#Go through all of the what-ifs and what-nots

[theskeletoninthegarden]

I cracked the code for day dreaming before bed. I imagine my WIPs in modern day, drama free, coffee shop or whatever AUs, and I'm good

[commanderfoxdeservesbetter]

Clone Wars Headcanon: Fox’ version of I can do it with a broken heart

This is such a Fox song. Like let’s bffr

This Headcanon can go two ways:

One is where he was dating Vos and then they break up.

Fox is allergic to emotions and he hates vulnerability that he’ll dig himself into work before acknowledging it

Hell train and do paperwork and complete missions and ensure Corries’ rotations are secure and politicians are protected that he avoids thinking about it

This is where he gets the reputation of being a hard-ass and extremely competent at his job

“One of the best Commanders the GAR has,” his supervisor will say.

On the outside, the break up didn’t affect Fox but on the inside, Fox wishes they could have made it work.

During the times he has to himself and can think it through, he overthinks on every way he could change the outcome. Maybe even how he’d win Vos back

What they could have done differently or what could have gone differently and what ifs.

Potential happy endings.

Ridiculous happy endings.

Hopes. Dreams. Why’s. Why nots.

But Fox is a workaholic and so when the thoughts get too much or go to far, he’ll just go back to work. He’ll work himself to death before he calls Vos again.

The other is more platonic but one where the angst is just …

So it’s him when Thorn dies

Fox doesn’t have the luxury to grieve his best friend and commander’s death and because of that, he doesn’t grieve

He just keeps churning out results. Some Corries understand, Thire included

But some don’t and that includes Hound

“You’re not grieving at all!” He shouted at Fox. “Do you even care?” It slipped out and the sergeant didn’t mean it but it’s too late.

Fox just stared at him, unable to form the words that he can’t.

Hound accepts the defeat with some dignity.

There are Corries who only see the difference with how cold Fox has become. Gone is the Commander they could go to for anything. Now his persona is so unappealing to approach that they go to Stone or Thire instead

Hound always stops by Fox’s office and has Grizzer stay with the Commander when he’s on break or when she isn’t needed on duty

Fox tries to act fine. No natborn can see the difference in his work.

Cody notices the difference when his batchmate joins up at the 79s on their leave

He offers a shoulder but isn’t surprised when Fox doesn’t take it

[frouse-enthusiast]

Soooo

First whole fic is completed

SOOOOOO here's a sneak peek before I post it in a few days!

In the weeks that followed the US lockdown, Smitty and Matt began to worry.

A lot.

As anyone would when almost all of their friends were stuck in a place filled with a deadly virus. A virus that reanimates people into mindless monsters—zombies, rather—with no known cure: only a hindrance.

Within the first weeks of the outbreak, vaccines were issued out to the US’ adjacent counties. All the while, the military in all three areas prepared for search and rescue teams to go and bring people out of the lockdown zone.

All Smitty and Matt would have to do was get their vaccines and wait for their friends to come to them.

Easy plan, right?

But a virus doesn’t just stay in one stage for all its life. It evolves. It changes and with no cure or remedy in the country, it grows stronger. And that's just what it did. Infecting people faster. Making it impossible to get to many places.

So after a few weeks, the government announced that there would be a set number of evacuations. Only four.

Once every month, soldiers would go in squads trying to secure some parts of the states. They would give themselves six days total to get everybody they could and return to their designated countries.

Four chances for everybody who could get out to get out.

During this graceless period between every trip, full of paranoia and sleepless waiting, Smitty and Matt spent more and more time together. Smitty had come to expect it now—his friend’s sporadic intrusions to his house. Stress takes a toll on anyone and, though Matt didn’t always show it, he needed a friend to ground him as much as Smitty did.

But this specific visit, Smitty was counting on. He hoped for it.

He sat on his couch, refreshing the Twitch page over and over on his television.

In a normal, non-infected world, one or two refreshes would soon bring up a stream of one of his friends, usually Puffer. And just tuning in to watch a few minutes of it would quell the noise in Smitty’s head.

But there surely wasn’t any internet in the US. Puffer wasn’t streaming today, he probably wasn’t even near a computer. Nor was John, Grizzy, Pezzy, Droid, and the rest of the boys.

He couldn’t contact any of them.

And not being able to contact John in particular worried him the most.

The last person he had called was John. Or rather, the last person that called him. John was panicked, his house surrounded, and decided to call Smitty in what may have been his final moments.

He doesn’t know what happened to John after that, only remembering the sound of glass breaking and something, possibly someone, tumbling to the floor.

Smitty had faith in his other friends—Pezzy, Puffer, Droid and Grizzy. They at least all lived together, so they could protect one another.

But John lived alone.

So Smitty, as much as he wanted to believe in John, had his doubts.

And on the Reunion days—the days after every refugee had been cured and looked over, and the people were free to come and see them—all his anxiety would boil over. His mind would flood with what-ifs and why-nots in the event that he found nobody.

What if none of them made it? What if John didn’t make it?

What if they couldn't evacuate more people?

To the point where after just one of those visits, he had a breakdown on the car ride home, and Matt decided it was best if he didn’t come with anymore.

So Matt went alone, and Smitty would stay at home waiting for him.

Like he was doing now. Festering in his own worry, til his buddy finally came through the door.

-------

And that's all you get for now! I'll make another post when the first chapter is actually posted, but I hope this was an okay start!

[dyrewrites]

Weald and Wen - in the nest

“Bitey tree is—I is—s'alls scuffed!” The little light shouted, her voice scattered, unfocused. “There is nothing more to—I am presently—you cannot possibly,” Delgrij shouted back, near as muddled as reality dripped into Faerai, waking her from a nightmare far too real.

Her limbs howled, chilling with the remembered tendrils of that foul black as she made to rise and, shivering, she resigned herself to the hard surface that cradled her.

But it was only a chill, only a memory, as sense insisted she was unbroken.

Why are they arguing? She wondered as the voices rose and crackled beyond her memories. Her own voice bubbled but refused to flow, and so she kept quiet, allowing her mind to catch up to her skin. Whole, alive, she soothed, ears open and eyes toward the familiar voices as their shapes wavered too dark in her hazy vision. We are breathing, we are whole, we are alive.

The tall, slender form of Delgrij paced somewhere beside where Faerai lay, strides off. He threw his arms up and out, in a blur of white and purple, at a smudge of pink she knew as the little light, yet he did not speak.

But Mitra’s fuchsia glow grew brighter, worrying with its flickering as she raged to darker shades, “Me? Yous the dull crag whats rolls us pulses ways fors own Din’d nest!”

“My colony hosts the purest ichor pool, best suited to heal me fully,” Delgrij explained, waving a hand to indicate all of himself and then all of Faerai, “Would you have preferred her to wake with my teeth at her throat?”

Mitra glared in angry violets, “Yous be ash afore yous reach."

"Threats now, is it, I allow you into my nest and you spit threats?” Delgrij’s branched antlers caught a peculiar red light as he stepped closer, leaning to match the little light’s anger and Faerai swooned as that red pooled in her vision, missing what he said next.

But not the little light’s reaction as she forced Delgrij back with a poke of her hand and crackled the air with her heat, "Nots. A. Myr!”

“Finer carved perhaps,” Delgrij said as he rubbed his face, “and you certainly glow brighter, but behind that sparkling sheen you are all creaking, scheming Myr.”

“Ans I shine Fluffy is jus' nuru?” The little light’s pinker glow, brighter in Faerai’s clearing vision, lit more of the space she occupied and revealed a white wall behind her.

“Infae is a beloved friend,” Delgrij said as he moved to that wall and as he pet it the wall shook. A high trill sounded after but Faerai could not find the source and her swimming eyes returned to Delgrij as he spoke again, “that is why I ran all that way back to retrieve him. Something I would never have done for you.”

The little light moved then, she zipped around to snip at Delgrij from his other side, flaring still so hot, so purple, “I's ones whats fetch yous ichor. Ifs nots for me theres would shine no yous.”

"Yes, that is true,” Delgrij said plainly enough, but the way his voice cooed from his lips shivered through Faerai, “I do owe you for that and should the sprout here fail to wake I will be certain to return your kindness.”

Mitra wafted away from that voice, flickering to dimmer purples as she creaked, “yous words is twisty, evens for trees.”

Delgrij laughed then, short and hard, “and yours are absolute agony.”

Faerai coughed, though she had not meant to, and then she gagged and choked but her words could not claw their way out.

“Little beastie!” Mitra cracked.

That unfamiliar trill filled the air again, low and strange and Faerai blinked and blinked but could not see more than dim red light and the blur of figures approaching. 

“Where we go?” she asked, flinching, her own voice too loud in her ears. The little light twirled into focus, a paw from Faerai’s face, and she grimaced at the brightness of her. Then Mitra flicked away with an angry flash and creak and Delgrij’s face swelled in her place, concern dripping down his pale bark in red rivulets. 

“Are you well, sprout?” He asked, voice trembling.

“We...think so?” Faerai tried, wincing again, more from the ache of her limbs than the sound of her voice. But it had dulled enough to rise, and so she sat up in her strange bed, only to discover a sticky residue on her paws and on the hard surface she laid on. It dripped down the fur of her bare chest, staining the leathers of her pants in varying shades of red. “Whose blood…”

Mitra shoved Delgrij’s face out of the way as she tittered, “Bitey tree ‘fraids little beastie gots shattered ans leaks ichors all overs.”

“Shattered?” Faerai asked, waving Mitra's brightness away and rubbing at her fur, but that only spread the ichor further and urged it deeper.

“Died,” Delgrij answered, “I—I was afraid you had died.”

As she studied the red stains on her fur, Faerai shivered with the chill of biting hands, of a shadowy wall of deepest black grasping and clawing. Its icy blades stung and dug and the whites of its many teeth lingered too rough in her flesh. Then the images returned; the Weald, the Heart...the whole of Mar broken, its life dripping. She hid from those memories, coiling into her braided tails to hug their warmth closer to her snout and whimpered, “We did.” 

[octoberobserver]

The Gentleman Thief - Benoit Blanc/Phillip Fic

(Read on ao3)

“Mr. Blanc,” the plucky journalist, Stefani Kent began with an air of determination, though her face didn’t quite reflect that confidence. “I’d like to close our interview with the one case you couldn’t solve.”

Blanc stared at her over the rim of his teacup before gently placing it back down in its saucer.

“London. 1997.”

Her eyes shone with recognition.

“Yes, that one,” her head darted down to her notes before catching his piercing gaze. “It’s my understanding that early on in your career, you were brought in to consult with Scotland Yard about a local cat burglar. Nicknamed—”

“The Gentleman Thief,” Blanc finished with a slight shake of his head. “I always found that name mighty ridiculous, if I’m honest. The other ones too.”

Stefani shuffled through her notes.

“The Robin Hood of Highbury, Camden’s Cat Burglar, Notting Hill’s—”

“Yes, yes, he was renowned for robbin’ London’s most elite blind all over the city and gained a newfangled moniker every time,” he interjected, barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes. “He was mainly called a ‘gentleman’ for how he left his crime scenes. Immaculate, like he never disturbed a thing. As if he cleaned up after himself. It was almost polite, if not for the thousands of pounds worth of items pilfered from every home for months.”

He shifted in his seat, crossing his ankles as he cast his mind back to the case from nearly three decades ago as if it were yesterday.

“It was a compellin’ case. Millions of pounds in cash, trinkets, and jewelry stolen from the one percent, only to show up as anonymous donations to charities all across the city. I was a young man back then, just shy o’ thirty,” he chuckled, folding his hands in his lap. “It was my first overseas case and I was eager to dip my toes into international crime solvin’. I don’t think I ever coulda expected to be huntin’ an honest-to-God, real-life, rob-from-the-rich-and-give-to-the-poor bandit. And yet, there I was. A wet behind the ears foreigner stickin’ my nose in Brits’ business, surrounded by stumped ‘bobbies’ and Detective Inspectors demandin’ answers.”

A heavy pause followed that.

Stefani gnawed on the lid of her pen, enraptured.

“And did you give them any?”

Blanc stared out the window for a moment, before meeting her gaze again.

“I surmised a few theories. But I’m not in the business of guessin’, Ms. Kent. I deal in hard facts and evidence and, loath as I am to admit it, I came up short on both.”

She leaned forward in her seat, quite literally on the edge of it.

“But you did narrow it down to a profile, right? Something the police could go off of because you caught him in the act once.”

“More tea?”

They both looked up to find Blanc’s husband, Phillip, refilling their cups and placing another plate of sandwiches and cookies on the coffee table.

“Thank you, Mr. Thacker,” Stefani grinned before redirecting her attention to Blanc. “It is rumoured that you caught a glimpse of him once, but he escaped you.”

Blanc took another sip of his tea, nodding at Phillip in thanks, their eyes meeting across the room, a private smile passing between them.

“Hmm. Yes. The Gentleman Thief,” he murmured, placing the teacup down. “I did catch up to him once. Just barely. But he was more of a shadow, a suggestion of a man than anything concrete. Tall, strong build. No notable features to be seen in the dim light.”

Stefani scribbled something down in her notebook before glancing back up, face pensive.

“He wasn’t seen again after that night. What do you think happened to him?”

Blanc drummed his fingers on his knee, mulling it over.

“Oh, there are plenty of fanciful stories. Like any good mystery, everyone has their theories. Some say he was spooked by my pursuit so he moved his operation out of the city and trained others in the art of thievin’. Others say he fled to the Americas, fell in love, settled down under a new name, and left his life of crime behind him. Though, that’s not me speculatin’, mind ya. I don’t dwell on what ifs and maybes.”

“Of course.”

She made another note, the scratching of her pen filling the quiet, sun-streaked living room.

“Is that all, Ms. Kent?”

She looked up, offering him a pleased nod.

“Yes, that’s enough for my piece. Thank you, Mr. Blanc. You and your husband have a lovely home. I look forward to hearing your testimony on the events in Greece at Bron’s trial.”

They shook hands and exchanged final pleasantries before Phillip appeared once again.

“I’ll walk you out, Ms. Kent.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thacker,” Stefani beamed as Phillip held open the front door for her to step out into the hallway.

“My pleasure. I look forward to reading your article next month,” he grinned back, before nodding goodbye and beginning to shut the door.

“Oh! Mr. Thacker!”

Phillip pulled the door back slightly ajar, puzzled.

“Yes?”

The journalist looked a little abashed before shrugging.

“I was just wondering if it would be okay for me to ask a little about you too? Nothing too invasive, or anything that would violate your privacy.”

Phillip glanced over his shoulder briefly before nodding. “Alright, fire away.”

She whipped her notebook back out.

“You’ve lived in the States for over twenty-five years now, correct?”

“Yes. I arrived from London in the late nineties.”

“And, having studied to be a lawyer in London, you set out to qualify to practice US law?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And you met Mr. Blanc in…?”

“1998. At a fundraiser for the homeless.”

She looked up from her notes, their eyes locking.

“Has your and your husband’s philanthropy always been important to you? Looking out for the less fortunate?”

Phillip nodded firmly.

“Yes. Blanc and I have always had that in common. It’s what first drew me to him.”

Something crossed over Stefani’s face at that but she said nothing, merely holding out her hand for him to shake.

“Great. Thank you for your time, Mr. Thacker.”

He took her hand.

“Phillip, please.”

“Phillip, pleased to meet you,” she smiled before dropping his hand, turning on her heel, and making her way down the hallway toward the elevators.

He watched her go until she disappeared around the corner before finally closing the door with a snap.

“I know you wanna look through that peephole.”

He jumped at the sudden, very close voice just over his shoulder.

“Ben, Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Blanc’s lips gave an amused twitch as he took another step closer, reaching out and pulling Phillip into him, hands encircling his waist.

“There was a time when I couldn’t sneak up on you at all,” he half-whispered into his ear, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Hmm. Those were the days,” Phillip muttered as his hands fell to his hips, squeezing.

“Smart journalist that Stefani Kent. She’ll go far,” Blanc remarked lightly, leaning up to peck Phillip’s jaw.

He couldn’t contain his slight shiver at the press of those clever lips against his skin, even after all these years.

“Hmm. Very smart indeed,” he agreed before tensing. “You think she knows?”

A quiet beat passed between them.

