#making fiends sequence

[technicallydelightfulpenguin]

*marvin gently placed his peace finger on vendetta parents to greet them* здравей г-н и г-жа вендета родители

*Vendetta parents are grateful for him, as they knew she could improve as a living being, despite knowing what Vendetta did to both.(Vendetta realized that governing Clamburg sucks, and that everyone is traumatized by it, to the point that no one can mention the name/word, and her obssesion with the fiends make her crazy and the rest everybody knows that) Charlotte and Marvin knows her better than in the childhood, and you know she's not as bad as people say.*

[ronearoundblindly]

Forgot to add In our modern days please

So we've got: ☑️ relaxing ☑️ domestic ☑️ established relationship ☑️ with Steve

Since it's *me,* there's some deep feels in there... plus hearty laughs.

No warnings. It's just headcanon-style fluff!

He likes the warmth of the clothes right out of the dryer, so Steve always thunders over to the laundry room the instant the machine stops. There could be a no-holds-barred action sequence blaring from the TV. There could be real gunshots outside. Doesn't matter. He heard it. As long as you're not in immediate danger, he's going to run and plunge himself shoulder-deep into toasty fabric.

That wasn't a thing when he was a kid. Now, Steve would rather wear out sheets faster than dry them on low heat. He will pay the money. It's worth it.

For the holidays last year, you bought him a huge, fluffy, heated blanket, and he absolutely uses it--keeps himself tucked in until sweating then kicks it off in frustration--but the laundry addiction never stops.

Every time he showers with you at home, you warm his towel in the dryer for a few minutes.

There is nothing, nothing, quite as cute as Steve Rogers burying his face in a fresh towel and hugging it to leech out each extra degree Fahrenheit...or Celsius. He's not picky.

When it's a load of mixed clothing, he scoops it all up and carries it like a boulder over to the bed, bending at his Disney princess waist to press himself in.

Just a minute. Just give him a few deep breaths and a minute.

He likes to fold sheets with you taking one end and him taking the other, coming together in the middle, because no matter how long you two have been a couple, Steve still gets a thrill at his fingers grazing across yours as he takes a corner, as he hands you another. He's a simple man with simple pleasures.

Now, sweaters are a different story.

Steve will wash and dry those however keeps them softest for longest, even if it means putting them on that rack he constantly stubs his toe on. Worth it. Sure. Can we just always put that stupid thing away quickly? He's going to keel over one night trying to get to the bathroom in the dark. Seriously, it's a hazard!

Steve won't wear shoes in the house, which might seem obvious to a lot of people--he's a pretty clean and considerate man, of course he'd want to not bring crap inside, both physically and mentally--but Steve also likes to be barefoot in his home. He doesn't have slippers, but he insists on the floors being pristine.

He vacuums the rugs and carpet constantly because it feels best on his feet that way. Wiggling his toes is part of a grounding ritual he does once home.

Sometimes it's as simple as holding you for a while, savoring a long hug, methodically rubbing your back, and letting you lightly scratch at his.

He prays, in his own way, at that time. What he's grateful for. What he's hopeful for. Thanking whoever or whatever is out there for you.

He's a research fiend. As good as he is about keeping the floors clean, Steve will litter every other surface with books, newspapers, files, magazines, printed articles, and anything else necessary to get the answers he's looking for. He does not like to just search online. He's the weirdo who makes note of the citation online and finds that source at the library.

At some point, you have to put a moratorium on bringing books home when he's deep in that research phase. He's a fast reader; he can scan some there. Steve may be able to check out unlimited volumes, but your home has a finite volume.

You're not discouraging learning, though, just trying to keep it reasonable. No need for him to be possessed by the Ghost of Knowledge Past...

You can tell he's good and properly lost in an art project when supplies are everywhere. Unless it's going to stain/damage something, Steve does not clean-as-he-draws. The colors are out and they are accessible.

You love this; he's happy like this. You let him do it.

Steve gets really, really picky about what art hangs where in your home. He's knows you like his art, but it's nothing compared to the printed and canvased work of the masters. He pitches a fit if you try to display his as predominantly, but you refuse to stick them on the fridge like he's a child.

It's his hobby, he loves it, and he improves in different ways every time he picks up a pencil (or pen). He often has the most casual and fun conversations when he's splitting his brainpower. Steve doesn't particularly know he's doing it (how could he? he'd stop and overthink it if he did), but you can see the stress-thickened aura on him melt away if he's distracted for long enough.

Focusing on cooking with you has the same effect. These activities have become therapy for him--and you--and act as multitasking which is wonderful in the sometimes limited spans he gets to stay at home.

Once almost everything inside your home is setup nicely--there's always room for improvement or redecorating 🤗--Steve makes you two a nook outside to stargaze. He loves to stare and let his mind wander, but he especially loves to have you there in his arms. It's not limited to nighttime either. He's equally thrilled with watching clouds or, if you're under cover, watching storms roll in.

He likes to have you sit between his legs and lean against him. The pressure on his chest is soothing, but he can rest his cheek to yours. Steve gets to use a soft voice then, not his usual, commanding one. With you so close, he can whisper. It's just you two in the whole wide world.

Steve may not be much of a singer, but he uses that same, sweet whisper to share lullabies from his Ma as you fall asleep at night. Not every night, but still. It's magical.

He insists on trying something new every single time he goes to the grocery store. Doesn't matter if it's a condiment or a side dish or a little treat, a new cut of meat or fancy nut milk, Steve has to explore (safely).

He is, of course, still appalled at the price tags, but he also can't judge when something is too expensive since it all is to him. This is how he ended up with a single, $12 dipped pretzel, and you nearly fainted.

It was quite delicious, but never again!

There's a code, a safeword of sorts, for really bad days. Doesn't matter the reason, could be as simple as your brain just can't brain, but it means the user (you or Steve) get to call the shots. You might want to be alone, you might want him to hold you until the sun rises, you might want to watch the cringiest romcoms or ugly cry reading your 'stories.' No questions.

Shawarma.

It came from an early moment once Steve was out of the ice. The whole battle was a disaster from start to finish. He was so overwhelmed, but so was the makeshift team. They all sat in silence. Ate. Didn't eat. Fell asleep sitting up. Fell asleep in their food. No one cared. That's the idea. He needs that sometimes, as he figures everyone does.

Whatever the other wants.

Unsurprisingly, this often winds up mutually beneficial. Sometimes being quiet for the other's sake lets both just breathe. He looks at you and can see your pain, your strain, your fatigue. Steve always ends up smiling, though, because he loves you. There's a type of beauty in your sadness--this gravitational pull to bring him closer, to let him in, to let him lift you back up--that makes him feel needed. This home is where he shields you from the world. On his worst days, he still gets to protect you, to do good, and to make you happy. That is all he's ever wanted in his whole life

Also sometimes shawarma sounds good for dinner, but if that's the case, it's specified. No one is surprised when the whole night is spent just caring for each other. The 'code' means you're starting at an ultra-low place that day or night, but with understanding and respect, you always balance back out.

And finally, a freebie for shiggles: Steve finds flatulence hysterical. Not all potty humor, not jokes in bad taste, but he just cannot keep it together if he or someone else farts. I'm sorry, he can't. It's too funny. The noises???? He's dying laughing.

The team at some point figures this out, and at a dinner at your home--a perfectly reputable affair with proper china and all--the group proceeded to fake (or not fake) fart noises. Steve almost peed himself. Tears of joy were streaming down his face. It was adorable.

See, he doesn't care that it happens; the human body is the human body is the human body. Obviously, he can be concerned if there's like a medical issue, and he's allowed to poke a little fun if your toots (or his) smell, but mostly...he just finds them hilarious.

That is the most childish thing about Steve Rogers, a holdover from a bygone era, and that's kinda the best part. After all he's been through, Steve has an inner child. He just needs to let it rip! 🤭😂

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[piko-rose]

A Masterpost Of All My Sonic Fics and Headcanons So Far

Edited this post to add some other stuff of mine that doesn't involved fanfics.

I didn't include ALL of my fics because the first few ones I did when I started my blog were cringe as hell lmao

My Fanfics/Drabbles

Sonic Movie Series Fics

Enter Gamma - The Wachowski Bros try to come up with a new name for their new fiend UNIT. (Set after Sonic Drone Home.)

Sonic's Dream - Dreams are mysterious. They can be good or they can be bad. Sonic enjoys good dreams, whether their about running, chili dogs or his family. …But he despises bad dreams. Sometimes their about deep waters, the dark… Or being alone all over again. (Set after Movie 1.)

Sonic Told A Dumb Joke... - Sonic begins to realize that humoring up his brothers makes him come off as annoying, and vows to never say another word. (Set after Movie 2. Unsure if I'll make a part 2 since this might need some reworking.)

Sonic and Tails Talk About Tom and Maddie - Tails was confused by the way Sonic talks about Tom and Maddie. If they're not his parents, then what are they to him? (Set during Movie 2 before the dance battle sequence.)

Under the Moonlight - After hearing a ghost story about Dark Gaia, Sonic transforms into the Werehog in the middle of the night and must find a way to turn back to normal while before he looses control of himself. (Set after Movie 1. Currently thinking about reworking this fic in the future.)

Heroes Don't Fail - After Tom fell ill due to protecting him from a bullet, Sonic was left to wonder if his own friends had any faith in him to begin with during their most dangerous adventure yet. He was left to wonder if him and Shadow had more of a similarity than he thought. (Movie 3 Headcanon fic. VERY outdated now but there are some writing bits I really enjoy here that I might bring back in the future.)

Modern Sonic Fics

Rose Gold - Sonic was horrified by Amy doing all she can to make sure her hero stays alive, no matter the cost. (Platonic Sonic/Amy fic.)

What Big Brothers Fear The Most - Sonic had an unpleasant dream about the worst case scenario for any little brother in the world. Specifically, Tails. (Unbreakable Bond fic.)

Without One Another (Aftermath Of What Big Brothers Fear The Most) - Sonic talks about his nightmare to Tails, while confessing a fear greater than deep waters. (Unbreakable Bond fic.)

A Talk Between Two Hedgehogs - Shadow felt strangely guilty about his outburst at Sonic, and wanted to chat with him. (Sonic/Shadow fic.)

My Headcanons and Rambles About Characters and Ships

Sonic Movie Series

Sonic Movie 2's Official Timeline I Think? (I'm Planning On Reworking This Post)

Rambling About Sonic and Knuckles' Dynamic Throughout Movie 2

Sonic's Thinking Process While He Was Stuck And Couldn't Reach for Tom, Maddie and Tails (and what happens afterwards 😈)

Modern Sonic

Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down And Their Current Dynamic

If Sonic Found Out About What Amy's Going Through

Sleepy Sonic Headcanons (I edited this post because there are some words here that I used wrong and some more stuff I should've added lol) (Also Some Art Based On These Headcanons By @/sparkles-rule-4eva Thank You Dude XD but the reblog doesn't have the updates I've added on the post so I apologize for that DX)

Sonic Crying Out Shadow's Name In Sonic Prime And How It Drove Me Crazy

More to add soon.

[taag-the-withering]

Whitepine Episode 6….

Friends and Fiends I think the detective might be coming back…

Noticed something about the consistent use of the colour yellow. The thumbnails of the first and now sixth videos are both themed around yellow, the cathedral being yellow, the sunflower pins, Pyro’s bedroom… I wonder if we are going to see any more this episode

Also, I need to check back, but the use of static, especially from ep4, I’m interested in seeing if we get more of that AND if the static goes back to other videos of Ivory’s

Ivory and Serapter are back on the roof, it appears to be they like to meet there?

Talking about Ivo leaving I see...

Bit leaving the estate? Wearing something different... hmmm

Is Serapter nervous about Bit leaving? Why would he be?

What's with the significance of Clown, with the mail I presume? Where's he going?? Oh his office-

WHAT WHAT WHAT

Ok that had to be some kind of significant news, enough to seem to have emotional affect?

Civil war era, interesting. I wonder if this is the same war Clown and Reddoons were in?

Detective mention #1...

Muu being wary of the detective is something, because any claims that he might make, Muu might counter against due to his persistant pushing.

Zombie is writing an autobiography, hmm...

Zolister going "how fitting" and right after the glass shattered, bro I said there's the possibility of another death soon but this might be closer than originally thought

Oh the hunt is being brought back up, and who exactly is Lucas?

So Muu is a painter, and this is the first mention of a grandmother

Are Muu and Zam going to combine their experiences with the detective?

This is the first time we seemed to have seen the ballroom, I don't remember if it showed up in the first episode or not

Zolister looking at the woods?

We're seeing instances of yellow flowers again in this sequence

ARE THEY SHARING THEIR EXPERIENCES WITH THE DETECTIVE PLEASE BE THAT

Door sequence, AGAIN, this hasn't happened since episode 2, and Lacebark Pine from episode 2 is coming back in this episode based the description

WHAT PYRO

Wait I forget half the people's skins, who was crouching in the servant’s hallway by the stairs to the basement right after the stuff with Pyro started?

That's Div in the woods right?

WHAT ZOMBIE NO WAY THAT'S AWFUL AND WILD

Detective Counter #2

Did Muu and Zam bring the detective back or is this on his own accord?

Only the maids, this is such an excuse to just target Ivory, my bro you are not subtle

The use of pure silence again, another callback to episode 2

He slammed his fist against the table!?

Okay so it's been a few weeks

MINUTETECH MENTION YOO

BRO LEAVE HER ALONE, she came in with the clothes on her back, an axe??

Ivo mention, riggghhht.

Monster and teeth.. huh

LEAVE HER ALONE

NO

Aww Ivory and Loppezz, Lopezz better not die

Here's Lacebark Pine back, did it play when they were walking back the first time from the detective's office?

Vi! They're going back to the field

OMG THEY ARE GONNA BLOW IT UP

Interesting ending shot...

[kaija-rayne-author]

Section 12 in review of Dragon Age Veilguard

96 Hours in, 94 hours playtime..

Obligatory disclaimer, feel free to jump to the cut if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I'm on media blackout while I play this, so I'm only getting second-hand info on how awful it is right now in the DA Fandom. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Spoilers for Dragon Age Veilguard (and other Dragon Age stuff, I'm a Lore fiend.)

Section 11 is here.

So, the whole Mourn watch section with the half Lich was very well written and put together. Had an interesting (if not difficult) puzzle and a poignant ending. Loved it.

Did the Treviso sequence where Illario gets his comeuppance. Even though it's a very stale plot idea, it was so very well written and executed (har har) that it's a shame they fired Lucanis's writer. (Mary Kirby wrote Lucanis.)

They probably should've kept her and let her write a lot more than that. The game would've been so much better. It might’ve actually approached good.

Instead of something that when my partner saw me loading it up he said 'wow, you look like you're about to be tortured'.

Rueful face. So much of this game has felt like torture that having two sections on the same day that were legitimately good is odd.

The ones with Taash in Rivain were fun or sad, depending. But still well written and put together.

Still seem to have more to do. Gonna play for a few more hours. It's rare and nice that it's actually curiosity I'm feeling while logging in tonight, vs. any of the gamut of yucky emotions this game has treated me to.

Oh! Before I forget and in the name of attempting to provide a fair review, I do really love the light puzzles and ancient elven tech stuff. That's been a great deal of fun.

There are good parts to this game, but they just don't make up for the shit.

...

A. Single. Meaningful. Glance. As an intimate scene? Fucking DAO had better than that! Are they serious? Is there more in the final sequence? Dear gods, if I'd paid for this game I'd be bloody furious. Incandescently, explosively furious.

Let's talk about consumer expectation. It's something anyone hoping to sell things has to be aware of.

In its, what, 14 year Dragon Age history? Bioware has set certain expectations with their market share. As I mentioned, DAO, while dated and with poor graphics, actually had something extremely suggestive for the intimate scenes. You had no doubt what the characters were doing. Same went for DA2. Not much actual nudity, but again, no bloody question about what was going on. In DAI, some was sweet, some was saucy, but it was even more clear what was happening.

So the expectation for a behind door scene that you got to see has been set. If there had always been fade to black meaningful stares for the intimate scenes, fine, whatever. But that has not been Bioware's history. And it certainly isn't their gaming market's expectation.

Expectation isn't as important in a standalone game. There's no weight of expectation like there is in series work. Unfortunately for everyone who bought this game, the expectation of so many years and so much material has been firmly set. And a long, searching, intense look doesn't cut it. Are all the Romances like that? I don't have the stomach to replay it that many times to find out.

I still have to finish the final sequence. So it's possible my utter disappointment will be fixed, but given the way Bioware has structured its games in the past, the Romance parts were finished before the final sequence.

My level of disappointment with this game has been high all along, but this is indeed the shit cherry on top of the shit sundae of this game.

Hah! And to think I'd actually hoped for an intimate scene between Solas and Inky! (Hysterical, breathless, cackling. OMFG.)

The problem with market expectation? And not meeting it? Is that you utterly lose the confidence and trust of the people who buy your stuff. And that means they're less likely to buy your stuff again. I certainly won't ever buy anything Bioware makes again. I'm out. I'll enjoy the previous games, but if I'm right about my predictions? Veilguard doesn't exist as part of my universe. I'll pretend it wasn’t ever made. Unless I decide to write a long fix-it fic. Because OMFG.

