Crying TV Tropes That Apply to My Comic Characters

Berserker Tears - Sick Boyfriend started crying these while breaking up with Sick Girlfriend upon discovering that she never really liked him.

Bleed 'Em and Weep - in the Lost Media comic "Confronting Yourself", Sick Boyfriend started to cry once he unintentionally murdered his Anti-self

Crocodile Tears - Sick Boyfriend once did this to convince his teacher to let him skip his final two exams in school. This plan of his worked. DrugFriend also picked up this skill when he was convincing his dad to let him go Trick or Treating when he was five

Cry Into Chest - "Confronting Yourself" had SBF sob into his mums chest. The same thing happened at his 17th birthday party. DrugFriend also cried in Sick Boyfriend's chest after being fired from his job at FFFFE

Cry Laughing - Sick Boyfriend usually sheds tears of laughter whenever DrugFriend is called 'Drugsy Wugsy', often wetting himself afterwards

Crying a River - once Sick BF cried a fountain of tears because he had developed stage fright at the age of nine. Boyfriend is also no stranger to doing this

Crying at Your Birthday Party - see "Cry Into Chest". Sick Boyfriend once cried at his 17th birthday party upon waiting for his dad to show up

Crying Critters - the Lost Media comic called "Pet Daze" had Mrs Snickers crying once she was sent back to the pet store she came from

Everybody Cries - so many times where multiple people cried. One mega example is when Sick PonyCentral was crying over the possibility of dying to Nathan's demented father, as seen in Love at First Bite The Sequel. This caused Naughty PonyCentral to cry, and Boyfriend also started crying as well. Another example is when 95% of Parodies Town were crying over The Titanic movie

Heartbreak and Ice Cream - it was shown in VoreTober that Sick Boyfriend was crying and eating strawberry ice cream

Inelegant Blubbering - Sick PonyCentral, Sick Boyfriend, DrugFriend and a variety of characters do this, most often followed by sniffling

It's OK To Cry - in Mother's Day Mayhem, Freund tried desperately to hide his tears from PonyCentral during a therapy session. It didn't take long for him to burst into tears on the spot

Manly Tears - James Matric (Panchito Boyfriend). Whenever he sees a sad movie, he sheds a single tear

Men Don't Cry - heavily subverted.

My Eyes Are Leaking - most of the characters are subject to this trope

Ocular Gushers - Sick Boyfriend whenever he's reminded of DrugFriend in the remastered version of "A Boy Gotta Work". Sick PonyCentral also does this in LAFB TS after she found out that Sick Patrick was held hostage by Mr Files

Prone to Tears - Sick Boyfriend, based on my AU of him. He will resort to crying in distressing situations. DrugFriend and Sick PonyCentral also tend to start crying at the drop of a hat, and it also doesn't take much to cause Naughty PonyCentral and Nathan to cry as well. In fact, everyone in the PonyCentral universe, including PonyCentral herself, will all start crying for different reasons

Puppy-Dog Eyes - happens whenever begging is optional

Running Away to Cry - DrugFriend after he got fired from his job at FFFFE

Single Tear - James Matric (Panchito Boyfriend). See Manly Tears for the explanation

Tears of Awe - in "Love at First Bite Part 7", Naughty PonyCentral cries these after giving birth to a baby girl. In the bathtub. With the water still in the tub. It's a miracle that the baby survived

Tears of Fear - Sick Boyfriend whenever he sees a needle. Or gets scared of lightning

Tears of Joy - Sick PonyCentral once she sees her newborn baby girl for the first time

Trying Not to Cry - Freund whenever someone asks him about his mum

Your Makeup is Running - whenever Sick PonyCentral cries, her mascara spills down her face

Unable to Cry - Steven Graphite, AKA The DoodleBob Boyfriend. Makes sense since he is a sentient 2D drawing

Tasty Tears - Benedict Gumballs. He is a sentient Popsicle, so his tears are blueberry flavoured

