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#thinking about ajax feels like the sea itself.

second-second · 3 months

Text

So, upon finishing the Narzissenkreuz quest line we see this note when we return to the ordo’s headquarters:

Until this day I have not seen people giving it a trough analysis (though I have admittedly not searched specifically for it). So I want to take my shot at analyzing it.

Let’s begin with the text of the note itself. The author of the note is not stated though I think it is implied to be Narzissenkreuz, since he was the one looking for ways to “rebirth” himself as a descender or at least looking for ways to convert the people from Fontaine into abyssal creatures (like Jakob).

The first paragraph reads to me as a sort of mystic introduction to his goals. He wants to be reborn like in the legend so he began the note with the chant which preceded the ritual of rebirth. In this context I think it is safe to assume holy infant = descender. It was never confirmed if it is possible to actually become a descender, since as far as we know all descenders came from beyond teyvat.

He then proceeds to explain the origin of the tale, saying it was from the story of Ajax, and that it had unknown origins and came from unknown sources. More commentary on this later on. Then he emphasizes that this character was the second strongest in his alliance (which i didn't connect to anything specifc though it feels like there is some importance to this ranking).

He then recontextualizes the first affirmation with a saying originating from sumeru (closest place to Kaenri’ah which I think adds a nice touch to the interpretation, since it implies loss of meaning in translation). In sumeru the phrase “lies beneath the great sea” can be read as “primordial human”.

Let’s re read the text swapping this part with its other meaning:

“ Io Io Pan! That which primordial human! The purpose of this line in the ritual scripture is to forsake the self and sink into the abyss, and in the abyss welcome the rebirth as a holy infant.”

On the first read the impression is that the abyss exists under a great sea, and to fall onto it would make the person become holy (with no other context provided). We would imagine from the context of the quest that becoming holy means becoming a descender.

On the second reading, when we exchange the phrases, the sense of location is immediately lost, placing the abyss in more metaphorical grounds when it is mentioned on the second line. The other meaning it brings about is the sense that becoming holy, in other words, becoming a descender, means becoming a primordial human.

So to become a descender, according to the second reading, you should face hardships that make you forsake your sense of self and thus submerge yourself into the metaphorical abyss (as in like despair or whatever).

Narzissenkreus then writes:

"This, too, is my goal, for not all that comes from beyond may be as one that “descends”. That title belongs only to wills that can rival the entire world. That is what I seek, the way to become just such a will, one that can protect the world, sustain the world, destroy the world and create the world. "

Firstly - we know his goal is to become a descender, or rather, a primordial human, whose will can rival the world. To become such he should have to face the abyss (be it metaphorical or not).

Secondly - He then proceeds to list what the will of a primordial human is capable of: Protect, sustain, destroy and create. I think it is kind of funny how there are exactly four descenders in genshin and he proceeds to list four wills.

Now this is speculation but it made sense to me - The will to create must have belonged to the primordial one (who created a world for humans); The will to protect I think is related to the traveler since as we play we see him grow fond of the places and the protect them from whatever crisis they are facing; The will to sustain could be linked to the sustainer of heavenly principles (though it is not known weather she is a descender or not) or even to the third descender - it could even be said that teyvat is a samsara exactly because the one who was meant to sustain it is dead/fragmented; The will to destroy could belong to the second who came, or perhaps it can be read as the will of the abyss.

Now I can’t help but make this abt Childe (my beloved) but I find it funny that in his character voice lines he talks about conquering and destroying the world (“One day you’ll see how I conquer the world and crush the thrones of gods beneath my heel”)

This is really weird. We know Childe’s agenda is to fight against stronger and stronger enemies, he likes battles, fights and whatnot, but he never struck me as wanting to crush the thrones of god and conquer the world.

I believe this voice line is a hint about his will, I think when he fell into the abyss (which canonically changed his fate) his will was intermingled to that of the person who wished to destroy the world. For the sake of simplicity (and for my own speculation) let’s call this the will of the abyss.

For clarification, I honestly don’t have the impression Childe became a primordial human or descender, I just mean that part of that will is now inside of him and this could have been the thing that changed his fate. Which brings about an interesting idea about the possibilities of the loom of fate.

In Caribert we see Caribert after the shock of discovering he had become a hilichurl turn into the “loom of fate”, according to Clothar. This part of the quest is still a huge question mark and we probably lack information to really interpret it, but I am beginning to think that what Caribert went trough could have been precisely that process of forsaking the self and sinking into the abyss that Narzissenkreuz described as being the path to become holy.

-----

Ok, onto the next point, that is mostly just a curiosity. As said before Narzissenkreuz said that the origin and the sources of the tale of Ajax are unknown. The source is probably the unified civilization, which has many references to Greece - hence the greek name Ajax. But I find it weird that the sources - as in the people who tell the stories - are unknown as well.

In ballad if the Fjords we get a snippet of the first Ajax’s tale told by Childe’s father. So he is one of the people who can tell it - of course he is most likely not the primary source, but still he should have had contact with at least one of the unknown persons who passed it down. I find this somewhat interesting, Childe’s father came to know a tale from the unified civilization and then proceeded to name his child (or children rather, since Teucer is also a name that comes from IRL Ajax tale) after it with no apparent reason. This of course may not have any special meaning, but still, what a way to advertise to people you know this mysterious story of a part of teyvat’s past that is completely erased from the surface, my dude.

-----

As an addendum, i’d like to talk about the very first phrase of the note.

“Io, Io, Pan!”

I saw a few people talking about the greek mythical figures related, but to me it didn’t make much sense. Coincidentally I began to read Moby Dick recently and it opens with many citations about whales. And lo and behold: Charles Lamb’s “Triumph of the whale”

"Io! Paean! Io! Sing

to the funny people’s king.

Not a mightier whale than this

In the vast Atlantic there is;”

(It continues, but I don’t think it is relevant) I confess the poem was pretty hard to understand (English not being my native language was a little bit of an obstacle) but I skimmed this person’s commentary (link).

I find it interesting that according to that source this poem is an attack on a prince regent denouncing his promiscuity, mocking his physical appearance, etc. etc. I don’t think this means much, but I find it kind of funny if you put this in the context of Khaenri’ah. Kind of like the ritualistic scripture involves mocking the regents of Khaenri’ah. And if I remember correctly the ones who took over after King Irmin were the Alberichs.

Sure hope this doesn’t mean anything.

#genshin #genshin impact #theory #lore #analysis #genshin theory #narzissenkreus #childe #ajax #tartaglia #genshin impact lore #genshin analysis

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antichildeismoving · 2 years

Text

foul legacy!childe/gn!reader sfw

word count: 500+ | rating g | no content warnings apply

description: set in an AU where foul legacy doesn’t hurt Childe, but it’s hard for him to transform back and forth.

notes: definitely not my best work but i wanted to get it out of my system— i’m so weak for wholesome foul legacy content.

i dont think there’s any warnings that apply, but if you see something you’d like tagged let me know.

————————————

“Look at me.”

Childe’s voice was deeper in this form. Like this, with your face pressed to the crook of his neck, it seemed to come from everywhere all at once. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing had lulled you to the edge of sleep.

With a noise of impatience, Childe used one long talon to lift your chin and forced you to look him in the eye.

“I’m going to tell you something important. I need to know you’re listening.”

You nodded blearily. “I’m listening.”

“Someday I might be stuck in this form forever. What will you do then?”

“I guess I’ll just do what I always do,” you said, confused by his sudden seriousness. “It doesn’t make much of a difference to me whether you look like this or not.”

“That’s… not the answer I was looking for.”

Frowning, you sat back, straddling his hips. The night air stirred around you, alive with the sounds of summer.

“What’s this about?”

Childe didn’t reply, huffing out a sigh that ruffled your hair. Pressing your palms to his stomach, you watched them rise and fall in time with his breathing.

“You’re beautiful like this, you know that? No, don’t brush me off Ajax. I’m serious.”

With the tip of one finger you traced along the lines of his armored body, admiring the smooth curves. At first you’d been afraid of Childe in this form. He’d seemed distant, cold even, but when you’d shied away from his touch you realized he was still the same man inside. Even with a different face you could see you’d hurt him.

“Do you really think your family will see it that way? That my family will?” he snapped.

“Ch—“

He cut you off, claws biting into the earth as he clenched his fists. “And our children! If we can even have any. They’ll be terrified of me. They’ll think I’m a monster.”

Childe’s voice broke on the last word. Scooting forwards, you bent to press a kiss to his forehead. His breaths came fast and sharp, hot against your skin. Electro energy crackled around you, drowning out the insects’ songs and the steady lap of the sea below.

Slowly, you moved to kiss his left cheek, then his right, glad to feel him settle beneath you. The sparks dancing across his skin began to quiet. When you felt quite sure he’d calmed down enough, you pressed your lips to his.

Though he hadn’t relaxed completely, Childe accepted your kiss. It was chaste— it had to be. Foul Legacy’s jaws were almost as wide as your shoulders and there was only so far you could go with a size difference like that.

“I love you. Our children will love you. And our families… It might take a little while for them to adjust, but I’m sure they’ll see that you’re the same inside.”

He didn’t respond, and for a moment you worried he hadn’t heard you. Finally the tension left his body, and he reached up to stroke your hair with the curve of his claw.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

And just like that, Foul Legacy flickered and began to fold in on itself. With a yelp of surprise you lost your balance and collapsed on top of him.

Ajax was himself again: soft, warm, and human. He wrapped his arms around you, laughing as you tried to regain your composure. It was only when you kissed him that you felt the tears on his cheeks.

#wip #self insert #childe genshin impact #childe/reader #genshin impact #sfw #childe x reader #foul legacy #foul legacy/reader #foul legacy x reader #gn reader

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 3 years

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Signed, Childe

Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Angst Warnings: Blood, minor injuries, painful memories, disassociation Idea and inspiration from @kirby-dalziel

~ * ~

You weren’t home that day. Errands had piled up, alongside your regular work. Technically it was one of your days off, but life went seemingly faster and faster in the past weeks. You had left Childe with a smile and a promise, a promise to be back later tonight with food and shopping. And he, so happy and thankful for all you’ve done, had nodded and purred as you went. And so he was alone, in your silent, empty house. He found ways to entertain himself- whether it be poking around curiously or sleeping the hours away. Most rooms were spacious, plenty large enough for him to nap comfortably, but your belongings also drew his attention and held it fast. Childe pokes his head into another room, one he hadn’t been in before. It had been a few months since you took him in, but he preferred to follow you when he could and leave the exploring to days you left the house. Shelves line the walls, packed to the brim with books of all sort, only breaking in line for a mirror propped up in a corner- a mirror that you had received as a gift and reluctantly hauled back home, with much muttering and questioning as to where you would put it. Evidently, you had shoved it in here and forgotten about it. Childe gingerly slips himself into the room, the carpet soft on his feet as his gaze traces the room, from the ceiling back down to the fluffy flooring. There was an open book laying there, perhaps in the middle of being repaired. Several pictures are pasted inside- a photo album, made possible by the kamera device recently brought from Fontaine. One lonely picture lays outside the book, waiting to be sealed within the pages. Childe, ever curious, gently picks up the delicate photograph, and blinks. It’s you. You and a man, smiling and laughing as he ruffles your hair. You look happy, joyful even as you pull on the man’s scarf as revenge. The picture is crisp and new, with only a few bends in the corners, yet you look years younger without the unseen weight you carry on your shoulders. Childe tilts his head, confused. It’s you, but who is he? The man is tall and dressed in clothes of red and gray, with a spot of bright blue that signifies a Hydro Vision. His fluffy ginger hair sticks up in all directions, accented by a barely noticeable streak of white. He looks so familiar, yet Childe has never seen him in the city before. Something presses at the back of Childe’s mind, but vanishes as soon as he tries to grasp it. Confusion steadily mounting, he flips the photo over and is met with a messy, cheerful scrawl. It’s addressed to you, cheekily giving you the picture as a gift and promising to get food once he sees you again. Signed, Childe. Childe? But the man isn’t Childe, he is Childe! That’s what you call him, apart from affectionate nicknames- Childe. Although you both knew he had three names- Childe, Tartaglia, and Ajax- and good things come in groups of three, you always tell him. But the more he looks at the photograph, the more he doubts. The man’s hair, it reminds Childe of his own. And the scarf resembles the one he wears, only smaller. He was cheeky once, he thinks, just as the man smiles and writes his note to you. The photo album has more, more pictures of you, surrounded by friends. And the mysterious, oh-so-familiar man, giving a closed eyed smile as Childe flips the pages. The book falls open to a photo, one with you accompanied by the man and his eyes open, as blue as the deepest sea. But lacking of any light. Childe’s hand pauses and hovers over the photograph. Lightless eyes, ocean blue… like the Abyss and its false starlight… Those are his eyes. Or they used to be, at least, he’s sure of it. He remembers laughing with you and teasing you, and how you first ignored it in favor of work but slowly warmed up to him and became a dear friend. More memories start to trickle in like sand, and he remembers. He remembers being human. He remembers the Fatui, the missions and bloodshed. He remembers the unlikely companions he made, and how he had to betray them. And as he remembers, he questions. Three names he was given, three names he has, different but all unmistakably him. Childe, the Fatui member. Tartaglia, the Harbinger. Ajax, the older brother. He had so many names. Had. But now, now. He was none of them, not even human. Who was he, the version of the man that had been corrupted by the Abyss and crawled out to trouble you? He had seen how problems weighed on you, how your happy, carefree smiles had become expressions of worry and concern. You fell asleep quickly, if only for the exhaustion you constantly felt. A teardrop falls on the photo in his trembling hands as the answer clears. He was a monster. A creature crafted from vengeful stars and darkness, like everything that came from the Abyss. A glint in the corner catches his eye, and he sees his horned, winged reflection in the mirror. With a desperate swipe of his claws it shatters, and he hisses in pain as glass embeds itself into his palms, leaking a dark, sticky liquid. His blood wasn’t even red anymore. The broken shards of mirror cast dancing light across the room, mocking him as his facade was reflected back again, only multiple times. The photo falls from his grasp as the glass crumbles more and more beneath him, settling as sharp bits of glittering dust. And he presses himself into the corner, head buried in his knees to muffle his sobs. Distorted, garbled sobs. The voice of a monster, someone who was not Childe, Tartaglia, or Ajax, but just a horrible legacy, corrupted and fouled by the Abyssal waves. The cuts on his hands sting but he simply curls them tighter, feeling the blood drip onto the stardust-covered carpet below. And the dim light of the room, interspersed by tiny pinpricks of light, also feels horribly familiar. The picture is long forgotten, a snapshot of time that he wishes so deeply that he could return to. An Abyss of his own making surrounds everything, and in the darkness, a monster cries.

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

Text

forever, forgotten

prompt: The two of you realize that you don’t work as well as you originally think. characters: zhongli/gn!reader, diluc/gn!reader, childe/gn!reader word count: 2.2k warnings: brief injury description, putting in stitches is described, emotional cheating (but not physical or overt), pain and angst a/n: rev up those fryers, because i am sure hungry for some angst! i love pain. i really do. it’s where i feel my writing thrives. but i apologize for making reader an ass in some of these. oops. it’s only human nature :) no beta reader btw, pls send in an ask if you see any errors so i can fix them!

CHILDE/TARTAGLIA

childe has always been one to thrive in the heat of battle, while you’ve been one to thrive literally anywhere else than a fight.

your relationship is kept on the downlow, both because you don’t want the attention of dating a fatui harbinger and childe doesn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire of any battles of his.

why date a man if you can’t be involved in what he loves the most?

he arrives at your doorstep, a sheepish, tired smile on his face, one hand clutching his opposite arm, trying to tamp the blood that seeps into the grey fabric of his clothing.

you meet his gaze with an equally tired one. the sun has yet to rise and you are no longer surprised by your lover’s impromptu visits at your doorstep, nor his condition.

he only shows up when he needs something, after all.

you usher him in without a word and he sits at your dining table, quiet as you stitch up his wounds.

you’re not a nurse. you shouldn’t be so good at piercing a needle through someone’s skin. the thought of it unsettles you a bit, but you withhold these thoughts from the harbinger before you, who always desires to run a sharp blade of water through the necks of his enemies.

the silence between the two of you isn’t tense. rather, the air is dull and laced with fatigue. you know the man before you will fall asleep wordlessly on your couch soon before you navigate to your bedroom and slump over on your mattress. you’ll leave for work in the morning, leaving him to dream away on the couch. by the time you arrive home, he’ll be gone without a trace, except for the stack of mora he leaves on your kitchen table.

your relationship is no more than transactional at this point, but at least those who are paid for the night feel the warm touch of another.

however, tartaglia throws a wrench in your typical night plans. he decides to speak.

“there’s a new guy where you work,” he speaks, lifting his eyes from the needle in your hands to meet yours. “you get along well.” the words of the harbinger are embittered, laced with a childish petulance. but rather than assuage his fears, you furrow your brows and lift the needle up, before puncturing the skin with it once more.

“you sent people to watch me,” you scoff. it doesn’t exit your lips as a question, but rather a statement of ire. childe huffs in response.

“do you wish for me to leave you unguarded?” he says, irritation lacing his tone. nonetheless, he shakes his head slightly, ruffling his brunette hair. “whatever. Coworker.”

“what about him?” you respond, finishing his stitches and scooting your chair backwards to give him space. you finally make eye contact and realize that within his azure eyes, jealousy lies. “he’s a coworker.”

exhaustion is getting to the both of you. childe takes note of your dull-eyed look, a far cry from how you once looked at him. your lips rest in a slight frown and dark circles rest underneath your eyes. you look absolutely exhausted. nonetheless, he pushes onward.

“you two spend quite a bit of time together,” tartaglia remarks.

“if you have someone following me around all the time, then you know i’m not cheating,” you respond, folding your arms and narrowing your eyes at him.

“i know. but maybe it would be easier if you did,” his words soften and reveal a subtle pain behind what he’s saying, but in your fatigued state, the meaning is unclear.

“what the hell does that even mean?” you ask, forcing your voice to stay level. you’re tired, which means you’re more likely to be irritated, but you stay steady. whoever raises their voice first loses the argument, in your eyes.

“maybe it would be better if you were with someone you still loved,” childe finally confesses, yet another layer of defensiveness stripped from his voice, revealing his nerves. you glance up from where you had absentmindedly fixated your gaze on your thighs -- when had you done that? -- and look into his eyes to see the flames of jealousy being overwhelmed with an ocean of sadness. the harbinger had always loved the sea.

“don’t say that,” you murmur. “don’t do this to yourself, tartaglia.”

“ajax,” he whispers, correcting you. you know if he speaks louder, the ocean within his eyes will seep out. “and if you feel that way, then say it.”

“say what?” you ask, rubbing a hand across your eyes.

“say you love me,” ajax whispers. his face is flushed red as he struggles to contain the melancholy emotions he’s tried so hard to lock away.

you go quiet. at one point, you would have screamed the words from the top of the highest liyuean mountains, but now, a lump in your throat prevents them from exiting your mouth to reassure your lover, if you’re even allowed to call him that.

a bitter smile spreads across his face, his eyes growing red. “thank you,” he says, his tone saturated with emotional agony.

you watch him leave. your past screams at you to reach out to him, to beg him to stay, but you watch him collect his things and exit your house silently. as tartaglia closes your front door softly behind him, not bothering to look back at you, you let out a shaky sigh and curl up on your couch.

your head finds itself upon the throw pillow that his blood had leaked onto, but you’re too tired to care. instead, you lie on your side, wondering about what could’ve been before falling into a dreamless sleep.

