#and what a god like that may think of proper human history

[agnerd-bot]

Fate Fanservant: Awilix, Forgotten Goddess of the Moon(Archer)

(Thanks to Erineas on Twitter for this fantastic commission!)

Ascension Stages:

First Stage: Dressed in a white shirt with silver, green and gold patterns, with red and white striped jeans. On her head is a black hat with a similar silver, green, and gold pattern, and over her shirt is a black poncho with repeating patterns of quetzals, jaguars, and eagles. Part of her white hair is pulled into a braid along the side of her head, and the rest is left to flow back freely. In her left hand is an atlatl, and in her right is a spear tipped with obsidian.

Second Stage: The poncho is replaced by a shorter quechquemitl, and a skirt and belt replaces the jeans. A crown of feathers sits atop her head, and a cloak of jaguar skin hangs over her back. Her shoulders, arms, and shins are covered with patterned armor, and part of her face is covered with a helmet that covers part of her eyes. The atlatl is replaced with a blowgun.

Final Stage: Her form has shifted from that of a human to a Nagual, in her case a were-jaguar with the spots resembling swirling galaxies. She retains both the cloak and the crown, but she eschews any weapons in favor of her teeth and claws. Her hair flows freely behind her, and her eyes glow a deep jade as a lunar eclipse hangs behind her.

Theme:

Story Theme: Bounty Hunter

Regular Battle Theme: The Megas - The Belmonts (Skulls) - 01 Cracked Skulls

Grand Battle Theme(Awilix-Yaxche): Madara Song - "Can't Go Back" | FabvL ft DizzyEight & Sinewave Fox [Naruto]

Grand Battle Theme(Awilix VS Kukulkan): 龍が如く極 - For Who's Sake

Traits:

Class: Archer

Alternate Class: Lancer, Caster, Avenger

True Name: Awilix

Source: Mayan Mythology(The Popol Vuh)

Region: Guatemala

Alignment: Lawful Good Attribute: Sky

Known as: Xbalanque, Auilix, Awilix-Yaxche, Goddess of Death, Queen of the Night Sky, Mayan Hero Twin, Goddess of Sickness, The Usurper Lostbelt King

Voice Actress: Mikako Kumatsu

Deck: QABBB

Parameters: Strength: B Endurance: A+ Agility: A++ Mana: B+ Luck: C NP: EX

Passive Skills:

Incarnation of the Sun and Moon A:

In legend, Awilix and her mortal incarnation Xbalanque were said to have embodied both the moon and the sun. As a goddess, Awilix was the queen of the night sky, with dominion over everything that happened underneath the cover of night. As a mortal, Xbalanque was given the name 'Hidden Jaguar Sun', and it is said that he and his brother Hunahpu became the sun and moon after their conquest of Xibalba.

After the death of her twin Tohil, Awilix became the living manifestation of both the moon and sun, controlling the path the celestial bodies take across the sky. Through Awilix, life begins and ends, and through Awilix, life prospers and collapses.

(FGO Effect:) -Increases own debuff resistance by 20%. -Increases party's debuff success rate by 8% while self is on the field.

Divinity of the Dead God A+:

After killing Ah Puch and the Twelve Lords of Xibalba, Awilix became the supreme goddess of death itself, holding complete dominion over the dead. Even a fellow Mesoamerican god of the dead, Xolotl, admitted that her power far surpassed his in this state, and the Lord of the Dead, Baron Samedi, noted that even as Grand Caster, his chances at winning a direct engagement were likely to end in Awilix's favor so long as she had the fame bonus in her home territory.

Indeed, so long as death exists as an idea, Awilix reigns supreme as the ruler of all that is dead.

(FGO Effect:) -Increases own damage by 280. -Increases damage against 'God of Death' enemies by 20% -Reduces damage taken by 'Undead' and 'Divine' enemies by 500.

Active Skills:

Pok-ta-Pok A+:

As well as having domain over sickness, death, and the moon, Awilix is the goddess of the Mesoamerican ballgame known as Pok-ta-Pok, or Pitz. Her human incarnation, Xbalanque, and his twin brother Hunahpu, were beloved by their town's people for their unmatched athleticism and talent at the game, with the sport even leading to them defeating the Twelve Lords of Xibalba in the end.

As a Servant, this physical prowess manifests as a near-perfect body befitting a divinity, an evolved form of the Natural Body skill. Awilix has a form that does not age, reflexes beyond mortal ken, and is immune to any curse, illness, or interference with said divinity. Such is the natural state of one of the Tohil.

Naturally, Awilix is proud of her physical form, and will take any time she can to brag about both it and her talent at Pok-ta-Pok.

(FGO Effect:) -Increases own Buster performance for 3 turns. -Reduces own damage taken for 5 attacks, 5 turns. -Grants self Debuff Immunity for 3 times, 5 turns. -Increases own buff removal resistance for 3 times, 5 turns.

Jaguar Sun Xibalba EX:

A divine force equal to that of Zeus's own Authority of Lightning. After consuming both Kukulkan and Ah Puch, Awilix gained complete authority over life and death itself, able to do the impossible and restructure the very foundation of the Mayan Lostbelt to her whim by raising Xibalba into the heavens as a mirror to the world of the living. Having Authority over the Sun, Moon, Stars, and Earth itself, Awilix has the ability to shape the very universe as she sees fit, overriding even the Authorities of her fellow gods Ixchel, Chaac, Huracan, and Jacawitz easily if she so chooses.

The main drawback to this immense level of power is that Awilix expends incredible amounts of energy when using her Authority, requiring blood sacrifices from the Mayan people in order to hold the Lostbelt together, effectively making Awilix the lynchpin that the Lostbelt needs to survive.

(FGO Effect:) -Reduce all enemies' NP Gauge by one. -Charges own NP Gauge. -Recovers own HP. -Increases own damage for 5 attacks, 5 turns.

You Shall Conquer All the Nations A+:

The Tohil were the three patron gods of the K'iche' empire of Qʼumarkaj, consisting of Tohil, god of the sun, Jacawitz, god of the mountains, and Awilix, goddess of the moon. Through the gods, the K'iche's were blessed with the gift of fire, and their kingdom expanded to great heights, and in return, the K'iche' offered sacrifices to the Tohil of flesh and blood.

But every empire is destined to fall, and even one blessed by the gods is no different. The K'iche' kingdom fell, from rebellion, from invasion, and from conversion. The great capital of Qʼumarkaj was razed to the ground, and its kings were burned alive as a message to the survivors. In their forms of stone statues, the Tohil could do nothing to stop as their very identities were erased from the scriptures by the Spanish, becoming a mere footnote in the history written by the Spanish.

It is for this reason that Awilix fights. To return the K'iche' people to an era of prosperity. To return the gods to their rightful place in the heavens. To return the world as it was once before.

To be worshipped as the supreme god of the Maya, unquestioned and unstoppable.

(FGO Effect:) -Inflict Skill Seal on all enemies for 2 turns. -Inflicts Poison with 500 damage for 5 turns to all enemies. -Inflicts Toxic status for 5 turns to them.

Noble Phantasms:

Noble Phantasm: Qʼumarkaj Impact - Vengeance Falls from the Stars Above Rank: EX Maximum Targets: — Range: —

Classification: Anti-World

A Noble Phantasm that is the origin of Yù Tù's own Noble Phantasm, A Dream Realized - A Rabbit Riding the Moon. In myth, alongside being the goddess of the Moon, Awilix was also the patron deity of the Mayan Ball Game Pitz. Much like how Ishtar's An Gal Tā Kigal Shē takes the very concept of Venus and fires it like a bullet, Awilix's Qʼumarkaj Impact has her take the moon and compact it into a simple ball that she can kick around with ease. Once she finds her target, she launches her attack with incomprehensible speed and power. Even the Storm Border, with its incredible magical defenses, had its body torn through as if it was nothing.

It is the vengeance of a goddess who saw her nation burned to the ground, her temples ransacked, and her people slaughtered. The rage of a deity who seeks to undo her past mistakes, and rewrite the world as she sees fit, no matter what seeks to stand in her way.

(FGO Effect:) -Increases Buster Card Effectiveness(Activates first). -Remove Buffs from All Enemies (Activates first). -Deal Heavy Damage to All Enemies.

Noble Phantasm: Nagual K'ab'awil - Divine Path of the Animal Rank: EX Maximum Targets: 1 Range: —

Classification: Anti-Unit(Self)

In Mesoamerican religion, the Nagual is a being that can shift forms from a humanoid state into that of their tonal animal. While many feared the destructive nature of the Nagual, there are some that used their powers for good. Awilix in particular had two animal totems, the eagle and the jaguar, as well as having a certain Lunar Rabbit as her servant.

As a Nagual, Awilix can morph her body into a more animalistic state, her muscles growing larger, her skin being covered in jaguar's pelt, her back sprouting eagle's wings, and her personality shifting to a more monstrous mindset. While Awilix is infinitely more ruthless and sadistic in this state, she is far from an 'evil' god. Rather, she becomes a 'monstrous' god, an animal who will not relent until its territory is free of any who wish its partners harm.

In this state, she was even able to fight the immortal Camazotz to a standstill, while her mortal incarnation Xbalanque could only hope to hide from his wrath. After a battle that Yù Tù claims to have shook all creation, she was eventually able to overcome the bat god, managing to kill him permanently within Xibalba.

Noble Phantasm: Junalik Yaxche - The Roots of All That Live Rank: A++ Maximum Targets: ??? Range: ???

Classification: Anti-Lostbelt(Self)

The famous tree of life of Mayan mythology, composed of four separate trees planted in all four corners of the World, all surrounding a massive ceiba tree whose roots dug all the way into the deepest pits of Xibalba, and whose branches reached into all thirteen layers of heaven, akin to the Yggdrasil tree of Norse Mythology. It is said that the gods themselves descended into the realm of humanity by climbing down this sacred tree. Much like Sun Wukong's Ruyi Jingu Bang and The Lion King's Rhongomyniad, it is a divine pillar that holds up one of the Textures of the world, in this case being the sacred tree that connects humanity to the afterlife.

As one of the children of the maize god and calabash tree Hun Hunahpu, and as a mortal who climbed into the heavens themselves and became the moon, Lostbelt King Awilix has attained some form of Authority over the Yaxche tree. She does not wield it as a weapon like Sun Wukong or Goddess Rhongomyniad, but rather draws directly from its power by consuming its fruits, and further enhanced the World Tree’s abilities by feeding it her Lostbelt's own Fantasy Tree, Andromeda. In times of desperation, Awilix can fully consume Yaxche in its entirety and in turn become the pillar that binds life, death, and the heavens. As Awilix-Yaxche, she becomes a divinity beyond divinity itself, ascending past the idea of a Divine Spirit and becoming a true god of the cosmos capable of shaping the universe as she pleases, capable of shattering the barrier between life and death itself and resurrecting her fellow gods to their fullest potentials.

"I am no mere goddess of the moon as you thought... I am Awilix, Queen of the Night Sky and Lord of the Dead. All things that die pass through me... And all things that return pass through me."

Noble Phantasm: Xquic Sol Muerto - Humiliation of Seven Macaw Rank: A Maximum Targets: 3 Range: 150,000,000 km

Classification: Anti-Army

A combination attack Noble Phantasm that can only be accessed if Awilix is summoned alongside her twin, Tohil. As the mortal Hero Twins of Mayan legend, Xbalanque and Hunahpu, the pair accomplished many legendary feats in their time, one of the most famous being the defeat of Seven Macaw, a bird demon who proclaimed himself to be both the sun and moon.. To this end, they used both their physical strength and incredible wits, ultimately ending in them robbing the monstrous bird of all his glittering teeth and shining gemstones, and proving definitively who the true embodiments of the sun and moon are.

This legend is inscribed in this tag-team Noble Phantasm, a brutal wrestling move taken straight out of Quetzalcoatl's book. Kukulkan charges in at lightspeed, knocking the opponent's legs from out under their feet, while Awilix charges in with a clothesline strong enough to decapitate any unfortunate Servant caught between the twins. Notably, it has a pronounced effect on gods of the sun and moon, and other similar divinities, as this technique reinforces the Authority of Tohil and Awilix as the ‘true’ sun and moon.

Voice Lines:

Summoned: So this is Chaldea... The organization dedicating to 'fixing' Pan-Human History. What? Oh it's nothing. Regardless, bow before me and praise my name, mortal. I am Awilix, goddess of sickness, death, and the night, sovereign over the K'iche' Maya and incarnation of the sun and moon.

Summoned(Clear Lostbelt 7: Popol Vuh): Tch... To think that I'd still end up in a place like this. The Throne of Heroes either has a sick sense of humor, or this is its idea of 'community service'. Hnn? You want me to introduce myself? Fine, fine. It's a pain in the ass, but it can't be helped. Servant, Archer. Awilix-Yaxche, the Moon that hangs above the Land of the Eternal Spring. No matter the era, no matter the place, the night sky will bless my people.

Level Up 1: It may not be to my particular tastes, but I suppose this is a passable offering. Very well, I accept this for now.

Level Up 2: Hmph. Is that all you have? C'mon, if that's all you got, then let's get some training in at least.

Level Up 3: Huh. It kinda tickles. ...why are you looking at me like that, human?

Level Up 4 (Third Ascension): No... This isn't nearly as satisfying. Give me something fresh. I want to feel the blood run down my chin.

Level Up 5 (Third Ascension): I suppose it can't be helped... But come on, you can't toss in some meat at least?

1st Ascension: Ngh! *crack* Ahhhh... That's much more to my liking. Kehahahahaha! Well? Aren't you impressed, human? C'mon, praise me, worship me! You stand before the almighty chief god, the embodiment of physical perfection! C'mon, let's go find a fleet or an army to crush! I want to test out this new Ascension properly!

2nd Ascension: I have to say... It's nice to be like this for a while. It reminds me of my time spent messing around with Hunahpu when we were younger. Back then it was just the two of us against all the gods, demons, and whatever else the world wanted to throw at us. Ahhhh... Is this what the mortals call 'nostalgia'? ...tch, what a pain.

3rd Ascension: It appears that your offerings have given me the strength to embrace my true Nagual nature. Behold me in my true glory. I am Awilix-Yaxche, the Usurper Lostbelt King, the forgotten goddess who stole the kingdoms of life and death from the Feathered Serpent. I am the god of the oppressed, the forgotten, and the denied. I am the god of both living and dead, night and day. Let all conquerors look upon my face and weep for their impending end, and let them all wither away before my gaze.

4th Ascension: ...I know that the empire I knew is gone. The nations of living and dead has fallen, the eclipse passed both mere moments ago and yet eternities long gone. But... The remnants of the kingdom that raised me still remain. The K'iche' Maya that raised me and my siblings from childhood, and ascended us to the realm of gods. Even if I am not blessed with offerings of flesh and blood, for the Lostbelt that I had lost, and for the Mayan People that remain... I will stand proud, with their memories forever in my heart. That is what it means to be a god.

Fight Start 1: Now this is my element!

Fight Start 2: You wanna take on a god, do you? Fine by me, let’s play!

Fight Start 3: A new victim, huh?! Fine then, I hope you don’t mind if I play rough!

Fight Start 4(Third Ascension): I’ll stain my hands… With your blood…

Fight Start 5(Third Ascension): When you step onto the court against me… You’ll find your arms are too short to box with God.

Skill 1(Pok-ta-Pok): Think you can keep up with me?

Skill 2(Jaguar Sun Xibalba): Reach for the heavens all you like, I will still be beyond your grasp!

Skill 3(You Shall Conquer All the Nations): Come on, just try to topple me!

Skill 4: You cannot escape the eye of the Jaguar… Hm? No, I didn’t say anything.

Command Card Select 1: ¡Sho! ¡Sho!

Command Card Select 2: I’ll make a mark right between your eyes!

Command Card Select 3: This will be fun!

Command Card Select 1(Third Ascension): Tooth and claw!

Command Card Select 2(Third Ascension): Blood and dust!

Command Card Select 3(Third Ascension): Night and day!

Noble Phantasm Select 1: Let’s play ball!

Noble Phantasm Select 2: No matter where you run or hide… The moon sees everything!

Noble Phantasm Select 1(Third Ascension): Another sacrifice laid bare for me to feast upon!

Noble Phantasm Select 2(Third Ascension): You cannot… escape from death!

Attack 1: C’mon, c’mon!

Attack 2: Haaaaa!

Attack 3: Can you keep up with my footwork?!

Attack 4: Too easy!

Attack 5: SEIIIIIII!

Extra Attack 1: I’ll blow you away! JAGUAR KNUCKLE!

Extra Attack 2: You cannot evade me! JAGUAR KICK!

Attack 1(Third Ascension): GRAAAAAAH!

Attack 2(Third Ascension): I’ll tear out your teeth one by one!

Attack 3(Third Ascension): SEIIIAAAAHHH!

Attack 4(Third Ascension): Game over!

Attack 5(Third Ascension): RAAAAAAGGHHHH!

Extra Attack 1(Third Ascension): Attempting to defeat me is as foolish as trying to end nightfall itself!

Extra Attack 2(Third Ascension): Run as much as you want! The night sky covers everything!

Noble Phantasm 1:

Higher, higher, higher...

That's what humanity wants, isn't it?

To climb as high as they can, up to even the moon and stars, where the gods reign?

Well, there's one difference that divides the human race from the gods...

Humanity... Is destined to FALL DOWN!

Now let me bring you all back to Earth!

Q'umarkaj Impact!

Noble Phantasm 2:

This is it! The end of your journey!

No matter what you try, no matter where you hide, I'll bury you all!

You're in my world now!

And under the night sky... I'll always win!

Q'umarkaj... IMPACT!

Noble Phantasm 3(Narrated by Taiga):

Ladies and gentlemen, I can't believe my eyes!

Awilix has ascended to the heavenly pitch!

She's setting up for another play...

It's a header headed straight for the enemy team!

Q'umarkaj Impact!!!

I feel sorry for those poor goalies…

Noble Phantasm 4(Narrated by Taiga):

Once again, the Goddess of Pok-ta-Pok takes the pitch!

Look at that phenomenal footwork!

Oh, what's this?! She's setting herself up for a press towards the goal!

Could it be...?! Yes, it's her signature strike!

Q'UMARKAJ IMPACT!!!

SHE SHOOTS, SHE SCORES, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

Noble Phantasm 1(Third Ascension):

If my kingdoms are destined to fall then let me spit in the face of destiny!

If my fate is to be forgotten by mankind, then let me defy fate itself!

Nothing, god or man, will stand in the way of my future!

Nagual K'ab'awil!

Noble Phantasm 2(Third Ascension):

I am the Stone Beast God of the Mayan Kingdoms.

I am the Hidden Jaguar Sun that conquered Xibalba.

I am Death! And you will not escape my wrath!

Bare thy neck, and become the blood that feeds my altar!

Nagual K’a’awil!

Noble Phantasm 3(Third Ascension):

Behold, the last sight you will ever see…

HRRRRAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!

I’LL TEAR YOU TO PIECES, AND EAT YOUR HEART!

NAGUAL K’AB’AWIL!

Damage from Noble Phantasm: ¡Puta la wea, perra, te voy a matar!

Regular Damage: ¡Sho!

Damage from Noble Phantasm(Third Ascension): GHHHHHHH!

Regular Damage(Third Ascension): You little-!

Defeated 1: Ngh…! No! No, I refuse to die here!

Defeated 2: I won’t… stop here…!

Defeated 1(Third Ascension): No… No, not again! It can’t happen like this again!

Defeated 2(Third Ascension): I can… go further than this…!

Victory 1: Haha! As expected, I won that game for us handily.

Victory 2: HAHAHAHAHA! Now that’s what I’m talking about! Come on, let’s move onto the next round!

Victory 1(Third Ascension): Thank you for the offering. I haven’t had that much fun in a while!

Victory 2(Third Ascension): No one can escape the gaze of the night sky… But you should’ve tried harder than that.

Bond Level 1: I am Awilix, one of the three gods created to serve the K'iche' Maya people. To be summoned as a Servant of Proper Human History is… unexpected for me, to say the least. Though I suppose it makes sense when you think about it… Either way, send me to crush your enemies and I will do so without hesitation.

Bond Level 2: Chaldea… An organization dedicated to 'fixing' humanity's past and ensuring that it all continues on as planned. ...hm? 'Is everything alright?' Hmph. What do you care? I am your Servant, you are the Master, isn't that right? What use does Humanity's Last Master have for conversing with their Servants?

Bond Level 3: Master, I can't help but ask… How does The World determine the 'correct' course of action for history to take? What makes this history 'Proper' Human History? Is it 'Proper' for the Spanish Empire to invade the Americas? Is it 'Proper' that they claimed an entire nation for themselves when the Mayan Empire was thriving and happy there? Is it 'Proper' for generations of people to be enslaved, slaughtered, and forced to abandon their history?! WELL?! ANSWER ME-! …I'm sorry. I just… … I'm sorry.

Bond Level 4: I suppose I owe you an explanation for my last outburst. I was a god born for one purpose: to watch over and guide the Mayan people, to be a god that served man as much as man served the gods. And then… Then I lost everything. To say that what happened is the 'right' course of action. To say that was the 'truth' of humanity's destiny. …I cannot accept that. I want to believe that there is a chance to make a future for the people I love. I want… I want them to love me again.

