#bogachs

[ildotore]

"i think you have a large appetite that is not constrained by morality." hi hii

--- heavy is the tension in the room. time had become foreign since the meeting began ; the two men, adorned in their ways, sat peacefully across from one another. the doctor sat patiently, legs crossed, formal in body language. though, a slip of annoyance could be seen as fingers clasped one another, bringing hands together before his face. morality. a fool's concept, one that simply limited the ambitions of those restrained by it. what is morality, if not the laws of guilt assigned by those wishing to assume control over those they deem weaker than them. " a large appetite is needed these days, regrator. for, if we only allow ourselves a bite, then who supplies the full meal? "

eyes shift down beneath the mask, gaze casting towards the assortment of papers splayed before him. a smile presents itself, razor sharp teeth coming to view under the dim light filling the room. "now, broker, are you willing to support my research? or does your morality hold you back from seeing my vision true, " a hand moves down, sliding the papers over to the other, a contract, a way of supplying funds.

----- a dotted line, and a choice, to sign his soul participation in the building of new labs, and finding new subjects.

[fatedevour]

♢  —    @bogachs​​​​​​​​​​​​ asked:  "you're looking quite handsome today, docteur."

love, rosie sentences:

   Pantalone’s voice is like PHENOL, sickeningly sweet and tarry in Dottore’s ear. Unfortunately, for Pantalone, it has never been that siren-song that’s ever been what has caught the doctor’s attention. No matter how he might purr or smile or lure in the oblivious folks, those same men and women who can be ENCHANTED by a flash of gold or sparkle of a jewel, it fell flat to the man who chased after knowledge to feast on like unending vortex of charybdis at the expense of ALL ELSE. No. Fine silks, perfect accents, graceful poise? It meant nothing. Nothing but a needless display of pointlessness. But a snake’s venom is useless to the crushing power of the jaguar’s jaws. They were simple DIFFERENT and therefore INCOMPARABLE. Although he could INDULGE in sipping the sweet venom, he could also choose to REJECT it and hear the words as they were. Such was the latter how he treated the present moment.

   Dottore arches a brow as he watches Pantalone lift a hand to fix some ruffle of the NEW outfit that the doctor wore. He HADN’T been expecting a visit from the banker, rather certain that Pantalone was undoubtedly busy pouring over maps and numbers and trade information as usual - or preparing for the upcoming tax season. Although the HISS of his door opening had given a rather solid guess to who his visitor was given how FEW people would visit, let alone dare step in without announcement, it’d still been a vague surprise that he hid behind a clinical expression.

   “  You must rather LIKE this outfit to give me such a compliment unprompted.  “  Dottore remarks, lifting a hand up to catch Pantalone’s ELEGANT wrist before he can retract it to safety.  “  I’m glad you approve however. You are the FIRST to see it. Besides its creator of course.  “ With that hold on him, he gives a gentle but firm tug to draw Pantalone closer as he leans back against his empty desk. He watches how the dim light flickers over ink and moonlight hair, watches the corners of his eyes and lips for the subtle changes while his free hand rests against his hip.  “  So what is it you’re after, NIGHTSHADE? You rarely visit for NO reason of some kind.  “  He tease with what is far from a TYPICAL nickname, yet one nonetheless and no less fond in the UNDENIABLY contained traces of typical Dottore-esque aesthetics to it.  “  I have a meeting with Her Majesty and Pierro in a bit.  “  He murmurs UNPROMPTED, rough lips so close they could brush across the softness of Pantalone’s before he leans away slightly, curious to see if the banker’s GREED would drive him to chase the temptation of a kiss.

   It is true. He does have that meeting, but there was no RUSH in his movements, showcasing the fact that it was NOT  a case of last minute decision for him to change from a DISSECTION standard coat to the elegance of this new outfit. There was still SOME time to be had and he would selfishly indulge that in the company of Pantalone.

[inavagrant-a]

@bogachs said:

❛ how much do you value your life? ❜

Of course, how can he forget that this degenerate likes to play with his food? To think out of all the harbingers possible in this damn encampment it would be Pantalone. Why in the world is Pantalone out and about? From what memories he does have of the guy he was always in the damn palace or busy with financial matters that having to travel wasn't something he had to do all that often. But, he supposes that even Scaramouche didn't know everything Pantalone would be up to or what he would have to do. To Tetsuya's credit he's fairing quite well against him, but it began to become a problem when he took out guns. Why the fuck does he have guns?