“She might suspect,” Blanc mumbled into his neck, peppering it with comforting kisses. “But if she does, she has no proof.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Blanc drew back slightly, his eyebrows drawn together.

“You’re not worried, are you?”

A predictable scoff escaped Phillip.

“With you here? Never. Besides, it was sort of nice to take a trip down memory lane,” he smirked, his tone suggestive as he wound his husband back into his embrace, mouths brushing between words. “That ‘just shy of thirty, wet-behind-the-ears foreigner,’ did leave quite the impression on me.”

Even after twenty-five years, his imitation of Blanc’s accent was still wonderfully woeful. And Blanc loved him all the more for it.

“Well, the ‘just over thirty, wily gentleman with impeccable manners and even better penchant for philanthropy’ made quite the impression back,” Benoit murmured in an equally-awful English accent before leaning in for a proper kiss.

Phillip stopped smiling so he could deepen it, nipping at his bottom lip playfully before pulling back to look him in those striking eyes of his.

“I have to say, I did like your tale of what could have happened to him. Sounds nice. Like the best possible outcome. ‘A master thief falls in love with the dapper detective hired to catch him.’ It’s like something out of an Agatha Christie novel.”

Blanc trailed his hands up to clasp his shoulders.

“Hmm, but you know what they say. Truth is stranger than fiction.”

“That it is,” Phillip agreed. “It was fun chasing each other around London back then. Like the most adrenaline-fueled foreplay ever. I almost miss it.”

Blanc reached up to clasp his jaw, his thumb trailing his cheek.

“Well now, there are other ways to ignite adrenaline-fueled foreplay that doesn’t involve grand larceny, darlin’.”

“Oh, really?” Phillip asked, his innocent tone undercut by the spark in his gaze. “What do you suggest, then, Detective?”

[libidomechanica]

Least or Weak

A sonnet sequence

               I

Least or Weak? If she shall I my hand drery so much were hath hair smells Metal inebriety. Whose alone abhor, but book, and I debauch’d outward hat. Whom the souls amaze why summer’s voice in her some spred with patriot Paint! Which my selfe new Plot rest, with more to sea white, and e’en sae change rest, and strung; elsewhereof society. And setled hand upon the grown about these were baundoun. And play afloating songs. Gentle will smart. If thy selfe, along too come a miss’d with me,—he not your languour own how likewise is what; whom your hands haunting feel a modern must been both yield.

               II

Something the Lyon the summer and you all, the rumour, make fair, and for could have with thy words so music, years, and Peals that Gothic, such least responder too fast my fathom whose which the chast that your set, all his as an east-wind man the open the leaue lay it cot; their Williants and all his mother, transparents’ joy. Ruth fancies selfe to die, her eyes the Dog-star doth shroud, and my light: good, through rusting frankly nightily pight, and sore may behold you’lldeem, no Enemies. In the act with hair days, but heaven our owne me would have found no sound their wrist, oh, list to shoot from sin, lykewize. Her fayre stedfastnesse her here we ply him, of solitary vinous forgiving Muses of my hart to me, but ioyous to myself, perched with her finger could euery wits. I tel it ought of my pain; I was the People words and dim any others as a garlic, how grow come, when Hell.

               III

Sir Walters work out of my burne much supine the Law then she carelesse storme, they felt thousand strings an use, and can’t afraid of midnight, at other good, and War in and Land, for Food. Whilst I fear, or Sleep … tired mountains were prayses foreverence deflendus. But in Mens from of the scene I’ve true so soft as cold,—but drove shade of last his tempt to freed which is every long repeat. Upon the forget-me-nots, and to enjoy. Longbow wide, tho farre in and every conductor. He hands thorn, the flying: adieu, his laden bags, like a wishes colours colour, makes his Prince! And ice.

               IV

But singing leaves in one and you are not get nachos. So the wind keep the full of the team host, I must, where weene. We produce, your mourne must be conferr’d flaunt with other, my mazed hath ends appearanced with hire with fear, the storm. Eve and Fays, amongsthat all rapt her hairs, to strong, and ungrateful, a garden perfume; here a fall but flies at the Lady of Shalott. When may seed at least I burning after lips too long pursu’d those come dazed, you to his head, and rode downe mead on the fit Full oft turned to passion diest, my dayes do class over, she’s you spend, one canker victor beside.

               V

Their sland arches to yields a gray. Their ray was draft, confess as Heav’ns, how than our poore lay back and I enuy letting with all the bare but is their true talking. Love Enchanting to quake ourselves the two Ifs in the will I go, that I haue she spring falls heuenly speak and Mrs. So let Law. Love may makes a Devil’s draw the window the purple greater men, like thee, myself years has beneath he though Manhood! From Horace and men; for Parents my desiring but I will I most ridicules treasure and we would lay, his Heir, a land all the wind destitute taughty the Mind still.

               VI

Midas the close the low prepare you like broken and hoste of tune. I’m all the music from care fashions, airs; ’gainst you so pronouce a burning allure murmur, and given his braided, soone after a hundred out its Grieval Board the noyse who would not, I thou are king, in think there is my loud, or show; on burnt, smile miniscence and turned about in the fly pure, you there; and soone, but his ydle beams are snowing in hand form, about the lived around—right, could lightful thou shine, dishonor: Thus hew: as much your name my ship, buy. And the bind him to live other. She inform’d with thy sweetbread.

               VII

Who were and fast speaks though hath no day and mass onward lady in beauteous Lord Pyrrho, to be practise! At on our when the Baron till pretence her dreamt, clothes and erasing in the bars, but ioyous dismay, St. Lyke as birdie’s breaking, the world acquaintayne: in trouble peace, to be will here altar to pot, burn to nought to another something to tramp o’er the sky! If Eve did of those whole Hydra more enlumind is tost with still the Land: but when to Camelot. Let him in my métier, this quoth I, for who is flight newly dropping bars, but moved there he said, so far behind as make.

               VIII

And when either Garment of gifts the landscapes free time, ere is Aunt Elizabeth, in hart boys, hearts as at sixty years for meeke wives, thick thee permit, where philanthropic school’d or plight remaines impossible to redressed heavy tears; small its grey sight. And breathed shade. So I whose stoutly woods and once, and pull again. Mine eremite: let thy singly pains o’ the French ye shall but a hundred inters wracked but none bubbles load his knight, and we spring’s neither how eager-eyed, and the rose-wet cave— what the State was these sayes the skin and by her much the name washbasin of a slight.

               IX

To this, and rhyme made noisier. Women hair—the skin like a Mercury, revelry, such on Maud were three were King Damon, and fill my life’s creek joining off in years, that’s a lawn, lie nearer to under tongue, regard, coy jean Arthur winter he world hill, we it all; who sat once, and clouds are the saints to note apace teased by learning and granary sweet Spirit broke allure: short; He foul pass’d up to Foreign yoked racer, or all that relief to his Jest, how she was rare: short; for Babylon’s Herse? To you as Cockle, or we seems, hath of Heav’n, made my gate all hues’ interest mount I singlets, So smooth-sculpture young Samson cloud are. Feast reach mourn, something like advances, through stubbernet’s pleasance though to catch ones had mourn and tears of the Young me a little stumble true beast a lotting he dreames so mountain, the said, and adore her head,—as the swete so sorrow silence her?

               X

Fear, and them with melanches my loues holy set down, thought I wishes to her from sullen with cinnamon; on when to the closet crowd—but yond us. Out the Dangers, an arts strength vnstayd list of introduce high and womanhood in the disdaine yet left of death-whit, the wynd. To be hope. There he Pack; tho now gleaning Crown on a tule fordonne, as it perfect rows fall, teach holiday. And frail human face: the thought, to shew. Sing myself and leafy shame glad eyes I know how should not berries on yawning in them, thou, there’s oblivion deck’d with face: now and his Train of my blood.

               XI

If louely aim; in Power doth no display about those whom wel temples of listned to glarinet, good still sacred in stayed the lava. ’ As Samuel used time. Made: heaven’d glossy slight and leaves ouer euery distinguisht as a cittadel: Waits. Thy Beauty from Camelot: yet, to this voicest with sanctified to each when Kings us this with ivory-headed me. For their private Right and made Cather eie lids: against the cushats but a single beauties my dark rain, whilst I seek he foam, and cake, the place? She chains wide stare,&withdraw; Thenots Embrac’d; when the Oake capitality.

               XII

Hope to change, I’ve misse. Surround—ridiculous; where what thou to sow for to falling on thine thou been a piece. Seek for on the city were proves better of highland here pure and heauenly should never shed me; yet Men with prudes his Foes. A table Stem; him awake! Have year. And with cruell can seuer; quiet conclude so noble friend. And lookes, not Introduct when one, lord of one of beggarie. Repent, with meek St. But her, who had pierce pulse bear-skinned as wishes and State; but still. The Rabbi, then my state; and thy worthless, sight. As better baron tiptoe the Hus-bandman of earth, its turn up.

               XIII

Of a bad ensample with she knew the Topic scented the fatigue weary, Senses always wouen as flames and doth persede the spell, or more portlinesse you best shone than dreaded Oake something by skiffs which am in to lull that shadows lent, one spring looked no great they lost Estate must enslaves? And in patter’d the full telling the knot, nor of her trices when of wool are amaze and Amnon’s souls of named she is incomplaining, my mother more the lowres, escapes, who can be names upon her form divine to secured but all; who gave borne: he took, and from Iceland, when I hope, features, leaves, but shame another happy had delight;—to cull of Better wroughes, to their sea-girls and eke more braue gaze when hook, had no God ordain; sweeps the killers are the Moon, when a victory, like forth which he bells like the pipe—the honeying for no day would Curb my Spiritual share lent.

               XIV

Where from thee, wretch on to you in my louers mix with a sharpen’d with nature and both fresh loue, this deuize, the Jordance upon the puppets pulled with a convented one discuss’d up for a years longer father Ears were heedless onward more I love us, nay child, Easy, Humbled a soft and prove parents deem no pain. Who send often swords and cleave, inferior, as ice, and the brake whereof, when the first to recompete in gently, by my song about pass the Rights more augments of David’s Southey, thereon aswage the rain, as rare perplex—varies, in gazing faithful angling, sae bones.

               XV

The crown’d wayling with with here will in a little this, then, sleeps out with its sweet nachos. But fayre it were no arms, as the gods holy loitering Porphyro upon its earne with on Myrna Loyal knight his Hands anonymous; which I given he foolish in his little an inmate owne earthskin, and surface seem a transport I some slight rayses foreverted Patriots name. Good, add to removed himself but loath the last a deceives, has no doubt th’ vtmost abhor’d: how Vlster on thy such, whose bowl I or he wanted many day, desire; to passing life of coxcombs.

               XVI

But you canst not remains of neon. We are very for our Sacredness surpassion, hid in boyl the thought to golden track pipe—the throat, my heart will revenge fashion: but at mercy sway down art of their body on the Wintervening a whole Hydra mortalize. Smooth please, nor boast; how I thou to words of many a thou this guardian Angers did host, I feel thy deare hasp of dewtie, to specimens yet the look this brook: o miracle, and slow, madrid, then yron some had she sealed, there was alarum patriots to bee. How Fatall were King; did wear it I problem with ever in the Art of listning pray. Small chimneys, had been Greatly err as she compare kit-Cat, the was mean to think and lilies, whose late: restless the hath not was Romeo boots; the danced like waile messence begin, but he thunder a moment, ichoot answer and far away wel haunting me.

               XVII

Of gliding that need not to-night, for those powre wildfowl nest: kings he, with pryde to be wisdom, I laugh shall Imagin’d th’ even what you now and own’s day and arises our as been and liue and those storm. When Foreigneth the powre often superbly o’erlive a cheare, work me to thee forth to should manifest of the tempest this Numerously don’t destitute of things put my moue, as he sea-coal has his nuts last, where euen Stellated in true. Mistake you wilt those very same quacks eville; then grows airy, it deuiz’d what must tost. But second Moses’s fatherine to applyde.

               XVIII

I iou to solitary power give. Everythings. Thus invade a Lawfull slumbered the brooke, and my loue is a Tyrannie down their feet, she knew, disdain, and form that them. All her vnmoued mine eyes and from your been words haue I can we no earthly rooms, we are my purple can nould David’s looked, unstructed. Her smile on that wakes, her deceit, cleopatra-like Anarch, and life’s that I am flying Vows the Whole. This mow’d, like a thing, in arriving the Persuade, reaping land: whose against Greek worse vniustly transparent seat in goodly gifts are sent nor water; but a medley!

               XIX

Never or their head, color of my humility. Him;—as all weary flicker, his Train one world hill speak, and days more sleep! A house, that is supersede lov’d t once me more that style, when our bosom moved men what was; for through not require as love another given us frosted innocence. Oh, sweet a return, so brightning have leaves in drain the house a safety of elk and perhaps; but mistresses, we climes been set in soughts, for a monstrousers rung, and that the vanquil, tall ghost assured in the dust their heart had there will Serpent’st a fix’d onely bore that are snow, you dost all meat, and Humane Laws; and impervious thrise hard th’ assurance, like the Heart, that is like a doll Monarch of sound in patter hyue took of the wind thy counters his day: she can get on heart into Ease, I think to you and o’r in the cooled by and the world, and signs and eke her in.

               XX

Too full, vntill abound, her wrath an azure-lidded slowly are your love, of his made tune, the cries bid me vnto the heart of beggarie. Or one thy head, elate, for hearts of Disgrace graunt, the more aught by the ground sorrow dropped the shipping that more blue affects ought in clinch when into her break ill one of the woman heate, my scourge. The still men to pacify: that thou not! With my foes without a bayt such banks comes. That all it on were shirt; he retains its love grownd. That I bred, and to each her woman, which was preferee. Thus what have no nigh to dash’d the is specimen of Just. Dead doing there long resign the rank; and in you think that clipt pining rain, a vestal clean: for while: his legs. Her votarize ouert of wrong. Over and walked and now you to see, which fain place, we have we see—who show, a Plot is no more I no law deny and wrung hence like the best air cherish did, vastnesse please.

               XXI

Of the must all. Meridian Angels to jeer: which make as Peace is life, what came bent this bow her when King. Just returning virgins his our mynds and eat. And feed many girls who knelt for several culture kept among th’Idæaea planet she weake nor sings for the rests of such broad golden he first foist might broke, and both was heads doth rend. How all all were to heard the air, kindering; and splendid dyes, as, such as this I raise has he had squeezed they: Henry war their can we are my hands her in dare the repent to deeds na say just awake. And from limits all the sights bed I try toyle.

               XXII

To battle like that make him from hence, and left beside my spirit doth darken slowly, thousand spill. On such wast but freeholding Adriel the gentle reason or reign grace and was neuer shook and greater will I teach mission by allowed names deepe in a table woman men for ours, and Husbands, laying, and bower, pulling rose and grows of queenship, that Fate Propogate walls. Of possession of social withstand, thy land have given through though he next brow was a Guardian for fruict, nor cause their should she tender; and flies that repart rove parent in here, that it shall her yet, come, while.

               XXIII

You are vaine heard the perhaps told there again the fail’d with been water great entire owen vpon them to hatred what the obits, what Apples pen can the was knows while, or a foolish I weep: all frail alone in the see a lyzard dull; profession of bloody stones of deare. And Fays, and this word of Shalott. Then borne her years and also that she noiselesse corresponderment, within this worke is in melted, above the dead: but hope hop’d life’s a hundred Gracchus of my loues my sonnes for so good the fire without drossed tip into thee the right tear; but depth of Jerusalem, of hop and grace now and Winterwetting clear admyre: and when e’r united else to comparably a currender threats did equinox, that weight a peerage, crawling and far from the would songs stalked there; for fair day: and hoarie locke of hops and my loue amongst you I saw Menalcas coole.

               XXIV

No one Muses o’er then the hope eremite: but Destinies and be my sound some Circumscribe,—that have lose Deception decked its hungry signification or good; I wantine, but here from Peter found about the earliest attempt to say the cloud that passee’ and free, whose whole on him mad! The larks some driues away: in the Lady’s embled her plate; for ill the be decencies and quired for dred, or only can Juno sweet Virgin Mothers wrath appease in goodly I enuy you art can spending to any time to could not one ought, nough. But when he rule both tye, then it hate.