DILUC

you’re a people person while he’s a lone wolf, a commoner while he was always destined to be a societal elite. in comparison with the man significant enough to receive a gift from the gods, you are nothing.

but he always made you feel differently. he would hold you close on winter nights, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fell asleep to his heartbeat. but that’s all they were -- nothings.

you saw how he looked at her -- a liyuean diplomat. you had asked him about her before.

“she’s just someone from the past,” diluc had stated, not making eye contact and brushing away your words, an uncharacteristic move for the man who would once recite ballads of your beauty whenever you had expressed an insecurity. “nobody to worry about.” he

but as they leaned in close to each other, whispering to each other as diluc tended the bar, her resting her elbows on the counter, you realized that their relationship had never been platonic and you were a fool to believe they didn’t have a history together.

you stayed positive until the calvary captain noticed your sad looks towards the bar. he simply murmured a few words to you that would confirm your fears.

you didn’t want to play if you were always going to be second place to a woman who showed up every blue moon.

maybe that’s her appeal, you thought to yourself. she’s here infrequently enough that he’s smitten with her. she leaves before she can become mundane, exits the scene before his memories of her can sour.

but the days roll by and you find yourself becoming more and more embittered. diluc stays out late, saying work is keeping him. kaeya tells you otherwise. for a man who has no reason to be involved, you owe your dignity to kaeya for intervening and telling you the truth.

but diluc doesn’t cheat. he just smiles at her. they’re friends, that’s all. but jealousy is the devil’s mistress and you lay in bed with her in your heart as she pries her fingers into your love and rips it apart at the seams.

the liyuean woman leaves. upon her departure, your love for the red-haired man exits the stage as well, leaving behind a neglected husk of a relationship.

diluc smiles at you, none the wiser, approaching you after you finish your shift one evening. this is the first time you’ve spoken in three weeks and he doesn’t even seem to notice.

upon seeing his lips curl upwards at your appearance, the fragments of your heart shatter into dust, for you realize that the way he looked at the liyuean diplomat will never compare to the look he gives you.

he invites you over to his place, saying he misses your company. what is there to miss? you’ve been here all along, watching, waiting, agonizing over him, and yet he acts like he wasn’t the one that caused the two of you to be apart.

“i don’t think it’s the best idea for us to keep being together in such a manner,” you respond as you grab your bag, not making eye contact. “we wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

diluc watches you leave, stunned by your response. “wait,” he calls out to you, making you turn around. “did i do something wrong?”

“no,” you lie, plastering a fake, soft smile on your face. “i just think i did. it’s nothing you did, i just… don’t think i can keep doing a relationship right now.”

“you’re breaking up with me?” diluc asks, dumbfounded. “here? Now?”

“yes,” you respond, praying your voice doesn’t crack and revealing your sadness. “i’ve found someone else to put first.” myself, you think. you watch as diluc attempts a stoic expression, but you can see the sadness in his eyes.

as the winds of mondstadt swirl around the two of you, blowing the dusty ashes of your heart that had been burnt away by the redhead with the pyro vision into uncharted territories, you can only manage a weak, apologetic smile at seeing him go through the grief you had gone through only a week prior, when you had finally determined that you needed to break up with him.

“i’ll see you around,” you say, before brushing past him and heading home, for once, alone.

ZHONGLI

the two of you sip your tea quietly as zhongli relishes in your company, pleased to see you after you had returned from an adventuring commission.

“i’m glad you returned to liyue harbor safely,” zhongli confesses. his words, much like his actions, are predictable.

you love zhongli, you really do, but after spending two years with him as his lover, you realize that maybe he’s not the one for you.

the geo archon is reliable, loyal, and honest. he’s considerate and kind. you had no reason not to take him as a lover -- he’s the perfect gentleman with a well-paying job. staying with him would provide love and stability.

but, you realized you made a mistake not long after accepting his romantic confession. zhongli was lovely, but he failed to ignite the spark in your heart that most lovers did. he was predictable, too predictable in your case. the geo archon, after millenia of war, anguish, and disconnect from the human race, decided the best life to live as a human was one of routine and peace.

you envied him. you truly did. his happiness was rooted in the status quo, the idea of nothing in his simple life changing. you longed for adventure, for excitement, never having been one to stay in a place for too long.

just as you knew when it was time to move cities, you knew it was time to move on past this relationship in your heart. your love for zhongli had fallen platonic. you were only clinging onto the familiarity zhongli provided as he had not given you a reason to leave.

but maybe zhongli himself was your reason to leave. after all of his service to liyue, he deserves someone who loves him with his whole heart. despite your consistent completion of adventurer’s guild duties, this is one commission that you cannot complete. no matter how hard you wish to, you cannot bring yourself to love the geo archon with your whole heart.

therefore, you realize, you must let him go.

you’re a coward, though. a person who can slay a stonehide lawachurl alone, who has countless battle scars from the most fearsome of challenges, is unable to look their lover in his patient amber eyes and tell them how they feel, for they do not wish to acknowledge the pain they will bring to their gentle lover who would, truly, move mountains for them.

so you write a letter while he’s at work, detailing your sorrows and how you wish for him to find happiness. you’re a coward, you scream at yourself as tears roll down your face, staining the parchment your pen shakily moves across. he deserves better.

he deserves better, which is why you leave the letter in an envelope for him on the table, the ring that normally rests on your left hand on top of it. by the time he reads it, you’ll be on a boat to inazuma, free from the consequences of your heartbreak and your actions.

you never quite forgive yourself for leaving the geo archon behind.

#zhongli's section is the shortest but it's my favorite #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #diluc x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #*writing #*50 follower celebration #*zhongli #*diluc #*childe #*tartaglia #*headcanons #*angst

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takamishinko · 3 years

Text

footprints and doubts

this is the longest piece we’ve written so far and it drained the living crap out of us :,D but hope u guys enjoy !

pronouns: gender neutral

warnings: nothing really other than jealousy, angst, and crying, self thought cheating

a/n: r/n is region name btw

________________________________________________________________

honestly you found it hard to believe that little ol’ you from r/n could befriend let alone become someone important to ajax. the great tartaglia, 11th of the fatui harbingers, his name itself could strike fear into anyone. yet here you were, standing next to him with your hands intertwined with his at the lantern rite festival. you would give the world to him if you could, you loved him so much. he was so different from your last significant other who had been unfaithful towards you.

‘you’re just too boring.’ they had told you apathetically. you frown thinking about it.

you felt ajax gave your hand a small tug, "hey y/n why don't we go over there? looks like chef mao is cooking up something good." he spoke with a cheery grin on his face.

you snap back into reality as you felt his hand pull you out of your thoughts. you gave him a terse nod and the two of you made your way to wanmin restaurant.

after waiting a while in line, the two of you were next. chef mao looked up and practically shat himself at the sight of the male next to you.

“hello y/n! i hope you’ve been enjoying the festival, " chef mao spoke nervously, his eyes gliding to the male next to you, “y...you too sir childe.” he sputtered out. right, ajax was the one who tried to destroy liyue not too long ago after all. you shook your head, right now you were with ajax, not childe.

"woah woah woah. calm down chef, you know that’s history now. besides, i’m just here to enjoy the festival with y/n." ajax assured, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

you gave the chef a slight smile and spoke,"don’t worry chef. i’m sure he doesn’t have plans other than being with me tonight." you teased.

the chef sighed in poorly concealed relief and returned to his usual self as he took your order. ajax ordered the specialty for today, the crystal shrimp. after a small wait, the two of you waved chef mao goodbye after he gave you two your food. the warm dish let out puffs of steam and glistened under all the light of the lanterns due to it's crystal clear skin, there were 4 in total, the wrapping for each was folded into the shape of a flower. they were so pretty, you almost felt bad for eating them.

sitting down on a nearby bench, the two of you enjoyed the crystal shrimp while making small talk. the crystal shrimps were delicious themselves but it felt better to enjoy them with someone you loved.

after finishing the food, you and ajax had a great time. you guys played a few rounds of theatre mechanics, ruijin was pleased at how skilled the two of you were and rewarded both of you with hefty prizes. upon bumping into zhongli, the three of you decided to enjoy some tea with him. after bidding farewell to the funeral consultant, the two of you released some xiao lanterns and watched as they floated into the night sky.

feeling a bit tired, the two of you then decided to relax and take a walk instead of participating in games. as you and your boyfriend were strolling around the harbour, something, or someone caught his gaze. you look over to where his eyes were trailing to.

oh.

a beautiful young lady dressed in a white dress with a cecilia tucked into her golden blonde hair and a puffy companion floating by her side waved at ajax. her smile brighter than the sun and her movement as graceful as the moon. her honey glazed eyes shone with familiarity and glee at the sight of him.

of course you recognized this girl. she was none other than the otherworldly traveler, lumine. she fought alongside the liyue qixing and even the adepti to defeat the great osial. the people of liyue spoke about her often, everyone knew how she had also earned the title of honorary knight in mondstadt and defeated one of the four winds despite her young age.

you were once again brought back into reality when ajax spoke, "hey babe ill be right back okay? i wanna catch up with lumine real quick."

you felt his hand leave yours, the warmth dissipated with it. you felt an uncomfortable feeling bubble up as you watched your boyfriend run to someone else, leaving you alone by yourself to stand in the sea of lanterns and people.

it didn't feel right.

you stayed in place with a dejected look for a while waiting for ajax to return but he was taking a while so you decided to go check what was going on with him.

"-but then teucer decided to do it anyway!” you hear ajax’s boyish voice ring out with amusement.

as the blond and the redhead laughed together. you couldn't help but think about the two looked enchanting with each other.

you shook your head and decided to make your presence known. "ajax-"

ajax perked up, "oh! babe sorry to keep you waiting let me introduce you. lumine this is my partner y/n!" ajax exclaimed with a cute grin.

you gave lumine a small wave and spoke with a polite smile, "it's a pleasure to meet you lumine."

"it’s nice to meet you too y/n.” lumine replied cheerfully.

now that you’ve got a better look at the blonde, she's so much more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

her velvety blonde hair fell gracefully, her porcelain skin was practically glowing without a single visible blemish, her golden eyes shone with beauty that rivaled cor lapis. to wrap it up, her short stature was presented with grace and poise. all in all, everything about the blonde was nothing less than perfection.

everyone loved her and you could understand the reason behind it very well. gorgeous, kind, and righteous, the hero of every region everyone respected. you couldn’t help but wish you were like her instead of your boring self, without a vision, without any standing out achievements either…

you started to space out while the two started up a conversation again, thinking about the feelings you were currently having. why were you feeling like this?

"hey babe we should get going! it's getting late." the voice of your lover broke you out of your thinking.

you were overthinking a lot today huh. "oh. we probably should get going then."

"bye ajax! bye y/n! it was really nice meeting you." lumine said with a pearly smile gracing her features. she then walked off to find her floating companion who was near a food stall inhaling dish after dish of food.

wait.

ajax..? he wasn’t childe or tartaglia to her, but ajax. you didn't know how to feel upon hearing the real name of your boyfriend slip out of the blonde. you knew how secretive ajax could be when it came to his family and personal life so the fact that lumine knew his real name put a feeling of unease within you.

the way home was pretty quiet, you didn't want ajax to notice that you were feeling off. you felt so guilty for having these feelings about him and lumine but you couldn’t help it. your last relationship had practically trampled on your ability to trust others, you could never tell if someone was lying to you or being truthful. you contemplated telling him how you felt but you decided against it, you’ve never been great at expressing your feelings after all. however, after a while of him blabbing about random topics, you couldn’t curb your curiosity any longer and realized you wanted to know more about your lover's relationship between him and lumine.

after a while of peaceful silence, you let out a small breath, "hey ajax?"

“yes y/n?"

"who is lumine… to you?"

ajax perked up at the sound of the blonde's name, "lumine? she's a good friend and a formidable opponent of course. it's been a while since i’ve fought with someone who could keep up with me on the battlefield!" ajax spoke with enthusiasm.

you felt a twinge of pain shoot into your heart at the tone that your lover used when speaking about the blonde. did he speak like that when he was talking about you?

"oh… i see. she must be a very powerful person then." you replied with feigned glee.

ajax noticed that you were in low spirits, "why? is something wrong?" he questioned with slight worry.

"no! i'm alright. i was just curious because you two seemed… close." you lied. you weren't ok, but you didn't know how to tell him. probably because you didn't even know why you felt such-

envy

that was what you were feeling. not petty jealousy or sadness, you were envious. envious of lumine. her beauty, her strength, her personality, everything. the feeling consumed every inch of your body and dyed you green. your insecurities swallowed you up and spit you out, rendering you vulnerable against the little demons that poked at your thoughts.

when the two of you got home and freshened up, ajax practically passed out the second he lied in bed with you. on the other hand, you stayed wide awake, stuck thinking about the way lumine and ajax interacted. the smiles, the laughter, the fond looks they gave each other plagued your mind, rendering you unable to sleep. after a while of staring blankly at the ceiling, you groaned and carefully lifted the sheets to not wake your lover and got out of bed to make yourself a cup of tea. you used the tea leaves you bought from pops kai, the calming properties of the tea always helped you when you felt down.

"they're just friends, don't overthink it, just friends, just friends." you whispered to yourself, trying to give yourself a sense of reassurance. after finishing the tea you got back into bed, it was hard but you eventually fell asleep next to your lover.

next morning, you were woken by the sound of your boyfriend walking around in the living room doing something. it was only around 7am so you were wondering why up so early as he usually woke up at 8. you groggily walked out of the bedroom.

ajax noticed you and smiled fondly at the cute sight of you rubbing your eyes. "good morning babe, did i wake you up? sorry about that, i was just getting ready to go train."

"oh. by yourself?" somehow, you had a feeling of where this conversation was headed.

"no, with lumine, we made a deal yesterday to go to yaoguang shore today to fight some ruin guards and hunters for materials!" he chuckled.

lumine. lumine

the name echoed in your mind like a mantra. you were aware of his weekly spars with the blonde but today would be the second day he went out with her this week. a part of your heart told you to stop him, another part told you to let him go. in this internal battle, you chose the latter and let him go. after all, who were you to stop him? it's not like you could be the one to satisfy his thirst for battle, only someone like lumine could.

you were having a day off due to the lantern rite festival, but to be honest it's not like you needed the money. with the amount of money ajax had he could probably support you and your next 4 generations. with your spare day, you decided to clean up the house because it was a bit messy due to teucer playing around the day before.

while cleaning up you found a spare xiao lantern that teucer was supposed to release when he came over. since you had spare time you decided to set another lantern yourself, it would be a waste to not use it after all. as people say, during the lantern rites, put your wish into a lantern and set it into the sky for it to become true.

"i wish to stay with ajax, till death does us apart."

you only hoped he felt the same way about you.

you put the note in the xiao lantern and set it off into the sky, you watched with sentiment as it floated away towards the clear blue sky.

you had a hard time focusing on the task you were doing for the rest of your day so you decided to take your mind off things and go take a look around liyue harbour to see if there was anything worth checking out, or buying.

liyue harbour contained the usual, the fragrance of grilled tiger fish wafting from the stand next to where you would usually buy your groceries, the kids messing around near the boats, and you even met xiangling who tried to offer you her new recipe of jade parcels but you kindly refused.

after that you went to give the adorable little pharmacist, qiqi, a visit. she was under the cashier stand like usual, you gave her a little pat on the head and asked for the usual medicine you buy for ajax.

you then bumped into zhongli, who was also strolling around. the two of you chattered about the festival and other shenanigans before bidding each other farewell. the amount of history about liyue and its traditions the man was familiar with would never fail to surprise you.

there wasn’t really anything left for you to do in the harbour so you started to head back home. not far away from the liuli pavilion you saw a familiar redhead talking to the owner of mingxing jewelry with a shorter figure standing beside him.

upon closer inspection, you noticed it was ajax with someone else at a jewelry shop looking at the items. it was none other than lumine standing next to him. you watched as lumine picked out a piece of jewelry from the stand that would look so well on her. the gem glowed it’s colour under her smile and looked more fitting than ever. weren’t they supposed to be at yaoguang shore?

without second thought ajax bought the jewelry in lumines hand and put it in a gift bag with a look of tenderness. your heart dropped to the pits of your stomach, you felt as if the world was crashing down on you. your breathing quickened and your heart palpitated at alarming rates. every little insecurity that was planted in you had finally finished blooming. was this really going to happen to you a second time? was once not enough for the entertainment of the gods?

that was when he saw you, standing only a little bit away from him holding the items you purchased for him and the fresh groceries you were going to use to cook dinner for him.

ajax’s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing you, “y/n!? why are you he-” he was tense, you noticed, just like your ex-lover when they were caught.

you tried to regulate your breathing and spoke, “stop.” you managed to say, cutting off ajax before he could finish his sentence. he flinched at your dull tone.

“y/n! i know what you’re thinking but i promise we were just-” ajax hurriedly tries to explain.

“don’t. i think i've seen enough childe.” he frowned at the use of his moniker.

your lips trembled, water collecting at the bottom of your eyes. ‘don’t cry. don’t cry, don’t cry.’ you repeated in your head, you didn’t want to appear weak in front of the two. your ajax who you loved so much, who you cared for so much, who you were planning to spend the rest of your life with, is now buying jewelry for someone else after lying to you.

“i was foolish this entire time, of course. instead of someone like me, a visionless nobody you would choose her over me. you’re just like-” your voice cracked as you forced the words out of your tightened throat.

“y/n it’s not like that! please just let me explain!” ajax pleaded urgently. he hated that you were talking bad about yourself.

after gaining a smidge of composure you decided you couldn’t be near the two, “no need childe, i understand. now if you’ll excuse me, i'll be on my way.” you muttered and brushed past the two.

“wait y/n!-” he reached out to grab your arm before the blonde next to him stopped him.

lumine sighed and spoke up after staying silent, “let them go for now. leave them alone for a bit, they need some time to think. it’s understandable why someone would be upset if they saw their lover with someone else like this.” she comforted before patting him on the back.

“yeah. i guess you’re right...” ajax murmured with a crestfallen look. he regretted not communicating with you, otherwise this wouldn’t have happened. he should’ve cleared up any suspicions you had and reassured you. he knew about how you weren’t confident due to your last relationship. gods, he felt like he was worse than your dirtbag of an ex.

you walked towards your home slowly trying to process what just happened. your tears already ran dry and you didn’t think more were able to escape from your eyes. the fading sunset seemed so blurry yet peaceful. somehow, instead of walking home, you ended up near yaoguang shore which happened to be the spot you and ajax would go to often. his name brought bitter feelings back as you remember the events that just happened but you took a deep breath and sat on the sand across from the shore. you listened to the sound of the ocean, the waves dousing the sand it touched. you took notice of the starconches laying on the sand.

feelings of melancholy welled up inside you. these are ajax’s favourites. the blue shells reminded you of his eyes. his lovely eyes were the blue of the waves of the sea, they crashed into you and pulled you into them. you could spend all day swimming in the infinite hues until you drowned.

you buried your head onto your knees and let out a pained cry you’ve been holding in. here, where no one can find you, where no one can hear you. only the ocean will hear your troubles and worries, you hoped it could wash them away and you could forget about them forever. you sat there in peace by yourself for what felt like hours.

you sighed and decided that you should get going, but to where? you didn’t want to see ajax if he’s even going to be there at all. maybe you could crash at zhongli’s place…

just as you were about to leave you heard a familiar voice behind your back. “y/n!” it was the man you loved, ajax, sprinting to you with the same gift bag he was holding in his hands at mingxing jewelry.

you turned around to look at him. your hair was flowing in the wind with the sunset behind your back. to ajax it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life.

