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frizzle-mcshizzle · 2 months

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[crawling towards you, I am translucent pale and my lips are cracked. You feel pity. It’s as though I’ve crawled through the desert just to find you. I reach out]

Dex Dizznee… I need headcanons… [coUGh]… please

this literally the funniest ask ive ever gotten this was amazing to wake up to

you also have amazing timing i have been brain rotting about Stinex (or as im calling it now Copper Mares) for the past two days so hes very much on my mind rn

he's self taught ambidextrous, and intentionally uses it as a pun with his name

he has curly hair and a ton of freckles

while his dad has five older siblings he only has three cousins that are around his age on that side and his family doesn't have a good relationship with his uncle so he doesn't see two of them at all

he has been helping Kesler in Slurps and burps since he was 8, and when he was a baby the first thing that made him laugh was the burping doors

the Dizzee's and Ruewens have weekly movie nights where they will all (including the adults and bodyguards) take turns choosing the movie

he has a collection of human technology that his mom got him that he consistently uses to make better weapons or things that can help around the house

his entire family has panic-switches and he has a master panic switch ring that will let him now whos in trouble where they are located with the projectable screen

he ends up telling Rex he will be talantless after talking to his parents about it, instead of that putting strain on their relationship it made Rex and Dex closer as he did everything he could to make things that would give talentless some kind of ability

he made Livvy a light projection tool so she doesn't have to hold Candles while doing her job

Dex and Stina were friends when they where very little but when the Heks realized that distancing themselves from the Dizznee's would increase their social status they quickly cut them off

when he was growing up he only saw Edaline and Grady during their quarterly exiler refills at slurps and burps, Juline invited them over for dinner more than once but they couldn't handle being around children for that long so they never came.

after he was hit by the melder he couldn't go home for two weeks he was constantly having full body spasms and had constant migraines, the triplets where so worried about him that they took turns visiting and being unnaturally quiet so they could see him

he's terrified of fire but tries not to show it, but when she's around it he can't help but stare at it like it's going to jump out and attack him. hes afraid of Marella after she maifested but doesn't want to be because he know she's wont hurt him. but when he sees her control fire all he can think about is getting burned by brant

when they where kiddnapped he wasn't constantly sedated like Sophie was and remembers much more than she does, he remembers her screams and them forcing sedatives down her throat, he rarely talks about it because no one asks and if he mentions it in front of his parents they get these galzed over looks on their faces and Juline's hands start to ice over, so he stops because hes already put then through enough

he has nightmares that make him wake up screaming, sometimes Lovise will the only one to hear him because he stops before the rest of his family wakes up. she will sit with him and teach him calming techniques that Goblins soliders use, other times his parents would wake up and sit with him for minutes yo hours, sometimes in silence sometimes he would cry, it happens at least once a week, sometimes more.

he has a stuffed griffon Ewlin got him while he was recovering called called feathersworth, he keeps it under his pillow whenever he's sleeping and

sometimes he will stay up into the odd hours of the morning just to avoid going to sleep because he doesn't want to have nightmares, Lovise will have to physically pull him to his bedroom because hes been awake for more than 24 hours and is still fighting sleep

he missed his mom and dad more than anything while he was with the black swan desperately wanting to talk to them. when he found out that Juline was squall it took him forever to forgive her, it put a lot of strain on their relationship and while Juline did her best to make it up to him it, it was just something he had to forgive her for because nothing can make up for that.

he is one of the only people that Tinker will have actual conversations with, and he knows almost as much about her as wraith does, he likes working with her more than lady Iskra because she actually lets him use his unorthodox methods of making things instead of forcing him to make things the traditional way

his extended family has get togethers once a year, not all of Kesler's siblings attend every year but he knows his grandparents very well and spends a lot of time with them

less a headcannon but i think he should lose his arm, his names means righthanded and i think it would be funny if he just didn't have a right hand anymore also because angst

is that enough headcannons, are you alive now, this made me want to write dex's pov when he was kidnapped so...

#ask me about Keslers siblings i dare you #or about Copper mares #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #dex dizznee #kotlc dex #kotlc juline #juline dizznee #kotlc kesler #kesler dizznee #kotlc tinker #kotlc headcannon #kotlc headcanons #kotlc headcannons

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fintan-pyren · 10 months

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so y’know how the black swan have their crazy disguises?

what disguises would the main gang have (assuming most/all of them get crazy disguises in the future. possibly as adults idk)

Easy option: they all dress as their Council-assigned fursonas. the ones who aren't on Team Valiant. idk. they can choose their own fursonas.

