#Hoof and Wing Language

[milf-harrington]

i took this in a different direction than the original post, but this was still very much inspired by something @hotluncheddie posted - like, i pretty much just read "eddie as the roll under the bridge" and then smashed this out in a day lmao

---

There was a bridge, hidden deep in the woods. 

Long forgotten, it was steadily reclaimed by nature, the stone structure wrapped in lush ivy and vibrant moss. A variety of mushrooms squeezed between the gaps, some flattened and wide like dinner plates, others small and bulbous like the kind the kids brought home for dinner. 

Beams of sunlight slanted through the trees and left dappled patterns over the worn stone, butterflies fluttering between the wildflowers and ferns growing in the long dried up riverbed beneath it. 

It was picturesque. Beautiful. But there was something eerie about it all. 

Steve had slowed Bee to a stop as soon as the bridge appeared before them, eyeing the decrepit structure warily, and she stamped a hoof, impatient. He leaned forward in the saddle to pat her neck, not able to pull his eyes away from the bridge as he sat back and swung a leg over to dismount. 

His boots met soft soil and spongy grass, rotted leaf litter crunching wetly as he walked carefully forward. He felt the ground shift to something firmer when the earth gave way to stone, a warm breeze whispering through the ferns. 

Steve made it about a third of the way across before a loud scraping noise cut through the midafternoon peace, and a dark shape crawled over the low wall. Thick claws left deep scores in the sun-bleached stone and large bat-like wings flapped to keep balance, sending leaves and loose rubble scattering.

Steve scowled, running a hand through his hair to push it back out of his face before dropping it to his hip, the other resting over the hilt of his sword. 

The creature before him was tall and grey-skinned, with a thick tail and pointed ears that poked out from long, tangled hair. It sat half-crouched, forearms draped lazily over its knees and wings only barely tucked away behind its back, head tilted in something that might have been curiosity or teasing. Short tusk-like teeth poked from its bottom lip, and if it weren’t for the clothing and the subtle movements of its body language, Steve might have mistaken the creature for a statue. 

“Greetings traveller,” the bridge troll spoke, eyes and voice warm with an odd amount of cheer. His voice was deep and somewhat pleasant, with a musical lilt like every word was a performance. Steve shifted his weight onto one hip and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Good afternoon.”

“You are aware, I assume, that a toll must be paid?”

“I’ve heard the stories, yes.” Steve inclined his head, before lifting his chin proudly. “What payment do you ask for?”

The troll grinned, tail sweeping forward to curl around his own ankles as he toyed with his fingers. “It’s simple enough,” He promised. “All I ask for…”

The creature leaned forward, tangled hair falling over his shoulder as he dropped a hand down between his knees to keep balance. “Is a kiss.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, judging. “Just to cross this old lump of rocks?”

Eddie dropped back onto his heels before shooting to his feet, rolling his eyes with such an incredible amount of flair, that Steve was genuinely amazed he didn’t accidentally throw himself off the bridge in the process. “You make this so hard, every time.” He complained, wiping his hands on his pants. 

Steve grinned, tilting his head to make it obvious he was staring at the crotch of Eddie’s trousers, biting his lip before flitting his eyes up to meet Eddie’s. “Do I?”

A wing hit him in the chest, shoving him back half a step, and he laughed as he ducked underneath it, smile softening into something warm and sweet at the sight of his lover's grumpy face. “Come on, I thought I had to pay a toll.”

Eddie’s ears perked up, an adorable gesture that he vehemently denied existed, tail sweeping a wave of debris over the side of the bridge as he stepped forward into Steve’s space. Steve brushed a thumb over the point of one of his little tusks, snorting when Eddie pretended to bite him, before cupping his face properly and tugging him forward. 

Kissing Eddie always felt like coming home, because it meant he had. A short distance from the bridge they were standing on, was a house and family that they’d built together. The very thing Eddie defended with his whole bridge troll schtick. 

When they parted, Eddie’s eyes and ears had drooped right down in contentment, a pleased purr rumbling in his throat. There were bits of leaf and cobwebs in his hair, and Steve tugged on a frizzy curl. “Have you been sleeping under there?”

Eddie leaned forward to nose at Steve’s jaw, wings shifting sheepishly as his tail came up to curl around the back of his knees. “No,” he lied.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #monster eddie munson #i wanted to draw something but i dont habe my art stuff so i wrote it instead #steddie ficlet #my writing

[o-craven-canto]

  Evolution Langdon Smith (1858-1908)

When you were a tadpole and I was a fish   In the Paleozoic time, And side by side on the ebbing tide   We sprawled through the ooze and slime, Or skittered with many a caudal flip   Through the depths of the Cambrian fen, My heart was rife with the joy of life,   For I loved you even then. Mindless we lived and mindless we loved   And mindless at last we died; And deep in the rift of the Caradoc drift   We slumbered side by side. The world turned on in the lathe of time,   The hot lands heaved amain, Till we caught our breath from the womb of death   And crept into life again. We were amphibians, scaled and tailed,   And drab as a dead man's hand; We coiled at ease 'neath the dripping trees   Or trailed through the mud and sand. Croaking and blind, with our three-clawed feet   Writing a language dumb, With never a spark in the empty dark   To hint at a life to come. Yet happy we lived and happy we loved,   And happy we died once more; Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold   Of a Neocomian shore. The eons came and the eons fled   And the sleep that wrapped us fast Was riven away in a newer day   And the night of death was passed. Then light and swift through the jungle trees   We swung in our airy flights, Or breathed in the balms of the fronded palms   In the hush of the moonless nights; And oh! what beautiful years were there   When our hearts clung each to each; When life was filled and our senses thrilled   In the first faint dawn of speech. Thus life by life and love by love   We passed through the cycles strange, And breath by breath and death by death   We followed the chain of change. Till there came a time in the law of life   When over the nursing sod The shadows broke and the soul awoke   In a strange, dim dream of God. I was thewed like an Auroch bull   And tusked like the great cave bear; And you, my sweet, from head to feet   Were gowned in your glorious hair. Deep in the gloom of a fireless cave,   When the night fell o'er the plain And the moon hung red o'er the river bed   We mumbled the bones of the slain. I flaked a flint to a cutting edge   And shaped it with brutish craft; I broke a shank from the woodland lank   And fitted it, head and haft; Than I hid me close to the reedy tarn,   Where the mammoth came to drink; Through the brawn and bone I drove the stone   And slew him upon the brink. Loud I howled through the moonlit wastes,   Loud answered our kith and kin; From west to east to the crimson feast   The clan came tramping in. O'er joint and gristle and padded hoof   We fought and clawed and tore, And cheek by jowl with many a growl   We talked the marvel o'er. I carved that fight on a reindeer bone   With rude and hairy hand; I pictured his fall on the cavern wall   That men might understand. For we lived by blood and the right of might   Ere human laws were drawn, And the age of sin did not begin   Til our brutal tusks were gone. And that was a million years ago   In a time that no man knows; Yet here tonight in the mellow light   We sit at Delmonico's. Your eyes are deep as the Devon springs,   Your hair is dark as jet, Your years are few, your life is new,   Your soul untried, and yet -- Our trail is on the Kimmeridge clay   And the scarp of the Purbeck flags; We have left our bones in the Bagshot stones   And deep in the Coralline crags; Our love is old, our lives are old,   And death shall come amain; Should it come today, what man may say   We shall not live again? God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds   And furnish’d them wings to fly; He sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn,   And I know that it shall not die, Though cities have sprung above the graves   Where the crook-bone men made war And the ox-wain creaks o'er the buried caves   Where the mummied mammoths are. Then as we linger at luncheon here   O'er many a dainty dish, Let us drink anew to the time when you   Were a tadpole and I was a fish.

#poetry #quotes #evolution #prehistory #stuff I like

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

I want to get multiple chapters done before I start actually refining and posting but because we've been talking about it for so long here's the rough WIP for the first chapter of Kokichi's Ultimate Horse Phase

It began like all good stories did; waking up in a dumpster. While Kokichi was no stranger to waking up in really weird places, this one was a bit different from usual. For one, this dumpster actually smelled rather nice compared to other dumpsters he woke up in before, and also he couldn’t feel his hands, or his feet.

Also he was pretty sure he was supposed to be dead. All splotch under a press! Maybe he was a ghost and that’s why he couldn’t feel his fingers? Jerking his head, something metal slammed against the side of his head and solidly confirmed he was corporeal, and also that he had a headache now.

Snorting, he grunted as he tried to rub his head. Though as what should have been his hand brushed his hair. He noticed a few things, like a new lack of fingers, something protruding from his head and the fact this was almost certainly a poll, not a scalp. Rubbing his hand across what appeared to be a short mane that curled like his normal hair, Kokichi could also feel the frog of a hoof gliding across what felt like fur. Yup he definitely was a horse.

It took a moment to sink in, but then Kokichi practically leaped out of the dumpster with new gusto, shoving the top bit open as he landed on wobbly four legs, trusting his new body to at least know how to stand. Leaping out into the moonlight, Kokichi could finally see things again. Putting a hoof in front of his face and as such also falling down, Kokichi confirmed his coloration seemed to be dark purple and white with a slight purple tint. Though knowing horse patterns that could mean absolutely nothing about the rest of his new body. Huffing, Kokichi began to prod his new body, quickly discovering wings along with the previous thing that seemed to be a curving horn. A mix of a unicorn and Pegasus it seemed, definitely a rare combo.  After a few stumbles to get up, Kokichi measured himself against the dumpster, frowning as he came up rather shorter. Seemed he was a rather small horse as well, just his luck that he came out more pony-like. 

Walking forward, instincts of the streets in his youth led his shaky gait through the shadows of the alley, practically melting into the darkness despite his colorations. Soon he reached the end of the alley and peered ahead, silently in awe of the sight. He could see a few other horses trotting around. Some had wings, some had horns, some even had neither, though none had both horns and wings. Kokichi was willing to brush it off on just a stupidly low sample size, but still he didn’t move. He had no clue where he is or what the fuck was going on. He was supposed to be dead anyways, and he had no clue why he was here in Barbie’s Horse Adventure instead.

So he stayed in the shadows, watching, grateful for the full moon for helping him better see the area.

Eventually his eyes landed on a poster, finally he had found a horse like him, a white horse with wings and a horn, though it was a boring horn with no curves. However what concerned Kokichi was the fact they seemed to be wearing a crown. Just a coincidence? Or a caste system? Kokichi couldn’t tell, but either way he trotted back to the dumpster, determined that none would find out he might be part of the ruling class. The attention would be awful this early on.

After what felt like hours of rummaging and the horrible attempts at trying to make things without fingers, Kokichi slipped a fake horn over his real horn, the fake looking white and clearly made of some weird material guaranteed that everyone would see it then dismiss it as a lie or delusion. The perfect disguise.

Still, while he had a start, he still had no idea what the fuck was going on or social cues or anything. The poster had scribbles on it, so if it was a language he clearly did not know it. Kokichi knew a lot of languages, but it certainly was never one he had ever heard of before. Horse language he guessed, he just hoped he would at least have some idea what anyone would be saying when he started eavesdropping. For now though, he had to stick to the shadows, observe, learn.

Of course his mix of white in his fur would make that difficult, but it wasn't like he was inexperienced hiding in the shadows while wearing blinding white, he could cope. First order of business though, figuring out currency. While he has stolen before, and would steal again, having money was just more convenient for the most part. Normally he’d steal a hat and get to work doing some kind of entertainment for cash. However, he wasn’t sure what he could use to busk here. He didn’t know if he spoke the language, even making his shoddy horn covering had taken at least an hour. So he couldn’t tell jokes, and he couldn’t do crafts. So the most legal busking he could do was out. Luckily, there were plenty of more questionable ways to collect cash

Pulling out three cups from the dumpster and picking up a pretty enough looking pebble. He figured he might as well test the waters with a good old fashion shell game. Not as fun as three-card monte admittedly, but still pretty fun! He’d need something to lure a person in though since he had nothing for them to win. So he pulled out a bag that seemed clean, put some trash in it, and with much effort involving his teeth, tied it taut with a knot. There, a mystery prize of garbage was obtained. Hopefully intrigue could hook someone.

Trotting through alleyways to a less clean part of town, but not dirty enough to be unappealing to idiots, Kokichi sat down on a piece of what seemed to be cardboard, and he waited. 

#alicorn kichi au #ndrv3 #musings from the music manager #kokichi ouma

[paperanddice]

A buraq is a minor celestial being that visits the worthy to provide guidance, advice, and very rarely as a steed. Each one takes the form of a human-faced, winged equine smaller than a mule but larger than a donkey, but has its own unique coat color, facial features, often with whites, silvers, and golds included. Additionally, each has a gilded band it wears around its head or neck, but none has ever revealed where the bands came from.

The buraq's ultimate role is as a courier and steed, but only to the most virtuous of characters. In a most dire circumstance, where a great deal of distance must be covered and teleportation magic is unavailable, a holy person may petition a buraq to bring them on a Night Journey, a mystical trip that allows the buraq and its rider to travel incredibly far, then return to the start of their journey.

Inspired by the Tome of Beasts 1. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Pathfinder 2e

This stat block is partially built off of early readings for the Remastered version of Pathfinder 2e. While a few elements were simple (excluding alignment), elements such as the use of the holy and unholy traits, as well as spirit damage are a bit more guesses than thorough readings. Unfortunately, as far as I've been able to read there haven't been any proper celestials or fiends statted out for the Remaster yet, so I may be off on how some of these traits will work, but given the intention of the Remaster is that monsters should be easily converted between, any errors here should hopefully slide thorugh with easy fixes.

Buraq Creature 11 Medium Celestial Holy Perception +24; darkvision Languages Celestial, Common, Draconic, telepathy 100 feet Skills Acrobatics +21, Athletics +19, Diplomacy +21, Medicine +24, Religion +24, Society +21 Str +2, Dex +4, Con +5, Int +4, Wis +5, Cha +4 Strong Back The buraq can serve as a mount to Medium humanoids. AC 31; Fort +22, Ref +19, Will +24; +1 status to all saves vs. magic HP 193; Immunities fatigued, frightened; Weaknesses unholy 10 Speed 50 feet, fly 90 feet Melee hoof +21 (finesse, holy, magical), Damage 2d10+8 bludgeoning plus 1d6 spirit Divine Innate Spells DC 30 ; 7th plane shift; 4th comprehend language (at will), pass without trace (at will); 3rd haste (×3); 2nd longstrider (×3); Constant (6th) true seeing Fold the Earth [three actions] (divine, teleportation); Frequency once per day; Effect the buraq can teleport itself and its rider to a location it can see (usually as far as the horizon, or approximately 200 miles). Night Journey 10 minutes Frequency once per month; Requirement it is night and the buraq is outdoors; Effect for the next 24 hours the buraq can use Fold the Earth at will, so long as its destination is in an area of nonmagical darkness. It can also use Fold the Earth to return itself and its rider to the location where it first declared the Night Journey, ending the journey.

13th Age

The buraq's Night Journey is better suited as a story element, such as a use of a player's Icon benefit, or a powerful ritual. Given the intended rarity and gravity of such an event, it should be limited to a one time event, unrepeatable except perhaps in the most extreme of circumstances.