Tetsuya looks down at his arm, where the bullet hit and to his surprise it wasn't just one but two. This guy must be quick with the trigger if even he couldn't tell that he shot two bullets at him not one. If he gets hit in the head by one of those then he's going to be out for the count and that's what has Tetsuya so on edge right now. He's not going to die, at this point he's half-convinced he can't do such a thing, but he can get knocked out and a strong shock to the head is exactly what that would do to him, it would knock him out for a while and he'll be out of it. He won't be able to defend himself or know what's going on until much, much later, he would be left vulnerable and he really can't afford such a thing, especially not after making an enemy of the Fatui, after making them his target if only for the sake to get to Dottore. Technically, Pantalone would have been his best bet to get some sort of information on Dottore, because these two are partners, he's sure of that. However the moment the firearms came out then all thought of this being just his lucky day went right out the window, more so when Pantalone actually landed a couple of shots, the two bullets making his arm feel heavy, a huge strain to move and to have listen to him. The pain isn't the problem here, it's the fact that he has to put extra work into having his damaged arm function and listen to his command, already putting him at a disadvantage.

Pantalone's words do nothing short of pissing him off. How much he values his life... he'd think not very much, even if how he acts may say otherwise, may speak a different story in the place of his words. If he's fighting for it then surely he values it to some degree, right? He glares at the banker who more than likely is quite happy with his work. "Quit playing with your damn food," Tetsuya almost hisses at him, "if you're going to shoot then fucking shoot." He curses at him but immediately follows up with a wind blade aimed directly at the banker's neck that should it make contact will make that head of his topple right off of his shoulders as if it were some sort of ball kids could play with and bounce around to their little hearts' enjoyment. Tetsuya isn't planning on staying here like he's some sort of sitting duck, immediately following up said wind blade with another to blind his field of vision, dirt and dust rising from their general area to blind not just one of them but both. He has to fix his arm, he can not fight like this, the self-healing will not fix it quick enough.

[sigmadolos]

starter call  -  @bogachs​​

   The casino was something that seemed to paradoxically stand out yet blend in to the Liyue landscape.  An exterior design that sprawled the landscape yet kept plenty of the nature in the gardens and fountains, while inside contained grandious architecture from the mere entrance hall that sprawled throughout. It was certainly a FAR cry from the typical gambling house in both luxury and its famous open door policy to all, regardless of where they hailed from. (  All grudges were to be left at the door and no blood to be spilt upon marble or dyed carpets.  )  Undoubtedly such were factors that made it a popular destination, along with a murmur for higher chances of winning.  (  Little did the people know it was naught but a clever tactic. If people won more, they were ultimately more inclined to spend more and more and return more frequently.  )  

    “  Welcome to the Aeria Casino. You must be Lord Pantalone.  “  Sigma offers a warm smile of greeting, a graceful hand placed over his chest as he bows his head slightly in respect.  “  My name is Sigma, I’m the owner.  It is quite the honor to have you pay a visit.  “  Certainly by what word of mouth conveyed, it was rare to be able to truly covet the Harbinger’s personal arrival.  “  I believe the messenger conveyed a desire to discuss business?  “  He allows his hand to fall back to his side, head tilted slightly to one side with careful grace.  “  I’m happy to do so whenever you might please, whether it be now or later if you’re prefer to eat and drink first. I do hope your travels were pleasant. We have private quarters as well if you’d prefer to rest, I ensured the best rooms were open in case you might.  “   An open demeanor that concealed the careful observation of the other’s body language.  “  Or, of course, If you’d perhaps like to see if Lady Luck is in your favor this afternoon, you’re welcomed  to the games.  “  He offers a gentle laugh, like windchimes in a gentle spring breeze.  “  It is my intention to ensure all guests have the best experience here. I’m happy to do all I can to ensure a pleasant time.  “

[lalohefalter]

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝔃𝓮𝓷 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓭 ✉ ░ @bogachs ― [  DANCE  ]  for  your  muse  to  take  my  muse’s  hand  and  start  dancing  with  them  (i hope it is ok for me to send this still -- i am aching for pantalone and signora interactions, they're besties in my book your honor… the mean girls of the harbingers, not matter what the game says)

❝ I'm impressed, you keep up well. ❞ For only someone like Pantalone could take her hand without resistance, to lead her onto this makeshift dance floor with only them as witness; to relive something dear from the past did not leave Signora vulnerable, for this was a waltz for Harbingers, to dance within destruction && chaos, to remain sane without the ghost of the past to haunt. It's enough that her guard remains up, while her smile can still soften, that she still continues to lead without aggression -- it was merely in her nature to do so. Allowing him to take control was allowed, to switch it up every so often without fall back was part of the shared bond they had.

