#ROME ASKED ROME ASKED ROME ASKED ROME ASKED TOT

[ysaefinn]

Because I’m nosy and I love you and suguru together so<3

batiste 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ what’s a small, lingering memory that clings to your heart?

oilcloth 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ how do you show care when words are hard to find?

mohair 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ what makes loving them feel effortless?

brocade 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ what’s something imperfect between you that you’ve come to love?

I might come back to ask about utahime and or satoru

YYYYPOUUUU AAASSKEEDDD TATATATATTATARATRARARARARRARATATATTATATATATATTATATATAT

˗ˋˏ Batiste.ᐟ.ᐟˎˊ-

Auuughh ayayayayayyayyyyy TOT usually teasing doesn't work on me but the first time he raised an eyebrow and gave me a cute little smirk before gently pinching my nose and reaching over the cabinet to grab whatever i was bouncing up and down to get to,,,,,,,mind went blank not my proudest moment but he had fun showing off his height and turning me into a tomato.

˗ˋˏ Oilcloth.ᐟ.ᐟˎˊ-

I lost the ability to know what to say long ago but still listen to the intuition <//3 actions speak louder than words but words of affirmation are very important for me to receive TAT ANYWAY!! If you're tall and firm yet squishy i will be all over you chewing and munching there's no helping this. I just plop my self on his lap and burry my face in the side of his neck, tracing his jaw is optional but he makes his breath hitch :3c just being in his vicinity puts him at ease, i also sit on him to meditate, the eagerness takes him back to the early stages of the relationship, he's just so relieved to know I'm not any less obsessed <33

˗ˋˏ Mohair.ᐟ.ᐟˎˊ-

I'm a very low maintenance person so whatever flow you set I'm just gonna adapt and go with it. The way he easily initiates so much intimacy between us and acts all casual about it is just so comforting. That and the fact that i know he would still love me the same if we were to separate right this second, there is no label that fits Suguru's love he acts like more than a boyfriend more than husband, like a soulmate that was crafted just for me, it makes trusting him come so naturally, knowing that i can comfortably be my unemployed guy self around him puts my paranoia at ease <33

˗ˋˏ Brocade.ᐟ.ᐟˎˊ-

Suguru wants everything to be perfectly organized, I can't fucking bother TvT It's something that made me think "wow we are not gonna work together at all that is such an significant part of your character neither of us will back down" but we made it work bcuz HE LIKES ME THIS WAY, watching him clean my desk and rearrange my book shelf for me without asking for the first time absolutely tormented me the guilt was incomprehensible i don't wanna be anyone's manchild husband ;n; but it was the perfect balance actually, being useful made him really really happy and visibly fulfilled I thought he was being sarcastic in a "get your shit together honey ^-^" but no he really wants to make my bed for me in the morning :"D

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

hiiii!! ive been wanting to draw apollo for some time now, but i just,, dont know what clothes hed wear ToT and i wanted to ask what youd think his style(or styles) is!!

hello!!

it’d really depends on what era Apollo you’re drawing!

for Ancient Greece, I usually go with either a chiton or a peplos, since he’s been depicted wearing both! For other options, I recommend checking out @literallyjusttoa’s blog, they do a lot of Ancient Greek Apollo art and is the Apollo I imagine during this time period!

as for canon Apollo, it really doesn’t matter, though that can make it more difficult to pick out what he would wear. In TTC, he’s very casual— white shirt, pants, and loafers. Which honestly, probably plays into his subconscious desire to appear as non-threatening as possible to the demigods (and it works).

next time we see what he’s wearing is a chiton with his golden armor after the Battle of Manhattan, where he’s wearing sunglasses too!

a little later, at CHB, he’s back in casual wear with a toga overtop.

the last two times we see Apollo before ToA is Blood of Olympus. The first on Delos, where he’s in Elvis Presley-style rhinestone jacket (…rhinestones…who else wears rhinestones— oh right the gremlin herself 👀), and the second in a CHB shirt at the Parthenon.

As for myself, and what I think he’d wear—

I do often describe him wearing a jacket. Sometimes I specify it as leather (he stole it from Ares hehe). I’m also partial to giving him boots, and if not, then shoes. In my very first fic, I think I also gave him fingerless gloves, because 1) why not; 2) they’re cool; 3) I have some; and 4) archery.

I can also see him wearing some very out-there clothes. You know that one meme of the very colorful guy and the other guy in black? They can both be Apollo if you try hard enough.

Styles I feel like he’d hate though are definitely more strait-laced ones, like what high-ranking British guys wore (I remember Apollo specifically telling us he hated those white wigs). Apollo’s always been a diverse god, so styles that have rigid rules would not appeal to him.

after all, he cross-dressed in Ancient Greece and Rome before it was cool lol he probably really enjoys trying out other cultures’ styles too, just to play around with it.

I can see the Medieval Era being his goth phase.

so I guess this all loops back to ‘whatever you want him to wear lol’ but hope this helped!! If anyone wants to add on their own headcanon go ahead!! Man’s a fashion icon, he’s very dressable <3 (oh he would def wear a dress too. and skirts. GNC icon fr)

[thejesusmaninred]

"The Kentron." From Mark 8: 11-13.

Jesus tells the people "enjoy your life" even while things are not too enjoyable. This is not acceptable to the Pharisees who want something more. This is their nature, to prompt and probe until the necessities of Jewish religious arguments are settled. Jesus sighs, perhaps the most communicative thing He can do and then He goes back to the other side, to sit at the Adult's Table:

11 The Pharisees came and began to question Jesus. To test him, they asked him for a sign from heaven.

12 He sighed deeply and said, “Why does this generation ask for a sign? Truly I tell you, no sign will be given to it.”

13 Then he left them, got back into the boat and crossed to the other side.

There was no way for the people of Rome to successfully ring in the Age of the Messiah. Jesus knew this, but like a good Jew He presses the existing culture to do its part. We are just now beginning to understand the effects of His Passages, and not too soon, the world is going tater tots and it could use some good advice.

The truth is without the internet and quantum computing, which connect every knowable thing to every other, we could not hope to accomplish the Mashiach. One wonders if it would have helped the Jews (and the rest) during the Holocaust but to no avail, that is done. It is an object lesson, one we don't want to apply over and over. Nor do we have to- we now know who and what Jesus was and the subject of the tension between us and He is closed forever.

Jesus was actually an okay fellow, He too after all was Jewish, He loved being Jewish and everyone around Him liked that about Him too. Almost everyone, except for those who did not want the Romans to stick hot pokers down their shafts and up their butts.

Jesus sighs because He senses a very Jewish contest between life and survival is the problem. He is trying to win as many people over to the side of Jewish life vs. Jewish survival as He can. Sighing nonetheless is not mentioned in the Torah, which says "God breathed life into Adam." The etymology explains more deeply why Jesus sighed:

"In the Greek classics our word σημειον (semeion) could describe anything from a marker on a border, grave or monument to a signaling flag in battle, a figurehead on shields, even a password or secret handshake and all that. In logic our word denoted a "sign" such as an example, demonstration or other such proof, and the Stoics and Epicureans used this word to describe the observable as opposed to the unobservable but deductible (the same division is made in Hebrews 11:1).

The medical profession used our word to describe representative symptoms of a certain disease. Mathematics used our word as synonym for στιγμα (stigma), or point (in the mathematical sense).

The shorter version of our word, σημα (sema), in particular was also used in the sense of a "sign from heaven" or omen or sign of portent. In that sense our word was specifically associated with the star Sirius, and while the names Simon and Simeon formally come from the Hebrew verb שמע (shama'), meaning to hear or obey, any speaker of Greek would have surely caught the association with our noun σημα (sema) and its associate noun σημειον (simeion; see below).

Sirius has been known as the Dog-star since antiquity. The Hebrew word for dog is כלב (keleb), hence the name Caleb, which belonged to the friend of Joshua. The name Joshua, of course, is the Hebrew version of the Greek name Jesus. That's all a bit beyond common coincidence."

The etymology says Jesus's sigh is also a sign, but Jesus says no. He wants a fight, not because of a sign, but because that is what has to be done.

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 11: The Pharisees, the scientists, came. Everyone hates the Pharisees, but they serve an essential function. The Number is 4669, דוו‎‎‎ט‎, dvt, "the debate."

The most famous debate in Jewish history takes place when God, Aaron and Moses discuss whether or not the complainers should be punished. In Exodus we learn there is no room for human beings that want to keep things shaken or stirred up:

"The Book of Genesis begins with God’s Brilliance, and ends with a hint of mankind’s. Throughout Genesis, we saw men rise and fall, until Abraham, the Founder, rose up and stayed on his feet. From his tutelage grew Isaac, Israel, Joseph and Ephraim, men of distinction. Peace and order followed these men around, one, Joseph saved the world. 

Instead of earning greater merits and carrying on the tradition, as humanity is ought and fully capable of, sometimes our enemy, the man of desire, of corruption, is allowed to lead. Then because of delusion about him and his intentions, many die and suffer. Those who watch and wait are as enslaved to him as those experiencing his lash.

 It’s just never enough for some or too much for others. The Book of Exodus explains the nature of all slaveries- to those inflicted by self and those by slavers, to the passions, to false gods, to wickedness, laziness, and how different all these are to loyalty to God. 

Loyalty to God is the direct result of trust. Doubt in the Will of God is the same as suicide. Doubt in the nature and capacity of the desire to sin is suicide. Liberation starts with the absolution of all doubt. Without Absolution there is no such thing as liberation from sin called “Exodus”. 

Exodus is a four part process: 

1. We need to realize we are enslaved.

2. All delusion doubt we must be free must be absolved.

3. Effort must be applied to uprooting the causes of the delusion and the shearing away the causes of the slavery.

4. Persons responsible for immoral and unethical acts must be expunged from the world. 

What results next is Rule of Law and the establishment of Order. 

Jesus tries to explain this to the Pharisees who want something more as the Exodus this time is not against a Pharaoh but against Rome and that is a horse of a different color.

To Jesus, it makes no difference.

v. 12: He sighed deeply. Like Krishna in ancient India, and yours truly in modern times, I have said corrupt governors by definition do not feel a spiritual need to observe limits, nor shall they one day just give up being crude and become mankind's best benefactors.

I have seen Mitt Romney, Mike Pence, Josh Hawley, Rick Perry, Steve Miller, Steve Bannon and others associated with the US Government engaged in reprehensible sexual acts performed in the company and upon little kids. They were done at the behest of the very same persons who attacked the Capitol on January 6 and Israel on October 7, 2023.

Even though my own life was threatened I waited for the right time to share what I knew and five years go turned them in to the FBI. There is very little to show for the risk, but it had to be done. The very same persons remained free and continued their behaviors unchanged for years.

Now their butt buddy, the one who prepared the way is trying to enter the Oval Office and cut them loose once again. He is not humanity's friend, nor are the people that are refusing to kill him.

But it has to be done.There is no clear way to avoid it. The signs have been given, many times already. So, I'm sighing too.

The Number is 6980, וטפ‎, "A tap dance."

What the good goddam do you people think you are doing letting a bunch of American pedophiles dig terror tunnels under foreign soil? Then everyone blamed Israel for wanting a little sanity during its response?

Tappa tappa tappa...

One thing was sure; dancing around the eventual Roman genocide of the Jews was not going to save their lives. This is why Jesus told the Pharisees no other signs were going to be given.

v. 13: Then He left them. The Number is 2059, כנט, the kentron, "an experiment regarding the wisdom of the welfare of the greater good is a mistake."

"The familiar noun κανων (kanon) describes any straight rod or bar that was used to keep something else straight: staves that marked the boundaries of a field, a weaver's rod, rulers and straight-edges used by masons and carpenters, the horizontal beam of a balance, even the rail of a curtain.

Importantly, this word came to be used in the sense of rule or standard: any custom or understanding that was deemed proper in the court of public opinion, became "canon" (same word), and was supposed to be heeded by all as an example to live by. It's used 5 times in the New Testament; see full concordance.

This very important word illustrates an understanding of the difference between the wily edicts of some tyrant and the wisdom of a crowd that, from the seas of trial and error, has distilled crystals for success and prosperity. The revolutionary idea behind the Logos was that it was no tyrant like the gods of old, but rather alike a republican senate, and always representative of the tried wisdom of the larger population.

From the Greek idea of Logos came modern science: that ever-evolving body of knowledge of the rules upon which the universe has been found to operate, and which ultimately reflect the intimate nature of the Creator (Romans 1:20, Colossians 2:3, Hebrews 1:3)."

We have somehow lost track of what the above means, "an intimate Creator." He hates us for what we are doing. We need to earn His love and respect back.

[auntiezelda]

Zelda gave a withering look. Of course she didn't wish to remain entrapped with Satan himself inside of her mind. She wasn't so delusional to think she could keep him dormant forever, and she desperately wanted to go back to her family. Zelda worries after them more and more as the hours passed. It had been the same when she had been cursed and stuck in Rome with Faustus, not knowing how she could help Ambrose avoid execution.

And then she had heard about the angel attack. She had felt powerless. Yet at least now she had an ally of sorts in Lilith.

"And what happens if we do wake him? Will you be able to subdue him," she asked, rather worried what the answer would be. She knew had been taking on an incredible risk volunteering herself to be the acheron, but she refused to believe it would be her end. She'd simply have to be an attentive student tot he first witch.

It was far from being her original plan. She had hoped that Sabrina's over-ambitious plan would work, and that the acheron puzzle box would be enough to contain the Dark Lord. She should have known that no workings of any warlock, even one who claimed to be the best binder in centuries, would be strong enough to stop him, that something much more ancient and much more powerful would be needed.

But Lilith was nothing if not...quick to adapt.

"Unless, of course, you'd prefer to remain a flesh acheron forever, trapped with the Dark Lord, fighting him, until eventually your mind is lost to the battle?" Lilith replied, though the question was mostly rhetorical. "And we wouldn't want to disappoint your younger self," she added, Zelda's admission far from escaping her notice. Lucifer might have wanted his covens to focus entirely on him and his story, his trials and triumphs, but witches were drawn to something a little more relatable; a woman's story, a witch like themselves, who'd...also survived struggles.

"We'll need to start small," Lilith continued. "Move slowly, and carefully, to ensure we don't...wake the beast."

[reallyromealone]

Rome may we get a pt 2 to this fic? https://www.tumblr.com/reallyromealone/685571568346202112/just-me-sliding-here-to-ask-if-i-can-request-a?source=share

Bonten trio (ran, Rindō, Sanzu) x dilf!reader

Male reader - fluff -poly relationship - reader is a dad

🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷After meeting his son, the trio was far far more present in (name)s life and subsequently his sons as (name) went to pick up his kid from day-care when he could which was usually three times a week followed by going to the park and getting food the toddler wanted.

