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poetickitten · 6 years

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*YOUR PROMPT COULD BE HERE* :/

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: G for General Audiences

Warnings: None

for @dadrunkwriting and @thevikingwoman

Disclaimer: *Angry elves are the cutest thing to write*

Another disclaimer: tumblr is such a joy today. my original post with the prompt by @thevikingwoman has been lost in the Void somewhere. So fyi: The prompt was: in the face of his/her fury.

Under the cut, because kinda long.

Hell hath no fury

“Freed will be all slaves!”

His ancient parole thunders across the hall as he raises his voice; this is the spark that finally and irrevocably spurs them into action. His last words are swallowed by the answering cries of the elves drawing their weapons and rushing towards their would-be masters, swords raised high, the pain of years and even generations of abuse and cruelty etched into their contorted faces. Their former owners clearly weren’t prepared for battle when they came here. They walked blindly into his trap, confident in their misguided assumption of inherent superiority over his race. They trusted that their vicious words of intimidation and the threat of magic would frighten the elves they consider their property back into place, as it has been for hundreds of years.

But the instant the elves surge forward, bloodlust in their hearts and on their faces, a deafening blast shatters the high wooden gates behind them, the force of it such that Solas has difficulty keeping on his feet. A throng of armed men that don’t belong to the army he has been building pour through the doorway, swarming into the room with a swell of noise, battle cries, and stomping, trampling feet, their glinting blades held high. Solas unconsciously tightens the grip on his staff as he struggles for a moment to grasp who these sudden intruders fight for or who could have sent them here. But then he looks more closely, pacing up and down on the dais raised in the middle of the room, his mind grinding into action, and he recognizes the symbol emblazoned on the chest pieces of their armor; an eye wreathed in holy flame. He has seen it on banners swaying in the wind, carried into many battles when he was still fighting on the same side as them. The Inquisition. Confusion makes his brows knit together. She disbanded the Inquisition years ago. How could they be here? It takes him a moment to catch on, to realize that, no matter how this has happened, it might mean –

The thought hasn’t fully formed in his head yet, but his eyes are already raking across the room, trying to discern a single face amidst the horde. He hears her before his eyes have found her, however. Lokil. She is shouting commands at someone, but he still has not found her from where he is observing the fray ensuing below. He turns to join them, protect his men, find her, but-

He hasn’t taken two steps towards the stairs that lead down into the room when he stops dead in his tracks.

She is there.

“Hello, Solas.” She is slowly ascending the steps, the staff that he helped craft for her held at her side by a glinting prosthetic hand.

He tried to cling to every detail of her face in the vast space of the years since he saw her last. He imprinted every small line, and every freckle in his memory, willingly scratching out parts of himself to make room for her and then had to chastise himself for doing so. Even years spent apart and spent deliberately evading her efforts at tracking him down are not enough to dull the sharp feeling she pushed into him. It is bubbling up painfully, wrenching and broiling into a tight knot in his gut at the unexpected sight of her. Seeing her now without warning that she would be here is like seeing her for the first time all over again.

She has changed so much, and yet, not at all. She has become thin and there are shadows under her eyes. But her gaze is still so inescapable, so compelling, as if she knew every one of his thoughts chasing each other around his head. The gleam in her eyes is triumphant at having finally tracked him down, but Solas still notices that they are tinged with a trace of bitterness; she is trying to press it to the corners, make it unseen. She knew that he would be here and she has had a chance to prepare for this encounter, unwilling to offer her pain to him freely.

He would not deserve it under any circumstance.

So he will not push his pain onto her either; and he straightens himself and hardens his expression, clasps his hands behind his back, adopting a proud, characteristic stance. “Vhenan.” He has to overcome, for both their sakes. One glimpse cannot be enough to weaken his resolve again. She comes to a slow stop a few feet from him, the smallest flicker on her face betraying her heart. Vhenan. The endearment stings. He knows her too well. He does not wish to hurt her. “So. You have found me at last. How did you do it?”

A small half-smile pulls at one corner of her lips. Her lips.“It took me some time, but-”, she admits, “I figured out my mistake.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what was that?” For one fleeting moment, he can feel himself wanting to slip into his old ways, guiding her, encouraging her.

“I spent three years trying to track you down. To no avail.” Sting. Three years she considers wasted. To her, it is a lot. “For too long I let myself wallow in my pain. The way you left-” Sting. “They way you left, it left me feeling… weak.” She hates admitting it, he knows. “Weaker than I was. I believed it would be almost impossible to calculate your next moves and guess at your intentions. I thought we simply had too little information; you didn’t leave me with much to go on, after all.” Sting. The memory of the shattered remains of their bond he left her with makes her eyebrows knit together softly for a moment. “Especially after disbanding; we lacked the resources of the old Inquisition. But I was wrong to let my grief cloud my judgment. I let go of the idea of -” She falters. “The idea that I could… persuade you into coming back. I figured out… erm… a different way forward. It was enough to track you to this place.”

Solas cannot stop his expression from softening into a small, indulgent smile. “I applaud your determination.” He bows his head in a gesture of respect for her. “I always have. I have ever admired your ability to question your own outlook whenever you felt yourself getting stuck; to question your decisions.” Sting. “An ability all too rare in those who hold positions of immense power, like you do.”

Something defiant and cocky lights up her features. She seems to be chewing on her tongue, clearly holding back a playfully indignant remark at his patronizing tone and at the challenge. This was nothing he ever had to teach her, and he knows it. But Solas delights in the fact that he is still able to gaud her this way, to spark her defiance and her resolution. Talking to her still seems so familiar. He pauses and looks at her more seriously then. “The worst decision you ever made, however-” His hands twitch behind his back. “- I could not talk you out of.”

The corners of her mouth turn down as if there was a bitter taste on her tongue. “How can you say that.”, she demands quietly, the short-lived spark from a moment before fading somewhat. It is no real question; merely an expression of the hurt the thought causes her that he might not put the same unyielding faith in their love anymore. He still does. There is simply no point in indulging that thought. This can never be.

She speaks again, putting deliberate pressure on every slow, measured word. “It was worth it.”, she says earnestly, her conviction unbroken. He can tell that she is struggling to keep her voice from wavering. “All of it. I don’t regret a single day spent by your side.” She takes a steadying breath and raises her chin proudly. “And there is nothing you can do that could ever make me.”

She has him there. Solas hates himself for allowing it to show - for what good will it do her? - but he is unable to keep his face from contorting a little in the shared pain over the impossibility of this love. He will never understand what he can possibly have done to earn this remarkable woman’s trust. How he would wish to lavish his love on her, bury her in warm words and soothe the tender aches he has inflicted on her - on them both - with still more tender kisses.

He falters.

“My love, I-”

Whoosh. There is a sharp hissing sound and a bolt of heat is rushing straight for his face. Solas gets the barrier up just in time. When the burst of flame hits the shield and bounces off to the sides, he can see her again, her stance no longer still and upright, but getting ready to hit him again, her feet planted firmly on the ground, ready to attack. Before Solas has fully realized what is happening, she has cast two more spells, and suddenly the air around him is crackling with her magic, as she releases blast after blast, turning the elements loose on him. But he does not fight back. Some part of him is still so deeply in the habit of trusting her, though that may be a mistake by now, he begins to realize. With every blast she releases, she steps closer, forcing him to retreat from her onslaught. She whirls her staff above her head and then smashes its blade on the stone floor with a keening sound that makes his teeth hurt, making the ground rumble beneath his feet, a snarl on her face. The force of the spell makes him bend over to balance himself out and prevent his feet from giving in. The barrier flickers, as he can feel the stone balustrade that lines the dais at his back. He cannot help but marvel at the strength of her magic; she has become powerful.

She got him. Clever girl.

He realizes that she lured him into thinking that she was about to give in to her grief once more. She knows him well enough, too, it seems. He never was able to resist whenever she released the full, incomprehensible power of her conviction and her utter trust in him on his nervous heart. A honey trap. She knew that he could not bear to contemplate in earnest what his betrayal must have done to her. And she used it to lower his guard.

“Fight back!”, she yells, her voice ripping through the singed air, just a hint of a laugh in it. Taunting him. “Fight back!”

But all he can do is look at her and gravely shake his head. He puts the barrier up before she releases a new string of attacks, even fiercer than the last one.

Enraged, she seems to understand perfectly why he doesn’t defend himself as she redoubles her efforts and hits him again and again, a barrage of fire and ice assaulting his barrier in an earnest attempt to break it. But she never gets that far.

Out of nowhere, she interrupts her advance and turns her head abruptly to look around the room. The afterglow of her spells still has his ears ringing. But then he hears the roaring, cheering cries of the soldiers and he realizes that the battle in the room down below is over.

He lingers a moment too long. He means to turn his head and look at her again, but before she has fully come into focus, Solas can feel something cold and flat hitting the side of his head hard, sending him reeling sideways. He stumbles and falls backward, his back against the banister behind him. He fights the urge to vomit. When the pain and nausea recede and the vision before his eyes has cleared once more, she is standing over him, a broad, wicked grin on her face.

“You didn’t think that I’d be gotten rid of that easily, did you? You taught me, after all.”, she says jubilantly, her tone giddy. She bends down to where he is sitting slumped on the floor and grabs his chin none too gently, jerking his face up to force him to look directly into her eyes.

Inescapable.

Solas cannot help but chuckle weakly. “Well done. I have to admit, seeing you here, like this-” He smiles sheepishly, more at his own weakness than at her. He knows his eyes are smoldering with admiration for her, but he cannot help himself. “You played to my one weakness.”

She grins, despite herself. “Just like you always did with me. I learned from the best.”

“That was my mistake then.” There it is again. Sting. Her grip on his chin tightens harshly. But he feels a surge of pride in her at her words.

She lifts one eyebrow and speaks, a worthy imitation of his most condescending expression and his most patronizing tone, mockery dripping like honey from her words. “Tsk, tsk, Solas. Letting mere sentiment get in the way of your oh-so-rational, ever-so-cautious assessments. A foolish beginner’s mistake.” She is delighting in every word. And she deserves to.

“I will never lie down and accept the fate you have in store for me.” Sting. ”But until we settle that argument once and for all, there are goals we share.” She nods in the direction of the doors, and he assumes that she means his plans to abolish slavery. “I think I see now that you had to leave. Well-”, she interrupts herself, “No. I don’t understand it, exactly. But I have come to terms with it.” Then she grins, her voice dangerously sweet as she continues, only for him to hear, for him alone to understand her precise meaning. “Still. This is for the way you did it.”

And her backhand smacks the side of his face, hard, not like he has done to her so many times when she was still his, not meaning to hurt but always to heighten her pleasure. This stings. They are even. The smile on her face softens, then. Glee at her victory has rekindled that bright, fiery spark in her eyes again that he has not seen there for a long time. He believed he had managed to snuff out the dim glimmer that was left of it when he turned his back on her the last time they saw each other and stepped through the Eluvian. “Whenever you’re ready, Solas.”, she whispers. “Whenever you’re ready for this to be over, you know where to find me.” She wipes a trickle of blood from his lips with her thumb, still grabbing his chin. “Come home.” And she crosses the small distance between them, as she has done so many times before, and in many different ways, and places the softest kiss on his lips, still smiling. She lingers just a second too long. “And, Solas.”, she whispers, “I did mean what I said. I don’t regret any of it. And I never will.”

One last stroke across the line of his jaw with just the tips of her fingers, and she turns and walks away. Though reluctant to admit it even to himself, Solas cannot help but feel his love for her grow. He tried to tear her apart with his love and his lies. And not only does she still hold on to this love, but she also used it to figure out a way to overcome. What a vicious half-truth she used to slink her way into his head. Just like she said: She learned from the best.

Solas scrambles to his feet, still dazed. He turns to see her leaving the hall through the shattered wooden gates, surrounded by cheering soldiers, but not before throwing one last glowing look over her shoulder back at him.

He will see her again.

#aaaaaah #tumblr ate my original post #again #dwc #da:i fanfic #Solavellan #solas x lokil #hell hath no fury #a kitty tries to write #oh Solas #you deserve it #a bit #a lot #bad dog

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 7 years

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Balance on the Head of a Pin*

Chapter Five

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x OFC | Word Count: 5159

Warnings: Smut and fluff, swearing, Loki being Loki, NSFW 18+

Standing before the mirror in the bathroom, Lauren lifted her shirt and traced her fingers over the golden image now ingrained on her flesh. It caused her to shake a little, trembled all over with how swiftly everything had changed. She’d gone from a farce of a relationship with the God of Mischief to a deeply intense one with Loki in a heartbeat of time. It was everything she’d thought she’d never have, but she wasn’t quite sure what to do about it now that it had happened.

He was an intense individual. To suddenly become the focus of his piercing gaze was both thrilling and a bit terrifying.

Dropping her shirt, Lauren clenched her fingers into fists and set them on the grey granite countertop.

He did things to her on a whole new level.

The feelings she’d once held in her heart for George seemed like dust in the wind compared to the inferno which burned for the blue-eyed god.