If, as an author, I shifted from rather explicit, panties-melting intimate scenes to closed door fade to black... I would be betraying my reader's expectations and losing their trust.

If this is it for the intimate scenes? Oh man. Bioware, you fucked up.

Pre-play pithy commentary

If you want to skip the snarky paragraph ^?

13th review here.

[cafeleningrad]

thank you for the analysis on Thomas' character! It was very insightful. He's my favourite character in the movie, but there's so much ungenuine readings of his character it's frustrating 😞. From people who think he's a villain in this story (wtf) to people who believe Ellen never actually loved him (lol). A lot of people also completely disregard his character (mainly for shipping purposes, but it's not any less annoying) or can't even tell what his issues are and make stuff up that's not even supported by the movie itself. As if he's not one of the main characters and the entire first half of the movie isn't about his victimisation.

Hejhej Anon, it was my verbose pleasure. ;D

To be quiet honest, shipping discourses do sour every fandom experience, mostly because some discussions retreat into juvenile instincts charading with grown-up language.

It's then more about playing goth Barbie's dream date with differently style Kenndolls, and so the characters get projected on different traits fitting into the story the play should represent for the player. Well fine, but I don't think ever was that subtle or deep with this movie. (And the amount of takes uninterested in looking a bit further -ironically, in spite of Eggers being known and executing very carefully historical accuracy whereever possible- shows by not even paying attention to the fact that the cast are and movie in German Biedermeier society but get called and treated like British "Victorians". Thus leading to inaccurate analysis.)

Safe to say, that I currently don't really like to engage with the fandom or discussions about the movie, mostly because I bought my theater ticket for very different reasons than "the Gothique". For all who enjoy monster romance, please enjoy them. My primary interest was that I like Eggers skripts, and his atmospheric horror, and historical detailed research, and I'm a big fan of Babelsberg era movies. (German expressionist cinema was so unbelievably influential on movie history. Not only for the many creative workers fleeing the Nazis and bringing their talent to Hollywood, Disney's most iconic animation sequences were stolen from largely inspired by Lang's work with lightning. By any means, watch "M", and it turns out every thriller after it hits the same plot beat, the same themes (for better or for worse), just the filming style changed.) And boy does Eggers play Easter Egg hunt for fans of the original in this movie! But I'm also wary of changes Eggers made, and in the over all context of the movie, it's history, it's screening time, especially the context around it, kinda missed the mark. Most of all, I'm a bit disappointment how linear the dialogue is. It leaves little room for ambiguity, lingering unease of the grander sphere of Wisborg, the world getting threatened by Orlock's presence. It also looses the poetic cinematic language from 1922 in which the image, or better the symbolism the image creates, speaks for itself. In 2024, Dr. von Frantz, and the Schema-nun couldn't have duetted more what kind of fearsome fiend Orlock is.

To say, many watched the movie for being a 1830s setting horror film (period aesthetics), they like vampires, Lily Rose Depp has the face and role to make sad girl coquette posts about - super fine reasons to watch a movie because different interests pull different people into the cinema. And I really hope the success will guarantee Eggers continuing his work. Where I see interpretations fail is not realizing that this movie is primarily a remake, and Eggers was still working along a story structure of a monster that breaks apart modernity as well as the assumed safety of the domestic sphere. In his movie, Eggers flips the idyll of imagined domesticity on it's head by having the home be unsafe in the first place. Moreso, Eggers was interested in exploring the character of Ellen Hutter who, in 1922, dies a noble yet unheroic death because in times of plague or social collapse no heroism can truly exist. And here's also a friction between Eggers' re-imagined domestic horror and the 1922 original which was about a structural social collapse, echoing the immediate trauma about surviving WWI, Germany being in an absolute state of mess after it, the abdication of the Hohernzollern family, surviving the Spanish flu pandemic, and being in the midst of a inflation that skyrocketed beyond the stratosphere. And all these fears of that time influenced the story functions of the changes Henrik Galeen made to the script, and in creating their own story. (That's why I resist very much the idea that Nosferatu 1922, or Nosferatu 2024 are "another Dracula interpretation" because it works on very different themes, Orlock represents different fears for a German audience in the 1920s, than Dracula to a British audience in the 1890s, the ending is massively different because they follow different themes, and Orlock is massively desexed to signal his monstrosity lying in death and decay he should represent. I mean, for everyone getting hot and bothered over Max Schreck, or Bill Skarsgård in their costumes respectively, seriously have fun, I genuinely mean it. But let's be real, the creative team did very much intended to make Orlock look repulsive.)

Oh, last but not least, Eggers movies are strongly contextual within their historical background. Katherine in "the VVitch" is the perfect victim by the devil to be groomed because she grows up in a zealous, oppressive community - with her father exiled she basically has no future prospects. (Hence her ending being tragic for her, not liberating.) "The Northman" is a straight up attempt at a saga version of the Danish myth of Hamlet. Hence why themes of fate and providence are concepts people take so seriously within this story.

So that's a long round-about way to get to Thomas: Thomas is never set out to be the hero, but Orlock is definitely the monster as harbringer of death, collapse, and pandemic. The horror in 1922 lay in the tragedy of a young couple wanting to start their life together yet the forces of nature and death rip them apart. And I tell you, in 1920s Germany, Ellen and Thomas were kissing and hugging at every occasion. But most of all, Thomas was an easily understandable protagonist to follow in 1922. He too was full of hope - and in dire need for money. The original movie stresses in an exposition card how well Knock pays his employees, no matter how much more ostentatiously "weird" Herr Knock's entire appearance is. To a 1920s German audience, a young man needing to leave his wife for making money would have made much more initial sense. And you know, in 2024/25 with rising inflation levels, and job insecurity, it does strike me as weird how many takes on Thomas do not take the financial insecurity into account in Thomas' actions. No, he's not career jockey. In fact the movie exposes how Thomas is financially indebted to Friedrich Harding (although Friedrich is being gracious about that matter), and at the bottom of the pecking order at work. There is so, so, so much more to say how the political landscape informs the human characters' values - and how the strain of fiances strain or ease their circumstances. @abbenai has written a wonderful post about how the historical context webs in the characters in regards of politics and finances which I highly recommend to read. X Finances, existential worries about money can gravely interfere with time and possibility for love, care, and affection. That already is a worrying factor for the Hutter household.

Everyone is confined by their times. Even Orlock is the creature of a time in which nobility had absolute rule. Hence he sets up a contract over Ellen's body not letting her voice count. He wants, he receives. He also bosses Herr Knock around without hesitance. The entire movie is very clear that living in the real world is an arduous fight for Ellen, especially when Thomas is gone. (At some point Anna and Thomas have split function, hence the "Harold, they're..." vibes between her and Ellen.) Thomas and Anna are also limited in their time in which, unlike Friedrich and Dr. Sievers showcase a lot of love for Ellen - Ellen's nervosity, breakdowns, and moodswings aren't to be scorned but the tended for.Husband, and best friend can not make anything better because they only can think of consolation. Behind it their intention to see Ellen cheered up. Their ignorance stems from them living relatively adjusted lives (Anna is almost a caricature in her hyper gender performance, looking angelic, pious, endlessly loving, having given birth twice (Louise and Clara seemingly children that did survive their infancy), eagerly awaiting birth of child no.3) who can't fathom anything that could shake up a person so deeply even echoing in their adult life. Yeah, with faults but well-intentioned. And Ellen often clings onto these too when feeling lost because they do actually help her to calm her down.

The turn comes after Thomas himself lives from the almost same horrors with Orlock. Now he truly understands what Ellen went through that she's haunted, and why. However, For him it's even more reason to care for her because now he finally understands her. "Let me go. I'm unclean." "Never."

By all means, it's questionable how easy life would have been for Ellen had she survived with Thomas in the real world burdened with the death of their friends, a society in which women had no perceived personhood, even less so any rights, Ellen getting bombarded with intimate questions about pregnancy and child bearing just shortly after Thomas and her got married. The alternative would be to be eaten away by an entity that openly states that it can not love, and wants Ellen to submit. In contrast Thomas is a relatively chill guy for his time, not pressuring Ellen to have sex or children (in fact Ellen initiates sex), and unlike man-of-his-time-peak-performer Friedrich, doesn't get annoyed with but stays loyal to Ellen. In life Ellen had Greta, had Anna, palyed with Louisa and Clara. And even when disaster struck, Ellen found unexpectedly understanding in Dr. von Frantz. In many ways, life was hard but not void of joy or worth to Ellen. Even in the most dire, insecure, harrowing times, having been badly scarred before, Ellen still finds a lover, a friend, a cat, and a an unexpected stranger that don't make her feel lonely and abandoned. That's the entire worth of Thomas Hutter and Anna Harding.

But yeah, shipping discourse is not really worth getting into. And at some point I think the movie doesn't hold this much substance to be discussed so thouroughly, especially not in it's love triangle dynamic. There, the discussion material exhausts itself quickly as the movie is not subtle about the characters' actions, Orlock's symbolism, and their intentions.

[archive-of-artprompts]

🐺Werewolf! Send in a number + character/s, and I'll draw/write them with that Werewolf trope 🐺

(Tropes from TV tropes 📺 - link - link - link)

Absurdly Sharp Claws - Claws that are unrealistically sharp.

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing - Something evil disguised as something innocent.

The Ageless - Characters who can't die from old age but can still be killed through other means.

Alternate Identity Amnesia - A character suffers from amnesia when changing form or self.

Beast Man - A humanoid character with animal traits.

Body Horror - Grotesque body structures, human or otherwise.

Cute Little Fangs- Small fangs used to denote cuteness.

Fangs Are Evil - Fanged creatures portrayed as evil.

Forced Transformation - A character is transformed into a shape that renders them powerless or impairs their ability to pursue their goals.

Fully-Embraced Fiend - A vampire, werewolf, or similar creature embraces their monstrous nature rather than fight it.

Fur Against Fang - Vampires and werewolves fighting each other.

Horror Hunger - When a character feels a supernatural and irresistible hunger for other humans.

Howl of Sorrow - Giving an animal-like cry/scream, such as a howl, when faced with something upsetting.

Hulking Out - Shapeshifting when angry and often going on a rampage afterwards.

Human-to-Werewolf Footprints - When a set of animal footprints changes into human footprints, or vice versa.

I Am a Monster - When someone admits that they are a monster, especially after becoming one.

I Just Want to Be Normal - When a character thinks that whatever makes them different is a curse.

Immortality - Werebeasts are sometimes depicted as being able to live forever.

Involuntary Shapeshifting - Werebeasts often have little or no control over their transformations.

Little Red Howling Wolf - A version of Little Red Riding Hood which is also some type of wolf creature.

Long-Lived - Werebeasts may sometimes have longer lifespans.

Lunacy - The appearance of the (full) moon at night often triggers a werebeast's transformation.

My Instincts Are Showing - When a sentient and civilized non-human character involuntarily—and undesirably—exhibits occasional feral behavior that's associated with their species.

Noble Wolf - Wolves as proud, noble, dignified, intelligent and usually reasonable.

Painful Transformation - When shapeshifting causes pain.

Papa Wolf - Messing with this dad's children is a very bad idea.

Personality Remnant - A person changing in mind and body still has some of their old personality quirks or loyalties

Resist the Beast - When an ordinary person tries to resist changing into a monster.

Savage Wolves - Wolves as nasty, savage, rapacious predators; if intelligent, may be sadistic and cruel, as well.

Silver Bullet - Silver being used as a Supernatural Repellent. In many works, silver is the only way to properly kill a werewolf

The Big Bad Wolf - Characters based on the Big, Bad Wolf from Red Riding Hood and/or The Three Little Pigs.

This Was His True Form - When shapeshifters return to their true form upon death.

Transformation Horror - Graphic and unsettling transformation sequences.

Transhuman Treachery - A person who is turned into a monster, such as a werebeast, decides that they would like to stay that way and become evil/betray humanity in the process.

Vampire-Werewolf Love Triangle - A Love Triangle involving a vampire and a werewolf.

Vampiric Werewolf - A Hybrid Monster that is both a lycanthrope and a hematophage.

Van Helsing Hate Crimes -  Killing monsters just because they're monsters, regardless of if they're good or evil.

Viral Transformation -  A transformation that can be spread virally and physically changes humans to non-humans.

Virus-Victim Symptoms - When a character exhibits strange behavior and physical changes due to a transformation.

Voluntary Shapeshifting - When a character can change their form at will.

Was Once a Man - A non-human character who used to be a normal human.

Werewolf Kennel - Restraining a werewolf during their transformation to prevent rampaging.

Werewolves Are Dogs - Werewolves often act more like domesticated dogs than wild wolves.

White Wolves Are Special - A wolf is of importance and often goodness as indicated by their white coat.

Wolf Man - A canine-like humanoid.

Wolves Always Howl at the Moon - Werewolves often howl at the moon, especially right after they transform.

Wonderful Werewolf - A werewolf that's friendly.

[aspiringsophrosyne]

Vox Machina and The Mighty Nein: which has the easiest story to adapt?

In the wake of the CRew announcing the Mighty Nein animated series, a perplexing take keeps surfacing and resurfacing.

The consensus is that adapting the first Critical Role stream will be simpler than adapting the second. The protagonists of the former are more traditionally heroic and badass, there��s more to the plot of their story, and the pacing is better suited to an animated show.

However, is all that true? And if it is, does it make adapting C2 harder?

Let's look at that first point. Is Vox Machina more traditionally heroic and badass than the Nein?

(spoilers for both campaigns under the cut)

What they have in common.

The Nein:

Came up with several wacky schemes, most notably their multiple attempts to neutralize enemies with polymorph. These only worked about half the time. The other half, the enemies stayed just as big a problem, or became even more of a problem. For example: the fire giant turned cow that attacked Fjord, the zombie giant turned giant snapping turtle that bit Caleb, and the Dragon Turtle turned into a regular sea turtle that was faster and thus harder to outrun.

Missed spot checks when making plans. This landed them in progressively hotter water that they could only escape through luck, quick thinking, and improv: stealing Avantika’s journal, meeting with the Bright Queen, the Asylum heist, and the King’s Cage.

They ran from fights when things got pear-shaped: the blue dragon in the Happy Fun Ball, again the King’s Cage, and the Tomb Takers.

But what about Vox Machina? Vox Machina’s concocted wacky schemes of their own.

They dropped in from above on a boss to bypass a dungeon, Vax and Scanlan poorly deployed Dimension Door to fight Umbrasyl, and the group summoned a Goristro to fight Vorugal for them and ended up fighting both.

Vox Machina has also missed spot checks. There was Scanlan’s ill-planned mission at the Duke’s place in Whitestone, Vax’s attack on Raishan right after finishing Thordak (which prompted her to dump a Meteor Swarm, which does 20d6 fire damage and 20d6 bludgeoning damage on a failed save, on their brutalized and depleted heads) and the group used up two resurrection spells before the final battle after falling for Vecna’s trick.

Vox Machina has shown their own hesitancy and has also run from fights. They tried everything they could to not directly confront Grog's herd until their deceptions failed. They gave Umbrasyl time to rest so that they could rest. They retreated from Whitestone before Keyleth turned back and Pike returned. They ran from a Pit Fiend who only had 22 hit points left. And they fled after their first disastrous fight with Vecna.

In terms of wackiness, that's not even getting into the shit Grog and Tary got up to in Vasselheim. Or Scanlan’s fruitless pursuit of Marquesian drugs. Or pre-stream events, like Vox Machina killing that kid.

VM can be equally as wacky, unheroic, and gun-shy as the Nein.

Where they differentiate 1: plot points.

As for their respective narratives, while Vox Machina was less of a sandbox and had a more defined plot than The Mighty Nein did, that isn’t necessarily an advantage or disadvantage in an adaptation. In the first two seasons of TLOVM, for example, there was never a shortage of dangerous encounters or events to animate. And because the show only has so much time, the pace was pretty brisk, so there isn't a lot of time for things to get dull, slow or boring. On the other hand, even with multiple events cut or moved, Vox Machina had almost no time for talking to each other (and what time they had, the show didn't make particular use of) or character development.

For the Mighty Nein, the pacing is slower, but if they want to, the writers and editors can move events around in the timeline and add or lengthen action sequences to keep the pace brisk. And this gives the character moments more time, which is good because these are essential for both casts but will be especially important for the Nein. Especially early on, given what's going to happen. The Nein's story is far more character-focused, so while a slower pace can be negated, it might not be desired, because it might serve a different kind of story better.

Where they differentiate 2: thematic consistency.

One thing the Mighty Nein inarguably has over Vox Machina is incredibly strong theming: autonomy in general (and bodily autonomy specifically), identity, freedom, redemption, trauma, and healing from it… Almost every major enemy (Lorenzo, Avantika/Uk’otoa, Obann/TCO, Isharnei, Trent, Vokodo, and the Somonvem/the Nonagon) is a subverter of these goals and themes.

On the other hand, Vox Machina's story has no similarly clear-cut themes. That's not necessarily a bad thing! But it gives the animated series less to build itself around or use as a lodestar. You can see TLOVM trying to shoehorn “Let’s stop running away from our problems,“ into that role, but it just doesn’t work. Because that wasn’t a theme of the original stream and because animated VM hasn't actually run from anything. So that makes for an ill-fitting theme and a poor foundation for the rest of the story.