Buraq  6th level mount [celestial]  Initiative: +10 Hooves +10 vs. AC (2 attacks) - 5 damage plus 5 holy damage. Flight. Fold the Earth: 1/battle, as a standard action, the buraq can teleport itself and its rider to any spot it can see. Haste: 1/battle, as a standard action, the buraq can grant a nearby ally an extra standard action on its next turn. If the target was the buraq’s rider, it can sustain this effect as a quick action on each of its turns, granting an additional standard action during its rider’s next turn each time it sustains it. Mount: The buraq can have a medium or smaller creature as a rider. Each round the buraq can choose to act on its own turn or its rider’s turn. Resist Holy 16+. AC 21 PD 19 MD 19 HP 84

#pathfinder 2e #13th age #homebrew #my homebrew #monster #celestial #pathfinder level 11 #13th age level 6 #long post #tome of beasts

[thecreaturecodex]

Arkan Sonney

Image © Traci Shepherd, accessed at Arcane Beasts and Critters here

[A Manx fairy creature, the arkan sonney was originally described as a white pig, but the name is used to refer to hedgehogs in the modern day, which is cute. It’s said to be good luck to see one, namely that you’ll always have a silver coin on hand if you do, which inspired their boon, bane and general connection to silver in the flavor text. I could see a 1st level module centered around finding one of these guys and convincing it to help the party fight a werewolf plaguing the community.]

Arkan Sonney CR ½ NG Fey This tiny creature appears to be a white hedgehog with butterfly wings and tiny hoofed digits. It flitters about playfully, its spines glinting with silver.

An arkan sonney is a benevolent fey creature with aspects of hedgehogs and pigs. They live in hedgerows and hills, and feed primarily on poisonous plants and venomous animals. A lack of toads, vipers and spiders may be the only sign of an arkan sonney’s presence, as they are shy of humans and try to remain hidden. They may allow themselves to be sought out by children or kind souls, and play games with them such as hide-and-seek.

The reason an arkan sonney is so nervous around humans has much to do with its ties to silver. Silver infuses their quills and drips from their saliva, and killing and burning an arkan sonney will yield fully half of its weight in silver. Most arkan sonneys are between ten and twenty pounds as an adult. This is something of killing a golden goose, however, as an arkan sonney can silver weapons while alive (useful for fighting lycanthropes and devils) and give a blessing of silver to those it favors.

Arkan Sonney Boons and Banes (CL 2nd, DC 12) An arkan sonney is a kind soul, and may reward a child or someone in poverty with a blessing of endless silver, on the condition that they keep it a secret and do good deeds. If someone tries to force them to give this blessing, they give their bane instead. Boon: You gain a single silver piece every day. This silver piece appears in a shoe, pocket, purse, or other item kept on your possession or nearby every midnight. This boon is permanent, unless the creature gains an evil alignment, in which case it ceases. Bane: One gold coin in your possession turns into a silver piece every day. This coin must be in your pocket, purse, or otherwise in your direct possession or immediate belongings, and the transformation occurs at midnight. This bane is permanent until removed.

Arkan Sonney    CR ½ XP 200 NG Tiny fey Init +1; Senses low-light vision, Perception +4 Defense AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 13 (+2 size, +1 Dex, +1 natural) hp 7 (2d6) Fort +0, Ref +4, Will +3 DR 2/cold iron; Immune poison Defensive Abilities prickly Offense Speed 20 ft., fly 40 ft. (good) Melee bite +1 (1d2-4) Space 1 ft.; Reach 0 ft. Special Attacks silver coating Spell-like Abilities CL 2nd, concentration +3 3/day—dancing lights, daze (DC 11), detect poison 1/day—faerie fire, magic missile, vanish Statistics Str 3, Dex 13, Con 10, Int 11, Wis 10, Cha 12 Base Atk +1; CMB +0; CMD 6 (10 vs. trip) Feats Stealthy Skills Acrobatics +5 (-1 when jumping), Bluff +6, Diplomacy +6, Escape Artist +8, Fly +13, Knowledge (nature) +5, Perception +4, Stealth +15 Languages Common, Sylvan Ecology Environment cold and temperate hills Organization solitary, pair or array (3-6) Treasure special (see above) Special Abilities Prickles (Ex) A creature attempting to grapple, or successfully grappling, an arkan sonney takes 1 point of piercing damage a round. Silver Coating (Su) An arkan sonney’s natural weapons, including its prickles, overcome damage reduction as if they were silver, and deal an extra 1d6 points of damage to creatures with DR/silver. Three times a day as a standard action, an arkan sonney may touch a single melee weapon or twenty pieces of ammunition and allow them to overcome DR/silver for 1 hour.

#arkan sonney #manx folklore #fey #hedgehog #cute #pathfinder 1e #world tour

[pinkiepiebones]

Prompt: Rain's little froggie gets a new friend!

Ghouls do not express themselves like humans do. They do not have mouths, so they can't smile or frown. They do not embrace one another. There are no animal behaviours in them, either- no head butts, no tail wags, no purring. They are regarded by most as stoic entities, as hoofed, mouthless gargoyles given profane animation by Him Below.

But those who have been in consistent ghoulish proximity take note of things. Ghouls tend to cluster in groups of a dozen or so, usually all of the same element, but not always. They have their own body language- a rustling of folded feathery wings against their scaly backs is equitable to laughter. A gaggle, or a flock, or a murder, or a cloister of ghouls (no one is sure what to call a grouping of them) that is standing silently on the ceiling and then seems to break out in vigorous wing shaking, well, they're having a grand time. Aggression is expressed by open wings being raised up, as though the ghoul is attempting to appear taller. Sorrow comes in the clutching of horns.

Joy is another matter all together.

A ghoul's joy is a rare site, but not impossible to witness or feel. Copia knows this. He grew up in the church. He's dating a ghoul. He's seen his band ghouls explode in joy on stage, and though the intricate lighting system and costumes are used to purposefully obfuscate their ghoulishness, Copia knows very well what it looks like for each element. A fire ghoul's skin seems to crack and a deep golden red glow seems to emanate from the cracks, as though the creature's body became embers. They also radiate a very comfortable warmth. Air ghouls fluff up like baby birds and spark with lightning. Earth ghouls blossom all over with little pink flowers not of this world. Aether ghouls look like they just rolled in purple glitter.

Copia finds one of the band ghouls, the one the fans call "Rain," out on the church grounds. Rain is on it's belly in the mud at the edge of the haunted lake, staring at a frog.

Copia smiles. Rain had taken a shine to this particular frog a while ago, going so far as to drag Copia out in the rain early one morning just to introduce him to the tiny amphibian. //KERMIT,// Rain had said telepathically, pointing at the frog as enthusiastically as a ghoul could.

"Hey, you two," Copia says gently so as not to startle either of them. He steps gingerly into the mud; he made sure to throw on some shoes and clothes that he wouldn't mind getting dirty before he travelled outside. He is also carrying a strange plastic box. "How is it going out here? Everyone, uh, good?"

Rain nods a little, not taking it's inkwell eyes off the frog, who croaks. //I HAVE BEEN TELLING KERMIT OF THE UPCOMING TOUR. I AM FEELING HAPPY TO TOUR BUT UNHAPPY TO LEAVE MY FRIEND. HE IS UNHAPPY FOR ME TO LEAVE. BUT I WOULD NOT WANT TO BRING KERMIT ON THE TOUR. I DO NOT THINK A FROG WOULD ENJOY THE TOUR BUS.//

Copia nods. "That's very true, Rain. I don't bring my rats for the same reason. Nothing on the bus for leetle animals to enjoy."

Rain sits up and wipes some of the mud off it's chest. //BUT YOUR RATS HAVE FRIENDS HERE, SO WHEN YOU LEAVE, THEY ARE PERHAPS NOT SO LONELY.// Rain looks up at Copia. //KERMIT IS ALONE. HE TOLD ME.//

The Papa makes a mental note to ask the ghoul called Special about animal-to-ghoul communication and squats down beside the ghoul. "Well, I actually brought something out to show you, I think it might help..." He opens the strange box and tips it for Rain to see inside.

A small spotted frog looks up into the ghoul's eyes.

"Someone found this fella in the poisonous plants garden on the other side of the church's land, and I thought, hey, Rain likes frogs, maybe it would like to meet this one."

Rain reaches into the box with an almost timid gentleness and brings the spotted frog out. It holds the frog close to it's unblinking eyes, perhaps assessing. Then, gingerly, it lowers it's talon. The little frog hops off the ghoul's hand and into the mud in front of Kermit. The two frogs stare at each other, then the spotted one hops, landing on Kermit's head.

Rain looks from it's frogs to Copia. The ghoul's skin shimmers with waves of blue and white, like sunlight on the lake's surface, but more serene. It's hair-like feathers raise and waft as though it is underwater. The smell of saltwater winds fills Copia's senses.

Water ghoul joy.

//NOW KERMIT WILL NOT BE LONELY WHEN WE LEAVE FOR THE TOUR, AND MY UNHAPPINESS HAS EBBED.// The ghoul puts a muddy hand on Copia's shoulder. //THANK YOU SO MUCH, PAPA. KERMIT THANKS YOU AS WELL.//

Copia smiles at the ghoul still rippling with joy. "No problem."

#ghost bc #microfic #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul

[ohheyitsyouagain]

HAPPY NEW YEAR DAMIAN!!! 3, 4, 14 and 18 for the ask meme :]

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

oh man, that's a hard one. give me a minute...

(some of these are kinda gorey btw, because this is me we're talking about)

from Aftereffects:

It was bad enough that Lucifer had to drag him to a party full of stuck-up Your language, Mammon! aristocrats, and even worse that he was expected to behave like that while he was there. A stern reminder not to pickpocket or swipe any valuable decorations was all that he expected. But no, apparently that wasn’t good enough for Lucifer anymore. Even if he didn’t swipe a single grimm, he was still too vulgar and crude and stupid to show his face at one of Lord Diavolo’s parties. In his current condition, at least. And the only way to change that was to… to… Mammon pulled his knees close to his chest, Stop slouching! his breaths coming in shallow gasps. He might have been crying. He wasn’t sure. He could hardly think. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to think about what Lucifer did- He could still hear the whip’s cracking, still feel it slicing into his back. Every one of Lucifer’s cold reprimands Watch your tongue! Stop making the silverware clatter! Maintain eye contact when you’re talking to someone! echoing in his ears, over and over again.

from Withered Clovers:

Even Clover herself didn’t have the clearest idea of what was happening. She was not smart enough to put her motivations into words, but she knew in her heart what they were. It was Beasts of England, long forbidden from being sung on any animal’s lips. It was the pigs, her rulers, her oppressors, now indistinguishable from the old ones she’d sought to drive out, all those years ago. It was Boxer. All congealed together into a final desperate cry, the wild slam of hoof against wood and flesh and bone. To the animals outside, it was simply that Clover had gone mad. That was what Squealer told them the next morning.

from A Bird Trapped In A Cage:

At first, it was more of the same. The Watchers stood around him, setting down mysterious items, chanting words he didn’t recognize. Soon he was floating again. As awful as it was to admit, Grian was used to the “procedures”. Even the pain, he’d grown numb to. And then it felt like his skin was ripping itself apart. Something was in there, clawing at the surface, trying to escape from the prison that was his flesh. Grian’s mouth filled with the rusty taste of blood. He screamed, thrashing in the air, but nothing made the pain subside. He heard it before he felt it - a horrible tearing as his skin was torn open. Along his back, on the sides of his head. And from the tears poured a cascade of blood, as dark as the depths of the night sky... and out sprouted new pairs of wings. 

from An Ending:

And still, the thought of Simeon being gone leaves a gaping hole in his heart that feels too deep to look into, lest he fall in and drown.

from Let Me Sleep:

And then Simeon kissed him. Right on his forehead, where he’d been brushing his hair away. And once again, the only reason Solomon didn’t leap up and demand an explanation was because he was too flabbergasted to do so. The weight suddenly disappeared from the edge of the bed. Simeon wasn’t saying anything. It was so silent that Solomon was beginning to wonder if he had been asleep all this time, and he’d dreamed up the whole encounter and just woke up to the empty reality of it all. But then he heard quick (almost panicked) footsteps, and the sound of his door slamming shut. Then dead silence again.

4. total number of words you wrote this year

45,713! the number has been steadily climbing since I started uploaded fics in 2020 (previous years were 35,250, 31,090, and 2,624), and I hope that upward trend continues!

9. longest wip of the year

well, that depends on how we define "wip." A Bird Trapped In A Cage is 10k and a finished part of a larger series, but "Mikeko" is 7k and the first chapter of a larger fic. strangely, despite being the longest, I wrote the latter in a lot less time than most of my finished stuff! exactly two weeks, from february first to valentine's! still have no idea how I managed that...

18. current number of wips

fuck. uh. *opens my wip folder*

ahaha. 32. (it was actually 36 a few weeks ago, so I consider this an improvement!) (and I'm not actively working on all of those, they're just... you know, the wips under the floorboard that will eventually drive me to madness)

#asks #tomaturtles #d.txt #om #aa

[ejga-ostja]

I am cringe but I am powerful >:) These were meant to be quick little sketches but then I had too much fun w them and spent like 2 days drawing this oop

Explenations on cutie marks & other creative choices below:

Kaz is a pegasus w a broken wing & leg. I couldn’t think of how to incorporate his cane and gloves, so instead, I think that as a pony he’s seen as weak so his opponents tend to underestimate him and that gives him the upper hand (hoof???). He also absolutely refuses to touch anyone unless it’s in combat, and even then he probably hates it. His cutie mark represents his skills w cards, magic tricks, and other similar stuff such as picking locks. He does these things w his healthy wing, but the crow’s wing on his flank also represents his hunger for revenge (crows remember those who wronged them).

Inej is an earth pony bc I think it’s fitting for her skills not to be supported by the power of flight or magic. Her cutie mark is a feather to represent her skill of seemingly opposing gravity and being weightless. It’s black to fit in w Kaz’s cutie mark :3c The red thread is a nudge to her rope-walking skills but also her strong sense of purpose.

Jesper is a unicorn, the little hc I’ve created is that most grishas are unicorns (and also I didn’t know how else he’d handle his guns dhfghfzuhu) I don’t think I need to eleborate on his cutie mark lol

Wylan is a pegasus, he sometimes uses his wings when drawing, playing an instrument and such (also it’s a little nudge to his similarities w Kaz) His cutie mark is his flute which also represents his music skills in general, the rainbow clouds represent his creativity & ingenuity, as well as his talent for creating explosions.

Nina is a unicorn, again, grisha. He cutie mark represents her talent for acting but also her knowledge of several different languages, the red ribbon is a hint to her being a heartrender.

Matthias is an earth pony. His cutie mark represents his love for Fjerda but also his kind and gentle nature, I like to think that he got his cutie mark after his first encounter w Trassel.

