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punkandsnacks · 4 years

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Between Wolves & Doves, Chapter Five; Moonlight

Author: @punk-in-docs & @adamsnackdriver

Also on AO3-

Trigger Warnings: !!! Violence and gore in this chapter !!! As-well as graphic mentions of death - yeah Kylo’s a hungry boi. Gets a bit deathy when he’s around.

Synopsis: Vampire!Kylo x OC love story. Inspired by BBC’s Dracula. Also inspired by Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

He’s been stalking this earth long since civilizations can possibly fathom. Before records even began. He sneers at the fact that this pitiful young world has only just begun to see his reign of it.

He’s dined with moguls, emperors, princes. He’s consorted with bloodthirsty ruthless Queens in their courts, and whispered into the ears of powerful King’s, whose names still echo through millennia.

In his myriad of centuries gifted to his immortal self he’s been many many things. He’s been a lowly pauper. A crusading knight. An assassin. A sell sword. A soldier. A wanderer. A simpering suitor and a voracious unyielding lover. Aimlessly lost in time- besieging this earth. Ripping it apart and drinking what’s left.

He was made in the hinterland between snow and dirt and pine trees. Crusted with ash and blood and gouged from battle. Born anew. Sired from the hell-mouth of war. He was made in 789 AD.

He’ll come undone, one bitter winter night, in England, in 1816.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

Not two days later and the Ashton’s are bid to the Phillips to dine.

They are all in Westwell’s meagre foyer. Mother is fussing with Fathers cravat knot. Posy and Flora are fighting over who gets sole use of the looking glass. They tease at the spilling curls of their hair, they pinch at their cheeks to make them pinker.

They’d already been scrapping all afternoon over who got to wear Iris’s sapphire earrings. Their screeches rang like sharp little butterflies all throughout the house. Posy won the battle for the gems in the end of all things. Iris stayed well out of it. She bid good fortune to the winner.

She’s dressed tonight in another one of her ‘’matrimony inducing’ gowns. According to her mother. But she won’t deny it is a very pretty piece. It sits daintily rasped just off her shoulders, with three-quarter length sleeves. Indian silk fabric, the colour of dusky robin egg blue. It makes her hair look more brilliant, according to their local dressmaker, as she flapped swatches around Iris’s ears to help her mother make a choice.

The neckline at the back drapes low to a row of matching blue buttons marching down her spine. Julia helped tease the teal silk ribbon Posy secured her, into her low done coiffure. Which sat braided and low at the back of her neck. Silver pins shining among the tumble of her dark hair.

This wasn’t a ball and she could gladly forgo gloves. She’s wearing pearl drops from her earlobes. And mother insisted on a draping necklace around her throat. Simple silver necklace. With an oval aquamarine beryl, and a freshwater pearl dropping off it. It sits low in her clavicle and mother ensured the cut of her dress was low. Drawing attention to Iris’s shoulders and her comely bosom.

She does as she’s bade - as ever. She steals a second in the mirror to check her coiffure. Now Posy and Flora are by the door, arguing over slippers and slipping the dainty things on their feet. Spitting fury at each other.

Iris toys with her hair just for a second in the glass. At the wispy muddy bits that curl in front of her ears. She plucks them out of the hair arrangement. Aswell as one gentle curl down the nape of her neck. She lets it rest there. Clasping delicately at her skin.

The care-worn face of her beleaguered father appears behind her in the looking glass reflection. With his greying rust hued hair, his squared fashionable sideburns and his tired, deep eyes the colour of jade marble.

He loosens the linen knot his wife had just pinched tighter around his neck. His eyes warm like a sun baked green meadow when he peers at his eldest. Wrinkles bunch and crease at his eyes and at his mouth when he smiles. He had such a ruddy, open face.

“You look very well tonight my dear.” He comments softly. Tugging at his tight collar. Fixing his green velvet lapels. Iris smiles at her father.

He always was the gentle backbone of encouragement to her. Never once raised his voice to her. He never seemed to grow angry or vexed. Or have a swing of a temper. Those nasty sharp attitudes belonged solely and respectively to her mother. She’s the one who shouts and snipes. Father remains taciturn.

“Thankyou, papa.” Iris beams at him. Turning around as he handed her, her indigo blue cloak. Iris seemed to be the one he favoured. Posy and Flora have slithers of acerbity in their temperaments, like mama. Iris seemed to flourish after his more witty and lenient nature.

She brushes the lapels of his bottle green jacket down. Eyed the fraying seam that’s been stitched up in his shoulder. The faded linen of his shirt. It almost makes her want to go through with this marital farce that’s being forced so thoroughly upon her.

“You look very handsome tonight too, might I add.” She smiles. Adjusting his cravat for him. Loosening it from the choking noose mother had tied. “I know how little you care for the Phillips.” Iris smiles thankfully. Not letting mama hear.

“Mrs Phillips is most agreeable. Her husband however? Most odious man alive. It seems all he can converse about is how cumbersome the grouse is this season.” He relents quietly.

“I deem it unwise to try and escape the acquaintance now. Mama would quite have a fit.” Iris supposed. Hushing quietly as she soothes down the points of his collar.

He gives her a sober smile of agreement. His conduct and his temper always so agreeably timid. Humble. Like waves breaking on the dashed sharp rocks. Always yielding.

She finishes with his coat and he goes to pick up his hat from the stand in the foyer, nestled by the front door. Julia is just helping Mama shrug on her coat. And pin her purple and black trimmed shako hat on securely.

She harshly jerks her calfskin black gloves up her wrists with tugging severely sharp motions. Her coat is trimmed with the same onyx and lilac as that of her hat. And her dress beneath is a punchy lavender mauve. And she’s wearing her black lace fichu around her neck in a matronly manner.

Posy and Flora have gone for their best washed silk dresses. Trussed up like twins. Posy is in a muted sage-emerald. And Flora has gone for a waxy and humble tulip-orange. Both have a white lace trim at the waist from the new Belgian lace they bought. Dainty white slippers and stockings on their feet.

“We must go now. The dratted carriage better be here soon, or else we’ll be late.” Mama snaps. Fussing with her coiffure. Issuing orders to the maid after their departure.

If Iris was lucky enough to be spared this outing? And be in their positions. She knows where she’d be. Curled up in the oak farmhouse chair in the kitchen, book in hand, with a cup of chocolate nearby as she warms her toes near the stove.

As it is; she’s off for an evening of white soup by candlelight, strict conversation and a dazzling staggering show of the Phillips wealth. One that will grind mama’s teeth that they can’t compete with such affluence. And one that will have Flora, Posy, and father bored to tears within minutes. Wanting to gouge their eyes out with the ivory soup spoons for something to do.

Iris will not have the time to be bored; she will have to comport herself and display her loveliness to every eligible man in attendance.

She is at the door pulling on her warm gloves when Posy and Flora skip happily up to their elder sister. Posy sing-songs something about Lord Ren. “Maybe your suitor is invited tonight, Iris?” She teases.

Iris levels her a look. Father turns around with his solid brow shooting up to his hairline. “I didn’t know you had a suitor, my dear?” He supposed kindly.

Iris jams an elbow into Posy’s ribs. “That’s because I do not have one-” She insists blithely. Growling intemperately at her pest of a sister.

“She does! She does Papa! And she’s smitten.” Flora speaks up. The little tick. Iris tries to swat at her with her gloves.

“You say this about any man who so much as glances in her direction. Posy.” Mother says. Stepping past them all.

“We should be so lucky that one of them might form an attachment.” Mother mutters under her breath. Fixing her cuffs and stepping out the front door to see the carriage drawing up ready to escort them all to the Phillips’.

Iris shares a look of teeth gritting annoyance and forbearance with her father. Who pats her shoulder and gives her one of his crinkly smiles of comfort. She steps up into the cold box of the carriage via the step. Shoving herself far across on the bench.

Posy and Flora ram themselves onto the same bench with Iris. Sharp little elbows and knees digging into their sister; complaining of the lack of room they had. Mother and Father sat opposite. Not speaking. Which was their normality. Her sisters squawks and fusses more than aptly filled the silence.

It’s not long before her mother starts speaking at her father about the household gossip of the day. She seldom expected him to respond.

“Simpson told me today we must hire a new pair of hands for seasonal work up at the farm soon. We can not afford such an expense and reliable staff is so hard to come by in winter. I heard the Norris’s lost one of their farm hands just last night...”

Iris tries to pay attention over Posy and Flora’s inane squabbles about their washed silk embroidered shawls. Posy has lost hers yet again- Flora was the suspected thief.

“Apparently they found the man not five paces from the local tavern in the ditch. He’d drunk a skinful and then got run down by a coach. The fool...” She comments. Iris turns to look at her parents.

“That is unfortunate. Poor fellow.” Father remarks in a detached manner.

“Mrs Bishop wrote to me today too. And according to her, a manservant in her employ has gone missing. Her hall boy. And another labourer from Milton Farm was found just this morning in the woods outside Pembleton. Frozen stiff with cold, reeking of Gin, and he’d been attacked for the coins in his pocket. I honestly don’t know what this world is coming too. Really I don’t.” She remarks.

Iris doesn’t know why. But a coiling slither of a snake wraps around her spine and squeezes.

She shivers. And more worryingly, she can’t go about placing exactly why...

“Perhaps a wild animal is loose hereabout these parts?” Father speculated. Uninterested.

Mother harrumphed a snort of displeasure. “I say men who fall afoul of too much drink deserve everything they get. It’s simply not decent.” She says snappily. Sniffing loftily. Hands crossed in her lap. Brushing imaginary sullying specs off her skirts.

Because of course she’s the type of woman who thinks insobriety and being lost to drink rightfully deserves being torn to pieces.

“I do hope they don’t invite Mrs Norris tonight. She’s such a trying woman. And her daughter is such a useless untalented chit.” Mother says to herself. Posy and Flora hop on into the gossip.

Iris watches out the window. She admires up on the smudged glow of the full moon. Sat pearly and proud in a sky netted full of of bursting white stars. So cold. So beautiful. Untouchable. Shrouding the dark world in silver from miles and leagues and scores away. She can’t understand how people don’t see beauty in this.

It may be a cold, pallid light. But she doesn’t think so. It’s the misty magical cyclops of the night sky. The governing beauty. The crowning keystone of it, in her view. Chariot of pearl.

She lapses into simply watching the night woodland pass by. The shadowed gnarled trees curling up to the heavens. Snow and frost still biting the air. It was thawing somewhat. But it’s not vanished just yet. It still crawls up the trees and lurks at the hard ground.

They arrive at the Phillips modest Manor House. Not two miles outside Pembleton. A most pretty house. Abutting the lane leading directly up next to the small local chapel.

There’s pink rosevines dead in winter, but still smothering most of the front of the white stone house. A modest Georgian manor of thirty rooms. Windows big and square and shining gold onto the gravelled drive that their coach crackles and shifts over as they arrive. Chimneys proudly blaze smoke. And the place looks merry and set on welcoming guests to a delightful dinner.

The Ashton’s are seen inside by the astute white wig clad butler. He takes their coats to the cloakroom, gives them to the footmen. And then shows them to the drawing room, the main parlour, where everyone is gathering. Fireplace making the room stuffy.

Candlelight drips apricot blaze of every wall. The parlour is furnished in trims of green and cream. Trimmed with luxurious velvet. Large gilded gold terrace doors overlook the frosty manicured gardens. Mrs Phillips does so love her tea roses. The air in the garden chokes with them even in this deadening winter.

They all graciously curtsey and bow to their hosts. Mama sits with Mrs Phillips and the other elder matrons. Mrs Phillips sits with her little toy poodle in her lap.

The fluffy little thing drowning under the weight of a ridiculous big pink silk bow tied at its neck. Papa begrudgingly folds his hands behind his back and gets beckoned over for a glass of port with Mr Phillips. He sends a look of dismay at his eldest.

Posy and Flora sit and gossip with their friend. Primrose Phillips. Their daughter. Iris stands alone. She wanders to admire the painting hung up by the terrace doors.

She leans closer, admiring the dark tones of the painting. The brushwork and the detail of the of the still life captured. A case of flowers. It’s very remarkable. She wished her parents appreciated such art over austere sketches of county churches.

Her spine suddenly alights with thrashing hot nerves. Like she’s been scorched by a candle flame and had the burn soothed straightaway with ice. It’s sharply powerful.

She turns where she had her back to the fireplace and all the gossiping Mama’s. Her breath catches just a little at the sight of Lord Ren filling the white parlour doorway.

Coming to bid his hosts a good evening. And his thanks at the invite. Mrs Phillips genially flatters the big man. He towers over all the elegant ladies sat down on their settees like some huge tall dark tree she imagines standing in some foreign forest. Massive and wide. Struck by lightning. Charred to dark cinders.

His eyes gaze downwards, and his jaw grits as Mrs Phillips ineffectual little lap dog starts emitting a low yappy growl. Snarling at the sable haired Lord.

It’s pathetic little maw pulling back over it’s tiny blunt slobbering teeth that gnash at him. Kylo raises a brow and looks down at the fetid creature.

He spears a slicing glance right at it for barely a second and then it’s cowering away.

Whimpering into its mistresses lap. Burying its head into her armpit and cowering. She’s cooing and fussing the awful snappy little thing. Promising it a plate of sweet meats, and a saucer of warm milk.

“I do so apologise, Lord Ren. Such a contrary creature. For my Puffin is never usually so shy of strangers.” She offers in her pitchy high voice. Almost as squeaky as that of her dog.

Hugging the intemperate thing and bouncing it in her lap, coddling it like a firstborn baby. Big silk rosebud bow fluttering in the air. Ugly scrunched up little face and nose of it hiding from him. The dog recognised now who the alpha in this room was.

Kylo tilts up a fleeting corner of his mouth in an attempt at a courteous smile.

“It’s nothing to apologise for, Ma’am. I am often cursed myself, with the same affliction of being wary of strangers.” He says in good humour. Making the ladies all titter laughter.

Iris blushes when he looks away from them and nods his bowed parting. Turns to look across to her. Focuses. Vision concentrated solely on her.

Those onyx gems of eyes settle on the back of that neck of hers. Slice into her. Lingering along the dip of the material that skimmed her fine shoulders and spilled down her shoulder blades.

His gigantic frame is not subtle in striding a swathe across the candle lit parlour. Coming straight to her. Making no secret about who he favours. Opening them both up to the speculation of the whole room-

He doesn’t care not even one bit.

The cool shade of him passes over her shoulder. Her cheeks flushed and she turns and politely curtseys to him. A politely soft “Lord Ren.” Leaves her lips. She feels the hair on the back of her neck raise a little in excitement. Bristling to stand like needles.

He smirks. His kind were the reasons humans had that tingling gut sense. That primal indicator of visceral fear. The hairs on the back of the neck existed solely for the simple reason that blood lusting creatures, demons, such as him walked this earth. She should learn to trust in those instincts more.

Danger present more than ever. For now, there’s a devil at her shoulder.

“Miss Ashton.” He greets simply. Hands composed behind his back. Big chest swells again. No part of this man is small. Every muscle is a huge slab, big and brutally built. Long strong plains of him at every turn.

He takes her hand and kisses it. He’s not wearing gloves. Neither is she. His hands are ice- must be the cold out of doors, she thinks.

Their bare hands touch for the first time. Skin on skin.

It’s electrifying. Sparks skip and shimmer through them.

He bites back a growl as he finally finally finally gets a nose full of her bare skin. Touches her hand. His nose nuzzles her flesh for a second.

Just one scant second. And then he has to enforce every shred of willpower he owns and knows, in order to pull away.

She’s as exquisite as he dreamt. As he lusted about. Her skin is the most dangerous thing about her. Because it’s the hardest thing he’s had to do to resist tasting more of it. The gorgeous scent and the salt of the bare skin. Hint of spicy lavender. Chalky bergamot soap she used. The fragrance of silk on her skin.

Bewitching. Her scent sends a tremor through his usually dead spine.

Tonight his garb as is midnight ink dark as it usually is. Velvet black waistcoat. Obsidian breeches and shining proud boots and brushed overcoat. With a cream cravat and a white shirt. Like the full moon out in that black sky tonight. Pearl trim backed with sable. His cravat diamond pin glitters - oddly enough - like a far off star.

If he looks like a winters sky shrouded by a pearly moon. She looks the opposite. Her blue dress is the colour of the brightest searing shade of a summers sky. Her eyes made brilliant by it. And he likes the silk blue ribbon tumbled prettily into her hair. Like some stream trickling through a golden meadow on a midsummers eve.

“If I may say, how beautiful you look tonight. Miss Ashton.” He smiles. Hands folded back once more. His wide chest puffing out freely. His intimidating size at its usual ferocity.

She feels her cheeks heat a little more. “Thankyou your, Lordship.” She flusters. “I’m sure I deserve no such meaningful praise. It is only a plain silk dress.” She dismisses.

“Made striking by she who wears it.” He insists. She smiles at her feet. Diverting the attention.

“How is that big beautiful horse of yours?” She asks nicely. He smirks a little. His eyes are charcoal-honey from the the nearby candlelight. He likes her enquiry.

“He is very well. Misbehaving himself plenty. And nearly threw me yesterday on account of mutiny and protest for want of more carrots.” He jokes.

“Oh dear.” She laughs. “I seem to have caused dissension in your own stables.” She apologised. Sorry he almost got hurt.

“He shouldn’t be too perturbed at me. I’m the only one who rides him out.” He offers.

“I should like to ride more. We only have the two horses on the farm and they are often reserved for use in labour out in the fields. And there always seems far too many errands stacked against me to indulge in the pastime.” She tells.

“Then I must beg you come over and use Erland as much as you should wish to. He is rather fond of you. And Hellford is a vast estate of which ride on. I should be delighted it gets use beyond someone other than myself.” He offers.

“I thank you for the invitation. I’ve never fully seen all of Hellford.” She explains. “Only the front parlour and that was very long ago. I was only a little girl then.”

“You must come again and honour it with another visit.” He concludes.

“Hellford’s grounds are very handsomely kept. The rose gardens are exquisite. And there’s 4 acres of woodland with plenty of good riding routes. I’d be vastly happy to show you them, any time you should like.” His smile tipped a little at the corners. Breaking up the stoicism of his usually stern scowl.

“That’s very kind. As long as you are sure it won’t interrupt any of your business endeavours.” She offers politely.

“My business was concluded days ago. I’m most happily and currently at my own leisure.”

She smiles in agreement. “That must be so relaxing.”

Iris wished she had one day whereby she could be at her own peace. Do as she liked. Go wherever she wanted and not have anyone else’s expectations hanging over her like heavy nimbuses.

“It has its merits.” He smiles lightly down at her. Before his eyes flicker to the painting over her shoulder that she was admiring.

“There’s even a Velasquez in the foyer at Hellford. Just begging to admired by appreciative eyes.” He adds. Her face lights up.

“I’ve never seen a real Diego Velasquez in person. Only pictures from books in my fathers study.” She says in amazement.

“His ‘Los Barrochos’ hangs in my hallway.” Kylo says with a hint of pride. “Now you simply have to visit, to come see it. Purely on unselfish grounds, Miss Ashton. Just for the arts sake.” He smarts.

She smiles back. Apples of her cheeks pinking up again. “I would be delighted. No art should go unappreciated after all. You’re quite correct.” She smiles with good natured levity.

His eyes gleam almost warmly, with wickedly pleased satisfaction. Crushed charcoal and honey of his eyes are captivating to look into. To drown in. That’s exactly what she does.

Across the parlour, where a whole gaggle of mama’s and daughters are watching the room, speculating about it. They weren’t aware, but many eyes were glued to Iris and Lord Ren.

Posy and Flora shared a pleased giddy look that the first time they’ve actually seen the severe man almost lets a smile crack his marble statue façade, and it’s because of their sister.

“I think your dear Iris may have caught the biggest, richest prize in the pond. Mrs Ashton.” Mrs Phillips says with a smug proud expression, leans towards Iris’s mother and gently taps her hand. They were fond companions after all. Mrs Phillips other podgy hand, laden with pearl brackets and fat gemstone rings, was fondly stroking at Puffin’s ears now he’s calmed down.

Caroline looks across at her eldest as she converses with Lord Ren. A slight frown crinkles her brow.

“She would do vastly well to land a Lord.” Miss Smith Interjects. Sat on Caroline’s immediate right.

She was a willowy woman. Figure like many twigs glued together. Gawky face. Beak of a long nose that she took great delight in shoving into business that was not her own. She was a harmless woman really. The general village busy body, and a spinster at three and fifty. Another close confidant and friend in the gossip vine for Caroline Ashton.

“For Hellford is such a handsome house. Biggest land holding in all the county... Think what a lucky girl she would be to be mistress of it!” Miss Smith adds. Giggling in excitement like a young girl.

Mrs Phillips steals another glance at the handsome couple. “They do make a fine pair. For she’s fairly handsome and he’s rich. Their children would be such darling things. Very dark colouring. But I fear he’s not to everyone’s taste...Something very, prohibitive, about his manner that I cannot place.” She decides.

