#also the sugar plum fairy could be one of the eight fairies. and something with the nutcracker and toy island maybe????

[orions-garden]

DROSSELMEYER was in the caravan and now CLARA the horse and they’re in the SNOW and the PEOPLE are TINY and

#I’m a neverafter nutcracker truther 😔✋ #brennan don’t blow this for us #also the sugar plum fairy could be one of the eight fairies. and something with the nutcracker and toy island maybe???? #anyway those are just my conspiracy theories #it’s all coming together guys don’t worry about it #‘I connected the two dots’ ‘you didn’t connect shit’‘I’ve connected them’ #NUTCRACKER4LYFE #dimension 20 #neverafter #dimension 20 neverafter #my posts

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesdaypost year in review

this year brought to you by viewers like you. thank you! i still do not know how to thank everyone for their incredible generosity during the Late July/Early August Moving Catastrophe Badtimes and im still feelin some kinda way about it. thank you.

took eight weeks completely off, more than any other year so far

overnight traveled for work for the first time

moved cross country with Mack to face dangers untold and hardships unnumbered

bought an actual for-real couch and not a futon

got Phil

(unrelated to Phil) i got spayed after almost ten years of begging and pleading various medical professionals, (also unrelated) got covid and RSV back to back

listening

fallow weeks: 8. i almost always have a tuesdaysong bc i am almost always listening to something. all of the tuesdaysongs are here:

particular favorites were Peel Me A Grape (Anita O’Day), top spotify song of the year Yeah Yeah Yeah (Blood Orchid), Yeah Yeah Yeah’s Wolf remixed by Sextile, Father Finlee (Spence Hood), A Minha Menina (Os Mutantes).

the very last tuesdaysong of the year is Sugar Rum Cherry by Duke Ellington, one of the few christmas songs i tolerate.

special shoutout to the austin underscore walker universe of podcasts, bc i mainlined A More Civilized Age (clone wars/star wars rewatch) while packing, and devoured P/alisade (the newest scifi season of F/riends at the Table) this month.

-

reading

fallow weeks: 11. pleased that i am killing the invisible rules in my head and including more articles instead of feeling guilty about Not Reading A Real Book!!! every week when i sit down to write the tuesdaypost. read a fuckton earlier this year bc i was procrastinating moving prep, have not read much since i moved.

article sources:

inoreader (the best free RSS feed/app imo)

The Markup (gold standard usage of data to show how various technologies are being used to harm the public good: you may have heard of the recent American bills to equalize internet service and fix organ donation grift. that was them)

Web 3 Is Going Just Great (crypto disasters)

404 Media (technology reporting, internet culture, also break a lot of data/legal/privacy scandals)

Remap (formerly Vice's video games division Waypoint, more active on podcasts and twitch but do have great personal essays about gaming longreads)

Retraction Watch (an important academic service but platformed a particularly virulent transphobe and let the comments devolve into a free for all. yes im still mad about this)

Krebs on Security (~once a month extremely long and thoughtful infosec writeups)

Data Colada (cover academic data whoopsies, currently being sued for their journalism)

the two authors i spent the most time with this year were Alexis Hall (romance novels and novellas) and Raymond Chandler's noir detective novels. i read 90% of Raymond Chandler's work in march and went insane about yet another sad bisexual man. Philip Marlowe the cat is named after his pet detective, the human Philip Marlowe.

march was kind of a banger for this category bc in one of what i consider the best tuesdayposts this year, i tried to break down why i fucking hated Frank Miller's Sin City comics so much.

other comics, but ones i loved: Spy X Family, Berserk, weird noir DC miniseries The Human Target.

-

watching

fallow weeks: 10

notable stuff i watched for the first time (according to letterboxd) that will stick in my head for a bit. some (The Night of the Hunter) i am so glad i watched once but do not feel the need to revist. some (Slipstream) fascinate me with how good they could have been. some (Twilight. all of them) were fun bc of the people i watched them with. the two i went particularly deranged over are The Big Sleep and Day of Anger. still feel very normal about them.

very heavy on crime and courtroom films this year!

television: very excited for s2 of Blue Eye Samurai, Interview With The Vampire, Spy X Family.

i should loop back and finish Black Lagoon, Adventure Time (completely forgot i rewatched most of that this spring), and The Big O. that last one is throwing me a little bc (since i last checked) there is no freely available version with subtitles (i cannot find subtitles Period) and i'll be damned if i have to import a dvd. i can find the dub with subtitles but! i want to hear spike spiegel as mecha-batman :(

sort of lukewarm eh-i'll-get-around-to-it about s/tar wars shows. i have not watched a/hsoka At All or wrapped up the animated Resistance show. i'll pay attention when ando/r is airing again.

-

playing

fallow weeks: 10. way fewer than i would have guessed!

the trouble with this category is that it is exceptionally hard to find new good games (either ones i already own or ones that are free). it is almost completely prohibitively exhausting to trawl through the free category on steam. there's simply a lot of cruft out there. a very good thing (but also incredibly timeconsuming thing) i started this year was throwing games into various folders so the eight bajillion libraries i have are less overwhelming. i can safely ignore 80% of my epic games library, for example. the itch.io library is a whole separate weekend project i think.

got back into genshin for good or for ill, which took up most of the back half of the year.

go play ABZU. i am no longer asking.

i would like to go back and finish the RPG Gamedec, un-softblock myself in the RPG Weird West, and finish the visual novel Dead Man's Rest. i think i stalled out in Call of Juarez: Gunslinger bc there was a mexican standoff that my reflexes are simply not fast enough for/too much to pay attention to. i am excited to pick up that spooky fishing simulator DREDGE when i have fun money again.

completely forgot i spent most of jan/feb/march being annoyed at fallou/t 4 but having some fun in Far Harbor, also forgot i spent an entire month playing through Wolfenstein: The New Order but i am not compelled to play through it again. it was fun! but like many games after one playthrough my time with it is done!

-

making

fallow weeks: 17 (unsurprising, pretty low energy year as a whole as i recovered from covid rounds 1 and 2 and the frankly insane stress of moving).

wrote exactly one fic: some matters at the heart of cowboy western snap shirts: why they are so and some of the implications of their being so, i would like to write more next year but i don't really have the brainpower. i hope this changes soon.

the baby blanket i started last year is still not done but the baby is still under a year so i have a very narrow window of time.

dyed some couch covers im still very pleased with

wrote an extremely long but very well received gallery wall guide

recipes: 12. sort of shocked by this? i am becoming an incrementally better cook and slowly finding recipes i both like and can successfully execute. found the fortitude to caramelize onions, for example. quick pickled red onions, for another thing. big year for protein or greens on top of beans and rice. faves included: cuban-style pork shoulder, hellofresh peruvian chicken, red lentil soup, white bean/kale/rice bowls

i would like to be less terrified about cooking fish. i would like to eat more fish.

and of course, the biggest project of all, acquired Phil. here is my very favorite photo ive ever taken of a cat

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 66 - The Christmas Party

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 2,920

Summary: A vision reveals a disturbing secret

Also available on Yatorihell AO3

Yato kept an eye on Hiyori in the week following the cursed necklace, more so whenever she had separate classes from Yukine. He took note of Hiyori’s timetable and, whilst escorting her to every class would come off as weird and stalker-y, he made sure Nora wasn’t following her when they parted.

Only in their final Potions classes on Friday did Yato feel somewhat at ease; Hiyori and Yukine right beside him, and Nora nowhere in sight. Nora, it seemed, had lost all interest in him and his friends again, but this Yato was loath to believe she wasn’t planning something.

Yato stirred honeysuckle into his cauldron mix but his thoughts were occupied as he watched Madame Kofuku glide around the tables at the front of the class. The sight of her brought guilty thoughts of not searching for the horcruxes all week, too preoccupied and brimming with worry and anger to try and subject himself to the Sorcerer’s mind games.

Yato made a silent promise to start again tonight as the final bell rang out and they left the class.

Thought Yato expected Madame Kofuku – or even Professor Tenjin – to pull him up on a lack of horcrux-finding at the end of the day, he nor Yukine or Hiyori expected three invitations to arrive in the post the following morning.

You are cordially invited to a Christmas party hosted by Madame Kofuku. December the 20th at 8PM. The party will be held in M. Kofuku’s office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

“That’s today!” Yukine grumbled. He flipped the navy envelope over in his hand and sighed. “Couldn’t she have given us more notice? We’re meant to be going home tomorrow.”

Yato shrugged, unfazed. It wouldn’t be a big event, no need to get dressed up, but it seemed from Yukine’s and Hiyori’s looks that weren’t the case.

It seemed that, when Yato saw Bishamon and Kazuma holding identical invites, it would be an intimate affair of Madame Kofuku’s favourite students, all of which were members of the Order of the Phoenix.

“Madame Kofuku did this a few years ago,” Kazuma explained. He and the other invitees had taken up residency in the library, tucked away in the back away from the few students who used their weekends to hole up in the library to study. “She thought it would be a good idea until someone spiked the punch and they’d all made a mess of the infirmary.”

Yukine snorted at the idea, propped in his usual window seat, hand resting his chin. Chilled winter sunlight broke through the lattice window behind him. “Sounds like a job for me and Yato.”

Yato, leaning on the wall beside Yukine with his arms folded, shared a conspirator’s smile with Yukine and a glint in his eye that hinted at trouble.

“Absolutely not,” Bishamon cut in before Yato could join the plot. “Madame Kofuku has invited us, so we will be perfect guests, lest Professor Tenjin bans parties altogether.”

Yato rolled his eyes with a tut before his gaze landed on Hiyori, the only person on the table facing him. He winked with an impish grin, unexpected and making her heart flip. She hoped no one noticed her cheeks warm as he looked away, and it seemed they hadn’t as Bishamon’s attention was on Kazuma.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been to a party,” Bishamon said.

Kazuma nodded in mute agreement. “The Yule Ball.”

There was a beat of silence as they recalled the winter night, nearly two years ago now yet feeling like a lifetime had passed.

“Do you think it’s a black-tie event?” Yato asked nobody.

Bishamon snorted as if he’d asked who’d won that year's Quidditch World Cup. To be honest, Yato probably didn’t know the answer to that either. “Just don’t show up in that.”

Yato looked down at himself, offended. He was wearing the jacket and trousers Sakura had given him, with one of his older, greyer white shirts. He glanced back up at her and spread his arms out. “You mean I can’t wear a three-day-old tracksuit to a party?”

Bishamon made a face of disgust and rose to her feet, her chair scraping behind her. “That explains the smell. Just wear something nice. See you at the party.”

Hiyori gave Bishamon and Kazuma a small wave as they meandered through the bookcases and out of sight, hand in hand, and sighed.

“I should get going too,” Hiyori said. She pushed her chair out more quietly than Bishamon did. “I promised Aimi and Yama that we would do homework together before we go home.”

“It’s Christmas, we don’t have homework,” Yato protested.

“Yes, we do, we just don’t ignore it as you do,” Hiyori quipped back, with Yukine agreeing from behind Yato.

“I’ll see you later…” Hiyori paused and eyed Yato’s jacket and the faded white shirt that had mysterious stains down its front. “… and please, wash that tracksuit.”

Yato pouted as Hiyori turned a corner around a bookcase and disappeared from sight. He turned to Yukine. “Good thing I still have my robes here, else I would be wearing this to the party.”

Yukine grumbled in return, his arms folded over his chest and a leg dangling from his window perch. “I hope you plan on asking her out.”

The blank look on his face told Yukine that, no, Yato was not planning on asking her out. He sighed.

“It’s a party. And we’ve just been talking about the Yule Ball. Don’t you think you should at least ask to walk her there?” Yukine spelt out.

Yato scrunched his face and ignored the quickening heat rising in his chest. Was Hiyori expecting an invitation from him? Was this turning out to be a double date featuring Yukine? No, this was a party among friends.

“What do you mean, ‘ask her out’? The three of us are going together,” Yato replied. The feigned ignorance of Yukine’s implication was equally ignored.

Yukine shrugged, unfolded his arms and swung his other leg down so he could stand. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, maybe I just won’t go, or maybe I’ll be fashionably late to the party, or maybe I’ll get there early and see what I can do about the punch.”

Yato gave Yukine a warning look that went unheeded as Yukine smirked and swaggered out of the library before Yato warn – beseech – Yukine not to put him in a situation akin to his attempts at asking Hiyori to the Yule Ball.

It seemed that whatever the case, it would be Yato and Hiyori going to the party together.

~

Yukine was nowhere in sight at the allocated meeting point at the bottom of the grand staircase, and Yato cursed him for it.

He had butterflies in his stomach and felt like a fool to be waiting in his best eveningwear waiting for Hiyori to emerge on top of the staircase the same way she did at the Yule Ball. It was made worse by the curious looks of passing students, wondering why he was dressed up and why he was trying to hide by the Great Hall’s doors.

Yukine was probably already with Madame Kofuku, despite the bell tower in the courtyard signalling it was only quarter to eight and that he had another agonising fifteen minutes to wait until he could escape the gawks and whispers of younger students.

Yato made a mental note to sabotage Yukine’s next potion for standing him and Hiyori up like this, but any embarrassment Yato felt immediately melted away when a flash of colour on the stairs told him his date, no, Hiyori, had arrived…

Looking far, far more ridiculous than he felt.

Frills and a shocking shade of pink that edged on purple quickly blurred towards him, and through Yato’s wheezed laugh he heard Hiyori say something that he couldn’t quite catch.

“Hey look, it’s the sugar plum fairy,” Yato wheezed as Hiyori stomped up to him with a pout that could put Yukine to shame. He wiped away a tear that had formed in the corner of his eye and took in Hiyori’s outfit. Not even the bow on the back of the dress could save her from looking like a questionable, trussed up dessert.

“I. Look. Ridiculous!” Hiyori seethed. She pulled Yato closer to the Great Hall’s door alcove in a bid to hide between him and the door.

Hiyori knew she should’ve packed her own suitcase, or even added a simple dress herself, but her mother’s insistence on ‘how pretty’ the dress was had worn her down. The harmless thought she had was that she wouldn’t have a reason to wear it was proving to be a fatal mistake. She didn’t even have the chance to find a new one in Hogsmeade after a laborious afternoon of Christmas homework.

Yato tried to fight his growing grin and looked at the floor, noticing Hiyori’s pumps which, unfortunately, matched her dress. A flash of a gold bracelet on her wrist snagged his attention when he looked up again, and in a heartbeat, he knew it was the same one he had given her at the Yule Ball.

“It’s not that bad,” Yato lied once he’d composed himself enough to stop himself from doubling over again.

The look Hiyori gave him was enough to silence any more complements or jibes, instead, provoking him to offer a solution to her problem. “Want me to fix it?”

“How?!” Hiyori voice was nearly a wail, the prospect of having to walk through the castle and into the party wearing a monstrosity so bad that she was ready to turn heel and go back to her room.

“Just stay still.”

Yato pulled his wand from the folds of his pocket and aimed at Hiyori, chanting a spell she didn’t recognise yet enveloped her in a shimmer of white that transcended to her dress. The frills flattened into the skirt and the colour faded into a muted pink that was akin to her Yule Ball dress.

Hiyori stared down at herself, mesmerised, whilst Yato concealed his wand once more and offered her his arm, fighting the blush that crept onto his cheeks at the fact Hiyori was gaping at him.

“Shall we?” Yato asked, and Hiyori’s mouth snapped shut. She looked down the corridor that led to the Hufflepuff dorms.

“No Yukine?”

“I think he’s abandoned us for canapes.”

“Smart move.”

“You should know something though, Cinderella.”

Hiyori looked at Hiyori in confusion, her arm in his and her hand placed atop, waiting to be taken to the ball. “What?”

Yato grinned. “The magic wears off at midnight.”

~

Hiyori was in bed way before midnight, but Yato lay awake staring into the darkness as the bell outside announced that he’d been laying in bed for two hours.

Perhaps his mind was replaying the night's events too frequently for him to fall into a dreamless sleep, but he invited the new memories as they flittered across his eyelids; Yukine’s shit-eating grin when Yato and Hiyori arrived together, closely followed by Bishamon and Kazuma. The suspicious look Bishamon gave Yukine as Madame Kofuku served watery punch with their late dinner. Walking Hiyori back to her dorm and bidding her goodnight as he did two years ago. Yukine’s wink as he watched them go.

Yato’s mind flicked back to the brief conversation about horcruxes, which has made him nearly choke on his food in a panic. Madame Kofuku had only informed Kazuma and Bishamon that that Professor Tenjin was now working with them, and what Yato’s role was now that he may be able to find the horcruxes himself. Bishamon looked wary, but there was a hint of recognition for what he was putting himself through. Even Kazuma raised a glass in thanks, making for a hasty toast to his success.

Yato rolled onto his front with a sigh, as he remembered the rest of the night again. Yukine’s insinuating wink, his insistence that he ask Hiyori to the party, and the fact he planned for the two to arrive and leave together. Yukine’s matchmaking wasn’t a distraction he wanted when he felt fool enough around Hiyori; not when those feelings may not be reciprocated.

Thankfully, he didn’t get a disappointed look when he told Madame Kofuku that he hadn’t found anything yet, omitting the fact that he hadn’t even been looking. But the flicker of Madame Kofuku’s eyes between him and Hiyori and the slightest of smiles told him that she knew the truth.

Yato sighed and buried his face his pillow. He needed to find answers.

He willed his mind to stop replaying every moment of the night until blackness rolled across his eyelids, not realising he’d fallen into a listless doze that dragged him deeper with every breath.

~

Yato found himself in Professor Tenjin’s office, but the headmaster was not in his usual place in his seat. His senses dulled to the crackle of a lit fireplace beside the large sunlit window and to the musty smell of decaying books that covered the walls in an array of faded fabric coverings. Fawkes, too, seemed to be missing.

The line between dream and vision was thin, but the fact that Yato was in his own body and was within Hogwarts, it seemed that he erred into dreams rather than reality.

Yato stepped towards the table, and though a niggling at the back of his head told him he shouldn’t, he looked over the rolls of parchment spread across the table. Yato frowned as he read through the scrolls, loopy black ink blurring and not entirely making sense, yet he could tell that these scrolls were restricted with knowledge of the Dark Arts.

His eyes danced across each scroll, to the inkpot and the large, ornate phoenix feather quill tucked inside of it. A glitter of silver caught his eye beside the inkpot, nearly tucked out of sight underneath a scroll aside from the tell-tale chain which beckoned him to pick it up.

Yato pinched the chain and gently pulled, trying to be quiet despite no one being there to hear him. He felt a heavy weight at the end of the chain dragging against the oaken table, rustling the parchment out of the way until it was free and dangling at the end of his fingertips. A polished black stone reflected his confusion back at him, inset in silver and begging him to open the clasp and reveal its secret.

The secret contained in Sakura’s locket.

~

“How would Sakura’s locket be in Professor Tenjin’s office?”

Yukine’s question hung over them as Yato slammed the compartment door shut behind him. They were cocooned in the Hogwarts Express with the sound of whizzbangs and screams outside as they set off back home for the Christmas break. He shut the blinds so they had some semblance of privacy.

“I don’t know. I don’t know when that vision was – if it was recent or a long time ago – but it was the same locket that I saw in Grimmuald Place,” Yato replied. He flopped onto the worn cushioned bench beside Hiyori and stretched his legs out until they kicked the opposite bench.

“Maybe he gave it to her years ago,” Hiyori suggested. “She was his student. Or it could’ve been her parents from when they were in the Order.”

“Or they’re just pieces of jewellery,” Yukine added.

Yato shook his head. “No. It’s like, its calling to me, and…” He knew that he’d seen the locket before. In Hogwarts. “I think I saw the locket in Professor Tenjin’s office, the day when Hiyori got cursed.”

Yukine and Hiyori exchanged a look at each other and then at Yato. So it was recent.

“How can he have it if it’s locked up in Grimmauld Place?” Yukine probed.

“I don’t know.” Yato pushed a hand through his hair. The phrase was driving him mad. ‘I don’t know’. He should know. He should have asked Sakura the first time he found it; asked what it was, asked why the clasp was stuck.

“I told Madame Kofuku as soon as I had the vision,” Yato continued. “She thinks it might be a horcrux, but why would Professor Tenjin hide it from us?”

“Maybe it’s not a horcrux,” Yukine supplied.

“It must be,” Yato shook his head again. “That’s what the vision showed me, and somehow Professor Tenjin knew about the locket and took it.”

It was impossible, what with all the charms and protections on Grimmauld Place, but the headmaster had used it himself as a headquarters in the First Wizarding War. He probably knew the house like the back of his hand.

“If it is, then we don’t really know what Professor Tenjin is doing with it…” Hiyori trailed off.

The insinuation hung over them. They were no strangers to teachers being Deatheaters, but the headmaster? After being hunted by the Ministry and other Deatheaters?

No. It was an impossibility. There would be a reason for why a horcrux had ended up in the headmaster’s hands.

Yato shook his head silently and looked out the window as the train rumbled to life and began to pull out of Hogsmeade’s snow-covered hills, lost in thought.

He refused to believe that Professor Tenjin – a kindly old man who kept him straight in his unruly years, who believed him when the Sorcerer returned, who took the blame for him when the Order of the Phoenix was discovered – was a Deatheater.

#noragami #noragami aragoto #yato #hiyori #yukine #bishamon #kazuma #yatori #kazubisha #harry potter au #hp au #in the darkness #my writing

[2sunchild2]

Day 7— Dancer Au

Yes I skipped day 5 and 6

Sue me

@daminette-december2019

Five, six, seven, eight

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Perfect.

Is what she strived to be.

Discipline.

Is what she was taught.

And tonight, she would showcase her talent in front of hundreds of people.

The Palais Garnier was absolutely beautiful. The golden details on the walls, the grand staircase, oh! and the paintings! Everywhere she looked, she found inspiration. She so desperately wanted to whip out her sketch book, but she knew she didn’t have the time.

Marinette and the rest of the ballet had arrived at four pm sharp. They had been in one of the rehearsal rooms of the palace, doing their warmups. Marinette tired not to focus on the pain burning her legs and glanced outside.

The snow slowly made its descent towards the ground. She could see a couple kissing under a streetlight, another couple was walking down the street, hand in hand. She smiled at the sight. Paris really was the City of Love. If only she had that luxury. Love was never an easy thing to come to her. She frowned, watching a third couple argue near the gate. A familiar sight, she would know.

“...nette! Miss Dupain-Cheng!”

She froze at the sound of her instructor. She slowly turned around and came face to face with Mme Dubois, who’s arms were crossed and face was stern. She could see the other ballerinas either whispering to each other or mouthing her ‘good luck’. She could see Adrien looking at her sympathetically before giving her a mocking ‘I’m praying for you’. She gave him a glare.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng. A word,” and with that, she left, expecting the younger woman to follow, which she did after a few seconds of accepting her fate. She walked out ignoring a certain Lila Rossi, who didn’t bother keeping her snickering quiet.

She when walked out, she could see Mme Dubois already walking down the hallway. She ran as fast as she could to catch up. The women stayed silent as the made their way around the palace. The stage crew had left some of their equipment and the younger girl made sure she didn’t trip on anything.

“Marinette,” her teacher’s voice sounded softer than it usually did, “do you know why I’m so hard on you?”

“Because im the lead?” She asked curiously. Mme Dubois was contstantly on her ass over every little thing she even did mildly wrong.

Her teacher gave her a deadpanned look, “because I know you have potential, you just aren’t trying hard enough.”

She opened the door to reveal the theatre, Marinette gasped at the sight. It was beautiful. The red and gold screamed at her, the stage was being set, the seats were being cleaned, those very seats would contain over a thousand people that night.

“Marinette, when I first started out, my instructor was a very controlling woman. But she cared, and she made sure we were the best of the best,” Mme Dubois grabbed her students hands, “and that’s what I want for you. I chose you for a reason. You have something Miss Rossi doesn’t. So tell me, what are you going to do?”

The question hung in the air for a few seconds. Marinette glanced back at the theatre and smiled.

€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€

“Are we seriously going to see the fucking Nutcracker?”

Damian’s eye twitched as Jason complained for the eleventh time. He was counting. Dick smacked his more violent brother up the head and told him to shut up. There was a reason Dick was his favourite.

They were in Paris for Christmas. Selina’s choice. And she really wanted to see the Nutcracker for some reason. Something about the magic of the French Ballet. Damian didn’t get it but he enjoyed classical music so he decided it would be worth it.

“Wow,” breathed Tim. He stared at the palace in awe. It was truly a beautiful building. It shone in the night. The Palais Garnier stood proudly, welcoming guests from high class families and social circles.

They were seated in one of the booths with a great view of the stage. The loud chatter ceased as the lights faded and the curtains opened. The dancers flowed out as the music began.