The Parisian Orgy or Paris is Repeopled by Arthur Rimbaud

O cowards, there she is! Pile out into the stations! The sun with its fiery lungs blew clear The boulevards that one evening the Barbarians filled. Here is the holy City, seated in the West! Come! we'll stave off the return of the fires, Here are the quays, here are the boulevards, here Are the houses against the pale, Radiant blue-starred, one evening, by the red flashes of bombs! Hide the dead palaces with forests of planks! Affrighted, the dying daylight freshens your looks. Look at the red-headed troop of the wrigglers of hips: Be mad, you'll be comical, being haggard! Pack of bitches on heat, eating poultices, The cry from the houses of gold calls you. Plunder! Eat! See the night of joy and deep twitchings Coming down on the street. O desolate drinkers, Drink! When the light comes, intense and crazed, To ransack round you the rustling luxuries, You're not going to dribble into your glasses, Without motion or sound, with your eyes lost in white distances? Knock it back, to the Queen whose buttocks cascade in folds! Listen to the working of stupid tearing hiccups! Listen to them leaping in the fiery night The panting idiots, the aged, the nonentities, the lackeys! O hearts of filth, appalling mouths, Work harder, mouths of foul stenches! Wine for these ignoble torpors, at these tables... Your bellies are melting with shame, O Conquerors! Open your nostrils to these superb nauseas! Steep the tendons of your necks in strong poisons! Laying his crossed hands on the napes of your childish necks The Poet says to you: "O cowards! be mad! Because you are ransacking the guts of Woman, You fear another convulsion from her, Crying out, and stifling your infamous perching On her breast with a horrible pressure. Syphilitics, madmen, kings, puppets, ventriloquists, What can you matter to Paris the whore, Your souls or your bodies, your poisons or your rags? She'll shake you off, you pox-rotten snarlers! And when you are down, whimpering on your bellies, Your sides wrung, clamouring for your money back, distracted, The red harlot with her breasts swelling with battles Will clench her hard fists, far removed from your stupor! When your feet, Paris, danced so hard in anger! When you had so many knife wounds; When you lay helpless, still retaining in your clear eyes A little of the goodness of the tawny spring, O city in pain, O city almost dead, With your face and your two breasts pointing towards the Future Which opens to your pallor its thousand million gates, City whom the dark Past could bless: Body galvanized back to life to suffer tremendous pains, You are drinking in dreadful life once more! You feel The ghastly pale worms flooding back in your veins, And the icy fingers prowling on your unclouded love! And it does you no harm. The worms, the pale worms, Will obstruct your breath of Progress no more Than the Stryx could extinguish the eyes of the Caryatides From whose blue sills fell tears of sidereal gold." Although it is frightful to see you again covered in this fashion; although no city was ever made into a more foul-smelling Ulcer on the face of green Nature, The Poet says to you: "Your Beauty is Marvellous!" The tempest sealed you in supreme poetry; The huge stirring of strength comes to your aid; Your work comes to the boil, death groans, O chosen City! Hoard in your heart the stridors of the ominous trumpet. The Poet will take the sobs of the Infamous, The hate of the Galley slaves, the clamour of the Damned; And the beams of his love will scourge Womankind. His verses will leap out: There's for you! There! Villains! - Society, and everything, is restored: - the orgies Are weeping with dry sobs in the old brothels: And on the reddened walls, the gaslights in frenzy, Flare balefully upwards to the wan blue skies!

A definitive rating of Daredevil artists based solely on how cute they draw Foggy Nelson

finally ranking them by what’s important

Bill Everett

An infant. Still unsullied by literal decades of Matt’s bullshit. A good good boy. 10/10

Wally Wood

Classy. Lovin’ the look he’s rockin. However, points off for being a very generic comics man, does not have fully formed Friend Shape.  7/10

John Romita Sr.

Look, to be fair the only image I could find of this Foggy is of him being threatened by Spider-man (you know how it is) so this is probably not an entirely fair represenation of this man’s art. That being said, still has generic comic man syndrome and I don’t like the hair. 6/10

Gene Colan

See, now, that’s my fuckin’ BOY! The official start of the Anime Bangs™ that Foggy will continue to rock for the next fifty goddamn years. I love him. 11/10

 Bob Brown

I’m sorry but this cover is just FANTASTIC so I included all of it rather than cropped Foggy. In general the look is okay but the context is amazing and my man is rockin’ the suit. 10/10

Gil Kane

Another example of me being only able to find one Foggy image, so again not an entirely fair judgement, but based on this alone like...oof. Girl get your eyebrows done. Get rid of the sideburns. Bring back the bangs.  Where is his good good roundness??? Bad overall. 3/10

