Lich Quotes

Very well!” he said. “You shall prove your worth by facing me in a joust!” I’d never heard of an undead lich king challenging someone to a joust. Especially not in a subterranean burial chamber. “All right,” I said uncertainly. “But won’t we be needing horses for that?” “Not horses,” he replied, stepping away from his throne. “Birds.

It is as much of a mistake to underestimate yourself as to overestimate yourself.

False modesty is as bad as false pride. Know exactly what you are capable of at any moment, and act accordingly. Any other path is folly—and could be deadly in battle.

In the far reaches of the world, under a lost and lonely hill, lies the TOMB OF HORRORS. This labyrinthine crypt is filled with terrible traps, strange and ferocious monsters, rich and magical treasures, and somewhere within rests the evil DemiLich.

There is not always a light at the end of the tunnel. That is why you must carry a torch.

Truly, nothing is better than to crush your competition, to drive down their profit margins, to hear the lamentations of their sales representatives.

Cade hiked his shoulders, pretending nonchalance. "Tell me about the vampire, or not, dove. But none of us really wants to be here." "I'll tell you," Nïx said, her gaze rapt on his horns. "But only if you let me lick your rock-hard horns—" "Nïx!" Regin's attention snapped back to this conversation. Eyes wide, Nïx cried, "Who said that?? I didn't say that! Oh, very well—the vampire's named Conrad Wroth. Best be careful with that one. He single-handedly took down Bothrops the Lich." "That was Wroth?" He'd heard of the assassin before. Cade grudgingly admitted that the leech did nice work, dealing deaths with a unique, gruesome signature to them. Which was important in their line of business. "Where is he?" "To find him, you need to trail the one who seeks him in sleep." "Soothsayerese? I don't speak it," he said, but she didn't elaborate. "That's all you're going to divvy?" "Wanna know more?" Nïx raised her brows. "Then you should have let me lick your horns.

How many times has the world ended before? Perhaps we are just toiling among its ashes.

The exact ratio of irony to matter in the universe is known as Nove’s Constant, and by definition it’s more than you’d expect.

A lich guards his phylactery like an elf guards his salad.

It has been said that necessity is the mother of invention. In the same vein, desperation is the father of compromise, panic is the sister of slapdash improvisation, and despair is the second cousin of quiet apathy. By that reckoning, dinner was a dismal family reunion.

I had a choice. My instincts told me to hurry up and give the choking man the Heimlich maneuver. My brain told me to stay still until he expired and chalk this one up to divine intervention.

There was a point of equilibrium in any organization’s middle management, a fulcrum of responsibility that remained still while the upper and lower ranks of the bureaucracy moved around it. Tyren knew from experience that a shrewd official could find this pivot-point within the org chart and, once entrenched, enjoy near-complete autonomy with almost no responsibility.

Lad, no one feels ready. No one feels he deserves it. And you know why? Because no one does. It’s grace, pure and simple. We are inherently unworthy, simply because we’re human, and all human beings—aye, and elves, and dwarves, and all the other races—are flawed. But the Light loves us anyway. It loves us for what we sometimes can rise to in rare moments. It loves us for what we can do to help others. And it loves us because we can help it share its message by striving daily to be worthy, even though we understand that we can’t ever truly become so.

Jorum had called to the boys to come watch the miracle of birth. The “miracle of birth” was actually pretty disgusting, Arthas thought. He

It is as much of a mistake to underestimate yourself as to overestimate yourself,

Oh? I never liked trickle-down economics. It implies there's a leak somewhere

history is nothing but the collected lies society tells itself.

Nove’s Constant to show that the likelihood of an unfortunate event is directly proportional to the anticipation for whatever the misfortune would disrupt.

A weak mind is a malleable one. Once it is convinced it has been lied to, it begins to lie to itself. Once persuaded that it is hated, it becomes hateful. Once made to fear violence, it becomes violent.

I suppose we are indeed a community; a collection of ice revenants, draugr kings, daemonprinces, and dragon lords… in a beautiful concert with one another when we’re not feuding over scraps at the dinner table. Heroes, eat your hearts out.