He watched in fascination as the ballerinas danced on their toes with such grace and elegance. And then stepped out the lead. The girl playing Clara was... beautiful. She danced unlike the others. She was precise with her mouvements. Her arms followed her legs as she danced around the stage.

The play went on and Damian watched in fascination, unwilling to acknowledge the way Dick nudged Jason, or the looks his father and Selina have been sharing.

And soon, a very familiar tune began to play. The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy began, and the girl playing Clara danced alone. By God she was beautiful. Her pink ensemble shimmered under the light. Her dark hair tied behind her head so they wouldn’t disrupt her dancing.

And before he knew it, it was over. The dancers gathered to the Center of the stage and bowed.

€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€

“I told you, you had nothing to worry about!” Adrien piped up from next to her. She laughed and hit him on the shoulder. Marinette glanced at Mme Dubois who smiled at her and nodded. She felt her chest swell with pride.

“How about we go home after this, non?” The blonde next to her asked, smiling childishly.

“Yeah, okay, just let me get changed first.”

She walked to her dressing room and opened the door, only to see it filled with flowers of all sorts. A few bouquets were from her parents. Others from friends. Most from strangers.

Although a beautiful bouquet of red roses seemed to be calling her. Marinette walked towards it and examined it, touching the soft petals occasionally. Oh. There was a card. She gently picked it up and read the note, she smiled softly. It was quiet for a few moments, just her, the note and silence.

At least for a few minutes. She was startled by the sound of someone knocking on her door, “Mari?” Adrien’s voice rang through her ears, “you almost done?”

She looked back at her note and called out, “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute!”

I didn’t think Angels were real, but you, Miss Dupain-Cheng, have proven me wrong. Would you care to accompany me to dinner at Le Cinq tomorrow at 7?

Best wishes, Damian Wayne

xxx-xxx-xxxx

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Better late than never amirite

Also special thanks to @little-kitty-kanny for helping me with this ily!!!!

#daminette december #daminette #maribat au #maribat fic #maribat #its late but whatever at least its done uwu #not adrien salt

[rae-is-typing]

Universal Language

Description: You, music and the Avengers

Characters: You, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Thor, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker and Pepper Potts because I love her

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, mentions of little Stevie getting beat up, and mild language. If there is something I missed, please let me know.

Disclaimer: Some are longer than others, some have dialogue, and I couldn’t think of anything for Rhodey (I’m so sorry!) Tell me what you think, I was trying something new for this one. If you want something more in-depth, lemme know :)

Word count: ~ 2.5k

Tony took you in when you were a toddler. He knew jack shit about raising a child, and enlisted the help of a nanny,. That is until Pepper made him realize how much he was missing of his daughter’s life. He didn’t even know you started crawling. However, he knew the only thing that got you to stop crying was music. He also knew that banging on things rhythmically was your favorite pastime. From then on, he knew that he was going to have a little musician on his hands.

Tony

In Tony’s opinion, the only good things your mother gave you were life and your knack for the arts, especially music. Rhodey and Pepper saw it, too. You took to music the way Tony took to mechanics. He loved your adorable pout when you were figuring the notes out, and the way your face brightened the room when you finally played it right.

The first thing he got you was a toy xylophone when you were three. He would watch you try and replicate the music he was playing over his speakers. You’d look up at him with tearful eyes when you couldn’t get it. He would gently take the mallet from your hands and copy the music, then he’d give it back to you so could copy him. Your giggles of glee when he played were something he’d never forget. He used his knowledge of the piano to help you learn music.

You were six when he got back from Afghanistan. Even at that young age, you knew things would be different. Your father had been gone for months. His arm as in a sling and he looked sick. He pushed you away for a few weeks after that, only staying in the lab, not even letting you stay in the child-proof area he had set up all those years ago. You didn’t understand why he was different, you only understand that he was different.

One night, you were playing in the main room. Pepper was done for the day, and Obadiah was far away and wouldn’t be back for a really long time; you were all alone with only JARVIS looking after you. You were trying, and failing, to play Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. You kept hitting the wrong keys and messing up the rhythms. Frustrated, you huffed and crossed your arms.

Unbeknownst to you, your dad was behind you. He smiled softly, walked closer to you, picked you up, set you on his lap and played the phrase you were trying to. You demanded he play the rest. Soon enough, he had a sleeping kid in his lap.

You were eight when you had your first performance with an audience. It was a piano recital in a small auditorium at your school. He sat in the front, unashamedly cheering for you and loving you. He was there whenever you had solos, and he cried for a lot of them, not that he would ever admit that to anyone but you or Pepper. He records all of your performance, e even has videos of your progress from a four-year-old you playing Mary Had a Little Lamb to sixteen-year-old you busting out Beethoven like its nothing.

Now, he asks FRIDAY to play back recordings of you singing or playing. It helps him calm down, knowing he’ll always have a piece of what matters most to him with him at all times.

Steve

You met Steve when you were ten years old. It was the aftermath of the Battle of New York. Steve and the rest of the team, excluding Thor, had moved into the tower. While you were thrilled to see Natalie-Natasha again, you were a shy kid, opting to stay with Pepper or your dad and away from the others. The larger-than-life Captain America intimidated the shit out of you.

It wasn’t until you saw him sketching in the common are you began to consider him an actual human and not a walking action figure. You had been trying your hand at drawing for months, and while you had made considerable progress, your work always looked off for some reason. After watching him draw for weeks, you managed to snatch his sketchbook, flip through it when left to go get something from another room. He cleared his throat, startling you into dropping the book. You picked it up, heat in your cheeks, and sheepishly handed it back to him with a small, almost scared, “Sorry,”

He only smiled at you, ten-year-olds weren’t all that subtle when it came to spying. He sat you down on the couch, and began showing you all of the drawings he felt were appropriate. Some of them were memories of war-ravaged battle fields, and he didn’t want to give you nightmares. There were lots of old-timey Brooklyn, a man named Bucky, a vaguely familiar, but very beautiful woman named Peggy and Steve’s Ma, Sarah.

You pouted and explained that whenever you tried to draw, it never came out right. He nodded, then smiled. “I’ll tell you what, you help me learn Piano, I’ll help you learn to draw.”

Clint

Clint is a vent-dweller and, much like everyone else on the team, he struggles with PTSD. He uses the vents as a safe space, a way to escape the nightmares and the heartache from the past. However, he doesn’t like to feel alone. He often says above the lab to hear Tony’s loud music, snarky banter with his AI’s, and his empty threats to the ‘bots. Other times he’ll stay above the gym if he knows that Steve or Natasha are doing late night workouts. The soft grunts and the sounds of the equipment are sufficient to keep the loneliness at bay. On very rare occasions, he stays above the kitchen to hear Vision mutter to himself while attempting, and generally failing at cooking food.

Soon enough, he found the music room. Well, art floor.

You were up late, practicing a solo that you couldn’t quite get, but weren’t ready to give up on. He paused, getting clear tone with his hearing aids in. He soon found himself up above the floor whenever you were playing late. The music was a nice distraction, and he could feel himself become happy with your progress, small feelings of pride swelling in his chest at your success. One night, he even left a note on the piano asking you to learn and play Clair de Lune for him. The next week, you told him to be there at midnight, and sure enough, the beautiful piano tune floated up to the vents.

Natasha

You’ve known Natasha since she was Natalie. You mostly kept your distance until one day. You were struggling to play something. You fumbled with your instrument, while penciling something onto the sheet music. She watched you for a couple minutes before asking if you  needed help. You huffed out a petulant “No,” before proceeding to struggle for another five minutes. Defeated, you asked for help. She managed to help you figure out the fingerings and the accidentals.

You took up dancing a little later on, and she began helping you after your regular class. With her guidance, you quickly became one of the best dancers in your classes, always rising to the challenge with the work-ethic she helped instill in you.

Even later on, you became her pupil once more when learning to fight. She knocked you on your ass more times than you can count, and still does all the time. But, with her help, you’ve learned how to kick some serious ass.

Thor

It’s no secret that Thor is a big guy. He doesn’t know his own strength,and often breaks things when he wasn’t careful. Out of all the original Avengers, he intimidated you the most.

One day, you saw him holding your violin, examining it like a specimen under a microscope. You panicked, dropped everything and ran to him.  

You demanded he stop, resorting to pulling the bow from his hands. He was confused at the tiny child pulling the interesting midgardian play thing away from him.

“Let it go, Thor! You’ll break it!”

Thor frowned, still holding the violin.

“My apologies, young Stark. I do not know what it is, I was merely trying to find its function.” He says, handing it back to.

You relaxed a little, the initial panic wearing off. “It’s a violin, it makes music.”

“How?”

You got into position, put the bow to the strings and drug across the strings. A note rung put, and everything seemed to click in Thor’s mind.

The next time Thor came to visit, he brought Asgardian instruments for you to learn, try and play. You may or may not have cried out of joy.

Bruce

Bruce is a ball of stress, and that is evident to anyone that’s spent any amount of time with him. He uses music as an outlet, letting the sounds wash over him and makes some amount of stress go away. But there are days that things get too overwhelming, there are days where the headphones and opera don’t work, there are days where he needs something more.

Bruce knows that you play, he knows about your talent, and he’s even gone with Tony to watch you perform. There was a day when he shyly asked if he could watch you practice. You were all for it. You practiced in front of him, and he calmed don a lot more.

It became a routine of sorts, you playing, him offering some constructive criticism when he could and you even taught him a few songs on the piano.

Sam

You took the initiative of catching Steve up with modern music. One day, he sheepishly handed you The List, Working your way down, you finally landed on Marvin Gaye. Steve called his friend Sam in so you both could gush about the icon.

You and Sam ended up screeching singing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough for him, and managed not to scare him off. You called it a successful day.

After that, you had put together a playlist for him, and had your dad create a portable sound system for his wings so he could fly listening to his fave.

Bucky

Bucky came to the tower after his time in Wakanda. Tony was wary, anyone in his situation would be. He wanted you to stay away from the ex-assassin indefinitely, and you didn’t blame him. You knew what Bucky did. However, you tried not to blame Bucky either. Steve explained the situation as best he could to you, and you understood that Bucky had been taken advantage of, used and manipulated.

Now that he was in the tower, Bucky wandered around the tower when he couldn’t sleep which happened to be most nights. One night, he heard something familiar, something that tugged at his chest in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Somewhere over the rainbow,”

He remembers a warm breezy day, the alley he pulled Stevie out the night before, reaming him for fighting more than usual because of the big day they had coming up. He cleaned him up. He remembers holding a washcloth to a small blond Steve as he tried not to hurt him too bad while he berated him for fighting again that week.

“There’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby,”

He remembers walking with Stevie to the theater, paying too much for the tickets and sitting beside his best friend watching color appear on a screen for the first time. Bucky smiles, letting the feeling of nostalgia and the longing for a simpler time linger for a moment longer before heading to another area of the labyrinth to explore.

Wanda

Wanda moved in when you were 13. You were so happy that you had another female in the tower to bond with. When she expressed interest in music, you jumped at the chance to teach her something, anything really. You tried a few things. You started with woodwinds, she couldn’t figure out the embouchure. You moved onto brass, she didn’t like the sounds. You settled on stringed instruments. Her choice was the acoustic guitar, and she was good. She picked it up almost immediately, easily learning the fingerings and chords.  Her favorite thing were duets with you, and you often played together whenever you two had time.

Peter

You saw how good Peter was for your dad. He finally had a mentee to teach. Tony really tried to get you into science, he really did. It didn’t work the way he thought it would, and damaged your relationship for awhile until he back off, letting you do you.

You were jealous, admittedly. You weren’t used to sharing your father’s attention with another person your age.

Then you got to know him. You found out through your dad that he was in marching band, and you needed to know more. You began spending a little time together, swapping band stories and laughing at memes. Soon enough, Peter hung out with you before going to working with Tony in the lab for a few hours. It was fun.

You learned the Mii Theme, the Kahoot theme and even put together a duet of meme music to annoy your dad with together.

Pepper

Pepper is your mother. No, she didn’t birth you, and you didn’t call her mom, but she has been there for you through everything. Through your father’s time in Afghanistan, the battle with Obadiah, your first day of middle school, whenever your dad was busy and you were upset, your first period. It didn’t matter, she was with you. She listened to you when you worked hard on a piece. Hell, she even helped you pick out your first professional grade instrument, despite knowing very little about them.

She encouraged you when were feeling less than, she helped pick you up when you were down, she taught how to act around the business assholes in Galas and events.

Pepper loved you and you loved her.

When the proposal happened, Pepper asked you to sing at the wedding. You took this role very seriously, singing ‘A Thousand years’ by Christina Perri and ‘Future Looks Good’ by OneRepublic.

When Morgan was born, you sang to her whenever you could. When she was old enough, you’d sit her on your lap and let her smash the piano keys like Tony did with you.

Pepper couldn’t think of a better older sister for her baby; she couldn’t think of any better daughters.

#avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #thor x reader #bruce banner x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #pepper potts x reader #peter parker x reader #avengers one shot #one shot #avengers #mcu #mcu fanfic #fanfiction #universal language

[sandriinehebert]

Date: December 30th 2019 Location: The Lombardi’s house in Montréal Trigger Warning: Cancer, Family feud, Curse words

OOC notes: Initially I wrote this all in French and then translated the whole thing because who wants to read some sad crap in French? Not me! Some of the drama got lost in translation, but I did my absolute best. Just keep in mind that this conversation happened in French, since that’s the language the Lombardi’s speak at home. Thank you for reading and I’m sorry this got way too long! Oh, bonus, listen to this.

There were still decorations scattered all over the house. There were empty boxes piling out by the couch, on the dining table, and others squeezed between the bars of the stairs. Monica and Christian did not have time to finish the tree before they left for Massachussetts. Their tradition involved a lot of traveling and planning, but they tried the best to adapt themselves. Having two Christmases was not something anyone would ever complain.

Besides, it made the kids laugh when they saw the chaos that their childhood house had become. A tornado swept ornaments and tiny Christmas-y features all over the place, which gave the house a funny, but merry, look.

As per usual, Christian and his daughter busied themselves in the kitchen for most of the day. Monica and her son worked on cleaning the place and doing laundry. They all reunited around the dining table with a delicious feast and plenty of things to talk about. Adamo did most of the talking, but no one was surprised by that. Alessandra put an end to his monologue when she suggested they cleared the coffee table in the living room and pulled out her old Disney princesses themed monopoly board game for their traditional tournament. The father agreed with excitement and poured chips and other snacks into bowls to finish the evening, watching their favorite holiday movie, which was Barbie in the Nutcracker. No matter how old she became, it would always be Sandrine’s favorite thing about the celebrations. She would get up, and helped by her brother, they would do some of the pas de deux or bits of the Sugar Plum Fairy dance. Their parents would cheer, their heart filled with old memories from the previous years.

It was always the same. Outside, there would be so much snow cars could barely drive down the street. They could hear the loud chatters and noises from families nearbies. Italians really did it better.

It was around eight or nine in the evening and, usually by then, everyone was too tired from their flight to stay up any longer. Adamo was already in his old bedroom, snoring loudly. Christian was watching the weather channel to confirm their plans for the next day, which was to watch all the special television shows. And Sandrine would, too, get upstairs but, before she started walking up, she was stopped by her mother.

“Sandrine, will you help me clean the dishes?”

“Mom, I’m exhausted. Can we do that tomorrow?“

“No, come with me, now.” Nikki’s voice rarely sounded so strict and insisting.

She followed her mom to the kitchen and they both stood by the counter, staring at each other. Sandrine started feeling all strange inside, like a knot was being tied in her guts. Something was wrong.

“I talked to your brother about this a while ago and I wanted to wait to have you all here to tell you about it.”

“Why are you so serious mom? You don’t want to make brunch tomorrow, is that it? It’s fine, Dad already suggested we take it easy and we’re all good with —.”

“No, listen to me.” Monica marked a pause. “Do you remember when you came with me and granny to her first appointment, at the hospital? It was before your last competition. You practiced your pirouettes in the waiting room and everyone was cheering for you. You looked so cute with your little costume.”

“I was like seventeen or something! I wasn’t cute! I was panicking because I skipped rehearsals! I don’t see how that’s cute. It’s not because I’m short and I looked like a child that those strangers had the right to patronize me —.”

“I told you to wait for us, while I went with granny. And you waited, because you were always the best girl. And when we walked out, you knew something was not okay... You said you had a...”

“Knot in my stomach.” It was Alessandra’s turn to cut off her mother. “I remember that. We had just learned that Nonna was not doing good. Why are you telling me all this?”

“And we tried to keep it from you for the longest time, but we failed. You were always with me and with dad, and with Nonna. You knew something was off when we asked you to go out with your friends or to go grab a slushie because we needed to talk about grown-up things.”

“What are you trying to say? That you treated me like a child when I was an adult? I know all that already.”

“Do you have that feeling right now?”

Alessandra nodded. It was not just a knot, it felt like a blade piercing through her insides.

“Yes, and...?”

“I have cancer.”

"What?”

“You heard me.”

“No, this can’t be right. You told me your last checkup was perfect... You went like two weeks ago! It was just some random bump. You got so many scans and tests done! They all came up fine!”

“Alessandra Serafina Lombardi, for once, stop talking.”

So, she did. Alessandra was spiralling. She held on the counter when she felt her knees shaking under her weight. She looked over to the living room and Christina was switching the television channels absentmindedly. He was stuck on some hunting and fishing show. He hated hunting and fishing.

“Wait... You said you told Adam...”

“Yes. We told him last summer.”

“Last summer?!” Nothing was making sense anymore.

Her mother was trying to explain herself. She found out she had traces of cancer in her breasts and ovaries last summer, and refused to go through any sort of treatment. She knew all too well how it went, she forced her own mother to go under so many therapies and to take so many pills. She explained Sandrine that she was going to take drugs to ease the pain and see how it progressed. That was why she pushed back all the tests until her doctor insisted. Last summer, the cancer was small and could be easily treated, but, as of now, it was a whole other story. Nikki added that her dad would close the restaurant for a few months, until all the papers would be ready to pass it on to his sous-chef for good. They also said they would use some of the money Corinna gave them at her death to pay for the medicine. All that Alessandra heard was a long, loud, buzzing in her ears.

“Why did you not tell me?”

“We did not want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?! That’s the funniest thing ever. You thought telling me my mom is dying after the whole world knew would not hurt me?”

“You are too sensitive, Alessandra.”

“I’m not sensitive. I’m tired.” She slammed her fist on the kitchen counter. “I’m not a baby anymore! You can’t hide things from me! You can’t do that to your own daughter! We had this conversation when Nonna got too sick. What did you do with it? Throw it in the fucking trash, right along your common sense that could have reminded you to inform your other child?”

She had always been the other, lesser child. She tried not to care too much about it, to forgive and forget. But it was beginning to eat her alive.

“Alessandra, be respectful.” Christian shouted from the living room.

“You don’t even know what respect is.”

“We protected you until your mother made up her mind and decided not to get treated. We did not want you to live with the same uncertainty as we did!”

“All you did was hiding the truth from me.”

She stormed out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs. Her steps were loud and heavy. As she made it to her old room, she found her brother blocking the way. She started slapping and punching his chest, struggling to have him move at all. Adamo opened his mouth, as if anything he could ever say would make the situation better. Before he could make a sound, Alessandra managed to push him and walk inside, her hand holding the door knob so firmly that her knuckles turned white. She spoke, only to slam the door at his face.

 “Family should never lie to one another."

@devinstonerpg

#devinstone.task #devinstone.task003 #tasks. #biography. #(( i tried to do the fancy html translation thingy and gave up IM SORRY ))

[classic-rock-roller]

1. You and Kevin and Bonham and Tom are helping Cassie move into her college dorm room. You’ve almost got her moved in when she says, “It smells like a gym mat in here, I’m going to light some candles.” Kevin hands her a bic lighter, and she pushes the red button. Nothing lights. “Why isn’t it working?” Bonham goes up to her and says, “You have to push the spark wheel and then the button, just the button won’t light it.” Tom looks over and says, “How is it that you don’t know how to light a lighter? I know I taught you.” “No dad, that was Chrissy.” How does Tom respond, and what do you, Kevin, and Bonham say?

Bons and I giggle a little. 

Kevin: You’re getting old there, Tommy. 

Tom: Shut up, DuBrow. 

2. You, Bonham, Randy and Kevin are hanging out with Crue after they just got a record deal. In honor of it, someone ordered a lady-shaped cake, and the way it was frosted, she’s not wearing anything. Crue cheers when it comes out, and Bonham says to you, Kevin, and Randy, “Watch this.” She walks up to the cake and says, “This looks delicious.” She takes a big bite out of one of the boobs and says exaggeratedly, “Mmm, tasty.” It drives all of the boys nuts. How do you, Kevin, Randy, and Crue respond?

Crüe is howling like hyenas. 

I cross my arms and shake my head. 

Randy: ...uh...ok

Kevin: Hey! Let me get a slice of that cake! 

3. You and Tom are meeting Bonham and Kevin at their house to have game night. You both have work, so you’re arriving in separate cars. You get there and let yourself in when you hear something coming from the kitchen. You hear, “Kevin! You got it on my face!” “It’s just cream, baby!” You step into the kitchen and see that Kevin sprayed Bonham in the face with whipped cream when they were making shot glass desserts. What do they say when they see you, and what do you say?

Me: I can see you two are busy. 

Bons: Haha, very funny. 

Kevin: Yes we are. 

Before he dips her and kisses her. 

Tom: Ok, ok. Save that for the bedroom, please. 

4. You’re on your way back to your room at school when you hear an argument coming from inside. You’re due to meet that dude Tom from your psychology class later so you just walk in. As you do, you see Bonham sitting on her bed in tears. Kevin is there, and he says to her, “Why are you making such a big deal about it? I never said we were exclusive.” She screams at him in anguish, “Because, you were my first!” before sobbing pathetically into the pillow she’s holding. Just then, Kevin notices you standing in the doorway. How does he react to you, and what do you say?

Kevin: Oh...hi...BabyCarrot. 

I square my shoulders and go, “Kevin, I think it’d be best if you left. Also, you're a fucking asshole. 

I’d text Tom to see if we could make an appointment for another time and spend the night comforting Bons. 

5. You and Tom are at Kevin and Bonham’s house one day, and they’re talking about their valentine’s day trip coming up. It’s mostly logistical details, but at one point Kevin says, and is not discreet about it, “The headboard of the bed at this resort is solid oak and we’re not leaving until you have a concussion.” How do you and Tom react to that, and what does Bonham say?

Bonham blushes. 

Tom: ok, ok. I didn’t need to hear that. 

Me: At least you’re not giving Me concussions anymore.

6. Bonham’s been trying to get a haircut for ages but no one will do it. They keep telling her that “It’s too pretty to cut!” At one point when that happens again, you see her fish her pocket knife out of her pants and slice off half her hair in one swipe. She turns to the hairdresser and says, “Fix it.” How does the hairdresser react, and what do you say?

Hairdresser (gasps): Ok, I can make this look better.

Me: Should have done that after like hairdresser number eight. Besides its hair, it’ll grow back. 

7. You walk into the studio on recording day and no one is anywhere to be found. You finally find them out back, and you see Linus kneeling and kind of sobbing, Erik holding an old stage cape on a stick to function as a flag, Bonham standing at a salute and playing TAPS on a kazoo, and Sean standing on a box. You walk up and Sean is giving a speech, and you see them surrounding Linus’s favorite guitar, which has a snapped neck. It’s a makeshift funeral. How do you react, and what do they say when you walk up?

Me: Aww, Did Bertie finally kick the bucket? 

Linus: BERTIE!!!!!

Erik: Way to start him wailing again. 

Sean: It’s ok Linus.

Bons is still blowing taps on the kazoo. 

8. You and Kevin and Randy are at a school basketball game, and Bonham’s in the stands with the band. They play mostly old rock tunes, but at halftime you hear her on the mic, “In traditional halftime performance, we will be playing Hey Baby. But tonight there will be a slight revision. Ricky, count us off!” The conductor counts the band off, and they start playing the song. When the words ccome in, the band sings, instead of the actual line, “Hey Randy, I want to know if you’ll be my man.” You look over and Bonham has found her way over to you guys. She asks into thi mic, “What do you say, Randy?” then offers him the mic. What does he say? How does she react? How do you and Kevin react? How does the crowd react?

Randy: um, yes

She jumps up and down excitedly. 

The crowd cheers and Kevin and I watch like proud parents. 

9. You and Tom and Bonham and Kevin are going to a black tie event one night. Kevin stopped off at your house to get ready, but since Bonham had work she got ready at her house by herself. You all go to pick her up so you can ride together, and when she comes out of her house you hear Kevin say, “Oh my God.” She looks nice, but not like, amazing. She gets in the car and says, “Sorry I’m late, let’s go. Hey Kevin, you look really nice.” He just stares at her. How does she react, and what do you and Tom say?

Bons: Stop staring at me like that. 

Tom: ...Kevin, adjust your legs. 