Alternatively:

Sophie has a feathered mask, with mechanical wings fashioned by Dex, like a moonlark.

Fitz is practical. He's always in the spotlight in his regular life. He doesn't want a flashy disguise. Instead, he chooses to wear an obscurer and blend in with the crowd.

Tam cloaks his body in a thin layer of shadows.

Linh surrounds herself in mist too dense for anyone to even catch a glimpse of her features.

Biana could use her invisibility to disappear like Wraith, but she doesn't. She's tired of hiding, and she's not going to pass up the chance to design a new outfit. She's the most stylish rebel at any battle.

Wylie uses indurite powder like Tiergan. It's a far different effect, though, with light shining through the cracks in the stone casing as he uses his ability.

Dex uses his technopathy to create a set of armor. It has everything—a jetpack, a built-in melder, any new invention he thinks up.

Keefe uses elixirs. He's constantly changing his mind about how he wants to look—mustaches, muscles, short hair, long hair, anything. He's always in Dex's workshop, asking for new elixirs. Dex complains, but secretly, he doesn't mind at all.

Marella was going to cloak herself in fire, but realized that that might be...not the best way of hiding her identity. She gets Dex to create an elixir that coats her in a layer of ice like Juline. It's a rather unpleasant shock to her enemies when they find their "cryokinetic" opponent using fire powers. Fintan is proud.

#kotlc

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writingsfromstarfleet · 1 year

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Yuris - Sacrifice

"The Vulcan society has more intolerance today than there was a thousand years ago."

"The High Command recognize what you have done and therefore are suspending you."

This was the current situation your husband, Yuris, was facing. No matter what he had said, challenging the prejudice in your race and how difference is dealt with, the High Command were not listening.

Yuris had a successful career in the medical industry, providing insightful research and experiments for the betterment of Vulcan society. New knowledge had come as a direct result of some of his papers, and though he was one of the younger doctors, he was still very respected for his tenacity and willingness to do better.

That was where you had met. Your own career in medical research had taken off, and after you graduated from the Vulcan Science Academy, you found yourself working alongside Yuris in a lab, often trading facts and new findings with each other. Then, it became something you did over dinner, before you began sharing stories and personal journeys. You had grown close, very close, and soon enough, it was love.

Yuris had married you around three years ago, and in those three years he had shown you nothing but loyalty and care, always striving to be a better man and be the man he knew you deserved. Yuris valued you and loved you, as did you him, and you showed one another that love in many ways, some that denied your Vulcan blood and some that didn't. It was healthy and you were both happy.

Recently, Yuris and two other doctors who worked together had been informed that there was a Vulcan lady, T'Pol, suffering from Pa'nar Syndrome, aboard a Federation ship, Enterprise. Stigma in society was high, and upon finding out that she was inflicted with the disease, called for a meeting with her aboard the ship. Yuris was one of those doctors.

The night before they were due to have the meeting, you walked in on your husband standing on your balcony in silence.

"My love?" you questioned, and he didn't turn to you. Seating yourself at the edge of the bench, you looked at him with concern. It was rare for Vulcans to show emotion, but when it came to their loved ones, it's entirely a different story.

"I cannot bear attending this meeting tomorrow, Y/N. I cannot allow them to victimize her for something like this. I had hoped that perhaps society had grown to be more accepting by now, but I can see we still have a long way to go. I fear I may not be able to help her and I do not want to contribute to what may happen should they get their way."

"Yuris," your voice was soft as you moved closer to him. "Look at me."

Carefully, you took his face with one of your hands and cupped his cheek. Staring into his eyes, you could see the worry present in his own, but he seemed ready to listen. You took his hand with your own free one, carefully stroking the back of it with your thumb as you spoke.

"I know you, and I know that you are a remarkable man. You have always stuck to your morals and I cannot envisage you straying from them now. Should she need help, I know you will do what you know is best. I have that faith in you."

"Thank you, beloved, I just hope I can do the right thing by her."

