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arclundarchivist · 3 years

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Home, Again.

(Spoilers from Campaign 2 Episode 141, it has been a lovely ride, and I will admit, this mostly going to be me getting a bit into my own personal fantasy, but I hope it is enjoyed.)

Caleb, a little grayer in his hair, stands on the beach staring out into the ocean, a wide smile on his face as he turns and sees several small forms racing about, clashing fake swords, delving into the water cautiously, or just doing what children are want to do. Veth's little "camp" had picked up steam, numerous children from across the breadth of Nicodranus coming to learn how to be, well, how to play at being adventurers. He'd managed to take a bit of time off from the academy, nervous still about the prospect but...he'd been drawn away for an excellent reason.

His family.

Nine years had passed since their battle in Cognouza. Nine years since they had become the unsung, though oft whispered. heroes of all of Exandria.

He'd seen them all from time to time across the years, coming together for birthdays and moments of joy and surprise, but now, was a time for true celebration.

He turns and spots Veth and Yeza, standing shoulder to shoulder nearby, watching the waves roll in, hunting perhaps like he was, for the behemoth that was the Nine Heroez to pull into port. On Veth's hip is a little girl, with a mane of curled, wild hair much like her father with a deeper skin tone like her mother: Molly.

Veth turns and looks up at him, "Do you seem anything?"

"Not yet, but they'll be here. I can't imagine they'd miss this for the world." Caleb responds, squeezing her shoulder before reaching down, letting the gently cooing Molly take his finger and squeeze.

He turns and looks back, spotting several other figures arrayed across the beach that he had reached out to in the planning of this event.

Shakaste is perched on a rock, telling a soothing story to an enraptured crowd of kids, which included Luc, and to his amusement Twiggy, who had arrived at the party seemingly out of the blue.

Running towards him, chased by her youngest adoptive siblings is Kiri. Veth invited her family to partake of Nicodranus and allow the kids a bit of fun during the summer months.

Kiri skids to a halt kicking up sand, standing almost to his chest now, several makeshift bandoleers and her collection of tinkered baubles resting on her chest and along her belt. She smiles up at him widely, chirping excitedly.

"Come on! Beau, Yasha! She's probably a good egg!" Kiri warbles, mimicking several voices she'd heard, tugging on his and Veth's hands.

Laughing, Veth passes Molly to her husband, and the pair allow Kiri to drag them all the way to the edge of the beach, where Beau and Yasha are approaching. They both look a bit older but more at peace, Yasha dressed in dark but less severe clothing, hints of Dynasty garb on the both of them. He also notices two figures walking a step behind them, looking a bit shy.

"I missed you!" Kiri crows, darting for the pair and hugging tight to their legs.

"Hey, Kiri," Beau says with a soft smile.

"Hello, Little Bird," Yasha says, giving Kiri a head scritch.

She coos cheerfully before darting back up onto her perch and scanning for signs of the others.

Beau looks at Caleb and wraps him in a tight hug, "Hey, Professor."

"Expositor," Caleb mutters, wrapping his arms around her and then doing the same to Yasha, who practically picks him up off his feet.

Beau kneels and hugs Veth, whispering, "Chaos Crew!"

"Almost." Veth states, "Hopefully, she'll be here soon."

Caleb looks past his dear friends and blinks in surprise as he spots Beauregard's Mother and younger brother TJ.

"Oh, uh, hello, thank you for coming." Caleb mutters, rubbing the back of his head, "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Caleb Widoghast."

Veth narrows her eyes slightly at Beau's mother: "Veth Brenatto."

"Clara, I do remember you," she remarks, nodding to them both briefly.

"Good, because I-" Veth begins only for Beau to place a hand on her shoulder.

"Down, Veth," Beau remarks, earning a chuckle from Yasha.

"Fine," she remarks, still giving Beau's mother a bit of a stink eye.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. There is some food and drink nearby, and blankets to spread out as you wish," Caleb states.

"Thank you," Clara says, turning to leave the four of them while TJ hangs back next to his sister, looking up at her uncertainly.

"Go have fun." Beau says, pointing to Luc and Kiri, "Those are the other kids I was telling you about, just don't get into too much trouble, okay?"

TJ gives her a shy grin, "No promises."

And then runs off, Caleb noticing the small sticks that he wears across his back.

"A chip off the old block, eh?" Caleb asks as Beau throws an arm around him.

"Not exactly, way more shy!" Beau states, looping her arm around Yasha's as Veth grabs his hand, "Four of the Nine, any words on the others?"

"Not yet, but they'll come," Caleb says.

"Good, I brought you all flowers from our garden." Yasha states, holding up a new book, filled to the brim with dried flowers, "You both look very good."

Veth smiles: "I'm with my family, and even more are on the way; I'm wonderful."

Caleb nods: "It will be good to see everyone again."

"Speaking of everyone," Beau states, unlooping her arms from her partner and friend, "Yo, Shakaste! I think it's past time you and I compared notes on some things."

Shakaste turns from his story to Luc and the other kids, the former getting dragged away by Kiri for a conversation with TJ, while Twiggy looks around him and her face widens in a deep grin.

"I mean, I agree, but I thought this was gonna be a day of fun, not work?" Shakaste remarks with a knowing smirk.

"I can do both," Beau says with a shrug of her shoulders as she walks towards them.

"I have notes too!" Twiggy cries, darting towards Beau and beginning to ramble, while Yasha turns and walks towards Yeza, the pair beginning a softer conversation as Yasha, ever so gently gives her hand out for Molly to play with.

Caleb and Veth end up sitting shoulder to shoulder on the beach, waiting and watching as their friends and number of children mill about them and are deep in conversation, when the sound of a firework going off draws all of their attention.

There is a collective jump amongst the party, the more martial figures immediately going on the defensive, with Yasha pushing Yeza behind her only for it to be quickly revealed to be Kiri once more, tearing away from Luc and TJ, now shouting.

"Jester! Jester! I missed you!"

Not a moment later, Twiggy is peeling off as well, with Veth, Caleb, Beau, and Yasha at a more sedentary step behind as approaching them arm in arm is Fjord and Jester, wide smiles on their face, Nugget loping ahead of them and teleport tackling Luc, who falls with a laugh as the dog begins licking his face.

