Part I: Choice of Romance A high-pitched shriek splits the sweltering summer air: "Help! Oh, help, help!" Your youngest sister Clara skids to a stop in front of you. "Francisco and I were playing in the barn!" she sobs. "He was showing me spells, and he set the hay on fire, and now–" A breath of wind springs up, and the acrid scent of smoke reaches your nostrils. The barn is some ways away from your parents' villa and the vineyards–there's that. But it is full of hay for feeding the horses, and hay catches fire so fast–it would be so easy for the wooden barn to burn to the ground– The smell of smoke grows stronger the closer you get. By the time you reach the barnyard, your throat and eyes are stinging. You can't see flames from the yard, but as you approach the door, you can feel their heat. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the grooms running towards you. Then you reach the barn door and look inside. Your seven-year-old brother Francisco, face white with terror, is backed up against the barn's far wall, surrounded by leaping flames. What are you going to do?
Your options are :
1) I don't know! There's nothing I can do! 2) I rush into the barn to grab Francisco. 3) I shout to the grooms to bring buckets of water. The best way to save Francisco is to put out the fire. 4) Like Francisco, I know some magic. Maybe there's a way to use magic to get him out.
You died and took birth in alternative universe where magic is a thing first choose your attribute in first comment from following 1 fire 2 thunder 3 water 4 air 5 dark 6 light 7 raw muscle power
after 21 years everyone who took birth from the earths dimension gather together in gathering arranged by the newly widowed bi queen to find the new husbando or wifu .
Seduce her with display of your abelites or cleverly plot the assassination to claim the throne
Friends I am writing novel named "Around the world in 669 days " which could be change if I thought about the better one
This is a story about a Man the son of a bitch and a Billionaire from Bangkok aspired to travel around the world for completing his fantasy about having sex with at least one local girl from every country in her own house . And story goes on and very hilarious twists happens like we say shit happens . (Woman Right activists may get involve as he continuously blog about it)
Genre : Comedy, Dark Comedy, Romantic Comedy, R rated
Let me know what do you think about this concept and is it better enough to score a movie (if it gets to making movie I prefer Ryan Reynolds as a Male lead & Brie Larson as a Female Lead)
Fairly said. In any case, you are off to the capital with your uncle and aunt as soon as your clothing can be made. From that point on, time seems to move faster than it ever has before. Two months are scarcely enough time to put together the wardrobe you will require as a young gentleman of the Court: coats, shoes, scarves, hose and garters, bejeweled trinkets. Almost before you know it, the day of your departure is at hand, and you find yourself jolting over the roads with Uncle Pedro, Aunt Leonor, and Mateo. For Mateo is accompanying you. He is too young to be presented at Court, of course, but your mother and Aunt Leonor thought it would be well for you to have a companion, and well for Mateo to get an idea of how the Court functions. You wouldn't have thought it would be much fun, to be dragged along to the capital and once there, spend most of the time under Aunt Leonor's supervision and none at all enjoying Court functions–but Mateo seems delighted. He chatters excitedly the whole journey, hardly even stopping for breath. So how are you feeling about having him along?
Your Options are :
1) Pleased. I will not know anyone at Court, after all; it will be good to have someone I can talk to. 2) Annoyed. I have plans, damn it, and I worry that Mateo's presence will make them harder to execute. 3) Indifferent.
You look at yourself in the mirror, admiring your new coat. It is made of silk, in a rich purple shade that allows your thick black hair to be shown to best advantage, and edged with ribbon and lace that perfectly set off your hazel eyes. Your father has loaned you an emerald tiepin to fasten your cravat, and it winks at your throat. It makes you look suddenly much older. Mateo claps his hands in delight. "Come on, nedac08! I can hear guests arriving! It's time to go downstairs!"
You stand with your mother and father, receiving guests and graciously accepting their best wishes. The guests are mostly families from nearby estates, plus a few friends of your parents' from farther away. Everyone looks most splendid, dressed in formal coats and beautiful gowns in a rainbow of colors. Everyone has a smile for you. Some of the adults look at you appraisingly–only to be expected as you are now considered to be of marriageable age–and many of the youngsters of your age try to flirt. You flirt back…but only a little, since your mother and Aunt Leonor are standing nearby.
