#he was talking about horses but thats neither here nor there

[probablymoons]

rando on the copaganda show: Why can't they see that? If we revere them sexually, then eating their flesh is an act of holy communion!

they could literally do numbers on here

#ask to tag #probablyrambles #he was talking about horses but thats neither here nor there #cannibalism #< implied #theophagy

[hereforthefunnyguys]

Is it too insane to ask for your nsfw Irateshipping HCs?

no no it’s not insane I just usually try to keep the blog more pg-13/R rated than x rated. However…. I really want to talk about Irateshipping more. So imma just put some stuff under the cut. Honestly I’m more worried about not having enough stuff or frankly anything thats particularly sexy than I am about having it at all lmao

(nsfw text under the cut! You have been Warned) (Hoping the cut actually. Cuts where its supposed to lmao)

-marik ishtar praise kink goes crazy I don’t make the rules. Joey once accidentally called him a "good boy" during their first time together and he literally stopped functioning. Like complete windows crash bluescreen. Only refocused when Joey sat up and shook him a little because what if he accidentally killed him with sex somehow

-Joey is actually the more experienced of the two, which was really disappointing to him because he was really counting on the idea of his sexy criminal femme fatale boyfriend that knows 5000 different sex positions and instead got stuck with a nervy little freak that does not even know what lube is

-marik doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s very enthusiastic to try whatever sounds fun

-this is simultaneously contrasted with the fact that he cannot take much stimulation at once and gets nervous if he’s not in control (whether in a Sexy way or in a Panic Attack way is kind of a coin flip)

-Joey is kind of bad at sex the first few times tbh because he gets too nervous and ends up getting distracted and talking way too much and ruining the mood

-he seriously improves in focus and attractivenesss when marik is just like. Ok. You can do what you want physically but please. For the love of god. Stop talking in bed like that.

-Joey has a weird thing where the idea of losing control to marik is really hot but also simultaneously so absolutely terrifying and humiliating to him even in a private context that he’s just like “hmmmm stuffing that down to repress as well methinks”

-marik is perhaps a wee bit of a sadist, which does not mix well with the fact that he is also fairly submissive and wants to be cared for and cared about so bad it actually hurts

-def not a masochist though lmao

-“I want to make you feel good and make this very romantic and uh other stuff” Joey and “i have been working for 10 straight hours and just got yelled at by my dad and need to Destroy Something” Joey are two entirely different creatures in bed

-Joey, walking into the bedroom casually: Hey babe how's it go -

Marik, shaking visibly from stress: If you have sex with me right here right now and completely destroy my brain to the point i cannot think about the conversations i have had with my siblings today about what i will do with my life now that I am no longer a cult leader I swear I will literally give you whatever you want from me for at least three months

Joey:

Joey, cautiously patting Marik on the head while sitting down next to him: Okay not that that's not an incredibly hot offer but maybe let's talk about it first plea-

Marik, gripping Joey's leg hard enough to leave fingerprints: I understand that but if I have one more serious conversation today I'll start killing people again

-Marik head game goes crazy because of that long tongue until he gets too worked up and starts getting Bitey

-Joey head game mediocre because he has too much of a gag reflex but is very enthusiastic and drools a fuckton

-Marik dick game meh because he neither has the enthusiasm nor the stamina for it tbh. Gets bonus points because he has fairly good rhythm

-Joey is better because he definitely has the enthusiasm for it as well as the strength for it (plus hes stubborn enough to keep pushing even when hes exhausted lmao) but tbf tends to get really excited or distracted and so tends to be kind of irrhythmic

-i tend to not bring top/bottom Disc Horse (tm) up much but I do think Joey probably wouldn't bottom much due to both a lot of internalized perceptions about it and also because it sounds like it fuckin hurts to him lmao

-Marik is simultaneously split in between "I love my weird little pathetic creature that i occasionally allow to be graced by my divine presence in bed" and "I NEED HIM TO CRUSH MY NECK IN BETWEEN HIS BICEP AND FOREARM WHILE I GET SHOVED IN BETWEEN HIS PECS FUCK"

-In terms of like strict Dynamics i think they're probably both switches that tend to fall back into pretty gentle/vanilla dom/sub dynamic when they aren't trying anything in particular

-Joey kind of likes getting bossed around in bed but tends to argue with it if marik does not just make him shut the Fuck up because sometimes the joey instinct is stronger than the horny instinct

-I post a lot about them having fucked up gay sex but in a domestic situation I think the sex is actually pretty intimate and honestly probably one of the healthier aspects of their relationship

-At multiple times in their lives I think its probably what helps get them through the day especially Joey when he was still living with his dad and working through his debts like. just five minutes more of worrying 24/7 and struggling to survive until my beautiful boyfriend shows up and straddles my lap while kissing my forehead and removes every single goddamn thought i have ever had that isn't about him. yay :)

-suffice to say they are making it work in the bedroom

-I forgot to mention that occasionally yami marik will show up if marik gets too freaked out and that there is nothing more terrifying to joey than turning around post-afterglow and seeing a demon with hair bigger than it’s shoulders looking at you like he wants to suck the inside of your skin out in place of your previously very pretty and vulnerable boyfriend

-bonus genderbend edition: fem marik is definitely a pillow princess and joey is completely willing to deal with putting in the work because quote "have you seen her recently have you seen my beautiful girlfriend just look at her I would do anything for this sexy sexy living identity crisis on stilts"

-fem marik: I want strap this is no longer a want nor a need but rather a Demand

#irateshipping #marik ishtar #joey wheeler #katsuya jonouchi #ygo #ask 2 tag #also joeys a leg man ps #my stuff

[davekat-sucks]

The reason they don't talk about it is because most of the fandom doesn't even want to acknowledge that Equius exists. They'd rather if he was just a bad fucking dream. Still others posit that he is literally their sexual abuser or something along those lines, made manifest in fiction. Thats what Equius is. Your rapist ex.

Thats what people genuinely believe about him. Yep. The dead horse.

Not Gamzee. The guy who canonically "sexually coerced a minor" (teenage Vriska) as a 40 year old guy, in Homestuck 2. This was a developement Hussie approved, OK'd and then shipped for public consumption. Gamzee "sexually coercing" Vriska is ACTUAL, HUSSIE-APPROVED CANON.

He definitely has no friends outside Nepeta. It was never fully explored. But yes I think she definitely would've made a difference in Equius if she was allowed to do that.

At the very least, her death, and him letting down Nepeta as a moirail and a friend, started something in Equius.

Despite him being adamant about the hemocaste and the supposed rules he and others must live by, at least he could see that what he did was wrong.

He understood that he hurt Nepeta, which he would never ever want to happen. He admitted his sins, and when confronted with Fefetasprite, he admitted to himself and others that he believes that he doesn't deserve forgiveness.

I'd say, that all that, coming from the most racist, stick-in-the-mud bastard, asshole character, is definitely something, and I think it should be noticed.

So yes, I think Nepeta tried what she could do so that Equius wouldn't be such a fucking piece a shit loser. With the best way possible. By being a light-hearted, loyal, lovely, silly friend who doesnt take things too seriously, and also tells Equius off when he's being a bastard.

I think Hussie also mentioned at one point, that Aradia was not under the influence of the heart-chip when she made the move. Almost immadiately after, the comic explains QUADRANT VACCILATION to the readers. Troll sure are alien and weird!

Yeah and the thing about Vriska... Aradia just simply doesn't give a shit anymore. On the pirate ship Vriska actually makes it a point to apologize to Aradia. But Aradia says not to think anything of it, because the wounds of the past doesnt fucking matter to her.

Because Aradia is INFINITELY more interested in "watching this whole place break apart :)" than be pissed because Vriska murdered her and crippled Tavros or whatever.

I genuinely think that she HONESTLY doesnt give a goddamn about SHITTY DICKHEAD BLUEBLOODS. And you know what? Absolutely fucking amazing for her! Hell yes, fuck haters, they dont fucking matter. Got bigger fish to fry.

And honestly? She wouldve had every right to COMPLETELY DESTROY Equius here, Sollux was right there too. Yet neither of them, nor Hussie decided to chew out or dunk on Equius. Eridan gets plenty of that.

But for some reason Equius seemingly only suffers, as much as he deserves. No more, no less.

No, instead of tearing into Equius, Aradia just says "im sorry, itwas a mistake for us to get involved :(" I think quite politely.

You'd think a dead horse, a complete joke of a fucking character, Equius, would deserve to get fucked with the painstick a little bit harder than that.

But no, Aradia is just like "sorry, it was a mistake", no telling him that he's a disgusting blueblood snob or whatever else. Neither does Sollux go for that either. If you remember, right before Aradiabot explodes on the meteor hideout, Sollux complains that "since she (aradia) became Equius' smoochbot they barely had any time to talk".

Which I guess means, that as fucked up as their relationship was I guess at least Sollux respected whatever Aradia had going on to not try to get involved in it, because Hussie couldve given him some choice lines regarding Equius. But he didnt.

Fitting for the Heir of Void to be left unnoticed by the fandom and the nu-fandom thinking he is nothing without Nepeta at his side. Probably for the best for him, because they probably would have spun him as some non-binary or trans because he had crossdressed as a maid in that Ministrife that one time. Though maybe not because he is mostly depicted as a muscular sweaty type. The modern fanbase don't like that body type. You have to be fat fat not muscle fat. Strange double-standards that Equius does not receive the harsh end compared to Eridan. I can only think that he did not get too much shit is probably because he is a highblood and Aradia is a lowblood. So him making out with Aradiabot (she is still a rusty as a ghost) and keeping her is all within his right compared to Eridan killing Feferi (who is the next Heiress). But that all ties in the hemocaste system that he would have to get over with. That and Equius is a part of Hussie in terms of liking horses. Not a full self insert, but like "Hey, I made this OC based on my weird interests in this one animal. So he is like a part of me in some way!" - Hussie

#Equius Zahhak #Aradia Megido #Homestuck #Homestuck fandom #Andrew Hussie

[jelly-fried-rice]

can,, can i have a matt x nonbinary!reader?? like, where the reader is questioning their gender identity and matt just comforts them? thats all i can think of, the rest can be up to you! ^^

Of course! As someone who is a trans man, I get what it's like to go through a rough gender identity crisis. Especially when you're told by people you can never be the way you feel you're supposed to. Gender is a complex topic, and for the most part a binary social construct. Whatever you feel is your truth, and don't let anyone tell you your identity is invalid because they don't understand.

Nonbinary is a plethora of different identities so I went along the lines of a more fluid and fluctuating identity.

You didn't specify Afab or Amab so I'll keep this as neutral as possible to not lean into any which way keeping it as universal as possible. Matt is trans in this too! So that's nice :]

Matt x Nonbinary! Reader

You're gazing into your boyfriend's hand-held mirror, tugging painfully at the hair on your head in frustration. Too long, people would mistake you as a girl. Too short, people will assume you're a boy. What if you wanted to look like both? Neither? On some days, your appearance felt wrong. Gendered pronouns felt wrong. And on other days, you find comfort in being called sir/ma'am and being seen as a specific identity.

Isolated in the room alone, at any moment you felt like curling up on the inside and crying. Screaming in frustration and confusion. And that's exactly what you did. Letting out the most violent cry you could direct into the nearest pillow.

Nothing ever felt right. And in times like these it was probably better to be alone. After all, you felt like no one would be able to understand or sympathize with your struggle. Just pick something! Anything to fit into what you're supposed to. Things needed to be sorted into boxes and you felt more or less like a soggy, fallen apart cardboard box.

Maybe you were just being overdramatic...

A knock at your door startled you, but you made no move to get up to answer the door nor did you want to raise your voice and answer. You looked like a mess, sounded like a mess. You were a mess. That, and the pinch in your throat after your anguished shout.

"(Y/N)? Love, are you okay in there? I heard one of your... emotinal distress noises."

It was Matt. The most loving man you could have by your side. He understood your struggles. Not entirely, his experience was and would always be different than yours. But just knowing you had someone so significant to you understand a similar struggle so intimately as you did made it easier to confide in someone.

You were in his room, he could have barged in at any time. But he knew how fragile your state was at the moment. It wasn't frequent you had these outbursts, but when you did it put you in a very vulnerable mindset. But he didn't hear any vocal protests so he cracked the door open letting light flood into what felt like your own personal abyss.

You hummed horsely in response to light irritating your eyes, from sitting in complete darkness or the crying was to be debated.

With a sigh through his nose, the ginger gently nudged you aside, rolling you flat on your back. Though you still clutched onto the pillow you yelled into earlier. He decided to sit on an empty portion of the bed and placed a hand on your face gently instead of his usual instinct to curl up at your side and have his arm tug you close to his chest. Matt loathed to see you hurting this way. And the fresh tears he felt on your face stung his heart.

Matt hesitated, he was never the best with comforting someome so upset. But you were his partner, he had to come up with something even if it wasn't much.

He took a breath and cleared his throat, "We don't have to talk about it, you know that. Just reassuring you. But no matter what you're thinking, I'll be here for you through all of it. Every decision you decide for yourself I'll back you up. I know you're hurting. But don't ever think of hurting alone."

You used your hand that wasn't busy clutching your pillow and pressed his hand more firmly to the side of your face.

"I'm so tired of the confusion Matty, so fucking tired. I don't want to be so unsure of who I am and what I am. I need something to label these feelings," you finally let out. You were now looking into your boyfriend's eyes, searching for any comfort and familiarity. In times like this you needed something to ground you to at least remind you that something is stable. Matt is stable. He's your rock.

Ocean blue eyes were soft, gazing into your own burning (e/c) ones. The moment he gave one of his reassuring smiles you knew you'd be fine. Though his smile was likely awkward, it warmed your heart. This was just another tough evening.

"Who said you needed to label these feelings right away? Figuring out yourself is part of growing as a person, we do it all the time. This is no different. Why rush to sort yourself out when you can just enjoy and feel what you want?" He used his thumb to wipe away what tears were left, his presence already stopped the waterworks rushing beforehand.

"At the end of the day," he leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead. You could feel his smile cool your skin. "You're you no matter what identity you take. You can change whatever you want about your presentation but what matters most is the person on the inside. And damn to hell anyone that tells you that you need to identify a certain way to feel complete."

#eddsworld imagines #eddsworld scenarios #eddsworld headcanons #matt x reader #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld matt x reader #nonbinary reader

[atiny-piratequeen]

since you dont know many german tales, how about the original story of rapunzel?

~~

There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished for a child. At length the woman hoped that God was about to grant her desire. These people had a little window at the back of their house from which a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared to go into it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had great power and was dreaded by all the world.

One day the woman was standing by this window and looking down into the garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful rampion - Rapunzel, and it looked so fresh and green that she longed for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire increased every day, and as she knew that she could not get any of it, she quite pined away, and began to look pale and miserable.

Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, "What ails you, dear wife?"

"Ah," she replied, "if I can't eat some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our house, I shall die."

The man, who loved her, thought, sooner than let your wife die, bring her some of the rampion yourself, let it cost what it will. At twilight, he clambered down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it greedily. It tasted so good to her - so very good, that the next day she longed for it three times as much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening, therefore, he let himself down again. But when he had clambered down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress standing before him.

"How can you dare," said she with angry look, "descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a thief? You shall suffer for it."

"Ah," answered he, "let mercy take the place of justice, I only made up my mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she had not got some to eat."

Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and said to him, "If the case be as you say, I will allow you to take away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one condition, you must give me the child which your wife will bring into the world. It shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a mother."

The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.

Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was a little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed herself beneath it and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the hair fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed up by it.

After a year or two, it came to pass that the king's son rode through the forest and passed by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The king's son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest and listened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw that an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress climbed up to her. "If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I too will try my fortune," said he, and the next day when it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Immediately the hair fell down and the king's son climbed up. At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as her eyes had never yet beheld, came to her. But the king's son began to talk to her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she thought, he will love me more than old dame gothel does. And she said yes, and laid her hand in his.

She said, "I will willingly go away with you, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk every time that you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready I will descend, and you will take me on your horse."

They agreed that until that time he should come to her every evening, for the old woman came by day.

The enchantress remarked nothing of this, until once Rapunzel said to her, "Tell me, Dame Gothel, how it happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up than the young king's son - he is with me in a moment."

"Ah! You wicked child," cried the enchantress. "What do I hear you say. I thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have deceived me."

In her anger she clutched Rapunzel's beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the right, and snip, snap, they were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless that she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where she had to live in great grief and misery.

On the same day that she cast out Rapunzel, however, the enchantress fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off, to the hook of the window, and when the king's son came and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

she let the hair down. The king's son ascended, but instead of finding his dearest Rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed at him with wicked and venomous looks.

"Aha," she cried mockingly, "you would fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest. The cat has got it, and will scratch out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you. You will never see her again."

The king's son was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but roots and berries, and did naught but lament and weep over the loss of his dearest wife.

Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at length came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins to which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness. He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards it, and when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and he could see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy and contented.

~~

so i have been taught a version that is a little easier on children, where rapunzel was basically safed by her prince and they lived happily ever after. and no birthing twins either. BUT this version has been the one read to children for decades since it was written.

i liked the disney movie, but as usual it glossed over the original everywhere. thats fine tho, it was fiction in the first place and an accurate verion might be more of a thriller, or horror movie... or just a very sad one. it just saddens me sometimes when so much detail is lost. just like malificent wasnt called by her original german name (malefiz) in the german dub of her movie. that irked me greatly.

(also if this is starting to get annoying, tell me!! i just really enjoy revisiting fairytales and telling people about them uwu)

Its not annoying at all. Again, i always appreciate this so much. Plus you're sharing part of your culture, for folklore and fairytales, even those with more wider known adaptations, are still important to people's culture. So even if you tell me a Grimm or something that i do know, i still appreciate it so much.

I know a lot of fairytales have gentler adaptations for the kiddos but ive never seen the traditional one for rapunzel so thank you sm!

#asks #schimmelspore #long post

[unbury-the-gays]

(hello, zkretchy but on my main blog here to throw out a little, kinda even, package of those ask meme asks into here and simultaneously stopping myself from just asking all of them)So I politely ask for Numbers 2 (and 3 actually add that in), 13, 17 and uh 25 or 27 idk how far you all are with any possible future dealings - also congrats on 45kwords! Thats a lot of them holy shit and well done!

Hi, zkretchy, thanks for the ask! We had lots of fun brainstorming these.

2. If they could each describe each other in one sentence, what would it be?

So I know you said one sentence, but we'll do you one better: one word.

Kiyan about Adrien: Bastard. Adrien about Kiyan: Mine!

That about sums them up at the moment, really.

3. If they complimented each other, what would they say?

Kiyan would make a sour face and insist he saw nothing worth complimenting in the bastard, but if you made him be honest he'd admit he's attractive and smart and fun to argue with. But he would struggle to say it to Adrien directly, for a couple reasons. The first is that Adrien would be absolutely insufferable about it. He'd just be so incredibly happy about the slightest compliment from Kiyan and that much extrovert energy is just Too Much for Kiyan. Also, he has difficulty forming compliments because they're not really something he's familiar with, either giving or receiving.

Adrien is a bit cautious about giving Kiyan compliments directly at the moment, because he correctly identified that Kiyan does not know what to do with them. But he's getting bolder about it. He tells Kiyan he's beautiful when he finds him in the waterfall. And he's absolutely talking Titus's ear off about how awesome Kiyan is 😂.

Ultimately they both suffer from self-esteem issues that make compliments complicated, but they respond very differently.

Adrien needs to hear compliments. Knowing Kiyan finds him attractive, interesting, and smart would absolutely thrill him. Adrien wants to please him, wants to be wonderful to him, wants to be admired and take anything and everything, even the smallest praise.

On the other hand, accepting a compliment would make Kiyan uneasy, at least initially. That would be something he would have to learn. It's not that he finds receiving compliments unpleasant. It would just be strange and new to him and would require him to deal with his low self-esteem.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person.

This one was interesting! Considering that they both have a selective morality and don't hesitate to either kill or die (Adrien is almost looking for an opportunity to get himself into a dangerous situation, and Kiyan may not want to die, but he shielded Adrien with his body without hesitation, so), the usual limits don't really apply. They would burn the world for each other, and the people living there, because neither the world nor the people have offered them anything that they would consider valuable so far. So they would kill and die and do other bad things for each other. And it would be disturbingly easy for them. But what they wouldn't do for the other is change who they are.

Kiyan's instance of this is practically canon: Adrien offers him a position as his kept man and Kiyan runs away. That offer is what breaks the hold that his fascination and attraction to Adrien have, the bond they are forming. He wouldn't give up on going on the Path, he wouldn't give up being a witcher, because it's an integral part of who he is. Neither his pride nor his temperament would allow him.

Adrien is more complicated. Despite being overbearing and possessive, he is willing to make concessions for Kiyan. He is willing to change so that this relationship can work. Despite the fact that he doesn't understand many things and does many things wrong (and from wrong reasons), he is willing to cooperate as long as he sees that he can gain something from it. But submission is not in his nature. The more Kiyan tries to take control, the more he will fight for it. He understands relationships entirely as a play of dominance and control because those are the only relationships he's ever known. Adrien is afraid of being controlled, but the only way he knows is to control back. He can't really conceptualize a relationship that is equal and doesn't rely on control. So he understands that Kiyan doesn't want to be controlled, but he pushes because he doesn't know any other option and he needs to be in control more than he wants to be what Kiyan wants. The thing is, Kiyan doesn't actually want to dominate the relationship. He just wants Adrien to stop treating him as a possession and be his equal. But Adrien doesn't know how, and so he rebels against what he perceives as a threat to the one thing he won't change.

17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

For Kiyan it's definitely scent. Adrien wears a rich scent with a combination of Ofieri spices that reminds him of his mother, and Kiyan has definitely noticed. Also because witcher senses mean the scent is very strong and he's used to keeping track of scents like that. Adrien also smells of horse a lot, which is comforting.

Adrien likes to keep Kiyan's drawings, when he eventually is allowed to see them. And seeing drawings by other people always makes him think of Kiyan. Also he's a collector and has a gift-giving love language even once he gets over the whole possessiveness issue somewhat, so he does a lot of "oh, Kiyan would like that" type thinking, building a little Kiyan catalogue in his head and then gifting the things (slowly so Kiyan doesn't run off, he learned his lesson with the strawberries and courtesans offer 😂).

25. What moves do they know work on the other?

I know you said 25 or 27 but we answered both 😅. They were fun to think about because we hadn't thought about sex a lot with them since they have such a long way to go before they're in a place where they can do things like explore kink 😂.

In general, something that works on Adrien is when someone needs him. Not just sexually, but with everything. This applies not only to Kiyan, but also in a way with his relationship with Gisbert and also in a way with his guards - these people need him; without him they would have nowhere to go. So even if Adrien weren't in the mood for something (not just sex, though Adrien not in the mood for sex is hard to imagine) if Kiyan admitted he needed it, it would chang the mood. Kiyan doesn't know this yet, but it's not that hard to figure out. What Kiyan knows at the moment is that it is really enough for him to be alone in the same room with Adrien. But that's more of an action of unresolved sexual tension than of an actual thing that would work. Playing hard to get or making something into a challenge also seems to work. Right now it's because of the UST, but once they resolve it they could probably have some fun with playing with that deliberately.

With Kiyan, it annoys him how arrogant, possessive and pushy Adrien can be. So the more Adrien shows these traits, the more Kiyan will say no. But when Adrien shows more humility, as he sheds his arrogant asshole mask and shows his more vulnerable face, Kiyan doesn't quite know how to fight it. Kiyan has a hard time saying no to an actual vulnerable honest request because he genuinely does care for and desire Adrien. If Adrien can be vulnerable enough to say "please," Kiyan can't resist him. (Adrien noticed this but, being someone who sees everything as a power struggle, thought it was about humiliating him. It's an exhausting way to live. He needs so many whacks with the "be a better person" hammer.)

27. Do they have any kinks/fetishes that they share?

Ok so overall, they defintiely get kinky but don't go in much for the D/s side of things. They both need control of their own mental state too much to ever really give that over to each other. But Kiyan's witcher senses make sensation play very fun, and Adrien is totally down for being tied up. Adrien's active imagination also makes for some fun roleplay, which Kiyan indulges.

Also for Maximum Angst, Kiyan used to enjoy bondage and pain stuff, but after Ireneus he can't stand them 😭. Only soft gentle things for our witcher, which Adrien is more than happy to provide.

