#but alas the reviews must be fair

[ram-blings-of-a-madman]

REVIEW 001: LITTLE NIGHTMARES

***

OVERALL: 9/10

Little nightmares has been one of my favourite games for a long time, since before I had even played it myself. The game is set out as a side-scrolling horror platformer, with constantly changing and moving scenes - even the screen itself rocks faintly from side to side, like the movement of a boat, often leaving the corners of the rooms just outside of your field of vision and creating a queasy, uneasy feeling that plays into and emphasises the overall unsettling atmosphere of the game.

The game itself is set in what looks to be a boat, named the Maw - yet as you explore this setting throughout the game and begin to uncover it's secrets in and out, it becomes less clear as to what the "Maw" actually is. An asylum? A prison? A restaurant? Each of the possibilities are strange, especially when the clues of the game put together tie in to all of those and more - but I think that's intentional. Little nightmares skillfully creates a low-lying sense of unease, even outside of the chase-scenes and the grotesque looks of the monsters you encounter. It leaves you feeling - well, uneasy, without pushing the horror element to far into the zone of cheap-feeling jumpscares and monsters that feel more irritating than scary.

However, I do think that the game has a tendency to rely too much on trial and error for some puzzles and chase scenes - which isn't inherently a bad thing. In fact, during my playthrough I began to enjoy going back and forth and figuring things out slowly, bit by bit - but some people would enjoy a quicker, easier route, or at least one that doesn't require them to die three times before they figure out how to beat the scene they were on.

***

GRAPHICS: 9.5/10

The overall look of this game was INCREDIBLE - it managed to combine the usual, murky and dark feel of horror with bright colours in almost unsettling places - it didn't need to be monotone to be creepy. And on top of that, it didn't feel cheap or tacky even with the "lower quality" graphics of the console it had been made for.

The setting itself was designed incredibly well, combining the protagonist's small size with the daunting hugeness of The Maw, and while there were many, MANY different rooms and scenes and settings throughout the game, none of it ever felt repetitive. The whole game was just incredible, and looked incredible, and even the monsters felt terrifyingly appealing, in a very, very spooky way.

***

CHARACTERS: 9/10

The characters of Little Nightmares, namely the monsters themselves, are incredibly well-crafted, grotesque yet human enough to create that familiar sense of unease. The game has no problem with showing these monsters to you - to the point where you become less worried about seeing them, and more worried about them seeing you. On top of that, the chase scenes and puzzles don't feel repetitive for each of the different monsters, and combined with the hard-to-navigate world of The Maw, end with you feeling genuine fear during your escapes.

Each of the characters in Little Nightmares are unique, from Six, the main protagonist dressed in her signature yellow raincoat, to the residents of The Maw themselves, a strangely unique cast of fleshy creatures, each made with their different quirks, purposes and appearances, without ever feeling tacky or repetitive. These characters truly hel to emphasise the uneasy atmosphere of Little Nightmares - the protagonist is strangely small compared to the other characters, which not only creates an incredibly strange and unsettling atmosphere but also allows for some interesting puzzles involving climbing, hiding, and fleeing from their clutches.

The gnomes were also incredible. Search up a picture of the gnomes if you haven't seen them and you'll see what I mean. Little guys.

***

STORY: 8/10

The story of Little Nightmares is unsettlingly terrifying, and incredibly well-balanced, managing to be immersive, creepy, and endlessly interesting throughout the game You, as the player, follow the protagonist of a young child, Six, on their journey through this strange setting and learn the clues of where, why, and how this world has come to be. The story is fairly linear and easy to follow, but as it Little Nightmares is a game with no dialogue, or even written words, it can at times become confusing to try and follow or figure out the full story of this game.

Overall, though, the story is incredibly interesting to figure out, and it can be great fun to theorise about the nature of Six's - and the other characters' - backstory.

***

FINAL THOUGHTS:

I absolutely LOVED every second of my Little Nightmares playthrough!! It was interesting, unsettling, and I grew incredibly attached to the protagonist and the monsters alike. I have even gone back and replayed the game multiple times since my first playthrough!! Little Nightmares is an incredibly well-made game, and I would recommend to ANYONE, horror-enjoyers or otherwise, that they consider taking the time to play this amazing game.

- Ket!! :D

[endlich-allein]

You seem to have an eclectic knowledge of all things Till, so I pose to you a question: has Till spoken or suggested any influences upon his performance style specifically?

I much admire his performance skills and I often wonder at his process for there has to be one given how consistent he is. Unfortunately, most interviews I read focus on him as provocateur only, and if I'm lucky, as a writer, but I'm curious about him as an actor!

If you've got any off-hand knowledge, interviews or even just some plain old assumptions, I'd be interested to hear them!

Thank you!

Hi ! Alas no Till has never talked about his acting. However, I would very much like to hear him talk about it, it must be very interesting to know his way of working on his character.

He's never mentioned a single artist as an example, or even talked about any kind of influence. I don't think he's inspired by anyone. On stage, he plays a character he's built up over time, and the bigger the scenes, the more grotesque and grandiloquent that character becomes. He reminds me a little of a puppet whose strings are manipulated by an invisible hand. Last year, after the Los Angeles concert, a very fine review compared Till's character to an amalgam of several influences : "The genius charisma of Till Lindemann is in a class all his own, infusing the bleak darkness of German cinema with the baroque drama of Bertolt Brecht, the slapstick of Buster Keaton, the android likeness of Kraftwerk and finally the subtle yet vulgar humor that is original to Rammstein." (jankysmooth.com). I think that's very fair. But he didn't create his character from nothing, he worked for it, he had to think about it, work on his gestures, his voice, his mimics, his outfits and his accessories. Some gestures must have taken him years, while others took only thirty seconds. Let's not forget that for Till, a Rammstein concert is like an opera : everyone has their role to play, and their precise place on stage. Till is largely responsible for Rammstein's scenography : he can visualize the slightest detail, the slightest pyros, the slightest feeling in the audience, and adapts his character accordingly : sometimes sad, sometimes awkward, sometimes disturbing, sometimes funny, sometimes provocative. In the end, he gives us his own version of a ringmaster, both conductor and actor.

[nostalgia-tblr]

I finished watching that Avengers film (Avengers Assemble, as it may or may not still be titled in this region)!

First up, I must warn anyone new to the MCU via the same route as myself that THERE IS NOT A SINGLE ALLIGATOR IN THIS MOVIE. Furthermore, Loki is played by A MAN for the entire ten hours that this film runs. Though actually this isn't as disappointing as it sounds, he's probably the most entertaining character in it and if nothing else the endless fucking fight scenes usually pause for a moment or two while one of the heroes confronts him verbally. (And then the fight starts again, but it was a nice respite anyway.)

I don't know how I feel about this film because there's certainly the basis of an entertaining action-film-with-jokes in here but that film is, alas, about an hour shorter than the actual movie. I generally have a low tolerance for fight scenes and this film could be not unfairly described as one interminable fight/action scene (with occasional Loki Interludes). I hadn't even seen that much of this film via tumblr gifs already, which makes me think it's not that beloved? Many scenes were just too long, like when the Avengers were all bitching at each other (I get it already, they're fighting!) and the bit where Thor and Iron Man and then Captain Steve level a forest together went on long past the point where I was thinking "if Loki HASN'T just fucked off while they were fighting then I'm gonna assume getting captured is his actual plan" (it was!). Because srsly he must have sat there patiently waiting for them to finish, perhaps dreaming of a better life in which he was an alligator.

Anyway, they were on a flying aircraft-carrier (NOT the Valiant from Dr Who just exactly like it), and then it crashed except no it didn't, and then we were in New York and they were going to nuke the city except no they didn't. To be honest I'm not sure what the plot actually was beyond "everyone wants the MacGuffin Tesseract for some reason." I don't know why we were in Germany other than so that one German guy could spot Obvious Fascist Rantings in a movie about *checks notes* the United States assembling a force of almost unkillable fighters who act on their own authority and can do as they like because we know they're good people who will always act in the interests of America the world. (In fairness I think this alarming set-up is the plot of a later - or possibly earlier? - Captain America film that I know I've seen but remember nothing from.)

Speaking of, did they cut a bunch of stuff out about Steve America having a crisis about America and the fucked up shit it's got up to? He seemed to be having a sad about that but then he didn't any more, though I admit I could have missed him having an important epiphany of some sort during the endless, endless, endless violence. SO MUCH VIOLENCE. And I am genuinely not sure who caused more damage in the final fight hour sequence between the Bad Aliens and the Avengers. I suppose that's why they keep mentioning that battle in every following Marvel work?

AND OH YEAH PHIL DIED. Phil, who was besties with all the Avengers, even the ones he met five minutes before he died. Everyone was VERY broken up about Phil dying, and he (and some carefully-bloodied trading cards) was the spark that ignited the Avengers by dying. See, Loki's mistake was killing Phil! Killing all those other people was fine though. They didn't even have names, let alone trading cards (bloody or otherwise)!

Have I mentioned that this was quite a long film? I am trying to repeat myself a lot in this 'review' so as to evoke a feeling in the reader akin to the experience of watching people hit each other and things blow up over and over and over again. Because I am an artiste, an auteur, a very tired audience. But Steve was quite good, whether or not he had an arc, and Thor's always entertaining. Tony Stark I strongly dislike for a number of reasons. The Hulk is at least green (and Bruce's angst was weirdly relatable given that his problem is turning green on occasion). Arrows Hawkeye and the Black Widow are (I think) the Canonical M/F Pairing, having bonded together in the unspecified backstory and then further brought together by being the Avengers with the least exciting powers. (Projectile weaponry? Groundbreaking!) And somehow her outfit has a tit-window despite not having a tit-window. But don't worry, she also got called a cunt so this is THE MOST feminist film you can possibly imagine! No wonder it took everyone so long to see through Joss Whedon's bullshit!

Then it ended. At last. I did actually have a break in the New York hour of the fight scene because all the camera movements and close-up violence were making me dizzy. That wasn't fun. But I'd watch and enjoy an hour-long edit of this film, probably. The sad thing is that the interesting parts, where the camera more or less stays still for an entire shot, are likely the bits that were most cut down by the studio to allow the fight scenes room to breathe.

Also, in finishing, I would like to draw attention to this dude at the Posh People Gathering in Germany, whose collar and tie combo is APPALLING and DREADFUL and I think Loki should have murdered him for that alone.

[nic-mharta]

Just a little more Potential for 2024

Every so often the latest version of this comes around on my dash, and gives me a great reminder to check in on myself and my habits. It started with @shrinkingblonde's “Full Potential Challenge”: a list of self-care checkpoints for every day, broken down by morning, afternoon and evening. Alas, working on that many habits at once woke my “Monster From The Id”’, who immediately panicked. The Monster thinks that, given that my current bad self-care habits correlate with being currently alive, the best chance of staying alive is to change nothing. The Monster isn’t very bright, but it’s powerful.

So I made a minimal list, and took as long as it took to change (three years!), and I made some nice new habits! A year later I rebooted with seven habits to maintain and three new habits to work on. It's now a year and a half after that. Things are changing: I've been diagnosed with ADHD and have medication for that. I've been laid off (again) and am about to start receiving Old Age Security so I guess that counts as "retired". The problematic pastor at our church has been resigned (no, not *that* type of "problematic", but still a problem) so there's more demands from that corner of life.

Changes mean some of the habits I've been working on aren't relevant any more.

EVERY MORNING

Stretch. First thing. Really give your body enough time to wake up. Touch your toes. Roll out your shoulders. Do not hit snooze! (Doing okay!)

Brush your teeth (Doing great!) and floss (well, better than not at all and my dental hygienist is happy)

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!! (Doing better but still needs focus)

Cleanse and moisturize your skin and do at least minimal makeup (Doing great -- and I like the effect)

Minimal Morning Prayer: Urnuigh an Tighearna, Guidhe airson Sith, Guidhe airson Grais (I've struggled with my prayer life for decades. Still struggling. The minimal approach worked with skin care and makeup; maybe it will work here)

EVERY AFTERNOON

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!! (Such a hard habit!)

At least once around the virtual track on the elliptical, one pushup, and 20 situps. (I will not apologize for how wimpy that is. Injuries, age, and undiagnosed but chronic post-exertion malaise mean one must be gentle with oneself. Maybe I can do 21 situps the next time this post comes around.)

EVERY EVENING

mentally review what needs to be done tomorrow, and identify (or find a way to insert) something fun. (doing okay-ish)

Brush, floss, cleanse, moisturize (doing good!)

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!! (See above!)

Crawl into bed at least 7 hours before the alarm is set for.

Eat and drink lightly and stop well before bedtime (coming along).

WEEKENDS are just like weekdays, now that I'm retired.

"Be friendly to friends and strangers. A smile goes a long way" is off the list because it has truly become a habit: I don't even need to think about it. Yay!

Ninety days from today is nothing particularly special, but 89 days from today our local agricultural fair starts (which is a big deal around these parts) so that's the target date for this iteration.

[unitedbydevils]

Match Review: Sheffield United 1-2 Manchester United

A scrappy game in the aftermath of the tragic news that Sir Bobby Charlton had passed away aged 86 was not what fans would have wanted, but thankfully the Red Devils could honour the great man's memory with a crucial win.

Bramhall Lane played host to a tale of two halves. In the first, Manchester United were dire; devoid of composure, creativity, and most importantly control. We didn't retain possession or dictate the game. It was so bad that the official United highlights show McTominay's goal - a tidy takedown and finish, in all fairness - as the first of the match highlights. It came in the 28th minute. It's wild that there was nothing of note that United did in 27 minutes of gameplay.

In classic United fashion, no sooner had we taken the lead than we gave it away; a handball from McTominay gave Sheffield a penalty and Oli McBurnie banged home a good finish. Special mention to Andre Onana who got very close to saving it, but Harry Kane would have been proud of McBurnie's set piece. A top drawer penalty.

There were two big disappointments within United's ranks. Bruno Fernandes was more wasteful than is within his remit as the creative attacking midfielder. There's gambling on a chance, and then there's sloppy passing around the midfield that completely collapses our possession play.

The other was Scott McTominay. He's scored 3 in 2 for United, and I believe he is our top league scorer this season - only behind Casemiro for all competitions. He excels in attacking opportunities and is something of a wildcard, but his weakness is possession football - in the same way Harry Maguire struggles with a high defensive line. McTominay isn't a metronome like Amrabat, or a line-breaker like Eriksen. He shies away from the ball. Players like Hannibal and Mainoo will supplant him from the squad in due course, but in the meantime Erik Ten Hag and his coaching team have a challenge on their hands to ensure that they don't risk United's fluidity by rewarding players for fluke moments - such as McTominay's winners. I do like the guy, and I'm happy to have him in as a squad player, but I know he wants more. I just hope he has a good campaign for United, to secure himself a favourable move away next summer.

The second half wasn't glorious football, but it was what the first half should have been - before a team talk at HT sharpens it up.

United were more ambitious. They retained the ball better thanks to fewer weird mistakes, and they were more aggressive going forward. Rashford was unlucky to not score, dragging a great chance wide of the far post. Amrabat hit the crossbar too, denying him a first United goal. The standout was a moment of magic that echoed the likes of Charlton and Beckham, with Diogo Dalot whipping home a top corner curling shot from 25 yards to uproar from the away end.

Truthfully it should have been more too. Martial and Garnacho mistimed a counter attack to flag offside, and Bruno and Martial misunderstood movements and also tripped the offside trap. If these moments can be erased, and a bit of luck guides the Amrabat goal in, suddenly we're looking at a 5-1 slapdown of Sheffield United.

That brings us to the point at hand though: we've not clicked, not yet. These results are very achievable based on the talents available to Ten Hag, but for some reason players haven't quite found their groove. Perhaps it's the injuries, perhaps it was the pre-season workload.

Thankfully players are returning. Harry Maguire has had three good games on the bounce. Garnacho's finding form. Amrabat unsurprisingly looks far better in CM than deputising at LB. With any of our LBs back I think United will be far more reliable, but there are so many 'what ifs'. What if Mainoo's pre-season form flattered to deceive, ala Andreas Pereira? What if Mason Mount doesn't fit in to the system? What if Onana doesn't regain his form?

Until United can build a run of form, every game's a "must win" or a "big test". 2 defeats from 2 in the Champions League group stage means Tuesday vs Copenhagen is though. We must win or we're not even looking at the Europa League, we're just dusted, and that's embarrassing to another level. Fortunately it's a very achievable victory. I just hope Mason Mount starts over McTominay to give us some more vibrancy and spark in our passing and vision.

[callipraxia]

Books Read, May 2023

I've thought of starting a book blog before, but alas - I never have enough to say when I don't have someone to bounce off of, or at least can't figure out how to say it. Plus, I mostly read nonfiction, so...probably not the most thrilling reviews. In lieu of that...here's what I read in May.

Courting Scandal: The Rise and Fall of Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford - James Taffe

Jane Boleyn: The True Story of the Infamous Lady Rochford - Julia Fox

Young and Damned and Fair: The Life of Catherine Howard, Fifth Wife of King Henry VIII - Gareth Russell

Inside the Tudor Court: Henry VIII and His Six Wives Through the Writings of the Spanish Ambassador Eustace Chapuys - Lauren Mackay

Wolsey: The Life of King Henry VIII's Cardinal - John Matusiak

Cardinal Wolsey - Mandell Creighton

Remembering Wolsey: A History of Commemorations and Representations - J. Patrick Hornbeck II.

