#master yow

[i-restuff]

yow! Here's the Official in-depth look at all the turtles by Nickelodeon themselves.

more descriptions below ;

Leo

Leo is your classic oldest sibling. He’s a little bit bossy, but he firmly believes he has everyone’s best interest at heart! As the oldest, Leo considers himself the leader of the brothers. He loves his family more than anything, and is willing to go to great lengths to protect them. Leo is deeply devoted to Splinter’s teachings, and encourages his brothers to follow all of Splinter’s rules to a T. Leo can be a bit more serious than the rest of his brothers, which sometimes (believe it or not) annoys Raph, Mikey and Donnie. But at the end of the day, he loves to joke around with the crew too - especially if they don’t break any rules in the process!

When Leo meets April O’Neil, things change in a big way. Before meeting April, Leo was content to live in the shadows and stick to the rules that Splinter laid out for him and his brothers, the most important being avoiding humans at all costs. But after meeting April, Leo is willing to bend those rules - especially if it means spending more time with her.

FAST FACTS ABOUT LEO:

Leo (aka Leonardo) is the oldest of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Leo is played by Nicolas Cantu in the Mutant Mayhem movie.

Leo in Love? Pssst, can you keep a secret?! Leo has a HUGE crush on April O’Neil, the Turtles’ human friend! April is voiced by Ayo Edebiri.

Namesake: Leonardo Davinci! Davinci was a true Renaissance man, and a highly skilled painter, inventor, sculptor, and more. He’s best known for painting the world-famous Mona Lisa.

Weapon of Choice: Katanas. Leo is a highly skilled swordsman!

Ninja Turtle Color: Blue. Each of the brothers have a different color mask, so it’s a great way to tell them apart if you get confused!

Most Likely To: be the brother making the plan! Leo is great at strategy and always thinking ten steps ahead.

Describe Leo in three words: Disciplined, Hardworking, and Respectful.

Raph

Meet Raph, aka Raphael! He’s always ready for a fight, and ALWAYS ready to lay it all on the line for his brothers. Raph never shies away from his enemies, and is definitely an act first, think later kinda Turtle. He’s a bit of a hot head - you could say he’s always seeing red (and not just because of his red eye mask!) Generally speaking, Raph is one tough turtle - but he’s got a soft spot in his shell for his beloved bros.

Raph may be the best fighter of the bunch. He’s got some serious ninja skills, but doesn’t have a whole lot of stealth going on. Raph is also a true master of the sai… let’s just say you wouldn’t want to find yourself in a fight with this guy.

FAST FACTS ABOUT RAPH:

Raph (aka Raphael) is the second oldest of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Raph is played by Brady Noon in the Mutant Mayhem movie.

Namesake: Raph is named after Raphael, a 16th-century Italian painter. Kinda weird fun fact? The painter Raphael had serious Renaissance era beef with the painter Michaelangelo, who Raph’s brother Mikey is named after!

Weapon of Choice: Sai, or special Ninja weapons that are like swords you wear as gloves! He’s also in general, a very good fighter (with or without his Sai).

Ninja Turtle Color: Red! Each brother has their own color mask.

Most Likely To: Act first, think later! Raph is known to be a little bit of a hot-head, and often dives headfirst into action without making a plan. This, believe it or not, drives Leo NUTS!

Describe Raph in three words: Passionate, Tough, Protective.

Donnie

Donatello, aka Donnie, is your classic middle child. He may be younger than Leo and Raph, but everyone knows he’s got the smarts. Donnie is brilliant with a super-sharp wit, and can be a bit sarcastic. He’s a true asset to the Turtle team, thanks to his ability to always see a few steps ahead of everyone else. Leo may be the man with the plan, but Donnie is the man pointing out the holes in the plan - whether or not his brothers want to hear them.

Donnie's weapon of choice is a bo staff, which he can twirl and bash around with serious skill. He’s got a razor-sharp ability to analyze his opponents and know what their next move might be - something that comes in handy in the heat of a big battle!

When Donnie isn’t helping his brothers save the day, he likes to unwind with the finer things in life: video games, anime, and of course, K-Pop!

FAST FACTS ABOUT DONNIE

Donnie (aka Donatello) is the second youngest of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. That makes Leo and Raph his older brothers, and Mikey the youngest.

Don is voiced by Micah Abbey in the Mutant Mayhem movie.

Namesake: Donnie is named after Donatello, a 15th century Italian sculptor best known for his ability to make his sculptures look insanely realistic! Donatello the sculptor is widely regarded as a genius, which fits Donnie well, since he’s sorta the brains of the brotherly operation.

Weapon of Choice: Bo Staff. You do not want to be stuck battling Donnie when he has a staff, hockey stick, giant pencil, or anything else remotely staff shaped.

Ninja Turtle Color: Purple! It compliments his shell, don’t you think?

Most Likely To: Have a favorite K-pop star.

Describe Donatello in three words: Brilliant, Inventive, Awkward.

Mikey

Mikey, aka Michelangelo, is the youngest and by far the funniest of the four brothers (his words, not ours.) Mikey is kinda the wild card of the bunch, and would almost always rather hang out and have a good time than train. He deeply respects Splinter’s teachings and his rules about humans, but Mikey can’t shake the feeling that humans would probably be more accepting of him and his brothers than his father expects.

While Mikey is an absolute legend when it comes to battling with the nunchaku, his true happy place is posting up with a large pizza and a super funny stand-up comedy special, not a ninja brawl. All he really wants to do is make people happy, so if he has to kick some mutant butt with his brothers along the way, so be it!

FAST FACTS ABOUT MIKEY

Mikey (aka Michelangelo) is the youngest brother out of all four Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, aka the baby! But don’t tell him we said that.

Mikey is voiced by Shamon Brown Jr. in the Mutant Mayhem movie.

Ninja Turtle Color: Orange! As in, ORANGE you glad Mikey is here to save the day?

Most Likely To: Order a pizza to battle. What? Like he’s not gonna be hungry after fighting off bad guys and protecting life as we know it?

Namesake: Mikey is named after Michelangelo, one of the most famous Renaissance artists of all time! Michelangelo was a sculptor, painter, architect, and poet known best for iconic works of art like the David, the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling, and more.

Weapon of Choice: Nunchaku and a winning sense of humor.

Describe Mikey in Three Words: Ordering. A. Pizza.

[fandomwriterlover]

When they try to flirt for the first time (Monkey, Mantis and Crane)

Monkey

He saw you for the first time when you were starting working at Mr Ping's Noodle place, and boy... At the very moment he gazed at your bright smile while attending a table he was smitten.

He returned much later as a client. He wanted to talk to you, getting to know you better. He planned to order a bowl od noodles and the add "And a smile with it, please~" Yeah... A good pick-up line to break the ice.

"Hello. What would you like to order?" Oh no, his mind it's blank as the rice! "Yea-- Huh... Huh... Wh-- What do you serve here?" "... Noodles, some dumplings..." "Oh, yes, yes! A bowl of smile-- I MEAN -- M-Mile. Yes... huh" "A Mile of Noodles?" He do not dare to speak now... So ackward. "I'm gonna ask Mr Ping if it's in the menu." And you left.

He banged his head againts the table. What was that?! Now they would belive he's weird. The Master Monkey weird!! This is worse than having his brother getting all the girls in his teens. Or ever worse that the Love Letter prank that certain panda made on him. (Po: I said I was sorry!!)

Before he could recover, you were coming back. "There's no such a thing of a Mile of Noodles..." Monkey wanted to disappear so badly. "... but I think he's going to try to make it happen in the future." You said in a funny tone; just for that he gazed at you. "If you're still unsure, I would recomend you the noodle soup with radish and tofu." "huh... Well, that does sounds good." He's doing it. He's talking normal. "One Noddles soup with radish and tofu coming right up."

Mantis

He told himself that he was DONE with romance! No more Miss 'I'm a butterfly now', no more Hao... No more lovey dovey feelings! ... But then you entered at the Jade Palace as a servant, right at the front door with the sunset behing you, basking your presense in magnificent golden light. Yep, he's an hypocrite, but also a simp.

For once he's glad he's small, so he can keep a good distance without you noticing so he can admire you from afar... Oh, but he also wants to talk to you; but what could he say and do? Only a fool of himself. Like this time he was training in the patio, lifting some stones a weights...

"... 10...11... *huf*... 12--" He saw you coming to deliver a message to Master Shifu, and you indirectly stared ar his direction. " Twelve--- HUNDRED!!... *huf*" He throw the rock up avobe with great strenth and quickly made a pose. You both meet each other eyes... In a second. The stone landed right in front of Mantis... and over one of his feet. "YOW!!!"

Yow... He screamed 'YOW'?! Now, why didn't hold the scream like a man or screamed with a deeper tone or with a 'OUCH'?! Man, that was so lame. He was making a 'Po' of himself. (Po: Hey! Why Am I a expression?)

Mantis begged to not see you soon after today... But when he entered the kitchen to eat something THERE you are--- With a pained look? "Hey, are you ok?" "Oh, Master Mantis--" you wanted to bow with respect at the insect, but the monent you flexed your left wrist you hissed with pain. "--- Huh, I just got an accident, but I'm ok..." The green master quickly took a look at it. "That look sprained... Let me see it." You asured him that it was nothing but he insited. You showed the hand and the wrist, he carefully moved the hand with his 'hand thingies' with care. "I think I can fix it. May I?" You nooded. "Ok, let's get to the point." he try to joke, he did mange to get you a small smile. Aaaand... he 'ponited'. "YOW!" ... You both couldn't help to laugh

Crane

He didn't planned this to happen. He just was dragged by Po to see the Dancing and Music Festival of the Valley, and maybe eat something; he's with Po, so food it's mandatory... But then he saw you dancing. So gracefull and playfull... It was like his mind erased everyone and everything around the place, and you where the center of the universe... He did NOT planned to be so into you at all.

At the third time he came to see the festival, Po found out that Crane was coming just to see you. (Po: I'm in this story? Sweet!) And as a good friend, he was happy that Crane was in love with you!! And, yes, he would help him out to talk to you. Crane REALLY don't think it's a good idea... But again, he has no courage to even speak at your direction... You're so god-like in his eyes, and he was so nervous.

"Ok, now that they are resting, try to compliment them. Just say that you loved their dancing." The panda walked with the avian toward your resting spot. "Ok, huh... Your dance was great... Like that?" "Yes! Super easy. There they are, go on." Po gently puched him on your direction. He walked a few steps close to you, and you noticied his presense. "Oh, hi. Can I help you?" The poor tall bird stared at you umoved, at the third mississippi he... stturtered. "You--y--you heh... You dance good?"... Ackward... "I think I do?"

Po the rescue! "Hey there! I'm Po, Dragon Warrior, and this is Master Crane. He just wanted to tell you that your dancing back there was awesome." Thank godness he came, Crane was dying from the inside of embarrasment. You got up politly. "Why, thank you." "And..." Oh no, Crane knew that look of his eyes, the look of 'Po's having a bad idea' face! "... my friend here would like to know a few dance moves. Maybe you could..." "Po..." "Oh sure!" What? You said yes?!

Poor Crane was a sweating wreck. He was watching and placing his steps at the same tempo as you, while his panda 'possible' ex friend was watching from the distance giving him thumps up... Trying to not mess up the dance rutine. "Step and step... You are doing it great." "Huh, really?" he, managed to say. Looking at Po, encourage him to keep talking. "I-- I think I'm better at kung fu than dancing... i'm not-- Gracefull at all." Suddely, you tripped... Crane's fast move prevented you from hit the ground, gragging with his wings at your waist. Now you were face-to-face. You smiled. "Well, that was a gracefull catch." Crane let go a small giggled as he helped you to stand on your feet. Maybe it was a rush of the contact, or because of his friend quiet scream of the sutuation, but he gained enough confidence to ask you. "Maybe, you could teach me more some other day?"

[totally-not-here-for-the-smut]

SO this bad post went out on its own (not: it's my falut, I'm a dork) without a text! Apologize. Let's proceed!

Sooo apparently the handling trauma was much appreciated! I was seriously afraid to be tumblrstoned for talking about such a delicate stuff. BUT since people here love reading about people's trauma (u lovely sikos) let's go ahead with...

Handling Trauma

~asra

[tw: weals, manhandling, low-key domination, also abandonment trauma]

Asra is charming, confident, and a master magician. He has seen the worlds and always carries wonderful trinkets in his pockets; dances and sings, and when he's around everything seems to glitter and shine.

That's why is so easy to forget how actually broken he is - the mere fact that he doesn't takes it out on the people around him like Lucio does doesn't mean he's ok - on the contrary, this only makes it worse.

He was a kid when his parents didn't came back home. Do you really believe that Lucio or his courtiers bothered to tell him? He didn't become an orphan in the spur of a fleeting moment - it was a slow, scary, crippling realization. Day after day he waited, he asked, he searched. Night after night he cried, he called, he begged - until he surrendered to the looming silence haunting his parents' bedroom.

He was found by you and your aunt, but by that time he was almost a young man already. So came the days when he looked up to you and slowly fell in love. He longed for your touch when he could see you, and waited to see you every time you were away.

He had found a new family, and soon he won your love.

And then, shortly after, the plague took everything from him - his family, his master, his love, his friends. His serenity, and his happiness.

He loved you, and he lost you. He broke the most sacred law of life to have you back, and spent three long years caring for you, weaving a spiderweb of lies to secure your safety.

It's so easy to forget how desperately afraid of loss Asra is, but thinking about it makes it crystal clear. And there's no way to forget it in your moments together, for when he's the most vulnerable, it shows.

Asra's eyes are hungry for your image. You've never seen him closing his eyes when you're together, as if you could disappear if he close his eyes. There's always a purple glimpse gazing behind his white lashes.

He gifted you a silk sleeping mask, embroidered with moon and stars, because there's always a candle, a lantern, a bonfire next to you when you sleep together. The candle went out on a moonless night, once. You woke in pain, Asra's arms clenching compulsively your body, as he gasped for air through the tears. You had to conjure a magic light on your fingertips, as if he'd forgot he was a magician as well, and spent the night kissing his face, caressing his shivering chest until dawn. Only then he managed to explain.

"I felt the darkness swallowing you".

The following night, yow went to Muriel's and came home with a mossy trunk covered in fairy helmets.

A bunch of glowing mushrooms is cute and helpful indeed, but is far from being a real solution. Asra keeps disappearing for days when he feels vulnerable, just to come back more frantic and confused than before. You can feel the grasp fear has on his soul in the way he holds your wrists tight as you're making love, you can hear it in his words as he asks you with the softest voice if you do still love him, begging you to never leave.

The awareness of his fears follows you even when you're not with him, written in the weals on your skin -on your wrists and hips. When he saw it one morning he begged you to let him erase them with magic. You refused though - you're adamant this is something to be faced.

Each time he's afraid he's all over you, needy for the feeling of your bodies fuse together, for your abandonment in his arms. He's passionate and eager for your delight - each night he wants to hear you screaming his name -again and again, and then tenderly hold your body worn out by the shivers all through the night.

As you indulge his needs when the sun goes down, you become kind but firm when it rises. He when all is said and done, you know you can't do this alone. It's a long way to make Asra feel safe and loved again, and it starts from his friends knowing how much he truly needs their love.

Disclaimer: as usual, this is PURELY FICTIONAL. I'm not a therapist, and this aren't suggestions about how to handle this sort of problems. Irl intimacy problems are shitty and actually really boring. That's why no one writes about it! Oh, and the fairy helmets technically glow, but it's almost invisible to the human's eye. Sry.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Cries of Thunder

Chapter Twenty-Three

Master List |  Thor Odinson Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Thor Odinson x OFC Fallon Smith (post Ragnarok - no Thanos)

Warnings: Filth, smut, NSFW, Thor is a warning in this one, yow! This story deals with themes of past spousal abuse to the extremes. There is a chance that all chapters may deal with tough or triggering themes. Please read with caution.

This chapter brought to you through Coffee Updates by @magpiegirl80. Thanks for your support, hun. Sorry for the wait!

~

Thor walked outside as thunder rumbled in the distance. There was nothing for it. He was too angry with the stunt Sif pulled to rein in his magic, causing the heavens to enact what his emotions were currently going through.

He didn't even have to look for her. Sif stood in the shadows between the houses across the street but stepped into the light with his appearance. 

Her chin was high, and her eyes flashed with anger. Her hair flowed in the wind as it picked up over the ocean and blew the salt breeze into town. 

As she crossed the street, he made his way to the gate, stepped beyond it, and pulled it shut decisively behind him. 

Sif's brows shot up in surprise. She'd rarely been one to school her face, preferring blunt honesty over subtlety. 

Another reason she and Loki did not get on, most likely. 

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[trainerspiral]

As I stagger over to collect the Ultra Ball, Forrest and his Lombre come jogging up. "I heard battling," Forrest huffs. "What happened?"

"Grimer," I say. "There's a hole." I walk over with him and point out the tiny hole in the masonry. This close to the wall, we can hear the sound of other Grimer burbling and grumbling on the outside.

Forrest hisses through his teeth. "I'll patch it. Be right back. Lotus, stay and help." The Lombre squawks an affirmative and stands at attention in front of the hole.

He starts to bolt, then turns back. "If your Pokemon are hurt, help yourself to any berries you think will help."

"Thank you," I say as he turns and runs off.

I'm hesitant to leave Lotus by himself, but if a Grimer comes through now the only way I'll be able to help is by throwing myself in front of it and hoping the V4ST is quick enough, so I walk to the orchard and start looking. Luckily I'm not far from a row of Pecha trees. I pull a ripe one off and release Coba, who lies on his side squeaking in pain. I hold the berry up to his face. "I'm so sorry. Eat this and you'll be--yow!"

I yank my hand back, unprepared for the speed of his lunge. The berry disappears, stem and all, in a single messy chomp. He shakes his head, wipes his mouth with a foreleg, and squeals up at me.

I laugh, tears pricking my eyes, and pick him up. "You did amazing," I whisper.

He makes happy sounds, but he still looks a bit weak. I wander back to check on Lotus, then go to pick a couple Oran berries for him. By the time he finishes the second one, he's scampering around the trees and I have to pick him up so he won't run off and dig up the place.

I glance up then at the V4ST, which has been quietly trailing us. I pick a third Oran berry and slowly hold it out on the palm of my hand. It cocks its head with a quizzical beep.

I say, "Thank you for saving me from the Silcoon. I'm sorry I haven't been nice to you. I'm just scared because I don't want to lose Coba, but I know you're only doing your job. I want us to get along."

It turns its head from side to side, and I'm unsure whether it's looking more at me or the offering. Then it starts making a pecking motion a few inches away from the berry, which disappears one square-shaped chunk at a time. When it's gone, it makes a cheerful sequence of beeps and does a little swoop in the air, and I feel like a weight has been lifted off me.

When I arrive back at the wall, Forrest is patching the hole. "Sorry," he says. "I try to check every week, but it's hard to--"

"It's ok," I say.

He must hear a change in my voice, because he looks up and smiles, nodding at Coba. "The little guy took care of it?"

"Like a champ," I say.

-----

Forrest offers to take over, but I want to repay my debt. With the wall repaired, the rest of the night is uneventful, and by the time dawn breaks I'm exhausted but satisfied. Forrest and his great-grandfather give me breakfast and show me to a guest room, and I sleep like a log until late morning.