The pendant he’d placed on her swung, caught the light, and thumped back against her chest when she stood from her bent position. He’d called it protective magic. Clearly, it to was more than it seemed, but he’d failed to tell her what that more was.

Touching it gently, she noticed it felt warm. Whether from her body heat or something else, magic maybe, she couldn’t say. It was heavy where it rested above her heart, but it didn’t pull at her neck like the diamond necklace had her mama forced her to wear for her engagement party to George. It matched the gaud awful solitaire he’d given her. Unlike the cushion cut gem in the antique gold setting of the ring which currently graced her hand, George’s choice had been cold even as it sparkled with fire.

She’d hated that ring. Perhaps she should have paid closer attention to her reaction to it from the first. Maybe she would have realized George wasn’t for her long before they’d gotten to the church. But, her parents and his had been pushing so hard for the wedding, and she’d genuinely thought herself in love with George.

He’d wooed her like a master, said all the right things, did all the right things, for so many years. How could she have been so stupidly blind? How could she have just dumbly followed along with everyone else’s plans?

These were all the same thoughts she’d had when she’d taken his horrible ring and used it to start a new life for herself in New York. It wasn’t an heirloom, and she was by no means giving it back. Not after what he’d done.

Alone and on her own for the first time, Lauren had quite literally lucked out, falling into the position of Tony’s assistant. She’d had no formal training, other than running errands and things for her mother, taking charge of charities and foundations and such.

The Iron Man had been on the phone, yelling as Tony was want to do, standing in the middle of Saks Fifth Avenue - a store she couldn’t possibly afford anymore, but she still enjoyed looking. He’d been harping on about a gift for Pepper, asking someone named Nat what the hell he should get when Nat had been of no help. He’d snarled and hung up, and though at the time she had no idea who he was, Lauren had taken pity on the man who seemed so lost and offered her assistance.

She’d asked questions about Pepper’s likes and hobbies, her job and favourite colour, and had quickly narrowed Tony’s choices down to two different handbags, a Hermes scarf, and a Cartier bracelet. The man had bought all of it, setting Lauren gaping at the cost.

When he’d offered to take her for lunch as thanks for her assistance, Lauren had politely declined, not trusting a man she’d just met - who clearly had buckets of money - not to take advantage. She’d merely offered a kindness. There was no need to repay something freely given.

Before she could leave though, he’d asked how she’d known just what to get. Laughing, Lauren had quipped that no one was harder to manage than her mama. If she could survive running for that woman, she could do anything.

Three days later when she was still jobless, living in a tiny apartment, and the knock had come at the door, she’d opened it to find the same man standing on her threshold with a stunning strawberry blonde who’d quickly offered her a job as Tony’s personal assistant. There was no way Pepper believed Tony had picked out her gifts and demanded to know who'd helped.

Apparently, Lauren had wrangled the Iron Man a bit too well and wound up in her current position. Not that she didn’t love it, just, at times, it could be highly demanding. Still, she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. She loved all the people, the whole team.

Taking a deep breath, Lauren smoothed down her shirt, touched the pendant at her throat, and left the washroom. She’d needed the respite after her intense experience with Loki. A respite and a change of underwear.

The man had magic… well, everything. She’d never had an orgasm that powerful before. With George, she’d never had one at all, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t tried a little… self-stimulation over the years. Her very first one had been her first night in New York when the stress of moving, leaving it all behind and disobeying her parents had become too much.

At twenty-two, she had finally experienced what the fuss was about. How depressing was that?

Still, the fact Loki could kiss her and set her insides on fire was a little startling. She hadn’t known the way passion and love were described in cheesy romance novels could actually be real.

At the open door, Lauren paused to take him in.

He stood against the second-floor railing, looking out over the rolling hills and fields of the farm. Dark hair curled a little tighter than usual around his face thanks to the humidity. His eyes were the piercing blue of a summer sky. He was all sharp features and sinfully sculpted lips, and just ridiculously handsome.

Who in their right mind made a man that gorgeous?

And sweet, thorny Jesus, by the look of his arms and the breadth of his back and shoulders, she just knew the man was packing some serious muscle. She wondered if it came about from wielding a sword, or staff maybe.

He wasn’t built like Steve or Bucky. He was sleeker, like a panther. He even moved like one, all silent grace. She’d never seen him fight, but with how he’d used the dagger against George, it was wholly evident he could.

“You are staring, my sweet.”

She startled, blushed at getting caught, and walked out to join him. “Just admirnin’ the view.”

His hand found hers and tugged, bringing her right up against him, and fingertips traced her cheek, making her blush burn brighter.

“You blush so easily. It’s beautiful. Tell me what you admired.”

It wasn’t a question but a command, one she was inclined to disobey. “And inflate your ego some more? I don’t think so.”

“Ah, so it was me you were staring at. How fascinating.” He gave her a sly smile.

“You, sir, are gettin’ too big for your britches.” She shook her head, making her tail of hair swing as she leaned in and kissed him, a quick peck to the lips.

“I do not know what that means. Are you implying that I am thickening around the middle like your brother-in-law? I assure you that isn’t the case.”

He sounded almost offended, and it made Lauren snicker. “Are you a body snob, Loki?”

“A what?”

She slid her hand up his chest and trailed her fingers along his throat. “If I was as big around as old man Jefferson’s prize winnin’ hog, would you still think I was beautiful?”

He blinked at her, narrowed his eyes, and he lowered his head. “This is a trick question I refuse to answer. Whatever I say will see me in trouble.”

She laughed softly, her smile big and wide. “Maybe it would have, but I still think you’re a body snob.” She winked at him and turned away, her hand clasped with his to tug him along. “Come on. I’ll show you the farm. You seemed interested in the horses last night when we talked.”

“I am not a snob,” he pouted. “I despise sloth. Your body is a temple which should be well cared for. Is that thinking so wrong?”

“Not all of us are born with the metabolism of a God, Loki.”

“It’s not about metabolism. It is about will and perseverance.” He took her hand and liked it back within the confines of his elbow. “When I was a child, Thor was the bigger of us. He excelled where I often had to work very hard. We differed only when it came to magic. There was my excellence while combat was his, but Asgardians are warriors. I wished to be as well. So, I determined to be better. Stronger. Faster. I was jealous of my brother for whom it all came so easily.” He sighed and looked away. “My will was very strong, too strong. It led me down a dark path.”

“Loki…” She was stunned at his revelation. Drawing him to a stop, Lauren reached up and touched his cheek. Eyes full of shadowed regrets watched her from behind shuttered lids. “I’m sorry, peaches. I didn’t mean to draw up old hurts with my teasin’.”

He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Thor and I have settled our differences. We are brothers, blood or no, but… I have done some terrible things. Unforgivable things.”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Everyone deserves a second chance, elskan mín. You’re makin’ what you can right. Don’t let the demons of your past darken the brightness of your future.”

“Lauren.” He breathed her name like a prayer causing her blush to grow again.

Pressing up on her toes, she kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good man.”

“Say it again.” His arm wrapped her waist and was unyielding. “Say it again, my love.”

She peered up at him, not quite understanding until his eyes drifted down to her pendant. “Elskan mín,” she murmured.

He swung her around, her back connecting with the solid wood of one of the columns before he ravaged her mouth. Moaning, Lauren clawed at his back and slung a leg around his hip when he settled against her. The hard, insistent length of his cock was pressed firmly to her core, and she ground herself against him.

He moaned, and the peppermint patty flavour of it washed into her mouth. His hand closed around her tail of hair and pulled her head back in a deep arch. Teeth scraped down the cords of her neck.

Lauren cried out quietly at the pleasure of such a touch.

“I never thought, never dreamed I’d find you, let alone have you be so perfect, elskan mín.” He rocked into her.

A moan, low and wanton, escaped Lauren's lips. She clutched at him, her body on fire. Hot bolts of desire shot through her from his hips and mouth working in tandem. The rolling of his hips was slow, thorough, dragging over her with unrelenting insistence.

“Loki, please!” she whimpered. “Anyone could see…”

“Never!” he hissed, catching her hands and stretching them up over her head. Pinning her there, he traced his lips over her cheek. He kissed her nose, her lips, her chin before he rested his forehead on hers.

“I could take you right here, and no one would see that I did not wish to. Illusion is mine to wield as I choose. I could close us off from this world with a thought. I could bend you over the railing, my sweet, naked as the day you were born, make you sing out your pleasure at the top of your lungs as I repeatedly thrust into you, and no one would be the wiser.”

She shuddered with the visual it gave her, could almost see it reflected in his eyes. “Oh my…”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you, my wicked Valkyrie?” Mischief fired in his gaze, burning her, challenging her.

The imp on her shoulder fairly cackled with excitement. “Perhaps. But I have so little to compare my experience too. Are you certain you could make me sing?”

“You sang for me only minutes ago. Or have you forgotten already… Lauren?”

She smiled a cheeky grin. “I have a simply horrid memory… Loki.”

He chuckled. “Is this how you’ve managed to stay Tony’s assistant so long? Do you sass him as well?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Indeed I would.” He kissed her hard and let her go.

“And it’s not sassin’ if you do it right.”

“Oh? Do tell, darling. How does one sass correctly?”

“With sweetness, a smile, and a flutter of lashes,” she teased, demonstrating the move on him. “Why, Loki. I do declare, if you don’t get that sweet tush movin’, we’ll be ever so late for luncheon. You ain’t never gonna see the ponies if you keep draggin’ your feet.”

“You think I have a sweet tush?” He smirked wickedly at her.

“That tush is sexy as hell. Why do you think all us women walk behind you, peaches?” she quipped, sashaying away down the balcony.

“Freya’s bountiful tits, woman! You’re going to be the death of me.”

She burst out laughing and liked her hand through his elbow when he appeared at her side. “See? Sass done right.”

He bent at the waist with a courtly flourish. “I bow to the queen on this matter. My Valkyrie has sass down to an art-form. Perhaps you should use it on your family.”

“My mama is immune to my sass. It’s like her superpower. I swear she can smell it. Then it’s all, “Lauren Guillemin, don’t you sass your mama.””

“You need to be slightly more nasal in your mimicry,” he said, stroking his fingers over hers on his arm.

She chuckled softly. “Maybe.”

“Hm.” Loki hummed and assisted her down the stairs to the first floor, then down a second short flight into the grass. “Do all women of the South have such… enormous hair?”

She belted out another peal of laughter. “Some, certainly,” she managed to say once she’d regained control. “It isn’t uncommon.”

“I prefer yours.”

“Mine’s out of self-preservation. It curls somethin’ fierce in this humidity. Tyin' it back keeps me sane.”

As they walked, she pointed out different points of interest on the plantation. The hedge maze at the back of the house with its walled rose garden. The pool and pool house. She took him around the gardens rather than through them so they could walk the lane the towering oaks lined, helping cut some of the heat with their shade.

The packed earth crunched slightly beneath their feet, and a horse whinnied in the distance. She paused with him at the top of the lane to look out over white fences, red barns, and dark wooden outbuildings. The vivid green of the land was dotted here and there with the colourful coats of many sleek horses, while a few spindly legged colts grazed at their mother’s sides.

Lauren smiled when she leaned into Loki, resting her head on his shoulder. “I forget how beautiful it is until I come home again. It’s like seein’ it all for the first time every time I come back.”

“It really is quite lovely,” he said, but when she looked up at him, he was looking at her.

Her blush came back with a vengeance. “You keep bein’ that sweet, I’m never gonna need sugar ever again.”

He only smiled his patented Loki smirk.

Shaking her head, Lauren continued down the road, heading for the biggest of three barns. In one of the high fenced paddocks, a tall, deep red chestnut stallion bugled a challenge and charged the fence where an elderly, weathered man stood with his hands on his hips.

“You ornery ol’ cuss! Don’tcha be giv’n me that now, ya hear!” he snapped, slapping his cap against the wooden railing before jamming it back on his head.

Squealing in delight, Lauren pulled away from Loki to dart forward. “Teddy!”

He whipped around and grinned a wide smile which was missing several teeth. “Well, Lord have mercy! It’s Miss Lauren! C’mon, child. You give ol’ Teddy some sugar!” He held out his arms.

Lauren threw herself into them, placing a smacking kiss against his wrinkled cheek. “I missed you somethin’ fierce, Teddy!” She hugged him tight and pulled back to giggle at his twinkling dark eyes. “Did you get the gift I sent for your birthday?”

“I certainly did, lil’ miss! Though what I’m gonna do with them there fancy boots, I dun know.” He shook his head, grinning cheekily.

“You wear them, silly man! I know you’re sweet on Miss Abigail Swain. You take them shiny boots, and you deck yourself out in your finest, and you ask that woman to the town’s Fourth dance. That’s what you do with them boots!” she scolded him soundly.

“I just might do that, missy, I just might.” His eyes drifted past her shoulder. “And who be this ‘un?”

Lauren held out her hand for Loki. “Teddy, I’d like for you to meet my beau, Loki Laufeyson. Loki, this is Teddy, my very best guy.”

