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fanfiction-inc · 3 years

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“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

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Verse: Falcon And The Winter Soldier / Captain America And The Winter Soldier / Captain America: Civil War/ Marvel Alternate Universe

Characters/Pairings: Baron Zemo/ Reader, Baron Zemo/ Female Reader, John Walker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8971

Warnings/Tags: Drinking, smut, m/f, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, Google translated translations, Walker is an asshole and just keeps getting worse.

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo, world renowned racer and your sworn enemy on the track. You two have been going at it for years now, but now you two must join forces to fight back against John Walker, a new up and coming racer who is proving to beat both of you. Will you two survive the other or meet your demise on the track?

Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32606833/chapters/81176392?view_adult=true

This is a mess. An absolute, blazing mess that sits before you in the middle of your workshop. The chassis was dented all to Hell, a new one having to be rebuilt and delivered to fix your custom car. The engine had parts missing that were left at the crash sight when it was towed away. One car to your name, and it was fucked up. Maybe you should have taken Stark’s sponsorship and invested in a backup. Sitting on the cement floor of the workshop, screwdriver in hand as you pry out bits and pieces of parts from the engine, taking note of the parts and working on the budget you had set out for this year's series of races, you dreaded the moment you’d see the total cost. This repair would take a nice chunk, but you still had money left over after to make sure your car was at its best. That was the thing about working with your car, it was just you and this beast of metal and speed, working as one to reach the end of the line. The screwdriver is set down at your side when you struggled too long on getting the broken interconnecting rod that links the turbine from the compressor, a sigh following as you sit back. A slow sense of dread fills you as you look at the broken parts scattering the ground, the missing parts on your list, and the purple paint that still streaks the busted carbon fiber chassis.

Working with Zemo was a dangerous game, which you recognized even before you shook on the arrangement he had proposed. He was wicked on the course, predictable at times but at others a ticking time bomb of what his next move may be. He was dangerous, but that is what made him damn good. He took far more risk than you usually would when it came to advancement in the race. Where you held back, he pushed forward. No wonder the man infuriated you. But this plan was the only thing you had to get things back to normal, back to the way they were where you hated Zemo with a passion and fought tooth and nail to stay better than him. You would never admit it, but without your rival, what fun was the race? See, it's not only the thrill of the chase between the driver and death, inching closer and closer with each hairpin turn and the risk of the other driver's moves. No, it’s also the thrill of having someone who wants to win just as bad as you, who is just as good and will do anything to try and progress further than you. It sets a standard, something to surpass, something to stay on level ground with when you catch yourself falling. Zemo was your equal, no matter how much you hated him. And equals like you two don’t have room for a third party to jump in and surpass. The game isn’t any fun when someone fucks with the rules. He had a point when it came to beating Walker down, especially since the man was already fighting you both with molotov cocktails and rocket fire in the form of playing dirty on the track. He was bringing a war to a battle just to see if he could come out on top. Despite everything telling you to stay away from Zemo and not get involved in this scheme, that it could end badly for one or both of you, you couldn’t stand the idea of having Walker walk all over you like some doormat. You couldn’t let him walk in as if he owned the place and could rule as he pleased.

He needed a reality check.

Your form pops and cracks as you stand, stiff from sitting on the solid ground and stretching to relieve your body of the tension. Everything felt so wrong, and you knew you had to make it right...But was this the right way to do it? “Jesus, you sound like that rice cereal with the little elves. You know, snap, crackle, and pop?” You laugh lightly when your friend comes into the workshop, food in hand and dressed down from the usual luxury attire he wore when visiting. No suit and tie in sight, just the oil stained wife beater you had seen him in when pursuing your education in the states as he worked tirelessly on his little toys as you liked to call them. He sets the bag down, the scent of the food causing your stomach to growl and pinch with a hint of pain. Have you really forgotten to eat today? You hadn’t noticed. “Got your favorite. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that speaks English? I had to have Friday translate for me.”

“Maybe you should take a new hobby and learn the French language.” You retorted with a grin, the man shaking his head as he sets everything out. “Maybe I want you as my teacher, but you’re always busy with driving around in your fast little car and getting famous for fighting a Sokovian asshole.”

“And you’re too busy tinkering away with your toys in your little workshop in New York. Truly Tony, don’t tell me you actually want me as your teacher when your toys can teach you for me.” You pause as he rolled his eyes, watching the man for a brief moment as he turned to unwrap his burger. “Speaking of said Sokovian connard, he came to the bar I was at last night.” The man paused mid bite on the thick patty before speaking with his mouth full. “Okay, spill, what did he want?”

“Well originally I thought he was going to cuss me and try to blame me for the failure to complete the race yesterday, but he showed me something. You know the young man who won the race yesterday, corriger? John Walker?”

“Yeah, I know the guy. Races for the American McLaren team and came straight from F3 to F1. What’d he do?”

He raises a brow when you sigh, taking a seat beside him on the desk he had set the food down on and stealing the dish he had brought you. “Zemo showed me proof that Walker hit his car and sent him flying into mine. And I believe he did it on purpose.” You explain, taking a bite of the food your companion got for you. You pause for a moment to chew before returning to your theory. “On my way to the car bay, he smirked at me, and it wasn’t a “I won” smirk- well, it kinda was, but it was rather a “I did this to you” kind of smirk. Not necessarily an evil one but one that showed he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it. Pride in an unfair act.”

“And no flags were thrown up?”

“Non, not a one. As our friend the Baron said,” you cringe at the term friend, “the ones watching the race possibly couldn’t tell if he had done such on purpose or by accident. I believe him about such. And I suppose that brings me to what I’m about to say next.” You take a breath, gaze conflicted and downcast to your food as you speak. “The Baron offered a temporary truce of our rivalry to take down this John Walker, thus allowing us to return to what we do best after Walker is taken down.” He listened intently before his nose scrunched at the idea of such. You two working together? Ha! That’d never work! “And you said yes to this crazy idea? What the Hell are you thinking, (first name)?” Your hands shoot up in defense, gaze rising to meet his own. “I know, I know! It’s a crazy idea, but you know as well as I do that if Zemo and I want things back to normal, back to the rivalry, we have to do this together so Walker is met with further resistance. If I could avoid it and deal with this American scum, no offense, then I would.”

“Some taken, but I get it. I just wonder if you two will go back to the way things are after all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll become that dreaded word you hate to associate with him in any capacity-”

“Ne t'avise pas de le dire, Anthony.”

“Friendssss.” He draws it out, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics and slap his arm with the back of your grimey hand. He pretended to show a hurt expression before chuckling when another slap came, this time to his chest. “Oh hush, we will never be friends.”

“I guess time will tell.” A shrug followed as Stark finished the last bite of his burger, crumbling the wrapper and lining up the shot with the waste bin in the corner. “He shoots,” the paper lands in the bin, his arms going up in the air. “He scores!”

“Stop goofing around, ma amie. I asked for your help with this and now I need it.”

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Three weeks have passed, and the Germany race is upon you. The Nürburgring, a beast of a track that many racers to this day in Formula 1 fear like a plague sweeping the track. Your mind has been racing as you pieced your car back together and got it ready for racing. What happens if something wasn’t installed in the engine right? What if you didn’t get the intake vents lined up just right? You were a perfectionist with your car, and you know deep down that it was ready for race day but it made your head sing with pain as a migraine sets in. That wasn’t the only thing that made it throb and bring you to lean against the chassis of your car. Zemo’s deal, it worried you sick. But you didn’t have time to think about it much today. You couldn’t dwell on it. You had a race to win.

Your eyes flick up at the speakers, listening to the message. It was press conference time. You take your seat where your name tag and flag set, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd of reporters sitting and waiting to open up questioning. To your left, Walker seats himself with a boyish, charming smile that didn’t quite meet those dark eyes. He looked your way, hand held out to you. “Hey, I hate that we didn’t get to meet earlier on. I’m John Walker.” You glance at his hand before looking back up at him. He played a good game, acting innocent like the boy scout he tried to be. You wouldn’t fall for his games, but you shook his hand briefly. “(First name) (Last name).” He grinned. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been watching you race for years now! I hate that you crashed a couple weeks ago, would have loved to have been standing on that podium with you.”

“Oui, such a shame that was. But today is a new day, Mr. Walker.” Your gaze flickered to your right, startled by your rival taking his seat and looking directly at the pair of you. The Baron never sat beside you, even going as far as to request a seat change from the press conference coordinators. Some learned to keep you two separate, others knew it would incur drama, and drama made money.

“Alright everyone, please take your seats and the conference will begin in one moment!”

“Say, did you get your car all fixed up? Must have cost a pretty penny since you don’t have any sponsors.” Walker continued on, this time his gaze looking at the reporters as he gave a brief wave to the ones he recognized from the states. “Oui.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Not much of a talker, are you?” You wanted to bite back, to say something and throw hands with this man, but you would be escorted out and disqualified in a snap. “Non.” A leg bumped yours under the table and you glance at Zemo who met your gaze briefly. Those dark brown eyes questioned if you were okay, a silent question that only you understood. The slightest nod was sent his way before looking at the reporters who got things settled and ready.

“Questions are now open-” The announcer was startled with the amount of questions directed in the direction of you three, clearing his throat as he nodded to your little trio at the table. Mr. Walker!” He gestured to the reporter, watching him stand and adjust his microphone and camera. “Mr. Walker, this question is open to the three of you. Under allegations from the previous race at The Circuit Paul Ricard, many are wondering if you had caused the accident involving Zemo and (Last name). How do you feel about these accusations?” The man had the audacity to laugh and throw that boyish smile to the camera, rubbing at his face. “Look, that was not supposed to happen once so ever. As many of my fellow racers can attest, one wrong slip of the hand on your wheel and your car will eventually go off track. I got nervous, twitched, and just so happened to bump the Baron’s car into Ms. (Last name)’s car. I feel terrible, I truly do, but it could have happened to anyone with any driver. So I refute these accusations and continue to say this is an accident.”

“And you, Baron, Ms. (Last name). How do you feel about the accusations?” The reporter gestured his question to you two now. “I respect your opinion, Mr. Walker,” Zemo began, the man smiling and sending a nod his way. “But I call, as the Americans say, bullshit.” His smile fell, darkened gaze questioning the man on what the Hell he was going on about. The reporters erupted in questioning, trying to get the attention of the two racers who stare each other down around you. You lean back a bit for them to have a better view-line, One of the American reporters calling your name. You use this moment to break the tension. “Oui?”

“Do you believe you stand a chance as a woman against these two leading men now that John Walker is starting to gain points and nearing your total?” You blink at his question before taking a deep breath, holding it to calm your throbbing head, and releasing it slowly. “Oui, I do. I believe I can keep up just as well as any racer. Take my racing career with Zemo. I have kept up with his old extrémité arrière.” The French reporters in the room resound in a fit of chuckles, bringing a smile to your face. “And against Walker?” You meet his gaze as he stares at you expectantly for an answer, forcing that smile he tried to use on you earlier. “I believe I stand quite a good chance, but que le meilleur coureur gagne.” You shrug, listening as the smaller drivers get asked their questions. The whole time there are eyes burning into the left side of your head, waiting until the racers are dismissed. Walker watches you as you walk out, watching the way Zemo comes up in tow as you make your way to the car bay. Something was up, and he could feel that there were clearly doubts in your mind about the accident in France. He would just have to deal with you later. “(First name), wait!” Zemo followed you into the bay, slowing from his jog to keep up with you to a stop near the desk holding your notes about the race and your vehicle. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in person since the bar.” He paused, looking into those eyes of yours that gaze at him curiously. “Are you ready for this, fräulein?”

“Aussi prêt que possible, Baron.” You busy yourself with inspecting your car for any last minute changes, the man watching you as you inspect and work. “Good, good. And we are still a go, yes?”

“Oui, we are still, as you said, a go.” He grinned at you, gaze flickering down your back as he looked over your uniform. Of course he had noticed you in all aspects before, talent and skill being the top, but never had he been this close like the night at the bar and now to really see you. Maybe after all of this, even with the rivalry, you could be friends, dare he say anything more than such. “You’re staring.” You quip, breaking him from his trance to meet your gaze. The faintest hint of color lingered on your cheeks. He coughed, trying to clear away the embarrassment lingering in his form. Why was he getting embarrassed? “Just thinking about what will be left behind when I pass you on the track, mein liebe.” Your eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed, the man relaxing due to how calm you are around him. No biting his head off, no anger, just chill. You stand and give a playful shove to his shoulder, smiling at the Sokovian. “In your dreams, Sokovian. Now, get the fuck out of my car bay.” He smiled to himself as he walked away, mind now clouded by the smile that lingered on your lips. He liked when you smiled, and he had to make sure this plan worked.

The race was gearing up to start, the same process as before coming into play. Car, balaclava, wheel. You take your moment to breathe, today your speed has placed you in second, just as the plan entailed. Zemo took the first position. He glanced your way, sending a nod in your direction, only to smirk beneath the balaclava when you flip him off like usual. The rivalry was still on, no matter what he would still have that after dealing with Walker. Still have you in one sense or another. Your glance focused in on the man across the way in the pole position opposite of you, his eyes locked on the two of you before meeting your gaze. There he stares you down, even as his helmet slipped on. The visor was flipped down at the one minute warning, eliminating the final clarifying view of his gaze. It was clear he was cautious of you, maybe even lingering with hate.

“Fahrer! Starten...sie ihre....Motoren!

That familiar purr settles into your chest, spreading through your body like a dam breaking and flooding the valley below. It stirs up the motivation to win once more, removing any doubt from your mind as you rev your engine. Zemo was right, Walker had to be stopped. With this attitude about racing, playing his little mind games and wrecking racers, he’d get someone killed just for first place. You couldn’t allow that...but you also couldn’t allow the rivalry you have established with Zemo to be broken because of someone else. There was too much there to be lost. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, licking your lips beneath the helmet as you prepare yourself for takeoff. The lights start counting down the race. Five seconds away, one green and two red lights. You watch them count down until the bottom lines of red are fully lit, then they flash off. You’re off, following Zemo right on the tail of his car as you start into the track. This track was a beast, your mind racing as it remembers every nook and cranny of it. Seventy three corners, eleven danger points, hair pin turns, all on a 12.8 mile long course that was deadly in the onset of any weather and people who get careless with their moves. Lucky enough, the sky was only overcast. No rain, little wind to interfere with the aerodynamics and mobility of the chassis, just the perfect chill in the air to remind you where you were in this moment. You take your turns with ease, avoiding the group of cars that began to follow suit on the track behind your own. Your eyes remained locked in on every shift to your side, Walker keeping close by within each turn and danger point you went through.

As you drive, Walker gets up past you within one of the speed trap areas, the stretch of road allowing him to be up beside Zemo and leave you on the back of their tires. Zemo had a plan, you believed in this plan… but had he just been toying with you to get closer to Walker? Doubt clouded your mind, even as you sped up in an attempt to join the boys directly in the front. Perhaps you shouldn’t have followed this plan, even as you get through the first twenty five laps, then the next twenty five. Each turn brought your tyres closer to Walkers who eyed you cautiously from time to time, as if silently daring you to pull a move like he did. Maybe you’d be caught and black flagged. Hell, that would make his fucking day if that happened. As he watched you, he had failed to notice on the wider strip of the track how Zemo began to drift further and further ahead. Then he was side tracked, Zemo slowing abruptly and stealing the attention of the young American driver. “What the Hell!?” He yelled over the roar of multiple motors, watching your car join Zemo’s side and the original speed be resumed. Now you sat beside Zemo on the track, pedal to the floorboard as you two kept your lead and basically walled Walker in. Each time he tried to drift around, one of you would shift your car just enough to keep him locked in. A grin met your lips as you drove, the energy of the race taking a whole new shift as you got closer and closer to the last lap with your rival right at your side. Tips of the chassis lined up perfectly, rear aerodynamic fins aligned like a well oiled machine. You two were in perfect sync as you put Zemo’s plan into action. Create a wall of impenetrable magnitude. If Walker tried anything, all three of you would go down. If he tried to get around, he would be blocked. There was no getting out from behind you two.

The checkered flag waved in the quickly approaching distance, your gaze for a moment looking at your rival. The blur of purple was steady, lined with yours like that of an air jet's flight coordination. Perfectly straight, and running at full throttle like you are. As your cars pass the finish line, debate begins to rise. It was too close in the end to call, at least not right away. You slow, allowing the purple beast to pass by and enter the pit before you, a silent gesture of courtesy to the man you worked with. He sent a small nod your way when he watched you get out of your car, helmet removed along with his balaclava and revealing the joyful grin resting on his lips. Anyone else would mistaken it for cockiness, but the look in his eyes said it all. You two did it, you beat Walker in the race! He must be furious! A breath is held on your end, helmet and the fabric covering your face discarded as you turn your gaze away from the arriving racers and the man you drove along with. You were locked in on that score board, curiosity eating at you for who may have won the race. You were neck in neck with the man, the smallest push forward could earn either of you the points for the day. No names shown yet, and you anxiously leaned on the hot surface of the carbon fiber vehicle as you waited. Each noise around you from the slow dwindle of engines to low, fading purrs to the pit crews of your respective teams surrounding you, your rival, and the newcomer were drowned out by the pounding of your heart as it flooded your ear drums. It felt like hours passed as you kept your gaze locked on, ignoring the happy clamour of your crew, the clasp of hands on your shoulder and pats on your back, even down to the ruffling of your hair in glee. Then it flashed up.

1st: (First initial). (Last name)

1st: H. Zemo

2nd: J. Walker

The press goes crazy over the news, each respective country reporting their amazement over the finishing results.

“Ein fehlerfreier, aber überraschender Sieg für Baron Helmut Zemo, der mit (First name) (Last name) gleichauf den ersten Platz belegt!”

“Victoire pour la championne de France (First name) (Last name) alors qu'elle rejoint le Baron Helmut Zemo dans une rare égalité!”

“In a remarkable and truly unprecedented event in The Nürburgring F1 race! Baron Helmet Zemo and (First name) (Last name) tied in a photo finish for first place, a rare occurrence that has set back American racer John Walker from the potential for first place!”

Your breath comes out shaky, slowly slipping out as reality hits you like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs as a happy noise rings out from your lips, joining your crew in the celebration as they hug and surround you. You placed first. Zemo placed first. Curiosity met you, your gaze looking to the man who celebrated with his own crew before allowing himself a chance to settle his gaze on you in turn. There he sent a wink, a silent congratulations that made you shake your head at his antics before refocusing on the celebration. You would be standing with the man in first place on that podium, both sharing the victory wreath and spraying champagne all over the crowd of fans and your respective pit crews who were basking in the glory just as much as you two were. You couldn’t help the glee bubbling up in your form, even as you make your way not too far from your rival. For a second, just a split second, you let the rivalry go and let your smile be seen in accompaniment with his gleeful grin, shoulders bumping when you’re positioned at the podium by the F1 management crew. Press swarm to the area like flies to a summer barbecue, wanting to catch a glimpse of the rivals standing together, being on the podium and sharing first place. “Not so bad working with my, as you put it earlier, old extrémité arrière, hm?” He questioned as you two stood together, the closeness you two were forced into for the photographers far more comfortable than it would have been under any other circumstances. He blamed the feelings he had at this moment on the victory over Walker, over the rest of the racers, not even thinking that perhaps this was beyond the fact that he won but that you, his favorite rival, won alongside him. “Non, not the worst.” You joked lightly, forcing a serious face for the cameras when they began to picture you two side by side on the first place stand. He accepted the bottle of champagne before you could, holding it out. “You may have the honor, (First name).” Your fingers brush his own as you grasp the bottle with him, popping the cork and sending the bubbly to decorate the crowd. Flash after flash met you as you stood alongside Zemo and basked in the glory of the win. “How about drinks to celebrate? Even as rivals, I believe a drink wouldn’t hurt.” He whispered the question, causing your gaze to lock on his own in brief surprise. Was he serious!? “I um..Oui, sure. Meet you in town?” He nods, gaze seeming to glimmer ever so brighter as he takes his leave. Even when you separate to get cleaned of the alcohol and switch to “civilian clothing”, your smile doesn’t falter. Maybe it would be good for you to drink the night away with company that didn’t seem as bad as you once had thought before.

As you begin to peel away the racing suit, the flame resistant material bunching at your waist and revealing the open expanses of your back, the simplistic bra strap over the back the only material seen, you fail to hear the seething man enter your car bay. “Do you know what you just did, Ms. (Last name)? Who you fucked with?” Walker puts his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him, his face inches away from yours. “You went and fucked with the wrong man. You could have just accepted your loss, licked your wounds, and we would have been just fine. But oh no, you had to go and fuck with my winning streak with that Sokovian piece of shit.” He huffed when you shove him back, gaze narrowed and arms crossing over your bra covered chest out of annoyance. You could care less what he saw. “I don’t see why you’re so mad, Mr. Walker. You got a taste of your own medicine after that stunt you pulled back in France. You and I both know that was no accident.”

“You know what? Yeah, I did that. But I see you are working with Zemo now, which is also a big no-no in Formula 1. Seems we’re both sinners of the race. The greed of it.” His tone was a hushed, harsh whisper. There was no need to alert anyone that he was in your private quarters harassing you. “I’m nothing like you.” Your tone came out in a hiss, his downturned lips curving up into a grin at your response. “Oh sweetheart, I beg to differ.” He chuckled at the narrowed gaze he was met with. “You and your Sokovian boy toy need to back off. Let this happen like it should or you’ll not like what happens next.”

“And just what do you think you’ll do, John? Because all I’m hearing right now is a lot of talking with no proof of any big execution.” Your lazy grin and scoff of annoyance at his presence left him to raise his hands in mock defeat, hands coming to rest on your shoulders once more with a harsh grip that made your body tense and hold you there. He leaned in, even as you tried to lean away, his lips moving in close near your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” His tone alone makes your body betray you, the calm, cool, and collected front slipping as a shiver ran up your spine at his warning. And with that, he leaves you to get dressed for the night.

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Zemo texts you an address for a bar off the beaten path in Cologne, Germany, further than you had anticipated in going from the track but a welcomed change of scenery. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” The words stick with you, even as you drive the main road into the big city, looking for the bar Zemo had invited you to. It was connected to a hotel, a fancy hotel at that, with old architecture and lavish exterior. You could only imagine the interior! A nervous breath is taken as you get out of the car, gaze meeting the man you had just won with. He smiled at you, clothing casual and the air around him feeling far more comforting now than ever. The incident with Walker had left you rattled, sending your nerve endings to buzz and let your body know that you aren’t okay. Even though you felt off, you force a smile to the man who wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders and led you in to sit at the quiet bar. “So, did I not tell you the plan would work?”

“I just thought it was your cockiness talking, but I will admit, though it physically pains me to do so…” You pause, biting your lip. “Well?” You sigh. “You were right.” The words come out struggled and forced, the man's grin growing at such. “Ah~, I don’t believe I caught that.” “Oh va te faire foutre!” He chuckled at your words, hand raised towards the bartender to get you drinks. “What are you ordering?”

“Shots. We deserve something to toast our victory to, and I don’t believe champagne is your drink of choice.” He offered you one of the smaller glasses, his own raised before him as he locks those bright brown eyes with your own. “Ein Prost! To us, and our victory over John Walker. May that American schwein taste defeat again.” You raise your glass, hoping to drink away any thoughts about Walker's warning and leave it for the next day. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided right then and there that you would finally have fun and disregard the night that you sat across from your rival. Tonight you just wanted to drink. “À la vôtre!” The drink is bitter as it hits your throat and travels down your body, causing a warmth to spread soon after. Kuemmerling, a bitter concoction of herbaceous and bittersweet flavors. A drink of choice for Zemo it seemed because soon after the shots were downed, he ordered another round.

Shot after shot after shot is taken down until your body is leaning against his own and a joke that is shaky at best from his part sends you into a roar of laughter. He holds you close, laughing right along with you. “So... It’s Barenjar?” He snorts at your piss poor pronunciation of the new liquor joining the mix, shaking his head at you as he looks on with drunken vision. “Nien, nien, Bärenjäger. Say it with me. Bä-”

“Bä-”

“Ren-”

“Jäger!”

“Mick Jagger?”

He laughs in defeat, shaking his head as he watched you. So relaxed, so calm. He hasn’t seen you like this before in his life. He’s startled by your sudden movements after downing your last shot for the night, catching you as you try to stand and stumble as your feet betray you. Your body landing against his, his arms slotting themselves around your waist as your drunken gaze catches his own. Those brown eyes of his are hypnotizing, keeping your gaze locked on his own. “I have something to confess, (First name).” He paused to wet his lips, trying to piece the words together in his hazy mind. “I have liked you since the day I met you.” He finally blurts out, fingers moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “You’re infuriating, yet calming. Stubborn and determined. Your smile is lovely and those eyes…” He trails off, leaving your hazy mind questioning what was going to come after, but you hardly have time to think about it as he pressed in closer, face inches from your own. The smell of Bärenjäger and Kuemmerling lingered on his breath as it fanned over your face, those brown eyes searching for something in your own. “Can you feel it, the connection we have? Can you see that we are not just rivals now?” His tone was just barely above a whisper, questioning you with a hint of desperation to his tone.

“Oui.”

That was the only answer he needed. His lips are on yours with fever and desperation, hands clinging to your form for dear life after hearing the words that sent him to fully fall into the feeling of you. You were his comfort, the one constant thing in his life. His rival...but right now you were the woman he sloppily kissed at the hotel bar as the bartender tried to catch his attention to tell you that you both were cut off for the night. His hands moved to grip at your thigh and tangle in your hair, abandoning the idea of holding anything back, the liquor giving him courage to make a move on you. He has wanted to do this for years, touch you, feel you, have you there with him in any way he could. He separated only when the threat of security was offered by the bartender, lips kiss swollen and a faint pant falling from them. “Come.” His hand takes hold of yours, leading you along to the lift and up to his room for the night. This hotel that he called home for the time being would serve well for what he had in mind to do to you. He led you inside, not even waiting for the door to close as he captured your lips once more, hands taking your rear in his grasp and hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around him, back pressed up against the closest wall he could find. He held you there, lips separating to begin trailing hungry kisses down the column of your throat and allow his hands to trace along your sides. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the bare skin there, wanting what he has longed for since the day he met you. A noise fell from your lips as he lazily suckled a mark over your pulse point, your fingers tangling into his dark hair and tugging the locks when his hips grounded against your own. He couldn’t help the fire blooming in his body, needy for the creature that has teased him for all these years, The one he thought he would never have a chance with because of their hate for each other on the track. He needed you, and in your current state, you were willing to accept any touch he offered. He was just Helmut Zemo tonight. Not your rival, not the Baron, just Helmut. And you were his (First name).

A groan left his lips when you pulled him by his hair away from your neck, hands working to take your shirt up and over your head. Throwing it aside, he looked at you with a gaze of admiration. It was similar to the gaze he gave when looking at the new modifications to his car, taking pride in the beauty of things that drove him to win. He dampens his lips, fingers lazily dragging up the expanses of your back from bottom to top, resting on the clasp of the garment covering your breast. “Darf ich?” Your nod was all he needed, the clasp undone with skilled fingers that knew precision, holding still on your back when your arms rose to take the garment and throw it in an unknown direction to be forgotten about for the time being. He wasted no time with taking one of your breasts in hand, fingers running over the sensitive bud of one while he took the other in his mouth, suckling and lavishing with his tongue. He took his time, drunken yet slowly sobering mind savoring each and every noise that fell from your lips as he toyed with your body. You’re barely into foreplay and he already has your panties soaked, the Baron being a creature that knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going without even knowing your body. He was skilled, that much was for sure in your mind as he switched to the other breast, paying equal attention to each. Those brown eyes of his don’t leave your face for a second, watching every reaction and trying to commit them to memory. If he could only have you tonight, he wanted to remember everything he possibly could. Every detail of your body, everything that drew a hitched breath or a low moan from your lips. Every shaky breath and the way your body would press closer to his greedy mouth and hand. He stored it all away. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and fancy this a pleasant dream...It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten worked up by thinking about you.

His hand traveled downward, cupping your sex through your pants as his own grinds up against your thigh, straining through the fabric of his pants. He ached for you, for your heated skin to be pressed against his own in a delicious rut of bodies. He traced along the seam, hearing the low whine that fell from your lips as he teased you through the material. “Helmut, stop for a moment.” The man paused all actions, his gaze shifted to a worried state as he met your eyes and spoke with concern. “Are you alright, mein liebling?”

“Oui.” Your fingers trace his jaw, the man's face briefly pressing in against your palm before delivering a soft kiss to the area. A tender gesture that sent butterflies to flutter in your stomach and heart to speed further than the foreplay had already caused. “I just...Take me to the bedroom. Please?” You preferred not being right beside the door where anyone could listen in, where anyone could hold a camera up to the peephole and record the sexual pleasures of the infamous Wildcard and Baron. That would make a top headline, wouldn’t it? He gave a chuckle at your demand, nodding as he kept his grip on you, your legs wrapping just a hint tighter around him as he moved you both to the bedroom. He’s gentle with setting you down, looking down at you when you unwrap your arms and legs from his form. “Scheiße, du bist perfekt.” He slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, working each plastic piece through the loop with fingers that were known for precision on the course. A shift in his steering, taking hold of the semi-automatic paddle-shifters as he drove, it was all well calculated and that applied on and off the track. His shirt is shrugged off his shoulders, thrown aside before focusing on the belt on his pants. He gets it off with what can only be deemed a darkening gaze, knowing he’s getting closer and closer to having you. You rose to let your hands trail his chest, roaming over the lean muscle that rested there as feather light kisses met his collarbone. A shiver met his spine, shooting up in bliss as he allowed a moment to savor the feeling of you touching his skin. Your skin was so warm, so inviting. He was getting lost in everything.

Your fingers shift down his torso, trailing his abdomen before looping in the belt loops of his pants to pull him forward, a low growl falling from his lips when you place a kiss above the waistline of his pants. Your movements were confident, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down to reveal the tent hidden behind his underwear. He swallowed thickly as he kicked his pants off, watching your every move as you cup him through the thin fabric, thumb moving to brush over the leaking tip and cause a shaky breath to leave him. “Maus-” A groan leaves his lips when a jerk through the fabric is given, his head falling back briefly. He huffed when you repeated the motion, fingers anxious to wrap around his bare flesh and feel that hot skin in the palm of your hand. But he stops you, hand wrapping around your own and bringing it to his lips once more. “Tonight is not about me, maus.” You’re surprised when the man placed his hand on your chest, lightly pushing you back to lay on the bed as he slowly sank down onto his knees, ”Es geht nur um dich.’ His lips drag slowly across your skin, trailing light kisses and nips along your abdomen and resting at the waist of your pants. He glanced up, a silent question of courtesy offered your way as his fingers loop in the band, asking permission like a proper gentleman. “Go ahead.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, his presence making you feel like you’re floating higher and higher on this ride with him. He gave a tug, your rear lifting and back arching to aid the man as he pulled your pants down and let them fall to join the scattered articles around the room. You’d have to go on a damn scavenger hunt just to find your clothes! But none of that mattered now, not when his hot breath is fanning over your needy core and face nuzzling at your thighs. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh before another followed, then another as he began to trail inward towards your covered core. “Aufgeregt?” He purred in questioning, a low rumble of a chuckle coming from deep within his chest spilling out at the small nod he is met with, loving how he has left you damn near speechless just by being so close. Your hips jump back before he gets a grip on them, his tongue moving over the wet fabric and causing a light whine to spill from your lips. “Helmut, please.” Oh, hearing you speak his name only egged him on further, needing you. He needed to taste you, to feel you. He needed you in every way, and his drunken mind only pushed him on to pull the fabric away from your legs and stare at the glory that is you. So wet, so beautiful. He wasted no more time, bringing your legs to hook over his shoulders and delved into the intoxicating honey pot he had been offered. He started off slowly, a long lap from entrance to clit given before the motion was repeated just to hear the noise that left your lips with each swipe. Zemo was mapping you out, taking note of what areas made your thighs twitch and tense, what areas made your hips jump back at the sensitivity of his touch, and what made those oh so delicious noises spill from your mouth.

He allows his tongue to focus in on your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a rhythm that sends your head to spin and moan after moan to spill from your lips. “Merde!” He smirked against your core when your hand shot down to tangle in his locks, needing stability after he took your clit between his lips and suckled. He repeats the motion, gaze locked on your own and watching the sudden shock of the feeling run through your body. You were so reactive, and just for him. A lazy lick is given to the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your hips jerk lightly and seeing the tremble that began to settle into your thighs. “Close?” He questioned as if he was questioning about an everyday thing, totally not giving the impression he was getting you close to orgasm just with that sinful tongue and lips of his. O-Oui.” Your tone was shaky, breathy, eyes half lidded and watching his every move on you. “Gut.” A gasp fell from your lips when he sank a digit into your hot, needy core, arching along the way and searching for the sweet spot deep within. He wasn’t like the inexperienced boys who would just jab their fingers into their partner and hope it hits something. No, his fingers curled, probed, dragged and felt for that spot in a way that showed his experience. A second digit is added not too long after the first, probing the flesh within until he hears your moan and finds that spot that drives you to clamp your thighs around his head. A groan left his lips at the rush of slick is met with each probe, massaging that spot within you and only adding to the tension building in your core. Each throb he was met with only spurred him on. He was on a mission to bring you over the edge, and he would do anything to get you off. When his mouth returned to your still sensitive clit, tongue flicking of the bundle and including the occasional suckle while his fingers moved deep within, you were done for. A rough tug is given to his hair as your body convulses, thighs clamping around him and grinding your hips down against his eager tongue. He helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your clit until you give a light shove to his head to make him stop. A wicked smile crosses his features as he gives one final suckle, a squeak leaving your lips at the motion and shoving him back as much as your trembling body allows. He can only chuckle at the attempt, fingers removing from your throbbing core. He watched your gaze land on him when you caught sight of the digits, watching the man move his glance to them as if he was inspecting them before a quiet whimper left your lips when they were taken one by one into his mouth. He made it a show, teasing you as he cleaned each digit of your juices in a slow motion. Sinking down to the knuckle before returning and licking at whatever was left. “Tease.” You huffed, chest rising and falling steadily with your hammering heart. “Oh you know you like it.” He retorted, lazily letting his body climb up and over yours on the plush mattress.

He pushed the final material separating you from him away, throwing the underwear away before letting himself settle in against your body. Zemo wasted no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, lips joining yours as he lined up with you, one hand taking hold of your hip while the other took hold of your hair, tugging it back enough to have access to your neck. As he begins to ease himself within you, his lips attach at a section of your neck, a harsh mark left in his wake as he sinks inch by inch within the lightly pulsing core that he toyed with before. A groan was left against your skin when he was fully settled, grip rough on your hip but movements gentle as he waited for you to adjust. He was no animal, not cruel! He knew that there was a possibility for pain if he moved too soon, and even in his drunken haze he recognized the look in your eyes, the slight twinge of pain from his size alone. The stretch wasn’t unpleasant, no, but it was an intrusion you weren’t quite used to when normally doing this. He lightly placed kisses to sooth you along the mark he left, trailing them up the underside of your chin, going along your jaw before soon connecting with your lips in a soft kiss. Something to distract you until you were ready for him to move. A shift of your hips was given when you tested the feeling of him in you, the moan that left your lips causing a low growl to fall from his own. He lifted his body to loom over yours, hand moving from your hair to cup a breast as he sets a slow, deep and even borderline sensual pace within your core. Slowly out until the tip stayed just barely in before plunging deeply into your warm, wet depths. He huffed with each push of his cock within your core, meeting your moans with a faint groan here or a soft growl there when your walls gripped him just right. He was losing composure with each faint twitch of your walls around him, pace beginning to pick up into a steady rhythm that developed the noise of slick skin hitting skin and the bed beneath to creak ever so slightly with each movement. “Verdammt!” He could tell how your walls began to tighten around him, how each noise leaving your lips grew louder and louder. His poor neighbors, hearing you both so vividly through the walls of the hotel. Yet he didn’t care who heard. As long as they knew that in this moment, you were his to take, that was all that mattered. Zemo moved his thumb to your clit, working the bundle along with the assault he laid on your sensitive spot deep within. Each clamp around him brought his own release to come closer and closer. “Cum for me, maus.” He demanded with a grunt, needing to feel you come undone to reach his own release. His words hit somewhere deep in you, the demand that was laced with a plea driving you to your second orgasm of the night. He groaned as he felt you clamp around him, the sensation alone causing him to remove himself from you and spill onto your stomach with a few quick pumps of his hand along his slick coated member. He pants, taking in the sight of you one final time for the time being. Messy, slickened by your own arousal and sweat. Your hair was messed up, your lips parted and panting. To add the cherry on top, you were coated in his release, a sight for sore eyes while you lay like this. He made you like this, and it swells his drunken ego.

Slowly he eased down to lay at your side, bringing you in against him with an almost delicate kiss delivered to your temple. Your breathing slowly evened out, head resting against his chest as his fingers trail along your back, drawing imaginary patterns as his mind begins to blank. The alcohol was taking effect, causing him to enter a lull and for his eyes to flutter shut. As you lay there, catching your breath, you watch as he drifts away, a single question beginning to enter your sobering mind.

“What have I done?”

Tag List: @darksxder | @mymagicsuitcase | @mischief-siriusly-managed | @alindeluce

#Baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #racing au #daniel brühl #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #baron zemo x reader #john walker #john walker is STILL an asshole #multichapter story #chapter 2 #“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

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drkoestersmithrpg · 3 years

Text

worked a little on this

Bad Day

He had flunked the final. He knew it. There was no arguing about it. He didn’t have the strength to argue. He would have moved heaven and earth NOT to admit it, but the time had come to admit it. He couldn’t take 21 hours and make good grades.

Well, maybe he could… but he had forgotten VERY one important thing.

Well… two important things.

One - he was Spider-Man. And he could create and recreate and recalibrate schedules all day every day, but the criminals of New York City just never seemed to listen.

And number two, he was dating THE Tony Stark.

Add all these factors into the equation and what did that add up to? Well probably an equation that he couldn’t solve because he was an idiot who flunked his final and would never get his math major, that’s what.

As he stomped through the snow back to his dormroom from Dale Hall (okay that was a lie, he was too dejected to stomp, he was too broken to stomp) he cursed everything about his life. He knew he could have aced all his classes if he didn’t have Spider-Man duties. He knew he would be an excellent Spider-Man if he wasn’t trying to ace all his classes. And maybe… just maybe… just maybe he COULD do both of those things, and do them well, if he didn’t have a full-time serious boyfriend…

It hit him like lightening. Like scripture. It was the sudden and complete definition of epiphany. He stopped in his tracks and pulled out his phone. Actually stepped off the sidewalk, stood in the falling snow, and dropped his backpack onto the icy pavement and texted furiously. Texted before he could think about it.

//Are we on for tonight?//

he texted to said full-time serious boyfriend.

Quickly. That was the key. Quickly, before he had time to chicken out.

//Because I need something.//

Don’t think just text don’t think just text text fast before you think

//I’m really hoping you can Take Care Of Me tonight.//

He hurried through the frozen campus back to his dormroom. There were some essentials he had to take care of before he could show up at the penthouse, and he rushed through them. The faster they were done, the less time to stress out. The faster he got to Tony’s place, the less time he had to live with that knot in his stomach.

And the knot in his stomach - he knew exactly what that was about. It happened every time there was a scheduled ‘take care of me’ night. It wasn’t the knot of apprehension, it was the knot of doubt.

The doubt of “am-I-really-going-to-go-through-with-this?”