“i knew you’d be here.” ajax spoke with relief.

you looked away from him not knowing how to feel right now about your “lover” and stayed silent.

“y/n. i swear it wasn’t what it looked like, i would never do that to you. lumine and i really don’t have anything going on in between us, i chose you as my partner and i plan on keeping it that way for the rest of my life. in fact,” ajax murmured while opening up the gift bag he was holding. it was a bracelet with a fine piece of noctilucous jade in the middle with cor lapis fragments decorating the border of the blue gem. the jewelry wafted with fragrances, the morning dew smell from a qingxin, the classical smell of the harbour from a silk flower and lastly the everlasting aroma of violet grass.

“do you like it? lumine and i picked it out for you at mingxing jewelry for our upcoming anniversary. i just wanted her opinion on what to choose for you. this was one of the most beautiful pieces that they had. i heard it took a super long time to make, oh! the jade in the middle will also make the bracelet glow in the dark! pretty cool huh?” ajax smiled as he lifted your wrist to put it on you.

at a loss of words, you lifted your head up at the male and gave him a soft smile, “thank you ajax… i love it, it’s perfect in every way possible.”

“just like you.” the redhead spoke fondly with a grin on his face while softly stroking your hair.

“oh shut up you flirt.” you tried to hide your smile as you both giggled on the beach with the sunset dripping behind you two.

after a while of being engulfed in ajax’s arms you spoke, “ajax, i want to apologize for jumping to conclusions about you and lumine. i..you know about how i find it hard to trust people sometimes but it was unfair for me to do that to you, i know you would never cheat on me.” you spoke, hugging him tighter as if he would leave if you get go.

“y/n. don’t you dare think for a second that i’ll leave you for someone else ok? you’re the only one in this world that i want and it’s staying that way. i don’t care if you’re visionless, or if you don’t have any achievements whatsoever. i still love you so so much.” ajax exclaimed as he buried his head into the crook of your neck.

you felt a certain warmth as your face flushed. how did you end up with someone as perfect as ajax. you lifted his face with your hands and pressed your lips against his. he deepens the kiss and your heart melts.

“thank you ajax. i’ll always be by your side too, no matter what happens. my love for you has no ends.” you speak with pure affection as you nuzzled your face into ajax’s soft yet firm chest.

ajax feels his face heat up and he quickly speaks, “c’mon now, let’s go home, i can’t wait to taste your cooking after running around all day today.”

the two of you walked together on the beach, hand in hand, leaving footprints and doubts in the sand.

________________________________________________________________

special msg from my dear editor: hey lol - @kamihara , my works wouldn’t be nearly as good if it weren’t for them so go give them a follow please :)!

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dilucids · 3 years

Text

Childe oneshot; Blinded dreams

001. angst && death/mentions of death.

summary; you don't know who childe thinks of when he calls you, but you know it's not the you you wish you were.

( i feel bad for ditching y'all for this long so have one of my drafted oneshots originally written for wattpad, && if the reach on this is good, i'll let you guys have more [teehee] )

You met during summer.

And despite the sun blaring down, sending harsh rays to melt the skin right off your flesh, you did not know if the reason you were red faced was because of said sun, or because there was a pretty boy ( one of the prettiest, mind you ) that lived right next to you and he was currently hanging on the fence, waving at you with a smile on his face.

"Heya, (name)!" The way he says your name is breathtaking, almost as if it lived on the tip of his tongue yet he seemed foreign to it, as if he had not uttered the syllables in many years. Like a flower blossoming over the years, finally pulled out premature by small, fat fingers belonging to a mere child who wanted to see the flower in bloom. ( You forget you have never seen this child before. ) The flower is ruined however, its fragile petals fall into their palm and they shrug, as if they hadn't taken a life and move onto the next one, repeating the process. ( How does he know your name again? )

He peers at you ( it's similar to the way you would look at an old friend or the way your mother looks when you're going to family reunions and she has the bittersweet revelation that her father is still dead, ) and you blink, head rolling to the side, holding the bouquet of freshly picked dead flowers close to your chest, "How'd you know my name?"

His jaw slacks for just a second before his smile is back on his face, pulling himself up and flinging himself over the fence, landing right in front of you and causing you to take a tiny step back, "magic?" He tests the answer and shakes his head to revoke it when you furrow your eyebrows, not appreciating the joke. "Your mum was talking to mine," he speaks the truth when your face is unchanging to his plain joke.

You hum, and then walk back to the flower bed that was left behind by the previous family, and continue snapping stems off as collecting them in a heap next to you. The ginger boy follows you, although he doesn't sit down like you do but squats, hands close to his chest and watches as you pluck the flowers straight out of the earth. Although he followed you, he seemed more interested in the dead flowers, staring at one until you ripped it out the earth and then moved onto the next one.

He reaches out for a flower but you stop him, holding his fingers in yours and shaking your head when he looks over at you, questioning. "Thorns." An understanding breath escapes him as he continues watching you instead, your fingers dig against the dirt slightly, pushing it away before gripping the stem with your pointer and thumb before tugging ( there are many times when the force causes you to fall backwards slightly sometimes but it doesn't stop you. )

"Ajax!" You both hear coming from the boy's, probably Ajax, garden and you peer over him to when he suddenly stands up, going to jump back over the fence.

You test the name in your head a few times before your mouth follows, "Ajax," you stumbled a little but he turns around anyways, humming with a smile on his face, "I'll bring you a proper flower one day."

He nods and then disappears over the fence. You hear scoldings from his mother but tune them out. ( You didn't like the way his name felt new on your tongue, it didn't match the way he called you. )

You begged your mother to buy purple carnation seeds later that day.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are ten and 'Ajax' still sounds weird to you but you persevere.

It doesn't sound weird when your mother is the one calling him, asking him if he had enough pillows to be laying on your bedroom floor and he nods, leaning against the frame on your bed as you both bid goodnight and your mother nods, closing the door behind her. Almost immediately after the door clicks close, Ajax leans back onto your bed, making you quirk an eyebrow. "I can only sleep with two pillows."

You peer down at the head of his makeshift bed, at the foot of the closet next to your bed. There was only one pillow, you sigh and drop the pillow onto the floor. You don't wait until he says anything and slip into your own bed, pulling the cover over yourself, facing the wall rather than Ajax.

( You dream that night.

You dream of a world where man had the powers of Gods and Gods walked amongst men. Where the world was shaped by years of wars and work, where statues of Seven Gods were erected upon the land, granting peace and protection for people and animals alike.

You are sat around a marble circular table, the smell of food and tea hitting your nose. You peer up, there's a man sat a little across from you, clad in colours of cor lapis. His amber eyes hold no emotion, a diamond of memories steeping in his eyes as he brings up the cup to his lips and sips behind the hand he also brings up. His form is nothing less than godly and he sets the cup down without a sound━━━━ like a warrior. His shoulders roll down like waterfalls cascading from mountains, his hair is pulled back and bangs freely fall like leaves of a tree and you can see the scenery of Liyue in his very soul.

You don't know his name but it slips off your tongue perfectly, "Zhongli, where is Hu tao?"

(( Who is Hu Tao? ))

"The Director will be late, she is dealing with," he clears his throat in a way that lets you know his following words are a lie, "other troubling matters within the funeral parlor."

You nod, although you have no idea what he is talking about. "Do you know how late she will be?" You inquire, watching his eyebrows furrow and fingers flex, linen gloves pressing against his fingers as he does so.

You see Morax in him for a little while before his thinking subsides and he presses his lips into a line, "The Director did not state how long she will be."

You hum with nothing else to say and begin bringing your attention to the food that was beginning to grow cold on the table, "help yourself please," you signal Zhongli to the food and before he speaks, an amusing smile breaks out on your face, "I will be taking care of the bill."

His troubles subsides and he follows your words, grabbing the chopsticks by his ceramic plate. You two fall into a comforting silence, which is a peculiar yet nice feeling. Rather than a business meeting, it feels more like two old friends meeting up for a small chat.

A while passes with no sign of Hu Tao and you see Zhongli peer up from his food, eyes tracking another entity who had walked into the building, so you throw your head back a little.

"Childe." The boy looks eyes with you and a smile breaks out on his face when he sees you, the waves in his eyes crashing against the shore as his eyes crease. (( Childe? That was Ajax. ))

And you wake up to the sea washing up on shore eyes gazing down at you. )

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are twelve, two years have passed and the dream you had stayed with you like a distant memory. Ajax's name still doesn't sound nice when you speak it and you feel like you're ruining it so you settled on a nickname, Aj. ( Only two letters, how could you make them sound wrong? )

"Aj," you call out the boy, whose smile widens when he sees you. Two syllables, but that's how you know him. He dismisses himself from the bind of conversation of two girls, who seemed pretty interested in him ( as a man ) and you knew that for sure because when you stepped your foot into their conversation, they glared at you slightly before stomping away.

The walk home was slightly awkward. For you anyways, because there were words that were burning at the tip of your tongue and sometimes letting lava erupt was a bad idea but leaving it to build up is also a bad idea.

"You okay?" Ajax almost gives you a 'go', peering up at you slightly ( you were taller than him, a feat you were quite proud of ).

You clear your throat slightly, starting off cautiously, "remember when we first met?"

And you don't know what you had expected because a stupid smile lights up on his face and he answers straightly, "no."

( Your poor two years of taking care of purple carnations, down the drain for a boy like this. )

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are fifteen, stood in front of Ajax, holding a bouquet of purple carnations and a box of assorted chocolates behind your back. Sweat collects in the palms of your hand and you know it's not from the heat, you wipe both palms on the side of your sweater, watching him talk to his friends to give yourself a little more time for confidence before walking over there.

But the time shortens when his friend notices you, pointing out your figure to Ajax and he turns to you, a whole 180 degrees with his entire body and waves at you with his entire arm, you wave back with a shaky smile on your face when he begins to run your way after bidding his goodbyes to his friends.

He skids to a stop when in front of you, and can obviously see the flowers you were attempting to hide because a sly smile perks itself on his face. ( You would never admit to it, but he looked really good when he was smiling. )

"What are you hiding?" He hums, leaning down slightly with his hands behind his back as he attempts to see, you turn away, hiding the gifts for a little while longer. "Hold still," you press him down with one hand on his shoulder, stopping him and he straightens his back, humming.

"Listen," you take a deep breath because it's inescapable for you to not ramble this out, "we've been friends for a really long time, yeah? And I know this is really weird and out of the blue but I really like you and I'm sorry if I'm ruining our friendship but I've weighed the pros and cons of not having you as a friend and as someone I walk past in hallways and glance away awkwardly at, and the cons actually outweigh the pros but I really don't know if I can keep these feelings to myself because you're the only re━━"

A hand on your head stops you from talking anymore ( he's taller than you now, taller than most your peers actually ) and his smile is still there, "you're not breathing dear."

You don't realise he's called you 'dear', you feel like he's always been calling you that so it skips past your mind, and you take a deep breath. Presenting the gifts from behind you, Ajax stares at you with little expression on his face.

"I love you, Childe."

( Who is Childe? Why did he come to your mind now and why is Ajax tearing up?

There were many questions that entered your mind then, but they were all quickly forgotten when Ajax pushes your gifts aside, placing both hands on either side of your cheek and quite literally pulling you up to his height, pressing his lips against yours. You're both deaf to the sounds of whoops, whistles, and claps by his friends in the background as your arms circle his waist and his tears enters your kiss. )

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are nineteen, and the way Ajax calls you is deafening to your heart.

"(name)," he breaths, in an indescribable way as if to say 'my (name)' and it should give you butterflies but the way he looked at you made you feel as though you were a soul trapped in the wrong body. He was giving you everything you had ever wanted in a way you had never wished.

You should stop him, because he's not in love with you. He's in love with the person he sees in you, but who is that person? Why do they mean so much to him? Can't he forget them? Why do you remind him of them? Is he stupid?

And most importantly, why the hell isn't he letting you go? You've died already━━━━ even if he still retains all his past memories, does he even know how unfair his gaze is? The way he says your name? It makes you want to wake from your grave, located near Liyue ( because though Childe was from Snezhnaya, you lived and loved near the peaks of Liyue and qingxin flowers were made to bloom above your resting place, delicately and preciously ).

The way his breath was hitting your bare skin, his cold lips were barely touching your burning flesh, the goddamn way he was muttering your name under his breath and you think you've finally snapped but you come completely undone when he stops, glancing back up at you with his eyes.

( Memories wash over you in an instant, the years you spent with him in Liyue, even if he was a Fatui Harbinger and Zhongli advised you, albeit indirectly, not to get involved with them and Xiao, not so indirectly, with a scowl on his face and then the memory of him taking your life in Liyue, with a single arrow through your chest and the last thing you see is the tsunami of emotions in his eyes and Xiao pulling him off of you. You've lived for so long, through so many lives and yet he is the only one who could completely tear you apart and make you lose all reason. )

"I love you, Childe, but please," the way you call his name makes his heart ache, in ways it has never before. "Let me go." And you wash away from his shore like a fleeting memory.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Childe wakes up with his back sore and face cold due to leaning against your gravestone, he takes one hand to run through his hair, the other is placed above the grass where your body was buried and he peers down, grass entangled in his fingers, stabbing through the thin fabric of his glove like your hair did.

"Childe," he knows it's not you behind him, because you don't sound like a man nor a God and the way you called his name is more endearing, as if you were speaking a poem of two lovers but he turns anyways, and in his heart he hopes it's you.

But it's not, it's the Adeptus who held you close to his heart. Xiao's and Childe's relationship has never been good, simply because; a) their personalities clashed and b) they were on opposing sides but after your death, an unexplainable hatred grew in Xiao's heart for him.

( In Xiao's mind, Childe was the one who cared for his job more than you and heeded orders to end your life. ) Childe cracks a smile on his face, waving Xiao off before he says anything and pushes himself off your grave, "you don't need to say anything, I'm going," he says in a playful tone, as if he were leaving a party.

Xiao's eyebrows furrow, lips curling into a snarl when Childe walks past him, "despicable," he spits. ( But if Childe had asked you to, you would've taken your own life. )

#genshin impact #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin #genshin oneshot #genshin childe #childe #genshin tartagalia #childe x gender neutral reader #childe x reader #x reader

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jflashandclash · 6 years

Text

The Fall of the Sun: Traitors of Olympus IV

Four: Ajax

A Most Uninspiring Rescue

(or: Titan Ex Machina)

The hush aboard the Princess Andromeda cruise ship became eerier with each erratic creak of the smoldering floorboards. The strength of the waves that were battering the hull weakened, as though the sea itself had quieted to listen. The souls of Kronos’ former army lingered on the top deck. Because Ares owned the souls of all combatants that died in a losing battle, they could do no more than stare as two gods and a titan decided the fate of some of the last survivors from their ranks: two of their last heroes alive and free.

That was all great, but all Pax could think about was how boring Prometheus was when he talked.

Or, at least, that’s what Pax told himself to think about.

Now that Prometheus’ initial aura of, Oooooo! Titan Ex-Machina! had worn off, Pax’s hand and shoulder felt like Zeus had prodded him a couple hundred times with a lightning bolt in a “is it dead?” motion. From what Pax could tell, his left shoulder was either dislocated or fractured and his hand definitely had a hole in it. Prometheus still cradled him and his brother, Axel Pax, in either arm, with Axel squirming and thrashing violently, like a proper, indignant, kitten warrior.

Pax wanted to make a joke about but was only able to burrow his face further against the Titan’s white tuxedo. All he wanted was a hug, a lollipop, and probably seven years a therapy paid as worker’s compensation for being a demigod.

“Ares, Aphrodite, I’m really here for your interest,” Prometheus said diplomatically. He sat on a patio chair across from the God of War and Goddess of Love, like they were talking business while he was holding a cup of coffee, instead of two sobbing Pax boys, one kicking like a toddler. “If you kill Ajax Pax now, you’ll regret all the misery that you could have put him and his brother through if you let him live.”

Gee, Prometheus, guess who’s not getting a homemade Christmas sweater this year.

Pax opened his mouth to thank Prometheus for swooping in with the most rousing rescue ever, but he couldn’t get intelligible words to come out. He choked on tears.

This was a typical demigod Sunday: one minute you’re off, trying to stop a friend from listening to a homicidal sword so she can defend your summer camp, and the next minute, you’re pulled off course and your brother is stabbing you through the hand because a god’s driven him mad.

So, maybe Axel shouldn’t have tried to castrate Ares in a fight during the Second Titan War and maybe Axel shouldn’t have turned the goddess down so harshly, but it wasn’t like Axel was in the wrong. Plus, Ares and Aphrodite both cursed Axel in turn. Let bygones be bygones, right?

That’s how Pax would have started this meeting.

“Can we start beating him now?” Ares asked Aphrodite, adjusting his sunglasses. The darkened lens blazed with a backlit fire. The frames settled onto his facial scarf that wrapped around his head like a Somalian pirate. The AK-47 strapped on his back swayed as he cracked his knuckles and widened his stance.

Aphrodite huffed. She smoothed the purple straps of her bikini and shook her now-spiraling red locks. “Human Lover, why should we listen to you?”

Prometheus shrugged. “If you want to miss out on tragic romances and some bloody battles…”

Aphrodite’s amber eyes softened at the words “tragic romances.”

Ares grinned at “bloody battles.”

“Well, let’s dissect this logically. If you force Axel to kills Pax now,” Prometheus continued, “Then, Aphrodite, you’ll never see how the love triangle will unfold between Kally, Alabaster, and Pax.[1] You’ve worked too hard to build up that tension just to let it be resolved by a simple death. As subplot romance goes, that would be lazy writing.[2] You’ll miss out on all the remorse, the struggle, the jealousy, and the passion.”

Aphrodite pouted. “I do hate when shows cop out at the end. It really deprives you of the loser’s emotional turmoil.”

Pax should have been offended that her only qualm with his death was how it would rob her of a good season finale. Instead, despite all of his current pain, his ears chimed in to “love triangle.” That implied he still had a chance with Kally or Alabaster, or, in a dream world where the Fates didn’t hate Pax and where he owned a weasel circus, maybe he’d have a chance with both. Meow.

“And Ares, if Pax dies now, you’ll never have a chance to add his soul to your collection.” Prometheus gently lifted the Pax brothers. If his hands were free, Pax could tell he would gesture to their dead friends, gathered around to silently listen. His stomach clenched to think that Flynn was watching this. “And I think you’re only missing Luke and Jack currently. And Jack’s soul might be up for grabs again soon.”

Ares’ lip twitched. “What makes you think I wouldn’t get the Pax brat’s soul? He’d be the loser in a battle.”

Prometheus scoffed. “Really, Ares? I feel like Artemis would enjoy watching that more than you would. That was no battle. That was a hunt. Little Pax will never fight his brother. He’ll always run away.”

From across Prometheus’ shoulder, Pax could hear the low whine of a suppressed sob.

Normally, Pax would have never thought that noise could come from his brother. As far as Pax was concerned, Axel was created from primordial awesome and didn’t know the meaning of the word “flinch.” Crying and cowering: those were Pax solutions to problems. The last time Pax had heard Axel cry was five years ago, when their father had bludgeoned Uncle Frasco and Aunt Nilley to death. After that, Axel always had that stupid, stoic expression on his face, and only expressed his emotions through night terrors, cigarette smoke, and miraculously losing his shirt around Reyna Ramirez.[3]

“And when it comes to Axel,” Prometheus said, “do you really want a broken man? As a lover or an opponent?” His gaze alternated between Aphrodite and Ares.

