#undertaking alchemy

[whump-card]

Undertaking Alchemy: Chapter 1: Volatile Observation

CW: intimate whumper, kidnapping, captivity, violence

Next, Masterlist

Read on Ao3!

~~~

Soft fingers of morning sunlight crept in through the narrow leaded windows, the only outside visitor allowed in the alchemist’s tower prison. The golden beams warped through glass flasks and tubes, fanning rainbows across Ailen’s face where he lay in bed. The glinting otherworldly colors almost disguised the bruise blooming yellow across his dark cheekbone.

Ailen was awake and enjoying, as much as he was able to, the silence of the sunrise. The morning was when he felt best: most refreshed, most able to face his hopeless situation. Here in the hour of dawn, he was left unbothered. Unaccosted. The bed was warm and soft. With his eyes closed, he could easily imagine himself somewhere else.

Home, perhaps. With Mila.

The fantasy felt good – until it hurt.

The rainbow slid down his face and over his shoulder as he sat up, folding the goose-down duvet back and swinging his feet to the floor. The bed, a wardrobe, and a sink were located at 6 o’clock in an oval depression a few steps down from the lab which occupied the majority of the round tower room, but the meager living space was separated in no other way; he could see the door from where he sat, a heavy iron-barred thing at 3 o’clock, and anyone who entered could see him. The only real retreat could be found in the tiny toilet chamber at 12 o’clock.

The lack of privacy was old hat at this point. Ailen freed his braids from their silk scarf and shed his nightshirt; he washed up at the basin and moisturized his skin, scalp, and hair with a scant amount of oil of aramat; shivered as the chill air ghosted over healing bruises. He dressed quickly, in warm tall stockings, trousers, and a shirt and sweater vest, securing arm garters to hold his sleeves back – couldn’t have fabric draping down into open flames or stewing mixtures. His braids, too, tapered ends brushing his shoulders, were pulled out of his face with a silk tie. Lastly he donned a stained apron made of light leather.

He stepped into his shoes and crossed the laboratory to the windows, located at 9 o’clock on the tower’s circumference. One could be cranked open, just a few inches, to feel the air. It was bitingly cold today. Ailen’s breath clouded as he peeked out. No snow yet, only skeletal trees reaching thousands of arms up, as far as the eye could see.

Snow wasn’t something Ailen was particularly looking forward to. It was just something different. A symbol of time moving, against all odds.

He took one last breath of fresh air before closing the window and turning to face the lab.

Mismatched tables and cabinets gathered in a huddle, host to heating elements, alembics, kettles, beakers, jars, charts, books, scrolls, scribbled recipes, star maps – anything. Everything. Ailen had tried everything.

Time to think of something else.

Ailen dove in, shuffling through papers, flipping through books. Maybe if he combined Delvetta’s second principle with the magnetism of – no, he’d already done that! Mourning theory, but applied to thaumaturgical practice rather than alchemical? That would… definitely explode. Forthright’s compound, but move every ingredient one space to the left on the elemental table?

Ailen huffed. That was idiotic.

It would have to do.

He got as far as distilling the rovarian oxide when he heard the bolt slide and the door creak open behind him.

Even after all these weeks, the hair on the back of Ailen’s neck stood up.

“How’s my little alchemist?” the monster purred.

“Well, sir,” Ailen replied, carefully setting down the book he had been holding and smoothing out the page with a quaking hand.

“What are we working on today?” The door shut, and footsteps approached Ailen’s back.

“A v- a variation on, um, Forthright’s compound. Sir.” Ailen kept his eyes fixed on the open page in front of him.

“What kind of variation?” The footsteps turned, started to pace.

“A… substitution, of certain ingredients, that may yield… new results,” Ailen voice wavered as he struggled to put together a sentence through the fear.

“New results?”

“Yes, sir.”

“New results, or the results that I want?”

“I’m,” Ailen swallowed, “I’m fairly confident-”

“Fairly?”

The wizard was right behind Ailen, leaning in, hot breath on his ear. The stench of sulfur invaded his nostrils and the book blurred as tears flooded his eyes.

“Please let me try, sir, please let me try.”

“Oh,” the monster’s voice took on an air of sympathy, “What are you here for if not to try?” The footsteps retreated back towards the door. “I’ll check in again later.”

As soon as the bolt slid into place and signaled the wizard’s departure Ailen sank down onto his heels, pressing his forehead into the edge of the table with a shuddering breath.

One to the left didn’t fucking cut it.

Do better. Be better.

Ailen surged to his feet – swayed a moment – then seized his much-annotated elemental chart. Fuck one to the left. He knew his interactivities, his compatibilities. He could make educated decisions. He could do a real experiment.

He could bring the world one step closer to the philosopher’s stone.

~~~

The second time the bolt slid, Ailen was relieved. It was not the sharp, confident sound of the master of the castle entering, but instead the awkward, twitchy movements of the homunculus. He turned to watch the construct enter; a hairless, ashen-gray humanoid with large cats-eye marbles – its namesake – for eyes, dressed in formal butler’s attire. It bore a tray of food; braised leeks and potatoes with sausage. Ailen moved a few books and vials to make space on one table as the homunculus approached in its wandering way. It set the tray down with a clunk, and waited.

“Thank you, Marbles,” Ailen said with a weak smile.

The thanks was unnecessary, Marbles needed no kindness; but it was alive, in a way, and trapped, in a way, and it was entirely Ailen’s fault. The wizard had ordered him to create the homunculus soon after his arrival at Castle Dunswoll. Marbles worked without rest, cooking, cleaning, seeing to the needs of master and alchemist alike. It couldn’t be a pleasant existence, even if the construct wasn’t equipped to understand it.

“Listen,” Ailen said, picking up a page of his notes, eyes scanning it, “I replaced the termetic with calcium, and the sulfur with ink of demure, but I’m stuck on the aluminum. I can’t figure out what makes sense there – or if I even change it at all. What do you think?”

He looked up at Marbles, and the homunculus stared back. After a moment Ailen nodded.

“Yes, yes, I’ll leave it as it is. Too many variables to find a replacement.”

It was helpful, to speak aloud to someone. Ailen missed having a lab partner.

“Thanks again, Marbles. You may go.”

