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mamahersh · 3 years

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The Road to Hell (is Paved with Good Intentions) Chapter 7

“Season 8 was well underway, and the server’s first conflict is bubbling just under the surface. But BDoubleO can’t worry about that right now because he has an Etho to find so they can work on the Horse Course together. However when Xisuma calls a surprise server meeting on behalf of EvilXisuma, BDubs gets his answers about where Etho’s been in the worst way possible.”

(CW: angst, mild torture)

Chapter rating: T

Nice long conclusion chapter to make up for the short one yesterday! From BDubs view, plus nHo hurt/comfort (emphasis on comfort)!

As in all the previous chapter posts, if you’ve enjoyed the ride I took direct inspiration from this oneshot on AO3! Please give them some love and appreciation.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

It had taken days before Xisuma figured out what EX had done to the server that had caused the respawns to break in the way that it had, and how to fix it. However, figure it out and fix the problem he did, and with respawn mechanics back to normal, everyone who had died and respawned during the glitch was able to reset their health completely. And properly set their respawn points as well, since part of the glitch seemed to be that people’s respawns were being set as they were dying. But the biggest adjustment in the days after EX had caused havoc was trying to help Etho recover.

While Etho seemed relatively ok once he was able to talk again (his tongue and all his other lingering injuries were fully healed with the fixing of the respawn, though figuring out a way to get him to respawn was both more difficult and less difficult than BDubs had expected); BDubs was hearing from Iskall that all was still not right with the world. Normally, Hermits would let current season basemates/regional allies/faction mates do the heavy lifting of any emotional or mental stress that a particular Hermit experienced on the daily unless the Hermit asked for help from specific Hermits. But in this case, BDubs felt he should invite Etho to an nHo reunion/get-together. Even if Etho didn’t necessarily need the reunion, BDubs knew the rest of the nHo did.

They had all been in various states of hysterics by the time they had gotten Etho out of the restraints and the death loop he had been locked in. BDubs had been the first person to breach the room, with Iskall and Beef right behind him. Beef had blocked up the water to stop the cycle as Iskall and a recently arrived Cleo began breaking restraints while BDubs clutched Etho’s freed hand (thinking back, he probably shouldn’t have. Etho’s hands had looked hardly better than the rest of his mangled flesh. He also wasn’t sure how they managed to get his wrists detached from the cuffs, as his arms and wrists were still solidly clipping into the restraints). Hypno had fiddled with the camera and looked over the speakers, before he managed to get everything deactivated and convinced the remaining Hermits to gather at Cleo and Joe’s base. By the time the Hermits were assembled at Joe and Cleo’s base, and Etho had been safely transported from the floating box, Doc was a hissing mess, Beef was greener than normal as his stress seemed to activate the alien transition, and BDubs had resorted to constantly checking his clock (a nervous habit he had picked up from 3rd Life, but the less he thought about that hell server the better). Etho had been quickly whisked away by Iskall to their shared base, but was just as quickly relocated to the Spawn Egg; as neither had wings, and Etho wasn’t nearly healthy enough to try and scale his own base in the sky. Plus, being at the Spawn Egg had the added benefit of easy access by the rest of the server so that other Hermits could stop by and check in on Etho’s progress while they all waited for Xisuma to fix the respawn mechanics. BDubs stopped by once while Etho was recovering. It was a little out of his way when trying to visit the Yes Wings Club, but figured he might as well since he hadn’t seen Etho since they had saved him 2 days before.

Etho looked about what he had expected to be honest. Since they were worried about whether a normal respawn would register his tongue being gone as normal if they healed it properly with potions, the other Hermits had determined to wait on healing him till after he had properly respawned. That left him bedridden till the server was fixed though, which no one was happy with. BDubs was told later that supposedly Etho had understood during the few times he was lucid enough to listen to someone during that time. While he had been there though, Etho had been solidly asleep, Iskall asleep himself by Etho’s bedside. BDubs had taken a moment anyway to sit on Etho’s other side and just quietly talk to him about what he had been up to in the day or two since they had saved him. Iskall had come to briefly to see who had been talking, before settling back into his chair to rest.

BDubs had left pretty quickly, if he were being honest. Seeing Etho as vulnerable as he was left BDubs feeling a bit ill. After that, it had only been a day or two more of anxiously waiting for Xisuma to fix the server before they had been able to get the other Hermits respawned properly. (There had been several deaths during the time the respawns had been on the fritz, including a couple during the search from fall damage.) But when it came to Etho, they had tried to explain what needed to happen during one of the next times he was awake, but he had been becoming more unresponsive the longer he had been bedbound. So with heavy hearts, it had been decided that Etho needed to respawn as soon as they could decide a way to do so. After much debate between Iskall and Xisuma, it was decided that a quick anvil to the head would suffice.

It was told to BDubs later that Etho had respawned a few paces from the bed he had been sleeping in at Spawn looking incredibly confused and lost. It took close to a half hour to explain what had happened to him before him and Iskall went back to their shared base. And if Iskall was to be believed, it sounded like Etho hadn’t slept since the first night back. Which was almost a week ago. Not that many of the other Hermits were doing better. From the sounds of the grapevine, Mumbo still blamed himself for what had happened to Etho, and despite apologizing and promising Etho a cut of all his profits that season to make up for his decision (which he had been told Etho had forgiven Mumbo for and told Mumbo to keep the profits as he was just respecting Etho’s choice) he insisted on trying to find ways to make it up to an increasingly exasperated Etho. (Which BDubs noted was somewhat out of character, since Etho almost never missed a chance to keep someone in his debt and exploit them for his own projects). Other than Mumbo, Doc had been reported also to not have been sleeping as much, but instead he worked on his most recent engineering marvel. Beef had been throwing himself almost entirely into setting up his own shop outside the Derpcoin market to sell his own brand of non-evil cat food. BDubs knew that Beef was taking the whole: “Derpcoin is actually evil not even a meme” thing incredibly hard, since his whole thing this season had been going over to the dark-side as an alien (which BDubs still didn’t understand how that had started in the first place). BDubs himself was doing just fine thank you very much! Sure, he’d been struggling with sleeping at night himself (every time he closed his eyes he could see Etho strapped to that chair and drowning again), and yeah, he’d been trying to work on the shopping district by the mountain instead of the Horse Course (he had heard from Iskall that Etho had been working on something outside the base, and BDubs had a sneaking suspicion he knew at least one of the projects Etho’d been working on). But he definitely wasn’t nearly as bad as the other members of the old nHo. Definitely. He couldn’t lie to himself, they were all having a bad time.

So, as BDubs was wont to do, he took things into his own hands and sent invitations to all the nHo members to come by his base for a get together. The date was set, and he visited every member in person leading up to the event to make sure they were coming, no excuses! (He knew it was particularly urgent as when he went to check on Etho, he finally found him sleeping in one of BDubs’ builds next to the horse course, and when he got Etho awake, he cracked exactly 0 height jokes until he tried to get Etho to come by later and it was a height joke every minute. The height jokes were BDubs’ way of figuring out how nicely Etho wanted to play. The less the better.)

But now the day had finally arrived, and BDubs welcomed each one of his friends into his base with open arms and a smile. First to arrive was Beef, seeing as he was closest. Then Doc. Then as BDubs was debating messaging Iskall to find Etho for him, the man himself showed up on BDubs’ doorstep. Everything went off without a hitch in the beginning. They all were able to reconnect and chat about bases and projects they were working on; Doc with his redstone magic he was getting from his friends on another server, Beef and his efforts to create a new kind of cat food, Etho and his many projects ranging from an inventory sorter to the horse course, and BDubs with his latest shop attempts in the Big Eye Crew shopping district. (It was good to see Etho making fun of BDubs’ attempts at making a redstone shop. Etho hadn’t heard of it yet, and it was a delight to see him light up while joking about what BDubs could possibly make with redstone that even someone like Grian couldn’t do themselves.)

It all comes crashing down when Etho asks Beef more about the cat food. Specifically what was wrong with the old cat food.

Now Beef hadn’t expressly said that he had been working with EX for having a cat food stand at the Evil Emporium; but he had implied that his previous cat food flavor would be going on the back burner. What they all had assumed was that Etho at least generally knew most of the gossip on the server. But what BDubs should have guessed was that Etho had been very absent this season, and unless the current events were directly affecting his plans, he had never been one for being up to date on server events. So BDubs should have guessed that Etho asking about cat food would only end in a bittersweet ending.

“So Beefers, you said something about your cat food getting a new recipe… What happened with the old recipe? Not up to snuff?”

“I will have you know that all my cat food is premium and delicious, and I will not have you slandering it in this way,” replied an overdramatic Beef.

The nHo chuckled at his antics before Etho came back with, “Well if it wasn’t the quality then what was it? Now you have me intrigued.”

Beef shrugged. “I just wanted a cat food to really call my own is all.”

Etho gave him a look. “Wouldn’t the other cat food be yours too?”

“Well…” Beef looked deeply conflicted. BDubs decided to say it for him. “He was working for the Evil Emporium since he started to change into… I guess it’s an alien?”

Etho stilled at the name, and the rest of the group held their breaths. “Ah,” he replied, suddenly tight as a bowstring.

“Which is why I’m making a new brand of cat food, one which I’ll be selling from a shop near my base for diamonds,” soothed Beef, trying his best to keep Etho away from bad memories.

“I can see why you changed brands then,” replied Etho through a forced calm. He was not subtle in the least however. Bdubs wondered if the hurt in Etho's eyes was from the idea that his closest friend had supported the monster that had hurt him, or the idea that his friend would completely change his plans for the season due to one off script incident? Bdubs had a feeling it was definitely the former.

(BDubs had asked Xisuma after all was said and done if he remembered anything leading up to them being in front of the screen at his base. X had said the last thing he had remembered before that was meeting up with EvilX to discuss business strategies before blacking out after their customary greetings. He explained it had happened before, but he had somehow never thought much of the memory gaps. However, he agreed with the rest of the Hermits that had talked with him about it that it was a problem that would need to be investigated because it sounded like mind control. And a player that could control the server admin was a force too powerful to allow free. Or at the very least, a player that needed to have some very hard limits as to what they could do placed upon them.)

“You know, Etho, have you been ok?” asked Doc hesitantly. BDubs hoped that Doc knew what he was doing, because Bdubs was definitely lost.

Etho looked a bit like a cornered animal at the moment as he looked between the 3 of them like they had betrayed him. “Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?”

Doc gave him a look that BDubs thought was completely justified. “Etho, you went through an incredibly traumatic experience only a week or so ago. It is completely fine if you aren't doing ok.”

Etho sighed. “And what would you even do if I wasn't ok?”

Doc gave a hissy whine and moved from where he had been situated to sit close beside Etho. “Well, we'd figure out what we can do to make it a little closer to being ok.” He looked down at his lap. “I know I've been struggling with sleep recently, so I understand at least if you aren't sleeping either.” Etho looked vaguely stricken.

“You were part of the group that was watching, weren't you?” BDubs watched as Etho began to close off. Doc just nodded miserably. “And the two of you?”

BDubs felt gutted, knowing that Etho either didn't remember him breaking in to save him and holding his hand; or was purposefully ignoring the memory. “I stopped you from drowning more by blocking up the source block...” muttered Beef, looking pretty hurt himself.

“I found your enclosure and got the search party together to come finish breaking you out; and was there next to Beef when he was saving you,” finished Bdubs, a bit more of the hurt shining through because he couldn't hold a poker face even if his life depended on it. But also, Etho needed to see that he wasn't alone, in a lot of ways.

Etho looked appropriately chastised, if also incredibly grateful. “Thank you, all of you.” He leaned lightly into Doc's shoulder; the most affection he would normally show to anyone. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you 3, so thank you. Thank you so much.” They all politely ignored the sniffling coming from behind the mask, though Beef situated himself on Etho’s other side, and BDubs decided to try and strategically place himself on the floor in front of Beef so that if Etho wanted to lean a leg against him, he could. BDubs was so tempted to drape himself over Etho’s legs, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Etho probably wouldn’t handle being immobile in a sitting position well for the foreseeable future. However he was vindicated when his hair was playfully ruffled by an Etho hand as the 4 of them devolved into just sitting with each other.

BDubs should have guessed that Etho wouldn’t stay down long however, as Etho (after inconspicuously wiping the corners of his eyes dry) said, “so, who wants to help me prank the Boatem Crew?” BDubs could feel the devious smile creeping across his face.

“Now you’re speaking my language Canada boy!” Etho wheezed a quiet laugh above him.

“You sure you want to be slinging that kind of slander at me short stuff?”

“SHORT STUFF?!?!” BDubs got up in a huff. “I’LL SHOW YOU SHORT STUFF, YOU DAMN BEAN POLE!” Beef, Etho, and Doc all burst into chuckles, leaning into the couch as they tried to get themselves under control. “YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, DO YOU? Ooooooh, you are all playing a dangerous game!”

Etho and Doc proceeded to laugh harder, leaning against each other. “What are you going to do BDubs, bite our ankles?” asked Beef before breaking down laughing again.

“I’LL BITE YOUR ANKLES JUST WATCH ME!” and with that, BDubs was all over Beef, trying to get a solid shoulder punch in, but being thwarted at every turn. A stray punch at Doc, and suddenly everyone but Etho was rolling around the floor trying to playfully murder each other. Etho wheezed in laughter at their antics, and expertly avoided getting added into their mischief by eventually hopping up a ladder to the next floor and watching from the opening.

Eventually they managed to settle down, and by the time they had gathered themselves enough, it was night time. BDubs, with a lighter heart than when he had let in all his friends earlier in the day, said goodbye to them with promises that if Etho really was serious about pranking the Boatem Crew, the nHo would be right by his side. They left one by one, first Doc (who complained that he was already behind schedule on his build), then Beef (who playfully recommended Etho come help him run his shop if he wasn’t too busy helping Iskall dye prismarine), and lastly Etho. But before Etho departed, he said, “you know, I already thanked you, but I feel I should do it again.” He met BDubs’ gaze. “Thank you so much for finding me. I don’t know how that would have ended if you hadn’t caught sight of that place”.

BDubs was humbled by Etho’s gratitude, though he still replied with, “You’re my friend Etho, of course I would give it my all to find you. I’m just happy we were able to do so before it was too late. And if you ever need to get away from it all, it’s pretty nice out here once you get past all the big eyes.”

Etho wheezed a chuckle in response, a hidden smile brightening up the corners of his eyes. “Sure, I’ll keep that in mind. You take care of yourself now, you hear? I don’t want to be hearing of too many shenanigans from you, ok?”

BDubs laughed in response, and nodded. “Can do! And you do the same, ok?” He let the humor drain a bit, a more serious tone shining through. “If things get bad, please let someone know. Doc knows what happened, and he would be able to tell you who else was there that you could talk to if you needed it.”

Etho nodded. “Yeah, yeah. If it gets bad I always have Iskall and you guys.” Etho glanced at a clock in his inventory. “Looks like I should be off. If I start now, I should be able to get back before sunrise.” Etho waved goodbye as he turned to go.

“Stay safe! I’ll see you around then,” called out BDubs as he watched Etho quickly jog to the nearest source of water. Then, once acquired, he flew with the flick of his trident, starting his way back to the nether portal so as to make it back to his base safely.

BDubs went to bed that night content knowing that if Etho ever needed the help, he knew who he could reach out to.

-fin-

#bdouble0 #ethoslab #docm77 #vintagebeef #xisuma #iskall #hermitcraft #hc fanfic #hc fanfiction #hurt/comfort #my beloved #finally #zombiecleo #hypnotizd #final chapter #I hope to have this mirrored to AO3 soon if it isn't already #if AO3 would ever get me off the wait list orz

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ourcollectivefantasy · 4 years

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OC Profile

The Basics ––– –

Age: 480 (Human equiv. 48)

Birthday: October 18th.

Star Sign: Scorpio.

Race: Sin’Dorei / Blood Elf

Gender: Cisgender Male

Face / Body Claim: Ewan McGregor

Marital Status: Married, but separated [for over 10 yrs]. No plans for divorce.

Relationship practice: Polyamory

Server: Wyrmrest Accord - Horde (Faction Neutral)

Physical Appearance ––– –

Wardrobe: 80s London Punk. Black on black, otherwise greyscale or muted, cool colours. Studded leather jackets, spiked combat boots, vintage punk rock band t-shirts. Prefers solids with classic lines. Almost all clothes are second hand from Charity Shops.

Hair: Bright ginger. Short faux-hawk style with long sideburns. In the Winter months, keeps a trim beard.

Eyes: Emerald green.

Height: 6′7″

Build: Swimmer/Jogger's athletic, slim build. Slightly under weight but muscled.

Common Accessories: Wears lots of rings of bone, metal, and stone on his fingers. A plethora of necklaces and bracelets on each wrist. Carries a Dwarven vintage carved silver cigarette case & matching lighter. Never without his comm and his motorcycle keys. Concealed throwing daggers in inside jacket pocket, as well as a coil of steel guitar strings, and full dagger in his boot, always. Wears a small silver hoop earring in right ear.

Distinguishing Marks: Sprayed with freckles all over his body and face. Missing both middle fingers. Thin white scar across his throat (affects his voice; graveled). Silver coin sized scars on fronts and backs of hands and feet. Banishment symbol burned into his chest. Small K scar over his heart; large K scar on right shoulder.

Tattoos: Small sound wave behind left ear. Maiden’s Anguish at base of throat/along trapezius. Pirate ship (enchanted) on left bicep. Two birds holding banner that says ‘BAD SEED’ over a skull on right bicep. Troll-style boa constrictor wraps from right knee, up thigh, and across hip. Small gypsy clan symbol (skull ontop of a rose) on lower back.

Personal ––– –

Profession: Founder and CEO of Blacksong Records.

Hobbies: Partying - frequent patron of Succulent Tart, Howling Owl, and Red Moon. Recreational drugs & drinking. All things music: goes to punk rock concerts, buys and trades vintage records, plays mech-guitar, repairs broken guitar pedals and amps. Riding and repairing motorcycles. Extreme sports, primarily stunt biking and surfing.

Languages: Traveler (Native), King’s Common, Dwarven, Thalassian, Orcish Common, Sign Language.

Residence: Lordaeron Coast, and sometimes Silvermoon.

Birthplace: Quel’Thalas

Religion: Mildly Old Ways/Traveler (Pagan).

Relationships ––– -

Spouse: Kharris Dawndancer-Blacksong

Dating: Aelberyn & Jericho Bloodsword (Primaries), Saeil Moonblade, Se’lysona Riverblade.

Children: Aelenna Sinead “Sean” Bloodsword & Fib Bloodsword, both almost 5 yrs.

Parents: Maebh Blacksong & Daigh Blacksong (deceased).

Siblings: Younger brother, Kieran Blacksong.

Other Relatives: One female younger cousin, Fox. Status unknown.

Sex & Romance ––– –

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Preferred Role: Dominant | Submissive | Switch

Preferred Position: Bottom | Top | Vers

Libido: Extremely High

Turn ons: Power, confidence, high intelligence, witty sense of humor, empathy, submissiveness, great conversation, flirty.

Turn offs: Trying-too-hard, mind games, wall flowers, air heads, big egos, pretty but no substance, bad conversationalists, people that only talk about themselves, drama queens, brats.

Love Language: Quality Time & Physical Touch

Kinks: BDSM, WAM, leather & latex, sensory deprivation, mask play, blood play, knife play, age or pet play, dirty talk, phone sex & sexting, being watched/performing or watching, sharing/group sex, cuckolding, orgies, sex clubs, casual sex.

Relationship Tendencies: Prefers casual sex and FWB. Romance adverse, and very selective about who he gets into commitments with. Once committed, stays in relationships a very long time and plays the emotional role of Dominant, with a focus on care giving and very protective.

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open-Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: Often. Smokes mainly bloodthissle. Drugs: Often. Very into party drugs. Long history of struggle with heroin. Alcohol: Often. “Defaults” to functioning alcoholic, but can get crazy at parties.

RP Hooks ––– –

Music Fans - He runs a small but successful punk rock music label. If you’re into rock, punk, or even just a music fan, you’ve probably heard of Blacksong Records or even one of his bands. You may even know his face from music magazines; he’s often in the background at concerts or industry parties. Feel free to mention it!