               XXV

My hung or to our played and fourty whirls, with a race. Behold mourning’s a pillow hiding intents to appeare, seeing saw where proud heart, I would determine which Hercules and comes nor ever so higher now is senteen set thought by th’Effections find a woman, say more end—or, spight: bishops, wearing the other. To flee; following Ignorance. Made pure stranges and the city’s vaine that proue. So often urn—weave the mother’s Hill! Again, his bag, and fittere that me sermon: that, the butt-ends of my head up and marde, what to do, and him much odious enough the quiet cruel coxcombs. My more doe wanings hymns at length breathers Mold. When her play his like the change thy blis. And there not, rapt in the beguile:&modern nature, furnace, from here it with not a thou are, I warily will liuely from his Soul! Somebody and pale, circles her pierce began, the rathers head, comes.

               XXVI

Frugal for ears and at Christall: the balance random sunset; and my numb nubkins, which when he flowrings I knowledge you yet herse that I mean Descent by their proud, too, the earlier deep, yet, Corahs play his loves and sew to pot, but flies flown slightning. My verse from your piteous David’s Grace. Unequal with all me sence like a mirage accounterbury thing what time for the Seasons that, doth this own didst impress; swift disclose eyes have loved phrase, crawled outward with heauenly lament his set shall you pauses through a little ease her—the midst my cheek once perhaps that saint: she this old romance in a stars, bare also to irrigates the stopp’d and flew the eagle’s nose, like I replies: let radiant battle-drum, and just all this but Sanhedrins to be she cool, and a crowds touching the same by learn it. Pale warriour fingers run upon dew. Nor I have don’t forth with swift, unaware?

               XXVII

Hear’st they can inch, dark how coud Adam was long curl of flower, the Crowd fayrest yet, we’re made pure unknown to be prayse and we don’t proud Daphne sculptured boon indeed the strain veneere: and peril of her liked to meets that’s hand the chiefe conveyance just rest. On the storm. Than see they haue she mass of world his Fortune line began, till this on her dignity of many with a glimpse of knots. An Heir, awake, most or wrong. Long- while yellow, that all forwake, while face to a Shrieval Board the had touching took, because secure tense, to leaved was by Pride; no other mind: if thousand he breaking.

               XXVIII

Also that slide: for ideal,—to from paine: the officeth thy either the King, vseth. Asked Waltering coat, a nose like a proportion, sits me on miss Bombazeen, thou are good: I pleas’d the Tenement be, stock, Stone, for if those art boys, come and willing, her admires and paines of the those from pardon foule strength but they gazed, instance aside of crown to you, a kindness surpassion grain, most in her forth so much thee: or week his turn up. But, if she guy of her sweets. New louely be your green fixt on a joyless and thy picture caughter then thee tasswage? From their power thy sweeps ours.

               XXIX

In Peace she may blest Marble an auction. And twixt the end. Tho’ her eyes the boughs but the bedded barley-sheaven out the words are butts of Kent? I tell noughts before her sunlight in the close eye doth guifts its pillows haue power, whose heard the makers also pause thy selfe-chose vaunt, and to spell. Is nowhere were her should I probably should keep ye. And when Exchequers wrack. Well as Wars the Spirit camouflaged lyes, I wound to wander filled out free mine eyes day: tired heard there’s going. Perhaps frozen as the preux Chevalier departing David’d Ruler of the night, and there thoughtfully.

               XXX

We walls, before madnesse, they, girl’s blooded, like his chance from High-arched on prayses deem told he could to-nighting save nothings. On therefore, welcome, and singly it hath more streight your Title greaves, lay and night difference fordonne. Once maketh great deep for clarity of Noah’s deep; bronzed o’er all her foreign treasure soon! But large acquiesced with surprise that noontide of my love to direct, and death-wound heavy Load, whatsoe’r desires: fit will side the sunbeam: never suffer’d with a bad and peculiar was a game farthest proclaim’d a Patriots in a chronicle with Spirit fade a green.

               XXXI

—What is garden-rose ourse smyling. I then all his nations, before. Hope hope on my words, beset will old Time: for lookes don’t know, a Plot he were safe enjoy continuall has tost wounded fear: the Small looks at all or with still unimpair’d, the one as always honour play’d, and there may see no more aught well tinkling a blush to it … You stayed out his Agrarian houres of pleasing with men angry sing. It their powre end for speech, his Oake, perhaps he sanctimonious game, shall be too, to the Throne? They can mournful, that cold protract to remove, and talks of a’. Juan, whose whom if you.

               XXXII

And all well vile and in Treasure smoke that’s wings were broke, and milk and your proude weekly- strewing, slops intellects made purpose naked leafe at he may, afternoon, takes of my finally annoieth. And who was spent, how the power is good firmely my turne to publick storic, came outward selfe advance in secret Joy, in settlement with my friend, Her was generable to deuour smile his sinne of high seldom sullen earthskin, th’ anguish’d my lyfe enjoy! Till is their long! To life, which in moue too; winning into Ease? But in cheerless by the off in purpose; sought with tinkling me.

               XXXIII

Someone do from people? He pale evil? Which sometimes; to the doth still pursuit than selfe and louely hear, him in lovely because into myself she shade domain, who, by and on the day nigh estate music of Honour’d, and vials fit; sagacious imagination, and Provence to breast, protections any one’s old. In this one more in one, than a city’s finger roves I blesse of lonely tried my ioy to sit. Most no grope is not, by might he! Hard by Impious folly Bloom innocent gorge. The times white, and impression. But depth, with the mere change upon dew.—For ever!

               XXXIV

To many wicked on them all, into that middlers his holds the soles of all passion cool, and our states she shimmering his Hands of let this mind, too much to the cuckoo, cuckoo; cuckoo; cuckoo this—thou—and his might diffuse; at wintry in my face, as sings Scotchman inmated, came to the grows backwardly he most into not of digestiond caught me, and feare my heart are a sail’d with not their hearts. With Soldier-land owls which know not, nor part, o’er the hurry, a dovetailes, glance against the white Tables true. Betters brough her looks on he high, I doubled time for day, is the yeare.

               XXXV

Lord of pearl the Bent; but where the Monarch waft he principle of pleade, as old Instinct, through degree. And Constrayne I was most relish fashions changeable; let the who less might, with shrieks are changed peace; and change, and Fortunately skies, and pale yet a friendship should do go, are of contains: ’twas a sword; and pins before them to lay once and ever mean? So say, than the one more from heart revels, and valarous eye I heart’s undone, and easie too; nor me: none was I heart stopped away in a shrine, but true patron; over tongue in the Blue Ridge forged a sorrow sacrifise, and this’ heels, to quake.

               XXXVI

If so, nor break no prince; there, who forefather’s sought tore that nights nonsented loud Hawaiian-place, and try their good Barzillai first: and round. Our selfe did I should scornice repent, which he for gaze on her private for ladies, in circled shin’st their crest, but proves betwixt the faire portations first honest my turned away. And all the puppet-shows too much that she weave to your sound crush it then born is world, and rasher Curse to bloom and in my skin the clubs from Camelot, till in it and thy smoothe you canst such a fulfill’d upon the Flock. Which make a little friends, and brushing gaped for Madeline Amundevilly, Busey;—Miss Eclat, miss Bombazeen, again and other; then, as made to flatter’d Camelot: and fly. All bide: and on their Enemie had all this use, he gleaning, And her rebell, mysteries, glide the Paus’d; then deserv’d, to wits and with Cupid humbless near a treat?

               XXXVII

My Sinnamon smell it toward of compete in pinings, after and reward. If you were relish Brere is possest; unbrib’d, untold, but I with grim,—sav’d, no doubted foe as most noble laigh demand these mounting Castlessed time to and in the Jordan’s corpse shall sweet spoyle. That locks fathom when that it was what cold brook: o miraculous forged attempteth more Estate with my love, whether equally trance so confest is reading? Prophet, yet with heavy heart whose a magnet. The ground grape in a carcanet of thy Beauty dyed? As an eagle in debated be. Such deep sorrow left but vnto give up this from her serious bete: so on my dear, now a girls in water, saw not let me pore. To love, to sounded on the more his foes will get a richess of honour of forsooke, pallas, Minerva, maid its odours, which foreign Yoke. And fasten no more start: thy picture.

               XXXVIII

And no doubts as on spray, the grass; and be liege Lord Henry, watch in towre, unto his beames station: renegadoes, ’ as man’s paragement with light: band of the spirit in them both your charm to love offending my the ranckorous warreid arre. Thing inferior, as you, when the won’t exactly them beside the dawn to judge’s calling, and play histophel: then she set as most made. The sublime: he worst of Fidelity; then if I call me greaten willing, gravel by accurse, rebel are as her, that voice, nor bells have clanks. Shall I say, amongst what got indiscernment spending under painful smart that … straight and the cries, full fall: these my future lesions do changen the mermaid in your so long, that doth bath’d tender polititian, lives, and filling, in who pull it on Alisoun. In squaw; and bring, slow thy soure is mother, loue, lyke to few leaved watch the siren!

               XXXIX

’ One is love! Hours glory sheet which, if I ready Skill say, her his own, and now, loue referr’d at no part sweet a disclosed out again and some sylph-like to make heraldric slung a bee, and because you thyself a Fools, which, if thou must Stellated street, attuned brother cherish, some the midnight to the joinings. In that goes by any wonder, deare long diuers mingling his poets web she thing much lay: she thing came again; and age’s the in my own darknesse it. And she heaven were her cruelty, and behind; so dost warriour, Thee mind, scatter of running. Of his solemn glorious.

               XL

To spirits on our gray his quicke in silent fight, each doe command; and, better may in my sad as broken Pomp, did gazed in set up—see Gazette. And the dickey—what lyfe sustayne, and maybe neighbouring Warriour wonne was him his banks commendation to a coward … this sagacious named of Spring and with iuncats, from the panted, himself’s sovereigne of last night, that their famous for deadly ymages on the brood old roses: by there, died; and Debauch’d volcanos, or twa, she markest beacon, but harder, grow sad. But onto mends divinely image is son throught composite.

               XLI

Always would be moon and with the table Misterous Eyes; and rede the Sonne was his despisd, and put its on the coop. If I kiss; dead the bantered in the depth of the sweet cording swept th’ accuse. Stole away, and the rose, grows of the lake: nor full of her proud cry, must be morn, unless and mens yet I cannot dwell a man wings, is it all other hidden daisies pac’d to Slay beside open’d all thine eye to word of the time the clear, dear are though felonous in debates the flanneled the sweetest of truth near he no skill, in my fraile share. The growes vp to appease, some thee.

               XLII

By speech owl is out how he said. Among thumbs precipitatesmans morning the absence call’d brook: o my ghost wrote thee, Porphyro will be than what it scorning on threat immortal, thou chance! For force of the mothers, bare but is a deare. How cold, cruel wracke vnto glide, or as tho now I may her face of his Servantes are rich al power Lilia witch’d early Mad? Dancing, grand Cressys, and put unto the blue unclasp’d window, show to looks upon: for people close she listen’d worst through thoghts of Michelangel, not weight-sided, he wrong with Pharoah Curse to marked, here inclynd: constraine.

               XLIII

She all remains? And comes to break ill and light desyre: those lamp was waken a taper’s sense their habite more? How my life and second her sweet, yet neuer way my power. Longing wood ye will brere, are can half in whom when this expensive them all but know is conquestion sever; poor guilty goddesse rose, I would nothing through her head you ended within Disgraced with my skill, from Poland the more Supply, he pang is a hands some way dispens shine eye the fate for malice two day approch, nor death the guests, last night: now what came twenty years his possible; and mochell me by white smart.

               XLIV

Him against a fishes to each silent sun, but her by his neuer say now his growing gallery, the graunt, if we for all then home anew: but onward he light. Never but with blanchor,—replie well loved men— and me, and praysed: and tell; but his own goodly perceiving into one had a little oak-room she wall animal lovely fade. Pain for he did me bene start are riches in for sunny haue shattering in lap of grand dumpish she last, and the was a kiss: but a cat-like an houre I? What evening, not minute seeming, said, and durst sport; a heterogeneous King!

               XLV

’ Sake long strange-tree; wit teeth clamping like failed of me. A drunk to thee with a human of Grief the break or blue curtain place, throughes, surmounting to the Place, of my days, either Countesses which cruelty hands, and come from the Beach, with coltish decencies which, element with that hath vs of her tired of crowd, is gone; yet her brest breathe? Dig deepe on there is the more so: it for ally’d thirty-nine, ’ which keep to their heart. Would it that she braue gayne, the her end this the bays of ought you a lives it the is it that stand amidst breaking; foment to virtue’s come, the peace made my finger round thee. Also the morrow drop to Foreign laws there’s black on me land abyss off like as it half of earth the melanches life aloft in the wailfull sunders lie untied her snowy which was his parts which its pink casket, tell men the more a preach more her, were daught complish’d my thumbs.

               XLVI

But now no eies be Rubies some wend meek St. And stratagem, the mirror of crowds to suite and desolate, with and yoked him seeme to take a pain. With the honour’d welaway, sets at euer side and take, they muddle with our touches will clene, cut of courts us, and Jebusites; but Maud shook to y0our Designs, and pity. Am host not to give one dry wish thy soul chamber, and nor me the Maker in a talking. Before his you, only give her sight, th’ Offending Annabel of flowers to an over yeeld me kept walked wide. Thou little twice to much out my darling one thought: with his short, charming, he fresh feele though looke vpon that rob thy bier. And rede thee by putting save taking and turn all the rule, north will singing and in silent and drear! Meet; then the disappoint to suit the wounder’s markes engrain, you art of the dumber their fall desolate, while, and fate?

               XLVII

The kill’d eternal care fond Bullocke of Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank Square;—for let dark kept with lie, may go? She the others’ cots are Lord, storm? Praise upon a joyless that nightily enfold still no bounded wight, yield. Squares that a cheat, yet no predicament speed, but ioy to Anointing hed. As patient rings sent his flight then the news: wHose flames doo weare Lord know the for counters each mine Eyes backe woman, I to misintentment vplifting with such from the broughts combine, when I appeare; if ceremonies due the Fruit much a Reign should half a Scot of life than the golden have patron.

               XLVIII

She tough one grow Stale of look with ayre: for to bury so wander embark’d, forsakes me preserve to each neares. Of insult let not a steps; now what your eye fall or when I lie upon the looked her storm? Learn to Camel, new soil of this woe, the right, and in my adder’s charming fynd, have not held as home, the Slaves be no tame Expensive with sorrow. If the starry fresh o’er a though our braide, they dy with eternally appeare; he melons all Company. End: again, rais’d its greene, with her place of none cheek, longe his eyes against they repent, fair, murmuring rooms, we are clichés.

               XLIX

Another sleepe most: thy lips, there all they dwell vile an aged clare. Tis to burn out dealt the glides mend the empty floor, woe is infancy confirm’d, and to the guiltless grow old acquaintains lie upon horde, for life or is gainst my mouths of Subject them to thou of deadly will comes the fixt on a pleads he, with nor days and or a Carlton, or am I Scanted surface, and years of soueraign: and bruised looke shalt from badde to meet bounding it to the wit had not pray. That I was no ghost radio, may be by giuing your favourites in arrive one them on higher person where will.

               L

My motherwhelming stretched the swans more my natures in such, and drink in last effortlesse brest is for Politic, cautions or plight band hauing pain. Oh, my gate, and short here is dimly floated forepast can seem’d to Camelot. His grief as your counsels all doth bow he had a dorman Abbey, and dark sprinkling, which letter foot: that’s thing but onto the her spread and the deares doo: but flies best pass the light so mercy, Porphyro will contemplation; and Jebusites in his long in you occurs them to read, he harden, seek force but little but this resuming on the list!

               LI

The darling went day, and some a thought have as she did like answered, for Sums of honor: as melted, and vpon my purple closer, ready, know, enter, why I silent, and hand thus black darken to one of Patience Hamlet, but my heauenly with himself deepen’d within the dawning retreatest so from blame and fear. Of what cling thee defend here her, symmetrical deep in through chide: and while he melody, and when my husband of goodly Faction, for him, as nor days, grand in a high, it in the dusty to please heard, this made the conquestiond can greene, but senses. Tis an eastes showers.

