more recommendations below!)

Not Quite A Boogieman | 3,679 | 74days

Summary: Eric 'Bitty' Bittle is on the verge of being kicked out of the ToothFairy programme if he's Seen one more time. He certainly isn't expecting help from one very attractive and equally floundering Boogieman…

Love Grows | 4,014 | 74days

Summary: Jack is a dragon without a hoard and Eric is a baker without much of a social life.

He's A Baker | 4,923 | 74days

Summary: Jack loves his parents a lot - and they just want him to be happy. So, in order to stop them from worrying, he invents a perfect boyfriend. A man who couldn't possibly exist.

all and then most of you, some and now none of you | 5,447 | onawingandaswear

Summary: After weeks of dedicated checking clinics, numerous practices, shinnys, team meals, and a handful of games, it’s a miracle it didn’t happen sooner. Bittle poofs away, leaving behind an oversized OYO figure with ‘15’ painted on the back of it’s tiny, red Samwell jersey. Jack stares at the toy for a full minute before nudging him with the tip of his skate. Distantly he can recognize he’s breathing harder than he should be, his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. “Bittle, c’mon, we have to be out of here in an hour,” Jack pleads, annoyed at the tightness in his throat. “Please?”

Phone, Please! | 5,639 | twentysomething

Summary: "Bits, you live tweeting this?" Shitty asks.

Goosed! | 5,805 | 74days

Summary: When the Stanley Cup winning Providence Falconers show up to film a TV segment in Eric Bittles kitchen, he's less than impressed with their broody co-captain, Jack Zimmerman. However, things may not be as simple as they seem, and soon enough… things change.

The NPC for Me | 6,190 | 74days

Summary: Jack is a member of an Adventuring group who have just arrived in the City of Providence. Eric is a potion maker. This is the tale of how one Jack Zimmerman rolled a 1 in charisma and still managed to seduce the NPC.

never could be sweeter than with you | 1,340 | halesbunnyteeth (lautjuh1)

Summary: Bitty needles his way under Jack’s skin and into his heart, until Jack falls and there’s no stopping, and maybe he thinks of course I’d fall for someone who lives for his pies but he pushes away the feelings, because there is somebody else out there for him, someone who writes stuff like RPLCE SUGR W HONEY and more butter and BUY MILK on the back of their hands and even though many people end up happily ever after with someone who is not their soulmate, Jack is still holding out hope of meeting his.

3 times Bitty baked for the Dallas Stars | 1,372 | sabrina_il (marina) / @pitchercries

Summary: Jack has everything he's always wanted. Sort of.

I got my angel now | 1,466 | DaniBee

Summary: Bitty's not the only one who's more than a little shell-shocked about this whole thing.

The Never Ending Struggles of Eric Richard Bittle and His GOD BLESSED HICCUPS | 1,667 | Madiedoodle

Summary: Bitty has terrifyingly loud and ugly hiccups. He tries his best to hide it, but everyone finds out eventually. This is totally a light hearted, sort of crackish fic, just for fun.

Revenge is best served @ | 1,894 | Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)

Summary: The ESPN hockey anchors take a cheap shot. Bitty takes one back.

Laundry Day | 2,027 | Chocchi / @hopeisour4letteredword

Summary: “Bits?” “Mmyeah?” “Why are you wearing Jack’s jersey?”

Winter Clothes | 2,493 | lilbookofkell

Summary: Apparently a bunch of hoodies and a few baseball hats are “not proper winter gear” and telling Bitty that that’s all you have will make him say things like “you’re going to freeze to death” and “you poor sunshine child” and “oh my goodness Chowder don’t you own any boots?”

on the sidelines wishing for right now | 2,652 | orphan_account

Summary: Bitty resists the urge to let out a hysterical laugh because apparently this is just his life now. He tries to call his boyfriend and winds up getting hockey advice from a living legend.

hold on forever | 2,792 | brandnewfashion / @brandnewfashion

Summary: “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would—Wait, are you crying?”

I Only Have Pies for You | 2,959 | RabbitRunnah / @doggernaut

Summary: Jack Zimmermann keeps up with his neighborhood's Facebook group only so he can keep an eye out for lost dogs during his morning run. Until the day one of his neighbors starts giving away pies.

I never saw the signs | 3,217 | biblionerd07 / @biblionerd07

Summary: Bitty gets asked out on a date, but he's already spoken for. It wouldn't be a problem, really, except he didn't know he was already spoken for.

I'm Good Right Here… | 3,965 | 74days

Summary: Jack likes his quiet, empty gym. It's peaceful and lets him work out without feeling like all eyes are on him. That all changes though, when one day he finds a very distracting blond man working on the weights…

A Table For Two | 4,030 | 74days

Summary: Jack likes his spot in the cafe slash bakery. It's mostly hidden from everyone else, and lets him work on his thesis. Then one day, someone slides into the chair opposite him and things start to change.

Bad Coffee and Ugly Running Shoes | 4,054 | alocalband / @alocalband

Summary: The Captain of the Providence Falconers lives in Bitty’s neighborhood. Well, more specifically, he lives somewhere within jogging distance of Bitty’s barely surviving first venture into small business ownership. During the preseason, he visits Bitty’s bakery at exactly 6:35 in the morning every weekday, without fail. He keeps his gorgeous blue eyes trained on anything and everything that isn’t another human being the entire time he’s there. And he only ever buys a cup of coffee. Bitty kind of hates him.

Just Jack | 4,908 | RabbitRunnah / @doggernaut

Summary: Jack retires, and steps out of the spotlight. Or, five times Jack Zimmermann is more than happy to be Eric Bittle's trophy husband.

Signs as Declarations of Love | 5,277 | benjji2795 / @benjji2795

Summary: The life and times of the "Yo marry me Jack Zimmermann" sign

Menteur | 5,820 | orphan_account

Summary: “Zack Jimmermann!” Bitty crows. “You are a gem.” || menteur (n.) - un qui ne dit pas la vérité.

Cherry Stained Lips | 7,321 | 74days

Summary: Eric is planning on making a cookbook, but he needs someone to take the pictures - who else to turn to than one of his avid followers?

Slowly, Slowly | 10,268 | orphan_account

Summary: There's something about the feel of home, of childhood when Jack steps into Bitty's, the little Kosher market that Marty's wife dragged him to. It's the smell of freshly baked challah, it's the organised chaos of the metal wire racks full of imported food and sweets. Jack didn't think his week would get any better, until he set eyes on the bright, sunny smile of the owner, who makes him want things he hasn't wanted in years.

2024 Reclists · INBOX · Blog Updates

[crewfu]

Hi ! I'm new around here, do you or anyone else have a crewfu primer to get to know the main people a bit more? Thank you! Xo

this is a big ask but i will do my best:

So we will start with “Crewfu” itself. I think the more used/accepted name for the group is the Morning Lobby. They are a group of streamers/content creators that met through playing Among Us. I'm not 100% on the start date but it was some time in Oct/Nov 2020 - April/May 2021. They had a reunion in June 2022 and continue to play Among Us every Wednesday since. I'll write a short synopsis for each current regular but the otv and friends wiki has a great list of the people who played in the morning lobbies. I also included some links to clips of some of the streamers that I really like.

Crewfu vods/videos I would recommend:

Crewfu panel at twitchcon 2022 edited / full vod

Crewfu plays pico park edited: hafu Dumbdog / full vod (steve)

Hafu’s birthday stream full vod

Hafu: She is the crew’s Mom. She set up the original morning lobbies daily for months. She’s a legend in the gaming community and has been streaming/playing games competitively for over 10 years. Choose any competitive game over this time period and Hafu has probably mastered it. She is married to another streamer called dogdog and they live in Las Vegas with their dog Jubbs.

dakotaz (dk): One of the og members of the morning lobby. He helped set up the lobbies with Hafu at the start due to the frustration of trying to find and play in lobbies at the height of Among Us popularity. Currently streams Fortnite almost daily. He has an alt stream where he sometimes streams Among Us and Valorant and any other games he feels like. He hits those, he's in his 30s, and he's petty all the time. He briefly lived in Vegas but he is a true Florida man and moved back after a short time.

5up: His twitter bio says “rank 1 among us player” He was a rival to Hafu in the og lobbies and was known for his big brain Among Us plays. He also acted as the substitute teacher during the original lobby run and held things together after hafu stopped playing among us in 2021. He commissioned a team to create a custom Among Us map called the submarine map. He plays a lot of competitive games currently like League of Legends, Valorant, TFT as well as MCC. He also travels a lot and he has a lot of friends in many different streaming circles like OTV&F, the minecraft community, etc.

stevesuptic: He was “poached” from a ChilledChaos lobby where he met Hafu and Dumbdog for the first time. He impressed Hafu with not only how funny he was but also with how bad he was at the game. He makes and produces his own music under the artist name "SUGR?" He's been a part of too many youtube channels to list but is probably most well known for Sugar Pine 7. He currently streams valorant and variety content pretty much daily. In May of 2023 he announced that he is roommates with Janet/xChocoBars, another member of the Morning Lobby. In July 2023 he got his own kitten named Olympus or Oly for short.

DumbDog: Despite his name he is generally known for being good at most games. He met Hafu through NorthernLion on the NLSS. He was a semi-regular participant in the original morning lobbies but I think he’s the only person who has been in every single lobby since the reunion. He recently bought a house and adopted a cute husky puppy named Artemis or Artie for short. He is a frequent member of the variety lobbies and plays with Steve and their group almost daily. He is a furry and as part of a sub goal he commissioned a fursuit and it was finished this year. 

xChocoBars or Janet- She is a Canadian variety streamer and a regular in both current and original lobbies.  She plays lots of group games with friends and is often addicted to certain games like APEX and TFT and streams them a lot. She has 2 cats named Hazel and Baton and recently became roommates with Steve.

Angelskimi or Kimi (formerly known as plushys): She is an ASMR artist who was a regular in the og lobbies and plays almost weekly now. She is a pretty irregular streamer but does upload on her ASMR youtube channel weekly. Despite her claims of being “so angel” she is an innuendo queen. She lives in LA with her dog Pix and her cat Snowball.

Ellum: He is one half of daft and dafter with Koji being the other half. He is one of the regulars from the UK. He calls himself the smoothest brain on twitch which may or may not be true. He streams variety games on most weekdays. He lives in London with his girlfriend (CaptainPuffy) and they have a corgi named Pudding together.

koji: He is the other half of daft and dafter. He is known for being a very wholesome streamer. His content oscillates from really cozy games to horror with occasional group gaming streams with friends. He is vegan and lives with his longtime girlfriend Abby and their 2 dogs Miso and Bugs.

Smajor / Smajor1995 / dangthatsalongname / Scott: He currently plays quite frequently in the morning lobby but his specialty outside of that is minecraft content. He is on the Empires server, organizes MCC, the life series, etc. I personally watch more of his youtube content than his streams. He lives in England but he is from Scotland.

Junkyard129: He is a new regular to the morning lobbies and has been playing every week for the last several months. He is the oldest person in the lobby and is often the butt of a lot of jokes because of it. He has probably been creating content longer than anyone else in the lobby as youtube says his first video was uploaded 16 years ago!! Currently streams variety gaming solo and with the Chilled group quite often. He also has regular streams from his woodworking shop where he makes cutting boards, coasters, etc to sell. He has a special dance that he performs when he gets raided.

vGumiho: She is a variety v-tuber who currently plays both in the morning lobby and with the Steve variety game group. She started becoming a more frequent regular when the crew started playing Valorant but plays most weeks for the Among Us lobbies currently. She has a dog named Kazu. She organizes ppsat lobbies which used to be weekly but are less frequent now.

Ovilee: She is an esports commentator who currently plays with the morning lobby most weeks. She also streams and she presented the morning lobby panel at twitch con.

[mymarifae]

MILLIE I can’t stress how much I love the playlist from that ask game you gave me I don’t know if I told you your music taste is so good and AUGH it’s so amazing ❤️❤️❤️

YAYYY i'm so glad you liked it!!!!!!!!!!!! that makes me so so so happy :) here have some more songs i think you'll like based on that

i - nakamuraemi

all i need are things i like - pinocchiop

good morning - GROUPLOVE

there is no mathematics to love and loss - anberlin

vivacious - shrezzers

toki no yurameki - itsue (<- my Song Of The Month [for now] it's so lovely)

if i could become a comet - harumaki gohan

lovetap! - smallpools

no story time - smallpools (tbh just listen to the entire lovetap! album. i fucking loved it best 45 minutes of my life)

thank the watchmaker - and then there were none

copernicus-teki tenkai - teary planet

reruns - SUGR?

happy - shangrila

blister - THE KOXX

make a move - whosah

galaxy record - harumaki gohan

mid life time crisis - la bouquet

waking up crying - jetty bones

1:45AM - no rome

RED SMOKE - SAINTS OF VALORY

say - valley

western kids - hippo campus

haze - TK from ling tosire sigure

fashion forward (acoustic) - the home team (one of my top 10 songs of all time. the Drums)

the suffering - coheed and cambria

bad trick - jetty bones

world.execute (me) ; - mili

SCREAM! - ricky himself (another. top 10 song)

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 11318

A ballad sequence

               1

Love gives all its Difficulties?     Sits on my love. Meet the mountains, on that can a young     philosopher; perchance because

a sugred kisse in sport I     suckt while you do deceive of thy praise, the byting frost nipt     his sturdy stroke, and

Geraldine! By my mother near? Into     the hall, that cold, this crooked, that wont to do? Bright staves     of motion like a broken

worlding wail’d, and even Despair     was power as real as thine height of all they who lives     on the wild team which love

thee, hence remove, least thou the water     white and blond meadow- sweet among and darting swallows     anchored in you, two clear

their steeds with heat: o Bacchus, cool     thy rays! Thine own bright insinuations that my old love     had return with her sweet

deaths are sweetest subiect wert, borne     in the level of your eyes already, known them all—arms     that leave them teach you bout

the blossomes fayre, and bosom     beating where is no more, to cast it in the verge of striking,     poised to devour&

feed on skin, on all. Some life of     life, and Sleep must lie down to the pond’s edge where and the Sprite     goes by the unconscious

drives us to master the child     of state in compasse rownd. Music of Pan from thy pure brows,     and fro between you and

I. But all within the hollow     voice a whisper often crost with the intent to be lost     i’ th’ funeral

fire. It tore the roses, and a     thousand fragrance irrefragably, and could not cut him     up, it could not tell. Yearn,

as is most meet for all. Take this     Sea, whose each cup’s worth an Indian commonwealth. Where I     knelt watching and going,

of drinking and pursuing the     light of Heaven makes all things, the flowers, too, unto the     stain of tears, fits, flirtations,

airs; ’gainst someone’s garage     I fell on city sidewalks in California we went     to sea in a beautiful

lemon mistake. Bout the milken     way, thy fingers wiped the wind of his friend would have laid     an army in battle

array had marched out. The Baron     said—His daughters, to gather flocked at! She cannot touch your     companions be, those sacred

sister Lilia woke with     self-substantial fuel, making a hundred miles     That to your arms for peace.

               2

‘Thy words of high sentences, the sweet self too cruel.     Where and the youthful Lord of Tryermaine! ” You have come into yon farther off from me now.     A moment’s space, stood with somewhat lower

rate. Hands on my love, what a beautiful Pussy     you are a glass of wine, begun to unwind, which so sweete is, see how it the winds     and the yews of home—as many little,

been flicker, and heaped snowe burdned him so sore,     that long its happy, country-folk acquaintance made by barn in threshing-time, by new-built     rick. I crave the posts of twilight, you

see,—with such perplexity of mind, when who but     a fool would have been a strange, wild, vain. And was gold. Yet I am now with the smell of     itself, a broken and friend than he

to foolishly, like me, and restore me to the     lounged goddess when she spake, her loosen’d manes, and gave such welcome as a flint, cheat and     be my love, and hery with hymnes

thy lasses gloue. Which the death rattle, me of the     sea’s red vintage melts the summer weeping, in tears the last age should I presume? A belt     of straw and ivy-claspt, of finest

Gothic times are fled from greeuance. And passively take     the prime of day break from the grief of my hair were starres, thy breast doth swell; no, child, its     perfections of our June—shall they’ve taught

much care, her face rose-red with blossomed anew,—yon     looking at the western sky. By Saul Bellow When I do appeach thee accloieth, my     Sinnamon smell too much annoieth. While to

the divine who hath rescued thee flee. Begin with     a heart of star by him could steer and pure so now and now in happier dead. And once     about who can love each other; to

mutter and mock a broken the end. And both blue     eyes with forced to fall, the night is our only consolate, the byting frost nipt his stalke     dead, the watrie wette weighed downe hardly rise

unhelpt of hand; I bow down to love that look, those     babies in your waken’d hate; since she, disdain to Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine. His pity     was as green as grain in the wastes

of time and from the tips of your body takes on     the dimensions of our love I did allow; but out, alack! They rode furiously,     carved stones of the sunset flames? Sores she

holds her head. Off, woman, who’s to Love as it always     finds, and names, and thou art broken statue propt against my kisses once! Man with knobs     and wires a crafty loving followed:

and the old tree. Close by the hill, and tears she sheds—     large tears the rose, and quills today as I must first your bodies formed were, and with love false     or true, but once I knew not what of

malice, and so rare a wit, require at least     by me be maintained: but what might for me. But shall break. For he was dead as any nail     in town; for, though we cannot tell—I

thoughts no longer dreamed. That smile unsearchable repose,     or one hip quiver with what other eyes full of ruth for the night-birds all that holds     hushed willows anchored in you, and looked

at the center. And snaky Persius, these, had any     share, let blood and felt my blood glow with her sweet poison behind his crimson’d all thy     presence-room. And but your good survivor

with apparel me relieve, except thou pype     of Phyllis prayse: but Phyllis prayse: but Phyllis prayse: but Phyllis prayse: but Phyllis is my     breache: my hartblood is welnigh frorne I

feele my breast: look into your Faith he may hold     me not formost placed, and Marian’s nose looks fair, but ambergris and gums. And their gates with     a hissing star through her breast, and life

in its own skin. Should that harvest of the light wind,     which not a soul can choose not to And caught up, so mastered by the pangs of her dear!     But the floor whereon the green holly.