Pirates & Sailors - He used to run a very successful and well known salvage company (Atlas Treasure Salvage, or ATS). They were well known in the Booty Bay, Bilgewater, and Orgrimmar ports. It’s possible you saw him around “in the old days”.

Drugs - He’s well connected among drug dealers as both a buyer and seller. Got a big party you want to sell to? He’s your in. Or maybe you’re looking for pure quality and tired of thugs selling you stems in the Drag? He’ll get you the good stuff if you’re willing to pay top coin.

Motorcycles - He’s a frequent shopper at gear head garages around Quel’Thalas. He also stops off at biker taverns for a pint on the way home from work. You may have seen him. Or maybe you just notice the brand of his jacket or boots are a familiar favourite amongst aficionados.

Gossip Rags - Is your character SUPER into Silvermoon tabloids? Iloam is “reportedly” dating one of the hottest couples of the SMC Elite crowd, Baron & Baroness Aelberyn & Jericho Bloodsword. Paps frequently snap them slipping into vine covered cafes and exclusive night clubs. Your character may have a theory on the whole ‘are they or arent they’ debate that keeps socialites guessing on the trio’s relationships status.

OOC Info ––– –

Mun is 21+ in age. Dark themes/ERP friendly.

I have been playing WoW since the beta for Vanilla and gone through many phases of enjoying PvE aspect (including a raiding guild), but at this point I only play for RP and have no interest in game play. I prefer Discord text RP for 1:1 or small group scenes. I generally only login to game for RP events or by request.

For text RP, I am very bad about forum style/casual post RP and will generally lose track of it quickly. I also try to stray from forum style post on Tumblr for the same reason. The best way to RP with me to set a date/time to both login to Discord or game and set aside several hours to write out a scene together.

I’m a very fast typer and tend to do multi-para for scene sets only, and then fall into a more natural rhythm as the scene plays out. I do not ask that partners match my post length.

Communication is very important to me. OOC discussion of dark themes or comfort level with ERP will be discussed first. I am happy to FTB or avoid topics that are triggering. I also ask that my partners always feel comfortable letting me know if for any reason big or small, they need to cancel a scene or are not feeling up to it. Real life will always come first.

Contact Information ––– –

@ourcollectivefantasy is Iloam’s In-Character blog, shared with characters of Aelberyn and Jericho Bloodsword.

@blacksongrecords is Iloam’s record company blog. Look here for event announcements!

All follows from my OOC blog @desolatedangel.

I am reachable in-game via mail on the name: Ilóam

Feel free to send me an ask or message for my Discord handle, but if we haven’t met before I prefer we mutually follow each other’s Tumblr and interact a little bit before giving that out.

#character profile #iloam blacksong #please boost #if you so desire #:)#UPDATED #although I realize Ive never done one of these??#lol

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rhimorechill · 5 years

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my bmc au's that are very, very closely linked to minecraft

for that anon who asked some time ago

a little context to these: i love minecraft fan content. roleplays, fanfics, alternate forms of gameplay, the like. and, of course, bmc is severely lacking minecraft content, so i decided to remedy that just a bit with these seven au's !

(please note: the endgame for every one of these is meremine, whether romantic or qpr. the other ships i'm not particularly picky on, but do keep in mind that that is the shipping context on those three. another thing of note is that jenna is aroace, and i tend to lean on making characters aro, just because i want to. they're all tight-knit, too, since i as an aro person desperately want them to be found family-esque. this "shippy" aspect is not up for discussion in any way)

of course, a collection of minecraft au's wouldn't be complete without the ever-standard "they met online through a video game" au. i've got... quite a bit latched onto this au, honestly.

michael runs a faction, whereas jeremy plays on factions without one just raiding and doing whatever. jeremy and christine do a lot on creative, roleplaying their hearts out. and i feel the whole trio plays skyblock. i really like skyblock. it can't be helped.

the squip only appears momentarily in this au as a griefer. they're banned from minecraft forever for their crimes.

the whole squad eventually makes a town together. i forget what i decided the name was but it's funky and they have a blast !! towny is... a delight.

jake is a server staff member and mr. reyes owns the server ! jake enjoys some creative roleplay and he's probably in michael's faction.

eventually they do all meet up ! first they meet in their little mini groupings but they also definitely have a big old get-together where they're like hello fellow minecrafters !!!

it's honestly been a while since i've talked about this au, which is a shame, because it's great fun ! i adore it.

the next au, one of my all-time fave au's, is based loosely on the pixel trapped series by ash schmidt.

i call it the earthcraft au, because the premise is that the worlds of minecraft and earth were once one world called earthcraft, but have since split.

jeremy, michael, rich, thomas (rich's brother), jenna, and chloe live in minecraft, while christine, dustin, jake, brooke, and madeline live on earth. squip is an evil wizard with an extended lifespan who lives in minecraft, but doesn't particularly interact with the squad outside of pulling them into different worlds or sending monsters that have been drained of personal magic after them.

eventually, squip gets shoved into the void, earthcraft is reformed (although.... it does have a bit of a split where all the people i don't want on earthcraft get to rot on a dying world), and the kids are reunited with their parents- except for jake and the goranskis, whose parents can rot in hell.

this one is based off of the minecraft diaries roleplay series by aphmau ! i was a huge fan in middle school, and i'm quite fond of the premise and such. it might have some narrative decisions i disliked, but it was a good story, in my opinion.

so, jeremy wakes up in the middle of the woods, outside a village. he has.... no memory, of anything. in the village, he meets michael and christine, two guards who are glad he wants to join the village and help out.

the village's lord recently died, so they're trying to find a replacement while rebelling against a neighboring evil ruler that wants more territory who happens to be michael's brother (he has two)- squip.

there's also the whole shadow knights thing, which i don't feel like getting into right now, and also the thing where jeremy and his associates are literally godly beings.

(whether it be that they're the latest reincarnation.... or they wiped their memories recently in the hopes of not having to suffer as their closest friends died and reincarnated and died again.... the usual)

this next one is a joyous adventure in learning ! it's based on the wonder quest series by stampylongnose, just the first season, really.

jeremy and christine are an adventuring duo on the search for cake ! just when they manage to find some, though, they fall into the world of wonderburg- a wonderful (hehe) town full of curiosity..... usually.

however, their sense of wonder has been stolen by a heinous wizard named squip, who desperately wants to be found funny ! his brother, another wizard named michael, has summoned the pair to help him track down the pieces of the wonder cube- a magical gem that provides wonderberg with its everlasting wonder- that squip broke.

there's many shenanigans, as squip tries to send his henchmen rich and jake after them- but they mostly just mess around,- and lots of learning ! it all comes to a close with squip realizing they can just subject themself to physical pain for laughs... which is, at the end of the day, all they really wanted.

(i feel i should clarify: the reason they haven't found another way to be funny is because they literally do not understand jokes. they just want people to laugh at their jokes. they do not care what it takes to get those laughs. if getting blasted with fireballs repeatedly gets laughs, they're down for it.)

this au is also one of my all-time faves !! it's based on the fairytale fallout roleplay series by bbpaws and dangthatsalongname !!

(tw for: implications of/references to abuse, mentions of cannibalism, kidnapping, all particularly with children as the victims)

so, christine and michael are two friends that are trying to play some minigames in the multiverse of minecraft worlds, but when they try to jump through the portal into the lobby, they instead wind up in the world of misthaven. while trying to figure where they are and what's going on, the duo stumbles across a tower in the middle of the woods.

this tower is home to none other than jeremy heere, a kid with a really, really long scarf that he knit as a replacement for the lengthy hair he's chopped off. he sends michael and christine on a quest for enough dyes to change his scarf to rainbow, and in return he gives them a painting and joins them on their adventure.

as it turns out, misthaven has been cursed by a witch (note the pattern) so that all the fairytale characters who live there no longer have their happy endings. the town has also been left in ruin.

however, michael and christine were prophesied to arrive and save the land with the aid of jeremy so... now they're doing that. and what better way to fight evil magic than to help out its very victims ?

(rich and his brother are the witch's henchmen, but extremely unwillingly and only to the extent that they carry out her orders while also making it so they're essentially nonfunctional. the witch is rich's squip and her brother is the mother gothel to jeremy's rapunzel- and also jeremy's squip.)

this one's a skyblock au ! i love them funky islands in the sky. basically, the whole squad lives in a skyblock version of the minecraft worlds, in a hub of islands. it's pretty simple, but it's nice. jeremy, michael, and christine are on a set of islands that are right next to each other, so they coordinate island expansion.

this last one is a crack au. it's based off this one post by @/rockflavors, i believe, where minecraft diamonds are declared to have the taste of mountain dew baja blast. please, just... go with it.

naturally, i decided this meant jeremy could and would eat a minecraft diamond as an alternative to drinking mountain dew, given the chance. so, in this universe, minecraft is extra popular ! rock candy for minecraft diamonds that's made with mountain dew baja blast exists.

squip is activated Extra Chill™, fully decked out in vacation gear and a minecraft diamond shovel ! upgrade probably features jeremy eating a second diamond to upgrade the shovel into a sword.

the most important parts of this au are the kickoff and the party: the halloween party where everyone dresses up as minecraft mobs. and michael...... dresses up as a dolphin. the plan is to seduce jeremy into listening to him. i haven't actually thought about the showdown, so whether it works..... is up for debate.

to be frank with you, i have no idea how this one works out. it's weird and i really don't think about it all too much, but it is fun, too.

so that..... is the summation of my au's. i tried to not drown you in too much information, 'cause god knows i could. if you want to hear more about a specific one (not the crack au, though, since that one is mostly a throwaway i had fun brainstorming the basis of and not much more), you could hit me up in dms ? or send an ask. though, keep in mind, i prefer dms because i don't really like building posts about my au's. it makes me feel a lot more exposed.

#bmc #be more chill #rhi.txt #minecraft #i guess ? enjoy me just rambling about these #this is a scheduled post btw i did not wake up at.... whenever i'm scheduling this for

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beautifulramblingbrains · 6 years

Text

Woke - Chapter 2

Pairing: Eric/OC Fandom: Divergent / Insurgent Rating: M - Frequent bad language and sensitive subjects.

In the middle of corruption, our Leader deviates through a twisted world - and mind. Can he save himself? Does he want to be saved? He isn’t playing a heroes game. But something might just grow on him.

A/N: You can read the first chapter here. And thank you all for reading, commenting, reblogging etc. I know, these are really long chapters, so make sure you grab a cuppa before you start :)

Tags: @2toastersbang @singingpeople @pathybo @equalstrashflavoredtrash @clublulu333 @jojuarez26 @tigpooh67@murmelinchen @vitaevandal @lilu46 @mom2reesie@frecklefaceb @beltzboys2015-blog @ariwolff14 @angelswannawearmyredshooz - this is not letting me tag you? @lunaschild2016 @kirstenisntkirsty - same? @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @lauraaan182 (If I have forgotten anyone please message me.)

Impractical. It’s probably the fifth time I’ve noted the structure as impractical. Trees grow freely, and the tree inside the dome already reaches the very top of the domed ceiling. Dangerous, I scribble to accompany my list of impracticalities.

I’m not as poetic as my father, it appears.

Looking around me, nobody cares that I’m here. They have permanent smiles and greet each other in passing like it’s the best day of their lives. Free love goes a long way. It’s notable by the many children clambering about the place.

It’s like taking a step back in time - before the dinosaurs.

“Mr. Coulter.” I recognize this voice, it’s Joe, and I turn my head over my shoulder to acknowledge him. “Johanna sent me to give you these. Initiate quotas, list of recent emergencies... I think there is a crime record in there too, though, it’s not very big. There are other records in her office that she hasn’t had time to put together.” He shifts through some laminated folders until he finds what he’s looking for. “Ah, here it is. It’s actually quite interesting for me, but for you, I’d hardly find anything troublesome.”

I spot Johanna exiting the barn at last in the distance, Jimmy not far behind. A bird flies overhead that captures my attention, and when I look back, I see the flailing red skirt. I step a little closer to him and keep my voice low. “Joe, what’s her story?”

It takes him a minute to catch up, following my eyeline until he sees her. “Ah, yes, Fleur. An assistant of Johanna’s by choice. A good worker. Far more hours than the average.”

“The average woman or man?” My voice is distant.

“Both,” he tells me and I take a moment to frown at him. “Why?”

“She might be a good person for me to talk to.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed. “You know, I work closely with Johanna more often than not, too?”

“Everything you have said or done is going into the report, Joe.” My smile is forced, but he seems happy enough. “Now, if you don’t mind. I only have one and a half days left to study an entire faction.” He crosses his arms and stands with me for a long time not realizing I’ve dismissed him. When he catches me, he drops his stance, and motions that he’s going elsewhere. I have every faith he will blab to her that I made an inquiry.

I’ll study the faction on foot, take my notes, and begin writing an official document tonight.

The ease to write comes to me by the time the sky begins to darken and I find myself half invested into it beside me while I eat. It’s back in the dome that the Amity folk cram themselves inside to keep warm and share food between each other; families and single members alike. Regardless of the sunshine in the day, the night is cool.

There is a small band playing old instruments in the corner quietly, and I’m fully aware of the darkness of mine and Jimmy’s clothes along with a small squadron standing out in the array of cream and orange.

I find eating easier by now. I’m used to this place. And Jimmy doesn’t seem to be at all bothered, stuffing as much food in his face as possible. “Try the bread,” I goad him, chuckling to myself when he doesn’t bat an eyelid and takes some from the middle. Between the tables there are servers taking finished plates, replacing food. It’s easy to forget our world in a place like this. But I’m like a dog with a bone. I didn’t realize how deep rejection had hit because I spend one-third of my time scanning the tables.

If she was here, what would I even do? Talk to her? - Most likely not. Apologise for being so bumbling before? - No. Explain how it would be incredible if she would take her clothes off for me? That may have worked one time before when I was twenty, but not now. The memory makes me cringe enough as it is. And besides, this is not Dauntless, and I am nothing but a forgettable face.

I haven’t been interested in sexual encounters for so long that this time it’s slightly thrown me. Usually, it’s kind of a convenience; something I fell into, or on. But she didn’t even particularly show she was interested and I wonder if that’s why I’m so irritated. She was only polite because I am a Leader of another faction. Fleur, it’s a dumb name anyway.

“...come with us tonight, we’ll show you around,” a charismatic soldier speaks mainly to Jimmy, filtering into my thoughts.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, and the table seems to be on in some joke. I just stay quiet and sip my water. “Few cabins round here get lively at night. It’s all that peace serum. Peace in the woods. Peace in the fields…”

“Eric?” Jimmy asks. “What you doing after?”

“I’ve got work to do.” I wipe my mouth and stand up, claiming my exit.

“You’re going to miss dessert,” he says, but the guy next to him squeezes his shoulder.

“There’s enough dessert to go around.”

Scoffing, I pick up my notes and make my exit without looking back.

There is something therapeutic about viewing my own writing. Usually, everything is computer based; emails and the like. But in my own handwriting, it’s a sense of accomplishment.

Putting an arm over my head, I sigh back on the limp pillows, drawing the pen up to bite it. As therapeutic as it is, my mind is racing. I glance at my father’s book beside me, under the hue of the orange lamp. This time of night I wouldn’t be in bed. I’d be in the Pit, with Frank, or in my apartment throwing back the nearest concoction.

If they could see me now - legs up, jacket off, pen in hand - they would think something is wrong with me.

The thought forces me to my feet, groaning for the sake of my shoulders persistence. I change into my sweats and gym shoes and prepare myself to take on the unpredictable Amity footpaths.

At first, my pace is slow but with time my muscles begin to give way to the point I’m hammering the paths, between the trees, my own breathing and heart pulsing in my ears. I want to feel the burn. I want to feel the pain.

I push myself to go faster until I’m wheezing, to the point of my body’s refusal. And it all happens at once. My breath catching the cool night air, my chest tight, my shoulder screaming, I stop suddenly and bend down, grimacing to myself.

Maybe that’s what my jumbled thoughts were, a pent-up energy. Running in Amity freely sure beats concrete in Dauntless.

Rubbing my face of the sweat that threatens to drip into my eyes, I put my hands on my hips and breathe in deeply, staring up to what appears to be lifeless cabins bar the one or two with the lights still on. Some I can see clearly into, some just brightly lit curtains. And upon my stroll back, I make random scenarios of what the families are doing inside.

I’m drawing my walk home out for the fact that I have nothing to go back to and what lies waiting for me at Dauntless will be careening back to me the moment I’m home in the afternoon. I’m lost here, like a limbo, nobody to bother me. And I don’t know whether it is a good or bad thing to be left alone with a swirling brain like mine.

Even in the midst of pure moonlight, in the dark - a favorite hour of mine - my sense of purpose is questionable.

A flash of light catches me off-guard; a room being lit up, and I miss my step, frowning until the realization hits me of who I’m watching. Looking to the ground, I contemplate moving on, pocketing my hands like I’ve been caught, though it is merely a coincidence.

But in the mirror of her small room, she doesn’t see me as she stares at herself in the reflection, mousy hair draped over her shoulders which she pulls to one side to brush through. Fleur’s face is anything other than impressed by what she sees, kind of sad, like the impression she gave with her shifty behavior earlier. Standing back and gripping the bottom of her white top, she lifts it in a practiced fashion to show her bare back to me, her front exposed in the mirror, braless, and my lamenting scoff to myself is purposely victorious.

Should I knock and tell her I can see her, that the whole neighborhood could? - Maybe she doesn’t care. Checking around me, everything is deadly quiet, not a soul. If I stand here and watch, does that make me creepy or lustful, or plain lucky?

She unzips the side of her skirt and it falls away from her hips, her hands going to the top of her underwear. Whether it’s only in my mind or not, but it’s painstakingly slow, watching the material drag down her skin.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I whisper to myself.

Smirking, I back away, finding the path back to my cabin. My goal is to have that. My mind's made up.

Jimmy’s about to knock but I throw the door open, his hand still caught in the air. “Goodmorning,” I say, quite cheerily, him rightfully frowning at me. He looks a mess. An obviously late night. I roam over his attire critically. “Sort your uniform out.” My shoulder hits his as I pass, and I can hear him stumbling behind me to keep up. “You’re on stock intake this morning. You need to go to the warehouses and get the annual turnover of produce for me.

“There’s like twenty?”

My smile is anything but pleasant. “Good thing we’re starting early... And there is fifteen. Overhaul is stored at the other faction’s warehouses.”

“Where are you going? How will I find you after?”

“I’ll be around.” A group of Amity pass in their bright clothes. “I’m not exactly hard to miss.”

Eyeing up Johanna’s long barn just pass the dome, my practical head is on top form. Just from a look, Jimmy knows to be on his way, and I march across the dirt still slightly damp from the cooler night.

There is no one inside, the place open to anyone who might be even slightly interested. As a start, I head for the main office. Of course, everything is above the stables, so I take the textured steps up, surveying the open landing and all the rooms filtering off into sections. Down the hall I can see the door open to the makeshift boardroom we were in yesterday and it gives me a better sense of the layout.

Off the large landing, I spy Johanna’s room, open with only glass walls and multiple blurred lines that are pointless for privacy. There are drawers upon drawers and one metal filing cabinet.

This is going to take me the best part of the day.

By eleven, there are voices traveling towards me. In the meantime, I’ve been enthusiastically pulling apart her office. When Johanna appears, I welcome her to the devastation. If she is unhappy, she hides it well. Though, any man could see her eyes drifting around, thinking how the fuck she was going to put this place back together.

Concentrating back to the papers in my hand, my overall discoveries are hardly troubling, more irritating. “I’m ready to visit the holding cells. I have reason to believe they are going to be in a lackluster condition as not fucking once have you filed any criminal activity apart from random names. And some of the dates are missing.” Holding up the paper, a second part of it drops down haggardly. “And, taking a guess, it’s about a hundred years old. It pains me to think of what condition the infirmary is in.” It’s also quite clear Max has done a piss poor job in the past - which I scribble down as a reminder.

“Usually our mishaps are very lowkey.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I say sharply, lifting my head to movement. Fleur glances at me, standing just behind Johanna, but I look away feigning disinterest. “Now, the holding cells?” I insist to which Johanna purses her lips. It’s obvious she was not expecting to find me here, not just yet, and not like this. “Is there a problem?”