There are many lovely young women to flirt with. You stand in the receiving line for what seems to be hours. Behind you, the guests circulate and talk, and snippets of gossip drift to your ears. "…did you hear about Don Alonso's youngest? Foolish girl, she turned down a most advantageous proposal last year–and it was her third Season at Court!" "What does she think to do now? She can't possibly offer a proposal to anyone; her parents cannot afford to set her up in her own household…" It is the way of things. One either courts or is courted. A youngster of sixteen or so is courted, generally by a well-established adult of twenty-five or thirty. Among the nobility, an eldest child is likely to have his or her own household, and seek to bring a husband or wife into it. Younger children are courted by others. There are exceptions, of course: wealthy parents may be able to provide all their children with sufficient inheritance to set up households, and poverty-stricken families–like yours–cannot even do it for their eldest. "I heard that she turned down that proposal because she had hopes of Doña Beatriz offering for her!" "Foolish indeed! Doña Beatriz has no money to support a wife!" "I heard that Beatriz's sister Eugenia is having a love affair with Don Carlos de Vargas…" "With Don Carlos? But he is a Life Mage, and she is a Death Mage! How shocking!" That, too, is the way of the world. There are Death Mage families and Life Mage families. One tends to marry within one's set. Except for the Queen, of course. Queen Agustina, like all the Monarchs of Iberia, has married across mage lines. She is a Death Mage, and her King Consort a Life Mage. This means their children are more likely to be Life Mages, and so a Life Mage will succeed a Death Mage to the throne. That has always been the way of things. Of course, it is only the way of things if the Queen and King Consort succeed in producing an heir. "…I heard Their Majesties have lost another unborn child," you hear another thread of gossip start. "How dreadful!" It is dreadful. Their Majesties have only the one child, and she is a Death Mage. She cannot succeed to the throne. "I heard that the Queen has commanded young Tomás de Reyes to be brought to Court…" Aunt Leonor clears her throat and changes the subject, reminding the speaker that there are youngsters listening.
You have taken only the first step when your uncle's voice booms out, calling for everyone's attention. "I wish to propose a toast!" he says. "In honor of my nephew's birthday!" There is a smattering of applause. Goblets are raised. "And I wish to make an announcement!" Uncle Pedro continues. He pauses to be sure he has the attention of the entire room, and then says, "I have been so fortunate as to receive the favor of our most gracious Queen! In recognition of my service abroad, she has awarded me with a suite of rooms in the palace, and given me permission to bring my nephew nedac08 to Court when the Season starts in the autumn. nedac08, you shall have a proper Season after all." "I can manage a Season's worth of coats," he adds the following morning over breakfast, when it is just family again, "not more than that; you won't be able to return next year if you don't manage to find a spouse this year. But four months ought to be enough." "I am very grateful to you, Uncle," you say. "Only doing my best for the family," he replies, somewhat pompously. "And giving you the opportunity to do your best, in turn. Depending on whose eye you catch, you may be able to secure me a spot of influence commensurate with our family's honor, if not its recent fortunes." "Even if you can't do that," says your father, "a match with a suitor of means can improve our family's fortunes." "And secure your own comfort," says your mother. "And then after you are married, you can chaperone me when it is my turn to be presented at Court!" says Mateo. What about you? What are you hoping to get out of this?
Your Options are :
1) Security. I want to make a good marriage with someone wealthy, so I don't have to worry about money any longer. 2) Fun. I'll never have any here in the country! This is my only chance. 3) True love. Surely among all those courtiers, there is someone destined for me, just like in a fairy tale… 4) The chance to influence important decisions. 5) Adventure! Nothing ever happens here, but things happen there! 6) I don't want to go, actually.