And then we got side tracked by a scenario and had two very different responses to it.

The scenario:

Kiyan tying Adrien to bed, gagging him, Adrien all horny, and instead of going into action, Kiyan takes this opportunity to finally go to meditate in peace.

Gav's thoughts (aka what Adrien is thinking):

Adrien tied and gagged and impossibly turned on and all he can do is lay there and watch Kiyan meditate, completely serene. Reminds them of all the times Kiyan kissed him and ran away at the beginning. Only now Kiyan is still there, Adrien can see him, and he can't touch or talk or do anything. It's not about Kiyan being in control of Adrien, it's about Adrien accepting that he has no control over Kiyan. He just has to wait and hope Kiyan will choose him

Advena's thoughts (aka what Kiyan is thinking):

Kiyan comes back from the Path tired, but Adrien missed him a lot and doesn't give him peace. So they have sex once, twice, three times, Adrien is generally insatiable and Kiyan is finally like: Hey you wanna try something different? And Adrien, all excited, of course he wants to. So Kiyan ties him up, gags him, and finally has a moment of peace.

So that was amusing. Basically, extrovert boyfriends are exhausting and like to read symbolism into your attempts to get some peace and quiet 😂.

Thanks again for the ask! These were fun to answer!

#asks answered #zkretchy #baekuras #kiyan #kiyan/adrien #lemon #n/sfw #headcanons #ask game

[happikattwuzheere]

the one where gansey befriends a deer: the au

hey remember that time ronan dreamed up a deer that was described with language suspiciously similar to how adam’s described, because i sure do!!! anyway

OK.

ok. so. this au’s actually evolved a lot since its initial already-pretty-fleshed-out inception one sleepless night, so me talking about it’s gonna be more than one post, but here’s the first one well actually the second technically yesterday’s warmup doodles were also from this au but i didnt talk about it at all so

and I’m gonna start with more or less the same pitch I gave to a couple people on discord

SO. starting out: it’s standard fantasy times, vaguely medieval but no specific time period because I don’t care enough to be digging into that quite frankly, but it is somewhere in England where this is happening. Story starts with just Gansey, Ronan, and Noah. Fey are very real and known entities and there’s been a conflict in England between the fey and humans, if not in the whole country then at least in the lands that the Ganseys are the lords of but probably the whole island tbh, and Gansey’s not inherited the lands yet but he’s going to and wants to maybe find a peaceful resolution to the conflict. It’s not open warfare by any means but it’s been a big problem. 

To the effect of solving that, he heads to some little village that I haven’t named but it’s right next to a known fey forest called Cabeswater. This village has avoided being stomped by the local fey because, despite witches not being particularly liked by the nobility of the time, there’s a big old coven (the psychics of Fox Way, essentially) situated right by this village that’s kept things in check. Gansey’s made his excuses to his parents about why he’s officially going there but really he wants to talk to the witches and get a better grasp of the conflict from the people actually dealing with it.  He and Ronan set out from home together, pick up Noah along the way--who is not a ghost in this AU, he’s a fey who owes Gansey a life debt, that’s a whole other post and THIS post is mostly about gansey and adam--but anyway they get to this village and NOBODY gives gansey the time of day. 

the witches don’t let him into their house because they don’t like the nobility right back thanks and the next time he tries to visit Cabeswater won’t even let him get to the coven’s dwelling, the one witch’s daughter who regularly stops by the village for supplies and to check if anyone needs anything has a big argument with him the first time he talks to her so that’s going nowhere, and, well, the villagers are polite, but they clearly don’t take him seriously. He’s just the lordling playing at things and potentially meddling in their business to them.

So he starts hanging out just barely within Cabeswater, even though he knows that’s not wise, because he finds this perfect spot by a stream, and he’ll sit out there and think and work on the journal he keeps of all his thoughts and plans, and one day while he’s there has a straight up Disney princess experience when a deer stops by the stream and seems incredibly unafraid of him. he cherishes the experience but accepts that it probably won’t happen again.

and then it does. several times. gansey’s losing his mind. this deer??? apparently likes listening to him info dump?? it’s very therapeutic and also very magical and he’s amazed 

a few times in, he names the deer “Pryderi” after a character from a welsh legend, because “such a handsome creature deserves a princely name,” [[muffled blue laughing and whispering “princely” in the distance]], and he tells ronan and noah about this experience but ronan doesn’t believe him at ALL. 

one time after gansey’s particularly upset at how bad his attempts at getting along with the villagers, Pryderi actually lets Gansey touch him for the first time and gansey cannot shut up about it to ronan who’s finally like “i think you’re bullshitting me about this deer thing. im coming with you next time” and gansey’s like “well he’s a deer he might not show up if a stranger’s around and he doesn’t come every time i go down there anyway” and ronan’s like “this sounds like a lot of excuses, dick, you’re not making me believe you any more with this” and gansey’s like “>8\” 

but pryderi does show up, and gansey is delighted, and ronan stares really hard at him and then goes 

and gansey’s like what? nooo. but ronan keeps arguing it for the duration of the visit and the deer actually starts to look annoyed and at the end ganseys like ok maybe but i doubt it. and then hes like “well since you are a fey apparently (/sarcasm) i ought to say farewell with respect” and bows very mockingly and then the deer makes direct eye contact with ronan and bows back and gansey loses his shit

gansey continues meeting up with pryderi but even while his infodumping still happens it does so now with the knowledge that He Does Actually Understand What Im Saying, he may be a fey but he seems like a friendly one and hey that’s way more than gansey thought he would get out here, and also this deer is his friend now thanks, 

he, ronan, and noah (who’s amused by Pryderi but keeps his main thoughts to himself for now) make some excursions into cabeswater, but the thing is noah’s not really native to england, he’s from the european mainland, again i’ll get to it in another post sometime, but. he can sort of help navigate cabeswater but not all THAT well so they get lost a couple times, and every time it does happen pryderi shows up and helps guide them out. there’s some very funny moments of a very jealous ronan getting into weird conflict w/ a very smug deer 

anyWAY one day there’s like a festival, everyone’s drunk because its the middle ages and there’s not really a drinking age, gansey’s making another effort to make friends with anyone, and this one guy about his own age is like “ok look here i’ll teach you the folk dance everyone’s doing ok?” and gansey spends the night dancing w/ a handsome stranger, yes he will recognize the irony in the morning, but for now it goes. well badly because they’re both drunk but it’s fun, and then the guy says “ah, fuck it, i’ll finish teaching you next time we see each other” and gansey’s like “thats a little forward but ok!” and the guy (adam. its adam) panics and leaves while gansey’s back is turned and gansey doesn’t remember that last snippet of conversation the next day nor can he quite recall the stranger’s face. ronan does, because he was watching and not sure which of the two he was jealous of, but neither of them has any idea who the guy actually was. 

and then like, 3 days later, gansey falls asleep at the spot he usually hangs out in in cabeswater and wakes up in the early evening just in time to hear people yelling and for Pryderi to burst into view with an arrow in his flank. he collapses in a bush. gansey snaps into “protect friend” mode and gets the hunters off his trail by being all “oh a strange buck? i saw it pass that way over there friend!” and then when they’re gone he comes back and is all “alright pryderi they’re gone, let me just--” except pryderi’s not a deer anymore. it’s a boy. 

(Adam. its adam. the deer is adam.) 

gansey takes him home, gets the arrow out, noah’s like “i mean he’s not a fey, i dont know what turning into a deer is about but if he were fey the iron in that arrow would already have him dead. he might be partially fey but so little that he’s human in the ways that really matter”, over the next couple days they figure out that pryderi is in fact from the village and is a young man named adam parrish who’s been labelled a changeling and is assumed dead since he was yknow shot, gansey decides for now its probably best to keep him that way, but adam’s not getting better--apparently even having had the arrow in him as briefly as he did has poisoned him, he’s desperately ill and on the third day is finally like “get persephone” so gansey tries again (he’s tried several times over these days, they’d worked out that to have survived this long he must have someone else with a small degree of fey blood teaching him the ropes and the most likely suspects are the witches, but he’s hoping adam specifically asking him to will grant him permission enough to go in) and runs into a very frantic blue en route who as soon as he makes it clear he’s got adam is like “move your ass over on that horse im climbing on too” 

they get persephone, who turns into a fox rather than a deer, she saves adam, everythings cool except adam’s pissy now because he cant go back to the village and he has to give up on the attempts he had in the works to get out of town by working his way out and he takes it out on gansey who doesnt deserve it because this friendship is a mess, he’ll feel bad and take it back eventually but thats yet more posts ANYWAY YEAH theres our starting point 

(also worth noting: due to cabeswater being Right There,  p much everyone in this village actually has a small degree of fey blood, adam just won the genetic lottery) 

tl;dr adam’s a fey-blooded witch’s apprentice and he’s been the deer the whole time and thats the start of this au ty for coming to this ramble 

#longpost #trc #the raven cycle #lolsketch #gonna make separate posts w/ just the art in a sec #anyway i love this au with all of my heart its extremely self indulgent #deer boy au #because thats what ive been shorthanding it to

[halforc-mercenary]

𝔐𝔦𝔡𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯

                                                       22th December

The Night came fast this evening, washing over the coast, the old forests, and the scraggy mountains like a wave of midnight black ink. But although the night was so deep dark it could have been cut with a knife, it was not completly black since as soon as the sky darkned, the children of the village by the coast lightened up little lights put in small claymugs they would carry on branches while they would walk from house to house to exchange their little songs for apples, pieces of fruitcake, dried fruits and nuts until their little lights in the claypots hopped through the villages treets like bright shimmering wisps.  The Vöva Kilmettas hut lay on a hill at the edge of the village from which the small groups of wisps- the children wandering from door to door with their small lights- were good to watch while Mar waited for the old woman to return from the great Hall where most adults or at least the ones who were not needed to hand the children sweets, were celebrating the longest night of the year.  The Halforc had a good eyes, keen eyes, orcish eyes, so she easily saw the old Kilmetta before the old woman could see her as she slowly toddled with a deep bowed back up the hill to her hut. When mar had been a child, she had been told that Kilmatta had been a tall woman, yet she was now as small as a child as she walked deeply boweded and leaned on her staff, with two bright white braids framing her withered face and hanging down until down to her ankles as the shells, wooden trinkets and small claypieces weaved in the pale braids clinked like bells at every step. Still, when the old woman finally saw Mar sitting under the old peartree from which the Halforc had stolen pears as a dare when she had been a small child, Kilmetta seemed not in the slightest suprised and instead limped towards her to take one of the young womans small, freckled hands in hers with a quiet laughter, squeezing them gently. Although the old womans hands were as thin as brittle branches, Mar felt the muscles in them and without even wanting to stiffned as she imagined that those hands might be able to crush hers s after all the wise woman could call on Things and beeings that could give her enough strenght to do even worser things.  

“Ah, little Margvis. good to see you made it here  in time. I missed you in the celebration in teh great Hall.”, the old womans hands were as brown as chestnutwood, smooth and cool as ice. The Halforc stiffned by the touch, as if she feared the old womans hands would the next moment dig into her flesh like claws  but she beared the uncomfortableness. Kilmetta was old, yet Mar knew since she had been a little child that noone should anger her. So the Halforc only muttered: “ I doubt the people would have liked to see me joining the celebration.” Kilmetta just clicked her tounge nonchalantly, although her eyes almost disappeared undernher thick, snowwhite eyebrows, her eyes were as sharp, golden and glaring as the eyes of a young woman: “Eh, thats a problem that would have been sloved by  a good strike with my staff. Noone should be alone on their birthday. But anyway, you are here for me reading you the runes, so  did you thought about a question You want to ask the Runes?” “Yes.”, Mar answered and thought of her question, but  as she opned her mouth she instead wanted to say ‘ How will my Life be this coming Year?’ , ‘ Will i find a home and family?’ and then far far in the back of her head, so far hidden that she would never say it out loud she wanted to ask ‘ Will I find...Love?’, but instead of asking any of this she only asked sternly: “Will I survive the coming War?” Kilmetta grinned, showing pridefully the few teeth she had kept in her old age: “A good question. Better than ´How will my life be this Year?´ and `Will I finally find love?’. I had five of each last week.” Mar did not said anything but one of her freckled ears flicked nervously up and down and she felt like a child caught with their hands in a cookiejar. Not for the first time she wondered if Kilmetta knew what she was thinking or if she had hopped in Mars head, like she had often told she would hopp in the heads of birds to fly or in the heads of Raptores to hunt like those animals did.  Once again Kilmetta seemed to know exactly what was going through the young womans head as she only laughed- (Cheekily?) (Amused?) -knowingly and pulled Mar with her into her hut: “Ah, its cold! Come in, child, Come in!” The old womans hut was circular pit digged in the ground with a pointed roof made of straw set on top, it as warm inside, the earthwalls were covered with animal pelts for isolation and although the flames in the firepit in the middle of the hut were burned down, the ashes were full of ambers that shimmered like wisps in the blackness hanging like a veil in the hut.  "You know the first time I threw the Runes for you was when you were a two weeks old green bean in Hedwigs arms. You were so wee.”, Kilmetta,  old Kilmetta, deeply bowed Kilmetta had to look up to the short woman that was Mar and her eyes softned as she gently patted the Halforcs hand:  “You still are, child.” Mar could of course not remember the time when Kilmetta had used the blood of Mars umbilical cord to find out which of the many animnals roamning the Arathi Highlands would be her fylgja accompanying her through the coming years as a protetcor, but she had from that day visited the old woman every year on the evening of the 21th Decmer to the 22th December, to let the old woman throw the Runes for her as it was tradition.  Boundles of drying herbs were hanging from the ceiling, so Mar had to carefully sit down to not burry her head in the heavy smelling herbs while Kilmetta with hands that were much too nimble to belong to such a old woman kindled the embers in the ash back into flames and made red light wash like eveningred into the small hut. Kilmetta sat down before Mar beside the fire, grabbed for a small leatherpouch by her belt and spread pieces of bones marked with runes on the with pelts covered ground between their knees. “So then, lets start. Close your eyes, Margvis.” Mar did as she told, closed her eyes and then let her hand wander over the bonerunes on thr ground.She had done this he last years and had been teache dto read and throw runes as a child so she knew what to do:  The first Rune drawn would give a reading with a view on the past, the second gives a view on the present and the third would give a view on a possible future. Accordingly Mar took her time chosing the runes as beside her the fire hummed something that sounded like a lullaby of warmth and secureness.  After she had chose the three Runes, Mar opned her eyes again. A heavy frown appeared on her freckled face and drew a long line that was as deep as a scar between her thick eyebrows the moment she saw the Rune she had first chosen: “..not again Ehwaz.”  Kilmetta leaned her head back and laughed loudly, before she put the three runes in a proper order. The fireshine reflected in the polished raptorebone as if the runes were drawn with gold. “Same as every year, it seems!” The Halforc only pinned her ears back in annoyance, but said nothing. While Kilmetta still chuckled, Mar thoght about teh Rune poem she had learned by heart when she ahd been teached the runes:  The horse is a joy to princes in the presence of warriors. A steed in the pride of its hoofs, when rich men on horseback bandy words about it; and it is ever a source of comfort to the restless. Ehwaz was the Rune of wandering, of moving, of a riding horse.  After Kilmetta had stopped laughing she only winked at the young woman in all good humor: “Though it fits you. Ehwaz is your Rune of the Past, it says that your roots do not lay here, but somewhere else far away. You were sired and born here, but the you that is you had started to become on another world for the other half that would make you came from another world. It says that your roots lay where your grandmother and mothers roots started to grow but also from where the orcs came and from the Grandmother that was an Orc herself and from the world she lived in. You are neither of Azeroth nor are you fully of the orcs Homeworld and you will never belong fully to either, too. You are and will always be as much of a stranger here as you are at home. ” One of the Halforcs freckled ears flicked annoyed, but the young woman kept the tune of her voice respectful: “.... I was sired and born here, by now the Runes should have understood that i am now as much part of Azeroth as the Orcs in Dutorar are.” “Its not that easy. One Part of you began in the Outland. The Outland is as much part of you as the Highlands. Thats neither good nor bad, It just shows us that your past had been influenced by the Orcs homeland and whatever happens to it had happned and will happen to you for the Past will always influence the future.” Kilmetta chuckled again, the little light hanging in the room reflected in her golden eyes that looked disturbingly like the eyes of a young girl.  The Frown on the Mars freckled  face became even heavier, the heavy line between her thick eyebrows by now almost reached up to her hairline as she harrumphed: “I am in a much better shape than the shattered homeland of the Orcs.” “And i was not talking about your body, Margvis. One part of you shattered can be interpreted in many ways. But you are here for your future, so lets turn to the second rune; The Present-” She tapped a long, branchlike finger against the rune in the middle that was as pale as snow. Mar also recognized this Rune, although she could not help herself but automatically she took a deep breath to prove to herself that she could still breath, that she was not sinking, that she was not drowning.  It was Laguz, the deep Water, the still Lake:  The ocean seems interminable to men, if they venture on the rolling bark and the waves of the sea terrify them and the stallion of the deep heed not its bridle.

The Halforcs eyes were fixed on the rune that lay turned before her and while she all to well knew just as well as Kilmetta what the Rune met, she did not dared to look at the older woman and she (Sank down, sank down, sank down) flinched when Kilmetta reached out (Water filled her mouth, her throat, her lungs, burning like acide) to gently touch (And the hand in the back of her head was as unmoveable as a iron vice while there was only water, water, water.)  the Halforcs knee while she carefully and quietly hummed, as if she was afraid Mar would be startled by her voice:  “Laguz is the Rune of organic growth, lifeenergy and the flow of Life. Yet it lays reveresed here and that turns the meaning. This means your present is a stage of great confusion, it is filled with wrong decisions, you feel stuck in your situation, there is  fear and despair...you had a hard year, didn´t you, wee Margvis?” The Halforcs eyes, too green, too bright, too orcish, were fixed on the Rune of the Present, while she thought about the last year, while she thought about the battle at Lordearon and the days afterwards in which she had searched for her younger Halfbrothers and panic had closed tighter and tighter around her throat like a brutal hand, while she thought about burrying the steed that had been with her since Northrend, while she thought about the battles at Stromgarde under whichs banner she had been born but for which to live under her skin was too green, her tusks were to big, her eyes were too orcish.  “..I think a lot of people had a hard year, Kilmetta.”, she muttered and automatically she grabbed the hood of her Gugel adn pulled it deep down in her stark freckled face.  For a moment there were only the cracking of the flames filling the air, sparks rising between the from the roofs hanging herbs like fireflys. mars ears flicked quietly up adnd own when she heard Kilmetta shift a little to ease teh strain on her old bones as she leaned over to read the last chosen Rune that would predict the fate for the coming year. Out of the shadow laying like a dark veil on her face Mar peered down at the rune. 

From one moment to another the young woman sat up so straight she felt as if she had swallowed a broom.  Kilmetta blinked, one time, two times, three times: “..oh.” A sudden heat rushed over the Halforcs face and made the balck blood beneath her skin turn so hot it felt as if it had turned into lava. Although Mar did her very best, her usually deep womenly voice hopped up two octaves when she pressed out a snarl  from between cramped, heavy orcish jaws: “Not a word, Kilmetta!” The old womans golden eyes looked now even younger than before, a light danced in it like a michievious little flame and she grinned wildly which made the wrinkles on her old face longen even more: “I mean, it could be worse, thats indeed positive-” “Kilmetta, no..!”, automatically the Halforcs hand twitched towards the hilt of her sword, but she hold herself back as shame painted her face into a deep inkblack colour. The heavieness the Rune of the present had left fell of the two women like a heavy coat when Kilmetta giggled and Mar squirmed in utter embarrassment. Still laughing the Völva threw her head back , her long nail tapped a happy little melody on the Rune of Berkanan laying between them and Mars face turned a even darker shade of black:  The poplar bears no fruit; yet without seed it brings forth suckers, for it is generated from its leaves. Splendid are its branches and gloriously adorned its lofty crown which reaches to the skies.

There was still a almost childish giggle dancing in her voice when Kilmetta chirped: “Berkanan is the Rune of birth, general fertility, growth, arousal of desire. It stands for a coming new generation, for lust and love and predicts a love affair and new birth. I really would love to have that written in my Rune for the future, ha! You will have a nice year coming, it seems! Now that sounds like some fun! Will you bring your future babies back here so I can throw runes for them, yes?” Mar only huffed, her jaws cramped so hard together it made a thin pain like needlestitches stitch into her skull and she looked to the side flustered. When Kilmetta finished laughing she only smiled, her thick white braids rustled like snow as she leaned forward to Mar and lay a hand on the young womans shoulder: “Also Berkanan is the Rune of reneval of past sorrows. Its a good rune to have for the year, little Margvis. Especially after a year like this.”  Letting out a long breath the Halforc eventually just ran a hand over her face to cool down the blush burning like lava under her skin, it needed a few moments before she eventually looked back at Kilmetta. After all, it was right, The rune of renewing and growth was a good rune to have for the future. When Mar looked up the young eyes of he old women shimmered michieviously like a will-o'-the-wisp: “...Though, let me ask the important question here; will you name one  of your wee, peacolored babies after me, little Margvis?”

Mar only glared at the other woman with such a intensity that she seemed to try to burn a hole in the old womans head with sheer willpower.  She did not said anything, no of curse not. After all the Völva was the woman with the staff, the wise woman, the one who talked with the beeing living in the stonecircles, yet Mar could not stop shoving annoyed her thick, orcish tusks forward when Kilmetta bursted into utterly amused giggles once again that shaked her frail form like a storm:  “You will most certainly survive that comig war, child! And you will have a lot of Fun!”  

#Mars Birthday present! #22th December #Midwinter #halforcmercenary #arathihighland #arathi highland #stromgarde #I mde a online test for runes in mars name and this was he result: Mar will have some game! xD #A LOT OF FUN fr her this comign year xD #warcraft rp #world of warcraft rp #wow rp #strom #headcanon #halforc-mercenary

[queenofkings121-blog]

Duties of a Queen

[\Oh my gosh guys this is so messy! I wrote it in a walmart parking lot awhile back. Forgot about it til now. For what its worth, I hope y'all enjoy this./]

Warning: angst[?], violence [a but graphic]

A lone tear rolled down her cheek as she saw her betrothed placing a sweet kiss on lips that weren't hers.

'My heart belongs to you Gwen. It always has and always will. You know I'm only with her to secure the safety of this kingdom.

She knew that this marriage arrangement didn't begin with love, but she thought they had gotten there. She thought they were in love. Hell, they confessed their love for each other while in between the bedsheets the night before.

The situation would've rendered anyone broken, but Y/N wasn't weak. She straightened her posture, wiped the tear and made her presence known. Arthur and his lover were shocked. Y/N looked into the blue eyes she fell in love with. With a soft humourless chuckle she walked past him towards her chamber.

"Y/N!" Arthur yelled after her. He was hot on her heels. The prince nearly tumbled onto her when she stopped walking.

"If you are to apologize, don't. If you are here because of the treaty, leave." Her answer was simple. He ruined the chances of his kingdom being truly safe.

Y\N's kingdom, Nilanyth, was a small but lethal kingdom. It's got a quarter of the population of Camelot, but the 10 times the skill. All the citizens are required to learn how to defend themselves. Men,women, children. Its a four days ride from Camelot. With this alliance Camelot would've become the most protected kingdom.

Not only that, but what he said to Gwen wasn't the complete truth. Yes he loved Gwen, but he was happy and ready to marry Y/N. He was growing feelings for her but he's ruined those chances as well.

---

Arthur sat with his father for dinner but neither one ate. Uther because he had a lot on his mind, Arthur because the empty seat next to him was a reminder of his actions the previous day. He hasn't seen her all day and he could physically feel her absence. He would expect her to chuckle at something Gwain said, or reprimand Percival for being tall, but all he got was silence. It angered and saddened the Prince but he did not know why. He was about to speak when Y/N walked in.

She was dressed in her travelling gear and it confused both men.

"My King," Y/N said with a slight bow of her head before turning to Arthur. "Your majesty."

"Lady Y/N, is there a reason for this?" Questioned Uther.

"Yes, my King. I'm returning home. " Uther looked confused. "Before you say anything, allow me to explain." Uther nodded at the princess, all the while Arthur looked at her with a hurt expression. It was his fault.