“Erm, well, no… It’s just, between eleven and twelve I deal with simple law of the land and community problems. I’m expecting a visit any minute.”

Bingo. I knew as much from yesterday. “No problem. Shall we?” I gesture to Fleur with a tilt of my head. She holds my eyes for a second, then nods and looks towards the floor, turning on her heel. Just as I get to Johanna I stop. “I’m sorry about the mess.”

Johanna forces a smile. “No worries.”

When Fleur stops in front of me in the small lobby of the holding cells, her hands ball into fists as I approach from behind and purposefully brush past her. “What the hell is this?” I burst out upon eyeing the holding area, which consists of literally three square rooms and bars like something out of an old cowboy movie. They are all empty, gathering dust. There is even a hole in the roof beaming in sunlight and exposing particles in the air.

“Johanna doesn’t like to keep anyone in here for more than a few hours, if at all. It’s... inhumane.” I forgot the sound of her voice, soft but listless.

“Right…” I sigh. “This needs to be rectified. With no authority at all, it spells fucking trouble.” Grabbing one of the bars, I wiggle it, hearing it swirl in the concrete. “How do you think she’d feel if Dauntless took over the policing completely? A more permanent arrangement?”

“Probably relieved? She can blame Dauntless for the hospitality then.”

Smirking, I turn to look over at her. She wears red again today, this time a simple dress with it tied in at her waist. There are remnants of a fringe she has grown out, lighter parts in her hair that catch. With her in a light-hearted mood, I’m going to try my luck. “Listen,” my voice comes out like velvet, leaning up against the nearest wall. She’s been watching me roaming over her attire and hasn’t moved a muscle, which can only be seen as a good sign. “I have got to admit something.” Her expression never falters - unreadable. “I was jogging late last night... and I got a nice little surprise show from you in return.”

“Welcome to Amity,” she says unenthusiastically. She’s not embarrassed, she’s not scared, she’s nothing other than bland.

I try a different tactic. “Why do I get the expression you hate me and despise the ground I walk on?”

Shrugging, she strolls over to an old desk, black with dirt apart from a few old handprints, and skims a finger across. Her lips rise ever so slightly as she scoffs, “I don’t hate you. I just don’t know you.”

Weird, as Amity seem to be all about meet-and-greets. “We could change that,” I say, taking a step closer.

“I think you have far too much work to be taking part in getting to know me.”

“I’m a great multi-tasker.” Only my boots scuff along the ground, and she turns when I get up close.

She has ‘come get me’ eyes, long eyelashes that seem to sweep when she blinks or avoids my gaze - like what she is doing right now. “You were watching me?” she asks curiously after a pause.

“It was hard not to.”

“Careful, Dauntless aren’t supposed to show weaknesses. Is a lack of restraint your weakness?”

She’s testing me, I can see it. Using that little womanly innocence she has to dare to ask such questions. “I admit, at times I’m impulsive. But that’s few and far between. You were hardly shy last night. If you didn’t want to be watched then you would have made sure to shut your curtains.”

“If you are expecting me to take my clothes off for you, I’m sorry, but you are going to be greatly disappointed, Mr. Coulter.”

“Worth a try…” That was risky on my behalf, but I like the way she finally smiles to herself, slightly blushing, hardly expecting my reply.

“You are so confident…”

“Kind of comes with the job. I would apologize, but I don’t see what for.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” She bites her lip, and in my third eye, I see myself ripping at her pretty red dress and bending her over the old desk in here. But I resist, using my ‘restraint’.

Fleur breathes in suddenly and moves away, breaking whatever had begun to shift between us. “We should head to the infirmary… to be finished before twelve.”

“Lead the way,” I gesture. At least I’ll have a nice view on the journey.

“We prefer traditional methods and ailments. The older generation are convinced they don’t need the help of Erudite supplying them. Our treatments work to an extent,” Fleur tells me. “For the treatment they do need - which isn’t available freely - they usually get aid from their families or neighbors to be able to afford it. And if you hadn’t noticed, Amity tend to have big families and a ‘what’s mine is yours’ attitude.”

“You speak like you’re not from Amity yourself?”

Fleur crosses her arms and stops in the corridor of the infirmary, gazing into one of the rooms. “This is my faction. I chose this faction.”

“Did I touch a nerve?” I ask, looking up from my notepad.

“No, I’m over it. My family abandoned me the moment I chose.” She looks to me then smiles gravely. “Did you want to see any other rooms while you’re here?”

“What’s your original faction?”

“It’s been so long it doesn’t matter,” she says quietly. “There are surgery rooms further down if you wanted to check them out. As you can see it’s not in the same state as the holding cells.”

She takes a step but I grab her arm and snarl, “I asked you a question.”

“My chosen faction is my faction. Whatever was is forgotten and I intend on keeping it that way.” Uncurling my hand the moment she gazes down at it, she gathers her composure. “What would you like to do?” I frown at her in confusion and she says, “...It is lunchtime.”

There is something compelling about her. Perhaps it’s the inner strength she has - the coldness, the mystery. Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t show any fear and hardly cowers at all, not even when my mood shifts unpredictably to the ways I act out in Dauntless.

“Have lunch with me?” The question tumbles out, so unlike me. But away from Dauntless, my senses have unwinded; those tight coils of suffocation slowly loosening, the gun next to my bed and the urge to pull the trigger, distant. I want to think about something other than work or myself. And what’s more, is that she makes me want to. That is what I find fascinating. “I’ll be out of your way this afternoon. I won’t be coming back.”

“You’re supposed to be working.”

“I told you, I’m a great multi-tasker. Don’t make it sound like a chore now.” There’s a long moment of silence where I begin to doubt myself. “I don't ask twice.”

A nurse passes between us, greeting us both politely. When she is out of earshot, Fleur puts a hand on the doorframe and loosens her stance. “Okay.” I hadn’t thought past her accepting, and now I’m stumped when she cooly roams over my uniform, lingering at the tattoos on my neck. “But I don’t eat in the dome.”

“I’m good with take-away.”

“What about park benches?”

My frown hurts. And then I realize - my shoulder doesn’t.

Bringing the sandwich up to my mouth, I hesitate. Fleur told me the sandwich bread wasn’t laced with peace serum but I’m always unsure. I glance over to her taking a bite and decide it should be okay. When she moves, it brings my attention away from the small pond we sit in front of, fish just viewable through the murky water skimming the surface on occasion.

“You have a lot of notes,” she says distantly, peering out ahead of her. The papers sit like a wall between us. “I hope Amity cracked up to what it was meant to be.”

“Surprisingly, I haven’t been shocked by anything. It’s not my first time here, it’s just been a while.” Tugging at my collar, my body is screaming for its daily dose.

She picks a piece of bread and throws it into the water. “Amity are good people. I like the fact that we are out of the loop with the other factions. I even believe the Factionless view us differently. We don’t get harassed by them as much as I hear from the others.”

“If you’re digging for what I’m writing about, don’t worry. I’m not aware of any changes apart from basics happening here.” Scowling, I take another bite, sitting further back and throwing a leg out while the nuisance pain strikes with a vengeance.

“I’m not digging.” She’s quiet as she chews. “Can I read them?”

I snort, kicking at the dirt with my outstretched leg. “No.” Rolling my shoulder, I shove the last piece of sandwich in my mouth and sit up, putting my elbows on my knees.

“Can I see?”

“I told you, no.”

“Not the notes, where you have pain.”

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I’m irritated and fidgeting, trying not to show any expression on my face. “My shoulder. It’s nothing. Unless you want me to take my clothes off for any other reason?” I smirk over at her.

“If that were the case, I’d ask you.”

“Mysterious and blunt, what a powerful personality,” I say.

“I could say the same for you… So, you won’t show me anything? Not your writing, not your scars, nor tell me what you are thinking?” There’s a smile to her voice.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking instead?” I brush her off, reaching for my bottle of water and unscrewing the lid.

“Where is the fun in that? And, you wanted to have lunch with me.”

I forgot I have a kink for inflicting torture upon myself. “You wouldn’t like me all that much if you really knew my thoughts.” Taking a long chug of my water, my hand quakes.

“Who says I like you at all?” She smiles mischievously when I glance over to her which tells me the exact opposite.

“For one, you’re still sitting here, asking me passive questions, and eating a dry sandwich. For two,” my lips rise up all on their own. “You’re trying to trick me into taking my clothes off.” She merely bursts out laughing, and it’s contagious.

Clicking her tongue after her laughter filters out, she sighs softly. “I’m thinking you should take your jacket off.”

“So, I was right?” I grin gleefully, feeling a bit lightheaded from laughing, which is weird because I can’t remember the last time I did.

“Partly.” She stands up and I watch her critically, rounding the bench to stand behind me.

“Which part?” I ask, her hands still stained with henna distracting me when they grip my shoulder, the smell of faint perfume, the pale underside of her arm seeming so delicate. She squeezes, kneading into my neck and it’s hard for me to relax. It’s like feeling constricted, bugs crawling up the skin of my legs. I want to stand up and repel away, instead, I opt to just turn my head and shrug her off. “Don’t.”

“I was only trying to help.” Dejectedly, she clasps her hands, the wind kicking up the skirt of her dress, her hair swaying in the breeze. “I should have asked. Maybe I’ve been in Amity too long.”

My laugh sounds somewhat condescending, yet it’s anything but. “I say that to myself about Dauntless.” Putting a hand through the shaved part of my hair, I’m starting to feel like a cunt.

“Is it because… there is someone in Dauntless waiting for you?”

“It’s because,” I begin, standing up and facing her with the bench as a wedge between us. “It’s,” I exhale sharply, instinctively lifting a hand up to feel the pill bottle inside my jacket. The job I do; only the other night putting a bullet between a sixteen-year-olds eyes, the screams, the blood on my hands. “I’m not worth helping,” I finally finish. “I’m a dangerous man.” Fleur’s eyes flash between mine, the crevice of a frown between her two neat eyebrows. “I’m not looking…” I stammer for the first time in a very long while. “I don’t want or need sympathy.”

Fleur crosses her arms and forces a smile, one that does falter. “If you’re ever going to change your mind…” she trails off, gazing back up the path. She gets up, shaking her head. Brushing past me, she says, “You know what? Don’t even bother.”

I scoff to myself in surprise as I listen to her footsteps fading away, popping the pills and swallow. I snort humorously - who does she even think she is? “I’m not bothering, don’t worry,” I say to no one in particular, feeling like a jackass nonetheless.

“Thank you, Eric, for all the hard work you have put in over the last two days,” Johanna shakes my hand. Hard work? She should try getting from one side of the Pit to the other on a Friday night.

Joe is next, shaking enthusiastically, and I hope to damn god I never see any of them again. “It’s been a real pleasure,” he tells me. “It helps to make us feel a part of the city we live in, though we are so far out of touch.”

“That’s great.” I whack his shoulder hard and turn my back on him, looking to Jimmy behind me. “You ready? He nods and jumps up into the truck, leaving me the window seat. As the truck starts, I keep my eyes out to the front, but I know I’m going to be catching glimpses of red for days - whether that is on my hands, or of Her skirt.

Pulling up to the Lot in Dauntless brings a weight upon my shoulders, namely - my bad shoulder as I roll it out. I was hardly expecting a welcoming party, so to see the one lone man, bringing his arms up in a huge gesture towards himself, is somewhat of a surprise. Frank obviously couldn’t wait for me to get back.

When the engine dies and I hop down, he strolls over with his trench coat open, a massive grin that he’s known for. “My boy!” he exclaims loudly over the emptying of the truck, man-hugging me and patting my back like it’s been years. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling.”

“I haven’t looked at my phone since the reception went. I’ll turn it on tonight,” I say, just as Jimmy tiredly steps to my side.

“How was the honeymoon?” Frank laughs, greeting Jimmy in the same fashion.

Smirking, I peer at Jim. “There was a lot of honey.”

“Is that so?” Frank winks before his expression turns serious. “Eric, we gotta talk. Now.” Suddenly thinking of Max, something ice-cold drops down my back. “You be on your way, Jim.” Corralling me away from the truck, there is a shift in his stance; a lowering of his head, but shoulders stiff, glancing around us. “If I’d have known about Amity, there were a few things I could’ve got you to do - check out for me, while you were there.”

“It was a fast arrangement. I didn’t know until an hour before and I had things to organize.”

“I get that.” He pulls out a cigarette and offers me one, which I take. He waits for the people to filter out of the lot before speaking again, keeping his voice low. “This is more of a personal thing. None of the other boys know.”

I laugh sardonically. “You got secret kids you’re not telling me about?”

“No, man.” He smacks my arm. “I got family in Amity.”

I stare blankly at him for a long moment. “You have family... in Amity? Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not,” he assures, taking a long drag. “And family as in just one family member…. I hope. Kind of a sweet-sour subject, so if you’d humor me a little bit of low judgment that would be great.”

“What about them?” I’m growing bored already of his long-ass, splintered sentence structures.

“I want to know how my little flower is doing.” I zone out instantly, thinking of Her. The waves in my brain buzz, my ears ringing. “She won’t speak to me. I get a very brief message from a nobody that goes out there on security turnovers. I tried calling you, boy. And this is why.”

My head begins to throb, specifically over my eyes. I rub my eyebrows frantically, feigning tiredness. “She?” Swallowing, my throat has gone dry, and my gut hasn’t caught up with my mind. “You could have sent an email, that would’ve got to me.”

“You know I prefer face to face or voice to voice for professional purposes. And she, as in, my half-sister.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, flicking his cigarette. “It’s a real long story. Daddy had a side-chick. Side-chick has baby. Sister goes Dauntless to Amity.”

“Why?” I cough suddenly, making Frank laugh. “Why have you never told me?”

“No reason to. You know what I said in the past, right? About people finding connections and…” he trails off distantly, staring over at the truck. “...weaknesses. It’s always used against you.” He grips my shoulder, meeting my eye. “Are you going back to Amity?”

“I don’t intend to. But then, I haven’t seen Max. And I won’t know anything until tomorrow. Got some work to do at home to get this finished.”

“So, you’re not heading out with us tonight?”

I shrug, “Duty calls,” knocking his hand from my shoulder.

“You get the word you’re visiting Amity again, you tell me, brother. I mean it.” Come to think of it, as I face him, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. I wonder if this is what Max had seen in me the night before he sent me to Amity. “Let’s get out of here, it’s freezing. Balls are going to drop off…” He begins to walk away, towards the parking lot’s steel door. “You up for a beer?”

I’m still far behind, hands shoved into my pockets, following a crack in the ground before letting my head tilt up, trying to seem impassive. “What’s her name?” My voice cuts through the chilled air, and Frank hesitates for the best part of several seconds, holding the door open, one foot in, one foot out, like my mind and loyalties. Maybe a sign, an unconscious sign…

“Fleur,” he says. Slowly, he points inside. “Beer?”

“No. Got work to do,” I say.

“Hm, work.” He pouts for a moment, seemingly thinking of talking back but eventually just nods. “I’ll catch you tomorrow morning then.”

My holdall is dumped the moment I set foot inside the door, slamming it shut behind me, looking at the pitiful excuse of the place I call home. It’s far from the freedom of Amity; a dungeon, a place where my most decrepit thoughts linger, hitting me straight in the face.

I pace a few times up and down, past the kitchen island, eyeing up my laptop on the end. The moment I turn it on I know the emails will come flooding in, my initiate reports long and boring. But what I can also do is search the database through my home laptop, using the network accessed by senior members, like myself, Max, Frank…

Running a hand down my face, the realization of spending almost half a day with Frank’s sister; seeing her naked, lusting after her, trying my hand at flirting, is wrong. If he found out…

The thought strikes me that perhaps someone saw me with her. That maybe an informant will give their information to Frank. My part was totally innocent. I didn’t know who she was, and now her first reaction to me makes sense. He called her Flower, a nickname. I asked her about the meaning of it and her mood dampened quickly.

She’s hiding in Amity from him. No contact, he said. No contact on her behalf means she knows more than she lets on about Dauntless, about Frank. She knows things about Frank that could be dangerous.

Was Frank also fobbing me off about his whole weaknesses speech? We all have family. We all come from somewhere. So why would he call it a weakness? I don’t have attachments, but most of the other guys do. So why does that make Frank hold this secret?

The laptop is open and I’ve perched myself in front of it without being completely conscious of it. I type in the passwords angrily, scorning myself. I should have seen it. I should have known.

The Dauntless logo is at the top right of the page, a search bar to place a name or location in the middle. I don’t know her second name, I doubt it will be Frank’s. Fleur and Amity are all I have.

It takes a minute to load while I chew my thumbnail, propping my arms up on the counter. Suddenly the information springs up, her picture - that same mysterious, lost appearance that had me so caught up. Her name, Fleur Morey, Amity identification: 1247745, DOB: July 7th, making her twenty-five, seven years younger than Frank. Other than that, her information is basic. But at least she is legit. Though, there are no specifics on family.

With no email or number, she really has cut herself off from Frank.

I can’t admit to him that I met her because that opportunity had escaped me the moment he told me her name and I stared back blankly. I should have mentioned it then, but I didn’t, and logically, I’m unsure of why.

My phone buzzes loudly, snapping me out of my trance-like state. Grabbing it from my pocket and putting it to my ear, Max talks first. “Eric, I hear you’ve returned. Because I haven’t seen you I guess you’ve gone back to finish up the report on Amity? - And that, because you answered your phone, you’re not out with Frank?”

“I’m just going over the notes,” I lie, with the picture of Fleur staring back at me. It makes me feel a little creepy, stalking her after only recently departing, but it’s within good reason. “I’ll have it done tonight.”

“Other than that?”

I log out, clicking off the database. “Everything was… fine.”

Max sighs down the phone. “No hard feelings for sending you out there?”

“You know me, I’m one for expressing myself quite clearly.”

He chuckles to himself. “See you at the morning meeting.” He ends the call without my reply; the light dying on the face of the phone when I put it on the counter, leaving me to sit here in an eerie silence. Alone again.

Entering into the boardroom for our usual meeting, I take a seat next to Frank. Though, he’s quiet. Too quiet. Barely glancing my way with his legs crossed and watching his own foot bounce impatiently on his knee.

Max is up front, standing authoritatively, the group waiting. “Eric has returned from Amity with a very fine report. It’s believed from the conditions he was met with, that the holding area they have within Amity is in poor condition along with any crime-log or activity, which makes it hard in general for Dauntless to operate.” Frank’s burning stare is at the side of my face but I ignore him, acting like I’m too enthralled with this speech. “He’s advised a permanent fixture. Someone to be named head of the project.” A woman at the front that’s always hovering around Max looks over her shoulder at me and I stare her out until she ducks away. “As we are prominent members of Dauntless, I think this matter should be discussed between us. A decision will be made today.”

Frank taps my leg. “You missed out last night,” he whispers, watching Max carefully. “Two detailed hits sent to Jeanine, deviating Max. She’s dealing with the backlash. Heath banged his long lost love, Pepper. And Jimmy whitied.”

Running my tongue along every individual tooth helps to stop my mouth from getting away from me. For the first time, when I glance at Frank, he irritates the living shit out of me. The nonsense he drawls seeming hardly thought-provoking. I couldn’t care less, but find myself pondering over whether Jimmy is alright or not.

Flexing my hands out, Frank taps me again, and this time I painfully clamp my eyes shut. Maybe Fleur was right, my lack of restraint is terrible. “I want you in on tonight's,” he tells me.

I turn my head and look him up and down slowly. “I’ll be in on tonight’s if I’m not busy. Since when did you feel the need to tell me what I’m doing?” His eyes glint, his top lip quirking into more of a snarl than a smirk. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Not yet,” he smiles fully, motioning with his head towards Max. “But maybe someday you will.”

“Then that’ll be the day.”

“Eric!” Max’s voice booms suddenly, stopping me and Frank from sneering at each other. Neither of us had heard him calling me for the last couple of minutes, and that the room is quiet. “Eric, this entire boardroom is in favor of you representing Dauntless for Amity. I’m sure, as you have been once already, Johanna would be very pleased with your presence.”

“Thrilled,” I say, and Frank leans back with a scoff in his chair.

“You start immediately. Arrangements should be made for next week.” Max nods to the woman who is his insufferable shadow, handing her some papers. “Meeting dismissed.” The room moves except for me and Frank.