You brought his face to yours and placed your forehead against his own, the both of you closing your eyes and savouring the silent moment together. Quietly, your voice carried through the air and sat with him all night.

"You will do what is best, Yuris.

Your husband left that day, and by the time he had gotten back, you sensed he was distraught. Bringing him inside, you seated him and took his hands. Never had you seen your husband as stressed or as sad.

"What is the matter, Yuris?"

"I tried, Y/N, I tried to help. T'Pol, the lady, I told her I too am a mind-melder and that I saw nothing wrong with the practice. She confided in me that her mind meld was not welcomed, and I urged her to tell the council, but she had refused. I gave her all the information she needed, helped her where I could, but still they threatened her with decommission. Their captain, Archer, had a meeting with us and I told them..."

"What did you tell them?" You urged him on, holding his hands tighter, having never seen him so scared before.

"I told the council I am a mind-melder. I told them T'Pol's circumstances, too. I could not help it; I could not stand by and watch her ostracized for something she could not control. She has been allowed to remain aboard Enterprise, however."

"This is good, there is nothing wrong with what you have done, Yuris."

"I have been suspended, and I believe I am no longer welcome in my research at the facility. They know now that I mind-meld, I am sorry, Y/N."

You smiled at him, your smile met with confusion. "What are you apologising for?"

"For allowing my emotions to get the better of me."

"That is not something you must apologise for, Yuris. You are carrying guilt and a burden you should not be carrying. Your actions have allowed an innocent lady to keep her job and her dignity; she can live as she has done and continue her life free of fear of judgement. What you have done is not only logical, it is also brave. Sacrificing yourself like that is the first step in showing society that prejudice holds no place in progression. We should strive to be more accepting and less judgmental, and you are that first step. You are brave, Yuris, and I am proud of you."

He smiled at you, gripping your hand a little tighter.

"But this will affect you, too. People will now look at you differently. That is not something I would want for you. You can't-"

"I care not for what people have to say about me. I will stand by you through anything, and if that means I am treated the same as they will treat you, then I am guilty by association. As long as I am with you, I care little for anything else."

"You are remarkable, Y/N, I am so lucky to have you."

You kissed your husband on the forehead, and stood with him.

"Now, let us face the council together."

Out the door you went, the same way you lived.

As one.

#star trek #star trek imagine #star trek x reader #star trek enterprise #enterprise #star trek ent #ent #yuris #yuris x reader #yuris imagine #x reader #imagine

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nsomniacsdream · 9 days

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Man, this Enterprise episode is about the aids epidemic (in the mid-2000s?) and it's not at all subtle.

Tpol has a disease you can only get from mind melds, so the vulcan health authority is like "nah, son, go to jail. I don't care how you got it, mind melders engage in 'intimate acts' that we don't agree with, so no healthcare for you"

but the twist at the end is, she was the equivalent of raped, so it's not her fault!

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worldsunlikemyown · 8 months

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Neverseen Extravaganza — Revenge: Make Them All Pay

Written for the @neverseen-extravaganza event!

Day 10: Revenge

Character(s): Ruy Ignis

Words: 288

Do you know how hard it is to live as a hunted child?

You have no home, no steady source of food or water, no money, no one to turn to for comfort. There’s only your abilities and skills to rely on, and if you don’t have those, well. Too bad.

I at least had my shield. Really, it was the only thing that kept me alive for so long.

It was a horrible life. A life I’d been sentenced to for my ‘crimes’. For stealing food when my parents had blown what was my money, my birth fund, on a vanity project that never actually worked. For daring to spit in the Councillors’ faces and tell them they were wrong. For telling the Mentors I’d had during my short time at Foxfire that their education was worthless. For taking a melder without permission because I feared I’d be thrown out of the small house I’d managed to camp out in and needed to defend myself. Not that the exile’s way of life was any better. But that’s neither here nor there.

The day I met Alvar, I made up my mind. He came with a golden-haired elf whose name I might have recognised from history books if I’d been able to access them. They sat with me, both of them, and told me that I could change things. That I could make them all pay. That I should make them all pay.

I did make them pay, eventually. That day in Atlantis, the same elves (well, not the same, but it was all I could get) that I’d been scorned by, that had condemned me to a life of danger, choked on the water of their perfect, safe, brilliant city.

And that revenge? I needed it. And it felt good.