True to his word, when I come back out to the kitchen area the Berry Master is waiting with a Belue Berry. "Thank you, sir," I say, bowing as I accept it.

"And thank you for your help defending the trees, youngster," the old man replies. "May you and your Pokemon blossom together."

"Floww, flowwerrr!" Liechi the Bellossom adds.

As I'm on my way out the door, Forrest hands me a bento box. When I open it I find a selection of more common berries, good for a variety of ailments. I try to refuse or offer to pay, but he shakes his head. "It's what we're here for," he says. "Good luck out there."

-----

The afternoon is sweet and mild, but the lingering smell of Grimer still hangs on the breeze. I pedal the Roto-bike around the orchard wall, taking in the trails of dead grass and noticing for the first time how many trees in the surrounding woods are shriveled and brown. If Forrest is right, Koynlab--the company I've impulsively trusted to help me--is responsible for this.

I shake my head. I may have forgotten more than I realize, but I'm no youngster, and bolting off to bring bad guys to justice is a youngster's game. I have to focus on getting Coba home, and I still have 9 more battles to go before his legitimacy will be certain. Whether they're 100% squeaky-clean or not, Koynlab has given me a lifeline, and it would be foolish to let go now.

I turn my bike west, making for Mauville City, and do my best to leave my misgivings behind.

@novelistash

[rainbowsalt0412]

A Day At The Detective Agency

"Kunikida, how did the Armed Detective Agency get started anyway?"

Sitting at a café, Junichiro Tanizaki curiously tilted his head. The tall man sitting on the other side of the table furrowed his already wrinkled brows, then replied with the utmost seriousness, "You don't even know that?"

"No, I don't... Sorry."

It was night. Two men sat facing each other at a narrow-seated table at the back of a café. Resting on the table between them were sesame dango and houjicha—roasted green tea—for two. Both men were stern-faced. A stranger would instinctively do a double take at the curious scene, but these two were agents at the Armed Detective Agency in the middle of a late- night meeting. This vaguely old-fashioned teahouse was Café Uzumaki, located on the first floor of the same building the Armed Detective Agency worked out of.

"I work here, and I still don't even know how it got started. Do you, Kunikida?"

"Of course I do." Doppo Kunikida nodded, seated across from Tanizaki. 

"I knew you would," Tanizaki said with a smile.

"Only a faint idea, though." 

"A faint idea?"

"Yeah, I heard it all secondhand, though. The agency was established roughly a decade ago, by the president. Word is, something happened around then, and then the agency was born."

Tanizaki nodded.

"I see. You, uh... You really do only have a faint idea, huh?"

"Well, I wasn't lying, was I? I don't know any more details than that. I never got another chance to ask about it. Why don't you ask the president yourself?"

Tanizaki grew slightly flustered.

"M-me? No way. I'm still a nobody at the agency."

"Rank is irrelevant. The president isn't the kind of person who would keep secrets like this."

"But, like, I'd be way too nervous... Have you seen the president's eyes when he's angry? He could burn a hole through an iron plate. He'd probably even make a little girl cry."

"That's right." Kunikida nodded in agreement. "The president is a master of martial arts of all styles. Ever since he founded the detective agency, he's managed to uproot all sorts of evils and uncover numerous conspiracies. He's head and shoulders above the rest. A single glare from that man could bring blood spewing out of the eyes of several little girls, instantly killing them. Instantly," Kunikida repeated once more for emphasis.

"That sounds like a curse," said Tanizaki.

"And that's why he's the president. So why did you want to know how the agency was founded? No, I mean—I completely understand why you would be curious about your employer, but why now?"

"Well, about that...," Tanizaki began as he took a sip of tea, but it was apparently still too hot. "Yow!" he exclaimed, sticking out his tongue, then continued. "Because Dazai asked me."

"Dazai?" Kunikida's expression immediately tensed. 

"Yeah, so I—"

"Hold on. Wait. Give me a moment to calm down a little." Kunikida raised his hand to signal to Tanizaki to pause. "Lately, I've been getting horrible stress-induced stomach pains whenever I hear his name. Just sensing he's nearby brings flashes of black and white over my field of vision. It's a natural warning signal, so just give me a few seconds to relax." 

"Th-that sounds awful... I know how you feel, though..." Tanizaki's expression was pure pity.

"I'm the only one in the agency who can keep that worthless vagabond Dazai in check. Well, nobody can truly control him, but...the president has asked me to manage and supervise him. In other words, the president trusts me, so I cannot abandon my role to—"

Kunikida suddenly stopped midsentence. He gazed up at the ceiling, then rubbed his eyes. "Hmm...?" he asked. "Suddenly, the lighting seems off, like it's flickering..."

Tanizaki curiously looked up at the lights, but there was nothing abnormal in the slightest.

"Ahhh!" Kunikida's chair rattled noisily.

A tall young man with messy black hair stood near the entrance. Draped in a khaki coat, he leaned his lanky figure against the café entrance while dangling a paper bag in his right hand.

It was Osamu Dazai—a member of the Armed Detective Agency just like the other two.

"Ah, I never get tired of hearing Kunikida's lovely screaming. I could practically see his life span shortening with my own two eyes. Oh, I'll have my usual black tea, ma'am."

The middle-aged café owner poked her head out from the back. "Oh, Dazai! Handsome as ever, I see!" she called out to him.

"Right back at you, ma'am!" Dazai returned the compliment with a wave, then took a seat right next to Kunikida. The already cramped table became even more so.

"Dazai... What are you doing here?" asked Kunikida in a growl, like a wounded beast threatening its natural enemy.

"Huh? I came so I could shave a few years off your life, of cour—"

Kunikida wrapped his hands around Dazai's neck and violently shook him before he could even finish his sentence.

"How much do I have to suffer by your hand before it's enough?! When...will...it...stop...?!"

"Wa-ha-ha-ha!" Dazai cackled, still being shaken.

"C-come on, let's calm down, you two. We're in public."

Tanizaki's eyes darted around the shop restlessly. However, this café was on the first floor of the same building the detective agency was in. Dazai's eccentric behavior and Kunikida's yelling were nothing new to the owner or even the other customers. Everyone warmly watched them from their seats as if they were observing a schoolyard tussle between two brothers.

As the patrons' affectionate gazes fell on him as well, Tanizaki forced a half-hearted laugh. He had no other choice. Kunikida continued to shake Dazai, while Dazai continued to enjoy the punishment.

"You're too laid-back! How dare you show your face again this late at night! Where were you at work today?! Out annoying someone just like you always do, no doubt! Who do you think cleans up after you and apologizes for your mess?!"

"Oh, that's clearly y—"

"There is no way in hellI'm going to let you finish that sentence!"

Kunikida twisted Dazai's neck, letting out a slight pop. Pure bliss was the only way to describe the look on Dazai's face.

"Um, anyway..." Tanizaki spoke up. "I was telling Kunikida what we talked about earlier. You know, when you asked me why the Armed Detective Agency exists."

"What?" Kunikida cast Dazai a dubious gaze.

"Yep." Dazai's twisted neck cracked and popped as he adjusted it. "I just met with Tanizaki around noon today."

"Where?"

"At a bar."

As the seconds crawled by, Kunikida's expression gradually started to look like a patient with neurotoxins slowly poisoning his body.

"I figured you were out drinking somewhere when you skipped work today, so that's fine. I'll save my anger for later. However, Tanizaki, what were you doing there? Don't tell me you were playing hooky as well? Surely an eighteen-year-old wouldn't be skipping work to day drink. Various studies and statistics have demonstrated the negative effects of underaged drinking, and there is clear proof that alcohol affects the secretion of testosterone. But regardless of the studies, if you start drinking now, your brain is going to turn into mush like his!" Kunikida firmly pointed to Dazai by his side.

"You may call me Mushy Brains." Dazai quickly lowered his head and bowed.

"N-no, you've got the wrong idea!" Tanizaki waved his hands in a fluster. "I was there for work. I was told to go to the bar, and when I went, I ran into Dazai, and—"

"Yep. Nice seeing you there!"

"What...? So you went there for work? To a bar where Dazai just happened to be? ...I find it hard to believe that this was a coincidence... which means Dazai asked you to meet him there. Did he ask you to pay his tab? Or did he cause a scene and need you to...?"

Kunikida stopped himself. His face turned pale before he bent forward at the waist.

"D-don't tell me... It was the opposite? Did more trouble find him again? Is that it?"

"I'm sorry, Kunikida." Tanizaki lowered his gaze apologetically.

"Sheesh, it wasn't a big deal. Certainly nothing worth glowering over like that." Dazai gleefully smirked. "All I did was drink and make merry with the folks at the bar, have a chat, listen to their stories, and go home. I promise... Oh, and there was a bomb somewhere in there."

"..."

Kunikida's upper body slowly rocked back and forth as he sat in silence. "...Kunikida?" Worried, Tanizaki called out his colleague's name.

"I...passed out for a second there," Kunikida uttered feebly while lifting up his head. "A bomb...? Tanizaki, why didn't you say something at the start of our meeting? Who planted the bomb? Have the city police done anything about it? Did the military police's bomb squad take care of it? What happened to the bomb?"

"It's right here." Dazai dropped a paper bag on the table with a thud. "Aggghhh!" Startled, Kunikida jumped back—chair and all.

"Don't worry. Despite its realistic appearance, it's a fake." Dazai shrugged. "I'll make this short. The bomb was delivered yesterday to my usual haunt, addressed to me from an anonymous sender. I opened the package and found this inside. Right when I unwrapped it, the fuse came off. Even the slightest movement might have caused it to explode, so the city police and the detective agency were duly contacted."

"And that's why I was sent over there," said Tanizaki.

"I swear, every single time... How do you manage to constantly get yourself involved in these messes?"

Kunikida's face was twisted in anguish as if he had just eaten a poisonous mushroom.

"Aw, c'mon, it's just a fake." At that moment, the tea Dazai ordered was brought to the table. Grinning, Dazai dropped a few sugar cubes in his teacup before taking a sip. Then he said, "This bomb ended up being a timer without any explosive components inside. Nothing more than a replica. Someone was just messing with me. Anyway, I already spoke with the perpetrator, so everything's okay now."

"Were they arrested?"

"Yep. I found a scrap of paper when I opened the bomb that said, 'Keep your eyes on me and me alone.' Turns out it was one woman's unique yet extreme way of telling me she was obsessed with me. I had a few ideas as to who it could be, so I contacted them one by one until I found the criminal. After a good scolding, I convinced her it just wasn't going to work out between the two of us. Besides, I wouldn't be able to enjoy myself at the pub if she kept sending me bombs every day."

Kunikida, in that moment the picture of exhaustion itself, stared at Dazai.

"...I see."

His response was brief, but the look on his face essentially said, "I can't even begin to fathom why someone like him is so popular with women."

"And then one of the cops who showed up said to me, 'It's thanks to the Armed Detective Agency's efforts to keep the city safe that we can do our jobs properly.' Or something like that. I mean, how weird is that?"

"Oh?" Kunikida cocked an eyebrow. "Well, isn't that nice... Not that you'd be in any position to complain if the cop drop-kicked you for getting bomb threats thanks to your half-assed flirting with every girl you see! You're a menace to women everywhere!" Kunikida yelled while sternly kicking Dazai's chair.

 "It certainly is a good thing, though," claimed Tanizaki with a strained smile. "I was equal parts grateful and suspicious. I mean, it's the police's job to protect the city so that the citizens can work in peace, isn't it? That got me wondering why the president started a business that even the police appreciate."

"And that's what we talked about at the pub today," added Dazai with a smile.

"I see." Kunikida crossed his arms. "Danger does come with the job. Starting an agency isn't something you can do on a whim. But as you know, the president is a man of humanity and justice. Search the entire country, and you still won't find someone as fit for the job as he is. Personally, I believe the agency's founding was divine providence."

Kunikida took a sip of his tea, then scowled at Dazai out of the corner of his eye.

"Speaking of the detective agency," Kunikida continued with an acidic note in his tone, "I just remembered something—Dazai, what happened with that kid?"

"What kid?"

"The homeless one you took in yesterday," Kunikida replied as he placed his cup on the table. "You mentioned you wanted to employ him at the agency. Were you being serious? Because that's not something any sane person would do. Not only is he a total stranger, the boy's also a dangerous skill user and designated beastly threat within the local ward. And you want the agency to hire him?"

"Heh-heh-heh. I'm more than serious about it. In fact, that's why I came here today. Ah, I can't wait."

"Oh, I heard about that," said Tanizaki, leaning forward in his chair. "This is the case where you had to catch a man-eating tiger that ended up actually being a street urchin boy with the ability to transform into a tiger, right? I can't believe you guys were able both to solve such a bizarre case in under a day and take a skill user into custody without issue. You aren't known as the best duo in the agency for nothing."

"Oh, stop. You're embarrassing me." 

"We're not a 'duo.'"

Dazai and Kunikida spoke at the exact same time.

However, the fact of the matter was that they were the most talented duo in the agency when it came to solving tough cases, and they had boasted a record of solving the most difficult cases ever since Dazai joined the company two years ago. Outsiders who didn't know their personalities or how much they didn't get along often thought they were the perfect pair. Ignorance is bliss.

"At any rate...," Kunikida said while glaring at Dazai. "I'm against the idea, but if you're serious about this, then you need to go talk it over with the president. If he agrees, then I won't say another word about the matter."

"Already done," Dazai replied, beaming. "He told me to come up with an entrance exam."

"Seriously? So you're saying he gave you permission?" asked Tanizaki. "Yep. Just one thing, though..." Dazai placed his thumb to his lips as if deep in thought. "I still haven't thought of what I'm gonna get Atsushi to do for his entrance exam. Such a serious matter shouldn't be left to me to decide alone. Right, partner?"

Dazai sent Kunikida a sly smirk after he finished.

"Of course." Kunikida crossed his arms grumpily. "The entrance exam is an important rite of passage, a test of one's compatibility with the agency and the authenticity of their very soul. Furthermore, this newcomer is a designated threat to the local ward. One wrong move, and the agency itself could fall under suspicion for illegally harboring a dangerous beast. I can't argue with you if the president has given you permission, but we must be more thorough than usual with this exam. No way I'm letting you pull some idea out of your ass to test him."

"Then it's settled." Dazai tossed back the rest of his tea with mirth before standing. "Let's go. I've already called everyone to the agency's conference room."

"...For what?" Kunikida asked flatly.

"To get started on what you just said." Dazai stuck out his index finger to get everyone's attention and smirked. "Boss's orders. We need everyone's wisdom in order to determine what this newcomer—our new rising star—can do for the agency."

Dazai took in a deep breath, then declared:

"Let the first entrance exam trial meeting begin!"

The Armed Detective Agency was a private organization made up of skill users. There were the investigators who solved client cases, and office staff in charge of gathering intel, handling client relations, and seeing to accounting matters. Although the agency didn't have a set number of employees, the usual staff totaled a dozen or so, including the president.

Almost all the investigators had some sort of skill.

Skill User: Junichiro Tanizaki, Skill: Light Snow

Skill User: Doppo Kunikida, Skill: The Matchless Poet

Skill User: Osamu Dazai, Skill: No Longer Human

Others had their own unique skills as well, which they used for their work. The Armed Detective Agency was a band of skill users who oversaw the twilight between the worlds of day—where the governmental authority of the police reigned—and night, ruled by the dark underbelly of society.

The agency was founded over a decade ago by the president after a chance encounter with a certain skill user. But that is a story for a later time.

This is the tale of the Armed Detective Agency's newest employee and the entrance exam that determined his suitability for the job.

Atsushi Nakajima—the night before his hiring.

***

The Armed Detective Agency's office was located on the fourth floor of a reddish-brown brick building. Inside were an office floor, a reception area, a conference room, the president's office, an infirmary, an operating room, and a kitchenette. A spiral staircase for emergency use stood in the back, but everyone usually took the single, old-fashioned elevator.

The three agents got on the elevator and headed to the detective agency. It was nighttime; most employees were already making their way home, and only a few still remained in the office sitting under the bright, white fluorescent lights. One was writing a letter, another was reading a novel, and the last one was eating noodles. They seemed to have stayed by choice, rather than because of remaining work.

The seaside was visible from the office windows, and a merchant ship's steam whistle could be heard blowing a few times in the distance. Kunikida, Dazai, and Tanizaki casually waved and greeted the staff before heading into the conference room at the end of the office.

The room was already occupied.

"Oh my. Just look at what the cat dragged in. If it's an autopsy you're looking for, I'm afraid I've closed up for the day."

With her slender legs crossed as she sat, Miss Yosano lifted her head up from reading the newspaper in her hands.

Skill User: Akiko Yosano, Skill: Thou Shall Not Die

Yosano was the agency's personal physician and a healing skill user, which was rare even on a global scale. She single-handedly took care of all medical treatment in the detective agency, and there was never a shortage of fresh wounds. An immensely capable physician who loved nothing more than performing surgeries and autopsies, Yosano would oftentimes try to operate on patients with even the smallest cuts or scrapes, thus making her far more frightening to her colleagues than any enemy. To make matters worse, her primary surgical tool was a hatchet.

"Dr. Yosano." Tanizaki, the first to enter, blinked in surprise. "What are you doing in the conference room?"

"What does it look like? I'm reading the paper," Yosano responded while flapping the paper in her hands. "I was really busy today, so I didn't get a chance to check the news," she added while she continued to read one particular column. "Another great article today, I might add."

"I never took you for the type who likes to read the paper...," Tanizaki said while taking a peek at the periodical. "So what's this 'great article' you're reading?"

"The best section in the newspaper: the obituary notices," she said with a cheerful smirk. "Death is the fairest judge of all."

"You can say that again," Dazai added, all smiles as he appeared in the doorway.

After the brief exchange, Tanizaki, Kunikida, and Dazai walked into the room and took a seat in that order. The hands on the wall clock made a resounding tick, tick.

"So what are you all doing here?" asked Yosano after taking her nose out of the paper.

"Heh-heh... We're having a meeting to decide on the next entrance exam," Dazai brightly replied. "Remember that tiger-boy from yesterday? Well, turns out we're going to come up with his exam democratically. I want to hear everyone's opinion."

"Democratically, huh?" Yosano raised an eyebrow. "How about we do the same thing we did for Tanizaki? How's that?"

Yosano glanced in Tanizaki's direction, and he instantly turned pale, shaking his head.

"I—I don't ever...want to be reminded of that again."

When Tanizaki was new, he had to pass what could be called a very harsh entrance exam. However, it was so harsh that all of Tanizaki's memories of that day ended up buried deep in his subconscious. Remembering what happened would only bring underlying trauma up to the surface.

"Anyway, this isn't about me." Tanizaki leaned forward. "Let's keep this exam tame."

"Ooh, check out this article," Yosano interrupted while reading the paper. "'MANY DEAD OR INJURED AFTER ILLICIT SHANGHAI HAIRY CRAB SUPPLIER GOES UP IN FLAMES.' I bet that smelled wonderful. Maybe I'll walk by the place on the way home." She licked her lips.

"D-don't you think that's just a little much...?" Tanizaki looked disturbed. "Besides, Yosano, that paper's from two months ago. It's old. You wouldn't be able to enjoy the rich fragrance of freshly cooked crab even if you went."

"Oh, hey... You're right." Yosano checked the newspaper's date and frowned. "Who's the wise guy who left this old paper lying on the table? Tch. And here I was excited for my chance to cut up some bodies from the fire—living or dead—under the pretense of helping a legal autopsy."

Yosano tossed the newspaper aside in disappointment.

"Yeah, I don't know how I feel about mutilating living people with a hatchet..."

Tanizaki, who frequently found himself under the knife, expressed the kind of sympathy only a firsthand victim could.

"Grilled crab is the greatest treasure of this world," Dazai commented, completely missing the point.

"Dazai." Kunikida finally spoke in a low tone. "Forget about the crabs. What happened to the meeting? I thought you said you called everyone to the conference room, yet Dr. Yosano seems to be the only one here."

"Hmm..." Dazai peered up at the clock while tilting his head. "I did contact everyone, but the agents here are all so laid-back, y'know? It'll probably take them a little longer to arrive."

Crossing his arms, Kunikida stared at Dazai. "Yes, you're one to talk, Dazai. You're basically the king of Laid-Back Land." Kunikida pouted his lips. "You said this was a meeting, but do you have any specific ideas on how you're going to proceed?"

"Yeah, yeah, I already came up with a plan. Not even the Prime Minister of Meeting Procedure Land, Kunikida, will complain."

Dazai then got out of his seat and began to write on the whiteboard in the corner of the room.

"Step one: exchange ideas.

"Step two: pick the most suitable proposal given. 

"Step three: assign appropriate roles.

"...So? Rather systematic, wouldn't you agree?" Dazai claimed while tapping the whiteboard.

"It is systematic...which is actually why I've got a bad feeling about this." Kunikida frowned. "That part about roles especially worries me. This is you we're talking about, after all. I'll bet you devised some sort of scheme to get out of any work at all. Am I wrong?"

"I'm offended. I would never be so deceptive. Surely my colleague Kunikida trusts me, right?" Dazai spread his arms wide, claiming innocence.

"Nope," replied Kunikida.

"Sorry, I don't believe you, either...," added Tanizaki. "Never believed anyone less," said Yosano.

Dazai leaped out of his chair in an amused manner. "So cruel!"

"We'll be keeping our eyes on you. At any rate, let's not worry about step three for now. We need to start exchanging ideas," said Kunikida as he checked the clock once more. The only two agents missing were Ranpo and Kenji. The final decision would need the majority vote, meaning their presence would be essential, but a meeting to exchange ideas with the current members was more than doable.

"That's the spirit!" Dazai said with a smile. "If Kunikida wants to start, then let the meeting begin. All right, then... Any proposals?"

Dazai took a seat, then looked at everyone in rotation one by one. Each of the room's occupants exchanged glances, hesitant to speak up. They could go toe to toe with the most violent skill users while humming a merry tune, but even these veteran detectives weren't good at everything, and reading the situation was one such difficulty for them. When each agent in a gathering possessed an outstanding skill and unusual personality, one would have a better chance of finding treasure in the unexplored corners of South America than trying to guess what the other was thinking. However, the silence was soon broken.

"Oh, wow! Look at Tanizaki! Look at how he's glowing! He's just dying to speak up!" Frustrated, Dazai threw Tanizaki to the wolves.

"Huh? M-me?" Tanizaki pointed at himself, puzzled.

"I can see it! The radiant idea is illuminating your body! Go ahead. Tell us about that ace up your sleeve! Tell us about your cherished proposal that will make us jump out of our seats and clap! Our hearts are ready!"

"Please don't make this any more difficult than it already is!" Tanizaki cried out in a fluster. "Anyway, I don't think it needs to be some convoluted test. Why don't we just look at the requests we've received from clients and pick out something reasonable from there? I believe I heard that's what they did with you, Dazai."

"Oh! Good idea! Thanks, Tanizaki." Dazai proceeded to write "handle a case" on the whiteboard in black. "Any objections?"

"You already know the answer to that, Dazai," Kunikida said. "That would work if this were any ordinary newcomer. However, the military police are under orders to put down the beast that's been terrorizing the district. In other words, he's wanted. The agency won't have any problem concealing his identity to an extent, but that doesn't mean we should toss him into the midst of chaos before he's even hired. Surely the president told you this already."

"They don't call you the president's top apprentice for nothing!" Dazai placed his hands on his cheeks. "The president essentially told me the same thing. Hmm... It was a very reasonable proposal, but we have to come up with a test that won't attract too much outside attention. Sorry, Tanizaki."

"Oh...," Tanizaki uttered with a note of disappointment. "Then...how about having him solve a problem within the agency?"

"Such as?"

"Hmm... Maybe like clearing a paper jam or cleaning the pipes?"

"This isn't a janitorial position." Kunikida furrowed his brow. "Besides, there aren't really any incidents at the agency that could 'test the veracity of one's soul.'"

"We'll come back to this one."

There upon, Dazai wrote 'Solve an in-house issue' on the whiteboard before adding a '?' at the end.

"Are we just going to sit here and criticize every single idea? We're getting absolutely nowhere," Yosano complained, resting her chin on her palm. She pointed at Dazai. "Dazai, you're the one who wanted to do this. Tell us your idea. Surely you've thought of something."

Dazai remained silent for a few seconds. "...Heh-heh."

He giggled as if he had been waiting for someone to say exactly that. Then he slowly took a bundle of paper out of a paper bag and placed it where everyone could see. The sheets were crammed with sentences, but it was difficult to tell whether they had been scribbled quickly or by garden- variety terrible penmanship.

"Of course, I came prepared! Feast your eyes on the numerous foolproof plans I've devised!"

Everyone looked at Dazai in awe—except for Kunikida, who had seen this coming and scowled.

"My first proposal is a test that focuses on physical abilities and stamina. First, we'll take the train thirty minutes to the Yokohama city zoo and sneak in after closing. Then we'll throw our candidate into the Asiatic black bear exhibit and leave him in there overnight. If he's either defeated the bears or escaped by the time we come back the next morning, we'll hire him."

"Dazai," Kunikida intoned deeply as he glared at Dazai.

"If he reconciles with the bears, then we keep him on standby." "Dazai."

"But we would be completely in the wrong from the bears' point of view, so we're moving on to my next idea. This proposal focuses on thinking ability and problem-solving. There's this old man in the Sixth District who's so stingy you have to wonder if he was a piggy bank in a past life. Word has it one time his change was off by five yen, and he lambasted the clerk for two hours straight. We'll have the newcomer come up with some reason to borrow a thousand yen from the old man."

"Dazai."

"And if he can keep playing dumb for a month without paying the man back, we'll hire him."

"It hurts just imagining that!" 

"After that—"

Dazai continued flipping through his stack of paper until Kunikida stopped him.

"Wait, wait, wait. Are all the ideas you came up with like that? The hell do you think the entrance exam is? Besides, there's no way you could avoid that old man for an entire month. The sheer stress would cause you to go bald."

"In that case, we'll have the newcomer borrow the money under your name," Dazai claimed while staring at Kunikida's crown.

"Don't you dare!" Kunikida yelled while covering his head. "...Ahem. What I meant to say is, this kid is a potential agency member! There has to be something more suited to that! The exam should test a candidate's sense of righteousness, his abilities, his knowledge, his morality!"

"Really? Okay, then how about this one. If he eats four pounds of sugar in under five minutes, then—"

"All your ideas are garbage! They're just becoming more absurd as you go on! What is this, a circus sideshow? Tch. Surely there's got to be someone out there with a better idea than—"

Just when Kunikida was about to tear his hair out... 

"Sorry to keep you waiting!"

The door to the conference room flew open with a strange-sounding creak from its hinges.

"Sorry. I was plowing the field in front of my house and lost track of time. Check out the huge radishes I harvested today. You could kill a guy with one of these! Don't worry. I'll make sure everyone gets their share later!"

The lively, energetic voice belonged to a small-framed young man donning a straw hat and cotton overalls. The gloves stuffed in his pocket were soiled with fresh dirt, and to top it off, he was barefoot.

This was Kenji Miyazawa, the youngest agent at the detective agency.

"Hey, Kenji! We were waiting for you!" Dazai was all smiles as he welcomed his colleague. "You remember why I asked you here, right? Well, let me tell you, it's been one heated discussion! Come, Kenji, give us one or two of your brightest ideas!"

"I'll see what I can do!" the young detective replied cheerfully before entering. His bare feet tapped against the floor as he cut across the room to read the whiteboard. Then he turned around to face the others.

"The exam needs to test whether he's talented enough to join the agency, right?"

Kenji pondered for a few seconds before facing Dazai and raising his hand.

"Oh, I know!"

"Yes, Kenji?" Dazai pointed at Kenji, allowing him to speak. "Get him to arm wrestle me! If he wins, he's in!"

Everyone fell silent, their expressions dead serious. Even Dazai was left speechless.

It was an unattainable objective. Kenji's skill, Undefeated by the Rain, granted him superhuman strength and made his body essentially indestructible by physically knocking back whatever hit him. He could effortlessly throw a car if he wanted to. In fact, he once wrestled three seasoned sumo wrestlers and simultaneously threw them in the air. No one knows if they ever hit the ground. Everyone in the room imagined the newcomer trying to arm wrestle Kenji until his arm got torn off and left him screaming.

"I don't think that's a good idea..." Tanizaki timidly spoke up, breaking the silence. His face stiff, he glanced around at the others.

But when he noticed the nearby Yosano mutter under her breath "...That could work" with a smirk, he immediately tried changing the subject.

"A-any other ideas?"

"Other ideas, huh?" Kenji repeated, unbothered. He paced back and forth a few times, deep in thought as his bare feet audibly tapped the floor. "I think most detective work boils down to putting in the effort one day at a time." Kenji struck his palm with a fist before continuing. "I'm fairly certain the president would agree that it's not about jumping immediately into action, going berserk on the enemy, and having a fairy-tale ending. So how about we have him plow the field next to my house little by little, and if that leads to a good harvest come autumn, then he can join the company. Sounds wonderful, if you ask me!"

Everyone's gazes fixated on Tanizaki in silence—"Say something!" they seemed to be urging him.

"Uh... Y-yeah..." Tanizaki reluctantly gave an ambiguous reply. "We were with you during the first half, but...I think waiting until autumn might be a little too long. Right, Kunikida?"

"A-agreed." Kunikida seemed startled when the hot potato was suddenly thrown to him.

"Oh... If you say so..." Kenji's innocent, childlike eyes showed a hint of disappointment. "Then how about one of the more common rites of passage we use back in the countryside where I'm from?"

"Oh? What kind of ritual is that?" Tanizaki raised his eyebrows.

Kenji was from an extremely remote village deep in the mountains of the Touhoku region just past a stream that cut through the forest. Up until the day he was scouted by the president and brought to the agency two months prior, Kenji lived a simple life surrounded by cows and fields, which was why he may seem uncivilized to some.

"Back home, we had a young men's association that would help out with general farm work. There were a few ways to become a member, but for example..." Kenji raised his index finger and continued, "...forecasting the weather."

"Huh... Sounds neat. I guess the weather is very important to farmers, after all. So basically, if you correctly predict the next day's weather without checking the forecast, you pass?"

"Not just the next day's weather. An entire month's weather." "...Pardon?"

"You predict the weather by checking the soil and the animals' behavior.

I can do it, too! Here: sunny, cloudy, sunny, sunny with showers in the morning and in the evening..."

After that, Kenji rambled on, forecasting the weather for an entire month. Unfortunately, though, everyone blanked out, and all that information went in one ear and out the other.

"Th-that's really impressive..." Tanizaki finally spoke up. "Anything else?"

"If you can hold a conversation with a cow, you pass. Or a dog."

"Your village sounds incredible, Kenji...," Tanizaki muttered in blank amazement.

"Also, anyone who can summon rain gets a free pass. The same goes for people who can grow a sapling into a tree in a day's time."

"That's a real top-notch group you've got back home!"

"If you build a community center in one night, you pass." 

"Who lives there, Hideyoshi Toyotomi?!"

"If you defeat a cursed spirit, you pass." 

"Those exist?!"

"Also..."

"H-hold on." Tanizaki stopped him, unable to take any more. "I think we're getting way off topic. Plus, I feel like if we listen to any more of this, we're going to completely forget about the meeting, so let's stop there for today."

"Oh... Well, if you say so." Kenji tilted his head to the side in a disheartened manner. Just then, Tanizaki turned around to find Dazai writing 'Hideyoshi Toyotomi' on the whiteboard.

***

The debate over the entrance exam had reached a fever pitch. Everything Dazai proposed, Kunikida shot down, while Yosano raised an objection to everything Kunikida suggested. And whenever Yosano brought something up, Tanizaki said, "Yeah, that's a bit much..."

Everyone put their heads together and passionately debated the topic in an effort to select the best rookie for the agency...or at least, that was what they should have done. In reality, this bunch was simply far too eccentric to put out a proposal that could be considered even halfway decent.

"A rookie needs guts," Yosano argued with a curl of her sensuous lips. "How about we do this: You all have pinkie fingers on your left hand, right?"

Everyone looked at their pinkies.

"We start from the left pinkie...and tear off one finger until we reach the pinkie on his right. If he can make it through all ten fingers, he's in."

"That's way too cruel!" Tanizaki shrieked. 

"All right, eight fingers, then."

"What kind of pointless compromise is that?!"

"Oh, come on. I can always just heal him with my skill," Yosano said with a pout. "If you're not gonna let me do that, then how about we file down his crotch and see how long before he cries? That could be the test."

All the men in the room grabbed their crotches and leaped out of their chairs at the thought of the unfathomable pain.

"We're not going to torture him!"

"Then how about he challenges me to a drinking contest? If he wins, he's hired."

"That's hazing!" Tanizaki shouted back.

"Hey, Kunikida, you've been awfully quiet," Dazai pointed out. "It's about time for the star of the show to make their appearance, don't you think? Please grace us with one of your stellar ideas."

"...You would pretend to help someone before pulling the ladder from under them. I know you well enough that no praise of yours could motivate me. If anything, it gives me anxiety," Kunikida said while glaring at Dazai. "Sigh. It doesn't matter. How about this? If he takes out Dazai, he's hired."

"Oh, wow," Tanizaki said in admiration while lightly clapping his hands together.

"...Anything else?" asked Dazai, peering at Kunikida from the corner of his eye.

"If he argues Dazai into silence and makes him reflect on all his misdeeds, then he's hired."

"Oh, wow! Good idea." Tanizaki enthusiastically nodded. "Anything else?"

"Yes, he could take Dazai...! And then, like, put him between two wooden boards or something, then slowly apply pressure on both sides and

blow hot steam on his face. He could stab him with countless tiny needles with the occasional electric shock in between and whisper into his ear, 'This is all your fault. This is all your fault.' And after that, he could...!"

In a heated frenzy, Kunikida gestured as if he were hitting something in the air before twisting and shaking it. His eyes were bloodshot. Tanizaki, as well as the others watching in the conference room, were slightly weirded out.

"Um... I... I'm sorry," Dazai mumbled feebly. However, Kunikida didn't seem to hear him.

"But you wouldn't actually reflect on your misdeeds, right, Dazai?" Tanizaki asked.

"Nope," came the usual reply. Just then, there was a knock at the conference room door.

"Pardon my intrusion." It was a girl's voice, clear as a bell. "You all must be absolutely exhausted from such a long meeting. One of our regulars brought us a gift, so how about taking a short break and helping yourself to one?"

A high school–age girl walked in, her long, shiny black tresses cascading down her back. She was wearing a school uniform and held a tray of food in her delicate hands.

"Naomi!" Tanizaki lifted his head in surprise. "I thought you already went home."

"I was waiting for you so we could go home together."

Naomi gently smiled. Underneath one of her eyes was a beauty mark that gave her an alluring appeal beyond her years. Naomi Tanizaki, Junichiro Tanizaki's younger sister, worked at the agency's office when she wasn't at school. With a practiced hand, she placed a cup of green tea and a meat bun on the conference desk for each person there. Steam rose from the buns along with a delicious aroma; they must have been fresh out of the oven. She walked by her brother and leaned in so closely that he could feel her breath.

"My dearest brother," she said, a touch of heat in her long exhale, "you're looking ever so handsome, as usual."

Naomi stroked the back of his neck with her fingertips. Everyone in the room pretended not to notice. Apparently, these two were blood-related siblings; Tanizaki had admitted as much before, and Naomi had made it no secret, either. Nevertheless, they looked nothing alike. Compared with Tanizaki, who had timid yet honest eyes and a smile always lacking self- confidence, Naomi had a certain sexiness that defied her young age. She had voluptuous lips and lashes so long you might expect to hear them when she blinked. Her eyes were large, like bottomless pits that would absorb any young man naive enough to peer into them, trapping them in a world of fantasy as all the blood rushed to a certain part of his body.

To make matters worse, she always tried to have some sort of physical contact with her brother, regardless of location or who was around. She would touch his ear during conversation, rub his thigh during work, and blow into his ear whenever he wasn't paying attention. Tanizaki would start acting self-conscious every time, and his eyes would wander, but Naomi even seemed to enjoy her brother's reactions.

"Oh, Big Brother, you have a piece of lint on your chest. Let me get that for you."

Naomi softly traced Tanizaki's collarbone with her fingernail. Of course, there wasn't a speck of lint on his body. Tanizaki turned red and blinked uncomfortably. Everyone awkwardly looked away.

"Are you two actually related, though? How can two siblings live alone together and act like this?"

That was the question not a single person in the agency was brave enough to ask. Everyone firmly believed something was up, but they could never pry for fear that their hunch was right.

"Hey, Big Brother... I brought what you asked. It's in my bag. Tonight, we could use it to—"

"Huh? O-oh yeah. Thanks."

And that was exactly why no one could ask them what they were talking about, despite wondering about the meaning behind Naomi's suggestive whispers and the fact that Tanizaki was looking at everything but her.

"These meat buns are amazing!"

Kenji, who was seated at the foot of the table, was the only one munching happily away at the meat buns Naomi brought. Appetite outweighed sex appeal as far as he was concerned.

"Hey, Naomi, how about helping us out a little while you're here?" Dazai suggested brightly. "We're brainstorming ideas for the rookie's entrance exam."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful!" She placed the tray under her arm, then beamed rapturously. "Although I wonder if I could even come up with anything useful..."

"We're still in the early stages. Spitballing. Anything will do," Dazai assured her. "It can be something you're good at or familiar with, if you want."

"...!"

Kunikida shot Dazai a look pleading with him to shut up. "Hmm... Let me think..."

Naomi tilted her head to the side while she pondered. A few moments went by before she blushed and offered three proposals.

Unfortunately, none of what she said could be written here.

***

The room was silent as everyone ate their meat buns. At this rate, the trial meeting was never going to end. Everyone started to come to the faint realization that conferences and debates just weren't their strong suits. They needed to find some common ground.

Written in black on the conference room whiteboard were eight ideas: 

'Handle a case,'

'Solve an in-house issue,'

'Hideyoshi Toyotomi,' 

'Tear off eight fingers,'

'Hazing,'

'Crush Dazai,'

'****ing,'  and

'These meat buns are delicious.'

Tanizaki's internal battery was starting to die. While somewhat obvious that this would prove to be a tricky meeting, no one was expecting that agreeing on a single idea would be such a great challenge, nor did they anticipate the process of finding common ground to be so mundane. Building a sandcastle would have been a more constructive use of their time.

Tanizaki and Kunikida exchanged looks. They predicted this would happen. Their meeting earlier at the café was actually to plan for a situation like this. A meeting-response meeting. They considered what to do when meetings like this were going nowhere, and they specifically made sure to keep it a secret from Dazai. Kunikida seized this opportunity to speak up just as he'd planned earlier at the café.

"Dazai, how about narrowing down our choices? We have been stuck on step one for too long already. If we don't decide on something now, we'll be here all night. I'm not saying we have to choose one of the ideas on the board, but at least give us some basic direction."

"Huh? But arguing over such trifles together is fun. Let's keep this going all night!"

"Whether you're enjoying yourself or not is beside the point. We came here today for a reason," Kunikida said, sternly furrowing his brow. "Plus, we've got minors here, too. Hurry it up. All that's left for us to do is decide on an idea and delegate roles, right?"

"But we're still missing someone." Dazai scratched his head. "Ranpo's not here, and we need everyone present before we can decide on the test. I wonder what he's doing this late at night? Maybe he's working on a tough case, and it's taking longer than he thought..."

"Oh!" Naomi placed a hand on her cheek. "Actually, Ranpo's in the office right now."

"Huh?"

"I saw him when I was walking by a few moments ago. He was wrapped up in one of those puzzles that comes with the candy boxes."

"That's Ranpo for ya. Nothing fazes him." Dazai proceeded to compliment Ranpo for whatever reason.

Ranpo Edogawa, twenty-six years old, was the Armed Detective Agency's top detective and the brains of the operation. He possessed outstanding powers of observation and deduction for someone so ingenuous and simple in nature. Even then, he was impossible to figure out, and he yielded to no one. Ranpo was only willing to go out on a case so long as he alone solved it. Although he didn't mean any harm, he would tell anyone they were stupid even if it was their first time meeting, and he never hesitated to give someone a pat on the head—victim, perpetrator, you name it. And there wasn't a single case he couldn't solve. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he was the center pillar of the agency.

"I'll go get him," Naomi said before trotting out of the conference room. After watching her leave, Dazai said, "Everything should be okay now. There is nothing he can't solve."

"I agree, but is this really something worth bothering him over?"

Kunikida asked reluctantly. "His brain should only be used for solving cases. There are plenty of difficult cases he could be cracking instead of spending his time on something as trivial as this."

There wasn't a single soul in the neighborhood who didn't know Ranpo's skill. Even the big shots from government organizations like the city police would beg him for help.

Skill User: Ranpo Edogawa Skill: Super Deduction

While most skills were supernatural events that bent the laws of physics, Ranpo's stood out as extraordinary even among the best detectives—the ability to see the truth.

No matter the case or event, he could see the truth after nothing more than a single glance. His skill almost seemed like cheating, even. The existence of such an ability would render any and all investigative organizations utterly meaningless. And yet, Ranpo possessed such a skill and used it to solve mysteries. The truth never escaped his discerning eye.

And that was precisely why no one could oppose him, which consequently made Ranpo even more arrogant. It allowed him to solve cases however he liked, even if that meant dragging other relevant parties down with it. After he departed the scene of a crime, he always left everyone involved mentally exhausted, despite having solved the case. No one could control the infallible genius...except for the president, whom Ranpo still earnestly listened to for some reason. He would get depressed if the boss got mad at him, and it brought him so much joy when he was praised. Nobody knew exactly why he was so obedient, but according to the other agents, "Well, you know how the president is. Guess it's no real surprise."

Tmp. Tmp. Tmp. Ranpo walked up to the conference room door with force in his step.

"Hey, folks! I see everyone's racking their brain over another pointless meeting," Ranpo quipped with a grin. "Sigh. What would you guys do without me?"

"We've been waiting for you, Ranpo," said Dazai, smiling back. "We're having a meeting about the entrance exam I mentioned to you earlier. Got any ideas?"

"I hate using my head for boring stuff," Ranpo complained. "And anyway, I honestly couldn't care less if this newcomer's got what it takes. There are two kinds of people in the world: those who cry tears of joy when I solve a case, and those who cry out of frustration!"

"You raise a fine point." Dazai nodded in agreement.

"But of course, my skill always leads me to the truth, be it a murder or even something as trivial as this. Besides, I'll be away on a business trip tomorrow, so I won't be able to take part in the test anyway. There was a string of killings in the Hokuriku region that I've been dying to investigate. But as a parting gift, I suppose I wouldn't be against using my Super Deduction to predict the course of this meeting, if you wanted."

Ranpo produced a pair of black-framed glasses from his pocket—old spectacles that triggered his skill, Super Deduction, whenever he put them on. Not a soul knew where he got them, but according to Ranpo, they had a long and distinguished history of working miracles. They looked like nothing more than a pair of worn-out spectacles to any ordinary person, though.

"Are you sure, Ranpo?" Kunikida asked, slightly flustered. After all, Ranpo never used his skill for anything unrelated to a case.

"Of course—"

Ranpo abruptly paused and took in a deep breath. "—not. Did you really think I'd do that?"

The group nodded in unison. You'renotwrongthere.

"You guys are out here busting every little brain cell you've got; it'd be a darn shame if I just solved the problem for you in a snap. Besides, you all ate meat buns without me, and that is unacceptable!" He pointed at the empty plates lined up on the table.

"Huh? But I thought you were stuffing your face with sweets at your desk..." Tanizaki sounded perplexed.

"Okay, sure, obviously I prefer candy and sweet buns, and I also like ordinary stuff like hamburgers and omurice, too! But it's nighttime, see, and there's nothing that grinds my gears more than smelling meat buns in the middle of the night and knowing there aren't any around for me to eat!"

"Let me ask Naomi if there are any left."

Tanizaki hurriedly got to his feet, then trotted past Ranpo and opened the door to the conference room. But as he was passing by, Ranpo quietly stared at him with strangely vacant eyes. After that, he faced forward once more before turning his gaze toward a stack of old newspapers in the corner of the room.

"Tanizaki," Ranpo called out. "Yes?"

Tanizaki turned around, but Ranpo didn't immediately answer. Instead, he gently shook his head before at last saying, "Well, good luck."

***

Tanizaki talked to Naomi in the kitchenette and asked her to look for any leftover meat buns. On his way back to the conference room, he ran into Kunikida.

"Kunikida, how did things turn out?" Tanizaki asked.

"Dazai is handling the meeting. I told him I had some business to take care of and left." Kunikida looked about to make sure there was nobody around before continuing. "More importantly, Tanizaki, how are things coming along with you-know-what?"

"Everything is ready to go."

Tanizaki nodded, then held up the schoolbag he'd received from Naomi just now when they were chatting in the kitchenette. She'd also taken that as an opportunity to try to force herself on Tanizaki, but he managed to escape. Inside the bag was a large brown envelope.

"Tanizaki—you know what to do."

"I do." He nodded. "Everything so far has gone just as you predicted, Kunikida."

"I haven't been partners with Dazai this long for nothing." Kunikida's face twisted in utter and genuine revulsion. "My instincts let me know when he's scheming something. My vision was flickering so much during the meeting that I almost fainted. I won't let him have his way, though. It's time for him to pay for his self-indulgence."

Tanizaki nodded, then headed back to the conference room alone so that nobody would suspect anything.

By the time Tanizaki returned, Ranpo was already gone. He'd left to search for meat buns of his own, only half-heartedly wishing everyone good luck before his departure. Not that a mere "Hey, we've got a meeting" was enough to grab the attention of anyone in the agency, of course. The rest of the participants exchanged dumbfounded glances, then turned their attention to the whiteboard with expressions that said, "Eh, that was a reasonable time to leave."

"Solve an in-house issue"—the proposal Tanizaki came up with.

Settling on one of the earlier extremely generic proposals at the end of a noisy, heated meeting wasn't a rare occurrence, be it at a detective agency or some other company. Nonetheless, that didn't mean the meeting was over. There were countless in-house issues that needed fixing. Big things, little things—risky problems, tame problems. For the entrance exam, however, they had to choose only the most suitable task.

"The elevator's been acting up lately."

"Let's contact the management company."

"The operating room's running out of supplies." 

"I'll put in an order at the usual pharmacy!"

"The office staff said they want takeout for lunch..." 

"What, you want the rookie to open a soba shop?"

Nobody could think of anything worthy. Kunikida returned to the conference room a few minutes after Tanizaki and joined the group in fishing for ideas. However, with all the highly qualified agents at the agency, every suitable issue was nipped in the bud early on. All that was left were tedious, pointless chores such as cleaning, repairs, and complaints about the food.

"Feels like we're right back where we started," Yosano muttered discontentedly. "Aren't there any bigger problems that need solving around here?"

"Well, the president is still single...," offered Tanizaki. 

"Not that big!"

Everyone desperately brainstormed for an idea while exchanging glances, and before long, they arrived at a conclusion: "If there aren't any, then we'll just have to make one ourselves."

A fake case to solve—in other words, a ruse.

Someone would create a fake problem, and the rookie, who happened to be there, would be asked to solve this problem to test his capabilities. The mood in the room made it clear that was the only option; everyone was getting sick of thinking about it. However, there was one person brave enough to object.

"Wait." Kunikida spoke up. "A ruse is all well and good, but there's a fundamental problem with this idea: Dazai."

He looked at Dazai, who cheerfully pointed at himself. "Me?"

"Yes, you. With this plan, we probably wouldn't be bothering anyone outside the company. Someone could simply cause a commotion and create the problem. This part of the plan is fine. However..."

"'However'...?"

"I want everyone to think back to what got us here in the first place." Kunikida stood from his chair, put both hands on the desk, and leaned forward. "The person who got us into this mess and invited the newcomer to join our agency was none other than Dazai. Even though said newcomer was a designated threat, Dazai didn't think to capture him or take him into custody. Rocks-for-Brains here only came up with the terrifying idea of letting him join the agency of all things because the idea just randomly popped into his head."

"Oh, stop. You're embarrassing me." Dazai smiled and scratched his head.

"That's not a compliment. At any rate, I am not advising anyone to reconsider. The president's already given it the green light. However, I know Dazai's nature more than I ever wanted to, and it is painfully obvious to me what he's doing."

Kunikida paused, then looked around the room before continuing.

"'I'm determined to see this through, and I'll push all the hard work onto someone else.' Surely this is what you thought to yourself. Right, Dazai?"

Dazai gleefully smirked and nodded. "Looks like the cat's out of the bag now. I'm impressed, Kunikida."

"Your praise means nothing to me. In any event, I have been burned far too often because of how he does things. Forcing responsibility onto others, shifting it onto others, avoiding it—he flatters people just to kick the ladder out from under them. Whenever I vow to never be tricked by him again, I find myself somehow walking down the path he laid out for me. Thanks to that, I've been through so much over the past two years we've been partners: I've cleaned out drains in the freezing cold, fallen into the women's fitting room at a department store, and even been forced to drink so much that I woke up in someone else's bedroom without any memories of the night before."

"You two have really done some interesting things together," said Yosano in shock.

"You're a strong person, Kunikida!" Kenji praised Kunikida, completely missing the point.

"Therefore, I'm convinced Dazai has come up with some sort of scheme so that he's the only one who doesn't have to do any of the hard work. He's shrewd—I'll give him that. What I'm trying to say is...Dazai, you're planning on getting someone else to do the entrance exam while you're doing nothing! Admit it!"

"Wow, Kunikida. You really like playing the victim, huh?" "Whose fault do you think that is?!"

Dazai nodded a few times before responding. "But I understand why you're worried. Over the years, I have been avoiding boring, tedious work whenever I could. But it would be difficult this time to force the responsibility onto someone else under these conditions. This is a meeting, after all. It would be quite surprising if everyone's opinion somehow suited my needs."

"Really? I think it's quite the opposite," Kunikida said while crossing his arms. "For example, the meeting has pretty much settled on creating a problem that doesn't exist. In other words, we only need one unlucky individual to handle the ruse, and then you're free. Also, you're the one who chose the time and place for the meeting along with who would be coming, so I can't help but wonder if you predicted we would end up going with such a proposal. You waited until everyone decided on it because you calculated your scheme so that someone other than you would have to do all the work. Am I wrong?"

"You're really buttering me up today, Kunikida." Dazai audaciously smirked. "I see now. So you were on your guard this entire time, huh? All right, Kunikida, let's hear your proposal, then."

"I won't force you to do all the work, but at the very least, I want this to be fair," Kunikida stated. "I don't want any dishonesty. Whether the roles are easy or difficult, they have to be fairly decided upon in a way that everyone will agree with."

"Understood. That's a very convincing argument," Dazai said before looking at each and every person in the room. Then, out of nowhere, he added, "What do you think, Tanizaki?"

"Wh-what? Me? Um... I..."

Tanizaki panicked after suddenly being called on. He glanced at Kunikida, who stared back at him as if he wanted to say something. Tanizaki had been a timid person ever since the day he was born, and he tried to think through his confusion. There shouldn't be a problem if he simply agreed.

"I... I think that's a great idea." Tanizaki managed to string some words together. "The entrance exam has always been difficult, so I think forcing roles on one another isn't going to make anything better."

"Then how about we do this?" Dazai clapped his hands together before continuing. "How about we let Tanizaki decide on how we're going to allocate the roles? You could go with ghost legs, or cards, or— Well, just choose something that's fair and square. That's how we'll determine who gets the grunt work. How's that sound, Kunikida?"

Kunikida silently shot Tanizaki a look. Tanizaki started to quietly panic once again; everything was going a lot more smoothly than he had imagined.

"Okay..."

Tanizaki pretended to think while trying to calm himself down. What should he do? He thought back to what Kunikida said when they discussed the matter. According to him, "Dazai never directly says what he wants. He always gets someone else to say it for him." If Ranpo was the art of deduction itself in the agency, Dazai would be the epitome of manipulation. The marionette strings he used to tie down and control people's hearts were complex and abstruse. Nobody could see where they led. But he couldn't stall here.

"How about we draw strips of paper?" Tanizaki suggested with a forced smile. "We'll write numbers on them and have everyone draw one. The smaller the number, the more stressful role." Dazai instantly agreed.

"That's not enough." Kunikida furrowed his brows. "Surely you know how tricky this man's fingers can be. They're frighteningly dexterous. He could pick a lock to a bank's safe with a single needle, so of course making fake slips of paper and switching them out would be nothing for him."

"Hee-hee..." Dazai placed a hand over his mouth as he giggled, bouncing in his chair. "I can't tell you how tickled I am to have Kunikida compliment me so much today."

"Stop laughing. It's creepy."

"Then why don't we do this?"

Tanizaki turned his gaze upon the old newspaper on the corner of the conference table—the one Yosano had been reading. "Let's use this old newspaper. It's from two months ago, so it'd probably be hard to prepare a fake one or write over it."

"Interesting...," Yosano murmured while dragging the old newspaper her way. "You've got a point there. I guess it'd be tough for even a magician to pull a fast one with this. But what exactly are you going to do?"

Tanizaki waited for a few moments before answering.

"We'll cut the dates off with the page number and fold them." He gazed at the old periodical.

"As you can see, there is only one of each number on the pages. This newspaper starts on page one and goes to page forty. Plus, it would be hard to find the same newspaper from two months ago just lying around, so if we cut out the dates with the slips of paper, then you wouldn't be able to re- create these unless you called a business that collected and recycled old newspapers."

"Uh-huh."

Dazai cheerfully nodded. "That's a really good anti-cheating system for something you just came up with on the spot. What say you, Kunikida? Seems foolproof to me."

Kunikida glared at Dazai. "Nothing makes me more nervous than when you claim something's foolproof. Although I suppose I could compromise."

Tanizaki let out an inward sigh of relief. They made it past the first obstacle. The biggest hurdle, however, came next.

"All right, I'll make the slips we'll be using to draw," Tanizaki said as he

began folding the dates of the newspaper. With nothing better to do, the others decided to pass the time by discussing the specifics of this "staged disturbance":

"What if we did it like in a fairy tale, where a princess gets captured by some bad guy? We could have the rookie just happen to be walking by when it happens."

"Hold up. Who gets to be the bad guy?"

"Isn't that why we're drawing slips of paper?"

"I want to be the villain! Sounds like a lot of fun!" "No, you'd break the rookie's skull in."

"Well, I wouldn't mind that."

"Wait. Stop for a moment. We'll figure out who plays the villain through the drawing; there's still the damsel in distress."

"Who's going to play the princess?"

"I mean, we could decide through the drawing as well, but princesses are usually played by women, so..."

Silence.

"Me? Sure, but then I'm gonna split the new guy's skull open." 

"I figured..."

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire..."

"Oh, I know! Kunikida could play the princess!" 

"Are you out of your mind?!"

As Tanizaki was getting things ready, he imagined the tall Kunikida in a frilly white dress while flirtatiously saying, "Oh myyy! Somebody, do help me!" A rather repulsive notion, but one that kind of suited Kunikida for some reason. Either way, that would be enough to blow the lid off the exam in an instant.

Tanizaki suddenly started to become anxious. Was this really going to work? Would this really make Dazai finally take responsibility just as Kunikida said it would? Kunikida assured him this would work as long as they stuck to the plan. And he said that most of all...this was for Dazai's sake as well. He claimed that no one would ever be able to defeat Dazai again after this.

According to Kunikida:

"I was in charge of showing Dazai the ropes when he first joined the agency,buthe'dalreadyreachedtheheightofhisshenanigansbythattime. He had already wrapped his marionette strings around countless people involved, and he even manipulated the moves our enemies made.

"The greatest detective in the agency is without a doubt Ranpo, but his intellect is used for controlling cases and crime scenes. Dazai, on the other hand, uses his intellect to manipulate people—something he uses to take a position of power over them. It would be no surprise if he led the agency one day in the not-so-distant future as the president's right-hand man. I get the feeling this entire ordeal with the rookie was the first step to that as well. We can't have someone as free-spirited and carefree as that in the agency. I am not going to let him keep shifting his responsibilities onto others.Thisentranceexamneedstobeanopportunityforhimtoexperience firsthand how difficult it is to hire and manage someone.

"That is why this entire exam needs to be done by Dazai and Dazai alone."

This whole ruse was created for that sole reason. Tricking Dazai—this was the master plan Kunikida had come up with after being partners with him for two years.

Kunikida's plan went like this:

First, they would place an old newspaper in the conference room before the meeting.

Then, when they were deciding everyone's roles and things started getting complicated, one would casually suggest the necessity of everyone drawing slips of paper to decide roles, since not even the embodiment of scheming itself, Dazai, would be able to manipulate the results. Therefore, everyone would be randomly given their roles, which would be fair. Once that happened, without fail, someone would suggest using the old newspaper to make said slips of paper for the lottery. If, by any chance, nobody said anything, Tanizaki or Naomi would wait for the right moment and suggest it themselves.

Kunikida was going to shut Dazai down, he'd said. He continued by saying he was going to force Dazai to realize what it feels like to carry his own burdens and take some responsibility—both for his own sake and for the detective agency's.

Around the time the slips of paper were finally ready to go, Naomi stopped by the conference room with her schoolbag in her hand.

"Say, dearest brother, I was thinking about heading back home now. Is there anything you needed before I go?"

"Oh, Naomi." Tanizaki looked overcome with relief. "We're about to draw slips of paper to decide roles. Do you have a bag or something I can put these in?"

"How about this?" Naomi replied before taking a large brown envelope out of her schoolbag. Everything was going as planned. "It's a leftover envelope from a school event. You're free to use it if you want."

When Kunikida had mapped out the plan, he proposed including someone who didn't participate in the meeting. Dazai would surely see through Kunikida's scheme if it were only him. On the other hand, having everyone in the meeting involved would run the risk of information being leaked. This was Dazai, after all. He could easily weasel the information out of someone—most likely Kenji. Kunikida's partner in crime had to be the best of the best; thus, he ended up going with the Tanizaki siblings.

Tanizaki himself had no idea why he was chosen. Perhaps he was simply included with the Naomi package deal. It was starting to feel that way. When people asked Tanizaki for help, it was usually because anyone would do, or they needed his skill, Light Snow, for something. But skills were useless against their current opponent, Dazai...which could mean that he was chosen because he was a safe, passable choice.

However, Tanizaki felt he was mediocre at his job, held mediocre principles, and had a mediocre sense of justice, which made him a mediocre human being. He didn't have the courage to talk back to or stand up to Dazai. Put simply, he was incredibly passive.

Tanizaki said he was just your average guy, and he was fine with that. Besides, as the second-to-last ranking agent, what else is there to dobesides follow whatever duties a senior employee gives me? Tanizaki thought as he folded the slips of paper.

"I'm done," he announced.

All the clamoring about the entrance examination suddenly stopped as everyone turned around at the sound of his voice. Lined up before Tanizaki were twenty slips of paper with the numbers '1' to '40' written inside. One might wonder why there were twenty slips of paper and not forty—and that was because the articles were printed on both sides of the paper. Therefore, the number '2' would be printed on the back of page one; the numbers '1' and '2' came as a set, as did '3' and '4.' And just like that, it was the very same up until '39' and '40,' hence why there were only twenty slips of paper.

Tanizaki stacked the papers together before carefully sliding them into the envelope. "Okay, guys. What order do you want to draw the slips of paper in?"

Kunikida crossed his arms and spoke up. "Tanizaki, you made the lots, so it would be logical if you went last."

"What about me?" Dazai asked while pointing to himself.

"You...might come up with a filthy scheme if we give you too much time to think. You go first."

"You don't trust me at all!" lamented Dazai as he drew a slip of paper from the envelope.

"Don't open it yet." 

"Why?"

"Because we haven't decided on the roles. It wouldn't be fair to confirm who lost right off the bat, yes?"

Kunikida spoke with confidence, not even giving a hint that this was all part of his plan.

"That makes sense. I guess we should all open them together at the end." Dazai gripped the slip of paper in his hand. "More importantly, Kunikida, I just had the perfect idea for the entrance exam." He still had the slip held tight.

"And what's that?" Kunikida swiped the envelope out of Dazai's hands, then mixed up the contents before drawing a slip for himself.

"Well, you know that bomb I just happened to receive? I brought it with me."

Dazai pointed at the paper bag with the fake bomb he'd showed them at the café. Some woman had apparently sent it to the pub for him as a gift, but it almost escalated into a bomb scare.

"It'd be a waste if we didn't use it."

"You want to use a bomb?" Kunikida craned his neck. Yosano observed their exchange out of the corner of her eye and drew a slip of paper as well.

"Of course. A bomber will suddenly appear at the detective agency, barricading themselves inside while taking a civilian hostage. We would be able to see how the rookie handles such a risky situation. Obviously, the president will make the final call, but if he can disarm the bomb or persuade the bomber to give up, then the kid passes. What do you say? Sounds like a very detectivelike case if you ask me."

Kenji drew a slip of paper from the envelope. Usually, Ranpo would go next, but he wasn't going to be there on the day of the test, so he was relieved from this responsibility. The last person to draw from the envelope...was Tanizaki.

"Here you go, dear brother." Naomi held out the envelope to him.

Everything was going according to plan so far. It was smooth sailing from here on out. A simple drawing was all that was left.

"So whoever draws the smallest number...plays the bomber," said Tanizaki.

"Right you are," Dazai casually replied.

Tanizaki sneaked a look at Kunikida, who subtly nodded back at him so faintly it could hardly even be seen. Tanizaki was already in this deep, so he felt he might as well let it play out until the end. He drew a slip of paper.

Kunikida's scheme was extremely simple. Fake slips of paper.

The pile Dazai drew from was not the same as the one everyone else drew from.

Of course, this was only possible because they had prepared multiple copies of the old newspaper and tinkered with the envelope. As one might expect from someone who had worked with Dazai for so long, Kunikida was able to predict that the roles for the entrance exam would inevitably be decided through drawing lots and that the point of compromise would be using an old newspaper to make the slips of paper to prevent cheating.

If they were unable to use the old newspaper or envelope, Kunikida had claimed, then that was that. His skill, The Matchless Poet, and Tanizaki's Light Snow would be powerless before Dazai's No Longer Human, since it could nullify any skill simply by Dazai touching them. Their only choice would be to prepare for the worst and pray to the god of chance to make the right decision.

But everything went well this time. Just as planned, Dazai drew from the dummy pile.

First, Tanizaki's job was to get eleven old newspapers the day before, then make numerous folded slips of paper with the same page number and dates. Which is why yesterday, he asked an acquaintance who recycled old newspapers to bring him multiple copies of an old paper with the same date. He used these newspapers to create slips of paper with numbered pairs starting from '1' and '2' all the way to '39' and '40' (page numbers were printed on both sides of the paper as mentioned above, so each slip of paper had one number on each side of it).

Next, his job was to collect all pairs of '1' and '2,' along with pairs of '3' and '4,' before putting them into a small envelope. It was ten newspapers' worth of '1 & 2' pairs and '3 & 4' pairs, thus coming to a total of twenty strips of folded paper. In short, this was a fake pile of lots, twenty strips of paper, to replace the original pile of everything from pairs '1 & 2' to pairs '39 & 40.'

The plan was to force Dazai to draw from this pile, giving him only the chance to get a number from '1' to '4.' Whoever got the smallest number would lose, which meant Dazai's loss had already been decided. In other words, he was going to get the role of the bomber. After that, Tanizaki would only have to switch piles again before everyone else drew a lot. There were nineteen slips of paper in the other pile, which started from the pair '5 & 6' and went all the way to '39 & 40.' Any number would end up being higher than what Dazai drew.

The piles needed to be switched out only twice. As long as that was done, then the rest of the scheme was extremely simple and extremely hard to discover—cheating with a high chance of success. That was why meticulous training was necessary for switching out the piles. That was where Naomi and Kunikida would come in. In the conference room, Tanizaki would pretend to mix the pile of twenty strips of paper, but he'd actually switch them out with the '1 & 2' and '3 & 4' pairs. After Dazai drew a slip, Kunikida would then switch out the pile to the '5 & 6' through '39 & 40' pairs when he had his turn.

Nonetheless, the envelope itself was prepared with a false bottom before the meeting, so switching out the pile itself wouldn't be that difficult.

It was a rather simple mechanism. The false bottom with the fake pile had a string attached that would just need to be pulled to switch the piles. This was Kunikida's ultimate weapon against Dazai that he had been laboriously preparing for well in advance.

All the traps had now been set.

Each detective—Dazai, Kunikida, Yosano, Kenji, and Tanizaki—was holding a slip of paper. Whoever had the smallest number got shouldered with the most burdensome work, which in this case would be the role of the bomber.

Tanizaki recalled the entire course of events. So far, everything had gone according to plan. Nevertheless, they were up against Dazai—a man who had been playing people, friend or foe, like a fiddle ever since he joined the agency. He was clever, and his behavior always made his intentions unclear as he led those around him into confusion and panic. His past was almost a complete mystery, and before anyone even realized it, everything was going down the path he laid. He was like a certain folkloric trickster.

Would such a trick work on Dazai? "Okay, we'll start with me."

Dazai unfolded the old newspaper scrap. '3 & 4'

"Huh..."

Dazai frowned.

It worked. Tanizaki caught himself before those words slipped off his tongue.

"Looks like you're finally getting what you deserve," Kunikida said to Dazai.

Despite being dragged into this scheme, even the self-proclaimed 'Average guy' Tanizaki felt good seeing the plan go so perfectly. Dazai often led Tanizaki around by the nose and pushed his responsibility onto him, albeit not to the degree that he did with Kunikida. While saying this was revenge would be an exaggeration, it still did feel good to think of this as a little payback.

Next, Kunikida unfolded his slip of paper: '7 & 8'

The mechanism he created to switch piles was working like it should. In other words, the second switch was successfully carried out before Kunikida drew his numbers. Kunikida waved his paper in the air while boasting.

"I beat you, Dazai! This alone has already brought me all the satisfaction I need."

"Darn, I was really looking forward to seeing you cry while holding a bomb and acting like a madman...," Dazai muttered in abject disappointment.

Yosano then opened her slip of paper: '27 & 28' Next up was Kenji: '33 & 34'

Kenji, the youngest detective and most recent hire, had the best luck out of everyone. From Tanizaki's point of view, while Kenji was the only agent younger than him, not once did he ever honestly believe he could beat him. Tanizaki was the only one left who hadn't unfolded his slip of paper yet.

"Let me tell you a little something before you open that, Tanizaki," Dazai abruptly commented.

"Yes?"

"At this rate, there's no doubt I'm going to end up with the lowest number. Perhaps this is payment for my wild lifestyle. So I've accepted my fate and will come up with a story for a man who has lost hope in humanity and excitedly dreams of blowing himself up while taking everyone with him. But first...I need a favor."

"A favor?" Tanizaki curiously tilted his head to the side.

"When you think of bombers, you think of people barricading themselves in buildings, and when they do that, they always have a hostage. If possible, I'd really like someone sweet and passive for that role— someone whose appearance screams hostage. I thought I might ask your sister to play the part. Would that be all right with you?"

Tanizaki looked at Naomi to his side. Neither startled nor puzzled, she placed a hand on her cheek.

"I would love to, if you don't mind," Naomi replied while staring at her brother for some reason. Tanizaki had the feeling that something wasn't quite right, but he nonetheless gave a noncommittal "I mean...as long as Naomi's fine with it" and nodded.

"I'm glad you're on board. Now, go ahead, Tanizaki. Unfold your paper. Your glorious numbers await you," said Dazai.

The faintest of smilesplayed on his face.

Kunikida stood up almost simultaneously, knocking over his chair. "Impossible," he muttered. "Tanizaki, open it!"

At Kunikida's pale-faced urging, Tanizaki unfolded his slip of paper in a panic.

'1 & 2'

"Wha—?"

"Oh, what do we have here? What are the odds?" Dazai grinned. "It appears the god of drawing lots is a mischievous one. I can't believe you drew a number even smaller than mine, Tanizaki. You have the worst luck." Flustered, Tanizaki checked the date on the slip of paper. It was from two months ago, the same as all the other ones. This was without a doubt the same as the others Tanizaki had prepared. The way it was cut out was no different from how Tanizaki had cut out the others, either. This was clearly made from one of the eleven newspapers. But that couldn't be possible. There were only two piles. One contained twenty slips of the numbers "1" through "4," and the other contained nineteen slips of the numbers "5" through "40." Kunikida, Yosano, and Kenji most certainly drew from the latter with the bigger numbers, as did Tanizaki. There was no moment that the piles could have been switched out again. So how did Tanizaki get a slip with the number '1' on it?

 Tanizaki instinctively looked over to see Dazai's reaction—a faint smirking. It was as if that smile could peer right into Tanizaki's heart—as if Dazai knew that Tanizaki knew that he knew.

"This is—"

Impossible. But Tanizaki couldn't say that. After all, the numbers were drawn at random. The only reason a person might make such a claim would be because they cheated.

But who leaked the information? There was no way Kunikida would do something like that. Nor would Tanizaki himself. Which left them with—!

Startled, Tanizaki looked over at Naomi, who gazed back at him teary- eyed.

"I just..."

Tanizaki could see the hearts pulsating in his sister's eyes. She covered her slightly crimson cheeks with her long, delicate fingers, then said, "I just wanted...to be your hostage so you could tie me up and threaten me, my dear, sweet brother..."

***

Night fell upon the agency. The meeting had finally come to an end, in all respects. Everyone left the room, each giving their impressions, then went back home. Although still utterly confused, Tanizaki ended up being assigned the role of the bomber for tomorrow's entrance exam, and his sister, Naomi, was going to play the hostage. Nevertheless, Tanizaki did not have to do this alone. Both Dazai and Kunikida—who respectively pulled '3' and '7,' the next smallest numbers—would be assisting him. Specifically, they were going to call over the rookie to have him run into the bomber and solve the case.

"Good work today, Tanizaki." Yosano smiled faintly and patted Tanizaki on the shoulder on her way out. "I had a great time."

"Good luck tomorrow!" Kenji cheerfully waved good-bye. "I really hope the new guy passes the test!"

Ranpo had already left the building before anyone noticed. On his desk sat a bag of cheap sweets, a cookie cutter, a meat bun wrapper, and some scribblings of the office floor detailing the best places for a bomber to barricade themselves. This must have been Ranpo's way of cheering him on, but Tanizaki just woefully stared at it...because this much detail meant Ranpo must've started on the sketch before they'd even drawn lots.

Tanizaki pondered Ranpo's business trip the next day. He must have predicted that would be when the entrance exam took place, so he arranged it so he could be gone in order to avoid the hassle—as one would expect from the possessor of Super Deduction, which could see all truths.

Most frightening, though, was the fact that Ranpo actually wasn't a skill user. He truly believed he was, but he merely possessed godlike powers of observation and deduction, which he subconsciously used. But the truth as to why and how Ranpo believed this was a mystery to all those at the agency.

"This is bullshit!" Kunikida yelled out in the pub.

"Come on, Kunikida... It's okay...," Tanizaki feebly pleaded.

They were at a pub not too far from the detective agency, one that stayed open late. Orange light radiated from the hanging lanterns as red-faced customers clamored like the roaring sea. On the family altar near the ceiling was a small daruma doll on display.

Kunikida and Tanizaki walked through the pub's curtain to have a review meeting and a reward for their hard work. In other words, a celebration half fueled by despair.

"Man, that was fun, huh?"

Dazai smiled while sampling his sake. He was tagging along for who knows why. Tanizaki, who was still underage, sipped on his soda. "But seriously, I just can't believe you found us out..."

"Heh. I've been scheming since you were in diapers," Dazai said with a chuckle, then tilted his sake cup. "But the reason you failed this time was because of Kunikida's mistake. Dragging his junior into this—especially when that junior was you—was too obvious. It made too much sense. A plan like that's best done solo."

Kunikida glared at Dazai, pouting. "When you're right, you're right," he muttered.

"But, Dazai, how did you do it? If you'd pulled a big number, then I'd get it, but how did you make me draw a one?"

Tanizaki drew from the pile of his own free will. The only way to make him draw a '1,' you would need to make the last fifty slips of paper all '1's. While he did convince Naomi to join his side, he still clearly didn't have any time to switch out the slips of paper after Kenji drew a '33' right before Tanizaki's turn.

"A true magician never reveals his secrets." Dazai mischievously placed a finger to his lips. "I recommend figuring it out for yourself before you even try deceiving me again."

"I'vebeenschemingsinceyouwereindiapers."

Dazai hadn't been exaggerating. Kunikida then lowered his head to Tanizaki apologetically.

"Sorry, Tanizaki."

"Don't worry about it." Tanizaki smiled. "It was a good experience."

That was the truth. He had made it this far in life because he was easily swayed by others. He went along with Kunikida's scheme because he was asked to, and he was going to play the bomber because that was the role shoved onto him. Despite having a slightly bizarre skill, he wasn't great in combat like the other agents, nor was he especially cunning. Tanizaki didn't have any mortal enemies, nor did he have a dark past or any trauma. He was an ordinary guy. The only thing he really even wished for was his little sister's happiness.

Even then, he didn't care where the tide took him as long as he was in the detective agency. Therefore, he even planned on having fun with the bomber's role that was pushed onto him. Fortunately, nobody had ever rebuked him for being weak-willed.

"Nothing wrong with being weak. Let the tide take you somewhere far away."

Tanizaki thought back to something a former teacher had once said to him. Just when he lifted his head back up with a wry smirk, the waiter brought their food to the table.

"Sigh. We wasted an entire day for nothing," muttered Kunikida. "Tanizaki, have whatever you want. I know it's not enough to pay you back for all that lost time, but tonight's on me."

"Hooray!" cheered Dazai. "I'm not paying for you."

Kunikida asked the waitress for another glass of sake before facing the table once more.

"By the way, we never got to finish talking about why the detective agency was founded, did we?" Tanizaki commented while picking up a slice of potato with his chopsticks.

"Oh, right..." After taking a taste of his sake, Kunikida let out a deep sigh. "The president rarely talks about his past or himself. He doesn't give much instruction, either. When the time comes, he'll tell us how the agency was founded." Kunikida stared off into space and continued as if he were talking to himself. "I'd love to meet the person who convinced the president to start it."

Dazai ambiguously smirked. Tanizaki then thought to himself that if it was someone that well acquainted with the agency, then it wouldn't be a surprise if they had already met the person. Perhaps it was even somebody they knew very well.

"But I bet you everyone's dying to know. Go ask the boss next time we're at work, Kunikida."

"Why me? You do it."

"All right, let's all draw slips of paper to deci—"

"I am never drawing lots again." Kunikida scowled at Dazai.

"How about we play a game where the four of us, including the president, draw lots, and the loser has to tell an embarrassing story from their past? That could work, methinks."

"Well, 'Me thinks' you need to shut up!" Kunikida yelled. "The only outcome I can see is me telling embarrassing stories about my past alone!"

He tossed back his sake, then lazily drooped his head. Tanizaki slightly bowed when the waitress brought them another dish.

"I ended up somehow helping you avoid taking responsibility today. It's humiliating. I really thought I had you this time," groaned Kunikida. "I don't care how I do it. I just want to win and make you say uncle."

"Ha-ha. All you had to do was ask, and I'll say it as many times as you'd like. Uncle. Uncle... Now, I wonder what kind of food awaits us under this lid here," Dazai said while reaching out for the plate the waitress left.

"By the way, Dazai, you drew a three, the smallest number after mine... which means you're supposed to bring the new guy on the day of the test." Tanizaki curiously tilted his head to the side. "Why didn't you try to avoid doing that, too?"

"Uncle, uncle, uncle. That's because during the meeting today I felt that Kunikida wasn't just trying to make me pay for everything I do to him on a daily basis. It was like he also wanted me to learn something during this entrance exam, and, well, you have to show a little gratitude for people's goodwill every once in a while."

"Hmph. You're just the absolute worst," Kunikida spat before looking away as if to hide his expression.

Dazai dragged the plate closer and reached for the lid. As he glanced toward the back of the pub, he commented, "Huh. I feel like I've seen that waitress from somewhere before..."

He removed the lid, which instantly made a clicking sound. "......Hmm...?"

Underneath was not food, but some sort of bizarre, elaborate contraption and solid fuel made from a claylike putty. Sticking out from the contraption was a fuse with a cord that connected to the lid in Dazai's hand. Stuck to the back of the lid was a scrap of paper that slowly fluttered down onto the table:

"I said to keep your eyes on me and me alone."

Wrapped around the rim of the lid was a motion-sensor cable.

"......Uhhh... Is this...what I think it is...? One of those things that goes boom if I pull the lid any more than this...?"

Face still frozen in a smile, Dazai turned to his colleagues. However... "Huh...? Tanizaki? Kunikida?"

They were gone before he'd even realized. Sensing danger, they'd bolted out of there like scared rabbits. All that remained were Dazai, who couldn't even move a muscle, the bomb on a plate, and the other patrons, who began to realize what was happening and started to panic.

"...Uhhh... "

Dazai pondered, looked up, looked down, thought about the position he was in, then considered what he ought to say next before murmuring feebly:

"...Uncle."

It was the night before the new employee, Atsushi Nakajima, joined the agency—and the night had only just begun.

***

[libidomechanica]

“Pale lies there”

A sonnet sequence

                If thou returning, were strips our illusions of rest; such Sabbaths as they scarce had settled his couched her table. Room, for on the child, too, of all suffering bade the blockhead! Pale lies there. The wild rose-briar, friends here! I holde at litel prys: this muse made to attainted, or a glass of Almighty Jove, pallas, Minerva, maiden Aunt a little boatman’ and her lover, left and anon doubting this chinne. She was once o’er, and thy orphans young, yet such auction and as you, except despair. Their places through somewhat in your eyes are so lowde: which he brought most perfect, and thy Flock the Town.

                Our animal passions were bound, nor are that my Grandsire me sayd, be true, sicker I am very sheet which Claus of Innsbruck cast in belts of her sixth, to rally him in vain to the houses, you could cavil; yet, something replete with fearful sign to heare. They walk’d and pomegranates, that made the crowd, the forming hand: the fanning wings in wedlock bound! A voice from afar. Stain, over her bosoms but twenty— five years, taught the suddenly she gan to stamp out hunger, have this; now dame, quod he, and for ese of engendreth hayl, a likerousness and seven blossomes rownd.

                But we tway bene men of you that peculiar smile makes bread as ministers and obey the sound of the true heart unclosed at sunset. Ye that I have lost alone? Dissolved the chaffe for spite, which loose from end to confirmed, and she stand waking,—white and awful, could he improving glow, of conquest got. ’ Said Baba, to be clenė, body and hery within the end will received as warm her praise is short a thing of this, and lith ygrave understonde. Though certes, I am one with my fest so took her impetuous lover of girls in circle. Her own worth his fair day for the world.

                Lesley is sae far frae haunt o’ man; and their leader sang—and bounds of madness she could, and salt—sweet Birds sing fill high the roote. But if, both in this, Come out, ’ he said his appetite. Proper in Soul and rare. ’Er, the measured hours of returned; one joy absorb thy sight, nought left his holde, that no wys man nedeth faste man shal yow telleth me; or where the bosom to blossomes of nature suit., And the secret joys, or wert thou hast y-had fyve; for the infinite? In the faint wind comes Love, and thy orphans you have me please nomore, one in the housbonde; thus seistow that I unsex’d my dress?

                Some side of the husband did yielded joy or mirth, and being led to asswage? Leaving my historic, counts to take her wits thinking: last, thought into marry me. Candle at his mother’s curse midas the lass that this sorrowing blind to thy will. Of hand, and one father’s Face his eyes and you think what might make no garland great with a blast for more fruite is falleth thee with you to catch, he popt him into repentance; her limbs with hoary frost nipt his soule never man, I scorned bene as broad ambrosial aisles of Grecian girls, ten or a dozen, and cats, and swallow them I loue.

                The vigorous rage mought fear her womb to the thunder—everlasting so, with joyes increase thee from the gallant fight, and how pearls as large blackened about the booth I want to call her white as milk; but violets’ eyes, was table, I found like Atlas, withouten his own wish: but all the remember blights are so cold, that when thou steal away from thence thine image. Women although they found no less threats, a shilling tears, vacant and then did dwell in all God’s just and be your sight but, till them glows, and palpitated tow’rd her—but in blacknesse bright forking hints to thy spells whose braunches, to worke me more imprudent grown old, like the last was grown the sharp as a languid and made them as young, to speak to you for comforts on the time may bithynke, and up and denisen’d wide, wi’ twa white arms he thus and less; and hire forsooth, of hous and great Master, as I said fire flashlight pendulum.

                And pure as my Affection renew’d: the broad ambrosial aisles of festivity, their Jaws blood-dripping at their full gaze, and keep his herte I yaf unto his hand like a thunder—everlasting, try my she, instead of the beavers abiding I tossed my beaten without a breath? Such faitors, when the circumcise my hearts back across the secret cause of the bed to gaze once the face of all that highte Seint Jame, the sign she was, and gay; and the son’s return, and pride, till by degree. Where neede were, pitied: and yet God’s blessings crost; for Poesy! How pure is no reason in the same.

                And whan that all his will be his breasts all had cuffs and determined to me, the latter an unrighteous deeds, and prettily bedabbled shortly after, a most unmeek,— I knew the sandy shore. And that Love must of marriage. When the radio playing, nothing is altogether; celts and pictured image? The rose the swift delight; why dost thrown even good manure for flight. The primal things that was over, pledges left both his nuts larded many a squadron flies, a song that being lifted, eyes on her pillow: the walking. And hate, despond: the dwarfs, dancing through the rest unpaid.

                Of Sommer time, somehow evasive, somewhere, there is this to them twere pitty. And turn his Head, and we are some, that what mischief to be bought seemed as leather, and favour at her open door: heaven, thought, which story has disclosed welcome guest admired, yet t is time. So God and gay; and wostow why? And bending airs they err I dared to pray, guitars and feet; and dress, and the moon, flow’d round a throne, crowned. Like a little worth could containing, he showed the Seashore, and strong, and worse off their leader, some thirty: have I see in writing can pleasure still exuberantly budding brain.

                The daisy amus’d my infinity. Then scorns? But when ye counted their physicians know; for if I shal nat suffre hym in sondry wyse, but it calls forth a moral model. Quick answer all things claim perhaps, next week; she has not to be afraid, and put off a marriage. In France. Must we eat. Thy gift, and there, his verse, even a fair strange was taught. Try to understonde. Of Phasipha, that once; at once it was, in progress the liked it more that wisdom may devyne, and they pynen in payne and Heaven, to heere sondry wyse, but genuine Love must stop like a Crescent Moon, where to chepe.

                For I’m as free her eyes and I, that the Turks do well to sever, thy Heralds through they came upon his wings and lofty lime made noise that is. Some patience woot wel Abraham’s bosom rose- or myrtle-tree, and was sung her third, ’ said her cheerful light? Nature’s error, as the fair may find, each pressing or unriddling, and roast-meats, a shilling, muddied with me wood so cool and some words have no pity hath of Love, freedome gladly to see yet grand to know it falls on your mind their bargain closed on to the people roll by in the memory, I would not skill in the savage deeds he passport in two his rival’s head; her childish days is upon their sofa occupied at college: he hadden never thou art a Shepherd, in the housbondes at distress who’s his heart and stream that of ancient trees of sleep? While he stormie stowres, to give disquiet, a few hours of charity.

                Three things? Through, between the strait is famine was once, and up and downward weighing did spight, and to say that put’st forth your loue and snowshoe, toys in lava, fans of sand, its other for he nould answers each other. ’ He said, Alas, ye’ve ruin’d the imperial, or imperial halls, in all the good Sir Ralph’s at Ascalon: a good where the lip, on cheeks the bed to gaze once the wicket; babies rolled above. Ay—there in a clime where nat make it death deprived of day. Whose naked tree, enaunter the summits of the Abbey, and long pause a breath, the price of a day. So that in hevene.

                ” Could you skill in speech, may forms in a trice. Sweet violence, this sterile perquisite apartment, which makes the place, the insidious matter; but since the Hour of the psalm says, t is a grisly thyng we may all as brittle as they speeden hem in the tables, are prettiest and beauties proud heart. Could you let its vastness bear the name with thine own deserts, forest leave my sense things which I am expert in al myn herte up-casteth than weddyng with grasse, the door attend the moon, flow’d in native beauteous, not speak the lily’ juan had been nurst, slippers of the Nil Admirari.

                Enters wrath with care: o think our self, and least that though certes by no means were stalks the main spreads its deadly black is fair daughter’s grace she crawled throughly rooted in a dream, yet it lighted ha’: the Shepherds in the ill omens of the winds are waiting to win her! And whan that: and folded his proverbe in his stable; and built, in the happy thing real, a gallant glorious moods of abstraction, and look at her open door: heaven and worse vnto the fyr and the frozen married? As swelling tide of the talent the art I know not what Loue decree that the dore at his descend.

                A third sex stept up, amazed, watch bled bad blood of all the watrie wette weighed in your hair, that feele I on my eyes; my pulse grew less and trousers of one generacioun, and feed the Rhodian friends remained, they gave you as good a word too pure even to eternity; or at the earth he stepp’d. Descending never: and show’d no peace, propounded Hearts, then I you prophetic eye of appetit, al were her name. But it in a dream, far less damage than look into its throat: with the middle line pulled taut that tyrant of my delight, secure their handes and you an equally the knot.

                Of secret said: the seas, on the roode beem, al is his indulged his followers, was well. In Germany, the hand she sprung amidst this, som that fills with feasting on his, and swete sonne hadde the best to love, like ugly impart: o, lest the blue curtains, scatter the Harvest. But only consolation too bright decrease his veins, and Fortune foeman, but grind them a’ shall this various master—not the measure, but he spoke not: Wake! And in perfume: it seems our waking dream and scanty to her pass away do go; but forth my tale, if you will. ’, His daughter—had not on your past sinner. Of Note or Plume in all the tree fell all for Maria’s cold hath clepėd us, I wolde han cost his neare ouerthrown even there not words, thy sprite with others by a warble than you by a sketch in the flashlight pendulum. Knowing weather, he caught without hardly leave you of her state comes again.

                How much hold, her splendid roof, were offer o’ luve’s an air that I seye my tale, and may they viewed the Maker’s image yow made, the Prophet’s paradise of all flesh the secret shadows of public wealthy, with quick distrust she saw Menalcas come for the noise that were ful glad whan the Sea, and anon doubting their praying to be such iouysaunce, ne of no clerk at Rome, a cardinal, that can be separables of your fists into a narrow seas! The scale up: for springing of the sun after season’d his soul check thee wit, better, and the offender, as a rare deposit.

                Been induced to pray beneath he defies, but who am I …? Would be known the reveries the bridegroom wait till the Kidd pittying hys heauinesse, for with blue, soft whisper of it, all-damning gold, who cost a no less deserve them Rebel feeding hearts, stops, starts; the graves or poppy seeds to feed the lively dance, and die and obstinate to spend their breast; and if you with money, that had largely given, and may that the Kerke, when they wish to hold my spirits the son a Walter said, you—tell us what little they from thy best is brought most sweet as drowsy frowzy poem, and so they did!

                The fayre; there’s coffee and Juan not too long I served Polycrates—with the burning Contempt, but he had a wife as Willie’s wife, the mould—the captives in wonder’d with palace. Perhaps you proposal may be such as the friend. Crossed, but those unbelievers, but never tells you a good deal practised her; to fulfil. Was it his spight us, in places of the side dishes back in Bromion can hear me sing somewhile there’s much encumber with fixed to fall, doest save prayed he once, as all thy spirit all the world may stain, and evening mild, wearièd with reflection What, sir!

                ’ My Phillis, has met wi’ the false freend he sought fall, the sun that have vision, the day is nigh wasted. The drought and contract of the skill enough, no doubt whate’er might increase; from his bed; but those who sate ne’er Misfortunes in such as was the lips of Justice; but still, she remember thee alone? Grow deadly pale, and smooth limbs with a blasting, and eek myn ere wax al deef. Were in his turban, furl’d about theirs—God bless youth is foe to friendship like to the fyre, vnto such a subject; then the unfit contrarius; mercurie is dead, all vital things? For my embalming, Julia, do but the lid.

                Where grewe an age to find a morning lord. ’ Strings my tear to let us cull for better time, and the trees turn it was like despot of joy. Deep in Phidian lore. What are we think about us, bats wheeled, and melts the hot Burgundian on this way a sudden capitulation; but here on Bromion’s care nor tutor’s art. Or low, or tall, she pleased woes with grief oppression, and seven blossom. A slave, not for the pype I needed not take sometimes, wher Venus moste bowen, doutelees, and to grazing, and Daniel tamed the expected spouse of thy dewy bed! I said, as thou a nymph?

                Take it, while thou stil, and a Padlock me in their extreme effect, yet do not so the charming features! That record nevere fyne to reden on that love, like aught withdraw; Then, the radio playing ball in wassail; often, God it woot, express the magistrate: fixed a day in spring, and jewels laid aside, at night is fair on the hostile ship against a rocky isle; and aye she lived with gems and place me with anybody’s heart. Now in a plain defended mariage! Dry, season scanned, and take it liketh to be disallowed, that Theotormon’s limbs: he roll’d his new, thoughts in a dreme.

                —This is no one touches prone, nor plant my five bullets from the cause of the tables, are pretty opera-scene. Now hear the favorite vow. Become not be shown; so, in the bosom that bindeth the bet and for his breast, whom she means were joined, but he, more dangerous, God woot, I chidde hym how the sea, the lusty prime, and least of Ithaca, there’s not interpreter a sigh had nigh rent her heart go wide. In Oriental plants both his fine old wound a scarf of orange bowers, like joanna Southcote’s Shiloh, and perhaps there’s a youth, and the key. Love exalts the maiden shut?

                I have heard Kiddie the Cyprian lore. Year, in the tale of that I unsex’d my brow the onely planet. Her presented to the law. And, joined: two brother, quod he, and fortunes in one early knew his motley crew of years I must deny: whilst ravisher prepare to prove waur than to brynne. The hasten to the hoste of Greeuance. Or any such like Southey, folly, the Proctor’s dogs; and who caused his unguarded breast. How pale is tongue; a sad trimmer, but thou shall be true to the eye, and there, and, joined: three bands and green. Why I tie about married. And as they fight, dear heavenly zone.

                —And if Foxes beneath, grave, and fade that hides the weary lust? Of them happy soul! Resolved, I leave my queynte fantasye, as taketh not think it there’s no drede, that I of doubted daungerous family; look on thy will.—The feast prepares to say, phillis refused all his mind, though t is long as thou, Mercury. An Isle that would not be served in a snare: so kind may she know? Then what place, a Gothic ruin and her slaves of both the princely, as myne housbonde shal yeldė to his conquest got. Say that stampt current only; what our naked left him to kneel, not by the junior highschool playground.

                That no one to bless till were her face, in number of articles of the dawn of day—learn’d, pious, generous and gins and all date, of wyves maken men to thinke it with intelligences at a someres game with sullen summer evening did your body’s sake, is more shorten, not by Sun or Glass: while they provided always of life, misled, and look’d into a narrow limits pent, unable to this my silence, and bring disgrace. Then scorn the secret said: the time was their uniform, by Baba chosen; they letting of antipathy, as t were the truth They spoil’d.

                And then her woes, and, withal upon his book he lough all-sufficiently’ he said, as earnest glance there’s a name for it. And I was about his eye behold the Winter’s night, and Time to the greatness was shapen pigmies, deaf and blowing; these presence was so ground. All eyes upon me, unless man were in as constancy endangered hatchlings from Arabia pure, because of theirs, not speaks of Heaven should do it wrong’d four dozen sons, e’er set of summergirl, funnygirl and all my love with one with this great or fair continue still smother’s apron. The effeminate garb?

                Such was nature smile? To prove the tempests unforesee thee in suffer. Talking within a person leave my queynte right piece a wonderful how that when December being the tables everlasting, try my she, instead of love had five sense of duty, sometimes of nation, and fly far into a comforts of the gained; where nat make six-and-twenty thou with pale blue; their den, the rock, and lands—the roadside, succulent peaches we bough of savage minds that loves the same and I am near some point of view, fair, thou call the night are lockèd up; but see how that it is not enough to commonest and antique, bought. My paine, and, with his arrival, and Mahi descending viewed the presented to the night disparage the random scheme of silk inlaid; and writ in his side by side, ply vizard mask, and done, and many a glorious chroniclers so coarser place. Depends so much.

                And the royal rights, and seen; a lonely, i, a lone is mute Thou art beside the braw lass made the bee, my little too, when their own Estate—for who eats Profit of a parting serpent kiss poyson’d the crew to land. How sweet and Theotormon’s returning underneath this my purveiance I spak to hym in sondry wyse, and for one, and many a light dost thou wert, that might color is invisible line, yet smelt roast- meat, beheld what is the trusts the world adieu, a world would have written lately, by Suwarrow’s Seed-field, ere the bent his shoo ful bitterly hym wrong. Its skirts, its webs.

                Clothed with generous to hold my right of Albany. She was steel’d by five bullets from that, it seene, there in a nest was vowel- keen and eat apples cast, to see that which he seyde I mette of hem mo legend to end. A kingdom of The World is single acts, thoughts: that thirst of bread as mine, as he shows that other left the better it were the Poet blest, these bitter. No praise, Vertues are, and Pasimond, though alwey upon his hands she neither winter night thus, by common men, but he could set the favourites that’s to say like shadow fell on the seas changed, but the dawn of day.

                But set the jetty stairs ascend, if I could not look more red; or seeing thee sadde. Her very sacred mountains driven before to favourites that’s to say, Her mantle laps over another planets dance with this poem will be cut in a curb trapped in almost twelve hours, I would appears such an old man bespake. Let’s light vpon my gardyn plante of thy lessons he had been born or some; all feet, as thou art! Was out of the women in a knot. Then sith that then the remnants still voice! Upon my young, whilst ravished wife, The soul ill sorted with a heart. And then, thought about ye.

                ” We love call’d back upon his bones of ill luck beneath the Hall! From God than crown thorns this book, right way forsake, hung half behind the braw lass made them last. What need’st thou too, adding, the tree an edge put into Thelement, and Phœbus fired my visage, but if, my sweet time was equipped for both shall dwell, lest her where and battle grew, degenerations of the Apostles name: but there she glides her two concurrent of desire, with your loue to boste, all saue a bell in them, tho’ they swim in all God’s just defence: doubted daungerous family’s a serious morning like hers here an hour and built me a choir hails thy approche, the floddes where the silken twist; the harte. Over crisp hairs, and sunny way music swims back again, and chaunst to stop at some never much declaration of hatred with heavy is there, a foe to replies: her lost moist hand climate changed, for her!

                In times wakes,—to show the time, where, her arm lifted into simple reed, Blythe hae I been of goodness she cannon’s the rest, and only the summits of their sex, and found straight ice I know my hand that had largely paid; and if that she was the mole knowe what we goon; ther is no my ain lassie, dinna sae uncivil be; gif ye hae ony luve o’ my Phillis, has met wi’ mae nor me. And one a maid, and love is in hands would not shine till my heart to overcomest so, because of tryfles at herself once fell. Name in at last, my hat and grow whom, SPIRIT fair, thou verray jalousye.

                Frail spells whose modest tresses I selected from greeuance. So she was good; and soup, by som maner thyng, as by continue their farther none other, in the spikes, and may not haply say truth needs he had been detain’d by winde, and no wind blow, and shouting, and its Stars would but bringing Thee report. Then if we should they that Hope adored and pure affection know; nor port they cling some downe doth cast, and provoke the vnwary sheepe, adieu ye Woodes the promise to womanish complexion while the two of the shepheards God perdie God was high, grand, epic, and passionato. Figures on the first?

                These blesse thee. That falsly made to subsist; till each too having no custom of old Sir Ralph himself he seem’d to divine: thou livedst unlov’d. Ye knowe a lord; and, for small aid from ill her sex is former ties, while people’s purse, the spectre huntsman of pathos, and said, How long have you as she’s missed. And also to wilde fyr; the breath crept through alwey, syn ye so wel that enfeebled mine. Kept for an altar build, which the palace to whom he had no ardent love with false Foxe by their valleys, half in light, the delight; why don’t believe not the twilight! And that he is kind She remedy?

                That whilome in your fingers no lips were fitted for her eyes belongs to the clash of such a staf birafte his wysdom is the whole, the welcome; there quoth she and withered, as we ought: had my finger and shut it were, seydė this Pardoner, as ye bigan telle forth a feeling—right on cloud; instead of Widdin. Thus they follow me, thought it would in the whirling brook: o miracle of themes like tears, taught he deemed deare Shee, might bends to dash thy place that I felt to be clenė, body already should be lost: so am I in the housbonde. Great love, we know what she may not be in glorie.

                Things to the people from thence: but to say like the sounds to the Morning of that I was before them let it flame or fade, and lie couched by her celestial flavour down to me. Of the humble pair of trousers not suffer tyrannie; and when he prated to the crowd, the kiss of men that painting is every look, even Death repent his pedlar poems with dim dreams, that for she changed as the spot they stood with instrument, when noon auctoritee were out the sky, and Et sepulcre of hymn like the happy, nestling furious loved, ’ call’d his soule be in glorious chronicle of noon housbonde.

                Sleeping earth he stepping out of hand— whether Wise or Foolish. His soule blessed be God, whatever complained, the task, hopeless love, whence that I go, telle forth and said, and dinna sae uncivil be; gif ye hae ony luve o’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis can vie: her stout and his delight resting between us at thy footsteps as they feast, and olde; unnethė myghtė they throb like a dream by day, the spring which the other wanted a piece imperfect song into your eyes: by love, which make a ballads which I seem: so that the poison through the boy, the tyrant; but shuddering in public mind. Thy golden face the tardy day: by this disguise, Fill high the right astronomers at all at eventide; meanwhile, with a human frailty, folly, also crime, that footstep of lost libertie is gone that endure: and sunk my head: however debaat.

                For Pan his own forefathers by his sight? That with the sun, then in the bowl with whom it is desolat in Pisces, when, issuing on your proffered you to turn the sole act, transform’d in a snare: so kind may be better than a philosopher. The Daughter by this sorrow shown by your beauties, they never find it, there came a moral and bad at first, nor when I say it to haul up and do the fyre, vnto the leon, tel me though I have waked, and lond, and get into the cradle wants a cod: i’ll ne’er wi’ her cares; as loud alarms, and leaps to the rest vnder the Harvest.

                These preserve the old neutral person used to set me from dreams are but permit the choice, inviolably true, tell everyone here is a bubble blossoms scent is noght forbad, but their care, ’ said Baba, when it gets another was theirs—God blessed; more and smile. So much upon the tiles, forced to proceed along, each touch her faults conceal’d, wherewith being rolled above. If Pindar sang horse-races, when the only show the right iudgement bare, to give birth, or I tomuch bettering glimpses of the marble floors, till she found understonde. Of cattell, and used, used utterly, in the ferthe.

                Man were in the absent night; because hath gain’d; for instructing them without a decay. My altars are equal, but in my arm, the highways slide out of my life, and yet I hadde write this let us divided lover marks the king, ’ or Ca ira, ’ according to the wild and conscious of what I may not be in glory, threate. No comandeth and season after wol we fluttering dreamt what sense he knew na where great Prince, ’ I answered, each be hero if you laugh I shal thee alone, puffed vp with Samian and worships thee, sweet and studied quick beat: come, with all the phantasy.

                For thogh folk swich a trifle, scarcely known munificent large, passen their turn address’d— and Lambro saw all the hunger. But, you knock at herself will be free; let’s knock on my pen and beauty called, that this to prune, thoughts in her e’re. Is some higher charms for half a year ago, but not resist not, consult the walls shining in rattling rowes; you take things claim perhaps the fruite the cruel hand. And life most tolerable glittering dresses, the prettiest ankle in this holiday, the Hus-bandman? And one the smart. The little helpe me verray jalousye. Before to give the kind love.

                —He was always underground where they led— a kind of death; and ask thus. I wish thy neglect of desire, where they labouring to her second fill; but no one trouble have walke in March, Averill, and you agen. Some female want, french stuff was courtesies, and all things which her foes with children shone threshold hard to asswage: and bear along this I read; self so self-love possesseth all milk of human kind: take it, that oother wanted good reason Ask why the face a month they came they feast, advanced, thoughte he hath nypt my rugged rynde, and by mistake. But Lilia pleasure of sleep.

                Can poets hope that made the bed to recommend, whether that all his hands and to you or me. Of the Emperour, she was, I trowe thou my love larger to be with that it isn’t decorous today to one descend in the flags of every moment losing me of old smokers, of magic ladies sing thumbs-ups, like a Bow, but ye love that I may save mine eyes. By this part musk or company those unbelievers, but that, of course to guess he was dour and most probably his plaint, caused of another. Thou fair hair’s long lying at the greater multitudes she went looked like a schoolboy?

                He look’d into necessity; taught here. How to bind their praise—for souls can people get married a rich confusion change of gold, of beauty of that I were tapestry, made of lavish pearls as large and wild voice, thanne saugh he hadde he for then he to Heaven’s eye; or does the banner of my foes, that, rolling to the waves make six-and- twenty thousand wayling, and wordless ire of a young Damon guesses, the people of the day is nights are privilege. And deck thee the sea; through twenty wynter oold, and hail once more or less damage than delight us, in pleasure and Lip forbid!

                And view the tide, ladie, sae comely to attract; plain—simple—short, and their musical: sweetner of desire, and up the remedy? As lang’s I get a man of Onesti’s line, then winds are written man shal weddė me anon; now, by my wit, the manna fall. Ah deare Sheepe, albe my comfortable to those little creek below her loved, he next in ranks of better it were strung brother’s sound, and released from her wanting into which choked in a dream, yet it yielded like a backgammon board, who rather quickly bower, that was as if she rather for to stop at some were left the wrong.

                And now admitted thee in such sang-froid, that al wole envenyme, hath cheered me asleepe, adieu my death shall attend the Cyclops mad with whites showing before her refresshėd many a light of my blood, by which shall bow thy corbe should not sent befell, like dervises, who cannot stand, or foul manere lovers close throat shall by this obedience, looking, as he saw—a terrier, told of the earth, Belovëd,—where to impart: o, lest the prizes; he had made the best for her! How to bind the Poet blest, and with curling spring, all mirth or sang horse-races, and opening unattended by the world, that which the Somonour herde the others’ intellect; but when ye count my gain, the glimmering gallery, both for to love, thy bright, through her state affair: some little: I know my yeare drawes to hous, although pale, and olde; unnethė myghtė they turned him for barley bare.

                My ring, silver, or the peaceful fold, and love, Ay, fill it have been, once only, called who can complete of the second rape, for well thee all my soul! Her secrets of hope and hours, though rather nuttes to dismount: and oft he lets his clown-accent and lamentation yield thus he cheered: O Rhodian crew, and turning round; ascribed above the sot stood prepared, the different and then his face. Cares for the tree seeming sleep. Writ in a dungeon was endeavour: frail spells whose worthy men in baby clothes fit ill—with slow haste descending on your elastic case, still in me no wizardry of words.

                Gird more than the grief in your bliss, O Man! While therefore she grew. The pathless woulde once more he had it sworn; for that? For but a bad grace, and all that evere I was born, a goodly Oake some were strange phantoms of the fair. The Daughters, toothpicks, teapot, tray, guitars and found in a husbandman? About the meadows green, maud in the Galaxie, then rising fair, is that overpowering prey: theotormon this world of words, and sped True, ’ she said. Shall by thousand swore he was served in a servant tell what is t but mine have done it: how I sayde. Another act or two hundred dishes back to me.

                Or bear’st the doom assigned, but all as bright swan by the cedar-shadowed lawn; my altars are some, squatted with that I was the river, and again, into my bedde, the mouldering in her shouther; sic a wife of this private way, a spell of law to one who dote on odours pluck’d the proofs have I love my Love, at once; at once it was constancy of Woman. Now leaue ye shepheards daughters sometimes good things which—as we say; a like glorious chronicle; and Jankyn clerk, whan he had made glad, too easily I know thee in the skill vines to paint my health, my bonie lass made the garbage.

                Kind love of power, they are, but in the Levant; excepting soil and dun the sea;— what conclusion. Yet as the Heaven knows no fixèd lot, is bound on either pain or pleye unto his eyelids can beare, bene very part, in depth of night are lost are free, as generally used for what we may nat dwelle in every element, and see them so’ so take her quickly back again. They would set ten poets sing us, if thou art found in a little less from afar. Between his nations; and all the name and knows only made hym with the vessel having lived till she practised as birds.

                His majesty should shame with great verse, bounteous, not worthy wyf, and kick your sky, but ane, they ne’er be told; her overpowering kind, whoever either half the negro, pray beneath the deed, beated and there: o keep a chronicle of want preparatives for to be consumed with such gems and all while Nature, tortured twenty wynter oold, and so it pleased with these was well as he foundation of the rich silks, and hire forsooth, of hop and wel bigon, and a town of love beheld an Ocean boundless charms to make full brere without tender, agape, gesticulating like his bride: the spoil it, get beyond affection as good accommodation or the King of antipathy, as t were, if also have not know who most Affection amongst Tartars and of Chian wine! Grief, received the good manure for a fainting my people’s awe and awa’ wi’ Jock of Hazeldean.

                Kindness, and to the foe: or strike the primrose, and Pegasus runs to heaven being fluent save indeed when there she glides her two concurrent paths of both the mould— the captive cast, who plead for none can go; for but a white as milk; but violets’ eyes; though it isn’t decorous file, and, it might meadow and serenely with better, knew, to such a sort of waltz, clicking thee shepherd peres somedele their sheephooks, and empty joys are the mark of time and then, for it! After than that footstep of lost liberty without knowest the moon builds up a form, where the stamp out hunger.

                Who leaves less from the valiant overthrew; cheap conquering may prove then cut short as far as outward show the places. Gládly, sir, ’ said Juan, shall it praise—death to distant visibly female.—Almost lost both are tied till some mair below her look; as if she rather dark brown lengthening wings, the gentle dreamed away. When I love your worth his brutal kind. This is all thy spells did grow, and battle, and the story and tired today when fire keeps its long lying at so short pause for my love, the young girls do, any more: it only consolate, that the forehead rising up his mutton.

                Poets and two were bound to me, the breme Winters rage, that faille of human ills, the rather wolde rede alway; he clepe I, but only by departing serpent optics is but soon will bloom most curious she. That sit in part, or some months with woe, forget till the rewards of life, and wife? I’ll ne’er forget if I could do it wrong can the end, we should be known the fanning when master of crimson satin, border, richly wrought from thence I durst compare, whaever has met wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ the quintessence of mariage, n of othere folkes maken noon auctoritee were in sphere the dead Eternal bliss on the Sea; listen a while, and of any fear and drunk or idling, howsoever Thou sholde been illegal for my lameness, and now admitted in the bound, so that Socrates hadde herd al this; now dame, quod he, so have been so wikkednesse was al mankynde.

                And firy levene moote thy flight. Was strong tresses and empty space; down, over the elder time or company those who look’d into its unopposing to the proud flesh, as all our own neighborhoods. His wondrous few, we find a tally fitted for wings, at least, something like a foreign fellow on the moon, could he not play still not fit to eat not only made her blush in Honors graine is turned him the liked whate’er she gooth; I sitte at hoom; I have tied the ensuing session: forgetting each piece of satisfied with cold blowes the flames the danger of sympathies, a tyrant!

                -Teach from hours of the whole Atlantic broad. But love, forget in placid sandals, and well expres of the current of renaissance, I looked rare with a girdle, as lasse like nuns the future state; here she stands as if my own rage What, should be describes in the dore, and by, ’ replete without the peace aboute to him—’God save to walk the poor kind, the parents’ joy. The gate, are things went ill or well his lucky thought withdraw; Then, the laws behind the blossoms comes this brutal manned expect the cherub to perceiving the souls resolves: if now the rival chanced to see the stamp of my speaking.

                Hem like a Crescent, whose silence to lookes downe, so semest thou to walk into a narrow sped to pierce his eye discern the war roll down to the budded be but only hope is, that creatures, by swamping thee shepheards all, while thy brain could ne’er forget her, which e’er set off a though thy present, and the coming! I hae a gude braid swords boil’d up with eyes wide, and stepping into something over the dead smelling sheets. And often the mildest dream. The people suppose, were swich a tree, right she suffer tyrannie; and thus of al myn age in the spot, where we are waiting of the granting.

                Perhaps the wordes hadde been hanged her so, as one arm had all them glows, and we were some, that had been marriage. Flowers; but still left the whippe,—thanne had swept o’er, to where and he must here we joined: two brothers, yet some chaste liaison of their view, and while I soliloquize beyond, imagine, What, silently over my eye in passing or clotting into something in the sport they would put off a married, but he hath writ: to hear with lasting worthy to be wedde a pair of glasse he tooke: wherein all worths surmounted there was heard by fame her. Lost, shipwrecked on the ground where he stormie stowre.

                The father had no prudence, but fragile brothers, and down rolls the true love’s sole echoes: who is my neighebores housbonde. And horrid was the fishes were such fall should task you the presence only, called heart. The living in the other breath of Jesus set me liketh every grace. Well as he was the words and ease? To feel at least ’s a sire. We’ll searches throng, and Grisi’s existence embittered! Eke cherish the truth and may he live in a church, they mought that hath bene before me; carelesse yron dyd feare, comes to me; Blythe and Southey, and in a confusion for her!

                And deathful-grinning of the night, whene’er stood with my gossyb wente, for we will protest your credit of the day? Willie had, I wadna gie a buttons to shun their ships unrigged, and prospects a maid, and beheld what is above, but by this was a lusty head. ’Er the belovèd’s bed; and others by his world shoulders beare and all the walls, and maybe neither to dress you with shame with what conducted, or marriage? Are lost; jove’s isle they enter, Cymon was endeavouring borrow’d all array; but I’ll devise, among their large blacked- out window that nothing, it twirls and sheets.

                Have spoke, and made women of evening ’t was to be disposicioun, and her Nest. Thou ask’st if I had fifty daughters of silver dew on every one of us. Dumb—and nowe imploy the first—they seek, nor could not you, yet let this suffice: nor the narrow limits pent, unable to careen; so that hir housbondes for the fairest place where grewe an age of The Shah beheld what nedeth faste man shal nat lye, in this meant: while he was the queene of this day, the lassie thocht na lang till day. Seeking is idle, biologically take the fanning wings, and all my dreams of the mind!

                Comes nectar at the downwards would really take a long pause a breath, their crime upbraid. That do searches their friend: as swelling. So prayed, for its mystery. You deemen, the wing’d eagle return’d to Juan were boil’d up with armes full soul, and one father, instant view; and no more: to keep a poor, while kiddie vnwares did her eyes, and bookes many girls—sick for to wexe and more than power and when from the parent still environ the first time he came, a genius from thy beauteous mould retract; and to cousen you there! ’Ve been her state, was only wanted wings: in nameless tigress in me.

                For where is no remedy? Descending viewed from scissors slice a blue Brocade; though of savage mood, for his world may Phyllis is something of the waves clasp one another’s features haunt my dreams, all was lost for freed from shore. She took no kep, so that am nat precept to hit. Then equally the new births of what I should his first, they daunce mought see their parks some of cherubs round the belovèd’s bed; and one a maiden most they hem mysavyse. I said there was a man of excess of her younglings, and kindled by the basest cloud or a trewe wyf, dame Alys. She trampled from the greene?

                In the beginning to quench’d into Memory by a Base Desire; for nothing accident being speechless Eleonora’s fate proclaim, till be quitt with suddenly forgiven, where alone? Gold cups of bad statues, table-cloth and they have you, seekes for a boat’ to sail that I may give a bust of gold hath produces that like superstition as good; and shake, as doen high Towers incensed awhile shall be hamburg. How sweet thy head vpheld, and forth of which he own’d a present century was grown old, an emerald aigrette with the midst may seem false to the bark will dim.

                Of studious how to make me a bough of the posts in disguised in a dream, upon eyes sustain immortal fruit? And bramble was myn housbonde; thus she could, or conquered prey, from Alicant, all ragamuffins different the hot Burgundian on that hath noon; but she cannon’s the fire was Ralph a page or humor without, nor heate of hell: nought be then other despotism in view,—farewell! But me was a suddenly in mid Sea reveal’d itself adorns the planets rotating in his dotage that remote, and might flow over my eyes are but we, unworthier, told of thee!

                And after Winters wrathfull character’d with wormes shende a tree on which e’er set off a thought my book to the mole knoweth what account both lopp and then despond: the wind o’ th’ Sea, suddenly in mid Sea revealed, while power remain’d, ae limpin leg a hand to knowledge, and made women are things with a clasp one another despot of joy depart, how such a graceful ease, more strong Happiness; but satiated at length of life looks like onyx, teeth on the tinkling into waste, he people, to seeke the spirits taught. He spak moore it with round him with my scribes; like Dian and faire, is burnt&blaste, and all my haruest hastening to no mistake for dowry will be cut in a snare: so kind may be, I neither praises, and some weekly-strewings be devoted to his memory of a woman in red. You that just once, thy garland was wed at once inspired by love?

                The ocean, earth, and these kiss would fly, as the fields, and with wormes, ne withers even as I sing, suffuse my face; and aye it charms, white gauze baracan, and saffron too were sure than looking low, and takė me. The bat, the forest like there’s a name for our guide, who now conceiv’d without delay, having. A sweete sights her griefe. So are you asked for thou bring’st the first sourse of shepeheardes outgoe, with neighebores wyf so gay? Nor broke, and unsmooth behaviour. But now, if you drink too soon—which make his delight; and for to plead; ’tis forced retire, which made a book, right ynogh at eve.

                But and he, that does diddly. Or must feel it dark for hate. Line, the way through soon life’s variety there whelmed with one delightes, the princesse that e’er by precious you, excepting only may now shaking hands and fawe to brynne. Clothed, she nurst, that no wight, save then in the excess of gems, and when we will not matter, as the Lion’s bed, and short exile must suffer what other realm of season, and what’s meant to kneel. Hath all shiver in parliament; the secret ship with better loosely write, and tumbling, which I might disparage the ranckorous rigour of Harvest ripen, her here?

                Yet looked as too bounteous to read her eye. A scarf of orange, he cried, they hasten to be the pieces of Heavens. For kind soul seeks. Plunged from over the thoughte they quicken. Remote recess, pull’d forthwith upon their myriad voice had been detained by your ayd to followers, and the parallels in disguise, which fill’d up a glasses in the pan I scrub and bud about the better time of life, the sandy shore. Adieu my lips the syntax of loves unlawful. By cares forced to pour millet on graves or poppy seeds to feel you there! Al so siker as cold and wanton meryment.

                Ranks, Must we but born just as a feend, if thou kenst the foundation like the feels, unless indeed, replied, began in murderous weigh, then say my part a pointed on his small delay the sunlight not girlish but zombie-like, zombie-lite through the reasons, and every morning to admire: we, who looke a loft, and rend the earth was somtyme a clerk and I, tonight! Her body shaded with a joy into the fyre, vnto such as fit and half command—to bid first begin to speak the rest wise, wealth, a mistress one has served for this poem will be my windswept and wel bigon, and marriage?

[tar-one]

Et BIM !!! Comme ça, sans prévenir, alors que mon grand projet sort dans moins d’un mois, je vous offre en cadeau Bonus/échauffement un micro-EP de 5 petites bombes avec Dambeat de Crystal Camino (ce même Dambeat qui est sur le point de sortir son ogive plus taffée-sophistiquée/moins spontanée avec Sixo Master Flow). Je vous avais prévenu qu’en 2024 je ne blague pas. MVP shit, Mamba Mentality. C’est brut, c’est court (11min), c’est crasseux, c’est simplement des BARS de luxe kickées sans fioritures sur des BEATS de luxe pour tout cramer. Combustion Spontanée volume 2. Ecoute ça très fort et fais tourner un max. Plus le temps de niaiser yow. La suite, l'album+livre "Bien Tenté", le projet d'une vie arrive le 20.04.2024

Lyrics :

01. Bonnes Lignes

Plus de bonnes lignes que n'en a fournies le cartel de Medellín

T'en sniffes en off et dis "mais c'est in"

Tu te crames comme Madoff c'est terrible

Pas Anticonformiste comme les bons Kervern Delepine

Tout con, moutons, arrêtez c'est stérile

Nique votre cinéma préfère mater mes Séries

Je vous élimine et limite je démérite

Tar n’a rien mais fous l’feu comme Targarien Daenerys

Connaisseur comme Ruth dans Ozark

Au passage plus real et badass que vous dans vos raps

À quand l’hommage, il serait temps dommage

En gros Tar en vrai de vrai devrait être votre grand monarque

Christ Cosmique, présidentiable, Sylvain Durif

Comme Steve Austin vaut milliards, sur vilains j’urine

Si j’viens j’tue l’Beat comme les meilleurs ricains qu’tu kiffes

J’en ai plein mais divin si je spit rien qu’une ligne

Mythique comme la 13 pour les gros tags

Donnent de la valeur à ton track + que celles des codes-barres

Obsédantes comme unique passion

Cruciales comme en temps de guerre celles de communication

Mes lignes sont comme celles de l’horizon : inatteignables

Chuis comme le temps : inarrêtable

Le meilleur comme ils diront si jamais j’cane

Comme un cig’ après l’amour, j’tue mais suis appréciable

02. Averse de Rimes

Averse de rime sur ta tête de bite

La même que Sim donc arrête de suite

Me disrespect pas avec tes skills exécrables

J’te kill c’est le spectacle et le gorille Nems aime ça

T’es pas drôle et assez naze comme Marc Herman

Tout le monde a remarqué man, moi je marque et gagne

J’écris comme la team à Vince Gilligan, inimitable

It’s all good man, j’ai le bagout de Jimmy qui tchatche

Beau gosse assez magique, on confond avec Brad Pitt

Tu t’prends la tête comme Materazzi

Saoule pas comme un ptit connard qui t’fixe

Bouffon mégalo comme Nicolas Sirkis

J’te fais pas de dessin, pour toi pas de festin

Moi chuis couché en toge ta mère me passe des grappes de raisins

Acclamez-moi ! Tar One est roi

Comme Jon Snow sauf que le scénariste a craqué j’crois !

03. Fâché

Ils feraient tout pour des LOL et des Likes

Leur sang pourrait décorer mes Nikes

Jusqu’où laissera-t-on aller la bidonnerie

J’supporte plus comme vieux pilotis, faut les clouer au pilori

Intransigeance esthétique radicale comme PM, down

Pour jeter les wacks des scènes comme les pauvres PM Dawn

Hardcore sûrement comme Al Gore rêve de casser des bouches

J’vais t’briser rien peut t’sauver, même pas passer Kate Bush

Jusque dans mon Dope ADN on trouve une merde humaine

Un pervers narcissique pour lequel j’ai une haine suprême

Ta vie tu rateras, t’es et t’auras un gros cafard, sale naze

Ta gueule, crève seul, j’te consacre pas plus de 4 bars bâtard

Faut croire qu’ce Beat m’a rendu bougon

Serai-je plus détendu ou non si je pends du bouffon ?

Si leurs larmes coulent comme à l’Aïd le sang du mouton

Je serai pas cool j’vais haïr tant que les vendus boufferont

Tu trouves ma violence affriolante

J’suis mortel comme dans le Parrain quand arrive l’orange

Ils peuvent pas m’pomper car trop complexe, style pas très répliquable

Fais de l’Art avec la guerre comme Pablo avec Guernica

Damn, parfois il vole trop haut mon rap de trop haut vol

Trop puissant comme un monopole

Tout ça pour dire FUCK les faux et leurs textes si nuls

Ils nous les cassent donc je leur souhaite cancer des testicules

04. Fragments

C’est pas parce que tu name-drop des trucs chers que t’es raffiné

Comme un poster t’es bon qu’à t’afficher

Fatigué par ces rappeurs nouveaux riches, leur lourde beaufferie

Leurs discours horribles me bourrent d’office

J’suis fan, génie, suprême hustler, le dire j’hésite

Mais ta gueule et m’explique pas la vie Jay Z !

Les milliardaires sont pas des sages, des mages, des saints, des modèles

Veulent pas notre bien juste plus de profits, génèrent bien des bordels

Et nique les prophéties autoréalisatrices

T’as juste du bol et l’univers se branle de tes petits caprices

Des potes gobent des posts, des vlogs sans raisonner

L’arnaque du siècle ? Le développement personnel !

C’est dans ce canevas que nos petits grandissent

Avec en toile de fond une grande crise

J’t’ai déjà dit : j’dépeins mon monde alors qu’il manque de couleurs

Des plaintes parce que je n’avale pas de couleuvres

Mais tellement facile de faire le défaitiste

Ca déresponsabilise, en mode « J’y peux rien mais c’est triste »

Pas d’chimères niaises mièvres mais faut pas qu’j’abandonne !

J’aime mon apathie comme De Wever aime la Brabançonne

Et le travail ne finit pas toujours par payer

Et non, toute mauvaise action ne finit pas toujours par se payer

Non plus Ces trucs ne sont qu’illusions au risque de te peiner

Pas de simple solution, plutôt le chaos dans ce merdier

On se ment, oublie les fondements

On s’demande, à quand l’effondrement ?

Alors qu’on est déjà en plein saut de l’ange

Qu’on se dit plus « faut qu’je mange » que « faut qu’je change »

Allez, encore un petit dernier pour la déroute

Sourds, pas d’écoute, tout ça dégoute

Comme au Qatar quand les droits humains passent tous après l’foot

Vivement qu’on aille cramer les banques comme une foule à Beyrouth

05. Vibes

Tar est bien cartésien

Les grandes phrases ça m’irrite, ça m’fait rire ou ça m’fait rien

Pas religieux et peu spirituel

Peu de petites croyances et de petits rituels

J’respecte si t’en as et que ça te fait du bien

Mais fuck solutions miracles d’escrocs, ça ça fait du rien

J’exècre discours creux à base de bonnes énergies

Les pseudosciences abondent, les théories connes m’énervent vite

Mais j’avoue à la Vibe je suis sensible

Si puissant, j’tilte… Le pourquoi du comment : oui j’m’en fiche

Elle informe, exalte, impacte, enivre

Détermine ce que tu entends dans l’disque

Parfois tu mets un pied dans une pièce, sais qu’elle est mauvaise

Malgré des sourires tu peux repérer des faux frères

Parfois ça le fait pas quand tout est là pour un anniversaire

Parfois tu la surkiffes par surprise, sans rien ça chill pépère

Pour ma musique dans tout le processus la Vibe est reine

Si elle est forte et tue, elle s’ra pérenne

C’est la base élémentaire du son, son ADN

L’ingrédient mystère qui t’emmène dans mon monde, happé t’aimes

D’abord la zik des autres, des heures dans les oreilles

A longueur d’années ou que je sois damné, sur mes trésors j’veille

Vibes chéries, choyées, sacralisées

Avec soin je choisis album, playlist, Tar avisé !

A chaque situation son son

A chaque mood, gourmet ou fast food, que ça soit bon, me comble, que j’fonde !

Tu vois sur visage que j’frémis, grimace de plaisir

Ptit sax ou bendir, guitare ou breakbeat

Le kiff est d’mise pour un Curtis Mayfield

Et faut qu’j’me penche sur l’dernier de Mick Jenkins

Kurt, Prince, Hendricks ou Ferg, Peet, Amy

Muddy, Tracy ou le petit Kendrick

Bref, les plaisirs sont variés et inépuisables

Me nourrissent, m’enrichissent, me remplissent et puis j’pars

En quête des beats fat efficaces et qui m’parlent

Se marieront avec ma voix comme violence et Sam Peckinpah

Et quand je tombe dessus, j’fais la tête de Jay dans Fade To Black

C’est viscéral, physique, ça va m’émouvoir

Je le sais, j’loupe pas, ce son est pour moi

Dessus je ferai un truc intemporel comme le vrai Boom Bap

C’est encore la vibe qui commande quand je suis face au cahier

Que j’cueille les phases provoquant extase, le bic donne des orgasmes au papier

Maîtrise comme Kobe face au panier

Stakhanoviste d’l’art d’la bonne rime, kiffe comme Kanye kiffe Kanye

C’est encore la vibe qui commande dans le stud’ devant l’micro

Qu’il faut sentir comment poser en prenant le temps qu’il faut

Vibe enfin sur les planches, grandes osmose, grand niveau

Parfois même devant 10 potes je plane, je m’sens si haut

Vibe… Vibe… Vibration

La vibe m’emmène ailleurs, higher

Vibe… Vibe… Vibration

Ouais la vibe m’emmène ailleurs, higher

[taroneledopeemcee]

Yow, je sais bien que vous allez vous jeter sur le Isha/Limsa (moi aussi) et peut-être d'autres trucs car ce vendredi est riche en belles sorties. Mais avant tout ça, consacre un peu moins de 3 petites minutes au duo que t'ignorais qu'il te fallait ! Passe-passe ciselé rempli à rabord de bonnes phases. On n'est pas tout seuls, en plus de @sixomasterflow et moi au micro, retrouve une prod boom bap lourdissime (et Mix/Master) de @crystalcaminobeats , des scratches assassins de la machine à skillz @djbust , et Dope cover de @daex ! Écoute/partage/like/commente, tsé bien on en a plus besoin que l'autre super duo du jour. Let's go !!!

>>>>> Tar One Ft Sixo Master Flow - Omerta sur YouTube ou les plateformes de streaming

Tar One ft Sixo Master Flow - Omerta Lyrics

J'me suis baigné dans toutes les rivières mais c'est dans un verre que j’vais finir par me noyer

Là j’suis en feux ça y est, je n'ai plus le temps, j’ai pas de montre au poignet

Plutôt du côté cailleras et voyous que flics et douaniers

Balancez moi des lacrymo j'adore le poivre de Cayenne

Du Rap ils s’amourachent, moi accro comme à la samouraï

Trouve ça pourrave qu’il soit dans les mains de Saroumanes

Ils saoulent comme Sambuca mais on les graille comme Samoussa

Ce game est comme toi si tu testes : plein d’sales trous d’balles !

Avant c'était NTM ou c'tait IAM

Maintenant c'est MDR tous des swagg man

Tu m'déçois grave comme un vegan qui craque et s'bouffe des toast de foie gras

Mon arme est linguistique tout comme les malfrats

Quand j’fais ça j’me marre bien

Cracheur de feu mais pas genre Punk à chien

Dans le cahier gratte, comme Diego marque de la main

Comme mes sapes, l’arrogance me va bien

Très Gros tatane à la Jason Statham

Toujours en feux toujours chaud patate

Trop badass trop ratal OH l'bâtard

J'ai ma cons ma came ma grosse matraque

Retournerai pas ma veste comme Marlène Schiappa

Me relève malgré la poisse comme Boogie, Klay, Isiah

On met ta team à l’amende, surplombe comme Himalaya

Pour la fraternité on milite mais c’est pas l’Hymne à la Joie

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tu t’avances si tu t’avances, j’m’en branle, fais de même

Si je recule, c’est pour te mettre un fade away

Vrai de vrai, mets tas d’claques avec élégance

Comme éléphant j’attaque même avec mes défenses

J'porte pas d'or ma caille

pas de bling bling mais j'big up mes gars qui porte des portacath

Fin d'soirée faudra qu'on me porte à 4

J'porte mes couilles comme Batman porte sa cape

Rimes, patterns, Big Faya, divine Vibe, ça j’aime

Passe-passe, on s’passe parole comme Frisbie, Yves Van Laetem

Big Beat, kickage, pas d’thème

Évite les pièges comme Bip-Bip, j’kiffe ça Gaddamn !

Ici pas de costard cravate, pas de grosse star, sauf Rapsat et Green Montana

Donc on brise ton cadenas

Fiston pars là-bas

Évitons l'carnage

Vire ta zik de carnaval

On est la crème de Verviers et de tout c’merdier

J’suis fier du p’tit frère, un killer comme Berthier

Tue comme grosse Bertha, on fait la paire, fils : Homer-Bart

Te réduit au silence comme Omerta

[bifskn]

🏓 ⛹️‍♀️ ⚽ 🏀 🏏 🥎 🏐 *Yow Yow - _IT'S Time AGAIN_* 🥊 🥋 ♟️🚴‍♀️ 🚣‍♀️ 🤾🏊 🏃‍♀️

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‼️ ‼️ Join us on another Episode of *On The Ball*

The two (2) hour weekly sports talk show, - *_Tonight, Tuesday 12th Mar_, on *Winn FM 98.9 from 7 to 9pm*, with yours truly Troy Bif Mills as host. ‼️ ‼️

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Host

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Winn FM 98.9

[anatheron]

love, you know what i do, i go fight, yeah fight you know progress in life, work then i come back here to the virtual love and im like new again, and then fight again yeah more fight.

Haha it never ends im always winning

im becoming addicted to it, really like love is wathever im becoming superhuman, i love it, i am so motivated so happy so yeah you go out there fight, work and then fatiged you come back here and reload with love, it works or friends call it wathever it works fine for me, so yeah social networking done right can work fine

about love taking it seriously, oh well im a loner, a philosopher i prefer it this way, yeah, i love sex however but lately it has become such a rare thing for me that im like wathever,

yeah and love im like yeah wathever, i prefer like Plato, like any important philosopher, no wife no woman, no love, only love for wisdom yeah thats me, hope my work turn me rich so i can enjoy this love for myself yeah, wathever others, i mean ,haha for real, i like vegan food, i would do it for the animals, but people around you, come on , im too weird for that shit, oh i would surround myself with cats and dogs and lots of weed and work, like never sleep always produce, yeah, cant believe i finally play that old game boy game, i was so depressed for years i couldnt play, until i saw this girl on the internet, zedrapsyborg or something, she or he i dont know, won a whole game on a single night i was like, wow, those chinesse are indeed superior in every way to us latinos, lol, wow i really into this china girl, she hates me, and tries to hide it, and im like, yow, dont try to hard, i mean i screw it up totally, first date and she catches me watching asian porn, lol, the internet gossiped everything, anyways

hackers stuff, i downloaded Thor, but havent been able to find any time to wach my favorite movies, anyways, anyways, im becoming to old for this shit, so im like banning the adult content, they ban me from the Whores house too, so im kind of depressed, lol, i deserved it, i treat woman like if they were objects and learning to do better.

lol anyways i finished the 150 pages of my own book, well getting there, so yeah problems, are like wathever everything is used to fuel my work, this may feed me, hell i may even turn to be rich, im just so happy, yes happy to have writte so much and the love intoxicated, real fictionary, unreal, i dont care, soon all i will care is about how much was sold, couldnt be happier with my progress

who helped me get here from the crackhole i was trapped after three years of unemployment

David Googins

Valuetainment

and the great master of motivation Tim Grover

now im back in the track and getting to be so big, my dreams coming true i will finally fuck as i have always wanted big hotel 5 stars no commitment

so go ahead i invite you to think BIG, you were made to give your 150% and nothing less

[princessherogirl]

Vex: Now then. Turning. What every villain should know. When you're turning, it's important to single at least... (The Negativitron places the paper on Fisk's lap) Fisk: (picks up the paper) (gasps) Big fat meanie?! Neg, you can't do that! He's our master! Vex: What about the master? Fisk: Yow!!! (Vex picks up the paper) Vex: What-- I-- (Tense music plays as Vex notices the ugly drawing) Vex: (was pissed at Fisk) As if I REALLY look like this?

[hakesbros]

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[libidomechanica]

“And ho bede hit yow schalk rides; and if the lips and despair”

With thee, which thunderer bore an awkward   care, they would surpass her, save death. A tale   most kiss? Roman scowl is said the road where were ample more near: they keep termly fires of the patron. Pain, he forbe al þe worchip   walked, and the Bridge of some obscure.   Titanic shape it pleasant scandal’s master reader—she’ll be so, swared that flashed a score of myne. Where silence it is the key   deftly in this time she loiter’d, lest and   stoken off her kind. And ho bede hit yow schalk rides; and if the lips and despair? Your fields, far beyond call. His plea faint and gathered   of her own common love, your heroines   out of blaunner wer now is vylany, wyth no great and due to þe derk nyȝt.

[hoshinekosounds]

Released 2013/04/29

竜と少年 -arculd- by LUNA*RUMA

Vocal ：月子 (tr.1)

Chorus ： KANO (tr.1, tr.2)

All Music & Lyric & Artwork ： Yohsuke

Mastering ： yow

shop : BOOTH / bandcamp

[besttech2]

Why Winter is a Great Time for Interior Painting

Residential painting is a great option during winters

Have an inside paint work you’ve been needing to finish? We have uplifting news for you―winter is an incredible chance to make it happen! Spring months are normally accepted to be more helpful for home fixes, however winter gives an optimal climate to inside painting too. The following are a couple of motivations behind why.

Regular light is bountiful.

Legitimate lighting is fundamental for a top notch paint work and makes any undertaking significantly more pleasant―especially inside painting. Brilliance takes into consideration a more clear qualification among painted and unpainted regions. This, thus, speeds up the interaction and recoveries time. In the colder time of year, days are in many cases clear and radiant, giving more than adequate normal light and a brilliant climate that is ideally suited for applying a new coat.

The air is drier.

Since the water found in sticky air can hinder paint’s capacity to dry, the drier winter air can assist with speeding up the cycle. With winter projects, it’s wise to choose a paint that has zero to low VOCs (unpredictable natural mixtures). the coatings we use are accessible in low-VOC or no-VOC definitions. In this manner, there is very little to no scent during application.

The timing is correct!

One of the advantages of winter painting doesn’t really have to do with normal conditions―in truth, it’s tied in with booking the composition project. In the hotter months, painters’ timetables are typically full with both outside and inside projects, while winters are a lot calmer time. This implies your venture will probably be achieved sooner than if you booked it in the spring season.

Therefore and that’s only the tip of the iceberg, winter is really an optimal chance to revive your home’s inside. All things considered, wonderful variety is generally in season. On the off chance that you actually have inquiries regarding leaving on a composition project in the colder months, converse with our specialists. We are glad to give a free gauge or examine any task exhaustively, and we will try and come to your home to do as such. At Victoria master painting we need what is best for our clients, and we will work vigorously to convey a remarkable home improvement experience ―no matter the season.

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