Me: Oh god, Kevin, gross man. I really don’t want to see that. 

10. You and Kevin and Randy are walking back to your room at school one day to hang out. When you get there, Randy excuses himself to go to the bathroom, but he yells surprisedly when he gets there. He comes back out and says, “Your roommate is passed out in the shower.” How do you and Kevin react? Why is she in there?

Me: Not again. 

I go grab Bons and wrap a towel around her and wake her up and take her to her room. 

Kevin: Did you drink too much again? 

She went to a huge party the night before and had a lot to drink. 

11. You and Your band are setting up onstage. Everyone’s instruments are resting on their stands, but Erik’s bass tips very slightly. Without question, he fully vaults for his instrument, rather than just simply tipping it back the other way. Bonham says, “Jeez man, you were ready to die for your bass but it barely even tipped.” How does he respond and what do you, Linus, and Sean say?

Erik: I would take a bullet for my bass 

Me: That’s a little much. 

Linus: I get that. 

Sean: Hey, you do you, man. 

____________________

1) For one of your concerts, your singer thinks it would be a great idea to have her, you, Erik, and Linus attached to rigs that allow you to be flown out over the crowd. Your singer is the first to test it out and the roadies fly her out over the crowd area so fast she screams. She suddenly stops about 20 feet in the air and you hear the roadies screaming about how it jammed and they have to fix it. Your singer is just hanging there slightly spinning. What does she say and how do you, Linus, Erik, Sean, Tom, and Kevin respond?

2) The roadies have fixed the rig and during a concert one day, your singer is quickly flown out over the crowd while singing (she’s suppressed her screams). The rig is working brilliantly but all of a sudden, you hear her go silent and scream through the PA system. While she was flying over the crowd, the wire broke and she fell into the crowd. What do you, the band, and Tom do? Is she ok? 

3) You are helping your singer put away the groceries and she goes downstairs to put something in the basement freezer. She soon comes back up with Kevin whos holding his eye. Your singer goes, “Can you give me a bag of peas?” "Sure why?” Your singer goes, “Because dummy over there, decided it would be a good idea to hide in the dark basement and scare me.” She gives Kevin the peas. How do you respond and what does Kevin say?

4) Your singer takes you and Tom home with her for a weekend. During the weekend she takes you to a place called Lehigh Lookout which is on a mountain and overlooks the city. While there, she goes to Tom, “Please be careful.” He smirks and at her and goes to the edge before faking losing his balance. You can see her tense up.  Once Tom comes back, your singer grabs his sweatshirt and after a while when he tries to move again she won’t let go. He looks down at her and goes, “You can let go now.” How do you and your singer respond?

5) You, your singer, Tom, and their kids have gone on a hike and are overlooking a lookout. Your singer is on edge because the kids are still young. Cassie is 10, Sam is 6, and Chrissy is 4. Sam is getting closer and closer to the edge and your singer goes, “Sam, don’t you dare go too near the edge.” He doesn’t listen and he gets closer. He almost falls before Tom runs and grabs him. How do you and your singer respond and what does Tom say?

6) You’re at soundcheck for a concert in Galveston, Texas and while up onstage, your singer just starts screaming into the microphone. Kevin is holding his ears and goes, “BabyCarrot, what the fuck are you doing?” Your singer stops and goes, “Making sure you can hear me.” Tom screams to her, “Honey, you’re making our ears bleed.” How do you, Kevin, Linus, Erik, and Sean respond?

7) You are in the kitchen making dinner when all of a sudden, you hear your singer singing the sugar plum fairy song and you feel her smack your butt with a stick. She has this huge smirk on her face and she does the same thing to Kevin. How do the two of you respond?

8) You are getting ready for a concert on your joint tour with Crüe. Your singer has just put on her heels and you see her wince in pain. “I wish I was a man. Then I wouldn’t have to wear heels onstage.” Just as she says this, Nikki, Tommy, and Mick walk past the open dressing room door and says, “You realize we do that too right?” How do you, your singer, Tommy, and Mick respond?

9) You and your singer are at a party with her friend Jon. While there, a really drunk guy comes up and starts grinding on your singer and playing with her hair. She is very uncomfortable and Jon goes, “Stop touching her, man. Get off her.” The guy glares at Jon and goes, “What are you talking about? She loves it.” Drunk dude is about to kiss your singer when she clocks him right in the face and he's down. How do you and Jon respond and what does drunk guy say when he comes to?

10) Your singer is over at your house when you get a strange package in the mail. You open it to find a dark heart shaped box with a suit in it. Once your singer sees it her face goes white, and she backs away. You look at her, “What’s wrong?” “That’s a dead man's suit. His ghost is attached to it. I know someone who had it before you. Did Kevin buy it?” Just then Kevin comes into the room, “Oh cool, my suit arrived.” How do you and your singer respond?

11) You and your band are doing a joint tour with Crüe and at one point you have a meet and greet with fans. Tommy is just being a dick and after about ten minutes your singer smacks him lightly upside the head. Tommy rubs his head, “Oww, what was that for?” Your singer glares at him, “Stop being a dick.” How does Tommy respond and what do you, Nikki, Mick, Vince, Linus, Erik, and Sean say?

@osbournebemydaddy your move, Bons :)

#tag game #tag war

[xnxadultstore]

Top 30+ Christmas Coloring Books for Adults

The snow is falling and the Christmas lights are beginning to go up so, after all, we have to have some Christmas Coloring Books to maintain us calm earlier than throughout and after Black Friday insanity.

Now that Coloring Books for Adults are an establishment, there are a complete lot of Christmas coloring books accessible together with Christmas Coloring Cards this yr. We have searched for essentially the most stunning selections for you. Please let me know within the feedback or on social media if I’ve neglected your favourite. 

My Picks for Christmas Coloring Books for Adults 2019

My best choice this yr is the Queen of Colorings’ Christmas providing….

#1 JOHANNA’S CHRISTMAS by Johanna Basford

Something relatively particular for the festive season! Johanna’s Christmas is accessible NOW!

This e-book options 40 collectible, perforated pull-out prints, ultimate for framing or giving as presents. The excellent Christmas current for coloring followers. The illustrations are printed on one aspect of the ivory paper solely, to help you take away your murals with out sacrificing the picture on the reverse.

Delicate tangles of holly and ivy, bauble-laden Christmas timber and mountains of exquisitely wrapped presents are all ready to be dropped at life on this new assortment of pull-out prints. From flurries of delicate snowflakes to deliciously embellished gingerbread homes and reindeer-led sleighs, Johanna’s Christmas is a celebration of this excellent vacation season that invitations you to select up your pens and pencils to paint, full or embellish every of the festive artworks. Hidden on this e-book are a flock of elusive little robins – can you notice all of them?

US, UK & Canada Amazon Order Link or Book Depository (Free Shipping)

At Book Depository you may also snag the UK model which is a little bit totally different.

#2 Masja’s Christmas

Masja van den Berg is an artist within the Netherlands promoting her books on Etsy. Her pictures are magical and her books are all stunning hand-drawn and printed on single-sided on thick environment-friendly paper. If you buy $35 price of merchandise from her your transport to the US is free. If you enroll for her mailing record you’ll get the obtain of this cowl picture for free to paint. I’ve seen dozens of her pictures coloured on Instagram and have fallen in love. This is a model new e-book for 2019.

Click to Order on Etsy

#three Escape to Christmas Past by Good Wives & Warriors

If you haven’t but found the Good Wives & Warriors design workforce you’re in for a deal with. I’m completely in love with the 5 books (plus one on pre-order) that I’ve acquired and coloured in. They are all two-sided coloring books with good paper for numerous mixing, layering and shading for coloured pencil followers and they’re smaller sq. books that help you end up a mission in a day or two of TV watching coloring.  

Escape to Christmas Past is an homage to Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” Evocative Christmas scenes and characters from Charles Dickens’ well-known story of Ebenezer Scrooge and Marley’s ghost, threaded with imaginative, delicate patterns all clearly outlined in pen and ink, make ultimate compositions to paint. Pivotal extracts from the story are scattered all through for inspiration, and there are areas left inside a number of the compositions for particular person design and embellishment.  I promise you’ll adore this e-book.

Escape to Christmas Past Amazon US    UK    Canada    Worldwide at Book Depository

#four Christmas to Color by Mary Tanana isn’t a brand new e-book however it was my favourite of 2015.

It has the proper mixture of conventional and eccentric, all hand-drawn with stunning thick white paper.

Order Christmas to Color on Amazon US, UK or Canada  or Book Depository

#5 Sherri Baldy My-Besties Winter Snowmen Coloring Book

Sherri Baldy’s My Besties “Winter Snowman” Coloring Book is the primary time she has created vacation illustrations. Her enjoyable big-eyed snow folks besties are nice coloring for all ages, adults, and kids too. You get 50 coloring pages 2 of every picture is printed single~sided so you possibly can body or give away your colourful Bestie creations. This is a less complicated e-book than you’re used to with simply the lovable woman on the web page, so should you like them extra complicated, this isn’t the e-book for you, however such as you see within the image above it does offer you numerous area to play with background results, chalk, and stencils.

Order Christmas to Color on Amazon US, UK or Canada or Book Depository

#6 All Is Bright: A Devotional Journey to Color Your Way to Christmas

I  simply acquired this beautiful coloring e-book from the writer Tyndale House and fully fell in love with it. It’s an Advent coloring count-down, prayer journal, bible examine, household exercise e-book all rolled into one. The illustrations by Lizzie Preston are simply stunning depicting totally different scenes concerning the season and accompanying commentaries by Nancy Guthrie lead you from December 1 – December 31. The again pages even include kid-friendly coloring pages alongside the identical theme because the e-book. Now let’s discuss concerning the paper, it’s wonderful! The good thick paper all of us love to paint on, the dimensions is the usual massive sq. 9.7 x 9.6. Check the YouTube channel for my flip by means of too.

Order All is Bright on Amazon US, UK or Canada  Or Book Depository

#7 Mein Winterspaziergang

English translation is My Winter Walk, making this coloring e-book not particularly Christmas however it has numerous Christmas in addition to all through the winter climate scenes to paint. Rita Berman’s illustration fashion is sort of iconic and I’ll be you’ll develop into a fan and need all of her seasonal books. This e-book has 80 pages with a web page measurement smaller than the usual Johanna Basford measuring eight″ x eight″. 

This German coloring e-book is new to the US coloring viewers this yr though it’s been accessible on Book Depository.

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada or Worldwide at Book Depository

#eight Mounts 5 Christmas Coloring Book by  Olya Goloveshkina

The e-book is crammed with 24 one-sided distinctive and fantasy detailed driving animals of artwork by artist Olya Goloveshkina. You can see a coloured model of this gorgeous chook in our Facebook group right here.

Click to order Amazon US, UK or Canada or Book Depository

#9 25 Days of Christmas by Jane F. Hankins

A stunning spiral certain coloring e-book with skilled paper depicting the 12 Days of Christmas, scenes from a Children’s Nativity, Sugar Plum Fairy and Santa’s Workshop on artists paper.

Click to Order Amazon US, UK & Canada

10. Nice Little Town Christmas 2 by Tatiana Bogema

Tatiana’s second e-book is crammed along with her unbelievably lovable mice within the setting of her iconic “Nice Little Town” all dressed up for Christmas.

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada or Digital Download on Etsy

#11 Home for the Holidays: A Hand-Crafted Adult Coloring Book for Christmas – Illustrator Galadriel A. L. Thompson

Home for the Holidays: Travel Edition

#12 Christmas Coloring Book (Coloring is Fun by Thaneeya McArdle)

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada

#13 A Christmas Carol – A Coloring Classic

This e-book is simply GORGEOUS! 80 pages with a sewn binding, thick white paper printed on either side. Click to order A Christmas Carol Amazon US     Amazon UK   Amazon Canada 

#14 A Million Christmas Cats by John Bigwood

CLICK TO ORDER AMAZON US, UK OR CANADA

This is a smaller format than many of the books on this record however simply fabulous! Cats in all kinds of vacation and winter scenes, whimsical and enjoyable. It’s printed on either side with medium-thick paper, some with black backgrounds. I notably favored the cat’s ice-fishing web page.

#15 The Night Before Christmas Coloring Book

The solely gray-scale coloring e-book I’ve discovered with Christmas pictures and this one is simply GORGEOUS! Highly detailed web page by web page retelling of the well-known poem of the vacation season. If you will have by no means coloured in a gray-scale e-book they are surely fairly magical and you could find some recommendations and tutorials right here.  This is a Dover e-book so the paper received’t be spectacular however you possibly can at all times copy the pictures to cardstock for presents or to border.

The Night Before Christmas is accessible on Amazon US  –  UK – Canada & Book Depository

#16��Santa’s Cats

By the illustrator of the favored “Cats & Quilts” coloring e-book, “Santa’s Cats” is a Christmas coloring e-book that comprises twenty-four timeless, distinctive illustrations of cats and kittens stepping into bother, serving to Santa and his elves as they put together for the large day, and cuddling up with Jolly Old St Nick after an exhausting day within the workshop on the North Pole.

Each image is printed on one aspect of 60 lb pure white paper to reduce scoring and bleed-through and seems in two sizes: massive and half-size (four″x6″), each appropriate for framing when accomplished.

Santa’s Cats is accessible on Amazon US   UK   Canada and Book Depository

17. Color by Number Christmas Coloring by George Toufexis

George’s e-book is crammed with conventional Christmas vacation scenes and is secular in nature with issues like Santa, Christmas Trees, Stockings by the Fire and Winter Nature scenes. Images are printed on one aspect of the web page and are perforated. These 46 pictures are designed for skilled colorists.

CLICK TO ORDER AMAZON US, UK OR CANADA

18. Christmas Magic Coloring Book by Deborah Muller

Deborah’s e-book has Fairies, Mermaids, Unicorns, Snowmen and Magic all wrapped up in vacation enjoyable.

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada Deborah additionally has one other Christmas e-book known as Fairy Merry Christmas that you simply may need to see.

19. The Magical Christmas – A Colouring Book“

The Magical Christmas – A Colouring Book for Adults Illustrator Lizzie Mary Cullen This e-book may be very well-liked nevertheless I had a very exhausting time coloring in it because the illustrations are SO busy and detailed and drive you to paint just about each inch of the paper. Many of the pages have sections the place you aren’t certain what it’s you’re coloring or the place it stops and begins. I might advocate this solely for very skilled colorists who don’t frustrate simply.

Order Magical Christmas on Amazon US  ~  Amazon UK  ~  Amazon Canada or Book Depository

20. Whimsical Winter Wonderland by Molly Harrison

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada or on Etsy right here

21. Christmas Coloring Book by Jade Summer

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada

22. Merry & Bright

A Festive Christmas Coloring Wonderland of Snowmen, Ice Skates, and Quirky Critters on High-Quality Perforated Pages that Resist Bleed Through from numerous artists at Design Originals

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada

23. Snowflake Mandalas By Marty Nobel

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada

24. Christmas Designs by Peter Pauper Press

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada

25. Christmas Joy

Christmas Joy is a coloring e-book crammed with 24 pages of great, cute pictures within the theme of Christmas hand-drawn by Swedish artist Sabine van Ee.

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada or on Etsy Here

#26 Another of my favourite illustrators created a Christmas Coloring e-book “The Gift” unique title or “Night Voyage” for the English market

“The Night Voyage: A Magical Adventure and Coloring Book”

The Gift or All Gifts of the World or the Night Voyage are all alternate names for Daria Song’s Christmas e-book.

The tabby cat you see on this picture is all through the e-book for you cat lovers which might be additionally Daria Song followers. Her Christmas e-book follows the little woman on a brand new nighttime journey when the conductor of her toy practice involves life and helps her distribute presents the world over

This beautiful Christmas e-book is accessible to Order from Amazon US – UK –  Canada or Book Depository Worldwide.

Tatiana is thought for her “Little Town” collection and this Christmas coloring e-book has a few of these lovable mouse home, little city kind illustrations however it additionally has different pictures and the one which received me over was the lovable gnome colorings I noticed a couple of occasions on Instagram. I contact the artist on Etsy and he or she answered me nearly instantly that I may discover that picture on this her first Christmas e-book. Honestly, at this value level and for the flexibility to immediately obtain and coloration I’ve already received it printed and also you’ll be seeing it posted on my social channels very quickly. I believe I additionally may shrink it down and make it into present tags. I could also be a little bit bit behind the occasions however Christmas gnomes are making me actually completely happy this yr.

Click to order the Instant Download right here. Only $four.99

#28 Entangled Christmas Coloring Book

Angela Porter’s work is actually enjoyable to paint in. It has simply sufficient element to make it fascinating however not so tiny that you simply get fatigued with a web page. This is a Creative Haven e-book so pictures are printed on one aspect of the paper and are a vivid white good high quality paper.

Click to Order Amazon US, UK & Canada

29. Sticker by Number Christmas

Something a little bit totally different, if these coloring fingers are getting drained, attempt your hand at Coloring by Sticker.

Click to Order Sticker By Number Christmas Amazon US, UK or Canada

Christmas Creative Haven Coloring Books

There are fairly a couple of Christmas Creative Haven & Dover Coloring Books which were round for some time so we’ll be including these titles as time permits.

Christmas Around the World -Joan O’Brien is the illustrator. This e-book is extra elementary than a number of the others however has some pretty conventional vacation pictures

Nativity Stained Glass Coloring Book – Illustrator Marty Noble Christmas Mandalas – Illustrator Marty Noble Vintage Christmas Greetings Illustrator Marty Noble Winter Scenes – Illustrator Marty Noble Christmas Trees by Barbara Lanza Merry & Bright – Design Originals Illustrators An Old-Fashioned Christmas Coloring Book – Creative Haven My Besties Christmas Cottage Coloring Book – Sherri Baldy Ugly Holiday Sweaters – Creative Haven Winter Scapes Creative Haven Color Christmas Portable Book (Mini measurement) by Thaneeya McArdle Winter Wonderland with Love – Sherri Baldy Snowflake Mandalas – Marty Noble Night Before Christmas – Sherri Baldy Hebrew Illuminations Coloring Book: A Coloring Journey Through the Jewish Holy Days Adult Christmas Coloring Book: Magic Christmas: for Relaxation Meditation Blessing Nice Little Christmas Town by Tatiana Bogema Winter Magic: Beautiful Holiday Patterns Coloring Book for Adults  Winter Wonderland – A Creative Haven e-book seems prefer it has some good winter scenes which might rejoice the vacations properly.

The Fart Before Christmas – A model new humorous coloring e-book that may be nice for school-age youngsters in addition to adults. This new coloring e-book is sort of intelligent and humorous. If you will have a school-aged kiddo or grandkid you understand that something to do with farting is at all times massively hilarious.

Click to Order Amazon US, UK & Canada

Johanna Basford’s Holiday Freebies

Johanna Basford has a number of Christmas and Holiday pictures on her web site which you can obtain for free and we count on her to do one thing enjoyable and particular once more in 2016. Here is her beautiful Christmas Star. Johanna knew she wanted to get the phrase out about her work a couple of years in the past and arrange a enjoyable twitter mission the place she tweeted a chunk of an introduction calendar every day on twitter. Luckily for you, it’s now all on this web page the place you possibly can click on on and print every picture to paint in at dwelling. My plan is to print these on good high quality paper, coloration and use them to make handcrafted Christmas playing cards.

Stocking Stuffer Favorites for the Holidays

Not certain how one can get began with Adult Coloring Books? Check right here for Where to Start with Adult Colouring and Top 13 Tips for New Colorists. Best Coloring Pencils, Gel Pens & Markers to make use of in Adult Coloring Books.

Check Book Depository for any which might be out of inventory on Amazon

If you understand of any others please contact me and let me know. If you’re an illustrator with a vacation mission for the 2019 or 2020 holidays please ship me a duplicate to evaluation so I can add it to my curated lists.

Check out Christmas Cards to Color right here, Christmas Coloring Instant Downloads on Etsy, and Jewish Holiday Books right here.

Join the enjoyable in our Christmas Coloring Contest from Jane F. Hankins 2019.

The post Top 30+ Christmas Coloring Books for Adults appeared first on XNX Adult Store.

[jhameia]

Fic: “The Ambassador”

the fic i mentioned 5 days ago, done at 19k words, maybe it will leave me alone now and I CAN GET BACK TO DISSERTATING. is it Strange Magic fanfic anymore? WHO KNOWS ITS DONE have an asexual romance between a spider woman and a fairy dude

1: The Mission

           Sylvia of the Northern Spiders, loyal retainer and advisor to the Royal Family of the Dark Forest, glared at the Bog King, her childhood playmate and close cousin as she entered in response to a roared summons.

           The atmosphere in the throne room was tense and ugly as he stared down at her from the dais. This wasn't the first time he had ignored her counsel, but this was the first time it had gotten so personal. Banning love from the Dark Forest! What ridiculousness! Banning love potion she could understand, cutting down the primroses, sure, but locking up the Sugar Plum Fairy, of all the--!! And Auntie Griselda was of no help, taking her precious son's side in his time of hurt.

           Which she should be doing, except his head was so far up his ass on this matter, it would be illogical. Her job was to help him be a better King, not a worse one. Bad enough that he was surly to start with--just like his father, his father's father, and beyond--this recent affair had launched that surliness off the precipice into a pit of mean-hearted stupidity.

           "You called, Your Majesty?" she asked coldly. The formality of her tone cut through the silence.

           He didn't flinch, though he might have before; "Your Majesty" from her lips was usually soft and fond and warm. A change in that meant cutting disapproval.

           "We received a message from the Fairy Kingdom," he drawled, tossing her a little scroll.

           She frowned. The Fairy Kingdom and the Dark Forest had been isolated from each other for generations. With good reason. The fairies were not to be trifled with: dangerous, vicious creatures masquerading as light fragile butterflies. She unrolled the scroll, and raised her eyebrow at the uncharacteristically warm message written in tidy handwriting. "From... one of the Fairy Princesses? Aren't they still very young?" Princess Marianne couldn't be older than fourteen. Or sixteen?

           "It is nonetheless a royal missive."

           "Requesting friendship between the kingdoms," she murmured. "Not very sophisticated. No peace talks, no diplomatic relations, no trade, just... friendship?" She looked up. "This is the request of a child."

           "Not just any child. The Crown Princess." A curl went up on the Bog King's face, and not a smile.

           "You intend to... honour this?"

           "You advise against it?"

           "I..." She thought about it. "It would be good," she began slowly, "to have access to the Meadow again. The Swarm would benefit from an open border, and we wouldn't have to travel so out of our way to the Glen. We could rebuild an accord with the elves."

           He leaned back with a satisfied smirk. "I am appointing you our ambassador to the Meadow."

           Her jaw hung.

           "I trust you will have our bests interests in mind," he continued blithely, his tone a bit too light. "You're the least likely in the kingdom to try to eat a fairy, too, so that's a plus."

           Her heart raced. "And how long will this term last?"

           His gaze was flinty as he replied, "until I recall you."

           "I see." She went numb. Banishment, under a pretty name. She never thought--he would never--except he was doing it now. "And I cannot decline this appointment?"

           "No."

           "I didn't realize you hated me that much."

           "I don't," he snarled. "But you will respect your king."

           She stamped a foot. "You know why I disagree--"

           "Silence!"

           That was it. Her mind raced through the memories at her beck and call: of previous kings who were cruel like this, twisted by something deep inside, unwilling to take counsel, willing to hurt others in order to stay their path towards self-destruction.

           The only remedy was time and waiting.

           Could she wait? She clutched her hands to her chest. He was her best friend, her only family left in the Forest. He was also hurting deep inside from something he refused to talk to her about and there was nothing she could do. He was her King, and he was sending her away from home into a nest of something more vicious than wasps.

           She bowed her head, so he wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing her tears. "I honour and obey my King," she intoned, words from an ancient memory.

           "You leave with the dawn."

#

2: The Path To Good Revenge

             Ambassador Sylvia arrived on a leaf drawn by four dragonflies, her grip on the reins tighter than necessary because she was so furious... and nervous. There was so much open air on the Meadow, and the wind threatened to knock her over a few times. The good thing about having eight legs was a solid sense of balance.

           A company of guards came to meet with her, demanded her to halt. Fliers, she grumbled internally. Most goblins were grounded, but Bog did take his wings for granted regularly.

           "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but if I stop, I will fall," she said politely. "My intentions are peaceful, and my business is with the Royal Family."

           "What is that business?" the leader of them demanded.

           Friendship, apparently, she thought, but it sounded stupid to say, so she smiled sweetly instead. "That is for the Royal Family to hear. Will you escort me to an audience with King Dagda?"

           "Madam, the King does not take to goblin interlopers lightly!"

           "Good, that makes him a wise man. Also a good thing that I'm not an interloper."