You soak your gown in the water and tear the piece of your cloth , and run into the barn. It's like running into an oven. The flames are higher and hotter every second as they gobble down the stacks of hay. You use the wet cloth to beat aside the fire for just long enough to reach Francisco. Then you grab his hand and run, pulling him after you. Flames hiss in your ears and lick at your sandals, and both his clothing and yours is on fire when you stagger into the barnyard. The grooms are there by then; they grab Francisco and you and push you down into the dirt, smothering out the flames
You hear shouting. It seems that Clara succeeded in waking the household, and here they all are–your mother and father and siblings and most of the servants. Your father takes charge of the situation, and under his management, the fire is quickly put out. Your mother cries, alternately praising you for saving Francisco and berating you and Francisco both for stupidity. When the excitement is over, the entire family returns to the house.
You walk through the vineyards, through the courtyard, and towards your family's somewhat shabby villa. The villa is old and well-constructed, but not as well kept as it might be. Underneath the trellis of bright flowers, for instance, the lintel could really use painting. But the family simply does not have the money to keep up appearances as they should be kept…. Your great-grandfather was a Conde, and your great-aunt was a Condesa, and you have a second cousin or something who is a Condesa now. But your father is only an hidalgo–a younger member of a noble house. He has the title Don for courtesy, and he has a fine house in the country, but he doesn't have anything else. Not much money, and no power. Just the house and the family name. And so you don't have anything else, either, as you approach your sixteenth birthday–when you officially come of age. Far away in the capital city of Orovilla, things are happening. There Life Mages and Death Mages study to advance their art; there young men and women enjoy masques and balls and hunts and jousts; there wise and devious advisors lurk at the edges of the monarch's glittering Court. Perhaps it is not quite true that nothing ever happens here. Now that something has, are you feeling glad that life here is usually calm and kind of dull?
Your options are :
1) Yes, actually. 2) No, not at all! I'd like more excitement on a fairly regular basis.
You rip off your shirt (thinking like that incredible green guy), but now is hardly the time for modesty–soak it in the water trough, and run into the barn. It's like running into an oven. The flames are higher and hotter every second as they gobble down the stacks of hay. You use the wet shirt to beat aside the fire for just long enough to reach Francisco. Then you grab his hand and run, pulling him after you. Flames hiss in your ears and lick at your shoes, and both his clothing and yours is on fire when you stagger into the barnyard. The grooms are there by then; they grab Francisco and you and push you down into the dirt, smothering out the flames
You hear shouting. It seems that Clara succeeded in waking the household, and here they all are–your mother and father and siblings and most of the servants. Your father takes charge of the situation, and under his management, the fire is quickly put out. Your mother cries, alternately praising you for saving Francisco and berating you and Francisco both for stupidity. When the excitement is over, the entire family returns to the house.
You walk through the vineyards, through the courtyard, and towards your family's somewhat shabby villa. The villa is old and well-constructed, but not as well kept as it might be. Underneath the trellis of bright flowers, for instance, the lintel could really use painting. But the family simply does not have the money to keep up appearances as they should be kept…. Your great-grandfather was a Conde, and your great-aunt was a Condesa, and you have a second cousin or something who is a Condesa now. But your father is only an hidalgo–a younger member of a noble house. He has the title Don for courtesy, and he has a fine house in the country, but he doesn't have anything else. Not much money, and no power. Just the house and the family name. And so you don't have anything else, either, as you approach your sixteenth birthday–when you officially come of age. Far away in the capital city of Orovilla, things are happening. There Life Mages and Death Mages study to advance their art; there young men and women enjoy masques and balls and hunts and jousts; there wise and devious advisors lurk at the edges of the monarch's glittering Court. Perhaps it is not quite true that nothing ever happens here. Now that something has, are you feeling glad that life here is usually calm and kind of dull?
Your options are :
1) Yes, actually. 2) No, not at all! I'd like more excitement on a fairly regular basis.
You look at yourself in the mirror, admiring your new coat. It is made of silk, in a rich purple shade that allows your thick black hair to be shown to best advantage, and edged with ribbon and lace that perfectly set off your brown eyes. Your father has loaned you an emerald tiepin to fasten your cravat, and it winks at your throat. It makes you look suddenly much older. Mateo claps his hands in delight. "Come on, Ashwathamma! I can hear guests arriving! It's time to go downstairs!"
