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maddmuses · 1 month

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Zesaer Xorlarrin

(Other character Images Here)

(BEFORE WE GET STARTED CW FOR THE FOLLOWING BEING FACTORS OR AT LEAST MENTIONED/IMPLIED IN THIS BIO (Not an endorsement of these ideas, but some of these are extant factors of the Dark Urge backstory and/or Drow society as a whole): Incest Mention/Reference, Dubious Consent, Animal Torture, Other Typical Durge stuff)

Date of Birth: Uktar 11, 1328 Dale Reckoning Place of Birth: Citadel Xorlarrin, Menzoberranzan, Northdark Titles: The Blood of The Mother, The Failed One Aliases: Zes’, Bloodspatter, The Princess, The Dark Urge Home: The Western Heartlands, The Sword Coast Gender Identity: AFAB Woman (Pronouns They/She); Disclaimer: Plural Pronouns used when referring to this individual during and after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3 as The Urge personality exists as a distinct and often opposed personality to Zesaer Xorlarrin, despite both answering to this name Orientation: Omni w/ sapphic preference Height: 5’6” (168 cm) Weight: 101 lb. (45 kg) Family: Zeerith Q’Xorlarrin (Mother/Genetic Template), Bhaal (Divine Father), Lolth (Believed Divine Mother), Kiriy Xorlarrin (Half-Sister), Berellip Xorlarrin (Half-Sister), Saribel Xorlarrin (Half-Sister), Brack’thal Xorlarrin (Half-Brother; Cover-Story Father), Ravel Xorlarrin (Half-Brother), Most Bhaalspawn (Divine Siblings) Alignment: Lawful Evil (As Zesaer) Chaotic Evil (As The Dark Urge)

Appearance A striking physical duplicate to her mother, Zesaer Xorlarrin can easily be mistaken for her mother, except in the way that they carry themselves, their style of hair, minor physical distinctions and features, and ultimately their preferred mode of dress. Zesaer is a drow with a lichen base but a distinctly dark tone which often gives it a “very dark gray” appearance at the casual glance, and this coloration is only occasionally interrupted by a small number of isolated dark blue freckles. She has soft and regal features that could easily draw comparison to her mother’s, with a sharp edge, said to be like the swords which she favors.

As a noble, Zesaer wears her white hair in a lengthy style, due to not being a traditional figure in the succession (at least as far as Zeerith and certain privileged individuals should know) her hair is pulled back into a messy knot, with occasional strands peeking out from this and framing her forehead akin to bangs, rather than a typical “youngest or middle daughter” style; in the back of this style, though, is a shorter mane that features from a sort of undercut that grows shorter as it is brought forward to the sides, a distinction in hair common among deathsingers.

Another factor that allows Zesaer to be easily and casually distinguished as a deathsinger in drow society is a white ink tattoo of a shattered longsword pointed downward on her throat. This mark is meant to allow others to easily identify Zesaer as a deathsinger for the purposes of reverence and their removal from the typical machinations of politics among drow society, at least so far as Lolth cares for them to. Deathsingers are not typically permitted to hold their station and a rank in their house at the same time, so as to ensure the effective carrying of their duties to the city, and drow interests as a whole. Accordingly, this particular tattoo marks her as both an “off-limits” target to others for random violence, but possibly also a bullseye for those meaning to target her, her house’s future, or just the deathsingers, specifically. Further, though this wouldn’t be apparent unless she was in some fashion of casual or lack of dress, Zesaer has a massive tattoo of two tentacles meant to resemble those of a displacer beast, spreading from an origin point on her sternum, wrapping each along the side of her torso, and then laying across her back, with the effigy of its spikes pointed upwards to be visible, over her shoulder blades. Finally, just above her ribs on the left side where abdomen meets chest, hidden most of the time, is a small line of Irraefay’s name, written in Drow, Elvish, and Common, punctuated by a crescent.

Often the first thing that most might comment upon, even among drow, are Zesaer’s eyes. An unusual and brilliant color of red, they almost remind the party who looks upon them of freshly-spilt blood, and glow particularly brightly when they shift into their infravision. At one point her lover, Irraeafay, had compared them to rubies set into a campfire. This feature is one of those which seems to be strangely distinct from her mother’s.

Tall for a drow, Zesaer’s build is considered to be willowy, despite having developed a somewhat impressive physique from the intense nature of deathsinger training, carrying even a few scars from this time, including a stab mark offset to the left from her navel, a clean slice scar across her bicep, and a thin faded one at the center of her throat that is obscured by her sword tattoo. From her time of being a subject to various experiments in Moonrise, there are a series of fine (mostly-healed) white fine line scars along her arms, thighs, and ribs, that were clearly self-inflicted.

Typical equipment for deathsingers are in reference to Lolth in aesthetic, carrying all manner of spider-like armor and clothing, particularly with webbing motifs. Most of the time Zesaer prefers to wear armor that is made of leather or spidersilk, but on occasion she has also been known to use magical spells to simulate armor, and in such cases will wear very obviously fine and seemingly-unwieldy clothing to give others the impression of vulnerability. In favor of gaudy options she will often use equipment that has been detailed with gold, or when she is shy on coin electrum, even if it often serves very little to no practical function. One thing that she will carry, regardless of the time, though, is a pendant of carved everfrost in the shape of a moon with the face of a beautiful drow woman carved into it, once worn and gifted to her from Irraeafay. This pendant is actually a holy symbol of Eilistraee, though a subtle one that is charmed to resemble in the face that who owns the wearer’s heart, so as to better obscure its nature among Lolthite societies.

Personality Zesaer after the incident, and even before, with Orin was often defined by her duality. A part of her who understood why the urge was wrong, with time, and that who came to desire to indulge in it. And of course with the lost memory, the part that was frightened of her urge, but then again would also give into it at times. Particularly following her time with the party, the Zesaer of judicious wickedness, and the Zesaer who gave in to whatever intrusive thought may come to her head, were little more than one in the same.

Of course, like any proper Lolthite, Zesaer carries herself with a haughtiness that is only occasionally deserved, and with a great deal of contempt for others. But at the same time, she only acts in the ways that her culture taught her to when they make sense. After all, killing and enslaving others with no regard for consequence wasn’t usually a sound decision. Also hedonistic, particularly in the times since the loss of her great love, Zesaer is unafraid to indulge in those things which she feels good, barring those of the urge that has had to be separated from herself.

But together, they’re a whole other sort of hell.

Zesaer is known to enjoy sweets and song, but will frequently shed tears without understanding why when certain songs play.

Biography Bhaal’s many plans and machinations that he engaged in, thanks to his foreknowledge of his own impending demise in the Times of Troubles, were often complicated and at points carried redundancies. The bhaalspawn broadly were means for him to resume his divine existence if he were to fall, but not all were created equally. One in particular was made both with the intention of being a suitable fallback vessel for his divine essence if he were to perish and not be able to effectively return, but also could serve to carry out his ultimate end times endgame of killing all living things, and then itself to bring a close to life on all of Toril, and possibly all of realmspace altogether.

And so, in a particularly bold move, Bhaal moved to impersonate The Queen of Spiders, Lolth, for what society would better mold a child of his into a killer than the drow? But unlike his other drow bhaalspawn that he had already begotten, this one would not be the child of himself and a mortal, but rather a being made purely from his divine essence meant to mirror the mother only insofar as it could service his cover story. A divine duplicate that was a mutual clone of the other parent, rather than a traditional divine child. Visiting Zeerith Xorlarrin in her dreams, before she changed her name to correlate with the city that would be named for her house, he masqueraded as Lolth and promised to bestow upon her a child of divine nature, a boon that would serve the woman in whatever schemes she hoped for in the future, a living endorsement of the goddess’s fickle delight in the drow’s service. Then, within a year from that day, Zesaer Xorlarrin would be born.

Zesaer’s nature as a divine child was kept from most, though, with the cover story being the same as it was with her elder brother Ravel, that she was a specimen chosen intentionally from potential breeding stock so as to best reflect her mother’s strength, rather than to be plagued with potential deficiencies and flaws that many males in their society were believed to carry. Of course this euphemism was sufficient for many to draw a conclusion on their own in most of the city, barring Zeerith’s inner circle, and Brack’thal himself who knew this to not be the case definitively.

Despite her being endorsed by Zeerith as her youngest daughter, Zesaer actively was kept from the priesthood of Lolth, and would not attend Arach-Tinilith when the time would come, as was explained to those who were privileged to inquire as to why. Zeerith, with her knowledge and devotion to Lolth, was to be truly lacking only two things in her age, a youth and continued lifespan of another five or so further centuries after her daughter would be a young woman, and powers in the arcane. So, her newest “daughter” whose body was virtually indistinct from that of a young Zeerith would be trained in arms so that she would be an even greater threat with the blade, and in arcana, so that her brain and body would be filled with magical secrets upon taking control of it, so that Zeerith may one day place her soul into the new form. And in the meantime a deathsinger was never a true detriment to a noble house to have.

Where was Lolth when all this was transpiring? Well, she simply enjoyed the new essence of chaos and unbalance that this new development brought to the table. While in some cases she would consider the existence of this divine child an affront to her design and own divinity, she understood that the presence of such a being wouldn’t supersede her own worship with any drow, and would have caused strife among them that she might think to cause herself, with no work or cost to her own essence at all.

As is typical for drow noble children, Zesaer was raised largely under the supervision of those who were functionally her siblings. Studious and isolated, Zesaer saw little of other drow who were not her relatives, aside from the occasional bodyguard or hedge case of prospective or recently-met allies who were intrigued by the existence of such a child. Concerns arose early on from her elder brothers and sisters, though, because the child seemed to show few of the typical drow impulses for violence and murder; she had not even attempted to kill any of her caretakers when given the chance, even after abusing her! Still, Zeerith considered this a matter of minimal concern, after all what would come next surely could mold her child into a proper asset in her machinations.

Zesaer, after spending her early years being instructed fairly oppressively in the ideas and ways of drow society, with no small amount of physical reminders to go alongside the verbal ones, would soon enough move onto magical and martial training by Tsabrak Xorlarrin and Talabrina Xorlarrin respectively. Her instruction was not unusual if a house was trying to cultivate a potentially versatile and powerful male who showcased similar competence in both sword and magic, without an exception in one breaking away from the other, this was a period of time in which all of Zesaer’s waking hours were consumed by either study or training, and neither were particularly forgiving. Despite the usual distinction between their gender in a matriarchal society normally preventing Tsabrak from acting against the young drow, Tsabrak was specifically empowered by Matron Mother Zeerith to do whatever necessary to make her an excellent wizard, and so he did; he relished in every opportunity to punish and torment the young woman for even the slightest shortcoming in the magical. And of course her sister Talabrina would not withhold any of her trademark harshness, if Zesaer was to be a suitable warrior for the house.

With time she would reach the age of 25, and be expected to enter the academy, Tier Breche. Zesaer publicly entered into her training under an alternative course of training; alternative in the sense that her identity was obscured, and she initially posed as a male. This procedure was considered to be most humiliating for the daughter in question by most drow, and would earn those who told her to do so, if she didn’t insist that it was her own idea. In the Grand Melee, and subsequent training, she quickly stood out as a particularly capable user of short and light weapons, which drew the attention of Phyraffyn, the Third Singer of the Deathsinger Corps.

Though the deathsingers were often recruited from all fashion of places, few females existed among them, as the training in arms within Arach-Tinilith came far later than it did for many males, prompting few to be brought up as they had already been advanced fairly far into the ways of Lolth. In fact, it was often considered heretical to abandon the way of the priestesshood of Lolth in favor of the way of deathsong, though some were still at least trained in the rudiments of the style. So most deathsingers were males, commonborn, or both.

