@theartofmadeline
occasionally subtle
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Misplaced Lens Cap
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Three Goblin Art
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titsay
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
will byers stan first human second
DEAR READER
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
JVL
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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Not today Justin
tannertan36
Janaina Medeiros
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@askthedeamonettes
➹
Elegy looked down at yer lap and blushed a deeper shade of purple.
“Ah, well- I’m the newest of my band, of course. So while the others have found their focuses, I’m still trying to come to understand mine. That said,” she smiled, still not looking up, “I am extremely proud of my poetry. The stillness of an empty room, broken only by the scratching of a pen- don’t tell my bandmates, but that is the music I love best.”
Send my Muse “Confess!!” and they will tell you a Secret!
Send me a ➹ and I‘ll share a few facts about myself as if you were a speed-dating partner
The Preservation of Life
(40k OC week prompt fill- Family)
Summery: Blue celebrates her first Purim with the crew of the Queen Esther.
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Mun: Shamelessly cross-promoting my new RP/Fic/Ask blog!
(Askthedeamonettes) Trill: "Hullo there! Care to dance?"
Jack was surprised but didn’t jump at the sudden appearance of the Daemonette, the handmaidens of Slaanesh paid him visits from time to time, a thin smile split his face as he stepped closer to the being.
“Of course, it’s been too long since last I danced.”
He bows courteously and offers a metal hand.
“Shall we?”
Trill snapped her fingers, causing a sprightly music to fill the air. With careful tendrils, she took his hand leading him into a vigorous whirl. However, though inertia trailed behind them, the breath in his lungs remained as even as if they were taking a leisurely stroll. “I'be heard you’re a weaponsmith too- I thought it would be fun to drop in for a chat!”
Jack was somewhat prepared for the strange sensation projected by Trill, he kept his footing and despite himself, kept step with her.
“Aye my lady you’ve heard correct, what can I do for the lovely Handmaiden of my Beloved Dark Prince?”
He smiles at her and leads her into a deep dip, his hand in the center of her back.
“I’m sure I can make something to your liking.”
Trill giggled. “Bold. I like it. But the reason I came isn’t to ask you for a weapon- I wanted your opinion on some new materials I found for *my* forge.”
“Ask away, what were you considering? Plasteel? Wraithbone? Necrodermis?”
With a whirl and a dip they were suddenly in the middle of a large, well-appointed workshop. The music wound down, and Trill broke away with a bow. "I think it'll be easier to explain if I show you-" she wandered over to the nearest workbench and picked up one of the raw ingots that covered it, holding it up for his examination. It was the same workmanlike grey of the walls and floor, except that it was ever-so-slightly transparent. As she held it, it began to glow from within as if warmed by the multicolored lights of some eldritch forge. "I'm thinking of calling it neveriron. It's a wonderful little thing- strong, but remarkably ductile. I'm thinking it could do wonderfull things as a way to make armored cloth. And best of all..." She pulled at it, the ingot stretching and changing. It began to take on an oily sheen as the light inside it brightened. "It responds to warp energy the way other materials respond to fire. Which is also my problem. This stuff is amazing, I can work it with my bare hands even through it's completely of the materium! But I also can't cool it down. So, I though- since you're a material being who follows our Lady, maybe you'd have some insight into how I can this to better outfit me and my band. If you agree, I'll give you the coordinates where we found it- as long as you swear to keep them out of the corpse dogs' hands, of course."
Where would your muse have the most advantagages in a fight?
I’ll start you off: Birb in the warp in an arena covered in sand.
Ice wasteland, tunnels. I swear to God Cain gets shoehorned into fucking tunnels every single novel. He is the tunnel king.
Or a flat dueling arena. No obstacles, just packed dirt.
Mosh pit
Fermata: leading her band after plenty of recon on both the terrain and the enemy and time to strategize. Trill: enclosed spaces with time to set up traps. Elegy: on her mount, with her lance, preferably on footing a normal beast can’t navigate well. Adagio: *SWINGS IN FROM A CHANDELIER*
Horrible etiquette. You always ALWAYS drop the chandelier on your enemies
Adagio: *bows* “With all due respect, oh favored of the Lady, I find that is often what lends my attacks the element of supprise. While courtesy is a fine and good thing, it must sometimes be sheathed when weapons are drawn.”
Always show class it let’s all know we are the support beings…if they fail to see that there is always need for a future corpse
Adagio: “Perhaps if I severed it before I swung in? That would serve courtesy and create a dramatic entrance!”
I was thinking come running jump on and grab swinging yourself forward with enough force to rip it out flip and bring it down on their head like a hammer.
Allow me to demonstrate, just hold my drink.
*slithers towards chandelier at full tilt*
Adagio: *does the Steven Universe star eyes expression*
(Askthedeamonettes) Trill: "Hullo there! Care to dance?"
