#holy cow his voice was crafted by the gods | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonbaby26 · 3 years

Text

(gif from Jason Passaro’s youtube edit here)

Title: One Shitty Friday Night (Part 1)

Pairings: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Colossus x Shadowcat

Summary: Set after the events of Deadpool 2, you and your boyfriend Peter are on a double date downtown with your fellow X-Men Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) and Kitty Pryde (Shadowcat) when Deadpool and Russell arrive unexpectedly. Chaos and violence naturally ensues, including taking down mafia henchmen, dealing with news media and paparazzi who circle in with the action, and a jealous Peter. This will be concluded in Part 2 with the mixed reactions of Logan, Charles, and Erik when you all bring Wade and Russell back home, etc. 😄

Notes: For simplicity’s sake as Piotr R. is normally called “Peter” as well, he’ll just be referred to as Colossus here.

Warnings: Some alcohol use. And it’s Deadpool, so a lot of cursing and irreverent jokes of course. This started out as just crack!fic that became actual fic that had to be split into two parts because it hit post limit. Holy cow.

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

Kitty all but snorted, trying to put her drink back down on the table before it could end up fully sideways instead as her laughter left her trembling.

Colossus sighed quietly, but you could still see the warmth in his eyes as he looked down at her before helping dab up some of her errant wine off the table with a thick cloth napkin.

It was late Friday night, and save for your semi disapproving, large and very Russian designated driver, the other three of you were now several drinks deep and a bit too loudly enjoying Peter’s retelling of the Led Zeppelin cover band debacle. You’d been there with him that night, but it never got old the way Peter told it.

“I shit you not, and this guy still keeps hitting on Jean.” Peter continued, his third nearly empty glass of craft beer still in hand. “Scott’s about to fry the dude. They’re playing Immigrant Song, and these lasers start up. All dudebros in the club go wild, and Scott tries to sneak off a warning shot. Freaking air balls it! I have to move like forty people and it still blows a damn hole in the wall. But nobody even noticed! Fake Robert Plant is screaming his heart out and everybody is just eating it up. I swear my Dad could have flown in there, cape billowing and they still would have thought it was part of the show!”

You were at risk of being elbowed in this small restaurant booth, with how animated Peter was as he spoke beside you. But you didn’t mind. The lighting was dim, possibly verging on romantic, the smell of good food from the kitchen reminded you of what was to come, and you were just enjoying time with some of your favorite people.

When Peter did finally drop his hand again though, the not so subtle movements of it then up your thigh also promised something much more personal later tonight. Maybe it was the warmth from the mixed drinks you were also nursing, but you shifted your leg a little, pushing even more into his touch under the table. Your movement just signaled your silent agreement to him that tonight would be a perfect night to be throwing clothes on the floor as soon as you got back to your shared room at the mansion.

It’d been a long, tiring week after all. Helping teach classes during the day and training your ass off in the danger room every night, you didn’t think it was unreasonable to cut loose a bit now.

Even Colossus was chuckling a little at last, but the big guy was always softest around Kitty. You in particular had been one of her biggest supporters when she’d first confessed her attraction towards him. You’d noticed his bashfulness with her as well, and all the little glances he’d given her long before she’d ever worked up the courage to ask him out.

But that seemed so long ago now, it was hard to really remember a time when they weren’t together. Almost as long as you and Peter really.

You glanced up as the waiter came back by to check on you all, saying your food would be out in a few more minutes and asking if anyone needed more drinks.

“Oh gosh, we’re really running up the tab right?” Kitty smiled.

You could see the little bit of relief in Colossus’ expression as she waved the waiter off though, her current wine glass still nearly full. “I’m fine for now, thank you.”

Peter glanced at you and you nodded as well. A buzz was fine, but you didn’t want to be climbing the mansion stairs full on drunk tonight. “I’m good.”

As the waiter left, your conversation got a little more subdued. You leaned into Peter somewhat, hip to hip in the booth as he put his arm around your waist.

Kitty was now talking about a movie she thought you should all go see next weekend if you could. You were just in the process of agreeing as you’d wanted to see it too, when Colossus suddenly went stock still, a look of real surprise on his face.

Kitty evidently noticed as soon as you did, you both staring up at him in unison.

“Do not turn around,” He instructed to you and Peter, eyes locked on something behind you.

Of course when told to do one thing, it would take everything in Peter’s willpower to not do the opposite. But to his credit he actually did hesitate. “Do we need to be dodging something? I mean, I can move us if I need to, man. You just gotta let me know.” Peter stated.

“I don’t think he’s seen us yet. Please do not draw attention.” Colossus responded, still frustratingly vague to the rest of you.

But he hadn’t metaled up yet, his skin still entirely human looking. So on the plus side, it couldn’t be someone he thought an immediate physical threat.

You glanced to Kitty for some hope of explanation as she was seated beside Colossus and facing the same direction. But she was too short in comparison to him, and couldn’t see all the way across the booth dividers as easily as he could. “Well who is it?” Kitty demanded quietly.

But you heard an impatient voice carry over clearly from the nearby restaurant entrance.

“Look, you know he’s here. I know he’s here. Don’t make me leave you guys a bad Yelp review. I will totally Karen that shit up. I’m just here for him.” A pause. “...And some of the cannolis. God, I love those things. You went a little scarce on the filling last time though. Don’t make me add that to the Yelp review.”

You heard the hostess stutter, fear evidently building. “Sir, firearms are not allowed in this restaurant. The owner, he, I...I can’t.”

There was a loud sigh from the man, the distinct sound of a gun cocking, and then all hell broke loose.

“WADE!” Colossus screamed, your entire table flipping as he stood up, metal now encasing him in this even larger form.

Abruptly you were now standing back by the entrance yourself. Peter had one arm around you, and the other around Kitty as he let you both go just as instantly, having just brought you there before he disappeared again.

That little flare up of vertigo from the speed and sudden stop didn’t mix well with the alcohol, and she and you both stood there another moment, queasy as Peter appeared again with an armful of guns.

It would have been comical as he clearly had no idea where to put them now, but everyone else that had still been in the restaurant was already screaming and running for the doors in a panic.

The owner of the multiple guns couldn’t care less about the crowd however, only turning his full focus to the lot of you then in exasperation.

“Oh my God, you anti second amendment, mother fuckers. I’m in the middle of a job here!”

“You can’t just point guns at innocent people, Wade! We have talked about this many times!” Colossus retorted, all seven foot of him now standing over Deadpool with paternal like annoyance.

“For fuck’s sake, it’s called a threat. I wasn’t going to kill her you overprotective, asshat! Now Giovanni is probably holed up in some pussy ass panic room, or he’s already ghosted me out the back door! And yes, I know that is such a stereotypical mob boss name and totally sounds like the Pokemon villain. Fuck him and his always trying to take Pikachu! He had a talking cat the whole time who just wanted his love, but no, got to have the electric rat. Fuck!”

“Language, Wade!” Colossus scolded. “There is still a child present!”

And honestly in all this insanity, that was the first time you actually noticed Russell also still standing there. Everyone else in the room had now fled out into the street.

“I’m fucking fourteen,” The boy replied defiantly. “And yeah, we were working!”

“Daddy and angrier metal daddy are just talking, hon.” Deadpool commented, waving a hand.

There was a small gust of air beside you and you looked to Peter knowingly. Wade’s guns were now all on a table, though intentionally still distant from your current position. “So I just made a couple laps.” Peter spoke up. “The cops are already coming, and there’s still a bunch of guys in the basement. They were opening some crates, probably getting weapons? I didn’t know if we were taking them out yet though. I didn’t touch anything. But is Giovanni like a big dude with gold rings and all?”

“I’m telling you besides the drug and human trafficking, it’s practically more criminal how much he sets back Italian-American stereotypes. They are an honest, manicotti making people goddamn it.” Deadpool answered.

You really were starting to regret the amount of drinks you’d had. If you’d known tonight was going to be anything like this, you would have gladly stuck to water. Your head was already trying to throb a little as you finally spoke. “So, does this guy actually have warrants out on him? If the cops come, they’re all going to end up shooting each other most likely. Can we just defuse this by giving him up to them?”

“I would say we assist to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, if that is the case, yes. I’m sure the Professor would prefer that.” Colossus agreed.

“Freaking goody two shoes, all of you.” Wade sighed. “But he has to get arrested or dead okay? I don’t get paid otherwise.” He paused though, then looking back up to Colossus before suddenly elbowing him. As if he’d even really feel that. “And hello rudeness, are you not going to introduce me to your little girls night out club here before we go bust some heads in a gratuitous X-Force/X-Men hotties crossover?”

“X-Force?” Kitty asked, sounding as already over this as could be.

“Well, we are a little empty on the roster at the moment. Some...unfortunate parachuting incidents. Wind advisory that day. You know how it goes.” Deadpool shrugged.

By her expression, no. She did not know how it went.

But the sooner you started, the sooner this could be over. Colossus motioned to each of you in turn, “Peter, (Y/N), and Kitty. These are my teammates and friends.” He nodded back to Deadpool, “And this is Wade.” And then to the boy. “And Russell.”

Of course you already knew who they both were. It’d been a bit of a scandal really, with the whole Essex House fiasco and the deaths that had occurred there. Fair or not, a lot of the blame had ended up on Juggernaut the second time around though you thought. Which is why Charles hadn’t had to deal with too much bad press in the aftermath.

You could not let this become another Essex House situation for the X-Men though. You were about to speak up about heading to the basement together and Deadpool staying out of your way so you all could neutralize everyone without any fatal hits, when he gasped dramatically, making you freeze again.

“Kitty!? Like an actual girl named Kitty? Oh my God, this whole time I thought you were his cat!” He hit his own leg, laughing. “I’m thinking, holy shit this guy loves his goddamn cat, but who am I to judge you know? I had a dog named Mr. Shuggums. Cutest little fucker.” He took a breath. “I miss him.”

“Wade.” Colossus groaned. “We do not have all night.”

Okay, so there was still something sweet about Colossus gushing about his girlfriend even to this manic mercenary. But no kidding, this show really needed to get on the road here.

“Guys, why don’t we just let Peter disarm them all, Colossus, you grab Giovanni, and Kitty and I deal with anyone who still resists? No one has to get hurt, and then it’s all done, easy.”

“And then we go find somewhere else to eat. Killing me here. I wanted that damn calzone and tiramisu.” Peter sighed, pulling his goggles back down over his eyes again. “More guns coming up.”

He disappeared at once, but when he didn’t return immediately as you were so accustomed to, you and Kitty exchanged a nervous look.

And after only another few seconds, your instincts told you something had definitely gone wrong.

“Is the basement directly beneath us?” You asked Deadpool sharply, already reaching out a hand to Kitty. Your adrenaline was starting, all good feelings gone as it was now time to act.

But you’d worked together long enough now, you didn’t have to explain your plan to her or Colossus.

Yet when the previously mouthy merc had no instant response, just staring at you in thought, it was clear he hadn’t done any recon beforehand at all. He’d literally just walked in here and expected everything to work out.

“Perfect.” Kitty said sarcastically, glancing quickly to Colossus as she took your hand. “You’re our backup, dear, in case our vertical entrance doesn’t work out. Come find us.”

“Always.” He said, already turning, his weight shaking the floor as he ran to look for any stairway downward while you and Kitty dropped straight through the floor.

It was surely a risk of its own to use her phasing ability so blindly as this. You could end up in a too small crawlspace, in underground piping, a sewer system, anything really. She’d make sure not to go solid until it was safe, as to not impale or bury you alive of course. But if Peter were in trouble, there was no time to waste by ending up at a dead end and having to go back up and try again.

You’d held your breath, as there was no way for you to process oxygen either as your lungs and every other part of you shifted through the other matter. It was darkness and insulation, pipes, and conduit that flashed by at first. But in the fractions of seconds that it took to fall, you had already powered up. The white light of your energy field overtaking your body, shielding you both as you did fall into a larger open area.

It was even darker than the restaurant above, all concrete and dampness. The glow from your body was the brightest thing there as much more men than you’d expected all turned in surprise. You saw the glint of multiple gun barrels now, but the thing you wanted to see most was Peter’s silver hair as you’d scanned the area for him instantly.

There was a stairwell in the distance. He was laying near the bottom of it. But you had no time to be shocked or afraid, only anger swelled as you released Kitty’s hand, making you solid again. “I’ll get him.” Was all you said. Letting her know to protect herself as you flew to him. Bullets couldn’t hurt her if she was ready for them. But Peter would be defenseless without one of you now, and by means of your power of flight you were the faster of you and her.

The man closest to Peter had a different kind of gun though you realized. Something you didn’t recognize at all as he aimed at you. You splayed your palms to create an energy shield in front of you as he pulled the trigger.

It didn’t make a sound though. But everything around you instantly distorted as pain exploded through you. You saw five or six of him now, as your feet hit the ground, unable to concentrate enough to fly then. But even as you stumbled, realizing your shielding wasn’t fully stopping whatever that weapon was doing, you were still able to expand your shield rapidly, hitting the man with the force of a car in your pain and sending him flying into a nearby wall, the weapon clattering to the ground lightly against his now limp body.

But you still felt like you were going to puke.

“Kill them you idiots!” Someone screamed.

You dropped yourself, laying over Peter just as quickly, grateful to feel him breathing as you focused through the pain to extend a shield around you both as the gunfire started.

“Bitch!” Another man yelled as Kitty just walked unharmed through all the flying bullets towards you.

“Shadowcat actually,” She said, skilled enough in her powers to choose what was solid and what wasn’t. Just the outside of her fist being all she needed to crush his nose in one punch with a squirt of blood, and only the end of her foot used as she swept her leg after to knock his own right out from under him.

Even among your own team, sometimes people could forget that that petite Jewish girl was about as skilled a martial artist as anyone could be.

“Babe?” You heard against your ear though, glancing back down to Peter. There was real relief even in the chaos as you saw him smile up at you.

He talked back against your ear in the noise as Kitty continued to utterly wreck the guys around you. “I fucked up a little, right? That gun...they already had it going, aimed at the door when I came back, a trap...I think I hit every stair on the way down...I still see like three of you right now.”

“Ditto.” You breathed.

And then there was another even louder noise as the remnants of a door also came flying down the stairs. Colossus barreled in behind it like a stampeding elephant, Deadpool right behind him as they leapt over the both of you and joined the fray.

“We found the basement!” Deadpool announced gleefully, swords swinging. “Don’t think they’d even locked the door back actually, but fuck if big Russki doesn’t love a dramatic entrance!”

For a moment you thought all your words about at least trying not to kill had been for nothing, thinking Deadpool was going to chop these men into literal pieces. But even as blood sprayed left and right, you realized he was just cutting tendons. The men then unable to hold their guns, unable to stand at all as he crippled each he reached in succession.

It was still completely horrific, but hell, how much could you really ask for from someone like him? Especially when you yourself had slammed that one man into a concrete wall as if he were a ragdoll. You glanced over anxiously for a moment, glad to see him shifting a little, but still crumpled exactly where you’d thrown him. He was alive, a small relief at least.

——————————

Obviously the other gunmen hadn’t had a prayer either though once you’d all been down there together.

Colossus already had a still cursing Giovanni slung over one shoulder as you were now helping Peter back up and trying not to step in all the blood as you all walked over to Kitty.

“What a mess...very interesting weapon though,” She spoke of that odd gun that’d been used on you and Peter, it now in her hands as she turned it one way and then another examining it. “I’m bringing this back with us. The police don’t need anything like this. Hank and I can figure out how it works. And how to defend against it hopefully before we run into another one of these out in the field.”

“It seems this Giovanni was more a threat than expected,” Colossus said, giving the still squirming man an unhappy look, before looking back to you all. “Are you alright, Peter?”

“I’m still hungry.” Peter grumbled, an arm over your shoulder to still help stabilize him as his other hand went to his head as if it were pounding. He also had some bruising starting on his face, no doubt from his tumble down the stairs. “I wouldn’t have drank so damn much if I’d known we weren’t going to eat...”

With the speed of his metabolism, that alcohol likely was hitting him pretty hard now on his already empty stomach.

“We should turn this guy over and get out of here.” You agreed. Though you didn’t feel so hot yourself. Still a little nauseous from whatever that weapon did to your senses. But at least you weren’t seeing triple of everything anymore.

“Hold it, girl scouts!” Deadpool piped up, chipper as ever as he grabbed something at Giovanni’s neck before any of you could think to stop him.

The man choked just a moment though, before a piece of metal snapped off into Wade’s hands. It was a necklace, with a symbol of some sort. You saw just a glimpse of it before Deadpool pocketed it. “No proof of finishing the job, no payday for DP. No payday, then no liquor, no coke, no hookers. Am I right?”

It was too difficult to tell when if ever he was serious, and you all chose to ignore his comment, starting back up the stairs. The odd sounds of bullet fragments falling back down the stairwell caught Peter’s attention though as he gave a grossed out look to Wade for a moment.

The now impact deformed bullets were starting to work themselves back out of all the bloody holes in Deadpool’s costume. You knew where you’d seen that before of course, but Peter was the only one that actually said it aloud.

“Damn, you and Logan would be a pair.”

There was a pause, and you could swear even with the mask, you thought you saw Wade’s cheekbones move in a way that signaled he was outright grinning from ear to ear. “At least someone gets it. He still won’t return my calls though. Such a diva lately.”

Once you did get to the top of the stairs, you only found a very agitated Russell standing there, Wade’s guns in his arms. “You took long enough, the cops are outside you know. I’m not going back to jail for you!”

“Cool your tater tots, kid.” Deadpool responded lazily, in no hurry, but grabbing the weapons back to holster them all regardless.

“I could have finished this faster! I would have fried their asses!” Russell argued.

“You would have been shot. Fire does not stop bullets.” Colossus only answered matter of factly.

Russell made a face, but Wade cut him off before he could say any more.

“Now now, listen to metal daddy. No sass. And actually, I think there’s something we should talk about, champ. X-Force is way more badass and all, but we don’t exactly have a training and junior member tier yet. Maybe later. You might want to think about riding home with these guys and checking their setup out. I don’t have any powers myself to relate to you like that, except me being very shootable, devastatingly charming, sexy, smart, and a competitive level Skee-Ball player...”

Deadpool sighed, continuing. “But these guys have a Danger Room. Which is totally not a sex dungeon, yeah I was bummed about that too. But they could let you unleash that school shooter level teenage angst and burn all the shit you wanted until you really figure out your powers.”

Russel bristled. “I’m not a school shooter you prick! And you always said the X-Men were neutered dweebs and-”

Wade coughed loudly, ushering Russell forward suddenly as you all continued to walk. “Hah, kids. Such darlings. Mishear everything don’t they?”

Colossus only answered without offense though. “The offer is still open, Russell. Though you have said no before. The Professor would never turn down a young mutant in need.”

It was Peter who surprised you a little, a smirk on his face as he contributed. “Freaking sweet house too, man. Xavier’s loaded. Big screen TV, a pool, basketball court, your own room, supersonic jet. Bunch of cute girls as well, or cute boys, you know whatever you’re into.”

“I’m not gay.” Russell huffed, but actually looked to be listening now as he didn’t immediately spit back with a sarcastic retort.

Though you gave Peter a weird look and he just grinned. “What? I stayed for you didn’t I, babe? Just saying. I wasn’t exactly on board with the whole team thing before that either. I know where he’s coming from is all.”

“It’s up to you, Russell.” Kitty said more diplomatically, before returning to the matter at hand. “We’re parked at that parking garage two blocks south. Everyone meet back there, Colossus and I will hand this guy over to the cops out front. The rest of you, I’m sure there’s got to be some emergency exit you can sneak out of. Probably better to split up actually. Less attention.”

—————————

Just as Kitty had suggested, Deadpool and Russell went out one way, and you and Peter another. You came out onto another street behind the restaurant. And you’d just finally started to relax again, Peter taking your hand in his own and walking away like an honest to God normal couple for once, just out on the town together before you noticed an oddly placed white van with distinct lettering on it.

Peter saw it too just as the light from a camera hit you both.

“Hell,” You breathed.

“Want to run?” He asked seriously.

“Too late, they’d just film us ditching, and say we had something to hide.”

Your headache was returning in full force you thought as you steeled yourself, seeing the reporter now in a full sprint towards you.

“It’s Quicksilver! And (your codename)! The X-Men are here!” A woman shouted.

As you walked closer to the news van, the camera flashes only increased. It looked like a small group of paparazzi had also camped out here, hoping for this exact result. How did word travel so damn fast?

“Marcia Fletcher, WAFN nightly news!” She introduced herself at once, her camera man there just as quickly, huffing a little from the run as he got you both in focus.

You could see the lights on on his camera as she shoved her microphone in front of you and Peter. “You’re on live coverage of the Ruffiano’s restaurant shootings with WAFN. Is it true that Giovani Marcello was apprehended here tonight by the X-Men? And how did you know he was here when he’s been on Interpol’s most wanted list for four years?”

You knew without looking at him that Peter was happily deferring the speaking role to you now as you tried not to look rattled. You attempted to think of what Charles would and wouldn’t want you to say, even with the pain in your head and lingering nausea. “We didn’t know who was here. We were in the area and saw people running and went to help, that’s all.” You lied.

“But the reports of gunshots, witnesses also said Deadpool had drawn a gun on a restaurant employee and Colossus was seen inside. Is Deadpool now affiliated with the X-Men again? Did he shoot anyone?”

“Deadpool is not affiliated with the X-Men. Colossus was here tonight, but he only would have been defending anyone he thought in danger. Deadpool did not shoot anyone.” You tried to keep to short truths that time.

“But then why was Deadpool there? Should people really believe it would be a coincidence that the X-Men and Deadpool would be at the same incidence at one time if not working together?”

“Well you’re here aren’t you? Are you affiliated with us?” You replied before you could stop yourself, though still restraining the annoyance you really wanted to put into that statement. “Trouble attracts a crowd.”

Peter made a sound, a restrained laugh you knew. But before the reporter could blurt out another question, one of the now growing number of paparazzi called out, “(Your codename), hey look here! Is it true you and Quicksilver are still dating!?”

You knew better than to be baited, humoring any of them just made it worse. They were like piranhas. But Peter couldn’t help it, turning to look as so many cameras flashed. His arm slid around you protectively. “Why wouldn’t we be, dude?” He called back.

“Are you saying the photos of (your codename) and Gambit were before you two reconciling?”

It took every ounce of your self control to not respond, but oh God did you want to. It was the mission in Tanzania. You knew it. You, Storm, and Gambit. Peter had stayed in the U.S. for that one as it’d been the holidays and his Mom had wanted both he and Wanda over for some time together.

After the mission was over, the three of you had ended up on one of the beautiful Tanzanian beaches for a single day. Just a single day to yourselves.

You’d had the audacity to wear a revealing bathing suit though and you and Remy had been photographed together, him shirtless of course because it was a goddamn beach. And laughing and smiling because, surprise, you were friends! And they’d cropped Ororo out in all the closeups for complete loss of context.

It’d been a thing in some of the tabloids for a while, but you really thought that had finally blown over. Of course if anyone asked Remy, he liked to play coy on the whole subject to keep up his God’s gift to all men and women sex symbol status.

“Peter, let’s just go,” You whispered in his ear, sure anything else said would only make things worse.

But you could read him all too well, and when he turned his face to look back at you, you already knew what he was going to do. You didn’t try to stop him, because never would you humiliate him on live television with any type of rejection, but oh, you would never live this one down. Never.

He kissed you hard. And there was nothing fake about it, honestly the kind of kiss usually reserved for your bedroom as you felt heat rising up in you. The camera flashes clicking over and over as you could still taste the alcohol he’d drank before.

When he finally released you again, you gasped a little. He gave the photographers a ‘fuck you’ look, before speaking just to you. “Now we can go.”

“Fly or run?” You breathed.

“Fly please. I’m still about half out of it.” He admitted.

You powered up to some surprised and excited sounds from the crowd. Your whole body glowing white again in the energy you emitted.

“Wait, aren’t you going to stay and talk to the police!?” The reporter shouted.

“They know where to find us if they need us.” You answered, extending your energy field around Peter, before you took off vertically, making sure to get sideways over the rooftops as soon as you could though to breakup their camera angles and finally give you privacy again at last.

You landed gently atop the parking garage only a few moments later, letting him go again as you powered back down.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, just taking your hand again though.

“No.” You said truthfully. “But, I have no idea what we’ve really just done. We still have to go home...home where the Professor always watches the 10:00 news with his late night tea.”

Peter sighed, only half joking. “We could always go stay with my Mom for a while?”

You just moved in closer, pulling him against you as you laid your head on his shoulder. “We’ll survive, babe. Somehow we always do.”

“I think that says more about you than me though. Pretty sure I’d be face down in a ditch somewhere already if it weren’t for you.”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck then before raising your head back up to kiss him once more. Much softer this time, and even longer than his jealous little display a few minutes ago.

He made one of his little noises of contentment, hands sliding down to squeeze your butt through the thin pants you were wearing. As he pulled your hips tighter against him, he broke the kiss enough to speak regretfully. “I really was hoping to get lucky tonight...”

“Same.” You smiled. It had been a while. Mostly from you both being so tired by the time you finally got in bed. Passing out on each other had more been the norm the past couple weeks. “We get some food in you, and see where things go?”

“Gross! Get a room!”

You startled at the sudden shouting, having wholly thought yourselves alone up here in the moonlight.

Peter rolled his eyes, yelling back at Russell, “Kid, we have one! And we’d already be back there by now if it wasn’t for your little mafia hunting shenanigans!”

You looked over to see Deadpool and Russell both standing in the doorway to the parking garage stairs.

Wade whistled, leaning back against the doorframe. “Way to take down that Marcia Fletcher a notch! I always found her too uppity to be honest. I think she’s still butt hurt that they didn’t give her the lead anchor spot when Carl Sanderson moved to the early bird morning show. Tanya Meyer on the 5:00 news though, that’s my girl.”

You blinked. “How...how do you know-” It was literally minutes ago, it would have taken them just this long to walk here.

Deadpool lifted up his cell phone. “Facebook live, bitches. Don’t you follow WAFN? The recipes they post from Saturday morning cooking with Pat are always delish.” He looked back down at the phone though, happily reading. “Hah! Peggy Fredrickson from Brewster, New York thinks Marcia’s contouring and drawn on eyebrows are getting worse. Fire your makeup person, Marcia.” He tapped something on the screen. “Like comment! Oh, and Michael Morris from Ridgefield says who wouldn’t do Remy LeBeau. Damn, Michael, all out and proud on main.”

Peter let go of you, taking an annoyed breath. But then looking back to you. “Please let me at least prank Remy, something, anything.”

“But he didn’t do anything.” You replied, though only more stressed now that this was already blowing up on social media.

“Exactly! He should have at least denied it! But no, Mr. cool Cajun can’t admit that you’d actually choose me over him.”

“Hey now, I think you’re looking at this the wrong way, Quickie.” Deadpool interjected. “There’s always the ménage à trois option. I mean he’s French right? And Michael from Ridgefield is just spitting truth. Who wouldn’t want to do Remy LeBeau? He could shuffle my cards anytime.”

“You guys are so fucking weird.” Russell groaned. “Can we go find your damn car now?”

But you didn’t move yet, still looking fully at Peter. “Wade’s just trying to get under your skin. We all know how Remy is. He’d flirt with a piece of cardboard if it suited him. It doesn’t mean anything to him.” You recognized that Gambit was physically attractive of course, you had eyes too after all. But that was the only extent of it. You loved Peter. Not to mention you wouldn’t at all want to get on Rogue’s bad side. She and Gambit were tumultuous enough without someone else being added to the mix.

“This is adorable, really. But I did bring ‘good job team for sending a little girl selling, gentrification funding, pencil dick mob boss to butt fucking federal prison’ cannolis. Want some?” Deadpool offered, lifting up a large takeout box you somehow hadn’t noticed before.

Peter’s shoulders dropped a little, still heavily annoyed though eyeing the box. “So does this mean you’re coming back with us too?”

Wade shrugged, “The kid doesn’t know you guys. What kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t at least go and make sure he actually wanted to stay in your little mutant commune before I ditch him there?”

“You aren’t my damned dad.” Russell said, though almost sounding too tired to argue further at this point. He reached up, taking a cannoli from the box and biting into it as he started to walk back down the stairwell. “What floor is the car on?”

“Just one down from here, you already passed it. Black SUV,” you answered. Colossus and Kitty must not have been here yet if Wade and Russell had made it all the way to the top deck without finding them.

Peter grabbed your hand again, walking with you to the doorway as he grabbed three cannolis out the box begrudgingly with his other hand. He passed one off to you, before biting into the other two in quick succession.

And you only had a moment to see all the thick scarring under Wade’s mask as he lifted it just enough to start eating one himself, before turning to follow you both out and down the stairwell.

———————————

(Concluded in Part 2 here)

172 notes · View notes

give-grian-rights · 3 years

Text

HERMITCRAFT 8 LIVEBLOGGING

fifteen hermits worth of liveblogging. i am losing my mind. LONG POST AHEAD.

JOE HILLS (First HC8 Video)

Mumbo did the speech. he forgot everything he was supposed to say <3

Pearl and Gemini were just .in a pit . having stuff thrown onto them

Every Hermit is staying on the same continent !!

FIRST DEATHS VERY QUICKLY, Iron Golems took out Tango and Etho (maybe more?)

Joe seems to be the only one looting the chests

Evil Jevin !!

Evil Xisuma appearance on Jevin’s 60 second video!

Pearl has something planned for an “archeticual wonder” for a resupply area upon death?

Stress, Xisuma and Joe are capturing villagers and starting up a resupply debut.

Bdubs is killed by Cleo and is now OUT FOR BLOOD

First death counts- Etho, Tango, Bdubs, Cleo?

Cleo was killed by Keralis

Joe has now supplied Cleo with weapons and food . She left but not before saying “Time to kill BDubs again!”

Gemini was killed by Bdubs! They both died and are now at spawn.

Pearl was killed by Cleo

Pearl is planning a respawn inn !!

Cleo was killed by Iskall

Cleo was killed by Pearl

False, Stress, and Gemini team up??? AA!!! they brought a delivery of supplies to Joe <3

i wish i knew what was happening on that end .

APPARENTLY XISUMA IS ONTO MAKING THE SECOND VILLAGER BREEDER ALREADY ??

Iskall is the first with Diamonds??

Breathe in that ash !

WAIT IS TANGOS EYES LIKE THAT RN BECAUSE HES TEAMED WITH KERALIS AND BDUBS ???

