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fic: comment fic stuff
there was another challenge weekend, but I didn't realize until about six hours to the finale. Still, I got a little bit done :3
Title: B Flat
Series: Elona
Character/Pairing: Loyter, mentions of Shena
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 208
Author’s Note:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic: Elona, Loyter, constantly followed by terrible bards. I was stoked to see a fellow Elona player and that I wasn’t the only one who wanted fic for this series! I suppose maybe I can get around to writing that Whom Dwells In Vanity backstory.
It was bad enough that he’d spent years in pursuit of Shena, Shena whose sweet ass was definitely the best, Shena who at times he wondered if wasn’t preferring to the company of women — a thought which did nothing to lessen his ardor. No, it wasn’t just that he’d still yet to make Shena (and her ass, which was the best) his, the boondocks were full of piss-poor bards to boot. These were bards that even calling them bards seemed an insult to the word. Bards who couldn’t find b flat if it fucked them in the ass.
Still, there was a comfort in throwing stones at them and hearing the sickening crack as they went down. At least there was some fun to be had in that backwoods of a mining town (other than Shena’s unattainable ass – which was most certainly the best).
Title: Ether
Series: Elona
Character/Pairing: an OC, Lomias
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 348
Author’s Note:comment_fic: Elona, the PC, etherwind. Crack, utter crack.
The Elea had a saying that the Etherwind was chaos, and that one must calm the chaos within oneself before they overcame the chaos around them. In his long life, Lomias had gone through many Etherwinds, trudging one even when others would take to shelters. He reveled in the chaos, and found the paroxysms it created in him a beautiful thing.
Larnneire had said more than once this is what had made him a little unhinged. Instead, he had taken that chaos and turned it outwards, becoming almost as a walking, talking Etherwind in the term of luck. He took great pleasure in giving newbies rotten beggars corpses and feigning innocence, in giving cursed items and fake gold bars disguised as something valuable.
Once, he’d even given a chest to an overloaded NPC and smiled as he watched them unable to unload due to a full house and unable to move, only able to be slowly crushed by the treasure they wanted so badly.
That’d teach those Wizard mode cheaters.
*
Arros, an warmage from Elea was perplexed at the news. He had calmed the chaos, and Zerome had been turned to Orphe. The world was saved, so why was there more Etherwinds than ever, or why monsters had spawned even worse than before.
He went back to the Lesmias, a place he thought he’d never see again, especially as Orphe was really poor conversation even if he was rather handsome.
Orphe was attached to a wall, his hands bound behind him and gagged. Arros looked in horror to find – Lomias!
Lomias smiled. “I see you’ve woken, hero. Now, would you like to eat something? Or perhaps I should give you a bow, or a valuable gold bar?”
“You..! You’re evil incarnate!” Arros gasped.
Lomias laughed. If the glove fit, then he’d wear it. Besides, the name of the dungeon was perfect for him. Lomias of Lesmias. Yes, it did have a ring to it....
Title: Previously On Parade
Series: Merlin
Character/Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 526
Author’s note:comment_fic: Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, gay pride. Cracky modern au, related to Sandalwood.
*
By the time Arthur got there, Merlin had already been up for some time, almost all of it spent over the ‘porcelain god’ enjoying his hangover. His alcohol tolerance was quite low. Even knowing that, Merlin was somewhat bad (see: horrid) at refusing drinks. Even when Arthur lectured him again and again that accepting drinks from strangers meant he was probably being hit on, it seemed far too rude to refuse and not chat with them.
Merlin was at the kitchen table, nursing his coffee, his head down and hoping the potion from Gaius would kick in soon. Arthur was pacing, and looked very irritated – which he often did, but this was a different sort of irritation. The type that made Merlin want to apologize on reflex.
“How much did you drink yesterday?” Arthur said.
Merlin looked up, a mite bit confused. “I think I had a drink or so, Dragon was so insistent and well, you know how hard it is to refuse him. Why do you ask?”
Arthur flipped open his laptop and opened video site. He loaded something, and flipped it around for Merlin to look.