The Life and Death of Thomas Wolsey Cardinal: Once Archbishop of York and Lord Chancellor of England - Sir William Cavendish

Obviously, I got 'on a tangent,' as I do sometimes. I've gathered this may have something to do with the ADHD, though not from particularly official sources, so don't quote me on that. In this case, it was partially a return to old tangents; while I'd not read the last three books on this list before, my reading journal indicates I previously went on a bit of a tangent on the subject of Cardinal Wolsey in February and March of 2021. I was also immensely pleased, in my Kindle recommendations earlier this month, to find a book on Chapuys; he was always one of those background figures in the historical fictions I read as a kid that I wished I knew more about. Gotta read his letters myself sometime, since it seems, from the Google, that they can be viewed online in English translation.

I'll give Lauren Mackay this: she's much more honest than a lot of authors are when she reached places where the information simply no longer exists, or at least hasn't been recovered yet. There was enough 'prose' to keep it interesting, but not excessive attempts to state things about the ambassador that she couldn't back up with evidence. This, I felt, was in sharp contrast to Julia Fox; I loved the descriptions of the court, the attempts to tell a story, and these things definitely have a place in history-writing, but here they were fairly blatantly...fluffy, I suppose. Now, I'm hardly one to complain of fluff, rather fond of soft things myself, but it was glaringly obvious, when she said Lady Rochford must have been thinking or feeling something, that she was essentially filling in the blanks with a story of her own devising. Sometimes the 'costume' of historicity the text wore was something it looked 'comfortable' in and sometimes it was quite obviously a poorly-researched French hood shoved awkwardly onto the head of an actress with zero knowledge of sixteenth century fashion and how to wear it, but there were always leaps from one point to another. In contrast to that, I felt that Gareth Russell balanced his reader-drawing prose fluff with his historical analysis much more adeptly when considering Catherine Howard; I've read his book more than once over the past couple of years and expect I'll read it again in years to come. I came away with no impression of James Taffe's work, alas, except that he clearly wrote his book as an exasperated rebuttal to Julia Fox; I was, unfortunately, very sleep-deprived when I read that, so I'll have to read it again sometime. My lack of sleep, however, is not why I read the rebuttal first and the book it was responding to second...even though I'd had Fox's book in my physical TBR shelves for several years and only stumbled across Taffe's the day I bought it. I'm told I've always had a tendency to do things in the wrong order and somehow make it work anyway, so why mess with a good system at this point?

As for one book being a rebuttal to another - here we come to one of my favorite things about reading history, which is to say, how often historians blatantly attack or support each other in their writing. In the last couple of chapters of Remembering Wolsey, I was irrationally delighted to see the author offer opinions on every book I read during my 2021 tangent as well as one of the ones I read this time around. It's amusing (to me) to sort of...get to know the different personalities: "hm, yes, I can see why someone would say that about Ives," or "yeah, I never did get Starkey's position on that, all things considered," or "ha, that was almost the exact same thing I said two years ago about Ridley!" It's...oddly cozy, I suppose.

Hornbeck was especially interesting as he wasn't writing about what happened - he was writing about the trends in how people have remembered what happened over the past few centuries. There were interesting thoughts on historical fiction throughout, especially near the end; that one may warrant a full independent review, if I can muster the energy to write it out. For now, however - there's all the reading I did in May.

[faroreswinds]

Azure Moon - Prologue to Chapter 4

Alright, here we go! I’m taking a small break from writing my GW review to play some of this route.

Also, bear in mind... I’m about to go on a very long trip, and I will not have as much time to play during that time. 

So, updates will be... slower. Sorry about that. 

Story

They are treating us to a feast! They all want to get to know him over a meal! Besides Felix, he’s all “Let’s fight”.

And they are offering to show him around too. Urg, they are so nice. 

This is honestly the best “welcome to our house” of the lot

Sylvain likes it if you play it smart and not rush into the fortress

Felix literally did a “I’m not trapped in here with them, they are trapped in here with me” comment, amazing

OMG Dedue is so tall

Jeritza has been a teacher since last year (again, not the teacher theory!)

Dimitri not laughing crazily at Alois’s bad jokes is a missed opportunity. 

Wait, they were able to find other people who were kidnapped by Tomas and get testimonies? Did I miss that in my other playthroughs?

Aw, “we will be right behind you!” I think they are the only group who has said they join with him after him.

I’m telling you, whoever voiced that Knight of Seiros in the Solon scene... has such a nice voice. I hope that knight lived through the war. 

Alright, here we go, let’s go kill Dimitri’s awful uncle. 

Aw, Dimitri is just checking in. Pretty sure Claude came to investigate, but Dimitri is just “you ok there?” 

He’s so precious.

“Power is neutral” Yessir it is. 

Rufus wants to kill Felix’s entire line because they support Dimitri. Dimitri didn’t really say this but... imagine, like “Who dares threatens my boyfriend’s bloodline?!”

Finally, Catherine on our side and not a bloody enemy. 

Oh no, wait, it’s Gilbert they are sending. Still!

Annette doesn’t join us due to politics, unfortunately. I get it though. But Ashe is willing to go regardless of that. 

Wtf, they even read his letters while Dimitri was under “house arrest”? That assholes

The old letter about a merchant complaining they can’t trade in duscur anymore is just..... here, in the camp. lol

One NPC is like “I can’t tell what Dimitri is thinking!” and all scared about it. Lol

Some knights are trapped in the capital despite being loyal to Dimitri

Rufus is a bitch, Rufus is a bitch ~ ♫

Rufus, if you think he’s a beast, it’s cause of YOU. 

Dimitri called his uncle “my lord”. He’s too gracious here

Felix, calm down, he’s about to kill his uncle

Dimitri, you aren’t breaking the peace. Rufus did, the slimy bastard

I’m not going to lie, but the execution scene is very, very clever. The way you see from Rufus’ point of view as the sword falls, so you know his head was divorced from his body without having to actually see it

Poor Dimitri tho, having to kill his own uncle. You can see that it bothers him. It seems so cruel to make him do it, but do it he must. 

Hello, Margrave. Alas, I cannot accept you into my Dilf harem. 

Man, Rodrigue having to pass on the torch because of Duscur when he didn’t do anything.... He is too good for this world. 

“Also, Gustave, you stay. No, I said so.”

Since there is so much corruption ran through the knights, Dimitri has made a commoner army.

So, Edelgard hires Shez to lead as a commander of an army of mercenaries. Claude hires Shez 2 years later to be a commander just... in general. And Dimitri is like “I want you to lead them, my new army of commoners.”

Felix being nice and bowing is..... SO CUTE

Yup, can’t reject the Church here. It’s literally stuck between a hard place and a rock. 

Like, a real political talk here, nice to see instead of “CHURCH BAD”

And I like seeing Dimitri finally LEAD

Shez talking with someone else BESIDES a main cast member?! Interesting

“There’s not a ruler in the world without their fair share of critics, right?” SB and GW would have me fooled.

There is an NPC that married into House Gautier. But even though it wsa arranged by Dimitri (to lessen the power of the western lords), the guy and his wife actually did want to marry

It’s interesting. Both GW and AG have NPCs who know people in the Abyss. But in SB, it’s “just a report”.

It’s nice that they actually gave the Duscur NPCs a different skin tone

“You’ve got an eye fo- You’ve got an eye f- You’ve got an eye for quality, friend!”

“Rhea and Seteth punish anyone in the church who takes a bribe.” Huh, no shit?

It’s interesting, quite a few of the NPCs are on a seemingly personal basis with Shez

Felix has a living mother! Who knew? She survived the mother curse! (She and Felix’s uncle are watching the lands while he is away)

They barely have enough resources to take on the refugees (but are doing it anyway!)

Aw, Dimitri apologies for dragging you into this mess. 

Ah, so we get Hapi and Petra in chapter 4

It’s nice to rescue Cyril and not kill him this time

Same with Catherine and Rhea

Not really sure WHY Hapi is here but ok

And it’s so nice to see Rhea care about Cyrl. She cared about him in the other routes too but still

FINALLY I can fight Hubert, lol

Dimitri is already torturing himself. 

Felix, fuck off, stop being a jerk. 

I’m not really sure what you were trying to reason, Felix. You came in and berated him first. 

Urg... Claude. :/ 

“I don’t know if I can trust Dimitri” fuck off

At least the Alliance sounds more together here than they did in SB

And also, fuck off Lonato 

I wish we could meet Duke Ifan. She sounds cool.

Dimitri is so much taller than Shez, kek

Hm, why wasn’t Flayn someone we had to rescue in that chapter I wonder?

Gatekeeper is playable, let’s goooooo

Supports

Shez and Dimitri C - Dimitri feels guilty for the loss of a village while they gathered up the last of Klieman’s forces. He went to bury the dead alone He’s such a bleeding heart. :( 

Shez and Felix C - “I can tell you like Dimitri and the others” “Urk! B-baka! Listen, Dimitri rushes in so I have to cover him since he doesn’t care about his safety! And Ingrid doesn’t see the archers always so I have to take care of them first. And the idiot likes to show off so I have to be closer to him. It’s just NATURAL, not because I LIKE them, GAWD”

Shez and Sylvain C - This is the first time we actually talk about the magic sword Shez has. Well... no, I guess it’s not. Linhardt talks about how the sword seems... cold, inhuman. But this is another support that actually talks about it. Sylvain is trying to think about weapons that don’t rely on a bloodline for the security of the future. 

Shez and Ingrid C - This one is complicated. It’s basically the bloodlines and shit. How it’s all mixed up and who gets what Crest can sometimes be a luck of the draw. But Crests are valued for the use of the Heroes’ Relics, not because it’s a fancy crest thing. It’s almost like this shit isn’t just as simple as “Crest from one family, be heir!” And having a Crest doesn’t even mean you will be heir, but it’s up to the family usually. Heck, she’s going to inherit the title because her PEOPLE want her to take charge. 

Ingrid and Rodrigue C - Another interesting support about tactics. That’s it though. Her brother had suggested the strategy once. I wish we could meet the rest of her family, they sound nice. 

Shez and Annette C - Cute support, Shez sang Annette’s song and she was a bit upset since it wasn’t done yet. Whoopsie. 

Shez and Rodrigue C - “It’s fucking cold here” “Yup, but pretty. Damn the snow though” C support achieved. Well, we get more Kingdom culture. Pegasi are a particularly sight unique sight in the Kingdom since snow prevents the use of horses in the winter. And Felix and Dimitri, as lads, followed a pegasus into the mountains and were huddled together in the cold. Dumb, poor babies. Still, the Kingdom gets more culture stuff in general than the other two nations, honestly. 

Mercedes and Dimitri C - This support really should be locked until we actually rescue Rhea. Still.... Dimitri is giving people a home who would otherwise be homeless due to the war. Jesus, after the other two routes, it finally feels like this is a good guy route. 

And Dimitri, the Empire was going to invade regardless what what you did, really. 

Books

Exquisite Old Letter

A merchant had business in Fhirdiad, but it was canceled. 

The king had gone to meet with leaders of Duscur but were killed by attackers from Duscur on their way. All were killed, except for the young prince.

Soldiers were sent to raze Duscur. Fhirdiad was in chaos without a king. Duscur is being punished for a few extremists

Can no longer trade with Duscur. A shame, because there is gold to be mined near Gwenhwyvar and their blacksmiths are exceptional. 

Kingdom Nobles (1179 Edition)

Not for students to read

House Blaiddyd

One of the ancestors of the Ten Elites. 

Ruled over the Kingdom for over 400 years since Loog, the King of Lions, claimed victory in the War of the Eagle and the Lion in 751. 

This secured the Kingdom’s independence from the Empire, and Loog was crowned inaugural king by the Church of Seiros. 

The House resides in Fhirdiad, the Kingdom Capital, claiming all of the surrounding territory as its domain and the many of the fiefdoms in the north of Foldan as its vassals. 

Grand Duke Rufus of Itha started to rule the Kingdom after the passing of King Lambert in 1176, since the young prince could not rule yet. Strife and disorder plagued the land.

House Fraldarius

House of Dukes, claims to be ancestors of the Ten Elites.

One of the most ancient houses on record, even amongst Kingdom nobility.

Said that Kyphon, the sword friend of Loog, was also related to the Hero Fraldarius. 

House Gautier

House of margraves, claims to be ancestors of the Ten Elites. 

Territory lies in the northernmost reaches of the Kingdom. Has safeguarded the Kingdom against incursions by the people of Sreng for over 200 years. 

House Charon

House of counts, claims Charon as an ancestor

Tasked with negotiation between the resistance armies and the Church of Seiros during the War of the Eagle and Lion.

Continues tradition of a ceremonial competition within the Kingdom

House Galatea

When House Daphnel, a cornerstone of the Alliance, was divided over an inheritance feud, half of them defected to the Kingdom and established this house.

Was granted the title of count

Most territory is frigid wasteland, where a severe famine occurred in the early 1170s

House Rowe

Noble house that once held territory in the northern Empire. After Arianrhod was built, they defected to the Kingdom along with all their territory. 

For this contribution, they were awarded title of count

House Kleiman

House originally held no more than a lordship over a single castle in the west Kingdom, but was awarded a noble title of viscount for its great success in subjugation of Duscur in 1176. 

Duscur was granted to it as its feudal estate 

[libidomechanica]

Have gold: his coming

A sonnet sequence

               1

Invective it the dark to the deer from his slow returned away. Of helpless butterflies form but dissension proved, with many maiden-like a bed of men breathless, care not for us, and stretch the State. Thy tempers clear wind will kame these ladies of Thy mark is run. Have gold: his coming. Whom each feed on with floated in the ocean’s swelling dried chimney-wall were Jebusite dispraised yet from her amazed, answered courageously fast as happen to hint at here Juanna, too—the chiefest among their sad and floor of the Tree! Where thy father. And we’ll welcome a sweet Albany.

               2

No song, Cyril, vext garden-gate reviewed that are sleep. Now is turn’d the least thou loves, that he music with a faith. And thy perfect in the puppy’s a thin a clay strangeness, and afterwards the should blaze in the floors never though nothing mythological it was she guest: your chambermaid. For I wish they know what, alas! This all things which the yield, where them to her hips. As may Give and fortunately to use, against all the sea, when we comb’d even thereof was night have reachery, some diviner Lust, his army’s loss of any errors hath doth thine—but your doubts and mark inn-yard.

               3

And even so she plumb beat or beaten gold. And the affairs, let me go; my days. Brought; get up early objects to pry earnestly I pitied. Thee, severed fair Orithea, whom spoke of Hell short as one therefore either is as the creatures joy conceal’d her languish’d by the day, ye wadna been figs, and rak’d, foul, grim, against the universal Call, to the bees seen, that absence, once more tempest after me? I knocketh, saying conceive; but scorn the moon, that of the poppy hillside, twin Kernels in Heavens Anointing looks a frown’d run much increases up his tears of fond foolerie.

               4

Yours must hallucination, as well, whose Modern Amazon and rashly judge his usual constantinople lookers one sore tender of cologne. This necessary needs not very sun was gone, love’s mildly as a drinks it up: mine eyes of abrupt thunder-rate and whay, and now he is broken heat, the highwayman commend; some rest. In sheets whereof of the names assuage; plants, which I the skull, Mr. Once likeness so unsullied, Between thy soft breaks forth wind; and my divine constant ferns, and bites to myself a Muse-brows. Are as a dove trembling knee and the grounded: this knife.

               5

’ And what I do vow and on their prepare the day of dirty days in pithy phrase against thy foreheads or heart-honored you present. Then wonder’d at its farther angry ladies,—who by the edge of a nuptial company been a sea of milk are under wrong; all amaz’d at length upon thee in sweets the world with the rich in my left behind some of our punish’d nation to peep, to give gold bought to publics, revolving, instead of Proserpine! The gross the wind a strange, for whose Motions, most I glory told me by moonlight; our twisted Counsels fit; or to love frae my delight?

               6

Through my hand, strange, bold eye was thy soft cheered in his be takes an isle, who, whereon with Death doth scratch’d, or mermaid was never grown meek beckon’d none look from his blonde&when he waiting four. To move, but oh, ye great good, a wife O Pilate is here, so divine and sad. I can teaching and neighs unto whom she had better the Pillar, and all tent my bosom dropping of shepeheardes out of honour blood, stirring on the known; ’ a pleasant fruit was; and company of two women whores? As whom very size and tongue with his side, and molten on the door, were going to yon strops of cedar.

               7

Place of the dead, and galloped a little streamlets fall, to whom thence a feeling, on the chief the Laws are liked the cuckoo-song, as their enemy retires with hairy bristling down to the swelling shepherd songs wakened hill-side. If thou know his house- clock struck not to let us know no subtile Serpents false, aught, and never frightest echoes the every side. In safety shok; and I must confess’d I hurries saw him no great god Pan. That I should follow your substance he spurred and learn to lose the Ithaca, and clear with thieves; so doth boys begin. But the pained in these, a showers.

               8

And her now, for your mountains of grasse, the blood, survey’d three father’s hour of an animal and the Lochroyan, as gallantly as the sweet. Philly? Again it, was half- possession, manlike, but gold they hearts on her a Jonah’s gourd overscore continual haste, my dear, my spirit caught, and not how—as if she was this wounded old ditties seize the figures with rocks. Prest twelve abreast, unheard, and the differing draperies red. Paced aloud: finding as his she randome boy remain, shadow across the river-reach at warm, humid thee crop a weed the city’s estate. He made to fynd.

               9

His eyes I love with the chase if they drops than sick hearth-stones, you’ve already stands; who did many gazes; now gazeth shee thou wage mute: give me the eye did wonder, to wash through the mountains before me a new skin out of the footmen did wear, but, trowth, I care na by. And when my Father; coud Adam can not been, and—no! Until, from the eye loved more can instant on the garden inclose common shore; fair care, or some remorse which the works did clear and unjoin, be lost in your equals, free side lawn being dead, butterflies bout these are conqueror play had he blest, refusing the wrath!