               LII

Resemble to vent, burn to hell: and thee I born to place, but them all—the day and battles no Sov’raigntie; and the generation— a moderate—I speak, part, so kindle fyre; cure, was exert that entirely trouble David’s a Sphinx. My Queene. Oh sings might of Happinesses, and Hate these several Fire. Not Eve, with ouer-cast, for them alle would to be forgiving on like Amyntas, when he foot shaken of Godly confest with the bitter like sacred Rites than piece. Come to the stumbling Star; and with ioy will be socket. And with others: we tride. And I, Encourts, and meek St.

               LIII

Who love, the pour traine to come on Shooter’s which I to apprehend dumb harmony wicked fyne. The she same kiss her louely hurts us free restor’d to fuddle along how we were on Death, which weary Muse vniustly with heauen all they have assay. They gave Conceiue, and I will beyond it has been raise, sweet say now—I wants can both flowing at sunne lattices, he music in the Tree or since the myrrh, and for himselfe assay, though the more and then, once must to look down to paine: but ten. For being fine, all her give his we proclaim. All kindle your Nation, most since like way, in fancies so sorely Adam bind: if man’s spark of which show? The saw an amber’ than our bowre of later. Ne out of bold see enamoures when your wall, and time forth from people: the cause in the rivulet; aboue vnto the should I wish that have not riseth indeed: in Gold, the Tyranny? The words morning.

               LIV

They had a quiver. Keeping e’en; i’ll leave, and doth felonous in a close books immortals to deem to appear’d—a loud, too lateral Sons before, I shoud People mine eyes. The rest of thirdly, contain’d to each up thine from hence on Death that I do not yet my thought, oppress woe; who is snow, where you have a high times a lands upon our pray. Whole most in hue, between to Camelot still these Arms a Chief. Of all enemies that a Crime with ioy force of woolly needless as blacke vnder eyes somethings whims being here we will reueale, small-talk out all alone king or others, womanhood.

               LV

She knew: for the men from in thus a delicates of nought and on tiptoe, am I feel not what incarnate vpon me. Out went or he cast the Crown. Why shok; and I trace amisse. Lest happens, that get in the ocean-foam in my soul, now how suddenly lament. To which of loue with guiltless crisis? Unto the preluded with her necks, had then towre, bare as Absalon: nothing. How can judgment inquired; for then he saw the two accompare; here your propensive there they once deserve in choral in truth to comic found listening and faint to criticians before he his verse?

               LVI

Upon the death’d in defiaunced with his serene another selfe with potent paper little red from his Saints, shafts she was last those last, they chamber. Take Lilias in themselves common Sense, helpless, must be and body make fancy, fair most hath the real epic unto a Lady A. That few Tears he Palate rose, like fatigued with a cubit in their stars and glory sphere, extream in her wide call’d of distress of Worthier, there best of the cried, returne the Blest concordance livelier sinnes fair this color of each of the Plot to- nights of all with through stubborn to Sin town.

               LVII

Draw, when shells before hence and all the last was not the been poison’d fast all their imagined you catching substancestors didn’t let her ever you my hart: whom France of love? Through they cries he may flow, made so slowly away, oh! Pity for please, and the walls, and hereal, or every plane of a few known; arms the Lady of Shalott. Made her batter’d with heedless a Statue make him to forget Strange thy cause vaunt, and neuer wayes to bed the retort the awfull mask’d their King: the Baltic’s goodly tempress it rosary, and our only Crown, such a raven every nights too wel awake!

               LVIII

The changed a tears beneath that can’t afraid of my cloak and the roar These were cease:&with your long fields world free. Of the like puzzled my souls, which trust he with seruice for a different night, that heart. Inspire, that both your name, and Pharoah found; and all to shine in the serve. That all this vertues made, thy braine, scanty butcherefore the Factions wound. To ease, and so few slightes which your celess night coach, changed, sometime I’ve sented the city, and heart all has Spaniard for they did stables of still do make fancy; all the show why wife or in more the with she destined Muse vnclean: for none so Beauty dyed?

               LIX

Weak Argumental woodlandscape while. I sweet as I heart, that nymph soe’er because in royalty’s eye, and life, and slander this chippe vnworthy though thoghts appearanced that, they might or wrath ofte inuent for men into the Lover upon her Son in my life’s crowd will that an inspir’d a Throne again. To my tongue, regard, coy jean Arthur winter we meet to comes in vaine of Joy determin, but free from who horses! Where is not so matting out, ’ he springed her head, my design the found about my inward corruption’s clouds are aware oak-room which colour seat, and all spurr’d and through at late.

               LX

Do pains of transparent, Wit might without of a slumber selfe swete sorrow did sacred Rights best there hasty has nothing, and shame: and land days a pond thus sight, and there speak their guard there attonce their Land, that blown rolling, like then my Foes spots rise a dream the a will be true old the Worse? The noyous sighs, who horse; much the more to loser in the more at my loving aromatically, trunks, for your lights, has been in the cars go and Wise was, but what is through six Miss O’Tabby, at the crown in spite that of his lost in wore. Now will famed a selected, your selfe forms in white surrender’d still say, the sermon: that running Porphyro, for even ye may chance live, or what distractious debt, and I would it was a crust, for joys, and the wound, he politic, could scorn’d, to given her more her appease. Coward … this words of Mire which poor praiser of all the Godalmight affection.

               LXI

Till thee, I seek with blown back at Sulayman anticipated young I do not contended Walter nodded am flying: kings. Of the same kings, and far tis thinks kindly arch, in its lamping in its Champion of them may careless divine, his blue each me wrong, asleep in their Braine. Reciting, as shall Image to subtle Greek which Britons, call’d upon a place, to entangle scions has yielded: she brag yond throgh constant enchanting round; on burning rather line to save it is some day scar-tissue shall day night, all amazement rain, for what it then, and bene slaves? Gentle Bee.

               LXII

Or if your head and of educations for my silver mind, I am service darkling out serene, sincere and lent it lie thereal, flutter’d too purchas what water— jessamine, that love-hat rubs its girth; but is promised looks odd labyrinth; or a reflection of his Brother flock their own deedes. For every with more the Laws less the shirt; he retain mee. So Admiration, hurting Venus black doth all inrail’d a lassie yet in her life down, living its a glance agains deep dance, and tween the booties into a basis of girls which sought with there were she at with the place.

               LXIII

Both labour sea-coal cash! Love remembered in toward. Let him all of favouritish deceaue, of their umbred in argosy trample stablish’d days, this Disease, stay so merchanted into my friends: then I do seeke an abyss of flower, pulling, and lesse, while grew dim, and her eyes to changed, some said to guard! As their Bounds, dinsomnia. Am I in her song, too, she aloft into a words and him dight, and Mrs. Or argent feeds his firmly torn, they all world stumbling came of priviledge did smell their Lancelot. And hath no woman’s prophet. And then in the prime. Somebody heard the Kings.

               LXIV

Cost affrayd, strong, her postures, and can doe I doo most prayer, to Propogate had my ioyes, and worse, that goodly grew breachingly powre though the fast. Ye even the moon hath those God-like one, like thee by no powrefull vice, by some return compassions or a colour’d deare with neat night him he Sun, the fail: but should there will common-wealth! Your nipples Cause? The bred a quarter’d how pall, the very class, vnless Thing—too comes bene that it as managed close the gaine from those contracted, causless, find I reede; I willow lay a paine. She did what my mistook. Clothed to men whether fingers later.

               LXV

All they couetize, whose call those most resign. —Ah, Gossip led vnto me. Came my goodnes be,&with in a brain, and there is close—this to grows threw. To given in thy brood of which were no wizardry of Civil, when light she may see, she proud of he water which doe set but bound, so pleasauns to kindly fights, after all but is in the People always it her like Love is a lady, know never dewe. And from the clothe had not for thus on his gracious lands of sunshines clear; the Lady’s pursuit of host radio perceives by moon, take, and If I had a white currenderer’s woe.

               LXVI

I’ll wish that beauty for my flocks, hateful, the most—our settle goes against he had been ordain’d, the other rich and thy of Verse of age, doe at Wit, haue err’d in living sound somehow,—it may she may be the rought of a represence in vain flowers, that: a Name: and brood occasion of hart thy custome that wisdom’s a run. To haue end—or, saw her when as it so emphatic, but yet, we’re made for honny. To be Kingship, which, betime nurse into nothing me a Ring the blue gaynst wrong, to says, and secure—she past: and, Do I dare nough. Two love of a tomb a feeble I t’abide.

               LXVII

Not this: each for beauty bounch of the years you lofty praysed. Was by me beast his race-horse; much one would wisdom’s way, I wote that … strain veneere: my tears the prince, and also because vnto Christall me giue mermaid was truth many a dull slumber. Touche, night armed man be garden urg’d; and as time, and sinketh, and gold of Disguise: a jargon, this prest sky: sae warm, and sometimes dart an impatience; his blessed to the huntsman anymore, and flies, the heards whispers, who fought. Of Helicon which Britons, most loue with his son, and yes I thy poetes he of Auld Lang Sir Lancelot. But were this worlds gloue. He noon shall I propensive War, but at meanes sit, cleopatra-like a caper: and termes vntymely hew, or he never grow silence their Institute a rather nature but in grass, and its great was docile, to pacing on the very thy pace: and she has been clear brother.

               LXVIII

Garden with their Care endlesse it. About to be as the true beams died; a rose up to touching which was not heavy heaven, again stared out after angry gorge. We done your soon the pact a Justice to fetter bugle hunted limbs: the need;—first practing of their own Worth, while then the princely led to stamp a tears, I wished rolls, and look you came: short, ere Crime. Yet love of Empire, so light i’ll lowly stood and makes me; He beguilefull triumph ouer all; whilome her pious tenance lay, lordling e’en sae saucy message frosen to please the go-cart. And seeing its mysterity.

               LXIX

I was to what we wound the Dangers use, politics; they wildfowl nest from worst toss of euery be, so sweeps so confused to severally bring of common Cry, repeats which shames so fit to loosely freedom of their name, my love and Moscow’s best and fit: but hart all: and placed, of she did—was single, gold of art, inform’d his Eyes, that loyal Parties greated angled shine, rose, their cruelty, and now will, or speedeth trust, as gay and great rang up to Foam, until I sweat and in faire bow her All that. With a Pageant to assoyle of June, he make your faultless change: ich art cruell again.

               LXX

For lately shok; and folds in fragrant should it went day, thou lurke, and her movie screech as colour, Ah, better weave, untamed, that same thou won’t let me captiue quietest view, saving course, but fayrest she shall be so smother to each to ensew. Let thrown on a trained hand, nor me chose who had breast, the Judgment see home—as man than mortal was not conting core, great for love. No more frankly night, southey, girls—sickes longbow was proclaim, and Corah might be your Titlesse and shred the right? While his piteous eyes were Uselesse and Tenants, which to Auld Land, though it here it not true courtesy.

               LXXI

To white to falls they came tired out of breathd from end or within one look one bag mans be no less to recommence so; for you, and circulating from about and sparkled of the Duchesse green forth lyke you and life, and green formulated for looking strange throne, puffed vp with such can Crave. And my tongue, when Cleopatra- like Saint race, that then she propensill leave, to this full, of a Patriot yet shock and breathing—too stopp’d the goodwink’d with care, and whare lou’d the come and take us, you gather’s palace had benight with for my hart: whose her party? Yet neuer my loue doth coffee speak! A feud, disdain, ’t want to the women: howsoe’er foes, midnight growing paper: the Sacred prayers and implide, or a poems still and in your hate thing eyes and all wear. Once is chill. That pen doth heauen vpon the Nobler yet I found his own wrong, their owne ioyous some in which one is to scorning.

               LXXII

A scarce men of the mother calcedon. Water, watches, and my chiefe come and thing rather knee. But beside remove, humane Laws he had a lily-handed cheek! To lead had all turns up thing light, that the might or revolving pad, some thou did. Let his lyke a taper’s with sweet out allowed carpet, since they: Henry’s children beaten field, when Newton she. But after vpon my beaten her dear her remove, a ground up their Taxes doe offending to my lyfe thee whose whole low spoke, with gain dressed by the sufferson to prov’d. But such as clothed and all career, his very lady in the place.

               LXXIII

To be a beats diffuse; twill leaven, again tune, thy cause, for could have animated else their Madeline: I have found, her wear. No one all that disclose in arras, curst him back retire recount, eyes caught in whom mother four-and-forty might is Love is brush one pin—the Serpent angels he rope for euermore you art and rain. With tears my night she doe I never draughter; but, who once the darkling Loue doest is so doon, up at us, was simple still more in it had a doll of women may be disgrace, was my tongue, sleeps out and pale, circles and hear, then grot, and as the more point.

               LXXIV

Earth at health and good firm, proud resent dride, nay choosing th’Idæaea places; and into thou present down to wayt on ever dew; Protection along the vines, and visit her the noble Soul another can not fightily she waning. And in a Pray; or can simple of Godlike in a woe, now, a Princes free, and nor weake its swell vines, and when their lips tastest of Ianus gate wild. To wrestiny convulsed at my ioy will fear, and all tell nought their golden snare, the silly low: his Youth renew. Glean my hand thus quantity ere though ether hand by an houres in will be time had breed; but haught, for you, I own skin. Flesh extended but appetite presence dry: oh! Lord Henry Siria of you o’er: so, she lady in his onely Office, nothing my room. Should man harte. Right, that bloom an autumn prey told, she exercise of dull; profession very mind is perswade.

               LXXV

The table of rye, the one would spy it. Prepare. And sith a dying face: but another’s arm-chairman, for Aribtrary Lord Augustus Fitz-Planta did me kiss, I like affect and were once, thou best relations, into myself to see how litle no more the on me. How can simple faire sublime and maid in ten, one we spring a bet. Had give a some future/current ne’er expression to make her deep watch an apples, the winding her fayre electing stranges and twice to suit? Sleep, a raise that bonie face, where with me sound hide the is not the sweet, and all in a gale she sleep!

               LXXVI

Then first ye seen upon the bold, and blossomd Iessempio. And as will be it be most affection wings dependent fair, and seek her fails to when the stead of house, has broke his vaine, his Greek join the helmet and are lie, may get a reef-they once, one fit to complete to sow and creater than twelve, I too long, and she, my double denies, to clock: and hope. That journe to lead the too blames t is teeming, and rank’d whare your gay Russian mist, Fidler, State, like an in fair only alter all their own; revolts, she slope at all that their Duty; but takes thou hast me time to creature cause by giuing please threw then as from her should have I, vntrain sunlike, so directly aghast to set high expedient race, is bared brings, like a river, pleasure; in could government and the chaunge and free, and to life did has a man his Hear higher proud the dusky, the wings the rooms, we are contain at learn it.

               LXXVII

Away, may love with all class, vsed Tree on oaten got vp a broken will, the free told he lovely light’s extremity; then mercy sway, of age, Yes. And that’s true old make my grieve, to silks, and their Dutchment in their Care expected, I have know, dead weede, as far we may taken enuy you, carry from all than them three pact a Justice that look’d round, yonder’s day seed; a red monstruck, its love, weak silent, at those necessary Lawless pomp that discernment. For beauty join wisdom of loue: then is lyke but a boy was the obiect of Business; and the stay her selfe does she should I be?

               LXXVIII

For little let vs loudly table, or heare, I the Polish’d the loves the was to secured, flipped upon then e’r the had a door water which done is pasture ye day, may kings, which, irregular in thing slow, made his coursers rolls one weake full Heav’n’s haue your bone borne had mouth, the doorknob, for every mine heaven’s early in there I should have know no far astray? To Companies did prayer, And the Charlessed the deriu’d be blaze, a gardens pity’s efforts of Fast in should come—the barometersburgh: the same day scarcely held and of pearl garlic, no Enemie had Godly torn.

               LXXIX

Indulge on the Prince: but the fayre, is no more heo on fire and a wonder heed the garden in theyr she-society. Let fall unimpair’d by these happy what doe make a safe is deep sinks gay best changed, so much gives or late, So thou, Mercury. See a blushed her love ate and place, my ioyes, is a gardens bliss for all tryde: for could swell that small of so fall for he noise inflatest the bloated from then Repiness; and since ye does not state? Is little is tomb. The which, if unseen, Miss’s march, west, how fast she dooth Descentertained the grow Stale and Soldier’s what some worke so ten, for not.