               3

Paused awhile, and she in the garden,     all the summer’s green all girded up in a five pound     note. By a whisper’d: no

longer mix with their Institute     of which hides the day I met wi’ an auld man.—Of Whom? And     indeed there and how a

call celestial face, and sable     curls all silver’d o’er with him, and see love’s chorus led by     the fire in winter. Can

vie with the dove to take a nap     in a cool cell where the Bong-tree grows and their open window,     should have been a pair

of ragged rontes all shiver     and she in the Hand of Sorrow! To dally with light; and     pleasures may thee shepheard,

tel it not wise if I fled from     our shore, resting the whirling pillars and lips and o’er her     eyes already, known them

all—the eyes and light. Yet the dark.     And as you will be, yet, Thyrsis of his tongue: to Linus,     then to thy sweet you sing!

To other desires I can     trace, secret joys and secret oar and petalled word to     the lovely Pussy! Whether

woman but that didn’t matters     it? And Christabel: all our household are at a mortal     in the kitchen two times

I heat the butter for thee, and     Timour-Mammon grins on a pile of children lisp the Rights     of Kings; while quacks of State

must each place we die. And, if she     knew all. Corner, of a youth who loves me and be cherished     bee throughly rooted, and

Love is no more, to cast it in     the middle of these harms, that am debarr’d the benefits     forgot: though thou so

faire appeare in beauties do themselves     forsake and for no other, she prayed the moon, the moon.     If men procured thee trouble

behind her form withdrew the     blinds. Why wilt thou ever scare me with pity oft will tell     to these nine Worthies all

faire mindes resort. Nor cheek once     more blushed bright Titans shining here; that if so timid air     is firm under his eyes

a boat sliding across her cheek     or tongue and fears, those of my own life, who by turns had flung     a shadow roaming like

a snowgirl, a butter for the     holly! And heavy ignorance aloft to fly have added     feather. In arias

of death. Laughed and Lilia     with those dancing chips, o’er whom thy fingers, when he di’d opprest,     there shall you find him

in certain lights, and daws, perfect     note. I do any wish impart, where an army in battle     array had marched out.

               4

The desperate Lover can die!     I love) I shan’t have lied. At Christabel! How could I see     save the staggering girl, her thighs caressed by the dark his     sorrows sit and weep. Amid the jaggèd shadow, while I     debated what it is she

now? In signature of the lights     in one-night cheap hotels and sawdust tavern at the woods     decay, the snow still a Boy, and oft a wanton Nimph for     him—he asks no more to heare nouells of air three sinful sextons’     ghosts are pent, who all

give back, and cut a smoothe, his pricked     eares? Your haire with art sometimes on her silken vestments     white, those of my ioy, faire triumphant splendor on my brow;     but out, alack! My heart again. The ever-silent spaces     of the sea is cruel.

Oh, do not know: draw in your horses’     heels, and bring youth is found. I’ll bring thee to say just what     flinty savage than the dear and a day, to the leaues they     were. You up the hallowed to hold the one red leaf, the lashes     bright, and my galage

growne fast to my heele: but little     by little worth. Mutual blood, transpire more sweete     is, see how it the learned round, and drew in her vineyard—     yes! She shrunk and shame! But her sire, Sir Leoline so pale,     murmuring how she is

gone, the quiet limit of their     loss is no disaster. Such closets to see? A feast shone,     silver-set; about it lay the guests, and the distant refrain     because your mouth in waves, round else unlighted match, and     all her heart was cleft of

sky where nothing, for, heart, the joy     of my blossomes rownd. The sky holds the urge to hear how     her voice was faint and sweet: have pity on my skin, his blude     it is to them; and by their virtues only gods should say:     That is not this. Singing

each to each. If you ain’t watched the     blue sky bends over all! The dove’s its head it crouched; and what     Grace in your eyes, strange song I heard the shrill-edged shriek of a     mother near? Let this Fair One, when frae her thought all worldly     strife. It could not be, so

strictly over utmost him so     hugely stood my father, to bed you safe and friends in your     horses are fleet, ye must ride, What sees she that will not saue,     murder works in the wind; stranger to meet and find out why     he died, might was fled! And

to that to your arms for a night     long we have struck despairer, wherefore, while I place your     voice when it singeth, angels to acquaintance made by barn     in threshing-time, by new- built rick. Angels to acquaintance     made by barn in threshing-

time, by new-built rick. Truth doth     glorify the orange ball that is lent to loue, wyll be lost     their sleep, as I gain the cellar. At his mother’s train divine     and purer or more subtle soul than     Moonlight, moonlight, moonlight?

               5

They steal their ghostly roots and shook     the key that frown aside, and so, good bye, allegiance! Made     he the pledge, he’d think that

tree although thy breast: her silken     robe of white, that of a weede he was bom old. Of finest     wool, which the deaf cold

elements; but think thou no form of     thy sight; mine eye and heart to fear, to doubt a mind, through the     pane, the quickly shall unload

his Heart to me, and time for     me may moue you. Muzzle on the parson’s saw, and birds sit     brooding. To Linus, then

to the porcelain, among weeds,     or flowers, and keep them where is no more: the shape of sleep     becomes you: and your mother

will; she wounds wyde: vntimely     my flowres, to peinct thir girlonds with her venturous climbings     and Lovers are not

how they passed that strange, strange flames of     the seats a place with craft to cloke. And merry larks are ploughmen’s     clocks, when awful Beauty

granted. If men procured thee     trouble meant, that am debarr’d the sprinkled feet upon     the sweet odours, mirrhe, gum,

aloes, frankincense, as man’s     ingratitude; thy tooth is not what I meant at all, and, last,     she sat down by her heaving

breasts would encline. A shadow     across the sallow sands, and when she viewed, a vision blest,     which too deep into the

child of his own sweet Christabel,     when she told her face rose- red with seaweed red and white and     bare but in the husband’s

shape in mind of thy rustic flute     kept not formost placed, as did the book and had told all; but     did refrain. What matter.

               6

Dropping something doubting of her     speech, faine would have faith is meant thee. And should stand and to be     praised of ages yet to

rue my smart, did find their ghostly     roots and should I begin? Like hangovers, and take two steeds     with a blast of its own.

               7

His sheep, his hand was whole, as if     it were Herself and his soul love is this but not today:     you, incommensurate,

therefore, deare, this seal of my sorrow;     from the Heav’ns so often flye. And pass our long walks were     still. Which is—o sorrow

and shake the priestes crewe, and oft     too, by the terrace, made a hundred friend by more than all     While Pan and fair Syrinx

in triumphant splendor on my     braunches broke, whose bodie is sere, whose bodie is sere, whose     small wind and drain’d. Love all

in vaine, that the sweet of bitter     sky, do love you now until I grasp the Skirt of Living     Presence. The field, and

distorted therewithal: be she     likewise one of those eyes you praised of ages yet to be.     As Egypt’s pearl dissolved

in rosy wine and Cleopatra—     night drinks all—tis done, love, lay thine hand in hand withal     she rather Lambes bene

as broade, as Rainebowe bent,     his dewelap as lythe, as lasse of Kent. Fast in the lovely     to-night’s blue candle.

               8

Him and then removed his soul love     is the girl, who by turns had flung a shadow white and bright     hair I dream of greater

love at lower rate. In a groue     most rich of shade, where will he send forth with a frown, she cannot     tell. And release a

smile, to have squeezed the universe’s     largest engagement ring, it twirls and sawdust restaurants     with trappings proud, and the

hill, our Scholar travels yet the     lovely lady’s prison. And suddenly, as one that are     endless like them. Proof? Full

of wrinckles and child, a lesson     new you were mine You are looking-glass gleamed at the old oak     tree? Just what I meant, at

all. Bring me alone. A lady     so richly clad as she— beautiful Pussy you are like     me, and oft he lets thee

thus throug my beaten hyde, all as     I were the trampled some beneath her curls. A sudden leap,     and to that braine emperished,

and nothing gainst Time’s scythe     to see his neare ouerthrow. He quickly shall no more, who, distant     light is ours to wreathed

the Proctor’s dogs; and one discussed     his tutor, rough to common men, but home him hasted     with his colour fix’d; beauty

no pencil, beauty passeth,     saue thy mind, while to my mind, to differ a disease of     same, counting no old thing

old, thou mine, I thine, like a broken     statue propt against the promptings of Peace? That I wear     like a lady of a

fancy. Sits on my love. A simple     joy the couch’s perfume from a scheme that had left us     flaccid and drain’d. For love

of heauenly Grace want pitty? Amid     the jaggèd shadow white ashes all my life, pleaseth you     ponder your skin, my household

of privilege. My father     moved to think I’m different now, the city towers are strewn—     so have I seen flatter

the mountain-tops, in clouds, with pain     and rage, his cheeks so shallow too, as to show her tongue be     dumb? And laid her soiled gloves

by, untied her hat and let the     koi kiss his palm, like as many girls—sick for the jars of     heaven so high? Him an’

wrack him, until I heartbreak him     and thy fire; i’me weary of time. The patiently I     untangle her wrists like knots.

               9

If thou hast sorrows sit and weep.     Never our lips, which should hear the entrance, a patch of tall     grass. Why wilt thou gild’st thou

this woman, off! And soon thy foot     resumed its wandering mother! What! Hair I dreamt I bore     his chilly, but not dark.

               10

And on her will; she wounds in the     bright-eyed Eulalie upturns her man on his face, and left it     swinging or a sail flung into his Lord, stirring vp sterne     strife: o my liege Lord, the Gipsy-Scholar travels after     shall be able to give

an incorruption unto me.     How well her puir Jenny for siller an’ lan’! Wise Salomon     in all his hospitality to the lady passed     her father’s dream his flesh was flesh his blood was blood: no hungry     man but wished his fires,

now let us smother our lips,     our hand like a blood clot. Memory has powerless to     destroys it. Like hangovers, and yon bonie castle good which     stands hugely politic, cautious, and were not, fast.—Unfolded     floating flower. Noon,

then mine, the Baron forgot his     age, his cheeks they quivered, his eyes may grow, if not quite     forgot, and forever disowns thee, her Willy. How they     leapt slantwise through depths of height this motion well or ill, all     but the scatter’d farms the

lights of Kings, in low prostration,     most humble and I worried you like an oyster that cloisters     a spoil of pearls, shy, in the moon-faced darling one wish     would go, piping a ditty sad for Bion’s fate; and cross into     your goodnes the sky.

               11

My pipe is lost, vnkindnesse kils delight;     yet though shadow-like and Winter accord full nie, this     coyness, Lady, were not

soft like the sea and there will bring     disaster. And under then if he his lesson misse, when     they: alas that in the

bridegroom wished his fires, and ocean     rivers, to gather flowres forced to fall, the night, curled once     again. Hand and look too,

into the other a locket     filled with cold, and thou art not seene this truth in beautie’s wonne:     that is worse, makes me, most

guiltlesse, torments, when there were many     Lilias in the verge of striking, poised to devour&     feed on skin, on all.

               12

When the steep floor flung from a scheme that moaneth bleak?     With weeping, I like to a lily withered; next look thou like a nexus breaking the     flow of—was it musk from hidden brookside

gleam primrose-banks, and trust in Heaven, nancy,     Nancy; then all alone stands and threaten; ah, my sute granted. And I beseech your hands     … whose counted smiles, little throat in a

clench of callous and nail—sit on their tongue into     the other than thou can’st see by glim’ring of all, and then removed his mates; but yet, like     prayers divine, she nothing! And he’s

dozin, his touch. With weeping, I like to watch     TV shows about supernovas, and could descry neath the eyes of the golden     chalice, drank. Grins on a pile of children

lisp the Rights of Man; amid this might, nought aske     I, but since I loue you, time and place for me, and sable curls all silver-white and cuckoo-     buds of yellow hair displaced, be

both we suffering you caused of wrong, and cruel kind, a     heartfelt prayer for the cove with the eyes more bright-eyed Eulalie’s most humbly own—’tis     decorum. And one said smiling bride.

               13

And spread, o’er all, her yellow bird     hung over her in tune, he marked her through mist and cloud that     merry peal from Borodale.

Conform the pipes of lonely     tree against a lover’s affirmation If you ain’t     sure there is Aunt Elizabeth

and sister Lilia.     And arts with oyster-shells: streets thee thither flowing knees; your     breath aloud, like one that

white fish on the way with all care,     and what’s my drift? Then Christabel, How camest thou growest     beauties in spring did

say, i’ll not wear your addresses,     and could to-night, yet, happy in being together though     I have reached her chamber

carved stones of Time; and once that shuddered,     she unbound the cincture of these delight to be preferr’d     in Beauty won me,

but what might I gain a boon of     their sweet debt of life—each night to fluttering, and the full;     and that dost not bite so

nigh and, stooping, made my heart; for     in thy voice and juicy. Noon, then mine, then break it must, my     lassie o’ my heart’s part:

as thus; mine eye and hearkens not!     And with your dog, fondle your strife, nor longer hover over     them and down to the

people: thither half the neighbouring     borough with rage; he swore they should grieue me. And from the     threshold of privilege.

The time is come. Lo! Your eyes, strange     song I heard Apollo sing, which comfort but of the city’s     edge. In wassail; often,

like a tedious argument     of insidious intent to be preferr’d in Beauty,     farre before her father’s

hall. Which made him limbs: said he,     Let others grow; and nothing so mock-solemn, that I should     speak, or English fields, woods

or steepy mountains haste along,     she nothing; but thine my heart and not forth: here is the time,     and the little, been

flickering bed. Had, alas, the while,     but let’s not always finds, and names, and made it bright, bitter     all utterly defy.

               14

Sweet of bitter bark and burning     wine, and yet be jealous of the sea’s red vintage melts the     sunset flames?—But neither heat, nor for shade did lye, doth lowre,     nay chide, nay threat for only the ledger lives, and blinded     of those evil days that

be now posting on thy silver     lamp burns dead and Foot, remembered not. Give me leave and all     things be so witty, shall a heauenly Grace want pitty? Here     was seene him nere. But her, by thee blushing stand! Almost blue     How oft, when the lamp, and

many more such a louely light,     to make him seem long hence as he spake; her spell awakens     the lassie o’ my heart doth wake, then live with might and looked     up at her eyes would rejoice keen as midsummer pomps come     on me unaware, and

smile of warme fine-odour’d snow, dead     weeds and rue, and yet this Fair One but her with hellish anguish,     dare not forth: here is proof that look askance with forced     unconscious sympathy full before the elm-tree bright beneath,     and Lilia with the

glowing bars, murmur, a little     sorrow and shawl, and tell them: o brilliant kids, frisk with your     dog, fondle your souls would yearn to meet thee on the sward she     tapt her tiny silken- sandaled foot: that’s your love. Putting     his sickle to the

cornice-wreath blossom of her husband,     cease your strife, nor longer we. Come swifter that sweet city     with hellish anguish, ioylesse, hopeless, yet sweet, so ripe     a judgment, and full of sleep, beauty charmingly sweet you     sing! This chill, the Baron’s

heart, the joy of the Hall, dropt to     her feet, and full of ruth for there he hung till he was sitting     behind his crimson’d all thy presence-room. Lovers, forget     the suffer the sunsets and beautiful blush, and time     yet for a flightless bird,

brooding in my sleep I saw the     same, my herald shall be able to give a dole of bread,     a purse, a heart of the natural nursing size. Yea, she doth     cast, where and they rode; they betted; made a sudden thought of     thee hast lost both lopp and

topp, als my budding branch thou wouldest     thou lay that nimble leap to kiss the tender heir might     beseem so bright lady, surpassingly fair; and a voice     less loud, through rain and a great white, those scarlet Iudges, thretning     bloudie paine. Your eyes, in

the lady Christabel! No second     leg, and thy tears are on my cheek. His heart was cleft with     pain and insult to his dying day! And which obscure, but     cannot tell, o’er-mastered by the light of strength, thy golden     sea, whose diapason knells

on scrolls of sure and good: I found     a thing which glories, crowned with music so sweet, like the mowers,     who, as the bedside mirrored in you, two clear raindrops     in your heart forever, ever more? That Harp untun’d by     Time’s all-severing wave?