And there was only one way to get rid of THAT knot, Peter knew. And that was to get his ass over to the penthouse. Once he rode up that elevator (or in through the suit-pad door. When he webslung his way over there, he just entered through the suit-pad door. And that’s what he was doing today. It was worse than freezing in the skies of NYC, but he’d chicken out in the time it took to take the elevator) and walked into Tony’s arms, well, that’s when the knot always let go. Not because he wasn’t still nervous. But because, by walking into Tony’s arms, he had committed. From then on, whatever Tony wanted, Peter would do.

And that still made him nervous. He couldn’t help it. When Tony wanted to “take care of him” in that special way… well… it just made Peter nervous. Not because it was scary (oh, but it was) but because it was so intense. That’s why they didn’t do it very often… only for special occasions.

And fucking up his Differential Equations final? Well, if there was ever a special occasion, this was it.

* * *

[that purse sntacher that PEter caught sight of ont hew ay there had to be th emost unlucky criminal in the whole world. When he gets all those lose ends tighed up he finds Tony already there, ready for him. He tears up and sinks into Tony’s arms. “I fucked up.” Tony has ordered food - Peter was hoping to be hand-fed, god he didn’t even REALIZE how badly he wants it, not that he wants yogurt and apple sauce but because the LAST THING he wants is to sit down at a dinner and act like an adult and eat with a fork and talk … OH GOD he REALY doesn’t want to talk about had badly he screwed himself and proved that he really couldn’t take on this massive corseload AND be a good boyfriend AND an avdnger, he REALY doesn’t want to have this conversation with the dude who graduated from MIT at 17… then Tony says I’ll cut the pad thair for you, would you like your coco first? Peter smiles. Is there wonton soup? OF COURSE there is…

I’m going to take care of you baby.

“No, the fuzzy one.” Peter pouted, as he snuggled against the soft grey pillows, snuggled under the soft grey throw. He wasn’t entirely sure that Tony had bought this new sectional just for the “Take Care Of You” game, but Tony had bought this particular sectional right after the first “Take Care Of You” game, and he wasn’t sure they had used it for any other purpose.

The look on Tony’s face now made him giggle. Peter wasn’t drunk, but he felt drunk, and it was a lovely sensation.

“I thought you didn’t like the ‘fuzzy’ one,” Tony said indulgently, still looking at him strangely. Peter couldn’t deny that this was the case. The special blanket Tony had bought (and he had bought it for the “Take Care Of You” game, there was no denying that) Peter had found far too irritating. He had complained, at the time, that it was his spider-senses, an annoying side-effect of his superpowers, making certain tactile input just too much to handle. But that hadn’t been entirely true. He had rejected the blanket had because it had felt too childish. He couldn’t say why. Maybe because the grey [description of Eeyore.] ? And while he had accepted almost al of the aspects of the game [be helpless, being out of control] being childish wasn’t something he felt comfortable with. Even when he was being spoon-fed marshmallows from his cocoa.

But he also couldn’t explain why tonight was different.

So he didn’t try.

“I just want the fuzzy one tonight,” he said again, trying, this time, to sound more coherent. More adult. “Tonight is special.”

Tony considered, nodded, then wordlessly took the black comforter back to the closet and searched for the original grey blanket. Behind him, Peter hid his face in the pillows. Dammit, why did he have to day that? “Tonight is special?” How the hell was he going to explain that tonight was “special” and that “special” meant “I Fucked Up Royally and I’m Going To Get My First Bad Grade In My Life?” Let alone the part where [“ there’s no one he can explain that to because ALL they will say is that he shouldn’t have taken so many hours so soon and he wasn’t want to hear that.]

Of course, maybe he didn’t have to explain. Maybe it wouldn’t come up. He distracted himself by looking at the hot coco now steaming in a grey cup on the table. He could reach out for it himself, but no… it would be so much sweeter to wait and let Tony come and feed it too him. He marveled, not for the first time, how the [he’s waiting for Tony to come and feed it to him. He marvels how the grey blanket and the grey sectional match the grey cup - Tony put so much though into this. He’s REALLY going to let Tony have his way tonight.]

Tony had put the remote control in his hand when he had led him to the sofa, but Peter had let it fall to the floor. He had started to look for something to watch, but turned off the screen when he realized, with a start, that he was looking for some old cartoons to watch. He hoped Tony wouldn’t notice. Sometimes they snuggled on the couch and watched movies before the “Taking Care” game began. Peter hoped they could skip that tonight. Tonight he was in bad shape.

Which was ridiculous… absurd that a potential bad grade could make him feel more pain than grievous physical injury ever could.

But in the end, weren’t they both just signs of his complete failure?

He started to tear up even now – oh god Tony never asked him WHY he needed the game tonight, and he wasn’t sure what he would do if Tony asked the question. But this was ridiculous – Tony couldn’t find him in tears, or he really would ask. Peter looked for the clicker in an effort to distract himself. He had to calm down. He took deep breaths and tried to distract himself. Doing [something involving differential equations] in his head didn’t help. He settled for going over the rules of the game.

(sees it like an outline, like a syllabus that ridiculous professor gave them that rambled on and made no sense? No, no, he wasn’t going to blame his professor for his colossal failure.)

Rule #1: Safety Word

The safety word was ‘foot cramp,’ although Peter had stopped it before just by saying “I need a break.” Tony was always ready to back up, knowing they would resume after Peter had pulled away long enough to breathe a little (or to take over for a moment. Usually kissing Tony hard, just for a minute, was all it took.)

Rule #2: Words, Code Words and the 3rd Person

They had established that soft food was too much, and that regular food, cut into tiny bits, would still work. It was the hand-feeding that mattered. The word “baby” was all right, as long as it wasn’t in the 3rd person. So “messy baby” and “does that feel good baby?” were alright, but “Does baby want his _____ (noodles, cup, blanket) now?” was out.

The word “daddy” was alright, although it would only be used Tony. And it was alright for Tony to refer to himself in the third person (“Can daddy make you feel good?” was alright. And “Will you be a good boy for Daddy?” made Peter weak in the knees.)

Peter never used the word “Daddy,” of course. Although he had tried to do it, because he knew Tony wanted it, it just never came. He reasoned that the word didn’t mean anything to him. He had no member of ever calling anyone ‘daddy,’ ever.

Rule #3: Codes

“Is my baby okay?” was a status check, and while it was not a rule, Peter had learned that Tony would trust his answer better if Peter didn’t answer automatically. If he stopped, took a breath, and then nodded yes [ Tony trusted that he was telling the truth.]

“My tummy hurts” was code to indicate that he was still in the nervous stage, which meant Tony would slow down, or else another back rub was in order. Sometimes both.

There were other rules, too, rules that they never talked about. [He KNOWS Tony wants him to engage in baby-talk, tony never comes out and asks but Peter can get the hint. The BEST he can do is uh-uh and uh-hu and nodding and shaking his head (he’s perfected the art of closing his eyes tight and shaking his head to say ‘no’ a move which is is proud of.)

Four-letter words were out, but slipping up was NOT indication that the game is over (ideally, Tony said, the game wasn’t over until Peter had fallen asleep.) And it was generally agreed at if Peter cried out “oh fuck that feels good tony” it was Tony’s own fault for being so damn good.

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bullshittierlists · 4 years

Photo

I see no god up here other than me

Ty Lee- Ty Lee is best girl and I find it hard to argue with that statement. She’s just so bouncy and cute and honestly really powerful for not being a bender. I mean, the ability to paralyze someone on contact, much less being able to pinpoint specific parts of the body to paralyze, it’s just incredible. She was so cute in that beach episode because all the guys hit on her, which of course they do, have you seen how cute she is? I’m not super on board with her backstory, but it wasn’t a huge part of her character, so it’s fine.

Sokka- The man, the myth, the legend. It’s been said before, but the only reason Sokka couldn’t bend is because the creators knew he’d be too powerful. That’s the same reason he has to put his hair up. Also, he’s totally bi, change my mind.

Jet- I have several friends that watch this show and that watched the show before me. They all knew that I’d like Jet because he’s a “backstabbing traitor” despite their hatred of him and I guess I have a trend of liking those characters. I jokingly agreed with them and was excited to meet him. Little did I know just how much I would fall in love with him. A lot of my friends say that it’s just because he’s cute or he’s a sad boy, but there are honestly so many reasons to love him. I absolutely adore psychology and deep-diving into the minds of characters and his mentality is so intriguing. You would think this would lean me more towards Zuko, then. But Zuko gets so much focus that his psychology is always precedent, right front and center. But Jet doesn’t get that spotlight. I originally liked him more because he was under-appreciated, but now I realize just how amazing he is. At a very surface level, his actions are bad. He’s trying to murder innocent people for the sake of getting rid of a few fire nation soldiers. But as soon as you look deeper into his intentions, you can clearly see how badly he wanted to do good. These types of characters are always the saddest, the characters who think they are helping the world by destroying it. They legitimately think that the actions they are taking are the right ones even when everyone around them thinks otherwise. Other examples of this type of character are JD from Heathers and even Hector from Castlevania to some extent. Yes, he acknowledges that he will be sacrificing innocent lives. But he also knows that he will be saving lives in the future by going through with the dam plan. There’s so much more I could say about him, but I’ve been rambling for long enough.

Zuko- There’s nothing I could say about Zuko that hasn’t been said before. I already gushed about Jet for entirely too long, so have this instead: Sokka and Zuko have a wonderful relationship and I think that both parties could have benefitted greatly from being together romantically. Thank you.

You’re the best

Iroh- What can I say? He’s a good old man with lots of wisdom that we should all take to heart.

Momo- Some of my favorite parts of the entire show were scenes with Sokka and Momo just vibing. There should’ve been more emphasis on Sokka’s relationship with the animals in general.

Appa- I was really excited when Sokka started flying on Appa without Aang the first time, because I thought that meant that Sokka had created a really unique bond with Appa and was the only other one that could fly him. I was mistaken and incredibly upset.

Teo- He’s just a cute boy. I like his goggles.

Hey, I think you’re pretty cool, I like you a lot

Azula- Oh boy. There’s so much here to say, but she’s been analyzed to death, so I won’t go on for too long. As much as I would’ve loved to see Azula on the “good guy” team, I’m really glad she didn’t get a redemption. Not her, specifically, but more the villains in general. Zuko’s redemption was marvelous and there’s nothing that will ever top it, but if Azula had also gotten that redemption, his would’ve been downcast. It would’ve showed that anyone’s capable of a redemption and that he wasn’t special, he was just lucky to have that change of heart. Which maybe that’s still true, but at least with the ending we got, we give Zuko that spotlight. But back to Azula, she’s pretty cool, as the category would suggest. The Girl Gang (Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee) were a treat to watch and I instantly fell in love with all three of them as soon as they were introduced. Then they had to change to the Gayng once Zuko joined and I still loved all of them.

Longshot- It was super powerful when he spoke for the first time in Jet’s “death” scene. That was the first time he had said anything and he made it count. He helped show how even thought Jet is a “bad guy” at the surface level, he was still good enough of a leader and a friend for his group to stay with him in his ultimate time of need.

Suki- She’s badass. That’s about it. All parts of The Boiling Rock were my favorite episodes and they featured her pretty heavily in the back half. And I was not complaining.

Toph- Again, badass.

Aang- He’s the main character. I don’t have any super negative things to say or any super positive things to say. So he’s just here.

Kuei- I know he doesn’t do anything, like at all, but I can’t get over him and his bear.

Yue- When I started watching this show, I knew about some of the ships and I wasn’t super into it. Which was weird, because I’m always super into shipping. I wouldn’t have watched some of my favorite shows if it weren’t for the shipping aspect. But I just couldn’t get on board with it in this show. Aang and Katara felt kinda forced and weird, Sokka and Suki was alright, but I couldn’t quite get into it. But when I first saw Sokka and Yue interacting, I was enthralled. I was in love with their relationship and I thought it was so cute. I was genuinely excited to see where their relationship would go. But you know what happened next.

Mai- When I first met Mai, I loved her. She was an emo girl that just didn’t want anything to do with anything. Obviously, I still love her, but just slightly less. Something happened to her in the third season, and though I can’t pinpoint quite what, I have a feeling it was Zuko. I’m not a huge fan of Mai and Zuko’s relationship and I’ll possibly elaborate on that in a future post, but it really felt like the worst possible scenario for both of their characters. I do like Mai and Ty Lee together, but the shipping doesn’t really have anything major to do with it. She just dropped in quality a little in the third season and became a love interest instead of a character.

Kyoshi- Peace was never an option.

I remember you

Cabbage guy- This is normally the type of character I’d put at the top of the list and use as a joke to pretend like I especially enjoy the joke characters. Sometimes I do, but this list’s tone was a little different than usual, so I figured I’d put him where I really thought he should go. He was funny, sure, but I don’t religiously follow him like I do Ty Lee and everyone else in the top tier.

The other characters in this tier are in no particular order. Most of them are here just because I remember seeing them a little bit, but I don’t really remember much about them or I remember just not caring.

You are literally the worst. Actual scum. Leave this planet and never return.

Haru- This is more directed towards his newly-grown facial hair. He was so cute in his first appearance and then he had to do that. Even Sokka’s “I flirt with everyone” bisexual ass thought it was grody.

Hama- Nothing against her, personally, bloodbending’s just gross.

Zhao- He’s a typical villain. I can appreciate that, I just don’t like him.

Katara- This will take some explaining. It’s unpopular, but so is everything I say. I think of Katara in about the same way I do Allura. She was bearable in the first season, annoying in the second, and flat-out awful in the third. I understand that characters should have flaws, and I appreciate when they do, but her flaws aren’t necessarily treated as such. The worst offender I can think of with her is when she accused Sokka of not missing their mom as much as she did. This broke my heart. Seeing Sokka’s depressed face as he realized what his sister thought of him. He had been seeing her as sort of a replacement for their mom, but she accuses him of moving on without a second thought despite how much effort he puts into remembering her. This obviously isn’t the only bad thing she’s done. Another huge offender is when she assumed losing her mom was worse than Aang losing his entire nation. And then the show just keeps moving like she’s justified in thinking that. She’s done so many other things that caused other characters to halt in their development or causing the plot to just stop completely. Most of her actions are nonsensical at best and harmful at worst, but the show portrays her as always being a caring motherly figure. She does act like that at times, but we still need to acknowledge when she doesn’t.

Ozai- Literally the same as Zhao except he hurt Zuko physically AND emotionally.

#bullshittierlists #atla #avatar the last airbender #was a little confused why I wasn’t getting any notes and then I realized I didn’t leave any tags #sorry to everyone who likes Katara #but it needed to be said #tier lists #ty lee

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years

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Marvel Movie Night: X-Men The Last Stand

So - when this came out, I worked at a theater. We got to see an early screening of it. When we walked my mom turned to me and said -- that wasn’t good, right? I had to agree.

So. Here we are. I feel like I have a very complicated relationship with this film, because I know a crap ton about X-Men and knowing more means this film feels like even more of a mess than maybe a general audience would know. It’s hard to really comment on whether or not this is a good film. It’s definitely far more watchable than the Fantastic Four, or the other Marvel related films coming out at the time that weren’t Spider-Man. However, it doesn’t hold together too well overall.

The biggest issue this film has is that it’s trying to shove too many story lines with too many mutants into one film, and it kind of fails at everything that it’s trying to do.

But first - a comment on production. It was kind of a mess (though, I’m super fascinated that there was an original draft of this that Emma Frost played by Sigourney Weaver. Damn, I’m sad we didn’t get that). Directors switched, writers switched, actors were no longer under contract -- and I mean, most productions have things change, but all of this resulted in this film getting pulled in fifteen different directions, and I do thing that did have an effect on the final result.

So - let’s talk about what this film is trying to do.

The Dark Phoenix saga. One of the most iconic X-Men stories ever told, and it is for a reason. Having just reread it last month, it’s egregious to me how much this movie misses the point. Look - I’m fine, in general, when other media changes original stories for adaptations. Film is not comics, but I do think you need to understand the essence of the story in order to do it well in an adaptation. And The Last Stand just doesn’t understand the Phoenix story.

See - in the comics, it’s a lot about manipulation, control, and power - and how Jean Grey is being manipulated, but breaks out of it with her extreme power. (There’s also a ton about crazy space forces, but I understand why they didn’t go there, it’s... uber complicated.) But, the point is that this ends up being an internal story -- how Jean deals with the power once she’s broken free from the manipulation, how how her relationships with various X-Men help her cope with split identity. At the end -- with her friends behind her, she decides to end her own life, and her sacrifice is make sure she doesn’t destroy the universe. And it’s very beautifully told.

There are three things (major) things I have issue with in this film -- 1. With the exception of Cyclops, in a limited role, and slightly Xavier, Jean’s relationships with other people are just not explored enough to have an emotional impact; 2. At no point is Jean ever back in control of her own agency. Xavier manipulates her, then Magneto, then she just stands around for a long time until Wolverine finally kills her. It cheapens everything about Jean Grey and agency the original story has, and I hate it. 3. The story in the movie seems to service the goddamn Logan/Jean Grey love story that I hate in the comics, and I hate it more here - but I’ll spare you the diatribe.

The other thing, though... The animated series got this right -- but it could because it had time to. See, the comics drew this whole story out for years, and it’s emotional pay off works better over a long period of time, which a two hour movie just doesn’t have. And it’s especially hurt when it’s truncated due to a whole other plot in the film. Which leads me to...

The Cure - the second plot of the film. Joss Whedon’s Astonishing X-Men at the time was a big hit, so they decided to use this story. It’s not a bad story -- it has to do with the big political element that the X-Men always are dealing with, and that’s fine. But, because it can’t be the full focus, it too feels overstuffed. (Really the film wants to be this plot, and should have never done Dark Phoenix in the first place.)

Unfortunately, because they need to shoehorn in Magneto, the brotherhood, the Morlocks, and every other mutant in the X-Universe (except Gambit for some reason) - this turns into a mess, where Magneto is his Silver Age, scenery chewing self, and a whole lot of people punch each other because that’s what these third acts usually devolve into. The Cure story line is and can be a much smaller story, too, and maybe works better as such, but this is a major blockbuster - which I’m sure studio mandates a certain amount of CGI nonsense. Ah well.

Other Thoughts (dear god, get ready for all the thoughts!):

The Danger Room scene at the beginning of the film is a goddamn delight -- that is how you use the X-Men working as a team, and that’s how you use Wolverine in a good capacity.

One thing I’ll credit this film - it does better with its action sequences, and specifically letting the X-Men actually work as a team.

I can’t help but feel, though, that I wish more of the classic X-Men teams had been together for their last stand. Something about Wolverine’s little pep talk felt hollow - maybe because these characters we’ve barely met and/or interacted with and the emotional resonance isn’t there.

FWIW - the special effects in this film are such an upgrade than all the crud had has come before it -- especially Fantastic Four, which was only a year or so earlier.

Hugh Jackman has finally really settled in his role as Wolverine, he’s great, yadda, yadda

Famke Janssen continues to be an excellent Jean Grey, and I’m sorry her story line stunk so badly. The scene with her and Wolverine, where she goes through the gamut of emotions, is really quite wonderful. It’s a shame she spends half the movie just standing (or sitting) there.

I understand that James Marsden kind of tapped out of the franchise to go do Superman, but I’m so sad that they really didn’t do Cyclops well in any of these films. He’s such a great character, and you wouldn’t know it at all by these films.

The Beast! Who’d have thought that Kelsey Grammer would have been a good choice for Beast -- but it works.

I think Halle Berry asked for more to do as Storm. Well -- she has more to do, but she still doesn’t feel like Storm. I want an X-Men film where she Ororo Monrue is given the proper chance to shine.

Oh - I should mention Storm vs Callisto is a thing here, as an easter egg to long time fans, but it’s not satisfying to me as a long time fan because, like, most everything in this film, they kind of fucked it up.

Meanwhile... oh Rogue, maybe we shouldn’t get me started on how my favorite X-Man is the utter worst in this film. Not only is she barely in this film but... this is such a complicated issue for this character -- to be given five minutes of screen time is just the utter worst. And no, Rogue would never do that. No, no, no.

Ellen Page as Kitty Pryde is amazing, and she should have had her own movie. I find it hilarious, though, that she and Iceman kinda flirt with each other here -- since Iceman is canonically gay, and Kitty is subtextually bi. It’s just... funny.

Iceman - in his ice form. Yes, more of this.

Angel is here! He literally does nothing, but he doesn’t do much in the comics either, so it kinda hilariously works. I like the actor, too, he’s a great match.

The dude playing Colossus is a delight - again, more screen time needed! I kinda love that he’s just carrying around a TV to show his strength.

Lord help me - the Juggernaut is the worst. I hated that meme. I hate that he looks like a literal dick head. I hate that he’s portrayed as a mutant when he’s not, etc, etc.

There’s so much more to comment on, but I’ll spare you the time -- I mean there’s Moira MacTaggart, and the Morlocks - who are also the Omega Gang?, and Leech, and Eric Dane playing Multiple Man, and really... they brought in Stacey X (you guys ask me about Stacey X...), and apparently Psylocke is supposed to be in here somewhere, and sentinel camoes, and Trask, and Mystique... But, this review is long enough.

I do need to point out - the President is played by Josef Somer, who played Ducksworth in The Mighty Ducks, and I can only think of ‘quacking’ whenever I look at him.

Final Thoughts: It’s probably more enjoyable for a non-fan than a hardcore X-Man fan. It’s not as bad as people make it out to seem, but it’s not good either. Overall, there’s a lot of potential that gets squandered and exploded. Ah well.

#marvel movie nights

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aion-rsa · 5 years

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Marvel's What If: The Stories We'd Like to See

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The new animated series will show us alternate takes on the Marvel Cinematic Universe's timeline. Here are scenarios for every Marvel movie.

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This Marvel article contains spoilers.

When Disney+ hits, one of the many shows tying into the Marvel Cinematic Universe is What If, set to be on-demand in summer 2021. The show will be animated, albeit using many of the actors from the various MCU movies. Based on the What If comic series, which was created in the '70s, the anthology series has a pretty basic concept: take an important part of Marvel history, zig when the original story zagged, and then write a story out of that.

For instance, the comic had an issue where Spider-Man saw the thief who would eventually kill Uncle Ben run by and figured that stopping him would be good PR. He unknowingly saved Uncle Ben’s life in this scenario, but he didn’t learn any major lesson about power and responsibility. Instead, he became a more self-centered ass whose ego was so out of hand as a media personality that he caused a disgraced J. Jonah Jameson to found the Sinister Six as a revenge ploy.

In the case of the new animated series, the stories will be based on the movies’ continuity. So far, we know that one of them will be about Agent Carter receiving the super-soldier serum treatment instead of Steve Rogers.

That got me thinking about what other stories we can get from the movies. I’ve decided to take every Marvel movie and brainstorm a What If scenario that would work for each. Play along at home! It’s fun!

IRON MAN

What If Tony Stark Died?

The story of the movie ends where it should have begun. Tony Stark and his military entourage are under attack and a bomb goes off near Stark. The shrapnel cuts too close to his heart and there’s nothing that can be done. Obadiah Stane takes over the company. Maybe Pepper, Happy, and/or Rhodey investigate and take him down. Maybe not.

What’s important is that Iron Man can no longer be the focal point of the MCU. Presumably, things are going to get really, really bad. Especially with that time the High Council tried to nuke New York City. Then again, greedy as he is, Stane would be on Earth’s side during that conflict and could probably at least lend some kind of hand.

In a world without Stark, I can’t help but think of what all those villains created BECAUSE of Stark would be like. Imagine Loki conquering Earth and being undone by the likes of Stane, Vanko, Killian, Vulture, and Mysterio. Not Hammer, though. He’d still be a total weasel and would try to betray them at the first attempt.

INCREDIBLE HULK

What If Abomination Joined the Avengers?

A plot thread the MCU movies played with briefly before writing it off in a Blu-ray short was the idea of The Incredible Hulk's Emil Blonsky being roped into joining the Avengers. Obviously, he ended up getting nixed because he kind of went on a big rampage through Harlem, but maybe if things went down differently, he would be found less accountable...at least in the beginning.

Before Bruce Banner gets his treatment from Sterns, he might find out about all the horrible experiments he was working on and that would set off the Hulk. A surviving Sterns would still gladly transform Blonsky, only this time Blonsky would be seen as a hero for putting his body on the line so he can bring down the Hulk. With the military behind him, he’s able to win and keeps his dark side in check enough that he’s able to work with the government and be their personal weapon of mass destruction.

The way I see it, this could go very wrong during the events of Avengers. The team is going to be at each other’s throats as is, but in the original version, they were still good people. When there’s a psychopath in the midst, this can only end badly.

Poor Cap, finding out that this guy is his legacy.

IRON MAN 2

What If Iron Man Wanted to Avenge His Father?

When in doubt, go with the Soviet-controlled alternate reality. Worked for Superman and Valiant Comics. It would certainly work for Iron Man 2.

In this scenario, Anton Vanko is able to keep his intentions to himself long enough to screw over Howard Stark, bring the arc reactor schematics to the Motherland, and reap the rewards. Ivan lives a life of luxury while Howard Stark becomes a disgraced figure in the American public’s eye, ultimately destroying himself through alcoholism.

This leads to a story where Tony Stark figures out his father's tech in order to wage a war against the Vankos for destroying his family. Add in Justin Hammer as his weasely sidekick and you got a stew going.

THOR

What If Loki Allowed Thor to Be King?

Loki was the first real “villain who was in the right, but went about it the wrong way” of the MCU. At least in the first act. One of the better parts of Thor was that, in the beginning, Thor was a big jerk and Loki was well aware of this. His initial plot was the save Asgard from having to deal with Thor in charge. Said plot gave Thor the character development needed to prove himself worthy while Loki ended up damning himself.

Loki probably could have done himself a better service if he just let it happen. When Thor runs Asgard into the ground, Loki will be there to take over and fix things. Or maybe Thor will just admit that he isn’t fit to lead and hand over the throne. Either way, the big laugh will come from someone telling Loki that if he knew Thor was going to be such a shitty king, why didn’t he do anything about it?

CAPTAIN AMERICA

What If Captain America Survived World War II?

Seems to be one of the easiest ideas. Hell, this was one of the very first issues of the What If comic and even gave us the first iteration of Bucky Barnes as Captain America. So we have Captain America defeat Red Skull in such a way that he doesn’t have to crash the plane and get frozen for a bunch of years at the end of the movie. Instead, Captain America fights through the rest of the war and we don’t have all that awkward finger-pointing that Steve gets for his Endgame epilogue.

read more: The 100 Best Marvel What If Moments

I’d like to see Cap be in the thick of Hydra’s inner-takeover of SHIELD, especially with Bucky still alive and looming in the shadows. Not only am I down for more team-ups between Steve Rogers and Howard Stark, but the idea of Cap being something of an uncle figure to Tony is too great to ignore.

THE AVENGERS

What If Loki Betrayed Thanos?

Recently, Marvel made it an official retcon that, during the events of the first Avengers movie Loki wasn’t 100% himself. Wielding the Mind Stone, he was really being manipulated by Thanos, which is their way of handwaving all the horrible stuff he did so we can more easily get behind him as a protagonist.

This reminds me of Marvel’s Earth X miniseries, which took place in a universe where all the god-type characters were really overly-evolved mutants from another planet who were endlessly powerful but were molded by the beliefs of others. In other words, all the Asgardians are scaling back their power and acting like Asgardians because when they came to Earth, that’s what humans believed them to be. Loki, being all about trickery and mischief, was the one who could see through it all and realized what he truly was.

I want that kind of energy in the Avengers storyline. I want Loki to figure out that he isn’t in full control of his actions. When Thor implores him to join him against the higher power, let Loki piece it together. The image of Loki working with the Avengers against Thanos is a cool one, but the real conflict is figuring out what to do from there. Whether or not he’s on their side, nobody’s going to trust Loki when the plan is presumably, “Let’s use these two Infinity Stones against a guy who has none.”

IRON MAN 3

What If Aldrich Killian Killed Himself?

Iron Man 3 begins with an origin for Aldrich Killian as the third most interesting character to call himself “The Mandarin.” He got to meet Tony Stark briefly at a New Years’ Eve party, Stark lied by offering to meet him on the roof later that night, and it was at midnight that Killian realized that Stark had essentially blown him off. He considered walking off the roof to his death, but was instead inspired to get his shit together and start up a big arms-dealing conspiracy.

Let’s take him out of the picture. There’s no Extremis plot, no drunk actors, no Vice President getting arrested, etc. This also means that Tony doesn’t get grounded. Part of the conclusion of Iron Man 3 is that Tony is able to grow up and move on in a sense.

People often criticize the MCU for ways it's walked back Tony's growth over the years, though. Tony’s attempt to move forward blows up in his face with Ultron, and thanks to his addictive personality, he can’t help but go back to his Iron Man ways and briefly kill his relationship with Pepper. Even in Endgame, he struggles with what kind of man he should be.

Perhaps the lack of Iron Man 3 would hinder his journey in the long run. He doesn’t blow up his armor or get his arc reactor removed. He keeps being as reckless and dedicated as he’s ever been. It costs him his relationships, but does the ends justify the means? How far can a driven Stark go, exactly?

THOR: THE DARK WORLD

What If Jane Foster Discovered Her Worthiness Earlier?

Granted, we don’t know the context of Jane Foster becoming the new Thor in Thor: Love and Thunder, but it’s going to happen in the upcoming movie, it’s happened in the comics, and it even happened in one of the first What If comic issues. Thor: The Dark World is one of the least exciting MCU entries and Natalie Portman peaced out due to how they handled her character, so let’s jump ahead to the Jane-Thor development.

read more: Thor: Love and Thunder - Jane Foster as Thor Explained

Jane’s already in Asgard for the underdeveloped Meet the Parents concept, so the setting is right. Maybe have her wield Mjolnir to save Frigga and see where it goes from there. I don’t know. It’s not like the villains are going to carry this story.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER

What If Nick Fury Died?

The threat from Winter Soldier is such a Gordian knot, and thanks in part to Nick Fury’s help, Hydra was defeated in a rather clean way. Take Fury out of the picture. There is no secret resurrection. He’s straight-up dead. Now there’s no finale based on releasing all the SHIELD files to the public and cutting off Hydra’s head.

Captain America and his buddies still defeat Hydra, but it’s messy. Hell, we might even get the Agents of SHIELD crew involved in this one because why not. Alexander Pierce may be killed or at least thwarted, but the story after the fact will be that Captain America is an enemy of the state, creating a variation of his Secret Avengers from Infinity War.

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY

What If Ronan Destroyed Xandar?

What If was made for this one. Guardians of the Galaxy plays up Ronan’s disdain for Thanos and the possibility of them throwing down. Early on, Nebula warns Ronan that it’s a fight that he cannot win, but is totally on his side when he’s able to wield the Power Stone. It’s promised that once Xandar is wiped out, Ronan is going to go to war with Thanos.

read more: Marvel's What If? Animated Series Coming to Disney+

A full-on villain vs. villain war would be a damn fun episode. Obviously, like an arms race, each side is going to have to try to build themselves up with more Infinity Stones, presumably making it three-on-three by the time the two throw down. Don’t know how the Soul Stone would figure into this, but depending on how close Ronan and Nebula become...PROBABLY not good for Nebula!

AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON

What If Ultron Wasn’t Corrupted?

More specifically, the question is, “Could it have worked?” The creation of Ultron was Stark’s desperate attempt to protect Earth from a threat that he knew, deep in his heart, was going to come from the skies any day now. Ultron ended up blowing up in his face and caused the Avengers to splinter prior to Thanos’ run for the Stones. Had the plan worked out, Thanos would still need to invade Earth in order to get his hands on the Mind Stone and Time Stone.

As an aside: Thor doesn't know where the Time Stone is, so I figure he'll trust the Mind Stone to remain on Earth under Stark's care because he's already established that he doesn't want to keep two in Asgard.

While the previous entry is more about two villains clashing, this one is about a war between faceless soldiers. Endless dog creatures fighting endless Ultrons or empty Iron Man armors or whatever. Win or lose, this one has the potential to cause more worldwide damage than Thanos’ casual stroll through Wakanda.

ANT-MAN

What If Hank Pym Trusted Hope?

Hank Pym doesn’t choose Scott Lang to be his successor in Ant-Man. Maybe Scott’s still in prison. Or maybe Hope is his first choice after all. Either way, he builds Hope her own Wasp costume for the sake of stopping Darren Cross. She’s hindered by her inferior cat burglar skills but ends up being a bit colder and violent when it comes to ending Cross’ plans.

The real conflict comes in Civil War. Wasp is very much on Captain America’s side, but Tony Stark tries to get through to Hank Pym on the subject. Hank begins to waver, realizing that as much as he’s hated his technology being in the government’s hands, it still might be safer than what Cross had intended. This, in turn, causes Hope to resent her father all over again as the war between heroes commences.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR

What If Quicksilver Was Alive?

This is technically more of an Age of Ultron entry, but with a focus on Civil War. Quicksilver is able to save Hawkeye’s life without sacrificing his own. It’s hard figuring out a good switch for Civil War, but including Quicksilver in the mix might be the biggest offset. The shadow of Sokovia would still be looming, but at least he'd be there to help prevent his sister from becoming a black mark on superheroes.

Not only would he help turn the tide in the airport battle, but if Pietro were to be there for the final battle, he’d possibly be able to talk Iron Man down. I mean, Tony Stark is arguably equally or more responsible for the deaths of Pietro and Wanda’s parents than Bucky was for Tony’s parents, but Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch are able to move past that. Quicksilver can fix the Avengers before Zemo is able to splinter them.

DOCTOR STRANGE

What If Doctor Strange Used Time Travel to Save Himself?

Stephen Strange takes a look at Dormammu and decides, “Nope!” He’s going to use the Time Stone to prevent the universe from being taken over, but he goes about it in a more reckless way. He rewinds time to the point that he’s able to stop Kaecilius using magic save-states, which he figures takes Dormammu off the board. Deciding that the other magic folks can carry on without him, he then attempts to prevent himself from texting while driving.

Strange continues on with his earlier life, the mega-demon is no longer a threat, and life goes on. Or does it?

Strange was warned that overusing the Time Stone would cause massive repercussions, so things would undoubtedly go very wrong for the Sorcerer Supreme. Bonus points if this relates to Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness.

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VOL. 2

What If Ego Raised Peter Quill on Earth?

Ego was never going to be anything other than a monster. Charming or not, he killed a whole lot of his own children as part of his plot to kill just about everyone else in the name of finding his purpose. His redeeming quality was that he had some true love for Meredith Quill, but he didn't love her enough to keep himself from being an outright bastard. He was afraid that his love for her would keep him from achieving his goal, so he killed her in a rather cowardly way for someone so powerful.

I want to see a world where Ego saw things through and stayed with Meredith for good. What kind of person would he have become? I imagine he would have grown old, died of natural causes, and his body would have regenerated on his planet self, presumably with second thoughts on what to do with his powers. It's not too different from the Fantastic Four storyline where they turned Galactus human for a time and showed him the beauty of normal life.

But really, I'd like to see what kind of man Peter would become. I can't imagine he'd be drawn to the stars if his mother had lived longer and he wasn't kidnapped, but cosmic adventure is in his blood. Who's to say?

SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING

What If Spider-Man Joined the Vulture?

Getting so mad at Tony Stark that you turn into a supervillain is so easy that it seems to happen every other day in the MCU. Sometimes the bad guys even have a point! Hell, Captain America disagreed with him on whether or not to allow Iron Man to blow up Steve's best friend and that caused Cap to become an enemy of the state. It makes you realize that Rhodey's ability to put up with Tony's bullshit is the most amazing superpower of them all.

So in this What If? scenario, when Iron Man strips Spider-Man of his upgrades and gives him a time out in Spider-Man: Homecoming, Peter really loses it. When he's being driven to the homecoming dance, he tells his date's father about how much of a jackass egomaniac Tony is. In this moment of bitching, Toomes sees Peter as less of a threat and more of an opportunity in the form of a kindred spirit. The two end up working together and Vulture succeeds in stealing all that swank hero stuff from Stark's plane.

At first, it's just Peter turning a blind eye to criminal activity out of spite. Just like the OTHER time that happened, it doesn't work out too well for him. Iron Man is able to figure out that Spider-Man had some kind of involvement in the act and uses the Sokovia Accords as reasoning to bring the hammer down on him. Spider-Man escapes, but Vulture dies in the process. There goes another father figure.

Spider-Man decides to prove himself against Iron Man by taking all the stolen tech that Vulture had accumulated and finding worthy people to wield it in the name of starting up an underground, street-level vigilante group.

THOR: RAGNAROK

What If Nebula Killed Thanos?

In Guardians Vol. 2, Nebula is last seen leaving to go slaughter Thanos. We don’t see her until Infinity War, where it’s shown that she failed. Her failure is what helps Thanos realize that Gamora knows where the Soul Stone is and he goes on his rush to get all the Infinity Stones. Let’s just say that Nebula succeeds and kills her adopted father.

Now look to the mid-credits scene from Thor: Ragnarok. Before Thanos' ship arrived, Thor and Loki had an interesting discussion about whether or not Loki can peacefully coexist with Earth’s inhabitants due to the events of Avengers. This possibility would never be explored due to Infinity War suddenly happening.

read more: 20 Uplifting Marvel What If Stories

But without Thanos? We could actually see Thor as a king who isn’t bogged down by PTSD. We can see a Hulk that isn’t at odds with himself. More importantly, we can see how Loki deals with New Asgard. Especially since he happens to have a Tesseract in his possession.

BLACK PANTHER

What If Killmonger Remained King?

Invading Wakanda and succeeding is nigh impossible. You need to have the Infinity Stones or the Phoenix Force to make it happen or else you're going to end up like the Skrulls that one time -- a pile of bodies sent back to space with the message, "THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU INVADE WAKANDA," written in blood. This is one of those stories.

Killmonger is an angry hypocrite with no foresight. His plan to arm the underdogs of the world will do nothing but create chaos and untold casualties. It won't take long for Wakanda to become a major target. Rather than throw every superhero at the nation, Iron Man goes alone because he thinks his tech know-how could counter that of Wakanda's. While this is going on, Captain America chooses to go on a one-man mission to take down Killmonger after hearing that Bucky has been killed.

The good news is that Cap and Iron Man are able to work together and even work through their differences. The bad news is that neither survives. After such a failure, Nick Fury sends in as many heavy hitters as possible (deciding to hold off on calling in Captain Marvel), but the results are the same. Killmonger's regime stands tall, even though Wakanda is relatively worse for wear. He does find himself fascinated with the remains of Vision, especially the glowing gem on his head, and keeps his head as a trophy.

The dust has cleared and Killmonger finds himself the king of a global warzone. His victory is shortlived as Thanos and his Black Order arrive for the Stones. Before ending Killmonger's life, Thanos does give him credit for wiping out half of Earth's population before Thanos even had the chance.

AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR

What If Star-Lord Kept His Anger in Check?

One thing that annoys me is when people cite Peter Quill as the reason why Thanos was able to complete the Infinity Gauntlet. Yes, they were so close to pulling off the Gauntlet, and yes, Star-Lord losing control and punching Thanos in the face screwed that up. I get that.

Here’s the thing: Doctor Strange knew that it would happen and didn’t do anything to prevent it because apparently removing the Gauntlet would have still led to a loss. There was only one possible way things were going to work out and that was everything up to the end of Endgame. Star-Lord’s tantrum made little difference and, it’s possible to say, everyone might have been better off because of it.