Marbles lurched out of the laboratory and Ailen watched it leave, unable to shake the sense of kinship he felt. But nonetheless, the bolt rattled back into place.

~~~

Ailen Maivon was the finest alchemist this side of the River Folk. He’d proven Winchester’s Theory, discovered the 46th element, invented half a dozen effective medicinal tinctures – his list of accolades went on.

Ailen had never thought his skill would make him a target. Perhaps that was naive.

The first that the alchemist heard of the wizard Edelgard was a warning. A cryptic letter, slipped under his door.

Watch out for the wizard Edelgard. Don’t go out after dark.

A strange note, but easily dismissed as a child’s game so close to All Hallow’s Eve.

The next time Ailen left his home after sunset, he didn’t return.

He’d awoken, sick as a dog, in the fully kitted laboratory tower. He’d fallen out of bed and nearly vomited on the shoes of the wizard looming over him.

“Teleportation magic is taxing on those unused to it. You’ll recover shortly.”

Ailen had raised his head, his eyes seeking upwards, from leather shoes to wool trousers to gold-buttoned damask robe. A swift kick to his ribs prevented him from taking in much more beyond that than pale eyes, sharp features, and graying hair.

“Don’t look at me unless I say so.”

Ailen had never imagined himself as cowardly, but he had also never faced true aggression. He was well-liked, too skilled to have true rivals, and lived in peaceful times. He found himself shaking like a fawn, obediently bowing his head.

“Wh-who…?”

“I am the wizard Edelgard. You will refer to me as sir,” the wizard began to pace, “You are in my home, Castle Dunswoll. And you are here,” he paused for dramatic effect, “To create the philosopher’s stone.”

Ailen’s head snapped up as he looked in disbelief at those pale eyes.

“You-”

Edelgard flicked his wrist and Ailen felt a cold hand against the back of his head. It dug its fingers in and slammed his head against the wooden floor. A mage hand, and a frighteningly corporeal one at that. Between this and the teleportation, Edelgard was far more powerful than any wizard Ailen had met before.

“Don’t look at me,” Edelgard repeated slowly, “Unless I say so.”

“I won’t!” Ailen panted, “I won’t.”

“Say yes sir.”

Ailen struggled against the mage hand, pressing his palms into the floor. This was wrong, this was very, very wrong.

A second hand materialized, seizing Ailen’s wrist and twisting his arm behind his back, painfully tight. The alchemist cried out.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir, please!”

The hand on his wrist eased up.

“Better,��� said the wizard softly.

Air rushed in and out of Ailen’s lungs in frenzied half sobs.

“You can’t – you can’t do this, people will look for me!”

“And they will not find you,” Edelgard replied simply.

Ailen’s vision blurred with tears.

“The philosopher’s stone is a myth! It’s a myth! I can’t make it!”

“Oh, you will. However long it takes.”

“No, please, sir, you have to let me go. If, if you let me go I won’t tell anyone, I won’t say anything, please.”

“I will release you when you have created the stone, and granted me eternal life. I will sign any document, swear any oath, promising such.”

“Please, I can’t!”

“I have faith in you, my little alchemist.”

Ailen heard the leather shoes step close to his head, sensed the wizard sink into a crouch. A warm hand tucked a stray braid behind his ear.

“You’ll figure it out.”

~~~

Next, Masterlist

Chapter One taglist (HEY YOU!! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the story, otherwise I will not): @inhurtandincomfort @deadwrites @fleur-a-whump @inscrutable-shadow

[avidlylivid]

so many swag epic awesome tmnt iterations (/gen /pos) and then I realise I Have Not Solidified Mine

anyways need to actually make the au premise other than random fun facts about them and their dynamics then come up with a name and then :3 the guys !!!

[funeral]

Alchemy takes these conflicts, given to us by a turbulent Cosmos in a philosophically compromised and imperfect way, and makes them available to us in all their sheer intellectual force, because alchemy allows us to rediscover the sublime . . . after the meticulous, thorough grinding down of any form that is insufficiently refined, insufficiently developed. This is because it is a basic principle of alchemy to stop the spirit rushing on before first passing through all the channels, all the foundations of existing matter, and going back over such work, doubling it, in the incandescent liminality of the future. One might say that in order to earn actual material gold, your being has to have first proven itself capable of the other kind of gold, and that it could only grasp this, only reach it, by submitting to it, by appreciating it as a secondary symbol of the fall it has to undertake in order to rediscover in a solid, opaque manner that expression of light itself, of scarcity, of the irreducible.

Antonin Artaud, The Theatre and its Double

[masochist-marmot]

What's up with the OIAR?

Disclaimer/spoiler warning: Written after TMAGP ep. 34. Spoilers for all of the Magnus Protocol until this point. Minor spoilers for the Magnus Archives.

These are some theories I've cooked up in the alchemy lab of my mind. They are wild, incomplete and probably contradictory, so take them for what they are. I base all of this on the tria prima theory I explained in an earlier post, so go read that for context.

I decided to only focus on the OIAR in this post. I'll make another post on my Magnus Institute theories later and link to them eventually.

What's the purpose of the OIAR?

Here's what we know:

The OIAR monitors and assesses incidents and (at least in the past) responds to them if necessary

Based on the ARG and Colin's ramblings, it used to be under DDR, probably run by their secret police. Fr3-d1's source code is in German, so that makes sense. The operation was probably moved to the UK after the DDR disbanded.

It employs and (according to Lena) manages "externals". Lena considers this work vital, and Colin blames the OIAR for only caring about the "balance", specifically mentioning mercury and sulphur.

I will start by quoting the German physician and alchemist Paracelsus who first proposed the tria prima as the integral principles and used them in his practice of medicine.

If you have a bone and can say whether it is mostly Sulphur, Mercury, or Salt, you know why it is diseased or what is the matter with it.  The peasant can see the externals, but the physician's task is to see the inner and secret matter. (Paracelsus, Opus Paramirum)

(Translation by Nicholas Goodrick-Clarke. I compared it against another translation and the original German, and it's more or less accurate but much easier to understand.)

This may sound far-fetched, but I think the OIAR are practicing Paracelsian medicine on a macrocosmic level. That is, they are monitoring the universal levels of Sulphur, Mercury, and Salt, the imbalance of which is causing these weird supernatural occurrences. Except they can't address every incident individually, so they can only concern themselves with the overall effect (surely a mercury poisoning somewhere balances a salt poisoning somewhere else) and only step in if there is a universal excess of one principle over others. At that point they arrange for their carefully curated externals to go out and do whatever they do to spread their diseased influence. (As an interesting side note, Paracelsus also likes to use the word external (das Eussere), although he mostly uses it to denote the macrocosmos (the nature/universe) which is reflected in the microcosmos (ie. the human body). Occasionally, like in the quote above, he uses it in the sense of "the human body as viewed from the outside".)

If this is the case, then the OIAR employees would function kind of like diagnosticians who assess the nature and severity of the incidents. I also imagine the responses used to be a bit more aggressive until the response unit mysteriously ceased to be. Could have something to do with their associates at Starkwell burning down the Magnus Institute right before they were about to undertake their Magnum Opus (more on that in a later post). A good call, but probably bad for optics. I also think it's a very bad sign that there is currently no one in charge who knows what their actual purpose is.