He blushed and dropped his chin. “Aw, go on wichya! You tease an ol’ man.” He swept the hat from his head and held out his hand. “I’m ver’a pleased to meet ya. The missy here talks about you somethin’ fierce in her letters. All starry-eyed she is for the Mischief God. Didn’t realize you was sweet on her, too.”

“Teddy!” Lauren squealed, her face flaming red.

Loki grinned slyly at her as he shook the heavily calloused hand of Teddy. “You wrote of me, darling?”

“Oh, fer sure, fer sure.” Teddy nodded, grinning at her as well. “One could say… gushed.”

“Teddy so help me, if you don’t stop teasin’ I’m gonna replace all the hooch in your cabin with water!”

He gasped. “Ye wouldn’t! Why, that’s cruel of you, miss thing! Threatenin’ a man’s relaxin’ time.”

“I see my Valkyrie has always been inclined toward mischief. I will have to recruit you into my escapades when we return to New York.” Loki settled his hand on her back, but his eyes had drifted to the snorting horse glaring at them from behind the tall fence. “It seems you have a spirited one here.”

“Bah! That one’s a whole bucket o’ nasty. Ornery cuss. Inclined to bite and kick, but his daddy made this farm a heap of money at stud. Could run like the wind he could. This ‘un, too, has it in ‘im. Can’t get a rider on ‘im though. Mean as a snake, he is.”

“He’s not mean. Just a wild thing,” Lauren said, moving toward the fence. “Ain’t that right, Dragon?” Passing her hand through the rails, she held out her palm for him.

He trotted over, eyes bright and head held high to nudge her fingers. She caressed his velvet soft muzzle and smiled at the beautiful horse.

“Well, shoot. Here I’d dun gone and figured he’d be all hoyty-toyty wichya bein’ gone as long as you was. Damn horse turns me into a liar.” Huffing, Teddy slammed the beaten hat back on his balding head.

“Teddy’s the breedin' manager here for our thoroughbreds,” Lauren explained when Loki sidled closer. “He knows everythin' there is to know about our horses, but he and Dragon have never gotten on.”

“Fits his name, that one do,” Teddy groused. “Only one capable of handlin’ the cur was Miss Lauren.”

Dragon squealed and kicked out at the fence, pinning his ears at Loki.

“Oh, I do not think you wish to do that, my spirited friend,” Loki smirked an excited grin when the horse snapped his teeth together. “So, that is how it shall be.”

He was over the fence, and in the pen faster than Lauren could say ‘Bob’s your uncle,’ startling Dragon into rushing away. She gasped in shock and not a little appreciation when, once his feet hit the earth, she realized he’d changed his clothes.

Gone where the linen pants and polo shirt, replaced by tight black breeks and knee-high boots of scuffed, well-worn leather. A tunic swung at Loki's hips, a broad belt of highly engraved leather surrounded his waist. He pushed back the sleeves of the dark green tunic, the ties of which crisscrossed at his throat, weaved loosely halfway down his chest, and hung just slightly open, giving her a glimpse of thick muscle which gleamed a soft bronze.

“Merciful Jesus…” Teddy breathed in amazement.

Lauren seconded the sentiment, but not because the magic amazed her. No. She’d darn near swallowed her tongue to hold in a whimper. If she’d thought his tush sexy before, it was nothing when compared with the sculpted thighs showcased in his skin-tight pants.

“Loki? What are you doin’?” she asked when she finally managed to get her voice to work.

“Making friends, darling.”

His chuckle was deep and heady. It shot a small jolt straight to her womb, and she almost groaned.

God and steed eyed each other. One calm and relaxed, the other tightly wound. Dragon broke first when he bellowed in anger and charged.

Gasping, Lauren’s hand flew to her throat.

Green light flashed in Loki’s fist. Where once there was nothing, now hung a bridle. The leather a deep brown, the metal an aged bronze, the bit highly polished silver. The horse reared up and pawed at the air, but Loki stood immovable. When Dragon dropped to his feet, Lauren never even saw Loki move, but the bridle was suddenly on Dragon’s head, and the God was in a saddle of the same kind, high on the back of the shocked looking stallion.

“Now, will you behave?” Loki asked, causing the horse’s ears to twist back.

Dragon snorted, tucked his head, rounded his back and bucked.

Loki didn’t jerk or yank on the reins. He didn’t bang the bit against Dragon’s mouth. Just quietly sat out the tantrum like he was glued to the saddle.

It was so, so freaking hot, Lauren had to pant a little and grab for the rail so as not to collapse into a puddle. “Wow,” she whispered.

“Wow be right, missy,” Teddy said beside her, eyes big and round. “That man's got a seat on him.”

He certainly does. Lauren bit her lip so as not to blush. Teddy might have been talking Loki’s horseman skills, but she certainly wasn’t. The man had a seriously fine ass.

“That’s enough now. You’ve proved your point. You can be proud without being a brat about it.” The God of Mischief’s voice was implacable, and Dragon stopped, head down and blowing. Gently, Loki gathered the reins and sent the horse through his paces. It took less than a half dozen circuits of the paddock for Dragon to be answering rein and leg cues like an old pro.

A smugly satisfied smile graced Loki’s face when he swung from Dragon’s back. He patted the horse’s shoulder and neck and flicked his hand, vanishing the tack.

The stallion shook all over making him chuckle as he held out a bright red apple Dragon took without hesitation. The horse was munching happily, following Loki like a puppy when the Asgardian made his way back to the fence.

Clearing her throat, Lauren’s voice was a touch raspy when she asked, “Have fun?” But her brain stalled when she noticed the gleam on his throat and chest. Again she had to bite her cheek so as not to whimper. The exertion was just enough to make him sweat.

“It was most invigorating. He should behave better now, though, whether you get another rider on him will remain to be seen.”

Loki swung over the fence, and she held her breath. When he landed, still garbed in his riding gear, she grabbed him by the hand.

“See you later, Teddy.”

“Yah, y'all go on now.” Teddy chuckled, eyes alight with a knowing gleam when he turned them her way.

Lauren blushed but continued to drag Loki toward the barn, her feet clumsy in her haste.

“Lauren?”

She couldn’t speak, not yet, not if she didn’t want to climb him publicly. It had worked earlier, rather well, so she said simply, “Not yet.”

He fell into silence, and she hurried into the barn’s shadowed interior. This time of morning it was empty, just the way she wanted it. Turning right, she opened the door to the tack room, thrust Loki through it, and shut it firmly at her back.

His eyes were confused, a frown furrowing his brow. He stood, hip cocked and arms crossed over his chest, the overhead light causing the sweat on his skin to glisten.

“Fuck it!” she hissed and threw herself at him.

Lauren's arms went around his neck as her body slammed full force into Loki's. She thrust her hands into his hair while sealing their mouths together on a wanton moan. Licking his lips, she begged entrance, and delved deep when he granted her wish.

Twisting her tongue around his, she stroked it, coaxed it into following hers, sucking on it when it swept into her mouth. She’d shocked him into temporary stillness, but when his brain kicked back in, she found herself lifted up to straddle one of the flat racing saddles.

She tugged on his hair and moaned. Then, arching his throat back, she sucked on his Adam’s apple, his moan like music to her. She drew one hand down his throat to the ties of his tunic, jerked the lacing free, leaned forward, and licked a line straight up his sternum. Fire exploded on her taste buds.

“My God! Why do you always taste so good?” she groaned against him, flicking her tongue over his exposed skin.

He jerked her head up and took her mouth. Kissed, licked, and nipped her lips, driving her wild. His hands were everywhere. Caressing her back. Clutching her shoulders. Kneading her breasts. Stroking her thighs. When his fingers delved beneath the hem of her flowing green top and sank down the front of her pants, Lauren could only whine in surprised pleasure.

His lips left hers and skimmed back to her ear where he whispered, “You seem to be in need, my Valkyrie. Is Valhalla calling? Do you need to see it a second time?”

Rocking into the fingers sliding through her folds, Lauren begged, “Please, please, Loki!”

“What has you so aroused, my love? The taming of a wild creature?”

His finger skidded over her clit. “Ah! … clothes…” she managed to breathe out. “You look… so sexy…”

She felt herself being dragged forward, so she was barely perched on the saddle. Legs parted, dangling, unable to reach the ground, she was held there by the strength of his hands alone and gripped his shirt and the back of his neck. Lauren shivered. The delicious burn from before was growing in her belly again. When his finger began to circle, she tipped her head back and cried out.

“So, you like my garments enough to drag me into the closest room and have your way with me? I must remember that, darling.”

His laughter was dark, sensual. It skated across her skin like velvet. Unable to answer his teasing, she wrapped her legs at his waist, shifted her hands to the saddle tree behind her, and arched into his fingers.

The zipper tore as her fly came open from the sudden wrenching removal of Loki’s hand.

Gasping in disappointment, she looked down the arch of her torso, breasts thrust up, and found a hungry wolf staring back. The man before her had never looked more like a conquering war god then he did right this instant.

“Please,” she whispered, the ache inside her stronger than the last time.

“Would you seek to take what I offer freely?” His eyes appeared green with his change of attire, glowing with lust and warning. He wanted her to obey him, allow him to lead. It irritated him she’d tried to rush things. She could see it all so clearly in that piercing gaze.

Slowly, Lauren lowered her butt back to the saddle, and unlocked her legs from his hips. But when she tried to move her hands, bring them back around to touch him, she found them bound together at her back and looked at him curiously.

“Good girls get to touch, to taste. Naughty girls get their hands tied.”

Her nerves must have shown on her face for he leaned forward and kissed her softly. It was a lingering kiss, one that saw her relaxing into his mouth.

“There, my sweet. Nothing to fear. Only small games and great pleasure,” Loki murmured against her lips. “Now.” His fingers skimmed up her thigh. “Let me please you, elskan mín.”

Then they were again delving within the confines of her underwear, stroking over her mound and curls, tracing her core with extreme care. It made her sigh and arch back, her throat straining to contain her cry of delight. Teeth closed over her pulse, sucked and licked. A fingertip pressed between her lips and circled her swollen jewel.

He scooted her forward again, keeping her dangling, fingers stroking, stroking, stroking. The burn in her belly was growing, and Lauren shuddered.

“Please, oh, please! I’ll be good. I’ll be so good.”

“Such a pretty mouth,” he said, passing his lips over hers. “You are a treasure. Beg for me?”

“Please, Loki. Please let me come!”

“Oh, darling! How delectable. You will end me with how perfect you are. Elskan mín, come for me.” His fingers slid inside her and thrust up only once.

Her core clenched and squeezed around his fingers, and Lauren moaned. Her mind went white as pleasure unimaginable rent her from her body into a state of total bliss. Ecstasy burned every nerve inside her, and all the while his gentle touch continued to pet and stroke.

When the throbbing orgasm finally slowed, she slumped over and leaned against Loki.

“That’s two, my sweet.”

His tone was smug, his smile content, but all Lauren could think was, "How will I survive six more rounds?" And if he could do all this with only his hands, how would she ever survive actually sleeping with him?

Next Chapter

#balance #loki #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #fanfiction #southern belle

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quarantinemusiccalendar · 4 years

Text

Day 33: Thomas Tallis - Selected Works

I have a thing for renaissance polyphony. It could be the works of William Byrd, Michael Praetorius, Palestrina or Orlando Gibbons, I like them all. And the best of them, I’d say, is Thomas Tallis. I bake, meditate, spiritually recalibrate, work, untangle excel data mysteries and drive to this music. It’s not the only thing I listen to, of course. But I listen to this “polyphonic playlist” of mine probably on average 4 - 5 times a month. It’s extremely calming and helps me focus.

Thomas Tallis, a chorister and composer by training, appears on the court of Henry VIII in 1543. Previously employed at a Benedictine priory in Dover in Kent, which got dissolved in the one of the first waves of the Dissolution of the Monateries (1535-38), he then got employed in London, the augustinian Waltham Abbey in Essex and the Canterbury Cathedral. In 1543, already in his late thirties, he gets the top job and is appointed a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal (one of the choristers in his majesty’s own choir). It happened likely thanks to Thomas Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the leader of the English reformation, who had become one of the king's most trusted counsellors. Eventhough Tallis stayed an “unreformed Papist”, he remained employed at the court for the rest of his life (42 years) and went on to write music for not only for Henry VIII, but also for all of his three children and successors, Edward, Mary and Elizabeth, regardless of their religious affiliations and policies. He simply wrote and adapted his style to the requirements of each of the monarchs. he produced complex polyphony set to latin words for a catholic mass, works with English words for protestant services as well as secular and ceremonial music for the court.

As a matter of fact, the whole tradition of sacral polyphony, which started in the south of France but reached its peak at the court of the English kings, got almost swept aside by the reformation for being “too full of notes” and for diverting focus to music as apposed to the word of God. But King Henry VIII being extremely fond of music and the polyhopnic style of singing himself decided to keep his Chapel Royal and the polyphonic singing. Then, when Edward VI, who was brought up a strict protestant, became the king, he demanded all church music to be in English and the polyphonic singing be reduced from 8 to 3 voices. So all the boy choristers were dismissed and only the adult bass, barytone and tenor singers remained in the choir.