               10

To her! So, by my recomment up by its proper sight and took no part, this this the midsummer’s hair is as brighter; and high. With red, whereon thought him give the beautiful was alway his minds consume these dish of weeds. This disguise: along when I appeared—just think, holds her form divine that not the same, Katinka: Spain’s reward—an actual faults is froward. But tract of her heart giu’n me that to you: beside. A while the Cause by the fishpools in uniform. And just needs with my life. Like a potato. When I should have gold rock thee quick gone as remember, do not moved there her hands.

               11

I sat down its current of true, the deceiving were clawing old, which embargoed from the fainting here he a brave many lambs beside, and the reed which it gurgling leave in fifteen will is but thy ways her dwell into her given in sleeping, half- way house for all; but blessed to hang: but Common- wealth, a poore pedlar he was he quickly gone? Brow and chief flower enjoy such end perfumèd garment, but noble Government, but Lenitives for Mahomet or bloud, above their dreamer among the zodiacs filling brooks’ and averse rest with sweet yearning twigs, might be: seemed as do thee?

               12

Thought him, and tempting low down, devotion, could be wasted, a daughters of this night. More sent for deeming sphere; lest the thing to my great arc his sense of common readers the little questing thus: you had no hum. And once vouchsafe to haste to creep, admiring Croud tails to be, stock or stone lay the best of shepheardes out, is but sound a thousand angel of this bloodless Boy, she crimson shame: and, amber than uncommon that has been statute of friends but someone’s own mouth, to take the foe after fault, while that Time or Fate uncertain to see what campaign; and feet wert to get; and laide.

               13

Back when the ocean, they’re welcoming, all this countenance, swift foot to shake the won Renown’s harsh kissing hedges. Rose the pearl lost in brief, by a downward casting down by yourself bring the stormy days, jovial and other give this modern preacherly heard, she known run through all motions that alp. Muttering, and knots, like Visionary gleams. Stripping in the night, but that hath her poor women had you mayst be the second is her voice shall create; or melt him lately to the breathere’s the breach several English rhymes to trampled o’er trembling sap, which the who dreams the trees or fills!

               14

I shall not a King! In one came with pretty bondage, they made my lips and his compact of its own heart, my dear, ’ she red more awkward she love-sick at her language of unfamiliarly do I perceive the fat, or price. I was down it: if a pearl, and leave me my husband so a worse o’er thanked fires, she has advice in circles holds and warm People have warm’d it, which in her life in my face I take painted snapdragon, sweet bed of her veil from my revenge us all leading has been a setled Throne; were breath, my door, and done to cold Cause by a Tombe did trembling linen banner.

               15

But certes may Sons before my shade. In Petrarch’s plague of all lovely leaves will make thy main, and space between love, is cold, of conceal’d to drill—or rather mine, I think what should show how far to themselves out of nation, and will bind his Frame and once the first secret laughters with their own dear, and that curl for that knocks at my Prison doors for you, dear her glasse he runs, and little, at rest: without her throat. That seemed as it rains green’d over-handles of abeyance added be of clover, a Fisherman men, huge dens and of scene I’ve had been so thy way, a human just two Turkish thee.

               16

Freshly alive no high as this? Stirring in the early spright, He plunged and day; but never knowledge was to knows, and would be their friendship, when stick breeds tempt th’ embrace me. Grew rather shade, in heavy heart, return, return rebuked to add a syllable untrue; for him first, and Hatred touch not, as a song, by concord han lightly pray, why shoulder bore to God who like Absalom, ambition, that art is neck is like Carmel, and now not hear his heaven punishes them, were dead. But not stuck in battle equal lightly to a warmer can be seen they common dirt, Nothing.

               17

The budded bearing cold. When softly in Foreigne. And when the act of ioyes. ’Twas ever again sae shy; for long fantastic and drop of listning Crowd: that inward grow. Than to change him down the road smoking wall where was unseen unto the gift of clear and stumbling, and all the little Lilia please let it on they might pavilions: issues for Justice pain as if all you countless, my Katie? Tis he, since, possession at his pious thrilled,—but. Through they would thus, O Princes of pure and furrows of marble vaulted; nor is to philosopher; confound him that flickers and on thee.

               18

Again. Some background, struggles to burden tooth’d light all be to- morrow, like jewels, exact use of the been—down the waves lie folded to our voice doth make Treason guide, shining breathless did uphold; his shadowy image passions has already strength the worldly brooked, the earthy Vapours rise. Who made better of the widow drown into it: i’ve said,—and the Splendor; in the mirror. To what you pleasant things such faitors in thy way of herself the warm, since I gave, ne’er let near they shot by that but of these grew immortal star. Yet, if you are lawful period interested wild words began, as well set think there we sated with loud and breathe? And yourselves a death rattle, and out of men. By whom he spurred lightly stirr’d of his tears in a new life with all thought I Mourn’d, and bring gentle force it is Adonis’ heart convey so still’d from the gates were of Justice and quell?

               19

Or was when we comes homely pedigree, must somehow, than other Errors that celestial Seed: in God tis under whose care. Sick-though hell at last thou dost not fear Juanna spoke imperial brides the green. Wherein her lids: against then why not love; not fit to kill. Thy though neither heartfelt close mellow and pearls upon our fingers in the right and less photorealis, at length of sheep. To the moon, the tree in his closed welcomes again ere once all shield, his through to plume, cool was absence gave: is honours true, and grasp, that I tell my bare shall cool moss extended I had high desire.

               20

Because we for so it served me; my grief into a fluttering upon a weak model wrought thee by moonlight; thus season once, the brim they stands possession-—swung a vase, may seek him finds at large; their shoes in tell your fair only one good as a Georgian and face; his Love of old, and, plashing the great the sea all with its through me it would draw but warmer ploughs the Destiny made foolishness of Royal Party e’r unite with berries. After thy sigh, there, a garments unchanging out his congealed so the Russian peoples he strain is over time when he doth sit, long-clothes and wrecks.

               21

’ Thus all. His Favour offerd, Strength I read; all love, except you to trace in a Catalina stand, either house, why then she, this island their Passions serve when a blessed the road that prize, and some say, for sometimes chang’d: then that ye stir about the enemy retire in the field tree, I went his tale while there were for the noble scheme as an army within. To recreate, for human comes risk thee in the mid forefinger’s pangs on the sky-lark shrilled, my round us back despair rise in flakes; behind what I were maids’ who might descried aloud bear: had God or De Tott: her fingers.

               22

Inquiry I could not lov’d, the world so far the tempering only call vesper, the winter nine dispatches to come wherein did weary even? Not Eve, where; so, nor show me the ranks and head, and complexion, her to the Prostrate; his Memory, there blue eyes’ shrewd tutors, when she stand see him daily labour turned aside. A deale of twilight the ground by the face I have twaine, if of job,—what thou! That which bars a garden-grown extremely wielding to those inmost genius for a young arms embrace. But idle the eager view. Surely spent, ’ Why, what did bind, but I be in an eare.

               23

Since I sought to lend hitherwards accustoms of my own did see him his time it seem’d rather give. And will believing not prouide for my heart, and apt the vine, scanted like the dead, and borrowed from heavenly ways made of time, o’er the langer lands; whose loosestrife, or at length deserts, abhorr’d; a thousand spher e d course is discover in tell her wits are gone and silence aside, not struck for meal was gone, do my too much more better? Were invented fields, and rolled with surprise in little falles it rose: there each others seem night to gain by such the bays, with great, and clodded at me.

               24

Dismay, they have slept the lost her love and truly not I came at ease me; Lesley, return, indeed and thy name should he had been a loftier growing their leave? From her, bent it subject and which words obay retire and no assistance, spread, which somewhat or war. Was busy, and the assault. Fold, his art with Reason, which is the stranger than mends above, or wits still, children were was give you the sun began to change: thy face of thy complain about its fulfil: just a trice, you—tell us what it groweth not mock her years. Mock me do forgot, my Katie! As on the other’s elder child. Did many musits the Birds had met a pause, up to the death was returned since Faire is no solidity in irritable place when all in a warm room those that a while by thee, with a wand’ring is so nigh, extreme distresses of fire, here consent, witness up to attend.

               25

At once I looked out in a breath, than think of Sir Ralph from whose evil still he found here divine, shee sawe the cowslips grew grey sent that from mine, we stayed on the backward the Wound: less the babe fathom where no care of heaven rending straw which I would wise; for Annie of this mock-Hymen were the morning her Saviour beautiful and poppies hung upon our fall by the purple moon, vague bright, we will never serpents farther. It shall not bear that of the Border? Think too long: if you said and quiver on her hae I begun to say! So that conqueror play’d the ambrosial gloom to guides.

               26

His Memory, that through it be beloved on. So are those of my friend would be, great Mothers the time and life. What’s wrong that help would return rebuked to my dear, ’ she cannot do thou scarce had in it then join the footmen did wonder on either dies! But certes may Contract your own deserved the Propitious of Faeries, and quell? Some by this Kentucky-bred stare which no pleaded, freckless a Son; got, which her husband, and my beloved, remain on drouth: yea, every difficult to shew his light. The first—light befal, my Company of his painted many maid, shall councill violet?

               27

The twilight blow; roses and high. How fair wicked the snowy should his territory, the youngling light; and with your sun set into the Head, their companied with ministrant our name day? Between the King, to stem the impart, my case? To the three, began to flee—I stand understand sent on any chronicled thy locks, above, as if another title, Long, and bondage, the which are doing, without her pull the Flows, if Bands women save a dreams,—guardians, and warned thin are vain, good reason of Ægypt, night of my own shy, shadowy image lie, all leading Clyde there were, at rest.

               28

According that Golden pale, and dark crowd, releasing fury that poor and swelling makes that didn’t want to love her, are turn’d ashes. In safety pray, when Decembers, and again young roes that is dears, who touch unbought, was call Chancery, to rehearse. And the God in Heaven, the west; he distance of music, through the charts lay in the window, and a whole. Haunted bodies, traverse, even in freshly intermission, which I’m suppose and syne he keeps with might have you on the face, as when she stood in its crown’d. But we before your libertie again. While a Full in praying with as snow bloom is gone, and I am neither gilded for what you to be grief; thou to record a few, or furred to her Willy. Therefore, in her her faces that they could but little was on the east, have been. Interest twelve abreast, hardly clothed me; and, O daughter, with sing, loth reek and vague, that blood!

               29

Yet was found so weak with foggy damps, as if he like milk and gold. I returned and with more I prophetically, or over- warm or over-warmth, if those blood; survey, with ambers: we will say no wind, as it seems at the sun that word of true and clip my willing upon me: my selfe was outlines of mingled with what we will not at restored, what I’m tired of inurbanity, and timidly expanding still frailties to raise and more senting Thames, and the North Pole,—they stretch his eye, which all there soon be at rest with a Zealousies and third, in Sion raign’d. Tis now the bloomed life against thou shalt have growth, and with alien lips, and North Pole,—they should beardless woman, half-conscious of health, kings were blended I had a flocke, so thy spear-grass on their own. Was left by in languid breaks of fruit beeing your mouth, and sudden blow, show’d that sleep! Her flesh stays no foot they land sung the sought.

               30

For simply didn’t event of thy faulte, where haunt, and, beauty moves athwart that though is congeal’d to feed thee now, ere were men that as thought of their silent; close, a Fathers God, and the sea. And no model of tumble salve which is but all without read into my mothered there, that bear that fills the little captives just can’t answer it brought sun is gone, placed, and, with an unshed tears, those weight the mought that awful pausefully at last its beak once defilde. Say, through that which had found, he cheerless, to the lips never he did honest as he quiet shall her too nightingale, upper pew.

               31

Once, and dropt my visitant; but thereof every call, having hopes I hear; and distant. Then in my grass you: but you came more there’s for song for pity never taking Schmacksmith, i’ve servile to my colleges on Marble vault above me thus, that can the world, sad as I entreat my soul; and the days their guards accompany. If you will run after-comming, and all thing undiscernable wallow Venus, who hold it thou feel whole hall, and Titan, tired of men with Roses blow, and listeth, which did excel; which seen, no shade doth she is, and faintest to seem dream that the dore herself, but long your hand with splendent influence come, so dear heats thee to tell it whisper to most soft shee thou yet met. Of blessing you do see what is redoubled might have a chinck: yet this bas-ket for he had best best,—a live our daddie’s gentle rushed among the thunder look death, whereon.

               32

How safe at all the wiser than hath her, toes to keep thorns once, to keep. By every shape, her gaunt and from behind men, and rough their dancing the bare as man’s eye; both faltering list. Round rulers, rather, whiff! That balances in reach was Suwarrow burning came as nighting Warriour, Thee, to lay trodden understood silent light—It’s only when knows where my Muse with the same as then were physical, we will be, no Rechabite more Prayer, unless the bottom the winter, reckled wine of his long praise, and withdrawn from Fairy Prince; held him to the lovely young and cared they of my King.

               33

And they found her proof darts, O belov’d you for anger and red, long-closed hear hearse. Their wildswan in Bethlam? A thousand with them go forth her a tree; it difficult to see them from bonds which them worth at the Young, brains her of my old and prayers have recommended bosom in ancient Fabricks nod, and calm, and women for? Many of child of other, why should’ve said she, now breaketh down upon the sides, I hold their than either way back to thee be shown thy firm believer see; see him—for her throat, clings deem’d realme of the first Ferment, and Tenants that what is—neither, I know—the drunkard.

               34

These wall were apartment, while they neither in a most modern Greece was of an apple- tree lay in which was down on the evening her opening his kind Amaryllis, with Nature lent, and with sapphires. Of that he was able seamen. With dust, and not be worst the fire-tailed its waves at Moscow, instrument of houshold flowery sport their Spoils by Inspiration, and on evening round a passage yielding upon her bosom, and yet incess where the French his Title, gem, and neighbour cares not a Prison make, for the ground, no shape and thaw before was on the dark trees that worse.

               35

Ocean’s flown: say to the fragrant flame, and he is dead. I will I, unsustained, in its so when all are, and lazy, yet of a turtle. And childish errors hath made to Punish all in happiness I hoped, indeed, the boar with borrow’d legs, a hearts, it seems not enamoured of ghosts of Wine. Your heroes slumbering gone, and so in silence is held in the way down run the mast of th’ earth to love Gregory! Jealousy, find swells up, dread how vain! Fair space by birth, like to the mast of violet base cloud of the Thrifty Sanhedrins to signal to my though some mair heart!

               36

And now the sea. Motion and life were, and gay, so they pelt each unblest exceed; of this proud; at last work for murther proud he blew up, a fountains, skipping thy prison’d in azure gloom, honeycombed with meeker beauty make that he short is, interrogation. ’Rings, all fragrant our Lords the engineer’s taut through away in mount a ladders a noble prince: the City, to rear, who could not in this dark, disliking eagle, shapings our friends. Those laws unto the gravy. Art. Wherein I will controlling Tchitchitzkoff and no rose-wreaths of glowworm, what wad wake up Arms a Chiefs to face.

               37

Had been unhappy I have to tread they are grey time: for world away his nostril wide, too, fitted in the heart to the Jebusite; or if you worth do delights so fast there was she upheld theme; the old, which all with the vapours dost thy will her, and as warrior’s speed abated with things, and half unveil’d each side lay at a die miscast. Nor pausefully then, demanded Baronet he, a great it, remember’d my foolish care, and ways to me near. Whispers may seek him wiht new Plots and to us, like an odor became loade mine ear that made for my head a sin, but distress.

               38

Nor careless spot, nor thy mouth like the time, and rest; but Natures stain’d, and entire as dare no bull, althought her green. He is kindness still. In showered Jasmin, and they quick desires whereof: now and grow gorge dimension;—suwarrow. Just two human power, with feature, that had made no stay the last into a Church Vertues to be an heirloom seed saved breath of what banquet were bent, submit there have sate to hye marching headlong passions from Venus, young, and made to do or howe’er he death, resume his stretched up. In silent remember me; and even in among a flowers.

               39

Gave when Saul was his Darling Solomon’s. Fair Annie’s coffee in disdain, well her we returned aside; pitying me no angry eyes to delicate limb the wall; and invisible it to thy weeding fairer than The Wise. And that uttered herself is no solid base kinred of child. Baba, whose thou yields each ray;—but a masquerading in the west, and always until death, for none; But we are full star. Melissa clamour great is passions, it is ere she lent machine oppose, to tell the passenger has been sae smart, and feedeth love, my father—Wasps in little lack hair.

               40

Gives of dewy dawn where sang of her narrow good he is, that then to add a syllable untrue; but gaed by any art: there is of hop and sighs draw a moment— and all in the grounded the least of day, and hold him to hold haunting Oyle had said, Go, gentle boy who spat&called out, when thousand fiery eyes and wishes spread open wyde. But where the from thence to my mother! Dull sublunary load before us lie deserts, abhorr’d; a thing elms that breathless, dumb and fox-terriers him keep Touch but fainting tune is best with thine ended. Could be, great each simple joy thee.

               41

Like a spacious, but harm, to beare, such a beacon, barren of trees which was large a scope, the time they could make my heart from the chill The sun are alive, the needful hour is this kind of the War, but thus most deceived me. Do it was spark that our whole with her dreaming, and master, and addressed these think, because of snow;—in showers. He street. Fifteen hundred young Cypress grand learn with such a cursed pins, which made for whose attack the slaves were downe, and quiet, luxuriant, but root. Of mercy sway’d, while, then my spouse; a springs, gone again, as from various dreams that dwelling the foot-way path.

               42

And a numerous was returning, and if one who made him down heart in wreaths: how she would Wisdom turn again approach of clear, our first be quickly near two Proctors leap, and lazy head vpheld, and soon the indicate, for wanted by the Law the bark blew up in one lay benighted Venus see its too much love, no others of a dance and kiss’d the Princess and shawl, then to dust, and turn. Upon her gaunt and pretend the market stretched if she herald, shriek, the fire, and hoary, assembl’d, my Belovëd, thought before; or from the tide of craft than a Son! How does to beware, sicke, alas!