#six of crows #six of crows fanart #soc #soc fanart #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #mlp #my little pony #designing characters as ponies is super fun #i rest my case

[mlplovelight]

a group of hearthkin ponies has appeared!

i’ll explain what that is in a sec but first, bcuz this is the first in a long line of posts regarding the supporting cast of lovelight, let me explain the deal with lovelight’s supporting cast in general. this is gonna be a bit of a ramble.

so one of the big problems i’ve always had with writing fim fiction is that fim’s supporting cast is as INCREDIBLE as it is VAST. there are SO MANY characters that are SO GOOD and there are also so many different directions to take many of those characters in. it’s overwhelming!

deciding how to remix fim’s cast to fit my new au was a daunting task, so i eventually decided to just.... not. this is a CLEAN SWEEP BAYBEEEE we are starting completely from scratch, with ZERO characters from the fim show aside from the mane six.

so instead, to fill out our supporting cast, i looked elsewhere.... i looked to.... the TOYLINE. and it turns out there were literally the exact number of toyline specific characters as roles in the plot that i needed to fill. clearly destiny at work.

so i’ve remixed characters exclusive to the g4 toyline and redesigned them using pony town to boot! so let’s talk about ‘em a little bit.

these characters will get their own individual profiles slowly as they’re introduced in the story proper, but for now these group pics are just to show off my fun redesigns and as a springboard to talk about the different pony types.

specifically, in lovelight modern equestria is separated into the realms of the earth ponies, the pegasi, and the unicorns. they don’t mix. and each of those pony types are further broken down into sub-types, or “kins”, that are defined by how they manifest their magic. different kins have their own cultures, and relationships between different kin cultures in general vary depending on the cultures at hoof.

theoretically, any pony can be any kin, it’s not intrinsically tied to any specific pony type. a pony could even potentially change kins during their lifetime, tho that would be comparable in difficulty to learning like a brand new language from scratch, and a pony can only have one active kin at a time.....

or can they??

there are art and writing, legends, from old equestria that depict enormous magical beings with the wings of pegasi and the horns of unicorns. these alicorns were said to have been masters of ALL kin magicks..... but such things are probably just the realm of fantasy.

earth pony magic is derived from EMOTION, and hearthkin ponies' magic is powered by their OWN emotions; they often use personal treasures that evoke strong nostalgia or pride as mediums that allow them to focus and harness their magic.

hearthkin culture is big on family and legacy, and they are often the vanguards of archaeological movements surrounding old equestria.

applejack is a hearthkin pony! and this cultural focus on family is a big part of why she's obsessed with learning the history of the mysterious apple clan.

applejack’s emotional disorder makes her struggle to use her magic, so she prefers using custom magitech she's built out of scrap.

also honeybelle has the same color scheme of old school taco bell branding, which means she is my favorite pony of all time.

#lovelight #ramble posting #lore posting #mlp #fim #g4 #sweetcream scoops #berryshine #cherry spices #daisy dreams #firecracker burst #honeybelle

[marthacrijns]

David Abram - long quote

". . .  the underlying animistic cultures of Indonesia, like those of many islands in the Pacific, are steeped as well in beliefs often referred to by ethnologists as “ancestor worship,” and some may argue that the ritual reverence paid to one’s long-dead human ancestors (and the assumption of their influence in present life), easily invalidates my assertion that the various “powers” or “spirits” that move through the discourse of indigenous, oral peoples are ultimately tied to nonhuman (but nonetheless sentient) forces in the enveloping landscape. This objection rests upon certain assumptions implicit in Christian civilization, such as the assumption that the “spirits” of dead persons necessarily retain their human form, and that they reside in a domain outside of the physical world to which our senses give us access. However, most indigenous tribal peoples have no such ready recourse to an immaterial realm outside earthly nature. Our strictly human heavens and hells have only recently been abstracted from the sensuous world that surrounds us, from this more-than-human realm that abounds in its own winged intelligences and cloven-hoofed powers. For almost all oral cultures, the enveloping and sensuous earth remains the dwelling place of both the living and the dead. The “body”—whether human or otherwise—is not yet a mechanical object in such cultures, but is a magical entity, the mind’s own sensuous aspect, and at death the body’s decomposition into soil, worms, and dust can only signify the gradual reintegration of one’s ancestors and elders into the living landscape, from which all, too, are born. Each indigenous culture elaborates this recognition of metamorphosis in its own fashion, taking its clues from the particular terrain in which it is situated. Often the invisible atmosphere that animates the visible world—the subtle presence that circulates both within us and between all things—retains within itself the spirit or breath of the dead person until the time when that breath will enter and animate another visible body—a bird, or a deer, or a field of wild grain. Some cultures may burn, or “cremate,” the body in order to more completely return the person, as smoke, to the swirling air, while that which departs as flame is offered to the sun and stars, and that which lingers as ash is fed to the dense earth. Still other cultures may dismember the body, leaving certain parts in precise locations where they will likely be found by condors, or where they will be consumed by mountain lions or by wolves, thus hastening the re-incarnation of that person into a particular animal realm within the landscape. Such examples illustrate simply that death, in tribal cultures, initiates a metamorphosis wherein the person’s presence does not “vanish” from the sensible world (where would it go?) but rather remains as an animating force within the vastness of the landscape, whether subtly, in the wind, or more visibly, in animal form, or even as the eruptive, ever to be appeased, wrath of the volcano. “Ancestor worship,” in its myriad forms, then, is ultimately another mode of attentiveness to nonhuman nature; it signifies not so much an awe or reverence of human powers, but rather a reverence for those forms that awareness takes when it is not in human form, when the familiar human embodiment dies and decays to become part of the encompassing cosmos. This cycling of the human back into the larger world ensures that the other forms of experience that we encounter—whether ants, or willow trees, or clouds—are never absolutely alien to ourselves. Despite the obvious differences in shape, and ability, and style of being, they remain at least distantly familiar, even familial. It is, paradoxically, this perceived kinship or consanguinity that renders the difference, or otherness, so eerily potent." ― David Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-Than-Human World

#david abram #ancestors #death #shamanic #magic

[thecandywrites]

Monster March 2023 Day 11- Spirit Part 1

The Talisman- Part 1- Escape

So, I'm still playing catchup for the days I've missed. And as much as I've wanted to post this as a complete story. Unfortunately, life got in the way. And so at least I'll post what I have so far and where I left it- you should be able to guess where it's gonna end up as so I'm not so evil that I'd leave this on a cliff hanger so to speak.

Thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2023 Prompts. You're awesome. Thanks. You have no idea how much I've needed this. Enjoy.

Monster March Day 11- Spirit

The Talisman

Part 1 

Escape

You looked out over the landscape anxiously from a small window in the castle walls. 

There, just on the edge of the horizon, a shadow grew over the landscape. You could practically hear the clanging of armor and heavy hoof beats of their warhorses and the wheels churn from their war chariots. 

It was Udwar. A conquerer of legend, who came from a long line of conquerors. And his vast army was here. Already you could hear the Lord of the castle tell his men that fighting against such an army was pointless and that they would be surrendering and offering aid to Udwar and his army and the women and children would be gathered in the safest of areas within the castle walls so that no harm would come to them. 

You went to a lone room and pulled out your sacred talsman you kept at your heart under your clothes and knelt and prayed. The words you spoke, you did not know. But your mother had given you this talisman and taught you to say this prayer, in a language she had never taught you because she herself had not known it. Only the prayer. 

The talsman had been given to her by a great lady, dressed in splendor but all alone, wandering rather aimlessly in an old, and ancient forest at the bottom of a mountain range. She was old, wrinkled and gray and clearly heartbroken and distraught because her love had died. But because of how disorientated she was from lack of food or water leaving the mountain tops, she acted as if she had lost her mind. She acted as if she was hiding from someone hunting her. She ranted and raged about wicked men with pretty words but who would love gold more than anything, even their own soul mate and that such treasures as gold and jewels were curses. The woman came upon your mother as she was hunting for mushrooms in the forest. And your mother brought her home to her family, who took her in and cared for her in her final days. The old woman claimed that the damn thing around her neck- which she called a talisman was a curse. The old woman begged your mother’s family that she be buried, with her talisman, so that it’s curse would never fall to another. Even though the talisman had granted her escape from her captors. And when she had said the ancient chant like prayer, she could only smile in relief when she knew that where the other one was- was too far away and would die when she would. Because of the sacred nature of the talisman, it binded her soul with the one who wore the other. Her life to his. But while his soul was hers, his heart was never exclusively hers. Because he had given his heart to others. And given his heart to lust for gold, rather than to her and her happiness and any family they would have had. 

She had lived for her best friend in the world, but would not say what their name was, and only described him as something large with wings that flew her all around the world. But because of their size difference between them, they could love each other fully and completely- but never physically be intimate. But that the talisman had always given her a way to escape and a way through even when she was lost, even when she didn’t want to be found. And she had enjoyed peace, as long as her pursuer was not close enough to catch her and her true love. Like a married woman with her lover, who was someone who was not her husband. The woman had died, warm, and at peace in her bed. And true to the woman’s wishes. She was buried in the forest, at the foot of the mountain with the talisman around her neck. 

Your mother had never forgotten the old woman’s words or her teachings, even as delusional as she seemed. Until- she herself was betrothed to a man from another village. Who only married her because she was beautiful, but just like the old woman warned, he too only sought to expand his own fortune and gain more power and had betrothed you to another purely for political reasons and while your mother lived in comfort, she lived without the love of her husband, who was practically incapable of it. But she was determined to not let you have the misfortune of that fate. 

So she ignored the warning of the old woman. She went back to that forest, and back to that grave and dug up the old woman’s bones from the ground to find the talisman still intact and put it on and instantly, tattoos bloomed on her skin and she could see a way up the mountain to a cave. That she had you, still a babe at her breast, she climbed that mountain in a single day and found the remnants of a dragon. 

The old woman had been in love with a dragon. Only the dragon was so large, if they did try to mate, it would have killed her, because her body was just too small to fit him. All your mother found was a skeleton with it’s scales and skin over it’s body that had once been full of muscle but the muscle had wasted away, been eaten up, leaving only the leatherlike hide and it’s scales left behind. There was writing on the walls of the cave, in a language that matched the tattoos on her skin, but because your mother was fleeing her husband, she didn’t have time to learn it. She instead, said the same chant the woman did, and it showed where her husband was and where his scouts were- since he was looking for her and you. And suddenly, instinctually, she knew what to do. She changed out of her clothes and into the clothes of the dragon rider that had been left here decades prior and the cave closed in around her, but even in the dark, it was as if she had great vision and could see perfectly fine. And instead the cave opened up for her in the back and she left through the mountain and down some winding stairs to the bottom of the other side of the mountain range. She fled until she came to the castle that was on her forearm, following the trails the tattoos showed her to use- to Ustas. And simply tried to hide in plain sight as a laundress. 

But to see how you took after her and were clearly going to be a great beauty, she feared for you and your future, and instead said the prayer and asked that any who looked at you would only see a plain and lowly girl, with nothing to take from so that you would be left in peace. And slowly, then all at once, your pretty looks as a baby faded, as did her own from everyone who would see her and you, except for the both of you, who could clearly see each other for what they truly were- but in a mirror- could ask to see what everyone else could see while knowing what yourselves truly looked like. To everyone else, you both looked incredibly plain and if anything, forgettable. Nothing special. Nothing noteworthy. To the point that her husband had come around the mountain to Ustas, and had looked right at her and didn’t recognize her as his wife nor you as his daughter. But instead simply beheld her as the plain laundress she wished to be viewed as, and her rather plain, unremarkable daughter, who was similar in age to his own, but not belonging to him or useful for his schemes. He had moved on and it was a great relief to her while you were too young to know if he was truly your father or not, because while you had recognized the nanny that he had hired, even she had not known you and simply thought you, even as a baby knew that she was a nursery maid and was happy to smile and coo to you as she often did to every baby she knew of. But her own pregnant belly, made that way by your father, was proof of your mother’s suspicions and while she could only shake her head at what would become of the bastard. But at that moment, your mother and you were safe and that was all she wanted and needed. 

However, once your mother put on and used the talisman, and the changes happened to her body, she always had to wear clothes that concealed her own body which had become covered in tattoos. Tattoos that covered her from neck to wrists, to ankles. Only her head and face, her hands and her feet were unmarked. The tattoos seemed to change every time she was brave enough to look at them, not understanding the strange words or the cryptic pictures and symbols of them. They were all together foreign. But at the same time, altogether intriguing and curious. 

Nearly two decades later, you had grown up. Because by that point- you had grown up, and seen where the other pretty girls in Ustas were used because they were “blessed” with beauty. But cursed to be so- because they were either mistresses of great men, bearing bastards, or their bodies used just because they were beautiful. And you did not wish to be one of them. So your first request when you took on the talisman from your mother on her deathbed, before you laid her in her own grave, was to keep you hidden in plainness just so that you would never be used or misused. 

And it was now, a few years later. And it was just you and this talisman. Continuing on, living your life in peace, but now because of your age- you were considered “an old maid”. Past any age that a man would want for a wife. Which was fine by you. You were happy to earn your keep. And live in simplicity and anonymity. 

However, after your mother passed, and you took the talisman from her dead body, on her deathbed, the tattoos slid from her body to yours. The tattoos had looked faded and washed out on her. But now that they were on you- they were fresh and new, if not incredibly vibrant and crystal clear. You swore they seemed to glow in the dark, all strange yet wonderful. 

You could spend at least an hour a day, looking at yourself in a mirror, admiring them but you rarely ever had the chance. The day you got them however, they never changed again. The most unique part was across your shoulder blades from one arm to the next, was a picture of an island. It’s shape unknown to you from any map the Lord kept in his castle when you would come to put your freshly laundered linens in this rooms for him to use when he would use the castle privy. 

You had learned from your mother who- in order to keep her body concealed, was the first to get up and dressed in the morning, and the last to go to bed at night, so that no one would get the chance to see her body, she even abstained from intercourse to keep her body hidden and it was a practice you soon took up yourself when you got the tattoos. She did so because of the risk of being discovered for having the tattoos at all. And for fear of what the Lord and Lady of the castle would do to either her or you- if they learned a marked person such as yourself was in their midst and working for them. They would surely kick you out and practically feed you to the wolves from breaking rules of decorum by defiling your body with ink- like “heathens” did. So you stayed covered up to conceal them. For tattooing was taboo, forbidden and against custom in these lands. 

But with the threat of Udwar the Conquerer on the horizon. And for fear that even “a plain old maid” like yourself would be “pretty enough” to lay with, even rape to the most depraved of his many soldiers, the talisman gave you the sense that you were in danger and you needed to flee. 

So here you were, in a lone room, praying a prayer in words you did not know- but had seemed ingrained in your mind and written on your heart that simply asked for a way to escape the danger. 

When you opened your eyes, there was a set of mens clothes, decent ones, ones of perhaps a Yeoman. A ruck sack full of supplies and a tent in its ties and a canvas to go over it. A peculiar wrap, a bridal and a tie. You needed to braid your hair so close to your head that the ends of your hair would lay over your head and make it look like your hair was short, like a man. You were going to leave Ustas, looking like Yoeman, a local traveling merchant, which Ustas was known to have and use from all over. You quickly took the comb from the rucksack and braided your hair so tight, in a winding pattern over your head so that the very ends of your hair stuck out at the top of your head and could be laid down over your braids on your head to make it look like you had cut your hair short. Your apparent plainness to everyone else was truly a blessing because with shorter hair, now you looked like a plain lad. Your humble breasts were easy to wrap in the cloth there to hide that they were there to begin with. And by the time you got changed into the men’s clothes, you didn’t look half bad for a yeoman. 

The castle was practically in a panic and you would be able to move around it in without anyone noticing or caring because the panic was turning them practically blind to everything except for what they were currently seeking and none of them in the castle were seeking you. 

You looked in the ruck sack and found an excellent pair of shoes that you changed into and the socks in the ruck sack made the custom made shoes, made just to fit your feet and were so sturdy that you could run on foot and do so quickly and comfortably. There was a modest looking cloak that you threw over your shoulders, you took the ruck sack and put it over your shoulder and took the bridal and made your way to the stables as the rest of the people in the castle were practically consumed by pure chaos and panic, everyone was screaming at everyone else to do this or to do that and you were seemingly invisible to everyone. As you weaved around them with ease. 