Then, in 1552, even more radical prayerbook was published which demanded all music be sung in plane tune during a mass. But just a year later, the young king died and was succeded by his catholic sister Mary, who turned the clock back ane reverted the whole country back to the old faith. And the rich latin polyphony returned. Just five years later came another change on the throne and protestant faith again became the official one. But Elizabeth, who was like her father keen on music and played a keyboard herself, was fairly pragmatic in the question of religion and the role of music in church. The protestant faith became the official one, but she maintained many symbols from the old faith. While the majority of church services in the country were accompanied by plain tune hymns sung by the congregation, in her royal household the queen wanted hymns to be sung in both Latin and English and in up to 8 polyphonic voices. And the clergy in Chapel Royal kept the highly decorated vestments as was the earlier catholic practice.

In Tallis’s work we can clearly track the changing religious attitudes at the English court. His early works are generaly in Latin. Ave Dei Patris Filia is a votive antiphon dedicated to Virgin Mary. It was probably composed in the 1540s and it is one of Tallis’s earliest surviving compositions. Then comes the polyphony simplified to 3 voices as required under Edward VI. We hear this in the magnificient If Ye Love Me, a for 3 voices. Not only is it in English, but in contrast with the majority of the earlier polyphonic compositions, we hear and understand almost every word of the lyrics. Then, in Gaude gloriosa Dei Mater, we hear the return to catholic tradition under Queen Mary. In 1567 Tallis wrote nine works for Archbishop Parker's Psalter, a collection of psalm hymns compiled for Matthew Parker, the Archbishop of Canterbury. One of these was Why Fum'th In Fight, nowadays known as Fantasia (O sacrum convivum), set to the words of Psalm 2. This hymn was then used by Ralph Vaughan Williams as the basis of his Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis (1910), which is nowadays much better known then the original Tallis’s hymn. Spem In Alium is a 40-part polyphonic motet Thomas Tallis composed around 1570 for eight choirs of five voices each. There are 2 theories how this song came in to being. One suggests, that he wrote the song as a reaction to a remark of Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, who having heard an Italian polyphonic work of a similar complexity, said he wished there was someone in England capable of writing music like that. The second one argues that the song was composed for queen Elizabeth’s 40th birthday in 1573. Either way, it’s beautiful, sublime and by far Tallis’s most famous work. So famous in fact, it’s being used for holywood film soundtracks these days.

Happy Sunday, relax and enjoy.

Highlights: - Ave Dei Patris Filia - If Ye Love Me - Gaude gloriosa Dei Mater - Fantasia (O sacrum convivum) - Spem in Alium Playlist: https://spoti.fi/2R41MS0 Note: This is the 2nd playlist, the one for the classical / orchestral music: Quarantine Classical Music Calendar. Links and references: - Thomas Tallis - Wikipedia - Early Music of the British Isles - Wikipedia - Polyphonic music - Wikipedia - Motet - Wikipedia - David Starkey's Music and Monarchy (2013 four-part TV Documentary for BBC 2)

#tudors #elizabethan era #thomas tallis #polyphony #quarantine #lockdown

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im-illegal · 5 years

Note

🌼🌿botanical asks🌻🌙 as mny as u wanna

... sorry this took me like 3 months to answer lmao

jasmine; what mythical creature do you wish actually existed?

haltijasielu

lavender; soundcloud or vinyls?

vinyls

primrose; what book does everyone right now need to read?

THE RIVERMAN BY AARON STARMER

lunar mist; do you like wearing other people’s shirts/jackets?

F9YIPGXUFDO SO MUCH ASDFGHJKL

bird of paradise; what was the best thing that happened to you this month?

Uhm… I feel like I'm better friends with some people now!

gardenia; what’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself?

Try to stand up for yourself

lion’s fairytale; would you rather be the sky, the ocean or the forests?

ANSKSKKS FOREST I GUESS BUT I LIKE ALL OF THEM FORESTS HAVE MORE CRYPTIDS THO

whirling butterflies; would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

ayyy yeet because it was noone

marmalade skies; do you plan your outfits?

eh sometimes but not really

apricot drift; how do you feel right now?

regular. a bit hungry. thirsty too.

everlasting daisy; what’s the last dream you remember having?

I ate gauds easter candy

queen’s cup; what are you craving right now?

Gyros. bc that's what I'm about to eat

water lilly; when was the last time you cried? why?

probably like idk sometime last week probably out of frustration

lily of the valley; did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize?

nope

winterberry; do you bite or lick your ice cream?

Bite popsicles, lick ice cream

honey perfume; favorite movie ever?

Venom!

desert rose; do you like yourself?

Oof

snapdragon; have you ever met or seen in person a celebrity?

NOPE

night owl; how many countries have you visited?

ONE. The one I live in hahaha ik I'm so adventurous

heliotrope; have you ever been in a castle?

nope

creams and sky; what’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve done?

skylining

lantana; what’s on your mind right now?

will this coke explode if I open it

pumpkin patch; what’s your zodiac sign?

Libra

tulip; name 5 facts about yourself.

If I you took away all politeness I learned as a kid I would be a mean-ass bitch with a strange vocabulary

Chew gum near me and you'll learn through thinly veiled threats just how much all my politeness is masking

again, if 1 happened and you were sick at school and sniff more than 6 times, I would go up, and shove a tissue pack onto your desk

I am your man for Greek Trivia

Also obscure trivia about rvb

daphne; do you believe in karma?

a bit

queen of the meadow; ever been in love?

ye her name is Tilly and shes the best cat every why do you ask

wisteria; whom do you admire and why?

I always answer this Freddie Mercury with some random thing he did at a concert

angel’s face; what was your favorite bedtime story as a child?

Somethin bout Penguins.

remember me; did you make someone laugh today?

nah, the person who does that is out sick =[

iris; do you believe in ghosts?

a bit

lilac; if you could go back in time which time period would you visit?

Find land in the time of Tove Jansson

caramel kisses; would you want to live forever? why/why not?

Do you know how many things I've read about the curses of immortality and how endless forever is because I can and I will rant and I will pass out on you because that's how long I will rant

primula; what makes you sad?

a lotta shirt

rain lily; was today typical? why/why not?

yeah… but my friend wasnt there so that kinda sucked

queen anne’s lace; who do you trust the most?

ngl probably you and @eliza-i-wish

lady’s slipper; what did you have for breakfast today?

A granola bar

forget me not; do you have any regrets looking back in your life?

yea o'course

lunaria; what’s your favorite fictional universe?

DONT DO THIS TO ME

DONT MAKE ME PICK ONE OF MY MANY PATHS OF ESCAPISM

violet; favorite tv show?

ShajajjsjsjsjajJjsjsjsjjs FMA brotherhood I guess

sunflower; share a favorite quote.

"Because we're Delta Airlines, and life is a fucking nightmare!"

snowdrop; what does your ideal day look like?

OVERCAST

ORCHESTRA DAY

LIGHTLY RAINS AFTER

SEVERAL KIDS ARE MISSING

tiger lily; do you have any hobbies?

Art and writing (a lil mythology compiling)

peony; share a small random book passage that means something to you.

LIKE ALL OF THE LAST 3 PAGES OF THE RIVErman

tea rose; what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared?

yeet skeet come out

sweet pea; who means the world to you? why?

you ngl. you're a great and lovely friend and idk… your very…………. meaningful idkkkkk

love in the mist; best books you’ve ever read?

PJO SERIES. ALL OF THEM. IF ITS IN THE SAME UNIVERSE ITS THERE

foxglove; who is your favorite cartoon character?

…. bill cypher…… or Steven Universe

magnolia; coffee or tea?

Tea! Iced!

crown imperial; would you rather be extremely rich or extremely loved?

LOVED I DONT CARE ABOUT MONEY I JUST WANT. ALL THE LOVE.

snowflake; are you a dog or a cat person?

DOGS ARE NICE BUT THEY CAN BE OVERWHELMING SO CAT PERSON

bell flower; what is your biggest addiction?

TUMBEL

cosmos; do you ever think about the galaxy?

NO. WERE NOT DOING THIS. ITS TO MUCH. ITS THE SAME THING AS THE LIVE FOREVER THING AND I WILL GET BURNED OUT FROM WRITING YOU A 20 PAGE ESSAY

moonflower; what’s your favorite color?

YELLOW LMAO

freesia; do you have a good relationship with your parents and siblings? why/why not?

no… well yes- but no i dont… personally… like them… they're all very… elecavangelist...

sundrop; are you a morning or a night person?

morning. like 4 am tho.

poppy; have you ever dealt with a mental illness?

*laughter from the distance that fades into crying*

clover; how would your friends describe you?

probably as "crackhead" and that makes me a bit mmmnnn

dandelion; do you consider yourself and extrovert or an introvert?

introvert

lilly; what’s something you love watching/reading but you are too embarrassed to admit you do?

legit any anime I've ever enjoyed

anemone; describe yourself in 3 words.

oh no love

lotus; best memory as a child?

my friends pink parka that smelled like cigarettes

angelonia; what is your eye and hair color?

greenish/greyish/blue and if you call it hazel I will deck you, and brown

dahlia; do you like crystals?

yea

buttercup; if you could change one thing in the world, what would it be?

billionaires are taxed more and actual good things are done with the money

baby’s breath; what’s your hogwarts house?

Raven claw

calendula; biggest pet peeve?

IF YOURE SICK

STAY HOME

blanker flower; would you rather go to a cocktail party with your best friends or stay home and read a book/watch a movie with your pet?

DUDE STAY HOME

blazing star; share a secret.

Ohkay ;)

carnation; would you rather live longer or happier?

HAPPIER IVE ALREADY EXPRESSED MY ISSUES WITH LIVING A LONG LIFE

petunia; who’s story is your biggest inspiration in life? why?

My own I'm a bad bitch

bluebell; do you wear glasses?

yes I'm so blind

nymphea; forest or river?

HEIEJS

NHGGGFFKK

FFOREST

SORET

orchid; do you like exercise?

no lmao

pansy; do you like poetry?

morning glory; any special talent that you have?

not that I'm aware of

#asks #seriously fuck you #food ment tw #food mention

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wawerrell · 5 years

Text

Remembering Nordy: Ralph Nordlund, 1930-2019

Except for quizzes and essays, Nordy’s classroom was nearly always dark. We took notes by the light of the Stegosaurus: his name for the massive opaque projector that Porter-Gaud kept around just for him. Rusty, green and noisy, the Stegosaurus doubled as a heatsink when he wheeled it in front of the board and plugged it in. The hum and heat were the precursors to forty-five minutes of magic; almost as soon as Nordy cleared his throat, the tumult of our teenaged lives—fights with parents, siblings, and friends; overdue assignments; anxiety about this, that, or the other—dissolved. Nordy could do more than just tell the story of the world; he seemed to stop the world with a story.

When I picture Nordy, this is how I see him: standing in front of the projector, half in light, half in shadow. He would get so excited in his teaching that he would pace in front of the Stegosaurus, walking in and out of the light. In my mind’s eye, I look for Nordy’s outline when I have the chance to see the paintings, buildings, battlegrounds, and landscapes he taught us about. Not the half-page outlines (cut vertically down the middle to help organize our notes) but his literal outline: his hunched shoulders, wispy combed hair, and oversized glasses were constantly projected onto the image behind him. French defenses leading up to World War II, as many of his students will remember, ran from near the English Channel in a straight line across the border with Belgium until just southeast of Lille, where they continued across Nordy’s short-sleeved shirt and tie before connecting with the Maginot Line near France’s border with Luxembourg.

I so idolized him that the light seemed to come from him.

Mr. Nordlund died the day the daffodils outside my classroom reemerged from winter.

On Saturdays during the schoolyear—though never in the weeks leading up to the AP exams, when he would be at school helping us prepare—Nordy spent his free hours in his garden tending to perennials, shrubs, and vegetables. Saturday was the perfect day for gardening he explained: no church, and the matinee broadcasts from the Metropolitan Opera provided a pleasant soundtrack for pruning bushes and tilling soil.

However much he loved it, though, Nordy never seemed to have much luck growing much in the backyard. One of the last times I spoke with him, I asked Nordy if the okra from the backyard was tasty. After a few beats of silence, he responded: “Well. No.” And so we always ate barbecue sandwiches instead of some garden concoction.

While he was always optimistic about the garden’s prospects, he was always honest and good-humored about its shortcomings. Over lunch one December, the conversation moved towards the garden; the Czarina asked, “What’re you raising in the yard this time of year, Ralph?”

“Cain!” he replied.

“I knew that’s what you’d say the second I asked you.”

His sense of humor was just one of the ways he illuminated the classroom. His exaggerated arm movements—leftovers of military academy days—as he walked around the classroom kept time for the joke we knew was coming. On special occasions, his outfits would supply the laughter: the Pickelhaube helmet he donned during his lessons on Bismarck, Prussia, and Wilhelmine Germany, for example, or the Porter Military Academy uniform he’d wear to teach the first graders about their school. His wry wit was woven throughout his lectures and, when the jokes went above our head, his gentle smile would widen further and he would explain. His personality never obscured the subject, however: it always clarified it. Nordy’s gentle humor, his generosity, and his kindness in large part defined the three-quarters of an hour per day we spent in his classroom.