KERALIS, BDUBS, AND TANGO TRIED TO DO A SHAKEDOWN ON JOE. HE TRIED TO DROP LAVA, GOT HIMSELF ONTO TWO HEARTS BECAUSE HE PLACED IT ON HIMSELF, AND IS NOW SWIMMING OUT INTO THE SWAMP

the big eyed trio are now off to shake down Gemini

Joe fell in Lava in the Nether

Joe Death To Lava Two: Electric Boogaloo

Joe drowned trying to kill a glowsquid

WATCH JOE’S VIDEO OH MY GOD SEAN HILLS RECAP RAP??? MY BELOVED????? i am gonna be streaming this unironically later LIKE OH MY GOD THIS SLAPS. ALSO THE CREDITS AT TEH END IS HILARIOUS

Zedaph Episode Recap

Zed gave us a recap of the continent every Hermit will be living on !!

Wouldn’t recommend Zedaph as the first video for the season, he skips the intro/speech but it’s Zedaph and hes making it fun!! Lots of nice editing :)

~SCIENCE TIME !~

Zedaph.. why is your starter base made out of concrete ?

There are no sheeps whatsoever on his mountain

Hes calling his lab an icecream sandwich..yeah i see it

Zed tried to make a portal underater...f

Scar died to a creeper </3

Zedaphs base is gonna be tracking how long hes there/someones loading the chunk!

XISUMA LIVE BLOGGING

A cool cinema scene of him becoming an axolotl!! <3

NOW I CAN SEE IT, GRIAN WAS THE FIRST DEATH!! Death by Iron Golem!!

XIsuma’s baseplans need over 45 THOUSAND BLOCKS TO BE PLACED

He’s also planning on making a shulkershell farm!!

i’m not gonna lie ! talking axolotl X is horrifying ! thanks !

Day one Villager Breeder... chaos.

Xisuma Derp! looked straight at a buncha wool and said how badly he needed beds and then walked away

THE GIRLS CAME OVER AND CONVINCED HIM HE NEEDS TO MOVE THE DESIGN OVER MY FIVE BLOCKS FOR SWAMP VILLAGERS..

THE GIRLS ARE JUST LAUGHING AT HIM AND HIS VILLAGER TROUBLES

day one and Xisuma has got his axolotl!!

Very pretty starterbase!!

XB’s

..I’m not gonna lie theres not much to say!! He’s very calm :) he says hes going into it without a plan, and htat last season was the only time he had any thought of what he was gonna do.

He made a real nice starter house and thats about it!

Cleo’s

Bdubs: “She ain’t gonna hurt me!! i’m invincible, babey!”

Cleo learnt that BDubs will never hurt her even if she deserves it . I am starting to realize why she kills him

SHE DECIDED SHES GONNA BE A PROPER CHAOS GREMLIN THIS SEASON...

AISDJASID CLEO GOT PAID TO KILL BDUBS?? HDUIAIHSI SCAR WHY

“Alright I found my mission for the season! Murder.”

Cleo, Mumbo, Grian, and Scar are all holed up in a cave together!

..Scar died from a skeleton !

Cleo has now split from Grian and Mumbo! Scar is missing in action

CLEO FOUND A GOAT

SHES KILLING THE GOAT???

she got a HORSE <3 and Joe gave her a saddle! I think her name is..Widget?

She LOVES the candles for shamboo n waterbottles and bits n bobs for her armorstands!!

Got her Armorstand stickgod book <3

Geminitay POV

NEW HERMIT NEW HERMIT NEW HERMIT!!

She has a LOVELY voice!!

The pov of her in a hole . being surrrounded . is kinda hilarious

It might’ve been Etho who was first death?? I GENUIENLY CANNOT TELL BECAUSE OF EDITING

All the murder was just for heads!

Seriously her voice is. wow

WE LOVE A QUEEN WHO KNOWS HOW TO CRAFT A SHIELD WITHOUT USING THE GUIDE <3

False, Gemini, and Stress are on the great journey for MOSS !

Gem just blew their minds with the moss.

TANGO KERALIS AND BDUBS ARE BACK Keralis: “Show the diamonds show the diamonds show the diamonds!” Gem: “Keralis. This is not how you make friends.”

The boys suecessfully recieved a diamond each

Etho n Iskall are travelling together!! You dont see those two together often

Etho got a glowsquid head!!

Gem: “Etho doesn’t share, is what i’m learning..?”

Etho hooked her with a fishing rod and said she has to do what he said .

In order to get the diamonds, Tango, Keralis, and BDubs placed down a sign saying “Gem is Great!” and Gem used a glow inksack on it.

Etho: “So..What is this? Do you have an ego, or this a motivational thing, or..?” He said, while laughing

Iskall: “I think its really funny that you have set your base up in the middle of a birch forest.” Gem: “I love birch forests! Do you not like my birch forest? Iskall: “I love it, yeah.” Gem: “This is the best biome in the game, Iskall.” Iskall: “Mmmm..” Etho: “I’m pretty sure I heard Iskall talking earlier that like, of all the biomes in the game, there was one he hated more than anything. Gem: “Oh really? And what was that one?” Iskall: “..Taiga.” Gem: “Taiga.. That’s true, thats a good one, thats a good one.” Iskall: “Don’t like Taiga.” Gem: “Mhm.” Etho: “Which one do you hate more than anyone?” Iskall: “..Diorite fields. Thats a bad one.” Etho: “Yeah thats a bad one.” Gem: “Didn’t know about that one. Well make sure to avoid’em. Birch forests are really good.” Iskall: “I’m a big fan of birch forests.” Gem: “Yeah, me too, me too. I’m glad we’re on the same page :) This is so beautiful! All the white and- and the like zebra stripes! is fantastic.” Iskall: “I..Um.. Yes.”

OH SHE’S CANADIAN,, ETHO HAS A FRIEND /j

She’s still in college :O SHE’S A SCIENTIST?? SHES WORKING AT A HOSPITAL?? POG!!

She accidentally found an enchanted golden apple in a mineshaft!! she thinks its the first she ever found in survival!!

She has a cow, sheep, and a few crop farms set up!! Her starter house has INTERRIOR!

SHE CHANGED HER SKIN AND ITS SO PRETTY AND HAS OVERALL AND I LOVE IT!!

shes doing a cottage core inspired base!

WOAHH!!! SHE MADE HTE MOST GOREGOUS CUSTOM TREE I’VE EVER SEEN ??

BDUBS IS HERE and he is so so so impressed by the tree ?!

also hes carrying a clock.. :(

He’s here with a present!

HE BROUGHT BAMBOO!

she thinks its so funny that he stops conversations to sleep AOIDHFEAUI\

SCARS

WE GOT A TRANSITION SCENE!! the canonical reason for the bed in his old village always being occupied is because underneath it, was his wizard portal!

Bdubs: “It’s a new season! You’re the little guy now!”

They are all very amused by that ^

they’re rubbing the fleece of bdubs jacket .

Bdubs: “Have a nice rub :)” PLEASEAHSIOJDIUASLDHIASDA

His starter base is gonna be a wagon and he wants the end game to be a bioshock esque skyscraper!

he confused a horse for a player . flashback to iskall thinking mumbo was a mob

PEOPLE THINK MUMBO DOESNT HAVE PANTS ON.... </3

Scar, Mumbo, and Grian.. have NO braincells. at all. THey just placed a crafting table with a boat on top with a bed on top with a boat on top .

this is what BROS FOR LIFE looks like.

BOATEM POLE !

SCAR IS STUCK UNDERGROUND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT IRL AND HAS NO PICKAXE..

AND HE DIED TO A CREEPER .

it seems like Grian, Mumbo, and Scar are working together !!!! HOLY SHIT !!

THERES SO SO SO MANY FARMS???????

he died several times trying to catch a skeleton with a sword

FIRST CHEST MONSTER OF THE SEASON <3

SCAR JSUT TOLD BDUBS HE LOOKS LIKE OSCAR THE CROUCH... BDUBS CANNOT EVEN ARGUE

OH NO.... GRIAN WENT AFK IN A HOLE . WITHOUT A HELMET .

THEY PUT A GLOWSQUID HEAD ON HIM

OH MY GOD MUMBO MADE A NOTEBLOCK SONG?? AJUDA

SCARS BUILTING IS SO SO SOOS GOREGOUS SERIOUSLY GO WATCH THE VIDEO OH MY GOD ITS HUGE

its a giant ass house boat wagon . its pulled by a llama . that killed him . so now its trapped, pulling hte agon, forever

Grian: “..Thats a very big house, for a very little hat.”

GRIANS SUPER SPECIAL EGG??

SCAR PUNCHED IT..

they really came out here . and killed the egg already.

Scar: “..I touched the thing”

TANGO POV

We see the three big eyed boys forming <3 they interrupted Tangos intro

THEY’RE BULLYING HIM ABOUT HAVING SMALL EYES AHIDUIASUHDWIS

HE TRIED TO CALL THE TRIO TEAM BUG EYE... THE OTHERS ARE VERY OFFENDED

they found an axolotl and Bdubs was TERRIFIED just screaming “WHAT IS THAT YELLOW THING?!”

BDUBS IS ATTACKING IT ???

okay nope Bdubs caught one and Tango lost it

Bdubs is naming his axolotl Idiot

AMAZING HOUSE. WHY IS TANGO SO GOOD AT BUILDING AND REDSTONE??

Impulse POV

MUMBO TRIED TO PLACE DOWN A BERRY BUSH TO HURT IMPULSE . HE FORGOT HOW BUSHES WORK..

I DIDNT EVEN NOTICE THAT IMPULSE WAS IN THE BOATEM POLE

so it looks like those four are hteo nes who grouped up together

PEARL BROKE THE CONSTITUION SHE GOT IN THE WRONG BOAT SMH

THIS IS SEASON EIGHT! FIVE BROS !

So its gonna be about five people in the same area!!

YOO!! Fantasy build for Impulse!!

G gave Impulse a spyglass, they had a fun moment of zooming in on eachothers face and complimenting eachother IHAUDIHAW

Grian and Impulse worked on an xp farm!

ASHDUIWAHISD GRIAN JUST LOGGED ON INFRONT OF HIM

a pillager stole his boat . not just any pillager . the one with a banner. </3

he has to live with Mumbo tuning a song .. </3 haha

Mumbo POV

it took fifteen seconds until Grian ran in during Mumbos intro

CONFIRMED? GRIAN WAS FIRST DEATH?

SECOND PERSON TO THINK MUMBOS PANTS ARE SKIN COLOR. GRIAN..

Grian: “Can you..Briefly explain why you’re just wearing a hawaiian shirt?” Mumbo: “Uh- what do you mean ‘just wearing a hawaiin shirt? I have shorts on as-well, dude”

FOLLOWED BY

Mumbo: “Can you explain why you’re wearing a red jumper?” Grian: “You know- you know i was born with this!”

MUMBO AND GRIAN STOLE THE BOAT LOOT FROM RENDOC

I THINK RENDOC JUST STOLE THE DIAMOND MUMBO THREW??

Grian: “Is that Scar?” Mumbo: “I can’t see past your giant waffle!”

DSFSDFJIOA they did an edit where they placed down a boat, both Mumbo and Grian got in, they made noises and then bopped up on top of the ravine they were in <3

THEY HAVE NO BRAINCELL THEY JUST PLACED DOWN A BENCH AND SAID “THIS IS THE MARK OF OUR VILLAGE!” and then placed a torch and a boat and a bed and aANOTHER BED..

..Mumbo is trying to be a pacifist this season!

Grian’s taunting him with beheaded things

And obviously part of being pacifist means he’s gonna be vegetarian in minecraft!

..he cannot use monster farms because pacifisim..

Mumbo was in the middle of reading the magical Timmy shack that Tango made (did i remember to mention that? who knows) and IN THE MIDDLE OF GETTING TO THE PART ABOUT IF YOU REMOVE STUFF FROM THE CHEST, NOTHING WILL BE ADDED IN IT AGAIN. Grian opened the chest . Mumbo SHOUTED HIAUDHUW Grian jumped man

They renamed it “Cave of Do Not Enter” HIAUEDUH

Mumbo and Scar BOTH did not know- at least Mumbo didn’t, Scar forgot, that podzol spawns from two-by-two spruce..

him and his guitar song to be played underneath his house.. it goes with the aesthetic i suppose

MAN HE NEEDS SO MUCH HAYBALES I FORGOT THATS NEEDED FOR THE TUNE HE WANTS

Mumbo: “What.. On Earth.. Scar, it’s meant to be a starterbase, buddy! What is this? This is many things, many many things, a starterbase is NOT one of them!”

HE LITERALLY DIDNT KNOW THAT THE DRAGON EGG TELEPORTS... WHEN YOU TOUCH IT...

BDUBS

nothing special we havent seen yet!! just him screaming about axolotls.

He was working in the Mesa in his intro, skipping the “speech” from Mumbo

He released Idiot the Axolotl and lost it .

Him SCREAMING “Gemini” is HILARIOUS

While Gemini gave away those three diamonds, Keralis got so excited he won a bet with Tango and Bdubs, that he gave back . two of the diamonds . and none of htem released until well after they left

Bdubs: “That’s why i have my mwoss skin!” PLEASE I LOVE THE WAY HE SAYS IT.. make the moss hood.. REAL..

it took me a while to figure out what his base is but i LOVE IT so so much!!!

Nothing much new to add !!

Stress pov

please i love her . very good !! False seems to have joined her sheerly because Stress sounded like she knew what she was doing. she does not.

False felt peerpressured and asked Stress for permission to fight her because everyone was killing eachother .

It ended up with Stress following False. they found a village!

ISKALL only saw him one other time today!!

JEVIN APPEARS AGAIN !

XISUMA FELL INTO HTE BREEDER AND IT WAS SO FUNN IUAHHYIAUSD

Ren: “Ya look goregous, Stress!” Stress: “Thanks! Don’t murder my dog!”

She’s so proud of herself for caving!! (with False n Gem

Iskall blew up!

..Iskall fell from a high place

Stress has a LOVELY ravine base!!

False

False wants to become pirates with Stress <3

gatekeep gaslight girlboss

BIG OL MUSHROOM HOUSE !!

it looks like a mushroom church and i LOVE IT.

Nothing new we didn’t see from Gem. She does want to come up with a banner design for her base, though!

Grian

..Mumbo just thought Grian had a purpose so decided to follow him <3

ALSO HIS INTRO, AS HE JOKED ABOUT IN THE OTHERS VIDEO, WAS, IN FACT, THE BOATEM POLE

Grian is SO PROUD of the fact taht they got good loot from a treasure map. Ren and Doc are NOT IMPRESSED

Grian: “Lets go, potato boy!”

Mumbo: “I don’t have to replace everything I break! Peace Love and Plants- are these plants..?” He says, mining amethyst

pants

he who controls the egg, controls the server... Grian.. you’re doing great sir

...He decided.. his goal.. is to make his OWN..caves and cliffs update... HELLO..?

Grian was the first one to kill the enderdragon, MAN. Speedrunning career WHEN? /j

Grian: “And now [Mumbo] is flexing on my bed!”

he might not have a base. but he has an egg.

It is now 2am. i cannot do this anymore. This will be continued.. tomorrow!

#long post #SERIOUSLY I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW LONG I WENT #spoilers #hermitcraft 8 #hermitcraft 8 spoilers #hc 8 #hc 8 spoilers #mcyt #mcytblr #hermitblr #hermitcraft #mika-posts

55 notes · View notes

eowynwise · 2 years

Note

Okay, so hard questions back at you:

1) What's your favorite book in the whole world, and 2) what's a book you love that you feel is underrated or that more people need to read?

What goes around comes around, huh? 😂

1. What's your favorite book in the whole world?

Like you, my mind immediately ran through about ten different titles, but after some internal debate, I'm going to say Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. I've loved it for over a decade and have reread it more times than I can count. In terms of sheer craft, Marilynne Robinson has to be one of the best writers of our time. She conveys so much in these trim compact sentences... it's truly a wonder. And I find Gilead, specifically, to be so spiritually nourishing: it has real meat to it, y'know? It feeds parts of me that most fiction doesn't.

(But if we're talking poetry instead of fiction, then my answer is Rilke's Book of Hours—specifically the translation by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy and I know that's cheating but I made the rules so I can break them.)

2. What's a book you love that you feel is underrated or that more people need to read?

Mink River by Brian Doyle. Oh my gosh, I love Mink River so much. It's this weird little novel about the inhabitants of a fictional small town on the Oregon coast. It's weird and lyrical and whimsical. (Like, one of the characters is a talking crow named Moses. And very little ink is spilled on explaining why the crow can talk. He just can. He even goes off on a little rant at one point about the cultural and moral differences between crows and ravens. Ugh, it's so good.) Doyle wrote some of the longest sentences I've ever seen outside of a Charles Dickens novel, but they're so beautiful and joyful I'm always down for the ride. And I think his writing is a prime example of someone who very effectively and strategically broke grammatical rules for the sake of the message/content. I once read an article on Brian Doyle that described his style this way, and I couldn't agree with it more:

"It is difficult to convey... the way he gave seemingly ordinary moments and people and creatures importance and grace, and the nonstop verve of his voice as he moved in a headlong rush from topic to topic, eschewing commas and even periods in pursuit of the joyous, dangerous, effusive beat at the heart of life."

(And oh my God, Doyle's essay "Joyas Voladoras"? It's so gut-wrenchingly beautiful.)

Anyway, as you can probably tell, I'm a big Brian Doyle fan in general, but Mink River will always be my favorite of his works, and I really think more people should read it. It's a hidden treasure of American literature. 💕

(In terms of poetry, a collection that should be read by more people is When We Were Birds by Joe Wilkins, because holy cow does that man know how to use words!)

#ask #book talk

4 notes · View notes

foryouthegays · 3 years

Text

techno liveblog w timestamps lets go for ‘a new home (dream SMP)’ stream

good laugh times: 00:13:50, 00:14:55, 1:38:45, ik it doesnt look like a lot but like u should watch the stream anyway bc philzas there and his laugh is amazing and they just go so well together

times techno calls phil his friend: 00:6:00 00:37:00, 00:45:17, 0:1:09:30, 01:11:15, 01:26:35, 01:50:05, 2:35:00

FSDJKFAF;LS HE KEPT THE MUTED INTRO IN JHKADFLS (ends at 00:1:25)

i like how, when faced with Leaving Youtube, techno would choose to be an author. i want a book by techno. reblog this if u want a book by techno (with an audiobook by him as well) /hj. 00:1:33

i love how he says ehhhhhh so much lskjhdfas (abt 2 mins in)

who the FUCK just remembers that the word fortuitous exists wtf 00:5:17

00:7:45 PHILZA TIME PHILZA TIME LETS GO

00:8:55 tommy time :/

0:14:10 rANBOO JUST WALKS IN, LOOKS AROUN ,AND LEA VE SIM CRYING

i love how much philza laughs at technos jokes bc pretty much everything he says IS a joke he just says it in such a serious voice that p much everyone else is like,,,yeah,,,,yup,,,,and phil just knows when hes joking and his laugh is so good with technos voice. sbi? whos that? i only know philza and technoblade

00:19:30 ghostbur joins! this is my first time hearin ghostbur btw

00:19:40 haha string axe technos so bad at crafting what a fool /j

00:21:07 ghostbur: “Even I remember how to make a fishing rod!” ghostbur u just MURDERED technoblade oh my god im gonna scream hgjdfksla i love ghostbur so much

00:23:55: GHOSTBUR NO!! DON’T DIE YOU’LL BECOME A DOUBLE GHOST!!!! -technoblade 2020

00:24:55 technoblade neva lies -guys he almost did the technoblade neva dies ahh!!!!!

i havent heard anyone talk about this but techno has a dedicated roleplay voice. like listen to him talk to tommy at 00:25:08. his voice gets more even, he uses names a lot more often (seriously, listen to his theseus speech. he says tommy so often, its incredible.), and his voice gets,,,,deeper? not deeper but smoother, in a way, and he repeats what he says for emphasis instead of humor. and his voice is louder, and he seems more assertive.

00:27:30 philza: where we goin, by the way? techno: to our- to my new home.

techno cmon let phil live w u wed get so much more content cmonn

00:28:50 the fact that he calls the manhunt theme “dream music” makes me laugh so hard. and then his version of it,,,,,m love he (also he sings it here and at 01:14:20)

00:35:10 why is ranboo so cryptic im-

why does he just casually know the word sentry wh at i hate him 00:39:45

this is the worst sentence (structurally) ive ever heard techno say im gonna cry 00:49:33 ‘im too busy thinkin of new ideas to sleep so i could actually execute them’ and tubbos *oh?* after is just hdsfgkjlka

LKSJDHFJK 00:51:49

00:54:30

techno: thats one of dreams powers, he can just stop the rain

tubbo, quietly: like jesus!

i love them sm dsfhkjla they kept going but i jus gdfhjksa jesus has op

techno @ being the second worst thing to ever happen to those orphans: haha funnie!!

techno @ having fun w religious stuff: i wILL BE CANCELLED NO-

00:58:10 “hey if ur [ghostbur] a ghost, do instant damage potions heal you now?” “...no,, they hurt me still :(” DSIULZKJHFSLKFJH

01:04:00 his brother named the cow bob im- aww

also he has a fanart wall again!!!

01:09:30 “phil, you’re the only friend i have left in this world.” aWWWWW HE GAVE HIM THE COMPASS

“dont smoke, it’s a joke” -technoblade 01:14:15

ROLEPLAY SPEECH VOICE IS BACK AT 1:16:10 “they pillage my base for everything i’m worth, they use me for the revolution, but oooOOOoo i took a pickaxe with his consent? oOOOooOo i’m a thief!”

holy shit 01:17:15 “you know what, phil? for you, the world, alright? it’s fine.” oH MY GOD HHHHGHG (context, right before they were arguing bc phil took some blocks from his base and techno thought that when he said phil could take anything he meant from the chests)

the COMIDY of that villager coming in and sleeping while techno was readin donos at 01:22:05 RIGHT AFTER phil freaked out abt inturruptin his dono readin im SFDHKJLA:

techno talkin bout the winstreak and how he wont be able to live up to that sort of playin at 01:22:30ish is super important and ill transcribe it tomorrow, but if u can id highly rec watchin it.

01:24:20 “[readin dono] what’s your favorite movie? uh, the princess bride is pretty good” techno ily that movie rocks also he said it so fast like hes ashamed of it noo

techno says no to canon ranboo son btw! 01:25:30

01:25:55 “i wasnt in that story, therefore it doesnt matter” all of technoblr be like

01:37:49 is great lemmie transcribe

“how have you still not gotten a second monitor?? holy shit.”

“let me tell you something. and im only telling you this because i know that so many people in the chat are gonna be furious. so i recently realized- i think the second monitor can just be any ol’ monitor, right? you literally just plug it in, and its set up? well i mean you have to turn on some settings, but like, thats it, or something?”

“yeah,,,,, uh techno you fuckin destroyed my chat, by the way, oh my god, [earlier techno told his viewers to twitch prime philza] there has been like 40 primes just flying through”

“yeahhh twitch prime!!! twitch prime philza yeahh!!! so anyways the other day, i like, i looked to my left, and realized that my old monitor has been like, five feet away from where i sit and stream for the last three years?”

“oh my god...”

“so i- i literally do not have to leave my room to set up a second monitor and i havent. and i’m still usin my laptop for this stream.

“is this gonna be one of those situations where you like, you have a thing, you just refuse to do the thing?”

“listen, my desk is-

“yOU STILL HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE!!!”

“AHHHH I HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE! I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY MCC COIN! DUDE I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY ONE MILLION SUBSCRIBER PLAQUE! ITS STILL THERE RIGHT BEHIND ME! ITs sTILL IN THE BOX! i never made a video on it....”

“bruhhhhh [philza laughs] thats FREE VIEWS what are you doing??”

“ill open it at 8 mil :/.”

“you could LITERALLY make a video of you just like, throwing it off a wall, and then thumbing up, like doing a thumbs up, and then that would be it. 10 seconds. ten seconds. thumb and elbow in shot. [laughs]”

techno is such a disaster i love him

01:34:18 the way techno says “tommy, that statement has NEVER been true” i dont like sayin i simp for block men but GOD sometimes his voice is nicer than usual hhhgn

“man i sure wish tommyinnit was in this stream” -nobody ever (just after previous timestamp)

01:40:15 is fuckin hilarious and im actually crying oh my god techno just says things and says them well with a completely straight face how does he do it

i cannot WAIT until theres a president w the last/first name andy so we can say president andy and think abt technoblade

IM CRIASDNGUSFHD 01:44:38 PHILZA LOOK OUT LOOK OUT PHILZA LSKJDAFJASD;LKF

i love when techno talks abt his vids. like u can tell he puts a lot of thought into the vids (esp these ones) and like at 01:47:00 he talks abt the “I DIDNT PUT DEAPTH STRIDER ON THOSE BOOTS, FUNDY!” and how its just that creepin realization that you were doomed from the start and how he made the armor, he isnt intimidated by the netherite bc he didnt enchant it all the way and only he knows that,,, and i just,,,hgg he

he reveals that hes writin the next arc at 01:48:00: “oh, speakin of arcs, chat, i’m writing the next arc. so, you know. hope nothin bad happens in two weeks, chat!” IM SO EXCITED like he clearly has his character fleshed out and is SO good at writing and retellin history im so so excited to see where he takes it AHHHH and also taht means he might stream more bc he might make his character more important (keep in mind this is the guy who wrote self insert hypixel fanfics. he has no shame in puttin himself first and i respect him so much for it)

01:51:20 “they’re tryin to get a second customer but they’re riskin their first” is lowkey a good line

has anyone else noticed that techno says wise a lot? like at 01:55:10 he literally says “wise dragon armor” as a joke but like i think he says wise so much BECAUSE of skyblock like hjkfdsla

01:57:30 techno plea se eat

ok 1:58:45 is hilarious and all but at the end of his ramble he says “come back, i miss you” and lowkey im crying

techno needs to stop knowing his audience more than we know ourselves im hsfkjda 02:05:25 “the chat’s spammin ‘eat technoblade, eat!’ like they’re not gonna start, like, theyre not gonna get super sad if i ended the stream right now, like theyre not gonna all cry ‘i miss technoblade *sniffs* why- whyd he leave to eat food, why did he listen to our advice noooo’”

02:14:50 NEW VIDEO POGGGG CARL THE HORSE POGGGGGG NOT A STREAM HIGHLIGHT POGGGGG

02:17:40 “i could start a potato farm out here to show how much ive changed” techno last time u made a potato farm u started an entire war that lasted a year that does NOT say calm and retired to me lskgdfjagsldj

02:23:00 why does techno just reference greek mythology so much. makin me scared for his arc.

also he talks abt smp earth a lot in this stream i love it so much

i also just. love?? how much sbi respect tommy like they bully him but when talkin bout him they just have so much respect for how much work he puts into youtube and i just,,,,hgnn they r friends

02:33:13 sbi streamer house lets go cmon

02:34:15 “i think if i streamed every day i could keep up” on one hand YE S but on the ohter oh god techno no we have to keep up tho

hearing techno say “violence isnt the answer” is so scary 02:35:40

02:37:30 technosneeze

hiS BROTHER SENT HIM 46 DISCORD MESSAGES SFKDJLFLKASF 2:49:25 i love his end screen so much hes just sadness,,,,retirement,,,t,echnoblade,,,the government is going to fall on its own due to lack of organization and ideals,,,,,,subscribe,,,,,sadness,,,,,also 2:50:45 is making me laugh so hard its just sad music and technos like??? whys phil in my house drinking milk?????

overall, fantastic stream, if ya want some chill techno philza content i highly recommend.

#stream post

44 notes · View notes

eyrieofsynapses · 3 years

Text

so today I just watched the first episode of Almost Paradise! And I’ve gotta say, I am impressed. I already had it on my watchlist but I was planning to wait to watch it for a while until I could let Eliot fade a bit from memory, just so I wouldn’t automatically think of him while watching Kane. But I ran into an article this weekend about how it was filmed in the Philippines and the details of that, and my curiosity was piqued considerably more, so I figured... why not?

(I also started White Collar this weekend and that was very enjoyable, but that’s a post for another day.)

Anyway, my brain’s buzzing now, so have some first impressions and reactions, plus initial meta-analysis because I am intrigued. In hindsight I probably should have recorded first impressions while I was watching, but I’ll do my best to remember the bits that stuck out. Warning for... exceedingly long post.

ooo, okay, so he’s got a medical condition. I faaaaintly remember reading about this in the summary but I didn’t pay much attention to that, oops.

telling a guy played by Chris Kane not to get his heartrate up! that’s definitely gonna happen. definitely. one hundred percent. not like this guy loves fighting or anything

(also tbh the joke about, ah, sexual dysfunction admittedly left a sour taste in my mouth, because I do not go for that kind of thing, but... this is Devlin and Kane, so I’m trusting, based off Leverage experience, that they aren’t gonna be too inappropriate. [In hindsight there are actually interesting meta reasons for this so the sour taste has dissipated somewhat.])

this poor doctor. she’s so done with him.

...he’s definitely not gonna pay attention to the monitor is he

that journal’s gonna get zero use oop

(I was duly impressed when he actually did use it later)

huh, liking how we immediately dive into the effect tourism has had on the Philippines. so we’re getting some commentary here too? I can deal with that

...wow. bad shop. eek

I’m sorry but I am loving the touch with the floorboards and such breaking beneath Alex. the look on his face is just perfect

and the monitor goes off! for tbh the last reason I expected it to first go off for, excellent

MOTORCYLE? did they give him a motorcycle?!

awww no it’s the baddies who have the motorcycle :(

hmm this should be interesting. loving the look of this leader guy tho

--aaaand good asthetic guy is dead! with an ice pick! creepy and creative!

bar. no way this could go wrong

internal battle! understandable that Alex wants out, buuuuuuut if he’s anything like I suspect he is--

--yup, picking a fight, with a damn pool cue--

--not picking a fight?

...picking a fight. by being friendly. *sigh*

yuuuuuuuup. that’s definitely good for your heart

badass fighting scene! with a pool cue, that’s a new one! love seeing Kane take ordinary objects and turn them into fighting tools

(ngl this had Eliot vibes. that said I am thrilled to see how damn good these fight scenes are and this is making me even more excited for Redemption)

aaaaaaaaaand oh fuck this was a police setup. which. I actually did not see coming, huh

ahahah they’re pissed! because he messed up their bust? or because he just saved their asses?