She pulls him close, sharply, and her grin widens; he doesn't falter of course. Boo. Still, it means they can carry on as usual.

❝ Do keep that Doctor in check. Won't you? ❞ The same conversations, the casual tone in her voice saved for occasions like this. ❝ He can be quite troublesome for me. Ah, I'm sure you understand, hmm. ❞

She was still not Rosaylne; even as they continued to dance the night away, no shattered memories could pull her down. She tightens her hold, tilting head to the side, && her stilled menace remained as bright as always for the Fair Lady. Perfect. Beautiful.

[nazorneku]

ღ (also for pantalone by fox because i'm a useless simp 🫣)

Crimson eyes behind framed lenses shimmered with evident amusement upon receiving that particular request, deliberately extending the moment of vocalizing own point of view. Denying the other sweet satisfaction of obtaining the desirable and teetering on the precipice between social etiquette and savagery provided the most exhilarating experience. "Curious, aren't we?" Another ambiguous smile broke the thin line of his lips, when eventually the results were laid bare in front of the raven-haired. Nonetheless, one could not guarantee the judgement was brought upon the man himself and not his vast resources.

Romantic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme Sexual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme Aesthetic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme Sensual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme

& attraction prompt         ||          accepting

[csial]

8. did you have a muse you tried to play, but didn’t feel connected to? / 29. what are your honest thought about your muse’s canon? / 16. what’s the best way to approach you to start playing together?

8. did you have a muse you tried to play, but didn’t feel connected to?

I have had plenty over the time I've been invested in rp, but most recently I did trial Rosaria on my multi. She ended up not working out as while I appreciate her as a character I wasn't invested enough to spend time thinking about her. So I dropped her when I did a sprucing up of my muses.

29. what are your honest thought about your muse’s canon?

I want more information. Or at least I would have done had I not started building it and now I think my playground now. I do think Osial is fascinating from the little bits that are given and I enjoy the skeleton I have to work with. His canon is ultimately pretty tragic but a lot of fun when used as building blocks.

16. what’s the best way to approach you to start playing together?

Absolute easiest would be to fill in the interest checker as that has a question at the bottom that asks me to start the interactions by sending an unprompted ask. Also sending asks ic / ooc to engage is always recommended. And if we've been mutuals a while or mutuals across blogs adding me on disc.ord and talking dynamics. can be as simple as x and y should be buddies or y should hate x or z should hold x's hand or as in depth as plotting out the whole life ahead of the muses. Or just stab the heart on an inbox call. I tend to do them fairly frequently on various blogs for when I'm travelling by train. I'm pretty easy to interact with generally!!

MUNDAY ASKS. // @bogachs

[fatedevour]

♢  —    @bogachs​​​​ asked:🎤 → voicing their insecurities (wOULD HE THO)

encounter my muse in a scenario  🎤 → voicing their insecurities

   Alcohol has never been something Dottore has ever been particularly KEEN on. It dilutes the quality of thoughts and behaviors, rending work pointless for several hours at best and many hours at worst. Factor in side effects of experimentation that increased resistance, and the second harbinger was not one to be seen bothering to drinking nor BE drunk or even close to it. (That, and he rarely left his lab or private quarters so seeing him at all could be a challenge.) But that did not mean he wouldn’t partake on OCCASION when he was left alone.

   It burns, and he’s never found the appeal of the sensation, but neither does it particularly bother him. It simply is. Just like it simply IS that Pantalone is walking into the room as he takes another long drink from the bottle to drain the last of it like the one earlier. Everything was hazy to think about, but he’s quite sure he didn’t forget anything that would warrant the unexpected appearance. He NEVER did on the rare times he drank for exactly this reason. So no one would bother him. He clicks his tongue, but his tongue feels heavy and weighted in his mouth as he head falls back against the chair.

   “  You certainly can smell OPPORTUNITY, can’t you? Like a shark can smell blood in the water. Did you know some sharks can can smell blood up to a quarter of a mile, or four hundred meters, away?  “  Dottore remarks, eyes closing to hide his infernal gaze away from prying gold. Like honey. It’s a thought that fits rather well; like mora, but also like honey, luring people in to trap them unknowingly in the sticky sweetness they perceive.  “ Come to pick my brain clean of what I might divulge like this?  “  He chuckles, but there’s an ODD, albeit subtle, higher tone that bleeds into the sound that warps it in a way it usually isn’t, metal pushed near its brittle point. Even steel can eventually fracture.

