ballad-of

manju-butt  asked:

How do you think the Lords would handle MC giving them the cold shoulder?

Again, I didn’t write the others cause I don’t really know them. Sorry for answering so late ^^u

Nobunaga:
“Who do you think you are, girl? Ignoring me like that…”
He’d be mad. He wouldn’t understand what’s gotten into you to be suddenly ignoring him. You were polite, as always, but you never tried to talk like before, and if he tried to do so, you would just walk out of the room. However, even if he is tempted to use his sword to get the words out of you, he wouldn’t. The fear of losing you is stronger than his bad temper, as he softly gives up. “Out with it. Just tell me what is wrong, but stop ignoring me. You sure have guts to make me beg you”

Mitsuhide:
“Did I do something to bother you?”
Being the gentleman he always was, he’d be concerned but he wouldn’t want to pressure you. He’d never want to impose on you, as he lets you distance yourself from him thinking you may need some time alone. But, as the days go on and nothing seems to change, Mitsuhide couldn’t help but worry. You are his treasure, the only thing he cherished more than his own honor, how could he not fear losing you? “I’m just a man, no wonder I did something wrong… but please, let me make it up to you”

Yukimura:
“Wait. Please, wait… Are you mad at me?”
He would look down, not wanting to show you how much it actually hurt him to see you giving him the cold shoulder. He couldn’t even remember if he had done something to offend you, but he wants to find out and win you back. He never considered himself a jealous man, but oh when he sees you talking so much with Nobuyuki and then ignoring him, he finds himself with boiling blood. He takes your wrist softly, with enough force to make you stop but also making it easy for you if you want to keep walking. “I am sorry. I don’t know what I did, but please, forgive me”

Saizo:
“What are you playing, huh?”
His usual teasing smile is there, but you can also notice the tinge of coldness behind it. You know he is mad, and probably hurt, but you only look down, trying to escape his piercing gaze. He chuckles, his left hand finding a place right next to your head, as he corners you. His eyes shining with a playful glow, his grin growing wider as his right hand traces your figure, barely touching you. You gasp, and he can only laugh more. “Seems like you have been ignoring me…”, he says, his finger tracing your neck softly, tickling you, tempting you. You blush, and he only smiles. “Should I make you look at me again, hmm, little lady?”

Masamune:
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?”
He never really cared for women. He had enough to deal with his own mother to actually care for someone else. But all of that changed when he met you, he knows. You have been his comfort, his safety, his happy place, where he could come back if he wanted to relax and forget everything. Yet, you have been ignoring him for a few days now, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty. The fear of losing you was so strong that he feels dizzy, but the fear of you hating him is stronger. He could deal with his mother and her harsh words because of you… but he would never be able to live knowing you hate him. “Yell at me, hit me if you want… But please, don’t ignore me. Not you, please”

Kojuro:
“Don’t be like that”
He chuckles, knowing he is playing with the devil, but he can’t care less. If there is someone in Oshu who knew perfectly your bad mood, it is him. Yet, he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of your sulking frame walking around his room, trying to clean it. You had been avoiding him for a few days. You were mad at him, and wanted to punish him in any way possible, but since you were clearly weaker… you could only punish him with your absence. It wasn’t as if it didn’t affect him, because you heard him a few times asking Lord Masamune for help. But even when he tried to apologize, you simply ignored him. So, Kojuro decided to use his backup plan. And today you had come to deliver his dinner only to find his room being a mess bigger than before. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look when you’re mad, dear girl?”, he says, embracing you from behind, his laughter echoing in your ears. His plan had worked, after all.

Inuchiyo:
“What’s wrong with you?”
Again, he receives no response. He clenches his fists, frustrated that you are still acting just as childish, and he can’t help but sigh. He sees you walk away, until Keiji appears in your way and starts talking to you. Toshiie sees your smile and he frowns; why are you laughing so much with Keiji but can’t even answer him? His patience long gone, he walks towards you and before you or Keiji can react, he picks you up. You’re now over his shoulder. “Don’t even try to complain. You wanted to act like a child? I’m going to make you forgive me like a damn kid, then”

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Joanna Newsom credits this song to the Appalachian singer Texas Gladden, whose 1960 a cappella version is below. It’s striking how much Newsom takes after Gladden’s specific vocalizations. The older version helped me understand the song too (the Lord took the babes away, not the lark as the lyrics sites (loci of modern folklore transmission) have it).

The song’s much older than that: it’s Child ballad #79, going back to at least 1802 Scotland. In Gladden’s and Newsom’s telling, the return of the children is an unexplained, too-brief miracle. The Appalachian version Child records (79D) has the mother pray for the babes’ restoration; they go back to the grave in the morning, without eating or drinking, on God’s orders.