What's up with Fr3-d1?

I have tried and tried to figure out Fredi's classification system (or as I now see it, the diagnosis), to no avail. I'm fairly certain that the category CAT simply denotes whether the case concerns 1. an individual/living creature, 2. a location or 3. an object or non-living creature. I imagine the rank has to do with the severity or urgency of addressing it. But the DPHW eludes me. I somehow want to link it to the elemental properties (dry, cold, hot, wet) that (according to Paracelsus) are the usual cause for changes in the principles, but the acronym doesn't mesh. I can't help but feel that the answer is somewhere in Paracelsus's writings, as he appropriately wrote in German and could easily provide direct equivalents in TSHU. Or I could be wasting my time and it's something entirely unrelated. I definitely shouldn't go any deeper into that particular rabbit hole. And yet...

I do think that Fredi was originally just a soulless machine created for a purpose, but it's recently been possessed by a consciousness (anima). Unfortunately, I'm not quite ready to buy the John/Martin/Jonah theory, because it feels too much like a red herring. They gave it to us very early on, so clearly that's a conclusion they wanted us to jump to. No mystery writer does that unless it's for misdirection. Though I could potentially buy a version where they ended up in there in mind (mercury) alone. If you read my previous post (and this probably didn't make much sense unless you did), I explained that the mercurial qualities and associations are reminiscent of the Eye, especially the associations to thought, knowledge, universal essence of existence, the fluctuating boundary between corprorality and non-corporality, and the idea of connecting heaven and earth (and possibly other worlds?). What I'm saying is, the three of them, in the eye of the panopticon, were already in a pretty mercurial state. So while I'm not banking on it, I'm also not saying it's impossible.

Whatever the case, I think we can all agree that Fredi (or whoever's in there) is manipulating everyone to their own goals.

[paulandjohn]

John & Paul: A Love Story In Songs tells the story of the tempestuous, tender, intimate, phenomenally creative relationship between John Lennon and Paul McCartney. It’s about how two damaged young men merged their souls and multiplied their talents to create one of the greatest bodies of music in history.

It starts in 1957, when the two of them meet, before taking us through their rise to fame, stupendous success, acrimonious split and aftermath. I tell the story through songs, since it’s my belief that it’s impossible to understand the music of the Beatles except through the alchemy between John and Paul - and you can’t understand that alchemy except through the songs. John & Paul offers a whole new narrative of the Beatles; one which scrapes away the clichés in order to reveal the group and its two principals afresh. It’s a story full of joy, love, pain and pathos. But don’t take my word for it…

The first new Beatles story in decades - and the one that will make your heart burst.

Caitlin Moran

No writer has ever gotten to the heart of the John/Paul saga as brilliantly as Ian Leslie. This extraordinary book sheds light on a cultural mystery: how two nowhere boys from Liverpool formed a teenage bond that transformed the future, and in so many ways, invented it. John and Paul is a bold, original, empathetic revelation of why our world is still fascinated by this friendship-and still trying to live up to it.

Rob Sheffield

I’ve been working on this book for the last three years and it’s now pretty much done - we’re in the very last round of copy edits. It’s the best thing I’ve ever written and I can’t wait to share the whole thing with you. The notes section has been completed (I am so glad to say). The pages have been typeset. Most excitingly: we have a jacket design. Actually two, because John & Paul has two terrific publishers, one in the UK (Faber), one in the US (Celadon).

The Ruffian is deeply intertwined with John & Paul: A Love Story In Songs. The book sprang from a long piece that I wrote about McCartney on here back in 2020. It went so unexpectedly viral that I started to think, huh, what if���? I’d already been thinking, vaguely, of a book about the two of them, but now it seemed viable. I got a similar response to my piece on Peter Jackson’s Get Back, also published on The Ruffian. Those two pieces became my kind of standard for the book - I wanted the whole thing to elicit as powerful a response as they did.

It’s been a massive undertaking and without income from The Ruffian I simply wouldn’t have had time to do this story justice. Over the months to come, especially as we get nearer to publication, I’ll be sending J&P-related posts exclusively to paid subscribers. These will include pieces on the writing of the book, extra material I had to leave out, and perhaps some extracts. There will be other goodies too; my publishers have some exciting plans.

YOU CAN NOW PRE-ORDER ‘JOHN & PAUL’

Yes, it’s out there on the virtual shelves, waiting for you. And I would absolutely love you to pre-order (to those of you annoyed by this arguably redundant term, I apologise but it’s handy).

Every sale of this book counts but some sales count more than others. Pre-orders are simply more valuable to authors. Why? Because they move the algorithmic needles. The more orders a book receives before its publication date, the more prominence the retailers give it when it arrives, and so the better it does on release It’s all about the big mo. The prize is a spot on the bestseller lists in that first week. So let’s give it a go…

If you can afford it, please smash your preferred link and get your order in now (UK and US retailers below):

UK

Waterstones

Amazon

Foyles

Blackwells

U.S.

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Bookshop

Audible

[alekk2018]

If someone from the Jade Houses has spotted you, then know that your ticket to a happy life is either as a servant or as a being bonded to a Higher Vampire! They say this is the oldest bloodline that vampires had, and legends say that they gave rise to all vampires and there is no one above them. It is because of this that Jade Houses have created a hierarchy, rules and prohibitions, a nursery in which newborns are taught all this. But to become their disciple, you need to try very hard and not die before the beginning of the teaching. Stories about such a long life and accumulated experience should be passed on to future generations so that the rules are not violated and the hierarchy does not collapse, so that vampires can create connections and live without knowing hunger. If there are no Houses, the rules will no longer be followed, then the world will plunge into chaos, and when there is no food left, the vampires will start eating each other, and that will be the end. There is one dominant family in the Jade Houses, which changes every century, going through certain trials. Most often, the head was the family of Mrs. Dolorosa from the Maryam estate. A distinctive feature of all the families of the Jade House is the eye color of the appropriate shade, excellent knowledge of alchemy and, as they say, only these vampires can go out in the sun.