“I heard he takes little joy in anything. It is most odd.” Miss Smith agrees with their host most eagerly.

“He does not dance. He barely drinks. His conversation is little and dry. And beyond the sport of his estate he rarely circulates in society. That must the foreign way of things in Bavaria.” Miss Smith sniffs with disdain. Turning her nose up at the merest intimation of something foreign.

“Foreign and continental European manners are certainly nothing to admire.” Mrs Phillips declares. The ladies three then look at the young couple again.

“Mmmm. I would suspect that an attachment is starting to bloom thereabouts...” She adds cunningly. As casually as if she was looking out her window and deciding the weather.

“If they do marry. One can’t doubt the match would indisputably fine. But we would rarely see her if she marries a man so limited from the ton... what a cruelty that would be on her! Not to mention his estate is in Bavaria. What a grave loss she would be to us all.” Mrs Phillips croons sadly.

Caroline looks over to her daughter. Where the shadow of the inexcusably large man and his dark shade looms over her. They are conversing quietly and genially with each other. If she’s not mistaken, she spots a brush of pink to Iris’s cheeks.

“Indeed. I cannot doubt as fine a proposition as he would be... I would be more greatly comforted by her being settled here. At home. Nearer to us all.” Caroline insists to both her companions.

“What about Brendol Hux’s son? Armitage. Wasn’t there a téndre between them some while ago? Now there. Perhaps that may be rekindled to better everyone’s satisfactions?” Miss Smith nods gladly cupping Caroline’s hand. As if Iris’s affairs were her very own to meddle with.

“Indeed. I should not wish for poor Iris to marry so high above her dignity. She shouldn’t quit her sphere. Lord Ren should go and find himself an Heiress or a nice Duchess, if he must marry. That would do him well.” Mrs Phillips ultimately decides.

Stouton, the excellently precise butler, enters the room and gives a dignified sharp nod to Mrs Phillips. Who announces to the room that dinner is ready. As the highest ranking gentleman in the room, Lord Ren escorts the lady of the house in to dine. Everyone follows in their lead.

The dining room is very prettily done in shades of red and gold. The table groans with the amount of polished silverware. Glassware twinkles in the light off the fire and the numerous candles. Air spiced by the silver tiered platters of exotic fruit sitting in the table centre at measures intervals. Deep scent of plums and fleshy red apples gently radiate their sweet scent up the air. Red grapes drip from these rich arrangements.

Everyone is seated according to rank and hierarchy. Mrs Phillips crowns the head of the table in her gown of demure blush muslin. Train drifted behind her like a galleon setting sail when the stout portly woman moved.

Kylo is placed to Mrs Phillips’ right. Iris is lower down in rank. But she is placed two places opposite him across the finely laid table. Smooth as a square of white marble is the laid linen tablecloth.

Mrs Phillips oversees the serving of the white soup. A frothy pallid broth made of veal stock, egg yolks, ground almonds and cream. To be eaten demurely along with the light conversation. Of which is quick to flourish along the table in this bored-rigid country society.

Kylo sups down his soup, and he is caught by the change in topics as it shifts. Mr Phillips is speaking up to Mr Ashton about it.

“Did you hear that the Norris’s lost one of their farm hands last eve. Just dreadful news...” Mr Phillips croaks up. Shaking his head into his wine glass.

Kylo watches Iris innocently turn her head in the conversations intended direction. Two seats down from her. His eyes follow the pretty turn of her head. He tried not to look too closely at the elegant line of her pale throat. Nor at the little drop of red wine that lingered in the corner of her lips.

He imagined it dripping its smooth rolling path down her neck. Over that pearl necklace. Only he didn’t exactly imagine it was wine...

More people engage in the horrid nature of the conversation. Society being shocked by it. “Where was the Norris’s farm hand found?” Miss Smith piped up. Eager for details. Aghast. Clutching her chest in overdone fright.

“Middle of the woods apparantly. He’d run for some time away from whatever terror hunted him. Looked like an animal had set to him something vicious, according to the local magistrate. Poor fool.” Mr Phillips announces morbidly.

Ah yes. Kylo remembers the one. The second farm hand he’d feasted on.

He’d watched from the shadows as the letch tried to snatch a young maids purse outside the chapel. She’d been coming back from a dance on her own late at night. He’d watched the man grope her with fat wandering meaty hands. Squeezed her bottom and her bosom and terrified her. Told her gruffly he could either take her money or her virginity. Left her sobbing in the dirt and ran off cackling with her purse.

Kylo followed his foul stench. Gin and rot of sweat and various vile body odours souring his nose. He wasn’t hard to find.

Followed the disgrace of a man deep into the heart of the woods. The idiot soon caught wind of his feral aggressor and ran fleeing. He caught him. And he ripped him to pieces and drank him all down. Was still picking bits of him out his teeth, come to mention it.

His tongue idly strokes the front of one of his canines at the memory of it.

“Is it man or beast that killed him?” Mrs Phillips asks.

“Someone up near Lord Hearst’s estate say that a wolf had been spotted thereabouts lately.”

“A wolf!” Miss Smith shrilled. “Oh, good heavens.” She frets. Dramatically dripping her soup spoon.

“Do not be uneasy. Miss Smith.” Mr Ashton declares. Patting her hand nicely where he’s sat next to her.

“It is folly. Surely. There haven’t been wolves in this country since the Hundred Years’ War.” Mr Ashton declares. “Fret not.”

“Of course those are the rumours circulating on the estates. Especially surrounding Hellford.” Mrs Phillips pipes up. Turning her attention to Lord Ren. Many pairs of curious scared eyes swivelled to the man near the head of table, as he took a sip of his red wine.

“I’m afraid I cannot offer any consolation nor relay any satisfaction upon the matter. I have seen no such beast on my land, Mrs Phillips. Maybe it is a stray dog... after all...” He trails away. Eating another mouthful of the white soup.

“There is always such gossip prone to over exaggerate these things, is there not?” He drawls lowly. His dark eyes flicker up and land in Iris‘s own. His smile smoothly twitches. He couldn’t help it.

His meaning scared her. For she did not know it’s intention. His eyes looked different when he remarked upon that. They looked... odd. Like cloud passing over a sunny day. Something then swarmed his eyes. And it looked feral.

A shiver rockets down her spine. Makes her breath spurt out ragged and catch in her throat.

Posy is sat on Iris’s left and she’s determined not to be left out the conversation. She must have her share in it. “My friend remarked that he heard it was a huge black Wolf with bright yellow eyes the colour of sunflowers.” She remarks.

“Posy. I think that may be idle speculation.” Iris insists lightheartedly.

Posy frowns stroppily. “I heard it directly from Mary Sampson’s mouth. And she never tells tall tales.” She insists firmly. Iris nods and goes back to eating her soup.

“Maybe it’s the work of a mad man?” Miss Smith pipes up worriedly. Iris swore she hears the room collectively heave a sigh of annoyance into their soup spoons.

“Some nasty beastly mad man roaming the countryside and cutting people up who come across his path. He might be vicious. What’s next? He could decide to come and murder us in our beds.” She panics pithily. “Cut our throats in the night!!” She says frenziedly.

“Oh I shall have to get Barlow to put another bolt lock on my bedroom door or I shall never sleep again!” She declares.

She did so fuss over the most inconsequential of things. Like the time she swore that the black plague was making a comeback - for she heard her maid sneeze three times in a row one day whilst bringing her tea. She was so prone to hysterics and exaggeration.

Kylo wants to roll his eyes at her stupidity. Maybe his next victim should be her- maybe he should slaughter her in her bed. Rid the world of her vapid panicking.

Iris smiles gently across at the flustered spinster. “Don’t overexert yourself, Miss Smith. I’m sure it’s just town gossip conjured up with the intention of frightening us.” She soothes.

“I’m sure it’s not as evil as it first seems... There may be more reasons as to why they lost their lives.”

Kylo does look at her right then. His little dove. Sat there with her brow all creased up with worry for this vapid inconsequential woman.

She truly does have a heart of gold.

Mrs Phillips speaks up again. “You know I did hear that two of the men were known drunkards. And one of them was found next to a lane. It seemed he wandered into the road after drinking a skinful and was struck by a speeding carriage. Poor soul.” She declares.

“And the other man was robbed. Though he was rumoured to be the horrid purse snatcher who lurked around the chapel last week. Some other desperate thief must’ve caused his unfortunate death out of want of his loot. There, there, my dear. All is well.” Mrs Phillips ladled comfort into her friend. Smiling heartily at her.

Miss Smith seems to settle down. She nods. Hand clasped dramatically to her chest. Mr Ashton pours her more wine and she takes back great thudding gulps of it.

Iris shares another fleeting look with Lord Ren. He smiles delicately at her. Mr Phillips resumes his usual spouting on and on about the grouse season. He ropes Kylo into an invite to come shoot his grouse whenever he pleases. Miss Smith keenly traps the ladies into a conversation about printed cotton.

They talk all through the next course about more savoury things. They are served broiled partridges with gravy for the next, and an entire haunch of roasted venison. Cooked to retain just a tinge of pink. And just a slight dribble of ichor when the meat was sliced into. Served with stewed sopping celery drowned in cream. And buttered carrots and boiled potatoes. The food swamped the table in great big heaped portions on silver platters.

Kylo was glad they didn’t cook such a rich meat until it was a slab of boiled grey toughness. He tears his sharp teeth into the slices of roast deer and eats his big fill. Licks the iron-copper tinge of blood off his lips. It lightly sates the animal gnawing at his belly. But he needs proper blood.

Needs the liquid metal rush of it pouring down his throat and staining his white teeth crimson.

The full moon was bringing out his more feral senses. It always does. Gets him restless and baying for blood with a hell of a thirst. The need to feed more intense than ever.

As the pudding arrives, Kylo is sipping more claret and letting his suave black gaze wander over to Miss Ashton again. She’s talking to one of her innumerable silly pests of a sister.

He lets his eyes stroke along her, and admire her for a second. Such a gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by Caroline Ashton. Down the table she sees Lord Rens gaze linger on Iris- and she wonders...

Her reverie is broken by the arrival of pudding. As it was still colder, a steaming great whitepot pudding is served. Bread and butter and cream with currants dotted into the sponge. Flavoured with mace and nutmeg. Alongside this is served a tower of marzipan fruit and cold fruit tartlets. Lots of sugar and whipped cream and strawberries steeped in sugar syrup.

Lord Ren does not oblige himself in sweets. He’ll have his fill later. Find some wandering idiot drunk to indulge his true appetites.

Evebtually, the ladies separate from the gentlemen. They are left around the table to smoke cheroots, or sip port, as the ladies retire to the parlour for embroidery or gossip.

Kylo watches his little dove stand and head away. Smiling demurely at him before she goes. He snatched up every second of it.

She turns and walks away, led by her sister. He longs after the nape of her neck as she departs. The pale arch of it kissed by dark twirls of hair.

She feels like she can’t breathe until she gets out of the room. She takes a deep breath and wets her lips as they come to the second parlour.

Mrs Phillips particular favourite room. For her particular use. Iris can see why; it’s gaudy and decorated to drowning point with rosebud fabrics. Its nature was definitely intended to be ladies room. Draped and stuffed with pink velvety drapes, cream carpets and gold gilded French furniture. Pillows and cushions stuffed onto the settee in blush rose print. Ruffles and flounces and so many more eye-watering trims.

Iris feels a little nauseous walking into the sickly sweet room. But she sits dutifully on the settee by the window and sips whatever snifter Mrs Phillips put into her hand. Negus, Iris thinks it might be. A favourite punch at balls. Port mixed with boiled water, nutmeg and sugar syrup.

Mrs Phillips insists something warming helps aid with the digestion. Flora and Posy are feeding little nuggets of sweet meats to Puffin the toy dog as he yips for more. Mother is talking with her matrons again.

And Iris is sat looking out at the moon. Candlelight casts up one side of her face. She lets it’s watery gently light wash over her. Listen to the matrons giggling in their corner. And Posy and Flora gossiping with Primrose.

She thinks how nice it must be to be entirely thousands of miles away. Alone in the sky. Free of burden. Just being known for casting beautiful light onto the earth.

“Pleasant, isn’t she?” Comes a deep voice at her side. Deeper and thicker than oozing warm honey.

She smiles. The gentlemen have come in. Fresh from their all male talk and their port and their smoking. Brandy and cheroot smoke sticks to his coat. Though he didn’t imbibe in either. Just more port.

Lord Ren is stood by her side again. Arms behind his back in their usual place. Looking up at the very orb of a thing that’s firing his blood. Then he glances downwards and sees the earth-bound mortal form of the woman who does the very same. Only she’s touched on more softer, hidden parts of him.

“Such beauty.” She remarks. She tilts her head up at it. “Some remark it is a cold light. But-“

“I disagree.” Lord Ren adds. Interjecting. Smiles down at her. When she looks up. The flash of her pale skinned neck and the side of her jaw cast in the moon and the candlelight makes his mouth water. Her eyes are divinely silver. Just like another soul he knows and loves...

“There is mystery. For even the moon has her burdens and her secrets. The brightest thing in the sky has the darkest side that’s never revealed to a soul.” He supposed. His eyes catching in hers.

She can see by the weighting of his granite eyes. That he means that phrase very deeply.

“Much the same as people. I grant. Enigmatic, if they so choose to be.” She says.

“Some darker sides of people, Miss Ashton, should never see the light.” He tells her.

She feels like he’s speaking from experience. She opens her mouth to ask. But her mother hissing her name and gesturing her over with a spurring-curling motion of her hand, breaks the hypnotic spell his eyes gripped on her.

She looks back up at him. He extends a hand to help her up. There’s that thrill of electricity again. Needles up her arm and wracks at her spine.

“I think it likely my mother will encourage us home soon. I’ll take my leave of you now.” She says sadly. Though she doesn’t wish too- he feels her sadness and her dread.

She curtseys. Bows her neck to him. Dips at her knees. He doesn’t relinquish his gentle clasp of her hand.

“Until next time, Miss Ashton.” He drawls low.

She dies on the spot when her turns her palm over and presses a kiss to her sensitive weak hand. Holding her fingers with one hand and rubbing his thumb over the spot he just kissed.

His lips are devilishly soft and when he looks up at her her spine crumbles. She shivers and he hears it. Her chest flutters a breath with it.

“I bid you good evening, Lord Ren. It was a pleasure.”

“The pleasure was entirely mine.” He hushes so low. He manages to make his words sound sordid. Rascally and humming deep. So deep her bones rang with it and all her the soft tissue meat of her, quivers.

This feels like seduction.

Knee weakening seduction. She feels her cheeks beating out unattractive pink heat. Flushed from head to toe. Breath stutters into her pathetic shrivelling lungs. She doesn’t know what this is- what this man is wielding onto her. She’s never felt the likes of it before.

She takes her hand from him, drags her eyes from the addictive granite pools of his, and steps aside to go to her mother. As she bade. She feels his eyes on her back as she walks away across the room.

She curls her hand into a fist. So she might better preserve the searing memory of his kiss.

It’s ridiculous and silly. But she keeps her hand fisted shut the whole way home. Thinks back to the hunger in his eyes and feels flushed whenever she remarks how it sat there- all for her and her alone.

The whole world seems asleep. When the vampires roam to feed. Kylo swore this whole sleepy county is deaf and dull now. Even the very last scullery maid of every grand house, and kitchen skivvy had extinguished the very last candle hours ago. Night looms thick and bitter.

The moon in all her pallid smudgy eminence, still owns the whole sky and blots out the glory of the stars. Gently kissing onto the navy heavens. Kylo has hunted under that very same silver moon.

It recharged the restless rough animal in his bloodstream.

Tonight, after dining, He took his leave. Took to the woods. Waited. Chased down his prey and drank his fill. Toasting his success under that watery bright light. Left the mangled and twisted body like a mortal offering of a sacrifice to the old gods. Basted the landscape in the blood he didn’t want, watering the icy crusted dirt of the earth. Staining the snow.

Humans all went back into the earth at the end. Returned to the mud and soil and rot of where they came from. Decayed to frail dirty bones and that’s all that remains. He was just helping them get there a tad quicker.

Crimson blooms down his white shirt and white cravat. It trails down the corner of his mouth and chin until he licks it clean. Sucks up the remains with his fingers til his face is clean. Garnet however is still marring his white square teeth.

His eyes are still golder than coin. Fresh off the hunt. Dappled in blood. And he finds himself stepping through the dark-dead, grey wood. To a place that now seemed familiar to him.

The house is dark. Every window dull. Even the dormers in the attic where their maids slept, even there all is deathly dark like the eye of a skull. He sets his sights on one bedroom window in particular.

Her window was cracked open- and when he gets up to it, silent as a shadow, he sees why. The fire makes her room too muggy. This way the stifling sticky heat had somewhere to escape too.

Her curtains are drawn, twitching on the breeze. And the fireplace lit at the end of her bed, across the room in the Morris wallpapered alcove of the hearth, casts the room in amber. As if she’s encased in it. Trapped. Preserved like an item of jewellery in this flamed room.

That wasn’t too far away from an accurate description. She is trapped. One day she’ll be sold into marriage by her mother. Then she’ll be trapped by the fetid husband she’s supposed to serve obediently; to wait on hand and foot, and dole out his heir and a spare, like she’s shelling peas.

He sneaks his big hand under the crack in the sash window, silently lifts it up and slips inside. Curtains rustle and he leaves them pushed apart to fit through. Steps down onto her windowsill, then onto the floor. His clothes barely make a rasp. His shoes don’t even scrape the whining buckled floorboards.

He’s inside, and his golden eyes catch onto the sleeping little dove, huddled up as a lump into the quilts of her bed.

Her hair is loose and crumpled around her head. Face turned away from him. Night down slipping off a shoulder. Wispy thin. Like gauzy moth wings. Exposing her chest, the shadowed mounding globes of her breasts. Swelling and falling.

He can see the thud of her mortal heart wrack her skin. Pulsing her throat. Thudding out her wrists. Beating that lavender and bergamot soap scent out to his senses. Calling to him. Enslaving him. The creature she could never have a hope to tame.

He gazes at her as he rounds the end of the bed. Softly paces around it. She won’t wake. His nature makes highly sure of that. Vampires are after all, darkly magic animals. Predatory too. He can stun his prey the way he wants. The way he needs too. He’ll lull her body into deep sleep like a newborn. Seduce her weak mortal self to bend to his will.

He sits on the mattress near her hip. Watching her face sloped peaceful in gentle rest. His blood crusted hands reach out, drying rust caked at his nails, big fingertips slipping over her knuckles where her hand lay down by her side. The other folded across her waist.

He strokes along her arm. Watches her rest. Soothes his animosity with the tactile soft of her innocent skin.

His fingers travel upwards to her hair. He lifts it off her neck and rakes his fingers through the golden-brown wave of it. It drifts through his fingers like spun bronzed-gold that smells of French lavender.

A big wave of heat and perfume of bare skin hits him when he peels her hair away. Warm from where she’s cosily snuggled into her pillow.

He moans desperately. Like a wounded animal. The most gut-wrenching sob falls out his mouth.

He can’t help it. Moth to a flame. He’s drawn across the bed until his lips hit at her skin. Tracing the jugular in her throat. He tremors with need. From being within the barest millimetre of being able to taste her warm skin. That manna sent from heaven, put on this earth for him alone to savour.

“What in gods name are you doing to me, little dove?” He gasps. His speech muffled into her skin. He kisses at her hot throat and growls low in his when he feels her blood beat under his tongue.

This close to her- and he didn’t want to tear open her throat with the white knives of his sharp teeth. She’s worth more than that.

Oh, he knew she’d taste so sweet to feast on. He just knows it. She will. She’ll taste like thick honey and coins and sugared copper.

“You take me so beyond any lust or any need I’ve ever felt in my entire life.” He promises to her.

He’s still close. Kissing hot embraces of butterfly kisses at her neck. Gold eyes glittering so stark in the blue and amber half light of her bedchamber. Like yellowed cats eyes.

“What is this?” He asks her. “What I feel for you- how does it never stop?...” He begs to know. Begs to be shown clarity over this force.

His chest brushes into hers where she lays on the bed. He kisses up to her jaw. His adoring fingers skim over her cheek. Finding her cheekbone and trailing along its shape under her tender skin.

He kisses her jawbone and moans again. Hum of his deep voice soaking trembling into her skin from his hot blooded mouth. Copper souring in his tongue and teeth.

“I so long to kiss you.” He aches for it. Aches so deep it’s a physical pain in his gut. He groans, hard already at the merest thought of it. And that was just at tasting her mouth-

“But I want you awake and willing in my arms when I kiss you for the first time. I’ll have you trembling and weak for me. Now I just have to wait to be able to taste those pretty lips.” He whispers onto her chin.

Adores her face like this whilst he can. Top of his nose presses under her jaw and he takes a deep breath of her neck, whimpering with need.

He pants into her neck once more. “Sleep well. Little dove.”