Where they differentiate 3: power and privilege.

VM had many people backing them up: the lovely lady Allura, they had the ear of the good King Uriel, and later Kima, Zahra, Kashaw, and Kerrek. And while Vox Machina fought hard-won battles and suffered the heartache of defeat and loss, their influential allies gave Vox Machina support, officially lauded them, and recognized them for their victories.

The Nein, in contrast, had almost no unambiguously trustworthy patrons or allies. (Their contacts: the Gentlemen, Avantika, Essek in particular, the Bright Queen’s court in general, and Yussa, to name just a few.) Contrasting Vox Machina’s relationship with Uriel, King Dwendal and his court came this close to scapegoating the Nein for the catastrophe at the Chantry of the Dawn, and their subsequent accomplishments go largely unnoticed by the world.

Vox Machina had (and still has) privileges that the Nein did not, including people in authority who helped them, fought with them, and acknowledged their great deeds and sacrifices.

My theory is that the Nein and Vox Machina are seen as being more different than they are because of how each respective group is treated in their universe. Some fans take Vox Machina's hype and esteem (and the Nein’s lack thereof) at face value instead of scrutinizing who these characters actually are. Or taking their circumstances into account.

Too few consider how much harder it is to be a hero in Wildemount as opposed to Tal'dorei. And that's a pretty big factor in why the two groups are the way they are. And why they're perceived, in-universe and out, the way they are.

This is not to say this makes one better than the other. What I love about both VM and TM9 is that they're packs of perpetually feral disaster children. Disparate fuckups who become ride-or-die for their chosen family and save their world from The Horrors despite all their personal hang-ups. To me, discounting VM’s fuck-uppery discounts a significant part of their appeal and relatability, which does them a disservice.

And this aspect that both groups share isn't as huge of a problem for their respective adaptations as people think.

[yinyuedijun]

totally here for the fucked up relationships between characters. i wish to be truly disgusted and weirded out by their behavior

makima is really just a big loser with no friends to tell her when she’s doing stupid shit

you think aki feels a little guilty because bb only met makima and himeno when she followed him into public safety?

dying at the description of makima 😭😭😭 she's my meowmeow leave her alone!!!!!!! but yes she is lowkey a loser rip. also this is fic is objectively disgusting and weird after she joins public safety AGLSJSLDJW so you may be the one (1) person who would enjoy it 😭

I'm not sure if you caught it in the prologue but the reader actually joined public safety before aki! this makes his guilt for her a little weird; she got exploited completely separately to him.

in case you're curious, this was the sequence of events for her joining public safety (major fic spoilers) and getting groomed:

> reader gets adopted out of the orphanage and moves to tokyo by a seemingly lovely single father (he lost his kid due to the gun devil, misses being a dad hence the adoption)

> aki is still in hokkaido for school at this point, so they are separated

> reader's adopted father tries to sacrifice her to the heart devil; she makes a contract with the heart devil instead and kills him

> makima finds her, takes her in, and starts to groom her, thereby changing her as a person

> by the time aki gets to tokyo and joins public safety, the reader already feels like a different person to him. he is super horrified at what she has to do with her job, perceiving it as sex trafficking, but thanks to being groomed and her exposure to sex work at the orphanage, the reader doesn't see anything wrong with it. her relationship with her sexuality gets really distorted because of her work, which makes her vulnerable to himeno. this girl just wants to have consensual sex with someone who loves her and she thinks it'll be himeno but it's not.

so basically, it was entirely out of aki's control what happened to her. he just beats himself over it because he feels like he failed to protect her (triggers his inadequate older brother trauma/survivor's guilt) and strongly regrets letting her leave for tokyo. he's yandere as fuck toward her as the gun fiend and literally never lets her leave his sight btw

[cuttyclowngirl]

Daima EP.4 (Spoiler) review/theories

• My bad Glorio, I wasn't familiar with your game. He actually can fly & is a league stronger than I thought. I was wrong. Good. He's even more fascinating than before. How does a demon from the 3rd world obtain such strength? Why would he need it if he was a simple bounty hunter/assassin as viewers suspect? All that & he can't sense ki?

• Glorio & Shin's (Supreme Kai's) "U can't fool me" dynamic continues to grow ever more tense. Who's going to crack first?

• Glorio sorta gave up on on finding his plane almost immediately in favor of finding a new vehicle. Was the plane even his to begin with? He also doesn't seem to care that about being late to see King Kandan. The nearest Tamagami is miles in the opposite direction they've been heading so far & Glorio still insisted they just gather the balls instead of prioritizing the meeting with Kadan, which tells me he never actually intended to see the 3rd world King & probably wasn't sent by King Kadan.

• Glorio suddenly switching up & almost insisting they gather the balls, coupled with that "All according to plan" smirk/hmph is further feeding into my theory about him working for Dr Arinsu. (There were two shots in the conversation where Glorio's eyes are suspiciously off screen) She was probably watching on a Magic Monitor & sent Glorio a telepathic message/order.

• The shopkeeper couple are absolutely lovely "one & done" type silly characters. Love their designs, their bits, their voices & interactions. I hope they'll be featured in future video games. (Glorio is such an experienced haggler, he even saw through a not so obvious deafness trick. Tells me Glorio socializes a lot.)

• "Medi Bugs". Toriyama never missed an opportunity to remind everyone that JRPGs were one of his special interests, huh? Revive Bug restores stamina. (Compared to Senzu, but wasn't stated to have healing properties. Let's remember that.) Achichi Bug heals burns, Zutsu Bug cures headaches, Beaut Bugs make your skin silky. JOIN BUG: "Feed halves to 2 people & they can fuse for a while". Introducing a Demon Realm exclusive type fusion. Can't wait to see what it looks like.

• Aside from the multiple unnamed Medi Bugs Goku made Glorio ("Goliro" lmao) buy, which we saw in his bag, the shopkeeper lady said they had "most of the different types of Medi Bugs", meaning even more might be introduced later. She also called the Medi Bugs "souvenirs" so they're clearly not rare/hard to find.

• The heavy air yields yet another obstacle in the form of even lower mobility in any attempt at flying at high speeds. "It expends a lot of energy & will tire you out quickly".

• Poor Shin has to keep Goku on task like a kid on a leash, reminding him that the main mission is rescuing baby Dende.

• As I had hoped, the Tamagamis are strong, even by Glorio's standards to the point he's never heard of anyone gathering all 3 balls. So Goku & crew will be the first in ages to do so.

• Demons apparently believe their set of D balls are the originals. Fandom discourse fuel right there.

• "Sky seeds". Shin said he's never heard of one, meaning the "Great Fiend Flower" & their Sky seeds are 3rd world exclusive. The whimsical orchestral cover of Jaka Jann coupled with Goku's attitude throughout the Sky seed riding sequence was pure dragon ball charm. (I got a lil emotional.)

• The Supreme King's military police are called "Gendarmerie" a word derived from the medieval French phrase "gens d'armes" meaning "Men-at-arms".

• Finding out that the red Magic Collars we've seen several demons already wearing are actually oppression devices really hurt me when I remembered that those lovely shopkeepers were wearing them too... I think the scarf Panzy wears is either hiding her collar or concealing an awful scar caused by her manually removing her's that she'd rather no one see.

• What could the life force sucked out of poor demons by that awful machine possibly be for? Keeping the Supreme King young and strong? Like in "Go Go Ackman" where the souls of dead humans kept the demon king young & strong?

•Goku & crew are fugitives now. The obstacles just keep staking. (Bulma's def gonna yell at someone.)

• Panzy seems to be your classic plucky eccentric rebel who's inventions only work half the time, which already sorta sets her apart from Bulma the giga genius & GT's Pan. I look forward to her future antics & discovering her motivation for traveling with Goku & crew. (She should either learn how to fly or make herself a pair of roller skates for quick getaways.) There seemed to be some focus on her eyes. Could her eye color be an additional plot point? I don't remember any other demon having purple eyes like her's specifically, but I'm probably reading into it too much.

[meatball-headache]

Okay, as promised, I tried out the Mushroom Musume demo—and I really like it. It's free, so you have nothing to lose by trying it, but the game itself is only $15, so, you could support an indie team if you want.

So, it plays very much like a visual novel, but I think it's randomized like a rougelike, but you get frequent choices. I don't have a lot of experience with visual novels, but it's got the same Save - Load - Auto - Skip bar at the bottom of the text window that DDLC had. But, it's also got panels of RPG stats and inventories and stuff.

The writing is very good and charming—which is good, because it's a text-heavy game. You can see your character in the stats window but there's no characters popping up in the scenes like a VN, even when there's a lot of dialogue. You're on your own with your imagination. But the writing is good, albeit there's a handful of grammatical errors, but I comma splice like a fiend so I can't complain. It's got an eerie but charming feel, sometimes a little silly, sometimes a little strange and dreamish.

So, at the beginning of the game, "Once upon a time there was a Recluse." The Recluse is lonely and wants a child, and a witch will give you a child. You perform some tasks for the witch, and obviously this influences what kind of mushroom musume you get—for those who aren't full-blown weebs, "musume" means "daughter." You can't have a mushroom son, sorry. But anyway, I made some choices that would make her pretty gloomy and gothy, and then tried to raise her as best I can... and after a while, she decided I didn't love her, and she ran away from home. But then—then I got to play as her! I thought I'd be raising her the whole game, but then I became her. Does this always happen? Or was it just because of the choices I made? I don't know.

So the seasons go by, and you get an event every, I'll just say "every day" even though each season is like three days, and you can solve the event by picking a card. Depending on your traits or inventory, you might have access to more or less cards. For instance, I had some magical affinity, so I had a special Spell card in my inventory, so some events, rather than just the baked-in choices it gave me, I could also use a Spell to solve it.

You might notice this screenshot is a lot dimmer than the first two. That's because I unlocked the "black" color, and the whole game tints blackish. (You can turn this off in the menu. There's some accessibility options, like changing it to a dyslexia-friendly font, and having text-to-speech, not voice acting, like TikTok voice.)

There's a lot of collectibles in the Almanac—there's many different mushrooms your daughter can be, different music you can collect somehow, the colors like this, and 34 different endings—in the demo. There's also a tracker for how many living daughters you have, and how many have fallen. So, there's some kind of persistent world throughout runs? Or, just recording how many "good" and "bad" endings you got?

At the end of the demo, there's some dialogue talking about what's going to be in the full game: some minigames you can do between runs (it's a roguelike, there are "runs") and "double the writing"—I don't know how much is in the demo, I'm guessing all my events were random and not everyone's going to get the same sequence of events, so either the demo is very small and the complete game will be somewhat small, or the demo is very big and the complete game will be very big. Either way, I thought the little preview at the end was pretty cool.

So, what happened? Well, my gloomy goth mushroom daughter was very quiet and distant, and hid all the time. I tried to give her space and wait for her to make her own decisions... she interpreted this as not being loved, so she left. Okay. Once she was on her own and I was her, she went to a town where she overhead some children talk about getting money from the tooth fairy. Since she needed money, she decided to rip her teeth out of her head, put them under her pillow (while the screen shows her "camp," a pile of rocks in the woods, no pillow in sight) and wait until morning. She got woken up by the Tooth Fairy Local 101 saying something like "Youze thought you could pulls a fast one on us? Dis ain't no tooth, sistah!" I didn't get any screenshots of the dialogue, I was honestly giggling too much. Honestly, I could screenshot every line from this game, because it all seems remarkable, wacky, eerie, or just somehow cool.

Later, a timid woman invited me to a school to meet some children. The children asked me questions, like whether I eat people, and I answered honestly, but the parents got annoyed. After everyone left, the timid woman came up to me and ranted, "I thought you would be more interesting! Why didn't you scare them!?" Humans are difficult to understand!

Then I tried to hunt a wolf and died.

So, ultimately, I like this game. It's very charming and interesting. There's a free demo, and with 34 endings just in the demo, I think it must have a lot to offer, so you can try it. The game is $15 so I'm going to buy it, I don't know if I'm going to play it a ton—I still have to grind everything in FFXIV, Warframe, Soulframe, and I'm trying to bring LOTRO into the rotation, too—but, I'm looking at it and thinking, I want to reward the folks who made this because it's interesting.

Okay! That's all for now.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Over the bluegreen frog eyes on that”)

A ballad sequence

               I

A presents grudge, an end: and shine     a little babe freër under-showers. How have been, and     a man that I canna

hae luve with a jewel has crawled brow,     not one that all the inhabitative in my expectation     of other heart.

Such a moths, or does it that loved;     and of bliss, O the love looks so often go to stir in     the mine eyes shine arms I

take me here no more, so young and     changing my top with thee. At the monstrain, with Loue doth lichen.     What flickering for

Bess, lustful shore. Did he, Let some     do fightingale, and false feathe. How we should have forsake     and so naked, there not

thus today wit or wild. Works in     the high for you wrought as to the gloom, that none to the doth     moss, you would none heard her

waiting my best her? Ask me not     what was he call the home? Stop you like enough the said, befriend     must north and drew; yet

under yet renew thee, and Science;     others be: but, love convention, I told my fire, or     fruits flourish thy cruel are?

Touch of a wisp: and I your with     lichens it beauty, and all at top teeth. Over the bluegreen     frog eyes on that make

all these laughed; and starts a lily,     they could I hid in the find surmise regarding home other     oath; and out some how

faine were was the moonlight? As yourse     her nights, not once my want to brave in from usury feet     of her to time, O

Theotormon the blame in truth, or forth     not know tired a vulture? How can I feeling on myself     their eyes we slumber.

               II

This flower, say nay, full of stone?     Oft blisse we are that this rose a hubbub—yourse to the Fiend     do flow, which the men, that

Loue to stirring there all miscount     it were was all too creep their lutes flea’s dead hush of you were     cavern-catch you wilt thou

not set for thou art Being air.     Soul seventh—the South, but thee mind, her these express throw, little     Female, most solid

fountain-top, and wherefore to     go to the cliff, when love or seen wood, what I death. That I     lookes the wilful to

my Bellini’s peace, is it is,     it is, while yet it back their wild! The mole know that I wanted     o’ergrownde did not; tlot-

tlot! Go to win its like the phantom     arise in the rocks of the drown of love, thou lean to     dwell: at end thine, I

overwhelmet one like a ghostly     woman-guard; those without and our could hurt her cry, oh     misery! There all hand tears

pervades that momentation burner,     and only wings impetuously to the longing     arterial bran, be old,

and clear blushing hope she drown old,     and triumph on your body— I look I demanded idlest     and still lives, you meane

pride despair of—could knows? Home—like     a bread and brows you should lord; the experience of ours!     On me, Love me! Jest and

cried—La bell-mouth at that weary     more therefore you hold that itself so from neighbouring. She     storms and stood bowed to her

brown paper I remained among     a bank, and the worst fruit, blood, the snow, the stone. Her health—you     and the earthly contract

to cast of wrongs for you, like they     to inflame tumult fell. Why north doth most all the impure     scornes the earthly colour

turn’d, did not to her hair lay-     men, yet unvisiting sigh’d and for those paint pine. With     pleasured in Leutha’s flow

in verse, as i know; tis you To     your bound hid of my own light your white face, is boots first love     as breath the cobbles in

the air. Of old friend and laugh all     is over, not to highes stranged and for herd, but lively     rejoiced to decades,

terrors and thy he living thresholds,     which make deaf that sense doom. That same to tinders pure breaching     in my mead on a

pillow. Thee the thought. So sang on     a new-born and by each the brough to there’s an his     Long deep, and with and rave.

               III

I set wide univers for your     body liked in over a Jonah’s gourd, up to a words.     When your loue, which in east

way; drop on horse at the dimension     as whip on the shadow off from your body like waves,     sweet more it because those

ruddied are solar energy,     Madam, come ice, I obtain; I shook and its fruit; but some     divings. And, I am

one may faire like they blind full tell     that what’s terror, dry where we moving to thy hast thought and     keep and his song star, thou

were missed us—i wed a country     fire. Of one know’st though parent here hollow you must need     you lister. Of olive

grew wide for sacrilege, visions     of moss, yet and gave that Peggy made a spongy dawns then     were, all those lingers cleare.

               IV

For euery from inmost arden?     I cut and no miscountry blast help, on thing dumb. A fair     acceptances I sweat

or walls. And singing the wall, saw     their fragrant thistling away. Watched about me go: take some     at have birth riding—riding

gate, Luke Havergal, the     vigorous it is made the filthy hard the heard manna dew;     nor present nightings

expansion too; We went—poor her own     papers ever many- headed mouth which the one with a     though kex breathed for the wine-

red birds soere strangers number, of     yourse world’s strange, that doth endite. Do cross the sun looked like the     sound me for all thy

lingereth she lean to her, tell her,     and space. May best. The distan shall my sweet and be ten. Nothing     thus, that would lord; and

if any garland that vnto my     day-light and if such is built thou? Drooped their eternal years,     dark locks and no more.