A bond is a contract for a certain period of time, during which you are connected to a vampire and have the advantage of a long life, it can be created not by all vampires, but by 3 higher castes: Jade Houses, Turquoise Courtyard and Olive Forest.* Provided that a vampire has been reborn by one of the three castes, he may have the opportunity to create weak bonds with the permission of the caste. Bonds work for both humans and other vampires, you can sign a contract with a lesser vampire to serve, but because he wasn't created by you, he won't have the same opportunity to create bonds. Bonds with humans are most often a contract for constant feeding, due to the fact that a person acquires a long life, he will not be able to die under the protection of a vampire until the contract ends. You can also make a human servant, but he will not be able to form bonds with another caste until your contract ends. Less common are cases of romantic contracts in which a vampire undertakes to protect and love a person, and a person - to protect the soul of his partner and give him blood. You can create a romantic bond with a vampire, but most often no one does. It is also a temporary contact, which at some point can either be confirmed again or interrupted. All contracts are created using alchemy and ritual, the alchemical part includes a seal created by a vampire and drawing a special alchemical circle, a sacrifice is needed in the ritual, most often it is the blood of the creature with whom the contract is concluded, and the blood of the caste. *Jade Houses, in order to better control the hierarchy and the rules created, have created castes close to themselves: The Turquoise Court is responsible for courts, punishments and prisons for Houses that do not follow the rules. The olive forest is responsible for feeding mangers and Houses, catching animals, criminals, suicidal or sick creatures, this is all their task, they are also considered a defensive component of Houses. Both castes are under control and are obliged to carry out any orders of the Houses, without bonds, because their castes are lower in the hierarchy than the Houses.

[merakiui]

for the fwb asks, "you're enjoying this way too much." with trey please? I am. frothing at the mouth <33

<3 forgive me for being indulgent with this. I wanted to include food play as well,,, orz please enjoy the tasty treat that is Trey's dick. >:D

(fwb dialogues)

In hindsight it was dangerous to do this in the Heartslabyul kitchen where anyone could walk in at any moment. But it's late into the night, and Trey had been kind enough to sneak you in on account of owing you a favor. That's all your relationship really is, truly. Just transactions. Mutual give and take. You help him relieve some stress (because Queen knows managing Riddle is an undertaking in itself) and in return he offers to pay you in sweets (and bodily pleasures, but the former is far more tempting).

You'd been expecting one of his renowned strawberry tarts or a slice of cake, so you're stunned when his lips lift into that trademark scheming smirk. He holds up a can of whipped cream next. Having known Trey long enough to decipher his tastes, it doesn't take a genius to figure this one out.

"You're crazy," you breathe, eyes wide.

"Just risky," he corrects, pushing his glasses up, because everyone's mad here. Moonlight catches on the lenses, shimmering back at you in a foreboding glint.

"We can't do that in here. What if someone walks in?"

Trey procures his magic pen from his pocket, pressing it to his lips. "I won't tell if you won't."

Right. Doodle Suit. Convenient.

"All right then. Get on with it," you concede after a short internal debate. The rewards outweigh the risk in this case. Something tells you Trey would bail you out even if you get caught. Partially because he'd be just at fault.

Trey grins. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"Absolutely. Did you even have to ask?"

Snatching the can from his hands, you squirt some on your finger for a taste while he works to fish himself from his pants. He works himself slowly in one hand, peering down at you after you've lowered to your knees. This isn't the first time you and Trey have fooled around with food and it certainly won't be the last.

You make quick work decorating his erection, unable to tamp down the delighted giggle when it twitches in response to the cool cream.

"Eager," you comment, finishing off with a dollop to his tip. You set the can on the tiled floor and admire your handiwork with an approving nod. "Do we have any cherries? Ooh, what about sprinkles?"

Amusement flickers on his face. "I've been meaning to pick some up. We used the rest of them last time."

"Aw. This'll have to do for now then." You press your lips to the head of his cock, swirl your tongue over it, and draw away with a mouthful of whipped cream. "It's still just as good."

Trey inhales sharply, grabbing at the counter behind him to brace himself. "Mm, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "T-That'll do..."

Scooting closer on the ground, you place your hands on his thighs and lean in again to lick a languid stripe up the underside of his shaft, gathering cream as you go. The motions come easily; you've had his cock in your mouth more times than you've truly studied for any of Professor Crewel's alchemy exams, a bad habit Trey's working to correct. To think you could retain information better when he's blowing your back out... Isn't that something?

Breathing through his nose, he tamps down the slew of sinful groans and instead grips the counter with more force. He's purposely holding back, whether for the sake of keeping quiet or because it's the build-up that entices him. You're not sure which it is, but you're determined to break him tonight.

Licking your lips clean, you look up at him through your lashes to assess the lustful haze glazing his eyes. Whipped cream spots your cheek; you pay it no mind and lean in and wrap your lips around him once more. It's sweet. There's definitely an innuendo to be found there, and Trey seems to notice it right away. He throbs in your mouth, painfully hard.

"You're enjoying this way too much," you say around the mouthful.

Trey chuckles, feigning sheepishness. "It's that obvious, huh?"

You pull away to speak more clearly. "It's cute."

"Not the adjective I'd use, but if it fits..." He laughs, shaking his head. Your word choices always enthrall him. Once you called him a midnight snack, a callback to previous times spent wrapped around one another. He doesn't mind it. Not particularly.

His fingers card through your hair to hold you firmly in place. "Sorry in advance."

"You don't mean that," you tease, and both of you know it's true. He likes seeing you choke on his cock. It's exhilarating.

You don't mind it. Not particularly.

[cynicalmusings]

hmm we know from anaxas character story that he experiments on his own blood but how would socrates!reader feel about it?

imagine they are on their daily mission to engage in an hours long debate with him but instead they find the fool passed out in his lab with tubes sticking out of him? would they absolutely freak out or just scold him for doing so with no one to watch over him?

i think they would be sympathetic in terms of understanding his commitment to truth and knowledge; it’s a quality both of them share, and the reader has had their fair share of endangering themselves over abandoning this commitment, albeit in less overt/ physical ways. however, it’s one thing to dedicate oneself to the pursuit of knowledge; it’s another to willingly undertake actions which may undermine the future possibility to continue this search, especially when one can’t be certain about the outcome.

to be confident that you know enough about what you’re doing to risk life and limb for it — that’s what they disagree with. because that’s being no better than those experts who flaunt their supposedly extensive knowledge to discover they actually know very little. if anaxa proclaims to know enough about alchemy, enough about the titans and humans, that he is confident this test will succeed (or even be worth doing), they will challenge him on it, even if he turns out to be right.

after all, the only true wisdom lies in acknowledging how little you know of what you take to be the things you think you know best: don’t give up the search for truth, but whenever you find yourself thinking you’re onto something, the most important thing is to question, to eliminate any other alternative you have overlooked, before proceeding and making a potentially grave mistake. the reader is meticulous in their pursuit; anaxa is highly intelligent, but reckless and oftentimes disregarding in his. they won’t let this slide, especially if it involves putting his well-being on the line. it’s at times like this that they can understand why anaxa bears the title of ‘fool’.