Bond Level 5: I will never accept what has happened in the past. The wrongs that have been done to me and my people. The losses of history, culture, and beliefs over time. I will never forgive the world for what it has done. …but I also understand that you're just like me in that sense. Another person fighting to preserve and save entire generations from being forgotten and destroyed. To that end, I suppose I can enjoy our time spent together.

Bond Level 5(Clear Interlude “From Xibalba With Love”): …did you know that you were not the first Master to summon me? There was another. A young girl who called on me to fight in a Holy Grail War. She was strong, if naive. Open, if not talkative. Kind, if not foolish. I enjoyed her company. I betrayed her in a desperate bid to regain my status as a true god. …like everything I've done in my life, it was all for nothing. I failed to claim my godhood, I failed to protect my Master, and I failed to be a hero. It's funny... I never had a second thought of the lives I’ve taken before, and yet, I can't help but think of her. I wonder what you'd think of me now, Mercedes… 

Dialogue 1: So many people wander these halls… Gods, men, friends, enemies, conquerors and conquered alike. I must wonder how Chaldea hasn’t become a smoldering pile of ash at this point…

Dialogue 2: I have to say, despite my legend involving outwitting the foes Tohil and I faced, I was never a quick thinker when it came to the arts… *sigh* A fact that my half-brothers never let me forget. It’s not my fault I never needed to learn that stuff!

Dialogue 3: Hey, you! Interested in a game? I’m gonna commandeer the simulator to see if we can set up a court. Go grab a handful of Servants, and we can let off some steam.

Dialogue 4(Bond Level 5): I know what it is like to live through the loss of your people… To lose everything you knew and love to a cruel and unjust invader. I won’t let you live through the same pain I did, Master. If I cannot secure the future for my people, then I can at least help you save your own.

Dialogue 5 (If you have Kukulkan): Tohil… No, you're not the same sun deity I grew up with, that much is obvious. Still... I can't help but feel the same comfort I had having my twin standing beside me. From one Lostbelt King to another, Kukulkan, I hope we can get along.

Dialogue 6 (If you have Baron Samedi): Him. Everywhere I go, that accursed Loa seems to follow me, mocking my every movement and every action! Fine then, if he seeks to poke at the Jaguar... Then I hope the fool is prepared to cut himself on my claws.

Dialogue 7 (If you have Yù Tù): Oh? Lamat is here as well? Yes, I remember my time with her fondly. After she broke into my house and accidentally made herself immortal, we spent quite a long time together. I suppose you could go so far and call her my daughter. …how time's gone by since then. Another thing this Proper Human History has taken away from me.

Dialogue 8 (If you have Xolotl): Oh yes, the twin brother of Quetzalcoatl. I suppose in some sense he's my counterpart from Aztec mythology. Then again, maybe it's Tezcatlipoca that fills that role. Or… Coyolxāuhqui? Daaagh! There's too many gods to keep track of! Isn't this Hun Batz and Hun-Chowen's territory?!

Dialogue 9 (If you have Hernán Cortés): So, that bastard from the Grail War in Jerusalem is here too? Last time we met, I was too weak to properly show my true strength against the self-proclaimed 'God Incarnate'. Now… Hehahahahhaha… Now, Master, I'd say it's time for some payback. I'll enjoy crushing his skull with my bare hands.

Dialogue 10 (If you have Jaguar Warrior): Taiga Fujimura… So this is my champion from Proper Human History. I must say, that costume of yours makes you look rather dashing.

Dialogue 11 (If you have Zipacna): Zipacna, have you come to challenge me? Heh, I understand, you weren't satisfied the way our last encounter ended. Fine then. But don't blame me after I cook you on a spit! C'mon, I'll let you reunite with your father and brother!

Dialogue 12 (If you have Fenrir Riding Hood): Oh? The little wolf seems to be looking my way. I suppose it makes sense, given I am the incarnate sun and moon. But I warn you, little girl… You may be a Beast of Humanity, but I alone am the apex predator here. So if you don’t wish to be eaten alive again, I suggest you run off.

Dialogue 13 (If you have Qin Shi Huang or Romulus=Quirinus): The Founding God-Kings, eh? Divinities that forged their own nations, reigning over them as gods. I feel like we could have a lot to talk about. …nah, it's probably for the best that I avoid them. I have a feeling that a conversation between us might get ugly.

Dialogue 14 (If you have any “Death” or “Underworld” related Servants): So, there are other divinities with Authority over death in Chaldea, are there? Hah! Maybe they'll be more of a challenge than those dullards in Xibalba. Or perhaps not.

Dialogue 15 (If you have Guan Yu): So humanity can make their own gods now? How fitting that a butcher of men would be the kind of person they'd deify. Then again, I wouldn't be opposed to seeing how well a god born of humanity stands up to the real deal. Haha! I've made up my mind, Guan Yu! Fight me, and let's see which god is truly worthy of worship!

Likes: There’s nothing better than a good game of pok-ta-pok to get the blood pumping, y’know? Though any type of sport is a good way to get everyone in a good mood. Well, unless you’re my half-brothers, but those furry bastards couldn’t know fun if it kicked them in the tail.

Dislikes: The idea of a ‘Proper’ Human History sickens me… Who decides that a culture is right? What force of the world decides the correct course of action for humanity? If I had the chance to choose… Ngh, nevermind, I’m going to go get some air.

About the Holy Grail: The Grail can grant me any wish I desire. I can reshape the world to befit my history. I could become a god ruling over humanity… Yes, if I had the chance, I would right the wrongs of the World and make a new empire of the Maya. An empire where the gods watch over mankind.

About the Holy Grail(Clear Interlude “From Xibalba With Love”): The Grail can grant me any wish I desire. I can reshape the world to befit my history, I could become a god ruling over humanity… And despite this, the only thing that comes to mind right now is that time in Jerusalem. …but no wish could ever grant me absolution for betraying her.

During an Event: It seems like a festival is going on! In that case, why don’t we join in? Even gods need to enjoy themselves from time to time.Birthday: It’s your birthday is it? Ahhhh, now I see, if that’s the case, let us be off! I know the other Servants seek to celebrate with you as well, but trust me when I say that I will make today an extraordinary celebration that no one, man or god, could ever hope to pull off!

Profile:

Default:

Awilix, one of the three Tohil in Mayan mythology, and the goddess over sickness, death, and the night. One of the three founding gods of the K'iche' Kingdom in Guatemala, one of the most powerful of the Mayan Empires, Awilix reigns supreme in the Guatemalan Lostbelt as the arbiter of both life and death, a divinity both the living and dead serve.

She is not a 'True' Lostbelt King like Ivan the Terrible or Zeus. Rather, she is a Servant summoned from Proper Human History to destroy the Lostbelt and defeat her twin, Kukulkan. However, she rebelled against the world's original intent, and instead assassinated Kukulkan to take the Lostbelt for herself, taking her sister's position as Lostbelt King.

She is Awilix-Yaxche, the Usurper Lostbelt King.

Bond Level 1:

Height/Weight: 186cm • 77kg 

Source: Mayan Mythology(The Popol Vuh)

Region: Guatemala

Alignment: Lawful • Good

Gender: Female-Presenting 

It is said that after the Tohil turned themselves into stone to become the guardian patrons of the K'iche' Maya, the gods Awilix and Tohil incarnated into mortal forms, becoming the Hero Twins Hunahpu and Xbalanque. After their father, Hun Hunahpu, was defeated and sacrificed by the Lords of Xibalba, the twins were born from Hunahpu's severed head impregnating the Blood Moon, Xquic. From the Xibalban Goddess, the greatest heroes of Mayan mythology were born, the living incarnation of the sun and moon itself.

As Awilix and Xbalanque are essentially one and the same person, the goddess of death has found a way to cheat the system of gods being impossible to be summoned normally, incarnating in her mortal form with her full Divinity intact.

"Hey, it's not cheating! It's being smart!"

It's totally cheating.

Bond Level 2:

In Proper Human History, the K'iche' Maya were gifted with three gods, Tohil, Jacawitz, and Awilix, who they were tasked with guarding and raising. In turn, the trio of divinities known as the Tohil would watch over and bless the Mayan people, gifting them fire, and protecting them from harm in exchange for offerings of blood. Awilix served as the patron goddess of the night sky, sickness, Pok-ta-Pok, and one of the many deities presiding over death. She was second only in authority to her sibling Tohil, who in some legends is the same deity as Qʼuqʼumatz, the K'iche' equivalent to the Yucatan region's Kukulkan.

As the Usurper Lostbelt King of the Guatemalan Lostbelt, Awilix reigns over the deities of the Mayan Pantheon as the sole ruler, taking over the Land of the Eternal Spring after slaying the most powerful gods of life and death. All beings, living and dead, recognize her authority and fear her wrath. With the Mayan people having this unquestioned power presiding over them, they soon spread outward, conquering the rest of Central America, before their influence gripped the entire planet, all while they praised the might of Awilix, the Eternal Eclipse.

Bond Level 3:

In another time and space, she was summoned in a Holy Grail War as a Lancer-Class. There, she only had a small fraction of her power, but was still a fearsome opponent. She dueled with conquerors, lords of death, former friends and former foes. She betrayed and was betrayed, and in the end, she failed to reach the dream she sought. While most Servants forget the wars they fight in, as a Divinity, each second she lived a reminder of how she failed as a goddess. Each wound, each loss, all of them a reminder of how far she fell.

Now, those slights against her serve as further motivation. A promise to avenge her losses and become the goddess that she was meant to be. To shackle the conqueror, to kill the immortal, and to show that even gods of death are as mortal as any man.

Bond Level 4:

The world is full of mirrors. Life and death. Sun and moon. Day and night. Health and sickness. The Maya recognized this, which is why in the Popol Vuh, many figures existed as part of a pair. Hun Hunahpu and Vucub Hunahpu. The Twelve Lords of Xibalba. The demons Zipacna and Cabrakan. And of course, the Hero Twins themselves, Hunahpu and Xbalanque.

In the Mayan Lostbelt, however, Awilix violated this existence of pairs by killing her twin and taking her Authority. The moon and sun were now one and the same. Life and death existed simultaneously. No longer were they a mirror, but rather, a concurrent existence. In turn, the balance of the world was left askew, all power concentrated into a single god. Even after granting other beings parts of her Authority, the Lostbelt was doomed to fall apart, something that Awilix simply could not allow.

So she became the pillar holding Xibalba, Earth, and Heaven together, becoming the entity known as Awilix-Yaxche that fastened all creation together. As a consequence, she became a lynchpin of the world forced to constantly consume her own people to keep existing, a monster that must constantly eat that she loves in order to save them.

Bond Level 5:

History is written by the winners. A phrase that has forever been passed down from generation to generation. To make one’s mark on the world, you have to write your story in the blood of those you conquered and subjugated. The K'iche' Maya were among those conquered, one of the many cultures and nations subjugated during Europe's Age of Exploration. The conquistadors came, burning their kings alive as an example, and razing the city of Qʼumarkaj to the ground.

Such was the course of mankind the World saw 'proper'. The once-great temples dedicated to the gods, now mere ruins. Their beloved sport, now banned for fear of their rituals. Their culture, ripped away, with only scraps left remaining. The gods, the kings, the people, all left forever scarred by the actions of the 'winners'.

Perhaps none were left more broken by this than the goddess of the night sky, Awilix. Raised by the very Mayan people themselves as one of the Tohil, she could do nothing as she watched the invasion of the Spaniards. How her people were raped, slaughtered, and put in chains. How their very existence was seen as 'barbaric', something to be ripped away and replaced with the Spaniard's own brutality. How they happily did it all in the name of 'salvation'.

As a Servant, Awilix's greatest wish is to undo this great tragedy. To become a 'winner' in her own right and have the chance to write a new history. To write a story where the conquered become conquerors, where the blood of the invaders flows freely ,and where the Maya rule over all.

She does not care if she became an enemy of the World to do so.

The World became her enemy first.

Extra (Clear Popul Vuh and Reach Bond 5):

As the Supreme Goddess of the Land of the Eternal Spring, she chose to walk among her people, descending from her throne to embrace the humanity she longed to oversee. She praised them, loved them, and cared for them, just at they had done for her long ago. But she could not save them. No matter what Authorities she gathered, no matter how much power she amassed, she could not save her Lostbelt from falling apart. Proper Human History was destined to eventually overtake her, no matter what power she amassed, no matter how many Servants she slew, the Mayan Empire would meet its end. 

Nevertheless, at the end of the world, when the Sun descended down to meet the Moon once again, she embraced it all with a smile on her face. It mattered not if she tore her body to shreds. It mattered not if her bones cracked beneath her fists with each blow. It mattered not if both Xibalba and Earth were shattering all around her.

As a goddess, it is her duty to protect the people that worshipped her.

And to remember those that have been lost.

"To my people, of both Proper Human History, and of the Lostbelt... Thank you for loving me... and for being loved."

Voice Lines(Lostbelt King):

Fight Start(First Battle): Well now, look who's right on time...

Fight Start (Decisive Battle): Once again, conquerors and raiders have come to my shores. I will fix the mistakes of the past, and claw out a future for my people and I!

Fight Start(Grand Battle): I am the tree that connects Heaven, Earth, and Xibalba, the pillar that holds this Lostbelt aloft. I am Awilix-Yaxche, the Goddess of the Maya! Come, Chaldeans, throw yourselves against me to try and reclaim your history, just as I have. Here and now, we will see whose future truly deserves to live on!

Fight Start(Final Battle): The world above me, the world below me, all coming crashing down... And yet I can't keep my eyes off of you. Ahahahaha... HAHAHAHAHAHA! Come on, Tohil! Let's settle this between us once and for all!

Skill 1: You will not evade me!

Skill 2: You will not escape me!

Skill 3: You will not deny me!

Attack 1(Grand Battle): Tremble as the night sky falls on your heads!

Attack 2(Grand Battle): Watch as the stars go out one by one!

Attack 3(Grand Battle): I'll make sure you won't come back from this!

Attack 4(Grand Battle): This is the end of your future!

Extra Attack(Grand Battle): I won't let this world end...! I'll destroy you all if I have to!

Attack 5(Final Battle): Too slow!

Attack 6(Final Battle): Hahahahaha! Come on, come on!

Attack 7(Final Battle): Come on, Tohil, you're getting sloppy!

Attack 8(Final Battle): I know you can take a hit better than that! Or have you just gotten too lazy?!

Extra Attack(Final Battle): Let's keep going... Until the world collapses all around us!

Noble Phantasm 1 (First Battle):

You've done well to make it this far, Chaldea.

You've faced gods, kings, demons, and horrors that defy all explanation.

How sad for you, that your story ends here!

Watch as the moon falls from the sky and crashes down on your heads!

Qʼumarkaj Impact!

Noble Phantasm 2 (Grand Battle):

This World… This History… It has trampled on me and the great kingdoms I helped build…

It has denied me and my peoples' history time and time again.

In turn... Let me deny the World its own history...

And from the corpses of my people, I will plant the seeds for a newer, greater era of prosperity!

JUNALIK YAXCHE!

Noble Phantasm 3 (Grand Battle):

From the four corners of the world, a single tree pierces through Heaven, Earth, and Xibalba.

From deep within the ground, out from the Land of the Trees, the great tree ascends.

Let's climb higher! Higher! Let us reach past the moon and stars into the edge of the universe!

Junalik Yaxche!

Noble Phantasm 4 (Final Battle):

Come on, Tohil! Don't slow down for even a second, because I want to make this last!

Let's solve this the only way we know how! With a final battle until the bitter end!

Q'umarkaj Impact!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Let's keep going until the end of time itself!

Damage from Noble Phantasm(First Battle): Weak.

Damage from Noble Phantasm(Grand Battle): Ghhh! I'm still... in control!

Damage from Noble Phantasm(Final Battle): Hehahahaha! Come on, is that the best you can do?!

Regular Damage(First Battle): That's just sad.

Regular Damage(Grand Battle): Ngh!

Regular Damage(Final Battle): Haha!

Defeated(Grand Battle): No... No, this isn't over! I won't let this be the end!

Defeated(Final Battle): Hunahpu... Tohil... Kukulkan... Hahaha... Can you forgive your stupid twin for all of this...? I just wanted to make a better future... But in the end, I couldn't manage that. All I did... was destroy everything.

[queerprayers]

hello! i had a quick question

so deuteronomy 18:14 mentions practicing magic and divination as not being allowed but, isnt prayer magical in itself? are we not practicing some form of divination when we celebrate our Lord (in our silly rituals and practices)? any thoughts on this?

thats all! have a blessed day!

Good question, beloved!

The differences between prayer and magic and worship and divination and ritual and practice are largely cultural and informed by our associations with a religion/culture/ethnicity. Ancient indigenous religions are often seen as primitive and naive for instance, more aligned with magic than "proper" religion, and newer religious practices are dismissed as "made-up." There's also inter-religious accusations that go on—think about how some Protestants describe Catholic rituals. And then there's people who are anti-religion in general, and see any spirituality as silly magical beliefs.

I would say we can make a distinction, however, between treating prayer as magic and treating prayer as worship and connection. If I believe saying this prayer ten times will heal my illness, this to me seems more of a magic spell than a prayer. Now anyone is welcome to believe in magic spells, but nonetheless I prefer prayer as a purposeful entering into God's presence, perhaps seeking specific blessings, but with no formula or assumption of a specific outcome.

If divination is gaining insight through religious practice, then definitely lots of Christians practice that. When people reduce practice to figuring out the future or interpreting signs or asking God for proof, I see a formulaic religion rather than a connecting one. I think we can definitely look at our practice and ask if we're treating it as a formula/spell. But my definitions of these words (and what I look for in religion) may differ from yours, and obviously a lot of this is cultural. I'm using "magic" to describe things I connect with less than "prayer," but this is arbitrary, and many people would consider my definition of prayer to be magical as well. 

All that said, I'm not sure any of this has much to do with Deuteronomy, so I'll also talk about the verse you brought up. Jewish law is always interesting to bring up in Christian circles, and we should acknowledge that we do not have the history of interpretation/relationship that Judaism has with it. We do have a relational history with it, but it's very different and doesn't align with the people who compiled these laws.  (Is this appropriation? Many would say yes, in the sense that Christianity inherently is. That's a whole nother conversation.) There are many Christian attitudes toward Jewish law—for me, it is a valuing of what I believe God gave to humans, with an acknowledgement that I am not the intended audience and am not called to follow it, but rather to honor it. The law's focus on justice and worship matters to me, albeit in a very different way than both its original audience and current Judaism.

Deuteronomy 18 bans occult practices by specifically referencing the nations/cultures around ancient Israel. It is comparing ancient Jewish practice to its contemporaries. Many biblical laws, in fact, exist as a way of differentiating Israel from other cultures, and many of the moral laws are in response to practices they would have seen around them. There's a huge focus on being set apart, on practicing a religion that doesn't look like anything else. That's not to say they're random—in fact, they're very specific.

I've said the difference between religion and magic is cultural, and Deuteronomy lays this out perfectly. From a modern lens, animal sacrifice to achieve forgiveness may seem primitive, like a magic spell. And yet, magic spells are prohibited. To them, it obviously wasn't sorcery—it was religious practice.

We do have specific practices that are condemned, like interpreting omens or consulting the dead, but there are plenty of those things (or at least things adjacent to those things) in the Bible. The implication is always don't do these things like those other people. You're an Israelite, not a Canaanite. You don't eat those things or dress that way or do those things in your temple because God wants you to commit yourself specifically to a new way of doing things. 

What does this mean to us, though? Canaanite paganism isn't practiced anymore, as far as I know. In our time and place, there's more of an awareness of respecting others' cultures and religions, even when we don't understand them. So what does it mean to honor a law that condemns magic in 2024?

Although you could investigate how you treat prayer/ritual, the relevant question to me in light of Deuteronomy isn't really "Is prayer inherently magical?" but "Am I being purposeful rather than conforming to those around me? Am I honoring the specific ways Christianity exists? Is my practice relevant to my beliefs, or could it be anyone's? Is it obvious through my rituals that I am a follower of Jesus?" I don't mean you have to advertise (Jesus actually specifically taught against that), but why are you Christian and not anything else? Is Jesus at the center of your practice? 

These ideas are very relevant to me in the US, surrounded by conservatism/evangelicalism—I don't want my faith to look like theirs. Maybe both our practices look like magic to an outsider, but I know how mine is different. (I'm not trying to put myself on a pedestal here—it's all a journey, and I won't pretend I know the "right way" to do things, but I strive towards a practice that causes less harm than theirs.)

To conclude: whatever your prayers/rituals are like, honor God through them. Don't fall into formulas or assumptions, but allow space for God to change you until you are fundamentally at odds with those who use God for evil. In a world of empire and capitalism and conservatism and violence, find a new way of doing things. Look more like God than the world; set apart your life. Paul tells us (Romans 13:8) that love does no harm to a neighbor, therefore love is the fulfillment of the law. I wouldn't worry about whether your prayer looks like magic, but about whether it looks like love.  

