card 1 is the starting point, and card 15 is who you will need to be to get through. This is a reading of the pattern of energy that comes the way of the client (me) in the next 13 weeks (about a season).
ruhest of rohs
some of these epithets are UPG btw
⋆༺𓆩𓅓❤︎🕊𓆪༻⋆
- CJ (Puck)
for the record my previous post contained epithets that apparently aren't real, however i like them so they are staying but you should know.
Even sorcerers following slaanesh get depressed right?
Volupta Delectatio was in one of her moods. She was a slaaneshi sorcereress so most of her moods tended to be rather extreme from happiness to rage. However today, or maybe for the last few todays, her mood had been as it sometimes was going as far as she could remember, melancholy. These melancholy moods were an uncommon yet reliable companion. Volupta had not left her room in the communalka she shared with Rax and Perdeca. Both had been busy recently doing something down in the engineerium.
To make matters worse, she had not particularly left her bed. The melancholy was setting in. Back in the hive before he left the planet, her brother used to stay with her day and night when she was like this. Perdeca normally checked in on her, but she supposed they were busy with some kind of weapon for her guard dog. It was a big bed. It used to host all manner of sensual retreat for the nobles that owned it, and now often did the same for the hivers that had stolen the ship.
Now though? The bed just felt Volupta’s body in a nest of blankets. She wasn't cold. She never ran cold these days, thank the Prince she simply did not want to be seen. There was always the nagging feeling in contrast to her search of higher pleasures and perfections that something had gone wrong. She could summon any number of Blessed Guardians to her side with a simple buzz and call on the ships intercom.. It probably wouldn't be difficult. Get up off the bed, crawl across the room and ask for them.
That was the rub. In order to do any of that; in order to get what she needed; what might help, she would have to actually leave the bed when everything told her to stay. She was so tried, so lethargic, so melancholic she did not want to move.
Her plan for these few days was to sculpt. Not flesh but her other favorite medium, clay that they had harvested from another world. It sat there on her wheel untouched. Most likely dried out by now, having to be reformed. Volupta wondered if she was like that clay all dried out, no longer mutable, stuck. Logically, she knew it was not a small voice in the back on her mind that screamed at her, but it was hard to feel that when everything just told her to stay there unmoving and the rest of her mind smothered the small voice. She never was one for logic.
She wanted to sculpt the clay into something new and exciting, a never-before-seen perfect form, but the first day, it eluded her. The first night, she figured she should sleep in order to get some more ideas in the morning. The second day, she hadn't moved from her bed. The second night, she slept still, and now, here on the third morning, Volupta just lay there.
She kept lying there under the small mountain of blankets she had made, feeling every smaller and smaller. What did it matter, really?
Then, Volupta let out a cry in pain. Something very large and bony had flung itself at her. Voluota tugged down the blanket covering her head. On Top of her was the handsome patchwork form of her loyal guard dog, shaved side hair, and wild grin. “My lady! Volupta! I knew you'd be here!”
Volupta, for the first time in a few days smiled. She sat up and Rax just kept looking up at her with all the enthusiasm of a woman whose collar was no longer administering her sedatives. “Where else would I be, Raxie?”
Rax took a deep breath, and the relatively new speaker implants on her arms began to hum, “Well, there was the mess hell and the stage there, the sex pit, the other sex pit, the orgy room, the garden we have in the ship, your room, Promachos’s room, the room where we keep… weapons? Anyway there's where I was and…that's where I think we were my lady.” Rax kept rambling on. Oh she loved her hound.
Then another voice she didn't expect, “Come now, heel,” Volupta looked up to see Promachos, the scorpion former martial champion of the cult, sitting at the edge of the bed. Their voice was tinged with the accent of their feudal world home. “We had not seen you in days,’
“I lost track of time,” Rax admitted halfway between a whimper and a laugh.
Promachos had to refrain from rolling their eyes. “Yes, well, I did not, and I grabbed her from the forge to check on you, my mademoiselle.”
Volupta looked between them and crawled over to Promachos. Rax followed her, crawling all over the bed. Volupta looked once more between them born and had the whip away the water welling at her eyes. “I thought you two didn't like each other.”
Then an almost simultaneous, “No, we don't.” and “I do not care for your current hound.”
Rax however added, “But we do however care about you! Mademoiselle.” Promachos clawed at her exposed arm with the scorpion tail they had. Rax did her best to hold in a moan.
She then pulled them both into a tight hug. Volupta didn't really know what to say. Rax took this opportunity to pip up, “Ma'am I've got something for you.”
“Oh? You do?” Volupta could not figure out what it was but Rax almost ran outside the room before pushing in a cart. On it was a familiar bowl that was one of the few things she had taken from her hive.
“Made you something! Promachos helped. They helped. A lot.”
They snorted. “It would do no good to have you starve here alone my mademoiselle, Slaanesh knows your hound cannot cook.”
Volupta looked down into the bowl. She wondered if Rax remembered she had given her the very same potato soup when Rax joined the guardians. Promachos had too, they had helped her make it.
Α Θ Η Ν Α
Π Ρ Ο Μ Α Χ Ο Σ Fantasy art
Αthena Promachos ( Forefighter)
In ancient Greece and during the Byzantine era, the Promachoi (singular: Promachos; Greek: πρόμαχος) were the men fighting in the first rank of the phalanx.The word can also be used as an adjective as in “promachos line” referring to the first line of battle.
The first use of the word is recorded in Homer’s Iliad.An obsolete…