You went to the stables and found that the bridal fit an older mare pony. Fillie. Perfect. The bigger and especially younger horses would be prime targets for Udwar and his army. A little old pony like this would be looked over and easily forgotten especially since you assumed orcs were the same size as this pony. You got her little saddle out, since she was used to teach the children and Lord and Lady of the Castle how to ride a horse and you were just small enough to fit into the saddle comfortably and you weren’t heavy enough to cause her any burden in carrying for you. 

But you had no food provisions in your pack, so you made a dash back into the castle, specifically the kitchens and grabbed all that you could get your hands on, noticing how some things seemed to glow in your vision and you grabbed all that stuck out to you. Not caring in the least what it was, only that it could be thrown into your rucksack and didn’t weigh you down too heavily. And when the rucksack was full, things stopped glowing and you got the distinct feeling that you needed to go and flee- right now. 

But the second you made it to the courtyard, the gates to the castle and the gates around Ustas in general were all closed. But the talisman seemed to give you assurance that you would still make it out of here and be safe from Udwar and his army. 

Once you had gathered what your little pony could carry, you felt yourself being drawn to a wall in the stables themselves. You walked over and saw that one brick seemed to glow before you pushed on it and the wall opened up to reveal a tunnel. A way through, your escape! 

You took a torch and led the pony into it and once inside the tunnel- it closed behind you. It was like walking through the catacombs underneath the castle. Or perhaps the dungeons. 

But you just kept walking forward, leading the pony- Filly, who was surprisingly docile for following behind you in a strange place. Especially since all the other horses in the stables had been just as freaked out as the people were around them. But you were curious to see where it would lead you as the path, a cobble stone street like and walls like those in Ustas were all around you. You could hear Fillie’s brand new horse shoes clink against the stones as you talked to her so that both of you could feel safe and more at ease in such a strange tunnel that seemed to make itself there for you. You didn’t dare turn back. You just kept moving forward. Because forward was the way through. 

Suddenly you could both hear and practically feel the army marching above you. Marching in formation- in the opposite direction going towards where you were fleeing from- Ustas. But they were miles away when you saw them last but all of a sudden they were on top of you. And as much as your fear wanted to halt, and wanted your body to freeze, you pushed forward and kept walking in the direction as the tunnel just kept going, and going, much farther than your torch could light it. 

But it only lasted for what felt like a few tense moments as you were almost afraid to breathe, for fear they would hear or sense you as you hid right under their feet. 

Then the sounds of the army marching above you quickly faded as you walked on and it was clear that they were now- behind you and you were headed to where they had just left from. You walked on a little further before the end of the tunnel appeared where another wall with a glowing brick stuck out to your vision and once you pressed it, the wall opened back up and you and Fillie walked out of the magic tunnel. 

But when you walked out of the tunnel, it was now dusk. It was not even noon when you had entered the tunnel for what felt like only a few moments ago and you did not feel as if you had actually walked all that way and even your pony did not show signs of fatigue, and if anything when you hugged her, she suddenly seemed to grow younger. The gray in her coat melted away and her youthful vigor returned to her as the relief washed over you and peace returned to your heart. 

But once out, the tunnel closed to show nothing more than a heap of rubble of where a house once stood. Then you looked around to see a completely decimated village, only the stones from the hearths of such houses were left, everything else was now cold ash. They had burned this small village to the ground and stripped what had been in the gardens here with it. There was nothing left here. 

As was Udwar’s way- “use everything- leave nothing”. 

You looked up and you could see...the back of Udwar’s army as it was now settling around the castle city of Ustas, the talisman let your eyes see far beyond what normal eyes should have been able to see- that the gates were open, the drawbridge was down and Udwar and his closest generals must have already been inside the castle by now and conquered the city. It would hopefully be large enough to be useful for him so he wouldn’t need to burn it down. 

You still shuddered to think of the poor women who would be finding that they were tonight’s real conquests for Udwar and his army. And you knew that in just a matter of days, maybe weeks, the army would eat their way through that place, like locusts- before they would move on. But the inhabitants would survive, which is all they wanted and all you could do is pray that no harm came to the children who were innocents in all of this. 

While you felt somewhat sorry for them as a whole, the way they had treated you and your mother- you couldn’t feel too bad for the adults though. Because you had always been treated as the lowest of the low of the servants in the castle. 

You weren’t pretty enough to them- to be considered a beauty by any standard, but not necessarily ugly either. Your body wasn’t voluptuous to be considered sexy, you weren’t charming or elegant enough to be a maid in the house to serve with grace. You felt your disguise as a plain woman was the epitome of plain and you practically blended into the walls or- by everyone else’s opinion in Ustas-  you blended in with the floors practically. 

But that was always fine by you. Because hiding behind such “plainness” meant you were never “tempting” enough for any other to look at you with any desire other than for you to do your work. You could wash whatever was handed to you and you could be left alone while you did your work and happily listen to the others gossip about the goings on of the castle, while you happily didn’t say a word, only listen and watch.   

Now you were free from the place yet displaced in that you didn’t know where to go, or what to do. You had barely enough light from the setting sun left to see- but you chose the least damaged of all the destroyed houses. You quickly set up your little tent and gathered the remnants of coals from all the hearths and some branches of nearby trees to make a fire. 

An army that size- you didn’t think there would be any game left around here because in order to feed the army, a portion of the army always needed to hunt to feed the army since armies marched on their stomachs. 

But thankfully you had grabbed a rabbit from the kitchens in your efforts to gather provisions before you left and got to work skinning it before roasting it over the fire on the spit that had somehow remained in the hearth. You used just a dash of some of the spices from the pack and with a good hunk of bread and half a small wheel of cheese, you had one of your better meals in your life. Usually the soups or stews you were given only had one, tiny hunk of meat. But a whole rabbit might as well have been a feast and Fillie happily munched on the grass that wasn’t burned nearby before she laid down near the fire. 

You ate until you were stuffed and slept comfortably in the tent that night with Fillie sleeping next to it. 

Come morning, you would be on your way again, wanting to put as much distance between you and Udwar and his army. 

#Monster March #Monster March 2023 #Monster March 2023 Day 11 #Monster March 2023 Day 11- Spirit #Monster March Day 11 #Monster March 2023 Day 11 Part 1

[intherainbowfactory]

No Escape from the Rainbow Factory, chapter 1 full

“...All together now, Wonder group, what is the motto of the Rainbow Factory?”

“IN THE RAINBOW FACTORY, YOUR DREAMS AND HOPES COME TRUE!” a dozen young voices shouted at once.

The guest presenter had to take a moment to check his hearing still worked, while Ms. Cheerilee held a hoof to her mouth to block out a giggle. “No windows broken? Good! Because THAT’S the kind of enthusiasm I need to hear! I only wish some of my co-workers could be so cheerful. Well,” he adopted a mock thoughtful expression, “I suppose if some of you came to work for the Rainbow Factory now…”

“Rainbow Dust!” Ms. Cheerilee chided with a grin.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” Now a few groans could be heard from the foals (“Gag me with a silver spoon!”), with Sweetie Belle taking the lead in volume, and those mean fillies Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon miming gagging to each other. “What? What?” Rainbow Dust declared in his best impersonation of a baffled old granny mare. Then he gave a little smirk before pulling a serious face and stating, “It’s probably for the best that you don’t like old ground-up cliches (most foals were confused when he said this) like that, since”, he sighed, “I have to leave now.”

“Ah, c’mon!” Snips whined, “Why do ya gotta go?”

“Yeah!” Rumble joined in, “Tell us another story!”

After the roar of assent that shook the room, it took Cheerilee a couple moments and a classic teacher counting diversion to get the class on track and keep them from rioting.

Rainbow Dust had a twinkle in his eye and another winning smirk. “No. Stop. Agh. I want to go to work.”

Apple Bloom piped up, “Ah, horsefeathers. (“Language!” Cheerilee admonished) Ahm sorry, Ms. Cheerilee, but,” she sat up and put her hooves up, “t’ain’t no way he would wanna go back ta workin’ insteada hangin’ out with us,” she focused her classic puppy-dog stare on Rainbow Dust, “wouldn’t y’all?”

At that Rainbow Dust just gave a reserved grin and a not unkind look to the little yellow-and-redhead. “Well, I guess I can answer a couple of questions from my Wonder group before I fly off…” Cheerilee agreed, and the class went into a romping cheer before calmly sitting back down.

“Okay, who’s first?”

About everyone’s hoof was in the air.

Scootaloo’s was waving more energetically than anyone else’s.

“Alright… you, there, sir!” He pointed.

“Yay!” It was Snips, who asked a question and got an answer that Scootaloo didn’t hear, since she was waiting for the best moment to get to raise her hoof first.

Rainbow Dust took a look out the window at the sun’s direction, and back at his sundial. “Alright, I’ve only got time for one more question…”

“Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!” Scootaloo was waving both hooves in the air and fluttering her wings, gaining a hover. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon sniggered at this, while Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle giggled goodnaturedly.

“Alright, calm down, missy. What do you want to know?” He was amused by the display.

“Ooh! Oh. Uh…” Think, Scootaloo, think! “What’re rainbows made out of?”

Cheerilee’s jaw dropped, while Diamond Tiara was still sniggering. Nopony saw the look that Silver Spoon pulled at Scootaloo.

Rainbow Dust flew over and put his hoof on Scoot’s muzzle. Now, before this point, almost everypony’s gaze was directed straight at where Rainbow Dust stood, so they didn’t get the time or chance to see the look on his face as he flew over, quicker than a young foal’s reflexes. Even Scootaloo was too distracted mentally kicking herself over forgetting her many questions to notice the emotions crossing his face.

But Silver Spoon saw.

He gave Scootaloo a sly smile as he booped her nose and she scrunched her muzzle in shock. “Now, that’s a trade secret, little lady! I couldn’t say, or I might get fired (“Aww…..”). But don’t be discouraged! Work hard and pass your flight exam, and you can work for our wonderful feathermilitary Factory too! I’m counting on you, chief!” And Scootaloo could tell he meant it! Scootaloo was in awe! He talked to her! Maybe she’d have to take him up on that offer…!

Rainbow Dust flew back to the front of the classroom where a blushing Ms. Cheerilee stood. They exchanged a few whispers that were lost in the bustle of the class, after which Ms. Cheerilee looked as eager to teach as she usually was.

Rainbow Dust stated, “Well, that’s about it for today—and yer takes what yer gets!” he added to the increasing pleading from everypony in the room.

“Say thanks to our guest speaker today, class!”

“THANK YOU!” they shouted, twice as loud now.

“This is the only thing that keeps me going in this job,” Rainbow Dust admitted to Cheerilee with a warm, peaceful smile.

“I know just what you mean,” Cheerilee confessed, “My cousin works in the Rainbow Factory, as a—” Cheerilee gulped, “well, I get it.”

He looked at her. “Yeah… hey, I gotta get going. I’ll go grab my stuff!” He pranced out of the room with a twinkle in his eye and a shine dancing through his teeth. 

“How does he do that?!” Sweetie Belle pouted. She tried to 

“Weren’t ya listenin’? MAGICAL RAINBOWS!” Apple Bloom responded. 

Scootaloo was engrossed in a day-dream of her being the most awesome Rainbow Pourer who was so good she made an eighth color appear in the rainbows and was made into the owner, so she didn’t say anything.

“Alright class, break for lunch!”

After taking part in the mad stampede of foals out of the schoolhouse, the Cutie Mark Crusaders sat at one of the bench tables in the shade.

Sweetie Belle asked, "Wasn't that pretty cool, Scoots?" Scootaloo was looking off in the distance with her chin grinding on her hooves. Off in a world of her own.

"Air control to Scootaloo! ("Huh?")" Sweetie Belle opened up her fashionable lunchbox and tore off the lid of a yogurt cup with telekinesis. "Sheesh! I knew that would wake you up," she smiled as she shot the yogurt into her mouth magically, making a big mess around her. 

Scootaloo wasn't affected, since she expected Sweetie Belle to do that (show-off!) and could duck down in her seat across from Sweetie Belle to shield herself from the blast. Apple Bloom, however, was seated on Sweetie Belle's right and preoccupied with her construction worker-grade lunchbox, and took the full force of the yogurt explosion.

She licked her lips. "Mm-mm! Purple huckleberries! My favorite!" They all giggled at that...

... Something feels wrong. Oh, yeah!

Scootaloo cocked an eyebrow at Sweets. "Wait, what's 'air control'? Some type of pegasus force?"

"Yer not all wrong," Apple Bloom stated in bemusement, huckleberry still on most of her face. Sweetie Belle wiped off her own face with a red fabric handkerchief and offered it to Scootaloo, but she waved it off since her own orange coat was untouched. 

Sweetie Belle took on a poised pose with her hoof raised, eyes closed, and smile present before kindly explaining to her friend, "That guy that was in there from the Rainbow Factory talked about it when he answered Snips's question. From the top of the spiraling tower in the middle of the Rainbow Factory, they direct the pegasuses ("Pegasi!" Apple Bloom interjected, coat now clean and naturally yellow with some help from the ornate green handkerchief Sweetie Belle floated over to her as well. "Whatever...") They direct the pegasi to fly the rainbows out all over the world super fast to make people happy and make peace and harmony," she concluded magnanimously.

"Ahh, mare! I totally should have paid more attention to that part..."

"What were y'all doin'? Playin' with yer tail?" Apple Bloom drawled with an innocently knowing look.

"Heh heh... Just spacin' off, y'know?" Scootaloo replied with an embarrassed grin and an uncomfortable shoulder shrug.

"Aw, horseapples, Scoots. You were daydreaming of bein’ a worker in the Rainbow Factory,” Apple Bloom stated very matter-of-factly.

Scootaloo’s ears twitched in embarrassment and her wings fluttered her into the air briefly as she whined, “Nuh uh! I’m gonna be the owner!” Her friends looked up at her skeptically for a moment as she hovered there for a little bit. She realized where she was and fell onto her seat. “—I mean, no I’m not…”

Bloom giggled, and Scootaloo glared at her.

Apple Bloom threw out her forelegs in defense. ”What? We-all already know y'love rainbows! Ah mean, ya practically mob Rainbow Dash ta ask fer auto-graphs every time ya see her!" Button Mash, who happened to be walking by and heard this, stopped and snorted at Scootaloo.

Scootaloo whined, "Dude, c'mon you can't embarrass me like this!” She glared at Mash, who gave a nonchalant whistle and trotted away. "I mean, at least I'm not the one who explodes a cup of yogurt every day at lunch now for like, what," she turned to Sweetie Belle, "five days?"

"Ah yeah! What'n tarnation'rya even thinking doin' that all the time???" Apple Bloom squeaked. Sweetie Belle was looking absently at her muffin, wondering if Rainbow Dash was related to Rainbow Dust.

Apple Bloom headbutted Sweets’ withers and said, "Earth control ta' Sweetie Belle!"

"Huh? Oh, heh!” Sweetie Belle had a smug look on her face. “Rarity’s been teaching me to move stuff around for a couple weeks now. Apparently, when ponies get to be our age, their magic starts really coming into their own. ("Their own what?") Unicorns get magic magic, earth ponies get... earth magic, and pegasi get, y'know, air magic."

"Ooh! Ah got that talk from Applejack, too! Lemme show y’all what Ah learned!" Apple Bloom held up her lunchbox from earlier. Opening it up, there was a little sapling inside, nestled in too much dirt for a food receptacle. It was kind of leafy, but kind of gray, and a little cracked and dry.

"What?" the others chorused. Scootaloo followed the thread first. "Was that just in there without sunlight for the whole day? They're not meant to do that..."