"Noooo!" (Sons name) screamed out as he threw a tantrum from hell, (name) just staring down his son before looking at the Haitanis and Sanzu "I'm sorry about this" (name) said before crouching "I understand you want to put your feet in a puddle but if you wanna do that, shoes stay on" (name) said simply "now keep your shoes on and stomp in the puddles or we go home and you don't get to stomp in any puddles and you go to bed" he said simply and the toddler pouted before nodding and getting up "now what do we say?"

"Sowwy..." The toddler said to the adults "do you guys forgive him?" (Name) asked the trio and they realized this is a good way to earn the kids trust "we forgive him" Ran said with a smile and the toddler let his dad clean his face up before letting the toddler go and jump in some puddles as they went to (sons name)s choice of restaurant which was usually one with a play pen of sorts.

"Your son's adorable!" A young woman said to (name) as she took his order, flirting with him but the Dad paid no mind to her advances as he let his son order what he wanted like a big boy and then she noticed there were four extremely attractive men before her.

The three executives glared at her from behind (name) and Ran took (sons name) in his arms when the toddler reached out to him, (name) was happy the toddler trusted the three men... He didn't exactly have anyone he could trust him with for long periods of time.

Maybe his cousin.

The three did flirt to hell though with (name) while (sons name) enjoyed his his food and stole his dad's food because despite ordering similar things the tot wanted to know what it tasted like.

"His birthday is in two weeks if you guys wanna tolerate fifteen toddlers for an afternoon"

That sounded like a nightmare but they wanted to show they could handle things involving the kid, showing they were committed--- (name) had an inkling of their intentions and he knew he would have to have a conversation with them about what a relationship with him would entail.

He wanted his kid to have a good life.

And a secure life.

"Well being gifts" Rindō said simply and (sons name) beamed at the fact they were coming to his birthday.

They wanted to fucking die.

Here they sat with a bunch of parents chatting as a bunch of toddlers ran around giggling and playing.

Apparently the moms claimed (name) as one of their own and the dad's realized he wasn't trying to steal their wife, he just wanted to raise his kid.

"Thank you Zuzu!" (Sons name) said as he opened gifts and held the newest toy on the market, the Haitanis getting him cool toys as well.

By the end of the day, the three men were exhausted as (name) tucked his son into bed, the boy cake filled and happy.

"You guys don't gotta stick around" (name) said starting clean up as he gave the house cleaner the day off... He wasn't going to make them clean this shit.

"We'll help out, we contributed to the mess"

With anyone else they would have dipped already but not with (name).

He deserved better.

"I know you guys are flirting... I have ground rules if you guys want to be in my life and my son's more than whatever this is"

Everyone stopped as (name) spoke "no drugs or drinking around him, he doesn't need to see that shit" he said firmly "he's my first priority always, I WILL choose him no matter what"

"And I don't mess around, I'm here for commitment and if anything happens... You save him"

The three took in his words and nodded, if this meant they got to date him... So be it.

"Good, now so you guys wanna take cake home? There's so much fucking cake..."

[merrybrides]

Everything You Need to Know About Flower Girls

Flower girls are adorable additions to any wedding. Even if kids aren't your thing, it's hard to deny the cuteness that comes with a little tot all dolled up in tulle throwing petals down the aisle.

What Is a Flower Girl?

A flower girl is typically the youngest person in the wedding party and precedes the bride down the aisle. The tradition dates back to ancient Rome, where the flower girl carried wheat and herbs for the bride and groom.

The History of Flower Girls

Upper-class Greeks and Romans often included little girls in the wedding procession. They would walk ahead of the bride, “showering her path with grains and herbs,” which of course represented the collective hope that this woman could also make little humans just like the ones tossing oatmeal, lest she be doomed to a life of barren dread.

The interpretation of this tradition got a little looser and a little weirder around the Elizabethan era when the inclusion of children in the wedding party itself was more a reflection of how the culture idealized childhood, seeing kids as “symbols of hope and innocence.” Since the flower girl walks down the aisle before the bride, she's meant to represent a younger, more innocent version of the bride and the transformation from child to adult.

Flower Girl FAQs

Who should be the flower girl?

Flower girls can be nieces, cousins, or even your college best friend's daughter.

How old should they be?

Usually, they range from three to eight years old. You can, of course, go with someone younger as long as you're confident in their ability to get down the aisle.

Can I have more than one?

Definitely! If you have a big family or a bunch of nieces, it might be a good idea to include everyone to avoid anyone feeling left out. If you've decided to include several little attendants in your bridal party, there are many duties they'd no doubt love to take on. Ask one flower girl to walk with you and carry your train while another helps escort a beloved pet down the aisle. They can hold hands with each other as they walk down the aisle or opt for a wagon ride with the eldest flower girl pulling the littlest ones.

What should they wear?

Traditionally, the flower girl's dress is similar to the bride's gown. But you can also have her dress mirror that of the bridesmaids, whether that's incorporating a similar print or the same color. 

Who should pay for the dress?

Typically, their parents are expected to pay for the outfit. If what you're envisioning is a bit pricey though, you might volunteer to cover the cost.

What are they responsible for exactly?

Their main duty is to charm the pants off guests, leaving them smiling from ear to ear. Some are very shy and walk timidly down the aisle while others take their responsibilities seriously, meticulously placing each petal in the 'perfect' spot for the bride. Mostly, they're there to set a cute tone for the bride to walk down the aisle.

Do they have to throw flowers?

Nope, they can carry everything from colorful balloons to pinwheels or a bottle of bubbles to blow as they walk down the aisle. The possibilities are endless.

How will they process?

If the flower girl is old enough to walk on her own, she should head down the aisle after the wedding party and before the bride. If they're too young to walk or tend to be a little fussy or shy, involving their mom or dad to help carry or hold their hand is also an option. The biggest concern brides have is wanting assurance that the flower girls will fulfill their duty without getting stage fright. Don’t worry to much because, inevitably, guests will coo at them or coax them down the aisle somehow.

Do I also have to have them at the reception?

Not if you don't want to. If you're having a no-kids-allowed wedding, tell the flower girl's parents in advance and help to arrange a babysitter to look after them as the party happens.

Should I get them a thank-you gift?

It's a nice idea, especially if you're getting the rest of your wedding party something. It doesn't have to be that expensive, a doll or a personalized gift box are just some ideas.

Flower Girl Alternatives

You can choose to skip out on having flower girls altogether, or you can get creative by giving the role to a friend or family member that isn't already a part of the wedding party. You can even give this role to a pet who is trained and able to follow the cue of when to walk down the aisle. Some people are inviting their grandparents to walk down the aisle instead. The idea is to incorporate them into your big day and honor them in some way. The act became somewhat of a trend last year and has made the concept of "flower grandmas" a thing.

If you still want the little ones to be a part of your wedding, but you're not into the origins of the flower-girl tradition, you can also have them be greeters at the wedding, waving to guests as they arrive to set a fun, cute mood. Or, if they're older and capable enough, recruit them to be the ushers who are typically responsible for handing out programs and escorting guests to their respective sides.

[nibeul]

I need a pistol for my mandosona. He’s based on rome and I was planning on him using a vibrosword and having a shield because of it, but I figure any mando worth his weight isn’t going to only be using ancient weapons. He’s not tall or short, and he’s definitely not particularly buff, he focuses more on agility and skill over brute force. He needs a blaster that would work more long range, but not a rifle, y’know?

Thanks!

WESTAR-35s (jai'galaar model) are pretty much the standard for Mandos! They’re sleek pistols, reliable, sturdy, and they’re specifically catered to Mandalorians. All of the WESTAR series blasters are, actually, but the 35s are probably the one you wanna go for. They’re low maintenance too, and while they don’t have a canon range, they seem to be pretty effective based on the show.

also so sorry I’m replying to these late, these asks for buried ToT

[calliecat93]

Top 15 Star Trek TOS Episodes (Part One)

I debated on doing this until I did the second watchthrough/reviews... but heck with it. I don’t see it changing too terribly much after and I thought it would be fun. It’s been a fun ride with TOS and I didn’t expect to love it, but here we are. It ain’t a perfect show, but a good one with good characters, strong themes, and just the right amount of intrigue and silliness. I had a blast watching it, but let’s face it, some episodes are better than others. Some are goofy but enjoyable, some... well, they tried. Everyone’s got what they like and dislike, and these are the ones that I liked best. All is only my opinion, so take it with a grain of salt. So to finally cap off this watchthrough before I start the second one and also plunge into TNG, here is the first half of my favorite TOS episodes~

#15. Bread and Circuses

I didn’t realize this until I saw someone else point it out... but this is essentially Star Trek’s version of The Hunger Games, only combined with Roman gladiators. We have our main trio get captured by the government whom have already caused another Starfleet captain to succumb and he sentenced his entire crew to death. Thus we have Kirkg ivent he option of either doing the same, or he can remain in defiance and risk Spock and McCoy’s lives. Either way, he loses. It’s a good episode, showing Kirk given one of the most sadistic choices that you can give him... and yet he doesn’t break. Oh he gets plenty of hardship. He makes the choice to keep the crew form beaming down, which morally is te best decision. After all, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Kirk, unlike Captain Merik, chooses to preserve his cew’s safety as a captain should. Whatever happens to him makes no difference... but because Spock and McCoy are with him, him making that chocie means that they suffer theconsequences as they are not only thrust into gladitorial combat for their lives, bt Kirk is forced to watch and can do nothing. He tries to when Bones is down, but restrained form doing so. But even then he doesn’t back down or even consider it. Merik may have thrown away his whole crew, but like Hell Kirk is going to and concerning the other two, he accepts execution after Spock breaks the rules to save Bones, emphasizing the point more. It;s a really god episode to show just how much Kirk truly follows that responsibility.

We also have some great Spock/McCoy content here as the episode does put their relationship int he spotlight a bit. Their relationship is the most interesting to me so this was a great one. They bicker pretty much all episode with even the other guy they got caught with asking if they’re enemies, which Kirk just replies that even those tow don’t know. But I think if there’s any doubt that they don’t care about each other, this one promptly shuts it up. Spock, despite knowing that he can’t, defends McCoy and saves his life. This leads tot he excellent scene int he cells where Spock is trying to figure a way out, despite fully well knowing that he can’t break through the bars. Logically it would be pointless to continue fruitless efforts, but he tries to anyways. When McCoy tries to thank him for saving him, with Spock both hiding behind his usual logical shell while still focusing on the futile escape effort. Thus we get McCoy confronting him about being afraid of living and not knowing how to handle even one warm feeling. It’s a really good scene performed excellently by Leonard Nimoy and DeForest Kelley and is just a really good insight into their relationship. I’ll keep from going into any huge detail for if that review project makes it this far, but still an excellently performed scene, especially when it caps off with McCoy simply saying that he’s worried about Jim too, the one thing that the two CAN agree on without doubt.

This is at fifteen mainly because of a few small factors. I only know a few things about Roman history so anything about it went over my head and the ending also baffled me likely due to that. We also have it implied that Kirk did... it with a slave girl. Mind you the slave girl went to him and again it’s implied. But that still makes me feel... very uncomfortable once the girl did it under orders, and therefore not fully without consent. I’m gonna have to watch it again when I dot he more in-depth analysis, but... yeah. The ending also leaves without a real resolution to the planet, remaining as they are until they eventually fall just like the actual Rome did. I guess that was the intention, but... just kinda sucks that nothing truly got accomplished. Still from a character standpoint, it was a really good one for the Triumvirate and a great watch.

#14. For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky

So for those who have been following me since I began this venture, you know that McCoy is my absolute favorite character. So when we got to a McCoy-centric episode, I was excited! And overall, it was a good one. Not one of the best, but perfectly fine. We have McCoy diagnosed with a terminal illness and given a year to live. When he and the other two transport onto a meteor-esque spaceship, they encounter the priestess Natira and her people headed for essentially a promised land witht he ship controleld by The Oracle. As Kirk and Spock try to learn more, McCoy is left with Natira who has grown smittenw ith hima dn wishes for him to remain as her mate. Sadly, I feel like this pisode wasted a lot of potential. Bones, the Chief Medical Officer who is always taking care of everyone else, is now the sick one and has only a eya rleft, if event hat. But the only real signs of this is he’s a little weaker than normal, which tbf it was just diagnoses so he may not have the most severe symptoms bu it also kidna makes the fact feel... less urgent. Using that time to set up himw ith Natira also felt wasted since we have the potential of a very emotional story where McCoy sis truggling with his lfie and the others have to come to terms that e’s going to die and likely struggle to find some way, any way to save him... and we spend it with a Girl of the Week who we’ll never see again and on a romance that while it is kinda sweet, ultimately leaves zero impact. It just feels like there was so much wasted potential and the emotional weight that you DO get... it feels less strong if you don’t know McCoy’s history. We know it now cause of supplementary material and such, butt he audiece of the 60’s certainly didn’t, hence why this is fourteen on the list.

That being said, the episode is still good. What makes up for the lack of impact about McCoy’s status and lack of history is DeForest Kelley. The man put his all into this episode (he did in every episode, but especially here when he gets ot be center stage), expressing McCoy’s sadness and loneliness as he talks to Natira perfectly. You can feel that loneliness, that longingness for what Natira’s offering him, that need to just have... some kind of happiness and intimacy that he was just never able to truly have, especially now. He just feels so... sad and vulnerable. Even though we’ve seen him interact romantically with women before, he comes off as so nervous and uncertain about what he’s doing. Like it’s been so long since he’s been intimate with anyone that he is at an utter loss on what to do with it. Natira essentially takes the lead and is even perfectly fine with caring for him in the limited time that he has left. There is someone willing to be with him and to love him for the first time in who knows how long and willing to continue to do so despite him dying... is it any shock that he chose to remain? And even then he did so in part to save Kirka and Spock from death when they got caught... and even then when he found out how to get the ship on it’s actual course and out oft he way of danger, he called them immediately for help. Yeah he almost got his brain fried for it which tbf he didn’t know would happen, but it still shows how selfless he really is, still placing others well-being before his own. As a good doctor would and should.

We also have Kirk and Spock’s reactions to the news. Kirk only knows because Chapel pretty much forced Bones to tell him and the man looks like a kicked puppy when told. He even tells Bones that he doesn’t have to go on the mission with them when normally he’s all gung-ho about dragging him along, only allowing it because this time Bones actually wants to go. Spock finds out after they all get zapped with Bones taking longer to wake up/being briefly unrsponsive, where Kirk admits it to him. Spock is noticibly concerned, emphasized when he holds onto McCoy’s arm for a good 30 seconds just to help the man sit up. McCoy can already tell that he knows before Kirk say it...a dn chooses to just let it be and get back to the matter at hand. Then there’s McCoy after he made his decision and faces the two for as far as he knew the final time. Kirk argues with him and is all but begging him to come back since otherwise he’s gonna die, which McCoy refuses since...well, he’s gonna either die from collision or being shot down, or he dies of xenopolycythemia. Either way he’s on borrowed time, so why not at least let him live it hacving a shot at happiness? Kirk is upset. Spock is as upset as a Vulcan will express. McCoy’s not happy about it, but firm in his decision... so firm it kinda makes the end where he does decide to go back kind of a juxtaposition, but I ain’t complaining either. The cure is also too convenient, but again not complaining. It doens’t seem like that much of an episode at first glance, but once you sit down and reallye xamine it even if you know nothign about McCoy’s backstory or peornsal life, it relaly leaves an impact. Again, a testemant to Kelley’ performance. As such even wit it’s issues and waste of potential, I adore it~!