   Dottore pushes his chair back, giving little regard to how it scrapes against the wood as he stands up, a gloved hand keeping a careful grip on the wood. He should shut up and see what Pantalone wants, or see if Pantalone decides to just leave. But does he believe he would? ...No. No, he doesn’t. Pantalone always looks for opportunity for information, and isn’t this just a familiar set up for that silver tongue? Not against Dottore, but with drunk fools who will spill information and secrets they normally wouldn’t. It’s a thought that had red eyes simply staring at Pantalone for a moment, blank. He’s a damn fool. It’s there, that bubble of laughter that bleeds and shakes his body, but it it isn’t funny and it isn’t happy, and is (vexingly) more akin to BETA or the younger segments than Prime. But Prime was OLDER than Beta, at least in the timeline of the original Dottore’s life, it was natural that aspects of younger segments would still exist in an older segment and not vise versa.

   “  You know...  “  He rasps, abruptly swinging his gaze to focus on the empty bottles sat on the edge of the desk as he leans back against the front of it. “  You do it too. Keep me away, at bay. Like something to be kept to the edge of a forest. Though, the edge is closer than others allow.  “  A gloved finger rests against the rim of the bottle as if to shove it off and watch glass shatter into thousands of shards against the floor, though he does not actually do it. It’s an unprompted comment, sparked by nothing in particular other than the chaos of Dottore’s mind. Why did he say that? Dottore frowns for a moment as if in deep thought before looking to Pantalone.

  “  What are you here for? If its business, I’m rather afraid to say I’ve taken the evening off for once.  “  Well,  midnight wasn’t exactly evening but no matter. The point still stood. He gave a tired exhale, eyes sliding close again. “  But if you want a drink I have a few different bottles around. Help yourself.  “  A gloved hand gestured to a few unopened bottles, all of high quality. 

[inavagrant-a]

@bogachs said:

❛ it’s very rude to stare. ❜

Should he or should he not say anything, the balladeer wonders. He is inclined towards keeping his mouth shut this time around (I know, what a miracle right?), finding the thought of someone else pointing it out to Pantalone far more humorous and worth his while. However, that doesn't mean that Pantalone is saved from Scaramouche's rather keen and judgmental gaze. He will give credit where it is due, it did take Scaramouche a while to notice, but that was only because both him and Pantalone were regarding some infantrymen and relaying orders to them. It wasn't until they were completely gone that the sixth took notice of that horrible and hideous bitemark on the banker's neck, right under his pulse. At first Scaramouche thought that perhaps he was simply seeing things, why Pantalone is no gentleman, but he has a finesse and an etiquette that Scaramouche begrudgingly appreciates in silence and finds himself, every now and then, trying to mimic if only to entertain himself. Shake things up a bit, keep, not just him, but those around him on their toes. One thing Scaramouche will never mimic is that plastic smile, finding his own much more convincing and favorable. It is that finesse from yours truly that made Scaramouche second guess his rather observant eyes if only for a split second. But no, his eyes never lie, his eyes never deceive him, and they've not once failed him. Truly that nasty thing on the banker's neck, though there seems to have been a futile attempt to conceal from the peering eyes of the world, is there. Someone gave Pantalone a hickey.

Not just someone, Scaramouche isn't stupid, he knows exactly who did it. That deranged doctor, Dottore. Dottore has given Pantalone a hickey, and a rather nasty one too. The sixth isn't going to laugh, but he finds the entire situation something worth laughing about. He really wasn't planning on saying anything, because again, perhaps someone else pointing it out to Pantalone would be a much more entertaining situation. Pierro or the Captain, but alas he supposes he can never have some fun around here and in the rare times he does keep his mouth shut nobody even appreciates him then. These ungrateful people, honestly, he can never make them happy. Does he want to make them happy? No of course not, they don't matter, the point and case here is that they will always have something to complain about even if Scaramouche isn't actively searching for some sort of dilemma. Though truly, he supposes he can not blame them, they are far beneath him after all, he can not expect them to comprehend.