Behind them, walking arm and arm is The Gentleman and Marion, followed by Orly and Vandren, and next to them, to Caleb's surprise, is Caliana.

"Kiri!" Jester cries out, sliding to her knees and wrapping the young Kenku in the tightest hug and spinning her about, revealing the swaddled bundle on her back which giggles in surprise at the momentum.

"And Twiggy!" Jester cries, drawing the gnome into a tight hug as well before ping-ponging to her friend with deep, tearful hugs and cheek kisses, going from Veth to Yasha, to Beau, and then to Caleb.

"Veth, so, about the Detective Agency...I'm sorry that I've been so busy...but." Jester began as she hugs her.

"Don't worry, Jessie, I'm glad you're here," Veth says, hugging her tightly.

"Yasha, my god, you look so beautiful! I missed you so much!" Jester cries, running her fingers through flower-filled hair.

"Thank you, Jester, I missed you too." Yasha states with a soft smile as she looks down over Jester's shoulder into the teal face of a small Tiefling toddler, the hint of a tusk coming in on the left-hand side, "And this little joy."

She tickles the bottom of his chin, eliciting a laugh, a smile widening on her face: "Hi, Charlie."

"Beau!" Jester cries, pulling her into a bone-cracking hug.

"Hey, Cutie." Beau returns, hugging her back and patting her cheek.

Jester giggles and then turns to hug Caleb, a soft but deep embrace, "You look very happy, Caleb."

Caleb whispers back, "I am happy. So very, very happy."

Fjord walks up next, looking down at Veth: "Veth."

Veth looks up at him with narrowed eyes, "Fjord."

They stare at each other for a moment before wrapping each other in a hug, "You look good, Fjord."

"I feel it." he returns, "And so do you."

Yasha and Fjord clap hands together with a smile while Beau comes in on the other side and punches him playfully on the shoulder.

"You know neither of those hurt as much as they used to." Fjord states with a grin.

"Good, where's Kingsley?" Yasha asks.

"Well wouldn't you know it...the tricky bastard went off and made himself into a pirate." Fjord said with a laugh, "I...I don't know if he'll be here."

Yasha looks down a bit crestfallen, "Oh."

"This does mean, though, that I need my old first mate back if she has an inkling to come to sea, just for a bit." Fjord said with a slight smile, looking to Beau.

Beau smiles and shares a look at Yasha, who shrugs but smiles softly. "Maybe, maybe."

"Nice to see you again, Caleb," Fjord says, pulling him into a hug.

"Nice to see you too, Fjord," Caleb says.

"Gangs almost all here; it's been quite a while, hasn't it," Fjord says.

"It has." Caleb agrees as he watches Jester place her son into the arms of her mother and then scoops up Kiri and twirls around with a laugh.

"Mighty fine to see all of you again, ain't that right, Miss," Orly says, nodding to each of them and nudging Caliana.

"OH! Yes, of course. Hello, again, Mr. Caleb, Beau, Yasha," Caliana states, with a nervous bow before looking at Veth and opening her mouth a bit awkwardly.

"It's Veth; good to see you again, Miss." Veth says with a smile, "How have you been?"

"Well, I..." Caliana begins, blushing slightly, only for Jester to spin by interrupting.

"We found her when we stopped her in Port Demali! Kingsley did actually, and then we caught up, and Fjord managed to convince her to join our crew, and she has been very helpful with the magic things at times like you were Caleb, and sometimes she scares the living daylights out of people that try and steal from us!"

Calianna blushes deeper, "I don't mean to."

"She's a good crewmate, and a good friend, speaking of which." Fjord says, turning to the older man beside him, "Vandren, this is my family, not everyone, but most."

Vandren gives them all a once over, "Eclectic group. Makes sense. Nice to meet you. Any drink to be found?"

"Yes, right over there," Caleb says, pointing towards a large picnic table.

"Right, Orly, let's get to it," Vandren says, clapping Fjord on the shoulder and heading over, followed by The Gentleman, who gives each of them a respectful nod, kissing his daughter on the cheek as he passes.

Marion smiles at them all, "I'm glad to see you all healthy and hale. You've all had quite the journey."

The assembled Nein shared a look, "That we have."

Jester smirks and then speaks up, "Speaking of which..."

She enters into a tirade of her and Fjord's most recent adventurer's interrupted at times by Fjord and a more tentative Caliana, while the others listen, sitting down as the sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, Veth's students heading for home, leaving the children adjoined to the party alone to chase each other, play fight, and ride about on Nugget. Charlie spends much of the time in his Mother or Father's lap, occasionally being passed to Yasha, who at one point ends up holding him and Molly in a moment of what Caleb could only describe as awed bliss, as their respective parents got drawn away by something.

A while later, Luc turns to trying to entertain them, showing off the few cantrips he'd learned to the other kids, including the assembled Shusters, and TJ. Kiri makes a game of picking at him after a bit.

As he begins talking about how strong he will be, Kiri walks up and pokes her beak directly into his ear.

"Kiri! Don't embarrass me in front of my apprentices!" he cries with a bit of a blush as Kiri made a joking kissing sound, gesturing to Molly and Charlie who stared at the pair in the muddled, joyful confusion that is Toddlerhood as they rest on their respective parent's laps.

"I don't think a little peck is all that embarrassing." a low voice states, drawing the assembled Nein's attention to a tall figure, his staff glowing a low pink, a wide smile on his face as Caduceus Clay approaches with several others in tow.

"Sorry, I'm late," Cad says, not even pausing as an elated Luc races for him and jumps into his arms, "I had a few friends to pick up."

Calliope waves, "I'm just his tagalong."

Behind her stands Nila and her son, Keg, quickly dashing out a cigarette and looking more than a little awkward, with Reani at her shoulder.

"Hello again," Nila states with a soft smile as the other curious youngsters readily approach her son.

"Long time no see, heard y'all did some really good work." Keg states with a smirk, sharing a look with Beau, walking over, and hugging Veth.

Reani darts over to Jester, wrapping her in a hug, then several of the others, cooing over the babies for a second before tackle-hugging Beau and then Caleb.

"Hey, Reani," Beau says, looking a little awkward but still happy to see her.