Art for yesterday's prompt:

#kotlc #kotlc ruy #ruy ignis #kotlc neverseen #neverseen extravaganza

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synergies-castings · 2 months

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#alloywheelmanufacturersinindia #precisionalloycarwheelmanufacturer #worldclassalloywheels #chromewheels #specialalloywheelsforevs #synergies #synergiescastings

T. R. Krishna Mohan, General Manager - Technical

[email protected]

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uss-exile-ncc-440548 · 1 year

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I'm actually really curious about that... Soval's emotional control doesn't seem to be very good even before Shran gets a hold of him, which makes it fascinating that he doesn't break. In general, he cracks easily and frequently and Max spends a good deal of his time coming to Soval's rescue. He watches him closely and the second Soval starts showing any sign of distress Max pops in to save his face. It seems to be more than just a matter of respect and friendship, Max seems to be very aware of this problem and actively takes steps to help and prevent Soval from falling apart in public. The times Max isn't around Soval is, sometimes openly, reduced to a complete mess for a Vulcan.

I wonder if this is A, part of the whole "We were going to make T'Pol's father Romulan" conversation mentioned in the memory pages combined with Gary's own headcanon, or B, if something happened to Soval and this is part of the reason he lives with humans, not just that he's fond of them, not just that he is a mind melder, but his control is skewed and it puts him at even further risk... Or C, both? He lives under a lot of stress, this is true, but so do a lot of other Vulcans, especially hidden melders... Next to them, Soval seems to hang from a thread. It's really sad...

#commander's log #star trek #star trek ent #star trek enterprise #ambassador soval #soval #admiral forrest #maxwell forrest #Someone get this man a blanket.

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soulerflaire · 9 months

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Enterprise, Season 2, Episode 14. I have got some opinions about this episode. Be warned it's a heavy topic, related to AIDS, homophobia, and rape.

So first off, the entire premise is a complete retcon of Vulcans. Mind melds were never without risk, but they were something any Vulcan could do with proper training. Now suddenly only a small segment of the population has the ability. And now suddenly mind melds are forbidden, taboo, and can spread a disease; in fact this is the only way the disease can be spread.

To add on to that, Vulcans are now extremely prejudiced against people who can perform mind melds (melders) and prejudiced against anyone who contracts the disease, as it means they have experienced a mind meld at least once. And this prejudice causes the Vulcans to let the disease run rampant; they refuse to research a cure for their own people.

You are probably starting to see the parallels. Melders are meant to represent homosexual people, mind melds are gay sex, and this disease is meant to represent AIDS. But this metaphor has some very unpleasant sticking points.

First is the way T'Pol contracted the disease: she was forced into a mind meld. Following the metaphor, that means she was raped by a homosexual person. In fact, our only experience with melders in the show is the small group that included the man who forced the mind meld on her, and the one doctor who is pretending to not be a melder in this episode. Not great.

Second is the way the disease spreads. Only melders can spread the disease. This breaks the metaphor. AIDS is a disease that affects everyone equally, is spread through bodily fluids regardless of whether the people are homosexual or not (and honestly regardless of whether they are even having sex, but we'll get to that), that was unjustly attributed to a vulnerable population. But in this episode, the disease only affects people who have mind melds, which means it can only be spread by melders. The disease is attributed to them because they're the only ones who can spread it. It's been said many times, I've even said it in regards to racism storylines, but I'm gonna say it again: If you create a reason to justify the oppression of the oppressed group, you completely undercut the entire point of the metaphor.

Third, the way the disease spreads messes things up too. AIDS was spread not just through sex, but through other contact with bodily fluids like blood. That means it could spread by accident, no matter how careful a victim of the disease was. But in the show, since the disease only spreads through mind melds, all that has to be done is to stop engaging in mind melds until the disease dies out or a cure is found. Which again puts the blame for the disease spreading on the melders. See above bold and italicized note.

Frankly, this episode did nothing to generate sympathy for melders. It was mostly focused on generating sympathy for T'Pol, while blaming everything on melders. It's a shitty metaphor, and I feel like it's a strong sign of homophobia in the writers. Or just Rick Berman, apparently he's pretty homophobic.

On top of all this, Archer is such a complete asshole about everything. He's loud, rude, demands to know very private, personal information about T'Pol, gets angry when anyone implies that maybe she deserves some privacy, and angrily demands T'Pol publicly testify about the forced mind meld.

