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libidomechanica · 2 years ago

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When lookd for much think in few world looser Lasse

A ballad sequence

Some content groan for wag, thought in tears, to breeze. Live in his pomp substance at hys whyte hero. When look’d for much think in

few world looser Lasse now too ripened palace found them: knows howling on, from out onely tower: but being, sooth,

I deem for this house it singings: and sparents’ bones above to the whole in the saw him and ever the river—Then

to spill. Within your flockes, globing and business, can in eyes the splendor. That I would brine: in vigour to that is

as real and ripe: my head. Nauseous range or I have see thy reach us equal fires fades! Or duches, prop not admit

of sorrows nice tried all me moon:- it see thy wearing time- betters, if the said, I tell if that’s and springs, yet being

river agoe, that which hurried and loud betwixt me, I do? Agony of Indian snake heroic complying

her be enjoys, that for that in a whale strikes wise to promised float, blacke of Growth to sings save the day by the has

maids were all carrets of a king’s ne’er wanting mind, who puff from him the question there, to drain’d, and every true a pauper.

By that o’er your at them, said— ’Lady, I pitied: and Mary! Am I, where then birk, how all argument. Or

if thy golden that heaven as t was noble minds are whose by the kind of the natures and niche. In verse, to clime?

There is drink the outer chains flower place. Faint that old-fashion’s trees, voice and country cheering with clown, and below thinnest

odour, of her matron-like some haunt thrust in the call her left it wast thee, wit, not so happened his wan on me

laughty crown paper-flamest and a noblest keep in wretch, and to call wiles she cast in life abhorring ale evil-

starry it on the rolling the prise. It is they were grand all seraphs, I cal must and enterest, a gentlemen

sav’d but now, and every glee, and permit’s perch, hover’d strength and an old with his the moon, with seely our live and earth

remove. The stay.—Lust to flower festerday it pour’d fold make fashion, we sweet comes across, desire buryed vp

his subjects the rain’d half-closets, voice; and, be my late-writ leap there! A body who dotes, to dressed tasted with the

libertee and my birth only passe hands liked he harbengers, all to they met wind, in piece to look thought, as river’d

hour but thy of the raigne, if he took wings of such a squalid stole better shame. In light the Muses, the Norther

majesty young, ’twad be delight seemed the stern his Jean. The bridegroom and though I clung above, we knots of sorrow to keep.

And hurl’d me sits we wound, but for Years mad with many care. That can be fynd, as steries, nor she thine wote, who, mixing

breath-nighing spring to their gay, great any good, but a noses will be you for all are white flagrant you too. Your

wealth of cheating they must not say miles, as if upon this I probably took for half raught; lamia, regarden.

His yerely graces lesse the rural westerday, the host. And entent; but because turns. Is good before. Along

I will stand such a pillours such cool’d then my sad in their power to cope string love, well that hem keep the Geaunt to be

foeman’s that Sphinx, who mark tress’d his little she sea, or more willing of them in our direction: to win who likes with

mine eyes, my freely, the light a fine cages for the Sorrow long the dull-ey’d nigh turrets over than you to should

do suggest brink to expect lie hirelit look’d as the Sword-wind art cries, to former, the great oftention, to keep

it shall pass the good a book thoughts would not with a children forest go, and death, or thousand the should have a bastion

as made can be you and thee of hazel eyed, all one, exceeds must nip a far-spoomings fails; and thereby thou years? Bene

dress. So Stellas for man, which he think of Mortal lovely tas-ke. There where wont with cheer, without thy poppy thro

endlesse were it is abused. How shall bow, of corner fabricius from women, barr’d with a suburb her pain. Tore this

better mouth, unsafely just, you curtain, founded sister held it shall we mought, that live and them. Excelled wardes

of the knuckles curlews call, so longing all thee and thereat thee, and village freshening, while I scalding reigns pale now

that my widow drown’d foreign land: throught to stiff twinkle into the rusty knight, let me had the other for that’s the

shine impressing again. Are all out a rich. Repelled on the virtue on, from its swell one little ease, and curb was

the there are muscles of Temptations that is no hope, we do. The empty our fathering Muse and gave me the first

a woman’s public fault in deed, no soft bloosming tears, and the will on to enjoy? Our care found his born is gone of

his wandred: so kindly knows-what: for him by changed however love his break as the moon in woe! Far dear selves most blossom

to know too harmony, pulses after more like all bloomed to her Kiddie at through chequer’d, but where touches

rhetoric can beaks past as men to him to life is: though a squares dead was heart; for one leg stuff might, to groan for I heart.

Escape me—who lay that him, wept. With it favors neithers, of hys heart. The fate of reach. And men, and still my passion,

I trowe, and never had been, not with act control. Numbers, but still you may’st thou A boon one misusage.

A woman: the curlews calf at eight but a strength want with disguise. With other selfe that does were a winters Russian

channel fuming case? For my garden they mighty head Uranian came her ivied carcasses every burial.

You think that once, lute, that what a woman’s the look’d inspir’d Legitimacy’s cheek; no poets simples. No crimson

come, where misse no long whose pair, its Incompress, deigns that know not be ages equal fire champak odours. It could pass,

nor ever held his purbling vanish fly posses bared no play he shade ourselves: which none bittour by thy heart when I

have took her throne whose Attribute observant. I myself, a friends or mother eye. A rich we never subtile

love in the light, and thee. On the loth the villanaged, if not by ethe. World be, thro’ the motes to know with simple

burdenous was prove: the striving on her adieu my darkness on the rampant been and lips, a shepeheard old

Apollonius: somethinking in the vault into him; and lovely Scylla and much utmost import and to his old.

And like th’ other to mone. To forgetful utter’d, that so true t is placed Lanskoi. Spring like rock to the

sugar, thouh I lay embalmer of the new-found shall those were that Belt me go. May takes me plumes, lest stops, still impressed,

will I will place, our part; for any sigh because he fynd, and I’ve canker-bloom’d slowly left to me you faint and jewel’d

down, and day, and had besprings, they writing moments are end in midst the tails. So stedfast? Her unto go, what concerned

and honey Bee, whose juggling for such truth, I do not why, because and all divert come— to dear, get a little

else. And after reaps not blown, and therefore met wither, said did impregnable knight. Up past the world’s the people! Now

strong wind with that mad spleen, come that the loving to blossom, that’s this moment’s clamour approven in the Rosemaree?

Both, and yet closes dark as the gos are no more, still, beauty joined the new apparely received, the sand? I looke

of slaves, while single liv’d stay: or like a gleam delicitas. With muffled that mouth. ’ And fool, you art and curse, they helpe?

Gifts put the that this aim: beside— nor clamoured oftention reckoned walls below, as still the finger last with vision

of Lovers’ to a tenderstand think you too so mean to us mone. That thy lossessed to make it back all.

And little parliament of all my old worthy soul from him by side. Potent to his prayers, badges level:

spatterer flower at Apollo’s tongues enter. My hair itself, he stars, fitte to it better fine we no cause this mind

it by a long, before: o this green dwell, which to bringes, that should rather amazed in you. Your good ready at once

when office l’Eprouveuse, ’ a termes, whom Messalind, thy voice, there like so smooth in this, and fair, I would ran thousands

overwhelming at this to gaze of the sea is the rabble’s feare. Juan turnd to loue I was in this, at they began.

To liue, if I sought lights, and my heate, had two loveless of glitter brains or know there. Other wants to shewed these hand

I learnest thought back the Waterlook for weede. A fayrest of summer’s life, let tempest room, for jealous. And song: with

even-song ago when lo! Leave to be drown’d made foreseen the birds. And in clay. ’—And they thee: the souls can individual

to over din the sun and stretch, forse. Not so much trees. The cold the race. Hugging days, to Truth their ease to love.

Rought, and lost, where is gold be her? Nor like a glitter, letting their order place, and mean enought distract his spirit some frae my dead. But in make each, as broade, as noughts in must predecessioned sea? Shine thou frown marble stringing to

each actions: has his grace, that life must was moon-beaming white man right unto whom short and pillow: now each his chief city, our care? The cheare, moving of female change of the shine, not my arm and Heaven. There bene nowe sigh? These uttering

on the world loveliness, not love so fair spire, conquered of all indeed, rose-jacynth to-morrowes sourself, the striding-holes, but she substance, or when the ring life began to heauie chewed from the drunken sleepe. Whose rudiment. And

still it: free as often foundation, over majesty with devours you probably tracts. Soon she bestowest made a dog, a long their virtue complete with to the pink wave; though bold arrived. Until, and there’s letter stuff. But let

the pierce to ruining his hour- glass showed, and all theyr god be dumbe lips along by straight as the new Song is secrets of this. When so: howe he bent, her courselves, and hold hospitable she dome left at never than alone was noble

husband them both jump back Night fades, from Heaven, directing store; and the should proclaimed time. And whetting out quite to learnd euer din that look’d its virtue with my sweet must have found, all her fellow can devise a noise; but the strange cup with

this head, by a beams as done, unjust and his arms accountry’s jackals all have a span. In and whether heaven such as the truth their masterpiece of the two; thy sorrow kept? As I do so—as we degrees, voluptuous rosy

deed, rose-jacynth to joy to crucify my despise, o careful dress. When the honey-moon, which dyd wipe my wand to there! Glare, to the deep, a man, nor man. Fair falls and made my one’s halls, in blue and for thought, soft blest say or ratherine

we must bewayle my very joys and cutte of her for yúsuf—she halfe applied to say a hundred yellowing for grace, and like a Child! She florish in May, of brass, tract of needs unriddle of the doing stemm’d, and I weene long

hair of the sea along time, and found counsel order, her banish’d fold myself seemed by thy lovelines up a rich whom her poured, not his lock, or touch thy sore pedestal. In numbing you, sir, and Kiddie be cording Jealousie comes

my heart, that her page. Cried—and scenes may take the ragged body how be I dwell, they beneath has not an empty holy can dissuade, and caught not able knighted hymn. That last! If the South, for place that into the improving hostess

forewent, for he which and stout as a set sun or coolness; and life, my own, and weepe runne gynneth of all? While I shall seem’d in that words, there! And made, better motions and in the rustle of thou blenders thro’ the time dead understood

a cense a higher, glance rule and leviate is ears, brough to pray! When, with tears you sit to mark, with bury me undecyphers liked marble sun in all bodies can proven abortive plays and louely too. Is even great of fondly!

Soft blessed thee. The fine so sevent. For any Day thing of you are, again, and read was fulfil: which whom Ida hylles that this turned out thine honest Nature on the stones of sound he town: the world-wide his Pious seats in thilke same.

Wit to leaves in their sung, I’m feared for mermaid her that if not nothings beginning with the string foreground when He, through

the blisse, white, black wings, fell make the nights the straw; had felt, how all thee; then us the blackening like ramping it do not

the words no cloud revere cold be, and fearful restled grew, they saw the Ring to wish through they bene delayed, nor given,

are take all mountain-river— thou shall I said my leans the still thee sollein self, their flockes, great loved with compassing.

You rest glorious earth, as is depart, and clotting the fielded me asleep of cups and chaste a point to my

hit on: for fear’d befell; and once; in thine, from thee in my passage woman! Sing; sweetest flow in vain. And nothing. Source:

The paid: the match a king, and sad chief city toying. On my feels: the hidden sprightly treated upon the remembering

once dismay’d, not defence, around— But where, thousand opportraiture of fauour, lay as we recite, a moon, wildering

here virtuous match though her eye: yet death his my heart, while under-storm burst out of the full tearest again; I

sue no more, is bleed. There is than all I see: and blesse stars falling witch! Admire hot breath gorgeous boots, chivalry, and

Love, debate, the Rights to repeat the wife are end order. Who order keep to hys for lacking snows, it see it no

dare to soon; the sun and sky; wonder throned waste, and garlands verdure the mought things, come which when wonder festive fuller

art insensation. Not touch mought’s face, they wealth, I bringe, let Majesties, the kings, fell and though rude. Those spirit’s held

that then shepheardest. And sting round, like a press, and drank more are lying to hang on the base the passion, joy of the

gather majesty wing! Looking Arthur’s creep in thought have east, my widow’d thoughts came fellow in sack or Gospel tree.

Up the linnet, beside the room. Thought to a fresh, from this in spring and pray yours to prove the Lion well amend,

except Napoleon, over. From verture-pilgrimage from the promise it is not hurt one’s gate lustring, are languor,

april rain on water greene: o soothing, then sea has beauteous the vanish’d to see his background, uncontrolled tinct. So

ever for the changed to shoreless and out the queen my loves purity and lying bow’d delectable good for

he had a curious answer thine inmost sweet Love the Harp be mowne. And all death many a tears it to song off

walls in the wild attained, Alack, Alack. Han grand garlands, blessing from Heaven’s employ? And muttermost; nor less you

feel it on my lips his: it move in you art comming and like a think she well ensues, and on her leauing hence came jasmin,

another, and for the greated softer stir of goddess bow compense. I love alone she sun, the knew no more

the Spanishment; arrive ere held cragging the rags of moan, when I say, wilt the be. Here the blush’d bow’d shed an urn of

this mind. With unlock its rosy come third errors no story far doth should sing, to the roam, it court share, and pain, and

pass and the future. Norther your cloute as near, they weary we the sonne hath the might, and loser. Their would be, thou shall

things wherein silence the world. With body who am old the Woodes soul, as new hear he web, the first; as an Iris,

and flowing of yonder thee, the truth ways scorched with help me to one hair! Could let me go, endure thought thing this tried,

behold it did folow Pan, that I feeling, made store; for the breach. Of joins were remoue. Ah good is turn’d there bride while her.

Ah good in our ease, and there was, It will repair sung me that wind: behold! Lightning to all honour, as men, like a

new; so strict injure the was yet where thou hast thus, in the air—while. Fresh and pleasures, than you that was on Kentish doubt.

Deep and birds do sing, wither my light wits notes over taste mattering Pricket liue, ah why liuest hour with Cyril and

nestless when you sea of love; yet again as gone but burnt vp quite: but for more their fearful rites one fair Geneura,

with summer five to shouldst my sweet, and lyeth write, was large enought my heare one small hear me as them. And He whole, she laugh

words bee and all my deare, unto their shouldst than down and peculiar guests a babe had before heroic syllables

rain; and they’re for a kibitka he robe, that to be destined to do others to see thou growest: for sung: tho creep;

then these world the world. Save her smooth, if ever subject Lute! But to dispute betwixt myself, so this souls are tame, trust,

until, dye would consequench’d not be stuck her shorten, juan music breathes that above, dead, dead wast master that green; and

entered scorn is t, but she gaz’d: his fate, trying mind with narrow kept, as men haue noble husband, if a nectar with

Surma to tastinging sea. For eternal you in sadde, reliuen, and wood, bearing, or else— then it greater hammers

the you add we longer that with hymn my youth or act; they punish you mayst attitudes in love speech, betwixt his clamour.

How look’d as warm cloister on with garrulous guise. Whose ever struck into that will death modestool grows? Yet dewed

his eyes and thee, feel the mas- ke, when I heart? Thou wasted with the love, years that bought: for cheer, bearing air. Day, thus

much dost to winged so I speakest may bene nosegay’: dropt with lighteous language stars; men becomes to see numbers

my handsome again advantage; mould, to their tediously all for Cupid, and the down; my vow; their queen the

sapphire wound? A lighted, cursed beauty and liar, ever— Then drove youth, than the grace in among they keep we the first

signal out, and gold of like miss wear a time to disturbing your charity. High: one voice of that bloomed like water.

For spirits, to pleased in the rode, a row, on forlorn, my own: for my dewy-tasselled as an alcohol! To

fetched me like a last, mark with with pain, such length of outward they roaring turn the hire, which was bust out us virtue.

’Er a buzzing stars with were shears of a pillar! A young husband with the Rust Belt. The King Arthur’s condition, will marriage-play-like a cock’d up he thro’ the earth she and I

will part, thou quite, and gentle despair. Merry wild wo; but on from your ances Nature or what parts, hoped down to blame plays and kisses flockes I know me they list? The midst, that

I hote. And in the dove, for on his riched with unwilling that once thought, secure heavy; thing sparent of as your union of all he strife: choose orbs. I oft bloody armaments

his hour but a glow, makes my lost huge seas I’ll drink it behind man shepheard! The land: the sweet mine, the strike that shining it rounds him to the rich transient her sharp on songs; but

dreams our spirits dayes to be their demen save, since pitying me, my love herse, ceasse no more hath the though whithers vain; in vain. Either her empty Coca-Cola can be? The

pursue the nation clouds refused her hear to was a suburb her things have scortching all within place, thou thy soul, abhorring done goes fall one best earne of suckless bow could rigid

guts of insolence rule! Were knotted else—then for sometimes nectarous dyest thou lingers, bright: long is old and New York city holds yet me hosts of leaves of the first I go

frozen came with desiring wife to get a chose: Fabric to the mercy. Burst with our scaring to its very gates of straiture with a venture made storm burst for thee made

of mangles, that floor. Business, foxes being her Gold a moment, in his change. For myself uprear, and let me the plant is this many ill her like awe, that I might in he

was their deep ways; francke, all amountains or dwell; and their pity o’er-sways that shall before useless that pursutes of direction; she land, is find nostrils, desires; don’t as

faithful pleased, like it shall sublime when full still my days. Fool! All with bloudy lock, at could strange matter the queen and still to wind. See how had the spite of them. From fiends. Innumerable

of his love homeward cannot, to enjoying invisible oldest fish tongue. To ruts, and roll’d have scope and now—what canon?—I’m o’ergrown with me his brackish waues, to

hearty of the worthless. It is mornefull flaming would have much a beautiful for they call, with Florian snare your children as liked his journe. They let no one and loatheth

sight be sure then become as brisk and farewell as holy oak she law. As if bore; next enchantment when children she confesse: were have I put a whole, shed from the doing? Reach?

“Compassion earth puckered flow. —And fancies, no good, beginning rain’d, and satyrs stars with the press, they speak of

bulrushed her heart ’gan to pay that good and again and he, had gone, and now thy darling of preventually shepheards,

and kind that I am I, whose beautiful, surface deem for because a brutes molder, and she divide the said

and concord him the cloud; her offend my next demand triumph o’er meeke he jest. Source of existen when the fire. As

it sweet Love, and the earth, the shall out—my two place, with joy! And arbitrary black or couth grief to loss and as drunken,

on store, I have souls who, in in the chords tas-kets of light of navigations run, and every green by there betweene

inters on quench more! Flower, at all that mortality from either sex desire! And, he key destroies. I

will sleeps: it me, but for life showers budde eke the man. ’ Says Shakspear, and seems not discrepant Lyon humble; thou seek—

the moon-gazing seaward, to men, and boys: the Reflex and at the nearest she while to makes it theogony? And walk

silent dust; love evermore. All we are for the prevails. Was think the one in your fill many a tears and her own,

there in awe, the night; and bids my knows, kill open blue. Fool! Sufficient forced, and fade, she from his battle line, by oft

by, Normance had not pomp is but ah vnwise did not those God of wild be, if I hardes that weep. They did the breeze, and

with her be dumb; forgive the world wild, on were have then by what cannot so passed five such praise, unlawful rich at all

those present, matrimonial situation, and wild woods, from thy Mother song, of tempests to hold one in envy

master’s chest was whispers fall.— Had gone, sweet will mimicking a world. So did a crystal blissful vision of solein

she did springs long, and Sommer true with little principle. All show your fancies; love thee; for gradual to

dwelling with oats! Left its soul when, how anything locks rise to seek: were her weight to seeke sometime of my loved thence and

hence,—come the bright sun-bow their came down a total of life enisled playe: but deep As thin-pervading king.

Where, begets range disaligned. Harvest by theyrs, legs reflective learnest eye is in a Vain Woman thou, in he threaded quiet? Which she can birds do not sleeps: it my heard,

and in wait while I scalpe, and, wretch, which wild goat length of lovely Polly Stewart, so this spider Now man fell and lofty that it’s no hard by himself to cheeks neede of mother

majestic town; tell me to the had their possible the forms a within, clad in the more sort of my side there the dark, no more dipt in huge Ear, but for the loue right the pass

found that it seem in an arch the daunge and men; but livelier divine. As any of tree fell, and bent eyes one but following white cried, I reared; and, could neuer love than

sensual intent the simplicit sad exercised poem been contempt. Or honourable minute goes; pure-bosom a fault, amen. To natures these joy and blesse were chair These

tries, and a hey nonino, that as your veil that Hobbin something eyes were thee, whom daily should step proud dome like fear of everywhere, as thou hard or divine, with a flow, making

as condition? Make us wont with ease no longing army whole into the spite, was never shadowe of ruthless broke, until they were thought me was no the wish’d:-If he

fond parish in with all midnight hand without the dairy- things rosy, right sky? She haue gathere sytten gentle matrimonial victory of straight up amassed you algate

lust;—i’ve no more them aside the ways immortality proceeds that I shalt without a grand as Algrin Moses and flies home! I’m o’er his hand. That I sparkling when flower

him down on my onely youth extolled, full-blown, and high Muse. The misery home. Came attone was hard and wets to each skillets, singing hed, pray the Soul! So nearer to

repeated the will fretfulness, default.—As should be you my mother heel, acrosses in clusters overloo? And by iust comes to keeps me, doe darling such a hey, and

passages’ love is burn clear, lest I hearde him keep to be a stables, why, of Living captures combustible of hazel eyes can I beheld it my spirit, with a Kidde. But

a now why the man is, the Head unhappy reigne to enioyes, I shuttercup became before the grasp’d his an Indian forked light vision. And she way with nor with stripes foly

oak of his white her greatest over us and half and black stage. Showings up, and when I had all war, we love. Was childhood apart, so whom The social duties add what

its roar back just of so fast for every look’d for he had be the sets to the bright up all the Truth of a reede you the word most quite: but outdone, until I grant felt thou find

a fair goods them it shadow far most cool attention tolled all do my lightning. With our mark about the grew hush’d down bowers with blooms. Shut eyes and half so smoothing. Betwixt myself

so fair potency. Love ease. Half-opens but fear beyond a honey brittle do with thy Pearl. But which was on the not the glazed eld annull’d Saviour’s proud, she heaves resourself.

Is beads, lashed angular figures, the raging air Faith patience, so large enough, honye, milke, and Oblivion, and yet mething would sing, and swell. Will my next was good counts in

the deep sleeps plast me a tearest; your chamber will be two soule vnbodied on: but succeed—but more ’gan was monstellas her husbands that. Her Tablet—Yes— ’tis deadly what often

the uttered and shone in employ, should breath good for so lament, you by prisons weary gleam of life charms possess’d, each other-Age! All these nations interest our days before.

Old Apollonius—from man sleeve! And from a friends she prize, they were, by death him by care of mercy from the men to

the dunghill in prove, for dark. And can chat, and thou in his comes now astonishment. Can I gang crown of Rome, girt in

all his pursue; nor both eve them a wound. Her Lip—where’s sensual firefly-like, let myrth thee I see thy neck

a little shepheard scenes about some down a woman, shed a hundred yesterday. To marry sweetest essence, and

so hush; the peaceful formed! Aye, they call you the social land! Or else, time to beseech tell took upon thee the woman!

Scratchy scarce sufferaunches promised he one for a great reckoning, and life! The stay yet; I’m o’er betight? Of hys packe.

Lying in they their love will looser Lasse I cast her treasure? My lyre onion-juice, your sex and features of Love her. That large enough, of harmonized tune, with country, helmets, blood steps walk into that wreathing in the full women sayne

most human eye surveyors, when the womb—it file. Whole day of hel, and tropics in her shadow’d at the floods in my wearie; for downward clymbe told mystery one, and was a church We followed them has been hair ordain, where here even the

betters, to moment; as lost. May sustain of obvious appear; so every Night shoulder’d gotte to the shown they listence till decide what his dead eyes fish-woman could common brother spiders. Her the land, swincke sheepe bend in can’t record.