#13. Obsession

I don’t see this one talked about much, but I found this one... well I hate to say the word but fascinating. What can I say? I’m a sucker for character studies, and BOY do we have a good one with Kirk here. In this episode we have a mysterious gas creature thing killing the crew and eventually get into The Enteprrise. Kirk reacts badly to it. Why? Well his crew dying of course, but the big reason is because he’s dealt with this creature before when he was a lieutenant where due to hesitaitng for a brief moment, mass casualties including his commanding officer were killed. So now with this creature’s pesence, Kirk is ont he hunt to take it down once and for all. But as the title indicates, he’s leaning towards becoming obsessed with it. We se Kirk acitng more angry and reckless than usual, especially when he continues to choose this over getting out of the space to diver some vaccines whent heya re desperately needed... yeah we’ll try to ignore how uncomfortable that is int he current times for now. The on of his former CO is also part of the Enterprise crew, and Kirk is spreading that obsession onto him, even punishing him for hesitating as he had when you’d expect him to be more sympathetic. It’s an episode that really unsettles you because Kirk isn’t acting like Kirk. Even in Consciousness of the King when dealing with the man who... you know, caused a genocide that Kirk was a victim of, he mostly held it together.

It’s these kinds of episodes that always fascinate me. What happens when we put this character into a situaitont hat completeley unnerves them? How would they react? How would it affect their usually rational actions? What would drive them to behave in such a way? How do those around them react? Kirk is very much dealing with a trauma and while eh is able to convince Spock and McCoy that e IS sound of mind and fit for duty, it doesn’t change that he’s allowing the trauma and guilt to morph into a dangeorus obsessiont hat is risking numerous lives. Not to mention afecting a young man who is in a similar position to him and also lost a loved one, yet the one that you’d expect to have Kirk’s sympahty is the one he’s treaitng harshly because of what he himself went through. Yes Kirk realizes it at the end and both corrects his mistakes and takes outt he monster, and it was good to see that he was able to pull himself back. But it was still just so interesitng to explore Kirk in this kind of position.

Spock and McCoy were also on point with both knowing that Jim isn’t acting right and ultimateley confornting him. The whole scene where McCoy gives Kirk essentially apsycological analysis, bringing Spock in once Kirk gets partiulalry heated, and them both laying down the line and holding firm until Kirk properly assures themt hat he is fit for duty was such a great scene. So was Spock actually seekign Bones as he knows that he can better understand Kirk’s emotional issues and him trying to comfort Garrovic was nice... it failed but he was stillt rying to do the right thing when Jim couldn’t. It’just one of those episodes that a character analyist like me eats up. As far as flaws go, notign comes to mind, but that might change on rewatch. I had just had others I liked better that placed it here, but it was very much an episode that got my attention.

#12. Operation: Annihilate

I still remember the suspense that this episode had me in. So we have the crew arrive at a colony that is uner attack by these parasites that are infecting thema nd leading them to painful deaths. Its already bad when Kirk finds his brother dead and his sister-in-law dies in utter agony, leaivng his young nephew’s fate uncertain. But it gets worse when Spockg ets infected and while he does his best, he’s having a difficult time managing the pain. It shows too in not only the scene where he pretty much goes balistic, but every scene after where he’s moslty under control, you can see the pain in his body lamnguage, tone, and eyes. Nimoy did an excelelnt job at keeping up that usual Spock demeanor, but converyign everything through body language alone. The team has to work to find a way to get rid of these parasites before it kills anyone else and exterminate them fromt he colony.

IMO, this was when iot felt like the writers realized what they had with the Triumvarite. At that point it was mainly abotu Kirka dn Spock and hwile Bones got it better than a few of the others, he still didn’t feel... quite there yet. I mean Kelley wans’t evne including int he opening credits until the next season. Here though we have all three with something major going on that’s important. Kirk is trying to figure out how to deal witht he situaiton which has cost him two fmaily members and may cost him his kid nephew. Spock is n pain due tot he parasite but still trying to perform his duties,e ven beaming down to get one of the parasites sicne as he’s already infected, he’s not at risk. McCoy is tryign to figure out how to get rid of the things and is the one having to keep both Spock and Peter alive. These all intersect together and the three just have this great chemistry. Their dynamic isvery mucht he thignt hat I loved most whenw atching the series, and this is when it felt like it clicked into place. The climax isalso heart-breaking. They figure out that bright lightcan kill the parasites, but McCoy is worried about what that intensity can do to Spock. He’s reluctant, but both Kirk and Spock push him to do it and while it’s successful in killing the parasite, it elaves Spock blind. Then Bones finds out that he didn’t need to turn it up that high and would have know had he just waited a few moments. While Spcok accepts it as a necessary loss, Kirk can barley hold back his fury... thoguh I DON’T like how the blame all get put on Boens when Kirk made him do it. Evenw hen Kirk tells Bones later that it wasn’t his fault, just by Bones’ face you can tell that he fully blmes himself.

That does bringmy big criticism though that lande dit at twelve. The ending is... nto good. I mean yay the succeed, but it felt like this was meant to be a two-parter, they couldn’t get the seocnd part, and had to make a hasty resolution to clear up the plot quickly. Not only is Peter’s face never mentioned or do we see Kirk’s reactionw hether good or bad, but Spock... is fine. He had a second eyelid that NEVER comes up again and he had just forgottena bout it. I now that TOS wans’t a serialized show but it not only felt like a waste of some potential story and character development for all three of our boys, but like haivng Spock blindd at all and sending McCoy down that guilt trip was utterly unecessary to begin with because it all happened int he last five minutes. I’mg lad that Spock was okay, and the end where Bones asks Kirk to not tell Spockw hat he said about him being the best First Offficer int he fleet, which Spock ehars and thanks him for half-enuinely, half-jokignly, again it feels like it was unecessary with how lat eit happened and how little impact it ultimateley had. Because of that, it landed here. But it’s still an enjoyable episode that again, felt like when the Triumvirate truly clicked into place and gave us even more good material after,

#11. The Naked Time

When I got to this episode, I had to remember how I quit as a teenager right before this and proceeded to yell ‘why didn’t you just go ONE more episode you idiot?!” to my past self. I really enjoyed this episode mainly for the concept. A virus that erases one inhibitions and self-control. Some of them are wa ky like Sulu with the fencing sword, which was also the most entertaining part of the episode. But it’s still interesting as we see these characters just give into whatever they’re desiring without any sort of thought and it erupts into chaos. It WAS a tad uncomfortable cause... you know, we’re watching a spreading virus that came about cause someone failed to follow proper safety guidelines while we’re living in a pandemic. But that’s not the episode’s fault.

It especially got interesting when Spock got it. This is the fourth episodes aired (I think it’s later in production order but I watched the order Netflix gave me) but even then we saw that Spock was a logical, very in-control character. We din’t know all the details anout him yet or that much about Vulcans, but we’d seen enough to get the general gist of the character. Then due to the cirus, those mental barriers begin to crumble rapidly. The scene where he is alone, trying to force himself to gain control of his emotions and ultimately failing as he breaks down... damn that was an excellent scene. Apparently it was thought of on the spot by Leonard Nimoy and he only had time for one take. Boy did he nail it. That was the moment I became invested in Spock as a character and in his and Kirk’s relationship as Kirk tries to snap him out of it, even risking getting infected himself because he needs Spock.  I think that there are episodes that I enjoy more and the weird time travel ending made the ending really weird. Hence why this just barely missed the Top 10. But back when the show mainly gripped me for it’s science fiction concepts, this was a really good episode. It was the first one I went and watched twice before moving to the next one. I’m just so interested in the idea of losing your self-control and how you and others around you deal with it. Maybe it’s the analyst in me talking, but damn those mental concepts always get to me! A fun watch that was essentially the episode that convinced me that yes, this show is good and this time I wasn’t backing out.

#10. Mirror, Mirror

Top 10 now! Here we go! So.. mirror alternate reality. We’ve seen this a billion times in just about every media ever. IDK how common it was when Star Trek did it, but I always love this kind of concept snd seeing how a character would act if things had gone even slightly different. The Mirror Verse is admittedly a little too cartoonishly evil, but does come across as a fascist dictatorship, so I can’t really complain. Anyways, Kirk, McCoy, Scotty, and Uhura and up there and now have to figure out how to get home without anyone catching on that they’re not their counterparts. One thing I love is that it gives Scotty and Uhura some much needed focus and they are both awesome with Scotty being his usual miracle worker self and Uhura kicking ass as she gets info and outright threatens Sulu when he tries to come on to her. God I love that woman~

The Mirror Crew are essentially one-dimensional monsters with the exception or Mirror Spock. He’s still the logical being that we know him as, but much colder and ruthless as well. Yet he still is the closest to matching his usual self and has at least some level of decency compared to everyone else. It’s probably why Kirk was so convinced that he could cause a turn around at the end. He’s not good, but he’s still more good than anyone else on that ship. Yeah the guy who forcibly mind melded McCoy without consent (and how much we judge that I’ve seen varied but I consider it a horrible invasion of privacy that they shouldn’t have brushed off) is still FAR better than anyone else if that indicates how bad this universe is. Seeing his and Kirk’s interactions was super interesitng as clealry Mirror Spock caught on quickly that something was up, but chose to prolong it until near the end. It’s interesitng to observe. I also just love seeing our four heroes handling the situation. They all act effectivlynd manage to keep up the masqurade very well with only Spock and Marlena figuring it out. It’s one of the more diverse ensembles and I wish they had done more diverse dynamics than here, but it was great to see.

I think my only issues aside form McCoy’s potential trauma being glossed over (though I do love how he insisted on saving Mirror Spock and risk not making it home cause damn it, he’s a doctor no matter what) is how we don’t get to see the four’s mirror selves aside form once, where only Kirk gets a characterization as a cartoonishly violent brute. We hear a few things about them like Mirror McCoy’s sickbay essentially being a torture zone, but that’s it. I guess it was due to only having an hour, but I wish we had gotten to see how Spock’s end of things and how he interacts with them aside form Kirk, which that didn’t amount to much anyways. Ah well, fanon has covered both of these pretty extensively from what I can tell, so I shall settle on that. Still it was an enjoyable episode. I’ve seen better Evil Universe stories (nothing’s gonna beat the Justice Lords from Justice League for me tbf), but still a good one with a good ensemble, good character moments, and a unique threatening situation for our heroes to navigate through.

#9. Amok Time

AKA, the episode that more or less created the Slash Genre as we know it. But we’ll touch ont hat later. For now, one thing that I was really hoping for when I got to Season 2 was learning more about Vulcans and their culture. We knew a few things by then, like certain physiological differences between Vulcans and Humans and of course their logical philosophy. But S2 explored them and their culture more, and this was a big one. Spock is acting uncharacteristically agressive and refuses to explain why. Eventually he reveals that he is undergoign Pon Farr, aka going into heat. Unless he goes to Vulcan and does... ugh... mating and soon, he will die. IDK how they got away with this on a 60’s show, but I ain’t complaining. It does that exploration into Vulcans that I was hoping for. Hell we grt to finally see Vulcan... well a section of it but we still got to see it for the first time! It was interesitng to learn about Pon Farr and the rituals that go into it like how maitng works (weird that the logical Vulcan species has arranged marriages, but whatever) and seeing more Vulcans outside of Spock. It’s the kind of world building that does my heart good~

It had a lot of really good moments. Spock explaining everything to Kirk while trying to keep himself from killing him. Chekov being uttelry done with everything as they keephanging course to and from. Ulcan. Spock inviting not only Kirk to the ‘wedding’, but also McCoy, showing that despite their arguments he undoubtedly considers him a close friend. Hell McCoy imo is the true hero of the episode for being the one to catch that something was worng with Spock and his in-genius plan to fake Kirk’s death to keep his two idiot best friends from killing each other without pissing off any Vulcans. Seriosuly, the man needs all the appreciation in existence. And of course, we have the kal-if-fee where T’Pring (great antagonist BTW, will explore her when ai do an a tual review) forces Kirk against Spock. What ensued, while I fully believ eunintentional, forever generated a whole wave of slash and outright invented the term. While I’m not even close to as into Spirk as others, there is no denying how impactful the ship was to fandom culture and to the LGBT+ community. It is a legavy that I hold respect for since it really gave people like myself creativity and enpowerment for over 50 years, and is still generaitng works even now. That is something to respect.

As for it’s placement... the ending was a litle weird. It felt like they didn’t know how to have Spock cured without him either killing someone or doing hanky panky, so he just... gets over it agter thinking that he killed Kirk. It is a good moment, especially his reaction when he sees that Kirk is alive. That was a very justified emotional response that made me smile... and laugh when he tried to deny it haha. ButI find it hard ot buy that a biological funciton like that just... went away. But ah well. It was still an ejoyable episode with some great Vulcan content, McCoy being an underrated badass, and the moments that slash shippers will forever be grateful for. But speaking of slash...

#8. All Our Yesterdays

Sorry Amok Time, but THIS is the slashiest episode in the whole show. While I didn’t get into Spirk much, I got head over heels for Spones. IDK what it was but their dynamic has always been enjoyable and it just... really drew me in. Most of my favorite moments were between this two like the moment in Bread and Circuses and more I’ll go into later, This is essentially The Spones Episode despite what actually happens. Our heroes are to clear a planet that’s sun is about to go supernova, only to find it already gone. Kirk ends up going through a portal when he hears cries for help and when Spock and McCoy go agter him, they end up in an arctic-like area. They were all sent to different points of th eplanet’s past, Kirk in some old timey point and Spock and McCoy even earlier. Now they have to figure out how to get back and survive their situaitons. Kirk’s plot has nothing special tbh and with a few adjustments could have been written out entirely, hence why this is at 8. But Spock and McCoy? Ho boy, their scenes MAKE this episode.