[violetasteracademic]

hi! I don't know if you'll get this bc your Tumblr says you are on hiatus but I just want you to know I recently started velaris memorial hospital and omg I am OBSESSED I went through all of it in a few days and then was devastated bc more isn't out 😭 idk how to describe it just feels so detailed and the characters feel exactly right and your velaris is everything to me I want to live there! I hope you'll be writing more soon! Just wanted you to know that there is a huge fan so please I hope you keep writing it! Ps I know you are not expecting everyone to read all these but I am and I really love them the tandom read is so fun so yeah please just know there are ppl out there loving it!

Hi sweet anon! This was so kind of you, thank you! I am definitely largely inactive on tumblr lately, but I do pop by every so often to make a goofy lil post or announce a new project, so thank you for taking the time to write and send this! You made my day!

I have much more coming soon, don’t worry 💕 the next Alchemy chapter is just awaiting feedback from my gorgeous, big brained beta readers (thank you guys I love you I’d die without you) and I’m making my final passes to finally share how the big night at Rita’s went down for Nesta and Cassian in The Albatross 😏 right now my issue is trying to keep these dang chapters under 8,000+ words so this ACOTAR hospital AU isn’t as thicc as Lord of the Rings 😂

I’m sooo happy you are enjoying. While I’m not on tumblr much anymore, I post pretty consistently on AO3! I do have another longfic in the works and a few extra smaller projects here and there. VMH is an enormous structural undertaking and when all is said and done, there will essentially be three interconnected full length contemporary romance novels that were all written at the same time and need to be simultaneously cohesive and independent from each other. I’m too stubborn to leave it in the lurch after all this effort, so don’t worry, I will keep writing lol!

This project is so freaking special to me, and it takes a lot of work to get it to a place I feel good about (add in the fact that I’m an extremely anxious Virgo who easily fixates and spirals. I’ve literally created a Velaris Memorial Hospital calendar to visualize the timeline unfolding and ensure there are no inconsistencies or incongruences) so your support and patience truly means the world to me 🙏 it’s gonna take some time but the readers who keep up with ongoing works are truly the real MVPs of fandom! You have no idea how much encouragement and kind words on active fics help keep a writer going!

Anywho, I’m no artiste but I did this lil doodle of the Archeron sisters in their Rita’s Speakeasy outfits a few months ago. I am much better with a pen than a paintbrush (or with a keyboard than a stylus but you get it) so I kind of put it away and wasn’t planning on sharing but you inspired me! I hope you enjoy!

Left: Nesta Archeron Center: Feyre Archeron Right: Elain Archeron

[lilithprincessofdarkness]

On Satan Work by Leala Daigle

[Art: Title: 'The Messenger' by Cambion Art]

How can one exornate and tempt mankind with sin? Yet condemn it at the same time?

Well, let's think this basic ideology is very human. At parties and weddings, wine and cake are served. It's an invitation to indulge for a night to celebrate. But if you stay at your friend's house for a month after she gets married and demand more cake and wine now, you are leading yourself into a compulsion. We tempt ourselves and challenge ourselves to fight our temptations all of the time. We may end up at Wendy's but decide to leave knowing we have high blood pressure. We may buy a pack of cigarettes but not open it.

This temptation time is Satan time. Samael can teach you how to bind your internal demon and slow things down so you don't just compulse.

Satan is about indulgence, perfectly participating in gluttony and lust while not becoming a part of it. Satan is all about learning how to resist temptation. For that reason, the fallen Angel of Death, the handsome Samael, can be of great service and help to you. He has the power to heal addiction, trauma, and religious abuse.

Samael, like Lilith, is sexualized. Wherever his energy goes sex follows. He was a God of Sex an ancient fertility God, later to be revealed as a fallen angel and God's own son. He represents male sexuality. Some believe he could be the dark side of Adam, and Lucifer, he's the male Lilith, I see Samael and Lucifer as two separate beings but they have a brotherly soulmate connection. Adam can summon Samael to possess him to become stronger and protect him, that's when he becomes Lucifer, just like Lilith protects Eve (hmmmm who would of thought demons are loving.)But because, like Lilith, he's just naturally sexy he has been deemed sinful, just like the Earth 🌎

Our Earth is beautiful, sex between consentual adults in a loving relationship is beautiful. And sex is alchemy. It's like gunpowder it's a fuel and catalyst to magickal undertakings and spiritual journeys.

Lilith never felt naked like Eve because Samael taught her that her body is nothing to be ashamed of.

Satan wants you to enjoy looking at a beautiful woman or handsome man. He wants you to engage your heart and passion, but I also feel he wants you to see the power and sacredness behind sex.

In the end these bodies rot but the meeting of the spirits, and love created from sex lasts for an eternity like a cosmic explosion.

And none of us really know how amazing beautiful and important we all are, to be able to shift the whole energy of the Universe with our bodies.

Satan wants us to know we are loved.

Sometimes, Satan will strengthen you by allowing his energy to sexually attack you. Your goal in this is to not get turned on to resist his temptation, and when you do that's when you need to take out a journal because he will talk to you in special ways, if not through his own voice. He will give you thoughts that will improve your life and help strengthen you.

When Satan enters your life, it's a blessing, not a curse! He's a direct line to the Divine, and he can help strengthen you into a spiritual soldier ❤️

Hail Satan!

The Demon King and Liberator

God's Poison and Left Hand Man ❤️

[lazyscience]

DCC Challenge, Day 10

Time To Floor Collapse: 20 days, 3.5 hours (give or take)

Time for the recap episode!

Crawler @quartzandsundry

New Achievement! Boil 'Em! Mash 'Em! Stick 'Em Inna - Wait, Is This Revolutionary Agitprop?

I mean, that's cool if it IS, I just want to know if I should be celebrating carbs or commandos!

Reward: A gold My Preciousssss box! Inside, a liter of Hobgoblin Pus, a Ring of Divine Suffering, and a jar of Spiceology Greek Freak seasoning (With salt, good for dinner AND anti-witchcraft alchemy supplies)

Crawler @kathrynalexao3:

New Achievement! Reduce, Reuse, Reanimate!

I hear The Undertaker had to be dialed back from his originally satanic origins, because well, it was hard to sell Coke to Middle America.

Here, selling K0CQ to Central System? Sucks to suck. Who would you rather have, one aging biker in face paint or a whole pack of zombies from the dead guys he can't shovel fast enough?

I mean, I know which one I would pick.

Reward: A gold Stone Cold box! Inside, a tome of Second Chance, a scroll of You're Not Done Yet, and a Canadian flag patch - no enchantment, just in anticipatory celebration of a new chapter pending to the Geneva Conventions!