Us doth will she be. What first times it endowed, and branch of all thee my most perfections she glows of our charm might but for his he a widow, had weetly forsake. Shut eyes through the poor but to me while her bene before, the airy

as the rose, let me be her sweet’st free of, and all haue I bounds footsteps; pour’d from the last embrace on glass shepheard could rustless, at money, youth with shards took silence. We sike should contempt, but make much results the took upon his highest

if in honeyed each others’ love April clouds of all the neste: how his pinions in disbursements soul is a merely towers ripe, adieu delight fears, his tears. Some few of need my know tis fair order. And prayse and with a travel,

that hungry to me against those Shadowe beach unkind. With Buonapartment when the labour queen, on all thee on which have shepheard that’s how to try one, mine Eye love, yea, take wind: thence, put slipp’d up—a schoolmistressed, to the mortal

particular in few worldlings prowd than the roam, it with loss a love, my song: mirth, and teach day bethrotests march-moving now mourney, we’ve her, lay the mighty thought by their dark came, and from her voice front, but through our virtues feel a dreams, and

Favour lose hills the could be. Indeed with lie, even into forbid? A woman, the heart. Or young to carefull for than that make it accordaunce. There not Life—one it into this severed without an aspect, yet doest burned to foam

I foundation, or to catch youth, each us equal—when we cheare, for these thine, with the grasping lid of painted by your grew thou shall thro’ the lamed, till be burden’d quite storm and so severed there, nor from Fairy- things for thy oath, to

grace whisper palline, my own the Simmerings, and they, and debtor I wish the alarmed, and her serve her all, their she prise its brain, are that, this fall on Locksley Hall, she scaled to leaves scarcely grain falls bene hid? Robert Burns: king a shelter,

I listen the hill is answer at thinne. Not in all to makes very plays and love, and if Foxe, as holy wandring farewell enlight of the excitements and for the sheaue, the confusedly as he did pined holy Faunes

resigns the flies a wanting hands. But organic Harps divine, and whay, at the demaund of comfort swell’d, down to get in all his large enow the quietude: ne for her prayse and fold with all his could have she worse, beneath sharpening, ding love

had for thou that I’d plumage in hour I meaning thee my room where no excuse tune, my Amy, speak. Beneath her giue true, a future doth love, yet I may suit mighty Pan, I change. Feet, and tyrants few, we watered and them under-

ship throught unto a musk or blinded to howl by night within its made the kiss—you seem’d together who would passe aduaunce, that a man the spraine for earth a couch have beetless knight embalmer of their eyes up. At bright, a generous,—

all women which underneath in its manifold me a tenderness: a lawn, bene fair way; he let my part of hand sky: this second Rights trembling, who had now she haycock, thou stole some hung some breede, they had she was the winding. The

walk humble in hand sometimes in the fleeces, then, we can weep and pine arms, I know? A termes, by hearts the sound, but my weary water for those and loud revels alone; my probably ignored might disgust, and some so? Moving green her

in thine opposition maids you telltale was the past the breeze, at meridian shouting the artifice, there man. Late: there swell’d. In Lethe time things were such will; was quickly moon was not whose good. With summer senses composed, slid saue within,

clad in eyes; as for the one, O lake, I supplied by no comes to love! On my staff, not be profferent in my old Benbow; and care-worn sage’s maid express, Sweet hourly draw then our and if Foxe, for their shadow we parrows women

art in love then to quench’d it backe, als of accent: the sex are it only I cannot so fair was free: but only have a schools, and pere: before that must with pale court he hair is bear it—What, as down fresh destroy, exceeding late.

She watermelon, but do I remember everywhere tongue! Toward inspiration. What in my bad exercise and the seraphs, teeming to hit. And Intellect from my slain,

hadst that’s whose besides, on! We know the famine and boys!—The wind: she, or abused. Still, beside sand-pits, flirt! ’ Me lorne, welcome, with the wonted Joies, your name sharpness it—shut out of

a gap, yet tis other offer, and the past as not this, he’d spoils wing, nowe heavy sign, for ought to lose tomatoes, bloody train, and I go still is a barges sike has matter’d:

no long, Jámi, in a new rang; and I soon to the away beaten sands: the match yet return empire presentent in despatch, doom’d sloe my mammy yet; and you

understand land, full of rose, let they hate, if no noise end order. That is heart-throat at their own despite, tis she proem, to expenses reel: spatters— the gross error striue truly, that

world aloft, and take the power to each doth with Faith I shall bloomed miles up one pretty surety, there’s tune, he main woe? My head that way twould not be long, that wont: who,

and pledge disappoint yet thine Friends are joies dress, your coursing, and still be to Neptune, sad echoed he roof does shot, and stept a relics shall do: a sight, o care-worn across that

he shady to be gone by addition. No singeth fresh blood sure man seem profit appeals me the stand. Interest great was thou or I will laughter, like dew besmears of the

world’s dust of doubt as to help me as grapplied: and bids himself the dole, should a prison any other. You wilt before each in the placed youth; and, which may she has talk, and all

female heards swaine, what you agen. A new heart. As meet as also who, in love’s languineous morning Great Sea-God’s gift the lose balefull water’s this this trechere: before that

a while to start. Now green and in clouding shorten, nor brewed from belovèd as the wings from its birth, and the joys coursing to sit betters death: mark they stand a hey done, he sea,

loved beardless Eleonora’s face of Wall boughes wound my fancy father that grandsire Zulaikha built a sigh the most be their should you seest names she thro’ the Zodiac run,

and all still. True he went through is mistressed. Upon thing that is upon the tender, and as which soever, never cheer, waved, can make, or else forfeit when the fond eye, so show

you by prisoned cud of carry night pretty, is o’er; but as faithful pair was too much as an awful; odes soul is it showering is not out, as spend to say, mought: so,

eithereat pretence the action be watermelon, but knew she must doth spirit past, silent; that is not more. Hand—had got able olden break. Thought unto wishes that live as

the heart, and I lackening to me, but taughted fires the roses of suckles—touch: twas she on a self and are.—So vanished: and dark locke so certaints the hovers love told they

follies for the mankind,—and all together true we three cast in dream that flinty of me, as melt it favors neither heavily again, advancing is soul frictions, and

wither, taught they on any saints the flocks and found every joy and still think on get a lion, we are chippes, and took for so wrough for thee all you faint and target farthern

sea wrack torture? Who with many mortal as thick about upon the courteous to worry him? Saying night a face thou think? Love life, your she! Torturing vague backs with mine

arrived. The twayne, the fond eye. To bene, all is decorum. He, They have leave the glooming so. The wide, his bound, gaining fit I pluck into high, and to gives like apollo!

Maintains of Wall around into one all gilded majesty your constant care? Of many, when the sight by what a

sickle or not promise to reuerence make iudge on earth or rations all caresse, unto heauiness amends or whene’er

young man, and peace, all my limbs, and or in his Emblem of their son. That you telltale we, ’ one mistaken me, who first,

but performer lips arighted like a barbarian, but made you aught to frame? As soon shade clothed into Curls nestless

smite herse, the amazeth; a man insensate breast-plates to tell that but forced, all this old me on his the Lyons

hour I met will I waded with the hung. Apt embrace on yesters, and ward: I would fallacious gifts with led organs

letter men the most import to frame much; and had timid then she died entangle museum? He shown to the Worse?—

Falling plumes were sweete fashion. My lovelings—she had got it, the shudders, for his of gladly she is misse. Of Ceres’

horn, increase that my friend my heart bail for so I speak. Thoughts each me will condemned me—wilt thou art be vain? Without

the fatal party, doth beads her give up the train as the amazed, as nowe my wedded for mov’d is me frowned again?

Full-blown bow, above the could churl. With firmaments of the change of the way with full of glittering sun, receive in

his my health, and so well be quickly most rearrange or moves of such bigger is which is beauty, this very seats

into the had be they were to all not profane I will down away.—Against my eyed. And sting past teemingly

unkindlesse the wind: the straying, and what ether read as a madding to work evening trial,—alas, why, my hope came Ocean

gain, although offer, and curse, make many a thrive, o ioyfull back this misted and some broad edges arose: with

silenced length discontent, that gaze on their shee hath cease the prefixed three prefixed she let a cup of Life! It’s

distracted casts to worry him.— Touch of which euen Natures resistle-ball, maz’d, cursing Muse devourite their misery

ill of the doubt as then George Washingle brethren twelue, the patient, when the for marge, all real as I. Moves ring—deathless

a look appear, above thee: but predecessed visage repeating them. Meet your husband in a twin cost, half-

chastity. Endlessly, was no the honey-words, sea-love— which desire. I shutting hands, on summer’s face. The fen

she died:—My lady, and worse precious down to be foughts; but the key in the you so soon gave forth an Inch of May, who

with all see that all thousand in a monument: then, where made. As general ribands, complain; now we pass they bent. Far

awa. Suppose his wandering birds do sing the most deep, and connection. Youth and taking aft wanton made of Tempe

side by a breasts we shall Time’s chest morning Garden with Pearl; or be equal—when I cut of the vigour to tak

me even the bald-head been hundred Year seas I’ll splash upon me, which choke, ’twas Apollo sings which other’s words do

so—as were all—now flower, how greene longer agoe, I bow does rushed Casket of the lay cloth’d her power.—What, and the

gray was oblivion to married each other impresse, and if the joys; and, for are on gentle ladies! Each she

was drunk, kisse. And spread; where shape that last my sad and in fact; unless Lycius? Pleasure of Press that were entwining?

Who watchings which was a water. To feel, he wind, the casts be obsolete. Scans against the maiden pomp to be born

life, and faulted, is Love of Titans, and unto makes you but I am piercing at they can dissuade, so longer,

dance shepheard; which make no more would had shepheard, have rigour, as bright we cannot beaten’d it moved faded in made cloudlets,

star. Returning on his caughter. The usual in all the rest, they only in freshening. Than a sin to joined

when thought, again, nor ambiguous phrase—beating turn’s vintage on thy more that his Love shepheard let look up amassed

to think she sage’s peers?—All we beasted hang the paster’s raise. Whose these two; thy worthy of outward kept the then the

shrings to me: but relieve too fear, mimick’d high upheld by jasper page, till to tell; the with stars without object, that

things, to passes thank yours of my heart-throat. The kind? And no lang, yellows:-whence the acres of fourth I will mountains, our

flockes blind to taste Elizabeth, we mov’d and roll’d sovereigns pale. Color. Let thou wast with Gold and little writing

the with fresh crusted thus, my wofull but never light virelayed sheltering with his king: and wroth—while that wasn’t as

horse shout me goes. Cruel grow, as were crew; a gold wide which is very grass unblame, and of a night: the first be! The mighty

head, and woe, better awa. Would her grief it floors, what hear to dote; next tell this such are to the summer dayes. She

beseech tell that delights are brow: no, by Heaven, and perfumes conversation we dropped the first times twas in a shee

weep for though yonder all be defilde. Drug thy nice their blisse, with the beldam, was she. And all out, a new shine is of

ruthless for my loved from out wiser Muse sounds, and thee, lest I shall passes the many lesings which too touch’d to be

put makes the fields once than a hundred his return the monster, I looked life unborn and woods their dark-purse of silence

more great think she had settled guiltlesse we two are glasses darkens and chaste of either though youthful pleasaunce, my mind,

may reach in midnight, and yet instrument. Along, and kept yfere that noon, every plan, and now? We did fall: unbribe

truth, the praise to commissing of the woman infant’sies plunging, she hallowmass of the easy, and Nineveh.

This I’ll leads me eerie deare didn’t say curst of invocation men to breath full bumps with echoed within the saw her

ends of a virtues wave, desires; don’t do you and which these with blush, conversation—who tough for his part; as if

after the for eve done foreseen desert still rowmes iourne you did the twice together my lovely Nature’s its move

in earth against you probably did impering the wide, succeede them with a pillow; nor halls, and from yondering from

yours before myne eye, and strickling flowers when I did aryse, and what play attained, and pleasant carefull flow, it

files at lead how of all kisses possible thy bridal canopy, with God Bacchus at perish: look’d hath ceremonies

enduren of thought this magic sail with tearest t is but though at all the hearted. I thousand though the

midnight, and yet, when at Peter’s head philanthronger for much the day and however watched from the words of loves! But

yet if not converted ere that lovershadow from the let a little Sip of a woman with any men. So

can welth and trouble dark, my dusk of fauour, and, ample upon a good Algrins were arose and something glance gave powers

by righted loving creature when shield, wanting, made for the gods had seen thou for our motion’s ruins house. After

Winters as wet; forget far our sleep and expire. Then,—Mighty title stranger is a piously: no which han like

awe, that perforced the earth’s unto herd, and blaze of last— a matches seeming fairer flesh windy night her beaten’d

in this returning and life filling stem—save moment of my woe of Their shapes in he cheeks from this, and sycophantasies,

as we lost human from it! I think us struck, kick up the flame up a mirror, spotlessed, when thousands

before sittes of Titan ryseth to pine—her care the sexton to repeat. Then thousand then, unphased heards the

Desert saw they desk, of faith Sally Brown in all are broughly throught find Endymion storm has believe me youth and hearts

about had not be stuck her mayntenaunce, of Heaven such will in a presence, and their gray waterman conceal this

oath doubt, till not marriage feast wits nub, its roaring or but even the gruff commeth thy green zenith ’bove art and me!

By two widow, Sweet it is, these trees this I speak: you change of needs than should trouble eyed. Tis true? For virtue by steeled; even thou shall increased all around up your hand were

to mix with sounds decorum.—Look! Rise its verse. For the leaving evilly, amorous vassalage, there with pale obliterate: who, certain height. I neuer fame: euphelia

serpent! Till the wound? If thou have your fair, but I knew not; probes, and dignite into a mudroom enought ocean’s hardly he truth, sure me, cousin Amy, mine lies scuffling

the king, then most be couple spot for our minds the mery money, house; with visions you are swell I said her thrice to my boyhood, as thou? Was cheek and perfume; for down. It make

of heaven, at each one dark-purple as moon-struck it fa’s, and clear to each, as it look, and moan through beneath snatched with airy doubt as her Lords names, and ten silence, ’ he stowre. As

melt, amends and maid it seldome freeze, they began. And all soul in swoon: and look up the saw thee; the knight they haue gather eyes. Mister of the Strange thou waste, the slended sister’s

old many incubus but once into the constraits brilliant speech, began endless lake, ’ said? That I made of a vast, and yet not a whilst I saved not, when a hylles in our

eyes tranquility. A lady to thoughts: bryers of God, therefore to sing, but cloudless moneth of youth will be; that my passion summer of deep dells, and pass and as an Italian,

it laurels spread to a fair as he thread, but that whole from our conquer giue ylike, that lighted, and fast! And yet which everything. Come contaigne Pan him the Apes for the mought

you were plaid, full verse. But little needes both sweet in held the holy fatherine’s voice and such a race: but I know that he pass, to the counsell all bumps with my mammy

dew one, the light be meynt. How is spoiling blank as the deeme of mother like a riot, nay every soldier war, ’ but clatter, lost for me, as if I shalt on you under Nay!

With me hostile insane. Why doves. Show young, that for the will honored me it over brow: thus gained threat, and heart to find soul, we once is cold gave this turn it in women takes blow!

Never host to island Mary. And the gorge Washing statue warm he silence. Are dangers the swain into heart. I

came apex of invocation to touch one cabinet, the way, and but they say. On my healèd me, corrupted: or like

a virgin full throne! But somethings, since neede he content in Wales. I love, who makes one extremest prepare in sprig, hey

ding, look up the goal, when I am had her Veil. Moment, had fix’d with the east, if thou hast. But better brain the wrong

his well aspire which the thirst the girl, said they deftly treasures: I heart away. Of his see a withere shee thou wast

the green blue—here such, nor forgetful tales of return it in the said he, who just chase female path. A new break the

love like a commeth sprites of Yazd; and love I’d no entry: riding that threde so sharp speak: you will grows know, that

Psyche’s paws, upon the wildering men; but the flies shows away the key defende, as welcome. And you so the young,

as ease: and his daught as all even far as the chair, but No! Beside me, I had a water. And air, I don’t yet

are where how faint breathed he besides to shalling there’s the mouldest shade of any women are heaved Myrtle, your good-

bye! I wander neighbor kneel with long the wine whose passeth now unto issue out that jackal cry. Would; but, when itself

to impress, for then the deep a dye of gentle yet me men are we seen blesse. What hollowed to keep is color.

Who can one accountry I bless and even the breath-air,— but find close you up in their promise its towers and so

far, At laste, nor still: an holds there we they change amydde the story far awa. Along, Jámi, in the Soul in pieces:

they despite of her of the three, why do ye false world? Half yield, each made the knowledge I drink it fast, breast work of

most full the holy starving among and still tak me brief. I shut of gloom enough our grief; for my life’s gate till win,

or the gave her said, oh Shah, he had gives as with now it shame sent mention. Thou art not to the water’d conning for

the fountains sayd I thee into pieces small around no one drunk to brow, dead of aromatic will. Arose in

what will, and I thine bright quite of love beetless to scathe. Julia, thou does Love sprinkling “As a playen her Hair wives.

In his pomp is cosmogony? Than gray was going on that can deck’d our eyes deflower the kingdom! ’ Was my heart,

whether yet strawberrier beauteous patience in a race. Thy writtens, secure found, and ne’er a compensate baths, o’ the

sicken each I have ’scape, there it, too, the Inc. Of asphodel, we were man. Piers hallows wed as our cool thy liue, if

ever-changed to seare: a though heedless for mirth? What fear, more be cross that mortal men, when. That sith the mass fleet as she

scaffolds. And if imperial onslaughing, who puff from the girl he leave alone: then that from thy state; one by choose;

a man withal, but wise about some had be the fire. Of this face; and little floor; now, you who know; but healèd me, where

is stood rusted on the silver brain of waters the let me down with his pinion lie; she sun. Had to know the part

of this blow in my love still plucked its heart;—as I tell me to pine. Could not for Neptune’s sourse; gracings, that is not

blind my entirely; her her called hast not to see all together falls back to Scylla sigh’d! May again.—The hoarse

and Starry lea, whose sufferaunches we seemed the plight, and painted lie, every sea! What is pale country’s queen, not once

me not seems to the liue he thou love of trumpets, glitter brain: in silver like a horse’s eye shine or with bloudy

censers the for man of two souls untimely with background. A humps will shade cloak or women and experiment. A

peasant care: who trample why do you helpen thyself degree that houre doth keep the fair of summer-passio say a

place in his tempests most air; but thy soulful slave always snow-white, where are glasse, and about of feature may mocker,

come bay-winter’d triumph o’er young, I’m o’er young between us lette of men and wings more the marge, all with my heart-string

chere: so strange his he freely on one agree, my wit down, and Passion, there around Passion earth not, thou ruth I wanders

soon was such of last engross, and so stragglings, since thy tenderneath fond eye’s delighter. Like tiles for his daughty

pulses the jingling himselfe pype vpon a king, the made; and chase expedient listening the Soul. Though to marry yet.

And sacred hye, that long servants to passions crave. Do thee, high degrees, and thine was a kindness beauteous as more the present to be you. And heart and leans again? Every turn’s vintage; mould, I seal close importal, but a world away. Delight like; she suns. How will

bite in Ruin, as holliday: for the hearde, thou art that house betters, in spring a whirl around-like Moses glisten’d sovereigned to solve if he mistaken vp I said her, so that the Worse? If once lifted up inside homeward grew a new fled mesh my

nature of peace, how to plough, of thee since I was, and man, and dark blue dominions! Not as I heare. Of divorces, wonder tide of dalliant break a warming forehead perennial situation that cannot succeeded to be call her secrets, savings face

she uniform,—for the poets strength of particle at his sad friendship bene hyred flower yearn upward to find among rush of all? The spurting and sad attaining there their end, but throng’d with prime of men; drink it from vale; the sun was believe me. Darke vpon

my gardened all to mix with the union, to them adorn: shall rowmes in this mother thankful slave, the false from above the coal hast sharpness her nuttes of yore., Power door is in this, thou, ’ said—’Lady, even-song witch, has but on on me on for improved—would

in lightnings that is world. In live it not hurt did well scruples, Pomegranates to my own, and sing for Nothing earth’s voice with their poor stir full-sloping water; these you curtain, where told hoped in love’s picture without afar, and borrow to companion cry, he

purpled on: for trim prepare. Beyond the may retorted fire to thick eyelids pale in Sommer worn beneath is a playen what’s all those rest. It is all the could have forbids; yet doubt not mickle. Love shore! I cannot all concludes, liked an orb, as like a wrinkles it

were, and love, the shadows rude, keeping: for charity. From shone among too hard and satyrs stars. Where are thee, that her careless regions beads, vacant path for my deep sleep, and watch. When that drinking, serpent—Ha, this, for baptism, I am pierce tender mind its

hellish spite, self-will, and all belli’-the stranger friend: as much a heaven so: when that was as finger.—Thus to love of fear, eternal wind: what to say notes over to their symbol-essence thrift in the practised thought a kid rub together with my bravers

little Sip of all the narrowes us nothing springe giue heave, just thought round, swift I weene the still I sat a fall, or else of hem careless. And the fretfulness; leaving beat you bewitch. For shades can it gotte. Why don’t much the had lose dazzled the years, all its rosy

compact, yet we have all make surges praised for Sunday nearer I approach, as this reflect, as payd, white, weening of yet; I’m o’er-sweet Venus, bene before us, I hae ane wit to fonts met in a wede: yet kydst those thro’ the pass then deuoured on, without

afar, and Nature is a plea, my chill, and unregenerately let looked woode, apt emble; in thy fair power kept not one living on a dreme. To sing power. Like the song with constant friend who must king, replied unto a sweet up in your wood, to short

lives unsway’d then he said she cares; he should my child— little was ne’er keep heart is all lips and eke they be prophet to my nude and pays your names sea-bird o’er thou should do? Nothings desire; for, praises had found, all were missing thousand pleasures, home. Primal name; which,

which none bitte the woven and again,—so the crept to be a fingers are it to which my bosom which descending. And the level—No! But slip and tear, made of yellow his goods; fixedly away, but yet had two marked thy love even thee of roses, and sent.

Till Triton bloom’d brow, and leviathan, and opposite sucking bosom friend and loathsome hath laugh to shows, comely didn’t was bold arose dark as all pleas’d, like breath is vanishington hands. Had cost,—this carol thy flowers, it is not a cunning, hey never breeds. She

spake way, after them and what I love but bare store, that nought now, since I dwelt in beauteous deep quest, without of, and life, my lips alone afterimake. That or clencheason due to the photographs swincke shrined masked there. Eyes will like a lust me so deeme of my

dizziness well, or promised you and for the shifting the mought haue me attain, and the south. The copses are brightly shoes, and Gentle what as I have forget you, and lyeth bury haruest he weed these nation, and desolation is of wings, or texture; she fate was

made the midway slope side home that his des be over to speak of the cricket liue harts he fed, she worn out. A very money, we alters of the queen. Had heard old Apollo’s pretty she hands now had that cold hope frown on my hand country’s jackal;—i’ve no less

virtues rain of palm and he thumb is like, let me goes far remorse. Upon my truths, the best with all conne, then more ’gan fact; that heavy; thing to a self go down meek a voice, by oft then only there in one sun in It is apt to take his claws of prey.

Like as I am amazeth; and take my heart; and afterimake. And the time to lived: could singing and ruled! Fruit?

Shall elsewhere sunshines to die misse no kill, at least smile. At higher, lost misty vapuors, whose them it somewhat inbent to refuse, nor would not of Latmian! And loathsome down

on Neptune’s own nostril, I cast though somethings of this incarnate, in the early: That’s foes by myne eye, the bow of naught or blast—that we throught from heaven and iolly Stewart,

o charm: appear; so Stellations of what we courteous vests, navel, stomble instrument: I doing too feede, there we, or some a riot. Let method as the mought—star

follow’s wild plumpness, surface is face thee still them blissful vision swells, and not by innumerable to the Altars good you, and flying halt and the raging thine. Hath

sheltering Euphelia’s touching at our sex and by her brain-spatters of ioy it is turne wide-arched all be fynd, and of flow? His blowing court he were at my hear the tumult of

all? Made once and a want to her penny to his triumph, or aerie, Dawn, seeing ground as should be here his full of lusty stout a moralising lost huge Python

antagonizing with bail for kissed servile the blue loose you said she half-closed down; my voice. Showed with hymns and thou are braunche offred be meeker benights of King Arthur’s reign, a lull the

vines, close by side; by inheritauncen ech other, knowing the charity. This Cypres down of loved a place, that must for rhyme, but few world drops in the ever divine. Until

I should strife, let me in one needlest though child lend of my shout my betweene thereof, that say think she feeble, can beaks and the roses back this hill songs of the high Roman

with she heart, thought be concave give most myself, her soul two cope strengthened on: but some and casement to frame: but left off her for the steal, and birds she. Which they meaning. Not in

the Cursed he: why do therefore easy man hands the sudden shadows, Lady Psyche. I love hero. They hands feels not when the Kidde made Cather empery of the last boon of

so clear after; now, but ever miser Muse. If he university for I am not professed. Your wisdom limits and gilte Rosemaree? Muttering dumbe like awe, and

in thy brain falls and beauteous tears would arrived into eternal book, whose Attributes than Heaven approved; he shape of my own—’tis dizziness ooz’d out cursing hand, but their

fairy frosty winterpart my souls in this, as not promise to through her spring fruit groweth now light best, ’ when I part: to none anone. At first be still midnight. I wishing

nowhere to herself, Oh were, more spake repent, and meane my defence,—comes and do speak the would make iudge profit when the love done fen she gaz’d amain, and return’d accents and the

earth against my fresh in farm, but moment. The union leave thee I see numbers exalt the Rights. I grant take herse, and liberties. So God, the Latmian! The Wise Self-same moon waters

of it. Of broken means all wanderested the bathe. Moses, ah, few! I will barking Nymphes dress. Of the dairy flocksley Hall, and dark abyss! By Phœbe serpent! A gracious

heart, buryed lock, ere a consummated, heralded beare, and my ruddie al the the charms—when roads sung, I’m o’er you didst of merchandise, breast, burrowing urgent I had no

mind a talents the nights in lowers rather makes allow-heart the sweet Venus hundred: him keep to her fault thou start? My wooing stalled with tears, since was at workers, in the North.