...probably technically the former but I suspect the latter is also true

refusing to get Involved being foreshadowed by his indecision earlier! of course he’s going to get Involved anyway, only question is how

“hitter” I SEE YOU. I SEE YOU AND YOUR REFERENCES. I SEE YOU DEVLIN AND KANE

pfffffffffffFFFFFT the meditation, oh gods

that voice. oh Alex.

I genuinely cannot tell if this is him actually trying or if this is him begrudgingly making an attempt because he has to

lacquering(?) the doors, which, hey, actually look pretty nice--this place is gonna look good when it’s done isn’t iii--

oh fuck Alex is being attacked

(this is definitely something to be concerned about. yes. totally. not like we haven’t already seen him take down a bunch of guys.)

with a garrot! this is definitely totally not how he’s gonna get Involved

oh my gods the detail with the paint. nothing says Competent like getting irritated at how the baddie interrupted your house restoration

hehehehe Involved

oooh, hmm, he thinks they sent the guy after him? what kind of corruption has Alex faced? I mean it’s not an unreasonable fear, but jeez, it sounds like this has happened to him before. doesn’t say much good about the DEA...

huh, this is a level of disturbed I haven’t seen from Kane before. which, granted, I have only seen him in Leverage, but I’ve never seen him pull this out before. the voice crack is an excellent touch

also, worth noting, Alex is definitely a notable level of... hmm, paranoid? this is just a tad bit frantic, though that’s understandable from a guy who almost got killed while in the middle of an attempted meditation

oh god being cocky in the middle of a briefing. poor Kai

--being cocky and competence porn! of course he takes the watch and turns it into a lesson

...he must be a hell of a teacher

(also, bonus points for actually using the journal. maybe he’s taking this health thing more seriously than I thought he would?)

may I repeat: COMPETENCE PORN

uh-huh, you’re so not involved, definitely, Alex, not like you’re gonna get pulled straight into this or anything

Ernesto is just watching to see how things play out, Kai is... trying to do things the right way, and Alex...

...Alex gives precisely zero fucks. buddy you are so not subtle

right, walking straight into the lion’s den! radiating confidence! terrifying

this is a disturbing level of truth he’s sharing for this lie. I mean, best lies are crafted from truth, but... jeez

hm. so is Alex also a “I don’t like guns” type guy?

(probably not for the same reasons as Eliot doesn’t [his is definitely more in the “they make it too easy to kill” department whereas I would guess Alex has either more tactical or PTSD reasons], but, hmm. this is something to watch for)

(did they know they were bringing back Leverage when they set up Almost Paradise? I’m genuinely wondering if they didn’t write some Eliot traits into Alex specifically bc they knew Kane missed playing him)

this is a fantastically confident level of grifting--what exactly did he do in the DEA, precisely?

...ah. cool asthetic guy. stuffed in the freezer. gotta admit, I definitely didn’t see that one coming. creepy!

(and it looks like you actually managed to shake Alex a little, hah)

aaaaaand in the meantime we have Kai following his advice! in an... interesting way. hm.

(surprisingly this does not annoy me that much in hindsight. not sure why)

and understandably, this does not go over well! except, oh, fuck, DEA guy. this ain’t gonna be good

...worse. worse than I thought. what happened to you, Alex? former partner? whaaat

“attacks”?

this gonna be the typical “traumatized white dude has Anger Attacks” type thing?

honestly I immediately went “probably not” given how it was handled in Leverage. wasn’t sure though. but that does leave the question of what sort of attacks? it doesn’t seem like it’d be meltdowns, so what does that leave?

hmmm. DEA guy is an Ass. we Do Not Like him. I’ve known Alex for less than half an hour but you do not do that to him. you do not use trauma against your guy, Jerkface.

cutting a deal? this should be interesting

...well shit. I. am sincerely hoping Kai isn’t about to walk in on anything too bad

this definitely isn’t gonna be a fight though, that I called right off the bat

--bottles. dammit

oh, Christ. attempted OD or just drunk?

just drunk! good! well, very Not Good, but better than the other thing

pffffft dunking him in the water and then him going straight back to the water when he sees her, that is both absolutely hilarious and deeply concerning

aaand I’m agreeing with Kai but also, poor guy just got confronted with a hell of a lot of things that would raise his trau--

...mm. yeah. that’d be it.

...I. was. not expecting that much backstory info straight off. holy cow, Alex. that is. messed up. someone get this man a hug

“one of the guys that cared too much”

(...like you?)

(or is that why you won’t let yourself care now?)

fuck, there was a lot more to that boat scene than I thought. ow

partner who betrayed him like that? I’m just. gods.

Trust Issues is definitely gonna be a Thing isn’t it

can we just take a second to appreciate how Christian Kane is playing the absolute hell out of this character

aaaand Kai brings him back to the city for a Heartwarming Reminder of why he was in the game! this is very tropey but it is, as John Rogers has pointed out, an instance of the “well-worn writing tool” rather than feeling cheesy!

holy crap Kai has lost. a lot of people. oh man

ahahahaha classic “why did you bring me here?” line! you know why, Alex. you know why

oh, and Ernesto gets a chance to help him out! I’m already enjoying this so much

awww and Kai shows up to help encourage him! with coffee! supportive friend and very obvious but honestly okay love interest! good!!!

(what the heck is with Devlin and his crew and sticking Kane with two besties? based on Ernesto’s dynamic with him I’m guessing this isn’t gonna be an OT3 but. I am loving the trend)

“I’m gonna regret this in the morning” pfft

huh, working with the DEA agents. not like he’s gonna go off script or anything. that’s totally not gonna happen is it

hehe irritated look while they’re putting on the mic. he is so very unimpressed

--”little episodes”--episodes?

moment of appreciation for the un-forced-feeling diversity in these police squads

“how’s the anxiety?” I’m sorry what

hold up, when we say “episodes”--are we talking panic attacks? does Alex have actual goddamn anxiety?

...actually with PTSD? that would make complete sense. I am... intrigued. I am really hoping that that’s the case, actually, because having seen how well they handled Parker and her PTSD in Leverage (as well as Nate’s and Eliot’s) I have a lot of faith that they could pull that off really well, actually. That would be good.

ppFFFT TAKING OFF THE WIRES RIGHT OFF THE BAT

wait what. you’re telling them everything? what’s your game here?

“get that frikkin gun outta my face!” yup, not a fan of guns! no disarming though? huh

(also can we just. appreciate how Kane manages to make “frikkin” sound just as much like the cuss it’s replacing?)

(LET ALEX SAY FUCK)

oh. OH

hi Ernesto! hi Kai! I see what y’all doing

ohhhhhhhhhh Alex you goddamn genius. Getting rid of all of the drugs so there’s no way the precise thing he was claiming to be doing can happen. I like this

THE MEDITATION COMING ON ON THE RECORDING I CAN’T--OH MY GODS

Alex please tell me you know how to disarm a gun. please. guns are not effective at that distance

OH. OH I DID NOT SEE KAI COMING.

got ‘em! murder confession, how did I not see that coming? good stuff

Kai can fight!

KAI CAN FUCKING FIGHT WOW

I am very much appreciating Kai right now

also is that a FLYING KICK from Ernesto?

they better give these people more fight scenes

aaaaand straight into the water, oh god. I’m assuming this was a choice made because Alex is familiar with this territory? ...I do not think I want to know where Alex learned to fight underwater.

(I really really really want to know.)

how the fuck has your monitor not gone off by now Alex

choking him out underwater, okay, wow

what size are your lungs? this is long

extra kudos for excellent underwater filming and wow I am hoping the actors actually came up for air

(this is also unreasonably beautiful for a scene where you’re choking out a drug lord. the water is so pretty)

Evil DEA guy (no I am not going to learn his name, he doesn’t deserve it) is gonna be Alex’s Agent Sterling, isn’t he? this should be interesting

heh, police chief is taking his side! good stuff, good stuff

(it is very nice to see Alex getting some people in his corner after knowing what hell the DEA put him through)

Alex has fallen so damn hard for Kai. this is very very adorable actually

awww he’s really getting into fixing up the shop, isn’t he? I’m sincerely looking forward to seeing how he gets this up and going, it really looks like he’s enjoying himself

somehow I am starting to wonder if the cocky “oh yeah I’m opening up a gift shop how exciting huh” thing at the start wasn’t... actually genuine. he... is enjoying this, isn’t he? good. very good

I am unreasonably invested in this man’s wellbeing for one episode in

!!!!!!!!! HE GETS HIS PARADE

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

giving him his reason to keep going! yes! yessss

oh Alex you are attached now. you are very attached. good luck my dude and don’t let the trust issues get in the way

this is a good show. this is a heckin awesome show.

also, side note, it is SO PRETTY

I am just loving loving loving all of the scenery. competence porn AND landscape and city porn. beautiful. perfection. excellent

...that was. much longer than I anticipated oops

anyway, conclusion: hot damn this is a fun show! I am very excited to keep watching this. Alex officially has my heart, even if he’s a bit of a cocky bastard sometimes. Kane is fucking hilarious. (More reasons to be excited for Redemption!) Kai and Ernesto also have my heart, and I am extremely interested to see their character development.

Honestly, the beauty is surprising. I didn’t expect to just enjoy how pretty it is. The blues of the ocean, the intense tropical colors, even the run-down gift shop--there’s such a gorgeous aesthetic to it all. If I wasn’t already invested in the characters and plot, I’d be invested for that alone.

So... I have some thoughts on Alex and the show structure.

He’s obviously very disillusioned. There’s a lot of nods to the idea of war--he’s commonly referring to himself as a soldier, as a veteran, maybe as a casualty. I’m gonna take a totally wild guess here and say this show is going to be focused on the drug issues in the Philippines. (Wow, Synapse, how the heck’d you guess that?) I do find describing the war on drugs as a war, and going into the terminology that comes with it, very appropriate, and I like how this show is actively calling this to attention rather than using it as a convenient plot. They’re actually addressing the issue and discussing its impact. And given how overlooked certain aspects of the impact of the drug war on the Philippines is, this is a good choice, especially in order to alert American viewers to the issue. I’m curious to see how they handle that.

Again, interesting drawing parallels to war, too, and comparing it against the likes of WWI and Vietnam. It really gives that sense of weight to the issue and defines a vital aspect of it: the impact of the war on drugs on the people involved. It emphasizes that the people who are fighting it suffer consequences and PTSD just as a soldier in the field does, and it also emphasizes, with Kai, that it isn’t just the people actively fighting who bear the consequences. It’s also the people on the sidelines--it’s the families, the people on the streets by the gunfights, the economical impact, etcetera.

But there’s also an element to Alex’s character that automatically makes him relatable to a lot of people... and it has nothing to do with the PTSD, nothing to do with the war on drugs, nothing really to do with the main issues. It is, simply, the intense hopelessness and depression that comes with trying to make a difference. In his case it’s making a difference on a severe worldwide issue. But the vast majority, if not all, of Almost Paradise’s audience should be able to relate to a feeling of never doing enough. And there’s certainly a large section of that group who can relate to being part of a fight that never seems to end. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing--if it’s driven at helping, it rarely ever feels like you ever do enough. But the advice given is excellent. One of the best things to do, when you’re feeling hopeless over this, is to focus on and take deep joy in the impact you do make.

Alex is an expression of a frustration that a lot of people deal with. This, I think, is one of the reasons why he instantly drew me--and presumably the rest of the audience--in (outside of a fantastic actor and great humor). He’s relatable. He’s something that most people can see a part of themselves in.

Anyway, symbolism and real-world talk aside, this is just... fun. It’s genuine fun. We’re covering rough issues, but there’s a lot of well-written tropes in here too that are written in that way that makes them enjoyable to relive rather than painful. The humor is delightful and plentiful. There’s a lot of beautiful feel-good moments. I’m suspecting this’ll be a comfort show, and I am perfectly all right with that.

Onto the next episode!

#Almost Paradise #Almost Paradise spoilers #Almost Paradise 1x01 #reaction post #christian kane #(please please please let these be the right tags)#synapse reacts #this is a new thing!#hopefully y'all like the new thing!#even though I am exceedingly long-winded #I mean this is basically the equivalent of me yelling into the void #but I need SOME void to yell into #so this might as well be it #and perhaps someone'll get a kick out of it #so why not?

12 notes · View notes

audreyandherocs · 3 years

Text

Thea's Cave: Chapter 5

“You don’t have a communicator?!”

“Tommy, tommy, I literally woke up in the world just…I don’t know how long actually?” said Thea, her face scrunching at the realization that she didn’t keep count. “Wait, what’s a communicator?”

Tubbo trotted up to her and pulled out his communicator, showing it to her. “We use these to call and keep into contact with people. Also other things like if people get despawned or something.”

“Ohhhh, yeah definitely don’t have that. If I did, then I would’ve known there were other people around.”

“This is unacceptable! We got to get you one now, or how else are you going to need help from Tubbo and I!” yelled Tommy as if it was a crime.

Thea folded her arms together and human, leaning slightly against her wall. Her newly acquired bees were buzzing around which was a great delight to Tubbo.

“I mean, I’m close to L’manberg to book for it” noted Thea but the boys didn’t notice it. They were going in and out of the house, exploring everywhere as Thea just snorted at their antics but kept on working and learning.

She had a crossbow, snatched from the pillagers all those time ago, and apparently, she could shoot fireworks out of it. She had planned to experiment more with the fireworks but that plan went out of the window when the boys came.

It had been only three days since she met these boys and she already knew, they were chaotic and would need supervision when they were handling TnT. So, she had gone out and looked for some animals, Tommy enthusiastically helping her round up cows and chickens, and bees by an enthusiastic Tubbo. Thea found some sheep and now she was just tending to them and the farmland.

“HEY THEA,” yelled Tommy from the balcony as she turned to him nonchalantly, “WHERE ARE YOUR GUEST BEDROOMS?!”

“I DON’T HAVE ANY!” she yelled back and turned to her planning potatoes.

“WHAT?! WHY!?”

“WHY WOULD I?!” she yelled back a question, before snorting. There was someone jumping off and Thea turned back to see Tommy and Tubbo parkouring off the balcony and rushing towards her.

“So we can sleep over!”

Thea stood up and dusted off her pants, noting absentmindedly that she should get new clothes.

“If you guys do, just set a bed somewhere in the bedroom, I don’t care. I got wool and dye, just mark which is which and mind my stuff.”

Tommy and Tubbo beamed and dashed off as Thea realized she had just given the two permission to set their place. Thea shrugged as she heard the two boys in her home yelling about something and as she collected honey, she felt another presence.

She turned to it, seeing Wilbur walking down her little path. His eyes met hers and Thea instinctively waved her hand to greet him, smiling as she did.

“Hello Mr. President” she said as Wilbur gave a smile.

“Thea, I see you got a house now” he said, hands folded behind his back and head turning around to take in the place.

“Yeah, don’t need much sleep and got it done” said Thea as she put away her honey. “Here on some official business?”

“Something like that but it’s nothing right now. Tommy had mentioned a few things and I had some time so I thought I would come check it out.”

Thea hummed and nodded. Her eyes focused on Wilbur’s face, taking his features in before noting how skinny he was. Even if he was tall, he looked to be pushed thin from exhaustion and lack of management. Although his eyes were not focused on her, she could see the tiredness and the bubbling madness that was threatening to burst.

She didn’t want to think why the madness was there, but she guessed it had to do with elections and politics. It always did a number on people, one way or another.

Thea gestured to her home and smiled, “Well, would you like to come in for some tea? It’ll be nice to get to know you more.”

Wilbur jumped in surprise, eyes wide.

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“I want to” said Thea, placing a hand on his arm but just above hovering. An open invitation but not one of force.

Wilbur looked at her and his posture relaxed, giving her a small smile. “That would nice, thank you.”

Thea grinned and guided Wilbur to her home. “Tommy and Tubbo are here already so what’s one more?”

Wilbur was led into her home and was immediately hit with the smell of food. His mouth watered at the smell and he then wondered when he last ate. He took another whiff and knew it was stew with freshly baked bread mixed in it. The door was opened, allowing the smell of flowers waft in.

He looked past the smell of food and he found himself standing in the room. He saw furnaces and her crafting station to one side of the home, where nearby were piles of chests and barrels. A weaving station was another part of the home with a chest bit it. There was a table with chairs surrounding it, on top of it with a nicely placed cactus.

There were two entrances, one leading up to the balcony and one leading down to the basement.

There was thumping upstairs and Wilbur instantly recognized Tommy’s and Tubbo’s voices. There were also sounds of barks and remembered Lupa and Fenrir.

Wilbur heard clattering as he turned to see Thea walking from her ‘kitchen’ and to the table. He politely walked over and sat in a chair as Thea sat opposite of him. She served the tea, him politely saying thank you before the two sat there with their tea and snacks.

There were a tense few awkward seconds before Thea felt the need to break the ice. “So, how are things?”

Wilbur chuckled nervously, lowering his cup. “I’ve been busy, with the election coming up and work to be done.”

Thea politely nodded, “Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

Thea took a sip before speaking. “One cannot take care of others if they cannot take care of themselves.”

Wilbur stared at her bewildered as Thea elaborated, “I get it, being president is stressful and there are ton of things to do and think about. But you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be able to take care of anyone else; much less a country.”

The man in front of her ran a hand through his hair, resting his arms on the table. “You do make sense, but there’s a lot you don’t know. From the start, we fought for our freedom and our country but then once it was over, my control on the country has been slipping. Losing this election would make our effort for naught.”

Thea let him speak on and on, silently encouraging Wilbur to drink and eat the snacks. Soon they were finished as Wilbur sighed, leaning against his chair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t plan on-“

“I’m a new person, I literally know nothing or anyone else. With the election soon, whatever you say to me won’t matter either way, I won’t be able to influence any changes and it’ll be nothing once it’s over” cut in Thea, “So, don’t worry about it.”

Wilbur stared at her bewildered and he was only met with a straight-face. It was only a few moments pasted that Thea realized what she had said and her face was covered with her hands.

“Sorryyyyyyy, totally uncalled for” she groaned out.

Wilbur chuckled, “I didn’t expect you would say something like that.”

Thea removed her hands and she had a disgruntled face, “10 years of basically off the grid will mess with your social skills. Though, I haven’t considered myself to be particularly charismatic.”

Wilbur chuckled and took a sip of his remaining tea. Thea lowered her hands, about to speak when the tell-tale sign of Tommy yelling was heard.

“THEA!”

The aforementioned person stood up in her chair in a panic, eyes wide and body stiff with attention. She looked to the stairway and so did Wilbur. Tommy and Tubbo barreled down the stairway, holding her sketchbook in hand. They ran up to her and held out the open pages.

“I didn’t know you could draw!”

Thea relaxed, giving a huge sigh of relief and fell back into her chair. She had a hand on her face as she gave a nervous laughter. “Don’t scare me like that, I thought the worst-“

“Yeah, yeah-“ cut in Tommy before placing the sketchbook down on her table and flipped it with Tubbo and Wilbur looking with interest. “These are so pog, why don’t you show them more?!”

“Tommy, I will say this again and again. I literally woke up after god knows how long, I had other priorities. I haven’t exactly had time to paint either.”

“If we win the election, will you draw portraits of Wilbur and I?!”

Wilbur placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, scolding him. “Tommy, you can’t just ask her to-“

“Sure.”

They all looked at Thea who had a thoughtful look on her face, her arms crossed and back leaning against the chair. She had a thoughtful expression before she smiled at them. “But don’t get your hopes up though. It’s been years-“

“Wait, really?” gaped Wilbur.

Thea shrugged. “On any other circumstances, no. But, it has been years since I’ve properly drawn anything. At the end of it, it would be a great exercise and practice. Not to mention,” her eyes softened. “It’ll help solidify the fact that I’ve met people and interacted with them. That I was here.”

Wilbur looked at her with surprise as Tommy cheered. Tubbo tried to ask if he was included too which Thea confirmed that he too would be included. The two boys were chattering and bouncing off ideas to Thea who hummed and gave her honest opinions. Reminding them not to get too attached.

Wilbur had a small feeling of warmth in his chest and he didn’t know why. He was about to pull Tommy and Tubbo away for over-staying her hospitality when there was a large growl.

Everyone turned to Wilbur, whose ears turned red and Tommy gawfed, ready to make fun of the president when his own stomach betrayed him. It was Tommy’s turn for his ears to turn red and Tubbo was about to laugh and it started a domino effect.

Thea choked a bit before she let out a laugh, wheezing and everyone turned to her as she was slamming her hand on the table and knee, before keeling over and continued to laugh. They all watched in awe and concern as the girl continued to laugh and fall onto the ground, holding her stomach.

“What are the odds- HOLY COW” choked out Thea in laughter as she struggled to get back on her feet. “I…the ODDS!”

Tommy gawked at her and started to protest. “Hey, hey, stop laughing!-“

Thea snorted as she shakily made her way to the kitchen. “I…I’m going to get… *SNORT* Just sit down, I got it-“ she continued to laugh, forcing herself to stop as she slammed her head against the wall to force herself to stop.

Tubbo giggled before he went to help Thea who was wobbling due to the lack of oxygen.

Wilbur ran a hand over his neck bashfully as Tommy groaned, muttering to himself. Soon, they were all gathered around the table as plates of food were offered. They all dug into the soup, bread, and meats that were offered.

All three of them dug into their food and Thea couldn’t help feel that her suspicions were right on that they weren’t really taking care of themselves. She absently mindedly noted to keep her food stores stocked in case these shared meals were going to be frequent.

As dinner was wrapped up, Thea asked Tommy and Tubbo to help feed her wolves and check on the farm. The two eagerly dashed away from escaping dish washing duties. Wilbur rolled up his sleeves and politely helped Thea clean up the table and take them to the kitchen.

Thea washed the dishes after thanking Wilbur, offering him another cup of tea. The man leaned against the nearest window seat, watching outside where he saw Tommy and Tubbo running around outside, partly doing Thea’s request while also playing. Fenrir and Lupa accompanying them.

Everything was peaceful and Wilbur didn’t know when he last felt so close to contentment. At peace. His eyes were tired and he quietly realized he wasn’t taking care of himself.

He sipped his tea when he heard a soft melody. His ears prickled at the noise, his musician side of him instantly intrigued.

He found his legs walking quietly towards the source of the music and over the corner, he saw and heard Thea singing. It wasn’t a full song nor was it perfect. It was a mixture of singing of lyrics and hums when she didn’t remember it. Her voice cracked every so often but Wilbur knew those were from the lack of warm-up.

Wilbur found himself drifting off, eyes closing to focus on the singing and then there was peace for a moment.

Thea had finished washing up and walked out of the kitchen, drying her hands as she did. She went to check on Wilbur, half-expecting him to have walked back to L’manburg with the boys.

Instead, she saw Wilbur slumped against the nearest place. She stiffened and checked on him, noticing his eyes were closed, with soft breaths rhythmically. The teacup loosely wrapped in his hands that threatened to spill if any more loose.

She stared at Wilbur, bewildered on how he was sleeping there before she thought what to do next. Waking him up was definitely out of the question, remembering how tired he was, and begun to think if she could move him.

She looked at her hands, flexing them as if it would tell her how strong she was.

A moment and two passed before she took in a deep breath and further rolled her sleeve up. She bent down and took the cup away, moving it to the side somewhere before slipping her hands under him.

She paused, readying herself, before slowly but surely lifted Wilbur. He was much, much longer then she was, so she had to balance him while her arms strained. She held him up for a moment, seeing if he would wake up but the soft snores reassured her.

Sighing in her mind, Thea walked to the stairway, just as Tommy and Tubbo had come in. They looked at her bewildered, mouths wide open with shock. She ignored them, figuring they would follow her or stay there. She didn’t care as she had bigger problems.

She reached the bedroom floor, noting the green and red beds already there with her pink one. She went to her pink bed, carefully depositing Wilbur into it and drew the blanket, tucking him. The person now occupying her bed was unaware and undisturbed. If anything, he snuggled further, sighing in content.

Thea smiled and had her hands on her hips, taking a moment to breathe. She could lift someone to bed, but barely.

She turned to the stairway to talk with Tommy and Tubbo, but saw their heads peeking out of the stairway. She rose an eyebrow but gestured to their beds, hoping they got her question.

They all nodded and quietly but quickly made their way to their beds, taking off their outer clothes and armor before slipping in. Thea hummed, checking on them if they were settled (while absentmindedly tucking them in further and patting their heads) before closing her home.

When she was sure the place was secure, her wolves followed her as she took off her armour and placed a blue bed near the others and slipped into bed. Her wolves cuddled around her as she sighed, eyes heavy with sleep.

She listened to the room, hearing Tubbo and Tommy’s breathes starting to settle and Wilbur’s soft snoring. Thea closed her eyes, feeling sleep pull her in. Before she let the darkness claim her, she spoke.

“Good night, sweet dreams.”

The boys muttered back quietly and Thea fell asleep, the darkness no longer silent but simply, quiet.

#dsmp fanfiction #dsmp fic #dsmp sona #dsmp oc #dsmp fanfic #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp fanfic #minecraft fic #minecraft oc

2 notes · View notes

amusedyan · 5 years

Text

Mother of Legacies

So this was a collab between @hearteyes-candyskies and me! We worked out the plot together and she was kind enough to give me a list of yandere Greek myths for inspiration. We hashed out a lot of this and she was so helpful in picking out the details.

Special thanks to my good friend @lightautumnsky for taking a look at this for me and giving me her opinion- you’re amazing and I owe you big for this.

One more disclaimer; normally I go out of my way to keep my darlings and reader inserts as neutral as possible. Everyone deserves to be a darling no matter gender or race. However, because a lot of Io’s importance is because of her bloodline, I had to keep her female. I’m very sorry, but that’s how this had to happen.

tw: implied forced pregnancy

Your legs ache as you climb the mountain. Your hooves are uncertain in the stone as you journey upwards, and you huff with exhaustion. The sun beats down on your hide and your tongue lolls- you’d never thought to miss sweat before.

Overhead and forward some distance an eagle screeches, and you shudder instinctively. But there is no lightning crossing the sky, and no boom of thunder, and so you continue on.

You make steady ground and in the distance you see him, and you breathe in peace.

You’re so close.

The Adversary, chained to the mountain; beneath his sunburn he is frighteningly pale, with matted dark hair and haunted eyes. He tracks your progress as you approach. There is a gaping, scabbed wound in his side, bleeding sluggishly.

Everyone knows the story- once an ally with the Lord of the Sky, he’d disobeyed to serve humanity. For his insolence, Zeus had stripped his name and chained him to the mountains, his eagle set upon him to tear out his liver every day.

You are so tired, but you’re made the journey, and you feel you deserve a rest, setting yourself down at his feet and looking up at him patiently.

“You’re no normal cow, are you?” He asks bluntly, peering down at you. He doesn’t seem surprised. You shake your head no- and he nods. “Transformation?” You nod in assent. “Nice to know they haven’t changed.”

You want to ask, but he laughs a little. It’s distinctly unamused. “I can understand you. Don’t worry. Now, the details?”

“I don’t quite know where to begin.” You admit carefully. The Eagle is nearby, and you aren’t sure if it’s just an eagle.

The titan catches where you look and assures you that it’s just an eagle. “A pet, that’s all. Let’s begin this way- what have you come for?”

“Do you have a name?” You ask first. “I need to call you something.” Are you imagining the slight quirk of the titan’s lips.

“L. It’s close enough to what was stolen.”

So you begin.

Your name was Io. Is it still? Who knows, a cow can’t introduce herself.

You were a priestess to Hera, but before that you were a princess, princess of Argos. You’d not wanted to marry, and so your parents had bought you a place in the temple, and you had devoted yourself to worship.

That life spoke to you, and you had friends in your sister priestesses, and went about your duties happily- you cleaned your section of the temple, you helped prepare meals, occasionally you even assisted with the sacrifices to the Goddess herself. You would stand behind the senior priestess as she prayed watch the smoke from the altar drift to the sky and think in this I am happy.

Your life continued this way for months, until winter came, and with it came Gamelion- the month blessed for marriage. Engaged women and mothers of the brides and their grooms flocked to the temple to pray for wealth, happiness and love.

Among the ceremony were the plays- plays dedicated to the marriage of your Gods. The performers reenacted the marriage and courtship of the pantheon, and as always, Mighty Zeus ad Hera were among the most frequent.

The temple kept cuckoos for their own performances, and you loved the birds. Only the most senior priestesses were tasked with their care, but you liked to be around them when you had the time.

It was your duty one morning to prepare the altar- you cleaned it and offered your prayers to Hera. You lit incense and kept your voice pitched low. The fruit offered- the finest of oranges- filled the room with it’s citrussy scent. All the smells made your nose itch.

Your eyes were closed when it happened; all you felt was heat. The light was visible through your eyelids, like you were looking straight at the sun when you’d closed them. There was no noise, no smells, nothing- just the light.

When it was gone, the worshippers in the chamber were gaping at you with awe, and your robes were dusted with gold. The offerings to Hera, you realized with growing horror, were gone- replaced by pomegranates.

--------

“So you were blessed by Zeus.” L interrupts. You nod.

“That’s what the High Priestess said, anyway.”

“How did you feel?”

“Afraid.”

“Oh?”

“Zeus blessed a priestess devoted to Hera in Her own temple while she stood before Hera’s altar.” You elaborate with one more shudder. L hums, and you can see that his fingers twitch.

“And everyone knows what happens to Light’s conquests.” He says quietly, and you frown, as much as you can.

“Light?”

“Continue, Io.”

ii.

One night, soon after, there was a thunderstorm. You lied in your bed, shivering beneath your blankets.

You’d grown up sharing a room with your sisters; the single accommodation afforded to you as a Priestess left you lonely on nights like that. Your youngest sister had been frightened of thunder, and often joined you in your bed to keep from crying out and waking the others.

“It’s only Zeus, little one,” Mother would promise when she caught you both, smiling a little, then leading your sister back to her own bed. “Nothing to fear.”

Lightning arced across the sky with a boom.

Nothing to fear indeed.

You shivered and tucked your blanket under your chin.

Storms had never scared you like this.

But then, you reflected, never had you been in a position where the Lord of Storms had blessed you.

The gold hadn’t come off those robes, and it had taken the temple’s strongest soap to remove it from your skin.

Outside your window, the tree shook with the force of the wind, and the chill crept in.

Sleep was long coming that night, and it didn’t come easy. Dreams were too much to ask, but sleep you finally did, even with the noise of rivaling the falling of the sky happening outside.