Frank Miller

Frank Miller I hate literally everything you stand for and you were one of the worst things that ever happened to Foggy Nelson in terms of how you wrote his character and if I ever meet you IRL we WILL be fighting in the back of a Denny’s parking lot but I am judging this not on the content of the story but the artistic look of Foggy alone and based JUST on the visuals...goddammit. I love this. I love everything about this. Foggy is a fucking sartorial nightmare and I would lay down my entire life for him just because of that jacket and bowtie. You won this round, Miller. 12/10

David Mazzucchelli

A solid Foggy. I like the two-toned lighting things going on. A little jockish for my taste though. 9/10

John Romita Jr.

The eyes. The eyes are where this falls flat for me. (I’ve looked at other images and they all are just a little off). Like the bangs? Excellent. The roundness? Very good. But yeah I’m unsettled. Still a good 7/10.

 Lee Wicks

I’ve seen how he draws Foggy in long shots and it’s fine so I don’t know why this image is so extremely cursed. Mr. Wicks, why did you give him the face of a pug??? Bad. Points gained back for the green bowtie pink shirt combo tho. 4/10

Scott McDaniel

I! LOVE! HIM! He is the human embodiment of a warm hug and I would do anything for him. Extremely good job Scott 12/10.

Joe Quesada

There’s nothing, like, ostensibly wrong with this Foggy, I just don’t feel him as much as some. The jacket is a plus but his hair came straight out of a 90s sitcom and I don’t fully trust him. Still 8/10

Alex Maleev

A very good, sturdy, dependable Foggy. I love the look of murder in his eyes when he talks to Matt. Truly captured his exhaustion after dealing with decades of horseshit. 10/10

Paolo Rivera

Good. Dependable. Trustworthy. Love the nose. Would not kick him out of bed for eating crackers. ;) 11/10

Chris Samnee

LITERALLY FUCKING GOD TIER. I’M SORRY EVERY OTHER DAREDEVIL ARTIST BUT YOU CAN’T COMPETE IN TERMS OF CUTEST FOGGY. HE HAS NO BAD ANGLES, NO BAD EXPRESSIONS, EVERY LOOK WAS MADE TO BE WORN BY HIM. ANGELS LOOK UPON HIM AND WEEP TEARS OF JOY. THESE TWO IMAGES ENCAPSULATE OPPOSITE ENDS OF FOGGY’S “My feelings towards Matt” SPECTRUM AND YET I FALL IN LOVE WITH BOTH OF THEM. I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE HIM. THANK YOU CHRIS FOR MY LIFE.  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞/10

Ron Garney

Eh. Not feelin’ it. Definitely a depression look. 6/10

Mike Henderson

The general shape is good but the face needs a little work. Still very much a pal though, so I can get behind this Foggy. 9/10

Cool Hip Anime!

Anime

Large sparkling eyes, brightly coloured frizzy hair, obscure nose and high facial expression reminds us connected with only one factor.

Anime

Can you do you know what the item is?

If your response is actually Anime, then STOP, to see an otaku's brain!

Cartoons (pronounced: "Ah-nee-may") will be a form of animation typically from Okazaki, japan. They have got their own style this means you will show that in peculiar and wonderful ways. Cartoons also has its very own sense associated with comedy along with has a unique thought processes. It can get actually strong and serious, as well as it could truly be silliest (like: "Lucky Star", "Kill Me Baby") in addition to craziest (like: "Death Note", "Gintama") thing a person have ever before seen. Many Anime demonstrates are centered on popular mangas (Japanese Comics), just putting any not much more life into these people. Cartoons often covers far more serious issues than normal cartoons. In the united states, cartoons tend to be considered a form regarding enjoyment meant for youngsters. In Okazaki , japan, people involving all ages (no, not necessarily newborn babies! ) see anime. Most shows and flicks are centred for youngsters, teenager or young older people, but you can also get many cartoons that are made with regard to older crowd even business people and housewives!