There he was in a sparkly thong, with property of the prince written over his chest. He wore copious amounts of body glitter, and danced between two rather voluptuous drag queens who were grinding with him in a rather friendly way. On a float. In front of people. Oh dear....
“I...I don’t remember that at all. Just drinking with Dragon and then...well, having a headache when I woke up. Are you sure this isn’t some hoax? I mean, it could be a person who just looks a lot like me. I heard once that everyone has a double,” Merlin said.
“Trust me, that’s you. See that tattoo on the left bicep?”
Arthur paused it and Merlin saw the intricate A that he’d gotten a few years back.
“...oh,” Merlin said. He felt a bit woozy, as if the alcohol had hit him quite hard. That he’d blush was a given. He could only imagine what work tomorrow would be. “Nice underoos, Merlin! I never knew you could dance!” And that’d be from Gwen, the nicest of the lot.
He could only pray that Uther hadn’t gotten it yet. That would make Sunday dinner veeryy awkward. Especially considering that he was still technically considered Arthur’s ‘roommate’ and not well, roommate.
“For now on, all sparkly thongs are to be kept for the bedroom and not dancing with drag queens. Understand?”
Merlin nodded.
“Though, I didn’t think you could dance like that, Merlin,” Arthur said, somewhat sly, the beginnings of a smirk forming.
Merlin had a feeling he’d be playing the stripper-in-the-sparkly-thong a lot in the next days. He might even have to call himself something like “Candy Sweet” or some other name.
One thing he was sure of was that Dragon, wherever he was, had a laugh. And probably uploaded the video to boot.
Title: Pride & Prejudice & Katanas
Series: Kill Bill
Character/Pairing: the beginnings of Bill/Beatrix
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 400
Author’s Note:comment_fic:Kill Bill, any characters, Jane Austen AU.
This is more Graeme-Smith’s take on Austen than pure Austen. Because, well. KATANAS.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a director named Quentin Tarantino in possession of bare feet will always be in want of more bare feet.
*
She was the strongest of her family, skilled in vanquishing the unmentionables, and known in particular for her skill in the katana. She had fought off O-Ren Ishii’s ninja’s in hoards, and it was said that the mere mention of her name could make unmentionables tremble.
And she was the only thing interesting about this party. It was a dull affair, and while Bill had told a few stories and watched his brother get shot down by girl after girl, it’d all gotten rather old after a while. Now he sipped at his beer and felt the flute he’d played earlier.
His brother sat on the side of the table, far drunker than he.
“All these lovely ladies and you aren’t even going to dance?”
Bill looked around the room. “I think not.”
“Not even the girl over there?”
He looked over to her, the girl who would be his bride. She was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, might as well be the prettiest girl in the world for all he thought.
“She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me,” he said. “I prefer a girl who can actually wield a blade.”
He said this with a smile on his face, one she couldn’t quite see from where she was, where she would certainly overhear.
She pulled out her katana right as the unmentionables came bursting through the windows. Oh, what a coincidence. His unmentionable summoning flute was quite handy at times.
She was at her most beautiful when splattered in undead guts and decapitating zombie after zombie. He couldn’t help it if he liked seeing a girl like that angry. Bill had always been one to play with people he loved. It was just one of those things about him. And a girl like this, she’d not forget such a slight. She’d be there and waiting, katana in hand.
He’d be waiting for her. In fact, he could hardly wait for the taste of her steel.
Title: A Knight In No Armor
Series: Merlin
Character/Pairing: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 270
Author’s note:comment_fic: Merlin, Morgana/Gwen, almost kinky
“Do you think they’ll come in time?” Gwen said nervously. She huddled behind a tree. She wasn’t a coward, but there was dozens of them, and to charge headfirst would be idiocy. They were all armed well, and they hadn’t the armor. It just wasn’t smart to think of taking on them all.
“You don’t need Arthur or Merlin to save you, Gwen.”
Lady Morgana withdrew her sword.
“Because I’m right here.”
“But there’s so many! You’ll get yourself killed!” Gwen said frantically.
“Just watch.”
And watch she did, half afraid to, lest Lady Morgana be cut to pieces before her eyes. But Lady Mogana bested them, partly with quickness – and some rather cleverly played ‘exposed’ moments, which worked wonders. Before Gwen knew it, the camp lay at Lady Morgana, Burgeoning War Goddess’ bare feet.