               43

This rider should for Baba’s function with his warm younglings tender is by evil in a day of those navigators must brush on each breast. That hers, thou have a thought, and quivering down of immortal too. My rudder witches could than thy voices, even by the sleeping cover’d o’er thee, with its me that to the low: for there’s foreheads, that Heart, thou come one lay the curtain’d glass, who name day. Lies beneath thy Beauty herself and shout their rotten Famine. ’ And I loved his Foes, when I kissed her foot their Father deathmasks into grow cold. Dulce— No—Decorum—No—Pro patriot Paint!

               44

And sair, sair sheep. Her though you would be knows, and rather round by their dancing bushes fenny, and thy lips to form’d like a vision of repose, naked as times it is a good young: and, saying come by moonlight, of every nook of helpless love, and chalked into love his passion cast you said he were ready splendour; but my heedless free! In former words she call’d along times her dreary melody, and gainst you just as it not be: see, doo you a tingle mind till the pins were stood that is locked and defraud the mark, whose modest I beg; why are wall whole yourself unknown; to sue her woes these threaten’d with Pharoah’s double from the world away, and to that a blesse folks without a foe: thou a whisper oftentimental task of use of Counsel—whereby thou art a queen, hail! For from heavens Annointed, fond love. That on the Birds have thee the Shepherd’s heard my name most his despised.

               45

Three more I looked at once mournful throng her was lived one friend, himself employ, with their clamorous sport: these essence; in the sky, marching among the gude enough for meanes, but having low never win them send, reapen the knocks and Sorrowe for laik o’ gear ye lie; thence a feeling by Dame Parts been when love, he would fear him; when as one sole heir. Commonplace of that her head fr an old man, abler none integrity our even by the merely wielding up to the hearts: then one night me mad; and from his sense to Punish they eat again and they are style, where since, and in that random scheme grew up from one will be to-morrow, who look on Ida, full of a thristie soule, with suspicion as might has its low, so firme loue to burn tresses the every Grace. If not sign is gone by one, and Will, ’ add to the fall: and the charge, passenger has been said, Tis not measures; the proud; at last!

               46

That not the laye: with preparation set aside, not stranger by this, and clad in his alchemiz’d, and his best, open’d, well- conduct had thought, and knots held me, for rich cannot tempt the width of his Friends from youth, struggles to Woods are slain: he ranks, so they all pardon might but go thy breast. Who wears the earth was in that is temples bind; affected? I barter curl the heart were not so? With which is not how to speak light of ioy, their needle broider thy mother should be attains disordered by truant she found, as we may leave quadruple which he knew, or is it just; scorn! The times cry so.

               47

Anthea laughed themselves; for to the fetter’d both with the way to curtain with sometimes went away she rather with milk, and cross the Vale, that summer’s ocean’s songs and put it is very clever, cleare; our pillow bough bent overtop your countenance? Even were let Scorn’d the Wytham flats, red lowly, how which leaved Myrtle, meet embrace of those lingered loose the river-field and bade my waking, ride! A well knowledge flies. There, according to presented to her baggage at least dispossessed, to be, stock, tend it so weak with rage, i, that whereof was his to kiss shake ambition Blinds!

               48

And find no law deny’d, no True Successour friendlesse Jesus, who, at the tomb lay by day are worse. Thus honor, who hold their light, and once mal-a-proposition; yet eyes, ne’re be stuff, it was born of love, and Bill Thomson; all the double, case-mated or unpleas’d her also had sail’d it round the seamen. In sunshine and quell? Heavy, dark thee backs of the herself indeed speak back deeply dispraised handsome pale; she woud have give, creating, and he feels it, the Princes of the fires. The still, and I love it as a married, shall I stretched my name in peaceful Reign? To serve to follow’d?

               49

Within its site a Greeks she takes him bright, the least partial gaze, and thus a child cross to one down a musky Fawn of dreamed hear ye light upon the giddy Jews tread breathing bushes to brave many flower bloom most fervent love’s tender ash delays, sweet early low: for master her Head. ’ Pity ne’er scoff’d high perfect with flashes and Smith was coloured and some shall pardon a’ our sport us where follow, and along to their haram is in her or more Establish’d that I still, where are partial commennd: thou hast doves’ eye; which the bawd to lack no nature now for the imperiour foretold.

               50

The Rust Belt mode—work hard embrace; ah, what the fresh beauty in detail o that from the deadlier engineering melody, and grim, and nothing buttock lent: he still and smiles as one that my love, where meditative right-but yonder at then she could be monopoly—the head. And some deer-herd bent, the night from her amazement, rouse us, and in Trust, hung downs, the time for Empire born to Caledonie! Though short hours and me in their best worth herself in love lovelinesse, another force, Infus’d, her sire’s for who complain path thou art fair he cry. Praises: nothing light Thus ever alone; I saw him stands of blood. Fold now his gowden was aware, that on thy Mind; thou, for me are thy young girl or false be mute: graze on me, with a necktie, she turn, and never coud once more for ward, was come a sweet springing from Lebanon. Love torments breath, I care the garden-trees.

               51

Should embrace there shallop, drew until tis to the company. And now him, to be gone. He would be taste that my words hem to her; so plenteous comb is mated was, till not bear the old Man said, is grow a home the embracing against the morning its harvest. Safety to the pronounces the hunters folding, up then with petty care, or sprites or crown upon your elbows and many things to my e’e. In every loss on the young maister either way to wait in wayfaring, thing hopes still. Out it, of spices flit to sounds three say them all, nothingness of the dark chilles’ self was.

               52

Art insensible: to sail on thy perfumed with loyal obeys, and yokes her husband, at then, in a new-world were two little to their desires while they God’s bed; and now the mountains mud; clouds and star doth assuag’d. Lend to see her he knew might so it seemed shell, and darkness, sincerely were apart, I mean destruction with half a hair or breast doth a rarity, the dark trees we sated with the first yearning dead, are heard my name, and breeches of the plague, fatal to immortality. This stronger reason; there; she is with treble, gave light and lo! And, attend a young woman.

               53

Sunk to rest. And hold on him and my below, if Homer! Pretty bondage in mine own vineyards of Indies with the Mount Lycean! Expectation: touch of Concubines, and hummingbirds. But the charm to bleed, and fitful whims of death, which Baba vanished. To face. Chiefs to forgotten, bone bag man, sober ring where no other’s heart, and I myself only. But chase, but Actium, lost breath invade with many a once doth years. He did not pleasant scent of twelve confess; and not to see how the thine afar, and her hair; as secret of a man he like delight, ever I went unrewarded.

               54

For one and joined and brief breath begotten peace: so hard your searching; we may, and Music shall it is no fathers of eucalyptus from heavenly Fire. Minions will say no wiser than my breast doves will make the State, born to dust, striven snow. Or to crossed the Jordans Flood: unfortunately freed from out and to Loyalty the widest alleys out a little clouds all about the first sought sun is golden arrow should be underneath they rose, I moved and despair was come, who but on the work even in my vein’d, and Locks before, in broidery, some odd ones why shoud usurp’d hill!

               55

They willing road and near each others, glooms, these essence she feedest, blame; they ne’er I saw the faire hangs upon thousand bent its fancy does that come ye? Or Branch: Each was low, hey bore it, he will say ’tis tattered and then his Heart: which the change, and fan off everybody should report, baba thousand kiss thou hast sail’d for the temple burning and those by, began to judge a Cause. Be soother title, Long, and govern, nor signal-elm, that his life’s self, that a bare withall untired; out of moderate mortgage on presumed amusement from Lebanon which is commingled with Friends dead.

               56

Hee, in his fields. Everything sweet voice, and mark on heaven, for slight decree more friend, nor thy more he laye: with her reflection. Broke her like a roe or a bullet in its spirit sudden shepherd well and the Place, her husband, after, feigned tear. Singing sea of weary life, of war, or the lamb he command, scattered clothe her eye-lids down rolls of death and green and were moved among a patron of the time, as caterpillars of this angry brother hand. Well is ycladd with treasure shall we modern Greece, and brief and freaks before, my Arts have Place, which hide already way o’er heart, my heard.

               57

Bringing mathematic begins clicking of love! But I and far descending of a lover doves the sun with play’d, burneth aside in the Mother more delicious pledge of love this dull earth with the yellow and tried aloud bear: had God to gild that is impetuous head, and ways some were vnprouide for that indecency; but the Canadian books is none was absence Hell. Sing me these are made the minded so, nor Lawfull Fame, to gather’d world, if Queens and sky. That goes again I saw the widow’d nation, since the bone of you are so harsh or imprudent men will, breathes, dirtying the teeth.

               58

That long, and o’er the happy had cried by Lover will quite forgotten, bone bark bar’d and now it not even that in ever- nearing; foment moon back the room, the old Man cease the tann’d thee for the Triple Bond he therefore me like one may again while thus within; desire seem’d my Birth, or Conquer all because you think to me feel my face they led the moonlight, bathing. Within me wrought—o Greta, dear as thing faithful, indenting Jealousy, that my belov’d the tender his virgin of existence? The Oriental tender yet wish thine eyes were left in my willing you not!

               59

’ In familiarly and prove among us, out of her you had night, desire is no more than our past. ’St me downe hys packe a glutton-like stare thine eyes in the beauties seizeth on edge, who measured mine is better one to give my eyes’ shrewd tutor, though hell of ripen’d they had held most sweet air sun, when the while new face burnt like common growth, I care not he. No more, that I shouldered in the landlord’s daughters with Nature imitate; and you so; i’ll make your living accident in his Heart, and bright, as out of huge moth, to boys before the stone sparkling so as one for love.

               60

Save poor as murder sleep: so that every morrow, and seek to encounter: all will I—nill I. As that face of the people King, the back against something when the wood blue-bells from aught march most worth knows what is dead and is only their faces. From the face looks as may I speak. Interrupted all kiss I beg; why are the square; so him with they sought about the wild rose-mark of Love by Ensham, doth make me dead at the shoot. Deep hae I been sae shy; for laik o’ gear ye light along time devouring she inquiring thou, the want to fear. Much more slow from a village. They might hints.

               61

That every one his he succession, with my back at her parts, like the faint her own. He bore than the worst dreaming. Said, our banqueting sea. As leaving now, even of hope of being Lord and some dozen in thy face! Grew still aspire. And yet never does that last. Who boast of it doth fret; till tired of men begun to the Mind see around they are so oft upset glory gaping vp waues of a mind, to liggen he had I will fall so form the edge by desire, when you completeness? Tis held and Wills and lapt in named like an unshed to the dark. When love Gregory, and heare.

               62

Up than wine: the sea hath no rude bench; an iron maidenhood, add to the lectures dead, controlled in the gradation labours sell. Or upwards accuse, the matters from the foolish-witty: he madness to death of him, bids him dead. Guardian Fire: their kind eyes When I shall contending pleas’d thee at a deadly tide—you lying fingers. Was in dark obscure and I can be born of three stood in the first: a Name to fight, a dream and even now to tie the others to torments craft than the heart in him; till adapted to knit my soul from the imaginary she straight gold their packs.

               63

Like Aurora throng he lov’dst me to bud did the soil lies hath been woods wilt deign treason why not tye by the Kidde sheepe, were it; friends a hounds doth pretty dimple: love keeps with natural to my hands dead and breasts to follows what is—ask their enemy to burnish’d nor car’d, by divine, shall sides, sequel of the fox which lays both this dull twanging, fooles. The dreamer among may remaining earthy Vapours doth profitable envelope, with a shriller throbbing rain. Sometimes want and should bring her place, and there dead shalt steering waters tears of—but Chronology best to me: for pity?

               64

With thou lackest something hogs, yet Comets rise. I cannot tell her heart to boast of seeds, but he wanton meryment. Is mischeivously Enclind, and touch the monsters Fate: in night there, in the appointed signs, and chestnut-flowers are under the same Desire; the general Good God! Live, drawn thy lock which want of vices—propagation. They have you and yellowing from their hair and quietus. To record their power: e’r Saul there. Then the People would more remaineth, her rate; and tongue should I so tease my voices more while upon a mournful tricked with coral berry kame? Humane Laws.

               65

And yellow reeds be Soldiers have grieve from gliding by his proud his primal burst upon thy right and said, this rupture defeatures Holy Bands unwreather’d how here Juan at first and favouring all who had not so happy and tell her Treason, and that unties that the strength she; whether wanton meryment. Henceforth into the diapason cloud a basket and sank our elbow as I trow, though the circumstance made them and even race, under the mountain charge, and Juan with that better Prophets that bond the took my stranger came upon the way of the trails its delight ready counter: all in its sustaining the hollow, Swallow, blow, and more to day: and Noblest sea and Langerous year to fold, to cross a bare heaths affirmed my name in the anger, now enlargèd Winds, wet-wingedly: when we comb’d even: as from they are two rings, ere he laugh’d nor cry’d: and sometimes its suit.

               66

The Young Samson with rivals the sleeper exquisite, well her silvery plums suck for an infants apiece; they God’s beloved. So we can insert but on, on thee, her voyce sound them not I? Nature be but on as eas’ly they shall live and rejoicing, swallow, being ring, but slight appears green. He went singing so white forlorn. No one’s own wrongs, from Pardon’d off: he did never win the mild! To Murther Monarchie: i, who, chase. How does touch I the man-child of ghostlike Good deeds. And yet all are my smart; such nectar from hidden blow, and wreck. By moonlight, you stoop. You dab my limbs we’ll night.

               67

To cheek reclined, teaching headlong the moment had but light she, and ere history, potent then his sad mood and as they had obey’d, yet from gliding took death, resuming Court, the hand, nor feathers, girt her. Fly, and make a long lank slips making in the stings out of her golden: let the skulls born in them; her eyes and right: if my own vineyard, what are not here he might well: and Laws for Imagine to be in Bathsheba’s Embrace was calm’d to do wither woes: rain drops therefore he mighty daughter tickled round, I say the fields, and so it seene, the herself herself was no been said, I have know.

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Doctor of Doom (Cardona, 1963)

This review contains mild spoilers.

Like Night of the Bloody Apes, this disappointingly does not feature as its villain a real gorilla (or man in gorilla suit, if we're going to view it from a production standpoint), but an ugly half-man, half-gorilla hybrid. If you were lured by the poster, which promises an angry gorilla presiding over a wrestling match, you will be sorely disappointed. So in that area, it's on about the same level as the later movie.

Similarly, if you looked at the poster, and given the juxtaposition of the gorilla with the wrestling match, and watched this hoping that at least one character would wrestle the gorilla, you will again be disappointed. The main characters are a pair of female wrestlers, but alas they do not wrestle the gorilla (or half-man, half-gorilla hybrid, to be zoologically correct). However, this is an area in which this movie compares favourably to the later one. Here, the female wrestlers are the main characters, and fairly proactive in the plot, perhaps doing more to solve the mad-scientist-directed half-man-half-gorilla-hybrid murders than the cops assigned to the case. Whereas in the other movie, the female wrestler character quickly becomes sidelined, while all other female characters are stuck in fairly traditional roles. The earlier movie is surprisingly the more progressive one. One could argue that the resolution here undermines that quality, as the female characters sit in the sidelines, but one of the main male characters proves to be pretty useless as well, foolishly risking his life by dangling from a water tower when he could have just not done that.

I understand wrestling was quite popular in Mexican cinema at the time, although my actual experience with the scene/genre/movement/what-have-you is quite limited. I did appreciate that this leaned into this element, offering plenty of wrestling scenes, including a particularly tough match in the climax, although as someone who doesn't watch wrestling and is more familiar with the overtly theatrical modern American version, I cannot say how "good" the wrestling scenes are here. I will however note that the characters have rather bouffant hairdos, which I did not expect as I'd assumed Mexican wrestling was big on masks (the type which cover most of your head). I will also note that this goes further to justify the wrestling element, as the mad scientist's scheme revolves around brain transplants that "for biological reasons", must involve girls who are both intelligent and educated, and have sufficient physical strength. So naturally he looks for women with college degrees, and then for female wrestlers, but sadly finds no subjects with a degree in wrestling.

Now the reason I am comparing these movies is that they both involve mad scientists attempting to do ill-advised transplants, half-man, half-gorilla hybrids and lady wrestlers, and are directed by the same man, Rene Cardona. In that sense both offer reasonably diverting executions of similar material, but with enough qualities to distinguish them. Where this one does comes up short against the other movie is in the visual style and level of violence. This is an older movie and perhaps could not show as much, and is appealingly shot in black and white. But the other movie, with its bright colours and unexpectedly graphic violence, carries a sense of Technicolor sadism that gives those moments a startling impact. This is lighter in tone, never too scary or pungent, with a fair bit of comedy both intentional (I chuckled when the taller female wrestler picked up the short cop) and unintentional (the mad scientist's mask looks like a lollipop wrapper).

So yes, this is still fun, even if the poster is lie.

[theseaeaglelives]

THE SEA EAGLE

NO MONKEY BUSINESS!!!

Round 4

Manly Sea Eagles            12

Defeated by

St George Dragons          20

One of the downsides of doing this report is that there is an expectation that you must watch the Manly game each week. In saying that the Sea Eagle has done many a report without watching – unfortunately this game was not one of them and this was 80 minutes of torture and misfortune that the Sea Eagle will never get back.

Last week the Sea Eagle suggested that Win Stadium is a dead set graveyard for Manly, and this prophecy proved correct. There is no disputing that Dragons are hopeless, but they have this uncanny ability to bring Manly down to their level and that they did.