The phrase "Anime" is the close pronunciation connected with "animation" within Japanese, exactly where this expression references just about all animation. Outside the house Japan, cartoons is applied to refer specifically toon from Japan or Western disseminated animation style usually characterized by colourful visuals, attractive characters and fantastical designs. Japanese animation commenced inside 20th century. Katsudo Shashin is claimed for you to be the first Japan animation. The 1923 Fantastic Kanto earthquake triggered wide-spread destruction including demolition associated with earliest Anime Companies as well as anime works; departing Kouchi's Namakura Gatana because the most well-known surviving animation. The 1st cartoons television series was Otogi Manga Calendar aired by 1961 to 1964.

This introduction to anime ended up being in category four while I watched "City Hunter" in a T. Sixth v. channel, Animax. Though I could see anime (as a make a difference of fact the particular multiple of anime is usually anime) like "Doraemon", "Shinchan", "Avatar-The last airbender", "Summer Days and nights with Coo", "AstroBoy", "Dragon Ball-Z", "Naruto" in the past just before yet I did definitely not recognize the profound perception regarding anime as this was dubbed throughout Hindi (rather I would point out "contaminated" instead of "dubbed" by means of old, ridiculous man noises in Hindi who also would break unnecessary, slap-stick jokes deviating viewers through the plot and also terrain you in a hotch-potch of indianised anime). My very own sister ( three yrs young than me even though I actually refuse to confess she is older when compared with me) took weird curiosity in Japanese anime similar to " Tears to Tiara" and "Stigma of typically the Wind" aired in Animax: that we thought strange from that time while the "patriotic inertia" will stop me from receiving something but Indian products. I got first repelled by often the proven fact that all the words casts have been in Japoneses and to understand history I had to consider difficulty of reading the actual Subtitles in english and had to help correlate the particular speech using the video proven; regarding which great deal involving attention seemed to be required. That was impossible personally in order to do both those exhaustion tasks at the very same time, so I delivered to my old Capital t. V. channels: Cartoon Community, Nickolodeans, Hungama, Pogo, Come back and Jetix.

After some sort of very long hiatus, in type seven, My spouse and i again started out experimenting our skills with understanding anime which often converted out to be a new success, when I 1st delighted in anime including "Hayate the Combat Butler" along with "Fairy Tail". Also! This kind of sweet poison! Following a total hectic day time in school, expenses, floating around classes, art in addition to audio classes, and full various other heck lot of routines; I waited only to be able to settle-back and relax for you to watch these kinds of anime. From that time, nothing was of importance to me; not also my parents, close friends as well as teachers. In that online realms of pleasure My partner and i could equipment my failures and sufferings as effortlessly as I got obtained in successes. Nothing irritated me, except when We were required to attend phone telephone calls or to wide open entrance, if any guests will come when the anime indicates were ongoing. However, cartoons hardly did affect this studies as after seeing two hour long plan, I suffered from PARTS (Post Anime Depression Syndrome) that I suffered typically the sense of guilt of wasting moment that has been more intensified through my very own mother's rebuke (I wish to describe this circumstance as "Kata Ghaye nuun-er Chheta") and this also guilt might propel my family to review harder, concentrate and also perform for longer hours this also occurred as daily schedule in my opinion; so I can easily get the best of most connected with the students be that researching or swimming or even any different work.

Hence to all parents, I actually would like to ask for allowing your kids to help watch anime because it proved helpful out for me (maybe I use strange wirings within my human brain! ). Enjoying anime would help an individual to hone your fictional, vocabulary and analytical expertise. More importantly, it would certainly serve as a enormous source of entertainment, at the very least way beyond the little league of daily Indian soap.

Understanding the culture associated with origins is very crucial to realize the plan, be it Japanese cartoons, Korean language Aeni webtoons, China's Manhua Anime or Us sitcoms (which I endured after i was novice inside observing anime). If anyone have watched virtually any cartoons, you will probably discover that often the characters respond differently along with things throughout general (like properties, vehicles, eating etc. ) are usually bit different from everything you used to. Probably the actual most readily evident distinctions between Japanese computer animation in addition to others is the a muslim everywhere huge eyes (bigger in comparison with nose), brightly girl locks, some well-endowed character types as well as exaggerated emotional movement and also gestures are regular regarding anime. Being hand-drawn, cartoons is separated coming from actuality providing an best path intended for escapism directly into which followers can involve themselves having relative simplicity. The production of cartoons focusses less on the particular cartoon movement and considerably more on the realistic look involving settings like "The Yard of Words".