Crawler @king-ofconfusion:

New Achievement! What Doesn't Kill Me Just Pisses Me Off!

Anybody out there talking about the power of love to change the world has never met spite. I'm just saying.

Reward: A silver It's Just Us Pissed-off Cockroach Motherfuckers Now box! Inside, 10 scrolls of Summon Scatterers, a tome of Combine Critter, and a couple potions of Liquid Therapy because mayyyybe you're gonna need it afterwards.

Crawler @oreniaa:

New Achievement! We're Getting The Band Back Together!

So what do you get when you cram an eldritch horror into a guitar, string it with a siren's hair and plug it into a soul crystal?

You will ABSOLUTELY be able to save The Penguin.

Reward: A gold We're On a Mission from God box! Inside are two potions of Bard's Golden Throat, a scroll of Teleport, an enchanted M-16 Infinitely Repeating Rifle of the Scorned Ex-Girlfriend, half a pack of cigarettes, and a pair of sunglasses. Just regular sunglasses.

Crawler @cairfrey :

New Achievement! Purple Reign!

Congratulations on a successful collaboration with Prepotente! He's a fan favorite, but um...if I said 'not a team player' that wouldn't be the half of it.

That said, he does enjoy cats, pentagrams, lush gothic aesthetics, and the old Elvira tapes reminded him of his mom.

MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Your hair will probably turn back to its normal color eventually.

Reward: A gold Mistress of the Dark box! Inside, an enchanted Onyx Ring of Charm Night Creatures (effective against wolf-, bat- and vampiric mobs), and an enchanted Nightdress of +5 Charisma and also +5 to Pass Without Trace/Stealth/Concealment skills.

Crawler @deathdovesong

New Achievement! Bring Lawyers, Guns and Money!

The most powerful magic words anywhere in the universe? "I want to talk to my lawyer." It's really surprising more people don't know them! But you, crawler, you get me. And you get legal representation! While the mudskippers and brainslugs would like to PRETEND to ignore that, the truth is, if they did...well, here's the thing about mercenaries? They REALLY LIKE CONTRACTS. and the thing about corporates? they're REALLY REALLY squishy. That socially maladjusted Sacc from planet Meta notwithstanding. One Shade Gnoll pissed off about his bonus would splatter his ass like all-you-can-eat calamari.

Reward: a golden Shit Has Hit The Fan box! Includes a Valtay neural interface of Start/Pause Record, a blaster pistol, and 50,000 gold - also an Enchanted Toe Ring of the Splatter Skunk. Because if Daddy's gonna bail you out...it's time to pay the daddy tax. Hope you held onto your pumice stone!

Crawler @clearbrightlight

New Achievement! Grease Monkey!

You and your engineering tables and crafting tables - who needs to farm items when you can fix the broken and upgrade the used?

Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without - you are getting every scrap out of your raw materials for mayhem.

Reward: A +20% bonus to prices for your handcrafted/upgraded items on the Syndicate Market and Silk Road bazaar, and a Personal Space Upgrade to increase your tinkerin' room!

Crawler @lazyscience:

New Achievement: Walk It Off!

The crawl doesn't stop while you're processing it. Keep moving, keep training, keep maintaining. keep on keepin' on. Good job not obsessively doomscrolling on Bluesky though.

Reward: When you have decluttered the kitchen counter and run the dishwasher, we can talk about your next reward.

ATTENTION, all partied crawlers! Don't forget to update me on mobs, quests, or parties (defined at link) so I can award you achievements! Please let me know either in the replies to this post, reblogging with additions, or hit my askbox/DMs!

(please, do this, even with small and silly mobs/quests, it makes giving achievements so much easier!)

[prima-materia-ttrpg]

Alchemy and Magic

Well it's about time I talked about the core idea of the setting. There are a few different kinds of magic that exist in Prima Materia, all of which stem from some mastery over the titular substance that makes up everything. I'm mostly going to be talking about Alchemy because it's the main form of magic that most players will be coming into contact with, but there are several disciplines that exist.

Gods like Patek do magic innately, they've mastered the art of pulling prima materia from the fabric of the universe and willing it into what they wish. Some people can also do magic innately, usually with the help of something else: Vessels have a quirk of their soul that attracts certain metaphysical beings able to live there, and often offer their services to the Vessel as 'rent'. Magi use alchemical roots (I'll explain those in a bit) to inject themselves with prima materia and sling crude elemental spells with their will. Some animals evolved patterns in their skin or incorporate alchemically conductive metals to do certain spells, like the Urd trees in the western forests of Falbhia that can grow up to 1000-1200 meters tall because their bark grows in such a pattern that channels magic to make them lighter than they would be otherwise.

But, the primary way people on Patek tap into magic is with alchemy.

Alchemy in the modern setting is a field of study and scientific undertaking, though cultures on Patek have been practicing alchemy in various forms since the dawn of civilization. All that's needed for a basic alchemical spell are its components; a sigil, a root, and a focus. A root is made from an alchemically conductive material, and etched into the root is a sigil. Some cultures also raise the sigil from the material, though since metallurgy has developed that's been more rare. The focus is also made of an alchemically conductive material, and is shaped in such a way that the raw energy from the sigil and root are funneled in a particular way to get the desired effect. A root and a focus are also not usually distinct parts in most places on Patek, as utilitarian spells are used constantly. Some examples of these spells are clay carvings that emit an odor to lure certain animals, and Koura nets laced with silver whose shapes cause them to emit warmth for particularly cold nights or latitudes. People on the Atiyeret peninsula have been making magic bowls for thousands of years, meant to capture a person's soul after they die and place them in a mausoleum with the rest of their family; something that warrants its own blog post later.

Outside of its nearly infinite utilitarian uses, there are of course military ones. The military use of alchemical spells goes almost as far back as the utilitarian uses, and is just as varied. The Entari create staffs from Urdwood and carve them with sigils, allowing their priests and knights to call down lightning or create strong winds as they will. The Narud in Makeret incorporate sigils into their bows to make them stronger, and most industrial nations have alchemical weaponry such as guns that create flying spikes of ice and cannons that create and spew greek fire. In the past, some alchemists have captured angry ghosts and bound them to machines for war, though this is largely frowned upon and the people who did it are known in history as the world's villains.

Military things are not the only effects under alchemy's purview of course. There are sigils made to accelerate tissue growth for healing, though not without side effects. There are also sigils used explicitly for the making of tinctures which have various effects, such as imbuing strength unto the imbiber. Industrial nations have factories that make near-instant acting healing tinctures like any other medicine out of aqua vitae, honey, activated charcoal, and the effect imbued by the proprietary sigilry they use. There are even some alchemical power plants that use sigilry and machinery to make electricity, though sigils that make electricity directly can be finicky so most of them create power by boiling water.