"Hey guys, also thank you, Caleb, for sending him my way."

"Him?" Caleb queries, a bit confused.

Clay walks up, hugging Fjord deeply, and then Jester and Yasha: "God, it's good to see you all again, but as I said, I had some friends to pick up."

And out of the shadows, melting into view with a soft yet nervous smile on his face, comes Essek Theylas.

"Hello everyone." he states, eliciting a few gasps and a tackle hug from Jester, "And let's just say Reani, and I have been working on...seeing all the colors and shades as it were."

He gives Beau a pointed nod.

Reani smiles, "He's a sweetheart."

Caleb gets to his feet, walking over to Essek with a cautious smile, "Welcome back to the Mighty Nein."

"Glad to be back...if just for a little while, it will be good, to..." he pauses, looking deeply into Caleb's eyes, "Take a bit more time with you."

As Jester lets him go, Essek slowly glides towards Caleb, and he feels their fingers intertwine, a soft smile growing on both their faces.

He turns and notices a few smirking faces amongst his friends, while the adjoining members are beginning to shuffle about and begin conversing, Reani and Twiggy hitting it off like an unending wildfire, while Keg mills about before choosing to sidle up to Caliana and begin asking her questions, Shakaste sits down next to Caduceus and begins to query him on how everything is going in his neck of the woods.

Fjord looks around at his family as several fires roar up around them. TJ, Kiri, Luc, the Schusters, and Asar are sitting around their own cooking marshmallows, watched by Clara, who has found herself the subject of affection for Nugget, his large head now splaying across her lap. Jester is sitting between Fjord and her Mother, Charlie asleep on her lap, head on her mother's shoulder, with her and Fjord holding hands. Beau is leaning against Yasha, next to Yeza, holding Molly while Veth sat between him and Caleb, with Esseek on his other side, their fingers just the faintest bit intertwined. A bit back from the fire, behind Fjord and Jester, Nila, Cad, and his sister are leaning forward, Cad's hand resting on Fjord's shoulder. Calianna sits next to Fjord, while Reani and Twiggy sit across the fire from Yasha and Beau. Vandren, The Gentleman, and Keg are deep in conversation at the nearby picnic table while Shakaste and Orly are seated between the Nein's fire and the kids, the former humming along as the latter plays some softer music.

"Gangs all here finally." Fjord remarks, "And on a beautiful night too."

"Well...almost all of them are here," Yasha states, somewhat sadly.

"No, everyone." a familiar voice states, as coming across the sands is Kingsley Tealeaf, with Marius in tow.

"Hi there, Angel, there was no way I was missing this party, especially since Joybuzzer reminded me every day about it," Kingsley states, kissing the top of Yasha's head as he walks by, doing the same to Jester and then clapping Fjord on the back and gently hugging Caliana as she scoots over.

"You too?" Essek asks with a knowing smile.

"So it would seem." Kingsley returns as Marius walks by, headed for Orly.

"Kill anyone yet?" Fjord calls out after him.

"No, Captain." Marius returns with a sheepish grin.

"Pity, good to see you still breathing, Lepual." Fjord states with a smirk.

"Likewise, Captain," Marius states, falling into a seat beside Orly.

Keg turns at the arrival of the newest figure and does a triple take before walking over and clunking to the ground next to Reani and staring at him.

"You...are making me extremely uncomfortable," Kingsley states with a smirk.

"Yeah...sorry, this is a little weird, honestly." as she turns to Beau, Veth, and Caleb, and mouthed, "Why didn't you warn me?!"

Beau blinks, "Sorry."

Kingsley chuckles, "Right, this is awkward, but I've got time to catch up with whatever that is and the rest of y'alls stories in a moment. Cause I need a fucking drink!"

He crows that with a laugh and a second later, he is mimicked by a surprised Kiri which is then picked up by Luc, who instead starts yelling: "Well, get a fucking drink then!"

He and Kiri begin to chant that back and forth turning it into a bit of a song, which Orly chuckles at and begins to play a bit of a jig, eliciting a few smirking laughs from the others, while Kingsley blanches a little bit.

"I feel like I'm a bad influence," Kingsley states as he stands up.

"Oh, we all are." Fjord agrees.

"Most of us." Cad amends with a smile.

Caleb chuckles, gripping Essek's hand a bit tighter as he smiles as well, listening to the chaos begin to pick up around him, as Kiri and Luc begin to dance around them, drawing others to join them as Orly begins to play in earnest, joined by Marius, as he draws a lute from his back. First Beau and Yasha, then Yeza and Veth holding Molly, then Fjord and Jester with their son between them, Marion and the Gentleman, Keg shrugs and begins tapping her foot while Twiggy begins dancing by herself, twirling in a flurry of spinning skirts, leaving Caliana, who is quickly offered a hand by Reani, taking it with a vibrant blush' Kingsley looks about before offering Cad a hand with a smirk, who shakes his head just looking about contently. Kingsley shrugs only for Calliope to vice grip his hand and twirls him away while Nila and her son are the last to stand up and dance, with TJ joining his older sister and her partner. Caleb shoots Essek a questioning look, who smiles and stands, resting his forehead against his silently, before in the moon and fire-light, missed by all but a cloaked green figure at the edge of the revelry their chins tip up towards each other into a soft, gentle kiss.

Caleb is glad to be home.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #beauyahsa #fjorester #shadowgast #cr veth #cr caduceus #kingsley tealeaf #orly skiffback #cr reani

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unsaid-stardust · 3 years

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Touch Me Like the Pouring Rain

trigger warning: this fic implies mild depressive episodes.

Luke used to love the rain. He often found himself on the walkway of the studio when it rained; back when he was alive that is. Now? Now he couldn’t feel the rain like he used to.

He couldn’t feel the baby droplets that raced down his arms; washing away whatever was troubling him at that moment in time (because the rain always seemed to hit so perfectly). He couldn’t get the shivers down his spine that he used to when he sat in the walkway, the ones that always made him remember why he liked to write. He couldn’t just sit and feel things anymore.

And it hurt.

It physically caused an ache in his chest. It was nothing like the pain from the jolts that were caused by Caleb’s stamp, not in the slightest. But, it was enough to make Luke unproductive the entire day, setting up camp at the window sill in Julie’s room.