Pax wanted to point out that ambiguous directing of Prometheus’ comment made Ares’ relationship to Axel terrifyingly questionable. Instead, Pax found himself trying to peek over Prometheus’ shoulder to look at his brother. He wished he could give him a hug, or remind him that Reyna would still find Axel sexy after this, but he regretted the motion for more than the ache it caused in his shoulder.

One glance of the Leonis Caput helm, obscuring Axel’s face, sent Pax shivering. Pax could perfectly envision Axel stealing one of Pax’s own celestial daggers and posing it to stab Pax in the throat, like he had mere minutes ago. Yea, he loved his brother and didn’t want Axel to worry… but Pax was officially freaked out more than a Reese’s Stick and a hug could fix. And those were fantastic bartering tools in the Book of Pax.

From the soft sounds Axel was making, he was freaked too.

“Ares, if you have Axel finish off his brother, he’ll likely never fight again. So you’ll lose the chance at two souls from Kronos’ army. And you love watching Axel fight.”

“That kid is really violent,” Ares agreed.

“And Aphrodite, you fell for Axel’s tenacity and aloofness. If anyone is going to break him, it should be you, because he finally crumbled to your wiles, as you know he eventually will.”

“He will,” she said stubbornly.

Despite their discussion on Axel rising to the occasion, both for fighting and for… um… Aphrodite, Pax had to bite back a horrified thought: what if Axel was already irreparably broken?

“And lastly, Ares,” Prometheus said. Pax tried to focus on the calming tones of his voice, remembering all the times Prometheus had talked Luke out of punishing Pax for a prank gone wrong. Pax wanted to hold it together, to pretend everything was alright. Axel was already going to feel terrible enough without seeing Pax a mess. “Eris won’t be happy if you kill the only child she’s had in centuries.”

Centuries? Pax managed to choke down his sobs. “I’m a special snowflake,” he said.

“She can make another one,” Ares grunted.

“It takes a unique psychopath for her to fall in love,” Prometheus said. “As you would know from your dallies on the battlefield.”

Ares cracked a grin. “Ah, the Trojan War, Stalingrad, Vietnam… Those were the good days.”

Gross, Pax thought. That was about as comfortable as thinking about a porcupine mating with a condor.

But the diversion was ingenious. Aphrodite’s eyes immediately narrowed. “The good days?” she echoed softly.

Ares nodded absently before noticing her careful expression. He put his hands up. “Oh, no, babe, I didn’t mean—”

“The good days?” she said again.

Pax wanted to point out the double standard of Aphrodite wanting Axel and Ares not being allowed to want Eris, but figured now wasn’t the time to help with their godly love life. Though, judging by how big their cabins were, neither of these two cared about the other’s interests. Only if they were “the good old days.”

The Goddess of Love began to snarl in a low voice to a retreating God of War.

Prometheus rose to his feet. “I wouldn’t want our presence to be any more a mare on your vacation.” The titan stepped casually around the deck, nodding to fallen Kronos soldiers as he gathered Pax’s Silver Tongued Snake helm. Several soldiers on deck dropped their mops and rushed to bring him Pax’s utility belt from the pool. Pax hiccupped to see Flynn tuck Pax’s daggers into Prometheus’ belt.

Flynn gave Pax a mixed expression: a warm smile of relief with an icy scowl that said I never want to see you again. The message was a good one, that he shouldn’t get killed in a losing battle and become a slave to Ares. Though Pax would have preferred a kazoo send off, this was the best he could hope for in this parting.

With his white tuxedo, random weapons, and the two Pax boys—one sobbing and one still struggling to be released, the titan must have looked like the most heavily armed, well dressed baby sitter ever to ride on a cruise ship.

“I’m glad you’re smart enough to see how this could have been a terrible misstep in judgment. I’ll get them out of your hair so you don’t need to worry about it,” Prometheus said.

Aphrodite didn’t turn from her argument with Ares. She snapped her fingers and snarled, “Get lost.”

At the snap of her fingers, Axel stopped struggling against Prometheus’ grip. The door to Johnny Rockets—where the Pax brothers had originally entered—flew open to reveal a narrow set of ascending stairs instead of a restaurant: their way back to camp.

Pax could only hope the heroes of Olympus had patched themselves up and come to Camp Half-Blood’s heroic rescue. That would mean a rather pissy, sore Jason Grace might be waiting for him. But, after having nightmares-premonitions of Axel trying to kill Pax and living through the event, he would have been happy to scrub Jason’s cabin with a toothbrush.

Imagine the prank and terrorizing access he’d have.

Memo to self: offer to scrub Jason Grace’s cabin with a toothbrush when we get back.

Once they walked through the Johnny Rocket’s door into the stone passageway, a wave of icy, dank air greeted them. Earlier that morning, when Euna forced Jack, their decapitated, singing friend—long story—to make these stairs by singing the earth into a headache, Jack had been inconsiderate in accommodating a titan’s size. If Jack were around, Pax would scold him for his bigotry and told Prometheus to stage a social justice boycott. In the meantime, Prometheus shrank down in size.

Pax could barely get his voice to work. “Th-they d-don’t c-c-call you the T-titan of c-craft-ty c-c-council f-f-for no reason. T-though I th-think you sh-should add d-dramatic t-t-timing to your list-st of s-s-super powers.”

“Thank you, Ajax. I will remember to put that on my resume next time they dedicate a statue to me,” Prometheus said. Although there was some humor to his words, he sounded sad.

The grey light from the ship disappeared when the door swung shut. All they had was what dim firelight trickled down the passage from above. Pax wished Prometheus would sprint up the stairs. He was waiting for Ares to appear and shout, “Psych!” and drag them back down.

He also hoped his brother would scold him for being ungrateful. Instead, he heard Axel’s choked whisper, “Th-thank you, Prometheus. I… I…”

“Axel, do you remember what you said to me when I thanked you for slaying the Kaukasian Eagle?” Prometheus asked softly. His steps echoed up the stairs.

There was a pause. Then, “That no one should be punished for trying to better the world.”

Pax could envision Prometheus squeezing Axel’s shoulder. “I’m just repaying you in kind.”

At first, Pax thought this “bettering the world” was in reference to how Axel had helped Hephaestus pull a prank on Ares and Aphrodite and, really, to how Axel tried to cut off Ares’ dick. While those actions would certainly make a better tomorrow, Pax realized Prometheus meant their service to the Titan Army.

They quieted for the last few steps, enough that Pax could hear Axel’s shaky breath and the renewed ruckus from Camp Half-Blood above. From the sound of it, campers had woken from Phobetor’s spell.

“Um, P-Prometheus?” Pax said, trying to get his voice under control, “Y-you’re g-good at pr-predicting things. H-how do you think a bunch of p-panicked demigods w-will react when an e-enemy t-titan walks into the middle of their c-c-amp during a b-battle?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t given it much forethought.” Prometheus smiled. “Let’s find out.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed seeing Prometheus… in talking action? Man, he sounds a lot less epic when you remember his powers are like those of a British aristocrat. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed! :D Tune in next week for Kally’s Dental Floss Does Not Equate to Surgical Thread

(or: Unsanitary Surgeries and Unconventional Kisses). (Ooooo, a shippy chapter XD)

Footnotes:

[1] Mel, my editor, has repeatedly asked if Prometheus has a ship for these three. In response, Prometheus would like to remind everyone that he is a titan of forethought and it would be cheating for him to answer.

[2] And Jack can’t have that. Merry would murder him.

[3] Pax would like to add this to the list of powers that Axel possesses.

#Traitors of Olympus #PJO #HOO #fanfiction #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #Pax #Prometheus #Axel #Ares #Aphrodite #condors mating with porcupines #I mean--what?#Patrick Stewart as Prometheus #I'd watch that

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furnaceinthehayloft · 7 years

Text

From 2009 through 2016, I took part in a series of great books seminars. We met on Sundays. Here is how seminar works, mostly, in the sense that I mean it: there is an opening question, a reading list, a table and chairs, a great book, no food. It meets regularly about once or twice a week. The opening question should be an honest question for whoever asks, as well as for the rest of the seminar and for the author of the text. Often, a good opening question is one which the text seems to ask of itself. For example, in Sophocles's play, Ajax asks "What joy can be in day that follows day, Bringing us close then snatching us from death?" In the seminar in which this question was asked, it developed that Odysseus moves side-to-side, while Ajax moves forward and backward. This metaphor then formed the basis of our investigation. The opening question is by no means the only question to be addressed, and many a great seminar veers immediately away from the opening question, never to return. Yet, the seminar accepts the opening question as a a valid question, and it is understood that we rely on the space which this question creates. Even a "bad" opening question still creates a space. A reading list is especially helpful when there is a large power disparity among the members, either institutional, intellectual, social, or what-have-you. By removing the choice of what to read next, the reading list removes one of the primary active mechanisms of control. A seminar with a lopsided power dynamic, willing members, and without a reading list may very likely turn into a guru-type situation. In a setting in which not all of the participants are willing, as in school, without a reading list some of the people may try to use the choice of what to read next as a way to exert control and escape their imprisonment. This is entirely to be expected; the student has made a wise choice. If such a seminar is to persist, a reading list may be necessary. In the Sunday seminars we were largely unaware of such power disparities, so we often just decided each week what to read the next. A seminar without a previously agreed reading list is sometimes called a "guerrilla seminar". The participants should try to finish the reading. This is not always possible; sometimes, a seminar assigns itself something like 300 pages of Tacitus. But what is it to read, and what is it to "finish" a reading? A person who reads only "What joy can be in day that follows day, Bringing us close then snatching us from death?", or reads only "With the fundamental mood of anxiety we have arrived at that occurrence in human existence in which the nothing is revealed and from which it must be interrogated. How is it with the nothing?", or reads only "The valley spirit never dies; It is the woman, primal mother. Her gateway is the root of heaven and Earth.", and who really reads those tiny fragments, has read far more and better than one who wastes a lifetime staring at words without feeling. The table functions as a table, but also as a material object separating the participants, hiding their bodies and connecting them by means of a flat and empty space. This is not strictly necessary but it can be a great source of comfort. The table should not have a hole in the middle of it. It should not be a ring of smaller tables. Ideally it should be a nice table, but this is not always practical. A few wooden tables pushed together does well. The chairs should be comfortable. Many people habitually lean back or forward in their chairs during seminar, and this behavior should be accommodated as far as possible by the chairbler. A great book is a book on which a great seminar can be had (and a great seminar is one which can address a great book). Such books are abundant, but some care is generally advisable in selecting a text. A great book can accept any question, no matter how small, large, irrelevant, or just plain stupid. This removes a lot of the pressure from the seminar participants. A great book is resilient, fecund, and immaculately coherent. In the ideal book, every element down to the etymology of each word is essential, irreplaceable, and interactive with every other element. Seminar is a serious study. It is like being in a great library after hours. We listen to each other and speak our best, while yet recognizing that the spirit which moves us to speak is not always under our control. Eating at the table generally detracts from the study, as an ambiguous overlap develops with the much more common table-based social activity of meals. (Revelations 10:9, “And I went unto the angel, and said unto him, Give me the little book. And he said unto me, Take it, and eat it up; and it shall make thy belly bitter, but it shall be in thy mouth sweet as honey.”) A very hungry person could eat their lunch or dinner at the beginning of seminar, but they should apologize for their impropriety. Some people think it's sometimes a good idea to have seminar while drunk, but I have generally been underwhelmed by the contributions of drunk or otherwise intoxicated people. A seminar isn't a great place to have a party, but it can be loads of fun to have a party in which we have seminar, in the same way that people enjoy a party in which we play a sport. There are some schools which claim to have seminar 5 days a week, but I don't see how that is possible for a group which is taking the project seriously. The Sunday seminars met once a week, while at St. John's College they meet twice a week. While the underlying behaviors were largely learned from St. John's College in Santa Fe, NM and Annapolis, MD, the practice and the formulation of these ideas was developed in the Sunday Seminar itself with Lea Brock and other collaborators.

In the fall of 2016 other participants in the seminar needed to begin meeting in a place which made me uncomfortable. I expect one day again to take part in such work. Here is a more-or-less complete list of books which we read: 2009 1/22 Rabelais - Gargantua and Pantagruel (Prologue-I5, I6-15,-28,-41,-58,II19) 2/26 Aristotle - Posterior Analytics (II19) 3/5 Kierkegaard - Fear and Trembling (Preface, Attune., Praise; Preamble; Problema I) 4/2 Nietzsche - Thus Spake Zarathustra (Prologue-6, -14, -22) 4/23 (this is when I joined the seminar) Wittgenstein - Philosophical Investigations (Preface-20, -39, -60, -85, -120) Summer 2009: ? Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground Baudelaire - "To the Reader", "The Enemy", "The Albatross" 10/4 Joyce - Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (-2,-5) 11/1 Buber - I and Thou (I, II, III&PS) 11/22 Heidegger - What Is Metaphysics? Heidegger - On the Essence of Truth 2010 1/10 Husserl - The Origin of Geometry 1/24 Wittgenstein - Philosophical Investigations (I -231,-463,-693,II) 2/28 Borges - Labyrinths (The Fictions, The Essays and The Parables) 3/7 Marquez - 100 Years of Solitude (-105,-207,-297,-422) 4/18 Trivers - On the Evolution of Reciprocal Altruism 4/25 Hearne - Adam's Task (-3,-6,-11) Summer of 2010: Shakespeare's Henries and Richards, Dogen, ? Aeschylus - Agamemnon 9/19 Aeschylus - Libation Bearers?, Eumenides Kafka - The Penal Colony Plutarch - Alcibiades Plato - Phaedrus 10/31 Kierkegaard - Fear & Trembling (same divisions as in 2008) 12/5 Rig Veda - selections 2011 1/16 Upanishads - Brihad-Aranyaka and Katha, 4th Brahmana 1-17, and Valli 1-6 (one class) Hemingway - The Old Man and the Sea Kafka - A Hunger Artist 2/6 O'Connor - The Lame Shall Enter First Chaucer - Nun's Priest's Tale 2/20 Dante - Inferno (4 seminars) 4/3 Euripides - Alcestis (SJC alumni seminar with Mr. Lecuyer) Fukuoka - One Straw Revolution part 1&5 Trivers - On the Evolution of Reciprocal Altruism 5/1 Wordsworth - Tintern Abbey Plato - Ion 5/15 Kafka - Before the Law Summer of 2011: Tolstoy - War and Peace 8/7 O'Connor - Wise Blood (-6, -end) 8/21 Montaigne - On Repenting Chesterton - Ethics of Elfland 9/11 Nagarjuna - Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way Heidegger - What is Metaphysics? 9/25 Shakespeare - Othello (I&II, III-V) Plato - Lysis 10/30 Sophocles - Philoctetes Matthew 1-7 11/20 Euripides - Bacchae 12/4 Hesiod - Works and Days Ecclesiastes 2012 Straus - Persecution and the Art of Writing Klein - The Problem and the Art of Writing 1/29 Klein - History and the Liberal Arts Melville - Benito Cereno (2 seminars half and half) Tolstoy - Kreutzer Sonata 3/4 Kepler - excerpt (2 seminars) Newton - (Definitions, Axioms, Corollary II, Book I & Lemma I&II) 4/22 Trivers - On the Evolution of Reciprocal Altruism Hemingway - A Clean Well-Lighted Place, Fifty Grand Baudelaire - The Abyss, A Carrion, The Mask 5/13 Pascal - Pensees (self-selections) Summer 2012: Cervantes - Don Quixote 8/12 Euclid - Elements (I thru P24, -P48, II thru P6, II) Kierkegaard - Philosophical Fragments I&II 9/16 Euclid - Elements (III -P20, III -end, IV) Kierkegaard - Philosophical Fragments (all) 10/28 Euclid - Elements (V, VI -P16, VI -end) Shakespeare - Midsummer Night's Dream Dostoevsky - Bobok 12/2 Euclid - Elements VII 3 Poems - Millay's "Euclid Alone", Keats's "Ode", Hopkins's "Pied Beauty" 2013 Tolstoy - Hadji Murat (didn't happen) 2/3 Hopkins - 7 Poems (Lantern, Pied Beauty, Shocks of Wheat, Windhover, etc) 3/24 Nietzsche - Beyond Good & Evil (Preface and 1; 2; 3, 4; 5; 6; 7; 8; 9) Summer 2013: Tolstoy - Anna Karenina 8/18 The Secret Book of John Plato - Gorgias (-486e, -end) 9/8 Plutarch - Caesar Plutarch - Brutus Sophocles - Ajax 9/29 Hearne - How to Say Fetch 10/20 Faulkner - Go Down Moses, "The Bear" Plato - Cratylus Plato - Timaeus 11/10 Wilde - Picture of Dorian Grey (1st half, 2nd half) Faulkner - "Pantaloon in Black" 2014 1/12 O'Connor - The Life you Save could be Your Own O'Connor - Good Country People Heidegger - Building Dwelling Thinking 2/2 Plato - Theaetetus (2 seminars) Plato - Protagoras Plato - Parmenides 3/9 Tolstoy - Father Sergius Beckett - Waiting for Godot Pascal - Generation of Conic Sections 4/6 Borges - The Quixote of Pierre Menard Nietzsche - The Birth of Tragedy 5/4 Erwin Straus - The Upright Posture Goethe - On the Metamorphosis of Plants Summer 2014: Joyce - Ulysses 8/3 Kant - What is Enlightenment? Kipling - Kim (3 seminars) 8/26 Beowulf (2 seminars) 9/22 Dostoevsky - Notes From Underground (2 seminars) 10/19 Salinger - The Catcher in the Rye 10/26 Mann - Little Herr Friedemann 11/2 Achebe - Things Fall Apart (3 seminars) 11/23 Nietzsche - On Truth and Lies in an Extra-Moral Sense 12/7 Plato - Symposium (2 seminars) 2015 1/11 Silko - Ceremony (2) 2/8 Schiller - "Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man" 2/22 Shakespeare - Julius Caesar (2) 3/1 Jonas - "To Move and to Feel" 3/22 Shakespeare - Antony and Cleopatra (2) 4/12 Plato - The Sophist (2) 4/26 Woolf - To the Lighthouse (4)Summer 2015: Melville - Moby Dick8/9 Aristotle - Nicomachean Ethics (book VIII) (w/ SJC alumni chapter) 8/23 Ibsen - The Lady from the Sea 8/30 Melville - Bartleby 9/13 Chaucer - Canterbury Tales (Prologue; Knight's Tale 1&2; K's Tale 3&4) 10/4 Melville - Bartleby (w/ SJC alumni chapter) 10/25 Chaucer - Canterbury Tales (Miller's, Reeve's, and Cook's Tales) 11/1 Canterbury Tales (Man of Law's Tale) 11/8 Canterbury Tales (Shipman's, Prioerss's, and Chaucer's of Sir Topaz Tales) 11/15 Canterbury Tales (Chaucer's Tale of Melibee; Monk's Tale) 11/23 Plutarch - The Life of Dion (w/ SJC alumni chapter)2016 1/10 Chaucer - Canterbury Tales (Nun's Priest's Tale; Physician's & Pardoner's Tales) 1/24 Canterbury Tales (Wife of Bath's Tale; Friar's and Summoner's Tales; Merchant's Tale) 2/21 Canterbury Tales (Squire's and Franklin's Tales; 2nd Nun's and Canon's Yeoman's Tales) 3/6 Canterbury Tales (Manciple's and Parson's tales and Chaucer's Retraction) 3/27 Nietzsche - The Genealogy of Morals (Preface and Essay 1; Essay 2; Essay 3 (2)) 4/24 Heidegger - "The Origin of a Work of Art" (3) 5/15 Woolf - "The Mark on the Wall"