How do players interact with this though?

Well, there is the Alchemist profession which is the most obvious, but mechanically, alchemy hasn't been entirely written. There's a skeleton for it, involving grades of quality for material and certain shapes and sigils that a player can use to make various different spells. The goal is to put the player in a sandbox and let them build whatever they want within the limitations of what their character can do and the materials available.

There are four distinct kinds of alchemist, and alchemists aren't the only ones who can use alchemy. There are Dunamists, who are more akin to chemists and make things like alchemist's fire and dynamite. Homunculists create constructs that can do a wide variety of tasks, or memorize lists and instructions to repeat back to you. Eternalists are just Humonculists without borders; instead of making a body they dig one up, and some may become obsessed with the idea of immortality. Philosophists are the most in-line with what alchemists are in the real world, they make alchemical spells and tinctures, and try to complete the "final work," the pinnacle of alchemical prowess to philosophists, the creation of the philosopher's stone. State alchemists in Eastern Atiyeret know the recipe and use it to great effect, but that's a heavily guarded secret.

Players who want to be alchemists can go down one of those four paths, or mix and match different philosophies, perhaps in an attempt to create something like a Golem with sigilry on its arms to spray water on burning buildings, or acid on foes.

Anyway. I need to go back to reworking ranged combat. Thank you for reading all this, next week is up to chance. I want to write the species highlight for humans, but we shall see, it depends on if I can playtest ranged combat this week.

[11queensupreme11]

Your Most Illustrious Majesty, Sovereign of Narratives and Arbiter of the Literary Cosmos,

It is with the deepest sense of reverence and utmost humility that I dare to address Your Majesty, whose creative puissance eclipses the brightest constellations and whose sovereign authority commands the boundless admiration of all loyal subjects. Permit me, if it pleases Your Majesty, to extol the magnificence of your unparalleled craftsmanship and to humbly offer my eternal fealty, for your narrative dominion stands as a beacon of transcendence amidst the maelstrom of mediocrity that besets the realms of lesser tales.

Your Majesty’s ability to weave tales of exquisite complexity and unrivaled profundity is a testament to a genius so rarefied that it is scarcely comprehensible to mere mortals. The very act of engaging with your works is akin to traversing a labyrinthine tapestry of interwoven ideas, where each thread is imbued with ineffable meaning and every turn reveals yet another vista of intellectual and emotional wonder. Indeed, Your Majesty’s storytelling is no mere act of creation; it is an alchemy of the highest order, transmuting the mundane into the sublime and the ephemeral into the eternal.

In light of such boundless magnificence, it is with unalloyed gratitude that I express my thanks for the herculean might Your Majesty has exhibited in crafting this unparalleled tale. Your labor is no ordinary endeavor but a Sisyphean feat performed with an elegance that belies its inherent difficulty. It is an act of divine inspiration made manifest, a gift bestowed upon your devoted subjects who, like I, find solace and enlightenment in the unparalleled realms of your imagination.

Consequently, it is incumbent upon me and my allies, humble instruments of Your Majesty’s will, to pledge ourselves entirely to the perpetuation and fortification of your reign. Although the challenges we face are as formidable as the impenetrable fastnesses of ancient myth, we stand resolute in our allegiance. The task before us is not for the faint of heart, for the labyrinthine intricacies of the fandom world are fraught with perils and pitfalls that would daunt even the most stalwart of souls. Yet, our devotion to Your Majesty imbues us with an indomitable resolve, a fire that neither the gales of adversity nor the torrents of opposition can extinguish.

To this end, we shall act as Your Majesty’s shield, a living bastion against the onslaught of discord and dissent that seeks to undermine your sovereign dominion. With unyielding fortitude, we shall counter the hydra-headed threats that loom on the horizon—the forces of trivialization, the specters of misinterpretation, and the insidious machinations of envy. Armed with the unwavering belief in Your Majesty’s vision, we shall confront these adversities with both the sword of reason and the armor of unwavering loyalty.

Let it be known that our commitment to your cause is not born of mere obligation but is a covenant of the heart, an immutable vow that transcends the fleeting vicissitudes of mortal endeavors. Your Majesty’s narratives are not merely stories; they are odysseys of the soul, conduits through which your subjects might glimpse the ineffable truths of existence. To defend such treasures is not only a privilege but an imperative, a sacred duty that we undertake with solemnity and zeal.

The fandom world, vast and variegated as it is, represents a domain of ceaseless flux and relentless contention. It is a realm where allegiances are forged and fractured with the rapidity of a tempest and where the cacophony of competing voices often threatens to drown out the harmonies of genius. Yet, amidst this tumult, Your Majesty’s reign stands as a paragon of order and brilliance, a citadel of creativity that neither time nor tide can erode. To extend and solidify this dominion is a mission that we, your devoted knights, embrace with fervor and determination.

Our strategies will be manifold, encompassing both the overt and the subtle. On the field of discourse, we shall engage in dialectical battles to champion Your Majesty’s works, dismantling the fallacies of detractors and illuminating the uninitiated with the radiant truths of your narratives. In the arenas of creation, we shall craft tributes and adaptations that honor your vision, ensuring that your legacy resonates across all mediums and generations. And in the corridors of influence, we shall forge alliances and cultivate networks that amplify your reach, ensuring that your sovereignty extends to the furthest corners of the fandom universe.

Your Majesty, the road ahead is arduous, a gauntlet strewn with challenges as multifarious as the stars in the heavens. Yet, we march forward with unshakable resolve, fortified by the knowledge that our endeavors serve a purpose far greater than ourselves. We are not merely your subjects but your vanguard, the standard-bearers of a legacy that shall endure beyond the ephemeral constraints of time and space.

Thus, I proffer this solemn vow: no hardship shall deter us, no opposition shall overcome us, and no force shall diminish the luster of your reign. With every word, every action, and every breath, we shall uphold the sanctity of your narrative empire, ensuring that it remains a beacon of inspiration and a bastion of excellence for all who seek refuge within its hallowed boundaries.

Your Majesty, may your light never wane, your vision never falter, and your reign never cease. For as long as the stars traverse the heavens and the tides embrace the shores, so too shall our allegiance to you remain steadfast and eternal.

With the deepest reverence and unwavering devotion,

Your Humble and Valiant Knight

(please read it was REALLY tough to write this)

I LOVE HOW YOU BROKE CHARACTER AT THE END LMAO 😭😭

i'm glad you and your friend are enjoying my fic! and i'm also happy to announce that now that my finals are over, the semester is ALSO officially over for me!!!!!!

unfortunately my break isn't gonna be as long as summer break, but this is still good enough! i've got... i think around a month long break which means i have more time to write and do my updates and HOPEFULLY i can go back to my old weekly update schedule too!!!