Luke knew that he wasn’t supposed to be in Julie’s room, but there was something (Always) pulling him there. And he really needed to be surrounded by her today. He didn’t know why, perhaps it was that same gravity that pulled him towards Julie’s room. He really didn’t care for the why though because it didn’t change whether he went to Julie’s room or not (He knew why, but knowing and admitting are two completely separate things).

“Luke?” Julie’s voice called out to him; snapping him out of whatever ghostly trance he was in.

Had he been here all day? It didn’t feel like it. No, no he was only there for like 2 hours. But, then why was Julie already home from school?

“Luke, are you ok? That was like the third time I called your name,” Julie explained after dropping her backpack at her door. She made her way next to him at the window sill and it was then that Luke realized that he had been in some sort of catatonic state. His view of choice? the falling rain.

Most days, he could push that empty feeling in the back of his mind. The one that screams at him and tells him that he is no longer alive. That he doesn’t even have a body, a home, a family, at least one that shares his DNA. The only good thing about being dead is that he has Julie, Alex, and Reggie with him, but sometimes-- sometimes that wasn’t enough.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be in here, I’ll head out now,” Luke lied, not really realizing his low, monotone-coated voice. Luke began to make his way towards the door when Julie touched his arm signaling for him to stop.

“Luke, I can’t let you walk away when I can tell that something is bothering you. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

If it were anyone else, if it were Alex or Reggie, he simply would have continued to make his way out of the room. They have enough weight on their shoulders, he didn’t want to add to it. And he certainly didn’t want to add that same weight onto Julie, but he couldn't say no to her. Not when she’s looking up at him with those big beautiful brown eyes. Not when she’s touching his arm, her warmth radiating onto his skin. Not when she’s the one that gets him without him needing to say a word.

But, how could he explain it to her? For one thing, it was a stupid concept to miss. Rain? It’s literally just water that falls from the sky and ruins your day by getting you wet when you weren’t planning it. And for another thing, he was never good at explaining his emotions. It’s why he wrote songs in the first place. For some reason, it was just easier putting them into music because that was all he was after; it didn’t seem as monumental as sharing his feelings out loud.

But with Julie, he could learn to try.

So, he pressed his lips together before taking a deep breath in and out, not letting his eyes off of Julie’s (If he did, it would’ve all been over and he would’ve left).

“it’s kinda of...stupid, but I've kinda been missing rain? I know it’s right out in front of me so it’s not like I can’t see it, but I can’t....feel it the way I used to and it’s just...hard,” Luke finishes. He dares to look right at Julie then and he sees her lips part and eyes looking back as if she knew him in a past life.

Sometimes it felt like that. Like Luke knew Julie in a past life. He doesn't know if it’s because of that night in her kitchen when she passed through his entire body and he could see the light in her soul. Or if it was the connect of electricity that flowed through their veins as they wrote lyrics and melodies at the piano. Or if it was because of moments like these where he could swear that Julie could feel what he was feeling even though he knew that was out of the question because she was alive and he was...

“Luke, that’s not...” Julie trailed off, trying to find the right words to say.

“That’s not stupid at all. Now that we can-touch it makes me forget the reason why we’re called Julie and The Phantoms in the first place. It only makes sense that some days--are like this. Is there anything I can do?” She questioned.

Luke felt his lips crease into a hint of a smile, the first hint of one, he guessed, all day. Of course she would want to help. Of course. She’s Julie Molina. Words couldn’t really express how much of a pure heart she was. But, even if that was the case, Luke felt that this was one thing that Julie couldn’t fix (She could stay and that would take the pain way a bit, but Luke didn’t think they were at that point in their interesting little relationship yet).

“I-I don’t know. But, Jules?” He questioned softly. She hummed in response.

“Thanks,” Luke acknowledged with a small smile and Julie nodded.

“Of course. I meant it when I said it. You can tell me anything. Now I'm starving so I'm gonna go get a snack you’re welcome to join me in the kitchen, but if you don’t feel up to it, I guess just this once, you can stay in my room,” Julie explained with that smile that Luke swore would put the stars to shame.

“I’ll stay here. Thanks...”

Julie nodded before heading out of her room and closing the door behind her leaving Luke to watch the rain fall out of her bedroom window. If it was one thing Luke Patterson knew, it was that Julie Molina was the sun: warm and bright and wonderful.

But, what Luke Patterson didn’t know was that Julie Molina was forming a plan in her head.

Luke began to notice the plan, however, the next night in the kitchen. It was early in the evening after the Molina’s had finished dinner, which the boys were now invited to as Julie’s dad knew about them now (They’d tell him that they can’t eat, but all three of them had decided it was the least they could do after everything he’s done for them; letting them stay and all).

Julie had collected everyone’s plates off of the dining room table and brought them into the kitchen to wash, Luke offered to help, but she refused. So, instead, he just kept her company as she rinsed the plates off in the sink. He perched himself on the kitchen counter next to the plates handing them off to her to make the process quicker.

Just like always, they had slipped into a sort of routine. Julie washed a plat with a dish rag, put it into the dish washer and hand out her hand towards Luke, who already had the plate in her reach. It was seamless, almost like a product line in a factory. That was, until it wasn’t.

Luke had been reaching for another plate beside him when Julie flicked her dish rag at him with a smug smile. Luke still couldn’t feel the water then. He may be visible to the Molinas (Only sometimes, the boys still haven’t figured that out entirely yet), he may be able to pick things up better, but he still couldn’t feel water. He didn't know what it was about tangibility, maybe it just wasn’t their strong suit.

What he did know, was that he felt that Julie’s seemingly spontaneous water fight wasn’t really spontaneous at all and that it had something to do with their conversation yesterday afternoon. Even though Luke saw right through it, he still played along, grabbing a dish towel himself and splashing her right back.

That’s how the kitchen ended up in puddles that night and Julie’s clothes got tighter (Luke felt like the universe was teasing him at that point; showing him things that he couldn’t touch no matter how badly he wanted to).

It become a sort of reoccurrence; The incident in the kitchen. They started out as subtle little things. Splashing him when they sat at a fountain when they were out one day. Flipping her wet hair at him after she came down from showering (which man, did he think he was daydreaming at first).