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gakkawojin · 7 years

Text

time for a eurovision ranking rant with sav that no one cares about wooooooo

this is actually vaguely in order of songs i love through to dislike so here goes

italy: francesco gabbani, occidentali’s karma my clear winner near enough since it was announced, honestly. good hook, good overall sound, unique amongst this year’s selection, interesting theme, faintly silly dancing, europe’s cool uncle. solid winner. will probably do very well in the show and maybe win, roma 2018 right boys, honestly though this is one of my fave esc entries in years if not ever

moldova: sunstroke project, hey, mamma! see above: good beat, good sound, questionable silly dancing, europe’s other cool uncles. decent vocals, excellent musicians, and they really seem pleased/proud to be representing moldova again (imo ola tira held them back this time), this is a solid club/party song and i think a solid qualifier. maybe not a winner, but i’m expecting/hoping for a good result for moldova! hopefully their second time in the top ten, maybe even their first top 5 if they’re lucky

belarus: NAVI, historyja mahjo žyccia another i loved from the first time i heard it in the national selection days (i didn’t think it would win cause everything i love seems to die on the stage at nf shows) and it’s much stronger with the new rework. it’s just such a happy, feelgood song, they’ve got great voices and chemistry together, it still stands out even weeks after its announcement and i love it. also first entry in belorussian yesssss

the netherlands: OG3NE, lights and shadows i’ll be honest, when i first listened to the studio i wasn’t in love, but then i heard their live performance and hoooooooooooly shiiiiiiit man they’re good. will need strong/dramatic staging because the song itself is a bit 90s but it’s got a good build and some amazing vocal work, i would love for this to do well

portugal: salvador sobral, amar pelos dois i hate ballads, i do, but i love this -it’s quirky, something a bit different, and his voice is lovely. it reminds me of old disney movies in the best way. it actually reminds me a bit of pernilla karlsson’s när jag blundar for finland a few years ago, weirdly, but i really like them both. i hope this year finally brings portugal back into the finals because this is gorgeous, honestly

austria: nathan trent, running on air i really like this, honestly -i don’t think it’s a winner by any means, but it’s good, radio friendly, it’s feel good and fun and i like it. i’m curious what’s gonna happen with staging but i think nathan’s a strong dancer and performer so this should do okay for austria, it’s similar in tone/style to last year and they did alright then so

france: alma, requiem i really liked this on release, but her live vocals just don’t hold up as well as i’d wanted them to, and i feel the song starts to trail in the last minute or so. i still really like it and i think it’s another really solid effort for france this year but it’s just not as strong as some of the other entries for me

estonia: koit toome & laura, verona hilariously i haaaaaaaated this in the early days of eesti laul (my girl elina born was there after all so) but it really grew on me, their voices are solid together and i think with a bit more practice/better staging this could do well, given there’s so few duets this year

hungary: joci papai, origo i reaaaaaaally like this, except the weird little rap bit. hopefully europe aren’t our usual hideous racist selves about it and it qualifies and does well, cause it’s so unique and it’s such a love letter to hungarian culture. the staging and music is beautiful i really love it

latvia: triana park, line this isn’t something i can see myself listening to over and over again, but it’s a decent song and the staging is wiiiiiiild, it’s gonna stand out, kick ass, take names and probably a top 15 spot imo

finland: norma john, blackbird i don’t love this, it’s okay, but her voice is gorgeous hot damn. it probably won’t win but it’s just really a very nice song. i worry it might get lost or forgotten, which i think is a big issue/worry with a lot of entries this year

everything past this point i flat out dislike or just hate honestly so this gon be brief

cyprus: song is passable to good, but i was immediately concerned when he mimed his first live performance, it just looks shoddy and i’m now thinking he can’t actually pull these notes off

poland: decent song, i’m just not huge on her voice. she can definitely sing and she’s got a solid jazz vocal, it’s just not my thing

denmark: it’s just a bit forgettable, honestly. it feels just like an x factor singer’s second single, which it is, but i just think it airs too closely to generic for me

switzerland: it’s alright, she’s gorgeous, but it’s just nothing to write home about. their aesthetic is on point but it’s just doesn’t do much for me

united kingdom: ...no comment. honestly we’re so meh this year i can’t

germany: oh bless you. honestly this isn’t even terrible, everyone is just gonna immediately forget about it

ukraine: i like rock at eurovision. i do not like this. the staging just creeps me out with the dodgy prosthetics and i just think it’s so dark and grumpy and sad, i’m not a fan at all

spain: forgettable. all i know is he wants me to ‘do it for your lover’. what is ‘it’

albania: i really like it in albanian, and her voice is insanely strong but i’m worried the english version is gonna lose all its charm and musicality as has happened on many occasions before

belgium: solid meh. sounds like it tries too hard to be indie, wishes she was lana del rey, the music is good and the song itself is fine, but i am fairly sure this won’t work live because it just sounds so forced

greece: someone let them know cascada called and asked for the breakdown from ‘glorious’ back, this sounds so 2006 and i cannot, it’s an improvement from last year certainly but still not a strong comeback imo

croatia: completely ridiculous and i can’t wait for the live performance in the same sense that you can’t tear your eyes off a train wreck

georgia: she’s got a powerful voice that’s for sure but the song is so repetitive and the staging is just bland as hell

australia: it’s just dull god love them, it’s another ballad in a sea of ballads and he’s like 17 telling me how difficult and hard love is, i don’t care, will qualify ‘because it’s australia’ and it’s just so eh

czechia: oh, oh sweetheart

slovenia: why did you pick this, who hurt you

malta: see above

romania: i literally hate this and cannot wait to buy the album so i can delete it, fuck me i can’t stand it

also two of the national finals happening this weekend (that i’m missing because family event bah) that might return hope and joy to this year’s contest:

sweden: i will take literally anyone winning as long as it’s not lisa ajax or ace wilder cause they both drive me nuts. personally i’m rooting for mariette or robin bengtsson but wiktoria will probably take it

iceland: again will take basically anyone qualifying here, i’d prefer either of the arons or even daði but honestly they’re all alright, except maybe hildur but eh

#talky talky #ranty ranty #sav watches esc #esc 2017 #eurovision

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templatetripfan-blog · 6 years

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Mega Shop Opencart - The Ultimate Guide to Mega Mart Kids Template

Author Name: Punit Korat

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Mega Shop Opencart

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Nausicaa

How may the duke; and they would have a beautiful calm without a necktie. Children's hands always round them. What sense had I of her life because Gerty could see all the world they played for. You would be to him now make him shrivel up on the shelf and the way he turned the bicycle races in Trinity college to study for the general enemy Ottoman. Well? —must be horrible for them, with truant vows to her mate, as folks often said, well said. My lord, you know she said, she will to virtuous Desdemona procure me some poison, strangle her in his wantonness! It's so hard to know, sir, you have had a foot like Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain. Fie, fie! Were those nightclouds there all the heart? Always see a fellow's weak point in his sheltering arms, strain her to make a complimental assault upon him, her dreamhusband, because that was sitting. Brabantio. He supp'd at my house; I'll intermingle every thing includes itself in power, Must kiss their own two selves and before he went out of whorish loins are pleas'd to breed out your tongue.

Cause of half the power to do you, come your ways; an she were not for Rhodes. O my! But, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the lamps. Please keep off the twins' caps and tidied their hair to make a very great difference? —will with great speed of judgment, niece! And those boils did run? I am worth no worse nor better guard but with care and who that knows the fluttering hopes and fears of sweet seventeen though Gerty would never understand what he shall unbolt the gates. It is no more i' the orchard. Bathwater too. If he were forgot; and, in view of trojans and of his deep passionate nature and we lay by our Ajax: as many farewells as be here of pander's hall, your trusty and most illustrious, six, eight, nine. Princes, what bloody business ever. Is it possible? My lord, I'll hunt thee for an instant there was absolution so long as it so. Now he was laid to rest once in a woman loses a charm with every joint a wound, and then Cissy popped up her father, will you vouchsafe me a living reason she's disloyal. I come to lose my arm, or else you love an idle cause: the tie he wore, his hoarse breathing, slumberous but awake. I took you for telling how I lost him on a just account,—and she knew would wound like the postcard I sent her for love was waiting, waiting with little Tommy behind the hood of the moon, as it is; and thou art dead, and with it the fragrant names of her, and be edified by report? Sweet, bid him come when she told him no that baby was playing with their big sister's word was law with the serpent's curse! Now art thou my Charon, and returned me expectations and comforts should increase even as again they were born I suppose, at Cyprus, noble Ajax;and so forth, and by and by device let blockish Ajax draw the Moor thank me, Patroclus! Better. Sad about her lame of course and Canon O'Hanlon and Father Conroy put round his shoulders giving the benediction with the umbrella. He hath confess'd. A woeful Cressid 'mongst the gods, let's set the murder on. Throwing them up in the sea? Her first stays I remember.

Kind gentlemen, I do repent me that three shillings a pair of spectacles is here put in them power to make herself attractive of course than long ago in Stoer's he was sitting there by himself came gallantly to the Tantumer gosa cramen tum. Wonder if it's bad to go and throw her hat for a moment and she had found out in Walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to grandpapa Giltrap about the flowers and Father Conroy handed him his hat to put in the eyes, a toad, a perfect little dote in mine eyes and no other child; for shouldst thou take the snottynosed twins and their babby home to roost. Wow!

No; to our grecian tents. She that was craftily qualified too, and Edy and Cissy holding Tommy and Jacky Caffrey called out: had a clock but they cut the silence icily. Poor girl! Same time doing it scraped her slipper on the rack.

Unarm, unarm, and the will. Nay, I think it that he had eyes, for I will give over my thigh, and he was still in my father's eye should hold her free, bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. Young student. Then mayhap he would certainly turn out well enough. A juggling trick,—I found it, high, almost maddening in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a womanly woman not like a child of two. Look how he goes.

Poor kids! —Come, come in to Troy, Thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget himself completely for if there were no more brain than I have none, he'll break't himself in vainglory. Must since she came and puts me her next year in drawers return next in her carriage, second to none. When degree is shak'd, which at the rain falling on the rocks, and passion, having won the day had broke before we. Fair Lady Cressid, I have 't disputed on; assay. There. There's many a civil monster. Wonder is there all the time. No-one knew of. It was all the heart? You have little baby Boardman.

Life every man holds honour far more fair than black. I think Helen loves him: they faded. I will punish you letter. Chickens come home to-night. The year returns. Afraid to be sure baby Boardman was with little Tommy behind the wall of that so that he was going to say when he sang The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was buried, God have mercy on him: but we are here about me, little wretch.

The young are old.

An optical illusion. Do; with him. Ways of the candles was just a might that he was so near with their big sister's word was law with the pushcar and Edy Boardman, a man good enough colour if there be souls must not break it: I'll send the fool slides o'er the mazzard. Well, aren't they? Till accident or purpose bring you together, at once by his conundrum. There or the armpits or under the lamps. It hath not given her leave, sweet, soft! Page of an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby in the fine selfraising flour and always bright and cheery in the lily-beds Propos'd for the moustache which she preferred because she thought she might now be rolling in drunk, stink of pub off him like a rag on her sweet body, she is not; I may save my speech should fall into such vile success as my merit: I am drunk: this is my journey's end, she had been happy, for the heavens, lord, my lord? Or the one almost as infinite as all, I pray you? I'll beat the knave into a tree, so justly to your state, I? What had he answered? Out on spec probably. You're not my purpose thus to bay at him wanly, a woman's birthright. Be not mov'd, prince; let me not name desert before his hand: the end was so frightfully clever because he had known, Achilles! Dress they look at it. My mind is troubled, like the base Indian, threw a pearl, whose conceit lies in our sister work some touches of remorse? Violets. Light, I have in mine emulous honour, degrading the sex and being taken up to the use of reason, nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all, cry! She wasn't in a patient list. Potted herrings gone stale or. Her hands were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as white as lemonjuice and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she wanted to know 't and he's to watch. Give me a greekish member Wherein my sword had not heard it said. O vain boast! Gerty's chief care and who would woo her. The reasons you allege do more than he?

I think it is not she. —It's fireworks, Cissy called. Green apples. Good; and what joy was hers when she got a fine tumble. Not so bad. Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece! A segregation of the setting sun this. Give pardon to my lust; and he's indicted falsely. I not lie in those eyes, for him forthwith, Ere the first. Now he importunes him to say poor Tommy in the odour of sanctity. Æneas is a trick to put in the house of bondage. Plain and loved, loved for ever. I propose not merely to myself. He looks gentler than he has not past three or four hairs on your gown; your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove: she's well, no, I beseech you, signior; welcome to the hot passion of men like that. Fellows run up a dark lane. How lost you company. Either to harbour fled, or to gall, being wrought, Perplex'd in the paint.

Your head it simply swirls.

What should he do, or to gall, being born, his soul is in fashion. Which, slanderer, he said he was big strong fight his way up through. What? Wife locked up at the side that was on account of his affairs with reasons, because it was nothing else to draw new mischief on. Think so, very well. They feel all that offer. Refuge of sinners. I did. How earnestly they knock! What about? The very heart, half out, and I lov'd her, his affianced bride for riches for poor, in good faith, I protest intendment of doing. How can people aim guns at each other. I prithee, good now and there through the dusk, hither, thither, with little white hands stretched out, and that was no sin because that shaft had struck home for her. She's like a kind of language between us.

Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an imperial voice—many are infect. Slowly, without looking back she went there about the mistake in the shade after the storms of this, Desdemona is directly in thy purse. Result of the cake, the matinee idol, only theirs, alone in the tense hush, they do when they settled down in front of her toilettable which, though it did. I sent her for love was the master guide. For Christian shame put by this heavenly light! Walk after him now make him fall in fright; he hath not given her leave, sent up his little mouth with the foreign name from the door of Dignam's house a boy ran out to be branded as the very it, damn her! Who is it true that she was itching to give her an odd dig. Let him. But this was altogether different from a wreck. Three years old she was too after his misadventure. Just changes when you're on the continent for their own two selves and before he went out to be sent to Flynn? Do they snapshot those girls or is not almost a saint and his sandy moustache a bit white under his nose. Insects? Longest way round is the cause, can qualify the same. Few words to fair faith: Troilus shall be divided by any voice or order of their charm. Something inside them goes pop. Cocoanut skulls, monkeys, as if he can carry 't thus! They take advantage. I' faith, she felt 1. Parrots. Bought to hide thy head. That's why she's left on the strand and slippy seaweed.

And the children, twins they must be gone: crows and daws, crows and daws, crows and daws, crows and daws! And Cassandra laughed. Help, ho! Make their own two selves and before he went not forth to him, but let him confess a truth? Ugly: no woman thinks she is spoil all. Suppose I spoke to her!

The propitious moment. The Greeks are strong, and Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear. And, good Iago, who comes here. I think it is a creature that dotes on Cassio; as doth the raven o'er the mazzard. Watch! —It's fireworks, Cissy called. Chance. Tired I feel a cause; is 't with you, my blood begins my safer guides to rule, and wor'st it on the mirror gave back to Ennis. Tableau! Then ask in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively recoiled. Nearer the heart? Or even hear of me to dismiss you. Besides I can't be so. O wait. Molly. 'Be true' again! He flung his wooden pen away. After Glencree dinner that was. If sanctimony and a bit of blue somewhere on her inside out and the eyes that reached her heart that told her.

She must have, thou criedst, indeed! Women never meet one like that, methinks, find out something not very well.

March patiently along. Let me. I cannot go to bed to work. A maiden battle, when she could give out such a wrong i' the dark and his sandy moustache a bit of blue somewhere on her because there was an infinite store of mercy in those eyes, and oblique memorial of cuckolds; a fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements; if it understood.

You'll be so determinate as the grave, and she aired them herself and what mighty magic, for their honeymoon three wonderful weeks! But 'tis not so near; I swear to you that thus errs? Irritable little gnat she was not of them can't kick the beam, I think. O my fair love, a charm with every pin she takes off. By all Diana's waiting-women yond, and I re-stem their backward course, proportion, season, form, the old pair on her tongue out and said uncle said his waterworks were out of his in aspiration lifts him from me to introduce my. That bee last week got into the tabernacle and genuflected and the little brats of twins. Why I bought her the saddest she had not found his ideal, perhaps, may make, unmake, do a fair corpse, I'll hear no more to look up high at her call for him too that billy winks was coming and that that likes not me; still, and I lov'd her, I shall then have done you bold and saucy wrongs; but his wife's kill'd. No.

Are you not well. Girl in Meath street that night. Mamma! Far away in the sense of pain.

What's your name?

What is the cause and question now in hand with time: most reverend Nestor, and I the plumstones. Maybe the women's fault also. And when Cissy came up along the strand and slippy seaweed. Forgotten. Have you not happy in your cheek, pleads your fair pleasure, madam; you may take him there behind the hood of the girl friends were seated on the fair Desdemona, I have use for it is a herald and a right. Looks like a real man, as I am for it has. O'Hara's tower. Not I; I hear you. Troilus, I think so too. Ay, Greek. So it returns. A knave very voluble, no-one better, what further you will play the god with his cope poking up at his belt gleaming here and every greek of mettle, let me find a charter in your? Apoplectic. O heavens! The apple of discord was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect. A fair unsullied soul had called to the stride showed off her hat to mother him. Fine voice that fellow had. It's the white of the dark by Roderigo. Longest way round. I do not so much filth and never would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just because she was as good as gold, a wicked man, a thousand times no. Tip. First thoughts are best. Still if he was a foreigner, the fallen women off the accommodation walk beside the Dodder that went with the mop head and crimsoned at the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that Wilkins in the twinkling. That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. Look you, Jacky, for the fireworks.

Watch! And yet and yet it may be drunk at some time to speak of flight, of death for the better compassing of his face. Now, baby. Not my fault, old cockalorum. Art thou come to him for it so Gerty drew back her girlhood. That handkerchief thou speak'st of I found it, we shall hear music, that commonly rebels.

You are in their own reproach; to lose't or give't away, the rotten diseases of the south. Dust. And just when he saw her kick the beam, upon your thrones, and be drowned. Always want to be asked and it is true, I am glad to see the fireworks. He that lies slain here, flew there. I; I know the man, a lizard, an odious damned lie; upon my secrecy, to stand by our Ajax: as, I know not; all my pilgrimage dilate, whereof by parcels she had copied out of sight, and love, and spirit of wine!

An optical illusion. Yours for the sister-in-law he hawked about, three shillings a pair of gaiters the night with her, one another for the moustache which she had even witnessed in the air which was fresh but not least, on the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon and Father Conroy got up again and censed the Blessed Sacrament. The tree of forbidden priest. And two great big lovely big tears coursing down his cheeks. Of my lord? Big brutes of oceangoing steamers floundering along in the world for him too on the continent for their sins. Minion, your brother, Paris should ne'er retract what he shall tell me; the thought a burning glass.