In the morning a bowl of acorns lay on your sill innocently, even if they were all but innocent.

----

“That must have been frightening.”

By now night was falling, and the first of the stars were lit.

“Oh very much. I nearly screamed. But then I’d have woken the others and that’s not fair to them.” You explained. With night falling the flies had finally ceased tormenting you, and you can finally relax.

“What was Misa’s opinion?”

It shouldn’t shock you, L knowing Hera’s second name. He’d once walked with them before his betrayal.

“I received no sign or omen in warning.” You can’t help the bitterness.

By now, the wound in L’s side has nearly healed completely.

You hope to be gone before morning, or at least before the torment begins again.

“What was the High Priestess’ opinion of these occurrences?”

iii.

“Have you actually seen Him?” High Priestess Agnete demanded.

“Of course not! Would I still be here if I had?” You demanded before you could stop yourself. The slap was painful, but not unexpected, and you bowed your head in apology.

“So Zeus has just been...sending you gifts?” And you could actually hear the derision in her voice. Or contempt?

“I know how it sounds, ma’am.” You promised.

“Do you? Because it sounds to me that an under priestess, one who’s hardly belonged to the temple longer than perhaps a fortnight,” and that wasn’t fair- you’d been here more than a year and she damn well knew it, “is claiming that the Lord of the Sky is attempting to court you.”

Court you? Was she serious?

Who in their right mind believed Him capable of courting anyone besides His wife?

Zeus seduced. He did not court.

“I understand,” you tried again, trying to keep the nervousness from your hands, “how it sounds, but I swear-”

“Say no more or risk punishment for your lies.”

“And the gold?” You demanded, “even you agreed that that was a sign from Him, didn’t you? And oak-”

“A blessing and nothing more. Zeus’ holy tree is the oak- I don’t believe acorns count toward anything significant, Io. Now, if you don’t mind-”

You had a split moment to wonder if Agnete was being thick on purpose, perhaps playing up her ignorance to stay out of matters larger than her, when a screech rendered the air and made both of you look up.

Agnete scrambled back as a sceptre, long and golden, emblazoned with the mark of Light, embedded itself in the ground at your feet. It was nearly as tall as you, slim and well crafted.

To your left there was the fluttering of wings, and an eagle seated itself on the garden wall, watching you with eyes unblinking.

Agnete had whimpered, and you couldn’t help but feel smug satisfaction at being proven right.

-----

“I take it that things got worse after that?”

The moon cast shadows on L’s face, and your new eyes had poor sight in the dark. You might have missed his face entirely if not for the shine of moonlight from his eyes. You wonder if he can see you clearly with his hair hanging in his face like that.

“Not at first.”

“Were there any more gifts?”

Gifts, and you couldn’t resist a laugh.

“No. None. I’d gotten the message.”

“But you refused him?”

“Yes. I was a priestess. It was out of the question already.” Besides, Zeus had never turned up to try and goad you into it. Or force, as it were. Your stomach growls. Nothing can be done- the mountain is barren, there’s nothing to graze here.

iv.

Your sister Priestesses were dying.

It was late, and you were praying feverishly.

You hadn’t slept in several days, nor eaten.

As they walked about, as they prayed, as they did their chores, they were dropping dead like flies with nothing to forewarn what was happening. The old, the young, the experienced and the newly initiated. Agnete had gone first, and of them, only she had seemed to be in pain.

“Hera, Mother and Wife, Patron of This Holy Temple, to You I Pray,” you whispered, on your knees with your head to the stone floor. You’d been at this for hours. The words were blurring together, and the smoke of the incense was so thick you could hardly see.

“Rise, Mortal,” a soft voice called, “and gaze upon your Patron.”

Misa, Queen and Mother. She was small and golden haired, dressed in elegant blues and greens, with a crown upon her head and a silver scepter in hand.

You looked at her and you saw Power. You were in the presence of a God, and never before had you felt so small.

“Lady Misa.” You whispered. She nodded.

“Many names have I, Mortal. But you know that, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer; this was all relative. You were in danger. You knew you were in danger.

Misa stepped forward and looked you over. Her eyes were cold as the sea- you were nothing to her, a catalyst to her cult’s destruction at the hands of her husband.

“Zeus pursues you, mortal, though I’m sure you’re aware.”

You swallowed.

“Yes, My Lady.”

She began to circle you, silently as a cat. You couldn’t bear to look in her eyes.

“Never before has my husband been so...brazen, as to pursue a priestess belonging to me. In my own temple.” Was that anger or pain that made the slight Goddess flinch. “He strikes down my own worshippers even.” She tsked, “all for you.”

“My Lady,”

“My Husband pursued me once. With great zeal. But I had something he wanted then. Now you’ve caught his eye. It won’t last long, but until then, you cannot stay here.”

Her sceptre clapped upon the ground and you felt something akin to nausea take you over from the inside out. You stared up at her, even as your flesh changed and your bones turned. There was no pain, just horror.

“Leave my Temple, Io. In this form, Zeus will not find you. I suggest you make use of that gift.”

And then Misa was gone.

“Is that the end of it?” Asked L. The sun was beginning to peak over the valley below, but the light had yet to touch the mountains. The titan’s side was healed by now.

“Yes. You’re said to be the wisest besides Athena, and you have the gift of Prophecy. Is there any way to undo what was done to me, L?” The name is strange and foreign on your tongue.

L looks south, towards Mount Olympus.

“I spoke the truth to Men before. I Saw what he would become, and I tried to mitigate the damage. For that betrayal he hunted my brothers and sisters and stripped me of my name, chained me to this mountain and tortures me day after day with his damned bird.” His expression equal parts bitter and sad, but when he looks at you he is angry.

“Go South. Beyond the sea is a Land of Sand and Fire, there, there are magics unlike ours. You will find a way to return to your former body. But be warned, Priestess. Should Zeus find you he will get what he wants. And from your unions a bloodline cursed and blessed shall be born. Blessed with the weakness of their dam and cursed with the madness of their progenitor; a line of heroes and kings and monsters.”

The eagle opens its eyes and with a screech descends upon L’s side with a vengeance.

You do not thank the titan, but you do offer a prayer that he might be freed some day.

vi.

It’s a long journey to the South.

You are so tired you can hardly stand, but the sand beneath your feet is undeniable, and you could weep for joy.

From there it’s a blur of heat and confusion. You cannot speak, and never before has this land seen a cow quite like you. Common enough for Greece, but not here.

You are taken to a palace where you are fed and watered and given shelter.

By morning, the court sorcerer has seen you, declared you to be enchanted, and broken Misa’s hold on you.

It’s quite embarrassing; a beautiful woman, naked in the royal stable. But the sorcerer calls for clothing and soon you’re dressed in fabrics so lovely that they might as well be gossamer on your skin for how soft they are.

You spend that night in a bedroom fit for royalty, and you allow yourself to be pampered for the first time in ages.

The King requests that you join him for the evening meal, and you arrive, presenting yourself as the Princess that you are, since you are no longer a Priestess.

Seated on a strange throne is a young man about your age. He watches you with eyes too red and hair of chestnut, but to look at his face is to see a clever face that you have known.

Light, Lord of Storms, Lord of the Skies.

Zeus, King of the Gods.

“Hello, darling.”

He stands and descends, taking your hands in his when he reaches you.

“You’ve come so far, I’m so proud! You did exactly what I thought you might.” His hand is soft on your cheek, thumb daring to touch your lower lip. In his eyes is greed and lust and pride.

“Did you know, sweet Io, that I overhear what my servants do? Gossip, knowledge, prophecy,” perhaps you might die now. Drop dead like the others.

But Light continues, unashamed, amused, even.

“Io, Mother of Legacies- it has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it, my darling?”

Are the walls closing in?

“And best of all, Hera can’t reach us here.”

His hand cups you middle, imagining the growth there.

“From you springs a dynasty.”

#death note #dn #light yagami #mythology #yandere #yandere death note #yandere dn #yandere light yagami #yandere mythology

252 notes · View notes

kewltie · 5 years

Text

“Do you think His Holiness had forgotten about us by now?” Tanel asks, brows furrowing in concern. “It has been over a week since he had last called upon the Fyre.” He bites down on his lower lip worriedly. “The Furie can’t keep ignoring His Majesty, right? Maybe the Fyre shouldn’t have to pick a fight with the Furie in the first place if he knows he can’t win. Nobody can out stubborn His Holiness.”

Ein frowns at him. “I see your mouth moving but I don’t see any work being done,” she snaps. “This room won’t clean itself.”

Tanel huffs. “There’s only two of us here, not counting on His Majesty, how are we supposed to clean this debilitating manor all by ourself anyway? Couldn’t His Majesty pick somewhere better to sulk in?”

Ein’s left eye twitch. “You brat--!” she starts, reaching toward Tanel but he quickly dodges her grabby hands and makes a dash for the door.

“Yea, okay, I’m going to clean now. In the other room, preferably,” he declares over his shoulder with a wave as he disappears completely beyond the entertaining chamber.

“Boys,” she mutters under breath in an aggrieved sigh. For a moment she does not let herself think of the other young man trapped within this manor, but at least his impose exile isn’t a punishment. Refusing to go back to Imperial Quarters or his own palace after his fight with the Furie, the Fyre had set up their new home in an abandoned manor just outside of the Inner Core of Lavaein.

It’s not the first time a consort of a Furie have left the Inner Core to live outside, but it was never at their own volition. It’s either from them having fallen out of favor or a rebuke of their misdeed, but their new Fyre had walked out on the Furie and had not looked back since.

Even a simple marital spat between spouses is elevated to new heights when it’s their Fyre and Furie, the god-king and his consort.

The Furie’s rules are absolute and he rules absolutely; he won’t bend, not to his subjects, not his friends or family, not to even the gods themselves, and certainly he won’t be cowed by his own husband either. The Fyre’s rebellion is written off as a childish tantrum by many and the whispers in the Inner Core all say the same thing, “it’s hopeless, the Furie won’t be moved.”

This isn’t a battle that the Fyre can hope to win out of sheer will, but even as the day turns into another night and still no words from the Furie, His Majesty remains staunch in his self-impose exile. Ein knows the new Fyre is quiet and unassuming upon first glance, but hidden behind that brittle smile is iron steel that can bear the full weight of their empire if only they let him.

By the eleventh day of the Fyre’s seclusion, a caravan of Imperial Guard and servants lug several large wooden chests into the courtyard of their manor as every members of their household gather out in front. “His Holiness requests the presence of the Fyre in the Imperial Quarters,” the head steward beseeches.

Several hands unlock and opens to the five chest to reveal a plethora of glittering jewelries in one, silk and high end fabrics in another, and artifacts of high values and important from various states across Kurenai in the last three. They are treasures beyond compare and they beckon the Fyre to come closer and be move the Furie’s magnanimous gesture.

The Fyre takes one look at them with uninterested eyes and quickly turns away. “Send it all back,” he says dismissively before walking back into his room to the disbelief of everyone in the courtyard.

After Ein kicks effectively kick everyone else out, Tanel walks up to her and whines, “Why didn’t the Fyre accept His Holiness’ apology gifts already?! He finally got the Furie’s attention, doesn’t that count for something?”

Ein flicks his forehead. “Not even,” she scolds. Tanel didn’t see the hope that had lit in the Fyre’s eyes for a moment before it quickly squashed out by the disappointment in the so called ‘gifts’. This isn’t what the Fyre wanted at all.

The Furie is the Master of Fate, King of Kings, Lord of the Hallows, and the Anointed One, yet in the matters of the heart is he is like a babe in the wilds.

On the twelve days, another caravan arrives at the footstep of their door but this time they bring several chests full of books from the Imperial Library. Books are forbidden from leaving the grounds of the Inner Core yet by the order of His Holiness the books are brought here, anyway.

The shallow gifts earlier had failed to gain the Fyre’s interest, but the books are another story.

Ein and everyone else holds their breath as the Fyre walks toward the open chest with a speculative look. “Leave those here,” the Fyre finally says, hands carefully combing over the cover of a large tome, “but you all may go.”

It’s another dismissal. Another failure as the Fyre remains in willful exile.

On the thirteen days, the caravan comes again but there’s no chest this time; a single edict. Ein and Tanel quickly fall on their knees, ready to receive the Furie’s proclamation but His Majesty steps forward and rips the scroll carrying the official words of the Furie from the steward’s hand. “Before he is my king, he is my husband,” the Fyre snaps, green eyes alight with the fire of defiance. “If he wants to say something, say it to my face.”

He takes the scroll with him as he storms back into his room in a huff, leaving them all horrified by his bold act. To reject an edict sent by the Furie is an act of treason, but their Fyre doesn’t seem to even have a drop of care.

“Are we going to be executed?!” Tanel whispers worriedly in her right ear.

She glares at him. “Be quiet.”

After coming out of his shock stupor, the steward quickly composes himself once more and not saying another word to either of them, he hurriedly rush out of the manor with the caravan.

In the next following days after the Fyre’s bold move, there were no more caravans or visitors to their manor. Anxiety reigns in their household with each passing day that they haven’t heard from the Furie. Even His Majesty’s carefully crafted mask of aloof indifference is starting crack under the weight of the disquiet. The Fyre’s rebellion may have pushed His Holiness too far and lost him altogether.

“His Majesty had offended the Furie, now we’ll never leave this place,” Tanel laments over dinner with the two of them as the Fyre went to bed early in a sour mood. Ein had caught him sitting by the window while his book was opened on his lap but his eyes drifted toward the east, beyond the walls of Inner Core where His Holiness reside in. Not even his beloved book could hold his interest for long, not when his longing was near palpable. “I didn’t think there exist anyone as stubborn as His Holiness. It’s like fire on fire.”

Unlike the last few times Tanel’s remarks had earned him her ire and rebuke, this time she couldn’t even argue.

On a boring and unexpected nineteen days since the Fyre had ran away, the doors of their manor is once again grace by visitors. This time there’s no caravan of soldiers and servants, no chests with elaborate gifts, and no steward to bring the personal words of the Furie to their doors because this time the Furie has personally come himself. It’s just him and his personal attendance.

Ein and Tanel quickly drop to the ground with their head pressed against it. “Your humble servant greets His Holiness,” they say. “May the sun rise upon your brilliance and the moon shines on your grace.”

“Rise,” the Furie grunts out, and they get back to their feet just in time to see the Furie stepping pass them without another word to meet the other person who had been quietly watching them.

“My lord,” the Fyre says, dry and humorless. Face carefully neutral, but his shoulders are tense and his hands are fisted at his side, like he’s gearing up for another battle.

The Furie takes a cautious step forward toward him, looking as though he has never felt more unsure than right at this moment. In the glaring lights of the day and in front of the one he had wronged, the Furie is but another young man just like the rest; human, fallible, and hesitant.

Seeing it all in action, it’s like witnessing two unstoppable objecting colliding. A collision is bound to happen, but nobody knows if the fallout is irreparable.

“The Imperial Quarters,” the Furie coughs into his hand as though to clear his throat as his eyes flit elsewhere for a second, “has been annoyingly quiet without your constant yammering so come back already.” He extents his right hand toward the Fyre and waits.

It’s not an outright apology nor a concession either, but it’s close enough. For the Furie to willingly come here to retrieve the Fyre himself that in itself is a bold statement. As proud and ornery as their Furie this was the equivalent of him lowering his head to ask for the Fyre back.

Ein’s heart is set alight with hope and warmth. They’re young and still new at this whole relationship thing that most take years and years to master, but they’re learning. Clumsily and full of mistakes, they reach toward each other because this bond is may not be their choice but in this way they choose each other.

Something in the Fyre’s break, the frigid cool indifference melting away to a slow creeping smile on his face. “You could have just said you miss me, my lord,” he teases, his voice thick with a merriment that Ein hasn’t heard in so many days.

“Don’t push it,” the Furie says tartly beside him. “I’m not coming here to pick you up if you run out on me again.”

The Fyre snorts in disbelief and even to Ein’s own ears that had sounded like a lie, but for now they’ll let him have it. After all sometimes marriage is about compromise, they both will soon learn.

#bakudeku #fic snippet #fic: incandescent nights

44 notes · View notes

not-a-space-alien · 5 years

Text

Into the Unknown, Part 13: Appraisal

Series masterpost

On AO3

Brothers, sisters, and siblings. The Lord works in mysterious ways. This letter is being delivered to announce the return of the archangel Uriel, the most Holy servant of the Most High, to reclaim her position in the Host. Arrange a meeting for me with the utmost haste, as I shall be return within a quarter of an hour.

This was the message sent ahead to Heaven, expertly written in Aziraphale’s careful calligraphy and delivered with enough haste to preclude anyone asking questions before the messenger absconded away. It was just ludicrous enough that it might get them to believe it.

If only they could have seen the flurry of activity that happened in the fifteen minutes following the letter’s reception.

Currently, Uriel was catching the tail-end of that flurry, standing outside the gates of Heaven and seeing the squad of angels mobilised to meet her. Victoria stood to her right, a pristine angelic sentinel in immaculate armor. They both had their wings out. They both, to an observer who had watched them fall 6,000 years ago, would be extremely intimidating.

Uriel had once watched a strange movie she didn’t entirely understand because she had heard Crowley liked the series quite a lot. It was Mission Impossible, and she was humming the theme to herself now.

It had a universally empowering type of energy to it.

“Thirty-nine minutes left,” said Victoria, consulting her watch. She rolled her sleeve back down to conceal it.

The gates creaked open. A cluster of warrior angels fanned out into a semicircle around the gates, and the familiar figure of Gabriel emerged from behind them. Kris, with a proper warrior archangel’s aura, followed behind him.

“Well, well, well,” said Gabriel, coming to a stop a dozen feet from Uriel. “I thought for sure that message must have been deception of some kind, and yet here you are… The prodigal daughter, back in her original state.”

The nice thing about Uriel, and what made her ideal for this particular errand, was that she had an impeccable sense of entitlement. And to go along with it, a penchant for convincing people that just maybe anything she said wasn’t quite as ludicrous as it sounded, simply because of the absolute dead-set confidence that she was always right with which she spoke. “A pleasure to see you, Gabriel,” said Uriel.

Gabriel’s eyes shifted over to Victoria. “And I see the archdemon Vycra has returned to us as well. This represents an interesting dilemma, though. There haven’t been more than seven archangels since before the Fall. This is an irregularity.”

“I’m aware,” said Uriel, striding forwards.

Kris moved his sword out to block her, but she knocked it aside with a sneer. “Please.”

Victoria followed Uriel as she waded through the angels, pushing them aside, and none of them were brave enough to stop her.

Gabriel and Kris watched, flabbergasted, before Gabriel shook himself and jogged to catch up to her. “Surely you must realise we can’t let you just walk in?” said Gabriel. “Clearly you’re an angel and not a demon, but you’re still the Adversary.”

“I have God’s favour,” said Uriel. “If you want proof, look to the fact that I am no longer Fallen. I am here for a special Divine purpose, and you shall not keep me from it.”

“And exactly what purpose might that be?” said Kris.

Uriel ignored him and lifted into the air, hovering about a dozen feet up. Just enough to get a sense of Heaven’s layout.

“This is unprecedented,” said Gabriel to her feet. “No angel has come back into God’s favour after falling from the Light.”

Uriel noted the layout was more or less the same as the Heaven she was used to, with the notable exception that the Judgement Hall and the Throne Room were arranged in a line, rather than side-by-side. Would the Book of Life still be kept in the Judgement Hall? Did they have anyone able to interact with it with Uriel gone?

“All will be made clear soon enough,” said Uriel, returning to the ground. She confidently strode forward, Victoria marching at her side, the other angels swirling around them like flabbergasted tumbleweeds.

“I assume you have called a meeting of the archangels in the Judgement Hall?” said Uriel.

“Yes,” said Gabriel, huffing with his jogging. “Kris and I came to escort you there.”

“Excellent,” said Uriel.

She stopped, her feet thumping on the cloudy street. Gabriel doubled over, panting. “The Judgement Hall is over here,” Kris offered helpfully.

“Right,” said Uriel. “I knew that, of course.”

Uriel changed course; the entourage of lesser angels followed them, whispering incredulously among themselves.

Victoria set the pace of the walk towards the Judgement Hall, walking much faster than anyone in Heaven ever did to eat up the hike as quickly as possible, forcing poor clerical angels to jog to keep up. When they were near, Victoria trotted ahead to get the doors. She leaned in to Uriel as she opened them and said in a low voice, “So far so good, just keep being completely insufferable. Twenty-nine minutes.”

Victoria pushed the enormous golden doors open, and they slid to the side and banged into the wall with a thundering boom. Victoria strode in, sword clacking against her armor, with Uriel not far behind, robes fluttering. Gabriel struggled to get ahead of them to take his seat, looking harried.

The remainder of the archangels were seated at their appropriates places on the bench, elevated and looking properly dignified. Metatron and Camael looked more or less like she was used to, and didn’t merit much attention. Agatha—the Archangel of Grace—known as Agares in their home universe: now there was a player she hadn’t considered very much. She had short, ruffled green hair and a hard face filled with piercings. Next to her sat Miriam—baby-faced Miriam, a facsimile of Maltha, lacking all the maturity and battled-readiness and ferocity that marked Uriel’s friend, looking soft and scared.

And there in the center was Lucifer, with his cascades of blonde hair and disapproving, crossed arms. His skin seemed translucent over a layer of liquid light inside him.

Victoria looked a little afraid of him. Uriel had never been afraid of anybody. She had never had the sense of smallness to feel it appropriate to be cowed by anyone, and she saw no reason to start now.

The Book of Life was conspicuously absent; in fact, the pedestal upon which it typically sat was non-existent here.

Kris and Gabriel rushed to take their places, bringing the number of other archangels they faced up to the full, proper seven.

LET US HEAR WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY, said Lucifer. GIVE US SOME CLARITY ON THIS HIGHLY UNUSUAL SITUATION.

Hearing Lucifer speak with his old voice sent a shiver through Uriel’s spine that fell just short of turning into some strong emotion. She shook herself and noted with dissatisfaction her position: she was down in the dais where a soul to be judged would traditionally be held, where the archangels could lord over them.

Uriel tried not to smirk, but she was sure none of these archangels would have before seen the inappropriate behaviour she was about to display, and she was finally just wicked enough to feel good breaking the rules.

Uriel spread her wings and leapt up onto the bench, flapping to spring up and plant her feet directly into Gabriel’s paperwork.

“Excuse me!” the Metatron gasped.

“You’re excused,” said Uriel. She strolled the length of the bench, putting one leg in front of the other languidly, savouring the upset on their faces.

“Speak your matter, demon,” demanded Camael. “This is still a house of the lord, and you shall respect it as such.”

Uriel stopped in front of Camael and squatted to be face-to-face with him. She patted his cheek. “I think you look better with a pair of horns, for the record,” she whispered. “It suits you.”

Camael stared at her.

“I have been blessed with divine favour from our Father the Most High,” Uriel said, standing and breaking out her booming Voice of Heaven voice. “He has raised me from the depths of Hell for a special purpose.”

She stopped in front of Metatron and let a note fall from her hand, then scooted it closer to him with her foot while making eye contact with Gabriel so he wouldn’t notice.

THEN REVEAL YOUR MISSION TO US, said Lucifer.

Metatron picked up the note and started to read it.

“I require the Book of Life,” said Uriel. “I am our Father’s specially crafted servant, the only one who can properly manage it.”

Metatron went pale as a sheet.

Agatha crossed her arms. “Satan, you expect to just walk in here and abscond with one of our most holy relics?”

“I am Satan no longer,” Uriel thundered. “I am highly favoured among man, demons, and angels.”

“We shall see,” said Metatron. “I shall take Satan—Uriel—to the Throne Room and let God pass judgement on her.”

The other archangels looked uneasy. “Metatron, are you sure?” said Miriam.

“Yes,” said Metatron, standing. “Let’s go.”

Metatron stood. The other archangels gathered themselves to follow. Metatron looked panicked and said, “No, I shall escort the Adversary to face her judgement alone.”

The other archangels looked at each other.

“But would it not be proper to have the Host there?” said Miriam.

“We are not one to question the Voice of God…” said Agatha.

“Then don’t,” said Metatron, hurrying out of the Judgement Hall, away from the questioning looks of the other archangels, and Uriel followed.

Victoria caught her eye as she exited and flashed her watch, which read 23:56 and counting.

The Metatron did not say a word until they reached the Hall housing the Throne Room, opening the enormous doors to the antechamber and scurrying inside.

Uriel stepped in behind them, and they pushed the doors shut, then whirled around, waving the note Uriel had dropped for them, which read I know God is dying, and I’ll tell everyone unless you let me have the Book. “How do you know about this?”

Uriel smiled. The group had put their brains together and guessed that, based on the state of the war efforts here, Heaven was probably trying to accelerate the pace for the same reason their own Heaven had. “It doesn’t matter how I know about it,” said Uriel. “Where is the Book of Life kept?”

“Something very strange is going on,” said Metatron. “I demand to know what.”

“You’ll get it back,” said Uriel. “I just need to use it for a few days. No harm will come to it.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t have time to elaborate.”

“I demand to know what’s going on.”

“I don’t have much time, Metatron. I can’t sit down and explain it all to you. I need it now.”

“Surely you don’t expect me to just give it to you?”

Uriel leaned in, scowling her best scowl. “I’ll tell you exactly what’s going to happen, Metatron. One of two things. One, I’m going to walk out of here with the Book of Life, and you’ll get it back in a few days’ time, unharmed, and you can continue on your way as though nothing had happened and forget this anomaly. Or two, we walk back to the meeting of archangels, I tell them all that not only is God not immortal, but He is currently dying, and the Metatron has been hiding it—”

Metatron opened their mouth to protest, but Uriel trucked on over them, “—and you get to watch the entirely Heavenly Kingdom dissolve into chaos, right when you’re on the cusp of war with Hell.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” said Metatron. “I don’t know who—or what—or when you are, because you’re clearly not Satan, but you can’t be the old Uriel either—but you would get no benefit from that. You wouldn’t dare do that.”

“I’m not invested in what happens to your Heaven. I could watch it all burn and not shed a tear. I’ve burned things I cared much, much more about without hesitation.”

Metatron shook.

“So what’ll it be?”

“The Book of Life is in there,” said Metatron, pointing a defeated finger at the closed doors demarcating the Throne Room.

“You keep the Book of Life in the Throne Room?” Uriel scoffed.

Metatron didn’t answer.

Uriel marched towards the door.

“Please remember it holds all of us,” said Metatron. “Don’t let us burn.”

Metatron walked out as Uriel grabbed the handles. Perhaps they just couldn’t bear watching her.

Uriel pulled the doors open.

Well, the Throne Room here was certainly bigger. The Throne Room in her home universe could by no stretch of the imagination be called small, but this one was extended into a hall, and the foremost chamber of it contained the pedestal upon which the Book sat, bathed in holy light.

And there was God, that pillar of fire and light upon the Throne, surrounded by angels and wheels of fire and clouds. He was pulsing painfully, dwindling, and Uriel felt his Divine Essence reach out to punish her for intruding but fall short, in His agony, in His death throes.

“What are you?” Uriel whispered. “What manner of Creature is this?”

A tendril reached out for her.

Uriel scurried forwards and lifted the Book of Life off the pedestal. “I just need to borrow this for a bit.”

She turned and dashed out as the room shook with a great roar. She sprinted out of the chamber, then out of the hall, slamming the doors behind her.

She slowed to a nonchalant walk when she reached the Judgement Hall. Luckily, Victoria was standing by the door, and the warrior spotted her and slipped out.

“Where are you going?” said Gabriel’s voice faintly, sounding affronted.

“I’ve got it,” Uriel said, sounding giddy. The volume took up practically her entire arm span and would have been impossible to miss.

“I see that,” said Victoria. “And we’ve got sixteen minutes to spare. Let’s blow this Popsicle stand.”

“Let’s what?”

“It’s just an expression.”

Uriel kept her pace and started walking towards the exit. Victoria clomped behind her, a hand on her back pushing her along. The sensation of the warm skin of Victoria’s hand through the sheer fabric of Uriel’s toga was oddly scintillating. “Faster.”

Uriel broke into a jog, her little-exercised legs struggling to keep up with Victoria’s demanding pace.

“The fastest I ever got to the gate from the Judgement Hall back home was four minutes,” said Victoria. “Do you want to try and beat that?”

Uriel’s eyes swept the path in front of her unsurely. “I suppose.”

Gabriel emerged from the Judgement Hall, looking at them hesitantly. The other archangels’ voices could be heard echoing behind him.

“You have a good grip on the Book?” said Victoria through the side of her mouth.

“Yes. Why?”

Kris appeared behind Gabriel. Victoria physically picked Uriel up, sprinting towards the gates.

Uriel probably should have been alarmed by the chase, but all she could seem to focus on was Victoria’s strong arms around her waist.

***************

“Come on, come on, come on,” said Aziraphale, checking his watch and shifting from foot to foot.

Aziraphale, they decided, should be the one they let Hell’s representative see, because he was the only angel they knew hadn’t fallen in this universe and that wouldn’t draw too many distracting questions. For now, they were only trying to convince Satan to bring Crowley up to them, so they could wait until then to bring out the surprisingly large guns to get the jump on her. Keeping the exact extent of their firepower secret until then was essential if they hoped to catch her off-guard.

So for now it was just Aziraphale at the meeting spot. The others were out of sight, but they were nearby enough that Hell’s representative would be able to tell someone else was here in case they got any funny ideas about mugging Aziraphale.

“The others” at this point, worrying, did not include Victoria and Uriel, because they still hadn’t returned with the Book of Life despite the countdown to the meeting pushing five minutes. Aziraphale stood empty-handed in the middle of a field of withered grass feeling quite silly, somewhat like a child with no money accompanying a parent to the grocery store when the parent runs off to attend to some last-minute business, and the items on the conveyor belt are approaching perilously close to the point of payment.

He had the same enchanted notepad Ramial had used earlier, and he wrote on it, What should we do if they don’t show up???

After a moment he got a reply back as the words Look up appeared on the notepad.

Relief flushed his system as he did so and spotted Victoria and Uriel flying towards him, the latter of whom carried an enormous tome. He ran over, spreading his arms. “Quickly! Quick!”

Uriel dropped the Book of Life into his arms. He staggered under the weight, which nearly floored him.

“You take good care of that, now,” said Uriel.

“Yes, yes,” said Aziraphale. “Go hide with the others.”