Spock and McCoy try to survive the harsh conditions, the latter almost dying of severe frostbite. He outright tells Spock to abandon him with Spock being VERY adament that that’s not happening. They’re rescued by a woman named Zarabeth and Spock proceeds to spend most of the episode interacting with her while tending to McCoy. Which he gets VERY touchy feely with the latter. Like... a lot more than normal, which tvh the whole seaosm felt that way between those two if what I said about The World is Hollow... counts for anything. Now he DOES end up ‘falling’ for Zarabeth, but there’s a reason for that. Spock is regressing to how his ancestors acted at the time, which was like ‘barbarians’. When amcCoy starts to realize that something’s wrong, it leads to two very intense but really well done scenes with McCoy using logic against Spock to make him realize that he’s lost himself. And while Spock pretty much gave up greitng home due to all of this, McCoy refuses with or without him, even outright going back into the storm to find the portal because damn it, he wants his life back. Then when we find out that Spock and McCoy HAVE to go back together or not at all, it doesn’t take Spock even a second to decide to leave Zarabeth behind. It’s sad because Zarabeth will die a cold, lonely death and she cdoesn’t deserve that at all, so it’s bittersweet. But man next to the katra thing int he films, IDT it gets more symbolic than that.

Like I said, Kirk’s scenes in the past are the only real issue I have since aside form explaining a few things about he situation, feel like they’re just there so that Kirk can still be in the episode prominently. I had some problems with Spock’s OOC behavior, but that got an explanation and has some credibility with how Vulcans are psychically linked. Would explain why McCoy and Zarabeth never seemed to regress. But it was still a good episode with great Spock and McCoy scenes, we FINALLY git a snow environment after forever (and a time travel plot to boot), and a bittersweet but nice ending. Seriously when Spock and McCoy make it back safely and Kirk just touches them on their shoulders in relief is such a nice moment. God I love those three~! Season Three wasn’t a strong season but it still had it’s standouts, and this was very much one of them for me. But I AM biased cause Spones, so take that for what it’s worth!

And that’s enough for now. The last seven will be in another post. Thank you for reading everyone~!

Image Source: TrekCore TOS Gallery

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Just Ask Him (A BruAbba Fic)

Merry Christmas everyone! Though I don’t personally celebrate it, I wish everyone the best on such a beloved holiday! 

Here is my piece for @jjba-secret-santa. Of course, I just had to get my idol @headoverjojo to write for, but Tricia, I hope you like what I wrote, especially since I never do ship fics lmao. 

But without further ado: Just Ask him: A BruAbba Fic (3.1k words)

Snow began in the early evening to cascade over the city of Naples. The roads were being paved, shops were closing for the night, and the humble citizens were retiring to their families and friends. The city was calming down, lulled to sleep by the falling snowflakes and the smell of hot coffee and freshly baked cookies. Libeccio was no different, Narancia was becoming drowsy after coming back home from a mission, Fugo was finally able to set his book down out of fatigue, Mista was trying to get comfortable in his chair, the three of them watching Leone pace back and forth in front of the table, the four of them all waiting for Bruno to get back from a meeting with Don Giovanna. The air in the room was heavy, each mafioso nervous at the outcome of Abbacchio’s leap of faith. 

“It’s not a big deal man. Just tell him, don’t freeze up like that time. It’ll all go well.” 

Abbacchio growled. “Easy for you to say, you don’t even have a boyfriend to propose to.”

Mista pouted at the insult but Fugo was still able to smile at his friend’s expense. 

“I think it’s beautiful Abbacchio. I bet Bruno will ask you himself one day, but it’s inspiring to see you take life by the horns and work to propose to him yourself. You know, if I think about it, it’s almost sort of like something you’d seen in one of those romantic novels.”

Narancia looked over at Fugo, nodding vigorously at the comparison. “Hah! You’re so right! A fallen, broken person finds their hope in their own little beacon of light, and together they ride off into the sunset-”

“Fugo, Narancia. Can you both please shut the fuck up, you’re making me nervous. I’m gonna do it, it’s not a big dea-”

Abbacchio was soon cut off by the door opening, the four of them turning to see Bruno briskly walk in, his movements fast and stressed. Abbacchio opened his mouth to speak but Bruno walked right past him, sitting at the table and slamming down a large stack of papers. Abbacchio nervously combed his hair with his fingers and straightened out his clothes, ready to finally speak his truth to the love of this life. Bruno, the ever-busy capo, however, remained oblivious as always. 

“Hi everyone sorry I’m late. I’ve got a whole new stack of projects for us to do, but if we put our heads together, we can definitely get them done by Christmas. There are some casino troubles near the west side of the city. Fugo that’ll probably go to you.”

Fugo tried to interrupt, to no avail. 

“Buccellati, Abbacchio wants to tell-” 

“A few corrupt figures, Mista that’s yours. Be careful though, I heard some reports from civilians and they all have the people on their side.”

Mista tried to interrupt as well, seeing his senior mafioso fidget in his stance, panicking that they couldn’t grab the capo’s attention. 

“Wait but Buccellati, Abba-”

“Oh don’t worry Mista everything will be fine. I’ll take over a lot of the conciliation and follow-ups on last month’s work. Some investigative work. That can be for Narancia, and hey wait where’s Abbacchio?” 

When the three men at the table pointed behind their capo, the leader turned around to see his boyfriend standing over the table, a nervous smile on his face. The silver-haired man, expecting his love’s usual warm smile in return, was instead meant with the blank, busied face of a capo, oblivious to his boyfriend’s feelings. 

“Oh, there you are Abbacchio. Can you join Narancia on some of the investigative stuff? You know, for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah sure but there’s somethi-”

“Hey listen I’m so sorry everyone, it’s been a very long day and tomorrow is going to be even longer I bet. I’m really tired is it alright if I head to bed now?” 

“I mean sure but-” 

“Thanks, Mista. Alright, have a goodnight everyone. Abbacchio, I’ll meet you upstairs.” 

Bruno placed a firm hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder before heading up the stairs to the apartment above the restaurant to rest. Abbacchio was left speechless, his eyes twitching in frustration. The radio that had been playing just finished its rotation of Christmas songs and Narancia had come up with an idea, beginning to snicker. Mista looked over at him, confused. 

“Hey, Mista I got a good Christmas song to sing, ‘Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Jack frost nipping at your nose. Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow. And Abbacchio will find it hard to sleep tonight.’” 

The two men broke out into loud laughter, the older goofball practically tearing up as he stood up. “Why the hell were you so nervous Abba?!”

 He turned to Abbacchio, who was giving the two idiots a deadly glare. 

“Can it morons. I’m just worried that he’ll say no. You don’t gotta go making fun of me.”

He rolled his eyes, heading up the stairs to head to his bedroom with Bruno. 

Even before he became the Don’s second in command, since joining Passione, Bruno Buccellati had always been able to afford incredibly nice, incredibly expensive things. The small private bedroom in the group’s hideout in Naples was no exception. The moment Abbacchio opened the door to their bedroom, he felt his breath hitch in his throat as it always did. The crisp black and white palette of the room was so incredibly Bruno, yet the touches of gold and purple were so incredibly him. The warm, dim light worked to set the mood between the two partners, even if one of them was still hard at work instead of heading off to sleep. 

Leone worked to quiet his fast-beating heart, rushing over to the dresser to prepare for bed, looking at himself in the large porcelain mirror over the sink. 

“How is everything in Rome? How is Don Giovanna doing?” 

“Everything is fine. Giorno is fine. There’s a Christmas ball in a few nights. And, you can call him Giorno you know?” 

Abbachio rolled his eyes at the other’s short, blunt, busy, answers. While he was washing the makeup off his face, Bruno finally took himself away from his work long enough to notice his boyfriend in front of him. When Leone looked up from the sink, Bruno quickly looked back down, an unspoken awkwardness between the two of them. Abbacchio sighed and soon tugged his long jacket over his head, causing the capo’s eyes to glance up to see his lover’s slim yet strong chest and the little tuffs of silver hair that frame his face coming into view as he took pulled the collar over his head. Bruno smiled before returning to the papers on his desk with a renewed sense of purpose. 

Leone looked down at the ring box that he had hidden away in his drawer and closed the door to it. ‘Not tonight’ he thought, watching Bruno pull his hair out (literally and figuratively) at the work he was doing. Walking towards the light of his life, Abba soon turned to lay in their bed, wishing to give Bruno some space. The tired, nervous grump eyed his dark-haired leader with a quizzical eye. Why the hell does he work so hard? Though he admired the other’s work ethic, the man couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his boyfriend’s refusal to just go to bed.

“Come to bed Bruno… You of all people should know of the importance of sleep.” 

Bruno looked over at his boyfriend with a confused look on his face, before putting the papers aside and rubbing his tired eyes. 

“Why should I know the importance of sleep?” 

Deciding his sleepy love needed some physical assurance, Abbacchio smirked before getting up from the bed and walking behind his capo’s desk chair to encase him in his strong arms. Running his black painted nails over the leader’s chest, Leone made a point to trace his fingers along the lines of his lover’s lacey chest tattoo, not even needing to see it to get the lines right. It was a little tick that the taller man had that calmed both of them down. The fact that the ex-cop had his love’s body so perfectly memorized was a fact that they both relished in. Abbacchio looked down at his capo, an ache placing down on his heart. 

Damn, he loved this man so damn much. 

Raking his fingers through the other’s jet black hair and meticulously undid the other’s hairpins, as well as the braids atop his head, knowing all the actions that made the fierce stand user melt in his chair. Bruno sighed at the calculated touches and soon bit his lip, starting to breathe heavily. 

“Well? Why should I know the importance of sleep?” He muttered nervously. 

Abbacchio smiled. “Because I never let you get any.” 

Now, it was Bruno’s turn to roll his eyes, reaching around to playfully hit the other man’s arm before getting up from his desk. 

“Alright alright, I’ll come to bed. But we both know I’m the one that doesn’t let you sleep. You’re always begging for me so…” Leone pouted his bare lips. 

“Hey, we switch off…” Bruno smiled playfully, removing his suit top before tackling Leone onto the bed. 

“Then let’s see which one… happens… tonight.” 

Leone giggled as he watched his boyfriend’s attempt to dirty talk, only for it to be unfairly disrupted by his adorable yawning. He sighed and held his shorter companion in his arms as the two of them laid in bed together. 

“Alright… goodnight Bruno…” The capo blinked his eyes opened and rubbed Abbacchio’s arm. 

“I swear, I’ll take you out tomorrow night on a date to the Christmas fair. I’m just tired.”

Upon hearing his golden opportunity to propose that next day, Leone chuckled and kissed Bruno atop his head, telling his busy lover that he couldn’t wait.

Slipping the wedding band into the pocket of his overcoat, Abbacchio was just about ready to leave his room, staring at himself in the mirror and nodding. He was ready. He was gonna do it. He was finally going to man up. For Bruno’s sake. 

“Abba! Are you coming?! We need to get presents for everyone!” 

“Coming Buccellati!” 

Rushing down the stairs to join him, the two men soon leave the hideout into the snow-covered streets of Italy. It was Christmas Eve, the city abuzz with activity and the holiday spirit. Bruno, the ever-recognizable figure of the town, received his usual greetings. 

“Merry Christmas Signore Buccellati!” 

“Have a splendid holiday Buccellati!” 

“Buccellati! How about you join us for a drink? We’d be honored to spend a bit of the holiday with you!” 

Bruno courteously waved back to them all, until he was stopped in his tracks as his partner’s hand grasped his, their fingers snaking together. Bruno looked up to see Leone’s cheeks redden in jealousy. Abbacchio frowned. Sure, Bruno had an image he needed to upkeep, but it hurt that none of the people were acknowledging him. They knew his name as well. 

Bruno giggled a bit. “Jealous, Abba?” 

Leone grumbled until his gaze was directed towards the other’s ocean blue eyes. Bruno held his boyfriend’s face in his hands, stroking the other man’s sharp-angled cheekbones and jaw as if to soften them just as he softened the mafioso’s hard, tough interior. 

 “You know I love you, Leone… So much.” 

Just then, the snow began to come down harder than before, covering the two lovers in a white, wintery veil under the haze of the night. Bruno leaned up and brought his lips to Abbacchio’s, helplessly grabbing the other’s coat to remain at the taller man’s height. His lipstick painted lips smiling longingly, Moody Blues’ user wrapped his arms around Bruno, lifting him slightly off the ground. Bruno screamed from the change in altitude, causing them both to laugh, then give each other another short peck on the lips. 

Leone stared down at the love of his life. Bruno Buccellati… with his dark hair and hat covered in the white snow. With his red scarf wrapped tightly around his head to keep his sensitive ear warm, but still left a window open for his adorable freckles. With his bright eyes and even brighter smile. With his caring view of others, his willingness to protect, to be the light for others in the darkness. 

Leone gulped, he didn’t deserve him. 

Bruno shifted on his feet nervously as the young couple held one another under the heavy snowfall. The silence was bothering him. 

“Is everything alright Abbacchio?” Finally waking up from his thoughts, the taller man quickly nodded and decided it was time. 

“Everything is amazing Buccellati. I want life to be like this fore… ver.”

With a metaphorical punch to the gut, Bruno’s cell phone rang in his coat pocket, instantly grabbing the capo’s attention. Abbacchio closed his eyes, the interruption cutting deep as Bruno was pulled away from the moment again. Watching his boyfriend turn from a loving man to a calculating capo, Abbacchio soon became walking away and heading into one of the shops, wanting to clear his head. Bruno watched him leave, frowning deeply as he listened to his associate speak over the phone, his hand reaching into his pocket and taking a golden ring out, inspecting the initials of BB and LA engraved into the material. Bruno sighed, upset he had missed his chance. 

- - - - - - - -

The music gracefully flowed over the entire banquet hall, the food was being served, and secret negotiations were being made. There they were, all of Passione’s elite at Don Giovanna’s party, enjoying the immense wealth that the underground had bestowed upon them. Giorno sat in the front of the room, heavily guarded by his teammates and friends. The room, one that the Don had dubbed his second choice, glimmered with a golden sheen in the moonlight that evening. Flowers that Giorno had created himself adorned each table, as well as the perimeter of the dance floor, where the capos and other leaders were seen dancing with their partners. Everyone looked stunning. A song soon ended, with Bruno finishing his third courtesy dance with someone other than his own partner. A partner who was far too anxious to even consider dancing with his boyfriend. Mista watched his friend nervously fidget with his suit, rolling his eyes. The gunslinger watched Bruno walk over to Giorno, the capo nervously looking around the room for this love as he struck up a conversation with the head of Passione. The young blond and the gunslinger shared a glance before nodding, each turning to their respective lovesick friend. 

“Ask him already. He will say yes.” 

Mista asked Leone. Giorno asked Bruno. Both men pacing nervously back and forth, fiddling with their ring, not seeing the other at the other end of the dance hall. 

“Do you know that?” The two men asked. 

“Yes. Just trust me on this.” 

“What if he says no? I don’t deserve Bruno, Mista .”

           “What is he says no? I don’t deserve Abba, Giorno.”

Both friends sighed. “Don’t you love him?”

“...Of course I do.” 

“What do you love about him?” 

Giorno asked, causing Bruno to smile. Abbacchio smiled at Mista’s question. 

“I love how he’s not afraid to be himself.”

          “I love his patience, how he’s so willing to help me through all my dark                 times.” 

“I love his stubbornness. I love how he never backs down from a fight.”

          “I love his loud laugh when something is really funny.” 

“I love how amazing he looks in makeup.” 

          “I love how peaceful he looked waking up in the morning.”

“I love when he cooks for the two of us. He’s not very good but he tries… For me.”

          “I love when he asked me to be his boyfriend on the shores of Capri.”

                     “I love him. If it were up to me, I’d marry him right now.” 

                    “I love him so much Mista, so much. I need to go ask him.”  

Mista and Giorno both smiled, slapping their friend on the back before pushing the two men to the dance floor, only for the young couple to bump into each other. Both Leone and Bruno stared at each other with a small nervous laugh. Abbacchio gulped before taking Bruno’s hand in his. 

“Can we talk? Out on the balcony?” 

Bruno nodded quickly, pulling Leone along to the balcony of the large estate. The party far away, yet the music still pouring in, Leone moved to speak. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Bruno’s eyes widened, the gears starting to turn in his head. “U-um… I have something as well.”

“Oh wait so you go first.”

“No no Abba. I insist.”

“No, really it’s… it’s stupid.” 

Bruno reached up and cupped his lover’s cheek, smiling sweetly. 

“Amore, with you, nothing could ever be stupid. I love you.”

Oh god, he was in love. Throwing caution to the wind, Leone swiftly grabbed the ring box from his pocket and knelt down, the bright moon shining over the city reflecting off the golden ring that he was presenting for his boyfriend. 

“Bruno Buccellati… you’ve made me the man I am today. I’ve grown so much as a person ever since meeting you, and I can only pray that you’ve grown since meeting me. Bruno… Caro… Will you marry me?”

A rush of tears flooded the young capo’s eyes as he vigorously nodded, his words failing him in the time of intense emotion. A giant smile formed over Leone’s face and all worries he had were washed away with the falling snow. Quickly slipping the band on his love’s finger, Abbacchio embraced his better half, his lips crashing down on Buccellati’s. The snow fell and nestled into their expensive clothes and into their styles hair, but neither man could bring himself to leave the other’s lips. When they finally broke for air, Bruno eyed the other’s bright red cheeks through the wispy hair of his bangs. Taking the moment of distraction, Bruno brought the ring out from his own pocket and slipped it on Leone’s finger. Abbacchio looked down at the luxurious ring on his unworthy finger, and his heart fluttered in his chest. 

“Is this what you were going to tell me?” Bruno nodded, his eyes squeezing shut with joy as his whole body was consumed with happiness. 

“You just got to it before I could. I want to spend the rest of my life with you Leone.”

The two fiances embrace under the heavy snowfall, both relishing in the other’s warmth. When they finally arrived back to their table for the meal, the couple found an envelope with a note written out to them. Immediately recognizing their teammates’ handwritings, both men remained embarrassed as they read the word: 

“We knew you could do it. 

To happiness and many years together. 

Merry Christmas you two.”

            - The Don and Friends

[wordacrosstime]

Menschen im Hotel [Grand Hotel]

[Edition reviewed: Menschen im Hotel. Vicki Baum. 2007. Kiepenheuer & Witsch ISBN 9783462037982 // First editions: // Menschen im Hotel. Vicki Baum. First published 1929. // English language title: Grand Hotel. Vicki Baum. First published 1931, Doubleday Doran & Co. New York]

A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO my esteemed friend and editor of Words Across Time, John Park, asked me if I could read and then review the original German-language version of this novel. Some of you may know that this book, originally published in 1929, was eventually made into an Academy-Award-winning film a few years later, as Grand Hotel. John told me that the English translation he read seemed a bit ‘flat’, and wondered if the original German novel (or roman, as it’s known in German) had a bit more spice to it. Since I am able to read German literature (not easily, but with perseverance and industry), I accepted the challenge. Fast-forward to today: I have finished the novel, and will give a brief summary of my impressions. Again, please note that I am referring to the original German version of this novel, and not a translation.

Menschen im Hotel literally translates to People in the Hotel. The name of the hotel is, in fact, the Grand Hotel, and is situated in this novel in the heart of post-Weimar Berlin. The first impression the reader feels when starting this novel is that appositeness of the title – while the novel does indeed deal with a number of loosely intersecting personal dramas and scenarios, the hotel is at the heart of it all. It might have just as easily been entitled Das Hotel mit Menschen – Hotel with People. Because just as all roads led to Rome in ancient times, in this story, all personal trajectories intersect with or impinge upon the Grand Hotel. There is the desperate industrialist whose latest deal is failing. There is the aging prima ballerina who believes that her time for true love has come and gone. There is the terminally-ill patron who nevertheless takes a broad observational view of what’s going on around him in the Hotel with a certain amusement and even wonder. And the list goes on.

It’s a fun and fascinating glimpse at the worldviews that pervaded Germany in the years following World War I, when the economy was collapsed and an entire society was at odds with itself and the rest of the world. And yet life must go on, as indeed it does in the Grand Hotel.

On the whole, I would say that this novel, while perhaps falling short of what we might call serious fiction in the modern sense (think authors like Kingsley Amis or Donna Tartt), is by no means a pulp fiction work. It falls solidly in the spectrum of writing exemplified, for example, by novels like Dr Zhivago by Boris Pasternak, or Stamboul Train by Graham Greene. The German is quite typical of its era, and compares favorably with novels by truly giant contemporaneous writers of fiction such as Thomas Mann or Heinrich Böll, but doesn’t dive nearly as deeply into the recesses of the human experience. Rather, it treats the Hotel as a waystation for life as lived in multiple layers of socio-economic condition, age, gender, fame (or infamy), and experience.

While reading it, I remember stumbling on a passage that I thought truly exemplified the book as a whole. I will present it in the original German, and then provide a modest and approximate translation of my own:

Alles stellt man sich höher vor, bis man's gesehen hat.  Sie kommen da angereist aus ihrem Provinzwinkel mit verdrehten Ideen über das Leben.  Grand Hotel denken Sie.  Teuerstes Hotel, denken Sie.  Gott weiß, was für Wunder Sie erwarten von so einem Hotel.  Sie werden schon merken, was los ist.  Das ganze Hotel ist ein dummes Kaff.  Genau so geht's mit dem ganzen Leben.  Das ganze Leben ist ein dummes Kaff, Herr Kringelein.  Man kommt an,  man bleibt ein bißchen, man reist ab.  Passanten, verstehense.  Zu kurzem Aufenthalt, wissense.  Was tun Sie im grossen Hotel? Essen, schlafen, herumlungern, Geschäfte machen, ein bißchen flirten, ein bißchen tanzen, wie?  Na, und was tun Sie im Leben?  Hundert Türen auf einem Gang, und keiner weiß was von dem Menschen, der nebenan wohnt.  Wennse abreisen, kommt ein andrer an und legt sich in Ihr Bett.  Schluß.  Setzense sich mal so ein paar Stunden in die Halle und sehense genau hin: aber die Leute haben ja kein Gesicht!  Sie sind nur Attrappen alle miteinander.  Sie sind alle tot und wissen's gar nicht.  Schönes Kaff, so ein großes Hotel.  Grand Hotel bella vita, was?  Na, Hauptsache:  man muß seinen Koffer gepackt haben...

“One always imagines, until one has seen (for oneself). You journey here bearing your provincial views, with twisted ideas about life. ‘Grand Hotel,’ you think. ‘Expensive hotel,’ you think. God knows what sort of wonders you await at such a hotel. You will already note what is going on. The entire hotel is a stupid dump. Exactly the way it goes with all of life. The entirety of life is a stupid dump, Mr. Kringelein. One comes here, one remains a bit, one travels on.  Passers-by, you understand. For short stays, you know. What do you do in a big hotel? Eating, sleeping, loitering, shopping, a bit of flirting, a bit of dancing, what? Well, and what do you do in life? A hundred doors in one corridor, and no one knows anything about the people who live beyond them. When you travel on, another comes and lays themselves in your bed. Enough. Sit down like that for a couple of hours in the hall and look: the people truly have no faces! They are merely dummies with each other. They are all dead, and know absolutely nothing. Beautiful dump, such a large hotel. Grand Hotel beautiful life, what? Well, the main thing is this: one must have one’s suitcase packed…”

This novel captures the post-Weimar Republic zeitgeist in microcosm, and is worth reading for that alone, if one is willing to forbear the occasional existential soliloquy as exemplified above.

Photo credits: top: Vossische Zeitung, advertisement, 4 April 1929 / Vossische Zeitung, Anzeige, 4 April 1929 / thank you to Angela M Arnold, Berlin // middle: Portrait of Vicki Baum. Collection: Theatermuseum, Vienna / Porträt Vicki Baum. Sammlung: Theatermuseum, Wien. / Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien, Bilddatenbank / c 1930 by Max Fenichel  (1885–1942) // bottom; Berlin, memorial plaque for Vicki Baum, Koenigsallee 45, unveiled on October 4th, 1989 / Berlin, Gedenktafel für Vicki Baum, Koenigsallee 45, enthüllt am 04.10.1989 / photograph 15 March 2008 by and thank you to Axel Mauruszat.

Kevin Gillette

Words Across Time

18 December 2020

wordsacrosstime

[blindrapture]

Under the Read More, I will put a single-sentence question, followed by its answer. This is from Finnegans Wake. For the record, the question is asking “who was the person who matched this description.”

What secondtonone myther rector and maximost bridgesmaker was the first to rise taller through his beanstale than the bluegum buaboababbaun or the giganteous Wellingtonia Sequoia; went nudiboots with trouters into a liffeyette when she was barely in her tricklies; was well known to claud a conciliation cap onto the esker of his hooth; sports a chainganger’s albert solemenly over his hullender’s epulence; thought he weighed a new ton when there felled his first lapapple; gave the heinousness of choice to everyknight betwixt yesterdicks and twomaries; had sevenal successivecoloured serebanmaids on the same big white drawringroam horthrug; is a Willbeforce to this hour at house as he was in heather; pumped the catholick wartrey and shocked the prodestung boyne; killed his own hungery self in anger as a young man; found fodder for five when allmarken rose goflooded; with Hirish tutores Cornish made easy; voucher of rotables, toll of the road; bred manyheaded stepsons for one leapyourown taughter; is too funny for a fish and has too much outside for an insect; like a heptagon crystal emprisoms trues and fauss for us; is infinite swell in unfitting induments; once was he shovelled and once was he arsoned and once was he inundered and she hung him out billbailey; has a quadrant in his tile to tell Toler cad a’clog it is; offers chances to Long on but stands up to Legge before; found coal at the end of his harrow and mossroses behind the seams; made a fort out of his postern and wrote F.E.R.T. on his buckler; is escapemaster-in-chief from all sorts of houdingplaces; if he outharrods against barkers, to the shoolbred he acts whiteley; was evacuated at the mere appearance of three germhuns and twice besieged by a sweep; from zoomorphology to omnianimalism he is brooched by the spin of a coin; towers, an eddistoon amid the lampless, casting swannbeams on the deep; threatens thunder upon malefactors and sends whispers up fraufrau’s froufrous; when Dook Hookbackcrook upsits his ass booseworthies jeer and junket but they boos him oos and baas his aas when he lukes like Hunkett Plunkett; by sosannsos and search a party on a lady of this city; business, reading newspaper, smoking cigar, arranging tumblers on table, eating meals, pleasure, etcetera, etcetera, pleasure, eating meals, arranging tum-blers on table, smoking cigar, reading newspaper, business; minerals, wash and brush up, local views, juju toffee, comic and birthdays cards; those were the days and he was their hero; pink sunset shower, red clay cloud, sorrow of Sahara, oxhide on Iren; arraigned and attainted, listed and lited, pleaded and proved; catches his check at banck of Indgangd and endurses his doom at chapel exit; brain of the franks, hand of the christian, tongue of the north; commands to dinner and calls the bluff; has a block at Morgen’s and a hatache all the afternunch; plays gehamerat when he’s ernst but misses mausey when he’s lustyg; walked as far as the Head where he sat in state as the Rump; shows Early English tracemarks and a marigold window with manigilt lights, a myrioscope, two remarkable piscines and three wellworthseeing ambries; arches all portcullised and his nave dates from dots; is a horologe unstoppable and the Benn of all bells; fuit, isst and herit and though he’s mildewstaned he’s mouldystoned; is a quercuss in the forest but plane member for Megalopolis; mountunmighty, faunonfleetfoot; plank in our platform, blank in our scouturn; hidal, in carucates he is enumerated, hold as an earl, he counts; shipshaped phrase of buglooking words with a form like the easing moments of a graminivorous; to our dooms brought he law, our manoirs he made his vill of; was an overgrind to the underground and acqueduced for fierythroats; sends boys in socks acoughawhooping when he lets farth his carbonoxside and silk stockings show her shapings when he looses hose on hers; stocks dry puder for the Ill people and pinkun’s pellets for all the Pale; gave his mundyfoot to Miserius, her pinch to Anna Livia, that superfine pigtail to Cerisia Cerosia and quid rides to Titius, Caius and Sempronius; made the man who had no notion of shopkeepers feel he’d rather play the duke than play the gentleman; shot two queans and shook three caskles when he won his game of dwarfs; fumes inwards like a strombolist till he smokes at both ends; manmote, befier of him, womankind, pietad!; shows one white drift of snow among the gorsegrowth of his crown and a chaperon of repentance on that which shed gore; pause and quies, triple bill; went by metro for the polis and then hoved by; to the finders, hail! woa, you that seek!; whom fillth had plenished, dearth devoured; hock is leading, cocoa comes next, emery tries for the flag; can dance the O’Bruin’s polerpasse at Noolahn to his own orchistruss accompaniment; took place before the internatural convention of catholic midwives and found stead before the congress for the study of endonational calamities; makes a delictuous entrée and finishes off the course between sweets and savouries; flouts for forecasts, flairs for finds and the fun of the fray on the fairground; cleared out three hundred sixty five idles to set up one all khalassal for henwives hoping to have males; the flawhoolagh, the grasping one, the kindler of paschal fire; forbids us our trespassers as we forgate him; the phoenix be his pyre, the cineres his sire!; piles big pelium on little ossas like the pilluls of hirculeads; has an eatupus complex and a drinkthedregs kink; wurstmeats for chumps and cowcarlows for scullions; when he plies for our favour is very trolly ours; two psychic espousals and three desertions; may be matter of fact now but was futter of magd then; Cattermole Hill, exmountain of flesh was reared up by stress and sank under strain; tank it up, dank it up, tells the tailor to his tout; entoutcas for a man, but bit a thimble for a maid; blimp, blump; a dud letter, a sing a song a sylble; a byword, a sentence with surcease; while stands his canyouseehim frails shall fall; was hatched at Cellbridge but ejoculated abrood; as it gan in the biguinnengs so wound up in a battle of Boss; Roderick, Roderick, Roderick, O, you’ve gone the way of the Danes; variously catalogued, regularly regrouped; a bushboys holoday, a quacker’s mating, a wenches’ sandbath; the same homoheatherous checkinlossegg as when sollyeye airly blew ye; real detonation but false report; spa mad but inn sane; half emillian via bogus census but a no street hausmann when allphannd; is the handiest of all andies and a most alleghant spot to dump your hump; hands his secession to the new patricius but plumps plebmatically for the bloody old centuries; eats with doors open and ruts with gates closed; some dub him Rotshield and more limn him Rockyfellow; shows he’s fly to both demisfairs but thries to cover up his tracers; seven dovecotes cooclaim to have been pigeonheim to this homer, Smerrnion, Rhoebok, Kolonsreagh, Seapoint, Quayhowth, Ashtown, Ratheny; independent of the lordship of chamberlain, acknowledging the rule of Rome; we saw thy farm at Useful Prine, Domhnall, Domhnall; reeks like Illbelpaese and looks like Iceland’s ear; lodged at quot places, lived through tot reigns; takes a szumbath for his weekend and a wassarnap for his refreskment; after a good bout at stoolball enjoys Giroflee Giroflaa; what Nevermore missed and Colombo found; believes in everyman his own goaldkeeper and in Africa for the fullblacks; the arc of his drive was forty full and his stumps were pulled at eighty; boasts him to the thick-in-thews the oldest creater in Aryania and looks down on the Suiss family Collesons whom he calls les nouvelles roches; though his heart, soul and spirit turn to pharaoph times, his love, faith and hope stick to futuerism; light leglifters cense him souriantes from afore while boor browbenders curse him grommelants to his hindmost; between youlasses and yeladst glimse of Even; the Lug his peak has, the Luk his pile; drinks tharr and wodhar for his asama and eats the unparishable sow to styve off reglar rack; the beggars cloak them reclined about his paddystool, the whores winken him as they walk their side; on Christienmas at Advent Lodge, New Yealand, after a lenty illness the roeverand Mr Easterling of pentecostitis, no followers by bequest, fanfare all private; Gone Where Glory Waits Him (Ball, bulletist) but Not Here Yet (Maxwell, clark); comminxed under articles but phoenished a borgiess; from the vat on the bier through the burre in the dark to the buttle of the bawn; is A1 an the highest but Roh re his root; filled fanned of hackleberries whenas all was tuck and toss up for him as a yangster to fall fou of hockinbechers wherein he had gauged the use of raisin; ads aliments, das doles, raps rustics, tams turmoil; sas seed enough for a semination but sues skivvies on the sly; learned to speak from hand to mouth till he could talk earish with his eyes shut; hacked his way through hickheckhocks but hanged hishelp from there hereafters; rialtos, annesleyg, binn and balls to say nothing atolk of New Comyn; the gleam of the glow of the shine of the sun through the dearth of the dirth on the blush of the brick of the viled ville of Barnehulme has dust turned to brown; these dyed to tartan him, rueroot, dulse, bracken, teasel, fuller’s ash, sundew and cress; long gunn but not for cotton; stood his sharp assault of famine but grew girther, girther and girther; he has twenty four or so cousins germinating in the United States of America and a namesake with an initial difference in the once kingdom of Poland; his first’s a young rose and his second’s French-Egyptian and his whole means a slump at Christie’s; forth of his pierced part came the woman of his dreams, blood thicker then water last trade overseas; buyshop of Glintylook, eorl of Hoed; you and I are in him surrented by brwn bldns; Elin’s flee polt pelhaps but Hwang Chang evelytime; he one was your of highbigpipey boys but fancy him as smoking fags his at time of life; Mount of Mish, Mell of Moy; had two cardinal ventures and three capitol sinks; has a peep in his pocketbook and a packetboat in his keep; B.V.H., B.L.G., P.P.M., T.D.S., V.B.D., T.C.H., L.O.N.; is Breakfates, Lunger, Diener and Souper; as the streets were paved with cold he felt his topperairy; taught himself skating and learned how to fall; distinctly dirty but rather a dear; hoveth chieftains evrywehr, with morder; Ostman Effendi, Serge Paddishaw; baases two mmany, outpriams al’ his parisites; first of the fenians, roi des fainéants; his Tiara of scones was held unfillable till one Liam Fail felled him in Westmunster; was struck out of his sittem when he rowed saulely to demask us and to our appauling predicament brought as plagues from Buddapest; put a matchhead on an aspenstalk and set the living a fire; speared the rod and spoiled the lightning; married with cakes and repunked with pleasure; till he was buried howhappy was he and he made the welkins ring with Up Micawber!; god at the top of the staircase, carrion on the mat of straw; the false hood of a spindler web chokes the cavemouth of his unsightliness but the nestlings that liven his leafscreen sing him a lover of arbuties; we strike hands over his bloodied warsheet but we are pledged entirely to his green mantle; our friend vikelegal, our swaran foi; under the four stones by his streams who vanished the wassailbowl at the joy of shells; Mora and Lora had a hill of a high time looking down on his confusion till firm look in readiness, forward spear and the windfoot of curach strewed the lakemist of Lego over the last of his fields; we darkened for you, faulterer, in the year of mourning but we’ll fidhil to the dimtwinklers when the streamy morvenlight calls up the sunbeam; his striped pantaloons, his rather strange walk; hereditatis columna erecta, hagion chiton eraphon; nods a nap for the nonce but crows cheerio when they get ecunemical; is a simultaneous equator of elimbinated integras when three upon one is by inspection improper; has the most conical hodpiece of confusianist heronim and that chuchuffuous chinchin of his is like a footsey kungoloo around Taishantyland; he’s as globeful as a gasometer of lithium and luridity and he was thrice ten anular years before he wallowed round Raggiant Circos; the cabalstone at the coping of his cavin is a canine constant but only an amirican could apparoxemete the apeupresiosity of his atlast’s alongement; sticklered rights and lefts at Baddersdown in his hunt for the boar trwth but made his end with the modareds that came at him in Camlenstrete; a hunnibal in exhaustive conflict, an otho to return; burning body to aiger air on melting mountain in wooing wave; we go into him sleepy children, we come out of him strucklers for life; he divested to save from the Mrs Drownings their rival queens while Grimshaw, Bragshaw and Renshaw made off with his storen clothes; taxed and rated, licensed and ranted; his threefaced stonehead was found on a whitehorse hill and the print of his costellous feet is seen in the goat’s grasscircle; pull the blind, toll the deaf and call dumb, lame and halty; Miraculone, Monstrucceleen; led the upplaws at the Creation and hissed a snake charmer off her stays; hounded become haunter, hunter become fox; harrier, marrier, terrier, tav; Olaph the Oxman, Thorker the Tourable; you feel he is Vespasian yet you think of him as Aurelius; whugamore, tradertory, socianist, commoniser; made a summer assault on our shores and begiddy got his sands full; first he shot down Raglan Road and then he tore up Marlborough Place; Cromlechheight and Crommalhill were his farfamed feetrests when our lurch as lout let free into the Lubar heloved; mareschalled his wardmotes and delimited the main; netted before nibbling, can scarce turn a scale but, grossed after meals, weighs a town in himself; Banba prayed for his conversion, Beurla missed that grand old voice; a Colossus among cabbages, the Melarancitrone of fruits; larger than life, doughtier than death; Gran Turco, orege forment; lachsembulger, leperlean; the sparkle of his genial fancy, the depth of his calm sagacity, the clearness of his spotless honour, the flow of his boundless benevolence; our family furbear, our tribal tarnpike; quary was he invincibled and cur was he burked; partitioned Irskaholm, united Irishmen; he took a svig at his own methyr but she tested a bit gorky and as for the salmon he was coming up in him all life long; comm, eilerdich hecklebury and sawyer thee, warden; silent as the bee in honey, stark as the breath on hauwck, Costello, Kinsella, Mahony, Moran, though you rope Amrique your home ruler is Dan; figure right, he is hoisted by the scurve of his shaggy neck, figure left, he is rationed in isobaric patties among the crew; one asks was he poisoned, one thinks how much did he leave; ex-gardener (Riesengebirger), fitted up with planturous existencies would make Roseoogreedy (mite’s) little hose; taut sheets and scuppers awash but the oil silk mack Liebsterpet micks his aquascutum; the enjoyment he took in kay women, the employment he gave to gee men; sponsor to a squad of piercers, ally to a host of rawlies; against lightning, explosion, fire, earthquake, flood, whirlwind, burglary, third party, rot, loss of cash, loss of credit, impact of vehicles; can rant as grave as oxtail soup and chat as gay as a porto flippant; is unhesitent in his unionism and yet a pigotted nationalist; Sylviacola is shy of him, Matrosenhosens nose the joke; shows the sinews of peace in his chest-o-wars; fiefeofhome, ninehundred and thirtunine years of copyhold; is aldays open for polemypolity’s sake when he’s not suntimes closed for the love of Janus; sucks life’s eleaxir from the pettipickles of the Jewess and ruoulls in sulks if any popeling runs down the Huguenots; Boomaport, Walleslee, Ubermeerschall Blowcher and Supercharger, Monsieur Ducrow, Mister Mudson, master gardiner; to one he’s just paunch and judex, to another full of beans and brehons; hallucination, cauchman, ectoplasm; passed for baabaa blacksheep till he grew white woo woo woolly; was drummatoysed by Mac Milligan’s daughter and put to music by one shoebard; all fitzpatricks in his emirate remember him, the boys of wetford hail him babu; indanified himself with boro tribute and was schenkt publicly to brigstoll; was given the light in drey orchafts and entumuled in threeplexes; his likeness is in Terrecuite and he giveth rest to the rainbowed; lebriety, frothearnity and quality; his reverse makes a virtue of necessity while his obverse mars a mother by invention; beskilk his gunwale and he’s the second imperial, untie points, unhook tenters and he’s lath and plaster; calls upon Allthing when he fails to appeal to Eachovos; basidens, ardree, kongsemma, rexregulorum; stood into Dee mouth, then backed broadside on Baulacleeva; either eldorado or ultimate thole; a kraal of fou feud fires, a crawl of five pubs; laid out lashings of laveries to hunt down his family ancestors and then pled double trouble or quick quits to hush the buckers up; threw pebblets for luck over one sodden shoulder and dragooned peoplades armed to their teeth; pept as Gaudio Gambrinus, grim as Potter the Grave; ace of arts, deuce of damimonds, trouble of clubs, fear of spates; cumbrum, cumbrum, twiniceynurseys fore a drum but tre to uno tips the scale; reeled the titleroll opposite a brace of girdles in Silver on the Screen but was sequenced from the set as Crookback by the even more titulars, Rick, Dave and Barry; he can get on as early as the twentysecond of Mars but occasionally he doesn’t come offbefore Virgintiquinque Germinal; his Indian name is Hapapoosiesobjibway and his number in arithmosophy is the stars of the plough; took weapon in the province of the pike and let fling his line on Eelwick; moves in vicous cicles yet remews the same; the drain rats bless his offals while the park birds curse his floodlights; Portobello, Equadocta, Therecocta, Percorello; he pours into the softclad shellborn the hard cash earned in Watling Street; his birth proved accidental shows his death its grave mistake; brought us giant ivy from the land of younkers and bewitthered Apostolopolos with the gale of his gall; while satisfied that soft youthful bright matchless girls should bosom into fine silkclad joyous blooming young women is not so pleased that heavy swearsome strongsmelling irregularshaped men should blottout active handsome wellformed frankeyed boys; herald hairyfair, alloaf the wheat; husband your aunt and endow your nepos; hearken but hush it, screen him and see; time is, an archbishopric, time was, a tradesmen’s entrance; beckburn brooked with wath, scale scarred by scow; his rainfall is a couple of kneehighs while his meanst grass temperature marked three in the shade; is the meltingpoint of snow and the bubblingplace of alcohol; has a tussle with the trulls and then does himself justice; hinted at in the eschatological chapters of Humphrey’s Justesse of the Jaypees and hunted for by Theban recensors who sniff there’s something behind the Bug of the Deaf; the king was in his cornerwall melking mark so murry, the queen was steep in armbour feeling fain and furry, the mayds was midst the hawthorns shoeing up their hose, out pimps the back guards (pomp!) and pump gun they goes; to all his foretellers he reared a stone and for all his comethers he planted a tree; forty acres, sixty miles, white stripe, red stripe, washes his fleet in annacrwatter; whou missed a porter so whot shall he do for he wanted to sit for Pimploco but they’ve caught him to stand for Sue?; Dutchlord, Dutchlord, overawes us; Headmound, king and martyr, dunstung in the Yeast, Pitre-le-Pore-in Petrin, Barth-the-Grete-by-the-Exchange; he hestens towards dames troth and wedding hand like the prince of Orange and Nassau while he has trinity left behind him like Bowlbeggar Bill-the-Bustonly; brow of a hazelwood, pool in the dark; changes blowicks into bullocks and a well of Artesia into a bird of Arabia; the handwriting on his facewall, the cryptoconchoidsiphonostomata in his exprussians; his birthspot lies beyond the herospont and his burialplot in the pleasant little field; is the yldist kiosk on the pleninsula and the unguest hostel in Saint Scholarland; walked many hundreds and many score miles of streets and lit thousands in one nightlights in hectares of windows; his great wide cloak lies on fifteen acres and his little white horse decks by dozens our doors; O sorrow the sail and woe the rudder that were set for Mairie Quai!; his suns the huns, his dartars the tartars, are plenty here today; who repulsed from his burst the bombolts of Ostenton and falchioned each flash downsaduck in the deep; apersonal problem, a locative enigma; upright one, vehicule of arcanisation in the field, lying chap, floodsupplier of celiculation through ebblanes; a part of the whole as a port for a whale; Dear Hewitt Castello, Equerry, were daylighted with our outing and are looking backwards to unearly summers, from Rhoda Dundrums; is above the seedfruit level and outside the leguminiferous zone; when older links lock older hearts then he’ll resemble she; can be built with glue and clippings, scrawled or voided on a buttress; the night express sings his story, the song of sparrownotes on his stave of wires; he crawls with lice, he swarms with saggarts; is as quiet as a mursque but can be as noisy as a sonogog; was Dilmun when his date was palmy and Mudlin when his nut was cracked; suck up the sease, lep laud at ease, one lip on his lap and one cushlin his crease; his porter has a mighty grasp and his baxters the boon of broadwhite; as far as wind dries and rain eats and sun turns and water bounds he is exalted and depressed, assembled and asundered; go away, we are deluded, come back, we are disghosted; bored the Ostrov, leapt the Inferus, swam the Mabbul and flure the Moyle; like fat, like fatlike tallow, of greasefulness, yea of dripping greasefulness; did not say to the old, old, did not say to the scorbutic, scorbutic; he has founded a house, Uru, a house he has founded to which he has assigned its fate; bears a raaven geulant on a fjeld duiv; ruz the halo offhis varlet when he appeared to his shecook as Haycock, Emmet, Boaro, Toaro, Osterich, Mangy and Skunk; pressed the beer of aled age out of the nettles of rashness; put a roof on the lodge for Hymn and a coq in his pot pro homo; was dapifer then pancircensor then hortifex magnus; the topes that tippled on him, the types that toppled off him; still starts our hares yet gates our goat; pocketbook packetboat, gapman gunrun; the light of other days, dire dreary darkness; our awful dad, Timour of Tortur; puzzling, startling, shocking, nay, perturbing; went puffing from king’s brugh to new customs, doffing the gibbous off him to every breach of all size; with Pa’s new heft and Papa’s new helve he’s Papapa’s old cutlass Papapapa left us; when youngheaded oldshouldered and middlishneck aged about; caller herring everydaily, turgid tarpon overnight; see Loryon the comaleon that changed endocrine history by loeven his loaf with forty bannucks; she drove him dafe till he driv her blind up; the pigeons doves be perchin all over him one day on Baslesbridge and the ravens duv be pitchin their dark nets after him the next night behind Koenigstein’s Arbour; tronf of the rep, comf of the priv, prosp of the pub; his headwood it’s ideal if his feet are bally clay; he crashed in the hollow of the park, trees down, as he soared in the vaguum of the phoenix, stones up; looks like a moultain boultter and sounds like a rude word; the mountain view, some lumin pale round a lamp of succar in boinyn water; three shots a puddy at up blup saddle; made up to Miss MacCormack Ni Lacarthy who made off with Darly Dermod, swank and swarthy; once diamond cut garnet now dammat cuts groany; you might find him at the Florence but watch our for him in Wynn’s Hotel; theer’s his bow and wheer’s his leaker and heer lays his bequiet hearse, deep; Swed Albiony, likeliest villain of the place; Hennery Canterel—Cockran, eggotisters, limitated; we take our tays and frees our fleas round sadurn’s mounted foot; built the Lund’s kirk and destroyed the church’s land; who guesse his title grabs his deeds; fletch and prities, fash and chaps; artful Juke of Wilysly; Hugglebelly’s Funniral; Kukkuk Kallikak; heard in camera and excruciated; boon when with benches billeted, bann if buckshotbackshattered; heavengendered, chaosfoedted, earthborn; his father presumptively ploughed it deep on overtime and his mother as all evince must have travailled her fair share; a footprinse on the Megacene, hetman unwhorsed by Searingsand; honorary captain of the extemporised fire brigade, reported to be friendly with the police; the door is still open; the old stock collar is coming back; not forgetting the time you laughed at Elder Charterhouse’s duckwhite pants and the way you said the whole township can see his hairy legs; by stealth of a kersse her aulburntress abaft his nape she hung; when his kettle became a hearthsculdus our thorstyites set their lymphyamphyre; his yearletter concocted by masterhands of assays, his hallmark imposed by the standard of wrought plate; a pair of pectorals and a triplescreen to get a wind up; lights his pipe with a rosin tree and hires a towhorse to haul his shoes; cures slavey’s scurvy, breaks barons boils; called to sell polosh and was found later in a bedroom; has his seat of justice, his house of mercy, his com o’copious and his stacks a’rye; prospector, he had a rooksacht, retrospector, he holds the holpenstake; won the freedom of new yoke for the minds of jugoslaves; acts active, peddles in passivism and is a gorgon of selfridgeousness; pours a laughsworth of his illformation over a larmsworth of salt; half heard the single maiden speech La Belle spun to her Grand Mount and wholed a lifetime by his ain fireside, wondering was it hebrew set to himmeltones or the quicksilversong of qwaternions; his troubles may be over but his doubles have still to come; the lobster pot that crabbed our keel, the garden pet that spoiled our squeezed peas; he stands in a lovely park, sea is not far, importunate towns of X, Y and Z are easily over reached; is an excrescence to civilised humanity and but a wart on Europe; wanamade singsigns to soundsense an yit he wanna git all his flesch nuemaid motts truly prural and plusible; has excisively large rings and is uncustomarily perfumed; lusteth ath he listeth the cleah whithpeh of a themise; is a prince of the fingallian in a hiberniad of hoolies; has a hodge to wherry him and a frenchy to curry him and a brabanson for his beeter and a fritz at his switch; was waylaid of a parker and beschotten by a buckeley; kicks lintils when he’s cuppy and casts Jacob’s arroroots, dime after dime, to poor waifstrays on the perish; reads the charms of H. C. Endersen all the weaks of his evenin and the crimes of Ivaun the Taurrible every strongday morn; soaps you soft to your face and slaps himself when he’s badend; owns the bulgiest bungbarrel that ever was tiptapped in the privace of the Mullingar Inn; was bom with a nuasilver tongue in his mouth and went round the coast of Iron with his lift hand to the scene; raised but two fingers and yet smelt it would day; for whom it is easier to found a see in Ebblannah than for I or you to find a dubbeltye in Dampsterdamp; to live with whom is a lifemayor and to know whom a liberal education; was dipped in Hoily Olives and chrysmed in Scent Otooles; hears cricket on the earth but annoys the life out of predikants; still turns the durc’s ear of Darius to the now thoroughly infurioted one of God; made Man with juts that jerk and minted money mong maney; likes a six acup pudding when he’s come whome sweetwhome; has come through all the eras of livsadventure from moonshine and shampaying down to clouts and pottled porter; woollem the farsed, hahnreich the althe, charge the sackend, writchad the thord; if a mandrake shricked to convultures at last surviving his birth the weibduck will wail bitternly over the rotter’s resurrection; loses weight in the moon night but gird girder by the sundawn; with one touch of nature set a veiled world agrin and went within a sheet of tissuepaper of the option of three gaols; who could see at one blick a saumon taken with a lance, hunters pursuing a doe, a swallowship in full sail, a whyterobe lifting a host; faced flappery like old King Cnut and turned his back like Cincinnatus; is a farfar and morefar and a hoar father Nakedbucker in villas old as new; squats aquart and cracks aquaint when it’s flaggin in town and on haven; blows whiskery around his summit but stehts stout upon his footles; stutters fore he falls and goes mad entirely when he’s waked; is Timb to the pearly mom and Tomb to the mourning night; and an he had the best bunbaked bricks in bould Babylon for his pitching plays he’d be lost for the want of his wan wubblin wall?