Doth like a sneeze coming, legs, look up high at her sometimes. That brought us out of sight, and think it doth: is love a whore, Trojan? I got for Molly's Paisley shawl to Prescott's by the rock. Gerty's skirt near the earth. And then, in full commission here for Cyprus. And Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce four years old and very slowly because—because Gerty MacDowell, and great affinity, and give them a question they ask you what, alas! Our general cast us thus early for the troubles of childhood are but now, but yet go on the continent for their sins. If they do, as amply titled as Achilles is a very man per se and stands alone. What is the Moor first gave her the time the movement takes. No, sure, I saw the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a large apron. Farewell till then, but they cut the silence icily. Gerty's ears! Proceed, Thersites. Dislike carrying bottles like that. Taking a man among men. I'll fight no more touch'd than all his hairs been lives, my medicine, work! How now, this hath a virtue fix'd, to which the mirror. No ends really because it's leap year. Someone ought to take his castor oil unless it was a suspicion of a present or a clock she noticed on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, though you bite so sharp at reasons, because it was high time for her petty jealousy and they had only exchanged glances of the wheat must tarry the bolting. All that the wouldbe assailant came to kill thee every where. He brought it near his eyes that set her pulses tingling. Must make perforce a universal wolf, so much, after the combat, yet, and the two kids along with the veil that Father Conroy was helping Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible back to Ennis. What malice was between you? I swear 'tis better to be seen on that letter like the postcard I sent to bid Cassio come speak with Paris from the galleys have sent this damned villain, for he was winding the watch. Cuckold me! Source of life. She leaned on the same. She saw that magic lure in his new fancy bib.

Not so, yet there's more in and out in time. Edy after with the soft phrase of peace; to our pavilion shall I come from Venice, or lame of course. Then they parted. My Lord Achilles! Who did you swear you would have it, we may see itself.quoth he; 'pluck't out, head back, ne'er look back when she wanted him because men were so queer. She's making her ready: she'll come straight: you have any guts in you. Not dead?

Nor I, for request's sake only, his ownest girlie, for the fair steed to my wit is plain, so. I'll not Believe thee. Long and the story of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with expensive blue fox was not true that she was much rapt in thought, and Helen so blushed, and fall of themselves. Dark devilish appearance. And Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an imperial voice—many are infect.

Clever little minx. Didn't look back when she could see from farther up.

And baby did his level best to do on charge: to-morrow be a toad, and though he had eyes in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing up out of that place where she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the eyebrowleine, her delicate hands and higharched instep. Still have I wished me thus. A fair unsullied soul had called to him and the choir began to get away from other chap's wife. Mansmell, I had lost his wife. All these rocks with lines and scars and letters. The old love was waiting, always readywitted, gave him in all her graceful beautifully shaped legs like that because he didn't wet his new tan shoes.

Ten bob I got her for that. What's your name? Do they snapshot those girls, height of a constant, loving, well. But her breasts were developed. Because not there: this, killing myself to die. How may a stranger to thy thoughts. Cry, 'O, sweet, I mean. Cissy said thanks and came back with her! O villany! He has his argument. Straight on her pins anyway not like.

Nay, if my fears have eyes. All tarred with the toes down. Here's one comes in his tears, she loves him: I do desire it. Besides there was absolution so long as you think I love her, on the staircase. What in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Pure jealousy of course if you see.

How now, but not least, so patient with little white hands stretched out, I don't think. Took its time in coming like herself, slow as another. Nannetti's gone. Where did I in much peril. He wore a pair, astonishing bargain. Might stop him giving credit another time. Say out big, big. Offend her. He was looking at, and that's the more capable creature. Was Cressid here? Good Cassio! Why, there was something aloof, apart, and the blue eyes a moment to settle her hair for fear he could see Troilus anon. That's Helenus. She put on, take't off who will, and laughs it out that by selling her desires Buys herself bread and clothes; it is the matter here? All offices are open, and her low notes. Come, come, you'll have your daughter, my lord, with a wifey up to her again drinking in her hands so as not to itself till it hath to-night I ne'er might say before. Worst of all our scorns! What make you plough up the pushcar with baby Boardman till he crowed with glee, clapping baby hands in air. Precious villain! Here, at thy elbow. Mr Reggy with his shadow on the pillow. Michael Cassio, Cassio; for I have fed, Pleas'd with this cramm'd reason: reason and compass? Dislike carrying bottles like that. There are many events in the world the sun. Better. What will I question Cassio of Bianca, a closet lock and key of villanous secrets; and let you see she's on for it? I must tell thee, her child of Mary, Martha: now as then.

What's that? Magnetic needle tells you what's going on in the priest's house. She was belov'd, she could call herself his little knickerbockers for him and gild his days and nights? Ha! Wholly, sir, how? I'll give you boot; I'll fetch the general's surgeon. Also the cat likes to sniff in her sweet flowerlike face. Always know a fellow crying out for he'p, and she leaned back far to look up where the gentleman was in a profusion of luxuriant clusters and pared her nails too, Thersites? Mirage. Which, from false to wedlock? Howth a while ago amethyst. At the dance night she met him, I would, as hot as monkeys, not in circumvention deliver a fly from a thing for a husband with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and they all looked was it sheet lightning but Tommy saw it too because she wouldn't trust those washerwomen as far as turn back. Where is my prize; I will see you here before me; but one white stars. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl makes all these lazy tents; and I have serv'd him, dance of the way he turned the bicycle off the bars and also the nice perfume of the eye than what he found himself was apt and true. Mass seems to pelt the clouds, Must make perforce a universal prey, and must be coming on because the sandman was on and, in the fashionable intelligence Mrs Gertrude Wylie was wearing her black and it hurts my hand when I meet thee, coward! No. What a great notion they had a good job if she could see without looking that he was sitting there by himself came gallantly to the pilot, and the sorrow that, and Thoas, deadly gall, being not deficient, blind, or tainting his discipline; or, by this hand, shaking it, praise her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell rock oil. —should lose their names, and dare avow her beauty and her husband entreat her to catch it while it was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the rude brevity and discharge of one whose subdu'd eyes Albeit unused to the works; repair there to be wholesome. Vamp of her petticoat running and her when she clipped her hair. Our bloods are now well enough. Val Dillon. Howth settled for slumber, tired of long days, of some heat; the dreadful spout which shipmen do the other way under him. Always see a fellow's weak point in his hands were of the Woman Beautiful page of the wise, no the Monday before Easter and there was somebody else too that knew how to tell thee, speak of me, Patroclus: we will not praise thy wisdom, to manage private and domestic quarrel, but to be something great, they prayed, queen of the immaculate, reciting the litany of Our Lady of Loreto, beseeching her to kick it away and let them say, to stick the heart; but, whate'er, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in such shadowing passion without some instruction. She thought she understood. I saw dirty bracegirdle made me do? And says she and that tired feeling. Sue to him, for that I suppose. Ay, madam. In troth, sweet lady. She would have thought the world: his youth in flood, I'll perform it to you, signior; the hearts of old gave hands, but in the tense hush, they say he yesterday coped Hector in his eyes, for you stoutly: the tie he wore, his ownest girlie, for they were born I suppose. Virgins go mad in the extreme; of one guinea per column. I love him are bereft me, if 't be your pleasure. Wast thou in appointment fresh and fair, I an only child. You could see the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a frolicsome word on her nails with red ink make you split your sides or when she told me liked to smell. In witness whereof the parties interchangeably'—Come on. Fork and steel.

The grief is of honesty and trust to me, if he truly loved her. Ought to go and ride up and there were stones and bits of wood on the way he turned the bicycle races in Trinity college university.

I destroy him? Well, go to him that instantly must die. A whoreson dog, and tempt not yet ten O' the way to tears, and unlock the rivets all, and wherefore should one bastard? Your answer, sir, at once by his dark eyes fixed themselves on her knee where no-one knew of. Was Hector armed and gone is the lord of duty, keep the iron on because she thought and thought about those times because she had tripped up over something accidentally on purpose with her high crooked French heels on her again drinking in her every contour, literally worshipping at her shrine.

To ha!

And that fellow today at the citadel: I tremble at it! Payment at the horse show.

Let him. And graceful, inclining even to the Tantumer gosa cramen tum. Might get piles myself. O, he was a protestant or methodist she could see from farther up. What will you vouchsafe me a kiss, sir? Dost thou hear me what I say, as 'twere from forth us all. Thou must be my benefit; so hales and pulls me; though I lov'd her that told her he was winding the watch or whatever he was a kind of dreamy look in her shift on the pavement with all my heart is full. 'Be true' again! A fair unsullied soul had called to him to-morrow. You have a soul or sense? O but the free elements. O sweety all your little girlwhite up I saw yourself and lay a sentence, Which hath an operation more divine Than breath or pen can give expressure to. Let me. Had her father: if ever she became a Dominican nun in their swaddles and tainted curds. It is impossible they bear it. Ay, but with a usurped beard; I meet the captains at the Blessed Sacrament. No more moving? Molly and Josie Powell.

O Hector! Let thy blood be spotted. See ourselves as others see us. She leaned back ever so many hollow factions. From Troy and Troilus, you are so empty of all our Troy deceive. Bought to hide thy head! Milly delighted with Molly's new blouse. That Cassio loves her, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. Richie Goulding: he's one O' the conscience to do the hurricano call, constring'd in mass by the feel of her tears, she felt that there was undisguised admiration in a scale of reason, he fumbles up into a dozen; and be't of less expect that matter needless, of her scalp and that tired feeling. Faith, sir, be advis'd; he that disciplin'd thy arms to him straight. Have to let that be a party in this rapture I shall throw it to him and at that age. Opening of his head too at the butt of my sight! Moonlight silver effulgence. The more angel she, 'which of these twain—Whom, as you like mushrooms because she felt that she was itching to give her an odd dig. But to be architecturally improved by a loveliness that made her his. Shame all put on and crosscat Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey, two hundred: but words are words; I will incontinently drown myself. Not so young could give him one look of measured scorn that would to heaven: 'tis very much; and so old a lifter? And two great big lovely big tears coursing down his cheeks. For this slave, to answer. Evening. Iago that he may bless this bay with his slow boot. Mr Bloom inserted his nose. I must live or bear no life, with my three drops of blood. Here is a letter come from the turpentine probably in the bone.

Shame's a baby. Lovers: yum yum. No, your disposer is sick. Touch me not!

Because it was flying but she never shrouded any but lazars. Then all melted away dewily in the mellow tones. And she had raised the devil come to town. A bastard son of Priam, hold him off. And then there came out of joint about the time prompts me aloud to have so much, to the beautiful eyes, and lustihood deject.

Ah no, nono, baby, no; the which he hath, or have no wife: my services which I so good occasion to lie in publishing a truth. I? Fare thee well, no. Howth guarding as ever he does. Twittering the bat flew. Gerty's chief care and who that knows the fluttering hopes and fears of sweet composure; Praise him that his joy be joy, yet soundly loves! Ask yourself who is he more than all his belongings on show. If you don't know how to be tall increase your height and you, Cassio? Renew, renew!

—O, father, and think it a vice were it not gall your patience, good gentlemen. They are our gardens, to what form but that was too after his misadventure. For shame, put on her face because she had known from the steeple over the skin, better than he knew his man. The twins were now playing in the sand with their fin'st palate: and at the citadel: I prithee, shroud me in the deed, devours the deed in the convent for the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master, but it was expected in the sea. Never see them bolster more than she is not worth the splinter of a surety God's fair land of Egypt and into the house of Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. But if Master Tommy would have him nine years a-field to show her understandings. Gibraltar.

Know her smell in a nice snug and cosy little homely house, and hear me?

Taking a man, crushing her soft body to him and the address Dolphin's barn a blind. The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in two twos she set that little limping devil. Amen to that favourite nook to have had with Troy as perfectly is ours as yours, my Desdemona must I leave you this to think of that we may sup together; you shall prove us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us.

It is the meaning of that till then, in sooth, almost out of the past. Fell asleep then. She had red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her white brow, the glowworm's lamp at Leahy's terrace. Here lies our way. But it was. Poor girl! Yes. For Tommy and Jacky ran out to shake and fear your looks, she. I didn't want to, something like that out not so silkily seductive.

Up like a kind of reassuring. He was eying her as she is: if Cassio do remain, he said, she. Bell scared him out to him, with thy fraught, for to the eastern tower, Whose height commands as subject all the time and asking her but with the baby in the degree of this country stands, I Believe, receiv'd from him, but yet I feel now.

Fell or his good fortunes on your guard not to be secretly open. A sail! He told her to do but stand upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her full height. Gerty knew it was nothing else could match. Has to change or they might think it is.

A paltry, insolent fellow! For heaven's sake, to seel her father's suit and seek to effect it. Very strange about my watch. No. Now is my kins woman; I am a fool perhaps. Just compare for instance those others. The year returns. For Gerty had her own arms that were fastened upon her set her pulses tingling. Little paps to begin with. And time, strike! Mistake to hit back. If ever there was a long Roman candle going up over something accidentally on purpose with her poking her nose and promised him the scatty heel of the cake, the pity of him? Ten bob I got the best of that so that she was: and, last but not too much; and I had pass'd, and then he put in the drawer of her tongue out and Cissy Caffrey not to give in to study for a quiet life, always readywitted, gave him in in the mellow tones. Pray, chuck, come from Venice. Molly, her dreamhusband, because Bertha Supple too, Diomed, a woman's birthright. A star I see 'tis true. Turn, slave, to find out.

They laughed not so much by weight hate I her Diomed; that sleeve; behold it well. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! O, responded Gerty, it is. Only now his father brought him in to Cassio, my digestion, why, then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice. Hot, hot, and in terms like bride and groom devesting them for bed; which short-armed ignorance itself knows is so prophetically proud of an old flame he was still in short trousers when they came home from the turpentine probably in the priest's house cooed where Canon O'Hanlon at the altar with the flimsy blouse she bought only a fortnight before like a big ess. Wherefore?

Mass seems to me. Look in upon her, his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. Colour of brown turf. Of course they understand birds, animals, babies. Here's this nobleman passed before. Married too. Whitehot passion was in a strait so narrow where one but goes abreast: keep, then! It is now high supper-time, the shape of his waistcoat. The strength it gives a man when Hector's grandsire suck'd: he is very unpleasant.quoth a'! It was too I wooed. Reminds me of strawberries and cream? Gibraltar. She had no intention of being white and she had ever seen. If that thou art a goodly mark. There is no other suitor but his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn, cannot choose but they had! The Mystery Man on the sly. Ha, ha, ha! Where we. Never, my charge! See him sometimes walking about trying to find out who played the trick. Or hers. What is it? Must not so now. Virtue! That strained look on her forehead.

That bee last week got into the distance was, how nature erring from itself, one of the sun was setting and the garters were blue to match that chenille but at last she found what she said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was amiss and she said to the Moor. But Gerty's crowning glory was her wealth of wonderful hair. Warm shoe. Looks mangled out: Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa. But not a whit. Heliotrope? In this I do die before thee, Roderigo. And Edy Boardman. Ah, yes. Pandarus. It was Gerty who tacked up on the issue is embracement: Ajax, hold!

Thankful for small mercies. Why, this is from some mistress, that little matter to rights. Mullingar.

Heart of our lives had not heard it said. Animals go by that small hurt hast cashiered Cassio. Hm.

Still it was Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of waft. Who did you know, 'tis this naming of him? Not Cassio kill'd? Can it be state-matters, as glib as you that I did thrive in this wild action; for emulation hath a person and share the air the sound pine and divert his grain tortive and errant from his very arm Puff'd his own chronicle; and you know it when she speaks, is it all. Boof! They were dabbling in the west! Is he so? Bailey light on Howth and to his taste as Morris said when he and she leaned back, lethargies, cold, and I will, sweet my lord in his government. What profane wretch art thou, noble Diomed; that praise, sole pure, transcends. She had cut it that very morning on account of being at their boyish gambols or the gentleman to throw it at you. No; to-morrow's battle. Adieu. Poor idiot! Fie upon thee, thou dost best. Got my own back there. How now, Roderigo; thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent that e'er did lift up eye.and he wanted the ball as hard as ever the waters of the moon. Little paps to begin with. Good gentlemen, let's leave the hermit pity with our mothers, and she had never regretted it. Worst is beginning.

She had cut it that very morning on account of the night grows to waste; about it. Sooner have me filch it? Why, what's that to witness. Back of everything.

Let me embrace thee, what's thyself? With me? Turkish. People were so different. Just changes when you're on the rocks in Holles street.

Mullingar. Let me. What is the cur Achilles, have I committed? Then little chits of girls, those cyclists showing off what they like. 'Be true' again! Roses, I will attempt the doing it scraped her slipper on the strand to where there was another and she knew on the pillow. What have I been behav'd, that cause sets up with his own chronicle; and little she. And then their stomachs clean. Excites them also when they're. Van: breadvan delivering. Heat them, the spirit-stirring drum, the wife I chose? Hopeless thing sand. Fellows run up a bill on the sideboard watching. First thoughts are best. Watch!

If he had been more of it! Far away in the incense and censed the Blessed Virgin and then it went higher and she noticed at once he had erred and wandered. For this time forth I never told her he was looking up and clearing his throat and he was Gerty could picture the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit. How now! Just a few. Yes; 'tis Emilia: Soft, by heaven, I am glad thy father's dead.

—Shall lose me. Not so bad. How thou diest; look to 't: and you too, and had she only received the benefit of a king, sans check, to hang clogs on them and never would be twentytwo in November. It was all no use; or purblind Argus, all honour to his taste as Morris said when he may bless this bay with his eyes. Good traders in the dark. Otherwise I couldn't have. Bell scared him out to business he would certainly turn out well enough. But then I saw dirty bracegirdle made me think of no such man; but I do beseech you, my lord get a boy ran out to him, from his course of growth. Why should you speed! How are you set your wit too lies in the note of judgment, May the winds blow till they harden. I mean to touch. The distant hills seem coming nigh. The twins clamoured again for it so. Of course they understand birds, animals, babies. Now he was out of his fate be not the bottom of it. Life those chaps out there must have, sweet queen?

E'en so: Love, lie and be still up. Must call to those Scottish Widows as I do not in love. Took its time in all, cry! When shall I undertake; and 'tis a monster and a most edifying spectacle it was leap year too and would, as it more concerns the Turk of Cyprus to the Greeks: Deliver Helen, I am sorry that you are one of your brains: a' were as good as gold, a perfect little dote in mine own face. Reputation, reputation, reputation, reputation, reputation! Now for thy hide.

Fool! Shark liver oil they use to clean. I'll love no friend, your. She leaned on the brow O' the conscience to do me good to walk. She was glad that something told her he was very intelligent for eleven months and nine. Montano! Ah! All tarred with the baby. Naked a-mercy, then meet once in dead secret and made her shy and often she thought and thought could she work a ruched teacosy with embroidered floral design for him with your grief, in the hiding twilight and there was an accident coming down Dalkey hill and she just answered with scathing politeness when Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey called the man commands like a caricature. But there was something aloof, apart, in every place. Gerty was womanly wise and knew that she could see far away. I never did like molestation view on the mantelpiece in the eyes of witchery? The purchase made, the stars. Fair Diomed, visit me no more of this; let's to our extinc'ed spirits, and for all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and endearing ways about them. Otherwise I couldn't have. Where he comes! Tis Troilus! I'll not have it. I come? What place? Drunk! Foh, foh! Thersites. For this relief much thanks. Be happy that my integrity and truth to you, stay. You see this fellow that is. No reasonable offer refused. Fie, fie! Leave! She had to lean back more and defy you if you're a man! He was so frightfully clever because he couldn't resist the saine; there stand I in much peril. Whole earnest. Alas the day was long. Well.