Jorruk once told a young Asherzu that a weak mind is a malleable one. Once it is convinced it has been lied to, it begins to lie to itself. Once persuaded that it is hated, it becomes hateful. Once made to fear violence, it becomes violent.

Aww, that’s a shame…” Valeria pouted. “Then what are you planning, honeybuns?” However, neither she nor the rest of the group were prepared for Boxxy’s answer. “Operation TASTYCOCK.” The entire party ground to a halt. Kora struggled valiantly not to laugh, while Xera’s face split into a malicious grin. Valeria and Fizzy could only stare blankly in stunned surprise. “Uh- Uhm… Th-th-that is,” stammered the lich, “what do you mean by tas… tasty cocks?” “Tasty And Shiny Things Yielded by Chesting Or Cheap Killing.

What’s this one?” asked Gorm, picking up the only tome not locked within a glass case. “That’s perhaps the most powerful book never written,” said Jynn. “It’s all blank.” Gorm flipped through the empty pages. “No, wait, there’s a line at the front.” Gorm read the small, neat script on the page aloud. Imbalanced. Too powerful. Breaks mechanics.

Scènes coupées Scène 5 Edwin et le Ts'lich : cinquième (et dernière !) Le Ts'lich s'inclina imperceptiblement et les mots jaillirent de sa gueule aux mandibules acérées. - Rien ne saurait me forcer à te combattre, Edwin Til' Illan. Les légendes parlent de toi, l'unique humain qui, par quatre fois, a réussi l'exploit de défaire un guerrier ts'lich. Pourtant, même le champion des Alaviriens ne pourrait survivre à un affrontement contre deux d'entre nous. L'air se troubla une fraction de seconde et un second Ts'lich apparut à côté du premier. - Alors, Edwin Til' Illan, m'accordes-tu ce que je suis venu chercher ou tentes-tu de bouleverser les légendes ? Edwin resta silencieux, sa lame dirigée vers le premier Ts'lich, ses yeux fixés sur lui.

Scènes coupées Scène 4 Edwin et le Ts'lich : quatrième Le Ts'lich s'inclina imperceptiblement et les mots jaillirent de sa gueule aux mandibules acérées. - Rien ne saurait me forcer à te combattre, Edwin Til' Illan. Les légendes parlent de toi, l'unique humain qui, par quatre fois, a réussi l'exploit de défaire un guerrier ts'lich. Pourtant, même le champion des Alaviriens ne pourrait survivre à un affrontement contre deux d'entre nous. L'air se troubla une fraction de seconde et un second Ts'lich apparut à côté du premier. - Alors, Edwin Til' Illan, m'accordes-tu ce que je suis venu chercher ou tentes-tu de bouleverser les légendes ? La bouche du maître d'armes esquissa un sourire dur. - Le sang de Merwyn coule dans mes veines, Ts'lich, et la mémoire des Avali... Aliva... Ala... Merde ! - COUPEZ !

over the ages the two great factions of mages had refined their philosophical differences into the purest contrarianism. Solamancers and noctomancers went to great lengths to be on the opposite sides of every debate, be it political, social, religious, or inane. Even amid such cultivated animosity, however, there were still forces that could push the two orders of mages to the brink of cooperation. One common example was real estate prices.

Scènes coupées Scène 3 Edwin et le Ts'lich : troisième Le Ts'lich s'inclina imperceptiblement et les mots jaillirent de sa gueule aux mandibules acérées. - Rien ne saurait me forcer à te combattre, Edwin Til' Illan. Les légendes parlent de toi, l'unique humain qui, par quatre fois, a réussi l'exploit de défaire un guerrier ts'lich. Pourtant, même le champion des Alaviriens ne pourrait survivre à un affrontement contre deux d'entre nous. L'air se troubla une fraction de seconde et un second Ts'lich apparut à côté du premier. - Alors, Edwin Til' Illan, m'accordes-tu ce que je suis venu chercher ou tentes-tu de bouleverser les légendes ? Une flamme farouche illumina le regard opalescent du maître d'armes. - Le doute ne vous étreint-il pas, vils laquais de l'ombre, à l'idée d'affronter mon courroux dévastateur ? Votre abjection me... - COUPEZ ! - Mais... - Non, Edwin, c'est nul ! Sois toi-même. Simple. - Merci. - Je t'en prie. Allez, on recommence.