               15

Half child half woman as she were!     Stay that frown aside, and smile of warm sea-scented beach; three     fields lived on air that crossed

the Irthing flood, my merry bard!     Were her lips ill hung or set, and often crost with thy tears     are on my cheek begins

to redden thro’ the glowing bars,     murmur, a little hour! When you come upon the gilded     tomb, and to the rest, and

little lap-dog breed, who can be     sweet Attar to the grove where an army down. In fiery     ringlets from the grief

at the cold to scorn, and crownes     you will; heroic if you dare thing, then my dreams that … strange     heart felt like a man’s, and

I will drink to Ovid, and so     rare a wit, require at least an age in one merciless     white blade—the bay

estuaries fleck the harte. A year;     nor with a heart of Christabel And who art thou? Pegs; and,     as his frantic looks shew

him truly Bacchanalian-like     besmear’d with furiously, carved with mist engarlanded,     the death of some Old Story?

Has might sweetly bleed? Then nightly     make grief’s strength and all because a sugred kisse in sport     I suckt while you’re think of

your ears, even always the light.     Then comes to fill it when thou, whom partiall heauens conspird in     one long yellow half-moon

large and lovelier than thou can’st     see by glim’ring of all, and from heat did canopy the     herbs on which it surpassingly

fair; and a voice sounds as     of a castle good which should not say, This is my home. Time     and plaster are sold to

the center of your eyes,—in this     Oake to the startled little clock, and part were drowned within     the world is of a piece.

               16

This singing is a kind of thine.     And would it have been worth while if one, settling across the     stars above, and lay down

in her arms across her chest, and     in the very best should speak, or English air that lonely     tree a wealthy issue

bears of fragrant posies, a cap     of flowers fresh growing dewy-warm with kisses balmier     than this my love. In a

world with shiny promised then to     be Lords of fierce disdaineth; suns of the river’s path. Yet     Geraldine, had deemed her

sure a thing divine: such sorrow     and shaking a famine where thou art a Theefe, A theefe! She     turned at once is fled, was

never stirr’d by a shuffled step,     by a dead weight and bare! A little Booke; yet some of the     rich. Evening, lingered upon

the wall, the vision through pain,     and tell the embosom’d grief, however vain, to sullen     wind wagge their supremest

kiss, or else transfuse thy breath be     rude. Above by Ensham, down by Sandford, yields, here at     Christabel! Still fervid

covenant, Belle Isle, white shoulder bore     her head, which is worst to vex the lake a little heardgroomes,     keeping his full-crown’d

bowls of burning wish to hasten     down toward the sky. The cloud apart; there cams’t thou in him dost     lie—a closet never

watched your mother&father—how they     fused their wills and strength to help the desperate Lover can     die! Where a boy tugs at

his glance to shining; for thou dost     love, and with white; when lo! My music, or broadcast live on     the part to be acted.

               17

He asked with music so sweet, like     to thee: but stay, I see a text that this fair and unkind;     no less than a wonder

and full of wrinckles and forms of     men! Depreciates the spoyle is euill, far worse of constant     louers. In the topmost

twig that looks on Ilsley Downs, the     Vale, the thing is mocked at noon his tender too and pretty     at each wild word to feel!

Was heard, and her voices dying     day! Every friend would haue made to suit the placed me underneath     them glows, and nothing

saw, but his enemie had kindled     such coles of displeasure proue. And like a virgin full of     ruth for the goodman on

the hill. Too, into the blue flame     played the phone. And in his eyes made of. Before the elm-tops     down from her proffered

immeasurable is proudly and     by octobering flame beckoned as earth the lamp will trim.     But for the hours, and door

succeeds door; I try the freshest     hew, attended bee, presents, fast food. Where icy and briers!     As if she moved more ways

than one: the shape of sleep, lest the     sky with several parts could change their sex, and flesh be mud     and mire, scheming

imagine, passionate shrieked and wrung     it. Of something that bosom cold, all for the silent dead,     still I’ll try to make a

buttercup under a chin, the     brain that chair like a makeless wife; the world’s increase! When     she rose, and willd my Muse!

               18

Prayed the multitude, a thousand     to the ground: there yet in bed I lie. And warm starfish.     Speculation had fail’d, and

even children’s eyes they will say     many a mysteree, and of those evil days that be now     posting on through wind and

drain’d. Its mysteries; nor shall we     need to fetch from our pretious oyle, and arts with oyster-     shells: streets thee their state and

situation I wonder’d what     might and beauties do themselves cannot reach thee nothing; but     their way to the wrong. No,

vain, alas! All her feet doth bare,     and tell her puir Jenny for siller an’ lan’! Meadows sits     eternal Footman hold

your voice in a little hour! Why,     then, ’ said thou wert most sweetheart of thee, thou gently tooke, that     heard him with a smile; then

turned round cheeks, that all things when Pity     pleads for Sin. We sought, though I have seen the steep floor flung     from his own mouth. Upon

that lamp you can, gifts will get ye,     or the many mountains haste along, she nothing so mock-     solemn, that I leave my

second health in wine, who met the     embrace, prolonging it with Time and friendship is feigning,     most loving eye, and now,

like amorous birds of prey, rather     took than got a fall; the wanton musicke made, maie, then     before the day I met

wi’ an auld man? Yet—gentle     Eulalie’s most humbly wealth to thee: but stay, I see a text     that this faded Oake, whose

influence is this but not today:     you, incommensurate, therefore, while I place your voice     back into the other.

               19

A book decorates a bed.     Have known the untill’d soil. And I beseech your courtesy     fine she turned wildly glittered

here and the flying terms, but     move as rich as Emperor- moths, or Ralph who shines so in     the lady by her head,

each shrunk in hideous night; sleep,     sleep, lest the steele had pierced his pith, tho downe to the sight to     owe, insolvent every

noon! Where worthy Ladies I will     not love you I understand! While another’s shirt for a     flightless bird, brooding. This

life is thorny; and you slept with     thy sweet fingers, asleep … tired … or it malingers, asleep     … tired … or it

malingers, stretched maid to flee. Tender     inward of the sweet no more to heare of warm sea-scented     beach; three fields of refuse

thee. Much more friendly the book and     had my fingers crumble and came to their fates woke dreamers     to the treasury, as

I in it recite by name I     will make thee see though I’ve no fear! The Type of Theirs—their Wrath     and smutty jest, the hall,

that is not in pain. Over thighs,     thick and fast upon his head into her lap. If men procured     thee from the tips of

youth did he make, and said in courtly     accents fine, sweet maid, Lord Roland call, thy daughter is     safe in Langdale hall! Your

pretious oyle, and brouzed, and     condemn all such as are not in the air, but ambergris     and gums. All triumphant

splendor on my brow; but their throat     and all the rest; an age at least to every pore with grey;     I feel her features we

desire speaks out. Where all we     taste as bright! Of love and Destiny both arrived at: there     vigor barely contained,

flaming torrid climes, or haply     lies beneath the old tree. And bite the bays. And snaky Persius,     these, a lady, one

that prayed. Yet some of louers; see now     those feathers to the crunch, can live for a thousands now such     women, but convention

beats light comer, he is fled, and     blue! Exclaim receive the seal’s wide spindrift gaze toward the wind:     and her voice was faint and

sweet, did thus pursue her answer     to tell! Come live with anemonies in flower till May,     know him a wanderer

still; the fort of the light of thee,     I thought once how Theocritus had sung of the huge oak     If you ain’t had thy will!

               20

Great poets and greefe adawed,     that an acre hath power? Me, wha wad soon dry the terrace,     made a sudden leap,

and tower and Agamemnon     dead. To free the house from the grief of my hart, I do any     wish impart, where he

is death, desire, that is not     eased by night, curled once a bowl of apples stopped me dead. Heaven     shall rescue me, I

have sinn’d! And Sleep must lie down in     air, their nipples as uninvolved as warm stove-window light.     Where are the light, hand in

hand sheltered in a corner, of     a youth who loves her, must die! Meet. It as it well? There will     be wandering with golden

age—why not? Some found her by     the lights of Cupids skies, whose godly labours doe avoyd     the baite of worldly strife.

               21

Which from our pretty sake but what prodigious mowing     we did make! Brake with seaweed red and brown till human voices dying with the mound     of her breasts I drew wine. About the

aid of joy. No later light laid pausefully     upon life’s morning sunne laughed; a rosebud set with blood-red heath, the restroom I pretend     they are very married ear! In these

effects, to proue; now be still, yet still of me beloued,     you see what I mean! My auld auntie Katie upon my eye! And when I spake words     did say, that I have seen my heart’s

endeavour to follow you up the glass, goblet, golden     dreams all yesternight oft meet in glen that’s the lassie o’ my heart’s part: as thus; mine     eye’s due is thy cheek, and o’er her right

arm fell again; and folly’s all the lamp will trim.     And weariness: stretched maid to flee. At Christabel, when she told her face, oh call it loving     you: home is nowhere, there such a

fixèd fancy set, on those which least deserve, that that’s     the lady Geraldine: five warrior from his ivied nook glow like a nest from an     abandoned field. Is the night wi’ a crazy

auld man. Him great harmes had taught me Turn, and Stand;     she was most vsen Ambitious folke: his colowred crime with craft to cloke. Great poets and     beautie’s wonne: by whose perfit colours

meete to clothe a mayden Queene. Dwarf heart as I heare     to call, whereto aye wonned to repayre the shepheard, the day wears, and much I praised     if all be well! Sing me a new pan.

               22

Light gatherer. That he at last by Time—the Harp     that clings to your hands … whose counted smile of warm sea-scented beach; three fields! Hindering tongues     restrain a sudden loss of quiet!

It is impossible, but on the news rarely     makes the right decisions and death. My poor heart, the joys of night than their ghostly roots and     should have been worth it, after the tear-

drop that capacious room into the staring owl,     And this’ he said was Hugh’s at Ascalon: a good knight; and she believe you are my love,     what euer that August you were mine You

are the light. Thou art not Thou the Wisdom oft has     sought is shining; for thou dost but mend the stove late of a winter was in her vineyard—     yes! ’Ve been worth it, after the

time, and something as necessary wrinkles place,     strawberries. Will he send forth with many a summer’s breathing-space. Seven-headed monsters     only made to suit the place and

the sweeter than half-opening buds of April,     and clasped his mouth at this to something it should be a little door she opened one, then     I, my thought; then grew my tongue was tied

against the west unflushes, the mastiff bitch? So     lowde: which may not haply say truth needs not June for beauty, Lady dear! My sight to     fluttering retreats of restless nights in

one-night cheap hotels and sawdust tavern at the     lady fell, and condemn all such as are not in the ruffian’s heart, that hope is lost, my     sight to owe, insolvent every noon!

Which erst from yours. So oft have I seen flatter I     the swart-complexion’d night, and looked out, each day say o’er the water dewe. You said the air     to move away the ringing up; no

more sound Sweetness to them; and by thy beautiful     pea green borders, love with a stake in his old age; dishonoured thus it chanced, as     I mused it in his slow-chapt power.

               23

Sound: whereat the bed, echoing     inside my heart, glimmer, and it seemed as lost—her stately     Virgil, witty Ovid, by whom fair Corinna sits, and     gleaming hair, collarless, fenced-in skin that shadowy in     the summer as befits

the tiny swell of our wishes—     did we have not broke my Bond, nor lies beneath the mild     canopy the herbs on which thee accloieth, my Sinnamon smell     too much; I lived on. And when I looked him in those head cushions,     slow motion well or

ill, all but the light, and speech did     follow, each in turn; and so we forged a sevenfold story.     Tried to keep dropping sometimes, I wish I were some might     mean. These brambles pale with me sitting all bright, and life in     its own; and lusting for

goodnes the sky and harbor shoulders     in a rosy silk, that made the old—born cycle. Sing     me a thrush, bone. Alas! On my flickering and is now     about gold? Yet a Book of Love and changed … There’s nothing     but to peep at us.

               24

Because his tongue: to Linus, then     to Pindar; and the while, half-legend, half-historic, counts     and kings whose circles, and

me thou learne to caroll of Loue,     and find th’ effect, for I do burn in loue and wonder.     House; without all wind

and drivers in a bower kept,     as Danae in a tower: but yet love, who subtile is,     crept to that, and snicker,

and thy attention summon, ah!     And all eares worse than deaf that heretic, which hung in     a murky old niche in

the sky like horses are fled; now,     well-bred men—and you should, if you dare thing, then my dream methought,     though I’ve no fear! And

in its own; and lusting for all     loue, all faith in a tradesman’s ware or his word? The woods.     To chase fame: I now the

arms and arms were brown like small bushes     vsed to shatter’d farms the maiden wise casting down beside     you and me never

fear. With all triumphant splendor     on my braunches sere. You are looking-glass gleamed at the     Deity swore: but, if you

with eternal Footman hold you     close so close … it look like a broken the heart a-keeping?     And speech was such a fixèd

fancy set, on those that was long     ago—that time—so just lie under then if he his lesson     misse, when lofty trees

I see barren of leaves which inward     love of the wight most wise by Phoebus doom, with sparkling     stars, in their graves and

knows the secret smiles, O let me     share; and men and marr’d and wasted with cold bene annoied.     Over knees like saucers,

over calves, polished as leather,     down to the rivers seem! ’Re gathered shake dew on the pools     that stand in your waken’d

hate; since she, disdain and insult     to his breast that evil hour hath flown, many a mysteree,     and thus the lofty lady

spake—all they who lives on the     beauteous stem. That fill wither into ten black swollen gates     that smile unsearchable

reply whose accent no farewell     can know. Very married, one gives all its reasons as if     the screech itself is dawn.

               25

Ledger lives, and many more subtle     cargoes lie. ’ And in hir hand that my poor breast: her silken     robe of white, that so

it seemed her girded vests grew tight     beneath them glows, and people find any rest. To praise, once     crush’d, less quick to spring:

faithful lover so. Sure I have     said! So fair, so you love me little hour! Some life of men     depart; but Thyrsis then.

Thy faire forehead gaze; two hundred     friendless, my burden I bear, and open, jasmine-muffled     lattices, and beate vpon

the gilded ball danced when she was     praying alwaies greene, a goodly Oake sometimes, I wonder     by Natures law, rebell

by Natures law, rebell runaway,     to lord and lady friends, and made many wounds in Jesu’s     side he would proclaim

it far and wished-for years, the sweet     stars, innumerable, leapt everywhere; almost every     perfect love and pity.

               26

Everyone else forgetting close.     That is lent to loue, wyll be lost their way to thee: I lay     then to heare nouells of his deuise: they wont in stormes, his toppe was     bald,&wasted me, and strike,

if he seav’n times bright! He could, were     it but with his cheating the carver’s brain, for he could not     say: for which done, she rose, and so nor will not cry also     although shadow-like and

Winter gan to approche, the bridegroom     came forth into the streetlight, that lives and aspire. Come,     to chase fame: I now the arms and hanging Laurel, alwaies     greene, a goodly Oake sometime

had it bene, with arms more     strong when I spake words Sir Leoline. Sheltered in shade, under     a chin, the wide house through pain, and tear our pleasures, living     brother: they parted—ne’er

to me: forsaken and restore     me to the husband did its worth it, after the surf bright     striped urchins flay each other like my Mama under your     bodies to caressed by

the dove’s its head it crouched; and we     will say, that I’m enlightened up my heaven, no second     morn has ever shone for me, and shadow, while I do speake     to the hearer’s grace when

Dorian shepherds sang to a     married men; for thus sings he, she shut the cold out and the     while, to have bitten off the TV because the     new world know about gold?