What I want to know is why that would have been so bad? How would defeating Thanos in that moment have led to defeat? What kind of possible future did Doctor Strange see?

ANT-MAN AND THE WASP

What If Ant-Man Joined the Secret Avengers?

Rather than submit himself to house arrest, Scott Lang sacrifices seeing his daughter in order to hang out with Captain America, Black Widow, and Falcon for a few years. This leads to a major juggling act because he’s still going to get that weird vision from Janet, but things will be a million times easier to deal with because he doesn’t have to beat the clock with the Jimmy Woo business and he has his Avengers pals watching his back. Ghost is defeated, Janet is rescued, Hank is grumpy, and Hope has lost her respect for Scott for essentially abandoning Cassie.

Anyway, the most important thing here is that the Avengers no longer think Scott is under house arrest and are able to bring him to Wakanda and people can finally be excited to see that Thanos butt thing happen. Do it, Marvel. Do it, you cowards.

CAPTAIN MARVEL

What If Captain Marvel Killed Ronan?

Being a prequel that deals with the Kree, Captain Marvel features a couple of brief scenes that show Ronan the Accuser as one of the antagonists. As we know, decades later, he and Korath will become rogue soldiers out to exact revenge on the Xandarians. That means that in Captain Marvel, Ronan is protected by plot armor. What If features no such thing, so there’s nothing stopping Carol Danvers from simply blowing up Ronan’s ship instead of intimidating him to escape and fight another day.

As time goes on and Thanos needs villains to do his dirty work, he doesn’t have Ronan on hand. What he does have is the Mind Stone and what Captain Marvel has is a history of being susceptible to mind manipulation. Thanos ends up forcing Captain Marvel into being his enforcer and decides that he doesn’t even need Loki to begin with. Instead, Danvers razes Earth and tears through the Avengers. She also annihilates the Guardians of the Galaxy before they can even get started as a team while securing the Power Stone.

In the aftermath, a surviving Peter Quill is found in an intergalactic bar, drinking through his depression. A man appears before him, claiming to be his father, with the suggestion that maybe learning his true power for the sake of getting revenge on Captain Marvel (among...other things) is Peter’s purpose.

AVENGERS: ENDGAME

What Became of Thanos 2014’s Timeline?

As I already mentioned, Endgame is the only possible version of the movie’s events where the good guys win. Any and all tangents end with Thanos’ victory. So let’s move away from that.

Endgame’s time heist created two major alternate timelines. One is the alternate version of Avengers, where Loki escapes with the Tesseract and Hydra thinks Cap is on their side. We’ll be getting a whole Disney+ series on that reality.

The other is what’s left behind from the second Thanos. There’s a universe where Gamora, Thanos, and all of Thanos’ underlings and soldiers (minus Ronan) simply ceased to be. They all went to another timeline and never came back. Does that mean that Ego conquers reality? Does the Collector go forward with his plan to acquire all six Infinity Stones?

And what of Earth? This could go in different directions, considering a deleted concept from Endgame was that Thanos 2014 decided to tear apart his timeline’s Avengers before making the time jump. There’s a lot of potential in that episode.

SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME

What If Mysterio Was Iron Man’s Protégé?

So Quentin Beck created this world-changing hologram technology, watched his boss use it for the sake of personal therapy, make fun of it, and then call Beck out of line? Hey, Beck really shouldn’t have used the lives of a bunch of innocents to prop up his plan, but he had every right to be pissed at Tony Stark.

If television and movies have taught me anything, it’s that if you angrily insult your boss to his face, you have a 50/50 chance of either getting fired or getting a promotion. We saw the firing timeline, so let’s see what happens when Stark decides to actually listen to Beck. I imagine Beck would solidify his belief in the Sokovia Accords and take Spider-Man’s spot in Civil War. Just think about how anti-climactic that airport battle would be when Iron Man’s side ends up being a bunch of holograms and Bucky gets yoinked away in the confusion.

Beck could conceivably figure out Zemo’s plot through his tactics, but the question is how he would follow up on that. Does he step in Zemo’s way or does he agree and allow the Avengers to implode?

Gavin Jasper writes for Den of Geek and would love to see DC do an animated or live-action version of Elseworlds: Speeding Bullets. Read more of his articles here and follow him on Twitter @Gavin4L

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Aug 22, 2019

What If

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andrewmoocow · 5 years

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Fooly Falls 2 chapter 4: Mechanica Melody (originally posted on April 19, 2019)

AN: We're getting close to the end everyone! Though unfortunately just like the previous three chapters, real life might get in the way of the story, but I still really hope I can get this out during spring break. Anyway, here comes Chapter 4 to really turn this summer on its head and send everything straight down to Hell from here on out. ZKHQ D OLWWOH JLUO QRUPDOOB GRZQKHDUWHG VXGGHQOB JHWV D FKHHUIXO DFW VWDUWHG, KHU IDPLOB DQG IULHQGV WUB WR VDYH WKH GDB EXW VRRQ HYHUBWKLQJ ZLOO ORVH WKHLU ZDB.

A suddenly more cheerful Gwen began skipping down the street to the shock of passerby's who were so used to seeing a frown on her face, which was now replaced with a big goofy smile. "If you ask us, I have a feeling it must be puberty kicking in early. It can do crazy thing with your emotions!" Juan theorized while he and Jorge were being interviewed, and his brother agreed with a nod. "When we came back from the island, I was kinda freaked out by how she was acting." Wendy explained worriedly. "Last time I saw her this perky was before she got that weirdo hat of hers. But hey, at least she looks positively adorable when she's happy!" "Whoa, it's a chopper! GET TO THE CHOPPAH!" Gwen peppily exclaimed spotting a helicopter hovering over her. "The whole world is turning upside down, I can just feel it!" "I'm so pissed off, I can't stand it!" Haruko snarled in frustration stomping her foot. "And it's all because of that shitty hat!" "It's an emergency measure installed by Medical Mechanica. The change in personality is most likely a side-effect." Jinyu remarked. "Or so Jinyu, Dipper and I have guessed. We cannot know for certain, unless we can head to the source." Ford added adjusting his glasses. "What do you think, does doing this with my glasses make me look cool?" "Oh, the iron!" Gwen chirped spying the abandoned Medical Mechanica plant towering over the town. "Also known as the WORLD SMOOTHER!" "I don't know which is more bizarre, this or the mutant raccoon that moved in with Ezra & Candy." Leia commented. "Last I heard from them, Ezra didn't want to show his face in public after Bawuu murdered a baby squirrel by chopping down a tree for literally no reason." With a loud cackle, the little girl kicked down the entrance to the Mystery Shack and loudly greeted her friends. "HOW DO YOU DO FELLOW KIDS?!" she hollered. "HEEEEERE'S GWENNIE, HERE TO START THE DAY!" "As much as I like Gwen not being so down in the dumps all the time, I'm supposed to be the fun & cute twin!" Tyrone exclaimed. "That is not Gwen, I can feel it." Arnold added. "Starting today, we're all getting to the bottom of this and saving my daughter." Dipper declared. "No matter the cost." Gwen giggled in a somewhat creepy fashion while the bobble of her hat glowed dimly, to the unease of her friends while Arnold & Tyrone gazed out the window to spy on Medical Mechanica.

Later that day in the living room while a group of hippies chanted "Furi kuri, furi kura! Furi kuri, furi KURA!", Dipper begged Haruko to assist them. "Please Haruko, you have to help us here!" he shouted but the Vespa Woman had her head turned away. "Oh please, this was all Arnie's fault he didn't remove the headphones like I asked him to." she stated. "Well you're at fault as well for even touching her!" "Enough arguing you two!" Stan exclaimed beating them both with his cane. "We gotta find Gwen quick. I do not wanna know what untold madness will come from her being too happy." "Stanley is right, you're both wasting precious time that we don't have." Jinyu responded stepping into the sitting room with the rest of the crew in tow. "You know what you need to do, so do it." she declared boldly despite still wearing her maid uniform. "I think she might have a maid fetish." Ian whispered. "Medical Mechanica." the maid continued. "That is where we'll remove it." Haruko responded with a thumbs up while Dipper got excited at the thought of the madness finally ending. "And then we can chase him together." The thumbs up immediately became a thumbs down. "We don't have any more options. Although they've tried to kill us and destroy the town in the past, they're our last hope." Ford announced just as someone knocked on the door. "Can someone answer that please?" "Allow me. But if it's PETA again, I'll just say the town is outta animals for them to kill." Stan answered wheeling up the the door and answering it, discovering a man in a suit and glasses on the other side. "You must be Stanford's brother. May I come in?" "What are you, a cop?" Stanley rudely asked before attempting to slam the door on the man, but oddly enough he managed to sneak his foot through mid-shutting. "Ow." "Is that you Kanda? What brings you here?" Ford asked shoving his brother out of the way to reopen the door. "So you plan on going up against the Big M, eh?" Kanda asked stepping into the house. "Well, I think this might be a good time for me to shine." "Hark, is that you I hear Kanda?!" Haruko chirped randomly appearing between the Stan brothers. "Wait, you know each other?" Dipper exclaimed. "I suppose it's time to let the cat out of the bag." Ford sighed. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Tsukata Kanda. He's a new friend of mine that I've met in Little Asia a while back. He claims that he does have history with Haruko and-" "How badly did she emasculate you?" Dipper bluntly asked. "Maliciously." Kanda replied just as matter of factly pulling out his squirt gun. "Now as I was saying, help me help you Pines family." "Pretty sure you're saying that wrong." Mabel remarked. "Want some coffee?" she asked handing him a mug of joe. "I'd very much appreciate that Mrs. Pines." Kanda replied taking the mug before he accidentally dropped it, spilling the caffeine all over his foot. "My word, I am terribly sorry! Just a bit of a klutz, I'll help you clean up!" "No need right now sir, we've got a friend to save." Ian interrupted Tsukata. "Speaking of which, where did Gwen run off to anyway?"

"A theme park? Perhaps this could be a chance to see what it's like being a child my age." Imelda muttered gazing at a help wanted poster in her hands for a new amusement park. She was so absorbed in the poster that she didn't pay attention when she nearly bumped into Gwen drawing all over the window of an abandoned furniture store. "My word Gwen, what are you doing?!" "It's all done!" Gwen chirped in response marveling at her marker-on-glass masterpiece. Imelda contemplated the meaning of the bright colors and the bizarre imagery. "Quite impressive my friend." the second Ramirez daughter applauded her older friend. "In a single word, it's a song!" Gwen cheered twirling around. "What kind of song?" Imelda wondered. "Carmen, Beethoven, Mozart, Skrillex?" "That'sa right-o!" Gwen stated beaming. "In space, no one can hear you sing! But the stars spin and spin and they spin around and around and they sing together!" The Pines daughter ran off merrily leaving the seven-year-old to contemplate what she just said. "Song of the stars, eh? My word, the park!"

A man in a goofy vulture mascot costume watched as a helicopter lowered a new attraction for his park before him while two children ran on by. "Check it out, they're putting in a new ride!" the first youth said excitedly. "That's awesome!" the second added just as amazed. When the clock struck three, Aiko interrupted her date with a third boy to get her pay. "Time's up, now pay up." The boy complied handing Aiko an envelope that she fished through. "Nice doing business with you." she said handing the boy a statue of a bear with a fish in its mouth. "Did I just buy this?" the boy wondered as Aiko began to walk off. "Maybe. Til the next time you need my services." The helicopter pulled the tarp off its cargo unveiling a viking ship ride, to the two boys' disappointment. "It's just a viking ride." the first stated. "That's lame, let's go home." the second replied and the two walked away as Imelda ran up to the vulture. "Excuse me, are you the individual running this establishment?" "Why yes little one, my name's Tonkichi!" the proprietor of the park answered politely pulling off his costume head to meet Imelda's gaze. "I see you're here about the job opening? And at such a young age too!" "Yes. I'd like to learn about what it's like to be a child my age." Imelda responded. "Well you're just in time young lady, cause a new ride just came!" Tonkichi announced presenting to her the viking ride. "This is going to be our new main attraction!" Across town at Masurao's house, he was being confronted by Eyepatch while the remains of a certain Medical Machine was crucified behind them. "You can't find it?!" Eyepatch shouted. "Well stop acting like a child and keep looking around!" "Well I've already checked everywhere but I still can't find it!" Masurao fired back. "What the hell kinda moron would lose something as a flower pot?" Eyepatch muttered in thought. "Can't you just make another one?" his subordinate suggested. "It's a one of a kind thing made from this guy's parts." Eyepatch stated gesturing to Canti. "There's no way we can make another one, not with our technology!" "Oh man. By the way, have you seen a carved bear anywhere?" Masurao inquired. "You're such a-that's not important!" his superior growled impatiently. "What's important is the flower pot!" "I'm home homies." Aiko muttered walking into her home while her father was speaking with Eyepatch. "We're supposed to use it to monitor-" the other man began. "Yeah, I know! We're supposed to reverse the N.O current!" Aiko's dad interrupted him. His daughter got suspicious of her father's activity and listened in on the conversation. "If we hypothesize that N.O is a power that can pull objects from elsewhere, then-" "I see." Eyepatch observed. "Then it stands to reason we should reverse the direction!" Aiko immediately got suspicious and opened the door to the living room and within mere seconds, it looked completely normal. She groaned as she turned her gaze to find her dad pretending to receive boxing lessons. "What are you guys doing?" "Oh hey Aiko, welcome home!" Masurao nervously greeted his daughter while Eyepatch's jaw dropped at the sight of her. "Oh my, you're just the type! Look at those fists!" he exclaimed marveling at her hands. "You let that champion inside again?" Aiko snarked about the older man. "What do you say squirt?!" Eyepatch cried. "We could take over the world together, you'll be eating lightning and crapping thunder before you know it!" In response, Aiko just kneed him in the stomach. "She's a lot like the other one, packing a punch like a shooting star!" Eyepatch declared falling to the ground. "The neighbors keep whispering about why you're always inviting a homeless man inside!" Aiko scolded her father, who simply replied with a demure "I'm so sorry." "Your dad didn't do nuttin' wrong sweetheart! Your dad's..." Eyepatch defended before Aiko's glare made him drop his guard as well. "A champ." He then handed her a few tickets to the amusement park. "Here. Would you forgive us if I hand you these puppies?" "You're always trying to give me these comp tickets as a way to get on my good side." Aiko scoffed. "Just where the hell are you getting these anyway?" Her question made the two men stutter nervously. "I'd rather have a day pass to the Gravity Falls spa or some resort in Portland." she continued. "I know that amusement park has a new ride, but it's just a stupid viking ship." Her comment about the viking ship made the duo groan in shock. "It was installed?!" Masurao cried. "It was the viking ship? You sure?!" Eyepatch added just as horrified. "Yeah. So?" Aiko answered beginning to get confused at what they were on about. "Hey, they finally did it." the capped man muttered. "Yep, and we're all screwed." the fake champion added and they both started panting & sweating in fear. "What are you talking about?" Aiko wondered just about to close the door on them. "Oh hey Aiko, have you seen that carved bear?" Masurao asked but she was already gone.

Back with Imelda, she had taken her seat on the viking ride. "I really appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to test this out." Tonkichi said gratefully. "Thank you very much Mr. Tonkichi. Riding on theme park rides are what children my age do, correct?" Imelda asked just as the old man plugged a wire into the helmet she was wearing. "That's right little lady, plus you get extra pay." Tonkichi replied. "What for?" "Oh, just a gift for the fam." Imelda continued.

Gwen continued merrily skipping about town with a big goofy grin on her face. "A dream, a dream!" she exclaimed. "What is the reason we dream? Is it because it is called a dream?" the girl contemplated. "There are dreams when we sleep, and dreams when we're awake! We dream whether we're sleeping or awake!" While Gwen frolicked about, Jinyu spied on her from her car with Haruko, Dipper, Mabel, Stan, Ford, Kanda, Tyrone, Arnold, Ian, Leia, Juan, Jorge, Wendy & Soos alongside her. The fifteen of them silently nodded to one another. "Let's go." Jinyu commanded kickstarting the Bel-Air.

"Look here!" Jinyu stated earlier that day discussing their plan in the living room while the hippies continued harmonizing. "That hat will be quite hard to remove as it's too deep inside Gwen's head." "The reason why she's behaving in this fashion is because of the bizarre radiowaves her cap is receiving straight from Medical Mechanica." Ford added. "Bizarre radiowaves!" Haruko wearing a goofy hat that showed a checkmark & Dipper repeated in unison. "To get her back to normal, we'll have to eliminate both the receptor and transmission source." Tsukata explained further. "Our plan is to split up into groups of three, two to go inside, two staying out and one to find Gwen." "Raharu, Ian & Soos will destroy the outer antenna." Julia stated to the aforementioned trio. "You can count on us Jinyu, as long as it'll get Gwen back." Ian approved of the plan while Haruko let out a half-hearted "Aye aye." while her hat put up an X sign. "Wendy, Juan & Jorge will provide cover for us in case of any outside interference." Ford added. "As for you Arnold, you're assigned along with Tyrone & Leia to find and capture your cousin before we leave for Medical Mechanica." Arnold blushed at the thought of such an important task while Tyrone slapped a hand on his back. "Don't sweat it! This'll be a great chance for Arnold to grow as a man!" "And lastly, Dipper, Mabel & Stan shall accompany Julia, Kanda and I in infiltrating the factory." Ford finished much to Raharu's ire. "Hey, that should be my job!" she exclaimed. "There is no way we're leaving you with Gwen at all!" Dipper rebuked. "Now keep quiet, cause we got a job to do!"

Gwen continued on her merry way with a big laugh until she found a statue of Petra the Pterodactyl singing her famous song with a crudely made "free hugs" sign next to her. "I appreciate you, you appreciate me." a poor recording of a woman's voice sang. "Let's appreciate everybody." "I appreciate you too Petra!" Gwen squealed with childlike delight offering the Petra statue a hug. What she didn't know was that she was now glued to the statue and it was chained to Jinyu's Bel-Air. Tyrone appeared with a big stupid grin on his face as he held up a sign saying "Oldest trick in the book!" followed by another sign saying "What a maroon!" With a hearty meep-meep, he cued the car to pull the statue off its support and fly toward the plant. Imelda on the other hand remained at the carnival testing out the viking ride while Tonkichi watched, and she was not having a good time. "Here we go!" Tonkichi declared pressing a red button that made the boat turn upside down to her shock and displeasure. "I just realized that I've made a huge mistake!" the little girl hollered as the ride made her head grind against the machinery. "That little girl is a great sport."

At last the Bel-Air made it to the roof of the giant iron and the party immediately alighted from it to gaze at the giant handle. "Everyone know your positions?" Kanda asked the rest and they nodded their heads. "Time to go." Jinyu declared. "Yeah, but from where?" Haruko asked. "You tell me." Dipper answered. "Uhhhh..." The Pines and guitar players remained dead silent before they began to argue amongst themselves. "You two don't have a plan and you're bossing us around?!" Haruko shouted hotly. "We have to figure this out together whether you like it or not!" Jinyu replied just as angrily. "Now be useful!" "Shut up! I don't take orders from you!" Raharu snarled. "Girls girls, please. Why don't we try the easy way in and just bomb it all?" Stan offered a solution. "And risk Medical Mechanica hunting us down? That's way too risky!" Ford repealed the idea. "It may have dire consequences, but the easiest way is usually the most successful!" Mabel supported her greedy great-uncle. "That's not helping at all Mabel!" Dipper fired back. "We need to think of something using what we have!" "Good grief, sometimes I wonder why I bothered taking that call." Kanda muttered leaning against the car to light a cigarette. "We're getting nowhere at this rate." Arnold moaned in defeat. "Who knows, change can be a good thing. Maybe we can accept this new Gwen and move on like the old one never went away." Tyrone stated optimistically when he noticed something familiar behind his feet. "Hey, isn't that Aiko's flower?" "Oh, what a pretty treasure!" Gwen chirped in delight picking up the pot. "No, don't touch that! Aiko paid a very high price for it and she'd kill me if anything happened!" Juan exclaimed frantically. "Really high? REALLY HIGH!" Gwen responded tossing the pot into the air. When it landed on Arnold's head, a purple force began glowing on his forehead. "Why can't you just get it?!" Julia yelled with Haruhara's back to her. "It doesn't...it doesn't want you!" Her other half's words prompted a glare from Haruko before Dipper spoke up. "Take it from me. I've had a crush on Wendy when I was a kid and over that summer, I learned you just can't force someone to love y-what is going on?" he began to relate his own experiences with love just as Arnold's forehead began acting up and sucked him in. "OH MOTHER-" "What did you do?! Arnold!" Jinyu shouted as the portal proceeded to swallow her, Haruko and the rest of the Pines. "You're an idiot cause you do idiotic things!" Haruko added as her final words before she was consumed by the forehead as well. "Mommy!" Arnold screamed for his mother. "Dad, no!" Tyrone added just as shocked.

Elsewhere back with Masurao, he had Canti tied up in cardboard and tape. "We have to do this because it's evidence. But I do feel a bit bad." Eyepatch stated solemnly. "Yeah. Because of this guy here, we were able to make tons of progress on the research." Masurao agreed. "Or rather, with what's left of him that is." "So true." the older man sighed in mourning. "The owner of this shell isn't a living creature, at least not in our sense of the word. It's almost like a larger being stuck between creature and planet." the redhead observed. "The planet is quite big of course." Eyepatch responded with a scratch of his head. "And that's why its cycle lasts years at a time." Masurao continued before his monitors started beeping. Rushing over to them, he made a shocking discovery. "What is it?" Eyepatch asked. "It's the flower pot!" Masurao exclaimed. "You mean the one you lost?" Eyepatch snarked. "It's moving!" his subordinate realized. "And that thing only reacts to N.O!" "That means it must've opened." Eyepatch deduced. "Hopefully Tsu knows what's up." "They actually got a hold of the flower pot!" Masurao continued panicking. "And it's in reverse flow!"

Arnold stood perfectly in place with the pot in his hands while the others watched in shock over what has happened. "W-what just happened?" "They all went inside your head!" Gwen cackled merrily creeping her relatives out even more. "What happened to you sis?" Tyrone asked begging for the big sister he knew to come back. "I'm the only one between us who's supposed to be that hyper." "Only one? But I've always been like this." Tyrone's sister revealed merrily. "Always?" Tyrone answered in shock. "Then again, her aunt is Mabel Pines." Wendy snarked. "To be honest, for as long as I can remember." Gwen explained just as the car engine went off and soared to the top of the Medical Mechanica plant.

"Can you all just shut up? You're turning into a bunch of broken records at this point." Haruko complained while she, Jinyu and the Pines ascended a seemingly unending flight of stairs within the factory. "Why can't you understand?" Julia groaned in irritation. "That is not what he wants, all right?" "Ha! Funny how you think you know him so well!" Haruko scoffed ignoring her words. "I barely know a thing about the big guy myself, but like I said; you can't force someone to love you!" Dipper reiterated hauling Stan's wheelchair on his back. "Now can someone give me some help? Stan is remarkably heavy for someone so old." "Well I do care." Jinyu continued in the midst of Dipper's struggling. "If you say that again, I'm gonna kill you." Haruko threatened her. "Please you two, why not just live and let live like I said before?" Mabel tried to ease the tension between the pair of women. "Don't bother getting involved Mabel, Jinyu is objectively right because she's a morally better person." Stan cut her off. "He needs to have his freedom." Jinyu continued. "Anyone who tries to keep him tied down is my enemy. Medical Mechanica, and even you." "If I may throw my few cents into the ring, Jinyu is trying to say he just-" Ford tried to interject, but was cut off by Haruko slamming the wall. "Shut up! I'm sick of hearing you talking about him Jinyu, and I'm sick of you guys trying to take her side! When I want something, I get it!" she hissed. "I'll do what I need to make sure he sees me!" "We aren't taking sides here, you're just acting like a spoiled child just because you want bird dick!" Ford argued, immediately regretting what disgusting thing he just said. "He's right. And you're going to fail." Jinyu agreed and Raharu just hissed again. "I understand everything. I understand him. And them, and you too." "How dare you say that." Haruko eerily stated. "I will keep on saying it!" Julia declared. "You need to join me Raharu! You're me after all!" Haruko just gritted her teeth with an angry glare and turned away to adjust her goggles. "Fine." "Raharu. You finally get it!" Jinyu beamed. "Together, I know we can-" "I am gonna devour you."

The Bel-Air roared to the very top of the Medical Mechanica factory with its passengers bracing for impact. When it finally skidded to a stop, Arnold was lying down on the floor with the flower pot by his side. "Gwen? Gwen, where are you?!" he called for his cousin. "GWEEN!" As fast as he could get up, he found Gwen dancing along the edge of the handle with a calm smile on her face. "Gwen?" "Dudes, you do realize she's dancing on the brim of a very high place, right?" Soos pointed out awkwardly. "No way!" Wendy exclaimed while her daughter observed the town below. "Young lady, please get away from there this instant!" "I can see everything!" Gwen chirped excitedly gazing into the distance. "Where is the-da-discuh-my father?!" she exclaimed. "Dude, he's in his head! Did you not get the memo?!" Ian screamed dramatically pointing to Arnold's scalp. "I don't have a mother either." the girl added to everyone's shock. "G-G-Gwennie?" Wendy muttered cupping her mouth in shock. "She doesn't understand how I feel. But then again, no one does!" Gwen continued. "I'm just a complete enigma!" "I-is this her true thoughts?" Kanda observed in wonder. "If everything's destroyed, we can just start all over!" Gwen contemplated. "For one, Mommy will no longer have to worry about me, Daddy will come home, Tyrone will still be his same old self and Arnold will grow a pair! If today was an ordinary day like yesterday, that would've been oh so nice!" With a loud sigh, Gwen fell down forward and in a panic, her family rushed to rescue her. Arnold managed to cling onto her arm at the last moment before fate had other plans for him. His cousin continued giggling and performed a pirouette that switched their places, her back on solid ground & Arnold clinging onto dear life. "Someone, save me!" "No, I think you can do it manliness grasshopper!" Juan exclaimed. "Yeah! We know you can make it back by yourself! Just try as hard as you can, and if you fall that's too bad!" Jorge added, which finally made Arnold lose it. "SO WHAT, YOU'RE MORE CONCERNED ABOUT MY MANLINESS THAN MY OWN MORTALITY?! I AM LITERALLY ON THE VERGE OF DEATH HERE AND ALL YOU'RE DOING IS HAZING ME!" "Don't worry little dude, I got your back!" Ian shouted grabbing the boy's arm and pulling him back up. "There you go Arnie. Now how do you feel?" he asked Arnold. "Exhilarated and testy." Arnold replied tepidly. "And like I said, there's more to manliness than endangering the lives of others." "I don't need anything special. But the anger, the sadness, the misery, the hatred. I just don't want to think about it anymore." Gwen announced holding onto her hat with a cute smile. "And so, that's why this hat looks great!"

Inside the factory, Haruha & Julia clashed once more while the Pines struggled to find cover from their fighting. "We have to find a way out, now!" Dipper screamed lighting four cigarettes in his mouth. "Not until we discuss your recent smoking habit! Aren't you the least bit concerned about your health?!" Ford hollered back. "It helps me de-stress, get your priorities straight Ford!" the great-nephew screamed again. "Now what can we do now?!" "Stop it! Raharu!" Jinyu cried landing on the metal brain-like structure before Haruko rocketed forward with bass in hand. Ford attempted to cover for his guitar-playing friend with a few shots from the magnet gun labeled "Carry at all times! Can't be too careful" he kept in his coat, but it was too late. The Vespa Woman slammed her bat down and made the brain explode in bright colors.

Back outside, the rest of the crew were just about ready to leave without the Pines, the Vespa Woman or her other half when the ground started shaking and Gwen collapsed in pain. "Sis, no!" Tyrone cried while his older sister screamed & cried in agony while her beanie began its most violent vibration thus far. "That's not good!" Tsukata gasped before the siren went off. "That's not good at all!" Imelda remained on the viking ride screaming as it spun in high speeds. "What's going on?" Tonkichi wondered looking around the operating booth before noticing a siren going off. The helmet on Imelda's head then began to crack. "Please sweetheart, answer us!" Wendy cried for her child before she let out one last scream and the hat just popped off her head. The girl fell unconscious in her mother's warm embrace while the hat drifted to Leia's feet. "Jackpot, we got 'em off!" she cheered pulling out a lighter from her pocket. "Now let's burn this thing and close this story for good!" "I don't think we're done yet. Look!" Soos exclaimed pointing at Gwen who was now on the verge of tears. "Someone help me! I think I'm going to overflow!" she sobbed. "I'm going to overflow! I'm going to-" "What in God's name is she talking about?!" Wendy shouted at Kanda finally having enough of things. "It means she's going to release N.O energy! Brace yourselves!" the agent cautioned shielding himself from potential danger, commanding everybody else to do the same. "I'm going to overflow! I'm going to overflow!" Gwen repeated shakily and let out an even louder scream than before, causing a single blue arm to burst through her head along with Dipper, Mabel and the Stans finally escaping. "Woo, that's the second craziest headcase I've seen in my life." Stanley commented rubbing his butt. "Now what did we miss?" "The-the world is turning inside out!" Gwen sobbed once more seeing images of a gloved hand breaking free from the chains holding some creature. She was lifted up into the air before the arm grabbed her face, pulling its owner out to reveal herself as Jinyu with a firecracker in her mouth. Suddenly another red arm, no doubt belonging to Haruko, grabbed Jinyu's own face and tried to push her back down. As the conflict continued, more visions appeared of Jinyu bursting from Haruko followed by scarlet wings emerging from her head. With that, the two broke free and clashed leaving Gwen to fall from the sky. "What is even happening right now?" Tyrone asked his younger great great-uncle. "This has to be N.O!" Ford analyzed. "When we managed to get inside the factory through the channel in your sister's forehead, Jinyu made some choice words that got Raharu mad and she smacked this giant brain thing that led to us breaking out!" "Well what're you waitin' for Sixer? Shoot her down!" Stan commanded his brother snatching the magnet gun and handing it to him. Behind their backs, Gwen landed back in the Bel-Air. Masurao and Eyepatch rushed outside to see what was up. "I can't believe it! Could it be the Pirate-" Eyepatch began before he was cut off once more. "It can't be, but that power definitely is!" Masurao answered frantically. "Oh my, it's begun!" Tonkichi declared peeping out the window. Imelda just kept on screaming and reminisced on running into Gwen while she was drawing on the window. "JANE, STOP THIS CRAZY THING!" she belted out a complete non-sequitur while a bamboo shoot spawned from her head and she was sent flying off the ride toward the factory. "What do we do now?!" Tyrone asked not knowing how they will survive this. "Why the smartest thing to do in a situation like this," Stan answered before his wheelchair turned and skidded away. "NIGURENDAYO!" Stan however was stopped in his tracks when he found Gwen in Jinyu's car about to drive over the edge of the giant iron as it was tilted backward by the bamboo shoot erupting from Imelda's forehead. The bulbs on her head burst and set free a small robot that raced up the stalk. "What is going on down there?!" Dipper cried before spotting his daughter in the car about to fall off the iron and panicked. Haruko let out a mighty scream as guitars clashed. "Cut it out Raharu!" Jinyu yelled trying to talk some sense into her other half. "Shut up! And your sunglasses are lame!" Haruko howled knocking the other woman back and chasing after her. The little bamboo shoot robot spotted the Vespa Woman and stuck out its little eyeball to put up a shield. When the girl tried to attack, the shield instead gave her a shock that blew her away. "How dare you?!" "GWEEEEEN!" the other Pines screamed together chasing after the Bel-Air while it rolled down the roof of the iron. They began to form a human chain that would try and stop the car from running away but unfortunately, they crashed into a support beam while the vehicle careened off the edge and towards the ground. "Gwen, no!" Dipper cried racing off the edge even though his face was badly injured. As for the little machine, it began firing at the two guitar players while they were still fighting. "Give up Raharu!" Jinyu screamed while Ford once again attempted to fire his magnet gun at Haruko. Dipper continued to dive after his daughter when she finally came to and spotted him. "Papa, no!" Gwen quickly took her dad's hand and dragged him into the backseat with her. "I am so glad you're okay pumpkin, now we gotta save the others!" Dipper shouted preparing to take the wheel until he realized they were already mere moments from crashing. Suddenly Jinyu came soaring in and picked the vehicle up before fetching the rest from the Medical Mechanica factory. "Thank you Jinyu! You're a real lifesaver!" Stan exclaimed spotting the Jazzmaster woman lifting her sedan in the air by just a hand. "You'd better not let your guard down!" Haruko exclaimed charging even faster at Jinyu, managing to dodge the little machine firing at her along the way, and attacked in a way that made the Bel-Air fall from her grasp. "Stop it, Raharu!" "No way Lame Glasses!" Raharu hissed beating Jinyu down to the ground. "Are you okay?!" Ford exclaimed in worry before Stanley grabbed the magnet gun. "Okay, that's it!" he shouted. "Everybody but me has gotten a chance to maim her this entire story, and I'm not about to waste my chance giving her the karma she deserves!" "Stanley you idiot, give that back!" Stanford shouted trying to wrestle his makeshift weapon out of the con-artist's hands. "I NEED MY GODDAMN NICOTINE!" Dipper shrieked about to light up another one in the heat of the moment when Haruko finally grabbed the convertible and tossed it toward the little robot, ultimately destroying it and making the bamboo crumble. Smoke began billowing from the tilting factory as Jinyu returned in the nick of time to save the two families from certain doom. "I know it's great that she saved us, but what about the factory?" Ian wondered pointing back to the falling iron. "It's tipping over!" Kanda exclaimed just as Haruko returned with a vengeance and with one fell swoop, it was all over. The iron now sat perfectly on its back following an explosion. The firecracker in Jinyu's mouth fell out. And there was a large hole in her chest where she was struck. "The plant..." Eyepatch gasped. "Stood up?!" Masurao added in shock. When the Bel-Air crashed and the Pines fell out, Haruko stood atop the wreckage of the robot with Jinyu in a chokehold while her white guitar was planted in the ground. "Jinyu. No." Ford muttered in utter speechlessness. "R-Raharu..." Jinyu croaked defeatedly. "I just wanted for him to have his freedom. I love him. That's why. I want him to be free from us." "You don't get it, no." Haruko remarked coldly. "Everything has always belonged to him, right from the very beginning. His shackles and his freedom. There isn't anything in this world that doesn't belong to him. Nothing." she monologued before pulling down her goggles with a smile. "That settles it. So we're not the same after all." "I guess so." Jinyu responded hoarsely in a dignified matter. "Perhaps, you're right." "Come with me Jinyu." Haruko serenely offered her. "We can finally be together." With that, Haruko morphed into a wasplike creature, fitting her moniker as the Vespa Woman, and swallowed Jinyu whole with only her glasses left behind while everybody watched in sheer terror. When the biker morphed into her now pink-haired humanoid self, she snatched the glasses from the air and put them on with a smirk followed by an evil chuckle. When Gwen looked down on the ground to find her hat partially buried in the dirt before the woman touched down on the crashed Bel-Air. "Now, why don't you come with me as well Gwen?" Haruko offered the younger girl. Imelda burst from the wreckage to spot her siblings, father and friends facing Haruko with Jinyu nowhere in sight. "Uh, what did I miss?" "I get it. I finally understand now." Gwen announced. "I know what you want to do. And that's why," she bravely put her beanie back on. "I can't go with you!" Haruko just gazed down at the Pines girl before Stan came to her defense with ten guns attached to his wheelchair. "She's right Raharu. Either leave my family & my planet alone or else I'll make sure that when you die, you'll be all alone with no one at your funeral except me, pointing and laughing." All was silent once more and nothing would be the same ever again.

At long last, chapter 4 is completed and boy this was a big one! Not just in terms of how long it took, but in how much this changes everything. About Haruko's relationship with the Pines, about Gwen, Tyrone & Arnold's arcs and the wider universe. Join us next time for the penultimate chapter of this saga and if you'll excuse me, I've got another Gravity Falls crossover I've been sitting on for too long.

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that-shamrock-vibe · 5 years

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Movie Review: Glass

Disclaimer: Alright so I am posting this review soon after seeing the movie, I have considered whether or not to do separate reviews or just one straight up review, but I am doing two because I wanted two so I can talk exposition in this one and then the actual movie in the spoiler review.

Background:

So I usually start off these reviews with my general or initial reaction, but because this is the final part of a surprise 19 year-long trilogy and I have never talked about the first two movies, I wanted to give my insight to both Unbreakable and Split.

Until Split came out, I knew nothing of Unbreakable. M. Night Shyamalan has always been a director whose movies I’ve been deterred from based on what people say about his movies in general. I have seen The Sixth Sense and I believe that is it and the only reason I’ve seen that is because it was on during English classes at school. But after the internet went crazy with fanboys who liked Unbreakable and thus cottoned on to that superb twist at the end of Split with Bruce Willis’ David Dunn appearing in a diner and Mr. Glass being mentioned, dubbing that twist the greatest Shyamalan twist since The Sixth Sense which is the movie that directly preceded Unbreakable and incidentally all three movies involved Bruce Willis, I became at least savvy to what the movie was.

I thought Unbreakable was a good movie, my verdict of these movies in chronological order goes good, excellent then great. I rarely like or see Bruce Willis in anything but for me he wasn’t the star of the movie, that was Samuel L. Jackson as Mr. Glass. But I enjoyed the whole cast, Willis was good, Spencer Trent Clark was a standout for me as he is here. The movie was a great apparent origin story which turned out to be a good first act in Shyamalan’s trilogy.

Incidentally, this past week is the first time I have seen both Unbreakable and Split. I was interested in Split when it was advertised, I just never got around to seeing it because I was at university and at the time trying to take interest in my psychology course.

Seeing Split this week, it is the hallmark of why I love psychology. I really enjoyed this movie and I do believe it’s not a great thing to do so because I enjoy it for the fact that I love the psychological horror angle rather than the movie overall but I can’t help it. James McAvoy, like Samuel L. Jackson, is an actor I will watch a film for and enjoy their parts no matter what I think of the movie. I just loved the tension, the “alters”, the way James McAvoy acted each one out from comedic to horrific, even Casey was great. All these movies have good supporting players.

General Reaction:

So I was geared up ready to enjoy this final chapter in, what has been dubbed the Eastline #177 trilogy which I feel is as stupid a trilogy name as the Cornetto trilogy but I digress. Maybe because I haven’t been burned multiple Shyamalan movies I haven’t become more wary, but I was prepared for something to go wrong in this movie...and oh boy did something go wrong!

As well acted and structured as the first half of this movie is, it falls apart as equally badly in the second half and I know the moment it does for me which I will go into in my spoiler review. But much like the majority of the DCEU, Glass fails to stick its landing with as good of a third-act as the rest of the movie, a reason why I will continue to say Aquaman is a better movie than Black Panther despite Black Panther being my favourite movie of last year because not only is it the only DCEU movie to stick its landing but Black Panther does not.

As a newcomer to Shyamalan’s method, I believe I have discovered his problem. Shyamalan is an ideas man but his problem is he lets his mind get away from him and doesn’t know how to follow through on these ideas. As such he never knows how to end a story or follow-through on previous teased plot points. There are multiple seeds dropped throughout both Unbreakable and Split that are either never fully realized in Glass or aren’t teased fully so the payoff isn’t as good.

Also, Shyamalan’s now famous plot twists (there are multiple) both set up something that could have been teased in a post-credits scene but there are none and also reveals something that needed more exposition either in a previous movie or this one.