Scaramouche raises an eyebrow at Pantalone who has not taken his silent judgmental gaze all too kindly. "Heh," he may as well tell him then, the cat is out of the bag, "with that disgusting mark the Doctor left on your neck it's kind of hard not to." He points it out oh so casually to Pantalone should he have not been aware of it yet. "Tired of the class act and ready to come out as a degenerate just like the Doctor, eh Pantalone?" A shame if that's the case. Of course, Scaramouche merely jests, only stirring the pot because it's fun, it gets boring the same thing over and over and over again. How anybody can find commodity and comfort in a routine, ugh. Imagine being that lifeless. "I would do something about that if I were you," especially before reporting any official business to Pierro or worse... The Tsaritsa. "Word has it that using a really cold utensil can help get rid of that fast. I recommend it." From a concerned co-worker to another, if you will. He can use a spoon, if he would like or use a fork and carve the flesh itself out, Scaramouche doesn't care.

[stabby-pal]

Coloured the kelpie doodle and can confirm that I love her

[risingsol]

bogachs / random acts prompts / not accepting

💨 catch my muse in a lie (pantalone)

Maybe it was confidence? Or perhaps a degree of arrogance that seemed to come with being one of the Tsaritsa's closest confidants? Part of the traveler knew not to automatically assume things simply based on affiliations and associations here in Teyvat, especially when different plans and aspirations were always in motion - fluid and forever changing like the streams that flowed through Liyue. At the same time, there was something to be said about the air of cold calculation that he had felt the minute the other's footsteps echoed in the hallways of Northland Bank.

"...what's your real motivation behind negotiating with me? Northland Bank has enough power within the harbor now to be able to do most of anything, even with the Qixing as a governing body. You don't need some kind of partnership with me in order to move forward with other plans here."

[thetalamhclisteach]

Ah, what an unusual corpse standard? A fearsome specimen, Bogach Miku (Hatsune Miku but in Wrought Rot).

[nazorneku]

PANTALONE ( @bogachs ) INQUIRED OF MR. FOX: "i appreciate what you’ve done for me."

The law. The system based on principles of conduct or actions prescribed or formally recognized by a particular nation or community as binding or enforced onto its members by the imposition of penalties. Or one would assume, as for the "money attorney" liberate interpretation of its content proved to be instrumental when handling cases of vast varieties and intricacy. The current trial was akin to numerous others - abduction, blackmail, unethical experimentation; an exceedingly dull routine despite the allure of a generous paycheck, another accomplishment on the long list of won cases.

Long fingers intertwined atop his chest, elbows prodded the armrests of an armchair as the man nested comfortably whilst breathing out scarcely audibly. "One would assume the Fatui were experienced in subtlety." For such organization the consequences of the latest mishap from one of their Harbingers would be astronomical, thus it would behoove to employ someone with particular capabilities. Nevertheless Mr. Fox possessed no inclination to familiarize self with 'original' culprit nor intended to acquire additional information 'bout the employee to further own goals, the forthcoming compensation was of a priority.

Carmine gaze expectantly beheld the other man, wrapped elegantly in leather and furs, emitting a rather peculiar aura of vivid pretence once lips stretched into an ambiguous smile, not unlike his own, such an uncanny similarity begat an unbridled fascination. Once the words were uttered, the line of lips curved deeper, obtaining a mischievous form, prompting him to act puckishly. "And I would appreciate the paycheck." The response followed almost instantly, imitating the other's speech, ridiculing, and not affording even a modicum of effort to conceal it with the tone.

&. action-themed prompts         ||          accepting  

[pierwszy-akapit]

"Pewnej nocy Ażrarn, Książę Demonów, jeden z Władców Ciemności, przybrał dla rozrywki kształt wielkiego czarnego orła. Łopocąc ogromnymi skrzydłami poszybował na wschód i na zachód, na północ i na południe, do czterech krańców świata, jako że w owych dniach Ziemia była płaska i unosiła się na oceanie chaosu. Patrzył na oświetlone procesje ludzi pełzających w dole z lampami maleńkimi jak iskry, na morskie bałwany rozkwitające bielą na skalistych brzegach. Przeleciał nad wysokimi kamiennymi wieżami i pylonami miast, obdarzając je krótkim spojrzeniem pełnym ironii i pogardy, przysiadł przez chwilę na maszcie jakiejś cesarskiej galery, gdzie król i królowa siedzieli delektując się przepiórkami w miodzie, podczas gdy wioślarze prężyli się nad wiosłami, a raz złożył swe atramentowe skrzydła na dachu jakiejś świątyni i zaśmiewał się głośno z wyobrażeń, jakie ludzie mają o bogach." – Tanith Lee "Demon ciemności"

[csial]

Talk about Zhongli!

"Unfathomable..." A sigh as he rests upon the rocky debris that clutters his realm, a chalice in hand that is not his and yet bestowed to him by one who had no reason to allow it into his possession. Should not allow it into his possession and yet declared it his to subsume all the same.