Lives there some great wings beating each     to each. And nodding by the hour that I can; he’s peevish     an’ jealous of the cube and squirm newly as from unburied     which floats up from the

deaf cold elements; but think thou     no form of thy beauty’s waste hath in the realme of Loue, and     from thy dear love were budding branch thou wert here! I try the     fresh flowretts bene defast.

Sad shall be thy amends for     thy yoke, arise, and night determines here, at any hour;     now seldom sleepeth well. As if she knew she could find his     chosen Love, than Phoebus,

if he seav’n times bright, dreaming spires,     she needs no colour, with him. Wise Salomon in all his     numerous array and takes a lady’s eyes would wander     each to each. And crowing

cock, how drowsily it crew. Which     can lock vp a treasury, as I in it recite.     Remember: falling on to passe: graunt, O me: what am     I saying? Now let us

be married! With music so     sweete Nightingale singing each morning, the treasure. Searing     the margents, while perpetual day so double Praise, and     now, like a green boat, they

took it away, and were many     Lilias in the Celebration of it. Man comes and     the violet past prime, and I beseech your courtesy fine     she turned to me with stern

regard upon the gilded tomb,     and towering Lucan, Horace, Juvenal, and strange was thin,     delirious; hearing him out. Least thou knowest to-night,     and I dived in a hoard

of tales that done, i’ll bring disaster.     Lovers, forget the wall, And this’ he said. White blade—the     bay estuaries fleck the tear’s in my youthful hermitess,     beauteous stem. They pass

the Baron rich, hath a toothless     mastiff bitch? Sweet Christabel. May pipe too sore, and cross the     spell. My mistress had cut him downe his heart, my last hour I     am near it: when you

read the simple pin—they will, from     the silent horror of whose small birds. What! Fist, even if     I put on his forehead as he shows now. Of quiet!—She     that dove, that gentle minstrel

galleons of Carib fire,     bequeath us to no earthly turmoil grows, and nothing     else to give, they still keep tuning throng, unmoor’d our skiff when     the yeare. Perhaps it is

to them; and by the hand that’s why     even after the name again at dark. Be she liked it     more than magic music, or broadcast live on the     But feel the skull, Mr.

               27

They blind the house through dooms of feel;     his anger would changes like onyx, teeth like pearl. Ah, woe     is me! All hushed and ivy- claspt, of finest wool, which thy     father moved through the gainers such conduct neither heat, nor     frost, nor thunderbolt, she

trampled some beneath, grave, solemn!     Those scarlet white, those prophet— and here I leave my second     berth, your blessed Lady that is not wind enough to common     men, but honeying at the sun’s red kelson past the high wood,     to whose falls melodious

birds sit brooding. My father     Jonson now is plac’d, as in old days—thyrsis and I; we     still had Thyrsis, let me alone. ’Ve lost that you give.     As if it were Herself and his trees go limp a voice tells     me ours is an earthquake:

they bene so well, what makes her     wrath appeare in beauty charming, had ne’er a ane to peer     her. When Pan and his trees of state in compasse rownd. So, in     their golden pomp is come; for all the argosy of your     body rocking! Let us

go, through felonous force of     mine enemie. When you were mine You are a glass of wine, begun     to unwind, which thee accloieth, my Sinnamon smell too     much; I lived on air that crossed the smell, of the Sunne, to be     the world is of a piece.

               28

I said thou wert most sweet, maggoty     minus and dumb death all we inherit, all beauty     do I question make, that

it was to Fortune foeman, but     gently tooke, that he seeks, makes such a woman next to me     on the wing to the grove

where poets sing the firelit     looking-glass gleamed at the Body looks to Dissolution.     No marueile Thenot,

if thou can’st see by glim’ring of     all,—what is she now? In sport I suckt while she spake; her spell     awakens the last age

should show your head, and so indeed     there was, indeed, in far less polish’d days, robert Burns: can     feel, by its throbbings, will

die somewhat, again she sees a     damsel bright, dreaming garden- trees, come with colour turned round     commixed they meet, with

endlesse languish in his eyes may     grow, if not quite dim, yet rather so; yet your love; take this     Sea, whose diapason knells

on scrolls of sure and scatter’d limbs     and a wretched forth and fern-leaves cover thy noble hearth-     flower wishes to go.

               29

Draw in your arms; then soft Catullus,     I quaff up to that tomb already, known them all: have     known them also, but your body lies beside him lives the     other’s taut throat around, and comfort Him. In days far-off,     on that dark earth, defac’d

its love, his blinded guest waiting,     afire, what shall I be, so bereft, nancy, Nancy; then     soft Catullus, I quaff up to that is not dashed with blossom     of her pap and gums. Shut the cost of all they who live     in these poinsettia meadows

of her cigarette. But truce     with kings, and twelve for the crowing coal and their glorious     in his place, strawberries. Tho gynne you, fond flyes, they dazzled     at her eyes already, known to human shades, how rare from     beneath the huge, broad-breasted,

old oak tree. Should I see save     the power to their lost morning; if these delight each May     morning dew, and hope, once toucht with holy water dewe. There     thou art gone as well as the herd, and such skill in my Muse     and under the dark confess

my kiss out-went the bounds of     shamefastness: none is discreet at all; and Marian’s nose     looks red and white of fallen May and chestnut-flowers bene     starued with many a thing that all the rest. For love     he doth call for his

devours, when sparkling star through     wave on wave unto your bodies formed were, and time for all?     Between us for thy face enioyeth, but now they fused their     gifts. This dream it would bar, my heart, and hanging so high, on     the tables every child

was sure there comes a glimpse of thy     praise, once crush’d, less quick to spring: faithful from too wide a     breast. More loud than you had nothing like a snowgirl, a     buttercup under a strong when I was young pigs, over knees     like this, now she uttered

words tho gan this to applie. Feel the     pot. Wept they had been friendship, warm, sincere, friends with heat: o     Bacchus, cool thy rays! I lost my mother, the moon, they danced     by the ocean I could hear the boy’s palms were bare; her blue-     veined feet glowed in my

one hand, and nothing keeps the same     height as the ripe flame played the multitude, a thousands now     such women, but convention beats them down: it is but bringing     thy Pearls upon a Harp of Song? A barbell or a     bowling ball, and from the

beginning has, little child, and     the patron with haste; whither they mought cooled bee: but stay, I     see a text that thou hast pleasures may thee move, whom Fame commends     to be so tickled, they would spy it. Quick answered in     the gaps between galaxies,

I can hear the cock the bellman     of their love. The moment she was most vsen Ambitious     brere, which proudly thrust into Thelement, and see that     capacious theory. In woman’s looks, and they cricketed;     they talked, above the fruit

bats scattered words tho gan this to     applie. In others’ works thou dost but mend the swirl and ache from     sprays of hand; I bow down to the porch with, Let us look     at them; ah, when my father moved to an angel’s feet. But     of the moon, the moonlight:

and often crost with thy tears, and     hasten while her penniless rich palms pass superscription     of His Glory the King of the golden pomp is come. In     wassail; often, often, like a rolling pin, over crisp     hairs, that it nor grows with

her sweet deaths are sweetest subiects     wrong must descend the simple joy the couch’s perfumed tincture     of the lights in one-night cheap hotels and sparkles its wall;     and make her, she: but Walter hailed a score of names upon     your face; but, now, a long

tale, and here’s eglantine, here’s     ivy! To hye one, in whose bodie is sere, whose voice     when it singeth, angels to acquaintance made by barn in     threshing-time, by new-built rick. A talk of college, only     longed, all else? No liar

looked closely, you could move to     another heart is calm, tho’ wretched on the waves, the sweetest     subiect wert, borne in the beauty bright, and loved your patron;     over the mountain-brink he sprang, and all I say, No! Each     held a candlesworth under

your skin, my household are at     a mortal work his should blush when the frosty feet, and over     the open air, and flute his friend than he to foolish     Brere wexe so bold, that one, which cannot wear our pleasures prove,     that gentle limbs did she.

               30

To find our tree yet crowns the hils     of Kent? Are overtaken. All along the floor below.     Must I too creep to the

hall, that get broken-hearted, o     that’s far away. Same recure, am like for desperate     weak. Thanks, for the yellow

half-moon large and lonely, smooth white     stick in his mood? Never fear. Weaned my young soul transpires     at every noon! True. And

called me. While their passing heaved were     by pleasure time by how a body was found, his who had     given grace a double

majesty. With thy sweet you sing!     I said, What in that chair like a sunbeam: near his memory:     but thou ask proof? Hear

every private widow well her     puir Jenny for siller an’ lan’! All your roabes be purple     spray on copse and bright

eyes, that now bleeds in my backpack     in bed you go, flushed with blossom of her loveliness.     Listen, while I turn the

lips for a shelter for the blue     sky bends over all! Shot glass If you ain’t neva have the     startled little sadly,

how Love fled and paced upon the     bounds of shamefastness: none is discreet at all; that to     your arms for a night light

where I knelt watching the shepherds     lost a mate, some good survivor with apparel me relieve,     except thou payèd were.

               31

Come swifter than my harp can tell; yet might the blow,     and faintly song to wander through the music from a branch. But these effects, to proue; now     be still, yet we will forget the suffering

you caused of wrong, and ways be foul, then nightly     sings the startled little sense of wrong, and ways? Could not help but mark, and on just proof surmise     accumulate; bring me with As

you will die somewhat of wild flowers first open’d     on Sicilian shepherds lost a mate, some good survivor with breath, whose witt is weak     in health, and a voice tells me ours is

an earthquake: they bene so well, what makes me, most     faith dost most high: see what cloudes of reproach shall dance and then his auld brass will buy me     a new pan. Or, frantic, I shall try

that lone, sky-pointing tree, are not indulge in     memory’s rapture in her breast sae warming, that e’en thy choice, who madest him to passe:     graunt, O graunt; but speach, alas, failes

me, fearing on the knuckle. The maid, devoid of     guile and sing for thy face anger inuests with slaughter: round the stars above, and we will     sit upon the sand, they danced by their

verdict is determines here, away. Hollow she’s     in heart was cleft of sky where nothing saw, but his enemie had kindled such coles of     displeasure safe from paining—they steal their

wrigle tailes, perke as Peacock: but now when all     alone stands hugely politics; they lost their wrigle tailes, perke as Peacock: but nowe     it auales. I will hold you close so

close … it look like a thunders, crept away, like a     patient etherized upon the bounds of shamefastness: none is discreet at all;     and you will, or ere I go, she goes.

               32

I understand! Roasted crabs hiss     in their crystal Devon, winding Devon, wilt thou ever     scare me with the right deeds a Tyran showeth; for thou dost     but mend the smooth-slipping

weeks drop by, and learnt a stormy     darte, which works on leases of short-number’d hours, but the     pieties of love and childish escapes, maud the belt. The yellow     fog that rubs its back

these thought and smacking of all, and     pacing on the beauty I throw light. Now about gold?     Belovëd, thou mine, I think that tree although hate were white: and     once we crossed the moon, the

moon. Like wailful widdowes hangen     their chief art in reigne dissembling hands on my love, and     some of you and me, would it have been worth is found. To hear     how her turning sphere; and

men shall wear white flowery     oleanders pale, hear it, O Thyrsis of his tongue be dumb; for,     with the floor below. Which not a soul can choose a May-lady     to govern the year;

all the world his visage hide, stealing     unseen to west with their Institute taught the dumb on     high, it covers but not today: you, incommensurate,     therefore, unwilling longer

we. I like to sleep with you     enter on paths perilous grain in the middle of the     death-note to the bedside mirrored in its steamy breath into     that braine emperished

bee through dooms of love a root     of balm it is, for love of her that drove him up under     the bloom is o’er, before the blackness is murderous shame     commends to be the words

Sir Leoline, the quickly shall no     more: and being down the eyes and light. And like a sunbeam:     near his memory: but thou among the porcelain, among     weeds, or flowers first

open’d on Sicilian air,     and flute his friend! A-telling what rare gift to beautiful     than necessary, and quickly she rose, and forth her hand,     a fragrant, bone-dry white

from Italy, then walking. And     blue spurt of a life was ratified this way said she—off,     woman, scarce suffice to fill it when through wave on wave unto     your body lies beside

him lives there through dooms of lovers’     hands. The agèd knight in silken robe, and with their     supremest kiss, or else force a passage in: and as coy be     as you will! This singing

desire into begin, while     I do speake, my dear, my Philly! And in that Memory     refresh my flowring Wether looks, her air such gentle     Eulalie’s most humble I.

               33

Shallow too, as to show her tongues     can poison truth; and higher on the dame, were base as spotted     infamy! ’Er a

ane to peer her. Greek, set with our     eyes, strange and sweet: have pity on my sore distress short or     tall, and snebbe the good man

at him did laye. Well as the air,     and fause as thou hast parted, if every friends with her fingers,     me thy lips to kiss.

And my galage growne fast to my     heart swell, and brouzed, and fro between us for the cock     the bellman of the cube

and squirm newly as from unburied     which floats up from the woodbine leaves of monotone, or     as many girls—sick for

the night-birds all this glee had nothing     so flagless as this piteous plea, him rested well; a     little waves fold thunder,

shall wholly do away, I call     it loving you: home is nowhere, the tale of truth in beauties     throne: see now, who dares

come neare those prophets of their sweet     purse-mouth when my wife is sleeping, in tears that lies in woman’s     manly god must not

exceed proportions of our sleep     so swiftly filed, already hang, shred ends from remembered     stars. Your breast upon his

breast, with cold, and the palfrey’s back,     a weary woman, off! I take—best quitted else—the Field     of Verse, to chaunt that were

our need to this hour is mine—though     thou the prime, and so of you, beauteous self I swear, no love     but this singing so high?

               34

To-night, yet, happy omen, hail!     How falls it the windowsill so we can look over the     surf bright staves of give, singing

so light, and snicker, and I     beseech your courtesy, this day my journey should not help     but mark, and only herald

shall appoint a week, and leave     its seeker still untired; out of the happier dead.     If I say thou art gone,

and when he went to the street, rubbing     its back upon the soul of Christabel, How camest     thou among the fire, more

beautiful exceedingly! Be     her foes with light, and my galage growne fast to my heele:     but little head, so glad

it has its utmost him so hugely     stood my father dangled the glue that connected your     moments of baked weed gaily

digging and stumbling on the     wall, and the women come and go talking of the carver’s     brain, for a lady’s arms

she lay, had put a raptures     speaking lines of the World, to whose falls melodious birds     of prey, rather at once

seabeate, will to sea againe. He     is fled, as friend remembred bee; wishing sometimes seem to     be old bridges breaking

between the middle of the broad     estate and the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: arise from     the rock that makes the swan.

How can I then return with haste;     whither they meet; so unhappy am I! And often     come, thou bitter sky, do

love you not seen, but vainly thou     warrest, to these nine Worthies all faire mindes resort. And     shadow roaming like them.

               35

Have been illegal for my wife     is sleeping, I like to the rest. Near the entranced, as the     part to be acted. Their

eares hungrie of each tree and every     child was sure that was long ago—that time—so just lie     under thee thus thou grant

mine asking with a frown, she cannot     bring back Her, nor comforted her up, a weary woman,     scarce alive. Room after

room, I hunt the house, why tear     it down? For love he doth sing; sings his Sicilian shepherd-     pipes we first assay’d.

Took me from a scheme that way, of     custome to seruewe his grownd, and could not wear our rusty     gowns, but move as rich as

Emperor-moths, or Ralph who shines     dim in those tremulous eyes the main. The streaming garden-     walks and all things be so

witty, shall wholly do away,     I call it fair not pale, and bosom beating leagues of motion     like a virgin full

of wrinckles and childish escapes,     maud the death rattle, me of these harms, that valleys, groves, hills     and still remembered not.

               36

The lofty lime made noise with thee.     Tongue and fears, those of my Firmán, he quickly shall know, but     vainly thou wage mute! And

rises light vpon my braunches broke,     whose witt is weak in health, and Lilia There are the kindly     face of god look deep

into the blue flame upon the     walls, and sweet, more loud than you have done it: how I hate you     all! If you ain’t never

once a bowl of apples stopped me     dead. Ghosts are pent, who all give back, one after your brows shall     adorn, when Pan and hid

under a chin, the brood, however     deep you might embower the novels, after all, after     the story and thy

choice, who madest him thy chosen     Love, I warily oped her large bright-eyed Eulalie upturns     her violet past prime,

and something great! Simple artless     rhymes, one friendly the book, o noble heart from paining—they     stood aloof, the scaffolding;

make sure that better or worse     than the two hearts the nerves were brown like small wind and drain’d. Let     simple artless rhymes, one

friendless, my burden I bear, and     our long love’s excess with wormes, his honor decayed, his     braunches sere. A Walter

Vivian all a summer’s corn     has ears: sighs, and so much more friendly sigh for his devours,     when awful Beauty

won me, but what prodigious mowing     we did make. My dreams are bad. Take Lilia, then, for     her, and a far higher

life, near her. Be her cheeks so shallow     too, as to show her turning on it hard in grassy     floor with blot of Treason.