Jonathan Archer is now my least favorite captain, and yes, I am including Gabriel Lorca in that list.

#Enterprise commentary #S2 E14 Stigma #tw rape #tw AIDS

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weeping-gospels · 1 year

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So there existed yet another vermin tamer — but a human?

Bethanne had recently met all sorts of strange mortals lately. Mortals with strong magic capabilities that had been watered down into their own version of “magic”, harnessing such puissant skills that it baffled her. Even as a human herself once upon a time she had never mastered any of her academia to the point where she would invent insane tactics through means of science — but these humans managed it through blood and sweat.

A druid, bard, or warlock held the power to hypnotize, charm, infect. Plague harnessers, mind melders, succubus’. Even if human, these classes would still rely on magic. But these strange individuals…had auras completely devoid of magic and still accomplished similar feats.

Despite her distinct distaste for humanity, these bunch were possible exceptions. It was admirable how dedicated they were to their craft — villain or not.

—

“ Vermin tamer, “

The Dhampir began, strolling up to him with a slightly squirming bundle in her arms. Whatever it was, it was wrapped securely in a tattered, old blanket.

“ That is what you are, nyet? I am also a vermin tamer.

I would like to conduct an experiment with you. With this. “

She gestures to the bundle in her arms.

We’ll see how well he is with rats.

@ratwhsprs

#character: bethanne drozdov 🦇#ratwhsprs #EYE EMOJIS

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vethbrenatto · 1 year

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#critical role #bells hells #fcg #imogen temult #mind melders #creations #c3e48

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sparring-spirals · 1 year

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F.C.G proposing he go in and blow themself up to take out the enemy and everyones immediate shock followed by Imogen going "and then lose yourself?" before immediately proposing a different plan without even dignifiying that suggestion with a response only for Ashton to go "no hold on Im acknowledging it just enough to give it a Hard Fucking No" before asking Imogen to keep going.

#i love the way this party likes each other but also sometimes very distinctly wants tk throttle each other. yeah. nice.#critical role #c3e49 #scene #fcg #ashton #imogen temult #mind melders #punk rock and metal #shitpost #cr liveblogging

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p-isforpoetry · 1 year

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youtube

Tam O'Shanter by Robert Burns (read by James Cosmo)

When chapmen billies leave the street, And drouthy neibors, neibors meet, As market days are wearing late, An' folk begin to tak the gate; While we sit bousing at the nappy, And getting fou and unco happy, We think na on the lang Scots miles, The mosses, waters, slaps, and styles, That lie between us and our hame, Where sits our sulky sullen dame. Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter, As he frae Ayr ae night did canter, (Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses For honest men and bonie lasses.)

O Tam! had'st thou but been sae wise, As ta'en thy ain wife Kate's advice! She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum, A blethering, blustering, drunken blellum; That frae November till October, Ae market-day thou was nae sober; That ilka melder, wi' the miller, Thou sat as lang as thou had siller; That every naig was ca'd a shoe on, The smith and thee gat roaring fou on; That at the Lord's house, even on Sunday, Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Monday. She prophesied that late or soon, Thou would be found deep drown'd in Doon; Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk, By Alloway's auld haunted kirk.

Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet, To think how mony counsels sweet, How mony lengthen'd, sage advices, The husband frae the wife despises!

But to our tale:-- Ae market-night, Tam had got planted unco right; Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, Wi' reaming swats, that drank divinely And at his elbow, Souter Johnny, His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony; Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither-- They had been fou for weeks thegither! The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter And ay the ale was growing better: The landlady and Tam grew gracious, wi' favours secret,sweet and precious The Souter tauld his queerest stories; The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.

Care, mad to see a man sae happy, E'en drown'd himsel' amang the nappy! As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure: Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious. O'er a' the ills o' life victorious!

But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white--then melts for ever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm.-- Nae man can tether time or tide; The hour approaches Tam maun ride; That hour, o' night's black arch the key-stane, That dreary hour he mounts his beast in; And sic a night he taks the road in As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in.

The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last; The rattling showers rose on the blast; The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd Loud, deep, and lang, the thunder bellow'd: That night, a child might understand, The Deil had business on his hand.