“That was...almost kinky,” Gwen breathed. “I’ve never seen anything so amazing–”
“What, that your lady could also be your knight?” Morgana sheathed her sword.
“Well, It didn’t come to mind– but I certainly believe it now.”
Morgana smiled. “Come, Gwen. You don’t need Arthur. I’ll keep you safe wherever we go.”
Gwen leaned into Lady Morgana’s arms. It was a different feeling than Lancelot or Arthur or even Merlin. Softer, yet inside, she knew Morgana was just as strong, just as cunning and just as worthy if not more so.
“I’ll be glad to go with you wherever it is, my lady,” she said.
And oh, how she meant it.
Title: you can’t steal happiness.
Series: Merlin
Character/Pairing: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 184
Author’s note:comment_fic: Merlin, Gwen/Merlin, happiness. The title is from “Happiness” by The Weepies.
She stays over often and being her servant, no one questions that she wakes up smelling of roses, Morgana’s personal scent. She wakes up with the bruises of kisses, still sticky, her head pillowed against Morgana’s breasts. In morning there are no more dreams to comfort away, and Morgana is rarely cross. Gwen disengages herself and pulls on her things before any of the other maids come. Morgana prefers the company of only her, and usually she gets her way. The king still sometimes sends others, which means there aren’t any lazy mornings of playing footsie under the covers.
She washes and puts back her hair and is firmly to the realm of ‘servant and mistress’ again. But Morgana is kind, always kind to her.
And it is not something packaged, not something that could be stolen, but she is happy with her lot in life. She would not wish it any other way.
Title: Chlorine
Series: Charlie Bartlett
Character/Pairing: a bit of Principal Nathan Gardner/Charlie
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 235
Author’s note:comment_fic: Charlie Bartlett, Charlie/Nathan Gardner, wet
Charlie cannot smell chlorine without remembering that day. Didn’t they say that scents were indelibly connected to memories? He can believe this. Every time he encounters the sharp, aseptic smell, he thinks of Principal Gardner. He thinks of talking him down, of the gun going off, and of leaping into the pool after him.
And then he thinks of the shape of Principal Gardener’s body. How it looked when they were shirtless together, and sneaking glances from the corner of his eye. He’d never been attracted to a man before, but he had to admit it had always been there. Subtle, at the edges of his mind.
Charlie likes to be open with himself, as a future psychology student is wont to do. He doesn’t push the wants away in shame, but brings them out to the open.
Still, even with this preparation (complete with Freudian analysis involving father figures and lack thereof) something inside him knows when Principal Gardener’s arm slips over his shoulder, the stage in front of them, the lights and Kip’s play. He can still smell the chlorine, and taste all the unkissed kisses, and the shape of the want inside that overshadows the smaller, more compressed want he has felt for Principal Gardener’s daughter.
Title: alive enough to have the strength to die
Series: xxxHolic
Character/Pairing: Clow/Yuuko
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 278
Author’s note:comment_fic: author's choice, author's choice, "The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing / Alive enough to have strength to die" (Thomas Hardy)
“It’s not so much an ending as a beginning. I know that I’ve outlived my usefulness,” he says.
She’d usually snap That’s for sure but she’s tired, so tired.
“I think death will be a great adventure, don’t you?”
“It’s never been that compelling,” she says.
“Ah, but that is because you’re still young. I’m at least several centuries older. When you are this old, you will be more knowledgeable.”
“And hopefully not as verbose,” she says.
He laughs and finishes his one last drink, no retort save for his lack of a retort, which only makes her sniping at him seem childish and beneath him.
She hates him, she hates him and not merely for that, which always incenses her. For every other little reason, but most of all for leaving.
“I prefer to not think of this as goodbye – more, ‘until we meet again.’”
And he smiles, so final, so dead, that her voice cracks as she repeats the words
‘until we meet again.’
And maybe she heard it, his single thought, his wish as he fell into nothingness I wish you to live..., and maybe she hated him a little more for that smile, that wish to the night air and the tight knot in her chest when through all her wine, all her denial it is so clear that she misses him even for all his faults.