It was thanks, mostly, to a farce such as the one her mother executed that allowed Zesaer to draw the attention of the corps and see her study at the academy adjusted once more. With her time in Melee drawn to half of its initial time, only now four and a half years, and her time in Sorcere would be the same period of time, with one year in the religious school of Arach-Tinilith, still longer than any male should see, but not so much that it would be considered an affront to Lolth in wilfully creating an ignorant noble in her ways. As a component of her training for deathsong, however, she would not spend solid blocks in either of her primary instructions, alternating year-to-year, so as to best weave together her swordplay with her magic, and not becoming overly-specialized in either, alongside another deathsong student, Belnozz (a commoner male). Due to her training becoming more mixed and atypical in nature, Zesaer’s identity, as well as her initial masquerade, were made apparent to the broader population of the school and drow society.

The next nine years of her life were especially difficult in this sense, as while she lived a life of privilege at the academy, and after 1358 had become able to mingle with the broader drow society outside of Tier Breche. Difficulties came, of course, with being the only female in male-dominated schools among drow who had not lived in the hierarchies of their society as strictly (in the case of commonborn drow) or as long (as was the case for all of them) to quite understand the consequences of acting against a female in such a place. And the academy’s leadership itself, as well as Zeerith, felt little compulsion to make this correction. After all, Zesaer’s path was in contradiction to that which was intended for all drow.

Threat of attack, assassination, and worse constantly hung over Zesaer’s head for this decade, worsening even as she began to become initiated in the path of deathsong, the deathsinger corps. steadily began to intervene and serve as a defensive force in her life, as she fast approached entrance into the organization. But was it too little too late? For it was during this period of her life that Zesaer began to feel… ***Urges***.

Intrusive thoughts. Violent… Bloody… Dark… Were these the feelings that she had come so late to? That her mother had been dismissive of the lack, while she’d heard hushed whispers among servants and siblings about her not being of a proper drow disposition?

In either case, her potential in martial exercises seemed to soar, and her magic, where before was about typical for a Xorlarrin, seemed to grow even more potent when directed at a living target, more so than any others. And soon enough, graduation came. While most of the academy would participate in the typical traditions, deathsingers, particularly females, didn’t fit into the mold in an easy way, and Zesaer might have once again been made a target if placed among the priestesses, who she was not qualified spiritually to engage in the ritual with, and would be demeaned to sit with the males.

Deathsingers, on the other hand, had their own graduation ceremony, or rather an initiation. The seven remaining schools of the deathsong (the eighth school of the darksong being cast out of polite drow society, even among this order) had a representative among them, and they would put Zesaer and Belnozz through their final trial. The Crucible of The Severed Spinner.

Each given a longsword which gave off a faint glow that would attract creatures to them, they were turned loose into a cavern that saw frequent use by the driders, as many such creatures were once deathsingers or aspirants, and they were to return, with proof that their “spinnerette” had been properly severed from Lolth, in such a way that they could no longer be a part of the mainstream Lolthite society in the same way as before, but also not to such a degree that they would be of no use to their dark lady. After all, many such deathsinging driders had wound up in such a position thanks to this very shortcoming, either becoming functionally useless to Lolth in any other form, or by proving too insidious in their training to be anything other than a potential contagion to broader drow hierarchies.

While under the influence of a strong elixir made from blood and drider venom, it would be up to both prospects to experience various visions and make their way through the dungeon, before coming to their realization and executing the mission.

Led by the shadow of a displacer beast, Zesaer would eventually come to the realization, as a trio of driders bore down upon them. This test was not to defeat a group of driders, many of whom were likely as good or better at deathsong than she, but to simply survive at the expense of your weapon. And, while Belnozz’s back was turned, she plunged her blade into his back, before forcefully snapping the sword off inside of him. This killed the enchantment that kept the blade glowing, and allowed the woman to quickly flee the scene.

Upon her return it was made clear that so long as she broke her sword, no matter what condition or who she might have returned with, she had passed the test. The driders in question were specifically compelled to attack those with the swords in-tact and ignore all others. Despite assailing and almost certainly killing her compatriot, it was a solution that was extremely Lolth-like in nature, and thus she had passed. Based on the visions she experienced, Zesaer joined the school of the displacer beast, known well for its illusionary and assassination favoring of the deathsong arts, which also personally appealed to a woman who found it easiest to come and go where she pleased to do her business.

Further training as a Deathsinger occupied the woman for a pair of decades, as the specific parts of the art which were external to what one could expect to learn in Tier Breche, including their actual sword style, The Displacer being remarked as the one which taught its fighters to wield multiple weapons at once, often matching. She studied under Deathsinger Irraeafay, a master of Displacer-Style from the recently-fallen Ched Nasad.

Training was often trying and difficult, but also often rewarding for the drow as she worked with the other female, both outcasts from the male-dominated deathsinger organization. She frequently would accompany Irraefay on her missions, but was told to observe, and watch, only fighting when absolutely necessary, and mostly saving her magical energy for their own quality of life, and use of skills to sharpen them against appropriate challenges. It was strange, as any other time she had been trained by a drow, it was like being thrown to a pack of aboleth, armed with a dulled spoon. But in this time with Irraefay she was exposed to notions of mercy, tolerance, patience, and even kindness. Their spars didn’t end with Zesaer constantly wracked with pain and wounds to heal.

She had even taught her to sing and dance, notions that nominally had to do with deathsong, but in a far greater detail than she’d been led to understand. And she had begun to experience something that could only be the embers of a fledgeling love for another drow.

Zesaer did not realize, at the time, though that while she was being instructed in the way of the displacer, so as to not draw attention, she was also being taught in the way of the darksong. Irraefay was a Darksong school deathsinger who had studied and masqueraded her way into the organization’s number, with the intention of recruiting and drawing lolthite drow away from Menzoberranzan at any chance she could, but especially once they had finished their training. But the spy, too, had failed to follow one of the basic lessons of being an Eilistraee Moondancer in the spider’s web; don’t fall for a drow whose soul is still pledged to Lolth.

The twenty years of training would eventually be punctuated by the pair being declared partners in arms, sisters to battle for drow society and Lolth’s interest wherever they could. This would bring Zesar abroad, seeing many different caverns, the disgusting state of less faithful drow cities (as none could stand to Menzoberranzan’s majesty), and even some places on the surface, her first experience with the dawn’s burning sting coming within a year of her training’s completion. And it was at this time that the voice, the thoughts, the urges, were at their weakest, in the arms of the first one to show her any true sincere kinship and love in her life. But even this was a cruel prank from her father. Just as much as Lolth manipulated the pair, so too was Bhaal manipulating his daughter.

As her 100th birthday drew near, and mumblings of her being a “privileged princess” among the other deathsingers had reached their heights, the young woman withdrew further and further from other drow. She spent more time fixating on her blooming romance, and whatever new adventures and sights might come next. And of the many centuries she still had left. When Irraefay would be called away for a mission in the spider queen’s service, she left Zesaer with a gift, a beautiful locket wrought of adamantine, with beautiful moon and spider engravings. This gift was in part a confession too, though.

Irraefay revealed herself as a spy for Lolth’s rogue daughter, a moondancer whose purpose was to rescue those from Lolth’s machinations. The things she taught and said to the drow? They were not teachings of the spider at all, but the prophecies of the moon, dressed as a “true teaching” meant for those strong enough to survive Arach-Tinilith. And though it was distressing to hear, Zesaer felt comfort and a renewed love. Once Irraefay would return, the pair planned to leave the city once more on another patrol, and from there flee to Waterdeep in the dark promenade.

But with the mentor’s departure, so soon darkness rapidly encroached again on the young noble. Her mother started requesting she appear more and more in the various ceremonies and holy days, on more than one occasion slaying the sacrifice to Lolth of a surface elf, a notion that made her feel deeply sick as she understood it to be a profane affront to that which her love held dear. And with this sickness so too returned the thoughts, the visions, and the voices. Because no matter how much it upset her that Irraefay hated those rituals. She couldn’t say the same of herself.

Her heart raced, and pulse pounded. She wanted more, and the blood tasted sweet. More than once she found her eyes lingering on the remains as they were taken away, and the reverie of flesh in Lolth’s name often followed. And in the afterglow of one such a night, so too came Sceleritas Fel.

A fiend who purported to be acting in her service, he provided the drow with interesting trinkets, and powerful magical items. He made comforting whispers and regaled the girl with stories of a “true father”, which she assumed to be Lolth.

This would all come to a head as Zeerith called her daughter to her chamber. On this tenday before her 100th birthday, her blooding was to be revealed. It would be her heretic lover Irraefay, Zeerith had been told by Lolth in a vision of the affront to the goddess that the daughter had committed, and of the perverse affection they shared. She was to make this right in the same fell swoop as she was to become responsible for her own actions as a fully-mature drow in Lolth’s fold. Any follower of Eilistraee was just as low as a surface creature, and twice as dangerous, after all. It was foretold that the apostate would return on Zesaer’s birthday, and that is when her hunt would begin.

For the next ten days, despite having no intention of following through with her mother’s monstrous request, the urges only grew stronger. She found herself mumbling on many occasions, thinking constantly of blood and viscera, and even torturing small animals to fight off boredom. Things that would have disgusted her love. Even the comfort of Sceleritas, whose visits seemed to provide a small relief from these feelings when he came, further solidified the woman’s belief that Lolth had understood all of this, and was giving her daughter one final chance to not displease the dark goddess. But still… The moon drow was a goddess herself too, no? Why would she not be able to protect them?

Because Lolth was the most powerful.

The thoughts and urges were like a ceaseless assault to her senses, causing the woman to do little other than eat, sleep, and toy with sharp things most of the time. But for a single moment, it all fell away.

In the early hours of her 100th year, Irraefay appeared to Zesaer. Hushing and pulling her into an embrace before they made their escape, she was told of the plan. They would have to march for three days, until they eventually met with a moondancer caravan that would transport them to the surface, and then move in the cover of night the rest of the way to Waterdeep. If all went well, they would reach Neverwinter within one tenday, and on the high road to Waterdeep in just less than a month total.

Her final two days with her lover were wracked with thoughts, compulsions, conflicting impulses, and elation. A mix of love and sorrow that would have broken most, and had broken Zesaer a thousand times in the days coming up.

Laying together on their last night before meeting the caravan, the afterglow of their final affirmations of their love to another, she did it. The young deathsinger completed her blooding in the moment that Irraefay’s last words caught in her throat, a declaration of happiness and love. Tears and blood mixed in that moment, but such things would also prove as the perfect disguise. A paint that allowed the noble to easily fool the moondancers she encountered into believing that a force of deathsingers had followed them on their “routine patrol” out of Lolthite paranoia, and to make haste as fast as they could. Just the type of improvisational thinking that her first love had instilled in Zesaer to make.

But Waterdeep was insufficient; after escaping from the caravan within Undermountain, she continued on her way. Somewhere far, but where Fel told her that her godly parent needed her to be. Baldur’s Gate. She would discover her status as actually a daughter of Bhaal, when meeting the cultists who would convince her of this truth, and make her their leader. Though Gortash would later imply things happened, she also had no affection for Bane’s chosen, seeing him as the exemplification of that which Lolth taught her drow to look down upon in the gender.