You stand with your mother and father, receiving guests and graciously accepting their best wishes. The guests are mostly families from nearby estates, plus a few friends of your parents' from farther away. Everyone looks most splendid, dressed in formal coats and beautiful gowns in a rainbow of colors. Everyone has a smile for you. Some of the adults look at you appraisingly–only to be expected as you are now considered to be of marriageable age–and many of the youngsters of your age try to flirt. You flirt back…but only a little, since your mother and Aunt Leonor are standing nearby.
There are many lovely young women to flirt with. You stand in the receiving line for what seems to be hours. Behind you, the guests circulate and talk, and snippets of gossip drift to your ears. "…did you hear about Don Alonso's youngest? Foolish girl, she turned down a most advantageous proposal last year–and it was her third Season at Court!" "What does she think to do now? She can't possibly offer a proposal to anyone; her parents cannot afford to set her up in her own household…" It is the way of things. One either courts or is courted. A youngster of sixteen or so is courted, generally by a well-established adult of twenty-five or thirty. Among the nobility, an eldest child is likely to have his or her own household, and seek to bring a husband or wife into it. Younger children are courted by others. There are exceptions, of course: wealthy parents may be able to provide all their children with sufficient inheritance to set up households, and poverty-stricken families–like yours–cannot even do it for their eldest. "I heard that she turned down that proposal because she had hopes of Doña Beatriz offering for her!" "Foolish indeed! Doña Beatriz has no money to support a wife!" "I heard that Beatriz's sister Eugenia is having a love affair with Don Carlos de Vargas…" "With Don Carlos? But he is a Life Mage, and she is a Death Mage! How shocking!" That, too, is the way of the world. There are Death Mage families and Life Mage families. One tends to marry within one's set. Except for the Queen, of course. Queen Agustina, like all the Monarchs of Iberia, has married across mage lines. She is a Death Mage, and her King Consort a Life Mage. This means their children are more likely to be Life Mages, and so a Life Mage will succeed a Death Mage to the throne. That has always been the way of things. Of course, it is only the way of things if the Queen and King Consort succeed in producing an heir. "…I heard Their Majesties have lost another unborn child," you hear another thread of gossip start. "How dreadful!" It is dreadful. Their Majesties have only the one child, and she is a Death Mage. She cannot succeed to the throne. "I heard that the Queen has commanded young Tomás de Reyes to be brought to Court…" Aunt Leonor clears her throat and changes the subject, reminding the speaker that there are youngsters listening.
You have taken only the first step when your uncle's voice booms out, calling for everyone's attention. "I wish to propose a toast!" he says. "In honor of my nephew's birthday!" There is a smattering of applause. Goblets are raised. "And I wish to make an announcement!" Uncle Pedro continues. He pauses to be sure he has the attention of the entire room, and then says, "I have been so fortunate as to receive the favor of our most gracious Queen! In recognition of my service abroad, she has awarded me with a suite of rooms in the palace, and given me permission to bring my nephew Ashwathamma to Court when the Season starts in the autumn. Ashwathamma, you shall have a proper Season after all."
"I can manage a Season's worth of coats," he adds the following morning over breakfast, when it is just family again, "not more than that; you won't be able to return next year if you don't manage to find a spouse this year. But four months ought to be enough." "I am very grateful to you, Uncle," you say. "Only doing my best for the family," he replies, somewhat pompously. "And giving you the opportunity to do your best, in turn. Depending on whose eye you catch, you may be able to secure me a spot of influence commensurate with our family's honor, if not its recent fortunes." "Even if you can't do that," says your father, "a match with a suitor of means can improve our family's fortunes." "And secure your own comfort," says your mother. "And then after you are married, you can chaperone me when it is my turn to be presented at Court!" says Mateo. What about you? What are you hoping to get out of this?