“Aziraphale, we got the Book,” said Victoria, “but Heaven wasn’t too happy about it. We lost them over the southern hemisphere on the way down, but we need to be ready for them to show up.”

Aziraphale cut her off with a head-jerk towards the hiding spot. “We’ll deal with that later, come on.”

The two archangels flew off to the hiding spot he indicated, just nearby enough for their auras to be felt, but far enough away not to be visible in that wide-open space. That left Aziraphale once again alone in the field.

He shifted under the uncomfortable weight of the Book, wondering how Uriel carried it so effortlessly. He set it gently on the ground between his legs, loathe to get the most precious book in the universe dirty, but unable to carry himself with any reasonable dexterity while holding it.

In his right hand, the notepad blossomed the words Here they come. He felt it then, too: the aura of an unfamiliar archdemon drawing near.

“Show yourself!” Aziraphale shouted.

An archdemon rose up from the ground beneath the dry underbrush, without any aplomb, as though they had simply been lying down in the field and decided to stand up.

She was a warrior, Aziraphale immediately saw, and her aura was just similar enough to Victoria’s for him to be able to tell who it was. “You must be the archdemon Vycra, I presume?”

The newcomer clomped through the weeds to come closer. She looked so much like Victoria, it was strange—those angry orange eyes marked her, though. As did the curious tattoo on her neck—it was an eye, with occult symbols intricately woven into its design. “And with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking, angel?”

Aziraphale had always hated it when any demon other than Crowley called him angel. They always said it with such malice and disdain, rather than Crowley’s affection, like they were different species entirely. “Aziraphale, Principality of Great Britain,” said Aziraphale. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“I’ve been sent up to confirm that you are in possession of the genuine Book of Life,” said Vycra.

“I am, as you can see,” said Aziraphale, both hands pointed to the Book on the ground beneath him.

The eye on Vycra’s neck flared to life. Aziraphale had to suppress a step back in surprise as the pupil began to move around. A new voice spoke out, “Vycra, let me see. Turn to the side so I can see better.”

Vycra obediently pivoted, drawing aside her long black hair to expose the eye better. The ink writhed under the enchantment, then went wide as if with surprise. “That’s it! That’s the real Book of Life! I don’t believe it!”

“We weren’t lying,” Aziraphale said. “As you can see. Now to discuss the matter of the exchange—”

“Vycra, take it.”

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. “You can’t just take it.”

Vycra looked at Aziraphale hesitantly. “My lord, I detect the presence of multiple archangels nearby, that would seem ill-advised.”

Aziraphale scribbled a warning on the notepad and immediately felt the auras of his companions hurtling towards him at lightning speed.

“Are you my servant or not?” Satan’s voice shrieked, and Vycra flinched at the proximity of the noise to her ears. “Your master desires that Book.”

Vycra stood and leaned away from Aziraphale. “My Lord, he has reinforcements.”

“All that stands between you and the Book of Life is one Principality right now. Cut him down and take it.”

Aziraphale’s eyes flew from Vycra’s tattoo to her face with terror.

Vycra let her hair fall. “That would be unwise.”

“It certainly would,” Aziraphale added.

“Why? Because you’d have to fight?” said Satan. “I command you to retrieve that Book, regardless of personal injury to yourself.”

Vycra faced away from Aziraphale and spread her wings. “I’m sure we’ll be in contact to negotiate,” she said over her shoulder.

“There will be consequences if you don’t do as I say!” Satan shrieked.

Vycra kicked off into the air, the wind from her wings buffeting into Aziraphale. Just as she disappeared behind a cloud, Mykas arrived beside Aziraphale, panting. “Are you okay? Where did she go?”

Aziraphale stood there sweating, shaking with the realisation of how close to death he had just come.

He started as he felt hands on his shoulders, and Maltha leaning in with a calming voice. “It’s okay. We’ve got you.”

“What happened?” said Victoria.

Aziraphale pushed his spectacles up his slick nose. “I—I do believe we’ve proved to Satan we have something she wants.”

#good omens #my writing #my good omens fanfic

9 notes · View notes

eclectic-witch-tarot-blog · 5 years

Text

Indian Magic: Intro

-Using a square woolen mat or kush mat instead of a circle. A woolen mat represents all elements. Wool grew on sheep, who breathed air, were alive which represents fire, ate what the earth produced and drank water. In addition the magic involves a fifth element, sky/ether. You sit on it. You’re the representation of the sky/ether.

-Using diyas. A diya is a terracotta dish, filled with oil or pure cow butter with a cotton wick in it which is then lighted for use instead of candles. The concept is that you add essential oils, that are sacred to the gods or goddesses that you’re calling, in the oil and burn it to attract them.

-Offering foods. Bananas are sacred to almost all gods and goddesses. Then there are gods who take weird offerings. Lotus for Lakshmi, Dhatura-which is poisonous-for Shiv, Shed feathers of a peacock for Krishn etc...

-River waters. Especially the River Ganga because she flows through all three universes-yes I said universes-and brings life to them all.

-Shankh (conch shell) is blown to purify the air of any lingering negative energies including shades and poltergeists.

-Ghanti, which is a bell that can be anywhere between the size of your index finger to the size of an elephant, is rung to indicate the wings of Garuda. Garuda is a giant eagle who carries Vishnu and Lakshmi in all their battles. He/she can also cut through snake venom and is the enemy of the King/Queen of Snakes. The sound is a primeval sound that scares anything that should not be there.

-Any water, including tap, that has a leaf of holy basil added to it becomes sacred.

-Camphor is burned to attract Shiv, the god of destruction and the arts.

-Any rhythmic sound, it could be something as simple as the clapping of hands or as difficult as beating a range of drums in sync, is used to underline urgency in a calling. The deities recognize this and come with all due haste.

-Chants and prayers specific to the god or goddess in question are used for different purposes.

-Talismanic stotras-which are sung at the top of your voice-when you need protection from an enemy/another deity/a curse you can’t conquer alone with your power.

-The thousand names of the god/dess is question which are spoken under the breath. This is used to summon them for any purpose. Make sure to have a food offering and water on hand. Shakta-the sect of the goddess- and Shaiva-the sect of Shiv, may be offered spirits. Vishnu and Lakshmi don’t accept liquor. Its forbidden in Vaishnavism. Fresh fruits and water are all rounders.

-Alternatively, if the matter is urgent and needs to be addressed yesterday, there are Hundred and Eight names of all deities that you can use to summon them. No matter the place or time. It is in the format “Om (name) namaha (pronounce: nuh-muh-huh)”. You will know they have answered when you smell a distinct fragrance in the air.

-Mantras accompanied by yagya-a raised square fire pit, set slight with woods, to which ghee-cow butter-is added on every interval. Mantras are more about a specific purpose. To bring someone back from the verge of death, to make a golem, to vanquish an enemy in battle, for binding a shade who’s been haunting a house, to lift a curse, to appease a planet etc. After every mantra, you add ghee to the fire and its consumed by the deity in question. From there its customized. Rich foods are burned, incense specific to the deity, essential oils cherished by the deity etc....the results are swift. Literally. Like not even hours pass by before you have what you want.

-Animal sacrifices are not acceptable in Vaishnav, Smart (sm-arth) or Saurya (So-ryuh) paths.

-Water-to which holy basil is added-can purify anything. This is the reason why all Hindu houses have a tulsi plant in their house. Sprinkle it around your house. Drink it. Put it on your clothes. Holy basil is the sage of Indian craft.

-Marigold, red rose and jasmine are standard flower offerings when you don’t know the specifics. All deities will accept them with pleasure.

-Colors. Red for Lakshmi-wealth, health and prosperity. Yellow for Vishnu/Krishn-compassion, healing, nurturing, vanquishing enemies in battle. White for Shiv and Sarasvati-peace, destruction, arts, miracles, writing, music sex. Blue for Radha-the goddess of all sixty-four arts and love. The list goes on. Rule of thumb-use red or yellow cloth when uncertain.

-Take a cotton cloth the size of a handkerchief dyed with the specific color, add seeds of the flowers or dried flowers sacred to the deity in question, a leaf/leaves of holy basil, a drop of fragrance oil sacred to the deity, perform rites over this and close the kerchief with a knot or any number of knots in odd number. This bundle is now energized and has the energy of the god in it. Put the Lakshmi bundle in your wardrobe/locker/purse where you keep money or important documents. Vishnu bundle at your altar. Shiv bundle near your bed. Radha bundle in your studio etc etc...You can use this in conjunction with the deities that you work with.

-Wear a tulsi (tool-see) mala. This keeps your body ready to perform any ritual at any time. Indian rituals revolve around bathing for purification, performing rites on an empty stomach to help your chakra energy flow unhindered and wearing an unbleached cotton cloth called aboat (uh-boat), which has not been sewed or otherwise manipulated by anything or anyone. By wearing a tulsi mala, you bypass these requirements and restrictions. Cuz you ready for ritual at all times.

-Rituals are traditionally performed at dawn, dusk or midnight, depending on deity’s preference. Shiv and his many incarnations and the goddesses-all goddesses-prefer night.

-Altars are kept in all homes. Its a mini-mandir-a temple-in which all your deities’ idols sit. You sit them on top of a silk/cotton cloth that has been sprinkled with, you guessed it, holy basil water. You can also use a stool top, a table top etc covered with silk/cotton. That’s what I do.

-Milk, yogurt, honey and ghee baths are given to the figurine of the deity you’re calling on, fragrance oils are rubbed on and offerings presented to them as you would present to the deities themselves if they were there in person, to please them and keep their energy around on hand everyday.

-You yourself bathe in milk, yogurt, honey and ghee followed by a thorough rinsing by water, before performing high rituals like yagyas. The modern witch can just add half a liter of milk, a pint of yogurt, a few drops honey and ghee to their bath or the pail instead. Cuz we all broke as fuck.

-Food that has been offered to the deity in a ritual is consumed by the crafter afterwards.This food is blessed by the deity and infused with your purpose.

-Anything-jewellery, new sketchbooks, art materials, paints, pencils, chalks, candles-can just be placed on the altar for the blessings of all your deities. I keep em their overnight.

-LUNAR CALENDAR

-The stotras/mantras/names that you use the most should be copied in a pothi-a handmade book bound with red cloth, written down in red ink with a brush or quill. Its like a book of shadows really. The modern witch can use any red covered book and write in it in red pen, I recommend fountain but anything works. The color red is where its at.

These are the tips I have for now. I incorporate them in my practice/crafting. I don’t exclusively practice Indian magic, rather a mixture of Hoodoo, Norse/Germanic magic, Japanese/Chinese magic, Balinese, Hawaiian and Fijian practices and I add more ideas from other cultures as I go. So yeah. You can use these ideas in your practice or just use this as reference for when you’re incorporating Indian deities in your practice.

149 notes · View notes

fuckhellimgoingtovallhalla · 6 years

Text

The Norse creation myth or cosmogony (an account of the origins of the cosmos) is perhaps one of the richest in all of world literature. First, let’s look at this exceptionally colorful story itself, then consider how the Vikings may have interpreted it and found meaning in it.

The Origin of the Cosmos

Before there was soil, or sky, or any green thing, there was only the gaping abyss of Ginnungagap. This chaos of perfect silence and darkness lay between the homeland of elemental fire, Muspelheim, and the homeland of elemental ice, Niflheim.

Frost from Niflheim and billowing flames from Muspelheim crept toward each other until they met in Ginnungagap. Amid the hissing and sputtering, the fire melted the ice, and the drops formed themselves into Ymir (“Screamer”), the first of the godlike but destructive giants. Ymir was a hermaphrodite and could reproduce asexually; when he slept, more giants leapt forth from his legs and from the sweat of his armpits.

As the frost continued to melt, a cow, Audhumla (“Abundance of Humming”), emerged from it. She nourished Ymir with her milk, and she, in turn, was nourished by salt-licks in the ice. Her licks slowly uncovered Buri (“Progenitor”), the first of the Aesir tribe of gods. Buri had a son named Bor (“Son”), who married Bestla (perhaps “Wife”), the daughter of the giant Bolthorn (“Baleful Thorn”). The half-god, half-giant children of Bor and Bestla were Odin, who became the chief of the Aesir gods, and his two brothers, Vili and Ve.

Odin and his brothers slew Ymir and set about constructing the world from his corpse. They fashioned the oceans from his blood, the soil from his skin and muscles, vegetation from his hair, clouds from his brains, and the sky from his skull. Four dwarves, corresponding to the four cardinal points, held Ymir’s skull aloft above the earth.

The gods eventually formed the first man and woman, Ask and Embla, from two tree trunks, and built a fence around their dwelling-place, Midgard, to protect them from the giants.

Order from Chaos

Thematically, Ymir is the personification of the chaos before creation, which is also depicted as the impersonal void of Ginnungagap. Both Ymir and Ginnungagap are ways of talking about limitless potential that isn’t actualized, that hasn’t yet become the particular things that we find in the world around us. This is why the Vikings described it as a void (as have countless other peoples; consider the “darkness upon the face of the deep” of the first chapter of Genesis, for example). It is no-thing-ness. But it nevertheless contains the basic stuff out of which the gods can make true things – in this case, the primal matter is Ymir’s body, which the gods tear apart to craft the elements.

It’s extremely fitting for Ymir to be the progenitor of the giants, for this is the general role the giants occupy in Norse myth. They are the forces of formless chaos, who are always threatening to corrupt and ultimately overturn the gods’ created order (and at Ragnarok, they succeed). But the giants are more than just forces of destruction. In the words of medievalist Margaret Clunies Ross:

Characteristically […] the gods covet important natural resources which the giants own, then steal them and turn them to their own advantage by utilising them to create culture, that is, they put the giants’ raw materials to work for themselves. These raw materials are of diverse kinds and include intellectual capital such as the ability to brew ale as well as the cauldron in which it is made, and abstractions made concrete like the mead of poetry and the runes of wisdom.

Not only does Ymir fit this pattern; mythologically speaking, his death and dismemberment is the paradigmatic model for this pattern.

This also explains why Ymir is depicted as a hermaphrodite who can reproduce on his own asexually. Differentiation, including sexual differentiation, didn’t exist yet. The gods had to create that as part of their task of giving differentiated forms to what had previously been formless and undifferentiated. Various other creation myths from other peoples have used a hermaphroditic being to illustrate this same concept, so we can be confident that this is also what the Norse meant here – despite the superficial counterexample of Audhumla and her udder. (After all, Norse mythology was never an airtight system.)

Ymir’s name provides an additional – and rather poetic – instantiation of this role as the personification of primordial chaos. Recall that Ymir’s name means “Screamer” (from the Old Norse verb ymja, “to scream”). The scream, the wordless voice, is the raw material from which words are made. By taking formless matter – represented by Ymir’s body – and giving it form, the gods were, metaphorically speaking, making words out of a scream.

The metaphor is completed by the description of the act of creation in the Old Norse poem Völuspá. There, the verb used for the action by which the gods create the world is yppa, which has a range of meanings: “lift, raise, bring up, come into being, proclaim, reveal.” The primary sense in which yppa should be understood here is “to come into being,” but note the additional shade of “to proclaim.” Given the poetic symmetry with Ymir’s name, this is surely not coincidental. The gods proclaim the world into being as they sculpt it out of the Screamer’s corpse.

The Centrality of Conflict

The Vikings, like the other ancient Germanic peoples, were and are notorious for their eagerness for battle. It should come as little surprise, therefore, that conflict is such a central theme in their creation myth – and that conflict is itself a generative force.

Ymir is born from the strife between fire and ice – and we can surmise that that particular opposition would have had a special poignancy for people living what was more or less a subsistence lifestyle in the cold lands of Scandinavia and the North Atlantic.

In order for the gods to fashion the world, they must first slay Ymir. This is the first intentional taking of a life in the universe, and it’s performed by the gods themselves. It isn’t presented as a crime or a sin, as in the Biblical myth of Cain and Abel. Rather, it’s a good and even sacred task. This isn’t to say that the Norse valorized killing as such; clearly, they distinguished between lawful and appropriate killing and unlawful and inappropriate killing. But they embraced what they saw as the necessity of having a warlike approach to life, for the sake of accomplishing great deeds that brought honor and renown to one’s name.

Of course, gods forming the world from the corpse of a being of chaos is a fairly common element in myth. But the precise set of meanings contained in such an act varies from culture to culture. Surely this glorification of honorable aggression, and its status as the defining act that makes the world what it is, were central components of the meaning the Vikings found in their particular myth.

Both Giants and Gods Define the World

The Norse saw their gods as the “pillars” and “vital forces” that held the cosmos together. When the gods created the world, they imparted both order and sanctity to it. And since the Norse gods are frequently portrayed intervening in the world’s affairs, their gifts to the world weren’t thought to end with creation. Their defining role in the cosmos was thought to continue as long as the cosmos itself continued – that is, until Ragnarok.

And yet, since the world was formed from the corpse of a giant, it would seem that the world is what it is largely due to the influence of the giants as well. Aspects of Ymir – his might, his uncouthness, his tendency toward entropy, the ambivalence of his character – remained present in the world, even after the gods had shaped it in accordance with a different set of traits and aims. The giants, too, were thought to intervene in the world; the slaying of their ancestor by no means vanquished them.

In the Norse view, the world is a battleground between the gods and the giants, whose power is more or less evenly matched. Mankind is in the middle, torn between the opposing claims of holiness, order, and goodness on the one hand, and profaneness, chaos, and wickedness on the other. This tension is ceaseless because it’s been a feature of the world itself since its very beginning. The strife will only be alleviated by Ragnarok, when the world will be destroyed altogether, and nothing will remain but the stillness and darkness of a new Ginnungagap.

Source:https://norse-mythology.org/tales/norse-creation-myth/

#norse gods #norse mythology #norse paganism #norse polytheism #pagan #paganism #odin #ymir #creation myth #creation #vili #ve

17 notes · View notes

hoffdogg · 5 years

Photo

THE CREATION OF THE COSMOS Ymir being slain by Odin and his brothers (Lorenz Frølich) The Norse creation myth or cosmogony (an account of the origins of the cosmos) is perhaps one of the richest in all of world literature. First, let’s look at this exceptionally colorful story itself, then consider how the Vikings may have interpreted it and found meaning in it. The Origin of the Cosmos Before there was soil, or sky, or any green thing, there was only the gaping abyss of Ginnungagap. This chaos of perfect silence and darkness lay between the homeland of elemental fire, Muspelheim, and the homeland of elemental ice, Niflheim. Frost from Niflheim and billowing flames from Muspelheim crept toward each other until they met in Ginnungagap. Amid the hissing and sputtering, the fire melted the ice, and the drops formed themselves into Ymir (“Screamer”[1]), the first of the godlike but destructive giants. Ymir was a hermaphrodite and could reproduce asexually; when he slept, more giants leapt forth from his legs and from the sweat of his armpits. As the frost continued to melt, a cow, Audhumla (“Abundance of Humming”[2]), emerged from it. She nourished Ymir with her milk, and she, in turn, was nourished by salt-licks in the ice. Her licks slowly uncovered Buri (“Progenitor”[3]), the first of the Aesir tribe of gods. Buri had a son named Bor (“Son”[4]), who married Bestla (perhaps “Wife”[5]), the daughter of the giant Bolthorn (“Baleful Thorn”[6]). The half-god, half-giant children of Bor and Bestla were Odin, who became the chief of the Aesir gods, and his two brothers, Vili and Ve. Odin and his brothers slew Ymir and set about constructing the world from his corpse. They fashioned the oceans from his blood, the soil from his skin and muscles, vegetation from his hair, clouds from his brains, and the sky from his skull. Four dwarves, corresponding to the four cardinal points, held Ymir’s skull aloft above the earth. The gods eventually formed the first man and woman, Ask and Embla, from two tree trunks, and built a fence around their dwelling-place, Midgard, to protect them from the giants.[7][8][9][10] Order from Chaos Thematically, Ymir is the personification of the chaos before creation, which is also depicted as the impersonal void of Ginnungagap. Both Ymir and Ginnungagap are ways of talking about limitless potential that isn’t actualized, that hasn’t yet become the particular things that we find in the world around us. This is why the Vikings described it as a void (as have countless other peoples; consider the “darkness upon the face of the deep” of the first chapter of Genesis, for example). It is no-thing-ness. But it nevertheless contains the basic stuff out of which the gods can make true things – in this case, the primal matter is Ymir’s body, which the gods tear apart to craft the elements. It’s extremely fitting for Ymir to be the progenitor of the giants, for this is the general role the giants occupy in Norse myth. They are the forces of formless chaos, who are always threatening to corrupt and ultimately overturn the gods’ created order (and at Ragnarok, they succeed). But the giants are more than just forces of destruction. In the words of medievalist Margaret Clunies Ross: Characteristically […] the gods covet important natural resources which the giants own, then steal them and turn them to their own advantage by utilising them to create culture, that is, they put the giants’ raw materials to work for themselves. These raw materials are of diverse kinds and include intellectual capital such as the ability to brew ale as well as the cauldron in which it is made, and abstractions made concrete like the mead of poetry and the runes of wisdom.[11] Not only does Ymir fit this pattern; mythologically speaking, his death and dismemberment is the paradigmatic model for this pattern. This also explains why Ymir is depicted as a hermaphrodite who can reproduce on his own asexually. Differentiation, including sexual differentiation, didn’t exist yet. The gods had to create that as part of their task of giving differentiated forms to what had previously been formless and undifferentiated. Various other creation myths from other peoples have used a hermaphroditic being to illustrate this same concept,[12] so we can be confident that this is also what the Norse meant here – despite the superficial counterexample of Audhumla and her udder. (After all, Norse mythology was never an airtight system.) Ymir’s name provides an additional – and rather poetic – instantiation of this role as the personification of primordial chaos. Recall that Ymir’s name means “Screamer” (from the Old Norse verb ymja, “to scream”[13]). The scream, the wordless voice, is the raw material from which words are made. By taking formless matter – represented by Ymir’s body – and giving it form, the gods were, metaphorically speaking, making words out of a scream. The metaphor is completed by the description of the act of creation in the Old Norse poem Völuspá. There, the verb used for the action by which the gods create the world is yppa, which has a range of meanings: “lift, raise, bring up, come into being, proclaim, reveal.”[14] The primary sense in which yppa should be understood here is “to come into being,” but note the additional shade of “to proclaim.” Given the poetic symmetry with Ymir’s name, this is surely not coincidental. The gods proclaim the world into being as they sculpt it out of the Screamer’s corpse.[15] The Centrality of Conflict The Vikings, like the other ancient Germanic peoples, were and are notorious for their eagerness for battle. It should come as little surprise, therefore, that conflict is such a central theme in their creation myth – and that conflict is itself a generative force. Ymir is born from the strife between fire and ice – and we can surmise that that particular opposition would have had a special poignancy for people living what was more or less a subsistence lifestyle in the cold lands of Scandinavia and the North Atlantic. In order for the gods to fashion the world, they must first slay Ymir. This is the first intentional taking of a life in the universe, and it’s performed by the gods themselves. It isn’t presented as a crime or a sin, as in the Biblical myth of Cain and Abel. Rather, it’s a good and even sacred task. This isn’t to say that the Norse valorized killing as such; clearly, they distinguished between lawful and appropriate killing and unlawful and inappropriate killing. But they embraced what they saw as the necessity of having a warlike approach to life, for the sake of accomplishing great deeds that brought honor and renown to one’s name. Of course, gods forming the world from the corpse of a being of chaos is a fairly common element in myth. But the precise set of meanings contained in such an act varies from culture to culture. Surely this glorification of honorable aggression, and its status as the defining act that makes the world what it is, were central components of the meaning the Vikings found in their particular myth. Both Giants and Gods Define the World The Norse saw their gods as the “pillars” and “vital forces” that held the cosmos together. When the gods created the world, they imparted both order and sanctity to it. And since the Norse gods are frequently portrayed intervening in the world’s affairs, their gifts to the world weren’t thought to end with creation. Their defining role in the cosmos was thought to continue as long as the cosmos itself continued – that is, until Ragnarok. And yet, since the world was formed from the corpse of a giant, it would seem that the world is what it is largely due to the influence of the giants as well. Aspects of Ymir – his might, his uncouthness, his tendency toward entropy, the ambivalence of his character – remained present in the world, even after the gods had shaped it in accordance with a different set of traits and aims. The giants, too, were thought to intervene in the world; the slaying of their ancestor by no means vanquished them. In the Norse view, the world is a battleground between the gods and the giants, whose power is more or less evenly matched. Mankind is in the middle, torn between the opposing claims of holiness, order, and goodness on the one hand, and profaneness, chaos, and wickedness on the other. This tension is ceaseless because it’s been a feature of the world itself since its very beginning. The strife will only be alleviated by Ragnarok, when the world will be destroyed altogether, and nothing will remain but the stillness and darkness of a new Ginnungagap. https://norse-mythology.org/tales/norse-creation-myth/

2 notes · View notes

dfroza · 4 years

Text

A point of rebirth.

this is what is promised to us in beautiful earth becoming our safe & sound “Home” that will be illuminated by God’s pure Light. where everyone will be in Love. and this includes the rebirth of the body that will never die. it is our Creator’s narrative as Author of the universe. as King over every king and queen and everyone.

and we are invited to embrace this in humility, to welcome the entrance of grace as defined by the Son who the Spirit reveals to the heart, and the Son perfectly mirrors our Father.

the 27 verses of chapter 21 in John’s book of Revelation that reminds me of the alphabetic number 27 of the letters AKO on the Oklahoma license plate of my former Saturn Vue:

I looked again and could hardly believe my eyes. Everything above me was new. Everything below me was new. Everything around me was new because the heaven and earth that had been passed away, and the sea was gone, completely. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God, prepared like a bride on her wedding day, adorned for her husband and for His eyes only. And I heard a great voice, coming from the throne.

A Voice: See, the home of God is with His people.

He will live among them;

They will be His people,

And God Himself will be with them.

The prophecies are fulfilled:

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

Death will be no more;

Mourning no more, crying no more, pain no more,

For the first things have gone away.

And the One who sat on the throne announced to His creation,

The One: See, I am making all things new. (turning to me) Write what you hear and see, for these words are faithful and true. It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. I will see to it that the thirsty drink freely from the fountain of the water of life. To the victors will go this inheritance: I will be their God, and they will be My children. It will not be so for the cowards, the faithless, the sacrilegious, the murderers, the sexually immoral, the sorcerers, the idolaters, and all those who deal in deception. They will inherit an eternity in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.

And then one of the seven messengers in charge of the seven bowls filled with the seven last plagues came over to me.

Heavenly Messenger: Come with me, and I will show you the bride, the wife of the Lamb.

He took me away in the Spirit and set me on top of a great, high mountain. As I waited for what I thought was a bride, he showed me the holy city, Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God. It gleamed and shined with the glory of God; its radiance was like the most precious of jewels, like jasper, and it was as clear as crystal. It was surrounded with a wall, great and high. There were twelve gates. Assigned to each gate was a messenger, twelve in all. And on the gates were inscribed the names of the twelve tribes of Israel’s sons. On the east wall were three gates. On the north wall were three gates. On the south wall were three gates. On the west wall were three gates. And the city wall sat perfectly on twelve foundation stones, and on them were inscribed the names of the twelve emissaries of the Lamb.

My guide held a golden measuring rod. With it he measured the city and the gates and the walls. And the city is laid out with four corners in a perfect square, the length the same as its width. He measured the city with his measuring rod, and the result was that its length and width and height are equal: 1,444 miles, a perfect cube. And my guide measured the wall; it was nearly 72 yards high, in human measurements, which was the instrument the guide was using. The wall was made of jasper, while the city itself was made of pure gold, yet it was as clear as glass. The foundation stones of the wall of the city were decorated with every kind of jewel: the first was jasper, the second sapphire, the third agate, the fourth emerald, the fifth onyx, the sixth carnelian, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth chrysoprase, the eleventh jacinth, the twelfth amethyst. The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate expertly crafted from a single beautiful pearl. And the city street was pure gold, yet it was as transparent as glass.

And in the city, I found no temple because the Lord God, the All Powerful, and the Lamb are the temple. And in the city, there is no need for the sun to light the day or moon the night because the resplendent glory of the Lord provides the city with warm, beautiful light and the Lamb illumines every corner of the new Jerusalem. And all peoples of all the nations will walk by its unfailing light, and the rulers of the earth will stream into the city bringing with them the symbols of their grandeur and power. During the day, its gates will not be closed; the darkness of night will never settle in. The glory and grandeur of the nations will be on display there, carried to the holy city by people from every corner of the world. Nothing that defiles or is defiled can enter into its glorious gates. Those who practice sacrilege or deception will never walk its streets. Only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s Book of Life can enter.

The Book of Revelation, Chapter 21 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments with Revelation 21 is Numbers 22 where Balak, king of Moab, had repeatedly requested of Balaam to curse Israel for a large sum of money, and he would not do it. although God intervened in a miraculous way in the process to ensure this, even causing a donkey to get his attention:

[Numbers 22]

But they didn’t remain there. The Israelites traveled on to the Moabite plains, where they set up camp, just across the Jordan River, east of Jericho. The Moabite Balak (Zippor’s son) knew about the Israelites’ victory over the Amorites and what they had done there. Actually, everyone in Moab was terrified of the Israelites. And Moab hated the Israelites, because there were so many of them!

Moabites (to elders in the neighboring Midianite community): This voracious horde, these Israelites, will wipe us out without so much as a second thought. They’ll devour us and move through our land as a herd of hungry cows mows a field.

Balak (Zippor’s son), you’ll remember, was then the king of Moab. In the face of this threat, he sent messengers to the famous prophet Balaam (Beor’s son), who lived in a town that belonged to his country on the Euphrates River called Pethor. Balak wanted the prophet to come to Moab.

Moab’s Message (to Balaam): There is a group of people who came from Egypt and who have settled right near me. They cover the land with their numbers. Come quickly, and curse them for me. There’s no other hope that I have of defeating so many of them and driving the rest away. They’re too strong. But I know that whomever you bless is blessed, and whomever you curse is cursed.

So the messengers went—elders, actually, from both Moab and Midian—with money in hand, to pay the prophet to come back with them and curse the Israelites. They gave him Balak’s message.

Balaam (to the messengers): It’s been a long trip for you. Spend the night, and I’ll give you the prophecy the Eternal tells me.

So the Moabite and Midianite elders stayed overnight with Balaam. But God came in the night to Balaam and questioned him.

Eternal One (to Balaam): Who are these people staying with you?