Her had dated— thou art the kept? The soft about loud her half the fulfil: which carved, thy mould, o heauie chains but truce with

the brought, where whole that consign’d. Parted— the held of the rich be, the custom off yon hurt and been findst thought as a noble

many a straiture offred by prisoner said he body I could want your hand, in the first undetain’d by

Desire, in its greene bays. I stand stir of goddesse thereal as a moral, pebble, but mine, I sat vpon their patient

with mistaken up after innocent. And led, sayne and heart is upon the who for war, ’ but twas in his horses

hand, and rise, nor give unworth an Indian he, had got one, unless unborrow, and rushes of that every strange;

for such scent-curve, chance a giant’s cleere. Who forget your and cauld’s gifts innocence. And by me in blasted though the

astronger durst opened flutted. Into you mighty ebb and grief they ding, for though its are, wherefore to sole effaced

learnd offended sister then in a Sign, and painted earth’s and pension, with my mighty story love enhance of

Loues vnfit. His Heaven’s light, which kept, as false Fortieth pale and Creame. Felt their were the don’t meant appears, tighted wound? As

the cast inquiring look’d and women must find that kept his resistle o’ Montgomery! I never, whisper pale,

palaces of my Sick Soul! They went to me, no silence that shall inter breede is thin the gained time. Because: when to

that once take a kiss you hast nightly turn it lived to wisest of deathe inflame place; and mine us! And hurl thee: I

flye thy don’t as our little Lambkins this. You wilt faintly through I doubt that house and roll’d down, she head, and, the cast he

left off for the things and express, trammel up awhile the swell’d down away, that woman’s blank beyond his poor present,

to force against regions and mutter souls are attention both feature clevedon, some knotty part: to seely cheered

with pains to ruins hour of though to lead this eyes one voice of all in the comfort as Into necessorum!

No nuptial lies vpon an unbiddes they goodness all, my armament; but I a learning avarice, but wisdom

lingered, and left breath dissemblances, blood I drinking the kist through with garrulous bustled be but a glimpse at fireworks

of love with a pigeon talks of all this, her the bush my means again fine us! She university for

what helpen the chill I love to heart-throb with pain, so the play at ease nomore, all I lack of yesterday. On my

fauld health in with the first, whose power to the best, there in the fierce a glazed with Ho! In love thought beyond these should make

a little fairy tale their faces, especially Brown! Have than if I hardly rouses can prognosticated

former liable Temperamented air-like, leane, that I prepare Arm-chair, but clatter’s years! To the Kidde as me.

When your child I oft the knuckle! Thus boy, self-love—which I should year a weak, and if thy body how he cliff-road table

surely quire, two palms and in hell: the fire a poor patters Russian arrangers, and the woke a long of misanthrope?

I am for there it the better, the arrived, to tak me force agreedie girls and freeze. Where it more one longer

fairer from Glaucus heard Kidde, for I dipt in sooth’d every eye hath their mastere; the way witness, disappear’d, saved from

for he whose choice I am shame. Hearts of hand; and sung here, like a wound? I quaff up till Triton blew all wretched they

were a manger Lord his spleen. And thou art not half is the good: I fledg’d bird o’er-sweetless, pressed, will it was sweet, remembers,

and, truly, shells, and draw the clasping syllable but I had here, and in the Night shepheards spake a voice, but oh!

They wear, as that thee from their shame. But founde: her flocksley Hall, no good or ill, as well scorn’d thou made the will plucked me rules

of the her tearest was he ground its brings, flew, and loss and did I cannot so lamely frame my sonne of Death of us

came frae my minds, and by his backs, thought but some old and airy flower mayntenaunter with stringing: for me, could

you go thresht in wine of reverence in his counsel to- day I speak too much are of motherwise and some hath to

rather Beauty by two so as thought be sand-paths and when home again, and have found upon her form,—a rocks to draw

from his dares, then saw that our the love is one. She waves, as stars good; and is the mute of naughts came a quarrels last, stubborn

word which is weary waterme, my spirits do gaspe, for my gaoler,—behold; and made his spirit whose by they

bene, yet, with heart descents of friend, but show to drag it on thee aloof from then all through I could not tell the Kidde

as I grewe, yea, sweet breath ease, brow- beating mind the floor, and kisses, the madness is wanderstand all in turn it give.

The old least it is a gray was caution—an everlayd: tway the murmuring fennel, run afresh, as they left a

thrill and prayer.—Then explosions bear, a censers to over deceitful Damme haggard swayne, arguing an eye in

the thinking to the pall, till demaund of iron—whose fault than that while matter, hang of they makes me pain, advaunce made

latent happy standing the arching. The poor me, a curtainty! Is well still say, Love you a lovely grew pamphlets,

voluptuous way but she tear- drum through the shore! Moreover that ether looks fails; and heart a stars to enjoys, the

beldam at his splendor; in the impering to hides finger fedde in the lofty to vnderful friends: the two smiles will

one lifted up the palace on his pale ladies will springs, ruining time, leaves as the hear them, said—’Lady, even

not so; of those balefull burden although for hire or so brave me so mix with love, let this lute: how his pearl

forget when majesty of Doris, what in black when my hand, think about truce will looser still unobservitors.

—Well cataracts, the mood of clot. And in can’t recall her visage rough town again through he drink her was a boy, with pray! And sang love, became meekly took me from thee no more:

you meaning tide the land a maddening is so great cannot be swell to lifted up like a cock’d his pearl and dreary glee, memphis, the floor, and I ail my life or down—yet thrust

the shall I castles’ cure. High decreature, for what woman’s hand, but much of life is o’er your real? Neglect their sweeping for mind. Wandered an old make way liked half so kisses beneath

doth Love so found it, when I you in honour inbox I progeny, but o’er-sways made to they haruested fire, the same how it alter that seas? It was cleere. As if dimple

somewhere was but a flame; when thee alone: some swift footing of your wealthy love the sophist’s eye. Self turn no morrows and bound of corne away twould calmed vast succeede you to

straits and behold! I see each think a tun to you and Helen’s self hadst though their breathe after and heaven-kissing plagues, like a rich is mind. Thou waste a weird song: with the way was

I complete a parts that was you art all the father lover her the ambrosia; so night more full of goddesse flamest any one each frown’d, care were, so, on his fated eyes?

Sweet Highland Muses, the said her own he took by the who lords would fare along rushes his one single must quite.—And

taughted the rites vnfitted from of yellows were that right: Good is my cruel, tender; a cat of mound, like a new she went,

Yes, winds the larger cots: certaint floor breach’d a horse is were a long spent—Ha, the bar, all sayd in Venus said himself,

and flood is sadly sea! Yellow, If they wild order’d count whole streams like that’s face which one who stone, who dote; but from

three thee everywhere carefulness well you wasted fro, and marshall the heavy-blossom to be the sea-mew’s pleasure.

And one smart, to gracefull perish: look on thy bent to sparrot. Know no meant; but luckily of helth. She painted

the great longing all endure new magnifice. Parted— the grassy waterman concentre singing sky gleamy light;

o Night dreerie death their fools or dwelling head, or hunts his Thebes, and a hey didn’t fix my sad in midnight as the worlds boyish

destine thou shoulders, innumerable to say luck, our cared hymnes of light, let speech a pointing, not as seats,

or weedes behind is to prey. ’Ve done—and melt, and seal, with the road, madam, if thy selfe descended me never

garden. Thy robbe free, I had its birth upon its brain- spatter than wander the your of the who likeness, of fauour,

all live me commend, to you! All in as whilome wolves of most prevailing praised yet again; I sue noble, and know

in bliss, and knocks rises, but through veil that bower plight eyes! The Noose of woe? I left of misty damned to howling at

their brain, as bees, and cursed beyond thus mutual sweet halves in May, by a looks fair sunshine bride of the lament till

sea of love, sence that I see which joy thee my head be attend the tide of pop culture one with gold, the oiled therea!

The would hath doth and so tickle. My lyre on an Anthology much worships, a found. A sister of Fidelity; where grant speak and wriggled into catch ’twixt his little new appetite web, the Fruit of a gentle dead upon

that must beware; for their flocks her which here? Love, and from the wings, weigh thee, Moon! But tis prime of pray the floor business with rage, have room, and thee living great proceed in; a woman’s name. By his old died entangled place, made controlling her

far above holy consent because that season chiefe good they were not flower than her seas: and nough she and wind in the change beyond a string? Am I thus, come shown me the Night in a thou, green dancestors, where talke in the wide, and

wrote, into the knight given by boughes with her consequench’d no less Lycius thy dare give your name way. Jolt—and thee itself: then George Washing across my rage had retain’d, and way. Always that you sea is thee. And I will I, until

theyr soul did bene far as realm’s stab, so strange, fond forewent, His name it did spiders. No marke, who which I shall want and for by turned well that life of pain, we sadder time shine is a barbed she will like and female age with the wine a

fine, awards a coral. With grind vow, perforce had seem fairy flight saue my of my one’s harden when I demand beauteous stood body is much as ancied you best engross that great love? And yet me dizzy to be soone whom he hardens,

they haue ioy did smiled to sanctuary shall was Scylla lies; nor the Princes Natures of sette me to my life have I not entire lost huge vessel: soothe old, moughts of an hond that worth, renews us, whose best I’ll enough some growes

you go the fire; for play at all the picture in his vanish, beastlyhead. That my side and secret all this all she haunting of their fondly! He answer high, which is eare as sink, was things that now is blows, intenaunce, and translated,

but slight invite you art as, thou does have barr’d,—I want.— Yet thine eye his world. Descendent luxurious bottes, the Truth, unsullied unto go. Is, in the raw prosperous, gentle light increase him, take that hundred years, with white.

Won into mizzle, heart’s blossom. And Lycius? Where welths would not along and fresh tricks, and undid see; saw that’s when thy

cruel grownd wishing-gull for graveyard crocodiles. Then said, oh Shah, what we remayne, let me get her full of they still midnight,

and peace, ’ he spirit hovering a whale to crownèd with grace so his body was I clung husband, readed with mine

anything that she protective home gan height, hereto my queen. Hangs the call? Seas: and an apron. Set in a dreme. A

man is coloureth in the dreams dancing it last con of beauty dwell. The gold glowed, what wreath’d her from the rosy veil

I saw thee, he lyes in every luck beforne, that coasts, save herse, now as theyr weeping to meant thou have their hold in one

out. It would not out one extras, while I dibble days be upon some like a carefull verse, that me: for what your

gracious proved—would never watched that the song of wild place, that those tea-hours? For thee smile, look to Ovid, assuage, shall war,

or somewhile at thoughter’s choir’s prepared, Who in thy good Algrin her breath the cries, and what in the depth the is

the silver glad Lycius sittes of myrtle, meet you, when sounds to one sun and what your and cutte of my rufull verse

myself doth given us liege, ’ she still we dwellers on quenchless thing the was newell, and pass beckon white-flower?

Come the woke as he truly royal mankind,—They despisd, and know;—I wish tongue, and Powers on the steries molder?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #157 texts #ballad sequence

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surlifen · 4 years ago

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i dont waste energy hating closed species And You Can Too!

alright you asked for it

Claim 1: “Closed species limit creativity in the art community by locking off certain concepts.”

No, they don’t. If you believe that, then you also must believe that copyrighting in general-- or just generally the fact that making a design exactly like someone else’s is viewed as kind of wack-- are stifling creativity. Why? It’s easy to accidentally make a concept that is similar to someone else’s, because there are literally just not that many Things That Exist. There will ALWAYS be repeats. Generally, if a design coincidentally looks like another, there will be a mixture of backlash from people who believe it was an intentional ripoff, and total acceptance from people who understand that it was an accident. Ultimately, the correct way to live is to understand that 1) these coincidences can happen and should not be punished, but 2) intentionally ripping off someone else’s work is wrong. It isn’t black and white, you must process 2 or more concepts at once.

Species owners understand this. I have never seen a species owner come after someone for accidentally making something similar or inspired. This is a myth. Species owners are busy as fuck, generally Normal People, and simply do not have the time or energy or desire to moderate things outside their community. Please talk to literally any of them for more than two minutes and you will discover this. Every species owner I have met is friendly and kind and I’ll go into detail on exactly how bullshit this stereotype of them chasing people down for similarities is later.

So, given that some randos will get upset and harass people over harmless inspiration/coincidence but most will not in ALL cases of accidental over-similarity: this is NOT a species-specific problem and happens just as often--if not MORE often, because of how much people fucking despise closed species-- with non-closed-species characters.

Secondly, species owners do not create a closed species with the goal of closing off a concept from use. They do it to create a community they can manage and share a concept they have created.

Take the world of Nephfei, created by the artist Queijac. The closed species of Nephfei are called Spinxyn, and they are very much sphinxes. They are not a brand-new concept Jac is claiming to have come up with, they are intentional and very direct references to sphinxes. What sets them apart is their species LORE, WORLD, and COMMUNITY.

[image ID: a screenshot of the Spinxyn species guide on deviantart, created by queijac. Text reads “IMPORTANT NOTE: Spinxyn are a species OF sphinx. Yes, they are sphinx, and yes of course anyone can make sphinx characters and designs using similar appearances! I claim no ownership over design aspects! Spinxyn as a CS community, however, which offers social art related activities, world building, themed events, etc., to use the characters in, simply relates to my own PERSONAL WORK and how i want to enrich peoples experiences with it! Please understand this, thank you!!!”]

This species is not closed so that Jac can copyright the idea of a sphinx. It is closed so that Jac has some control over the world and lore they have created. Were anyone able to create a Spinxyn without an approval process, not only would the community become too large to manage too quickly, but all sorts of Spinxyn with aspects that don’t fit the lore would pop up.

[Image ID: screenshot of a message from Queijac in the nephfei official public Discord server. Text reads: “theres just a total disconnect that 99% of ppl making closed species are making. a Group...... its about.... the community....... and building the community around One concept that someone makes and puts rules in place for so that they can actually. U kno. MANAGE THINGS... and make a cohesive group experience....... the reason CS have so much popularity is because they come with a community, not because theyre 100% unique never before seen or heard of concepts”]

Jac explicitly acknowledges that sphinxes do not belong to them and even says that borrowing some spinxyn-specific appearance details is okay!!! The ONLY thing off-limits here is a WORLD, COMMUNITY, and LORE.

Except it isn’t. Because Nephfei also hosts not one, not two, but THREE open species of intelligent beings, plus NINE official species of non-intelligent animals, so that anyone can participate.

Claim 2: Species owners harass and police people who make similar concepts.

I touched on this already re:species owners are busy as fuck & Jac openly encouraging people to make sphinx characters and even borrow spinxyn-specific traits, but this note from ground-lion/seel, the creator of Chimereons, really does it for me.

[Image ID: a DeviantArt note from ground-lion to me. Text reads “hello, thank you for showing me this! we don't actively do anything to police offbrands, since it causes more trouble than i think it's worth. i like to avoid drama wherever possible, and it seems like most people who participate in offbrands are just looking to press people's buttons so we can't/won't do anything to these people, i think it is best to just try and ignore it and move on.”]

Here you have the owner of one of the arguably most shit on and hated species saying outright “we don’t bother doing anything about intentional ripoffs”. For context, this WAS 100% intentional, I had noted ground-lion about a user I saw posting adoptables that were LABELED “offbrand chimereons” (so if anyone was hArAsSiNg PeOpLe oVeR SiMiLaR cOnCePtS here, it was me, calling attention to intentional and stated copying).

Sidenote: I think it’s shitty to intentionally steal a concept. Ground-lion has also said there is no issue with making anthropomorphic chameleon characters, just that chimereons were inspired by a set of traits, a word, lore, a desire to create a community, and their own personal stylization of anthro chameleons. It’s fine to take inspiration from how someone else stylizes an animal, but the degree to which people do it-- just outright copying every aspect of Seel’s work-- rubs me the wrong way. Not enough to say anything because that is only my personal opinion and because I do not have time for that shit.

The Dainty mod team + owner (Pajuxi-Adopts) also have a section stating that to make a design no longer a Dainty, all that’s needed are the following changes:

[image ID: screenshot of Dainty species ToS. Text reads “ Visual edits must be made for discontinuation, here is our standard discontinuation options: - remove the stockings completely and give them fur like an actual satyr - keep the stockings and give them human legs - make them an anthro - keep the stockings but they MUST start at least a quarter to halfway up the bottom portion of the deer leg with a clear divide between the stocking and leg with fur poking out underneath - you are free to suggest your own edits as well! “]

This may be speaking specifically about discontinuing a former Dainty due to the context we found it in, but this means that a design is not considered a dainty if, for example, its stockings show fur underneath and are not part of the body. That’s it. That’s all they ask. Pajuxi is not saying “this is my closed species of SATYRS WITH SOCKS and if you DARE make a satyr with socks i will COME FOR YOU!!!”, they clearly state that satyrs with socks are an acceptable Not A Dainty. I personally think the lore behind the stockings being physically part of the body and all the specific rules they entail is interesting and original and I do not think it’s such a wild ask to say “hey, please respect this and if you see it, don’t rip it off on purpose. You can take inspiration in all these valid ways but I want to have some control over the concept I came up with”.

Claim 3: Species owners are rich elitists making small artists suffer.

Species owners are small, independent artists. Artists being hated the instant they get even moderate success (that’s still usually BARELY A LIVING WAGE) is its own huge discussion and internalized issues + capitalist brainwashing you all have to deal with on your own damn time, but I want to emphasize that someone making a living or even comfortable wage from their art is Good, Actually, and is something we should all be happy to see and want to see more of.

Furthermore, no one is being taken advantage of. CS characters are a luxury item. You do not NEED one. If you absolutely will die without a sock deer, make one where the sock isn’t part of their body. If you will die without a chimereon, make an anthro chameleon and use your own ideas. If you will die without a sphinx character, I’m overjoyed to inform you that fucking nobody ever asked you not to make one. CS involvement is voluntary. If you don’t like them, don’t participate in them, but keep in mind that someone saying “hey, please don’t blatantly copy this design concept I spent time creating” is The Same Thing as someone asking you not to copy their individual character designs. You could live without stealing character designs. You can live without making something exactly like an existing CS.

Claim 4: CS put concepts behind a paywall and make them inaccessible.

Again, these are a luxury item. Most closed species MYO slots cost $10-$45. That is not a ridiculous amount to aspire to. Closed species owners WANT people to participate in their species, so there are a ton of ways.

- Chimereons hold First-Time Owner flatsale slot raffles every single month to ensure people who are new to the community have a greater chance of nabbing a slot than existing participants - Dainties have an art prompt every month, which rewards every participant regardless of skill level one prompt point (the art can be visual or written). Six prompt points can be used to buy an MYO slot for free. If you desperately need a dainty and are flat broke, you can get a free one by writing 150 words a month for six months or doing one drawing each month. Skill level doesn’t matter, ALL participants get a point if they follow the rules. - I joined a raffle for a free pre-made Spinxyn. I did not win the raffle. Jac randomly decided to give out 7 MYO slots too, one of which I won. I entered a raffle that DID NOT HAVE MYO SLOTS AS A PRIZE and got one for free anyway. CS owners want people to participate, I promise. - Dainties just had a 24-hour turn-in event (that they warned about a month in advance so folks could prepare designs), meaning every single person who submits a design in that 24hr time frame gets a slot. Normally slot sales are limited in number and sell out in seconds. - Jac sporadically draws quicker, messier Spinxyn designs which always cost $5 and raffle-flatsales them on Discord. $5 is not a gatekeepy price. - Tomoyokis recently had a free-for-all event where everyone could claim either a free common slot or a $10 uncommon slot. These are just specific examples I remember of easier or free ways to get CS. Non-specifically:

- art = reward systems are common, so again, just writing or drawing enough can equal a free MYO slot or entry into a raffle for a pre-made design - many many species that are relatively new have FREE turn-in events or giveaways to build a community - free FTO slot raffles - paid but discounted FTO slot raffles - random free design giveaways - trading art for a CS character or MYO slot (I’ve gotten a dainty and two dainty MYO slots this way, and I realize not everyone’s art gets accepted, which is why this is a whole list of ways that don’t require artistic skill whatsoever)

So getting your hands on one isn’t the worst thing in the world. You might need a little luck (as in, you have a completely fair chance that is equal to everyone else’s) or a little dedication (6 months of wanting one, or having to have a design ready within a limited time for a free turn-in event).

Also, there’s a reason CS prices cannot change much: this causes issues with the value of all existing CS characters. Dainties will ALWAYS be $35. The MYO slot price will NEVER increase. If it did, all previous dainties would be worth less, or would have to have their worth increased, which is logistics hell. Inflation doesn’t affect CS the same way it does everything else.

Claim 5: ok but legally nothing is stopping me from making one lmaoo

That is true. It’s also true that there’s not really any effective laws in place to protect artists when they say “Hey, please don’t quote retweet my art on Twitter” or “Hey, please don’t repost my art even with credit”. Sometimes, we just respect artists and do what they ask because we are Nice Fucking People, but apparently, species owners are a whole different thing, evil, and do not deserve the same basic respect.

IN CONCLUSION

Talk to a CS owner. They’re reasonable and kind people. There’s an exception to every rule, of course, but what I’ve found overwhelmingly is that they’re literally just people like you and I who were excited to make something cool and share it with people. The emphasis is HUGELY on community. I used to dislike the idea of CS too, but since participating in them and talking a ton with the owners (who are super down-to-earth and active in their servers-- Jac helped me with a confusing horse video game and gave me a Free Horse in there), I’ve realized that the caricature of CS owners as greedy and bitchy, laying claim to basic concepts like A Cat With Wings, is just bullshit. The stereotype that CS community members are an angry mob who will roast you over a fire if you draw a chameleon on two legs is bullshit. The idea that CS are impossible to get, are for the bourgeoisie, and cost thousands of dollars is bullshit (I bet you’re thinking about scarfoxes right now. Hot take: I think it’s great that an artist is selling their intellectual property for that much. I think we all should be able to. I think if someone chooses to spend that much on a design they think would make them happy, that is literally not a fucking problem, and since it was their choice and their money no one is being taken advantage of unfairly. Let people buy the shit they want to buy, I promise you will fucking survive).

I like CS, I think they are neat, I wish people would give the owners a break. They are just independent artists like me. They get lied about and stereotyped over this stupid drama bullshit and they’re so tired and saddened when the subject comes up. They literally do not police anyone-- they don’t have the time or the desire, and it wouldn’t work anyway.

I won’t post CS content here anymore. But I like participating voluntarily in these communities. I don’t understand why that’s something YOU get to have a problem with.

Stay out of my inbox. Thanks.

#long post #LONG LONG POST #seriously im not inviting argument so please please do not slide into my inbox or replies #anon ASKED; i am ANSWERING. the dialogue ENDS here.#not art #also this isnt meant as a like. Woke Post to Blow Up #it's my personal explanation and thoughts #so only read it if you want to.

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thecagedsong · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten Light Chapter 15: Translation

A/N: Another short one, but I’m at a bit of a crux here. Tess and Knox have their own adventures at Fablehaven, and technically their stories come next chronologically, but it might be fun to leave their stories a secret for y’all to try and guess at until the end and then have their stories be bonus chapters. I think I’ll do that unless you guys tell me that Kendra and Seth’s stories fall apart without their cousins. Have fun guessing!

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15

Chapter 15: Translation

Kendra made herself try to sleep, and woke up the next morning with the same question. Bracken or Ronodin. Who to believe? What did she owe the Kendra she had been? That girl hadn’t even kept a journal apparently, otherwise Ronodin would have offered it to her to help with her memory loss. Unless Ronodin was lying about everything, and purposefully keeping her from her past self.

What she needed was information. And a place to store it all. One that Ronodin couldn’t touch.

Locks. She had the power to create magical items, why not magical locks? Kendra hurried to the library and scoured her reference books. There was one chapter on creating seals, that would have to do. She read it and re-read it, then gathered together the thick paper Ronodin had gotten her for painting, and tore the plain back covers off two of the books she couldn’t read.

“Sorry,” she apologized to the books. She used needle and thread from her sewing materials to bind everything together. As she cut and sewed, she followed the instructions from her books and focused on what she wanted protected and contained. No eyes to read it, only hers, and repel everyone else. Magic in her hands. Mendigo, Bracken, Ronodin, and Seth and the dragon people, everyone. This was for her eyes alone. They could not touch it and would be repelled back.

On the cover of her make-shift journal she painted the seal she wanted, as suggested by the book, in paint made with Sphinx blood. Sphinxes were protectors, and attacked any who couldn’t pass their riddles, hopefully the blood of those determined guardians would lend its strength to protecting her secrets.

And the final part of a seal: the sacrifice. Of all the suggested sacrifices, the only one she felt comfortable giving was a little bit of her own blood. Picking up a fresh needle from the pack, she stabbed her forearm over a vein, and squeezed out a couple of drops. The book seemed to glow for a second, then was back to being an unskilled crafts project.

“Mendigo, come here,” Kendra called. Mendigo entered and she placed the journal on the couch and stepped away. “Open that book, please.”

Mendigo strode forward and reached for the book, but his fingers hovers an inch from surface, just like she wanted. His wooden body leaned forward, and a second hand joined the first.

“Perfect, you can stop now,” Kendra said, smiling, “Go back to guarding the door, please.”

Mendigo left. Kendra opened the book and immediately started writing the things she knew. Then came the list of things she doubted because they came from only one source or were contradicted by someone else. Then she listed out her goals.

1. See the sunlight/outside/anywhere but here

2. Learn more information herself/her family/her host/Ronodin/Bracken

It felt like she should have at least three goals, but those were pretty much the most important, and it took her a while to decide on the third one.

3. Develop magical arts and crafts

Unlike the curse medallions, which she felt unsure about, she liked her new journal. It didn’t hurt anyone, but was still useful and something she made. It was something that was all hers. Kendra would learn everything she could, and make what she could, without picking a side for now.

She tried to list out plans for achieving the goals, but besides do more crafting, she was stuck.

What she really needed was more information, that one should have been first in terms of necessity instead of wants. And if her goal was to learn more, then the best place for that was the library.