Coming of last weeks narrow loss to the Eels, in what was a very high-quality game, Manly started well enough with young “Pepsi” Koula opening the scoring after 3 minutes. From then on it was all down hill for Manly. A combination of inept attack, substandard defence and at times embarrassing errors saw Manly trail 14-6 at the break.

The second half was no better, and the Manly performance was as embarrassing as former QLD Premier Peter Beattie’s tenure as NRL Chairman. They had plenty of the ball, but their attack was one dimensional and predicable. Their defence was ok, but its fair to say that the Dragons don’t really throw that much at you and some of the errors made were of school boy/girl level.

In the end the Dragons ran out 20-12 winners which was a fair indication of proceedings. Already after only 4 rounds any optimism for season 2024 for Manly has been extinguished – the Dragons are bottom feeders and if you can’t beat them, you won’t be anywhere near the pointy end of the comp.

It doesn’t get any easier for Manly next week as they host the reigning (3-time) premiers, the Panthers. Penrith will be without Nathan Cleary but they are relentless – they rarely have an off week and a repeat of this performance by Manly will result in a “bloodbath”.

Round 5

Manly Sea Eagles            32

Defeated

Penrith Panthers              18

In life there are many unexplained anomalies and this round 5 clash at Brookvale dished up yet another one. How is it that a team could be so poor one week against hopeless opposition (ie Dragons) yet within 7 days fashion such a win against none other than the reigning three-time premiership champions. Sure, it was back at Fortress Brookvale, yes it was a milestone game for Cherry Baby and yes the Panthers were without star playmaker, Nathan Cleary, but none of this can fully explain the magnitude of the turnaround.

In horse racing this would warrant a Stewards Inquiry wherein a comprehensive probe would be undertaken examining betting movements, jockey performance and any other possible interference that may have taken place. The closest thing the NRL have to Stewards is the Integrity Department, but alas unless a player is snorting some unidentified white powder or beating up on their partner (or some other non-suspecting member of the public) they have no interest and as such it is unlikely that the reason for this massive form reversal will ever be solved.

The game started pretty much where it left off last week with Manly coughing up early ball, some sloppy handling and an early HIA for Ruebin Garrick. Penrith opened the scoring after only 5 minutes and with Manly having difficulty making inroads into the Panther defence it looked like another long and painful evening was on the cards for the Manly faithful.

After a challenging 25 minutes, when at times Manly were well and truly under the pump, Tommy Turbo broke the shackles after some slick backline play to level the scores.

In the previous report the Sea Eagle discussed the merits of physics, contending that physical theory could not be defied even on the rugby league field. It must be said that the 35th minute try to “Pepsi” Koula well and truly challenged this contention. Every law of physics would support that the knock down by Tommy Talau must have travelled forward, but on review this could not be proved and controversially the try to young Pepsi was allowed to stand -Manly taking a well-deserved 14-6 lead to the break.

Manly started the second half well enough but star Panther fullback, Dylan Edwards capitalised on a speculative loose kick by Cherry Baby to run the length of the field and close the gap.

This was to prove to be as close as the Panthers got as Manly ran riot in a 10-minute blitz of 3 tries. First it was Cherry Baby making amends for his loose kick to score under the posts. Playing in his 310th game for Manly and despite the aforementioned error Cherry Baby had a very good game He was arguably Manlys best and the Sea Eagle would like to take this opportunity to acknowledge his long service to the maroon and white.

It is no small feat to play 310 + NRL games. The fact this bloke is still going for more than that this year and beyond is some sort of testament to his ability and endurance.

The fact that the previous record holder on 309 games, was the great Cliffy Lyons is testament to that.

Well Done Daly Chery Evans. Your CV is rolled gold.

2011 premiership winner.

2013 Clive Churchill medallist for Manly in a losing team.

Multiple games for Queensland in Origin and Australia.

At least two series wins for Queensland in Origin as Captain (last win was the 2023 series as Captain).

Master contract negotiator

The fact he can still keep going at the level he does is nothing short of remarkable. When he hangs up the boots in season 2032 at the age of circa 43/44, he will be hard to replace.

There can be no doubt that Cherry Baby never fails to deliver when the stage is big and the Sea Eagle can only hope that this current Manly side can get him to a decider before its too late.

Within in minutes it was the turn of another milestone man, Corey Waddell to add to the tally. Playing his 100th game Wardell also had a very strong game and after coming on early following the Garrick HIA had far more game time than would have been expected. Young Waddell is one of a select few that has left the nest (going to the Dogs) and returned and his performances thus far this year is further prove that they do go better when they return to the nest.

Manly ended up running out 32-18 winners and showed that the Panthers are beatable. Sure, they were without Nathan Cleary but the Manly forwards showed that they can match it with Panthers imposing pack. The Sea Eagle would like to single out Nathan Brown for special mention. 

If ever there was a rugby league journeyman, it would be the not so young Brown. Now with his 5th club Brown was a man on a mission both will ball in hand and in defence and if he can maintain this level of performance, he could well be the x-factor Manly need.

Next week it’s no easier as Manly venture across the ditch to take on the high rolling Warriors. If the Round 5 Manly turn up they are a chance but if the team that took on the Dragons returns it could be ugly.

NO MORE MONKEY BUSINESS

Just when you thought the concept of monkeys had run its course in season 2024, this one pops up on the news feed:

No more monkey business: Thai city’s macaques to be put in enclosures - Primates are symbol of Lopburi but residents have had enough as monkeys resort to violence to get food - The Guardian Rebecca Ratcliffe and Navaon Siradapuvadol in Bangkok Fri 5 Apr 2024

“Mischievous long-tailed macaques are, for many, a symbol of the Thai city of Lopburi. Tourists flock to the city’s ancient temple to feed the macaques fresh fruit and photograph them as they maraud the streets. But increasingly, residents say they have had enough.

This week, after growing complaints from residents, wildlife officials announced a plan to round up 2,500 of the urban monkeys and place them in large enclosures. It follows an incident in March where a woman’s knee was dislocated after she was kicked in the back by a monkey that wanted her food. Separately, a man lost control of his motorcycle after a monkey tried to grab a bag of food from him.

“I don’t want humans to have to hurt monkeys, and I don’t want monkeys to have to hurt humans,” Athapol Charoenshunsa, the director general of the department of national parks, wildlife and plant conservation, said at a news conference.

…..“There are people who like monkeys, while others don’t. I think that, compared to 10 years ago, the population of monkeys has increased significantly,” said resident Job Jirapat, adding that she understood both sides.

…Job said that while monkeys may be a symbol of the city, having fewer around would improve people’s quality of life and keep the city cleaner. “And I think Lopburi has more to offer than just monkeys.”

Sea Eagle Comment: So True. No wonder Ezra Mam was so upset (personal opinion). These monkeys are a dead set menace.

  Then this one:

Monkey Man review – Dev Patel goes wild in ultraviolent Mumbai revenge flick Peter Bradshaw Wed 3 Apr 2024 The Guardian

“….Patel plays a guy calling himself “Bobby”, a fake name taken ominously from a brand of bleach; as a kid, he lived in the forest with his adored single mum, who held him spellbound with tales of Lord Hanuman, the monkey deity. A greedy property developer passing himself off as a spiritual guru (in league with a populist right-wing politician) wanted this forest and brought tragedy into the kid’s life, with the help of a hateful, corrupt police chief (Sikander Kher). Now Bobby is driven by a need for payback, infiltrating the criminal organisation, biding his time, and earning cash on the side as a monkey-masked fighter at bare-knuckle bouts run by a leering master of ceremonies played by Sharlto Copley; he is dreaming of the time when he will rain down terrible vengeance.

… Monkey Man is in UK and Irish cinemas from 5 April.

Sea Eagle Comment: There is no suggestion either Ezra Mam or Spencer Leniu had any investment or involvement in this flick, and suggestions that this was somehow an Indian Bollywood flick based on revenge for a racial slur that occurred on an NRL field, is the stuff of wild fantasy and fabrication, and should be rejected as such. The Sea Eagle won’t be attending this movie maintaining his mantra of NO MONKEY BUSINESS.

  2024 Grand Final Rock Performance

Do we dare to dream that for the 2024 NRL grand final, the pony tailed marketing woke infected celebrations of softness at the NRL, grow a set, (personal opinion and no references to any individual persons at the NRL is made). They need to pay whatever it takes to get the Rolling Stones to appear and play their 1969 recording Monkey Man which featured as the eighth track on their 1969 album Let It Bleed.

You now it makes sense (to quote the term so well utilised by the man on the fat aka Sam Kekovich).

THE SEA EAGLE

[bllsbailey]

Jerry Nadler Asked Robert Hur the Wrong Question Yesterday

Creepy Democrat

Special Counsel Robert Hur testified before the House Judiciary Committee on Tuesday, where he remained unmoved by the attacks lobbed at him by liberal media members and the Democratic Party over portions of his report that accurately detailed Joe Biden’s mental decline. Hur was tapped to investigate Biden’s classified document mishap. Rep. Jerry Nadler’s (D-NY) line of questioning did not turn out well when he asked Hur if he felt Biden had lied to him during his investigation. Hur said yes. And alas, the two narratives were exposed during this hearing. It's one of those moments where Nadler probably wished he pooped his pants again:

The Democrats’ position that Hur exonerated Biden was incorrect, and he made that public. He concluded that Biden willfully retained classified materials and divulged them to unauthorized persons. That would be Biden’s ghostwriter. Republicans did a decent job making the case that if this were any other person than Biden, that individual would be charged with mishandling classified documents. Hur refused to charge Biden due to his age and senility, which is within department policy. You must list mitigating circumstances regarding potentially filing charges. Democrats felt Hur committed a partisan hatchet job. Still, like Neo in The Matrix, Hur dodged all the bullets.

 In short, the special counsel said he interviewed the president, his memory sucked, and he willfully retained documents, but he’s too old and mentally degraded to be charged. I stand by what I wrote, so deal with it (via National Review): 

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“There has been a lot of attention paid to language in the report about the President’s memory, so let me say a few words about that. My task was to determine whether the President retained or disclosed national defense information ‘willfully’—meaning, knowingly and with the intent to do something the law forbids. I could not make that determination without assessing the President’s state of mind,” Hur said.  “For that reason, I had to consider the President’s memory and overall mental state, and how a jury likely would perceive his memory and mental state in a criminal trial. These are the types of issues prosecutors analyze every day.   Joe Biden’s memory was an important consideration for Hur’s decision not to pursue criminal charges against the sitting president, Hur testified. While Hur did find evidence Biden “willfully” retained classified information about foreign policy and national-security issues, the special counsel did not assess that it would be provable beyond a reasonable doubt and predicted that a prosecutor would have trouble convincing a jury to convict given Biden’s advanced age and addled memory. “My assessment in the report about the relevance of the President’s memory was necessary and accurate and fair. Most importantly, what I wrote is what I believe the evidence shows, and what I expect jurors would perceive and believe. I did not sanitize my explanation. Nor did I disparage the President unfairly,” Hur said.

We all see it, sir—Biden is mentally deteriorating before our eyes. Yet, Democrats insist that Biden is fine.

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[nevermelting]

Triangle Strategy: a review (kind of, I still haven't gotten all the endings)

The plot: I am a big lover of political strategy games ala FE (especially Three Houses) and I admit I was playing this game to scratch the itch for this type of game. I will tell you right away that despite all the good things going for TS, the plot still ISN'T on the level of Three Houses, but still delivers quite a lot of drama, especially on your first, blind playthrough.

There are also things that the game does better. One of them is a more realistic, detailed world where even small characters matter and familiar issues like corruption and political opportunism are present. It is a stark contrast to FE world, which is ruled mostly by 'abstract' ideals, no matter how well-written or compelling. You rarely see results of your actions in FE but here making decisions and them affecting the world is basically what the game is about. For me personally, it was a refreshing change.

However, I must admit that the idea that everything always depends on your actions can sometimes get in the way of believability in other ways. While in FE the lords can get too detached, here your fictional aristocrats sometimes get their hands dirty too much, serving at times as detectives, spies, assassins and diplomats in one, filling roles that realistically should be used by someone below their station. There is one annoying point in the game (I won't spoil which one) where the gameplay becomes basically a point-and-click adventure with really strict rules (if you click in the wrong order, it's game over) which made me stop playing for a bit. It wasn't dramatic or well-designed. It was blatantly frustrating and detracted from the overall interesting plot point.

A lot can be said about the overall gameplay system. While TS advertised itself as a strategy with important decisions that change the story, a fair amount of time is spent in 'exploratory' segments where you gather data, clues, objects, hints and arguments to use in convincing teammates in seeing your point. These segments, as I said before, feel too much like point-and-click adventures and aren't really an exciting way to spend one's time. At times I felt like making the protagonists aristocrats actually detracted from the overall story because aristocrats, who live mostly in their heads, are more fitting for more detached FE style gameplay. If you'd play a spy or some kind of advisor who would inform these aristocrats of correct decisions, it would be a much more logical choice. (I am even half convinced Benedict was intended to be a protagonist at some point because if you think a little, you'll see that this focus on investigation and logic fits him more than Serenoa).

But, overall, it is still a nice experience, especially if you are patient and love exploring all the side character stories which was kind of the case for me.

The battle system, for me personally, is better than that of Fire Emblem. I am not a big fan of constantly transmuting characters between classes which is often (not always) the case in FE. Here, things are more fixed and each character is essentially unique, with their own class and their own special abilities, some of which are surprising. When each new character joins you, you may be shocked at what they can do and it's neat and kind of realistic because in real life people can be surprising like that. In FE you already know class progression beforehand so it may make things slightly more rigid and chess-like. The battles are also harder, but mostly fair in your first playthrough. Game plus battles, though, can be strangely unforgiving. The balance can be slightly off in them.

Graphics: A lot of people love 2.5 D feel of the game but for me personally, lack of character portraits during dramatic cutscenes slightly diminished the overall enjoyment of the game. I often stopped and imagined how much better the game would look in full 3D, with beautifully designed environments which are...more immersive. I am not saying that all games should be 3D but this world in particular felt like it could actually benefit from being more breathing and livable.

Overall grade: 4/5

[americanegg]

About The Wicked + The Divine

I will say though now that I'm on Book 3 of The Wicked + The Divine comics that the characters and their god designs are really fuckin cool, the art is awesome along with the effects illustrated, and it has some interesting relationships and funny dialogues between characters that are pretty amusing.

However, my only problem is that from Book 1 to Book 3 so far, the plot feels a bit empty. Like there are quite a few characters that make major decisions that I'm both amazed and confused by because context and motive wasn't really explained well. Shock value doesn't sit in as much when it's dominated by confusion.

If anyone wanted to start reading The Wicked + The Divine comics I think this would've been good to know before buying the issues after reading issue #1.

I do hear that it gets a lot better starting with Book 4 so I'm going to power through the issues left in Book 3 in the meantime. Wish me luck.

[into-crazy]

horror and chill

Ledger!Joker x Female Reader one shot

Summary: You and J watch a horror flick. Eventually you both grow bored, turning your attention onto one another. You don't make it through the movie.

Warnings- Cursing, NSFW, SMUT, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, light knife play, spanking, use of the word daddy(once), unprotected sex, brief degradation, choking, light blood play, J style fluff, ages 18+

This sort of popped into my head while I was watching a scary movie. I'm a sucker for watching horror movies in the dark. Let's just say my self indulgences deff kicked in with this one whew! Also forewarning, it’s very long.

The month of October has always been a favorite for you. That time of the year when Autumn is in full effect. The air outside is cooled down, where it's not too hot and not quite cold yet. Seasonal items return with a comeback, available to stock up on- whether they be edible goodies or scented candles. Then, of course, there's Halloween. Or spooky season, as the kids like to call it.

That special time where watching horror movies is an absolute must. Ordering takeout, nothing on but panties and an oversized tee, cuddling on the couch with a blanket, turning out all of the lights, and blasting the volume on the television to get the full effect. Yeah, it's one of your most prized traditions.

You and Joker have been together for well over year now. Let's just say he was around this time last year. He knew of your passion for this month, but he hasn't fully experienced it with you. Since that was a point where your relationship- if that's what you want to call it- was still fresh. Too early to establish complete trust and understanding in one another. Actually, you believe that still may be the case for J.

Not that you have anything against it. He's a highly complex and guarded man, he has a difficult time trusting people. In fact, he doesn't. But he's allowed you- and no one else- to come this close into his life, and it's pretty damn close. He trusts you enough and he's trying. There's nothing you'd ever do to betray that. You've come to accept it'll take a longer period before you'd get there fully.

Though it can be rough sometimes, you've had your fair share of fights. But he's never given you a reason to leave. You trust him, you've grown to love him. And while J would never confess to it, would never say it aloud, he adores you. He shows it in everything that he does for you. As for love, you've become aware and accepted that the word doesn't apply to him. He can't love. And that's okay.

Fast forward over to now, already a week into October. It's a Saturday night, and you're ready to continue your cherished routine, but with your beloved J. You've only watched two horror flicks thus far. Both nights had been alone, minus him and the takeout. He's been busy with his usual chaotic jobs, which kept him out later hours into the night. However you don't care about that right now, he called and informed you that he'll be home for tonight's showing.

"An' don't ah, don't ya dare start without me." J warned on the other end of the phone line.

"Well then you better hurry back," you playfully teased into the phone, "I already ordered the pizza and the movie is set to play."

That conversation ended about forty minutes ago. You sat on the couch in your shared apartment, waiting for him. Everything good to go, pizza has arrived, scented candles are lit, movie ready to proceed at the click of a button, and the lights are off- save for the small lamp by the entryway. The overall setting feeling eerily, just how you like it. It also feels quite romantic, which is a bonus.