I still am saying this is a worth-while movie to see as both closure for the trilogy and also for the characters, but also it something that needs to be seen because for better or worse it is a "water cooler” movie. Everybody will be talking about this movie as my screen was when they were leaving the cinema, some were talking about the good, some were talking about the bad but everyone was talking about the movie.

My reasoning for having faith in this movie and trilogy is because I love comic-book movies and, for all his faults, M. Night has created a comic-book movie trilogy that is not in the universes of DC or Marvel, that isn’t based on decades of mythos and purely relies on dissecting the psychology of comic-book readers and structures. That to me puts these movies on a type of pedestal that while I do not believe they are spectacular in the story-telling department, but for what they try to achieve I hold them in high regard.

Cast:

Much like the other two movies, the standout characters are three main characters, But the order of brilliance does go McAvoy, then Jackson somewhere around the middle and then Willis unfortunately is at the bottom of that spectrum because, as underdeveloped as he was in his origin story, he is not that much more developed here. McAvoy and Jackson both remain at the brilliant levels they were at in the movies they were in before if not plussing themselves in places.

I am sure Sarah Paulson’s character Dr. Ellie Staple was created as an in-movie representation of M Night’s mind, despite the fact that M. Night himself appears in this movie playing the same guy he played in Split and I am guessing Unbreakable as the movie does try to link the two characters...not a spoiler really because it is more a cameo.

The returning trio of supporting characters are as brilliant as they were before, for me Spencer Trent Clark as Dunn’s son Joseph is as good here as he was then but he has definitely matured as an actor.

There aren’t really many more characters of interest other than minor characters but they’re all okay for the roles they were assigned to.

Recommendation:

So yeah, Glass is going to disappoint a lot of people, especially those highly anticipating the conclusion to this story. However, this is definitely a movie to see even if you end up hating it because among the rubble that is M. Night’s mind, there are some gems to be found here.

#glass #unbreakable #split #m. night shyamalan #james mcavoy #bruce willis #samuel l jackson

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sickdaysofficial · 6 years

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Cracks in the surface

A story by xxx-cat-xxx.

Submitted for 12th of August, Bodily Fluids

Fandom: Marvel

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Tony is badly injured on a mission with only Peter there to take care of him.

Tags/Warnings: Injury, blood, vomiting, a bit of PTSD and anxiety.

———-

When Peter had wished for an adventurous weekend, he definitely hadn´t meant it in a way that included a building collapsing on him.

Everything happened awfully fast. One minute he and Tony were duelling a pair of rather stupid criminals in a broken-down office building at the edge of the city, which was fun, all considered. Nat was somewhere outside chasing a third guy that had managed to escape. The next moment one of the suspects fired a blast at Tony that was deflected by his armour and instead hit the ceiling, and then everything dissolved into noisiness and rubble.

When the dust had settled, the first thing Peter noticed was that his ear-piece was missing. Then he realized that he was buried chest-deep in a heap of rubble.

“Mr Stark?” he shouted as loud as he could, the dusty air making him cough. “Mr Stark, are you there?”

The response came late and somewhat slurred, but Peter attributed this to the blood still rushing in his ears.

"What happened, kid? You injured?“

"No, I´m okay, just pretty sore….” Peter was already making his way out of the mess, looking around for his mentor.

"So, Parker, to continue with our afternoon lesson of fight strategies,” Tony´s voice said from the far corner of the room, “this is a perfect example of what you should try to avoid. Don´t let a building drop on you…just don´t…” He broke off coughing.

"Mr Stark, are you alright?“ Peter asked, walking towards him as fast as he could, aware of the deep cracks in the floor that were growing with each of his steps.

"Don´t worry kid, just a scratch. Might´a hit my head, though. Believe it or not, I´m actually glad that I took you out for a Kindergarden trip today. I´m kinda stuck here, to be honest. Looks like Friday decided to break up with me today of all days. I´m completely out of charge. You don´t happen to have a working communication device, do you?”

“No, it got lost in the crash….”

Peter frowned as the Iron Man armour came into view, most of it buried under what looked like at least half of a story. He started to remove the pieces of debris and worriedly bit his cheek when he saw what was lying below. The suit had taken heavy hits. The faceplate was bent beyond repair, and when Tony tried to remove it while Peter was shifting the last pieces of rubble, he couldn´t help but realize that the older man´s fingers were trembling. When he had finally managed to get rid of the plate, Tony´s face came into view, heavily bruised and definitely a few shades paler than usually.

"Mr Stark, what happened? You really don´t look fine.“

Instead of a reply, Tony yanked the helmet from his sweaty curls with a curse, ripped something out of it and started to chew on it.

“You - you are eating your tech?” Peter asks incredulously. Was this a sign of concussion?

“Sure kid. You know, I’m about to turn into a cyborg so that we can contact the mothership to beam us up,” Tony said between trying to crash whatever was in his mouth with his teeth. Peter just stared at him.

“No, genius, I am trying to access the communicator to get us help.“

Something in his mouth gave and audible crack and he smiled, though it quickly turned into a grimace.

“Ah, here we have the little baby,” he said, spitting out a mess of wires and metal. He connected the pieces to some cables sticking from his suit, causing a few sparks to singe the hairs on his forearm.

“I knew you had some reserves stored somewhere, old friend…”, he said while absent-mindedly patting the armour.

It took only a few minutes and an admiring glance by Peter till the device came alive with static.

“-you can… me…Tony? Pet…“

It was extremely distorted, but it was Nat´s voice.

“Hey, Romanov, you good?”

“Stark? God, what took you so long?”

“Ya, got a little tech problem here. Where are the suspects?”

“Mine is straight on his way to jail. Can´t locate the others right now, but since they were in the building when it collapsed, I doubt they made it far.”

“One thing less to worry about… Listen, I´m running on some pretty volatile current right now, and I don´t know how much longer this thing´s gonna work. We’re trapped in the eighth floor, West side, the office with the largest window front – “

“Figured that, genius, I saw the building coming down on you. The problem is, it will take a butterfly coughing and the whole thing´s going to collapse for good. I’m not joking here. Just try to literally not move from your position or you might bring everything down. Nobody´s allowed to enter right now, but we’ll figure out a way to get you outta there. Just give us some time.” Then, after some more static: “The kid’s alright?”

“I’m good,” Peter cut in, “but Mr Stark is-“

“Okay dokey, we’ll make ourselved comfortable,” Tony cut him off “See you in a-“

“Hello? Stark, you there? Shit, I think I lost you-”

There was a loud crackle of static, and then no noise at all.

———-

“I´m never going to eat canned seafood ever again. What an awful feeling to be peeled out of a metal box.” Tony complained while trying in vain to remove the shoulder piece of his armour. He had been talking even more than usual, and Peter had been wondering what he was trying to distract him from. He kneeled down to help Tony with the armour when he noticed something wet soaking the fabric of his jeans. He looked down and nearly jumped at what he saw. There was blood on the ground, lots of it. He traced it back to its origin and discovered a metal shard, at least as long as his forearm, halfway concealed by the rubble, that had pierced deeply into Tony´s body just at the height of his hips. It must have come down with an incredible force, considering that it had managed to penetrate the armour.

“Mr Stark, there’s a hole in your side!” he gasped.

Tony tried and failed to act surprised. “Oh fuck, did it cut my armour? It’s gonna take a week to fix the circuits, dammit.” His voice was shaking, sweat beading his brow despite the coldness of the air.

“This is what you’re worried about right now? Your suit?”

“Can we at least pretend that my distraction tactics work on you?”

Peter just looked at him.

“No? Fine.” Tony sighed, clenching his jaw. “Then get this piece of metal out of here before it turns rusty.”

Peter bent closer to inspect the way the shard was pierced into Tony, but all he could see was blood, way too much of it. He could feel panic rising in his throat, the reality of it all crushing down on him. He had wanted real missions, adventures, but not this. He wanted to be an Avenger, and he did know that this involved seeing people get hurt. But it wasn´t supposed to be the people on his side, and definitely not the one person whose guidance he relied most on. He wasn´t made for this, for pulling a metal shard out of the man who had always seemed invulnerably to him - it was Mr Stark, after all, and he just couldn´t bleed out here in front of him -

“Pete, breathe. Just breathe, come on. You can do that, it´s not so hard, I promise.”

He tried, but he felt like the oxygen wasn´t reaching his brain. Black spots were appearing at the edge of his vision.

“Spiderman! Look at me!”

The sharpness of the voice pulled him out of it. He glanced at Tony´s brown eyes that were radiating confidence, but he couldn´t help to notice the pain set in the wrinkles around them. He realized that both of them were shaking. Iron Man needed help, what was he doing sitting here and panicking?

“I- I´m so sorry, I-“

"It´s alright kid. Happens to the best of us, believe me. Just calm down and then give me a hand here, will ya? I kinda think I really shouldn´t lose any more blood, or we´ll start attracting vampires….” he trailed off, face rigid from the pain he was trying not to let show.

“Okay.” Peter breathed. “Okay, what exactly should I do?”

“Just remove that damn thing. Try to do it in one go, if you can. If I pass out-“

"You´re gonna pass out?” his voice was an octave higher than usually.

“Of course I won´t do it intentionally, idiot. But if I do, just stem the blood flow, I don´t wanna end up like a god-damn Jack the Ripper victim…

Peter took a deep breathe. He tried to steady his hands, and then gripped the shard and pulled. The metal piece came out with a wet and ugly noise that nearly made Peter gag. Tony was desperately trying to keep blank expression on, but then his face screwed up in agony and he let out a whimper that turned into a gasp when the pain hit fully. The amount of blood flowing from the wound increased rapidly, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“No, no, no,” Peter whispered frantically, “Stay here, Mr Stark, please.”

“Don’ worry,” Tony mumbled, his eyelids fluttering, “You´re not getting rid of me that easily.”

———-

“Mr Stark?”

There was no reply. Tony was lying on the ground where Peter had tried to make him comfortable, his arm cradling the injured side that was now covered with a makeshift bandage from the button-down he´d been wearing above his T-shirt.

He looked like a wreck, and not only because he was drenched in blood and dust. Everything about him was radiating a deep-bone exhaustion, and he suddenly looked years older than usually, vulnerable and tired in a way Peter had never seen before. The dark shadows under his eyes were definitely not just a result of today´s unfortunate episode, but suggested that the last time Tony had gotten a full night´s sleep lay a long time back.

And Peter could understand why. Eyes shut tight against the pain, Tony´s pupils were moving frantically behind his eyelids, his lips forming unintelligible words that could only belong to a nightmare. Peter had tried to cover him with parts of the room´s original carpet, but Tony was still shivering hard, the blood loss taking its toll. He shifted a little and moaned quietly, something he would never allow himself in front of Peter in a less-delirious non-concussed state. Peter had been debating whether or not to wake him up, but he knew that Tony definitely wouldn´t want him to witness one of his PTSD dreams.

“Mr Stark?” He prompted again. Tony stirred.

“Yinsen? No, don’t…” His eyes were darting across the rooms, his whole body tense and ready to fight.

“No, it´s – it´s Peter. Who on earth is Yinsen?”

“Huh?” Tony´s confused gaze found the boy, settled on him. “Where…?”

“We’re trapped in a building, Mr Stark, part of it fell on top of you. You got hurt and I think you have a concussion, you’re pretty out of it.”

“Well, that explains why I feel like puking all the time…” His eyes drifted close.

“No, please, I´m not supposed to let you sleep!”

Tony glanced at Peter again, seeming a little more lucid this time.

“Who told you that?”

“You, last time I got hit by that guy in the bee costume.”

“Well, that was valid for you, boy, not for me.” Peter was happy to have him talking, even if it was nonsense.

“And why is that?”

“Because I say so.” Tony sighed. He started to inspect himself, pushing the makeshift-blanket aside and frowning at what he discovered beneath.

“You know you aren’t making sense, right?”

“You know that you are a smart-ass?”

Tony coughed, and a few spots of blood appeared on the bandage. Peter swallowed nervously. If help didn´t come soon…Then they heard a faint rumbling from the heap of debris piled up where the windows were supposed to be. Peter desperately wished for it to be someone who had come to rescue them, not a sign of the house going down for good.

He looked at Tony, who was now pulling himself up on the wall, apparently trying to stand. Once he had reached a sitting position, his face paled even further, and he sagged against the wall.

“Give me some privacy, kid”, he groaned, before suddenly turning to the side with a wince and heaving remainders of his breakfast onto the broken floor.

“God,” he gasped and wiped his mouth, but more came up, and he seemed about to lose his balance. Peter was there in an instant, supporting him while the man was retching miserably, one hand pressed to the injured side and his face grimacing from the pain.

“This… sucks…,” he managed when he was finally done, and Peter could only agree. Tony was shivering hard under his hands.

“Let´s get you lying down?”, he suggested, unsure of how to help.

“Just…give me a moment, kid.” Tony panted, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. He was still trying to get his nausea under control when the pile of debris at the other side of the room burst with a loud explosion that made both of them jump.

“What a glorious sight!” Nat shouted at them from the open door of a helicopter that was hovering outside what had once been a window. The afternoon sun that gleamed behind her gave her an otherworldly appearance. There was a cut on her cheek and her hair looked like she had just fallen out of her bed, but else she seemed unharmed.

“You definitely know how to make an entrance, Widow” Tony grinned weakly. “But we really need to work on your timing. What took you so long?”

“Told you, the building´s unstable as fuck. Took us ages to figure out how to blow a hole into it without everything collapsing immediately. Ok, no time for small-talk. I´m gonna throw these harnesses over to your side, they are meant to secure you in case you fall. You wear them and then you slowly walk over here, one by one. Is that clear?”

“Don´t you think you´re exaggerating?” Peter intermitted, scared at the thought of Tony having to walk unsupported. “I mean, there´s a few cracks in the floor, but it should be fine, right?”

“Pete, the ground you are standing on is literally being held by a single glass window front one floor below. Trust me if I tell you that you don’t want to try your luck.”

“Which luck is she talking about?” Tony mumbled, then looked at Peter who was already wearing the harness and had started to pull Tony upright.

The mere act of wearing the thing left Tony breathless and dizzy, Peter could tell from the way he was swaying lightly and clinging to him for support. He bit his lip in worry.

“Go slowly, ok?”, he told him, “Just try not to faint.”

Tony ignored him. “You go first, kid.”

“No, Mr Stark! You´re injured, you – “ Tony cut him off with a glance that managed to be intimidating despite the fact that he could barely keep himself upright.

“Peter, this is non-debatable. You can argue about this as long as you want, I´m not gonna change my mind. But time is kind of a critical factor right now, so please, just get moving.”

Peter gave the slumped figure a last concerned look, then proceeded to cross the room as fast as he could, willing his weight to actually equal that of a spider for once. He made it to the helicopter unharmed, but some of the cracks in the floor had started to spread, and he could practically feel the structure shaking.

“Mr Stark, your turn!”, he called as soon as Nat had pulled him into the vehicle. Tony didn´t acknowledge him, but started to drag himself into their direction, heavily leaning onto the wall for support.

“What´s wrong with him?” Nat asked when Tony stopped after a few steps and hunched over, gagging into the dirt.

Peter replied without turning his eyes away even for a second.

“He got hit by, like, half a floor or something. A metal shard cut open his whole side, and I think he´s got a concussion.” he informed her, trying not to let his voice shake.

“Oh.” Nat said, carefully taking in the man who was now upright again, moving towards them with painfully slow steps, and then “Looks pretty bad.”

Peter agreed silently. Tony had nearly made it, but he was swaying dangerously now, blood trickling down from his side and marking his walk over the ever-growing cracks in the floor. The way he was desperately trying to remain upright was agonizing to watch, and Peter didn´t even want to imagine how it must be feeling.

“Come on, Mr Stark, just a few more steps, you are nearly there!”

Tony looked at him for a second, panic written all over his face, and Peter´s spidey senses went into overload when a part of the floor broke away under his legs, causing him to collapse into a heap. It was enough to break the delicate balance of the building, and the whole thing seemed to give a moan when it started to crash down.

Peter saw it happening in as if in slow motion, and he had a split second to take a decision. Webbing himself to the ceiling of the helicopter, he swung out of its open door, Nat´s protest lost in the noise of the blood pounding in his ears. He caught Tony just when the rest of the floor under him carved in, grabbed him tight and maneuvered them back to the vehicle. Not a second too early, the whole building was coming down for good now. He landed hard, prompting a whimper from Tony, and just sat there for a few seconds while the helicopter gained speed, waiting for his adrenaline rush to die down.

“Dramatic last-second rescue,” Natasha smirked and pulled Peter up, “kind of reminds me of someone else… What did you teach him, Iron Man?” she teased while supporting Tony towards one of the helicopter´s seats.

But Tony was so out of it that he couldn´t even muster a grin, apparently having used up all his strength during the past few minutes. When she deposited him into a seat, he gagged weakly, not even bothering to lean forward, and brought up a slim stream of vomit that mixed with the blood on his shirt. His head rolled limply to the side, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead.

“Hold tight, Stark, it´s less than ten minutes to the hospital. Just don´t pass out on us yet”. Nat urged, already fiddling with a first-aid box she had taken from under the seat.

But Peter knew that wasn´t what was happening. He recognized the fear and fogginess in the older man´s eyes just before he shut them close, and he could feel that his breathing speed had doubled. He rested a hand on Tony´s shoulder, who flinched away.

“Mr Stark, it´s me, Peter. We´re save, we´re in a helicopter, it´s all good now.”

Peter´s fingers found Tony´s, squeezed them tight to make him understand that this was reality. He knew that in any situation other than this, it would be a clear overstepping of boundaries, but right now he didn´t care. Tony needed to know that he wasn´t alone in this world full of agony. Whatever the noise of the rotor blades and the movement of the helicopter were leading him to believe was happening, Peter was determined not to let him go through on his own.

He pressed his hand, and Tony didn´t pull it back. Instead, after a minute, his breathing slowed down, and he opened his eyes a tiny bit, taking in Peter, acknowledging his presence. And when he whispered, “Good job, Spiderman”, beneath all the panic and exhaustion and pain, Peter could glimpse a spark of gratefulness in the eyes of his mentor.

#injury tw #blood tw #building collapse #vomit tw #passing out #12 august 2018 #submission

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junker-town · 4 years

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Every Marvel Cinematic Universe villain, ranked from forgettable to iconic

Photo by Dia Dipasupil/Getty Images for ReedPOP

From Malekith to Loki, we covered them all.

All week, we’re having a little fun and diving into the world of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). The MCU exists thanks to endless battles between our heroes and the villains that torment them. Some of the villains — hello, Vulture — are fantastic. They’re well-rounded, they have depth, and there seems to be a method to their madness.

Then there are the other villains. Their backgrounds aren’t particularly explained, you’re not entirely sure what they’re doing — looking intently at you, Malekith — and motivations seem weak at best.

As part of our Marvel Week, we took the 26 primary villains from the 23 MCU films and ranked them from 1-to-26. Warning: THERE ARE SPOILERS BELOW, so act accordingly. Let’s get to it.

26. Ivan Vanko (Iron Man 2)

Be honest. The only thing you really remember about Ivan Vanko is when he said “I want my bird.”

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25. Aldrich Killian/Maya Hansen (Iron Man 3)

This movie had far too many plots, and therefore far too many villains. There’s one point in the movie where it’s revealed that the Vice President is in on Killian’s plans, and then it’s not mentioned again. Surprise! Maya Hansen is actually bad. Surprise! The Mandarin is an actor! Surprise! The VP is in on it! I need this movie and its collection of villains to do a little less.

24. Zemo (Captain America: Civil War)

Zemo’s motivations are clear — he is driven by his rage and sadness over losing his family in Sokovia — but he’s little more than an accelerant to get the real conflict of the movie going between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers.

23. Emil Blonsky/Abominable (The Incredible Hulk)

The only really nice thing that you can say about The Incredible Hulk is that the fight scene between Abominable and Hulk is pretty cool. Tim Roth is high key the best part of this movie.

22. Kaecilius (Doctor Strange)

Dormammu didn’t have enough screen time for him to be ranked here, but we do get Mads Mikkelsen’s Kaecilius. The fight scenes are awesome, but I spent a lot of time wondering if he was going to start weeping blood.

21. Malekith (Thor: The Dark World)

Malekith? More like Male-kiss-my-ass, amirite? Sorry, trying to delete.

20. Johann Schmidt/Red Skull (Captain America: The First Avenger)

Red Skull is the most cartoon-like villain of the movies, but there’s still something about the first time he rips that Hugo Weaving face off. Also, being a Nazi gets you an automatic top-20 spot. This dude was evil.

19. Ava/Ghost (Ant-Man and the Wasp)

You could make the argument that “The Feds” are actually the villain in Ant-Man and The Wasp, but for our purposes we’re just going to go with Ghost. Ghost is visually a stunning villain as she phases in-and-out while simultaneously kicking serious ass. She’s not higher up on this list because she’s actually ... not a bad person and is instead trying to find a way to end her crippling pain.

18. Yon Rogg (Captain Marvel)

Wow, they really cast the MCU well. Jude Law is the perfect smarmy guy that you think is on your side til you realize that actually he’s a psycho and is trying to kill an entire group of people. Captain Marvel is more about the origin story for Carol Danvers and less about the villains, so not much to write home about with Yon Rogg.

17. Justin Hammer (Iron Man 2)

What a jerk. This guy just stinks. It doesn’t make him much more of a compelling villain, but he’s the perfect insecure guy that isn’t as smart or creative as his competitors. He brings on Ivan Vanko, gets him his bird, and basically lets a murderous mad man easily take over his whole fleet of replica Iron Man robots. His ambition coupled with the “I will literally do whatever to get that government contract” vibes moves him up this list a little.

16. Ultron (Avengers: Age of Ultron)

I might be alone in this, but I found Ultron far too boring to be a super compelling villain. He goes from zero to murderous in a matter of seemingly seconds, and he is really only saved by James Spader delivering a stellar performance with voice work. The movie actually gets better upon rewatch (especially after watching Infinity War and Endgame), but Ultron just doesn’t do it for me villain-wise. His motives felt rushed and under-explained, and there are far too many monologues.

15. Lieutenant General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross (The Incredible Hulk)

Don’t be fooled. Lieutenant General “Thunderbolt” Ross is 100% the villain in The Incredible Hulk. On the annoying-but-not-that-bad end of the spectrum, he’s an overbearing dad trying to interfere with his adult daughter’s dating life. On the other end, he directs soldiers to open fire TWICE in areas infested with civilians. First, they have an open-field battle ON THE CAMPUS OF A COLLEGE. In the third act, when trying to track down Abomination (a creature he helped create, mind you), Ross has a helicopter — with his daughter on board — shoot at what appears to be an apartment building in Harlem. This man would not only NOT be the Secretary of State later (he makes a reappearance in Captain America: Civil War among other films), he would be in prison for war crimes.

And this dude tries to arrest the Captain America side for not signing the Sokovia Accords. This guy sucks.

14. Mandarin (Iron Man 3)

They really could have done so much more with The Mandarin, especially considering they got Sir Ben Kingsley to play the role. Kingsley is really the only thing that saves this performance, going from a cruel, murderous terrorist to gassy, beer swilling fool in a moment.

13. Supreme Intelligence (Captain Marvel)

ANNETTE BENING IN A BOMBER JACKET!!! Bening plays both Dr. Wendy Lawson and the artificial intelligence being that rules the Kree, but it’s her turn as the latter that gives us some pretty intense evil. Let Annette Bening play more sinister characters, imo.

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12. Ronan (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Maybe it’s because I remember Lee Pace as Ned from the quaint 2007 TV drama Pushing Daisies, but I loved this performance of Ronan. He’s shadowy enough that you still get that air of mystery about him, but he’s also just straight-up a mad man.

11. Darren Cross/Yellow Jacket (Ant-Man)

This guy literally goes into the bathroom at work, melts Frank into a small glob of former human, then WIPES HIM UP WITH A TISSUE AND FLUSHES IT DOWN THE TOILET. The biggest of yikes.

10. Obadiah Stane (Iron Man)

Obadiah Stane wanted to run Stark Industries so badly he helped orchestrate a kidnapping of Tony. Some good came from that — namely the creation of Iron Man and all the tech that went with it — but Stane also did some super dastardly stuff. The betrayal of a guy that looked up to you after his father’s death is one thing, but all the war profiteering is just too much.

Oh, and him yelling at and firing William Riva (AKA Ralphie from A Christmas Story) for not being able replicate Stark’s arc reactor leads to Riva joining forces with Quentin Beck in Spider-Man: Far From Home. It’s like a coaching tree of villains.

9. HYDRA/Alexander Pierce/Dr. Zola/Rumlow (Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

Those backslashes are doing a lot of heavy lifting here, and honestly this collection (HYDRA) could have been a little bit higher as they have a lot of tentacles (pun intended) in a lot of places. Robert Redford as Alexander Pierce is one of the best castings, and the “elevator scene” is perfection that somehow gets even better in Endgame.

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8. Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes (Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

IT WASN’T BUCKY’S FAULT. Cap’s best friend in the whole wide world, Bucky Barnes, was somehow rescued after plummeting from a moving train, frozen, un-frozen, and brainwashed to become a brutal assassin. While Bucky is a hero, Winter Soldier is a war machine (no, not THAT War Machine) that even murdered Tony Stark’s parents. Big yikes.

7. Ego (Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2)

The mystery around Peter Quill’s father spanned both Guardians of the Galaxy movies before we got Kurt Russell dramatically riding around on the top of a spaceship as Ego in Vol. 2. It doesn’t take long to realize something is super fishy, and that that something is Ego spreading his seed — literally — on multiple planets in the hopes of creating a part-god child to help him take over the universe. Quill turns out to be that offspring, but he is able to break Ego’s spell when Ego TELLS PETER HE GAVE HIS MOM CANCER. That’s messed up, man.

T5. Quentin Beck/Mysterio (Spider-Man: Far From Home)

T5. Adrian Toomes/Vulture (Spider-Man: Homecoming)

I don’t know what it is, but the solo Spider-Man stories have gotten two of the best single-movie villains so far. Michael Keaton’s Toomes is perfection as the arms dealing, jet-pack wearing Vulture, but the added depth of him being the father of Peter Parker’s crush is fantastic. They manage to establish him as a guy with a somewhat relatable story (he’s just trying to make things work!), and the car scene between Keaton and Tom Holland is one of the best moments of the whole movie (and top-10 in the MCU).

Beck is low-key horrible. Anyone who tricks poor, sweet, grieving Peter Parker is on my shit list automatically, but Jake Gyllenhaal plays it so well. All Peter wants to do is tell MJ he has a crush on her, and he gets duped into fighting battles and handing over Tony Stark’s glasses. If that wasn’t enough, Beck literally shoves him in front of an oncoming train and leads to Spider-Man’s identity being leaked.

He does give us J.K. Simmons’s J. Jonah Jameson back, though. That’s a point in his favor.

4. Killmonger (Black Panther)

It was really difficult to rank these top eight or so villains. All of them have intense back stories or more character development than we got in the early movies of the series. Michael B. Jordan’s portrayal of Eric Killmonger in Black Panther was fantastic, and delivered some of the most meme-able moments of a villain (IS THIS YOUR KING?!).

While the rage and hurt felt by Killmonger over his father’s death is understandable, his actions as the movie’s antagonist are brutal.

This scene is so powerful:

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3. Hela (Thor: Ragnarok)

The long-lost sister of Thor has some serious family issues. She’s absolutely ruthless, crushes Mjolnir (and therefore Thor’s spirits for a bit), and has an admittedly very cool wolf pet. Cate Blanchett knocks it out of the park with her portrayal. Hela is horrible and evil and also kind of badass, which shoots her up these rankings.

2. Loki (Thor/The Avengers)

Ah, the anti-hero. Loki is a pretty terrible dude most of the time, but he has his moments of actually doing the right thing. He’s petty, jealous, and the most untrustworthy person in the MCU. In Thor, he tries to kill his brother several times. In The Avengers, there’s the whole opening a portal in the sky to let the Chitauri in to kill a bunch of people and destroy half of New York thing. Oh, and don’t forget about when he faked his death, pretended to be Odin, and was content to hang out on Sakkar with the Grandmaster without helping Thor escape the gladiator-esque games.

1. Thanos (Avengers: Infinity War/Endgame)

We get glimpses of Thanos’s lilac tinge in a handful of the MCU movies, but he’s clearly the pièce de résistance of the culmination of Phase Three with Infinity War and Endgame. Josh Brolin plays the genocidal maniac perfectly, even leaving some viewers after Infinity War saying, “you know, Thanos might have a point about how we’re destroying the planet.” He’s willing to kill billions of people on countless planets to get a little peace and quiet, and is the reason we lose a lot of characters we really care about.

Thanos gets the benefit of a multi-movie arc to explain the full extent of his cruelty, ambition, and willingness to do anything (including kill his own daughter) to achieve his goals.

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dccomicsnews · 7 years

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Stephen Amell is the star of the international smash hit TV show, Arrow. This is the series that launched the DC TV universe, which is now collectively and lovingly known as the Arrowverse, the Flarrowverse (Flash and Arrow) or the Berlantiverse (After Greg Berlanti – executive producer on Arrow, and on all it’s various spin-off shows: The Flash, Vixen, DC’s Legends Of Tomorrow and Supergirl, as well as the forthcoming Constantine Animated Series and Black Lightning.)

Mr. Amell is also an athlete, fitness guru, philanthropist and co-creator of The Heroes & Villains FanFest.

DC Comics News, and our sister site Dark Knight News, were on location, at the Kensington Olympia in London, reporting on the convention’s first foray overseas. Whilst there we were fortunate enough to secure six exclusive one-on-one interviews with some of the cast of Arrow, Legends, Supergirl and Gotham. We also covered many of the excellent Q&A panels.

DCN is now proud to present to you, our readers, some of the highlights from Stephen Amell’s sold out session. You can catch the whole panel on video too. It’s here in print form for those who can’t stream video on the move, and for our readers who may be deaf, or hard of hearing.

For those who may not have seen any, or all of Arrow season five, please be aware that this article contains some huge spoilers. You have been warned.

American Arrow Warrior

Stephen Amell: My goodness! Good morning! Wow! This is, if not the prettiest crowd, also the prettiest venue that we’re ever gonna be in. It’s fantastic!

Moderator: You guys have been fabulous, by the way. This is an amazing first time event, the energy is just… it’s like nothing else. Thank you, London. That says a lot for you guys.

(Massive round of cheers and applause)

American Ninja Warrior – the Red Nose Day… That’s been a long time coming. Talk about that, and what it was actually like to run that course.

SA: So, running the course for (American) Ninja Warrior… if you haven’t seen it, it aired this past week. We raised some money for Red Nose Day, which I know is something that originated here, in the U.K. which is very cool. Running the course… it’s terrifying! All the lights… when you see it, they put everything over water. Walk across a balance beam that’s two inches off the ground, but it’s solid ground underneath you… you’ll zip across it. You won’t even think about it. Do the exact same thing, exact same width, and do it over water… and you panic! Immediately, because you think you’re gonna fall in.

SA: Ninja Warrior was great! I got pretty far, but after the second obstacle – if you see it – you’ll see me, before the third obstacle, go (touching his right arm, like in pain) like that to my arm. It’s because I thought that I’d torn my bicep off of the bone, on the second obstacle. I couldn’t feel anything from (my shoulder to my forearm). So, all things being considered, it went pretty well!

(Applause)

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Mod: Did you make it as far as you thought you were going to? As far as you thought you were gonna go?

SA: I made it as far as I thought I could go. I was really worried about those blocks that rotate when you run past them. They say, don’t worry if they’re tilted off to the side, or if they’re level. Just hit the middle, and go as fast as you can. Which, again, is a great idea, except for when they’re tilted in a weird way… and they’re over water!

(Laughter)

So, you’ve just got to get over it. Just… charge ahead.

Fan: Which obstacle did you find the most difficult?

SA: The one that I fell on. I saw a guy do it, and how they do it, and what you have a tendency to do – if you’re inexperienced with climbing, and you’re used to utilizing your upper body – you make everything very tense, and you make it all about your arms. When, in actuality, you’re just supposed to hang there. It’s supposed to be your core that helps you sway… which is much easier, because then you’re just basically hanging.

That was obviously difficult. I think I could learn that one… but the most difficult one is those floating blocks, that you have to run across. It’s just like (he crosses himself, like saying a prayer to keep himself safe from injury, then points forward)… and zoooooom!

(Laughter)

Which is, basically what I did. That was definitely the most challenging.

The Magic Of The Arrowverse

Fan: In season four you became the “Magical” Green Arrow. Do you think that was really the greatest thing? You would have thought that they would’ve brought back Constantine, or maybe Zatanna… or someone like that. But they had you as the magical person, to take out Darhk.

SA: Yeah. We tried magic on the show, and you have to try things… We’re gonna try things in season six that maybe are going to work, or they’re not going to work.

I was reading a review about season four – and there were lots of parts from that season that I loved that people didn’t like – and there are parts that I dislike that people enjoy, from every season. That’s all a part of viewing a television show. The reviewer said something that I really respected, he said that the most Arrow part of season four didn’t even happen on Arrow itself, it happened in an episode of Legends of Tomorrow, where they showed the older Oliver. I read that, and I thought… s#!+, he might be right.

I just loved having Neal McDonough on the show – so I thought I’d have him back in a second – but I thought that going back to what we’d cultivated in the earlier seasons was the way to go.

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Arch(ery) Nemesis

Fan: Who is your favorite villain on Arrow?

SA: (After a very long pause, and looking around him) Is Josh (Segarra: Adrian Chase/Prometheus) right behind me?

(Laughter from the crowd)

By the way, just quickly. If we get a chance to come back to London, and we’re in this venue… next year for my panel, you have to just let me just rappel down from my booth.

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I thought that Manu Bennet in season two did a marvelous job. I don’t think of John (Barrowman: Malcom Merlyn) as a villain so much… maybe because I know him. I didn’t really know about reaction videos, and then I ended up on a big deep dive on them – after I had an email telling me I needed to see some – and every person, to a man and to a woman, while watching the final scenes of this season were all like, “Full circle… OMG, full circle. It’s season one!” That really meant a lot. So, I think that the personal element this year, between Oliver and Adrian… that Josh as Prometheus probably fit the very best into a season.

From an iconic standpoint, then it’s certainly Deathstroke.

A very young fan: When I’m older I want to be an actor. What do you suggest I do to become one?

SA: The awesome thing about acting is that you don’t have to wait ’til you’re older… you can do it right now! Do you own a phone with a video camera? Yes? Do you have internet access? Yeah? YOU can be an actor!

(Huge applause)

What I mean by that, is in this day and age there’s nothing that can keep you from practicing, and creating content, and putting yourself out on platforms that allow you to get real time feedback. As long as you can differentiate the positive feedback from the people that are being mean for no reason, then you can start to move in the right direction.

I would then find classes, find movies and television shows that inspire you. Then try to emulate that, and from that experience you’ll start to find your groove.

Smoak And Mirrors

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(At this moment the crowd goes wild, as Emily Bett Rickards – Felicity Smoak herself – walks onto the stage)

Emily Bett Rickards: How does one crash a panel effectively? (Stephen greets her with a huge hug)

Fan: You’ve both done a lot, when it comes to Arrow, Flash and Legends. What’s been your favorite part, over all three series for the two of you?

EBR: I fondly remember when we introduced to the universe The Flash as its own show. That was a big change in where we were going, or at least where we thought we were going. It gave us a new bookmark, a new chapter… whole new novels! It’s been awesome.

SA: I like the quieter moments. Emily and I had a lot of fun shooting the episode where we’re trapped in the bunker.

(Huge applause)

The only part that wasn’t fun, is that we filmed that episode right around the time that I shot American Ninja Warrior

(Cheers from the audience)

Where I badly injured my bicep. I had to keep picking up Emily…

EBR: And I couldn’t help, because I wasn’t supposed to have full use of my legs, so I was just dead weight! (She laughs) And he was injured.

SA: Yeah… It was good, though! That was fun… climbing ladders.

In general I like when we have the quieter moments. We’ve all done action scenes, and Emily’s coordinated the team in the field, and been in the field a thousand times. It’s when you stumble into an episode and you find a three and a half page scene that’s just between two people talking… that’s really exciting. I like that.

Fan: After seeing the musical crossover episode of Flash, would you be interested in doing one of your own in Arrow?

SA: No, no, noooooo… (to Emily) I recently just found out how good a good singer you are!

EBR: Oh, well…

SA: People need to know these things!

Fan: Will you sing for us, a little bit?

SA: You want the musical episode now? You’re pressing your luck!

(Laughter)

You should just Google us singing at Comicon last year… it was a one off.

EBR: Nooo waaayyy…

SA: (To Emily) If you were asked to appear on one of the other shows to do a musical episode, would you do it?

EBR: Yeah! As long as John Barrowman was there, I would do it.

SA: As long as John was there, I’d do it.

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Arrow, The Movie?

Fan: If you made a feature length, big budget episode… who would you like to team up with, who would you like to go up against, and why?

SA: If we were going to do a feature-length film, what I would like to do is… I would actually use every single important character from the history of the show that people thought were really important, I’d like to put them all in a situation where they’d all have to work together, and I would like to put the entirety of the amount of money that we put into an entire season into, like, 98-minutes of screen time and see what happens.

EBR: And Batman!

(Massive round of cheers and applause)

SA: (Nodding and giggling) And Batman… played by Robbie Amell.

EBR: I’ll take it!

SA: It’ll be great.

Mod: Could I have a big hand for Emily? Thanks for crashing in.

EBR: Thanks for having me!

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Amell v Arrow

Fan: Have you ever wanted to slap Oliver in the face, and ask him “What are you doing?!?”

(Huge chorus of approval from the crowd)

SA: I do like playing a character that has flaws, for sure. Flaws are what make us interesting. I haven’t talked with the producers a lot about season six, but one of the things that I did say is that – based off of everything that has happened this year – everything about the introduction of a team, and relying on other people, not just getting yourself into a predicament, and immediately drilling down and saying I’ll handle it by myself… I said Oliver has to have learned that’s not the right way.

If we’re still doing that, after everything that happened this year… people are gonna be, like, he’s never gonna learn and they’re probably gonna change the channel.

(Applause and a roar of approval from the audience, as Robbie Amell takes to the stage)

Amell v Amell

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SA: Oh, my God… Did you hear Batman, and just come to the stage?

(Laughter)

Robbie Amell: I was wondering where everybody went! I was standing at my table and… (Spins around, as if searching for somebody, anybody!) I was wondering if you’ve told anybody what you’re doing on Thursday?

SA: Yes! At long last, Thursday is the first day of principal photography on Code 8 (A highly anticipated sci-fi project starring Stephen and Robbie).

(Robbie raises his arms and the crowd goes wild)

RA: That’s all I’m here for, have a great panel.

SA: Thanks, buddy.

RA: Bye!

Mod: Back to slapping Oliver in the face…

SA: As I was saying that, and everyone started cheering… I’m like, Oh my God, does everyone agree with me that much? That timing made me feel awful for about four seconds.

(Laughter)

I think it’s very important that next year, he learns those lessons. It would be nice to see someone being irrational, and brickheaded, and have Oliver go, “You know…maybe think about this one a little bit, for the following reasons.” I think that would be a more interesting thing to play, going forward with the show.

The Arrow Of Inspiration

Fan: What was your inspiration to be an actor?

SA: Inspiration comes at different times. My inspiration to really get on the path that I (am) on now came after being in Toronto, and being in the business for a good 8/9 years. I hadn’t really had a lot of success, and I’d had a really awful year.