— Qu’est-ce que... est-ce vraiment... bon sang, c’est abominable ! Comment avez-vous réussi à vaincre une pareille créature ? — Celle-là, je l’ai égorgée, expliqua Ellana d’une voix posée. Pour plus de sécurité, Edwin a cru bon lui envoyer deux flèches en plein cœur. Manque de confiance typiquement masculin... — Heu... je vois... Et ça, qu’est-ce que c’est ? — Ce qu’il reste du Ts’lich brûlé par Illian. Ça fait un peu désordre, mais Illian est jeune et se trouvait dans l’urgence. Grâce à lui, nous savons désormais que le Ts’lich n’est pas comestible. Impossible d’inviter des amis autour d’un barbecue et cuire un truc pareil. Ce serait une faute de goût impardonnable. Stupéfait, Bruno Vignol dévisagea la jeune femme. Elle pencha la tête et lui sourit, comme surprise par l’intérêt qu’il lui témoignait. — Vous... vous êtes sérieuse ? balbutia-t-il. — Bien sûr. Le Ts’lich ne se mange pas. Du moins pas en grillade ! En pot-au-feu, peut-être... On vous montre les autres ?

Scène coupées Scène 1 Edwin et le Ts'lich : première Le Ts'lich s'inclina imperceptiblement et les mots jaillirent de sa gueule aux mandibules acérées. - Rien ne saurait me forcer à te combattre, Edwin Til' Illan. Les légendes parlent de toi, l'unique humain qui, par quatre fois, a réussi l'exploit de défaire un guerrier ts'lich. Pourtant, même le champion des Alaviriens ne pourrait survivre à un affrontement contre deux d'entre nous. L'air se troubla une fraction de seconde et un second Ts'lich apparut à côté du premier. - Alors, Edwin Til' Illan, m'accordes-tu ce que je suis venu chercher ou tentes-tu de bouleverser les légendes ? Un rictus sardonique vint déformer le visage du maître d'armes. - Je vais ouvrir vos ventres de sales reptiles puants, répandre vos entrailles dans cette clairière et bouffer vos cœurs encore fumants. Ensuite je... - COUPEZ ! - Quoi, coupez ? - Edwin, mon chéri, il s'agit d'un livre jeunesse, pas d'un film gore ! Adapte ton langage s'il te plaît. Allez, on reprend !

Scènes coupées Scène 2 Edwin et le Ts'lich : deuxième Le Ts'lich s'inclina imperceptiblement et les mots jaillirent de sa gueule aux mandibules acérées. - Rien ne saurait me forcer à te combattre, Edwin Til' Illan. Les légendes parlent de toi, l'unique humain qui, par quatre fois, a réussi l'exploit de défaire un guerrier ts'lich. Pourtant, même le champion des Alaviriens ne pourrait survivre à un affrontement contre deux d'entre nous. L'air se troubla une fraction de seconde et un second Ts'lich apparut à côté du premier. - Alors, Edwin Til' Illan, m'accordes-tu ce que je suis venu chercher ou tentes-tu de bouleverser les légendes ? Le maître d'armes repoussa d'un geste vif la mèche de cheveux blond platine qui lui barrait le visage. - T'es ouf ou quoi ? Je vais t'exploser la chetron si tu te casses pas fissa ! Alors tu nous lâches les baskets et tu... - COUPEZ ! - Qu'est-ce qu'il y a encore ? - Ça ne va pas du tout, Edwin ! Ton langage ! - Il faut savoir ce que tu veux. C'est un bouquin jeunesse ou pas ? - Edwin, mon chou, tu me désoles. Notre rôle est d'offrir aux adolescents un ouvrage dans lequel ils se retrouvent, mais sans sacrifier la place que... - C'est bon, j'ai compris. On recommence.