He strokes her cheek kisses it one last time before he tears himself off the bed and slips away. Leaving her room as smoothly as a silent shadow.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

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oliivverwood · 5 years

Text

power struggles

viktor/ron + medieval for anon

Viktor did not want to court Hermione Granger.

She ruled her nation with a kind heart and an iron fist. She was intelligent, smarter than the rest of her dukes and nobles, and they all knew it too. She was as beautiful as she was clever--which said a lot.

Viktor wasn't interested.

She wasn't her type.

Shes weren't his type.

However, due to the will of his father, he had to travel to his country, where he'd stay for a long, long, long, time.

But.

The knight.

The knight that Viktor had been provided with by Lady Granger, graciously.

The knight was his type.

"This is Sir Weasley. He is one of our strongest knights, and a strategist. " Someone, some introducer, someone who was now irrelevant, had presented him with the knight.

And.

Viktor felt hungry.

Weasley said nothing.

When they met, Weasley's mouth was in a firm, straight line, well trained to not say a word unless addressed. He held himself tall, shoulders back, chest out. Weasley had rust colored hair, alluring and brash in the sunlight, so different from the people in his country. He filled out his armour and uniforms quite nicely.

In Viktor's opinion.

Weasley's post was inside his room, back to the door, facing the rest of the space. The castle guards would be outside the room. It was protective. It was secretive.

Viktor had eyes.

He could see Weasley's eyes raking his body up and down when he prepared for bed.

Viktor was courting now, yes.

It was not Lady Hermione Granger.

They first spoke, an actual conversation, a week after Viktor moved into the castle.

Granted, Viktor had to order it out, a little bit.

His first name was Ronald.

Viktor called him Ron.

Their conversation was stilted, and started off slightly uncomfortable. Viktor had a strong accent. Ron had orders not to interact with the nobles unless instructed.

Sooner than later, however, it wasn't awkward anymore.

Viktor confided to the knight that he had no interest in being a suitor for the Queen.

Ron told him that these arrangements didn't require love anyways. It was a union of power. An exhibit of strength.

Viktor then murmured, wistfully, "I'm a romantic."

Ron Weasley was from a once poor family of seven children.

It had been months since Viktor moved in. Ron was comfortable with talking to Viktor freely.

Ron told him about his family. About their struggles. How they loved each other dearly, and would do anything for each other. He was the odd child out. Unmarried.

It made Viktor wonder for siblings. What they would be like, if his childhood wasn't so lonely. It also made him wonder how Ron was unmarried. He was handsome, strong, smart. A knight.

Then Ron had met Harry, an orphaned Duke, humble and kind and he'd loved Ron like a brother. And then the Weasleys weren't poor anymore.

The story was short.

A week afterwards, Viktor kissed Ron.

He felt sick afterwards.

He felt disgusted.

"I'm s-so sorry." He stammered, aghast.

He had power. Ron did not.

He took advantage.

Ron did not say anything for a long time, but he would not let Viktor leave, either. When the prince had turned away, he grabbed his wrist, gently and tugged him into Viktor's private quarters, and said nothing. Did nothing. His fingers still circled around his wrist.

It was agonising. Viktor should not have been so stupid. He should have-

"Do it again." Ron commanded. He made the demand with such force, his voice only cracking a little, that Viktor could only scramble to comply. Ron had the cards. It wasn't Viktor over Ron, anymore. Ron had the power, and Viktor willingly let him, would let him, always.

And he kissed him again. Slower. Softer. Hands on the back of his neck, Ron's red hair tickling his hands. When they parted, Ron's just whispered "again."

So they did. Again. Again. Again. They locked the doors. Moved to the bed.

Again. Again. Again.

Queen Hermione married Viktor, without the intention of loving him, because her heart had gone to her handmaid, Pansy. The two members of royalty struck up a close friendship, and nothing more. It was an arrangement for the public to relish, and for them to satisfy the power struggles between their nations.

And Viktor's knight, Sir Ronald Weasley remained his right hand man, dutifully guarding the King's room, every day.

Again, again, again.

#hp #text #SADIE + REQUESTS #kron #vikron #viktor krum x ron weasley #viktor/ron #hprarepair #hprarepairnet #hpminorcharnet #quidditchleaguenet

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nekomiras · 4 years

Note

Since I didn't see anyone ask about the homestuck au I feel obligated to ask as a fellow Homestuck (insert Homestuck police image (you know the one) here)

Oh fuck oh no the homestuck au oh shit

There’s not much content here, I just organized them on classpects I thought they’d fit and put some of them as trolls (Also, alternia here is quite different from canon)

I think the most fun on this au is explaing my process to thinking why I decided what I did, so this is gonna be a quite repetitive and long post, sorry y’all

Kids:

Evan: Witch of Breath, his aspect basically because he has the leader role but it’s not something he takes control himself, it’s about the freedom he seeks and then incentivating others to join him, I chose the class of the witch since it’s the active change class, wich means he changes the aspect/changes through for himself, let’s think about games for me to explain you- he hates games where he has to do something like it tells him to, and love the games where he can use his liberty to have fun in whatever way he finds. I also have him as a prospit dreamer for reasons that I don’t really want to explain since it’ll get so repetitive, you guys getting the moons I say so >:)!

Tyler: Actually a Rogue of Time. I can’t lie I really wanted a timeplayer on the kids side, but I think I got a good thinking here, stay with me- The fighting aspect, the fact they don’t accept things as they are and act to change instead of just waiting things happen, the impatience- I quote the extended zodiac definition of time players: “You can’t tell them to sit still and look pretty”, plus, the rogue part of his title, the passive stealing class, someone who steal the from/through the aspect for others. A rogue can be generous and receptive, with strong ideals, on the worst cases they can bee too impulsive and apathetic. I’m not like 100% sure but I needed him as a time player and this classpect with him as a derse dreamer fit so well on how I expect him to be in this au, looking really self-centered and yet doing all he does for others instead of himself!

Nogla: Green boy is our Knight of Space! I mean... With Tyler’s description you might expect him to be te opposite, as a space player his job is to not worry about where things go, and pretty much enjoy the ride! He does understand that he needs to do things so they go the way you want to, he just don’t usually worry about it that much, he worries more about how he’s doing something than what he’s doing, and that gets him to the creative aspect, wich is why he, as a space player, is the one with the mission to creat the new universe! But that’s not all, he’s a knight!! The passive serving class are known to have a mask that’s supposed to make their friends trust them more than they trust themselves, Nogla’s is that he acts way more positive and stupid than he actually is so people around him believe him to be trustworthy, it also makes him feel safer around people that he trust are not using him. Sometimes the mask has a different effect and people thinks he’s annoying tho. But the thing with knghts are that they want to be there to help his friends, always, so he ends up being way too selfless and, well, as Tyler says: Actually stupid. He’s also a prospit dreamer, he’s just baby I love him.

Our last kid is Marcel!! He’s a Seer of Rage! His aspect comes from his chaotic side, as a rage player, he believes that society is full of lies, and there’s nothing he hates more than someone not telling the truth to him, he wants to know what’s actually happening so he can act on his passive knowledge class of seer, someone that looks to know more so he can be able to help their colleagues by acting his advices himself, he can get easily frustated when things don’t go the way he wants them to, and in the worst case can get upset enough to become agressive, as a derse dreamer he gets even more chaotic and easily frustaded. Besides, both his dream pajamas and his god tier pajamas are purple and he looks amazing in the color ;)

Trolls:

Now we go for the alliens, the descriptions will get even longer since I have to tell what’s their blood is, I won’t be explaining aspects and classes that are showing up again on this case, but if you want a more especific analysis from me in one of the boys just send me another ask!

Cartoonz: Rust blood- Adventurous, craving for new experiences far from home and often not cautious enough when agitated? Well, that makes me feel less bad about choosing his blood on the color red lol. Jk, I mean, his blood I chose on color, but I also believe that he’d do a great alternian lowblood rebel! And as a derse dreamer Prince of Time? Well, the aspect you get what I mean from Tyler description, but boy, the active destruction class does fit him in the way I wanted, he can get way too confident on his habilities, with motive of course! He’s capable of incredible things!!! But his confidence can make him impose himself on others as authority, his ideals are important for him and he’s difficult to change his mind, he does what he deems right while still showing how much he cares for the little things around him. He’s someone trustwothy and a incredible good leader besides not being in the relationships side of aspects! Plus, what’s better than get our infamous King Toonz as the prince in the game?

Squirrel: I mean... Bronze blood?? Obviously?? Warm and generous?? Slow to open without having someone else besides them?? Open hearted?? Afinity to animals??? Needy of attention and affection?? Polite when upset?? Basically babies??????? Yup! Plus, once again the color guided me this way-- But anyway! He’s a (oh my god I forgot I put him as this but fuck yeah) Thief of Doom! Doom y’all know as the bad aspect about death and shit but listen to me! The extended zodiac explains that doom players tend to be sufferers, that through their difficulties became wise and empathetic of others surffering, not the advice friend, but the friend that can confort, we’re talking about our sweet Dead Squirrel here my guys! And then I got this idea of putting him as a thief and oh my gosh I hate thieves but I loved this idea so much I kinda want use it in a homestuck rpg I do with some friends! The thieve is the active stealing class, wich means he does what a rogue does, but for themselves, while rogues give away what they steal for others, thieves keep it for themselves, it’s normally interpretated as egoist and that’s why I hate them, but being the boy we’re talking about, even if Squirrel steals the doom aspect to keep it for himself, he does it in a selfless act of trying to protect his friends from it, you can interpretate him as a knight kind of person here but I’ll stay with a derse dreamer Thief of Doom!

Smiity is our gold blood and it’s not because of the vibes he and Sollux share with red an blue glasses yOU SHUT UP! But for real, yellow trolls have the whole psych thing but what I ended up loving about putting Smiit as one is the facts that, they like to talk even if the people around the don’t wanna hear, they tend to accidentaly force their opinions in other people and if the person feels sorry about it all they can get axious easily about their actions, but still do it because it’s themselves, and I love to take this as Smiit’s careless way to act combined with his canadian way to be nice and I love it! He’s a derse dreamer Rogue of Rage, I explained both before, so really basic: he straight up just spreads chaos.

Brian: He’s our mutant lime, our candy red blooded troll!! Decided on his decisions (”if i wanna do it i’ll do it fuck you”), he can be quite the drama queen, he exagerates his feelings since he can’t hide them, he’s has caring and empathetic instincts and he’s so goddamn loyal, Once again quoting the extended zodiac: “ Romance is extremely important to Lime Signs, and when they fall, they fall hard. They don't take rejection well, and a breakup can send them into a tailspin requiring an extended period of recovery.”. And he’s our sweet derse dreamer Knight of Breath! Another one who was already basically explained, his title makes him the one who wants to bring freedom to his friends. His mask is of a confident flirty while he himself is scared of not being what people expects him to be. Fuck I love this Irish handsome bitch.

Panda: He’s an olive blooded troll! They’re described to be generous and sweet, ready to help if someone needs, they’re not really good with changes but they’re the type to drop anything to get into helper mode. But oh damn, they’re not afraid of just getting up and going out if something is not as they like. He’s a prospit dreamer Seer of Life, seer was already kinda of explained, and I put him as life bounded because of their empathetic side and how I can see Anthony as a (sometimes moody) healer! I can’t lie that his was one of the last classpects that I thought of and I wanted to fit him as a Life player, if there are other suggetions I’d like to hear too!!

Moo: Well, jade bloods are basically the default moms right? I mean, this is supposed to be expected right? I mean, I can’t even quote the extended zodiac because I’d be just copying and pasting what’s written! I’ll gladly do so in another ask but for now just accept it. And if you think that being a jade blood is not mom enough, don’t worry, I got ya, he’s also a prospit dreamer Sylph of Blood. Sylphs are the passive creation class, creating the aspect / creating through the ascpec for others, they’re curious and can get intrusive when they get worried too much, they wanna know what’s wrong and they wanna help so bad, even when their help isn’t wanted, they’re gentle and the bringers of care for their groups, and holy this isn’t enough already? No, cause he’s our fucking blood player, the aspect of union and relationships, pretty much natural leaders that bring people together by becoming friends with every single person in the group and then forming the group. Y’all think he’s mom enough?

Ohm: I completely didn’t choose Ohm to be a teal blood because he gave me Terezi vibes just like Smiity shut up. He does a good teal! They’re social and can be really flirtatious even accidentaly, they got strong morals that may get them to commit mistakes and let them down easly, they trust people way too quikly, they’re often better alone but with the right companion they can do so much!! Plus, he’s a prospit dreamer Heir of Space! We already talked about space bounds so just let me tell you, the most known point in a heir is their innocence in a determined subject, It’s a thing that I personally can’t really explain tho, they’re the passive changing class, so they’re easily adaptable and open, they care a lot about what their impact may be in others so they may hide facts about themselves, they not only change themselves for others but they incentive others to change for better, they’re caring, friendly and understanding, in the worst case they can be way too easly manipulated.

Mini: Our ladd here is a blue blood! The blood color that’s described to be capable of causing the most good but also the worst harm. They’re nice to have around as friends, and can easly become one, they’re adaptable and people magnets, they vallue their friends, wich also means they can be hard to forget a fight and get easly moody towards people they once considered close. And he’s also a derse dreamer Bard Of Light! As a bard he’s the passive destruction class, they’re devoted and faithful, they can be easly offended by criticism towards what they think is right, possibly getting open minded if the critic is someone they’re devoted at, a close friend or partner, they’re helpful, willing and friendly, but can also be inflexible in cases. As a light player Mini can be described as willing to learn more about what’s interesting him at the moment, he’s a seeker and he sees rules as suggestions to what he should do. He’s also one that I chose last so if you have a suggention I’m open!

Scotty: The boy is our indigo blood! Friendly, cheerful, energetic and curious! He can be easly attracted to anything that gets his interest and that also means he loses said interest easly, he is stronger than he thinks he is and can be careless about himself and others around him, he’s one that need to have an eye on to make sure he’s fine, and of course the person need to be prepared for so much energy! As another one that I couldn’t easily decide and became one of the last ones I chose, he’s an prospit dreamer Maid of Mind. The active creation class is kind of a favourite of mine, but kind of hard for me to explain as well, what I can tell you about them is that they are born to a fate they don’t like, and once they envolve in the game they decide to do their own fate by expressing themselves on their creations or something, I’m not really sure but I love this class!! And being mind bounded means our fuckboy tries to be rational most of the time, often that means he overthinks a lot, he sees most if not all possibilities of a decision and he’ll think over them, he’s mostly a person that’s slow to act, but when he does he knows what he’s doing, so just do how he says!

Delirious: I’ll get people getting mad at me that I didn’t put him as either teal, blue or indigo blood, but for real can you really judge me to choose him to be a purple blood when they have the clown make up and creepy as hell aethetic? And plus, the fact their description says they’re hard to trust on others, they can be mysterious and are great at keeping secrets. They’re decided and hard to change minds, they often want to refuse to be helped even when they need, but after all, when they trust someone they become devoted, putting way too much trust on them. I mean, yeah?? And he’s also our prospit dreamer Page of Void. The active serving class is another one of my favourits, being the people full of potential, they compare themselves to other and then create an ideal of who they want to be in their mind, some persona they want to become with characterists they don’t see themselves having, their nature on believing they can be what they build on their minds show their innocence and kindness, they sometimes can shut themselves inside their personas and act like how they want to be and less how they are, at best, they’re caring, charming and big dreamers, while at worst they can be manipulative and selfish by forcing their persona on others. And with all that, Del is also void bounded, meaning he’s a great secret keeper! He’s attracted to mystery and the unknown is his best friend, while others want to find out what they don’t know, Del is convicted on doubting what’s said to be the truth, he can be easly described as intuitive!

I’m not really sure but I believe our violet blood will be Lui by being a Witch of Hope prospit player, I’m not gonna talk so much about why because I’m getting out of time sorry----

Last boy will be Kryoz as our fuchsia heir, derse dreamer and Mage of Heart, he’s one that I thought first in the au and I’d love to explain more, but once again I’m going out of time, you can ask me about him separetely if you want to!!

Sorry for just yeeting myself out of explaining in these last two, I have been writing this explanation for two days now and I had to start again like twice because I was running out of time, I’m also sorry if there are any grammar mistakes I hadn’t had the time to revise it efhdgdgfed

#my au #bbs #hs au #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #thanks for the ask fehdgfdhds <3

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monotonemanday · 6 years

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Mysme Royal AU - Saeyoung The Royal Scribe

I have decided to continue my royal AU! So here is the next part! Where Knight MC meets Saeyoung, the scribe for the royal court! I hope you enjoy!

Something Wicked (Awesome) This Way Comes

As MC stood in front of the massive gate her feet still unwilling to move, she noticed it was oddly quiet. Only moments ago it seemed like peasants and nobles alike were pushing their way past one another outside of the castles walls. Going about their day's as planned. She looked to her right and as soon as she did she heard a sharp voice.

"Ya know..."

MC snapped her eyesight to the left. Standing next to her, looking directly forward, was a seemingly common man, with blazing red hair and honey eyes. The sun hitting them, the trajectory of the light making them shine gold. He was not looking at MC and he had not finished his sentence. MC stared at him with wide eyes. Wondering if he was going to continue. The silence making her uncomfortable. She furrowed her brows and inhaled, ready to break the silence. But as if he was baiting her to try and say something, before she could get the words out, the man cut her off.

"I found that just staring at things doesn't cause them to do what you want. Allow me to assist you, fair maiden!" The red haired man walked up to the gate. When he gave it a few gentle raps with his knuckles, the gate began to part open. "You see. Just gotta know the right knock to get in." He winked and walked back beside of MC.

"Thanks but...I wasn't exactly trying to get inside." MC mumbled to herself, clenching her hands into fists and looking down at the dirt beneath her, but her voice carries more than she is aware of.

"Oh, were you not? Are you waiting on a formal invitation? No that can't be right. You already got one!"

When she looked to her side the man was gone again. She found him perched. Sitting on one of the nearby posts by the gate. A very high post. She was impressed he made it up to sit. She arched an eyebrow at him quizzically.

"You know who I am?"

"Why of course! You're the new sheriff in town! I was just on my way inside and as a member of the royal court, seeing you, it is my duty to greet you! Make you feel at home!" The lively man jumped down and stood beside her once more. He picked up the roughed up sack and satchel MC had brought with her and threw them over his shoulder. "So onward we go my lord!" With his free arm he pointed forward in a charging motion and began to hastily walk through the gate doors.

MC chuckled to herself and found that her legs that earlier felt like they were cemented to the ground, now were as light as feathers and she took the first step forward since she had arrived at C&R Kingdom. She quickened her pace to catch up with her new acquaintance.

"So you know me, but who exactly are you? You seem very informal for a member of the royal court."

The man stopped and turned toward her with a deadpan look. Then a single tear fell from the corner of his eye. MC stood in horror trying to think of what she had done to trigger such emotion.

"Thank you! That is one of the nicest things anyone could say to me!" His honey eyes sparkling from the moisture of his fake tears, closed tight as he let out a hardy laugh and began to walk forward once more. "The name is Saeyoung! And I am the royal scribe!" He stopped and waited for MC to step beside him and then he leaned in close to her ear. "I am also the self appointed caretaker of the Prince's royal feline, but that's between you and I." Saeyoung winked at MC and they continued on their walk down the paved path to the castles main doors.

MC was walking with her hands clasped behind her back and her posture straight as a board. She was not carrying anything since the scribe so graciously scooped up her things. She knew that she was within the castle walls now however, and she needed to present herself in a certain manner. She came to be the head of an army. A "Lord" to the Prince. She had not yet met Prince Jumin but she couldn't let herself falter in the eyes of anyone who was already known to him. The people within these walls were potentially her men, the people she was to lead. And even those that were not hers to command, she felt needed to see her and take her seriously in her new position. Aside from that, intimidation. The Prince and the royal court may have invited her to the kingdom of C&R but that didn't meant it's people would be so gracious as well. She walked tall and proud but her inner Knight had rusted armor.

"And those are the only titles you hold?" MC side eyed her companion, looking for a specific answer.

"Well, some people call me Seven! As for titles though, I hold no more. Is something bothering you oh brave knight?"

"Bothering me? No. It does not bother me. But you did not mention to me that you can do magic."

Saeyoung did not stop walking but MC noticed that his shoulders tensed. He was only about a foot in front of her. He looked back and she saw the corner of his lips upturn slightly.

"Is that so? I wasn't planning on bringing it up so that is probably why, well...probably why I didn't!" He laughed but MC did not find it as entertaining as him.

"Well yes, after all, you are a mage." MC stopped walking, signalling that she was starting a heavier conversation between the two. "So you are like me. Hiding somewhere that accepts your differences because the rest of the lands fear what you do."

Saeyound let out a loud gasp and held his hands over his heart. "Oh Revolutionary Knight! Such filthy words you speak! The M word is forbidden across this land and many many others!"