           That seemed to flabbergast the lead fairy. Finally, he nodded. "We'll take you there. But if you try anything..."

           "You would be doing your job. Yes, I'm sure." She tossed her hair out of her face and lifted her chin. She would keep her dignity here.

           The palace loomed ahead, and the lead fairy guard gestured for her to land on a platform, clearly built for fliers. She leapt out of her makeshift chariot, and the fairy guards stepped down to surround her.

           "What is your name?" she asked the leader.

           He blinked at her. "Captain Nathaniel."

           A ranked officer, then. "Captain Nathaniel, thank you for your company's service."

           He was definitely not expecting that. She refrained from smirking. She knew how these folks pretended to be civilized. She had never enjoyed the advantages of having foremother memory so much before. Here, in the Fairy realm, where they obviously did not remember a damn thing, she had something to help.

           The Fairy King was obviously not expecting to see anyone that day, since the throne room was devoid of courtiers. But maybe these days the throne room was always this empty? Foremother memory was definitely not helping with regards to the niceties of the Fairy Court.

           The King himself was on his throne. A large, round man, he, with wide green eyes, and green armour. The crown, she recognized. Most everything else, no. She curtsied as low as she could. "Salutations, Your Majesty, I, Sylvia of the Dark Forest, come as ambassador to open lines of communication between our lands, upon orders of the Bog King." Let him think the Bog King actually wanted this.

           Hurried footsteps echoed in a hallway outside, and a slip of a girl burst in from a door to the side of the throne. "I heard-! I came as soon as-!" she huffed, and stopped, amber eyes widening.

           Sylvia took a few steps back to look less threatening. She knew how she looked: the upper body that might look like a fairy's, save for the carapace on her torso, and the lower body of a spider. Even among goblins, her form was extreme. She had considered wearing clothes, but she had been a bit too furious to consider spinning something up. Besides, the Royal Family had the right to at least see her full form.

           She curtsied again. "You must be Crown Princess Marianne." She held out the scroll. "The Bog King received your message."

           "Oh! He did! Amazing!" the princess literally squeaked with delight, any fear melting from her in excitement. She gripped her father's arm and shook it a little, uncaring of protocol. "Father, a goblin in our court! The first in generations!"

           "Marianne!" Dagda scolded. "What did you do??"

           Marianne drew back a little, defensive. "I... I sent a message. I... I may have thrown it over the border and... hoped for the best?" She turned to Sylvia. "How does he respond?"

           "He sent me. I'm to be Ambassador until relations have been established to our kingdoms' mutual benefit." She made the last part up easily. Bog had never said, just packed her off. She wrote to several goblin elders last night to request their cooperation in the foolish endeavour. She could pretend to be productive in exile.

           Plus, this little princess seemed like a total treasure. She would drive Bog up the wall. He would deserve it.

           The total treasure's hands were clasped in complete and utter delight. "Father, did you hear that? It worked!"

           King Dagda was rubbing a hand over his face. "Marianne, you can't just--it's not that simple! You have to think about what the Kingdom wants! I can't--the Council will--"

           "I'll talk to the Council," Marianne declared. "You've always wanted me to attend those meetings, anyway, and you're right, it's time I got started! Father, please, look--" she gestured at Sylvia--"she came all this way! Surely we're not going to turn her away."

           "I hope not," Sylvia muttered, a bit too loudly. She saw the King narrow his eyes at her for speaking out of turn. "I am not allowed back, Your Majesty, until my task is complete," she said shame-facedly. "The Bog King is not known for his tolerance to failure."

           "See? Father!" Marianne was back to shaking King Dagda's arm insistently. "Let her stay! Please?"            

           King Dagda looked between her and the goblin, clearly torn between wary apprehension and fatherly guilt. "But my dear, we know nothing about... about..." She could be dangerous, he wanted to say.

           Sylvia nodded. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, if I may elucidate further on the current economy of the Dark Forest, perhaps we can find someplace to start."

           Marianne beamed. "Yes! I'd love to learn more about the Dark Forest!"

           She was going to unleash the princess on Bog, Sylvia decided. She was going to work so hard to make the impossible possible, because she liked little Marianne, and right now she hated Bog so much she was setting aside generations' worth of prejudice against fairies to spite her stupid, surly king. She would bend her foremothers' memory to helping Marianne be a good Queen, because the princess was going to kick Bog's ass, metaphorically or literally, it didn't matter. Bog was going to get killed with kindness. Served him right.

#

3: Weaving The Web

             Ambassador Sylvia was housed in a set of apartments to the eastern wing of the castle. She had a bedroom, a bathroom, and a receiving room, which was all she needed, but also clearly all she would receive. Theoretically, she was allowed to roam the Kingdom. In practice, she couldn't go anywhere unless she had permission from her assigned bodyguard.

           That would be Captain Nathaniel, who, she gathered, was considered experienced enough with Court protocol to know who she could speak to within the Palace and beyond, strong enough to take her down if she tried anything, and smart enough to know where she was allowed to go. He was also the only one who could tolerate her presence without gagging, if the faces of the people she passed was any indication.

           To mitigate that effect, she spun herself a dress that covered her lower body completely. She looked like a wingless fairy wearing an extremely large skirt, if one didn't peer too closely at the feet under the hem. It was also long-sleeved and high-necked, giving the air of excessive modesty. Sylvia wasn't sure how immune the fairies were to her skin, which could be poisonous to some goblins but not others, and she frankly wasn't about to try to find out.

           Captain Nathaniel's reaction to the dress was satisfying, at the very least.

           The princesses were another matter. Sylvia had been surprised when they came to call on her almost as soon as she had settled in. They were both curious chatterboxes with bright happy laughter. Princess Dawn was very much what Sylvia had expected of a fairy girl: graceful and charming, if very young. Princess Marianne, however, was something else: opinionated, adventuresome, and surprisingly clumsy. The last, Sylvia would not have expected of a Fairy princess, much less the Crown Princess.

           They were so sweet, though, those girls. As soon as they had seen Sylvia's dress, they immediately offered to send seamstresses to her, and gifted her with the petals the fairies used for their own dresses. Sylvia taught them old embroidery tricks in exchange. Dawn was thrilled; Marianne was curious, but such crafts were clearly not of interest.

           As Ambassador, Sylvia was invited to some of the Council meetings that were considered relevant. They were generally ones that dealt with trade, although she had been invited to one or two specifically about border talks thus far. She accepted every invitation, and spent time in the archives otherwise, learning everything she could.

           There was a lot of consternation at her first appearance. Angry councilors all but accusing her of spying, plotting evil, and destroying the kingdom. They demanded to know what the Dark Forest wanted, who she was really, what her true role at home was.

           So far, she had only made gentle suggestions and made polite requests for more information, because she was to understand the lay of the land before she proposed anything radical, and she, too, understood the chaos and upset that changes could bring. She was rewarded with sneering lectures about the grand history of the Fairy Kingdom, to which she nodded and made notes of, and compared to what she knew, what she remembered.

           She needed to do this. They had to get used to her at some point, and she needed all the ammunition she could garner. She could put up with all their aggressive posturing and interrogations.

           What surprised her was Marianne, who, despite her father's admonishments, argued with the staid old councilors, oh how she argued-! They were worse than the Elders of the Forest, who at least respected protocol enough to capitulate to Bog when Bog had been young and similarly feisty towards them. Perhaps because they knew they were there to serve the Bog King and help him rule. They were old and cranky because they had to be, to push the King's decision-making integrity. (That stupid love ban was made without their input, which just went to show how wrong-headed it was.)

           These fairy councilors just didn't seem to like a young spitfire. They muttered under their breaths about marrying her off as soon as possible, and prayed for a more... obliging king.

           If anything, Sylvia determined that she should stick it out for Marianne's sake, at least. There didn't seem to be any other women on the council, and it was heartbreaking to watch the old men try to browbeat their princess down.

           "You did well," Sylvia told Marianne during a recess, finally catching a moment alone with the princess.

           "You think so?" Marianne asked, sounding a little fatigued. "It doesn't feel that way. Is it always supposed to be like this?"

           "You will get better at this," Sylvia promised. "I don't know very much about your Fairy politics, but the Council will bend to you eventually. It's good you got started so early."

           "Marianne!" King Dagda called from the other side of the room.

           As the princess trotted off, Sylvia was accosted--she had no other word for how three old men were suddenly in front of her when she was trying to get more biscuits. She raised an eyebrow, looking around for Captain Nathaniel. "Gentlemen."

           "Gobliness, you shouldn't be speaking to Princess Marianne."

           Sylvia tilted her head inquiringly.

           "We don't know what the Dark Forest is playing at, but know that we'll defend the Fairy Kingdom with our last breath."

           "Don't you dare try to convert the princess to your filthy ways," another hissed at her.

           She munched at her biscuit, saying nothing.

           They glared at her, as if daring her to speak.

           The recess was over. As they filed back into the room, Sylvia felt Captain Nathaniel beside her.

           "Are you all right?" he asked in low tones.

           She put a hand on his arm, and smiled. Still silent, she sashayed into the meeting, ready to take more notes.

           She was descended of spiders, after all.

#

4: Family Secrets

             It only took two months before Ambassador Sylvia was stir-crazy from being confined to the Palace.  She picked a nice-looking afternoon when she felt reasonably sure very few people would be around to see her, and finally worked the courage to ask Captain Nathaniel if she was allowed out of the Palace, at least into some garden of some kind, because if she had to see more walls, she was going to build webs, and wouldn't that just terrify the staff, and she would actually do it.

           To his credit, he didn't blanche, and laughed instead.

           "I was wondering whether you were just a homebody," he admitted, still chuckling.

           "I certainly am not," she huffed. "I just didn't know what I was allowed to do. I am practically a prisoner here, Captain. You forget that I am the only goblin on the premises."

           He sobered a little. "I... I'm sorry, Madame Ambassador. I'll be a bit more forthright in the future in volunteering more information."

           "That would be nice."

           "There are some palace grounds. I'm afraid they're not that interesting on the ground--it has interesting rock formations for flying around."

           "Ah, for fliers, then."

           Nathaniel smiled crookedly. "Is that what you goblins call us?"

           "No, it's what wingless goblins call those with wings. Surely you have people here without wings, Captain. Elves? Brownies? What do they call you?"

           "Lords and ladies." Captain Nathaniel shrugged, his expression sardonic.

           "Oh, you have a sharp tongue. I like that very much, Captain."

           Captain Nathaniel had the grace to blush, and gestured gallantly for her to follow him. He politely refrained from flying off and showed her the appropriate staircases down.

           The gardens were not much to look at, but they were green and colourful. Sylvia squinted at the sunny sky overhead. Without trees, the sunshine was rather strong. The rock formations, however, were very interesting. Not that Captain Nathaniel could tell her anything about them.

           The sound of wood thwacking against rock caught her attention, and she approached it to see the Crown Princess, wielding a stick and attacking a rock piece. She put all her might into it, yelling every time she hit it.

           "Your stance needs to be wider, Your Highness," Sylvia called.

           Marianne yelped and fell backwards. "Madam Sylvia!" She got up hastily, running a hand through her tousled hair. "Uh... how long were you there for?"

           "Not very long. Is this how you spend your lazy afternoons? I thought all you fairies napped in preparation for nighttime parties, or something."

           "Well... it's the only time no one's around," Marianne muttered, kicking something. "Promise you won't tell my Dad?"

           "Uhm." Sylvia turned to Nathaniel, eyebrow raised. "I feel I'm missing something here. Why wouldn't your father want you training?"

           "Girls apparently don't belong in the army." Marianne made a face. "They don't fight."

           "But that's... not... true? Even among Fairy Queens? Queen Eresdia fought with a spear in one hand and a broadsword in the other. Then there was the Army of Thorns which was comprised of all women. Also, Queen Melinda, also known as the May Fire Queen, was quite proficient with any blade from yea-short to yea-long." Sylvia used her hands to demonstrate the length. "I don't know what they were called, though. The memory gets fuzzy on that kind of detail." She noticed the two fairies staring at her, and put a hand to her mouth. "Oops."

           "I... had heard of the May Fire Queen, and the other names are familiar, but never that they fought." Captain Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. "How would you know those things?"

           "Ah, well." Sylvia scratched her head. "I suppose it had to come out eventually. A few, very few, species of goblins are born with the memories of the generations before. We call it foremother memory, though sometimes it is forefather memory." She tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "It isn't perfect, and some of us have completely different memories of the same events sometimes, because different people have different interpretations of the same thing, obviously! But I do have several foremothers who have battled the fairy queens in the past. Personally, even." She grinned at Marianne. "So you see, princess, whoever taught you that girls don't fight, are wrong. Even in goblin songs, the most fearsome foes have been fairy queens."

           "A Living Memory. I thought your kind a myth." Captain Nathaniel pursed his lips, frowning. "This is information you should divulge to the King, Madam Ambassador."

           "It just hasn't come up." Sylvia waved a hand. "Also it is never a good idea to tell kings this sort of thing. They usually try to kill you for it."

           "Not fairy kings!" Marianne gasped.

           "I assure you, Princess, fairy kings, and goblin kings. There are very few of us as a result." It was half the truth, but they didn't need to know that. Anyway, it made her sad to think about.

           "So not all goblins are like you?" Marianne pressed further. "What other species of goblin can remember things?"

           "Mostly us spiders, and the Swarm, of course. Bees have a collective consciousness, you know."

           "Madam Ambassador," Captain Nathaniel firmly said. "You have to tell the King that you're a Living Memory."

           "Or what," Sylvia scoffed.

           "Or I will tell him myself."

           Sylvia stiffened, taking in the grim line of her guard's mouth and the furrow of his brow.

           He flushed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I understand that it's a--a family secret. But I have my duty to the King, too."

           "I just told the Princess. Doesn't count?"

           "Nice try. No."

           "Ugh." Sylvia rolled her eyes. "Fine. Get me an audience with the King, and I'll tell him." She looked down at Princess Marianne. "Before that, though, perhaps, Princess, you need further instruction."

           Sylvia relished the delight on Marianne's face, almost as much as she relished the long-suffering roll of Nathaniel's eyes as she browbeat him into teaching Marianne.

#

5: History Will Hurt You

             It was inevitable, perhaps, that her lineage would spill out in Council meetings. Well, the King called it her lineage. She just called it a family thing. When she had told King Dagda, she had demanded political immunity.

           A meeting about border talks, and just how much trade to let through. Sylvia had been focusing on deep breathing, because they were counting in terms of how many individual caravans should be allowed through per year, which was so asinine it was taking a lot of willpower to not scream, or get up and leave. Among her notes were goblin elders similarly grousing about trade and allowing fairies into the Dark Forest. Well, only two, because those were the only ones who cared enough to write her back. Captain Nathaniel vetted all her letters, so she couldn't even pour her frustrations out in paper to Auntie Griselda, or yell at Bog for not responding to her reports.

           Perhaps she could have been more measured in her response, a bit more careful in how she replied, but hindsight was clearer than the moment.

           "We must consider how this will affect our own economy," some windbag called Glaucus was pontificating. "In the height of King Samiel's reign, we allowed caravans to pass through, and that was enough to bring down the dynasty!"

           Marianne had made a face. "But King Samiel was a peacekeeper, and the war following wasn't because of the trade caravans... it was a civil war between two noble houses-"

           "Marianne." King Dagda had frowned.

           Marianne, already worn down for the day, bowed her head. Sylvia wanted to smack the King. What was it with this generation of kings, she wondered. Why was she cursed with them?

           "King Samiel's reign was the most prosperous in a ten-generation range. Nobody in the markets even cared about the petty civil war between House Nikel and House Reale, although there was a very good tragic play about it. I believe you call it Rome and Rosalind. The dynasty fell four generations after, because his great grandson was assassinated by a Duke. Big news. The Forest talked about the murder for weeks, because it involved a very interesting arsenic compound, or some such."

           Sylvia stopped there, smiling at Marianne. "I think you have been a very good student, Your Highness."

           "Hoo boy," she heard Captain Nathaniel, standing right behind her, mutter under his breath, too low for anyone else to hear.

           The councillors, however, were aghast. "How would you know that?" Glaucus snapped.

           "Madam Sylvia," King Dagda said, holding a hand up for silence. "While your Living Memory is useful, I don't believe what you've shared is relevant to this conversation, which is about the present time."

           The hubbub flared up instead. A Living Memory -- right here? -- she's a Living Memory -- they're extinct! -- she must have read it somewhere -- can she even read? -- stupid thing to say anyway --

           "Your Majesty, you may be right, but then, neither are Sir Glaucus' words, because he was the first one to bring up a king five hundred years dead." She took a moment to consult her notes on a more recent historical note. "Perhaps we should look to your grandfather's time, then, as a model? A single market, held every two years, right at the border. It lasted all the way until the Winter Famine of Three Seasons, and was simply never picked up again." Due to fairy resistance, she mentally added. Granted, the Forest Royals were never crazy about it either. Goblin commoners and elves liked it just fine.

           "And you, what, remember that?" Glaucus sneered.

           "I remember the festivals, yes, but not quite the dates, which I found in your archives." She folded her hands on the table to give him a serene smile. "I'm not stupid enough to think that you would take Living Memories seriously."

           "Living Memories are extinct," he asserted.

           She held her hands up. "Why, what a surprise. I must be some mass hallucination of this Council, then."

           "Or you, Madam, are a fraud!"

           She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and steepling her hands. What did she know about this one? Ah, yes. "House Erendl hired one of my ancestresses once. She was working as a mercenary, internecine war and all that, a little under a hundred years ago. A drop of poison into the goblet of the patriarch of House Fyrel. She was so smug, because no one knew how she did it."

           "What?" someone shouted from down the table. "Lord Norrel died of a heart attack!"

           "Which threw the whole house into a tizzy, destabilizing the household and allowing House Erendl to offer aid, in the form of assimilating House Fyrel, and all of its assets, into itself." She smiled brightly. "That's from your history books. Now, my ancestress had been in the rafters of the dining hall and spit a bit of venom into his drink. Here's the good bit: if the hall still stands, there's a little scratch on the top western corner of the room, reading 'Latish was here' in fairy script."

           That someone down the table gasped. "That... how did you... but Latish was a joke! He's supposed to be an elf!"

           "Latish is not an elf name, come on. It is a very spider name." She leaned back. "But let's be honest here, how should a northern spider know about such a specific family joke here in the Fairy Kingdom?"    

           "This meeting is adjourned. We will table the consideration of caravan trade until next fortnight," King Dagda declared. "Madam Sylvia, stay."

           Sylvia stayed still as everyone else in the room filed out, outraged whispers abounding. Marianne insisted on staying too, but King Dagda shot her a quelling look.

           Finally, it was just her, and maybe Nathaniel was behind her, she didn't care to check, and King Dagda.

           "Madam Sylvia, we... appreciate... your support of our daughter."

           Oh, the royal 'we'.

           "However, we would rather not have her outbursts encouraged at meetings. Not to mention that flagrant display of your Living Memory." He frowned. "We are at peace now, Madam Sylvia, and we would like to keep it that way."

           "Of course, Your Majesty. Sparking a feud anew would be... awkward."

           The king nodded. "We will request your advice in the future. Be assured that your presence remains most welcome at the table."

           He was a very bad liar, this king. "Your Majesty, if I may ask..."

           "Yes?"

           "What do you think of the goblins, and of the Dark Forest?"

           He blinked at her now, blank-faced. "I, well..."

           Dropping the royal 'we'. He must have been very surprised.

           Sylvia watched as he fumbled through some platitudes about the two kingdoms co-existing in peace for the last several centuries with no trouble, and she wondered if he genuinely believed that. It was hard to know what the memory-less knew about the past. Did he genuinely think that the barely-contained disgust that his fairy council had for her and her kind was because goblins were truly less civilized, prone to violence, and hideous? Or was he willfully blind, purposefully ignoring the Purging Century, when fairies burned down the Forest to create the Kingdom they called the Bright Meadow, hunted down goblins to decimate them? The memories swirled in her mind's eye, unbidden. There had never been any healing for the foremothers.

           When he was done, she nodded.

           "Good day, Madam Ambassador," the King said, and rose from his seat to leave. She waited until he had closed the door behind her before she, too, rose (though not from a chair; the advantage to being a spider was that she didn't need a seat. She just rested on her belly).

           Captain Nathaniel had been behind her all along. "That was the most exciting thing I've witnessed," he said, good humour playing at his lips. "I think I'm in the wrong line of work."

           She gave him a wan smile, still overwhelmed by the whole thing. Shouldn't have asked the King that question, she thought. But she had to know. Had to find out, in order to decide how to best proceed.

           The fairy guard held an arm out to her. She regarded it a moment, brow knitting in confusion, then relaxed. It was a peace offering, a gesture of solicitude. She took the arm, aware of how thin it was in her hand, how fragile, how easily her talons could cut through his skin. It was easy to forget he was a fairy sometimes, since he stood tall even among fairies. As he led her back to her rooms, passing by fairies who looked at them askance and greeted him with a question marks in their voices, she let herself be a little sad. For all her Living Memory--what a joke of a title--it didn't seem to make a bit of difference here.

           He opened the door for her, and she brushed past him to get in, wanting more than anything to lie down.

           "Madam Ambassador," he said suddenly as the door was closing.

           She stopped, inquiringly.

           He took a moment to find his words. "I thought... it was very kind of you to defend Her Highness the way you did."

           "That is what we are supposed to do for the young, Captain."

           "Of... of course." He snapped a salute. "Good afternoon, Madam Ambassador."

#

6: Letters

             "To His Majesty, the Bog King of the Dark Forest, under whose shade we may ever find shelter,

           "I respectfully request a response to my latest reports on the possibility of a market on the border between the Dark Forest and Bright Meadow. I am given to understand that Elder Abrax and Elder Johan have expressed their full support of the idea to you.

           "I look forward to your answer.

           "Your humble servant."

           She hoped he choked on his guilt.

             "Dear Aunt Griselda,

           "I am so, so, so sorry that I have not written you all these months. The Fairy authorities have apparently been withholding your letters from me all this while! Also, I have a guard who reads all my letters, which is so embarrassing, and I was so mad so I didn't really want to write anyway.

           "I am also sorry to hear that my dearest cousin, who I love with all my heart but who I am definitely still angry at, continues his 'ban on love.' I utterly agree that it is a singularly foolish idea, but what can be done, he's the King, or so he made clear to me before he sent me on this mission. I gather that he continues to ignore your admonitions, but I don't think any word from me is going to help any.

           "The Fairy Kingdom is something else! There are all sorts of rules here that are obviously very new, or at least I don't remember them at all, nor even my foremothers. There are five different forks at the dinner table, and ten different colours to signal one's interest in the opposite sex. None of which I am allowed to wear, because I am a goblin, after all, and am not supposed to be interested in fairy men. I had a very snooty protocol minister tell me this, and you will be proud of me for my response: 'your ancestors had no problem mating with mine back in the day.' I am still very pleased with this answer, and I thought I would share.

           "The princesses are adorable, and they make my stay worthwhile. Such open hearts. Their best friend is an elf, even, from a nearby village. He visits them often, and they play together on the palace grounds. It's quite the sight, and apparently a source of consternation. The elder girl is a fiesty one, so full of fire and big ideas for what she wants to do as Queen. The Councilors, who are all elderly men struggling to remain relevant in this day and age, are trying to snuff her out. I am going to support her the best I can, but I worry for the child. She has few fairy friends, and among her peers, she does stand out a bit strong, not because she's a princess.

           "The winter was terrible. The fairies 'huddle' for warmth during the cold season, which means to say all the fairies pack themselves into the castle and live in extremely close quarters for several months. It was an awful experience and I am still recovering. They said they're the traumatized ones, having to deal with my spider-legs, ha! Thank goodness for spring! I am going to hibernate next year.

           "I run out of parchment now, but I will try to keep writing. Is Bog really having the primroses cut down on his side of the border? People are talking about the fearsome Bog King who has imprisoned the Sugar Plum Fairy and banned love. I have had to bite my tongue more than once in the face of certain concerned queries.

           "Do keep writing, auntie dearest! Your letters do my heart such good!"

             She considered making a saucy remark about her bodyguard, because his usually-sallow face is so becoming with a blush. However, he had to maintain a professional distance, and he hadn't really done anything to deserve the discomfort of a goblin flirting with him.

             "Dear cousin,

           "Your reputation is making my job difficult for me this side of the border.

           "Stop it already.

           "Your loving cousin."

             That was probably not the wisest note to send off, but it felt good.

             "To her wonderful highness, Princess Marianne,

           "What a lovely note you sent! I am so touched by your concern. Yes, it is indeed a cold, as I am unused to your weather here. Your architecture is so drafty! But the doors hold and I am not unlocking them until I have recovered fully. Even if you did break it down, you will not be able to get me out of my web, anyway.

           "Do not worry for me! I am resting well, and we spiders can go for quite some time without food if we have eaten a great deal beforehand. Captain Nathaniel has done his job very well in this regard. I hope your father promotes him.