Title: B Flat
Series: Elona
Character/Pairing: Loyter, mentions of Shena
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 208
Author’s Note:
comment_fic: Elona, Loyter, constantly followed by terrible bards. I was stoked to see a fellow Elona player and that I wasn’t the only one who wanted fic for this series! I suppose maybe I can get around to writing that Whom Dwells In Vanity backstory.It was bad enough that he’d spent years in pursuit of Shena, Shena whose sweet ass was definitely the best, Shena who at times he wondered if wasn’t preferring to the company of women — a thought which did nothing to lessen his ardor. No, it wasn’t just that he’d still yet to make Shena (and her ass, which was the best) his, the boondocks were full of piss-poor bards to boot. These were bards that even calling them bards seemed an insult to the word. Bards who couldn’t find b flat if it fucked them in the ass.
Still, there was a comfort in throwing stones at them and hearing the sickening crack as they went down. At least there was some fun to be had in that backwoods of a mining town (other than Shena’s unattainable ass – which was most certainly the best).
Title: Ether
Series: Elona
Character/Pairing: an OC, Lomias
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 348
Author’s Note:
comment_fic: Elona, the PC, etherwind. Crack, utter crack.The Elea had a saying that the Etherwind was chaos, and that one must calm the chaos within oneself before they overcame the chaos around them. In his long life, Lomias had gone through many Etherwinds, trudging one even when others would take to shelters. He reveled in the chaos, and found the paroxysms it created in him a beautiful thing.
Larnneire had said more than once this is what had made him a little unhinged. Instead, he had taken that chaos and turned it outwards, becoming almost as a walking, talking Etherwind in the term of luck. He took great pleasure in giving newbies rotten beggars corpses and feigning innocence, in giving cursed items and fake gold bars disguised as something valuable.
Once, he’d even given a chest to an overloaded NPC and smiled as he watched them unable to unload due to a full house and unable to move, only able to be slowly crushed by the treasure they wanted so badly.
That’d teach those Wizard mode cheaters.
*
Arros, an warmage from Elea was perplexed at the news. He had calmed the chaos, and Zerome had been turned to Orphe. The world was saved, so why was there more Etherwinds than ever, or why monsters had spawned even worse than before.
He went back to the Lesmias, a place he thought he’d never see again, especially as Orphe was really poor conversation even if he was rather handsome.
Orphe was attached to a wall, his hands bound behind him and gagged. Arros looked in horror to find – Lomias!
Lomias smiled. “I see you’ve woken, hero. Now, would you like to eat something? Or perhaps I should give you a bow, or a valuable gold bar?”
“You..! You’re evil incarnate!” Arros gasped.
Lomias laughed. If the glove fit, then he’d wear it. Besides, the name of the dungeon was perfect for him. Lomias of Lesmias. Yes, it did have a ring to it....
Title: Previously On Parade
Series: Merlin
Character/Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 526
Author’s note:
comment_fic: Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, gay pride. Cracky modern au, related to Sandalwood. *
By the time Arthur got there, Merlin had already been up for some time, almost all of it spent over the ‘porcelain god’ enjoying his hangover. His alcohol tolerance was quite low. Even knowing that, Merlin was somewhat bad (see: horrid) at refusing drinks. Even when Arthur lectured him again and again that accepting drinks from strangers meant he was probably being hit on, it seemed far too rude to refuse and not chat with them.
Merlin was at the kitchen table, nursing his coffee, his head down and hoping the potion from Gaius would kick in soon. Arthur was pacing, and looked very irritated – which he often did, but this was a different sort of irritation. The type that made Merlin want to apologize on reflex.
“How much did you drink yesterday?” Arthur said.
Merlin looked up, a mite bit confused. “I think I had a drink or so, Dragon was so insistent and well, you know how hard it is to refuse him. Why do you ask?”
Arthur flipped open his laptop and opened video site. He loaded something, and flipped it around for Merlin to look.
There he was in a sparkly thong, with property of the prince written over his chest. He wore copious amounts of body glitter, and danced between two rather voluptuous drag queens who were grinding with him in a rather friendly way. On a float. In front of people. Oh dear....