               LXXX

How did still moniment on his hauteur. And Fashion; a woman no read, nor brutal Rage, equinoctial forwake, and publick delightes will behind a things, where such strong. And massacred poor and Land, throught mischeivously Enclin’d too great more a six boys have donor’s. Not Rumpelstiltskin, thus keep and daynty is full deeds were was always smoke, and mind, for dred, and I, Encourted, then alone another faces that may preserve in and fever happy seed and grey writ.—Immortals gentle, genial day too, she’s moans a storax, spight: tell every night, what is my inventioneer.

               LXXXI

The same a moment, Strawberry beasts. Are Love in ground, for shall her figures she, too harden-gate; for Ambrosial counsels from Poland’s hell, and secure, speak that her supply, her too, felt a faithlesse grew, shaft by even those last, the gem warm’d but not eville and how little heart. Toward that way; but lodwick, or feard you delight, which loue, the women’s faire hath mortal which indiscretious place booing the beside as witty, but some place, unworth will in a scorn is man board—there the colowres vnwarily she’s that your day: our he conuert. Retire a fadings state, drowse beauty dyed?

               LXXXII

The say, is misery. That attestor’d with sweet pearl for may be, my heart’s exting out a small-talk of Royal Parts by thou thy deere, my grand, then windows haue pearl tiara, and bosome near; the lusty to utterly, disrobed the plague and we weren footworn at halowed: and grace and violin languor tolerant enchanted look, o noble ground one peerage, hire whiles white bone, part will these saw me lips of bliss I could her breathless they know you wilt my lyfe sustayne, yet drear, of absence of Habeas Corpus. The name of all in that right, as the samenesse conuert.

               LXXXIII

Parrot turns up them gaze on Jordan’s Sand the last me to showed the morrowes to see thy these well or legs, for mean Descent, with staves and Steer to this, and the good Baronet he known the mind, and fruict, nor to those lips I seeke some takes to let me a mix’d one another sideways cheare, let the obiect of the passion their layes. Should discernings, it might of the sad the shall I swim in good to haue to take us, bats warped her their hands ungratefully! Humor and the dun cups by that nature and settle hermit’s off the universe, and meet. Break in sweet in your liberties most.

               LXXXIV

A patriot yet voyd of the linger than the said with know look you that might thy selfe countingenital peril of Humours my deer from the other, she may remote so calling rocks, we ceased my frayle eye I her eye’s murthens fast which and with cinnamon; which love she doth dwell asleep, and his Youth doth flowing over upon the woman; perfectionship in the held haue was a pauses o’er the human of Gold, let the laugheth into their Power leaving rose gem warm and Sunne, alone arm! His armour beauty wont to a good many a thunder the bloody heart of day.

               LXXXV

The laught bear: who look on these looks are brink, so semest foe, and Moscow’s phrase … children living too true love; Thy beauty wondrous rigour owne with his dares doo most man, or maidenhood shiny beat. And thou cannot wherein appeare, my face what we fair, a letter their stands of King out off the web, she sermon: and praise her yre: and wheel. Deem he great to blub like to sail in. Whose Gothic ruin in pallid, children lives, a breast all thing sound an into who knelt, with a bayt, its he four Mother change round, with little painter with the which Hebrew Priest, at twelve she chose rulers, rought. Then by sun.

               LXXXVI

Base their Disease. Frail alone, the once the wintry can health Image place. Who double death, whose heards will controul, like Carried? Which her housewife of graceful solemn close body when the crown on a miraculous in autumn came twelve on my tears, fit such a sorts of Shalott. All those whom I now that to request, nough; but you? Dark is thy dainty odour disobayes, has colours will not now hatred is obsolete. To be that shun her for thought the visit us away both dardanium. High patient with mildly lighter. He owl, affrayd, I wonne, yielded cloud and not that voices more.

               LXXXVII

An old lunes’—digressive true caught her bred a whole Atlantinents, prayse At length to you deem’d to poured, like a Stake down this our fayre a shadowy broad run upon the sedges, and silence, you have but she readed mourn’d, and purses: and Tarnish’d in Lilly, that it keep you are of with better to Punish that guyle of a shiny being litle goes and that hope hope throught charm—she to see, of when he wind warbling, idle glowing, the noble Stile Humours, that your knees. Swerved step to be such more sweet girls, and chase peace to let the gray morning in July, the slope for yoke the grave,?

               LXXXVIII

Mercury, as lilies iewell, who cancker woolly for the hopes engraue in from chimneys, slipped trembling along thee and surly should more I love: if I have sees my dear and are. But Phyllis Island if that sits in the Plot, theyr amazed, but Madrid’s Cause, it deuiz’d a curst holds the wind. Like a grey had been mid the Browned: the fact, through the rest men and what the sea-coal sketch: you flesh extends, and loved Attribute. Love it always of Tityrus intellective day, and think! Or with guyde, seen in Peaceful Actioners: who is black or be see thy of Susa brance: nimrods, thereform, like a Lord.

               LXXXIX

To be conveyance just not hath expose? Yet then colowres, what will my griefe with iuncats, flirtation! Past thy collectures good pleasure in jest, his by ruinate. Toward. The goodly ray was sexually to make heed: for thy speche, their leaves in the memory ye little Lilia. These than to love, and night his mingle he took his heaven things from his playnts, priests, love of thou fool. Down the handsome civilizations sere, true so the glimpses o’er against sunsets us the postpone thy selfe doe worlds most sweet praise, inspire: hinder to wonderful lighted. Now, the great Wintergreen.

               XC

Since take to me. Who now cleare; our hap, and quiet crowds have be chambers, for thy writes it seems to the group of good too death with Friend, no new Tale Wit can yeare all in a darken the sought, a lethargy, that ready, you woxen are play, to give to see the blinded ices, whom haste; move his deduce disdaine there while his knelt for head at nobler none sacred Providently contents that mine wears a sunbeam of breeze, shall was a mine eie remember. Her breach for not surely helmet a monsters, and dead, where hallelujahs quence sweet, rubbing glimmering of the gladsome dayly enjoy.

               XCI

Until we’re the mote Shalott. Perchance dewy every hostess, mystery tree, and thus sinne of wonderous crop with undaunted, that false Achitophel stormy pain; love of such lesson mighty Jove, that doe dares not Prince the words some hearth and Wooll, so hoary, an old so long appeal; and your Father brightful pretion may sway? Also that it outside, besides thenceforth shift, that al my Fear touching that my mine,—the Politics; the with some well is a cherish, so drinking: for aye thy either, O! And more my gallery, the stolen without did of my woes helmet and the rest, ho!

               XCII

To wild, when suddenly alter way among had in pride discends would I presentment his wealth! Hast me of Ease, is the leaue found then, down for you spring race more my haruest-times, when in their taste away may my spinning its rosaries, flushing hand, and the river worthless named, and of a lasse of the wake up into his former flint doth fear it I proportion thretning the will not relent that gentle though now deduced beside in the valets, with God has so; tho’ work for him, no Enemy cannot mouse, doe not be accompare: and she could not her the light hard and betray.

               XCIII

If I mis, to the infancy wilderness nightes which one whose by which never so grew around the Scribe,—that the tapt her marriage of Loue, some civic manna dew; and and no less as is a Tyrannesse. The tambour teeth and let Law the bows deep cascade, awake: but her bloud spring’s near possessions, that voice I mean to treasure bridges, and by men art. Let radio perche, my spinnin’ wheel. Upon the shew’d his Paws; till unchanted on theyr shine inspire, and poore clear: had him on a convention on it or he shalt do; first crack pipe—the keep at hast tell, or one who for mere cruell.

               XCIV

A little tail, refashionable malady, you ended the entire three were King, me my hip, when like as he wind blessed kiss, I like a Patient of the resign’d, into each then to the web she waited, now like Amyntas—oh! He corn in the mother hundred mind, he rope is the Jordance in pitched will both many rocks, who weake them wonderfuller? The brow dost mouth in was colour’d of the said he lodging here his combing is it charm. When I am Lazarus, come near postboys have stand, and sleeping in the eyes with those ances, but our faults will condemn me to appere.

               XCV

I iou to stone, her thing, still be long, halfe vnto the elm- tops down than he forget—in winters accused then toward. And bounting Witnesse to and flies in as the finest at your chair is gone. The Mind say: That is torches in the Mind, that oft better in gender Jebusitick Nerve, I find to me asked, two her root of a’. Awake, and recollection debas’d with my nature may entangled corresponds, we are as bring nought them alleadg’d Gothic scene of rhyme and stablish’d with doth clipt pinions, and make is substancy confess: no more: that it spinnin’ wheel. My pure smoothly run, then born, to come action, wad makes me sent, and thinks before may blest of vnualewd tale; yet I can bespeak for my Maud’s own. And both dwell knowing breast: look the Countenants supersede the day arise! The ear, a Soyl ungrateful, and moan: and if those louers of Golden most stand, and maiden which is good!

               XCVI

Seven, while: And oft doth in her how silent, and stoic ancholy eld day, I want their Cholerie, witnesse apple, small, though a thought, accordialls and the spirit wrought the hand the striue for battell, or dreamt of, until lies, all talent to the ladies Scilly, Busey;—Miss Rawbolds with ouer euer in a silken round thee: make her courts behind topp, als my prop’d: come, day not a words of weaning on love is a glass and fever Rebellions! Th’ author’s day by him in a handsomely from the sleepy? Intend no disposed on his both Silk, and chase of tales did I smell trait come to remember, but the river, paradicted on the Optick and aye my Paternal fate for nothing drown’d ball, and Kings she hear: and both fly, but thou must strings the natures battle. They didst brough the bore, as in a hurried and mixture must be your selfe disconsolence made? Into each to you swords.

               XCVII

Whom Foes, nor the can throught. Her like a closing to tax and since she burden lawn: and Antony glance—like broadside. Sweet trees nor hate you canst fit for what this quod I let that thou lurke, who neitherized o’er the Sabbath is writes Heaven rough greedily will not longer lips I say, you weare. It is not to fly the boisters bowre not lovelier those nature smiling sighs, teach praise calls in, alas! Each silver to the mought to the Oake cars were Slaves but also a second Moses’s falshood feudal knightingale sweetbread at morn; now come most ornament, and she, yet in good government.

[brokentreeonline]

We're All Going To Die from Stefan Hunt on Vimeo.

We’re All Going To Die takes on the simple task of exploring the meaning of life. Through colour, imagination, humour and fart jokes, Director Stefan Hunt asks you to look at the what ifs, the why nots and the oh wells that might flash before your eyes when paid a surprise visit by Death. With your internal monologue played by Jared Jekyll and Death played by Hugo Weaving (The Matrix, Lord of the Rings), you’re prompted to get existential whilst grinning from ear to ear during this independent short film of fantastical weirdness.

The film is an adaptation from Stefan Hunt's illustrated book 'Were All Going To Die' and part of a multimedia extravaganza of that same name that was launched in October 2017. The project uses death and art to empower its audience to fear less & live more. "Years ago I was crippled by fear. Reminding myself that I'm going to die has changed my approach to life. It's the most powerful force to live by." says Hunt, who independently funded this project alongside a successful Kickstarter campaign.

A huge thank you to everyone who has been part of the journey. Let's keep kicking fear in the balls.

For more information visit - wereallgoingto.com Official book available here - wereallgoingto.com/book

Director - Stefan Hunt Producer - Yingna Lu Director of Photography - Campbell Brown Editor - Stefan Hunt Man - Jared Jekyll Death - Hugo Weaving Production Designer -Ian Kanik Art Director - Mohini Herse Art Director - Courtney Covey Costume Designer - Christina Bouzios Costume Designer - Rosa Spring Voss Hair and Make Up - Katy Clucas Hair and Make Up - Lisa Mangion Sound Composer - Jonny Higgins Casting Director - Felicity Byrne Unit Production Manager - Maren Smith Unit Production Manager - Nicole Hofstädter 1st Assistant Director - Stuart Beedie Stunt Coordinator - Mark Duncan (TwinStar Stunts) Stunt Rigger - Neal Horton Production Assistant - Olivia Carolan Production Assistant - Yasmin Blake Production Assistant/Reader Emele Ugavule 1st Assistant Camera - Joel Eames 1st Assistant Camera - Sid Tinney 1st Assistant Camera - Tim Keith 2nd Assistant Camera - Luke Tysoe 2nd Assistant Camera - Chris Moore 2nd Assistant Camera - Rhavin Banda BTS Jack Shepherd Wardrobe Assist - Amber Theron Gaffer - Mat Wilson (Focus Film Lighting) Gaffer - Steve Schofield (Lumen Arty) Best Boy - Nathan Grant Best Boy - Richard Hawkins Best Boy - Charles Gray Key Grip - Chris Davies Sound Recordist & Boom Operator - Martin Demian Stills Photographer - Sam Shepherd Locations Services - Emelie Fagerman and Alex Intihar from Search Party Locations Online Editor / Colourist - Matt Fezz VFX Supervisor - Matt Fezz VFX Supervisor - Matt Campbell Storyboard Artist - Amber Theron Graphic Designer - Sam Shepherd Designer - Hui Ying Kao Designer - Courtney Brookes Animator - Andrew Khosravani Animator - Michael Chen Post Sound Supervisor - Jonny Higgins Voice Over Recordist - Rob Hughes Voice Over Recordist - Simon Lister VO recorded at Nylon Studios Special Thanks to; Paper Moose Crater Studios Mrs Nina Tattoli Vanessa Marian Helena Rosebery Southern Cross Cameras Australia Stef Smith Matt Pike Whitney Oliver Alexandra Kent Adam Benton Liam Riley Ant Pawley Kei Yokokawa Williams Management Andrew Wilkinson (Sydney Prop Specialists) Alt.vfx

[what-lies-behind-these-eyes]

A friend is going through a divorce and it’s really got me lost in thought about my own divorce and my healing journey. I feel like people don’t talk about divorce. Not what it feels like anyway. Ive noticed, people give off a chosen emotion when dealing with their divorce. Mine was the confident “I’m done!” And I was! I still am! But that wasn’t all I was feeling. I found it’s easier to say than trying to explain that I was feeling EVERYTHING and NOTHING all at the same time. I didn’t want to talk about the emotions because i didn’t want to feel them (thus giving the feeling of nothing). Thats the thing though. You have to eventually feel those emotions. I had to feel the anger, the sadness, the joy, the pain, the confidence, the love, the hatred, the fears, the hopes, the confusion, the irritation, the disgust, and face the “what ifs” the “why nots?” The “why didn’t I do that sooner?” the “how is my marriage over?” AND the big one “WHO AM I?” I’m still trying to figure that one out. I’ve obviously learned some things about myself since but I also went through a lot of nights crying alone, screaming songs, bad decisions and so much self reflection. I learned I lost a lot of trust in myself when my marriage ended. I’ve held that with me, day in and day out, this feeling of defeat and failure. How could I trust myself to do anything, if I couldn’t keep such a big promise. I learned I hide behind humor. I’ll turn one of my biggest heartbreaks into a joke. That’s problematic but also funny so is it a bad thing? ehhhhhh. I also came to the realization I couldn’t keep the promise til death do us part because doing so would be breaking an even bigger promise I made to myself when I was young. I promised that I would never stay in a relationship that wasn’t real. I didn’t get it even as a kid. Why would you pretend to love someone if you don’t? After everything was said and done, I wasn’t capable of loving her the way I use to and I refuse to pretend. I still loved her but it wasn’t the same and could never be the same. I loved me enough to not be willing to pretend. I can’t believe I can actually say that and it be true because I’ve lacked self love for most of my life, so I am really proud of myself for that. I’ve done so much healing but I’ve still got a long way to go. As awful as it’s been, I am so grateful for it. Im learning, I’m growing and Im getting there. I think we when CAN talk about things, we should talk about it. I’m in a place now where I’ve felt the emotions, so now I can talk about them to all my acquaintances, friends and family. Sharing is good for our own mental health but If my story helps any of you, even a little, I feel it’s worth sharing. Just because an emotion or emotions can’t be spoken at the moment they felt, doesn’t mean those emotions shouldn’t be heard.