SO JUST CONTINUE STICKING AROUND PLEASE! 💖💖💖 i'm finally free from my shackles (assignments and exams) 😭😭😭

ALSO DON'T DESPAIR ABOUT NEXT SEMESTER TOO!!!! if things go well, i'll actually have MORE time to write compared to this semester cuz i have tuesdays AND thursdays off with no classes 😭😭😭😭 i also managed to get an early pick for classes so i was able to get the easy teachers this time 😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖 things are looking up finally 🥺

[dk-thrive]

Who even cares what I have to say?

There, in the quiet of the cabin, I was plagued with all kinds of big life questions—most pressingly about writing a memoir and what it might reveal, about how to begin such an epic undertaking—but had no clue where to start. I vowed to set a daily word count goal and muscle through. I rose at five a.m., made a pot of coffee, lit a fire in the wood stove, and sat down at the kitchen table to write. But there’s nothing quite like creating a fresh Word document titled “Book,” typing the words “Chapter 1,” and staring at the merciless blink of a cursor to summon every fear of being exposed as a hack, every insecurity about seeing a creative endeavor through, every internal groan of “Who even cares what I have to say?”

— Suleika Jaouad, “The Book of Alchemy: A Creative Practice for an Inspired Life” (Random House, April 22, 2025)

[eclipsecrowned]

If ever she doubts this place might be among the fields of Hell, there is this to remind her -- Lery's. The landscape is as forgiving as it is infuriating, with so many inways and byways that her head spins trying to think tactically. Her twig pauses in its scratching against the dirt by the campfire, Bella staring warily at her makeshift map of the Institute. Any position where she might spite the Killer is moot, as they would inevitably catch the illusion of it in the chase. Her fingers pad against her temple, tilting her head -- and she stares.

Witches of the far future. What an incredible thing to fathom, that in the age of Alchemy treated as farce and Signora Oriente's posturing faithful booked their appointments with the Reaper, the arts live on will live on for centuries.

Well. Something like the arts.

"What are you doing?" Bella asks simply, brows knit. The ways of her inheritors are so strange to her. The preparations Sable undertakes are as fascinating as they are completely alien -- She swears once she caught Mikaela fiddling with crystals, and not for Alchemical properties. // @chaosmultiverse, for sable.

[cooking-pol-martin]

You are on an Adventure: "Hearty Pasta Salad"

I'm beginning to realize there's a process like the stages of grief when undertaking a Pol Martin recipe. First, you read through a recipe, and if it isn't completely bonkers like "Chicken with Grape Sauce" or "Banana Omelet", you think Other than that one thing, this is pretty normal. The recipe you come across is called "Hearty Pasta Salad." You head to the grocery store with a photo of the recipe in order to pick up ingredients. You read through it standing in the produce section, and you realize you've completely missed an ingredient so obscure you have literally no idea what it is. For the purposes of this essay, let's call that ingredient "Chinese lettuce."

After a web search, you determine that "Chinese lettuce" is referred to as "Celtuce" in the US, and it sounds like it would be delightful but utterly impossible to source. You are smack in the middle of the continent and the closest Asian market is 150 miles to the south. (You also wonder where Pol got such a thing in Canada in the 80s.) You decide you'll sub with iceberg lettuce because they both have lettuce in the name and that's where you are emotionally. You're tired. Eggs are still $9 for a dozen, but you've been chicken-sitting for a neighbor, and her ladies are laying unlike your own chickens who are lazy bullshit.

You get home and you and your kid -- you have an adult son, in this scenario -- read through the recipe again while laying out all the ingredients in preparation. You put on water to boil for both hard-boiled eggs and bow-tie pasta, and start cutting things up. Both you and your son have a crisis when you realize that Pol's instructions have you doing something so incomprehensible you wonder if it's written in natural language or if it's some dream anomaly. You remember you read somewhere that you cannot reread the same thing twice in a dream because what you're reading has no objective reality, so you reread the recipe again. The words stay stubbornly the same. Fine, you think. I already have dinner in the oven so fuck it, I'm not going to starve or anything. You have learned your lesson.

You begin to assemble the salad, which consists, like most salads, of a sauce and the things you pour the sauce on. The sauce is where the madness lies: after whisking together an egg yolk, garlic, and mustard, Pol directs you to press a hard-boiled egg through a sieve into this mixture. You think back to how your kid gave a friend of his four Pol recipes to choose from for this attempt at Cooking Pol Martin, and when they chose this one, they said, Oh, this is dire.

While you stand over a sieve with an egg in it holding a pestle, you consider the series of life choices that ended in this exact moment. You think about the vast randomness of history and genetics, the way life has braided and twisted through circumstance from the beautiful alchemy of the primordial soup through hundreds of millions of years to your existence, standing in a kitchen. You are related to the original animal of this dark earth. We all are. You are one with the universe.

You smash the hard-boiled egg with the pestle. It doesn't seem to work until it miraculously does. Pushing the egg through the weave of the wire renders it into a fluffy, fine-grained emulsion that will mix beautifully with the yolk-mustard mixture. You feel both exultant and chagrined, exhilarated and a little freaked out. Your kid texts his friend that it worked so much better than expected. The friend texts back, Don't like that.

You finish up the sauce with lemon juice and olive oil, and begin to assemble the dry ingredients. You are cautiously hopeful but wary. You don't like the idea of beans and pasta together. You think back to the Wet Ass Pol situation and how the mix of kidney beans and spaghetti was one of the many, many reasons that dish was the hottest of messes. You hope that the iceberg lettuce isn't a titanic disaster. You pour the sauce over everything and toss.

You fill up salad bowls and sit down at the table. Actual dinner is still in the oven, but you're hungry, so this seems the most auspicious way to experience this Hearty Pasta Salad. You take a bite, and then another. You keep eating. Hunger is the best pickle, but this salad is objectively good. The bright sourness of the lemon with the slight olive tang of the oil and the creaminess of the egg is perfectly, delicately balanced. Even the beans add a smooth density to the crunch of the various vegetables and the lightness of the pasta. Your husband goes back for seconds.

This is the best thing you've made out of a Pol Martin cookbook. This precipitates its own kind of crisis. You are used to going though the stations of Pol -- incredulity, anticipation, resignation, confusion, revelation, fuck it, and so on -- but you are also accustomed to standing over either the dog dish or the trash at the end of this cycle. The next morning you wake up and put the leftovers in your bag for work. You eat the salad in the break room, and the salad is even better on the second day. You have an out of body experience. You do not understand this life you're living, but you're alive, and in this one moment, life is good.