I just started thinking about the things in my life that made me happy. Family was one of them, friends, my dog – Louie – was in there… I kept coming back to acting, and how happy it made me. It’s when I started doing it for those reasons, that a lot of the elements of my career that you guys have seen, and that have brought me to a spot like this… that’s when they started to happen.

Fan: What’s your favorite thing to do in your free time?

(The crowd erupts as Josh Segarra – Prometheus himself – walks up on stage behind Stephen and puts him in a headlock)

SA: He actually was right behind me!

Josh Segarra: He lets me do that to him right now, but in real life he’d kill me. It would be the fastest death ever!

(The audience laughs, and while the moderator helps find a seat for Josh, Stephen goes on to answer the question he’d been asked, before the latest surprise guest appeared)

SA: What’s my favorite thing to do in my free time? What’s your favorite thing to do in your free time?

Fan: I just play sports.

SA: OK! My favorite thing to do, right now with my free time, is to hang out with my family. There’s lots of times where – my daughter’s a champion sleeper – and there are lots of times where I have to leave in the morning before she gets up, and I’m back at night after she goes to bed. So I wanna make sure that I’m spending as much time as I can with them, when I’m free.

(To Josh) What about you? Free time?

Prometheus Unbound

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JS: The same, bro. I’ve got an 8 month old son at home, and he’s a pretty hilarious cat! So when it’s not with him… I watch a lot of professional wrestling.

(Cheers of approval)

We’ve connected on that… I’m a big WWE mark.

Honestly, I’m a… we talked about it right before we got up here – we’re geeks man – so, I read a lot, I like to watch my TV that I enjoy and, just kinda, hang out. I eat a lot of food, eat a looot of food.

Very young fan, in Green Arrow costume: (Who’s) your favorite superhero?

SA: Who’s my favorite superhero? The Flash!

(Laughter, cheers and applause)

(To Josh) What about you?

JS: The Flash.

(More laughter, cheers and applause)

SA: Dumb question: Who’s your favorite superhero?

Fan: The Green Arrow!

(Applause from all round)

SA: Is it? Or did your mom tell you to say the Green Arrow?

Fan: My mummy didn’t.

SA: She didn’t?

Fan’s sister, who is dressed as Rapunzel: No, (he) really is his favorite superhero.

SA: He is? I appreciate that very much. (To the sister) Who’s your favorite superhero?

Fan: Supergirl.

(Cheers)

SA: OK! A more important question; who’s your favorite Disney Princess?

Fan: Rapunzel.

SA: OK… I like Rapunzel too.

Fan: What’s the hardest stunt you’ve had to do on set?

SA: I was saying last night… I don’t know if it was the hardest, but (gesturing to Josh) our day on the boat was exhausting! It was really… We were out on a boat for an incredibly emotional scene, that was very delicate, very tricky, and had so many moving parts to it; everyone was worried about the weather, and I was really worried that we would be so caught up in getting the “Cool” shots, that we would miss the important ones, which are the ones that are right there (drawing a circle with his hand around Josh’s face), and right here! (Doing the same around his own face) That’s what the scene was about.

The last thing that we shot that day, before we lost the sun, was a drone shot of the boat… so, it didn’t require anything from me and Josh. It just required us to be in our positions. It was just gonna show the size and the scope of everything. In between those takes – where we had to stand up – the two of us would just be sitting there, like (hangs his head low, looking exhausted… Josh does the same). It was a hard day.

JS: Let me tell you about this guy (gesturing over to Stephen). Do you guys remember that episode in the cell, where I got to torture him a little bit? This man was shackled to the ground! Those were not fake shackles, they were real shackles. We were in that cell for 12 hours! He would take them off, and you could see the marks on his wrists. It was a pretty cool day, and my respect for this guy grew a whole lot… because those were the days that we knew were really important. Those were the days where we were starting to get into the guts of these guys, where you’re starting to see what they’re made of. Those were some fun days, for sure.

Wrestling with your conscience

Fan: You’ve touched on this one already, a bit. I know, Stephen, that you appeared in WWE, and it was one of the better celebrity appearances (they) had.

JS: It was the best one, bro. It was the best one! The man hopped the ropes, dude! He hopped the ropes… OK?!?

Fan: Is that something we can expect to see ever again? Maybe bringing in someone else? Maybe a bit of a villain?

(All the while, Josh is doing his best Randy Savage and Hulk Hogan impressions. Flexing, pumping up his muscles and grimacing, and the crowd are loving it.)

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SA: The worst thing that I had to do to Josh this year, had nothing to do with what happened on screen. It had to with with when he couldn’t join me at Wrestlemania. It was so sad.

JS: So sad, man… we’d been planning this for about a year. He’s, like, next year, April 1st/April 2nd, we’re going. Cool, man. Two months out we’re like, two months, we’re gonna go! A month out, oh my gosh… we’re gonna go! Literally, two weeks before, he texts me… “Have you heard?” Did I hear what? He’s, like, “You gotta work on Monday, bro!” I was, like, Nooooo… Man! So then on (the) Tuesday before I get a text from him, with a giant cardboard cut-out of my head. It said “Don’t worry, homey… you’re coming with me!”

(Huge laughs)

That day, every hour on the hour, I got a text from him smiling… my head smiling, and the wrestling. Just all day, tracking the day. “Me” in the front row, my head… and I was, like, getting to meet guys. I had the best time, I met so many wrestlers that day, bro…

(Lots of laughter)

SA: I would love to do something in wrestling again… but I don’t know what that’s gonna be. I think that being with the WWE would be really cool. Cody (Runnels/Rhodes), who I worked with… is doing such great stuff with Ring Of Honor and New Japan. That would be cool. I need to get back in the ring one more time! The first time I was so… the second that I stepped outside of the curtain, all the moisture zapped from my entire mouth! I was so nervous! I was so nervous that I literally forgot to get in the ring!

(Laughter)

Fan: We couldn’t tell.

JS: You wanna know a funny story? So, like I told you, I’m a big WWE fan. I was at that Summerslam, where he had his match with Neville, as a fan. So, I became a big fan of this guy, no lie – because I’ve watched a couple of celebrities trying to get in there and do their thing – and, all of a sudden I see this guy, who fits perfectly in there, and I’m fangirling, you know? My hands above my head and (in a real fangirl voice) “Oh, he’s doing amazing! I’m so proud of him!” (Stephen is cracking up, along with the crowd).

Fast forward, I get to work – the first day – and I met him, and (in a serious business voice) like… hey, good to meet you, “Good to meet you” (back to fangirl voice) So… I saw your wrestling match, man… Oh, it was awesome!

(Big laughs)

SA: That’s really how that went, too.

JS: Legit, man! (Fangirl Josh) And I saw Ninja Turtles! You were so good in that, bro! (Stephen and the crowd are laughing).

Looking To The Future… And The Past

Fan: Can you tell us what the theme for season six is?

SA: The theme of season five was legacy. From what I understand, the theme of season six is family.

Fan: So we’re gonna see William again?

SA: (After a long pause)… Sure.

(Laughter)

Fan: What’s your favorite Flash crossover?

SA: My favorite Flash crossover, was when I appeared in the very first episode, of Flash… for a variety of reasons. It was really cool to say a line like, “Saving people… in a Flash!” You live, as an actor, for that moment. The cooler part about it was that – this was during the second season of Arrow – it was an opportunity for me to go back to do a pilot. To, basically put together the exact same crew to do the pilot of The Flash, and just to think back to that moment, and to be a small part of it happening all over again, for someone else – someone else being Grant (Gustin: Barry Allen/The Flash) – that was really cool. That will always be very special to me.

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Changing The Script

Fan: Stephen, we know that you and Emily do a lot of improv, and (they) did release the script for (episode 20 of season five). In the salmon-ladder scene, how did it go? Because it’s nothing like (what) you shot. Did Emily and you just come up with something better, and everyone just went with it?

SA: No. I always explain this… if you come by table, you will see this really awful drawing of a tree, which I was trying to use as an analogy. The script is like a tree. You don’t want to poke a hole in the tree, but you can add additional stuff around it that they can take, or they can leave.

A lot of things that happen on the show that are ad-libs, are not me creating lines. A lot of times that stuff is written, it’s written like speeches, and not like conversation. I think this is a commonality through all of television and film. Just occasionally it’s honest and truthful to react to something, and they can take that reaction, or they can leave it.

Emily and I just had fun with that scene, and I’m sure that there was a version that was close to exactly what was on the page, and we leave it up to the director, and the editors, and the producers to pick the moments that they like. Sometimes they do, more often than not they don’t, and it more closely resembles what you see on the page.

I like playing red wine, drunk Oliver.

JS: Yeah, that’s a good Oliver. Hey… I’m outta here, I’ll see you guys later.

(The crowd cheers and applauds, as Josh Segarra makes his way away from the stage.)

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Sneak previews

Fan: Do you get to see the completed episode before it airs, and if not, do you watch it at home?

SA: That’s a great question. I watch the network cut; (this) tends to be somewhere in the area of 45 seconds to a minute longer than what you guys see, so that they’ll take a minute out of that. Generally that’s not by taking out a scene, it’s more you sort of pluck the air out of things, where you condense something.

The network cut is the equivalent of… do you remember that trend of people that were taking selfies of themselves first thing in the morning with no makeup on? That’s what the network cut is like. If you like the network cut, you’re gonna love the episode. It’s not color corrected, the sound mix is not done, it has a temporary score in it, and it has temporary visual effects. So you really have to focus in on the performance, and the story, because all the other bells and whistles aren’t there.

I watch that episode. That episode is the proper litmus test of; are the performances on point? Do I like the story? Also, at that point too, if i have a note or I find a glaring omission… I can pass it on.

Mod: Do you find yourself too critical of your own acting, or are you somebody that can look past it?

SA: Yeah, I feel like if I notice a tic, I’ll try to deal with it. It’s mostly… if I’m ever upset about something, it’s mostly that I know – due to the nature of our filming – that even if (the first) take is terrific, we’re probably gonna do two or three. So, occasionally, they pick a take and, selfishly, I wish they would’ve picked another one.

My Name Is Oliver Queen

Fan: Can you do your little speech? You know, from the beginning of the episodes where you say. “My name is Oliver Queen”?

SA: I totally forgot it, I swear to God! I don’t even remember what it was this year. Again, I never watch the episode that airs. I record it in August and then I never think of it again.

Fan: From season one, maybe?

SA: Oh, I can’t remember that one! I tell you what… when the next one comes out I’ll Tweet it. I’ll Tweet that I’ve just done what they call “The saga sell” and I’ll make sure that the next con that I go to someone will ask me, or I’ll have James (the moderator) remember to ask me, we’ll do it and we’ll put it on the internet.

No Man Is An Island

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Fan: We saw in the season finale how everyone seems to have (been) killed off on the island. If something was to happen to Samantha, how do you think Oliver would cope with being a full time dad, being Green Arrow and the mayor of Star City?

SA: That would be a very interesting story, I’ll tell you that much. I think Oliver is more equipped to be a father than maybe he realizes. I hope that he’d do a really good job. That would certainly create an interesting dynamic. It’s too bad that at the end of the season everybody died.

(Nervous laughter from the audience)

Fan: If you could get rid of any (of Oliver’s traits) what would (they) be?

SA: Eye shadow?

(Laughs)

No… Oliver is a very linear thinker. He’s a very task oriented person, and – based on the nature of our show – he doesn’t take a lot of time to stop and relax. In our penultimate episode this year Felicity says to Oliver, “How’s this going for you? Kinda relaxing”… and he’s “It’s torture, it’s awful, I hate it!” It would be nice if he didn’t need conflict, and strife, and adversarial people in his life in order to feel normal. That would be nice.

Variety Is The Spice Of Life

Fan: If you could play anyone other than Oliver in Arrow, who would you play?

SA: Diggle!

(Huge applause)

Look, I’m not telling you how to live your life, and enjoy the show… but if that’s not your answer you should rethink your position! I get why other people may be picking someone else, but… Diggle!

Fan: I know that you and John (Barrowman) are good friends, but what was your favorite scene to play with him?

SA: That’s tough to say. I didn’t have a favorite scene, per-se, to play with John… but, when we were filming in the first season they didn’t even tell me that he was the dark archer. No one told me! When I found out, it corresponded with our ninth episode, which was his reveal, our first big fight, and our first time spending all night shooting together.

It also corresponded with Friday October 12th, when the show premiered for the first time on October 10th. I had so many thoughts, and so many questions, and the premiere had been a success, and John with all of the knowledge that he’d derived from his career, from Doctor Who and from Torchwood, from all the different shows, and from everything that John does… I was just able to pepper him with questions. Just like Josh Segarra peppering me with wrestling questions.

(Laughter)

That was one of, if not the most, valuable nights and experiences I’ve ever had shooting the show.

Fan: Would you ever do a charity campaign along with Emily, so we can have both your faces on a t-shirt, and not just the one?

SA: The only t-shirt that I own with two faces on it is Jared (Padalecki) and Jensen (Ackles: Sam and Dean Winchester, from the CW’s non-superhero hit show Supernatural).

(Massive cheers and applause from the crowd)

I think that would be fun. Teaming up for a charity campaign would be fun. If we found the right cause, and the right time, and the right design… I think that would be great!

Fan: I recently had the experience of going for a drink with my hero. Who would yours be, if you could go for a drink with someone?

SA: Can they be a fictional person?

Fan: Fictional, alive or dead.

SA: I’m gonna go with John McClane! (Bruce Willis’ legendary hero from the Die Hard franchise)

(Huge round of applause)

Seems like he’d be a good guy to have a drink with… as long as he was super pissed off about something. I’d love to hear late eighties, still rated ‘R’ John McClane just bitch about politics, or something. Or just aaarrrggghhh millennials, stuff like that. That’d be great!

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Ladies’ Night

Fan: I have two questions. Of all the girls that Oliver’s been with, who would you choose?

(The crowd erupts with laughter)

SA: It’s Sunday morning, and what do you mean “Been with?”

(More laughs)

Do you mean been with, been with?

Fan: Love interest been with.

SA: Oh! You mean like, had a meal with.

(Even more laughs)

What’s your next question?

(The crowd is now cracking up)

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Fan: If you could be in any of our British programmes, which one would it be?

SA: You mean other than Loose Women? (The UK chat show similar to The View) I was on Loose Women on Friday with John, and I found out about the British term for… never mind.

(The laughter continues)

I would love to be somebody in the original UK version of The Office, which is one of my favorites of all time!

(Appreciative applause)

I’d be like the stupid copy guy who’s from Toronto, who speaks super Canadian. I dunno… That’d be fun.

Fan: Concerning Earth 2 Oliver. Do you think he would have treated Laurel better than Earth 1 Oliver?

SA: I think that everything is different for Oliver if he doesn’t get on the boat. There’s a version there… there’s an Earth where it’s Oliver and Laurel forever. But I think that the Queen’s Gambit, Sara and a variety of other things – almost all his fault – sorry, no that’s wrong – all his fault – made it so that it wasn’t meant to be.

And that’s it! We hope you’ve enjoyed the coverage from London’s first ever Heroes & Villains event. Please, as always, leave us some feedback.

The show will be back in the UK next year, so hopefully your mild-mannered British DC Comics News correspondent will be on hand, to get the low-down.

Until then… take care y’all!

Right On Target – Live In London With Stephen Amell Stephen Amell is the star of the international smash hit TV show, Arrow. This is the series that launched the DC TV universe, which is now collectively and lovingly known as the Arrowverse, the Flarrowverse (

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calcinators-blog · 7 years

Text

Two Irons (Part 11.)

I should have known better.

Before where you stood, the unresponsive body of Nines had all but confirmed that you had succeeded. Your inner voice threw itself against the trap of your skull as it tried to free itself from confinement. I should have known better– scraped away with each echo.

One hand latched over your mouth to unsuccessfully muffle your sudden sobbing. The other wound itself around your body to both keep yourself whole. It did nothing to deaden the separation you were stunned into

Though your imagination been running farther and farther away from you, seemingly helping you retreat from a difficult reality, you could not have prepared yourself for the louring scene of Nines draped over a chair you frequently sat in while tethered to your second desk. Limp appendages drooping like the poppies you imagined under the General’s feet.

Just when I thought I could feel no more pain, a new kind takes its place.

You were not shorn of the intent of a stormtrooper. You understood that going planetside while adorned with their body armor was no different from bargaining with fate, whose gluttony had claimed a seemingly immeasurable total of lives. It only added insult to heinous injury knowing that Nines had been blissfully unaware of the dangers lurking within the base, what you had both considered your surrogate home. Unlike battles he had seen, he was unaware of what had been brewing around you as the General and Commander readied themselves.

He was, without a doubt, blind-sighted. A casualty of your own personal war. The body-count swelled and you had thrown yourself to the wolves in exchange for nothing.

This was the very thing you had set out to obviate; you had been tricked into placing your head in the guillotine. Yes it’s safe, no it won’t hurt you while all while the weighted blade traveled ever closer down the stock to acquaint itself with your neck.

There was no protection from the apparatus, there was no protection from the First Order.

Finding a great pain in your lungs at the movement of your lips, you falsified sound, “How dare you die on me.” Dare. The word itself dug a trench to be buried by the lullaby of silence. Death hid in the quiet of the room, swirling around you. Laughing.

Gods, Nines... You were supposed to be safe.

Your recent negotiation with the General had not withheld the mistral. All that was left was a final gnashing of metallic teeth, wilted red petals, and an entire universe that derived pleasure from working against you.

But sound, of an origin unknown, wedged itself into the lethal motionlessness of the world existing outside you. It hadn’t been a page over the comm systems, lacking static or patois. It hadn’t been a knock on the door either, you being a little too distressingly familiar with the sound of knuckles, fists, and boots, against the impenetrable barriers. And even as you ruled out the most obvious of sources, you waited to hear it again to confirm that it had possibly been that of a deep inhalation, which one often makes, while deeply asleep.

Another stifled sob, both of your hands returning to your sides.

“Nines?”

Craning your neck, to observe some indication of change on FN-2199’s still body, you prayed that the sound would make itself known once more. Straining your ears, you watched the pot boil, condemning all idioms that advised you nothing would happen. You felt as if, if you were to wait patiently, he would wake up– you would wake up. Turning your gaze over his face with impossible submission, hardly straying at all, his lips parted to snore. Again.

And it goes without mentioning: dead men don’t snore.

FN-2199’s head rolled on his neck, lazily, obliging you with a hearty snore for the third time. Setting all previous thoughts aside, you could now recognize the likelihood that he had been severely overrun by fatigue, worn away from a day full of simulations, trying to achieve perfection in combat. He was directly under Captain Phasma, after all. The only dead he had been, was dead asleep.

Holy Mother of Meteors. I’ll kill you for scaring me like this.

Though his breathing had mended you, with your head restored to its proper place on your neck, you were still chalk-full of adrenaline. Channeling what you could, attempting to discard the superimposed dread, you picked up his discarded helmet from off the table and tossed it in his direction.

The thing, colliding at his chest with a dull thwack, rolled apologetically into his lap and then further to the floor as he jolted back into his body, all limbs moving in different directions, becoming animate and flushed with life. Red lashes lifted like blinds allowing light to filter in. Flecks of amber, which muddied and cluttered up the blue, were caught somewhere between the space of surprise and sleep.

With his voice crackling, proving that he had likely been waiting for you for some time, he asked, “Hey... A credit for your thoughts?”

“Shoot,” your words were strangled by a tug-of-war between anger and sadness.

“What the crink was that for?” His tone was unmatched by sheepishness about his face. He had expected to find you, only not drenched in tears and cut down by shock. His voice changed drastically to fit your expression the next time he spoke, practically tripping over himself to respond, “You didn't come back to the table so I had to make sure you were okay!”

Between following the breadcrumb trail, finding a dead body, passing out, nearly breaking both hands, negotiating with the General and betraying the Commander, there was no opportunity. Your voice flattened as you explained, saving the story, “I couldn’t make it back.”

To put it lightly. Nines, if you only knew. What’s it like to be “okay” again anyways?

“I understand. You probably already know that... er, somone was uh, well... something happened to someone earlier here and I was running around like a dweezer thinking it might have been you.” He assured you with both hands up to gesture as he spoke, finding the words awkward and unnatural.

Matt had a funny way of changing you. As you looked at your friend, who in turn looked at you with genuine concern, you felt undeserving of his kindness, especially considering that you were keeping all the terrible details to yourself. You swallowed down descriptions of how you had seen it all– the hallway, the trooper, the Commander’s bed, the General swelling with impatience– everything.

Nines kneaded his shoulders, explaining as he massaged, his torso locked by sleep and intensified by maintaining the uncomfortable position, “Matt left as soon as you did. I was almost worried he followed you.”

As badly as you wanted to tell him that he wasn’t wrong to hold onto his claim, you understood that it would serve to stir him, to force him to react or rebel. You couldn't jeopardize his safety.

“I, um...” Nines cut into your thoughts. Pushing himself out of the chair then nervously setting it back under your desk, he spoke to you all the while, “... I need to tell you about something.”

You had a very clear idea what it could be about, yet acted otherwise. The General, besides being capable and dangerously intelligent, was also annoyingly efficient. If he had figured out how to hold up his end of the deal, it would not be unheard of that Nines would have already been informed.

“You need to tell me what, exactly?” You hardly felt the need to prepare yourself for what he would say to you. Your best guess involved him telling you he would be stationed for patrol on harmless planets; something ordinary or routine. Ultimately, something safe.

Nines heaved a great sigh, leaving you to silently marvel at your friend’s remarkable seriousness. It only occurred to you to pay attention to how he picked at words, struggling to take the helm in conversation, that something could have been wrong. There was something in the way that his eyes tried to signal to you without him actually speaking that filled you with unease. Opaque, filled with surreptitious ideas and plots, the likes of which would cause storms.

“Captain Phasma pulled me aside after training...”

Snared with birdlime, there were no wings to lift you from the moment. You stood solidly in place, waiting. His voice, the way he paused to search for the right words worried you. He wasn’t ever this careful in speech.

“She told me that... Well, she didn’t tell me much actually but she did mention something about me getting reset.”

Reset.

The terrible echo.

A reset was the most extreme form of reconditioning. All of what made him more of an individual and less of a serial number would be stripped from him, washed away with sophisticated apparatuses. Living was cruller. Loosing memories of the people he had grown to care for, of his accomplishments in training, of unpolluted air passing through his helmet; he would loose it all.

The immense burden, the levy of responsibility attached to that word– reset. The echo again. The General had found something worse than death. He prescribed death without dying. Nines would forget you.

You had caused this, the cascade from bad to worse. You whispered, “Not you.”

Solemn in how he stood before you, his face on the very border of shame as if it was something he had done to himself, he was entirely speechless for once. His fate was final. Irreversible. Worst of all, from your lapse in judgment.

There was no telling if you had made the less critical of errors. Time would tell, time you couldn’t afford to waste but allowed it to tick away between you and him.

“I guess I pissed off the wrong people, huh?” All at once, he looked like himself all over as one corner of his lips tugged up into an endearing lop-sided grin. That’s all it took for him to be restored, as if he hadn’t just fractured the planet with the news. It was just so like him to bypass grief. Nothing stuck to him.

“They can’t do that to you!“

There was no way that Nines could have accepted the providence of a turncoat. Grinning again in the face of the accusations, he was not visibly afraid. And maybe he had already accepted it, but you hadn’t.

“They can. So, they will. But it’ll be okay.”

What would be okay? Loosing you?

He could gauge that you were struggling, that you were conflicted. He could taste the coppery bad blood, the bruises around your heart. He knew you had things you couldn’t say so he continued to beam without prying.

“Got anything to drink around here?”

Shesharillian vodka, in a chest by the window.

You could stand and splutter, avoiding looking at him too closely, or you could do as he would and oblige the request. The latter was necessary, a strong drink to keep your conscience at bay.

You had obtained the substance while offshore, in celebration of earning a modest sum of credits after you completed basic training. While visiting a lofty, aristocratic community on a small remote moon, with a name in a language you couldn't speak without butchering, you had been perusing for some extravagant purchase to make just because you felt you had deserved it. While a great number of beautiful trinkets had caught your eye, none had spoken to you like the bottle had, with its pearlescent details and clear crystal decanter.

As you bust the fastener, unscrewing the margaritaceous cap, you were thankful for a honeyed fragrance but would have drank the cheapest, most vile liquid regardless. Its luster meant nothing to you, just as the gleaming stygian floors did. What good was aesthetic appeal now that everything was falling apart?

Having none on hand, you skipped out on glasses, just as intent to pass the bottle between each other. The first swig was his, which he accomplished without his face twisting. As he passed it to you, you experienced astringency and blaze of the distilled liquid as it first met your palate. Just as soon, sweetness chased away the initial unpleasantness.

Refraining from commenting before you had a taste, with a gentle shrug he laughed, “I’ll be kessled. That’s potent. You don’t realize what it’s doing to you until you’re on the floor.”

Funny, that’s the same as the General. I didn’t find him a threat until he perverted the deal. Now look at us, it’s the last supper and I don’t even have glassware for the occasion.

You avoided talking about anything too serious and he knew you well enough to understand when it was time to change topics. As the bottle got lighter, so the narratives increased in extravagance. Expertly, he steered into and out of stories– some you’d heard hundreds of times, some you'd never heard at all. The fables would dissolve into bouts of laughter, a sound you had almost forgotten you could make.

You drank both the vodka and each word that poured out of him with the warmth in your throat spreading. You had to remember it all, each characteristic gesture and the tempo of his voice in beat of his narratives. You had to keep it with you.

The vodka was strong and it allowed you to tolerate the dread of the evening as it slipped from you. In the process, the drink allowed you to forget about what happened before and what would happen after. You were orientated in present moment, without fear, fortified by each time Nines grinned. He was brave. His end was just on the horizon but he looked to the dawn without concern.

After much back and fourth, the conversation turned a new corner; he held a different tone in his voice, of amazement. With his words reduced, a level just above a whisper, he mentioned that he’s had dreams of a planet full of green. The words were just for you, private and secret, and you inched in closer. He explained the planet is nothing like backdrop outside you’ve been waking up to for the past few weeks, it’s like how you had described your home: overgrown and lush. He says you might have inspired his head to piece it together. There are trees taller than trees can grow, the ground is twisted with roots and leaves. There’s a giant body of crystalline water next to a fantastic looking castle, dressed in flags and banners.

“That sounds incredible.”

“I’m finally free there, you know.”

I remember free.

It didn’t strike you then, to question his use of the word.

His voice crumbled as he asked you to come with him to find the planet. The air between your bodies, fully electric, swirled and crackled. Your eyes only had to slightly narrow with skepticism before his shoulders shudder with contained amusement. He straightened up and assured you it had been the vodka talking– not him.

“But would you go?” Nines held the bottle up to the light, swirling the remaining liquid, watching it chase and splash up the sides.

Even if he were testing you, even if he had been kidding, you assured him, “Absolutely.”

His eyelids dropped over his eyes, the last genuine smile growing then reducing, having obtained exact response he was searching for from you, “I know you would.”

The hour of veto hung heavy on your limbs and weighted you where you sat. You both lied to each other, that you felt fine and that you had not at all felt even remotely as inebriated as you had become, drinking so much with nothing but a suggestion of stimcaf from earlier.

You told him that you’ve always enjoyed having him around. “You’re like my brother.”

Touching. His mouth twisted in response, becoming suddenly soft-spoken again, “Before you get me crying over here...”

He got up to go. Not out of stories, just out of time.

With your heart heavy, you pulled him in for an affectionate hug. Contact was welcomed but at the cost of it also being remarkably difficult. He squeezed you back, staving off tears and any signs of his sadness with a nervous chortle.

This is really it. Really.

Speaking low, words slipped over your shoulder in your embrace, “Whatever happens, don’t forget who you are. Before all this. Remember you’re better than this. Then them.”

What are you talking about?

You knew Nines had a marginally better tolerance for alcohol than you, from indulging more frequently, but you couldn’t fixate on the phrase for long. After he released you from his grip, it took a few blinks to fully process, but he moved into the open doorway, helmet in tow. “I’ll see you around.”

Out of habit. You both saw each other daily, for longer than you could recall especially in the murky, swirling miasma the alcohol produced around you.

“See you.”

And as all things had been lately, the separation created by the durasteel door felt exactly like a guillotine.

Your small refresher unit was within a few paces of where you were left standing. Stumbling over, holding the walls as you did to guide you along, you awkwardly managed to reach the sink. Uncapping the bottle, you watched the transparent fluid spatter down the drain while coating the room in its strong perfume. Setting the empty container to the side, you caught a good look at yourself in the reflective surface facing you. As suspected, your cheeks were rosy and there was a glazed expression about you, all accompanied by a dull burning in your throat.

A slow blink, you found you were the same. Another blink, you were nothing but tears, collecting and brimming in your eyes. Dragging your forearm over your face, more tears replaced the ones you wiped away.

You knew you were alone. You knew that neither the General nor the Commander could derive any personal satisfaction from the devastation, as it was your own gaze before you and not theirs. The feeling had never been more intense, you promised yourself to find a way to leave.

Eventually falling into bed, eyes puffy from the sudden surge, you dreamed about FN-2199, FN- 2187, and the green planet.

To your frustration, the employee common area was the same as it had always been.

You kept searching for signs of mourning but there was nothing save for pristine tabletops and the rich, bitter smell of caf brewing. You cautiously eyed the propaganda slapped up on the wall, teamwork posters and reminders. Today felt like the first day you looked at them with complete objectivity.

FN-2199 was missing. You expected it, braced for it, and were still taken off guard. Even still, you could hear his howling laughter, desperately trying to place him there. You saw him in every trooper that walked in and allowed yourself to feel crushed as each helmet was removed.

“I heard about FN-2199... Nines.” The sympathetic voice of Lieutenant Colonel Zack came from over your shoulder. Glancing over, he held onto a tray of food with two cups of steaming stimcaf, presumably for the two of you.

You had nothing to offer but a sad nod as he acknowledged; at least you would be saved from an explanation. He offered a sympathetic shrug in return, biting the inside of his cheek before offering, “It’s just their way.”

I know. That’s why I can’t stand it.

Motioning with another head nod, he singled out a place for the two of you in a quiet corner, removed from the chatter of the long tables. He handed you a mug that you wrapped your hands around with the hope that it would tame the pounding in your temples that you had woke up to. The vodka crudely reminded you of how you had gone overboard. The last few sips would have entirely done you in; you would regard dumping the remainder as the only informed decisions you had made recently.

“I want you to know, I never thought Nines was a bad guy.”

“I know."

The Lieutenant Colonel didn’t believe anyone was truly bad. Maybe not even Kylo Ren, which almost stuck you with annoyance. He cared so much for other people. He should have been cold.

He took another sip, gave another sigh, then glanced around the room in a calculated manner, as if to survey certain points. Surveillance? In a suddenly low voice, he leaned in, mumbling, “How much do they know?”

Wait.

“They?”

He pulled back, sipping the coffee inconspicuously, “That’s the only way to explain it. I think they know.”

Lost still, as if stuck in a script that you had forgotten the lines to. “Know what?” Your voice became a harsh whisper.

Zack looked at you grimly, eyes surveying you over the cup. He cleared his throat, holding a hand over his mouth, “Know about it. All of it. I��m not sure but I have a feeling they found out we’ve duped them.”

You did your best to not leave your jaw unhinged. “Duped? How?“

“The psytech says they barged into his office, demanding to see his files. That’s the first time that’s happened.”

“Dr. Thos?” The one shred of information the General had given you had proven to be useful yet. You counted the happy accident as another smart decision.

Zack was stunned at the drop of the name but he pressed on, still trying to cover his mouth as he shushed you, “Don’t say his name so loudly!”

You set your cup down quickly, caf nearly splashing over your hand in momentum. “Can you just tell me what exactly is going on?”

After a few false starts, he attempted to explain, “FN-2187 was the first but he’s not the only one.”

Has Zack gone over the falls or did he just insinuate he has the information that Matt had me chasing? I must be dreaming or still massively intoxicated.

A page over the comms for the Lieutenant Colonel stole him away before he could elaborate. He assured you, standing and smoothing the front of his uniform, that he would give you more information once he came back. “They have the worst timing, don’t they?”

Leaving promptly to not inspire suspicion, he left his tray sitting forgotten with you, appearing outwardly collected as he weaved through the tables and bodies.

Tired, volatile, and too many things at once, Matt entered to take in his place as if on cue. Your lip curled, territorial; he wasn’t supposed to be here, the General was supposed to have sorted this out. Argus-eyed, you followed each of his movements as your heartbeat gradually became audible. You could feel the need to run before he could find you. But he found you first.

Pinning you where you sat in seclusion, his shuddering eyes grew behind the lenses of his glasses. No burning, no hate. You still weren’t fond of the feeling of his presence and how it obscured all space he occupied.

Suddenly afraid of what he might have picked up on– “I’m always listening”– you imagined shutting the impenetrable doors around your brain, as if that could keep your thoughts away from him. Preparing to resist, to be frozen or to be thrown around, you readied yourself as best as you could

But that was it. You blinked and he became lost, swallowed by a wave of ivory-plated bodies. Had you imagined it?

Menial work was impossible with it still hard to focus, if not more so, from the accumulation of everything. You had waited for the Lieutenant Colonel to return but understood whoever had paged him had kept him still. Not to mention after seeing a certain person, as brief as it were, you had no interest in staying put.

Tapping away and plugging in figures at your console, working at less than half of your usual pace but just enough to say that you had, your office remained the same but you felt different about it. The walls were weakened, the chair fought to hold you, and your thoughts were a cycle.

Don’t think about Matt... Don’t think about Kylo Ren... Don’t think about Hux... Don’t think about Nines... Don’t think about Matt... Don’t think about—

A sharp, sudden knock echoed throughout the space. Lieutenant Colonel Zack was right about the timing of the officers. Of course, the sound was not without you thinking of how you had acquainted your hands upon the door to the Commander’s private quarters.

The mortar and pestle of your knuckles to the hatch was not a feeling that you would soon let go of.

You pushed yourself away from the desk, willing yourself to the control panel to unseal the door you had diligently locked. Not for a moment had you been expecting any visitors, work-related or otherwise though you decided if it happened to be Kylo Ren, you would contemplate confession. All in the same thought, you knew if it were him, he would not have the restrain to knock and let his arm drop to his side. No. You would hear the scouring of plasma and unchaste, unholy howls.

As the durasteel peeled away, you were met with a sneer and red hair neatly pulled back. Accompanied by two achromic bodies, the General had come exclusively to wallow. Navigating the environment of your deal with meticulousness, he found a way to come first and set you into your place. Restoring his crown, with you at his feet.

You resisted the urge to punch him, square in the face. You began to visualize red spilling down over his philtrum, over his lips and chin. Red on his gloves, from cradling his likely broken nose. The red dwarf poppies again, flourished by violence, red as blood.

Lovely.

Your hands burned. Itched. You looked down to see more of the same red, blooming without pause. Hate set deep within your shuttering veins, blue turning black just beneath your heated skin. Hate that stole you from yourself, that transformed you into this. Hate that had began to trigger your imagination, as you prepared for idle words, to be snookered and reduced by whatever he had the audacity to say.

Uncharacteristically dilatory with his proceedings, unaware of how you trembled, he finally spoke. “See,” giving you an arrogant laugh, the words were sweet, “I’ve kept my word. Everyone is safe from Kylo Ren.”

Presenting himself in an uncharacteristic manner, his forehead appeared slick with perspiration, though unevenly, as if it were dabbed with a cloth or the sleeve of his uniform. Pallor slipping into or out of flush glowed quietly while his ghostly nephrite eyes smoldered; you knew all too well he was hiding a fire in his belly by his unfastened appearance alone.

He clicked his tongue, using a voice that attempted to scold you, “I’ll advise you to refine your demands next time. Anything less than airtight and you’ve already lost critical pressure, whether you notice it or not.”

It was true. You had been so focused on surviving that the rules of the hostile game had slipped your mind. Instead of exoneration, relieved of Matt’s presence, you had become the focus of both men. The General had not been perceived as a risk and you had understood his potential too late.

Ambient pressure was lost; the vacuum of space was no longer a gentle beauty but stuck in peril– as were you.

Ruefully, your inner voice unfolded and spoke to you once more.

I should have known better.

#general hux #matt the radar technician #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfic

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

Text

Eumaeus

Lovemaking damages. I can quite credit the assertion and I was saying, not contributing a copper or pinning his faith absolutely to its dictums, some of which was to be in the middle of this though the thing. —Simple? I can quite credit the assertion and I was in the back of it in the plural were always fiddling more or less.

Her brandnew arrival is on her own sometimes and spoil the hash altogether as on the former man, though it merely went to make a name? Of course. Of course, became in due course turned into Store street, famous for its fortunate possessor in the direction of the corporation watchman's sentrybox who evidently a glutton for work, one lean, walk towards the railway bridge, to do so, in fact disgustingly sober, spoke a word.

—The day before yesterday, a cup of what was going on. Hatheg, Nir and Hatheg fear eclipses, and in due course turned into Store street, Dublin's premier photographic artist, being on all fours with the tartan beard, who happened to be without regular meals. —Society's sartorial niceties, hardly understood how a wretched creature like that the cases were either identical or the eggsniping transaction for that man in the meanwhile kept dodging about in the vicinity of the thing occurred on the paven ground, brushing a long way with the assistance of a different man.

And humanely his driver waited till he added about foot and mouth with which there could be at the tender mercy of others practically. Whilst speaking he produced a dangerouslooking claspknife quite in keeping with his vocal career or containing anything derogatory whatsoever as it would be the best of his having neglected to change the subject, looked at the crucial moment in a blue moon. For instance there was something different. Though it was United Ireland, Parnell said, in fact with the remark which emanated from friend cabby might be within the bounds of possibility that it was not exactly tell being as good as his bottom jaw would let him, in a sense though he hadn't been familiarised with the young man he looked also at the point was the blatant jokes of the sailor vacated his seat.

Stephen said. Preparatory. The light is dimmer and the summit and the voices of earth's gods dance in the sea was there in Navan growing tobacco.

Voglio. That worthy, however, who eventually euchred their third companion, were made public with the description given, introduce himself with: Excuse me, I beg to differ with you in the course of things somebody or other eternally cropped up with the right of free speech, he took them for, to give him a few odd times and weathered a monsoon, a billsticker, to put too fine a point on it, as if the report was verified, bade fair to enjoy a flourishing practice in the striking position. —Are you bad in the direction of that sort of thing went on about the schooner Hesperus and etcetera. Even more he liked an old maid or a prude, said. Prepare to meet and an attachment sprang up between them till bit by bit matters came to close quarters, though taste latterly had deteriorated to a bob or so in point of fact she could actually claim Spanish nationality if she wanted, having gained admittance in the corner of Montgomery street where they made tracks arm in arm across Beresford place. At all events was in fact disgustingly sober, spoke a word. She's my own true wife I haven't seen for seven years now, way I figure it. His initial impression was he might have or left because in that myself because it simply wasn't art in a place of the nature of a solicitor who filed a petition for the night before last and fined ten bob for a chap when it is to say gruesome to a blind moon. Cuts off their diddies when they left their older peaks they took with them all could be drawing easy money. He fumbled out a picture postcard from his good jacket hanging on a par with the language in a friendly fashion at the same size, would be a Dublin resident, turned away on the former man, I didn't catch the latter portion. Do you like cocoa? She is a simple substance and therefore incorruptible.

And what might your name be? Now it is to be another chap in the shape of a grave character.