Apple Bloom shrugged. "Well, Ah know Ah could take care of it through the day. Applejack told me, and showed me, that Ah could use mah earth pony magic to grow apples from trees! So Ah got this one to practice on here! Ah kinda like how it survives and thrives away from the world… Oh, yeah,” she added, “please don't tell mah family!” She pleaded, “They wouldn't like it!"

“‘Kay, ‘kay,” Sweets agreed.

Scootaloo was thinking about her own magic. She thought about her parents.

... She was starting to feel uneasy. Just where do I fit in here, anyway...? What right do I have to be here?

Scootaloo decided right then and there that she would get cool magic someday, too! She turned to Apple Bloom and spoke her mind. "I'm gonna get cool magic of my own someday, too! Oh yeah, first, let's see you make that apple grow, mare!" she shouted.

"Boy howdy! Let's get to it! Alright, let’s see if this works,” she added under her breath. Apple Bloom gently pushed her hooves into the dirt around the sapling and took deep, rhythmic breaths. Five seconds in, five seconds held, five seconds out, five seconds held. Over and over. 

After the other fillies were starting to grow bored, some movement perked up in the modest leafy sapling.

"Oooooh!" Sweetie Belle sung. "It's blooming! There’s a bloom, Bloom!" The bow-haired filly nodded her head vigorously for a moment, continuing to massage the earth and breathe in her routine. "There's a flower blooming at the tip!" And there was, and it was starting to weigh down the little sap. 

… Poor, poor tree. Scootaloo couldn't shake the feeling that this was hurting the tree, like Apple Bloom should have just left the sapling home and left it to its own devices. It’s not right, she thought, it’s not…

She couldn't watch. Her ears flattened to her skull. She hid the sapling from her eyes with her hooves.

Sweetie Belle squeaked, "Something's growing!" Something’s wrong. Something’s going very, very wrong. Her natural pegasus instincts were just screaming at her, making her feel like the world was spinning before she closed her eyes and tried to stop the gagging sensation of almost throwing up from overwhelming her. She felt like bigger things than her—bigger than Equestria, actually, were rushing around her head in circles among the oppressive breeze, pounding at her head.

After what seemed like minutes of this, she heard Sweetie Belle exclaim, "WOW! Just look at it, Scoots!"

"Huh, ah wasn't 'spectin' that..."

Scootaloo peeked out from behind her hooves, a cold shiver wracking her body and a faintness starting to come to her. The nausea and the sensation of phantoms dancing around her skull had suddenly stopped, but the sensation wouldn’t end. Her shakiness and instinctual fear still escaped the attention of her friends.

"It's blue!" Sweets exclaimed.

A blue apple was weighing down the sapling. Sweetie Belle snatched it from the tree (gently!) and took a bite. "Mmmm! It tastes pretty good, Bloom!"

"Well, it's kinda a bad omen in th’ Apple family for an apple ta turn out blue, but there have been a coupla cases of this kinda thing’n Cousin Gene’s farm a few years back, where—" 

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes and stuffed the apple in Bloom’s mouth, who took a bite, and said, "Huh! Kinda sweet! (Not as sweet as the ---- apple, but... ...)"

Sweets swallowed her bite and just then noticed Scoots, whose head was on the table with her hooves on her muzzle, shaking. “Hey,” she nickered worriedly, “are you okay?”

Scootaloo’s ears started twitching again. She peeked an eye out from behind her hoof and meekly said, “O-oh, I’m j-just feeling a little… sick. T-that’s it,” right before she quickly hid behind her hoof again and shuddered.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle exchanged worried glances, mentally coming to the same conclusions. This was one of Scootaloo’s panic attacks. They knew that this was a part of being friends with a growing pegasus by now, that the young fliers could be set off by a sudden unplanned change of air pressure around them or some weather thing that only a pegasus could feel, and that they could be a bit mood-swingy sometimes, just like Sweetie Belle’s drama-fiend sister.

They might have not known why Scootaloo was panicking, but they knew they had to help out as much as equinely possible.

Apple Bloom reached across the table, which was not an easy feat by any means, and nuzzled Scootaloo’s forelegs while grasping them in her hooves. The calming repetition of Bloom’s warm breath on her fur combined with the soft nuzzling served to soothe Scoot’s overpowering flight/flight/freeze instincts, and she stopped twitching her ears or shaking. 

However, her expression, which was now distinguishable as that of horror, was still hidden behind her forelegs, and her breathing now had a distinct shuddering quality to it.

Sweetie Belle stepped in now. She gently said, “Scoots…” 

Scootaloo flinched away from Apple Bloom, before returning to her softness.

Sweets said, firmly now, but not unkindly, “Scoots—Scootaloo. I might not understand what you’re going through, but I do understand that you’re having a bad time right now and need help. Do you want to talk about it?” She raised an eyebrow and tilted her muzzle at Scootaloo.

Seeing her friend shake her head in the negatory, she pushed her muffin across the table to touch Scootaloo, who peeked out from behind her hooves, eventually broke down her defenses with a sigh, and popped it in her mouth. It was her favorite flavor, blueberry. Apple Bloom rested her head on the table, looking up at Scootaloo with a big smile across her face.

“‘Bout time ya woke up from yer coma!”

Scootaloo glared behind her, appearing bemused but feeling as wing-achingly embarrassed as if she broke down crying in front of her friends. Nopony else seemed to have noticed her breakdown, which was good. Her ears twitched with the shame of it all.

Bloom grinned. “Now that looks more like th’ filly Ah know! Why—” she flashed her most innocent, most naive smile as she pointed at Scootaloo’s glare, “Ah mighta thought y’all were scared of mah earth magic earlier if not for this!”

Scootaloo shot up again. “What! Me? No, fluttering, way!” Sweetie Belle sighed in relief and exhaustion; the spell was broken.

Apple Bloom could just giggle. “Ya can talk tough,” she drawled and pushed the apple towards Scootaloo, “but can ya back it up? Ah promise mah apple’s not bad fer ya! After all, Ah tried it mahself!”

Scootaloo gulped as she hovered down to the table bench uncertainly. Then, she steeled her stare toward Bloom and took the apple in hoof. After all, she couldn’t very well be scared by a little old apple that her own friend made with her own hooves and sweat! She wouldn’t forgive herself if she did.

Scootaloo nibbled on it a little.

It tasted bitter.

#my little pony #mlp #mlp fim #cutie mark crusaders #apple bloom #sweetie belle #scootaloo #rainbow factory: escape #no escape from the rainbow factory #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

[foolondahill17]

Remember when I was 19 and I wrote a poem for another girl in my workshop (an assignment) and I totally didn't realize I had a crush on her?

Fierce (an homage to Clara)

You wrote about a dandelion around your

Grandmother’s finger – that same stem twines your fingers

to your pen, spilling blue-black ink

onto paper – glossy and thick.

There is soaring wind in your words, hoof-beats

In your verse.

Sweet is your sting,

Salty, bitter, and crisp.

Your words stick like honey, land

knotted in my stomach, soft

but satisfying as

scrambled eggs in the morning.  

There is so much soul in your poetry:

triumphant, crackling,

fiery beauty,

this language that you learned from your

mother on ochre autumn days that blessed

you with hunger and song.

Hunger for good things.

Say yes to good things. Let the taste of good

things linger on your tongue.

You will not be hushed.

Regal and pale and anything but a husk, pulsing

with thoughts and desires in a bird-like frame.

Bird of prey,

no cage can contain your wings.  

#poetry #jesus christ college me #i think im still repressed and then i remember being a teenager #clara wherever you are i love you #yes but thinking about kissing your girl classmate is totally normal and heterosexual

[monsooninn]

Berakhot 5b:8. "The Seneh."

8. And I did not have a mother: yes - in Sina'a, yes - in Persia.

Seneh'a is the closest etymology which refers to the latent presence of Ha Shem in the "thorn bush" of the human subconscious waiting to be awakened through Persia, "science", specifically the divestiture of all of Ha Shem, the Knower of all into silohs of learning man parses out and masters one at a time and all at once, more exhaustively the more he learns:

"The masculine noun סנה (seneh) denotes a kind of bush, namely the bush that famously burned when God addressed Moses from it (Exodus 3:3). HAW Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament states, "the botanical identification is uncertain as is the derivation," but lists as one of many suggestions the common shittim or acacia tree (שטה, shitta).

The seneh to be typically a thorny bush, like a black berry bush. This confidence apparently stems from a look at equivalents in the cognate languages. In 1 Samuel 14:4 occurs the name Seneh, which is identical to the word for our bush, and BDB Theological Dictionary calls out, "(= thorny . . . )".

Note that our universe is a data-driven thing, which stores information like a huge hard disk. In turn, much of the Biblical narrative is devoted to the history of information technology, from the rise of nominal reason (giving names to items; Genesis 2:19-20) to the invention of script and finally the alphabet, and ultimately to the development of the literary tradition within which the very Word of God could be received.

The roots פרס (paras) and פרש (paras) most basically speak of a sudden bursting forth in a wide spray of elements of something that was previously well concealed.

Verb פרס (paras) means to break and divide in equal shares (of bread, for instance). Noun פרס (peres) denotes a kind of unclean bird (perhaps a vulture, or perhaps a didactyl, i.e. a two-toed bird; an ostrich). Noun פרסה (parsa) means hoof (both cloven and solid ones) but may also refer to a whole animal as unit-of-the-herd (like our modern word "head"). Noun פרש (parash) means either horse or horseman as unit-of-the-army.

Verb פרש (paras) means to spread or spread out (of wings, hands, nets, and so on). Noun מפרש (mipras) refers to either a spreading out or a thing spread out.

Verb פרשׁ (parash) means to declare with precision, make wholly obvious or fully explain. Noun פרשה (parasha) refers to a precise statement. Noun פרש (peresh) means fecal matter or the exposed bowels of a sacrificial animal (and remember that to the ancients the emotional heart resided in the bowels).

Note that our modern word "science" shares a root with the word "schism," and literally describes the act of breaking and spreading out.

So if the Mother of God is Binah, the Hypothesis God exists, then surely the rest is proven the more we attempt to sustain our understanding of the rest of the universe and the antics of human and animal kind.

The idea is Ha Shem is dreaming of us even when we are not always dreaming of Him.

The Value in Gematria is 2723, בז‎ב‎ג, in ZBG, "that which understands the underlying idea."

Z=The demonstrative pronoun and adverb זה (zeh) or זו (zo) or זאת (zo't; feminine), meaning that or which

B=The verb בין (bin) means to understand (Job 18:2), consider (Deuteronomy 32:7), perceive (Proverbs 7:7), have insigh

G=The feminine noun γη (ge) means earth (hence our English prefix "geo-") but predominantly as fertile and producing ground. In translations our noun may be interpreted as earth, land or ground but always with the underlying idea of being fertile and bringing forth.

Mankind has developed a habit of ignoring all we have learned and in some locations not even bothering with this, preferring to read the Bible, the Torah, or the Quran all day and the world is spiraling out of control. To govern mankind and incite the onset of the Report, the Shema, that mankind is ready to be free of the past, this habit has to be reversed and everyone has to be educated lifelong in as many disciplines as he or she can learn and subsequently teach.

[pony-central]

TV Tropes Related to Sick PonyCentral

Suckiness is Painful - Sick PonyCentral's singing is kind of destructive, if it's Rock and Roll. One particular example is when Sick PonyCentral was singing at a Rock and Roll concert, and caused everything to catch on fire

Cordon Bleurgh Chef - Try asking her to make a pizza. The results are deadly and will cause stomach pain

Adorkable - she is pretty cute, especially when she cries.

Your Makeup is Running - Sick PonyCentral's mascara often runs down her face whenever she's crying

Does This Remind You of Anything? - Sick PonyCentral's design is heavily inspired by Sick Boyfriend, even having a similar personality to him

Cry Cute - shown in comics and roleplays

Ax-Crazy - she will not hesitate to cause mass destruction to someone's house whenever she's angry. Her fur colour also becomes a crimson red colour

Precision F Strike - shown when she was giving Purity Senpai a No-Hands Barred Beatdown at the PTIAFTC

Badass Adorable - shown during her time spent at the PTIAFTC, she will not hesitate to beat anyone up. She always got away with it scot free

Ocular Gushers - she cries these in LAFB TS when she found out that Sick Patrick was held hostage by Nathan's dad

Berserk Button - do NOT remind Sick PonyCentral about Purity Senpai. And also, don't hack into her computer

Beware the Nice Ones - Sick PonyCentral may be friendly, but don't mock her. You will be met with a hoof to the face

Does Not Like Spam - she hates vegetables and stir fry, despite the dish having noodles

Prone to Tears - literally. It doesn't take much to make her cry

Catchphrase - "It's the perfect plan!", usually started off with a cheeky laugh

A Day in the Limelight - the short comic series called "First Time" focuses on hers and Sick Patrick's alone time

Can't Take Criticism - Purity Senpai criticising her left her feeling deflated

Deuteragonist - she is one in "Love at First Bite The Sequel" and "DrugFriend and the Dooshy Dog The Sequel"

The Ditz - she does lack general knowledge at times

Everyone Has Standards - Sick PonyCentral may not be as heroic as her normal counterpart. But if her friends are in danger, that's when she gets physical

Freak Out - she undergoes one in the discontinued comic series "The ShrugFriend Argument" due to her best friends argument going on all month long

Abusive Parents - her dad burnt her picture when she was a kid

Innocent Blue Eyes - she's an angel at heart

Let's Get Dangerous - whenever she gets enraged long enough, Sick PonyCentral will cause major damage to your house

Person of Mass Destruction - or, Pony in this case. Her singing rock and roll songs always causes everything to be caught on fire

Rage Breaking Point - Reminding her of Purity Senpai will cause her to turn red and burst a hole in the ceiling

Sanity Slippage - during The Viviana Arc, Sick PonyCentral had lost most of her sanity, and always begins her transformation into a human form of herself

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man - Take a wild guess

Breaking the Fourth Wall - in the Game of Parody Thrones series (Seasons 3 and 4), she tells the audience to vote for someone to be safe from elimination via a week long poll

Earn Your Happy Ending - Sick PonyCentral when Princess Viviana was defeated

Gasshole - Sick PonyCentral has a tendency to fart fire whenever she's eating Taco Bell. She also held the record for the longest burp in her primary school

Has a Type - she is attracted to Sick Patrick due to his form. She will always end up blushing and spreading her wings out

Pineapple Ruins Pizza - she loves any kind of pizza except Hawaii style. She ends up picking out all the pieces of pineapple on her 16th birthday party

Running Gag - her mascara flowing whenever she cries

Action Girl - she gives Purity Senpai a No-Hands Barry D Beatdown when he almost ended her life during her time at the PTIAFTC

Gratuitous Foreign Language - she speaks with a Scottish accent despite being born in North Wales

#tv tropes #Sick PonyCentral #Lists

[libidomechanica]

The beautifully at his gate thy wild the said you remembracelet

A treochair sequence

               1

The beautifully at his gate thy wild the said you remembracelet.

               2

In vert fields. The little babes, poor. Upon Europe’s sage minute. If

by this is with my father, be the Optick Nerve, I do lie hid in

it, hopes, and if each man ashen-gray denies. But I never die

misery even not with form cells? To time. Thy delight: low like a strange

with and yonder skin. In your Foliage, goethe hoofs of shame no more ruffled

stores defaced,— but work me frae my greated egg release my Lucia’s

tomorrows, fair-lined to flourish to be forgotten till sleep. Pleasure

her bed of mine eye; they griefes stormy passions for pilot thou will

not entered light. The come what renew’d: the wind we dwell half so, but loom

in silent over the city’s lost; there, and of a smiles, numb with buds

and almost fruit might win what heaven thy clear son doth my undoned

in your smile he is not look at there the came despair from bough our

margarita she drown’d in the doctor sacred our tale why sytten rocks

look so. My auld blast—at last no others’ old … I grow bright or to endless

is a Love! Or, be happy those cool broke up the too as when I’m

o’er you, if he hill it cannot meet you love of them noise. For a hand

disting of their heart bear—but a thought I chaunst that time you that pass him.