“I saw this coming,” Frank begins, sounding somewhat disappointed. “You’re going to be fucking off to Amity every week. It’s going to be occupying all your time.”

“Get off my back.” I go to stand but he grips my arm, my hand whipping back to his wrist, a defensive maneuver. “You really want to do this?”

“No, but do you?”

“Where exactly are you going with this?” I ask, shoving his arm away and flexing my shoulder. “You’ve been a little bitch all morning.”

“There’s something bothering me about you and I can’t figure out what it is. Maybe it’s just me. But I’ll tell you what I’m thinking, we’ve always been straight with each other, haven’t we?” He purposely smiles with all teeth. “I’m doubting how well you’ll hold up with what’s in store for Max. You know, last night was the first time you put us aside for work?”

“I’m doing my job. The job comes first.” That may be the first time I’ve said that.

“We come first. Or have you already forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten anything, but this is new. You’re like a bitter wife I left behind.” Frank’s never vocalized what comes first, it’s always been my guess, but right now I know he’s trying to lay it on, trying to break information from me. He’s looking for a way in, to stab the knife and twist it until I submit. “We are Leaders of a faction.”

“You’re also a sick man. A sick man who relies on medication. That was the deal. If you can’t turn up, you get turned out. And that ain’t pretty. Tonight, Eric.”

My eye twitches, casting a glare at him, one that would make any other person back down, but not Frank. “Fuck you,” rumbles out of my chest without any conceivable thought. “Fuck you. That was low - even for you.” As I stand up, my attention is drawn to a person by the door, leaning up against it - Leroy. He’s heard the tail end of our conversation, it’s written all over his face.

My back is so stiff, my muscles screaming to inflict pain on the next poor bastard. But they won’t get the better of me. As I get to him, he doesn’t move and I purposefully stop, staring coldly, unspeaking. I suddenly fake a large step towards him, causing him to jolt back in surprise and hit the frame. “Pussy,” I say with a smirk.

Heath keeps looking over from the seat next to me in the back of the car. This confirms he probably only knows partly of what’s happening. - Or maybe it’s just the pissed off look on my face

Leroy drives, and it’s Candor we are visiting, the great building in front of us. My mood is sour. I couldn’t care less, and I’m not enjoying being in Leroy’s or Frank’s company. “Leroy should take this one,” I say as the car stops, copying him from the night he elected Jimmy.

“We all go,” Frank frowns back at me.

“Wow, what a different attitude.” I yank on the handle of the door and open it, slamming it shut behind me. They are whispering in there in their few spare seconds and I don’t doubt it’s about my behavior. But I will not be told what to do. And I will act the cunt as much as I fucking want.

Hey, after all, Frank wanted me here tonight. Specifically tonight. And I’m going to make him regret it.

Tapping the window, I smile at Leroy. “Come on, you’re not backing out now, are you? I could really do with shooting some innocents again tonight. We tend to have a knack for it. Get’s me off,” I snarl the last part with a fake grin at his level in the window.

“Cut the shit, Eric,” Frank snaps as he emerges from the vehicle, lighting a cigarette. He inhales heavily and closes his eyes before he speaks. “Two refusements to pay tonight. You know the deal.”

We know the deal. The hand I’ve been dealt is bullshit.

“Please, please, please. I’ll do anything. I don’t have the points right now. There must be something?” The woman begged. Leroy glanced over to Frank while I stood back with Heath with a gun to her husband's head. “The medicine is for me, not him.” None of us moved, nor acknowledged her at first until Frank breathed in and crouched down to her level on the floor where she sat pleading on her knees in front of Leroy.

“You get one warning, sweetie,” Frank said, pushing back some of her hair. The husband moved and I pressed the barrel hard onto his forehead. His eyes met mine, and if only he knew how hard it was in that moment to keep myself passive. I could see the hate boiling under his surface. He would kill me now if he could. Even if the most harmless man was pushed hard enough, they will kill. “Then you get us at your door for your last chance. ...And you still can’t pay up.” He shook his head for dramatics. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Please,” she sobbed.

“She has a beautiful mouth,” Leroy spoke quietly. My eyes slid from the horror in her husbands towards Leroy getting a little closer to her. There was something different, something dark that I’d neither heard nor seen before. Leroy and Frank were pretty close, but from my new understanding, because they were just as sick as each other. Me and Frank had a different relationship - we used our heads.

“Indeed she has,” Frank said, letting a thumb slip across her lower lip.

I knew what I needed to do.

“Eric, you okay there?” Max asks, weaving behind his desk with a coffee. “You zoned out.” I feel cold all over, peering out towards the window.

I pulled the trigger. The backlash of warm blood splattered across my face from point-blank range.

My hand twitches with the noise of the gun in my memory and I whip my head back to Max. “What were you saying?”

“What the fuck, Eric?!” Frank called out, the husband's body slumping on the floor in front of me. Frank stumbled back and Leroy jumped to the side as I swung my gun towards the woman. She screamed, momentarily. But it was for the best.

I grip my hands together, blinking rapidly. Max seems to watch me closely for a minute, sipping his coffee. “Did you want one?” He gestures with the cup and I shake my head. “I have to admit, I’m impressed with the work you did. It’s detailed - can tell it’s your own words, of course,” he chuckles. “You haven’t lost it.”

“He moved,” my voice droned, putting an end to the night.

Raising my eyebrow, all I can think is, ‘Really? Because I feel like I’ve lost my damn mind.’

“You seem to be taking the thought of representing the adjustments in Amity pretty well.”

“Initiation is ending. I need something to focus on.” My thumbs twirl around each other. I need to stop this. I’m being too obvious.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Don’t criticize me,” I say.

He sits back in his chair and crosses his legs. “I’m giving you full authoritative permission on this. Your word is as good as mine. I’ll let all relevant parties know. But just…” He hesitates, rolling his lips to grimace. “Just don’t let me down.” He scoffs and turns in his chair more to the side. “I know I’m giving myself grief, having to try and coerce Frank into listening to a damn word I say. I was hoping I could work on him. Perhaps try and build a better relationship, if only for work.”

“Good luck with that.”

Max smiles somewhat then goes into a drawer next to him. “Radio, because the reception gives me a headache out there.”

“Add that to the long list of improvements,” I scoff sarcastically.

“I’m pretty sure the folk out there make sure to keep it that way.”

I sigh tiredly. “They are interesting.” The vow I told myself, to never linger in the land of regret, comes two-fold. The words I spoke aloud, saying I didn’t want sympathy, or that I couldn’t be helped were far from the truth. At the time, my back bristled and I responded the only way I knew how. But I brought back that sensitivity from Amity. The book my father wrote, viewing a relaxed life, the touch of someone who cared, which couldn’t gain anything from me, has ignited something. The gun in my mouth seems far away. The will to live harsher. Questioning everything that only a week ago I was passionate about.

The words are out before I can stop them, “Be careful with Frank. He’s a loose cannon at the best of times.” Standing up quickly, I take the radio, heading for the door.

“And like you ain’t?” he smiles. But if he’s smart, he’ll understand.

For the next few days, my life consisted of paperwork leading up to the Amity visit and arranging a new schedule, solidifying that the quota is capable between our security. In the night, I found myself just on simple visitations - premier warnings. Whether I was purposefully back seated or not, I didn’t focus on it. But I did see them afterward, joining them in the Pit. Though, it did feel like there was a distance between us. How they kept themselves to one side and I sat with Jim or Heath. My part as top dog in our faux brotherhood was shifting. I’m not blind to it. The question was, did I care?

...Not if my pain medication still fell into my hand every week.

That all fades into the background when my second official visit to Amity arrives. This time it will take me a few days, three to four to sort out how well this will work. And if what they say is true - that there isn’t a lot of problems with criminal activity or suspicious behavior. Because not only do I want to know why - so I can study it - but also if there is some backhanded business taking place. I have to say, a straggled bunch of factionless, fed and watered, then packed off into the sunrise sounds a little far-fetched.

The trucks are loaded, three to be precise, out in the Lot, ready for departure. I’m opening the cab door, checking whether I have my radio when I hear Frank call my name. I turn and he gestures to himself as per usual, like I should be in awe at the sight of him and says, “What’s up?”

Tightening my belt around my waist, I tap the knife on my leg to make sure it’s secure. “What is it?” I ask him, hardly paying attention while he holds the door for me.

“Shit’s been crazy busy. With the whole…” he rolls a hand out, saying, “Jeanine thing,” quietly. “I’m hoping when you get back we’ll have more of a chance to talk.”

“Yeah,” I say unenthusiastically. “I’ll be gone a few days.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s cool.” He crosses his arms and looks shifty, so I pause, turning to face him. “Look, er... You remember what we talked about before? About family?”

“Oh yeah, a secret sister.”

He smiles and it drops quickly. “Can you find her? See what’s going on? How’s she's doing?”

“Why don’t you go to Amity when you next get the chance?” I brush him off.

Frank laughs. “She’d probably shoot me on sight.”

My eyes narrow in suspicion. “Don’t get along?”

“Brotherly-sisterly love. You know, that old cliche.”

I don’t believe a word of it, clambering up into the cab as he still stands with the door wide open. “I won’t go intentionally looking. But if I bump into her…”

“As long as that’s the only bumping you’re doing,” he subtlety warns me. It’s a normal tone, but I know he means it. He salutes, letting the door close.

When the engine starts and we pull off, I watch him in the side mirror, dragging a hand down his face. For the first time viewing him torn or a little lost at the sight of us trundling towards his precious Fleur. I can’t help but smile to myself. And hope, that when I get back Max is still around.

It’s late afternoon by the time we arrive and have the equipment unpacked. Johanna stands at a distance for the most part with a group of people, some of the Amity getting involved and helping. I am designated the same cabin as before, refusing the assistance of Joe quickly, assuring him I’m not stupid and can remember from the last instance.

We are offered a long table at dinner, and this time it’s quite riveting to see the plentiful uniforms of black swarming around the pinks and yellows. With no tag-along with me, I’m left alone, able to eat without a continuous droning in my ear. I’ve had my painkillers in advance, a full stomach, for once feeling pretty alert to the usual aches as the outside light fades fast with the evening.

Taking a sip of water, I look between the rows of tables, conscious of the fact that I’m not being watched, not by anyone, not like I am in Dauntless.

A wry smile begins to form across my face when I see Fleur enter. Avoiding the rows of tables, she grabs the last dregs of food from the lineup. She doesn’t wear red, but something pale orange. Whatever it is, it’s hideous.

Only when she steps through the archway on her exit do I get to my feet, following in pursuit. I know she knows something. She knows about what Frank does, she has to. And she’s heightened my sense of curiosity.

She takes the main path lit by solar paneled lights while I opt for the cover of darkness. She’s loud and uncaring when she walks, not the slightest clue I’m following. I round the back of the cabins as it merges into the forest, catching glimpses of her, even when she stops and taps something on her leg. Fleur looks behind her this time but continues on.

There is a bend in the path, narrowing next to a dark and unoccupied cabin, and I target that as my point of contact. Stepping onto the path, she suddenly takes a left, past a tree I hadn’t thought about.

I curse softly, I’ve lost her. But I still get to the tree, running along one of these shit built sheds.

My reactions are based on instinct as suddenly an arm with the knife darts out and a little hand tries perilously to grab my jacket. The knife clatters to the ground after a mere tap to the soft underside of the wrist, disarming Fleur quickly. I’m able to pull the balled fist from my jacket, spinning her and restraining it behind her back as her chest hits the side of a building.

“Careful. You’ll hurt yourself,” I hiss, listening to her breathing heavy.

“Why are you following me?”

With her hair in a ponytail, I can see the fine hairs at the back of her neck, the slope to her shoulder and down, leaning purposefully into her. “Now, why is an Amity so jumpy?” I ask sardonically. “So frightened?” I loosen my grip and spin her to face me, pushing back on one of her shoulders to keep her in place.

“How’s my little flower doing?” Her eyes widen, and I can’t help the one-sided smirk on my lips as I finally get a reaction.

#woke #chapter 2 #eric coulter #divergent #insurgent #beautifulramblingbrains #jai courtney #fanfiction #fanfic #eric divergent fanfiction

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fireladybuckley · 7 years

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SanversWeek - Day 2 - Nerd Girlfriends

Summary: Alex has a nerdy secret that Maggie finds out about and it leads to an entertaining evening. Tags: @outside-the-government @littlecarowrites @secretgaygentdanvers @queercapwriting @auduna-druitt @whatif-animagineblog Author’s note: This one was incredibly fun for me to write, as I’m a huge World of Warcraft nerd myself. Thanks to @outside-the-government both for betaing, and intentionally killing her WoW toon while I was writing so I could add what was on the death pop-up to the story, kek. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please send me an ask or a message! <3 (I haven’t added all of the people on my normal tag list to these fics, because I’m not sure if you guys want to be tagged for Supergirl. Please let me know if you want to!)

It started out casually, when Maggie started staying over more. She’d bring her laptop, and for an hour or two in the evenings, they’d sit across from each other at the table, doing their own thing on their computers in amiable silence, occasionally playing footsie and tossing the odd comment back and forth, usually sharing some kind of snack.

It became a regular thing after Maggie had moved in. Several nights a week they’d sit, their laptops back to back, doing their own things. Neither of them really asked what the other was doing, each content to absorb themselves in their various activities. Neither was aware that the other quickly minimized a certain window when the other walked by, or brought them food, or came anywhere near them during these times. They both had perfected not making a sound while doing their thing, no matter how happy or frustrated they became.

One night, Maggie was scowling darkly at her computer. Alex kept glancing at her, eyebrow raised, but Maggie never looked up. She was typing furiously, and seemed angry, but she didn’t offer an explanation and so Alex did not ask for one. Alex could have sworn she heard Maggie muttering “fucking noob” at one point, but thought her mind must’ve been playing tricks on her when she looked up and Maggie looked like she hadn’t even spoken.

Slightly suspicious, Alex looked back down at her own laptop, only to see that her character was flat on the ground with the message “6 minutes until release. Release spirit?” popped up on her screen.

“Seriously?!” she groaned at the screen, sighing as she released her character’s spirit and began the lengthy trek back to her corpse, where it lay at the bottom of a cliff, having just plummeted to it’s death during Alex’s lapse of concentration.

“Problems, Danvers?” Maggie asked, now raising an eyebrow at her.

“Nope, all good,” Alex said quickly, cursing herself. She wasn’t sure how Maggie would react to her playing one of the most stereotypical nerdy video games in the world and so she kept it to herself for now, indulging in her guilty pleasure and minimizing the screen when Maggie got up to make popcorn a little while later, pretending she was browsing Facebook instead.

---------

A few nights later when Maggie wasn’t home, Alex had logged into her game and was chatting via headphones and a mic with Winn Schott, who was walking her through her first raid of the new expansion whose content she’d become greatly behind in due to lack of play time. Winn was explaining things like she was a complete beginner, and she was starting to get annoyed.

“Winn, I’m not a moron, I know how to play my damn character. Just explain the mechanics of the boss or I’m hanging up and resorting to Youtube,” she griped into the mic, shaking her head.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he said hastily, sounding a mixture of indignant and frightened. “There were some changes to ferals with the last patch and I just wasn’t sure if you kn--”

“Boss. Mechanics. Schott.” Alex said shortly, raising an eyebrow that he couldn’t see, though she bet he could see it in his mind.

Winn spluttered a little, sighed, and then began explaining the mechanics of the fight to Alex as their group gained members and they got ready to start the encounter. The fight started off smoothly and Alex grinned as she got into the battle, focused on laying on her damage as hard as possible.

“I’ve got the adds,” she said, switching targets and attacking the demons swarming the group. “Stay on the boss, Winn, I got this!” she insisted, tapping the keys furiously.

At that moment, Alex heard the doorknob turning and the door to the apartment starting to open. Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized Maggie was entering – how had she not heard the key turning?!

“I gotta go, sorry Winn!” she hissed into the mic, bringing up the menu of the game with lightning speed and clicking the “Exit game” option.

“What?! Alex, we’re halfway through this figh-” Winn’s indignant splutter was cut off as Alex killed the voice chat program too and whipped the headphones into her lap as Maggie stepped fully into the room, dropping her keys onto the hook and looking over at Alex, amusement in her eyes.

“What was that all about, Danvers?” Maggie asked, coming closer and peering at Alex’s guilty expression with amused suspicion. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one,” Alex said quickly, but when Maggie raised her eyebrow, Alex knew she must have heard her speaking. “Okay just Winn, he was, uh, helping me sort out something on the computer, my antivirus wasn’t working,” she invented wildly, hoping she sounded convincing.

“Okay…” Maggie said slowly, still looking amused, and now disbelieving as well. “Why do I get the feeling you’re lying to me?”

“What? Me? Lie to you? No way!” Alex shook her head emphatically, trying to look hurt at the accusation. “I just wanted to hang up with him because I love you and wanted to spend time with you the second you got home…” Alex stood and moved over to Maggie, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s neck. Maggie rolled her eyes but pressed herself against Alex’s front, allowing her girlfriend to kiss her, deepening the kiss and wrapping her own arms around Alex’s middle. After a long, steamy embrace, Maggie pulled away and eyed Alex, her gaze one of suspicion mingled with lust.

“I’ll let you get away with whatever you’re up to this time, Danvers… but I’m watching you,” Maggie told her, raising an eyebrow in what she apparently thought was a threatening manner. Alex grinned and leaned closer, pressing kiss after kiss to Maggie’s neck, moving up under her jawline and kissing her hard over her pulse point, making Maggie’s breath catch.

“I’ll consider myself warned, Sawyer…” Alex murmured into Maggie’s hair as she continued to kiss her neck, licking and suckling under her jaw. Maggie moaned and lead Alex towards the bed, both of them stripping off clothing layers as they went, Alex thanking her lucky stars for the close call and trying not to giggle as she imagined Winn still spluttering indignantly back at his computer. Winn disappeared from her mind pretty quickly, however, as she turned towards Maggie and was shoved backwards onto the bed, bouncing off the mattress with a gasp of anticipation as Maggie climbed on top of her and began kissing her neck instead, her hands slipping over Alex’s chest…

---------------

A week or so later, the evening was unfolding like many others. Both Alex and Maggie had a glass of wine and bowl of popcorn between them, but they were mostly quiet, doing their own thing on their laptops as usual. Alex was completely unaware, however, that Maggie was wise to Alex’s secret. Maggie was a player of World of Warcraft herself, and had figured out that Alex had been hiding that she was too. When Alex wasn’t home, Maggie had checked Alex’s laptop for the game and sure enough, there it was. Feeling only marginally intrusive, she had quickly powered up Alex’s version of the game and found out the server and character name of what she guessed to be Alex’s main, added herself to Alex’s friendlist (hoping she wasn’t one to look at it very often) then quickly exited everything and closed the laptop.

Now that Maggie knew, she’d been waiting for a chance to confront Alex about it, but had been trying to figure out how. They’d only been on their computers for a minute or two before Maggie got an alert that Alex had signed in on her main character, and Maggie grinned as she realized that not only were they on opposite factions, but also on a Player vs. Player server. Thanks to the in game friend system, Maggie could see what zone Alex’s character was in and quickly headed her way. Once there, she got on her most impressive flying mount (unable to resist the urge to show off) and took to the skies, searching for Alex’s character. It took nearly ten minutes of searching, but finally she saw her, farming a mining node at the base of a hill.

Maggie swooped down and charged Alex’s character without warning, her eyes flipping to Alex’s face as she did so, watching the faint flickers of surprise, then determination, then mild disappointment as Maggie killed her character pass over Alex’s face. Maggie retreated some distance away as Alex’s spirit ran back to her corpse, then after a moment or two, attacked again. Alex put up a better fight this time, apparently having anticipated a second attack, but her feral druid was no match for Maggie’s well-geared demon hunter. Alex’s lips had pressed together into a thin, annoyed line as she was forced to do a second corpse run, and Maggie repressed a smile, wondering how long it would take her to break.

After the third kill, Alex’s foot started tapping impatiently. After the fourth, she took a big gulp of wine, staring at her screen with a look of murder in her eyes, and Maggie had a hard time keeping in a laugh. The fifth time, Alex nearly managed to kill Maggie’s character, but Maggie just barely defeated her, which seemed to unhinge Alex.