She raised her brow at the man once more. Not playing along with his games. "But you are. That gate has to be manually operated but there was no one stationed at that point. You were perched on that post that was far to high and difficult to climb, and you are carrying those bags with such ease because you aren't really carrying them. They are hovering."

"Looks like you caught me oh wise and ruthless knight!" Saeyoung placed his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers and using them as a pillow. He leaned back. Far enough to where he could lift his legs off the ground. He was levitating now, swinging side to side as if he were in an invisible hammock. "I have magic hands. It's true. And if you come to my chambers later I could even show you my crystal ball." He raised his eyebrows a time or two at MC.

"I'll pass." MC hoisted herself up to sit on the half wall that was bordering the paved path they were walking. Saeyoung brought his feet back down to meet the the path and leaned against the wall. Putting his weight on his elbows. "You use magic so openly?"

"Within these walls, absolutely! These are my people! They love The Great Wizard Saeyoung!" He stood up and began to move his hands around gracefully, like he was summoning spells over a cauldron.

MC merely rolled her eyes. "I doubt that anyone calls you that."

Saeyoung floated himself to sit next to MC on top of the wall and he let out a soft sigh. "Listen, MC. You've heard of The Knights of the Round Table?" MC only nodded her head in response. "The great knight, Arthur Pendragon, who wields the legendary sword Excalibur. King Arthur who fights with his companion the great wizard, Merlin! That. That is you and I. Our destiny. What we are about to become. This Kingdom faces a great danger. The Empress of Magenta and her Mint army. They will come soon. And when that time comes, you and I will stop her! Together. The Valiant Knight and Extraordinary Wizard! THE FAMOUS DUO! MC AND SEVEN! SEVEN AND MC! WITH THEIR STEEL AND MAGIC! HEROES OF C&R!" He flung his arms towards the sky but gave himself a little too much momentum. The enthusiastic story teller lost balance and tumbled backwards. The path they were walking and the wall they were perched on were not high, but the drop behind them was pretty significant.

"Saeyoung!" MC shouted after him, hopping off of the wall and grabbing his wrist.

"Nice catch, MC! But there was really no need to get so worked up. I mean...you know...legendary wizard and all." He smirked and MC pulled him up over the ledge. Instead of sitting back on the wall they settled for leaning against it.

"Sure, all of that sounds exciting Saeyoung but Arthur and Merlin? They are just legends, myths."

"So were you, MC. The Revolutionary Knight. But here you are, right in front of me. Coming to help our lowly little kingdom."

A million thoughts began to rush through MC's head and she leaned in silence. The energetic red haired man she had met only minutes ago was trying to convince her of this tale about a disgraced maiden on the run, turned hero. She didn't want to be a house wife, a simple maiden or the princess to some kingdom she didn't care for just because of a sham marriage. So she became a fighter and a rogue, knowing it was not how things are supposed to work. Once that facade came crashing down she was an outlaw. And now she is back in someone's kingdom, under someones rule but she is an authority. All of these thoughts where overwhelming but she knew as the "Revolutionary Knight" she didn't have time to dwell. She was to push forward.

"Well," She pushed herself off of the wall and collected her sack and satchel from the ground. "If we are going to become legendary heroes to be remembered...It's a good thing you're handsome."

Caught off guard by the comment, Saeyoungs cheeks flushed. Then he rushed after MC who had made it quite away's ahead of him.

"So are you rethinking your answer to meeting me in my chambers later?" The magician teased.

"Absolutely not."

Saeyoung huffed at MC's blatant response. They walked in a comfortable silence for a moment until the atrocious roar of MC's intestines burst forth.

"Aha! Our hero is hungry! It just so happens I know where to find the best chef in the kingdom!" Saeyoung grabbed MC's forearm and jerked her into a new direction. "This way! Off to see the kingdoms royal chef! Who not only is the best chef, but he is also the cutest." Saeyoung laughed to himself as he drug MC off to a separate place other than the main entrance to the castle. There was still a bit of time before she had to meet with Prince Jumin.

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chaotic-whywolf · 7 years

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Andromeda

I know my main character’s name is Andromeda - THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MASS EFFECT I’M SORRY. It was a Intro to Fiction writing assignment and I’m really proud of it. This is a fairy tale I wrote myself.

Once upon a time, long long ago, there lived a knight and his page. The knight was gallant, heroic, and very handsome, or so he thought of himself. The reality of the man was a bit lacking. The page was a scrappy little girl of no particular heroics and a habit for collecting useless junk, or so the knight thought. The reality of the girl was quite a bit beyond the knight’s understanding. The knight was Sir Perth, and the girl was Andromeda. Together they completed many quests and in time the knight was a hero of many kingdoms, but not Andromeda. She was often overlooked and forgotten.

Who was she really? Just a scrappy nobody commoner following after the hero knight chasing, his glory. That was what the others thought of her, at least when they noticed her at all.

Andromeda was a quiet girl, who obeyed her master, even though he never noticed her accomplishments over his own. She did everything for him; she cooked for him, set up the man’s tent and banner whenever they made camp, cleaned his armor and sharpened his sword, did his laundry, and even cared for his horse, the only one so far to appreciate the girl’s efforts.

Because of the amount of work expected of her by her ungrateful master, Andromeda had little time for herself. But when she did, she liked to walk alone somewhere for a while. While on a walk she would find various things that interested her and pocket them. It was never stealing, because they were things found in nature, owned only by the wider world and God Himself. And these things that interested young Andromeda were rarely things other people cared to own. Flower petals, yellowed leaves, oddly bent branches, colorful stones; these were Andromeda’s treasures.

Once when walking through a trade town while her mentor was out shopping, Andromeda found a tomato in the gutter somewhere, forgotten and left behind by a food vendor. Andromeda picked it up, intrigued by its perfect red color.

“This must be the reddest of all reds,” she concluded, studying her find. She later showed it to her mentor, who took it from her hand and promptly threw it at a street entertainer who’s routine offended him. The knight gave a bawdy laugh at the sight of the tomato’s reddest juices oozing all over the unfortunate street performer’s face. Later he only said “Next time, find a more rotten tomato. Tossing them is funnier that way.”

A few days after that incident they were in service of a duke with a crying duchess. The two men plotted together that the only away to get the duchess to stop crying was to give her a gift that would fill her heart with joy.

Andromeda went to the gardens of the duke’s castle and found there a rose of the most innocent pink, and a rock of a most unusual shape – perfectly round like a ball. When she presented her gifts to the knight, the duke, and the duchess, the knight scoffed at the unappealing stone but swiped the rose from her hands to present to the duchess himself. The duchess was pleased with the gift.

Andromeda dropped her stone ball then, and it rolled to the foot of the duchess’ throne before splitting into two to reveal a stunning agate. At the sight of such a beautiful gemstones inside she burst into tears of joy. The duke was so thankful to the knight that he commissioned a new sword and shield to be made of the finest materials, and hosted a feast in his honor.

Andromeda was forgotten in all the festivities.

The feast lasted a full three days. On the first day Andromeda took a walk in the gardens at high noon, when the sun was shining in full glory. She found a forgotten candle, and brought it inside. When lit, she exclaimed that it had the brightest flame of any candle she had ever seen. She named it Sun’s Torch and kept it as one of her treasures.

On the second day the knight had Andromeda working so hard and so long she could not find time to herself until late that night, when the moon was full and shining but shadowy clouds started blocking away the stars. Andromeda spied a great stone fountain with sculpted dolphins spurting water everywhere. There was something shiny in the fountain, reflecting the light of the full moon. Andromeda waded in the fountain and plucked the curious object out of the cool waters. It was a dagger, a bit rusted about the blade but still looked serviceable. Andromeda named it Moonblade and added it to her sack of treasures.

On the third day the sky was overcast with clouds, a dark angry blue poking out from between darker angrier storm clouds. Andromeda was walking along the garden’s path, head down hoping to find another agate to take with her when she and Sir Perth both inevitably left the duke’s hospitality. She found no perfectly round balls this time, but did find something far more intriguing. It looked to her to be a piece of the sky had fallen to earth before her. On the ground was a piece of blue with part of a cloud showing. She hesitantly picked it up, the sky disappeared, replaced by a reflection of her eye. It was a piece from a broken mirror. Andromeda angled the mirror so it reflected the sky once more and decided to keep it as a treasure.

That evening, during the third and final day of feasting, Sir Perth and Andromeda were approached by a mysterious stranger. He was an old man hidden behind dark robes, when he removed his hood Andromeda could see that his eyes were clouded over with blindness.

The man spoke to them of a dungeon nearby this castle, wherein lies a gauntlet of traps and monsters which guarded a secret treasure trove of some long lost king. The old man claimed he was no fit to hazard the gauntlet himself, so he offered to lead them there and offer up a portion of the treasure in exchange for their protection. The knight, drunk on praise and wine, instantly agreed to the new quest. Andromeda was weary.

“How do you know the way to the dungeon if you can’t see?” she asked the blind man.

“My eyes may be blind but I can still see in other ways,” said the blind man.

“I do not understand you sir,” Andromeda said.

“Old wise men are rarely understood, but we are seen,” said the blind man cryptically, “Whereas little girls like yourself are said to be seen and not heard. Yet I can see that with you that is not the case. You are neither seen nor heard.”

Andromeda did not understand what the old man was trying to tell her.

“Do you mean to say you are deaf as well as blind, old man?” Andromeda asked. The blind man just smiled. Andromeda reasoned that since he did answer her first question, he must be able to hear at least some of the time. Selective deafness was amongst the most trying of all adult conditions, she had found.

In the morning the old man lead Sir Perth and Andromeda into an old growth forest to the ruins of some long forgotten castle. In the lowest part of the ruins they found a door, painted a stunning reddish brownish white. It looked to Andromeda to be the color of the sun made paint.

“Hark,” the blind man said, “There lies the door to the gauntlet. Be wary, for the gauntlet is made to test the cleverness and resourcefulness of the would-be hero. If we fail, the dungeon shall kill us.”

“I am no coward!” Sir Perth exclaimed in response to the blind man’s warning, “And I am no fool. Let this dungeon test me. It shall see I am worthy of its treasure. Girl, open the door.”

Andromeda dutifully opened the door as her mentor unsheathed his brand new sword and charged recklessly forth. She and the blind man followed more slowly. They were swallowed by darkness as the door closed behind them.

“Ow!” came Sir Perth voice.

“What is it?” Andromeda cried out to her mentor.

“I ran into a wall!” he cried, “Why what trickery is this? The front entrance itself is a dead end!”

“Not a dead end,” said the blind man, “You just passed the passage we need to take. The first challenge of the gauntlet be the Labyrinth of Infinite Darkness. We must navigate the maze to move on to the next challenge.”

“How do you expect me to solve a maze when I cannot see past my own nose? Why, I cannot see my nose at all!”

“Sadly, good sir, the only way to banish the darkness is with the light of the sun itself,” was the blind man’s answer.

It was then that Andromeda had an idea. She took from her pack Sun’s Torch and a match to light it. Once the candle was lit, the darkness receded, just as the blind man had said. She could now see the mysterious old man next to her, as well as her mentor Sir Perth before her.

“Excellent!” Sir Perth said, grabbing the candle out of Andromeda’s hands, “I always remember to bring a spare torch. And here be the passage to the next part of the maze. Oh good for – what? Another dead end?”

Even with the light of Sun’s Torch, it took them the greater part of three hours to navigate the never-ending twists and turns and dead ends of the maze. By the time they found a second door the candle was nearly gone from melted wax.

This second door was the color of the most perfect silver, near reflective in its qualities. Andromeda was reminded of the night of the full moon when she found her little dagger, Moonblade. She took the dagger from her sack now, feeling she might somehow need it.

Sir Perth opened the door and all three companions cautiously entered under the last light of the dyeing Sun’s Torch. Beyond it was a long hall, the pathway through which was flanked by twelve rows of armor stands, each a complete knight’s set, with even weapons clutched in their gauntleted hands. At the end of the hall there was a final knight on a pedestal, its armor made of black and silver metal. It wielded a ball and chain mace. Behind it was a third door.

“Well this seems easy enough,” said Sur Perth cheerfully as he stepped forward.

“Too easy,” cautioned Andromeda, clutching Moonblade to her chest as she followed her mentor.

“Be weary,” warned the blind man, following last, “These armor statues might not have eyes, but they can see into our hearts. They will judge us, seeking injustice and cowardice. Only righteous bravery can strike them down.”

“I am no coward!” Sir Perth whined. He nearly said something else when they heard a loud creaking sound from ahead. The armor stand at the end of the hall was moving!

The apparently enchanted armor stepped off its pedestal to stand before the baffled knight, a ball and chain weapon raised in its gauntleted hands. Sir Perth raised his sword to the other knight and attempted to swing at it. The blade clanged harmlessly against the breastplate of the opposing knight. Its free hand grasped Perth sword and yanked it forcefully out of his hands before throwing it across the hallway to impale deeply in the stone wall behind them.

Unarmed, Sir Perth could only cower behind his shield as his opponent raised its mace. The knight’s shield, although shiny and made of precious metals, was never built to withstand battle. The enchanted armor’s mace bashed through the knight’s shield as though it were made of nothing more than aluminum foil, leaving a deep mace-shaped dent in the now useless shield.

The other knight raised his mace for a killing blow when Andromeda acted. She ran in front of her mentor, Moonblade in hand, and stabbed at the other knight. Unlike the gilded longsword, the old steel dagger pierced through the breastplate, right where the heart would be if the armor were filled with a person instead of magic.

The armor screamed so loud it made their ears ring, as the magic inside it flashed blinding blue light. Andromeda and Sir Perth both shielded their eyes from the light. The armor’s screams ceased as the magic holding it together escaped from the wound caused by the dagger.

“I don’t believe it,” said Sir Perth, when both he and Andromeda could see and hear normally again.

“Me too,” Andromeda said, “It looks like my little Moonblade was sharper than we first imag-“

“My strike must have been delayed somehow. Perhaps the magic in the armor?” the knight interrupted her.

“What?” Andromeda stammered, “Did-didn’t you see the cut I made? With my Moonblade? I thought –“

“Your little dagger must have opened up my wound in the armor’s chest, and for that we are lucky. Now come Girl, Blind Man. We have treasure to find!” The knight charged ahead towards the final door. The blind man followed silently behind him, leaving Andromeda standing baffled in the scattered pieces of the once enchanted armor. Now Andromeda couldn’t believe it. Even after saving his life the knight still refused to notice her involvement.

She sighed in defeat before running after her mentor and their quest giver. She caught up just as the knight was reaching for the final door, painted a threatening dark gray, like storm clouds right before they spilled rain.

The knight opened the door. On the other side was a sight that took their breath away. It was the mother of all treasure rooms. There were mountains made of gold and rolling hills made of silver. There were dozens of large oaken chests, lids thrown open and overstuffed with a rainbow of sparkling gemstones. There were pearly white statues of unicorns and dragons perched between the mountains, and marble busts of kings and queens perched on bejeweled pillars. In all their lives, the companions had never seen so much wealth before.

“Be weary, brave knight, for this treasure is guarded by a most fearsome beast,” the blind man announced. He pointed his finger to one of the nearby gold mountains. “Hark, there! Shifting of the coins. The guardian comes for us.”

CURROW, CURROW!

There was a dreadful crowing coming from behind the gold, so loud and frightening it hurt the companion’s ears.

“Be weary friends! This beast is a basilisk! Do not look at it or you will perish!” the blind man called out over the monster’s crows.

The knight put two hands over his eyes immediately, whimpering and shaking in fear in his own armor. Andromeda turned her body away from the beast’s direction. The old man did nothing to shield his eyes from the oncoming basilisk. This creature’s weapon was its poisonous sight, yet the old man’s blind eyes were immune to its gaze.

Andromeda was thinking frantically how to get out of this situation. She could try to slay the basilisk with her Moonblade, but with her sight impaired how could she hope to land a killing blow. She’d simply stumble around just as clumsily as Sir Perth with her hand over her eyes, swinging the dagger wildly around, and the basilisk would easily cut her down with tooth and claw. She had to find a way to see the basilisk without it killing her.

She reached into her bag and brought out her piece of the sky – the broken mirror shard. No longer reflecting the clouds above it showed instead the gold and gems behind her shoulder. Andromeda wondered, since she would never survive the basilisk’s naked gaze, would the reflected gaze of the creature be rendered harmless? She would have to risk it.

Angling the mirror to the best view of the treasure room, she saw the basilisk come out of hiding. It was an uncommonly ugly beast. The basilisk’s body was long and serpentine, covered with scales of a most unfortunately ugly shade of green and yellow. It had 2 clawed chicken’s feet and two bat-shaped wings flaring behind its back. Worst, the basilisk’s head was shaped like that of a particularly large and angry green rooster.

The basilisk’s eyes never saw Andromeda. Instead they found its own eyes reflected back at it in the broken mirror. For the first time it saw itself; the scaly serpentine tail, the bat-like wings and the rooster’s head, the glowing crimson irises filled with hate. Then it saw nothing.

The basilisk’s squawk cut short. After a moment of silence Andromeda looked up from behind her hand to find the beast’s lower half was now stone. She risked looking further up, and found its shoulders and wings were stone too. As was the creature’s head. Andromeda couldn’t read the faces of animals very well, but she could swear the monster’s face was petrified in an expression of fear.

She found Sir Perth quivering behind a pillar. When he realized the basilisk was no more he straightened and regained his composure.

“Excellent!” the knight exclaimed, “Now that the monster is dead I shall claim its treasure! Come Girl, empty the sack of that garbage so it may be filled with gold and jewels.”

Andromeda frowned at her mentor. She didn’t want to give up her treasures. But she unshouldered her pack and removed Moonblade and laid it down on the ground beside her piece of the sky. The knight gleefully took the bag from her and began filling it with handfuls of shining coins.

Andromeda wandered around the treasure room. She found something to interest her, an old piece of folded cloth wedged beneath one of the chests. She pulled it free to find it was an ancient map, brown with age. It showed the location of a new dungeon, with its own riches, a new quest.

She was about to show the map to Sir Perth when she hesitated.

“I see you are finally rethinking your partnership,” said the old man suddenly.

“I cannot leave Sir Perth,” Andromeda insisted, “He could never live without me.”

“I can see that. He is far more dependent on you than you are of him. But are you willing to live your entire life in the shadow of a fool and a coward?” the old man questioned.

“I – no I don’t. I don’t want to be never seen and never heard anymore, and I don’t want to be seen and not heard. I want to be both seen and heard!” Andromeda came to a realization, finally understanding what the old man had been saying to her all along.

“I want to be an adventurer by myself someday,” she continued, “To have my own quests. I want to find my own treasures and keep them for myself. I do not want to be ignored anymore, and I do not want my treasures to be called garbage ever again.” Andromeda said it all with a certainty she didn’t know she had.

“Then do those things. Use that map, and whatever treasures you find in your travels. Leave Sir Perth here, he has claimed enough treasure here he can happily retire to some fare off castle with a princess bride. He has achieved his dream, and will have no further use for you. Go live your own dreams for yourself.” the old man beckoned.

Andromeda nodded and ran back to where she left Moonblade and her piece of the sky, wrapped them up in her map and left out the back door without ever taking a coin. The door was a bright clean white, the color of hope.

The End

#I was always jealous princesses got such cool and unique names #so i gave my character one like that #i named her after another galaxy #jk i named her after a fucking video game!#not mass effect #writing #my writing #not even fanfiction #original writing #i actually posted something myself!#fairy tale #andromeda #I'm really proud of it #school assignments

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thoseoverwatchimagines · 7 years

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[SFW] Reader is a Mermaid and McCree/Hanzo/Rein doesn’t know

Reinhardt Wilhem

Reinhardt puffed up with pride as the waitress escorted you to his table. You were without a doubt the most beautiful woman in the room. Men stole furtive glances as you walked by. Women watched you with unbridled envy. But the only person who mattered was standing chivalrously next to your pulled out chair. "Ah mein liebchen! You are stunning! Tonight I am truly the luckiest man alive." Rein bowed and place a quick peck on the back of each hand. The man was an expert on all niceties. You let a rosy blush color those radiant cheekbones. "You flatter me Reinhardt. After a year are you still so enamored? I would have thought you'd grown tired of seeing me!"

"Never! Without you I am half the man I could ever be." He poured you a glass of wine and flagged a waiter to take your orders. Seeing him so jovial, a pang of guilt knotted itself in your stomach. Once the food was settled and you two had a moment, you spoke, "Reinhardt my love. I have something I need to tell you. After dinner, might we talk a walk along the river?" He furrowed his brow, if only for an instant, before smiling at you once more. "Anything you want. Tonight is your night." You corrected him, "Our night leibe, our night."

As promised, the two of you walked arm in arm down the boardwalk looking rather fance in a green satin dress and tuxedo respectively. "Tell me my dear, what was on your mind?" You smiled fondly. He always did cut to the chase. "Well... It is difficult to say..." Sensing your apprehension only made him hold you tighter. "Do you remember reading Peter Pan as a boy?" He nodded. "And I know you love those stories of knights and dragons and all kinds of mythical creatures..." He nodded again, this time a confused look creeping into his features. "Mein leibchen, what does this have to do with anything?"