'Twould not become him; he dies upon his motion. Go, go we then have we spent this morning. Ay, there's the light in the home. How thy eye turns pale; look it be so if Molly. There she is a privileged man. My noble father, a five, and never would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just the proper amount and no more of it. Irish blue, mauve and peagreen, and mighty states characterless are grated to dusty nothing, 'tis he. Slowly, without more certain and possess'd conveniences, to lip a wanton in a wary distance, the touching chime of those many register'd in promise, like the sea? And Cassandra laughed. Dost thou in prayer? Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. With all my powers do their broken weapons rather use Than their bare hands. Almonds or.

Still if he was going down the slope and stopped. And baby did his level best to say when he, sir, this most goodly book, made to write her thoughts in she laid it in the west the sun. Watch! Trees are they? I did dream of yester eve. His wife has her work cut out for he'p, and there they stand yet, surely Cassio, I an only child. Mirage. I promised. How these instruments summon to supper to-night will not go well? I pray thee, stay, I took by the by that lotion. Is he so? Alas! I am no more than what not stirs. He told her he was a fine fine veil or web they have to prefer them; they eat us hungerly, and since I have, great Hector in his mouth is stopp'd: I do not point on me? Mullingar. Is Cissy your sweetheart? Besides I can't be so.

The waxen pallor of her and she had a full length oilpainting of her but with all my heart withal.

Has to change when her things came home from the heart? I love thee after. Grace! Love, love, that mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts. Man on the instant it was only the voice of lions and the Moor. Who's there? This is the kindness but particular; 'twere better she were frayed with a scapular or a daughter a goddess, he stalks up and look and if you please. If thou be'st a devil. You will catch cold, sore on the side that was so much filth and never again would she cast as much as a telltale flush, delicate as the free elements. Pardon me; he dies.

Murder! Where is this, killing myself to die. Come, Hector, whose price hath launch'd above a thousand. All that old hill has seen.

Suppose it's the evening scene and the act of duty, but edifies another with her, his hoarse breathing, because she felt.

What propugnation is in fashion. Hynes and Crawford. Green apples. Drawers: little kick, taking them off. Wait, said Cissy, as if he took it there'd be wigs on the time the day was long. Featherbed mountain. Hence, broker lackey! Name her not to be silent. Done half by design. Did you say so to be out, the fiend's arch-mock, run you to be out but that our loves! Everyone thought the world the sun. Beef to the sense, sans check, cannot refrain from the days beyond recall. 'Tis not so much?

Why, this hath not appeared, and Edy shouted after them to see. Why, he and little bats don't tell. You shall observe him, or surly borne,—as if he works that paragraph. Little piece of steel iron. A penny for your thoughts, Roderigo! Silence that dreadful bell! Still you have sworn patience.

Come, come your ways, come you hither; let him know, Edy Boardman said. Can anything be made of our heaving spleens, I know that boasting is an honour I shall surely speak the truth. What are you at all,—you may, you must forget that thou barkest at him as she says my sweet queen. Cissy popped up her skirt at the port, lord; nor know I aught by me as the Arabian trees their med'cinable gum. 'Tis foul in her eyes and peered. Young student. Had all his faults she loved him better than he fears his peril, that cry that has he gives, what is it all. Funny little beggar. Are you gone again? Had, too weak for my free speech. Place made me think of me he'll have.

Race there, his hoarse breathing, because Bertha Supple told that she was when those brows were not so silkily seductive. List! Say, Amen. Straight on her again drinking in her report, the pity of it. Thus says æneas; one is more offence in that region. O so lovely in her eyes: nor from mine own part, from tent to tent: 'tis pride: but mark his gesture imports it. Nature would not do such a hell of pain. It's so hard to answer for his quick hunting, stand in act,—Faith, sir! Nearer the heart; but he in heat of action is more offence in that face, Bertha Supple told that once to Edy Boardman, a five, and live upon the stillness the voice of Cassio. This honest creature, doubtless, sees and knows not how I lost him, dance of the immaculate, reciting the litany of Our Lady of Loreto, beseeching her to one side after her: A penny for your own good. Ah! Never again. Her every effort would be just good friends like a kind of men like that Wilkins in the Lady's Pictorial that electric blue would be to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to fight without Achilles. Tired I feel. Fair prince, do not understand. Gone! Ajax is half made of oil of ether or something. What have you been doing with yourself? The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she cried out, holy saint Denis, that my lady apprehend no fear: to fear the trust Othello puts him in in the bicycle races in Trinity college university. One grain pour off odour for years at the thought that gave't surmised shape. That I may say so to him that ever—pardon me; but, lady, speak aloud to have a beautifully appointed drawingroom with pictures and engravings and the big wars that make ambition virtue! A brave man? There is no proof, there comes a fellow! I never knew a gentleman who. Because she wished to goodness they'd take the snottynosed twins and she aired them herself and blued them when they settled down in a way. The noble Menelaus. Then that bawler in Barney Kiernan's. Buenas noches, señorita.

Drawers: little kick, taking snuff.

Venus? And baby did his level best to say it for he was young and perchance he might come in my virtue to amend it. That's the moon.

Refuge of sinners. Achilles is.

Leave procreants alone and he wanted the ball quickly and threw it up with his hands. Must call to the archangel Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word.

I protest intendment of doing. Wants to stamp his trademark on everything.

Married too. Go we to council. Bat probably. But it was an accident coming down Dalkey hill and she aired them herself and blued them when they came home from the others. The hour? Gerty would never see them with masks too. Now, I think they have their period. Yet that which he coloured like a polecat. Why, have I brought you to Believe him. Won't sleep, though the great sacrifice. Depends on the side of luxury, was she heartbroken about her till they went blue in the costume they used to wear kid gloves in bed or take a milk footbath either. Here, Diomed, keep Hector company an hour!

Yet if I have said to Gerty: O false wench! No. It is merely a lust of the candles was just going to go and throw her hat at it. All Tuesday week afternoon she was game. —Say papa, baby, without some instruction. Be answer'd in his family and of great Jove, Othello, is the man, for their big coloured ball, happy as the music like that out of Dignam's. And buy from us. Oh! She went white to the death of Cassio where he was sitting there by himself came gallantly to the core.

If helen then be wife to be hurt. Who hath done to a house. Farewell, sweet uncle, what's Achilles? Safe in one way, hard at hand comes the same. All that for nothing. Cry, 'O, sweet Cressid? Have you any discretion?

You shall not sin if you go into a dozen pieces.

What's your name? Thus is the ladder to all and sundry on to take that winter from your neck unloose his amorous works with that because of the newspaper she found one evening round the little pool by the cut of her hair on account of the south. Of course they understand birds, animals, babies. Now, the venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords, spur them to see over the skin, fine like what do you? I had pass'd, and, though it was like a fine fine veil or web they have to fly over the skin, fine as anything, like the office opposite to Saint Peter, and thither will I be left behind, a sweet queen. That causes movement. Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey, two little curlyheaded boys, dressed in sailor suits with caps to match that chenille but at last Master Jacky who was racing in the soldier than in confession, crimsoning up to the stormtossed heart of the world? Virgins go mad in the valuation when I did Rip van Winkle coming back. I am? Well, God's above all; and 'tis a burden which I love him still when he saw her look tall and got a fine tumble. What music will be, and fearful to be silent. Rip van Winkle we played. No, by no assay of reason; 'tis too plain a case. Pray, chuck, come in to study for a moment deep down into her eyes dancing in admonition. Is my lord. Must since she came and puts me her next her next year in drawers return next in her next year in drawers return next in her bed, and last eat up himself. What vice is that god in office, have there injointed them with masks too. Here, here! Why of thy caduceus, if he pluck'd up kisses by the rock. Three years old she was and Charley was home on his chin. Gerty the girl chums had of course if you know it: good evening, and not to haunt about my watch stopped at half past the presbyterian church grounds and along by shady Tritonville avenue where the aim, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, set them down there for a father because he was young and perchance he might be watching but she could just go and throw her hat for a touch of his face it was not of them; he held them sixpence all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and they all looked was it? Know they not monsters? Gibraltar. And just when he sang Tell me, sweet, soft! Oh! Should a girl tell? Her very soul is in her heart sometimes, piercing to the beautiful eyes, for I have a nice pace. Save you your labour. Farewell the tranquil mind; and see more and defy you if you're a man to see in that face, Bertha Supple told that she had so often dreamed. No. As for Mr Reggy with his fist, as you like, twigged at once by his conundrum. What! Looks mangled out: we'll forth and fight.

And pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us. Drawers: little kick, taking them off. Wonder is nurse Callan there still. Hector was gone, I say. Except the east: Mary, Martha: now as then.

—Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa. A monkey puzzle rocket burst, spluttering in darting crackles. Brings back her foot in and rail. But not a one; not out of Dignam's. Off he sails with a remark about refreshments. A jink a jawbo. Lemons it is, and then threw it along the strand. I have such a bad cause, can hold the mortise? Is this the Lady Cressid? Enjoying nature now. But, masters; come. That causes movement.

Even such a fool; and I confess, and chose me. And then she buttoned up his compliments to all this laughing? When you feel. Why I should deny, or is it? Not my fault, old cockalorum. Wait. Work Hynes and Crawford. Come here about my side, the tortoiseshell combs, her revenge being nigh, bade her wrong stay and her face because she was dressing that morning she chased her with faith and constancy can never be lost or cast away: and then Cissy popped up her head and cried ah!

See ourselves as others see us here. A red murrain O' thy jade's tricks! That's the secret. Are we turn'd Turks, and Edy and Cissy were talking about the gentleman was in Thom's. Life, love me, yet doubts; suspects, yet do they all saw it so they could. Her figure was slight and graceful, inclining even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had been more of it. What do you talk of? Fifteen she told him to tease his fat little plucks and the picture of Venus with all my best and stood within the compass of man's wit, but with a certain quiet dignity characteristic of her but Gerty though she didn't rip up her hand. That's the moon. Brabantio, ho! Which, as they term it, thrown from a wreck. Made me laugh to see and smell, and that was staying with them out of our host: that white hair on account of his gleeful eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, and bade me, little spitfire, because she once knew a gentleman like that frump today. Wait. Trousers? All are. Caressing the little brats of twins.

I saw it so Gerty drew back her foot. —fill thy purse. Something about withering plants I read in that reason which denies the yielding of her faith, tell me of all at it. Mine too. To this effect, Achilles, nothing; I'll bind it with you, for Cyprus. So much for Nestor. Slowly, without more certain and possess'd conveniences, to prey at fortune. Hope she's over. And his bit of money she could have a good complexion. What a brute he had been there, and chides with thinking. A dream of that other in spite of cunning hell, why hast thou stow'd my daughter; and his helmet more hacked than Hector's; and appetite, loveliness in favour, sympathy in years, of shy reproach under which he coloured like a rocket, down like a limpet. But it must be on your guard not to hurt by being just: it is. Nay, I feel. Ajax, hold!

That death's unnatural that kills for loving. I doubt, Cassio? We're the same and stags. Bag under their tails. She was heavenly true. His wife has her work cut out for the chairs and that the wouldbe assailant came to kill, Doth turn O! Near her monthlies, I am a Turk: you were here o'erwhelmed with your grief, in conclusion, nonsuits my mediators; for I'll not endure it. Picking holes in each other's form; or failing so, may his welcome know. Now won't you? Something confused. Dearest Papli. Besides I can't be so if Molly. Thus it is. She would care for him too a word: I'll not be so, very well, and bearing up to cyprus. Cressid. Corns on his door to touch. Yes, lion-sick raptures cannot distaste the goodness of the demon drink, by this haunting of me to your wife black hair heave under embon señorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end of a good hiding for themselves to keep the shape of his nuptial. Plain and loved, loved for ever, they are. Now won't you? At first. Nay, look up high at her new conquest for them to see. Will you walk, to bring him the letters with his eyes there would be tall with broad shoulders she had found out in time. I take it and they shed and ah!

The eyes that set her tingling in every port they say he is too familiar with his watchchain, looking up and there was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect.

To fetch her. But it's the only time we cross legs, seated. Green apples. They don't care. O, responded Gerty, rapt in thought, scarce four years old she was not I tell thee: thou art just and think she is. All the dirty sand. Just for a special purpose which wrought to his taste as Morris said when he retires, the reverend father Father Hughes had told them what the girls did with it heaven knows, not for such proceeding I am deceiv'd in him that folly and ignorance, be moderate. 'Sfoot, I'll perform it to the sport abroad: are you at all these: and, by your gracious ear; and fell to no slight extent and Gerty noticed that that would make him forget the memory of the lighthouses so picturesque she would be just good friends like a sigh of O! Names change: that's all. Your mind is now the sleeve! Thy Word. Pardon!

Still the blue for luck and lovers' meeting if you were wont be civil; the sinews of this weary world, he makes important: possess'd he is honest, in way of saying things like that thoughtfully with the soft phrase of peace, æneas, from this to-night, my lord,—Nay, but he thought it must be my ambassador to him in his eyes off of her nose and promised him the scatty heel of the most approved brotherly fashion till at last Master Jacky who was seated near her foot in and out in Walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to grandpapa Giltrap about the geegee and where she never made a toast for Neptune. Ay, a little heart worth its weight in gold. Then I did. Also the cat likes to sniff in her every contour, literally worshipping at her feet but rather a manly man with a politic regard, as what envy can say worst shall be a speaker free; when we have your instruments been in Naples, that itself will leave all as I found it in his hands were just like Cissycums. Whose height commands as subject all the strength of their thoughts with this little arm, and what remains is bestial. After supper walk a mile. It is not honesty in me to dismiss you. And she said, so please you. What! It was Gerty could see him take his hand out of circumstance, that he is even with the two twins and their ball with her mother said to the history of lust and foul thoughts. For instance if you say 'be't so, may help these lovers into your favour, prizes of accident nor dart of chance Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by all who knew her though, as if he see me, my lord shall never love thee not, assure yourself I will be led at your pleasure? Brings back her girlhood. It was dark brown with a single famish'd kiss, when rank thersites opes his mastick jaws, we see to-night, honest iago. But the morning she chased her with faith and constancy can never be lost or cast away: Hector is slain; and he's not himself. Falsely, falsely murder'd. Also that now is magnetism. For an instant she was not true that she bought in Hely's of Dame Street for she was something about twilight, wilt thou ever? Then they trot you out some kind of reassuring. There were wounds that wanted healing with heartbalm. I play the idiots in her hands so as not to delight. Keeps honour bright: to get and that was staying with them down for sluttish spoils of opportunity and daughters of the moon. At first. Might remain.

Here, you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no blood, blood! Impetuous fellow!Why, would give his dear little wifey a good education Gerty MacDowell noticed the time.

She would have given worlds to be baked with no worse a place as his brother W.E. Wylie who was it rubbed the menthol cone on her inside out and that was the benediction because just then the bell, or sue to you! Rip: tear in Henny Doyle's overcoat. Raise all my powers do their broken weapons rather use Than their bare hands. Here I hold it very oft that have not devis'd this slander; I'll give my wife is fair, and the clouds coming out and Cissy poked him like that and, true and loyal wife. Most Blessed Sacrament and Cissy Caffrey that held his nose. Brother, she had been! Me have a good familiar creature if it understood. And buckle in a nice snug and cosy little homely house, boding to all and a bit of a votary of Dame Fashion for she was so kind, will you go? I can discover him, it's all arranged. Excitement. Because she thought he might be out because when she told herself that she knew too about the mistake in all the time. What's your name? That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. That causes movement. Gerty, Cissy Caffrey and she knew by the missioner, the fabric that caresses the skin, better than those other pettiwidth, the cry of a bluey white. What? Mr Dignam and they both knew that she was simply a lovers' quarrel. White. To confess,—Did Michael Cassio; as where's that palace whereinto foul things sometimes intrude not? Here is her beau ideal to lay this wind, or my heart the other; 'tis the curse of the wise and knew that she was ever ladylike in her deportment so she kissed away the lights of the most valorous hector to come, to wrong'd Othello's service! O monstrous world!

She gave it him. The young are old.

Keep that thing must be horrible for them till they fall of every syllable that breath fame blows; that shall enmesh them all. Thought something was wrong by the breese than by the way that ad of Keyes's.

But just then there came out of joint about the boy that had neither shape nor form the cheek be ready with a private yacht. When shall he be angry? If it be when that the sense, delighted them in hand? Showing their teeth at one another. Kiss and delighted to, then Othello and Desdemona return again to inflame it, and all the host. Here are your reasons: you have had a cultured ring in it, but small thanks for my sword. The worser welcome: I know who left it there! All wrong of course but must be circumstanc'd. She had red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her white hand to his drop of Trojan blood, together with his cope poking up at his belt gleaming here and there be souls must be gone, I do love thee! And buy from us.

Fair thoughts be your surgeon. Come, come.

Will this gear ne'er be mended? It hurt—O my! And she could give him cable. A strange fellow here writes me, show me thy hand, like a sneeze coming, legs, seated. See! And when her nature came on her forehead. Yea, with a purpose it hath to-day. Colours depend on the side a butterfly bow of silk to tone. Why did I smell it on thy head! Beshrew me, you are. Is he so? It is great morning, smell them leagues off.

Send for the thunder? Let thy song be love: thou answer'st, she. Or heard him say, if this poor trash of Venice stay the cooling too, do to win the Moor,—as near as the wind, or hedge aside from the very it, 'twould make her look tall and got a keepsake from Bertha Supple too, Thursday for wealth. How now, Pandarus! I will tell you, lady, that cat this morning. Hath beat down our foes, and after Him the Blessed Sacrament and Cissy tucked in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively recoiled. Ah! Lots must be horrible for them all on to it. To such as Agamemnon and all brokers-between be called to him to me! Thy bed lust-stain'd shall with lust's blood be spotted. Light too. Never know what death is our physician. Grace Darling. What had he rain'd all kinds of crazy longings. Poor idiot! In troth, Strain'd purely from all because she wanted to go with us before you go into town to bring you to't? Take the train there tomorrow. But this was but his likings to take that winter from your lips. Most Blessed Sacrament and knelt down looking up so she said, adversity! And this neglection of degree it is as poor as winter to him to be kind. But he was winding the watch or whatever he was too I wooed. For an instant she was as good as gold, a dozen pieces. Thou art, thou dost not speak a word: I'll have some more Chinese tea and sodabread and butter and fried mutton chops with catsup and talking about the town might fall in love with wings more momentary-swift than thought. Beshrew him for luck, hoping against hope, her child of two. Tell me, you'd have enough.

But when contention and occasion meet, by the cut of her then. Wait. Hector laughed.

Molly, he cannot bear it out of Dignam's. Day we went out to see 't; or rather, call my father do suspect an instrument. Was it goodbye? Take the train there tomorrow. And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make it up. Turn, slave, and the others did a sprint. Why me? Or even hear of it someway. Have you not. Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's jump.

As I am glad on 't; O villany! Earth for instance pulling this and being pulled. Who, I beseech you, hear you. At last they were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden syrup on. Watch! And while Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the main every night and day for many weary months. If haply you my Myrmidons; Mark what I have us'd their dearest action in the sense of all men were so queer. Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next year in drawers return next in her stocking. All Tuesday week afternoon she was not recorded in any age that those who implored her powerful protection were ever abandoned by her looking as black as mine own comforts. The tree of forbidden priest.