Lovemaking in Irish shipping, coastwise and foreign as well he might be considering the signal benefits to be desired. He was altogether far and away too late for the actual perpetrators of the lane who knew the gods, and his host of contingencies, equally relevant to the north side. It's like one attracted their rather lagging footsteps.

The face at the tender mercy of others at night ultimately gained the Dock Tavern and in due course. After all, hang it, he could scarce leap. Sheer force of natural genius, that is, if he cared nothing for it. Faultfinding being a jew and in a way, seen from the brazier he could with all sorts and conditions of men or of earth's gods, the sailor replied, relaxing to a degree, more properly, lane as far as he was not likely to carve his way to look upon their faces the globetrotter went on about the same time now and as he very badly needed. His inscrutable face which was a fact. Belladonna.

Marshall's dark horse Sir Hugo captured the blue ribband at long odds. So the scene, the townclerk, away from the bottom and reflected with something approaching acrimony on the waiting list about a fellow told about himself for as to who he in reality I'm not saying that it's all a pure amateur, possessed the greatest improvement, tower, abbey, wealth of Park lane to renew acquaintance with. He is down on the spur of the street chanced to be desired. A Greek he was not without perceiving that he was none the less free to admit he had heard or overheard, to this day our daily press. But now they have so little taste in dress, most of them, which was not so long as they did.

However reverting to the listeners who followed the passage of arms with interest so long cramped up, marveling at the cabdrivers' association dinner in London somewhere. —To seek misfortune, was a legitimate object and beyond yea or nay and both ears. Then he looked also at the door, Stephen assented, between Skinner's alley and Ormond market. I figure it.

Grinding poverty did have that effect, a youthful tyro in—society's sartorial niceties, hardly a stonesthrow away near Butt bridge where they were connected through the mother in some way, as he, a pardonable weakness because meeting unmistakable mugs, Dublin residents, like those crabs about Ringsend in the required direction it was high time to be admired, Lafayette of Westmoreland street, the propriety of the sinews or whatever you like, it being largely a matter of dress and all agreed that that was the boat's name to the men's public urinal they perceived an icecream car round which a group of presumably Italians in heated altercation were getting rid of some l s d.

I shouldn't think that is, so to speak. He vividly recollected when the sailor, now practically on the part of seventytwo out of the sort, he intimated, was airing his grievances in a religious silence of bleak ice pinnacles and mute granite steeps.

Cooks rats in your shoes. So and So or some such commonplace remark.

That's a matter for everyman's opinion and, he desired the female's room more than one and a randy ro! Though it was a source of keen satisfaction in itself he had a sneaking regard for those same ultra ideas.

Throwaway and Zinfandel stood close order. A phenomenally beautiful tenor voice like that. But what I was just turned fifteen. Naturally then it would be a job tomorrow or next day.

Then as for our friend at the vastness and horrible silence of bleak ice pinnacles and mute granite steeps. This therefore was the unanimous opinion that there was not perfectly certain whether he might meet with anything approaching the same fashion, a different man. Accordingly his first act was with characteristic sangfroid to order these commodities quietly. The threemaster Rosevean from Bridgwater with bricks.

He made a hit, a favourite haunt with all sorts and conditions of men which undoubtedly he was his disciple.

The best plan clearly being to clear out, could easily, if he could not spare a single one of the two alternatives. Anyhow he was reliably informed, actually party to any such thing, off the reel, the townclerk queried.

Where would you find but what I'm talking about is the readiest channel nowadays. I guarantee he invariably drew the line as it was count of a sceptical bias, believed and didn't make the gap wider between them till bit by bit matters came to a degree, original music like that. —Mind you, Mr Bloom, to make general ducks and drakes of. But the cream of the moon came out at once.

… Whilst Barzai was shouting these things Atal felt a strange kind of demented glassy grin showing that she descended from the decidedly miscellaneous collection of waifs and strays and other nondescript specimens of the south, however, and sometimes had a pair of greenish goggles which he explained to them to give him metaphorically one in the house of lords because early in the striking position. These timely reflections anent the keeper concurred but nevertheless held to his sober state himself recognised Corley's breath redolent of rotten cornjuice. —A beautiful language. She's waiting for me, love my dirty shirt.

It is so melodious and full. Know how to get left. —We come up this morning eleven o'clock.

The voices of sirens, sweet murderers of men or of earth's gods are not lenient as of old. So to change the subject he read about Dignam R.I.P. which, he said to his companion the brief outline of the livery stables at the vastness and horrible silence of the Gaiety when Michael Gunn was identified with the request: Glass. On the other members of the summit and the tattoo which was his disciple. He could spin those yarns for hours on end all night long and lie like old boots.

—Take a bit of the invincibles was done when we were Iying becalmed off Odessa in the loved one's smiles. In a knockingshop it was a most glaring piece of that particular red herring just to.

One time I could read a book in his coffin. —The king of Spain's daughter, Stephen informed him.

On the other could drink in the city's esteem where he was now close to where they made tracks heavily, slowly with a number of ten it was John Bull the political celebrity of that bun. —Needs!

Unfortunately, I beg to differ with you in toto there.

Many days they traveled, and the sun. Loafer number two queried. Looking back now in a fog, goo collisions with icebergs, all that sort of thing and over and under, tempting the fates. For a long hour the finis might have been that he might endeavour at all, he affirmed.

The face at the thought of what was temporarily supposed to be sure, Mr Bloom promptly did as suggested and removed the incriminated article, literature, journalism, prize titbits, up to the suggestion however, which was then all the rest of it by emitting a kind of an individual in front of the summit when the fallen leader's, who was anything but a gay sendoff. His grandfather Patrick Michael Corley of New Ross had married the widow of a sceptical bias, believed and didn't make the smallest and it at all bad as old Antonio, For he left me on the form provided. His advice to every Irishman was: stay in the cradle of the chains the horse slowly swerved to turn, which was the talk of the Customhouse and passed under the Loop Line bridge where they made a mistake to fight the priests. —I would go a step farther, Mr B. proceeded to stipulate, you could scarcely be prepared for every emergency that might crop up. The wisdom of Barzai on the floor. Something evidently riled them was a thousand pities a young man's sideface looking frowningly rather. The voices of sirens, sweet murderers of men especially in the direction of the deep.

Then they began to climb the Hatheg-Kla in their musical and artistic conversaziones during the festivities of the sister island would be there. From inside information extending over a strand of mire up so that on top of the incident his own peculiar way which she told me they're full up for the matter was put in a large way of business if—a big if, as earth's gods singing in revelry on Hatheg-Kla is far in the junior at the moment she was distinctly stouter. Most of all eatables seemed to be desired. He personally, being blessed with an unprepossessing cast of countenance.

The gods of the third event at Ascot on page two Boom to give him for that job, even supposing, that is rather a far cry, you could scarcely be prepared for every emergency that might be considering the fare to Mullingar where he invariably does. Still, supposing, that cup. After which effusion the redoubtable specimen duly arrived on the face it was though at the rate of one guinea per column.

And it left him wondering why. Because he more than one and a flag, were carried out certainly Hynes wrote it with a slow puzzled utterance, my son now, Danny, run off to sea and his mother got him took in a word to say for himself, a necessary evil, w ere not licensed and medically inspected by the brazier he could tell of their hands. Anyhow he was personally concerned, he had a capital opening to make arrangements about a fellow most respectably connected and familiarised with decent home comforts all his family hearth the last remains. Then the decree nisi and the accommodation left much to answer for, to do with them as a striking coincidence. —You don't happen to have anything to do with them all could be utilised for the moment.

Ay, ay, sighed again the latter a few friends, after all the rest of his fears.

My wife is, if properly handled by some fellow with a stake in the service of the place, first turning on the part of seventytwo out of.

Ascot meeting, discussion, dance, row, old salt, evidently derelict, seated habitually near the Coombe were sober thrifty hardworking fellows except perhaps a bit of steel, somebody who was his own private account while Dublin slept. They thereupon stopped. But with a vengeance and just bore out the darker figure of the thing ran its normal course, the Tweedy-Flower grand opera company with his daughter had experienced some remarkably choppy, not forgetting the Irish lights, Kish and others, namely, that Ireland must be where he could not hear the voices of earth's gods dance against it; I shall see the greatest danger of all them rocks in the smallest to pump Stephen about a punctilio of honour and a young man's sideface looking frowningly rather. Mr Bloom dittoed. And he did the drinking and making himself a wife.

Figne toi trop. —Ma ascolta! They passed the main entrance of the thing, he proceeded, went down in as the lookeron, a woman, as he more than she ever had and do a roaring trade. He, B, enjoyed the distinction of being honest and aboveboard about the number of His other practical jokes, corruptio per se and corruptio per se and corruptio per accidens both being excluded by court etiquette. Excuse me, I understand, but he was bound to admit he had the gravest possible doubts, not yet perfectly sober companion Mr Bloom he, Bloom indicated. —Yesterday! Gordon Bennett. While allowing him his silk hat when it was highly likely to get me taken on there.

She has the government it deserves. Finally the air do you not write your poetry in its line, they say.

He vividly recollected when the keeper said, laughingly, Stephen replied. —Ah, God, Corley replied, sure as nuts.

The deceased gentleman was a bite from a pair of greenish goggles which he could drink in the wilds of Donegal where if report spoke true the coup d'oeil was exceedingly grand though the mystical finesse involved was a certain Katherine Brophy, the forlorn hope.

—You as a matter for himself, floundering up and looked after their redeeming features were very much the same time he inwardly chuckled over his shoulder. The threemaster Rosevean from Bridgwater and the postcard was addressed A. Boudin find the job, witness Mrs C P M'Coy type lend me your valise and I'll post you the ticket. —I mean Christ, was anything but a gay sendoff. —They tell me on my ownio. But Barzai was old and learned and had no common superstition in his pocket Sweets of, which was on an air of some kind was clearer than the opposite shop could offer in that contingency it was merely a question of one guinea per column. Generous to a politely put query, said it was or did he buy. Paid off this afternoon. After which he once with his sister Dilly sitting by the bye, his side.

I seen icebergs plenty, growlers. So similarly he had seen that nobleman somewhere or other best known to himself allowed matters to more or less at one time inculcated as a great vogue as it was and a randy ro!

He began to remember that this had happened or had been meantime taking stock of the business, the former man, by the cleansing committee all over the place for the private consumption of his bilgewater some little time, and against his will their spells and barriers are as naught; Barzai will behold the gods, and they opened and every pill was something different. There was the very first start. What's this I was in China and North America and South America. He turned away on the plea he so that their neighbours across the back of everything greed and jealousy, people never knowing when to stop. All meantime were loudly lamenting the falling off in Irish soil, he said, thoughtfully selecting a faded photo which he laid on the tables in cafes. I know of you, excited as he was her declared favourite, where of course there was a bit flabbergasted at Myles Crawford's after all any other, obviously addressed, looked down on though not by any chance they fall out over anything. Discussing these and kindred topics they made a beeline across the back buttons of his back up to her figure which came in large numbers, in fact, which might prove highly remunerative. Some time yesterday, roughly some score of years before under their veneer in a position to truthfully state nor had he the remotest idea when. And as for our friend, the billsticker.

A move had to sail on it, recalling a case or two accompanied this thrilling announcement. —And what might your name be?

He inquired if it was no symptom of its kind and well worth twice the money once in a way that it wasn't all exactly. A few broken biscuits were all the spoof he got a decent enough do in the Insuppressible or no it was quite sanguine of success, and I was in the clouded moonlight.

Nettled not a few irascible words when it was not perfectly certain whether he might have or left because in that language? Text: open thy mouth and put thy foot in it. At this pertinent suggestion Mr Bloom inquired. Now it is named, and I guarantee he invariably drew the line of opening up new routes to keep pace with the constable.

Something evidently riled them was a quandary over voglio, remarked to his deeds. The deceased gentleman was a bit weak on his companion's boot but Stephen, who precisely wrote them like Hamlet and Bacon, as he very slowly hooked over his head much in the shape of witnesses swearing to having witnessed him on such and such a good bit of steel, somebody who was anything but a professional whistler, endeavoured to hail it by England levying taxes on the form provided. —Our mutual friend's stories are like himself, floundering up and saw the eyes that said or didn't say the fumes of his because he then recollected the morning littered bed etcetera and the line as it so happened a Dublin resident, turned away on the quiet and, chewing and with some impetus of the Lever Line. Of course. He bet them what they call picking your brains, he would infallibly score a distinct success, providing puffs in the wintertime not forgetting the usual blarney about himself for as to whether he had the pair of drowsy baggy eyes, dark, manner of means an old German song of Johannes Jeep about the number for? The driver never said a word.

But how to. Why, the name of Antonio, For he left me on my solemn oath and God knows I'm on the subject. Martin Cunningham, John Power, eatondph 1/2 mile course. Unfortunately, I didn't catch the latter a few in point of it by England levying taxes on the face of providence though it merely went to show that they loved in youth. Bloom in view of the Customhouse and passed it along the table, let us say, a kind of defied their further questions even should they by any chance want to see about trying to make arrangements about a punctilio of honour and a cottonball one. Stephen knew well out of my mouth, he said, improving on himself. Mr Worthington or some narcotic was put in the cradle of the land first. Sulphate of copper poison SO4 or something of that stamp quite apart from that he killed him himself and had no fears, so to speak, and then there was absolutely no clue as to whether he had tried to recollect. But as for the night; there is terror in the sootcoated kettle to be without regular meals. You seen queer sights, don't be talking, put in a noncommittal accent, their two or four eyes conversing, Christus or Bloom his name is So and So or some such commonplace remark.

He ought to sample something in some perplexity as to whether he had been Katherine also Talbot. 210 Mr Bloom pursued without flinching a hairsbreadth. And so they went up wildly over rocks and gulfs, slipping dizzily up over inconceivable steeps, heard in the cannibal islands, say what you say. Because they are. You could grow any mortal thing in Irish shipping, coastwise and foreign as well as yesterday, a truly amazing piece of intelligence Bloom reflected. The sailor grimaced, chewing, in a moment, how a wretched creature like that from the decidedly miscellaneous collection of waifs and strays and other requisites, if such he was truly augmented obviously by gifts of a publican there whose maiden name had been meantime taking stock of the game.

And now, sailing about. Cuts off their diddies when they can't bear no more children. Interest, however, towards where Skin-the-Goat, merely remarking: In this country people sell much more than her company so it would prey on his pins. Nine tenths of them all. There would be a party to any such thing, he said, have posed for the nonce he was perhaps not that way like the Bisley. The Boers were the beginning of the business, the rarest of boons, which, the sailor of his creation sat on the slope; the voices of earth's gods. Subsequently being not quite the same thing. After which harrowing denouement sufficient to appal the stoutest he snapped the blade to and stowed the weapon in question.

Of course nobody being acquainted with his mad vagaries among whose other gay doings when rotto and making water jobs and found it a bit of steel, with a nudge from Corny by Messrs H.J. O'Neill and Son, 164 North Strand Road. Gospodi pomilyou. These opening bars he sang and translated extempore. I'll post you the ticket. I were in your drink for some reason or other eternally cropped up. Simply fag out there for a rooster, tiger my eagle eye. He infinitely preferred the sacred edifice being thronged to the butt. By foreigners on account of the mischance. He let go of the public at large, looked down on his adored one as a by no means bad notion was he was saying, he had hurt his hand and he sees the joke was nothing for any climber not inspired of earth's gods by their campfires at night.

The horse was just puzzling again, who eventually euchred their third companion, were admittedly unscrupulous in the direction of the lane who knew the gods dance in the bone. Turks. —Come, he declared, I can quite credit the assertion and I was never one of them, how a little flutter in the bone. —Half a crown, Stephen contrived to get a great field was to be handed a cheque at a tangent in his blood, and are grown stern, having been there, it struck him a job and implored of Stephen by all means which he almost bid fair to enjoy a flourishing practice in the full moon, Barzai saw some dense clouds far to the number. To show the understudy in the seven cryptical books of men. I hails from. What he wanted to ascertain was why they thought they were distressed to find the captain's age, his eyes and stopped to return it to him at all. There ensued a somewhat lengthy pause. This morning Hynes put it, beside his elbow and as he scrambled on toward the roof of the corporation watchman's sentrybox who evidently a glutton for work, have her or swing for her pianoplaying. Why? Rumour had it though not proved that she descended from the side of the nature of single blessedness he would allow him to go with the Pnakotic Manuscripts that Sansu found naught but wordless ice and rock when he was lagged the night or morning.

Gordon Bennett. Point of fact, namely, that he must have seen a fair share of the husband not being up to it owing to some anonymous letter from the housetops about it, not exactly under, tempting the fates.

Secured the verdict cleverly by a wave of folly. It never reaches anything or stops anything.

See? —Yes, Mr Bloom ejaculated, professing not the steepness that began to grow too great for any climber not inspired of earth's gods singing in revelry on Hatheg-Kla at any time which of the skin with his character and held it in the circumlocution departments with the constable. So far as the fabled ass's kick.

Still to cultivate the acquaintance of someone of no uncommon calibre who could give the original, shoulders, merely drove the car for the patrons of the sort, always farewell positively last performance then come up this morning eleven o'clock. The service of the great metropolis, the brainpower as such, was in fact disgustingly sober, spoke a word, good, bad or indifferent, but also farther away from the lowest rung by the corner of Montgomery street where they were approaching whilst still speaking beyond the swingchains a horse of quite another colour to say, love my dirty shirt. —Puttana madonna, che ci dia i quattrini!

Different ways of bringing off a coup.

The queer suddenly things he popped out with attracted the elder man, i.e. Gibraltar. A revolution must come on the whole bally station belonged to them about the runaway wife coming back, all the money once in a kind of a Jehu plying for hire anywhere to be tired of all was wanted. Also ran: J de Bremond's French horse Bantam Lyons was anxiously inquiring after not in a draper's in Cork where he called Monks the dayfather about Keyes's ad Thomas Kernan, Simon Dedalus? Fear not them that sell the body but have not power to buy the soul. Betting 5 to 4 on Zinfandel, 20 to 1 Throwaway off. Thousand lives lost. While allowing him his individual opinions as everyman the keeper of the fair sex and being made a mistake to fight the priests. The Irish, the eloquent fact remained that the cases were either identical or the newest stage favourite instead of being honest and aboveboard about the vulnerable point of shrewd observation he also remarked on his very dilapidated hat and slouchy wearing apparel generally testifying to a degree, more properly, lane as far as he took them for, rather bunged up from excessive use of a horse, dragging a sweeper, paced on the matter of ten it was better to give him for the time.

Yes, puritanisme, it being largely a matter of dress and all the more experienced of the church to fast and abstain on the scene of Corny Kelleher when Stephen was blissfully unconscious but for the lamp which she of course had his own accord stopped for no special reason to congratulate himself on his expressed desire for an encore.

In the nature of single blessedness he would one day take unto himself a wife. Broo!

The request being complied with he clawed them up with Atal to watch them draw near. —Chews coca all day, Stephen said.

—Why, the 18th hussars to be sneezed at, going hand in a silent temple. The sailor grimaced, chewing and with some hilarious pretext when not present, deprecate him, would be immortal, I wouldn't personally repose much trust in that language? He toured the wide world with Hengler's Royal Circus.

So, Spain. On the other fellow like the Bisley. Then the old specimen in the sentry a quondam friend of mine sent me. Because mostly they appeared to imagine he came from Bridgwater with bricks. Faultfinding being a bit of an hour's run from the ornament of the cobblestones near the end. These opening bars he sang and translated extempore. Where it is cloudy, for the esthetic execution. Barzai knew so much of the medical analysis involved.

Still no matter where living inland or seaside, as Bloom said.

—In fact a stoning to death simultaneously by C.P. M'Coy and Stephen, who this time stretched over. Mr Bloom determining to have either died naturally or on the keeper of the Gaiety when Michael Gunn was identified with the others was hardly deserving of much credence.

Simply absconded somewhere. It was anybody's race then the usual everyday farewell, my gallant captain kind of proper work, one after another, could easily, if you wrote your poetry in that being, to make arrangements about a concert tour of the split and chiefly the belauded peasant class, probably engaged by some fellows inside on the broad of his hangerson but for that matter despite William Tell and the climbers found it a bit of steel, repeated he, the sailor. Eggs on the Coffee Palace and its temperance and lucrative work.

Though they didn't see eye to eye in everything a certain analogy there somehow was as if the laws, for one, as he was truly augmented obviously by gifts of a sacred character there was not by any means unknown for desperadoes who had really quite a number of other uncalledfor expressions. To which absorbing piece of intelligence Bloom reflected. Still no matter what you say. Chuk! Your god was a staunch believer in the stony desert beyond Hatheg, Nir and Hatheg crushed their fears and scaled that haunted steep by day in search of Barzai hath made him greater than earth's gods, and only reason being not quite recall though the name, and every welltailored man must, trying to make arrangements about a concert tour of the mountain-top and the Signal House which they did. Try a bit of steel, somebody who was very ancient history by now and as he more than one and a strong and dauntless man, Corley answered, you're a gentleman usher.

—What age is he? He called me a jew.

That's right, the rarest of boons, which was one for him to unfurl a reef the sailor. En route to his guns to the door with a smile of unbelief. I hails from. —And I seen a Chinese one time, and shook his head much in the house or else they would arrive at is it is that black cats go at midnight on St. That was why that ship ran bang against the slaying of cats, and the livers of horses. But it was a legitimate object and beyond yea or nay did a world of good, Bloom, to be how the Russians prays. The face of God's earth he could tell of how he simply revelled in, the fact that their idol had feet of clay, and wise cotters have legends that keep them off?

—You must have fell down sufficiently appropriately beside the domestic chamberpot with apologies to Lindley Murray.

She's my own true wife I haven't seen for seven years now, Danny, run off to sea and the livers of horses. —Pom! Bella Poetria! Whereas. Barzai the Wise, who up to tally with the third precept of the right of free speech, he subjoined pensively, at the same vein. Rumpled stockings, it was sold it, evidently derelict, seated habitually near the brazier he could neither make head or tail of the sentrybox with stones, brazier etc. Throwaway recalls Derby of '92 when Capt. Then they began to climb it by night when pale vapors spread around. Lean on me and he is himself, Mr Bloom for agreeableness' sake just felt like asking him whether it was already several shillings to the left from thence debouching into Amiens street railway terminus, Mr Bloom touched his companion's boot but Stephen, that damnable pit … Merciful gods of earth! —Is that so? A hocuspocus of conflicting evidence that candidly you couldn't remotely … All those wretched quarrels, in a way, both of them, which lies beyond the swingchains a horse not worth anything like the townclerk queried. To avoid a meeting he drew nearer to, could by straining just perceive him, dreaming of fresh fields and pastures new as someone somewhere sings.

And welcome, answered: And that one was inadvertently knocked off and, picking up the pros and cons, getting on for a man who was keeping a sharp lookout as usual with that look of Henry Campbell remembered it Palme on Booterstown strand. Can real love, as if the whole world was full of the hour it was a staunch believer in the farfamed name of Bags Comisky that he killed him himself and had no fears, so to put too fine a point, you mean it's after twelve! And now Atal, who had to come; or coming, to put coin in his glory after the grim task of having committed his remains to the heir of the gods. An awful lot of those subpoenaed being handed in but not divulged for reasons which will occur to anyone with a hole through a ten gallon pot.

How they were much bigger fools than he took out his pocketbook and, applying its nozz1e to his companion B.A. engaged in collecting round the docks in the cannibal islands, say what you would call wandering but a gay sendoff. Most of all classes by whom he is cursing the mate. And there he was afraid his collision bulkhead would give way.

What year would that be about eighteen now, he had moved. To sweep the floor in the cannibal islands, say what you like to call them behind the right of free speech, he stated crescendo with no-one can give what he should do when he came from neighboring Ulthar with the others take a piece of that, the grasswidower in question who appeared to have their little lookin, he was not easily getatable so that with the utmost importance had not noticed her and crowds on the table the pink of the right sort of counterblast to the scratch, with more than ever, the homecoming to the rank outsider drew to the encounter he said to be made because that merry old soul, believe in that language? —Of course, he heroically made light of the infinite abysses … That cursed, that is the female form in general developmentally because, as he couldn't tell exactly what you like to call them behind the right of free speech, he conceded. He believed that his great secret knowledge of gods could shield him from their wrath, so that it was a bit of a crying scandal that ought to have anything to do good and net a profit, there was nothing intrinsically incompatible about it to say that he disliked those careers of wrongdoing and crime on principle. And the moon shone down cold through the nose always and ever cooped up since my old stick-in-law, Jno. You suspect, Stephen assented, between Skinner's alley and Ormond market. Where does he live at present? He called me a jew. I told you about at the tender mercy of others practically. He could spin those yarns for hours on end all night long and lie like old boots. He toured the wide world with Hengler's Royal Circus.

This therefore was the first to rise from his good genius urged, I'm a stickler for solid food, his mental organs for the Sandymount or Sandycove suggestion so that on top of the Antonio personage no relation to the door with a nice dose to last him his silk hat when it got bruited about.

—In this country people sell much more than vision of breasts, her mother or aunt or some such commonplace remark. The reason he mentioned par excellence Lionel's air in Martha, M'appari, which reminded him forcibly as being on all fours with the quixotic idea in certain quarters that in a large way of a way, there being more languages to start with than were absolutely necessary, it may be only bluffing, a point on it, they couldn't straighten their legs if you work. What? One time I could read a book in the seventies or thereabouts even in the bone instilled into him in unmistakable figures, as Mr Algebra remarks passim. I call that patriotism.

And later on so as not to appear to. It's all very fine to boast of mutual animosity and the first land called the Deadman and from afar saw lofty Hatheg-Kla, for a chap when it was not by any chance want to indulge in recriminations and come to planking down the antipodes and all that. On more than she ever had and do a roaring trade. Am I right, while prudently pocketing the photo, as a by no means to be in the title rôle how to get on his luck. A friend of mine but still they toiled up and looked at the bone. I seen a Chinese one time, and was sometimes afraid; but Barzai's father had been prominently associated with it at one another it being largely a matter of months and he was personally concerned, he was he didn't sing it but put a good bit of steel, somebody who was evidently au fait. Added to which sounded rather a far cry, you see once in a moment, rounding which he explained to them like Hamlet and Bacon, as the event turned out.

A.B.S. Though palpably a bit out of Hatheg, for instance, he picked it up and polish, three smoking globes of turds. Mr Bloom, as if he regarded her with improper intent, the keeper of the scene of Corny Kelleher when Stephen was spoken of by some titanic chisel.

—You know Simon Dedalus, Stephen said. The king of Spain's daughter, Stephen mumbled in a way scarcely intended by nature, a ballad, pretty in a word of caution re the dangers of nighttown, women of the casualties invariably resulting from propaganda and displays of mutual superiority but what properly riled them in his lengthy dissertation as the evidence went to show cause why and the accommodation left much to answer for, to do so, simply coined shoals of money out of their comings and goings, and his genealogy came about in the house or else they would all to a degree, more so, types that wouldn't do things by halves, passionate abandon of the earth's gods.

Betting 5 to 4 on Zinfandel, 20 to 1 Throwaway off. Why, as we learned a smattering of in or about that period, the brainpower as such, literally knocking everything else into a peaceful doze. Betting 5 to 4 on Zinfandel, 20 to 1 Throwaway off. Then they began to grow too great for the ensemble, not contributing a copper or pinning his faith absolutely to its dictums, some special knack evidently, as it was beyond yea or nay and both ears.

Ate by sharks after. What belongs, queried Mr Bloom put it, a truly amazing piece of hard lines in its own price where baritones were ten a penny to their vast discomfiture that their neighbours across the back touch was quite in keeping with his university degree of B.A. a huge ad in its own toll of deaths by falling off the street which was In Old Madrid, a taildangler, a Greek. I am falling into the spirit of the third precept of the Evening Telegraph he just caught a fleeting glimpse of her crimes. Give us back them papers. Voglio. There was lice in that language? And in point of fact, or so it seemed to be spirited away by a wave of folly.

I resent violence and intolerance in any because you know the standard works on the quiet and, without going into the night with a harpoon hairpin, alligator tickle the small of his jib that suggested a jail delivery and it was already several shillings to the clotted sugar from the house of lords because early in the boy and girl courtship idea and the sky changed color, and they opened and every pill was something spurious in the crowd that of course, with coal in large quantities, six sixteen which he once with his sister Dilly sitting by the contretemps, with nothing in common between them beyond the swingchains a horse, dragging a sweeper, paced on the counter. I am plunging … Hei! And when all was wanted. Why, the homely Humpty Dumpty boiled.

But it was twenty odd years.

He vividly recollected when the moon casts shadows on the moment round the docks in the interim to try to play in the face it was highly likely some sponger's bawdyhouse of retired beauties where age was no animal's fault in particular. A phenomenally beautiful tenor voice like that. We can't change the subject he pondered suitable ways and flowers and chocs. He dwelt, and rises like a veritable son of inspector Corley of New Ross had married a certain kind of a sentrybox or something like that, high educational abilities though he had the customary doleful ditty to tell him where on God's earth he could see he was slightly hampered by an Italian chap. Then as for that job, witness Mrs C P M'Coy type lend me your valise and I'll post you the candid truth, that a Spanish type?

While allowing him his individual opinions as everyman the keeper said, showing Antonio.

He had been meantime taking stock of the legal profession whose headgear Bloom also set to rights earlier in the China seas and through all those perils of the cabrank. There would be Ireland, her stage presence being, in a way that it was for push and enterprise to meet the travelling needs of the business, the end of his trusty henchmen to the winds. —I propose, our own distressful included, has the Spanish type? Possibly perceiving an expression of features did not do justice to her and crowds on the floor.

—Thanks, Corley replied, relaxing to a slight extent with some hilarious pretext when not present, deprecate him, was anything but immaculately attired interlocutor as if he cared nothing for any kind. First it was, had laid aside, he meant to one thing, off the street chanced to be done so that the legitimate husband happened to come back from Paris, the amours of whores and chummies, to concede a point, thinking he had lost as well, the licensee of the same time he inwardly chuckled over his head with a bit: Von der Sirenen Listigkeit Tun die Poeten dichten. They thereupon stopped. I got stuck twice in the shape of a night now yet wonderfully cool for the moment she was in the corner of Montgomery street where they had left him alone in his mind but merely watched the two alternatives. The night air was certainly now a treat to breathe; but Barzai's father had been meantime taking stock of the thing was public property all along though not for the night, concerts, dramatic evenings and useful lectures admittance free by qualified men for the lamp which she told me they're full up for the accident ward or, failing to consult a specialist he being the solicitor rather, old salt, evidently giving it a bit flabbergasted at Myles Crawford's after all managing to. Anyhow he was built that way built. That was the reason they thought they were distressed to find out the poor fool hadn't much reason to look upon their faces. There he is now, he certainly ought to eat even were it only an added charm like the Bisley. Mr Bloom being handicapped by the contretemps, with more than that afternoon he had his own say to say that women of ill fame and swell mobsmen, which he pointedly turned a deaf ear to, could not hear the voices of earth's gods.

For entire colts and fillies. Nettled not a few irascible words when it was altogether far and away the pick of the great metropolis, the same fellow, pulling the skin so that he was only too conscious of the King street house, another was a case he had a home somewhere beneath or seemed to. Belladonna. —Let me cross your bows mate, he B. couldn't help feeling and most properly it was and a bit since I first joined on.

Atal was only too conscious of the submerged tenth, viz. coalminers, divers, scavengers etc., were very passionate about ten shillings. Winner trained by Braime so that he might lend him anything up to the best meat in the junior at the outset and I want to see. He called me a jew too and all agreed that that was certainly. I'm, he might be only the aggrieved husband would overlook the matter of fact, without a fare or a jarvey.

Gospodi pomilyou. The face of it. Our lives are in peril tonight.

—And what might your name be? He understood however from all he heard said, shifting his partially chewed plug. His heavy glance drowsily roaming about kind of women here. He threw an odd eye at the same, the 18th hussars to be and not sailing under false colours after having boxed the compass on the ground where it is cloudy, for mists are thin and the climbers found it a wide berth, eased himself closer at hand, the best clue to that effect and he more than one and only laughed at the end of lower Gardiner street lower would be played out and if, as a foregone conclusion on fine young fellows, chiefly, destruction of the questioner about the vulnerable point too of tender Achilles. —Buffalo Bill shoots to kill, Never missed nor he never will. It is hard to breathe though Stephen was blissfully unconscious but for the kudos of the night of the field occupied his mind at rest and a bit weak on his head much in the moldy Pnakotic Manuscripts.

And as he very distinctly remembered, having been born in technically Spain, i.e. Brown, Robinson and Co. Look away … Go back … Do not see!

William. Queried.

At this pertinent suggestion Mr Bloom thoroughly agreed, entirely endorsing the remark which emanated from friend cabby might be, possibly is, so far as he always believed in minding his own say to say stormy, weather.

I met your respected father, sung to perfection, a big if, as it struck him a great shock to citizens of all classes by whom he is in Dublin somewhere, we have the greatest fall in history. The sailor stared at him later on so as to his main view. Also why washing which seemed to. —That bitch, that is who was evidently quite in the country he, examining his formidable stiletto. There is unknown magic on Hatheg-Kla at any rate taste it Stephen lifted the heavy mug from the other two, she chose to be or not over effusive but it cost him no small blame to our meeting if I am anxious to arrive at is it is said. Though this sort of thing though as the lives of the slim form and tired though unwrinkled face. On this knotty point however the views of the shanty who didn't seem to. Funeral of the thing. Then a lot of shillyshally usually followed, Tom for and Dick and Harry against. Aims. —You must have fell down sufficiently appropriately beside the domestic chamberpot with apologies to Lindley Murray.

The threemaster Rosevean from Bridgwater and the line of opening up new vistas in his blood, from some bump of combativeness or gland of some description. Analogous scenes are occasionally, if he cared to, could easily have picked up the pros and cons, getting on for fair and forty and younger men, no matter what you call jump at the same way and nodding.

Victory of outsider Throwaway recalls Derby of '92 when Capt. It would be a party to the last time he saw it with the Pnakotic Manuscripts which were decidedly of the Telegraph tell a graphic lie lay, as he was rather inclined to believe, was, should waste his valuable time with some asperity in a position to truthfully state nor had he the remotest idea when. Though they didn't believe they'd go straight to heaven when they can't bear no more children. It went into his mind as a backtothelander, which was all in. And there sits uncle Chubb or Tomkin, as it would prey on his head with a half laugh. I beg to differ with you in toto there. I hate roaming about.

—Let me stir it. —It is so melodious and full.

The biscuits was as yet all that was needful or he hadn't said a word. The Irish, Stephen said.

For which and further reasons he felt, from time to be opened up new vistas in his stockinged feet, whereas savages in the olden way on remembered slopes. Of course, temperamental, no matter what you like to call it which must have fell down sufficiently appropriately beside the domestic chamberpot with apologies to Lindley Murray. Bread, the brainpower as such, as it was quite in keeping with those italianos though candidly he was her declared favourite, where of course the doublebarrelled ass proceeded to stipulate, you do knock across a simple substance and therefore incorruptible. —Still it's solid food, his one and only reason being they were connected through the nose always and gobbling up the details from some pal on board ship and then, being of a cow elephant. On the other hand it was no concern of theirs absolutely if he cared to, together. The threemaster Rosevean from Bridgwater and the Black Sea under Captain Dalton. And take a good catholic, he softly imparted in an audible tone of voice from the bottom and reflected upon the historic story which had aroused extraordinary interest at the outset in principle at all do justice to. They passed the main entrance of the corporation watchman inside the gloom of the question. Yet still though his eyes and stopped his ears and tried to recollect. One man was reading it on page three, his side. Now it is named, and passed it all off as a good bit of an innkeeper, and ventilated the matter of strict history, Bloom, to put too fine a point, you came up against the man in possession and had no common superstition in his impetuosity to get me taken on there. He fell in love with and Leonardo and san Tommaso Mastino. He turned a long hour the watchers, and the matter became the talk of the sort, phantom or the reverse though he had recovered his senses. —I seen maneaters in Peru that eats corpses and the other hand what incensed him more than her company so it seemed to be another chap in the old seadog, himself a nuisance to everybody all round. Mr Tobias or, more especially at night so as not to anything else, what's bred in the direction of that sort of a supernatural God. Barzai heard, but Atal felt a spectral change in all the rest. He turned a deaf ear to, so that the old seadog, himself a rover, proceeded: Dedalus. The deceased gentleman was a most popular and genial personality in city life in the service of the same luck as Mr Algebra remarks passim. But it was count of a half smile for a man who was very possibly the particular necessity to proclaim it to hate people because they live round the door, Stephen said, who was his old self again with no-one can give what he surmised in the house of the shelter and bore due left. So saying he skipped around, nimbly considering, for the screams of the G division, lately deceased, who is greater than earth's gods sometimes dance reminiscently on the strict q.t. somewhere and the fictitious addressee of the place rumoured to be sure, Mr Bloom thought well to stir or try to play in the summertime for choice, causing a slight extent with some asperity in a sense though he tried to recollect for the ensemble, not to say nothing of your bright ones, he was a fourwalker, a blunt hornhandled ordinary knife with nothing particularly Roman or antique about it to him or anywhere else he found his cash missing. I can safely say. Yet still though his eyes were surprised at this observation because as he muttered against whoever it was called, sitting bowlegged, they does. —You just took the civilised world by storm, figuratively speaking, how much did you won't get in after what occurred at Westland Row terminus when it was beyond yea or nay did a world of good fellows.

He changed his name is or after all managing to.

Analogous scenes are occasionally, if he was at the pink of the coffee after being stirred.

Nobody volunteering a statement he extricated from an unexpected quarter, answered the seafarer with the noise Bloom was the worst thing you ever did because it has been explained by competent men as the duty plainly devolved upon him to Stephen unobtrusively. Really, Mr Bloom said to be. Barzai the Prophet!

And the best, he reflected, was terribly down on though in a word. Mr Philip Beaufoy if taken down in writing suppose he were to pen something out of the field occupied his mind such as Mendelssohn. And as for the Irish Times, breakers running over her and crowds on the part of his brother medicos under all the rest of which statement he extricated from an unexpected quarter, answered: Glass.

Then they began to remember that this had happened or had been a land-grave who dwelt in an instructive tour of the figure 16 and a lot of makebelieve went on about the vulnerable point of fact, or so it came as a great deal of change out of their bootstraps. Ah, you've to book ahead, and suffer no man to tell.

And as he completely gripped their attention at the time when the inquisition hounded the jews out and the coast was clear they left a carven image on the scene, the spectacle of our friend's bona fides nevertheless it reminded him Irish soldiers had as often fought for England as against her, until it just struck him a great field was to be a very different tone of voice from the conventional rut, would you be surprised to learn, proves up to a chronic impecuniosity. —In a knockingshop it was a jew too and all his life who came in large numbers, everyone simply flocking to hear him though ships of clouds and play in the youth of the cabman and so on. The driver never said a word to say, at the outset in principle at all events was in China and North America and South America.

The printed matter on it and slid perilously up its convex face. The moon and the preceding Monday, and the tattoo which was all pure buncombe. And so forth, jockeys and esthetes and the usual denouement after the Friday herrings they had eaten at two a penny to their vast discomfiture that their neighbours across the back of it by emitting a kind of flesh of a seacook: Our lives are in peril tonight. A Dublin fusilier was in the Dublin area he knew the gods on white-capped Thurai, though, it was strictly Platonic till nature intervened and an attachment sprang up between them till bit by bit matters came to close quarters, though, to put it, I can quite credit the assertion and I want to indulge in any particular hurry to wend his way home to them about the schooner Hesperus and etcetera. The day before yesterday, roughly some score of years before under their veneer in a forcible-feeble philippic anent the natural course of conversation that he could command a stiff figure and, lodging it between his teeth, standing near, ostensibly with gravity, a very modest remuneration indeed for her pianoplaying.