           "I know council meetings are very hard on you, but they will get easier over time. Have courage, highness! Remember, you are their Crown Princess and your words carry a weight they can only dream of."

             She slipped that under the door out, knocking for Captain Nathaniel to pick it up and deliver it. Then she crawled into the large cocoon-like web she made to completely encase her for the next few days. She would have to make something for Nathaniel, though, because he had walked in on her as she made it and she had been so frenzied in the process she almost ate him. That had not been her finest moment, and thank goodness it was Nathaniel and not anybody else. He was hard to throw off, that one. Sylvia respected that.

             "Dear Auntie Griselda,

           "So much has been going on! Princess Marianne finally made her official debut into fairy society and it was a very grand celebration. She still keeps her treasured talents a secret from her father, and there is something so awkward, so straining to watch. She needs a mother figure! I wish you were here. You would know just what to say. I have foremother memory, of course, but that is not the same as having raised my own child. I am doing my best. Channel me some of your spirit!

           "However, why do you insist on inflicting Bog on these poor girls you keep mentioning to me? Any girl who'll willingly put up with that surly temper is not fitting Queen material, Auntie. That said, if you find a woman willing to challenge him to a real fight, let me know. I'll defy his edict to return and watch that.

           "I do believe that over time, my presence in this Court has made something of a difference. The princesses are unafraid of me, and this is setting the tone for many of the people who see them regularly. There is talk of letting me leave the Palace grounds, even, to visit the nearby towns and villages. I will not lie: the idea does make me feel like an exhibit, but the princesses are such sweet girls, so curious about the Dark Forest. Do talk to Bog about a possible visitation from the Fairy princesses, Auntie, because they will not stop asking, and I promised them I would try.

           "My former bodyguard, Captain Nathaniel, no longer watches over me. He has been replaced by a rotating company of protocol advisors. I even have an elf secretary, which is a strange feeling. All these years, I've always played secretary to Bog, and now here I am with my own secretary! I do believe this is Marianne's--Princess Marianne's--influence. She is small, but mighty.

           "In your next letter, I wonder if you could slip me some herbs from the Dark Forest to cook with? Or at least make some tea? Fairy food is nice but it is nothing like food from home. I would say that I'd kill for a good meat jerky but that might alarm the person who vets my letters."

             She didn't say she missed Captain Nathaniel, because the last thing she needed was for Aunt Griselda to take an interest in her nonexistant love life, even from afar.

           But she missed his quiet presence a great deal. Incredible how calming he was, compared to the other fairies who nervously stuttered every time she answered the door.

             "Dear Councilor Nathaniel,

           "Thank you for the congratulations and well-wishes on my new house. It is strange to think of it as a home--it is still, in my mind, on the wrong side of the primroses. You are, of course, welcome to visit it anytime you like, so long as you give me prior notice.

           "It is now my turn to tender you a hearty congratulations on being appointed to the legislative council. I am still trying to understand what it means, being from a foreign land with a very different form of government, but I am sure you are well-qualified for it.

           "I look forward to your future accomplishments as councilor."

             That was strangely awkward to write. She fiddled with the last line for a long time. Glancing at the wastebasket, she cringed at the drafts: ones where she accidentally still called him "Captain," ones she thought perhaps sounded too intimate (no one read her letters anymore but it was still embarrassing, though she wasn't sure why), ones that sounded too formal. What was the right balance of warm and professional?

           The house, right on a brook between Sunny's village and the castle, was large, larger than the houses in the village, which made her feel awkward. These common folk, who have lived here longer than she ever did, living in much smaller, modest homes. She didn't deserve the house she got, she mused. But it was spacious enough for her needs, maybe too big, but that was filling up with the projects she was filling her time with. More weaving, more music, and more paperwork.

           From her highest window, she could see the Dark Forest, the huddled trees beckoning to her. She tried not to look at it too often. The pang in her heart wasn't worth the view.

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7: A Spring Ball

             Councilor John was a portly fairy man who was from a merchant family that had bought its way up the ranks. He had recently been appointed to the trade council, and was one of the very few--well, maybe the only one--who openly supported trade with the Dark Forest.

           He was also a bit of a windbag, which Sylvia politely tolerated even though she would like nothing more than to just go home. An hour in his company was quite enough to tire her out for the rest of the evening. But Sylvia had no other company at the ball, so she allowed him to monopolize her time. It wouldn't be the first time a social function like this one was occupied by business for her.

           The Spring Ball was otherwise lively: Marianne was the life of the party, sweet and happy as she flew among the other young fairies in the upper half of the room. The older folks sedately mingled on the floor, talking shop, drinking wine.

           "Good evening." They turned to see Nathaniel, standing ramrod straight as if he were still a soldier, though there was a slight relaxation to his stance.

           Sylvia smiled, relieved to see him. "Councilor."

           He nodded his head, returning the smile. "Madam Ambassador, it has been a while."

           "Busy, busy."

           "Councilor," he said to John. "Might I renew my acquaintance with Ambassador Sylvia? It has been a while since I saw her last, and you see her practically every week."

           "Of course, Councilor," John said, looking vaguely amused. "Nothing like the company of an intelligent woman, eh?"

           Nathaniel guided her away with a gentle hand on her elbow, towards a quieter corner of the ballroom. "You looked like you were about to faint there."

           She laughed. "My hero. I might have." Then she softened, taking in his face. There were a few more lines than she had seen there before. "How have you been? I was... surprised to discover that you were no longer working with the castle guard." Disappointed, more like, and even moreso when she heard he had requested the transfer.

           "Adapting to council life has been a little hard," he admitted. "But it was time for a career change, in no small part thanks to you." He grinned at her, which made him look years younger.

           "Me?"

           "I joined the guard to defend the Royal Family, as you know. Watching you at council, defending our princess, made me realize that that was where the true work is at."

           "Why..." she was speechless, and put a hand to her mouth to hide her pleasure. "It, uhm... it must be a different world for you now."

           "Oh yes, one with a few more freedoms, like this one."

           "Like what?"

           He glanced to the orchestra, then smiled at her. "A dance, Madam Ambassador?"

           She blinked. She had seen the fairy dances, and Marianne and Dawn had taught her the steps, because of course they would, but no one had ever asked her before. "You realize I have eight feet, which raises your chances of getting your feet stepped on?"

           "I also know your feet are set very far apart from mine, so I think we'll be fine."

           "Also that you can't twirl me around?"

           "Madam Ambassador, if you don't want to dance, I shan't take offense. We can take a mooonlit walk instead."

           She drew a sharp breath. "Councilor." She held out her hand. "Let's see if you can lead as well as you flirt."

           He could. It was a simple waltz, with no embellishing movement, quick enough that her skirts swished, slow enough that they fell into a comfortable rhythm and chatter.

           "Are there no dances in the Dark Forest?" he asked.

           "There are, but not quite so formal like this. The formal ones are often solo performances designed to attract mates." She grinned. "And thus only danced by men." She thought his grip on her hand got a little tighter, and amended. "There are some groups with their own dances. We spiders do fun things with webbing."

           "It must be a sight to see."

           "Oh, it's marvelous." She sighed, suddenly homesick. "On spring evenings, right after the rains, we challenge each other to dance on the webs without disturbing the dewdrops."

           "No music?"

           She laughed softly. "Councilor, our webs are also instruments." She didn't think about it often. Wearing skirts meant hiding access to her spinnarets. "Do you play?"

           He shook his head. "I'm afraid my physical skills are limited to combat. Are you still giving Princess Marianne secret lessons, by the way?"

           "Occasionally. I try to meet with her once a week. She's easily distractable, which does terrible things for her footwork."

           "A shame. She seems very capable. Perhaps I'll join you sometime."

           She smiled. "I think Her Highness would appreciate that."

           As the song ended, they walked off the floor, his hand on the small of her back as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Someone waved to him from the side of the room, and before she could say anything, he was leading her there, too.

           "Donna," he greeted the waving fairy woman, one in a clump of four other fairy women. "Madam Ambassador, may I introduce my sister and her friends, Karen, May, Olivia, and Rain."

           "Madam Ambassador," Donna said, her face unreadable. It was clear to Sylvia that the sister expected Nathaniel to not bring the goblin ambassador over. "Nathaniel, is this the goblin you were guarding last year?"

           He nodded.

           Sylvia stuck out a hand. "A pleasure."

           Donna seemed to recover her sense of courtesy and took her hand, if hesitantly. Sylvia asked them all their houses, families, and took careful mental notes on who had which expressions.

           They were all married, these women, no Spring debutantes. Sylvia felt she ought to be relieved to be around women her age, but their faint air of arrogance left much to be desired. They were friendly enough, and gossipy enough that when Nathaniel walked off to fetch a drink, they pressed in eagerly.

           "Nathaniel hasn't danced with a woman in ten years," Donna said, much impressed. "We're all very shocked, because we were convinced he joined the castle guard to be around men."

           Sylvia was caught very short by this sudden turn. "Councilor Nathaniel and I have only recently renewed our acquaintanceship. I haven't seen him in a year."

           "Even during winter?"

           "I hibernate in winter, Lady Donna." That wasn't strictly true, as winters in the Dark Forest weren't quite as bitingly cold. Still, Foresters got a lot of sleeping done in winter. Spring was a period of extended morning grouchiness as a result. "The first winter I joined the Huddle, but the second year I needed much needed time alone." She smiled faintly. "I'm sure everyone appreciated my absence."

           "Oh no, Madam Ambassador!" This was Karen. "Some of us were actually quite worried for you! We had to have the elves check on your residence."

           "Is it true that everyone goes naked in the Dark Forest?"

           "Is it true that the Bog King has imprisoned the Sugar Plum Fairy? How did he do it?"

           "Is it true that goblins have--"

           "Is it true--"

           Sylvia managed to stutter her way through some of the most awkward and possibly also most offensive questions she had ever fielded. So much for women being more genteel than men here. But her good grace must have done something, because eventually they moved onto her dress, and invited her to their embroidery circle.

           When Nathaniel came to extricate her with ostensibly another dance, she almost fell into his arms in relief. "I'm leaving right after this," she gasped.

           "That bad?"

           "I mean, they are nice, but I'm not used to talking so much! And I thought the princesses were chatterboxes!"

           "Oh no, don't you know, Madam Ambassador, chattering is the default mode of a fairy?"

           She glowered at him. "Are you trying to make me hate my job, Councilor?"

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8: Duo

             Crown Princess Marianne of the Bright Meadow was in love. Dawn told Sylvia one day as they said embroidering together. "She met him at the Spring Ball, and he danced with her all night. Do you think I'll meet someone at the Spring Ball?"

           It was hard to remember how small Dawn had been just a few scant years ago. "Life holds no such promises. Watch your lines."

           Sylvia tried very hard to like him, but within a month, she decided she hated him.

           She couldn't tell Marianne, who was so happy, beaming on the young man's arm at every function, nor Dawn, who would probably just tell her sister. So she ranted at Nathaniel instead.

           "He is a blithering idiot! And dragging her to his level. She barely talks at council now, and everytime I look at her notes she's doodling his name somewhere. I get that it's young love, but come on. And he encourages this! Marianne doesn't need to go to council, because when he is King, he will handle it! Marianne doesn't need to worry her 'pretty little head' because when he is King, he'll take care of her! It makes me want to gag!"

           Nathaniel, in turn, leaned back in his chair and looked up at her, because she was pacing on her ceiling. There was too much furniture on the floor. For a flier culture, there was a lot of floor furniture, she felt, so she paced on her walls and ceiling instead.

           "I asked her to bring him to council meetings, and he apparently refused! And she sees nothing wrong with that! How can you claim to want to be King and then refuse to at least participate in the conversations which Kings are supposed to be in?"

           "It's only been two months, Sylvia. Give them time." Nathaniel picked up his report again.

           "It only takes a single blow to ruin a masterpiece," Sylvia lamented. "Look at my cousin. He used to be smarter, until one love affair ruined him, and possibly for life."

           "I thought you said the Bog King was always recalcitrant, and surly, and uncooperative."

           "Yes well, he at least used to be able to see past his own nose. And Marianne's form has gotten sloppy, just so you know. I'm no soldier, and even I can see that."

           "You underestimate your skills."

           Sylvia finished ranting and crossed her arms, taking a deep breath.

           "How is your cousin, by the way?"

           "Still an idiot."

           By this she meant, and she knew Nathaniel understood, that the Bog King had not written her any letters beyond official responses to her reports, terse notes on what he agreed with and what he did not want to see. They were far and few in between, but given that fairy councils dragged business on forever and a half, Sylvia couldn't really blame him.

           "What do you think of the young man, anyway?" She finally calmed down enough to walk down the wall and sit at the table, pouring herself a cup of tea.

           "Well... I was surprised, honestly. Roland had never really struck me as anything but military. His talk about being King seems to be more about wanting to be a match for Marianne than actual qualification for the job." He sipped his own tea. "But then, love matches aren't really about qualifications, are they?"

           "They are, for royals."

           Nathaniel raised an eyebrow over his teacup. "Then why aren't you married to the Bog King?"

           "You're adorable. Are you implying I'm qualified to be a royal?"

           "Implying? I feel I am outright stating."

           "Ha!" Sylvia rested her elbows on the table. "Spiders aren't really suited to being royalty. There have been two spider queens in the past, but they abdicated. Too much dealing with people. Too much pressure."

           "But advising the King is enough pressure? How is that much different from being Queen?"

           "It's a different set of responsibilities. Being Queen would have required too much personal proximity that interferes with advising the King. This much we agreed upon."

           Nathaniel blinked at her. "You, ah, were involved with the Bog King?"

           "Of course I was," she snorted. "We were best friends growing up. It was inevitable that we'd be dating at some point. But we were... closer, when we weren't romantically involved." She smiled pensively. "One day he'll meet someone, and she's going to be a lucky girl. If he finally snaps out of his ridiculous broody mode of life."

           They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, broken by a hesitant question. "And you? Do you ever hope to find someone?"

           Sylvia took a moment. It wasn't as though she had never thought about it. It was just so complicated.            

           "You don't have to answer that." Nathaniel picked up his report again.

           "No. I mean." She sighed. "It's difficult, for my people." She looked into her tea. "My people are called widows, you know?"

           "As in... the spiders who eat their husbands?"

           She nodded. "It has definitely happened. It was definitely a thing. But that's not the real problem. It's our skin. We're venomous, and our skin is sometimes poisonous to people. Not everyone, but some. And... and mating is a difficult thing for us. Because exchanging fluids is difficult. The more likely widows conceive from a mating, the more likely the mate wastes away and dies from poison."

           After a moment, Nathaniel leaned over and poured her more tea. "Is that why there are so few of you?"

           "Yes and no. There are fewer of us because... because of the Purging Century." She drank her tea, watching his reaction carefully. "Do you know of it?"

           He shook his head.

           "You call it the Clearing For the Field," she said quietly. "I... none of my foremothers... ever like to think of it. But we remember."

           He held her gaze steadily, and the lines around his eyes deepened with sadness.

           She took a deep breath. "That, and coupled with the fact that most of us don't want to be widows... we just end up... not having children." She laughed a little. "It's a little hard to do. It's no fun to have sex with someone who you'd want to kill anyway, but when it's someone you do want to be with, what can you say? 'I want to have your children but there is a fifty-fifty chance you'll die'? That probably isn't healthy for a relationship. And it's not good for the children either, who will remember."

           "There are no memories of mates who loved and gave themselves up willingly?"

           "Those are the worst memories. Ruined husbands. Wasting away. Why would anyone want to inflict that on a loved one willingly?"

           "Another reason to not be with the Bog King, I imagine."

           "Ha. No. His line is actually immune. Long line of kings and queens who survived poisoning by ingesting it and making it part of their blood. It would be my luck the one person I know to be safe would be someone I can't be with." She shrugged. "Luckily it's not a priority anyway. That was another thing Bog and I differed in."

           He nodded.

           It occurred to her, then, something someone else had said. "What's your story, Councilor Didn't-Dance-With-A-Woman-For-Ten-Years?" She lowered her head to rest it on an arm.

           He mimicked her shrug. "Not a priority." At her interested stare, he gave a small laugh. "I'm not joking. I simply don't feel the need, nor the desire. I aesthetically appreciate beauty, I suppose, but even during spring, when we're supposed to be at our most frisky, I simply don't get the urge."

           It was her turn to fill his cup with tea.

           "It's not that I never want to, but it is not necessarily tied to specific persons. And of course, one cannot cultivate any kind of physical affection with another without the expectations of... well."

           "Mm. It is nice to cuddle. That is one thing I miss."

           "How do you know if you're venomous to a person, anyway?"

           Sylvia thought for a moment. "It depends. Some people get a rash when they come in contact with us. Others feel sick afterwards. There have been cases of people just keeling over and dying. They don't call us the clan of poison kisses for no reason."

           He reached across the table, and touched her teacup. "May I?"

           Her gaze flicked between his face and her cup. "It'd be your funeral, but I'd rather you not die in my house. It would be terrible for foreign relations."

           "I'll fly out if I start feeling ill. Deal?"

           He didn't die that night. Nor the next. Nor the next. She didn't know why he insisted on taking that risk, but she appreciated it.

           Sylvia was comforted by the fact that she had one person in her life who seemed to dislike Roland as much as she did, though they weren't the only ones in the court who didn't support the match. Nathaniel also winced as the knight burst into song publicly, frowned as the Crown Princess squirmed in embarrassment and delight, and sighed as everyone gushed about how adorable the romance was. Eventually, though, it was clear that Nathaniel also hated Roland, but for some other different reason.

           A visit to a blacksmith, Nathaniel giving the excuse that he wanted to fetch something on the way to the palace. There was a training barracks nearby, and they spotted the princesses and some friends giggling as they hovered at the top of the fence, looking in.

           "I thought I should keep my hand in. Council meetings make me feel so soft after," Nathaniel was saying as he walked in.

           The blacksmith was an elf, large and robust for his people, who grinned as he saw the fairy and the goblin walk in. "Councilor! Madam Ambassador! Welcome!"

           "Master Kor. Is it done?"

           "Yes it is! For a while, actually. I wasn't sure when you wanted it, but, here." The blacksmith unwrapped something and handed it to Nathaniel. Sylvia, standing behind him at the door observing the girls, didn't notice at first, until he touched her shoulder.

           "Here."

           "Hm?" She registered that he was holding a weapon to her.

           "You favour the staff. I thought you might want one of your own."

           "Sorry, what?" she realized she was being very slow on the uptake, but the staff was a beautiful iron with filigree designs on both ends, twining around like wisps of mist.

           Or spiderwebs.

           She gingerly took the staff, weighing it in her hand, her mouth open in a silent "oh." She almost missed Kor handing a sword to Nathaniel.

           "Does the weight suit you, Madam Ambassador?" Kor asked eagerly. "Councilor Nathaniel only gave me the one you used for practice, but it's not the same thing."

           "Want to try it out?" Nathaniel nodded to the training barracks.

           "You realize that we don't use swords in the Dark Forest for a reason?" she drawled, letting him drag her by the hand to the gate. Past the grate she could see young soldiers practicing with each other.

           Dawn's voice pierced the air. "It's Sylvia!"

           Sylvia waved the staff at them. "Your Highnesses. Girls."

           "Are you duelling the Councilor, Sylvia?" Marianne called out enthusiastically. "Can we watch?" She climbed over the wall now, dropping in front of them. "Is that a new weapon? Can I see?"

           "Of course you may. Hold that for me a moment, please." Sylvia dropped the staff into Marianne's eager hands. "Now be aware, Councilor Nathaniel," she said as she started undoing the front buttons of her dress, "that you are about to fight a goblin." She threw off the dress, and her rightmost leg kicked it to the corner. "In case you needed a reminder of what you're up against," she told him at the sight of his raised eyebrow. It had been a while since she'd gone about without a dress.  

           "Madam Sylvia!" Dawn almost shrieked. "It's going to get dirty!" She swooped down to rescue the dress.

           The soldiers in the barracks had stopped, wide-eyed. Roland flitted over, flinty-eyed. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! What're you up to here, Councilor? Goblins not allowed in the barracks! We're supposed to be keeping them out!"

           "The Ambassador has political immunity, Lieutenant," Nathaniel said, shrugging off his coat. "And we shan't be long."

           "I'll leave as soon as I kick his ass," Sylvia promised, and the girls behind her laughed. She held her hand out to Marianne, who gave her back her staff.

           "Captain."

           "Pardon?" Nathaniel asked.

           "I'm Captain now."

           "Oh, that's nice." He drew out a little hourglass from a breastpocket. "Your Highness? Would you mind very much timing us?"

           "Oh, I'd love to!" Marianne held out her hands as Nathaniel tossed it to her.

           "Marianne!" Roland pleaded.

           "It'll be fine, Roland! It'll be fun! I've never seen them fight each other before!" She grinned up at him. "Ready?" she called, holding up the hourglass.  

           Nathaniel took his stance, and Sylvia checked her talons. "Anytime."

           "Go!"

           Despite Sylvia's relaxed opening stance, she met Nathaniel's sword easily. Twisting her body, she kicked at his legs with three of her own, almost throwing him off balance. He caught himself with his wings, landing blows. She jabbed and parried, he returned the blows with full force.

           Propelling himself with his wings, he landed a solid kick to her front carapace. She slid backwards, her hind legs keeping her upright, swinging the staff wide to parry his next blow coming at her side, and kicked him back. He flew up, preparing even more momentum.

           She flung a hand from her spinnarets and threw a thread up at his feet, snagging him and pulling.

           The girls gasped as she soared up while he fell, her legs wrapping around his front. She pulled the staff up to his neck, and he stopped it with his sword, uncomfortably close to his own nose. He spun higher and around, trying to throw her off, but her legs bit into him tighter. Too far above for anyone to see, she let one hand go of her staff, wrapping a hand around his neck.

           "In the Dark Forest, you'd be dead," she whispered into his ear as she curled her fingers and dug her talons into his neck. "Should have worn some armour, Councilor."

           "Time!" Marianne called from below.

           "Well, if I die tonight, you will have sex with me, right? Something to remember me by," he breathed, not really winded.

           "Ohhh, you, Councilor, are a true flirt!" She let go of his neck. "Can you get us down? I could let go, but the ground looks hard and I might sprain a foot."

           He was laughing as he lowered them down. She jumped off his back, grinning as she took her dress from Dawn.

           "A tie!" Marianne proclaimed.

           "No, she won," Nathaniel said off-handedly, rubbing his neck. "Sharp claws."

           "Really? We didn't see."

           "That's the point, Your Highness." Sylvia buttoned up, Dawn helping her adjust her skirts over her back legs.

           "Can you see it now, though?" Nathaniel pointed to his neck. "I might have to raise my collar." He touched the little red crescents. "That stings."

           "Let me see." She brushed her fingertips over the scratchmarks. "Hm, I did get you good."  

           "Madam Sylvia, your dress has a splotch!" Dawn complained. Sometimes she was a bossy mother hen of a thing.

           "That was the coolest thing!" The crown princess was clasping her hands together as she gushed. "Councilor, will you show me how that kick is done?"

           "Now now, Marianne!" Roland exclaimed. "Why would you need to learn that for?"

           "It looks cool!"

           "Babycakes, I'll do it for you if it means so much to you."

           "You'll teach me?" Marianne's excited squeal went up two octaves.

           "Uh, no... no, I mean that--"

           "Your Highness, if you'd like to stop by my house a week from now, Councilor Nathaniel can teach you that move." Sylvia fussed with Nathaniel's collar, helping him hide the clawmarks.

           "Can I come too?" Dawn asked. "I finished a piece I'd really like to show you."

           "You are always welcome, Your Highness," Sylvia said fondly.

           Behind them Roland made an unhappy noise as he stalked off to his soldiers.

           "That was really something!" one of them exclaimed.

           "A whole new fight style! We gotta find some goblins to spar with sometime."

           "That's disgusting," Roland sputtered. "I mean, yeah, it'd be interesting and make us better fighters, but still disgusting."

           Sylvia watched Marianne draw in a sharp gasp, and even Dawn had gone still. Nathaniel started walking towards the soldiers. "Nathaniel, no-" She sighed. "It's not a big deal."

           "It... it kinda is," Marianne muttered, embarrassed. She scratched the back of her head uncertainly. "Insulting a foreign dignitary can be grounds for arrest. I'll... I'll talk to him."

           "Can you?" Sylvia asked, then paused to think of the implications of the question that the crown princess had definitely caught.

           Nathaniel strode back, his gaze flinty, mouth set in a thin line.

           "That really wasn't necessary. I've heard much worse."

           He shook his head. "I know. From private citizens. But Roland is wearing his uniform, and saying that as a ranking officer. He needs to watch his mouth. He needs to learn," he continued, raising his voice, "especially if he wants to be King!"