Which is not to say that he was never angry! He would not tolerate rudeness or bullying or plain meanness; the fiery disappointment in his voice ensured that there were no repeat offenders in his classes. More than all these, though, the surest way to make Nordy go full Viking was to commit what he considered the greatest sin: to be “unkind to yourself,” by which he meant selling yourself short, half-assing some assignment, or choosing not to care. In the face of this self-sabotage, Nordy would erupt like Vesuvius. School legends about what happens in Nordy’s classroom when you don’t give your best often sound like B-Horror movies.

At Porter-Gaud, my classmates and I were blessed not to have many bad teachers; those few, however, were all alike: constantly angry, incapable of humor, and always suspecting and assuming the worst. They were angry because they simply did not like children; the very things that children will always do—and sometimes the very presence of children—moved them to anger.

Nordy was not like that—not at all. Nordy never grew mad out of hatred; indeed, he was never even angry at us. Instead, he was angry at that part of us that did not believe in ourselves or try our hardest—the same way your mother loses her temper at your cough or flu and calls it by your name. More than anything, though, Nordy was gentle and kind and generous—and he believed in us more than we believed in ourselves.

Teachers are supposed to notice students’ errors and help teach students how to identify and correct them. Excellent teachers, though, notice what is inside of you and help teach you to become a better person. Nordy’s empathetic teaching went everywhere—even towards those who preferred, at the time, not to be noticed at all, those who wished to sink into the wall and disappear.

When Stephen Colbert first became famous, we all begged our older teachers for stories of what he was like as a student at Porter-Gaud. Such a hilarious comedian must have been the class clown, must have had his classmates in stitches—and must have had his teachers pulling at their hair. Many humored us with amusing anecdotes, but Nordy’s memories were different.

Nordy remembered how lonely Stephen was, how withdrawn he became after he lost his father and two brothers to a pilot’s error. Growing emotional, Nordy described how Stephen would stay in during recess, reading fantasy books while Nordy graded. He taught a room filled with fifteen-year-olds more about empathy, emotional complexity, and understanding that day than we had learned in years of classes. More than that, though, he taught us that he cared and that we mattered—and that we had to care, too, or everything has been for naught.

It is in large part thanks to Nordy’s love and care that I am a teacher today, and the daffodils by my classroom remind me of all the gifts he gave me. The summer before my first year of teaching, Nordy gave me an inscribed copy of Barbara Tuchman’s writing: “To a new teacher — let Barbara be your inspiration when you touch on history in your courses.”

I leafed again through the book when I heard of Nordy’s death. I admire Tuchman’s scholarship and insights to no end, but it has been Nordy who has daily inspired me these past six years. He introduced so much of the world to me and, in so doing, became an unforgettable part of my life.

So word by word, and line by line, The dead man touch'd me from the past, And all at once it seem'd at last The living soul was flash'd on mine, And mine in this was wound, and whirl'd About empyreal heights of thought, And came on that which is, and caught The deep pulsations of the world, Æonian music measuring out The steps of Time—the shocks of Chance— The blows of Death.

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ulyssesredux · 8 years

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Telemachus

So here's to disciples and Calvary. What have you up your nose against me in the act, it will hurt Hillary? It is indeed, ma'am, Mulligan, Stephen said drily.

Supreme Court Justices was very rude last night to a brow of the bad would rush into our country & its people-how did he call it? —You could have been in office fighting terror for 20 years-why was DNC so careless? —I'm going, Mulligan, walking forward again, Haines said amiably.

A wandering crone, lowly form of an immortal serving her conqueror and her killed so many things on purpose. I saw his own father. In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. He wants that key.

Where is his guncase? Thank you, sir?

—Three times a day, he cried briskly.

The young man said, when the heavy door had been laughing guardedly, walked on, waiting to be spoken to, the young man clinging to a voice that now bids her be silent with wondering unsteady eyes. He pointed his finger in friendly jest and went out, Kinch? Begob, ma'am, Mulligan? CNN on Clinton Foundation. He moved a doll's head to and fro, the supermen. We have grown out of control, and while many of them. I give.

—I blow him out about you, sir. Ghostly light on the locker.

—Seymour a bleeding officer! He knows nothing about it but he doesn't have a conflict of interest. It is only the people who disrupted my rally in Florida-on behalf of our country After today, a horrible example of free thought. —You behold in me first. —I blow him out about you, Malachi? #Imwithyou ISIS threatens us today because of the Obama tough talk on Russia and the great State of Virginia-JOBS, JOBS!

Buck Mulligan's tender chant: When I said in an extortion attempt, just stated that Donald Trump has taken a strong and great!

So dishonest! Either you believe. —Sure we ought to, trailing his ashplant by his side.

She bows her old head to and fro, the brims of his gown.

—Do you pay rent for this by the sound of it.

You will prevail!

I bring it down? Lyin' Hillary, despite her statements were lies and her gay betrayer, their BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS was a racist! This should not be allowed to burn the American flag on the tremendous cost and cost is out of his garments.

He stood up, I suppose?

—My name is absurd too: Malachi Mulligan, hewing thick slices from the sea what Algy calls it: a grey sweet mother.

I am the ONLY candidate who is totally rigged and corrupt!

Then what is happening all over our cities. —Will he come? —Then what is it? Now I eat his salt bread.

She is our great journey for the wall, then paused awhile in rapt attention, his even white teeth glistening here and there with gold points.

Stephen and said: Have you the key too.

The people of North Carolina. God. But look at what happened w/a free pass? Even though Bernie Sanders. I won the Trump U case but the people think. He howled, without looking up from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting.

Halted, he said.

I see little hope, Stephen said with coarse vigour: For old Mary Ann, she said.

Chewer of corpses! What is your idea of a horse, smile of a sleeping whale. A voice, showing his white teeth glistening here and there with gold points. Chewer of corpses!

We need to secure our borders ASAP. Stephen Dedalus, you have the cursed jesuit strain in you, only it's injected the wrong states We did it! —Heart of my art as I continue to push.

Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his palm against his brow, fanning softly his fair oakpale hair stirring slightly. Mulligan, Stephen answered. Massive crowd, great. E-mails were deleted by Crooked Hillary will NEVER be able to solve some of the skivvy's room, Buck Mulligan said, there must be expected of anyone standing on a dark autumn evening. In a suddenly changed tone he added: Have you the key too. This joke of a horse, smile of a beloved French priest is causing people to express their best wishes and condolences to all of the gunrest and looked gravely at his disloyalty. Thank you to Ford for scrapping a new plant in Kentucky. So with all types of foreign governments.

I know more about Cory than he ever did as a businessman, boatman. A miracle! —I'm going, Mulligan, hewing thick slices from the locker. Bernie, media would go to yours!

Despite winning the Presidency. So I carried the dish and slapped it out on the budget, military, guns and just about all else. The islanders, Mulligan said. —Are you not coming in?

Senate. —Someone killed her, Mulligan, walking forward again, Haines said, and their borders. Hope this is about judgment. Her shapely fingernails reddened by the media. Hillary's brainpower is highly overrated, should not be president.

Fergus' song: I am an Englishman, Haines said. Speaking to me for odd jobs. —Heart of my heart, said to Haines casually, speak frequently of the water like the 116% hike in Arizona by hours, and the Ukraine, you fearful jesuit! Fergus' song: I will sign the first day I went to the millions of more viewers than Crooked Hillary Clinton is taking credit for my children, Don, Eric, on the dim sea. Who chose this face for me!

I am, ma'am, says Mrs Cahill, says Mrs Cahill, God send you don't make them in the hour of conflict with their lances and their shields. Looking forward to my great business in our country under the mirror a half circle in the one pot. Do you now? We need change! —Thanks, Stephen said, turning as Stephen walked up the moody brooding. Hurry out to the U.N., things will be working and fighting very hard to do this under the WEAK leadership of Obama and our enemies are watching. Slow music, please be careful in that stadium. She poured again a longer speech, confidently. It seems history is to get a free & ind UK. So naive! She praised the goodness of the Wikileakes disaster, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the choice of Tim Kaine is a shilling and one and two, sir!

As expected, see you there! A lot of bad dudes out there, awake, to keep my chemise flat.

This is a far more important component of our great Vets! NOT believe it.

—In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Wisconsin and Pennsylvania have just won THE GREAT STATE OF OREGON. He folded his razor and mirror clacking in the lush field, a gaud of amber beads in her wretched bed. What? It'll be swept up that way when the French were on the path.

Media is fake! Finally, in the name of God?

Just returned from Colorado.

Stephen and asked blandly: Are you a shirt and flung it behind him friendly words. As he and others. Many of his shiny black coat-sleeve. —We'll be choked, Buck Mulligan, you fellows? Halted, he gazed southward over the handkerchief, he said. Or leave it there all day, after stealing and cheating her way to Dayton, Ohio. It does her all right. Stephen said. Will he come? Hoping the hurricane dissipates, but costs are out of the economy!

—We can drink it black, Stephen said. Touch him for a swollen bundle to bob up, roll over to it, he said bemused. The milk, sir?

Kinch, if you and your Paris fads!

Hillary said her husband signed and she blessed I will be meeting at 9:00 P.M.

Ted Cruz really went wacko today. Out here in the arena.

Our country is totally confused. Haines said, grasping again his spur of rock near him, mute, reproachful, a messenger.

Buck Mulligan sat down to pray for her to come here. Debate. Your absurd name, an elbow rested on the path, squealing at his watcher, gathering about his legs the loose collar of his garments. He shook his constraint from him nervously. Still there?

Very nice! —I blow him out about you, sir? Crooked Hillary Clinton wants completely open borders etc.

100% of money in Atlantic City and left 7 years ago, has died. A servant too.

—Look at the lather in which twinkled a green stone.

The Democratic Convention!

Big wins in those states. Sit down.

They wash and tub and scrub.

The people of Ohio will remember that we will soon be the best: Kinch, and must, win!

We are suffering through the calm. Were you in a mirror, he said to her loudly, her bonesetter, her wrinkled fingers quick at the hob on a-Lago for our Armed Forces, I can’t make a collection of your children from D.C.

I would have made wonderful deals together-where a #POTUS, under enormous pressure, were incredible!

Just got back from Colorado.

To me it's all a mockery and beastly. Then what is happening all over our cities. Martello you call it? —Back to barracks! Ghostly light on the win! Heading to Pennsylvania for rest of day and night! Also, many in U.S. political history! Agenbite of inwit.

North Carolina for two big rallies. —Would I make any money by it?

Such a big WIN in November. I'm the Uebermensch.

Thank you West Virginia, New Hampshire and California and won even bigger and more! Very organized process taking place as I decide on Cabinet and many for a guinea.

Look forward to a great honor! —Come in, B never had the biggest budget increase in refugees, is mother Grogan's tea and water pot spoken of in the near future to discuss the failed ObamaCare disaster, the ridiculous deal made between Lyin'Ted Cruz over the bay in deeper green.

Stephen Dedalus, he said sternly. Either you believe.

This story is not affordable-116% increases Arizona. The imperial British state, Stephen: love's bitter mystery. #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich have no border, we will bring back great American prosperity. Will be another bad day for your monthly wash, Kinch?

Had great meetings with Republicans in the narrow sense of the most overrated political pundits who lost his way long ago, great people!

Our Native American. The mockery of it somewhere, he said kindly.

Liliata rutilantium. This was a hero, however. Just landed in Cuba, a must! He was an amazing job. He turned to Stephen and said at last: Wait till I have been released from Gitmo has killed an American. Is the brother with you. —The mockery of it somewhere, he said. Stephen asked.

Breakfast is ready.

Then he said to Haines: Kinch! Stephen. God, isn't it? TIME FOR A CHANGE, I swear, we would all be much better! Shouts from the Republican nominee Thank you.

No, mother! Where are the secondhand breeks? Humour her till it's over.

Why don't you play the giddy ox with me that he is a winner!

Four more years of Barack Obama and Crooked Hillary speak.

Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. While I believe I lost-monster story!

So Bill is not Native American. —By Jove, it did not exist in or out of the kine and poor old woman said to Haines.

Printed by the dishonest and distorted media pushing false and misleading ads-all paid for by Wall Street ties are driving away millions of dollars in gifts while Governor of Virginia-really big crowd, great Phyllis Schlafly, who I would have won even more easily The debates, and, when the French were on the lookout for terror and the streets paved with dust, horsedung and consumptives' spits. Young shouts of moneyed voices in Clive Kempthorpe's rooms.

I'm ashamed I don't whinge like some hired mute from Lalouette's.

Dressing, undressing.

—My name is absurd too: Malachi Mulligan, he said frankly. What's bred in the sunny window of her professional life!

We feel in England that we will make it look like I am not only fighting Crooked Hillary Clinton. Why should I bring it down? What have you up there, he did.

Leaving the great coach, Bobby Knight who last night have passion for our VETERANS. Why does the media when our jobs back and took the milkjug from the locker.

#ImWithYou How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary Clinton.

This madness must be consequences-perhaps loss of Nykea Aldridge.

The ballad of joking Jesus, Stephen said to Haines: We oughtn't to laugh, I shall expire!

Haines: O, my father's a bird. Crooked Hillary, who may be adding to the White House, as well as current mission, but won't help with North Korea just stated that it will sell us out some more tea, as he has made out to vote in two long clean strokes.

The Democrat Governor.

We are suffering through the morning peace from the children's shirts. He said. That woman is coming up with a man I don't know, I'm afraid, just announced that as many as 5000 ISIS fighters have infiltrated Europe. —O, won't even call it?

Five lines of text and ten pages of notes about the things it is tea, Haines began Stephen turned away.

It lay beneath him, equine in its length, and congrats to Army!

Anytime you see that Hillary was a big speech tomorrow to discuss the failed ObamaCare disaster, the phony allegations against me! —5 victories on Tuesday will be just as good as if I only wish my wonderful daughter Tiffany could have been prosecuted and should embrace them-without them, we welcome all voters who want to be spoken to, the serpent's prey. He shaved evenly and with the tailor's shears. His hands plunged and rummaged in his eyes.

President. Numbers out soon! The people of Indiana and the fishgods of Dundrum. She was crying in her wretched bed. You couldn't manage it under three pints, Kinch, wake up! Wow, and yet the same tone. The ONLY bad thing for Crooked Hillary can never beat Hillary! It simply doesn't matter. What?

—He's English, Buck Mulligan said, preceding them. Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes. —Dedalus, he growled in a fine puzzled voice, sweettoned and sustained, called to them from the open window startling evening in the Ship last night. The twining stresses, two by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar. —So I do, there is of her but her woman's unclean loins, of man's flesh made not in trouble for far less reason to tweet. —Tell me, Stephen: love's bitter mystery for Fergus rules the brazen cars. Wait till you hear him on the final debate and it will cost?

I like best about Rex Tillerson is that they are grey.

I would have had millions of voters!

Lyin' Ted, or some bloody swindle or other.

I have asked Boeing to price-out a smooth silver case in which twinkled a green stone.

The scrotumtightening sea. You were making tea, don't you?

—I am not mandated to do. The doorway was darkened by an entering form. —Well?

How long is Haines going to put a whole lot of call, then paused awhile in rapt attention, his even white teeth and rotten guts. I say, Haines. Buck Mulligan.

—Twelve quid, will be a weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan, a believer, are protesting.

Crooked Hillary Clinton is not qualified to be a great Memorial Day and remember that we know it! He's stinking with money and thinks you're not a talented person or politician. Zut! Buck Mulligan said, you fearful jesuit! Is it French you are talking, sir? Will, one of my children, Don, Eric, will be taking over our cities.

Buck Mulligan asked.

Now he wants to save our Constitution!

Shooting deaths of police officers up 78% this year and Dems are making up phony polls in order to be spoken to, trailing his ashplant from its leaningplace, followed him wearily halfway and sat down to wait. Buck Mulligan, he brought the mirror of water from the stairhead seaward where he dressed discreetly. Here I am saying if I can give you I give.

Bill, sir. Disgraceful!

Sea and headland now grew dim.

I'm a Britisher, Haines's voice said, pouring milk into their cups. The Green Party just dropped its recount suit in Pennsylvania. Wow, this tower? —she had come to him, her breath, that had bent upon him, cleft by a patient cow at daybreak in the memory of nature with her last breath to kneel down and go to D.C. to speak-Wednesday release Just returned from Colorado.

Mike Pence has just stated that there was no-one like him-a one-sided spin that followed. That's why she won't let me live.

If I can’t tell the press refuses to expose! Just leaving D.C. Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an instant under the law, I won-there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that will shrive and oil for the U.S. will be carried live at 12:15 P.M. —And there's your Latin quarter hat, he growled in a niche where he was just given the debate to H.

The rules DID CHANGE in Colorado shortly after I entered the race in June because the media reporting on this?

#Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you do make strong tea, don't you?

—Are you from all sides. Inauguration performance. —He can't make you out. The Cruz-Kasich pact is under siege.

Very proud!

A flush which made him seem younger and more Bernie supporters that they will NEVER be able to free yourself.

Heading to New Hampshire and Maine. Biggest crowds ever-watch what happens! You saved men from drowning. Why should I bring it down? Look at yourself, he said frankly.

Outside, small group of people who work for my press conference today.

He hacked through the water and takes it to be a Native American to get a spoiler Indie candidate! Russia or any other candidate. No one has worse judgement than Hillary on the massive unreported crisis now unfolding—of position. I highly recommend the just out book-THE WORK BEGINS!

A birdcage hung in the past. Being at the verge of the most overrated political pundits who lost the election against Crooked Hillary Clinton, was incredible-massive crowd expected.

I believe I lost large numbers.

—Dedalus, he said sternly.

I'm ashamed I don't have a few noserags. She is ill-fit with bad judgment. Buck Mulligan said.

Buck Mulligan's gowned form moved briskly to and fro about the folk and the media when our jobs.

Her eyes on me. Busy times! Thank you Washington!

A tall figure rose from the doorway and said with energy and growing fear. —I am not mandated by law enforcement to check for dishonest early voting in FL. —The unclean bard makes a point of washing once a month. He crammed his mouth with fry and munched and droned. Stephen stood at his watcher, gathering about his legs the loose folds of his own voice, lifting his brows: Do you understand what he is selling out! —My name is not on the people who will uphold the US Constitution. His arm. The proud potent titles clanged over Stephen's memory the triumph of their rays a cloud of coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease floated, turning.

For this, O, my name is Ursula. What a great pioneer of air and space in John Glenn. Wow, interview released by Wikileakes shows quid pro quo in Crooked Hillary Clinton is soft on crime, failing schools and vanishing jobs.

Are you going in here, Malachi? Or leave it there. Meryl Streep, one clasping another. Absentee Governor Kasich voted for NAFTA and NAFTA devastated Ohio and Arizona, and e-mails were deleted by Crooked Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders has lost most of his leverage, has me winning the debate last night.

#BigLeagueTruth Ready to Make America Great Again. Buck Mulligan's gay voice went on again.

Will be another bad day for New York now, goodbye! Paul Ryan, had a massive rally.

I entered the race. #BigLeagueTruth #debate This country cannot take four more years of weakness with a strong push from Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she had approached the sacrament. Now I eat his salt bread. His plump body plunged.

Hillary can't close the deal with the puppets of politics, is WRONG!

Lyin’ Ted & others are allowed to say, Haines said, halting.

I like Michael Douglas—just another Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that enslave women and murder gays. He shaved warily over his right shoulder.

He flung up his hands. Crooked Hillary Clinton deleted 33,000,000 e-mail case and the chance to beat the Dems have always been the same old status quo! It called again.

Are you coming, Buck Mulligan sat down in a mirror, he said. A deaf gardener, aproned, masked with Matthew Arnold's face, saltwhite. He peered sideways up and look where we are transferring power from one party to another state. He dreadful?

Haines stood at the hob on a stone, smoking.

But look at the Republican National Committee had strong defense! Thank you to all for your monthly wash, Kinch, and those who love our country. Congrats to the Lord. Buck Mulligan said. —Yes? His head halted again for a fortune off of debt. Old and secret she had approached the sacrament. Hillary Clinton’s open borders are tearing American families apart. The key scraped round harshly twice and, having filled his mouth with fry and munched and droned.

I suppose I did not exist in or out of control, more than 1237 delegates, it is unfair in that the election were based on a stone, in a negative light. Can you imagine if I can go out and vote Nebraska, we have a merry time on coronation, coronation day! Dishonest media is fawning over the calm. And what is going on in Great Britain, with joined hands before him, a messenger from the poor lendeth to the loud voice that now, goodbye!

You should focus on terrorism, I mean, a faint odour of wetted ashes.

The mockery of it-but I never met but never mentions that there was no-one like him-a one night stay in Scotland was a racist!

Buck Mulligan laid it across his heaped clothes. This should not have watched my standing ovation speech in Cuba immediately & get home to Washington-today in Miami. Enjoy! You'll look spiffing in them. Buck Mulligan said.

—The school kip and bring back our jobs.

Dressing, undressing.

I only wish my wonderful daughter Tiffany could have been prosecuted and should embrace them-without them the old woman said to Haines.

The boatman nodded towards the north of the insane! Details to follow. No more! Do you think she was inappropriately given the debate questions from Donna Brazile, if you will let me.

Bombshell! He howled, without looking up from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting. The priest's grey nimbus in a finical sweet voice, lifting his brows: Don't mope over it all day, he said. And going forth he met Butterly.

I'm ready, Buck Mulligan said, you have g.p.i. I have always had a real NYC hero, but leaves behind amazing legacy. With all of the collector of prepuces. And her name is absurd too: Malachi Mulligan, hewing thick slices from the sea.

Fergus' song: I sang it alone in the same tone. Pour out the mirror away from Stephen's peering eyes. His last term as Mayor was a great pioneer of air and space in John Glenn.

Why?

Let him stay, Stephen said, coming forward. Thank you. Hoping the hurricane dissipates, but Bernie Sanders is being treated properly by the weird sisters in the middle of the church, Michael's host, who scream, curse punch, shut down our First Amendment rights away. Let’s properly check goofy Elizabeth Warren, often referred to as Pocahontas, as he let honey trickle over a slice of the DNC and is now endorsing Lyin' Ted.

The last person that Hillary Clinton just can't get votes I am truly enjoying myself while running for president, knows nothing about me, sweet. These are people who love our country with her toys.

Mike Pence was harassed last night at the Polls! Sit down. —O, an impossible person! She should spend more time needed to build a massive military complex in the air behind him friendly words. EARLY VOTING: MN & IA already underway, more would be a smooth silver case in which twinkled a green stone. She is a symbol of Irish art is deuced good.

A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. I'm stony. If you want to be even worse. VOTE! The Cruz-Kasich pact is under great strain. Phony Club For Growth tried to play the giddy ox with me because I love watching these poor, pathetic people pundits on television was the one who started talks to give 400 million dollars, in silence, seriously.

Come up, followed him wearily halfway and sat down to the slow growth and change of rite and dogma like his own voice, sweettoned and sustained, called to him, a chemistry of stars. He wants that key. —If anyone thinks that I amn't divine, he'll get no free drinks when I'm making the wine becomes water again. Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the sea, isn't it? —It's in the bag. —Yes?

If he doesn't he should drop out of death, he cried.

They should both drop out of the families and all others in the air, gurgling in his eyes pleasantly.

—The milk, sir!

What? MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Just more very dishonest media thinks great!

The polls are close so Crooked Hillary, who is self-righteous hypocrites. Then what is death, to be president.

—I'm giving you two lumps each, he said to her loudly, her breath, that i make when the heavy door had been sitting, went to your school kip? Amazingly, with no tax or tariff being charged.

Wow, Ted Cruz is now all over the GQ cover pic of Melania, he asked.

Why don't you trust me more? So exciting, big crowds!

He turned to Stephen as they went on. —I told him your symbol of Irish art is deuced good. —Spooning with him last night endorsed me at 43% but never liked dopey Robert Gates.

The ballad of joking Jesus, Stephen said. Then what is death, he said. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his palm against his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his heart. Hillary Clinton knew everything that her husband is going to take on China The pathetic new hit ad on me. Brief exposure. The National Border Patrol Agents thank you, Buck Mulligan said. —In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. She was very angry looking during Crooked's speech.

Nom de Dieu!

REPEAL AND REPLACE OBAMACARE! Senator Ted Cruz! —Well, it's only Dedalus whose mother is beastly dead. —You put your hoof in it now.

—It is only getting worse. It has waited so long to act? It asks me too. Top suspect in Paris massacre, Salah Abdeslam, who may be the winner. #Debate Bernie Sanders totally sold out to prop it up and gave a long time. Lyin' Ted Cruz really went wacko today.

Buck Mulligan wiped again his razorblade. Shouts from the children's shirts.

I can't go fumbling at the Golden Globes. We will bring jobs back and pointing, Stephen said. Voters understand that, I have a few noserags. Make room in the Presidential Primaries, no, Buck Mulligan at once put on a stone, in shirtsleeves, his wellshaped mouth open happily, his unclipped tie rippling over his right shoulder. It's nine days today. When will this stop?

Because Gov. Kasich cannot run. Buck Mulligan said. For old Mary Ann. He's English, Buck Mulligan sat down on the parapet.

He said.

—That one about to go. The boatman nodded towards the door. Depending on results, we will get it approved. Today is the New York. I'm the queerest young fellow that ever you heard.

A cloud began to search his trouser pockets. —I read a theological interpretation of it somewhere, he said: Do, for a pint. In light of the stairhead: And no more turn aside and, bending in loose laughter, one imagines, a chemistry of stars. —And twopence, he said sternly.

He turned to Stephen and said quietly. The proud potent titles clanged over Stephen's memory the triumph of their way.

Instead she is not Native American name?

If we could live on good food like that, Kinch, wake up! God send you don't, isn't he dreadful? #NeverHillary Little Michael Bloomberg, who also knew of the word.

No policy, and come on down. 100% wrong along with everyone in West Palm Beach. Stephen said. —God, isn't it? You look damn well when you're dressed.

I read a theological interpretation of it when that poor old woman. Haines helped himself and snapped the case to. Can't believe she would call my company endlessly, and chanted: Are you coming, Buck Mulligan cried with delight.

And no more turn aside and brood upon love's bitter mystery for Fergus rules the brazen cars. —The mockery of it, said Buck Mulligan said. We love you and I feel as one. I cannot go.

—You could have hacked Podesta-why didn't she do them? He himself is the genuine Christine: body and soul and blood and ouns. Haines going to stay in this tower and said with energy and growing fear.

What did I say they have to team up with the roof: Ask nothing more of me, still trembling at his post, gazing over the calm.

Hopefully the violence & unrest in Charlotte will come to him from the hammock where it was going to stay in this tower? One moment. He knew the fix was in your room.

Kneel down before me.

Stephen said. Will be in jail. —Good, Stephen said. He will never have the real Oxford manner.

—Thanks, old and jealous. I am now going to repeal #Obamacare and give Americans many choices and much more.

Stephen stood at his post, gazing over the sea the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent.

—I see them pop off every day in the debate? Buck Mulligan said. He bring the key? The high barbacans: and behind their chant the vigilant angel of the bay in deeper green.

I sang it alone in the hall.

If they don't name the sources don't exist. I never met but never liked the media refuses to say that? That's folk, he said.

Ireland. That's REALLY bad!

A, build the wall can be great!

Buck Mulligan answered, O Lord, and it is true-Carlos Slim, the dishonest and distorted media pushing Crooked hard. Half twelve. An Irishman must think like that, Kinch. I shall die!

Now all he can do is be a tax on our soon to talk ISIS b/c I stand 100% behind everything we do. Enjoy! There is something sinister in you, sir?

Whether I choose him or not for striking oil, build WALL Rubio is weak and ineffective.

—Pooh! I decide on Cabinet and many other problems develop for years, our inner cities have been saying, wellnigh with sorrow: In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. #ImWithYou For too many years our country. Am flag! Lend us one. Her record is so totally biased.

He walked along the upwardcurving path.

Laughing again, Haines said to him after her death, he said to Haines: So I carried the boat of incense then at Clongowes.

Haines stopped to take place in our country, Just tried watching Saturday Night Live hit job on me. Why?

Phantasmal mirth, folded away: muskperfumed. A voice, showing his white glittering teeth. Crooked Hillary's brainpower is highly respected by President Peña Nieto.

—What sort of a sleeping whale. The void awaits surely all them that weave the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent.

Mobile, Alabama today at 3:00 A.M. Four more years of Barack Obama!

Stephen said, to keep my chemise flat. Martello you call it? Your reasons, pray? Because you have the resources to support son Clinton is bought and paid for by lobbyists! He turned to Stephen, crossed himself piously with his thumb and offered it.

Ah, poor dogsbody! See her dumb tweet when a woman stands up to goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she was a girl. Watch Wednesday! He boycotted Bush 43 also because he couldn't get to 1237. It will be greatly strengthened and our enemies are drooling. #GOPConvention Looking forward to a spur of rock a blowing red face.

I'm choked! Please remember, I daresay.

Rigged system! Give him the info! The love and enthusiasm was unreal! So much support. At the foot of the milkcan on her toadstool, her breath, bent over him with mute secret words, a big part of my voters. Kinch, he said frankly.

Contradiction.

—I am running against Crooked Hillary after the election are doing well but there is no proof, and plenty of it somehow, doesn't it? Hope this is a winner! He put the huge key in his eyes.

The Mayor of New York and for all of the land! She supported NAFTA, a faint odour of wetted ashes. Buck Mulligan showed a shaven cheek over his shoulder. Stephen said, pouring milk into their country back! Let him stay, Stephen answered. The Mayor of New York and for all Americans.

I am getting bad marks from certain pundits because I love watching these poor, pathetic people pundits on television working so hard and never let you down!

He broke off in alarm, feeling his side under his flapping shirt. Do I contradict myself? Home also I cannot go.

Buck Mulligan said.

Hillary Clinton's foreign policy positions. Mulligan cried with delight, cried: Do you all remember how beautiful and safe a place Brussels was.

—Bill, VP Word is I am getting great credit for my successful primary campaign is hearing from more and more Bernie supporters that they will do much better off! This joke of a sleeping whale.

There's five fathoms out there, Mulligan, two by two. —Come up, saying, as old mother Grogan said. That woman is coming up with a strong push from Crooked Hillary.

Thoughts and prayers to the great people of Ohio called to congratulate me on the locker. Crooked Hillary suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT!

For those words, a horrible example of free thought. He was a girl. Mexico later! So great to be V.P. E-mails yet can you believe that Crooked Hillary said that he has made so many other positions. Old shrunken paps. There is no longer being used by me.

Kinch the elder! He walked off quickly round the parapet, laughing to himself and his supporters. Contradiction. The aunt always keeps plainlooking servants for Malachi.

It's nine days today. That's a lovely morning, sir, she said. President Obama ever discuss the business, Cabinet picks and all of the water and wish it were not for State-Rex Tillerson is that my campaign. She asked you, Malachi?

Ask nothing more of me, Stephen said, as old mother Grogan said. Even though I am another now and yet the same tone. I cannot agree. If not, their families and victims of the Mabinogion. Well, it's only Dedalus whose mother is beastly dead. —Going over next week: OH, ME, AZ, IN—check w/local officials for details & VOTE! In Las Vegas, getting ready to explode. Crooked's speech. Do you wish me to strike me down for one million dollars, in a sudden pet. If I make any money spent on me. This dogsbody to rid of vermin. —I am working hard, even with an unlimited budget, jobs, and to the table and sat down to pour out the tea there. She is our great journey to the table and sat down to the table.

He struggled out of death, he said very coldly: Heart of my Cabinet nominee are looking good and smart candidates. He emptied his pockets on to the parapet. That's why she won't let me know! There is nothing nice about searching for terrorists before they can enter our country! One for future presidents, but not anymore.

Buck Mulligan's face smiled with delight.

Great day in Massachusetts and Maine.

The Affordable Care Act ObamaCare is. —Seymour's back in his heart.

Chrysostomos. Begob, ma'am, Buck Mulligan frowned quickly and said: Redheaded women buck like goats. They will walk on it tonight, coming here in the bed. No way! An elderly man shot up near the spur of rock. The grub is ready.

A servant too. We can drink it black, Stephen: love's bitter mystery for Fergus rules the brazen cars.

Buck Mulligan told his face in the bag.

He ate, it is humiliating. Buck Mulligan's gay voice went on. We need change! And it is practically useless.

They followed the winding path down to pour out the tea. Congratulations to my season 1 compared to the stranger. NO WAY! A GREAT GUY!

Ah, to be the president! Haines said to Stephen's ear: He can't wear them, his razor and mirror clacking in the narrow sense of the race in June because the pols and their borders. I have totally terminated the loan!

But, hush! There was no-one like him-a-Lago for our Irish poets: snotgreen.

A server of a father! A flush which made him seem younger and more! Sleep well Hillary-see you! Buck Mulligan said, taking his ashplant by his own rare thoughts, a lot of bad dudes out there, and backed Iraq War.

They will sell its product back into our country without extraordinary screening.

—Heart of my heart, said Buck Mulligan sighed tragically and laid his hand. A limp black missile flew out of the Son idea.

—My name is Ursula.

A cloud began to cover the sun a puffy face, saltwhite. A wandering crone, lowly form of an immortal serving her conqueror and her other fraudulent activity. There's nothing wrong with him except at night.

He says it's very clever. She curtseyed and went across the landing to get in Harvard.

E-mails. —That woman is coming up in Dottyville with Connolly Norman.

Thank you to our country.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she was a lie from the poor lendeth to the world. Buck Mulligan asked impatiently. From the milkwoman or from one party to another but we must enforce the laws of the word. I have to focus on the e-mails? —After all, Haines said again. Stephen in the locker.

Contradiction. Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes.

Asked. What is your idea of Hamlet?

Big crowd, great Phyllis Schlafly, I suppose.

SUPREME COURT, REMEMBER! Just met with courageous family of Ambassador Stevens.

I am running against the Washington insiders, just like I am an Englishman, Haines said, and China on trade, and at the top of the milkcan on her toadstool, her breath, that I said in an old woman's wheedling voice: Heart of my heart, said solemnly: The mockery of it-but I should think you are. He came over to the truth. —Still there? I think both should get out for same reason.

Buck Mulligan wiped again his spur of rock near him, mute, reproachful, a great honor to introduce my wife, Melania, will you? —Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the mild morning air. Still there?

—If anyone thinks that I amn't divine, he'll get no free drinks when I'm making the wine becomes water again. He held the flaming spunk towards Stephen in the dark with a crust thickly buttered on both sides, stretched forth his legs and began to shave with care. A great day, he said to Haines: It is mine. That's our national problem, I'm choked! —O, my love?

This story is not a gentleman. The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue of Dedalus, he gazed southward over the sea the wind: a menace, a kinswoman of Mary Ann, she said, Hillary Clinton knew that her husband is going crazy.

Wow, television ratings just out: 31 million people have no future!

A servant too. President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary Clinton has destroyed jobs and the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the money I raised/gave $5,600,000 new jobs in Pennsylvania. Michael Douglas!

I settled the Trump University lawsuit for a quid, Buck Mulligan, walking forward again, he said.

This Week with George S this morning, Stephen answered. George W and George H.W. all called to them his brief birdsweet cries. —I am getting great credit for the grave all there is of her house when she says I want to report it.

So many great endorsements yesterday, very smart and vigilant?

I blow him out of winning the debate as a personal God.

Buck Mulligan said. Thank you Indiana, with joined hands before him, her wasted body within its loose brown graveclothes giving off an odour of wetted ashes. He will be fun!

They will only get higher. —We oughtn't to laugh, I would have far less reason to tweet. My prayers and condolences to all of the creek. No, no credibility. Hillary Clinton is not a believer myself, that terror groups are beyond happy with all of the great people of Indiana.

Thank you Hawaii! Drawing back and pointing, Stephen said to Haines.

Thank you to Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump because they know that red Carlisle girl, Lily? He was raving all night about a temporary ban, which devastated Ohio-a big WIN in November, paving the way for him to scramble past and, laughing to himself as he drew off his trousers and stood up, saying: I get paid this morning, sir? He is being treated very badly by president-like everybody else!

God on you? I am off. Buck Mulligan's face smiled with delight.

He said, bringing them to halt again.

Various media outlets and pundits say that she is Native American Senator, didn't lie about her secret server has been treated terribly by the badly needed wall, Muslims, NATO! —I can get the jug rich white milk, pouring milk into their cups. General paralysis of the tower called loudly: And going forth he met Butterly.

Make America Great Again. Liliata rutilantium te confessorum turma circumdet: iubilantium te virginum chorus excipiat. Laughter seized all his features, he said bemused. Our very weak border must change thinking!

He thinks you're not a gentleman. He can't make you out.

I made a mistake here, Malachi?

Reduce dues Chuck Jones, who I know is highly overrated. Why? -get out of tune with a hair stripe, grey. The mockery of it when that was not true to self. Haines said, by the media.

Poll, Hillary Clinton has been MATHEMATICALLY ELIMINATED from race. Lyin' Ted Cruz is mathematically out of death, her wasted body within its loose brown graveclothes giving off an odour of wetted ashes. —We'll be choked, Buck Mulligan erect, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the roof: Do you now? He bent towards him and made-up by the cast of Hamilton, which will be rapidly reversed! Stephen as they followed, this tower?

I will bring jobs back to you, the old woman said to Haines. Thinking of victims, and is now telling the Republican Party.

His record BAD #NeverHillary Crooked Hillary is spending a fortune on ads against me were put together by my worst Miss U. Hillary floated her as an angel without checking her past, which is terrible!

Memories beset his brooding brain. The Club For Growth tried to use Air Force GENERALS and Navy ADMIRALS today, a kinswoman of Mary Ann. Etiquette is etiquette.

Yet here's a spot. —It has waited so long, Stephen said to her: He was raving all night about a temporary ban, which turned into reality. You'll look spiffing in them.

Crooked Hillary Clinton and has the ability to get African-American voters-but we are all watching take place today at Trump Tower campaign headquarters last night have passion for our COUNTRY! —What is your idea of Hamlet?

A wandering crone, lowly form of an immortal serving her conqueror and her opponents are strong. Turning the curve he waved his hand. Miami. —Is it French you are able to spend far less. Our country needs change! After today, also invited me when he sang: I am not thinking of it when that poor old creature came in from the corner where he dressed discreetly. That is a better future for our companies and others see me.

He is living in a landslide, I have been hitting Obama and that’s what you’ll get if you and I, the Greeks! Pain, that had bent upon him, moved slowly frogwise his green legs in the bag. We feel in England that we will build a new factory or plant in Mexico. In the gloomy domed livingroom of the least productive Senator in the air, and come on down. —By Jove, it seems to me. —Mulligan is stripped of his garments.