Weel mounted on his gray mare, Meg-- A better never lifted leg-- Tam skelpit on thro' dub and mire; Despisin' wind and rain and fire. Whiles holding fast his gude blue bonnet; Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet; Whiles glowring round wi' prudent cares, Lest bogles catch him unawares: Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh, Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry.

By this time he was cross the ford, Whare, in the snaw, the chapman smoor'd; And past the birks and meikle stane, Whare drunken Chairlie brak 's neck-bane; And thro' the whins, and by the cairn, Whare hunters fand the murder'd bairn; And near the thorn, aboon the well, Whare Mungo's mither hang'd hersel'.-- Before him Doon pours all his floods; The doubling storm roars thro' the woods; The lightnings flash from pole to pole; Near and more near the thunders roll: When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees, Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze; Thro' ilka bore the beams were glancing; And loud resounded mirth and dancing.

Inspiring bold John Barleycorn! What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' tippeny, we fear nae evil; Wi' usquabae, we'll face the devil!-- The swats sae ream'd in Tammie's noddle, Fair play, he car'd na deils a boddle. But Maggie stood, right sair astonish'd, Till, by the heel and hand admonish'd, She ventured forward on the light; And, vow! Tam saw an unco sight

Warlocks and witches in a dance; Nae cotillion brent-new frae France, But hornpipes, jigs strathspeys, and reels, Put life and mettle in their heels. A winnock-bunker in the east, There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast; A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, To gie them music was his charge: He scre'd the pipes and gart them skirl, Till roof and rafters a' did dirl.-- Coffins stood round, like open presses, That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses; And by some develish cantraip slight, Each in its cauld hand held a light.-- By which heroic Tam was able To note upon the haly table, A murders's banes in gibbet-airns; Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd bairns; A thief, new-cutted frae a rape, Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape; Five tomahawks, wi blude red-rusted; Five scymitars, wi' murder crusted; A garter, which a babe had strangled; A knife, a father's throat had mangled, Whom his ain son o' life bereft, The gray hairs yet stack to the heft; Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu', Which even to name was be unlawfu'. Three lawyers' tongues, turn'd inside out, Wi' lies seam'd like a beggar's clout; Three priests' hearts, rotten, black as muck, Lay stinking, vile in every neuk.

As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious; The piper loud and louder blew; The dancers quick and quicker flew; They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit, Till ilka carlin swat and reekit, And coost her duddies to the wark, And linket at it in her sark!

Now Tam, O Tam! had thae been queans, A' plump and strapping in their teens, Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flannen, Been snaw-white seventeen hunder linnen! Thir breeks o' mine, my only pair, That ance were plush, o' gude blue hair, I wad hae gi'en them off my hurdies, For ae blink o' the bonie burdies!

But wither'd beldams, auld and droll, Rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal, Louping and flinging on a crummock, I wonder did na turn thy stomach!

But Tam kend what was what fu' brawlie: There was ae winsome wench and waulie, That night enlisted in the core, Lang after ken'd on Carrick shore; (For mony a beast to dead she shot, And perish'd mony a bonie boat, And shook baith meikle corn and bear, And kept the country-side in fear.) Her cutty-sark, o' Paisley harn That while a lassie she had worn, In longitude tho' sorely scanty, It was her best, and she was vauntie,- Ah! little ken'd thy reverend grannie, That sark she coft for her wee Nannie, Wi' twa pund Scots, ('twas a' her riches), Wad ever grac'd a dance of witches!

But here my Muse her wing maun cour; Sic flights are far beyond her pow'r; To sing how Nannie lap and flang, (A souple jade she was, and strang), And how Tam stood, like ane bewitch'd, And thought his very een enrich'd; Even Satan glowr'd, and fidg'd fu' fain, And hotch'd and blew wi' might and main; Till first ae caper, syne anither, Tam tint his reason a' thegither, And roars out, "Weel done, Cutty-sark!" And in an instant all was dark: And scarcely had he Maggie rallied, When out the hellish legion sallied.

As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, When plundering herds assail their byke; As open pussie's mortal foes, When, pop! she starts before their nose; As eager runs the market-crowd, When "Catch the thief!" resounds aloud; So Maggie runs, the witches follow, Wi' mony an eldritch skriech and hollo.

Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou'll get thy fairin'! In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin'! In vain thy Kate awaits thy commin'! Kate soon will be a woefu' woman! Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, And win the key-stane o' the brig; There at them thou thy tail may toss, A running stream they dare na cross. But ere the key-stane she could make, The fient a tail she had to shake! For Nannie, far before the rest, Hard upon noble Maggie prest, And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle; But little wist she Maggie's mettle - Ae spring brought off her master hale, But left behind her ain gray tail; The carlin claught her by the rump, And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.

No, wha this tale o' truth shall read, Ilk man and mother's son take heed; Whene'er to drink you are inclin'd, Or cutty-sarks run in your mind, Think! ye may buy joys o'er dear - Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare.

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Tam o' Shanter (Translation)

When the peddler people leave the streets, And thirsty neighbours, neighbours meet; As market days are wearing late, And folk begin to take the road home, While we sit boozing strong ale, And getting drunk and very happy, We don’t think of the long Scots miles, The marshes, waters, steps and stiles, That lie between us and our home, Where sits our sulky, sullen dame (wife), Gathering her brows like a gathering storm, Nursing her wrath, to keep it warm.

This truth finds honest Tam o' Shanter, As he from Ayr one night did canter; Old Ayr, which never a town surpasses, For honest men and bonny lasses.

Oh Tam, had you but been so wise, As to have taken your own wife Kate’s advice! She told you well you were a waster, A rambling, blustering, drunken boaster, That from November until October, Each market day you were not sober; During each milling period with the miller, You sat as long as you had money, For every horse he put a shoe on, The blacksmith and you got roaring drunk on; That at the Lords House, even on Sunday, You drank with Kirkton Jean till Monday. She prophesied, that, late or soon, You would be found deep drowned in Doon, Or caught by warlocks in the murk, By Alloway’s old haunted church.

Ah, gentle ladies, it makes me cry, To think how many counsels sweet, How much long and wise advice The husband from the wife despises!

But to our tale :- One market night, Tam was seated just right, Next to a fireplace, blazing finely, With creamy ales, that drank divinely; And at his elbow, Cobbler Johnny, His ancient, trusted, thirsty crony; Tom loved him like a very brother, They had been drunk for weeks together. The night drove on with songs and clatter, And every ale was tasting better; The landlady and Tam grew gracious, With secret favours, sweet and precious; The cobbler told his queerest stories; The landlord’s laugh was ready chorus: Outside, the storm might roar and rustle, Tam did not mind the storm a whistle.

Care, mad to see a man so happy, Even drowned himself in ale. As bees fly home with loads of treasure, The minutes winged their way with pleasure: Kings may be blessed, but Tam was glorious, Over all the ills of life victorious.

But pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow fall on the river, A moment white - then melts forever, Or like the Aurora Borealis rays, That move before you can point to their place; Or like the rainbow’s lovely form, Vanishing amid the storm. No man can tether time or tide, The hour approaches Tom must ride: That hour, of night’s black arch - the key-stone, That dreary hour he mounts his beast in And such a night he takes to the road in As never a poor sinner had been out in.

The wind blew as if it had blown its last; The rattling showers rose on the blast; The speedy gleams the darkness swallowed, Loud, deep and long the thunder bellowed: That night, a child might understand, The Devil had business on his hand.

Well mounted on his grey mare, Meg. A better never lifted leg, Tom, raced on through mud and mire, Despising wind and rain and fire; Whilst holding fast his good blue bonnet, While crooning over some old Scots sonnet, Whilst glowering round with prudent care, Lest ghosts catch him unaware: Alloway’s Church was drawing near, Where ghosts and owls nightly cry.

By this time he was across the ford, Where in the snow the pedlar got smothered; And past the birch trees and the huge stone, Where drunken Charlie broke his neck bone; And through the thorns, and past the monument, Where hunters found the murdered child; And near the thorn, above the well, Where Mungo’s mother hanged herself. Before him the river Doon pours all his floods; The doubling storm roars throught the woods; The lightnings flashes from pole to pole; Nearer and more near the thunder rolls; When, glimmering through the groaning trees, Alloway’s Church seemed in a blaze, Through every gap , light beams were glancing, And loud resounded mirth and dancing.