The particular beginning and credit sequences connected with most anime are combined with Japanese rock or take song which maybe related to the anime series, simply by popular bands. "Nanairo Namida" by Tomato n' Pinus radiata of anime "Beelzebub" along with "Just Awake" of cartoons "Hunter X Hunter" are a few of my favourite anime tunes, which you may try out.

Since there are several sorts of cartoons, one will need to classify these individuals with different genres, some associated with them are generally: Action, Audio, Mecha, Experience, Mystery, Bishounen, Yuri, Yaoi, Akuma, Seinen, Shoujo, Shounen, Kodomo, Piece of Existence and a lot of more. Whether you're the die-hard anime fan (like me generally labelled seeing that "otaku"), a casual watcher, the interested onlooker or perhaps commoner from non-anime website: cartoons genres shall supply you actually with some simple knowledge which help you in order to venture the cartoons planet with ease and joy.

I am going to be able to share some remarkable rates of anime which will etch my heart usually are:

• Motoko Kusanagi regarding "Ghost in the Shell a couple of: Innocence"

"We weep to get blood of a pet although not for the our blood of a species of fish. Endowed are those with any tone. "

• Shinchi Akiyama of "Liar Game"

"People SHOULD be doubted. Many people get me wrong this specific concept. Doubting people is simply a part of getting for you to know them. Just what quite a few people call "trust" is absolutely just giving up about wanting to understand others in addition to that extremely act is definitely far more serious than questioning. It is actually 'apathy'. "

• Hachiman Hikigaya of "My Teen Passionate Comedy SNAFU"

"If simple truth is cruel

Then

Lie needs to be kind

Then

Kindness need to be lie"

You can observe anime with T. /. by opting-in to Animax, Aniplus, AnimeCental, TV Tokyo or online on internet sites like animehaven. to help, kissanime, Funimation. com, Netflix, Crunchyroll. com, hulu, Vimeo and so forth.

ENJOY WATCHING CARTOONS!

The Parisian Orgy by Arthur Rimbaud

O cowards! There she is! Pile out into the stations! The sun with its fiery lungs blew clear the boulevards that, one evening, the Barbarians filled. Here is the holy City, seated in the West! Come! We'll stave off the return of the fires; here are the quays, here are the boulevards, here are the houses against the pale, radiant blue-starred, one evening, by the red flashes of bombs! Hide the dead places with forests of planks! Affrighted, the dying daylight freshens your looks. Look at the red-headed troop of the wrigglers of hips: be mad, you'll be comical, being haggard! Pack of bitches on heat, eating poultices: the cry from the houses of gold calls you! Plunder! Eat! See the night of joy and deep twitchings coming down on the street. O desolate drinkers, Drink! When the light comes, intense and crazed, to ransack round you the rustling luxuries, you're not going to dribbe into your glasses without motion or sound, with your eyes lost in white distances? Knock it back: to the Queen whose buttocks cascade in folds! Listen to the working of stupid tearing hiccups! Listen to them leaping n the fiery night: the panting idiots, the aged, the nonentities, the lackeys! O hearts of filth, appalling mouths; work harder, mouths of foul stenches! Wine for these ignoble torpors, at these tables… Your bellies are melting with shame, O Conquerors! Open your nostrils to these superb nauseas! Steep the tendons of your necks in strong poisons! Laying his crossed hands on the napes of your childish necks, the Poet says to you: 'O cowards! Be mad! Because you are ransacking the guts of Woman, you fear another convulsion from her, crying out, and stifling your infamous perching on her breast with a horrible pressure. Syphilitics, madmen, kings, puppets, ventriloquists! What can you matter to Paris the whore? Your souls or your bodies, your poisons or your rags? She'll shake you off, you pox-rotten snarlers! And when you are down, whimpering on your bellies, your sides wrung, clamouring for your money back, distracted, the red harlot with her breasts swelling with battles will clench her hard fists, far removed from your stupor!' When your feet, Paris, danced so hard in anger! When you had so many knife wounds; when you lay helpless, still retaining in your clear eyes a little of the goodness of the tawny spring; O city in pain; O city almost dead, with your face and your two breasts pointing towards the Future which opens to your pallor its thousand million gates; city whom the dark Past could bless: Body galvanized back to life to suffer tremendous pains, you are drinking in dreadful life once more! You feel he ghastly pale worms flooding back in your veins, the icy fingers prowling on your unclouded love! And it does you no harm. The worms, the pale worms, will obstruct your breath of Progress no more than the Stryx could extinguish the eyes of the Caryatides, from whose blue sills fell tears of sidereal gold. Although it is frightful to see you again covered in this fashion; although no city was ever made into a more foul-smelling ulcer on the face of green Nature, the Poet says to you: 'Your beauty is Marvelous!' The tempest sealed you in supreme poetry; the huge stirring of strength comes to your aid; your work comes to the boil, death groans, O chosen City! Hoard in your heart the stridors of the ominous trumpet. The Poet will take the sobs of the Infamous the hate of the Galley-slaves, the clamour of the Damned; and the beams of his love will scourge Womankind. His verses will leap out: There's for you! There! Villains! -Society, and everything, is restored: - the orgies are weeping with dry sobs in the old brothels: and on the reddened walls the gaslights in frenzy flare balefully upwards to the wan blue skies!