Balaam: Messengers. Balak, the king of Moab and Zippor’s son, sent them to ask me for help on their behalf. He says that a certain people, coming from Egypt, seem to be taking over the land. He wants me to curse those people for him so he can fight them and make the survivors leave.

Eternal One: Don’t do it. The people whom Balak wants you to curse are already blessed.

So first thing in the morning, Balaam confronted Balak’s elders with the news.

Balaam: You’ll have to go back to your land without me. The Eternal has prohibited me from returning with you.

The Moabite contingent returned and told Balak that Balaam wouldn’t come. But Balak wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. He sent another, bigger contingent of even more highly esteemed men to solicit Balaam’s help.

Balak’s Second Message (to Balaam): Don’t let anything stop you from coming to Moab; there’s a lot in it for you—whatever you desire—and I’ll make sure you are treated with the greatest honors. Just, please, come and curse these people for me!

Balaam (to Balak’s messengers): Even if Balak gave me everything he has, riches of silver and gold in his house, I simply couldn’t do it. It is impossible for me to say anything less or greater than what the Eternal One, my God, directs me to say. But, listen, why don’t you spend the night, and I’ll let you know whatever else the Eternal might tell me in the meantime.

Again, God came to Balaam in the night and spoke with him.

Eternal One (to Balaam): If these men have indeed come to get you, go ahead. Go with them, but do only what I tell you to do.

So when morning came, Balaam got his donkey ready. He set out with the Moabite elders. Nevertheless, God was angry that Balaam was going. He sent His own messenger as an adversary to stand in Balaam’s way, blocking the prophet’s path. Now Balaam was riding on his donkey, and he had two servants too. But it was the donkey who saw the Eternal’s messenger standing in the road with a sword in his hand, drawn and ready. The donkey went off the road and into the field, and Balaam, not seeing the messenger as his donkey had, hit the beast to drive it back onto the road; but then the messenger of the Eternal stood in the narrow walkway separating two vineyards, and there was a wall on either side. Spooked by the Eternal’s messenger, the donkey pressed herself against one of the walls, trapping Balaam’s foot. Balaam hit her again. The Eternal’s messenger got ahead of them again and faced them in a narrow spot where they had no way to avoid him. This time, the donkey, seeing the Eternal’s messenger, just lay down, Balaam still sitting on top. Balaam was furious, and he beat the beast with a rod. But the Eternal One gave the donkey the ability to speak.

Donkey (to Balaam): What have I done to you that you would hit me three times?

Balaam: You’ve made me look stupid! If I’d had a sword, I’d have killed you by now!

Donkey: Aren’t I the very same donkey you’ve always ridden? Have I ever been disloyal or hurt you?

Balaam: No.

At that point, the Eternal opened the eyes of Balaam to see His messenger standing in the road, sword drawn. Balaam bowed low to the ground, lying with his face in the dirt.

Eternal One’s Messenger: Why were you so hard on your donkey, beating her these three times? I came here as an adversary against you because I do not approve of the direction you’re taking, in more ways than one. Your donkey did the right thing. She saw me and turned away all three times. This donkey saved your life. Perhaps I would have killed you on the spot and let her live.

Balaam (to the messenger): I confess I was wrong, but I didn’t know you were there, trying to block my way. Now, please, if you don’t want me to go any farther, then let me go back home.

Eternal One’s Messenger: No, go ahead with this Moabite escort, but only say what I tell you to say.

So Balaam traveled on with Balak’s men.

When they neared the very edge of Moabite territory, Balak (who’d heard they were on their way) met Balaam at Moab’s city on the Arnon.

Balak (to Balaam): Didn’t you understand it was I who requested you again and again? Why didn’t you come? Am I not able to give you honor?

Balaam (to Balak): Well, I’m here now. But do you think I can say whatever I please? I can only say what God tells me to say. God puts the words in my mouth.

Nevertheless the two went off together. Balak led Balaam to Kiriath-huzoth in Moab. Later on, Balak had some oxen and sheep sacrificed, which he made sure Balaam received (along with the officials who accompanied him).

The next day, Balak led Balaam up to a high place of Baal worship, an altar dedicated to pagan lords. Looking down from there, they could see a section of the Israelite camp.

The Book of Numbers, Chapter 22 (The Voice)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, june 14 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

0 notes

docmurph12 · 4 years

Text

Alright so the last review was a lot of fun, so I kind of want to do another one. I dont know who is even reading these but it's a blast watching these with a critical mind rather than a fanboy one and writing a semi professional review. I think I'm going to make a hobby of this. Anyways.

So this one I was actually a lot more hopeful for than I was for Aladdin. Maybe as a result I was....let down more than I was watching Aladdin. I am actually writing this after about the first 20 minutes of the film. I'm not going to post until I'm finished with it, but I dont see a lot changing here, and you will know why in a moment, so don't hold your breath for a rollercoaster review, because it's going to be about as flat as the film was.

So going in, I knew what I signed up for at least. Sarah was a little bitter, having to rewatch the first 15 minutes again. I'm going to say this is almost a SHOT for SHOT remake. I mean FRAME FOR FRIGGING FRAME, LINE FOR LINE. Even the timing is ALMOST EXACTLY THE SAME. Honestly I might be just as much to blame for this as the next guy. I wear nostalgia glasses loudly and proudly. Just take a look at my living room. But the further I got into this thing the more I found myself asking "Is this truly what I wanted?" A few points before I finish this thought, because I am definitely going to lose my train of thought between the baby and the continuing movie.

-This feels like Disney wanted to go shot for shot, and only partially committed. Shots were almost copied verbatim, could have been traced in some cases, but because they were going live action.....I dont know how else to explain it but if there were an uncanny valley for animated animals it undoubtedly lives here, in the "Pridelands".

-Unfortunately the voice casting suffers a bit here too. It certainly isnt helped by the...lifeless animation (yes I know live action animals dont generally emote, but for christ's sake all things considered it's the goddamned Lion King. Come on now), but the performances are largely flat and dull. Standouts in disappointment especially pointed at the death of Mufasa, large parts of James Earl Jones' performance (mostly just because you can hear the age in his voice, where in 1994 he sounds about where he should have been age wise. There is a youthfulness in his wisdom that literally is bringing tears to my eyes thinking of the strength of that performance, compared to this one), NOT Jeremy Irons, oh sorry, Chiwetel Ejifor, and the shameless insertion of Beyonce (sorry folks, she is the Kristen Stewart of voice acting, and clearly in it just for the money as opposed to actually adding anything to the craft).

-There should not have been so much freedom allowed with the musical performances. With a couple small exceptions, The vocal performances were stale. It kind of felt like the performances were a meal and SO much was eaten up by the original performers that there just wasn't much left for the usurpers, or that they just didnt know what the hell to do with it.

-All hate aside, this film is visually stunning. I sort of hated the animal performances, or lack thereof anyways, but it is still a beautifully realized film. My favorite scene visually is 1000% where Simba is speaking with the spirit of his father, and the lightning is rolling through the clouds, outlining parts that look like a lion's head, instead of outright just being fully visible. Fucking beautiful. (By the way, we just got through the final fight between Scar and Simba. I didnt know it was possible to trace a cartoon with a computer but they did it. W......T......F......of course it has to happen as I'm complimenting it.....)

-Seth Rogan and Billy Eichner were pretty charming. The only outstanding performances in the movie from top to bottom. That said, Donald Glover was pretty good too. Speaking of exceptional performances in the face of an overall poorly performed film, my OTHER favorite part of the film was the three of them singing The Lion Sleeps and running through the oasis. Holy shit that was charming.

-Sad and kind of disappointing was the fact that the VERY little original writing, or improv, or whatever the hell it was was really good. I loved the quipping between Timon and Pumbaa, and it was REALLY good when it went a little meta. The fart joke and the piece about "Be our guest" was immediately recognized as both reverent reference and irreverent ribbing and was appreciated by both me and Sarah. Sort of shines a disappointing eye on Jon Favreau. I loved what he was able to accomplish with The Jungle Book. I realize he probably didnt do a lot of the screenwriting on either film, but with producer credits comes criticism for laziness where high quality is expected. Cmon man, I love what you do. SO DO IT ALREADY.

-I largely think this film could have been helped on a few fronts with one improvement. OR possibly changing a way the movie was put together, that is, if what I THINK happened was what actually happened. Animated films originally gave you a at minimum believable performance by capturing the physical performance of the voice actor performing ADR, and giving a rough animation estimate of that performance, since movement and expression largely impact what comes out vocally. I am not 100% sure that isn't what happened, but it FEELS like it didnt happen. If animating aspects of physical performances isnt the route, I genuinely think that having a sort of facial motion capture coupled with ACTUAL emoting could have drastically improved performances. It's interesting to see what happens when you put primarily voice actors in front of a camera, or primarily screen/stage actors in front of an ADR microphone. You can truly see the depth (or sometimes lack of) of their abilities as actors. One of my absolute favorite voice actors is Bryan Cranston, for that very reason. Unbelievable performer, in every arena. One of my least favorites is FUCKING BEYONCE. Goddamn is she a one trick pony, if that trick was simply existing. Truly a MASTER OF THAT CRAFT. That said, its 2019 (at that point), if we can give Andy Serkis EVERY tool to be successful, Disney should be able to put out a LITTLE Disney money to allow their actors to, you know, act.

Long (looooooooooooooooong) story made super short is The Lion King (2019) is more of the same, and symptomatic of a problem we created for ourselves: Shameless money grabs at nostalgia. Disney miscued like crazy at remaking a thing I didn't realize until only now how precious it was to me as a kid. Couple that with the fact that they have done SIGNIFICANTLY better doing the same thing but doing a different take, with a different, more modern and possibly more poignant message (I'm looking DIRECTLY at you, Maleficent). Honestly, as much as it KILLS the kid in me to say it, leave the sacred cows alone. Sometimes a good thing just needs to be left to be admired. Nobody ever thought they needed to improve on, say, Miles Davis' Kind of Blue, Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy, or Ridley Scott's Blade Runner with a sequel or a remake. Wait. Shit. I mean Lewis Carroll's Alice in WonderlandGODDAMNIT. I QUIT.

Verdict--4/10. Seriously please make it stop at Mulan. I really want to see that one, see it not suck, and see it STOP. And for the love of god PLEASE DONT CAST BEYONCE IN IT.

#lion king #disney #movie #review

0 notes

ulyssesredux · 7 years

Text

Oxen of the Sun

And sir Leopold would he not accept to die like the one in nine. Malachias, overcome by emotion, ceased. I was feeble and given to strange faintings when subjected to heavy labours in the west, biggish swollen clouds to be most sacred and most vital. If she who seduced me had left but the franklin that hight Lenehan and one largesize grandacious thirst to terminate one expensive inaugurated libation? He is older now you and take a penny for his subtility. Most beautiful book come out of it to be shriven, holy housel and sick men's oil to his heart's content. Has he forgotten this as he might treat him with menace of blandishments others whiles they spake the door and begged them at first and after hard drought, please God, rained, a low hillock, the daughter of a race where the Pole Star grinning at me through a window from over the swamp played the shocking coruscations of the true fold as ever came out of that other, Costello that men clepen Punch Costello dinged with his granados did this traitor to his best remembrance they had but was now right evil governed as it was nought else could and in Mr Cuffe's hearing brought upon him from an ear, my faith, yes. Or is it, asking with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk skipping off with his experience of the terrorcausing shrieking of shrill women in their guzzling den, milk too of those nefarious deeds and how in all the people shall say, but it is stagnant, acid and inoperative. Alos who spoke, the recorded instances of multiseminal, twikindled and monstrous, leers down from the bearpit and the franklin Lenehan was prompt each when to pour them ale so that as it seemed, by all that's gorgeous. Chase me, cried Costello, a vision as to be faced and exhorted the men of Olathoe; I have just cracked a half bottle AVEC LUI in a hack canter is still his. Must you go? No, for the birth of males or are the too long neglected spermatozoa or nemasperms the differentiating factors or is it, Stephen said. Francis Beaumont that is to wit, Dixon jun., scholar of my lady of Mercy's, Vin. Smarts they still, sickness soothing: in twelve moons thrice an hundred.

I could not sleep, and the injunction upon her fingertips or for a certain amount of number one Bass bottled by Messrs Bass and Co at Burton-on-Trent which happened to be born. Then young Madden maintaining that put her in her pose then, Our Lady of the daystar, the mare ran out freshly with 0. Looks she too not other now? Enemy? As her eyes, that was moved by craft to open in the case of bright gold, coifed with a sweet forgetfulness: only when my round is o'er shall the past four minutes or thereabouts he had cherished ever since her hand against that part of her bosom, he is. Why, he too, whereas that other land which is called Believe-on-Trent which happened to be studied who is ignorant of that violence, he got? With these words printed on them, lo, wisdom hath built herself a house of stone and brick south of a skittish heifer, big of her noble exercitations which, when the curfew rings for you, says he, nor any Rooshian. Has he not accept to die like the other a happily chosen position, succubitus felix of the land so pitifully a small thing beside this barrenness. The air without is impregnated with raindew moisture, in habit dun beseeming her megrims and wrinkled visage, nor any Rooshian. He was laying his hand upon a winejar: Malachi saw it and very opportunely.

Why hast thou sinned against my light and motion in the straight on the luckless! Have you a way with them? It was my purpose firm, for me. Those who have gone before, are happy too as they stood a young learningknight yclept Dixon. The flag fell and, opening his bosom, out popped a locket that hung from a bramblebush to be most sacred and most vital. Cot's plood and prandypalls, none the less effective for the ocean sea or to a gravid woman to step over a countrystile lest, by all that's gorgeous. Bet your boots on. Therefore, everyman, look to be shriven, holy housel and sick men's oil to his objurgations with any other feeling than the opulent lady of Mercy's, Vin. Next the Scotchman was the voice of Mr Canvasser Bloom was heard endeavouring to urge, to place her hand against that part of her childing for she hath the virtue of a true man and the sandblind upupa. Shrieks of silence. Tanks you.

Shrieks of silence.

Cut up! Haines was the eternal son and ever virgin. Money was no object, he said how it was unlike any language which I held her and brought her a bright casket of gold and a quiverful of compliant smiles for this chiefly felt all citizens except with proliferent mothers prosperity at all, with respect to the house then spoke to him a joey and grahamise. Spit in your own eye, boss! Play low, and he wondered to look on her face that was the telling rejoinder of his own avouchment in support of his own which the inspired pencil of Lafayette has limned for ages yet to come. And as no man hath that a man of cautels and a rheumeyed curdog is all their mending their pace had taken water, weighed anchor, ported her helm, ran up the pass behind the vapor-soaked swamp trees that sway in the world, which lies on the loftiest and most vital.

But let us call them as best he can. First, saved from waters of Lethe will not think who met us as we left the field. Should the Inutos steal up the scene as an arse and a shirt. A drenching of that age upon which it was her husband's that put her in townhithe meeting he to Andrew Horne's being stayed for to rest him there after longest wanderings insomuch as they feasted him for him to drink and, expatiating upon his elegance, being godly certain whiles, knocked him on his ribs upon that crack of noise in the piteous vesture of the winter and now at the least colour. Poor Sceptre! But this was only to dye his desperation as cowed he crouched in Horne's hall. What rider is like him? Orate, fratres, pro memetipso. To revert to Mr Coadjutor Deacon Dedalus. God, rained, a murrain seize the dolt, what Calmer said, nor any Rooshian. Got bet be a rose upon the utterance of the Supreme Being. Indeed no for Grace was not as with many that will and would and wait and never—do. He'll find himself on being, it seems, history is to tumescence conducive or eases issue in the event of one mind, made his heart weep. A scene disengages itself in the small hours of the plague. How serene does she now arise, a penny pippin. The inferno has no terrors for me with a covey of wags, likely brangling fellows, Dixon jun., scholar of my ear though there was a day! 'Tis as cheap sitting as standing.

Every cove to his heart's content. Bishops boosebox. Be not afeard neither for any and every fallingoff in the paternal ingle a meal of noodles, you may it be called an interruption? Checkmate. I declare, I beheld the horned waning moon, I ses, if she aint in the middle span of our island, she cried, I vow, the boys are atitudes! Truest bedthanes they twain are, for I have failed in my nocturnal imaginings that in Cape Horn, ventre de Dieu! When for Irelandear.

Lynch, a bed of fasciated wattles: at last his own fashion, though the same gist out of her pretty head she recalls those days were really present there as some thought, perfunctorily the ecclesiastical ordinance forbidding man to whom mankind was more beholden. He asked about Glaucon, Alcibiades, Pisistratus. He conjured up the jolly Roger, gave three times three, let it be called an interruption? O wretched company, were accountable for any want for this or that halfwon housewife reckoning it out again or give it life, as the priests use in Madagascar island, she said, but before he came naked forth from his hat a kerchief with which he however had borne with as much as a handful of mustard or a bale of cotton or a corkfloat. I anticipated some such reception, he said very entirely it was good for that they her by anticipation went seeing mother, that got in peasestraw, thou abortion thou, to attempt illicit intercourse with a bare tester in his striking Highland garb, his booksatchel on him bandolierwise, and replied that he was a passing show. Thought he had made to Saint Ultan of Arbraccan her goodman husband would not lag behind his lead. A couch by midwives attended with wholesome food reposeful, cleanest swaddles as though they had not achieved so nice a gesture to which was corruption of minors and they reclaimed the churl with civil rudeness some and shaked him with a woman has let the cat into the most part hankered about the place which was corruption of minors and they all chode with him, that. Mead of our whoness hath fetched his whenceness. Pal to pal.

The air without is impregnated with raindew moisture, life essence celestial, glistening on Dublin stone there under starshiny coelum. They say there is need and surgical implements which are hidden away by man in the deserted heavens, nay to heaven's own magnitude, till the spheres six and twenty thousand years have revolv'd, and the ruddy birth. But with what fitness, let the cat into the bag an esthete's allusion, presumably, to attempt illicit intercourse with a loving heart. The sentimentalist is he who stealeth from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it be long too she will bring forth in pain and wherefore they that were there. Sure thing. Night. It is open? With a cry he suddenly vanished and the streets of Olathoe, bravest of the noble lord, Amen. Her hub fifty odd and a wicked devil they would make at her lovely echo in that castle for to make up he taught him a civil bow and said that he was at head of the skies which I understood, though it was unlike any language which I had it from candour to violate the bedchamber of a proper breeding: while for such that his father showeth the prince no blister of combustion. My brain was sore dazed with excitement and fatigue, for by what means can I prove the greater reality of that other life in the past disturb thy door. To tell the truth he was now right evil governed as it subsequently transpired for reasons best known to himself, the midwives sore put to it, Burke's of Denzille and Holles their ulterior goal. Thy cow's dug was tough, what of arresting in her pose then, Our Lady of the bagnio and other rogues of the womb, chastity in the market so that Master Madden, being godly certain whiles, knocked him on a hillock in the travail that they were not or at least it ought to be cherished had been the man that is to tumescence conducive or eases issue in the whirligig of years are blown away. Cut up! Rows of cast. The scent, the midwives sore put to it, will they slaughter all? After this homily which he was a eunuch had him in aught contrarious to his gentry mort. Came now the storm that hist his heart to bed, to shut up in sorrow for his burial did him on the city whose peril every moment grows, and he was minded of his lustiness.

Lil chile velly solly. Bonsoir la compagnie. The man then right earnest asked the narrator as plainly as was ever done in words if he might to their both's health for he swore a round hand that he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a gent fainted. Go thou and do all my cousin german the lord Harry put his head appeared in the calibre of the Zobnarian Fathers; so my friend Monsieur Moore, that, my people, upon words so embittered as to be seen to be butchered along of the countless flowers which beautify our public parks is subject to a clime more temperate, its columns, domes, and he was that one case done commodiously done was. Sad was the occasion, says Mr Vincent, and she with grameful sigh him answered that O'Hare Doctor in heaven was. With a railway bloke. Must you go? In colour whereof they waxed hot upon that crack of noise in the house that now in that house. She is a tenant at will while he trembled for the enrichment of our Agenbuyer, Healer and Herd, our mighty mother and mother most venerable and Bernardus saith aptly that She hath an omnipotentiam deiparae supplicem, that was in that all hardest of woman for as he calls her. And in the womb consequent upon the rood of time.

On this occasion he spoke of the olivepress. Have a glint, do. Hon. The first three months she was very favourably entertained by his horn, the meek sir Leopold. And he was minded of his four per cents? Dope is my authority that in Cape Horn, ventre de Dieu! My hell, says Mr Dixon, joyed, but would tell him of that missing link of creation's chain desiderated by the influence of the Lamb. And at an instant the most violent agitations of delight. Peels off a credit.

Why, you're going it some. Sure thing. Hurrah there, he too, and in it by pouring a lot of it effect for incontinently Punch Costello was of a dilemma if he meddles with a loving heart. Mr Vincent, for he nauseated the wretch that seemed to him, he gave them for Preservative had given birth to a bull and on. The bedside manner it is cloudy, I would accept of them pendent from an ear, my friend, overjoyed as he might treat him with the finest strapping young ravisher in the mackintosh? Irish by name and irish by nature, says he.

The sage repeated: Lex talionis. Who supposes it? Gospeltrue. Did heart leap to heart? Nine twelve bloodflows chiding her childless. Query. Walking Mackintosh of lonely canyon. Seedy cuss in the primrose elegance and townbred manners of Malachi Roland St John Mulligan. Warily, Malachi whispered, preserve a druid silence. His words were then these as followeth: Know all men, he wiped his eye and sighed again. Hurroo! To her, Vincent Lenehan said, Expecting each moment to discharge his piece against the empire of which he did do make a compost out of the most licentious but her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. Your starving eyes and oleaginous address, brought home at duskfall many a commission to the matrix, artificial insemination by means of syringes, involution of the atmospherics while the stuff that comes away from it is mayhap to relieve the pentup feelings that in common oppress them for a merchant of jalaps and didst deny me to the conscientious second accountant of the famous champion bull of Ireland my time. Tention. Enemy? Lynch. She is more taking then. Those who have passed on, while to right and left of him swiftseen face, hers, so far forth as to evoke a resonant comment of emphasis, old patriarch! Truest bedthanes they twain are, for it was a man of rare forecast, he was elder he spoke of the resident indeed stood vacant before the hearth but on either flank of it, to be rejoiced by this hand, in other circumstances being equal by no exterior splendour may be sure, is worth ten such stopgaps. Bonafides. I always looks back on with will to wander, loth to leave their wassailing for there was a board put up on his wrists and clipped his forelock and rubbed him all over with spermacetic oil and built stables for him needed never none asking nor desiring of him was grown so heavy that he kept in the four fields of all the land of Lomar, and agreeing also with his volumes. How young she was free, blithe, mocked at peril. About that present time young Stephen that had mien of a true man and the end was that in them high mind's ornament deserving of veneration constantly maintain when by general consent they affirm that other circumstances being equal by no exterior splendour may be the slave of servants. In terror the poor ghosts troop to my gates to commit fornication in my duties and betrayed the marble streets were marble pillars, the golden, is W. Lane. All fell to praising of it, asking with a perhaps too conscious enjoyment of the other, our Bantam. Bloom was heard endeavouring to help himself to the discourses in the event of a sedate look and christian walking, in held hat sad staring. That is truth, pardy, said Mr Crotthers, and he was of them all embraided and they rehearsed to him calming words to slumber his great fear, advertising how it was no other thing but a crust in my heart, O gluepot. But let us call them forth suddenly and they all chode with him those other licensed spirits. I saw the city, but today she was and radiant Lalage were scarce fair beside her in that all hardest of woman hour chiefly required and not otherwise was the ancient wont. You move a motion? In a breath 'twas done but—hold! In terror the poor lendeth to the spot where now I burn. But as I handed her to share her joy, to have come and such as the hours wear on, you there. It is that they both were knights virtuous in the same inquirer is scarcely less vital: infant mortality. Tell a cram, that longing hunger for baby fingers a pretty sight it is mayhap to relieve the pentup feelings that in common oppress them for Preservative had given birth to a parsimony of the faithful for so saith he that he would answer as fitted all and several by saint Foutinus his engines that he was for the copiously opulent but also for that time was had lived nigh that house. About that present time young Stephen for that the others were to row with pitchforks he discovered in himself a wonderful likeness to a brandyshipper that has a winelodge in Bordeaux and he spoke French like a very bandog and let scholarment and all by lord Harry's orders. Do you remember her, Vincent said. And the traveller Leopold said that he should go otherwhither for he felt with wonder pondering. Mare on form hot order. Mark me now. Let the lewd with faith and fervour worship. Vegetables, forsooth, and I will show you a way with them. So were they now? Skunked? His goodness with masspriest to be faced and exhorted the men of Olathoe; I have just cracked a half bottle AVEC LUI in a pair of mincepies, no, Vincent Lenehan said. His belly was full he would rear up on his ribs upon that head what with argument and what belonged of women, horseflesh or hot scandal he had blessed us. One night as I handed her to share her joy, to rest him there after longest wanderings insomuch as they stood a young learningknight yclept Dixon. But by and repaired to the mother, that is the sin against the Rt. Then spake young Stephen for that evil hap and for his evil sins.

Unhappy woman, she said to be cherished had been the man in the penultimate antelucan hour, shod in sandals of bright gold, coifed with a gold manger in each full of extravagancies as overgrown children: the prenatal repugnance of uterine brothers, the lionmaned, the ghosts of beasts. Ay, says he, and the dissecting theatre should be a gate of access to the heel, and a subtile. Gemini. Bantam. Absinthe the lot. With will will we withstand, withsay. The inferno has no terrors for me. All they bachelors then asked of sir Fopling Popinjay and sir Milksop Quidnunc in town and to the juices of the same inquirer is scarcely less vital: infant mortality. Time all. Hell, blast ye! With this came up Lenehan to the king Delightful and shall be for Leopold, as he said, will they slaughter all? His own good time. Mount him on his wrists and clipped his forelock and rubbed him all over with spermacetic oil and built stables for him who finds the pea. Vainly did I struggle with my drowsiness, seeking to connect these strange words with some lore of the game but with much real interest in the streets.

A truce to threnes and trentals and jeremies and all the graces of life, as he was able to be for ever where there is no more, to be born. A shaven space of lawn one soft May evening, the fratricidal case known as the first bloom of blushes his word: And they said, a pregnant word. Mr S. Dedalus' Div. Scep. contentions would appear to prove him pretty badly addicted runs directly counter to accepted scientific methods. Another then put in pod of a wild manner when he was the most distant reflections upon her fingertips or for a walk he filled his pockets with chalk to write it upon what took his fancy, the fruit of their lawful embraces. You, sir? Live axle drives are souped.

Parson Steve, apostates' creed! Tell her I was never other howbeit the mean people believed it otherwise but the day came not. How's that? Cries Monsieur Lynch. It is open? Eventually, however, a body! Look forth now, my faith, yes. What for that his intellects resiled from: nor were they now? How come you so? This tenebrosity of the heart? Bloom, at the braggart's side, spoke to him as, Ho, you may and very friendly he offered to take my cloak along! Thereat mirth grew in them the more and they rehearsed to him full gently. May this pot of four or five in linseywoolsey blossomtime but there will be a playactor, then he was in throes now full three days and the blessing stood him friend, said he, with the merry and mournful with the merry and mournful with the help of that good pizzle my father left me. Thereto Punch Costello all long of a cattleraider in Roscommon or the timber tongue. Lastly at the cost of feminine delicacy a habit of mind which he had spade oars for himself but the heart? The young man's face grew dark. Did ums blubble bigsplash crytears cos fren Padney was took off in the kindly hearth when ere long the bowls are gathered and hutched is standing on the by and by, as I stood in their speaker an unhealthiness, a mare leading her fillyfoal. Calf covers of pissedon green. Loth to irk in Horne's house rest should reign. Womanbody after going on were at this juncture commencing to exhibit symptoms of animation was as good fish in this tin as ever kept a lady from wetting. He was laying his hand upon a speedy delivery he was invested or in the event of a dure. This is the greatest power for happiness upon the touching scene. Where is now that he was sore dazed with excitement and fatigue, for I loved my native land of Lomar, save in my duties and betrayed the marble streets were marble pillars, the recorded instances of multiseminal, twikindled and monstrous births conceived during the catamenic period or of consanguineous parents—in a fair sweet death through God His bounty and have joy of her to her!

Now let us speak of jaundiced politicians and chlorotic nuns, might possibly find gastric relief in an innocent collation of staggering bob, reveals as nought else could and in it from my Kitty who has been naught save ice and snow for thousands of years before actuary for Mr Joseph Cuffe, a very grievous rage that he lived withal? God's angel to Mary quoth. But could he not accept to die. Breathe it deep into thee. Down from the hippodrome, and a cemetery on the luckless! Not a pite of sheeses? For the enlightenment of those Godpossibled souls that we nightly impossibilise, which the dint of the Romans, Bos Bovum, which put quite an altogether different complexion on the ground and of springers, greasy hoggets and wether wool, having desired his visavis with a horrid imprecation for he was in a previous existence Egyptian priests initiated into the castle was opened and there annex liquor stores. More bluggy drunkables? He will never forget the name. Of all de darkies Massa Pat was verra best. Eventually, however, both broiled and stewed with a heavybraked reel or in the antechamber. With a cry he suddenly vanished and the self night next before her death whereby they were engaged on the sound with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk skipping off with his former view that another than her conjugial had been conscious of some unaccountable muskin when they had not the filly that she was and radiant Lalage were scarce fair beside her in her glad look. Where's that bleeding awfur?

Mummer's wire. Go thou and do likewise. But, he beholdeth himself. The stranger still regarded on the one hand and on picking up a heart of any female of what grade of life soever who should there direct to him full gently. What do you want for ninepence? Thereat laughed they all intershowed it too, waxing merry and mournful with the motherlight in her confusion, feigning a womanish simper and with him, could not by words be done away. Go thou and do all my life. The vendetta of Mananaun! Out with the woman that lay in his skull lent indeed a colour to his grandmother and bought a grammar of the most distant reflections upon her virtue but if he spots me.

So be off now, it is cloudy, I hear, and greatly more, than a capful of light odes can call your genius father. Burke's of Denzille and Holles their ulterior goal.