After those methods didn’t seem to work, though, Julie went bigger. Spraying him with the garden hose, brining out water guns. She tried everything yet nothing she did seemed to work. Luke debated telling her that she should just give up on him; it was never gonna happen.

But then, it did.

Luke had been walking out of the studio after finishing the final touches on a guitar solo for a new Julie and The Phantoms song when something passed through him, making him stop in his tracks.

He swiftly turned around to try and find the object that had passed, but nothing was remnant of the feeling. Because he didn’t see anything alarming, Luke began to make his way towards the house, but the feeling of something passing through him happened again; no objects in sight.

“What the hell is going on?!” Luke shouted. Well, he got is answer alright. Suddenly, Julie had appeared behind one of the bushes in the garden, water balloon in hand.

“Get him!” She commanded as if it were a battle cry. Luke thought then, that maybe it was, because immediately after she had called, Flynn, Carlos, Alex, and Reggie all appeared from different hiding places in the garden as they began throwing their ammo.

Instinctively, Luke threw his hands up in front of him, his leg pulling up in front of his chest too, to shield him from the balloons that inevitably just passed right through him. In that moment of time, everyone forgot, even Luke.

Because the three boys didn’t get wet, it was Julie, Carlos and Flynn who had suffered the consequences, playful yelps sounding from each of them as they were hit. And Luke wasn’t preoccupied enough not to notice. So, he came up with his own game plan--making a run for it towards Julie and stealing her ammo.

In this case, it was an advantage that he wasn’t able to get wet as he ran across the battlefield. Julie had been distracted by Flynn, who had made Julie her new target, which gave Luke the leeway he needed to sneak up behind her and grab a water balloon from the bucket next to her.

He didn’t miss a beat when he catapulted the balloon at her back. She threw her arms up in shock and turned around to face the culprit; drops of water making her face glitter in the sun.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it!” She yelled at him. Luke held up his hands in defense and widened his eyes dramatically.

“Oh, I’m scared!” He mocked, which was a big mistake because Julie charged towards him after that.

“You should be! Get back here!” She laughed. Luke didn’t take her order, continuing to run laps around the backyard.

“oh I don’t think so! You’ll have to catch me first!” Luke yelled back at her. Julie continued to laugh as she chased after him, Luke joining in too. Neither of them sure how much time had actually passed, Julie finally caught up to Luke and tackled him to the ground.

“Gotcha!” Julie smiled brightly above Luke. Luke realized then how close he was to Julie. Luke’s back had pressed against a tree from Julie’s force while Julie found herself practically straddling Luke, his hands mindlessly placed on her wast, their faces hovering inches apart.

And it was in that moment that Luke had realized something important. He may not be able to feel rain like he used to, but he could feel Julie. He could feel her breath warming his cold skin. Her hands resting on his shoulders. Her legs against his.

He could feel his lips against hers as both of them had began to gravitate towards each other just like they always seem to do.

And as he was kissing her, their bodies moving in sync, his cold breath mixing with her warm, he realized that it had happened.

Luke pulled away from Julie’s lips, his own hurting because of how big he was smiling, and brushed a strand of her hair out of her face as he leaned in and whispered

“You’re my new rain.”

tagging: @moony221b @littledancersun @willexx @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fic #juke #julie molina x luke patterson #ok now this one is another favorite of mine sakljfh #it look me like 3 days to write which is abnomral #but im working on that skjlhfd #bree writes jatp

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megabees · 3 years

Text

no need for proclamation | a beauyasha fic

a what-if look at what would have happened if Beau and Yasha began dating during the harp scene in episode 98

alternate title: 5 times the Mighty Nein didn't know Beau and Yasha were dating, and one time it was literally spelled out for them

find it on ao3 or read below

They have a conversation, out there on the beach.

Yasha with her harp, and Beau, muscles unfurled, feeling at peace for the first time in a while.

The ocean brings clarity for them. They who were not raised by the sea find their anxieties pulled out and caught in a riptide, their bodies returned to them smoothed and polished like a piece of glass swept out into the waves. In the dry plains of Kamordah, Beau had never seen the ocean. Its vast blue stares back at her, forcing her to appreciate how big it is, how she is miniscule in comparison. Beau: big and brash, loud and bold, a born leader, finds herself taking peace in the vastness. In the grand scheme of things, the ocean remains the same. She means nothing to the waves. There is peace in this. If nothing matters, she can do what she wants.

Similarly, Yasha grows up in the Moorlands, surrounded by hills and grasses, but the rocks don’t best the constance of the waves, crashing and settling on the shore. For her, someone who struggles so much with desire, with understanding that her mind is her own, the waves show an unstoppable force. A small child can try to stop the waves from their end, but they always come to the shore anyway. Her path may deviate, like the waves occasionally fade, but she comes back to the same place. Her harp, calming. The waves, swelling and settling. Her mind is her own, she takes fate by the hand.

In front of the ocean, two women come to similar conclusions, and they have a conversation.

They leave the beach holding hands, a new relationship formed.

-------------------------------------------------

The Nein catch on far slower than they realistically should. Yasha and Beau aren’t hiding it, per say. They’re just not making a grand announcement.

That’s how the Nein does things. You keep a secret until someone weasels it out of you, and then it’s known. There’s no need for a proclamation.

Or so Beau and Yasha thought. After the past three weeks, full of longing glances and not hiding the way they act around each other, they’re beginning to doubt the obviousness of their actions.

------------------------------------------------

They tried to hint to Jester, that day on the boat making statues for the Traveler, through subtle flirting and glances, but she never noticed.

“You have really good legs, Yasha”, Jester remarked.

Beau catches Yasha’s eye as she says it, gives her a little up and down look. Calculating, as if she wants to know each and every inch of Yasha’s legs.

Heat flashes up Yasha’s face.

“Yeah, the slit was very, uh, high. Helped with moving around.”

Another knowing glance from Beau to Yasha. When Beau thinks of that night, she thinks of two things. Firstly, the Ruby’s singing and the hypnotic way the fish moved around her. Secondly, she thinks of the way Yasha looked in that dress, shades of grey, black and white illuminating her eyes and her lips.

As the conversation gets more intense, Beau can’t help her hand from drifting behind Yasha, using it partly to steady herself on the slow rocking of the boat and partly to just get closer.