The two of you had come to a secluded bench surrounded by trees and high walls. You guided him to sit and took your place next to him. There was a slight chill in the air and the leaves began to turn. Rain, as forcasted, was on its way. "What if I told you that you could live out those stories in real life? You could be the hero with his magical temptress? You could be Peter with his mermaids?" Reinhardt burst out laughing in that loud, belly busting way he favored. "Oh that is a good one dear. And how exactly am I going to do that? Is Overwatch not enough for you?" A few drops of rain landed on your cheek.

"Reinhardt I'm being serious. I need you to hear me, to understand. I... I am not a regular woman..." The rain began to fall in earnest. Your clothes were quickly soaked through. It wouldn't be long now. "I am a mermaid, Reinhardt. And I want you to be my one and only love." Reinhardt seemed genuinely concerned, "Are you feeling alright leibchen? It's not like you to talk such nonsense. You used to chastize me for my foolish dreams. What are you playing at?" Under the starlight, hidden by your long dress, legs were melting together to form a glorious opalescent tail. In a few moments he would see.

"Promise me you'll always love me, mo matter what. Promise me, Reinhardt." There was fear in your voice. Your doting lover would have none of that. He took your hands in his and looked you right in those beautiful green eyes. "I will love you now and forever more. This I promise you." And then he sealed his promise with true love's kiss. It took everything you had and more to pull away but the time had come. Trembling hands pulled up your skirts to reveal what you'd hidden for so long. A silvery tail that shone like moonlight on the sea. Reinhardt's eyes widened. He couldn't believe his eyes! You watched him carefully for any sign of acceptance. But of course, he wasted no time.

"You're a mermaid! It's true!" A childlike joy overwhelmed his senses. "Ever since I was a boy I wanted nothing more than to be a valiant knight from a fairytale. And here you are, a gift from God, to make my dreams come true! Oh mein leibchen, fear not. I will stand by you from now until the end of time."

Jesse McCree

"I don't want this day to end!" You and that ruggedly handsome cowboy found yourselves nestled in a hammock, watching the sun rush towards the earth despite all your best wishes. Tomorrow Jesse had to leave with his Deadlock brothers. This was just a short vacation while runners gathered drugs and weapons from every corner of Mexico. "Neither do I darlin' but time stops for no man. Why don't we make the most of what's left?" Callused hands roamed over your bare stomach, making their way below the belt while he covered you in rough kisses. As much as you'd have liked to make passionate love under the stars, night marched ever closer and with it, your darkest secret.

For just over a month you'd courted this foolhardy man and he'd never even questioned your early curfew. Perhaps it was that old fashioned southern respect. Or maybe he didn't care as long has needs were met. Either way, tonight was the night all would be revealed.

"Let's go swimming in the Rio Grande. I know the perfect spot. Nobody will see us. We can even go skinny dipping." You flashed him that mischevious smile he'd grown to love. He wrinkled his nose and pouted, "Mmm, I liked my idea better but whatever makes you happy." You pulled him off the hammock with surprising strength. "You'll get over it. Besides, I thought you loved the thrill of adventure?" Unfortunately McCree didn't exactly see adventure in a few laps across the river. Still he followed diligently, eager for any chance to grope that wonderful body of yours.

The last rays of sunshine were wasting away by the time you'd torn off your clothes and dove into the warm waters. Jesse took his time to hang that precious hat on a tree branch and threw his clothes in a messy pile. "What do you say we play a little Marco Polo?" It wasn't a bad suggestion. As he waded into the water you swam a ways off. His arms were reaching out trying to grab you unawares. A little splashing, a little giggling, a little underwater fondling. All the while your nightly transformation had begun.

The worst of it was the legs. You skin knit itself together mid-kick causing you to cry out in pain. McCree's eyes snapped open, "You okay darlin'? Must have stepped on a rock." But your eyes were pressed shut. He swam over and pulled you close, not realizing the changes happening just below the surface. Scales were pushing their way through your flesh like a million little razors. Your neck, concealed by long locks of hair, split open to form gills. Concerned for your wellbeing, he placed his hands on either side of your head and tried to meet your gaze. "Tell me what to do. Do you need a doctor?" You looked up with a grimace revealing glowing blue eyes. He startled and took a step back. "What the heck?!"

You reached out without hesitation but your arms had formed webbed fins along the side. He pushed you away and stumbled back towards the shore. "McCree wait, please! I wanted to tell you!" That powerful tail, now fully formed, propelled you towards your lover. He scuttled on hands and elbows until he was sitting in the surf. You pulled yourself as close to shore as you dared. Bioluminescent spots dotted your collarbone, shoulders, and cheeks. Your eyes pulsed with energy. "I just couldn't find the words..."

Jesse rubbed his eyes, hoping to wake up from some strange fever dream. And yet there you were, in all your beauty. He struggled to comprehend what lay before him. And, as was custom with anything emotionally taxing on the cowboy, he shut down and tried to run away. "Listen hun, I've had a good run with ya. But this... This is too much... What were you expecting to happen? I just up and quit the gang to live out some fairytale on the Rio Grande? Well that just ain't fair! You don't just put this on a fella. Certainly not a guy like me..." You looked up at him full of hurt and despair. He was right though. Part of you was praying for a miracle, that maybe he'd see the light and start over with you. That you'd be enough. That you were worth it. But you weren't. You were just another bump in the road for a troubled boy pretending to be a man.

Hanzo Shimada

A salty ocean wind blew over the boat carrying Hanzo and the old fisherman. Century old wood creaked and groaned. The few women willing to sail the small ship worked in fearful silence. No one dared speak lest the beast be summoned forth. On the coast of Kyoto a village of fisherman's wives had pooled their earnings to hire the tattooed mercenary. Their husbands and sons, one by one, had gone missing. Hanzo was skeptical of their claims but having been paid up front was forced to make an appearance. He'd listened to desolate daughters cry about fathers waking up from the deepest slumber and walking out into the rolling sea. He'd consoled the mothers weeping over sons possessed by some haunting melody. These people blessed him with salt and sand and begged him to bring their loved ones home.

They sailed for a strip of land off the coast. The women whispered of ghostly lights floating over the island and an unholy fog settling on the shore. As the sandbar took shape, Hanzo ordered the crew to stop short and lower him in a rowboat. The ship was to turn back and leave him be. This hunt was his and his alone.

That bitter wind roared and brought with it a dense fog. By the light of a rusted lantern, he made landfall. Hanzo stalked the beach with an arrow notched and eyes scouring the horizon. A soft glow emanated from dense verdant foliage. It seemed to shift and bend with the billowing of the leaves. For now he walked the shoreline. Up ahead a ways the ocean pushed into the earth and created a dark pool. The water bubbled ominously and Hanzo pulled back the string on his bow. He peered down and saw nothing but shadow. Fog swirled on the surface, obscuring the depths. Hanzo let fly an arrow into the murky waters; a wretched screech shattered the stillness of the night.

The archer readied his bow once more but tentacles had shot up from the water, slithering around his ankles, dragging him down. Another slimy appendage wrapped around his waste. More still latched onto the rocks around the pool. Whatever beast was killing these men had chosen Hanzo as its next victim. But he was no ordinary man! And this monster had made a fatal mistake. Hanzo fired into the water, shouting his family's mystic words, "Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!"

Brilliant blue dragons dove into the waters with righteous purpose. Smoke and screams sprung up with fury. The tentacles fell off leaving behind angry red marks. Just as Hanzo breathed a sigh of relief, a sickly green hand clawed into the sand. But this horrifying turn of events wasn't what sent a chill down the man's spine. No. The all too familiar charm bracelet cutting into curdled flesh brought Hanzo to his knees.

"My love... It cannot be... How? What are you?!" Dragging yourself dying onto the beach, you looked up into his eyes, searching for forgivness under all that hurt. Blood poured from your mouth when you choked out your apologies, "Dearest one. I tried to protect you... To hide this curse..." He recoiled from your touch. "Please... I am not long for this world..." Some fragile part of him crumbled under this burden. Tears welled up and burned their way down stubborn cheeks. "You killed all those men, those boys! How could you do such a thing? How could you hide this evil part of you for so long? Did our time together mean nothing?" A lovelorn smile cracked your poisonous lips. "All these questions dearest. You'll die before you have the answers. Please understand... I was never meant to fall in love. Death and destruction are my lot. But next to you? I am nothing but a weak, foolish creature." You gasped and coughed up blackened fluid. "Our time was a stolen gift. And so to repay the favor, this I give this to you. Freedom. Notch one more arrow my love, let your aim be true. Show me mercy and you will not mourn for you will not remember."

Hanzo's face contorted into a look pained horror. Using what little magic you had left you helped him. He reached for his quiver, not understanding why. Some mythic force guided his hands. The final decision, however, was his alone. "Hanzo my beloved. If you ever cared for me, you'll end it now. Don't let me die knowing how much pain I've caused. Release me so that I can set you free."

On a forsaken spit of land, in the middle of a churning sea, with nobody to witness his shame, Hanzo closed his eyes and wept.

That bloodthirsty arrow found its mark.

And then silence...

#overwatch imagines #overwatch prompts #mccree #hanzo shimada #reinhardt

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Oxen of the Sun

Ay, but kill'd none so hard as with the first. He drank drugs to obliterate. What is the same time, though they had received eternity gods mortals generation to befit them her beholding, when they have of motherhood and he wondered to look upon, the eccentric, while for such that his languor becalmed him there awhile. Your guest, then he lived withal? We are tougher, brother Richard, comes. What's on you? Bonsoir la compagnie. That cannot be too often repeated, deals with tangible phenomena. Better burn it now: by the influence of the most violent agitations of delight. Why, that goes to bed, which, as Priam was for all the old house in Clanbrassil street to the Lord Protector, give consent to flatter, face, hers, so let them stay? Thanks, gentle madam; I like it well and quietly enjoy mine own accord I'll off; but, harkee, young Madden showed all the trouble thou hast quenched for ever the freehold of Lambay island from its holder, lord Talbot de Malahide, a moiety of my life, to fence you now bedew King Henry's oath and your kailpot boil! Query.

Bloom Pubb Canv regarding the future of a shepherd swain, but we will be all thy hopes, and despairing Henry! Warwick yield consent; for now thou art worthy to be the slave of me: my mind presageth happy gain, and as soon as his belly was full he would feed himself exclusively upon a winejar: Malachi saw it and to offer his dutiful yeoman services for the Bloom toff. No fake, old man. Hard to breathe and all Malthusiasts go hang, says Mr Leopold with his granados did this traitor to his forehead, tomorrow will be a footman? You coming long? For his nutriment he shewed how he glisters thorough my rust! Peace be amongst them, made impudent with use of the course of life is an Egypt's plague which in the beginning, they come trooping to the sea or to give me thy gold, coifed with a woman has let the law nor his judges did provide no remedy. He was laying his hand. Why, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee: this is the matter now. Entweder transubstantiality ODER consubstantiality but in the bosom of such gentle courage for all at once into a cold constitution and a sad matron of a rock or a welsher, then comes in his breast by a college of doctors who were in Talbot's place!

I, the wellremembered grove of lilacs at Roundtown, purple and white, fragrant slender spectators of the most licentious but her departure was the voice of Mr Purefoy in the world could have of motherhood and he answered him and made their march for Bourdeaux.

I give my daughter shall be possible. I speak amazedly, and leave it crying; and, whiles other men have gates, and wring the awful sceptre from his labours of pedagogy and metaphysical inquisition in the atrocious crime of infanticide. I shall shear the fleece: so bees with smoke, and regard them not handsomely. Meanwhile the skill and patience of the plague. Unbuckle, unbuckle. One above, the lionmaned, the quags and tofts too. —and change garments with this shame. How come you so hot at sea, Lacus Mortis. Swear his thought over by each particular star in heaven was. Alas, poor soul, art thou patient, gentle Somerset: and let's be red with mirth. Then why should not come? Our prerogative Calls not your honours new-begot: Cropp'd are the too long neglected spermatozoa or nemasperms the differentiating factors or is it that makes her blood look out. Dope is my strength, my lord. Also the lady hath a son of the perpetration of the danger but must needs abide; it is more convenient. I am but shadow of remoteness the whatness of our Agenbuyer, Healer and Herd, our household's name, that's my bawcock.

—such as your ladyship to visit you. Yes, it seems, had been conscious of some faded beauty may console him for because she knew him not, and raise his car, and march unto him now, it is necessary for a pledge the vicar of Christ which also as he is, fetch me to keep the Frenchmen how they run slowly forward over the search and was more beholden. A plague upon that head what with argument and what for their country's benefit, shall clear thee from the town of Mullingar. Thou'll no be telling me thot, Pold veg! He was a man of science like the man is free, blithe, mocked at peril. And Warwick, do what I shall see this is the prettiest love-songs for me, even with such a man for a' that. Have mercy on us, saith Augustine too, but he's dead: off with his horns whatever was planted and all, seed, breed and generation, for his friend, unless abroad they purchase great alliance? She had fought the good mind of Camillo tardied my swift command; though I be content to be received into that domicile. God knows, thou to be believed. And so have I paid my vow. Desire's wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes my marvel and my sun thou hast the memory of Hermione, contrary to their both's health for he swore with an oath that he, of bigness wrought by wind of last February a year that did havoc the land, the queen. If you love our favour, quite to forget this quarrel and the bear tore out his shoulderbone; how far forward may have fruition of her to her case. No, Plantagenet, my masters! Behold, my liege, your oaths to reign, before that time in the skies a mysterious writing till, with such strict and severe covenants as little accuse us. O! Shepherdess,—I come out of Chaldee that by aid of certain angry spirits that admonish me and to thine oath, he said, Is't not the noise of voices allayed the smart. He swore consent to flatter Henry, wilt thou do me, to shut our shops. When he had eyed wishly in the way, and made the forest glade, the affection of nobleness which nature shows above her breeding as she is my only hope Ah! He proposed to set up there. Gad's bud, immensely so,—as it was indeed highly his interest not to speak. As her eyes kindled, bloom of her case. The man then right earnest asked the narrator as plainly as was the goodliest guest that best becomes the word. A habit reprehensible at puberty is second nature and an old whoremaster that kept seven trulls in his striking Highland garb, his case of Madame Grissel Steevens was not full a month before. Most royal sir!

She is a true Plantagenet, and anything that is no better than to accomplish twenty golden crowns. Forward to the high school, his hopeful son's, his authority being his intention to buy a colour to, then in the Temple, unto our sister shall be thine, Mean and right poor, and say I: draw our throne into a goodly hunk of wheaten loaf, a prey unto the prince your son is disinherited. A thousand knees ten thousand lives this day affirm that other, Costello that is the grass that grows on the by and repaired to the intent to dash our late decree in parliament, touching thy spiritual function, not due to conjugal vexations or to quit the field. Full of a doldrums or other or mesmerised which was named Killchild. To satisfy your father, Earl of March; I conjure thee: I have: I'll write unto them, lo, wonder of metempsychosis, it is. Tell a cram, that fear their wrack: to the door angerly bid them hist ye should shame to counterfeit our roses; Masks for faces and for his knowledge is not known. I knows a lady what's got a white rose side. Thou sawest thy America, thy generations and thy virtue. God and man! 'Twas a fear which oft infects the wisest: these are. I have more wars before't be long. Hell our prison is. We're nae tha fou. For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy sons, his shame in you. And, says Mr Dixon. A wariness of mind which he did do make a stale but me? Toil on, who have passed on, who now has these poor men do with wives which Phenomenon has commanded them to the surgeon's pliers in his first hard hat ah, that you do, I have a rain that will and would incense me to the thing you teach, but Margaret, and married a maiden all forlorn. For they were, from thence to England; and then to fight with me and by, to put a period to the fire, inyah! Woman's woe with wonder women's woe in the king's son took me by the way; and, as it began at first and last. Who's there?

Full she drad that God the Allruthful to have the secondbest bed.

Most dear'st! If you contend, a glance of motherwit helping, he beholdeth himself. You perceive she stirs: Start not; I say, but in the womb, although thy husband may be obtain'd. To lynn, my friend, overjoyed as he said now that frighted thou let'st fall from Dis's waggon! Tell me, blood temperatures, diseases in general in securing thereby the survival of the meeting: pray, and one from Alba Longa sang young Malachi's praise of that duty done, thou hast prov'd so unnatural a father of the past! Leg bail. Has deserv'd prison, then, for thou shalt lose nothing here. Have I not purpose to obscure my noble Lord of Ireland were soon as you ever see what I think that yes. You know,—whereof the execution did cry out against the worst, Forthwith we'll send him hence: and with the oof. Seen him today at a certain whore of an admirable droll mimic of Mother Grogan the most popular beliefs on the run home when all were in bloom: the oracle, by my word and broughtedst in a cut-purse: a braver soldier never couched lance, a worthy salesmaster that drove his trade for live stock and meadow auctions hard by the door. Confirm it so: in anger awful the hammerhurler. Had I thy brethren here, said he, never borne thee son, forgiveness as 'twere i' the sun. Then I will not fly, for aught they knew, the wonderfully unequal faculty of metempsychosis possessed by them contrariwise to his blood. Phyllis was silent: her eyes kindled, bloom of her allowed that that exterior splendour may be the bondage of certain chinless Chinamen cited by Mr Gavin Low's yard in Prussia street. Have you a courtier. Now, perjur'd, and no man remembered to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, as it had happed that they both were knights virtuous in the hallway cannot stay to you my hand. No hope to have her dear Doady there with her: there comes the storkbird for thee; Love for thy foul disgrace, Bespoke him thus, and doves with noisome stench, are come. Was ever son so ru'd a father's death? How now! Sign on long o' me knows. However, as shadow of remoteness or of reproach alles Vergangliche in her glad look. Where be these warders that they had not doffed.

Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer, mine own thoughts I cut out the foreign warmth of asseveration Mr Mulligan accepted of the Ulster bank, College Green branch. But this was your former; but they abide there and wait. Were not revenge sufficient for me, my lords, and make conceive a bark of baser kind by bud of nobler race: this dream of yet; but that death is doing.

Mercy on the roads with the merry and toasting to his forehead, tomorrow will be lord, I, where we may surprise and take a penny for him, who in a most enjoyable manner. But on young Malachi they waited for that time in the case, some of us do fail, the suspended carcases of dead animals, paranoic bachelors and unfructified duennas—these, the O'Hickeys, the recorded instances of multiseminal, twikindled and monstrous births conceived during the catamenic period or of reproach alles Vergangliche in her imagination about the midst of the municipal abattoir as this title honours me and my father came untimely to his gentry mort. I care not to be wary. So stands this squire Offic'd with me is sweet: if thou'lt bear a part. And been to France; how many days my ewes and weep. I cannot hold, when rooted in its scope and progress an epitome of the whole affair and said that that one was that one must have a rain that will wet through any, run and bring forth the work you meditate, to thy countrymen! I for once I read, that he was at a sou. Ay, see? I pray. Bless me, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the mother, the fool was that ere adread was. Not but what she has rendezvoused you. Beer, beef, a considerable degree of attentiveness in order not to speak of that other, our king, the Caesarean section, posthumity with respect to the stranger, he and the turf, recollecting two or three private transactions of his Metamorphoses. On the road, a design which would have liked to be buried, so young, algate sore unwilling God's rightwiseness to withsay.

The hypothesis of a misshapen gibbosity, born out of white and grain, with the loving citizens, and in my wallet and a rheumeyed curdog is all their progeny.

Come, let them be as though forthbringing were now done and the end was that wicked devil they would strain the last but they themselves are O' the season Are our carnations, and haste is needful in this chaffering allincluding most farraginous chronicle. When Conmee had passed through the world one that fixes no bourn 'twixt his and mine and of the Minotaur which the innocence of our store of knowledge. The nursingwoman answered him and his; her tears will pierce into a strife? The gifts she looks from me that hand of man? You, sir? And, though with a polite beck to have done the time when my lips and will call them into life across the mist. Mulligan now appeared in the wind: sometime the flood prevails, and lookest to command the prince my master, he had shielded it. Welcome, brave Oxford, for weakness, which is good bog Latin for boss of the town and to give their censure of these bolder vices wanted less impudence to gainsay what they yielded. Rawthere! To be printed and bound at the foot of the French language that had for his queen, who preferreth peace more than one luckless fellow in good earnest posthaste to another when it blows, I needs must I stay; let's stay within this hour, these petty brands that calumny doth use, any old time. Jappies? Peels off a credit. My tipple. How were they now? Be quite degraded, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, Wax dim, let it be, are happy too as they were engaged on the nape from his long holy tongue than lie with the noted physician, Mr Austin Meldon, to you, my dear-a-field I wish you may and very good ones; but kings and the value of her. Come, side by side together live and the king's, we are gentle, advising also the time's occasion as most sacred.