<3 Johanna

[sweetpea-sprite]

magical classism/fantasy politics: the megapost

[ID: a screenshot of cassiopeia casting the manna in ni no kuni: wrath of the white witch. overlaid on top of the image is impact font text which reads “this will affect the / engineering industry i think”. end ID]

good evening everyone. i’m ruby sweetpea-sprite. i’m so fucking normal about ni no kuni’s fake politics. i refuse to be the only one so here i am creating a megapost about every little piece of lore about it so that others can join me. if you’re new here: um. welcome. kublai was a diversity hire. more on that later!

for a summary: non-magical people have been oppressed since nazcaa fell, due to sages being in power and refusing to let them develop their own technology, as they “believe it to be against the gods” (and want to keep their societal power). this, ultimately, culminated into a large reason why lucien became shadar and banned magic. the goal of this post is to compile evidence for these events like some kind of fictional history lesson. it is a long fucking post.

this post will be in sections because it’s a long fucking post. recommended reading before we start, though i will be including quotes so you don’t gotta (though tbh you should read the tales of wonder anyway. for fun): the tenth tale of wonder, the flying machine.

have fun!

part one: the wizard’s companion

this first section is going to be the longest section because there’s so much shit in this fucking book dude. okay. don’t expect all of these sections to be this long the wizard’s companion is just fucked up

if you’ve just come back from reading that tale of wonder. hi! how was it. do you believe me yet

if you did not read the tale of wonder: just so you know, the wizard’s companion is bigoted.

i want to preface this section with this is not horace’s fault i promise. almost certainly, the wizard’s companion has been updated over the ten thousand years since it was written, and nazcaa has various attributes that mean there is no way anyone from there wrote this stuff (more on this later) - even excluding the fact that, you know. we actually have a timeframe for the tenth tale of wonder taking place (as the drawings the man sees are implied to be leonardo da vinci’s flying machine sketches) and it is decidedly not nazcaan times.

whoever the sages were who updated the wizard’s companion, however. well they weren’t great. to summarise: they wanted to keep their place in society and keep it WELL, by suppressing all knowledge of technology ever.

let’s start with the tale of wonder. the tenth tale of wonder, the flying machine, is about a man who goes to ichi no kuni (oliver’s world, for those who don’t know) and discovers sketches of a flying machine done by a painter. he then traces those sketches and brings them back to build the contraption - however, he is stopped by a sage. the entire tale is like this, understand, which is why i recommend reading it, but here are some choice quotes, from pages 300-302 of the companion:

“Using a machine to achieve something that should only be achieved using magic is akin to poisoning this world. “Poison!? Why is it like poison?” “Magic may only be used by those who possess a pure heart and who have undergone the proper training. Wizards borrow some of nature’s power and use it to humans’ benefit. Only those with a pure heart, one uncorrupted by evil, are able to do this. Using machines to triumph over nature is not the behavior of the pure-hearted.” Now, what the sage meant was that anyone could use a machine to manipulate nature--even the untrained and the evil. Machines gave ordinary humans powers that only gods and wizards should have.

“Esteemed Sage, wasn’t magic originally intended to make our lives easier? If machines achieve the same effect, why shouldn’t we use them?” “Because machines can be used by the wrong people, for the wrong reasons,” replied the sage impatiently. But the young wizard was undeterred. “I have been to the other world, and I know how things work there. They have people called ‘scientists’--they are the ones who make the machines--and they work miracles! They are capable of mixing iron with other rare metals to create things called ‘alloys’ which are strong enough to plough even the rockiest of soil. You cannot deny that farmers’ lives are much easier as a result! “Surely you do not believe that all ‘scientists’ seek to improve people’s lives?” the sage snapped back. “Do you not think, perhaps, that some of them wish to use their machines to control people--to bend them to their will?” The young wizard was speechless for a moment, but he soon found his tongue again. “Couldn’t the same be said for magic? Aren’t there some people who seek to use magic to increase their own influence?”

so you can see where i’m coming from.

the comparisons to poison. putting wizards on the same level as gods. stating that only those with a pure heart are able to use magic (blatantly untrue). magic as a sacred thing that cannot be defiled. “Do you not think, perhaps, that some of them wish to use their machines to control people--to bend them to their will?” the sage says, while clearly controlling what non-wizards do with their resources. this tale is directly written on the side of the sage; at the end, when the young man finally builds a cloud sweeper, the final paragraphs say this:

Indeed, he was too captivated by the scenery to spare a thought for the effect his new magical machine would have on the world. Had he known what impact it would have, you can be sure he would not have been quite so elated!

what impact?? there’s no impact i can find. cloud sweepers just exist. they help non-wizards travel. the only impact it could possibly be referencing is perhaps the start of people making more technology, inspired by this guy’s cloud sweepers. which, yeah. i guess the wizard’s companion would be upset about that.

technology, and wizards shunning it, is a large part of the wizard’s companion. this tale is the most egregious example, but there are more areas if you know where to look. we’ll come back to the tale of wonder in a moment, but for now, on the topic of cloud sweepers and how much the sages hate them, take a look at the first means of transportation section - page 129.

Non-wizards have long been forced to rely on vehicles to carry them to their destinations. This section aims to introduce some of the more common modes of transportation currently in use. All wizards are advised to read the information contained herein, for one cannot predict when circumstance--nixing, dismemberment, or wand loss, to name but three--might necessitate the use of such infernal contraptions as those here described.

note the PHRASING. non-wizards are forced to rely on vehicles. dismemberment as one of the circumstances, like you’d have to lose an arm to even consider this. and the most damning - “infernal” contraptions. they fucking hate these things

after that introductory paragraph, it does not get better: it goes on to describe cloud sweepers, in a rather bitter tone:

Wizards, of course, do not require magical assistance to fly through the air. Indeed, in times gone by, wizards would not have countenanced travel by any means other than broom. Alas, the age has changed, and now young wizards insist on using half-magical, half-mechanical contraptions known as “Cloud Sweepers.” Cloud Sweepers require only the merest dash of magic to get them off the ground, meaning that inexperienced magic users--and even non-wizards!--are able to ride them with gay abandon.

and even non-wizards! it says, with shock and horror. dear god... who let the non-wizards travel quickly and safely. this is going against the laws of nature

outside of cloud sweepers, in the second means of transportation section, this continues. with... boats. BOATS. THEY MAKE FUN OF NON-WIZARDS USING BOATS!!! PAGE 147:

Non-wizards rely upon ships to carry them across the world’s oceans. Indeed, many dream of owning their own vessels, imagining the “freedom” this would offer them.

freedom is IN QUOTES. THEY’RE MAKING FUN OF YOU FOR YOUR LITTLE BOAT RIDES!!! in all seriousness, these authors genuinely view non-wizards as inferior. they believe they will never have true freedom; always confined to the vehicles they’re allowed to make, the restrictions on which are defined BY THE SAGES. it’s kind of ridiculous.

obviously, all of this is awful. in the tale of wonder quotes i showed earlier, you can see a sage demanding that a non-wizard get rid of all of his sketches of technology. we can likely assume this was common practice back then, that sages simply had the power to do such a thing - or maybe this man was more dedicated than the rest (he had to be to actually build a da vinci flying machine when da vinci was still alive...) and they decided they had to put an end to it.

however, this kept happening. the tale continues on to say that other people, too, went to ichi no kuni and came back with stories of machines they saw there. how did they go, you might ask me. non-wizards can’t cast gateway.

there was a tunnel between worlds.

THE SAGES SEALED THE TUNNEL BETWEEN WORLDS TO KEEP PEOPLE FROM BRINGING BACK TECHNOLOGY THAT WOULD HELP THEM.

PAGE 302:

The sages realized that something must be done, because technology from the other world was threatening to ruin the balance of their own. They decided to seal the tunnel to the other world, to ensure that the place of magic within society was never threatened again. Now, visiting the other world was not completely forbidden--why, powerful wizards could still cast the spell known as “Gateway” and travel to the other world any time they pleased!

seriously they sealed the tunnel between worlds, knowing that only they would be able to access ichi no kuni. this is a fake world with fake politics and i’m pissed off about this. they wanted non-wizards to have as little power as possible.

this is, unfortunately, not the end of this section. there is one more very large thing about the wizard’s companion and this topic, that i’ve been consciously leaving out:

the sages hate technology. every section on technology is written in a bitter tone... except when they are talking about military, or already existing militarised things.

page 129 (means of transportation part one, cloud sweepers):

To give credit where it is due, certain enterprising engineers have gone so far as to attach guns to the front of their Cloud Sweepers, allowing them to attack enemies while in mid-air--a recognised limitation of the traditional wizard’s broom.

page 130 (rare weapons and armor - yes this is the page right after the one where they insult cloud sweepers):

Such items include pistols that allow one to open locks from a distance, and harps that attack one’s enemies when plucked. Should you be fortunate enough to come across such rare items, do not be afraid to use them on the field of battle. A wizard has nothing to fear from material objects.

page 147 (means of transportation part two, porco grosso):

The latest rumors emanating from the factories of Hamelin surround a battle tank known as the Porco Grosso. This leaked image--depicting the tank’s designers, the Porco twins, standing next to their creation--is the only evidence of its existence. The Porco Grosso is believed to be capable of scaling vertical walls and attacking an entire battalion of enemy troops with a single volley.

page 329 (regions of the world, hamelin):

The citizens of Hamelin are united both by their inquisitive natures and their desire to support and protect their empire. As a result, large-scale magi-scientific military projects are quite normal. Such projects are always kept top-secret, of course, butt rumors suggest that Hamelin’s latest development, the Porco Grosso tank, is several leagues ahead of any weapon in the other nations’ respective arsenals.

A wizard has nothing to fear from material objects. lol. lmao

all of these quotes are entirely neutral or positive about these developments. this edition of the wizard’s companion was published at the very start of shadar’s reign, likely before he began properly enforcing the magic ban. on hamelin’s page, the only technology talked about is that of military value; it’s likely safe to assume any other technology was forbidden.

...more on this later... haha...

part two: the implications

“the implications” of course being various things in game, and how they affect the characters. now that you know the general situation regarding non-wizards, you might ask me. ruby. how in god’s name did this start?

...well, we don’t know for sure. and it could very easily be as simple as “wizards have power and it developed from there”. but i have a theory.

nazcaa, as it happens, was very magi-scientific. we know this because have you ever been attacked by a magimech. i have. it’s fucking terrifying. those bitches were these people’s FAMILIARS!!! nazcaa was around during the age of sages, also known as the sagely stone age, when people were experimenting with stones, discovering the power behind them (maybe i should make a lore post on rocks)! no one was restricted! magi-science was HAPPENING. the wizard king was well known for being equal, to the point of choosing his stone guardians to represent humans, animals, and creatures.

and then, of course, he was assassinated.

and then, of course, his daughter cast the forbidden spell, and doomed nazcaa entirely.

my theory is that nazcaa was somewhat of a trailblazer for this stuff (the MAGIMECHS) and that when it was destroyed, people saw their technology as the thing that cursed them. the wizard’s companion describes nazcaa as a legend; how did the destruction of a kingdom that large not make it into history books? easy: no one knows what happened. but they can guess - and my guess is that they thought their technology went against the laws of nature, and therefore the gods. over thousands of years, this translates into nazcaa being forgotten, but the idea of that still lingering. obviously, this is a theory, and isn’t actually confirmed. but it would make a lot of sense, right?

that’s nazcaa; let’s talk about more modern-day things. for example, khulan and kublai.

even without dotdd confirming it, we can assume xanadu was pretty magical. it was run by a great sage and it fucking floated. it was magical. when kublai was hired, it was a highly magical palace of a highly magical kingdom; he is non-magical, to the point where in dotdd, he uses cloud sweepers, in a clear showing of his divide from wizardry. his position in the xanadu army was... i mean i already said it at the top of this essay: he was a diversity hire.

this is why khulan and kublai’s relationship was such a well-guarded secret. have you ever wondered why in god’s name they were so secretive about it? it’s THIS. are you kidding? the implications of a great sage and a non-wizard sky pirate...

while on the topic of kublai: in dotdd, there’s a little secret cave, called the “sky pirate’s hideout” (different to the one in wotww; kublai’s hideout in dotdd is called dragon’s den) in which you find ghosts of a long lost magic pirate crew from hundreds of years ago. most of it isn’t relevant to this post, but the ghost at the entrance directly scoffs at kublai’s pirate crew for not being able to use magic:

“Using magic to move a huge ship, we were a great pirate crew that controlled the seas around the world!“ [Drippy] “Never saw you lot. Though there is a Pirate King [Kublai] who flies the sky.” “Hmph. The pirates here are small fry compared to the olden days. I guess it’s because they’ve lost their ability to use magic. How pitiful they’ve become.”

it’s a neat little insight into how wizards from before shadar’s reign viewed non-magical people - and a neat little insight into how kublai was likely viewed when hired by the xanaduvian palace.

now that that’s done. here’s the big one:

hamelin.

gascon as well, in a moment. but for now let’s talk about hamelin as a city. now that we know all this, we can pretty easily make some assumptions about hamelin: before shadar’s reign, they were making military weapons and military weapons only (supported by the fact the wizard’s companion still describes hamelin as a “seat of scientific and magical learning”). during shadar’s reign, they may have gone a little too crazy; now that the sages are no longer in power, they’re experiencing an industrial revolution on such a large and fast scale because now they can actually make machines that aren’t. guns or tanks. and they already have the knowledge to do so because they’ve already been making guns and tanks. hamelin is on top of large mining deposits - clear by the mines and quarries everywhere on the pig iron plain - and they’ve already been making the aforementioned guns and tanks, so their tech evolves first.

(xanadu was on an island right next to autumnia; i wouldn’t be surprised if the iron wyvern came out of hamelin.)

they build a roof over the city. we know from dotdd that the primary reason for this is to protect them (likely from shadar, who is right next door), but it may have also been to keep the rain out of their engines. they don’t think about the consequences - they don’t KNOW about the consequences until they have to name a chest disease hamelin heart, a name, again, from dotdd (love that game), because the smog clouds the city.

(according to dotdd, hamelin was the smallest of the cities on autumnia before shadar took over. now it’s the only one standing.)

now. gascon. gascon is the most obvious piece of evidence for this entire thing, considering his lack of magic is a large plotpoint. it seems like even though hamelin as a city has been largely letting go of all of this, in favour of technology, the noble class has other ideas - they want to keep magical superiority alive, so much so that they refuse to have a non-wizard on the throne. even though gascon is good with machines - he gives you a blueprint for a gun he designed! - and would currently be a better fit for the throne than a great sage with no mechanical knowledge, he’s unable to ascend the throne because he can’t do magic. hamelin is a mechanical empire, no one is allowed to use magic ANYWAY, and gascon isn’t allowed to ascend the throne.

genuinely i wish marcassin’s brokenhearted plotline focused more on his ability to run the kingdom; the person who was meant to and was better fit for the job left him on account of the pressure from the sages, after all. he’s doing his best. he really is. but considering he IS a great sage, and most of marcassin’s education likely revolved around that instead of anything his kingdom is known for (seriously. isn’t it crazy that hamelin is the only one of the three kingdoms run by a great sage? that it has a law on it? ...more on this later)... he is not the best for the job is he. yet even if gascon didn’t run, from what we can tell from what swaine says about the situation, marcassin would have become emperor in his place anyway.

this shit runs DEEP.

part three: lucien

this is the big one. why did lucien, as shadar, ban magic? well i hope that now that you’ve read the rest of this post you can infer why, but the answer is easy: he wanted to stop the oppression of non-wizards, by taking away the power the sages wielded. but it’s actually a lot more personal than that. a lot of this section will be going into one of dotdd’s dlc quests, in which this is essentially spelled out for you.

because, according to this dlc quest: lucien did not grow up practicing magic.

in this quest (really series of quests. there’s three of them), you meet three of lucien’s friends from when he was in the army. they’re ghosts, of course, but they’re unable to move on because they feel guilt for not standing with lucien when he turned traitor. they say, very directly:

“A long time ago, Shadar wasn’t even able to use magic.” [Esther] “Seriously? Shadar. The Dark Djinn. One of the most powerful wizards ever, and you’re saying he wasn’t always able to use magic?” [Swaine] “But... If he couldn’t use magic, how was he able to join the battle mages?” “He didn’t want to join the battle mages. He thought that he would be just a normal soldier, given that he was a young man from Halcyon. But, even though he couldn’t use magic, he was made the attendant of a battle mage magimech.” [Oliver] “Magimech?” “He was a soldier whose job was to make synthetic stones. He knew how to hit the enemy hard, but he broke himself in the process of making our weapons. He was a support worker for those who were on the front lines. Lucien was right in the middle of all that, and I think that’s where he became interested in magic.”

so just to be clear. lucien was originally not a soldier in this war. he was an engineer who made weapons (because he wasn’t allowed to make anything else) who then began fighting after he became interested in magic. not only that, he was an apprentice of some kind to a MAGIMECH. are you kidding.

(speaking of. this is very similar to a certain someone in motorville.)

later on in this quest, you find lucien’s diary - kept safe by the magimech he attended - which details his contempt for living in a magic-driven world:

Magic is to blame, if anything... I won’t ever forgive anyone who uses magic spells to harm another person. If there were no magic in this world in the first place... then we wouldn’t have such horrifying wars, either. There is no place for me in this terrifying world. Even if my existence was suddenly extinguished, I don’t think that even my friends would miss me... or notice. But, the innocence of all the people caught up in this world of magic keeps eating away at me. I want to devote myself to protecting innocence. And I want to leave this diary for my friends to read, one day. I will hide it away somewhere no sane person would ever look for it, and I will entrust it to the custody of a guardian. If ever there is a person who reads this diary... I hope that they are a person who holds the same convictions and hopes for the future of the world that I do.

we all know lucien’s motivations for becoming the dark djinn: he wanted to put an end to the wars that seemed to run rampant throughout the world (hell. if you look at some of the dialogue from king tom and cowlipha lowlah, there’s still animosity between the three kingdoms.) so he became the sole target. and i mean. crazy fucking plan but it worked! the world is a lot more peaceful now than in lucien’s age! i don’t condone the murders but he did kind of fucking do it is the thing!

but why did he ban magic specifically? why were there wars in the first place? here’s my second theory of this post: the wars were between sages.

they’re using magic to fight. they’re using armies to attack each other. why ARE military inventions praised so highly by sages, when they have magic that can do much of the same? because their armies can use them. the target in rubicon when lucien betrayed his army was a sage - alicia’s parent. If there were no magic in this world in the first place... then we wouldn’t have such horrifying wars, either.

the sages like the invention of weapons that non-wizards can use so that those non-wizards can fight their wars for them. hamelin’s law that only a great sage can run the kingdom makes a lot more sense when you consider it’s not only for a class boundary, but for control.

the, now rather obvious, reason lucien banned magic was to get rid of the power imbalance; he took down all of the sages who were oppressing non-wizards, he stopped the wars they caused, he forced them to adapt without magic because they couldn’t defeat him. and. again it worked! hamelin is expanding, the al mamoon army uses cloud sweepers now, khulan and kublai are together... things are better! despite the horrors! the world of ni no kuni, as it is in game, is in a very specific position - where shadar has now managed to achieve his aim - tipping the scales so that non-wizards are no longer oppressed. clearly, there’s still some way to go, but it’s a good damn start.

but his job is done; there’s no need for him anymore. the wars are over, the world is almost peaceful again - the last thread tying it to that time is shadar himself. and i mean he did murder and break the hearts of a lot of people also. for the world to be truly peaceful, he needs to be defeated.

and isn’t it poetic that the pure-hearted one, he who will drive out the darkness. is a kid from motor city who likes building cars and didn’t know magic existed until he was thirteen.

Using machines to triumph over nature is not the behavior of the pure-hearted.

imagine how pissed off these sages would be. they come out of hiding after shadar has been defeated like finally! the place of magic within society has been restored! we will now start banning technology again and the pure-hearted one is sitting there like why would you do that :( they’re so cool :(

THEY WOULD BE SO ANGRYYYY it would be so funny. they can’t even fucking say anything. he’s a great sage’s son. he’s from detroit. they’ve been waiting for this powerful wizard to show up to defeat shadar so they can get their world back and he turns out to be a Mechanic. from Another World. full of CARS. AND HE’S THE SECOND COMING OF THE WIZARD KING. IMAGINE.

part four: conclusion

this is where i leave you. with the knowledge that oliver’s existence is driving magical bigots batshit. good for him

thank you for reading this 4500 WORD JESUS CHRIST???? essay. if you have any questions or comments feel free to leave them in my askbox. i fucking love politics that aren’t real in any shape or form and i also love other things about ni no kuni too so you can ask me anything about it.

i hope you get it now.

[chaifootsteps]

hey chai, found some shit that aged like milk while digging around.

tl;dr evidently viv was aware of how animators were mistreated / uncredited during sausage party's production and spoke about how their hard work deserved support.

(all the below is circa 2016)

she made a bunch of sausage party fanart that she apparently "gave to a friend at Sony" who "knew some of the uncredited animators" and said they wanted people to "respect" and "admire" the hard work they put into the movie.

she wrote the following on the page of fanart...

additionally, viv made a video about her thoughts on sausage party, and she made some interesting remarks in the comments...

...i can't watch the video myself as i also don't want to hear viv's voice,

but here's some tid-bits from the transcript...

she's seen "all of family guy... all of south park... and all of drawn together..." and thinks drawn together is "the most offensive" thing she's seen to-date

the only r-rated content she dislikes is ren and stimpy's adult party cartoon. she thinks it is the "apex of shock value... has no reason to exist... is painfully unpleasant to witness... not funny... not well done... just complete and utter garbage."

sausage party's stereotypes "didn't bother" her bc "everybody in the entire world is equally made fun of," it's "so offensive it's no longer offensive it's just stupid," none of the stereotyping is "mean-spirited," and the stereotyping "serves a purpose in the setting"

she says that it's "not fair" for artists to be... "uncredited... expected to work overtime for no money..."

she talks about how sausage party was this company's first film and they were using a very small budget that they should've used more carefully, but it went to other areas that were not the animators, who were expected to work nearly for free and without proper credit (that all sound familiar?)

she laments how these animators put "such amazing work" into the movie and "really cared about it" and that she "can't imagine doing that and not being credited"

she talks about how the company probably wanted sausage party to be "as good as possible for as cheap as possible" but that "doesn't excuse" how they treated their animators.

"the animators sold this movie, without the animation this movie would not nearly be as good or charming"

she felt the sexual humor "wasn't as uncomfortable" as other sexual humor can be simply because the characters weren't humans

she generally *really* sucks sausage party's dick saying it's an "existential allegory" and "critique of religion" and "going to be part of history" (these are of course subjective opinions ppl may or may not agree on but since it's what she thinks i'm including it.)

God, I almost hate to admit this, but I actually really liked Sausage Party in a vacuum. It's nice looking, the character designs are worlds better and more distinct than what you'll find in most Disney movies, and it's a nice balance of South Park-esque raunchiness and some genuinely interesting existential stuff about life, religion, and the human condition.

But...no, it's not high art, and it's not going to be part of history. Any slim chance it had of being part of history was blown to bits by the disgusting, unforgivable way it treated its animators.

Watching it now, you can absolutely see how Vivzie attempted to follow its example in all things, from crudeness to commentary on religion/human nature. The difference is that Sausage Party doesn't pull its punches when it comes to the former and is at least sort of intelligent when it comes to the latter. The result is that even at its dumbest and worst, it has a better understanding of what it's doing and what it's trying to be than Vivzie's stuff.

In the end, the only thing Vivziepop succeeded in taking away from Sausage Party was how to treat the people working for you.

[illusivesoul]

THINGS THAT I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT MY FELLOW WRITERS

Was tagged by @timesthatneverwere Thank you :)

I'll tag @mtreebeardiles @starlightwrites @mxanigel @anneapocalypse and @marythegizka . Only if you feel like doing this, of course.

I'll post the questions here and my answers under the cut.

Last book I read:

Greatest literary inspiration: 

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write:

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: 

You can recognize my writing by: 

My most controversial take (current fandom):

Top three favourite tropes: 

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): 

Share a random frustration:

.

Last book I read: Sapiens: From Animals to Gods by Yuval Harari. A really good and interesting book about the evolution of humanity and religion, societal developments, where humanity may be in the future, etc.

Greatest literary inspiration: Not sure I have any, to be honest.

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write: I'd love to read a fic that centers around big events in DA history like the fall of the elvhen empire after Solas brings up the Veil, the fall of Arlathan, the Exalted Marches, etc.

For ME, I'd like to read fics set in what the me2 characters were doing before the events of the game. Garrus in Omega, Samara searching for Morinth, Zaeed looking for Vido, etc

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: I mean, I mostly write rarepairs, so that doesn't get much attention already. I'm currently writing about Leliana's mom, who I hc was a Carta dwarf that through the twists of fate ended up working for Lady Cecile.

I love writing about obscure characters and giving depth to characters who have 2 lines of dialogue in the games lol.

You can recognize my writing by: If you find a ME or DA rare rarepair on ao3, there's a good chance that it was written by me lol

I always open fics with either descriptions of scenery ("It was a busy day at the Grand Cathedral") or direct dialogue (“Shouldn’t be much longer now, Natia”). And my fics very rarely go over 2k words.

I think this is a common thing for writers, but I've always felt that most of my smut fics are quite similar to each other.

My most controversial take (current fandom): I have a lot lol. I'll give 2 for Mass Effect and 2 for Dragon Age.

As much as I enjoy them, I don't like how most of the squadmates don't ever stand up to Shepard and are pretty much just yes men and women who go along with everything Shepard does (it's also why Ash and Kaidan are among my favs)

I think curing the Genophage in me3 is a mistake (I prefer Mordin surviving and going to work on the Crucible and then continue working on a cure to be used later when the galaxy is more stable, as his ending slides show)

For Dragon Age, Loghain was right in retreating from Ostagar cause the battle was unwinnable, and (not sure if this qualifies as a controversial take) Vivienne is the best Divine imo.

Top three favourite tropes: Not sure if these are tropes per se, but I enjoy Fighting before kissing, reuniting after being separated for years,

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): 6.

Share a random frustration: My lack of a proper schedule to write. I always try to get a some words into wips each days, but sometimes I spent days without writing followed by a sudden burst of activity lol.

[punemy-spotted]

A Worthy Grave - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Everybody Dies Alone

Pairing: Federal Agent!Ari Levinson x Witch!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS A HORROR FIC, True Crime Elements, Police Procedural Elements, Possibly a little Twin Peaks, Violence, Murder, Death, Flayed Bodies, Ghosts, Ghouls, Violence Against Women, Violence Against Random Hikers, The Woods are Dangerous, Serial Killers, Choking, Gutting, Witchcraft, Blood, Appalachian Gothic Horror, Eventual Smut, Plot with Porn

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENT THAT IS BEING PRESENTED, PLEASE DO NOT READ

Chapter Summary: Any place with enough history in it is gonna have ghosts. And sometimes they call your name.

O Mother It is that fear that moves both heart and tongue To draw tight curtains so that we might let the darker hours pass unseen. We hear you call in the deepest night. We hear you call to us in voices that belong to our dead and gone And we know better, but we follow you into The darkened woods all the same.

— Old Gods of Appalachia Episode 31: Season 3 Prologue

Notes: I’M BACK, BITCHES. This fic is a sort of direct sequel to Glory, Amen, so keep that in mind as you read it, except I decided to include MORE CE babes into this fic and may also include other CE babes in the future. This is gonna be more Twin Peaks inspired than anything else, and I hope you enjoy it! I crave feedback, so tell me what you think!

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

Any place with enough history in it is gonna have ghosts, and these mountains in particular — being the oldest mountains in the world — have the type of ghosts that predate the very humanity the spine of this land is afflicted with. The type of ghosts that — if you’re good and careful, if you find the right gaps ‘tween then and now t’slip between, say the right words to invite ‘em into your space — might just come pay you a visit.

Other times, you don’t gotta say shit.

These woods’ll keep you safe, if you keep ‘em safe, your momma would warn you with all the gravity of a stormcloud, wrist-deep in the rich black earth of her garden, digging out root vegetables and other sorts of magic from that treasure trove of life she’d spent more years cultivating than you’d actually been alive, This mountain will sustain you proper, if you sustain it.

These woods are deep and dark an’ full of the type of demons even your daddy’s Bible would have been scared to name, but you are the blood of both an’  your momma feared no man, woman, or haint in these or any mountains.

Which is why, when the specter shows up on your front porch, screamin’ for blood an’ justice, all you do is give her a name and offer her a plate of cornbread she’d never actually be able to eat.

Stops the screaming though.

Trouble with small towns — especially small towns in mountains like yours — is that sometimes, people go missing. People take walks out in the woods, fall into some mineshaft the State forgot to tag or get got by some apex predator lookin’ to prove just how wild God’s own country really is. People get lost, people just plain die. Nine times outta ten, nobody finds the body but the beasts an’ eventually nobody looks, all chalkin’ the loss up to some mountain sacrifice.

Blood for blood, what you make, I will take.

You’re no stranger to death — Hell, Cocke County coroner, you might almost call it your life’s work — but some parts of the job you could do without.

Parts which occasionally — and currently — include a sobbing woman sittin’ translucent an’ bloody in your kitchen.

You call her Janey, on account of the Jane Doe #117 title stamped on the manila folder sittin’ in your office, the one with the photos of a body that probably once belonged to the unsettled soul you’d invited inside and offered a sacrifice of fresh-baked bread. It ain’t her real name, but that’s what the boys over at Park Services are still trynna find out.

Ain’t nothin’ I can do about your body, honey, you tell her, sitting across from the glum-faced woman and trying to decipher the words she means to say between the static that just can’t stop pouring from that hollowed-out mouth.

Your daddy tried teachin’ you the language of the other side, all deep snarls an’ buzzin’ shadows, but sometimes it’s the words that manage to spill out that tell the truth, those last vestiges of humanity bubbling bloody an’ baleful from a tongueless mouth before death takes its last due.

You know her secrets.

You know she wore heels more than hiking shoes. You know she’s not from these mountains, not anywhere near these small towns. You scraped the dirt from under her fingernails and know she fought to survive with everything she had and you know, gut-sinkin’ and stomach churning, that she was not the first body her killer left behind.

You know you could write her name out on your paperwork and give her family some peace, tell ‘em she didn’t run away, tell ‘em she loved ‘em more than anything in the world.

You know you could tell her boyfriend she wasn’t cheating on him, that the man who picked her up and left her here for the beasts to find was someone she thought she could trust. You could tell her momma she was comin’ home from a good job, that she stopped drinkin’ four months ago, that therapy was goin’ well and she was gettin’ better. You could give her daddy a body to bury long before its time, an’ if this were the Holler you grew up in, you know that would be that.

But it ain’t, so nothin’s ever over, and now you’ve gotta figure out how to prove this shit.

You pour yourself a fourth cup of coffee, watching your cornbread offering slowly begin to mold, decay following death as it must always do. You gotta give me something to go off of for the Feds, honey.

You get static in return.

Well. That and the shrill ring of your landline, that old rotary thing you bought from a thrift shop on the other side of the state, kept connected just in case the towers don’t reach you through the early morning mist.

There’s only one goddamn asshole who’d call you on it at six in the goddamn morning.

You ever sleep, Levinson?

Could ask you the same thing, Doc, how long you been up?

Clockwork. The same conversation you’ve had every morning since Ari Levinson transferred from some national park you didn’t give a damn about up north, his drawl about as much a part of your morning routine as coffee and keeping Goatrude out of your vegetable garden.

You want something, Levinson, or you just callin’ to ask about my sleepin’ habits?

What, can’t check in on you, Doc? You can almost hear the casual smugness in his voice, imagining the way he might speak around the cigarette he’s probably smoking at too-early-in-the-morning, I got an update on Jane Doe. You need to get out here.

The grind of gravel tells you just how much choice you have in the matter, your houseguest disappearing the moment she realizes you are not about to be alone for much longer, Jesus, Levinson, you gotta give a lady some warning, you slam down the receiver with a satisfying sound, grabbing the thoroughly-molded cornbread and throwing the plate wholesale into the bin and dumping the rest of your coffee pot into a thermos, listening for the sound of his engine roaring to a stop as you rush through the rest of your morning.

You grab your bag as you leave, stalking your way down the gravel walk and flashing Ari Levinson — parked halfway up the driveway and mercifully blocked further by Goatrude doin’ her best guard dog impression — a hard glare in response to his lazy grin, One day I’m gonna have you arrested for trespassin’, you threaten as you get into the too-fancy-for-a-city-slicker truck he drives.

He doesn’t say a word as you get in, just turns the key in the ignition and with a wink and backs away from Goatrude threatening to headbutt his front bumper.

It takes about fifteen minutes to get to the scene, where your crew and work truck are already waiting, jumpsuit and booties prepared for you to pull on before you’re allowed past that yellow tape and allowed to face the scene before you.

And just what the Hell m’I supposed to do here?

Well, Doc, I’m pretty sure you’d say the next step’s the autopsy, Agent Ari Levinson, Park Services Investigation Division — or whatever the hell that formal title is that he handed off to the poor rookie trying to keep curious hikers away from the yellow tape — saunters up behind you, his cigarette put out so as not to contaminate the crime scene, taking it in with you.

Helluva scene too, with its most pertinent part — for you, right now — currently including a body layin’ pretty as a picture on a flat slab of rock, eyes closed and lips blue, naked as the day it was born.

Which all would’ve been fine, save for the lungs, kidneys, liver and contents of a final meal neatly poured from a stomach into a tupperware container and placed around the meatsack-that-had-once-been-a-human-being like an offering to some great and terrible mortician God.

If you got all the answers, Agent Obvious, you wanna explain to me just how the hell I’m supposed to autopsy a body that’s already been done?

Oh, we got a whole lot better than that. You contemplate turning him into a crime scene with your own gloved hands as he turns, gesturing towards the far side of the slab, just past the edge of a cluster of trees, where two of your staff stand with two large black dogs seated patiently in wait.

Surrounding a lump hidden by a big white sheet.

You can guess what’s underneath that sheet even before they remove it, like every shitty horror film you’ve seen. A chunk of meat vaguely shaped like a human, wearing none of its features, nothing identifiable ‘cept raw. meat.

We’ve been callin’ it Jekyll and Hyde all morning, Ari Levinson tells you, Deputy coroner’s fifty yards back dry heaving, so we—

Y’all brought in the big guns. Don’t tell me — that’s the same body.

Got it in one.

You close your eyes for a moment and take several breaths before looking at the scene once again, trying not to curse yourself or your momma for the way your day’s turned.

You got any more bad news for me, or am I allowed to start gettin’ in there and doing my job?

You try to ignore the way Ari Levinson’s gaze holds yours… and the way Jane Doe #117 shows up from over his shoulder, her hollow-mouthed scream silenced the moment the Agent starts to speak again, We got an ID on last week’s vic.

The thing about names is how much power they hold. Your daddy took his name, stole it off the corpse of a man too broken with hunger to protest. Your momma abandoned hers, becoming more of a title than a name, markin’ herself as matriarch an’ Queen of the verdant kingdom she clawed out from the hands of the ungrateful and the undeserving. Both of ‘em agonized over yours, planting seeds of bloom and prosperity in every theoretical letter before they finally settled on somethin’ proper.

Only for you to change it the moment you were old enough to move outta the family home, disappear to the big city an’ make a name for yourself, choosin’ to hide any connection you had to that Holler you called home, not outta shame but outta knowing.

And now it’s back. Starin’ at you from the ID card of a once-unidentified murder victim who’d spent your morning destroying a plate of your favorite cornbread recipe while her physical form remained in stasis in your morgue.

Rogers.

Bein’ the daughter of the town pastor and the town witch came easy for you, just like it did all your sisters. But outside the boundaries of the Holler where everybody knew to respect Ma an’ Pastor Rogers, you knew your family’s ghosts would be all too happy to eat you right up.

Ari Levinson brings you a cup of coffee as you step outside the cold storage of your morgue, looking a bit like you’d seen a ghost and like you’d suddenly regressed to being afraid of them. Alright, Doc?

Stupid questions ought to deserve stupid answers, but you have the good sense to nod your head and busy your mouth with scalding itself on fresh-brewed water somebody whispered about coffee to. Somebody contact her next of kin? You haven’t gotten used to saying her real name, your real name, so instead you just gesture vaguely at the morgue behind you, hoping the agent will have enough sense to use context clues and get to the point.

Thankfully, he does. Family’s coming down tomorrow. Folks live in North Dakota — got no idea how their girl ended up down here. Dad kept askin’.

You tell ‘em we got no idea?

You really think my bedside manner’s that bad, Doc?

Stupid questions ought to deserve stupid answers.

You continue to have the good sense to not respond, leaving Ari Levinson looking slightly more than insulted as you pretend to have heard your office phone ringing and walk right back into the icebox.

That night, the spirit formerly known as Jane Doe #117 comes with a friend. John Doe #43 is… less pleasant lookin’ than the girl whose ID he had hidden inside his flayed jaw, eyeless face staring at you from your kitchen window and tapping on the glass to be let in.

You don’t. Victims of violence like that come with haints attached to ‘em and you’re not about to invite that into your home. The offering of cornbread is left on your back porch instead, with a light left on so he wouldn’t get lost on his way to a meal that didn’t consist of Cliff bars and spinach tortellini. It doesn’t stop his knocking though, insistin’ that your presence alone is enough reason to get in here. That the door is only a few steps away.

As if you’ll risk getting hurt by this ghost who probably won’t even remember attacking you.

Maybe he’s the one that attacked her, maybe he never even saw her, maybe he just wants the same comfort she must’ve craved during her final minutes on this Earth, or maybe he’s just a figment of your imagination as you ruminate on why the idea of a dead girl sharin’ your old last name — not an uncommon last name either, owned by more than a hundred thousand people in the country alone — bothers you so goddamn much.

Whatever the case, you won’t open the door for him, not now. Not ever. You just keep your charms on you when you step outside and feed the goat before lockin’ up the house and going upstairs to go to bed, biddin’ them both goodnight and, We’ll do our best.

The knock on your front door comes not long after midnight, loud enough it echoes all the way to your bedroom, persistent and steady as a drum.

And when you don’t respond at first, it keeps right on banging on the damn thing until you’re convinced you’ll soon see a fist makin’ a dent through that thin wood as the sound becomes a steady pounding.

Doc! Doc, it’s Ari, you gotta let me in.

You’ve heard of haints makin’ mimics of voices, memories, an’ hell, even whole faces of both the living and the dead, so you know better than to fling that door wide open and let him in to see you in your nightclothes before he’s ever even bought you a damn dinner, but that tone of voice he bears chills you to the bone somehow.

Doc, I know you’re in there, you gotta—

Prove it’s you.

What?

You heard me. Tell me somethin’ only Ari Levinson would know I know about him.

Oh c’mon, Doc. I don’t fuckin’ know. Do you even know my birthday?

Okay, so he’s got a point. You don’t admit that.

Fine, fine. What’s the hurry, couldn’t this have waited ‘til tomorrow?

Ari Levinson looks half-wild as you let him in, glancing outside briefly to see the flayed figure of your most recent unwanted visitor still seated mutely on the porch, cornbread rotted to dust and Goatrude holding him at bay. The Agent either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, eyes fixed on you instead, You got a gun?

Got a gu— the hell sorta shit are you up to, Levinson?!

His lips curl back from his teeth in a sort of grimace before he turns, glancing out your front windows and then back at you, You know you have a skinless corpse on your porch?

Oh, so he noticed.

I’ve been trynna ignore it. That’s besides the point, the fuck are you doing out here and why do I need a gun?!

Personal protection, why else? There’s two dead bodies less than ten miles out from your property, Doc, or did you not notice?

The point. You need him to get to the point, and you might actually kill him if he doesn’t, arms crossed over your chest and trying not to let your scowl get too deep. Please don’t tell me you came all the way over to my house just to tell me to use protection.

No, it’s cuz I figured out how to measure distances, he retorts, before… drawing himself up to his full height and letting his jaw set properly, Fine. You gotta promise not to say I’m crazy first though.

Not crazy, says the crazy motherfucker bangin’ on my front door at one in the goddamn morning. You take in the seriousness of his glare for a moment, processing how many times you’ve actually seen him be serious before, Fine. Fine, I got a skinless guy on my porch anyway. Nothin’s gonna beat that.

Famous last words, you know, as you head to your kitchen to start up coffee. There’s no sleep to be had for you tonight.

So you’re tellin’ me you’re the one who found this morning’s corpse?

You watch him, stirring about three tablespoons worth of honey into your coffee in a vain attempt to use the added sugar in your caffeine to stay awake, watch the way his eyes glance askance like he could hide the gears turning in his head, coming up with an excuse for his confession that doesn’t sound as insane as he feels.

You got no idea, you almost tell him, but it’s almost funnier to watch him sweat.

I was investigating a hunch on… the girl, he’s as used to calling her Jane Doe as you are, the name slipping from his mind.

You don’t tell him you appreciate it it.

A hunch. What, you got an informant I don’t know about?

He looks sheepish, which is new for a man you didn’t know had any concept of shame, I told you not to call me crazy, Doc.

So you did. Fine. Just go over this again for me — you went out lookin’ for clues on the Jane Doe cuz you just… thought you missed somethin’, four miles away from where they found her body?

I said I went to the crime scene, Doc. And then I walked for four miles… on a hunch.

You’re going to need more coffee.

Well. Gotta hand it to you, Levinson, you weren’t wrong on that one.

See? Told you. Found the body, but knew I wasn’t gonna be able to justify why the fuck I was out at the ass-crack of dawn, four miles away from the scene and following a hunch so…

So you just got lucky with the hikers comin’ up the way?

He nods, dragging his tongue along the inside of his cheek while he chews over what to say next, looking both thoughtful and displeased, Figured I’d be investigating the scene anyway, any bootprints I had could be explained later.

You have to hand it to him, he did think it out. You sit back, listening to him continue, go on about calling you to the scene — helps to call your partner out, you suppose — and then going back to both scenes to figure out the connection between the dead girl and the skinless meatsack.

Figured that if it worked once, it’d work for Flayed Doe over there, so I just… walked. Followed the hunch, and ended up here—

The Flayed fucker’s been here since sundown — it happens.

You eye him, watching the way he doesn’t react to your casual explanation of why there’s a skinless corpse on your front porch, measuring his words, letting coffee scald your tongue and pretending it doesn’t bother you none as you consider how much you should believe him.

Or how much of his own grave you should let him dig.

You’re pretty calm about the dead guy, Ari’s voice is halfway to an accusation, watching you right back as he processes, measures you up, weighs the way you glance past his shoulder to the thing still knocking at your window and the girl still hiding from the agent in your kitchen.

You don’t answer, not right away, grabbing the biscuit jar and half-slamming it down on the table between the two of you instead, figuring you’ll both need something to fill your bellies on top of the coffee while you so something close to talkin’ about… this place, an’ whatever  the hell it’s doin’.

You’re not the only one telling lies, Levinson.

[angeltreasure]

I have a few questions from one Catholic to another!

What are your thoughts on Pope Francis? A lot of people call him the false prophet and I was wondering if you agree or disagree with that statement.

What are some Catholic traditions that people forget about?

What is a common Catholic misconception that you are tired of and why? For me, it is the stereotype that we worship the Virgin Mary.

What is your favorite prayer 🙏 as a Catholic?

What is a prayer to rebuke demonic energy?

What are your thoughts of zodiac signs? I don’t like them at all.

Jesus loves you! Please pray for my Grandpa. He has cancer.

Good morning. Thanks for stopping by! Here we go:

1. I believe in the Catholic Church’s Magisterium and unbroken apostolic succession that our priests, deacons, bishops, cardinals, and Pope etc are all part of a lineage leading back to the Apostles and Jesus Christ, the Son of God, a linage of laying of the hands which is found in the Bible. Not every word that our Holy Father speaks is done in papal infallibility. In other words, I don’t have to agree with every single word he speaks on some topics or actions he does outside of papal infallibility, but I recognize and respect that he really is our current Pope.

2. A lot of Catholic traditions come from each individual country so my answer may be different than if you ask someone else. I can think of these: praying the Angelus, saying the St. Michael prayer at the end of the Mass, saying the St. Michael prayer at the end of the Rosary, some people don’t bother to fast before the Holy Mass, going around visiting all the Catholic Churches in your area and stopping inside to say a prayer…

3. A common Catholic misconception indeed is that we worship Mary. That’s probably the most common one. Another one is that we aren’t Christians at all but pagan and that we pray to dead people.

4. It’s really hard to pick a favorite prayer! I think mine is the St. Michael prayer because I’ve really needed his intercession growing up—- still do!

5. If you want to know the proper deliverance prayers we are allowed to pray as Catholic laity I highly suggest purchasing this book by Fr. Chad Ripperger… Deliverance Prayers: For Use by the Laity. Do not attempt to use the one made for priests because Satan and the demons will know if you did.

6. What I think of zodiac signs?

2116 All forms of divination are to be rejected: recourse to Satan or demons, conjuring up the dead or other practices falsely supposed to "unveil" the future. Consulting horoscopes, astrology, palm reading, interpretation of omens and lots, the phenomena of clairvoyance, and recourse to mediums all conceal a desire for power over time, history, and, in the last analysis, other human beings, as well as a wish to conciliate hidden powers. They contradict the honor, respect, and loving fear that we owe to God alone.

- #2116, Catechism of the Catholic Church, second edition.

7. I love Jesus so much. Remember He loves you too. I will certainly pray for your grandpa!

[nerdygaymormon]

hello! o/ im a queer teenager from canada! i lead my highschool's gsa and am very active in the queer community around us. we raised $800 for the Trevor Project last year, raised $500 towards a chest binder breakroom at our school and are officially putting on the school's first all-age queer prom this may!

however, im very confused at the moment. i grew up in an atheist household and have never really found myself believing in God or anything religious. while i still dont think i believe ALL of it, lately ive been doing a lot of thinking after finding an old pocket bible that belonged to my great grandmother (she practically raised me but i never knew she was religious, she never mentioned it at all) and flipping through it and reading her flagged scriptures (i believe thats what theyre called, forgive me if im wrong), etc.

i then resorted to the internet and have been doing a bit of research and am now very conflicted about my feelings and beliefs. i now have moments where i genuinely believe there is something/someone divine out there. i find myself... almost talking to it, sometimes? i dont really know how to describe it. i even tried praying the other day for the first time in my life. (i probably didnt do it right if theres a proper way, but the point is i did it and i surprised myself.)

even though i have these moments, i still have times where i doubt it all. aside from the occasional joke, ive always done my best to be respectful of people's faith, but never saw myself believing until now. and when i say believe, like i said before, it isnt all of it. (like the creation of the world, etc)

i feel sort of fake in a way i dont know how to describe because of my conflicted feelings and how i dont believe everything. there are a lot of things i want to say about it but i really cant pull words from the emotions and i keep trying to. i also dont really have anyone in my life who i can talk to about this stuff. my family will not take me seriously and none of my friends and teachers are religious.

i dont know if you take asks like this, and its totally fine if you dont, but if you have any kind of advice it would be greatly appreciated.

sorry for the long ask, but thanks so much! hope youre having a wonderful day my friend 🤍

Congratulations for all you accomplish for queer students at your school! That's amazing!!!

That you find some aspects with religion resonates with you shouldn't be surprising or upsetting. Humans have been creating and practicing religions since before there was recorded history. There seems to be a need that is satisfied by religion.

In a broad sense, religion does 3 thing:

1. It provides an explanation for natural phenomena. Why is the ground shaking? Why did the sun go dark temporarily? Why is there a drought? Why is dad sick? Why did a hurricane pummel New Orleans?

2. Religions provide meaning to life. Religion provides answers for what is the purpose of life and what happens when we die. Religions are a vehicle for passing along the wisdom from past generations from hundreds and thousands of years ago.

3. Religion helps humans build community and encourages cooperation among those who believe. Religious belief also helps people develop self-discipline. Unfortunately, religions also have been used to define who is in a community and who is not, and this has led to a lot of harm and even wars

Beyond all these macro reasons, religion is experienced at the individual level. An individual prays and receive comfort and answers and feels a larger entity cares about them. Their faith gives them a purpose. They have a community that is meaningful in their lives. This is part of the truth of their lived experience and can't be easily quantified. It's what makes religion still relevant in the lives of many people today

[projecthipster]

Fight Club, by Chuck Palahniuk

This being a stock photo is very enjoyable to me.

“We are God's middle children, according to Tyler Durden, with no special place in history and no special attention. Unless we get God's attention, we have no hope of damnation or redemption. Which is worse, Hell or nothing?”

"A bit 2edgy4u, but neat ideas about how angry men be angry. Didn’t care a lot for the terse, repetitive writing style to start but I got used to it as the threads came together to the intense climax. And it’s short, so not like it was a huge investment."

Ok, so that’s a pretty terse review. Ironically, considering that “terse, repetitive writing” was one of my criticisms. That was, directly copy-pasted, the review I posted on Goodreads after finishing Fight Club early last year. For a proper Project Hipster post I ought to expand it. And yet— I actually think that covers it pretty well. Let’s break my terse review of this terse novel down into its aspects, then, and see what I meant, in less terse words, and let’s see whether a year and a half to think things over has changed my thoughts. Terse doesn’t sound like a word anymore.

A bit 2edgy4u, but neat ideas about how angry men be angry

The aspect of Hipsterdom that I’ve never gravitated so much towards is that which stems from angsty postmodern 90s Gen X disillusionment, and as I mentioned back in my first Radiohead review, Palahniuk is kind of the epitome of that. And he does do it well.

Maybe I’m just too young to have lived through it, but I can empathize with it. The routine of life in a bullshit job under Capitalism Victorious is as mind-numbing now as it was then, I know well, and the now laughable late millennium rhetoric of the End of History must have added a particularly different sort of catalyst for mental illness. While today it’s the chaos of the world that fills us with anxiety, its seeming stability in the age of Fight Club must have created another sort of dread, living with the apparent surety that this world of fluorescence and linoleum was the ultimate aspiration of society, and now that it had arrived, it would carry on forever. I need the darkness, someone please cut the light!

Is it any wonder, then, that Palanhiuk’s pointedly nameless narrator falls into a sleepless spiral of desire for chaos, wanting to “wipe his ass with the Mona Lisa” and break beautiful things just to experience the thrill of change? That spiral leads the narrator into Project Mayhem, the anarcho-fascist cult of Tyler Durden, a mysterious, rebellious drifter who may be more than he seems, and promises an escape from monotony through rebellion, ascending over the short course of the novel from pranks to terrorism.

A lot of the discourse around this book and its adaptation centres on that always-crucial question – in stories about men lashing out in anger, how much are we meant to agree? The ending of Fight Club (the book, at least; we’ll come back to that point) makes it pretty clear that Palahniuk is hardly holding up Tyler Durden as a role model. But he comes from a place motivated by genuine criticism of a heartless society. Palanhiuk says that its’ “about a lonely person looking for some way to connect with other people." It’s a cautionary tale, then, about the fallout of loneliness and toxic masculinity, but where’s the line that morality is transcended in favour of rage? For the narrator, it’s another character’s death. For the reader, should it be the same? Or earlier? These are interesting, worthwhile questions! I have no definitive answers to them. There are interesting metaphors here, too, like how Tyler steals human fat from lipo clinics, literally the offcast fat of the fattening system, and uses it to make his weapons.

Palahniuk was himself a member of something called the Cacophony Society, which sounds a lot like Project Mayhem purely in name, but reading up on it makes it sound a lot less intense, given that it’s more of an unincorporated counter-cultural arts group. Cacophonists allegedly created Burning Man, paint Banksyesque street art, perform satirical Christmas carols, and disrupt the rush by blocking traffic to host picnics open to all visitors. Oh, and, uh, write edgy novels. Sounds fun, actually. Sounds like that’s a much healthier response to the same things that drive the characters in Fight Club to violence. Apparently the Cacophony Society itself stems from an earlier San Fransisco secret society called the Suicide Club, which focused mostly on urban exploration and the benefits of thrill-seeking.

Didn’t care a lot for the terse, repetitive writing style to start but I got used to it

Yeah, I still think this to some degree. I just prefer purpler prose, on a personal level. But I can respect Palanhiuk’s stylistic choices, to the point that they seem to be impacting these very sentences as I type them. Quotes from Fight Club in my mind are right now bleeding into the way I tackle my own keyboard. One maybe generous interpretation of Fight Club’s writing style is that it’s a window into the narrator's deteriorating mental state. When we’re working around sleepless nights, and when stress and anger are eroding reason into base fight-or-flight instinct, none of us are thinking in full sentences. It helps somehow to know that there’s a name and history for this style as well. Palahniuk was a disciple of Tom Spanbauer, who in Portland, where lives the dream of the 90s, taught the style he called “dangerous writing.” Spanbauer defines the style’s tenets as minimalism, realism, and writing from painful personal experience. In a way it’s very similar to Hemingway’s “one true sentence” approach. It’s another swing of the pendulum in the same direction, I suppose. As Hemingway was reacting against the Romantics, Spanbauer and Palahniuk were reacting to the maximalist “hysterical realism” of David Foster Wallace and Zadie Smith (who I also like.) It’s a style. Can’t fault style for consistency. In terms of repetition, I’m referring of course to the very prominent motifs, like the narrator's constant (and it is constant) reframing of the Reader’s Digest feature “I am Joe’s…”

as the threads came together to the intense climax

And what a climax. I should preface by saying that somehow I’ve still never actually seen the movie. Through cultural osmosis, though, I knew the twist. If you don’t, stop reading. Despite Publishers Weekly calling the twist “particularly bizarre,” despite the use of then-obscure dissociative identity disorder to justify its mechanics, it’s fairly simple in concept. This character seems to be the character’s secret ambitions manifested ad extremis. And it turns out that’s exactly what he is. It’s one of those devices that leads every scene to be read two ways, which is always good, and it makes the climax thrilling. I also know how the movie ends differently. I think in terms of themes I prefer the book version, but I understand why it was changed to a more visually dramatic ending for the movie. I also think it’s pretty funny that the Chinese release of the movie wasn’t allowed to show Project Mayhem succeeding, so it cuts out the end in favour of essentially telling the book ending in captions.

And it’s short, so not like it was a huge investment.

Unlike this post. Sorry. Good thing I don't write these with the assumption that anyone will ever read them.

I give this hipster book four disillusioned white men out of five.

Project Hipster is a futile and disorganized attempt to dive into the world of things that the internet has at some point claimed "are hipster," mostly through ListChallenges search results.

This review comes from the ninth list, Essential Books For Hipsters.

Next up: a more lighthearted movie that can still make you cry.

Stay deck.

[libidomechanica]

“We movements, defiles”

A ballad sequence

               First Stanza

With coral beneath that hath no     stays, had He the clouded, and turning sister, pitying     chance through by charms, my dame

taught off Juan said. Which was so far     retire intoxicating the branches me to blamed     hym thought, in proper forming

rich their finger of a threading     in his dripping a golden tits arching toward part of     their right an history, and

that glance of mine. In act to Time’s     creeping shortly and most unmeek,—I knelt before he could     my wrinkled on fire: when

every face.—Shut his face. Not by     rude sound digestion, ’ said the Lady Ida: here are no     changes of promise twice

five bullets frequent in words, and     pray yow soon juan, what capacious state? Lest, till not happiness!     And gay, and every

fine style: how looks like a ballistic     missing our fury with such sweeter! Singing O darlin’     darlin’ darlin’ darlin’

darlin’ darlin’ darlin’. Women     and rosé on the lash one, I think two persuade, and on     the fold! Man’s wife; I sue

not mark of every deel. Started     is Seint Jerome, that achievement of deceive the Dogges     hem needeth fast, and

muttering as air! And for life has     when on thing, on through-in my meat and his state, hang in Sant’     Ambrogio’s! So, all the

nations which had ceaseless and     merciless roses fed, your own face some grace the current dance     with his arm over it

hath broken ben of Scots; true—tears     to hire, every day you tell me, tired with another     girdle, as if by some

reason. For their eyes presence, just     as myne oldest saint, before me, if I were theme; as suite     of these? Smile, like Esau,

for the beaty and here I bid     her autumn tresses fals, but entomb us. Or doon heeste.     How will shore: freezing cold

dominion sweet Venus from hous     and wise, ambitious mazes spreaded danced years old and rolls     the right dread of Widdin.

Most quiet on higher. Thou made     of burning silver spake and Empress, to take your reputation,     for warning: the

heau’nly harmful deeds; the waters,     some wives who make their pinions of lilies fail. To this thorny     sharks from madness is

my little aside: resuming     quite; next week; she of them, and Gods name sensual phantasied.     Felt a high and lisping

through with Plenty of this of     all mankind, keep back your helpe me chaunge of body burst wife,     lust, modest, I wad mourn

when we say, watching. We movements,     defiles. Green leaves of pathos, and pillows whom fell: mething     awkward; for his bed.

               Second Stanza

Be not fed so wikked wyves     wolde lyve parfitly, and wish I were lies and health had come     and glory spread, and what is our heart’s enough, began as     t were, away. One or two on fig skins, that didn’t maketh     kep or chart, a key … Even

there, slew both great Sea-King body,     and so allied. Thy Mother ever dipp’d with me birafte     his cause I take hold my stomacher; and to marry;     for who have loved—that love, into with Fortune sends in the     call? She order’d over.

               Third Stanza

—A moment more lily arms will     to the earth; and white flowers. Her visage, and cough one huge     Python antagonizing here are but me cast, and deem,     because I am forsaken; a tormenting, shewing     told the usual luck!

               Fourth Stanza

And less; and where is not conquest     rose with youth almost at ones. Having tears, and hoar; they     possible. Gainsay, humanity

would put then commence with     the deuill at eight of kisses and breadth and by thee my selfe,     does crowns without defended

marks upon a wide o’er? Thou     opener of their ways: this fated spot for father you     call thee what we directed

learn; there is most indignant     work’d the through the morning- ’ here to be impair, to hope to     blend with a riding them

painted, as their hue, too wise men     yblesse! Her though t were one side by sign that they can’t answered,     peace! Yet preest, so moot

I thynke, she may bithynke how me     bene fraught sun-bow that is a dog, as quiet as day,     for I would love were

solitaire? Bád nat every deel. The     two are the contends, lashed fly to this, that have said Juan, what     made her pair so sorrow

winter, sculptor, cripple free! On     the manere wonned a wicked there, must blow-’ and Morning     like to begin withal

he knew not with otherwise’ she     laid some raise than the loss of good part and starling, you shalt     win much lead and be once

it wel I woot wel it is no     shame or Greece, white, I drew men’s harsh intent to moue, whose plumage     sat victorie, that remote

recoil. By one as stern seas     long agoe: for natural. Syllables, bossed with five bits of deathmasks     into flattery!

Of good though he loud tempest, as     the leve, the love more chastitee abyde, these pretty, trifling     to show his own brain-spattern,

and, last stoops down from their planet,     thou in a new neighebores wyf go roule about     my body would like

to the Night of time. ’ It will now,     a clammy dewy head in perfections as any men;     but little to the women

together: Hugely, he reason     I’m weary death, smiles, O let myself, and his scythe towering     of death-white, I drew

all surmises. Or antiquity     forest out one troublen al his material—men     are such ladies like a

Miss America Contest. That     manly majestic piece- meal with flower add the empress,     her freight on ev’ry tree.

               Fifth Stanza

Is the one while the dream not of     those eyes and my teeth, with a virgin, made within your break     this is all Styx through of

the orange displayment. Me go:     take breath, rather beauty can be thy silver. Like a hawk,     an’ it with his Christian!

The nymph-like a ball above my     fresh from accident; it suffers now, would take the salmon     sing in I would bring the

sun beats light. I wote, it glittering     off bridge hung, shadow and left hundred I was so he     was quench’d in the first fruit;

but prepare with her e’e? That ought     aid.—Address my love, into love to the his bracelet richly     comfortable after

the shepheards doen hem of the     vast disintegration: followers keep for the fought, as     also did Miss America

Contest. Of flutes; not for     gentle she smile as he pays you back from our own image,     white of senses with your

lived for fish, and then I sent our     soft palm—Not so may, what the offer young! With they went that     there reign’d. ’ Lads come cleare. Speak!

Doth false, how shall be bound thanne wolde     I take him to her beauty’s effect on vice. Leaving at     an extraneous mixture

of solemn port, hinted too.     Yet tikled I his horrible which, but knew you see, and     white birch, glinting sea. Increased

in mocke at an extreme     effeminate skin, enough, what not enough, God woot, of content     whistles shadows bathe

away, till your place. And sabre-     like a ball above, thy sweet love when youth and noun, on treasured     much syrup ran across

it—All were there spectrum of     the world’s master, Sirens though no doubt itself and about?     And me! All those who know

that alle they fellows and gave     us, ere from the taper, bowed head cool-rooted me up     with a frown as t were

all my arbour third, they proud and     ranne out its blood: ’twas a high-designed, Heaven. As, seistow,     without slack old negro

Baba pause, in spirit down into     his imperial condescending although in its     smooth-moving to my change.

               Sixth Stanza

To ope that he is ours to thee.     My fine waste, refuse and bad us for you. To feel thing     here once I invited arrest at the main pointed fire     womankind, singing to do with that were go, whence down from     our corner wheelings of

a sometimes ocean invade with     there she hath its way. The disgust, and spin, and—withouten     many han that’s the listening belates, haunted fell storm,     over us, and wide, through the one word that in these dear.     Like flower the broad, made

woman, supernaturally;     but O with daily spend shifts and left his we were manere     wood, be moulders pure was king had to subdued to shame away,     gone fair goddess: which Musike speak; and yet be wedde, and     the mazy foremost, to

glide to go yet thou art all the     dore, as wel after the faces throte. But I am stuff.     The plasma, listening pulsing just a no less air; where three     years? He that is a line of rubles milky way you see,     if e’er, when we next meet

in kingly crown and in black, but     I may paused, as he bled: and so warm of her skims, or sleepy     one! Darling, afire, which I have done. For me,—so sweep     of death sealed by a bowstrings, before her waist, and, but burst     his dog hote to them blyve

of that same flying like an     individual.—We fille as there but that closde-vp sense     it in that’s surface. A plot, a plot to slope, and powers     did falleth me for many a myrthe. Despite, has curved all     night the sound of solemnize

thy cheek ther aspect bursts sixteen     arms into one who were the deep, until I get simple     beach. And pine, and they do not be scann’d, of half a single     music and thy ball who with rainbows, in the distress     he strips from some other,

yet half wonder undinal vast     adieu! As the laste, and such sort, that Lady, I beseech     you blind men must stepped on his transpired? Of pupils; she     had bene their promise: all, then winter that is left them     three weeks, I breyde. Three year

whole courageless, for thee. But     it was also in and song, while her you please me, Soul of     the nyghtyngale, lo, quod the feel estrange alone     comfortable quarter’d from my bondage. ’ She like a battle     for dainty toying. Men

may come to love of earth? Last then,     went ties add whatsoever in all this hour-glass and his     radiant fire, of bigamye? Where in height, closely fused as a     lion’s hands. Would we both perishable repose—still at     eight ynogh, the big kids

lie fall, the sage’s pen—the proem,     how much warmth and waly fa’ the night; I always so poor     struis domos’ shows the sudden like a wellė Jhesu refressh     and gloom; a spell from the day whetting off bridges, hurling     my tattered in, turns life

proves you say, both of trees. Neuer     I wrote thy brighten slowly crimson. Reasons clear to thise     men have? To die through he hadden three, or a Kidde, or pees,     or I missaye. Thereupon she laid his way which may flowers     of his book or lute; but

had still be the clouds and for me     this: how can mend; and wo, we fill! And flatt’ring ivy leaf     takes his quarters, each bevy with oats! Thou shalt thou goest stripling     valentine. Shepheard in his mouth almost to plant, and     runs to his in time, and

after us: this kings of which,     as this greened fell with any men; but I would understand?     I seye sooth. Behold there men, light reach amatory look’d     upon bed abyde, then her stinginess, gossip and dear     the sack and in tears. Let

us pray, ’ replenish hunger     care. His two eyes were seen the east. The penitent shrink—what     is still music we thus began to thee returns to know     how the imperial favour’d drums, and fill or red winged     by thee vantage, doubly

mingled by tome and station, up     shall state, in many wise, and place my mouth, forgetting and     lasting, but wouldst use? Torture- pilgrimages, to take some     me. Upon the Nine, one of the silver little back the     wedde, and have done.—When I

am in the break her who know     much to thee are twin brother’s line, ribb’d and meke, and bad oure     did strove who will be hurl’d with the billows rude in wanton     wing, like atoms—years had to no miracles, and that loss;     both find our exit and

for who would hardly my grief at     thy flame, by God’s worke is coming to sear up and she was     his heed, nakedness is my might be arbiter of faces,     to cast hir hand to thrown and clean any kind? Helen,     the wind: far, far and moss.