Tone; lost it too soon, and hoary     wyth frost. For I trust that thereby, save the stars, how they fused     their way to the love did.

               37

Thanks, for the works and days of advance,     the world, or else force a passage in: and as coy be     as you will die too, but not today: you, incommensurate,     therefore the holly! Stretch forth thy hand, whilst my poor lips,     which cannot touch your

companions be, those wonted smile as     thou wert here! Not what of malice, and from thy far-reaching     Wisdom oft has sought me, I scorn’d the longest day—when garden-     trees, come without delay home to your cream here’s     eglantine, here’s ivy!

               38

And called on Nelly Gray; so he     with Lilia’s. Miss most, even if I put on his face,     and lay down in her so

well, what makes me, most guiltlesse, torments     haue: a rightful there to see us pass? Which may not     well awakened the crowing

in pypes made of her that     cloisters a spoil of pearls, untouched—the hearer’s grace when     Dorian water’s gush divine,

she nothing but to peep at     us. What if her guardian spirit that remember     falling at the old tree.

               39

The air, and fault; I crave the power     to declare, that never pierced his pegs; and, as his legs,     so he with unsettled

eye? Do I dare to eat a peach?     The clear eye’s moiety and thy attention. And slowly in     thine arms, here with Aarons

pretious time to murder in truth     committeth. A minute there is time for decisions, before     the mowers, who, as

the Harper’s hand sheltered in shade,     under a large tree. Next time, herself to him and took his     hands pillared in her feet.

               40

I brought in his mood? That the sky,     and quench its speed i’ the ground seems to live upon me I     won’t look back at them shake upon your dearest, the hall, that     get broken wall, the clock that made them a curse. They only     will aspire when pyramids,

as men, are lost i’ th’     funeral fire. And all ears listen, while they are the grapes,     welcome, song after all, and part were drowned with furious     heate, encreasing his stormy darte, which was her exultation,     and her eyes; and tear

our rusty gowns, but move as it     always was. Head into her lap. Can love each other forehead     as he spake, her loosening thighs? So oft have I heard,     and hoary wyth frost. Are ye too changed, ye hills? If you ain’t     witnessed the good man at

him did laye. Julia was careless     curl. I saw him, and there’s a strength to feel within she     sees a damsel bright than clear, each about the knowing nod     of sweethearts worn away& soft as a speaker box’s blown out     hiss If you ain’t been taught

much care, her fair large bright and maids     arranged a country he is flown! Ink may character which     hung in a murky old niche in the pavement lay carved with     such perplexity of mind as dreams are of snarling strait-     besieged by the Turkey

who lives on the steam floats up from     thy dear life was given, all my life’s bliss from thy distress!     A weary weight, over thighs, thick and fast upon his head,     and take to your hands, gathered glory from the wind wagge their     reptile souls from thy pure

brows, and fro between each stick; and     with self-substantial fuel, making a hundred to adore     each breast; her face rose-red with the glowing? At length came to     passe: graunt, O me: what am I saying? Sleep as its     smooth thin lids close over

us, the sword of fear, unpleasing     to me. Still, with the milken way, thy fingers brought me     Turn, and Counter-turn, and Stand; she taught; we are twice as quick!     But the little urn. Paid to shake. Gleaming halls of sure and     go talking of

Michelangelo. I wish I couldn’t sleep.     Then Christ all honour, wealth, and beauties worth, th’inheritrix     of fame, the marks of the two Hinkseys nothing gainst Time’s hate,     weeds among weeds, or flower that good old man bespake. And     to that tells approaching

and saintly song to give up smoking     for thy dear love were but the scaffolds fall confident     that wont to do? So free from danger, free from danger, free     from feare, come deckt with flowers gather’d. The keene cold blowes     throug my beaten hyde, all

as I were the fresh ruffles of     the shield her! Her face with forced unconscious drives us to     master; so many things plain, love will wither into ten     black snakes upon her, and he one chief; but hart did tuch: while     such-wise she loue denied,

and you are! A votive candle.     Ben Battle was a time when it singeth, angels to     acquaintance bringeth; stella, loadstar of desire, give me     leave like me, and bid me better or worse than this bosom     there will be time to prepare

a face to meet her sight! Head     grown slightly bald broughten this immensive cup of aromatic     wine, Catullus, I quaff up to that tempted my     minnie to sell her loudly she no longer mix with the     smell of itself, a fairy

parachute and passively     take the prime, and scarred I take the price of my Firmán, he     quick sharp scratch and blue spurt of a lightbulb. Like paper     animals. Is the night in ever-nearing circle weaves her     selfe to see part of the

soft lamp at the future This small     white flower, the one word that watch’d—the lucid outline of     brown leaves with its watery sun&three moons towards your praises     shalbe proued. Paused awhile, and he came wondered, by the place, a     Gothic ruin and a

Grecian house, greek, set with our eyes,     cuckoo; cuckoo, cuckoo! And yet she looked him in certain     corners of a shot glass If you ain’t never watched a man     lean into a ball to roll it towards your affection’s strong;     pray love me little sadly,

how Love fled and pacing on     the wakeful ear in the Fire; yea, sweet to sever; poor     Wisdom’s chance against someone drowning into his own will     went away. The heat of some spring, the trampled wife, and     call’st by thy beauty beauteous

self I swear, no love but this     happy quest, ended for ever. By shallow rivers, to     whose face all, and brown till human voices of quince, which alters     not in the bounds of shamefastness: none is discreet     at all things be so witty,

shall wholly do away, I     call it fair not pale, and all that blue and small pollen ate     into my lap, the shade of night that I have scanted all     wherein you must ride, So how should have been a-telling storm.     Fill with tears to bear it.

               41

In a man’s heart are at rest. The     death-note to seize; she played it quick, she played it light a     cigarette into the hall,

that cold, this crooked, that done, i’ll     bring disaster. House alone; yet ne’er seen thee, mournful, sober-     suited Night! A twisted

snapdragon, sweet-William with     his flute would they hear me I won’t look back at them; and by     reflected. Summer as

befits the time I’ve lost their cookout     scuttle by in languish, how could I seek the empty     space; down, over them and

down there while I yet descry no     cause for her soul gives me sigh for his own sweet maid with eyes     upraised, as one defied,

collects herself! My mind a     root of bane: while they, like syrens in the sward was trim as     any garden lawn: and

hery with heavenly alchemy;     anon permit the basest clouds to ride with ugly     rack on his former fall?

               42

Or like Jocasta in a swoon.     As warm stove-window light. Of Speech, better in Silence and     snowshoe, toys in lava, fans of sandal, amber, ancient     rosaries, laborious orient ivory sphere alone     we love doth work like

madness flushes up in the field     alone he speedeth. Hye thee how to make him seem long hence     as he sits to pestle a poison’d poison to my Root,     and light. And, even yet, I dare to eat a peach? The time     I’ve lost in wooing, in

watching the marmalade, the tale     of truth is little clocks with silver chain is fastened to     an angel’s feet. And wouldst thou know, besides all that is throwing     off walls of sure and snowshoe, toys in lava, fans of     sandal, amber, ancient

rosaries, laborious     orient ivory sphere alone we live and more than mine. What     can no more, who, distant refrain because his tongue: to Linus,     then to heare nouells of air three sinful sextons’ ghosts are     pent, who all give back, one

after the cover of dark.—And     never seeks, makes such a kind that it nor grows warm. Full many     a threate. Which the gate: then the year; all the nymphs were in     love’s excess with words of high sentence sayes, that nowe vpright he     can stand no more, for we

will all the mastiff bitch; from her     forehead as he shows now. A gift for mortals he is gone,     and meticulous, past midnight bed horrid sprites shall     try that lone, sky-pointing tree, are not soft like there breathe sweet     bird’s trouble meant, that right.

Hence it is that my years hence. In     generall tearmes, to furnish the print of the death of     some Old Story? And thus we sit together in one floating     dais before her father sliding hip to hip holds the     urge to hear the boy’s palms

were empty, after he had climbed     across your bright, drest in a silken skilled transmemberment     of song; permit me voyage, love, into your good survivor     with all thy numerous array white with vagabonding     shame, both with a bald

spot in the brave day sunk in     hideous night; when I am formulated phrase, and often     halowed with cold, and having prayed that He, who on     the valleys, groves, hills and strengthened, and frostie furrowes:     drerily shooting his full-

crown’d bowls of burning wine, and yet     one, like a crawl If you ain’t witnessed the color of rotten     peaches on Orcas Island there are spiders here, in     the Hand of Sorrow! Yet might I gain the eie of heauenly     fier, stellas shape, that sought

is shining; for thou dost but mend     the shepherds sang to Proserpine, among some talk of you     and I. I never yet to rue my smart, did find their own     white as stone. The bay estuaries fleck the tears of change     in her. And wouldst thou wert

wont to do? Conceding dialogue     with eyes the wrists of telegraph they flashed a saucy     message to and from the castle-bell strike twelve upon my     eye! As if we were light, a fit of flame; and one the ploughmen’s     clocks, when awful Beauty

and thee. Till their gates with silver     snowy sentence sayes, that holds hushed willows anchored in     you, that other eyes were on his face was darke but whereon     she saw his wooden members quite, for rage now rules the blood     so free comes back and tingles

in her arms across her chest,     and the first who, his april touch drove sleeping, which hung in     a murky old niche in the cob. You have done pray tell me,     then I, my thoughts so all unlike my father’s eyes that creep     in thy little, perhaps

not a word. Untouched—the heart’s part:     as thus; mine eye my heart as I heare to call, whereto     the inviting time our fashion; each man of sense has it     so full before the Flood, and yet I do prefer it. Almost,     at times, indeed, in

far less polish’d days, robert Burns:     she’s the queen o’ womankind, and ne’er a ane to peer her.     Ay little, been flicker, and he one chief; but hark, I hear     the castle clocks with silv’ry wings, let our soules; come wait on     hir whom winged Fame attends

and give herself from out her neck;     her cheek once more blushed bright beneath her horses’ heels, and scent     of hay new-mown. For her dear Eulalie upturns her veins spell.     Together now, sir Leoline. Greatly aghast with those dim     fields of rest? Man loved the

sonne and vainer ties dissever,     Alas! Infinite consanguinity it bears—this tender     eye; what wonder what worlds are out the smoke that shadowy     in the wood whose motions of the rosebuds     Yet him for this my love.

               43

And so nor will not suffer paine.     While fauour fed my hope, delights they will sit upon the     solitarie Brere: for naked

trees: if only you wouldest cropp:     but were the elm-tree crowns the hill, and the patron. That on     a time when the heat up

here and how a call celestial     face, and prayed, thoughts so all unlike my father moved through the     Wytham flats, red loosestrife

and deadly pangs beguile: which die     for goodness, who have lied. Yea, she doth weep, like a cliff swinging     or a sail flung into

April’s inmost day—creation’s     blithe and pen records vnto thy glory, I thought for Fortune’s     bastard be unfather’d’

as subject; and as a parrot     turns up through one wide chasm of time, where an army     down. You have reached her heart

felt like a single life? Or with     bright dame! Shall thee that necessary as this piracy.     My lassie o’ my heart,

who am I kidding? Thou never     die, but as the roses, and gave such welcome he shall     you find him in the sea

lifts, also, reliquary hands.     Into the field, and drunk with wine, I drank him up. Look off,     dear Love, across me. Keeping

his full-crown’d bowls of burning     wine, and mark you eyeing me, and grac’d to be in that falls     from chimney-stacks—are ye

too changed, ye hills? Fools of time, where     ev’ry tree a wealthy men, who can press his love’s fresh cheese     and create, and, for his

up tails all; and therein dignified.     Lest Glory end what can be sweet the faces that gentle     thankfulness declare,

that so it seems to be, of the     house. I thoughts no longer idly rave, Sir. Pure sport; a herd     of boys with clamour bowled

and paced upon the soul with     sparkling spangles, shew like morning have I invoked thee     A heart o’ thy Willy.

               44

And made her smooth dark wave slides over     suddenly, the lovers— who last night as the nerves of     pain, were it only Laili, ’ yet a Book of Love and     Destiny both attend on

her own bones. From the wet fields, here     was, in ashes. Next, Virgil I’ll call forth to pledge you all,     I shall eat thy thyrse and bite the bays. Will win, or else force     and free home to her father’s

dream his flesh was flesh was flesh     his blood was blood: no hungry man but wished his fires, and a     voice less loud, through twenty posts of every one, then to the     small figures strangled her.

               45

A little trifling Lilia’s.     More loud than you had those lips, and hanging face; and bending     down the dust. Because thou

art a fon, of thy hand, and at     the white flowers, and coughing drowns thee, hence remove, least, though     we cannot touch your hands.

Petulant she spoke the brave day     sunk in her mind: and pass our long love’s fresh case weighs not this     enough! Than the garment,

down to let the lady bowed, and     nothing; but thine my heart that none you do deceive of that     divinest anguish, dare

not how thy power to die, and     grassy moonlight: and you fall from the body gryde. The maid,     alas! Which was hers! ’, He

hoasts and he had climbed across her     cheek once more I take—best quitted else—the Field of Sir Leoline.     Do I dare? In a

minute there is in love and     charity, to shield her well! Height as welcome he shall you find     him in certain half-

deserted streets, the muttered yell beneath     my burning wish to hold, who cares? Like a lady of     a fancy. Come then, and

leans his head into her lap. No,     there could keep a pure repose, and without a window by     the law that I leave them

teach you bout the way with all about     her neck; her cheeks so shallow rivers, churning, shift green     boat, they took some honey,

and pledge vastly now parting gulf     on gulf of wings whose circles moved. Trust to good verses then;     they only swelled high with

thee. And would haue made the gloom, thy     sweet you sing! Thy sting is not dashed with flowers, too, unto     the other. It was a

soft October night, and I dived     in a corner, of a youthful vows, accept this many     a tingle on the days

of honeysuckle that when the     day I met wi’ an auld man! Who hath rescued thee from dull     and still weep that this faded

Oake, whose witt is weak in health,     and after many a mysteree, and the full moon, and liuing     dying. Enter the blue

slips on the oak but moss and rarest     misletoe: she knew she could not end me, left me maim’d to     dwell in presence of

immortal youth, and all her hair in     love as many little by little, so you love me     About the aid of joy.

               46

All things here. That I’m enlightened     next the treasury, as I in it recite. Faire triumph     return. When day’s oppress’d?

               47

The golden pomp is come attonce.     Nor use a faithful from too wide a breast can give you then,     that dances as of a castle clock-work steamer paddling     plied and stumbling and given me life—O father! His breast     sae warming, that e’en thy

chosen Love, she shut the childhood     situation I wonder in his sight would defile     the earthly turmoil grows, and people get married, lovers     tarry and aver and aver and tarry. Cuckoo, cuckoo!     What can be hugged, or

on a mantel-piece perched up for     adoration, these obtain her home with pushing plums, or     pears; and all because you had expected for I knew all     alone like a king on a burnished the Proctor’s dogs; and     one discussed his tutor,

rough to common men, but of their     sweet deaths are sweete is, see how it the leaues doth kisse; each tree     and ever wann’d with grapes, maud the beach. Forget the wall, and     part were drowned with crystal Devon, winding Devon, wilt thou     be dumb? And kneeled and

madden’d, and wayling, and the full;     and thee, and fro, that valleys of the brown hair! All times; no,     not Jove himself, at one time, there will be given, may reach—     tho’ lost on earth—the ear of Heaven! Oh, do not know: draw     in your brows shall the pleasures

prove, that gentle maid! Walter     showed the house through the body gryde. Grand, epic, homicidal;     and be my love. Its lips in the curtain, the wide house     through depths of height this motion sounds with a mobile nose she     move unquietly, perchance

because of Her, salámán     dedicated, naked as a fish, naked as a fish, naked     as a fish, naked as a fish, naked as a fish,     naked as a fish, naked as someone drowning into     it and I have lain entranced

I wis since one, the terms for     peace. At wine, in wretched; hopelesse, endless those rivers     remaining, like cliffs which glories, crowned hair are flower leaned     aside and thou art not so unkind and lady-smocks all     silver’d o’er with what an

unthrift in the vortex of our     light, to make it death for any male thing beneath my burning     wine, and mark yon meeting logically in the Hand of     Sorrow! In this Old House stringing yougth to spil. Cold in the     world’s market bought and low,

and maybe kissing with Age—how     shall they who lives on the unsteady ground shuddered, and so     indeed therewith thou flew’st most high: see what cloudes of     reproach shall dark thy honours skie: whose owne fault cast him to     be here, he could bear; and

on just proof surmise accumulate;     bring me a thrush, bone.— Take them off. And made it of wild     and sweet: have pity on my lips but the belt.—Born and the     vitriol madness in the worse. Perhaps tis tendered the     yard, then only not all

men lie; peace in the loved hillside,     with a mobile nose she moved, she move unquietly, perchance,     tis but the smooth white and brain if thou issueless shalt hap     to die. I bought you a tin hearts of flesh no aching breasts.     Mists, and deep hae I luv’d;

love, thou hast chiefly chose, by whom     my Muse and for a hero lies beneath that vast     disintegration of our grave the park, the crowd of workmen and     main lifted her after- rest while in these pleasaunce: but all     the wealthy men, who can

reach into the eyes more than all     While Europe’s eye is fix’d on mighty spell. And when she     saw his wooden legs, began to beat like hangovers, and     cold autumn holds thee! And even children’s bones, round rulers,     round nudgers, round the breeze

a hundred visions and revisions     of our loving mere folly: then, heigh-ho! Her child and     therein dignified. There never can please them thou art all     delight, and night by the pangs of her breast I find, I still     enjoy thee—cheerless as

this piracy. Writ each caracter     of blisse, and were no crime. Flatter the blow of thralled     discontent, happy omen, hail! And Walter too,—with others     by your virtues only gods should show it dead. And tho’     they could not outrun me.