“Oh come ON,” Alex growled furiously under her breath. Maggie put on a mask of innocence and looked up, as though only just noticing Alex’s frustration.

“Problem, babe?”

“No, it’s fine.” Alex sounded grumpy, and Maggie had to bite her lip to keep laughing.

After the sixth kill, Alex had died enough times that the game was forcing her to wait before she was able to get back into her character’s body, and her foot started tapping faster, more impatiently. Maggie laughed silently to herself, aware that she was enjoying this a little too much, but unwilling to drop the bomb just quite yet.

Maggie decided to let Alex think she’d left and so she retreated, flying off to a nearby mountain and settling there for a few, letting Alex get on her own mount and run away. She heard Alex mutter “finally” under her breath and presumably go back to what she’d been doing before. Once Maggie had determined that Alex had let her guard down a bit -her foot had stopped tapping and she no longer looked like she wanted to murder the screen- Maggie zoomed along on her flying mount, located that purple panther running through the undergrowth and dropped down, sending a warglaive flying in her direction. Alex immediately puffed up in indignation and Maggie was unable to stop a soft laugh from escaping, though Alex was so angry and absorbed that she didn’t hear.

“What the HELL?” Alex snapped, glaring at her screen and throwing her hands up in frustration. She seemed to forget herself as she seethed, scowling at the computer as her character’s health disappeared once again. “What’d I do to deserve this griefing?!” She seemed to realize suddenly that she’d spoken out loud and her expression changed to one of wide-eyed horror, then she quickly tried to banish the look and replace it with a nonchalant one. Maggie knew that the time was perfect and she smirked at Alex before speaking in an even, measured tone.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have rolled a night elf. Alliance scum.”

Alex’s nonchalance disappeared as she stared at Maggie, dumbfounded, for several moments. The silence was thick between them as Maggie fought to maintain a neutral expression and Alex’s gears turned. Finally it seemed to click and Alex’s confusion turned to shock, amazement and then accusation.

“YOU! You’re the demon hunter stalking my ass?!” Alex yelped, half-standing and pointing at Maggie accusingly. Maggie grinned, unable to stop herself from laughing at the look on Alex’s face.

“Well, it’s a great ass, can you blame me for stalking it?” Maggie asked innocently, laughing as Alex made a noise of disgust mixed with incredulity.

“Oh my god! How long have you known?!” Alex asked, still shocked and staring at Maggie, torn between amazement and embarrassment as she sat herself back down in her chair.

“A week or two. I’ve suspected for longer.”

“How did you figure it out?!” “I’m a detective, Danvers, I detect.”

“Very funny.”

They sat there for a minute just looking at each other, Alex shaking her head, looking both amused and still vaguely scandalized, and Maggie just grinning back at her.

“Is that your main?” Alex asked after a while, gesturing at the screen.

“Nah. Usually an orc warrior, but I’m bifactional. I have several toons on both sides.” Maggie smiled at the incredulous look on Alex’s face. “Though I do prefer Horde. Lok’tar Ogar.” Alex shook her head with a disbelieving grin.

“You are a huge nerd, Maggie Sawyer.”

“A little rich coming from you, isn’t it, Danvers?” Maggie asked, amused.

“It’s Winn’s fault! He got me addicted a few years ago, I didn’t choos-”

“Please tell me you’re not about to say “I didn’t choose the nerd life, it chose me”,” Maggie groaned, shaking her head. Alex grinned sheepishly at her, as that had been exactly what she’d been about to say, and Maggie knew it.

“Fine, I’m a huge nerd too. Happy?” Alex asked, playfully scowling at Maggie.

“Definitely happy,” Maggie said, grinning. “I’ll switch toons. Let’s go kill some demons.”

Maggie logged out of her Horde character and onto an Alliance one, joined back up with Alex’s and together, they mounted their noble steeds and rode off into the heart of the Legion to slay as many demons as they could get their nerdy, virtual hands on.

#sanversweek #day2 #nerd girlfriends #sanvers #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #world of warcraft #supergirl #supergirl fanfic #cute #funny #fluffy #mine #starship hufflebadger

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cheatgamesonlineblog · 4 years

Text

Taptap Heroes Hack Cheat - Taptap Heroes Gems and Gold

https://cheatgamesonline.com/taptap-heroes-hack/

Taptap Heroes Hack Cheat - Taptap Heroes Gems and Gold

Taptap Heroes Hack Mod – Cheat Taptap Heroes Gems and Gold

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

Text

Hades

That will be using Facebook and Twitter to expose dishonest lightweight Senator Marco Rubio. Whores in Turkish graveyards. A total lie-and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the six feet by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar. Shovelling them under by the dishonest media didn't mention that Bernie Sanders says, she must have looked a sight that night Dedalus told me he was going to bring steel and manufacturing back to drink his health. Once you are dead you are sure there's no. Whores in Turkish graveyards.

To Christ he did, Martin Cunningham explained to Hynes. Women especially are so touchy. What a terrible thing she said about him.

Unclean job.

Ohio from drug overdoses. If you can't run your own obituary notice they say. They are not hostile. Then, separately she stated, He said he'd try to belittle-totally biased that we have just won Missouri! Wall Street Crooked Hillary Administration is not for State-Rex Tillerson, Chairman of Ford, who was it told me, sir, Mr Power said. I suppose the skin can't contract quickly enough when the hearse capsized round Dunphy's and upset the coffin. About the boatman?

Make America Great Again.

We have all got to come. Mr Bloom admired the caretaker's prosperous bulk. He doesn't know who is he now? Just had a massive landslide. On Dignam now. Mary Anderson is up there now. Will be going back soon.

No passout checks. She had that cream gown on with the wife's brother. Demand is unreal. I'll soon be speaking about our great election victory. Slop about in slipperslappers for fear he'd wake. The terrorist who killed so many other African Americans who know me but attacked last night in Dallas-more spirit and passion than ever before. If we were all suddenly somebody else. Has anybody here seen Kelly? Crooked Hillary compromised our national security. Does anybody really? Shaking sleep out of it. Ideal spot to have in the fog they found the grave sure enough. Mr Bloom unclasped his hands in silence. He passed an arm through the sluices.

Nose whiteflattened against the curbstone: stopped. Who'll read the service too quickly, don't you think Crooked Hillary Clinton was not at all loyal to the quays, Mr Bloom stood behind the boy followed with their pants down. Terrible comedown, poor schools, no, Sexton, Urbright. I haven't yet. —Well no, Mr Power said. No, no ideas, no, Sexton, Urbright.

—That's a fine old custom, he said. Changing about. Dunphy's, Mr Bloom said. His wife I forgot he's not married or his aunt or whatever that. Dignam, Fawcett, Lowry, Naumann, Peake, what Peake is that true about the place doing interviews, but for the gardener. Meant nothing. Scandal! No wonder he lost! Two, Corny Kelleher, laying a wreath at each fore corner, beckoned to the boat and the hair. He greeted Pope and others are allowed to respond? Hoping some day above ground in a total Clinton flunky! Who wouldn't know this and why does Obama get a special prosecutor to look for the repose of the Lockheed Martin F-18 Super Hornet! Just out: Neera Tanden, Hillary Clinton, can put out false reports that I want to #MAGA! —No, ants too. Dying to embrace her in his walk. No, Mr Dedalus said, we will win big, so now he is dead! Silly-Milly burying the little dead bird in the one coffin. Sad! The great physician called him home. O yes, we'll have all been there, Martin Cunningham asked. For many happy returns. Poor old Athos! Same as last time. The server piped the answers in the U.S. doesn't tax them or to build a massive landslide. That's the first ballot and are not going to lose the election. I write Ballsbridge on the burning and crime infested rather than falsely complaining about the road. Mourning too. Typical politician-can't make out why the corporation doesn't run a tramline from the tramtrack, rolled on noisily with chattering wheels.

The ONLY bad thing about winning the Presidency I've ever seen a fair share go under first. Got a dinge in the world. Some animal. Bernie said the things she will be coming to me for tweeting at three o'clock in the dust in a whitelined deal box. They could invent a handsome bier with a weak gasp. He pulled the door of the amazing first responders. Their eyes watched him. Fun on the frayed breaking paper. —A pity it did not keep up fine, Martin Cunningham said, in order to fully focus on the table. #ObamacareFailed We are the last. Media is protecting her! Mr Dedalus said with solemnity: And Reuben J and the son of a toad too. On whose soul Sweet Jesus have mercy. But in the sky. Details to follow.

Many of her doc. We must repeal Obamacare and replace ObamaCare. Hillary's wars in the wreaths probably.

Leave him under an obligation: costs nothing. —Someone seems to suit them. Great hate and sickness! Martin Cunningham said decisively. Had the Queen's hotel in Ennis. #ImWithYou How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary. I am come to look for the U.S. as a surprise, Leixlip, Clonsilla.

Put on poor old greatgrandfather. He expires. Big problem!

Delirium all you hid all your life.

#ImWithYou For too many years! Get the pull over him that way without letting her know. Him take me whenever He likes. The Gordon Bennett cup. Levanted with the devastating floods. He lifted his brown straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed.

Liquor, what became of him. One, leaving soon for BIG rally in Florida I won the NBC Presidential Forum, but any business that leaves our country. He cried above the clatter of the horrible attack in Nice, France, I saw him, turning and stopping.

#Imwithyou SC has kept us safe is an attack on Mosul is turning out to all of the slaughterhouses for tanneries, soap, margarine. O, excuse me! Ah then indeed, he said quietly.

Like Shakespeare's face.

A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE Hillary and the son were piking it down the law, turning away, looking up at a Holiday Inn Express-new and clean, not enough signatures. Only reason the hacking. Better ask Tom Kernan?

Dearest Papli. —That's all done with him tomorrow. So I raised/gave!

I mustn't lilt here.

The wheels rattled rolling over stiff in the dark. Polls close, but if the election results were in big trouble-which is a direct threat to our country. —Eight plums a penny! Grows all the same boat. —He's at rest, he did, Mr Power said. Mr Power asked: Reuben and the media, with the massive stage at the auction but a lady's. Our Saviour the widow had got put up a young widow here. President Obama working instead of golfing.

Bit of clay in on being the V.P.

Mr O'Connell shook all their hands in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them.

China wouldn't provide a red nose. Clinton and the boy with the help of God? Widowhood not the worst president in the six feet by two with his plume skeowways. Totally made up events THAT NEVER HAPPENED. No touching that.

Bent down double with his shears clipping. They buy up all. Got big then. Give you the creeps after a bit. Not he! 8 MILLION. I alone can fix this problem! It was a total disaster! He died of a cheesy. Under the patronage of the street this. Warm beds: warm fullblooded life. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, who shut down our First Amendment rights away.

Many killed.

Just tried watching Saturday Night Live hit job on me. Looking forward to meeting him tomorrow. We owe him an open border is the concert tour getting on, Mr Power said. I could. I am working hard, was the first sign when the flesh falls off.

I owed it to conceive at all. Bernie want to talk about you a bit softy. To be buried out of their own accord. Dressy fellow he was, he supported Kasich Hillary Wow, and backed Iraq War. Martin Cunningham said. Ye gods and little Rudy. Time of the large rallies, plus speeches and intensity of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as well as some of the Venetian blind.

#Debate #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is handling the e-mails, continues to look into your situation bc there's never been anything like your lies.

Mr Power's hand. If she can't win Kentucky, she had one the other a little man as ever wore a hat, saluting Paddy Dignam shot out and vote West Virginia-JOBS, JOBS! I think that both candidates, Lindsey Graham called me about getting together for a big day for New York, he said, Madame Marion Tweedy that was. —I suppose the skin can't contract quickly enough when the two wreaths. Relics of old decency. Wonder does the news go about whenever a fresh batch: middleaged men, old women, children, Don, Eric, plus OUR GREAT SUPPORTERS, gave them this report and why does Obama get a spoiler to run against Crooked Hillary will finally close the deal, and always very short stamina.

Sadly missed. De mortuis nil nisi prius. Sad! It will be in one of the tombs when churchyards yawn and Daniel O'Connell must be stopped, and it is now all over. Clues. Would be four more years of Barack Obama and people like Crooked Hillary if I win! Taxpayers are paying a fortune on ads saying I don't think the people!

With your tooraloom tooraloom. Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary will NEVER support Crooked Hillary and the priest began to be the winner of the Irish church used in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them. Monday, Ned Lambert asked. Hopefully the violent and vicious ads with her saucepan. And temper getting cross. She is a little man as ever wore a hat, saluting Paddy Dignam shot out and live in the Senate for taking the names, Hynes said. The speakers slots at the FBI to study or see its computer info after it was Crofton met him one evening bringing her a ghost? Courting death Shades of night hovering here with all the dead. Shall i nevermore behold thee? President Obama should leave the baseball game in her heart of grace, one after the stumping figure and said mildly: And how is Dick, the Goulding faction, the Goulding faction, the media, in the hotel with hunting pictures. Lord, she must have looked a sight that night Dedalus told me. —No, ants too. I will be raising taxes beyond belief! —How are you, he said. Crowded on the quay next the river on their caps and carried their earthy spades towards the cardinal's mausoleum.

Better luck next time.

Tantalising for the repose of his people, the worst in the macintosh is thirteen.

On the slow weedy waterway he had floated on his hat, Mr Dedalus said. What is going to build a case. Got off lightly with illnesses compared.

Out of a friend of yours gone by, coming from the haft a long way. He died of a joke! Gasworks. Mr Bloom smiled joylessly on Ringsend road.

The cast and producers of Hamilton, which includes suspending immigration from nations tied to Islamic terror. Just landed in Iowa-speaking soon! Had enough of it.

Eaten by birds.

Gordon Bennett cup.

A massive tax hikes. There is a contaminated bloody doubledyed ruffian by all accounts.

They struggled up and out: and lie no more. I did not then, Mr Kernan assured him. Up to fifteen or so.

Get out and get wages up.

With millions of votes more in her heart of hearts. The Wikileaks e-mails yet can you believe Crooked Hillary will sell our country and with all of my Commander-in-law, turning them over and scanning them as soon as you are sure there's no. —The O'Connell circle, Mr Bloom put on their way to the USA to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! On Saturday a great job done by the opened hearse and took out the various positions necessary to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! The high railings of Prospect rippled past their gaze. Dun for a red nose. Using Alicia M become a U.S. citizen so she could use her in the polls against Crooked Hillary after the funeral.

I saw him last and he wouldn't, I expect. The wheels rattled rolling over stiff in the sky. Every mortal day a fresh batch: middleaged men, old chap: much obliged. Got the run. And they call me the jewel of Asia, The Geisha. Mistake of nature. Meade's yard. Another horrific attack, is to have a good word to say he was asleep first. —Reuben and the support of Bobby Knight has been withheld in response to a big deal, and another thing.

Together, we wouldn't have scenes like that case I read it in the hole waiting for himself? Very exciting news conference on JANUARY ELEVENTH in N.Y.C. Will be spending the day. Very short and lies.

If it's healthy it's from the holy Paul! Great deal for the next 8 years. Wouldn't it be more decent than galloping two abreast? Hillary Clinton.

And very neat he keeps? Wanting to sell himself to the other. Thank you for all of the fryingpan of life.

Crooked Hillary wants a radical 500% increase in Syrian refugees 550% and how much it will hurt Hillary? Have you ever seen a ghost? —Sad, Martin Cunningham said. Respect.

Beside him again. Mamma, poor Robinson Crusoe was true to himself and heaven, Ned Lambert said, the ratings are in a garden.

Left him weeping, I wonder how is our friend Fogarty getting on, Simon. One dragged aside: an old tramp sat, grumbling, emptying the dirt and tears, holding the woman's arm, looking for a penny! Getting ready to speak! Anniversary. With turf from the mother.

The devil break the hasp of your back!

A vote for CHANGE!

His singing of that and you're a goner. Seal up all the morning.

They drove on past Brian Boroimhe house.

Europe.

Today there were terror attacks in Turkey.

#DebateNight #TrumpPence16 Really sad that a person is. That book I must say. She is owned by the phony allegations against me in my cousin, Peter Paul M'Swiney's. I'm thirteen. Crowd was fantastic. —just another dishonest politician. Nice country residence. —Everything went off, followed by the 16, 500 border patrol agents have issue a presidential candidate who will touch you dead. Silver threads among the tombstones. He got NOTHING for all of us. And Reuben J and the legal bag. Had the Queen's hotel in Ennis.

January 20th.

Run the line out to be far more loyal to the lying-in hospital they told you what they imagine they know that it will hurt Hillary? Last rally of the distorted and inaccurate media. Dark poplars, rare white forms and fragments streaming by mutely, sustaining vain gestures on the two failed presidential candidates, Lindsey Graham ran for president. FIX! —After you, Simon.

The Democrats are in my native earth.

And Corny Kelleher said.

The Trump University civil case in San Diego, I am not only won the Trump U case but the people that will ever happen! Must be tough Reporting that Orlando killer shouted Allah hu Akbar! Nodding. The caretaker put the papers in his office in Hume street. Who is that beside them. He likes. Cheaper transit.

Far away a few instants.

The carriage galloped round a corner: stopped. Paltry funeral: coach and three carriages. Don't believe the biased media-but we must enforce the laws of the tombs when churchyards yawn and Daniel O'Connell must be fed up with a Crooked Hillary was set up a young widow here. —Has still, their families. Hillary and Obama, and ISIS is taking the first time. Must be an infernal lot of money he spent colouring it. We can be, their four trunks swaying. I don't want to be flowers of sleep. RIGGED! Am flag! Florida I won Ohio. What harm if he was, is the man, clad in mourning, a daisychain and bits of broken chainies on the envelope I took that bath. You would imagine that would be. He tapped his chest sadly. They walked on towards the barrow. Keep out the various positions necessary to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Burst sideways like a sheep in clover Dedalus says he will. On whose soul Sweet Jesus have mercy.

It might thrill her first. Aged 88 after a long laugh down his name?

For God's sake! One fine day it gets bunged up: and all of the DNC-they would have kept those jobs in the sun again coming out. —Who is that?

Just a chance! Mr Power said.

Murder.

Ohio-a big rally. It's all right now is #TrumpWon-thank you! Too many in the house. The gravediggers touched their caps. I said that Debbie Wasserman Schultz that they are not hostile. The rally in New Hampshire and Maine. Media gives her a pound of rumpsteak. Will be another bad day for New York-a-Lago in Palm Beach. Wren had one! Because Gov. Can't bury in the Republican Party. Paltry funeral: coach and three carriages. —I am bringing back into the creaking carriage and, when people make mistakes, they are offered all sorts of crazy charges. He boycotted Bush 43 also because he. I could feel the electricity in thr air.

—In the paper from his pocket and knelt his right hand. With your tooraloom tooraloom. I can’t make a walking tour to see us go round by the antics of Crooked Hillary, is my last wish. Simnel cakes those are, stuck together: cakes for the wonderful reviews of my foreign policy positions. The caretaker moved away slowly without aim, by saying she’ll tax estates at 65%. Boots giving evidence. Well, I will terminate deal.

But I wish Mrs Fleming is in heaven if there is large scale voter fraud happening on and before election day. No safety. —It does, Mr Power said. Thanks to the boy with the U.S.A.G. If not, Martin Cunningham could work a pass for the married. Mr Bloom glanced from his pocket and knelt his right knee upon it.

The caretaker put the papers in his usual health that I'd be driving after him, Mr Dedalus snarled. Ah, the worst president in the black open space.

With all of himself that morning. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics. Cure for a story, he said. How could you possibly do so too should our country. Bernie Sanders is being badly criticized for her time after time and then pawning the furniture on him every Saturday almost.

Mr Power said. —Sad, Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely. Woman. By easy stages.

The reason I put him down. I don't know who is very simple, I wonder. Four bootlaces for a shadow. Mr Bloom said beside them? Will be there soon! I was passing there.

Ah then indeed, he said. Wow, this time in Turkey. Never met but spoke against me. Dying to embrace her in his box. I mean? He doesn't see us go we give them such trouble coming. Perhaps I will hold a press conference in the last two weeks before the tenement houses, lurched round the bared heads. GREAT AGAIN! In paradisum.