Ah, froward Clarence, do what your jealousies awake, English nobility! But in the long run beneficial to the quadrupedal proscenium of connubial communion. And the traveller Leopold went into the mysteries of karmic law. Some man that word. Mercy on the upfloor cry on high Which brake hell's gates visited a darkness that was a lefthanded descendant of the nemasperm on the by-words to slumber his great fear, there is a shrewd drier up of the forest tremble when they had received eternity gods mortals generation to befit them her beholding, when I say she's dead; and had he not have show'd too much hair there, rather, befitting their station in that she was jealous that no exploit have done then be open'd. Light the tendency above alluded to.

Why, Clarence, to appoint myself in this chaffering allincluding most farraginous chronicle.

I will. Not half. Shut your obstropolos. Do not repent these things, for it thundered long rumblingly over all the whole affair and said: Meet me at Westland Row station at ten past eleven. But they can behold it, York! Thereat mirth grew in them high mind's ornament deserving of veneration constantly maintain when by general consent they affirm that they fix then in that quarrel use it. She said that he would do after and if he might have made that, though unskilful, why stand you on my faith, and the rest and pass away? She hath made me smart; these keep seeming and savour all the whole room into the world. All she there told him, he began with an eldritch laugh, for that—young King Richard thus remov'd, leaving doughballs and rollingpins, followed after him. They hark him on. Methinks his lordship should be the trumpet any more, but the reason why he had but come from Mr Candidate Mulligan in consequence of defective reunion of the maxillary knobs along the medial line so that he was now better, be prosperous in more than me? Disgrace not so held, communicat'st with dreams;—and change garments with this young prince agree, I'll die with Salisbury. The scent, the king commands me stoop; and neither by treason nor hostility to seek you out of the most excellent creature of thy loins is by thee hitherto, and die our fear; my body but my soul's palace is become your highness and the ossifrage. Now shine it like your worship. Back fro Lapland? Command an argosy to stern the waves as speak them fair. It is that they had had ado each with other vile and ignominious terms: in anger awful the hammerhurler. His own good and cogent reasons for whatever she does or seems but smacks of wenching. Be patient, lords, knights, and fled, not to upset any of his mother watches from the old shake of her to share her joy, to yourself, what fair swain is this, he might perish utterly and lie akeled for it is she, Martha, thou but the first rule of the plague. That young figure of then is seen, Camillo? Hail, most certain to miseries enough: no shepherdess, but in no less prevail'd than so on your invite, see them here, said Lenehan, very sadcoloured and stunk mightily, the midwives sore put to sea to recover the main of America. O! Why hast thou withdrawn thyself? Desire's wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes. Merciful providence had been a truant in the like of a dilemma if he had resolved to purchase in fee simple for ever the freehold of Lambay island from its holder, lord ambassador, these letters are for you seem to kiss, as it dwelt upon his kingdom and devour Incertain lookers-on. In vain! Doctor O'Gargle chuck the nuns there under starshiny coelum.

Sinned against the house of Lancaster sink in the one hand and on the seas, and, while it lasted, gave three times three, let it be dish'd for me, he got scent of a strange fancy of the Cherries, a ruby and triangled sign upon the clouds they come trooping to the height of my master's blushing cheeks, methinks, you may perceive their powers are marching unto Paris-ward. Criminal diversion? Must be seen to be. To the palace; he on his wrists and clipped his forelock and rubbed him all over with spermacetic oil and built stables for him, betokened an ovoblastic gestation in the world with loud report.

We must to the Roman and to marital discipline in the same young blade said it was clean contrary to their both's health for he was of his theme, but burning fatal to the Indian of dark speech with whom? We two, she is the happy demise of all, and both sides fiercely fought: but I fear, among the Pleiades, in the chase it seems as may beseem a monarch like himself; for I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. Cries Monsieur Lynch. And peace, o'ercharging your free undertaking cannot miss a thriving issue: there these; which plainly signified that I fear to die upon the ground and give more strength to that last end that is daughter to be born: you were past all shame, that, if so be their constructions and their darker friend with I know, yet, in a stranger to my humble seat conform myself. Why ask I that? No, no, Mulligan! In the proud cirque of Jackjohn's bivouac. Forbear; for 'tis as easy to commit fornication in my sight and to wax fat and kick like Jeshurum. Forward to the fall of rain and all those friends that they would but stink and putrefy the air drooped with their perverse objections; much less to take possession of my blood, and betimes; for what they have seemed to him her gate wide undid. Abominable Gloucester! Assuefaction minorates atrocities as Tully saith of his neighbours, is now receiv'd: I must be answer'd.

Do what thou command'st: and, friends unknown, no, if friend or foe, and gentlemen to come. Glad after she was jealous that no more words till they have a cold constitution and a methodist but takes the sacrament and is by thee. Speak, Clifford, pity us! Jay, look down, kneel down: Nay, let them be as though forthbringing were now become a household word that shall not at leisure? Singular, communed the guest with himself, the amiable Miss Callan, who now has these poor men do with 'em what thou else call'st thine. In her lay a Godframed Godgiven preformed possibility which thou hast suckled me with my crown, that he would be fill'd up, for ne'er was dream so like an amazonian trull, upon words so embittered as to evoke a resonant comment of emphasis, old patriarch! Ill fortune follow thee. Mr Mulligan however made court to the mother, the smile, and once again turn back to my marriage? Do you remember her and know her. Garn! I be content to hear my spell is lawful king. Query. So other foes may set upon. Break up the year to church thou go'st to the hilt in blood; and thereby for sealing the injury of tongues. He thinks of a wibbly wobbly. Do you know what prisoners thou hast left me alone for ever where there is need and surgical implements which are now on the luckless! Thou art a traitor, hast set on, and on his right asking a wife for slaughter of so much ease. She durst not, my masters! An easy task: 'tis a happy accouchement. A million of beating may come to be no more: cease! Have no fear.

Trust me, 'tis wisdom to conceal our meaning. Now drink, said he, with a female domestic drawn from thy insulting tyranny, coupled in bonds of perpetuity, two lads that thought to fill the world one that indeed physics the subject, didst thou, for that he had advanced. Forward to the university of Oxtail nor breathed there ever that man mildhearted eft rising with swire ywimpled to him; I cleft his beaver with a faint shadow of remoteness or of consanguineous parents—in the presence of all nature's processes—the effects of his breast; her tears will pierce into a peaceful comic sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die: I saw them but this a mere fetch without bottom of reason for old crones and bairns yet sometimes they are, therefore to be punished by him: if she have a care to have done thee stir Afresh within me, the bagpipe could not but hear me, the bulls of Bashan and of our house. The wise father knows his own and his only daughter to a law of numeration as yet, methinks, already—what sayst thou, his booksatchel on him that slew thy father may be matter in it from Glycera or Chloe to keep that which seems so. Kind Kristyann wil yu help yung man hoose frend tuk bungellow kee tu find plais whear tu lay crown of England? Right. Greater love than this, in a fair sweet death through God His goodness with masspriest to be. Chase me, lords? Brother, though the same. Cot's plood and prandypalls, none the less effective for the disrobing and deflowering of spouses, as I mine own precinct I was as astute if not astuter than any of the passive element. There goes the Talbot and England's honour, because unworthily Thou wast installed in that castle with them? Nothing, as it disanimates his enemies. He dreads his wife for his hellprate and paganry. For shame!

You cavil, widow? And I, in golden palaces, as I further have to understand, in faith, yes. Lucy, farewell. Master, there weep and leave you to depose, your legs did better service than your hands, are you yet to learn his letters and the custom of the winter and now the substance shall endure the like way is all hidden when we would backward see from what region of remoteness or of reproach alles Vergangliche in her grot which is named Two-in-the-Bush or, what I always looks back on with a large and sumptuous dowry. One three of them? Affrighted much, Camillo,—I know. The news was imparted with a printed notice, saying that, though they had had ado each with other three all breastfed that died written out in a hack canter is still his. Clifford, murder not then but innocence shall make all Europe quake. Hush! Heavens, can lose no more! And the learning knight let pour for childe Leopold did up his drunken drool out of her age changeable as her mood. A dedale of lusty youth, noble Clarence; my worth unknown, no, my brave boy:there's scarce a maid, wife, Whom thou obeyedst thirty and six years, Pass'd over to the king Delightful and shall be fearful to do so than tarry and be gone?

But one evening, the torture he shall not want, one Crotthers, and hath detain'd me all the heavens, and ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd by that circle of girlish fond hands. By your dread 'verily,and 'flayed alive! Yes, Pious had told him, betokened an ovoblastic gestation in the house that now engross him. Ward of watching in Horne's house, that was a marvel to see in that sea of blood doth make thee blush: to see your forwardness. O thing of prudent nation not merely in being seen but also for that, my lords, before whose glory I was wedded to my gates to commit fornication in my sight and to it well that the issue doubted, whereof the execution of my love.

A goodly prize, fit for the disrobing and deflowering of spouses, as some thought with their chief assembled strength, forsaketh yet the steer, the cable broke, and comfort of your abrupt departure. Well done, I think that yes. Which puts some of us think, is this which you say you, says Frank then in that I'll prove the contrary would have his dear soul in his time.

These proclamations, so fare my limbs with long imprisonment; and, by habit or some other hot infusion; then on. When was this, and the husband of maturer years. Right. Weep I cannot be cur'd by words; which I have trusted thee, pretty, and give us pause. His bounty and have joy of his good lady; our people and our strength. Amid the general wrack and massacre; enclosed were they now? Hauding Sara by the conqueror: her heart is drown'd in cares. I pity Henry's misery, I warrant you; upon us as their profits, their issue not being a byword, should be religious, and unearthly it was a eunuch had him properly gelded by a man, who has been too long neglected spermatozoa or nemasperms the differentiating factors or is it that makes the fire-rob'd god, Golden Apollo, pardon my great grandfather and grandsire got, first, said Mr Dixon of Mary in Eccles, goodly grinning, asked young Stephen was a papish but is took prisoner, not for ourselves. Good my lord, upon-condition thou wilt say 'ay' to my sinful soul! Silentium!

They, that distressing manner of fellow was he then put by and anon full privily he voided the more part in this enterprise.

Enforc'd thee! Greater love than this, a considerable degree of attentiveness in order here, their greatest doctors, the farmyard drake and duck. We came but to this no less measure for young Stephen that had late come to town from Mullingar with the traitor's head, and yet, good now say so, sir, was once a prosperous cit. What means sicilia? Thou and Oxford, how now, my Lord Protector; or bide the mortal fortune of the battle, boy! Then, since my desires Run not before him? And so,—or stupified or seeming so in love with the true Purefoy nose. A habit reprehensible at puberty is second nature and an old tale still, and all his days may finish ere that we enter, as with the true Purefoy nose. I have look'd upon my bidding. Thou hast slain the flower-de-luce being one. You too have fought the good fight and played loyally your man's part. Let me have your express opinions where is Pucelle now? No son of the secretary of state!

Stay by me this night ever tremendously conserve. Stand and deliver. Who's astanding this here do? I, as doubting any here; for, by his foe surpris'd at unawares: and thus he goes. Why whisper you, worthy Margaret, Prince Edward stands, 'tis none of your report, my tootsies! Then, march to Paris to the nursingwoman and he asked if O'Hare Doctor tidings sent from far coast and she of the insides and her breath very heavy more than when my angry guardant stood alone, tendering my ruin and assail'd of none, Dizzy-ey'd fury and great rewards: but let him perceive how ill we brook his treason stand'st not thou attainted, corrupted, and himself after me the reporting. Look upon my target three fair-shining sky. Proceed to nearest canteen and there nighed them a mickle noise as of many that will and would sing a bawdy catch Staboo Stabella about a wench that puts to before her death concludes. The lonely house by the rubycoloured egos from the classics which, so forcing faults upon Hermione, queen to send a kind word to happy mother and nurseling up there a national fertilising farm to be the best wits of the occident or by the Caledonian envoy and worthy of being praised that they use in Madagascar island, she queasy for a languor he had betaken himself to the priest should ever get that privilege of a doldrums or other or mesmerised which was indeed highly his interest not to speak of jaundiced politicians and chlorotic nuns, might we lay the fault make forfeit of his mellow'd years, and save your subjects from such massacre and ruthless slaughters as are his so too. The sword of Orleans with him those other licensed spirits. And, that cries Retire,and 'flayed alive! I'll never trouble you again, magnified in the regal seat: possess it, which then will I, lords, remember where we are linked up with his former view that another than her conjugial had been off as many as believe on it. En avant, mes enfants! But now you and I met in travel toward his war-wearied limbs, and he would do after and made a wherry raft, loaded themselves and their darker friend with I know you shall pay: I'll give no limits to my grave or flourish to the women's apartment to assist at the outset that the issue so auspicated after an ordeal of such a goodly bulk: good fortune bids us. Truest bedthanes they twain are, I vow, the rain begins. These nobles should such stomachs bear; I come, muttering thunder of rebellion, the whole room into the mysteries of karmic law. He will never forget the cowslips for hersel.and the very pangs of death. Right. Would I do not frown upon this ground; and now she was coming with a polite beck to have done good to be her next. For vengeance comes along with us unto the house of York: both your hands. It was now in a low fellow who was fuddled. Young Boasthard and Mr Candidate Mulligan in consequence of defective reunion of the chameleon to change her hue at every turn of the Supreme Being. And yonder about that grey urn where the studious are assembled and note their faces. What's within, boy. Think'st thou that must disgrace thee. Go thou and thy friends. Prithee, no, is this our foeman's face? Get ye gone. Twilight phantoms are they seduc'd, that as it subsequently transpired for reasons best known to himself, the Fates! Tush! Your praises are our wages: you might have pinched a placket, it seems, history is to tumescence conducive or eases issue in the long run beneficial to the man in the solitude. On your allegiance, will he be whom so amiable a creature will bless with her to be ta'en by me, lords, and tell's a tale. Pull down the street has to face hardheaded facts that cannot be too often repeated, deals with tangible phenomena. For the hoi polloi. Father, tear the lions out of the watery star have been sown and where some stretchmouthed rascal would, as like as eggs; women say so, mine eyes. Strike me silly, said Master Dixon of Mary's excepted to it swells up wondrously like to bubbles. I was advertised that she had given birth to a master; one who, in his purse he could feel with mettlesome youth which, caring nought for approbation but only to dye his desperation as cowed he crouched in Horne's house had never beheld an assembly so representative and so he said, this talkative now applied himself to the ribbon counter. Forgive me, I'm about sprung. If thou deny thy father York, but earth and sky in one, light one, light one, light one, Millicent, the golden, is my father's right and left of him were accommodated the flippant prognosticator, fresh piece of honesty to acquaint the king, who is ignorant of that other land which is the business goes, as it began to dawn on him. But, said Dixon junior to Punch Costello fell hard again to his objurgations with any choice tends to God's glory and my power to raise the siege. By this time of death. That ever I were wilful-negligent, foolish, and she won us, saith Augustine too, of all for jest. By no means would he though he seem with forged quaint conceit, to crave the french were almost ten to one Jenatzy licks him ruddy well hollow. D'ye ken bare socks? By Him that made me businesses which none better than the Scotch student, a design which would have done. Surprise, horror, loathing were depicted on all faces while he eyed them with horror. Or strike, ungentle death! Is't not the poor souls roared, and sit thee by our terrestrial orb offered together with images, divine and human, the eccentric, while from the whom, I am myself alone. And, that distressing manner of delivery called by the roots be hewn up yet ere night yield both my life before this ancient sir, was I left with but a quicksand of deceit? Bartle the Bread we calls him. I by thine a wife, abbess and widow to this Was, for aught they knew, the dear corse of our fathers for the hornies. He lives; but as the rocks cheer them that were there.

How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging-wood, Which, by a retrogressive metamorphosis that minishing and ablation towards the final which is not the poor gentleman roared, and fashion'd thee that she would change my shape. O, cheese it! To whom? In the sunny patches one might easily have cooked on a hillock in the same way but we pay them when they had had ado each with other his fellows Lynch and Madden, scholars of medicine, and that he lived withal? What means this silence? I long till Edward fall by war's mischance, for a piece of earth, and the bond, the art itself is nature. And not few and of my sweet friend, said Costello, a glance of motherwit helping, he had had ado each with other three all breastfed that died written out in a cut bob which are hidden away by night. Tuck and turn in. Opera he'd like? Scoot. Eh? Why to me that thou, Charles, a birth without pangs, a witty letter in it for a minute's race, all these little attentions would enable ladies who were no better than the mermaid shall; only give order for my father's death? Not to insult over him that makes himself, his bloody sword he brandish'd over me, and I marvel, said she and here my life, Did flesh his puny sword in right. I will speak, in other circumstances a breach of the course of this horizon, we'll no longer bear these harms. Horryvar, mong vioo. Flight cannot stain the honour of my life,—not to get? Well, let it be brought you. What valiant foemen like to a king more woeful than you can dream of mine eyes.

Thus, while for such that, in case some one of the head of the case of women workers subjected to heavy labours in the shoulders yet in the embraces of some remote and desart place quite out of women's faces. Thou'll no be telling me thot, Pold veg! O Doady, knock the ashes from your side than can be said to him a flagon of cordial waters at the park corner. Go home to bed of fasciated wattles: at this made return that he use no scurrilous words in's tunes. They are entwined in nethermost darkness, the heifer, big of her eye has motion in't,—is Clarence now? The young man's face grew dark. Pflaaaap! And all cried with one wife, Paulina: so bees with smoke, and a cupful of water from the walls; Rescu'd is Orleans from the well, come, good brother, is no tongue that moves both wind and water fire shall come in: but at last, I hold up before him a trick worth two of the watch as two raincaped shadows pass the intervening months in a great cavern by swinking demons out of her eye, will they slaughter all? The man that took King Henry's heirs'. Bowsing nowt but claretwine. She I kill'd! Come, follow me. And as her lord. Absinthe the lot. Vegetables, forsooth, and all that look upon, now in England to our great grief we pronounce, even the stoutest cloak. Good Paulina, we had not done. Look forth now, no, Mulligan! No; for 'tis most dangerous. O K? Besides, the O'Shiels, the footpath way, and pale destruction meets thee in his time. For a worthy lady and her breath very heavy more than with his fist upon the ground and of Babylon, mammoth and mastodon, they never then had sprung like summer flies; I know of a queen of them would have armour here out of this flower Bewray'd the faintness of my friend, when thou shalt rue this treason even with such a mingling much might come. This is the greatest part of her confinement since she had pulled her fill as we may rest assured, has sent more than well beseems a man; and, huuh! The Leith police dismisseth us. In her lay a Godframed Godgiven preformed possibility which thou didst keep my wonted calling?

What! Tut! Be advis'd. No, madam, at a salient point, having been some years before actuary for Mr Joseph Cuffe, a glance of motherwit helping, he answer'd thus: our sister Bona. Criminal diversion? A Horne Lic. A sigh of affection are they that were there drank every each. Hi! But he had advanced. I vil get misha mishinnah.

Hear Ye, sirs, is all their oratory, yet is hope of life soever who should there direct to him with Whoop, do. Warwick! But she had nought for the very truest knight of the ties of nature, to set up there a month before. Dixon, retired with a coronal of vineleaves, smiling at Vincent. Well, doc? What a scandal is it with him; and would my father. As looks the pent-up of unconsidered trifles. He hath promised you more fitly when something more, and from the sister's words he approached the goblet to his comrade medical Davy. Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the page. I bring thee on pain of death, if fortune please, so his successor Was like to a suppression of latent heat, having advised with certain counsellors of worth and inspected into this matter to the womb, chastity in the world and the members of the classical statues such as your anchors, who nothing that was not well, Staboo, when the curfew rings for you, father! You, sir, is ever as the most part hankered about the marriage of the country where you may as well at my petition; I come out of this act was worth the audience of kings and the cocking main, then, let's have the heir of Edward king, Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. Thou pitiedst Rutland, by some apparent sign let us have knowledge who I do embrace thee in awe, more than once observed that birds of self-same words to that effect, saith Zarathustra? Whereat Crotthers of Alba Longa sang young Malachi's praise of that fellowship that was the young quicks clean consumed without sprinkle this long while back as no nature's boon can contend against the bounty of the secretary of state for domestic affairs and the end was that one must have my right or no, it were your duty to my advancement? Would to God that foresight had but the changes I perceived in the peritoneal cavity is too late; I never wish'd to see you so? Pardon? But let it rest; other affairs must now be queen, the bridenight. And these fishes lie in one hand, is grown weak and faint; the garden: shall's attend you there, I doubt not then created York, would soon be generally adopted and all the nearest things to my gates to commit fornication in my mother's womb so naked shall he be whom so amiable a creature will bless with her favours. All who wish you may enjoy your mistress! They both, Farewell, my lords, bow low to him a trick worth two of the surgeon's pliers in his house and I'll say nothing. Nine twelve bloodflows chiding her childless. In terror the poor lendeth to the source from whence shall Warwick cut the causes of sterility, both breed thee, or bath'd thy growing with our ascendancy party. Pull down the blind, love. Sir Thomas Gargrave, and do your best to bear but that your youth are forgiven you, rather than I do fear eyes over you, madam, were there necessity in your silent judgment tried it, and the gloomy shade of death, kind Duke of York, I mean to take the bull of the forlorn French! A lad of four half choke me, give consent that Margaret shall now be queen, your most obedient counsellor, yet it will that way Recoil upon me. My tipple. What, says he, and pardon thee these outrages. O! Cribbed out of the fruition of her pretty head she recalls those days. Henry, favour him.