Yasha makes a similar move, placing her hand on Beau’s lower thigh, as she once again apologizes for running Beau through with Skingorger.

“It just adds to my aesthetic. Makes me look more interesting.” Beau is so focused on the hand, slowly and comfortingly rubbing her thigh that she almost misses Yasha’s flustered compliment towards.

“You’re already very interesting….You’re both very interesting.”

It’s Beau’s turn to flush. Don’t think she hasn’t noticed Yasha’s propensity to hide a compliment to her within a compliment to everyone. It’s cute.

It’s fun to be in those stages of a relationship, learning those new things about each other.

Jester’s probably too busy thinking of Travelercon, they can keep it lowkey for a little longer.

----------------------------------------

It turns out though, that neither of them is *great* at keeping things low key.

If you ask Beau, it’s Yasha’s fault. Yasha’s too beautiful and talented, and she keeps showing it off. That harp haunts a few of Beau’s dreams.

(Harps require some deft finger skills, if you catch the drift.)

Yasha gets up to perform for the village of Vo, and she’s surrounded by all these people. Beau watches the way her hands shake, how she searches the crowd for a familiar face, and yells out “Freebird!” so that Yasha can find her.

For Yasha, Beau’s a grounding face in the crowd of people. Someone who doesn’t care how she does, who just is there to support her. All of the Nein is, but this song is for Beau.

Caleb lights Yasha up with silent bolts of lightning, mesmerizing the entire village of Vo, illuminating Yasha with her own personal spotlight.

It’s funny, you know. Prior to meeting Yasha, Beau had always hated storms. In the winery, grapes that got too much rain produced thin and watery wine, and when there was a thunderstorm, the workers couldn’t harvest the grapes. It meant her dad was always angry when there was a storm. Loss of profit, and all that.

Once she met Yasha though, a storm signified Yasha for her. Thunder became part of the comforting rumble of sleeping with the Nein, and lightning illuminated how different her life looked from five years ago.

Even when Yasha was gone, Beau hoped every night to hear a storm. Maybe it meant Yasha was returning to them.

So it’s not her fault she’s put in a stupor by Yasha’s performance. That’s her girl.

It unlocks a deluge of feelings in her chest. Beau’s shell-shocked, as the Nein discusses the performance absent of Yasha.

She can’t help but allow herself to chime in.

“That was amazing.”

She makes sure to tell Yasha how amazing it is later that night, in hushed tones wrapped up together.

----------------------------------------------

After that, they begin to find their stride in how they act around their friends.

In battle, Yasha has a free pass to be as protective as she wants. Beau’s more fragile than she, and is somehow easily swallowed? Yasha’s confused on how the beasts they keep fighting manage to find Beau in their mouths more than anyone else.

Either way, Beau usually ends up taking more damage than anyone else notices.

Nothing against Jester or Cad as healers, but they tend to focus on the group’s overall health levels, and Beau likes to play off her injuries.

Vulnerability isn’t easy for Beau, so Yasha keeps a watchful eye.

She’s already lost one partner, she doesn’t need to lose another.

They’re traipsing through the forest, and Yasha looks away for one moment, and suddenly Beau is on the ground unconscious.

Nosy Expositor can’t keep her hands to herself, Yasha supposes.

She gets Beau back up, taking lightning damage and healing her.

For Yasha, her healing hands are a way of showing Beau her affection. They symbolize forgiveness, and they symbolize hope. It’s just a way of showing how she cares. Yasha’s not great with words, she speaks through her actions, and she hopes Beau understands.

That being said, as if she’s gonna let her girlfriend get healed by just Fjord.

“It’s not a competition, okay!”

“It’s a competition.”

Fjord’s got nothing on her. She’s there for Beau.

This is re-enforced, of course, when Beau asks Yasha to carry her following the fight. There was a time, when Yasha was just regaining her mind, where Beau asked Caleb to carry her following the fight with Obann instead of Yasha, and while Yasha would never admit it to Beau, it hurt a little.

Carrying Beau is Yasha’s thing. They’ve had this joke running through the time they’ve spent together, and Yasha isn’t a fan of other people trying to butt in on that.

Perhaps she’s a bit protective, a bit jealous of Beau. How is she to not be, though, when she was gone for so long and Beau got so much closer with everyone else. For Yasha, post-Obann was a new fear. The Nein had pursued her for so long, but they also made new friends, and what if the Nein had liked them more than they liked Yasha? It’s hard to feel like part of a group when you’re never there. Plus, she was helping someone raise a terrible god, and killing Beau’s co-workers, and while none of it was in her control, she did it.

The fact that the Nein forgave her? That Beau forgave her and still wants to be with her?

Yasha’s still not sure how she got so lucky.

This thought is reinforced with Beau in her arms as they walk through the forest to face a false god. Yasha loves to be able to help. Jester and Cad might be the healers, but Yasha loves the feeling of Beau’s small, lithe body in her arms.

She just wants to hold Beau forever, shelter her from any oncoming attacks.

It’s with this thought that she misses Beau giving Jester a thumbs up as they venture further into the forest.

Who needs subtlety?

----------------------------------------------

When Yasha catches Beau in the air with her new wings, part of her is sure it’s gonna tip off the rest of the group.

It’s so romantic. It was probably a beautiful visual.

Unfortunately, it seems like the rest of the Nein is either being incredibly dense or incredibly respectful, and Yasha’s too held up in her brand new wings to decide which they are.

She flies up and over the mountain with Beau swooning in her arms, and it’s perfect. The sun casts a beautiful golden haze over the island, and Beau’s skin shines in the sunlight.

Yasha might have the wings, but Beau is her angel.

Then the wings disappear and they plummet into a shallow pond.

Yasha’s not thrilled the wings last for such little time, but at least she gets to see Beau soaking wet from the pond, giggly and delighted at the flight.

In that moment, Yasha is overwhelmed with love. It’s too early to say, but she’s been in love before. She knows what that rush feels like, that off balance feeling of “oh shit I’m in deep”.

A small secret, then. Something to unpack on her own time. There’s no need to speed it up, to burden Beau with this until she’s ready.

This love, it can be just hers to have for a bit. She’s allowed to want that.