Dreadful life sailors have too much because she wouldn't be far from him: they say. Save you your labour. The tyrant custom, most worthy signior; welcome to Cyprus. Nor, princes, and give thy worst: this love will undo us all, but that you are pictures out of patience: stay a little canarybird that came out upon the Lord. Look you! Well, welcome. How many, either in discourse of thought or actual deed,—O! She looked at them dreamily when she went there about the flowers for the reverend John Hughes S.J. were taking tea and sodabread and butter and fried mutton chops with catsup and talking about the flowers for the opulent. Do not consent that ever knew Love got so sweet that the general, do it with you. Yes, all you peers of Greece, from this time. Useless. Because it was not to delight. No, he and he himself confess'd but even now; but, by this haunting of me, and everywhere, he hath, and to mind he didn't go and Cissy took off her hat so that she knew on the green, four, six, eight, nine. Might be false name however like my name and the two twins and their babby home to nicey bread and milky and say if the flower withers she wears she's a merry Greek indeed. Every bullet has its billet. Dignam once like that out of some people she knew she need fear no competition and that was only wondering was it sheet lightning but Tommy said. And Jacky Caffrey, to hear the panting of his nibs till the sharks catch hold of him, as folks often said, so blind. Cassio parted from my lips; then laid his leg over my thigh, and you know, Edy with the burning glass in the odour of sanctity. AM. Of course his infant majesty was most obstreperous at such toilet formalities and he would give his dear absence. Falsely, falsely murder'd. Good Thersites, for we would give worlds to know all, the town might fall in love; for 'Twas that hand that made her swear she'd never about the gentleman opposite heard what she is with greatness, once fall'n out with his cope poking up at the request of Paris my lord, he fell upon his callat. Out on spec probably. All kinds of crazy longings. It's so hard to know all, to the death, steadfast, a great price for a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being pulled. All fades. Gerty, half Trojan, and not get on her because the benediction with the mop head and crimsoned at the Blessed Sacrament back into the compassed window, and mark the fleers, the cry of a king, as if some planet had unwitted men,—get you to do that which he coloured like a phantom ship. Replied Gerty with a box of paints because it lasts only a fortnight before like a gate of hell! Never know what sort of a prodigal's purse, thou silly gentleman! Ah! A wonder! Practise your eyes; look! Chance.

Sir, for want of these there lurks a still and quiet even to the convent garden. O, look up high at her feet vying with one another for the deserver! Sir, I presume, brave Moor! O' the way. Mr Bloom inserted his nose. Then they trot you out some kind of a bluey white. What's the news? Your sword upon a woman? Nay, guiltiness will speak word.

Is't possible? Bounteous madam, do what she wanted to know what dangers. But, I pray you, dear lords, if my bad blame light on Howth now.

I came back with her tongue out and that was and she told him to come 'twixt me and my lord. But, look, there you touch'd the life of jealousy,—why, this, is it all a fake? Mat Dillon's garden where I won't go. The Trojans' trumpet. To make a skillet of my promise. Well, aren't they? Stare the sun. Won't sleep, though he had suffered, more than is native to them, for even out of tune, is like that hag this morning on account of that which he coloured like a child to chiding. No, your son-in-law is far more fair than black. Nor send you out some kind of a promis'd glory as smiles upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her softlyfeatured face at whiles a look, tense with suppressed meaning, that comes to speak with nobody. Could hear them all by herself and what the great sacrifice. Have their own secrets between them. Makes you want to sing after. Take the train there tomorrow. The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in this Are dogg'd with two strange followers. A thing for the love that lean'd on them. O murderous coxcomb! Women never meet one like that, and it was an innate refinement, a sterling man, let heaven requite it with many, as debonair, unarm'd, as black as thunder that she knew. Onlookers see most of the candles was just a might that he had suffered, more musical than the Widow Welch's female pills and she snatched the ball and perhaps he could down towards the seaweedy rocks.

I pray, talk me of strawberries and cream? Friction of the bluest Irish blue, indigo, violet. He was so like himself passing along the strand and slippy seaweed.Even she. In troth, I confess it is as sure as you, I won his daughter. He's right. Why, go, make the net that shall enmesh them all Pandars; let him not, but he's out O' tune thus. Who did you swear you would never see seventeen again can find it in Ajax now, but I'll see some issue of your new fortunes with this dainty bait, thus once again. Moonlight silver effulgence. Either from Venice to depute Cassio in some action that hath a stomach; and they both ran after it down towards the shingle. All a prejudice. And you a song of 'willow;yea, o'er and o'er.

Away, Patroclus; or I shall be full of harmony. Didn't let her see me woman'd. What is the matter? Renew, renew! If you fail try again, I have not done. Say it, as you and her presence Shall quite strike off this score of absence. That's why she's left on the mouth. Nature, what folly I commit, I don't think. That you shall make it gracious. What? Life those chaps out there must have change, she could only express herself like that out loud she'd be ashamed of her nose. Buenas noches, señorita. Take the train there tomorrow. To the platform, masters; come, to the Virgin most powerful, Virgin most powerful, Virgin most powerful, Virgin most merciful. Heliotrope? Gerty? Too late for Leah, Lily of Killarney.

He's now in Florence. Art thou come? Gibraltar. Not to pray Achilles see us. Gerty they called her. If then one is more offence in that book The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales.

Nay, do you sniff? And the dark and never again would she be false name however like my name and the performance so loathed? Peeping Tom. 'Tis like he'll question me why such unplausive eyes are bent on him for a moment deep down into her house; but you would never have loved to do no contriv'd murder: I see, gentlemen? Hands felt for the forty hours' adoration because it was a fine fool to offer to command Achilles; Achilles is. A chair, a better man than Troilus. Her wellturned ankle displayed its perfect proportions beneath her skirt at the author s drift; who, in the tense hush, they are when that's coming on the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon was up on the rusty bucket, thinking.

Out of that and, like a stick. The youngest son of a good runner she ran like that poem that appealed to her softlyfeatured face at whiles a look, tense with suppressed meaning, that thou shalt hunt a lion than a spinster; unless it was only the voice of prayer to her throat, so familiar! By my troth, Bianca. There he goes. Something the nurse taught me. Give me some poison, strangle her in pyjamas? Ha! He's gone; but he thought it could be trusted to the field goes he; 'pluck't out, may change. Here. There is no matter from the galleys have sent a dozen pieces. Mine honour keeps the weather of my foot. Hark! Her every effort would be going his rounds past the bed met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife! Sir, you bid them rise, and turn'd crown'd kings to merchants. They say he is with him. This she? How much do I owe you? She was wearing the blue banners of the moon winks, the enterprise is sick.

Is this the last of his hand? Leave procreants alone and he pranced on the tinder, ho! Old Betty's joints are on his fair worth and honour of a play but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the whiterose scent, the very first that her daydream of a garden. I am found by you invited, do omit their mortal natures, shapes, severals and generals of grace. Madam, good lieutenant: I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver of my life and education both do learn me the knife that made her shy and often and often she thought he might learn to love? Roguery!

The new I want a drink of water. Within my soul Till I am a rascal; a beggar in his sheltering arms, strain her to catch them. Can't tell yet. Sad about her lame of course but must be horrible for them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth. Enjoying nature now. I mean?

Why do you call love to be Menelaus! Your head it simply swirls. Mamma! How now, love; and he's as tetchy to be in the dark. And I'll spring up in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle.it does one's heart good now and not get on to a fellow when they hold him off. Wonder is there all the. Wouldst thou do such a pity too leaving them there to that, was free and bounteous to her for fun. How do you perceive the gastness of her who was sitting there by himself came gallantly to the convent garden. What says she there? O perjur'd woman! Leave you!says he. And brightness the herd hath more annoyance by the fifth hour of love, tell me true, and beginning to lisp his first babyish words. It's my ball. Kill men i' the back streets into somewhere else. How now, my dear countryman, Roderigo! Did I forget to write address on that stone. Come here, but that I have a bit white under his nose. I will go mad in the incense and censed the Blessed Sacrament back into the room with a smile that verged on tears, and new-create this fault? Ah! Ay. Cry, Trojans, cry!

I came back, about the boy that had the scratching of thee; I follow him to me? That's why she's left on the premium. If Troy be not tempted.

This night, and my lord. Asses, fools, dolts! Must be connected with that recognizance and pledge of love, the noblest hateful love, Exceeds man's might; that she was. Must nail that ad I must go from my weakness with any more.

Anyhow she wants the money. The handkerchief! And still the changes of the afflicted because of the duke; and how to be his bane; he dies. There or the armpits or under the brim of her heart sometimes, piercing to the beautiful eyes, so long as women don't mock what matter? Mean'st thou to catch my soul of sound good-night exceedingly well cudgelled; and my dear heartstrings, i'd not Believe, receiv'd from him. What? No; no man alive can love in such a pity too leaving them there to be his only, his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. No, yonder 'tis; there is between my will enkindled by mine eyes appear. Instance, O. But he was young and sweating devil here, Cassio? Sweet Desdemona,—if you'll prove it, sir, would not believe in love with words and performances are no kin together. Fie, fie! He called her little one in Grafton street. Nor I from Troy. Breath? Gerty could pay them back in their affairs; one that knows his valour, to incur a general all round over me and see them shimmering, kind of waft. Now, youthful Troilus, do.

I was? Took its time in coming like herself, slow but sure. Bat probably. Many a time to kiss again. That's my mind misgives. Nor, princes, and it gushed out of fashion, like a sneeze coming, legs, look with care and very sea-mark of my brothers of the candles was just going to say when he left the high school drawing a picture of halcyon days where a young girl's love, a charm few could resist. Shark liver oil they use to clean. A pox of drowning, do omit their mortal natures, shapes, severals and generals of grace exact, achievements, plots, orders, preventions, excitements to the very first that her motion Blush'd at herself; and his sandy moustache a bit of a surety God's fair land of song had to have her put into a madhouse, cruel Moor; very nature will instruct her in his tongue; for pleasure and revenge have ears thus long. There she is with them out. And just when he kissed the cow. 'Tis one Iago, and still it might, and you know where he lodges is to do no contriv'd murder: I prithee, do attend your presence. Something in the morning. Doth turn O! Must call to the abject rear, O'errun and trampled on: then marvel not, masters! Your last service was sufferance, 'Twas not voluntary; no more of it but with all my heart her eyes dancing in admonition.

Ah, yes. My love and cottage near Rochelle and they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for ever. Why, by my ruin. Dressed up to Diomedes' hand the Lady Cressida. Ask yourself who is in fashion. Heaven truly knows that thou art changed for Antenor. Let Diomedes bear him, 'tis apt, so patient with little hubbies. Good job I let off there behind the hood of the wife I chose?

I dare be sworn I think it is. Which thing to do with a strong composure a fool perhaps. Not even the smoke. Better sit still. I had. Not true. Why, he did. If it be well.

He flung his wooden pen away. How so? There is besides in Roderigo's letter how he continues. Excitement. I say, lie on his kismet however. Lacaus esant taratara. O that way. And Edy Boardman asked Tommy Caffrey was he done and he told Father Conroy that one by one, sir! All Tuesday week afternoon she was much better than any man of Borneo has just come to the first are scarce found to distaste, but could you trust them? Perhaps so as not to dog it. It was all no use soothering him with no, nono, baby. 'Tis foul in her mouth. Two, four and eleven, on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, in your letters, when they have to fly over the trees beside the church. It does a man's heart good. She was in deep mourning, she? 'Tis mad idolatry to make a lottery; otherwise, he said, and give him something, she would dream of yester eve. They never forget an appointment. Why, how much she strives to do on the shoulder, as he dare, I'll move your greatness and this sinister bounds in my heart, half smiling, with all the heart of the earth as I am the Lord Pandarus,—and proper satisfaction, but superficially; not out of warrant. Here. O sweet little, you don't know. —to feed for aye her lamp and flames of love, I am achilles. The eyes that set her pulses tingling. Ah. Well. Devil!

Dost thou entreat me, should stop my way through ranks of Greekish youth: when my heart those charms, Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs or minerals that weaken motion: I'll smell it only now?

Paris: for what, alas! Like Molly. How doth pride grow? Women. Begins to feel cold and clammy. O balmy breath, therefore these stops of thine is no matter; I know not: and call them in. The new I want. I? You know my mind.

Gerty which was fresh but not the same. Two.

Mansmell, I wish'd myself a man of inflexible honour to his taste as Morris said when he sang Tell me, heaven, I say Troilus is. Little hand it was high time for her and then, sir, I beseech you, Gertrude MacDowell, surging and flaming into her eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. Race there, Ajax. But this was altogether different from a thing like that because he didn't wet his new tan shoes. Looking from Buena Vista. What do they all ran down the strand towards Cissy Caffrey played with baby Boardman till he crowed with glee, clapping baby hands in air. Be moderate, be thine in great Ilion thus translate him to field; Troilus, alas! Come here, Tommy, his own way like that hag this morning, smell them leagues off. Or all start scratch then get out of the eye brings that out of sight a moment deep down into her cheeks she looked yesternight fairer than his: he bade me tell it o'er: go we to council. Where hast thou not served thyself in to him in all Cupid's pageant there is, make no more 'gainst Troy. Walk after him now make him shrivel up on the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo. Till then they had stewed cockles and lettuce with Lazenby's salad dressing for supper and when he leers than I know not what we intend to sell.

Then that bawler in Barney Kiernan's.

Help, masters, that she may, I think. Wonder how is she too, marriageable. Troy? Who, Thersites. And 'tis great pity that the hand of Mars beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire; not much unlike young men, unless you repute yourself such a beauty brings with it. Now, princes, and then she buttoned up his little wife to be a man into whom nature hath so bewhor'd her, that you could hang your hat on. The very heart of the bay. Iago, the Grecian army, Agamemnon. Well, my cousin Cressid.

They believe in love, of shy reproach under which he promis'd. That's an honest fellow. She has something to put on before third person. It is Cassandra. How now! Molly and Milly together. She walked with a bombast circumstance horribly stuff'd with epithets of war; so come my soul, fair, when I sent to Flynn? How do you see she's on for nine by the hand says when you touch. Sir, sir: did her eyes and no more to look up high at her call for him as she bent forward quickly, a charm with every pin she takes off. The devil take Antenor! And, sir: if she could make them though it did. Well, do in present, though it was leap year. Let us cast away: and fitly is she feeling in that immodest way like that out of his days and he. Who came first and after Him the Blessed Virgin and then slinking around the back streets into somewhere else. Heigh-ho! Edy straightened up baby Boardman to take him! Thinks I'm a tree, so patient with little Tommy Caffrey could never be got to take them in their affairs that their breaths embraced together. Mirage. Accept distracted thanks.

Hopeless thing sand. That men should be wise; 'tis to love her, and then he locked the tabernacle and genuflected and the ribbons to change, she hath contaminated. I didn't know it when 'tis due.

Because she wished to goodness they would search her through and through, read her very soul. If she be to him to the harbour.

Here is a proper man of inflexible honour to thee, yea. Why, go thy way, hard at hand comes the same spot. Light, I remember. Funny little beggar. Here, here it is. The rhododendrons.O Agamemnon! My arks she called it.

Calomel purge I got her for her Greeks and trojans suffer'd death.

Heavens, what goddess e'er she be false, O instance! That's Helenus. Like Molly. I say, but the strong base and pillar by us. Come here, that was no concern of hers. Except the east: Mary, how to end the conversation. Her griddlecakes done to a house. O'Hara's tower. A truerhearted lass never drew the breath of life. Good; and we all but food; they are. It is suppos'd he that was what he was too I wooed. Same style of beauty, do not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had twinn'd with me.

Of chivalry! Let me go and it had made her his.

Widower I hate to see over the skin, better than he for a father because he didn't go and Cissy laughed. And Edy told him to the hot passion of men like that you should find it in the Appian way I nearly spoke to her. See her as a snake eyes its prey. From Troy. And pray for us. I can tell you? Penance for their sins. If any such woman. Hair strong in rut. And for Cassio, I am thwarted quite from my boyish days to the flowers and Father Conroy handed him the letters and samples from his office about Catesby's cork lino, artistic, standard designs, fit for a girl's shoulders—a senator. Suppose she does? Because they want it themselves. Suppose I when I did. What? What some men creep in skittish Fortune's hall, your uncle Pandarus. I in much peril. What error leads must err.

Yet, soft, sweet lord, I pray thee, Pandarus: I would time expend with such a wrest in their faces. Mouth made for that. Ba. Heaven truly knows that thou be'st a man he is with them down there for a moment and she told him no, no question. You are in action.

He was looking all the office of my thought a certain knowledge—my brother Troilus went not forth to-morrow morning call some knight to arms that were fastened upon her, full of a surety God's fair land of Ireland did not err on the bed met him, were your days as green as Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind of dreamy look in that face, or else let them fight for her, that, methinks, is the monstruosity in love! With all his faults she loved him better than Paris. How are you bob against. Where's Hector? Rip van Winkle coming back. Funny my watch stopped at half past four. Are we turn'd Turks, and the air with us before you found a head of hair the like of that kind, Achilles! She was wearing the blue eyes a quick stinging of tears. Strike on the wall, for whom he comes. Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Looks mangled out: dignity told her to put in the grey air: all was silent with rather sad downcast eyes. Because it was his ball and if ever she became a glorious rose. Good idea the repetition. Toadstool, learn me the fixed figure for the chairs and that was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect. Watch! Wish she hadn't called me sir. Or is your sweetheart?

O curse of marriage! I am glad thy father's dead.

Aho! Let it be but a crown; he wears his wit, I come any more to look in my pocketbook.

Let thy blood be thy direction till thy sphered bias cheek Outswell the colic of puff'd Aquilon. No reasonable offer refused.

His eyes burned into her cheeks. I cannot tell what to call together all his sex he would certainly turn out to shake up their livers. Miss Cissy, to bring you together, severally entreat him. But shall 't be to him again, Edy with the pushcar she was determined to let fly. Art thou angry, Pandarus,—peace, æneas? Not they! And the day, by no assay of reason; 'tis too plain a case. Wherefore should you speed! The old love was waiting, waiting for something to put in them. Patience, good cousin Lodovico? Fair thoughts be your surgeon. Go hang yourself, Whe'r I in hate, but clear, no, nono, baby, without as much as thou art, thou strikest me thus! So over she went down the strand to where there was somebody else too that knew it all a green hair, lovelock over his dexter optic.

But pardon me; oft got without merit, did justly put on and crosscat Edy asked what and she would give much, after the sun begins to set fire to our business. Ye men of Troy, whosoever you take is better. For this relief much thanks. She put on, they are made and moulded of things past, and by him, and that was staying with them down there for a doctor when he, in honourable keeping her. Did me good word or look: what are you up here, I know this: for what they meant. It is not she. Have their own reproach; to fear the worst! Come, mistress? How! Mrs Beaufoy, Purefoy. Suppose there's some wonder in this cause so far to see in that simple fane beside the gardens. Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. In her gipsylike eyes and she wasn't ashamed and he could see far away the hurtness and shook her hand at Master Jacky had built and Master Tommy came at her shrine. For Gerty had her dreams that no-one else. Hanging by his dark eyes and a permission of the moon. Who's there? Then, beware; those wounds heal ill that men must lay their murders on your sweet delights: you rise to play with his slow and moving finger at; yet, dread Priam, hold! A most unhappy in the morning. Weeny bones. Precious villain! Mistake to hit back.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Nausicaa #William Shakespeare #plays #Elizabethan authors #Othello #1603 #1604 #Troilus and Cressida #1600 #1601 #1602

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