Your Options are :
1) Security. I want to make a good marriage with someone wealthy, so I don't have to worry about money any longer. 2) Fun. I'll never have any here in the country! This is my only chance. 3) True love. Surely among all those courtiers, there is someone destined for me, just like in a fairy tale… 4) The chance to influence important decisions. 5) Adventure! Nothing ever happens here, but things happen there! 6) I don't want to go, actually.
Your family, like most noble families of Iberia, has magical talent. Unfortunately, you are Death Mages. Death Magic is very useful in combat, but it tends towards firebolts and so forth–in other words, it is better at starting fires than at putting them out. Francisco almost certainly started this one with a firebolt gone wrong. But then an idea occurs to you. You run around to the back of the barn, and, summoning all your concentration, throw a firebolt at the back of it. A hole explodes in the wood. You run towards the hole, and it is like running towards an oven. The fire within is hotter and higher every second. But you've provided Francisco with an escape route, and he stumbles towards it just as you get there. You grab him and pull him to safety. The grooms have arrived by then, and you hear the head groom shouting orders at the other two. They start carrying water from the well nearby to put out the fire.
You hear shouting. It seems that Clara succeeded in waking the household, and here they all are–your mother and father and siblings and most of the servants. Your father takes charge of the situation, and under his management, the fire is quickly put out. Your mother cries, alternately praising you for your clever use of magic and berating Francisco for stupidity. When the excitement is over, the entire family returns to the house.
You walk through the vineyards, through the courtyard, and towards your family's somewhat shabby villa. The villa is old and well-constructed, but not as well kept as it might be. Underneath the trellis of bright flowers, for instance, the lintel could really use painting. But the family simply does not have the money to keep up appearances as they should be kept…. Your great-grandfather was a Conde, and your great-aunt was a Condesa, and you have a second cousin or something who is a Condesa now. But your father is only an hidalgo–a younger member of a noble house. He has the title Don for courtesy, and he has a fine house in the country, but he doesn't have anything else. Not much money, and no power. Just the house and the family name. And so you don't have anything else, either, as you approach your sixteenth birthday–when you officially come of age. Far away in the capital city of Orovilla, things are happening. There Life Mages and Death Mages study to advance their art; there young men and women enjoy masques and balls and hunts and jousts; there wise and devious advisors lurk at the edges of the monarch's glittering Court. Perhaps it is not quite true that nothing ever happens here. Now that something has, are you feeling glad that life here is usually calm and kind of dull?
Your Options are
1) Yes, actually. 2) No, not at all! I'd like more excitement on a fairly regular basis.
Part I: Choice of Romance A high-pitched shriek splits the sweltering summer air: "Help! Oh, help, help!" Your youngest sister Clara skids to a stop in front of you. "Francisco and I were playing in the barn!" she sobs. "He was showing me spells, and he set the hay on fire, and now–" A breath of wind springs up, and the acrid scent of smoke reaches your nostrils. The barn is some ways away from your parents' villa and the vineyards–there's that. But it is full of hay for feeding the horses, and hay catches fire so fast–it would be so easy for the wooden barn to burn to the ground– The smell of smoke grows stronger the closer you get. By the time you reach the barnyard, your throat and eyes are stinging. You can't see flames from the yard, but as you approach the door, you can feel their heat. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the grooms running towards you. Then you reach the barn door and look inside. Your seven-year-old brother Francisco, face white with terror, is backed up against the barn's far wall, surrounded by leaping flames. What are you going to do?
Your options are :
1) I don't know! There's nothing I can do! 2) I rush into the barn to grab Francisco. 3) I shout to the grooms to bring buckets of water. The best way to save Francisco is to put out the fire. 4) Like Francisco, I know some magic. Maybe there's a way to use magic to get him out.
You Born in torn no you bought in porn cover they smuggled you at your birth hour you think you are hip n rich they just made you their own bitch think you have free will n choice See their are things better than you like Plushie Tortoise
Whore lord hell you ya lord o whore ?? nd you hide your wee ass when its sore you hella go die with wee pinches fella think his whorelord with three inches...........