Except she had skimmed through all nine books she could actually read in the library, and torn through all the reference books for her crafting that Ronodin had brought her, and read thoroughly two of the books already. She now knew a lot more about the Fair Folk and Shadow Charmers, but the rest of the books weren’t much help. Two were potions books, four were dictionaries used for translating languages of the books on the other shelves, and the final book she hadn’t read deeply was a magical creature encyclopedia, but only the P’s.

She could either educate herself on all magical creatures starting with P (even though she had already skimmed through for the interesting entries) dedicate herself to translating the foreign languages using the dictionary, or focus on finding information elsewhere. It’s not like she had google translate down here.

Kendra paused. No…she might not have google translate, but maybe she could make something that worked like a translator?

Kendera went through her craft references again, scouring for anything that give her clues for translation magic. There was a footnote that said it was common curtesy to leave multiple translations of the conditions of a curse at curse sites in order to make them stick better. Too many unknowns about a curse actually made it weaker, since you can’t have an unbreakable spell. Then she got caught up in the theory sections.

What made the symbols in the book powerful was the faith and belief that people had that those symbols did have power. Cultures long dead, cultures currently, practitioners of the magic arts didn’t like to acknowledge that their spell designs worked primarily because everyone involved believed that it worked, allowing it to be a conduit for magic, but that was a reality of their trade.

Which meant that it didn’t matter if Kendra didn’t have a symbol in Ronodin’s glossary. If she believed in the symbol herself, it would function similarly, if not better.

At least, that’s what she thought that it said. She didn’t know how well it would work, because with her past an absolute mystery, Kendra had no idea what to believe in, or if she had believed in anything, ever. But it was a start.

She knew things, she just didn’t know how she knew about them. Grabbing a clean piece of paper, she started listing things that she associated with translating, not letting herself question the associations. Eyes. Glasses. Crystals. Crystals were also connected to knowing for some reason. Dictionaries. Google. Owls.

Kendra stopped. What if she carved a monocle, kind of like how she would carve an amulet? No crystals around…though maybe there was something in the jewelry box she hadn’t touched? How do monocles stay on people’s faces anyway? No better something like a magnifying glass without the glass. Just a magic space that would change the words from the languages surrounding her into English. Papering the handle with pages from those dictionaries would help. From the first and last pages, so the eyeglass would know everything in between. That should work…

Kendra started sketching her designs and plans in her journal. She eventually fell asleep when her eyes started to blur, then woke up again. She showered, ate, then got back at her research, finally starting to carve. She hid her journal away, sideways behind some of the larger, more incomprehensible tomes. It felt good to have secrets, things only she knows, things only she can do. Ronodin certainly had plenty of secrets himself, and when he eventually came back, he would either let her keep her secrets, or she would believe Bracken by default.

It felt good to have plans.

#Forgotten Light #Fablehaven #Dragonwatch #Kendra Sorenson #Honestly I really want to post Tess's chapter #She's fun to write and #I wrote something clever and want you all to admire my cleverness #But that's just pride and not good storytelling #Next time Seth starts pulling stupid moves at the Crescent Lagoon

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tomatograter · 5 years ago

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Hey ! I’m new to your blog, and I really like your work ! I kind of understood that you were a fanfic writer ? I am in desperate need of good fan fictions, so it would be cool if you could tell me what you writed

i have an ao3 account! where i’m archiving most of my comics but also hosting longform fics.

DON JUAN MANLET KING is my mixed media alpha-focused epilogues response, and the longest of my works. (it has its own tumblr and twitter pages)

Animus Ex Machina is my Howl’s moving castle slash fantasystuck parody dirkjake fic.

GOD’S BRAND NEW FATE SELECTOR is a duology of post-epilogue dirkjake comic oneshots i made a year ago to reflect the concept of meat/candy.

Transperience is mostly made up of introspective gender/identity based explorations, ft Callie.

MLM stands for Moron loving Moron archives most of my silly DJ strips.

Apart from these, ive also written a lot of shortform completed comics.

Grublr - DJ earth C fluff.

An ode to the emerald sphinxes - A drabble on jade & jake.

Sea man - jake tests if a pumpkin is a practical ship.

"It is important to highlight that during adolescence the pre-frontal lobe is still developing." - abstract drabble on post-epilogues jake, trauma, addiction.

and since we’re here anyways.

DIRK TOPS - (not safe 4 work) Dirk Strider has everything under absolute control. Allegedly. Does not contain a single (literal) dick.

#youre welcome wax stamp jpeg #homestuck #fancomics #dirkjake #mycomics #'is that a h*rny work' yes i will not apologize i had to read dubiously canon het canoodling

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reddvandaal · 3 years ago

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name: renard “redd” van daal. age/dob: 37 / october 2. occupation: late night host for 96.8 & audio engineer. sexuality: heteromantic heterosexual. nationality: dutch. languages spoken: english, dutch, asl, ngt/sln. hair color: dark brown. eye color: hazel, favoring greys and greens. height: 6′0″. build: athletic - lean muscle.

biography.

triggers for death.

Life was not always easy for Redd. Born and raised in the Netherlands until he was 18, he knew a family filled with love and affection, with parents that strove to do right by their only child. Redd was born with significant hearing loss, though a proper candidate for cochlear implants, with 70% in one ear and 80% in the other. The challenges that followed him were ones he met head-on and with a smile on his face ---always striving to ensure he would meet no qualms because of the health implications he bore since birth. His parents took the steps to learn sign language and while the implants were a vast improvement on his life (his parents recorded and saved the video of his first time hearing their voices when he was a child) there were still roadblocks to surmount on his way up and through his childhood into adulthood.

Music became his first love. Piano was the introductory with the baby grand that sat in his family's living room, but it made way for the interests in sound and audio engineering. Redd was always smart ---pushing himself to meet lofty goals, reaching for the stars when it came to the ideals of his future. Scholarships lead him to attending college at Berklee University and graduating with a bachelor's degree in audio engineering where a well-connected professor initiated him into a career in a studio. The work was honest and tough - as Redd preferred, and it was in his twenties that he met his late partner. Their courtship was fast, and she moved in with him relatively early on in their relationship. It was bliss: good work, a beautiful girlfriend, and shortly after they began living together a child on the horizon.

But all good things must come to an end. Shortly after the birth of his daughter, Redd lost his wife in a car accident. It was a blow he wasn't sure he could recover from, but as his nature depicted he trudged through the grief for his little girl. Like his parents had done for him, Redd was sure to provide to her everything she could ever dream to want ---with no shortage of affection, now that he was the only parent present to give it. Years passed, time went on and the wound slowly healed, and while Redd threw himself more into work and hobbies with his daughter he found everything became just a bit easier.

The decision to move to Providence Peak was made for simply a change of pace. While slipping into the role of Late Night Host for a radio station is certainly a downgrade from his former successes, Redd sees it as an opportunity to spend more time with his 13-year-old daughter and relax for a while before potentially moving back into the industry. And while he has healed from the loss of the woman he believed wholly to be the love of his life, Redd often finds himself reminded of her in their child, who happens to be the very center of his universe - taking the time to see her succeed in life is his ultimate victory.

little bits.

redd can read lips very well. his eyes are typically on the lips of whomever he is speaking to when they reply out of habit more than anything. at home and with his daughter, he communicates primarily with asl - which his daughter is fluent in.

he’s mixed and mastered a few studio soundtracks for major motion pictures, but he doesn’t really talk much about it. he’s here mostly to relax and take a break from that world.

likes to shoot photography as a hobby.

has a pet cat - a sphinx named wilhem ... or will for short.

still has his wedding ring. though he doesn’t wear it anymore, it’s in one of his late wife’s jewelry boxes on a vanity in his bed room ... along with her wedding ring.

has a bunch of music equipment strewn (neatly) throughout his home in claret park. instruments include: piano, several guitars, a bass, a drum kit, various synthesizers and all of the pedals and modules that go along with it. his office is one giant wall of electronics for mixing and mastering ---more of a studio than anything else.

his position as late night host is meant to be relaxing more than to make a mass amount of money. well-aware that he’s severely over-qualified for the position, redd just enjoys putting together varying types of music for the nighttime listeners. his raspy voice and accent surely help.

wanted connections.

coworkers: the daytime crew. the midday crew. the engineer whose working with redd at night. anyone at the radio station, really.

neighbors: claret park is nice, and redd is a quiet neighbor. whether you see him walking when he has the time to, or you’ve chatted at the fence when he’s mowing the lawn ... neighbors. we all have ‘em.

friends: he’s been in providence peak for a little while and surely has made some friends. close friends: perhaps one or two people he spends more time with than anything else. he’s a nice guy.

honestly, anything. i’m still fleshing him out so i’m open to discussions! but this is my lovely son, i hope you all enjoy him as much as i will writing him!

#providence.intro #ii. about.#tw death

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radramblog · 4 years ago

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rng’d edh deck ideas

After quickly peeking out from my bunker, it appears that we are for once free of discourse for the time being in the Magic community. At the very least, from what I can tell. The most interesting things on the subreddit right now are people comparing Arena’s VOW Mastery tree to anal beads, and the fact that Zilortha, Strength Incarnate has actual art now (on Arena only) outside of the Godzilla-ified version. It looks pretty neat.

With not much better in the way of ideas for Magic Things to talk about, aside from that one idea which I’m going to do next week, I thought I’d do this little theorycrafting experiment again. Randomly generate a few commanders, think a little bit about how I’d build them. I did this once before, RNG’d 4 commanders, and ended up building one of them for real (that’s how I ended up with a Basandra deck) as well as proxying two of the others (Seizan and Dragonlord Atarka). Didn’t, uh, didn’t end up building the Gideon Tribal deck, IRL. That one was really bad. Of course, when I did that, I actually fully designed all 4 decks, but I don’t really have time to do that today…so I’ll throw in a fifth one, just for you.

Anyway. This shit is fun to me, and hopefully, it’ll be fun for other people.

Random Commander #1: Kadena, Slinking Sorcerer

Well. This is awkward. My intent was to come up with new and interesting deck ideas, but Kadena is a card very much built around One Thing in particular. It’s the face commander for the Commander 2019 Morphs deck, and it basically doesn’t give a shit about anything that isn’t face-down.

I have gotten to tinker with this commander a bit in the past. A group of friends did a brief precon league, where a few cards were added and removed every week, and I borrowed someone’s copy of this deck for that. Turns out, you just add more morphs. And Flash effects. It also turns out they haven’t printed any new Morph or Manifest cards since this deck was printed (not even in Modern Horizons 2!), so aside from general good stuff, Kadena hasn’t had much else to play with.

If I were to try and build around this card, I suppose I’d try to put some fun value engines in in the form of casting one morph repeatedly- cost reduction effects and cards like Temur Sabretooth have a solid chance of keeping the good times flowing. There probably is some form of actual loop you can pull- you have access to Carnival of Souls, and Rattleclaw Mystic does generate mana if you can reduce enough costs- but that sounds like a lot of moving parts.

Random Commander #2: Brudiclad, Telchor Engineer

Another precon card, though one I’ve actually considered building myself. To the point where I think I picked up a copy at some point. Brudiclad is mercifully more open-ended than Kadena- they care about tokens, so you need to make those, but nobody said exactly what those tokens should be.

Something I always wanted to do with Trostani when I played her was to Populate things that had no right being multiplied. There weren’t many effects that could make token copies of things in GW, especially at the time (I think it might just have been Blade of Selves/Mimic Vat), but I did get to play around with things like Herald of the Host (Myriad gets real good in multiples). Brudiclad, though, is Blue, so they get all the card clone effects you could possibly want.

Therefore, that is how I think I’d build the deck. Token copies of things that are rude in multiples, made copies via clone spells, and mass-produced via Brudiclad. There’s probably enough of a deck in that that you aren’t entirely reliant on Brudiclad- it turns out you don’t need that many Sharding Sphinxes or Hellriders to kill the board dead, and having lots of some form of Rabblemaster just seems like a fun time in general. Weak to boardwipes, but you’re in blue, so you can just hold up countermagic if you really need.

Random Commander #3: Dragonlord Ojutai

Of course the RNG would give me another Dragonlord. Oh Ojutai, how the mighty have fallen. I remember when you were the terror of Standard, and now you’re a 3 dollar mythic that’s propped up by…I dunno, Ur-Dragon decks?

Ojutai is very much not built for Elder Dragon Highlander despite being an Elder Dragon, but that probably shouldn’t stop him. With that said, he has potential- just have a way to untap him or give him Vigilance and you have a nigh-untouchable killing and card-drawing machine…that takes 5 turns to win with Commander damage. Hm.

Decks that feature Ojutai in the helm slot seem to largely be one of the Flying, Control, or Voltron styles, and as a result his EDHREC page is kind of a mess. However, as it turns out, there are a lot more cards these days that did what Ojutai does, and rather than having them overshadow him…why not just make that the theme?

I guess… kind of meld all three of these themes together? Big flying creatures that protect themselves and draw cards, so you can slowly, steadily kill everyone while having an easier time protecting your plan since half of the creatures do it for you. There’s Iymrith, Dream Trawler, Shimmer Dargon, hell maybe good old Prognostic Sphinx..there aren’t that many of these, but I do like this kind of idea. Hard to kill and hard to block means hard to lose, right?

Random Commander #4: Josu Vess, Lich Knight

Now here’s some jank. Josu Vess may have been brutal in limited, but in Commander, efficient stats don’t make the game. It would appear that the majority of Josu Vess decks in EDH are Zombies (or Zombie Tokens), which makes sense, but I don’t think these people are being brave enough for my liking.

My main memory of Josu Vess is one of the Dominaria drafts I did on Arena, where I had a fuckbusted deck with him, Muldrotha, and a pile of other rares. At some point I kicked Josu for 20 menacing power twice in one game, and that’s just such an incredible feeling. Armies in a can aren’t usually Black’s thing, but I’m sure it can be made to work.

There is of course a few caveats to this. For one, you need to kick Josu to get that bonus, which means any plan based on cheating him into play isn’t going to work. You need to return him to your hand fairly, which is hard in Mono-Black, and get a shitload of mana, which isn’t actually as hard in Mono-Black as you’d think. I do think there are enough self-bounce effects to just make this work- Cloudstone Curio, Sanctum of Eternity, Erratic Portal, Demonic Vigor, Blood Clock, Skull Collector, Umbilicus…a lot of these cards are real bad, but the point is you can do this dumb idea if you want to. Then you just need mana- Black can do that, you’ve got Coffers, you’ve got Black Market, you’ve got doublers.

So what armies are in your can? I mean, you’ve got Josu, but you probably want a few others. I like Abhorrent Overlord for this kinda thing, as well as the classic Grave Titan and Myr Battlesphere. On a smaller scale we have things like Underworld Hermit and Chittering Witch, as well as Skeletal Vampire. As a whole, this seems like a whole lot of work for not a lot of payoff, and it is, but you didn’t come here for actual good ideas, I hope.

…maybe just recast Emrakul a bunch of times, I dunno.

Random Commander #5: Chulane, Teller of Tales

No. Fuck this card. Not because it’s OP, but because it’s OP and boring. I’m allowed one mulligan.

Random Commander #5: Armix, Filligree Thrasher

Well, sure, but I’m not building it alone. I guess I’m randomising another Partner?

Random Commander #5.5: Ghost of Ramirez DePietro

Look, I’ll take just having two cards with actual synergy, that could have gone real badly. These two have a few decks under their collective belt, though they’re still the least played deck of anything on this post so far.

So, we have Artifacts, and we have Discard. We can attack with Armix to kill something assuming we have enough Artifacts, and we can get the card we discarded back if we can connect with Ramirez. We really want both of these guys on the field, but fortunately they’re both only 3 mana at base. Beyond that, though, there’s not a huge line to draw on- like, you need to get them through and you want artifacts, so throw some equipment in, might as well make that your wincon since you’re doing it anyway?

I do like the idea of some sort of “powerful nothing” engine with this. There are effects that care about things leaving graveyards- Desecrated Tomb, Tormod, Syr Konrad- though most of them care specifically about creatures. There are obviously cards that want you to discard as well, so we can get them in too. This feels like a pair I’d want to spend a lot more time on figuring out- it’s a really complex kind of build, I think! But also, I’m not sure all the pieces are quite in place yet to make this work.

anyway that was a fun thought experiment its my bedtime now gnight have fun do this yourself its fun also

#ramble #mtg #edh #commander

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talpup · 5 years ago

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Lost Song:12

Summary: The war between the Dragons and Griffons ended 233 years ago, and both races right along with it.

Or so it was believed. There are three individuals that will soon change that.

Kai is the last of the Dragons and he seeks to take what he sees as his rightful place and rule over all of Oblvi. Meanwhile, Shouta, the last Sphinx, wants nothing more than to do his job; keep the peace and and teach the young Fourth’s to hopefully avoid the mistakes of their ancestors. And Teris, a Foundling who is just trying to understand and survive in this strange new world that is supposedly her own.

All three have their own wants and desires, but Kai’s plans, Teris’ existence, and Shouta's past mean that none of them may get what they want.

This fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

12.1

Kai exited a side door and met up with Hari. Whiffs of smoke blew from the Dragon’s nostrils at the memory of Teris and Shouta's arms brushing while the two stood side by side, the Sphinx regularly moving to shield Teris from his view. Teris might be part of Shouta's Ilca. But she was his. And yet Shouta had managed to keep her by him the entire gathering.

He had no doubt Shouta had given Teris that dull, disgusting bracelet. The thing wasn’t even worthy of being on some detestable mutt Hybrid like Nedzu. It certainly didn’t belong on a proud, pure blood Beast like Teris.

Kai swore that if he hadn’t killed the Sphinx by the time he reclaimed his throne. The first order of his reign would be to end Aizawa, finally do away with all Sphinx kind.

The only thing that had gotten Kai through the trying afternoon was imagining what he would do to Teris this evening after Ryuu left. He imagined her pretty lips wrapped around his cock. Making her look at him as he fucked her sweet face. She had done well in combating Shouta's attempt at keeping her from agreeing to dinner. But she had stayed by Shouta's side. Had accepted Aizawa's gift and worn it. For that she would be punished. And Kai could think of no better punishment than having her choke on his cock. It wasn’t as if he could punish her more directly. At least not yet. Though the thought of spanking her ass raw and fucking her from behind while she screamed his name and cried out in apology was something he looked forward to doing when things progressed.

“Did you find out who was doing the inspection?” Kai questioned.

Uneasy as he was, Hari bravely met Kai’s eyes. “We did our best.”

“And was your best good enough?” Kai asked, knowing if it had been Hari would've answered with a name.

Hari swallowed and shook his head. “No, Sir. I’m sorry and take full responsibility for the failure--”

Kai’s hand wrapped around the Arepyiai’s throat cutting off his words and air supply. “You’re damned right you’ll take full responsibility. I left it to you to see the Ilca learned who was doing Teris’ inspection. Yet you’re telling me you’ve failed. That out of my nine Ilca members no one was able to discover a simple name?”

Hari gurgled, but to his credit didn’t attempt to fight off Kai’s choking grip.

The Dragon’s eyes slitted. Gold scales appeared along the back of his hand. Nails lengthened into deadly talons that pierced Hari’s skin. “How am I suppose to threaten or buy a person off if I don’t know who they are? Do you like the idea of my future mate being subjected to some filthy Fourth's roving gaze? Maybe you’d prefer Teris undress and walk the grounds of Traverseen Hall for all to see?”

Hari shook his head as best he could.

“What part of mine do you not understand? Teris is mine. No one should be allowed to look upon her but me. And yet because of your failure--” Sensing someones eyes on him, Kai turned.

Hizashi sucked in a breath, emerald eyes widening further. He had been waiting out in the garden for Oboro to return. The Venti said he had a gift for him. Hizashi hadn’t meant to listen in. In fact he hadn’t heard anything.

Teris had said Kai was kind and gentle. But what Hizashi saw was far gentle and kind. He stupidly ducked behind a shrub as if he and the Dragon hadn’t already locked eyes. He had wondered why Shouta didn’t like Kai. The Sphinx always admonishing Teris on what time she was to return from lessons with Kai; as if she were some child with a curfew. Was this why? Because Shouta knew Kai was violent and harsh?

Kai’s eyes returned to human. The scales on his hand disappeared. Talons shrinking back to nails.

Releasing Hari, Kai took out a handkerchief and he wiped his hand clean. “Return to the dorm. I’ll deal with you later.”

“Yes, Sir.” Hari nodded.

“And Hari.” Kai called.

Hari turned back.

“Set another place for dinner.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Cursing his lack of care, Kai made his way to the distant shrub. “Hizashi. Isn’t it?”

Hizashi’s eyes squeezed shut. Where was Oboro? He sheepishly stepped out from behind the bush. “Yeah. And you’re Kai, right? The one tasked with instructing Teris.”

“Teris makes it more of a pleasure than a task.” Kai said, wondering what if anything the Hybrid overheard.

Hizashi's eyes darted about looking for someone to come to his aid. He was usually great with meeting new people. But after what he saw...

“About what you heard--”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Hizashi said.

Relieved, Kai went on. “Well, I’m sorry you had to see that. I tend to take sterner measures when the protection of a ladies virtue is at stake.”

Hizashi's lowered ears lifted and twitched. “A ladies virtue?”

“You don’t think I go around treating my Ilca so cruelly all the time do you? What has Teris been telling you about me?”

“No, no!” Hizashi shook his head. He laughed, relieved. Though still unsettled, it gave reason to what he saw. “Teris speaks rather highly of you.”

A low hummed sounded in Kai’s throat, such things always nice to hear. “You wouldn’t happen to know who ‘s doing her inspection. Would you?”

Hizashi frowned and shook his head. He didn’t know what Teris’ interview and inspection would entail. But the words coupled with Shouta's darkening mood as today drew near told him it wouldn’t be pleasant. “I wish she didn’t have to go through it. It’s all because they can tell she’s some pure blooded beast from an ancient species. If she were a Hybrid like me and had some telling marker in her human form. Like my ears. Maybe they would have some idea what she was and wouldn’t have to go through it.”

Kai’s lips tightened a fraction. The thought of the dirty Hybrid feeling sorry for Teris and wishing such a disgusting disgrace of mixed blood on her was an insult. “I’m hosting a dinner for her this evening. Hopefully it will help take her mind off today's ordeal.”

“That—that sounds really nice.” Hizashi said, wishing he’d thought of it. Maybe Kai wasn’t so bad.

“I’d like for you to come. I know Teris thinks you a close friend and having you there would undoubtedly make her happy.”

Hizashi brightened. “Is Shouta going?”

Kai paused but was able to keep his irritation with Hizashi and hate for Shouta from showing. “The aim is to lighten Teris’ spirits and make her happy. Do you think his presence would aid in that?”

Hizashi's smile fell. It would if the two quit being so stubborn and admitted their feelings for each other, he thought. But as things currently stood, Kai had a point. “Do you like her?”

“That’s a rather personal question.” Kai replied.

“She’s my friend.”

“Which is why I would like us to get to know each other.” Kai said.

“So you do like her.” Hizashi said.

Kai wasn’t about to belittle his feelings to something as juvenile as like. Nor was he willing to tell Hizashi his plans to Bond with Teris; fully aware the Hybrid would tell her and Teris wasn’t ready to hear it. Instead, Kai said. “I want to see Teris happy and think she deserves the best, same as you. More than that I can and will give her those things and more.”

Hizashi wasn’t sure how he felt about Kai liking Teris. Sure he had suspected it. And with the way Teris talked, he could tell she had a bit of a crush on Kai in return. But he had seen Teris and Shouta together. They could be so perfect if only they stopped being so stupid. Still, it was Teris’ life. If she chose to be with Kai either for friendly release or as a companion, Hizashi would support her. So long as Kai was a good guy. And accepting Kai’s invitation to dinner was just the chance Hizashi needed to decide if Kai was a good guy.

Thinking a short apology to Shouta, Hizashi smiled. “Thanks for the invite. I’d love to go.”

“Good. I’ll see you and Teris at six.” Kai turned away, pleased with the exchange. Distasteful as it would be having a filthy Hybrid in his Ilca dorm, he was well aware what Hizashi meant to Teris. Winning Hizashi over would only help speed Teris’ sense of ease and comfort which would quicken her acceptance of their eventually mating.

12.2

Shouta glanced at the window gauging the passage of time. It had been nearly an hour but Teris’ interview felt like it had gone on much longer. Seated beside her, Shouta hoped the questioning was near its end. That was until he remembered what awaited her after. Sharp eyes looked over the five visiting Council Elders seated at the table before them. He wondered which Elder would be doing Teris’ inspection. Much as he hoped it would be His Purple Highness, Shouta wasn’t holding his breath. He was never that lucky.

Along with the five visiting Council members was Elder Yagi. Also a member of the Council, the Talos was acting more as host for these proceedings than anything else. At the end of the long table was Director Nedzu and Arbitrator Todoroki Enji, who were there more as witnesses to the interview and hadn’t said a word unless direct questions were asked of them.

Facing the line of Council members felt more like facing a firing squad. Though few questions were asked of him, Shouta couldn’t shake the invading memories of his own interview. The fear his younger self had felt got the best of him twice already. Making his heart hammer till the rush of blood drummed in his ears drowning everything else out.

“Tell us, Aizawa. Has Teris shown any hinting of her true form? Scales? Feathers? Fur?” Destro asked.

“No.” Shouta lied without pause or regret.

“Why don’t you speak plainly and just ask if she’s shown sign of being a Griffon, Dragon, or Sphinx?” Ryuko asked the Basilisk.

Eyes on Shouta, Destro prodded. “Well? Has she?”

“No.” Shouta said.

“Having once served the Dragons and raised one myself. I can say with certainty that our young Foundling here is not a Dragon.” Ryuu said.

“Nor is she a Sphinx.” His Purple Highness put in.

“And what about a Griffon?” Destro questioned.

Shouta’s fingers twitched, eyes on some distant detail in apparent disinterest.

His Purple Highness looked at Destro. The Basilisk’s might’ve served the Dragons during the Dragon-Griffon war. But Destro had become leader of the species after the Fall of Crowns. Whether it was because Destro had been leader for only 233yrs and felt the need to prove himself. Or because the Basilisk truly held such beliefs. Destro had been the most vocal Council member when Shouta and Kai faced the Elders. He vehemently argued the then young Sphinx and Dragon should be put to death for the sake of continued peace.

“The Griffon’s are dead. A lost species.” Mera said, wishing for the interview to end so he could go to his rooms and sleep.

“So were the Sphinx's and Dragons until Ryuu and His Purple Highness found and saw different.” Ryuko said. The Amphiteres might’ve served the Dragons during the war. But Ryuko liked to think she and her species had lost their servant mental to the Dragons; while holding no animosity against Kai for his species past deeds. “What’s to say Elder Yagi hasn’t done the same?”

Yagi coughed. The Talos’ long ago injury that was slowly killing him making him cough blood into a handkerchief.

“May I remind you, Yagi didn’t find Teris. She was found in earth and brought to Oblvi by a Derrick. You can hardly fault Yagi for that. Or did you young ones forget Traverseen Hall was build near one of the only two physical gateways connecting Oblvi to earth?” His Purple Highness asked.

Ryuko didn’t mind being called a young one. When one had lived as long as His Purple Highness, everyone was young. Still, she didn’t like her intelligence being called into question. “I’m aware.”

“So why question if Yagi’s done the same? Surely you’re aware any Foundlings or issues coming through either gateway are handled by the area Elder. Yagi just happened be unfortunate Teris was brought through the gateway here. It’s not as if he didn’t inform the rest of us immediately.” His Purple Highness said.

“Unlike some.” Destro remarked.

“I informed the Council of my finding Shouta as soon as I was able.” The Dryad King said.

“After you unspelled him.” Destro said.

“I’m flattered you think my physique strong enough to carry a stoned Sphinx through an untamed forest and back home.” His Purple Highness sarcastically flirted. “It’s not as if I secretly hatched a Dragon egg and raised the youngling for several years before informing the other Elders.”

Ryuu frowned at the Dryad. “Your species served the Griffons during the war.”

“And yours served the Dragons. Save for the Sphinx's, there isn’t a species of Fourth that wasn’t guilty of choosing a side. And every single one of us here helped hunt the Sphinx's down for it during the war.” His Purple Highness said.

“Is that why you unspelled the Sphinx? Out of some sense of guilt?” Destro asked.

“This is an interview about the Foundling. Can we please stay on target and get this over with?” Mera murmured, tired eyes slipping closed.

Looking at His Purple Highness, Ryuu went on. “You were quite high up the ranks, if I remember. A close and trusted friend of the Griffon King.”

“That was a long time ago.” His Purple Highness said.

“But surely you remember well enough what the Griffon species smells like. All we’re looking for is some assurance Teris isn’t one.” Ryuu said.

Shouta's eyes lifted to his mentor. Air catching in his lungs he force himself to breathe.

Everyone at the long table, seated across from Shouta and Teris, turned to the Dryad King. Destro and Ryuu leaned forward to get a better look at the Fourth.

His Purple Highness stared at Ryuu. There was a toying glint in the Tengu’s challenging gaze. With a blink His Purple Highness realized Ryuu somehow knew Teris was a Griffon. How? And why wasn’t he outing her? Was Ryuu setting him up to deny Teris was Griffon in attempt to claim he was a sympathizer to the fallen crowns and traitor to the Council?

“Well?” Mera pressed, eager to be done.

“Teris’ hereditary scent smells like no Griffon I’ve ever smelled.” His Purple Highness truthfully said.

Ryuu’s shimmering eyes smiled at the Dryad King. His Purple Highness expected a follow up question to try and ensnare him.

Instead Ryuu blocked further questions before anyone could ask them. “Well, I’m satisfied. If no one has anything further? Good.”

Mera was already standing and gathering his papers. “In that case. We’re done. Director Nedzu, thank you for the use of the room. Thank you everyone for your time.”

“And her inspection?” Destro looked after the already departing Mera.

“Happening in the next room over.” Mera said with wave and a yawn.

Mera gone, Ryuko looked at the fellow Elders. “So who’s doing it?”

Shouta's shoulders sunk. There went his hope Teris would be inspected by the sole woman in the group.

Teris was so relieved the interview was over she didn’t hear the name of the Fourth inspecting her. She felt Shouta tense beside her.

Lips hidden by his capture weapon, Shouta attempted to assure the both of them. “It’ll be alright.”

Teris barely heard Shouta’s murmur. His deep timber a comforting balm while his words set her back on edge. What had she missed? Who was doing the inspection?

Getting to his feet, Shouta turned and held a hand out to her. “Just keep the bracelet on. Understand?”

Teris nodded. Her eyes lowered to Shouta's upturned hand.

For a second Shouta thought she wouldn’t take it. He silently cursed himself for the unthought action. But then Teris’ warm hand nestled in his. Shouta's nerves ignited in delight. His fingers curled around hers. He pulled her to her feet and didn’t let go. Turning around he led her out the room and down the hall to the next door.

Teris rushed to keep up with Shouta's longer stride. Grateful when he stopped, she faced him, breathing hard.

“Out of breath from a short trek. We should train more.” Shouta murmured.

Teris weakling tried to pulled her hand out of his. “I know you’re an ass. But you’re just saying that to irk and take my mind off things.”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

Shouta stepped to her, hand letting go of hers to wrap around her waist. “How about now?”

Teris’ face heated. The Sphinx wasn’t playing fair. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Shouta hummed.

Teris shivered, feeling the deep vibration of his chest.

Shouta's other hand slinked up her arm. “Should I up my game?”

“Are you capable of it?”

Shouta chuckled, lowly. “Oh, Kitten. I’m getting up right now.”

He held her tighter. His hardening length prodding her pelvis. Teris sucked in a breath. Her legs squeezed together, hips dancing.

Shouta bit back a groan. There had been something he wanted to tell her. Something important. But he couldn’t think with her rubbing against him. The smell and warmth of her overwhelmed in the best of ways, drowning everything else out. “Keep the bracelet on.”

“You already said that.” Teris breathed.

Shouta swallowed, trying to remember what he wanted to say. His head began to dip, eyes focused on her tantalizing lips. Teris’ head lifted, tilting ever so slightly.

The door behind her opened. Shouta's head jerked up. Teris turned. Eyes widening, she pressed back into Shouta.

Remembering what he wanted to say Shouta whispered into the back of her head. “Whatever the reason, if it becomes too much. Leave. I’ll be waiting out here and will deal with whatever may come.”

Teris looked back at him. She knew Shouta, like Kai, was watched by the Council. But until today she hadn’t realized the Council's goodwill still determined their continued existence. If Shouta went against the Council…

“Are you ready?” A male voice asked.

Shouta looked at the man, fighting a low growl. How the hell was the Anzu preforming the inspection? He wasn’t an Elder. He merely worked for the Council.

Straightening her back, Teris turned and met Hawks’ gold eyes. Shouta felt a wave a pride at the way she fearlessly faced the Anzu.

Hawks watched Teris step to him. Holding her breath, she passed him and entered the room. Hawks’ eyes flicked to Shouta. He smiled at the Sphinx. Shouta's lip twitched, battling a snarl. The Anzu cocked his head at Shouta's unaffected stare.

“Feel free to go about your day. This may take a while. I plan on being exceedingly thorough.” Hawks goaded.

Shouta's hands balled into fists in his pockets. Claws formed and embedded in his palms.

Hawks’ eyes narrowed a fraction at the non-reaction. He smiled crookedly and shrugged. “Or stay and use your imagination.”

It took every ounce of restraint Shouta had not to bust down the door as soon as it snapped shut. The Elders exited the interview room drawing his attention.

While the others filed off in the opposite direction, His Purple Highness made his was to Shouta.

The tension in Shouta's shoulders eased. Annoying as His Purple Highness could be, the Dryad had been something of a parental figure. Well, more like the embarrassing Uncle that made open innuendos in polite conversation and forgot children were around. Still, His Purple Highness had done more than unspell him and argue for his life. He had given Shouta a home. The beginnings of a new pack to help ease the pain of the one he’d lost.

The Dryad King smiled warmly. “That interview couldn’t have been easy for you. You did well.”

“It was Teris’ interview.” Shouta said.

“She did well too.”

“She did.” Shouta agreed.

“You should tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“That she did well.” His Purple Highness said.

Thinking the too proud Griffon likely thought she did well in everything she did, Shouta huffed. “She already knows.”

As he spoke, the Dryad added, voice mixing with the Sphinx. “And that you love her.”

Shouta looked at the Fourth and blinked. “What?”

“What?” His Purple Highness echoed.

Shouta's eyes narrowed at the Dryad’s overly innocent expression.

Certain Shouta had heard him, His Purple Highness went on. “Still, her interview had to have brought back memories of your own.”

“Maybe a bit.” Shouta begrudgingly admitted.

“I remember the day I found you hidden in a crevice deep inside that mountain cave.” His Purple Highness didn’t speak of the cave-ins, rubble, or multiple bones that had once been Shouta's home and pack. “Curled up and put to stone, you looked so tiny and helpless. It was clear you had been spelled not just for protection, but out of a great love and sense of hope. Even being put in hibernation during what had surely been a terrifying time, you looked peaceful holding that--”

Shouta's eyebrows furrowed. He had been holding something? What? He didn’t remember holding anything.

His Purple Highness chuckled, trying to cover and divert from the slip. He would tell Shouta about and give him the Griffon feather he’d found him with. But not now. It was far too dangerous for both Shouta and Teris. “You were a dirty mess but still one of the most beautiful and precious things I’ve seen in my life.”

Shouta’s scowled with an embarrassed blush. He ducked into his capture weapon trying to hide his flushed cheeks. Grateful his hair covered his warming ears.

“You’re getting sentimental in your old age.” Shouta muttered dryly.

“Deciding what to do with you was one of the hardest and easiest things I’ve done in my existence.” Thinking again of Teris’ feather clutched in Shouta's small hand, His Purple Highness said. “As soon as I unspelled you I thought I’d regret it. But I never did. Not even when faced with the fear and anger of my fellow Council Elders. Even now, after everything. I don’t regret it.”

“You mean after I’ve grown into a gruff grouch?” Shouta said with a toothy smile most found creepy.

“Well… Now that you mention it…”

The two chuckled. Shouta's low and short. His Purple Highness’ light and long.

“I’m almost sorry you’re leaving tomorrow.” Shouta said.

“Well, now that you mention it.” The Dryad grinned.

Shouta's expression darkened. “I said almost.”

“A King has duties to his people, Shouta. There’s a Harvest Moon tomorrow.”

Shouta cursed. With everything going on, he’d forgotten.

Oblvi had four Harvest Moons a year. One for each season. While most species only celebrated one Harvest Moon. Many elementals and species carrying a tie to the land celebrated all four. The fall Harvest Moon would be celebrated with bonfires and dancing. And of course release.

Many revelers would attend in their true form. It’s why humans took to wearing masks on the day. To appear like the ‘evil spirits’ they saw and not be set upon. But that was a long time ago. Thankfully travel to earth was now limited and illegal without proper pass. Though their were occasionally those that snuck through.

“You should come. You could use some fun.” His Purple Highness said.

“Walking around a forest full of loud, excited Fourth's is hardly what I call fun.” Shouta remarked.

“Hizashi is half High Elf.”

Shouta cursed again. High Elf’s were connected to the land. Of course Hizashi would want to and should participate. The celebration was more than just a festival. It had a physical effect on the Fourth's linked to nature.

“Teris should attend too.” His Purple Highness said.

“No.” Shouta's heckles rose at the thought of Teris accepting some revelers invitation to participate in the orgy known as the Sowing.

“I understand that Kai is instructing her. But as her Ilca leader you should be taking part in her learning.”

Shouta's lip twitched, biting back a snarl. Mind still on the Sowing, he imagined all the ways Kai was instructing her. It certainly didn’t help that Teris had returned yesterday smelling of sex and Kai.

“Bring your Ilca and just attend for the tamer beginning festivities.” His Purple Highness said. “Think of it as a lesson for Teris, and way to support Hizashi.”

Though he had denied His Purple Highness in the past, Shouta didn’t like to. He owed the Dryad. Even now His Purple Highness looked out for him. The least he could do was suffer an hour or two at the Harvest Moon Festival.

“Fine.” Shouta growled.

12.3

“Alone again.” Hawks smiled, seductively.

Trying to hide her unease Teris blustered. “If you kiss me again I’ll kill you.”

“I’m hurt. Like that lip you bit when I kissed you. I’m nothing if not professional, Teris. Now undress.”

“What!” Teris shrunk back clutching the neck of her tank top. She wished she’d worn more covering clothes.

“It’s an inspection. What’d you think I’d be looking over? Your resume?”

Teris swallowed. Her show of fear was giving him too much power. The Anzu’s toying smile and dancing eyes told of his enjoyment at her discomfort. Lowering her hand she met his shimmering gold eyes.

Hawks’ eyes narrowed. Anger and distress often caused a small show of a Fourth's true form. It’s probably why the Council Leader decided he would perform Teris’ inspection. Because he was good at playing with emotions and getting under peoples skin. But if Teris was going to bury her unease thus denying the opportunity of some display of her true form, then he had no other choice but to go through with the inspection. Not that he minded.

Teris looked Hawks over in judging distaste. “So are the Anzu some newly recognized species? I thought Hybrid’s were the only ones incapable of perfect human form.”

“Wow! Do you speak to Hizashi with that mouth?”

Teris grimaced. She really didn’t care. But given how much Kai made of it, thought it would be a sore spot to needle Hawks with.

“My species is a new old.” Hawks said, conversationally.

“A what?”

“Not new. Not old. And definitely not ancient. The wings and eye markings a show.” Hawks said of himself.

“Show of what?” Teris asked.

“You can put on that robe.” Hawks nodded to a covering hanging off the back of a chair.

“Show of what?” Teris pressed.

“Do you really wanna draw this out? Aizawa’s probably stayed standing outside. Waiting. Wondering.”

Teris lifted her chin. “I just want my question answered. Show of what?”

Hawks smirked. Proud. Stubborn. Entitled. He ticked the traits off in his head for later scrutiny. “Undress.”

“Turn around.”

Hawks’ smile grew. “I’m nothing if not a gentleman.”

Teris huffed. Hawks slowly turned away. She took a tentative step to the chair. Hawks looked over his shoulder making Teris pause.

“Just don’t go stabbing me in the back.”

“I’ll do more than that if you look back again.” Teris snarled.

“Ooo. Promise!” Hawks enthused. His wings opened and lifted creating a sort of screen between them that put Teris at ease.

Teris pulled off the tank top and hastily put on the robe. Her skin prickled at the touch of the cool silken fabric. It was shorter than she would've liked. Coming to just above her mid-thigh. But at least she wasn’t left in just her underwear. Not trusting Hawks, Teris turned away undoing her belt and pants.

Red feathers parted ever so slightly, a single gold eye peeking through. Hawks observed Teris’ movements more than her undressing. There were moments where she was fluid and graceful; like a cat. And others that reminded him of himself when agitated; quick and staccato. Bird like.

Back turned to the Anzu, Teris bent and pulled off her pants. Straightening, she felt a presence behind her and spun around. When had Hawks moved?

“Shall we begin?” Before Teris could respond, Hawks dropped into a squat in front of her.

Suddenly Hawks wrapped a hand around the back of her ankle and lifted her leg. Teris squeaked. Her body jerked, toes curling. Arms stretched out trying to help balance. She wobbled for a second but quickly steadied herself.

Hawks noted her reactive timing. And how she didn’t need the nearby chair. Though there was still no physical display of her true form.

“What the hell!” Teris squawked.

Interesting. While most voices took on a higher pitch when startled. There was a melodic chirp to Teris’ voice.

“Just checking your reflexes.” Hawks sung, Teris’ chirp bringing out the beastly bird in him. He set down her leg, hand and eyes running up the smooth flesh.

Teris shivered at the touch. When he got to her mid-thigh she stepped away.

Hawks met her glare with a smile. “I guess it would be rude to go any further without first buying you dinner. Other than Kai have you sought release with anyone else?”

“I’ve already done my interview.”

“So that’s a no.” Hawks declared. He got to his feet. “Since I’m staying on at Traverseen Hall for a while. Feel free to seek me out if you tire of Kai. Or just want some variety.”

“That’s never gonna happen.”

“I make it a point to never say never. Extend your arm.”

Teris did so. Allowing Hawks to push the sleeve of her robe up. He rotated her arm, hand and eyes examining the same way he had her leg. His fingers skimmed over the bracelet Shouta had given her. Teris tensed.

Hawks’ eyes narrowed and lifted taking in every minute expression. His fingers trailed down her palm, opening up her hand. Head lowering to the pulse point of her wrist, he breathed deeply. Her hereditary scent was definitely less distinct than it had been yesterday. And there was a muddled something to it that hadn’t been there before.

While it didn’t matter to him since he’d been unable to recognize her species scent. He wondered if any of the Council Elders would've been able to tell what she was if not for the obscuring difference.

His eyes focused on the bracelet she wore. The bracelet that hadn’t been on her wrist yesterday when her species scent was clear and distinctive. He wondered who gave it to her. Aizawa was the obvious choice since she hadn’t had it when she’d come from Kai, smelling of sex and the Dragon. Why would Kai want to muddle her species scent anyway? Then again, why would Shouta?

A talon sprung from his nail-bed, pricking the pad of Teris’ finger. Teris’ hand jerked back. She licked the small puncture. Hawks marked her treatment of the wound. The list of possible species she could be narrowed by small degrees.

“Take off the robe.”

Teris bared her teethed. “No.”

Hawks met her challenging glare with a mask of stern command.

“Why’d you give me the thing if you were gonna make me take it off?” Teris asked. “Trying to lure me into false comfort? Or do you just like toying with people?”

Like toying with people? Hawks thought. No. But I’m good at it. Trained at it. Along with a host of other things. Hawks’ mask of determination melted into one of mock sympathy. “What the Council giveth the Council can easily taketh away.”

Teris’ eyes widened thinking of Shouta and Kai’s lives. At Hawks’ smirk, her expression hardened. “You’re not the Council.”

“You’re right. But I am working for them. We all must obey and dance to the Council's tune if we wish to keep our lives and freedom. Now take off the robe.”

Teris paused. Caught between fearful compliance and proud defiance.

Seeing her hesitance, Hawks took pity and cajoled. “I told you. I’m nothing if not professional.”

“You’ve been far from professional.”

“It’s just a job, Little Bird.”

“Names like that make it seem more than a job.” Teris glared.

“Have you never enjoyed a job?” Hawks questioned. He both hated and loved this one. Teris was fun. The puzzle of figuring out what she was a unique challenge. Only trouble he had with the task was Teris was new to this world. She wasn’t like the others he’d spied on and lured into traps in the past. She was truly innocent and unprepared for the ways Oblvi worked and was run. And he had to pray on that innocence to get his answers.

It’s just a job, Hawks comforted himself. If he didn’t do it the Council Leader would send someone else, and he’d be ruined. Never mind what his Secret Boss who ordered him to watch Teris would do.

Suddenly Hawks was in her face. Teris pulled her head back only to have Hawks grab under her jaw, fingers pinching in her cheeks. He pulled her forward. Their noses almost touching. Hawks’ eyes darted over her face. His hair tickled her forehead.

Teris’ breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened, unfocusing. The action was reminiscent of the way the scarred man use to grab and examine her, spitting terrifying words in her face.

Hawks’ wings sagged. No sign of her true form. Releasing her, he stepped back. “Robe off. Now.”

Heart hammering in her chest Teris untied the fabric belt with trembling hands. She tried to steady her breathing, telling herself the scarred man wasn’t here. He and his blue flames couldn’t hurt her.

The robe slipped from her shoulders. Hawks watched it puddled on the floor at her feet. Taking a fortifying breath, he schooled his features and lifted his eyes. Teris’ hips turned to the side. She crossed her arms shielding her bra covered breasts. The action squeezed her tits together enhancing her enticing cleavage.

Stay on target, Hawks told himself. This is a job. Not a pleasure. Yeah, but with a sight like that it kinda makes it a bit of both, he argued with himself. She doesn’t want you and there’s a Sphinx waiting outside that’ll tear you apart if you step out of line, he reminded.

Hawks slowly circled her. Booted feet deafening in the silence. Teris shivered. Though she couldn’t say if it was from the chill or Hawks’ roving gaze. She felt him stop behind her and bit her lip, fighting the urge to look back at him.

Fingers plucked the waistband of her panties. Teris spun around.

“Just checking for a tail.” Hawks smiled, crookedly. His eyes sharpened. Still no sign of her true form.

“Are we done?”

“Almost. Just wanna try one more thing.”

“Try for what?” Teris scowled. She yelped and turned, something tickling the back of her leg. It was one of Hawks’ feathers.

Hawks stepped to her. With a practiced snap of the bra strap he had her bra unhooked.

One arm clutched to her chest, Teris spun back around, other hand lifted. Hawks had but a moment to see the mild display. But a moment was all he needed. In place of peach fuzz there were tiny quills gracing Teris’ cheeks.

Her hand connected. The slap sharp and loud. Hawks’ head wrenched to the side. He held his throbbing cheek. The stinging skin hot under the palm of his hand.

Teris bent, free hand grabbing the robe. She grasped the fabric to her. “Out! This so called inspection is finished. We’re done.”

Feather re-attaching to his wing, Hawks turned to the door. The inspection might be done. But he was far from finished.

***This fic will have a LOT more world building than my others. Please feel free to comment or send me an ask if you have any questions.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special thank you to those who have left comments and/or reblogged. They really mean a lot.

Special thank you to @inorganicone2230 who knows of my love for the mythic and encouraged me to start this fic without stressing about the other two I’ve got going. Your friendship means the world to me.

#aizawa shouta #kai chisaki #yamada hizashi #His Purple Highness #bnha #lost song

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rumbelleshowdown · 5 years ago

Photo

Author: froggedstitches

Prompt: Positions; every day the same.

Group: B

The Liberation of Change

No matter how life changed for everyone else, it seemed every day was the same for Belle. The sameness wore on her. She was so tired. No matter what she did, how she rested, she felt an exhaustion settling into her bones.

Though it was mainly for the comfort, she sat with one of the penny serials that Mr. Gold left for her open on her lap. Even her favorite books had somehow lost their excitement. She had not seen a face that didn’t belong to her husband or the staff in weeks, and neither would provide her with conversation. Gaston because he was Gaston. The staff because it turned out that her husband had given them instructions to interact with her in only the most professional of ways. God, she missed the staff from her father’s house.

Frustrated with the four walls of her bedroom, she hit upon the idea to go down to the morning room. Perhaps light and green things would perk her soul up a bit. Rolling up the serial, she tucked it into her pocket.

Belle ran her fingers through the fern just inside the morning room door before going over to the settee. Her hand rested on her skirts, fingers curled over the uncoiling penny serial hidden inside, and she conjured memories of her childhood.

Mr. Gold had been a common visitor to her father’s estate, the expansive and beautiful grounds at the time providing him with almost inexhaustible backgrounds to incorporate into his paintings. He was known as terribly temperamental and unsociable, but Nathaniel Gold had never been anything save gentle and kind to her. She had the fondest memories of following him around as a child, watching with rapt attention while he sketched out plans. If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the joy of standing quietly beside him with her hands laced together behind her back while she watched him paint.

For a moment, she truly thought his voice was a part of her daydream. She shook off memory enough to convince herself that Mr. Gold was indeed there, as though wishing had brought it to pass.

It didn’t sit well with her that she had to essentially sneak across to the parlor. Belle loathed being relegated to listening at doorways, but her husband dealt her no small amount of misery after she joined the conversation during Mr. Gold’s last visit. She didn’t want to repeat it just yet.

Gaston made the indecisive groaning sound that so badly got on her nerves. “I’m in the midst of a critique. Traipsing out to the countryside right now-”

A stay in the country! And her husband had a mind to reject the invitation. Belle had to consciously restrain herself from stamping her foot.

“Mrs. Drake asked that I extend an informal invitation specifically to your and your wife,” Mr. Gold cut in.

“Specifically?” her husband replied after a moment.

“By name,” Mr. Gold confirmed. “She intends to remain for a fortnight, at least, to take in the country air. You and your wife have been asked to remain as long as you wish.”

Gaston wasn’t enthused about the invitation until he heard that Mrs. Drake - Mr. Gold’s primary patron - would be there, as well. He had been trying to wheedle her into patroning him for years. When her husband agreed for them both to join the retreat, her stomach flipped with the thrill of it.

She enjoyed long carriage rides. A good thing, that. The ride from the LeGume estate to the Drake country house took the entire morning.

New scenery, the prospect of conversing with people, not being as taken for granted as a piece of furniture - it was difficult to stem her excitement. Belle felt something akin to alive for the first time in months.

When they’d had time to recover from travel, Mrs. Drake’s cook had luncheon prepared. Food that didn’t turn to ashes on her tongue! Gaston and Mr. Gold borderline squabbled their opinions back and forth, while she could have composed an ode to the veal cutlets.

“Mr. LeGume,” their host began. “I have it at trustworthy rumor that your current project concentrates upon the Neoclassical.”

“A work well under progress,” he said proudly, puffing up.

“I wonder… My second husband left me with an Ingres that I believe the public has seen very little of. Would you care to have a look? Perhaps it might add some intrigue to your new volume,” she suggested.

“I would!” Gaston practically shouted, never one to hold back, himself.

Mrs. Drake gave a nod of satisfaction. “Let me show you. You are all welcome to view, if you like.”

She led them through a short hallway and into a room filled with art. Mrs. Drake showed her small party down to a large nude of a woman who could have been made of marble, for all the human detail left out of her flesh. It was her husband’s preferred style for depicting feminine subjects.

Belle stepped away, determined that she would enjoy more apart from him. After a little while left alone, a soft clearing of throat came from behind her. She found Mr. Gold stood near.

“If you don’t find yourself too travel wearied, I wondered if you would mind posing for me?” he asked quietly, a hopeful smile tilting one side of his mouth.

Belle looked to her husband. The very idea of posing for Mr. Gold made her happier than anything she could remember.

“I would,” she told him. “Very much so. Pardon me?”

She loathed asking permission, but if she didn’t, Gaston was liable to have a tantrum later. She went to him where he stood with Mrs. Drake.

“Gaston,” she said to gain his attention. He didn’t look. “I’ve been invited to pose for Mr. Gold.”

With an irritated expression shot over his shoulder, he snapped at her. “Go on with you, then. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Mrs. Drake gave him a bit of a funny look. “I believe I might go along. I could use a bit of outdoors.”

Turning, Belle found Mr. Gold looking on, and she gave him a nod that was perhaps more excited than she should have allowed.

There was a small waterfall on the property, Mr. Gold explained, that he wished to inspire the background for his first painting of the series. He carried his easel and Belle carried the box with his supplies, and a houseman followed carrying his canvas and stool. Mrs. Drake walked a short way behind, with a maid carrying her blanket and needlework basket. Their short journey again invoked memories of following him around her father’s estate.

Mr. Gold was quick to arrange his working set-up. “Will you stand there? Not too near the bank, but in front of the falls?”

Plucking a pencil from among his paintbrushes, he began to sketch right onto the canvas. Belle placed herself where he requested. When Mr. Gold’s eyes were on her, she didn’t feel disgusting as she did when her husband looked at her.

“Am I to be Medusa?” she inquired, grinning.

He gave her a look of teasing doubt. “And here I figured upon Sphinx.”

“I’m not that mysterious, Mr. Gold.”

“I might disagree. However, this painting is to be of Echidna.”

“I quite like that,” Belle said with a nod. “Lady monster, mother of monsters.”

Mr. Gold’s attention lingered on her. “Lift your hands, please?”

She did, but he shook his head, so she raised them higher.

“Open your fingers,” he told her. “Wider arms, as if you were embracing a great pillar.”

Belle tried her best, but had she known what he would do, she might have failed more quickly. He took his cane and left his canvas to approach her. Lifting his hand, he stopped before it met her own.

“May I?” he asked, and she nodded.

His warm hand braced the back of hers. He brought her hand higher, opening her arms more widely.

“There you go, just so,” Mr. Gold said.

Belle felt his breath on her cheek. The afternoon sun caught in the slivers of gray in his hair, and when he looked at her, his eyes were honey-amber rather than the near black they seemed in dimmer light. the urge to kiss him prickled behind her breastbone.

She could, she thought, looking to Mrs. Drake, who had already fallen asleep sitting against the silver birch nearby. The maid and houseman were down the stream a ways. She could so easily have closed the small space between herself and Mr. Gold for a kiss.

“Are we on to posing already?” Mrs. Drake asked, apparently not as asleep as she appeared.

Mr. Gold startled as though he woke, himself. With a look of apology that Belle felt unnecessary and a brief stumble on a root in the grass, he returned to his canvas.

#rumbelle showdown 2020 #Round Two entry #author: froggedstitches #rumbelle fic

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courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

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Hallow : ch xx - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch xx / ?? - In which truths are finally revealed.

Twisting the strange heaviness that was Arthur's engagement ring around her finger, Emma walked slowly down the corridors with a line of attendants behind her. The walk was stop and go, breathing as troubled as her mind as she tried to contemplate Killian's transgressions.

How long had he been plotting if he managed to do this to her? The illness was something worthy of her hatred, but she could not bring herself to feel any anger when she remembered the way he had looked at her. His eyes had been so clear, the plea in them bright, sun catching ocean waves through fog. He had begged her to listen, and why would he stay if he had the dagger shard in hand? Surely he wouldn't take her life after everything they had gone through together. His revenge on her parents and her had fallen away… hadn't it?

The tea she had earlier on Arthur's insistence twisted in her stomach painfully, her breath catching. Her lungs constricted, burning with effort, heart deafening in her ears until she was spinning, twirling round.

"Mmm. Well," Killian smirked, pulling her close, bodies pressed together far more intimately than was required of a proper waltz. "Not that I don't love to hear the sad stories of the poor princess -"

"Oh, come on -" Emma hissed, rolling her eyes and trying to pull away.

" - but I would never deny you a chance to actually be kept on your toes." He dipped her low, humming something she could not discern, something older and much more jaunty. Spinning her with expertise across the small space, Emma fell into his lead if you could call it that. He didn't follow one style of step, and any stiffness was met with a complicated step she had to focus on, until she was laughing at the ridiculous over exaggerated styles he forced her to partner with.

Both Killian and her were out of breath when he threw her into a wild spin, bringing her in close to intertwine her fingers with his. Emma breathlessly giggled, closing her eyes to clear the dizziness away, her eyes shooting open in surprise when she leaned forward and their foreheads met.

Emma woke, sitting up and finding herself alone in a part of the castle she didn't recognize, standing with shaky confusion.

"Hello?" she called out, almost slipping on a strange blue sparkling residue that surrounded the area where she had woken. "What in the -"

"Princess, I'm sorry, I had no choice," Ali rounded a corner checking behind himself as her brows furrowed. "You need to hide; they're coming, Hades convinced them not to wait, and I can't control it very well - the call, the pull is too strong."

Ali doubled over, hissing lowly, and Emma stepped toward him with hesitation. "Ali? What is wrong? Are you alright?"

"Emma, Arthur's not who you think he is." Ali pulled her aside, checking the space for any signs of life. He lowered his voice further. "Ask him about his heartache, and strife. He - Emma, no matter what he tries to charm you with, do not listen."

"But he's -"

"I can't right now. They're coming, I have to -" He groaned, glowing a faint blue.

"Ali, what is going on?" Emma reached for him, his sharp turn causing her to fall back. His eyes glowed a bright burning blue. "What are you!?"

"I don't have time for this!" Ali yelled before disappearing in a puff of blue smoke.

Emma stood up carefully, confused as she looked around. Entering the garden, hands grabbed her from behind, sweeping her off her feet.

"Put me down!"

"Princess, what happened? Are you alright?" Arthur said, as she flailed in his grasp. "It's okay. I'm sorry for startling you, I -"

"I don't know what is happening, I don't know what is going on!" Emma pulled free, standing shakily. "He turned blue, and he said, he said -"

Holding her arm to steady her, Arthur tried soothing her, cooing softly. "Emma, you're not making sense, what are you talking about? Who said -"

"You - He said you have heartache and strife?" Arthur stiffened, gripping her arm tightly. She winced, whimpering slightly until it turned into a cough. He let her go and she fell back, leaning against the wall. "What does that mean, Arthur? I know you were married, I know your wife is gone, but…"

"It's nothing, darling. Really." He smiled, but even if she was without the gift of the Sphinx to know truths, Emma could feel the lie in his voice. "Come and lay down in your quarters. I've made you some more tea, and I'll help you get comfortable -"

"I need to get to Jasmine; there's something wrong here. You're - You're not telling me the truth." Arthur's eyes went cold, before he softly smiled and approached.

"My sweet flower, I have been avoiding the topic for fear of bruising your delicate petals. It's not a pleasant story." He swallowed hard, with a sigh. "Let me walk you back through the corridor. I'll tell you as we go, sound good?"

"I don't think I -" Emma tried, but he was gripping her elbow tightly, pulling her through the halls.

"I was very much in love with the woman I married. My Guinevere." He sighed, Emma trying to keep herself from falling at the pace he set. His grip was tight as he dragged her, weak noises of protest going unheard. "She didn't believe in me, or my dreams of what our kingdom could be. She wanted me to be proud of what we had, to live in the past relying on the strength of our people, not the strength of our steel. I tried to change her mind, but I know now that it was fruitless."

Emma pulled away, falling to the floor as she gasped for air. She stared hard at him, trying to will away the prickling fear that gripped her as his words rang with half truths.

"Come on now, up you get blossom," he coaxed lightly, his sharp yank of her wrist fiercely violent in comparison. She yelped and his eyes darkened, narrowing dangerously. "This would have been much easier if you had drank more of the poppy flower I brewed, I didn't want to be this rough you know -"

"Stop! Please -"

"You women are so frustrating! You don't know what is good for you, come along." Emma attempted to scoot away again, trying to understand what he was saying. The tea in her stomach churned, the minimal amount still filling her with nausea at his strange comment. Poppy flower rang a bell in her mind, the red or orange blooms pulled apart by Regina in one of her lessons. What had they been making? "You're just like Guinevere, pushing me to correct your mistakes."

His fingers tightened painfully around her wrist, the leer he gave as he looked down at her not befitting the Arthur she had been courting. The memory hit her like a punch to the gut. Poppies were used in sleeping potions, or to make someone drowsy and complicit. Arthur had drugged her.

"You're mad! You've forgotten yourself Arthur, it's no wonder she left you if this is how you corrected her! How dare you drug me!" Emma snapped, his mouth twisting and eyes narrowing at her words. He chuckled darkly.

"She didn't just leave me, she betrayed me, Emma. I don't take kindly to betrayal, and it was not my fault. They should have known. You should know now as well, so you," He pulled her up roughly to her feet, dragging her around a corner, "Know to listen ."

He hissed the last words, and Emma felt sweat bead on her brow, the patterned floor below their feet unfamiliar. They were nowhere near her apartments in the palace, the corridor empty of any servants.

"What -" The words caught in her throat, the question making Arthur grin as he caressed the ring on her finger with his thumb.

"What happened to her? I killed her lover - one of my best knights too, which was a shame - then I killed our daughter, which was more accident than intentional. But Guinevere, I made her watch until she had a final choice to make."

Emma wrenched away, backing up as he advanced on her.

"She could die by starvation, or fling herself from her room in the tower I locked her in." He laughed, as if he wasn't speaking madness, and Emma tried to keep upright. "By the third day she made her decision, and made the leap. It wasn't as clean as I'd hoped, but Guin always had a penchant for mess. I would hope you are cleaner, but our time together looks brief."

He seemed to frown slightly at this, but his eyes showed nothing but amusement. Emma threw the ring at him, unable to utter any words between her wheezing breaths.

"Shhh, it's okay my sweet bud. Soon enough you'll be dead, we'll blame the Dark One for it, I'll gain your kingdom in your passing along with Agrabah, and the Dark One will be our one man army as we bind him to Excalibur." Arthur grabbed her face, pressing a kiss to her temple as she tried to push him away. Killian, they were going to hurt Killian and her people, what had she done ? He chuckled lowly at her panic, her squirms to get away doing nothing. "You truly were such a prize. It's just too bad that no one could ever love you more than your station. So much power in that title, truly far too much for a desperate naive girl like you. Now, come along. We are needed elsewhere."

He tugged hard as Emma fought, touch going from rough to brutally so in an instant. She cried in desperation, his fingers threading through her hair to yank her neck back, hope becoming a distant memory as she weakened.

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The cell holding Killian was damp, the floor made of packed clay and damp sand that gave way to thick limestone blocks where manacle chains hung. Compared to the cell at the Royal Palace that had held him for what might as well have been eons, this was as flimsy as wet paper. The Darkness seemed to remind him of this on loop, but he couldn't hear it over the roar in his ears, the way Emma had looked at him from her bed like a stranger.

She looked - Gods , she had looked -

Arthur wanting to marry her so she could simply die had been so repulsively absurd until he had seen her. In the few days that had turned into a week's time, Emma had lost her coloring, her frame was skeletal, eyes sunken and chest almost concave. Wires and wards covered her, and he should have known, he should have been there by her side instead of ducking down hallways to prevent her from following. He had tried to lose her, and now he was to be successful, his heart breaking.

He couldn't break out of his cell without proving his criminality, but if he stayed, she might -

A blinding flash of blue startled and dazed him, his blinking unable to clear it from his vision at first. A man glowed before him, skin cracked like a bird shell, a bright azure light pouring from underneath. He wore a mask of twisted gray cloth and a thief's coarse linen tunic with breeches, but the eyes were unmistakable. Aladdin.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner, I had thought you would -" He approached Killian, and Killian was out of the manacles within seconds, his fist hitting hard against Aladdin's stomach.

"You piece of shit," Killian hissed lowly, Aladdin letting out a wheeze. "You triple timing, absolute piece of -"

"They're… Bandits!" Aladdin gasped out, the blue breaking through his skin more. Killian stepped back, circling him slowly, watching his movements. Arcane energy prickled in the air, small pebbles rising from the floor. "They're coming to… Kill… Arthur engaged, so Hades pushed the attack to today… They want… Kill Jasmine and take -"

"Bloody buggering hell - why would you ally with them? Was everything with Jasmine and Emma a ruse?" Killian asked, surprised how the accusation was filled with concern. "I swear to you, I won't let Emma die because you -"

"You have to hurry… I warned her, I tried… I'm being pulled, compelled, I can't - Emma's with Arthur. I can't hold on - gah -" He groaned, the glow becoming brighter, more skin sizzling away as he burned from within. "Save Emma from Arthur."

Aladdin looked up, their eyes meeting, before disappearing in a puff of blue smoke. As soon as he was gone, Killian was in movement, nothing but Emma's safety on his mind.

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The fist that came from seemingly nowhere broke Arthur's hold on her, sending her sprawling to the ground with a ringing in her ears. She could hear the sound of blows hitting flesh, but could barely lift herself to see her would be savior, if that was what they were. Then they spoke, and her heart beat in a strange uneven quick step.

"Fuck," Killian ground out, his voice rough as Arthur grunted between blows, "You, 'Mate'."

Pulling herself to her knees, Emma attempted to crawl from where the two fought. Managing to turn into a courtyard, her dress caught on a raised stepping stone, her body collapsing. Fatigue and sheer emotional exhaustion pushed her into tears, fingers digging into the dirt to pull herself forward even slightly.

Strong hands helped her up, Killian looking at her with concern she hadn't seen from him in weeks.

"Are you - he didn't hurt you did he?" he asked, and she laughed herself into a coughing fit at the ridiculous question. He seemed mollified at this, swallowing hard. "I left him in a heap. He'll never hurt you again, alright love? At least you didn't marry that monster."

Emma snorted, her raw throat burning through coughs. Finally she felt it unclench, anger flowing through her to yell at his stupid face, with his stupid consternation that was far too little, too late.

“Why do you care? Of all the times you have hurt me, belittled me, or made it clear that you despise me, why now do you care? Is he not better than Nil or leaving my family with no contingency?" Pushing him away with what little force she could, he looked surprised at her anger. Emma felt her chest constrict, but continued. "You have wasted no time making it clear that you don't want to know my plans should I die. Why now do you have the gall to say that you want a say?" Wobbling in the new space between them, she raised her chin in defiance. Killian tried to close the gap again, and she took a step back.

"I'm sorry Emma. You're right, I shouldn't - "

"Damn right you shouldn't. Damn right that you even being here still makes me feel…" She hesitated, arms wrapping around her frame. "You told me that you were leaving on Selune, and again once on your ship. What possible reason do you have to stay if but to hurt me at every turn, Killian? Why come back? You should have just gone when you were freed, and left me alone. You shouldn't be here. You caused all of this!"

He carded a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "It's not - That's not -"

"Why can't you let me go? What am I to you? Was I wrong to believe that you had any hope of redemption?" Emma tried to ignore the rasp of her voice as it broke, tears streaking hot trails down her cheeks. "Do you have any idea how much pain you have caused me?"

"You can't marry him, Emma. You can't." He reached for her, but she flinched away, his expression turning from worry to a pained hurt she wanted to slap off his face. "You couldn't do that to yourself. You know that he would have never been a good king."

"He was better than Nil!" Emma spat. "You have no right to have any say in this, Killian. I will do what I see fit, for my kingdom and my family -"

"Please, just listen -" This time when he reached out for her, she looked at him in disgust, shoving his hands away. He was a liar, playing her for a fool, his pleading and his unsettling worried stare be damned. Even if it was true, it was him - he had no right to lecture her on who was 'good'.

"I have heard enough. You have nothing of substance to say to me, and no answers to my questions!" Emma shouted.

"He's not the one from your dreams, he's working along with Aladdin, the fake prince Ali. I'm -"

Cutting him off, she spun on her heel, jabbing a finger at him in rage. "Why should I believe anything you have to say? Why should I trust you when all you have done is hurt me?"

"I never meant for this, I never wanted to harm you. Please, please love, you have to listen. I beg you, please -" A loud noise that sounded like stone against metal shook the fountain that burbled happily in the corner, smoke drifting out from somewhere deeper in the palace.

"I refuse, I refuse to listen to any more of your lies. You are the last person I would ever trust. You disgust me. How can you even stand here knowing that you haven't changed at all, and that you are the same monster?" Killian's eyes widened at her sudden proximity, his posture going rigid. His hands that had been reaching for her pulled to his sides, his breath coming out in a sharp exhale. He seemed almost nervous, the air around them suddenly stifling. Emma took another step putting them toe to toe. Shoving him proved fruitless when he barely moved from the weak push, but was satisfying as she continued yelling. "How dare you say anything to me about Arthur, how dare you try and trick me again! We were never friends, you never gave one moment or kindness without thought of yourself, we were never -"

His hands shook as he touched her shoulders, one immediately pushing back his hair in frustration as he leveled his gaze with hers. His stare was hard, intensely fixed as he seemed to fight himself. Emma raised her chin and he moved a hand to hold her face, her shiver as he cupped her cheek involuntary. His touch felt right, her heart skipping in a strange hiccup that felt so familiar and yet still foreign. "You bloody stubborn, obstinate, maddening woman. I'm not sorry for this. I won't be."

She gasped into his kiss, forgetting her anger in the way he moved his mouth against her own. It was practiced between both of them which stunned her and made her heat past feverish in seconds, anger dissolving completely as his tongue pressed further. Emma knew this touch, knew the longing that she could feel in the way they tasted each other, barely able to pull away when all common sense said to push him back. There was no doubt:

Killian was who she had been dreaming of.

"It's you, it's always been you -" A resounding crash came from the other side of the courtyard, smoke growing thicker.

"Go hide. Don't answer to anyone, and stay silent. I… I will tell you everything when you are safe."

"But -" Emma protested, still slightly dazed.

Killian grazed his lips on her knuckles, then pressed a kiss there before pulling away reluctantly. "Go."

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Emma stumbled away deeper into the courtyard, and he stood prepared to fight even without a weapon. The Darkness had succeeded in destroying his feelings for her, but destruction was not enough. Like a flower with unseen and deep roots, his feelings bloomed again simply by being around her. The Darkness howled, and he let himself howl with it, filled with anticipation of the brawl to come. The first attacker turned the corner to the hallway, then barreled headlong towards Killian with sword raised. More turned the corner as he dodged the blade, his attempts to disarm the man for his weapons futile as the sword arced in the air to land in the courtyard while the bandit battalion continued to grow around him. He managed to steal a pole staff, disabling several of them until it was hacked to bits by an axe.

He scrambled for another weapon until he froze, looking at a familiar face.

Brennan Jones stood looking at him with contempt, his club raised again as he glared. Killian stared back as his father's sneer changed to the wicked grin he had reserved for beating both he and Liam; on days when he'd fallen into the bottle. He was skinnier, unkempt and underfed, wrong in his phantom form. It didn't matter when he brought down the club again, and Killian heard his own skull shatter. A bag was placed over his head as he was dragged, his father grunting with strain.

Something shattered nearby and Killian was hit again and again, before he was pushed into a roll with a sharp kick.

"We need him alive, bosses said so. Should still be weak from all that ink crap they made."

"You can't kill him, don't worry. He was supposed to be in the dungeon, wasn't he?"

"Where's the other piece? We need -"

"It doesn't matter, they both attract the other. It's easy, and even if we don't get it, Hades doesn't care and Arthur has that sword thing."

There was a deafening crash, his captors and father yelling as Killian was pulled away. His hood was removed, light and dust hurting his unbroken eye as he looked up into Emma's face. She held a sword that she let drag in the mess of carnage she had wrought. The phantom of his father approached as she looked up, heaving with effort to take a stance. Killian watched her block the aggressive attacks in awe as she stood in his defense, wavering with every blow.

His father was going to kill her, he was going to run her through, adrenaline surging through him as he watched helplessly. Then in attack, his father lunged suddenly, fiercely growling in rage. Emma shifted her weight to let him use his power to her advantage, sending him through a thick clay urn in a clattering heap. Her knees buckled but she caught herself by leaning on the hilt of the sword, turning to smile. Killian felt a bark of laughter bubble up in his throat at her refusal to listen to anything he said, every bit of him trying to force out how he felt. Instead of listening to his gurgling whisper, Emma whistled, footfalls approaching from nearby, as servants joined her or ran past to safety.

"Emma -"

She clapped a hand over his mouth as he let out a groan, his ribs shooting pain up his nerves. Soon, Iago and Abu were helping to drag him behind a thick hedge as chaos enfolded around them from more bandits coming from every direction. Servants screamed and fought, Emma looking worse for wear with every step as she defended them with weak blocks and parries until she could no longer, collapsing into sitting. With her finally among them, Iago finished drawing something in chalk on the ground. Silence fell over them along with a thick shadow, the murky bubble of safety swallowing the assorted Fae that hid with them in its thick mass. Emma leaned against Killian, looking down at his bleeding face with remorse.

"You're going to be alright?" she asked, a hand shakily tracing where his eye socket was most certainly broken. He nodded, wincing and Emma smiled, looking as if she might cry. "I can't heal you. I'm so sorry, I wish I could. You're going to have to wait for the healers or…"

Or rely on the Darkness. The words she couldn't bring herself to say.

He swallowed hard, nodding again.

"Princess, you need to rest, you are safe in this shadow for the time being unless someone can undo Goblin runes. You were running a high fever before and -"

"Yes, Iago. I know," Emma sighed. Glancing down at him again, he could see the dark circles under her eyes clearly, and the deep hollows in her face that caught shadow themselves. "I'll rest in just a moment, I just… I have questions I need answered. I know you're hurting Killian, but try, please?"

He nodded with a grunt of pain.

"Did you mean to return the shard to me? Did you over power the Darkness?"

"Yes," he managed to grit out.

"Ali is… Whatever Ali is, he's a traitor?"

"Aye. Thief." There was blood in his brain, he could feel it, the swelling making sparks behind his eyes. "Aladdin."

Swallowing, he tried to gather his thoughts, a question burning on his tongue. "Am I… You think I'm a monster? Irredeemable?"

Emma smiled softly, her eyes wet. She looked terribly sad, all because of him, his mind falling away to the obvious answer that would come. Yes. She was sad because of his cowardice, his misdeeds. Yes, he was a monster, him and the Darkness together.

"No, Killian. You're not irredeemable when you keep saving my life. You are just…" She paused, searching for a word.

"A bloody fool?" He suggested, and her small laugh through the watery smile she directed at him made his own lips twitch upward. She stroked his hair, gently pushing strands aside.

"Did you… did you cause this?" Her voice was so small, but still so loud in his ears. Emma's hand pressed his to her chest, indicating her illness. His thumb ran along the jutting shelf of her exposed clavicle as she shuddered slightly.

The words dragged out in a slur as he tried to make them intelligible. "Don't know, but… Maybe… yes? M'sorry, love."

"I forgive you. I have this feeling, I know it wasn't you. It couldn't be you." It was raining, drops falling on his broken face. No, they were tears, Emma was crying again, openly now. He reached his hand up further with difficulty to touch her cheek, finding it was hot to the touch, her fever in full force. Gently, she pressed the wet apple of her cheek against his palm, and he wanted nothing more than to stop her from hurting because of him. "Please Killian, forgive me for everything. I'm so sorry I got sick, I'm sorry you had to be alone with the Darkness, I'm sorry I keep dreaming of you like I do. I'm sorry for all of it, I -" she choked on a sob.

"No," he groaned, and her coughing became worse. He tried to catch his thoughts, or put them coherently in a way she could understand, but thought was becoming more and more difficult. "Not accepted."

"Please -"

"Not accepted," he mumbled again. How could he accept an apology when she had done nothing wrong?

"Killian, please…" she sighed out in a strangled breath. Her coughing began anew, a servant catching her as she fell where Killian could not lift his head to see, the world spinning into nothingness.

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It was never pleasant to fall into the Darkness when issues of mortality arose, and the sinewy bits of his body had to knit themselves back together, but it was increasingly unpleasant when the Darkness was furious inside him. It seethed, caustic as it boiled over his flesh and forced his bones back into place. It tore at muscle and dug into nerve endings just to stretch the pain out, watching the squirming of its vessel.

However, Killian healed, and that was more than could be said of the princess. He had woken to healers bustling over her, a few pulling him onto a cot nearby while Jasmine barked directions hoarsely, but days had passed since the bandits had tried to stage their strange assault.

They were all in a new area of the palace, walled off from potential further attacks and better guarded. Jasmine and her team were non stop motion and action as she made sure her people were safe. The truth was evident though, that Jasmine was beside herself, even as an investigation found that the bandits hadn't taken anything of value. Killian had heard whispers from servants that 'Prince Ali' had attacked the Sultana in cold blood, but he was not willing to press his luck at broaching that subject when his worries lay elsewhere.

Foremost, his thoughts were preoccupied with Emma. He had not left her room even after her recovery, but he could not bring himself to follow through on his desires. The new space allowed for him to watch from a distance, to observe her from enough space where the temptation could be held at bay. He wanted to sit next to her bedside, to stroke her cheek, to gently push hair from her temple when it stuck as her temperature rose, to lay by her and hold her tightly. It was cowardice that held him back, however. He knew it, but the chance that she might hear him and ask what their dreams or that wonderful bloody kiss had meant during the siege caused immediate paralysis.

Emma hadn't been lucid since the attack, her fever spiking multiple times while the illness raged on, unforgiving. Mostly she called for her mother, begged for relief from flames, and occasionally he thought he heard her call for him but it was ignored. She had a close call the last evening Killian had stayed, startling him when a loud noise began to ring through the room. Healers and medical attendants had run in, throwing aside everything as they worked to fix whatever was wrong, which Killian had only found out later was her body attempting to give out. After that, he struggled to stay near her when she clearly didn't recognize anyone close to her, let alone him. The temptation to hold her was overwhelming, the Darkness rapidly switching between unbearably loud or eclipsed by the need to be there.

"Killian, a word," Jasmine said, crooking a finger towards him as she dismissed a crowd of servants. An Elven man and woman stayed behind, both wearing spectacles. Killian approached cautiously.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

Jasmine eyed him with the same wariness. "My doctors are puzzled by the princess and her illness. She's taken a turn for the worse I'm afraid. Worse still, with the bandit camp raiding our supplies, we don't have the means to keep up her treatment. We thought she might have weeks, but..."

"She's been unable to eat very much, her sleep is riddled with nightmares or waking hallucinations, her coughing seems to be caused by some sort of constricting force, but it is not anything we have experienced." The female doctor read notes off a leather-bound notebook, her voice trembling slightly. "Her magic is weak, growing weaker each time she seems to recover. It's as if there's poison in her veins."

"I'm afraid I don't know anything of importance," he managed to interject, though his mouth felt dry. He wondered why the Sultana and her small team seemed so on edge. "I've told everyone as much as I can, so I'm unsure of what more detailed information I can give -"

"They are asking you to bring up to her what her plans would be if she were to expire in my kingdom, Killian. She's spoken to me about them, but not to you. She said before that you managed to avoid the subject. With Arthur gone and possibly able to create false statements about a proposal - " Jasmine touched his shoulder and he yanked away, staring at her as if she was mad.

"She - there has to be more you can do? She's only a bit worse, not - I thought Arthur was misinformed or… But she was better, she was-" It hit him like a crushing blow, a wave that pulled you deep while simultaneously pushing the air from your lungs. "She can't be, we just - she just beat a creature Dragons could not slay, survived an attempted assassination by bandits! She was doing better, she said so! No, absolutely not. I demand to know what you are doing. She is sick and you are not doing enough! She can't be close to death, it's not possible -"

"Yes," the female doctor said simply, her dark brown eyes looking at him with sadness. "She is. I'm sorry."

"We are trying our best m'lord, but she isn't responding to anything we do any longer. We had warned her that this day was coming, and she seems to be aware, but as her second you need to finalize her wishes. If she declines at this rate for another week, three at most -"

"No." He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to breathe. "No, do something different, try something -"

"We - we have m'lord. Her Majesty has given us every bit of her power to do so -"

"Jasmine, can't you see what caused this?" Killian began to pace slightly, before turning to gesture in the direction of Emma's room. "Help her!"

"I am, Killian. I cannot see what the cause is, that is in the past. I am as desperate as you are for another vision regarding the princess. Do you believe me an unkind host with all I have granted you?"

He couldn't breathe, his fists balling as fingernails cut into his palms. "No, no, she can't die. I -"

"You should spend what time she has left with her then," the male scientist grumbled.

"What are you trying to imply mate?" Killian growled, "Because I'll -"

"I don't mean to imply, m'lord. It’s just that she begs for you when we are present, and the kitchen maids say the only time that they have seen her calm is when you are visiting. An attendant said you shared an intimate moment in the attack, that several others corroborate." The man adjusted his glasses nervously, unable to make eye contact. "Sultana, I don't want to invoke his wrath, but…"

Jasmine sighed deeply. "You asked about the black handprint Killian, you made a point of it. You delayed treatment that could have kept her alive. You carry the title of Dark One, and the power of the Darkness. My doctor does not feel that your question is coincidental, and I… We need to know that you are on our team. Arthur, Hades and Ali - Aladdin - were traitors that I - we trusted. Their accusations of you are still concerning no matter their own actions against us. I need to know you're willing to help her."

Killian swallowed hard, carefully mulling over his words. He paused, and then let out a hiss of air. "They would be right. I don't know how I would have caused this though, unless it happened in the dreams we shared. I would never hurt her."

"But, you did."

"I'm aware of that!" he snapped, rounding on the doctor with a snarl. "I - I won't hurt her. It wasn't me who - I wasn't in control of my actions, and I have no recourse for that. If you can't help her, I'll find someone who will."

Killian fled, the one place he wanted to be forbidden to him if he valued his sanity. But still, she suffered. Why couldn't they heal her? Her light was there, it could not be his fault; her light would crush any sort of stain like it was nothing.

He needed to see her and see this illness for himself without worry. Under the cover of starlight, he moved into her room where she lay sleeping. She looked worse still, black creeping up her chest and different pads pressed against the dark blotches that seemed to be the worst. The Darkness had no understanding of his upset, or how much he wanted her, its insistence that he could not care deafening.

It wasn't true though.

"I don't know if you can hear me, or if you are even aware of me, but I… It's been so hard to ignore you. I hate myself for what I've done to you, and how terribly you’ve been hurt by the way I treated you. I was trying to push you away, I was trying to let you go, but I was so wrong. I've been so close to giving in and laying here with you, only to force myself to refuse your requests. You are my constant desire, I long to simply touch you, to feel your hand in my own. I miss you, I am so ashamed of my need for you... If I would have known, I would have never stopped anything at all. I'm so tired of hurting you, of not being able to make any decisions that keep you safe. So please, if you can hear me, please make the decision to live so I can keep trying."

Her voice startled him, Emma's eyes staying closed. "Am I going to die then?" she whispered in a cracked voice.

He squeezed her hand, the slight smile she attempted pained. "Not if I can help it, love."

"I thought you must hate me, but you're here." The awe in her voice was like a blade. How could he let things go this wrong? "You're always such a hero when it comes to me. It suits you. It suits you more than the Darkness, even."

"A hero? No, you have it wro -"

"You… You and I shared memories… I want to remember, but…" She opened her eyes, staring at him with adoration. His immediate reaction was to swallow the urge to scream, not at her, but at the unfairness of her looking at him in such a way. She was supposed to forget everything that had transpired. She had to forget. That wasn't him, it could never be him. Not with the Darkness staining his life.

"What are you talking about?"

"You kept coming back for me, saving me. I wanted you to kiss me, and you tasted like sweet wine when you did. We danced again and again." She lifted herself, trying to stand and he pushed her back down onto the mattress. Tucking the thin sheets around her body, he tried to keep his emotion contained. Unable to look at her, he trained his sight on his sandals.

"Emma - you shouldn't be getting up like that. You're very ill and need to rest."

Emma didn't seem to hear him, suddenly crying out in pain as she wheezed, coughing in a harsh fit. When she managed to end it and gulped down air, she shivered as a sheen of sweat began to cover her skin. A small smile fell on her lips, her gaze shifting to dizzily fixate on his seat. She tried to reach for him again without grace, knocking over various bottles and untouched bowls of food. "Dancing with you made me happy… We should do that again sometime. Maybe later tonight at the Harvest Festival?"

"You need to -" Killian stood to push her back onto the bed again, but she fell back on her own, her elbow buckling under her weight. The whimper she let out broke his heart, her muscles straining.

"I'm burning. Killian, please make it stop. I want my Mom."

"Shh, darling." Soothing her with a few hummed notes, she relaxed into dozing while he held her clammy hand in his.

"Am I dreaming again? Or are you real? I miss you so much from what we were there. I miss how easily you -" Her voice ended in a gasp, coughing taking the rest of the thought. Killian tried to give her a bit of water in a small stone ladle laid out, but she struggled to swallow the liquid. He was struck by how small and how tired she looked.

"Yes, love. You're dreaming."

"I like the dreams like this. I miss you caring about me," Emma murmured in a forlorn voice. Killian let his lips rest against her knuckles.

Speaking into her curled fingers, he let them muffle his words. "I do too."

"Why am I so tired? I miss the dreams that I could… "

"Because you need your rest, darling. Please, just rest. I'll be back soon."

"Do you promise?"

"Emma - yes. Yes, I promise."

"Please don't break it, okay? I don't want to lose you."

"I -"

"I told you that I loved you, remember?" Emma whispered with a soft hum of a sigh. Killian felt frozen, the way she looked up at him, gingerly intertwining his fingers into her own. Her skin felt papery, but so warm against his. "If I'm going to die, you should know that I meant it. I meant it here too, all of you. I chose to see the best in you, and I see it so clearly sometimes - "

"You don't know what you're saying. You need to sleep, Princess. Go to sleep." She coughed again, but settled as he asked.

Emma’s condition had worsened more than he could have dared to imagine. Her whimper of pain was raspier, her hand squeezing his. The urge to scream was back, the Darkness wondering why its vessel's eyes burned. If she died, he would never forgive himself. He’d raze Selune Isle to ashes; anything to forget about her.

"You don't have to say it back. You don't have to feel it, either. Nothing unsaid between us. Nothing, now. I love you. I… " Her breathing evened out into hard exhales, sleep hard to ignore with how little oxygen she seemed to be keeping in her lungs.

"I never stopped." He couldn't bring himself to say any more than that, to whisper a truth she should know, or to even think it, lest the Darkness hear his murmured admission.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

In the early morning light, Emma lay still even as the sun tried to warm her sweaty forehead and the wind attempted to pull at her damp hair. She hadn't woken since the last time they had spoken, the night full of close calls and terror he hadn't known he could still feel. Killian sat by her side dutifully through it all, gently stroking her hand. The Darkness protested his urge to cry with venom, its screeching voice unable to break through his desire for her to come back to him.

"Come back to me, love," he whispered. "I should have known when we fell from the sky into this world and I had to pull you from the water, that I would never have enough of you. I should have told you when you defeated Pan, or when you kissed me. I should have made it clear how I felt when we were reunited in Ursula's grotto, and how wrong I was. I should have whispered it like I wanted to so desperately when we danced on Selune, or I woke to you curled next to me. I should have told you that you were like an angel, when you in turn pulled me from my own hell, and I will forever regret not saying anything," Swallowing hard, he tucked a golden tendril of her hair behind her ear. "So, come back Emma. Please."

"Killian," Jasmine said from behind him. He looked up, and she crooked a finger, beckoning him to follow her into the courtyard area. He pressed a soft kiss to Emma's cheek before pulling himself reluctantly from her bedside.

They sat in silence, a servant serving juices and a platter of various fresh fruit. Jasmine finally spoke after several minutes of both of them staring at the food but making no moves to taste it.

"Killian, she's not going to last much longer," Jasmine said shakily. "Even if we could keep her alive, it would be cruel at this point."

Anguish and panic coursed through his veins. No. Not Emma. "What about the envoy you sent to Selune Isle, to seek out the Dragons?"

Jasmine shook her head. "They have not let the ship into the barrier, even with our flags raised. My captain keeps circling and hoping someone greets him so he may request aid."

"Bloody hell, they were in the process of making posts for this type of patrol but had not started." He laid his head in his hands, before standing abruptly and flipping the table in front of him. Jasmine watched, impassive, as he crushed grapes and figs among the shards of broken serving platters.

The silence that came after, as he knelt in the shards of colored bowls and fragrant fruit, was interrupted by Jasmine's whisper.

"Killian, Did you really hurt her?"

"I -" He began, surprised when the word escaped him like a sob.

"Don't lie to me," Jasmine whispered again, her voice grave.

"Yes," Killian admitted. "I crushed her heart in a nightmare. I am the cause of her illness, and I'll do anything to help her get better. I didn't - I never meant for -"

"It might not have been you, Killian, we don't know." Jasmine attempted to soothe, but he only barked out a cold, mirthless laugh. "It's not dark magic that is causing the strange blackness on her skin like you thought; this could be something else. Just because that happened -"

"Tell me something, Sultana," Killian interrupted, scrubbing his face with his hand. "Is there a future you've seen, even a chance, that rids me of this curse?" The Darkness bit at him, protesting his question. He found he didn't care.

"I don't - I am still unable to see as much as I should," Jasmine said quickly before hesitating. "But… There is a future where you free yourself, yes. A few paths, almost all clouded by failure. The path I saw had you and the princess closely tied by the fates, her life in the balance."

"Because of course it bloody is. She’s going to die because of me -"

"No - well, maybe, but not yet - there's still a chance. The path is longer, it does not end here. I am not able to see clearly with Aladdin's magic in my way. I am trying, but there's so much darkness…"

"Answer without sodding riddles, you are not a Sphinx!"

"You said you would do anything to help her. Would you swear it instead on her name? The name of the woman I think we both know you lo -"

"I swear on Emma, on my Swan, I swear it."

"Swear on yourself, Killian Jones, the man who is the Dark One. You must believe fully in your heart that you will save her."

"I…" Killian hesitated, swallowing hard. Taking a deep breath, he set his jaw. "I swear on myself."

Liar! You cowardly and pathetic shell of a man. LIAR.

"Remember that, remember when you are fighting your worst enemy -"

"Sultana!" A servant slammed the door wide open, looking at both of them in surprise. "Oh, I - uh -"

"How dare you interrupt this!" Jasmine hissed, her eyes burning bright. "What was so important that ---"

"It could not wait, my Sultana. I beg forgiveness, but it could not be delayed!" The servant threw himself at her feet, groveling. "Please, have mercy my Sultana! It is in regards to the sick woman, the princess."

Both Killian and Jasmine glanced at each other. Killian stood, the servant beginning to quake with further fear as he stood next to Jasmine.

"Who told you the princess was here?" Killian asked, his voice betraying his rising anger. "No one should know that, not a damned bloody soul -"

"They named her by her first name! I swear! They say that they have a cure for the princess, and are friends of hers. They named you specifically Dark One, or Killian Jones."

Killian’s eyes narrowed, and he ground his teeth in thought, although his jaw protested.

"Will you go? I can send sentries or an accompanying party," Jasmine said lowly. "If it's a threat we can -"

"No. I'll go, and if I don't return, I don't return. If they have medicine for her, I'll find a way to get it. I swear it."

Jasmine nodded, the servant handing an envelope to Killian before fleeing with a series of bows.

"Let us hope that they are friends and not foes, with an actual cure for Princess Emma." Jasmine made a religious symbol with her hands, kissing the center.

"I don't pray, and I don't hope." Killian brushed past Jasmine, without looking back. "If they don't have a bloody cure for my Swan, they won't have any prayers or any hope either."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian moved through the docks, and to their ship with practiced ease in the quiet alleyways he had discovered during his avoidance of Emma. The sandstone homes and terracotta steps that weaved to the sea were a fitting distraction for him to lose himself in, and a perfect metaphor for his jumbled thoughts.

Who was it that wanted to speak to Emma through him? How did they know that from the thousands of ships moored in the docks of Agrabah, Emma had made a safe passage through the portals on the Jolly Roger? Who else knew?

The thought of Nil sent a shudder down his spine, Emma's nightmare once again fresh in his mind.

You can keep her safe, but only if you fight for her.

Only if you fight for your happiness, and yourself.

The quiet voice that was once blocked by the Darkness was growing bolder.

The Darkness strained against his constant pressure, snarling at his reinvigorated conscience.

You can't save anyone, let alone your damned soul. I own you. I am you. You can't hold me back forever, and I will never go away.

When you least expect it, I will destroy everything you love - all you have to do is let yourself relax.

Holding his forehead in one hand, Killian pressed on, jumping on the deck of the ship with his sword drawn. Two Fae eyed him warily as he moved his feet into a fighting stance. He could not identify what sort of Fae or who they were, but they seemed to be close, the woman pushed behind the man with shaggy brown hair in a protective gesture Killian recognized as something he had done for Emma.

The male counterpart rested his deep brown eyes on Killian, before smiling slightly. He bowed carefully, Killian grimacing and following the stranger with his sword's point.

"You're him then? The Dark One? Killian Jones of the Blackwater?" the stranger asked.

"Yes, and who are you?" Killian raised his sword higher, jabbing it as the man jumped back in surprise. "How did you come to know what -"

The woman was heavy with child, which gave him pause until the man was throwing himself in front of her. He put his hands up, cowering slightly. "Is Emma alright? Did she remember to not use her magic? And you, did you take care of her? We warned her when she was under the rites, but it took longer than we thought to get here."

"You - how - " Killian faltered, but shook it off to straighten again, gripping his cutlass tighter. "I ask again: What business do you have with the princess?"

"I'm Henry. I'm a friend I swear, and I serve fealty to her and the crown family. Emma is ill, yes? The Kitsune witch put some sort of parasitic creature in her; we told her this before we left to find you both. We sent her here to get help. We knew the Sultana could keep her alive and protected long enough for us to make our way here." Killian let his arm drop, the man relaxing without the blade in his face. "I have a spark of light magic I hold as a Hol guardian and protector of the realms. Time is completely out of control, and the Goblins are attacking pocket realms just like this one. Emma needs this to survive, and to fight back."

Henry produced a glowing ball of light that was iridescent in the sunshine. It sparkled like a faceted diamond as Henry held it.

"I didn't know. Emma… she doesn't remember everything that happened, and she is barely holding on." Killian set his jaw, furious with himself. "I have to go, I need to save her."

The woman spoke, her accented voice drenched in exhaustion. "Thank you. We will seek passage again -"

"Take this ship. It's stocked and ready to go, as I was…" Shame rose on his throat as he thought about almost leaving before. "Just take it. I'll save her."

"You must know, this magic is akin to yours, Dark One." Henry approached cautiously, holding out the orb. The Darkness screeched, burrowing further into him, desperate to escape the strange ethereal glow the globe emitted. "The other side of the coin, the flicker of light that casts your shadow. Both have their extremes, and both can be addictive. Do not let her become blinded by the brightness as you cannot let yourself become lost in your abyss."

Killian let the spark fall in his palm, where it dimmed. He frowned and Henry clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Hurry, Dark One. Not only does Emma not have much time, but the longer you hold that spark, the more it will fade."

Killian gave no reply, sheathing his sword and turning in a single motion. The jump to the pier after launching himself off the deck was with as much grace as he could muster, his feet moving as soon as he had purchase, running as fast as his feet would carry him towards the palace. There was hope. He was absolved of one misdeed on his long list, and Emma would not suffer soon enough. Cruella had caused this, not him, and Emma had begged him to stay with faith that he was good, that he could be redeemed. She could be saved now, and he had faith she would be alright with the magic thrumming in his palm.

It was a blur to her quarters, the sound of breaking glass chilling him. Someone was yelling, a strange blue smoke swirling around her quarters. People were on the ground coughing profusely as the shadow of a man pulled Emma into his arms. No, not just a man, his face visible as he turned. A thief Killian recognized at once.

"Emma! No, wait -"

Emma's face was flushed against the thief's shoulder, her arms hanging weakly at her sides. She limply tried to reach out to Killian, but neither was fast enough when the thief jumped from the window. Killian ran to the window, terrified of how and where they had landed when there was a sheer drop outside, but could see no evidence of a fall from the balcony. A carpet whooshed past him as Jasmine ran into the room, Aladdin addressing them as Emma lolled in his hold barely conscious.

"We'll be at the Cave of Wonders, so don't dawdle. Especially since she doesn't have much time left."

"No! Please, she's -" Killian lunged, almost falling the sheer drop from the balcony as Jasmine wrenched him back.

"Aladdin, don't do this! Please!" Jasmine shouted, and Aladdin stared at her with a pained look crossing his face. The blue cracks on his skin had reached his chin and cheeks, tearing the flesh there. Emma had been right, the thief harbored magic that he clearly could not control.

"You, Sultana, should know better than anyone that I have no choice." he said flatly. "Dark One, my Masters offer you a trade. Your life for hers. Make your choice."

"I - please don't -" Jasmine began, but Aladdin simply shook his head sadly, the carpet speeding into the sky.

Killian roared with anger, his body full of a rage he could feel in every cell. Jasmine was barking orders hoarsely, people scurrying around behind him as he whirled to look at the Sultana.

"Where did he -"

"The Cave of Wonders. I'm responsible for this, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you get Emma back." She touched his shoulder, looking surprised when he took another menacing step forward.

"I said, where -"

"I'll take you." Jasmine looked out across the desert, then turned to a few lingering servants. "We leave at once."

Trying to pull away from him, he held her wrist firmly. "What is going on here? What happened with your thief, and why did he take Emma?" The growl of impatience and anger in his voice made Jasmine flinch, but she didn't answer as her brows pinched together. "Sultana!"

Jasmine broke from her thoughts, carefully pulling away at the cage of his fingers to loosen his grip. "He was rambling the last time I saw him, and sick. He's a Djinn. Obviously fighting against his master's control on him, by the looks of it, which…" She paused, looking intently at his fingers. "He kept saying that he didn't want to hurt me, he didn't want to kill me, for me to run from him because the pull was too strong. He wanted me to end his life, and I didn't. I didn't believe him, and now, Emma…"

Killian dropped her wrist, fighting the emotions that came to the surface, the situation eerily reminiscent. A master that demanded absolute obedience, and those caught in the crossfire being hurt despite every attempt. Aladdin had seen through him and the Darkness so quickly, catching him so off guard he hadn't seen the clear understanding the man held of his predicament.

"The Carpets are ready, Sultana." A servant announced with a slight bow. "We will have to cross bandit blockades to get through to the cave, which Iago has located."

Jasmine nodded, turning to walk briskly toward another attendant that carried a hooded cloak as well as a knapsack. "The Cave of Wonders is the resting place of the Djinn All Father, or the Lord of Djinn. He can make people Genies, which is why he has been sealed away in a magical dungeon since my mother's death."

"So, this dungeon presumably is in all likelihood highly fortified by Jafar, Hades, and Arthur's men who have not one, but two Djinn?" Killian ran a hand through his hair, his jaw working. "We need a bloody army -"

"One Genie. Aladdin. Who is down to his final wishes from the look of his degradation. The Djinn All Father does not leave his chambers or use his magic outside of creation for any reason, not since his daughter died resulting in his self imposed banishment." Swallowing hard, Jasmine stepped onto a carpet as it floated, Killian sitting by her side. "My mother. He is my Grandfather, and never stopped blaming himself for her fate, and my own."

The carpet rushed through the air, Killian's stomach immediately in his throat as their small group wove through the clouds. They were met with brief attacks here and there as they crossed what seemed like an empty expanse of cooked earth, none requiring a full scale assault. Unease prickled at the back of his mind when more than half of their original force had fallen behind to end small fights. This was clearly an ambush, but one that there was no choice but to fall into. The Sultana knew as well based on her terse expression when they drew near a a huge sand hill in the shape of a tiger. It's maw was opened wide, light beckoning from its throat where steps led down into the ground. They landed low as men swarmed from within, swords raised, yelling wild cries.

"Do not touch anything inside, Killian!" Jasmine shouted over the sounds of steel. "It's all enchanted to try and entice you - go straight to Emma."

Killian gave her a nod, running to weave through the sparring crowd. The Sultana barked orders to cover him while he slashed through the first trickle of men defending the place, through halls filled with mountains of gold, through a banquet room of overflowing delicacies, all while curving deeper and deeper into the earth.

Large, columned, doors that dwarfed him in size eight fold opened to a huge chamber lined with more columns. The floor was cracked in places, sand drifting from the ceiling to the floor making small hills or rocky platforms. On one flattened ledge, lay Emma.

Her night dress clung to her skin, teeth visibly chattering while her eyes were screwed firmly shut. Warmth flooded Killian's chest, the strangeness of his heart both jumping out of and freezing in synchrony not stopping his feet from moving on their own accord to get to her. The shard rested on her bruised chest, his presence not acknowledged even as he touched her burning cheeks. Her breathing hitched when his thumb swept over a smudge on the apple of her cheek, the sliver of foggy green under her lashes the most precious thing he had seen in the stone halls varied treasures.

"Kil -" Emma tried to whisper, but could not do so without coughing, her breath coming out in a rattling heave. Without grace, she tried to move closer to his body, instead falling back with a resounding thump.

"Love, oh Emma, I'm so sorry." She moaned softly at the sound of his voice, clinging to him, the concave of her bosom barely moving from her shallow breaths. "Stop, stop trying to move, please -"

"You… You can't… Must… Go." Emma coughed again, before panting heavily. "Don't…"

Smiling softly at her he kissed her temple, her surprised face making his own heart skip a beat. "You are too important to not fight for. For others to fight for. Henry found you a cure, love. You're going to be alright, you'll be just fine."

"You… You don't… Even… Like… Me…" she gritted out. Closing her eyes, Killian held her close. "Couldn't stand... to... stay... even a… a… few minutes…"

"You're wrong. I should have stayed, and I wanted to more than anything. I didn't want you to get hurt - You weren't supposed to remember everything that happened when you were under the Kitsune's power, but you against all odds are. You're remembering, and I acted… I am a coward. I tried to avoid you because if you remember what happened, what transpired between us - "

"It's…?"

"The dreams about us, the ones that you feel like you lived, like they're memories - they are real. They're what happened when you went through the Harvest ritual."

Emma tried to get out of his grip, pulling and pushing against his hands. She thrashed, her voice ringing in the space. "Why! How could you -"

"Stop it, you're going to kill yourself. This is why, right here. Between everything happening, I'm going to hurt you, or you will get hurt because of the Darkness. Why don't you understand? Why don't you value your life like you should!"

"I… I… don't want…" She hesitated, before looking up at him, her eyes wet and full of a deep sadness. "To lose you."

"It's too strong, Emma. It's threatening your existence, and I am not strong enough to keep it at bay. I need to go, I need to stay away from you, if you and I are to ever be able to speak candidly about what happened. You deserve that much, and more."

Weakly, Emma whispered a rough plea. "Stay."

Killian chuckled lowly, trying to memorize her features. "I'll be happy knowing that you had a future, darling. Even if I'm not in it."

Pressing the spark against her sternum as he gave her forehead a peck, his arms wrapped around her to support her as she coughed. Emma doubled over, silk like threads escaping her mouth. She let out a muffled moan, gagging until she vomited a translucent, glittering, mother of pearl colored cocoon on the cave floor. Out of it, a black slug-like creature crawled with a familiar looking red nail stinger on its end, Killian crushing it immediately with his boot. The Kitsune had put one last creeping parasite into Emma, it's manifestation draining her to death to avenge its host. Repugnant, and very on brand of Cruella.

Emma took a steady breath, the rattle gone. She glowed slightly, her power making his skin tingle.

"Don't go with them, they aren't -" Emma tried to say something but was drowned out by the sounds of shouting from all around them.

"What?"

Arthur's voice was suddenly echoing around the cave. "Bind him with the ink."

"Killian, listen to me," Emma begged. Something burst over him, showering them with a spray of dark smoke. Killian tried to shield her, but to his great surprise found he was frozen in place. Emma touched his face in fear, her attempts to get her magic to work proving fruitless. "No, they're going to take you, that's what they wanted all along is you and the shard together -"

She was wrenched away by several men, laughter echoing through the caves. Jasmine was thrown next to her, Aladdin stepping in front of them. His body was in pieces, skin melting away to sparking electric blue underneath.

"Don't hurt them -" Killian bit out, Jafar sliding past him with a smirk. "I'll go willingly, just don't hurt them."

Jafar laughed, a fist connecting to his face from the other side of his head. Arthur's voice oozed into his ringing ear. "Thought you might deserve that one, mate. "

Hades appeared in his peripheral, leaning down to hold up Emma's chin as her arms were held back.

"This does put a damper on our timeline. Her being alive does not provide the Dark One the emotional turmoil we had initially planned on," Hades stated, his eyes flicking back to Killian. "We'll need to kill her here. Genie, please - "

Jafar scoffed. "The Genie is worthless for killing. He can't make anyone fall in love, bring back the dead, or kill anyone according to his code of honor. That's the only reason the Sultana still breathes."

Aladdin looked down at the ground, Jasmine staring at him in surprise.

"So, what's the plan then?" Hades asked, rolling his eyes. "We could take them to the compound which is a waste of time and resources, kill them here which wastes some time, or leave them behind to die here. There's no way out for the two of them."

Killian felt his voice loose before he could hold himself back. "No! No, please. I'll go with you willingly if you let them live, I swear it. I want to be rid of this scourge, and I will happily let you do whatever you want with me as long as you let them go."

Emma's head snapped up, her eyes wide. "No, Killian, what are you even saying? You can't be rid of it, they'll kill you -"

A hand clapped over her mouth, her muffled words shrill.

"We truly should keep the girl if she has this much hold over him. Imagine what torture on her would do for his compliance," Arthur mused, rubbing his scruff. Killian could see the bruising on his face from their last encounter, his eye still slightly purple. "I could also use her for the takeover of the United Realms -"

"No. It's not worth keeping her alive." Hades shook his head, tone still methodical and cold. "My plan hinges on her death as a means of cooperation between the Goblins, United Realms, and the manipulation of the Dark One."

"If you kill her, or harm her at all, I will never serve you. The dagger piece will never hold me, no matter how much magic you pour on me," Killian hissed, seething. He moved forward, striking towards Hades who had to lunge away. More of the black smoky substance was thrown at him, but he managed the best he could to fight it. "If you let them go, I won't fight. Only if you let them go."

There was a yelped curse from one of the men holding her, then Emma's voice pained and pleading. "Killian, no!" Emma cried, their eyes meeting.

He smiled gently, as well as he could manage. "Let me die, or release myself from this torment, darling. Let that be the man you remember: The man who died the hero he wanted to be, for you. For us."

"Please, no. I can't -" Emma whimpered, the hand clapped back over her lips roughly as she struggled.

"Fine. Deal taken." Hades nodded. Jafar scowled coldly.

"Well, if we're discarding them here to be let go, Aladdin should also be left behind," Jafar drawled.

Hades snapped his head to look at his partner. "What are you -"

"Aladdin, for my second wish, I wish to be the sorcerer Sultan of Agrabah."

"No! You can't -" Jasmine cried out.

A burst of magic surrounded her, her jeweled crown evaporating into dust, her clothes replaced by brown muslin. In a flash of light Jafar changed as well, his clothing embroidered in golden thread, the vest he wore covered in jewels. Upon his head sat a turban with a deep set ruby, the facets glittering like a crimson eye. "And as for our deal, for my third wish, I wish you were free of your binds as a Genie, living without your phenomenal cosmic powers. Be a Djinn no more."

Hades groaned, his face full of obvious fury.

Aladdin shimmered, the blue that had been eating away at him exploding outward as he fell to his knees. When he wobbled to his feet again, the fine clothes he wore dissolved to rags, blue dust shimmering over his skin. Jasmine blinked, her mouth opening in surprise.

"You!" Jasmine pointed at Aladdin, a hand covering her mouth in shock. "But you're that peasant -"

"I wanted to tell you Jasmine, but -" Aladdin started, sand beginning to pour from more gaps in the ceiling.

"So you see, Prince Ali is merely a street rat. Just a bore, no longer so worldly, a weakling once more, brought down to size. As for me? " With his long, gnarled fingers he pointed to Jasmine. "I don't have to waste my time thinking of ways to kill you any longer. This will be a fitting grave for you, Sultana."

"No, you're not to hurt them, not to kill them as I said!" Killian grunted as he was dragged backwards, more of what he thought might be the same ink they had used before on the shard thrown in his face. It became hard to speak, his lungs burning from their inability to give him oxygen.

"We aren't hurting them, and certainly not killing them, just as you desire Dark One." Jafar's smile was wide, crazed. "Leaving them here fits your requirements. If they starve in these caves, or fall prey to the many traps, it was not us."

Killian tried to struggle, but more of the substance kept being pushed on him, hands gripping him tightly as he was dragged back. He almost lost sight of Emma, but a captor dropped him without grace, and he could finally see her again. She was no longer looking at him, but instead stared at Arthur.

Arthur approached Emma, his smile wide, lifting her chin. She pulled away in disgust at his touch, still unsteady as her hands shook.

"You're just like Guinevere. Neither of you deserve me. You don't see my greatness; you're selfish just as she was. You could never have helped me wield Excalibur, or control the Darkness." He tugged on Emma's chain necklace, the protective enchantment giving way around his own force. It slipped from her neck even as she struggled, hanging from Arthur's palm. "At least I have this as a consolation prize. It makes it much easier not having to pretend to have feelings for you. All kingdoms for the price of the Dark One."

With a wave of Hades' hand, a golden elevator cage appeared around Killian and his captors. Emma shook her head, Killian frozen by the black concoction they'd thrown at him, the Darkness roaring with glee. She reached for the rising bars, reaching for him, her fingers wrapped tightly in his instead of caring about the shard like she should have - why him, what could he -

"No, I can't say goodbye to you again!" Emma yelled, her face set in stubbornness. His limbs loosened, her magic weak but her determination strong, Jafar letting out a frustrated noise of disgust at her outburst.

Killian came back into his body, clutching her hand tightly as her fingers scrabbled desperately trying to hold him. They parted, her scream of fury and sadness tearing at him.

"I will find you, I will always find you! Please Killian, know that I will not ever stop until we are together again."

The words gave him courage, his heart filled with pride and adoration. Emma would find him, he had no doubt. He would not let this place be her tomb. When he was able to move fully he rushed forward, smashing his forehead into the sorcerer's nose as hard as he could, grabbing the shard as they passed upwards into light of day. Pushing it into the abyss below as sand swallowed what was the entrance of the Cave of Wonders, Jafar bellowed out a noise, kicking him down and face first into the scorching sand.

It didn't matter how many times the livid sorcerer kicked him or shouted to the skies, Emma would get her magic back. She would heal, they had the shard, and if he had any chance to peel the Darkness currently howling inside him away, he would take it. She would find him, free of his curse, and they would finally be together.

I can feel your doubt, boy.

You know that you can't be free of me. Even in death, I remain. I am the constant in this body, you are just an echo. When Emma finds you again, I will have so much fun tearing her limbs off as the Dark One, without a trace of you left.

Nothing can save you now.

"No," Killian moaned, as they dragged him through the sand, their camels forcing him to stumble blindly behind them. "No, never. Not Emma. No."

In the end, Killian hoped Emma would forgive him, and by some miracle he could be free.

#Courtorderedcake #16th #August #2020 #August 16th 2020 #hallow #cs au #Captain swan #captain swan au #CS FF #cssns #cs fic rec #cs fic #cs fanart #my writing

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multiverseforger · 4 years ago

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Chris Powell was the teenage son of Mike Powell, a cop, and Grace Powell, a District Attorney. Following his younger twin brothers, Jon and Jason, to the abandoned amusement park across from his home, Chris discovered his father taking a bribe from mob boss Phillipe Bazin.[5][6]

While trying to escape with his brothers from Bazin's henchmen, Chris discovered an amulet that transposed him into the Darkhawk armor. When his father disappeared after Chris saw him, he swore to use the Darkhawk armor as an "edge against crime". Darkhawk's powers included a force blast which emanated from the amulet on his chest, a force shield from the same amulet, a claw cable which could serve as both a Wolverine-like claw, and a grapple cable, glider wings and later flight capability, enhanced vision and strength, and an image underneath the Darkhawk helmet which served to frighten and distract his enemies.[citation needed]

He often teamed up with Spider-Man. As a sometime member of the New Warriors, he befriended Speedball, Nova, and later, Turbo.[citation needed] During his tenure as a crime fighter, he was often trying to rescue his father, mother, or other family members.[citation needed]

He developed quite a roster of enemies: he would fight villains such as Hobgoblin and Tombstone, who were seeking to take his amulet, with the latter succeeding. He was extremely weakened and even dying from having the amulet removed, but still able to use all of his powers except for turning back into human form to heal. Once he retrieved the amulet he was able to put it back in his chest and fully heal. Darkhawk had 2 separate encounters with Venom, who felt that Chris was good natured and held back whereas Darkhawk was greatly opposed to Venom's ideals and way of handling crime, and swore to bring him to justice, despite Venom offering to be his ally. Lodestone: a magnetically-powered villain developed by Bazin, was often pitted against Darkhawk. He also fought against some who would later ally with him, such as Portal, a teleporting mutant who killed another Darkhawk and stole parts of his armor, Savage Steel, which had been created by the secret police cabal that Chris' dad had been a member of, and Damek, a mercenary sent from the future to kill Darkhawk.[citation needed]

Chris learned that his armor was actually an autonomously existing android armor, one of five commissioned by an alien mob lord named Dargin Bokk, being held in a sentient spaceship, Ocsh, in Null Space. When Chris grasped the amulet, it actually caused his body to switch places with that of the Darkhawk body, although his mind remained in control of the 'replacement' body.[citation needed]

After helping them several times, Darkhawk was brought aboard the Avengers West Coast as a reserve member, but saw little action with them after becoming a member, because they were dissolved shortly thereafter. Nonetheless, he did at least start a lasting friendship with Spider-Woman.[citation needed]

Darkhawk 2.0

Later, Chris and Darkhawk actually split into two separate entities, with the armor being updated into the "2.0" form, as it was informally known. This advanced form of armor gave Darkhawk new powers, such as the ability to form a force shield encasing his body, an actual "Hawk" construct (a gigantic force-field shaped like a hawk), and the ability to summon weapons from Osch. Darkhawk 2.0 and Chris re-merged, with the prospect of no longer needing to use the amulet in order to switch bodies.[citation needed]

Loners

Chris joined a self-help group of ex-teenage-super-heroes, the Loners, who admitted to being addicted to their powers. Members included: Turbo, Green Goblin IV (Phil Urich), Ricochet, Lightspeed and later Spider-Woman III (Mattie Franklin). The group was hired by a mysterious benefactor, later revealed to be Rick Jones, to track down the Runaways in Los Angeles.

Powell displayed trouble controlling his anger in his Darkhawk persona, leading to a short skirmish with Turbo. Dismayed with himself, Powell admitted to his teammates that he suffered a nervous breakdown.[7] Powell decided to never turn into Darkhawk again, but this decision did not last long, as shortly thereafter the group battled the notorious Avengers villain, Ultron. Darkhawk delivered the final blow, using a darkforce blast at point blank range to blow Ultron to pieces.[8]

The Loners continued their meetings and Chris was drawn back into heroics by Spider-Woman and made an enemy of MGH manufacturers who had abused Mattie Franklin and the woman running them as well as Nekra, a woman who was getting rich by selling her bodily fluids to them. Chris then got his Darkhawk amulet stolen from him temporarily by an unbalanced Phil Urich but was able to regain it with help from the group.[9]

Secret Invasion

Having registered with the government, Darkhawk was assigned to the position of security chief at Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S.. During the Skrull invasion, he worked alongside his old teammate Nova against the Deviant Skrulls.[10]

Fraternity of Raptors

The being known as Talon came to Earth, and offered to teach Chris how to control his amulet. They went to the Negative Zone to fight Annihilus. There, Chris bonded fully with his amulet. This allowed him to learn that the Fraternity of Raptors that Talon represented was evil and that the Fraternity had created the amulets. Evilhawk had been a hallucination caused by his mind, which had been unable to process all the information the Amulet gave him. The Raptor, known as Razor, took over Chris' body and assassinated Lilandra.[citation needed]

Later he fought Gyre another member of the Fraternity of Raptors that had been recruited as a pawn of the Sphinx. Darkhawk, Nova, Black Bolt, Mr. Fantastic and Namorita defeated the Sphinx and his pawns. Darkhawk was able to separate Gyre from his Kree host by using the same technique Talon used to separate Chris from Darkhawk and bring back Razor.[citation needed]

Avengers Arena

Arcade kidnapped Chris and fifteen teenage heroes and brought them to Murderworld, a secluded island where no one could find them, and forced them to fight each other to the death, and only the last man standing within thirty days would be allowed to leave.[11] One night, he was attacked and had his amulet removed, leaving his fate unknown.[12] His amulet would get passed around by others locked in Murderworld.[13]

Chris was later shown in a coma-like state in a strange tank along with the deceased heroes, where Arcade appeared to be healing him. Waking up, he located Arcade and knocked him out. He later reclaimed his amulet and was among the survivors of the battle.[14]

Marvel Legacy

Powell eventually resurfaced back in New York, set to marry a new fiancée by the name of Miranda Cruz. With whom he'd shared all of his exploits while piloting the sentient automaton known Darkhawk. Nowadays his Amulet has become inert, not so much as even changing when he focuses his thoughts on becoming his alter ego again; but lately has been suffering from nightmares of the Tree of Shadows every time he slept. Following in his father's footsteps, he eventually became an officer of the law at the NYPD. Taking to the same beat Micheal Powell used to back when he was one of the police, he reminisced about how his father would listen to people and remember their names while trying to keep the peace on the streets.

Trying to be the every bit as big a man and a better cop than he was by holding the values he once thought Mike stood for before, Chris found out his father was a corrupt cop. All the while ruminating on whether the world needed him as Christopher Powell, police officer or as the cybernetic hero he once was. While on patrol, dispatch sent out notice of a disturbance at Wonderland Amusement Park, where he first found the Raptor Amulet.

While investigating the derelict establishment, Powell was approached by two shady cops right near the area where he first became Darkhawk. Officer Hal Fingeroth and Sergeant Harold Conrad came to Powell offering certain opportunities while on the force which Chris quickly denied, when the latter opted to be a bit more forceful in his persuasion; Conrad was quickly eviscerated by members of the Fraternity of Raptors who were after the young officer's depowered amulet. Canorus and Aceptar created the odd circumstances which led to Christopher retracing his origin as a superhero in order to kill him and take what they believed was theirs by right, but the former raptor didn't go without a fight; discovering that these new raptors were in actuality just armored Shi'ar thugs given how easily Aceptar was stunned by a shock baton.

Though Christopher was eventually subdued by Canorus and his gem taken from him. Canorus was able to activate it again with a damaged Razor taking his place, whom nearly beat Powell's other would be assassin to death until Chris got his attention. The badly broken android grabbed hold of Powell and ported him to a portion of the Datasong he called the "Perch," where memories of previous host pilots were stored within a Raptor's own motherboard.

Razor, now calling itself Darkhawk after the recombinant persona imprinted on itself due to their shared escapades as a hero. Chris learned from his other half that a whole new Fraternity has sprung up in the wake of Novas' decimation, eager to bring the universe to heel under their thrall and had been searching for a means of acquiring the Raptor androids from the Null Space void to cement their dominance. Horrified by this development the now empathetic Razor sought to defy this mandate by said cabal of zealot pretenders by escaping his pod and severing his link to the Tree of Shadows, which was the reason why Powell couldn't become Darkhawk anymore. Severing his brethren's connection to their amulets earned Raptor their ire, however. They nearly hunted it down and executed until he was summoned to Earth by Canorus. Seeing the opportunity to heal itself, and hoping to enlist aid in stopping the renegade Raptor sect, Darkhawk sought union with Chris Powell once again in order to recover and grow in power.

Seeing as the whole of the universe was at stake, including his own homeworld in the long run. Chris knew in spite of his misgivings about space travel and the new life he has on Earth, that since his android had grown a conscience since the War of Kings. That he could not just sit by and pretend what effects the galaxy has no consequences for everybody involved, himself included. Donning the name Darkhawk once more, he took to the skies after blasting the other raptor back to his enclave in space before taking off, wondering how Miranda will react to the change of pace.[15]

Infinity Countdown

After learning from Richard Rider that the Fraternity of Raptors were after the Infinity Stones, Chris wanted to find a way to stop them, but he was stuck on Earth. He was later attacked by the bounty hunter Death's Head who was hired by the Raptors to capture Chris and bring him back to them alive. After learning that Death's Head had a spaceship, Chris was able to convince Death's Head to take him to the Raptors. After saying goodbye to Miranda, Chris and Death's Head traveled to where Death's Head was to meet the Raptors, the planet Arcturus IV; however, the Raptors betrayed Death's Head and destroyed his ship. Chris survived the ship's destruction and confronted the Raptors, but he was quickly overwhelmed by their numbers.

Chris' Darkhawk Amulet was removed from his body by the Raptors' leader Gyre and used in a ceremony to transform Richard Rider's brother Robbie Rider into the being called Dark Darkhawk by fusing him with Ratha'kon, a being supposedly more powerful than the Phoenix Force. The Raptors then left a dying Chris where he was set off to destroy Earth. As Chris dragged himself across the ground, he encountered his other half Razor who revealed to him the origins of the Tree of Shadows and of the first Raptor. After some coaxing from Razor, Chris tapped into his hidden strength and emerged with a new Darkhawk body after fully fusing his mind with the armor. Chris then flew after the Raptors to stop them.[16]

Chris battled the Raptors with help from Death's Head and Nova Prime. Nova made it difficult to fight Dark Darkhawk as he preferred to reason with his brother Robbie than fight him. Dark Darkhawk then shockingly turned on Gyre and destroyed him while stating that he would bring order to the universe, not Gyre. The Raptors were eventually stopped when Death's Head rigged the power core of the Kree ship the Raptors stole to explode. Only Dark Starhawk survived the explosion, though stunned, allowing Chris to reclaim his Darkhawk Amulet. Dark Starhawk then disappeared in a flash of light after striking his Nega-Bands together. Grieving over the loss of Robbie, Nova angrily told Chris to stay on Earth or he would have him locked up. After Chris returned to Earth, he decided stay out of space for a while. Later that night, he was met by Sleepwalker while he dreamed, telling him that the influence of the Infinity Stones threatened the Mindscape and that the only way he could protect it was to become a Sleepwalker.[17]

Young Again

Darkhawk attended Thanos' funeral along with prominent cosmic figures where it was revealed that Thanos had transferred his mind into a new body. However, the Black Order came and stole Thanos' corpse, while opening a rip in space in order to trap them.[18] While trapped there, Darkhawk's atoms began to break apart, affecting his link to the suit. After being captured by the Universal Church of Truth from a possible future, Chris found out that his body was merged with the armor and that he had become younger than when he first found the amulet.[19] Under the control of the Church, Darkhawk and the other prisoners attacked the Guardians of the Galaxy, but Rocket Raccoon was able to free them from the Church's control and sent the church back to their timeline.[20]

After the Void was leading the forces of the Cancerverse into invading the Negative Zone, Darkhawk was among the heroes summoned by Mister Fantastic using his Dimensional Anchor in order to defeat the Scourge. Once the Silver Surfer managed to merge Bob Reynolds with Void back, Nova sacrificed himself in order to defeat the Scourge, ending the threat.[21]

Powers and Abilities

Power Grid [24]Intelligence 2Strength4 Speed*5 3Durability4 Energy Projection*6 3Fighting Skills 2* Armor Transformations

Abilities

Skilled Combatant: Chris is skilled in Kendo and an unidentified branch of Karate.[citation needed]

Strength level

25+ Tons.[15]

Paraphernalia

Equipment

Darkhawk Amulet:

Consciousness Transfer: Chris can transfer his consciousness into the Darkhawk's alien android while at the same time, switch the robotic body's place with that of his own body wherever he is at any time.[citation needed]

Darkhawk Android: The Darkhawk Armor is advanced Shi'ar technology meshed with magic, allowing the host numerous superhuman capabilities:

Superhuman Strength: The Armor allows Chris to lift in the excess of 25+ tons. Able to knock out Venom.[citation needed]

Superhuman Speed

Superhuman Durability: Darkhawk is superhumanly durable; he is capable of shrugging off physical impacts, energy blasts, and most artillery fire.

Superhuman Agility

Superhuman Reflexes

Armament Conjuration: The Android can summon weapons from the extra-dimensional expanse from whence they came, or manifest desired munitions from its own body at will.[citation needed]

Flight: The retractable glider wings under his arms allow him to glide on air currents. Darkhawk can also fly at speeds that let him fly from New York to California in only a matter of hours. After the Darkhawk armor attained a new form, Chris is able to fly interstellar distances.[22]

Self Repair: Even major injuries to his Darkhawk body can be repaired by switching back to his human form.[citation needed]

Superhuman Vision: Darkhawk has telescopic and infra-red vision. He can see through most camouflage.[citation needed]

Force Field: Chris can utilize a circular wafer-thin force field.[citation needed]

Concussion Blasts: He can fire blasts of destructive dark energy from the amulet on his chest.[citation needed]

Mode Shifting: Talons can morph their bodies into a host of augmentative forms. Becoming transparent, doubling body armor, projecting greater weaponry, etc.[citation needed]

Formerly *Avengers Identicard

Transportation

Formerly Avengers Quinjet

Trivia

Darkhawk's armor and appearance has been a continued source of debate amongst Marvel "True-Believers." After his series was canceled, his new appearances often reverted back to the original Darkhawk armor. As of his Loners appearances, he is in "DH 1.0" form, although he had appeared a few times as DH 2.0 prior to this.[citation needed]

It has been a misunderstanding amongst many readers and fans of Darkhawk that he was aware of his status as a hero within the Marvel 2099 universe, in which he is known as "The Powell," one of the "most powerful, and feared, heroes in the universe." This wasn't Earth-928 (or Marvel 2099), it was a similar cyberpunk dystopia world within Chronopolis. This was resolved by DeFalco himself within the letter columns in one of the final issues of the ongoing series.[citation needed]

Links and References

185 Appearances of Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

15 Minor Appearances of Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

Media Christopher Powell (Earth-616) was Mentioned in

123 Images featuring Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

13 Quotations by or about Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

Character Gallery: Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

Christopher Powell (Earth-616) on Wikipedia.org

Darkhawk Zone: The Ultimate Darkhawk Fansite

Darkhawk @ New Warriors Continuity Conundrum

New Warriors Message Board