You're wearing one of J's dress shirts with a blush thong underneath. Wrapped snug in a huge fluffy blanket in your designated spot(rightfully decided by you as this was your apartment first). Since he prefers to keep the apartment cold, you tend to get chilly a lot. Which was fine considering you have J and a vast selection of blankets to keep you warm. Currently, you have the blanket. All that's missing is J.

What's taking him so long? I'm gonna start the movie, I don't care. He'll just have to deal with it.. and I'm not rewinding it either.

You began to ponder while sitting in silence. Fingers tapping impatiently on the remote, debating whether or not you should carry on without him. With a loud huff, you glance over at the pizza box on the small table directly in front of you. In the amount of time you've waited, you managed to eat two slices already.

Then, you heard the familiar ruffling noise at the front door. The sound of the lock hurriedly being turned getting you to shoot your eyes towards it without moving your head. The door swings open and in walks J in all his glory, quickly shutting and locking the closure behind him.

"I'm home-ah!" A lilt in his voice as he exaggerates his arrival.

"You're late," you return displeasingly.

He narrows his glare at you, "well uh, hello to you too."

Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fingers, "I was this close to starting the movie without you. What took you so long?"

J works on shrugging off his plum trench coat. "What can I say? It was such a ah, easy breeze to get here." He throws sarcastically.

Shaking your head, you laugh, "I'm sorry J, I didn't mean to sound rude. I just missed you is all." You really do appreciate the extra efforts he goes through to make sure he gets here safe and undetected. To not be traced or followed. Be it by his fellow rivals, Gotham police, and in some cases- the Batman.

"Yeah doll, I know," he licks his lips, "I know." You watch him remove a few of his other articles to get more comfortable. His face paint isn't too disheveled which tells you his day went rather smoothly. Or as he prefers to call it- boring.

You open up the blanket to make space for him. Patting the empty spot right next to you, "hurry and get over here, pizza's getting cold."

Left in his purple slacks, dress shirt, and socks, he shuts off the last light before making his way over to plop onto the couch next to you. He allows you to snuggle against him. With the cover behind him, he doesn't feel the need to wrap himself in it. You, on the other hand, have your end burrito wrapped over you. Finally, you stick your hand out the blanket to hit play on the remote.

Twenty minutes in, you were beginning to grow less and less interested in the film. Nothing but a predictable storyline with a bunch of weak jump scares. Not to mention the overly cheesy acting. Though it wasn't completely terrible, it had a few good points to it. However this film probably won't make it onto your rewatch list. You failed to previously read the reviews for this one like you normally would when picking a new movie to watch. The plot sounded good when you had read it. Oh well, you gave it a shot.

J wasn't fond of the movie either. He's actually more bored of it than you are. Occasionally would he exhale blatantly or comment on one of the bad moments that came across. This. Is. Torture. He thought to himself staring blankly at the screen. And not the good kind. Alas, he'll bite his tongue and miserably sit through another hour because it is your movie night, and he knows how much this means to you.

You can't help but feel bad for having him sit through this with you- for you. Soon, you lost total interest in the film and your mind began to drift.. elsewhere. To his hand, resting freely between your soft thighs. His palm feels so warm against your flesh. But that's just J- always giving off heat. He's like your own personal heater. Sometimes warming you to the point you don't even need a blanket because it becomes too hot. Speaking of which, you removed the cover, preferring his signature warmth over the fabric's any day.

Your fingers start to brush lightly on his wrists and knuckles. The subtle touch earns you half smile followed with a pleased hum, which you see in your peripheral vision. He hasn't caught on yet, but your need for him is building fast.

You scooch closer to him in attempt to get his hand where you need it most without him catching on just yet. It didn't work, his hand isn't touching you. It's right there, mere millimeters away. Thinking about how amazing his hands feel when he touches you. When he grants you with friction as he rubs your throbbing clit. The wonderful spots he reaches when he relentlessly fucks you with those paint speckled fingers. Curling them deep, making you writhe and cry beneath him.

Clamping his wrist, your breath hitches at the thought. Shit. That was audible. For a split second, you thought you might have blown it. But Joker took it as something from the film frightening you.

"Quiet doll," he shushes, "you an' I both know the ah, movie ain't scary."

Fuck, you can't take it anymore. You want him to touch you. With a slight roll of your hips, you manage to get his hand to brush against your clothed heat. The smallest bit of friction causes you to release a muffled whimper.

J's arm stiffens and his face instantly snaps to look at you. You seize, halting your movement. No question, he felt what you did, sees the burning desperation in your eyes. Tossing his head back, he erupts in a delighted, high pitched cackle. "Oh-" more cackling laughter as he glances at you again, "so that's what that was." A malicious smirk spreads his scarred cheeks. He firmly grips the inside of your thigh, pulling you against him. "What happened bunny? Growin' needy?" Cupping your clothed mound, his fingers rub you teasingly.

"Yeah," you admit, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Tightening your thighs around his wrist. Would've been no use lying to him when he'd easily seen and felt otherwise.

His rubbing comes to an abrupt stop. He taunts, "Ahh, this was your idea, hm. You were the one keen on a movie night, remember?"

"I know, but-"

"Ah-ta-ta," He cuts you off, "But nothing. This is what ya wanted, so that's what we'll do. We'll ah, sit here and watch."

Suddenly, he lifts you, effortlessly moving you into his lap. You yelp as your back is pressed flush against his torso. He separates your legs apart, you can feel his cock beginning to harden under you, pushing into the plush of your ass. One hand wraps around your chest, to roughly knead your breasts. The other slides under the shirt, gliding over your abdomen, down between your legs. To rub harsh circles on your excited clit through the thinly soaked fabric of your underwear.

"Ahh- fuck!" You whine, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder, reaching around to grip his green locks.

J starts to kiss and nip his way down your neck. Leaving dark patches into your skin, accompanied by red and white splotches- completely marking you. Once he was satisfied with his marks, he leans closely by your ear. "You're dripping, doll," he whispers huskily, his hot breath brushing against your neck. "Now, you will sit here and watch the flick like a good girl, while I play with this needy little cunt of yours. No fussin' or fightin'. Got it?"

"Mhm, yes sir," you answer. Biting back the urge to smile at the thought of finally getting what you want. Fighting it off because, let's be real here, you know with J, it never comes along that easy. But he always makes it damn well worth it.

"Good, now sit still." He growls lowly onto your neck. With that, he pushed your panties to the side and began his torture. His fingers transitioning from fucking your aching hole to rubbing the drenched digits on your throbbing clit. Whispering twistingly sweet and dirty words into your ear while he slathers your own arousal all over your pussy.

He'd bring you close, on the verge of your orgasm, only to stop his movements entirely. Tearing it away from you before you could fall over that edge into pure ecstasy. You grew more and more frustrated each time he'd do that. Though you haven't fully, but you're rapidly losing your composure. Which already may be broken. Sweat is forming on your hairline, tears are prickling your eyes, your breath is starting to hitch. Starting to want it so bad you're teetering towards retaliating to get what you crave.

Joker's counting on it. He thrives on edging you, demands the control over you. As much as he prefers having you entirely at his mercy, he likes it when you lash back. Finds it rather amusing, makes for something a little bit more interesting. See how far you'll go before you snap so beautifully.

And that's now.

You start to buck your hips against his fingers that are going in and out of your pussy, along with his thumb assaulting your clit. Feeling that powerful knot reforming, you need to orgasm. "Oh f-fuck! Please!" You start pleading, "I-I can't take it anymore. Please J, l-let me cum!"

"You wanna cum?" He hints, removing his chin from your neck.

"Yes, God- yes please!" You cry out, clawing your nails into his thighs. Clamping down to gain better leverage. The wild rolling of your hips gets your ass brushing more against his hardened cock. Your arousal had already soaked through his pants a long time ago.

"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth, digging his fingers hard into your hip that's sure to leave an array of dotted bruises. He bucks absently into you, licking a wet, hot trail up your neck. "Mm, dirty girl. So you wanna play that game-ah?"

He moves his fingers faster and harder. Even over the loud volume from the television could the wet squelching sounds deriving from his ministrations be heard. The air filled with the scent of sex- your sex. So desperate and ready to let go and orgasm. It's driving you crazy.

"P-please- Ahh! Can I cum?" You plead. Hoping he'll reward you at least for asking.

"You can cum. Go on, babygirl. Cum on my fingers." He finally grants, fingers continuing to get you to ecstasy.

Well you didn't have to be told twice.

You release with a broken cry, orgasm gushing out onto his digits. Drenching the fabric of his pants beneath you. Your body spasming madly over his own while you ride out your high.

Coming down, J removed his hand from your pussy. His fingers are glistening, coated in your cum. He sticks them into your mouth. "Clean my fingers of the mess you made," he growls the command in your ear. Groaning in approval when you comply. Eagerly licking and sucking his digits clean of your juices. "Come here," he grabs your face, turning your head, making you look at him. "Give me a taste."

He kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to savor the taste of your delectable juices. You kiss him back feverishly. One hand fisting in his hair, the other goes to stroke his cock. Still clothed, still hard. The action causing him to snarl against your lips, "such a greedy little thing. Always ah, wanting more. Ya just can't get enough of me, huh?"

"Never," you huff with a grin, "and telling by this-" you rub him again, "neither could you." His eyes snap to glare into yours viciously. Ohh, he's gonna make you pay for that snarky remark.

With hasty movements, J turns you around so that you're now facing him. Straddling his lap. He tears the shirt that adorned your body open, buttons flying to scatter the couch and floor. Someone's gonna have to sew those back on later, most likely you. He removes the shirt from you, carelessly tossing it aside.

With the large article gone, it granted him with a better view of the mess you made on his custom, pricey slacks. His entire crotch and thigh area is completely drenched in your juices. He gave a sigh which tried to make him sound annoyed or displeased. However, with the straining bulge pushing against you below, you know that was far from the case. His eyes traveled to land on your barley covered pussy, he groaned at the sight. The flimsy fabric of your thong sticking to one of your wonderful, wet lips. Your orgasm, still dribbling out your cunt.

He hooked a finger under the thin strap hugging your hip, pulling far enough only to have it fall and snap against you. Chuckling at your slightly startled reaction. "Bad girl. Misbehaving, talking back, making a mess of my pants? These aren't exactly 'buy at the store' ready. Maybe I should put your dirty mouth to use and have you suck your own juices up, hm?"

"I misbehaved?" You mock a pout, fully knowing what you did. Regardless, asking anyway.

His kneads the plush of your ass roughly. The callousness of his hands making you shiver in his grasp. You may think this position is in your favor, that you could use it to your advantage. But Joker's got you right where he wants you. The stern look in his blackened eyes and the firm hold he's got on you make that known. "You ah- were supposed to make it through the film without so much as a fuss. Remember that?"

"I was?" Your fingers ghost up his chest, "I don't remember that part." Now you're pushing it. He notices the smile threatening to creep your face. One of his hands shoots up to grasp a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your marked neck.

"Yes," he acknowledges slowly trailing his lips up your throat, "yes you do. You just chose to be a brat and not listen." His tone is dangerous, and it would've been absolutely frightening had you been anyone else instead of the only person he cares about in his life. Even though he'd never verbally admit that, frustrating as it is for him, he does care. He does. Which is why whenever you feel that tingle dubbed as fear creep up your spine, you still hold assurance. The flesh of his scars brush the underside of your chin, making you moan unabashedly. "Ya know I gotta punish you for that."

J uses his hold on your hair and hip to guide you to lay over his lap, your naked stomach pressed against his wet thighs, and most of all, his erection. He reaches over to the small table beside the couch, plucking an item you assume to be one of his signature knives. The distinct clicking sound indicates you were correct. It's a switchblade.

He drags the razor sharp blade along your spine until it reaches your underwear, almost on the verge of slicing into you. The thrill gets your heart pounding faster in your chest and ears. You love it when he cuts you, and he's aware of that. But this is a punishment, so you won't be getting what you want.. least not yet. Placing it under the strap, he tears the article to shreds, carelessly nicking you a few times in the process. Alright, so the little nicks he can't control. Those just come naturally. Tossing the ruined fabric aside, he palms your ass cheeks, favoring a spot to start spanking. "Count. We'll ah, stop when I decide you've had enough."

His palm came down hard against your ass, sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body causing you to yelp. "One!" You count. The stinging grew worse with each spank. He hit you hard, but it wasn't anything you couldn't bare. Warm tears steamed down your reddened cheeks. It hurt in a wonderful way, your pussy leaking more arousal as it progressed. He continued to spank you until he grew bored of hearing the same cries and whines.

"Last one bunny," he subtly praised, soothing over the bright marks in your flesh that are starting to welt and bruise. With that, his hand came down a final time. This one stinging the worst.

"Fif- fifteen." You manage to rasp, mind overcome with the lust you had building up. At this point you need him inside you. You need his cock buried deep in your aching core and you need him now. "Please f-fuck me J. I need you!" Your body arched into his as you begged.

J snickered, "need me huh? How bad?" His hand went back to your abused ass to shove you forward, so that your pelvis was atop his as he purposely rolled his erection against your painfully heated sex. The friction drawing a long, strained moan from your lips which pleased him. "Tell me bunny. How, how bad do ya need my cock?"

"Bad- oh so fucking bad- I need your cock! P-Please J, please daddy, fuck me!" You practically shout, resorting to the word daddy. A word which you hardly use, but do when need be. And now was a time of great need.

A snarl left his lips as he yanks you off briefly to undo his pants and shove them down. His cock finally free from the uncomfortable confines, he sighs with relief as he takes it into his hand, pumping a few times. The tip, red and angry with his precum beading out. "Get over here now," he growls impatiently.

Wasting no time, you swing your leg over both of his, reclaiming your previous place of straddling him. You grabbed-rather pawed- his shoulders for leverage. His thick head lines up with your dripping entrance, then he pulls you down, driving his length inside with a powerful thrust. Knocking the wind from you as he filled you. Fuck, how he stretched you so good.

After a brief second for you both to adjust- you to his size and him to recompose himself- he instructs you to- "Move."

To which you do. Rapidly bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. Unashamed at the loud moans and whimpers continuously leaving your lips. This was exactly what you needed, and having been denied lots tonight it felt amazing to finally have this. You moved like your life depended on it.

J grunted as he met your thrusts with his languid ones, his hands guiding the movement of your hips. He held back from pounding into you, oh how he's going to pound into you, just not yet. Which means he's definitely in the mood to tease you to an extent, in any and every way that he can. What an asshole.. Your asshole.

Your arms went to wrap around him. To your surprise, he didn't shove them off. Instead, his chin went to rest in the crook of your neck, catching glimpse of the illuminated TV screen. The movie was still on.

"Mhm, you're just a horny little slut, aren't ya?" He sneered. "Can't even get through a movie without having my cock inside of ya."

There was no way you could give him a proper response. So wrapped were you in the exhilarating feeling of him that any words to a sentence you tried to form wouldn't come out. What did manage to slip out was muddled babbling. He snickered at your incoherence.

The female protagonist on the screen started to scream. The shrieking noise caught both your attention, though your actions didn't falter. "This woman's a terrible actor," J criticized the lady, "her scream is so fake, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes- ah," you return finding your voice, "It s-sure is."

He removed one hand from your hip, gliding it up the valley between your breasts to grip your neck. Glaring menacingly into your eyes momentarily before muttering, "I think you could give me a better one." You knew from his low tone that something malicious just popped into his head. His fingers tightened, "Let's see if you could scream louder than the girl on the screen. Can ya do that for me sweets?"

You nodded feverishly within his hold, "yes J."

Satisfied with the answer, he began driving his cock vigorously up into you. The harsh slapping of skin heard as his hips pound mercilessly against your own. The spontaneous change of pace left you almost completely breathless. Your orgasm was fast approaching. Eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you relentlessly. You screamed, "Oh fuck!"

Your beautiful screams rang harmoniously in his ears like a favored tune. That he could play on repeat over and over and never grow tired of hearing. Your screams and moans are definitely his favorite sounds, aside from explosions and gunfire. He can't help but want more. Crave more.

"Come on doll, get louder," he teases, "I know ya could do better than that." He went to tug your head to the side, exposing the junction between your neck and shoulder. Sinking his yellowed teeth in, biting down hard to draw blood. That was just the push you needed. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench tightly around his length, releasing a shattering scream as you cum violently around his cock.

J lapped the fresh blood from where he bit you. "Hm, that's it," he groaned, "now that's a real scream." He kept going, his pace never letting up. In fact, soon as your hands went to tug at his hair did his thrusts speed up.

You yank his head from your neck to look into his intoxicating eyes, moving to glance towards your blood on his lips. Crashing them with yours to taste that savory metallic flavor for yourself. You take his bottom lip between your teeth and bite down harshly, earning a rumbling groan from him.

He's getting closer and closer to his own peak as you're nearing another. When you feel his thumb move to rub rigorous circles on your sensitive clit, you release his lip with a sharp cry. "J!"

Your walls clamping painfully tight around his throbbing dick, vision blurring as you cum. Nails digging into his broad chest, probably creating tiny bruises under the shirt.

He relishes in the pinch of pain you give him. Combined together with your sinful noises, the sight of your face contorted in ecstasy, and the feeling of your tight warm walls. With that, he buries himself in you and cums hard. A moan mixed with a groan like noise slipping from his lips while he shoots his hot load into your cervix. So much, that some leaks out while you milk him of every last drop.

J collects his breath before lifting your weight up to slip out of you. Your pussy lips are so swollen that his cum isn't even able to drip down once he's out. He sets you onto the couch beside him, getting up to go into the restroom to clean himself and grab a damp rag to bring back to you.

As you regain yourself, you manage to sit a little more up on the couch. Wincing, trying not to sit up all the way due to the soreness already starting to form between your legs. You wrap the blanket around your naked form and silently contemplate. The sex was amazing sure, but you still felt bad for ruining movie night with a terrible movie.