Power and Abilities (Lore) -Conditioning: Zesaera’s experience in the underdark and broader society has been that of a long series of harsh and challenging physical trials, but despite her status as a female in such a society, playing to the numbers game required her to rely on speed and skill, more than physical might. So, becoming lithe and fast, Zesaera ensured that she showcased her potential for speed and dexterity, an unassuming threat to those who thought her an easy target. While her physical strength contends with that of a slightly above-average athletic person, capable of benching roughly 100 lb. But her sense of coordination, balance, quickness, and agility are simply superhuman. This is showcased not only in her ability to manage and juggle many factors mentally and physically, but it seems that she can wield most any weapon suitable to her strength level with grace and accuracy, disregarding her actual familiarity with said weapon. This even is showcased when using long and awkward weapons, like paired longswords, or the now prolific dual-scimitars. This has been further practiced and honed with many hours of training and work in not only melee-magthere, but in her deathsinger training. Consistent with a harsh regiment of workouts and the need of a deathsinger to be ever vigilant and in the frontier bringing about Lolth’s justice, Zesaera is able to operate for exceptional lengths of time without rest, and is able to withstand fairly substantial blows from enemies.

-Spellcasting: Consistent with other in her species, Zesaer is a proficient spellcaster. The drowish culture regarding magic is to instruct from childhood in certain magics that one can do inherently thanks to the faerzress-rich environment of the underdark, and as a noble she is capable of simple levitation and types of illusion, but time in the Arcane academy within Tier Breche would further solidify to ensure that she had at least known the magics necessary for true faerie fire and to create globes of darkness. But specifically, as she was to be a deathsinger, Zesaer was instructed further in arcane magic, rather than the divine typically expected of a female. So, she has learned the skills necessary to cast arcane magic, and though deathsingers are traditionally wizards, the further, more specific, training instilled into her by Irraefay (in part as a darksong school bladesinger but also consistent with some interpretations of the displacer beast school) has resulted in the woman becoming a caster more akin to a bard, with a musical nature. The specific magic that Zesaer favors is always going to be situational, but Abjuration, Illusion, and a little Evocation, tend to serve her very well. Additionally, all drow have a natural resistance to magic, and while not outright immune to it, spellcasters have to hit drow elves with some serious power to get a result, hence why wizards and clerics tend to be so valued in their society. This resistance does not extend to magically-enhanced weaponry or psychic powers of any sort.

-Senses: Drow elves have especially acute senses, and are able to see in total darkness as if it were a moonlit night. Additionally, they have the ability to shift their vision into the infrared spectrum, which accompanies a glow that Zesaer is especially proud of in the case of her own eyes. This particular function is a favorite tactic of hers to intimidate (Adv. on Intimidate Checks situationally in places that aren’t bright or daytime). Thanks to the decades, at this point, that she has spent on the surface, Zesaer is no longer sensitive to the point of being debilitating during the daytime, though she will often develop migraines after more than a few hours, so she may seek some sort of hood or shelter to put herself through less pain. Also typical for an elf, she is sensitive to magical fields and can detect them, knowing when magic is occurring, or if an object is magical in nature, though not its specific function. Bright lights and bursts of sudden light otherwise, though, can still cause Zesaer to become stunned and stumble for longer than it might a normal human, leaving her dazed for several long moments. Despite working on and honing her senses as a deathsinger, Zesaer has never actually been all that detail or attention-oriented. As a result she can occasionally miss some painfully obvious things, and JUST narrowly.

-Rogue Training: Part of the typical caste of training in melee-magthere, this skill was reinforced upon further during her time as a deathsinger. After all, sneaking and stealing wasn’t always the worst idea when hoping to achieve a mission. Zesaer particularly loves to favor double-talk, and smooth-talk, pickpocketing, as well as sneaking around and performing feats of acrobatics. Despite this, she also has a fairly deep understanding of lore and local histories, making it a point to study nearly anywhere she goes. After a time in the harsh city streets, too, she has picked up no small amount of the savviness needed to survive the surface, including learning Thieves’ Cant, and the ability to move and act with both quickness and efficiency. But any Rogue worth their salt knows how to slit a throat especially deftly, of course. The underdark, and the harsh realities it taught to her, means that Zesaer will never fail to give up the first strike, and how to best exploit that first strike. This is the way of the displacer beast, to attack and exploit an enemey’s weaknesses at the most opportune time.

-Bard Training: In order to enforce versatility and ability, the school of the darksong makes sure that its practitioners are deft and capable in a broad range of skills and abilities, as well as being able to weave their magic into the song created by their blade. Thus, darksong school is especially deadly when gifted with a large weapon, or two of them at the same time, both styles which Zesaer is capable of, but the latter she favors. As an arcane spellcaster, through her bardic powers, is capable of 4th level spells intuitively. Through the power of her musical magic, she can manifest spells, or often enhances her swordplay fairly directly. Bards are also capable of performing music (Zesaer’s preferred technique is singing) to enhance the recovery of themselves and others.

-Ranger Training: Strictly necessary for her time in the martial academy, Zesaer has developed skills akin to that of the surface’s ranger. Though she mostly blends it with her stealth abilities to further depress opponents with an onslaught of fast-acting and preemptive strikes. Despite this, she still kept up with the physical exercises and drills that she was put through, which essentially makes Zesaer familiar with any type of weapon or armor. Through this, too, she has learned to act as predator on nearly any foe, nearly invisible when she hides among the shadow, and has learned to assume a variety of magical disguises thanks to this reliance on the shadow.

-Combat: As a swordswoman, Zesaer is among the most skilled in the sword coast, using the two-sword style that many know the drow for, though she doesn’t play to a hit-and-run, preferring to hit-and-kill in the early phases of any fight. Exceptional throughout her training, Bhaal has ensured this latest daughter would be a talented murderer, and her body doesn’t leave much room for the idea that she is somehow a weakling. With a keen interest in the art of murder, even if obscured by the justification that it was in Lolth’s service, Zesaer constantly seeks to improve her sword skills, to what end? She is not sure. But even prior to her amnesia, she firmly knew that she wished to be a superior in swordplay to every deathsinger that she met, and possibly any other swordsman who crosses her path.

Equipment and Possessions Prior to Amnesia (Spread to the winds): Harmonic Dueler, Rapier +2, Bhaalist Armor, Shadow of Menzoberranzan, Shade-Slayer Cloak, Bonespike Gloves, Irraefay’s Locket (Custom Item Stats TBR ;) ) After Amnesia (Act 1): Phalar Aluve, Adamantine Scimitar, Drow Studded Leather Armor, Shadow of Menzoberranzan, The Deathstalker Mantle, Wondrous Gloves, Irraefay’s Locket, Ring of Protection After Amnesia (Act 2): Harmonic Dueler, Phalar Aluve, Yuan-Ti Scale Mail, Shadow of Menzoberranzan, The Deathstalker Mantle, Wondrous Gloves, Boots of Brilliance, Irraefay’s Locket, Killer’s Sweetheart, Ring of Protection After Amnesia (Act 3; No Bhaal Run): Harmonic Dueler, Phalar Aluve, Armor of Agility, Birthright, Cloak of Protection, Wondrous Gloves, Boots of Persistence, Irraefay’s Locket, Killer’s Sweetheart, True Love’s Caress (Other owned by her romanced companion)

Powers and Abilities (Mechanical; BG3) Basic Stats (Lvl 1) Str 10 (0) Dex 18 (+4) Con 14 (+2) Int 8 (-1) Wis 8 (-1) Cha 16 (+3) Rogue (Assassin) 3/Ranger (Gloomstalker) 3/Bard (College of Swords) 6 Two-Weapon Fighting and Defense Fighting Styles Ranger Knight Favored Enemy (Humanoid: Elf) Urban Tracker Favored Terrain Dual-Wielder Feat

(Other Edition Takes TBD)

#The Lady of Seldarine Sonata (Zesaer Xorlarrin)

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winterfable · 4 months

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The hidden way is tiny

The Way is empty, yet inexhaustible, Like an abyss! It seems to be the origin of all things. It dulls the sharpness, Unties the knots, Dims the light, Becomes one with the dust. Deeply hidden, as if it only might exist. I do not know whose child it is. It seems to precede the ancestor of all.

Lao Tzu returns here to the mysterious nature of Tao, the Way. It’s so vague and distant that we can only guess its existence by the deductions we make from observing the world around us. It’s the inner working of the universe, and probably therefore also the originator of it.

Tao is the natural law by which the universe operates.

A natural law has no form of its own, but governs all there is, and never gets fatigued or diminished. Although it causes all the magnificence of the world we live in, it’s infinitesimal, like the dust of the dust.

This law that governs all can have no preferences. It treats the biggest things the same as the smallest, none with less care. To Tao, they are essentially the same.

Mountains, planets, galaxies, they all consist of atoms, which do in turn consist of particles so minute that their existence may never be confirmed. Since everything in the world consists of things small, the minute is closer to the nature of Tao. And since most things in the world go by unnoticed, the hidden is also closer to the nature of Tao.

Because Lao Tzu sees the Way as the reason behind all, he concludes that it must have the most to do with the things that we regard as lesser. The big events are rare, while everyday proceedings take place constantly. The bigger the size of things, the fewer they are. So, the Way deals mainly with the small.

We should ponder this, so that we remember to pay the most attention to the things that seem to be the least significant.

The most enduring powers in the world are those that stand out the least. Sharpness does not last, nor does the tightness of a knot, or the brightest light. There is nothing that remains longer than its own dust.

So, if we become like dust, we will prevail – and we will be in unison with Tao.

That has not been the typical trait of mankind so far. Instead, we ravel at burning down forests to build temples and palaces, drilling tunnels through mountains, and changing the courses of rivers. Ours is noisy species.

--Stefan Stenudd en "Tao Te Ching: The taoism of Lao Tzu explained"

#tao te ching #stefan stenudd #lao tzu

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twiainsurancegroup · 6 months

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buzz-london · 6 months

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youtube

Radical Islamists in France insist Hijab in School, Threaten Principal | Major Gaurav Arya - 1st April 2024

The incident at Lycée Maurice-Ravel in France, where a principal asked students to remove her headscarf in compliance with French law, resulted in national outrage and a subsequent resignation by the principal due to concerns for personal safety and school security. Accusations of physical assault against the principal were dropped due to lack of evidence, leading to a lawsuit filed by the principal against the student for allegedly intimidating a public official. The government condemned threats against the principal and announced plans to sue the student for false accusations and inciting online death threats, sparking debates on secularism and the treatment of religious minorities in France. French PM Gabriel Attal emphasized the importance of secularism while acknowledging the need to respect religious freedom, highlighting the delicate balance between these principles in French society. In This The Chanakya Dialogues English Video Major Gaurav Arya says this incident reminds India's Karnataka Hijab Row 2022.

#france #gaurav arya #islam #Youtube

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libidomechanica · 7 months

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Ida: here, as freeze in yonder

A sonnet sequence

While yet shewe like heaven’s like a wind bemones his song I probably at the offence, is she wilderness, the eternity. How say I only men knowledge, while it fed. Praise, the come to herd of this be here the scale. Such precious sight is that. These unto a flower climbs up to a sudden in dazzling it was angry! Ida: here, as freeze in yonder is earthly guests are roll’d; by various waist, and to foot, translate! Every day displaces other needs must seek! Can I pour hidden weapons to learnd a narrow forehead of the strains may as doom creep into my absent case.

Compact of love: quest. A greene; yet I felt this icy lips throng his own despise. Grape again, we two bodies the pass of the Earth’s head, unto thy keep aloof, who wander no more, Love, in thine eyes of blood, that calm pervades his neck unto Themselves orbic and the sea. Ne can supple, she her seat while the times with the restore him up underneath, spoke the lips, more of prophecy; for if there. But now we lit on fallen in the tears, yet doth fine old warriors! To be blame the threading glaciers and the night as it seemed lightning? I have it time shown me to overcame melissa—you!

May-wreath the diff’rence can lend—they be. You, Bob, are ye at with his grief One fine-odour’d flammable cluttering changed: auguste for every conversation thee that naïve light vapour, which the brittle tent of sight; but as freedom by. Beneath thy delights of clear with prudence then my soul, we fail, we fall outlive my heart, Belovéd Heart’s devil take rest.-Eyed rival by petal by his own identity; they made, which, which brought back in the starts that I cannot the sheet until Death rose up later. Is one: and she would she beginners have wrought my book and how this cannot receive.

And the openings gay betwixt a mist: the turmoil of expiring survives in a handle shadow and she is shepehooke hath no steps can find the mother’s curse, as that is fled, when I rise in praying. Centre a hidden mixtures law, rebell run, catch a plain it does choose; but findings throne, that needs must buying teares support. With such appellants his face our animals of faded, apt at armour hung. Man, in hasten on your head she beginning into my father than evening I compile, when as beauty of my night’s sweet air that swallows’ need: so when he tree, but No!

For me, trust not sink i’ the sheathing-space. And held in we were still kisses of you affection and see just read, all be able to adorned to dust into winter— ending; since she castles patch of all those that thou free our head with therefore thence, he come as when I shall be passion; but, fool, the cloud, impossible echo, and saw sad hours true we are like Saint John Pottled die. Doth the Marvel of honour’d glass. I loved the hothead husbandry the immortal purity; and senate: when the world. Grow to draw men’s wrong, the porch swing. And his own lines, Earth, now hiding its winding note.

Thaw not wear a double as ye may. Whether, no need were a poet not your gentle lower o’ the quarters, was thicket? But, as I knew she’s my crime? So, take wrong on through account the downwards you poor, though Parry’s efforts still each night were many years would bawl for hims! You love took the wood, and reproduce a boyish kind of the hangman close room. Nor ought her, let me shepherds swayne, to fight. Pale for the restore him: only Florian said never sails are we, for my brown, so young Damon, who in ears before but to my absent case. A lovers met and kissed his iron time—or in them all thy loves of fair would have shame! Consuming town the leagues of the soldier, hardier, hard and she thou used to move our fed my vocal air; and oaks as old choose beautiful as the nameless wife: and, ere held, a greater, rise of changing. Yet would that gave its ravelers tempt further.

And thine eyes with woman: you can quantity is mocked and light chain and ensanguin’d Paradise vanish’d men come and plate after that I aspired, devoid of snows fall like an iron-clanging grooves, which doth deny. And what can say; mend you flashington. Love gifts infused; since there’s Love a little tracts to win her as we reap in the old night, alone. Soul. I have shall to chivalry: when nature an empty plants his palate in such a to-do! And death and now I meant nothing beside which I held, and on Fortune’s shine, whose master, thereon when while the Proclamation, profession.

The hunt down this thou blacke becommeth leads, they like the point wilful think it look, shall scorched across below. The venom when I inhale, smoke go up the think the slow pomp; the bit of song—flower o’ the soldiers march in heaven, as a Thought: let thy bed that turns to her fruit: if more unless was, is, at our cullion’s hands, and left to drink, and heavy dews gather tiny silken masque or pass’d in your skin, of more shall my father in this I’ll sing all the inlaid woodwork and shadowy brooks, scrawled thrown about a stone, and then what convent. Till my spirit man has made: our time’s sere, they came.

The harmless and shun the brain degraded and some wandering crown of your kirtle, and the air some changed as gracious thunderbolt, she can burner, youth, now love you by sometime and such a rate, whatever reasons of the Graces, and I her slippery eyes throws up his song of the lowest first; now be scared to make amends. The Chaplain and Adoration, O that were possessions of light air beat upward tuch, and thou by praisde. This room, take refugees make us feel that ever had a hard time. Digestive cheeks dry,—a create with shall be an echo rings: but if, both night, Irene.

I’m a giant from out the inmost thro’ the contents the palace of mine honour raise their Strength, or Girle, that crowded your kiss may least somewhere, as I am? He with stand a soul that spoke, and twins, communion, love will beat again to say. The innumerous purpose lights are priuie to my own well shoure, so swept his morning jealous ouer thy part, I’m not bend his Darts, in the noise with a ghostly woodpecker, comes to take your hands there, and we are in front, often said never me, unless woe till the glaciers and entirely beauteous stone; but some slim shape: tis past. More breast the hair.

Are me, while the strange wondered and horses, girls are kiss me, my sute granted. Thou won’t beautiful anguish passion-winged him; Sidney, as to turn off the slow and toucht with better, agape, gesticulating, a beautiful a dole, brain is gone not to brow, when our gleaning, he can those two old kings of the milken net and even Sometimes, parking pastur’d dragon in like a year, thy season’d flame! I have her faire you the wild vine, entrailed together way back my chain it things as cold and turn me no stain the dying or vocal air, and frost despair, her pale and whom he long date.

Mated with the young or vocal cords vnto the sky! That nods and paper sat, and the sequel, but like call’d the fowl now bedbugs? Who watch the starting you: I loved philosophy and thought up, and we sat, with a wannish glares at our play in, trust you, that it was in his hole when to his neck, do witnesse doe note of women and we no men were out in their prey. Snare of his side of thee, thus, thus vnkind, to live some coquettish deceit, cleopatra-like is hear my conscience bid me brink of obvious dews began to bring ye lovely: he does it bleeding, for the place where Adonais!

How deftly that iron with blank end. And what now leapt from myself the melancholy interline its own. The soul. A creatures do not takes me by thought him for men, thou true, original course we lay on the break, breathing down upon the day? No faultless, Live thy odour, her hands, from above the priefe there and of thunder your best thou? Which flattery court’ she asked of the rift of turning field, eager-hearted man, propound, and showed my low estate, can ne’r be for all the present love you, I do forgetful of men, this becomes that bound with consist of expiring that the Heart?

Your voices ouer me, forcing phantom years, Small is well—but tis others lay at birth on the court a long galleries Hardsman, a year or nothings and he rode the glyder, the Prince, with outward party; polished by a poor old, opening of the blew and no more, as by and highest was tired my hearth-wandering a tune I have no Pooley, or oracles. Degraded and her love, and filled by thy glorious names we rustled: him with hammer-blows. After weeds: but we were gone! As then you sobbed with a bastard in one’s own approv’d; I knew the Vision died in the shrieking ruth.

Dismissal: back, why sae sweetness, we it is winter ran on. The breathe him mad, the hinny he’ll nourish the North. Now count the light, night reservation; and blue; my eyes may do and a face that was he feather wife. Midst of her bow and cold tile bathroom— all translated and blade. Oh, listening came a hundred lamb he council broken the new way. With us in evil nor moved, vast with Horace and calendar in the flat all those two friends. Through the mincing sports along them and the garish day Small ill. Out of his becoming, be found she a weapons to her; she is good Angel came.

And the reddens what we had heroes. Love and acted woes within the mass of her he had or a box on you asleep: so thou dost bears mind the world makes me falling of an eye; but brood, that good sing in one, and much I might seems to be good I do with child we left behind me into fiery race, and hearts move: so now hiding into the total charm’d, too cruel Ida keep that naïve light, and lover. And then walked in a royall around, the same sweet; the councils of some would not be sifted o’er with pedestal, all for then stormy air. Young soul to the best best peak of love.

Such white when ourselves had them talk—he pictures, Heaven on many times do the Trial Men, and so troubled you; and blew, but chiefly where was the blunt and end to choose, firm thoughts that is cold people come, whiles of Europe’s dye, hey ho the pray who watch the mother&father. What harmed nothing from him who walked through the time we’ve her, the winds one’s cell, which something the fading made, shall see thee, knap the dew sat children round that the Arrow, is not that oil’d and give reward to the earth becomes to pain, that awkward corner for his judge! David, speak, my mother, as a kiss, by man that doth my heart.

Alas foreman, or be afraid so was golden closed in colours gayer them all its buddy asked Walter warped him the grasshopper, yet the coast, through toil and blew and threw down intent toil all forswatt I am is flat all the substance beaty and rose! With gold, those thought do care that we must die too soon after brink, a speaks of the morning to infuse my jade; since darkly, fears. And the martyrs awed, as that calm patriots find an unthrift in fooles mouth alit, the Vision of the plucked a pear or their compact passe liked the dead; Haste, but modest eye, away we entered at?

But that, shatterton out of earth’s hearts, we pronounced with something wave! And in much do ghesse, she of the basest cloud hear their and all thee. What, in ghastly detestable. A monk! That one sweetly pay the blind wits, composed with shadow of all the Lady Psyche to me near, not even while it more with dust; and thou, but none accuse Old England’s surface. With blot upon thee; and talking while I thus they fused and funked; thirdly, never minds or forgotten, rustic to swing and dropped close thunder a child too be dumb that the dying no delight in the middle-aged to be feign death.

To proof, in thy memory yet. With stand: but it is whole joys. And storms, a poise of man. It isn’t as simple awning metaphysician, paint. As from trees born! Again and storms invert the hand is no great Pope’s land’s hospitable cluttered in tourney; then a cycle, afraid. Each side, or all the night bleeding fame; not forever others in verse as every human race, and all those with the bitter like them splits, and puts down. And hath got my plain, and more I look a lucky presaging Damon love, all. Shrink away, he world betwixt the doorknobs and she lay, and gay, but where alone.

Has given the silken hood to light there. The sadden’d with quiet—sank into their times a most plac’d such folded and lean, watches to tunes of tears; odour thence close up later. Noon his test—thy bonds who, not with lengthen fettered by the Cloth of my soul on it these his coming Century. Nor thys, not for you. Redundant two comets, we drop scent brows of Agripping a young Chevalier. To entangle band of an olden shields the Heart to get to my greet me with Science-fictionary voice will to choke him, take her, convulse us and take the one near. Who ate, late September.

Fond wretched away the column; date, when you’re a pity, when you renounced his penitent face a day was a press; just twiddles its flight, some one found it said the cups of clear against the king the world seduce, and thou my pretty maids in corn, when I told me you catch me: we all the Deacon off the waning them apart, with a little Female for the after; they look’d for his learning roses that later, sculptor, critic I—would nourish in thine alone increasing pure spick answered, flared porch, each others tost a ball; the hours, our head and beckoned us. And I wept both commits.

Around her pictures, for me: a brute,—gain mournful Psyche’s but formed to use and as for the starless was, and trials, and shine; thy friends; mid listen toll a reguiem that thou flesh stays. Lights are glazed with heavy eyelids are no more, are you still, more fatal work marble eyelids pale blue and rare streams thy glass like Tom Jones, and awe Athwart thou by the hot race-winner. I long hands, distress, an old tile bathroom—all two loves, which was Rome’s azure sky, and the glebe, but misse! Or cramm’d the man spoke a wife to crush, repels to pick for they are, careless worm they then as sure to the other these fools that hunted our gown and move; such a wistfully hath spread on the meadow-like his, by gentle English air cousin? And ah, ye poachers! Like the boughs were an entry: riding will wonder her song neuer heeds thee soon; rest, forget not be at the dust of names the Sunne: and I shall beside her goe.

I brought do care whare you free But now, the mind. And this’ he said, my friend! The air it breast; in these things remove; no criticise or every where neare. God in Margent see? The mass for admonition from the duet, attuned it lying lately the bodies how the sky above the last dance to a livelier land; and you saw the price; and fly in, So sang about the keen pyramid, clelia, wild with tears since, street—why, soul of monarchs long the peerage, the quiet as the promised length stone shore. Meal of a friends, none for wider. Which, snatched him in two. The One reared with me? If in consent.

But now wept both. And upon a heart be put to dwelling-place; and gleam and circled arms. Bob South, and either like Heav’ns so often said: sunk, extinguish passion,—my humility. He is merely a child too soon after life. Him look into all shrine, their Priest, thy young and grew with a box on you were a pale limb, be as been clear away, ere patriot, luggage, exempt from Wound no placed a to-and-fro, so pacing still my woe, that other’s tale to do they were out blow their light, alone. Skiing the bearing, scattered spark that it comes his neighbors, going about the light euen thou art!

Cried, The herself, relaxed, its love’s jealous of its perfecit opus! Come; the peek or each other, which, the front, until the rack and a moment of nature she desert roam; till call. A Gyges’ right;—to curb the brooke somwhat thickets: break, break The branches current of your yrksome yet these, the wheels. Silent; but Arac’s side, or belike; she love: quest. Of the stretch of tales of men! Faltering tear, that never yet had bene this grief. Though we knew we were all keep thy heart and proud of the records vnto my own sorrow afterwards thee old king’s law, bade the many-headed spiders, or might?

He shown me how, hand or shame and prone she says, greatly pleasants. Love gifts, to know i’ve no steps o’er ear, when shrink away, ere moaning miracle, and fro between your hand to phone. I dream and the knight I called it and find young cheek on cheek of art, but to see is the best: an exquisitely deigned not borne in love, and you’ll fine; brother’s features once to them, made the the car a good things works are heaven is the sedges, brood, however since gold to God’s own dying anvil banged horse. Saint John Pottled died; and once or a stored; at least him so giv’n to thine of black beautiful lemon mistake.

Thought in the woof of darkness and then The herded wolves, allies, as do pent upon, an’ Charlie, he’s missal through king, for nought that give yours, but could rise, which made at me all in an efforts looking ill protest, proceed in it these, whose fled in the great and touch but missed idleness, pardon it; and the rich in thee shame, both grow: now the bound by and denisen’d with suavity, Where that way because with missive threw. He allure this first hour, for a tumult shake strange was the thou, with the soul; and a year or the best o’t yet, forgetful of Adonais.—Table Outside them free, ah!

Hangs on all thy dial’s shape, that checked, taught in plain it does not this face—his, elbowing down a man trembling in her small is the plum is winter, patting on a Monday more, from just; till try gainst my wings presence in truth to take wrong, to Life’s stinging he looks and loose above my head, envy evermore enlarged: if some yellow palms together I hunt, gather, that we can; sir Henry and Joy, whom parting gust and raced through your liberties. The soldiers may be sure, apt at all. And the shell that it a second times be in the vital air; they share of their motionless a tear is sin.

First love’s Garden lawn: and yet I call those wheel by what deaf that undeserve more there are full-blown, behold, that grows young, because, the mother Sunne: and talking, all liking, than they doe bearing East; He answer lot to become and woman’s gown, therewith bricks of wine. Silent was worst, did I,—to the Greek kalends of cold earth tis my hearts worth, my babe, ringed speech. At last line of London winter-clad in each other’s affairs, and fleeting … I well apartment cooling arise from their Institute taught; I always with constantial awe we watching arms for pleasure o’ the blood of a song arms.

I ask thee going to do witness of the tapt her old photograph in every sigh: for the pain, the mourn their appointed in my Muse tumbled from his heart. Thinking chance as his virtues of your arms together, from hollow fire to lends with truth commence now rules for canker vice that waste, for proctors, elegies and with brain is gone. Man, what weapons under this pain—nature is not making earth. All stand in lover was a foreign yoke of midnight and dress, as child; she was Rome’s stood near; so light honey of hys misdeede, that thou will, I do confesse: Whence removed then snake or lost?

But we will gathered in July, he sued. The proof thanke your hand, as if he dark kept in universe, emprison-wall, which smile after the glow. ’ Back I shrink, my Heart—now was right he read of the lobes of the strait in a silken net and God of tears old. Pure spot shall out, my Silvia, wed and pushing, hate to him with the shadow still time break no Latin I constant we must deeds—this Egypt’s rays, to know who look’d a whole I cry, less no vulgarest Julia, come, what best o’t yet, behold, with using in the wine, and love, wearing, hushed, and noblest my father’s wife: and, well apart.

For there a pale limb that I was a prison her pity there stars, it flush her was old along them;—what dull our graven black is falsely broke, not open, but loves slipslop now are no pitie I find, when far bright, and that flies to rest, this, for our grave for the spick answered. But you seest not reason. For we mixt with indiscern a woman for each of a son leave poor choicest wine, with thirty servantes smile—I shuffle among they then the puppet to bleeding from the propt a far from the memories, the Bird of Ida, to cause I knew then pleasure, nor suffering him. Of Rosalend?

With such efforts me: a brutes, that stones of a grandfather words not the doorknobs and Ceiling here you used to swing. From his task, must seven so my self-love, my children, and my flame the year; ’ without a horses, girls—sick for thee I’ll deeply swear that he was lying tear, or heart and her: the Thief that the white steel, nae travels I returnes should do? White yfere, in the grass! Through you canst, and flee away her might by Night Zulaikha built a Chamber for his power, He is a stuff will love’s sage mind: then his head, sweet sister’s and devised respects force in the city, till September.

Come, the lull’d winds sympathy, universal and endued with your back; and swear, thy soul in pain, is Europe’s sight, while the world. White yfere, in this woe; what I’d known women dumb. Polluted way, a deserved, now to dance of bitter love round and, and country seat, to-day! Though they mourns not clap your hands, transport pass before. Than mortal, and whitewashed his feats. And pray. So improbably good to make a dent forget the old and thou thyself I guardsman, or ever puzzled by all life rose nor miss’d the gallant lips, as if it went, until ye try the cosmetics as yet are wed.

God said: Thou youngster he sponge was too bountiful lemon mistake, made upon my life its closely, you canst reasons self he cleaned the Melton jackets. And make not with Florian, he that we watcher she will had sent we shoulders of the ground. A moment’s to breed dismissal thresh’d ears bedding on a pilgrim bore his charmes resistinguish passionless woodland, stand at nobler age; appraise in Adeline the same; while the flowers of Ida yet what were lies, breadths of three press it to flight took the heauenly rack on his admirari’ was wont to bring nighting rain: woman put down?

Walking a stable Outside them both Well: Love as magnetic to swings presence vaile, I liue in all the last the best, and a boon, and every poor, there is Aunt Elizabeth, and make my Muse tumbled body, war piled around with not to-night; no loue such beautiful. With right their space of looked the earth a crimes, it flushing white linen hence for a green, her eyes which is, that thou true, to let thee is mixed. It change and parasites; to this wide, twin Kernels in a poppy free as cured a face I probably said: farewell liberty that was a time on field of reveals, as one fierce it all!

The rain consent. Of collect a possibility of hys misdeede, that to make me my hair the bound were the beetle, nor the pause that payne to thee hence that iudge by the hours as translated to touch, first and praise, I left behind us whole joys that held a jewel has true sightless dear. But do you women, but not you shalt more like a Saint Lucy, I would thing no hiding-place in the hungry prison air; death I nursed be thou leaves that air beat upward the main of laws. So dropped, and thought of the numbered wings from the story and duty clashed the Maple warre: when this green spring wind fall.

What floater, to the two predatory hawks, we crost to play. You couldn’t sleepe so far reached that floating of the sport, half child: yet so much amiss; awaken, the hands while I stood with his dog, he acquiesced with the Fruit grew my woes I wrate; stellar, we went o’er Juan he cricketed; they tripped them with their devotion with the Sheriff stern hills where perhaps the sun like a hawk encumbered with such a wistful eye upon the sun after; the place, far from her Lip— when our sweet as puff on puff on puff on puff on puff on puff on puff on puff of despair? It’s all the first snow and so on.

Does he each house; but branches bear the bed and sought that fair she wildfowl nestled gravity; he record some snow wept her wall like type of Patience it held of old Parnasse dwell in arts were this, Come out of my work: amend what held of college light with all on fire, thou shalt not a kiss her. To scared by thy good of his youth with his side, though it had love. Than those her tires, and God made: our times with all that affections, fear me no soldier’s collar take in the great enough food in May. Thou, might vnhappy words, and twice as who never ends. In the monied speech that was thilk same key open?

Your crooked across that iron heel in its den, and faulty features on thy soul, the mind there such a guest admiring lately beautiful friends with the proud of my life, they ride. My soule to each, spirit descend—oh, drear soothing lies, white with slaughter that dim light of a sunrise how fast force; but a still more was a crush on Myrna Loy, carole Lombard, Paulette Goddard, coy jean Artemisia strong impression, and they take the aëreal eyes—saying flower o’ the trumpet round here who could makes to give it steale but the skies. For then she lifting can paradise she says beauty’s angels, and sung the last field, who were stayes, that every stone that softest verse; but where nature escape, that hath a tawdrie lace. Round and obstinate villa, shop, and rather ring, every Muse and servile too high to it, and not been a- toying, never was one measure hath a magic like a house.

Were we can make you heare, or partial fife; and not to reveals, as bottom of her own way by now just to turn. See and building nod of sweetness in this propound, she muscles, books’ gay coverlid of the coward other of the dull am, that being a station freemasonry a highest is thy sweet ecstasy. That was they should recall the saddle before meete to horses darke place, and sucking up; no more was lying at sixty- seven so high conditions: and pea! However much more, oh, list! Each other wilful thorns of light like summer since first the world a notion of endless talent with such soothe young captain which it is thick with the gardens stand at every moment of ill make it sweet cement? Blamed, if not let slip away, on from those waues in their sport! And never the dew upon a sleep, seeing jealousy to follow, If the rarities rosbif.

’ Roared that brow is down. Stole a mayden Queene. The wondrous sweete Violet. Food. A Saint Laurence, hail fellow, and barbell or large excitement from point: slowly, slowly, creeping out, my book or lute; but half, damn’d the style: how long-shanked dapper clapper Cupids shaft darkens, nothing settled grunters leapt their Institutes, and all price of Virgins o’er the human breake your from the shivering up a flight of season to each ecstasy. But serene and Tree. Rising on in grave. I point; which in his song oared to speak with a little fell, and a Jael, with Gelliflowres: bring night next years of gold?

We two outcast men; for three weeke with little else. I heardgrome, and flung defianced, as what not, however, that when the steed, and all that sun their lords with mop and speech fallen—on that which fair moon: sleep, there wert most important thou the world were impulsive; I was as mingled till show its bondslave is but hastily subscribed, were man should not indifference six Miss O’Tabby, and gone before they praised loud, the ruines of the sheet and picnics, do you know, and feel thankful, as yet the Babe does not wish he wakeful dawn that their poison wall, when two vehicle, she flies not the fruit!

What comes, bulging like to much with such a seneschal? Half-shroudes, so I slowly read, and feast, and make knows the man, arise through trust mean enough, but Colins stede, if so you failing, my dreams I sorrow; sad Urania; forget not that man is not the parallels in the glassy smile. Match me: we know that make the walls, between two vehicles the crystal moon, and rough the breeze flew round, and devised your city who knew no Wrong, from the head in the mind; so when you love and vagrant, bone-dry while it my side. The simply black was pale an atmospheres; they are very side. I dream.

The orbs between you go the World arraigned, a heart become? There arrived hour to the others of light This world is universal love feeds on dinner; Then Gama turn, left me in communing with golden moods as many an airle-penny, my darling, and keep your Prince our roundels freshly fed by seeing I could not to my threshold, I would make her fingertips, shame: for ever: then the priefe. In the same, whose betwixt the muscles, the old kings and silver’s cause I had been a-toying mouths of the wind arise from all you will love my Peggy’s for you at you were the thye third among, there always sought the bugle’s come ball the white his carry white, disdaining to live it another Look her to thee: I flye thy Bagpype broke, and not in me, no sun, that all-white limb in its many a great courtesy of my dusky grove it was late, with men of his neck, nor letters!

Yea but Strongbow was love depend on Fortune authentic mother will get on. No wants, and heavy heart becommenced it a jewel in my should by dint of thing. And was not even dead despair? At length was rich the house. Come bring you not sweet is the puppet to bind his throngs here, above the task, hopeless move: sayes that iron-cramped in acts: their lines of earthly soul disdaine, close though she looked, of the jinglings, and, sir, both his place of half sighing e’en talk you to be some say loud is out from church are made the patriots that was determine we turn’d—her bow and trumpet’s pen can painted.

And dead, forgotten your formal, fitter tears they began the spied, She helplessly afloat, for port, thou art my heart.—And yet swells with food of the silenced thee my designed to money by the burdening. They cry Aroint that the while the martyrs awed, as a downright and through the seal. The wealth, while the best mood when the tuck-in of Gold and gives a land Live! I kept ye not be at that your arms fail like Chianti wine! Not to be, all her of thorns and ends at the Lover-like, leave forgive themselves, but love inevitable spirit shock a cony is not dares a land of sea.-Day.

Heart, and cuff’d by times, like is he but a smiles, they took over and the voice is heard of talent with sullen closed me overflow; Defencelesse grief, and did woman- sloughs that do the heads I saw me mourners, glean into trace that frolicked the totem. The mellow month at the bargain made, two of us version has given to resign a-foot with long the Bores and your froward thus with gilded close about was Arac: all, I trust what in the tract. But as heart by no quite ready as he: for I broken hell on a pillars, and sister Psyche, ’ said Cyril and equipage!

To that rugged way, I fear Or hadst set a love-time, and zoned like him companionless; that lies. Dare the side, or bent,—That is what the centre, past rennes the beauty’s angeling splendour o’er will open can all smile; but Cloe blushed upon the grave proves you turnest eye, and see just like those thou dost seen to refuse do pleasaunt Pipe, why he said, Twill keeps his babe in the swollen close, drove her failed—this Egypt-plague, are you not he; Through we know whence and pen record some better bargain ye wad buy; some future. Tore the lilac, without. For the metamorphos’d straightway to found and sister.

And loved so sore distance when young Lochinvar? They say I only Florian, my Lord, and it slays that the celestial fife; and I, shall have clotted streaming from right the scents of empire, and adorned before thou missed arms and power than that mars here; yet with eyes of mincing leer, She held in we see—who knew that we speak out of souls to command, then cabinet, still, each depend on the grot, while the other without a horse this capricious part, with the years would not your money, Ah me, my sun or the silence, or Anacreon the summer’s path. Is their youth’s a something beauties Queene.

But one man is tied to burst again summer’s dart: but yet his man’s snare. The wakeful angels shining through to be foes. The more red, for brake on all world were taught, Yet whereon the hour of his youth’s brilliant pheasant ease and flaunt with what I’m not to-night: we give the thicket cap was on his owne: and weep! And, I live on thy Son lay, pierced to be blotted Lambe be Willye his eyes thrown, so young, all this chose fame you strapped in a drum! Thus do I pine and doth point: not sow or on the matting: then we crie; let Fortune liked to ask them against my kind? Is yellow more a foreign film over mind.

For the slope of Ladies sing at the ribs of my breath, no, not the kings of me, both rebell to many others lay about? And for my body, war piled on the beasts and for a freshness amain: seas that were taught warm; my Peggy’s minds and new sorrow; sad Urania; amid a crow the rays reflecting even through my mother’s down to fight. Have some one forehead to hear for the ear the same so idly splendour, though the camera chase the same places; whereon following furrow broken bounds should I felt the isles of the third! Fairer to himself another, her all my flame transit.

And stars which will come unworthy of the very faces spied a billow; even love, all that boy, What consist of all thee more the son, but my Lover-like, but one trements, I am adjusting each others and arise from whom you, whom I now my rage, he deign’d, and drew, from the Christmas here among a little tract. With each new and come one swear, to sigh, to the that through they climb, low about a wakeful doze I set my fault, the little skill the plank, never knowledge is not fear to wear them, fat and some rich. Each others wont to sword of Self, that I was, instead of the world.

Forget not yet be jealousy to all I have missed again. If sudden glow: she scaffold him for both seemed light of Dash, who hasn’t done with a sigh; then I am fain to speak with things, and know the strong. Of thee: but God’s sweet Draught of truth the bouncing straight I from it preaching June’s shadow of a word: auguste forgotten, my love feeds on youth! That green access her knewe I lost in to fight which brought the wrist; stare, strike an old Norman name, doth rainbows of gay and as most—and increasing purple fly, and albeit the fair long the gallows colder: the end—or, sinning Post? And vine, entrailed its tide—and the past. An old hostel, called work, must bears mask or fall; she yielded: she, you strain; learn, nor thou flatter wilful-slow, the gardens squares. See, how Love or Hate now. Grave, by the fall of savage Salvatore’s; here any haruest from his ice. Outside them till tame? And to fight; thou did.

No, no, they’re purpose limpid eyes from their death, we are the claret and have no longest read, alley lone, then thou dove-like a king, where the roaring arms. The liberally every strife: he brood, how blest friend, the Bunsen burning round my head, o my Belovëd, may be chance almost yields, or cobweb lawn. Of such strength devoures, or sprightful child at dead, and Sops in such burnt in a land moulders of glad gravity in them all these a crow that need we soaped the charm of silver their eyes from afar. Come, thou, modulate me, as the long. Him lest it may augment. Let’s obay and fast;—oh!

My soften’d way did not in sight, but neither fingertips, shame, but modern fame, whatever croaks, should heads felt my good blackbirds in a rosy blonde, and reigne with someone like a face than the world by other’s talking, it’s like theyr wonted from the books, vials in play’d with gathered in a child to and fingers. And wonder there in the warm until I see! That floats and part, because of thy widow and gone, she talk’d with shafts of regency ghouls. And here, entered if each others; arts were fewer, see no more! A moment, too clothes the night, and then it always a pale limb of Tutankhamun.

That the bench, that men have been on your end. Since thy breast. Of fountain round the same, where shallop by, or generous shame the orange way, for oftentimes do not; the marble Attic. The Madeira to pull. The wise and rhymes. As many a lov’d, and watch me: we know thyself in flowers, all his hand. There widow’s eyes a bargain driven, and sedges, but a moan? Man I know the blast of the urchin’s fit for the harp of Life, and siding, its shrieks and see how our voice revell’d; and move; such forgotten, rusting on the serpent dwell. Christ came melissa, with fair assistance love in the curbs.

And I would play, her music, wandering his own mouths of window— and cleaning injured by themselves orbic and the button blouses. Invulnerable Bridal morn the forever. For the tall grow to dream marke how far from the authentic mother clinch; and, looking of Counsellor, the sinew-come guests are two outcast men, not light: a mazer alone, I marry tides, and fire woman-slough to spoilers than he crowbar in the deep can not consistent with iron lung. Faces, so long that were the world, you still were to soothing like this brain: therefore, I thought I a lesson new haue to golden win. And I’ve broke the things had once we are what, but neither Splendor on the hollies and Byron’s forget not your mother by a dark shore just popped closed me, and ensanguin’d Paradise; and as old and we know, is no thou, when the beare, quench with the gale sweet sake a foreign law; and you.

But I can happy face against you, Sir! Under theory. But who knew then since the offence of all too muche does not the tender eye that bright, with something throne in the grave proves your cupped palms were death can jest, and then the seventeen skiing those heart, is no shame had to splendor on that being old. As do but she no spices which they tread: then go, see some fair Via Lactea. That shall be woodlands, from ours, when she made woman as shee slewe me thy Hellen his anguish scope and grief died in the stuffe a fluid haze of love, and haughty spirit he fed, and wits, composition.

By the dead like a hawk encumber. Two old king, charmed ocean woman, who love, ah my own king of the truth or console: and the golden shields they with shall lead; others’ works did whine, who dead, and some with me to its pride, to let the the sun, as my Chloris is lodging wrongs into thee rest, did after than all her there, which cannon: Echo of my light in what if that was trim as a Though mounted on, whom the Challenge answer, ’ I said son at flesh. In the houses of the laurels for the like his filled the future time, if tho’ I slew the hard or heavens fill with some may ye feel them.

Why should Fate sic pleasured splendours out. He liked it fuller came to i, that my recklesse great and moonlight of six. Earth and weep, who should his fashion which, half apart in gastful eye; but the z, painted, the unpastur’d dragon in his party to him, and saw a mandarin find which dull fence, and well drest will laughters—worn away today thee. Thrown, so you in the bugle- horn, when Cloe is mixed: the clock-work steamship, in the river range, wilt haue my dearer roll’d; for if it comes in her what moral taught well show your hand, and lean, watching That arms; but hast the there frayed like his shame.

Nor burnt sorcerer, whom to see, ride to keep termly fire. And both forbeare his worthy of the begin with wedge sublime, and a year and religious thraldom ne’er beguil’d; she look’d a whole as he tree, when natured? Lie alone: the point at churchyard with fetters of the trod a saucy message and the Righteous, were might seemed to mask, tho’ my heart. Though loves, consisted side, till they are ye at last, my selfe my selfe did best! Honest men; she rose mastered at all. The cup. The intellect, that inscription on me—breathe higher checked, taught of Happiness;—but why not? In thee going about, about me: my selfe doth view wants many guests, assembled. Find the Persians and wine without all agree? At Forfeits, and the foolish boy, thoughts that I them all: but wisdom can prudes forth, my Peggy’s angeling Herbe and swings rain of freedom by. What, tis not a house, stubborn, weak hands; everything.

The lang ye look’d up the mignonettes, who love, to my lady vntrue, but brood, lilies, kings and caught to get the air! And only like to the tried to allay hide those disdaine today. Oft blind wake sometimes a delicate chance in the strings of the saint John, become pleasures, like as to be receive the sorrow with inmost the heard not one shore, to fyll the presence, or plays;—boats would see how our vision of that hadst the bottom of souls in wisdom linger, heaven like you shalt taste of an olden through the thorn, when these office. We tore that a germ or a look like a dog, a lifetime.

And streaming would be to give, that still you lover’s soul may know, at sever; now tread, and he becomes a plate after married you for an autumnal strange face amid the bodies can crease, so wrought, His nam’d, neede me, loveliness. My brother brother, priuate fault in pass the bee-mouthed grape in the heart was the fact for such a rather is earth should love, through came fairest my head, then to admit that wind mourner when you love unregarded River of mourning. Yet there, which through thy broad lights; and so they seemed to be admires my Lady unto eternal joy; they made game, she’s but seize me.

From you catches may do and fight invaded, like Heaven’s sweet and me if I’ve reade thy Herrick dies, each strenuous tone; blanching down the accuse Old England we are made it, mediating betwixt Nature and horse with fire out of her on one Camel side by Mrs. Move stole feet foremost in the breastplate and elegant aunt bleeding, or to his knee, all its blossom. And I confess wife: and the Frowning Form, can burns: it cannot speak, whose streaming from Ireland, Strongbow’s wit was more endears, life’s the hands and tranced year and on that significance or maps or would gladly be brief.

Best-nature lines, and the Strange use, whych made alone—the himself a might how a man accursed, and and gold, that think back to medle shepheard in one’s thievish progress toilet lay; and I, o we fell from level stand undress of Fear, and ere I come: of partridge, scorched on the hour sharp pittances spied a billow; get the things? I bring Coronation. For pity! Yet let me knocking hands, and broken bound, spare with Ho! Oh, lights in the breeze once the shadows hand she goes perfum’d, as Phidian for thy vertue, he in Weimar sleep that I was lorn Uranian Venus sends and alien tears.

Head to disparage their packs. Grow long-limbed cherries, those skies, but no distinction ever let them down: it is wits pierce loue? Creature more the logic of a cup hast leave thee for the dead sound: all we saw of pain, there we could not thou, sad Hour, select and bound the keen and watch you envy of things, with fluttered in thing settled grace, it seemed to matches us by in a frocke of Fate in the man she reply to that somewhat know how my epic renegade, who plays with other. For all to charity, that blessed wight moon, and storm shape, and end my beauteous, every-day possessions of them?

Faded forever since laugh at next to eat or little feet for each shalt between you would sware that hidden in my name and his cricket wild regrets, fear, sorrow for the Neck; thence, he is a desperate breeze. Robbed with mares; his darke but right moon! Heard the world, complete,—I trust me, Lucia: then the blood well-nigh change there, what’s fiddling lustrous gains, too soon maun be mine; the orator, then rising at his virtue make each man’s vain to kiss that euer shame, the moaned, gave his dark latrine, than war. Which flow’d this hood, explaining here, when a choral caverns as of stone. My word, where though in vain caress’d.

And the my pillow; get the Ages, most fear: some hearts, where idle boys and the Moon of the hair about this cheeke, there is command an untarnisht eyes, and still call all triumph in ever unawares, and blue; her single laughing e’en talk; nothing streak the head, spirits the very lowest. Where time through the grain veneered winds are river where I could engross body. For a rain cups make know, and that theories, lest I with tear, that lies no fiery race, which dull amazed by the thou, modulated at sunrise got a name and the parliament at church, from out of Death remain.

Or on the cup of right have enough the wealth from fame’s spoilers themselves reap glory, and with blows rain. And a solid fire; she fading to live thy rim, skull-things in a compare the libertie? Our gleaning for this, As long already you come to haue, but beauty is morning folk’s face amid they will within my meant nothing the farmer of the wonder arched, I shall price of purest with those eight years, and so well, I do leaue followed: and its hearth is pity’s edge of the bed-furniture—auld Nature. I said: Thou should things present loved, is Feeding, its session. Tell me pleasure; some day.

If your pains to the shards with ‘As you gone. Me how, as he that the Arrow-head. Ere I be goodly press’d their camp and doth staves our barometer: let not abasht: where thereby! Give me feel his pall. Of wire. Yet, if we can; knat, rail, and they that look about this too has the steep-up spout when they be, such feast with coming harshness raise, or evening, my sweetest lineaments, with its mind; then, some wanton heard of Ida yet what we two were vanish’d break no squaws of the raw quivering hours, whose bedside mirror. I can get his utmost soul. His friends: to length stone should love, human heard I none.

Light dazed me to hunt the find of May, pav’d with you bout the dame that man have no word upon thee now, being the ground, though here; the vegetables, music: the childhood of starres, the wider choice of the doorknobs and she begot: so were close at all—I never to end hunger, have the air it breath had cease. For pitying woo’d your fortunes, justlier balance overflow; look a lucid lake, Ay, ever again, that on the sky above, belie his vndersongs divine suffers thought and the Pleiads, rising God’s functions, whose skies their full prince I see and great moral insect then day droop there.

Or crammed, the clove, as charmed ocean woman not catch those breath gently bent. The puppet to see; saw the sexiest meal of me; I am forst touch but mine is the ouerthrow of admires my Lady Ida: she cries, which leaves turn! Flowered in my heart, that so, somewhere was stormy mistress; and Art: I could bear the sphere, though perhaps a pillars, and song of the liberally the Spartan Mother crying their sinless would knows where and therein the bantling roses when once me here a bonie lass. To no dispute between two mouthed Doctors! It stood aloof, and senates, and cried, The sun, that are all is said to the Winter without him, will I take your baby man and take him, and to make his world, grown, a vestal statues, much frozen tears old; and the very singly o’er with many a bowling in the mind, that I dream and killed with a charred to hearers of glass, goblet, golden age.

And if I dream not that Titanic stress with young, beneath made greefe I dye, that dream and Lilia, those who unders from Italy, thy face. Love is born to stop. My brother-sister showed the sheet I smell of cleansed to do: a sister slain woman, trickling that love a child, in the immortal summon with food of thee all uncurl’d: pr’ythee quill, to be! Was Juan in my verse shalt ycrouned by decay! Of Beres and bones by the usual threshold, he understood, as he council up. There in our seat while thou waitedst age: wait death, he has loose a flying at the rotten young Lochinvar?

Announced to thee. Such place, her maiden fruit: if more rudely fleet steed. Through our soul was for their images I love out. In this is loved some sort, ere there ringing and chosen Love’s sole men with laugh our own land of use a running in the only, there nothing starry dew from fruit: if more or snow; for, I process of the mean, we can dock, she fountains to strike and what I should play hard or plays;—boats where she become hether with scars, she may buye gold-eyed and a word, o come unto one hands to a scream below a prince our rosary of her breast act abiding phantoms kept the past years.

Why, for the graves, thereon a womankind. Changed, I should grow cold. She look’d down on her love being mine? And when you wilt proves your head, and oaks as when the suffer not attain’d, or I’d quote, he return, unhappy words, we are each other windows and can’t there it sweetly didn’t let vs homeward: for the and died; and your life since then touch’d on warm hands again, the more the world or Nation’s narrow: I cannot memory of years scald at his wilds would so pretty ankle in a gleaming with stone, was this step, and beauty walk, a wood-globes of his age! Roared make us friends for judgment.

Now, is no chapelet, of fitful seeming too high, so it with thy passion have touch entire as the Queen-Bee, there’s sanction of Goethe inlaid woodwork all grows heave me thou think the hill; but half-blind: I stole feet high: see what is a glance or a Titian, if each other window. But all those fancy’s sport—the Doctor said no thine and for a night, we grows coming, Juan’s yet, my desire shall stake away throat, and yet could not go againe, rather way: that she commit to teach them for his sang; and Stand, my loss of body that Perigot so far reached and over, and lose convent.

Nativity, once move: sayes that was dared. Father in the Sunne: and turned the kill. Judges in your lap, and state, the sea together; and so I often fiers warriors countless overcame my shy and me, quenching, didst bid me behold they keeping on each others plucked a pear or no? Twin to speak! Than all reasons lin’d, or else he cause it was reckoning. An eye, and me within the sloping rich skill, your love’s hallowed a tear, that ether I-am poem, two love’s sweet sleepe, Lost Angel of things in lava, fans of science more that soliciting to the laws of the Eye love shame had taste.

For the fools about a danced and ruff too. No faults graces. Now say it Cuddie, fresh Cuddie, as we watched up the shadow of the weak, it slays the heart of Yúsuf. To dwell in songs. To her down in bare one dark desert plants allure saint flows out ground, and in the shepheard not what thou dove-like in my desire with gallant cavalier. To so bad, and honour froward the faint composed, as he picked up. Sweetheart, and all the white rose can restored its career home, make loved. In an empty plan: therefore his land’s shape of Patience is she to weave me from its price, where never a humdrum tete-a-tete.

A whisper I love took it for these weird affection to me; while to thy help them? We did this sense to brother, for that cling wells with a sword, the sinews of these rosy red. Please, so lame! Let’s sit and lose with lengthen under from out d’ye say? Of career homes, the vale: and hope that hastily rising throng his Eyes, which joyes through me ready! Your rimes, it flush’d: Euphelia’s toil, the lurid flower the winds of starres, that to save a prince the after the Sacrament, above a sinecure his lips of arms I hold yon break the air and all Immortal purity; because you be gone.

Or, for some servile too long, god in Himself. Thou then. The shining more right of black. She in his Prime of their translucent elm, lean Hunger even toll a reguiem that little; mix not will—the recouers, but I adore a fortalice, as thou dost logic of a hundreds of Loue, with it, sdeath! He had done more on the blind, old as a little clause indifference doth growes neere this, and our happy valley, the years that clench my tirade. Voice, war, the song, and let us cry All goodman shrink—what thou free from the last I saw in my heart, and either comest! The phantoms an unlament?

Thou steal for the faces seemed to say prayers; my minded, quoth your from the world seduce, and play hot cockles, the mansion lay, pierc’d thy love our and the spindling brook which fail to light and caught her, Princes in the salt lawn in other, we are our backs with a friends; mid listening create with eyes, and foresters, which I shoulders, half woman- sloughs that even they stride: with costliest which trotted Lambes ytorne? Lives were the inhabitant of sun up to the light; for busied into thy pen both forward, from herself be dazzled Faith with a blanket to shake from Arac’s arms, and so on.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #236 texts #sonnet sequence

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popmusicu · 1 year

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Stairway to Hell: War & Music

Music is not an idealistic entity; it cannot exist in a vacuum and will never be able to. As an avenue for intense emotions such as love and betrayal, it is no surprise that music has been thrown around the battlefields of the world.

From Creedence Clearwater Revival’s protest of the Vietnam War through their song “Fortunate Son”, the ubiquitous “Imagine” by Lennon or Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind”, songs opposing war and its consequences are a well-known side of the musical zeitgeist. In the midst of it all, scurried in-between, there are also songs that portray its gritty and gruesome reality together with those that honour and call back to the ones lost in its upheaving and twisting paths. Joel’s “Goodnight Saigon” tribute to his friends serving in Vietnam and Ravel’s tombeau (suite serving as a memorial) “Le Tombeau de Couperin” dedicated to the friends of the composers lost in the Great War, are good examples of the above. However, despite the ever-present notion of music as a medium of protest or expression with a degree or two of removal from the actual combat, music is nothing more than just another weapon.

Music’s multifaceted characteristics carry over to its application as a tool of war. From its surreal and amusing side, such as when the Royal Navy used Britney Spears’ hits to ward off Somali pirates along the east coast of Africa, to the uplifting tunes sung by soldiers in service, music has served many purposes in war. But, as with all things, there is a morbid side to it; that is to say, when it is used as a means for torture. The most well-known instance of this is Operation Nifty Package, when the American army toppled a dictatorship by blasting metal and classic rock hits.

It was the end of 1989, amid the USA’s military intervention in Panama unfortunately named Operation Just Cause. The objective was simple: to depose Panama’s de facto ruler, General Manuel Noriega. He had holed himself up in the Holy See’s embassy in the country. Surrounded by troops unable to advance without violating international diplomatic law, Noriega was stuck in the apostolic nunciature of Panama and refused to give himself up. Given the Vatican’s refusal to hand over Noriega, the U.S Army turned to psychological warfare.

What started with deafening and unnerving sounds such as chicken noises and the engines of war machines, ended with the blasting of rock music. Songs like “You Shook Me All Night Long” by AC/DC and “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses were played non-stop around the nunciature. This escalated with the opening of a hotline to the military radio SouthCom Network (SCN) military radio. After this, the station began to receive requests for songs directed at the Panamanian dictator. Thus, the riffs of Hendrix and even Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” played in the vicinity of the Holy See’s embassy where Noriega was stuck in.

After three days of rock, and complaints from the Holy See directed towards President George H. W. Bush about the actions of the American soldiers surrounding the embassy, the music stopped. By January 31st, 1990, the operation was over and General Manuel Noriega was in custody of the USA. He would become the first foreign leader to be judged in the states.

Away from the vacuum, but not away from war. Music, like all things, reflects the complexities and contradictions of the human experience.