“I...I don’t remember that at all. Just drinking with Dragon and then...well, having a headache when I woke up. Are you sure this isn’t some hoax? I mean, it could be a person who just looks a lot like me. I heard once that everyone has a double,” Merlin said.
“Trust me, that’s you. See that tattoo on the left bicep?”
Arthur paused it and Merlin saw the intricate A that he’d gotten a few years back.
“...oh,” Merlin said. He felt a bit woozy, as if the alcohol had hit him quite hard. That he’d blush was a given. He could only imagine what work tomorrow would be. “Nice underoos, Merlin! I never knew you could dance!” And that’d be from Gwen, the nicest of the lot.
He could only pray that Uther hadn’t gotten it yet. That would make Sunday dinner veeryy awkward. Especially considering that he was still technically considered Arthur’s ‘roommate’ and not well, roommate.
“For now on, all sparkly thongs are to be kept for the bedroom and not dancing with drag queens. Understand?”
Merlin nodded.
“Though, I didn’t think you could dance like that, Merlin,” Arthur said, somewhat sly, the beginnings of a smirk forming.
Merlin had a feeling he’d be playing the stripper-in-the-sparkly-thong a lot in the next days. He might even have to call himself something like “Candy Sweet” or some other name.
One thing he was sure of was that Dragon, wherever he was, had a laugh. And probably uploaded the video to boot.
Title: Pride & Prejudice & Katanas
Series: Kill Bill
Character/Pairing: the beginnings of Bill/Beatrix
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 400
Author’s Note:
comment_fic:Kill Bill, any characters, Jane Austen AU.This is more Graeme-Smith’s take on Austen than pure Austen. Because, well. KATANAS.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a director named Quentin Tarantino in possession of bare feet will always be in want of more bare feet.
*
She was the strongest of her family, skilled in vanquishing the unmentionables, and known in particular for her skill in the katana. She had fought off O-Ren Ishii’s ninja’s in hoards, and it was said that the mere mention of her name could make unmentionables tremble.
And she was the only thing interesting about this party. It was a dull affair, and while Bill had told a few stories and watched his brother get shot down by girl after girl, it’d all gotten rather old after a while. Now he sipped at his beer and felt the flute he’d played earlier.
His brother sat on the side of the table, far drunker than he.
“All these lovely ladies and you aren’t even going to dance?”
Bill looked around the room. “I think not.”
“Not even the girl over there?”
He looked over to her, the girl who would be his bride. She was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, might as well be the prettiest girl in the world for all he thought.
“She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me,” he said. “I prefer a girl who can actually wield a blade.”
He said this with a smile on his face, one she couldn’t quite see from where she was, where she would certainly overhear.
She pulled out her katana right as the unmentionables came bursting through the windows. Oh, what a coincidence. His unmentionable summoning flute was quite handy at times.
She was at her most beautiful when splattered in undead guts and decapitating zombie after zombie. He couldn’t help it if he liked seeing a girl like that angry. Bill had always been one to play with people he loved. It was just one of those things about him. And a girl like this, she’d not forget such a slight. She’d be there and waiting, katana in hand.
He’d be waiting for her. In fact, he could hardly wait for the taste of her steel.
Title: A Knight In No Armor
Series: Merlin
Character/Pairing: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 270
Author’s note:
comment_fic: Merlin, Morgana/Gwen, almost kinky “Do you think they’ll come in time?” Gwen said nervously. She huddled behind a tree. She wasn’t a coward, but there was dozens of them, and to charge headfirst would be idiocy. They were all armed well, and they hadn’t the armor. It just wasn’t smart to think of taking on them all.
“You don’t need Arthur or Merlin to save you, Gwen.”
Lady Morgana withdrew her sword.
“Because I’m right here.”
“But there’s so many! You’ll get yourself killed!” Gwen said frantically.
“Just watch.”
And watch she did, half afraid to, lest Lady Morgana be cut to pieces before her eyes. But Lady Mogana bested them, partly with quickness – and some rather cleverly played ‘exposed’ moments, which worked wonders. Before Gwen knew it, the camp lay at Lady Morgana, Burgeoning War Goddess’ bare feet.