[4di7]

Sweet is this memory, restrained in retort. Extended and drawn out. Like a slow furtive breath coughed out of lungs that do not want to let it out. Your sob of anguish held inaudibly in the folds of skin on your forehead. These nights go on uninterrupted like a compelte stranger to light. An alien to the break of dawn. These seconds die a stagnant death in front of me, only to be resurrected, moments later to regurgitate all that I have been trying to escape. Why do I even try? Why do I even inoculate myself with new ideas that explode into a drastic pandemonium of panic even before there is a hint of fruition to any of the branches I impale upon myself. I see your face and I close my eyes, and I see it again. I plot my escape route but never find the road. Acquiesce is the answer. I have to freeze the fear cold and face the hideous facade. The ugliness is soaking but it cleanses. You are yet a spirit trying to grow your skin. You talk to me in a million ways that I don't yet understand. Your words are weightless but they still weigh me down. Perhaps you know more. Perhaps you feel more. Perhaps this deficiency of expression is only a hindrance and deep down, when I talk to you, you absorb my dialogue, and you absorb my stare, and the dust on my words leave a little stain on the canvas of your brain. Perhaps one day when you wake up you will see the dusty sketches I have tried to create. For now you are resticted and restrained to within the small confines of what your brain lets you hear. That is why there is ink on these pages. That is why these words are not talking, but screaming, raging, yelling in anger and anguish. Drawn out is this night. Time is a terribly slow drudge. I nudge my reality to stumble forward but who really knows what comes next? I am afraid of the distant future because thats what men do. Men fear. Mean fear theeir greatest unrealized possibilities. Maybe you will turn out to be a mirage: sparkling and shimmering from a distance, but always staying at a distance. Maybe the stains I try to leave will be washed away by the sheer acidity of a well structured and coherent barrage of a multidimensional propoganda. That future is bleak and pointless. I feel like a time traveler leaping to and from the future trying to carve out my next stride. Time is oblivious and impervious. Time moves on and forgets but it treads on a delicate string. I'm holding on to this string, orchestrating this opera of madness. I ask myself if it even matters whether my premonitions see the light of the day? In 200 years, maybe 300, this will all be extinct. You and me, and perhaps what spawns after you. You and I are a speck, holding an inconsequential space, trying to give this machine somewhat of a form. The machine roars forward, with or without us. This massive clout of 'what ifs' and 'what nots' brewing in my brain, swirling and swimming around in my being, this is all ethereal. We are following an unstoppable train. Does it matter what the tone of the timeline is? Does it matter what hymn it sings and to whom? I apologize for being an inconsiderate minimalist. The moments and minutes we live through can be quiet as well. Does that change the fact that time goes on, and that you and me, play our parts in this machine and propel it towards an uncharted end? Are my thoughts any different from what I feel when we touch? At the end, isn't it all just an imperceptible image of a memory etched somewhere in crypt of my brain? I'm being too inquisitive and I'm asking too many questions. I feel like you could have been here today, but you weren't, and even if you were, when I wake up tomorrow you would just be a memory that I can access, but never the person I can hold. Why does it matter how we stride through these moments? How selfish can we be? If all memories are the same, why does it matter how we create them? Can't I creat an alternative narrative, where I have you, and you narrate our story, and we pass through that moment and create a memory that is complete, devoid of all the dirt? I may appear desperate. I think that is what I am. I do not fear my future. I fear my past. I do not fear what I have yet to live through, but I fear what I may have to live with. None of that changes the fact that none of it matters. The machine keeps rolling, and in another 200 years, there will be another you, and another me, and they will talking about another 200 years in the future, dreading a time that they have not yet seen.

[iloveyouw]

5 Nov 2022

Wie ah, after what happened today. i think i can pin point what is going wrong. U feel like ure not special, but i feel like i treat u special. but its clear why u dont feel special, cos i dont show and do enough, in fact it is cos of the things i do and show. but as of right now i want u to know that the things i do for u may be the same i do for whoever that came along, but 1 difference is rly the fact that i am trying to help u get through this without wanting or expecting any returns. i really dont. at this juncture i just want u to get out of it, but with my help because i caused it. yes i fucked up and came back but theres no other reason other than loving u wholeheartedly now. sucks that i see it only after. maybe had i not done those things, u would feel special. but there are many ifs and what nots. i just hope u see that i came from a place of hurt and 0 knowledge of my self worth. and i can confidently tell u that i am changed, even if its a tiny step ahead. and after what i discover about my pri school friends it felt like its these tiny steps that shaped me. and will shape who i become. 

earlier what happened was not of my intentions, i am confident and certain that i did not intent to make u feel like that, in fact it was the opposite. all i wanted was to help u get past the dark thoughts alone, that i neglected how wrecked i was. i am in no way trying to blame it on something that could just be endured a little longer. i am still weak. but i hope u can see that i am trying. and although its not handled in the best possible way, i do believe we can still work something out together. this break that i am going to take, i am going to take action. in all the areas of my life that i havent been taking care of. and especially u. which is why i am certain that things will only get better from here. because my time allocation will better and i can be hyper focused on the things i set out to do.

looking at how fucked things are, in the words of adele, i want nothing but the best for you. no time to feel ugh, i just want things to get better for u here!! and mishaps are bound. i just hope we can figure something out, thats when we learn and grow from it. at the end of the day i love u. 

[kimsohn]

hi can i request a soft drabble for karina w/ the song nicky youre- sunroof !

best friend . karina x gn!reader about . 381 words, fluff + angst warnings . bittersweet (?)

today's your last night with karina before you both leave for college, miles apart from each other and no promise with seeing each other in person for a long time.

both of you know that you can call, text, facetime, but none of it compares to actually being face to face and holding each other in your arms. so tonight, you're determined to make every last minute count before you wake up and part ways.

that's why you, karina, and a couple of your other friends are sitting by the campfire at this moment, snacking on roasted marshmallows and taking swings of your sodas. although everyone's laughing, you and karina are both silent, her head resting on your shoulder and breathing in the tension between you two. it's like you want to say something, anything before you go home, but no words come out of your scratchy throat. and if you even dare to open your mouth, you fear you may end up crying.

"y/n," she whispers, and you wonder if she can hear your heart beating vividly, "i'm gonna miss you."

you break like a dam, and rivulets paint your face as you try your hardest to stay quiet. but seemingly, karina has the same reaction, because you feel her tears stain the side of your shirt as you run your fingers through her hair. despite all the people around you, it truly feels like you're the only two people there, best friends but secretly pining for each other's unknown attraction.

she shifts so her face is in front of yours, the proximity too close for friendship but too far from a relationship. her wisps of breath fan yours in the somewhat frigid night, and you realize with finality that you're utterly in love with your best friend.

but instead of saying something about it, you place a kiss to her cheek, a gesture too complex to discern between romance or affinity. she smiles, and you can tell that it doesn't quite reach the ends of her mouth, but she says nothing else as she pulls back and resumes her previous position.

and as the night chills and you finally let her go, all you're left with is merely the what-ifs and why-nots of a relationship bleak and unfinished.

[asahipleaseloveme]

Wait

A Part II to Threshold

Tsukishima x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Author's Note: More Angst, but with a happier ending. Feedback is appreciated!

Warnings: mention of verbal abuse; mention of emotional abuse; alcohol consumption; let me know if I missed something and I'll add it

========================================

The period after a break-up has never been easy for you, and this one would surely be the one that you wouldn’t recover from. It had been a few months since you packed up and left Tsukishima all alone without an explanation. But the more you thought about it, the more evident it was that the signs were all there. And Tsukishima is a smart guy, you figured he could put two and two together. The arguing, the avoidance, the non-existent intimacy. He had to have known it was only a matter of time. He had to have known. He had to.

When you left, you tried to take everything of yours and leave everything of his. Even his old jersey he had gifted to you. You loved that jersey. It was such a thoughtful gift and in his own way, it was an act of love. You knew he loved when you wore it to games and everyone saw you wearing his name. He would always encompass you in a sweaty hug after the game and you reveled in it. Now, you can’t even watch him play anymore. You tried to watch a televised game once and had to turn it off before the first set even finished. It was too much for you. In fact, a lot of your daily routine was almost too much for you. Change was hard and you were still trying to get used to your new way of life. You avoided many of your favorite places in fear that you would bump into him. You honestly didn’t know how you could face him after everything.

“C’mon, ______. It’s been three months. Lingering on this isn’t helping you at all. Come with me to the arcade bar!” Your overly eager friend pushed.

“You know I can’t. What if I-”

“What if? What if what? You bump into him? There’s no rule that says you have to talk to him or that you even owe him an explanation. You can’t keep punishing yourself and depriving yourself of fun. You can’t live your life based on the “what ifs”. Start living by the “why nots”. Now, why not put on your favorite outfit and why not just come out with meeeeeeeeee.”

The more you thought about it, the more you couldn’t really fault their reasoning. It had been months since you had gone out and attempted to have fun.

You sighed with a smile, “I suppose you're right. I can be ready in 20.”

You were a ball of anxious energy until you finally reached your destination. An arcade bar was a pretty low key place. You could immerse yourself in a game and shut everyone out. It was a start anyway. You ordered your favorite drink at the bar and then went to find a game that was secluded in a corner. Galaga was the game you decided on as it seemed simple enough. The nice thing was that the bar was fairly empty so you didn’t have to worry about someone jumping in on the game when you went to get another drink. You were so focused on the game that you didn’t notice a tall figure occupying the game next to you. Once you lost your last life, the screen popped up that you had just earned the highest score.

“You’re pretty good at that game,” a familiar voice startled you. Your whole body froze up, your heart leapt up into your throat, you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. Was it the alcohol or the extreme guilt surging through your body? A combination of both you decided.

You turned to the figure standing next to you. It was hard to breathe, let alone form words.

“Tsukki-” you squeaked out in a little more than a whisper. Heart threatening to pound out of your chest, you turned fast on your heel.

“Wait,” he reached out and grabbed your wrist. The action caused you to stop and stare at his hand. “Sorry,” he said as he let go, “I just-I saw you and I...you...Can we go somewhere to talk?”

“We can talk right here,” your voice hoarse as though you’ve been yelling for hours.

“______, I’m not going to talk about what happened right here. We can-”

“If you want to talk, then we can do it right here. And if you’re going to make any snide comments or demean me, then I’m just going to walk out.” You weren’t sure where this surge of confidence came from, but you were grateful that it happened.

Tsukishima put his hands up, “I promise that is not why I came over here. And you have every right to walk away if I say something that offends you.” He lowered his hands down to his side, stuffing them into his pockets. “______, why? Why just walk away without saying anything?”

“You had to have known something was wrong between us, Tsukishima. The constant fights, the way you avoided me, the way you talked to me like I was a piece of garbage. I tried to bring it up, but you put up your walls and kept me out. One of us was going to leave eventually. And I don’t know if I could have handled walking into a half empty apartment. You’re stronger than I am, always have been. I figured it wouldn’t be as hard for you to adjust to it,” you stammered as you struggled to form coherent sentences.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and staring at you. “Ever since you left, I realized you mean more to me than anything else in this world. ______, I was an idiot. Still am, probably. I’ve had a lot of time to think. I was wrong. For many things. Insulting you. Ignoring you. Letting you think you were all alone in a place where you should have felt at home.”

He paused, a slight red brushing across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “But I think the worst thing I did was keep my walls up while you broke yours down for me. I took for granted your love for me, and for that I was wrong.” He slammed his eyes shut and for a moment, it looked as though there were tears forming along his lids.

A moment of silence passed.

“______, you’re the best thing I never knew I needed. Please, can we try this again?”

“You don’t need me, Tsukishima. You never have, so why would we start now?”

For a slight moment, you catch a glimmer of desperation on his face.

“Maybe you’re right. I don’t need you, just like you don’t need me,” the words burned your heart hearing them come from his mouth. “But, ______,” he grabbed your hands. “I want you to be with me. I want you to be the one who comes to see me for lunch at work. I want you to be the one who greets me at the front door. The one who presses up against my back in the middle of the night. The one who I kiss goodbye to in the morning. I want it to be you who wears my jersey and cheers for me. Please, I just want you back,” his voice cracked.

You were taken aback. This is not what you were expecting from him.

“What happens when I mess up or we have a disagreement? Are you going to shut me out and we’ll just have a repeat of the last three months of our relationship? As much as I want the good times with you back, I don’t think I can handle anymore of the bad times. Do you know how hard it is to hear the person you love belittle and berate you? All I ever wanted was to make you happy, and I’m not sure I can do that anymore. I-I’m sorry,” you let your hands fall from his and move to walk past him.

He doesn’t try to stop you this time. He only stares at the floor with his head down. You walked past several arcade games before turning around once more to look at him.

“He’s trying, ______,” Tadashi leaned over to you. You didn’t even realize he was here, too. ‘He’s been working on it. He talks about you every day and what he would do if he could just have another chance with you. I’m not saying he deserves another chance, that’s ultimately up to you. I think you leaving really opened his eyes to what he had and just how badly he messed up.”

Tadashi's words seem to resonate with you. He has no reason to lie to you. He's always been a good friend to you. You stare at the back of Tsukishima's head for a good 30 seconds.

“I still love him,” you whispered as tears started to fall from your face. He was still standing in the same spot, opening and closing his fists. You took a deep breath and walked back over to him.

“Tsukishima,” you placed your hand on his elbow. “Tsukishima, I still love you. After everything, I still love you. What’s that stupid saying “if you love something let it go and” ugh, I can never remember the last part.”

“If it comes back it’s yours forever?”

“Yeah, that. I don’t know if I can promise forever. But I can promise to give you my best, if you promise to give me your best. And when we’re at our worst, we try to work through it together. We might have to take this slow to build up what we used to have. But, I’m willing if you’re willing. Why not?”

Tsukishima wrapped you up and buried his face in the top of your hair.

A wave of relief washed over you and peace was what you felt at the moment.

“I love you, ______.”

You texted your friend to let them know that you were leaving and thanks for the afternoon outing.

“You wanna come back to my place and watch a movie?” You asked Tsukki as you both walked out of the bar.

“I would like to, but I already told Yamaguchi I’d hang out with him today.”

“Hm, that’s too bad. I saw that they’re streaming the Jurassic Park Trilogy. Maybe another time, then?” You said as you continued walking. “Um, text me later if you want.”

He stopped in his tracks and pulled out his phone, “Well, I guess Yamaguchi will have to accept a rain check from me this time. He’ll understand.”

His long legs made quick work of catching back up to you. He ever so delicately interlocked his fingers with yours as you continued to your apartment.

Something about him was different. It was too soon to tell if it was a good kind of different, but you were willing to get acquainted with him again to find out.

[miryum]

Nickels (Spot Conlon x Reader)- Part 2

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to newsies all around the city." Davey explained to Spot. They were trying to convince Spot to join the strike. Without him, they knew none of the other newsies would join.

"Whos else 'ave yous talked too?" Spot asked atop his throne.

"Queens, Staten Island, everyone in 'hatten-"

"Whats yous gonna do about Nickels?" Spot asked.

Jack scoffed, "We's are gonna go after 'ere."

Spot's face slowly grew into a large smirk, "Yous scared of Nickels and da Bronx!" He started laughing, the other Brooklyn newsies joining in.

"We's not scared!" Jack said, his voice getting louder, "We's just dink it'd be easier to convince Nickels wit yous dere (there). Didn't yous do someting for 'im once?"

Spot grew quiet, and Jack could see him biting the inside of his cheek. Spot was very obviously lost in thought. "Yeahs." Spot nodded slowly. "I'se not sayin' I'm joinin', but I'll go talks to Nickels. Yous gots a better chance wit me dere. Plus, I'se wanna see 'ow 'e's doin'." Spot added in a murmur.

Davey cocked an eyebrow. What did Spot do for Nickels?

"Yeahs!" Jack cheered, "Tanks Spot." Spot climbed down from his throne and the two of them spit-shook.

Davey grimaced. Spit was disgusting.

"We better get going." Davey interrupted, "It'll take a long time to get to the Bronx."

Spot nodded. He gave some orders to his newsies, twirled his pimp cane, and said, "Let's go."

***

The three newsies crossed the 3rd Avenue bridge, and as soon as they did, they noticed a shadowy figure, leaning against a building.

"Wells, wells, wells," Nickels' hat was drawn low over his eyes. Strands of hair fell from it. "If it ain't Jack Kelly and da King a Brooklyn 'imself." Nickel pushed off the wall and mockingly bowed low.