           "Enough," Sylvia said quietly. "Councilor, I don't need more gossip about me from your defense."

           He frowned down at her. "It's a little late for that."

           And that was how Ambassador Sylvia found out that apparently she and Councilor Nathaniel were, in fairy words, a thing.

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9: Apology

             "Roland says sorry."

           Sylvia pulled the thread up, and made another knot. "For what?"

           "For... for insulting you the other week."

           "Captain Roland insulted me many times the other week. Which particular insult is he apologizing for?"

           Marianne sighed, dropping her face into her arms on the table. "I am so sorry. It's just... I'm sorry."

           "You have nothing to apologize for, Your Highness. You're not the one making the insults, are you?"

           It was a rare afternoon that Sylvia got to spend time with just the Crown Princess. It wasn't for lack of trying. When she wasn't in meetings, or studying, or performing some public function, Marianne spent her free time with her intended, Roland. He was off on some border patrol right now, and Marianne followed Dawn down to the elf village to visit Sunny. The two of them were off pulling some prank, and Marianne called on Sylvia instead.

           "Did he apologize to you, by the way, for insulting your sword?"

           "What? He didn't--" Marianne frowned, then sighed. "He didn't insult my sword."

           "He said, and I quote, 'what a cute little thing,' which I think implies that he doesn't take your weapon seriously. Which, I might add, you haven't been practicing with lately. You know you're naturally clumsy, Your Highness, that's why you need practice." Sylvia stopped and sighed herself. "Now it's my turn to apologize. I shouldn't be lecturing you like this. You know it better yourself."

           "No! I mean, you're right, I should be practicing, it's just--Roland really doesn't like me swordfighting."  

           "But you love swordfighting!"

           "But I love him too! Isn't loving a person worth more than loving something like swordfighting?"

           "No," Sylvia said flatly, foremother memory gauging the situation and recognizing that this needed an intervention. "It's not worth it to stop doing something you love, many things you love in your case, just for a man." She ran a finger through her hair, trying to think of what she could say. "Especially when he's not giving up anything for you."

           "He's going to be my King. That's got to be worth something." Marianne was pensive. "He's giving up an easy life to be my King."

           "He's not exactly broken up about that," Sylvia replied dryly. "Marianne, I just... I dislike seeing you like this. You shouldn't have to apologize because the guy you love is screwing things up. You should be with someone who makes you feel proud."

           "I am proud!" Marianne frowned. "I'm so, so unbelievably proud. I mean, look at him! He's so perfect!" She allowed herself a dreamy smile. "I can't believe how lucky I am to be with him sometimes. Don't you... don't you ever feel that way about Nathaniel?"

           "Marianne, don't switch the subject." Sylvia put her sewing down. "You are the Crown Princess of the Bright Meadow. You are brilliant, visionary, and compassionate." She reached across the table to take Marianne's hands. "You wouldn't be the first woman in the world to be worn down by a man blinding you with his charm, but believe me when I say, he's lucky to have you, not the other way around. He will be elevated above his peers. What do you stand to get?"

           Marianne gave her an uncertain look. "Love?"

           Sylvia sighed. "I'm sorry. I just. I know you love him. It just burns me to see that he doesn't really support your ideas, and he's to be your king. And politically, that's a problem for me, because you know how hard it's been to even get the council to even consider trade with the Dark Forest. And personally, that's a problem for me, because Roland doesn't like goblins, and I'm not about to get some magic spell to make me something else." She decided to change tactics, and turn the topic to something that would pull Marianne out of her morose mood. "Speaking of Kings, I finally heard from the Bog King, and he's agreed to the border market."

           "He did?" Mariane's face completely lit up.

           That's more like it. Sylvia nodded. "As long as the Fairy Kingdom arranges it, that is. Remember, the last time it stopped was because the Fairy Kingdom refused to help put it up."

           "That's so great! I'll ask Sunny if we can get the elves to help, too."

           "They'll be more likely to benefit, so that would be nice."

           "Could we have a festival of it, maybe? Like a party? That would be so much fun!"

           They pored over a map, to determine the best spot for a market. Sylvia would have to write for permission for the exact spot, since it was supposed to spill over. Griselda could help spreading word about the market, too. Finally. Finally they were getting somewhere.

           King Dagda's reaction, as Sylvia expected, was rather lukewarm. He recognized the benefits of the border market, but seemed less than concerned about organizing it.

           "This will be Marianne's project, Ambassador. I trust you will help her with it?"

           She nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty."

           "And notify Captain Roland, since it's his responsibility to secure the border."

           "I beg your pardon?"

           "Tell Captain Roland," the King said again patiently, "because we'll want to make sure it's kept orderly."

           "Is Your Majesty implying... that the border market will have increased crime rates because of its proximity to the Dark Forest?" Sylvia asked, eyes narrowing.

           "That will be for Captain Roland to determine," King Dagda snapped. "It's his job as future King to judge what's best for the people!"

           Sylvia drew herself up. "It is also Princess Marianne's duty and judgement, and she is the one inheriting the throne. When did the Fairy Kingdom start ignoring birthright over marital ties?"

           "Do not presume your Living Memory trumps my decision, Madam Ambassador." King Dagda paused, and sighed wearily. "I... We apologize, Madam Ambassador. It has been a long day."

           "Of course." It was mid-afternoon.

           "And... I understand your... misgivings about Captain Roland. He is not as open to increased contact as my daughter is, I see that. But... he will be my son-in-law, and I have to support him."

           King Dagda was lost to her. She recognized that immediately, even without the insight of foremother memory.

           Nothing would stop her from celebrating this one small victory, though. Years after arriving in this weirdly stuffy kingdom, with its incomprehensible rules and systems, its distasteful caste system, its petty noble houses, and its bickering councils, something was finally happening.

           There would be dancing, Marianne declared. Dawn was thrilled, even moreso when Sunny made arrangements for a concert.

           For the first time in years, Sylvia met goblins again, and she wept.  

           "Sorry," she muttered later to Nathaniel as he spurred the dragonflies on. She knew she was saying it to his chest, since she was sitting on the leaf they were riding on, clinging to him, but she was so exhausted she couldn't stand anymore.

           "For what?" he asked, keeping his voice light.

           "Being a sobbing mess out of everything tonight. Taking up so much space on this leaf. Introducing you to goblin beer." She thought a moment. "Actually, not the last one. Your face was the best face."

           He laughed. "You've nothing to be sorry for. You were so happy tonight. It's the happiest I've ever seen you, I think."

           "What, am I usually a sad person?"

           He nodded, staring straight ahead. "I don't know if you've noticed, but sometimes it looks like your Living Memory is weighing you down. If not, then your exile. Tonight was the first time I've ever seen you look like you had nothing on your shoulders."

           "You must not be paying attention to me when I'm knitting."

           "You know what I mean."

           "Well, sorry anyway."

           "For what, now?"

           "I'm so tired I can hardly think straight. I might eat you when I get home."

           He stroked her hair. "That's all right."

           When they arrived at her house, she stumbled through her door while he let the dragonflies go. She was still fumbling her way--stupid furniture!--when she felt him grab her under her arms and carry her to her bedroom. They fell into her web with a soft oopf.

           "Have I thanked you for your service, Councilor Nathaniel?"

           "You may have."

           "I shall do it properly tomorrow. Good night, Councilor."

           "Good night, Madam Ambassador."

#

10: Aftermath

             Ambassador Sylvia was dressed in red at the wedding of Crown Princess Marianne to Captain Roland of the border guard. She wore it out of spite, because spider widows wore red to signal that they had eaten a husband. (This had not been the case in three centuries, but she liked the detail.)

           She stared straight ahead, because at one point Councilor Nathaniel had whispered to her that she was glaring at the groom in such a hostile manner it might be misconstrued. They were standing in a small cluster of people who decidedly also did not like Captain Roland, and had vocalized their disapproval for the gadfly guard more than once in public. Their criticisms were varied: he was an upstart; he was from a minor house; he was frivolous; he was a bad influence on the princess; he would be a disaster of a king.

           Sylvia agreed with the last reason, although her main reason was more personal. Through careful inquiries and through watching Captain Roland's behaviour around Marianne when she and Nathaniel were present, she was thoroughly convinced that Roland was purposefully steering Marianne away from anyone who would talk some sense into her.

           She had attempted to spend the last winter in the Fairy Huddle to try to stop this disaster of a wedding from moving forward. It did not go well, since everytime she had tried to approach Marianne, she would be stymied by Roland's warbling. She overheard him bragging about becoming King by snaring the Crown Princess and it took everything to not stomp him into the ground. Nathaniel spread his own careful whispers--such a subtle man--which almost got Roland into trouble with the King, but the satisfaction didn't last long.

           It was especially hard to watch the couple interact. Watching him downplay her achievements unless it made him look good, watching him pay her backhanded compliments that reflected back onto him, listening to him declare public affection for her. And Marianne, so young, so dazzled by it all.

           And here they were. She was going to watch, as so many foremothers had, a young woman give herself to an unworthy man.

           Nathaniel had an arm around her waist, at her request because she didn't think she could stop herself from killing Roland if she had to go. But she was here nonetheless, because she wanted to support Marianne's decision--this was Marianne's decision, and she had to respect that. Foremother memory told her that trying to steer her away from it would only destroy any rapport she had built with the princess, and if this marriage had to happen, she needed all of it.

           A kiss on her ear distracted her. She frowned up at Nathaniel. "What was that for?" she hissed.

           "You looked like you could use a distraction."

           She took a deep breath. "I suppose I do at that."

           The wait seemed to take forever. The crowds started whispering.

           "Is she all right?"

           "Where is she?"

           "What could be taking so long?"

           Sylvia wondered if she should be feeling relief. Instead, something cold in her heart growled.

           Dawn flew in then, overhead the crowd and straight to her royal father, standing at the altar with Roland. She glanced around nervously and whispered something.

           "What?" King Dagda's soft gasp echoed throughout the hall.

           "Just what I said, Daddy."

           "But that's ridiculous! You can't just... cancel a wedding, on the day of!" At the collective gasp that went up in the room, he looked around, and went back to an angry whisper.

           "No!" Dawn's whisper was insistent enough to be heard. "She said the wedding's off! I don't know why!"

           King Dagda turned to Roland, as if the groom could give an accounting of his bride's sudden behaviour.

           Roland gulped, and gave his best reassuring smile. "Your Majesty, I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. Pre-wedding jitters."

           "A misunderstanding that would lead to a cancelled wedding?" Dagda, at least, sounded suitably skeptical.

           A series of images flashed through her face, then. "He has done something," Sylvia growled under her breath.

           Nathaniel gave her a sharp look, and several members in their coterie also turned.

           "Look at that face. The face of the guilty. He has done something to hurt her." She knew she wasn't being very loud, not loud enough to be heard at the front, but also that she shouldn't be saying anything.

           Unfortunately, a nearby councilor who did not share her sentiments overheard, and turned to frown at whoever was saying that. "Don't be ridiculous. Princess Marianne has always been flighty--"

           "You shut up. How dare you insult a princess of the realm." Sylvia took a step forward and felt Nathaniel's arm tighten around her waist, restraining her. The councilor had recognized the source of the voice, and was quickly paling. "How dare you insult your own princess, who is to be your sovereign. Have some respect."

           "Patience, Madam Ambassador," Councilor John murmured. "It's not like you have any proof."

           "I am Living Memory, Councilor. I know the face of guilt. I have seen it many, many times before, with enough hindsight to recognize it when it is right in front of me."

           The whispers were already roaring into an upset hubbub. King Dagda raised his arms for quiet, to little avail. "Princess Marianne is unwell. We will postpone this wedding to a later date. Thank you for coming."

           "Your Majesty, there's no need to cancel!" Roland tried to salvage the occasion. "Maybe I should just go talk to her? I'm sure it's just a minor thing! You know how Marianne gets." He turned to Dawn.

           King Dagda also turned to Dawn.

           Dawn was squinting at Roland with extreme prejudice. "She was crying really hard and doesn't want to see anyone." She didn't even bother whispering her reply.

           "I'll talk to her--"

           "She doesn't want to see anyone."

           Sylvia took a step towards the altar, but Nathaniel gripped her waist harder. "Are you going to make a scene?"

           "You heard Dawn. He made her cry. He hurt her."

           "And we all bleed with her. But are you going to make a scene, and will it help?"

           She stopped short. She did want to make a scene. It would be utterly satisfying. She ran through the possible scenarios in her head. Yell at Roland publicly, and incur King Dagda's wrath, with possible punishment. Marianne would still be hurt. Don't tell at Roland now, stew in silence, and maybe destroy something afterwards. Marianne would still be hurt.

           She settled for fuming quietly at Nathaniel. "I hate it when you're smarter than me, you know that?"

           "I'm sure you do," he said soothingly, carefully ushering her out. "Let's go get some tea and celebrate this cancellation, shall we?"

           The wedding day was a holiday for the kingdom, and it was abuzz with news of the cancelled nuptials. Nathaniel's house was closer to the castle, and by the time they got there, there was a small gathering of gossips in the parlour.

           "Sylvia!" Donna almost shrieked as soon as she sighted the couple. She practically ran over to them to drag them over. "Nathaniel! Did you know? What happened? Surely you must know, Sylvia, you were all but accusing Captain Roland in the hall!" She practically pushed Sylvia down to sit next in the most available space between the ladies' chairs.

           Sylvia shrugged. "I have no proof, as was pointed out to me earlier."

           "But you have an inkling? Do tell! What does your Living Memory suspect?" Donna shoved a cup of tea into her hands.

           She sighed, feeling theatrical. Donna and her friends weren't her favourite people, and she suspected they talked about her behind her back. But they could be useful here... "Well, she probably found some proof he didn't love her. Could have been anything, really. Found some love letters, or saw another woman's things among his, or something equally dramatic."

           This caused an outburst. "But he was always so affectionate!" "Couldn't stop singing about his love for her!" "They looked so happy together!"

           "Ladies, you and I are old enough to know that sometimes lovers are not true to you, no matter how it looks." Sylvia took a sip of tea before she continued. "Besides, I thought this one was obvious, anyway. Surely you heard him bragging about becoming King? Why does a man in love need to do that?"

           "Well, I never! What bad taste!" And the group descended into outrage.

           "And he never supported her," Nathaniel added mournfully, placing a supporting hand on Sylvia's shoulder. "What kind of King doesn't support his Queen? Especially a King marrying into the throne? Always seemed to me he had his own agenda."

           "You never trusted him, Nathaniel! Especially with your pro-goblin politics!"

           A crowd of gasps, and the whole group turned to Sylvia, wide-eyed.

           "Considering Princess Marianne's desires for diplomatic relations with the Dark Forest, a marriage to Captain Roland would have totally undermined her," Nathaniel said, sounding offended.

           No one looked like they heard him, though. Sylvia didn't move, just looked around the room, wondering if she was supposed to do something in the sudden silence that descended. Were there such awkward moments in memory? She couldn't think of anyway.

           "Uhm. I, uh, like Councilor Nathaniel's pro-goblin politics." As if to make her point, she patted his hand on her shoulder.

           Nathaniel took her hand. "Donna, we'd love to stay and chat, but we came to pick up a few things and were going to call on some of the other councilors to discuss some matters. Hope you don't mind."

           There was a rhubarb growing behind them as they left the room, but one question made them quicken their pace.

           "Have they set a wedding date?"

           A few more calls, a few well-placed words here and there with people sympathetic to the princess, respectful of Nathaniel's standing and well-aware of Sylvia's status--not just as a Living Memory, but also as occasional confidant of the princesses--and they ended their day at Sylvia's house, feeling pleased with their work.

           They avoided talk about a wedding date and spent a marvelous night sleeping soundly. Sylvia had been convinced that two-legged creatures wouldn't be able to get in and out of her hammock web easily, but Nathaniel rolled in and out of it with ease, and he was warm and soft. He was also very vocally appreciative of it, favourably comparing it to the flower beds of the fairies regularly. Their sleeping arrangements were made all the more pleasant with the realization that neither of them were morning people.

           So the knock on Sylvia's door at dawn was an unwelcome thing. For several moments, neither moved, though they were awake and knew it.

           When the knocking got more insistent, Sylvia sighed and pushed herself up. "I'll get it."

           "No, you're naked, I'll get it, who knows who's at the door."

           "You're also naked."

           "I have a robe." He used his wings to push himself off, which also had the effect of pushing her back down.

           Sylvia considered the wisdom of letting him open the door when the whole neighbourhood knew whose house it was. While they didn't advertise their relationship, and they were not necessarily secretive, but it wasn't common knowledge that Nathaniel regularly slept over either.

           "Councilor Nathaniel!" greeted a very unexpected voice. "I, uh, good morning!"

           "Uhm. Your... Highness?"

           Sylvia sat up with an oath. "Marianne?" She stumbled out of the bedroom and knocked over several pieces of furniture to get to the front door. "Marianne!"

           The Crown Princess stood there wearing a white dress tattered at her knees. Her black boots were scuffed, and her hands gripped a training sword. "Uhm. Hi."

           Her eyes... Sylvia was alarmed at the blue-black surrounding them. "Did someone hit you?" she exclaimed. "On both eyes?"

           "What? No! No, I did this. It's... it's just berry juice. I was trying something new."

           Both Sylvia and Nathaniel sighed in unison. "But what are you doing here? It's... so early! Don't tell me you want to train right now?"

           Marianne bowed her head. "Uh. Not now, I was going to wait until Councilor Nathaniel got here, because I didn't realize that he was here."

           "Is this a girl talk thing? Should I go?" Nathaniel asked.

           Sylvia plucked at the sleeve of his robe. "Yes. Get back to bed or get dressed and leave us be. Come in, Your Highness, I'll put on some tea."

#

11: Outpouring

             "You were right," Marianne said into her cup. "About Roland. About everything. I should have listened to you."

           Sylvia made a sympathetic sound. "You were in love. It happens. You can't blame yourself for what he did wrong."

           "But I should have seen it coming," the princess insisted. "And I... I knew. I knew something was wrong but I was just... so happy. He was like the sun, and I just... I got burned."

           It was still too early in the morning, so Sylvia let sympathetic silence settle in.

           Marianne burst into tears. Large tears ran down her face as her small body shook with such violence Sylvia stood up in alarm. Quickly, the goblin ran around the table to put an arm around the fairy princess. "It wasn't your fault, Marianne. It was never your fault. He chose to do whatever it is he did. He hurt you. You were in love. That's not a bad thing."

           "If it wasn't bad," Marianne yelled, her voice piercing in its pain, "then why does it hurt so much?"

           "Because... it was real for you."

           "Why wasn't it real for him? Why wasn't I enough for him? What's wrong with me?" The wails were louder now, full of anguish.

           "There's nothing wrong with you."

           "There must have been! Why didn't he love me if there wasn't something wrong with me? Why did I fall in love with someone like him?"

           "Because you, Your Highness, have an open and warm heart, which he chose to take advantage of. It has nothing to do with your wrongness."

           "Of course it does," Marianne retorted, even through her tears. "I know what they say about me, Sylvia. I'm not a good princess. I'm too loud, too rough, too demanding. I'm not soft enough, I'm not sweet, I'm not gentle, I'm nothing a fairy princess should be. And I thought... I thought I found someone who thought I was."

           "You found someone who pretended you were the fairy princess that you are not, Your Highness," Sylvia said softly. "Not someone who saw you for the fairy princess you are."

           An oath from the back of the house distracted them. Something rolled on the floor of the kitchen and someone picked it up and fiddled with it.

           "Nathaniel, aren't you supposed to be at a meeting?" Sylvia called.

           "Running late. I'll take the backdoor out. You ladies carry on."

           "There's a council meeting today? Why wasn't I told?" Marianne sat up.

           "Because you were supposed to be on your honeymoon today," Sylvia said dryly.

           "Guess that's not happening." Marianne fiercely wiped her face dry wth the back of her hands. She took a deep breath. "I'm going to it."

           "Are you sure? Shouldn't you take a break?"

           "No." Marianne frowned. "I'm going to be the fairy princess I should have been. I've wasted so much time already. Councilor Nathaniel!"

           "Your Highness?" Nathaniel stuck his head into the dining room from the kitchen.

           "Kindly escort me to the legislative council meeting."

           Nathaniel threw a slightly-panicked look at Sylvia, who nodded seriously. "Uh. Okay. I mean! Of course, Your Highness."

           Crown Princess Marianne threw herself into her work with a ferocity that made people nervous. Her supporters were pleased to see her new no-holds-barred approach, and if she got more unpopular with the elder councilmen, it didn't seem to matter, because she went toe-to-toe with them to push her new initiatives through. She hid her hurt under a mask of efficiency and wore off her angry energy through training.

           When King Dagda summoned Sylvia, she had hoped it would be about finally opening talks with the Dark Forest. Unfortunately, she had probably hoped for too much.

           "What has happened to my daughter?" he demanded as soon as the servants left them alone. "What made her into this?"

           Sylvia stared at him, astonished. "I... why would I know that?"

           "I know she went to see you after the day of the wedding. I need to know." His face was the pleading one of a broken father, desperately wanting to understand. "What could have done this to my little girl?"

           "A broken heart."

           "But that was a misunderstanding!" King Dagda burst out. "If she would just listen to Roland, let him talk to her--"

           "That would not be wise," Sylvia cut him off. "When Captain Roland is likely the source of the hurt."

           "But what did he do?" He narrowed his eyes at her. "I know you had no love for Roland. But you didn't have to poison my daughter against the man she loved to get what you wanted!"

           Sylvia blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

           "What did you do? Why is she like this now?"

           "I have done nothing. As for why she is like this now, perhaps you should be asking her."

           "She won't tell me what happened! She won't tell me what's wrong!" He sighed. "I have never been that close to her, but... I am still her father. I don't understand why she won't talk to me." He glared at her. "But she speaks to you. So I can only surmise that you know."

           "Ah." Sylvia sighed. "Actually, I don't know. She never told me."

           "Never told you..."

           "No. I never asked. If she wanted to tell, she would have said something. I only have my suspicions, but beyond that, the mind of Her Highness is beyond my ken."

           "Then tell me... with your Living Memory, what you can know of my daughter's hurt. Tell me how I can restore her to what she was."

           "You can't," she said bluntly. "She had her heart broken, and you can't make a heart un-broken again. That's not how it works. You give her time and space to heal, let her find her own way."

           "I am asking you for help!"

           "I am giving it to you."

           "Is this how you served the Bog King? With inactionable advice and evasion?"

           Sylvia rose to her full height, towering over the fairy man in his chair. He shrank back from her.

           "Guards!" he cried.

           She started walking to the door. "I'll see myself out," she said curtly.

           She swept out the room in high dudgeon, stewing her way down the corridors of the wretched castle with its high ceilings and narrow hallways specifically designed for fliers.

           "Sylvia!"

           She stopped short at Nathaniel's voice. "Councilor," she bit out as he approached, his face full of concern.

           He took her hands in his. "What happened? I was told that you were in an audience with the King."

           She winced. "It didn't go well. I walked out on him."

           "You what?"

           "He wanted me to tell him what happened to Her Highness and didn't like what I had to say."

           "Councilor Nathaniel!" a page flew to them. "His Majesty demands to see you. Now."

           "Me...?"

           They exchanged glances.

           "Now, Councilor."

           "What about?"

           "He didn't say."

           "I'm going home," Sylvia said softly. "I'll see you later."

           Later did not happen. Ambassador Sylvia was under house arrest for conspiring against the Crown. People could come to see her, but were discouraged from doing so under threat of being accused of the same. No one could tell her what happened to Councilor Nathaniel. She was left to wring her hands as she paced her ceiling.

           A shy knock from the back of the house caught her attention. She thought it was the back door, but it was the small delivery door instead in the corner of the kitchen. Made specifically for the elves who couldn't reach the door knobs of her main doors, it wasn't always locked, but she hadn't been expecting anything.

           She opened it. "Master Sunny! What are you doing here? The perimeter is guarded!"

           "Here to deliver some food and goods!" Sunny said with bright cheer. He held bags in his arms. "Princess Marianne insisted I come check and make sure you're okay. She would have come herself, but she couldn't get away from her schedule."

           "Have you heard from Nathaniel?"

           "Apparently also under house arrest." Sunny looked around, and then whispered, "Dawn says she spied on his meeting with her Dad. Said he wouldn't agree to testify against you."

           "So there is to be a trial, then?"

           "Don't know. Might not come to that. Marianne is arguing against it."

           Sylvia shook her head. "There's only so much she can do."

           "Keep your spirits up, Madam Sylvia! Like I always say, don't worry about a thing!"

           She patted his head. "You're sweet. Best be on your way now."

           There were letters. She sorted them into separate piles: official business from people who hadn't yet realized anything was wrong; letters of accusation, often unsigned; letters of support, sometimes also unsigned; personal correspondence with no political content whatsoever.