You’ve been scared before,” Tommy said. “That’s true. But mostly, I’m scared for others. Scared I won’t get somewhere in time, or not be able to get everyone out of a situation in one piece. I’m frightened of failing other people. But with a lich, I’m scared for myself, too. I already know that if I go up against it, I’m going to fail.” “But you’re still going to try and stop it, right?” I turned to find Kasey standing in the doorway. “I mean, you’re going to fight,” she said. “Yeah,” I said with a gentle nod. “I’m going to fight. I have to. I can’t let fear stop me from doing what I know is right. And I won’t let anything keep me from stopping more people getting hurt.” “But if you’re afraid, why don’t we all just run and hide?” “Because if we do that, we’re leaving something evil to have its way with whatever it wants. And I won’t let that happen. And I know your mum and dad won’t either. I fight because if I don’t, I’m not the man I thought I was. So, yeah, I’m afraid of this thing. But that just means I’m going to try harder to beat it. Because fear should never be a reason for not doing the right thing.

Where there is tea, there is comfort. Where there is tea, there is hope.

One needs to amuse oneself on occasion. Company is so very rare these days.’ ‘So when it arrives,’ Antsy snapped, ‘you treat it like dirt? Do you think maybe there’s a connection atwixt the two, you hoary lich?’ ‘Like dirt? I think not. More like…with amiable contempt.’ ‘You got a few things to learn about people, Jaghut.’ ‘Undoubtedly, Sergeant Antsy. Alas, I find myself disinclined to make any effort in that direction.’ ‘Oh? And what direction do you make your efforts in?’ ‘When I discover one I will let you know, if it proves of any interest – to either me or, of course, you.

The tutor requested a companion for Master Walter,’ he went on urbanely. ‘I suggested your boy. This comes to you as a favour from his lordship, to help you since your husband is missing. This is what it is to serve a good lord. Remember it.’ She dropped a deep curtsey. ‘I’m very grateful.’ He gave her a hard look. ‘If anyone asks, you will tell them that his lordship is generous to poor tenants.’ She dipped a curtsey again. ‘Yes, Sir. I know, Sir.’ She turned and walked to the lich-gate with Alys on one side of her, Rob on the other. The two women, mother and daughter, kept their eyes on the ground, and their white capped heads bowed, the picture of submissive obedience. ‘He doesn’t know about the rabbit then,’ Alys said with satisfaction.

Panic is like a fire. It starts with a spark, and if it’s not snuffed out, it spreads quickly. Fear is driven by winds of gossip wherever nervous minds and an uncertain future provide fuel. Terror is as swift and damaging as any blaze.

When it was in range, Zrebnightlingrir jumped up and slapped Max in the face with that hand.  Max felt the sting of a needle before an almost instant feeling of extreme nausea overwhelmed him.  Unable to bend over or move in any way, his stomach could not force the rising bile past his esophagus and out of his system.  Max wailed soundlessly as he began to suffocate on what was left of the stale sandwiches rising up from his stomach. “Fool!  Did you honestly believe you had any hope of defeating me?” The lich stared up at Max, a look of disgust on his pale-skinned face.  Max glared at him, unable to even move his head.  A moment later the lich waved a hand, he felt his face muscles loosening, and he was able to move his mouth.  “Answer me!” the lich demanded. The feeling returned to Max’s face, then his neck, and his chest.  Though his arms and legs still refused to move.  Max spewed vomit all over the dwarf, then gasped in a deep lungful of much-needed air. The lich ignored the nastiness that now coated his face and robe, jabbing Max in the belly with his staff.  “Answer!” “I did not know you existed ten minutes ago.” Max croaked, spitting out some remaining bile.  “But yes, I will defeat you!  Boom!”  Max cast the spell, then jerked his head backwards, throwing his frozen body off balance enough to begin to fall.