"I will never undestand that man..." His gaze turns, across the sea in the direction of the bustling Harbour that he prefers to avoid and wonders still what it is that drives the one he knew once. "He wraps the ages around him and bears their weight in his memory and yet shrugs off duty in favour of handing that which he fought for to that Snezhnayan archon. So definite in his duties yet still speaking as though..." We were friends. He does not like to remember that before they were foes there was a friendship there, even when reminded by a kindness unexpected. Bestowing that which was his old friend's into his care.

"He speaks of dying ages and the next Liyue as if we should accept fate and let it pass. I do not understand why he trusts what he built to creatures so impulsive and fleeting and humans, even less so do I understand his desire to live among them." A terse hiss, fingers clutching tighter at the chalice in his hands, a relic of an old friend, one he will hold onto safely. "I do not understand him at all."

TALK ABOUT...! // @bogachs

[seriously-mike]

Żenująca Propozycja na Eurowizję

Ludzie na YouTube zaczęli po porażce Luny proponować w komentarzach, żeby następnym razem wypchnąć coś z mojej nieustającej Gali Piosenki Żenującej. Little did they know...

OTURZ miałem rozgrzebany tekst kawałka toczącego bezlitosną bekę z neopogaństwa, kiedy w kontekście jakiejś rozmowy wyszedł temat tego, co na tegoroczną Eurowizję wyprodukowała Justyna Steczkowska. Przypomniało mi to, że w grudniu Steczkowska walnęła na FB posta z takim egzaltowanym pierdoleniem na temat tego kawałka, że mogłem go tylko skwitować naklejką z bardzo zdumionym króliczkiem. Te nieznośne bździny na temat refrenu, który ma być "słowiańskimi słowami mocy", jakoś tak spięły mi się z ciśnięciem po ludziach dla których neopoganizm to folk metal i tanie wino, i tak oto cztery linijki o waleniu jaboli i pogańskich bogach zostały rozwinięte o refren w oczywisty sposób parodiujący Steczkowską (i motyw "Matko Naturo", też wzięty z tekstu eurogniota).

Browar! Jabol! Wino! Z siarą! Łyskacz! Wóda! Wszystko to wychleję! Matko Naturo, Dzięki tobie jest gdzie chlać, W parku czy w lesie, Tam się zbiera nasza brać, (Ooo, japa-tapa-tam!) Zapalcie pochodnie na chwałę Odyna, (Japa-tapa-tam!) Wkrótce Valhalla, a dzisiaj - val vina! Browar! Jabol! Wino! Z siarą! Łyskacz! Wóda! Wszystko to wychleję! Matko Naturo, My będziemy ciebie czcić, W lesie po nocy, Będziem tanie wino pić, (Ooo, japa-tapa-tam!) Nie będziemy klękać przed fałszywym bogiem, (Japa-tapa-tam!) Bo mamy swojego Srygława z Twarogiem! Browar! Jabol! Wino! Z siarą! Łyskacz! Wóda! Wszystko to wychleję! Matko Naturo, Jak się nawalę trochę Tobie na chwałę Wszystkim pokażę psiochę, (Ooo, japa-tapa-tam!) Z okowów majtek jestem wyzwolona, (Japa-tapa-tam!) W świetle księżyca leżę rozkraczona! Browar! Jabol! Wino! Z siarą! Łyskacz! Wóda! Wszystko to wychleję!

Okładka, po raz kolejny, jest trochę mądrzejsza niż się na pierwszy rzut oka wydaje. Tak jak na okładce "Ballady o Bezgłowej Kurwie" sukienka musiała być żółta, bo przecież średniowieczne kurtyzany rozpoznawano po żółtych elementach stroju, tak tutaj mamy wiccański motyw Dziewicy, Matki i Staruchy (for a given value) plus alchemiczne albedo-rubedo-nigredo - jak parodiować ezograżynkowe pierdolenie Steczkowskiej, to tylko okładką która jest poważna niczym Leslie Nielsen. A żeby zachować podobieństwo wszystkich trzech twarzy i nie krzywdzić osób trzecich, to Fotobudka z Piekła Rodem znowu poszła w ruch, z moim ryjem jako bazą. Potem wystarczyło trochę wygłaskać wszystkie trzy w Fotoszopie (zwłaszcza ten czerwony kaukaski welon, żeby częściowo prześwitywał) i domalować nowe tło za pomocą Stable Diffusion (przy okazji uzupełniło to luźne kłaki Dziewicy Hehe po lewo).