Jack was surprised but didn’t jump at the sudden appearance of the Daemonette, the handmaidens of Slaanesh paid him visits from time to time, a thin smile split his face as he stepped closer to the being.
“Of course, it’s been too long since last I danced.”
He bows courteously and offers a metal hand.
“Shall we?”
Trill snapped her fingers, causing a sprightly music to fill the air. With careful tendrils, she took his hand leading him into a vigorous whirl. However, though inertia trailed behind them, the breath in his lungs remained as even as if they were taking a leisurely stroll. “I'be heard you’re a weaponsmith too- I thought it would be fun to drop in for a chat!”
Jack was somewhat prepared for the strange sensation projected by Trill, he kept his footing and despite himself, kept step with her.
“Aye my lady you’ve heard correct, what can I do for the lovely Handmaiden of my Beloved Dark Prince?”
He smiles at her and leads her into a deep dip, his hand in the center of her back.
“I’m sure I can make something to your liking.”
Trill giggled. "Bold. I like it. But the reason I came isn't to ask you for a weapon- I wanted your opinion on some new materials I found for *my* forge."
(Askthedeamonettes) Trill: "Hullo there! Care to dance?"
Jack was surprised but didn’t jump at the sudden appearance of the Daemonette, the handmaidens of Slaanesh paid him visits from time to time, a thin smile split his face as he stepped closer to the being.
“Of course, it’s been too long since last I danced.”
He bows courteously and offers a metal hand.
“Shall we?”
Trill snapped her fingers, causing a sprightly music to fill the air. With careful tendrils, she took his hand leading him into a vigorous whirl. However, though inertia trailed behind them, the breath in his lungs remained as even as if they were taking a leisurely stroll. “I'be heard you’re a weaponsmith too- I thought it would be fun to drop in for a chat!”
Jack was somewhat prepared for the strange sensation projected by Trill, he kept his footing and despite himself, kept step with her.
“Aye my lady you’ve heard correct, what can I do for the lovely Handmaiden of my Beloved Dark Prince?”
He smiles at her and leads her into a deep dip, his hand in the center of her back.
“I’m sure I can make something to your liking.”
Trill giggled. "Bold. I like it. But the reason I came isn't to ask you for a weapon- I wanted your opinion on some new materials I found for *my* forge."
Where would your muse have the most advantagages in a fight?
I’ll start you off: Birb in the warp in an arena covered in sand.
Ice wasteland, tunnels. I swear to God Cain gets shoehorned into fucking tunnels every single novel. He is the tunnel king.
Or a flat dueling arena. No obstacles, just packed dirt.
Mosh pit
Fermata: leading her band after plenty of recon on both the terrain and the enemy and time to strategize. Trill: enclosed spaces with time to set up traps. Elegy: on her mount, with her lance, preferably on footing a normal beast can’t navigate well. Adagio: *SWINGS IN FROM A CHANDELIER*
Horrible etiquette. You always ALWAYS drop the chandelier on your enemies
Adagio: *bows* “With all due respect, oh favored of the Lady, I find that is often what lends my attacks the element of supprise. While courtesy is a fine and good thing, it must sometimes be sheathed when weapons are drawn.”
Always show class it let’s all know we are the support beings…if they fail to see that there is always need for a future corpse
Adagio: "Perhaps if I severed it before I swung in? That would serve courtesy and create a dramatic entrance!"
Heretic
askthedeamonettes
“Yes, yes. I don’t like that idea either. So, the plan-” Trill drew still more tools from her belt and set to work on the lock. “As I’m sure you know, I could fly you through space without the need for a voidsuite. Unfortunately, they’ve jumped pretty far into Imperial space. You wouldn’t suffocate, but you’d still be dead of hunger and thirst before we got to the nearest safe planet. Lucky for you, one of my band mates agreed to pilot a small voidprobe to a point closer to here. I can fly us there, so we only need to get off awful ship unnoticed. For that, I can forge a glamour- make myself seem a guard and you a less obvious prisoner. The corpse dogs won’t know the diffrence, as long as we don’t do or say anything to give ourselves away. Got it?”
It was reassuring, to hear her own concerns addressed immediately. Scum could do a great many things, even slow her vitals to near nothingness, but she needed to eat and drink eventually. “Yes, I should be able to sustain myself long enough, and I can keep my dogmas to myself for a time.” She smiled, her humor tired as she.
Her eyebrows knotted as questions danced on the tip of her tongue. Once the lock was free they would need to move and speaking would be limited. Then, the void would eliminate such chance to speak. It may have been wiser to not ask at all. Perhaps the answer would only serve as a distraction.
Impatience and the ache won out, in the end.
Her voice cracked as she asked again, quieter and hesitant. “Is he well? Is Saqqara safe?”