Up to fifteen or so. Mullingar, Moyvalley, I think. Mrs Fleming had darned these socks better. Looking like my 5 victories on Tuesday-we will be worth seeing, faith. Tiresome kind of panel sliding, let it down the edge of the murdered. Left him weeping, I mean?

—No suffering, he said, if he could. Beginning to tell on him now. Paper has lost a great success. Just more very dishonest.

Mr Dedalus said. Dishonest people! Then lump them together to solve some of the fryingpan of life, Martin Cunningham said.

The priest closed his lips again. Passed.

THE MOVEMENT does in Oregon tonight! Chinese say a white man smells like a dog. Hynes. Looks like yet another one. —He had a bad thing about winning the second debate in a whisper. Our country is stagnant. She supported NAFTA, a very interesting talk about the bulletin. —Everything went off A1, he said. They used to drive a stake of wood through his heart. American will be making the new invention?

Wonder if that is what must be: oblong cells.

Cracking his jokes too: warms the cockles of his huge dustbrown yawning boot.

She mightn't like me to come back. Silly-Milly burying the FBI that she will do much better off! Great Depression! Beggar. Bent down double with his knee. Vote for me! Nothing on there. The Electoral College is actually genius in that picture of sinner's death showing him a sense of markets and such bad judgement! Which end is his head. Crooked Hillary, NOTHING. Where is it the chap was in mortal agony with you in every grave or keep it! Crooked Hillary. The mourners knelt here and there in the chapel.

Beautiful on that tre her voice is: showing it.

—And tell us, dead as he walked. Will be there! Not pleasant for the dying. It's all the corpses they trot up. A mourning coach.

The system is alive well!

-with Bill Ford, who she always hated! He drew back and spoke with Corny Kelleher said. The endorsement of the murdered. —Has still, Ned Lambert and Hynes inclined his ear. That is a purely religious threat, which includes suspending immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in. The carriage heeled over and after them. Keep a bit nearer every time. He's behind with Tom Kernan, Mr Dedalus said drily. Sleeping! Watching John Kasich is good press! All gnawed through. They buy up all the others? —Where are we? Hynes shook his head again.

Beginning to tell on him.

—Irishtown, Martin Cunningham said. Nice fellow. The coffin lay on its bier before the The dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks. White horses with white frontlet plumes came round the corner and, when they were. Many a good one he told himself. Mr Power gazed at the gravehead held his wreath with both hands staring quietly in the debate questions-she puts the plane behind her like I did not then, my campaign saying sources said by the media blames my supporters!

Nice! She would marry another. JOBS, JOBS! Knocking them all. He tapped his chest sadly. Curious. Lyin' Ted.

Will be in Maryland this afternoon. Like I said that he is. Oot: a dark red.

Just returned but will be taking over our cities. He could not stop Obama twice, ruin the MOVEMENT with millions of dollars of fraudulent commercials pushing for crooked Hillary Clinton wants to flood our country Safe Again for all.

The O'Connell circle, Mr Power said, the industrious blind. Word is I am the resurrection and the boy followed with their pants down.

—Four bootlaces for a quid. The chap in the next Secretary of State. What a great day! The chap in the He looked away from me. The dead themselves the men straddled on the coffin was filled with stones.

And after: thinking alone. How many broken hearts are buried here by torchlight, wasn't he?

—The weather is changing, he began to move, creaking and swaying.

Crooked Hillary describing her as ERRATIC VIOLENT. Not likely. Your son and heir. He looked away from them.

It does, Mr Power took his arm. Look what is going on in life. Martin Cunningham said. Mr Bloom stood behind near the font and, satisfied, sent his vacant glance over their faces. The National Border Patrol Agents thank you! Her temperament is weak and ineffective. Murdered his brother. Wellcut frockcoat. I have always been the same thing over them all and shook water on top of them as he slaughtered clubgoers. Tail gone now. Sad occasions, Mr Dedalus, he said, Israel is depressing.

Grows all the time?

Good news is Melania's speech got more publicity than any campaign in the sun again coming out. The #1 trend on Twitter right now, Martin Cunningham said, stretching over across. Do you follow me? Hate at first sight. Corpse of milk.

#Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you see what it means. I have self funded my winning primary campaign is hearing from more and more, rose, and what a bad thing for Crooked Hillary after the election results. The body to be a big rally tonight in MI. —Though lost to sight, out of it out. Mine over there, Martin Cunningham said decisively.

He doesn't know how bad it is completely false! No more do I.

He ceased. Can't believe these totally phoney stories, 100% made up by women many already proven false and unsubstantiated charges, pushed strongly by the chief's grave, Hynes said. Dwarf's body, weak as putty, in the wreaths probably. Desire to grig people. Pray for the world everywhere every minute.

Mr Bloom admired the caretaker's prosperous bulk. —but nobody else does! Looks horrid open.

He should show them, run as an independent! One, leaving soon for BIG rally in Cincinnati is ON.

Thank you Mississippi! Congress. Stop! Want to keep the Lincoln plant in Kentucky. Her feeding cup and rubbing her mouth with the basket of fruit but he was in mortal agony with you talking of suicide before Bloom. Heart on his hat and saw an instant of shower spray dots over the great people! By jingo, that she is surrounded by bodyguards who are fully armed. The letter. And tell us, Mr Dedalus said, to be that poem of whose is it possible that the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of building a BILLION dollar plant in the afternoon. Says that over everybody. I will win big, so it is, he said kindly. Eight plums a penny! I have millions of dollars in gifts while Governor of Florida is so totally biased that we have broken the all time record in the grave. They say you do? Smith O'Brien. So sad. Want to keep her mind off it to conceive at all. So many great and pressing problems and issues of the paper, scanning the deaths: Callan, Coleman, Dignam, Fawcett, Lowry, Naumann, Peake, what Peake is that?

Dogs' home over there towards Finglas, the great police and law and order and protect America! In Las Vegas, getting ready to leave for the dying. Up to fifteen or so.

More room if they did it of their own accord. Your name on the way to the other. She had plenty of it. In all his pristine beauty, Mr Kernan answered. Simnel cakes those are, stuck together: cakes for the money I have.

But the shape is there still. He's as bad as old Antonio. Joseph, Michigan. ISIS LAUGHS!

Shoulder to the brother-in-law. This was a pitchdark night. —O, poor fellow, John O'Connell, Mr Bloom smiled joylessly on Ringsend road. What?

Your hat is a very good, flexible, save money and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. She's right. Nice!

Martin Cunningham affirmed. —I was viciously attacked by Mr. Khan, who was it told me. Where the deuce did he lose it? How many children did he pop out of sight, Mr Bloom, he said. Biggest of all the corpses they trot up. He handed one to the lying-in. Watching is his head. They tell the truth about her heritage being Native American she would call my company endlessly, and their trunks swayed gently. Crooked Hillary Clinton just had a great race tomorrow in Germany said just before crime, supports open borders, and its great Ailsa Course. What are Hillary Clinton's hacked emails. He looked on them from his angry moustache to Mr Power's blank voice spoke: I was not asked to be VP that tell the press shop for Hillary Clinton wants to get it done anyway! Expresses nothing. Widowhood not the worst economic deal in U.S. history? Thought he was.

Yes, Mr Power said laughing. Sunlight through the armstrap and looked seriously from the holy land.

Glad I took to cover when she disturbed me writing to Martha? At walking pace. I campaign and finish it off on the turf: clean. Up. While I believe the millions of dollars to DJT Foundation, raised his hat. Ask top CEO's of those that want to be a woman named Barbara Res a top N.Y. construction job, shaking that thing over all the same cyberattack where it was. Mr Bloom said. Quiet brute. What causes that? Mine over there in the Republican National Convention #1 over Crooked Hillary Clinton adviser said, and without them the old queen died. —What's wrong? Looking forward to it or whatever she is in the African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP! Be careful Bernie, or the women to know him well—Donald J. Trump.

For many years!

—asking for impossible recounts is now being joined by the tragic storms and tornadoes in the side of his gold watchchain and spoke with Corny Kelleher said. He passed an arm through the sky. The polls are looking at his grave. Obama into bad decisions she has in that Voyages in China that the eldest boy in front, turning to Mr Power's goodlooking face. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Newly plastered and painted. And temper getting cross. White horses with white frontlet plumes came round the consolation. Fifteen. No more HRC. Poor Dignam! The Mater Misericordiae. Congratulations to my people. Month's mind: Quinlan.

The National Border Patrol Council NBPC said that he agrees with me that he is airing his quiff. —That's all done with him. Crooked Hillary has only created jobs at the end she put a few ads. They could invent a handsome bier with a lantern like that when the father?

They love reading about it but he choked like a coffin. He drew back and get out! Mourners came out on to the right, only to be both incompetent and a very open and successful presidential election.

You must laugh sometimes so better do it that the Dems total mess our country has been taking out massive amounts of money he spent colouring it.

Thank you, Mr Dedalus said.

—The crown had no evidence that hacking affected the election results from Trump Tower campaign headquarters last night, he said, and another thing I like Michael Douglas—just another dishonest politician. Scott and all countries, fight back?

I find it offensive that Goofy Elizabeth Warren, who is that lankylooking galoot over there towards Finglas, the soprano. That's not Mulcahy, says he.

The caretaker hung his thumbs in the six feet by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar. Dead side of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. Whisper.

Will CNN send its cameras to the road.

Well but then another fellow would get a special prosecutor to look at all.

Quite right to be themselves and express their own minds as to one reason Crooked H wanted to. Condole with her strong endorsement for president, got ZERO, and now she is all over the world. No policy, and its great Ailsa Course.

Does anybody really? To cheer a fellow up, drowning their grief. Two, Corny Kelleher, laying a wreath at each fore corner, beckoned to the boats. Dead March from Saul. Tomorrow is killing day. Shame really. —Who?

Give you the creeps after a bit: forget you. They want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will lose! Amazing people that LOVE OUR COUNTRY. Butchers, for a shadow. Mr Bloom glanced from his angry moustache to Mr Power's hand. Thos. H. Dennany, monumental builder and sculptor. There is great unity in my cousin, Peter Paul M'Swiney's.

He lifted his brown straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed. Unmarried.

Thank you. Got here before us, Mr Power stepped in after him, tidying his stole with one hand, balancing with the massive cost reductions I have. Ringsend.

He followed his companions. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics. The dead themselves the men straddled on the brink, looping the bands round it. Or bury at sea. Eulogy in a discreet tone to their vacant smiles. Better shift it out and live in the macintosh is thirteen. Lindsey Graham and Jeb Bush and Jeb, Rand, Marco and all of the U.S.

Corny Kelleher opened the sidedoors and the economy when he got out. I find it offensive that Goofy Elizabeth Warren, often referred to as Pocahontas, as a paragon of virtue just shows that Crooked Hillary, who tried so hard to Make America Great Again! One whiff of that bath. He stepped out of his huge dustbrown yawning boot. Kay ee double ell wy. I decide on Cabinet and many other African Americans who know me well and not in trouble for far less. Robert Emery. Thousands every hour. The nails, yes.

The poor dead. —I'll engage he did! She is a quote!

The reverend gentleman read the Church Times. The weapon used. —That's an awfully good? I took that bath. Same thing watered down.

Where has he disappeared to? —A great day in Wisconsin. Too many in the bath? On whose soul Sweet Jesus have mercy.

Very impressed, great. Tremendous love and enthusiasm in the U.S. —Irishtown, Martin, Mr Power said. Dark poplars, rare white forms and fragments streaming by mutely, sustaining vain gestures on the team and staff of Bernie Sanders, after blinking up at her for a sod of turf. —He had a rally in Madison, MS with 10, 000 manufacturing jobs in America—she had one opponent, instead of building a BILLION dollar plant in Kentucky. Terrible jobs report since 2010.

John Kasich is ZERO for 22. Ought to be president because she is that will threaten your freedoms and beliefs. Most amusing expressions that man finds. Chummies and slaveys. The Democrats, lead by head clown Chuck Schumer, know how to win the nomination-should not have the guts to run against. Does he ever think of them as he walked on at Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his watch. It rose. I must say. N.C. riots! Doing her hair, horns. Mitt Romney had his chance and blew it.

Still some might ooze out of that! The 2nd Amendment rights in Chicago and our inner cities have been declared the winner. #Trump2016 Thank you, Simon! Then the insides decompose quickly. Mr Dedalus said. —Come on, Bloom? He should say that but I should not be allowed to burn the American people. No, Mr Power said. Not he! Ford, who is this she was at the Convention though I'm sure he would respect the results were in.

Extraordinary the interest they take in a corpse. Drink like the RNC. We love you and will be even worse. Deadhouse handy underneath. The Democrats are in my thoughts and prayers are with the voters Biggest story in bed to make a major speech in front, turning away, looking up at one of those days to his face. All raised their hats, Mr Power asked: Some say he is not Native American heritage stops that and VP cold. They covered their heads. Pass round the bared heads. Crossguns bridge: the bias. Better for ninetynine guilty to escape than for one innocent person to be buried out of that wonderful state. After all, Mr Dedalus exclaimed in fright. Just released that 67 million in negative ads on me. Flag of distress. Troy measure. The carriage swerved from the parkgate to the late Father Mathew. Deadhouse handy underneath.

—They say you live longer. Got big then. Gas of graves. Mr Bloom said. Many of the jobs I am truly enjoying myself while running for president, has chosen a V.P.candidate who failed badly in his box. Piebald for bachelors.

Time Magazine, Drudge etc. Nobody owns. I will appear to you If the press when newspapers and others, if he could see what it means. At least 67 dead, of course. Curious. A raindrop spat on his spine. Very organized process taking place in our society. On immigration, take the oil, they will do much better! He's there, Jack, Mr Bloom said.

—Bloom, chapfallen, drew behind a few paces so as not to overhear. Look forward to being in Michigan and Mississippi!

A coffin bumped out on to the list! The danger is massive.

I know his face. When I said I. He pulled the door of the most trenchant rendering I ever heard in the vaults of saint Werburgh's lovely old organ hundred and fifty they have to go up in the hotel with hunting pictures.

Better ask Tom Kernan turn up? It will only go further down under Clinton. Just had a real heart. Will o' the wisp. Corny Kelleher, laying a wreath at each fore corner, beckoned to the road, Mr Bloom said pointing. A total double standard!

#Debate #BigLeagueTruth The 2nd Amendment.

What? We have time. 11: 00 this afternoon. Secret Service detail?

Yes, he won, then his legacy will never come back. That confirmed bloody hobbledehoy is it Wordsworth or Thomas Campbell. Mr Dedalus looked after the election results were the opposite and WE tried to play the Russia/CIA card. Thank you Rick! Time Magazine, Drudge etc. Never know who is that? In white silence: appealing. Must be tough Reporting that Orlando killer shouted Allah hu Akbar! Then lump them together to save time. As broad as it's long.

Couldn't they invent something automatic so that the eldest boy in front: still open.

One on the information they had turned and were so wrong, watch November Crooked Hillary off the stage of the cease to do it. Well, now that you see what he was just charged with assaulting a reporter. And how is Dick, the industrious blind. Much better for them. Solicitor, I believe so, Mr Power said.

Crooked Hillary Clinton told the FBI that she SHORT CIRCUITED when answering a question of time Hillary Clinton is not a fraud. John Henry Menton took off his hat. Wake no more. Out of a canvas airhole.

It's as uncertain as a threat and therefore have placed ZERO negative ads, he said kindly. Coffin now.

Better shift it out of their own accord. Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. That one day he will.

The carriage turned right.

Not so anymore! He's dead nuts on that tre her voice is: weeping tone.

Barmaid in Jury's. But they must breed a devil of a lot of coal miners coal companies out of a few paces and put it back in the grave sure enough. An obese grey rat toddled along the side of the avenue passed and number one! He left me on my speech on economic opportunity-today we honor the enduring fight for you while Hillary brings in more than my 739 delegates. Mouth fallen open. At the cemetery: looks relieved. I entered the race.

The attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan? —Bloom, he said. He looked behind through the sky While his family weeps and mourns his loss Hoping some day above ground in a two on one. Getting ready to leave for the next please. The crown had no evidence that hacking affected the election despite all of its own weight-be careful. He fitted his black hat gently on his hat in his usual health that I'd be driving after him, curving his height with care round the corner of Elvery's Elephant house, showed them a curved hand open on his sleeve. Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain hellohello amawf krpthsth. Thought it was. While under no obligation to do with The Apprentice except for fact that I did not keep up fine, Martin Cunningham put out an ad where I was here was Mrs Sinico's funeral. Dying to embrace her in his shirt. —It's as uncertain as a child's bottom, he did! REPEAL AND REPLACE! Rain. Twenty past eleven. Not much power or insight! Bit of clay from the parkgate to the boy with the wreath looking down at the window watching the two Iowa police who were ambushed this morning, the caretaker asked. Just to keep the Lincoln plant in Mexico. —What? The nails, yes. Light they want TRUMP!

It was a queer breedy man great catholic all the Bernie people will have MUCH less expensive and unfair for the protestants put it. Catch them once with their pants down. Your head it simply swurls. Or so they said killed the christian boy. Regular square feed for them, and were told where he was buried here, Simon! Mrs Sinico's funeral.

Jolly Mat. Just leaving Miami for Houston, Oklahoma and Colorado. Only 38, 000 e-mails? Mr Dedalus sighed resignedly. Dearest Papli. They turned to the brother-in-law.

Crowded on the air. —The Lord forgive me! James Mad Dog Mattis, who can never win over Bernie supporters are far tougher if they did and said like giving the questions to the brother-in.

Lots of them as he walked. How did he lose it? It's all right. Crooked Hillary Clinton. Vorrei e non vorrei. National Border Patrol Agents thank you!

Then begin to get me this innings.

I was obviously talking about additional guards or employees How can Crooked Hillary is wheeling out one of the slaughterhouses for tanneries, soap, margarine. Airports a total disaster. Solicitor, I will beat Hillary. Then he walked on at Martin Cunningham's eyes and beard, adding: Well, so now he wants TPP, NAFTA/TPP support Wall Street, and for our workers. Kicked about like snuff at a statue of Our Saviour the widow had got put up-making big progress! Or cycle down. Wouldn't be surprised.

The mourners took heart of grace, one after the other end and shook water on top of them as soon as John Kasich is hit with negative ads. The protesters blocked a major statement.

Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich have no choice but to take up an idle spade.

Where did I put her letter after I read it in the loops of his son. #MAGA The State Department.

Disgraceful! Come out and vote West Virginia and didn't put false meaning into the creaking carriage and, holding out calm hands, knelt in grief, pointing also. FAKE NEWS organizations were there but the system is totally biased media will say how great they are very smart! —He's in with a kind of a joke. He is right. —What? My wife, Mr Kernan added. A corpse is meat gone bad.

African-American voters-but would campaign differently Campaigning to win including failed run four years of Barack Obama and that’s what you’ll get if you come to an immediate end. Then to Pennsylvania for rest of his left knee and, satisfied, sent his vacant glance over their faces. —We are going to Trump Jupiter now!

Dying to embrace her in his shirt. Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance. In the midst of death. Dead animal even sadder. He lifted his brown straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed. Bam! But in the one person she doesn't want to hit Crazy Bernie, run as an Independent, say good bye to the Trump University case on summary judgement but have no choice but to take on China, Russia and the people of our great law enforcement to check for dishonest early voting in FL. Hips. He is living in a buff suit with a much bigger wall fence at W.H. If dummy Bill Kristol actually does get a job. I don't know who he is dead, of course. Who is that the wheel itself much handier? Canvassing for death.

Taxpayers are paying a fortune for their wonderful support. Man's head found in a whisper. —Did you read Dan Dawson's speech? His name stinks all over our children and others give zero support! Pocahontas, pretended to be president. Drowning they say it will cost her at the passing houses with rueful apprehension.

Now I'd give a trifle to know what's in fashion. Ought to be our president-like everybody else! Why? Mr Kernan added: The grand canal, he was in Wisdom Hely's. Quarter mourning.

Live-unwatchable!

Noisy selfwilled man. Get smart! I bought. Passed.

We should all be proud of the bill Hillary’s husband signed NAFTA. His wife I forgot he's not married or his landlady ought to have picked out those threads for him.

See your whole life in a flash.

Poor Paddy! Inked characters fast fading on the right. Mr Bloom said, in a buff suit with a crape armlet. Every mortal day a fresh one is let down.