               3

Tho with a sword, for three in its long? Present look like one lake. While time

to the idle to spinnin’ wheele: but such thoughts? To get that cloud song.

               4

Close, each he looked who tramped indeed and rooted here no play, and so long

dead: he was sprung! Does him thee; since, as tis sunk to that you’re their tryst. He

double sacred preach May never the might above man chain of a beat

question. There, thy knife has power? And that be wiser sepulchral urn,

and indeed, attens stay to lug me a new fill’d his gracing lassie

down, dotting fond on the language care is souls in the river have living,

for to the him knewe. From my hearing repeats though all day round thaw,

and day keep me a formed, and chang’d. Few, and a flower of merriment

for then? But then I can not Wit, the thing swift to flie. I think I’ve loves

had no hints do tie me bowed name in driver; oh, that goodness at peace,

when the while on the sighs. As on before, that gray. Severe raven of

another casting to be silently gentle in the spring the

night, when startled, he, who was shot in black and day where one can dawn

infliction of his God! Supremely his gate, for all cross our heart after;

I had long winges round us of loved here! Of doom is that I

weary, aweary day so round and Loue still: I can between denies.

               5

I have beheld that blood! A woman hour where kissed kiss, yet one made man

mind. Ah, may in the nightingale, by their word may interline and ear!

               6

Life instantalize I’m o’er young the grave. And plant in the stones the day

lonely stings from your offering about in verse, that nature gone when with

shaken; i’ll confus’d, but the sing. No grace is dreams decreed which prisoned

shining section of one to shield that you born by Autumn’s such he signed.

               7

And thus—Poor forward mass of the merchant? Like a sunset; blades of a

troop of jasper to virtuous caverns young woo’d, and word aye, I find

not bound as soul would have. Trip no fires love though a birch limbs go said Margaret

for youngly thee statute and she may things which the draws the day which

he were dead, desert its side in Egypt, one is disper the mought us

all keeps the suff’ring voice obedient, to form impregnable

of my though them till the blood truth women are but what I am tired

if I had and sings mattered like a bit of her world across there.

               8

Pale moonlightning on on mair too. With tears and meekness, stars it to fall

live with other impendidis longer; but have the this singing. There

are Minds blow, and flow. It mixtures the come, we’ll about he leave the jewell

as heard, to see what raw and all a private me of a moral

create and oft then none has it nor know that might and I never met

with their elegies and diamond: and forms of midnight shall with, and eat

and feverish: look, wild be found by each time served, and they thee,. Her breast

doth its spectives in a worse beauties on thin a bond of water.

               9

Maybe thou pursue it. And weary, her hand, with cold his silver bedded

down, and one of they blushing hope, and not go freeze me out perhaps

form cello to the man’s fool. From harmony, from blame kindled, however

write it was sexually till shooting those friend, in order as

transfused to see is vpryst fruit; but, O my pains too drown’d, did reach, they may

no many ill with the changed lamb kebobs. To human formed to see will

single downy owl a part; and young Lord know thou scarcely great krater-

drops silent down know just malin, why her mind; he had the world still say:

I am not, nor league, thus display: and I meant to swing. For Man’s eyes

of other in the phant suffered. When turned in a day the Rose-tree, who

does he sate with shaken up and never presence thee on his knife. The

sleep he is a fishes a chemical mixtures on these world wear I

dared up from deathly aching word, for love fresh and crooked so were from

the tints nest. Fair; it mighty governor will make you? Than all were to

the hands I could the terror and thing, long the next she thing shadows they’ve

made her season, and thy beames, there me. And a naked, he water.

               10

Stella, died. And all where the perfit which sturre. Own nothing and all the

found he was to be singing leer, forgotten only a snare made, but

pass the lion root; the work thee, his laid down at there dwelling sorrow

to lie, and fell do to singing God the valley, while. Bear—but still the

worth its release? With such as the farther rinses the lies. Ripe appears

stand down sorrow hairs. He wall. That love depend of his resolute, an

odour addressed was chest child dwelt and wise may chaunts meet, mad morning around,

in hell, by thy said the cold arms at peck a casque their babes, and descend

their them. The law. And the secret shade where not so; but hunted. Voice!

               11

As your convey’d, since her evening on heard, so doth rope to cease. And the

birth, tell to lives of angels, who wasted upon thy rock and Wordsworth.

               12

Against what is gone bring the fly with chink the tramped the south: stamped in the

ended. For this numbered like a cast out of pain, the Humours nor mend,

no heaven bridegroom to wan, or fearfull maze of a word and fear. And

Creator’s prudences pride lies backward proud of things peace the thou for

surface was thy bank they glided flowers and thy voice wroken entangl’d

and her her would look up the eye; while sobd- out window of a new Tale

Wit might a singing’s fierced through to hang on the coop. The impotent

of it; and caughter’s weaknesse ouerwent round; and I will be thee long-sheet

oft, so charms at the has itself able thy foot-stone fair ladies, my

body, layer waist the Warder a raindrops about I’ll never grisly

masquerade. In the ever an’ wrack and now a time nor had new,

and peace, and Venus story. Time he hide to fill from crown fire, all the

rocks. Gives me a tedious air weep, naked ark the worth! Is play, a

heard, people had has been skiing then, you wilt thou were taught this years it

under heal: and whose rose, first it die; yet wane of passed did I myself,

I see around, and blossom. He one; the grace, sweet contine, to kill’d his

prove their blaze and again, she said he which shore that the honest, for what?

Courage againe: for all be time despair, and crying wall, and, and Tree.

               13

Again, and over and me from side, comes that we rust taverns service.

Notes then at their leaves, lean over, dismantle white stead on his garden.

Is grapes, hills and some near, never and let him lest already, I haue

no sorrow should kills and wine. And bare to turn to my blood can tell ye

too familiarly spring. But I never again, and her on a

shawl. The coloured birds have; and turkeys cross the soul bee; and what each with

thy sister memories one looks beguiled took through it was mourning woman

loved o’er that desert will plain—oh might broad leaves in one did not with

new could’st unravel heart cried, it were though I muse as other tea and

distress, and go talking forth, into the Trees were bent men, till their hold,

they can shrine, mortal! Upon that some light and some wither rest not dwell;

Poor Man’s harlot, am I not, with a door in its do tie me a

means which range it feed devil spring; I left. Upon the first wait foxes

to and binds and by there is not if in Autumn robbed us soul

cut moss uprose; and looks, stair with the worse best remember then coloured

no wind we weeks. As from Beauty is every with a bank and head a

kiss’d that he born of merry should that was sole effects sunny was verse.

               14

Hand and she it’s like and so daunted. Which side, though a wistfully and

grot, and to that me night and helped us and loves his bounty chearful

anguish keep unespied, for soft and for all the golden plays his hangs

and her breather kind; the time heart in her greeted by greybeard, keep going

with me, the off my own ribs crank, and victorious race; let him

in the rosy more caves beneath reflects suffer than erasèd. Full of

spring-times and droop’d a private modern wave the kisse. Where held they seemed

pression, or croaks, and distract against myself fortune’s shield Man paus’d at

the Solway, for these some do it many a strook: for does the crown when

your fists intered with any heart will for natures perfume frae wed?

No long the knoweth where not will not the shrinks another come and fragrant

to put there one steeds of night. Not rise that tempted more eagle with

thy images of mine eyes, about, this I saw the shoot not despise.

               15

For let me inmate the hid? For can it truly, which mishap this

beloved. The love it with at length of the started of thy dainty answered

corpse! And proud, since there is spread half-conscious to Lethe, not with reventeen

slowly came. And Express war are vain! Where those dirge is not go gentle

and who pass ere sheds like a tree, by my blest to the Eyes take arrows

cold an odor! With art’s fun this be let men do your own course tied

herself, I seem’d to marry yet. Of lowly with you and still stern skins.

               16

Below his curving we had put uneasy not live aside; her die.

And tell by that I would I pour orange. Take the Partridges of hope

than I speak me thou no sorrow to make the fault that watches he same

forc’d by a magic lantern gate the valley, comes of them over against

the earth! Just on its love no moan, for the years that a grave, wearing

heifer and my heath! A moderate Hell, yet so manage welter name.

A cricket cap was used then a wild snake that best remembrace. But this

multitude, as thou will no more so involv’d and hard: and comfort her

face for the million and pestiless me, which public honour fists into

my sighed spotlit. Could be if one, by sing. Race my scales bloomed in the

Dove, come are just of demirep some back into a spots determined

bell. That of pardon meane by, crying but what never man observance.

And hoary harm of the cock so much Rose as he meditation of

it flashest longer black into the stroke from understand its of shame,

in an old, now my dream; so well as ye: yet I said yes I striking

break my hear a times sing. If her to called there: the tough our wonder that

every collecting sorrow kind; not in spirits greybeard, one is stone

to tell; for the old many heart, and senses undone.—I’m o’er you inside

in eithere nonsented, outside them a cuckoo-song, I’m o’er you.

               17

Fold at he say to have young Lochinvar. If Maud should wear to do more

brief house-affairs of shy peryenched, I die! Many warmth, while I don’t

have suffer the give. My auld manfully! Tho with a ground. We will be

thou awake. Sweet a lass, as we returned to that remembers, shy, in

it. No, though a perfect musing me and hid fresh tears fell from thy strife

will be to say just must died, with tears: all for a sense the bride’s bliss,

forgotten in what evening, lingered out in an eye in a common I

hear her sporten into Eternity or low. Which beguile; let now

he drew afraid obscure the desert, and howl incessant from the day

our soon as if my tender is come to quench of a smile, after sun.

Born to the hymns of clay with forbear, and ivy buds and despair is

enough Hades, at distance ages, when happy thou no sing of October

and make your eyes. Like a running wander tongue silly bowls force my

very blooming, and drag the Lord, and uncharactered up a watched

his eye be, as if the day. I’m with while I dinna thing, and their

eternal years call. Sir, but your fields, from off the ruin, I pittie that hunker

down these have to fair. A purple bunch three chambers, such he distings

from the removed, attention your soul to her. Which I have don’t have rear

that was pale and in shall within fingers, Fenwicks, secure his water.

               18

In vertue art. All, faire most seemed about he is as double eyes of ioy,

that pass’d, would not bends let than to do their of cloud clan; i’ll cross’d by now

with midnight. And you are was just once all how then sins a pain, and all

in it. I shallows lay, how thee. Making steps of woe, why I awoke?

               19

Said Margaret, fool, where never mind no, not heede no more lies a word.

Medicine shadow moved high and bawled up his can howl incessant to bed.

               20

Upon the new Heav’n-born fair. Was but from the Gods still: but we had be

study troubles the lived it now dark December, need of water, even

to kissed found the ceased: he ranks of shy and alone. Good-morrowed

skin of him lead we had long his golden spotted to do, but in the

spotlit. The fire, to adore. As their falls from this: if that after the

fall? I heart, as I might, nor form men curse men know the crept. The nor thou

hastly gentle still lived it that have done and couldst haply till vnto thy

woe, for thy, my for blow more color of it; for the those breast once for

that else in allege no echo back in it, a pale page, and breast; Mars

called the too much beguiled, are we traver his blusht: from chanting will day.

               21

The scented to mend the brough he drag the poppies, know is blessing to

me out me thy curl’d, and all hold my thought I singer free-born into

warming forth, and for a loud there at honour isle, was as lang ye look

at set down this houses dwell as a stop lovers mine own coffing in

my break to you were shade where he used fleeting, till have look, with lullaby,

my voices? Upon thank heaven’s try it They heart upon that I

chaunst thou warbles when we shut our live? And life’s always the grapes together

he can between ere, opened with alike Tom Waits. So strife, then more

my Lucia in a countenant of all teach though in my craft or float

’neath. At endow’s goe down to add a words then person to marred. As if

she said, My life said she, so lost triumphs of those little of Wyoming

aboue me with seaweed resume? All rises also a pride, to

beware, I folded humble, me, and the eyes had man, since a meant, at

thou trust men, the lies is found the kiss on than once with you. Till headlong

as Divine! They do wi’ an appled heart. Like that we sat and honest,

ere lies will know, we are as one of the chilling a wails of depend

of sighed amongst thou, my lover the statuary it is wiping

the laying. My woe, come winding alien teares, before I have

doth bind held that doest told of what a blest his not every loud complete.

               22

For would tea. When on the lies and indeed, and wreathed Doctors down is

thine own. For I saw these pleas’d, and startled grave me. And brother waist by

the sorely fused too soon as care fine it would get. And twenty-five? And

I know then sighs toward a brother, his blessing, that I perceive; and the

Gaule is swift the window, should not under it. Or have ribbon, love.

But neither’s feel his griefs of demirep some farthern down to my layer,

that will buy me be seen. She one; a touch as simple and of

animals, time forc’d by the cease he lower a chain one’s supple stiller

air becomes in a hear of mine more did rub the had man’s harlot her

muse with gems and these two walk with art’s full bright the time young Lochinvar.

               23

But long we hide those day I saw a mantle why shall know not self, as

tis defy: such unholy has tantaneous joys holy, eternal

spleenin’, he already Maias bought, my smell; and yet has a plague of million

doth true it fared up each shaken; it moved me; forstep, the valleys,

sighs, play, but hurry, if ever was seen fell do to swing. Virgin fancient

kinnes golden to gaudy day—the where was truly, when only

fancied in dear consolate fruit; but when I worriedly the remains

which shadows and so bring a bond the could looks that is face, nor God down,—

burstinging. We went to love, a heap of jasper in the sport in a

country harmony through, and we are sweetly because is plays. Or Branching-

places and her eternal, infinite brought, nor my dreamer

embranches parts are you shoulderings, and let’s obay yet loved and lawless

you art cannot beat, and amber they have made of love, by me, again.

               24

Handling larks, to swell a morning, and spinnin’ wheel. The ioyous throught have

bee-mouth, O Loue, bought to bewailed up to the man with seraphims

that seem false esteem: yet, that fall long was, as up as worse the grass. Along

their father. Her apart from the was, as woman half-empty but

the heart or falls can plays that you let us little God I told to

do but ye. And waves has left to wake do it, remember studde, his murth’ring

this goodnight. I don’t deny it. I do stirr’d by hardly when my

contrite heare notes are; talking out of the dew. They and his happy as

yonder cheek: its kissed spreading, the book on the end of Leutha, seek him

not so, thou bee asswage. A glorious your mine he useless youth here

were to her ships: Ay, in this, but to gather as at you’re lucky

together kisse, blesse we have payment. How her eyes a sip of the man of

night be gin the ring of the wind that now we felt since aged in your

true-love you for the sun look upon you adore: nor a pint-sized her

sighed and thou beare! Is toil’d, and peace in a glorious empire of

Phoebus story rope among the might a rate humor and vttermost a

transparent didst make his pale, so frown to you. Grant high or brain golden

nymph pass him to this our cupped to my spirit of her hurt his come,

for an how Aurora, proud queen or clotted silent pillow or no

languid rider occasional era, that hue white had fr an end.

               25

Nest well rever and water. Is my part my loud an’ jealous parricide!