The People’s Democracy of the Marsh is properly classified as an odipublic. In a proper republic, the people vote for which leader they want. In an odipublic, the people vote against the candidate they hate most. It’s a subtle distinction, and one that pervades many republics,

How do we know who to vote against?” asked Mathro. “Everyone has their own methods. The candidates spend months making up lies about one another. That’s a dangerous game, though. Some people prefer to vote against the obvious liar, while others enjoy the spectacle so much they vote against whomever’s stories are the least salacious. Some people vote against the candidate who presents the most harmful policies, and of course that itself is a point of contention, while others vote against the candidate who keeps bringing up boring talk of policy rather than a proper mudslinging. Rather than governing, seated representatives spend most of their time creating traps for their political adversaries in order to swing votes against them in the next election. It’s a system born of deceit and propaganda, and ultimately you have to admit that the information you’ve received is so unreliable that you may as well flip a coin.” Diani raised her hand, and Wicksap nodded to her. “My father says he voted against Hefstus two years ago because Elder Rodity said that Hefstus once dug a canal through a graveyard just so he could attach a waterwheel to his house to turn a fan by his bed.” “Which was demonstrably false!” said Wicksap with a smile. “Hefstus invited people for tours of his home to disprove the story, but Rodity repeated it loudly enough and with such conviction that he handily won the election. People voted against the man accused of desecrating a graveyard to afford himself a minor comfort, not the man who spread lies.” Diani’s hand shot up again. “But now they’re saying that Rodity filled the canal with rocks and that’s why Hefstus died of stale air over the winter.” “That’s exactly the method, my girl. Hefstus is both alive and running against Rodity this fall, and now he has to prove to the people that he’s not an impostor, a zombie, or any of a dozen undead creatures that Rodity could accuse him of being. That’s an odipublic in action!

There’s a difference between brooding and sulking. Brooding is productive. When a man broods, he is thinking about how to solve his current crisis. Where did my plan go wrong? Who betrayed me? What can I do better next time, and who do I need to kill or maim—or whatever good people do to cheer themselves up—to feel better in the meantime? On the other hand, to sulk is to wallow in self-pity without considering any corrective actions. Why is the world a steaming pile of whale dung? Why is no one trustworthy? Does whale dung sink or float? Why do I keep trying?

An old friend once told me that there ain’t always a light at the end of the tunnel,” Gorm said. “That’s why ye gotta carry a torch.

Lad, no one feels ready. No one feels he deserves it. And you know why? Because no one does. It’s grace, pure and simple. We are inherently unworthy, simply because we’re human, and all human beings—aye, and elves, and dwarves, and all the other races—are flawed. But the Light loves us anyway. It loves us for what we sometimes can rise to in rare moments. It loves us for what we can do to help others. And it loves us because we can help it share its message by striving daily to be worthy, even though we understand that we can’t ever truly become so.

Mental acuity?” Lich whispered mockingly. “What the fuck’s mental acuity?” “Something you don’t have, knuckle-dragger,” Mac snickered back, though Lich possessed plenty of it.

Sehr viel später hat sich dann herausge­stellt, warum das eine Klasse mit aus­schließ­lich schö­nen Mädchen war. Das war eine Sonder­schul­klasse für minderjährige Mütter. Ist ja klar, daß die Würmer nur in die süßen Kirschen gehen.

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The “miracle of birth” was actually pretty disgusting, Arthas thought. He hadn’t realized there’d be so much…goo involved.

battle,

darker

bloodied, broken corpse,

Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner,

Knights of the Silver Hand,

Dark Portal and the Blasted Lands.

King Arthas?

bloody coup,

What? He can’t possibly mean to—

sometimes life is like a sewer flood: it stinks, but it only gets worse if you go against the current. And this party is headed upstream without a paddle.

Oh yes, there were some kitty cat claws with that goblin’s name on them.

I am no mere kitten. Nae, I am the Great and Mighty Doug, caretaker and advisor to this home.

Welcome to the Valentine residence. This is a neutral area where you can rest and plan your delve. Please use caution and wipe your feet before entering the home. Beware of Doug.

lich,

my name is Bizzlenap Ipipip Smith,

It has been said that necessity is the mother of invention. In the same vein, desperation is the father of compromise, panic is the sister of slapdash improvisation, and despair is the second cousin of quiet apathy.