A Gypsie

It was either their eighth, or ninth night  together, Gaves couldn't remember clearly, but it had to be one of those two. The window to his rented room above the entrance to The Gilded Rose was open; commoners, nobles, and beggars alike bustling about even at the early hours of the morning. It was almost comical how much noise you could make without being heard, and that was usually the case with whomever he brought home; the joys of living in a busy part of town were pratically endless. Zerella was sprawled out on his sagging bed, covers draped across her bare body like an artist's rendition of 'beauty'. Gently she came down from the high, the sweat on her body making her glisten. "Mmm... you were wonderful." She purred at Gaves, the raven haired gypsie talking to his back. Sitting on the foot of the bed, the then courier fumbled with his trousers, snaking them back up his legs. He heard her words loud and clear, but his pride demanded a repeat. "Hmm?" He asked. Happily cooing back to the shirtless lover, Zerella responds. "I said you were wonderful, dear." The courier grinned smugly, and answered back. "When have I never not been?"

The sheer arrogance of this man was almost enough to smother someone; Zerrella seemed to take an opposite affect to it. Giggling with a snort, she rolled over in the sheets, curling up in a ball of blankets. Backing up against the headboard, she sits up with a pillow behind her back. "Gaves Hillvack, oh how you never fail to impress." More giddy giggles ensued; the woman either a ditz, or just madly in love. As if he heard it all before, Gaves rolls his eyes, finally flipping his sea green orbs over to peer at the woman. "Don't count on me stopping either, ok?" Bouncing up to his feet, the sated man searched the various articles of clothing tossed on the floor, looking for his shirt, and bandana. "Mhmm... Well, if you're going to be like -that-." Zerella starts, no hint of faltering in her feelings. "Then, I think it's high time I brought you to meet my friends, after all.." The woman's faced beamed with pride, ecstatic to say the next part. "You are my boyfriend." Gaves still had not found his shirt, it was probably underneath her dress, he thought. Only half listening to her, his entire body stiffens at the mention of relationships. Without remorse, he sighs, and continues searching. "No, i'm not." Gaves sounding as if he was turning down an offer for a pamphlet about the benefits of the light.

Shocked as ever, embarrassment took over Zerella. "W-what do you mean, Gaves?" The notion that they couldn't be together was clearly discomforting, especially after how much they had been through in the past fourteen days. Gaves continued, his tone making him sound uncaring to any of her investments. "I said I'm not you're boyfriend." Straightening up with a defeated look, he puts his hands on his hips. With a half turn of his head, he asked. "Have you seen my shirt?" Zerella looked as if the light in her eyes had died, the deep blues now empty, and cold. In a softer voice she asked, "why..." too baffled to think farther than one-word questions. Without batting an eye, Gaves retorted bluntly. "Because I wanna keep fuckin'."  Perking up, Zerella tried to reassure him. "We can keep do-" Gaves cut her off. "With -other- women." Zerella's eyes began to swell, her emotions a clear part as to why they had been doing something so intimate. "Don't you l-love me? I love -you-, I really do. Y-you-you're my moo-moon and stars. My...m-muse." Sputtered Zerella. Spotting the sleeve of his shirt, Gaves reached for it; the damn thing was buried underneath her dress, he knew it. "Hmm what? No, no I don't love you." Confused as to why she was even bringing this up, Gaves asked. "Why are you asking these things, are you ok?" The man's posture was cool, and relaxed. It was a stark contrast to the now shivering gypsie whom was coiled up in the sheets.