“That was...almost kinky,” Gwen breathed. “I’ve never seen anything so amazing–”
“What, that your lady could also be your knight?” Morgana sheathed her sword.
“Well, It didn’t come to mind– but I certainly believe it now.”
Morgana smiled. “Come, Gwen. You don’t need Arthur. I’ll keep you safe wherever we go.”
Gwen leaned into Lady Morgana’s arms. It was a different feeling than Lancelot or Arthur or even Merlin. Softer, yet inside, she knew Morgana was just as strong, just as cunning and just as worthy if not more so.
“I’ll be glad to go with you wherever it is, my lady,” she said.
And oh, how she meant it.
Title: you can’t steal happiness.
Series: Merlin
Character/Pairing: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 184
Author’s note:
comment_fic: Merlin, Gwen/Merlin, happiness. The title is from “Happiness” by The Weepies.She stays over often and being her servant, no one questions that she wakes up smelling of roses, Morgana’s personal scent. She wakes up with the bruises of kisses, still sticky, her head pillowed against Morgana’s breasts. In morning there are no more dreams to comfort away, and Morgana is rarely cross. Gwen disengages herself and pulls on her things before any of the other maids come. Morgana prefers the company of only her, and usually she gets her way. The king still sometimes sends others, which means there aren’t any lazy mornings of playing footsie under the covers.
She washes and puts back her hair and is firmly to the realm of ‘servant and mistress’ again. But Morgana is kind, always kind to her.
And it is not something packaged, not something that could be stolen, but she is happy with her lot in life. She would not wish it any other way.
Title: Chlorine
Series: Charlie Bartlett
Character/Pairing: a bit of Principal Nathan Gardner/Charlie
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 235
Author’s note:
comment_fic: Charlie Bartlett, Charlie/Nathan Gardner, wet Charlie cannot smell chlorine without remembering that day. Didn’t they say that scents were indelibly connected to memories? He can believe this. Every time he encounters the sharp, aseptic smell, he thinks of Principal Gardner. He thinks of talking him down, of the gun going off, and of leaping into the pool after him.
And then he thinks of the shape of Principal Gardener’s body. How it looked when they were shirtless together, and sneaking glances from the corner of his eye. He’d never been attracted to a man before, but he had to admit it had always been there. Subtle, at the edges of his mind.
Charlie likes to be open with himself, as a future psychology student is wont to do. He doesn’t push the wants away in shame, but brings them out to the open.
Still, even with this preparation (complete with Freudian analysis involving father figures and lack thereof) something inside him knows when Principal Gardener’s arm slips over his shoulder, the stage in front of them, the lights and Kip’s play. He can still smell the chlorine, and taste all the unkissed kisses, and the shape of the want inside that overshadows the smaller, more compressed want he has felt for Principal Gardener’s daughter.
Title: alive enough to have the strength to die
Series: xxxHolic
Character/Pairing: Clow/Yuuko
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 278
Author’s note:
comment_fic: author's choice, author's choice, "The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing / Alive enough to have strength to die" (Thomas Hardy)“It’s not so much an ending as a beginning. I know that I’ve outlived my usefulness,” he says.
She’d usually snap That’s for sure but she’s tired, so tired.
“I think death will be a great adventure, don’t you?”
“It’s never been that compelling,” she says.
“Ah, but that is because you’re still young. I’m at least several centuries older. When you are this old, you will be more knowledgeable.”
“And hopefully not as verbose,” she says.
He laughs and finishes his one last drink, no retort save for his lack of a retort, which only makes her sniping at him seem childish and beneath him.
She hates him, she hates him and not merely for that, which always incenses her. For every other little reason, but most of all for leaving.
“I prefer to not think of this as goodbye – more, ‘until we meet again.’”
And he smiles, so final, so dead, that her voice cracks as she repeats the words
‘until we meet again.’
And maybe she heard it, his single thought, his wish as he fell into nothingness I wish you to live..., and maybe she hated him a little more for that smile, that wish to the night air and the tight knot in her chest when through all her wine, all her denial it is so clear that she misses him even for all his faults.