Trill made a little humming noise. "Well, I suppose that depends on your definition of safe! The false god's followers can't get him, if that's what you mean." She gave a small grunt as one of her tools rattles slightly in the lock. "But the gods haven't sent him on an easy path. He's in Bile's court, now. I think they have plans for him there, but as yet I don’t know what."
(Askthedeamonettes) Trill: "Hullo there! Care to dance?"
Jack was surprised but didn’t jump at the sudden appearance of the Daemonette, the handmaidens of Slaanesh paid him visits from time to time, a thin smile split his face as he stepped closer to the being.
“Of course, it’s been too long since last I danced.”
He bows courteously and offers a metal hand.
“Shall we?”
Trill snapped her fingers, causing a sprightly music to fill the air. With careful tendrils, she took his hand leading him into a vigorous whirl. However, though inertia trailed behind them, the breath in his lungs remained as even as if they were taking a leisurely stroll. "I'be heard you're a weaponsmith too- I thought it would be fun to drop in for a chat!"
Where would your muse have the most advantagages in a fight?
I’ll start you off: Birb in the warp in an arena covered in sand.
Ice wasteland, tunnels. I swear to God Cain gets shoehorned into fucking tunnels every single novel. He is the tunnel king.
Or a flat dueling arena. No obstacles, just packed dirt.
Mosh pit
Fermata: leading her band after plenty of recon on both the terrain and the enemy and time to strategize. Trill: enclosed spaces with time to set up traps. Elegy: on her mount, with her lance, preferably on footing a normal beast can’t navigate well. Adagio: *SWINGS IN FROM A CHANDELIER*
Horrible etiquette. You always ALWAYS drop the chandelier on your enemies
Adagio: *bows* "With all due respect, oh favored of the Lady, I find that is often what lends my attacks the element of supprise. While courtesy is a fine and good thing, it must sometimes be sheathed when weapons are drawn."
Where would your muse have the most advantagages in a fight?
I’ll start you off: Birb in the warp in an arena covered in sand.
Ice wasteland, tunnels. I swear to God Cain gets shoehorned into fucking tunnels every single novel. He is the tunnel king.
Or a flat dueling arena. No obstacles, just packed dirt.
Mosh pit
Fermata: leading her band after plenty of recon on both the terrain and the enemy and time to strategize. Trill: enclosed spaces with time to set up traps. Elegy: on her mount, with her lance, preferably on footing a normal beast can't navigate well. Adagio: *SWINGS IN FROM A CHANDELIER*
Send me 💕 and I’ll make a moodboard for our two muses.
If the icon doesn’t work just send “Mood”
Reblog this if I have permission to come into your askbox IC at any point if my muse has a question for yours.
(Askthedeamonettes) ☠!
Send me a ☠ for your muse to stab mine.
Taceo hated the taste of blood. When your mouth was sewn shut by sutures writhing in chaotic spells blood was a constant. What wasn’t common was being stabbed in the lung and having the taste of blood bubble up from an internal source.
As a Slanneshi champion Taceo was accustomed to pain. Death was only an inconvenience when your patron goddess refused to let you rest.
Do you know what you have done?
Fermata looked down at him, her black eyes implacable. "Enough." She said, not even bothering to answer him in signs. "You’ve involved yourself in our missions for the last time."
Heretic
askthedeamonettes
“Yes, yes- is there an issue? If you’re worried that he’ll harm you for being captured, I wouldn’t. He wasn’t happy, but I think that had more to do with the fact that they’re planning to torture and execute you.” Before Scum could respond, there was a clicking sound followed by the sensation of the warp rushing back to greet her- vast, hungry, and impatient as a lover.
It came upon her like a wave. It started cold through her feet and flared hot across her scalp. Scum felt these invisible caressing fingers of the warp plunge suddenly and forcefully back into her mind. She jerked and sighed, bordering on indecent. Colour bloomed across her truer sight, the hue and perfume sweet of the smell seemed heavily influenced by Trill’s presence.
As the daze of realities passed, Scum grasped the bars. “How did he- Where–” She grimaced as more immediately pressing matters demanded attention. “We must leave, before we are discovered. I shudder to think what might happen were you shackled this way, Lady Trill.”
"Yes, yes. I don’t like that idea either. So, the plan-" Trill drew still more tools from her belt and set to work on the lock. "As I'm sure you know, I could fly you through space without the need for a voidsuite. Unfortunately, they've jumped pretty far into Imperial space. You wouldn't suffocate, but you'd still be dead of hunger and thirst before we got to the nearest safe planet. Lucky for you, one of my band mates agreed to pilot a small voidprobe to a point closer to here. I can fly us there, so we only need to get off awful ship unnoticed. For that, I can forge a glamour- make myself seem a guard and you a less obvious prisoner. The corpse dogs won't know the diffrence, as long as we don't do or say anything to give ourselves away. Got it?"