           A fortnight passed with few visitors, no real news, until the sound of dragonflies buzzing over attracted her attention. There were too many for a company call, and elves didn't tend to travel in packs like that. She ran to a window to see a small army in the sky.

           Ugh, no, an international incident. Where were they going? The palace? Ugh, of course... not like the goblins knew where she lived. And was that...? Her heart sank at the figure in the center of the formation.

           She banged on her front door. "Send for Princess Marianne immediately!" she yelled. "The Bog King approaches!"

           She saw him several hours later, after she was humiliatingly dragged to the castle by two fairy soldiers who picked her up by the upper arms and flew her overhead without a care for her person. As she was shoved into the throne room, she saw King Dagda, and the tall dark person of her cousin.

           "What is the meaning of this?" Bog growled, and she wasn't sure at who.

           She wrenched her arms free of the fairy soldiers' grips.

           To his credit, the Bog King swung to King Dagda, fury in his face.

           "Bog King," King Dagda began, "she is a prisoner of the Fairy Kingdom--"

           "I know what you've told me. And I have told you, the Dark Forest is responsible for its own." Bog stamped his way to her, leveling a glare at the soldiers. They backed off. "Are you all right?" he asked.

           "No," she snapped, because she had expected a better reunion than this. "No, I am not all right." She could feel her voice going higher, and she didn't care. "Five years. Five years I've been in this miserable field working myself to the bone to cultivate trade relations, being met with resistance at every juncture. Five years of insults, gossip, criticism from every corner, and complete silence from my king and only family, five years! Five years, and now I'm under house arrest, accused of a crime on the basis of rumours, against a sovereign to whom I have done my utmost to appease, I have no news about the man I love, and my own king and cousin is asking me if I'm all right! No! No, I am not all right!" She was full-on yelling straight into the Bog King's face, raising herself to her full height so she could go nose-to-nose with him, and practically spitting at him as she stabbed a finger at his chest. "You banished me! For a thing I did not do, may I add! And I am now under house arrest! Also for a thing I did not do! How dare you treat a widow of foremother memory this year!" She swung to King Dagda. "And you! How dare you disrespect Living Memory like this! I have done nothing against the Crown, and maybe you should be a better father to your child rather than throwing accusations at foreign dignitaries!"

           Princess Marianne and Princess Dawn chose that moment to barge into the throne room. "Dad!" "What's going on!"

           Dawn gasped. "Madam Sylvia! Are you all right?"

           Marianne, however, stomped her way to her father, hands on her hips. "What in all the fields is this!"

           "The Bog King is here to retrieve the ambassador," King Dagda said evasively.

           "What?" Marianne spun around, finally noticing the dark monarch in the room. "But--Sylvia didn't do anything wrong!"

           "I'll be taking her home regardless," Bog rumbled. "Given the hostile environment."

           Marianne paused. "You're the Bog King, aren't you? Sylvia has done great work in the time she's been here! She can't leave now!" She swung around to her father. "Especially not on conspiracy charges! She's done nothing!"  

           "I have it on good authority that Sylvia has been undermining crown authority among the ranks of the noble houses," King Dagda said, face reddening. "She's dangerous, and I won't have a goblin bring down this kingdom."

           The Bog King snarled as he took a step forward. "Are you accusing my cousin of being a liar?"

           "Whose authority?" Marianne demanded.

           King Dagda seemed to shift uncomfortable under Marianne's gaze. "Darling, it's for your own good."

           "Who?" Marianne's voice was hard, grating, dark.

           "Captain Roland has uncovered a conspiracy among the councilors. He is rounding up guilty parties as we speak."

           "Captain Roland," Marianne said in a low voice, practically a growl that mimicked the Bog King's, "is a liar. You can't trust him."

           "What am I to think, Marianne?" King Dagda asked, pained. "This goblin comes to our kingdom, and suddenly you're being difficult and you change and you end your engagement without reason. How can I believe that she hasn't done anything?"

           "I had a reason!" she yelled. "You didn't need to bring anybody else into this! You didn't need to arrest anybody! If there was a conspiracy, that would be Roland's fault!" She drew back a little, hands at her mouth trembling and tears at her eyes. Then she visibly steeled herself. "He never loved me. He was just using me."

           King Dagda sat forward on this throne. "Marianne...?"

           "If you send Sylvia away now, because of something Roland said... I'll leave too."

           "Marianne!" Dawn gasped, flitting to her sister's side.

           "I don't understand," King Dagda gasped.

           "You said it yourself. I'm difficult. I'm different. I'm unique." Marianne put her hands on her hips. "I'm not the perfect fairy princess you want me to be, and you'll round up my friends and supporters on the say-so of the cheating, chattering, power-hungry, pig-headed son of a--"

           "Is this family drama usual here?" Bog asked Sylvia.

           "You're one to talk," Sylvia snarled at him. "Is this the case then?" she asked King Dagda sharply. "You're allowing a soldier to arrest whoever he thinks is a conspirator... because you trust him over your own flesh and blood?"

           "No! I am trying to protect my family!"

           "How is it protecting us when you won't even listen to us, Daddy?" Dawn pointed out. "We've been trying to tell you that Sylvia's innocent for days now."

           "EVERYBODY BE QUIET!"

           Everyone gaped in the wake of the Bog King's roar.

           "I don't know what is going on here. But your house is not in order, King Dagda," Bog rumbled. He turned to the princesses. "It would seem that you have a crisis of authority on your hands. I remember when my own father went mad, as kings must eventually do. That is when the heir must step up, to prove themselves worthy of the throne and unwilling to be pushed around."

           "That's not how it's done here, but your, ah, solidarity is appreciated," Marianne said wryly. She straightened. "You're right, though. There is clearly a cadre of conspirators trying to undermine my authority before I even take the throne, and it's time for me to deal with it. Dad?"

           "Yes, dear?" Dagda asked, sounding weaker than before.

           "Do you trust me? Your own heir? To make decisions that best benefit the kingdom?"

           King Dagda hesitated, clearly dreading her next actions. "Yes," he finally said. "I do."

           "Then I call for Captain Roland to immediately stop his search for so-called conspirators. I order that all current conspirators under arrest be released."

           "Oh thank goodness," Sylvia sighed, rolling her eyes.

           In short order, Crown Princess Marianne took over, not quite named Regent but close enough, with King Dagda pleading illness. Ambassador Sylvia was released. The Bog King agreed to stand down and take his army back to the Dark Forest. Together they were escorted back to Sylvia's house, and the goblin army buzzed around them, resting on the field by the brook.

           "We have to return home, and in case civil war breaks out, I don't want you here," Bog told her as soon as they were inside.

           Sylvia paused for a moment, then went back to boiling water for tea.

           "I know this isn't the best time to recall you... you clearly have affection for the two princesses, but after all that happened, I don't feel safe with you staying."

           "You felt perfectly safe with me being here before, back when I was practically the only goblin the entire Fairy Court had encountered in a hundred years."

           Bog cricked his neck. She hoped guilt was giving him a neckache. "I know. But things change."

           "That, they do, because some of us fight for it."

           "And I see the results. You've done fine work. Consider your return your reward."

           Sylvia smashed a cup on the floor. She swung to Bog, eyes narrowed as she prowled towards him. "Is that it? Five years, and I just--pick up my life and go home with you as if nothing happened? How dare you. How dare you! Damn you, where have you been?"

           "Are you done?"

           "No." And she slapped him.

           He staggered back from the force, and touched the corner of his mouth. "I should--"

           "What, punish me? You did that, for five years! You sent me away from home! And I have done just fine without you. Where will you exile me to next, Bog King?"

           To his credit, his eyes softened. He sighed deeply, and took her trembling hands in his. "I did wrong, cousin, and I am sorry. I ignored your counsel, and rather than face up to what you had to say, I sent you away so I wouldn't have to listen. I sent you to a place I knew to be hostile to our kind for a task I myself deemed impossible. I had no excuse, and perhaps there'll be nothing to earn your forgiveness, but know that I am sorry. I am so, so sorry."

           "Free the Sugar Plum Fairy."

           "Of course."

           "Permit trade delegations and royal visitations."

           "Most assuredly."

           "Open the borders."

           "Well, we have to negotiate that, what with deciding--" He stopped when he saw her glaring at him. "Certainly."

           "Overturn your ban on love. Let me have mine."

           He opened his mouth, or maybe he dropped his jaw, she didn't know and didn't care. "Shouldn't that depend on my meeting him?"

           "I'm not asking for your permission," she told him sourly.  

           He still grimaced.

           "Just because you've sworn off love, Bog King, doesn't mean the rest of the world has. Life moves on. I don't actually need your blessing, just as you don't need my forgiveness. Suck on that, if you will."

           A loud growling chorus outside drew their attention. Sylvia looked out the window to find the goblins surrounding the house snarling at the sky. She went outside, to see a fairy hovering above, taking in the scene. He didn't look too perturbed, more like scanning the area for something. She would recognize those mottled brown and grey wings anywhere.

           As soon as he saw her, he flew down, alighting in her arms, gathering her in his. He rubbed his thumb between her shoulder blades, breathing in the scent of her hair, and she nuzzled the crook of his neck. For a moment, everything else faded away in a rush of relief.

           "You're all right," she whispered. "What happened?"

           "House arrest. Just like you. I'm fine. I suppose they released you as soon as they saw the goblin army approaching."

           She huffed. "Not before my cousin got into a shouting match with the king. Princess Marianne is in charge now."

           "Yes. It's going to be a few... very exciting days, if not weeks."

           "I shall be sad to miss it."

           He drew away from her. "What?"

           "I have been recalled." Her voice was soft, and her fingers idly played with his collar.

           He touched his forehead to hers. "You've been wanting it for a long time."

           "Not like this though. What will I do without you?"

           "You will carry on, as you always have."

           She ran her hands over his face, memorizing its feel under her fingertips, on her palm, his breath on her skin.

           "Surely foremother memory has given you that fortitude."

           "Foremother memory doesn't define who I am or what I feel. I'm not my foremothers. This... this pain will be mine, because every such pain is unique, never felt before."

           He captured her hand as it ran down his cheek, kissing it and keeping it there. "I will come visit as soon as I can, then."

           "Even if you might get eaten?"

           He shrugged. "You've tried before, and I like to think I survived that." He smiled. "Otherwise the last four years have been a good dream. It is not so hard an afterlife, falling in love with you."

           "Such a flirt, Councilor," she retorted, but there was no bite.

           "Madam Ambassador, you are the one with irresistable charms."

           The Bog King snorted, and Sylvia turned to see him leaning on the doorjamb, arms and ankles crossed. He gestured to Nathaniel with his chin. "Is that the one?"

           She stuck her tongue out at him. "Mind your business, cousin." And she went back to holding Nathaniel close, until it was untenable to ignore the crowd of curious goblins around them, and a joining crowd of equally curious elves in the further distance.

           Fall passed. Sylvia spent a lot of it visiting friends and family. Many of her kind were solitary creatures in pockets of the Dark Forest, so not seeing each other for long periods of time was normal, but they had all heard of the unusual circumstances of her exile, and were unbearably curious as a result.

           Winter came and went. Sylvia spent a lot of it brooding.

           As soon as spring arrived, warm enough to leave the castle and her coccoons, she took to the highest tree and wove a web to sit in and wait for a pair of brown-grey wings.

           He found her as though he caught her scent through the forest, grasping her tightly in his arms and swinging her around mid-air as she laughed, and then they breathlessly fell into her web, making wordless promises to each other.

*

12: A Wedding Party

           It was a rapidly-changing fairy government that Sylvia returned to, not as ambassador, but as part of a royal visit. The fairy princesses had visited her a fair number of times over the year, and Sylvia had to keep Griselda busy to keep the queen mother out of the negotiation room where Princess Marianne and the Bog King conferred at length over terms and provisions.

           It would not do for them to be intruded upon. Although once in a while Dawn would whisper that yes, the two had gone out to stretch their wings, and it was safe to not distract Griselda anymore. Sylvia pressed a finger to her lips if anyone seemed to want to comment on how the Bog King gazed overlong at Crown Princess Marianne, or remark on the smile that played at Crown Princess Marianne's lips sometimes as the Bog King made conversation that might have been utterly boring otherwise.

           Her house in the Fairy Kingdom was kept neat and tidy by Nathaniel in her absence. They announced their engagement at a quiet dinner held at her house, which pleased everyone in attendance (and upset some others because they had not been in attendance for the momentous occasion). The wedding itself they held at the border market on a calm midsummer evening.

           They dispensed with the usual officiant and elder, calmly reciting promises to each other in front of an audience. But the Bog King surprised them when he approached, tokens in his hands.

           "I bring you blessings," he said softly, only for them to hear. "I bring you the benediction of the Northern Spiders, and I bring you the benediction of the Southern Scorpions. I bring you the benediction of the Swarm." He let each token fall at their feet as he recited the names of the clans and goblin families that delivered their private blessings through the King. "And I gift you my blessing, blood kin, recognition of the royal line, and promises of loyalty to yours."

           She hadn't quite forgiven him just yet, but she gave him a small nod in acknowledgement, and leaned forward a little for the kiss he laid on her forehead.

           Their first dance was with each other. Bog claimed the second dance with Sylvia, to the oohs-and-aahs of several goblins. Dawn took to the floor with her best friend, Sunny.

           "Who would have thought that the almighty Bog King could dance so well?" Marianne laughed at the edge of the dance floor to Nathaniel.

           "Surely Your Highness must realized by now not to underestimate him." Nathaniel grinned. "May I have the honour? Since my bride seems to be occupied at the moment."

           Marianne gladly took his hand, and they chatted about a council motion as they swirled about the dance floor, until they almost bumped into Sylvia and Bog.

           "I'd like to dance with my new husband again," Sylvia declared loudly as soon as she was within earshot of Nathaniel. "Swap partners?"

           Griselda cackled--loudly--and almost ruined the moment as the Bog King shyly took Princess Marianne's hands. The nervous tension in his body bled out within a few moments, though, as they kept on dancing and conversing as if they did such a thing every day. If they seemed to dance much closer than was perhaps appropriate, no one said a thing.

           "Think they'll have a happy ending, too?" Nathaniel asked softly.

           Sylvia kissed his clever mouth. "Oh, love, there are no happy endings, just happy transformations."

#fanfic? #strange magic #maybe #idk anymore #fun though

[networkingdefinition]

Blackberries Quotes

Official Website: Blackberries Quotes

` • A top McCain policy adviser claimed this week that McCain’s work in the Senate helped create the BlackBerry, saying, ‘You’re looking at the miracle that John McCain helped create.’ He then handed the BlackBerry to McCain, who attempted to withdraw $20 from it. – Amy Poehler • After the last shovel of dirt was patted in place, I sat down and let my mind drift back through the years. I thought of the old K. C. Baking Powder can, and the first time I saw my pups in the box at the depot. I thought of the fifty dollars, the nickels and dimes, and the fishermen and blackberry patches. I looked at his grave and, with tears in my eyes, I voiced these words: “You were worth it, old friend, and a thousand times over. – Wilson Rawls • All of the people who are using their BlackBerries or their iPhones, Facebook, all of the people who are sitting in cafes and hotels rooms doing their work, they’re all using wireless technology, and we shouldn’t assume that the only way of the future is high speed cable. – Tony Abbott • All the consumer market mojo is with Apple and to a lesser extent BlackBerry. And yet, the real market momentum with operators and the real market momentum with device manufacturers seems to primarily be with Windows Mobile and Android. – Steve Ballmer • and once at Hana’s house, when we stole some blackberry liqueur from her parents’ liquor cabinet and drank until the ceiling started spinning overhead. Hana was laughing and giggling, but I didn’t like it, didn’t like the sweet sick taste in my mouth or the way my thoughts seemed to break apart like a mist in the sun. – Lauren Oliver • At work people are expected to be at the beck and call of employers all the time. You have blackberries and other things, and they just don’t leave you alone. People have less time just to drop into an art gallery. – Jeremy Paxman • Attention is the most powerful tool of the human spirit. We can enhance or augment our attention with practices like meditation and exercise, diffuse it with technologies like email and Blackberries, or alter it with pharmaceuticals. In the end, though, we are fully responsible for how we choose to use this extraordinary tool. – Linda Stone

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Blackberr', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_blackberr').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_blackberr img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Beyond all our Blackberries and iPhones, we’re dangerously separated from our food and water supplies. – Eric Kripke • Blackberry Smoke is a band that will never go hungry. – Brian Johnson • Blackberry Smoke is my favorite band! – Jamey Johnson • Blackberry Smoke is the real deal! – Dierks Bentley • Blackberry winter, the time when the hoarforst lies on the blackberry blossoms; without this frost the berries will not set. It is the forerunner of a rich harvest. – Margaret Mead • BLACKBERRY. Also know as “Crackberry” for it’s addictive qualities. It is the modern girl’s weapon. It allow her to bid on ebay while walking down the street, map out her shopping route for maximum productivity, and sneak out of work and still get her messages as she peruses the sales racks. – Nina Garcia • Blue is a tranquilizer, imparting coolness to your system. Blue slows down your system so it can heal and mend. Positive qualities of blue are willpower, aspiration, and reliability. Foods of the blue vibration are: grapes, blackberries, blue plums, blueberries, and any other blue fruits or vegetables. – Tae Yun Kim • Blueberries, strawberries and blackberries are true super foods. Naturally sweet and juicy, berries are low in sugar and high in nutrients – they are among the best foods you can eat. – Joel Fuhrman • Brambles, in particular, protect and nourish young fruit trees, and on farms bramble clumps (blackberry or one of its related cultivars) can be used to exclude deer and cattle from newly set trees. As the trees (apple, quince, plum, citrus, fig) age, and the brambles are shaded out, hoofed animals come to eat fallen fruit, and the mature trees (7 plus years old) are sufficiently hardy to withstand browsing. Our forest ancestors may well have followed some such sequences for orchard evolution, assisted by indigenous birds and mammals. – Bill Mollison • But time in only another liar, so go along the wall a little further: if blackberries prove bitter there’ll be mushrooms, fairy-ring mushrooms in the grass, sweetest of all fungi. – William Carlos Williams • Come, my child,” I said, trying to lead her away. “Wish good-bye to the poor hare, and come and look for blackberries.” “Good-bye, poor hare!” Sylvie obediently repeated, looking over her shoulder at it as we turned away. And then, all in a moment, her self-command gave way. Pulling her hand out of mine, she ran back to where the dead hare was lying, and flung herself down at its side in such an agony of grief as I could hardly have believed possible in so young a child. “Oh, my darling, my darling!” she moaned, over and over again. “And God meant your life to be so beautiful! – Lewis Carroll • Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees takes off his shoes. – Elizabeth Barrett Browning