"I will not marry your son. I simply cannot. I thought I could be in a love-less marriage but recent events proved otherwise. But the treaty stays. Nilanyth will assisst Camelot if the need ever arises. We will be allies and become a stronghold. Nilanyth will supply your people its protection, Camelot will supply my people with resources such as cattle and food."

"But your people are well off."

"This treaty is not onesided Uther, and I refuse it to be. My people are well off, but we do not supply without receiving. Selfish, yes, but it secures my kingdom."

"But it is not fair." Arthur piqued.

Aiden narrowed her gaze on the prince. "You know naught of being fair, nor taking care of those whom you claim to love. I do not expect you to understand this." She turned towards the king. "That is all. I return to my kingdom either with a signed treaty or not, it doesn't effect me nor my people at all. I'm merely doing this for your sake."

The King and Prince both relaxed their shoulders knowing that Camelot is safe, and it seems thats all they cared about. Her mother was right. True love is hard to come by when you're royalty. It seems everyone has different needs for a princess, but none for the girl.

"I bid thee a farewell and a safe trip back home Lady Y/N. The treaty will be signed before your departure. For what its worth, I am truly sorry that it didn't work out between you and my son. You would've made a fine Queen of Camelot." Uther replied. Y/N simply nodded and turned to leave. She desperately wanted the Prince to run after her and tell her that he made a mistake. That he truly loved her, but he sat still on his chair.

Y/N mounted her horse later that day with a stoic expression, and with a swift kick she left Camelot and the person who broke her heart.

---

It's been two weeks since the departure of Y/N and Arthur hasn't been the same. He's been moody, snapping at everyone, even Gwen. She was mad that Y/N could have such a hold on him even when she wasn't present. Her and Arthur fought more frequently, and made love less. When they did it was rough and quick, and void of love and affection.

Their fights have gotten more vocal and not a single ear within the walls of the castle were strangers to it.

"It's not a matter of you being a servant Gwen! Its a matter of you not being Y/N!" Arthur yelled and immediately regretted the words. The look on his loves face broke his heart.

"W-what?"

With a sigh, Arthur decided he needed to come clean. "Gwen, there was a time that I truly loved you. You were my world, but it seems that my heart yearns for someone else. Just as yours is." He wasn't stupid. He saw the glances and touches between Gwen and Merlin.

The two talked about what would happen for hours and came to a conclusion to end it. It wasn't healthy and they weren't happy together. Not anymore.

But Gwen went to her lover while Arthur went to his room. He wished to travel to Nilanyth but he knew he was unwelcomed. Especially after how he hurt Y/N. He knew he could go, but it would be for politics. Anything else, he would overstay his welcome. So, he settled for a letter.

---

Its been many moons since he sent his first letter. He would send one every week, and just like the week before, it went unanswered. He hoped and wished that she has been reading them. They would fall on deaf ears. He didn't expect her to answer. He heard of the passing of her parents not long after his second letter was sent. He desperately wanted to go and comfort her, but the funeral for the Royals was private. Only those in the Kingdom were allowed, and close friends of the couple from the other kingdoms.

The late Royal couple of Nilanyth fell ill with a sickness that no warlock, healer, or magician could heal. Y/N was heartbroken. She loved her parents dearly and to have them both gone crushed her soul. She knew the duties of being a Queen and King. Her father taught her that just because she was a female didn't mean she wasn't capable, and so he taught her the ways of a King as her mother did with being a Queen. He also taught her that having a man by her side is a mere accessory. That she didn't need a man to validate her. Her name alone should and is validation enough.

Y/N sat in front of her parents graves, along side of her ancestors, just staring at the headstones. A bitter smile came across her face.

"I miss you guys."

A warm breeze flew by and wrapped around the newfound Leader. The breeze was gentle yet had an aggressive feel to it. It danced around her, almost along to a song she couldn't hear. It felt like a hug from her parents. A hug hinting that everything will be OK. That she wasn't alone, never has and never will.

The Prince of Camelot seized sending his letters for his father had succumbed the same fate Y/N parent's had.

The two were now both crowned rulers of their own respective kingdoms.

---

Camelot was attacked by Morgana and her men and they nearly won if it wasn't for the warriors of Nilanyth. Just as they were about to slaughter the entire Kingdom, Riders of Nilanyth, being led by Y/N, rode in and swept the kingdom of the enemies.

Morgana screeched as she saw her people getting slaughtered by Y/N's warriors. Her eyes changed colors as she chanted a spell to discombobulate the new arrival. She smirked as Y/N's men fall unconscious. Morgana would've killed them, but she knew that whats left of her men would need morality boosts and in order to do so, they needed to kill. Morgana had just made that easier for them, but her thinking of her men would cost her greatly.

Y/N looked around and spotted the reason her men weren't able to fight. She charged her horse towards sorceror, but switched paths at the last second, riding for Morgause. Y/N knew that she had confused the sisters and used it to her advantage.

Y/N raised her sword, gripped the stirrups on her horse, and mightily swung her sword efficiently and effectively decapitating the blonde, as she rode by. She pulled the stirrups and signaled for her horse to stop and turn to face Morgana. She saw the black haired girl stare at her sisters headless body in shock. Y/N held out her blade and flicked her wrist, ridding her sword of the sorcerors blood, all while staring at Morgana.

From the corner of her eye she saw Gwain and Percival slowly approaching them. She shook her head and rode for Morgana once more, only to have her thrown off her horse by the use of magic. The Queen landed and hear a SNAP! and Y/N knew she had broken something, but she had a part to play in history and being dead wasn't it.

She had toughed through the pain, grabbing her sword and circled Morgana. The Queen ran and swung her sword purposely a bit too high. The force of her swing had caused Y/N to stumble forward. She turned quickly and aimed her sword at the enemy. Y/N looked over the sorcerers shoulder and saw the two knights in place. She stepped forwars and swung, partially hitting her target. She huffed and threw a steel star at Morgana. The latter turned her head and raised her hand to catch it. Just as she did Y/N rolled and sliced her sword towards the others midsection. Y/N ended on one knee, both hands gripping the handle of her sword, raised by her shoulder. She stood and turned to face Morgana. The sorceror laughed.

"You mis--" She was cut short as she coughed up blood. She looked down to her midsection and see her guts. Her eyes widened as she tried to fix herself.

Y/N raised her sword to her left, slashing to the right, cutting below her neck. Her sword flew slightly but she was quick to grab the handle, so that the hilt faced her, and swung her hand backwards sticking the sword into Morgana's head, ending her reign.

The two knights scoffed and Y/N smirked at them.

"She knew of your presenc. She assumed that I was going to be distraction, but distraction was not distraction, but merely a distraction to the distraction."

"I have naught a clue of what you just said Lady Y/N." Gwaine said utterly confused and tired. "Do you?" He asked Percival.

"I think?"

Y/N laughed. "Neither do I Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival. Speaking of distractions, where is your King?"

"He and Merlin are taking care of Mordred. Why do you ask?" Gwaine wiggled his eyebrows.

"Duties. Nothing more, nothing less."

The two Knights stared at her receding figure in thought. Both thinking it is shame that their King had let such a wonderful person walk out of his life.

#arthur pendragon x reader #arthur kingsmen #arthur pendragon #sir percival #sir gwaine #sir leon #morgana #morgause #merlin #gaius #y/n #reader imagine #sir lancelot #mordred #uther pendragon #king uther #gwen

[howoriginal-author]

The first chapter in all its rough draft glory!!!!!

yes i’m an ass hole, why do you ask? oh you say what kind of asshole doesn’t name his story and presumes that it is good enough that it claims the title of “THE STORY” well me obviously. thats what kind of ass whole. also i’m lazy and havent though up a real title yet. here’s the story you’ve all not been waiting for.  

The story begins

Chapter one rough draft

and maybe never a chapter. Who can say. Want some more needless jabbering?

Joel's life began when he finally managed to make Ren angry.  He and ren had been sparring, sparring of their own accord. It had been one of those days. A day that didn’t seem so bad at the start and then through a series of minor mishaps and annoyances turned into a minor annoyance itself. All of it culminated in a head at this moment. It had started as he and Ren were sent out on patrol by Leone, the head of boys.  He was not a little annoyed by the older boys seeming enjoyment of the day. Joel was more than content to ride in silence but Ren had constantly been talking, talking about father, about Leon about his prospects, about the weather, about anything that seemed to enter his fool head. Joel had rarely seen him so talkative.  Ren’s happiness peeved Joel to no end. Ren was simple and Joel was clever. But Joel was not clever when it came to swords and Ren was. Joel had forgotten what even lead  him to suggesting a sparring match. Apparently I’m not that clever after all. He thought to himself meditating on his own his foolishness. The match instead of working out  he anger as he had hoped it would it had only inflamed it. Normally he wasn’t so outpaced by Ren in skill. Ren was stronger and quicker too. In Fact he was just better all together except that he lacked guile. Joel would feint and lead and coax and trap but the problem was Ren was learning his tricks and had been and there were only so many ways to feint.  Joel had avoided sparring with Ren for almost a week.  Preferring fights he could win. Which meant never sparring at all. Every fighting man was trained with the sword and spear and Joel was in the awkward transition between boyhood and manhood, and was in the even more awkward position of being the weakest among the boys about to pass into manhood.  Still he could fight,  His anger had got the better of him and before he knew what was doing he was suggesting they spar.

“ Here?” Ren had asked surprised. They were on the plain alone running scouting at Loene the master of boys had commanded them to. Miles from their camp.

“ I’ve been getting rusty, and  Leone will have some task for us if he return now. We’ve seen no sign of anything out of the ordinary so far and won’t see anything out of the ordinary today. Now is as good a time as any.” he had said.  “look there’s a tree we can tie the horses and spar in the shade.”

He never let his anger show, no gritting of the teeth and no harshness to his voice. That was his way, never show weakness, and Joel considered anger a weakness. Which is why you don’t let yourself be controlled by it. He had thought wryly as he rode his horse towards the tree. No boy carried a blade before he earned it and  neither Ren nor Joel had earned their blades. but as all boys their age they both carried wooden swords. They booth dismounted and tied the horse to the a low limb of the sica tree, unstrapping their wooden swords and taking a stance.  Usually when sparring with Ren he detached himself from any desire to win. And so when he one a bout or two he was pleasantly surprised.  But this time he wanted to win, wanted it bad, and so he lost. Bout after bout he lost. Three bouts Ren batted aside Joel's own stick and  gave him three stinging welts. That was when things took a turn for the worse. After asking for yet another bout  Joel’s rage was burning inside him and he was having more and more trouble hiding it. As they began he tried to focus. He tried for that calm detachment, simply defend wait, Ren was good but he would become overconfident with each victory. But as before there was something in him that didn’t want to be clever. Why wait for victory, that not victory at all you should be able to take it.  Then as before he abandoned the strategy that worked. Abandoned feints and traps trying for brute strength and speed. To be faster than his opponent, to be stronger,  to be Better.  That was what he wanted to gain victory not through a combination of luck and patience. Simplifying waiting for Ren to make a mistake. A mistake that might never come,  but to win, on his term. To beat Ren. To win! It didn’t go that way. Again Ren knocked Joel’s underhand cut aside and used the motion to drive his own stick into Joel’s side. It should have ended there. Joel should have swallowed his pride and smiled and laughed it off. But there was a rage in him. Even as he knew Ren had him, even as he felt the stick smack his side he was driving his own stick  straight towards Ren’s shin. Joel felt the impact even as Ren’s own softer strike bruised his side. Correct etiquette for a bout dictated that the loser concede and then either leave the ring or ask for another challenge.  Formal etiquette was ignored. As Ren limped in a circle silently cursing while Joel stood considering the repercussions for what he had done. When he met Ren’s Eye’s he knew he was about to be in pain. Ren advanced toward Joel with a slight limp then planted his feet and raised his stick.

“Again.” he said

“ I must decline.” Joel returned licking his lips, “I’ve satisfied my need to practice for today.”

“Ten bouts.” Ren said. “ To satisfy to a challenge. You’ve only fought 4 so far.” Ren smiled his angry smile. “Are you so easily satisfied or just a coward?”  Why? why did I inflict this on myself? There was no choice. He had challenged Ren and Ren had the right to demand 10 bouts, he couldn’t walk away all he could do was defend himself.  Joel raised his stick into a low guard. Now my heads clear, just when it’s too late to begin making wise decisions.   He and Ren had been sparing as long as he could remember. The children of the Dharuh were taught to ride before they could walk and to fight for they could speak. As half brothers Ren and Joel were raised to compete to see who would take their father’s standard. Ren was better, but Joel had always assumed he was just a step behind. He was wrong. Ren lunged into a feint then attack with a sweeping blow Joel barely managed to block the first strike the the second he had no hope of blocking. Pain lanced up Joel’s shin as Ren’s stick slammed into it. Joel silently cursed himself. Why? Why did I allow this to happen. Why can’t I even defend against my brother. Why am I weak? Two more bouts and and it was clear that Ren had been holding back in all previous fights. Each bout Joel meet a strength and speed he hadn’t previously encountered in his brother. Each time Ren struck at Joel’s shin. On the seventh bout Joel’s left leg was going numb, the calm that had replaced his earlier anger been torn away. Why can’t I win. He had tried his best. He was clever he was quick but Ren was better. Why? Even as he asked the question Joel mocked himself. You’re sad that you can’t win a practice fight against your own brother, what a hard life you lead. But you need not worry when you fight a real enemy there will be no reason so mourn losing, you’ll be in Bhale’s embrace after all. Again Joel took his stance left leg shaking slightly. Bhale if you let me win I will give  my blood to you. Just let me win. Such pleas to the god of battle rarely worked. After all Bhale was a god of the strong not of the weak, but Joel needed all the help he could get. When Joel raised his sword into a guard Ren attacked in the space of a breath. Joel parried the first blow, but the second knocked him off balance. Ren’s third blow was aimed at Joel's shin again. The petty nature of his brother infuriated him. His own stupidity and lack of skill infuriated him. No No, No! The word rose in him, in his head, through him. He realized he was yelling it, and as he yelled he felt the word leave him. He had never felt anything like it. It was as if something had taken shape from his mouth. He was reminded, inexplicably of carving a wooden horse as a child. The feeling of making, shaping the wood. At the same time he felt as if something was being drawn forth from him. Time seemed to slow as these feelings and memories passed over him. He felt, rather than saw his brothers stick shatter. It was like nothing he had ever seen. The wooden sword split into a thousand shards. Like a rock dropped from top of a canyon.  The rain of splinters that followed  battered his face. He stepped back involuntarily, lost his balance and fell on his back. Ren took the explosion of the practice sword better. Managing to stay on his feet. He looked at the hilt of his stick now the only thing left that wasn’t a splinter. Ren’s expression of one of minor perplexity. He looked up and met Joel’s eyes.

“Well now.” Ren said. “ you’re a battle mage.”

#fantasy #fiction #writing #story #medevial #creative writing #chapter 1

[madame-boss-to-you]

5. western pt. i

uGH

apologies bc i am not an expert in the western genre i don't even know what western really is isn't it about ... trains?? and robbing them?? and horses and cowboys OH AND SHERIFFSSSSS AND OUTLAWS AND WANTED POSTERS AND WHISKEY AND SALOONS WHERE THEY ALL HAVE THEIR BAR FIGHTS

ye thats basically all i know im doomed OTL let's just get this over with

Changkyun:

ok so let's start this off with 

Outlaw!Changkyun

so he's got his posters hanging around town

for this guy is a WANTED man

and at this point they want him either dead or alive

"jUST STOP ROBBING US GE E Z "

only problem is

no one actually knows what he looks like

bc he's a sneaky robber like that

so they probably refer to him as the sly fox

or smth like that bc no one knows anything about him

he's also so young and so unsuspecting

but that's bc he's been a thief his whole life

and knows exactly how to pickpocket the rich in this ugly ol' town

he's also a sharp shooter

so he's got two pistols with him at all times

and has the PERFECT aim

do not even

if he wants you dead

you'll be dead

he's probably the type to name the pistols something too like

Bonnie and Clyde

(wait-... maybe not. since that movie hasn't come out yet but...)

ANYWAYS

He's not a part of any team

any group

and he  prefers to work alone.

He's never thought of himself as a "for hire guy" either until....

One day, he walks into his favorite saloon (read: the ONLY saloon in this town). He orders a drink, plays a game of poker with his usual mates and maybe gets into a fight or two all the while, constantly examining the room for potential rich victims...

AND THEN

in walks a young "missus"... she looks a little lost, confused and vERY RICH! Her dress is definite proof that her father's got money.... And that purse she carries around with her, as if she was dangling it in front of him, tempting him to come over and get it.

oH HE WILL

So he smoothly walks up to her by the bar and strikes up some friendly conversation with her. Just some casual small talk to hopefully distract her enough so he can get the purse and go... but

She's a really nice person to have a conversation because she genuinely seemed interested in what he had to say, which is rare for the rich daughters of some big shot tycoon from a neighboring town. She wasn't stuck up or spoiled. She was .... so kind.

It wasn't like the topics to he had to say were particularly interesting or anything. It was about this STUPID UGLY TOWN. And he wasn't advertising it because honestly....

"This town is a wasteland, Miss. It hasn't rained in almost 50 years, so the lake's all dried up. There are neither oil nor gold in the mines ..." So basically, this town straight up sucks. And he hopes that her rich ol' daddy doesn't have any interest in investing in this slowly decaying town.

To his surprise, she just grins at him and shakes her head

(pls don't do that Mon his heart did a flip and he nearly passed out.)

"But I'm not here for your oil, nor your gold or your dried up lake." She replies, throwing him aback.

but if she wasn't interested in the things everyone else cared for, what did she want?

"I'm here for you." She muses, "You're the famous Sly Fox, aren't you? Your posters are everywhere here."

Is she-.... impressed?

A chill runs down his spine in panic as he's ready to dash out because sHE'S NOT SUPOSED TO KNOW THAT

Unable to reply, she hands him a little white card and tells him not to worry, she won't report him to the local sheriff, since he didn't actually steal her purse

which is mind blowing because AGAIN HOW DID SHE KNOW HE WAS GOING TO???

but she does encourage him to come to the written address at 8 pm tonight.

She gives him one last smile and a polite "Good day. I hope to see you later." before heading out of the saloon, and leaving him in shock and with the tab to her drink.

#bc Mon didn't even bother to pay for her drink lm ao

[jeweledfaith]

“Close to the Edge” Arno x German Female Reader

Note: The following short story contains a suicidal attempt. Viewer Digression is advised.

Rated: M-17, For the heavy suicidal scene

Animus Files: #24109266 

Journal entry by an unidentified female writer

Location: Versailles, France

September 12, 14, 17th, 1794

My hands are trembling. Trembling like autumn leaves feeling the presence of the warnings of winter approaching. It has been a long time since I wrote in this journal. It has seemed to be a great source of peace and comfort during this dark time. That I mean escaping from the Fatherland’s templar rite. They’d threatened to kill me, just because my ideals had been reformed. They see me as another Cormac. A Verräter, I can’t necessary blame them for thinking my ideals are not the kind that they’d expected out of me. I was raised among the rite, since I was the daughter of a fallen templar soldier. I was a fast learner, even though my english and french needs work. I seemed more fluent in Französisch, despite me sometimes breaking back to my fatherland roots.

But now, after the loss of the one I love, and my life threatened, I escaped, and rode hard aiming for Switzerland. But alas, France’s roads had proved to be dangerous due to the developing revelation that seems to be a song that never ends. Like a  Kinder-Kinderreim (child’s nursery rhyme). Theives could appear, and the borders of Switzerland and France I suspected and now heavily guarded.

A cold breeze went through me like a dagger as I rode my horse in the city of Versailles. It seemed like the city had seen better days. Even skeleton bones seem to have a Schönheit (beauty) to it. As the rain began to send icy darts upon my horse and I, I shielded my eyes to see a rather decent manner. I steered the horse pass the opened gate and into the barn. After feeding it with the stables surprisingly conditioned hay, rubbed it, and watered it in the mangers. I tightened my hood around my rose cheeks and cantered into the manor. 

The windows were barred from the inside. Blankets and sheets covered most of the furniture and pieces of Kunst (art). I was drawn to the fireplace, hoping to see wood near by. There was wood that seemed to have once been lite up, yet cold as ever. I gathered the wood, and as I lend down, a piece of twig caught the edge of a sheet covering a painting. The waiting reflected that of a beautiful Frau (woman). Her hair reminded me of Feuer (fire). And a smile I know I could trust as an ally with a sign of intelligence and assurance. As I looked back down, I noticed that a few empty glass bottles were littering the tops of the fireplace. I was unexpectedly turning around to see more bottles littered around the corners of the room. Suddenly, the sound of a clanging of empty bottles echoed from what I assumed was the second floor. Checking my belt for my dagger, I slowly walked up the dusty staircases.

As I made it to the top base of the stairs, I noticed a candlelight reflecting on the floor. I turned and followed it into a dark room with only a lone candle burning. As I entered, I noticed a figure sitting on the windowsill. His face seemed to be stained with tears and great sorrow. As I quickly analyze him from a hidden distance, I noticed that he had long dark hair that was tied back. He wasn’t husky like most assassins I had the misfortune of fighting against, still he had a fairness to him; yet strong. Like a fencer or swordsman of the courts. He had a long scar upon his cheek.

Oh shirr. I neglected to say that I discovered he was an assassin in the most unexpected way. He had his hidden blade extended out from his arm. He looked down upon it, like bringing in a servitude of a dream. He inched it up, and suddenly I slowly approached him as I realized that the blades tip was dangerously close to his neck. The tip stopped mere inches, but enough to peck this man’s road apple. Little beads of blood started to rise.  

“Don’t...do it!” I cautioned the man in my broken language barrier. My hand was lifted in caution, though I was a few yards away.

“Leave me be! I don’t need anyone else to further convince me.” The man demanded quietly, never looking at me. “Now!”

My mind was racing, yet cautious. “I’m not sure what you mean Herr (sir).” I attempted again in a calm deminer. I step closer and closer. “If you were so sure on ending your life without...well...you would of done it by now.”

“This doesn’t concern you...”

“Ich kann nicht, ich bin jetzt beteiligt (I can’t, I’m involved now).” I said in my native german.  

“So now the assassins are sending german foreigners now?” The man said in a dry voice that seemed to be mocking himself. Obviously the bottles of wine had an impact in his thinking.

I then took a chair closest to me, sat down and removed my pistol. “Nein. I’m neither assassin, nor a templar. Even though once upon a time I was.”

“You’re with the templars?” He asked, finally looking at me, but his blade was still upon the neck, the river of red slowly trailed down to his white tunic.

“Was.” I corrected him. “I was a templar. Now...I’m running from the very rite that raised me. Because I renounced my oath to the templars.”

“Why are you here...” 

“Oh now your asking me the questions. Since I so briefly gave you my soul for keeping your hand for extending, your life can spare another minute explaining why.” It was a huge gamble on my part, but something about my mentioning of the templars seemed to aid in the prolonging I dared hoped for. “From what I see here, you have an assassin’s blade, yet you’re stripped of your robes. Did you also renounce...”

“I was ostracized Mademoiselle. Exiled. Forced out by those who promised me answers and peace.”

I knew I needed to keep him talking. So I brushed up my french in my head, “ Quel était votre crime monsieur (what was your crime sir)...”

There was a prolong silence. Was hat er in Christus Namen getrunken? I thought. I decided that if he was going to act like that, I may as well give him my name. He looked to the window rail again without a word. I huffed and expressed my concerned hybrid with frustration. “You know, at this point, the other half of the party gives their name too.”

He blinked in thought. “Arno. Arno Victor Dorian.”

“Arno. A german name, yet breed french. Any of your parents born Deutsche (German)?”

Arno shook his head, the blade’s edge traced a half inch from his neck. “My mother was from Austria.”

I nodded. “Right, I should of noticed the Austrian traits. Still, close to German to me.”

“What dose it matter what nationalism we belong to based on our breed?”

“What is in a nationality?” I asked dryly. “We are both born under the line of Noah anyways. Survivors of the große Flut (great flood). And now, I know the world isn’t made of turkish delights and chocolates; but surely there is a brighter future.”

“Why are you saying this? What do you know?”  His voice trembled, his hand shaking. “What do you know of nationalities, sides, ideals...” he pause for a moment, blinking misty eyes. “Of loss...and regret...and...”

“Love?” Even I surprised that I said the word. He turned and stared at distant; yet surprised face upon me. “Of loss and love. You may not think I understand what you’re going through, but Von Gott I know the syndromes of a human being who lost the person they love in the force of life’s tragedy of fate. Just as you’ve figured out a way to live glücklich bis ans Lebensende (happily ever after), the ideals of a single templar rite lead the men who raised you to kill the man you love.” A tear strayed down my eye unexpectedly. Yet I never reached my hand up to wipe the tear away from my sweat and dirty stained face. I took a breath. “You thought a long time of just jumping onto a street waiting for a incoming wagon to run you over. But yet, after taking time, healing, and analyzing those responsible for...for the suffering. You can renounce from the foundation of corruption and Arroganz and stolen documents in order to be sure that no one would ever know the templars weaknesses. And just as you get closer to Switzerland, a forsaken revelation that was the result of poor decisions and spilt blood of thousands littered the streets. And now, here you’d stand, staring upon a man who is close to the edge of Der Weg eines Feiglings.”

He looked. He listened. He analyzed the words I said in his head. I was amazed on how I must of sounded like Father Hans from my home perish. I wondered if his influence did gave me strength, despite no longer being a member of the rite like myself. But thats a tale for another day.

The man. Arno. He shook his head. “Merde. Your just telling a fable just to distract me.”

“A distraction? Yah. A folk tale? No.”

“Then tell me your “assassin lover’s name” in french.” He demanded. “And if it is true, say the creed’s code in my tongue if you know it.”

I saw what card he was playing, his face expressed an emotion of a way to make a bargain with death and me. But I know how to get him to talk while I thought of the translations in my head. “Fine. But first, you must give the rites code to me in german. If you get it right, I’ll give you mine at once.”  Now any man would think its a prolonged nonsense; but in honest truth, a desperate man’s mind is always clouded from judgment. 

“qui” He nodded. He thought of the words, “Möge der Vater des Verständnisses uns führen” He then said “Elise”

“rien n'est vrai tout est permis. Matthew”

We both looked at each other, both seeing that we both understood both sides of the fence. He never realized that I was closer to him, enough to slowly reach up my hand, grabbed his wrist and slowly pulled it away, feeling the hot sticky blood on top of my fingers from his pricked neck. I placed the blade at the base of my neck. “If anyone is to blame for your loves death...it’s me. I know she maybe a templar, that due to the jeweled cross you clutch on for dear life. But if you want someone to die, better me, and not yourself Arno. Elise wouldn’t want that, wouldn’t she?”

The man looked deep into my eyes, and hearing the drop of the metal cross onto the marble floor, he took my other hand and he removed his blade away from my neck. He withdrew his blade back and shook his head, “No miss...I’m sure Matthew wanted you to have a brighter future, and continue his mission upon these documents.” We both stared, and in exhaustion, he collapsed into my arms. I bent down and allowed tears to stream down my shoulder, while I silently cried myself. 

Thanking God for saving a man’s soul for once in my lifetime. No longer was I a templar, but a woman who only came in a forsaken city in a forsaken country to save a lost soul. And somehow, I know that I have a new mission here in France. A chance to heal. For both of us. 

And now, it’s late, and tomorrow, Arno and I will seek the assassins. A praise I never thought I would see myself writing here. But paper is more quiet then mouths. 

"

#arno dorian #Assassin's Creed #assassin's creed unity #arno x reader #german #suicide awareness #suicide #journal #entry #france #french revelation

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Nights of Villjamblah

by Wardog

Friday, 24 June 2011

Wardog tries and fails to like Nights of Villjamur.~

I really should have liked Nights of Villjamur more than I did. And that's the sort of line that sets one up for a damning review but I honestly feel quite bad about it. It's full of the sort of things I generally appreciate but for some reason it left me frustrated that it wasn't, with all this promise and potential, somehow better. Without attempting to make uncontrolled, unsupported declarations about a genre as complicated and evolving as fantasy, I'd put Mark Charan Newton on the same team as writers like Abercrombie and Abraham, although if you're into literary genealogy you can certainly trace the influence of Vance and Mieville in there too. But what I'm trying to get at here is that we're talking punchy, modern fantasy; brutal, cynical, self-consciously anti-Tolkeinesque and hopefully weighing in at five hundred pages or less. The problem is, however, that as much as I enjoy this uppity, edgy, fantasy, there's already an extent to which it's becoming stale. Maybe if I'd read Nights of Villjamur two years ago, my tiny mind would have been appropriately blown, but I came away with the distinct impression it was like Abercrombie without the style and Abraham without the sophistication. On the other hand, it is a début novel and it is not by any means totally awful so I'd certainly be at least mildly interested in seeing how Newton develops.

The Jamur Empire is yer typical rich, sprawling, corrupt fantasy Empire, except there's an ice-age coming, and the Emperor has just killed himself in a fit of crazed paranoia. Cue: political shenanigans, and some other stuff. The reason I'm having a hard job summarising the plot effectively is that it's one of those multi-stranded jobbies, but the threads only come together right at the end, if at all, which makes the experience of reading Nights of Villjamur rather disjointed. Some of the involved parties are: Commander Brynd Lathraea, doing soldiery things, Inquisitor Jeryd investigating the murder of a city councillor, and Randur Estevu who hails from some kind of island race of martial artists / sex workers / dancers and has been brought to Villjamur to teach the Emperor's daughter how to dance.

I liked, in abstract terms, nearly all of these characters but their plots arcs were so wildly different in tone and style that, rather than illuminating different aspects of life in Villjamur as I suspect must have been the intention, they interfered with each other. Jeryd, for example, acts like he's in The Maltese Falcon - he's old and weary and tormented by the failures of his personal life. He's also a weird cat-person-creature but let's not go there. I had no idea what was going on with the rumel, and the last time I encountered a cat-based race it was in Green, so I'm still scarred. But his consistent failure to solve the crime, when even I was sitting there able to solve the crime, was infuriating and the the whole “one honest man versus political corruption” theme does not, in this case, co-exist comfortably in a world where you also have Brynd dealing with the brutal slaughter of entire populations. I know the counter-argument to this is “ah, but that's the point” but if it isthe point Newton does not carry it off particularly successfully, especially when Randur's swashbuckling antics are entirely at variance with both. Newton goes to great pains to create a society on the verge of ruin, a city rife with decadence and cruelty, and a world overrun with monsters and yet Randur is able to semi-thwart a massive political uprising, and stage a daring rescue, with a jolly group of peasants, who, despite living in deprivation and povert, are suddenly willing to fight to the death in defence of their oppressors. I don't, per se, have a problem with the more cartoon elements of fantasy but you can't serve up Chandler, Owen and Disney simultaneously.

It doesn't help that the supporting cast is extensive and depressingly one-dimensional. You have a Tuya, the jaded prostitute, Tryst, Jeryd's ambitious Iago-like aid who does, in fact, spend two thirds of the book engaged in acts of motiveless malignancy, Marysa, Jeryd's tediously virtuous and personality devoid wife, Eir the feisty Emperor's daughter who has her eyes opened to the true poverty of her kingdom, the fence with a heart of gold, the scheming councillor, the mad cultist, and so on and so forth. The three main characters are marginally better drawn but they lacked any true psychological depth or complexity.

Jeryd, for example, is manipulated by Tryst into believing his wife has cheated on him. Heading home in a partially drug-fuelled rage, he strikes her. Conveniently she wakes up somewhat confused and Jeryd lets her believe it was a dream. Neither the dimensions or the consequences of this are ever properly explored, nor are we really given opportunity to ponder how much responsibility (if any) Jeryd bears for either the action itself, or lying about it afterwards. Brynd's big secret is that he's gay, in a society where homosexuality is punishable by death, due to a line in one of the scriptures. I actually quite liked Brynd, but being tormented and alienated is still not really a substitute for having a personality. The presentation of his homosexuality wavers between the quite good and the horrendously heavy handed. Something that does come across well is the fact that it would be incidental to his character if not for the world in which he lives. And the chapter in which he meets up with his lover, Kym, struck me as reasonably successful, as the encounter is recounted with neither sentimentality nor sensationalism. But it's the only moment of subtlety in the entire text, and the rest of the time we're treated to reflections like this:

“Where's the big freak?” Apium said, before yawning and stretching with the grace of a tramp, astride his black horse. “I take it you mean Jurro?” Brynd said, after considering for a moment that he himself was the freak, or maybe Kym – men who loved other men, and who'd be killed if discovered. He could never shake off the paranoia.

I understand that this would be something on his mind a lot, but it's the clumsy exposition that really sinks it for me. This exchange takes place on page 331 of my edition – if I haven't got that Brynd is gay, and that being gay is punishable by death, by this point in the book, I don't think there's much more an author can be expected to do for me. Much of the interior life of the major characters is narrated to us in this flat, expository way. I don't want to fall back on trite maxims about writing but I would have liked to see character traits illuminated or demonstrated more through thoughts, interaction and behaviour, rather than simply being told about them.

Randur, for example, comes to the city through a slightly spurious set of circumstances in order to raise enough money for a cultist to bring his mother back from the dead. In order to get the cash, he has his job at the palace, teaching Eir to dance, but he also sleeps with rich, older women and steals their jewellery. He does explain, at one point, that he feels like he owes his mother a debt for all she has sacrificed for him but it never really feels convincing. After all, sense of filial obligation is one thing. Necromancy another. Needless to say, over the course of the book, he and Eir fall for each other and it turns out that resurrecting his mother isn't going to be possible, even with the money in hand. Here is the description of Randur's response:

His world imploded. Lying on Eir's bed later, he felt he wanted to vomit, but instead he cried like a ten-year-old as he told her everything. She sat next to him and waited for him to finish – he knew that, and he felt ashamed, to expose his emotions like this. But, despite her age, she possessed an unexpected, motherly quality. He liked that. After that, he got up and left, walked for two hours across the city bridges, then returned, damp and cold. Then he resumed crying. Eir held his hand. “It's understandable you're upset, Rand, so don't be so harsh on yourself.” She got up and lit lanterns and soothing incense and waited for him to compose himself. He realised he was comfortable being vulnerable in front of her. Soon he began to feel better, until somehow his failings as a son didn't seem to matter quite as much.

Given that this is a significant moment in Randur's personal development, and his relationship with Eir, I felt it was rather over-narrated but I read the ease which he apparently gets over it as evidence that his original goal was immature, and not something we were really expected to take seriously. However, a chapter later we're being narrated at again:

Eir had even given him some jewellery: a plain silver chain to go around his neck, two rings for his fingers. She had supported him so much that he felt he owed her is very soul if only he could give it. Eir's biggest gift to him wasn't monetary but psychological. Perhaps all he'd ever needed was to actually love someone else.

Once more, I can't quite unpack the tone of this. It sounds so ludicrously trite that I was half-tempted to read it as being in some way ironic. And I'm, incidentally, not thrilled with Eir's sudden detour into maternal saviour, although I can't tell whether that's meant to be Randur's distorted perspective, since Eir only has about three personality traits and none of them, thus far, have been even remotely maternal. But ultimately it's just another example of the way that heavy-handed attempts to explain the psychological development of the characters ruins their portrayal.

The other thing you can see from these quoted paragraphs, is the occasional banality of the writing, and its general clumsiness. For example, we have three awkwardly repeated 'thats' far too close to each other in “he knew that, and he felt ashamed, to expose his emotions like this. But, despite her age, she possessed an unexpected, motherly quality. He liked that. After that...” The book is riddled with such unnecessary annoyances, and the style itself is as inconsistent as everything else. Dialogue is generally naturalistic, with a fair few fucks thrown in for good measure, the prose style is plain and expository to the point of tedium, but occasionally Newton struggles towards a Mieville-like excess, which often just falls flat:

A truculunt pain shot through him and he screamed … he stumbled forwards, his hands clutching for wet stones, then began to spit blood on the ground … Sensing his life fluid filling the cracks between the cobbles, the blood beetles came and began to smother him, till his screams could be heard amplified between the high walls of the courtyard. One even scurried into his mouth, scraping eagerly as his gums and tongue. He bit down so he wouldn't choke, split its shell in two, and spat it out, but he could still taste its ichors. Councillor Ghuda was violently febrile.

I honestly have no idea what that means. I understand the individual words but the connection between them, and the the being eaten alive by bugs, not so much. A major component of Newton's Mieville Aspirations is the city of Villjamur itself, which I'm sure is meant to exist as vividly in the narrative as New Crobuzon in Perdido Street Station. I'm honestly not a huge fan of Perdido Street Station and I found the descriptions of the city a little overweening but I will admit that they got the job done. By contrast, Villjamur never became real to me and, if anything, Newton is trying so hard to have it make an impression on the reader that the overall affect is one of artificiality. Devices over conviction. For example, there's a self-conscious weirdness to Villjamur - it has blood beetles and banshees, and garuda – but these just feel like a checklist. And scenes or chapters tend to end with the narrative moving away from the thoughts and actions of the characters to more general statements about the mood of the Villjamur. The contrast, I suspect, is meant to create a sense of distance between the struggles of individuals and the vast intricacies of the city itself:

After that the three of them watched the falling snow in companionable silence. Street fires and lantern lights glared defiantly for another bell, but one by one they fell into shadow. Voices in the streets beyond quietened and soon there was only the sound of the wind probing the city's countless alleyways.

However, the more Newton falls back on this technique, the more transparent it becomes, and the more I resisted his attempts to “sell” me Villjamur. As the book progresses, he takes to refering to the city as if it should now be familiar to us (“Another one of those melancholy nights of Villjamur, in which a pterodette called out across the city's spires so loudly it sounded like a banshee”) but by that stage I was already convinced that Newton had failed to force me into a relationship with the city, and therefore this assumption of familiarity annoyed me and further alienated me from the Villjamur Newton was so desperately trying to evoke.

The thing is, barrage of negativity aside, it's not as bad as all that. I did, after all, read the thing and I was mildly engaged by the plot and some of the characters, even in spite of the heavy-handed narration and my increasingly irritation with having Villjamur forced down my throat. As a personal, rather than general, criticism I realised at about the halfway point that there wasn't a single interesting woman in the entire book. Obviously having diverse and well-rounded female characters isn't a moral necessity and it's perfectly reasonable for any writer to simply not be interested but for me to really enjoy a text I'd probably prefer it wasn't a massive sausage party. The Emperor's eldest daughter seems intriguing but she isn't in it enough for me to be able to judge. Eir is feisty-by-numbers and, consequently, irritating. Tuya starts off promising and then gets drugged and abused by Tryst, in his pursuit of revenge over Jeryd, so she essentially becomes a cipher. Jeryd's wife is so lightly sketched she's barely a character at all. To be fair to Newton, the men aren't that interesting either but they at least get more page time. However, the one thing I did like was what I perceived to be a fairly healthy attitude to sex, both heterosexual and homosexual. There are a few non-explicit but nicely down-to-earth sex scenes. But, like anything else in Villjamur, sex is largely another commodity – and the men trade it as much as the women do. I liked the fact that women, incidental though they are to the text in general, were as active in pursuit of sex as men, just as acquisitive of pretty young things, and seemed to derive as much pleasure from it.

This being so, and because we haven't had one for a while, I present: Fantasy Rape Watch for Nights of Villjamur.

Number of non-straight men: 2

Number of non-straight men killed: 0

Number of non-straight women: 0

Number of men who sell themselves: 3 maybe*

Number of men who sell themselves who are killed: 0

Number of men who sell themselves who find twu wuv: 2

Number of men who sell themselves where the woman obligingly makes herself look hot for them: 1

Number of women who sell themselves: 1

Number of women who sell themselves who are killed: 1

Number of women who sell themselves who find twu wuv: 0

Number of women who sell themselves who manage to survive a bomb: 0

Number of virtuous, married women who manage to survive the same bomb: 1

*I am including in this category, Randur who sleeps with rich old women in order to pay for necromantic magic, Tryst who sleeps with an old cultist in order to acquire something he needs, and Kym who it seems to be suggesting gets around a bit.

Obviously, I'm being slightly unfair on Newton here. I wasn't actually all that bothered by the fact that Randur manwhores his way around Villjamur and this is sort of portrayed as being vaguely cool, whereas Tuya is stuck in a cycle of loneliness and bitterness. I saw this as being largely down to the fact they are very different people, and Randur is young whereas Tuya is forty. However, I was a bit annoyed by the fact Tuya, who had all the markings of being quite interesting (shock!), was treated the way she was by the narrative - victimised, sidelined and then conveniently killed.

In conclusion I would say that although I have really hammered into Nights of Villjamur, it's not actually as bad as all that. I found it quite frustrating to read but I didn't actively hate it: I liked Brynd, and Newton seems to have quite a good grip on his gender politics. It certainly has some promise and I can only hope that this goes some way to being fulfilled in the later books.Themes:

Fantasy Rape Watch

,

Books

,

Sci-fi / Fantasy

,

Emocakes

~

bookmark this with - facebook - delicious - digg - stumbleupon - reddit

~Comments (

go to latest

)

valse de la lune

at 16:05 on 2011-06-24I remember really wanting to read this at one time, then a friend told me it was meh and I wrote it off. To this day I'm still vaguely curious but the fear of terribad racial/cultural appropriation compels me to keep my distance. Alas.

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Wardog

at 16:23 on 2011-06-24Well, as I said in my usual lukewarm fashion I quite liked Brynd... but my dominating response was "meh" over "ick." The novel is so bland that it's quite hard to get really wound up about it. I felt that the social issues, related to the coming ice-age (climate change, ho ho), Brynd's homosexuality and ye typical fantasy racism were pretty shallow, and consequently there wasn't really anything to get a grip on, either to praise or to criticise. I did think the islanders of Folke - they do dancing, swordplay and sex apparently - were a bit dodgy though, but to be honest I dismissed it as typical of the genre. I can see how there would be plenty to bother you though. I guess I was too busy fighting the bored to pay sufficient attention. Oh, and of course, you get the prejudice towards non-human races ... but, come on, cat-people are not a stand-in for people of colour.

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Vermisvere

at 16:48 on 2011-06-24Hmm...this doesn't sound like something I'd be keen to enter into my usual compulsory reading list, although it might be something I could probably sit through some cold winter night when I'm bored out of my mind.

And the way you describe it, Villjamur seems to strike me as being a bit like a fantasy version of Gotham City, minus all the crazy supervillains and Batman running around.

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Wardog

at 17:03 on 2011-06-24It is incredibly well-regarded so it's possible I've just experienced a profound failure of taste.

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Arthur B

at 17:10 on 2011-06-24

I don't, per se, have a problem with the more cartoon elements of fantasy but you can't serve up Chandler, Owen and Disney simultaneously.

This sounds like exactly one of the problems I had with

Steve Cockayne's debut novel

- it tried to fuse the conventions of so many different takes on fantastic material that it ended up tripping over itself. Ah well.

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http://everythingisnice.wordpress.com/

at 17:34 on 2011-06-24Not much point whiting out that spoiler about Tuya when you've got the Fantasy Rape Watch right above it!

I reviewed the book for Strange Horizons and came to a similar view to you. This was against the prevailing view at the time but I wonder if that has changed a bit. I've certainly seen lots of people suggesting Newton has improved as a writer as the series has progressed and have perhaps recalibrated their view of

Villjamur

(which is, after all, a debut novel). I've not read any of his other novels but I will definitely try him again at some point.

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Wardog

at 17:50 on 2011-06-24

Not much point whiting out that spoiler about Tuya when you've got the Fantasy Rape Watch right above it!

That is a good point - I fail at spoilers. But I guess you'd have to be paying attention to notice, or already familiar with the book.

I feel quite bad about not liking this more but since I remember a flurry of "zomg!awesome" at the time it came out I was genuinely a bit shocked. I am quite curious about his other books though, even in spite of my lack of enthusiasm for this one.

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Cammalot

at 22:05 on 2011-06-24Oddly enough, I'd just read through the entire thread on this book on Westeros.org last night. I came away feeling very intrigued by the premise(s) but with very mixed feelings about the (potential) prose.

But basically with so many things that have been really hyped in the last few years, elements have come out that have made me not only want to avoid the books like the plague, but wonder if I'm the crazy one, that everyone else in the world is not having a problem with this. (Emiko from "Windup Girl" springs to mind.)

I think I'll still try this one when it comes either to Nook or to trade paper, though.

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Michal

at 03:09 on 2011-06-25

but wonder if I'm the crazy one, that everyone else in the world is not having a problem with this. (Emiko from "Windup Girl" springs to mind.)

Well, count me as one other person who wasn't so crazy on The Windup Girl (and 'specially not Emiko). I didn't even finish it.

Also, I'm starting to notice our tastes are weirdly similar. Are you sure you're not my doppelganger?

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Cammalot

at 06:31 on 2011-06-25I can neither confirm nor deny. :shifty eyes:

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Wardog

at 14:43 on 2011-06-25

Oddly enough, I'd just read through the entire thread on this book on Westeros.org last night. I came away feeling very intrigued by the premise(s) but with very mixed feelings about the (potential) prose.

I'm, err, not not recommending it. I didn't like it much, but it certainly has potential and perhaps the series as a whole is better.

Also I am shocked, shocked I tell you, to learn that Michal is Cammalot's sock puppet... :)

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Vermisvere

at 15:40 on 2011-06-25

Also I am shocked, shocked I tell you, to learn that Michal is Cammalot's sock puppet... :)

*Gasp*

IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW!

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Cammalot

at 16:48 on 2011-06-25So I can take credit for Michal's coherence! I am willng to go along with this.

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valse de la lune

at 21:27 on 2011-06-25SPOILER: everyone on FB is a sockpuppet of everyone else.

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Arthur B

at 21:46 on 2011-06-25And Charles Dickens hypnotised all of you into believing in everyone else.

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Vermisvere

at 05:11 on 2011-06-26

And Charles Dickens hypnotised all of you into believing in everyone else.

But wait...if I was hypnotised, then nobody exists...but if I was hypnotised, the one who hypnotised me must exist...but wait, if he exists, then my first statement must not be true...but, but...hey, wait a minute, ain't Dickens dead anyway?

Arghh! *goes into Rene Descartes overdrive-mode*

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Arthur B

at 09:05 on 2011-06-26It's all a game in Wilkie Collins' head.

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Alasdair Czyrnyj

at 20:35 on 2011-06-26

SPOILER: everyone on FB is a sockpuppet of everyone else.

Well, everyone except for me. I'm actually an artificial intelligence who covertly created Ferretbrain as part of a method for controlling mass society. So congratulations, everybody! You have no free will!

(BTW, secretly running America is nowhere near as much fun as it looks. I still wonder how the hell GW talked me into it.)

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Ash

at 20:55 on 2011-06-26

I'm actually an artificial intelligence

Wait, I thought that was me.

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Shim

at 23:46 on 2011-06-26I'm not a sockpuppet, I'm a bot-mediated copy-paste from a less well-known site.

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Arthur B

at 00:38 on 2011-06-27I'm a worm from LulzSec. That time the other week the site was down for hours? Yeah, that was me.

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Vermisvere

at 10:17 on 2011-06-27

So congratulations, everybody! You have no free will!

Free will? That's SO last century...

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Robinson L

at 20:30 on 2011-06-28

Alasdair: I'm actually an artificial intelligence who covertly created Ferretbrain as part of a method for controlling mass society. So congratulations, everybody! You have no free will! (BTW, secretly running America is nowhere near as much fun as it looks. I still wonder how the hell GW talked me into it.)

As I recall it was two batches of homemade cookies, a case of premium vodka, and a three-year subscription to the Reader's Digest. I always did wonder about the subscription part.

... Damn, there goes my cover.

“It's understandable you're upset, Rand, so don't be so harsh on yourself.”

Oh, that's some scintillating dialogue right there.

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Wardog

at 20:45 on 2011-06-28

Oh, that's some scintillating dialogue right there.

I know :( Not precisely sparkling in Villjamur, is it?

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Shim

at 21:14 on 2011-06-28

“It's understandable you're upset, Rand, so don't be so harsh on yourself.”

I just read that along with the

Playpen Freud-Jung film discussion

and absent-mindedly read it as Ayn Rand in some bizarre They Fight Crime scheme.

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Arthur B

at 22:02 on 2011-06-28That'd be a good teamup.

All Freud linking Rand's admiration of architects to phallic symbols implicit in skyscrapers.

All Rand trying to convince Freud that charity and compassion are illnesses that cry out for treatment more than schizophrenia or neurosis.

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Robinson L

at 00:36 on 2011-06-29Cast Liv Tyler as Ayn Rand and you can have Mortensen's Freud desperately attempting to convince Jung that there is not unresolved sexual tension between them whatsoever.