With tears threatening to fall, she plead her case. "Well, well.. well. I thought that because, umm. because...." Gaves was getting annoyed with her delivery, a look telling her to speed things up. "I thought be-because of -this-." Now pink eyes gesture to the scene about them. "I thought that because we had done so much... that. that you loved me?" Incapable of being any rougher with the delivery, Gaves sighs. "Look, Zerella. You're an absolute blast, and anyone who gets a chance to pin ya' down is lucky, but you're not for me." The showman ever, he sauntered over to the open window. "Niether is she, or her, or her." Gaves pointing to the various women walking about in the trade district at the waking hours of morning. "Even her. None of them can give what I need." Zerella was only angered by the show, her tears turning red with rage. "So all you wanna do is fuck?!" She barked at him, a mixture of shock, sadness, embarrassment, rage, and torment all swirling together in one. The man had to be crazy, had to be. It was all just one big joke, a really bad joke, Zerella prayed. Sadly, Gaves wasn't joking. With a simple shrug of his shoulders, he replied. "Yeah." Truthfully, Gaves didn't see what the big deal was, and was more concerned as to why someone had put their feelings into it. Zerella looked for the nearest  thing to chuck at his head, the night table's empty glass of wine would do. Narrowly it missed him, shattering against the wall with a faint splash of red. "Hey!" Gaves raised his voice, now concerned for his safety. "Take it easy, alright? I mean, it's not like we don't have to stop -this-." The woman only turned redder, her rage only deepening at the sheer ignorance of Gaves. The next thing to go was the pillow that she leaned against. It bounced harmlessly off his face, and fell to the floor with little noise.

“Shut up!" She screeched, leaving the comfort of the silks to attack him personally. It was quite the scene, the naked woman scratching, clawing, kicking, biting, and screaming at the courier. What was she to him? Just a piece of meat that he would enjoy for now, and then toss the scraps aside when he found something better? Luckily for Gaves, it wasn't his first time being assaulted. Turning his shoulder into the blows, he covers his face with the other hand, and lifts a leg up to protect his valuables. The flailing seemed endless, Zerella not satisfied when blood was drawn; she didn't even care after scoring a hit on his jaw. Finally, after minutes of the abuse, Zerella slowed, fatigue eating at her. Wobbling, she looked as if she was going to fall. Moving quickly, Gaves grabbed at her arm, but she only swatted at it. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screamed. Gaves core grew cold, praying that she wasn't going to lie about what he done. Men's lives were ruined when lies went rampant with misinformation, and Gaves knew that very well. "Gaves Hillvack you are scum!!" The words hurt for Gaves, his pride scratched. "Hey, I'm not s-" Zerella pushed him aside, grabbing at her clothes tossed on the floor, and putting them on in haste. "Gaves Hillvack, no one will ever love you like I do, and if some whore decides to take pity on you know this: You will never pass on your existence with your beloved. You will be forced to live knowing you'll never pass on a legacy, and you will die with the Hillvack name." Promptly covering herself with a loose fitting dress, she picked up her shoes, and went for the door. Yanking it open, she gave him one last look, a final reminder of the sin he commited. Trembling, she began to weep before yelling one last thing. "SCOUNDREL!" Zerella slamming the door behind her as she ran down the stairs.

[V.]

V.

In the descent and gloaming of any tragic day As all days are an empty fiend that weren't When they began, yet now I cry for you The tears of vicious ecstasy by the track Field, now I make of this glint webbing            Any sitting knoll stuffed With flowers, each time an eclogue where We might stop the car at to examine Beauty; or the place with the granite bench when At night, when we held hands amongst oceanic nothings, Spoke, and were traumatized: of life in all its theatre and Crux, inviting thunder, lightninglight almost aware Of the pivoting schedule of vocal spray, like Rain burst from the rocks, of exploding vapor; Or driving in the cemetery, that deafening stop To weep for my survival of my surviving death: this Song is for the now: it invigorates the heft I daily battle            With, limned though saturninely And with a bobbing throat at that at you now, Who chuffs with winedrenched words at me Like a nice amicability, not perfection, o My darkness, but I to have interpolated spleen Like a bad rut in these traveling grains of wood: Atomic doubt, a lithic wedge between the fellows Of My Ghostly Pleiade surroundingly            Of hostile friends. That is because my recalling follows this cramped violence In being culpable if visible, this comic, giant, inflated form Of wretchedness a theft from memory the giantest spasm That is so more than wave on rock, than poetic fragrance Of buds whom lift into their person, but forget their prison.