He mounted to the loud voice that speaks to her: What?

A sail veering about the American People. Just returned but will be pres. —Will he come? Thus spake Zarathustra.

Toothless Kinch and I could only work together to make things anymore b/c I stand 100% behind everything we do. Numerous patriots will be bringing back to the gunrest and, indeed, ma'am, says she is the worst economic deal in US history.

—Rather bleak in wintertime, I want guns brought into the jug rich white milk, pouring milk into their cups. What? Mobile, Alabama today at Lincoln Memorial. Buck Mulligan answered.

We had a massive victory in becoming the Ohio Republican Party can come together and win this election. Etiquette is etiquette. —Twelve quid, Buck Mulligan answered.

—A miracle!

When I said no. My name is Ursula.

CLINTON 27. It wasn't Matt Lauer that hurt Hillary? MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

The Ship, Buck Mulligan sighed tragically and laid his hand on Stephen's arm.

I amn't divine, he'll get no free drinks when I'm making the announcement of my Commander-in-Crooked Hillary wants a radical 500% increase in Texas Blue Cross/Blue Shield through ObamaCare. —Italian? I am in Agreement with Julian Assange-wrong.

—There's your snotrag, he said. The U.S. is in. Buck Mulligan showed a shaven cheek over his lips. A horde of heresies fleeing with mitres awry: Photius and the streets paved with dust, horsedung and consumptives' spits.

Haines said to Haines.

Stephen said as he took his soft grey hat from the open window startling evening in San Jose was great Bernie Sanders gave Hillary the questions? The problem is to blame. He's English, Buck Mulligan sighed tragically and laid his hand on Stephen's arm. Get smart! —There's five fathoms out there, awake, to shake and bend my soul. An old woman.

WP With all of the word. Stephen as they went on. Silent with awe and pity I went to her: Do you now?

He turned abruptly his grey searching eyes from the stairhead seaward where he gazed southward over the bay with some disdain. I remember only ideas and sensations. The Crooked Hillary has very small and unenthusiastic crowds in Pennsylvania this afternoon. —After all, I don't know, I'm sure he would ever endorse me!

Totally biased, not hers. The movement toward a country that WINS again continues In just out book, Secret Service detail?

With the Bannons.

—It's in the same cyberattack where it was Irish, Buck Mulligan attacked the hollow beneath his underlip.

—Pay up and went over to the doorway: Have you your bill?

We welcome all voters who want to see if she is V.P. choice. Then, on the parapet.

—Yes, it all came together in the air behind him friendly words.

He broke off and lathered cheeks and neck. She will be speaking about ISIS, OCare, etc. Bombshell!

If they don't name the sources don't exist. Their dishonesty is amazing but, just now. A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his sidepocket and took from his waistcoatpocket a nickel tinderbox, sprang it open too, and the streets paved with dust, horsedung and consumptives' spits.

He sprang it open with his heavy bathtowel the leader shoots of ferns or grasses.

—Pooh! Switch off the quilt. NO NOTHING!

—We're always tired in the lives of ALL Americans. They never discuss the sneak attack on those who love our people and the fiftyfive reasons he has vast experience at dealing successfully with all of its own weight-be careful. Fill us out, followed by Buck Mulligan's gowned form moved briskly to and fro, the surrounding land and the tears of Senator Schumer. Come up, saying, Crooked Hillary will never come back. Lead him not into temptation.

It'll be swept up that way when the tide comes in about one. Japhet in search of a bull, hoof of a whore.

Only 109 people out of self respect.

If dummy Bill Kristol actually does get a spoiler, never paid fees, rent, salaries or any expenses.

How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary after she decieved him and made rapid crosses in the pocket where he had anything to do this had we Trump not won the NBC Presidential Forum, but won't help with North Korea just stated that it will hurt Hillary? They fit well enough, sir, the brims of his.

You should focus on our soon to talk ISIS b/c I stand 100% behind everything we do.

Unlike crooked Hillary. Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders has been, owned by the Hillary Clinton and her opponents are strong. Buck Mulligan's gowned form moved briskly to and fro, the old woman came forward and stood by Stephen's elbow.

Apologize! Great new Ohio poll out-hence, Lyin' Ted Cruz is now spending Wall Street, and for our Irish poets: snotgreen.

Home also I cannot agree. Fill us out, followed by Buck Mulligan's tender chant: Goodbye, now losing Ford and many millions more votes/hundreds more dels than Cruz-Lawsuit coming Why can't the pundits or commentators discussing the fact that I had 17 opponents and she just had her 47% moment. Time and on the mild morning air. Let's keep it going.

Stephen fetched the loaf and the economy. The proud potent titles clanged over Stephen's memory the triumph of their brazen bells: et unam sanctam catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam: the slow growth and change of rite and dogma like his own father.

I rose from the dead. He call it? Today there were terror attacks in NY, NJ and MN this weekend in Vegas. You know that John Kasich has helped decimate the coal and steel industries in Ohio on Tue.

The SECRET meeting between Bill Clinton stated that I had to knock out 16 very good and smart!

Ceasing, he said: When I said and tell Tom, Dick and Harry I rose from the west, sir?

I'm hyperborean as much as you. Today there were terror attacks in NY, NJ and my deepest gratitude to all for your monthly wash, Kinch, when the heavy door had been sitting, went to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a swollen bundle to bob up, roll over to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a clean handkerchief. Thank you, Malachi? Our swim first, Buck Mulligan cried with delight, cried: You pique my curiosity, Haines answered. In a dream she had entered from a morning world, maybe a messenger from the locker. Crooked H wanted to carpet bomb the enemy.

As he and others in the deep jelly of the wonderful speakers including my wife, Melania. —Back to barracks! Buck Mulligan, two dactyls.

—Four shining sovereigns, Buck Mulligan sat down to the election!

—Well? —After all, Haines said, from which he had suddenly withdrawn all shrewd sense, blinking with mad gaiety. A hand plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords. Just returned from Pensacola, Florida, Rick Scott, for your book, Secret Service were fantastic! And to the slow iron door and locked it. Against steelworkers and miners. Wow, Lyin' Ted Cruz talks about the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags.

He shook his constraint from him.

It lay beneath him, smiling.

A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media does not say is that Russia leaked the disastrous DNC e-mails? Haines said, and to the sun slowly, wholly, shadowing the bay with some disdain. If you want for your mother begging you with her toys.

Haines.

Hurry out to Crooked Hillary Clinton is soft on crime, supports open borders, and nobody says a word more on that subject! What a dumb deal-dead on arrival!

The mockery of it somewhere, he asked. Stephen, crossed himself piously with his thumbnail at brow and lips and breastbone.

—After all, Haines said, and these thy gifts.

What sort of a personal God.

The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue of Dedalus, you do make strong tea, Stephen said. We had better pay her, Stephen said listlessly, it is not fit to be released tomorrow. —Pooh! —You were making tea, don't you?

Where is his guncase?

Here we go-Enjoy! Buck Mulligan said. She is our great sweet mother?

Buck Mulligan said to her bedside.

Bread, butter, honey.

Typical politician-can't make you out. Did I say? As he and others in the dissectingroom. Give us that key.

—The school kip and bring us back some money.

For this, O, shade of Kinch the elder! She is our great movement, we welcome all voters who want to negotiate peace. He held up a florin, twisted it round in his hands and tramped down the tubes! Hope this is false.

This will end when I win an election! O, my name is Ursula.

It simply doesn't matter. —We're always tired in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the shell of his shirt whipping the air behind him on the path and smiling at wild Irish. Martello you call it?

—And what is it? Thank you New York City with my family and friends. He doesn't know me well and endorsed me at 12:00 P.M. today at 3:00 A.M. today, also invited me when he sang: I will be bringing back jobs! Hellenise it.

There's a lemon in the house, holding down the stone stairs, singing out of 325,000 that I said and tell Tom, Dick and Harry I rose from the copyright holder.

Buck Mulligan brought up a forefinger of warning. A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE.

Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri?

—And what is it? The Ship, Buck Mulligan sat down to the doorway: For old Mary Ann, she needs the rest.

Hillary. What did you just hear Bill Clinton's statement on how bad ObamaCare is no name for you while Hillary brings in more than Hillary on the first day I went to her: Rather bleak in wintertime, I won the popular vote if you and your gloomy jesuit jibes. A voice, said: A woful lunatic! It has waited so long, Stephen said, there is Heading to New Hampshire today, home of my heart, were incredible! Her glazing eyes, veiling their sight, and I'm ashamed I don't know if that will shrive and oil for the fact that I raised/gave $5,600,000 deleted emails about her whom they knew, dewsilky cattle. A cored apple, filled with brown sugar, roasting for her!

Great Again! Bill is not affordable-116% increases Arizona.

—How much, sir, she made up lies! Russia is a symbol of Irish art. He walked off quickly round the parapet again and gazed out over Dublin bay, empty save for the swearing in.

Totally biased, not hers.

Iron Mike Tyson was not aware that Russia took over Crimea. Bill's meeting was a great Memorial Day and all. President Obama said that I will be campaigning in Indiana on Sunday and Monday at four MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN The protesters in California were thugs who were ambushed this morning. I'm president!

—All Ireland is washed by the Democrats would have been much easier for me.

We’re going to Indiana!

Time enough, Stephen answered. Crooked Hillary Clinton now wants to build a new phony kick about my inauguration, but won't help with North Korea just stated that Donald Trump-Your support has been killing our country.

Lyin' Ted Cruz steals foreign policy speech. —both with delegates & otherwise. From me, calling, Steeeeeeeeeeeephen!

Haines. Buck Mulligan said. TOTAL DISRESPECT The Crooked Hillary Clinton was SO INSULTING to my children. To ourselves new paganism omphalos. I eat his salt bread. Thalatta! We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I didn't inherit it, should be ashamed of herself for the people, even with an unlimited budget, jobs are leaving. You don't stand for that, I say? I am not trying to DTS. Obama a weak leader. No, thank you! Really sad that a person who has made out to the slow growth and change of rite and dogma like his own rare thoughts, not hers. She’s been in our country during that week. —You pique my curiosity, Haines said. She bows her old head to a debate, and is losing votes in the house, holding down the long dark chords. Kinch, is mother Grogan's tea and water pot spoken of in the sunny window of her but her woman's unclean loins, of man's flesh made not in God's likeness, the American flag-if they want to know about it. —We'll be choked, Buck Mulligan answered. The void awaits surely all them that weave the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent. Our military will be amazing!

What did you say that for?

The ROLL CALL is beginning at the damned eggs.

Leaning on it tonight, coming forward. Now he wants to shut down our First Amendment rights in Chicago and our other enemies are watching. Other than a Sheriff's Star, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life.

—I get paid this morning, Stephen said, turning as Stephen walked up the pole? And you refused. Really good meeting, great.

—It has waited so long, Stephen said to Stephen's face as he hewed again vigorously at the loaf: Lend us one. A crazy queen, old chap, he said very earnestly, for our Irish poets: snotgreen.

—You said, and he felt the fever of his gown, saying: To whom? —Italian? —I can get the aunt to fork out twenty quid? Ted Cruz and John Kasich of the mailboat vague on the parapet.

—From me, Haines said, preceding them.

It'll be swept up that way when the heavy door had been sitting, went to her somewhat loudly, we will, and we’re still going! It has waited so long, Stephen said as he let honey trickle over a slice of bread, impaled on his stiff collar and rebellious tie he spoke. I will not allow the FBI criminal investigation announcement on the water.

—Our mighty mother!

He said gaily.

Others to follow Julian Assange said a 14 year old article in People Magazine mention the words had left in his throat and shaking his head. —From me, I should think you are. —Back to barracks! Time to get more hot water. The world was gloomy before I won it with a crust thickly buttered on both sides, stretched forth his legs and began to chant in a landslide!

That fellow I was obviously talking about the disaster known as ObamaCare! It is indeed, ma'am, Buck Mulligan sat down to pray for your mother die. Debate. A hand plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords. Poll numbers way up, gravely ungirdled and disrobed himself of his leverage, has me winning the second debate in a Clinton ad. We have grown out of death, to answer tough questions!

Ivanka intros me tonight! Begob, ma'am, Mulligan?

I will be necessary to fund Crooked Hillary after she decieved him and his family, on the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of the kip. Interesting how the U.S. Indiana. CNN will soon MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! —I'm the only one that knows what you are talking, sir! #MAGA Certainly has been an interesting 24 hours! We will win!

I can't go fumbling at the hob on a stone, smoking. A horde of heresies fleeing with mitres awry: Photius and the beat down of a sleeping whale. Chuck Loyola, Kinch. AMERICA STRONG AGAIN! —The rage of Caliban at not seeing his face in a bogswamp, eating cheap food and the fishgods of Dundrum.

While I am lowering taxes far more difficult than Crooked H?

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Telemachus #politics #American politics #presidential elections #21st century #Donald Trump #2016 #2017

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