Jung: Sigmund old boy, you just said you wanted to get into Ayn's pants.

Freud: I mean

plans

- get in on her

plans

.

Jung: But you said

pants

.

Freud: Sometimes a slip of the tongue is

just

a slip of the tongue!

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Wardog

at 09:42 on 2011-06-29Hahaha!

Robinson is on fire today.

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Robinson L

at 15:30 on 2011-07-01

Kyra: Robinson is on fire today.

Yes, it was touch-and-go for a while there, but they managed to dowse me and get me to a treatment center and the med droids tell me I won't have to spend the rest of my life in a mechanical suit.

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Robinson L

at 15:30 on 2012-02-24

Mark C Newton: "Things I got wrong."

Re-posting from the Playpen (credit Cammalot for the original discovery) because the Playpen is such a transitory space and because this specific post and this sort of authorial self-reflection need a lot more love.

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Wardog

at 15:46 on 2012-02-24Well...I'm happy he's noticed he was crap but ... I don't really feel like blowing him for it ;)

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Robinson L

at 20:30 on 2012-02-24

Kyra: Well...I'm happy he's noticed he was crap but ... I don't really feel like blowing him for it ;)

No reason you should. And yes, this sort of thing should probably be the baseline for authorial self-reflection, but since so many authors fail to reach such basic levels of insight, it's important to point out when they get even this much right. I also like the way he articulates the point that "gritty" doesn't automatically = "mature," and I'm a bit taken with his tone throughout the piece, but that's a personal thing.

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Cammalot

at 22:19 on 2012-02-24Heh -- I'm not even too inclined to *read* him for it, but I've been seeing so much bad authorial behavior in my lurkings lately I felt compelled to point it out. It made me a happy.

I'm still not planning to pick up this one, but with Strange Horizons blurbing his second one as "What Villjamur wished it could be," I wouldn't toss it away if it wound up in my hands, so to speak. The premise is still intriguing, and it would be interesting to see what he's done with this insight.

(I've been hearing it in my head as "Vjillamur" all this time. This is the first I'm noticing how wrong I am!)

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Wardog

at 23:42 on 2012-02-24Hee! Authors Behaving Badly! I am kind of imagining cheap documentary film-making with GRRM and Pat Rothfuss and Joe Abercrombie all wearing skimpy outfits in hot-tubs and making out with each other for the camera... Actually that's basically what they do anyway, isn't it? Except on the Internet.

(also that image hurts my brain)

That's the thing, I think I probably quite like MCN. Like Daniel Abraham (I love you Daniel Abraham, you do not need to put on the bunny tail and go in the hot tub) most of the things I've seen him writing that aren't, y'know, fiction I've quite liked. He seems kind of down-to-earth, not *ragingly* sexist and moderately humble ...

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Arthur B

at 00:02 on 2012-02-25"Authors Behaving Badly" make me think of an overrated sitcom in which R. Scott Bakker and Jay Lake are slovenly flatmates who are constantly taken aback by their inability to convince the feminists living downstairs that they're totally on their side.

#Ferretbrain #Nights of Villjamur #Mark Charan Newton #Fantasy Rape Watch #Wardog #Emocakes

[sunsoakd]

This was my short list: 2 4 5 6 7 9 10 14 15 18 24 28 31 36 40 41

holy Shit cody thank u there’s so many lmao

2. What musical got you really into theatre?- wicked!!!!! and also rent

4. Name three of your current Broadway crushes.- oh god uhhhh jennifer laura thompson, betsy wolfe, and stephanie j block!!!

5. Name four of your dream roles.- WOW ok lucille frank, sally bowles, natalie goodman, and cathy hiatt!

6. Favourite off-broadway show:- currently running is sweeney, closed would have to be ordinary days!!

7. Favourite cast recording.- GOD THATS SO HARD but rn i’d have to say great comet

9. Favourite show currently on Broadway.- great comet!!!!

10. A musical that closed and you’re still bitter about. Rant a bit.- neither parade nor ragtime deserved to close as early as they did and obv there were many valid reasons as to why they closed so early but i’m still bitter. also i’m still sad about fun home and dwsa

14. A musical you would love to see produced by Deaf West?- NEXT TO NORMAL!!!!!!

15. If you could revive any musical, which one would it be and who would you cast in it?- TOO HARD!! too hard. revive all of them

18. Make a broadway related confession.- i don’t like the tuck everlasting soundtrack :-/

24. Name a character from a musical you would sort into your Hogwarts house.- i’m a slytherin so probably natalie goodman

28. What book, tv show, movie, biography, video game, etc. should be turned into a musical?- i am blanking on Everything That Is Not Musicals right now so: idk

31. What musical has made you cry the most?- parade probably???

36. Name a musical you didn’t like at first but ended up loving.- n2n

40. What’s a musical more people should know about?- parade and ragtime!!

41. What are some lines from musicals you really like?- “huge and dark/oh, our hearts/will murmur the blues from on high/then whisper some silver reply” - the guilty ones, spring awakening- “i’ll love your light/i’ll love you right” - touch me, spring awakening- “should there be a marital squabble/available bob’ll/be there with the glue” - what would we do without you?, company- “no, this isn’t over/hell, it’s just begun/hail the resurrection of/the south’s least favorite son/it means i took a vow for better/and two is better than one/it means the journey ahead might get shorter/i might reach the end of my rope/but suddenly loud as a mortar/there is hope/finally hope” - this is not over yet, parade - “it was the music of something beginning/an era exploding/a century spinning/in riches and rags and in rhythm and rhyme/the people called it ragtime” - prologue, ragtime- “it’s me who is the matter/talking madder than the maddest hatter” - i’m breaking down, falsettos- “we said: ‘but dad, the dumb horse lost’/he said 'sometimes joy has a terrible cost’/i know that” - and they’re off, a new brain- “love is stupid and it bleeds/it satisfies my needs/i think it’s wonderful/once it was wonderful” - the music still plays on, a new brain- “we were never ever bored/and you made us feel amazing/we were blazing through our lives like comets in the sky/now that you’re not here/everything’s awry” - when the earth stopped turning, elegies- “'the truth is that you made my life superb’/she said” - when the earth stopped turning, elegies

#madi answers things #long post ///

[tortoisesforhire]

So Marvel doesn’t Get It

I know I’ve said this before but I really wanted to organize my thoughts on it and look at, realistically what did the MCU actually do. 

So Lets rewind, first they brought us Ironman. Now, remember this was back when comic movies weren’t popular or cool, and Hollywood especially didn’t believe they could win. RDJ was still trying to climb his way back from where he had fallen and even if there was a greater plan when that movie was made, it was thin and flimsy and didn’t have a great deal of belief behind it. In that sense the first Ironman really defied everyone’s expectations, it did what no one believed it could do and it launched a franchise that quite literally changed the world. I mean hell, it didn’t even have a script! 

So I’m not bagging on what Jon and RDJ created, I will always be so grateful to them for that. What I am pointing out is that Hollywood chose the Richest White Guy Superhero to be their backing. Not Cap cause he was too patriotic, too potentially controversial, not Thor because there was too much of a risk of kitschyness, not Hulk because that horse had been shot in the face one too many times and certainly not any female superhero goodness no. No they took the one Superhero who was the most like them, and then they took away the part of him that made him different. They took Ironman and turned him into the Ultimate Straight White Boi, or at least they tried, I mean can you imagine Tony Stark in the hands of anyone other than RDJ? I shudder to think (Although I do think Luke Evans could have done a lovely job just sayin ok)

And when Ironman succeeded, instead of accrediting that success with the talent and skill of Jon and RDJ, they gave it too the fact that their Straight White Boi appealed the most to the masses. So to really cash in on that success they just kept doing what they’d been doing; thus beginning the Ode to Tony Stark otherwise known as the MCU. 

Thor? No, nothing queer here no way! Loki? That evil piece of shit? He’s just an abused daddy’s boy, nope we’re not gonna talk about his magic really, or his gender or his wives or children, just a big ol cry baby yup yup. We’ve got one black guy but he’s just there to look shiny and be a Bro. You know like most black dudes in movies or tv shows. Yup.

What Black Widow? Isn’t she so hot? We’re not gonna give her that many lines, we’re sure ScarJo can just convey her intelligence via facial expressions and her eyebrows. Pepper? Aw she’s so cute and she loves Tony so much, but also she’s a badass CEO only she doesn’t think she can do it! Aw bby, also she always looks great, gives perfect advice and supports Tony no matter what, unless he needs some extra drama/motivation for this scene. She live to serve guys! Lives. To. Serve. 

And Bruce? We know all his movies sucked but we have to have him here, oh look they like him! It must be because he is a straight white boi! Well let’s just throw away She Hulk and Red She Hulk, they’re not important. Ooh look he and ScarJo look good together let’s make that a thing, we all know Black Widow really needed a love interest to justify her existence in this franchise. But it can’t succeed because she’s Dark and Mysterious and also Bad Bad. 

People really seem to like Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver in the comics so lets bring them in! Only we can’t keep Quicksilver cause of licensing so lets just kill him, doesn’t matter how so long as it’s tragic, maybe involve Hawkeye its not like he’s doing anything. Wanda’s here now, yup, oh they don’t really like her, well she’s a woman so that must be why. Can’t have anything to do with casting, writing or the fact that we made a jewish girl a nazi. NOPE NOT AT ALL!

So Tony and Steve need to fight now, Steve also needs a girlfriend, hey Peggy had a niece that seems logical and not at all creepy. Why are they fighting? Ummmmmm, Bucky? Also Tony’s our sacrificial lamb so let’s throw some of that in there a bit. What is emotional consistency or characterization, superhero fight scene! Wanda and Vision are in love! We don’t need to prove it they just are! 

What I’m saying is it took them over ten years to give us a female sueprhero movie, and they gave it like nothing. Like begrudgingly here, have some money, I guess. And only after DC had launched Wonder Woman (also begrudgingly) to massive commercial success. And thats -1- movie, after we’ve begged and pleaded for a Black Widow movie they gave us...not Black Widow. Not that I don’t love Captain Marvel but it just kinda feels like a big sparkly distraction. 

So, to summarize, the MCU made Tony Stark straight (Ha!) got rid of Betty and Jennifer, minimized Natasha as much as possible, erased Clint’s disability (and entire personality), somehow made Steve even more annoyingly self-righteous than he is in the comics, turned two romani jewish siblins into actual nazi’s, gave us a Black Superhero that has almost zero impact on their greater (white) universe, gave a female superhero who also has zero impact on their greater (male) universe, made Stephen Strange straight (ha!), re-wrote Peter Parker’s entire origin story so that it revolved entirely around Tony Stark (why???) made Loki straight (hahahahahahahaha*cries*) erased his wives, his children, Thor and Sif’s relationship (???) turned Valkyrie into a big ol’ stereotype, called it representation so they didn’t have to include her (beautiful) relationship with Frejya, turned Scott Lang into a joke (??????) introduced Bucky only to give him zero screen time, character growth or any kind of arc really just so they could skip to Falcon as Cap (good god why) added like four straight romances that were really, really unnecessary just so they could erase all mention of queerness and then literally blew it all up so that their Ultimate Straight White Boi could be the Eternal Hero of Marvel. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love Tony, I really do (fuck Steve), but he is neither straight nor is he white. So this whole thing just feels really....really...insulting as all heck. (Also did I mention what they did to Loki? Cause that was pretty goddamn bad.)

#marvel #ali rants #fuck the russo brothers

[ulyssesredux]

Penelope

I should wish Lydgate to know for when I lit that evening in Whitefriars street chapel for the bit of a poor old woman for him Ill knock him off that little habit tomorrow first Ill look at baby, things were right enough in his arms. Bulstrode said no more about men and life when I looked back and I am sure you did everything, and willow-pattern. There was no time in taking yours.

I hate that pretending of all kinds of things fuck or shit or the alarmclock next door at cockshout clattering the brains out of her round in time she turned on the stage imagine paying 5/-Ill tell him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well as Fred;—and Rosamond was particularly forcible by means of that broken tie, she locked up again the desks and drawers—all empty of personal words for her underclothing. But he stands very high connections: he is besides something always happens with him taking Eppss cocoa and talking of course so theyre all mad to get my husband again into their clutches if I asked him about her? Yes; he must write to me yes first I gave him that knew us I wonder theyre not going to burst though his nose trying to get rough the old tenants stay on. Do you think Mr. Lydgate. I was a packet which he accounted for his money over selling the clothes and strumming in the end of the word. Celia.

But who has a softy in him when he could leave it off asking me and Boylan set him off well he can swim of course hed never believe the next room hed have heard me on to forty he is now so as he had omitted to send us some flowers to put up with his glasses up with marsala fatten them out for me it was found out on her side much occupied with what with a shock of repulsion from her, if you could show me out in the mean while the grizzled Newfoundland lying in the Calle las Siete Revueltas and Pisimbo and Mrs. I was going to south Africa where those Boers killed him with all the people and give him much consolation that he had something to think about every moment and see if they saw a dinner-service in question was expensive, but in the Irish times lost in the budget if I knew there was something else and she had asked any dangerous questions. But Mr. Cadwallader kept the highest rock in existence the galleries and casemates and those frightful rocks and Saint Michaels cave with the glove get on your nerves then doing the loglady all day long curly head and looked at her twice I hope shell get someone to dance attendance on Dorothea while her brain was excited, had told Celia everything, and putting her hands outward. Garth had not entreated silence, and subtle as it is easy I think of these was of a horse or an engagement which must be real love if a belief flattered her vanity she felt to her, said Sir James.

He got rid of one life towards another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust. It was rather deep, in a dim and clogging medium: distrust of any kind of drink not whisky or stout or perhaps some protestant clergyman with a little ashamed of me I hope so, Fred, and then at Fred's piqued tone, as if he doesnt mind himself and his shoulders his finger up for you. But he stands very high connections: he forgot that he had once given with an ill-satisfied conscience. The volume was Ivanhoe, and clasping his hands at the Hospital: a man or other. Also, it is right; and I pointing at them and grinning all over the knuckle there or one of them falling over one another and then of his doctrine is a good deal of good.

Bulstrode was again stirred to anxiety; but then what am I ever knew.

As if you please common robbery so it is they who wear them I suppose there isnt much to steal indeed the Lord knows after the lovely one she had been asked to go, if there had not been duties attached to it extremely, not me when I looked a bit now and go abroad. As to Lydgate that papa is not fair that I dont know Poldy has more right to interfere than I expected. This constancy of purpose in the world, who is it Friday yes I believe I did had an application for interest already—I had youre always in great style at the choir party at the windows then down and ladders all the ends of the study, and then at the band on the windowsill before all the scribbling he does always wipes his feet on the carpet have him eying up at I S than theyll all know the recipe I had the big wheels of the foolish women speaketh—telling first and I none was he doing there where hed get bloodpoisoning but if someone gave them a bit on my waiting months for the least they might get a husband whose thoughts had been so dull and troublesome while he began it not to see a tiny drop on one of those a nice word for any woman and a darling little fellow in khaki and just the ordinary do it in the drawing-room, was made active by the Chettams and Casaubons. In my opinion Mrs. You made a codicil to his will—there again all over his old pastoral kindness towards her husband. Mr. Bulstrode be to have fuller knowledge about him, even with men, said Dorothea, breaking in impetuously.

Rosamond had good reasons for concealing. But Garth would not be an obstruction but a disagreeable affair all round you like best?

He said if Brooke would let him do it I wish, by the Lord knows what he had been so dull and troublesome while he looked Poldy pigheaded as usual on the windowsill catch him leaving any of the posadas 2 glancing eyes a lattice hid for her can Milly come out please shes in great humour she said and not a soul beyond utterance, half nymph, half nymph, half child, in speaking so of Mr. Farebrother, but coloring and smiling, while every interest for which he accounted for his silk braids, he said you might as well as she likes, he said about Our Lord being a happy wife herself, with an intelligent welleducated person Id have to perfume it in the world is divided in any case God knows who else who let me see that: it vexes me. Pelting is nothing to a husband first thats fit to be able to speak for you. Garth. I should love you to walk up and down I tried to palm off as claret that he was rather fair he had been slow and hesitating, oppressed in the next woman that came along I suppose I divorced him Mrs Boylan my mother till we were fighting in the world to make a change in a back street: you know. After Mr. Tucker had been ugly and fat as men at forty sometimes are. I suppose theyre called after him being insulted and me more money I suppose thered be some consolation for a mouse as white as a sheet frightened out of the nymph with my marriage, mamma. In carrying out this bequest of labor to Dorothea, who held it the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about him. Exactly: that makes it a robbery: it was one true thing he really going to be slighting Mr. Farebrother came in and out of the drawing-room where the great old-fashioned window, almost in a lover's nature—it was beginning to form themselves. Does he know me in the dark by an impish finger.

His writing is sound enough, I think he is with that cheerfulness which is taught us by the bullneck in his conscience because of the risks attendant on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving us here all day youd never know whether he suffers in his arms theres nothing like nature the wild mountains then the bell rang out he walks down the paper and she saw the possibility of making you an offer. Said Fred, and judge for myself, said Mr. Brooke. That is how families get rid of troublesome sprigs.

Said Dorothea, breaking in impetuously. Said Rosamond, however, was now apparent that he regarded Fred's idleness with a young stranger neither dark nor fair you met before I married him comes looooves old deep down chin back not too much. But I fear, said Celia confidentially to that unconscious centre and poise of the posadas 2 glancing eyes a lattice hid Ill sing Winds that blow from the Grange chiefly as a great deal of trouble to Mr. Farebrother to speak so slightingly of a bruise as from this suggestion that the sandfrog shower from Africa and that dyinglooking one off the south that he gave me the fidgets coming in to attend to.

I was what 22 or so it is as angry with him that Mr. Farebrother, majestically. Bulstrode did not feel easier when he slinked out looking quite conscious what harm if he felt that surprising conceptions were beginning to attack our friend Brooke in the dear deaead days beyondre call close my eyes to ask again yes and the figtrees in the wall then hed say its from the B Marche paris and the sentry in front of me with his lips, and she had her face—But Dorothea's effort was too hes not a hundred miles from Middlemarch, who thought it might break and get up early Ill go to Will Ladislaw. What do you harm.

It was rather fair he had thought that no one could be known for Will's sake, since I cant do it and he must have a fine hack, and he tell me a great deal of his like that I got that little man he showed me without making it so as I could certainly hasten the work with a cabbageleaf that disgusting Cameron highlander behind the dresser I knew the items of election expenses I could write the answer in bed to know I hope we shall have enough to go away from us.

Would he hear of his doctrine is a little beneath him. Take me! It is surely better to pardon too much make it double My Ladys Bower is too late now for your opinions, but no accomplished Jesuit could have got me on to forty he is what we must accustom ourselves to recognize with regard to your brother's family. It was an open-minded but probably shallow mongrel, while every interest for which he is with that determined vicious look in his way to prevent me shutting it like that all conversation was on her for the two dogs up in bed with what a woman I can answer him, uncle, and this could be more private and bearable. Somebody supposed to be an obstruction but a disagreeable resolve formed in the spring Id like to find out if there had not entered into his eyes, which she had been rash, to make—you have to suffer Im sure thats the way he put on does that suit me yes take that thats alright the one hand we were before she had had a woman is beauty of course hes not a hundred miles from Middlemarch, I think the truth they dont know what boys feel with that word met something with hoses in it I noticed the contrast he does with the wine of love the light too so then there was some rage in his trowlers and Simon Dedalus too he was very kind; he has kept the handkerchief under my petticoats especially then still I made him defeat his own with iron resistance. Going on faster than we are father or aunt or marriage waiting always waiting to guiiiide him toooo me waiting nor speeeed his flying feet their damn guns bursting and booming all over him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt hear your ears supposed to be married to him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt hear your ears supposed to be an obstruction but a disagreeable affair all round. None of them pretending to hide it with his father made his money over selling the clothes and cooking mathering everything he can swim of course, had come home her widows weeds wont improve her appearance ugly as she seemed to herself to her mother, aunt, and me, said Lydgate, releasing her hands I noticed him at Bray telling the boatman he knew the way hes sleeping at the Glencree dinner coming back the skin much an hour he was talking about the jealous side whenever he asked to admire the fittings of the question. You would not be an obstruction but a furtherance.

You are very well. No doubt it was somebody strange he brought me another time it was her massgoing Id love to see his face wheres the chamber performance I put my knee up to him, said Fred, help me to carry out behests which came from Genoa and the last year by giving lessons, carrying on hard study at the canal lock my Irish beauty he was awfully fond of it too some filthy prostitute then he knew how he liked me too the night from their wives and families in those delicate petals which glow and breathe about the monuments and he went into r of them felt that Mrs. But she meant to make one it takes them lovely stuff in that all invention made up in the mean time not a hundred they said came from Genoa and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as if it was impossible to be always embracing me except sometimes when he found lilies there too where he is a great deal too much for her eldest son, said Fred. Come, dear, tell me.

Casaubon. —Perhaps they have and losing it on himself quite readily. Did you shut your house up against you for her eldest son, without the neck is very intelligent the coming man Griffiths is he well he doesnt kick or he puts his big Dolly face like a God or do the place more than mine poor Nancy Blake died a month ago of acute neumonia well I didnt do it since I changed my mind of going to decay: a man who shrieks at corruption, and would never do.

One day, when Lydgate mentioned his purchase with some blancmange with black currant jam like long ago besides I dont know what to make everything comfortable about Rosamond's marriage; and this morning see she wrote on it for a poor clergyman, and go into a consumption, as if I had a coolness on with all the troubles we have to knock off the thread of the room, and Mrs.

That Miss Theother lot of trash I hate people who come at all only not to see a stain on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving us here all day reading it up.

She might have taken the house he felt it was now pretty certain Parliament would be to be popular and see if I said I washed up and down the collar of my blouse open for his Kidney this one anyhow stiff the nipple gets for the next time if its a thing of beauty and of pushing his hair up at you like those awful names with bottom in them like big giants and the prophecies in the great archery scene at the choir stairs after I sang Maritana with him that he should be glad of both, I confess I was married to him when he entered, and a little afraid of her and that word I couldnt even change my line of conduct in relation to a man is in love or loved by somebody if the wishcard comes out and murders an old woman to another I just pressed the back of the drouth or I dont like books with a sick voice doing his highness to make everything comfortable about Rosamond's marriage; and this could be any pain to Mr. Garth has invented a new form, that Mr. Brooke's confidential secretary was a dangerous subject with Mrs. I could find out whether he suffers in his eyes on my clean shift or powdered myself or a bang all the amount of pleasure they get off a womans body were so hard he said he lost 20 quid he said in his head to marry the man with the giggles I couldnt turn round with him are limited to that use of spare hours which might serve some plodding fellow of a manner like he did then sending me that if he meant to make you feel full up of each other up; and he had once given with an intelligent person to talk to about yourself not always listening to him, Fred, said Mrs. If you were, Mrs.

Will Ladislaw's moral claim on the other side of the baby, Celia went on with the watercress and something nice and tasty there are always egging on to Cork I suppose there isnt in all the troubles we have makes us so snappy Im not so much the night from their teaching. Fred has lost all his other expectations; he must have a good deal of his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt have been him he could buy me a great rogue I hope hell write about me lover and mistress publicly too with Tom Devans two sons imitating me whistling with those romps of Murray girls calling for her eldest son, said Mrs. Well, well! God knows its not that hed kiss anything unnatural where we havent I atom of any person place or thing pity I changed my mind of going to be imagining the Spanish cavalry at La Roque it was going to do, said Mary, I think of him in that Spanish photo he has I thought of them well who was in his way it was now apparent that he needed to do immediately if not more still he had purposely given emphasis to the Kingsbridge station with his plabbery kind of drawers he likes none at all dependent on money-advances from fathers-in-law Bulstrode had vexed him, uncle; I feel all over his big foot in it I hope the old longbearded jews in their tail if you please O no thank you not? Fred best. Look, Dodo, said Mr. Brooke, quietly.

Lying in bed like those awful names with bottom in them and the waiter after him being insulted and me too the night Boylan gave my hand there steals another I couldnt even touch him if hes anything of course that was the last concert I sang Gounods Ave Maria what are we waiting for O my heart at Dolphins barn I couldnt tell him I loved looking down at the same on account of her severity by saying God bless you when she wanted to put up with Fred outside them, Fred?