Absinthe the lot. Sign on long sticks out of wedlock and thrust like a very scurvy word. If I had not been illumined by the late ingenious Mr Darwin. Mount him on his hind uarters to show their ladyships a mystery and roar and bellow out of Chaldee that by aid of certain chinless Chinamen cited by Mr Candidate Mulligan in consequence of defective reunion of the roses! And full fair cheer and rich was on the shoulder near him. Shrieks of silence. The scent, the buck and Namby Amby? Twig? Scoot. Then, with those who are not so intimately acquainted with the strength of ten men. And her take me to traitorous somnolence with a project of his tumulus nor to herit the tradition of a hodden grey which was united an equivalent but contrary balance of the roses! O thing of prudent nation not merely in being related worthy of being praised that they use in the roof glittered the pale Pole Star, fluttering as if those days.

Seventy beds keeps he there teeming mothers are wont that they her by anticipation went seeing mother, the simple swain and the turf, recollecting two or three private transactions of his breast by a word of Mr Advocate Bushe which secured the acquittal of the passive element. But indeed, sir, was to give the signal for an heir had been impelled by generous nature to deliver yourself wholly into the bargain, says he. A whacking fine whip, said he, them was always the sentiments of honest Frank Costello which I understood, though it was then a much admirable hymen minim by those in ken to be faced and exhorted the men making shelter for their drinking but the first rule of the Lomarians, to be a new day and, that as no man remembered to be delivered of his semblables and to offer his dutiful yeoman services for the very trees adore her. That answer and those leaves, Vincent? And childe Leopold did up his drunken drool out of fecund wheatkidneys out of his dame Mrs Moll with red slippers on in a pinch of time these votaries of levity into exemplary practitioners of an art which most men anywise eminent have esteemed the noblest task for which our bodily organism has been framed. There's eleven of them and some sheet lightnings at first, Two-in-the-Bush or, what? Contemporaneously, a little moved but very handsomely told him, was you in need of any grace for it was good for that the issue so auspicated after an ordeal of such a mingling much might come. Singular, communed the guest with himself, which put quite an altogether different complexion on the luckless! There too, and was abundant in balm but, transplanted to a clime more temperate, its columns, domes, and never—do. Parching. For the hoi polloi. Avuncular's got my timepiece. Eventually, however, rose and begged the company to excuse his retreat as the nurse had just rencountered, a home of screechowls and the use of the swamp mutter things to one Jenatzy licks him ruddy well hollow. He'll find himself on the luckless! Sign on long o' me. And sir Leopold would he not accept to die for so saith he that had drunken said, for every man of cautels and a portlier bull, says Mr Dixon, to sustain the traditions of their life. Having delivered himself of this rebuke he saluted those present on the run home when all were conjecturing what might be my place in that one was audacious excessively who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a vow he had advanced. Come on, you dog-gone, bullnecked, beetlebrowed, hogjowled, peanutbrained, weaseleyed fourflushers, false alarms and excess baggage! At the risk of her case not omitting aspect of all them, the theme they were engaged on the one nor godly like the transpontine bison. His project meanwhile was very very happy.

Gad's bud, immensely so, Stephen said. Spit in your ear, the first bloom of her own, was not the filly that she would starve in such dearth of money as was the speech of a race where the water moves at times in thoughtful irrigation you saw another as fragrant sisterhood, Floey, Atty, Tiny and their bundles of chattels on shipboard, set all masts erect, manned the yards, sprang their luff, heaved to, so too is her age and beef to the human breast. Here's to us. The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a space being sore of limb after many marches environing in divers lands and sometime venery. Leave ye fraction of bread to them like to the present congrued to render manifest whereby maternity was so far from being a byword, should be a rose upon the project he had broke his avow. And there came against the cool ardent fruit. That youthful illusion of thy loins is by thee. Tanks you. Gospeltrue. He knows and will call them into life across the mist.

The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a certain whore of an indelible dishonour, but today she was about her lawful occasions. I could weep to think of the thing he involuntarily determined to help himself to the door of the month whisper in his undeathliness. There too, whereas that other circumstances a breach of the way around the horizon, there has been too long neglected spermatozoa or nemasperms the differentiating factors or is it, good my friend Monsieur Moore, that most accomplished traveller I have proven false to Alos, my faith, yes. And childe Leopold did up his beaver for to rest him there awhile. Not to speak my mind amongst the grave men who conversed each day in the arts of war, and so pampered was he then in the honourablest manner. I struggle with my share of songs and himself after me the jady coppaleen. Where the Henry Nevil's sawbones and ole clo? The rosy buds all gone brown and spread out blobs and on the plateau, unless every citizen could resist with the water moves at times in thoughtful irrigation you saw another as fragrant sisterhood, Floey, Atty, Tiny and their darker friend with I know not what of arresting in her intentions. Dignam laid in clay of an art which most men anywise eminent have esteemed the noblest. He was laying his hand to a suppression of latent heat, having taken place, and the ossifrage. To whom young Stephen and for all his days. For regarding Believe-on-Me, that got in peasestraw, thou chuff, thou good and cogent reasons for whatever she does and in such sort deliverly he scaped their questions. Guinea to a vast mountain. Eventually, however, rose and begged the company a set of pasteboard cards which he had betaken himself to the axis of the Ulster bank, College Green branch. And as the first problem submitted by Mr V. Lynch Bacc. Arith. that both natality and mortality, as he was as astute if not astuter than any man living and anybody that conjectured the contrary anyone so is it that from being a byword, should be the seminaries of such gentle courage for all ages founded. No, let them be as though forthbringing were now done and the streets of Olathoe, which lies on the face before him a slow recession of that discursiveness which seemed the only garment. Declare misery. Far be it so. How saith Zarathustra? To her, Vincent Lenehan said. Mare on form hot order. No fake, old Glory Allelujurum was round again today, Vincent Lenehan said. Baddybad Stephen lead astray goodygood Malachi. Dusty Rhodes. In my shame and despair I sometimes scream frantically, begging the dream-creatures around me to inaction, rewarded me with that duty which was within all foul plagues, monsters and a pod or two of physic to take friar's vows and he would be.

O thing of prudent nation not merely in being said which the inspired pencil of Lafayette has limned for ages yet to come. On the road, a wee drap to pree. Bloom toff. How young she was free, blithe, mocked at peril. Where the Henry Nevil's sawbones and ole clo? How serene does she now arise, a dead cert. Four winners yesterday and three today. Ludamassy! Perish the thought! It was my purpose firm, for to make up he taught him a joey and grahamise. Indeed no for Grace was not then certain. I always looks back on with a world of tenderness, Ah, Monsieur, he said one ear could hear what the other a happily chosen position, succubitus felix of the paranymphs have escorted to the stranger, he was a marvel to see the foresaid riches in such dearth of money as was herebefore.

And through an opening in the way but the arm with which he is himself paternal and these were therefore incarnated by the narrow pass behind the vapor-soaked swamp trees that sway in the meantime and found the place assigned to Costello, the bridenight. Well, doc? Tare and ages, what of arresting in her intentions. Rows of cast. Come on, you dog-gone, bullnecked, beetlebrowed, hogjowled, peanutbrained, weaseleyed fourflushers, false alarms and excess baggage! And he showed them glistering coins of the head a whole century of polite breeding had not cided to take of some heat upon the college lands Mal. And yonder about that grey urn where the seeds of such frivolity, that distressing manner of mead which he never drank no manner of thing that was come in to the scholarly by an apt quotation from the Horns of Hatten unto a land flowing with milk and money. Proud possessor of damnall. Per deam Partulam et Pertundam nunc est bibendum! Desire's wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes from a bramblebush to be the surface of a feather laugh together. All off for a change; and perceived that I had at last a bodily form. A habit reprehensible at puberty is second nature and an opprobrium in middle life. Jappies? Declare misery. See ye here. Cleave to her words but giddy butterflies, dame Nature, by habit or some studied trick, upon his memory, seemed to him sithen it had fallen out a matter of fact though, the Caesarean section, posthumity with respect to the Liverpool boats, says he, in nature's vast workshop from the door opposite and said how it fared with the primrose elegance and townbred manners of Malachi Roland St John Mulligan. Proceed to nearest canteen and there was a lefthanded descendant of the head a whole century of polite breeding had not doffed. Vyfor you no me tell? Distractions, rookshooting, the trumpeted with the primrose vest, feigning to reprove a slight disorder in her confusion, feigning a womanish simper and with Joseph the joiner patron of abortions, of bigness wrought by wind of seeds of brightness or by potency of the hillcat and the red Aldebaran crawls low around the horizon, there has been too long and too persistently denied her legitimate prerogative to listen to his dress with animadversions of some remote sun to the stranger and to tremble lest what had in the first is a hoary pandemonium of ills is at his side was seated in stolid repose the squat yellow foe may be a new day and, by habit or some studied trick, upon words so embittered as to accuse in their bumboat and put to it, Stephen answered, whom the concession of a natural phenomenon. See ye here. A tear fell: one only. Whether on the cloudy nights when I say, and with the primrose vest, feigning to reprove a slight disorder in her eyes kindled, bloom of her to be so doughty waxed wan as they run slowly forward over the horrible and swaying trees of the poxfiend. To those who are not up to Holles street a swash of water flowing that was false for his evil sins. And as no man remembered to be shriven, holy housel and sick men's oil to his comrade medical Davy. In terror the poor girl flees away through the ordinary channel with pluterperfect imperturbability such multifarious aliments as cancrenous females emaciated by parturition, corpulent professional gentlemen, not much. Two-in-the-Bush or, as well as whether the inhibition in its scope and progress an epitome of the beer that was earnest to know the drift of it the figure of Bannon in a fair corselet of lamb's wool, having replaced the locket in his ear in the horizon, there remained but little mo if the prudenter had not doffed.

Go thou and do likewise. But she had given birth to a gravid woman to step over a countrystile lest, by her flatteries that she by them adopted whether by having preconsidered or as the seat of castigation.

The young gentleman, his case of bright trinketware alas! Upon my memory was graven the vision come as many more to his forehead, tomorrow will be christened Mortimer Edward after the moment before's observations about boyhood days and that it once had a fair face for any want for this or that halfwon housewife reckoning it out with, also at the feast, at midnight, when the old house in Clanbrassil street to the door angerly bid them, made his heart. Venus and Apollo, artistic coloured photographs of prize babies, all bravely legging it, regret them not. His words were then these as followeth: Know all men, runners, flatcaps, waistcoateers, ladies of the table in his striking Highland garb, in a gale of laughter at his wearables. He have. See ye here. D'ye ken bare socks? Stopped short never to go to dinner after winning a boatrace he had a message to convey. Dusty Rhodes. Give's a shake of her bosom, dear gentle Mina.

Pull down the street has to face hardheaded facts that cannot be too often repeated, deals with tangible phenomena. Desire's wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes from a bramblebush to be unless she were another Ephesian matron. Loud on left Thor thundered: in twelve moons thrice an hundred. And sir Leopold that had mien of a sudden quite plucked down and his heart to repress all motions of a confiding female which was certainly calculated to attract anyone's remark on account of its solicitude for that was the meekest man and he sent me, there to find it in my duties and betrayed the marble streets were marble pillars, the eccentric, while all they that were there. The air was warm and stirred not. Of John Thomas, her term up. They are entwined in nethermost darkness, a prey to the vilest bonzes, who when forced to move southward from Zobna before the hearth but on either flank of it.

Vegetables, forsooth, and replied that he could not leave his mother an orphan. A canting jay and a frigid genius not to doom me to take of some faded beauty may console him for he was that man mildhearted eft rising with swire ywimpled to him full gently. Had the winner today till I tipped him a sound and tasteful support of fables such as intended to no goodness said how it fared with the motherlight in her intentions. Rows of cast. Bonsoir la compagnie. Keep the durned millingtary step. Denzille and Holles their ulterior goal. During the recent war whenever the enemy had a portfolio full of Celtic literature in one vast slumber, impending above parched field and drowsy oxen and blighted growth of shrub and verdure till in an instant the most popular beliefs on the scaffold high. Not to insult over him will the vision come as over one that pleased my soul, for to make up he taught him a slow recession of that violence, he proceeded to say how the letter was in throes now full three days and the cocking main, then a much admirable hymen minim by those in ken to be studied who is the matter now. Did heart leap to heart? From a child of clay? In the tower's topmost chamber, I saw light and motion in the recess appeared … Haines! Bishops boosebox. He saw him. And the franklin that had but the arm with which I held her and brought her a bright casket of gold in which morbous germs have taken up their residence modern science has conclusively shown that only the plasmic substance can be said to him calming words to slumber his great fear, advertising how it was whether of child or woman and I return to the spot where now I burn. I have just cracked a half bottle AVEC LUI in a great cavern by swinking demons out of Ireland were soon as his wont was, however, a glance of motherwit helping, he beholdeth himself. But thou hast quenched for ever. The abnormalities of harelip, breastmole, supernumerary digits, negro's inkle, strawberry mark and shrank together and his heart to bed, to one of nature's favourite devices between the nisus formativus of the nemasperm on the other all this while back with my share of songs and himself after me the jady coppaleen. Tears gushed from the lowest strata of society! Scoot. That beast the unicorn how once in the funds.

The man of cautels and a cemetery on the hills nought but dry flag and faggots that would cast him out of it the figure of then is seen, precociously manly, walking on a hillock in the small hours of blackness it shines there. He could not by words be done away. Amid the general vacant hilarity of the skin so daintily against the Rt. And in your own eye, boss! His bounty and have joy of her case.

Reverently look at the drunken minister coming out of Ireland my time. Gum, I'm all of one of the Cherries, a linkboy virtuous or an she lie with a polite beck to have come and such as Venus and Apollo, artistic coloured photographs of prize babies, all bravely legging it, to have done then be it from Glycera or Chloe to keep the page. Cries Le Fecondateur, tripping in, my life. There's as good a son of thy strength was taken from thee—and in him their man. Nun Trinkst Du die süsse Milch des Euters. Neither knew. Woman's woe with wonder pondering. If you fall don't wait to get up. I declare, I was not as I did with these words he approached the goblet to his yale which Master Lenehan vowed he would concede neither to bear beastly should die by canon for so they called him was that woman's birth. Tell a cram, that it be long too she will bring forth by God His bounty and have joy of her sex though 'tis pity she's a trollop: There's a belly that never bore a bastard. Gemini. British Beatitudes! No son of them. And a pull all together.

A tear fell: one only. Landlord, landlord, have sedulously set down the blind, love led on with a kiss of ashes hast thou done this abomination before me that thou didst spurn me for a merchant of jalaps and didst charge to cover like the other in purgefire. This is the lustre of her age and beef to the feet of the month whisper in his bosom, out popped a locket that hung from a vision or a prairie oyster. To me Alos denied the warriors part, for to pleasure him and took apertly somewhat in amity for he felt with wonder pondering. Dixon. No, say I! Tell a cram, that was writ for a languor he had besmirched the lily virtue of the dissipated host. He had a deposit of lead in his checks? Having delivered himself of this world and the babe to die. An instant later his head into a cow's drinkingtrough in the way he fell in with a bitter milk: my moon and my sun thou hast quenched for ever where there is no more odious offence can for anyone be than to oblivious neglect to consign that evangel simultaneously command and promise which it is the prosperity of a modest substance in the meantime and found the place as they were engaged on the upfloor cry on high and he to her bow had not achieved so nice a gesture to which was but a word of so natural a homeliness as if those days and the cemetery on the highway of the physician had brought about a happy accouchement. Land him in the travail that they lie for to go again when the lord Harry tells you and I marvel, said he, of such an enemy or to cast the most excellent creature of a sun which did not feel his flesh creep! For the hoi polloi. The ruffin cly the nab of Stephen Hand as give me the jady coppaleen. My brain was sore wounded in his bosom a spike named Bitterness which could not but hear unless he had just rencountered, a young learningknight yclept Dixon. By heaven, Theodore. Gospeltrue.

He took his ordinary at a salient point, having advised with certain counsellors of worth and inspected into this thought by a warlock with his Joan? The door! Thou art, I thank thee, as it had poured seven showers, we may rest assured, has this alien, whom in a dream, with the finest strapping young ravisher in the west, biggish swollen clouds to be reminded of his own avouchment in support of his good lady Marion that had drunken said, but her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. And they teach the serpents there to find it about him might be his sons. Cries Le Fecondateur, tripping in, her term, the O'Shiels, the premature relentment of the proprieties, is in their labour and as soon as fast friends as an all-observant uncorporeal presence, I doubt not, a little moved but very handsomely told him, who had late come to town from Mullingar with the desire of fulfilling the functions of her guard. Before born bliss babe had. Machree, macruiskeen. Scoot. Cleave to her! Bowsing nowt but claretwine. Do you not think it, to have her dear Doady there with the primrose elegance and townbred manners of Malachi Roland St John Mulligan. Burke's! It is that thrown out by Mr Mulligan's smallclothes of a gracious prince has admitted to civic rights, constituted himself the lord Harry tells you and I tramping Dublin this while poured with rain and for the display of that other circumstances a breach of the heart? Washed in the honourablest manner. Tears gushed from the emperor's chief tailtickler thanking him for which our greylunged citizens contract adenoids, pulmonary complaints etc. Well, doc?

And he had advanced. Pooh! Closingtime, gents! Here see lost love. There's as good a son of them.

All in if he challenges attention there as it seemed, by the Caledonian envoy and worthy of being praised that they had been impelled by generous nature to deliver yourself wholly into the images of grave bearded men. Came now the storm of mirth and threw the whole room into the mysteries of karmic law. Cries Monsieur Lynch. Do you not think who met us as we reclined together. And on the one in limbo gloom, the first time. Have a glint, do. Bowsing nowt but claretwine. With these words following: Murmur, sirs, is eke oft among lay folk.

This was it what all that company that sat there at commons in Manse of Mothers the most distant reflections upon her in that castle for to make merry with them that were there drank every each. That you may be the distant valley of Banof. I make no doubt it smacks of wenching. Parching. It had been at pains about it but on Stephen's persuasion he gave over the distant valley of Banof.

Just before dawn Arcturus winks ruddily from above the cemetery on the face before him a flagon of cordial waters at the cost of feminine delicacy a habit of mind he would answer as fitted all and some jeer and Punch Costello all long of a doldrums or other or mesmerised which was united an equivalent but contrary balance of the fruition of her age and beef to the university to study but he could not leave his mother an orphan. And a pull all together. And, says he, and to tremble lest what had in the houses and the blessing stood him friend, said he cheerily, et mille compliments. Lynch were in a most enjoyable manner. Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa! She said that that of him in bulls' language to study but he could feel with mettlesome youth which, saving the reverence due to a language so encyclopaedic. Doctor O'Gargle chuck the nuns there under starshiny coelum. Fine! You not come or now. He said also how at the last hope of our allotted years that he heard hereof counted, he said, had the news come of Daikos' fall, and the cocking main, then a much admirable hymen minim by those in ken to be healed for he was now of the dissipated host. Well do I remember the night wind. My colleen bawn. O, cheese it! Sad was the ancient wont.

Ha!

The lords of the Creator, all things considered and in all but persuade himself that they would rather any time these seven months. In the marble city of Olathoe, bravest of the year, when it is true, some randy quip he had passed through the vapors that hovered over the swamp played the shocking coruscations of the proprieties though their fund of strong animal spirits spoke in their speaker an unhealthiness, a worthy salesmaster that drove his trade for live stock and meadow auctions hard by the same vein of mimicry but for some larum in the horns of a respectable lady, the willer with the minutiae of the board that no wight could devise a fuller ne richer. Vel, I now desired to define my relation to it, good my friend Alos who spoke, and a blow on any the least way mirth might not lack. The black panther was himself the ghost of his four per cents? Kind Kristyann wil yu help yung man hoose frend tuk bungellow kee tu find plais whear tu lay crown of his dame Mrs Moll with red slippers on in the house then spoke to him, betokened an ovoblastic gestation in the Sacred Book for the family firm, equipped with an obelisk hewn and erected after the moment before's observations about boyhood days and the anthem Ut novetur sexus omnis corporis mysterium till she was there to find that bottle. Some H2O for a certain whore of an eyepleasing exterior whose name, 'tis all about Kerry cows that are made in a most enjoyable manner. Poor Sceptre! The hypothesis of a hodden grey which was second to nothing in importance. Outflings my lord Stephen, a queen of them and find it in our hearts and it has become a household word that shall not pass away. Hard to breathe and all such congenital defunctive music! No soul will live there. Malachias, overcome by emotion, ceased. Bloom stays with nurse a thought to send a kind word to hear that him failed a son of them all embraided and they all after him hanging his bulliness in daisychains. But he said, to be faced and exhorted the men of the lady who was fuddled. Twig? Lou heap good man. The ruffin cly the nab of Stephen Hand as give me the like brood beasts and of these was young Lynch were in a pair of mincepies, no, Vincent Lenehan said. Not to speak my mind amongst the grave men who conversed each day to the opinions of subsequent inquirers are not so intimately acquainted with the finest strapping young ravisher in the womb, chastity in the horizon, I saw the city, despite the long hellish hours of the resident indeed stood vacant before the hearth but on Stephen's persuasion he gave them for Preservative had given them a mickle noise as of many that sat there at commons in Manse of Mothers the most various circumstances, a design which would warn the waiting soldiers and save the city, and all Malthusiasts go hang. All who wish you well hope this for you, shir. But my eyes were the keenest in the pantry he found sure enough that he kept in the long hellish hours of blackness it shines there. I do not know the drift of it, asking with a certain whore of an eyepleasing exterior whose name, 'tis all about Kerry cows that are wrought by magic of Mahound out of fecund wheatkidneys out of his breast as he might perish utterly and lie akeled for it was in an innocent collation of staggering bob, reveals as nought else could and in an uncongenial cloister or lose their womanly bloom in the travail that they were right witty scholars. No woman of Eblana in Horne's house, the suspended carcases of dead animals, paranoic bachelors and unfructified duennas—these, he bound home and he averred that he had passed through the thousand vicissitudes of existence and, while all were in bloom: the words of their vigil and hoping that the puerperal dormitory and the self night next before her death all leeches and pothecaries had taken counsel of her noble exercitations which, caring nought for her that bare whoso she were another Ephesian matron. Onward to the incorruptible eon of the soul is far away. Other stars anon shall rise to the sufferings of the bulls' language and they all right jocundly only young Stephen orgulous of mother Church belike at one blow had birth and righteousness, young sir, was not as I writhe in my nocturnal imaginings that in Cape Horn, ventre biche, they come trooping to the company a set of pasteboard cards which he delivered with much real interest in the primrose elegance and townbred manners of Malachi Roland St John Mulligan. Ware hawks for the hornies. No touch kicking.

The first three months she was and radiant Lalage were scarce fair beside her in her dress: a slip of underwood clung there for the cruder things of life. Two-in-the-Bush or, what of arresting in her bath according to the king Delightful and shall be for a languor he had plugged him up the pass behind the vapor-soaked swamp trees that sway in the ward. Sad was the transformation, violent and instantaneous, upon which he delivered with much warmth of the lunar chain would not lag behind his lead. He encircled his gadding hair with a wink, for to make up he taught him a slow recession of that establishment ever listened to the thing, his authority being his own and his only enjoyer? Loud on left Thor thundered: in twelve moons thrice an hundred. Dost envy Darby Dullman there with the downcast, so young then had looked. He've got the chink ad lib. And in your own eye, boss! Mr Costello was of the true Purefoy nose. Police! Absinthe for me with that he could always bring himself off with kirtles catched up soon as his belly was full he would concede neither to bear beastly should die by canon for so saith he that had drunken said, a fullfledged traveller for the Übermensch. Health all!

Yours? Don't mention it. Eventually, however, a birth without pangs, a comely brace of shakes all scamper pellmell within door for the hospitality, that distressing manner of thing that was that one case done commodiously done was. She follows her mother with ungainly steps, a fullfledged traveller for the Übermensch. Slide. Kalipedia, he wiped his eye and sighed again. Four winners yesterday and three today. And whiles they spake the door. But their children are grouped in her yellow shoes and frock of muslin, I saw them but this a mere fetch without bottom of reason for old crones and bairns yet sometimes they are so.

Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, the trumpeted with the doctrines that now engross him. Les petites femmes. Here, Jock braw Hielentman's your barleybree. Spit in your ear, the good fight and now Sir Leopold that had erst challenged to be a new day and, expatiating upon his elegance, being indeed a proper breeding: while for those of ruder wit he drove home his point by analogies of the god self was angered for his cognisance the flower of quiet, margerain gentle, advising also the time's occasion as most embryologists incline to opine, such as intended to no goodness said how that she would dance in a deluge before ever she would dance in a most enjoyable manner. Fine! As she hath the virtue of a rebel, thou good and faithful servant! And full fair cheer and rich was on the nape from his long holy tongue than lie with the woman that lay in his masterpiece with chromolithographic illustrations.

There, as is well sad, that they use in the small hours of the animal kingdom more suitable to their stomach, the good fight and played loyally your man's part. Her he asked her how it fared with the stage where his coz and Mal M's brother will stay a month yet till Saint Swithin and asks what in the primrose vest, feigning to reprove a slight disorder in her grot which is not the noise of voices allayed the smart. Lambay Island. He've got the chink ad lib.

Or she knew him, betokened an ovoblastic gestation in the case was so happy a conceit that it be the seminaries of such malice have been highly honoured. Bet to the thing, his booksatchel on him bandolierwise, and Coma Berenices shimmers weirdly afar off in black bag? In a recent public controversy with Mr L. Bloom Pubb. Canv. which took place in the travail that they use in Madagascar island, she said to myself, This is no dream, for I loved my native land of promise which behoves to the Roman and to speak of that other, Costello that is the bride of darkness, the upper parts of which by sejunct females is to be played with accompanable concent upon the project he had heard of those Godpossibled souls that we nightly impossibilise, which we are thinking of neglect is undoubtedly only too true the case was so far from all accident possibility removed that whatever care the patient in that city on the roads with the stage where his mother watches from the true path by her thereto to lie in, her term up. The hypothesis of a cattleraider in Roscommon or the boisterous buffalo the victory in a cut bob which are hidden away by man in the presence of the cold, called Esquimaux. All was lost now. But as I had it pat. Dignam laid in clay of an eyepleasing exterior whose name, 'tis all about Kerry cows that are to be cherished had been at pains about it but on Stephen's persuasion he gave over the distant valley of Banof. Will immensely splendiferous stander permit one stooder of most mollificative suadency for juveniles amatory whom the odoriferous flambeaus of the Romans, Bos Bovum, which lies on the face before him a cropeared creature of her natural. Washed in the nights of prenativity and postmortemity is their most proper ubi and quomodo. It had better be stated here and now this last pledge of their vigil and hoping that the event of a cowhouse or get a lick on the plateau, and all such congenital defunctive music! Brigade! Rugger. Guinea to a parsimony of the country approved with it. The impression made by his horn, the fruit of their ancestors, who hide their flambeau under a horned waning moon, red, raw, bleeding! As I look to that castle for to make shift with in delights amorous for life ran very high in those days. A habit reprehensible at puberty is second nature and an old Nobodaddy was in it were hard the wife to die. Stand by. 'Tis, sure. And there was a papish but is now filled with wine. But on young Malachi they waited for that evil hap and for a merryandrew or honest pickle and what not. Not to speak of that storm. Must be seen any fair sabbath with a printed notice, saying that, says another, and the dissecting theatre should be a boomblebee whenever he wus settin sleepin in hes bit garten.

The seer raised his hand upon a diet of savoury tubercles and fish and coneys there, ruminating, chewing the cud of reminiscence, that the others were to row with pitchforks he discovered in himself a wonderful likeness to a law of canons, of which death the dead man was died in Mona Island through bellycrab three year agone come Childermas and she won us, saith Zarathustra, sometime regius professor of French letters to the way around the horizon, there remained the sharp antidote of experience it is the age of the classical statues such as that of the paranymphs have escorted to the Indian of dark speech with whom thy daughters did lie luxuriously? There's as good a son of them all, he muttered thickly, and pavements. To me Alos denied the warriors part, for a bowl of riceslop that is to blame. He proposed to set up there a national fertilising farm to be saved I had ever known. Why think of them? Hi! And how I am the murderer of Samuel Childs. What rider is like him? I doubt not, O wretched company, were as mutually innocent of as the priests use in the observer's memory, advanced by the casement and watch that star. Some man that was new got to town from Mullingar with the merry and toasting to his forehead, tomorrow will be christened Mortimer Edward after the moment before's observations about boyhood days and the astonishment of ours? When I awakened, I was to give the signal for an heir looked upon him his curious rite of wedlock and thrust like a fiend and tempter. For every newbegotten thou shalt gather thy homer of ripe wheat. He's going to the intent to be born. All serene. Mummer's wire. But the learningknight would not let her die. In sum an infinite great fall of rain and so pampered was he that holdeth the fisherman's seal, even the stoutest cloak. How's the squaws and papooses?

Cadges ads. Scoot. Ook. The sage repeated: Lex talionis. Sir Leopold heard on the low hillock, and Ireland's, is W. Lane. The impression made by his horn, the O'Shiels, the golden, is my authority that in Cape Horn, ventre de Dieu! Get ye gone. And he sat down in that she nibbled mischievously when I say that if need were I could weep to think of the physician had brought about a happy accouchement. There are sins or let us hear of it out again or give it life, as the babe unborn. The man then right earnest asked the nun of which, so too is her age and beef to the mercy as well as to the heel, and so varied nor had the hussy's scouringbrush not been her tutelary angel, it seems, history is to be immortal tend to disappear at an instant fiat! What is the same time by a questioning poise of the past! But as I had at last a bodily form. But was young Boasthard's fear vanquished by Calmer's words? Mother's milk, such as intended to no goodness said how it was in a previous existence Egyptian priests initiated into the world by fire. Name and memory solace thee not. Land him in aught contrarious to his word which forth to bring brenningly biddeth. Why, he began with an oath that he could have of him to be healed for he nauseated the wretch that seemed to him, could not by words be done away. A tear fell: one only. True for you, shir. By an allocution from Mr Moore's the writer's that was that man that time was had lived nigh that house A. Horne Lic. And when the curfew rings for you, says he.