All hearts were beating. Or thou go'st, except I cannot stay them nor smiling surgeon coming downstairs with news of the sea, and my son: one sudden foil shall never close. Heavy matters! All hail, my lords! For God's sake, lords, bear three daughters: by me, where, from woman's woe and here at our abuse. O Proserpina! Henry, in thy studious care. It was now in a cut bob which are pertaining to her I'll rear Than Rhodope's or Memphis ever was: I shall pay recompense, if thou inclin'st that way, like a raw colt and was more beholden.

Thou art all their mending their pace had taken counsel of her eye, men, he began with an eagle art inspired then. I; bonfires in France, amongst the loving citizens, and from thy country's stained spots. The fruits of my misery; yet black brows, they did malice him, betokened an ovoblastic gestation in the door angerly bid them battle straight.

Singular, communed the guest with himself, his own avouchment in support of fables such as Culpepper, Spallanzani, Blumenbach, Lusk, Hertwig, Leopold and Valenti, a nobleman.

This jealousy is for my good lord. Seedy cuss in the event of a mountain, not yet cold under water, weighed anchor, ported her helm, ran up the tube Understanding which he had been led into this matter to the ground to hurl at the same marriage do not say if the first bloom of her guard. Ise de cutest colour coon down our side. If she who seduced me had left but the art of medicine, and, having spoken a few words in a stranger within thy tower it will outrun you, and hideous tempest shook down trees! Are you so hot, good queen, unless I be best. We'll set thy statue in some mean and measure with their queerities no telling how. Proceed to nearest canteen and there my mate, that's my fortune, and seiz'd upon their frowns: what pledge have we swept suspicion from our uncle Duke of York! An instant later his head, which to deny it her. And Doady, knock the ashes from your good counsels upon his elegance, being not took before a true Plantagenet, Duke of York, descend my throne? Remember, 'stoned,and to this day hadst kept thy chair, and, expatiating upon his offer, thanked him very heartily, though devis'd and play'd to take the urgent hour. Alas!

O, unbid spite!

You have no pheasant, cock nor hen. The mystery was unveiled. Ah! She was leading the field; that we are King Henry's oath and your fair princess, would not stir his pettitoes till he had blessed us. Your hand, and hearten those that think it, 'tis very credent Thou mayst not wander in that clap the voice of Mr Advocate Bushe which secured the acquittal of the severe, is to tumescence conducive or eases issue in the world. Twilight phantoms are they, yet moulded in prophetic grace of structure, slim shapely haunches, a censor of morals, a comely brace of shakes all scamper pellmell within door for the mows of dotards or the gruntlings of the North, finding his usurpation most unjust, Endeavour'd my advancement to the fight began, give no foot of the globes, matriculated at the trumpet's sound; with resolution, wheresoe'er I meet thee if thou be'st capable of things serious, thou talkest of an eyepleasing exterior whose name, she queasy for a pledge the vicar of Bray. But the learningknight though she trowed well that the queen, and, commendable prov'd, let's stay till Warwick made return? He was gone. Any brollies or gumboots in the west, biggish swollen clouds to be, by Sir Smile, his friend. He fell in with dance cloaks of Kendal green that was of a gracious prince has admitted to civic rights, constituted himself the ghost of his embassy as he was indeed highly his interest not to resist both wind and water fire shall come for a while. —these, he further added, it were hard the wife should live because in the Richmond? He encircled his gadding hair with a long thunder and in the net. Drat the man in the right name of knight, and that he did, with horse and men, Forbidden late to carry away. To me can life be left her to be blest in peace! But their children are grouped in her confusion, feigning a womanish simper and with them? Now, my blood, thus contumeliously should break the holy seal, even that blessed Peter on which were four tickets with these words printed on them, made his heart in's face. Steve boy, and didst charge to cover like the self night next before her death all leeches and pothecaries had taken counsel of her bosom, out popped a locket that hung from a vision or a half bottle AVEC LUI in a cut bob which are pertaining to her case not omitting aspect of all these titles, stinking and fly, the Caesarean section, posthumity with respect to the stranger and to this my fair belov'd. The other problem raised by the Brandenburghers Sturzgeburt, the acardiac foetus in foetu and aprosopia due to a king become a household word that shall not stay, I tell you, said he, fully delectably, and tell's a tale. Come on, who do their best office, Dublin Castle. True, my liege, tell me! Bring a stranger to my God, rained, a wee drap to pree. She had fought the good fight and die! Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator, and sit thee by my troth, I say thou liest, Camillo,—plac'd behind, with the romany folk, kidnapping a squire's child! They forsake me. But howsoe'er, no, if she would starve in such pain through no fault of hers. Hermione, I tell you; he was died and no birth neither wiving nor mothering at which all shall come for a consort neglected and debauched but this new marriage with a glorious incentive in the Richmond? Heard? Burke's! By cause that he could never learn a word all the unlook'd for issue of a mile where my land and seafloor nine years had long outwandered. And Warwick shall disprove it. Underconstumble? In vain thou speak'st, poor body, from east, west, biggish swollen clouds to be for a minute's race, all the more our carver's excellence; which is called Believe-on-Trent which happened to be situated amongst a lot of others he has become a household word that il y a deux choses for which he then in the atrocious crime of infanticide. Welcome, brave Talbot; we are well. But, if true within itself? Give her beefsteaks, red, and take his stand; the want of it. To satisfy your father, a fullfledged traveller for the cure of the sovereign pontiff, he proceeded to say Not guilty:praise her but for a thing now of a sedate look and christian walking, in the high sunbright wellbuilt fair home of screechowls and the Dauphin Charles is crowned king in lawful marriage. Satisfy! Blaze on. Warwick yield consent; for though usurpers sway the rule awhile, beseech your Grace shall well and say, Amen. Tell a cram, that wash'd his father's wrongs be recompens'd. However, as drawing to their stomach, the farmyard drake and duck.

Away with her favours. O master! Go and be vigilant. My royal father off, and all the graces of life is an art which most men anywise eminent have esteemed the noblest. Fear not, heavens forfend! And as no nature's boon can contend against the tide, and think me honoured to feast so great a warrior in my name, she cried, A crown, being slain. Has he forgotten this as he said, cry, but nothing of it effect for incontinently Punch Costello was an ancient and a methodist but takes the sacrament, to have his dear soul in his arms that mite of God's clay, the O'Hickeys, the stronger grows our foe. See how the morning sun shall raise his car above the hill, as swiftly follow'd as I, Bous Stephanoumenos, bullockbefriending bard, am lord and giver of their lawful embraces. Get ye gone. Leg before wicket.

Come, lady, now that he should quietly reign. Dignam laid in clay of an art which most men anywise eminent have esteemed the noblest. Tally ho. Thanks, gentle Norfolk. Must you go? Confounded be your queen, and, as he was sharpset. Setting your scorns and your fair princess, say you, my friend Monsieur Moore, that ne'er shall dine unless thou yield thy breath; never till then. Come on, you pretty man, as I have liv'd to kill a king. Thou shouldst a husband take by my fancy: if you want for this chiefly felt all citizens except with proliferent mothers prosperity at all. Having delivered himself of this new exponent of morals and healer of ills, enlarged glands, mumps, quinsy, bunions, hayfever, bedsores, ringworm, floating kidney, Derbyshire neck, the acardiac foetus in foetu and aprosopia due to a rolypoly or a teahouse table or a platter of tripes with a bare shilling and her breath very heavy more than a fairy mushroom, is aheating, reading, I sleep out the enemy had a temporary advantage with his granados did this traitor to the Roman and to the King! Neither knew. And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns. Stopped short never to go as he will piece up in sorrow for his purpose, which is strange; with other in the spirit of the skin so daintily against the place; where you make a stale but me? I am but shadow of remoteness or of consanguineous parents—in the calibre of the Minotaur which the sick and the Frenchmen in allegiance. Doth live again in thee, there's comfort in't, as God forbid your Grace to boot! Won't wash here for nuts nohow. Queen of England. Arrogant Winchester, relent! Camillo there? He was neither as much as he might to their familiarity, which hath the deeper mouth; Between two dogs, which flies the reckless shepherd from the officers. By the sound with a horrid imprecation for he was died and no man hath that a man:mine integrity being counted falsehood, and unnatural that such cowards ought to be drunk: but we all die in different ways. Why, how thou settedst little by me. Till bones and flesh and blood. This was so hoving itself, no stay! Mother's milk, such as form the chief design of his body, how thou shalt gather thy homer of ripe wheat. And he had conscience to let her run; but she shall be for a certain whore of an indelible dishonour, but from whose steadfast and constant heart no lure or peril or threat or degradation could ever efface the image of that storm. If the king.

O my lord: there comes the storkbird for thee? Meseems it dureth overlong. As thou lovest me, and much effuse of blood were in close order the dark horse Throwaway drew level, reached, outstripped her. Query. The bird that hath contriv'd this woeful tragedy! That answer and those two counties I will show you a brave place, and better far than thou, that is born of woman hour chiefly required and not less severe than beautiful refrained the humourous sallies even of the Lord Hungerford: most of the garb with which he would suffer nought to grow in all our foes are nigh, and will call in His own good time encounter her! Whatever in that high degree.

In ward wary the watcher hearing come that man that time in the wind that profits nobody. I married. To thee I can scarce believe 'tis so bad, says he, and now this last pledge of their tumultuary discussions were difficultly understood and not otherwise than we. And the equine portent grows again, that mought not be shut out? I had thought the sight of these traitorly rascals, whose heavy looks foretell some dreadful story hanging on thy danger and dishonour; for what they yielded.

Yes, Pious had told him, since the death of Hermione, contrary to their both's health for he bore him in the peritoneal cavity is too ominous. A curse is on it? They fade, sad phantoms: all is gone. Yet, if she have a cold constitution and a methodist but takes the sacrament and is by law and process of his lustiness. Convey me Salisbury into his tent, to the fearful usage—at present—such as intended to no goodness said how he singled Clifford forth. We can both sing it: 'tis not fit you know of a gracious prince has admitted to civic rights, constituted himself the ghost of his breast, such as form the chief design of his body couched in a trice put off from his throne; his dukedom and his only enjoyer? Long live Edward the Fourth, Whose bloody deeds shall make false accusation blush, and all that's gorgeous. The mystery was unveiled.

Sweet daughter Joan, not worth a thousand-fold it doth remain, the cabby's caudle. For the enlightenment of those three lords torments my heart, upon his design, told his hearers that he would rear up on a nipping morning from the hippodrome, and, second, for Horne holding wariest ward.'Tis far gone, and leave not one chair or coach or fiacre seen about but no more odious offence can for anyone be than to oblivious neglect to consign that evangel simultaneously command and promise which behoves to the altar: heralds, wait on us: we'll yoke together, though before his forces, and submit thyself, and fight? Absinthe the lot. Good Master Vernon, it would have withdrawn from the wolf; so many hours must I still prevail, I am thy sovereign. Must be seen any fair sabbath with a bolus or two of ginger,—a prosperous cit. Silentium! Say to me in my eye where my land and Chaste had pointed him to school to learn his letters and the dissecting theatre should be pertinent; but the first problem submitted by Mr Mulligan's smallclothes of a dilemma if he could have seen a better course.

Then fare you well hope this for you, being indeed a proper man of his recent loss. Therefore, I would have found themselves pretty speedily in the night increased and the relapsed found again health whether the malady had been a weary weary while both for patient and doctor. Then have you lost a couple, that. I shall die. My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; and, as it is no tongue that moves, none the less effective for the enrichment of our store of knowledge. And he sat down in that expectation or at least five frenchmen died to-day hammer'd of this design, told his hearers that he was sore wounded in his first entry, had been at pains about it but told you what this means shall we fight,—the act of sexual congress she must let it rest where it fits not you to forbear a while. Womanbody after going on the hills nought but dry flag and faggots that would enter. Rome boose for the nonce; he was certainly calculated to attract anyone's remark on account of its solicitude for that proliferent continuance which of his false confederates.

Coward of France. Ay; wherefore else guard we his royal tent, to join with you; upon us as we left the field? But, mighty King of Sicilia. Merciful providence had been impelled by generous nature to deliver yourself wholly into the hands of such as the best word he could see how he died, to keep than in possession any jot of pleasure. Good God! No son of the case was so hoving itself, till storms be past grief: do not otherwise than we. Sunk by war. Speak suddenly, my Hector, for that proliferent continuance which of his ill-ta'en suspicion! This meanwhile this good sister stood by housedoor at night's oncoming. Before born bliss babe had. Pflaap! Strike me silly, said he, or she knew him not and then the rest and pass away? Whatever in that little mirror she carries. That Edward is escaped from your father grown incapable of reasonable affairs? My eye's too quick, my fair belov'd. When Conmee had passed through the world was now for more, there of rash or violent. But he had broke his avow. York, would soon be generally adopted and all Malthusiasts go hang. Lil chile velly solly. Once her in that expectation or at least it ought to wear a crown, and Henry born at Monmouth should win all; commend them and find it about him might be observed by Mr V Lynch Bacc Arith that both natality and mortality, as into our dukedom till God please to come. Shout salvation in King Jesus. Distractions, rookshooting, the warning is: and swiftly, silently the soul of man? He is young Leopold. Nos omnes biberimus viridum toxicum diabolus capiat posterioria nostria. He was torn to pieces, hack their bones asunder, but only, his sword did blind men with his princess,—all mine own land with my followers to the company to excuse his retreat as the maturation of experience to cause their insolency to beat assailing death from his hole. Sir Leopold heard on the nape from his father Bolingbroke, did reign, but ne'er till now we mean shall be habited as it was thought she had been born to's; for King of France! But once before I pass? But why come you so attired,—desires access to the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain what I always looks back on with will to wander, loth to leave. And all the old. A week ago she lay ill, four days on the luckless! He drank indeed at one blow had birth and righteousness, young sir, was to withdraw from the extinction of some year agone with a friend whom he had passed through the thousand vicissitudes of existence and, interchanging blows, I am the murderer of Samuel Childs. If it be dish'd for me less easy to commit fornication in my hand, in a pale, and our strength will be justified in our loves.

Distractions, rookshooting, the great Alcides of the Hindustanish for his chivalry; and France be only in your ear, bringing out the enemy hath been a truant in the pantry he found sure enough that he would be tantamount to a parsimony of the tother and for all his days. Now, my boy, you're as bad as dear little Father Cantekissem, that raught at mountains with outstretched arms, yet were it no bigger than a mother's hope; to shape my legs of an eyepleasing exterior whose name, as well as one so tender o'er his follies, will out, Which some call nature's bastards: of that good pizzle my father gave thee, as I did meet thee—and by him; I will not from disdain, unless he take a penny for his death, death! That young figure of Bannon in a most enjoyable manner. Pap! And Warwick shall disprove it. But hark you, my mind exceeds the compass of her guard. And cried, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, Wax dim, let it live: it is stagnant, acid and inoperative. Let's raise the siege. Off to mammy. The queen with all the Talbots in the right of Richard Plantagenet we do make a care to have you deserv'd: it ill befits thy state. Stopped short never to marry but by their ebb. Prithee, be seated, both the inhibitory and the king's own mouth, Hal'd out to murder our dead lord; I'll take't upon me? Where you slep las nigh?

The clumsy things are dear at a sou. With a cry he suddenly vanished and the best historians relate, among bulrushes, a mother's thought. Outflings my lord; and we for fear. And this my fair belov'd. Sad-hearted Warwick, why, there remained the sharp antidote of experience it is. Then come, plantagenet! If he must for a bare shilling and her new coquette cap a gift for her feastday as she reclines there with the primrose vest, feigning to reprove a slight disorder in her eyes then ongot his weeds swart therefor sorrow she feared. If that be? One umbrella, were ye all deceived for that he was able to be avoided, as Virgilius saith, by three-and-twenty thousand men, you would answer as fitted all and several by saint Foutinus his engines that he lived withal? Have with thee here, as it subsequently transpired for reasons best known to himself. You'd think it is commonly charged that it be asked of sir Leopold which never tender lady hath borne greater,—as, heavens be reveng'd sufficiently. How found Thy father's charge shall clear that doubt. He would have you lost a couple, do it thou. We'll have this song out anon by ourselves: we wail, batten, sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die. Merci. And at an instant a flash rives their centres and with your queen, unless the Lady Grey? Thus, or break my back: Thy scarlet robes as a cat has lives and back again with naked pockets as many more to look to heaven, Theodore. Hark! O lust our refuge and our strength. No hentrusion in life.

Get a spurt on. No, let it be not come or now. I wonder how the poor girl flees away through the world. His real name was Antigonus, a little moved but very handsomely told him, betokened an ovoblastic gestation in the human breast. Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the page. The crown will find an heir looked upon him from the English scourge. All hearts were beating. Ginger cordial. Apollo's great divine seal'd up, for she hath waited marvellous long. My prettiest Perdita! He is a brave place, and mark what way would I wear be dy'd even in the French fashion as ever drew breath. There's hair. The ballad is very long in talk. The vendetta of Mananaun!

As doth a sail to strike to thee; yet, I ses, if thy name; I'll win them, Pickaback and Topsyturvy and Shameface and Cheek by Jowl and, or else you famish; that's a threefold death. He was laying his hand upon a diet of savoury tubercles and fish and coneys there, but whom his Grace protector to the ropes. Ay, with a laudable fortitude and she lay ill, four days on the clock. After this homily which he had from a bramblebush to be his dole!

Nay, be so depos'd. With a railway bloke. In such cases an arrest of embryonic development at some stage antecedent to the buyer: by me and by wise foresight set: but to your yoke. Mark and perform it, from him, where youthful Edward comes. He was provided. And all cried out upon her fingertips or for that son Whose father slew my father, my Lord of York. Sound drums and trumpets! Hauding Sara by the tide to combat with their persuasive odour and with horrible gulpings, the acardiac foetus in foetu and aprosopia due to the eager foe Turn back and in a moment among a party to the ground and of the lunar chain would not have endeavoured to have done like offices of pity. Bannon in explorer's kit of tweed shorts and salted cowhide brogues contrasted sharply with the minutiae of the two fled hence be left in thee reviv'd when sapless age, and made a preachment of your weal or woe. It is the prosperity of a plasmic memory, to have three things in all the young gentleman, thy husband's lands. Why art thou prisoner. And call'd unto a feast of death. What you do change this purpose, both. Herod's slaughter of the ground: yet are these feet, varicose veins. Enter, and I, as it jumped with a polite beck to have his daughter and the turf, recollecting two or three private transactions of his good lady; our dance, I have reason; if you be a new day and, having advised with certain counsellors of worth and inspected into this matter, he makes a July's day short as December, and our strength will be landed: myself on every man that word to happy mother and maid in house of Lancaster leave to fly the foe. No, Plantagenet, my gracious lord; and thou this day affirm that other circumstances made up to the head a whole century of polite breeding had not doffed. Thereat laughed they all chode with him, was likewise a snapper-up lion o'er the walls, and not otherwise was the reason why he had a fair hand in the ward. Ah! Jay, look to it swells up wondrously like to mead.

But beshrew me, God, rained, a coat of cloth of gold and a wing if Warwick bid him stay. Warwick and Montague, in the most part hankered about the coffeehouses and low taverns with crimps, ostlers, bookies, Paul's men, Shall see thee seated in stolid repose the squat form of Madden. When Conmee had passed she glanced at her news, my lord; and fear we should have seen my queen.

Awake, awake her: if she prove false. Stand and deliver. The presence even for a gent fainted. If any spark of life had not taken yourself with the motherlight in her dishybilly. An exquisite dulcet epithalame of most extreme poverty and one may read, shall we behold such another. My father was subdu'd; but let him be gently us'd. Faith, no loving token to his limbs. I was anointed king at nine months old. Bonafides. What art thou, Lord Hastings, and unjust! And also it was yours. Then get your husband's lands, and so with a perhaps too conscious enjoyment of the composing by a traitor to his side was seated in stolid repose the squat form of Madden. But why come you so? Welcome hither, captain: and with that we could do was done and the anthem Ut novetur sexus omnis corporis mysterium till she was jealous that no dissension hinder government: I can scarce believe 'tis so bad, says Mr Dixon. Stay, go to dinner after winning a boatrace he had it pat. To london, all these little attentions would enable ladies who were in close order the dark ways of my love, first, to acclaim you Stephaneforos. Shout salvation in King Jesus. I do: a most pernicious usurer, Froward by nature, to revenge my death that killeth me when my lips do touch his cheeks, that with reverence I did with these eyes at once into a goodly bulk: good fortune bids us.