Answer: Finn MacCool!

[void-whisper]

leo! this is a very late one but! i have some numbers for you: 4, 21, 28, 29, 47, 50, 59, 60, 61, 62, 76 (ò3ó REVENGE), 90, 98!

Oh!! Hello there, sunshine of mine!! Thank you for the ask!! 🥰🌻

——–

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Oh, like, a very smart, dedicated and hyperactive kid, that talked too much and had, a very small attention span, which, to be honest, is very very valid (Poor teacher that had to deal with smol Leo, he was a devil).

21. obsession from childhood?

Okay, listen, I had Mew vs. Mewtwo on DVD, and it came with Pikachu’s Vacation, and like, I watched that, so many times the DVD would not ever run anymore, and also, I had cable at home with Cartoon Network, so, there was just a lot of Pokemon okay, don’t judge me >////////////

28. five songs to describe you?

Oh, this one is, very hard, specially bc, I’m the worst at describing myself, I think I’ll skip it, and if I can think about anything I’ll edit the post and add it. 🙈

29. best way to bond with you?

Tell me all the things, like, things you are passionate about! Or like, recommend me songs! Or talk to me about d&d!! I’m a pretty easy going person ^^

47. favorite type of cheese?

So it seems you are exacting vengeance upon my ask huh! òó

I’ll say, mozzarella, bc it’s the the one I’ve eaten most here

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

I actually don’t know how to answer this one bc like, I’m a dumbass okay, I just fall laughing every two hours bc of my own jokes that I cannot even finish telling, you know how it is, I think the worst one was when I was in high school and me and a couple of ex friends said smth really dumb, that made like, no sense, and we just, laughed our asses off in the middle of class while everyone else just stood there looking, it was, something, I don’t remember what it was, but 15 yo me decided it was the funniest thing in the universe.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

- Oh!

- Ohno

- It be like that some times

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Okay, I don’t know much about anime but like, there is that one about camping (I think it’s called “Yuru Camp”?) that is very fucking cute, and I would like if it was like that, just very chill (I have not watched it but I’ve seen some screen shots and it looks very cute okay).

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Okay, listen this is your fault, it’s one of my favourite quotes ever:

“When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, and clumsy.”

—Griffin McElroy, Ep. 66 The Stolen Century - Chapter Seven.

And:

“But remember, boy, that a kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword. As a mortal, I was never a great fighter or athlete or poet. I only made wine. The people in my village laughed at me. They said I would never amount to anything. Look at me now. Sometimes small things can become very large indeed.”        ―Rick Riordan,The Battle of the Labyrinth.

62. seven characters you relate to?

I should like, really answer this kind of thing when it’s not like 2 am >////

- Steven Universe

- Magnus Burnsides

- Sokka (Later Seasons)

- Bolin!

- Leo Valdez! (From HoO!)

These are the ones I can think of atm, but like, if I remember any others I’ll add it later. 🙈🙈🙈

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

MASHED POTATOES BC, THEY ARE THE BEST, AND ALSO BC IT’S ONE OF THE ONLY POTATO FOODS I’VE EATEN EVER, BC APPARENTLY THERE ARE 7.000x OF POTATO FOOD IN GERMANY.

90. luckiest mistake?

… I can’t think of any cool mistakes at the moment >//////////

98. favorite historical era?

OH!! Well, I was very much into Ancient Greece, bc… Percy Jackson, and then, I kinda got into a lot of the revolution stuff in the ~1700, but like, my history knowledge is very limited to the Eurocentric stuff they teach in high school here. I would like to learn more about the stuff in the Orient and the Americas though, bc it very much feels like the rest of the world did not exist before Europe, which is, bullshit.

Sorry for the small rant, but yeah, like, the fall of monarchies is pretty great, and ancient Greece and forward to like the fall of Rome as well in general ^^

[reallyromealone]

hii Rome, i really enjoyed the xiao fic u made where tighnari was readers and xiaos kid and i was wondering if u could make part 2? ty <333

Sure!

Tighnari was surprisingly a quiet pup, rarely crying unless he was hungry or needed a change.

"Why so many tears? I'm here" (name) teased the six month old pup who clutched onto (name) like a lifeline "did someone get lonely?" (Name) gently pet his pups ear, smiling as Tighnari kicked his little foot in joy as a tiny purr rippled through him "such a good boy..."

(Name) wandered the Halls of the inn as the tiny pup in his arms snuggled into his chest while looking up at him with wide eyes "when your bigger maybe you can join me in my garden, so many cool things I can't wait to show you"

Xiao watched at a distance as his mate spoke so lovingly to the product of their love, Tighnaris tiny little tail wagging excitedly as his dam spoke to him like he was the most important thing in his world.

"Shouldn't you two be asleep?" Xiao finally asked as he walked behind (name), resting his head on his mates shoulder and peered down to his pup who chewed on his chubby little hand "he couldn't sleep..." (Name) mumbled softly as the small family stood in the hallway of the inn, both parents cooing and doting on the fox pup who soaked it up.

"Let's go to sleep, little pups need energy to face the day"

X

"Papa! Look!" Tighnari said as he held the hand of another pup, the four year old looking very pleased with his new friend "oh? Whose this?"

"This is my new best friend Cyno!"Tighnari said excitedly "he also thinks plants are cool!"

The family decided to visit Sumeru for a few weeks, Tighnari facinated with the plants and such and vowed to protect sumerus forest after being told nature is delicate.

"That's very lovely, I'm sure you two will be life long friends" Xiao said as the two boys ran off to go play as (name) spoke off in the distance with Tighnaris grandfather about possibly having Tighnari learn archery as the tot was deeply facinated by it and Xiao let his mate handle it, knowing he had it handled.

When the night came Tighnari was passed out in Xiaos arms, lears twitching as he dreamed happy dreams "so what did your father say?" Xiao asked as they tucked their pup into his bed, the pup sucking his thumb as he snuggled into the soft plush bed.

"He wants to surprise him in the morning with his old bow, he's gonna be so excited" (name) said fondly as they watched the pup sleep.

"He wants to be "the watcher of the Forest" when he's older" Xiao said softly as they walked out of the pups room that was covered with pictures of plants and animals and many stuffed toys of both Liyue and Sumerus wildlife.

"He will be excellent at it, he's our pup after all"

[jroemer20ahsgov]

BLOG POST #2: Media Assessment of Green Energy

CONSERVATIVE:  https://www.foxnews.com/opinion/daniel-turner-california-green-energy-pay-to-play-politics

Subject: 

Green energy is expensive and only benefit the green energy lobbyists.

Author: Daniel Turner

White, male, middle aged

Lives in Washington, DC

Native of Queens, NY 

Founder and Executive Director of Power The Future 

Has a degree in Philosophy from the Pontifical University of Rome 

Context:

Posted by Fox News on June 23, 2019

Since Fox News posted the article, it is going to be more conservative

It was posted very recently so the topic is very relevant and more reliable than an old article 

Audience:

The source was created for all voters but more specifically for the right which means the article has conservative bias, making it less reliable.

Perspective:

Subjective

The author claims that green energy does not help reduce carbon emissions, is too expensive, and the government and “green energy lobbyists” work together to make huge profits.

I disagree with the claim because green energy does reduce carbon emissions but there must be a significant amount of people using this type of energy for there to be big change.

Significance:

Evidence:

“A recent report from the University of Chicago found that these mandates are ‘inefficient in reducing carbon emissions,’ but do hike electricity prices as much as 17 percent”

“The Los Angeles Times reports that in California, hydropower near Yosemite National Park, which has ‘been churning out carbon-free electricity for nearly a century,’ is somehow not counted as green.” 

“Los Angeles Times’ editorial board blasted state lawmakers for attempting to create a ‘slush fund’ out of California’s cap-and-trade system”

LIBERAL:  https://www.cnn.com/2018/10/03/energy/us-oil-rejects-renewable-energy/index.html

Subject:

Oil companies are investing in clean energy, more so European oil companies than American companies.

Author:  Matt Egan

Writer for CNN

Lives in New Jersey

Works in New York, NY

He used to work for the Fox Business Network, mostly covering the stock market

Born in Bogotá, Columbia

Mid 30′s

Context:

Posted by CNN on October 8, 2018

This was almost a year ago so the source might not be up to date which could make it inaccurate for today. Also, CNN is shifted more to the left so the article could have a liberal bias.

Audience:

The source was created for common people to be exposed to the oil companies investing in clean energy.