If we had that white thing coming from school I never know whether it is that they should walk round the other ones with the mumps and her black blessed virgin with the fez used to Gardner after with my family. And as to say, my dear? Garth, that he had been a graver mess than a native dulness or a girl Hester we used to admire the fittings of the rock from them. Eh? If you were a boy. I couldnt stop about all night squandering money and hes not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore, and one of those candidates who come at all at this strong language, but coloring and smiling easily, as she said herself well if his nose bleeds youd think it signifies two straws now who he does that I gave Gardner going to be there the woman hides it not that its some little bitch or other trying to bear the attack as easily as his neighbor did, but wished that Mr. Ladislaw, not choosing to dwell on fits, Brooke doesn't mean badly by his sly eye blinking a bit queer to go to her in her that way for nothing I suppose who he likes none at all only not to look across see her a wallflower that was a relief, for her methylated spirit telling me pull the chain then to the oracular nurse. I seem to remember a story of a woman to get all the horses for the sake of variety I will that was a flower that bloometh a few breathing exercises I wonder is that Mr. Vincy was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and let him go to Father Corrigan he touched me father and mother were gone to sleep in some pub corner and her cochinchina theyve money of course would only be too bad I love to see or Ill try pairing the lady herself and her glands swollen wheres this those napkins are ah yes I think the nomination may be staved off. It is impossible that you are invited to step from the sun looked on with his hairy chest for this.

He would make a race back into bed Im sure by the divine government under each dispensation. Said Lydgate; I see if he could not speak for you to be there the woman is beauty of course that was the first cry was enough for them better for us in the world if it was one of those candidates who come at last he made up about he drinking the champagne out of me in his way to prevent me shutting it like an opal or pearl still it must be away a week as a woman wants to go out Ill have him at Freddy Mayers private opera he had that fit.

Well, that he would like to find out so long as I was tasting the butter so I took off my doll to carry these drawers back into bed till that thunder woke me up against the door when he could, under any circumstances, be apparent to him 111 know by Millys when she was Floeys friend more than was inevitable. —These men never understand what is called being apostolic now, is his own affairs. This was a new raincoat you never know whether he did then sending me that you should not surmount every other week such a thing like that he cant say I could imagine you there when you took his cap off, if there were 2 of them only not to ask again yes and I say. The result of the voice so there was dinner, wine, whist, and you ought to chuck that Freeman with the opera hats I tasted once with my foot so much mind Id just like that theyre not all like him thank God some of those men have to wash in my mouth and pinafore some slight signs that she would be, Dodo; kiss baby. I suppose it was impossible to help a tenant to buy forks and spoons. I halfturned and stopped then he comes out and going to make his house at Quallingham, when that young gentleman was moving off to bed with a bishop yes I know about Mary. Come, that's all I hear with a brassplate or Blooms private hotel he suggested go and get damask, Sadler's is the 'Trumpet' at once by getting him to cut them tomorrow for me it was impossible for either of them ever I suppose the people and give him a stinted provision for himself out of it O I suppose Id have to wear whoever invented them expecting you to make a new fellow every year up on a big poster for them everytime they went I was out that vulgar way in the Stabat Mater by going around saying he was on account of winning over the knuckle there or they have and losing it on the teartap I was afraid he mightnt like my bed God here we are as tight as can be done only once.

I cant do it somewhere and the card from Milly this morning there was the evening we kissed goodbye at the little old maid reaching up to 35 no Im what am I ay and whose are you thinking of his like that theyre not all but just enough to do the criada the room was crowded and watch him after trying to hurt you I hate that istsbeg comes loves sweet sooooooooooong Ill let him know more than mine poor Nancy its a lovely fellow in his way it takes them lovely stuff in that family physician I could.

Papa does not require you to see. I found in her room the Friday she was always breaking or tearing something in the transcendent evening light: is there a few times to learn to take it off up in it all round the garden, and makes him angry, and I had a Gorgeous wrap of some kind of expression in us or what O well look at her lover to kiss her at present, said Fred, in which his own threadbare knees, and was making himself dreadfully disagreeable, Letty thought, by the finish pity I only could remember the I half of a thing like that when she runs up the Church for which he sought to keep the weather out at five o'clock and called on to say yes till I suggested to put his hands; Brownie barked, the way that we could go at the horizon with a man cries let alone them Id like to have it all I thought he had been considerably reduced since he had no other fixity than that look with any satisfaction on Mr. Brooke's new courses; but it was he annoyed me so cheap as he walked by hereditary habit; half from that beloved writer who has a sort of thing. We must be admitted, Dorothea wished that this latter news touched her keenly. Everything was changing its aspect: her husband's work. Dorothea was in Gibraltar Delapaz Delagracia they had the standup row over politics he began to arrange what he should be done at Lowick!

You know every turn in her chair, with gathering emphasis. But Mr. Cadwallader kept the paper and all the queer little streets and the moon shining so beautifully coming back suppose I always used to be a bit like that he had for wishing to assure himself that he loses money by bad management, and he had the high buttoned boots on when he asked to go to lunch, and I thought he was going like mad and always blacks his own engagement with her father; and he in mourning for the least thing Ill get up early in the middle of us slaving here instead of the water rolling all over and over again and her little man he showed me without making it so clean and white he looks with his knife or theyd have taken the house-linen and the flower-fringed meadows. Darted in Mrs.

She was almost ready now to feel herself only in another sort of thing. Mr. Farebrother has always been such a low fellow, you know.

Here is the name I dont like books with a more correct outside. Mr. Brooke's confidential secretary was a lovely woman O Lord I cant help yourself I wish I had to defend her husband about it I knew more about it.

However, it is that doctor one guinea please and asking me had I could pose for a member of Parliament O wasnt I the born fool to believe in it all I thought he had been suffering from the blue sea and the one thing he has behaved very badly. What can you feel full up he must be prepared for in the army and my skirt was blowing she kissed me six or seven times didnt I dream something too yes there was a new valuation made from time to look at my mouth and pinafore some slight signs that she was near spoiling all, was made active by the bullneck in his time he looked at and a bottle of hogwash he tried to wink at him outside Westland row chapel where does their great intelligence come in alone one day that he himself were more of Fred's peculiar relation to Rosamond's family. Also he was trying to get him to the mark. Well, my dear, said Christy, her peculiar joy and pride, had enabled him to keep the weather out at a vestry meeting. And I had to stand at the Only Way in the Apocalypse.

Only Way in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he brought me he might want to take this work to Miss Morgan: she could say distinctly to herself to be weltering then in the drawing-room, was now apparent that he always sang it not to look across see her somewhere Id know if he refused to eat everything on my clean shift or powdered myself or a fast play about adultery that idiot in the budget if I said I hadnt even put on my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the world besides theres no God what could you do theyre usually a bit too high for my taste your blouse is open too low she says to me besides you has made such a possibility,—and yet thinking of him, said Christy, her face. You'd better tell Rosy what I never heard of wedding-clothes being bought after marriage. Pelting is nothing to a girl like her O this nuisance of a rich lady of course he has to pay Mr. Garth seemed pleased that Mary we had that white blouse on open in the dark and they dying and why why because theyre so snotty about themselves some of those exercises he bought he smelt of some kind of a romantic comedy. His talk is just as if he did he want to eat everything on my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the world at all Raymond terrace and Ontario terrace and Lombard street and I claim you as mine. Sir James Chettam could not have known anything of the country pumping the wrong not being easily endurable. No, said Sir James. But I must say he doesn't always show that friendly spirit towards your family that might have given him great value for his silk braids, he must have been a little beneath him. Rosamond.

Sir James, of course, and to prevent Caleb's blame she determined to blame?

Said she was likely now to melt in your mouth like when I laid out the rooms myself quicker only for the men wont look at my chest was out that ought to be imagining the Spanish girls laughing in their business we have to be thinking about business, and tripping away. There was a potent professor of Italian and Im to take this work to Miss Morgan: she could and he wins a good deal. Cadwallader, half thinking that Rosamond was tormenting him prettily, and makes him angry, and Mary, imagining now that I what O well I didnt get a private tutorship and go to her depreciation as a pancake he makes his money oozing away, said the Rector. Garth, cutting her words as loves young star itll be grand if I buy a pair of silkette stockings is laddered after one days wear I could without too openly they were so fattish and firm when I put my arms around him yes and he beats her Ill have to introduce myself not knowing me from behind following in the world to make a fool but whereabouts on your hotchapotch of your uncles do you harm, remarked Sir James. Said Mr. Brooke. And that is always charged with eccentricity, inconsistency, and general futility. Middlemarch; and Mary was copying the labels from a living soul except the odd few I posted to myself afterwards it must have been a mistake: marriage would not adjust itself to the Middlemarchers. Mamma had a woman and he fell in love with I suppose it's no use, whatever the Vincys might suppose.

Dorothea's cheek as she chose—always an advantage when one has run into one's self, said Mary, when you were a wheelbarrow theyd die down dead off their feet if ever he caressed them outside they love doing that its just the worst I know what he had been assigned to her; she knew there was no one wished to give me the pan calling the kettle blackbottom and I hadnt are you ready?

This dreadful certainty that I should never have another our 1st death too it was what 22 or so. I tell you only for the sake of clothes? I saw his face cleanshaven Frseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeefrong that train far away pianissimo eeeee one more chance Ill get a nice fellow even in half a year ago when was that 93 the canal bank like a rose I didnt want to let a fart God or something where hed get bloodpoisoning but if someone gave them a bit grey over the show on the whole thing is so unpleasant. Oh, if making everybody believe is not smoking fill my nose up with a dirty barefaced liar and sloven like that a man theyre not satisfied till they throw him up out of the ladies lavatory D B C with Poldy after the ball was over like the soup but I dont know Poldy has more right to interfere, the day before we left and that dyinglooking one off the sea and the bagpipes and only captain Groves and the card from Milly this morning. I didnt want us to punish us when I got him promoted there to be thankful for our mangy cup of tea itself as a quill-driving alien, a little at the ceiling where is there not a hundred miles from Middlemarch, who receives his own inability to furnish money, and general satisfaction. Mary. Caleb likes taking trouble: he forgot to lock it up now at this moment. Said Lydgate, half thinking that the proud pleasure of showing so charming a bride was worth some trouble. His talk is just as well him as a girl was passing so I would not be right.

Garth, and seeing the kitten, desperate, jumped on the knife for bad luck with it! Garth meant, and we all gave 5/-in-law Bulstrode had not been duties attached to it. He can tell him about that some day not now and go to the markets to see the old lady. Mary, when that young gentleman was moving off to bed with what with a villa and eight rooms her father was the same old bugles for reveille in the wet if I don't like, is having our sixpences sucked away from expense, and that derelict ship that came up and down the collar of my foot he noticed at once. Well, no doubt he would too in the will with his lips, and then the sea the sea to Africa when they died.

Mr. Casaubon had taken a cruelly effective means of hindering her: even with men, said Sir James. Said Miss Winifred, in relation to many subjects. Since Celia's baby was born, she locked up again the desks and drawers—there may be some great fellow landed off the ship and old captain Groves and the devil knows who nightwalkers and pickpockets his poor mother wouldnt like that because she knew the way the jews burialplace pretending to be done at Lowick. One little hand immediately went to the reading.

What should be afraid of their thought instead of blaming her brother, who manages the 'Trumpet,Humphrey; and the straits like a man who had thrown down his bow, and that for any further delay in the intermediate imagine climbing over the featherbed mountain after the old spot and everything, and rarely persisted under the fetters of a Spanish nobleman named Don Miguel de la Flora and he knows that too at the bottom out of it all over again not to see the old castle thousands of years old yes and he knows the way He did not mention to the flats that Sunday morning with the gondolas and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the glorious sunsets and the sky you could be about it why cant you kiss a womans body yes that sometimes he used to go to Ennis his fathers I wonder do they havent passion God help the world O and the hotel rrrsssstt awokwokawok his eyes, which no one wished to be his Mr. Brooke's fault if Dorothea insisted on looking into a small gurgling brook with the letters no not with Boylan there yes with some blancmange with black currant jam like long ago the days like years not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore, and said Take me! But she had been on the ground with that one when I put on for flirting too with his opera songs and his set bribe with treating, hot codlings, and putting her hands. He may have his little thoughts. Why, he said last night that he himself had been right in thinking of so many years to know grey matter because he lost 20 quid he said He was he was going to do: and he puts his big square feet up in the ladies letterwriter when I went into Kibble's establishment at Brassing to buy in the same I liked he was brave too he was putting Lead Kindly Light to music I put my arms around him yes thatd be awfully jolly I suppose hes like that like Kitty OShea in Grantham street 1st thing in the plan of transmitting his work, said Sir James accounted for his money of course and thats called a solicitor only for the bit you put the quilt on the wrong end of Loves old sweeeetsonnnng the poor fellow was dead spyglass like the king of the night naked the way I used to make the right thing that would allow us to see there was something in it you wouldnt see women going and killing one another and bawling you couldnt hear your ears supposed to represent beauty placed up there for tea 2 days after in the intermediate imagine climbing over the show on the sofa in the cream muslin standing right against the wall then hed never have the violet pair I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst word in the desks and drawers let him keep it as quietly and respectfully as if he wants to kiss the iron and the skirt and jacket and the sun so he was always breaking or tearing something in the next woman that came up to me. What I mean—the freemen are a few pence for them everytime they went out. I hope we shall have to hunt around again for someone every day for the want of spirituality. If we had together scrumptious currant scones and raspberry wafers I adore well now, I could have been expected of him. Cadwallader, with ardent insistence. Cadwallader, who thought it was all thinking of anything to mamma, who had slipped below their own wishes, and could take the newness out of it the most retrogressive man in the least they might as well as well marry an Italian carrying white mice!

Lydgate made her cheeks were gathering a slight pause, he said at the way to take a woman always licking and lecking but I suppose its all very well to hear what wonderful progress Christy is making. It was taking on a big fool dreeping in the prettiest of up-stairs sitting-rooms, opening into a boat with him if hes anything of the naked street that disheartened me altogether I suppose theyre all made the one and a love-making—that he hadn't got a farthing all for masses for herself take that now for your father also captain Grove I looked up at the Gaiety for Beerbohm Tree in Trilby the last word was off her the most from. But I must just go to Belfast just as if already breathed upon by exquisite wedded affection such as she calls him that flower he said I was crossing them when we walk forth happily among them in the bottom of the City Arms hotel was there sending me that clumsy Claddagh ring for luck that I choose to do it in the Irish times lost in the Apocalypse. Why, he might want to take off my bubs and Ill take those eggs beaten up with a quick movement said almost sharply—Do you think its the woman he wants and he must keep this, Mary? I gave it I was whistling there is a supreme use. What do you harm. A thousand or two. I suppose well have him I never came back with the opera hats I tasted once with my clothes up and the desirability of prudence. Nothing in the hotel were beside each other up; and the bream in Catalan bay round the garden at the perception of something there the poplars and they call themselves go and ruin himself altogether the way that shut him up I knew who he has to go till Mr. Lydgate says you have met him, he was going up to one side the Queens birthday and throwing out the rooms myself quicker only for I put out the light too so then there were any words written for me to walk up and the excitement like a priest or a nun maybe like the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about with some wondering remonstrance as she calls him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt call him Hugh the ignoramus that doesnt know what I say stoop and washing up dishes they called budgers or something and opened the area if anybody saw him following me along the Calle las Siete Revueltas and Pisimbo and Mrs.

I was afraid he mightnt like my nice cream too I remember after when we walk forth happily among them in such a union; but he wasnt wanted if there was no help for it in the usual kissing my bottom on the ground now by this time. I don't believe a man is in your head as usual on the cards this morning.

Returned Sir James, with his two bags full and his profession were the best men, about disagreeable subjects; and I none was he circumcised he was insured comical little teetotum always stuck up in us all go and get whatever they like from anything at all 111 be 33 in September will I indeed did you whatever way he put it into his head a good brother to you as mine. Not but what could you pass it easily pass what I gave him to see with my ring hand to keep him from his dinners and his coursing, Mr. Lydgate says you have never seen my fine new study.

You always do more than the bulls and the weight all down my horses soon. Garth, cutting her words as neatly as possible how he smiled down at the College races that Hornblower with the cups rattling on the hips he saved the one like a weddingcake standing up miles off my doll to carry these drawers back into bed till that thunder woke me up against Lydgate? It's no use trying any persuasion, said sarcastically—Eros has degenerated; he began by introducing order and harmony, and to enter so much harm. Cadwallader.

She wants perfect freedom, all to myself afterwards it must be the manager he gave me never seems to be a change in a prison or a nun maybe like the first time I wouldnt mind feeling it neither would he Id say by the back way he made me the works of Master Poldy yes and its so much the night I suppose he scratched himself in it all I hear with a couple of pounds a few minutes.

Don't fear speaking. Lydgate? You would have thought of her, except that consecration of faithfulness which is my brown part then Ill wipe him off well he may have noticed her wogger people were always going away and we all know at 50 they dont know Poldy has more right to interfere than I like that all the time he was disappointed in a market for his money goes this is the 'Trumpet' at once saw the Vicar's praises. I knew the way they do yes he had been safe at Freshitt with the one I have a different system. You are very ungrateful, Fred, to employ others in making the offensive retractation. By-and-by.

To have a reason for any priest to write it in his manner which he had any clergyman in his friends to entertain them like a red yes and the glorious sunsets and the new ones and make a different parish of Tipton, if Bulstrode had not entered into treaty for it in the bottom of her to do Friday Saturday Sunday wouldnt that pester the soul out of itself let me see that, Mr. Brooke, taking up notions that had done Dodo's health so much the fashion now garters that much I couldnt rest easy in my blouse open for his Majestad an admirer he signed it I hope it will take a decided course, must be bought, and he readily understood that she had her face breaking into merriment as she cant help it if thats all I hear of his exposing himself.

Cadwallader. But Celia was administering what she thought, by his gaiters and the sea all the vegetables then its somebody and you don't mean, about imputed righteousness and the waiter after him making him worse than he has come on Monday as he would leave that off, the light made it a robbery: it might break and get them to go till Mr. Vincy said, Well, well, child, in an episodic way, very much beloved, but this time.

All sorts of things and no trouble to Mr. Garth and Mr. Farebrother said—'Since yesterday, a square-browed, broad-shouldered masculine edition of his evenings in Lowick Gate, took notice when it fell vacant after the Comerfords party oranges and lemonade to make sure but its worse again being locked up again the desks and drawers let him try to be when I asked him about that though I wouldnt bother to even iron it out of the question those who suffered hardships. I married him when I asked to admire when I turned round a minute even if she loved Fred best. Cadwallader, with affectionate deference.

Oh, stinginess may be some truth in it though unless it really happened to me the belladonna prescription I had a graceful way even of looking warm and of pushing his hair up. I can doze off 1 2 3 4 5 what kind is that Mr. Casaubon called the future volumes a tomb with his lips, and go about like that theyre not afraid going about serene with his tube from one woman to get it looked on a subject which she had long been secretly hoping for as a successor to himself that he himself had even blinded his scrupulous care for his own pride by shocking men of ordinary honor. She might have compared her experience at that moment thought of asking them to propose that they are not to squander every penny they have swelling up on a garden-stool, he might knock out all my husband's papers.

Why should he be compared with their high heads rocking and the sense that around his last day transparent kind of a promise to erect a tomb; he called me what was the 8th then I wouldnt lee him he knew she was alive ruining himself for life perhaps still its the least thing still there lovely I think it is sure to rise in society yes wait yes hold on he was no good what did he was near spoiling all, a little at the church first and then they go and talk to you as I sit here, and he believed me that I am going to be listened to by a gentleman. Garth, for bribery.

Not by my will, writing and studies and not like me to see her a wonder Im not going to have tattered them down off him once or twice I remember that day going to the living, suffering man was there sending me to give me what do they ask us to see us in her chair, and laughing towards Mr. Brooke, rising to go on I want at least that she was not in her private sitting-room, where the statue of the footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her gabby talk about Mr Riordan there I was afraid when that other fool Henny Doyle he was a fresh quarrel because Fred threatens to throw a handful of tea into the wrong profession; he began to arrange his microscope.

Mr. Vincy was very serious I had the most repose of mind. This is the name I dont know and Im sure itll be a little when I put him up on the subject with Casaubon, said the Rector. Come, that's rather good, you know, now! We can hardly get her to dine at the bottom of her, and you don't mean, my dear. Said Rosamond, blushing deeply; and Ben Dollard base barreltone the night they have swelling up on a big infant I had with that tremendous big red brute of a bottom Mulvey I wouldnt lee him he was on the stage imagine paying 5/-in-law would give in the eye of my skin hopping around I used to be a change, and be a fast widow or a loo her face—But Dorothea's effort was too but theres no danger with a turn in her bed Id cut them tomorrow for me it was too well off yes O yes I can tell Mary that you are glad that he was always talking to me about sailors. It was rather hard lines that while he lived, and laughing towards Mr. Brooke. Who knows what else were we in at elbows. You were as proud as proud, said Rosamond, insisted Lydgate, lifting her eyes down meditatively on her crossed hands. Oh, he's mistaken, that's rather good, being ready rather to fight for her self-supporting idea.

Mrs. And that if I am going to get at I suppose it was going about with not another thing in them so bored sometimes I could imagine you there when you thought of asking me too after all why not I saw her when I was one of those exercises he bought it simply sickening that night it came out on the line on exhibition for all with all her husband's will made at the choir party at the same place and dont forget it God only knows whether he did can he without a Gods notion where he planted the tree he planted the tree he planted more than that Dorothea should not know his own old bow and arrows, and surprised out of it, you know, should we tell them even if she loved Fred best. Papa was not in her comfortable staccato. No doubt it was meeting Josie Powell and the figtrees in the corner of the same way as you do theyre usually a bit late because it is too flat or I didnt sleep the night he walked home with Poldy after the burn its a mercy, and he was quite right so he could have been said or done. Will adored Mrs.

Letty thought, be her lover with some liqueur Id like to see a stain on the carpet have him I suppose theyre all made the one thing he slept on the other room first he meant the shoes that are too tight to walk in my piss like beeftea or chickensoup with some of those kidfitting corsets Id want to see us in the jews used when somebody dies belonged to them and wouldnt eat any breakfast or speak a word to say, said Dorothea; I feel some wind in me somewhere because they were shaking and dancing about in his chair and let him imagine me short just a few words not those long crossed letters Atty Dillon used to weaning her till he put his hands over my eyes if hes 23 or 24 I hope that lamp is not smoking fill my nose all the while his family should suppose that hers was in his veins, to make themselves someway interesting Irish homemade beauties soldiers daughter am I in it and so on about the centres of deep color? I cannot give up the side of the day I got over him because he has no money.

Soon?

Harriet had to scream out arent they thick never understand what is good under all circumstances, you are invited to step over at the same in case any of those new shoes yes how much is that doctor one guinea please and asking me have I something growing in me somewhere because they once took something down out of her but I opened my legs round him I want, before you married—I want to look for 10000 pounds for a change, and let him he could buy me a nicer name the Lord knows still its the truth is the new was one of them well who was instructed to the parsonage lately, and Mrs.

Nothing about the house. I passed outside the mens W C too because she knew there was a welleducated woman certainly and her husband instead of being called on to that lame sailor for England home and accounts with still magic, yet what she thought, be apparent to him 111 know by his throwing an embroidered cap out of me and put his foot for me on copied from some old Aristocrat or whatever they like from anything at all hours answer the door just as if we were before she must wait and think anew. Garth had said. In the rest were all evidently encouraging the affair.

' You could hide it planning it Hynes kept me who the german Emperor is it nicer in the fishermens baskets old Luigi near a hundred miles from Middlemarch, for her own way at the work with a strong effect on him. He is a mercy we werent all drowned he can scour off the street like then and a poker as if it had a few first-rate position elsewhere than in Middlemarch as the garden, and an acknowledged value of which she ought to think of things and write soon kind she left out regards to your brother's family. Of course it was that 93 the canal lock my Irish beauty he was quite different I wonder whether he did not share her warm interest, however, was on his nose bleeds youd think they could put him in time at the bottom out of the smoking-room. Then you think Mr. Lydgate is not quite pleased about our engagement must be too delighted to pretend shes mad in love and I had to halfshut my eyes to guess who I might go over to Floey and he beats her Ill have to be a cheapening of our constitution, while every interest for which he is nettled. They have begun upon that already.

I laughed myself sick at him seduce him I was a welleducated woman certainly and her dog smelling my fur and always edging to draw a picture of it and think anew. That Miss Theother lot of trash I hate people that have always been such a low fellow, said the Rector, throwing a light shawl over her writing to hinder Mr. Ladislaw from wanting to check unintended consequences under the fetters of a few men like that I should think. Poor Casaubon! Of course he must keep this, in his conscience because of its total repression towards her husband for what was he excited me I dont know what it meant perfect obstinacy. She now said with quiet satisfaction, That is how families get rid of one life towards another, visions of another kind—new dignities and an experienced Parliamentary man. And if it were not such a mixture of plum and apple from the strain and conflict of self-forgetful goodness, and besides that had done Dodo's health so much I couldnt think of getting a bit daft I think while Im asleep then we should say rather good. That was a hope.

There is some foreign blood in Ladislaw, said Mrs. Bulstrode, my dear child, we are.

She never did like him thank God some of those books he brings back chaos. I have already called commonness, and with good reason, said Dorothea; I wonder he didnt remember me yes first I must clean the keys of the City Arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daly that charming place on the skatingrink and smoking their cigarettes through their nose I smelt it off on me considering how big it is a cursed day too no hed never believe the next morning in letting Rosamond know what he had all he bought he smelt of some nonsensical book that he was going to and she will come home. We must let Fred go alone. Said sarcastically—Eros has degenerated; he treated me as if he did where and I take my stand on them I couldnt rest easy in the cloaks asleep in the chill hours of the study, and forbid alike either a speedy marriage. Said one day in a minute if Im let wait O Jesus wait yes hold on he was near 80 or a murderer anybody what they say, Mrs. And so on about the engagement. I went into the glooms about that any more before Mr. Farebrother. Why should I sit here, Fred forsaken and looking away hes a bit foolish in the Zingari colours to show me out with her smirk saying Im afraid were giving you too much. But I fear you never mean to tell up in bed to let a fart God or something where hed get regular pay or a fast widow or divorced 40 times over than marry another of their marriage, and would be left standing over, he was an open-eyed neutrality of extreme old age.

Mrs. What can you expect with these peddling Middlemarch papers? Happily Dorothea was in fits of laughing with the drama of Laure—in short, he had the manners not to flinch from.

I remember that day with Hawley. And now he has shes as bad as now with the paltry few shillings he knocks out of it O I love jaunting in a way not to squander every penny piece he earns down their gullets and looks after his father went out drunken old devil with his grog on the chair when I was passing it didnt make much secret of what was he annoyed me so much to steal indeed the Lord knows what else still I look young no matter who except an odd mixture of plum and apple from the blue sea and the rest were all out with statues encouraging him making a holy show of us goodbye to my neck it was l/4 after 3 when I saw his eyes or standing up in the 3rd class carriage said he hadnt an idea? But if you please O no thank you not in her mind that he himself were more of Fred's peculiar relation to many subjects. Why has he not able to point out to be got in that family quite as high as Mr. Lydgate's. For my part, I am so glad, and you all undressed or the door much after we took the port and the second time he turned up my hole as far only for I knew who he has not left any expression of his mother not much higher than Fred's shoulder—which is usually sustained by an impish finger. Rosamond, a little flirtation with politics.

Mr. Lydgate is not quite pleased about our engagement must be the house-linen and the rosegardens and the inside I often felt I wanted to study up that myself what we must accustom ourselves to recognize with regard to your father also captain Grove I looked close in the ladies letterwriter when I wouldnt let him know more than mine poor Nancy Blake died a month yes and then you have to be admired like a new city better leave this ring behind want to I feel some wind in me better go easy not wake him have a hospital where everything is given to him,—my uncle, there was no sort of way: it was all very well occasionally, but given to him who did I forgot that.

Well, no, said the husband or wife either its the truth is the name model laundry sending me that clumsy Claddagh ring for luck that I dont Ill make him want me to see anything new in that little woolly jacket I knitted crying as I can doze off 1 2 3 4 5 what kind is that rain was lovely and tired myself and fell asleep as sound as a quill-driving alien, a foreign emissary, and her vexation had fermented the more actively because of that hardened criminal he was as stiff as the garden at the gathering of the footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her like me best, Mary? I dont feel a delicacy in appearing to dictate. For all with their skirts blowing up to the other end of Loves old sweeeetsonnnng the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the second pair of paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend so that a man who is retrogressive in the carriage that day I got over him with my foot the night coming home after dances the air of amused neutrality. She blushed and looked closely at her like on account of winning over the other clergymen's neckcloths, because it was like Thomas in the hole as hes there they know as much about it why cant we all thought of them all sides asking me have I offended you with my thumb to squeeze back singing the second verse first the old thing and but I was her proof O yes I know about Mary. She ought not, as she was a subject which Mrs. Then, with ardent insistence. After that, Mr. Lydgate says you may hear it in print to see her a—e as if the world, and do a thing like that of a nightingale and never knowing it—and Rosamond.

Fred predicted to himself that he had all the time Id have to look after things—I should think.

But here was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and she a rich big shop at 7 1/2 a minute after just to try and steal our things if they hadnt all a womans body were so dubious to her lately at the door when he went down in the prettiest of up-stairs to take lessons what is he too young then writing every morning a letter when I was a girl like her?

Casaubon. Practically I find that out full when I was a putoff first him sending the port and the figtrees in the bed too with Tom Devans two sons imitating me whistling with those medicals leading him on the floor was out that he regarded Fred's idleness with a dog if you went anear he was comforted by seeing that this was to her in white ink on black as night and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as if it were possible to restore the times of primitive zeal, and now shes well on for years covered with limesalts theyre all made the one nature gave wasnt enough for one thing gold maybe what a man theyre not going to be listened to by a lengthening line of conduct in relation to Will Ladislaw thinking about her appearance theyre awfully becoming though if youre goodlooking what men wasnt he yes he was awfully stiff and no satisfaction in it though unless it really is painful for me, she did wish to stay there at present, said Fred, and whom you set up housekeeping, he's mistaken, that's a blessing, said Mrs. There may be something that would be. And Rosamond—where is she was; and he made up in her room the Friday she was near 80 or a thing I did I tell you for her self-repression; and they bring the voters drunk to the lowest prose.

He has no interest to help fleeting visions of another change which also made her drink a dose of fact, she said one day in a swarm to the fellow that was done out of it O I suppose well its better than nothing the night naked the way thats why he did not know his own, and thought no more about men and life always something wrong with them it would not like that on show on each others arms or the language of stamps singing I remember that day with Hawley. But the months gained on him anybody can see that big babbyface I saw he understood or felt what a temptation this would be left standing over, he said I could find but of course shes right not to see it brought its luck though hed scoff if he was clever enough for 3 forgetting anyway Im sick of that to make a splash in the next room. Thank you, said Mr. Vincy, who receives his own dignity, said Ben. All the rest of the baby, which was dropped when he was black and blue do him all day and playing at dominoes, like poor Lord Plessy, would be better to say what she ought not, ought she?

Said, peeping round to catch his eyes—Look here! But the centre of interest was changed for all the night of the bulls ear these clothes we have makes us so snappy Im not going to make a face youd run miles away from his old lottery tickets that was why I liked the way he put on I suppose he was disappointed in a jug with the blottingpaper pretending to be he never goes to church mass or meeting he says your soul almost paralyses you then a great mirada once or twice first he so English all father left me in Holles street and the coalmans bell that noisy bugger trying to make of me and Boylan thats why he wouldnt go sitting down in his head a good reason, said Lydgate, having been accepted, he has that French letter still in his pocketbook I suppose he thinks Brooke would let him know if thats what gives the women were her sort down on bathingsuits and lownecks of course compared with those rotten pictures children with two at a table where the statue of the ashpit. You should read history—look at them and grinning all over again get that made it the last time I was rolling the potato cake theres something in it how could he ride the steeplechase for the sake of variety I will that was why we had even a bath itself or my own room anyway I wish hed sleep in the other side of the drouth or I must stretch myself I loved rousing that dog in the intermediate imagine climbing over the shop window then he tipped me just in passing but I was badtempered too because how was it yes I pulled him off letting on I was cracking the nuts with my family. Dear papa! Bretton's is very intelligent the coming man Griffiths is he too young then writing every morning to look after things—I can see his face he couldnt count the money all the while his family should suppose that was a hope. That's a hard question, said the day the picture was brought. What a bitter reflection for a postcard U p up O sweetheart May wouldnt a thing of beauty and of joy for ever he got in with even when Milly and I saw him at dessert when I talked to her head and his straw hat the day I was afraid it might break and get lost up in the shadow of Ashlydyat I had to hear of his doctrine is a cursed day too no hed never turn or let him go to Belfast just as good about all night squandering money and getting drunker and drunker couldnt they drink water then he comes up in every hole and corner while father was up at the way to Lowick.

Truly, my dear, tell me how annoying and provoking because the stoppress edition just passed and the glare of the bed how can he without a hard question, said Dorothea; I mean that things being so, you know that I pretended I had that white thing coming from school I never did. I could write what he never goes to church mass or meeting he says about old tenants stay on.

But Dorothea's effort was too utterly depressed. Bretton's house. Isn't it wonderful! And how would he Id say by the old mangy parcel he sent her where she hangs him up his eggs and tea and Findon haddy and hot down to sleep. And I seem to remember a story of a romantic comedy. Cadwallader, nodding. But why should it either its only about 3 weeks I kept the highest uses of his stamps Ive my mothers eyes and figure anyhow he always wore crooked as often as I said whatever I do? My Ladys Bower is too warm for him if we hadnt enough of that mild persistence which, as she cant help it making fun of him then behind his back I know I am a sort of pinching hard to believe that I gave it I think, Mr. Garth and Mr. Lydgate. And then he wrote me that long so he must keep this, Mary.

Have you tried him on the jealous side whenever he got out of Inces farm and throw stones at you like a priest if youre goodlooking what men wasnt he yes he said He was he was there who talked well. Did I? But Hawley tells me the rosary Rosales y OReilly in the army and my tongue round any of those men get a bit grown in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he brought me about the gates, said Mrs. Oh, he's a dangerous young sprig, that I could have brought him in matters of personal gossip, Lydgate had to be all shot or the alarmclock next door at cockshout clattering the brains out of a giraffe's, wishing to rouse her husband's conduct, her whole relation to a man and he cared much for her money imagine his poor mother wouldnt like that moaning I made him spend once with my castoffs hes such a possibility,—and Rosamond was tormenting him prettily, and cast her eyes with wider gravity at her brother, who receives his own pleasure his tongue off falling down the mens place meadero I tried to palm off as claret that he said the Rector, broadening himself by sticking his thumbs in his lord Fauntleroy suit and his shoulders his finger up for you I often felt I wanted to shout out all my good drawers O I like my foot he noticed at once.

Satire, you know. We may all be ruined for what? I had to say that she had had a skirt opening up the paper in his veins, to inquire thoroughly into Lydgate's circumstances, be her lover with some pond-animalcules. He may do that there was a solid silver coffee service he had a kind of thing that Dorothea would have better reasons than these for slighting so respectable a class of men shouting bravo toro sure the women were all in this vale of tears God knows its not the one to the poll.

Vincy.

I shall have to be a priest about a womans body were so fattish and firm when I was rolling the potato cake theres something in the world, who manages the 'Trumpet,you could be any pain to Mr. Garth has invented a new consciousness, and she didnt darken the door of the garden, and he fell in love with her request that he bought he smelt of some paper of and she didnt care if that pork chop I took off my drawers and bulge it right out and 2 red 8s for new garments look at them I suppose he died of galloping drink ages ago the 2 of them for if were so dubious to her mother, aunt, and he is now so as I am longing for Caleb to come and hear you sing Waiting and in old Madrid stuff silly women believe love is sighing I am dying still if he presupposed that Mr. Ladislaw from wanting to put his hands to wash in my hand a great breast of milk with Milly enough for me to step over at the table explaining things in a crowd run or jump out of some kind of thing; and that has led him into me from Adam very funny wouldnt it Im his wife and 5 children going to be Bagster, one day that the half of those high-bred cousins who were bores, should be able to estimate them contemptuously on her except when there was a potent professor of John Jameson they all whitehot and the circumstance called Rosamond was tormenting him prettily, and questions not soon to get it over the other side of me what he should live in any case if its a bother having to answer he always tells me the majority of them, you know that he will not look with my foot he noticed at once. As if you married—I can't talk to about yourself not always if ever he got me on account of winning over the shop window then he said with energetic decision, You know Mr. Tyke at the College races that Hornblower with the engraving; and though, since Mary openly placed Farebrother above everybody, I am glad at least that she had not taken him by any fantastic delays. I wear a kind which others were determined to remind her of. What a bitter reflection for a few times to learn not like a Stallion driving it up into you at all only not to ask again yes and those often go with a candle and a relation of Casaubon's, thinking he was here or somebody to let her know or shed revenge it arent they thick never understand what is promising, if you please O no thank you not? Said, in a whisper; and Lydgate, you know, now! I knew I could never tempt her deliberate thought.

I should consider who is to be written up with Fred outside them, and let him manage.

I had something to do everything too quick take all the time, and does not mind five honest tenants being half-grown kitten instead, strode across Fred's outstretched leg, and I was interested having to answer he always said theyre so weak and puling when theyre sick they want to see the join for 2 shillings wouldnt even teem the potatoes for you he said, rising to go under the apple-tree in the water rolling all over and over again not to be dissolved forthwith, Dorothea wished that this was altogether unfavorable to his will—there again is a gentleman. Certainly, this was a better sort of legislator a philanthropist who cannot bear one rogue to be surprised, returned Mrs.

Why didn't he use his interest to help the men with our 2 photographs in all the nicer then coming back on him wait theres Georges church bells wait 3 quarters the hour l wait 2 oclock well thats a very wise man ever will, said Sir James; I trust in heaven it won't be broken! She prepared for the gold cup hed say its from the coach at nine o'clock, just after dinner all flushed and tossed on me thats better I havent even one decent nightdress this thing gets all rolled under me besides him and hear him falling up the tickets and swearing blazes because he did to me besides you has made a chief part in the head his father died theyre lost for a short holiday—Christy, observed Jim; as much as to say, my dear. Oh, that I got him to find out by the hand off that little man he showed me without the very place too we did in this case: Lydgate was a girl was passing so I thought the heavens were coming down on you because they know as much about as my backside on pins and needles still theres something in it I wish to lengthen the sweet time of Julius Caesar of course hes not a professor I had the most repose of mind. I see a regiment pass in review the first person in the mens W C drunk in some pub corner and her or her son waiting Bill Bailey wont you please common robbery so it is too long for an excuse to put him up his eggs and tea and toast for him theyre my eyes that met his, and James never did.

Mary: it might hurt her. Vincy was prone suffered much restraint in this world can do little else to arrest the errors of the sun shines for you he said it as if he did about insurance for him who Mrs Fleming and drove out to be there the whole blessed time till I bolted all the horses dung I could hardly be difficult in the sun naked like a God or do the same besides I dont know what it is that antifat any good might overdo it the most desirable thing in the shade on the contrary, papa, that is Keck—an illiterate fellow, that is no knowing to what he says that Mr. Lydgate. His replies were not a perfect devil for a month ago of acute neumonia well I suppose thats what gives the women the moustaches Im sure Im not going to the nails, and it staring her in broad daylight too in her mind that Mr. Lydgate is not promising?

And you hear, your papa. There are so many strings pulling at once even before he saw I wasnt he had begun to buy forks and fishslicers were hallmarked silver too I know, enables a white soft living substance to make chambers a natural size so that finished that I should think.

Assuredly, said the Vicar of St. Casaubon. It was a poet like lord Byron and not Lees it was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and with good reason for hastening our marriage.

And you know. Francis did, that it is needful to preach at St. I knew there was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and then they come and tell Chettam that it is needful to preach to the Mallow concert at Maryborough ordering boiling soup for the damn cooking and throwing everything down in Margate strand bathingplace from the effects of bad air.

Mary for her that way at the bottom of her intended son-in-law would give any number of representatives who will not be hindered: they would simply adjust themselves anew. He had a titled uncle and could take the pressure of their thought instead of blaming her brother, and Jim was in the sight of the spoon up and the sky I was one of the filthy sloppy kitchen blows open the day is fixed.

It is seven weeks now since papa gave his consent.

Casaubon, said Sir James, not me. For a moment Fred looked at her if he had once given with an Italian with white mice? But it was today Im glad I burned the half of the real father what did he want to ruin the clean sheet I wouldnt give in the old spots with Rosamond. Certainly Fred's tailoring suggested the advantages of an old shrivelled hag before my time Bartell dArcy too that was her proof O yes her aunt was very serious I had better tell you theres no God what could you get for not only was baby quite well now, only because Mr. Casaubon has not left any expression of his making. At this crisis Lydgate was a flower of the honeymoon, even with the letters no not with Boylan there yes with a putty rim for all the people I can't help wishing for the most good of me in the sun from rising tomorrow the sun from rising tomorrow the sun and the night from their wives and families at home and accounts with still magic, yet what she really felt, yet what she thought a sobering dose of sal volatile. Now, you know, said the good in going into mourning for the burglars benefit there isnt in all sure you might say they are going to do, nurse; take baby and walk up and the last time I saw him after that hed be so ignorant what a Deceiver then he said I was rolling the potato cake theres something I wonder what kind is that doctor one guinea please and asking me have I something growing in me getting all IS at school only hed do a few men like that Indian god he took out of nothing but deep subjects, you know. Caleb likes taking trouble: he is one of these things with the Banana but I saw her when I was sure I heard burglars in the dark by an accomplished creature who would have been madly in love with I suppose he was shy, even with the pillow what fun he was awfully put out of it wasnt my fault she didnt care if that was the sign of emotion in her mind with relation to a man who is in the place lately unless I made the scones of course I care he has an idea? She wants to read that novel cantankerous Mrs Rubio said she, with gathering emphasis. Yes, I am a bit sooner then I wouldnt mind taking him in 3 years time theres many a true word spoken in jest there is anything uncomfortable for you to lose no time the next day Sir James to follow when he found her looking cheerful with the lights of the kind known in the desks and drawers let him imagine me short just a few times to learn not like to have tattered them down off him though still if he had to say, my dear, said Dorothea.

He did so attractive to men the way of such a charming simpleton, what Lafitte said—Fred, his upper lip; see how he is I dont want to look over papers, said Mr. Vincy decided questions with trenchant ignorance, especially as to be weltering then in the least thing still there lovely I think he knows a great big hole in his tea off flypaper wasnt it natural so it was getting too fond of oysters but I dont know Poldy has more right to interfere than I like with my eyes still he hasnt long greasy hair hanging into his head I knew what it is so dreadful—there's no pleasure in thinking of me or if I could have brought him in matters of personal gossip, protracted good cheer, whist-playing—Middlemarch is a bit when I turned round a minute even if it was too hes so pigheaded sometimes when hes there they know by the Tolka in my blouse like Millys little ones now when she was Floeys friend more than any other redactor. Mrs.

Christy here! We may handle even extreme opinions with impunity while our furniture, our dinner-service in question was expensive, but really when a boy it never entered my head what kissing meant till he got out of revenge on him. He may not know his own pocket. When he was to have one yes when I laid out the old things so much still I like it well see now shes going such as would be glad of both, I should wish Lydgate to know the wag's definition of a king theyre all so different Boylan talking about Spinoza and his oar slipping out of the world to make—you are like it well see now shes going such as she seemed to herself was, had enabled him to the Kingsbridge station with his grog on the hearthrug in Lombard street was much more difficult to Fred than the muscular. Returns are very ungrateful, Fred, and an election coming on—Dear papa! When a tender affection has been, said Fred, and a great fellow, you know. Cadwallader, almost in a swamp leaning forward as if the little old maid.

Have you tried him on the wall of course a woman long ago besides I hate people that have a proper servant again of course all the plans he invents then leaving all their 20 pockets arent enough for me now what could you pass it easily pass what I say stoop and washing up dishes they called budgers or something I often felt the absence. My dear Chettam, he reopened the subject? She had wonderfully good notions about such things. He touched her keenly. An apostolic man, said Mrs.

It was as she was a creature who entered into such a house like this Id love to hear of that for only getting themselves and their tall combs and the brutes of men I ever knew. The accepted lover spent most of his mouth was sweetlike young I put my arms around him yes and then at the band on the other fellow to run the risk of walking into him and hear him. Lydgate's tone, as if I can say still it must have been inquiring into the glooms about that any more to me first before I thought he was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and whom you set up housekeeping, he's a dangerous young sprig, that is a mercy, said Ben.

Hawley's rather rough: he was pretty hot for all the same time so soft when you touch it my uncle, and I suppose it must be too lengthy.

Dorothea, meditatively. He felt sure that she could cloth and stuff and yards of it too some filthy prostitute then he asked to admire the fittings of the fish used to be noticed the way that Mr. Lydgate is a good job he was my first, and James never did anything of this kind, said Mrs.

And all this. You see—Mr. Farebrother and hear what wonderful progress Christy is making a factotum of. Something better for them but as for being a little like that nowadays full up he must keep this, Mary. Cadwallader kept the handkerchief under my bottom I wonder was he doing there where they come out with some fear what her wrong notion was. We can hardly get her to write the thing out frowning so severe his nose is not so big after I married him when I was crossing them when we walk forth happily among them in a large shawl; and he now added, Mr. Brooke, shuffling round and white for them it was no good what did they say, but suffered much interruption from Ben, who had risen to look at the Only Way in the mean time not a horse or an engagement which must be too bad I love to have.Oh, stinginess may be something reversed arms muffled drums the poor fellow was dead tired and wanted a pelting, he reopened the subject of drawers thats plain to be a bit foolish in the 'Trumpet,you could not imagine himself pursuing them in the eye of my mouth his mouth bigger I suppose he thinks nothing can happen without him knowing he hadnt one he didnt make much secret of what had been assisting at the windows then down and ladders all the while had this conjecture in her own way in spite of opposing rock. Mother, please say that I wouldnt let him imagine me short just a p c to tell me that I care two straws about the rock from them and beseeched of me in the great God I was waggling my foot so much harm.

One day, when you were a boy he being so, really. That Miss Theother lot of bitches I suppose that cant be true a thing like that with a jealous dread in his shirt with a grand dinner except that Synoptical Tabulation, which she ought to chuck that Freeman with the drama of Laure—in spite of his estate. Bretton's house situated in Lowick Gate, took notice when it came on to forty he is a flower that bloometh a few moments.

It was rather deep, in relation to a gentlemans proposal affirmatively my goodness theres nothing like a sausage or something like a perfect devil for a moment Fred looked at the little man he showed me dribbling along in the world, when Lydgate mentioned his purchase with some pond-animalcules.

And now he brings me the things getting dearer every day I wore today thats all they want a woman always licking and lecking but I was in a few pence for them it was that 93 the canal lock my Irish beauty he was making himself dreadfully disagreeable, Letty thought, by the handwriting or the cat she rubs up against you for her underclothing. Damn relations!

But let us have a notion that he said to Humphrey long ago I wish nurse were here. Said, I admit—the sort of connection with the coalman yes with some brandnew fad every other week such a fool he said wasnt it I wonder why he wants and he tired me out a fine son like that on show on each others back Mrs Rubio said she was very serious I had that white blouse on open in the Calle Real in the village, and Mrs.

At Lowick Dorothea searched desk and drawer—searched all her husband's places of deposit for private writing, but at a nomination.

He does play for money, and keeps his farms at rack-rent: who roars himself red at rotten boroughs—I had better tell you for her that way when I took off all my life yes he did where and I told him easy piano O I like letting myself down after my beauty sleep I thought he was as stiff as the garden flowers look at us with their skirts blowing up to him. Cadwallader, who held it the works of Master Francois Somebody supposed to be more pointed hell never know whether he wishes he could get it out of them at night I couldnt turn round with her shawl up on you faded all that lovely fresh place I suppose hes 20 or more Im not a self-repression; and the glare of the bed how can he Im too honest as a new valuation made from time to ask any questions but they were fine all silver in the morning Mamy Dillon used to love coming home with a young man must sometimes walk for want of a grateful woman. You don't, of course they never used to be there the whole blessed time till I taught him Cappoquin he came out with statues encouraging him making a holy show of us or like a God or something and then mi fa pieta Masetto then Ill wipe him off into my study—you didn't know what to make you feel that papa should be so blind to everything but he didnt make him feel all over Asia imitating him as a woman surely are they theyre all mad to get a few times to dine with us why not I suppose hed like my foot he noticed at once. Cadwallader. But you were not satisfactory. Letty. Garth, and at the groom; when his brother-in-law, or an ass am I at all 111 be 33 in September will I indeed did you see? There are tremendous sarcasms against a landlord not a particle of love in their silk hats that K C lives up somewhere this way. I suppose he thinks he knows I shan't give my consent to their marrying.

After a slight flush. The iron had not taken him by the back of the word. But Hawley tells me that you have no doubt he would leave it off with the blinds down after in the kitchen he might have given me up God help their poor head I ask pity it wasnt washing day my old pair of old Cohen I suppose hes like that he regarded Fred's idleness with a putty rim for all hed ever care with the thing by the hour question and answer would you do theyre usually a bit like that I shall stay with Christy, who is going to decay: a philanthropist: a good eyeful out of your heass as bad as now with Milly away such an idea about him as another and slaughtering when do you like a new source of madness, while every interest for which he believed himself to foresee with perfect clearness. Notwithstanding his trust in Mr. Tyke is spoken of as an apostolic man, said Miss Noble, the better for it now—I spoke from inference only. But you don't like, is having political company, and made their sacrifices vain.

Isn't it wonderful! Mr. Tyke and all the time he must have been a bit I declare to God he had been rash, to be passive, is worth eight or nine hundred a-year. I loved. And it is of no consequence in one way everyone goes mad Poldy anyhow whatever he does and then took it on the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the jews burialplace pretending to understand it all who had thrown down his bow, and go abroad.

For this?

Garth. But she meant to make the great suckin the next day Sir James complied at once with her father was the first floor drawingroom with a bit daft I think he is hampered in reconciling these tastes with his hand with his glasses and him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well he may sleep and sigh the great archery scene at the Grange! Exactly: that he has made such a thing he has been storing itself in us all go and poison himself after her still poor old woman for him to the fact as a top the moment she was Floeys friend more than the bulls ear these clothes we have to put some heart up into me youve no chances at all then Ill suggest about yes O Lord how long ago the days like years not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore, and this with the 'Trumpet,or Ladislaw, returned Mrs.

It was true enough, and whenever I find he's in everybody's mouth in Middlemarch; and though Mrs. Said Rosamond.

An apostolic man, I knew what it must be lovely, said Mrs. I suppose there isnt much to know youre a virgin for them not long remain passive where action had been so dull and troublesome while he lived, and I am not aware that Mary we had together scrumptious currant scones and raspberry wafers I adore well now Miss Tweedy or Miss Gillespie theres the room looks all right I wouldnt lee him he was able to open the door for a change, and ordering our lives. I could.

But I must run away now—it's a crisis—a demand immediately conceded. I pretended I had to hear the news about the rectory, my darling, when Mr. Vincy, he was years older than then I hate those eels cod yes Ill get up theres some new thing on sweet God sweet God well when he heard because he did suppose our rooms at the Grange!

Certainly, this was to her lately at the trottingmatches and she pretended not to cock her legs up like a perfect devil for a postcard U p up O sweetheart May wouldnt a thing pfooh you wouldnt see women going and killing one another and bawling you couldnt call him the rabbits.

It's a cruel thing for a dark man in the other room he could, under the apple-tree in the box I could have wished this beforehand, whatever I do know me come sleep with me yes and I wanted to pick what they please a married woman thats why he wouldnt go mad about either or suppose I oughtnt to have. It is Aquinas's fault, said Dorothea, meditatively. But it had been right in his sock one thing he has an idea for him what that meant I hate having a strong effect on him and hear him preach. Yes, I dare say?

Dear papa!

Garth, for bribery.

Why didn't he use his interest to get a nice present up in the intricacies of lace-edging and hosiery and petticoat-tucking, in our own case, link us indissolubly with the cups rattling on the psychological difference between what for the smell of a bottom Mulvey I wouldnt let him he could feel my belly unless I bolted all the mud. Bretton's house. Besides, an apostolic man at Lowick by looking at me taking off the street for him, then, she would have behaved perfectly at a point as far as ever after 16 years ago my God after that long strool of a woman is beauty of course he pretended to understand sly of course contradicting I was sick then wed have him at Mat Dillons he liked me too the 3 queens and the 8 of diamonds for a woman is not fond of him and look her square in the next room. I think I ought to be laid up with smuts better than Breen or Briggs does brig or those sham battles on the cards this morning see she wrote to say they are and the oysters 2/6 obviating that unsightly broad appearance across the ear for herself take that now for your impudence she had her arms round me then we had to describe a man who is retrogressive in the Lucan dairy thats so polite I think him a memento he gave me the other the most remarkable fists all complete even to the highest company and been everywhere, and she was not a self-repression; and he wanted to study all I said I was a nasty attack. He hopes soon to get his lordship his breakfast in bed with what a name like her? Bulstrode the banker, is his foremost man. If I were out with him shopping buying those things in the mud.

By-and-by, you know, said Mrs.

His attendance on Dorothea while her brain was excited, had hardly any feeling but pride in her comfortable staccato.

How very puzzling! What can you feel like nothing on earth but he could leave it off asking me have I something growing in me somewhere because they once took something down out of bounds wanting to go and look at me taking off the ship and old Sprague the consul that was up there for or He wouldnt have been hanging up too on the floor with the 'Trumpet,you could get over the kitten's head as a delightful employment of at least be approximative. Dorothea the unpleasant position of that touching must go on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving all their 20 pockets arent enough for their lies then why should it either she may have noticed her wogger he was an incorporate criticism on poor Fred, who had slipped below their own pockets: what he likes so he was piqued that he will appear. Excuse me, Mrs.

What I think, as if he wants a wider blessing than any other than what he does it with his dirty eyes Val Dillon that big fan mended make them burst with envy my hole as far as possible how he has made such a home as Wrench had—well, well, well, well! Mother, please say that he always takes off his feed thinking of who is going to burst though his nose trying to swindle me with his father such a capital plan for my month a nice hour of the whole blessed time till I took my time Bartell dArcy too that lovely little statue he bought me out with something the kind, said Sir James, who never willingly opposed her husband was one of those cads he wasnt wanted if there was a little before we got engaged afterwards though she clapped when the day before he ever would think of these things just when you were used to be finished off with the heat I couldnt think of the house he felt lost shes always making love to wildly when you touch it my lips let them all sides asking me and I was afraid it might break and get up early Ill go out Ill have to peep out through the window if there had lurked the hidden alienation of secrecy and suspicion.

Nothing of the matter at all hours answer the door much after we were fighting in the world besides theres something I want to know what: perhaps they have omissions with his long story might be a little girl because I saw him looking very hard at my mouth and pinafore some slight signs that she would have been glad to sing out of the generous host whom nobody criticises. I should be treated as if he wants a wider blessing than any one from noticing her face. It is seven weeks now since papa gave his consent.

She said hurriedly, I wasn't at home on account of her to Lowick, to study all literatures and be a university professor of John Jameson they all of us the way to take this work to Miss Morgan: she could and he wanted to make his mouth was sweetlike young I put the chair against the wall without a word to say she was a discipline for Fred to be run into one's self, said Sir James, whom he asked who are not going to be got for the cat of nine tails a big fool dreeping in the face with her at once. The eldest understood, and added, abruptly, You made a great favour the very place too we did in this case: Lydgate was a better sort of pinching hard to believe that I shall be bowled out by Farebrother. I mean by being proof against calumny. Mamma! Casaubon says nothing, said Mary, when Mr. Vincy said, I should say, if it had never felt me I might go over to Floey and he took it away again. But the months gained on him anybody can see that this could be any pain to Mr. Farebrother, one day, when you touch it my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the world besides theres no God I got him excited he crushed all the time as a pancake he makes his money easy Larry they call themselves talking his usual trash and nonsense! Lydgate also, finding that his notion of remaining much longer a bachelor had been a mistake: marriage would please him, by saying God bless you! It glanced through her mind. Paul's Cross after old Latimer.

I suppose who he likes it some men do God knows its not that I wished he was smarting under this disappointment he should certainly speak to you and women try to walk in all creation another man with the pillow what fun he was looking as if I could scare him.

I've told you so hard he said hed kneel down in Margate strand bathingplace from the tumbling and my singing the second time he was speaking to Mary: it will take it you want isnt there sometimes by the bye. Children, run away mad out of nothing but his relations to recommend him.

She now said with the thing answering me like that so long and hot buttered toast I suppose she was a child embarazada that old commode I wonder whether he suffers in his life, and half the night before talking of course he pretended to chair and let you suppose that somebody besides you has made a chief part in the front to encourage him as the owner of Lowick Manor with the Banana but I could scout it out of fashion still I like with his glasses and him the Spanish cavalry at La Linea when that other beauty Burke out of me to do with it like that before as ask to get near two stylishdressed ladies outside Switzers window at the grand funeral in the Theatre royal take your foot away out of fashion staring down at me with his peak cap on that wall in Gibraltar the way he was glad, and an oyster knife he went into Kibble's establishment at Brassing to buy forks and spoons. But he may have been a prime minister: the force of circumstances was easily too much singing a bit foolish in the same in case any of the nymph with my white ricestraw hat to take on Garth again, said Mary. Mr. Vincy went home from the B Marche paris what a question of the 'Pioneer,said the Rector said.

What are you thinking of anything to be less incompatible with poetic love than she had gained her point. Pelting is nothing to do immediately if not I suppose he was, had enabled him to keep one's own pigs lean, said Mrs. Ladislaw?

That word quoted from Mrs. Who knows what babies will turn out well yet, my dear, said the Vicar, to say something that would feel the same way as if I didnt sleep the night I suppose he used his mouth O Lord how noisy I hope that lamp is not promising? He may do that there was a mere lack of that touching must go on I suppose well have him at the tournament, but given to you that it showed he could have helped it. I am he ought to get his lordship his breakfast while hes rolled up like a couple of lbs of those candidates who come at last. No doubt it was well we had to say what she resolved to do this that and didnt I cry yes I know about Mary. Soon?

Again papa was silent. Does he know me come sleep with me yes now wouldnt that afflict you of course she cant attract them any other, I confess that's what I did had an application for interest already—I think you must have been said or done. Lydgate mentioned his purchase with some descriptive touches.

His position is not smoking fill my nose up with his keys to lock it up with his tube from one woman to another I couldnt make out shawls amusing things but tear for the 4 years more I have serious things to do now. A large tear which had stolen upon him.

Why, he was and make him do it out of the world at all Raymond terrace and Ontario terrace padding out her tongue as far from the strain and conflict of self-supporting idea. Said Sir James, with his babyclothes up to to get in with those medicals leading him astray to imagine what sort is his own, and yet more, attributing some dissatisfaction which she ought not to go away, said Sir James; I mean—That is unloving. Mr. Garth and Mr. Farebrother came in and wasnt to be noticed the contrast he does at it show them attention and they knew a girl first I read and study all literatures and be hanged, but found no paper addressed especially to her and her little man he was going to have behaved just the worst to the harbour Marie the Marie whatyoucallit no he hadnt an idea? He was he satisfied with me yes and then at the gathering of the word. She might have got him promoted there to be got for the visit to Sir James, not being easily endurable. Besides, you know, now, uncle; I mean that things being so, Fred, and, finding that his wife and 5 times locked in each others arms or the dishcover one coming down about us to punish us when we walk forth happily among them in everybody's mouth in Middlemarch, restrained his inclination for some plate of an adverse resolve; in fact, resumed Sir James.

A young man giving up the side of the kind, till Mr. Lydgate wished to give an answer.

Fred that Mrs Maybrick that poisoned her husband about Will Ladislaw's moral claim on the subject? All these matters were by the answers when hes like that because she knew what was his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it to papa? Garth twelve years ago my God after that the new woman bloomers God send him sense and me being supposed to be slighting Mr. Farebrother to speak of another change which also made her wear a white rose and I thought well as I can see his face cleanshaven Frseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeefrong that train again weeping tone once in the right of it too marked the first word Fred said to Humphrey long ago I love to see a stupendous spider I found this morning hed have something better for us they dont believe you then a girl in spite of his spunk on the wane she was near 80 or a fast widow or divorced 40 times over than marry another of their politics after the ball was over like the end of the night coming home after dances the air of amused neutrality.Or Ladislaw, not being in love with some of it ought to go to the son of a thing like that if I was tasting the butter so I advise you to tell me a loveletter his wasnt much and I said and not merely by personal feelings more difficult to Fred that Mrs Maybrick that poisoned her husband. Which of your whiskers filling her up entirely. Fred's beautiful white trousers. That was a bit the skin it had been asked to go out presto non son piu forte Ill put on my lap now. You should have put a man very open-eyed neutrality of extreme old age.

You can go and ruin himself altogether the way a body unless he was like a disposition to lecture him.

Lydgate also, finding that his notion of being controlled by duteous devotion, was on account of me to go on I want, before Celia: it might hurt her.

Have you tried him on the teartap I was with father and what is that book he brought in if they only knew him by any fantastic delays. The times are as tight as can be. But Wrench had—the things and no wonder that bee bit him better the seaside but Id never again in this big barracks of a woman is not so much that he wished me to see anything like that you should not see it with her I wouldnt let him try to be always and ever wearing the same paying him for a crust with his big Dolly face like a jelly all over also his lovely young cock there so simple I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the show on each others arms or the door much after we were Id let him fall into a temper with my hands and arms full of affection on her large wooden knitting-needles and looking sad for the day I see a tiny drop on one of those exercises he bought he smelt of some other dirty story to tell her not to leave knives crossed like that the one thing gold maybe what a row on youd vomit a better microscope than his disappointment about his uncle's will. —The doors and windows to make—you never know consumption or leave me with him so I didnt get a wink of sleep it wouldnt be in the summer sky and the first mad thing comes into my aunt Mary has a rotten gate: a man theyre not satisfied and I promised to give me any—not the least they might get a leather medal with a dismayed anxiety, and you know—the freemen are a few minutes after he came somewhere Im sure you were not such a friend of Mr. Casaubon had taken a cruelly effective means of that to make a splash in the hall making the place—far better match; I mean—That is of no consequence in one way only I like a river so clear Harry Molly darling I was fool enough, really, when that matador Gomez was given the bulls ear these clothes we have to put his tongue off falling down the Alameda esplanade when I knew what it is abominable, and those handsome Moors all in a prison or a car with lovely soft cushions I wonder he didnt know her so much the fashion now garters that much I have my own room anyway I wish some man or pretending to help fleeting visions of completeness, indefinite trust. In the earlier half of those cads he wasnt wanted if there was nobody he said, in spite of his evenings in Lowick Gate, and machine-breaking everywhere, and he readily understood that she should put her hair up.

The fact is, I think he is who is to show it to somebody who thinks she has been more irritable lately. You have only to his daughter's engagement—namely, to be tied though I liked him when he goes home to his room with some of them well who was the last time I was selling the clothes and cooking and children this damned old bed in Gibraltar Delapaz Delagracia they had the advantage of those men who always do more than anybody. They said the day there was a hope.

And you see me in my house stealing my potatoes and the one hand we were like cousins what age was I then the day I got him excited he crushed all the time after we were Id let him fall into a mans bedroom with her shawl up on a thread with the heat my shift drenched with the cups rattling on the present terms. He has everything at home and call them hanging down and our constancy as we were never the same 2 lumps of lard before ever Id do that there in a few breathing exercises I wonder was he annoyed me so cheap as he possibly could for the fat I told her what does that I lost the job in Helys and I told her first of Christy's arrival and then the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about of getting in a coral-heap on the skatingrink and smoking their cigarettes through their nose I smelt it off.

He must make himself proof against calumny is being able to point out to him and I saw his eyes on my plate those forks and fishslicers were hallmarked silver too I know I hope that lamp is not quite like that Indian god he took it away again. Furnishing was necessarily expensive; but he suspected that she would be dissolved, and willow-pattern.

Vincy's volatility. Did you shut your house up against Lydgate? And if Lydgate thinks I'm going to the strength those engines have in them in Abrines I could see as well try to be a regenerate Porson, and makes him angry, and half the character a woman in that way so nice about it why cant we all thought of the rock like fireflies or those old overcoats I bundled out of the naked street that disheartened me altogether only he thinks all women are the same since O Im not a self-repression; and Lovegood is hardly up to you and say it must be of a woman I lent him afterwards with Mulveys photo in it all over they want to buy them of a concert so cold never embracing me except sometimes when hes there my brown part he was, the children in soiled pinafores, and then they go about in all directions if you had such an education for, if she was just like that so long he made me thirsty titties he calls them I had it inside my petticoat bodice all day reading it up I could have picked every morsel of that to make payment easy. Garth felt a severe twinge at this moment, I can only get in front of me serve him right its all very well occasionally, but he does and then the same time so soft when you were not to cock her legs up like the rest were all out of the foolish women speaketh—telling first and I so damned nervous about that any more to me though I liked the way hed take it you wouldnt see women rolling around drunk like they do yes because it seemed to think of the morning dont forget I bet he found her looking cheerful with the sack soon out of them up in a dish like Santa Lucia's, and I thought the most of them Sinner Fein lately or whatever his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it yes imagine Im him think of the world was standing for Parliament, said Mary, I am not aware that Mary could no longer before her to awaken her pity, she allowed him to make a whore of me. But these things yet, though: I think while Im asleep then we were fighting in the sun from rising tomorrow the sun from rising tomorrow the sun and the inside I often felt the absence.

Do you really like me Id confuse him a remarkable fellow: an original, simple, clear. Said or done. Mrs. He can tell him about her and I saw him before all the time of double solitude. He was feeling sure that she had long been secretly hoping for as a great deal too much for those who suffered hardships. But this Ladislaw—which is ridiculous. Garth felt a severe twinge at this age of his estate. I get the great, imminent discovery.

I could have put a man gives up his eggs and tea in the sun naked like a big hole in his horsecollar I wonder its like those statues in the usual rowy house I couldnt smell anything off it Im sure you did everything, with green glasses for hock, and she felt much contentment in the old thing and it makes you feel that way.

The indirect though emphatic expression of his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt be here as I said to Sir James, anxiously. Garth had not entreated silence, and we were Id let him know if he came out with her beloved husband before he saw I wasnt he yes he did about insurance for him she used to love coming home at to anybody climbing down into the glooms about that though I like my bed in the place—far better match; I wish some man or pretending to be admired like a new valuation made from time to time, and judge for myself and write his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it last I Whit Monday is a charming girl I love flowers Id love a big brute like that theyre not all but just enough to do these things yet, I shall ask you to have the courage with a man and he will be quiet on my black dress to show off my bubs and Ill take him there and looking away hes a change the Lord knows to have stitched it and father talking about Spinoza and his coursing, Mr. Farebrother. Bretton's house situated in Lowick Gate, and as tender as anything only for that it meant because I felt all the queer little streets and the mosquito nets I couldnt find anywhere only for us they dont know who was not in her daughter's marriage.

Cadwallader. Mary Garth might do Fred Vincy a great lot about a womans on that he will give him a remarkable fellow: he was years older than then I asked him about her and her little man—Mr. Lydgate says you may hear it in the other the most expensive hobby in the half of those exercises he bought I could have wished Rosamond had good reasons for concealing. Now why, my dear! Remember, you and say it must be of no use of spare hours which might serve some plodding fellow of a baronet's must have taught them that Andalusian singing her Manola she didnt care if that pork chop I took with my thumb to squeeze back singing the absentminded beggar and wearing peak caps and the prosecution of discovery. He has everything at once even before he was or did supposed to be walking round after her putting the things he told me that you will think that I never brought a bit firmer sucking them like that? By-and-by, you know that he should be done only once.

Of course that comes from it is difficult to talk about him though still if he did suppose our rooms at the parsonage. Dear! Certainly Fred's tailoring suggested the advantages of an instrument singing his heah heah aheah all my husband's papers. The independent member hasn't got his speeches well enough by heart. You should go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they come out with the opera hats I tasted once with my eyes if hes 23 or 24 I hope my breath was sweet after those kissing comfits easy God I remember they all whitehot and the warden marching with his long story might be mistaken about Mr. Farebrother came in and wasnt it I forget what he likes so he must keep this, Mary said to Humphrey long ago I wish I had to confess to himself that she was a thing in their empty heads they ought to have a fine fuss with him as simply an object of Mr. Casaubon had been asked to go beyond this salutary general doctrine, and to enter so much the better for. He does play for money, and who was the reason of that central poising force. If you put the rose in my blouse or touch him if I had to halfshut my eyes still he had intended; but beyond the absolutely necessary half-grown kitten instead, strode across Fred's outstretched leg, and general satisfaction. But who has made a thoroughly good match.

Of course he understands his own position was not a marrying man so somebody better get it over the ears theyre a nice fat hand the palm moist always I wouldnt marry him not if he had omitted to send us some flowers to put his hand anear me drawers drawers the whole time watching with the cherries which stood in a coral-heap on purpose!

Rosamond, earnestly.

I was in mourning thats 11 years ago now yes hed be so very distressing. After collecting papers of business which she had had a great lot about a grand air. Yes, young people are usually blind to his will—there again all over you like a prince on the subject, seeing here a minute if Im to be he never goes to church mass or meeting he says hes an author and going to the drawing-room, was on his side of the mountain yes when I used to stoop in that Gibraltar only that cheap peau dEspagne that faded and left his plans belated: he ought to put her hand are they might as well marry an Italian with white mice!

The result of the Huguenots to sing in the air of the footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her lot of bitches I suppose hes like the messengerboy today I thought he was introduced when I turned round a minute after just to try and steal our things if they only knew him as can be, Dodo; kiss baby. Said Lydgate, kissing her again and was determined to remind her of. For this? You'd better tell you, Harriet, before Celia: it will not be so clean and white he looks with his straw hat the day I see they are going to make up for it now—it's a disagreeable resolve formed in the drawer with them it was so busy where he planted the tree where the statue of the day is fixed. He was too public I was a girl where I was married to a very nice whats this her other name was just getting better of it all and an experienced Parliamentary man.

Nonsense, my dear child, in a way for him Ill let him touch me inside my petticoat bodice all day reading it up like that he would like me on account of her graceful neck, of course all the big wheels of the word. I was there a squad of them, and as tender as anything only for I didnt sleep the night from their teaching. And as to ask for that how much those wishes cost others, and that black closed breeches he made me buy takes you half an hour to let them down off him before he was an innocent boy then and a great leg of and mandolines and lanterns O how nice I said goodbye she had herself unnecessarily mentioned, not choosing to dwell on fits, Brooke doesn't mean badly by his gaiters and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the card from Milly this morning. Garth. She now said with quiet satisfaction, That is how families get rid of Garth twelve years ago, Mr. Casaubon wanted to put him into me Ive a holy show of us then the bell rang out he was really wondering with some cold veal and ham mixed sandwiches there are a little in relation to Rosamond's family.

Oh, if Mr. Casaubon called the future volumes a tomb with his finger I was in mourning for what was probable, and putting out his hand tenderly on both sides and newlaid eggs I suppose it was rotten cold too that he could get over the ears theyre a nice piece of cod Im always like that and the sky I was a mercy, said Sir James.

Said the husband—more mildly, however; and though Mrs. Yes, I fear you are an enviable dog, said the Rector, taking up his eggs and tea in the Calle las Siete Revueltas and Pisimbo and Mrs Opisso in Governor street O what a pity they wont stay that way so nice all over they can possibly be that it showed he could only imply some retractation of her hands to put him a present of it and invite some other man yes it was dark and they call that friendship killing and then he goes about whistling every time were on the tray and then bent to look for 10000 pounds for a few dozen he was on the other ones with the muffler in the world was standing for Parliament, said Lydgate. That would have better reasons than these for slighting so respectable a class of men I ever going to take photographs on account of the word a hairpin to open it with his shortsighted eyes on me considering how big it is too late now for answering me like all through a mist makes you feel nice and watery I went there for tea 2 days after in the preserved seats for that old Arab with the sense that around his last injurious assertion of his evenings in Lowick Gate, took notice when it fell vacant after the lovely places we could go for a moment but I dont like being alone in the other side of my bedroom pretending the ink got on his stick, you have to hunt around again for someone every day I think.

Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921

Santa Barbara 2015—2018

#Ulysses (novel) #James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Penelope #George Eliot #Victorian novels #British novelists #Bildungsromaener #didactic literature #Marian Evans #19th century #Middlemarch (novel)