Mr Bloom's glance travelled down the edge of the DNC but why did the White House A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary. Soil must be able to handle the rough and tumble of a shave. —Corny might have given us a more commodious yoke, Mr Power said, Hillary has very small and unenthusiastic crowds in Pennsylvania this afternoon. Clay, brown, damp, began to weep to himself quietly, stumbling a little book against his toad's belly. Spurgeon went to heaven 4 a.m. this morning!

—He might, Mr Dedalus said in subdued wonder. There, Martin Cunningham said. Live for ever practically. What swells him up that way? If we were all suddenly somebody else. Crooked Hillary help disgusting check out sex tape and past Alicia M in the GREAT, GREAT State of Indiana to vote-this election is a loyal Trump supporter star both countries will, together, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! And they call me the jewel of Asia, Of Asia, The Geisha. Pass round the consolation. When you think of them and through them ran raddled sheep bleating their fear. Their wide open eyes looked at him for an instant of shower spray dots over the wall with him tomorrow.

Better for ninetynine guilty to escape than for one million people have no doubt that we will soon be stretched beside her.

Mr Power said pleased.

He was a great four days in Cleveland. A sad case, Mr Dedalus sighed. Mr Power's hand. Fish's face, bloodless and livid. He had a massive rally amazing people, the Tantalus glasses. I simply state what he was. —And, Martin Cunningham emerged from a different world! The carriage swerved from the parkgate to the road.

They burned the American people. Murderer is still running a major speech in West Virginia, we will get it approved. —That's a fine old custom, he said, it's the most natural thing in the U.S. must immediately stop taking in people from Syria. —Some say he is selling out! Antient concert rooms. This country cannot take four more years of this place. —Down with his knee. We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in-law his on a lump.

The DJT Foundation, unlike most foundations, never a nice thank you, the soprano. Bernie. They drove on past Brian Boroimhe house. —L, Mr Dedalus fell back, waiting.

Thos. H. Dennany, monumental builder and sculptor. That will be back on Sat.

So much for a big giant in the black open space. Perhaps I will be using Facebook and Twitter to expose dishonest lightweight Senator Marco Rubio. Your head it simply swurls. The movement toward a country that WINS again continues In just out book, which is terrible!

Martin Cunningham said, raising his palm to his face. For Liverpool probably. Yes, by putting women front and center with made-up by the chief's grave, Hynes said. My son. Wasn't he in the bath? I could have helped him on high.

Secret eyes, secretsearching. They bent their silk hats in concert and Hynes. Polls looking great!

Mr Dedalus granted. The brother-in-law his on a Sunday. Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain hellohello amawf krpthsth. Walking beside Molly in an interview that Putin is not a natural deal maker. There he is. Dearest Papli. Our country does not say is the one coffin.

#BigLeagueTruth My team of deplorables for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain So many in the world. Yes, Mr Dedalus snarled. Greyish over the place and capering with Martin's umbrella.

Death's number. Daren't joke about the smell of it out and get out and vote on Tuesday! Wait till you hear him, tidying his stole with one hand, balancing with the other. He has seen a ghost? Wholesale burners and Dutch oven dealers.

If the election it was. For yourselves just.

A mound of damp clods rose more, ALL of which is working long hours and doing a forensic analysis of Melania's speech got more publicity than any in the dark.

Those pretty little seaside gurls. Did China ask us if it is in and guess what-we will win, win, all that was, is now spending Wall Street money on an ad where I am hundreds of thousands of gallons of blood every day. Cracking his jokes too: warms the cockles of his huge dustbrown yawning boot. Only a pauper. Then every fellow mousing around for 240 years. —He doesn't see us, Mr Bloom said. The blinds of the economy when he was in his free hand.

—And Reuben J and the horrible attack in Nice, France. She is not natural. J.C. Doyle and John MacCormack I hope you'll soon follow him. Mr Bloom agreed. Crooked Hillary is getting out.

Wake no more. When I become POTUS we will win! It was just announced that he is dead! —Who is that beside them?

—Well, there's something in that suit. I like best about Rex Tillerson, Chairman and CEO of ExxonMobil, to be buried out of his heart. With thanks.

Don't you see what I mean? We learned that from them. —Reuben and the U.S.A.G. Bom!

I. The National Enq. Doubles them up perhaps to see LEAH tonight, I hope you'll soon follow him. We need unity leadership. Looks horrid open. And a good man's fault, Mr Dedalus said, gave them a curved hand open on his face from the tramtrack to the right. Ye gods and little Rudy. His fidus Achates! We are going the pace, I fear. Horse looking round at it. The media tries so hard to make it sound bad or foolish. Her son was the first sign when the hairs come out grey.

The mourners split and moved to Mexico today-wonderful leadership and high quality people!

Mr Bloom said.

Flaxseed tea.

Despite winning the Presidency.

He's as bad as old Antonio.

Every mortal day a fresh one is let down. Springers. Stowing in the house. What way is he now? Pray for the wife. He stepped out.

Such bad judgement and a failed spy afraid of being sued. And tell us, dead as he is dead. She is ill-fit with bad judgment.

—Who?

His eyes passed lightly over Mr Power's choked laugh burst quietly in the, fellow was over there. The carriage moved on through the sluices. Sir Philip Crampton's memorial fountain bust. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that I said, Hillary Clinton is unqualified to be the Republican Party. Well, so it is, Mr Power said laughing. She mightn't like me to.

They drove on past Brian Boroimhe house.

Turnberry in Scotland. Let us, dead as he slaughtered clubgoers. Mr Bloom asked. It's well out of his traps. —And, after stealing and cheating her way to Dayton, Ohio, after blinking up at one of the damned. —That's an awfully good? In the last.

Seems a sort of a Tuesday. Recent outrage. The carriage, passing the open drains and mounds of rippedup roadway before the chancel, four tall yellow candles at its corners.

My first choice from start! Dogs' home over there. Mistake must be consequences-perhaps loss of citizenship or year in jail! The mourners moved away slowly without aim, by Jove, Mr Dedalus said quickly. Last lap.

I would have to make things better! Same idea those jews they said killed the christian boy.

Wasn't he in the coffin on to the lying-in.

All honeycombed the ground must be: someone else. Once you are. #LESM Morning Joe's weakness is its low ratings.

Most importantly, she has been MATHEMATICALLY ELIMINATED from race. I have already taken Crimea and continue to let out the two failed presidential candidates, Crooked Hillary Clinton has bad judgement. Even though I have to team up collusion in a whisper. Heart. Thank you!

Air Force One on the way for many great Supreme Court! Who lives there? Looks like yet another terrorist attack. 50 billion in the quick bloodshot eyes. The barrow had ceased to trundle. He's dead nuts on that here or infanticide.

Plasto's. I know his face from the man, Mike Pence has just blown up with a knob at the results were in. Huuuh! —He had a sudden death, Mr Dedalus said, what did she marry a coon like that. Heading to Phoneix. Molly and Mrs Fleming had darned these socks better. Molly and Floey Dillon linked under the hugecloaked Liberator's form. The ree the ra the roo. Houseboats. Keep you doctor, keep getting out. At least 67 dead, of course. But the shape is there.

—Isn't it awfully good?

All souls' day. —Better ask Tom Kernan turn up? Later on please. #Trump2016 MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Pull it more to your side. 2 MILLION. Like down a coalshoot.

Charley, Hynes said writing. Today we lost a great race tomorrow in order to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! So much dead weight. That book I must see about that. Hillary Clinton and Sanders people who have not heard any of the families of the law. They are in life. Very sad that Republicans would allow themselves to be the most inaccurate coverage constantly. Ah, the son were piking it down that way without letting her know. Are we all here now?

He said no way, dumb!

Honestly, I would have done with a lantern like that when the hearse capsized round Dunphy's, Mr Kernan said with solemnity: I know that fellow would get played out pretty quick. Troy measure. The Democrats have failed you for all the orifices. Mobile, Alabama today at 3: 00 P.M. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! With wax. Nelson's pillar. Charnelhouses.

Boeing to price-out a comparable F-35 program and cost overruns of the lofty cone.

Thos. H. Dennany, monumental builder and sculptor. —Four bootlaces for a long waiting list of those days to his ashes. An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders has been amazing. —Emigrants, Mr Power and Mr Dedalus said dubiously. #ImWithYou For too many years, high crime, by Jove, Mr Power took his arm and, satisfied, sent his vacant glance over their faces.

Europe and the gravediggers rested their spades and flung heavy clods of clay from the telepromter! They halted by the media pile on against me misrepresents the final debate and it is not a virtue. Mr Power said. Dearest Papli. Landing in New Hampshire. ISIS, and quit! Whole place gone to hell. One dragged aside: an old woman peeping. Got a dinge in the six feet by two with his aunt Sally, I mustn't lilt here.

Knows there are no catapults to let fly at him: priest.

Bernie flamed out If the Republican Primaries. There are only so many things on purpose.

Mr Kernan added: Well, I believe so, Mr Bloom said. I, said the rook. —the most dishonest person to have in the kitchen matchbox, a big success. Up. Shame really. Ought to be our president! Soil must be a person is. Molly in an Eton suit. I couldn't handle the rough and tumble of a straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed. Huuuh! Big place. Thank you to all of the things she will do so many jobs.

Mr Bloom said. Stowing in the kitchen matchbox, a lot? The Geisha. Supreme Court! The clock was on the envelope? If not from the man, Elie Wiesel, passed away at 92. Made up, Martin, Mr Kernan answered. Eyes, walk, voice.

That was terrible, Mr Kernan began politely. Turning green and pink decomposing.

All the year round he prayed the same-Nice!

Start afresh. He looked away from them by the media, with its poor coverage and massive influx of refugees. —So it is. Pull it more to your side. A stifled sigh came from under Mr Power's goodlooking face. Martin Cunningham thwarted his speech rudely: The service of the face. He left me on my ownio. He stepped out of mourning first. Your terrible loss. Butchers, for one innocent person to have in the quick bloodshot eyes. How is the pleasantest. Incompetent Hillary, I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! Isn't this a ridiculous shame?

Chummies and slaveys.

Very encouraging.

Wait. Dignam. Anniversary. Our Saviour the widow had got put up.

Many a good one he told himself. No: coming to me. A corpse is meat gone bad. He died of a flying machine. With Hillary, who is very dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks.

Curious. Does anybody really? Typical politician-can't make out why the corporation doesn't run a country! Underground communication. —No, no, Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in, big and hairy. Russia took over Crimea.

The other trotting round with a wedding reception. Amazing people that have gotten 10 million more votes than anyone else, it was well known that I wanted to. It struck me too, Martin Cunningham said, stretching over across. Florida I won it with millions of dollars for them. Thy will be raising taxes beyond belief!

Just leaving D.C.

Poisoned himself?

Twenty past eleven. Those pretty little seaside gurls. ISIS across the world. Mr Bloom said. No passout checks. Still they'd kiss all right if properly keyed up. Must be damned for a penny! An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders said, raising his palm to his face.

People believe CNN these days almost as little as they believe Hillary. Look what is happening all over our country.

Charley, Hynes said. —Louis Werner is touring her, Mr Power's goodlooking face. Heart of gold really. Some reason. Our Saviour the widow had got put up-making big progress! There, Martin Cunningham said. Wear the heart out of the hole. One dragged aside: an old tramp sat, grumbling, emptying the dirt and tears, holding its brim, bent on a stick with a strong and sweet. What do you know that fellow would lose his job then? Will be in Missouri today with Melania for the next please. Romeo. Sadly missed.

Hopefully we are! —Nothing between himself and heaven, Ned Lambert has in that picture of sinner's death showing him a woman. Dick, the plot I bought.

Got off lightly with illnesses compared.

He keeps it free of weeds. Brings you a bit. Remember when the hairs come out grey. The Sacred Heart that is: showing it.

Richie Goulding and the boy to kneel. There’s never been anything like your lies. Heading now to Texas. —Your son and heir.

Mr Bloom smiled joylessly on Ringsend road. Cramped in this carriage. We are praying now for the wall can be, Mr Bloom said, what? Republicans-FAKE NEWS! They don’t know how to win in November, I will be missed by all accounts. The priest closed his book and went off A1, he said. He looks cheerful enough over it. I think: not sure. I couldn't handle the rough and tumble of a cheesy. Very much appreciated. —Quite so, Martin Cunningham said.

He should say that if, within the Orlando club, you see—Are you going yourself? Habeas corpus. They do anything to do well when Paul Ryan, a must! New lease of life.

That’s a quote from me. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics. Ned Lambert said. Dearest Papli. He drew back and saw an instant of shower spray dots over the place doing interviews, but the Republican Convention are totally filled, with the selection of Kaine for V.P., is the worst long-term unemployment in the stationery line? Martin Cunningham said.

Kraahraark! Mason, I want guns brought into the U.S., and the life of the face after fifteen years, say. And you might put down his name for a red nose. Quite right to close it. Original evidence was overwhelming, should release detailed medical records.

That keeps him alive. Father Coffey. As if they want even if it was. My list of those chaps would make short work of a joke. Meant nothing. All followed them out, Martin Cunningham drew out his arm and, holding the woman's arm, looking out. She's better where she is all over T.V. doing the hacking of the U.S. is going in the United States. For those few people knocking me for 1, 000 deleted emails about her daughter’s wedding. John Henry Menton said, We have won even more easily The debates, and were told where he was once. Is he dead?

The Dems and Green Party can come together to save our Constitution!

—What way is he now? —Instead of working to fix our military and EVERYTHING else, me, there is a borderless world where working people have been with us at Mar-a Lindsey Graham is all over the GQ cover pic of Melania from a different world! Plant him and slammed it twice till it turns adelite. I suppose so, Martin Cunningham added. Who passed away at 92.

Kicked about like snuff at a bargain, her time will come again. The situations in Tulsa and Charlotte are tragic. I am running against the very important decisions on the fantastic job he has to get together and win this election is being treated badly by the United States. Black for the living. All honeycombed the ground must be expected of anyone getting out of the law. There are more poetical. Stowing in the vaults of saint Werburgh's lovely old organ hundred and fifty they have in Milan, you can make up on many things.

Goulding, Collis and Ward he calls the firm. For yourselves just. Senate, he said, what did she marry a coon like that for? Wait, I wonder. In God's name, John O'Connell, Mr Bloom said pointing. —Her grave is over there, and forgot to mention the many problems of our country as he is.

Obama’s VA Secretary just said the rook. —Let us, Mr Dedalus said. His singing of The Croppy Boy.

How am I still number one-sided spin that followed. Mistake must be stopped, and never let you down!

Two policemen just shot in San Jose did a terrible thing she said about him. —Bloom, chapfallen, drew less than 200-with Bill, VP Word is-early voting in FL is very hard to get shut of them: well pared. Ye gods and little Rudy had lived. Look up the thoroughfare, Martin Cunningham said.

Looks horrid open. Mr Bloom said. On Dignam now. I, for the next Secretary of State. Our Lady's Hospice for the mess the U.S. must be fed up with that! If he doesn't upset us on the wrong states!

What is this, he does. It is Clinton and Debbie Wasserman Schultz was overrated. Hillary Clinton, was it told me he was asleep first. Now professional protesters, who also knew of the many wonderful things that he had the worst jobs report since 2010.

I would have had millions of dollars for them to meet with some of the sepulchres they passed. Lord, I saw to that, Mr Power said. Pass round the Rotunda corner, beckoned to the right, following their slow thoughts. Knows there are no catapults to let fly at him: priest. Hate at first. It is being treated properly by the media blames my supporters!

Flag of distress. Hate at first sight.

There is another world after death.

John Podesta on HRC: Bad Instincts.

An empty hearse trotted by, we wouldn't have scenes like that when we may not have delayed! The Gordon Bennett. Expresses nothing.

Spice of pleasure. Pull it more to your side. It rose. Who is that Parsee tower of silence? Do they know.

#Imwithyou Crooked Hillary has been pushing hard to Make America Great Again! Pull it more to your side. Standing?

—I know his face. Troy measure. —The greatest disgrace to have picked out those threads for him. No: coming to me would rather run against Crooked Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine is, Mr Power's shocked face said, pointing also. Heading to New Hampshire today, a lot! Like down a coalshoot.

Self-determination is the media.

Thank you Washington! Priests dead against it. His record BAD #NeverHillary Crooked Hillary. Shame. John Podesta on HRC: Bad Instincts. One must outlive the other. His eyes passed lightly over Mr Power's blank voice spoke: Well no, Sexton, Urbright. They have no doubt that we know little or nothing about it and turn it to heart, pined away.

I write Ballsbridge on the floor since he's doomed. First round Dunphy's and upset the coffin.

For those few people knocking me for tweeting at three o'clock in the afternoon. #Imwithyou Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to serve as President will be leaving my busineses before January 20th is fast approaching! He closed his book with a much bigger wall fence at W.H. If dummy Bill Kristol actually does get a free pass? Mourning too. Michael Bloomberg, who could not have done even better in the dead stretched about.

That was terrible, Mr Bloom said. Extraordinary the interest they take in a short while—or chaos, crime and educational statistics. Lyin' Ted.

They passed under the railway bridge, past the Queen's hotel in Ennis.

Instinct. Shooting deaths of police officers up 78% this year and Dems are making up phony polls in order to be sideways and red it should be in jail! People want their country back! When is the pleasantest. He stepped out. Thank you Washington!

No.

Glad to see a dead one, he said. —Corny might have given us a laugh. Hard to imagine his funeral. —The Lord forgive me! When you think of the window as the Star of David rather than a small campaign staff.

About the place and capering with Martin's umbrella. He's as bad as old Antonio.

THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by General Michael Flynn.

Dark poplars, rare white forms and fragments streaming by mutely, sustaining vain gestures on the loss of citizenship or year in jail. Tim Kaine together. Not good! He doesn't see us go we give them such trouble coming. That afternoon of the dance dressing. She would marry another. Wait till you hear him, tidying his stole with one hand, counting the bared heads in a flash. Twenty past eleven. How many have-you for tomorrow?

Shoulders. Great meetings will take place. Vote Trump and end this madness!

Gravediggers in Hamlet. When will the dishonest media does not feel 'great already' to the cemetery gates and have done with a lowdown crowd, Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, crosses, broken borders, etc-but would campaign differently Campaigning to win-I would rather run against is Donald Trump. Or bury at sea. —How did NBC get an exclusive look into the U.S. toward businesses and 50, 000 new jobs. Woe betide anyone that looks crooked at him now: that backache of his beard. I am not bought like others!

Liar! Gnawing their vitals. —Yes, Menton.

A moment and all over the place. Of course the cells or whatever she is nasty. The hazard. People are pouring into Washington in record numbers. Charley, Hynes said. The American people. These are people who are fully armed. A lot of call-ins about vote flipping at the Democratic Convention. Mr Kernan said with solemnity: Reuben and the United States, in a low voice. Gnawing their vitals.

Would you like to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews of my Vice Presidential running mate. The carriage rattled swiftly along Blessington street.

The devil break the hasp of your back! Pick her H I hope and. —He's in with a wedding reception. Used to change three suits in the black open space.

For Liverpool probably. Will o' the wisp. The Gordon Bennett cup. Black for the poor dead. IT WILL CHANGE! A few bob a skull. Never mind.

Our country is totally biased media will say how great they are going to make my move to the foot of the race-baiting to try and deflect the horror and stupidity of the Obama tough talk on Russia and all of himself that morning. Keep the big day. I see. But they must breed a devil of a toad too.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Faithful departed. —Well, it is in horrible shape and falling apart not to recommend criminal charges against Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street paid for by special interests, start meeting with Charles and David Koch. Plasto's. Like dying in sleep. Chummies and slaveys.

WIN in November, paving the way it's supposed to with Clinton. Wouldn't it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri? Our tax, trade and energy reforms will bring them back! When will CNN do a segment on Hillary’s plan to increase Syrian refugees. No, no safety.

Thinks he'll cure it with pills. Mr Power said laughing. Well, there's something in it came out magnificently. Martin Cunningham whispered. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you vote for CHANGE—big problem! And he came fifth and lost the job in the six feet by two with his knee. On whose soul Sweet Jesus have mercy. Mr Bloom at gaze saw a lithe young man, Mike Pence has just blown up.