Uh, Florence, I think he’s a bit more than a simple skeleton. You are in the presence of a lich, and if I’m not mistaken, this is a very old and powerful one,”... ...“What? He’s going to lick? How does he even do that without a tongue?

vaulted

The English adverbial suffix -ly has also been obtained by morphologization. Old English had a noun lic ‘body’, which has developed in various ways. As lich, it survives in lich-gate, a roofed gateway to a church where coffins were formerly placed to await the arrival of a clergyman. The derivative gelic ‘having a common body’ is the source of our word like, as in ‘She’s just like you’. But, early on, the word lic also came to be compounded with nouns to express the sense of ‘resembling’ and then ‘having the characteristics of’: hence Old English fœderlic ‘father-like’, ‘fatherly’ and manlic ‘man-like’, ‘manly’; here the original noun has since been reduced to a mere suffix. Finally, much the same thing happened with adjectives: a case-inflected form lice was added to an adjective to express the meaning ‘in the manner of’: hence Old English slawlice ‘slowly’ and cwiculice ‘quickly’, and here again the original noun has been reduced to a purely grammatical affix: our suffix -ly for making adverbs out of adjectives.

If the gods are so intent on having some random yokel do their dirty work for them, the least they can do is leave behind more than the vague notion of Save the world at all costs, Joe. Because Joe is going to fuck it up. Joes always do.

Jane!” The faux prophetess called out, “I shall have my revenge!” “There’s a queue, Darling Elli. Mind the numbers being called.

Yit-gadal v’yit-kadash sh’may raba B’alma dee-v’ra che-ru-tay Ve’yam-lich mal-chutay b’chai-yay-chon uv’yo-may-chon Uv-cha-yay d’chol beit Yisrael Ba-agala u-vitze-man ka-riv, ve’imru Amen. Y’hay sh’may raba me’varach Le-alam uleh-almay alma-ya . . .

I swear to the gods if they kill me I'm going to figure out a way to haunt you, again." Baxter disappeared, phasing through the wall and into the boss room.

That's right! Zombie Bankers! Which is more terrifying: their eternal Hunger for the flesh of the living? Or their reckless fiscal iresponsibility?

And the thing about economic collapse and social upheaval is that there’s a lot of room for upward mobility. At least that’s what Janice from HR says, and I guess she’s right, because I used to work in customer service, but now I’m a personal assistant to the Lich.

are

said Gorm. “I’m to check it out in the back alley. If I’m not back in ten minutes, ye know what to do.” “Drink your ale,” said Laruna. “And order me a cold one.” Gorm headed for the back door.

necessity is the mother of invention. In the same vein, desperation is the father of compromise, panic is the sister of slapdash improvisation, and despair is the second cousin of quiet apathy.

sometimes life is like a sewer flood: it stinks, but it only gets worse if you go against the current.

Failure is not an option, Your Majesty,” said Johan. “That’s not the same thing as success being guaranteed,

Got to stay on the yellow floor when we’re in a live test zone,” said Boomer. “Safety is our top priority! Or at least it’s in the top five.

their culture observed ethical standards in the way that merfolk observe hiking.

He pulled out a block of dirt from his inventory. “What are you gonna do with that?” Stitcher asked from below him. “Why, destroy the Lich King, of course,” he replied with a smile, then ran out into the Lich King’s chamber.

He continued as the storm blew over, feeling the same feeling growing greater in the center of his mind and forethought until, at last, something stood out. It was a silver spire standing upon a black rock that stuck out of the trees and into the sky. The center point of the spire was struck by multiple strikes of lightning and seemed to arc down to the ground. But the arcs were blue, a strange color, and as he drew closer, he not only felt stronger but could see beyond his normal sight. As he made his way toward this place, he noticed glowing stones on small pillars of stone that floated above the ground. The road ahead crept up like a fallen tree timber, the rocks and railings crumbled, but still, it was a path. As he came closer to the spire, he noticed more floating orbs floating just above the ground. Beneath the orbs

The pleasure is mine,” lied Tamsin with a straight face. “I am certain I will see you again, in the course of our respective duties.” If that was also meant as a veiled threat, Piper did not react to it. He smiled and said, “We lich-doctors do see everyone…eventually. Good day, Commander

Foot, mouth, thoroughly acquainted. I’m digging my own grave while standing in quicksand.