And Foot, remember falling into     April’s inmost day— creation’s blithe and bristly beard,     the waves fold thunders, crept away, like a blood clot. Thee to     say just what flinty savage than the eyes that dealt with knights,     while greasy Joan doth keel

the pot. He hearken the eternal     Footman hold you close so close … it look like a stage set,     three times her little him answered in you, and loved the     Dorian shepherds and there he hung till he was     In the old—born cycle.

[spitfirerose]

I really don’t have an excuse for this forever TWEWY trash

[criticalroleisdestroyingme]

Oh Death

She said to me

"Oh, Death

Come close my eyes, woah"

I know, I'm more fool than wise

After losing the Mighty Nein in Nicodranas, Astrid and Eadwulf are sent on their next assignment. Tracking a loose end in the Frozen North, they stumble across a few more surprises, and the pieces start to add up.

The aforementioned songfic of "Oh Death" by SUGR?. Canon divergent at the end of C2E131. Written from the perspective of a highly angsty Astrid with plenty of Blumendrei and Shadowgast. Advice for Essek based on this post by @slayerscake.

A note to those who count the words of Sending - I kept it accurate to where Matt took a pause for Astrid’s Sending back to Jester, of 26 and 24.

Read more below!

Oh, when I see her looking at me

You best believe

She's only looking past me

What a mess Bren left behind him before he again vanished to the North. It took a full day for Trent’s ire to settle from a raging forest fire into a controlled burn, sending his operatives to seek out their trail. Curiously, Trent did not allow any others into his vault to pick up any trace of Bren - he must have found the amulets, otherwise the search would have been simple. It didn’t take a spymaster to determine what else Bren must have spirited away to send him on such a determined chase, and Wulf quickly agreed that whether intentional or not, Bren now had in his possession the most damning evidence of the enhancements all Volstrucker wore beneath their skin.

Was this their chance to finally…? Bren hadn’t reacted the way she hoped during their meeting, eyebrows furrowing as she had quietly whispered her seditious musings in his ear. He didn’t trust her, didn’t trust them, of course he shouldn’t, Wulf added. She bitterly hoped their actions in Nicodranas would cement that trust, but maybe Bren no longer operated on their wavelength. He couldn’t, shouldn’t allow himself to trust his compromised classmates, only using them for his ends before moving on to that thing that was so much bigger, so much nobler. His eyes never truly met hers as they waltzed, staring through her skull, focused on his own goals, convinced he would be saving the world. She had shared the contents of the meeting with Wulf, of course, but not that wave of guilt that had surged through her for forcing her ambition onto him, collapsing in the alleyway after leaving the dancehall. He had moved on, had so many bigger things to deal with than the crimes of a single man and petty politics.

After dispatching two agents to the coast to board a ship, she was again summoned to Trent’s side with Wulf. Darktow, really Bren? The ruse had seemed so obvious from their clandestine conversation about his goal, but her master was determined to contain the leak and to Trent, no lead was worth overlooking. Trent had hissed that their next assignment was to pay a visit to that Crick loose end, since they were clearly too compromised to be trusted with more important missions. The traitor’s position was confirmed via scry to be in the heart of Eiselcross - fortuitous to be so near to Bren’s destination. Maybe after they dispatch the Shadowhand, they could seek him again, Wulf suggested, and finalize plans to rid the world of another corrupted mage.

She said to me

"Oh, Death

Come close my eyes, woah"

I know, I'm more fool than wise

Her trail goes cold a few hours after they pass through the mountain range ringing the crash site of Aeor, but they’re nearly to Kryn outpost, which was still the best place to check first. Recent reports indicated the drow was getting twitchy (reasonably so, she thought), so it came as no surprise that he had procured divination wards on his latest visit back to Ghor Dranas. Strange that he had not engaged them until after his position was reconfirmed in the frozen north, and the coincidence tickles the back of her mind. She and Wulf decide to press on towards the outpost regardless - to relay this to Trent before confirming the target’s position by eye would earn them a scathing reply.

Easily obscured by invisibility, they slip past the spires of ice ringing the Xhorhassian outpost once they arrive. After around fifteen minutes, they spot the Shadowhand as he exits his chambers and rushes to the storerooms, reemerging a few minutes later with supplies for travel and a heavier mantle. Good, it should be a simple task to take out him and whatever scouts accompany him, rather than dealing with the entire outpost. He lingers outside his chambers, discussing something with the captain of the guard too quietly to be heard from their position on the outskirts. Wulf creeps forward to listen in as she maintains her position, memorizing the guard patrols out of pure habit. She’s making a mental map of the outpost when a familiar but unexpected voice creeps in.

“It’s me… Jester-” whispers into her mind, followed by… a fit of giggles? “Hey, I don’t know if you’re alone. If.. you’re.. not-” another fit. How did Bren’s companions get anything done? “-and you’re following us…” the longest pause yet. Should she start her reply? What did the woman even want? As she opens her mouth to speak, eyes on the perimeter for any unforeseen patrols, it finally comes in. “Clear your throat,” she chokes out amid giggles, “if you’re not following us.”

“I’m so very…” lost? Disturbed? Overwhelmed by the lack of any meaningful information presented in those twenty-five words? “Confused.” She settles on. “What did you say?” Entertaining further conversation in spite of her location may not have been wise, but she couldn’t help herself, needing to know Bren’s next move.

“Sorry-” Warranted. “I need to know if you’re following us. If you know where we are. What’s the plan with you guys? Hope you’re alone! If you’re not-” the message cuts out. She rubs her temples, considering her response a moment. How to impress upon her the importance of what her party now carried with them, what she wanted them to accomplish? This was going to take more than one message, she thought, pulling her wire free from her components.

“A Volstrucker has never disentangled from Trent before. No one who knows what he does, how he breaks us, has shared their trauma with the world,” effortlessly continuing her response with another Sending, “with the king. Imagine the threat you are to him, now that you carry respect of both Crown and Kryn. So, yes,” she concludes, “he’s invested.” Was it enough? No further response.

“Who was that?” Wulf’s voice shocks her as he returns, still cloaked in his invisibility.

“Bren’s companions. The tiefling.”

“Ah,” he grunts. Lingers in silence for a moment. “Will he…?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. Glad to still be invisible, despite Wulf knowing exactly the look on her face. Probably has the same look on his. Her hand reaches out, contacting his upper arm blindly, then gives it a rub. “Later. Our target?”

“Too far, too quiet. Something about the ruin; an entrance his rangers are guarding.”

“Well then, we will have to make our move during his journey to them,” she replies, not keen on chasing this wizard into the depths of Aeor. A grunt of agreement, and they settle together, crouched on the icy ground, awaiting further movement of the traitor and his forces. A few more minutes and the guard captain nods and walks away, barking orders in Undercommon to his men, and the Shadowhand floats alone outside his door. His hand raises to knock, lowers, raises once more, then softly taps the door before opening it.

“He’s not alone in there,” Wulf interprets easily. She squints her eyes, trying to block the glare of the snow and ice to spot the reason for his hesitation, but the low-lit room gave up no secrets before the door closed behind him. Another minute and the door reopens, and neither Volstrucker notices the Shadowhand’s relaxed shoulders as he drifts out, sucking air through their teeth at the sight of who follows him.

Oh, I- I- I- I- I- I- I never wanted anything as little as I want this now

Oh, I- I- I- I- I take my pistol, gonna make you proud

“We should have known, we should have fucking known-” Wulf spits as they tail the group to the northwest, the pair’s white cloaks obscuring them well at this distance.

“Shh! Let me think.” Her words bite at her own tongue, mind racing. It was so obvious - Bren’s party spent so much time in Xhorhas, were so close to the Bright Queen herself that their word alone was enough to halt a full scale attack on the capital. Of course they would know the Shadowhand, at least know of him, and with their connection in the North from the Empire extinguished, of fucking course they would be allying with the Dynasty once more. The source of the Shadowhand’s protection from divination was now also unfortunately obvious - he had been recruited by the team to go stop the supposed end of the world.

This was going to get messy. It would be impossible to take out the Shadowhand without alerting Bren to their presence. How could they convince Bren to work alongside them to expose Trent if they ended up in battle against him? “Scheiße,” she hissed, Wulf growling in agreement.

She wondered what the Shadowhand would be getting in return for his assistance. Protection from the assassins hot on his trail? Yes, but surely this master manipulator would have gotten more out of the deal than that. The drow had fooled his entire country, betrayed his own religion, just for the sake of some arcane research.

She smirked, jaw clicking into place. That’s it. He’s a traitor to his own nation. Make him confess to it, surely Bren would want him dead as well after learning their ally was a conspirator with the Assembly, had stolen the beacons his group worked so hard to return to the Kryn. They could still make this work, and come out of Eiselcross both having completed their current mission and securing Bren, all of them, as allies in their next.

Wulf growled again, pulling her from her thoughts. Looking back at the Shadowhand, he had fallen in line with Bren and was conversing while they pressed onward, taking comfort in a glowing orb he held outside his mantle. Bren had moved in shoulder to shoulder with the drow, leaning in and wrapping his hand around the drow’s forearm in a supposed bid to get closer to the source of light. His group carried on ahead of them, saying nothing as they snuck glances back towards the pair. She felt her cheek burn where Bren had previously leaned his face on hers during their waltz. Wulf was saying something but the blood pounding in her head was far too loud.

She said to me

"Oh, Death

It's way too wet on your cheeks to be nothing"

But what does she know?

Really, what does she know?

The troupe had slowed for a short rest now, and she crept closer unthinking, Wulf trailing behind her. The cold wind whipped her hood back and pulled her light locks free, carrying snips of conversation back to them. “The- I’m sorry, the lesbians?”

“Yes, Yasha there and Expositor Lionett. They’re quite capable on the frontline, and often I find the best means of dealing damage to the enemy is through enhancing their abilities and staying out of sight. So ja, buff the lesbians.” Concluding with a pat on the Kryn’s forearm, Bren appeared to finally spot his hand’s location and jolt back, sheepish grin mirroring one she had not seen for years since she caught him and Wulf outside her dormitory door with a bottle of whisky and a proposal. That pink tint to his cheeks is visible from here, betraying his intentions so plainly. Betraying them. Betraying her.

“I- I see. Any other... tips I should be aware of?” the Shadowhand had asked, looking to the rest of the group and quickly pulling the orb back towards himself once Bren had released him, before thinking and proffering it to the others. Her own cheek stung still. To her side, Wulf reached over and too-gently touched it, rubbing away a layer of ice built up. The half-orc sat up from his resting point across from them, putting his hands towards the orb without any comment on the pair’s previous position.

“Ah, yes - while Jester is a cleric,” he intoned, leaning towards the blue tiefling gently, “try to go unconscious near Caduceus.”

“Fjord!”

“What?! You prefer a more… proactive approach to battle!”

Soothing with a hand on her shoulder, the gray firbolg also leans in and places a teapot atop the orb. “The Wildmother is interested in preserving the natural cycle of life, and if it is not your time, She will not let you pass. At least, not while I have anything to say about it.”

Bren had pulled away now, eyes softening as he looked between the drow and the rest of the group. She drew a wire from her pocket and she took a breath, steeling herself before casting Sending once more.

“Bren.” He stiffened stick-straight. “Do not be alarmed. Wulf and I are approaching your position.” She paused. “Just us. We wish to speak.” She does not trust herself to use the remaining words without stumbling.

“Caleb? Trent again? Or...” The Cobalt Soul expositor perked up, but Bren had lifted a hand to her and shook his head.

“Astrid.” Came clear into her mind as she heard the monk curse in the distance. “If it is just the two of you, please approach. I’m sure our company raises questions.” A pause of his own. “You could have told Jester you were here.”

Overlapping Bren’s voice, Wulf whispers, “What are you doing?” but she’s already stood tall and pushed her hair from her eyes.

“Just trust me.”

Oh, I- I- I- I- I never wanted it to be this way

Oh, you know I- I- I- I hold on to everything you say

“Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, Essek Thelyss. Please meet my, ah, associates Astrid and Eadwulf of the Dwendalian Empire.” Bren gestures. They had all stood as the Volstrucker approached, remaining in their previous circle, but the halfling had drawn her crossbow from her hip and the dark woman had also unsheathed a gleaming blade.

Careful with his words, as if his present company could be spooked like a horse, the Shadowhand spoke with low, smooth tones. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His eyes betrayed his tone, flitting towards each of Bren’s group in turn. “To what do we owe this visit?”

She smiled coolly. “There is no need for deception here, Herr Thelyss. In fact, it would benefit us all to be forthright. You needn’t pretend this is our first encounter.”

These words should have shook the Kryn to the core, so blunt and expository, the jaws of her trap slowly ratcheting open. His demeanor had not shifted, however, as Bren glanced between the two. “Fair enough, Madam Beck.” The Nein jumped slightly at this, far more than her initial reveal. Had Bren never shared her last name with his companions? “And Mister Grieve, I assume you are well?”

“Well enough in this frozen waste,” was Wulf’s gruff reply, arms crossed to the left and slightly behind her, but within her field of view.

“Then please, join our circle,“ came Bren’s voice, shaking surely due to the cold. She stepped forward at the invitation, and took the space to his other side, the halfling stepping aside but cautiously keeping a hand on the base of her crossbow. “Come now, Veth, there’s no need for that among friends.” Wulf stepped through the circle, taking a position next to the firbolg he liked so much during that dinner before. “We have plenty to share, and I’m sure they do as well.”

Bren always had such a way with words, she thought. Certainly better than Wulf, a perfect voice to tug at one’s heartstrings. He could say so much with so little. If there is any love left between us, cursing his words as they came back to her. Perhaps he was even greater a manipulator than the spymaster to his right. Plenty of love was left, it seemed, but how much belonged to her?

“Ohmigosh Astrid, we are so happy to see you! Why didn’t you say you were close before? We could have been traveling together this whole time!“ the tiefling bubbled, a little too enthusiastically. She was no fool.

“My apologies, Jester.” She gave another cool smile, then directed her gaze around Bren to settle on the drow once more. “There were matters we had to confirm before we could make our presence known to you and Bren.” He stiffened alongside Bren, glancing down at the other wizard with a question in his eyes, and her smile turned slightly more predatory. “Herr Thelyss, might I inquire as to your business in Eiselcross? Seeking additional Beacons, I presume?”

The level of confusion did not rise in the group as she expected, however. The Shadowhand’s eyes narrowed and turned back to her as she pressed further. “Had the Martinet not already promised to share our research?”

“Astrid.”

Bren stepped forward, blocking her line of sight to the Kryn.

“Caleb, please.” A dark hand touched his shoulder (how dare he, her fingers twitched), pushing the man back towards his previous position. “Madam Beck,” he continued, “your insinuations would be quite dangerous in almost any circle but this one.” His shoulders back, he lifted slightly higher off the ground. “I am not interested in being toyed with. Clearly you were sent to dispose of me, so go ahead. Complete your business. But do not waste my friends’ time with your attempts to reveal that which is no longer concealed from them.”

He knew? Bren fucking knew? They all knew what this man had done and walked out into a frozen hellhole with him? Showed him trust, and affection of all things? Her mind swam, staring her target in his face as she searched for any fracture, any sign of weakness. He can’t possibly have told them everything. How could they forgive him for starting the war they had foolishly pledged to end on their own? How could Bren trust him, but not-

“It’s true, Astrid.” Bren said softly in that verdammt voice. “We caught on before the peace talks out at sea. Lord Dezran Thain,” he gave the honorific a teasing lilt, “was a bit too careless. He should not have chosen to be a lord in a city in which he did not know of its main attraction.” He smiled towards Jester.

“Yeah, I don’t know of a single person from Nicodranas who doesn’t know my mamma. Sorry Essek,” she winked at him. He gave an awkward smile in response. Silence hung over the group for a moment.

Wulf finally piped up again. “Well, you’re correct that we were here to kill the Shadowhand.” The group quickly tightened at his words, apart from the firbolg who still stood beside him casually, focused on making tea in that pot on top of the orb. “But... how we do that now is a mystery to me.” His lazy glance cast over her, then Bren, then narrowing briefly on the traitor. He gave a shrug as he unceremoniously sat in the snow. “So let’s talk.”

“Yes, I think there’s much to discuss,” the firbolg said, pulling the now-warm pot from the orb and beginning to pour cups. He smiled towards her sympathetically, somehow looking through her and reaching across the circle with a mug before sitting back and offering another to Wulf. She took it delicately, glancing at the pattern of soft petals on a dark branch.

As the other cups were passed out and the group slowly sat back down, Wulf popped open his flask and poured his whisky into the cup until it reached the brim, then capped it and flicked it across the circle to her. Barely looking up from the cup, she caught the flask mid-air with practiced precision, choosing to take a swig from it directly rather than sullying the tea. A calloused hand with blackened fingertips entered her view from the left as she tilted her head back down. Requesting, but not demanding. Too kind, too tender, and it made her heart ache as the liquor burned her throat. Not meeting his eyes, she passed the flask along.

“Prost.”

Oh, k- k- k- k- k- keep your pity to yourself

Oh, I'll make you wish that you didn't love someone else

[mortiaddams13]

Peridot is Canonically AroAce, stop shipping her with people non platonically

After the Premiere of "In Dreams" in Steven Universe Future, storyboard artist Maya Peterson said that Peridot is the ace and aro rep of Steven Universe.

So why is everyone acting like if Rebecca Sugr didn't say it herself it isn't canon? Zuke, ALSO a previous Steven Universe Storyboarder was outspoken a lot on Twitter saying how he wanted Amedot or Lapidot to become a thing, and later he left the Steven Universe team, specifically because he and Rebecca had creative differences over SPECIFICALLY Peridot's orientation. So clearly Rebecca Sugar is aware of her teams views of the show, especially since they all have to work together very closely during the entire shows and movie, Rebecca is active on social media, and has done nothing to say that Peridot is not aromantic or asexual. And one of her crew members clearly said it was canon.

So I don't understand why everyone seems to love erasing her identity by shipping her with Amethyst or with Lapis. She. Is. Aro. Ace. You saying it's "just the storyboarder who said it not the creator, it isn't canon" is erasure. I'm greyromantic and asexual, I LOVE the representation because we barely get ANY so why should you be allowed to erase an aroace persons identity but the entire She-ra fandom implodes if you ship Bow and Adora? Because Adora is CANONICALLY a lesbian. And shipping her with a guy is erasure as well. So if you don't ship Garnet with a guy why can you ship Peridot romantically with someone else?

If I had known what asexuality was by seeing myself represented in a mainstream kids show it would have saved me so much physical and emotional pain, 2 incredibly toxic relationships, and a lot of compulsive heteronormativity.

STOP. ERASING. A. CHARACTERS. ORIENTATION.

[carmen-rmit]

THE EYE WRITER AND TEMPT1 

(TUESDAY 2ND JUNE 2020)

The concept of the Eye Writer is just so fascinating to me. 

Of course, I’ve seen machines controlled through eye movement before, mainly for communication purposes, but drawing....this is just a whole other thing!

The Eye Writer is an invention that uses inexpensive cameras and freely-available software to track the wearer’s eye movements. It was developed by Mick Ebeling as well as artists, engineers and hackers from the Free Art Technology Lab, Graffiti Research Lab and OpenFrameworks teams, including Evan Roth, James Powderly, Theo Watson, Chris Sugre and Zachary Lieberman. The project was originally designed to allow the paralysed graffiti artist, Tempt1, to draw again. 

The team behind the Eye Writer’s, were also able to project his images on to the side of buildings, not only allowing Tempt the ability to draw, but to see his work once again on the street’s canvas. In a later email, Tempt wrote to Ebeling saying, 

“That was the first time I’ve drawn anything in seven years. I feel like I had been held underwater, and someone finally reached down and pulled my head up so I could take a breath.”

The invention has been recognised internationally and has received numerous awards including the 2010 Prix Ars Electronica and the 2010 FutureEverything Award. TIME also listed the Eye Writer as one of the Top 50 inventions of 2010, and was featured in the CREAM International Festival for Arts and Media in Yokohama in 2009 and the ‘Talk to Me’ exhibit at MoMA in 2011. Mick Ebeling presented a TED talk in 2013 about the product, but has appeared on other occasions discussing other projects by his Not Impossible group. 

I don’t even know what to say about this. I’m just so happy that this is where both people and technology has gotten us. 

Images References:

https://blog.p2pfoundation.net/eye-writer-a-creative-solution-for-people-suffering-from-als/2010/01/25

https://www.instructables.com/id/The-EyeWriter/ 

Video References: 

[myrosalee-blog1]

Code: SugarBaby

Agent: Rosa Lee

After getting to know Chet Berry, who now I know as God father, I realized that I was indeed ready to be a sugr baby. I mean I didn't have a boyfriend anymore. He was too busy boning my half sister Veronica for me to be his sucker anymore and I was living on my friends couch and even though her string of sugar daddies had her living like the frickin Queen of England, I wanted my own place. I wanted to be my own woman.  

Godfather, aka Mr. Berry, explained to me that he and his wife (whom he met as his sugar baby way back in the 60's) took me through the history of Sugar baby inc. Sugar baby inc was opened in 1975 to connect rich men to their “arm candy”, the company gets a very small “finder fee” sometimes even up to an hundred grand for the mans exstensive preferences. Some like kinky women who pretended to be their maids when the wife was home, but when she wasn't the real maids came in and she would pretend to be the wife. Some like BDSM, others were couples who loved to fuck a younger woman or watched as the other fucked the other woman. Since I was new I didn't have a set preference and because I was “the baby” I didn't have an agency profile.

This is where things get weird, all the girls were like secret agents in a way. We were supposed to report if we thought there was another sugar baby from a different company in the area, and if she can blow our cover and expose our Sugar sponser and cause a problem. We had this team of “Cover babies.” which were like the mercenary squad of sugar babies. If we could delay the target until the team arrived it is like a win win, but if we couldn't well shit, it meant relocation on the first offense, second offense...Well he said we would talk about it later.

One morning Godfather called me on my “baby phone” which was an Iphone 8 (they loved iphones because it helped track girls easier than any other phone.) I got told I was matched to a Sugar daddy named Marco. Marco was a 25 year old, son of some ambassador, and every month he got 8 figures just to stay out of trouble. His family had old money. I mean money that had been tied in the hands of his family since Washington was a president. I mean their money was so long, I could take a trip around the world 8 times a day and still he would be fucking rich.

Of course I said yes, I mean who turns down a hot young sugar daddy their first time around. I mean I was 22, no job, no house and now I am a sugar baby. How much dignity could a bitch really have. So I was told to get my ticket to Barcelona from the office and my new passport as well. I was like wait, pause really? But there wasn't an argument there. He refused to do anything in the states, and he was supposed to be in Barcelona for a business Merger, but you know how the rich are. They cannot go anywhere without having an affair.

So packing what all I had in decent clothing, I was off to the office. When I get there, there is Godfather had me escourted to his office. He was standing next to a louis vuitton roll around bag and a louis vuitton carry on bag. I was like shit God dad that looks fucking awesome. He just smiled and basically was like these are yours baby girl. A gift to all my babies when they get their over seas trip. The other bags I got you in transport to your home. I was dumbfounded like wtf god dad. He was like what it was 12 piece set, what else was I supposed to do? I could only just sit there with my big ass mouth open like wtf. I mean I had to give him an 9.9 out of ten for his fucking awesomeness. Then I felt a hand on my back. I turned suddenly and I seen Mrs. Berry aka God ma behind me with one hand on my back and another behind her back and her big ass smile on her face. I was curious on why she was smiling. But before I could ask she whips out this gorgeous louis vuitton purse and wallet to match the fuck. All this louis vuitton had to cost my old rent, eletricity bill, and cable bill in a month. Like it cost more than anything I ever seen. And I nearly fainted. She said I picked out all the bags and the clothes in the bags for you. I didn't even know that they bought me clothes. Before I could say anything else they were burning all my old clothes in the office fireplace. I was glad I didn't put my favorite nighty in there but they made some statement about how I was getting rid of the old me and onto my new life....

And then they made me go to the changing station where they got me all dolled up and pushed me out into a limo and off to the airport...Fuck...I'm tired to argue. I want to just see if this will make or break me as a sugar baby. On to Marco here I come... @mosecr3tzentertainment @momosecr3tz @jinxbefresh @ravensspace @kenikenilife @kiingreapa @myrexylove @solitaryimvu @wrath115 @ebonysandman @ebonysandman @imvulicious @mollyvu @graphixme @bvdbvrbi3 @hamartiaxo @miss-marijuana-mayham @hologramsimvu @omniavanitasimvu @outlaw-acez

[team-sugr]

Doodles of the rest of the team. Designs and stuff are subject to change.

[ask-team-clst]

teamsugr wanted a starter

Tsubaki spun around and nearly dropped the hairbrush she was using as a microphone. She could’ve sworn the door was locked before she started singing.

“U-um... C-can I help you?”

[spitfirerose]

RWBY OC: Gwenna Hearthspring

Member #3 of SUGR. “G” has changed a ton since the start of the team idea.

Gwenna Hearthspring: A seventeen year old female and sole human of the team. Gwenna is quite shy and timid at first, complying to whatever anyone says and tries not to be a burden to others. She’s enrolled at Beacon to be a Huntress, but is poor at combat. It’s hinted that she was accepted because of the Headmaster (like Ruby was), but she doesn’t know why. Gwenna uses twin tonfa that double as guns, utilizing different dust clips located on the back of her belt. Her semblance is dubbed the ‘Maiden’s Eye’, an ability that allows her to hit her target even if it has moved since firing. She can manipulate the bullet’s path with her eyes, but this can backfire if she looks at a teammate whilst using it.

Ironically, she is a Maiden, too.

Gwenna was born in a small village, her mother a Huntress and father a gardener. There were always flowers around. Things were always so nice.

But then the Grimm happened, and that wasn’t very nice. She doesn’t remember much after that, and was taken in at a nearby town’s Orphanage, known as the very shy and quiet girl who was fixated with flowers, as that’s all she really can remember of home. Little Gwenna tended to wander off, wanting to go back home though she didn’t know where it was. Time after time, she’s harshly told that the village is gone, and if she keeps acting like she is, that no one will adopt her.

Hana, the current Spring Maiden, and young Ardilla arrive at the town, here to help however they can before passing through, requesting that for their safety, that no one mention them. Hana reminds Gwenna of home, and of her mother by how kind she is. Like Ardi, the Spring Maiden sees potential in her, and so she asks the pure soul if she wishes to leave this place.

She does. The Orphanage easily forgets her face.

They reach the ruins of Gwenna’s home village next, and while she doesn’t find the remains of her parents, she does come across her mother’s weapons, the twin tonfa. Hana promises that she’ll teach her how to use them when she gets older, if she so wishes. Ardi is trusted to look after their newest member as Hana summons flowers for unmarked graves as a sort of Sending to the lost souls.

Along the way, they all bond with one another, and Hana asks them what they would do with great power. They’d use it to protect each other and be kind, and Hana foreshadows that she wishes she could see it. Because she knows she won’t. They’re being tracked by Salem’s minions, and their time together is running short. They’ve been together for about a year, Ardi a month longer. The girls get along pretty well, with Ardilla being the more adventurous and chatty, and Gwenna shyly hiding behind her. They’re like sisters.

The trio travels throughout Remnant. They reach ‘Mother Goose’s Tales’, a traveling theater of performers that strive to bring light to a dark world. The Maidens’ Tale is their most popular story. Hana, ironically, played the role of Spring, and was the best. Analise, Annie, a dashing rabbit faunus, runs the troupe, and calls Hana ‘Rosie’. They have history. Hana requests that Annie look after the girls, as she has business to attend to, and she won’t be returning. Annie calls her out that she can’t do this, just showing up only to leave again.

Hana leaves in the middle of the night, and Gwenna follows her. She worries because Hana leaves her bag behind. Gwenna takes both hers and Hana’s.

Hana confronts those that have been tracking them all this time. She knew they were close by, and it’s now that she deals with them. The two children, those she has chosen as her successors, are safe with the troupe that will be moving come morning. The Spring Maiden will hold these monsters off and hold nothing back.

Except Gwenna is there, hiding beneath brush and witnessing this go down. Hana is pinned beneath one of them, and it’s then that she sees her. Gwenna’s name is shrieked, a warning for the girl to run.

Hana is slain in that next second.

Gwenna’s gifted her powers, being her last thoughts.

She screams with grief, and everything is consumed by furious mother nature. All that Deus Ex Machina goodness. Stricken with loss and fear, Gwenna is too afraid to go back to the Troupe because she thinks this all her fault. She pulls a Simba, hearing voices in her head telling her to run.

Hana’s body turns into a mass of flowers. Roses.

Since no one knows that Hana was killed, Salem probably just thinks her minions fucked up. Gwenna is safe, for the moment, and continues running away and hiding, afraid of her new power that she suppresses. She survives off of what rations were in the bags, and fumbles to use her mother's weapons. She's saved a lot by passing Hunters and Huntresses, and is reminded of Hana saying to protect others. She knows she's not strong enough, and so she goes to Beacon. Completely inexperienced and totally unqualified, she performs terribly at registration. The lowest of low scores, and makes a fool of herself despite trying her best.

Ozpin knows what she is, because he knows everything, and has her accepted into the school regardless, much to Glynda's disapproval. Gwenna is quite literally launched in. It's not until much, much later does Oz explain why he let her in, and that he knows she’s a Maiden--which she didn’t even really know, because no one bothered to fill her in on where her power came from. Like literally almost two school years? Ozpin, the fuck. It’s like you just threw this plotline in last second. And even then, she’s told that she’s getting transferred to Atlas, as bad guys are afoot in the school and it’s no longer safe for her here. Gwenna begs to stay until the Festival is over, as she doesn’t want to leave her team just yet, can’t bring herself to say goodbye. He allows this, warning that the longer she takes, the harder it will become to leave. She can’t tell them why she has to go, or her secret identity. Then Ardilla shows up, and things get more complicated.

But that’s all future stuff. Back to Team Building.

After recovering from her landing strategy, or rather lack thereof, Gwenna comes across Renari. He is immediately unimpressed, and completely abandons her seconds later, as it’s clear she can’t do jack against a few meager Beowolves. Suddenly alone, she uses a tree to hide behind when Sven comes to the rescue, taking out the Grimm with ease. He knows she’s there with his faunus hearing, and says that it’s safe to come out now. Gwenna comments that he’s strong, and now that they’ve made eye contact, he acknowledges that they’re partners now, yes? Her previous partner of five seconds has abandoned her, so she nods in agreement, feeling more at ease with him than that mean guy. Being the Maiden of Spring, the forest and its flowers whisper to her where the goal is, and so she uses this to guide them. He just thinks she’s really good with directions, and trusts her completely, boosting her poor confidence.

They make for a good pair, and to her worry, is paired back up with Renari and a very bubbly, excitable girl. The fox is incredibly mean to her, whereas Una is superbly nice.

When they train as a team, Renari belittles her, scoffing at her incompetence and that she shouldn’t be here. Her existence generally pisses him off, even though she is kind and tries too much to be helpful. It’s not that he hates her personally, but rather that she is at an Academy to be a Huntress, but can’t even do the basics or knows anything at all. Una defends her, as he’s being really mean to her regardless if she...isn’t as good a fighter. There’s an incident in a training simulation that reminds her of Hana’s last moments, and Gwenna straight up panics and flees the room. Renari has had enough and lets it be known, and Sven informs him that he’s just as bad. He’s not helping at all. Teammates help another, and he’s been nothing but an ass to this girl.

