Corvus' Short Scenes!!

[Medium]

I have no idea.

I just do... a lot of stuff. And I get information.

[Morningtide]

Fair

[Edema Rue]

Scud I'm out of rep. That's incredible. 

[Medium]

Scene #96: Ace and Raven

This is a test writing piece I did to get the vibe for both the story and one of the characters in a Webtoon Canvas that me and my best friend are starting work on.

Spoiler

Azrael Redmond.

Heron Faulkner.

Two names, whispered reverently throughout the Strip.

Owners of the Seven Rings Hotel and CaSINo and The Crow’s Gambit Hotel and Casino.

Aliases?

Ace.

Raven.

Notorious criminals, both of them. And best of friends.

Faulkner, sleepless and cruel. Madly in love with his wife, who is regarded almost in a matriarchal manner throughout The Crow’s Gambit. Faulkner himself, a god. Stylish, suave, exceptionally cunning. He’s most certainly got skeletons in his closet. Careful around him.

Redmond, sexy and clever. Biggest name on the Strip, that one. They don’t take kindly to toying with the house, and have more skeletons in their closet than Faulkner. Redmond loves to throw lavish, lavish parties, and they toy with everyone there, as if they have them tied on the end of a string. There’s no evidence, but I can guess they’ve done wire fraud, murder, extortion, and much, much more. Both them and Faulkner.

So, tell me, what makes you think these two should just be left to their own devices?
I have reason to believe they’re planning something. Something big. Something massive. There’s 2 parties coming up.

I’ve spoken to Faulkner, he’s been quite dismissive. Cool, calculating, vaguely threatening. I’ll corner either him or Redmond.

I’ll get to the bottom of this.

I swear I will.

The House has to lose eventually.

 

[Morningtide]

Sweet! A bit different than you normally do, which is cool!

[The Wandering Wizard]

10 minutes ago, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #96: Ace and Raven

This is a test writing piece I did to get the vibe for both the story and one of the characters in a Webtoon Canvas that me and my best friend are starting work on.

  Hide contents

Azrael Redmond.

Heron Faulkner.

Two names, whispered reverently throughout the Strip.

Owners of the Seven Rings Hotel and CaSINo and The Crow’s Gambit Hotel and Casino.

Aliases?

Ace.

Raven.

Notorious criminals, both of them. And best of friends.

Faulkner, sleepless and cruel. Madly in love with his wife, who is regarded almost in a matriarchal manner throughout The Crow’s Gambit. Faulkner himself, a god. Stylish, suave, exceptionally cunning. He’s most certainly got skeletons in his closet. Careful around him.

Redmond, sexy and clever. Biggest name on the Strip, that one. They don’t take kindly to toying with the house, and have more skeletons in their closet than Faulkner. Redmond loves to throw lavish, lavish parties, and they toy with everyone there, as if they have them tied on the end of a string. There’s no evidence, but I can guess they’ve done wire fraud, murder, extortion, and much, much more. Both them and Faulkner.

So, tell me, what makes you think these two should just be left to their own devices?
I have reason to believe they’re planning something. Something big. Something massive. There’s 2 parties coming up.

I’ve spoken to Faulkner, he’s been quite dismissive. Cool, calculating, vaguely threatening. I’ll corner either him or Redmond.

I’ll get to the bottom of this.

I swear I will.

The House has to lose eventually.

 

But never bet against the house!

Very interesting!

[Medium]

Wrote this in a spur of sudden creative drive.

Scene #97: Evolution

Spoiler

So often I write poems of Her, or Him, or Them.

But today is something different.

So often I use my talent to highlight the lives of Them, of Him, of She.

But today I highlight the life of Me.

And the life of All.

Because I’ve come to realize something.

People often look up at the sky,

And they think,

“Look at this vast, open, beautiful void of expansive nothing and everything. It is so large. If it is so large, then what am I?”

They say to themselves,

“I am but a small, insignificant speck. I am nothing compared to this Nothing, this Everything.”

And they’re half-right.

While yes, they are small on the scale of the universe physically… 

But on the scale of the universe existentially,

They are a Miracle.

A Blessing.

They are the realization, the cultivation and culmination of 14 Billion Years of Cosmic Evolution.

They are the Waking Universe staring back at itself, at its ancestors.

It’s brothers and sisters in the stars.

And while they say, while they whisper,

“I am Nothing. I am Small. Insignificant. Worthless.”

In truth,

They are Everything. They are Massive. Significant. Worthy.

They are the result of billions of years of coincidences, of chance, of sheer happenstance. It is because of universal blunder, mere accident that they are here today.

Do not take that for granted.

The life of a human being is something to be cherished, adored, lifted up, encouraged.

I am worth more than whatever they may say about me.

I am everything and anything I believe I can be.

Whatever they may say,

Whatever they may think,

When the Universe slowly dies out, when the Expanse of Everything slowly burns out,

The History of Time And Space will remember me.

And you. 

And the person next to you.

And the person next to them.

And so on.

It will remember the wonders it created, the wonders that Lived, that Breathed, that Experienced.

And the Universe will die peacefully, knowing that in the end, what it did, was create the most beautiful thing to have ever existed.

I.

You.

Him.

Her.

Them.

All Of Them.

 

Edited February 27, 2023 by CalanoCorvus
edited for grammar

[The Wandering Wizard]

1 minute ago, CalanoCorvus said:

Wrote this in a spur of sudden creative drive.

Scene #97: Evolution

  Hide contents

So often I write poems of Her, or Him, or Them.

But today is something different.

So often I use my talent to highlight the lives of Them, of Him, of She.

But today I highlight the life of Me.

And the life of All.

Because I’ve come to realize something.

People often look up at the sky,

And they think,

“Look at this vast, open, beautiful void of expansive nothing and everything. It is so large. If it is so large, then what am I?”

They say to themselves,

“I am but a small, insignificant speck. I am nothing compared to this Nothing, this Everything.”

And they’re half-right.

While yes, they are small on the scale of the universe physically… 

But on the scale of the universe existentially,

They are a Miracle.

A Blessing.

They are the realization, the cultivation and culmination of 14 Billion Years of Cosmic Evolution.

They are the Waking Universe staring back at itself, at its ancestors.

It’s brothers and sisters in the stars.

And while they say, while they whisper,

“I am Nothing. I am Small. Insignificant. Worthless.”

In truth,

They are Everything. They are Massive. Significant. Worthy.

They are the result of billions of years of coincidences, of chance, of sheer happenstance. It is because of universal blunder, mere accident that they are here today.

Do not take the for granted.

The life of a human being is something to be cherished, adored, lifted up, encouraged.

I am worth more than whatever they may say about me.

I am everything and anything I believe I can be.

Whatever they may say,

Whatever they may think,

When the Universe slowly dies out, when the Expanse of Everything slowly burns out,

The History of Time And Space will remember me.

And you. 

And the person next to you.

And the person next to them.

And so on.

It will remember the wonders it created, the wonders that Lived, that Breathed, that Experienced.

And the Universe will die peacefully, knowing that in the end, what it did, was create the most beautiful thing to have ever existed.

I.

You.

Him.

Her.

Them.

All Of Them.

 

Woah! That's incredible Calano!

[Edema Rue]

That’s amazing. 

[Morningtide]

That's absolutely fantastic!! You never disappoint !!

[Medium]

Scene #98: The Funeral

Found myself coming back to Cyrus's world...

Spoiler

The sun was sinking low over the horizon as Cyrus looked on.

The boat sat on the banks of the River Tuvin, the city above a gleaming white symbol to humanity's prosperity, overlooking the event at its base.

Members of the Clergy were present, to perform the proper services. Cyrus’ friends were present, and stood near. Attica’s sister stood closest to him, holding on to him just as hard as he was holding on to her.

Cyrus had specifically requested that High Priest Viloran not be present today, but that another High Priest, one more amicable, lead the ceremony. High Priest Riona had stepped up to the task. She stood next to the boat, waiting until Cyrus gave the go ahead.

He looked down. His wife lay in the boat, and she looked so peaceful. Almost as if she were sleeping, a hint of a smile on her lips.

Lips Cyrus would never kiss again.

Her hands were folded peacefully across her stomach.

Hands Cyrus would never hold again.

She lay, in full battle armor, to be sent off to the Above. The boat would travel down the river, where it would reach the entrance to the Spirit Forest, where it would be taken Above.

He knelt, and placed a hand on Attica’s forehead. A tear fell down his face, down onto Attica’s cheek.

He did not wipe it away.

Kalador was almost defeated. A few small bands were what remained, before the main attack on their Klanland; the attack would be swift, decisive, and bloody. Very few High Warriors existed in the ranks of Kalador, but however many were there, Cyrus would deal with them.

“You are the light of my life,” Cyrus said, “May your Journey be smooth and swift, and may He Who Is Above grant you safe haven in the Above with Him.”

Cyrus had so much more to say, but it all jumbled together in his mind and mouth, and he could not say any more. He studied his wife's face one last time, before rising, taking a shaky breath, and stepping back.

Attica’s sister, Bianca, squeezed his arm.

Cyrus nodded to Riona, who nodded back solemnly.

“Today’s ceremony,” She began softly, “Commemorates and celebrates the life of Attica Deepwater, of House Riora. She died in battle, defending her Klanmen and allies. Honorably, she fought till the very end.”

Riona paused.

“Attica Deepwater was beloved by many. So, so many. Most notably, her husband, Cyrus Darkeye, who survives her and is present today. The pair of them were inseparable, and it was because of their marriage, and their pushing on societal norms- long outdated- that the alliances made to fight against Klan Kalador were made. It is because of them that only one battle remains in this long, long war.”

Cyrus looked down, tears forming in his eyes. Bianca sniffled next to him.

Riona stepped closer to the boat, and waved a hand. Several Low Priests began to push it into the water.

“Attica Deepwater, I bless you with the strength, determination, and knowledge to pass beyond, to the After. I bless your soul, that He Who Is Above might accept you with open arms, as he has accepted thousands of Fallen before you. Attica Deepwater, you will be missed, and remembered, and beloved by all.”

The priests pushed the boat into the current, and Cyrus whispered a fervent prayer to He Who Is Above, praying that her soul might make it there, and that he might move on and recover.

The boat sailed slowly away.

Along with any remaining hope that this couldn’t be real.

Scene #99: Every day.

Spoiler

“Did… did you ever actually care? Did you ever actually, truly love me?”

“Absolutely.”

“You never proved it.”

“Yes I did.”

“When?”

“Every day. With every word, every breath, I tried to prove. It was never me. It was you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It was you who wouldn’t listen to my love. It was you who looked away every time I looked at you.”

“I- that’s not true.”

“Is it?”

“...”

“I told you I would fight the world for you. I would stand between you and the strongest man on earth, without even a  thought for my own safety, if it meant you could live. I would have followed you to the ends of the earth! To the ends of the universe, to the end of all known existence, if it meant you would have me!”

“I- I…”

“Why didn’t you care? Why didn’t you love me back? What did I do?”

“No- it wasn’t you, it never was, I…”

“Exactly. You never cared. You never have. I devoted my life to you, and all you did was brush me aside like some unwanted toy.”

“...”

“It’s over.”

“Wait, no-”

“No! Don’t try to keep me around to keep up your story, your perfect life that you got so wrapped up in preserving that you didn't stop to think about how it would affect me! You got so… so caught up in putting on a show, that you forgot to check if I was ever okay. I’m leaving. It’s done.”

 

[Edema Rue]

I'm going to cry, I was overthinking life today and that's so good! That second one...bro you got skills.

[Morningtide]

AHH! I really like that world that you've done a few from! And the other one is just very emotional and sweet

[Medium]

Scene #100: Wandering.

Woah.

100 scenes. it took.... 11 months and 5 days :3

Crazy. Thanks for reading them all, you guys.

Spoiler

I wander.

Aimlessly.

Through an endless library. Books, dust covered, dust clean, line the eternal, infinite shelves.

Such knowledge, power, such beauty, lies in this aimless, foreign, empty eternity of knowing.

And yet,

None of it appeals to me.

The ink from books is wasted upon my fingers, upon my eyes.

I read none of it.

I cannot read any of it.

It is not my job.

It is not my duty.

It is not my place.

The Knowledge of Eternity, The Books of Humanity, all these sacred, powerful texts.

And I am left to walk.

Left to wander this endless maze, these infinite corridors of paper and ink.

Will I find my way out? I doubt it.

Will I stop walking? I doubt it.

Esmerelda…

I will never see you again.

The feel of these books is nothing compared to the feel of your hand on my cheek.

The smell of the pages, older than time, is nothing compared to the smell of your hair.

I shuffle, through the ages, the transcribed histories of Everything.

Alone, cold, and haunted.

 

[Telrao]

Woahhhh Calano this one is awesome! The image I get from this is woahh

Congrats on 100! You have definitely earned some rep, my good sir!

[Medium]

Scene #101: My Dream.

So, it's 6:53 AM, and I literally just dreamt this and I'm going to cry because I did not like this dream and I had to write it down.

So here it is.

Luna is my gf obv. Ella is my ex.

Narrated from my POV.

Spoiler

“She isn’t at home right now,” Her mother says.

“What- What do you mean?” I say, “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Says her mother, “She took the car, and she left.”

I thank her, and hang up the phone. I sit there for a decent while. Contemplating.

Where has she gone?

Why?

I stand, go to the kitchen, and pack a few snacks into a bag. I run out to my car, and I get in.

I drive out of my neighborhood, and I want to turn right, towards her house.

But my gut says go left.

So I go left.

And as I go down the street, I see her car.

Luna’s car. Parked in the QT parking lot.

I turn into QT, and as I pass her car, she waves from where she sits on top of the hood.

I park, and as I’m about to get out, somebody else is approaching.

And it’s Ella.

My ex.

I gather my things, and step out of my car.

“No,” Ella says, “Get out of here. Go away.”

“Absolutely not,” I push back, “I’ve brought some things for her.”

“Well then let me deliver them,” Ella says, and she goes for the bag of stuff in my hand.

I step back, and kick outwards at her in warning.

“No,” I say.

Luna walks over, and doesn’t say anything.

 

For a bit after this, I don’t remember what happened. But I do remember a bit later.

 

“Why won’t you let me help her?” I ask Ella, “No one knew where she went. I’m trying to help my girlfriend.”

“And I won’t let you,” Ella says firmly.

“Why not?” I shout.

“Because I still love you!” Ella shouts back.

I don’t see Luna’s reaction.

But tears and emotions immediately spring to my eyes and mind.

“Don’t,” I say, my voice warbling, “Don’t say-“

I take a second to compose myself.

“I’ve moved on. I love her now.” I say, closing my eyes.

 

And then I wake up.

 

[Telrao]

On 10/03/2023 at 11:54 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #101: My Dream.

So, it's 6:53 AM, and I literally just dreamt this and I'm going to cry because I did not like this dream and I had to write it down.

So here it is.

Luna is my gf obv. Ella is my ex.

Narrated from my POV.

  Reveal hidden contents

“She isn’t at home right now,” Her mother says.

“What- What do you mean?” I say, “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Says her mother, “She took the car, and she left.”

I thank her, and hang up the phone. I sit there for a decent while. Contemplating.

Where has she gone?

Why?

I stand, go to the kitchen, and pack a few snacks into a bag. I run out to my car, and I get in.

I drive out of my neighborhood, and I want to turn right, towards her house.

But my gut says go left.

So I go left.

And as I go down the street, I see her car.

Luna’s car. Parked in the QT parking lot.

I turn into QT, and as I pass her car, she waves from where she sits on top of the hood.

I park, and as I’m about to get out, somebody else is approaching.

And it’s Ella.

My ex.

I gather my things, and step out of my car.

“No,” Ella says, “Get out of here. Go away.”

“Absolutely not,” I push back, “I’ve brought some things for her.”

“Well then let me deliver them,” Ella says, and she goes for the bag of stuff in my hand.

I step back, and kick outwards at her in warning.

“No,” I say.

Luna walks over, and doesn’t say anything.

 

For a bit after this, I don’t remember what happened. But I do remember a bit later.

 

“Why won’t you let me help her?” I ask Ella, “No one knew where she went. I’m trying to help my girlfriend.”

“And I won’t let you,” Ella says firmly.

“Why not?” I shout.

“Because I still love you!” Ella shouts back.

I don’t see Luna’s reaction.

But tears and emotions immediately spring to my eyes and mind.

“Don’t,” I say, my voice warbling, “Don’t say-“

I take a second to compose myself.

“I’ve moved on. I love her now.” I say, closing my eyes.

 

And then I wake up.

 

Oooofff ma duuuuuude

That's a harsh dream, man. Take some rep in consolation! *throws muffins*

[Medium]

Scene #102: Not Anymore

Spoiler

The hero bent down, pressing his fingers down into the soft soil. Slowly, it had grown more fertile as he had carefully tended to it. It was almost ready to be planted.

He smiled softly to himself, the scars across his nose, mouth, and cheeks wrinkling.

He ran his hand through the soil a bit longer, before rising.

He picked up his sack off the ground, hefting it onto his shoulder with little more than a grunt. A lesser man might have struggled to pick up such a heavy weight.

Not this hero.

He walked back to the shed that sat against his house, dropping the sack off just inside the door.

He walked back to the fields, this time with a watering can from the shed.

Lightly, gently, he sprinkled water on the delicate dust that would soon yield a fine crop.

Several times, he walked back to the well in the center of the field, filling his watering can and taking a sip with a cupped hand for himself.

He watered a bit more, then heard a soft boom from the distance. While quiet, it was powerful.

He looked up, seeing a small cloud on the horizon. He sighed.

Men were so evil. The hero knew this well; he had worked for men that were so, so evil.

And that’s why he had left. Because he didn’t want to work for men, for groups of men, for nations that aligned themselves with madmen.

Madmen who just wanted to watch the world burn.

Men who aligned themselves with spiders, secretly spinning webs of deception and manipulation around them, until the men were no longer the ones in power.

So, the hero had left.

Left to this little village.

Set up a farm.

And now he lived, his armor, his sword, his axe hung up in his house. Away from him.

He peacefully farmed.

The voices murmured, oh yes, but the hero had spent so long beating them into submission, that whatever they did murmur was easily shoved out of his mind.

He did not want to shed blood.

He did not want to kill.

He only wanted to live.

In peace.

On his farm.

 

…

 

Time passed. The hero’s scars were slowly starting to fade, but it wasn’t as noticeable. Every few weeks, a new child would appear at the fence around his fence, watching him.

The children of the village whispered. They whispered of the strange scarred man who lived on the outskirts of town, who spent all his days with his hands and feet in the dirt.

They whispered, as children do, of what this strange man must have done to get those scars.

They stood at the fence, and they watched as the hero pressed small chunks of potato into the ground, covering them with dirt. He would stand, sprinkle water on it, then move on to the next hole in the dirt he had prepared.

At one point, the hero would look up, at the child at the fence. The child would run away then, giggling, and the hero would return to his work.

Today, as usual, a child appeared at the fence. The hero took note of it, but continued his work.

He put a potato chunk in the ground, covered it with dirt, watered it, and stood.

And the child was right in front of him.

He cursed, jumping backwards.

The child giggled. He was probably about 7 or 8 years old.

He had blonde hair, green eyes, and wore a simple tunic and trousers. Probably a farmer's child in the village.

He reminded the hero of another kid he had once known. A much older kid, in his teens, but a kid all the same.

The hero knelt down.

“Hey, kid,” He said, “What’re you up to?”

“Proving my friends wrong,” The kid said, a smile on his face, “They say you kill and eat any kids that come here.”

The hero laughed. “No, no,” He said, but inside his heart twisted.

The voices, in the back of his mind, murmured.

Could the kid know? Could the village know who he was? Was it possible?

No, surely not.

“Nothing like that,” The hero said, “I’m just a simple farmer.”

“But you have those scars,” The kid said, reaching out to touch one, “Where’d you get them?”

The hero gently grabbed the kid's wrist, lowering his hand.

“I got them a long time ago,” He said, “In a faraway place.”

He walked past the kid, kneeling again to plant another potato.

“You’re one of those heroes, aren’t you?” The kid asked, in a voice brimming with simple childish curiosity and innocence and wonder, “Like in the stories?”

The hero paused. He put a potato chunk into the ground, covered with dirt, and sprinkled some water on it.

“Not anymore,” He said, “I haven’t been that for a long, long time.”

“What was it like?” The kid asked.

The hero stood, turning to look down at the kid.

“It was hard. And painful,” He said, “Now, run along. Your mother is surely looking for you.”

The kid looked at the sun, then frowned. “Goodbye, hero,” He said, and dashed off.

“Goodbye,” The hero said.

He turned around, then moved on to plant the next potato.

 

[S. Stormy]

Ooooooooooh, I love that! Very intriguing, and sad.

the voices remind me of a certain character in the Wingfeather Saga

[Morningtide]

D: My feels! You hurt them! But seriously though, that's one of my favorites you've ever written! I really love it. 

[Medium]

12 hours ago, Morningtide said:

D: My feels! You hurt them! But seriously though, that's one of my favorites you've ever written! I really love it. 

You say that like every other one I write is one of your favorites lol

[Edema Rue]

Ooh, that one was good, it reminded me of the Kingkiller Chronicles series.

[Morningtide]

12 hours ago, CalanoCorvus said:

You say that like every other one I write is one of your favorites lol

It's truuuuuuee I knowwwww but they're all so gooooooood! You're definitely improving so each new one is one of my favorites because they keep getting better

[Medium]

Scene #103: Gliding

Spoiler

On a faraway world,

In a faraway galaxy,

There surely must live a creature.

A creature that flies high, high up in the sky.

Far above even the highest clouds,

Flying high in the serene, silent blue.

Peacefully gliding on the back of the wind, on the top of the river of air.

Serenely floating along, not a care in its mind, not a whim in its heart.

How I envy such a creature.

How I envy the way it glides up high, the way it soars along, under the vibrant blue of the sky,

Under the subtle, gentle, permeating warmth of its sun.

How I envy the way it simply floats along, in this current in the sky, soaring peacefully, gently, serenely overhead.

Over clouds. Over oceans. Over kingdoms.

Perhaps the people of that world know of such a creature.

Perhaps they have named it, perhaps they call it a glyder.

Perhaps it has feathers, perhaps it has scales.

Perhaps it has a beak, perhaps it has a soft mouth.

Perhaps it has legs, perhaps just wings.

I envy the way that these people must look at this creature, watch it soar over the tops of cities, villages, towns.

I envy the way that they envy the creature, as they must know more about it than I.

And yet, even with such a creature living on a faraway world, in a faraway galaxy, in my mind,

I still envy it.

I envy its lightness. It’s freedom.

It’s uncaring ability to go wherever, whenever, however it desires.

I envy the ability it has to not worry about the future, but to simply enjoy the ride.

How beautiful that must be,

How beautiful are those who are like this creature,

How beautiful the mind of those who are free,

For those, 

Are the minds that will go on to do great things.

And how beautiful are the minds of those who do not feel this way.

How beautiful are the minds, the feelings, the thoughts of those who feel trapped, who worry,

About the future, about the now, about the past.

How beautiful are they, for they do not yet see,

See the opportunities ahead of them.

The beauty that is in it all.

These creatures.

Their freedom.

Our freedom.

Our choice.

My choice.

Scene #104: The Avian

Spoiler

Alyx looked up.

At the statue in the square,

The statue of The Avian.

The Avian, the savior of their kind, the First of the Wings. His statue stood proudly, arms raised, hands in fists to the sky, wings sprouting from his back, flared wide and powerfully.

The plaque at the foot of the statue read, Turn your face towards the sun. Let the shadows fall behind you.

-The Avian

“How did you do it?” She asked.

“How did you learn to leave it all behind?”

The statue did not respond. It was, after all, just a statue. “All my life,” Alyx said, “I was taught to trust in you, to believe that you knew.

“I don’t think you did know. I don’t think you had any idea what the hell you were doing.”

Alyx’s fists clenched.

“You might be worshiped, by everyone here,” Alyx said, “But not by me. Because I think that everything you did is glorified, over exaggerated, and fake.”

The statue did not respond.

“But, you somehow left it all behind,” Alyx said, “Everything you knew, everything you loved, you left it behind. But only after they forced you to. They saw your wings,” She said, her own wings bristling, “And mocked you for it. Scolded you.”

She cocked her head at the statue. “Why is that, I wonder?” She asked quietly.

Her eyes fell to the plaque at the bottom.

“Ah,” She muttered, “That’s why.”

She raised her eyes, to the prideful eyes of the Avian, looking dramatically into the distance.

“Leave the shadows behind, leave what could hurt you behind, look only to the sun, towards what can help you.”

Alyx frowned.

“Fine.”

She launched into the air, flew over the open air around the Skylands, then dove.

Humanity, who had once made a mockery of her kind,

Would burn.

 

[Edema Rue]

OOOOoooOoOooooOOOOOooOOOooooooohhh...

Those were both really good.