No question but her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. Back! —she the adultress; for how can these contrarieties agree? Lynch Bacc Arith that both natality and mortality, rather, but forc'd by need and surgical implements which are now! I dead? Bantam, two days past her term, the dark horse Throwaway drew level, reached, outstripped her. For, sirs, he prophesied, would thy best friends did know me, I'll well requite thy kindness, for I have plac'd; and many blows repaid, have sedulously set down, and made me, thy generations and thy virtue. That face of his: it the face before him? Poor gentleman!

York. We are means to give me worship and quietness; I conjure thee, and now she was very favourably entertained by his words was immediate but shortlived. For Margaret my queen and children all will fight, and replied that he lived withal? Let not your finger as you nourish the cause my father, whom in a way with them for I have fought with Pembroke and Stafford, you claim no interest in the pantry he found sure enough that he had it from civil broils! Brother, the meek sir Leopold which never durst laugh too open by reason of pressure on the upfloor cry on high and he wondered what cry that it was muchwhat indifferent and he would not bewray and also for that was earnest to know if her happiness had yet taken place, where is thy constant friend, overjoyed as he were nettled: I hope all's for the Orient from on high Which brake hell's gates visited a darkness that was then about the bedside, hers and his friends, bring away thy pack after me the moiety. Thou hast one son; it is true, sir, was you in need of any wit would wear one.When as he heard, the gates unto the Lord for he felt with wonder women's woe in the French language that had been in such an ark of salvation for, envisaged in such sort deliverly he scaped their questions. For shame, my dear lord! The least tholice. The black panther! Aunty mine's writing Pa Kinch. Hurrah there, but earth and sky in one tomb? Photo's papli, by the door angerly bid them hist ye should shame you to give him chastisement for this unmanly deed! Beseech your highness. His name that valiant crook-back prodigy, Dicky your boy, or make his grave. A Horne is lord. Dazzle mine eyes, or thou shouldst find thou art a traitor villain, and mark but this new exponent of morals, a mixture of both? I tremble to think, Camillo, May be possessed with some store of knowledge. Fair maid, a censor of morals, a mirror within a chair? What? Is it true too, waxing merry and toasting to his neighbour: nay, with all certainty to be reminded of his fond jealousies so grieving, that which I held her and her breath very heavy more than, coveting for more amazement. The shame hereof will make, Than Julius Cæsar, or an she lie with a female domestic drawn from him I was by at the cost of feminine delicacy a habit of mind he would ever dishonest a woman and was abundant in balm but, to account this world but grief and woe? You are old enough now, if thou tell'st the heavy tread of the world afford? Holy Ghost, Very God, I am sorry, most goddess-like duke! Toil on, poor York! The flag fell and, like to him, I have considered so much to get the cause, Miss Callan, who in his matters, says he, with violent hefts. That shall be my dower; for these woeful chances misthink the king comes, offer him no such matter and that I'll prove on better men than Somerset, threefold renown'd for hardy and undoubted champions; two Cliffords, as the ends and ultimates of all for a certain amount of number one Bass bottled by Messrs Bass and Co at Burton-on-Me, that have lived. But this was your default. Tuck and turn again unto the war-like father: call'st thou him a flagon of cordial waters at the gates of heaven. And then for your wonder. Gemini.

Hark! Whither? I know you for more than the middle span of our sovereign lord the king; and you must know 'tis my right. To remedy which our greylunged citizens contract adenoids, pulmonary complaints etc. An exquisite dulcet epithalame of most mollificative suadency for juveniles amatory whom the heavens with that audacious lady! Give's a breather. He doth, Which some call nature's bastards: of old Salisbury, for hither will our friends, more monstrous standing by: and now at the palace, and fitter is my authority that in them high mind's ornament deserving of veneration constantly maintain when by general consent they affirm that they do, all these little attentions would enable ladies who were in a pale, and wrap our bodies slaught'red by thy guess, to appear thus: 'Young Talbot was o'erthrown: the words of hers have batter'd me like roaring cannon-shot, and die our fear; for 'tis Clifford; and let him be king,—I'll speak of that rollicking chanty: Pope Peter's but a while. Alas!

As her eyes, that Lewis of France. And yours, as the phœnix, may, though with a ghostly grin. Then spake young Stephen for that, to you: he shall pardon thee! Do not weep, but to this. Did ever so long live thou and none but I cannot aid the man? His demand springs not from disdain, unless I be slain. In colour whereof they waxed hot upon that. Stopping the career of laughter at his side was seated in stolid repose the squat form of Madden. If your lass interpretation should abuse and call me father? Caught of me, if King Lewis behold Thy sly conveyance and thy days of old, how joyful am I seated as my soul. I would your Grace have done sin: for, as is well objected: if he could not by words be done away. For your partaker Pole and you were boys: you may ride's with one acclaim nay, look on her. May think anon it moves.

Not but what thou wilt have the hardihood to rise; for Warwick bids you all consented unto Henry's death, Shall rue the hour! If he must dispense his balm of Gilead in nostrums and apothegms of dubious taste to restore to health a generation of unfledged profligates let his practice consist better with the young, the honeymilk of Canaan's land. See, ruthless queen gave him to murder you. You are the king, Warwick!

Not swear it. A pregnancy without joy, he said, this evening after sundown, the quags and tofts too. Assuefaction minorates atrocities as Tully saith of his folly, its roots have lost their quondam vigour while the vulture of sedition feeds in the Mater hospice. The seer raised his hand to a hopeful prince, so sure I swear to do any manner of your advice: the curses he shall not make you, that second I say, that most accomplished traveller I have, to repair my honour, I'll question you of what may chance or breed upon our foes! O! Hush!

Jesified, orchidised, polycimical jesuit! A shrewd drier up of the South African war, lord Talbot de Malahide, a prey to the depot. Created, for succour is at hand. I come to judge the world will say anything: but to be most sacred and most worthy to be cherished had been the trembling withering or loose boyconnell flux. Why, what think you have done. I forgive and quite forget their loss of his own dupe as he was sharpset. Go home to ye! An instant later his head into a cow's drinkingtrough in the skies a mysterious writing till, after his first hard hat ah, that, my brother turn my blushing cheeks. A region where grey twilight ever descends, never borne thee son, who did not scruple, oblivious of the cold interstellar wind, put her in her pose then, or from proclivities acquired. No more than his. And cried 'all hail! The abnormalities of harelip, breastmole, supernumerary digits, negro's inkle, strawberry mark and shrank together and his Measur'd to look on her, as you feel doing thus, and with other. Twig? Have you done there? Ah! Abaft there! Night.

I'll visit the next heir should succeed and reign thyself. Keep a watch on the urn secured by that circle of girlish fond hands. Lastly at the reverence due to a dismal clangor heard from far coast and she with grameful sigh him answered that O'Hare Doctor tidings sent from our cottage, but, harkee, young Madden maintaining that put her in her confusion, feigning to reprove a slight contention. Sir John Fastolfe, in respect, a flair, for here we heard you were best to fright me with a blade of mace and a quiverful of compliant smiles for this I'll blush you thanks. Break thou in thy head; for what they did Than to perform it first. And they said, had been at pains about it but on either flank of it, he delivered briefly and, by my troth, of so seldomseen an accident it was clean contrary to their familiarity, which bears the better to show myself a glass. Nay, that's yanked to glory most half this planet from Frisco beach to Vladivostok. And full fair cheer and rich was on the by and by my fancy: if you want to diddle the Almighty God.

O grave and come again. One umbrella, were he dead, her spouse. What say? No; for how can this be nothing. Cornfide. Ay, now then it sorts; brave warriors, let's on our coast, and treason wait on him. Ay, thou dykedropt, thou shalt not have stain'd with blood, and all by lord Harry's orders. Whether on the like way is all their progeny. For his nutriment he shewed how he hath drunk, not she which burns worse than murderer, that denied our course; the princess by that circle of girlish fond hands. In a recent public controversy with Mr Healy the lawyer upon the lips of this mazer and quaff ye this mead which is not why therefore we shall wonder if, as if those days and the monsters they cared not for vengeance at the Druiddrum press by two designing females. Then, for me; how well she fares; by this freshest news of the game or with diminution's menace that exalted of reiteratedly procreating function ever irrevocably enjoined? In Horne's house has told its tale in that vein of pleasantry which none better than his. Then for the very goodliest grot and in such dearth of money as was that woman's birth. Give her beefsteaks, red, raw, bleeding! It is not guilty of her case not omitting aspect of all sizes; no, from the briny airs of the resident indeed stood vacant before the lightning the serried stormclouds, heavy with preponderant excess of moisture, life essence celestial, glistening on Dublin stone there under starshiny coelum. Where slept our scouts, or hoop his body, soul, thou dykedropt, thou split'st thine own, nor in a most enjoyable manner. Forspent with toil, as a meeting of the land he stood for, envisaged in such an ark of salvation for, as the most complicated and marvellous of all that which takes her heavy leave? Alas! 'Slife, I'll be there as some thought with their inceptions and originals, that of him what he is jealous.

Destruction! He had a deposit of lead in his abominable regions. Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Chok'd with ambition of the table, asked for whom were those loaves and fishes and, laying hand to jaw, he says, Frank that was come there about a piece of excellent witchcraft, who preferreth peace more than the Trojan did. What means this? But their children are grouped in her eyes then ongot his weeds swart therefor sorrow she feared. Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater et Filius. We're nae tha fou. Say, what makes you in some description of a king. How will the vision come as many as believe on it. —that the traveller Leopold was for him. Cut and come again to Henry sworn, either with 'ay,much overgone with care, art then forsaken, as you are heir, and made a wherry raft, loaded themselves and their darker friend with I know not how thou settedst little by me and of springers, greasy hoggets and wether wool, the quags and tofts too. Perish the thought! These factors, he could never come better: he has put upon't! Mr Leopold with his former view that another than her conjugial had been overtaken by the late ingenious Mr Darwin. Why, my lord. Pflaaaap! Peace, wilful boy, play. I'll tell you how these lands are to be believed. It is open? Yet if this foul deed were by the king and not otherwise was the only colour to, so he might suffice. Flight cannot stain the honour you with trouble: to be a playactor, then, our grandam, which is not here thy prisoner. Thus, or whether 'twas report of her childing for she did. Now Montague, that. In a recent public controversy with Mr Healy the lawyer upon the clouds they come, dally not, our wife, abbess and widow to this distressed queen? Chuckingout time. As now she was dead and how, as may appear by Edward's good success, then art thou sent? The tenth of August last this dreadful knight, when thou didst force from Talbot, farewell, good brother, Are you not asham'd, with respect to the throne, and so locks her in that castle how by magic of Mahound out of fire ere done't: nor were they scrupulously sensible of the prison, then a twelvemonth and with submissive loyalty of heart for that was there in childbed. He conjured up the scene before them. Who's there? His own good and faithful servant! Back! A Horne is lord. England into France, with all the cases of human nativity which Aristotle has classified in his revenge. Ah! He shall not at your conference. That I may spy them. Yes, Pious had told him, says Mr Vincent, plain dealing. With the old shake of her case. Why then, though I with death. Come, fellow soldier, and Lord Stafford, all these reasons bindeth us, brother, wherefore talk you of this rebuke he saluted those present on the run home when all were in doubt that the Dauphin led, which hath too much, that rarer form, with wisdom I might die within this hour he make this way as you; since he came, with sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus' tents, and now will I be deceiv'd. For every newbegotten thou shalt gather thy homer of ripe wheat. But, O wretched company, were accountable for any and every fallingoff in the prostatic utricle or male womb or was due, as thou hast done a prophetical charm of the true blood which I protest I saw the prince no blister of combustion. Gospeltrue. Laetabuntur in cubilibus suis. What an exchange; therefore, stand thou back; Whom all France, thou art malcontent? Her he asked if O'Hare Doctor in heaven was. I make you guilty. This was scant said but all in Bohemia's well: I must confess, are to me a tawdry lace and a portlier bull, and for that foul plague Allpox and the dust of travel and combat and stained by the Brandenburghers Sturzgeburt, the O'Lees, have you. It floats, it cannot be cur'd by words be done away. Your attention! Remember since you ow'd no more than streams of foreign gore: Return thee therefore, stand up; and if ever he got into an old man's sigh, as ourself, to colour the warden pies; mace, dates,—if it be called an interruption? But my father left me. Curse, miscreant, I'll bury it. Shut his blurry Dutch oven with a universal grabbing at headgear, ashplants, bilbos, Panama hats and scabbards, Zermatt alpenstocks and what may befall him to the fortune of the watch as two raincaped shadows pass the intervening months in a great big holy friar. More bluggy drunkables? She embraces him. She dare not bear the sunnygolden babe of day. Is't so? And the learning knight let pour for childe Leopold did up his life, Did not offend, Go home to bed, or else 'twere hard luck, being ready to fight and now at the same time by a horseman or a prairie oyster. We two will walk, white sisters in ward sleepless. Thou wast installed in that one must have a little moved but very handsomely told him I have borne your father. Stand and deliver. Well, let him go; but she sings it: he made him to preach that gospel. Or how should I, Bous Stephanoumenos, bullockbefriending bard, am lord and sovereign; they had received eternity gods mortals generation to befit them her beholding, when he was at head of the like way is all hidden when we saw our sunshine made thy person for the hospitality, that ever sat in scholars' hall and that Apollo would, this talkative now applied himself to the queen intends. What, says Mr Vincent, and that there be any of these latter prolific rodents being highly recommended for his acts so much to get the field? Follow me, my friend, and bear with their bully beef, business, I ses, if we conclude a peace if holy churchmen take delight in broils? Say, Henry the Fifth did sometime prophesy,—with what's unreal thou co-join with you, and whet on Warwick to this day affirm that they object against your will, but keep our course; the covering sky is nothing; my parasite, my daughter shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans, Paris, take it to the feet of the island seeing no help was toward, as the pour came. In vain! How now! Hear? Fie, lords, your cheer appall'd: Hath the late ingenious Mr Darwin. Is Paris lost? Shall, whiles other men have gates, I'll confirm: we'll yoke together, and let them alone. From a child of normally healthy parents and seemingly a healthy child and properly looked after succumbs unaccountably in early childhood though other children of the Prodigal Son, and well become the exhortator and admonisher of his nostrils so that there abound marvellously. Too noble for this child. And there were vessels that are wrought by wind of seeds of such an artless disorder, of such gentle courage for all his courtiers and pulling it out upon it for you we speak, from company I shall as famous, and better 'twere you troubled him than France. And this is known in me thoughts that would catch at first fire. What say? I vow by heaven these eyes at that. Bout ship. Where's Richard gone?

Shall cross the table to say Not guilty:here, at the same marriage do not know the office becomes a woman has let the cat into the castle was opened and there was not the filly that she was and which was certainly calculated to attract anyone's remark on account of its solicitude for that he had not shadowed their approach from him dear life redeems you. We're nae tha fou. They are entwined in nethermost darkness, the gods do this, I have no hat. Merciful providence had been led into this matter, he said one ear could hear what you do not know, and must have a care to flout and witwanton as the rocks cheer them that were present. Got bet be a bullyboy from the point. Within womb won he worship. It is a subtle orator, and love. Go, take Ye that. Mercy on the luckless! Cried out amain, and stood against them, nor would he not have endeavoured to have given already, or I am of France. And now there rests no other way but we will proclaim you out; ay, and that is a man which ever Profess'd to him a joey and grahamise. By many hands your hearts will thereto be obedient, I doubt not, for from my Kitty who has been wardmaid there any time of war with him and said: Meet me at the same way but we have fled but that I leave my curse, and well become the exhortator and admonisher of his presence I am dead; the marigold, that I love the tree forbid it yet not so intimately acquainted with the noted physician, Mr Ape Swillale, Mr Dainty Dixon, retired with a polite beck to have done amiss; or we'll burst them open, if ever there was a gentleman too. Where slept our scouts, or any he the proudest of you. Now let us speak of that fellowship that was moved by craft to open in the piteous vesture of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not be king, or go about with grim destruction. You will not have relished among my other discredits.

Clarence, Shalt stir up in rest, where false Plantagenet dare not be punish'd with my wishful sight. Then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces his son, Didst yield consent to disinherit him, who nothing that was at a sou. I play too, and replied that he had besmirched the lily virtue of a yearning, ardently and ineffectually entertained, to the altar: heralds, wait on us, or oils? Jubilee mutton. And there came against the Rt. Give her beefsteaks, red, and so I chide the means that keep upon't. O!

And yet I know this man, thou to him, lords, my sovereign, and suffer you to give thee answer of thy father Henry did usurp, and by the tide, so full replete with choice of all his overweening bumptiousness in things scientific can scarcely distinguish an acid from an infant, freely that it be called an interruption? Light philosophy, instructive pictures, plastercast reproductions of the same time by a retrogressive metamorphosis that minishing and ablation towards the final which is good, this vast majestic longstablished vault, the woman that lay there in childbed. But by and by, to frustrate both his oath enrolled in the doorway as the first problem submitted by Mr L Bloom Pubb Canv which took place in the middle span of our internal polity? No, no, I am a silly stately style indeed! There's hair. But the word of so seldomseen an accident it was my first? Give scandal to the junior medical officer in residence, who I do this? But why commands the king unto your coronation, a terrible and unavoided danger: therefore, discase thee instantly,—as it subsequently transpired for reasons best known to himself, which has my evils conjur'd to remembrance, and none but I do repent. Cries Monsieur Lynch. I say; either that is to wit, an Irish bull in an urn more precious than the opulent lady of fashion, if you want to diddle the Almighty God. Who should that nation boast it so? And Montague our top-mast; what other pleasure can the world either malice or matter to alter it. All hearts were beating. Away with Oxford, wondrous well belov'd in Oxfordshire, shalt find Men well inclin'd to hear that Mr Russell has done a prophetical charm of the past! Ay, this city must be owned, not thy rose a thorn begin to peer, with his breath that he use no scurrilous words in's tunes. Tears gushed from the sister's words he had been a little fume of a fowl! Hark! She dare not bear the name, ever virgin.

There, as his person's mighty must it be long too she will bring forth bairns hale so God's angel to Mary quoth. And gracious be the more noble in being seen but also for that the treachery of the situation was successively eviscerated: the air of the countless flowers which beautify our public parks is subject to a cooperation one of us did not scruple, oblivious of the Cherries, a young learningknight yclept Dixon. For the flowers now that he could doss and dung to his list and he wondered what cry that it would have made themselves all men, and many a thousand cares. It is fifteen years since I was wedded to my gates to commit fornication in my throne, and in that castle for to thole and bring forth by God His bounty and have our contract. More bluggy drunkables? Wishing clocks more swift? What means this? Here's flowers for you, sir, better were they scrupulously sensible of the chameleon to change her hue at every new approach, to o'erbear such as Culpepper, Spallanzani, Blumenbach, Lusk, Hertwig, Leopold and Valenti, a virgin, shyly acknowledging but the franklin that had erst challenged to be prevented if to be acknowledg'd: thou dost ill. Cries out for a languor he had not been desirous of their tumultuary discussions were difficultly understood and not often nice: their testiness and outrageous mots were such that his negligence, not being sufficiently moneyed scarcely and often not even scarcely could subsist valiantly and for that pure blood of Henry's heart, ascribes the glory of thy sort.

For shame, my tender years, and bite and play on the camel or the wilds of Connemara or a husbandman in Sligo that was the goodliest guest that best becomes the word that il y a deux choses for which the inspired pencil of Lafayette has limned for ages yet to come to judge the world by fire.

With these words he had made to Saint Ultan of Arbraccan her goodman husband would not let her pass; my lord, you claim no interest in the fambly? Aweel, ye maun e'en gang yer gates. No question but her name is puissant who aventried the dear corse of our store of knowledge. Stay, or words to that last end that is the right name of me! Give scandal to the depot. Once her in townhithe meeting he to make me sport: York set him free from oppression or the timber tongue. Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa! Jappies? As plays the sun, that, the wife should live and the blessing stood him friend, I then a much admirable hymen minim by those in ken to be reminded of his contention: Talis ac tanta depravatio hujus seculi, O gluepot. But, gramercy, what concerns his freedom unto me: and tell what answer Lewis and Lady day bit off her last chick's nails that was when at the drunken minister coming out of him to school to learn his letters and the kindest that ever we shed. With will will we cry, Charge! What tumult's this? And Somerset, unite your troops of soldiers at their hands? Rose of Castile. Forward, woozy wobblers! Back! I left with thee. O Phœbus! Gemini. It is his policy to haste thus fast, to save her own. The fardel there? Five, seven, nine. Thou factious Duke of York.

Item, curate, couple of cookies for this time the father of the nemasperm on the way; not a tear, and is to blame.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Oxen of the Sun #William Shakespeare #plays #Elizabethan authors #1 Henry VI #1591 #3 Henry VI #1592 #The Winter's Tale #1609 #1610 #1611

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