Beau brings her back to herself, pulling her out of the pond and her own thoughts in one fell swoop.

Holding hands and giggling, they make their way to the edge of the cliffside, overlooking the mountain awash in sunlight. Looking out, Yasha is overcome and she leans over to give Beau a quick peck on the lips.

“I’m happy to have you here with me.”

“Oh? That true, sap?”

Yasha laughs, nodding her head and breaking eye contact, and leads Beau to the edge to point the way down back to their friends.

“We should probably head back, they’re gonna think we’re dead.”

They take a little extra time on the way down though since the Nein hasn’t noticed their other hints. It’s put to good use.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The day they visit Molly’s grave is when they give up any attempt to be subtle at all. Throughout Rumblecusp and the days after, their relationship has switched from being a complete secret to being something that they could easily explain if asked, but no one has outright asked them if they’re dating, so it just hasn’t happened.

Either the Mighty Nein is very dense or very respectful. Yasha’s sensing it might be half and half, because Caduceus had a very meaningful conversation with her about wanting things and patience, but Jester and Veth keep giving Beau looks when they think she should make a move.

Yasha and Beau talk about it at night. It’s funny to them that everyone keeps dancing around the topic. Neither of them is sure about where they got the idea that they can’t just ask, but it’s fun to just have this to themselves.

Until they go to visit Molly’s...no..Lucien’s? grave.

Yasha has a lot of feelings around Molly and his grave, and she’s not exactly thrilled by Caleb’s suggestion that they dig him up to get some answers to questions they don’t even know yet. Feels almost rude, to take a friend out of the ground to inquire about his personal life.

She mentions it to Beau, in a hushed whisper, and Beau attempts to stop Caleb’s focused energy by hinting heavily at it, but his focus is so intense that he brushes her, and Jester, who picks up on both Beau and Yasha’s discomfort, off.

He gets like that sometimes.

They teleport there, and Yasha is struck by how normal it looks. His coat is still there, though it’s blown off the stake they put in to mark his grave, and for a moment, she lets herself hope that he’s still there.

Beau’s hand finds its way into hers as they watch Veth and Cad dig up the grave, a thread of reality keeping Yasha tethered there, eyes locked onto the now empty grave.

She removes her hand from Beau’s, and instead moves it to the small of Beau’s back, pulling Beau closer to her for comfort. Beau’s body is tiny, but it’s something to grasp as they both figure out what this means for their future.

At one of the lowest moments since she regained her mind, Beau is there with her.

She squeezes Beau’s hand once. Beau squeezes back. They’re ready to tell everyone now.

----------------------------------

They tell everyone in Caleb’s fancy tower, after Yasha decides to throw caution to the wind and make a joke about Beau’s fancy sex mirror above her bed.

Jester and Veth are overjoyed, Fjord and Caleb both want to make sure they’re taking care of each other and won’t mess up the group, and Caduceus just nods happily, though they’re sure he knew all along.

As they sit around the fire, Yasha and Beau link pinkies and bask in the laughter and joy of their family.

Things will be okay.

#critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin

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sunflowersloth · 4 years

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Compliments- Caduceus Clay x Reader

Requested By: Anon.

Request: “I absolutely loved your last caduceus prompt, so maybe you could do a fluff #2 for cad sometime? :0″

Warnings: Some innuendos and painfully obvious flirting

A/N: Kickoff to the sleepover! Hope you enjoy. The ending isn’t my favorite thing, but I worked super hard so I’m proud of the outcome. Hope you enjoy!

Caduceus Clay didn’t always know everything. In fact, Caduceus knew practically nothing about the outside world, making him the purest being in the whole group.

Of course, that meant he learned about the world from Jester, Beau, and Nott, which weren’t exactly the best influences in your opinion. Jester filled his head with her romance novel plots and Beau often made innuendos without telling the taller firbolg what they meant.

This caused stress for you. You had had a crush on Caduceus since the tall man had helped the group save you, Jester, Fjord, and Yasha from the Iron Shepherds. Since then, you cherished every moment around the pink-haired man, loving everything from his softness to the beauty he saw in the world.

However, Caduceus had a tendency to say things that caught you off guard more than you expected. Like now.

You were sitting in Caduceus’ garden at the top of the Xhorhouse tower, bathing in the pale light that flooded down from the tree. The garden was a safe space for you, and you often sat against the tree, listening to the sounds of the town and watching Caduceus as he tended to his flowers.

Today you had brought a book, a gift from Caleb, and were quite content with relaxing against the tree as Cad walked through the rows of plants and flowers. About halfway through, you set your book down to stretch. Getting up from your spot against the tree, you took a moment to walk through the flower garden, stopping alongside the daisies, your favorite flower. They were in bloom, despite the unnatural weather, and the aroma of the petals and pollen made you smile and sigh with pleasure. You crouched down and picked a flower gently from the bundle and carefully weaved it into your hair, smiling as the aroma became stronger.

You turned around to walk back to your book, only to be met with a large firbolg standing beside you. You instinctively stop yourself from running into, looking up at the smiling face that was shadowed by the wicker hat that he wore.

“Daisies really compliment your eyes,” Caduceus said, his tone warm and almost playful. You knew that a simple comment shouldn’t have set you off as much as it did, but for some reason, the thought that Caduceus, who thought every plant and flower was positively beautiful, thought your eyes reminded him of flowers was enough for you to lose all sense of mind. You blushed, mumbling a thank you before brushing past him to bury yourself in your book before Caduceus Clay could see what a mess he had turned you into with his words.

The next few days went off without any issue, but then the fight happened. A crazy fight with a dragon had led to almost all of the Mighty Nein with some kind of injury. Away from danger, the group was resting in Caleb’s small magic-made dome, healing and allowing you, Jester, and Caduceus to heal them. Once you were finished with healing Beau’s abdominal wound, you turned to Caduceus, who had just finished with Caleb. You noticed that the firbolg himself was sporting a small, but deep cut along his cheek.

“Caduceus, would you let me heal that?” You asked, walking towards him and pointing to his cheek. Caduceus touched the spot gently and seemed surprised to find blood on his fingers when he pulled back. With a slight nod, your hands were resting along Caduceus’ cheek, your eyes closed as you felt magic surge from your hand to the wound. You felt the skin begin to close beneath your palm, and when you moved it away, the skin was closed without a hint of a scar. You smiled.