Joan Baez’s version includes these details, and a little more. In her version, the children beg off eating and sleeping with the perplexing defense, “For what’s to become of this wide wicked world / Since sin has first begun”. The Child version has them refuse food but accept the bed with “clean white sheet”, the sunrise then hurrying them back to the afterlife.

We might wonder, as Betsy Rutherford does before walking into her own eerie world, about the religious meaning behind the song. It isn’t the Christian resurrection of Judgment Day, though a Christian god makes it happen. It’s a weird, pagan resurrection, structured by separated time and divine prohibition. This article links the “Christmastime” date of the resurrection – one of the Scottish versions has “Martinmas”, in early November – with the Celtic Samhain, Halloween, when the boundary between the natural and supernatural worlds frays. Christmas here reminds me of a French story about St. Nicholas that scared the shit out of me when I was a kid (illustrated).

I’m also reminded of the Greek goddess Persephone, who also crosses between the living and dead worlds, and who’s also given a prohibition against eating or drinking in the wrong world. Unlike the babes of the song, Persephone goes from the living world into the dead, and unlike them, she breaks the prohibition, joining many other gods who die and rise with the seasons. What do these stories, so far apart in space, time, and culture, actually have in common? If nothing else, both paint the boundary between life and death as permeable but dangerously so. Careful, ritual events, like burial or Martinmas, bring us from one world to the other; it is taboo to engage with the other world via the intimate, bodily act of eating.

What about Child’s other versions of the song? The oldest version recorded, A from 1802, is very similar to the one we’ve been looking at, though with nearly no religious references (except for the detail that the sons’ hats are made of birch from Paradise). B is much like A, but shows up inside another Child Ballad, “The Clerk’s Two Sons of Oxenford” (#72); before showing up to their mother’s hearth at Yule, the now-two sons earn death by sleeping with the daughters of a vindictive mayor, In contrast, the more Christianized C makes Jesus the point-of-view character, and the song focuses less on the children’s tarry with the mother in life than on her desire to join them in heaven. I’ve had less luck finding UK versions I like on YouTube, but below is a 79A by one of those bands with too many people and they’re all scruffy and wearing flannel.

The Court

As I was walking down the lane
I saw a fairy’s ring;
A hollow group of little caps,
A simple lonely thing.

The tops were red as dawn-stained dew,
The stalks as grey as dust;
And as I watched, the wind died down,
Till it breathed not a gust.

I stared down at that quiet hole
Within the soft green grass;
The sun sank silent ‘neath the sky,
Making gold of dusky brass.

The light it dimmed, the nightbirds skimmed
The treetops up above;
The branches creaked, the hedges reached
With fingers leafy gloved.

And there around, without a sound,
All Nature held its breath:
Waiting for Them to find me there
As I stood dumb and deaf.

For untold aeons I waited there,
I waited still enrapt;
Straddling a door to another place:
By that strange sight entrapped;

As night drew close, the shadows danced
A merry little jig:
They to’ed and fro’ed, now close, now far,
Now little now wondrous big;

The shadows slid and sickly flew
From tree to tree to tree;
I saw one split and split again
Till from that one came three;

They broke like glass and giggling came
In groups like flocks of birds;
They charged across the grassy floor
In cackling shrieking herds;

Around, around, they flew and flew,
They mumbled secret words:
Of woven dreams and roughspun ghosts;
Of the green sick scent of myrrh.

O! Ghastly night! What holy light
Could shine upon me there?
And all around, the secret folk,
With whispers in their hair.

Suddenly and all at once
They turned themselves away!
And high above a songbird creak’d
The first melody of day.

They scampered over trampled grass,
They laughed and quickly fled;
And like a hoard of yawning bairns
They put themselves to bed

The hillocks groaned and treetrunks moaned
As they hid themselves away;
Again the mornbird, high above,
Saluted dawning day.

And then I turned and looked about,
My head it slowly cleared,
Their quickened spells soft fell away
As sunrise neared and neared.

Like a blast, the first rays came
Above the treetops then,
Lighting the path I’d been standing on
Since I know not when.

The grass around had grown kneehigh,
Old brown the green leaves fell;
Seasons had stolen the years away:
To where no man could tell.

And there before my silent sat
The tiny fairy’s ring;
A hollow group of little caps,
A secret sacred thing.

jessicapendragon  asked:

haha what type of jean outfit would Aeveth wear? Vest? Skirt? Cowboy hat? xD

Ahhhhh, she’d go all out.  If she’s gonna be ridiculous she’s gonna be ridiculous.  She’d wear a shapeless denim shirtdress with that spaghetti-thin cord as a belt, the kind with the metal caps at the ends? and then she’d put on her giant sunglasses and wear Uggs in the summer and slouch around the town with a venti Starbucks in her hand with a handmade denim coffee sleeve from Etsy.  Hair in a denim scrunchie, side pony.