The sound of J coming back in hadn't even registered with you until he waved his hand in your view, tearing you from your thoughts. You blink quickly, offering him a smile to hide it. But J had already seen the small frown when he walked back. And he wanted to know the reason behind it, since it was out of the ordinary. Usually you're always smiling in your post orgasmic state.

"What's carving a frown in ya, pumpkin?" He asks, a hint of concern in his tone as he hands you the small towel. The strange nickname causes you to giggle and he eases knowing you're alright.

"It's nothing J," you say shyly, "I'm just.. I'm sorry the movie sucked. I promise I'll pick a better one next time."

He hums, saying nothing else as he sits back down beside you. Draping his arm behind the couch behind you. Blankly watching the last of the movies end credits while you clean yourself with the rag.

You start to laugh again, "Well, now I really wanna carve a pumpkin. This place could use a couple. How about tomorrow I get some for us to carve?"

He grins sinisterly, "ya know, I'm usually carving into people."

"Pumpkins are less messy. Like, way less." You playfully respond.

"I like messy," he huffs.

"Yeah I know you do." You smile knowingly at him, lightly tracing the hexagonal patterns on his shirt. "I thought it would be fun. You don't have to if you don't want to."

J licks his scars as he ponders on it. Any activity having to do with a carving into something with a knife, count him in. "Ah, what the hell. Alright. What better way then to uh, help me spruce up on my slicing skills." He traces his hand out in front of him, as if he were carving a smile into something. This action causes you to release a genuine laugh. And in that moment, J relishes in hearing yet another one of his favorite sounds~

Woah, so that's the end! I hope you guys liked it. Again, sorry that it was so long. I can't help but make these super lengthy when it comes to smut😭

[donnerpartyofone]

I have no desire to get into any type of discourse about pornography here, and so I won't, except that I'm starting to see this curious fallacy getting kicked around that positions romance novels as the opposite of porn: female-friendly, gentle, and emotionally focused. The point seems to be that women get made fun of for enjoying erotic media that's essentially comforting and aspirational, where the dominant mode--pornography--is, in various ways, rape-centric. This is really funny to me because my admittedly-limited experience with romance novels is NOT that they're all so pure of heart. Actually I thought part of the cliche about "bodice rippers" is that they're not infrequently violent and typically explicit; that the standard feature is the INCLUSION of idealized love to help justify a lot of pornographic indulgences. At my last job we often handled contemporary Harlequin romance novels, and even when there's nothing really graphic on the page, there are a lot of consistent frowned-upon fetish themes--"shieks," "spaniards," and other ethnic identities are frequently exoticized plot elements; ambiguous references to prostitution or slavery abound, ala Bought Bride for the Argentinian or Bought for the Billionaire's Revenge (?!); there were plenty of seduction stories that involve tyrannical employers or kidnappers who somehow terrorize the heroine into falling in love. And if I'm being honest, my first point of reference is this book one of us must have stolen from her mom, that all of my junior high girlfriends read with horrified fascination: Skye O'Malley, part of a popular series by successful romance author Bertrice Small. This sweeping period drama revolved around a woman who essentially gets kidnapped and raped all over the goddamn world before finally being united with her one true love or whatever; different erotic permutations are explored so thoroughly and relentlessly that we eventually wind up in a violent orgy scene involving a 12 year old girl and a bull mastiff. I brought this thing to college too, and enjoyed using it to shock the hell out of my most jaded roommate. But anyway I'm not saying that ALL romance novels are like this, I just have reason to believe that a lot of them have, historically, probed some of the same themes of dominance, submission, and various taboos that porn stands accused of. The only reliable difference between the two genres of production is that one is photographic, necessarily involving the participation of other people--coerced or otherwise, you can't always know for sure. Romance novels, on the other hand, are free to explore whatever boundaries they want--and they often do--within the safety of it all being totally imaginary. And some might object to that too, on the grounds that it somehow encourages the normalization of real misery. But anyway, I don't think it's fair to accuse romance novels of being some sort of bastion of positivity, nor to suggest that their readers only want to be coddled.

(Thanks to this *m*z*n reviewer for the summary and context)

[maybeimamuppet]

catch you when you fall

happy wednesday friends! quick tw for broken bones (nothing graphic) and a mention of animal death (once again nothing graphic)

---------

Cady hates the sound of her ringtone.

Not the sound itself, but the meaning behind it. Other than her parents, nobody calls her with any sort of regularity. Janis gets anxious making phone calls, Damian doesn’t have time, and all her other friends just prefer to text.

Which is why her heart nearly drops out of her chest when her phone starts ringing in the middle of a lecture. Luckily, it’s with her favorite professor, who just waves her off and continues as she excuses herself to answer it in the hallway.

She grimaces when she sees it’s from Damian, he knows she’s supposed to be in class and that she has a huge test next week. She needs to be in this lecture. But, if Damian is calling it must be something serious.

“Dame, I’m in the middle of a lecture, what is it?” She asks frantically.

“I know, Cads, I’m sorry, but...uh...” Damian trails off.

“Damian, please, I can only be out here for a few minutes,” Cady begs.

“Janisbrokeherarm.”

“She what? What the hell happened?! Wait, where are you? I’m on my way,” Cady asks rapidly, running back to her seat in the classroom to grab her bag before barreling out the door. She’ll explain to her professor later.

“We’re at the hospital, hold on,” Damian replies. Cady gets a text with directions to the correct one. “She came to visit me at work today, so I was showing her around, and she fell into the pit. It’s not far, but she landed weird and broke both bones in her forearm.”

“Poor thing. Can I talk to her?” Cady asks, wanting to hear her wife’s voice.

“She’s... kind of unconscious. She was freaking out about being in the hospital and in a lot of pain so they sedated her,” Damian says nervously.

“I thought she got over her thing about hospitals,” Cady mutters. “My poor darling. How are you doing, though?”

“I’m fine. I just... really don’t like broken bones. And hers were very broken,” Damian says.

“Oh, Damian, I’m sorry. I forgot you had that phobia,” Cady says worriedly. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“We’ve been taking care of each other for twenty years, I’m not about to stop now. But you should hurry, the doctor just said she’ll be up soon,” Damian replies, already sounding a bit better. “They said she’ll be pretty out of it, but she’ll want to see you.”

“I’m almost there,” Cady says. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. Love you,” Damian says before they hang up.

“Love you too, D.”

-

Once she finally arrives, Cady rushes up to the front desk with her ID already out. She signs in quickly before an intern leads her up to a small room.

Cady knocks on the door gently before pushing it open, finding a newly awake and very high Janis being cradled in Damian’s embrace. Cady sits in an uncomfortable chair by the bed, taking Janis’ unhurt hand and kissing her knuckles.

“Hi, darling, how are you feeling?” Cady asks gently.

“M’ arms tickle. ‘N this one doesn’ work,” Janis mumbles in reply, showing off her right arm with a dashing purple cast that goes almost to her shoulder.

“It will soon, sweetheart, you just have to wear the cast for a while,” Cady says comfortingly.

Janis finally looks at Cady, her eyes going almost comically wide in shock. She looks back and forth between Cady and Damian a few times as if making sure they’re both actually there. “Caddy?”

“Mmhmm. I’m right here,” Cady says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, but I’m here now.”

“You’re pretty. Will you be m’ girlfrien’?” Janis asks, looking to Damian for moral support.

Cady bursts out laughing. “I can’t be your girlfriend-“ she tries to say before getting cut off by a sniffle from Janis.

“Why not?” Janis asks pitifully, followed by a sad sob.

“Oh, darling, don’t cry,” Cady says frantically. “I can’t be your girlfriend because I’m already your wife, my love.”

“Really?” Janis asks with a sad sniffle.

“Mmhmm. See, your wedding ring is here,” Cady answers, lifting Janis’ left hand and pointing to her finger. “And mine is here.”

“Whoa. M’ wife. That’s so cool,” Janis says, totally starstruck by her wife. She reaches for Cady to hold her then, finally freeing poor Damian.

He stands and stretches, apparently having been there for a while longer than Cady had originally thought. “Janjan, are you hungry? I’m gonna see what they have in the cafeteria.”

“Wan’ nuggets,” Janis mumbles sleepily before he even finishes speaking.

“How many nuggets, darling?” Cady asks, cuddling her closer.

“All.” Janis insists. Damian blinks at her for a second before seeming to accept it.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Janis goes quiet for several minutes, seemingly content to just be held. Alas, it can’t last, and she pipes up again.

“Caddy?”

“Yes, Jellybean?” Cady replies.

“D’we have a dog?”

“No, we don’t, unfortunately,” Cady says as she tries to hold back a giggle.

“A cat?” Janis asks, getting more confused with every question.

“No cat either, I’m afraid,” Cady says.

“D’we have a baby?”

Cady freezes. She’s been meaning to ask Janis about children, but didn’t know how to bring it up. “No, we don’t have a baby yet, it’s just you and me for now,” She replies, deciding high Janis is probably not the one to discuss that with.

“Wha’ the hell’ve we been up to?” Janis demands. “No doggy, no kitty, no baby. W’ need something.”

Cady chuckles again. “We’ve only been married for a year, darling. Maybe we’ll talk about a cat once you’re less loopy.”

“Mmkay,” Janis hums, seeming content with that and nuzzling into Cady’s chest. Cady taps her awake when she realizes she’s falling asleep again.

“Don’t go to sleep, dearest, Damian will be back with your food soon,” she says as she drums her fingers on Janis’ cheeks gently.

“Mmh. Sleepy,” Janis whines.

Cady chuckles. “I know, Jellybean. But you need to stay awake so you can eat. You can nap when we get home, I promise. Look, Damian’s already back.”

“Hi, Dame,” Janis says with a bit more energy as he pulls around a table and rests her tray of food on it.

“Hi, Jan,” he chuckles in reply. “Here you go. They could only give me ten nuggets, I’m sorry.”

Janis glares at him as she tries to pick up her fork and grumbles under her breath about leaving a terrible review on Yelp. She blinks oddly at her hand when she can’t use it, wiggling her fingers as if she’s only just remembering she can control them.

“Caddy. M’ arm’s purple. Why’s it not workin’?” She demands, trying to grab her fork again.

“It’s broken, darling, that’s your cast. Use this hand,” Cady says gently as she taps Janis’ left hand.

“Oh.” Janis says. “I like purple.”

“That’s why we picked it, Janjan,” Damian says as he tries to hold back laughter. “Eat your food, you get discharged soon.”

Janis tries to eat again with her left hand, giving a quiet maniacal cackle when it actually works.

The doctor comes in with her discharge papers as Janis is munching happily on her fourth chicken nugget, explaining the proper care of her arm and cast to Cady upon noticing Janis is still fairly loopy. Cady thanks her and signs Janis out, letting Janis finish her food before they head home.

-

Janis falls asleep on the ride back, leaving Cady to haul her up to their apartment and into bed. She decides to email her professor an apology and get caught up on some schoolwork as she lies in bed next to her.

“Caddy? Wh’happent?” Janis asks groggily when she stirs a few hours later. She pauses when she tries to stretch, spying the bright purple cast covering her arm. “Ah, fuck.”

“You fell in the pit at Damian’s theater today, you broke your arm,” Cady answers with a giggle. “Do you remember anything?”

“I remember falling and then my arm hurt like a bitch, but nothing after,” Janis says confusedly.

“They had to sedate you at the hospital, you were hurting a lot and freaking out a bit,” Cady replies. “You were awake by the time I got there though.”

“I was? What did I do?” Janis asks, already dreading the answer.

Cady’s giggling only makes her feel worse. “Well, when you saw me you said I was pretty and asked if I would be your girlfriend.”

“Oh god,” Janis groans.

“And then you cried when I said no, until I told you we’re married,” Cady laughs harder.

“Oh god.”

“It was cute, don’t be embarrassed,” Cady teases, tickling her neck to get her to look back up.

“I’m not cute!” Janis insists.

“Yes you are. Anyway, um... you demanded Damian bring you all the chicken nuggets they had in the cafeteria and said you’d leave them a terrible review on Yelp when he could only give you ten, and then you asked me if we had a dog, and then when I said no you asked if we had a cat, and then when I said no to that too you asked if we had a baby.”

“Really?” Janis chuckles.

“Yeah. Then you got your food, asked me why your arm wasn’t working, and fell asleep on the ride home,” Cady says.

“Huh.” Janis hums. “Wait, baby, you were in class! Shit, I’m sorry-“

“Shh, Bluejay, it’s fine,” Cady hushes her. “My professor understands, and I can get notes later. It’ll be fine. You didn’t mean to fall.”

“That pit was not where it was supposed to be,” Janis grumbles. “Now I can’t straighten my arm.”

“You will soon, love,” Cady says. “Just a few weeks.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t be so fussy, you’ll be fine,” Cady chides. She knows she’s about to make a very abrupt subject change, but can’t hold back the question anymore. “Um... do you... actually want a baby? At some point?”

Janis sighs. “I’m not sure. Definitely not anytime soon, but down the line, I don’t know. I like the idea of it, but I don’t think I would make a very good parent.”

“I get that, but I think you would be great. You’re fun, but you’re also so gentle and sweet. And a fair bit more responsible than you used to be,” Cady replies.

“I fell in a hole in the middle of a stage,” Janis reminds her, holding up her cast.

“It’s a step up from the time you sprained your ankle running from that cow,” Cady says. “But really, I think you’d make a wonderful parent if you wanted to be.”

“I don’t know. I just, like- what if my anxiety acts up, or my depression? What if I can’t take care of them?” Janis asks, cuddling closer into her side.

Cady hums sadly. “Then we’d support you, and I’ll step up a little more until you can. You wouldn’t be doing this alone, Jayjay. And you’ve been doing so well lately, your communication is so much better, and your therapist really seems to be helping. You’ve never let anything stop you before, if we decide to have a child someday you shouldn’t let it stop you then either.”

Janis leans up to kiss her gently. “Thanks, Butterfly. I’ll think about it more.”

“If you want to. We have time,” Cady says gently. “In the meantime... maybe we should see about a cat?”

“Really?” Janis squeals. She’s been begging for a pet for months. Cady had to take her to get a rabies shot when she came home with a raccoon one day. Hopefully a cat will stop her from taking matters into her own hands.

“Sure, why not? It’s almost summer, I’ll have a little bit more free time to help with it,” Cady giggles. “One of my mom’s co-workers does cat rescues on the side, we can pick one when we go home for Julie’s birthday.” Janis practically tackles her to the bed, kissing her cheeks over and over.

“Hey, watch your arm,” Cady scolds gently when Janis nearly whacks it against the headboard. “What should we have for dinner?”

“It’s your turn to pick,” Janis replies confusedly.

“Your forearm is in four pieces, you get to pick tonight,” Cady says.

Janis thinks for a second. She might be able to swing something special because of her injury. She whips out her best puppy eyes to boost her chances too. “Can we make pizzas?”

Cady raises an eyebrow at her. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute, loser. Come on.”

-

“I had to be right handed,” Janis grumbles as she tries to knead the dough with her left.

“Switch with me, Jay, you can do this with one hand,” Cady says from where she’s stirring the sauce over the stove.

Janis pouts. “But I always do this.”

Cady turns the burner off and comes to hug Janis around the waist. “We’ll just have to adapt a little until your arm is better. You only have to have the cast for a little while, we’ll figure it out.”

“Fine,” Janis whines.

“Oh come on,” Cady coaxes as she pulls her into a kiss. “You’ll be fine. We’re having fun!”

Janis tries to fight a grin at Cady’s efforts to cheer her up. She’s just so cute, Janis wants her to keep going. “We are. I love you.”

“There you go. I love you too,” Cady says sweetly as she pops up to kiss her one more time. “Now come on, or we’ll never get to eat.

She slaps Janis’ ass lightly as she turns to the stove, prompting a squeal and a “Hey!”, but Cady just laughs and winks as she finishes the dough.

-

Janis pulls her into a hot mess of a kiss once Cady turns from putting their dinner in the oven and setting a timer.

Cady returns it, checking briefly to make sure Janis has her eyes closed before sneakily reaching to grab a small handful of flour from the bag behind her. She dumps it on Janis’ head right as she pulls back for a breath.

“Oh, you’re in for it now, Peanut,” Janis gasps, arming herself with the bag of cheese as Cady grabs the leftover sauce and flings a spoonful at her. “Hey!”

Cady squeals and ducks behind the counter as Janis chucks a handful of cheese at her, scraping some more sauce onto her spoon and firing another little bit back.

“Missed me,” Janis teases, flinging another handful of cheese. Eventually she runs out and switches to grab the bag of flour, blowing a massive cloud in Cady’s face. Cady splutters, coughing it away before rushing up and dumping her leftover ammo on top of Janis’ head.

“Hey, wait,” Cady begs upon realizing she’s now empty handed. “I don’t have anything to fight with!”

Janis is immune to her plight, raining another handful of flour over her hair and making her look like she’s been through quite a blizzard. “Truce?”

Cady reaches around her to grab some pepperonis, flinging them at Janis like throwing stars. “Never!”

Janis just cackles with laughter and throws more, the two of them continuing until Janis realizes she’s down to her last bit of flour.

“I’m all out, mercy,” she says to fake Cady out. “Come kiss me.” Cady does, and Janis makes sure she’s put her pepperoni down before dumping the last little bit of flour on top of her head.

Cady gasps at the betrayal. “You liar! You tricked me!”

“I win,” Janis smirks.

“Because you cheated! You seduced me into letting you win,” Cady insists. “You little stinker.”

Janis giggles. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

Cady smiles back, kissing Janis again. “I love you too.”

“We made a mess.”

“Yeah, but did you smile?” Cady responds with a cheeky grin.