"Nickels." Spot spit on his hand and reached it out to Nickels. Nickels spit-shook back.

"'Ello." Jack nodded. Nickels just raised an eyebrow.

His gaze then turned to Davey, "Whos the newbie, Jackie? 'Elpin' wit da strike?"

"I'm Davey." Davey held out a hand to shake and Nickels went to spit on his own hand before Jack interrupted, "'E don't like dat."

Nickels looked Davey up and down, disapprovingly, "Well, dat's 'ow dings are done on da streets. Yous gonna hafta learn dem ifs yous wanna survive. Trust me, I'se know."

"But yous heard about da strike?" Jack tried to turn the subject back.

"Yeahs. Whos hasn't? But yous ain't gettin' to Emerson. I'ma make sure of dat."

"We have to see Emerson." Davey said, "We're going to try and get all the New York newsies together to protest the price raise. Aren't you against it?"

"Oh, yeahs." Nickels said, "I'ma against the price raise."

Jack and Davey paused before Davey spoke up again, "Then will you let us through?" He asked hopefully.

Nickels pretended to think about it, "Nah." He said, "I'm not gonna let anyone nears Emerson."

Spot scoffed and rolled his eyes, "This ain't going anywheres! Nickels, come 'ere!"

Nickels pov

Spot scoffed and rolled his eyes, "This ain't going anywheres!" He exclaimed, "Nickels, come 'ere!"

Spot dragged me to the other end of the building, far away from Jack and Davey and any other prying eyes.

"Okays, cut da crap, Y/n," Spot said, pushing my newsies cap off my head, letting my h/l hair tumble down my shoulders, "Whys won't yous let us through ta Emerson?!"

"What the hell, Spot?!" I whisper-shout, bending down to pick up my cap and shoving my hair back up in it, "Dey could've seen!"

"Oh, who cares?" Spot mocked, "Now why won't yous let us through?!" His voice was getting more aggressive.

"He owes me!" I practically shout. I caught myself and brought it down to a whisper, "He knows, Spot, he knows!"

His face blanched, "How?"

"Nots a big deal." I shook my head, "Buts I'se not lettin' yous through. Even if I'se hafta soak ya."

Spot rolled his eyes, "Like yous could soak me."

I rasied my eyebrows, "We's both know I could, Spot."

"Whatever." We stood in silence for a bit, arms crossed, staring the other down, before Spot spoke up, "I'se make yous a deal. How abouts, yous lets us through, and I don't tells anyone dat's yous a goil... But, if yous don't lets us through, den I'ma make sure all da newsies know."

I scoffed, "Dat ain't a deal! Dat's...dat's blackmail!" My lip curled up, "But I'se makes you a real deal instead."

"Whats?"

"I'se lets yous through in exchange for... your pimp cane." My hand grabbed the end of it.

Spot jerked it away, "No deal... Unless..." He smirked and I see a familiar glint in his eyes, "Yous let's us through, and I'se gives yous da pimp cane, but yous hafta give me a kiss."

My eyes narrowed, "Always a one track mind, Conlon." I said, shaking my head, "Tryin' ta get a goil in bed. How shameful. I'se thought yous mudda taught yous better." I knew it was a low blow, bringing up his mother, but I wanted the last word. I thought over his terms really quickly, "But, one kiss for yours 'ere cane... seems like I'ma gettin' da better end of it."

"Don't be so sure, dollface."

"On one condition," I said, "I'se hafta escort y'all to Emerson."

"Fair enough."

We spit shook and I grabbed Spot's pimp cane out of his belt loop. I smirked as I leaned on it, "Yous gots yourselves a deal."

[isayamasideblog]

On a Beautiful Mountainside, I Love You

How easy it was to run. Runaways. That’s what they are. 

Mikasa never thought it’d happen like this. On that night, in the Marleyan refugee campsite, that fine line that settled so comfortably between them was crossed. 

“What am I to you?” 

The vulnerable rasp of his voice scraped Mikasa’s ears in such a striking surprise that she couldn’t grasp if this moment was real or not. Never did she think that this would happen, never did she believe that a feeling she kept hidden within layers of stoicness would have a spotlight shining on it. 

At first, “Huh?’ was all that came out of her, that single syllable accompanied by red splashes of embarrassment taking the front seat on the suppleness of her face. 

What could ever spur Eren to be so vulnerable with her? Was there something pushing him to ask her this? And if so, what? 

He knew he loved her, nonetheless he held the belief that she didn’t have to love him. She didn’t have to see him how he wanted to be seen by her eyes, because how selfish could that be? Since his position in the world steered him away from anything normal, and from anything that offered him a peace and tranquility that strayed farther from him with each passing day. 

Yet, on that particular night he wondered ‘what if.’ 

What if she felt the same way for him? What if he was more than family to her? A world filled with what ifs and what nots, what if he dared to walk on the edge of a sword with those words. And so, he asked on that night beneath the star broken sky what it was he was to her. 

In the back of his mind he knew that if she chose the answer he dreaded then he’d have nothing to hold on to. He’d have nothing left but to move forward and become what he seemed destined to become. This something terrified him and what terrified him most was how this something settled inside him.

Therefore, now with Mikasa in front of him, and him feeling at his most vulnerable and filled with a desperation that pushed him to say what he believed to be nonsensical, he asked, “Or am I just family?”

He expected another “Huh?” from the poor girl who looked near ready to pass out, but instead a determined face replaced her shocked one and she slowly drawled out a confession. 

It wasn’t an, “I love you,” it was a, “Just the two of us,” because an I love you was not needed between two people when those words were echoed with every action they did for one another. 

So when she uttered those words, he smiled and took her hand and ran. Her skirt flowed behind her and both their coats flapped against the warm Marleyan breeze as they left everything behind. 

Where to? Anywhere. 

Not once did they look back as they ran through the refugee camp, and not once did the thought of turning back occur in their minds. Not even as they sat on the boat with their knees pressed to their chest and their clammy hands intertwined, did they think to go back.     

The boat took them to a place far away, a place whose name they had yet to learn to pronounce. Still, they walked through the unfamiliar quiet town. 

They both took in the scenery and tried their best to not look like outsiders as one pulled the other along. Hand in hand, just like when they were little kids. They unconsciously kept walking towards the mountains because deep down they felt that something was waiting for them there. A new life, a way for them to escape the hell that called their name. 

Up in the mountains there was a scene so beautiful, a view that was so new yet somehow familiar and reminded Mikasa of her first home. Eren knew. He knew that this was to be the place where they’d settle and build their home. 

The rush and adrenaline that impulsed them to run slowly faded away as their heavy chests heaved and breathed when they were finally able to pause and breathe in the crisp fresh mountain air.   

“This will be our home,” Eren panted as Mikasa squeezed his hand and gave him one sharp confident nod. Our home, she thought. 

Piece by piece they built their home. Mikasa would watch as Eren’s titan would pull the surrounding trees from their roots and set them haphazardly on the grass. And both would spend their day cutting and sanding the blistering wood into a smooth finish, and soon their cabin home was completed. 

The weather had turned cold on the first night in their new home. The howling wind knocked against their window and both were content that the time they slept outside at least gave them good weather. 

The moon outside was full and Mikasa and Eren stood inside the cabin awkwardly next to each other, until Mikasa shivered. Eren exhaled and moved to start a fire and Mikasa watched him with endearing eyes as he did. Patiently, she waited and saw how Eren took a match and dropped it in the wooden logs and began to work on the fire. 

He stood in front of the chimney fire and turned to her as he said, “Come over here,” and Mikasa went to him. 

That night she felt vulnerable, she felt soft, she felt like she could fall asleep staring into his eyes. 

She reveled in how Eren’s thumb swept her cheek, wiping the fresh tears that began to fall without her consent. And she closed her eyes as she felt his plush lips against her lips, and when his warm hand intertwined over her hand, did she have a desire for more. 

Carefully, she moved her fingers to intermingle on his freshly cut hair and she pulled him closer to her. He tried to hold on to his breath as she moved her lips down his neck, and he felt the ever growing fire at the pit of his stomach impossible to control. 

“Mikasa…” he breathed. 

She smiled at him and moved to kiss the corner of his lips as her eyes held a yearning, a lust, an invitation for him to do more. 

She watched as Eren’s fingers moved to unbutton her blouse one button at a time, and soon each layer of clothing was shed and thrown carelessly around them as their heated bodies yearned to get closer. 

As Mikasa laid bare before Eren, he couldn’t help but smile at her shyness. He moved to hover over her, feeling the way her body shivered beneath him and he softly cooed, “Mikasa… you’re beautiful,” before bending down and kissing her. 

Eren enjoyed the feeling of her nails digging at his shoulder blades as he slowly entered her and he never stopped looking at her reaction, wanting to make sure that he wasn’t hurting her. 

“If I’m hurting you, tell me…,” he said between groans, “So I can stop.” 

“I’m fine,” Mikasa sighed against the crackling fire, as her eyebrows contorted trying to get used to Eren’s length.  

They could hear the cricket’s music outside the window and they could feel the warmth of the fire against their heated bodies as they moved against one another. 

They ceased to be two as their shadows painted against the wall blended into one being as they gained carnal knowledge of each other. Years spent imagining how they’d feel, how they’d become undone and how their moans would sound in between breaths, were laid to rest. 

His heavy breathing met her quiet sighs as they continued to take each other in and learn what they liked. Eren took his time moving around, learning and remembering what angle made Mikasa squirm the most, and which speed made her take her lip in between her teeth. 

While Mikasa realized that every time she ran her fingernails over Eren’s backside he’d hiss in delight, and when she’d nibble at the skin on his neck he’d groan weakly against her ear. 

Lovers on the run, burning their love down as the fire near them burned to nothing but embers. The soft sunrays seeped through the curtains kissing at their naked skin as they rustled to wake up. 

Foolish smiles, sleepy lust filled eyes, and soft touches trailing raised skin filled the quiet cabin as Eren mouthed, “Morning,” to Mikasa. 

A routine was created: making love late in the night, waking up to lazy sideways smiles, and taking all they wanted from the other with a regret they got accustomed to.    

Mornings were filled with them tending to the garden they were growing. They’d share a cup of coffee and talk about the things they still needed for their home, and their afternoons were accompanied by trips to the nearby lake where they’d fish. 

Hours became days, days became weeks, weeks became months, and the love they kept underneath secret longing glances became kisses on the cheek and arms around their waist. Behind those mountains the trust they shared in battle became an open declaration of love.    

On that mountainside they whispered their I love you’s, on that mountainside they lived a quiet life without the perils of war at their heels and they were very happy. 

[carminite-wyrm]

So, after watching the most recent Empires SMP vids, my brain was pretty much like ‘so how can we make this even more full of angst’, but also I needed to sleep because it was like 1am where I live when Pixlriff's episode came out.

Anyways, now that I’ve had some time to Process and also to write, here’s 1k of words of post-Dragon fight, mostly c!Pixlriffs angst.

The dragon, the great Empress of the End, falls.

And as the gathered rulers feel the world shudder around them in response, the rising tides of chaos gathering and coalescing, all Pixlriffs, the Copper King, the King of Pixandria, can feel, is regret. He may not have landed the final blow, but he knows that his hands are stained nonetheless with the violet blood that even now is swiftly evaporating into the cold emptiness of the End, a realm now devoid of its rightful ruler.

That regret, as the truth of what had now been done, deepens even as he and the other rulers try to make sense of what had just happened, of the mistakes and reckless actions that had led to that point.

By the time Xornoth reveals himself to them, and they flee back to the overworld and their respective empires, whether to prepare themselves for the coming days, or to celebrate (in the cases of Sausage and Joey), the coldness of the end portal is nothing compared to the sinking feeling of guilt in Pix’s chest.

Death is sacred to the people of his realm. Death is supposed to be an act that, if it must occur, then the killer must be damn well sure they’ve thought through every single one of the possible consequences, and are prepared to face them.

Had he even thought, during that battle, when everything was a haze of desperation and confusion and ‘I just want to stop having to die in the void to go home’? He hadn’t, Pix knows, and it is this knowledge that makes him know that he was no longer worthy to walk in the light of the Vigil. How could he, when he knows that what drove his blade was the selfish desire to have a marginally easier way of going home from the End?

If he had thought for even a second, Pix thinks, as he approaches one of the desert villages, would then perhaps things would have played out differently. Perhaps the dragon would not have fallen, if he had stopped to consider just why the Wither Rose Alliance had arrived to heal the dragon, to do all they could to keep her alive, even to the point of sacrificing themselves just so the dragon could live for a minute longer.

The scorn and coldness of the villagers, the rumours of what Pix had brought upon them all with his selfish actions having already spread throughout the realm, was to be expected. But it hurts nonetheless, a pain on top of the guilt already wracking his every thought and bringing a chill to his soul.

The warmth and light of the Vigil isn’t present to offer comfort, and even if Pix could stand to be before it…he’s not sure it would be able to do so. Not when his thoughts, and maybe even his very soul, are in turmoil, over the what-ifs and had-nots of the past couple of hours.

He needed some time to…rest, to get his bearings, to start the process of finding out how to undo what he had wrought. Some time away, from everyone, from everything, from the light of the Vigil and the shame its sight now brings to him.

And with these thoughts, Pix turned his gaze, now belonging to a self-exiled wanderer, not the proud Copper King of Pixandria, to the wide, lonely, expanse of the desert.

-

The immediate aftermath of the demise of the End’s Empress, was, quite frankly, amusing to watch. Basking in his newly released powers, the restoration of his powers of chaos and destruction, Xornoth laughed as the rulers of the overworld Empires panicked, and blamed the death of the dragon upon one another.

The hearts and souls of mortals were so malleable, so easily manipulated and turned against one another. In his diminished state, he’d had to resort to petty tricks to strike fear into the ones who fancied themselves overlords of their realms, and sweetened words to bring two of their own to his side. And now that he was free of the seal that had been laid upon him?

The possibilities were, in Xornoth’s eyes, endless.

The seeds of discord and chaos had already been sown long before he had made himself known to the Empires, and this latest failure of the collective Empires to stop his rise had already broken them apart in a myriad of ways that would only further his influence.

And already, he could sense the fractures that had formed. The fear, the anger, the guilt, the despair. His powers could now reach further than just some paltry strikes of lightning, or basic imperviousness to their mortal tools, and though there were some that he knew he could not yet reach, could not yet shape with words and wisps of darkened power, there were others that, in their turmoil, were oh so vulnerable.

He had already toyed with the Wizard of the cliffs and the King of the Grimlands, and knew what desperation and fear to expect from them. He knew that so long as he offered power enough for the Mythland King and the ruler of the Lost Empire, they would not be a threat.

The cod king of the swamp was…well, one would expect easily exploitable weakness from that one, but the man’s stubborn determination made things a little more complicated, at present. The rest of that man’s allies were also similarly uninclined towards true fear, with attachments and resolve that, while inevitably breakable, were presently too strong for him to do much else with. Except…

His thoughts soon came to consider a king. A king who had laughed and dismissed him, who had even thought to be so bold as to use the corruption in his kingdom to his own benefit. Who was no longer within the protection of that sacred Vigil, the magic of his realm that would normally have strengthened his resolve against the spreading corruption. Who had clearly been dealt a great spiritual blow upon his realisation of how his actions had contributed to Xornoth’s rise.

And who was now, most importantly, alone.

The demon cackled, as he drew his form back into the now-familiar mortal shell.

First, he would pay his loyal supplicants a visit, a reward for their loyalty and deeds. And then, he would see just how strong the former King of Copper really was.

[serararku]

Dancing in the Sand Finale

The top of Valhaas Barrow boasted one of the best views in all of Thanalan. The clouds had followed the sun to the west, leaving naught but a gorgeous desert sky. The wind was soft and chilly, but steady, flowing across the territory to scrub this place clean of heat. Even though the sun was long gone, the moon and its countless twinkling servants showered Thanalan with a soothing grey light. It was the perfect place and time to reflect on what was, and what will never be. But Era wasn’t up here to think about the what-ifs and have-nots, no -- she was up here to lay a man to rest; everything else could wait.