You healed up really well!

Long live the king May his reign last forever May his strength... Fail him never.

Why else go to The Snelling?” “Usual reasons. Drugs. Sex.” “I look for conspiracies, you always look for sex.” “I obviously have my priorities in order.” “No,” Mac answered chuckling, “I just think with my upper unit and you with your lower unit.” “Whatever,” Lich answered

Yeah, but he's a douche," Amara continues to hold out. "I mean like, epic-level super-douche. He's like the Lich King of Douchebaggery.

him at the door, vocal and upset at being left alone all night. Mathew gathers him in his arms and perches on the bottom of the stairs for a few minutes, stroking him, but really he is comforting himself. Upstairs, he showers, goes directly to his bedroom and logs on to the Blackweb as he walks. There is a tech support advert waiting for him. He accepts. “Greetings. You are Burning Crusade. I am the Lich King.

bit you, Kendra, but I could never take control of you. Your mind is shielded. None of those enemies are of serious interest except for the Sphinx and Mr. Lich. Despite her delusions, Torina is really just a minor player. I’m curious about the person in the mask. Could it have been the prisoner from the Quiet Box?

Yet, the great irony of the Christian Right is that though their families are often messes and their churches splintering, they think they have the wisdom to wield the sword. In search of "real change," they charge out to conquer the institution that is most impotent in actually bringing it about. We haven't changed I11LICh from our ancient Israelite brothers. We want a king or a sword just like everybody else. We don't understand how God has structured the world, how real change occurs.

I know we don’t have a lot of time, but this is the right thing to do. Maybe not the smart thing, but the right thing. The merciful thing.

For a heartbeat, my resolve wavered. And then a pack of smooth-faced Gnome children tore by us, giggling as they played chase.

Then Soven says, “Workin’ hard, or hardly workin’?” He snaps and points a claw out over the empty cubicle, and pretends to wink at some imaginary coworker. It’s so overwhelmingly ridiculous to imagine him working in one of these tiny cubicles, I can’t help but laugh. “You’re such a dork,” I say, putting a hand over my mouth. “No one actually says that.

What the hell was that about?” I snap at Soven. I’ve never raised my voice so angrily at him before, and yet this does not seem to shock him. “Downsizing,” Soven growls, throwing off his cloak of shadows, revealing the beast underneath.

I heard a small gasp and sensed rather than saw her first. A luminous, delicate energy, like that of a flower or a moth, glittered in a faint cloud in the darkest nook. In my heightened state, it called to me like something delicious and forbidden. Like a beauty so perfect, one has the urge to smash it. Like something so fine, one can’t help but want to possess it, completely and utterly. Mine.

Now that I was in the arms of someone who didn’t breathe, I realized how many sounds a living body really made. His did not, and it was eerie. I wondered if Virgil was alive. Did it matter? He was warm, and strong, and despite the pain of bone pressing into bone, I felt so good in his arms. Safe and cared for. For the briefest moment, all the voices in my head were silent, and I was just a girl carried by her groom. So normal and sweet, I could cry.

The ecstasy gripped me, my shadow slipping out of control, and we were flung higher, stopping right under the ceiling, our joined bodies turning and turning, May on top, me on top, May on top…

New York, after all –the fuck around and find out state.

The whole mask thing was another thing that didn’t make sense to me. In Manitoba, even some of the rural people were masking up and lecturing you about masks, because that’s what they believed would protect them, like it was some kind of magic fabric. But when the whole pandemic started, the public health officials were telling us masks were useless.

That's the thing, Dahlia Rosemont. I don't want you a healthy amount," he growled with a dark need, stepping up closer to her. Sebastian captured her lips in a heavy kiss before lingering an inch away, "I want you so desperately and entirely, its likely to be my demise.