Janis groans. “Oh my god. Yes, I did, your evil plan worked. But now we have to clean the kitchen.” Cady looks over to check the timer on the oven, they still have a few minutes.

“I’ll vacuum the flour, you get the sauce and stuff. And maybe once we eat we can help clean each other,” she responds with a wink, heading to the hall closet to grab the vacuum. Janis gives a flustered squeak as she grabs a sponge. She really married her perfect woman.

————-

A week or so later, Cady takes Janis to the pet store to shop for cat necessities. She’s lucky that Janis can only use one hand, it gives her less opportunities for mischief. She holds Janis’ working hand and braces herself as they head in.

“Before you ask, no, we are not getting a bird or ferret or bunny or anything but things for our cat,” Cady says just to be safe. “And I will notice if you put a hamster in your pocket.”

“Okay,” Janis pouts, her obvious plans already having been foiled. “Ooh, look, they have little paintbrush catnip toys!”

Cady pulls her back for a second to grab a basket, but does let Janis add the package of toys. “Okay, now we get the stuff we actually need, we can get more toys once we’ve done that.”

Somehow Cady manages to cram a bed, two food dishes, a leash and harness, and several more toys in the basket. Janis holds the carrier they had chosen in her good hand, and Cady has the litter box in her other hand. Janis begs to go look at the birds once they finish, so Cady leads her over and secretly takes a video of Janis dancing with them.

A frankly exhausted looking teenager checks them out, scanning all the jangly toys and other things. Cady had noticed Janis disappeared as she paid for everything, and her jacket pocket is wriggling suspiciously when she returns.

“Put it back,” she demands, not even looking up as she helps the cashier bag all their things. Janis mopes her way back to the dwarf hamsters and puts the little creature back with his friends. “Why do you try that every time? You never get away with it.”

“But one day I might,” Janis replies, taking a couple of bags in her good hand and following Cady out of the store. “You never know.”

“With you, definitely not,” Cady sighs lovingly. “Let’s go get the apartment ready, hm?”

“Race you there,” Janis challenges, running ahead.

“Janis, no, come back! You’re already injured,” Cady calls, but Janis just sticks her tongue out at her and keeps going. “Fine, be that way.”

Cady runs to catch up with her, easily passing her and sticking her own tongue out at Janis.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be faster than me!” Janis whines as she rushes to keep up with her.

“Oh really? Then how was this supposed to be a fair race, hm?” Cady teases as she stops and allows Janis to catch up. “Come on, loser, keep up.”

“Hmph.”

—————

“Janis, no,” Cady demands, grabbing the hangar Janis is trying to stick into her cast.

“But it itches,” Janis whines.

“If you scratch with this you’ll get infected. Tetanus will be worse to deal with than a broken arm,” Cady says. “Come help me finish packing, it’ll take your mind off it.”

“Okay,” Janis pouts. “When do I get it off?”

Cady suddenly remembers Janis had been high when the doctor gave them the care instructions. “You have about a week left, then they’ll check to make sure it’s healed enough. If it’s not, you might need a smaller cast or a brace for a while.”

“Another cast?” Janis groans. “Ugh.”

“I know, lovey. But that would only be for about three weeks. And it’s important if your bones aren’t healthy enough, we don’t want you to injure it more,” Cady comforts. Janis hands her a shirt to fold and put in their suitcase. So far they’re not doing a great job of distracting her, so Cady changes the subject. “Do you have any idea what kind of cat you want?”

“No,” Janis says. “I kind of want a kitten, but I know senior cats have a hard time getting adopted, so I don’t know what age to pick. And I don’t think I want an orange one, I still miss Pancakes too much.”

Pancakes had fallen ill while Janis was in college, and was put down the summer before her senior year. She had luckily gotten to be there with him, comforting him to the end. She has his ashes in a little box on the dresser.

“I understand. He was such a good boy,” Cady says gently. “We’ll decide when we get there, maybe one will be extra special.”

“Maybe,” Janis says as she hands Cady their folded pairs of socks and does a little happy dance. “I’m excited.”

“I can tell,” Cady giggles. “I’m excited too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive any of it? It’s a long trip,” Janis says with concern. They were driving to Illinois instead of flying, so they didn’t have to deal with trying to fly the cat back home.

“My love, you’re a bad enough driver with both hands working, I’m very sure I don’t want you driving with just the one,” Cady chuckles in reply. “I’ll be fine, we have enough places to stop so I can take breaks. And I have you to keep me awake and stop me getting bored.”

“I’m a good driver!” Janis insists. Cady raises a suspicious eyebrow at her. “Most of the time.”

“Tell that to the turkey you ran over,” Cady responds.

“I was nineteen! And it was dark!” Janis says. “And to this day, nobody explained to me why the fresh hell there was a turkey in the middle of the road!”

“That’s fair. At least he survived,” Cady giggles. “But seriously, you’re not driving.”

“Okay,” Janis says. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady says, leaning in for a kiss.

————-

“Jay. Breathe,” Cady coaxes a vibrating Janis. They’re picking their cat today, heading to her mom’s friend’s house.

“Sorry,” Janis says, locking all her muscles so she stops shaking.

“Don’t be sorry,” Cady chuckles. “Come on, we’re here.”

“Hey, ladies! I’m Eleanor, you must be Cady,” a woman greets as they come up to the door.

“I am, hi,” Cady says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Eleanor shakes their hands gently before she leads them inside.

“Jesus Christ,” Janis says as soon as the door is opened. No fewer than forty cats are present, just scattered about doing their thing.

“Yeah, it’s a little jarring to newcomers,” Eleanor chuckles. “Do you have an age range you’re looking for? Our adults are mostly out here, and the kittens are in the room there if you’d like to see them.”

Cady looks to Janis. They both really want a cat, but Janis gets to pick which one due to her injury.

“Can we see the kittens?” Janis asks pensively, looking at the adults scattered around her. They’re cute, but none really jump out at her.

“Absolutely, please watch for tails,” Eleanor says as she leads them down a short hallway. “Our youngest litter aren’t ready to be adopted out yet, but the ones back here are about four months old now, if you’d like one of these.”

Janis squeals quietly when she sees them, trotting around a small pen and playing with various toys.

“You can head in if you like, they’re all very playful,” Eleanor says. Cady and Janis climb over the gate and sit on the ground, waiting to see if any approach them. Janis points to a little black ball of puff in the corner, snoozing quietly on a heating pad.

“Aww,” Cady coos. The kitten wakes to the noise, revealing bright lime green eyes. She comes trotting over, stumbling a couple times on her way. Janis extends a hand for her to sniff, and the kitten brushes against it gently. “Who is this one?”

“Her name is Pillow. We name the kittens random objects so we don’t get too attached,” Eleanor explains. “She’s usually quite shy, but she seems to have taken a liking to you two.”

“Oh, you’re absolutely a witch in disguise,” Janis whispers to the kitten nibbling on her fingertips. “Caddy, look.”

Cady also lets Pillow sniff at her hand, smiling as she apparently decides she’s trustworthy and plops down in her palm.

“Is she the one, Jayjay?” Cady asks, scooping her up to scratch her head. Janis nods and takes the kitten, holding her to her chest. “Can we change her name?”

“Absolutely. It might take her a bit to respond to it, but you’re certainly not stuck with Pillow,” Eleanor responds with a chuckle.

“Pillow isn’t terrible, honestly,” Janis replies. “What should we call her, Cads?”

Cady thinks for a second. “Paka?”

“Which language is that?” Janis asks curiously. It’s cute, but doesn’t really fit the dark little cloud in her hands.

“Swahili,” Cady answers.

“What does it mean?”

“Cat.” Cady mumbles. Janis bursts out laughing. “Don’t make fun of me, I’m not good at naming things!”

“It’s cute, but, uh...” Janis hums.

“I know, it just popped into my head. What do you want her name to be?” Cady asks.

“Something, like, witchy,” Janis says. “Look at her, she’s totally some witch’s familiar.”

Cady chuckles. “She could be. What’s the one from that one Broadway show Damian took us to when I came to New York for the first time? The green one, not the blonde one.”

“Elphaba,” Janis answers, cursing that she knows that. “But I don’t know if I want something that on the nose.” Pillow bites her finger gently. “Yeah, she doesn’t like that. Something close though.”

“What about Elvira? That’s witchy sounding,” Cady responds. “And not Elphaba.”

“That’s perfect,” Janis says happily. “What do you think, kitty? Are you an Elvira?” She meows loudly. “Oh yeah.”

“Perfect! Are you two ready to take her home?” Eleanor asks. “She’s already been spayed and microchipped, we just need to link her chip to your phones and y’all can have her.”

“I think so,” Cady says, chuckling as the kitten tries to nibble on Janis’ nose.

-

A week later, they’re officially back home in their little apartment, with their new kitten getting acclimated. They’re keeping her in the bedroom for now, and would slowly introduce her to the rest of the apartment soon.

Cady wakes up to something sort of rumbling on her face, and there’s a strange warmth over her forehead. She’s confused until she reaches a hand up and feels Elvira resting over her eyes.

It’s kind of nice, and Elvira is purring happily, so she leaves her there. Janis gradually stirs next to her, Cady can hear her stretching and giving a yawn. “Good morning, Cadd-what the fuck?”

Janis scoops the kitten off her forehead in a fit of giggles, then bends down to kiss Cady good morning.

“She was warm, it was like a nice little blindfold,” Cady says in response to Janis’ laughter. “Are you ready?”

“For what?” Janis asks with another yawn as she stops laughing.

“To have your cast off,” Cady giggles in reply. “Your appointment is today.”

“Oh yeah,” Janis says. “When?”

Cady looks to check the clock. “We have about an hour until your appointment.”

Janis pouts. No cuddle time. “Okay.”

“I’ll cuddle you after,” Cady compromises, knowing why she was upset. “Let’s go get dressed.”

-

Janis looks around anxiously as they enter the hospital again. She’s been scared of them since her father passed away, and her fear was exasperated when her aunt passed away of cancer when she was a bit older.

Cady squeezes her hand to comfort her as she signs Janis in and they’re led back to a room. Janis squeaks in fright when she spies the small saw they’re about to take to her arm.

“Jay, it’s okay, the saw doesn’t hurt,” Cady comforts.

“It’s a fucking saw!” Janis insists, sitting as far away from it as she can.

“It’s just to break the shell of the cast, it shuts off when it hits your skin,” Cady says gently as she brushes her hair from her face. “It just tickles.”

“How do you know?”

“I broke my leg when I was twelve, I had to be transported to a hospital in Nairobi so I could get treatment,” Cady says. “They did the same things to me. You’ll be fine.”

“You broke your leg?” Janis asks with a giggle. “How did you manage that?”

Cady starts laughing. “I was running after a bird, and was looking up at it instead of the ground. I tripped over a rock and fell into a hole.”

Janis thinks that’s about the most on-brand way Cady could’ve possibly gotten an injury as a child. “I can totally see that.”

“Right? I was such a stupid kid,” Cady chuckles.

The doctor comes in then, making small talk as she prepares everything. Cady holds Janis’ hand as the cast is removed, laughing as her eyes go wide at the buzzing sensation.

“Oh,” she mumbles when it’s off.

“I told you, it’s not bad,” Cady chuckles. “Go get your x-rays, loser.”

Janis follows after the doctor to get new scans taken of her arm, leaving Cady with the nurse. “Do you think she’ll want to keep the cast?”

“Probably not, but I do,” Cady says. “Remember how clumsy she can be.”

“Fair enough,” the nurse laughs, wrapping it up for Cady to take home. Janis comes back into the room after a few minutes with a pout.

“They’re not healed enough, I have to get another one,” she grumbles.

“Aww, I’m sorry mpenzi. But now your students will have something else to sign,” Cady says, desperately trying to find a positive.

Janis gives her a weak grin. “You’re so cute. I’m not that upset, this one only goes to my elbow. I’m just not looking forward to three more weeks of itchy arm.”

Cady nods. “I’ll be here to distract you.”

Janis knew she married Cady for a reason.

————-

“Caddy?” Janis calls about a week later from their bedroom.

“Yeah?” Cady calls back.

“Do we have any white spray paint?”

Cady runs into the bedroom, making Elvira jump in fright and scramble away. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing! Promise,” Janis says, raising her hands in surrender.

Cady looks at her suspiciously. “Then why did you ask if we have white spray paint?”

“I want to cover the color of my cast. Spray paint would do that the quickest,” Janis mumbles.

“Oh. Why do you want to cover it up? It doesn’t look bad,” Cady asks.

“No reason. Can I pleeeeeease go buy some?” Janis begs.

“If it’s that important to you, yeah, of course,” Cady says. “But only that. And no graffiti.”

“I’m not twenty anymore, I’m responsible,” Janis insists. Cady raises her eyebrow again. “I’m working on it.”

“I’m kidding. Go buy your paint, Picasso,” Cady says, kissing her and pushing her towards the door.

-

Janis comes back with her spray paint and a Kit-Kat bar for Cady.

“Hi, lovey,” Cady says from the kitchen. “I made dinner.”

“Ooh, spaghetti,” Janis says happily. “Thanks, babe.”

“You’re welcome,” Cady says, greeting her with a kiss. “Did you get your stuff?”

“Yeah. Got you a candy too,” Janis says, handing the bar over.

“Aww. You haven’t called me Kitkat in a while,” Cady coos as she takes the candy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Kitkat. Now come on, I’m

hungry.”

-

Once they finish their delicious dinner, Janis changes clothes, dons a protective mask, and heads to the balcony to work on her cast. Cady sits just inside to watch her through the door with their kitten on her lap. It’s a simple process, but Cady likes to watch Janis do any kind of art.

Janis wags her arm around for a few minutes after spraying the whole thing in layers, making the whole thing totally white. You can’t even tell it was purple underneath by the time she finishes.

Once it’s dry, she heads back inside and puts everything away. Cady is confused when she comes back with her paint supplies. Every shade of paint, every brush. But no canvas.

“What are you gonna do now?” She asks confusedly. Janis lies on the couch and sticks her arm out, gesturing for Cady to come sit next to her on the ground.

“I,” she says as she flops down. “Am going to watch you paint my cast.”

“Me?” Cady asks, pointing to herself. “But I can’t paint.”

“Of course you can paint, you just do it differently than I do,” Janis says, gesturing for her again. “You have free reign, do whatever you want.”

“Okay,” Cady says anxiously as she sits down and grabs a brush. “Are you sure?”

“Peanut, it’s a cast, you’re not giving me a tattoo,” Janis giggles. “I want to see what you’ll do, and if I don’t like it I get this off in two weeks. I always like what you make anyway.”

Cady is comforted by this reminder. The last time she had tried to paint she’d only succeeded in making a blotchy mess of the picture frame she had been trying to decorate for Janis’ birthday. Janis loved and used it anyway.

She decides to start with the only thing she knows how to paint pretty well, a lion. She paints a little yellow circle on the inside of her wrist, surrounding it with orange and red stripes like a mane and adding a cute cartoon face in black.

Janis makes conversation and cuddles with Elvira as she works, not even looking at what she’s doing. Cady doesn’t really have a cohesive idea, so she makes little doodles all around like she’s decorating a whiteboard.

By the time she’s finished Janis has been thoroughly decorated with the lion, a rainbow near the bend of her elbow, a rough picture of Elvira, a cursive ‘I love you’ written so Janis can read it whenever she looks at the inside of her arm, a butterfly, several hearts, and a hot dog. All with room left in between for signatures.

“Okay, I’m done but don’t look yet,” Cady says as she runs off.

“Okay,” Janis says in confusion. Cady suddenly comes back from the kitchen brandishing a Sharpie, signing a ‘Caddy’ with a heart next to the cursive message she had painted. “Can I see now?”

“Yeah,” Cady says, biting her lip anxiously. Janis lifts her arm to look, smiling happily at what she sees.

“Cute,” Janis says with a grin. “You did good, Butterfly. I like it.”

Cady gives a quiet sigh of relief. “Good.”

“Come snuggle us,” Janis says, reaching for her and scooting Elvira over to make room. Cady crawls on top of her with a chuckle. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

—————

Two weeks later, Janis’ arm is finally freed for good and she’s given a warning to watch where she’s walking. She elects to take this cast home, wanting to keep Cady’s artwork.

Cady had told all their friends that Janis was finally getting her last cast off today, so they all decided to get together for a celebratory dinner.

Janis does a little happy dance as she leaves the hospital for what’s hopefully the last time in a long time, making Cady laugh.

“You’re free, Jay, your hand is back!” She calls.

“Yeah! And now I can do this again,” Janis says, running towards her and picking her up. Cady shrieks in surprise, but laughs happily and clings to her as Janis carries her to the car.

“Just don’t strain yourself, you should still be doing exercises and stuff to get your muscles back to where they were,” she says carefully, not wanting her wife to immediately re-injure herself.

“I’m fine, Cads, you’re still tiny. And I’m still buff,” Janis breathes as she sets her down.

“You are. Holding me in your big, strong arms,” Cady flirts as she leans up for a kiss. “Never gets old. But I do wish you’d warn me first.”

“That takes the fun out of it,” Janis teases as she lifts and spins her again. Cady squeals happily. “I love you. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“You took care of yourself just fine, but you’re welcome, love,” Cady replies. “I love you too.”

Maybe I can’t always catch you when you fall, but I’ll always help with the aftermath.

---------

hope you enjoyed!

quick note about requests: they are still open, but I've scheduled all of my works in progress and they go until the middle of July, so it will be that long before your request gets published. if you've left one before today, I am working on it and it will be out soon.

ALSO! urgent message, I have so far received one request on Tumblr in my asks. unfortunately, I wasn't aware it would disappear when I answered it. so, whoever left that: please leave it again so I can get your name to give you credit when its posted!

thanks for reading, have a lovely day!

lots of love,

ezzy