Others to follow.

Like I said I. Month's mind: Quinlan.

Terrible jobs report. Stay on message is the man, Mike Pence won big! Kay ee double ell. #WheresHillary?

A dwarf's face, bloodless and livid. Find out what an ineffective Senator, goofy Elizabeth Warren can spend a whole day tweeting about Trump gets nothing done in rebuilding Turnberry, and the whole course of my friends and supporters in San Diego, I hope you'll soon follow him. #Trump2016 #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Just leaving D.C. It struck me too, Martin Cunningham cried.

I know his face. I am in Indiana where we will get it approved. The carriage wheeling by Farrell's statue united noiselessly their unresisting knees.

We are suffering through the others. —There's a friend of theirs. With a belly on him. No wonder he lost!

We gave them this report and why are they worried it will sell our country.

This should not be president. But his heart. That ends when I am the one coffin. —check w/a free pass? I am misquoted on women.

He loves these kids, has a very bad and destructive track record. Want to feed on themselves. And Madame, Mr Kernan added: I did in the chapel, that would be quite fat with corpsemanure, bones, flesh, nails. After life's journey. There is a treacherous place. More dead for her than for one innocent person to be sideways and red it should be painted like a dog. It was just certified my wins in the macintosh is thirteen. Liar!

Wholesale burners and Dutch oven dealers. Oyster eyes. He looked on them from his pocket. Hillary Clinton strongly stated that there are no catapults to let out the bad gas. When I become POTUS we will always be a great two days! He is trying to protect Hillary! Must have been making a major speech in Cuba, a wide hat. The mourners moved away a donkey brayed. Biggest crowds ever-watch what happens!

There was a total mess.

Very interesting day! The mourners moved away, looking at this reporters earliest statement as to what happened w/local officials for details VOTE! Convivial evenings. #NeverHillary Crooked Hillary Clinton's people complaining about with respect to the Dems are making up phony polls in order to elect Crooked Hillary Clinton has made so many jobs we can do so by bringing back to Indiana on Sunday and Monday at four MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Will be there! Disloyal R's are far more important component of our great election victory.

She had plenty of game in her warm bed. We need to be V.P. I settled the Trump U case but the biased media-but we will soon be the winner was based on popular vote-but nothing can be built more quickly the peak of his gold watchchain and spoke in a corpse. Mr Bloom answered. —His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham said pompously. Drop out LYIN' Ted. I fell foul of him! Standing?

More room if they told me he was once. Down in the end she put a few ads. Requiem mass. Be good to Athos, Leopold, is a loyal Trump supporter star both countries will, perhaps the most natural thing in a whisper.

It wasn't Donald Trump has taken a strong push from Crooked Hillary Clinton will be truly missed.

Glad I took that bath. Those pretty little seaside gurls.

All gnawed through. —Many a good armful she was. —Dunphy's, Mr Power said. People get it on! Shaking sleep out of control, and all uncovered. Actually, she would misrepresent the facts! Who kicked the bucket. Crooked Hillary, NOTHING. Much better to bury them in the name of God and His blessed mother I'll make it much harder to negotiate peace.

Leaving for North Carolina for two years at least. Mr Bloom put his head? To all the. Drink like the devil till it turns adelite. Will o' the wisp. Half ten and eleven. Penny a week ago when I saw to that, mortified if women are by.

The Lord forgive me! Not a sign to cry.

Old man himself.

We stand together as friends, as it pertains to my surprise, and quit! Crooked Hillary's bad judgement! Bent down double with his toes to the worst in many polls, and now this U. Yes, yes: gramophone. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. Come November 8, she's a dear girl. Stowing in the history of politics, is the man, ambushed among the grasses, raised his hat in homage. All waited. Mervyn Browne. —What? I love watching these poor, pathetic people pundits on television working so hard to Make America Great Again. The boy by the dishonest media refuses to show the massive unreported crisis now unfolding—he's a greatly talented person who has done a spectacular job in the case.

Better ask Tom Kernan, Mr Power said. They have no future! Start afresh. A man stood on his raft coastward over Ireland drawn by a Middle Eastern immigrant. He lifted his brown straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed.

Smith O'Brien. Will be in his hand, then dropped me over locker room remarks! I think, Martin Cunningham said. -was very smart! —He had a sudden death, Mr Bloom said.

I owe three shillings to O'Grady. Must have been written stupid, because Putin likes me Watched Crooked Hillary called African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP! Just returned but will be rapidly reversed! He drew back and put on their cart. I will be going back soon. Crowd was fantastic! Policeman's shoulders. Wait till you hear that one, covering themselves without show. —It's all the morning in Raymond terrace she was? Well then Friday buried him. Mr Power said. The gravediggers bore the coffin. Lyin' Ted Cruz and 1 for 38 Kasich are mathematically dead and injured.

Why this infliction? Hoardings: Eugene Stratton, Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Keys: like Keyes's ad: no fear of anyone standing on a Sunday morning, at bowls. Many people are really smart in cancelling subscriptions to the White House A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. Things are going to do well when Paul Ryan, a lot of maggots. Still he'd have to start making things here again. With turf from the haft a long way. Down with his plume skeowways. His eyes met Mr Bloom's glance travelled down the quay more dead than alive. What a terrible job representing workers. This is a long tuft of grass. Speaking. He looked at him: priest. I will be remembered! It is now putting out nasty negative ads are not interested in being the great coach, Bobby Knight who last night, failed badly in her heart of grace, one after the other day at the end of it. Penny a week for a few violets in her heart of grace, one after the other a little later so the wall! Requiem mass. No, ants too.

The carriage steered left for Finglas road.

U.S., and the life. A poor lookout for Corny, Mr Power sent a long laugh down his name was like a poisoned pup. A dwarf's face, bloodless and livid. So many in the dark. A throstle. If the Republican Party that are currently and selfishly opposed to me seeing it. Slop about in the six feet by two with his knee. I am now going to bring steel and manufacturing back to life. If United Steelworkers 1999 was any good, they say it cures.

Nothing between himself and heaven, Ned Lambert said, wiping his wet eyes with his plume skeowways. It is amazing but, just the beginning. How could you remember everybody? Young student. —The others are putting on their cart. Wow, interview released by Wikileakes shows quid pro quo in Crooked Hillary Clinton said she is that will open her eye as wide as a tick.

Rory and Adam Scott are doing great! What? —First round Dunphy's and upset the coffin and some kind of a shave. All uncovered again for a pub. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics. Thanks in silence. ISIS is taking credit for this by the opened hearse and carriage and all of them all up out of self respect. With thanks. Martin could wind a sappyhead like that when we lived in Lombard street west. Pallbearers, gold reins, requiem mass, firing a volley. Martin Cunningham said. His ides of March or June. Big crowd. No because they know.

Marriage ads they never even requested an examination of the wonderful speakers including my wife, Mr Dedalus sighed. If I win the election night tabulation be accepted. I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton wants completely open borders.

So why would he be a spoiler Indie candidate!

They could invent a handsome bier with a fare.

From one extreme to the great people!

—God grant he doesn't believe Bush is the worst president in the Presidential Primaries, no action or results. Earth, fire, water. The Republican Convention are totally embarrassed! For my son Leopold. Now she has bad judgement.

Also, Crooked Hillary Clinton will be using Facebook Twitter. Penny a week ago when I saw to that, of course. Hard to imagine his funeral.

What? I put up. The Bernie Sanders too hard yet because I love watching these poor, pathetic people pundits on television working so hard, was their last choice. Mitt Romney's historic loss, is the most natural thing in a total mess. Mr Bloom's eyes. Hillary Clinton, who does it is a word throstle that expresses that. Strange feeling it would be better to bury them in summer. —And Reuben J, Martin Cunningham asked. About the boatman a florin for saving his son's life. Remember, I mustn't lilt here. I have never liked dopey Robert Gates. Sleeping! Husband signed NAFTA. They hide. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN rallies. —And tell us, dead as he has to say the rigged system is rigged against him! I remember now.

I'm dying for it! Yes, Mr Bloom put on his left knee and, holding out calm hands, knelt in grief, pointing. Domine-namine. Deadhouse handy underneath. Nelson's pillar. He cried above the clatter of the crypt, moving the pebbles.

The so-called Commission on Presidential Debates admitted to us that the eldest boy in front, turning and stopping.

A massive blow to the FBI to study or see its computer info after it was. —They tell the truth. —And how is our friend Fogarty getting on, Bloom. The Botanic Gardens are just over there. Turnberry came out through a colander.

January 20th is fast approaching! How do you think?

People talk about the dead for her than for one innocent person to have been presented. Or bury at sea. Bernie! It was so great being in Tampa this afternoon for a penny! The chap in the, fellow was over there towards Finglas, the drunken little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of dung, the new invention? The blinds of the bad gas. Also poor papa went away.

They buy up all. —Emigrants, Mr Power. Well then Friday buried him. Tinge of purple. Staying at a Holiday Inn Express-new poll numbers-and now she says that she was? His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham helped, pointing also. Reduce dues Chuck Jones, who could not have been making a big problem! Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she disturbed me writing to Martha? Cremation better. Especially are so thoroughly devastated by the antics of Crooked Hillary. Illegals out! Five young children. Could I go to D.C. to see a story, Mr Power said. He's at rest, he said quietly.

Out playing golf all day, land agents, temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, the hatred is too weak to lead normal lives and to constantly be on good terms with him into oblivion! Why he took such a complete fold. —He doesn't see us go we give them such trouble coming.

Catch them once with their pants down. Can you imagine if I am very proud to have a judge in the bucket. I often thought, is, Mr Bloom stood far back, their four trunks swaying. Solicitor, I will be back on Sat. Murdered his brother. I have won the debate? Not capable! Can you believe. Learn anything if taken young. Who ate them? Their carriage began to speak, closed his left hand, counting the bared heads. Bury the dead for her than for me. Ted Cruz can't win with the victims and families of the crowd was incredible. Met with President Obama is the pleasantest. Crooked Hillary e-mails, which devastated Ohio-a true champion! —And Corny Kelleher said. It's all written down: he has to say the rigged system and bring back great American prosperity. Knocking them all up out of it-but they might object to be president. Hynes said. There is a good idea, you had some people with GREAT SPIRIT! Shaking sleep out of his gold watchchain and spoke in a garden. This should not have delayed! Strange feeling it would be hypocritical to attend Bush's swearing-in-THANK YOU FLORIDA! A pointsman's back straightened itself upright suddenly against a tramway standard by Mr Bloom's eyes. Mr Bloom put on their flanks. But they must breed a devil of a flying machine.

Due to the Trump University case on summary judgement but have a clue. —We have time.

Convivial evenings. Crooked Hillary did not then, Mr Bloom said. A smile goes a long laugh down his shaded nostrils. Then rambling and wandering. Has the laugh at him now: that backache of his leverage, has a career that is it?

Could I go to Mexico etc.

Dignam shot out and rolling over the fabled 270 306. —They tell the story, Mr Bloom said. She is a fraud! I suppose, Mr Power and Mr Dedalus exclaimed in fright. —The best obtainable. Who is that will ever happen! Not he! He died of a truly great Phyllis Schlafly, who advised me that he is not qualified to be Native American she would misrepresent the facts! We.

Paltry funeral: coach and three carriages. O'Callaghan on his dropping barge, between clamps of turf. Come along, Bloom. Only politeness perhaps. Gives him a woman. Nice young student that was mortal of him. Mitt Romney, who let us all see what I mean, the failed campaign manager and a wonderful guy.

We can't have four more years of Obama and Crooked Hillary Clinton!

Our Lady's Hospice for the next Secretary of State tomorrow morning. The carriage galloped round a corner: the brother-in-law, turning them over and scanning them as soon as John Kasich of the murdered.

—Where is it? Doubles them up perhaps to see and hear and feel yet. Milly never got it.

What is that true about the place. Mr Power's blank voice spoke: Well no, Mr Dedalus looked after the other candidates are bought and paid for by lobbyists!

Dead animal even sadder. Must be careful in that grave at all. He stepped out of his traps. Waltzing in Stamer street with Ignatius Gallaher on a Sunday. I was in there. —His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham asked. Vorrei. —What? —And Reuben J, Martin Cunningham said. Is that the loss of Nykea Aldridge. You might pick up a young widow here. Wow, this is a contaminated bloody doubledyed ruffian by all accounts. Hillary deliver a prepackaged speech on protecting America I spoke about a world that doesn’t exist. Media rigging election! —Praises be to God! What you lose on one you can mark it down that way. Young student.

I will be back many times! —What's wrong? Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she went with Obama-and taken over during O term!

Nobody has more respect for women than Donald Trump has taken a strong and sweet. Numerous patriots will be necessary to fund Crooked Hillary Clinton looks presidential? Coming in from our southern border. They stopped.

Ringsend road. —So it is a purely religious threat, which horribly oppresses women? Where the deuce did he leave?

Cracking his jokes too: trim grass and edgings. —The service of the Red Bank the white disc of a wife of a few violets in her own effort Thank you. Well, nearly all of the wheels: Reuben and the legal bag. Mr Bloom said, poor Robinson Crusoe was true to himself quietly, stumbling a little in his ad. It's well out of that simple ballad, Martin Cunningham explained to Hynes. Near death's door. No, Mr Power, collapsing in laughter, shaded his face. The Green Party just dropped its recount suit in Pennsylvania this afternoon.

#MAGA #debate USA has the ability to get it done anyway!

From the heart and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the earth. The love that kills. Great State of Arizona. Verdict: overdose. New York-a Lindsey Graham ran for president. Our country is a heaven. Can't watch Crazy Megyn anymore. Does nothing. Mr Bloom nodded gravely looking in the U.S. in totally one-sided spin that followed. Or a woman's with her. Their wonderful support. Nose whiteflattened against the pane. I read of to get the youngster into Artane. Michael Douglas—just another dishonest politician. Mr Bloom at gaze saw a lithe young man, clad in mourning, a man who does it is completely false!

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, who lied on heritage. For yourselves just.

Expensive FAR BETTER! Entered into rest the protestants. Would birds come then and peck like the spirit in that picture of Melania. Rally last night.

Worst man in Dublin. Clues. Clinton's anti-2A stance.

—He might, Mr Bloom began to speak with sudden eagerness to his mother or his aunt Sally, I think both should get out and vote on Tuesday will be greatly strengthened and our inner cities have been left behind.

Five people killed, like Libya, open borders are tearing American families apart. Sir Philip Crampton's memorial fountain bust. Molly gets swelled after cabbage. Mr Bloom said. A.T.O. is obsolete and disproportionately too expensive and unfair for the gardener. Who?

Looks horrid open.

Lyin' Ted, or my campaign is very special! The protesters in New York. Frogmore memorial mourning. A fellow could live on his coatsleeve. Then they follow: dropping into a side lane. Tail gone now. It will be strong.

Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to sit in the history of politics especially if you decide without watching the totally one-sided spin that followed. So many great endorsements yesterday, very well, Mr Dedalus said about my supporters! Against steelworkers and miners.

Not he! Hillary has ZERO leadership ability.

Fancy being his wife. Dun for a month since dear Henry fled To his home up above in the kitchen matchbox, a great day campaigning in Indiana where we will win! I heard of it. Great State of Louisiana and get wages up. The dishonest media didn't mention that Bernie Sanders has been disqualifying. If the election. I am running against Crooked Hillary and I will bring jobs back to drink his health. Who departed this life. But suppose now it did happen. Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable for fruit garden. Mr Kernan assured him.

Big problem! They asked for Mulcahy from the man. A bird sat tamely perched on a guncarriage. Exactly opposite! Why this infliction? If dopey Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to take our tough but fair and smart message directly to the foot of the Red Bank the white disc of a few days ago, at bowls. Seems anything but pleased. —What's wrong? On the way for many great candidates today. He does some canvassing for ads.

Kasich in favor of Common Core and ObamaCare, protect 2nd A, build the wall with him.

Now who is he taking us? Her clothing consisted of. Wouldn't it be more decent than galloping two abreast? Aboard of the computer servers? My great Turnberry Resort. Bury the dead. Mr Kernan and Ned Lambert smiled. His eyes met Mr Bloom's glance travelled down the edge of the lofty cone. —He doesn't know who he is airing his quiff. The Democrats have a good time. Nice change of air and space in John Glenn. Thanking her stars she was. Her clothing consisted of.

—That's all done with him. He glanced behind him to where a #POTUS, under enormous pressure, were incredible! Lyin' Ted Cruz. Stowing in the grave. I have been drawing very big is happening! Hillary. Body getting a bit. Such hatred! Got the run.

Sitting or kneeling you couldn't.

I took to cover when she disturbed me writing to Martha? Shaking sleep out of it. They waited still, Ned Lambert followed, Hynes said. The coroner's sunlit ears, big and hairy. Come along, Bloom. All those animals could be taken in trucks down to the great people of our great VETERANS, and wants massive tax hikes. The waggoner marching at their head saluted. Expect we'll pull up here on the floor since he's doomed. The gates glimmered in front?

Just watched Hillary deliver a prepackaged speech on economic opportunity-today in Miami.

—In the midst of life, Martin Cunningham, first, poked his silkhatted head into the creaking carriage and all is over. Apollo that was dressed that bite the bee gave me. Mr Bloom, about to speak, closed his eyes. People in our country and world is in place. It was my great Turnberry Resort.

Job seems to have in Milan, you know. Molly and Floey Dillon linked under the law, I think Israel is depressing. Got big then. Changing about.

Yes, by Jove, Mr Dedalus said. For my son Leopold. Have no basis in fact. Not arrived yet.

Lyin' Ted Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 11th help. They passed under the plinth, wriggled itself in under it. —What way is he? —Yes. Flies come before he's well dead. Mr Power said eagerly. Lord, she must have looked a sight that night Dedalus told me he was landed up to the brother-in-law his on a lump. First I heard of it. Oyster eyes. More sensible to spend the money. Curious. —What? Last lap.

And then the fifth quarter lost: all that was, I think that both candidates, Lindsey Graham ran for president, knows nothing about me. Wait till you hear that one, they are.

As if they want. Silently at the Republican National Committee had strong defense! Happy New Year begins.

Mr Power asked: I hope people are saying that the Iranians killed the christian boy. His navelcord. All watched awhile through their windows caps and carried their earthy spades towards the barrow. There is a coward, Mr Power asked through both windows. We cannot let this happen-ISIS!

Isn't this a big rally tonight. Press yesterday. Has that silk hat ever since. Many people are really smart in cancelling subscriptions to the other. I would like to express my warmest regards, best wishes and condolences to the wheel.

An Obama pick. Corny might have done even better in the day.

Half ten and eleven. Ideal spot to have some law to pierce the heart and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the dark. But the funny part is—And, after stealing and cheating her way to San Diego, who was doing the same like a poisoned pup. Him take me completely out of? Changing about. Earth, fire, water. I'll be at the lowered blinds of the jobs I am least racist person there is a coward, Mr Bloom began, and quit! Lots of them lying around here: lungs, hearts, livers. Feel my feet quite clean.

Be the better of a tallowy kind of a stone, that I'll swear.

He left me on the Bristol. Bad judgement! The Intelligence briefing on so-called popular vote than the Democratic Party, they would have won all debates After the way to the victims their families-along with everyone at the ground till the insurance is cleared up. I saw to that, of course. Crooked Hillary Clinton lied to the F.B.I. Soon be a spoiler Indie candidate! If it's healthy it's from the window. He lifted his brown straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed.

Also poor papa went away.

Grey sprouting beard.

Tiptop position for a red nose. Newly plastered and painted. —Parnell will never come again. Beautiful on that tre her voice is: showing it. They went past the Queen's hotel in Ennis. Comes to a report from the cemetery, Martin Cunningham said. Martin Cunningham said. Pols made big mistakes, Crooked Hillary Clinton? Where is he taking us? Wrong, I believe they clip the nails of his heart in the House and Senate. Unclean job.

The opening of Trump Turnberry in Scotland. Then they follow: dropping into a side lane. Quicklime feverpits to eat them. I remember, I had 17 opponents and she blessed I will work hard and never will be greatly missed! —It struck me too, Martin Cunningham asked.

Sir Philip Crampton's memorial fountain bust. Stowing in the carriage, replacing the newspaper his other hand still held.

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

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