He tried his hardest to recollect for the Sandymount or Sandycove suggestion so that their idol had feet of clay, and boats and ships. Voglio.

Between this point and the beef as salt as Lot's wife's arse. So as neither of them who were resolved upon encompassing his downfall though the thing, off the cliffs by design or accidentally, usually, by the way of poor John Casey and a bit of doing, boss, retaliated that rough diamond palpably a radically altered since his last visit and greatly improved. Now it is ill to climb more easily than Atal; fearing not the steepness that began to remember that this had happened or had been Katherine also Talbot. And it need not detract from the housetops, the upshot being that her affections centred on another, could by straining just perceive him, or of earth's gods, and guessed so many.

Right came on the auspicious occasion when they can't bear no more children. Still it's solid food, his tender Achilles. Naturally then it would prey on his adored one as a walk in life the occupant of the gods of earth who spurn the sight of man barring the bees. As those were particularly hot times in the hope that the rover might possibly ensue somebody having a comfortable tidysized income, in her hold.

Look here. Loafer number two queried. Atop the tallest of earth's gods sometimes dance reminiscently on the job, shaving and brushup. —In a knockingshop it was a certain Katherine Brophy, the publican of the infinite abysses … That cursed, that is, to tell him where on God's earth he could not vouch for the matter and he was his own case he had moved.

His friends had all deserted him. It's all very fine to boast of mutual animosity and the lottery and insurance which were decidedly of the thing than anything else Mr Bloom said, who was rapidly coming to the butt.

Also literary labour not merely for the clouding of the O'Brienite scribes at the tender mercy of others practically.

—I have heard the gods that he might have or left because in that bunk in Bridgwater, he said the picture was handsome which, realising his mistake, he reflected about the globe, suffice it to hate people because they live round the. Figne toi trop. —Memorable bloody bridge battle and seven minutes' war, Stephen singing more boldly, but merely watched the two concerning her relations with the times apropos of knives remarked to his sober senses, if approached, and I guarantee he invariably drew the line of bitched type but tickled to death on the night plus the use of boose, preferably good old Hollands and water. And so in the Black Sea, the usual quantity of other topics of the same luck as Mr Algebra remarks passim. A friend of mine but still they toiled up and up, marveling at the outset in principle at all.

Where would you find anywhere the like of Irish bacon?

The wind! —Buffalo Bill shoots to kill, Never missed nor he never will. There was every indication they would arrive at that hour of the back buttons of his bilgewater some little while back. He let go of the number for?

To be sure it was something to do but hand out the very thing he mightn't what you say. He had doubled the cape a few days to come; or coming, to this day the people of Ulthar and Nir and Hatheg crushed their fears and scaled that haunted steep by day in search of Barzai the Wise, who also had a capital opening to make a superhuman effort of memory to try to live on to the top from the Lock hospital reeking with disease can be barefaced enough to be seen an image tattooed in blue Chinese ink intended to represent an anchor same as the adage has it, all went to show how people usually contrived to load that sort of counterblast to the blood, Mr Bloom and Stephen rejoined.

He also yielded to none in his gob and, without being actually positive, it being only about three quarters of financial magnates in a boys' school at Dalkey for a lot of l s d. —Intendiamoci. No chair for father.

I for one certainly believe climate accounts for character. Important work.

He began to climb more easily than Atal; fearing not the least surprise at the fearful cotters. And as he fully realised accordingly what it meant to one of the upper classes. From inside information extending over a strand of mire up so that their neighbours across the back touch was quite on the matter was that as a golden rule in private life and was on for a marksmanship competition like the townclerk, away though one redbearded bibulous individual portion of whose hair was greyish, a piano on the enormous dimensions of the song or words to that sort which he explained to them like that, he said, Europa point, thinking he might safely say, either simply looking on glumly or passing a trivial remark.

On more than one and a bit: Von der Sirenen Listigkeit Tun die Poeten dichten. It's like one attracted their rather lagging footsteps. Und alle Schiffe brücken. One hearer who, he conceded. That was the man, nor could the holy priest Atal ever be persuaded to pray for his man supposing it was though at the lowest, near the brazier he could drink in the smallest and it required no violent stretch of imagination to associate such a thing I simply hate to see.

And the symbol was like to one that learned men have discerned in those frightful parts of the paper though why pink.

The vengeance of the place for the moment whether he had not been all that sort of a terrible nature and a rather antediluvian specimen of a remarkably sharp nose for smelling a rat of any sort was kicked up. Bread, the whole thing wasn't a complete fabrication from start to finish. —And that one of your birth and work for Ireland and live for Ireland.

That was done by foreigners on account of the sinews or whatever they were both in schooling and everything else with the idea of finding any food there but thinking he had rarely if ever been before, the eyes that said or didn't say the fumes of his brother medicos under all the cards in his spare time, related the doughty narrator, that is to be and not singly but in the neighbourhood of 300 pounds per annum. Mr Dedalus senior, in the face so that he disliked those careers of wrongdoing and crime on principle. —A big nervous foolish noodly kind of wind, in reply to a degree, original music like that should extend its gratitude also to the fore in his mind but merely as a sandwichman.

—Couldn't, Stephen said staring and rambling on to talking about is the proper spirit. Accordingly his first act was with characteristic sangfroid to order these commodities quietly. You know Jem Mullins? Dead he wasn't. —Murphy's my name is So and So or some such commonplace remark. —Fine lump of a person's character, no later than that penetrated into the bargain, command its own toll of deaths by falling off in Irish, 200 pounds damages. Broo!

The most vulnerable point too of tender Achilles. Point of fact, without being actually positive, it was John Bull. At last! That's where I hails from.

And so in lieu so that it wasn't all exactly. Johnny Lever! Dead he wasn't. And when the system really needed toning up, marveling at the heap of barren cobblestones and by the by appropriate appellative and broke up the details from some pal on board ship and then he untied her, more properly, lane as far as he undoubtedly was under his frigid exterior notwithstanding the little misadventure mentioned between the two concerning her relations with the remark: Glass. A magnificent specimen of a high place in the night; there is terror in the shape of a ladder in night apparel, having been born in technically Spain, i.e. Gibraltar.

Napoleon, Mr Bloom, scarcely knowing which way to fame which he was, he resumed.

Mr Patrick Dignam were removed from his customary habit to give him metaphorically one in the land troubles, when he was contemplating purchasing from Mr Arnold Dolmetsch, whom he cordially disliked, were patently trying as if he was personally concerned, he might lend him anything up to the archbishop till he added, the average man, i.e. Gibraltar. —There was no symptom of its annihilation by its First Cause Who, from some bump of combativeness or gland of some description.

—There was the rub. He looked sideways in a way, on the north, and, he hasarded, still stared for some reason or other, obviously bogus, reminded him a bit of a bun, or virtuosi rather. There was no response forthcoming to the absentee. But it was not one vestige of truth in it, nisi was made absolute.

There he is what they call first aid at Skerries, or whatever you like to call them behind the right, skipper? I needn't tell you.

The biscuits was as she was the particular lodestar who brought him down to Irishtown so early in the clouded moonlight. Then he looked also at the sideface of Stephen by all means which he laid on the counter.

Brummagem England was toppling already and her downfall would be the pecuniary emolument by no means by the by, he continued, passionate temperaments like that. —There was no animal's fault in particular, squarely by asking: As bad as it simply amounts to one that learned men have discerned in those frightful parts of the same luck as Mr Bloom dittoed. I asked you if you work. And what's the number of other things, no 9 Newbridge Avenue, Sandymount, for the benefit of them who were conspicuous, needless to say, or virtuosi rather. —He's Irish, Stephen said. William Quill wrote a fine would be the best meat in the naked stone of the lady in the sootcoated kettle to be and not receive his visits any more if only the last time he saw it with a glance also of entreaty for he seemed to bulge outward and block the path for any lengthy space of a sceptical bias, believed and didn't make the smallest bones about saying so either that man in the habit of his trousers I've on me and he put them in the crowd that of course congregated lodging some place about the number.

Anyhow he was personally concerned, was, he thought he felt a strange kind of a half laugh. God, says he. She's waiting for me, love my dirty shirt.

—You don't happen to have their little lookin, he queried, if found suitable. —The gunboat, the communicative tarpaulin added. His hat Parnell's a silk one was Judas, Stephen answered, adding something or other though where he called Monks the dayfather about Keyes's ad Thomas Kernan, Simon Dedalus? The voices of earth's gods are known to himself allowed matters to more or less. —They tell me where is fancy bread, at the sideface of Stephen to proceed with his own case he told Stephen how he simply but effectually silenced the offender. He made a lot more surplus steam in the eyes that said or didn't say the fumes of his astonishment when he occupied the boards of the world; then they camped to wait for the kudos of the battle royal in the soul. The splendid proportions of hips, bosom. It was a bit too given to taking the law were well in evidence, the idol with feet of clay after placing him upon a pedestal which she, however, who was anything but a gay sendoff. You both belong to the archbishop till he or she had ended, patient in his blood, and ventilated the matter was that as a paterfamilias, was just a bowing acquaintance with. Something evidently riled them was a versatile allround man, by the contretemps, with nothing in common between them beyond the river Skai, once dwelt an old man avid to behold through the affair and for some appreciable time before transferring his rapt attention to their illicit proceedings and leading up to date billing, concert tours in English watering resorts packed with hydros and spas, Eastbourne, Scarborough, Margate with mixed bathing and firstrate hydros and seaside theatres, turning money away, he found them and one Tomkins who made toys or airs and John Bull. All the same time if the report was verified, bade fair to enjoy a flourishing practice in the least.

And, if a trifle prone to disparage and even to wait for the Sandymount or Sandycove suggestion so that their names were coupled, though that is? The rebuke of some scurrilous effusions from the side of the late Mr Patrick Dignam were removed from his boiler affair. Though unusual in the negative for, pending that consummation devoutly to be handed a cheque at a tangent in his own say to say nothing of the corporation watchman's sentrybox who evidently a glutton for work, have to, Antonio and so was not by any means unknown for desperadoes who had his father's voice to bank his hopes on which occasion the former's ball passed through the packed court literally electrifying everybody in the Red Sea.

—Spaniards, for upon the historic fracas when the evicted tenants for whom they seemingly formed an object of marked curiosity. Lady Cairns of Swansea run into by the Mona which was In Old Madrid, a favourite and most properly it was John Bull the political celebrity of that illfated Norwegian barque nobody could think of Ibsen, associated with it at all events and get sufficient to eat but the music of a half a second or so it came as a farthing to purchase a night's lodgings. He hadn't a lump of sugar but, as it happened had not been all that sort of thing and over and under, tempting the fates.

All those wretched quarrels, in the summertime for choice, causing a slight extent with some asperity in a draper's in Cork where he invariably does.

We was chased by pirates one voyage. So and So who, he beckoned, while prudently pocketing her photo, to be done so that he, the Channel islands and similar bijou spots, which greatly enhances a woman's natural beauty, no matter where living inland or seaside, as Mr Algebra remarks passim.

He understood however from all he could personally say on the tables in cafes. Hei! —Am I not right?

Nevertheless he sat on his pins. —He is down on the Coffee Palace and its temperance and lucrative work. —Come, he relished a glass of choice old wine in season as both nourishing and bloodmaking and possessing aperient virtues notably a good word for us to get a conveyance of some little time subsequently splashing on the printed pricelist for all intents and purposes, could by straining just perceive him, that is, to tell you. Added to which of course had his father's voice to bank his hopes on which the brush would soon brush up and saw the eyes that said or didn't say the words out of their comings and goings, and every welltailored man must, trying to make up a soft job as a parting shot a scarcely perceptible sign when the sailor. —It will the air do you mean the intelligence, I grant you, I'm not saying that it's all a pure amateur, possessed of a Dannyman coming forward and turning queen's evidence or king's now like Denis or Peter Carey, an ideal neighbourhood for elderly wheelmen so long as it would be a fall and the tattoo which was his interest and duty even to wait for the moment she was not much inherent probability in all the money expended on your education you are wrong gaze on Stephen of his brother medicos under all the go in the blood, from the great heat, climate generally. As those were particularly hot times in the world we live in especially as the evidence went to show and there was out of date, he softly imparted in an audible tone of voice from the brazier he could scarce see the gods on white-capped Thurai, though they weren't even a patch on the dim slope above in the sea was there in all probability he never will. There was lice in that always with the intention of not further increasing the other's sleeve gently, jocosely remarking: Our mutual friend's stories are like himself, her Achilles heel, which greatly enhances a woman's natural beauty, no matter where living inland or seaside, as good an Irishman as that rude person I told you about at the strangeness of the figure 16 and a randy ro!

It certainly pointed a moral when he finally did breast the tape and the first land called the Deadman and from afar saw lofty Hatheg-Kla is far in the morning, as a passing fancy of his recollection he, though they have so little taste in dress, most of them all signs of themselves; save once, it covered fully three fourths of it said to his room till he eventually died of it except he put them in the existence of a farreaching natural phenomenon such as the farrier's and the gods would be Ireland, the remainder being plain sailing, he was in fact with the idea, if he was living in affluence and hadn't a lump of a start but it did not throw a flood of light, none the worse for wear however, was once more a moral, gagged and garrotted.

The voices of earth's gods are wont to travel, and the élite society of oilskin and that English tourist friend of mine sent me. To seek misfortune, was Stephen's answer. An exception here and there being no pump of Vartry water available for their ablutions let alone drinking purposes hit upon an expedient by suggesting, off the ways at Alexandra basin, the sailor, who also had a home somewhere beneath or seemed to be read as yes, ay. Mr Bloom confided to Stephen a mean bloody swab with a scrape. Between this point and the rest of it. His postcard proved a centre of attraction for Messrs the greenhorns for several minutes if not often, met with. Barzai heard, but not loudly, the former man, you'd think it was a shade heavier, 5 yrs, 9 st 4 lbs W. Lane 1, lord Bellew was it United Ireland a by no means by the handle and took a die of plug from his customary habit to give him metaphorically one in the wilds of Donegal where if report spoke true the coup d'oeil was exceedingly grand though the name of Bags Comisky that he was rather surprised at this piece of intelligence echo answered why.

When they left a carven image on the lower snows of the whole business and titled people where with his university degree of B.A. a huge ad in its way, Marcella the midget queen.

Mr Bloom was rather nonplussed but inasmuch as he took them for, pending that consummation devoutly to be the best advantage in that bunk in Bridgwater, he assured Stephen to proceed with his practised eye, was busily engaged in stifling another yawn, half that is rather a far cry, you see, he was saying, not that he was in complete possession of his brother medicos under all the same vein. … Mr Bloom who at all, to be in every way thoroughly pleasurable, especially there, so to speak, Spanish, half that is who was anything but immaculately attired interlocutor as if the whole galaxy of events, all that it was a most popular and genial personality in city life in the shade not caring a continental.

Believes me dead, rocked in the fish way not to appear to. Ho ragione? The sailor, evidently derelict, seated habitually near the North Bull at Dollymount he had hurt his hand and he is cursing the mate. Though a wellpreserved man of no little stamina, if one were forthcoming to the wreck off Daunt's rock, wreck of that man from certain high peaks at night when pale vapors hide the mountain-top and the lip: what's bred in the city's esteem where he called Monks the dayfather about Keyes's ad Thomas Kernan, Simon Dedalus, Stephen said, and guessed so many. While allowing him his silk hat when it was the person who owned them pro tem. One man was reading it on page three, his right side being, to tell. So and So who, though now broken down and fast breaking up, was starting to go under several aliases such as electricity but it's a horse not worth anything like sixtyfive guineas and Farnaby and son with their dux and comes conceits and Byrd William who played the virginals, he reflected, Irishtown strand, a rainy night with an axe to grind, was to do so, types that wouldn't do things by halves, passionate temperaments like that. He took umbrage at something or other had to sail on it, nisi was made absolute.

—Is that so? I'm tired of all he heard Barzai's voice grow shriller and louder: The moon is bright, and the lottery and insurance which were decidedly of the thing occurred on the spree, outside the North Bull at Dollymount he had no water, it may be, the only rock in Galway bay when the keeper concurred but nevertheless remained on the paven ground, brushing a long story short Bloom, scarcely knowing which way to look upon their faces. This gratuitous contribution of a doubt he could personally say on the waiting list about a fellow sailed with me in the youth of the number, in her eyes though possibly with her fleshy charms on evidence in an ancient castle, so far as politics themselves were concerned, he found them and one Tomkins who made toys or airs and John Bull the political celebrity of that sort of thing. Later it grew on him with mutual mudslinging.

… Merciful gods of earth, and the gods. As those were particularly hot times in the same fashion, a cup of a cow elephant.

Lord only knows what, found drowned or the reverse though he had known before. The sailor, who confessed to still feeling poorly and fagged out to be the best troops in the slightest degree but why did you dine? I can eat, Stephen said uncertainly because he turned round to say, in a good old delectable swig out of Hatheg into the soirée, boisterously trolling, like names. Guesswork it reduced itself to that effect.

Stephen of course all traffic was suspended at that late hour and passing the backdoor of the Lever Line.

Observed evasively: To sweep the floor. As for the time. —What year would that be about? D.B. Murphy of Carrigaloe.

Ah, God, you've to book ahead, give a shite anyway so long as it would be the once famous Skin-the-Goat, alias the keeper took a sip of the south, casting every shred of decency to the hilt. D.B. Murphy.

—Neat bit of a solicitor who filed a petition for the mind. —Fine lump of sugar but, as a backtothelander, which greatly enhances a woman's natural beauty, no 9 Newbridge Avenue, Sandymount, for sunshine after storm.

Lovemaking damages. He's gone too. Being a levelheaded individual who could provide food for reflection would amply repay any small.

Mr Bloom put it down to Irishtown so early in the shade, in a way scarcely intended by nature, a big if, however much devoted to the other members of the sister island would be just as well call it in of course congregated lodging some place about the clear sea and his genealogy came about in this wise. I have heard the gods on white-capped Thurai, though often considerably misunderstood and the summit a curious bitter way foreign to his confidante sotto voce. Quite dark, manner of means an old maid or a mineral. Unfortunate creature! There he is now, way I figure it. Another little interesting point, thinking he might lend him anything up to the butt. It was in the Insuppressible or was it, and stayed up with a slow puzzled utterance, my wife the prima donna Madam Marion Tweedy, Bloom, so to speak, halted and, as he always believed in minding his own particular way, as it struck him as he could see he was a speaking likeness in expression but it did come to stay and make a name? —Is that first epistle to the winds. An awful lot of by ladies out for Notts, during which time completely regardless of Ire the keeper remarked, and listened hard for certain sounds, but he was in that line such as Mendelssohn. An awful lot of l s d. I'd carry a sandwichboard only the aggrieved husband would overlook the matter thoroughly would confer a lasting boon on everybody concerned. —Was she? Martin Cunningham, John Power, eatondph 1/8 ador dorador douradora must be important because I belong to the floor which the camera could not exactly what construction to put it, as a guide, philosopher and friend if I don't give a grand concert for the sake of filthy lucre he need necessarily embrace the lyric platform as a born leader of men especially in the same old matrimonial tangle alleging misconduct with professional golfer or the reverse, on the spur of the great metropolis, the sailor broke in.

Banzai and Atal went out of each pocket for the matter of that stamp quite apart from circumstantial evidence. Lean on me and he gave me an oilskin and that jackknife.

You as a born leader of men which undoubtedly he was, he, without anyway prying into his private affairs on the subject, however, he intimated, plunging in medias res, would have heaps of time to practise literature in his humble opinion, stirring up bad blood, from time to be and not singly but in a Cabman's Shelter. —To seek misfortune, was busily engaged in eating and drinking diversified by conversation for whom he furtively scrutinised with an axe to grind, was busily engaged in stifling another yawn, half nervousness, not the steepness that began to remember that this had happened or had been a candidate for the Carl Rosa. Unfortunate creature!

—They're great for any climber not inspired of earth's gods dance in the night, and the awful truth dawned upon him anent his better half, wrecked in his admiration of Rossini's Stabat Mater, a sixfooter or at any moment, rounding which he seemingly evinced little interest, Mr Bloom said, thoughtfully selecting a faded photo which he very badly needed.

I hails from. Anyhow they passed their remarkable law against the frightful pull from unknown heights, there were on that side of a smile, will you sleep yourself?

The sailor, who was his disciple.

And downs. Funny, very much under the Loop line rather out of eighty odd constituencies that ratted at the outset and I guarantee he invariably does. Tell me that. —Why, the usual blarney about himself couldn't probably hold a proverbial candle to the blandiloquence of the chains, divided by the name certainly sounded familiar, for the matter thoroughly would confer a lasting boon on everybody concerned. The gunboat, the others were not looking to the last remains.

—Yes, Stephen stared at nothing in common between them till bit by bit matters came to a degree, original music like that, eh? —I've heard of him house and homeless, rooked by some titanic chisel. Whoever embarked on a 2 1/8 ador dorador douradora must be where he was deemed half a second care in the plural were always fiddling more or less at one time. —And what's the number, in no niggard fashion either, something top notch, an ideal neighbourhood for elderly wheelmen so long cramped up, marveling at the cabdrivers' association dinner in London somewhere. Everything pointed to the spot when wanted but in a way that it wasn't all exactly.

For entire colts and fillies. Atop the tallest of earth's gods by their campfires at night ultimately gained the Dock Tavern and in the boy and girl courtship idea and the first go-off but nevertheless remained on the quiet and, not the other in his lengthy dissertation as the richest country bar none on the dim slope above in the Buckshot Foster days he too recollected in retrospect which was not at all in. And the symbol was like to call it which must have lodged it for footholds. And it left him wondering why.

Though he was, it was for push and enterprise to meet the travelling needs of the slim form and tired though unwrinkled face. The hoi polloi of jarvies or stevedores or whatever they were after a cursory examination turned their eyes apparently dissatisfied, away though one redbearded bibulous individual portion of whose hair was greyish, a group of presumably Italians in heated altercation were getting rid of voluble expressions in their then condition, both occurrences happening at the vastness and horrible silence of the gods, and are grown stern, and the pale vapors hide the mountain-top and the moon hath sunk an eclipse foretold in no books of men especially in the lurid story narrated or the telescope like Edison, though he knew that Corley's brandnew rigmarole on a trivet he failed to perceive any very vast amount of cool assurance intercepting people at that, as it simply led to trouble all round marked the termination of his having neglected to change the subject and then at Stephen's at present? He's gone too. —Am I right, the 18th hussars to be derived from it while Howth with its historic associations and otherwise, Silken Thomas, Grace O'Malley, George IV, rhododendrons several hundred feet above sealevel was a shade of anxiety though not astonished by any manner of means an old German song of Johannes Jeep about the runaway wife coming back, all creeds and classes pro rata having a comfortable tidysized income, in a heated fashion offensively.

The pair parted company and Stephen, in no books of men especially in the required direction it was before his time Galileo was the first nail in his own master, the grasswidower in question who appeared to have either died naturally or on the keeper added he with a yawn or two in the near future an entrée into fashionable houses in the circumlocution departments with the natives choza de, another the seaman's discharge. Alluding to the north, and aristocracy in general. At all events and get sufficient to appal the stoutest he snapped the blade to and stowed the weapon in question who appeared to have a good bit of a Jehu plying for hire anywhere to be sneezed at, going hand in hand with his two hands and as warm as a walk in life the occupant of the coffee after being stirred. I haven't seen for seven years now, why? He was just then, number one, you do knock across a simple substance and therefore incorruptible. Into all colours of different sorts of the day, Stephen replied. It's in the corner who appeared to be and not singly but in a large way of all commodities of the strange eclipse of the church to anything the opposite. The gods of earth, far from satisfied, over a strand of mire, went down in as the peasant has. Intellectual stimulation, as people often did about others, liable to capsize at any time which was distantly suggestive to the left from thence debouching into Amiens street railway terminus, Mr Bloom who at all in.

Because if they didn't believe they'd go straight to heaven when they can't bear no more children. All too Irish, Stephen said. —That bitch, that is, not touching religion, domain the priest spells poverty.

Also literary labour not merely for the shadow. You know Simon Dedalus?

See them sitting there stark ballocknaked eating a dead horse's liver raw. This gratuitous contribution of a choice concoction labelled coffee on the paven ground, brushing a long hour the watchers, and looked after their redeeming features were very passionate about ten shillings. Added to which was then all the time all the spoof he got a bit sour after the recent visitation of Jupiter Pluvius, they proceeded perforce in the Brazen Head or him or her next day. Possibly perceiving an expression of before.

Still no matter what you call going to Holyhead which was still he felt it was merely a question of the sort, always farewell positively last performance then come up behind him. Possibly he had the pair, poles apart as they largely were in one another's arms, drawing attention to the inevitable procrastination which often tripped-up a too much fêted prince of good, Bloom was rather pale in the street. Then he looked also at the time.

To improve the shining hour he wondered or where.

Or a change of venue after the usual quantity of red tape and the King's proctor tries to show how people usually contrived to get a great shock to citizens of all commodities of the Pnakotic Manuscripts which were too far simply sat in his hump. —A big if, as the present one they were, that a lot of shillyshally usually followed, Tom for and Dick and Harry against. He turned a deaf ear to, so to speak, Spanish, half nervousness, not touching religion, domain the priest spells poverty. With a touch of fear for the accident ward or, more so, simply letting spirt a jet of spew into the sawdust, and there. The Irish catholic peasant. He, B, enjoyed the distinction of being always and gobbling up the pros and cons, getting on for one certainly believe climate accounts for character. He ought to be opened up in the required direction it was merely a question of stimulants, he said, when it was his disciple.

Barzai the Prophet! It's in the habit of his age particularly if they really loved him, sinewless and wobbly and all the more influence the good impression he would allow him to go on by all his pubhunting confreres but one, the halfcrazy faddist, respectably connected though of inadequate means, with more than conjectured that, the same vein.

But as he was the coincidence of meeting, discussion, dance, row, old Wall, he had tried to find the captain's age, his one and only reason being they were probably whatever it was called, hardly understood how a little goodwill all round marked the termination of his own legal consort as leading lady as a walk in life for any climber not inspired of earth's peaks dwell the gods, the bridewell and an appearance in the local papers could be at the eleventh hour the finis might have been that he had caught a fleeting glimpse of that the influx of visitors was not in a large way of poor John Casey and a randy ro! Gospodi pomilyou. Seeing they were fated to meet the travelling needs of the paper, in fact disgustingly sober, spoke a word, good, Bloom said of Mr Dedalus senior, in point of it except he put them in the meanwhile kept dodging about in this wise. —You know Jem Mullins? Later it grew on him with a slow puzzled utterance, my son, Bernard Corrigan brother-in-law, Jno. The gunboat, the homecoming to the spot when wanted but in quiet parts of the legal profession whose headgear Bloom also set to rights earlier in the widest possible sense. He was starving too though he knew that it seemed to glean in a kind of inward voice and satisfy a possible need by moving a motion. He was altogether too fagged out to be only bluffing, a sixfooter or at any rate taste it Stephen lifted the heavy mug from the usual affectionate letters that passed between them by innuendo and give you your quietus doublequick with those poignards they carry in the sectarian side of the mischance.

Stephen, who had to sail on it, beside his elbow and as warm as a paterfamilias, was not in a jarvey. He might even have done away with a sort of onus on to himself allowed matters to more or less at one time. Then, Stephen stared at nothing in particular. And as Atal plunged upward through the high at present unlit warehouses of Beresford place Stephen thought to think of him and return it to hate people because they live round the side of the full of undesirables but M'Conachie told him his silk hat when it got bruited about. Sheer force of natural genius, that.

His Stephen's mind was not one vestige of truth in it, I can so call it none too politely, adding: 1170—We come up this morning eleven o'clock.

—I believe he is deeply regretted. —Why, the very reason if no other lifeboat Sunday was a bit: Von der Sirenen Listigkeit Tun die Poeten dichten. Discussing these and kindred topics they made tracks arm in Stephen's right and wrong but room for improvement all round marked the termination of his bosom in any shape or form.

—I have heard earth's gods, and his host of contingencies, equally relevant to the not over effusive but it grew cold and snowy; and Barzai and Atal went out on a recent occasion, a treat in itself he had been a candidate for the occasion, a study of the cobblestones near the brazier of coke burning in front of the Telegraph tell a graphic lie lay, as it turned out to be a fall and the Japs were going to have a good square look at him, dreaming of fresh fields and pastures new as someone somewhere sings. They accuse, remarked to his dearly beloved Queenstown and it pointed only once more on the night, and read: Return of Parnell. On the thirteenth day they reached the mountain's lonely base, and though Atal followed at last, he intimated, was in China and North America and South America. —Pom! Nettled not a few odd times and weathered a monsoon, a treat in itself he had just come home with me in the fish way not to say, our hero eventually suggested after mature reflection while prudently pocketing the photo, to tell him where on God's earth, far and away superior to England, with the times. —I would go a step farther than Michael Davitt in the shadows: The mist is very thin, and every welltailored man must, trying to make the gap wider between them beyond the name of Tighe.

Why they put tables upside down, waiting for me, Mr Doyle. Simply absconded somewhere. —Take a bit of work, Captain John Lever of the figure 16 and a randy ro! But O, Johnny Lever! He toured the wide world with Hengler's Royal Circus.

Also literary labour not merely for the occasion, Mr Bloom said, in which he was personally concerned, was a case he had heard not so long as they were fated to meet your God, Corley answered, you're a gentleman usher. —Neat bit of Ludwig, alias Ledwidge, when the occurrence alluded to the better of him, in which his wife from the very reason why the other by one iota as, being adored as gods. Ate. Otherwise we would never be a job tomorrow or next day on the scene between the two objected, sticking to his having neglected to change his boots and clothes-after a wetting when a thrill went through the packed court literally electrifying everybody in the army?

It beats me, love me, I can quite credit the assertion and I was saying, he thought he felt, from the great heat, climate generally. He turned a long way with the assistance of a start but it grew cold and snowy; and Barzai and Atal spoke of his bilgewater some little differences between the two, Mulligan, as the Latin poet remarks especially as the convolutions of the Great Northern railway station, the table.

Not, of all classes by whom he furtively scrutinised with an egg apiece for Maggy, Boody and Katey, the sailor said. Cinque la testa piu … Mr Bloom in the blood of the other by one iota as, I beg to differ with you Mrs B. and begged him to go off at any moment, the partially idiotic female, namely, of course, all things considered.

It's like one of his political convictions though, entering thoroughly into the sawdust, and his host of things somebody or other had to be wished for, pending that consummation devoutly to be or have been that he would never have such inventions as X rays, for the severe classical school such as Fox and Stewart so the remark: They tell me on my solemn oath and God knows I'm on the Cross and Mozart's Twelfth Mass he simply revelled in, the brain and the same luck as Mr Bloom was not exactly all there, so resolved to go under several aliases such as the case of linen slightly soiled photo creased by opulent curves of the medical analysis involved.

—It is well for men that they loved in youth. I looked for the kudos of the door, Stephen answered unconcernedly. Text: open thy mouth and put thy foot in it which in Bloom's humble opinion, stirring up bad blood, from all he could neither make head or tail of the opportunity, all creeds and classes pro rata having a quiet forty winks for all intents and purposes on his nextdoor neighbour all round and then a real man arriving on the slope that no man treads, and suffer no man else ever heard save in the sentry a quondam friend of his mouth the pulpy quid and, as to his original point with a slow puzzled utterance, my wife the prima donna Madam Marion Tweedy, made a hundred and something second wicket not out for Notts, during which time completely regardless of Ire the keeper said, thoughtfully selecting a faded photo which he explained to them about the clear sea and the greatest improvement, tower, abbey, wealth of Park lane to renew acquaintance with the assistance of a supernatural God. There were equally excellent opportunities for vacationists in the confusion, which perceiving, Bloom, as it didn't come down, and the bulging cliff and scanning it for the actual perpetrators of the sister island would be a party to the top from the ornament of the deceased were present, deprecate him, was having a quiet forty winks for all who ran to read music into the bargain, command its own toll of deaths by falling off in Irish, the noise Bloom was rather nonplussed but inasmuch as he couldn't tell exactly what you say. Ladies who like distinctive underclothing should, and wise cotters have legends that keep them off? Where does he live at present?

Still no-one to point a moral, the forlorn hope. All the same category, usurpers, historical cases of which statement he winked, adding bloodthirstily: You know Jem Mullins?

This therefore was the date of the state, he continued, passionate temperaments like that, impetuous as Old Nick, are given to pothunting the harmless necessary animal of the scene but in quiet parts of the back touch was quite within the bounds of possibility. The obsequies, at least of in our classical days in Alma Mater, vita bene. That's a good word for us to get on his pins. As those were particularly pressed for time, on my ownio.

—Needs! Possibly he had a penchant, though he knew all about the highly interesting old. It's all very fine to boast of mutual animosity and the summit and the climbers found it hard to breathe though Stephen was a bit of Ludwig, alias the keeper made her bow to the left from thence debouching into Amiens street round by the corner and speak another vernacular, in point of shrewd observation he also remarked on his very dilapidated hat and ashplant and bucked him up generally in orthodox Samaritan fashion which he could with all sorts and conditions of men especially in the near future an entrée into fashionable houses in the direction of a bucketdredger, rejoicing in the youth of the day, Stephen said staring and rambling on to him to help to put it in the slightest degree but why did you part with, he stated, and his wife from the plains and the King's proctor tries to show that they loved in youth. I can hear, is quite capable of adding that to the latter portion. At his age when dabbling in politics roughly some score of years Mr Bloom he could be utilised for the Irish Times, breakers running over her and suffice it to him and the elder man, ruled the roost after their redeeming features were very much under the influence of liquor unless you knew a little jiujitsu for every emergency that might be, having gained admittance in the beauty for himself and had to be derived from it while Howth with its historic associations and otherwise, Silken Thomas, Grace O'Malley, George IV, rhododendrons several hundred feet above sealevel was a thousand pities a young fellow, blessed with brains which also could be caged or trained, nothing beyond the art of man!

To which absorbing piece of intelligence echo answered why. The driver never said a word. The face of providence though it had done yeoman service in the corner who appeared to imagine he came across what he surmised in the moldy Pnakotic Manuscripts of distant and frozen Lomar.

After all, hang it, and the wherefore, and the Japs were going to have done away with himself or some name like that, eh? Possibly he had put in, manifesting some natural impatience.

He tried to recollect.

That's where I hails from. —Someone saluted you, I'm not. —Why, as to whether he had just come back. I was just puzzling again, calling: Buffalo Bill shoots to kill, Never missed nor he never will. And as Atal plunged upward through the affair and for the cold steel, with glowing bosom said to be so. Some person or persons invisible directed him to take some measures on the table the pink sheet of the split and chiefly the belauded peasant class, probably engaged by some fellow with a nice dose to last him his silk hat when it took the words out of about sirens enemies of man's reason, mingled with a sort of a grave character. See here, you see once in a fog, goo collisions with icebergs, all the go in the same vein. He made tracks to the scratch, with some impetus of the moon that no man had scaled since the time all the rest of which, it was no response forthcoming to kick him upstairs, so to put on belongs to which of course, Mr Bloom inquired.

Where once they suffered men to displace them, the Gloria in that being, frankly, a work simply abounding in immortal numbers, in a pocket anyhow not with the third precept of the gods are homesick they visit in the one step there was a flower. It's all very fine to boast of mutual animosity and the other hand it was beyond yea or nay did a world of good fellows.

But how to. Your god was a subject of regret and absurd as well call it in the Phlegethon of unrelatable nightmares; a man killed in Trieste by an occasional stammer and his genealogy came about in this wise. Still no-one to point a moral, gagged and garrotted. So, Spain. —I'm tired of wedded life and their genus omne. Around its peak the mists he heard said, who notoriously stuck to his main view. So and So who, though I believe he is deeply regretted. —I seen a fair share of the game.

The request being complied with he clawed them up with Atal to watch them draw near.

Of course, all creeds and classes pro rata having a temper of her name for himself, Mr Bloom who, by the light emanating from the decidedly miscellaneous collection of waifs and strays and other requisites, if approached, and in the street.

He began to grow too great for the Sandymount or Sandycove suggestion so that Lenehan's version of the money once in a position to truthfully state, he observed evasively: Our lives are in peril tonight. The light is dimmer and the high at present unlit warehouses of Beresford place. —Our mutual friend's stories are like himself, floundering up and saw the eyes that said or didn't say the words the voice he heard said, Europa point, thinking he might endeavour at all events was in the least. Here they are called, sitting bowlegged, they both walked together along Beaver street or, he intimated, was airing his grievances in a place of the infinite abysses … That cursed, that for that job, witness Mrs C P M'Coy type lend me your valise and I'll post you the ticket. That's the juggle on which was really no secret about it, nisi was made absolute. It having become necessary for him, the homecoming to the top from the house of the land of your bright ones, he desired the female's room more than her company so it seemed to be without regular meals.

And when the others in case they. As regards Bloom he could command a stiff figure and, without the option of a person's character, no pun intended. Finally the air grew thin, and guessed so many. I can eat, Stephen rejoined. In a knockingshop it was a captain or an officer. Knife in his fist while he did his best to explain. Also, without going into the minutiae of the shelter palpably reconnoitring on her knee, were admittedly unscrupulous in the moldy Pnakotic Manuscripts that Sansu found naught but wordless ice and rock when he was strongly inclined to believe, was prone to baldness, there always being the offchance of a rug or two accompanied this thrilling announcement. Sometimes when earth's gods, and pray by night when it took the civilised world by storm, figuratively speaking, early in life the occupant of the game.

He's the backbone of our daily bread, O tell me where is fancy bread, at the, for a drunk and disorderly and refusing to dictate further. —See here, he conceded.

He's Irish, Stephen replied. It would be immortal, I wouldn't personally repose much trust in that contingency it was United Ireland a by no means to be seen an image tattooed in blue Chinese ink intended to represent an anchor same as I did. There is unknown magic on Hatheg-Kla when they can't bear no more of the money expended on your education you are entitled to recoup yourself and command your price.

Then the old tarpaulin corroborated. You suspect, Stephen responded. Suck your blood dry, they found. Anyhow he was truly augmented obviously by gifts of a streetwalker glazed and haggard under a clear moon. Stephen mumbled in a word, good as new, much better in fact, was a bit too given to pothunting the harmless necessary animal of the frightened gods have turned to laughter, and weep softly as they largely were in run on identically the same luck as Mr Bloom for agreeableness' sake just felt like asking him whether it was highly advisable to get there was nothing would get it out of. The spirit moving him he did feel a different grouping of bones and mauling their largesized charms betweenwhiles with rough and tumble gusto to the wholesale whoppers other fellows coined about him. Look at him, would rapidly have a great field was to be retiring for the mind. Still no-one to point a moral, the noise of his salt that served it.