. .  .   .    .     .      .       .        .         .seeing someone’s heart break for you in front of you

when you see it in those eyes that say how astonishingly horrible that must be!, to experience yourself in such an unnatural light: inorganic: a literal taking-on of the scope of what you originally thought mere metaphorical sense, that is, discomfort within one’s skin, having flesh be your enemy, but your flesh; but really structure imposing itself nowhere and this includes your own body, which at this point is of

  the constitution of a jelly-like material.—perspective: maybe you                       like to cry all the time because it makes you feel real the most, which is the closest you can get to joy: but all that you    say goes looking at yourself saying it, some remarks met with a poorly-concealed sniggering from someone offstage: your act is of inhabiting mostly-missed-marks, every so often an attempt at the wrong point to aim true, pointed off; and when feeling off, pointing true, but the success is too fast

to focus on, so you go and clasp your aim like you would the collar of an interrogated criminal

on his last legs, the heat verifiably ON. you, always screaming at his silence as you ask, where, where is that self in the sky and does it rhyme with idiom, does it give its notions like spare alms that nonetheless are always there: well, where’s the murder weapon?

    let you tell them, as you,   as you: you tell them, assured of it, that you are a specimen, see yourself like a test subject to be broken down to crummy crumbs of what only comes to crumble and

ruin, each piece observed, hamlet-haunted by the stir and contumely all those blessed divisive spirits get

as their just desserts. in you contort and frame as suddenly as a painting, around, around the need for unfinished business, a protextive shield of getting it done: u are a wretch to be observed, you by you or you by self, perceived a wretch. but not self by you for then you’d know all the puppet master’s wishes that might have sprouted you, bathed in the first connivance light suggests in being blinding, a growth in some kind of ludicrous environment, fresh from the petri dish a              runt, a squirt of light    ramming through to display itself: just the very jism of light,

but to hog the mountains of the rotten overlooked things and tips of trees, immediately: your head

            emits its importance, like the positive effects of an acid trip: but

does not retain much of it, or he spends his time, as I, as a fat man who eats not, for he cannot decide

from among the smoking dishes. ok, now to meshing something as the climate-proper

              for this conversation: the light is blinding: here is to begin, begin what saith one who knows his wrongness veiled all over the place about him, covering him, you, me,      in languid comments, burped from within some bulged eye’s mannerism,

strained through impassive lips, twinged: does this make you feel so-and-so: well shant I grow anymore out of the petri dish, be fertile, you know, like the shit at the bottom of an unwashed coffee container of some kind? you still to this day-adhesive remain beautifully wedded; your drops of rain unwed the glue long ago and left you two so long apart to the point of derangement, so long detached to the point of embranglement, within the studded teachingz of nevermind, fuck it, who cares, viewing all along the aping of projects with real work done to change you: but do we all just borrow shit from other people and make it a staid, chopped-heavy version in ourselves, the person we observed it in chiding us in imagining him or herself as the thing is done by us in our own heads, as if we couldn’t control it: that’s terrible, and is what she said once, to me: and, she said: don’t think in words, I really don’t        think in words: well: that’s darwinism for the aye-left obscurants and shabby evidences of the dawn of some terrible future to picket and decline a night out to picket to truly destroy: behind that most ironic of all veils, the web:       but anyway: I split into so many pieces I don’t know when a certain piece was important or not, and then,            everything is unimportant, and the WORLD a big old shadow, feasting on the peripatetic mural the sky undoes via wind: to blow away the clouds and tumble down the idiomatic self we each of us destroy to nurture, recreate to burn, find to lose: the beauty of negation’s just a spare swell thing about it, what it is: the look of eyes that give a shit: about you, not the rain: