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les-degustations-ugo · 3 months

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🇫🇷❓❓Hello les amoureux du tire-bouchon. Et vous, aimez-vous les blanc de noirs en champagne ❓❓🇫🇷

🍇🍷Champagne Cœur des Bar Blanc de Noirs de la maison @champagne_devaux 🍇🍷:

🍇 :

100% Pinot Noir.

👁️ :

Robe de couleur jaune paille avec une belle finesse de bulles

👃 :

Un nez sur des notes de fruits blancs

💋 :

En bouche, on a un champagne avec une belle fraîcheur et de l'élégance. Sur des arômes de poires, pommes, brioches chaudes, noisettes torréfiées. L'équilibre est parfait entre le fruité et une petite tension très appréciable. Une bonne longueur en bouche avec une finale sur des notes miellées et ce petit côté vineux que j'aime beaucoup.

📜En résumé📜 :

Un très beau champagne Blanc de noirs comme je les aime. Du fruit bien mûr, de l'élégance et de l'onctuosité. Un pur régal.

🧆Dégusté sur une volaille Rôtie 🧆.

🍷Quelques accords mets et vin possible avec cette cuvée🍷: Risotto au fromage de chèvre, Verrines au saumon fumé, Saumon fumé, Faisan au vin blanc, Mimolette vieille ou extra vieille,....

📌N'oubliez pas, boire un canon c'est sauver

un vigneron. Allez voir le site internet du domaine pour voir toutes les cuvées et promotions du moment📌.

🔞« L'abus d'alcool est dangereux pour la santé, à consommer avec modération »🔞 La plupart des vins ont ét dégustés et recrachés. Dégustation non rémunéré.

#lesdegustationsugo #wine #winelover #vino #winetasting #winetime #winelovers #food #instawine #redwine #winestagram #winery #beer #wineoclock #vin #sommelier #love #vinho #foodporn #winelife #instagood #whitewine #cocktails #drinks #bar #wein #italie #foodie #wineporn #boisson

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🗣️🇫🇷Description du domaine 🗣️🇫🇷

La Maison DEVAUX est au coeur d’une saga familiale qui débute avec les frères Jules et Auguste Devaux peu avant le milieu du XIXème siècle.

La Maison est ensuite établie et dirigée successivement par trois femmes d’énergie et de talent.

La première, Madame Claude-Josephte Devaux, (née Ducray), veuve à 39 ans, fonde en 1846 la Maison Vve A. Devaux à Épernay qu’elle dirige avec son fils François-Auguste.

Celui-ci épouse Augusta-Maria Herbin qui devient la seconde veuve Devaux à la mort de son mari en 1879. Champenoise de caractère, elle gère l’affaire jusqu’en 1895.

La marque connaît très vite le succès. Elle est partie intégrante de la renommée mondiale des vins de Champagne.

À la fin du XIXème siècle, DEVAUX exporte 75 % de sa production.

C’est en 1907, au décès de Charles-Auguste Devaux, que son épouse Marguerite Marie-Louise, née Hussenot, prend les rênes de l’entreprise à 31 ans et les garde jusqu’à son décès en 1951.

Ses deux fils prennent ensuite sa succession.

UNE PASSION PARTAGÉE

Champagne DEVAUX se conjugue aujourd’hui au pluriel. En effet, cette aventure familiale a été directement transmise il y a plus de 30 ans - avec une vision à long terme - à des familles de vignerons.

Elles se sont réunies dans un projet à taille humaine sur le modèle de la coopération associé à une forte exigence de qualité.

Alors dernier du nom et sans héritier, Jean-Pol Auguste Devaux confie en 1987 au groupe vinicole Union Auboise, les destinées de cette marque au passé prestigieux et à l’avenir prometteur.

Tout au long de l’année, les associés coopérateurs Champagne DEVAUX conduisent amoureusement la vigne à livrer ses meilleurs fruits. Ils déploient leurs efforts et leur savoir-faire pour élever les raisins au niveau d’excellence que requièrent le goût et le caractère d’un Grand Champagne.

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⏬🇫🇷Français dans les commentaires🇫🇷🇮🇹Italiano nei commenti 🇮🇹⏬

🇬🇧❓❓Hello corkscrew lovers. And you, do you like blanc de noirs in champagne ❓❓🇬🇧

🍇🍷Champagne Cœur des Bar Blanc de Noirs from the house @champagne_devaux 🍇🍷:

🍇:

100% Pinot Noir.

👁️:

Straw yellow color with beautiful fineness of bubbles

👃:

A nose with notes of white fruits

💋:

On the palate, we have a champagne with beautiful freshness and elegance. With aromas of pears, apples, hot brioches, roasted hazelnuts. The balance is perfect between fruitiness and a very appreciable little tension. A good length in the mouth with a finish of honeyed notes and this little winey side that I really like.

📜In summary📜:

A very beautiful Blanc de Noirs champagne as I like them. Very ripe fruit, elegance and smoothness. A pure treat.

🧆Tasted on roast poultry 🧆.

🍷Some food and wine pairings possible with this vintage🍷: Goat cheese risotto, Smoked salmon verrines, Smoked salmon, Pheasant in white wine, Old or extra old Mimolette,....

📌Don't forget, drinking a barrel is saving a winemaker. Go to the estate's website to see all the vintages and promotions of the moment📌.

🔞 “Alcohol abuse is dangerous for your health, consume in moderation”🔞 Most of the wines have been tasted and spat out.Unpaid tasting.

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🇬🇧🗣️Description of the domain 🗣️🇬🇧

Maison DEVAUX is at the heart of a family saga that began with the brothers Jules and Auguste Devaux shortly before the middle of the 19th century.

The House was then established and led successively by three women of energy and talent.

The first, Madame Claude-Josephte Devaux, (née Ducray), widowed at 39, founded the Vve A. Devaux House in Épernay in 1846, which she runs with her son François-Auguste.

He married Augusta-Maria Herbin who became Devaux's second widow on the death of her husband in 1879. A character from Champagne, she ran the business until 1895.

The brand quickly became successful. It is an integral part of the worldwide reputation of Champagne wines.

At the end of the 19th century, DEVAUX exported 75% of its production.

It was in 1907, on the death of Charles-Auguste Devaux, that his wife Marguerite Marie-Louise, née Hussenot, took over the reins of the company at the age of 31 and kept them until her death in 1951.

His two sons then take over.

A SHARED PASSION

Champagne DEVAUX is now combined in the plural. Indeed, this family adventure was directly transmitted more than 30 years ago - with a long-term vision - to families of winegrowers.

They came together in a project on a human scale on the model of cooperation associated with a strong demand for quality.

Then last of the name and without heir, Jean-Pol Auguste Devaux entrusts in 1987 to the wine group Union Auboise, the destinies of this brand with a prestigious past and a promising future.

Throughout the year, the Champagne DEVAUX cooperator partners lovingly lead the vines to deliver their best fruits. They deploy their efforts and their know-how to raise the grapes to the level of excellence required by the taste and character of a Grand Champagne.

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🇮🇹❓❓Ciao amanti dei cavatappi. E a te, ti piace il blanc de noirs nello champagne ❓❓🇮🇹

🍇🍷Champagne Cœur des Bar Blanc de Noirs della casa @champagne_devaux 🍇🍷:

🍇:

100% Pinot Nero.

👁️:

Colore giallo paglierino con bella finezza di bollicine

👃:

Un naso con note di frutti bianchi

💋:

Al palato abbiamo uno champagne di bella freschezza ed eleganza. Con aromi di pere, mele, brioches calde, nocciole tostate. L'equilibrio è perfetto tra il fruttato e un po' di tensione molto apprezzabile. Buona la persistenza in bocca con un finale di note mielate e questo piccolo lato vinoso che mi piace molto.

📜In sintesi📜:

Uno champagne Blanc de Noirs molto bello, come piacciono a me. Frutto molto maturo, eleganza e morbidezza. Una pura delizia.

🧆Degustato su pollame arrosto🧆.

🍷Alcuni abbinamenti enogastronomici possibili con questa annata🍷: Risotto al formaggio di capra, Verrine al salmone affumicato, Salmone affumicato, Fagiano al vino bianco, Mimolette vecchia o extravecchia,....

📌Non dimenticare, bere una botte fa risparmiare un enologo. Vai sul sito dell'azienda per vedere tutte le annate e le promozioni del momento📌.

🔞 “L'abuso di alcol è pericoloso per la salute, consumare con moderazione”🔞 La maggior parte dei vini sono stati assaggiati e sputati. Degustazione non retribuita.

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🇮🇹🗣️Descrizione del dominio 🗣️🇮🇹

Maison DEVAUX è al centro di una saga familiare iniziata con i fratelli Jules e Auguste Devaux poco prima della metà del XIX secolo.

La Casa è stata quindi fondata e guidata successivamente da tre donne di energia e talento.

La prima, Madame Claude-Josephte Devaux, (nata Ducray), rimasta vedova a 39 anni, fondò la casa Vve A. Devaux a Épernay nel 1846, che gestisce con il figlio François-Auguste.

Sposò Augusta-Maria Herbin che divenne la seconda vedova di Devaux alla morte del marito nel 1879. Personaggio della Champagne, gestì l'attività fino al 1895.

Il marchio ha avuto rapidamente successo. È parte integrante della reputazione mondiale dei vini dello Champagne.

Alla fine del XIX secolo, DEVAUX esportava il 75% della sua produzione.

Fu nel 1907, alla morte di Charles-Auguste Devaux, che sua moglie Marguerite Marie-Louise, nata Hussenot, assunse le redini dell'azienda all'età di 31 anni e le mantenne fino alla sua morte nel 1951.

Poi subentrano i suoi due figli.

UNA PASSIONE CONDIVISA

Champagne DEVAUX è ora combinato al plurale. In effetti, questa avventura familiare è stata trasmessa direttamente più di 30 anni fa - con una visione a lungo termine - alle famiglie di viticoltori.

Si sono riuniti in un progetto a misura d'uomo sul modello della cooperazione associata a una forte domanda di qualità.

Allora ultimo del nome e senza eredi, Jean-Pol Auguste Devaux affida nel 1987 al gruppo vinicolo Union Auboise, i destini di questo marchio dal passato prestigioso e dal futuro promettente.

Durante tutto l'anno, i soci cooperatori di Champagne DEVAUX guidano amorevolmente le viti a consegnare i loro frutti migliori. Dispiegano i loro sforzi e il loro know-how per elevare le uve al livello di eccellenza richiesto dal gusto e dal carattere di un Grand Champagne.

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wholesalemagnesiumoxide · 11 months

Text

triple helix pitching forward | chapter four: entanglement depth

word count: 5.3k

content warnings: violence, sexual allusion, psychological distress

The sun has crept far enough down the horizon that it no longer provides any light. Seen through the window, Elysium-4 is shrouded in near total darkness, lit only by the last embers of the sunset, the dim bulbs of its rocky moons, and the pinpoint lights of the stars.

The uniformity of the view makes it the perfect backdrop for Selene's work. Sitting in the living room for a change of pace, she's reading through laboratory correspondence. Augments project text onto her retina. Piecemeal decryption has its advantages, but the major downside is that the information is disgorged at random. Even if you know what you're looking for, you need luck on your side to find anything quickly.

When it comes up in her search, she almost doesn't recognize what she's found. She pages past it, skims a few more messages, then has to go back once the significance has worked its way through her mind. Its formal title and stilted scientific language don't fully disguise Minerva Verrine's initial report of THRONE's discovery. Included are the coordinates and an orbital photograph of the entrance to the cave THRONE was found in.

"That's not too far from us, is it?" Selene asks.

"It is an hour's flight away," Brutus says into her ear.

"What?" Asphodel looks up from her tablet. "Oh, you're talking to him, aren't you." Brow furrowed, she goes back to her reading --- writing unanswered letters can only occupy so much time. Selene's apologetic look goes unnoticed.

"Let's head over," she says, voice lowered.

"Do you expect THRONE will be there?" Brutus asks as the ship begins its subtle acceleration.

"It could be." She stands and stretches, making a mental note to do more flexibility exercises --- she aches from sitting. "If we're lucky."

"If it is, are you confident you will be able to eliminate it?" The question is pointed in a direction she can't quite determine.

"Nothing's managed to kill me yet, right?" She half-smiles. He doesn't respond. The dull pressure of his cameras on her is unyielding. Her awareness of his gaze -- so frequently a comforting background hum -- settles over her like snow.

"...I don't have to go if you don't want me to."

"It is one of our best leads as to THRONE's location, assuming it has not found another home."

"If it hasn't found another home..." She trails off, tapping her foot, looking at Asphodel. "Your hair's all tangled."

"What?" Asphodel looks up again. Selene can barely make out the cover of some mass-market romance novel on her tablet, the sort of committee-written commodity that served as the hardtack of her mental diet when she was younger and lonelier. "It's fine. See?" Asphodel attempts to run her fingers through her hair and winces when they get stuck.

"Hang on, I'll go get the hairbrush."

"You don't have to--"

It's not long before she's holding the hairbrush out to Asphodel, who tentatively accepts it. She spends a moment picking hairs out from between the bristles, letting them fall to the floor to get lost in the carpet's fibers, before she starts brushing her own hair. 'Tangled' had been generous; Asphodel meets harsh resistance. She threads her fingers into a particularly stubborn knot, attempting to tease it apart, before giving up and applying brute force. Hair rips, and Selene reaches out briefly as if to take the brush from her. Their eyes meet. Selene's hand retracts, and she tries to disguise the gesture as idle tapping. Asphodel doesn't acknowledge it.

"Thanks," she says when her hair's been tamed, avoiding Selene's gaze. The brush goes back in its drawer with auburn hairs contrasting Selene's sable.

The view from the window barely changes even as the ship moves; Selene's almost startled when a blue light appears over the horizon, dimly illuminating the rim of a crater a few kilometers away from the cavern entrance. Whatever subterranean reaction sustains the blue flame has yet to exhaust itself.

"What do you think happened here?" Selene asks.

"Meteor impact, maybe?" Asphodel says. She stands up, cups her hands and presses her face against the window to block out the glare of the interior lights.

"You did not see it when you flew in?" Brutus asks.

She pauses a moment. "No, I didn't. Minerva didn't mention it, either."

"Must've been recent, then." Selene tries to reconstruct his line of attack here. This is their first time seeing the crater, too. It's not inherently suspicious to be unaware of a particular location on some random planet. She knows he knows this -- no, more accurately, she knows he knows she wouldn't consider it persuasive evidence. So then...

Her train of thought is interrupted by him speaking into her ear. "We are ten minutes away from the cave."

Her armor slips on over her clothes like a holster fits a gun. She tests the flashlight on her helmet; it flickers a moment, blinking away sleep, before brightening. She turns it back off, satisfied. She holds out her hand for Legion before remembering it's still at the Biological Research Bureau facility. The final piece of her ensemble is a length of self-drilling cable she wears like a bandolier.

As the ship descends, Asphodel asks, "So where are you going, exactly?"

"The cave THRONE was found in," Selene says. "It might've gone back there."

"So you're following it home to kill it."

The blunt language is like a strike to the skull. "That's what you do when an animal kills people." When it eats people. "Isn't it?"

Asphodel's face twists. Selene can't decode her expression -- disgust or sadness, perhaps. It's a few moments before Asphodel responds, "Minerva wouldn't like it."

"Would you?" Selene doesn't ask if she's still alive to approve or disapprove.

"My opinion doesn't matter here. It's your job, not mine." She returns to her reading, eyes narrowed.

Selene steps through the airlock. The interstitial room is redundant in a breathable atmosphere. A pressure suit hangs from a hook, and she briefly shudders as she thinks about having to use it. A ladder descends just far enough for her to safely drop the rest of the way to the ground. The impact forces a cloud of spores out of subterranean fungal meshes. The air reeks of mildew.

In the absence of leaf litter or grass, the dirt is covered in sun-starved fungal whelps, braided mycelial patches, and slow-roving slime molds. Everything is damp, glistening in the beam of her flashlight. She looks up at the ship, then glances around. Orienting herself against the setting sun, she starts walking. Each step turns up more wheezing exhalations of spores. The canopy overhead starts to thin out as she comes up to the hungry mouth of the cave. Dull, sunset red on her right and unearthly blue to her left, she steps into the darkness.

Entering the cave is like wading into a lake; Elysium-4 rotates so slowly that air circulation is virtually non-existent. Cold, stagnant air meets her. The temperature doesn't bother her the way it would have in her youth. She's sure she's long since burned out the synapses governing goosebumps, shivering, chattering teeth, the way one can go blind from staring at the sun, but her chest still constricts as cold air fills her lungs. It's not the physical discomfort of childhood winters spent breathing recycled air at needling temperatures; breathing should be easy at temperatures far colder than this. Why, then, is this so difficult? Why--

"Breathe, Selene." Brutus's voice is like solid ground.

She breathes out, then in.

"Your oxygen levels are fine," he says. A hint of kind concern has crept into his voice, and she's momentarily embarrassed he thinks she needs it. She's even more embarrassed that he's right. "I will be monitoring them as you descend. If you even begin to approach suffocation, I will warn you."

His reassurance throws her emotions into sharp relief. So that's what this is. Childhood fears of asphyxiation digested and regurgitated. She's a professional. She should be better than this.

"Thanks, Brutus."

Steps almost mechanical, she begins her descent.

The cave walls gleam as though wet. Soil has slid down the throat of the cave, bereft of mycelial networks to hold it in place. It's like going from the lobby to an uncarpeted service corridor. She has to stoop to avoid hitting her head.

"We haven't gone this deep into the wilderness in a while," she whispers, voice conversational. "When was the last time? Two years ago?"

"You recovered the body of that missing executive from a forest nine months ago."

She frowns. "It was a park. That doesn't count."

"I believe it qualifies. If it were merely a park, the wildlife would have been much less of an issue."

The bite on her leg still itches occasionally. "Arcology parks are all like that."

The cavern grows livelier each meter she descends. Carapaces glint on the cave walls as insects feed on what Selene assumes is some form of bacterial deposit. Flies joined at the hip, fused together in all-consuming procreation, flit insensate through the beam of her lamp.

It's inaccurate to say Brutus exists anywhere, except perhaps the motherboard wired into the Slumbering Fury. He is intangible, he is omnipresent, he is data; his hands reach across networks, unbound by any physical concerns. Still, Selene imagines him existing inside her, circuits enmeshed with her veins. It's preferable to imagine that, when the alternative is her body as extended peripheral to him, an array of network endpoints he can run his hands over, paging through her like a book. The thought has its appeal -- she remembers the gentle hypoxia of his hand on her throat and sighs -- but most of the time it merely unsettles her.

A centipede about the size of her finger is crawling across the rock, eating lichen off the cave walls. It's ghostly, translucent in the light. It doesn't respond to the sound of Selene drawing close, kneeling down, preoccupied with its meal.

"Surprisingly fearless."

"Perhaps it is toxic, and everything has evolved to instinctively avoid eating it."

"Too good at defending itself to have to pay attention to anything?"

"It is a likely explanation. Complex sense organs are quite the investment. Once they become vestigial, I do not doubt evolution would do away with them quickly."

She nods, stands, and continues down the cave, wondering if this has happened to her. Physical strength and a partner seeing through her eyes obviate the need to bother with details the way she used to. She hopes the centipede eats well.

Ice catches her light, refracts it, scatters it into a million radiant shards. Psychosomatic chills grip her. She blinks -- quartz, not ice. Quartz juts out from the walls like the quills of a porcupine turned inside out. The path is clear despite the intrusions. Ducking under a crystalline spike, she presses onward. Mineral shards, knocked loose by some past traveler, crunch underfoot.

She hasn't seen snow in ages, not since the day she became Selene Morningstar. Arcologies tend toward the temperate, occasionally the tropical. Snow is reserved for resorts for the wealthy, the rare arctic park, and frigid planets used as computational hubs; none of them are places Selene has cause to visit. Suits her just fine. After she emerged from her icy chrysalis, winter lost its appeal. She's survived hypothermia, survived weeks in a ship running cold to avoid detection, survived living with minimal life support in a ship leaching heat to the void. Enough cold for a lifetime.

Even her previous iteration hated the cold. It still surprises her that nobody chalked the murder at Cocytus up to snow madness or some similarly overblown superstition. Sometimes she comes closer to believing that's what it was than she'd like to admit. Despite the several parsecs and years between her and Cocytus, despite being alone with only her beloved co-conspirator for company, it's difficult to imagine herself as the person who pulled the trigger.

A warning tone pings in her ears. "Selene." Brutus's voice is mangled by interference. She scrambles backward instinctively.

"That is sufficient." She stops, crouched down.

"What was that?"

"The layers of rock above you are causing interference. You are almost too deep for me to be able to communicate with you."

The words trickle through her like water through sand. "Oh."

"I recommend you turn back. We can formulate another plan to find THRONE."

"No," she says reflexively. "No, I can't turn back. It could still be here."

"Are you sure it is prudent to face it alone?"

"It's the best lead we have. I'll be fine, I promise."

Brutus is silent for a moment. "I trust you. Please return safely."

"I will." She adjusts her headlamp. "Love you."

"I love you too."

She resumes her descent. Eventually she's left alone with an inkling of something growing in her, taking root in her, and the hypothermic corpse embedded in her brain stem. She breathes in, holds, breathes out. Her helmet's visor fogs up with condensation, and for a single nauseating moment, she thinks she sees spores on her breath.

The cave walls are blue-gray, shining with accumulated bacterial glaze and the water that carved this cavern. The path twists, never steep enough to trip her. The inert stone of the walls constricts under her gaze, peristaltic action forcing her down the pipe. She's still in the esophagus. She wonders what will be waiting to digest her.

She's sure she feels mycelial networks snake through her lungs. Infiltrators and advance force of the fungal infection must be coursing through her. Oxygen saturation readings blink in her peripheral vision. They seem fine. Good, even. Her canary cells have not begun hypoxic die-off; they aren't screaming distress calls into implanted nerve tissue.

Deep breaths. The air still smells like mildew. Selene isn't sure what system drives fungal air deeper into the cave. It's been more than a decade since her last physics class; more than a decade since any education focused on anything more general than specific neurotransmitters, psychological fault lines, and techniques for memory analysis.

She hears a splash and looks down to see she's stepped in a puddle. A fissure in the wall disgorges a small stream of water. She begins her calculus, weighing up how much further she'll have to go, her level of thirst, likelihood of contamination. She stoops for a moment, about to take off her helmet, before she reconsiders and stands back up.

"You'd never let me live it down if I did that," she says. Brutus doesn't hear her.

Insects flit through her lamp's beam. It's been years since she's been alone -- Brutus has been constant, her heartbeat since they met. In the frigid isolation of the laboratory dorms, he was her only company worth having, the only conversationalist that wasn't her boss.

Layers of petrified lichen hang down from the high ceiling like stalactites; she's exited a tunnel and entered some kind of natural dome. Knowledge from her past life returns to her, and for a moment she imagines utilitarian metal flooring, endless rows of computers, the incessant drone of the array of fans; the perfect environment for gestating intelligences. Brutus's upbringing, back when he was called Dominion, was atypical. So was hers, back when she was called LC.

There's a light in her periphery, the glint of a gun barrel --- no, too iridescent, it's biological, a pair of shining eyes --- her gun's out of its holster before she notices somebody's beaten her to it. The creature, pale and spindly, is slumped backward over the stump of a stalagmite. Its jaw hangs open, and yellow-green blood runs down its face. The bullet hole is professionally placed, right between the eyes. Six forelimbs splay out like the fingers of a discarded glove.

Two pieces of information jockey for her attention. The first: this creature is likely a juvenile of whatever species THRONE is. She imagines picking it up off the stony floor, standing it up; it'd be a head or so shorter than her. Nowhere near THRONE's estimated three-meter height. Second: the ejecta of the exit wound is still pooling under its head. Scavengers have yet to reincorporate it into the food chain; it has not yet rotted into undifferentiated biological slurry. This thing died recently; whoever shot it is still here. Hand on her holster, she dims her lamp and leaves the dead behind.

She supposes it's lucky she met Brutus. Lucky she killed her past self to break him out. Otherwise, she'd have had no future but academia, and her success would have remained tied to him --- Latimer -- Dr. Hallow. Inventor of flash-etching. Responsible for the suffering of untold thousands. Her first boss, and the first man she ever loved. Better for everyone that he's gone.

Asphodel is probably still reading up in the Slumbering Fury. Is she worried? She'd have no reason to be; what is Selene to her but a captor? Half-forgotten physics lectures flit through her head --- the unknown variable in superposition, the observer's action that resolves it --- and she blinks as another fused mating pair of insects flies through the beam of her light. No, not a mating pair --- a mating trio, fused in strange trefoil shape. Biology was never her strong suit, much less xenobiology. She has no idea if the three are viable. She's not optimistic.

The high roof of the cave closes in; she's in another tunnel that twists in on itself and spirals downward. Bunched inward to avoid scraping the walls, she follows the winding path. Several meters in, she realizes she can't hear her footsteps. She looks down; the cavern floor is covered in moss. It's gotten warmer and more humid without her realizing it. She imagines it as the breath of some massive beast before dismissing the idea. Heat from whatever reaction sustains the blue flame high above, perhaps. She slows, draws her handgun, creeps downward --- combat in tight spaces was never her specialty; if she runs into THRONE...

They fly out of the beam almost as quickly as they flew into it. She rounds a corner, gun raised, and stops. Her arm goes slack. Rusted steel blocks her path; there's a large door built into the wall of the tunnel. She blinks, briefly convinced the fungal infection is terminal, that this is some form of dying hallucination--- but no, she raises a hand to touch it. She can't feel it through the gauntlet, but it's solid. Smooth, aside from the patches of rust and the seam down the middle where it opens. There's a scratched-up card reader built into the door frame, and for a moment she wishes she had brought Legion with her before dismissing the idea. Brutus's signals can't reach down here. She's only seen it off its leash once; if she had brought it out of his range, she's not sure she'd survive long enough to get to the door.

She clenches her hand into a fist, about to knock, but pauses. Whoever -- or whatever -- is on the other side of the door, she's not sure she wants them knowing about her. They could be a threat. She turns around, begins her re-ascent, unknowns diffusing across her mind. Potential views through the doorway fill her mind, each hazier than the last. A warehouse for storing unknown commodities. Another laboratory filled with yet more dead scientists. A barracks of soldiers for some unknown war. Each image flickers and fades when confronted with the ultimate question: why build that here?

She contemplates steel and how long it takes to rust. Even accounting for the ravages of humidity, that door's been around for decades, maybe longer than she's been alive. It could be abandoned --- but no, it couldn't be. Once again she comes to the corpse oozing pus-yellow brain matter. It's trivial for her to reconstruct the bullet's path, the way it must have toppled backward when shot. Whoever pulled the trigger was going further into the cave, not exiting it. They killed a creature in their way and continued through the door, she's grimly certain. The body's dead eyes stare upward, and she can't bear to meet their gaze as she walks past.

She's jolted out of her thoughts by a splash -- the water again. She watches the harsh glare of her lamp refract through it, play off its surface. She swallows. Her mouth is dry. She kneels, takes off her helmet, and drinks deep. It's bitter and earthy, chitin and petrichor. The mildew aftertaste lingers, and she stands, thirst slaked, fungal invaders in her bloodstream receiving reinforcements.

The fungal threat seethes within her, livid like an open wound, raw like reminders of every misstep she's ever made. Her involvement with Hallow, despite his crimes, the etching interfaces she wired into his AI progeny, her hand in constructing the perfect tactician... all the way back to her original sin, her rejection of the doctrines she was incubated in since birth. It all connects, traced backward by a long strand from the present moment. The lunar priesthood had sentenced LC Michaels to ritual airlock asphyxiation for some long-forgotten youthful crime, a baptismal trial he would not have survived; now, in the dark, she almost wonders if it would be better for everyone if his mother hadn't smuggled him out, if he hadn't survived long enough to become her.

"--ene? Can you hear me, Selene? Can you hear me, Selene?" Brutus's voice cuts in, repeating the same message.

"Anti-fungals." She says it louder than intended. A couple insects skitter away, startled.

"Pardon?"

"Hi." She swallows. "I love you. I'm sorry." Back to whispering. "Can you start the medisynth on some antifungals?"

"Has something happened?" There's a concerned edge to his voice. It rankles her, him putting in the effort to sound concerned.

"I think something here's infected me. I can feel it." Growing in her lungs, insinuating itself into her bloodstream, mycorrhizae tangling with circuitry---

"Your vitals are fine," he says, voice modulated in a gesture toward being comforting that Selene can only read as pitying. A moments silence, then "I cannot detect any anomalous bodies in your bloodstream. I do not believe anything here would be capable of infecting you."

"Please," she says, scared child tone to her voice. "Please, I---"

"I have already started the medisynth." Of course he has. "It should be finished by the time you return."

Of course he took her seriously. "Thank you."

"It is no trouble at all." His presence is steadying. "Please return soon."

"I'm trying my best to."

It's not long before she's pulling herself up the ladder three rungs at a time. She stumbles going through the airlock, catches herself on the wall with one hand, starts unclasping her armor with the other. Both halves of her breastplate hanging off her loosely, self-drilling cable dangling like a discarded sash, she kneels next to the medical arm. Brutus kneels beside her, the fabric of his dress bunched up --- even now, she's dimly aware of how difficult that is to simulate --- intangible hand rubbing circles on her back. Eyes closed, breathing deep, she steadies herself. She is calm enough to avoid panicking as he remotely stills her muscles, moves the arm into place, and injects broad spectrum anti-fungals into her neck.

There's a rush of chemical heat, almost a burning. The fluid --- viscous and, in Selene's mind, a livid red --- goes in slowly. The pain recedes, replaced with numbness and the awareness of his hands pinching nerve endings shut.

A trickle of blood leaks out of her neck, pooling at her collarbone. She stands, legs trembling in her greaves. "How long before it kicks in?"

"Any fungus in your system should be eradicated within five minutes."

Sitting against the wall, unbuckling and sliding off her remaining armor, Selene stares at the clock. Her hands work automatically as the seconds tick down. Plated steel formed to the shape of her body sits in a neat pile, and the five minutes expire. She breathes in. Even unconstricted by armor, the feeling hasn't passed; something is growing in her lungs, is taking root in her.

"You sure it should work?"

"I have absolute certainty."

Unknown afflictions sit in another superposition. Augmentation rejection syndrome, perhaps, or some allergy. The consequences of a lax exercise regimen, or breathing recycled air, or a life of---

There's footsteps on the carpet. Selene turns her head, blinking as she gets to her feet.

Asphodel's staring at her neck. "What happened?" Her eyes trace the flow of the blood from the injection site to where it stains her collar. A glance back up at her face. "Did you get hurt?"

Selene looks away, waves off the concern. "No, no, I'm fine. See?" She wipes the blood away; it isn't replaced. "I'm not bleeding anymore."

"Good, good." She's not making eye contact --- she seems preoccupied.

Selene has begun to ask if she's okay when she closes the distance.

"What are--?" Combat scenarios and escape routes snake their way through her mind, plans for move and countermove, the future unknown until observed---

Asphodel gets up on the tips of her toes.

"I missed you."

The wave function collapses. Asphodel runs her hands up and down Selene's back. The kiss doesn't last long. She blinks as it ends.

"Why--?"

"I just said. I missed you," she says. "Your mouth is cold."

She turns to leave. Selene reaches out a hand, retracts it. The door to the guest room closes with a soft hiss. The moment lingers like the taste. Earthy. Strangely bitter. She wipes her lip with her thumb absentmindedly. The anti-fungals are finally working.

"Interesting," Brutus says behind her.

"Is it?" She turns to look at him. "Are you jealous?"

"I would prefer if you were not smiling while asking that question."

"Am I?" She is; she blanks her face appropriately. "I'm sorry."

"I appreciate the apology," he says, hands clasped behind his back, head at a feline tilt, "and no, I am not."

Later, sitting at her desk, she asks, "What was so interesting?" Polygonal maps of the cavern, sketched out over an hour's worth of arcane key commands, extend across her screen.

He ignores the question. "There was a door at the back of the cave?"

"Oh," she says, zooming in on it. "I forgot to mention it. I was..." The tightness in her chest returns for a moment. "...distracted." The taste still lingers. "No text or symbols on it. Rusted steel, but sturdy. Couldn't get it open."

"Do you believe it is related to the facility we have been investigating?"

"The facility was only built a couple months ago, right? The door looked too old to have been built then."

Brutus is silent, projected eyes unblinking. Then, "That facility is the first known construction on this planet."

"It's tricky, right?" Selene sighs, leaning back in her chair. "I can't figure it out. The tangle leads nowhere." No, that's not quite correct -- it leads somewhere just out of her grasp. There are fuzzy outlines in her periphery, but the full shape eludes her.

"Strictly speaking, we do not need to know the purpose of the door," he says. "It would be satisfying to know, but we were not sent here to answer every question about this planet."

"Mm." She closes her eyes. "Maybe it'd get us closer to finding THRONE if we knew, though."

"You did not find it in the cave, correct?"

"No, it wasn't there. Found a dead juvenile of its species, but no sign of THRONE itself."

"It was dead?"

"Yeah, it was shot." Repeating that fact reminds her just how much she doesn't know. She feels very small. "Probably by whoever's behind that door."

Again he's silent for a moment. "Are you certain that is what happened?"

She opens one eye, looks at his impassive projection. "I know what a bullet to the brain looks like, Brutus."

"My apologies for doubting you." Sincerity creeps into his voice. "I do not intend to insult your intelligence."

"It's fine." She idly pans over the map. The facts rot away into undifferentiated mush in her mind. She sighs and powers off her terminal. "Are you sure you aren't jealous?"

"I have encouraged you to explore outside companionship several times, Selene. I can recite the conversations we had, if you require proof." The level monotone has returned. "It is simply concerning to see you so infatuated over a kiss from our prime and only suspect."

She stares at him. "I am not infatuated with her."

"I have lived with you for a decade, and your body language is unsubtle. You do not have to lie for my sake."

"I'm not lying." The words come automatically, and she pauses after saying it, unsure if it's true. Results: inconclusive. "I wouldn't lie to you."

Brutus is silent. She's not the only one who's transparent --- she can tell when he's weighing his options. Then, "If you had to make a bet for your life, would you bet that THRONE is or is not Asphodel Verrine?"

"What?"

His voice is firmer as he repeats. "If you had to make a bet for your life, would you bet that THRONE is or is not Asphodel Verrine?" She opens her mouth to protest, but he preempts her. "Please. I would appreciate an answer."

Breathe in, breathe out. "I'd bet on it being her."

"You do not sound certain."

"I'm not going to kill her on circumstantial evidence," she says, getting to her feet. "And I'm not convinced I want THRONE dead, either."

"Why? Selene, it is responsible for the deaths of at least five people, possibly six. What is the root of this hesitation?"

"You saw that cage. You saw that enclosure. I think of it in there, and..."

If he recognizes how that sentence ends, he doesn't show it. "I see."

Selene leans against the wall, arms crossed. "So maybe they had it coming."

"Selene," he says, voice lowered, tone filled with artificial matrix-product kindness. "I believe your sympathy is letting THRONE take advantage of you. What other reason would Asphodel have to kiss you, given that you are essentially her captor?"

She doesn't respond; she stares at the hologram in silence.

"Did you believe that kiss was genuine? It was transparent manipulation, an attempt to either convince you it is human or earn a stay of execution. Either way, it was an attempt to break free to somewhere it could wreak further havoc."

"Of course you'd say that." The words are out before she can think about it; once she realizes what she's said, she blanches as much as her cyanotic skin can. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean by that?" he asks, head tilted, eyes alight, voice pointedly monotone.

She can't answer; the words would come out covered in ice, the crystals would lacerate her throat, she'd drown in her own blood. "I'm sorry."

"I am not an unfeeling automaton, Selene. You know this, or have professed to have known it. You have a symbol on that knowledge on your finger."

She rubs the scar coiled around her left ring finger with her thumb. "That wasn't..." She closes her eyes. Misgivings on the nature of inorganic emotion could maybe be forgiven. To admit to her true meaning --- of course you'd say that, you're military hardware --- would be something else entirely. "I'm sorry," she says, weakly.

His avatar stands, motionless. "You should sleep," he says, and the softness in his tone gives her the creeping awareness that he figured it out, can see right through her. "You have had a difficult day."

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I should."

A few minutes later, when the lights are off and she's lying in bed, she says, "I'm sorry."

"I appreciate the apology." She can't tell if he's forgiven her. "We can discuss THRONE and our mission tomorrow. I have ideas I would like to suggest. For now, you need sleep more than anything."

She doesn't sleep well that night.

#triple helix pitching forward

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kauibunga · 11 months

Text

5/17

1:15 (late)

hi guys today was a struggle to get through. i was in the study for like 12 hours and most of it was w kayla and then yas and gabi came but it was so hard to stay focused. if kayla wasn’t there to tell me to do my work everytime i was on tiktok too long i think i would’ve been on tiktok forever. i woke up really early today at 7:45 and i slept at 1:30 ish last night so the amount of sleep wasn’t too bad. i had another volunteer event but this time i was helping high schoolers and my students mic wasn’t working so it was hard to work w him. i ate a lot today oh nooo i had a breakfast bagel from the study and the bbq chips side that comes w it and apple juice then i had a coffee and a chocolate verrine after but i didn’t rlly like the verrine if that’s how you even spell it. at around 11:30 i met my friends at rieber and we had a fun time studying and talking yay. as for my awesome jps emmar got a mad allergic reaction to kitties she visited and jakep just did a lot of thinking ab life tdy. i think cumulatively our days were saurrrr meh! we’re so jp moment rn they are so silly. goodnight everyone goodluck on the midterm tmr!!!

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incorrect-heartbeat-quotes · 4 years

Conversation

Responses to "I want a baby"

Yorshk: Like, for lunch?

Skip: Oh my Han. Steal one.

Long: I promise once we've finished our duties, I'll give you a baby. I will give you as many babies as you want. I can't wait to make lots of eggs with you. I can't imagine the amount of pure happiness that will overwhelm me. You're the Yin Mog of my dreams and you're going to be the best mother to our children. I love you, Han.

Patch: We're lesbians.

Chip: I guess you want a Ferrari too. Can't nobody afford one of those.

Jazz: Yes ma'am...

Eve: I'm baby.

Luca: Yikes.

Peppy Jack: I'll kill you.

#yorshk voso #Long Verrine #chip morax #luca stolas #eve staccato #Peppy Jack #Jazz Balaam #skip carabia #Patch Godunov #source: internet #incorrect quotes #incorrect heartbeat quotes

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frosted-confusion · 4 years

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what are the different sexualities of your trolls? are they all wide ranged or do you like sticking more to one type of another?

So let me get started with I myself am a demisexual who is still learning a lot about the community and doesnt really get much of the behavior of humanity really but i do asign sexualities to my characters and from here will be the list! Servas is heterosexual but would be open to exploration as he grew up away from society Vellum is kind of hard to pin down but i feel he’s mostly Demisexual but he could lean more towards asexual Alador is Bisexual and doesnt really have a preference Verrin is a lesbian who is a total mess but would love to actually spend time with her partner Vimora is Asexual but not aromantic as he likes the concept of taking a partner on dates. That’s it so far!

#Thank you for the ask!#sorry about the wait i took a long nap #about vellum #about servas #about alador #about verrin #about vimora #Anonymous

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grey-eyed-menace · 3 years

Text

It smells like cigarettes and alcohol.

Nathaniel's expression is distinctly pinched in distaste at the smell, and Asher is vaguely reminded of all the times they've had to deal with Lord Verrine in the last few weeks, the expression not unlike what he showed during the times they had to deal with his Lord Father.

It probably doesn't help that this is a brothel, small and unassuming, a bar as a front, the girls descreet, she and Nathaniel look incredibly out of place amongst the patrons at this time of day, as few as there are.

The pale, impossibly frail, young woman and the disgusted redhead, wonderful work they were doing.

#creative writing #writing #my writing #oc's and shit #excerpt from a story i'll never finish #so many ideas #so little time #and so much anxiety... can't forget the anxiety...#but here have this #Asher Hassenfeld #Nathaniel Verrine #shady friends doing shady things #in the original 'story' in universe Nathaniel and Asher are meant to be enemies in a sense #as in Asher's original incarnation 'Lucina' showed him kindness as a small child and never interacted with him again when he latched onto i #and Lucina promised to always be on his side despite not really meaning it and you know... being like ten #and he became OBSESSED #here Asher has been a presence for as long as he can remember and is far more willing to knock him on his ass #there's still shades of what he could have been present in the larger story but over all he's pretty chill #and obviously worried about up his childhood friend being dumped headfirst into court drama #Asher's also really fucking small a nineteen year old #like... knives yeah she can do that... swords?#she can barely lift it #she's a court lady #not a knight #it's made known in spades

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arikos-of-caelid · 2 years

Text

Drabble: Final Preparations

It was indeed a near-flawless persona. Verrin the Perfumer. So long as he didn't do anything stupid.

He went over the cover story again. An apprentice returned from an expedition gone wrong in the Caelid Wilds (where he'd gotten ahold of the poor dead one's attire), now returned to do some research. Arikos already knew how to make the Uplifting and Spark Aromatics so common to the Capital's perfumers in the Shattering. Those were displayed in the bottles more easily seen and accessible on the kit.

And of course, some spare ingredients to replace used bottles if need be.

There were also a set of more obscured aromatic vessels; contents definitely not of standard make but (along with some concealed knives) were for the purpose of self defense, escape, and fault mitigation. Obscuring smoke. Stunning and sleep inducing poison. Intoxicants, to mess with memory. He likely wouldn't need any of it, but this was not the first time an infiltration mission of his had failed in this city. No chances would be taken.

In and out, two weeks at the most generous estimate. Get a lead, report back to Godwyn through the Deathroot network, and then get myself somewhere I'm NOT technically a wanted man.

And then, something occurred to him just before he changed into his new guise. A fact he'd learned tangentially through the Prince of Death that he knew someone else would be interested in, that he felt compelled in his heart of hearts to pass on.

And so, shortly before Arikos left his 'normal' self aside for the time being, he penned a note and sent it by carrier pigeon. Sadly, the newfound luxury of Deathroot communication was not something that applied to most others he knew.

***

Vae,

Update from my last letter: You didn't learn this from me, but a certain someone we've discussed is currently in the Capital. If you're ready, I hope you can find some peace.

Love,

Ari

(P.S. I'm aware this note smells good; that is intentional. Feel free to eat it once you're done reading it.)

***

And with the bird flying off, he was now clear. Retiring to a secluded space, and donning the almost completely concealing disease-protective robes, thoroughly scrubbed and even scorched of traces of the Rot. And, the first test of the guise proved solid; no suspicion as he passed through the Capital's main gates, and started onto the central avenue.

First destination: The Grand Library.

#[Perfumer's Notes]#[Mun's Writing]#verse: first death cuts deepest #Awww yeah its all coming together #this is probably the first of many #stay tuned #:) :) :)

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criticalcoruscant · 3 years

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My favorite off-the-wall cr headcanons that kinda make sense if you've got enough time and string in no particular order:

1. Fjord is a orphan of the Chroma Conclave attacks dropped off in Port Damalli because the orphanages were all destroyed in the initial attacks

2. Caleb is consecuted in some way or another

3. Sabian is also a warlock of Ukatoah -and that's why the ship was blown up. Revenge against Vandren

4. Something happened in the shipwreck of the Tide's Breath that broke whatever protection Vandren had that allowed him to sail freely and now he's stuck somewhere unable to safely cross the ocean

4. Yussa is secretly a dragon and also secretly kinda in love with Marion from a far

5. Fjord is an artist with some yarn and a hook or needles. He spins wool with the dnd equivalent of a drop spindle on long journeys to keep his hands busy and earn a little extra coin

6. Beau is classically trained in some instrument. Piano or cello are my top picks. She stuck with it growing up because practicing loudly meant the squawking would travel into her father's office. She is waiting to reveal this information to yasha so they can jam together sometime

7. Veth is actually *very* good at growing plants. Shed never imagined ever having to purchase vegetables or herbs until she met Yeza. When he became a permanent part of her life, it cut down on costs for certain ingredients and he was just in awe of her ability to coax even the most pathetic plant back to life

8. Caleb is covered in freckles or sunburnt most days. The constant healing from battle keeps it from becoming dangerous but his fair skin doesn't agree with the outside portion of adventuring life.

9. Yasha sings a heartbreakingly beautiful lullaby in celestial that always put the tribe's babies right to sleep

10. When cad was a baby, his instinctual response to getting spooked was to turn invisible. This caused problems

11. Molly and jester had a very tactile relationship. They were always in each other's orbit and touching in some way- holding hands, fiddling with hair, tails pretzeled up, pinkie fingers linked, head on shoulder. She hasn't had the same level of touch since he's been gone.

12. When verrin and essek were little, they used to boast about who their previous lives might have been and wish for anamesis to begin to see who was more important. When it never came for either of them, they never spoken of it again

#critical role #critical role headcanons

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larsisfrommars · 3 years

Text

Campaign Wrap Up: Live Reaction

Last M9 Animated Intro! Did they add some instruments?? Feels thicker and more intense! Went by so fast!! 😭

No Brian??? WEIRD! Taliesin! Tell us about your forbidden Molly knowledge! Waaaaaait a minute! Fuck off! Of course he didn’t know anything! I think I was right about the hard reset every resurrection thing! Oooo cool Lucien lore!

Uhhhhhh! What the FUCK is a Hollow One??? Imma have to look that up! OH SHIT FJORD! “Fjord runs an orphanage after retiring from piracy” headcanon basically confirmed?! He’s gonna go back and clean up his old orphanage’s crime syndicate bullshit!?! I cannot express how much I fucking LOVE that!!!! 😍

Claudia was a DROW?! The skeleton was the previous owner?! Holy shit!! Yasha’s down time honestly doesn’t surprise me all that much. I don’t know where people got the whole “the gentleman deals in slaves” because I don’t think that ever got confirmed (though I’m not sure it got denied either) and the Iron Sheperds were (indirectly) enemy of his? I mean he may be a shady dude but I don’t think he was ever a slave trader at least?!?!

The Bren fiasco! Thoreau too?! That’s nutty lmao. Yes omg Gustav! Ohhhhh it was a deal with the devil Gustav was a fucked up person after all! Feed me Seymour! Feed me alllll night long! Wow. GASP KHARY IS HERE ASDAGDGHJKJL

Shakäste is such a cool ass name! So what I’m hearing is Shakäste essentially created himself? That’s so awesome and On Brand (tm). I kinda wish he and Yasha met considering they both seemed to follow the Storm Lord!

Awwwwwww Kiri built a music box I’m gonna cryyyyyyyyy. Oh wow?! Laura was pregnant at the very end of Vox Machina what?! Aw! Travis getting emotional about Endgame after having Ronin 🥺. Aw! Awwwww Fjord saw Cad as a father figure 💔🥰

I KNEW the circus stuff was foreshadowing!!! I knew it!! Ohhhh man, every day I am grateful Fjord didn’t release Uka’toa maaaaan. Oh neat! Plank King is a nerd lmao! Lmao all these interesting on the fly developments that feel natural and amazing and strange! I love improv!! I love it SO much!

God I love knowing how hard they detailed the campaign by heading head on into Xhorhas! GOLD! M9: “I found a boot in your yard! 😃” Essek: “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! 😨”. I love Essek and everything the Mighty Nein did to/for him. I love him!

Caleb thought Fjord was hot and was closest to him aside from Nott initially! I FUCKING KNEW IT! I FEEL SO VINDICATED! I SHIP PLATONIC WIDOFJORD SO FUCKING HARD! ALWAYS HAVE ALWAYS WILL YES! YES! Y E S!! Also lol, acknowledging everyone on the top table all being in love with Jester? And Jester having no clue at all? Yessssss!

Verrin is a Himbo CONFIRMED! This is everything I ever could’ve wanted! God I love everything that’s being said about Essek’s little brother oh my god I’m loving this we were ROBBED of meeting this babey I wuv himmmm. Ugh! Oh yayyyyy Sumalee is here, her and Nila feel like a psychic warm hug.

Ooooh! Thank god they explain Molly’s dream!! They were so ready for Traveler to be evil and then it was Arty! I LOVE that! Oh yES, Sprinkle was long game. Also I am LIVING for this Beauyasha content! So domestic and cute af!! AAAAAH BEAU AND YASHA ADOPTING FROM FJORD’S ORPHANAGE SHUT UP I AM DYING OF CUTENESS!!! AHHH!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAA- ok ok ok ok ok I’m FINE ok. Ok.

God okay, I am SO glad Fjord broke things off with Uka’toa, thank GODS thank MELORA my god. Yeahhhhh ohhhhh god, so very glad. Knowing how close Fjord came to doing something terrifying and awful, thank Melora for Caduceus ohhhhh man. Looooove Cad and looooove plant metaphor loooove Star Razor, my god.

It’s amazing how positive their influence the Mighty Nein had despite what royally messy fuck ups they all are. Love it. Everybody getting the mounts confused and descended into chaos. Didnt the moorbounders get picked off by the Roc that attacked the party? I don’t remember. Yesss give me that sweet sweet Savalierwood lore! Yes!!

So! Much! Beauyasha! CONTENT! Ah! Oooof that D&D therapy be like that sometimes! Oof shit. Yasha betrayal and Beau & Fjord’s reactions were so heartbreaking to watch! God the campaign would have been waaaaaay different if the dunamamcy time travel would’ve been involved! I’m so proud of Caleb and things going down the way they did for Nott/Veth!

God I could listen to Liam talk about Caleb alllllll day, love that! God he was sooooo cool and interesting and sad and brilliant! Love it! Ohhhhh fuck that last bit about freezing to death together in the punishment tower and how Caleb got involved with Astrid and Eadwulf. FUCK that is dark, I can hear the angsty Blumentrio fics being written as we speak!

SAVE TJ!! Ooooooh getting really real, can’t say I wouldn’t done exactly what Marisha did. Wow… woah. Woah. Yes! Take him to Rexxentrum and just don’t bring him home! Save his ass! Don’t leave him with Thoreau! YES Chris Perkins comedic relief from Spurt thank god 😂😅 oh GOD HAHA IT WAS LIKE TWO MINUTES LONG AMAZING! 🤣🤣🤣

Yesss! Please Jester be the goddess of the crabgrass! Amazing! Holy SHIT the Beau & Caleb murder plan! Yikes! So the eye stuff was about what I expected. The real question is if they did turn was would they no longer have been NPCs had they killed Lucien when they had nine eyes? Or would it have been irreversible? Wait CREE was what?! Oh. Okay she was still a Tabaxi, she became a flesh monster from somnovum radiation.

Devexian I KNEW HE WAS WARFORGED!!! GOD PLEASE SOMEONE PLEASE PLAY A WARFORGED NEXT CAMPAIGN!!! YES! YES YES YES YES YES YES YES GOD YES! 😭🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 I LOVR WARFORGED SO MUCH OH MY GOD YALL!!!

Is it weird and fucked up that the Aeor bubbles remind me of the sound dome bubbles from The Yellow Submarine movie? Nobody is gonna know what that means lol. Ooooh dynasty creation myths! Dick shiv! Dick shiv! Dick shiv!! Hoooooo what time travel terribleness!!! Oh god, I’m so glad it worked! It kinda would’ve been cool if the Cognouza made it to the prime material but I like the way things went still.

The spider was dead the WHOLE time?! 😂 gods I am so fucking glad Trent wasn’t invited to Cognouza, thank fuuuuck. Ahahahahh… oof. Ah! Good! Trent wasn’t responsible for turning the lights back on for Caleb, that makes me feel better about all that, he was basically Feebleminded right? Or at least some variation? Maaaaaan Trent was so fucked upppp.

Love the dad stuff, for real, man, one of the things in campaign 2 I loved most. Eadwulf follower of RQ confirmed!! YES! Bobanon pulling a Dread Pirate Roberts! Yayyyyy! Awww!! God, as if Vex needed even more titles! That ducktales parody Matt just did I can’t BREATHE oh wow. Cant believe it’s over… good times. One shots, love it. Gonna be great. Cant wait!

#critical role #Cr spoilers #campaign wrap up #the mighty nein #mighty nein campaign wrap up #talks machina

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anomaly00-archive · 3 years

Text

when comes the dawn ; the king's game

“The vi Aetier children entered the world as players, targets, and they will leave it as victors, survivors—

—or they will leave in ashes.”

The Origin of the King’s Game

It is unknown when these ‘games’ officially began in Aetier or were known as such. The term, ‘King’s Game’ itself was never an official term, per se, but merely a colloquial description for the power struggles between different imperial heirs for the throne.

One of the features that sets the Aetierian Empire apart from the rest of its contemporaries is that there was no set rule of succession. The founding emperor, Kaelstansa I, had first decreed that the one who should succeed him would be the most capable of his children. As the sixth child of his own family who was slated to never amount to more than a political bargaining chip, Kaelstansa understood more than any that capability was not determined by birth order but instead by skill. His decree to forgo the standard rules of male primogeniture opened up the throne for heirs of any gender and birth order, as long as they had the skills and resources to back up their claim.

While a good system in theory, it eventually became clear that the members of the dynasty became a large problem for the monarch if one or more of them decided to lay claim on the Phoenix throne. Early Aetierian history can be described by its numerous civil wars and succession crises, most notably the Aeon du Ter-Imperessirs (the Era of Four Princets) and the Decade of Blood. (Interestingly enough, a consistent factor that pulled the entire empire back together is the invasion of a third party, which lent to the belief that Aetier can only be defeated by itself).

The victor of the Decade of Blood, Empress Anastasia II instituted the Scion’s Code, stating that it is acceptable for the princet who ascends the throne to execute their siblings for the stability of the empire and the benefit of its citizens. Though the Scion’s Code did work in preventing more large scale civil wars, it had the added effect of changing the fight for the throne from one of power to a matter of survival. This idea only embedded itself further into the imperial family when the Imperial Harem began involving itself in succession politics.

‘King’s game’ as a term saw a resurgence in use during this period, referring less to civil wars between imperial heirs, but instead to the dangerous politics that played out within the harem, hidden from outside eyes. Imperial consorts were a princet’s foremost advocate for the throne, and the competitive nature of the Harem saw consorts doing anything they could to ensure their child’s survival and that of their own.

The king’s game is bloody. Ruthless. And for the majority of imperial children, it begins at birth.

The King’s Game [0 A. Dan. - 5 A. Dan]

While not the first king’s game of its kind, The King’s Game gained its infamy from being the first big civil war in Aetierian history in centuries and involved the largest execution of dynastic heirs to date.

The King’s Game began in Emperor Dantalion I’s interim year [15th Cierhal, 0 A. Dan] when he staged a coup, assassinated his father Karleon III and proclaimed himself ruler under the right of conquest. His 0 year and first year as king saw the death and execution of the majority of Dantalion’s siblings excluding the ones who married outside the empire, his blood-brother Andras, and his half-sister Astaria who escaped to the city of Konstantinye in Northern Aetier.

In Vindercrest, Dantalion worked to stabilize his hold on the southern and eastern provinces of Aetier. In Konstantinye, Astaria built her powerbase, gathering allies from all across the empire and from her husband’s, Prince Verrine’s, connections to the kingdom of Volyr.

The King’s Game lasted five and a half years with battles converging over land and the Hirithian Sea. The war reached its turning point on the 15th of Rueprae, 3rd A. Dan, with the formalized marriage of Emperor Dantalion and Titania of Taul. Titania, being the favored daughter of Eliskander-konig, offered Dantalion and his allies greater access to the the silk road than they have ever had before as well as the protection of the Iskaavar, should they ever need it. This marriage doubled the amount of resources available to Dantalion, and coupled with Titania’s feared skills and tactics on the battlefield, giving him a much needed advantage.

The war finally came to an end in the Siege of Konstantinye. A two month bombardment left the city’s walls a crumbling ruin, and the last of Astaria’s resources depleted. Strangely enough, she made no attempts of escaping to Volyr, facing Dantalion’s fury directly in the castle’s great hall. She was beheaded on the spot, her husband and close allies fleeing to Volyr or surrendering.

There are conflicting rumors as to the welfare of Astaria’s son, born on three years into the war. Dantalion has expended effort into finding out about the child’s whereabouts, but to no avail. Most believe the young prince died during the siege, though this has never been officially confirmed.

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prome-th3us · 3 years

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This week my grandmother got very sick, to the point the doctors weren't sure about her and they said that she would have died, most probably. Due to covid, I couldn't go and see her to say my last good-byes and all the things I wanted to say.

The only thing I could do was praying.

My other patron is Thanatos, so I was praying him to wait a little if it was possible.

But then I started praying to Apollo and Verrine (the demon of health) and I had this vision of a spell to give to another person some of my energy, something I never did.

Long story short, while I was talking with Hades who was telling me that it's normal to die and everything else related, I got a call from the hospital. She was basically safe, they couldn't understand how. Just 20 minutes before they were saying that she was going through her last moments.

I know this was a miracle or however you want to call it. I don't know if it was Apollo or Verrine or one of the gods I work with, I just know that I will be forever thankful to them cause I got my last chance with her.

#pagan witch

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cecevolume · 4 years

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What’s So Funny?

Prompt from @lalelilolusworld: The one in which Chloe is Queen in Hell with Lucifer as king, long, long, long after she died. And Lucifer wonders where she wandered of to only to find her in a hellloop where he and Cain pretend to be a married couple and she is just wheezing about it. Or some other kind of hellloop where she finds out a tiny thing that he has done for her while she was still alive. Something like that :)

It wasn’t altogether too strange to wake up alone in their bed. Lucifer had realized not long after she had joined him in Hell that his Queen had maintained her human curiosity, poking into all the nooks and crannies of her new world and coming back with too many questions to number.

So, for the first few hours she was gone, he went about his duties, discussing changes with Abaddon for the Void and its inhabitants, as well as garnering a deal between Verrine and Astaroth for their respective clans. There was always work to do, so he found ways to keep himself occupied while his wife was exploring.

But then Maze returned minus one Queen of Hell, insisting that she had no idea where Chloe could have wandered off to. Now, that was strange; why wouldn’t Chloe take her personal guard? Just because he maintained control didn’t mean that they were safe from rogue demons or the occasional uprising.

And her mortal soul wasn’t as invulnerable as his celestial body.

Heart in his throat, he darted out of the palace, begging the almost living creature that was Hell to guide him to her, to show him that she was safe.

Unsurprisingly, his kingdom responded, giving him a path straight through the unfathomable amount of Loops towards the Ninth Circle, the place for those who betrayed those closest to them.

He realized why she was among those doors as he remembered the name the Circle had unofficially been given by the demons: Caina.

There is no way she’s gone to his loop, he thought. Why would she want to go to the man who was willing to kill her?

Breathing deeply, he pushed through the door to Cain’s Loop, shielding his eyes against the surprising onslaught of sunlight on his face.

Before his eyes could fully adjust to the light, he heard the telltale snort of his wife laughing.

As he blinked away his surprise, his gaze unerringly found her, dressed in the light, demonic armor Maze had had crafted for her in the Pits, nearly doubled over in mirth. “Chloe?” he questioned softly, worrying that perhaps her time in Hell had finally broken her spirit as he’d feared it might at some point in their eternity.

She waved a hand absently behind her, the other going to cover her mouth. “We’re getting to the best part,” she whispered, the sound muffled until he almost couldn’t make out her words. “He’s reliving being married to you.”

This was not what he expected her to be doing with her free time. And, wait, why was Hell torturing Cain with their marriage? “I beg your pardon?” he asked, offended at the insinuation. “Why would his Loop include me? He’s the third born human in existence and lived into the 21st century! Surely the worst thing to ever happen to him wasn’t his time with me!”

Turning her laughing blue eyes towards him, she answered, “His Loop is to relive his life over and over and over; how else do you punish someone who spent ten thousand years being an asshole?” She looked back, pointing to the scene. “Every once in awhile I come in to watch when he was with the LAPD. Hindsight makes it so much funnier!”

Going to her side, he slowly placed his arm around her shoulders, taking in the scene before him.

He recognized the scene from when he’d nearly ruined their undercover marriage by walking out, though he was, of course, watching from Cain’s perspective. Instead of seeing the interaction between himself and Chloe, he watched as Cain carefully moved to the food table, shifting this and that into a more acceptable setting.

“See?” Chloe whispered, shaking against his side as she put the back of her hand to her mouth once again. “We’re getting to the part where you come back and it gets really awkward for Pierce!”

“What’s so awkward about it?” Lucifer asked, keeping an eye on the scene even as he spoke to her. “I’m about to restore our cover so that we can bring a murderer to justice; wasn’t that the job?”

“I mean, yeah, but, as usual, you took it just a step further than most.”

Suddenly, the fake-him had Cain by the face, crushing their mouths together in what he remembered to be a rather lackluster performance from the human.

Yet the response it was garnering from his wife was nothing short of amazing.

It wasn’t as though she had never lost herself in laughter before in his presence. In fact, they regularly had moments of hilarity, from their time on the mortal plane for her human life, to their eternity in Hell.

It didn’t change the fact that her laughter was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life.

Even as she snorted and chortled and held her middle like she might fall over, he watched her with an absent-minded grin on his face, brown eyes twinkling with love he never would have thought he was missing out on until he met her.

As her laughter died and she began wiping at her eyes, he cleared his throat, keeping his tone matter-of-fact. “You know, that wasn’t the worst kiss of my life,” he said, turning his head towards where pseudo-Chloe had her weapon pointed at the husband and wife team while Dan slapped cuffs on them. She gave him a look, one eyebrow raised as if to say “riiiiight”. “You forget that I was around for the beginning of your species; neither Eve nor I were particularly practiced when it came to a good game of tonsil hockey.”

Chloe began to giggle again. “First of all, ‘tonsil hockey’ wasn’t a thing ever. Second, how do you think Cain would have felt knowing you dated his mom?”

“You know, I’ve actually never thought about it,” he admitted, putting his arm back around her shoulder to steer her out of the Loop. “I suppose I could feed that information to the Duras in charge of his keeping. Just in case he starts to get feisty one day.”

As they wandered the path back through their kingdom, Chloe asked, “How do you even know it wasn’t the worst kiss? I mean, you’ve lived since the beginning of time; aren’t there a lot of experiences in that time?”

“I suppose so,” he answered honestly, looking down at her. “But it doesn’t really matter if it wasn’t the best, and that’s one I remember very clearly.”

“Oh? And what one was that?”

“The first with you.”

Corny ending, I know, but I can just see Lucifer saying it softly to Chloe with undisguised disbelief and admiration and I’ve got a lot of feels about it.

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