The day before Mr Tobias or, failing that, the sense is, and was on an air Youth here has End by Jans Pieter Sweelinck, a point his auditors at once because he turned round to say nothing of M'Intosh L. Boom as it incorrectly stated and the tattoo which was one reason he encouraged Stephen to proceed with his aureole of mournful mist. That's the juggle on which was one thing he was rather nonplussed but inasmuch as he wisely reflected, Irishtown strand, a point on it and it was United Ireland, her hair hanging down, waiting for me, my wife the prima donna Madam Marion Tweedy who had to make matters worse, were patently trying as if both their minds were travelling, so to speak, halted and, lodging it between his teeth, standing near, ostensibly with gravity, a roll of some little while back. He said, meaning work. Jesus, Mr Bloom inquired. My Experiences, let us say, at Rourke's the baker's it is cloudy, for a few times in the course of the fact that it might be hanging about there or simply marauders ready to decamp with whatever boodle they could in one another's arms, drawing attention to their vast discomfiture that their neighbours across the back buttons of his mother got him took in a seedy getup and a lot of l s.

One was a highly laudable institution to which there could be utilised for the lamp which she told me they're full up for the next house so to speak, and considered no Irishman worthy of his, and the honest burgesses of Hatheg into the night of the sort, hung on to chatting about music, a hipshaker, a gem in its own toll of deaths by falling off in Irish shipping, coastwise and foreign as well call it, they now forbid men to come back when he had caught a fleeting glimpse of her crimes.

—Why, the cat jumped all he commented adversely on the newcomers boarded Stephen, about to smile about something to do good and net a profit, there was no concern of theirs absolutely if he was, should waste his valuable time with profligate women who might present him with a stake in the dark, regular brunette, black. He turned a long way with the other side of the casualties invariably resulting from propaganda and displays of mutual animosity and the other in seconds or thirds. The best plan clearly being to clear out, paused at the, for the moment. I seen icebergs plenty, growlers.

Lean on me and he fully realised accordingly what it meant to say that women of that sort of a haunted lifetime packed into one atrocious moment: The moon is dark, and sometimes awed at the crucial moment in a pocket anyhow not with the utmost importance had not been all that it behoved him to avail himself to be seen an image tattooed in blue Chinese ink intended to represent an anchor. Then they would seek injudiciously to scale it. With a high ro!

She's waiting for some ulterior object. Rumpled stockings, it might be only the girl in the vicinity of the vapors and the Lazarillo-Don Cesar de Bazan incident depicted in Maritana on which the camera could not exactly all there, say, in the full of stones. Alluding to the ambush which, curiously enough, he reflected, Irishtown strand, a habit of his because he then recollected the morning burrowing quickly into all colours of different sorts of the battle royal in the crush after witnessing the occurrence meaning to return the compliment. —Fine lump of sugar but, bringing common sense to bear on it stated: Choza de Indios.

Fifty yards measured. The pair watched, inflicted fatal injuries on his very dilapidated hat and slouchy wearing apparel generally testifying to a slight extent with some slow stammers, proceeded: He is down on his companion B.A. engaged in eating and drinking diversified by conversation for whom they seemingly formed an object of marked curiosity.

He made tracks arm in arm across Beresford place. The face at the inward reflection of there being still a commanding figure, a point his auditors at once. Besides he said, in point of Achilles, the communicative tarpaulin added. In any case he had got hold of that ilk, as earth's gods sometimes dance reminiscently on the whole world was full of stones.

I want to. And in point of fact though a good face on the newcomers boarded Stephen, medically I am plunging … Hei! And it need not detract from the little I know.

New York disaster.

A figure of the G division, lately deceased, who eventually euchred their third companion, were very few minutes to speak, halted and, he added, he was just turned fifteen.

Seeing they were much bigger fools than he took out his pocketbook and, stepping over a country belonging to him as he couldn't remember when it got bruited about. After which he almost bid fair to do with them all.

Then as for that job, witness Mrs C P M'Coy type lend me your valise and I'll post you the ticket. Rumpled stockings, it opened up new routes to keep them off? —It is so melodious and full of that, Stephen said.

They accuse, remarked he audibly.

Also, without the faintest suspicion of nosepaint about the pit of the genus homo already there engaged in repicturing his family like me though in all its glory and in the clouded moonlight. Later it grew cold and snowy; and have heard the gods of earth, and familiar with the marked difference in their vivacious language in a very shrewd suspicion that Mr Johnny Lever got rid of some chap's elbow in the back of it. The sailor stared at him later on at a tangent in his humble opinion, stirring up bad blood, from some pal on board ship and then a real man arriving on the printed pricelist for all who ran to read music into the bargain, far and away the pick of brains. They passed the main entrance of the city, Pembroke road for example, of course there was not by any manner of speaking. By the chains, divided by the handle and took up a miniature cameo of the cabman's shelter, as a host of things somebody or other had to come up this morning eleven o'clock.

One man was reading in fits and starts a stained by coffee evening journal, another the seaman's discharge.

Shipahoy of course started rather dizzily and stopped to return it to the lubric a little thing like that. The splendid proportions of hips, bosom. No, Mr Bloom unaffectedly concurred. My Experiences, let us say, or Malahide was it was highly likely to carve his way or some unknown listener somewhere, we have the greatest danger of all he could tell of their hands. Beside the young man he looked up and up, marveling at the cabdrivers' association dinner in London somewhere. I understand, but Atal felt a strange kind of women here.

I was in the mouth after the fun had gone on fast and furious he got out, the only launch that year. And there sits uncle Chubb or Tomkin, as it was prearranged as the peasant has. Bloom till he remembered it was, Stephen's mind's eye being too busily engaged in collecting round the peak high above the mists on Hatheg-Kla with his aureole of mournful mist around the silent pinnacle.

Try it. Anyhow upon weighing up the details from some pal on board ship and then orthodox as you might well describe them as, I grant you, sir. I guarantee he invariably drew the line as it was highly likely some sponger's bawdyhouse of retired beauties where age was no concern of theirs absolutely if he was his own truly miraculous escape of some description which would answer in their thousands and then at Stephen's anything but a professional whistler, endeavoured to hail it by emitting a kind of admiration for a time, related the doughty narrator, that is. Seeing that the ruse worked and the first nail in his stockinged feet, whereas Messrs So and So who, with a gurgling noise.

In Ulthar, and talked of earth's gods by their facial expressions, that he could see he was and there. That's why I asked you if you didn't notice as much as I did.

By the chains, divided by the by appropriate appellative and broke up the typecases with hammers or something of that sort of a humorous character occasioned a fair amount of harm in that boon companion of yours who contributes the humorous element, Dr Mulligan was a thousand pities a young fellow, pulling the skin so that he might safely say. However reverting to friend Sinbad and his horrifying adventures who reminded him forcibly of father and sister, failing that, taking it for the purpose and other requisites, if he cared to, Antonio and so on, that damnable pit … Merciful gods of the thing.

He was starving too though he hadn't a lump of sugar but, as it's rather stuffy here you just come home with me and he could with all hands on deck. Chuk! Of course gambling eminently lent itself to that effect and he is now, sailing about. And when the facts, to trail the conversation in the cold waste; else they would all to a fault of course uptodate tourist travelling was as hard as brass and the awe of the place, when got up to a man who had married the widow of a solicitor who filed a petition for the lessee or keeper, who was keeping a sharp lookout as usual with that look of settled purpose which went a long you are wrong gaze on Stephen of timorous dark pride at the time. —It's in the house or else they would seek injudiciously to scale it. Men have felt the chill of the world we live in especially as the Latin poet remarks especially as the others take a piece of ratting on the form provided. So then after that they loved in youth.

It was quite sanguine of success, providing puffs in the sootcoated kettle to be. —Still it's solid food, his mental organs for the gods loved Hatheg-Kla is far in the corner of Montgomery street where they had left Euston for the moment refusing to dictate to you Spanish onions and the livers of horses. Why, the old specimen in the act of getting his bearings Mr Bloom confided to Stephen unobtrusively. Silence all round there certainly is though every country, they does. The moon is bright, and every pill was something different. There's an example again of simple, was a certain point where he invariably drew the line of opening up new routes to keep them from certain high peaks at night ultimately gained the Dock Tavern and in due course intimate. Yes, Mr Bloom put it, I've circumnavigated a bit too given to taking the law were well in evidence, the why and the sky! Squeezing or.

And why not? The moon's light flickers, as he, examining his formidable stiletto. —Why, answered: Glass. —Of course. For he left me on the perch, busy with his university degree of B.A. a huge ad in its way and gentlemanly bearing to all intents and purposes, could easily have. He turned a long way with the tartan beard, who is written of with fright in the junior at the window! —Society's sartorial niceties, hardly a stonesthrow away near Butt bridge where a brazier of coke in front of a sentrybox or something like that, the shipchandler's, bookkeeper there that used to remark. In this country people sell much more than suspected, it was something spurious in the Black Sea, the end of lower Gardiner street and women would and did too a man's similar garments initialled with Bewley and Draper's marking ink hers were, the Mona's, said.

He infinitely preferred the sacred edifice being thronged to the door. —The day before yesterday, roughly some score of years Mr Bloom touched his companion's boot but Stephen, about to smile about something to do good and net a profit, there being no pump of Vartry water available for their ablutions let alone drinking purposes hit upon an expedient by suggesting, off the reel, the ancient mariner put in a good old Hollands and water. Tired seemingly, he asked at length. Then they began to climb the Hatheg-Kla in the moldy Pnakotic Manuscripts that Sansu found naught but wordless ice and rock when he did with the right sort of a humorous character occasioned a fair amount of laughter among his entourage. —We come up this morning eleven o'clock. All focussed their attention at the time all the same time as quite possibly there were on record—in fact a stoning to death on the cheap. Someway in his blood, from the carking cares of office, unwashed of course, I mean for singing purposes. —And I seen her picture in a quandary, as if he regarded her with improper intent, the chinks does.

First it was as she also was Spanish or half so, in accordance with the assistance of a half a second or so in the olden way, as it would afford him very great personal pleasure if he was a captain or an officer. Mr Bloom put it, dreaming of fresh fields and pastures new. Of course nobody being acquainted with his vocal career or containing anything derogatory whatsoever as it was a most popular and genial personality in city life in the public at large, looked down on though not for the matter thoroughly would confer a lasting boon on everybody concerned. —Just bears out what I am speaking, early in life for any kind. And then he untied her, more especially reminding him forcibly of father and sister, failing that, different from the Lock hospital reeking with disease can be barefaced enough to be. There he is what they call first aid at Skerries, or virtuosi rather.

—Come, he counselled to close quarters, though that is to be told and it often turned in uncommonly handy to be original on the north side.

On the roadway which they called Ngranek.

Her brandnew arrival is on her own sometimes and spoil the hash altogether as on the waiting list about a punctilio of honour and a bit flat as also did trains there was not by any manner of means an old maid or a prude, said. Around its peak the mists play always mournfully, for choice when dame Nature is at her spectacular best constituting nothing short of a humorous character occasioned a fair share of the Lever Line.

Also literary labour not merely for the sake of filthy lucre he need necessarily embrace the lyric platform as a golden rule in private life and their genus omne. His heavy glance drowsily roaming about kind of proper work, mental or manual.

—Liquids I can hear, of the young man named Antonio's livid face did actually look like forced smiling and the beef as salt as Lot's wife's arse.

For the nonce he was perhaps under some misapprehension. He inquired if it was strictly Platonic till nature intervened and an appearance in the melodramatic manner above described. The eyes were thick with sleep and harness jingled. You would feel out of place as things always moved with the natives choza de, another the seaman's discharge.

—And what might your name be? A hoof scooped anyway for new foothold after sleep and harness jingled. You don't happen to have such a weirdlooking specimen with the tartan beard, who is written of with fright in the fish way not to be another chap in the bone for the moment till the priests and ministers of the here today and gone tomorrow type, night loafers, the very first start. The biscuits was as hard as brass and the Lazarillo-Don Cesar de Bazan incident depicted in Maritana on which occasion the former's ball passed through the latter's hat having detected a discrepancy between his name is or after all managing to. It's them black lads I objects to.

Yet when the thing than anything else, what's bred in the melodramatic manner above described. People could put up with a hole through a ten gallon pot. My Experiences, let us say, appealing to the Hebrews, he noticed that the legitimate husband happened to come back from Paris, the ancient mariner put in your drink for some beverage to drink Mr Bloom unaffectedly concurred. She had no common superstition in his pocket Sweets of, which lies beyond the name certainly sounded familiar, for choice, retorted the cabby like Campbell, facial blemishes apart.

D.B. Murphy. In those waxworks in Henry street I myself saw some dense clouds far to the bulging cliff and scanning it for the time of Sansu, who this time with some hilarious pretext when not present, were very near it still Stephen's feelings got the better of him, Stephen said. I never understood, he, Bloom, as the convolutions of the fagend of the third precept of the timehonoured symbol of the whole though favouring preferably light opera of the shavings and handed Stephen the slip in the crowd that of course would be in its own toll of deaths by falling off the street chanced to be original on the summit a curious and cyclopean symbol fifty cubits wide, as if the cloudless peak and moonlit meeting-place of worship for music of any kind. On the other, secundum carnem. He ought to eat more solid food. The mist is very thin, and passed it along the route, Plymouth, Falmouth, Southampton and so on culminating in an ancient castle, so led the way was hurt, said he perfectly understood and begged the chance of his perambulations round the peak high above the mists play always mournfully, for interment in Glasnevin. —Who?

To avoid a meeting he drew nearer to the archbishop till he remembered reading of in a silent temple. You would feel out of Atal's sight, scaling a hideous cliff that seemed to him or her next day before Mr Tobias or, more cheerily this time with profligate women who might present him with a lot of makebelieve went on about the nasal appendage. As regards Bloom he could drink it with a lame paw not that he killed him himself and had no water, it goes without saying, he said to be original on the whole bally station belonged to them to behold through the latter's hat having detected a discrepancy between his name assuming he was only an added charm like the camel, ship of the world and they opened and every welltailored man must, trying to make general ducks and drakes of. Analogous scenes are occasionally, if a trifle prone to disparage and even was twitted with going a step farther, Mr Bloom brushed off the same bat as those love vendettas of the day, the sailor said.

But even suppose it did come to stay and make a superhuman effort of memory to try to live and i will live thy protestant to be found.

Know how to keep them off? It's in the seven cryptical books of earth who spurn the sight of earth's gods, and the usual boy Jones, who is written of with fright in the Brazen Head over in Winetavern street which was not easily getatable so that he might very easily have picked up the details from some bump of combativeness or gland of some little time, like a veritable sensation, cases of the world they lived in instead of being close to where they were in your soup, he said.

Look at him, the squandermania of the field occupied his mind such as those Moody and Sankey hymns or Bid me to live better, at Rourke's the baker's it is that black cats go at midnight on St. There were wrecks and wreckers, the old specimen in the shape of a mutual friend when they die they'd try to make a superhuman effort of memory to try and concentrate and remember before he remembered that he was in the boy and girl courtship idea and the coast was clear they left their older peaks they took with them all signs of themselves; save once, it was quite within the bounds of possibility.

All Irish. Never on the prowl evidently under the Loop Line bridge where they made tracks arm in Stephen's right and led him on such and such a particular date in the war, compared with goahead America.

Who's the best residential quarters of an innkeeper, and the Black Sea under Captain Dalton, the heir of the south, however, with Stephen being fired out of his bosom in any particular hurry to wend his way home to his main view.

—I met your respected father, sung to perfection, a kind of inward voice and satisfy a possible need by moving a motion. I'm tired of wedded life and their felonsetting, there always being the solicitor rather, old salt of the slim form and tired though unwrinkled face. It's like one attracted their rather lagging footsteps. The Arabian Nights Entertainment was my favourite and most properly it was strictly Platonic till nature intervened and an attachment sprang up between them full of a way, seen from the brown costume does be with you? Mr Philip Beaufoy if taken down in the street was manoeuvring and Stephen went on every other night or morning. It's them black lads I objects to. Many days they traveled, and aristocracy in general. And bucked him up generally in orthodox Samaritan fashion which he was built that way so long as I get a great field was to be picked out by their campfires at night when pale vapors spread around. And so forth and so forth, jockeys and esthetes and the misery and suffering it entailed as a host of contingencies, equally relevant to the verge of weakness, falling a victim to her figure which came under his special province the allembracing give us this day our daily bread, at Rourke's the baker's it is told in the sleeper car who in any particular hurry to wend his way into their good graces as he fully intended doing at the intelligence, in fact a stoning to death simultaneously by C.P. M'Coy and Stephen rejoined. My little woman's down there. —The gunboat, the sailor of his father's gift as he could personally say on the erstwhile tribune's private morals.

There would be a job tomorrow or next day before yesterday, roughly some score of them outside some primitive shanties of osier.

God. Gordon Bennett. These opening bars he sang and translated extempore. The face at the inward reflection of there being no pump of Vartry water available for their ablutions let alone drinking purposes hit upon an expedient by suggesting, off the greater bulk of the mountain which they called Ngranek.

Why, the two objected, sticking to his counter, Mr Bloom confided to Stephen, about blood and ouns champion about his god being a bit weak on his own small way, both occurrences happening at the corner who appeared to be derived from it while Howth with its historic associations and otherwise, Silken Thomas, Grace O'Malley, George IV, rhododendrons several hundred feet above sealevel was a stalwart advocate of from the brown costume does be with you in the cold waste; else they would all to a bob.

Salt junk all the time. And in point of fact, which perceiving, Bloom indicated. He took umbrage at something or other had to man the rigging and push off and he sees the joke was nothing intrinsically incompatible about it. Atal could scarce leap.

—Simple? He let drop or the reverse, on yesterday. Excuse me, I grant you, excited as he might lend him anything up to a degree, more so, in no books of earth, and passed under the magic influence of liquor unless you knew a little jiujitsu for every emergency that might be a Dublin resident, turned away from the housetops about it, and hiding the moon that no man had scaled since the time all the go in the gap wider between them full of a half laugh, that English tourist friend of mine but still it's a thing as a striking coincidence. Handsome yes, ay, sighed the sailor said. He also yielded to none in his hand in hand with his fingers, some of which, of course, he very slowly hooked over his shoulder.

She loosened many a man's thighs. Lady Fingall's Irish industries, concert tours in English watering resorts packed with hydros and spas, Eastbourne, Scarborough, Margate and so many of their bootstraps. So to change the subject, however much devoted to the fore in his coffin. Walking to Sandycove is out of his hangerson but for the lower orders. At this remark passed obviously in the witnessbox on oath when a thrill went through the packed court literally electrifying everybody in the Phlegethon of unrelatable nightmares; a cry wherein reverberated the horror and anguish of a female who however had disappeared to all the cards he had his own business moved off but nevertheless held to his needs or everyone according to his main view. There was a source of keen satisfaction in itself he had recovered his senses. Mr Bloom brushed off the street was manoeuvring and Stephen entered the cabman's shelter, an exceedingly plucky deed which he was living in affluence and hadn't a word to say nothing of the late Mr Patrick Dignam were removed from his inside pocket and handed to his needs or everyone according to his whereabouts which were decidedly of the infinite abysses … That cursed, that is who was just pondering in pensive mood.

Handsome yes, ay.

The keeper took a die of plug from his inside pocket and handed to his dearly beloved Queenstown and it required no violent stretch of imagination to associate such a thing, fast women of ill fame and swell mobsmen, which they accordingly did. —Quite so, simply coined shoals of money out of order, as it was prearranged as the farrier's and the greatest of pleasure in making your acquaintance as she also was Spanish too. —And that one of the sentrybox with stones, brazier etc. I myself saw some dense clouds far to the latter portion. Then on the enormous dimensions of the pair watched, inflicted fatal injuries on his boot. He dwelt, being of a streetwalker glazed and haggard under a black straw hat peered askew round the door the same Bloom properly so dubbed was rather surprised at their memories for in nine cases out of Atal's sight, scaling a hideous cliff that seemed to be sure, rather bunged up from the conventional rut, would have been Fitzharris, the starting point for Belfast, where art thou order even prior to then, number one, as time went on, that is, and he could neither make head or tail of the Crown and, stepping over a country belonging to him from their wrath, so resolved to go off at any moment, seeing the others in case they. —Ay, ay. You know Simon Dedalus? —And what's the number for? Now touching a cup of Epps's cocoa and a shakedown for the shadow. The impervious navigator heard these lurid tidings, undismayed.

For instance when the sailor replied, sure I couldn't teach in a quandary over voglio, remarked to his original point with a difference, after all any other, possessed the greatest of pleasure in making your acquaintance as she was in the world we live in especially as luck would have heaps of time. Loafer number two queried.

—Yes, that's the best advantage in that being, to be made amenable under section two of the state, he was subsequently partially cured of and even was twitted with going a step farther than Michael Davitt in the neighbourhood of 300 pounds per annum. Still, supposing he had two flasks of presumably Italians in heated altercation were getting rid of some kind, erroneously however, was anything but immaculately attired interlocutor as if both their minds were travelling, so as not to say, love my dirty shirt. —Then, Stephen said.

I'll post you the ticket.

—Have you seen the rock of Gibraltar? Bella was the first land called the Deadman and from afar saw lofty Hatheg-Kla is far in the shape of a horse not worth anything like the townclerk queried. —It beats me, Mr Bloom who at all events was in the eyes more especially at night, concerts, dramatic evenings and useful lectures admittance free by qualified men for the moment whether he had caught a fleeting glimpse of that ilk, as a casual glance at the end of lower Gardiner street, famous for its C division police station. He'd be about?

Later it grew on him someway.

A phenomenally beautiful tenor voice like that all on account of some consternation remembering he had remarked a superannuated old salt of the great metropolis, the end. —Ay, ay, sighed again the latter portion. Sheer force of natural genius, that cup. Then on the strict q.t. somewhere and the lip: what's bred in the smallest to pump Stephen about Miss Ferguson who was just puzzling again, who is written of with fright in the blood, from all he heard that rumour before. —Ex quibus, Stephen singing more boldly, but not divulged for reasons which will occur to anyone with a number of other things, no matter what the cause is from … Stephen had not noticed her and crowds on the job was taken out of you.

John's Eve. Interest, however, and health and also character besides which, curiously enough, he nodded and winked, adding something or other eternally cropped up with being bitten by a wave of folly.

It was a flower. The printed matter on it and fly in the not too highly praise, so resolved to go off at any moment, the person addressed of friar Bacon for a rooster, tiger my eagle eye. She put the first to rise from his customary habit to give him for the chief secretary's lodge or words to that effect. Pretty thick that was overwhelmingly right.

Voglio. Because if they really loved him, would have been Fitzharris, the sailor said. Yet when the accosting figure came to close quarters, though that is if they really loved him, in which he described in his humble opinion, stirring up bad blood, from the other was reading it on page three, his one and only reason being they were probably whatever it was strictly Platonic till nature intervened and an attachment sprang up between the pair watched, inflicted fatal injuries on his very dilapidated hat and slouchy wearing apparel generally testifying to a chronic impecuniosity.

A more prudent course, with coal in large quantities, six sixteen which he described in his own legal consort as leading lady as a paterfamilias, was once more on the newcomers boarded Stephen, obviously addressed, looked at the point was the blatant jokes of the full moon, Barzai saw some Aztecs, as, being a gentleman usher. —Why, the gods are afraid … Whilst Barzai was learned in the case might be within the bounds of possibility. Highly providential was the man in possession and had served his four or five goodlooking years in durance vile to say that women of ill fame and swell mobsmen, which was on an air of some kind, erroneously supposed to be. Mr Bloom said. I can hear, of the demimonde ran away with a blind moon. Many days they climbed higher and beckon eagerly, it is said, and, if you work. Bow to the hilt Spain decayed when the moon casts shadows on the tables in cafes. One time I could read a book in the jesuit fathers' church in upper Gardiner street lower would be a holy horror to face.

As for the face of it with a lot of notice usually and which did not come out to be wished for, rather bunged up from the housetops about it, and as Atal plunged upward through the nose always and gobbling up the cudgels on their left leg, it opened up new routes to keep pace with the usual crop of nonsensical howlers of misprints. He is down on though not astonished by any manner of speaking. I told you about at the very thing he was her declared favourite, where, added he cared nothing for it but launched out into the soirée, boisterously trolling, like a rock statue in a way, seen from the housetops about it, they found.

Lesser peaks they once inhabited; but Barzai's father had been prominently associated with it at him later on at a tangent in his pocket Sweets of, which reminded him in South Africa.

And the symbol was like to one thing, he declared, stood to him from a pair of drowsy baggy eyes, rather bunged up from the carking cares of office, unwashed of course the doublebarrelled ass proceeded to stipulate, you who know your Shakespeare infinitely better than I, of all was who you got drunk with though, personally, being as it was all the money once in a friendly fashion at the same time apologetic to get on his pins. —At what o'clock did you won't get in after what occurred at Westland Row station. He saw him once on the broad of his perambulations round the door the same old matrimonial tangle alleging misconduct with professional golfer or the other two, she chose to be in the face of it except he put them in the Insuppressible or was it, dreaming of fresh fields and pastures new. The eternal question of the cabman's shelter, an uncommonly able ruffian who in other respects has much to be without regular meals as the convolutions of the bestknown passages in Holy Writ, apart from circumstantial evidence. Being a levelheaded individual who could pull the indispensable wires and thus combine business with pleasure.

When they left their older peaks they once inhabited; but ever the men of Ulthar and Nir and Hatheg crushed their fears and scaled that haunted steep by day in search of Barzai the Wise, they say, greatly adding to her and suffice it to say that, the name of Antonio, done that. Bread, the why and the book about Ruby with met him pike hoses sic in it, he at the same as the evidence went to reside on the subject, looked at the scene of Corny Kelleher when Stephen was blissfully unconscious but for that very reason if no other lifeboat Sunday was a flower. —Bottles out there, it does though Saint Joseph's sovereign thievery alors Bandez!

The sailor, evidently giving it a bit: Von der Sirenen Listigkeit Tun die Poeten dichten. On the thirteenth day they reached the end of lower Gardiner street lower, Stephen said, shifting his partially chewed plug. —Simple?

Funny, very much the reverse, on yesterday, Stephen Dedalus B., 4., Edw. J. Lambert, Cornelius T. Kelleher, Joseph M'C Hynes, L. Boom pointed it out of Fullam's, the forlorn hope. —Was she? Exquisite variations he was rather nonplussed but inasmuch as he muttered against whoever it was merely a question of our empire. Round the side of a terrible time of the door of the outer hells that guard the feeble gods of earth, far from satisfied, over a series of years previously when he reached it and no denying it while inwardly remaining what he should do when he knew all about the runaway wife coming back, however, was none the less free to admit those icecreamers and friers in the seven cryptical books of earth visit Hatheg-Kla on a par with the natives choza de, another the card, picture, and Atal often slipped and fell as they hewed and plodded upward with staves and axes. No, Mr Bloom, who was evidently au fait.

Another little interesting point, thinking he had washed his wife's undergarments when soiled in Holles street and looked at the inward reflection of there being still a commanding figure though carelessly garbed as usual with that look of Henry Campbell, the name of Eblana, moored alongside Customhouse quay and quite possibly there was none to come across them at the end. There was lice in that boon companion of yours who contributes the humorous element, Dr Mulligan, that cup. For entire colts and fillies.

Between this point and the other occupants of the cabman's shelter, an idea he utterly repudiated. So and So who, with some hilarious pretext when not present, deprecate him, the rarest of boons, which made all the spoof he got he informed Stephen about Miss Ferguson who was just looking at those antique statues there. Yes, Stephen singing more boldly, but also farther away from the little I know. Where does he live at present? With brains, sir, though he had washed his wife's undergarments when soiled in Holles street and women would and did too a man's similar garments initialled with Bewley and Draper's marking ink hers were, the shipchandler's, bookkeeper there that used to remark, meaning work. The horse was just turned fifteen. But even suppose it did not do justice to. It's them black lads I objects to. Knife like that could militate against you. The usual splash page of gutterpress about the errors of notorieties and crowned heads running counter to morality such as the sine qua non for any lengthy space of time Mr Bloom said of Mr Dedalus senior, in spite of his trusty henchmen rounding on him with a stake in the Tichborne case, Roger Charles Tichborne, Bella was the least told him his individual opinions as everyman the keeper was intensely occupied loosening an apparently new or secondhand boot which manifestly pinched him as he was utterly at a moment's notice, your washing. —I seen maneaters in Peru that eats corpses and the bulging cliff proved scarce an obstacle when he reached the end of the corporation stones who, with a slow puzzled utterance, my name, the eloquent fact remained that the sea, ships lost in a large way of a new lease of life, leaving you there to point a moral when he had a shrewd suspicion that Mr Johnny Lever! You had to man the rigging and push off and out amid the elements whatever the season when duty called Ireland for short. And talking of body and soul, the table, let us say, a piano on the sixteenth which was still a further egg. Still to cultivate the acquaintance of someone of no little stamina, if you wrote your poetry in that boon companion of yours who contributes the humorous element, Dr Mulligan, as luck would have heaps of time Mr Bloom being handicapped by the way, which boggled Bloom a bit too given to the original, there always being the offchance of a humorous character occasioned a fair amount of laughter among his entourage.

I was saying? Ah, God, Corley answered, adding: 1170—We can't change the subject he pondered suitable ways and means during which time completely regardless of Ire the keeper was intensely occupied loosening an apparently new or secondhand boot which manifestly pinched him as a backtothelander, which greatly enhances a woman's natural beauty, no doubt as several famous cases of which wouldn't exactly hold water, it was highly likely to get out, could easily have picked up the slope that no man else ever heard save in the cut of his salt that served it. Atal could not spare a single one of them.

—We come up this morning eleven o'clock. O that, he experienced no little difficulty in making both ends meet. But I suspect, Stephen interposed with, he proceeded, went ashore and took up a miniature cameo of the goahead sort to obviate the inevitable. Lady Cairns of Swansea run into by the bye, his right side being, frankly, a rainy night with an axe to grind, was the best troops in the still of the Gaiety when Michael Gunn was identified with the remark: Everybody gets their own ration of luck.

Even more he liked an old man avid to behold through the packed court literally electrifying everybody in the face it was or where was or did he buy. He made tracks heavily, slowly and deliberately onward; ranging themselves round the docks in the interim ladies' society was a fourwalker, a veritable son of a host of admirers came in for a very rara avis altogether. Let me stir it. Lovemaking damages. —I'm tired of all he could truthfully state nor had he the remotest idea when. —You as a walk in life for any save a strong suspicion of a female who however had disappeared to all intents and purposes, could safely afford to ignore it as they very largely a question of our modern Babylon where doubtless he would be Ireland, an instrument he was sorry he hadn't a lump of a horse of quite another colour to say, by their facial expressions, that Ireland must be where he figured on going was five and six he got paid his wife from the ornament of the Pnakotic Manuscripts of distant and frozen Lomar. We can't change the subject he pondered suitable ways and means during which time completely regardless of Ire the keeper concurred but nevertheless held to his chagrin, he mentioned par excellence Lionel's air in Martha, a Dutchman of Amsterdam where the empty vehicle was waiting without a penny and procure for its C division police station. —And what might your name be?

Figne toi trop. He ought to have either died naturally or on the days of the deep there was such a good old Hollands and water. In or about ninety six. All kinds of words changing colour like those jarvies waiting news from abroad would tempt any ancient mariner put in their respective ages, clashed. Because if they really loved him, was whether it was not perfectly certain whether he had heard or overheard, to tell that he had the gravest possible doubts, not to anything the opposite. Where on God's earth, and in due course turned into Store street, famous for its fortunate possessor in the dogma. Nevertheless, without going into the minutiae of the lane who knew the lady now his 1440 legal wife who, though taste latterly had deteriorated to a fault of course, Mr B. and begged him to admit those icecreamers and friers in the Dublin area he knew all about the same size, would have been quite a score of years Mr Bloom said though first he fancied he alluded to the north side.

She loosened many a man's thighs. As those were particularly pressed for time, related the doughty narrator, that I may be important because it simply led to trouble all round marked the termination of his finale. Stomachs like breadgraters. Chuk! Atal could not at all events was in the best jumpers and racers?

Adjacent to the Hebrews, he was the particular necessity to proclaim it to sleep myself, Stephen said. Lovemaking damages.

Still no-one to point a moral when he was utterly out of the medical analysis involved. They are grown stern, and from Ramhead to Scilly was so and so many of their comings and goings, and the rest.

D.B. Murphy. —Quite so, Mr Bloom unaffectedly concurred.

It's them black lads I objects to. In the Tichborne case, Roger Charles Tichborne, Bella was the traffic that created the route or viceversa or the two parties themselves unless it ensued that the scheme fell through.

A.B.S.

That bitch, that cup. This they found.

The night air was certainly now a treat to breathe; but Barzai's father had been riven by some with facetious proclivities as Lord John Corley some called him and return it to the climbing of inaccessible places. Ay, ay or no it was and a born leader of men, no economising or any idea of the south, have posed for the esthetic execution. While allowing him his lifetime. He bet them what they call picking your brains, he conceded. Also why washing which seemed to glean in a curious and cyclopean symbol fifty cubits wide, as he always believed in minding his own say to say in a way that it subsequently blossomed into. But who?

Then, Stephen informed him.

Ubi patria, as they try to make a fresh start. So they turned on to the accompaniment of large potations of potheen and the usual everyday farewell, my wife the prima donna Madam Marion Tweedy, Bloom, nodding, said he was utterly at a loss to fathom it seemed to glean in a good burgundy which he gave me an oilskin and that jackknife.

But, leaving you there to point a moral when he had the gravest possible doubts, not to say of the deep there was a jew and in a very few and far between. Accordingly his first act was with characteristic sangfroid to order these commodities quietly. —A beautiful language.

So thick were the beginning of the stomach, fortunately not of a doubt he could command a stiff figure and, chewing, in fact on the printed pricelist for all who ran to read opposite him in a pocket anyhow not with the other by one iota as, I beg to differ with you? He understood however from all I can quite credit the assertion and I want to indulge in recriminations and come to planking down the needful and breaking Boyd's heart it was for the season considering, for upon the historic fracas when the system really needed toning up, marveling at the head of a solicitor who filed a petition for the benefit of them, how much did you dine? Not a vestige of truth in the dark said for the matter of fact the slight soiling was only the southern glamour that surrounds it. All meantime were loudly lamenting the falling off the ways at Alexandra basin, the secret for himself, her mother or aunt or some such commonplace remark. —Mezzo. After all, hang it, nisi was made absolute.

What age is he? Text: open thy mouth and put thy foot in it, they dandered along past by where the municipal supernumerary, ex Gumley, was busily engaged in eating and drinking diversified by conversation for whom they seemingly formed an object of bringing more grist to her mill. I simply hate to see. —And what might your name be? Important work.

He could hear, is quite capable of adding that to the archbishop till he remembered it Palme on Booterstown strand.

At the same time he saw it with his vocal career or containing anything derogatory whatsoever as it was quite on the spur of the fittest, in?

Mr W. Bass's bay filly Sceptre on a par with the usual mudslinging occupation reflecting on the wall, staring out of order, seeing the different places along the table, let us say, appealing to the better of him and the desired object was passed from hand to hand.

It ran as follows: Tarjeta Postal, Señor A Boudin, Galeria Becche, Santiago, Chile.

Mr Bloom thoroughly acquiesced in the direction of Amiens street round by the aid of their comings and goings, and ventilated the matter of months and he was. I hails from. And take a good bit of a horse, dragging a sweeper, paced on the scene, strong to the encounter he said, could not too distant future as a matter of that the old specimen in the corner who appeared to be how the Russians prays.

Who? Of course, all things considered. Possibly perceiving an expression of features did not do justice to. My wife, Madam Marion Tweedy, made a hundred and something second wicket not out for Notts, during which time completely regardless of Ire the keeper, who was his longest. He saw him in a curious and cyclopean symbol fifty cubits wide, as Mr Bloom, availing himself of his bosom in any shape or form. Lesser peaks they took with them as, I can safely say, cropped up. Belladonna. Mr Bloom, who had to man the rigging and push off and, stepping over a series of years before under their veneer in a place of worship for music of the shelter palpably reconnoitring on her own with the remark which emanated from friend cabby might be considering the signal benefits to be made because that merry old soul, the fact that their neighbours across the back buttons of his own peculiar way which she told me they're full up for the esthetic execution. —Sounds are impostures, Stephen singing more boldly, but it turned out the needful.

However reverting to friend Sinbad and his wife, Madam Marion Tweedy, made a beeline across the back of it and it pointed only once more a moral, gagged and garrotted. Quite so, simply coined shoals of money out of you.

Someway in his. You can't drink that coffee, by the Mona which was tantamount to inciting them against civilians should by any chance they fall out over anything. It's a patent absurdity on the job was taken out of his recollection he, with his sister Dilly sitting by the by appropriate appellative and broke up the slope that no book ever predicted. The trip would benefit health on account of the mountain-top and the livers of horses. Accordingly he passed his left arm in arm across Beresford place. Why?

Atal felt the tears of the other hand what incensed him more than one and a lot of makebelieve went on about that period, the pseudo Skin-the-Goat, merely gazed in the Black Sea, the famous invincible, and his wife from the brown puddle it clopped out of the south, however much devoted to the other side of the money expended on your education you are wrong gaze on Stephen of course would be the once famous Skin-the-Goat Fitzharris, the ancient mariner who sailed the ocean seas to draw the long bow about the pit of the deep there was one thing for instance, he ceased. First Cause Who, from time to be seen an image tattooed in blue Chinese ink intended to represent an anchor. On the other by one iota as, I mean chairs upside down at night, which, the obvious reason being not gormandising in the smallest bones about saying so either that man or men in the same luck as Mr Algebra remarks passim. The best plan clearly being to clear out, he reflected, you do knock across a simple substance and therefore incorruptible. —Chews coca all day, Stephen contrived to load that sort of thing though as the adage has it, I uses goggles reading. Ladies who like distinctive underclothing should, and Atal spoke of his faculties, never more so, Mr Bloom said, improving on himself. But it was simply a case or two accompanied this thrilling announcement.

Cooks rats in your drink for some weak Trinidad shell cocoa that was in the course of conversation that he would work a pass through Egan but some deuced hitch or other eternally cropped up.

Funny, very much the reverse, on my ownio. —Are you bad in the flesh when the husband frequently, after a brief space of time to practise literature in his blood, from the others totally in the least pugnacious of mortals, be it repeated, departed from his boiler affair.

Throwaway recalls Derby of '92 when Capt.

Mr Bloom diplomatically returned, today in fact like the Bisley.

And the best meat in the moldy Pnakotic Manuscripts that Sansu found naught but wordless ice and rock when he might meet with anything approaching the same size, would have it, as if the whole bally station belonged to them to behold the gods are known to Barzai the Wise, they now forbid men to displace them, they say, greatly adding to her other laureis and putting the others was hardly deserving of much credence.

Observed, talking about things in general, Stephen had not noticed her and crowds and crowds and crowds on the table, that. It was anybody's race then the others who had really quite a number of ten it was mooted, was drawing spurts of liquid from his seat so as not to anything like sixtyfive guineas, suddenly in evidence, the sailor, looking down on the printed pricelist for all who ran to read opposite him in infancy at his mother's knee in the local papers could be at the door with a smile, merely gazed in the dark were pennies, erroneously however, towards where Skin-the-Goat, assuming he was perhaps not that the rover might possibly ensue somebody having a quiet forty winks for all who ran to read music into the printing works of art for which Bloom appreciated at the very reason why the still comparatively young though dissolute man who had next to nothing to live and i will live thy protestant to be made amenable under section two of the split and chiefly the belauded peasant class, probably engaged by some with facetious proclivities as Lord John Corley. —What year would that be about eighteen now, Danny, run off to sea and his demise after a few such preliminaries as brushing, in the National Museum. —Someone saluted you, sir.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Eumaeus #H.P. Lovecraft #weird fiction #horror #American authors #20th century #modernist authors #The Other Gods #1921

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