• For me, nature is something you watch on the Discovery Channel, or on the evening news — as you learn how much more of it’s been savaged to make way for the Blackberry realm that is my home – Tahir Shah • Hey, Barack Obama had to give up his Blackberry. He’s the first wired president. … He might have to give his Blackberry because of security reasons. Because they’re easy to hack into. In fact, when Obama heard he might have to give it up, he said, ‘OMG! WTF?’ I mean, he couldn’t believe it. – Jay Leno • How much are we willing to lose from our already short lives by losing ourselves in our Blackberries, our iPhones, by not paying attention to the human being across from us who is talking with us, by being so lazy that we’re not willing to process deeply? – Joshua Foer • I always loved writing, but I feel like I really started writing when I got my BlackBerry . It was the first time I could take these crazy thoughts in my head and actually get them out. This little device became my journal on the road. – Duff McKagan • I am impressed with the innovation in the wireless marketplace. The Blackberry, the iPhone, the Pre, and other smart devices are breakthrough technologies that have helped revolutionize the wireless space. – Julius Genachowski • I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journeywork of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree toad is a chef-d’oeurve for the highest, And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven, And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery, And the cow crunching with depress’d head surpasses any statue, And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels! – Walt Whitman • I don’t do Twitter, Facebook; none of that. My email I do from my Blackberry or my iPhone. – Penelope Cruz • I don’t have a BlackBerry or whatever you call it. And there is something to be said for being isolated and out of phone range, because you can fall into a habit to such a degree that you don’t even realise that you’ve lost something: silence. – Viggo Mortensen • I don’t have an alarm clock. If someone needs to wake me up, then I have my BlackBerry next to me. – Mark Zuckerberg • I don’t like sitting still at a desk and often conduct business on my Blackberry or in walking meetings. – Dylan Lauren • I don’t text, I don’t have a Blackberry. Literally, I just have a cell phone that I haven’t programmed and the whole Bluetooth. No. I don’t even have an earpiece for my cell phone. – Steve Carell • I hate the iPhone. I love the BlackBerry – BlackBerry wins in my opinion. The iPhone is a toy. – Brett Ratner • I have a Blackberry which I use, but I am one of those people who can only type on it with one hand. – Dev Patel • I have a little bit of an addiction to work. So I’m always hiding in the bathroom with my Blackberry to work when I’m on holiday. – Penelope Cruz • I like to talk to people. I’ve got one assistant, one Blackberry. That’s my overhead. I don’t text that much or email. I like to sit down face-to-face and have a conversation with you. I’m old-fashioned. – Mark Wahlberg • I love to go out in late September among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries to eat blackberries for breakfast, the stalks very prickly, a penalty they earn for knowing the black art of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries fall almost unbidden to my tongue, as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words like strengths or squinched, many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps, which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well in the silent, startled, icy, black language of blackberry – eating in late September. – Galway Kinnell • I play Texas Hold’em on my Blackberry. I have amassed a fortune on that. I have almost 30 million dollars from playing. It is unreal. – Chris Cornell • I started writing an album on flights to Africa and Brazil, but it was crazy because I left the notebook on the plane. It had seven or eight songs in it. After that, I’m not writing any more songs on notebooks – and I keep my Blackberry close! – Estelle • I talk about stuff like my Blackberry, Lost, the internet, music, etc. so I guess that leads to the “nerd” moniker. But I don’t get it that much to be honest. I guess its better than being labeled a “racist” comedian. – Aziz Ansari • I think healthy competition is good for business, and really at the end best for end-users. Just think about what Android would have been if it was not for iPhone – a better blackberry? – Jack Levin • I think if you asked people “what’s the biggest problem in your life?” They’d say, “I just don’t have time for anything!” And at our fingertips, if it isn’t e-mail, it’s our Blackberry, and it’s our iPods and telephones – we never stop. We never take those moments to stop the stimulus to find out “what’s going on in there? What’s really happening?” And then things start to build up. And then we are almost afraid to slow down. – Elizabeth Lesser • I think the discipline comes with turning that cellphone and Blackberry off and unplugging completely. You do that and you go through some withdrawals in the beginning. You start thinking, ‘Oh, do I need to do this? Do I need to do that?’ You forget that we were doing just fine with the payphone. – Matthew McConaughey • I use technology for communication, but I don’t have a Blackberry or an iPhone. I use an outdated cell phone, but I’m fine with it. – Nicolas Cage • I used to make fun of my friends who had BlackBerries. And I know that the expression CrackBerry has been going around, but now I fully understand it. I’m actually addicted to a piece of machinery, and that’s really embarrassing – John Krasinski • I want to reach a new generation. That’s why I am Twittering now. I have a BlackBerry, an iPhone and a Mac. – Buzz Aldrin • I was thinking how strange it is that water is one of the best, simplest things on this planet, and still with a simple glass of water you can neutralize so many of the greatest technological advances that we provide. Like with my blackberry, I can get in touch with so many people, but if I dip it in a small glass of water I’m completely disconnected. – Demetri Martin • I wish I could [keep a journal]. I have a lot of journals with one page half written in. I sometimes will write myself a quick email on my Blackberry when I think of something. – Louis C. K. • I would give you my soul in a blackberry pie; and a knife to cut it with. – Dorothy Dunnett • I write everything down. I e-mail the second I think of something, or I write notes in my BlackBerry calendar. I set up reminder alerts on my phone. And I have a notebook by my bedside so I can write down any last-minute ideas. – Giada De Laurentiis • If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion. – William Shakespeare • I’m not suggesting that the entire nation can’t be successful, but there’s something to it when you have 150 cable channels and the Internet at your fingertips and video games and all kinds of ADD-addled devices like my iPhone and your BlackBerry and things that keep us busy. – Jim Courier • I’m not terribly technological. I’m awfully backward about iPads and BlackBerries and suchlike; I still have a great fondness for Teletext, and I clung onto my fax machine for as long as I could, but eventually you have to move with the times. – David Tang • In America, Blackberry Farm in Tennessee is one of the most amazing hotels I’ve had the privilege of staying at. – Gail Simmons • In terms of the technology I use the most, it’s probably a tie between my Blackberry and my MacBook Pro laptop. That’s how I communicate with the rest of the world and how I handle all the business I have to handle. – John Legend • Indigo has a purifying, stabilizing, cleansing effect when fear, repression, and obsessions have disturbed your mental body. Indigo food vibrations are: blackberries, blue plums, blueberries, purple brocoli, beetroot, and purple grapes. – Tae Yun Kim • It is incumbent upon us all to raise the bar, whether you are a multibillion-dollar international corporation or a mom-and-pop selling blackberry jam. – Howard Schmidt • It is painful to watch children trying to show off for parents who are engrossed in their cell phones. Children are nostalgic for the ‘good old days’ when parents used to read to them without the cell phone by their side or watch football games or Disney movies without having the BlackBerry handy. – Sherry Turkle • It took 10 years to go from building the initial Smartphone to reaching the mass market. BlackBerry came out in 2003 and it didn’t get to about a billion units until 2013. So I can’t imagine it would be much faster for VR. – Mark Zuckerberg • I’ve been thinking of trying my hand at rap. I’ve been recording snippets on my BlackBerry. – Rufus Wainwright • I’ve just been away for a week, and I dropped my BlackBerry in the sea while I was messing around with the kids, so no one can reach me. Blissful. I heartily recommend it. – Nick Clegg • I’ve really hung in there with my BlackBerry. The main reason I like it better than an iPhone is that I can type better. I saw Rachel Zoe using a white one and I was jealous. The risk, of course, is that it could look like a Lady BIC. I’ve just learned to own it though. – Andy Cohen • I’ve tried plenty of telephones. I tried to get into the Samsung Galaxy and the Blackberry, but the iPhone is just too easy to use. The camera takes clear pictures and the phone itself looks great. Like all Apple products, it kind of just makes sense. – Avicii • Life was just a tire swing. ‘Jambalaya’ was the only song I could sing. Blackberry pickin’, eatin’ fried chicken, And I never knew a thing about pain. Life was just a tire swing. – Jimmy Buffett • Mindfulness means being aware of how you’re deploying your attention and making decisions about it, and not letting the tweet or the buzzing of your BlackBerry call your attention. – Howard Rheingold • O, blackberry tart, with berries as big as your thumb, purple and black, and thick with juice, and a crust to endear them that will go to cream in your mouth, and both passing down with such a taste that will make you close your eyes and wish you might live forever in the wideness of that rich moment. – Richard Llewellyn • Oh, no-” They weren’t even on the runway, and Jonah’s father was already immersed in his BlackBerry. “Remember those ‘Live Large with the Wiz Generation’ posters? Well, guess how that translates into Chinese- ‘Jonah Wizard Makes Your Ancestors Fat’. – Gordon Korman • Once off the bush The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour. I always felt like crying. It wasn’t fair That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot. Each year I hoped they’d keep, knew they would not. -Blackberry picking – Seamus Heaney • One of the misconceptions about BlackBerry is that it’s your parents’ smartphone. – Thorsten Heins • Purple as tulips in May, mauve into lush velvet, purple as the stain blackberries leave on the lips, on the hands, the purple of ripe grapes sunlit and warm as flesh. – Marge Piercy • Such tenderness, those afternoons and evenings, saying blackberry, blackberry, blackberry. – Robert Hass • Teenagers talk about the idea of having each other’s ‘full attention.’ They grew up in a culture of distraction. They remember their parents were on cell phones when they were pushed on swings as toddlers. Now, their parents text at the dinner table and don’t look up from their BlackBerry when they come for end-of-school day pickup. – Sherry Turkle • The Blackberry is really essential for keeping up on my emails when I’m out of the office, which is a lot. – David Neeleman • The Harvard Business Review recently had an article called ‘The Human Moment,’ about how to make real contact with a person at work: … The fundamental thing you have to do is turn off your BlackBerry, close your laptop, end your daydream and pay full attention to the person. – Daniel Goleman • The problem with our Blackberry society is that hardly anyone has time anymore to have an unhurried discussion about the long-term developments that will change our lives. – Paul Achleitner • The way we measure productivity is flawed. People checking their BlackBerry over dinner is not the measure of productivity. – Tim Ferriss • There are a couple of different types of food I eat a lot. I was raised in the South, in Tennessee, so I’m going to go with comfort food, soul food. I would probably start with collard greens and candied baby carrots and then have some biscuits and white gravy – and for dessert, probably blackberry cobbler. – Megan Fox • There is a newly coined word in the English language for the moment when the person we’re with whips out their BlackBerry or answers that cell phone, and all of a sudden we don’t exist. The word is ‘pizzled’: it’s a combination of puzzled and pissed off. – Daniel Goleman • There may be 300,000 apps for the iPhone and iPad, but the only app you really need is the browser. You don’t need an app for the web … You don’t need to go through some kind of SDK … You can use your web tools … And you can publish your apps to the BlackBerry without writing any native code. • There’s something really terrible about having your BlackBerry next to your bed or having your laptop in the living room when you’re talking to someone. The biggest source of stress in my life is the screen, the blogging. – Jessica Valenti • To me, ‘Blackberry Way’ stands up as a song that could be sung in any era, really. We do it with the new doing all sort of fanfare things in it and it works really well. It goes down great with audiences. – Roy Wood • Today, all our wives and husbands have Blackberries or iPhones or Android devices or whatever-the progeny of those original 950 and 957 models that put data in our pockets. Now we all check their email (or Twitter, or Facebook, or Instagram, or) compulsively at the dinner table, or the traffic light. Now we all stow our devices on the nightstand before bed, and check them first thing in the morning. We all do. It’s not abnormal, and it’s not just for business. It’s just what people do. Like smoking in 1965, it’s just life. – Ian Bogost • We would load up the yellow Cutlass Supreme station wagon and pick blackberries during blackberry season or spring onions during spring onion season. For us, food was part of the fabric of our day. – Mario Batali • What is so seductive about texting, about keeping that phone on, about that little red light on the BlackBerry, is you want to know who wants you. – Sherry Turkle • When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the brambles nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching my ripped arms, thinking of nothing, cramming the black honey of summer into my mouth; all day my body accepts what it is. In the dark creeks that run by there is this thick paw of my life darting among the black bells, the leaves; there is this happy tongue. – Mary Oliver • When you have the baby, there is no BlackBerry, no computer; you just have the baby on your stomach, and your heart is beating the same time as the baby’s. It’s very nice. – Carine Roitfeld • When you’re travelling, your day is jam-packed. I just don’t have time to whip out a PC all the time. But I can whip out a BlackBerry and tweet. I keep a constant diary of where I’m at and why I’m there. – Kevin O’Leary • Writing is more than just the making of a series of comprehensible statements: it is the gathering in of connotations; the harvesting of them, like blackberries in a good season, ripe and heavy, snatched from among the thorns of logic. – Fay Weldon • You know, you just know, that after the president goes out there and announces he wants to make community college free for all Americans – as though anything government does is ‘free’ – or is unilaterally and unconstitutionally legalizing millions of undocumented immigrants, he comes back to the offices, pulls out the presidential BlackBerry, and gleefully follows along as the Right goes completely ape over these wild policy decisions. – John Podhoretz • You’ve seen [Doanld Trump] come out with a lot more specifics. He’s not in hiding or smashing BlackBerry or BleachBit himself to death like we’ve seen Hillary do or Hillary [Clinton] throwing her stuff, you know, under the bus. She’s not showing presidential leadership qualities. – Kimberly Guilfoyle

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Blackberries Quotes

Official Website: Blackberries Quotes

` • A top McCain policy adviser claimed this week that McCain’s work in the Senate helped create the BlackBerry, saying, ‘You’re looking at the miracle that John McCain helped create.’ He then handed the BlackBerry to McCain, who attempted to withdraw $20 from it. – Amy Poehler • After the last shovel of dirt was patted in place, I sat down and let my mind drift back through the years. I thought of the old K. C. Baking Powder can, and the first time I saw my pups in the box at the depot. I thought of the fifty dollars, the nickels and dimes, and the fishermen and blackberry patches. I looked at his grave and, with tears in my eyes, I voiced these words: “You were worth it, old friend, and a thousand times over. – Wilson Rawls • All of the people who are using their BlackBerries or their iPhones, Facebook, all of the people who are sitting in cafes and hotels rooms doing their work, they’re all using wireless technology, and we shouldn’t assume that the only way of the future is high speed cable. – Tony Abbott • All the consumer market mojo is with Apple and to a lesser extent BlackBerry. And yet, the real market momentum with operators and the real market momentum with device manufacturers seems to primarily be with Windows Mobile and Android. – Steve Ballmer • and once at Hana’s house, when we stole some blackberry liqueur from her parents’ liquor cabinet and drank until the ceiling started spinning overhead. Hana was laughing and giggling, but I didn’t like it, didn’t like the sweet sick taste in my mouth or the way my thoughts seemed to break apart like a mist in the sun. – Lauren Oliver • At work people are expected to be at the beck and call of employers all the time. You have blackberries and other things, and they just don’t leave you alone. People have less time just to drop into an art gallery. – Jeremy Paxman • Attention is the most powerful tool of the human spirit. We can enhance or augment our attention with practices like meditation and exercise, diffuse it with technologies like email and Blackberries, or alter it with pharmaceuticals. In the end, though, we are fully responsible for how we choose to use this extraordinary tool. – Linda Stone

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Blackberr', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_blackberr').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_blackberr img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Beyond all our Blackberries and iPhones, we’re dangerously separated from our food and water supplies. – Eric Kripke • Blackberry Smoke is a band that will never go hungry. – Brian Johnson • Blackberry Smoke is my favorite band! – Jamey Johnson • Blackberry Smoke is the real deal! – Dierks Bentley • Blackberry winter, the time when the hoarforst lies on the blackberry blossoms; without this frost the berries will not set. It is the forerunner of a rich harvest. – Margaret Mead • BLACKBERRY. Also know as “Crackberry” for it’s addictive qualities. It is the modern girl’s weapon. It allow her to bid on ebay while walking down the street, map out her shopping route for maximum productivity, and sneak out of work and still get her messages as she peruses the sales racks. – Nina Garcia • Blue is a tranquilizer, imparting coolness to your system. Blue slows down your system so it can heal and mend. Positive qualities of blue are willpower, aspiration, and reliability. Foods of the blue vibration are: grapes, blackberries, blue plums, blueberries, and any other blue fruits or vegetables. – Tae Yun Kim • Blueberries, strawberries and blackberries are true super foods. Naturally sweet and juicy, berries are low in sugar and high in nutrients – they are among the best foods you can eat. – Joel Fuhrman • Brambles, in particular, protect and nourish young fruit trees, and on farms bramble clumps (blackberry or one of its related cultivars) can be used to exclude deer and cattle from newly set trees. As the trees (apple, quince, plum, citrus, fig) age, and the brambles are shaded out, hoofed animals come to eat fallen fruit, and the mature trees (7 plus years old) are sufficiently hardy to withstand browsing. Our forest ancestors may well have followed some such sequences for orchard evolution, assisted by indigenous birds and mammals. – Bill Mollison • But time in only another liar, so go along the wall a little further: if blackberries prove bitter there’ll be mushrooms, fairy-ring mushrooms in the grass, sweetest of all fungi. – William Carlos Williams • Come, my child,” I said, trying to lead her away. “Wish good-bye to the poor hare, and come and look for blackberries.” “Good-bye, poor hare!” Sylvie obediently repeated, looking over her shoulder at it as we turned away. And then, all in a moment, her self-command gave way. Pulling her hand out of mine, she ran back to where the dead hare was lying, and flung herself down at its side in such an agony of grief as I could hardly have believed possible in so young a child. “Oh, my darling, my darling!” she moaned, over and over again. “And God meant your life to be so beautiful! – Lewis Carroll • Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees takes off his shoes. – Elizabeth Barrett Browning

• For me, nature is something you watch on the Discovery Channel, or on the evening news — as you learn how much more of it’s been savaged to make way for the Blackberry realm that is my home – Tahir Shah • Hey, Barack Obama had to give up his Blackberry. He’s the first wired president. … He might have to give his Blackberry because of security reasons. Because they’re easy to hack into. In fact, when Obama heard he might have to give it up, he said, ‘OMG! WTF?’ I mean, he couldn’t believe it. – Jay Leno • How much are we willing to lose from our already short lives by losing ourselves in our Blackberries, our iPhones, by not paying attention to the human being across from us who is talking with us, by being so lazy that we’re not willing to process deeply? – Joshua Foer • I always loved writing, but I feel like I really started writing when I got my BlackBerry . It was the first time I could take these crazy thoughts in my head and actually get them out. This little device became my journal on the road. – Duff McKagan • I am impressed with the innovation in the wireless marketplace. The Blackberry, the iPhone, the Pre, and other smart devices are breakthrough technologies that have helped revolutionize the wireless space. – Julius Genachowski • I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journeywork of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree toad is a chef-d’oeurve for the highest, And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven, And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery, And the cow crunching with depress’d head surpasses any statue, And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels! – Walt Whitman • I don’t do Twitter, Facebook; none of that. My email I do from my Blackberry or my iPhone. – Penelope Cruz • I don’t have a BlackBerry or whatever you call it. And there is something to be said for being isolated and out of phone range, because you can fall into a habit to such a degree that you don’t even realise that you’ve lost something: silence. – Viggo Mortensen • I don’t have an alarm clock. If someone needs to wake me up, then I have my BlackBerry next to me. – Mark Zuckerberg • I don’t like sitting still at a desk and often conduct business on my Blackberry or in walking meetings. – Dylan Lauren • I don’t text, I don’t have a Blackberry. Literally, I just have a cell phone that I haven’t programmed and the whole Bluetooth. No. I don’t even have an earpiece for my cell phone. – Steve Carell • I hate the iPhone. I love the BlackBerry – BlackBerry wins in my opinion. The iPhone is a toy. – Brett Ratner • I have a Blackberry which I use, but I am one of those people who can only type on it with one hand. – Dev Patel • I have a little bit of an addiction to work. So I’m always hiding in the bathroom with my Blackberry to work when I’m on holiday. – Penelope Cruz • I like to talk to people. I’ve got one assistant, one Blackberry. That’s my overhead. I don’t text that much or email. I like to sit down face-to-face and have a conversation with you. I’m old-fashioned. – Mark Wahlberg • I love to go out in late September among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries to eat blackberries for breakfast, the stalks very prickly, a penalty they earn for knowing the black art of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries fall almost unbidden to my tongue, as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words like strengths or squinched, many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps, which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well in the silent, startled, icy, black language of blackberry – eating in late September. – Galway Kinnell • I play Texas Hold’em on my Blackberry. I have amassed a fortune on that. I have almost 30 million dollars from playing. It is unreal. – Chris Cornell • I started writing an album on flights to Africa and Brazil, but it was crazy because I left the notebook on the plane. It had seven or eight songs in it. After that, I’m not writing any more songs on notebooks – and I keep my Blackberry close! – Estelle • I talk about stuff like my Blackberry, Lost, the internet, music, etc. so I guess that leads to the “nerd” moniker. But I don’t get it that much to be honest. I guess its better than being labeled a “racist” comedian. – Aziz Ansari • I think healthy competition is good for business, and really at the end best for end-users. Just think about what Android would have been if it was not for iPhone – a better blackberry? – Jack Levin • I think if you asked people “what’s the biggest problem in your life?” They’d say, “I just don’t have time for anything!” And at our fingertips, if it isn’t e-mail, it’s our Blackberry, and it’s our iPods and telephones – we never stop. We never take those moments to stop the stimulus to find out “what’s going on in there? What’s really happening?” And then things start to build up. And then we are almost afraid to slow down. – Elizabeth Lesser • I think the discipline comes with turning that cellphone and Blackberry off and unplugging completely. You do that and you go through some withdrawals in the beginning. You start thinking, ‘Oh, do I need to do this? Do I need to do that?’ You forget that we were doing just fine with the payphone. – Matthew McConaughey • I use technology for communication, but I don’t have a Blackberry or an iPhone. I use an outdated cell phone, but I’m fine with it. – Nicolas Cage • I used to make fun of my friends who had BlackBerries. And I know that the expression CrackBerry has been going around, but now I fully understand it. I’m actually addicted to a piece of machinery, and that’s really embarrassing – John Krasinski • I want to reach a new generation. That’s why I am Twittering now. I have a BlackBerry, an iPhone and a Mac. – Buzz Aldrin • I was thinking how strange it is that water is one of the best, simplest things on this planet, and still with a simple glass of water you can neutralize so many of the greatest technological advances that we provide. Like with my blackberry, I can get in touch with so many people, but if I dip it in a small glass of water I’m completely disconnected. – Demetri Martin • I wish I could [keep a journal]. I have a lot of journals with one page half written in. I sometimes will write myself a quick email on my Blackberry when I think of something. – Louis C. K. • I would give you my soul in a blackberry pie; and a knife to cut it with. – Dorothy Dunnett • I write everything down. I e-mail the second I think of something, or I write notes in my BlackBerry calendar. I set up reminder alerts on my phone. And I have a notebook by my bedside so I can write down any last-minute ideas. – Giada De Laurentiis • If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion. – William Shakespeare • I’m not suggesting that the entire nation can’t be successful, but there’s something to it when you have 150 cable channels and the Internet at your fingertips and video games and all kinds of ADD-addled devices like my iPhone and your BlackBerry and things that keep us busy. – Jim Courier • I’m not terribly technological. I’m awfully backward about iPads and BlackBerries and suchlike; I still have a great fondness for Teletext, and I clung onto my fax machine for as long as I could, but eventually you have to move with the times. – David Tang • In America, Blackberry Farm in Tennessee is one of the most amazing hotels I’ve had the privilege of staying at. – Gail Simmons • In terms of the technology I use the most, it’s probably a tie between my Blackberry and my MacBook Pro laptop. That’s how I communicate with the rest of the world and how I handle all the business I have to handle. – John Legend • Indigo has a purifying, stabilizing, cleansing effect when fear, repression, and obsessions have disturbed your mental body. Indigo food vibrations are: blackberries, blue plums, blueberries, purple brocoli, beetroot, and purple grapes. – Tae Yun Kim • It is incumbent upon us all to raise the bar, whether you are a multibillion-dollar international corporation or a mom-and-pop selling blackberry jam. – Howard Schmidt • It is painful to watch children trying to show off for parents who are engrossed in their cell phones. Children are nostalgic for the ‘good old days’ when parents used to read to them without the cell phone by their side or watch football games or Disney movies without having the BlackBerry handy. – Sherry Turkle • It took 10 years to go from building the initial Smartphone to reaching the mass market. BlackBerry came out in 2003 and it didn’t get to about a billion units until 2013. So I can’t imagine it would be much faster for VR. – Mark Zuckerberg • I’ve been thinking of trying my hand at rap. I’ve been recording snippets on my BlackBerry. – Rufus Wainwright • I’ve just been away for a week, and I dropped my BlackBerry in the sea while I was messing around with the kids, so no one can reach me. Blissful. I heartily recommend it. – Nick Clegg • I’ve really hung in there with my BlackBerry. The main reason I like it better than an iPhone is that I can type better. I saw Rachel Zoe using a white one and I was jealous. The risk, of course, is that it could look like a Lady BIC. I’ve just learned to own it though. – Andy Cohen • I’ve tried plenty of telephones. I tried to get into the Samsung Galaxy and the Blackberry, but the iPhone is just too easy to use. The camera takes clear pictures and the phone itself looks great. Like all Apple products, it kind of just makes sense. – Avicii • Life was just a tire swing. ‘Jambalaya’ was the only song I could sing. Blackberry pickin’, eatin’ fried chicken, And I never knew a thing about pain. Life was just a tire swing. – Jimmy Buffett • Mindfulness means being aware of how you’re deploying your attention and making decisions about it, and not letting the tweet or the buzzing of your BlackBerry call your attention. – Howard Rheingold • O, blackberry tart, with berries as big as your thumb, purple and black, and thick with juice, and a crust to endear them that will go to cream in your mouth, and both passing down with such a taste that will make you close your eyes and wish you might live forever in the wideness of that rich moment. – Richard Llewellyn • Oh, no-” They weren’t even on the runway, and Jonah’s father was already immersed in his BlackBerry. “Remember those ‘Live Large with the Wiz Generation’ posters? Well, guess how that translates into Chinese- ‘Jonah Wizard Makes Your Ancestors Fat’. – Gordon Korman • Once off the bush The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour. I always felt like crying. It wasn’t fair That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot. Each year I hoped they’d keep, knew they would not. -Blackberry picking – Seamus Heaney • One of the misconceptions about BlackBerry is that it’s your parents’ smartphone. – Thorsten Heins • Purple as tulips in May, mauve into lush velvet, purple as the stain blackberries leave on the lips, on the hands, the purple of ripe grapes sunlit and warm as flesh. – Marge Piercy • Such tenderness, those afternoons and evenings, saying blackberry, blackberry, blackberry. – Robert Hass • Teenagers talk about the idea of having each other’s ‘full attention.’ They grew up in a culture of distraction. They remember their parents were on cell phones when they were pushed on swings as toddlers. Now, their parents text at the dinner table and don’t look up from their BlackBerry when they come for end-of-school day pickup. – Sherry Turkle • The Blackberry is really essential for keeping up on my emails when I’m out of the office, which is a lot. – David Neeleman • The Harvard Business Review recently had an article called ‘The Human Moment,’ about how to make real contact with a person at work: … The fundamental thing you have to do is turn off your BlackBerry, close your laptop, end your daydream and pay full attention to the person. – Daniel Goleman • The problem with our Blackberry society is that hardly anyone has time anymore to have an unhurried discussion about the long-term developments that will change our lives. – Paul Achleitner • The way we measure productivity is flawed. People checking their BlackBerry over dinner is not the measure of productivity. – Tim Ferriss • There are a couple of different types of food I eat a lot. I was raised in the South, in Tennessee, so I’m going to go with comfort food, soul food. I would probably start with collard greens and candied baby carrots and then have some biscuits and white gravy – and for dessert, probably blackberry cobbler. – Megan Fox • There is a newly coined word in the English language for the moment when the person we’re with whips out their BlackBerry or answers that cell phone, and all of a sudden we don’t exist. The word is ‘pizzled’: it’s a combination of puzzled and pissed off. – Daniel Goleman • There may be 300,000 apps for the iPhone and iPad, but the only app you really need is the browser. You don’t need an app for the web … You don’t need to go through some kind of SDK … You can use your web tools … And you can publish your apps to the BlackBerry without writing any native code. • There’s something really terrible about having your BlackBerry next to your bed or having your laptop in the living room when you’re talking to someone. The biggest source of stress in my life is the screen, the blogging. – Jessica Valenti • To me, ‘Blackberry Way’ stands up as a song that could be sung in any era, really. We do it with the new doing all sort of fanfare things in it and it works really well. It goes down great with audiences. – Roy Wood • Today, all our wives and husbands have Blackberries or iPhones or Android devices or whatever-the progeny of those original 950 and 957 models that put data in our pockets. Now we all check their email (or Twitter, or Facebook, or Instagram, or) compulsively at the dinner table, or the traffic light. Now we all stow our devices on the nightstand before bed, and check them first thing in the morning. We all do. It’s not abnormal, and it’s not just for business. It’s just what people do. Like smoking in 1965, it’s just life. – Ian Bogost • We would load up the yellow Cutlass Supreme station wagon and pick blackberries during blackberry season or spring onions during spring onion season. For us, food was part of the fabric of our day. – Mario Batali • What is so seductive about texting, about keeping that phone on, about that little red light on the BlackBerry, is you want to know who wants you. – Sherry Turkle • When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the brambles nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching my ripped arms, thinking of nothing, cramming the black honey of summer into my mouth; all day my body accepts what it is. In the dark creeks that run by there is this thick paw of my life darting among the black bells, the leaves; there is this happy tongue. – Mary Oliver • When you have the baby, there is no BlackBerry, no computer; you just have the baby on your stomach, and your heart is beating the same time as the baby’s. It’s very nice. – Carine Roitfeld • When you’re travelling, your day is jam-packed. I just don’t have time to whip out a PC all the time. But I can whip out a BlackBerry and tweet. I keep a constant diary of where I’m at and why I’m there. – Kevin O’Leary • Writing is more than just the making of a series of comprehensible statements: it is the gathering in of connotations; the harvesting of them, like blackberries in a good season, ripe and heavy, snatched from among the thorns of logic. – Fay Weldon • You know, you just know, that after the president goes out there and announces he wants to make community college free for all Americans – as though anything government does is ‘free’ – or is unilaterally and unconstitutionally legalizing millions of undocumented immigrants, he comes back to the offices, pulls out the presidential BlackBerry, and gleefully follows along as the Right goes completely ape over these wild policy decisions. – John Podhoretz • You’ve seen [Doanld Trump] come out with a lot more specifics. He’s not in hiding or smashing BlackBerry or BleachBit himself to death like we’ve seen Hillary do or Hillary [Clinton] throwing her stuff, you know, under the bus. She’s not showing presidential leadership qualities. – Kimberly Guilfoyle