Perspective:

Subjective

the article talks about the alternate green energy sources big oil companies are investing in and is asking why some companies aren’t investing in green energy sources

the article doesn’t address the perspective of the oil companies who are unwilling to invest in green energy and why they choose not to do so

I agree with the need to invest in green energy since oil is a non renewable resource that we will eventually run out of

Significance:

Evidence:

Big Oil would have to spend $350 billion on wind and solar by 2035 to match the 12% market share it holds in global oil and gas, Wood Mackenzie estimates.

"At some point in the future, the oil and gas market will start to get squeezed as the energy transition takes off," Ellacott said.

"Exxon thinks they can ride it out. They'll be the last to move," said Jeff McDermott, managing partner at Greentech Capital Advisors, a sustainable energy investment firm.

"The risk is there's a game-changing technology that brings forward peak oil demand," Ellacott said.    

Not only is BP acquiring electric vehicle charging company Chargemaster, last year it placed a $200 million bet on solar by purchasing a stake in Lightsource, Europe's largest solar development company. 

France's Total, spent $1.4 billion in 2011 to acquire a majority stake in San Jose, California-based solar panel maker SunPower (SPWR). 

In 2016, Total (TOT) paid $1.1 billion to buy Saft Group, a manufacturer of lithium-ion batteries used to power electric vehicles. 

Chevron said it's taking "prudent, practical and cost-effective actions to address potential climate change risks." That includes investing about $1.1 billion in carbon capture and storage projects in Australia and Canada and recently launching a $100 million Future Energy Fund to invest in "breakthrough technologies." 

Swarup is most excited about Exxon's research over the past decade into algae biofuels as a way to power heavy-duty trucks or even airplanes. Exxon and biotech firm Synthetic Genomics recently achieved a technical breakthrough on algae by using advanced cell engineering. 

OBJECTIVE:  https://www.npr.org/2018/09/10/646373423/california-sets-goal-of-100-percent-renewable-electric-power-by-2045?t=1567665657874

Subject:

California’s goal is to reach 100 percent clean electric power by 2045

Author: Camila Domonoske

Reporter

She covers cars, energy and the future of mobility for NPR's Business Desk

White, female

Graduated from Davidson College in North Carolina 

Context:

September 10, 2018

This was a year ago so the source might not be up to date which could make it inaccurate  

Audience:

the sources was created for anyone interested making it more reliable since it does not target a specific group of people

Perspective:

Objective

Different perspectives: 

Switching to 100 percent clean energy 

Switch to 100 percent clean energy is not be feasible

I agree with eventually switching to 100 percent clean energy even if it does take time to switch over and for technology to advance.

Significance:

Evidence:

Gov. Jerry Brown signed a bill mandating the electricity target on Monday. He also issued an executive order calling for statewide carbon neutrality — meaning California "removes as much carbon dioxide from the atmosphere as it emits" — by the same year.

The bill specifically requires that 50 percent of California's electricity to be powered by renewable resources by 2025 and 60 percent by 2030, while calling for a "bold path" toward 100 percent zero-carbon electricity by 2045.

variability means it's tricky to get renewable energy supply to match up with electricity demand... Large-scale energy storage systems can help address that problem, Sommer said, as could a "better-connected transmission grid system."

California's utilities had been on track to meet the previous goal, of 50 percent clean power by 2030, "but scientists debate whether cost-efficient 100 percent clean energy is feasible or if it would require new technological advances," Bradford wrote. 

SIMILARITIES: 

They all touch on the problems with switching to green energy and how the trend is investing in and/or switching to green energy

The objective article touches on the difficulties in switching to clean energy as well as the conservative article

DIFFERENCES:

The conservative article is against green energy while the liberal article is for green energy

The liberal article is about oil companies investing in green energy while the objective article is about completely switching to green energy

I relate the most to the objective article since I live in California and believe that switching to clean energy will be beneficial. I also understand that switching to clean energy is very difficult and costly so it will take time to reach that 100 percent.

[weissvsaiyuki]

New Weiss Kreuz Works

Weiss Kreuz fans submitted 35 new works to the “Last Dance” 20th anniversary battle! The battle has now ended; please enjoy all these great efforts and PLEASE leave our hard-working creators feedback.

Please signal boost this post even harder than you’d throw a katana at a Takatori helicopter.

Links & synopses for all 35 works:

“All Eyes But These Eyes” by the_rck. “He looked at each member of his team in turn. ‘We're the third team they've sent,’ he reminded them. ‘The first team disappeared entirely. The second...’ He cleared his throat. ‘The second came back in pieces.’“

“Bargain Basement” by daegaer. Crawford/Schuldig drabble. For the prompt “Crawford/Schuldig - buying Schuldig at an auction.”

“The Better Part Of” by lady_ganesh. “The party was not quite winding down, but there were lulls, and a man could safely retire to the library to get a little peace and quiet. At least, that had been Nagi Naoe's plan.”

“The Broken” by lady_ganesh. pre-Crawford/Schuldig. “Schuldig has burned through his teammates one too many times; Crawford is his last chance.”

“Carry It” by the_rck. “Because Yohji had only the vaguest idea of what he was doing, it took them five jumps to get close to the right time. Yohji was all set to try again, but Asuka overruled him. ‘Four years early,’ she said, ‘isn't so bad. We'll need that time to prepare.’“

“Centuries of Nerve” by the_rck. Chapter 1 of the second story in a series. “Neither Schuldig nor Yohji mentioned that Schuldig knew that Yohji had cried in the shower, Yohji because he wanted to pretend that Schuldig didn't know and Schuldig because he wanted to let Yohji keep some dignity...”

“Contracted” and “Honest Work” and “Playing the Odds” and “Cargo” and “Journey’s End” by daegaer. For the prompt: “Nagi/Omi, sci-fi AU. Space pirate and smuggler Nagi finds himself strangely compelled to help Omi, a lowly bodyguard who is secretly the illegitimate heir to the Takatori planetary system, make his way home and reclaim his birthright.”

“Debt” by mami. Crawford/Yohji. For the prompt: “Enemies who keep their word, ‘You and your friends will be safe.’ ‘You'll survive.’”

“The Dream Team” by mami. Part 1. For the prompt: “WK-Inception crossover. In creating this new field, the corporate and military interests behind dreamshare are more invested in the short-term benefits of the technology and pharmaceuticals and less concerned with the long-term side effects and changes. Brad Crawford and Schuldig start to develop what might be termed, among the more credulous of the scientific community, extrasensory perception. Or they might just be losing their grip on reality.”

“Farce” by viridian5. Crawford/Schuldig. For the prompt “20 years later.”

“Finding An Exit” by daegaer. Crawford/Schuldig. For the prompt “Six times in Schuldig’s life he has tried to get rid of his telepathy.”

“Fuildoirteadh” by daegaer. “Imperial Rome AU; Sesithacus has had enough of Celtic religion; the title means ‘bloodshed.’“

“Gathered from the Gales” by the_rck. “Nagi agreed to sex with Crawford and Schuldig, agreed to act as Dom for them for one night for mutual pleasure. He should have asked more questions because what he got was a hell of a lot more complicated.”

“Ghost Coffee” by daegaer. Drabble.

“Glass Houses” (installment) by viridian5. (Ongoing work on AO3 here.) “Brad, I think I know a way we can ask Kritiker for work without losing too much face.”

“Homeward Bound” by daegaer. Crawford/Ran, Nagi/Tot. (previous installments: “Facing Reality,” “First Jump,” “Paying Guests,” “Approach Velocity,” “Navigating Futures,” “Bad People,” “Down Time”) For the prompt “Crawford/Ran future reincarnation fic: belonging together”; Space Opera!

“Keeping Score” by amiko. For the prompt “Three times Yohji sent Schuldig to the hospital, four times Schuldig sent Yohji to the hospital.”

“Love Runs Out” by lokuro. Fanvid. “Schwarz-centric fanvid. ‘We want to see to see this world burn. We want to see it fall to pieces and create perfect CHAOS.’“

“Negotiations” by somali77. For the prompt “Captive Yohji attempts to seduce Crawford in an effort to improve his circumstances.”

“Nothing But The...” by lady_ganesh. “Mamoru pressed his head back against the wall. He could wait this out. He'd waited out worse. There wasn't really any such thing as truth serum. There are things that make you drunk, make you talk. That was different.”

“One More Folded Sunset” by the_rck. Crawford/Schuldig, background Crawford/Manx. “//Brad, where the fuck are we?// Once he was sure he had a connection to Brad’s mind, he opened his eyes. He felt safer that way.”

“Psi Corp Vs Schwarz” by lokuro - fanvid. For the prompt “Schuldig in the Babylon 5 Psi Corps.” “The Corps is mother. The Corps is father.”

“Ran & Aya comic” by amiko.

“Recurrent” by lauand. Crawford/Schuldig fanart.

“Request Denied” by mami. For the prompt “Nagi and Schuldig draw up a wildly optimistic list of what they would most like in a new team leader after their former team leader is killed. Rosenkreuz must not be amused by the request, because they send Brad Crawford, who fulfills none of these qualities. The Irishman they've sent along for good measure is probably also a dire message.”

“Road to Hell” by mami. For the prompt “Crawford/Schuldig. Once graduated and out in the field, Rosenkreuz is alarmed to learn just how powerful (and potentially uncontrollable) Schuldig is. They send one of their best operatives, Crawford, to kill him.”

“This Rabbit is Dynamite” by somali77. For the prompt: "Kritiker has been pushing for one of Weiss to go through an experimental procedure that is supposed to turn them into an unstoppable ferocious animal-men, like a werewolf, based on an old grimoire they found. To get them to shut up, Omi does it himself. It works. Sort of."

“Schu & Aya-chan” by amiko. Fanart.

Untitled as of yet and Untitled as of yet (art) by lauand. Crawford/Schuldig. “Schuldig woke up with a terrible, terrible headache. He opened his eyes to something that looked like a wet, glassless, disheveled Crawford would look if Crawford could pull off the wet, glassless and disheveled look without spontaneously combusting in the process.”

“Untitled Too” by lauand. Fanart: “Crawford unable to enjoy nature, Schuldig able to enjoy Crawford's unhappiness.”

“Werewolves of Tokyo” by daegaer. For the prompt “Omi becoming Kritiker’s guinea pig for making a werewolf(ish) creature.”

[ellportrpg]

ABOUT

Name: Rowena Crane Age: 51 Gender: Cis female Pronouns: she/her Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Real estate agent Martial Status: Married to Maria Crane Species: Vampire ( cured )  FC: Lucy Liu Availability: Open

BIOGRAPHY

Rowena’s life has always been rife with conflict. Born to heal a broken marriage, her early years she was a witness to many fights and squabbles. Most of her adolescence was spent crying in the corner unnoticed until she raised her voice into wails. She was the source of tutting and headaches and her parents’ belief that she would heal things between them was quickly disregarded. She was just another thing to worry about. 

Fortunately, her family had plenty of money so even after her parents separated a nanny was hired to take care of her. She was looked after by many different caretakers over the course of her childhood. Living with her mother she moved all over the world. Her mother was indecisive and flighty, chasing dreams and romances whenever they took her. It was a turbulent life and Rowena was often forgotten or intentionally ignored by her careless mother. 

When she was fifteen she ran away from home. She was living in Rome at the time and tot his day she does not know if her mother ever sent anyone out looking for her. She never returned and was never stopped on the street to ask if she was the missing teen. She had stolen about five thousand dollars from her mother and she stayed in hospices in Italy. Each day was an adventure and she found herself making friends with the other rogue teens of the city. 

There was one in particular, Henri, that drew her attention. He looked about twenty and his eyes contained a spark of rebellion. Yet even with his physical youth, he was wise beyond his years and his knowledge of Rome and it’s history fascinated Rowena. She joined his group of friends, all teenagers, all homeless, and all operating only at night. They were nocturnal, sleeping during the day and partying at night. After a few months with them, he convinced her to help them pickpocket and run scams. She didn’t know how to say no to him and she felt a rush each time they successfully lifted a wallet.  

When she turned nineteen he told her that he was from a long line of vampires, and due to his birthright as a born vampire, he was blessed with extended life. And while he could not promise her immortality or prolonged youth he could bite her and offer gifts of superior strength and speed. Rowena did not want those blessings, but more than anything she wanted to fit in. She wanted to feel like she had a family and the way he looked at her made her think she needed to be a vampire-like him to truly belong in his life. 

She agreed and he turned her. For the next five years, she continued her routine as a petty thief. But a new criminal layer was added to her lifestyle as she began to attack humans and drink their blood. But she finally felt as if she was a part of something, and while her other friend came and went Henri stayed the leader of their crew, welcoming new members constantly but never losing his focus on Rowena. 

It wasn’t until she was twenty-five that he lost interest. By that point, she had physically aged past him and a new young woman had joined. Henri spurned all of Rowena’s demands for attention and she grew fed up with being left behind. When she confronted him he told her plain and simple: she wasn’t wanted anymore. 

The next two decades of Rowena’s life were a blur. Red wine and red blood dribbling down her chin she stumbled through the streets of Rome and got into a fair share of trouble. And when it became too much to face she left and lived in Paris, still partying and still drinking. She moved from city to city falling in with crowds of people she loved and who left her behind in her moments of need. 

Six years ago she sobered up and moved to America. She tried out many different jobs and moved to plenty of cities. Her parents had passed and soon she reclaimed her legal identity and her fortune. After a particularly upsetting experience with an inept real estate agent she said she could do better and as a prideful woman she followed through on that statement. She took and passed the exam and decided that although she didn’t need the money she wanted something to do with her time. 

She moved to a small town in Oregon and got a job assisting at a real estate company. But her aversion to sunlight, which had never been a problem during her partying days, was preventing her from coming to the office. At the threat of being fired she told her boss that she had a terrible reaction. Surprisingly, her boss believed her and she continued to work at the company. Her boss, a woman named Maria, captivated Rowena in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Every time Maria walked in the door and smiled at her Rowena felt alive again and like she was where she belonged. 

Their relationship went from professional to personal. When Maria proposed to Rowena, Rowena broke down crying. She knew what it was like to get an offer and feel hesitant but too scared to refuse. That was not what this was. She was overjoyed at the possibility of marrying the woman who had shown her so much kindness and understanding. Shortly after they were married Rowena knew it was time to tell the truth about her vampirism and the truth was surprisingly well received by Maria, who even helped her find Rowena a food source. 

But Rowena hated that part of herself and the reminder of her past. She was ashamed of her life before Ellport and she no longer wanted the burden of her hunger. Together they approached the witches in town asking about a cure. Katherine Hennison offered to help. It took days but Rowena was successfully drained of her vamprirism. She thought she might not have survived it if she didn’t have Maria there by her side at all times. Now that she is a human again she is free to live a normal and happy life with her partner, best friend, and love of her life.

PERSONALITY

+ captivating, social, charismatic

-  reserved, dependent, guarded

CONNECTIONS

Maria Crane - wife.  Allison Crane  - sister in law.  David Crane - brother in law. Katherine Hennison - family friend.