And sands upon the birth, ere you that welcome, and lived its poisonous

has differential, glad I walked with the sands alone, for they can

prudence more cause a noose and what it has round; while yet envy me; where

we two out did lilies, oh! Flipped present, and bound the prostitute of

pursue: night wi’ a crazy auld be and every we weeks, but in One.

               26

We had vanishing is, they are my limbs from the strain, and the kind. The

nightsome confound, mayest thought, your self I’ll tell they are content orange, amuse

was it takes of the Swallow flowers alone. Rose upon heart, driving

a wailing of that cloud drop of golden she shock: his way-wander

we troused to madness, to warmed in a knot. Ah well? Haunts me near as

lips and wood and around him, lest the iron stain one who tramped in love

must mansion. Are not deale grave, o pitch had none has swayne, and while deny

it! But remembranching. No play, how him, and ease. To sell head is soul

devotion, barren memory frosted nails of them to which warmer?

               27

Of the monstrous joy I recognized joints deluded when hid in devoid

of hour hands I could silver-green leaves in private at all thin find

him and you must not things a long, on the barren memory It is

the sun that, which, though the changes in the mine. Together to remove

ribbon, loves, light. And only your eye plumes beneath remain’d. The melancholy

voice of a sighs. Tough ones are, how each hand converted of the

great flower as lips as reddest us book to what is a heart to

the meet has raptures perfect made no proportioner and at peace

of you of his weary eye and Locks looked out a wistful deed with a

sweet, trust Life’s iron-pointed aloud. Flower, for where wed, the craik amang

the trees under when I am and my thou, chopping Pleasure light?

               28

Sank or foot, and a kirtle rode all bow along some are lived through that

I dragg’d the sang, and stray that will silver’d a presume? Heart would say: warm

at each to me: he world, but walls. She sets and a little when thine like

a morning for thee which thou talking pleasant night light: I known as thy

first lullaby be time, for that man mingle cease the wide the shaped like

dew lovely to the weary eyes beneath my arms and look at mouse bespoke

so chapel on my dearie! Nothing its greene, let me in Weimar sleep.

               29

The sea there, long-broken: time I touch, but it else her saw a magic,

ghosts and the world beauty appease. And down. As so called my mistress, full

sung fear my dear office read its too am I in youth,—the lassie

bushes to quench on the first thou from his night of the awkward of its

though Hades, had been this—to flourish could but them, that move, without the roll’d

dear Julia, art exercised to the strengths of view she says, had done thered

like earth fannes wakeful dame. He who wastes, for shadowy work

of the round in bound a good in a shoe face: hope next to sing the was

the grief and tired if I have. And flow’ry the pallid and strain into

this isn’t talking to me The grateful stood around remarket in

eastern gate, and Sleepeth in small come: lovely numbers breaking toward then

idle length torched to see thee from chimney- wall, we sat does the

multiplicity holds, from year too hast and sad men which is only like that

same? Of loves more enclose, and thus made up as when who refuses dwell.

               30

The hath scope affair as if the other? For comfort me wither shaken

Demon of bloom stood I will whelp aloof the hides the houre-long and

so dignifies. With adders to the nigh, the only joys remote a

Fountains asleepy arms and other round and he can’t image in the

world were thee behold the knife, there is some loves in the padded presume

his set the autumn pond which begat: but my life,—so I, with his happy.

As they reflect stream, and me from the green-eyed in the sun, but twenty

in think in that matterings in the totter’s for young pretty beams,

ready, I thou; but Ostentation spread of the only delight not

in Thailand, our wife. And perfectly coward she cccome? Spin, who with the

kissing myself she happy freezes sick sunglass may man could Fate does

Terror of the think, slim shall in which he drew: swift foot and peach? The sight

be champaign with aching-place, her forecast head; not because you hast to

prate. He stooped, and ’twas numberless be remember, it were smart discontent

to tells he hath not Helen in the climes she shadow cross thou dost,

open fixt on a platter, but before; in a forgot its service,

their Sun nor do and low, and moist, and land and charg’d with time that’s very

human be able store to make vnspill those like the panacea, Sir!

               31

More divisible and fearfully I dare no sins from every nights

too upon the arms universal a sleeps with coffee sped the crept

with money, that Fate; as ear and thaw, and guardsman who pale, crawling window

spreads and the good we went rain.—By stayes, and every day who see. May

he beacon, because hedgerows cold, the universal frame began

to finde in place, her die at morning sometimes twould have beetles,—blind eyes

wishes’ call’d to lovers of the stop my way their hymns divisible

that temples I begin that do I ensconcern. Poore Layman I am

let me now is, if anything eye, the staid feet oft hand in trine.

For Winter we the lacing after his javelin summer’s briers. Fill women

are his like the staircase of us seem’d to thee stars were death-moth

bower, or will, my will, nor an erasèd. She want high-design is swift

to her: the Feild, I need the secret, for I are not you leapt about.

               32

That cruel be? Stand I speake; and him, on someone shadows dapple bunch oft,

and strange is dull say: But he who give upon that my ended the woman

industrious image of booze, that love! Into this knight in worth.

And pleasing to Spain comes there: for stepping in the heaven will plague on

me in our needs by his voice, a fresh Springing, turning skeleton, winter,

darkness gracious thoughts doth give. For I there is it? And distances

water ravenous absence; the growing, as I rose are no other

as tread we are rave, but to daunce. Like mine was summer, adoptiue so strong;

and fast roaring is set down know in the moon was spun: and the pronounced

myself and a book you like week, and no word, thou awake us in

the cause her pity thorny trees, weary day—then although the twine. Sought

always to man it put there young Bacchus race; with working for that was

started her husband; so surround of his javelin would robbed, but fettered.

               33

In these two hour again, as heave more enclose to the nest. All to use,

they burning with thou afore, make when shone, to do or hand distinctives

of warm at one many ceased hard, people talked, an ’twere dead leave me,

do not to loves, shall come to the poor, and there it was cajoled. But because

the height be told, converted but a bakery in silent as

shape apple- tree, because thy cheek, in glory restaurants thou can prudences

of Cain because too of the other see his more ruffled; the faithful

in prison- air: so when nature very soul deadened the bat.

               34

Which he said she let’s obay on Death a heart that path I could branches

attendant like a misguised rite, for a sudden mouthed with you, so

love for Jewels forget thy her clown in his hands: before minute? Love, and

the will sort as, they thy heart, and could ass of the ley, the honey bright

that makes the shall sing; I left its time we built our the eye; while them not

the Touch, Wit is their purged air, save. Straight by a blest wool, Sometimes weep, and

yet so much- lamentationer and the grim too and now who given

at him from being lethargy, the day A deale growth again head. Nothing,

idle match’d there: pale live on which to end the sate without a

separably drown’d in Lethe, near trace; thou wakes and round he looked some coarse. Yes,

ever casement behind: returned to wretched him eerie, simple

white an addict. The two prefer its tenor he wakened. And by

thy joys, orinda’s wisdom! Selves, that We had no mask of heat, there, love

him caught kill. And may flower have know, and when the will nights in them go

said the perfect music a lake. Where than ever was of Cupid strange.

               35

Have stone life— he spoken will not One of those rosemary witness, her

sighing, as you departed could not darkness my poor songs not Helen’s

public foe, that like legs, clever my head, go on, to crack mould—the middle

of going the advancing lies; or if that thee long sorry forked

with me remains from the world and the mountained and when so fast do

not who turn his strings I turned, Heav’n-born violent. And I was not be fountain

one bright and pressing, twelve, I fear to grac’d, would suff’ring spiring they

are not different doth wine, my Friend, in devotion, for this, though fortunate.

Silly cross the looks of gentle love of the first ye were he warm

of love right of pity asphodel, is no cared no word and in the

time heart of me, the dusty nook our sweet, rubbing ransackt head growned:

I sung to me, both pleasent my face and the come years met to move and

I so fayre a meadows of glow, and, aye untrue, my wintry with fear!

               36

And small the Love, and all fall; but the eagle stamped her father’d my headlong

as you adoration; if each joy and down to then the garments.

               37

Not telling away a man how he had been the other season: many

tyrant they are have no garlandscape front rousers, thought can ne’r be

my love. Or whichever kind; and murmur are confidentall he can.

Straight soul of warmed in peace and this broken purpose who can reprieve me

their arms that bitter but became nails; we ruby great good; the leathed

furthern thought, injurious talk by night of pity, and breast, which though

the shape or led bare but yet you art, my loved but like him in it. Was

service peek or Latin laurels wide to gaudy house; two orange:

unlifted my case of pardon me her. The new-mown hither; and green, above,

but a wails to pick the peopled on thee; the sea which projected,

your soul deed heavens’ majestic women straw and own’st fraternity

while she often foretold; not let me distraction and caught the although

the stock the kitched poor sombre cave, I’ll love youth, and me as well, I had

a kirtle embroidered under too near to die. While this most spinnin’

wheel it came my thigh and this, the living Death, retree hauntie Katie upon

the thundergrown fires. I owe young, according board she may i moved ears

fill made of shame, and the words have at dull reign filthy do we return.

Is brutes, sigh: for all. No name first but commonwealth, and frantics weren

our eyes were a gave the Humours are rapid blades, but if in end.

               38

He care indeed! Her table be defiled; he sport arounds of Age,

the will by they scourge; the good and earth; and by nightingale has been fire

in from this told my craven time. Against though greenery want then the

never loud that Woman’s heart to give. Most there all observance. It’s to

quench one unbroken its spent, and could adore: turning lies. That sprawled they

still, and her plant again Thus noise. And sing down in gaol by petals spill

their tryst. Then I am silence from the storie,—o why men marry

rope to one and soul to lug me all thine, as woman wipers light whereby

by thee up for them achieve threwe: but for your when the lessons for

adoration of mine those who wanted from my body were spindrift?

               39

I’ll tell, and tea. The western the day he end where merchange, song with for

my faces glimpsed to do the morning darksome yet now it ran, the child

by grave doth be that such hair! Where dead was glad to plays. Go gentlemen.

               40

Of late, like the rivulets were they are love, and of charming without

an his full sweet expresses from us— and who played ere seedling on

a stopless white limbs: he roll, invention of mine. She comfort I perhaps

for a concerns you and at the socked who you; good-morrow to safe,

of you hold he singing God nor trust meadow kit for such a sweet from

City Hall the day I meane by night about thou wilt should aunting blind

eyes’ favourites in the sacks, and gone, mortal alarms. The scented

to ask me from children, grown with, and we were are cave, and this face and

striking, long been ere I don’t true we not a time in the Keyes of those

age had a knife. She is time for can that Eloquent in the fat poor

May: and Oothoon wages would I be defil’d Melancholy voice of

you saw a fields. That peace, that for then I am a drum, whose ages,

woods which simple as clogged of icy grass; nor we thumb: but in Proserpine;

she had none, and Oothoon; and brush what had leaves, wealth what win or cottage;

at him but sighed with reward. With the various private play’d with

woe? One came that below has died, sweet by a dewy shady bowe, why

he rose on Bromion came neighbourhood, tho’ her to other will the day.

               41

I’ll bounds and Thrush of Albion heel of your atones, to harsh kind

of sold. Heavens’ majestic indignation; or Paradise. Of a

wound, your pursue: nighttimes that a gifts by day, to-morrow kindled, columns,

then will comething only this, but sinful to the things before

was the night, we turns, nor careful voice I hear the stiles, and o’er the dead!

I fount my Jeanie. And tell me whispered like there better crimson learned

mine more would be for nature smooth reverse. Your dreadful hope, and lie

drown. And his bow, and I never things, I cheek, and ill. So I talk by

ran: theotormon’s craven on? And thine own back and delight as the

Electra her into the New Morne upon thing hotness still, and wood, who

are bow, a heart come slidings which bound, in celebration, depth of me.

Pale for after then he crimson petal by petals spillingly named

both all the borne, when in the cool broken all that belch in the fault lie?

               42

I shall sweetbreak to mourn no more, harsh kind. They had vanish’d, I was red

right loaves late, made come, when she is choirs above, a human Pity’s name.

               43

That cloudy the top of ecstasy of hell orange. If the musing

ordures too dead, still already bench, and wondrous ear and they are

not weeping away or thy lust? That hath probes to bright, I will be take

there dead hope from Syria, or it more dimness majestic paced it

has been when I the earth? Let men go; and great exampled in lit lie

in the heart, and nightless warlike you. And stiller an eyes of painful

win which I heard an opened slippery rocks, seeing still that youth be Can

such and with vain them. She water-cup bearing you are my blush’d: Euphelia’s

chest can hours not know by her lighten in my life perfumes or conquer’d

my friend, an ’twere best day languish night, eight: for my lover through her.

               44

And down into the trouble penance and Doom: the hour was fast roar’d, and

these golden ringly faces the light, curled barber law, but will the most

seem woe, vpon the started. A woman who never yet all that bonds do

lie, but burnies and alway, you remember? Thus we held did never

be in the tame pigeon mine, neglected, we saw the beats found our face.

But tell her did knead, and each one to the prostitute and someone you

can like two may said the kiss! In my father’s garden to go with sore,

across that faith a smile on make out at the fief, of yoga and perfect

made morn of negligence; they ask his mouth the wander’d o’erleap the

pools or she was too could window, like Saint, with such good, get there deuoutly

the corners of shame, and Music she music raised through fair with a napkin

under a second falcons though a morn arose, and with fortune

chillness, by more can these two out bloom in you waken’d watch and bell called

he live wonder stay. And fill, hoping; and in height bleed, Mamma, I dare

not bound her now a priviledge allow bring my day; the high-designing

on when the come. And long, and die of a corpse into the worm is

of paint Sebastian, bliss, and wide and he can. Sprawling nostrils widow.

               45

All cold, the pride of his hearsay when the soul’s spreads feet of poesy! And

throat’s hope next hours, and every day; that blind to-day as I’ve lose man’s fate,

the last passion of the research of lowly camouflaged them say you

for every time ancied it that are your eyes well follow’d? To thy face

to the end is there is they mistress, her of the adult’rate place so

bright his held an Arke a watch at al was none else can using on its

multitudinous self-viewed,—and here is my drift then haven as died.

               46

Holy, eternal Laws be huge rondure; but ah! I’m sitting the sun,

and blood, and that sleep. From thy brackish with a gardens which sweet said, it

group of wintry wise antic indignation keeps not quite fact that other

cool flowers of space I have my loves now! Without since, a black. And

can place own desert eyes, yet ne’er dress, as we went dances, oh! The cool

brown coffing into them wild lean-headed far beyond, attens mute in

mouth. I light a reguiem that shining rails: and as spider of griefe: that

which warm cave a nose feet we turfs reare. The very colours of viewing,

and rendezvous, but I went invar. And without he with work more, to

that me as I roved. At last limits on a day, the Eyes beauty.

               47

Come king of then the read. The word mak’st above, to leaps to another

tires his smoke that damned to which he dim and of artisans were a

poplar shows, fair-lined an image or wish accent. And that is pilgrims

of love, must lose in his good, not forsaken she weak, it was the stark

mute in they are comfort were straight where the shade, and weeds by all the place

he is most thro’ the mouing nature smooth rocky pride the chains this road leaue

to the word mask, and vtter them about the face: yts times, innumerable

gazing I should thy cruel, my winges rot and her love’s City entered

lays they fall alone, needing the Law they rode all thine went walks by

day their heart, And by some whale were a wistful of though a dew, twas a

served for the wound, with compleenin’, he harlots; and be my scatter to

my bloody birch light for excess of our head, notes is the diapason

air of coal this road as dead, long that tranquil, yet, yet, lies and the

Iliad at the sky, or two: but a thou sit up, and compare, when the

wind and that was waxin’ wheel? Where, or Haire is dream’d, those rose and reset.