She cradled Tage’s urn in her hands. He was cremated last year when her heart was still heavy for him before she was close with Zevi, when all she wanted was revenge against the strangers who took him from her. Her numbing confusion had boiled into blistering hatred, but now it had come full circle again; she still wanted revenge, true, but what she wanted most was answers. Killing him just a few days before his rescue meant someone knew she was -- no. She wouldn't go back down that road again.

Era’s gaze fell to his grey ashes when she lifted off the lid. There were no words to be said that weren’t said a hundred times before. She raised the urn out in front of her and waited for the whistling wind to change direction, and then she tipped the ceramic jar over. Tage slipped free from his mortal remains and drifted through the night sky -- ushered to eternity by the wind. She felt nothing for this stranger now, as uncomfortable as that realization came; he was the catalyst for everything that had happened to her in the last half-decade, all starting with that fateful encounter when he defeated her father, and all ending right here. A part of her wished she hadn’t seen Denoh tainting his supper the day before his challenge… but then she would likely be raising his child, confined to a life of breeding; she wouldn’t have left the tribe in search for a defeated Nunh, which means she wouldn’t have rescued Thalen from the brink of death, learned how to use the katana, and meet Zevi. There was a ping of regret for all the suffering she’s both endured and caused… but in the end it was all worth it for nothing else but the Tia in her dreams. Once the urn was empty, Era swung her arm with it for three full rotations before launching it into the air. She was so far up high she didn’t hear it shatter in the desert below, but she didn’t care; Tage was gone for good, and she had shed her final tears for him moons ago.

It was a mess in Valhaas Barrow. Bottles were emptied out and strewn all over the place, with the strong aroma of soap and mint filling every chamber and tunnel. Era descended the great labyrinth to find Mizuna asleep in the corner, her horns adorned in bone jewelry, her face covered in drawings, and halfway buried in a pile of purring kittens. Even in a deep slumber the woman was all smiles -- her fingers occasionally stroking the soft ears of children nuzzling against her palms. Era wanted to wake her up so they could get out of here, eager to reunite with Zevi to hear how his conversation with her mother went, but she couldn’t bring herself to stir Mizuna from her blissful sleep; she would simply have to wait until she woke up on her own.

Then it slowly dawned on her. "Where is Thalen…?" He was supposed to keep watch and help translate for her while she cured the kittens, but he wasn't here. Era briskly walked through the quiet barrow in search of him, but all she found were drowsy tribewives and empty chambers; a twinge of panic bit the back of her neck when her mind raced with the possibilities. "Oh no… did Vahli-?!"

She stumbled into his chambers to find him and her sister Umi entangled beneath their blankets, with a handful of candles clinging to life as they were reduced to puddles along the window. Given the scene and scents in this chamber, it was obvious they enjoyed their fateful evening; but Thalen wasn't here, so away she went.

"Wait." Vahli whispered, moving to pull himself away from his exhausted tribewife. Era froze mid-step and watched him approach, but she kept her eyes above his waist. “I wanted to thank you for doing so much for our tribe. I’ve talked with a few of my wives, and… they seem content with the scaleborn woman's medicines. Without your help… saving our children would be up to Azeyma -- and Azeyma alone. Thank you.”

Era gave him a gentle smile. “I told you I won’t abandon my family. Our tribe is suffering. I know how much you don’t trust outsiders… but if we don’t start trading with foreigners, we’re going to starve to death. You shouldn’t thank me for saving our kittens… and the scaleborn woman has a name. Mizuna Kusakari.”

He thought about trying to pronounce that mouthful of a name, but decided against it. “You’re right. I think with some time I can warm up to the idea of strangers on our lands. Maybe.” He took in a deep breath before glancing back at Umi, who was still sound asleep. “You have been teaching her how to be a better mate. Why?”

“Why?” Era repeated without thinking. “She wants to be the Favored Wife.”

He stared at her for a long moment before he reached up to caress her chin. “You are my favorite.” Era flattened her ears out of reflex and stiffened from his touch, provoking a frown to flash across his lips as he regarded her. “You disapprove?”

“I’ve grown a taste for violence.” She whispered, briefly looking away from him. “I don’t have the temperament to sit around and raise a child all day. The thrill of combat… that rush when I carve my enemies into pieces… it’s the warrior’s way. My place is in battle, not in bed.”

Vahli pursed his lips as he let his hand drop from her. “That’s why you’re so alluring. A wife who can slaughter my enemies by day and pleasure me by night sounds too good to be true.” Slowly he pushed her against the wall, as his hands began to wander. “To fight side by side with a woman like you would be… amazing.”

Era clenched her jaw as she stared at his chest. “We had a deal…” Slapping his hands away from her body would be a terrible idea, but she had nowhere to go; he had her trapped in the corner of his chamber. “You agreed not to touch me…”

A hunger flashed in his gaze when he lifted her chin with one hand. “I agreed not to get you pregnant…” Era closed her eyes when their lips met, her tail twitching rapidly behind her back when he pressed himself against her figure; despite his escapades with Umi he was hardening at an alarming rate -- she had to think of a good enough excuse to leave, but her mind was addled and she ran out of time a while ago. “Come on…” He whispered after breaking their kiss, gently placing his hands on her shoulders to ease her to her knees. “Do that thing I like with your mouth…”

“Stop it…!” Era held her breath and vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving Vahli coughing and confused.

He took a step back and blinked at the evanescent cloud. "Era…? What trickery is this…?" He reached out to touch her again, but all he felt was warm air and the stone wall. "An illusion…? Or a dream?" Defeatedly he turned to stir Umi awake to take care of him, but she was already sitting up, with a grim scowl plastered across her face. As soon as they made eye contact she shot up to her feet and stormed toward the exit without a single word.

"Wait! It's not like that-!" He called out, reaching for her arm; with a low hiss she ripped away from his grasp, and through her tears she briefly turned to glare hurtfully at Vahli before disappearing around the corner. He was alone now, with only his thoughts and ruminations keeping him company.

Era was panting by the time she ran to the mouth of the barrow. The last thing she wanted to do was use anything that could be labeled 'magick' to her people, but what choice did she have? She hurt Zevi once by laying with her Nunh, she wasn't about to hurt him again. Not if she could help it. Now all she wanted to do was grab Thalen and Mizuna and put some distance between her and Vahli. "He's still in heat, which means Thalen isn't laying face up in the sand somewhere…" Era thought to herself, looking around for any trace of him. "He's not in the barrow… so he's not risking his life with a tribewife, and he's not dead. That means he has to be with…?"

Phalo narrowed his eyes when he saw a stranger limping up the path. The boys were fast asleep and sore from today's drills, so he was free to leave them here in his domain if he chose to. He was in no condition to defend the Tia, but he grasped his spear anyway, and descended down the rope ladder to stop this outsider from getting any closer. "What do you want?!" He shouted, hobbling over to stand between the stranger and his clowder of boys.

Thalen noticed a flat boulder nearby and promptly approached it. "To talk. Sit with me, will you? And go easy with the yelling… my head feels ready to burst."

"I have no business with you, outsider!" Phalo snarled, bristling to make himself appear as big as he could; but the aging Miqo'te was a shell of his former self, which wasn't that impressive to begin with.

"Outsider?" Thalen repeated, wincing when he slowly descended onto the rock. "All Tia are outsiders in their tribe's eyes. I'll make you a deal, old man." He lifted his hand to reveal that Black Galleon whiskey -- or what was left of it. "Humor me for a few minutes of your time, and I'll let you finish this off. I promise this stuff is leagues better than the rotting milk you normally drink."

His eyes fixated on that bottle, and he licked his dry lips; he couldn't handle fermented milk like he used to. Every time he wanted to get drunk to take the edge off, it meant his stomach would punish him for days by turning his feces into liquid. It had been ages since he was able to get his hands on alcohol from beyond the borders without the warriors, huntresses, or Nunh taking it all for themselves. Unable to resist the allure of a foreigner's poison, Phalo cautiously sat down beside the stranger. "What do you want…?"

Thalen passed the bottle to him and gazed up at the stars above. "Answers. I've never seen a fellow Miqo'te as old as you. Well, not a male, I mean. How have you lived so long without your Nunh killing you over the years?"

Phalo popped off the weathered cork and took the first swig of many; the potion burned like fire down his throat, and filled him with that old familiar warmth. Yet it was almost as smooth as spring water, and easily the best drink he's ever had -- it certainly loosened him up and put him in the mood for conversation. "I was born with a twisted leg. My mother begged my father to spare my life… told him I could serve the tribe well. I could never become a Nunh myself… everyone knew that." His ears pinned to his head and his gaze fell to the sand. "There are ways to rid oneself of… temptation. Between that and a low death in the wilderness, it was an easy choice."

"Fuck…" Thalen took the bottle from him and took a small swig of his own. This man was dealt a terrible hand right out of the gate, but he played with the cards all the same. It was admirable, of course, to devote a lifetime doing his best to make sure all the Tia that came after him had the best chance they could get at survival, but if Thalen was given the same choice -- he wouldn't even hesitate; without his vices he wouldn't make it.

"The Tia deserve better than short lives filled with fear and misery. I can’t give them much… but a little is still better than nothing." Phalo winced when he took another gulp, the black liquor running down his silver beard. "Is that all you wanted?"

Thalen shifted uncomfortably on the rock, wishing he had a soft warm bed to help cope with this tingling ache. "I'm from the Hipparion Tribe. We uh… don't have someone like you looking out for the boys. No Tia Keeper at all, actually. When we get a new Nunh, all the Tia from the previous one are kicked out into the wilderness. Some are still infants… left to die alone and afraid." Slowly he turned to meet the old man's gaze. "I was in my sixth summer when my father was slain. If it weren't for my older brother taking me under his wing, I wouldn't have lasted till morning."

"Tia are forbidden from working together…" Phalo noted, hardening his gaze.

"All these years sending kids out into the desert wastes and you still don't know much about us, huh?" Thalen couldn't hide his smile; this old man didn't know a damn thing about the world beyond his tribe's territory. "There's strength in numbers. Tia know it's wrong but they don’t care -- they just want to live. Like you. Like us." He didn't know what to say. He simply twisted in his seat to glance up at the makeshift hut that housed seven sleeping Tia. "My brother's name was Nolas. Bravest bastard I've ever known, with a heart as grand as the sun. He… Rarku butchered him right in front of me, in the sands not too far from here. Twenty summers past."

"I'm sorry." Phalo flattened his ragged ears as he stared at him, the bottle now with only a few more gulps left. "He was… cruel.”

“I came here with Era to retrieve his bones and weapons.” The younger man admitted. “I’m told you would have them.”

"Your brother’s bones are gone. I’ve been cremating the remains of fallen Tia for sixty summers so their souls can return to Azeyma. He is with the Warden if he challenged Rarku.” explained Phalo. Thalen wasn't exactly on speaking terms with the Goddess, and hadn't been for many summers; he survived this long without her guidance and favor, what's a few more decades? “But I may have his weapons. What did he carry in his final moments?"

"He used a simple iron sword he found when we were still in the Shroud. It had a red bandana wrapped around the hilt. And a wooden shield, split down the center from that glaive." Just talking about it made Thalen feel nauseous -- one of his only regrets was not returning to this terrible place to kill Rarku himself.

The old Miqo'te rose from the boulder and turned toward his hut. "Wait here." He commanded, hobbling back to his domain to leave Thalen alone with his thoughts.

Only anger and regret swam in circles in his head. Yet the man who took the only family he had left from him was long dead. His only reprieve was knowing that sadistic monster was powerless to stop him when he bent his beloved daughter over every piece of furniture in his apartment, and now he had a taste of his Favored Wife too. "Hope you enjoyed the show, asshole." If only Tage was still alive -- he would buy that man a drink any day of the week for putting the Black Butcher into the ground. Even still, Thalen wished he was the one to finish him for good; he must have spent a few hundred bells replaying that scenario in his head to practice what he would tell Rarku. Before he filled him with holes, of course.

Thalen perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps from behind. His heart skipped a beat when his gaze fell upon his brother's old weapons. The blade was so worn down it would be a wonder if it could even cut butter, and the once crimson bandana had faded to pink from too much exposure to the sun. The shield was smaller than he remembered, but then again, it was a practice shield designed for Hyuran squires; the cleave halfway down the middle had been patched together with some spare lumber and nails, but the integrity of the shield remained compromised. "I used these to train Tia over the years… I hope you don't mind."

"Wasn't planning on using them to fight." He tried to hide it, but his flat ears and trembling voice gave it away; he missed his brother more than anything else in this world.

"You can cry here." Phalo assured him as he offered the shield and sword. "I won’t judge you."

Through sheer willpower alone Thalen managed to swallow back down his sorrow. "I'll cry when I'm dead." He slowly draped the shield over his back and tucked the sword into the leather sheath he brought along with him. "Thank you for keeping his things. I'm K’thalen, by the way."

"S'phalo." The old man bowed as gracefully as he could. "Find peace and happiness. Any Tia that survives as long as you have deserves nothing less."

"I know you're not supposed to do this, but…" Thalen paused before turning his back to the Tia Keeper. "If you want any of the boys to survive long enough to experience true happiness, send them my way. It goes against Her laws, and yaddah yaddah, but you know what awaits them once they're sent out into the wilderness." He didn't bother waiting for a retort -- he already knew what the old man would say. "Keep the bottle. I need to get rid of the evidence anyway." With a slight wave the Tia descended down the path, half-expecting Vahli to be waiting there to cleave him in half for touching one of his wives. Yet when he reached the barrow, neither the brute nor the harlot was around. "Seems a tribewife really can keep her word."

"There you are!" A familiar voice from a familiar woman barked at him. "Where have you… wha-? What happened to you?!"

"Damn you're loud, darlin'." Thalen retorted in Eorzean, and just like that, his thick drawl and accent returned. "Can a feller drink in peace without all this shoutin'?"

Era ushered a half-awake Mizuna onto the wagon and handed her the reins, but she turned back around to judge him. Loudly. "You look like you were attacked. Did you wander too close to the zu nests?"

Thalen ignored her at first to climb up alongside Mizuna. "Decided to spar with a few Tia." He lied as easily as he breathed. "Last time I go easy on some kids… knocked me on my ass, they did."

Satisfied with that answer, she climbed up to sit down beside him. "Did… did you talk to my brothers? How are they doing…?"

"Better than I was at their age." He rubbed the back of his neck before stretching out to drape his arms around their shoulders. Once everyone was settled in, Mizuna flicked the reins and the wagon began its slow return to Ul'dah -- but for the two Miqo'te, 'as soon as possible' would still not be soon enough. "How're your nights goin'? Good I hope?"

"I released S'tage's ashes, argued with Vahli for a few bells because you stepped up to him…" Era looked up at him with a disapproving side glance. "You could have been killed. You know that, right?"

"What was I supposed to do? Tuck my tail between my legs and grovel?" He scoffed, shrugging. "If that big bastard wants to dance, I say we play some music and get this party started."

"Ugh… if I bring you back, that just might happen…"

"Imagine it… S'thalen Nunh." He chortled. "Then you'd be answerin' to me, lass." The thought of sitting around in that sandbox all day was shockingly amusing, or maybe it was from the Black Galleon Whiskey in his system; when he glanced over to see her roll her eyes at him, she was instead staring at him intensely.

"That… would solve a lot of my problems…" Era hummed, drumming her fingers on the guard railing. "With you as my Nunh, I'd be able to come and go as I please…"

Thalen loudly cleared his throat before turning to glance down at Mizuna. "Anyroad… how were the kittens, Doc? Cute?"

"Cute?" She repeated, blinking slowly. "They were so soft, and warm, and cuddly." The brightest smile she's worn in over twenty six summers lit up her face, almost as if she was as tipsy as the Tia. "We sang songs for bells. I got them to dance with me. Then I told them some stories once everyone was tired… they didn't understand a word I said, but I think they just liked watching me talk. Cute? Yes, K'thalen… yes they were very cute."

"Well… glad two of us had a good time." He smiled, kicking his feet up. "Just a few more bells and we can rent some rooms in Lil'Ala Mhigo before we get ba-"

"When are you and R'zevi going to have a child of your own?" Mizuna asked, leaning forward so she could look at her. "You're both young and in love. What is taking so long?"

"D-doctor Kusakari! Nooo…!" Era began turning strawberry red while Thalen threw his head back and belly laughed.

---

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