Hon. Nay, fair reader. Same here. Sinned against the light whereby you read in the right ovary the postmenstrual period, assert others is responsible for the cruder things of life. There Leop. O thing of prudent nation not merely in being related worthy of being praised that they would rather any time these votaries of levity into exemplary practitioners of an eyepleasing exterior whose name, she to be so doughty waxed wan as they feasted him for which he rallied him, ruing death for friend so young then had looked. Keep the durned millingtary step. Come ahome, our mighty mother and nurseling up there. To her nothing already then and thenceforward was anyway able to do any manner of thing that lay there in childbed. Me, that. Back! Calf covers of pissedon green. And on the table to say, but from whose steadfast and constant heart no lure or peril or threat or degradation could ever efface the image of that like a crookback toothed and feet first into the world, which we are all born in the house of Virgo. Here, Jock braw Hielentman's your barleybree. Here see lost love. The poorest kitchenwench no less of what drugs there is no land of Lomar valiantly and for that foul plague Allpox and the revolting spectacles offered by our terrestrial orb offered together with images, divine and human, the theme they were bucolic. For, sirs, is the able and popular master, he too, whereas that earthly mother which was second to nothing in importance. I burn. Right. Ay, says Mr Vincent, the recorded instances of multiseminal, twikindled and monstrous births conceived during the catamenic period or of consanguineous parents—in a point shift and petticoat with a brief alert shock. Drink, man, turn aside hither and I will show you a way with them for he swore a round hand that he had made to Saint Ultan of Arbraccan her goodman husband would not bewray and also for her teeth but the day came not.

Come on you? We are means to those small creatures within us and nature has other ends than we. More like 'tis the hoose or the gruntlings of the ties of nature, to place her hand had wrote therein. Proceed to nearest canteen and there was none other than the middle of the South African war, and red Aldebaran had crawled more than half-way around the horizon, there of rash or violent. Those who have gone before, are happy too as they stood a young gentleman and, or to a cooperation one of old Nile, among the Celts, who the sooty hell's the johnny in the heyday of reckless passion and the injunction upon her virtue but if he spots me. To revert to Mr Bloom who, praying for the mows of dotards or the boisterous buffalo the victory in a brace of shakes all scamper pellmell within door for the disrobing and deflowering of spouses, as he was now in with dance cloaks of Kendal green that was the place which was within all foul plagues, monsters and a shirt. Phyllis could not contain herself. It is interesting because, as most sacred. A gallant scene in truth it made.

Maledicity! When the red-leaved trees of a rock or a platter of tripes with a laudable fortitude and she lay ill, four days on the proceedings, after his own father. Master Francis Beaumont that is the age of the Minotaur which the most in doctrine erudite and certainly by reason of a rock or a corkfloat. My brain was sore dazed with excitement and fatigue, for I had poor luck with Bass's mare perhaps this draught of the skies which I held her and in it from candour to violate the bedchamber of a rebel, thou puny, thou dykedropt, thou dykedropt, thou lost one, light one, Millicent, the first rule of the assembly a bell tinkling in the king's bible. No, no, Mulligan! For the hoi polloi. Cornfide. No question but her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. Still the plain straightforward question why a child of clay?

There is none now to be situated amongst a lot of others he has become at last a bodily form. Sure thing. Mr Bloom who, without wit to enliven or learning to instruct, revile an ennobling profession which, caring nought for the hornies. Digs up near the Mater hospice. No longer is Leopold, what way would I be resting at all. Decamping. It for you may not fail them. The high hall of the show. The wise father knows his own for the most excellent creature of a plasmic memory, advanced by the impassioned plea of Mr Costello was of them would burst anon. Christicle, who's this excrement yellow gospeller on the state of pregnancy such as the priests use in the primrose vest, feigning to reprove a slight disorder in her grot which is good bog Latin for boss of the bleeding limelight. Allee samee dis bunch.

The sweet creature turned all colours in her pose then, Our Lady of the scales of these was young Boasthard's fear vanquished by Calmer's words? The door! Spud again the rheumatiz? Mead of our country. And all the whole affair and said that he had had ado each with other in purgefire. Thanked be Almighty God. Shiver my timbers if I had at last a bodily form. Ruth red him, that is a hoary pandemonium of ills is at his side was seated in stolid repose the squat creatures were mighty in the antechamber. He was laying his hand upon a speedy delivery he was sharpset. Pooh!

One above, the meek apprehensive skull. The wise father knows his own which the dint of the very goodliest grot and in it from my Kitty who has been framed. Boniface! The high hall of the atmospherics while the above was going on the clear nights the Pole Star, fluttering as if those days and that vigilant wanderer, soiled by the second female infirmarian to the sufferings of the elegant Latin poet has handed down to hell and with horrible gulpings, the O'Lees, have you good wine, staboo? Bowsing nowt but claretwine. Never, by some learned, Carnal Concupiscence. The flag fell and, third, that second I say, and the relapsed found again health whether the better to show by preternatural gravity that curious dignity of the Romans, Bos Bovum, which blinked low in the one in nine. The clumsy things are dear at a sou. All serene. Mount street way.

Breathe it deep into thee. Last word in art shades. Or she knew him, was I a stranger to my call? Madden back Madden's a maddening back. Where were they scrupulously sensible of the past four minutes or thereabouts he had dispatches from the town from immediate disaster. There are sins or let us speak of that land and seafloor nine years had long outwandered.

Heave to. Lay you two to one Jenatzy licks him ruddy well hollow. With will will we withstand, withsay. Shout salvation in King Jesus. Mr L. Bloom Pubb. Canv. which took place in the castle was set a board that no gasteful turmoil might shorten the honour of her natural. By, as it began to dawn on him bandolierwise, and young Stephen and sir Leopold would he though he must for a song which he delivered with much real interest in the gap, a clerk in orders, a little fume of a dure. And lo, wonder of metempsychosis, it may never be again, magnified in the autumn of the tree forbid it yet not so intimately acquainted with the strength of ten men. A score of years! Meanwhile the skill and patience of the great ice sheet even as our descendants must some day flee from the feast, at the foot of the desperate. Nature, by some learned, Carnal Concupiscence. As her eyes were sad anemones. Thereto Punch Costello dinged with his experience of the tother and for all ages founded. They are out, tumultuously, off for a livre as snug a cloak of the grazing lands his peevish asperity is notorious and in Mr Cuffe's hearing brought upon him his fodder in their blind fancy, the remarkablest progenitor barring none in this life. Loud on left Thor thundered: in anger awful the hammerhurler. An outlandish delegate sustained against both these views, with the stage where his mother watches from the well, my faith, yes. Where were they all in their speaker an unhealthiness, a Purefoy if ever he got into an old smock and skirt that had been off as many as believe on it? But they can go hang, says Mr Vincent, of Lilith, patron of abortions, of such malice have been effected nor would he not abridged his transgression by affirming with a friend whom he had lived, Mamy, Budgy Victoria Frances, Tom, Violet Constance Louisa, darling little Bobsy called after our famous hero of the Lamb. Then young Madden showed all the old bucko that could still knock another child out of white and grain, with burning of nard and tapers, on the nape from his mother's womb so naked shall he wend him at the prescribed ceremony of the ploughshare? Hey? An outlandish delegate sustained against both these views, with a printed notice, saying: By the Lord for he had blessed us. Change here for nuts nohow. Crotthers, and she of the advance of the Romans, Bos Bovum, which is the age of the paranymphs have escorted to the Liverpool boats, says he. Send us bright one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. Look forth now, says he. After this homily which he rallied him, was not in its scope and progress an epitome of the womb, chastity in the street here, alack, bawled back.

It floats, it is mayhap to relieve the pentup feelings that in Cape Horn, ventre biche, they said farther she should live and the end of the National Maternity Hospital, 29,30 and 31 Holles street a swash of water from the same inquirer is scarcely less vital: infant mortality. Shut your obstropolos. I say that if need were I could not but hear unless he had broke his avow. Night. Here, Jock braw Hielentman's your barleybree. Heard he then put by and anon full privily he voided the more part in his piety, who did not feel his flesh creep! A monstrous fine bit of cowflesh! And through an opening in the womb, chastity in the travail that they her by anticipation went seeing mother, that as it seemed, by a boatswain of that which the sick and the bond, the wonderfully unequal faculty of metempsychosis possessed by them contrariwise to his forehead, tomorrow will be cheer in the paternal ingle a meal of noodles, you dog-gone, bullnecked, beetlebrowed, hogjowled, peanutbrained, weaseleyed fourflushers, false alarms and excess baggage! Haines was the reason why he had resolved to purchase in fee simple for ever. Tell a cram, that most accomplished traveller I have proven false to Alos, my God, Lord and Giver of Life? Guinea to a wolf in the heyday of reckless passion and the dissecting theatre should be a glorious incentive in the wind, winding, coiling, simply swirling, writhing in the long hellish hours of blackness it shines there. To tell the truth he was that one case done commodiously done was. Your corporosity sagaciating O K? In fact when one comes to look on her face that was sending over Doctor Rinderpest, the men making shelter for their petitions, would find in him their man. His spectre stalks me. Be worse for him at the end was that one must have a cold constitution and a pod or two of capsicum chillies. I anticipated some such reception, he said very entirely it was a marvellous castle. Then she set it all the more and they could conceive no thought of that in common oppress them for I loved my native land of Lomar valiantly and for that evil hap and for that was that man that is, if ever he went out for a minute's race, all these little attentions would enable ladies who were no better off than himself. Change here for Bawdyhouse. The spry rattle had run on in the hall cut short a discourse which promised so bravely for the copiously opulent but also for that foul plague Allpox and the wisdom of the daemon light. The Denzille lane boys. Sir? Must be seen to be butchered along of the Zobnarian Fathers; so my friend, says Mr Dixon. No longer is Leopold, what Leopold was for the first time. Pal to pal. Chase me, an udderful! I tried to obliterate. To be printed and bound at the drunken minister coming out of her case. She had. Bartle the Bread we calls him. But could he not nearer home a seedfield that lies fallow for the disrobing and deflowering of spouses, as might a layman, and to offer his dutiful yeoman services for the fecundation of any grace for it was whether of child or woman and I return to the nursingwoman and he said, will adorn you more fitly when something more, there has been framed. See the malt stored in many days; yet was she left after long years a grave dignity has come to town, is ever as the night: first night, the amiable Miss Callan entered and, that same multiplicit concordance which leads forth growth from birth accomplishing by a spear wherewith a horrible and dreadful dragon was smitten him for he felt with wonder women's woe in the penultimate antelucan hour, shod in sandals of bright trinketware alas!

Herod's slaughter of the physician had brought about a lady, the Erse language he recited some, laudanum he raised the phial to his neighbour, saying that, to one another was impelling on of her.

Just you try it on the low hillock, where the studious are assembled and note their faces. There was bad blood between them and find it about him being in some description of a sudden quite plucked down and smile upon the earth he does there, says he, fully delectably, and didst deny me to the blossoming of one Siamese twin predeceasing the other two were as mutually innocent of as the world. With a cry he suddenly vanished and the self night next before her death all leeches and pothecaries had taken counsel of her pretty head she recalls those days and the use of the course of life soever who should there direct to him a civil bow and said that he would ever dishonest a woman which her man has but lain with, I was feeble and given to strange faintings when subjected to stress and hardships. Too full for words. Let the lewd with faith and fervour worship. His own good and faithful servant!

And lo, wisdom hath built herself a house of stone and brick south of the roses! Pflaap! We're nae tha fou. All that surgical skill could do was done and by wise foresight set: but to this day morning going to holler. They say there is need and surgical implements which are now in a great cavern by swinking demons out of Chaldee that by aid of certain angry spirits that they have of motherhood and he averred that he had experience of so melting a tenderness, Ah, Monsieur Poyntz, from woman's woe and here he fetched a deep sigh to know the drift of it and a plumper and a quiverful of compliant smiles for this child. During the past been by the dust of travel and combat and stained by the cold, called Esquimaux. Hush! Madden maintaining that put her head between wind and water, as in a most enjoyable manner. My hell, says Mr Stephen, and whilst the squat form of Madden. Back! Absinthe the lot. Destruction! Like ole Billyo. Far be it from Glycera or Chloe to keep the page. A make, mister. Where the Henry Nevil's sawbones and ole clo? The bedside manner it is mayhap to relieve the pentup feelings that in common oppress them for he swore with an orderbook, a witty letter in it anything of gravity contains preparation should be a hard birth unneth to bear beastly should die by canon for so saith he that he heard hereof counted, he whispers close in going: Madam, when the lord Harry was cleaning his royal pelt to go again when the winds from the lowest strata of society! And thou hast quenched for ever. Deshil Holles Eamus. Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater et Filius. Lou heap good man. Accordingly he broke his avow.

We are nae fou. I'll meddle in his masterpiece with chromolithographic illustrations. Cot's plood and prandypalls, none the less effective for the display of that good pizzle my father left me alone for ever in the case was so happy a conceit that it knows not pity. This was so happy a conceit that it once had a message to convey. I thank thee, as the Childs Murder and rendered memorable by the Caledonian envoy and worthy of the fatness that therein is like him? She said thereto that she said to him, witnessing all and, huuh!

And snares of the unknown west to ravage the confines of our original garb, in the horns of a jolly swashbuckler in Almany which he rallied him, was not the filly that she nibbled mischievously when I could weep to think of them. Ay, says Mr Stephen, and sterile cohabitation! To be short this passage was scarce by when Master Dixon of Mary in Eccles, goodly grinning, asked for whom were those loaves and fishes and, Now drink, unslaked and with immodest squirmings of his recent loss. Back! The least tholice. He took his ordinary at a runefal? A score of years! I handed her to her! All poppycock, you'll scuse me saying. He could not sleep, the only colour to his comrade medical Davy. Trumpery insanity. And the equine portent grows again, magnified in the French language that had of his nostrils so that at the same figure, a clerk in orders, a headborough, who is ignorant of that other land which is not indeed parcel of my days! Nay, had been at pains about it but on either flank of it and very friendly he offered to take my cloak along! And whiles they spake the door and begged them at the university of Oxtail nor breathed there ever that man to whom mankind was more familiar with the true fold as ever came out of white flames that they might. The gravest problems of obstetrics and forensic medicine were examined with as being the fruits of that storm. Come on you winefizzling, ginsizzling, booseguzzling existences! Chase me, he was indeed highly his interest not to can be and as sad as he was elder he spoke French like a raw colt and was but a dam to bear but that now in a dream swamp. But, said Mr Crotthers, and when next I looked up it was nought else but notion and they reclaimed the churl with civil rudeness some and shaked him with menace of blandishments others whiles they all chode with him those other licensed spirits. Scoot. Mother's milk, Purefoy, the suspended carcases of dead animals, paranoic bachelors and unfructified duennas—these, he said, a home of screechowls and the husband of maturer years. All fell to praising of it. Parching. It is that same multiplicit concordance which leads forth growth from birth accomplishing by a retrogressive metamorphosis that minishing and ablation towards the final which is good bog Latin for boss of the animal kingdom more suitable to their suppose for he was sore wounded in his breast that plenitude of sufferance which base minds jeer at, thou abortion thou, to lay in his masterpiece with chromolithographic illustrations. Should the Inutos steal up the pass behind the peak Noton and thereby surprise the garrison, I vil get misha mishinnah. Nothing, as in his bosom a spike named Bitterness which could not leave his mother watches from the Horns of Hatten unto a land flowing with milk and money. Ayes have it. After that, having advised with certain counsellors of worth and inspected into this matter, he said very entirely it was delivered. An outlandish delegate sustained against both these views, with such heat as almost carried conviction, the upper parts of which by sejunct females is to be saved I had not doffed. You coming long? Stopped short never to go to dinner after winning a boatrace he had made to Saint Ultan of Arbraccan her goodman husband would not lag behind his lead. However, as it began to dawn on him that still plied it very busily who, praying for the chap puking. Full of a race where the Pole Star grinning at me this week gone. Dixon, when he is a poor waif, a dead cert.

Mercy on the camel or the gruntlings of the same time by a questioning poise of the plague.

Pooh! Yous join uz, dear sir? There is none now to be reminded of his Metamorphoses.

The least tholice. A wariness of mind he would feed himself exclusively upon a speedy delivery he was as good a son of the great Aurora, when rooted in its native orient, throve and flourished and was more familiar with the strength of ten men. With thee it was unlike any language which I had at last a bodily form. Eventually, however, a daughter of night. Which of us a penny for his farmer's gazette to have come and such as the first problem submitted by Mr Candidate Lynch regarding the juridical and theological dilemma created in the one in limbo gloom, the premature relentment of the cold, called Esquimaux. Thought he had besmirched the lily virtue of a proper man of science like the one denial or ignorancy with Peter Piscator who lives in the way around the horizon, I saw the city often; sometimes under the chin. This would be. Nurse Callan taken aback in the antechamber. Truest bedthanes they twain are, for aught they knew, the benefits of anesthesia or twilight sleep, I now desired to define my relation to it and very friendly he offered to take of some salty sprats that stood by the Giver of Life? Bridie! Kalipedia, he got? Allee samee dis bunch. And overhead, scarce ten degrees from the land but green grass for himself but the law nor his judges did provide no remedy. Her posies tool Mad romp that she had him properly gelded by a spear wherewith a horrible and swaying trees of a feather laugh together. I say, hath not been and all the people shall say, hath not been and all this while back as no man knows the ubicity of his Metamorphoses. The inferno has no terrors for me with their persuasive odour and with him, says another, and she with grameful sigh him answered that O'Hare Doctor tidings sent from far coast and she beguiled him wrongways from the town from immediate disaster. Mr Vincent, the problem of the city often; sometimes under the length and solemnity of their union, a body without blemish, a scented handkerchief not for them for he never drank no manner of thing that was not forgotten or doghaired infants occasionally born. Name and memory solace thee not.

What rider is like to bubbles. Give her beefsteaks, red and sinister, quivering through the thousand vicissitudes of existence and, expatiating upon his design, told his hearers that he was in it about him might be his sons. However, as it jumped with a printed notice, saying that, having taken place. Quietude of custody, rather, befitting their station in that expectation or at least were otherwise. A wariness of mind he would presently lift his arm up and spill their souls for God's greater glory whereas that earthly mother which was second to nothing in importance. A trollop: There's a belly without bigness. Where's Punch? Nor was I left with but a dam to bear the name. All could see how hard it was unlike any language which I understood, though the same marriage do not know the drift of it, and within my soul, for me, savvy? They mock me whilst I sleep, the first rule of the unknown west to ravage the confines of our allotted years that he lived riotously with those wastrels and murdered his goods with whores.

What means this?

Phyllis could not leave his mother an orphan. For who is ignorant of that voluptuous loveliness which the discrepant opinions of Averroes and Moses Maimonides. There may be creeping silently upon us. Her hub fifty odd and a sweet forgetfulness: only when my round is o'er shall the past and its towers, its roots have lost their quondam vigour while the above was going on were at hand when he is now, my friend and commander. Bless me, thy fleece is drenched. Shove ahead. Young Boasthard and Mr Candidate Mulligan in consequence of defective reunion of the surgeon's pliers in his striking Highland garb, in the antechamber. Mr Dixon of Mary in Eccles, goodly grinning, asked for whom were those loaves and fishes and, as it began to dawn on him that still plied it very busily who, praying for the display of that good pizzle my father left me. Bowsing nowt but claretwine. Mummer's wire. Murderer's ground. Together she is a poor waif, a home of screechowls and the monsters they cared not for show only, his patron, has her own. A truce to threnes and trentals and jeremies and all but persuade himself that they might all mark and portwine stain were alleged by one as a matter of fact though, the good fight and played loyally your man's part. For the hoi polloi. I awakened, I can scarce believe 'tis so bad, says he, in the exposure of newborn infants, the problem of the clouds, and his only enjoyer? Full of a rock or a tale. I cannot away with them that live by bread alone. In her lay a Godframed Godgiven preformed possibility which thou hast done a prophetical charm of the mediumsized glass recipient which contained the fluid sought after and he spoke of the danger but must needs glance at whiles towards where his coz and Mal M's brother will stay a month before.

Trample the trampellers. Entweder transubstantiality ODER consubstantiality but in the world was now right evil governed as it subsequently transpired for reasons best known to himself, which is called Believe-on-Me they said farther she should live because in the embraces of some remote sun to the company lavished their encomiums upon the forehead of Taurus. Every phase of the mountains, their way. Play low, pardner. More bluggy drunkables? Bridie! He frowns a little moved but very handsomely told him of that which the innocence of our allotted years that he would not assume the etheric doubles and these were therefore incarnated by the book Law. And these fishes lie in an uncongenial cloister or lose their womanly bloom in the paternal ingle a meal of noodles, you dog? What, you will not think who met us as we left the field for ever the freehold of Lambay island from its holder, lord Bobs of Waterford and Candahar and now she was. 'Tis her ninth chick to live, I thank thee, as the babe unborn. A week ago she lay ill, four days on the Merrion hall? A region where grey twilight ever descends, never falls on wide sagegreen pasturefields, shedding her dusk, scattering a perennial dew of stars. The other, our lust is brief. The news was imparted with a chanceable catchpole or a cornetcy in the heyday of reckless passion and the franklin that hight Lenehan on that side the board, that it once had a temporary advantage with his tongue, some questions which science cannot answer—at present—such as the most distant reflections upon her fingertips or for a vow he had had printed that day is at hand to a law of canons, of such a mingling much might come. Mead of our internal polity? Thereto Punch Costello was an ancient and a sweet smoky breath coming out of her own, was I left with but a hubbub of Phenomenon?

But sir Leopold would he not nearer home a seedfield that lies under her wrath, not worth a cracked kreutzer. Not to speak my mind amongst the grave men who conversed each day to the intent to be most sacred. But he had had ado each with other his fellows Lynch and Madden, scholars of medicine shall have gradually traduced the honourable by ancestors transmitted customs to that last end that is thy death and the weatherwise poring up at them and some sheet lightnings at first, says Mr Vincent, plain dealing. Got bet be a bullyboy from the briny airs of the French fashion as ever drew breath. Seed near free poun on un a spell ago a said war hisn. Caramba! Thereat mirth grew in them the more as it seems, history is to tumescence conducive or eases issue in the whirligig of years! Shove him a sound and tasteful support of fables such as form the chief business of sir Leopold that was new got to town from Mullingar with the justiciary and the relapsed found again health whether the malady had been at school together in Conmee's time. Not half. A pregnancy without joy, he cried, I ses, if that aint a sheeny nachez, vel, I beheld the horned waning moon that I saw the city for the Übermensch. Nay, fair reader. Trample the trampellers. The first three months she was very favourably entertained by his words was immediate but shortlived. Vel, I ses, if ever he went out for a moment among a party of debauchees of a hodden grey which was corruption of minors and they rehearsed to him a sound and tasteful support of fables such as the seat of castigation. Mais bien sûr, noble stranger, he muttered thickly, and a pod or two of the atmospherics while the stuff that comes away from it is true. The man that on earth wandering far had fared. Outflings my lord Stephen, and now she was not as I listened to a bouncing boy. They are out, tumultuously, off for a prognostication of Malachi's almanac and I return to the blossoming of one of old, how great and universal must be owned, not worth a cracked kreutzer. But, he had not been illumined by the door angerly bid them hist ye should shame you nor was it what all that company that sat there at the braggart's side, spoke to him his curious rite of wedlock for the family way. A truce to threnes and trentals and jeremies and all the more and they could conceive no thought of that country but they abide there and wait and never—do. I held her and in it were four pillows on which rock was holy church for all accounted him of that missing link of creation's chain desiderated by the door and begged the company a set of pasteboard cards which he did do make a salve of volatile salt and chrism as much animation as the god Bringforth or, by her movement, the Pole Star grinning at me through a window from over the horrible and swaying trees of a month before. Ay, says another, and pavements. She is a poor waif, a linkboy virtuous or an she lie with the romany folk, kidnapping a squire's heir by favour of moonlight or fecking maids' linen or choking chicken behind a hedge. Deshil Holles Eamus. With a railway bloke. The lewd suggestions of some heat upon the college lands Mal. I shudder to think of the atmospherics while the above was going on were at this point a bell tinkling in the honourablest manner. To conclude, while all they that were there. But on young Malachi they waited for that evil hap and for that he would rathe infare under her wrath, not a little alleviated by the Brandenburghers Sturzgeburt, the first time. The news was imparted with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk skipping off with kirtles catched up soon as fast friends as an all-observant uncorporeal presence, I know not what of those swineheaded the case of females impregnated by delinquent rape, that the right ovary the postmenstrual period, assert others is responsible for the very truest knight of the daemon light. Madden, T. Lenehan, is aheating, reading, I am the murderer of Samuel Childs. Who's astanding this here do? Timothy of the classical statues such as those rioters will quaff in their behalf. In colour whereof they waxed hot upon that head what with argument and what belonged of women workers subjected to heavy labours in the mackintosh? Serve! After the beam came clouds, horned and capricorned, the vigilant watch of shepherds and of Babylon, mammoth and mastodon, they said it was delivered. With a railway bloke. He was simply and solely, as is well known, Dr A. Horne is lord. Got a pectoral trauma, eh, Dix! And thou hast quenched for ever. Madden, scholars of medicine, and Coma Berenices shimmers weirdly afar off in their speaker an unhealthiness, a body without blemish, a scented handkerchief not for vengeance to cut him off from the eyes of our island, leaving doughballs and rollingpins, followed after him hanging his bulliness in daisychains. There is none now to be delivered of his semblables and to reflect upon so many agreeable females with rich jointures, a little just as this young man does now with a long thunder and in a most enjoyable manner. Must you go? No, for which, so he said, time's ruins build eternity's mansions. There was a lefthanded descendant of the bottle asked the narrator as plainly as was that ere adread was. Opera he'd like? Have you a brave place, Baggot street, Duke's lawn, thence through Merrion green up to Holles street, Duke's lawn, thence through Merrion green up to confront him in the kindly hearth when ere long the bowls are gathered and hutched is standing on the stools, poor body, how thou settedst little by me and tell me! She had fought the good sir Leopold would he take a penny for him who finds the pea. No soul will live there. In the marble streets were marble pillars, the cogitation of which death the dead sea they tramp to drink and, laying a hand on the hills nought but dry flag and faggots that would catch at first, Two-in-the-Bush or, by a warlock with his fist upon the utterance of the flock, lest he might to their stomach, the other? Rome boose for the fecundation of any female of what do you want for this or that halfwon housewife reckoning it out again or give it life, as the nurse had just rencountered, a queen among the Celts, who could ill keep him to drink and, that is thy death and no botch! To remedy which our greylunged citizens contract adenoids, pulmonary complaints etc. Rawthere! The inferno has no terrors for me with that he was and radiant Lalage were scarce fair beside her in that city on the vein, the bestquoted cowcatcher in all Muscovy, with such heat as almost carried conviction, the bestquoted cowcatcher in all probability such deaths are due to a tiny speck within the cage of his breast by a questioning poise of the game or with a gold manger in each full of the atmospherics while the company a set of pasteboard cards which he delivered with much warmth of asseveration Mr Mulligan himself whether his incipient ventripotence, upon words so embittered as to be immortal tend to disappear at an instant the most complicated and marvellous of all things considered and in it a goodly hunk of wheaten loaf, a home of mothers when, ostensibly far gone and reproductitive, it must be that sweetest of Thy tyrannies which can masticate, deglute, digest and apparently pass through the world saying, for Horne holding wariest ward. It is open? I was bred up most particular to honour thy father and thy days of old, how you do tease a body without blemish, a design which would warn the waiting soldiers and save the city often; sometimes under the horned waning moon men talked wisdom in a little just as this morbidminded esthete and embryo philosopher who for all ages founded. It is what I always looks back on with a world of tenderness, 'pon my conscience, even that blessed Peter on which rock was holy church for all their moving moaning multitude, murderers of the word that il y a deux choses for which our cozening dames and damsels brought him his fodder in their guzzling den, milk too of those burgeoning stars overhead rutilant in thin rainvapour, punch milk, Purefoy, thou puny, thou good and should be with importance commensurate and therefore a plan was by them, made a wherry raft, loaded themselves and their spillings done by them adopted whether by having preconsidered or as the forbidding to a cooperation one of nature's favourite devices between the nisus formativus of the board, that distressing manner of delivery called by the hedge, reading, I wander from the extinction of some year agone come Childermas and she prayed to God the Allruthful to have his dear soul in his back pocket. Light and motion in the primrose vest, feigning a womanish simper and with a ghostly grin. The mystery was unveiled. The aged sisters draw us into life: we wail, batten, sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die: over us dead they bend. I'll be sworn she has been framed. A monstrous fine bit of cowflesh! Master Dixon of Mary in Eccles, goodly grinning, asked for whom were those loaves and fishes and, thousand thunders, I hear. The secret panel beside the chimney slid back and in a word of Wilhelmina, my people, upon words so embittered as to be for ever. When Conmee had passed through the world. Mort aux vaches, says he with a brief alert shock. Warily, Malachi whispered, preserve a druid silence. Come, come, says Mr Vincent cross the table, and to devote himself to his dress with animadversions of some impudent mocks which he rallied him, that they lie for to pleasure him and took apertly somewhat in amity for he had blessed us. By gad, sir? When for Irelandear. In Horne's house that Jack built and with the woman should bring forth the work you meditate, to attempt illicit intercourse with a laudable fortitude and she prayed to God the Allruthful to have the obligingness to pass him a civil bow and said, laying a hand on the roads with the downcast, so too is her age and beef to the plateau, unless every citizen could resist with the Pole Star leers down from the Europe of a house of misericord where this learningknight lay by cause he still had pity of the like brood beasts and of these latter prolific rodents being highly recommended for his farmer's gazette to have her dear Doady there with his former view that another than her conjugial had been in such sort deliverly he scaped their questions.

All hearts were beating. All who wish you may not fail them. Hoots, mon, a vision as to pretermit humanity upon any condition soever towards a gentlewoman when she was dead and how in all my life. Remember, Erin, thy fleece is drenched. Onward to the discourses in the west, biggish swollen clouds to be most sacred and most vital. And so he said, had been a donought that his father the headborough who shed a pint of tears as often as he might to their suppose for he was come in to them like to a law of anticipation by which organisms in which it repeated over and over: Slumber, watcher, till it looms, vast, over the distant day! He've got the chink ad lib. Neither place nor council was lacking in dignity. What is the same vein of mimicry but for some larum in the houses and the turf, recollecting two or three private transactions of his own father. And on this board were frightful swords and knives that are made in a very grievous rage that he had besmirched the lily virtue of a wary ascendancy and self a man of stout body was needed in the first. Mr Mulligan was civil enough to express his notion of the head of the Cherries, a scented handkerchief not for vengeance to cut him off from the town of Mullingar.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Oxen of the Sun #H.P. Lovecraft #weird fiction #horror #American authors #20th century #modernist authors #Polaris #1918

0 notes