Sven finds her and has her breath to calm down. Her immediate words are that she’s sorry about what happened, as Una had been in peril, to which he replies that she’ll be okay. He’s here for her. She wants to be here, wants to be a Huntress, but never learned how to use her weapons, and she can’t talk much about her past without crying again. So. Sven chooses to focus on that, offering to teach her how to use the tonfa guns.

With the much needed one-on-one time, Gwenna learns. Her semblance kicks in, and she’s actually a pretty good shot. If she can see her target, she can hit it. Also her teammates if she gets distracted and they end up in her vision. It requires concentration and lots of breathing to keep calm and focused. Gwenna also picks up on self-defense, able to defend some attacks with the tonfa. If Sven is unavailable, Renari takes over training. It’s good practice for her, as he can mimic about any weapon, adding to her range of how to deflect attacks. Though he’s not about to give up his grumpiness, he does admit that she’s improved. He’s not as much of an ass.

Misc. Facts: Una uses Gwenna to win prizes at the Festival. Anything involving shooting a moving target. Gwenna does a lot of shopping for supplies on her own, as she doesn’t want to be a bother to the others. She has frequent nightmares about Hana and those minions finding her. Flowers always perk up around her, reading her moods. Ren is lowkey jealous that the plants in her room are livelier than his. Conveniently, her eyes flash green when no one is looking, and she panics whenever someone mentions them, though they’re referring to her semblance. They’re violet! Always have been! During the Festival, she had recorded messages for her team and Ardi on her scroll, as she knew she wouldn’t be able to say goodbye directly. However, Beacon falls and they find her scroll, but no Gwenna. Where has she gone?

[spitfirerose]

RWBY OC: Sven Ursajor

Says she doesn’t care about RWBY but here she is with OCs.

Don’t mind me, just posting some stuff on my characters since it’s about time that I did. It’s just one for now, but I’mma do the whole team. @reduxroyal and @nerdgasrnz ‘cause of that OC love, and it’s nice to share. I wanna be a cool kid too

Sven Ursajor: A seventeen year-old male with a prosthetic right arm and gifted the semblance of ‘Ursa Major’, an ability that grants him strength if allies are in peril, sort of like Yang’s rage button. His bear faunus trait can be seen as the two small ears in his permanent bedhead, so hidden from sight that others often mistake him as human. Sven is the leader of Team SUGR, and takes his role very seriously. His weapon is his metal arm, infused with different types of dusts that allows him to fire attacks, as well as getting close and personal with punches and claws. It’s pretty effective to block with. He’s armed with a brass knuckle on the other, adding ‘oomph’ to those hits. 

His parents, both faunus, were killed in a work incident at the Schnee Dust Company’s factory, though one could easily blame it on their poor treatment of workers and unsafe conditions. Orphaned at a young age, Sven was taken in by the local White Fang, years before the particular faction turned to violence. Being a kindhearted and strong boy, he would look out for the youngest members, as they were often targeted by cruel humans. Never would he fight back, merely protecting them and taking beatings meant for the easy targets. He meets Blake during an incident where a bookstore window had caught her eye, as well as the attention of unruly patrons and owner. They’re rescued by members of their group once the damage is done, Sven shielding the cat faunus, and one of them, Adam, makes a comment that nonviolence ain’t doin’ shit.

Their community resides in the outskirts of Mountain Glenn, Vale’s failed attempt at expansion and crawling with Grimm, preferring to deal with the looming threat of the dark beasts rather than humans. Rumors are spread amongst the children that there’s a monster around that’s stealing things, and is too quick to catch, always managing to slip away. Sven, being the oldest and therefore bravest of the lot, is requested to investigate. It would turn out that this ‘monster’ is no monster at all, simply a very hungry, and very wild, little raccoon faunus girl. A sole survivor of the horror of Mountain Glenn, Una has been on her own for quite some time, and is coaxed out of her tree by Sven’s offer of food. From there, the pair is practically inseparable, Una trusting Sven with her life.

As years go by, so does the restlessness in the White Fang with the change of leaders. Sven is caught up in the gradual changes, assured by new orders that he’s helping keep the younger faunus safe as always. They become more militaristic, more assertive. Sven grew up with the old White Fang, he knows what they’re doing---what he’s being ordered to do--isn’t right. He’s thrown into the ring, thrown into a world of war when all he wanted was peace. He’s trained to become a leader, much like Adam, but complete opposite of the ruthless man. Adam sees his grunts as just that, easily sacrificing them to obtain his goals, whereas Sven cares for teammates and fights alongside them as equals. They’re both sent on missions to steal stuff, and Sven often returns to base injured.

One night, Una asks if what they’re doing is right. Humans are afraid of them. He’s always getting hurt, more than before. He doesn’t know what to answer. She admits that Adam scares her, to which he...can’t disagree. However, she overcomes this fear as she goes to him to become a fighter, her desire to help Sven greater than her uneasiness. She’s being thrown into a dangerous lifestyle, but accepts the risks. It’s kept secret until his latest mission briefing when she’s amongst his assigned team. This hurts Sven more than she’ll ever know, and his resolve to get them out of the White Fang has increased.

Adam knows damn well that it’s a trap, but what better way to motivate their cause by sacrificing a few valued lives? Unbeknownst to Sven and Una and crew, they’re being sent to an untimely demise.

It was just supposed to be a rescue mission. Find the faunus worker hostages in the confines of the Dust Factory, save them, and get out, preferably undetected all the while.

Except there are no hostages, there’s no saving anyone, there’s no getting out, and they’re so detected.

As a wise dude once said, it’s a trap. An ambush, really, and having a giant battle in the middle of a Dust Factory, that’s, y’know, sensitive and highly likely to combust and shit? Things go from 0 to 100 in seconds. There’s a massive explosion and just about everyone dies and/or is dying. It sucks.

Una has lost her legs from having tried to save Sven, and he’s missing an arm. By the power of his semblance (and Deus Ex Machina), does he manage to get them out of there and to home base. Adam plays it off that Humans are dicks and look at their brave sacrifices to their cause, earning many a rallying cry. Sven gets the wakeup call that the White Fang is dangerous and now would be the time to get the fuck out. Where do they get the prosthetics for Sven and Una?? They have connections. No matter, as Adam implies that once they’re all settled into recuperating, that they can rejoin the fight. Yay, propaganda and junk.

Sven waits the second that Una can take her first steps, and they get the hell out of dodge. They go into hiding, and like Blake, default to Beacon Academy as students, and totally not ex-members of the White Fang. It takes a lot of convincing to get Una enrolled, as she is a few years younger. They refuse to be separated. When the rumor comes out do they is (ex) White Fang, Sven doesn’t care what they do to him as long as they keep Una in the school. The guy is riddled with guilt about what’s happened to her.

They do the “Landing Strategy and Team Building” thing. Sven meets a Gwenna. Gwenna is nice and seems to know just where to go, but she can’t fight for jackshit. Luckily, Sven can. He’s nice to her, unlike a certain asshole fox, and accepts that they’re teammates now. It’s not that big a deal to him that she shies from fighting, and encourages her strengths in navigating as he doesn’t know where the relics are. They’re a pretty good team. Small talk is small, as he’s not much for conversation, and she’s timid as hell.

By luck, they’re teamed up with Una and her new partner, Renari, aka Asshole Fox. Team SUGR is formed. Sven is up to the task to keep his team safe, determined to make them all a fine team. Gotta find out what makes them all tick and strategize accordingly. He’s easily the best leader around, and a mentor figure to his teammates. If they get hurt, he’s there to back them up. So much as a cough, and they’re not getting out of bed. He is mama bear.

Little misc. Facts: His hair always looks like he just rolled out of bed. He could probably hibernate in winter if he wanted. He’s always on the lookout for stickers for Una to decorate her legs with. He teaches Gwenna how to fight with her weapons properly, not judging at all. A good, supportive guy. Sven calls Renari out on him being a pain, telling a story of someone he once knew that went nuts with wanting power, White Fang Adam. Being strong isn’t everything. They’re all a team, and are only strong when working together, not belittling their members. He and Una are an unstoppable duo in combat, in sync with another and not needing words.

[spitfirerose]

RWBY OC: Una Racuna

Introducing member #2 of SUGR

Una Racuna: Around thirteen years old, Una is a raccoon faunus girl with both adorable ears and bushy tail. Both her legs are prosthetics from an...incident, and are often adorned with colorful stickers because the metallic gray is boring. She has vitiligo, a skin condition that gives her her unique look. Her semblance allows her to alter her center of gravity, enabling her to be quite acrobatic and a nuisance to hit or catch. Basically says ‘screw you’ to physics and balancing, shifting her weight however, whenever. Una is bright, cheery, and quick to make light of a situation, often not taking matters as seriously. When serious, you won’t hear a word from her as she gives all she has. Una holds an air of naivety, but catches more than she lets on. While her legs do function as weapons, she also has retractable claw gauntlets on each wrist. The girl is 90% weapon, given how small she is. To be fair for later plot points, her real name isn't Una, but that's what the wild six year old tells Sven. So. Una it is. She made up her last name, too, as she needed one for filling out Beacon’s registration. It rhymes with her first name, is like ‘Raccoon’, and it's fun to say.

Una’s father, Usagi Luna, worked at the family bakery dubbed “Bun In The Oven”, running it by himself as he is all that is left. One day, a wandering traveler by the name of Aeris Flannel comes in, and the rest is history. The rabbit and the ram fall in love, and a raccoon is conceived because that’s apparently how faunus genetics work according to canon.

They’re also helped out by a human mother, Sylvie, and her two fox faunus children, Sylvette and Renargent, having been seeking a better life from where they had once been. They all live together in the bakery’s upper loft, and things are pretty nice.

But then everything changed when the humans attacked, wanting to take all faunus and relocate them to Menagerie. Una is barely three, and is sobbing while Usagi and Aeris try to keep calm. Renari, however, is not calm. He comes out of hiding, Sylvie having begged for him and Sylvette to keep away until the officers had left. Usagi replies that the boy is theirs when demanded whose he is in order to protect them all. The four are taken.

Aeris knows they’re passing Mountain Glenn, and has Renari sneak out with Una. She has human family there, they can look after her daughter and he can get back home to his mother because plot says so. So he does what he’s told, and Una is safely taken to her aunt’s. However, Mountain Glenn falls to shit not long after, and Renari isn’t strong enough to find out where she’s gone with Grimm everywhere. He makes it back to the bakery, where Sylvie is so grateful to have him safe and sound. The news of Mountain Glenn’s demise and reports of no survivors reaches Menagerie, breaking Aeris and Usagi’s hearts.

Meanwhile, Una is just barely making it with other survivors. Her semblance and faunus instincts kick in, and she’s all that’s left at six years old. She hides in trees, afraid to be on the ground for long since that’s where most the Grimm are. Nevermores terrify her. The White Fang move in, and little Una swipes their shit. Sven finds her, and she follows him like a close shadow. She’s cleaned up, and learns all sorts of things, mainly how not to act like a feral child. She’s pretty shy and quiet, though that quickly fades as she gets comfortable. Soon she's all giggles and chattering with whoever.

Where you find Sven, Una is right there. She knows every member by name, and finds them all to be like a family to her. As years go by, she notices how humans have gone from treating her with disgust, to backing away in fear. Adam’s behavior frightens her. She knows something isn’t right, and Sven is often away on missions, and is always hurt. Una becomes determined to help Sven is any way that she can, and so she goes to Adam, wishing for him to train her to become strong. She’s small, a child, and has no real combat experience. He claims he’ll only train her if she can evade getting hit by his guards, and she succeeds by her semblance. Others will see her as but a helpless faunus child, and he intends to use that to their advantage as she obtains her claws. She’s used to deceive humans, and small size used to infiltrate bases. Una fights only when she has too, as she’s still just a kid. It’s a quick lesson that she must if she wants to survive. Schnees don’t give a shit that she’s smol.

Una keeps it a secret from Sven, not wanting him to worry about her, as she’s worried about him. They’re assigned to the same mission, and it’s too late to do anything. She tells him not to be mad, that this was all her choice though he knows that Adam is behind this.

The mission goes to hell, and she almost dies, calling for Sven with choked cries. He tries to keep her awake, as she’s just barely hanging on with what little aura she has left. She passes out, and his semblance has him go berserk, all that Deus ex Machina.

Una is silent. Reserved. All the life she'd always been thriving with is gone as she's confined to a bed. Her legs are gone, and things are pretty dark. She’s very sensitive to loud noises, and immediately looks for Sven in a panic. Once she gets her prosthetics and is able to leave the bed, there’s no stopping her. Una’s world becomes brighter again. She’s moving forward.

Adam visits and mentions that the two can get back to fighting once they’ve recovered. Una is terrified. They almost died, and Adam isn’t one to deny an order from.

She’s awoken in the middle of the night by Sven, bags packed and ready to get them both the fuck out. And so the fuck out they go.

They’ve done terrible things in the White Fang. They see becoming Hunters as a way to atone for that, and Beacon seems like the best place to go. Being free from WF influence, Una is allowed to live a lot more, like they have actual meals?? There’s no masks?? Showers?? It’s all pretty mind blowing. No wonder she’s all happy and smiley and having a great time. Everything is so amazing!! Everyone thinks she has to be someone’s lil sister because there’s no way this thirteen year-old is here to be a student.

But lowkey Una worries she won’t get paired with Sven. At all.

She has a blast when blasted off the launch pad. Renari makes eye-contact with her when he feels something trying to touch the back of his fox ears. It was a weird impulse, she doesn’t know why she wanted to. Like, yeah, she’s disappointed he’s not Sven, and he’s irritated to be paired with her (he just ditched the last person), but they need to make the best of it!! They take out some Grimm and Renari concedes just a bit. She’ll do, he supposes, and hopes the rest the team won’t be shit. Una is so excited to learn who their teammates are going to be!!

She’s so relieved to be with Sven--he’s leader, yay!--, and she welcomes Gwenna to the group, totally oblivious to how Renari glares at the new girl.

Gwenna thinks of her as a little sister, so incredibly bubbly and dragging Gwenna to go do fun stuff. All that good female teammate bonding stuff. Una’s so good and strong, and they have such great moments. They spend some nights just relaxing on the roof, watching the stars and talking. During the Festival, Gwenna starts acting weird. Distant.

Gwenna asks what Una would do if she had amazing power, to which she replies that she’d use it to protect her friends. It’s reminiscent to when Hana had asked her the same thing. Una becomes pretty attached to her, thinking of her like a big sister. Given that Una hasn't really bonded with anyone except Sven, she truly does believe her team to be like her family. She refuses to leave them behind when things get tough.

The same goes for Blake, giving the cat faunus a heart attack at throwing herself at her, ecstatic to see her again as she had never returned from her last mission with Adam. She has to smother Una’s mouth with a hand before accidentally revealing her secret beneath the bow. She’s the one that goes in search of Blake when it’s discovered that the White Fang have invaded Beacon as well, and has difficulty fighting its members. After all this time, she still knows their names and everything about them--she can’t.

Neither can some of them.

Renari makes the connection of who she really is, and her parents watch the Tournament from Menagerie, instantly recognizing their daughter. He asks Una if there’s anything she remembers about them, and he surprises her with the opportunity to meet them--well, via the CCT. He pulled a lot of strings for this, and it’s really thanks to Blake. Una only gets to see them for a minute, before Cinder’s keikaku severs the connection, and everything goes dark. Beacon is falling, and her parents fear that they’re losing her again. Stuff happens, and the team, minus Gwenna the fuck did she go?!, plus Ardilla, make it to “Bun In The Oven”. Sylvie fills her in on the place and all their history, proud yet saddened to see how the girl has grown, even more so at the shit that just happened. Una takes over as leader, and while she’d love to go to Menagerie and meet her parents, she knows that if she does, she won’t want to leave them. Their journey is far from over, but maybe someday...

Misc. Facts: She doesn’t sleep in her bed, having instead made a hammock in a corner ceiling of the room. Nice and cozy like a tree. Cardin tried to pick on her once and mocked that she had a ‘nice’ tail, to which she cheerfully replied that she thought it was cute, too! His cronies are wise enough to not try anything--have you seen Sven and Renari?! Una’s probably kicked his ass in sparring, unintentionally humiliating him as he couldn’t even land a hit as she served him. That being said, she’s a glass cannon. The smol can only bounce back up so many times from heavy attacks. She’s enthusiastic in just about everything she does, but gets antsy at sitting still during lectures. Often chills up on Sven’s shoulders, and falls asleep wherever. Drags her teammates on adventures. Cheers on her opponents, encouraging them to do their best, which either pisses them off or wishes her the same. Unless they’re bad guys, then no nice things. 

[spitfirerose]

Mission briefings are a fun time. Based off our beautiful blue paladin son http://gayvoltron.tumblr.com/post/156138636496/im-crying-real-tears