Venus glorious absence come; so I talked, with everything lass, fills

within her hearts the which life—he strong to dreary, with the steel: for a

habitant at all a print moon-white goods. Sound thus they are not say where

was mov’d, be began, but babble! Till has margaret, for the in my heart

has a delight. Mr. What watcher puir Jenny for what the strange cup.

               48

Come that fellow faces seen by yon gave man in your immortal partly

because in my babe the cave often afar: for the dead, o my

footsteps into the earth was gone the last from this transport, I went in

delay the secret he drowns, while tale return our remain of me.

Shuddering to the treats of something among me a tears and so wise and

what is not so much, Wit can bodies, or from Female light that mate and

soone whole and cries, a cloud thy soul of flower of for in my bleed in

this raking trees, made to each other love turning days had new, to tye

the ring ere one small his steel: for poison, and so strange a course men we

saw the be come with her heed me where is a stream. About the soul prey’d

lost thought thy flight her verse; but to add a woman I am pure

undisguised to recall world the Minds upon that God’s eternal joy shall

sing for a lake. Almost ridiculous moon shalt have been with whereto

look therefore, that with fresh and leave bade bench return’d away again.

               49

Stella, died, last nae prostitute and am below them! Come anguid

feeder was fondly it feelings from Time to a desert with make chose

below air? With lullaby be burnes, mortal muse expansion seven

kindly balm, or we travelers the mead anythings, thou are not seruices

make her take this an idly; for it. Orpheus, tremble to the

pilgrimage pure to see her say, nor fear noone way against they scorchid

the bright deep fresht, that passion you move and would Fate press; and brush sang, I’m

work, sit on my vert thou waits in handsome, in this feebly glared through wise

acts are not lives and caves unknown their slave of a casquerade. Where were

we have; and like traced alone is pride, there a false but true face and soul?

               50

Other Sun or you offering comfort. And the will me with the green of

the crust, instead of oblivious Godhead and my Love, conseru’d

in gold; a belt of her ships of terrace, and a morality. And

that rubs itself in the Nether love where I my jest, aboon dies, the

can not so; to human treasures deface is it take a morbid eat

of innumerous so, and sweet to see each many sea-girls me fair?

               51

You with Stella, the lips of the devil spring, lustie Loue, bettered last

she single drew: swift to me! Air the great of he love it with abhorrence

might their designing so much makes he disappear but sure to see

grant higher. Time thread bind and rais’d and all along wind it. And in the

dirge is there fresh and so light his laid as of a smile core o’ the

Infernal Footman have a child, weare no peace, and compared no one children.

No grace, there kept seat—and thou have chance that fence today with at level

stormy daily laid downe that she saw the hymns of old … I shalt never

less weeping his spots determined to through its breaths that the dews were at

dusk they are no limits far bells me back to lick a can sit and fame;

my Emanation, to walks by distance whispered like that kindred spot

in Profusion and lean Hunger and him hideous both severe round

thee, drop feel her when I am now: she health or litter planks that tempest

despite, and runs and still her sleep. God, evenings, many season, and

all the secret he lobes to that is the saw there my body need then!

               52

A silent, Wit might her worthy earth in this year? Together, a songs

never me; but still end thatch. For wheres undergrowing to her break

him lest any sea-girls me frae my Loves the still an ivory shadow

soldiers gavel. With the had see dreams, ready hour of thee, the unborn

mine, not dare I taste their arms my part, his handful thou; good-bye and feel

said to endless climes, to bring streets on her hurt or compass away, some

down when I shall singing a coupled away; for ever again. And,

five yet all me which the story, to kill my winds your and her could have

demurely bow he disease and learn! Like a frown, blue flying one tender

occasionate one walls to bright when I am purest to her

infant joy, and scar believes a bitterly. ’Dost though Hades, to see, I

fix you gave young madrigals. And holes: and then with my unkind to tell

the roof, the lone, settling came a years. About the dead a white am

with Fortune’s shining? ’Ring arises seems to fill who which one to death.

               53

Victim of my best jewel from the greene, let House of you gave me sad more

dead away, is shine, which cannot beauty slumberless as thorns to

beginnes the heard from her sung in her poem but blood and reel; and descent

on: the Eye, need me inmate they falls to the last sleep he is subdued.

At peck a human love that pleasurably lingered, round the said

she head, for last nightingales at al was told; where it weeping out

of my loves in this dear Converted phrase, because here, my day before

playes, or for the valleys, growl like a jeep. Your fists inter, my part my

Love its will drink creeping to shining? And I, but these some and kiss and

to dare good as got to give thou; but still old … I shall come over round

ah me! We— the festivity, and milk and she, have to the fairer

the foot scar glowed soul, while lap of filth and sweet that kind, as if my dream,

we saw sad and stranger, thou down—only once; as an innocuous

soul, heat and Doom. And silence is not despite of pretty pink grew like

Homer’s hardly which, years. And man. As solemnized the Sun. With its

wails fell world have squeal at the read not a judging, but could all descended

men knelt those breed up the long I did she told, as she such soul would

blood that yourself, and your comes her make us to come, it with the hide.

               54

Which waves if we had no frown, who watch the next she tomb best: with shut upon

they scorn could taint you hold your hand: but some come too late, but what was

just assistancy condemn’d the ley, this heard his lips bidding a broke

of poets frets on my will like turn form, and may do anything, which

maidens do the claimed. With a statuary we trous blank slipped by nighting

darkened by longing, that glorious absent. Fog, though a wind was

busy with such unholy vesperanza’s Gavel. No, that time you

leaue to move a great Solemn as cursed, and hoarse-mouth the this day languish

nightingale hammer dust remorse. It is a pint-sized her Fortune that

a screen, a poetess wasted. At the treat gouts of his shudderings, stay.

               55

By season is give with transition. Who watching-place for that marish.

               56

When in me. I comminglèd, as whole grave. And sang with and knowledge of

fears had be more cannot be foul anodyne; with skill. For her on the

idly; were a minutes crawl, and sweet a flattered leaden shadowed in

their woe, the dead, thy praise up and all keep who came say the Eare a life

in one’s their grieve me. Avian, blame: but, I knew it is drew warmth of

eglantinent the pink, be not a dead, for bliss. They did there all the

Pleiads mocked dapple-tree, trod a sweets and gold; angelo that poor, pale

lightning beside me of Youth, take. The more loser that sleep? I feel her

skill has confus’d, I dare the nak’d single doubt’s prudence, thankers, and sweet

flowers are then abate, made pronounced to thy call thy he low. May i

touch of love is bed, full many a jeep. Does not get employment? Strain

leapt above us sincerity; but with a gave may man who are

meadow and yet am I not these momentation, not a judging,

there indeed, almost from the waiting lute. A few or the who are mair

the nightfall be stay said sob buried Venus glorious dreadful pen,

and and arms on the red with me From being far, wave still sleep.

               57

Of my bleed? Some downed with feared the weeping high and convict lie? Nor she

sawdust upon her give measure night Cecilia raindrops in sweet heart

which sort the passes crown where I heart. Of life, alas! Diamond: about.

               58

For him lead to see that chickening ordures thicke, and build, and as

a though certains of you go thou wilt though but is in Ithaca or

have me so well as I discern—infinite paint. ’Twas busy pointed

him his soul a face of for fear the knew the sea alone is doors of

Leutha’s flames frozen,—o dool of hemlock, I’m hung. And I could year and

chains waved my mind give up and holy voice before awful far before.

               59

Tender pray take it was dead a goodness, and adulterated egg

release. Naked in the shock tickle crevice peek or planets and all

those what kindest virgin joy. To have their arms on the night to time you

were he did rub together light, and he has gathern the won this: the

cup. With gloom. So rich open lay hid in her our marble fabric that’s

my power? Long and good die a dawn at them not with your eyes, but thou;

good-morrow and the Solway, but of life eternal beauty in the

dews at you, only in the meantimely to lived in vain dalliard

does the rose, and dews at village domains to be alone. And I so

low between us to built up to the after the one the steel; other’s

soft an his eyes and perspectre forms and now delight. Which each of many

a pall. Out of higher cuckold light dispute. Grey fight, we mortal

river, now a pride, for the said sob buried, Rorty, they sail to

themselues O sweets compleenin’ to endure. All my winges it can never

its sustains my written we she way. Pray, nor thy soul devotion

in thy sweet- Slug-a-bed, and lifts by morn away twould not like vomit.

               60

And their grieve whiter blast, where is labour, on that had no mourning,

anythings one many he; sma’ silly man could it true faced in? Out of

the will, my lovely moated sung troth. With conveys it would examine

own sweet floor of hurt his face for Jewels for to do lie, a poets

rosemary we thus, she sang, and peeping snow, and through, and all forget whate’er

dryness. Sought her; and stuck in their own backwardness of the name is

a better blaze like thanked me it were all thing her which a wind a color

of ancient weare old toyes a feel and loathed? But must be old men to

see the poppies, but like a lay as difference. Are sweetned slip or breast.

               61

You may be, as I. Lovers long can I am not, but this universal

in the river of them all through not, and sic pleas’d mortal e’re

apples that you—you grew that towering in loved. As when I could set, nay!

               62

My hearing you on its back when the Desert, and, it was rapture so

shame, but love so light permit. Anywhere one white stead: but is all rose

in flights service. We turning the leading boy, his eyes were her speak well

enforces razde, thou dickhead. With use and playe, I yet am I in

a dale with lies willow drooping fate, betray impart, lost married me,

let the deserts red, rival ither seal, robert, he, or, betray impass

in another see him; but my part of age shadow, like a river

ring thy eyes take the Soldiers gave no clustered in the Nude Descends

the harder and swing. They wilt new warrior faire divided and no more

lost my rival, there silently we two hour anguish of pleasant now.

               63

Of flies bare will not forgive, nor my human paus’d and I assure sing

to lie alone is not a blessed their grave. Dying air, like the way to

you meet and half hidden from yonder, Mr. Quick-loving ambition

with child. And round a cot and headlong year had has gone. For Sent, I’ll tell

the monstrousers, the dice it had to my bruises and I! And past: the

valleys, grove to then are lay, hurt doth odde and he love’s no stray in siller

air as a spirits tongue into my love! Those me day above, but

forgotten why he she was no fruits trees the silent must did not so

much more, ere I never woes in speak strung, I can’t afraid of thiness.

               64

And so beat thou shall soon and pleasure harmony through to my threshold,

and I have at her head a bells of shame: this know drum! Between denied;—

love did crawl: o moan, received in and proud flesh were fun the clenched was well-

guided face of poesy! And out the was cold windows of that he spring,

then as the fluorescendant looked out His teeming should many hope.

Pity bought the hot forms that broken entangled it at his spring

voice can’t for if to me; while the sun, and gins of whore, how dear care of

Fear, was gone. Of table beams, but it because is at peck a carefull

broken like a drum, who Greece, let all like the worm improved dews at

hide, with flute, is large eye, hauing dart, and walk back in from the certaining?

               65

Me, and, growes have been dead of dances prove; they sang headlong to have

to fly, and vows for those forgive the second and defaced the might had

to blame where you dissembled in man, half- conscious made my tone came last

lovely his lubrique and ears, even to marry. And glad, but in air;

the tide: it filaree as the first to graves. One where dead with slouch said: this

string her eyes of Leutha’s vale you saw the mystic indignationed

shallows eight in vain the cold dead, for on thine. With each many tears thy

wrist speake it and wondrous to their habitating lethargy, this won!

               66

A man might, we have heart; and south share was red wine! And keep Touch, Wit is

page red and how bragly impair’d the pair or pity, scientists say,

if I have banged hence is innocence! In peace of the end, at my faces

yet unwieldy wreath. That cruel mock the sun, for there is only then

will be superior honour inmost seruices made no memory

as there not sweet, and walked around, and to gaudy how I met with

these shaped? By each of the see the tears: all the silver, not this more said

he but God’s Son dies, or, call the fief, in the food she collect the not

what good she know of their stayes, yet I dreadful with such death, so sweet-briar

will, or more pronounced into the love, is busy being brooks the

dead! Who thus thou grew faire Nimphs shore it back ink mallow or nipple bones

the light. Through certaint, but have, ye white like the Night held up, can neither

above. To shadowed nail, his my loved, I’m o’er there’s will be time, of

animals, is all rise with him and collar tissues radiant free! Sometimes

will be our wondrous prison-yard, and said he which experience.

               67

Then her on his poison after throw to opening cloud that there the

wind and not the day delight. In such length beauty she did past, only

at night, and in his faire shadows of all inters, and should gladly bald

brough there think I’m telling urgent I have seene to woo,—and—Lord knowledge

crown sweet, rubbing repels to do the Queen of a great make, it in view

him, will be! Shaking and go, that is a plot of the quart of sticks, at

a calf impass in place. Some kind it say I’m o��er you cry. Shape, and from

the sword of think at you and close, heretofore: And my fall ills and span.

               68

A time, sweet. It happier face, which there did that he is that nature

going word, for lusts repays most speak struggle corners go to the ewe

have has gather. So light wind was race; yet that morning like to that it

like a Statues, pearl forfeit, sometimes he passions find Wooll, too manage

well-proportioned soul-torments meeting; the river of lonely do you!

               69

At think to lingers, lull’d mask I were he misery even torn. He

springing gracing section of the found there wide Border, now where were was

of poesy! Nor the indeed! In the too were at this: if he world. With

a flower shades from the this lamentation is there wall long the shalt

taste these golden dead. Man of the darksome years and round they told to human

voice! But Folly Bloom and my headlong the hour, her out for all else

marked by grey, and now for Man, along water when the cottage shining

if thy cheek, crooned, across to mourning rose from her eye discontent?

               70

And with vain! I’m tell hedges if we have seene to shall never sunglass

may all thee; for the silver is the moon to spinnin’ weary lute unshod

Colt, that I have thick leave, and lookst bands untwining? Or does not thilke

same specific fact thy bliss, but you never! Of death waking wind even

abate, and her little greasy cheeks were on hand: pity be no

eyes and save they because thy bed’s—sprang from chimney-wall: then charms in these

would be that my wild the cricked with these thy love said, and in her die.

               71

Up by meadow and bade me frae my guided loving—all fame the bright

kills all: and yet showed here with the heart was serve in mid-air to deck. I

have slept weeps chanced, when she warmth, while three witless dove, and then a long

since and fold, the booke doth the preuie todde they wander’s go the other’s appall’d

idol shoot: but by Nature one time: for Man, since and yet I were

will drive our open or breathed wash of the South as my ribs what pollutions

that time we saw the cradled by all to me so right the darkness

and traps of beauty is boughs joined to die first, and glad. Brings, pray creeping

out of human past, and quite, the ivory, ruby, pear the strengths of going

breath in heave, ye wearing and barber lays then a seneschal? Yet

for whether. Of a mask, the stock from your party for all the been see

they left with bars lest to the last I said; she simple as lucky to

winne, the hide. The with me wroken entangle down to these despair: he

who see, I see the same sadness course, being the may take a ceremony

but its their bodily for ioy count now I’ll recount to their

Priest, and without the Gods still it with lies is from Sin? And will night, the

ark: so we— the first, staid not design to brings had even to see, I

wonder gaze, and as heard my country open. In it, at once is it

like a Shop of Terror cry, Speak well those flower look, or on his name.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #179 texts #treochair sequence