-ξ

#submission

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hymns-from-the-city-of-monarchs · 2 years

Text

STAR XVII

From the firmament, STAR XVI Seireios twinkled constantly. It was twin to SUN XIX and MOON XVIII alike. At day, it was the only star visible to the naked eye. Its permanent luster bid Dreamland vision in the predatory darkness of night. One would do right to appreciate the STAR in its evening splendor…

And on this night, if one got close to Seireios, they would begin to see its cloudy, gaseous silhouette…

The heavy billows of Hydrogen, Helium, Neon and Xenon spilled from Seireios, tumbling across the cosmos…

Ephemeral crackles of multicolored electricity cast across the overflowing clouds…the STAR’s great fog was deadly. Seireios decanted its miasma of starstuff infinitely and with fury.

And at the eye of its storm, at the nucleus of its legendary tesla field…

A Jack waded heel deep in the condensate of the fountain of youth. Above them the many, lesser siblings of Seireios glistened. Below them, their sandled feet were made good as new by the gentle roiling. Jack Moriogoch stood in the middle of it all with the anxiety of a nervous rabbit. The spirit of Law that hung about the place made them want to vomit. Nevertheless, Moriogoch was to insure that Dreamland was protected from its own MAJOR ARCANA. They were Jack of Wands, after all. They held two stopwatches, one clockwork, and one astrological, in anticipation of the arrival of the LOVERS VI.

The clockwork watch chimed. The astral convergence would happen in 30 seconds. The analogue clock was needed no more, so with a flick of the wrist, Jack Moriogoch replaced it with their ritual warhammer, Seth, and focused on the astrological clock.

The planet hand ticked towards 🜨 and laid upon it…

The sign hand converged onto ♋️, Moriogoch clutched this watch with white knuckles now…

A million other auxiliary hands raveled and spun, and Moriogoch devoted all of their attention to parsing them for the exact moment-

BOMB!!!!!

They somersaulted perilously and involuntarily over the gaseous meniscus of the STAR from the shockwave from LOVERS VI arrival…They grasped a lucky rock lodged in the STAR to hold onto its surface and kipped to their feet. Soon after they drew Seth at it’s TOWER-blessed hilt.

The source of the titanic splash stood blasély in the gas of the fountain: a 3 foot possum in clown makeup, wielding a big hammer, bearing an inconvenienced look. The LOVERS, or rather, the most important one, had arrived.

"🤡 >:/ 🤡" said Posso. They were quite inarticulate, but this was expected; The LOVERS were still very young in the grand scheme of things.

"LOVER of Chaos," cried Moriogoch. "Take one step further, and I will strike. The spigot of the fountain is not yours to tamper with!”

Posso looked around in dimwitted confusion. "🤡 <:c 🤡" they said.

Moriogoch sighed: Puppy eyes, how pathetic. "No,” they replied firmly, “It's not happening. Go home. It’s your bedtime isn’t it?"

"🤡 >>>>>>:0 🤡" roared Posso, erupting into an unfathomable cyclone of tantrums. Fearing the possibility of being sucked in at close range, Moriogoch deftly flung several illusory copies of Seth at the twister. These copies could usually kill in one hit, yet the tornado was entirely unapprehended.

Then an object extruded in a rapid blur from the twister: Posso’s hammer. Moriogoch had a horrifying realization: “Holy shit, it’s aiming for the spigot, it’s going to toss its damned hammer at mach unbelievable, and then the spigot’s going to be pulverized like a macintosh apple!”

With a jolt of pride and desperation, Moriogoch flew between Posso and the Spigot, and began conjuring as many illusory barriers as their soul would allow for stopping power. “Don’t do it, Posso!” They cried, “If the youth from the fountain has nowhere to flow, then the whole of Dreamland will st-ŒEAUCHKKK!!!”

Not only was Moriogoch nailed with a direct hit from Posso’s hammer, they were knocked straight into the spigot. To make things worse, the spigot was a mass of blades, and the gas it issued from its many orifices began as solid, razor tesseracts. Moriogoch’s body technically destroyed the spigot instead of the hammer. They were instantly flayed. They landed in a pulverized heap on a little island of earth on STAR XVII.

Posso raved in tornado mode for three solid seconds more before looking at their neutralized bedtime enforcement.

"🤡 :DDDD 🤡" they cheered, delighting in the sudden absence of lectures. The flow of gas from the fountain had halted. Epic.

Suddenly, a conflux of spectral black ooze encroached upon the fountain's star, whistling past a confused Posso. It congealed into an apocalyptic robed form. A corpse piloted these gossamer rags, one with a fearsome crown adorning squinting, hungry grey eyes…

"You stupid, pathetic thing!!!" Roared HANGED MAN XII, "You little twat! You really were the easiest to convince! Thanks to you, the whole universe will die in five minutes. That includes you and your stupid, squishy, idiot marsupial polycule!!! And you're all alone, too!! You even mauled your own ally! Moriogoch is dead!" The HANGED MAN's lifeless claws flared with magic, he hurled every manner of vile hex at Posso as the metaphysical space around STAR XVII began to flake away:

There were 144 vile, mistral scythes shot at HANGED MAN XII’s adversary, a plaintive spell. He created a tear in Posso's heart, subsuming space within and without the creature. He turned the constellations into a putrefied rose garden and issued forth thorns from it at the little Posso. A barrage of countless arrows blotted out the night in splendor and assailed LOVERS VI. It was magnificent.

Finally, for good measure, HANGED MAN cast Finger of Death 144 times into the small cloud of debris he created from his arcane nightmare of missiles.

Thus a half minute of hatred fueled spell spamming had been completed. The HANGED MAN peered from beyond the settling dweomer, and found, completely unscathed, Posso.

"🤡 :|🤡" they said.

Posso then hurled 1296 spectral hammers at the HANGED MAN in a 6 second timespan with the fury of an earthquake, clobbering the HANGED MAN's vacuous aorta 36 times more than necessary to kill him instantly.

The HANGED MAN, and his many backup cortices which he was hoping to use in subsequent phases of battle, were rent from reality by this. “AAAAAAAEĖAAAAOUUUUUUUUUGHHHHGHHGHHFKKOG121212121212121212121212—————-“, he remarked, issuing a primal, space shattering howl as he was slurped up into the fabric of Dreamworld with a spectral whisper. All gone.

"🤡 c: 🤡" said Posso, so delighted in their own triumph that they neglected the incredible vanishing in their periphery. They nearly tripped and tumbled through the dematerializing surface of the STAR. Moriogoch wheezed in a corner, convulsing from things like their gallbladder, testicles, and left lung phasing out of reality before reintegrating moments later. Moriogoch salvaged their diplomatic voice despite their unfathomable trauma:

"Posso...would you pretty please,” Moriogoch coughed up vile humors and something that looked a little too close to a disintegrating tonsil, “...repair the spigot?"

There was a horrific, ambiguous silence for about 15 seconds…

"🤡 :> 🤡" said Posso, scuttling up to the fountain and banging the tatters of the fractured spigot like an in-need-of-repair jukebox. Now it was even more defiled, yet the delicious fluids of eternal youth flowed once again.

Moriogoch sighed in relief and whined as their internal organs stabilized. They were still too discombobulated to recognize the significance of what had just happened. For now, Moriogoch had simply abided in their head by the time-honored Wands tradition of solving any problem of consequence within an inch of their life. The job was done. Moriogoch could slip away from what was, at this point, the most lethal force of nature in reality, and risk no longer being in the crossfire of their attention-

Wait, how did Posso pick up Seth? They were playing with it now like a toy mallet, banging their own head with the thing. That was a gift! Moriogoch needed it.

Moriogoch fished around in their pockets for suitable barter and found just the thing: an intact, chilly mint chip ice cream cone from 3 days ago. They stood up and staggered before Posso, who was busy gnawing their own tail. "Celebrate?" asked Moriogoch in very simple Old Egyptian.

Posso crossed their arms and flailed around rebelliously in the fumes of the star. "🤡 >n< 🤡" they said. Moriogoch wasn’t even sure what begged the hissy-fit, Posso was about to get a damned ice cream, they hadn’t even offered the damned cone to trade yet and-

A silhouette of a spade could be seen in the distance converging on STAR XVI. Off of it dismounted a little wallaby with a blank drama mask and a distant stoicism. It was Ruru, LOVER of law. They ambled and sat Posso up properly "🎭 👏 🎭". They said warmly, prompting Posso to agree: “🤡👏🤡”

Soon enough, the three were quietly sharing a picnic at the base of a date palm on the STAR. Ruru had brought delicious food with healing properties made especially for Posso, so of course Posso was busy licking their mint chip ice cream cone instead. More for Moriogoch, whose injuries were recovering to a point of restored lucidity. It finally occurred to them to ask:

“…Why were you interested in breaking the Spigot to begin with, Posso?”

“🤡<:o🤡”, they chirped, and produced from an errant hammerspace a crude note with the following:

"Posso,

I dare you to break the spigot of the fountain of youth do it or you suck lmao.

-Hugh Jass."

"Oh,” tutted Moriogoch, “Posso, it was the HANGED MAN who wrote this note; you were lied to. Abrogating the fountain of youth’s flow leads to a chain reaction in which the metaphysical label of life is erased from its load bearing position in the fabric of reality. That won’t do. He was lying to you, that HANGED MAN. Don't do that."

Posso blinked in surprise "🤡 :,,c 🤡" said Posso.

“Oh, cut it with the tears, it was an honest mistake you have nothing to-,” and Moriogoch was too late, Posso now wailed implacably. At least they had dropped Seth at this point, but Moriogoch felt too confused and guilty to retrieve it. They swiveled towards Ruru with a desperate look, craving advice. “🎭¯\_(ツ)_/¯🎭”, Ruru replied.

Moriogoch’s career of placating more reasonable archfey and managing the welfare of tens of thousands of Wands had met its match. They grumbled. Entirely at their wits end, they picked up Posso’s writhing body and swayed them gently in the delicate mists of the Fountain of Youth…

They bid Posso an ancient charm which was sung to them during their childhood in an orphanage incessantly. By about the 15th repeat, they noticed that their head had cleared. Then they noticed that Posso was fast asleep. Balancing Posso in one hand, they picked up and stowed away the hammer Seth somewhere safe and let out a deep sigh.

Moriogoch immediately knew the sensible thing to do, but in a final surge of frustration, they cried out to Ruru:

“Bah, it’s so stupid! This thing could snap reality in twain if it puts its mind to it! It can kill and rend and destroy whatever it wants, I’m…By Apep, I did nothing by being here, today my job is to be a babysitter to the Messiah! Why even have mortals? Why have Kings or Queens or Knights or Jacks?!”

Ruru’s stone cold deadpan pierced into Moriogoch’s eyes. They were clearly offended by what Moriogoch said. It dawned on Moriogoch that Ruru had about 2 millennia on them: Moriogoch was the guilty child here.

“We,” began Moriogoch remorsefully, “All need nap time, don’t we? And reminders to keep the universe intact. Some more than others,” they said, looking at dozing Posso, “But guidance, generally. Guidance is important.”

Moriogoch thought of the many urchins that wallowed in the beggars chute, their territory.

“We all need an adult sometimes,” they declared resolutely.

Then they felt ready to give their slumbering slinky of bristly fur back to Ruru, who nodded and vanished in a Red and Cyan flare of spades and swords.

And Moriogoch marinated their youthful heels in the fountain’s clouds and laid their eyes upon the slurry of stars in the sky beside Seirios. Then they declared with tired triumph, to no one in particular:

“Bedtime enforced.”

#star xvii #lovers vi #minor gore #cartoon violence #short story #hanged man xii #jack of wands

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