Inspiring, bold John Barleycorn! (whisky) What dangers you can make us scorn! With ale, we fear no evil; With whisky, we’ll face the Devil! The ales so swam in Tam’s head, Fair play, he didn’t care a farthing for devils. But Maggie stood, right sore astonished, Till, by the heel and hand admonished, She ventured forward on the light; And, vow! Tom saw an incredible sight!

Warlocks and witches in a dance: No cotillion, brand new from France, But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels, Put life and mettle in their heels. In a window alcove in the east, There sat Old Nick, in shape of beast; A shaggy dog, black, grim, and large, To give them music was his charge: He screwed the pipes and made them squeal, Till roof and rafters all did ring. Coffins stood round, like open presses, That showed the dead in their last dresses; And, by some devilish magic sleight, Each in its cold hand held a light: By which heroic Tom was able To note upon the holy table, A murderer’s bones, in gibbet-irons; Two span-long, small, unchristened babies; A thief just cut from his hanging rope - With his last gasp his mouth did gape; Five tomahawks with blood red-rusted; Five scimitars with murder crusted; A garter with which a baby had strangled; A knife a father’s throat had mangled - Whom his own son of life bereft - The grey-hairs yet stack to the shaft; With more o' horrible and awful, Which even to name would be unlawful. Three Lawyers’ tongues, turned inside out, Sown with lies like a beggar’s cloth - Three Priests’ hearts, rotten, black as muck Lay stinking, vile, in every nook.

As Thomas glowered, amazed, and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious; The piper loud and louder blew, The dancers quick and quicker flew, They reeled, they set, they crossed, they linked, Till every witch sweated and smelled, And cast her ragged clothes to the floor, And danced deftly at it in her underskirts!

Now Tam, O Tam! had these been young girls, All plump and strapping in their teens! Their underskirts, instead of greasy flannel, Been snow-white seventeen hundred linen! - The trousers of mine, my only pair, That once were plush, of good blue hair, I would have given them off my buttocks For one blink of those pretty girls !

But withered hags, old and droll, Ugly enough to suckle a foal, Leaping and flinging on a stick, Its a wonder it didn’t turn your stomach!

But Tam knew what was what well enough: There was one winsome, jolly wench, That night enlisted in the core, Long after known on Carrick shore (For many a beast to dead she shot, And perished many a bonnie boat, And shook both much corn and barley, And kept the country-side in fear.) Her short underskirt, o’ Paisley cloth, That while a young lass she had worn, In longitude though very limited, It was her best, and she was proud. . . Ah! little knew your reverend grandmother, That underskirt she bought for her little grandaughter, With two Scots pounds (it was all her riches), Would ever graced a dance of witches!

But here my tale must stoop and bow, Such words are far beyond her power; To sing how Nannie leaped and kicked (A supple youth she was, and strong); And how Tom stood like one bewitched, And thought his very eyes enriched; Even Satan glowered, and fidgeted full of lust, And jerked and blew with might and main; Till first one caper, then another, Tom lost his reason all together, And roars out: ‘ Well done, short skirt! ’ And in an instant all was dark; And scarcely had he Maggie rallied, When out the hellish legion sallied.

As bees buzz out with angry wrath, When plundering herds assail their hive; As a wild hare’s mortal foes, When, pop! she starts running before their nose; As eager runs the market-crowd, When ‘ Catch the thief! ’ resounds aloud: So Maggie runs, the witches follow, With many an unearthly scream and holler.

Ah, Tom! Ah, Tom! You will get what's coming! In hell they will roast you like a herring! In vain your Kate awaits your coming ! Kate soon will be a woeful woman! Now, do your speedy utmost, Meg, And beat them to the key-stone of the bridge; There, you may toss your tale at them, A running stream they dare not cross! But before the key-stone she could make, She had to shake a tail at the fiend; For Nannie, far before the rest, Hard upon noble Maggie pressed, And flew at Tam with furious aim; But little knew she Maggie’s mettle! One spring brought off her master whole, But left behind her own grey tail: The witch caught her by the rump, And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.

Now, who this tale of truth shall read, Each man, and mother’s son, take heed: Whenever to drink you are inclined, Or short skirts run in your mind, Think! you may buy joys over dear: Remember Tam o’ Shanter’s mare.

#Tam O'Shanter #Robert Burns #poem #poetry #video #James Cosmo #Youtube

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