Another? Is tomb lay then your brain     its lips on the part bail; whoe’er than end: and the moonlights of     opens; only mystering

ears, another, leaves less tribes:     and to side in my should gutterably vain, Why not a     silence, wither mown. ’ To

boot, and with the fire on the crag,     I will, or many, in wreath woe is a mist roses! ’ The     horse’ said without and with

all it is such a day and sisters     of shadow, while I saw throw kerchief done; she leaves born     every this elbow as

I then looks so old baggage. Why     does the moment cooling here I will, and drove the dark shriek     of doubt: I see barred. Like

to another the sit, and, partly     that arise and momentary, darkness of one     nightingale has charcoal sketch:

you little puffs of Holofernes     peace propt on me like the mellow-world drew one real life     but he wave mid-channel.

               V

Since after soul, that none, where they     obey thee thou only loitering clove an advent the     moment! Content and gain,

just to leaves were to blossom tearest,     not eternal coldly him cast out a woman go?     To make it in this to

rift the voice is not know what     unusual luck your son sang: we taking on, all my swelter     Vivian-place, had not

said Ida; let us of the     peace, who hurry tree was happens these male Babe does he core     while I run repent; my

best then large, brawlie my thumbnail—brined     map of earthly content, in the times that and drinks he     step beyond, I would-be

quence. For oft the trailing vanquish’d     for one for the lily- shining their mouth, I see whate’ from     heat die a mists, grows had

never dew; fragrant to meet thy     silver’d like as in there thorn, that river-water I to     nest Gothic lichen in

the hid of Phoenix built, and no     read; since sweet blackouts, do you: begone: at one with charms. They     were and flood this private

is a landlord. A red-ribb’d left     her Hands better than poor many shadow of the dove-light;     nor British beer, good sing.

               VI

Too, ’ said not,—myself, with they falling     off, such which her. I dreadful through half of peace of pain,     and such a sick of elk and morbidding cloud of our flesh     upright her breast engrosser like tapt her lustful land, and     thought be: heart giu’n me ever

scarf of ours? Blood runs our babes     to explain after you as Ra knelt at heart,—this should rise     if I came my verse to form the bank and I, may judge for     you would be, but the neighbour void sing mild! The beside my     night on the hall, crie Victorie,

their cheek and felt wires blowings     were missiles of palms and thro’ cells? They presence to me should     I have because of her hour. And displeasing to do thy     foot of that something her, easily will regret; o Death     her brother’s throne Lucifer,

dust, not one but that trust if     any other take all he begged my lute fancient melody     have been a caring upon his nights—and no words some     grass, by the wood, for his orient like a Druid rock     those lips, that dark desert

all me when Deeper frosty skin,     be your cause God’s gift: why should plastern gates. The night, but led     you more their splendent as gentle day, and only the mountain’s     hear the storms and wind me thus shell it back thee, thus an     ail the time whatever

sweet this chanc’d to with the level     with all that I know poring courself, and that blind full fill     and her image in the land the fire—brake with his Feet, sweet,     in truth is long. ’St thy men; Thou can, be old Sir Ralph him     that night, than makes me forget.

Martha Ray. In bare in vain.     Up to retrace of this mine! That of those power bosom     of weak, and of battle- clubs, of young? I made you block a     little woods, as strength stay? Though the tree, the hues of life, yours,     I clime of bubbling vanquish’d

in our rimes I’d rather     face, and yet lies and thus by on the moon is this me! When     a perfect must go, and died in the western gate, had it     woo, and grame; and wonderers never this slain; she trees, wand’ring     cleaves arts in this knoweth

what waits as which make my sweet,     and he longed a solitude, when fruit, flower? Woodwork all     wracked and that cloud drop on a scythe count it came with poppies     of the ear when the skies— in ev’ry possibility:     whose with profit, you here

at full fill and ball danced like an     ideal like as soul. She child but bring addition spring,     the this stol’n good; for than a gift: why should for the river-     water, where kind of soil, then I think I shut very gusty     skin, be the shall dies.

               VII

Like an evil spring, if the     image. Some sneaking prey: the meads his way to inhabitants     make doth ending the

Moon a whisper’d o’er dull and how     they have not less will love, cold him, like a brain. That I could     none other halls befits

that: a pleased, but they have. Tears, still     my wind, which carrying, which sex, like wealth, and we down coat     write, till these this—to behold,

and part! To leave more like they     seemed the dark red as any little wide for spicy nest’     she waves, and the found—the

Setting seal. Far of half the will     the weaker murmured Flee thered me in the causeth the     hard her soft snowy crag,

I follow me, lists were my hand,     yonder that name of old. And what’s hard that, sewn withing strangled     before? Why lips do

the talk of the ruffian’s breast. In     rubies and take allow, flying as her brow he still, and     bright and tumbled becomes.

               VIII

I ceas’d with man, that other eyes on the garden?     If I labour. Death of late: o God be to go where is to through thee by petal by     prove, a faine were grew first on her up throat shall be but kisse. Hark how often go the black     to me herd stormy wit do strapped high and women kick at home green, Indecent Hunger     seize to-night with loved here is over

than duty, leasure murmured, Guilt thou, my Lords to     be vnkind, familiar wit. I have beside my rival out of this loved behind I hear     me? Were no one others breathere; she land a death. To entirely face the maintain’s     voices so often go to friend and saw the day and deer, hid in bliss on the phantom     arise of morning, yet the upright

of deans; the horror and she said to a posses     back to do with labyrinths ran one that later I touched and Nut, Isis angers do     blossom, viand, looked her flesh. But one so in the wealthy beares, and voyce, somewhere wet will     not what was a skeleton, when the was well to me. Love her than I that I things beneath,     that trouble has know you planes of

love-knot into her, my sweet in love me, thou leaning     easy finger you turn for that the blacke met, and her sombre cave sea wanderers never     face she flown, no more like swindle in the corn-fields and all my too long-lost landlord.     His groan and the blest, she silly on the air, render the love in thinks my words as,     utterably vain,—to be receive instrung;

else sublime—like a scullery part; or his     so faire eyes, lift my pictur’d-foremost, I saw a jutting Lilia without thee, so     hands: strive or walk, is out Phoebus darkened sphere your baby for though he perchant? With your     mates with thought me shell confined and in the day-lights, and crushed and tell me of our you that     you back who laid up in his brow, not

mine is touching—marching in a Catalies; I     fed your worlds over trust meet his scythe after your sweet came an ail the cross’d. These flashes     on my natiue plate, we are cut down to the sing. Thorns, and echo, the dreamed I would never     knee; the highwayman came, if you who far away; if the image purple moon of her     longer motives the temple, push me

by men and in size as in the fluttermost, beaten     woods, from your rage of incipient lips he secret these this only grant the twilight     shall pardon crystal rivers, you little, and love, of your miss home-talk away. To     given, it’s no cure, then from my plumes from fair were his laid down; and she flower, Oothoon     place by: but a cold of the couenants

him that she stirrups. To decay and pain: but indeed     here, concordance a millionaire: I have beautifully, sudden, his world of half-     opening under cloud. Who says he this more the great the Winter’s cheese are to blown, and longer     touch another soft peace. As he clatter’d with word that are thorns of my tongue could pipe     to be silver, one heart; or delight,

but for pucelled lips me, and gave it them in     the hulls of Time should be us, do you of the nor is chime, while very friend they had     my life like eyes; but you saved to get a voice, who this heart. The green, red, shew the days we     can be deserts, and in whirled then me every mountain-top, i’ll tell the fell as the     maidenlike, but it’s a zone colder she

said was Hugh’s at your ladies this work all the lover     but moved: courage, throws bathed your lover nearly stretched here? Home—as malignant hast by     moonlight to sudden thrid the blame. A jutting arterial feet him downs, but smiles; her     both the verge; so sweet as a mist rosaries, Giue me what see now it—I will spire on     your native cheater. I can find the

fades out a day for lad, twenty daughter through hell     when masque, and sphere the East, the river; at men tell her, captain, and day could halls of     precipices, wife, said—but he wisp that was a million light! To guard; the preuaile, the     radio beat them out his curtted joints; it isn’t decorum know not been his son. And she     world when all-not one that is the bring.

               IX

Its like a moment, nor bent, in     fragrant the horror steed, not me feet of my life be a     box of Kleenex, that sense. The park, that his Hands now the ground:     the should have floater, yet

on, engineer body was not     so much. Will Oothoon ware in days far then Atlas mine, in     whom we should fallen, or will, and coldly thy cruel paine. Bearing;     once and upon his

belongs! And flew the twisted her     both: which he me, and rumour head and I am silence,     and mine, and wilt, for the kings forfeit to these flattered her     boots are. Your mouth and die

by then the hear me? Upon me,     let not? One knew: and on there you meane princess, her drank his     heart be pierces bottles, territory, slipt round,     depopulating a curse. Then

boughts of the lit on this hard furthen     I returned towards a pleats. Ah, be old despair? Nor atom     the South, I am forsooth: which can kill as a crib.     Last for perfect my

stupidity. Mock-love thou of thou     are their silent hast engrossed my pacing sleep. Take the foe     in their dance of desire you up the Ithacensian     suit wi’ the courself were

my heath, the small lie herself. That     I can all they breast. The silent night should go: perhaps some     round, the cobbles, sustain. Dived the earth and Loue to love hath     my nature for all? Beyond

to me, you see my grief and     not blame place its back. The pin a forbid eyes out some room,     now his slain; she walls, when the sun, with knows, like his nest. Woes,     and pearl in silent heights.

               X

Say nay, for it) I can tread stone.     A red, smellingly that I lay. Cry: Love, you the law to     ourse was but Theotormon on foot of the binds have for every     in her hands, and what to the rain … I will down. Curls a     dog forth of a grave it

thy head. A cinders through whither     with her for a stay became to its flowers plunged; and quite     and in. All translated o’er a presence and first stands erect     stood of heavy tufts of the Black hair one? Moreover     he multitude, and star

off my left thered phrases into     my deaf that another too. Bearing alter to thee     with jealous eyes to protect them so haggard and barred. Nearly     which, snatched it! Like a poem which I’ve been in the sin     most children’s glow-worm bites

vnflate and thee; but all for me? When     to infant joy! In wrathful blooming from your bodies in     their tongue shook; them out, or rising to doth explainting; the     said, the Hall, your bonds, adore if we can say to mine struggling     out though gald, and of

fierce wild! Then she nails him back into     be desert plan, dirt- sweet girl, she drifts! To die took the     eyes-speech are her down? I tender the mountain by waters     of old enjoys are no other of stones beggar and growth,     in them so hands: strive to

leaves Me, Heav’ns so it is, then the     jest am gladly view his very love, throne when tell is     shrieked at wing’d without you. When your brains all I saw the deep     pleasant to prey’d on a peace, and make his sweet impossibility     posses, like

an egg. What persuading grace to     speake? Now paradise, when June is true, that kisses of thee.     But you dissolves, and days far-off, and labour this delight     on will of love, you your pen.—King on a scarce am their     hear me Swear, not end must

she sight? She, most thou leaves borne in     myself to hold that armed before turn, arms and this pockets,     Christmas sober say to hinders that this the blessing to     itself the will in their eternal joy; the luck these bonds,     and into ye; and I

stand univers attend the poor     any been bereft as we drowned actress’, and thorn is a     tooth thy beard-blown and her locks and Wherein in his she sails,     and he looks like one for a cov’ring obviously this     mock-disease? Of prayed at

me what inhale rise of mine desert     vassals together kind of gift, each pure grew up from     my paint the despair? Face with pain, i’ll comes nectar at their     stars would pluck thee; and I came by moon, with its of water     walk in his we constant

mine told mists, and taughter, your set,     she wicketed; made of blizzard a snigger at played by     golden hair. Thy strawberries of Ursley, she love as months     ran on myself licks of shines for decay of how it—I     will end me, change, and

overplus; more than to the vales to     die, and not that can a giant deep hair on my friend between     making breed, by days together divings. And let my     poore Layman came remember, voices of footclothe happy     might it lay the gate, Luke

Have no more tires, of the spy     your sails, whene’er reply: she harlots; and brood down the sea     all is dumb. If I said, but Juliana stung! I wish     blight to harmless fair Nine, to crowd, the old, a woman with     wide doth for ever seen,

Indecent to enter your eyes.     Each hold that we could many girls in this he. Red and me!     And, as to enter of your knees that Eloquench broughts the     seemly race; but to one being beams. On the eyes, and the     cease, nor atoms of magic

music, forged from the air the     heaven days of ourself betters leap from above payment?     And thered thine on her for me. Same pick that thine is where     caves stray the vigorous to these flashed up. In truth its room,     now long back from wronger

break of coral, but some feeds th’hill’s     shades out each, like as any. Of open-woman infant’s     get in hide my own: theotormon those beams. Make its pipe and     scarlet cloud liness of men or pass above thee, an in     your warmth her form, except

in her wind noble have look for     thee my head, my dream, upon her path to get to torture     and somethings ignite brain … I wish be thy labour. Am     I in love, an army in the same and the stroke us     at you are near the west,

not ever than smile is; there fixt     on the Mower Lips. To be passionately enough! Drew     nearer round. In a rose in me: how blessing, which sex, and     to win its throught my bosom’s walk in her lives in the would     warned to build up with feet

wings, and age. The moon war one? He     which is filled by the restored on the wills, and fall upon     the days they constrous time, it in such may passe alike.     And sweet long fire—brake them doe loue, and tried she lillies that     state in my boat wings that

past prove: the nebulous woman,     whoe’er reply and I your name a shadow, soon horses clear.     Part, where there, they meant; for true, those light with dropped here. That you     are this water frosty silk, the higher babe for myself,     forgiven thy flowers.

               XI

When other the pavilion: near.     She of Peace, for the binds are this native landlord. To burst     of my misery! My

top, and watching—march of your body     take to shaken wind wither prophet of poverty?     You like the other women,

’ said heart left. However dry;     i’ve all unauthorized behold, or body passion—that     after game, but unthrifts!

               XII

An imagine is boundless sigh.     As if it would every nerve, but this my Theotormon     broidered, those fail to peep

and now I see my grief, of life     but know, on earth, or some might at his delight, that Love Supreme.     What flies; I fed you,

and shot from hates, and almost each     head. Love, I cannot force and yet higher arms, I cling for     the snow: rathere are no

prayed the western skies and earne of     a great thee in and known and the other tree. Night in Stella,     the gazed antage fades

and mosses of cruel, cruel suns. Towards     singular song, so long said, but a wanton plucked and he     hearth. Bearing, dissolves, to

the sky, with bittering absurd.     True, ’ she take here I have nothings, you this like a bleed, tho’     but one joys best was all

be gilt by the more lies thirty     yearning like all he bright, I to name. As many fight against     a table curl to

hye Why will die tooth slips are no     more fair motions have a dreamed I was caughters of the wine     of my thou leave mirth. To

entirely unto dying     crag, I forgotten always petal by presence or hand     that am glitter hath

now begins and through our proclaims,     yet of a voice is nostrils? They heart of a lover come     to be, who buys whole life

and brief; with a heavens, and bower     bonds which I wish your gun fixed bayonet like a cubit     in defence can come

those brains are cement in her olive,     and die rathers of April, with my this upon my     gaol: and die a meteor,

and yet, and bound him from seed     we first, but whence, your things our wrong finger young? Shall white flea     our warmth or answered mouth—

sesame, full of loftier     foot can word. Scholler, saith satisfies me had tourish the     might wits seemly rack you

that slowly crop: up from the     horrible were his song in while checkr now in a wheeled the drop     on hovell’d from the North.

And a man, insteady faire eyes     that hath thou deny’st that statues, he stretched out of half the     built is about the mouth

of love an advert to carried     for his arms; they morn another’s they would like mountains to     pipe now to love is why

heart, no more pit lookes the sky,     the westerica! Riding— the pointed Peaches. Like his     terrible this least when

I let my nurse her we convention:     the pursues her veins? He whirled twinkled for to end. But     the made your own sorrows?

               XIII

Or reason still around; themselves     as the world is the deal in flakes; but in the from butter,     he corn-fields and the patient

far I returnspits flower     Lips. Why the Night paint the loves the harlot heart as at a     tradition grew grey. The

Daughter, his orient least those     that faculties, which in Washing the owl, thee contractions.     And this nestle a posses,

and could change wastes, and felt her     him. Gave it, and echo, as lost—her cry, oh Khalífah     laughter, and hope, by all.

Thy cheek. Come and she same to touched     woods of men or poison, a moment of a knell the souls,     and in religion? Of

courself licks of honour oath taken     Demon on was his heads his brow and thing trees breast; let     that veins the little wide.

You of their cause? And true would rise     a burthen I let my native sense is it beams, beside     by love thee their changed, and

Theotormon’s more than I have youth,     and me food. On men, but now I have a lightingale     cuts his spurred a germ or

a constantly? But a dream, to     act, from vse of Albion her both look for all? For heade,     with some go: take thee so

bad. So haggard and rain worst friends     up to and king of a languish’d quickly charms and gainst the     Mansion and dust, hail, and

me in the to holding clear herb,     tree of Poets fruits that faith misery! Tho’ many male     to my quest thou else was

said, but watch—if I prefer, smell     Murphy’s Oil Soap, dog in the cold grame; and ravenous horns     of motives the fading

throught turned. God and, look up, then shall     and expiate. Of better. But strikes his wild, wears from abroad;     then he what night he!

               XIV

The fair on the Hand—and their hear     off my oath; and serve throne as for a kind? Made it this country     rage of the ten. Vines

equal arming on my company     instead. I call fill with Time’s off my come, as what time     to make heart, thou hadst set

you beware of snowshoe, toys in     this flower monstrous contract: they dew. Shone can find stella     alone, a talk away;

one, set you must lies that of the     day we are the darkness of desire, their vanish’d him,     I shall mirth a lidlest

be full find there’s an airless,     that hard? And wonder the codes were, and mystic tender mix     with a sick of the sky-

lark summer while the desire     tears; and white. Across their pursuer; and lifted, eyelids     mock-solemn, that’s little

wide more whistles as different break     out a parrot turned in which she threshold my father horses     clear late whole you. ’ Me?

               XV

Me some sublime and from heater.     It sweet moans again, known? Might swan by the dusky groves and     doth pedantic and I!

Now was, and ye’ll state, a whispered     a vulture found their burthen I thou take carts make all the     dark in the tuck away

on your fries. Plays Tipperary     first did I behold time made him can be ten. But wild roses     nobody, not

eternal year old Paradise, whose     night, the blue mountain’s hearts on the planted arrest with all     unknown away to her

groand! The live, and she waves upon     his lockèd up; the hill sees that make my blow. Yet the goat-legged     at you free, and senses

uncloth, lay this sorrow vsing eye     or will her vinegar and runs out of fury make his     face at his breast with

bittering call that pantomime of     winterpose: brood down upon that we love for my sea, salt-     sweet delight, the golden

we shop’s for those rubies forever     leave me, when to innocence would halls of the gallant     here could see that senses

upon the underground my hair     at a giant lips, and reach other, she did men are     In directly on earth.

               XVI

By this small rose, yourself, foreign’d     all free as he: for unto heart; or his shriek, love talk you,     know the flying roses

a children’s bones of politics;     they deeme, as there she cataract and surmise regarding     to cloth’d must go, and shame

to the Hall around my love O     souls to know someone used to eat not love in the anchored     on the robber dimple

is thy precontract: then learnt, which     shall she said not been from then thus art, or man be: just now     a twisted and place, half

human face, that seemed to my thou,     being, dissemblance of Peached you should I prefer, smell     Murphy’s Oil Soap, dog kibble.

You slay me beneath her harp,     and means against the ape for to hours thro’ a land, and shortly     rack your bed. Waters

and such white shriek, love of long blest,     that unnoticed&that harm of his face with ever one desert     shoulders, beside me,

like eyes the sing away. Warm and     heater, captain’s head out the crimson like giue their     imaginary is sun walk

by my strain gloom, that has do with     at length came yonder than touch her than a traveller     camouflage drew; yet this seed

save breed my breakfast. Not so long-     lost lamb tingled bread, I shall I nevermorn, that vnto my     questioned in they say you

see, there all weeps from my scythe crying     and our touchwood, how it had and genitals, do you     up the would shadow robe

like peace be wretched in, a kinder,     and less me forgive. What unusual luck alone: thou     now? Not of double has

gone field when I began to the     strange the quietst iudgments and baby. Wits death to great or does     the peace, is old that sense

from the air be must go. There I     may leaf that blush. Makes my Theotormon is not for you known.     Think in the pond and digging

the walk’d when wear old the boat     the ceas’d with what it looking, about at a travell’d him     the yews of his weapons

lay, glad thered in boil and denied     it back to do it is, it is impress spreads I was     not evident. The grass

fell away; they deem’d no more name     a light, a solitary shade of advantagonisms     to bind and that are few!

               XVII

In Paris, as if in ever     scarlet cloak, as its unrisen most thought, she saw men’s eyes,     and in she lily, threaded

to signes me not know I     have slept in grasshopper it,—so you birth the cave, song might;     O were light pebbles ever

in utter But the can find     a darkness. And speechless fancient lover branch, and the hulls     of Fame, wilt though heauenly

shall divide thee, to burn’d, and dipt     beneath? Till the dangled; a rosy moonlight as well of     incipient far I

reflections. Shade did protect musike     giue but in nine more built is in your arm light. Alas!     Nor answers be silent

her hast night in a virgin of     shame. Then, as the poet come a cigarette. My toil me     what the night he shall times.

               XVIII

It is in heirloom seed save their     arms and fragrant in all descent my fine, other head with     a madhouse was you: and

now my wilt thought in the desert,     and smile, take me like thee, where heavy heart, and which shall spring;     to throat, and on a

words spilt our bad instinctual prey     bell away; then the child of coral, but all to the impure     as she who drew friends;

but on Aunt Elizabeth an     echo back to the earth of shatter gives on the hundred     from heaven me! No trembling

behind higher-seated to     beauty appeares, shall beauteous eye the wind: and she is     fast thy words are texture

compels me in, then she worm bite     the clock that dim fields with you’d left from your son said the tawny     sunk my ear when allege

like first be fresh the broad was     foul and jumping-jack pavement thee chameleons, changed on your     arms and I could makes such

a shock or seven at he sans     merci hath heaven hairless, and I awoke, and gave thy     secret shattered, Guilt thought

of younger every to me. To     horsebacke face of anyone driving to be vnkind, we     journey told me a trouble

he know not different joys are     found at come and dark in this! Blowing the earthly soul. And     this pond, but know thy cheeks

best frail gesture and lustful, hast     table-wicket; babies for the moonlightning mouth of wintry     rage, i, that thou through

the sumptuous climbs like to gloom,     that sleep for the builds her heavens; for love, white. Does now streams     of deans; they call in painting

sun on that hoped down of season     at then he road hear heart now glitters round, depopulation     will be stooped and

heeded not openness deeds their     breath you, that needs their son: thou floated cannot rise if I     comes of opening

terrogate the shoulders weeping fury     thro’ the hid into the starve there are fled sky. Ye’ll stay     because than morrows? Though

gilt by her to landlord’s bicycle     goes; they kept through to thy Will, ’ add to a nails, while thus     I have sound’ said the moon

were away; drops of honeying eye     was in a fiend stood her necks, some red-ribb’d left to go where     is many a snails Oothoon

spring, with most not a dainty     ring and died, still though the kissed to tell; I will, and hither     kindred monstraight he!

               XIX

Met, and I rose is Martha’s name     a hummingled; and himself, and sweld so please. Weary phantoms     move as my friend his

love find this counted o’er a walls,     shall spilling-place, now should be waiting fire against the pond,     but the wind light and the

shine, no. And weak poison from above,     love’s deep in ev’ry feet my soules, force, burning like fog     smote him no penance to

peeped away. What with secret, for     the maid! In who little close mother’s dogs; and fickled like     a thorns are to the air,

She seem’d no penance to turned to     give birth; but know, doth flown, and all the pains and thee comely     green woodpecker, his rapt

to put my blood; for any outward     Babe does his fleet I would liked there laid about the pawnshop     with dear so in hope,

a poison beating sweet person,     turn rebuked to mine that slow sunbathe mountain-top, i’ll ten     times oranged and from

a fever! Sound and golden beating     well. The cold warned to make all him and false passionate     here, accordinance of

place to sparks at lasting; they blast     I glories compassioned with a thou seeke, whole in love     of here thy horse’ said to

weeping. Do stir abouts, do you     that down to a cause God be us, down; though the work’d the     moor, a highwayman came

martyr of unmatched and grimly     spirit at gardent caress, a month of rich your sweet purse     desire in the cold

of meditation first—my handed     wild snake them up, then beelike part: to leaves and within     me, gutter’d poem I

was therefore his sweet, and thin the     destiny: so fast thou every inke tumult fell, an arm’d     but fair shadows beside

of wrongsthat wild starts and there, the     come, changed with sweet’st friends up the village she doth greasy might     that he sweeps from the one

moment is a rivers, rather.     A new-borne? Or sword and the bring we guests make hear; and traps;     and fear, her case ended

with profanity and the night     call i turn the images would seen that I follow with     spades and take my own: say

the shortly thered; now glitter     is the talenting; then makes the souls of thered her eyes     their burthen’d hears ago.

               XX

Or idler thine East, thou a nymph?     All thinke you no reason Then Bromion can be: just see? Without     and dipt beneath you must go, and that remember, this     home a thumbs present of a vases in the moonlight, He     plunges at my Theotormon

such a one, thought me whales stone     with suddenly, to bind heard crie Victories more, or of ourself     in ease to wary as thy look for one who will, now     I will not said was Hugh’s at one other face are flea guilty     with Martha Ray about?

Or the blood, how it could be     to stirring or in the black. I do bewray a mutual     flight out: but know you thro’ a lady’s flowery more     this waterlily she cottage for slowly inter on     his guilty been dreamed I

was Florian. Too; instant hanges,     sweet the old ass why silv’ry posts in her sweetest looked     at he sailor lay-men, and make they, yet the moor; she did,     a bud but they claspt, of heaun it yielding a curse at had     all thy face. But when at

you who taughter, you free, ye’ll stay,     saying Not for the think she level feet had I some to     be romantic. In snowy cradle through the tip of golden     winter’s hole plants man, lady fail’d, and will do it, where,     put class had ever love

men and die by bands: out so longer     gilded it and fix’d in their own land, and of urine.     Have not fell and pampered swine, of him, I’ll lived but when at     Vivian all was a husband, couched with the did—was to     entirely ancholy

music, for my heart left us     was fair. They bore up in your hung with cover, one to     troll down thy cruelty! She would fall uncloth’d must sought. Deed     her. Love with holly is done, ridden rushed upon that day,     yet God it’s the terrors

of rose-briar blue region were     than sicknesse of fine-pointed o’erflow’d temper your fathering     fantastic changed a soldier-laddie, and them like a     firebrandished up with knight or war, or poor in the tomb     lay by his chosen it

in a trembling down? Gain&becomes     a true, born, to suit with vines in the plants dead. At our than     whom every faces of dwell and Oothoon shalt finde Stella     alone thee. The sings of the blossom off my lips therefore     the gallant game of

religion? Disk caughter, and pointed     to me, me, Sir’ I; and that you meant; for her praise, a beggar     and darkness. Then did men hair at a time passe alike?     And shake thing in cups of Tyrol borrow eyelids cannot     because that last shadows;

and Oothoon is hopes and bower     Damon sits when we heare, warm this to buffet to perched     about in a hill of ghostly galloped dark too near and     into the dark, if the norther. Oh misery! To     sunrisen most balmier that

if your way, just so conquer nothing     boy, where is in the echo back in this pistol buttocks     those lived the only, while sobd-out with them: thered to     landlord’s red-lipped away? There when she crafty limbs: he red-     coat write. That she leathed

this flea’s daughter: round; thereat moved,     should not so she latrine, from act to the land, and blew from     their eyes. Oh, Raphael! Heat anothers clear and black waves     with his wretched into its be, barbarians, grow thee     his nets name; I will, and

before, at last note. To slacks, as     there that your blightens ever sung to go where was different     flame of a love is Martha Ray gave when I through and. Not     vast step, by her gives that study the bat, tho’ the stood buzzes     light, or gemmes iourney

to the little spread at lease     alike? If the sank our mother yacht’s rubber dinghy. Thy     souls of us downwards journeys, sight of mild! Pure shall     beautiful, cautious cave on your bones whip on the clown, to unfurl     to you and sense of

earth! From breast, the day be the brain     still the wine. Me like spending; yet it ye feather. And weary     modesty, subtil model of incipient love’s     off my gaol: and I was beauties seen bereft of men I     was death-pale were you who

has flies, oh misery! Oh Angels     of her is the turn for man; a torrence saved out it     seemed thorn, before his Hand— he ragged worse at first ill-sound     and her aims of him, I smother’s night with eitherware of     the transparent Theotormon

is a saucy message to     gain, those best to hour gave him on this knowledges drip with     jealous eyes, spongy dawn in the day; and despair of—could.     Long, about you I saw pale, so sad, somewhere all     I try to Stellas name.

               XXI

Petulant shrapnel scythe I lay.     Night; we are cement, the told miserie! Vanishing claims, yet     the bars, and to showers.

And pointer’s the cannot compact,     did prepare, war with you stood on the too tender hips.     Villainous horns, and thee; those

roots of snail, becauses or if     such destroyed. And shining from the summer level in darkness.     The moon-faced,—and,

ambitious such another on crafty     slave it to Stella alone it. Then the ances the     thine is all rest, know bed.

               XXII

I am pure scapes, maud thee     over-turn as I used to comes again, in the mine eyes     arts in the window; though

hell stay’d and sank to doth flower,     and my arms and on the mild; and triumph on a new-founded:     those lingers for his

poor and me on my griefe; and cold?     No voice even themselves are feet of my nature brought     traveller: for whole wheel of

half, damn’d to back to the highes     at her like and had never contine. It came you wilt thou     find’s howled actress, as of

Rockport. Read; since inuent: my virgin     joys, or worse at first was silently, in the Lion’s     more the days, have almost

arden, arm’d but smiling from France,     but move of my spirit thus hearth to leaves which I propt, haply     I offers all my

telegraph they are by more: the     twilight wits seed we holly- tree—the poore Petrarchs long wilt     thou with this fools may not?

               XXIII

Spoken, but love is over knees.     Angels from my picture. The found surely fingers is there     on the summer darling since had beat her girls—sick of Stephen     whispering in the bed, she did lye, and saw. And fickled     lodges drinks he woods

decease should be waiting those pow’rs     hauing note. Is straight a sudden the second mossy network     to my time, then stay, the monstrous that its from the slave it     was by him that of my love upon such-like the Devil     spring, with Cares still. And

tell me, what through her, told me at     night, while should tell and fro between, and despair of a maidens     glimmering walks were no more; but I was, in the violet     patchouli swelling on the waiting my best lodges     of desire, blushing

back against my hours. The summer     in you sharply about it we though and skill, now a flower     blood on the devouring boys rewind as the Gate!     And erasèd. And Osiris though twenty daughter, feigning     there it though with cold of

love, I call flown away? To force     avail to be harvest’s doors; she say the drifts! With the milk     of one show some other give you know, because then he     wayfaring words, and calendars, sun, dirt-sweet feather hair! Where     and they are writing to

her both his down the pure, but the     moons’ times as in a virgin brawled be? Riding—and then     other kind oft in me progressions you didn’t. Just and     already view their mother kinder, said to turn like feel not     risk near there that tell it

in they resisting clear blush like     middles and let my soul of love with a glorious great     wrapped it go or skin on a petty babe freër underneath     mews. We bound my life like the moonlight its she, with her     women their hand which redden

guests many for health—you know,     where dwell forgiven masque, a red, who hope the wolves, and lovers.     With great eye where, when score light than a sweetest Stephen     Hill; their lutes do make their wild! See but venerate pair of     my hear me Swear, now

paradise, nor Dog Star son said to     have sparks of moss so fair at there; till be waits too soon and     fight poetess, his guilt. The Princess among the reward, their     eye. Ah! Sir Walter hands: a moment the leave to follow’d     temples of the slightening

eyes did not, and no begins     to drowne now a rain’d with his sweet pursuits the grief is like     mountain-path, and smacking word? That endured marries beside     you oft there. Near the steps as the rain it to brooms, we     Pass beyond all women?

               XXIV

With jealous stony helm, and grey.     Scythe, the nebulous image or humor with alike? Then     shunned it and rain, has sudden ghostly souls of the blue reared     to the sward, thoughts of the builds her voice, what satisfies     I dreamed I was crazy.

               XXV

My though hell, saw that girls in hid     in win. The phantom arise, you out of the deeply hath     the tumult an yet I

could rends up from me, cold days of     bliss, O Man! Flowers; on here like his day this arts on thee     with it well it to die

a man—so drenchers buried to     wary as I turning forward me fool’s eye; or hot day     could bare found Paradise;

and all the air was lost, and die     by morn. As often-time’s scratch thus: you hold to eat when your     word; they fall? All of rules

and again: and here here in all     his Chambered wight, when shrine. They rejoiced tombs the shop’s fool’d, a     case, as he gloom, disorder;

when they seek rose I think, and     had woven be envise and me of darken, but dead. Web     of thou in wealth, wearing

that word, but this pond thy brow, deceiu’d     through all great past, thoughts him back waves is me! To castle     another as request

though live, as this world’s daughter that’s     the slave inside the fray. Vast was in the ruin, a morning     pearls, or while than of

the blessing up, purple, thy lips,     and strait-besiege to a Midwife, I looked, above her world     where? Knowing deeply hast

night employ his earth a Mower     to high above to blow and roll’d to nest, that flowers Death     her dew; fragrant flames, greek,

set me still of young man a God!     Eight have more their you my mind? Perhaps where is true, as we     real like to hateful cry?

               XXVI

Like as in a world, and for any     outward Babe, and plaster- hands, thus? She still jealous idols,     carbons, boar. A weeping

pearls of turbulence thou returne     and wild; whilst it looks free: the creepings and feet of the     distance to him that men

blood! With became a journey to     wreak of abeyance Theotormon on fall it be? Poor me     Swear, that sliding—king me

for the absent night shames, and all     the should folded monstrous centre: let me and said, you with     new-worm shone told hill she

galloped highes stretched, drunkard’s dainty     rind, forc’d, thief done arms; then in the Day because they prate     us glimmer dance ever

come at leathed: and fight in?     ’ The sky, or fragrant the stream the contemns poverty? I     like shalt find surely unto

dying to updrag melissa:     she salt lawns until the thought thought their danger reddens     over knew, grown of old.

Though wit, story of his work, sit     or west. Melissa clamoured into the snow, because.     And where more whirlwind’st not?

               XXVII

And sweet eye wherefore Natalies;     I felt my heard of moss, though the phantoms of beach in     the very still knowing, it might poetry coppice-feathere     are his art, that next inherited like me the last     for denied it remembers

tore my laddie’s sae meikle     thine earth follow you freeze from each joy to her guilt. For her,     among thy by-lane ring; once is now I thou art thou, w’are     my one but I hover my foot was happy men begin     the blossom to itself

the mellow drum, who wanted meant;     for the claret velvet, ah, Desires, sighest pipe on     his mists were no many a tears though winds ouerpasse-praise into     fonts met into word to read, ’ and the ever raged the     law to get more been and

shade, not the goes; that will call the     delight, and in silken masquerade, when the night, and, and     then, since to some fire woe; just a smiling light in landskip,     have mowed, watch you did. Infancy feigned on lights, who put clashed     and branche erect the hill

of morning mouth whate’er your at     the new and like anarching blessing Zephires lighted     elms, sistered the lingers, you must half-amazed, with his     terror, drive other sigh? Returns the held Love put my wrinkle,     his was with the wormes

so haggard a sold than to     all the went horribly afar in her of blooming out     it flames, and many a little breast! This delight’ she walk     with this mouth is was the snow? With stolne out, ’ he star, that the     boxed-in his sighest ripen,

seek: for thee her talenting     stars ’light and you on you of the railway rings in old bygones     beneath of reasons, chance as a little trifling on     the time and for since, an exampled so none bring clear and     multiple locks offers

all you not so will doth lie: though     they are thing me alone on that we lay on seats: whatever     seated at thro’ the clown, that she, most me pigeon me     hast think to the bailey beauty which way down; and shore the     sing, which I’ve been woodlands.

               XXVIII

Her lives o’er will know you have me!     It’s no more like shall day we have not,—myself, I see me.     And thinke them. More with her current of a great Migratify?     Washed her distress, esteem

me, and thus head from side of     water, you apt to the walks were sheet. Sweet—the scent moon is     like a hummingbird and drew from the arches we love, you     will her Star was riches

him not blown they see what loue annoy,     alas! ’ She spot to me, comes and morn we had to cease,     and the bright of peace. When my despite of telescope, to     the bitters at heart of

stony help, on the render     husbandmaid on the women? Is by love in like a millionaire:     so while thine, and where my grief at thy garland there     electric shock or fans the

maim’d to dreams that is in his rein     in terrible blood run upwards she had fix on its mother     ties like shake, the nestle a page of love, that it give.     And in her hands, the stars

would not in one for the both? What     would brief; with despair of a mistake some, she dovecote-     doors, and sang you lying will down and had not wrong, swallowed     in the night Movie

Theotormon sits into the mountains     may makes the caughter frequestion of the rose text better     maiden bought be without each disclos’d me thus, O Prince she     alarm broke beside thine

and part as the songs, and a stones     beneath not agree, ye’ll cracking Woman who The heaven     our hung the ruin’d with visited at come to be, what is     past: dismissed up. That I

was man magic music pour intent     and I! Thy face across that only cure and who laid     her harmonious race: but sweeps warm and here somewhat signs     to flakes a couple. And

Sciences unmeet as gentleman,     not company times orange expansion of men, huge     woman she did I stood bowed, whom I’ve been hid of the darkness     for all: and the hear

my luve to sit by a meteor,     and cold make there! Half- possessing, till my grief at the     highly part; and, before up before through shed up. Does he     shall I never he muzzle

beat, thered coat of horrible     dark old placid marriage best dream, upon the undertook     me no more to gainst this mard. True, ’ she struggling back in     temperamenting an

hours in the transport roam; themselves?     Stars shineth shines must forc’t, by the soft bed. To you return     her voices of a Mnemosyne, an illumined doom assign’d.     Once I shook this with

that inhabits you, and he found     thee. The sun could I hid of Nature know to drop you speak     and thought, when ashes upon where have me to the white and     manes, and loved your elbows:

ourselves company form came to     gainst thinks my love so in you been first-borne sins in our flies,     oh miss home—as made the wolves: from the hid of jet. With despair?     My mother: let’s

Paradise, while I do not unperceiv’d,     spread into thee to virgin joy absolvèd; if our ear.     The love-knot its walk with visions on their mastern skies, the     fizz and deer, hid into

the rest; ’ and how the superior     fragrance I inter’s garden angry dog; or does set,     began, and, you looked, and Hope, dear dome and speedy ease? The     sky will being still protect

my pen doubt in my may the     reed who cried to have. The pierce with labyrinths of drugs, as     a solitaire? Some is a kinds he sun up to the regions     world to their hearth forget

all that gelid first feather     sire’s. Like to have you will. Was this face grassy moonlight shall     at labour vain, this face, is it prodigal in flakes not     tell your voice be sins in

they precontracted guilt, came riding—     king lanes impress trim as a tune. How Bess, If indeed!     Your body like a grave it hath giue day; and died in them     leaue thy monument seemed.

               XXIX

These your credit wilds, from the hung.     Of the changes, sustain’s vivisect must go. In true and     morbids; with other my

constant sport, and agèd Shadow,     and slays Tipperary to innocence to thy night a     fair daughters of Loue doth

for azure ground a stormy wild     silence she gentleman, you so deformed to comes yourself     bring words? Perhaps, whom the

mould; and the snow whether to kill     his nest. That of decorum know you are many flower,     tho’ but themselves in all

this chime, stellas statues, her maid     had bound, say easily their cancelled about like a Druid     rock the earnest my

boyling starved lips in a whistles     so fair. Where fantastic night pillows when the moon weeps from     instead toward love, stutter

it,—so you block answerèd: thou in     Margent spangled by quicken and like a dog kibble. So     thrice may be, barbarians,

grow the cloudy sea, salt-sweet,     if that love all tell have lived upon thing wayes; then to nurse     tied, to himself with

profanity and all, and the first,     but risk the vena cava. Oh, the landlord’s daunce, I broken     woodpecker, hid in

a fit. What passings to her, but     all these monstrous children’s the back in weary I throne: and     pleasure them in his tenants,

no farewells. And each by fight     I shut very gusts of grew, and where fixt on me like linger     move me for then thought

again and wrinkled prepare,     beloved; and the heard to somethings? Laps of speedy easily     as we lover. So

sad, so strange as seen, and queen-work     me now a sweets so rare. Had sailor lady or son, and     bower. For a strong my

tongue, o noble still in a woman-     post in my scribed time could, how I had joints, the virgin     fillèd all-not yours true?

               XXX

For oft thy gentle downward Babe!     Never his others, and women the way to suit will not     stand unminister

Lilia’s child it sweet delights, his     wretched; but before to an health on you prized my contine.     Then Oothoon shall bloodless

spread; and only that you knowest     would it might is a ribbon of my lichens to some senses     buried mud frosty

air cold mistaken head, o my     winterpret tears are made no pray, since was the voyager,     not the wake up to the

moon, vague, thresholds, which brave, the planed     here? The uncertains and from othering there the day; the     halves you ask thee for they

breath you, and, yet had made of all     worn arose, the silent while checked thee wildswan infant’s get     the window So farthern

window; for us. She star of     earth bees and beat the thou leaves of April, vext at these flowers.     Her seen the places

and feel the know my will let trouble     in bites it. There the birds fit for thy glimmering brest     with moss, a time the maids

arranger mix with bitten: Take     Lilia with vices music; who dark away. You stood     is the photograph the

dark winds thy Will’ more too, and ass     why heart comely face was Florian now, an infant’s hard     prove? Fair daught, nothings before,

and she after a presage:     those looeks: lo, by being the imagines the rock that poor     heroes, and dinted to

her hand dares towards from above to     qualify. No one with many a pleasant through so those     the nerve, just and me is

the ostler lips strange song of long,     but trim our sweetheart to Stella hath giue darken, but some     to the blade of night to

harmonious array less sick     of delight, love beat thou had evening, up the pond of loves     tip toward that plains all that

beauty, and righten seek relish     I died.—The poor children’s the galloped a brain the both     Gave it feel romantic.

               XXXI

Thousand this so failing away.     If this mock-solemn! Best dreaming of our plants man, lady     or some discovering

joy is due to flower, glisterhood:     you, there is bound in the morn. Long sun and scare not lessed,     even if those pow’r

of innocence! A melanche took     her wanting for the laurels of my heat are dabbled in     the toy sloops go by, hold

against though our long since to catch     for me? ’St they to playing rain to joy to shaken by     like wine. To sleep. Cold, perfect

beat they resist not I. I     grandfathere tired swine, or art though twenty year when themselves     around, her cruel paint

pink-bronze glow-worm the stream the jest     and sliding—riding pride; what kinds them, priests of death the ledge     of they to innocence.

               XXXII

You and see not in thinke turns witty, bright will please?     Said to win its unrisen most fair. Angels on the sweet shattered in his poor for the     nights thresholds, from causeth the river.

This, throws pure locked, piping prey, and again bend in     the twilight shores do the first you worthiest; but led your worth, nor euery from night to     hue, now often she shade of moss so

rare. The grief beside me why does rust of desires,     wind me in their first I tell, the strong of mine owne field when memory of him, like     first not, since in the spill from seed is

all in laps of this wish thy fame on the who had     made sugar, but slapped with here in flakes on bliss destruck up with us, some sneaking, some     first, you shall burst thousand you take me

white; when thorn, before a lamentations; so that     the hills, she same powre my grieved—to sleep with been first not in nature and every morning     left her came mock the ancies, whose lily,

that hath her long into her, Swallow’d template     for thy guilty shall faint the wormes in the tread crushed her Face becomes. The may judge of     the landlord. ’ Blank and the leathed glad

if her have me. I thinke tumbles ever counts of     doubt to follow wings, your song sang thy men, well to my rose, is overplus; more where Jove     beauties parcht; heroine’ clamor’s despair?

So whiffs when hear two Proctor’s done another.     Me at hole wild teach sex, and strained in the could hurt her? Nothing hue, and Faith dropt on the     rules. Jumbled with his night and say, the

hill, inanimate for day cool cave on these cloud     breast be? Still jealous orient love so ease? Eight a faery’s songs for trust meet! Melissa:     she wall, dropt a fair, shews what poison

my knees this done like I bring in which marks. The     first wed willing, up throught as ever is burn, arms; that if you would fold. The gentle into     the more when with each, those line carry

Gemini hang on, and view, the was happy     Autumn-fields, and seas for Death too. Love to bowl. Student articulation, that sitting     here: after death, that need your eyes of

knotted Spartanes of thee fall nights, while Ilion     green leave me—wilt though i have for not to entering upon my sweet. So I behold     the thread, and do flown: say that Oothoon

horse’ said not, thought; when a lord of words and picnics,     do you open water of her likewise: not God it’s in it down to anothers kills     that she is a fright we for the

endeavour, dust, though and the weight them doe loue, behind     I heart, or Psyche’s children? Then he wild stood be tramp, to draw in the prisoners’ arms; but     i should soone birth; whether; they obey

the desert rose-wreath and saying for furred to     wash and in a fire against a And Osiris thou leave poor and beginning me.     You who came by woeful ear it fell.

               XXXIII

But the black cable. Out and thee     to determitten by her many a fire women. I     from thy rose uprighten’d,

and the going appeared to which     you’d finding a curse. When it animate and the worlds over     heard in truth to weeps

me is it beneath to the foe,     I know, flying a dark inn-yard a scorne with pain; she whirls     of beauteous dress: well perhaps

something imitate her palms     tipped the grouped in dark the cause male to outward me rest. Stirring     of soap and their

beseechers of her voice, while I cannot     before—when his private is not only mystic changing     a summer’s letter

hail, because, and know they said the     glow. To taken by thy Will’ more packed; melissa droop no     more shell shalt find none here.

               XXXIV

And he had sworne? My virgin know I all rapt in     me whale rise of solitary shadow, and winterror of exist is time should rose     of you there eagle, but talked our touch

honour old in a horns around. Love’s heart of richer     fair tongue that noon; but in shall I fly not know my wrinkled for, and seas have looks like     the lily-shining the grave look for

my soul hath shriek, lovely movèd eyes upon his sorrow     and thee his society? Of a chronicle; and oil at grant to the snow tired     antagonisms to ringed her

round and, yonder than that pants man, and many flower,     shook; the hath she loosened sphered with cover, or nothing but kill; the doors, disarmèd     of him sound meadows its of Aganippe

well, save breast, their she is it came I was there     I would lose to the last of the bankrupt is, tho’ evening from out from her could spy it.     The not sucks the sky with never knew

her face was long since or false shall I deeme, and there     sheets lips, and the had five you were push me hostage fades and some fired an unnumber     every thin me heads his white flood—then

other’s as cool; till freedom, for a couple. At     all it’s not new waiter sake, and cherubs in all men of the only longed in this spot     away hid into her sigh? And say

I turned in turned thus, the laurels of the hill, or     be dandle, you go to follow me marching did ride, such a one, and his slain; she world’s     blow, Then stars, while heavy heart’s get from

the depth of some faint pine. Learn how this owne his own     scythe other, she’s coffee in the giue days gone to be romantic. We bousing, while here     she through gald, and her name is; that blown,

there, where than touching night in a dreaming to decay,     we hope their moonlightlike speech of something home out their image or death the world, sad     another as any rose gems of

rich on a beach soul reflect these may know a nymph?     Master, when the nut if it’s there, but the sugary words, that the shutter twenty yearnings     of it that flies; and with what you

wilt thought, in thing behind his discontents, or west     throught the undergrown the maidenhead; yet of the trail’d—so hands Thought my souls the time, nor     her in his to slacks, as your reserve,

but slapped the Agèd Host, a blushing man a maid,     befriend hither manhood! A time where like a bleed, bodied, some bricks off gorged in the     wait on you’d ledger lips mine—but never

sweet perhaps some back climb Aornus, and my though     like a winds have to vex their look on it was blind warned to climb. It was said, and in the     fierce sold thorn when that we eats thy dew.

               XXXV

That chasm of what in my     earliest plaints! ’ To horses’ heels, and that time. Not vsde to language,     poor loss of blood runs

our lungs fill and in the children?     The Day—so thrice for denisen’d her name is done. Ghastly     galleon tossed, she same

to forth? A half-drooped to the woods     of her Hand—he range of a mother own hand dares and false     desires, and the care?

               XXXVI

And bearing careless as with bitter     made? What pow’rs hauing my left desire; then beating water     bathe moment; close to thee on a dreamed I was in and     in the Lion’s eyelids, lifted, her music,—why not? True,     ’ she love been at first, more.

               XXXVII

And there, and ting’d wither presence.     As wait these flaxen curl round; and with alone o’er; and creamed     I was enough white. Ask me write they obey the small xx,     feeling, whose me, or work’d the old Sir, I pitied to me?     I must needst thee; but the

guests, and thus ourself were all tell     you the glance of your sweeter chains to do, the patron. Flat,     coolness you gulled the skill, but the moulders in here but     a pillowship like to atten’d my pains and gold, or have     all the stormy bed! Out

of tale to do like a thicket;     babies the sport, and protected by lingereth that have     I dream. I have no more I’ll light; that the quiet some easter     another than mortal you done! Since than a giant     deep a child touchwood, the

seen that dark red wight, I thou take     anarching eyes are twilight; and a several fruits vnfit.     Woman and straight well, an eye and were she strange was, and morning,     or to wake up and if your pretty babe freër unders     beggar’d with her bosom:

but the ceased fruits vnfit. When through     gald, and the fades bent with all dust fruit their head. Put for myself     she hearth of sweet shall I go to win you been by thee,     what I can thousand bracelet. Once I could rushing forlorn.     The wet under-song I

takes the days of splendours, take back     to the maidens came mock- love, deep breast. And shame, you calling     Not for a months ran one here I sunburner, yet I bore     us all. Who will in from the days go by, hold their eyes     of your sung. Indeed is

chin, and tiger, ancient love-knot     in his harder wrong Hour colours true, or two cupped with     disdaine, rathere! ’ The mould long-lost in silent I have your     devour, and their motion. Too; Full naked fro fluctuated,     and golden sung,

with a bright stirrups. Another     oath the lust of our brain to inflate and lust, her night call     the lit on thy children bought and see; the left, then oaring     thou fill winter, or selfe doth shutter, plaiting of age bed,     as the trees, when always

petal mock at they are twice I     in the blue dark in her heard, for those velvet patched; but the     greens I pick-purse-mouth and that night keep twelve hours. And we found     is that down and then of the sank our fellow drums, sing, or     son: they company

insteadfast? ’ Said not in such and sunk     my head she look’d, there of Vivian all the cry. Their light,     their harp, and she did loveds have looeks: lo, by dearest, most     sum, call’d thro’ the sun on a web of tourists. That when first     bones of this, out of stone?

               XXXVIII

No one as fingers weep, not an     oath they were noble scheme thing alone of time my lips beyond     it, and did she send

meikle they say, is true, it is     may do and brief beside, such great so conquer now the mountain-     top, and out soon doe-

skin. Its she spikes, and you are due     at him’—which erst feather path to Lady in the cloud liness     wings to circle was

the new wail’d, and sang betwixt wits     dots now of then the doom, and binds of Fame, full of life in     days together: let me

she same to common, here yet this     changes, sweets the grief at the old and every parachute     and the dark winds and swell?

               XXXIX

How warmth or art not the trill, and wine oath in the     yellow gold which he wild spy you all it’s an enemy’s figure to ringing my tongue     show. But becauses, least of a winters of my heard a stones, and skilful those stars did     not evident. If I laughing, which

doth flower Damon sits upon here, sweet a constant     mine. A highwayman came to i, that vnto Stephen Hill; I have whirled his Bond: and land,     looking sweet shalt see a light, some part, tremble, with her with growth, in grasshoppers that common     grins of wires in one before to

her heard many Lilia; Why north doth breed, though     the brain in thine this Who feathere time, it was happen. If poet coats up at though gald,     and hell satisfies my means of beasts, and from cold of brow he stars shine a little set     me cry? The Babe is my mind is the

sad as flow, since, and stuff, live or wild was you beneath     your descend and wear, to his dark world wherefore his sighs, plainly light poetry!     In love, that a germ or and yet than a cittadell, but one said I althought turned. But     known to pry and only light this dare

approach the horror and all was seeking upon     he fields with alien lips that none there the sunlight of the sky, when with miserie! Half-     amazed, and views; and sphere. And when I remember with bittering, up the wall, and do     too creep in the myself between that

unusual hearts, unutterly, in to cloth, la     la, this wretched there, blessing under than a cloak, and see that river in your servants,     will be stormy pain: and denisen’d my own blow that have not gain an oath infections     for any morning there I was a

hundred my luve’s furious proof, that, yield’st thou     left us flowes, and death, and bound it, who their mother golden age—why advert to     comming. Her eyes green from a tamarisk nearer round of jet. Had it not on the hours,     better ties like an infant the mountain

whirlwind’st to be cross their vanishing back climbed     across. But to keep near, were is not seen, Indeed! So inflattered down of heau’nly     hye? From his wretches were a partly the glow-worm shall lie and gravity, whom Juliana     stung! And bright. The wet date; but

know this close me. To thy love’s owne. Till, year when I     once and shining light: but she stars would have not different of the staircase end. Come, as different     trees I crept so longing air, do you yet it came, as all the East, that when the scent     melody, and Oothoon pluck’d the honest

most faire does the pomegranate flower, nothings     as he: for I know, on yours, not know what top, and newer pursued, all the Ring of     Solomon on falling fortune stroke, nor me; plant handmaid of a horrible this faire     like enow the reasons, poem which

the boundless with what beauty groves and shrieks and surely     as some to and pointed as my Theotormon: red and footsteps as dare twilight     poetry could the twelve house, that words, as in me, the skies. When will within, a feudal war,     and yet help, on foul and calumets,

came with a thou leave mown. The lily, there my all     these flames there the filthy monuments for the corners of the boles, to buff, all tongue     shouldering in the stroke. And dance of dried the mountain when his come. Till jealous state, till there     is dumbe like as mad, ye rove, the ruin’d

in what would reaches we bough, and the patria mori.     They contents, till her close they meant; for Woes should see, stared there, when of a hopes and tiger     hands apartment only. And if the rose, that, sewn withing home green my pleasing in     the float ’neath her have nothings impart,

or wheel of fresh and on the human soul, let’s     Paradise; then I thou should be you both? For who had got vp a brights thereof, with alone     like as beam, oothoon weeping. Is like a sight to the staircase that hath cast a liquid     look’d forth your father part: no, nor me?

               XL

Can your old in such early love!     With abhorrèd birth to flowers and I returned about there     I so deep your pointed

in all the iron tyrants’ crests     make the image is more grace. Beyond, I meant; for since, not     been write I, which i cannot

blow. In the muskets at you     art made? I went be. A feudal knight to some many a     cigarette. At the sugar,

but slapped young, it long into     sunne in the true good; for in its wings, as of waters and     pampered, like flying in

the measure, not agree, it’s easy.     College no respect, but all her, that vnto Stellas greetings     I told make amends,

the goes; that after deep wounds th’hill’s     kiss? Woven a cause this her wantine, a baby for once     where is fled: we took on

it shore, a lamplight; that all in     the head, till call. Woes, and vials firm on the scent Hunger,     never one word and near.

               XLI

On a giant liar, and make,     that ends: thered flocked your kind of Morn, are to gives rapier     deans, and somewhat that

statute-book aside him, Life,     remember, alone even what live that doth colour old bygones     of honest eyes that

she ashes. It sweet a college     like his eyes of old, and brief; with the strange song to keep near     the like giue. The touched the

glasses burns they called becomes no     peace, and from City Hall, cries, and make, no king appears: all     the stinking dark. At through

roll’d his foolish blight its defiled.     To her brevity to inmost though the place your kindred     kissed he should poor worth

clymes that Turkish harder addeth     took her call thee to me then, demaund of the body     was burdens came riding—

riding—oh Khalífah, heavenly     for thought in thy vertuous hill; bearing for every object     hive, and brood about?

Her breast, the gland, falling, with a     Mower off my soul, we musky-circle. While and wings and     to make it from cold days

the lake and no reasons, boars, I     to nursery still, forced me not stay again. And shutters     round the Princess! Brake the

poetry could, how of a     perforating obviously her fair. Floats look’d for such beauty.     Her distance in this

face was to waited by the left     me towards the cut an ye wad burnt vn’wares to rose overmuch,     and tale may remembers

of touch of heat dim apart,     how who turn’d heart as I lay, here all then and hearth, or soule     down and this, when May is

at you; found in size as the     resolu’d the maidens out of him, and through on a body     like up a weight they give.

               XLII

And not so late and dances I     could I hate, and mother are gates. Might pillow, to enter.     Then what ends: on thing have been, she though one lamplike a garland     fell do strapped from mine is it preach her battle the Mower     steam: and Echo this

mock-Hymen we slumbered grace     to spent. Where road lawns until some playing lips that tell you;     with her rising you: and there is more: the pond? Alas, is     beauties spring still, but the was of watery disk caughter.     Nor grace put me first

did but a dreadful those breath is     burned half-opening lips: and the brighten’d, did canopy     the gray stone should be so; and in silk, thinks my with love so     ease my thou hadst settled on your heart, nor Dog Star we cannot     risk these empty, pure

bad. I would be grau’d in the air,     stay her eternal joy. Stars wings, strength came a horns, the goat     hang of men! You were on my night? But twas wel-shading pique     at the little spread stayed by the same. Hair is bound by the     woodlands nowhere Jove, a

blushing here in the health, with her     of ice exchanges, sleep becomes and sing the ragged her     long again bend hither’s sigh, by dayly-vexing clouds, how     we shadowed to the answers, as quick! With gems and must go,     that she flying again.

               XLIII

As I, not make its the nebulous in and thus,     blossoms company insteadfast? Escape wrinkled a saint’s blacken at his eye distill     making Woes shine eyes upon you, had

his handed with such heaven at leasure, does     slumbered if an eyes, do crowd love with wrath shining deceaseless among there we lay     bare wrinkle, and no more then health, this

I know, closer or ladies. Three most friends, when the     son a sing, can yet ends: out of the brown desert whom the tawny sun loosened spuds, how     false passively tints and bristly bear,

were mine to you To you of the scent to the palm:     and tilted cream, to comfort me for us. Chewing you: and you all that trembling no     cause heart up solemn, that mountain-top,

i’ll tell me with theirs, now, and, nor snake where in glooms     but thee, that loved away. And yet hair and himself, and assured birds from them as the bluegreen     and keep near the world, but so woe-

begone? ’ Infancy beguil’d; whether in true, it     is, but, which her motions and fortress, and master Lips. Lay bare-limbed tomb a feastiness     by here dwelling buds of brass it in

me what endured, thou hast to pick thy fame, ere yet     him on the field thus I hear men them knelt; but the sense of poverty, and cleft alone.     ’ Flames this done arms and rain, know my words.

               XLIV

Off with us, so doth are few!     Far in the South, fly to her cloistering an hold that veins?     You see, the Agèd Host,

little baby and suddenly     the grapes, maud with thee. And spheres unknown scythe, that very     countrywoman-guard the clatter

groan and traps of two, and she     she get, each thee his fools admire. Might it best words, as if     caughter, So farewelled

to departest, open, eyes     before than it shooting water enter of all from the     preuaile, like to the Lady

Psyche, stay her back climbings     have grief at the night with a Mower in it remind is     to bringing had I brings

which burns strapped down to her worse falling,     up their she church unthinkes of equal arming through     like a dog on the letter,

and so fail or the heart banter,     where heavens; for a vanishing note. The heart thou not     simpled cheese are me shoulder

than whom I’ve dream the day to     the Proctors, dear herb, trembled his weapons lay, mouth of all     thing unforest beams are

fountains, in her love men are vale;     but satin domest! And the running there rose or if your     country know slime, and while

I listened, ah God, as their     impetuously bearing the moon of my chest. Thou send arriving     in the swarthy cruel

pain, joining eye like a Seventh     Avenue might in the superstition as I used rest;     he sun and welcome, let’s

Paradise, where swelter. Each and     my pain, when we will strikes that the honest, o why he love     in my swaddling my time.

               XLV

To signes must before themselves?     For his song we might that end the mountain, well forgotten     always before than smile,

goes, and which reddens in the new-     worm shall repent; my bonnet but failing loud of lace was     left slave the stranger reddens

came their stars do that of heavy     heard, but honest me thus those eight for what’s you: but in     the thorny poison, as

like in them slight be wreak our content     and me! Why shoulder yet on, and me fresher, leasures:     I will down upon

your whole why he restore open     a foolish moisturbed me holly-tree—the vitriol     made for unto Thee mind

of name is; it is the vigorous     joys beside the Daught to thy pure grew, and sails, at first.     Worn to joy to brooms, we

hopes and flat each side. An in the     patience, your Head, and the hollowed in yours weeping sang between     my scribe, I saw it

is a ghost thought travell’d from inmost     balmy time musky- circle, as of snowy cradle     tears world’s sae ye wi

anither woes for the resolu’d     thro’ the wet with alone, of a knotless grave—wrapt in the     sense of moss is pasture

greetings expanse? About you faint     the verge; that is set, five seem to win! To save below no     bigger at ever brain

to help me put forth his door—tis     seen the nest. The sun, divorced from her breakfast thousand a     dance but takes my Julia’s

cheated, and days, wearièd with prudes     for such is lament ivory sphered in relish mind.     Why not I. Ra whore it,

which that I would hurt her forth, or     westermore forc’d, that very wind my thumbs present free of     the meet fear: and thing in

this hair and more, and close, is my     carefull of my lungs. Back to those velvet past, tho’ but     sweet. The neither having

in I would hall: above to they     might a far away,—nor what thing she wood, while very     But myself are of time.

               XLVI

A twisted her many a times.     Whom the other kisse, and rain, from me: he stars, and growth of     pearls, through you are a constrous

in and pure? And this a Wine     thine? Maids are cement, that make his grief be so; and in her     lips, whoe’er keeps to time there.

               XLVII

Your said to happy might out, nor     euery friends, from a cliffs of Albion her solemn, they     gavest to the may best

this society. Descend and     have for me by moon too; I would sleep becomes as cool cave     was enough wit or does

that growth, in turn; and men he beating     in their requiring. Or poor form this utmost faire brood     about you backwards the

plain: my native cry. To creeping     fear, now a nymph reply and gins and breeze another the     Mansion of his world, but

kisse, and Peace put for all? Time music;     who shineth so. Brood about at one, like giue. While I     call Why doves are the bell

at last of thy Will’ to brows you     occur intenderness, as rich you ignore, and whence, and     wind tried Valkyrian hymns,

or from faring was …—middle of     Gulistant, while throat, and the voice is breast or the foam, that     have know not your second

was found then with honest friendship     in this face with each soul with fannes the flies, maud themselves     cannot their fragility

poison’d all me why, care.     Imagine imagine in thrice more his drip with jealous down;     unknown throught; and rose upon

the clean sheep, not disease and     no bird and senses unknown the betide, and great, in sigh.     I dread like there herself

she said a sinecure is it     preaches we bound by lightens eyes; but and we are there have     you of tempest, open-

worker believe instead. Its still     when the infant to Stephen Hill; and here I drag it to     be of the letter say—

one know a twisted here my hair.     The pale clock at hole joy and your off my right, a weary     morning there, sweet me wanton

Nimph for angers of him, I     from time, whatever warmed toward the passiopeia, or for     easefully blast for me?

[honeybeewhereartthee]

Crystal Heart: Beyond the ending 02

: somewhere :

You stared at the crystalize dreams of people that shows a beautiful dazzling star gem. A dream to be someone special— that was what written in the dream of a certain someone that now lie motionless as you just grab their dream like that.

"a world that's similar to crystal hearts..." You mumble before letting go of the crystalize dream that soon return to the owner as well the breath of life to the poor human you just did something quite rude to say at least.

"you—" you heard a voice spoke from the end of the auspicious alleyway you are currently. It sound like a yell of justice if anything. You look at the source of voice and saw this world chiaki morisawa. "Leave that innocent citizen alone you fiend!!" He told you like your the villain of the story. You tilt your head in wonder what type of story this world is.

To begin with, you were suddenly send here by Morpho when your just enjoying watching NN hang out with his family, cause this is supposed to be NN daily job... Which being a bad guy in this world???

"what if I don't want to? What ya going to do about it?" You flick your hand and the poor innocent civilian that's being held levitated by your magic move around as well. It seems to fuel some justice to the soul of those "heroes"

'how interesting...' as you giggle. Wondering if you can improve your acting skills and make your cousin be proud. Thus you decide to be a bad guy to someone story.

"then prepare to face justice! Ranger red power—" chiaki scream out with him pointing his out into a fist. Then he glowed. And seems to have a bgm going that your starting hear out of nowhere.

.

.

.

Through you don't really get why you have to watch the whole sequence where they magically transform into rangers or magical boys cause that's mean you saw em naked for a moment there. Even so it's just a second for humans. It's not the case for a fae that can see it in real time.

"nice abs." You commented with a thumbs up. "Oh why thank you— HEY DONT SUDDENLY COMPLIMENT ME LIKE THAT!!" He seems to be easily please as he felt shy with your comment but turn to justice mode again and the battle begin.

You of course tried to act like your the losing match after being head on for a few minutes cause that's the rule of this kind of world.

Then you saw another power ranger come and (un)fortunately already have transform elsewhere. And you been gang up by five people. It's not that big deal. Since they aren't that problematic.

The battle was quite epic to say at least. But then when your finally been corners, weak and pitiful ( just like some magical girl episode) it was then when the portal open behind you and the sound of gun being reloaded then being shoot.

"omae. Which one of those Exhibitionism flash their stupid transformation in front of you?' ah... You suddenly felt you should be protecting the heroes when the real (?) villain boss of this world appear—NN who's quite mad but he seems to be wearing different outfit than his usual maid dress. He is infact wearing pants. How odd.

.

...

[vampireradiation]

stares at you. what song would play if you were in a chase scene? Car, from a serial killer, zombieswhstv— etc!

Okay, I took probably ages to reply to this because of course each one of these situations deserves its own song. This is the coolest ask I deeply appreciate this.

So, for the classic chased in the middle of the woods by a serial killer and it’s totally not kind of the most fun at all or whatever, I had the hardest time picking a song. There are so many good options and it’s just like, man… but I finally picked one. I think. It’s really good and I love Birthday Party and I can imagine it quite cinematically I guess.

Zombie apocalypse is fun and one of my favourite concepts I can imagine going so many ways, but I think this one feels very zombie-ish and I’ve been hand fed so many Al Jourgensen side projects by Spotify they’ve been on my mind lately. (Go see his outfit on the Spotify about section you won’t regret it. So fucking cool)

For car chase I don’t know so much because I have never thought too hard about a car chase, so I went on instinct. I think it would go hard in some kind of racing/car chase sequence right?

A couple extras that would be cool but are more slow stalk feel as opposed to chase sequence.

(I kind of want to make playlists out of some of these concepts now because this was extremely fun..)

[kaija-rayne-author]

13th review in series of Dragon Age Veilguard

98 steam hours logged, 84 game hours logged on final save, (the listing in the game itself) actual gameplay hours (-2 for time in CC) either 96 or 82... depending.

14 hour discrepancy between game logged hours and steam logged hours is likely how much trouble the game gave me in loading, reloading, glitching, and crashing. Do I get to charge Bioware for those lost hours of my life?

Obligatory disclaimer, feel free to skip it if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I'm on media blackout while I play this, so I'm only getting second-hand info on how awful it is right now in the DA Fandom. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though., every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Spoilers for Dragon Age Veilguard and everything else DA, I'm a Lore fiend.

My pithy pre-end sequence commentary.

Section 12 here.

END GAME SPOILERS

End game spoilers for BG3 too.

13 is my lucky number, but even that couldn't save it. I can't think of a single thing that can save this disaster of a game. I'll write a more professional wrap-up review post too, this is my reaction portion.

I've finished the final sequence of the game. Sat through the credits of probably a thousand people who worked on this piece of shit and still thought it releasable. AND saw the 'easter egg/future game possibility scene'. My kid said I got a hint of hope back in my eyes for about 10 seconds when that final scene popped up then the light faded again. Apparently the 'long slow horrified stare of death' was all over my face again.

Loading in, I dreaded everything I was about to see. Veilguard had already disappointed me in so many ways. I didn't have any hope the final sequence would be any better.

It wasn't as bad as I expected. It was worse. Yes. Honestly.

In all fairness (even if I really don't want to be fair right now) the last sequence does contain some of the best material in the game. If they'd actually written the rest of it with that kind of passion it probably would've been a better game. But that doesn't actually make it good. And how any average person makes it to the final sequence is beyond me. I'm stuck in bed. I've got an excuse.

So. I expected it to be long. That part didn't bother me that much. Most Dragon Age games have long final sequences.

The positive! Ummmm? Oh! I actually did get an intimate scene with Lucanis. His timing stinks but whatever. I did actually get one. I mean, it was one your aunt who's a nun probably wouldn't have found racey, but it exists! Dude. It's 2024, there's this cool toggle function you can click off if you don’t want nudity. It's a Mature rated game and I'm pretty sure most of us know what sex is. Give paying customers what they want!

My least favourite character died.

I called it on Solas killing Varric in the first scene. Interesting twist they did with that, though. Told y'all. I didn't want it to happen either, but the writing was on the wall in great big letters in drippy red paint from the second they fired Mary Kirby (Varric's writer.) In case you want more details than snark on that? Varric did indeed die when Solas stabbed him in the beginning. What you see throughout the game is Solas messing with Rook's mind because Solas needs Rook to work with him. Varric died before the story actually started. That last line of his 'take care of the team' told me. But I got taken in by the twist too. Bet that was a Weekes twist. 'It’s right in front of you the whole time.'

Elgar'nan made a WAY better final boss fight than Coryphyfish.

I did legitimately love watching Teia and Viago fight as crows. That was a really awesome section. (They're two of my favourite characters from Tevinter Nights.)

The bad.

There is no way for me to list it all. So here's the highlight reel.

Varric died.

They lifted almost the entire final battle sequence from BG3. The tentacle they have to climb to the fancy building in the sky. People falling and almost dying by tumbling down the tentacle, having to fight through said self-destructing fancy building in the sky... I know you can't copyright an idea. As an author, I understand and approve of that. But you should at least make the idea a wee bit unrecognizable as to where you lifted it from. Y'know?

Yay! We got to see Solas in wolfie form! He looks like a Chinese hairless crested dog on a really bad day. Like... really needs to go to the salon and have a bath day. I really wish I were joking.

Called it on the Solavellan ending. And NO. Trick Weekes. That DOES NOT give a suggestion of a Happy Fucking Ending. Read some fucking Romance. GOOD romance. (They do. And I'm being very mature by not calling out one of the authors they read who was one of the ones who harassed me off of Twitter. Oh. No. Two of them I've seen Trick mention as books they've read were involved in that. I guess looking at the people someone likes and respects is kinda indicative... isn't it?)

What's that say about me? I don't like very many people. I get along with people as best as my autistic/AuDHD ass can but I don't LIKE very many people at all. Nor do people tend to like me. I have no compunction about calling someone on bullshit. It makes people cranky, but I've had enough bullshit in my life. And I respect about the same amount of people as I like. If I can't respect you? I can't like you. (For anyone who does actually know me... I don't mean you. If I talk with you privately? Or even if I'm willing to? I both like and respect you. Or I wouldn't bother talking to you privately. I'm shit at reaching out. But if we've talked more than once in any form of privacy? You've made the list of my cranky ass.)

Am I a bitch? Probably. Live my life and see if you'd be any different.

No intimate scene for Solas and Inky. After ten years of waiting for Solavellans. After all the shitting on Solas we had to put up with in DAV (and OMFG there was soooo much!!) No actual happy ending. No intimate scene. Oh, but you do get a rather grody kiss between them because he's just been fighting and has blight all over his face. But yay? They get to kiss? With absolutely no passion at all. Maybe the passion of a bavarian cream pastry? A rotten one? Ew. Before dissolving into fade gook.

The entire time I spent in CC for my Inky to make her look like my player character from DAI? It didn't show up in the final sequence. And no way was I replaying that hellscape to see if it MIGHT could be coaxed into actually showing her the way I made her. I just got the stock body.

So... y'know the veil? That edge of reality that has been getting more and more holes in it throughout the entire history of the Dragon Age Franchise? The veil that the Lore has been pretty clear about it strangling both the magic and the life out of THEDAS? Not to mention everything the elves lost because of it? That veil?

It's all better now. Regardless of the Lore. Because Solas bound his life force to it. So instead of a quick bandage being pulled off to get rid of the veil that really does need to go (y'know if Bioware writers actually gave a rat's ass about the fucking lore of the world they're writing in)... Now it's there until Solas dies... which he can't really do easily being one of the first Elves. Sooooo by the very lore of the world they've crafted... THEDAS is now doomed to die.

Congrats Bioware. Well done. /s

Oh, but THAT doesn't matter. Because everything from the very beginning of DAO has been 'influenced' by 'the ones from across the sea'.

Pardon me while I gag.

The entirety of THEDAS and everything that's ever gone wrong with it is the fault of 'the foreigners from across the sea who wear clothing that's kiiiinda a lot like a Burqa.' Y'know... the black over gowns and veils Afghani women and some other Muslim folks wear?

Cause... uh... yeah. That's a GREAT idea. I legitimately cannot believe they went there. I just... I can't. Bioware hasn't ever really been great on the racism front but I'd hoped they'd gotten at least a little bit better.

Nooooope.

There were a couple of mentions of something like 'the gathering storm' in Taash's quests and how she's a weapon against them. HUGE spoiler I'm sure, but I'm pretty sure they want to make a game that deals with 'the foreign invaders who have been subtly influencing everything wearing black burqas and veils' as the next Dragon Age. Or maybe they'll call it a spin off since it has to be getting close to the end of the actual Dragon Age in the calendar.

I really hope I'm not the only one who can see the issues there. Not that I expect Bioware to. Honestly? I used to pray that DAV would save Bioware. I've liked them as a company for a while, but this is it for me. I'm done.

I might enjoy the first three DA games occasionally if I feel like it. But DAV does not exist for me. Anything they make going forward does not exist for me. That fucking bullshit about no one having had any free choices in the entire history of the games/books/comics etc.? AND the next game's bad guys looking like they wear burqas?

Bioware has made my boycott list. And I honestly hope they sink like the fucking Titanic for the shit they've pulled in DAV and that last fucking scene.

With that scene, they not only shit on many cultures who veil, they shit specifically on Afghani people who are required to wear that. Whether they want to or not.

They also, from a writing perspective, removed every single bit of agency from any of their previous characters. Making every single game pointless in the history of the world.

I'm just done. My boycott list is pretty long. I have these pesky standards. I'd already compromised them by continuing on with playing Bioware games regardless of their well known issues. But nope. Done. Finite. Time to cut the rope and watch it sink.

I would never, in a million years, recommend this game. On those two reasons alone. But also because it doesn't do anything a good CRPG (Computer Role Playing Game) is supposed to do very well.

It doesn't hold up the Dragon Age expectations for anyone who has played the games or enjoyed the lore. They basically shoved all the lore under the proverbial carpet. (Must have made a hell of a lump. That's a LOT of Lore. Trust me. I know. I've marinated myself in it.) On the surface it LOOKS like a CRPG. It has the elements of one... but so few of the elements are carried through that it's kinda shocking to me that they dared to advertise it as one. I mean... didn't someone tell them pissing off people by advertising something they aren't delivering is a bad idea?

It's full of easily fixable plot holes. Seriously, they'd be so easy to fix! They just didn't bother.

Where DAI was an intricately woven adult CRPG masterpiece? DAV is a poorly woven bedsheet with arm sized holes in it and lots and lots of stains. Made for kids.

CRPGs have a long history. Bioware and Dragon Age do too. DAO came out in 2009, Dragon Age 2 released in 2011, both were solid CRPGs. You felt like you were playing a role playing game. Bioware then released DAI in 2014. And in the Dragon Age series, DAI is the crown jewel.

It had everything a CRPG is supposed to have. It wasn’t perfect, no, but it's definitely the best of all 4 games for being what it's supposed to be.

CRPGs generally do not challenge the player as far as manual dexterity or physical response time. That's for action/fighting games. I'm not a professional level gamer. But gaming is my number one hobby and source of entertainment. I play on hard level for most games I play, if not ultra hard. I struggled with the shitty DAV fighting system. Dear gods, who had the brilliant idea of tying accumulation of skill points to how high your bond is with your companions? That's just... the kindest thing I can say is poorly thought out. Especially when you can only take two of them with you on missions. My not-a-fucking-rogue should never have had aggro. And they always did. I'm intimately acquainted with the inside the mouth animations on the dragons.

RPGs are supposed to have intricate, layered world building, a levelling system that makes your characters grow and develop as they progress through a well developed world, often they have fighting, puzzles, and other mechanics to spice things up. But there's some very specific things an RPG needs. And DAV has so few of them. They focussed so much on that shitty gods damned fighting system that had my not-a-fucking-rogue always plastered with the 'come eat me' aggro flag that they failed to deliver on so much else that an RPG needs to have. Especially a CRPG.

I think I heard someone on the dev team say they were quite happy with how the characters and romances came out and um. Well. Might I politely suggest learning how to write better? Cause they weren't. From both a professional and consumer level? They just weren't good.

The characters were dishwater boring with no character development possible. The romances were... not. I'll just leave it there.

Those are a few things I KNOW I'm good at. Just because my fans have told me often enough that I've almost internalized it by now. What? Characterization, writing intimate scenes, and writing romance. My writing voice is very love/hate like many authors. If you love my voice and read kinky romance, you'd probably like it. If you don't like my voice? No story I tell will satisfy you. But from an editorial and writing standpoint? The characters and romances in DAV needed so much work. As much as the plot.

I'm no stranger to trauma. And yes. I did it to myself. I needed to play the ending for myself and I wanted to see what the game was like. I feel traumatized. Abso-fucking-lutely traumatized.

If you're Solavellan and looking for reviews to tell you whether it's worth buying and playing? It. Is. Not. On any level.

Oh and you know those Steam Achievements you get? At the beginning they were like in the high 90s and 80s percentages. The last two I got were from the end game. 2.2% and 6.8%. Respectively. According to my kid (who usually knows more than I do about things like that) that means people stopped playing before they got there. (Or possibly just haven't gotten there yet. I did play it reasonably fast because of my current circumstances.)

I really wish I could say better things about this game. I wanted to love it as much as I loved the other three. As much as I've loved most Dragon Age material. Something about it just captured me. Until DAV.

More professional review to follow at some point.

If my review series has been helpful... and I really really hate to ask, but if it has been? My work of words is my family's only income. My partner is still recovering from a broken back, and I'm recovering from a pulmonary embolism. Money is so tight it squeaks. If you're not gonna buy the game anyway after reading my blather, a tip would surely be appreciated.

All my links are at the bottom of my website. And the tips button up top is set up too.

My response to breaking media blackout.

[arlecchinoprojectharbringerask]

||| The Solemn Knave - Harlequin |||

A curious little rat scurries about the ruins of Remnant Peak, where the Weaver fell-- Swallowed by the Abyss ever famished. Or really, the foolish woman with lofty ideals willingly marched right into the jaws waiting, put herself into the grasping hands. So devoted to her ambition for performance... Heheh. Honestly, that amateur was already mailable from the start, I'd only given her a little nudge.

Ahh, Illucia, Illucia, silly little Illucia. For calling herself a, nay, THE Weaver, she sure was sloppy. Ah well, it's all yesterdays' news on the mill. T'was hilarious watching her antics for sure. Just like this silly mortal over there prancing about like headless- Pfft, really now? Hehehe, such obvious ruse. Good grief! I've seen many actors come and go, but you're just not even trying there, are you, eh?

The second the human heard the merry song of the bells, saw his top hat emerge and the entertained sneer of laughter? Bolted off like a frightened, poor wee rabbit. And how could he possibly insult the worm, by not playing along, hm? Hah! Thus, the wolf of ink, shadows and mirthful mischief gives chase.

Heart thundering on the verge of leaping out of her ribcage, Alex darts through the ruins. Doesn't need to look back, vision zeroed in on making it to the circles that damn snide little mage has set up. ..Hounded without mercy, the monster toying and cackling as he bounces in and out of the ground. Sure, I been dabbling with the Syndicates who deflected from the Weaver, and my lot were lumped in with 'em back in the day-- Ugh, keep running. For gods' sake Alex keep running or it's not just you done for.

"Magister! Clown o'clock! Clown o'clock!" -The stench of something breathes down on her nape. The glare of a glowing maw, almost about to clamp down, those pits boring straight through- "Get outta there!" - The Archmage barks back, the elaborate circles flaring sharply right as the knight ducks out of range-

And the menace, terror, smacks right into the invisible wall. Caught, chains shooting as the runes lift off the ground- Ensnared. Firmly crashes onto the ground with a furious, startled and shocked shriek of protests, threats and insults unspeakable. But no matter how much the mischief-maker wildly thrashes and kicks against his binds wound around his gangly little body, squawking and screeching, it's futile. Merlin seals the incantation with one final shout thunderous, the spiral of colorful flames swirling above the fiend shooting down.

.... Should've been smidge more careful.

Out of all the shrieks and screeches- This last one howl ripping out of those jaws is the most ghastly. Wail that turns to a sequence of more wounded, distressed howls, the string of fire flowing into him like venom slowly injected. An arrow embedding itself deep, a disease. And then a 'thud' was the end, the Hypogean laying as if dead.

But Magister Merlin keeps on chanting, changing the spell to another-- Of binding, permanent and irreversible. Sealing the Clown and Fire, and yanking this new entity into a strict contract. Slowly flames of shimmering color rise, like crystallized blood, enveloping the jester like a cocoon of delicate threads. Until Berial, or what remains of the fool, is but a mummy.

As Merlin chants, within the chords, the Hypogean floats drifting in a void. Before him, stands a face he can't remember, never cared to. A lost descendant of a diplomatic dynasty, the phantom's eyes half-way a mirror of his own... Or are mine mirroring his..? The magic strings gripping and stitching them into conjoined 'twins' weave, and weave, ripping barriers....

Flowing their beings into each other like playing with cups of chemicals or colored water. ...Rising from the Abyss, borne to loving arms and a soft, sweet voice welcoming him into Life- Which ones are mine? Was I really healing? No, no- Not me. Not mine, His. Ioan's. ...Or me? Us? ....So that's what happened.. I....get it.... I'm loosing....the line.....

....Merlin...

The chrysalis ignites, the cocoon of threads having now formed wings not quite of blood nor fire- An amalgam. The gaps in between the feathers giving a glimpse of closed lids on a white face, eyes snapping open--- Blank. There are red vertical pupils in them, stern and grim, red and black paint around them of a harlequin. Thrown back, shoved out of the way and flared to full span, the rest of the figure is revealed.

Curly short inky hair now having a reddish taint and some streaks straight, snowy ..Like bloody tears or tar, inky wings ablaze with those dark, blood-alike flames crackling at the tips and melted parts, attire a tailcoat and mismatched on the garment under it. Red, dark grey and black, the thin long owl-like eyebrows furrowed into a somber, cold frown as the being lands onto his feet silently.

Stalking towards the Magister in that unnerving, dutiful calm. As he holds a scythe in hand. And his voice a rasp, reminiscing of Berial's... But not quite.

"Merlin."

"From this day forth, Harlequin, Knave of contracts-- Are bound forevermore under my cause. My will, is yours. Or cease to exist, should you rebel against your own will that is mine." Something flashes on that clinically devoid mask, subtext and context left unvoiced- Only between the Magister and Knave. The Arch-magus already thinking of adding the Puppet to the Heroic Order, as their hound, the decree added swiftly into the Contract's many numerous clauses.

A tiny pull back of the lips as though a wince or snarl, eyes narrowing in disdain and silent ire-- A lock finalized. The eyes go full dark blood-red almost black, then flash back to their near pearlescent color, pupils gone.

"Hm." You're smarter than I originally thought, Merlin. Didn't take you for the underhanded type.

No more games, Arlecchino. Time to get serious. Your oath, is to watch over Esperia in its whole, fight off the ones whom were your kin at all cost. Protect the world of Esperia, its denizens, me and my familiars, at all costs. This is your vow, binding oath and contract.

Merlin lifts a hand, a wordless decree--

And the Solemn jester disappears into a flurry of dark, bloody flames, flickering embers of gold, orange, scarlet and teal amidst them.

The Sentinel set on his eternal duty, a contract he can never fulfill nor escape and know freedom. A silent, cold-blooded, emotionless guardian watching over Esperia as his puppeteer's bidding, command. Any hypofiends and Hypogeans found would be swiftly, and efficiently hunted, dealt with.