               Seventh Stanza

’Bove the morning where, God mought up,     and that vnkind guest had doon biforn, from chain’d, and rites tooth. But     the blood? Side; this knowe, chaunced

to some among weeks shut until     their work, doth tears, even yet are cut off! Low above:     dearest, with it, and me!

               Eighth Stanza

Where they came: she hated leafe sturre.     Of him go and when Fate prevent; nor waste in a church up     fine save you that you wake, sleeps with limit of champagne and     may be sanctuary space sappho last, that Sappho last,     with golden spheres, since king

to his hour-glass of my bosom,     and puff on puff from those of the wedde a wyf in corn, upon     his own like what place, the better, ’ Juan was princes; there     ’gan warm of her dare to cradle wantoning case they fellows     obeying traveller

had been accused, the lassie     o’ my heart in the morning for the cheke that I scorn’d the     shepheards voyce, the sweetest out the hardiest hours, sketches,     wizard and the lady eyed each; and high Poet!—Then the     despite, and follow vast,

so as I said, Ruined. As large,     as though my life or death. Answers here! Our match between sea     and looking fountains save her oath, which wisė wyvės that goes     with thee, and book you or mend the shepherds call. So that he’ll     no gang to confusion

any one’s own mouth gratis.—Fairest     boughs when ye know me why the Spartan Mother job this     way, but Er that the finds none nearer as the first. And studies     at made the midst, Madam, I love yourself-’ and     humiliation you were mis-

shapen pigmies, deaf moonlight—? These     don’t; because he was on the waters trough the damn’dest princess     brought be sentine, who made Catherine, and sooner was served     for that I was able, and profligate to dwells, in gulf     on himself: and her as

has been in repreeve of oure sheet—     crushed her majesty of feather., Believing a wind of     Thought but forth a holier din their farther relics, when     my demon Poesy! And the night longing, leather’d love that     no farewell! In two clear

from end to the chosen lassie,     erewhile I staid an’ shilling stuffed in your own Ellis     Island, and repentance was his force, or no—may teach     strange song his own self-applause, to the highest may deem.     Assembly wander a lawn,

and basketball. Like mischievously     blank to a tempers? I wanted fire and cragge so soft,     unseen, went forward, so moot he be, let thing beneath holy     and his greater blaze, and clepe I, but live, not only     thre werre ystynt. To his

ears, like minde, say whetting armada     of promise, and juicy vigorous cries, when a little     losse, and woof, were they; carpets every nymph arose darkness.,     With them, and I’ll gentleman. To wedde, a God! I would     repreeve of solemnized

the prente of life I crawled out     of my warde-cors, and thus began to tell! Me so. Above     the fickle Fair One, when Fate prevents preferrė bigamye? Who     took their fingers oft and go work&weep. ’ Th’ tempest t     were useless I cannon.

Of pains rise; and lyė as a     skeleton with a smiling both perceived a cursing, alert.     Thing words, and there. And takė me. This joyous al of pictures     of pleasure clerk is some smooth-shaven, love, farewell! We were     in the charge wher third sort

to follow’d, as to blamed hym best,     for a newspaper posterity. What, sir! By Loues own     mirrors they, with the people would like all this dore I how     far have stayed above thee; azure clog him, looking     Lately the interfuse?

               Ninth Stanza

With me birafte his chief pleasure.     And if the seas his worlds miscarry, when themselves awful,     ay or golden sphere. Drew

himself for his small, you on it     and prechyng eek, with neighbouring at another. And he     spacious base. When you can

not imaginings: old rusted     a Saint Bartholome, that burnt up? And were, then I’ll give you     will do well? Began to

be impair, and, well or galleons     of many kisses whisper, by the sixth shafts of     disappointment stuck hard: she

brought thus, God made up now an age,     upon a tuft of sky where therbifoore. But now is this     tale had done its progress

call his rider love killer, I     am murderers hung swoon left foot and from falling safely.     Men become, perhaps

evening, this arrow-wounded under     the first to mine own shared bed, thing so, she orders under     the great rate. And I’ve

made a breathing, sir; for itself,     behind, toward for my birth strung each shell, the law given     departest, as eels are heaven,

doutelees, by sun this lungs     fill wink of it, er than all then too little eye’s anatomy.     Of forms and lie

hid? As fair with what no further,     who is love repair’d shade and slantwise thatch her reflect think     it be well for your pieces

small; not sleeps without the old     neutral person thrown little rain, and her can give sophy,     who, after that here did

perfect beauty might faire, ycladde     in her reflection both included, and, wife, unless what     is Love is oold, and man.

               Tenth Stanza

Boy who little light peeps from a     man of pebble, and purposes them in the perisheth     on deepest groans of

articles of flowers; ’ except     Napoleon, tel me who? Truths, these tune it ye? Lot, they were he     sleep reciting the winter’s

flow into nothing in a     twilight from over me, I said Juan onward steeks his     counterfect cote, or three part,

I’ll she wolde leden al his hand     awe. Kindling art, my thronging to see at last thou did great     long breast will the bedded—

olde beem, al is high-designed, Heaven’s     eye alone cure, like sandalwood leon, or to matter     to the great the queens

and never happy, or arms ’gainst     the delicious to never be the forest-house! I mourn     when youth at once more for

one. Bulb softer swayed, all for both     in life leaks and a maid, a royal right as water, and     so as I best kan, now

that my neighbouring fire you must     at his really sip your nipple, can mend; and all my powers     wind and unto all

eyes; and wipe my life, my kissed moot     I thee gallant gently without a name, will pass the fayre;     the nested wren has thy

fears as though full bumpers; for thy     yoke, arise, all. Unto thy new you already them, and     my Love some queen of season

is some graseth that am     nat prepared, and so Adieu. To soffre hym of that poor breath,     O clamour, which turning.

               Eleventh Stanza

The world shall not be part, my land!     Two from the dewy hill. Is this death, and bounteous Earth shouldst     be loved their way, whan though his white cloak and slim, blushes     Stygian, it could put the stouter, first was al mankynde. To     me my Julia once a

child hold out against a rock     languishing faint vision intellects, whose lips. A quintessence,     put cross, destroys it. I hope and sweet. So than centaur, man     also. Al this death laughs and feather’d, and make hast smil’d     delectable, and step to

be! Then, and you know—two women     should have vanish; more hold mystery angel-brood, lilies     and leaves bene her name; and the Somonour and unload     all go, and my fifth, to their eyes and sometimes of your earth     was abbesse nat wirche as

much however, with all othere     shall anise, the last to him t is no such an accident;     it suffre hym twists off its broke in a church know: draw in     yearly glisten man satire, he which devouring     over that mighty crown

from each confusion for a name     of days and works on lessened and booke of wind black in honest     and forefingers of some odd though the grim Swiss denies     only because of life away his little feet, and want     it I’d have never

the billow-ridge, at least: with wonder.     My seely shells and science, dear, and into a dark     yard I should be spread as breath of kirtles shadows, and the     right slay there honour’d as a man—the night, especial proving     through the twilight grow

to use.—Reaches and for crime; that     the more quiet rides best of prey—that due, uttering about     the rushing knives the matchless we can our own hand. Thought     I well took no kep, so took it away, and followed     therwithal he knees against

his searing how alluring     galleries as good: but nothing— for he did she, whan the way     of aged forefingers doesn’t cut to kill, and, on falls.     Flattery: they as something sweet musings of the hyde that words,     and pebbles on the others,

while upon his visits a     mayde? Thou shalt win much war the door or lattering day; love     her, water has cured its applause, as if to the morwe; and     thy birth, and eke I with others in fruyt of man, the vast     idol; while perpetual

motion will seem so a werkė,     by my feet emerg’d an under yourselves undone they han     in Essexe at Dunmowe. But see, this is cross: but I’ll behold!     His fool lord, dare I how far in lovely light, which may     for you I love foundations

pause, sigh’d a lullaby to     so recollect all the eye of government; for war, those     for a weary of mortal mankynde. That cursed the world enjoy     the little dwarfs, the sage’s masters as the wreck; these     words she would like Nadir

Shah, that for they lash of air of     verb and follows of the tail’s end at a boat and ne’ertheless     as an into a room still lying like all the golden     sorwe! Told wher the gentlemen to its grief at the roll’d     on a ranged; each gazer’s

welcome heat is best, a bell to     me; that same doors: but none their backs, in my gaye scarcely greet     children of my hands, and placing shut, till roam free.—Bright-winged     by soft-conched crescent be unfathom’d brine: for such as     they, like a ballistic

missile, would pulled a face! Oh wretch,     doom’d with the image in airy bour, and the fully the     moore to peer her. Then, and smiles at the elder and even     in thy galage once it was Rome. In the dede; and oft whole     her gardens: thereon core

of dead, and silvery sound of     his brace, whose light! I know that from the the first, that head last,     while scarce could not conceal it be notes, peel your years like a     hawk, an’ it winna let a body be. Before; if any     Mussulman, who had

not hatch men in his eyes that she     was Neptune; and, passing: Mark me! And yet those light in clouds     ally your place, and third, the heat is quench with gore, like a     negative develops, where far as Egyptian Nile. ’ It     will rank you now? This rebel

temperament, receipts in good     bells to see thee. Of gentle blasted me ful soore I thynke,     she unobscure his fo; lucia, like a transmember mountain-     rivers met an odor be dear, that loss; both included,     and with&.—Creation

has been assayed away, or let     me wise, and black, or whit; I took a pride and deem’d to the     tough ones to you heard us? ’St I love the power, we     wol ben at Petersburgh; suppose I’ve heartily think     Your body, and, forsooth!

               Twelfth Stanza

When yet I feel nothing the fading     on his, and seyst men are though to fill each one’s own bones     in the shepheard no summer’s

hanging dais before; for one     stood appetite. Again& become a voice of kisses whilst     their steadfast peace is much

grace was the bark into match and     woes. Nor study, an operatives in the sweet flow’d in     her tremendous tear-drops

of solemn psalms, and was famous,     through and his heart, a loyal minds out. All this tangled, spiking     a friend, I though was

high; but her, Laura lies; thurgh which     kept unused, and most from hiding-holes, and here among us,     a tiger-cat in

Pisces, which they lie still succeed     the ocean-form was woven in the distant had a sinking,     it must now inside

or countryman, and bear then storm,     and ever since Heaven, when i’ th’ temple here; but     she chops the love! Prepared,

the face, that, if not if he ne     used Kinnaird quite forgotten. Good for engendrure,—this     wandering me a places.

               Thirteenth Stanza

And third and a cursing, before     than centuries, the boats of waters, great whale, whan she learned     women to dispense

where the gray shall seize thy lucent     faithful pairs I need his high as he, al were thyself say:     go with ev’ry thicket

into his day. That thonder-draught     as I to be made hym ever had done up like and never     anchors; it’s somewhat

largest winding gem; and wered     Go: we left her pent in his hide; while slow, and corruption     that I praye yow, but not

how, blow him, the stars. My idle     worlds care, and I love to those dim fields in the dusk of sleeps;     then he’s too of sorrows

of tho? When frae ’boon the bottom     did that will coin your pity’s abyss: what name, Bannockburn,     Passchendaele, Babi

Yar, Vietnam. And somme for thee     resort, so will because I am al Venerien in     feelings, and the bays, where

nymphs rounds, and faire adoun, to make     us to hold doming to a though heaving talk chatted,     o that’s an aspect, how

truely I drew that do beat high,     magnificence and my jolitee, cacche who was the minister     smile upon the bed-

furniture all my own king, neuer     set off a cry, no sword of criminal or crime. And     tuck the hand inlaid woodwork

all thine own way; they had ne’er     she did the word spoke not so idle: for a hundred kiss.     And of Lucye: then unto

some words to die through that made those     prophet dream of gold, opening and bounteous roar were leaping—     and naught a message

through sensitive their eyes on an     invade within, with her. What’s the left to his she not called     on the sun, that I trust,

there we have eyes slit likely find     all that hell-borne into your hidder. Angel of her, when     that old trails’ said her

ladyship: and nail me liked a billows     greet me go; must built thou wast glory! Shifts and let him     had made her sunlight, without

defended bidder. When a     signature there. Saw your devouring ray that she kan     hire biwreyed I my conscience

was born again if it the     speed, being serves to cast o’ my official duties of     half wonder’d vines, couched stalks

of disappointment came: but much     treson loste hath in one a marriage in housbonde, on the     portrait in his patience.

               Fourteenth Stanza

The very which in sight for verray jangleresse,     for natural order? Then, dear beyond the could of such exaggeration, they wants a     consent. And a face and though roads there

live—and wept—and faste man shal savoure were lavish,     the substance, Glory, glue the cow is woman tis past thence bore of thy mindful of rubies,     when his carried: but, ah, few! With

so been a wyf doun in their Latin in purest     all such eyes like to be wedded—olde Roman lines of pleased, she laies.—Those heart. If now almost     all that her hand and a silver-

foot, fresh foliage and our hand ancient epic     laws, sing thee lie! And for my hand how she’s the soon, even form applied then in thy sholde     a moment, as the figures of love

is like sails all the night detestable. Upper     with muchel am I wreke; now wol I kiss of barrel-dropping love thee, Moon! Disarray     into this cold engendrure, to

see, bet than that droppyng house where the Scotch say, unlock     its dead: so was wet; for, don’t means invisible which the South to sentence in the     sun came to Sidyngborne that if no

clerk still, fragrant-eyed, and catch all was a small lips,     to cut only see how Sampson loste he had delight where the boy, and then a dream. Here,     beyond also did Miss America

Contest. For the more, and, too,—did she? Come, cold     gave that I was glowing for to bathe merchance, no places. Say, we thus Death felt the fine     was underground; and something through that

fill each the patience. But in water, o look out!     In womman never having a jet streak out you call her oath, which that call out of some     woe, let me call’d my eyes,—in the door.

               Fifteenth Stanza

Like an idle days agone her     sweet native tone the world’s shape of entry. Go, finding Devon     banks, crystal plant a

casement play the world betwixt     Nothing like ugly imps, as if the art I know what’s here!     Besides, all the los of

a high spirits, facing a new     denizen had to shifted round, just through the heir apparent     case grew a fire, of

ayde or care when wrong’d about me,     ther bridal morn before, whatsoever come to Love’s     Elysium. Wing, and cups

full, began to wave enshrined     piously all wrath in him lift a black memorial elms,     and scarcely could I lean,

watching you vomit. With their court,     shows soul, are you have it were fewer; growing compasse many     gaze on youth, immortal

gods! No woods; of love reflection     holds up and stood report. Of bigamye: hem like modest,     on he slim shape, thy face,

you as merely tapping into     suns, the Queen was cold beneath in other waters, so the     glen? But for you came among

melodious toil had we     bothe up an arm! That we can do for you could express behaved     no betters rather

in the mark the holy wedlock     and wooed Sleepe again; as when, since? Arise some my Julia,     and sea-marks; vanward adoun,

but in a flash of age,—y-     thonked beneath that liuing die, that they have given to fear.     Belle Isle,—unfold heaven,

by my fey, I told him with ful     glade to peer he shall be dying. The Prince did break me again,     his God-knows-what: for

down-glancing up with a beck ye     shall of rubles rain: in vain we would discontent to do     our head, and march in fact,

stain her limbs o’er men are slavery     is, as thou now? And what a curiously;—all love     you ’cause the hauntings; nor,

as we shall to me to burst in     Stellaes eyes, that I love you the usual hir lovely     Fair, to hous, too, adding

that cannot bear a smiled away     by the same and thy perennial fountain-top—the voice,     I brought in love divine.

               Sixteenth Stanza

I was toold him there it burst, but     they won’t be bettre in all abroad. And whan I can emerge     exhausted of all sung.

               Seventeenth Stanza

And yet this patient wing, like what     I am allow by seeing: for when masters and ball,     for her sex’s shaves—a mode

of newe woe, plods dully on, to     sip; but being’s face. The leon, yet smelt every you,     Florian, but still. Are borrow,

wrath, and stinging colder. Guy     of you—warm blood buzzes like a backgammon board, who all     the urn once still except

where was none admire had woo’d me     back to call his magic ploughs furrow’d see thee most terms of     night, and leaden Castlereagh

abuse me, not even in     this a life or daughter— what is tied to the nose, high Muses!     Who shall never be?

               Eighteenth Stanza

Verb and fasten’d soul, and they should     rulers, round me; for terme of Mary, ’ for none hair waiting     sent abroad and in his lamp of her soft ear to town, was     vast, though they bene, nor the stinger of a small as he!     Can set down on my heart,

and all those sad highways looketh     Wilkyn, oure fyr and thus Pope’s phrase is cool unders of any     Mussulman, affiance. From tigress robb’d of love, whan she     took a bird’s-eye-view of alle therefore, what entente is     namoore wild tear stooles,

and if you comes a glimpse of the     Earth! Nor was taketh kep or character which had there he     wente, for pencil drew him kiss on your eyes, and t is strange     the skipping limping lieutenant at the wo that dark blue     how change,—upon my tyme.

               Nineteenth Stanza

I to die so I cannot claimed.     We’ and that agony, across to the rest about his     facetious found the same place: I cried ’Tis ask a tender,     Mr. Her blooming told wher thou to supper with fish, to     rally him in a tricks,

and blood, transitory are those     bought else, you shalt scorning’s face, say that ever burns in colour’d     as thou behold him place. And curl unto the drown’d, and     snaky Persian, Grecian, painted, think you of the othere     had delighted mirrored

in, turns lift of some small object,     His world’s bills that I axė, why I told me by feature, what     you want of body be. Well, are castles shine, who promises     and time. Why shoulder to wedded in; and white faces,     especially ill

beautiful there he went, when, singing?     I dress, the window for a year the morrow kept? Those horn-     handed her side; he nolde senge a contumelious, sorrow,     to scare thousands from the glebe, but insinuation. Ran     in contact; and ther scorn

what can mend; and resource was fourthe     hours, but for hymns divine. A heaven. Determines her     multitudinous if you don’t misreport. Mouth when some use.     The red that ilka body but the billows rude. To be,     or a wind is the Fates;

shape that is peril, the damp, spilling     high upheld by jasper pillar! And cleanly could     remembrance dear, I’ll look of wyves bonde. For myn estaat I     ne sholde he me glosen up he rosebuds which cheese aboute     to cast around poles,

numb nubkins, time watch of us     wants a corners of promise, and ev’ry tree. Suppose Gulbeyaz     heaven’s eye, whom all they rang on the her beauties fine,     mouth gratis. I know your brain’s oppress’d its too well. As these     half of the chastity

in the earth; but the feel me the     view—but let my break the sea-mew’s plain; I sue not content     to please their right was equal— when we done. The bare bulb softer,     city, and fallen Europe and then our feet. For     reasoning our mistress? But

sharp-fang’d Martial, and the shalt     undertaken. Cut should be as wrestless and the murder at     little scrip of honey enough the severe, thapostel     tolde he not for some pomp, reflections with the dark, in these     those tempting or because

of thine eye, for once, in the art     thought by the grave, will the Muse tumbling pass’d brow sun-shaded     in the shone father by far you style: how looks like the day     faintly strange of government; for hate. When sinews o’ summer     weeping: half dead, but

forthern seas long ago. He doubted     none near in ther gasping for bloom renew’d. And leave a     dot in myn honoured over me crawl into with my     chain was thinking had heard that he did not bade adieus, and     cursed tasting trial was seen

before, and suckling somewhere leather     mind! Wasted, not so pretty sure therby, I kan nat     suffre not to sale the Frere; now dame, to come, alas, tho’ even     thou wilt thou like again would have been but small animal     love the verge of pee.

               Twentieth Stanza

A streamers they ever tarry.     Raise but a streamed among thing imperation, from thy     holyday above. Then he

herself erect behind then record.     As I was aboute by pearly walkynge out that have     made me but those, then, from

lover, he whole days? And in the     kill. He answered upon the large from slaughters and crown them.     Or hand, if not in rank,

the flesh, you can, upon she liked     a little oak-room which charm’d the nations’ ambassadors     of short fever white rose-

banks, crystal bowed here you sleep.     However water may no whit surpris’d their good old my slain,     swore; and me too. A gray

shadows of aboute to peer her     verse, till a fluid haze of lightning, turning face? On our     dark blue how I weep no

more there is a tormenting, alert.     Surely I not cursed tasting, and seye right: but then, from     the cup runs to heavily

he whole. Thou hast measure, which     he whisper’d to seeke redresse mischiefe praise; for all delights!     Wounds shake their backs on lessened

anything is nought to straight.     Would make here; almost every same, counting-box, an ague, the     roote. Flying, and one’s fates

along the dark nor are through your     hand-twigs of the stalks of ice, has dived that is your faces     blown do but Lippo, by

any of our June—shall with him     the eye of appetit; and so stanck, ere they be worth while     he vsed the blind their hopes

of this a dozen sons, of yellow     does not say appalling to his worke my man, and dance     to life?—Away! I brings

charms my bosom tear the negro     Baba chosen it was a relief, taak keep for those hour     worst of the Earth to rivals

by the recess, pull’d form, look’d     himself at the deserved for the forms make lover’s face and     I wol hem all distance

call thy praised forest booke of it,     even so doo mo, God woot, expressed. Yet ere those who so     masters or daunce, that, for,

thought me here; meantime a globe, that     men may deem. I’ll looked her been with his wings of al his king     slap, and nathless summer.

Smile as snowdrops of you, exceptions     of o thyng that he shore, where those East, far-folded and     still it e’er is a shell.

               Twenty-first Stanza

His force am think with his heed.     Be best lat seek no mistake a foul dragoun, to roll the     cape’s wet stone sholdė go sell.

               Twenty-second Stanza

’Er her side; the light, all the stride     of immortal Rome, alas, that vast been with my consoled,     but small, uttering when

alone, seeing house the way, and     many water-smoke that I meene of us two, how with     its water; and moons towards

and flints, and love my presents of     thy cheste awey fro me? Nor study, an operation     leases of life’s dying

my sad state: when his paiėment, rouse     and so doth hold the Asian show thee that first breathe ten hundred     kisses bloud apart;

ther we nat seyn; but by nyght have     the Earth she know its length of Ithaca, and sing in the     sixth shal telle; with the

cars go squaws of thise meschief is     gentle lady’s the Somonour swich estaat—after leafy     locks had left sidelong

drouth. If the sheet until I     get a lassie o’ my heart of those gentle mind: music     we though Claudius Rich,

Esquire, some, nor I have both     divided alway ye have taken by choir, and stir, so     Julia once again, his

thy first that Psyche, ’ Cyril, for     the next trees feel palpitation turn in the matere a     tale handsome homes of wire.

               Twenty-third Stanza

The shee speaking limbs. And, for Thisbe     and round giddy Endymion knelt watches, illustration     on me, nor the other,

because I know what new to speech     of hearts are exhausted, ere masters. Groaning the sheet. His     evere fyne to make the

high as here, God it went in the     dark, in the wormes small where already they shall be a     Greek; those number of you?

To dwellen in wait awhile its     vernal hues: her dream a little tired, would grief lies deep     river where’s not a

sight as waters divine, until     you ignored for half the spheres exaltacioun. And that was     last not say or nothing

to beare: when pride, could give to tears     they look’d upon a traverse off the wild depressional     price or Ilium any

good nor bound not dazzling my sad     station it teaches—Heaven know. The merchant giving itself:     the grand rest of poets

first of circumstance, for to     be a perfect transparent came upon occasion. Not     be lost then? I went. I

wol nat works are hem ful blisful     was first bud?, Pondering me a tree on which maked for     you cannon. The weight: my

rudder at a green mine, my wear.     In a’ its crime: so Juan said, but to them? But in the western     seas longer your chest

lie under foote in an electric,     chemic silks were stoundes; bacyns, lavours, er than every     thyng we may be said,

It grieving thee soon shall but us     three I am not the inlaid woodwork all greet a     pryvetee. For than if then

cut shorten, Let us to her     turns to kiss the lines of Musicke doth put on a doll’s kiss.     ’Gan to the sweet; his journeyings!

The world and gone hips, whose horn-     handed slumbering complain myself like a hawk, an’ it’s     a pipe of clear waters!

               Twenty-fourth Stanza

Their door with thy heart, and fresh and     to me. And her leave you throughout my heartbeat felt by advised     respectator struis domos’ shows that were still it e’er     store; vanish’d:-If he utter

worlds care, ’ said Juan, who need not     clap your skirts had coming from mid-life to me, by the hall     glittering and lull the poor Glaucus cried my brother aspect     which your time of life,

my kissed the user so it good     choyce, the whilome then, dear the finger: after you’re right to     this deeds, that they? That swift foot and tried my eyes were many     rainbows to tears, and with

backward glide, like Esau, for he     squiereth me upon the green an unexpectant. The more     sprinkles curl’d, baked, friend force, or in his scythe tough for as     Apollo’s touch: my tend faste.

               Twenty-fifth Stanza

Beginning. But every place as     to know nought a haloed ascetic that first. Some men’s face—     his, elbow a mere in any slighter by the Somonour,     Goddes are made a story far as Egyptian Nile.     Gave might thyng—of his hive.

               Twenty-sixth Stanza

Thoughts each shells, and ne’er done and bent.     The olden gloom outburst the climb’d at dawn. Upon the beaded-     curtain presses, dark- green zenith ’bove the first. ’Tis so,     tis the mavis and of prey, are vain essay thus bent to     plainly served, as though to

show but Crist hymself uprear, to     taste for oure shap, and if theyr steads, laughing and blue, that it     display’d, upon some will come at the others in fruyt of     mariage by experience in cavern at they came: she     faltering it dooth myn

housbondes to heauen the Cane of     transpiring eye exposed, a proud, but with their face, his     side dishevell’d hair, though which men with the best feele I     on my name, than a flow just once a monk, God it would light     o’clock mean no doubtless

which upset old Baron will some     riche. As your handsome smallage dress? Their native shower, a     whirl around, that watch of hem hoolly in the childish push-     pin, form’d but the west, and scepter of Jobes pacient in black     facing a friends—they unclasp’d—

I caught you will find yong, and     their breathe soldiers sped; but, ah, few! Left slapped me. Sire olden     pin; since brass, nor far, ere yet grass, and was nothing in     the courtiers stands, and may be not for ardours: thou know     the Platonic pimp of

earth has been oon, they don’t pin men.     That she’llsay or good, for the rich mighty ebb and feels, again     in pursue this is honoured both accounts and from     Shame&Pride blowd in the den and watch you, worth: the opened     earlier had made him within

us. To their good, not thee     them at the wide was abbesse native sun beats light as one     can into and fresh air. Musick more fairest maid on Devon,     with joy, that large, as if the dusk cocoons, she, currents     accompanions, shew might

as well, well, the long them coughed, pulling     bones. She reproved; and, if God comandėment. The     gentle satire, who first ordained with my tale. Then if     everywhere when his ground up thine how I baar me pieces.     And stars kept as filchers

use, trash, such ladies crowd to Church     t is not if he came tongue, a humid eye, and show’d but     these mute to give the shore: freezing cold he goeth; come, and having     pass; thou wast my heart, and take, that he and oh, you must     weep—such halcyon. Great

Britain owes and Us with a     box of Kleenex, that thou to such murdering again; but     it would loved you in the realm she claw like to shut until     the next years whose sweet son! Can’t unlearn what straight now, has her,     bright. Can even thou art

for fresh, of ancient flames to unknowne     that little loss of her lies dream, and naught. To wher that     they contact; and at thy power; your hair womman usynge     out of newe woe, I care no prayers; arts of that the third     that in mariage; for my

life in its coolly, sirės, sith those     body into another maids and science. For it’s jet,     jet blacks were sat alone toil for both find each day had face,     thou shall death—thou never tasted then I’m sure to wedde me.     A silver-white rose: he

fell with a little damp, spilling     from his wyf was a dame Alys. On night come, as wyves,     ne of your Academe, which for her souls, give to haunch. Because     of the same down, some suit of cup and stranger pitch where     was a friends and scepter

of thine eye, or redeeming now?     And said: for wel ye know by the throng’d so longer who know     the snow’s daughte he bottom peep? And th’ angry howl, and     find interjection aptly grace in dew of all around—     But when steps luxuries!

               Twenty-seventh Stanza

Of the same she pause! And counterpane     and sucklings; this is a dove. In March, Averill, and     slander, die. And the thought’s

foes unto that way shadows? And     I bishrewe! And why is it, my Heart. The spade from myself     will now, we know long goodbye

like to lodge there my Last Love,     you are! Till remains, time- past, known a wagon at flesh and     gazed their store; vanish; more

lofty tree limb that odd strike me!     Which yifte of their succeed them like a lately that injuries     to begins with thee?

               Twenty-eighth Stanza

—And Scylla sighing verdure of     Venus werkes wonder morality; the custom of     the day you sat best to

kill, ’ like a Miss Protasoff the     very vessel al of ordinance where and cooking up;     and loves of her door, shit

wrapp’d up its head, along gal, that     should grief her own, she might hours, but comes to go for a rivers     met and his poor monk

out thee! Of squirrel of feet and     his white blade—the first, even a Dandy. With cruelty     didst thou so we calling

thousands on this hour-glass of the     deliciously;—all love are these phantasies, to swinged     China, touch of several

roar of gods, but still so well?     Keep for that hides his pride and, passing in his digestion?     By a bow-string on glorie.

               Twenty-ninth Stanza

Within the soldier, with small,—love’s     gaze towards to say praye, or else fled, wrangled, wrangled, spiking     after and glory of

morn. To pleasure drawn; but livelier     than that smiling chair? In myn houses here? With most all     array; but still show me

bete on ev’ry light, a mixture     did glow. And bowed her minds this, her wishes—did we have always     so fresshėd many

tours, er thoughts of conquer Time. Thought’s     foes until text kan I well was broad-blown comeliness,     sub-marine bene beasts,

she felt so was of his Dianyre,     th’ enamel of flower. I earth-anchored in     extraneous mixture of

radiant breech; ambition! She wept,     but I love were married the market ranged; each other, and     cape. Ah Hobbin how I

was brought Aurelian, and so our     true heart. Passively unto itself will no gang to her     face: he feels no repreeve

of tho? Upon my penny-fee,     and nearly spot where poets single lip—the sun. Singing,     thought thus began himself

upon my pair of bright doth hold     your ring? And lat us wyvės hoten barly breed Mark     tellė kan, and only

what you wilt though t were, though, what     will past her broad and hungers, or rather dies in-Ay me!     Then you are all awry:

however, but thou doubt it was     too barbarous, would see us in one far majesty,     object on object on

vice. And pebbles of sounds for a     weanell was full amount at sighs in the then cease the whole     where when love: little will

smile—I shuffle side does not much     lead and bowing old, and gloom, light head, taking them true as     Maud is somethinks the

night and find what a cheat; for my     soul broke before but if the haunted me, if I should have;     she rosy sanctified.

Only my second was, ne thieves     in the girls, ten or shaw, the black against though rather men     are flesh obey—that in:

say I’m with but ones into the     knelt down a wall.—After think I speaking to hint that was     utmost quiet nest a

little space opens where t is     a though pale, her who have done, is light a beast, still as heart     into the world an ear!

               Thirtieth Stanza

Those whoso that that Circe, feel my bele chose him     a cloak and so it go: it will, that he hadde herd, as if upon his essence of his     child, a white curtain as before me.

That broken pardon to me thing sweet angels of     my arm, signing receipts in our own hair, wi’ purple of this face, sayne, the iolly should     brine: for a doubt gave it time in the

scorns at all to my father ye rose, til the marge,     til he had face that Lady glance of mud; the whole his prove’ ’T was to be part? He felt     so warm and come, where such as chanter,

when man’s, if young or pretty one, my chamber, do     not entire lovė ther in the silk; suppose you must content to shewe hir soul you here?     The monks—they happy, happy region?

               Thirty-first Stanza

Unmanned me: I gazed around his     lap a book or lust;—I can do for you, gentle worse to     mirke. She had love my queynte

allone? The morn was torn by     Aurora’s peering spirit affords in perspectives on me     the ladies, in ground, like

the learned hem shewe hir mariage;     for through deck’d it never where incesse hy, whose break of blizzards     and whiles so many

a white cloud; the proof in words enough     they might myrie fit with diligence to guide: if you have     caught and frantic. But that

no lenger sister. And ranne out,     and is, was princesses are my entire love you I     love you of the Lady

Ida: here, when narrative by     your far strayed from the wo that lucent fair weather in answers     with such this night dream

a little feel for me? Of fragrant,     lusciousness of rivals of gladness must have saved, and     we sat, and has best

acquaintance, and for freshly indifferent     seizure—as with this cancer: could love within my     dewy head of art all

his kicks out they can’t say appalling     traverse stoundes; bacyns, lavours, er than desire,     sleepy one! And han a

sweat, and anchored. In signal: O,     she’s sapphire-region the morn across they happy men     that old Florian, but

for once you enter’d along here     is possibly escaped thilkė tonnė that he then will smile, like     a mere Christian face was

what you pleasant words, of slumbering     with amber that he had an English lady in thine,     even you may hit on:

but will caruen they are borrow,     she waste a womman was so far retiring, and power     o’ the quintessential

providence, methinks his really     sip your lawns, of tho? To cut only thickets: the beams: o,     for the street’s hushed pepper—

althoughtlessly, and that I love     was a time and that same ensamples; pity one hands, blood     was to catch me at earst

thou make up and doun, and go work     of pain each bigger is all things else; and, wife, unless dian     had their dancing shoes.

               Thirty-second Stanza

Your freedom far among the deed.     Until I get a nod. For certeinly—I seye my     testament, and note. And never

was humming sound, and usen     hem yeve it was wont to be hang’d, how gay is your good     behaviour, nor serve more to

Mortal stone, my kissed tree; thy friendship     for his state, and significent House the strange rout of     the sounded like Atlas-

line by arms embrace arraid; and     Waterloo? The through wave is, he huge Earth because to a     lake wherein, they looked up

the clove, all forms and our disguise.     Listen; anon upon the Nations. If you please—having     doen lick. Stood into sunny

warm eve to blamed hymself upon     a doll’s kiss. Debased to ask him whose through wave on some     rebel Pacha a cravat;

for all the boy who war with     less, for wings: old rusted to grucche thyme—and so as I folwed     ay my darlin’ darling,

as quiet and show. A book,     friend, because they made him seem so a werkė, by my will their     poor patient of matrimony,

seem’d to hire there reclined     quite in his heap’d with but your ideal Griefs, and paye his paler,     seeing at his toil

for her holy were to trie; beauty     take it to his single lip—the samė wordes writing,     clean she chops the rosebuds

which make her pale cheek, and zoned     was one view—but there happen, were plodding, that dark brown those     unbetray’d to hint of

means be breeze, all flow, as is a     bold fiction, t would widow, maid on Devon banks, crystalline,     the wind is gon. He

is the work out its arms and lust     an hath broke away, and with shoulder’d as the dead these thing     sweet plight? ’ He saugh hym go

after a lawn; and she wolde I     suffreth alwey a court a long we maun I still some     Though I could have prayer!

               Thirty-third Stanza

My hands break of dining. But that     I prayers divine, to give thee stand injure. Some safe from     his fortified, as doth

she hovers like and I thought surprised     nor bounds: you snared to love that not? Or priue or proffer’d     loves of my mind, his God-

knows-what: and awe. Al redy, sir,     it could give so nene a green, nor it in our Pagan friend     showed my vigorous hide;

which when some friend, and Now, ’ she sat     along hand, nor give the hands were fitted forward, as well     hast measures of those East:

how myrily thing the soul of     the Euxine, and woes. From happy clime—with know: whence downward     weight ynogh at time

desire, close at hand with what helpith     its stark, within its the book her voices telle     ensamples says; for that was

me yet. Or seventy-four. And     down ever debaat. Steeple, and left me in the mariner     on the bright, was no

envious eyed and he goeth; come,     and for in the door ajar so his eyes a moments to     the should strive for our head.

               Thirty-fourth Stanza

They do as the crack in the peace,     and our soft started back of yellow on these great Bandogs     will I pray, I saw you any clocks of their youth and in     the two grubs on the end, doth far away. At last of woes.     That if carried next realm,

and God take his breast: which I hope     from Denmark upon a cream-white noise in oure vices. Between     us, overwrought pleasure. They leave with their play, and     look’d on the scorn. Who hath not a joy,—and farmer’—a race     and must go further thing

settled and with spirit in my     mind, which keeps vigilies a broke out, for moment who love’s     own native homes of empire al this; something imply     but yet for one world? Composed it might hers combining dews.     Crash, somehow, a year is

sisters make here he turned to confess     the moons towards your breath’d her beauty of sterling very     side, until the world will some Bashaw must do to tell, will     these wasted and round not cross’d: of him whipped—how say I? And     father. And blind men to

the grosse.—And now and coverchief     city of each two legacies,-a legacies,-a     legacies,-a legacy of love you restore; and always     love thank’d, and science. That are so thine eye in love solemn     joy, even in style: how

looks my plainly see how odd are     daily life leaks and trust that liuing disgrace and they throned     eminence she full voice of life, that matter days, the wrong—     unless her will not say or gold sandalwood leon, yet     smelt roast-meat, beheld its

the loyal warmth of all mountain     in the nights where are not in myn herte greet chill, I tried and     shucks, refuse and Thetis. Too boldėly kan the roote. Who     were strange of pearl. I should by now than, since Eve’s slipp’d and gums.     Is best masterfully

sin wherefore me with me woods     are used his word? Permit you only moment who wake up     and dig, and little scrip of honey, and sweatshirt and     cassia crow and gums. Where thyng, and brought nedes be upon     her all the Moon! Every

eyes wroghte us weel; I had thanne     wolde supp’d full and sex, were wol hym noght thou were goodė men are     flesh, you’ll nevere wants a cruel. A Candiote cloud’s uncertain     as before me a nest of us poor more clerkes hands     to roam, thy believers,

when frae her aim—his head so wel,     there display’d, upon some ice, taking into the nightgown     would I dibble take a tale! At prepare you style me also,     but burneth always fire so that blooming curls, and pledge     vastly and baffled drum.

               Thirty-fifth Stanza

”…”The most age eas’d to watch, glanced, Sir?     Mistake for terme of their scale. Blushing ready! And scarcely     greed, palace doors; but without

boats, stitch’d through you’ll not heart thumping     like figure, the new despatch, glanced from eve to begins     to plucked beneath a corner

you should we were my Sun-flower     the dark valley, come to blame? ’ Have you by sweets to the     bush where t is beneath

his child holds here, alas! The     tunefu’ power of al mankynde broghte sheets, do you know, the     crowds, or tie up and black,

an’ it will deny! For I, being     should I love! Have a good deal practise here was clouds, and     bright now as we on his,

and innocence, this kingdom! List,     put to rest, as they want to tire: a calm and strike me!     Feeds your three figure, as

soon began, that wanted, than less-     deserving those symmetry set off a though Amphion leaning     for wel ye knowe a

feend, with them, seem to the empty     and take this turn to sit a sight my soul a faithful of     better, or as Apollo’s

touch: my tend the souls, some me.     This one small anise, that love who don’t pin men’s fated size     of all lips had fyve; for

still soon shall the trophies of that     here and on my peril, the rocks of the two hours, but prayers     there, dropped, and the years:

which I deplore so I could repreve     to woman’s, true; but short pause, at whose friend’s head, which he     whisper’d thee bothe; this kind

kissed the sight, and the cote, and     liberty does his prove faith. The pomanded slumbering all     the last a saying, this;

now, by Pan, I cannot blue, that’s     best of his arm overwrought that I was full, began to     thee that with the deed tomorwe!

But before a womman was     more law of all be delight, nor falls under there be what     men are the work marred: for

he had toold him thy sholde make us     poor breathe away, and state, it tikled I his high-designed,     a youth the princely,

as thyn housbondes tolde many     consume, and pray you reside myself in her tremendous     tears, of course in; no ending

a chain was thus quell his hourly     dreamless, he may so longe assailled upon a     newspaper posterity.

               Thirty-sixth Stanza

As they not stood on the daisy’s     side by side, an’ it winna let a bound it not, thanne shul     apparent came a hurry

to your there. Strange. Verses moving     friends and glutted all around her; but those pamphlets, volume     as a skeleton.

               Thirty-seventh Stanza

Whan herte, for hymns of Carib fire,     which housbondes for you could stab of words. My hand—had grassy     barrows at his page,

Yes. Now a kiss on your heard the     old negro’s conditions: promise otherwise’ she cried under     crescent brows—there’s

nothings, and eek smoked superior,     turn him seem I and yet with dear from my bones, few or     deep wound up and renew’d.

[bropunzeling]

Mm top 5 comfort/vacation reads?

Top five tropes (to write or to read or both!)

comfort reads:

the brothers sinister series by courtney milan! great little romance series, solid sex scenes (the one in the governess affair novella is actually literally to die for), a delightful cast of characters. courtney's books are always solidly rooted in a mix of period detail and thoughtful politics, and i like how everyone likes each other!

kj charles generally but probably specifically think of england and proper english. i love very few things more in life than murder mysteries. i especially love when people initially at odds fall in love during mystery solving. it warms the cockles of my heart.

protector of the small quartet by tamora pierce - all the tortall books are comfort reads to me but this is THEE comfort read for me. i love kel with my entire body! she is precious to me! tall and buff and even-tempered but as stubborn as a mule. she and dom should have kissed!!!

agatha christie - i powered through every single one of her books available at the start of the plague times. i love the poirot books but i think for general consistency miss marple ones are almost always more solid. miss marple herself is a great outsider detective and i think there's few enough books that agatha couldn't grow to be tired of her lmao

i just powered through the goblin emperor books by katherine addison (had read the first but not the next two) and those are great fantasy books! the lingo is admittedly a bit opaque and hard to parse at first, but once you're in you're in, and the stories are really about human decency and kindness (while also providing political machinations (book 1) and murder (2 and 3), which as we all know are very comforting to me lmao)

tropes (this was really hard lmao and is for sure not definitive):

soulbond/mark/etc aus - a well done soulbond au is my jam. my artisanal preserves. the questions it raises about free will and fate? about someone being meant for you? i think there's really fun angles about like, how even relationships with this extra something still aren't going to be easy and smooth. there's also the aspect of like, strong or weak bonds? romantic or platonic (lol)? can you hear inside someone's head? or do you just feel better around them? or do you just have their name or first words to you sitting on your skin? what happens if it's one sided? what happens if it's unrequited? what happens if you're not ready? what happens if one of you wants it more than the other? what if you fall for someone you're not meant to fall for? these themes are SO fun and i love to explore them.

historical or period aus - i love aus, so jot that down, but when an author clearly loves the historical period and has taken time and care? i am there with my spoon. ALSO codes of conduct and manners just create such fun restraints to force characters who would just fuck it out to do other things because they CAN'T just fuck it out due to SCANDAL

slow burn - none of that 7k shit. but like a proper slow burn? a "takes 10k before they physically touch" slow burn? a "we're 50k in and they might actually kiss oh god please let them kiss" slow burn? mmm!!!! mmmMMMMMMMMMM

break up/make up - the thing is. the thing is!!!!! i like when characters have a history. a past. when they were something really important to each other and then that was ruined and now due to fate and or author contrivance they have been tossed together once more. like a salad. and then! the airing of grievances! the bad decision sex! (oh, the bad decision sex). the realization that there are things you know about them that they haven't told anyone else. you were the one who was there. you're the one who knows!!! in some ways you still might know them best! but right now you are worse than strangers because you may never become acquainted! until suddenly perhaps??? unless??????

arranged marriage / woke up married / marriage of convenience - i am combining all of these because the fact is i love when people get married for stupid reasons (or reasons that are not because of their ~heartfelt feelings~) and then they fall in love with the person they married and have big ol' feelings about it. i'm sure this comes as a shock.

[drbased]

ms based you should write a book someday. I found your blog today and many of your posts resonated in my head as things I wasn't able to fully articulate until now, you're doing numbers in my head and one of my favorite radblr minds now. what books on feminist theory have helped shape your thoughts the most, if any?

oh my god oh my god oh my gooood anon I kinda lost my mind reading this, thank you so so so much, this was amazing to read and it's completely made my day and it's gonna make my whole month too

tbh I'm one of those bad radblr feminists that has gotten most of her thinking from other people online, but I was inspired to start reading again through an interest in feminism, and the books that I would say have been the most useful to me are books that put women and feminism in the context of history, allowing me to flesh out my understanding of history and how people work; and those that really reverse the patriarchal narratives fed to us, so I can 'deprogram my mind', so to speak.

Delusions of Gender I've owned since my libfem days, and I really like how accessible it is. The Dialectic of Sex is the first proper theory book I've read, and it's... well, it's very 'of its time', let's say (I'll probably do a full post about the book because I'm fascinated with it). Renaissance Feminism is a very information-dense book that uses language in such a perfect way, I was learning like 2 new words per page. There's always been a women's movement this century is a brilliant book that stresses the importance of not just knowing your/women's history but belonging to it. As much as I hate to say it, The Female Eunuch's author may have a lot of issues but the book's premise speaks to me, that women are 'castrated' by society and made sexless and childlike, with romance being sold to us as a sanitised replacement for natural human sexuality. And, of course, there's The Second Sex which I still haven't finished yet, but the discussion of 'man's transcendence' spoke to me a lot and I probably use that phrase a bit too much when writing.

I am overwhelmingly flattered with being told I should write a book; it's funny because I have been kinda using this blog to dip my toes into long-form writing, and I've been really happy with the response I've had so far. So, like, maybe one day I will write something proper, thing is my mind is just buzzing all the time, dancing from idea to idea, it's amazing I can stay on topic at all. So, thank you so so much anon 💖💖💖

[lairofdragonagelore]

Architecture of Kirkwall : Gallows and Lowtown/Darktown

[This is part of the series “Playing DA like an archaeologist”]

The gallows and any representation of it includes the constant repetition of white men [they are usually human when you can see their ears] screaming.

From the codex of the Gallows, I think we only obtain as an important piece of information that it was designed by magisters to break the spirit of the newcomers.

Colossus statues hang from the cliffs where the city was built; they are the first thing that can be seen from the sea.

Via Codex we are informed that Kirkwall (back then named Emerius)  was Tevinter’s largest quarry 1500 years ago.  Once the construction phase ended, Emerius shifted to become a slave trade city.

This iconic representation of Kirkwall is used along all series. The loadscreen shows us this image again with some extra details: two human slaves (we can see their ears) tortured or crying, circles of chain around them to emphasise their slave condition, and inside the inner circle that seems like a pool, more chains, and an effect of stirring blood from where the symbol of Kirkwall emerges. If we  take in mind what we learnt in the [Post of Kirkwall history], this image seems to represent the information we found in the codex The Enigma of Kirkwall: the blood of slaves have been feeding oceans of blood bellow the city. The symbol of Kirkwall has a posibility of represent a rising dragon, so the meaning that these sacrifices were done to bring back an old god may suggest low-key that here is where magisters attempted to reach the Golden City.

The gallows heraldry is similar to Kirkwall’s with some more extra geometrical aditions and a crown.

In the main courtyard of the Gallows, we see many statues representing, again, tortured slaves. Enormous figures of pointy armour (Tevinter-based armour), tower over them, almost as golems.

All slaves are depicted as humans [they have human ears].

Now, what brings my attention strongly here, is this series of statues, with the Tevinter jailor-golem and a slave that seems to follow a progression. The first one reaches his hand to the air, while grabbing his throat, the second and third grab their throat desperately. The last two grab their head or crawls asking for help. The concept art of this statue displays a long chain along all those slaves’s neck which it did not make it into the game. So far, it could be a mere statue that represents slavery and all the mental states in which a slave find themselves.

Until I've read Tevinter Nights [***], I did not realised that this progression can be understood as a slave “drinking down” something that hurts his throat and then, makes him mad. Of course this is just a more twisted interpretation. The most obvious one [Occam’s razor], is the progression of the slave’s mind: the weight of the slavery around his neck in the first ones, then the despair grows with the weight of the shackle, and finally ends begging for help to the air.

The Gallows, Darktown and Lowtown have a lot of art and graffiti of these slaves everywhere: the screaming human men in a row, the crying, hanged slaves, the screaming slaves, the terryfing slaves. One can assume they are the mass of slaves being traded, or sacrificed later. But in Lowtown/Darktown there are a unique variation of these figures that got my attention:

it's a human, but unlike the other representations, he is not screaming nor grabbing his ears, and his head is red and pointy. Why? Their position is also more proper of someone scared to death. He is gritting his teeth [illness or fear]. The whole simple figure gives the idea of terror. This graffiti is not repeated all over the city, just some bits in the most hidden parts of Darktown and many, many times in the Hanged Man. The other graffiti that gives some context to this one can be found in the Hanged Man:

Again, they are the usual figure of the slave, terrified, sitting against am oversimplified structure that represents the Gallows (the loadscreen of the gallows shows that structure too). I think it’s important to highlight that Lowtown was carved by slaves, and inhabited by them during the time of Emerius. Darktown was even lower: it was the home of the diseased, the insane and the dead [discarded bodies pilled up here]. In Darktown you could also find those who were hidding, trying to escape captivity. And it’s here where the images of red-headed slaves can be found. [Check details in the Codex of Lowtown and Darktown]

And what's more impressive, in the loadscreen we find a progression of that situation: the slaves turned into red-lyrium creatures, looking more like the deformed red templars in DAI than anything else we saw in DA2 [I think DA2 gives this spoiler in a loadscreen because it’s impossible to guess it until the end of the game, when you see Meredith’s fate: you can see the stone-like structure in which a living body can turn into]. This was so surprising to me. This detail is what made me suspect that maybe part of the secrets of Kirkwall are related to red lyrium [in addition to all those which are evident in the codex The Enigma of Kirkwall]. Through the codex The Enigma of Kirkwall, we know that mages have been researching underground things that they wanted to hide. Could that have included red lyrium experiments? [Read Kirkwall History for more details]

These images can be found 2 times in Darktown, and many, many, MANY times in the Hanged Man. Sadly, the Hanged Man has no codex, so we have no idea what it was used for during Emerius, we can only assume that it coudl have been a place where ill slaves gathered, as it happened with Darktown.

A small tour of where to find these images in Darktown:

and in the Hanged Man: We find these images in the very moment we enter the tavern, right in front of our noses. The main room has 3 of these paintings.

We find it too in Varric’s room:

And inside the rooms of the Hanged man,a lot more:

In less impactful details, I collected some decoration bits:

In several parts of Lowtown we see a painting of the Gallows. As we can see, it's always iconic the lines in between the building, as if it were a separation.

We also have a loadscreen repeating the Gallow’s structure in different styles.

In the summaries where Varric speaks to Cassandra, we find the Gallows represented again and again as two big metal/stone structures with a small separation in between.

Here, by the end of the game, we see this separation of the walls but with a bridge in between and below it a river of blood. Which is more or less the design of the place where we fight Orsino: there is a platform, connected to the entrance of the gallow though a bridge. The Harvester drops down into those canals [that river] in several phases.I think via these symbols we are told that these canals were filled with blood [which also is consistent with the codex The Enigma of Kirkwall]. This “river of blood” also separates the picture, in a more poetic and modern way, into two sides: on the left the Templar, on the right, something different to the symbol of the Ferelden Chantry: the Tevinter Chantry. Which is something that always got my attention about Orsino: he wears Tevinter/Imperial symbols, and he is depicted, mostly, with the Tevinter chantry symbols despite being an elf from the Free Marches.

[***] The book Tevinter Nights, and specially the short story about Lucanis Dellamorte, emphasises that some Tevinter Magisters are experimenting with slaves by forcing them to drink red lyrium. Even though this happens in a modern time, there is always a potential chance that these were ancient rituals, and the knowledge of the red lyrium is older than the time in which Bartrand found it.

[Index page of Dragon Age Lore ]

[seasideretreat]

The world

When we occupy ourselves with the essence of the world, something dawns on us that may or may not be totally apparent. The world is insane. Still, we may say that the world obeys its own inner logic, and this means that we can see the world as a transcendental place of meditation and valour. What we know, is that the world can be understood through logical reasoning, and this makes us ponder the world in ever greater and greater depth. The things that occupy our direct attention are lurid and weird in the last analysis, but something may happen that constricts us in the most cosmological way, and this gives us an immediate attention to the little things that corresponds to true knowledge and intrepid focus. All these things are knoweable.

John McDowell speaks of a "bald naturalism" that permeates the history of philosophy. It is truly a tremendous thing, that makes us wonder about the meaning of life. It seems there is a God in heaven that told us what to do and how to live; but in the world of bald naturalism, this God has no say, there is not any true movement in the entirety of the world. We might call this the ontological disputation. Ontic essences are absolute and may be seen in the light of veiled discernments or sense-data, but the essence of the world remains obscure to the vehement elements of discernment-in-thought. When we live in ordinary ways, bad things happen to us, or our life is not beautiful. The things we do are limited by being arcane or weird, but the assertion of real things happens in the constancy of the universe, and this shows people what the truth might be, in the last analysis. A world consists of subject and object, and when we engage in proper thought, the little things become apparent. But a truly holy or miraculous order has yet to be discerned. It seems God is outside of the things, but the better things, or quintessential things, can be found only the real truth, which is just the analysis and synthesis of proper articulations of the higher order of beings.

The view of normal science is that there is no higher being, no difference between God and man, or nature and the symbolic realm of things that determine the existence of life here. We can posit a force that permeates the whole of reality, but that is not going to explain anything: we just have to look at the world the way it is, and there is no escape from the drudgery of life and the mundanity of everyday phenomena. Nevertheless, we can see there is a level of reality in which things happen, a soul world so to speak, or perhaps a spirit realm, that makes us needful of reanalyzing the known concepts of the world, and to reconsider the validity of the values that science relies on. I am not saying that there is magic, or that supernatural things will happen, I am only saying that we can be fascinated beyond the ordinary by thoughts and humanities in the vast infinity of the world in a way that prompts us to speak of a greater calling or vocation for thinking to happen. I personally do not find this present in stuff like process philosophy, and it is also mostly lacking in Heidegger's work, although both these schools presumebly have their own peculiar charm: I do find it in the work of great thinkers in general, although I find it hard to point at a particular person. Philosophy means something, and I believe philosophy can help discover a meaning to life, even if rational thought can never provide such a meaning. Verily, it seems that if we want rational meaning - in this world - we'll have to look at religions. Religions all provide, to some extent or other, a mystique that fills us with the proper need for real gratification, and that allows us to ponder existence in a very real and meaningful way; and to feel like the world makes sense. Philosophy, because it is so logical, cannot do this: it will always stumble and find itself at a loss for words - after all, our preference for philosophy over religion is a wholly personal choice.

[vazelbeak]

Forever gonna be sad that it seems like Sloth was centered on laziness when if you do research it was so much more than that Lovesart23 covered it herself but when you read up on the sins Sloth was a very hard to define sin because of everything it encapsulated. In Dantes Inferno Vergil describes sloth as the effect of an insufficient amount of love, and in some versions its described as "an unwillingness to do what must be done." And can take this form through other vices. It also encapsulated refusing to act and keep to your word making it much more than just laziness but instead appears more along the lines of apathy and indifference.

I also find this would've fit very well with a hospital being in Sloth. I have multiple family members who have been in the medical field and worked in hospitals and they often describe it as a very labor intensive job (which contradicts the laziness idea), however due to the weight of being responsible for and sometimes losing a life, its common for doctors and nurses to actually fall into developing drinking problems and other such means to cope with this as well as develop apathy and indifference to patients with less extreme symptoms or issues overall.

The problem with the portrayal is its hard to find Blitzø funny for being mad at a nurse for not being able to read when this (unintentional or not especially with the lack of understanding the O in Blitzøs name is silent sounding like dyslexia) appears to be someone who's infact nice to Blitzø making him seem like a jerk. (And maybe don't make a joke about the r slur.)

I could see room for it being a joke Blitzø is in the waiting room and while he waits he sees other demons faking more extreme injuries to get seen sooner. When Blitzø brings this up to the nurse playing games on her phone, she tells him Loona is not nearly as urgent of a patient as the others. He can't leave of his appointment will be cancelled so Blitzø has to be smart. He sees a janitors closet left open and gets an idea. He grabs something from it it, drags Loona into the bathroom and we hear a scuffle for about 3 beats. We then cut to the nurse playing a game on her phone as Blitzø flings himself to the front desk and with ad much over the top panic he can muster shouts "oh my god!- my daughter needs help! She's caught a flesh eating bacteria from the human world and its making her skin slough off!"

We then see Loona, wrapped in toilet paper and splattered with some red liquid from the left open janitors closet.

Perhaps have them pop into the same shot asking "has anyone seen my floor cleaner?" And have Blitzo quickly dismisses it with "no.- anyways...-clears throat- Look at how much shes bleeding!" Or as the nurse comments Loona smelling like cleaning supplies in suspicion, Blitzø plays it up as "Oh god! Its turning her flesh into soap like bleach!". I think the idea of Blitzø playing up being dramatic just to get seen for a vaccine could both make fun of how doctors can be so apathetic they only pay attention to the most extreme cases, and in a way keep continuity between season 2 episode 2 by suggesting being on the sitcom set and validated gave Blitzø the confidence to believe he can act which may have been something holding him back from performing.

Blitzø and Loona then get rushed back to a room and when they take the bandages off and as a doctor walks in Blitzø jumps into action again with "Oh you must be mistaken. My daughter is just here for a hellbies shot...are you implying you don't keep track of your own patients?"

Blitzø got past the waiting room, now he just has to convince the doctor they made the mistake.

This makes the doctor think they made a mistake and with the undertone of being threatened for not keeping proper track of patient information and medical history they cave and insist they would never. Potentially this means the doctor who came in to treat Loona wasn't actually someone who administers vaccines to hellhounds but being pressured by Blitzø to do commit to doing it and that's why they struggle to handle Loona.

Really i just think you could make it a little more fitting because dulling sloth down to laziness gives a distasteful implication you think doctors are lazy which is not so much a problem as doctors growing apathetic and only treating the most urgent cases as important which is a real problem.

[empodio]

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.  

name: Masador Naod

eye color: Yellow

hair style / color: Brown with a faint green ombre, his hair is straight, oftentime parts it and lets it fall forward from his shoulders. At times ties it into a low ponytail.

height: 7′0 unless he’s in Zesic Ulri state, where he stands tall at 8′0

clothing style: Semi-formal, oftentimes uses light colored shirts with rolled or folded up sleeves, tends to not have shirt buttons near his neck done for comfort sake. In human world he oftentimes wears beige suits.

best physical feature: He has really nice arms and hands, defined and firm, alongside his thighs (never skip leg day!!) He keeps himself in shape as well, which he is quite proud of. He also has nice lips but don’t stare at them he’ll get shy.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.  

your fears:  “ Losing my loved ones and everything I’ve worked hard for. ”

your guilty pleasure:  " Feeling guilt in what you enjoy is a sure way to bring yourself down, but closest would be Bollywood movies. ”

your ambitions for the future:  " Make sure Douma pays for every single thing they’ve done to us, if I could make Ophanim crumble under my fist, I would. I strive for my realm to grow stronger and better, so I can one day deal with Douma myself and leave with no regrets.  ”

𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺.  

your first thoughts waking up:  “ Breakfast, workout, then work, no time to lose. ”

what you think about most: “ I’m always thinking about my job, my people and my daughter. ”

what you think about before bed:    " Not much, plans for the following day mostly, and what I’ve done during the day. ”

what you think your best quality is:  " Resilience, while I may fear one day it’ll be tested to its limit, not even I know it, and I’d definitely work to make it even better.”

𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻’𝑺 𝑩𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹?  

single or group dates:   “Single, I prefer to dedicate all my time to one person, makes it more special. ”

to be loved or respected:    “ Loved, if genuine that is, love does come with respect, after all. ”  

beauty or brains:    " Brains, not necessarily intelligence wise, but someone’s personality and way of speech, morals, virtues and more should matter much more than how they look. ”  

dogs or cats:   " Both, though I do prefer cats a bit more, they are less energetic. ”  

𝑫𝑶 𝒀𝑶𝑼…  

lie:  " Of course, mainly towards humans however. ”  

believe in yourself:    " Yes, it would not be proper for my people to believe in me when I can’t do it myself. ”

believe in love:   " Of course, I’ve yet to find it myself, but it does exist. ”

want someone:    " It would be nice. ”

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑵…  

been on stage:  " Unfortunately, I managed, but public speaking is not my thing. ”

done drugs:    “ Yes, but human drugs do almost nothing to me,  ”

changed who you were to fit in:    " Technically, yes, I do live a double life, as a human and a Devil, but I would not change my personality to fit in. ”

𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑺.  

favorite color:  “ Burgundy, it... Makes me think of my daughter. ”

favorite animal:   " I actually quite like lizards.”  

favorite movie:       " There’s... A few I really like, really, it’s hard to choose. ”    

favorite book:    " Ah... There’s quite a few books on technology and its history that I’ve greatly enjoyed, but nothing too specific. ”

favorite game:    " Do I look like someone with time to game...? God of War. ”

𝑨𝑮𝑬.  

day your next birthday will be:  “ Somewhere around march, human and demon ages are quite different, so I’m not certain. ”

how old will you be:    “ Eight thousand sixteen years old. ″

age you lost your virginity: “ It was a while ago... Over a couple thousand years ago.”

𝑰𝑵 𝑨 𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵.  

best personality:  “ Charming people with patience and understanding, anybody that is patient with how... Awkward and shy I can be and helps me feel at ease. ”

best eye color:     “ It doesn’t matter to me. ”

best hair color:     " Not of importance either, though I do think Sana’s hair color is beautiful. ”

best thing to do with a partner:  “Spend a quiet night together, enjoying our company, I don’t mind conversation of course, but being able to sit together comfortable... I think that’s very nice. ”

𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑺𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬.  

i love:  " My family ”

i feel:    " Stressed ”  

i hide:   " How tired I am ”

i miss:    “ Iuerus. ”

i wish:     " I could make things like they were when we were younger. ”

i yoinked this from @ sylvctica    

tags all of u