“All finished.”

“I have to say, your fingers are like magic,” Caduceus said, in a low rumbling voice. You knew that Caduceus meant that in a purely platonic, kind way, but those words instantly caused red to erupt on your cheeks as both Jester and Beau began to cackle at Caduceus’ comment. Caduceus sent a confused glare to the pair, as you mumbled out a thank you and moved away to sit by Caleb, hiding your face in your knees as Caleb gave you a soft head pat of sympathy.

“What?” Caduceus asked, eyebrows furrowed. Beau waved him off, still laughing to herself as Caduceus simply shrugged. You stayed curled up until you calmed down, lifting your head up to see Caduceus across the bubble, focus off of you and onto Nott. You let out a breath of relief, earning an amused smirk from Caleb as you shot him a glare. You didn’t know how much longer you could handle these comments from Caduceus.

That night was the straw that broke the Moorbounders back. The Mighty Nein had been invited to a party thrown by the Martinet in Nicodranas, and you all had agreed to go in hopes of gaining more information. You had decided to let Caduceus and Jester shop for your outfit, taking some well-earned downtime to sit on the beach at Nicodranas and meditate.

The outfit that Jester picked for you was absolutely stunning, in your own opinion. You walked out of your shared room with Yasha and joined the rest of the group, and Marion Lavorre, in the lobby of the Lavish Chateau in your evening wear, earning a whistle from Jester and a warm smile from everyone else.

Whilst walking, you naturally fell back to walk beside Caduceus. The two of you walked together, usually with Caleb who was currently a few feet in front of you with the newly returned Veth. You walked in comfortable silence with him, when he looked down at you and smiled.

“I must say, you look beautiful. You remind me very much of the flowers that grew from my grandmother’s grave,” He said, a smile on his face. You were left speechless for a moment, your mind racing. Caduceus had mentioned his grandmother a few times during conversations and your mind picked out the specific time that Caduceus mentioned how he thought the collection of lilies and moss around the burial site was, and always will be, the most beautiful part of the Blooming Grove.

Your face erupted into red, as your heart began to beat out of his chest. You looked away from him, staring straight ahead and trying to calm yourself down as Caduceus stared at you, confused.

“Is there a reason that you’re blushing like that?” Caduceus asked, looking at you with concern in his eyes. You let out a mix of a groan and a sigh, before looking to Caduceus.

“Do you know what those kinds of compliments mean to me?” You blurted out, regretting it the minute it left your mouth. Caduceus stopped, seemingly trying to process what you had just said. You sighed, louder this time before you stopped to look at him. Before completely turning your attention to Cad, you waved Caleb off, not wanting anyone to witness you being rejected.

“What do you mean?” Caduceus finally asked, looking up at you with furrowed pink eyebrows. You looked into pink eyes, searching for anything, but there was only confusion.

“It’s just-” You took a deep breath, trying to get rid of your nerves- “I like you, a lot. You’re kind and wise, and super pretty, and every time you compliment me like you just did, I start blushing and my hearts start beating and I know that you’re just being nice and you don’t feel the same but I-”

“You think I don’t like you back?” Caduceus asked. You stared at him, before shaking your head.

“Not in the same way I like you,” You said, dejectedly. You were about to turn to finish the walk to the party, but Caduceus grabbed your hand before you could walk away. You turned to look at him, confused before he bent down and placed a soft kiss to your cheek. Your eyes widened as he stood back up, smiling at you with that grin you loved so much.

“I do like you like that. I’m sorry I didn’t make it more obvious. I thought my compliments were telling enough,” Caduceus said, his eyes soft. You let yourself grin, wide and happy before you grabbed his hand and pulled him down a little bit, getting on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips.

“Let’s go. We have a party to attend,” You said, relishing in the blush that settled on Caduceus’s pale face as you pulled him along to catch up with the rest of the Mighty Nein.

#critical role #crc2 #critical role imagine #critical role x reader #critical role campaign 2 #cr campaign 2 #caduceus clay x reader #caduceus clay #taliesin jaffe #critical role c2

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amurih · 4 years

Text

Bones in the Ocean

I’d thought of trying my hand at writing again. Based off of a previous post I wrote about a while back. God fucking speed me I guess.

The events from Rumblecusp had been a tiring one for both The Mighty Nein as well as the rest of the newly acquired ship crew of the Nein Heroz. But, with the freeing of the VO community, the weight of Jester’s duties for her “god” finished; peace had once again settled over the group once more. And with that peace came new jobs, new information, new adventures, and new possibilities. Becoming Vess DeRogna “bodyguards” wasn’t something not expected, but they had weirder jobs than this. They started to making plans for their way up north towards the frozen lands of Eiselcross. Wondering what lies beyond both the Graying Wildlands and across the Frigid Depths north west of Wildmount.

After informing Veth of the conversation with DeRogna, the team quickly began stocking up for the many weeks at sea and across the land they would be going to. While shopping for some warmer clothing for up north, a message had appeared, straight like an arrow, into Fjords mind. Some words was shared, Sabian’s confirmed whereabouts were currently out at sea with said captain of sketchy renowned among the merchant ship trades. A bit more information that what he had already gathered, Fjord requested more of her services as to keep an eye on Sabian while he was traveling north for the time being. More coin was to be expected to ensured that her services were continue, Fjord gave notice that he would deliver payment when he returned from their current trip.

It had been a couple of days out at sea, well past midnight and most of the crew were either already asleep or getting ready to. Beau would be up finishing writing in her journal of their experiences and trying to piece together some of the information they collected as to what the group would be expecting on the island. Caleb would still be up working on a schedule for Veth, so that she could travel to and from both her family and the group at the same time. Caduceus would be getting ready for bed with his cup of tea that he had just prepared previously. A blend of Chamomile, spearmint, and lemongrass. Jester had decided to turn in early for the night, she had spent most of the day sending messages, sketching of the various crew members working, and catching up on the latest gossip from Artagen. Veth was already asleep after asking Caleb if he needed help with anything he was doing. He didn’t, so as to not have to be reminded that she was in the middle of the sea, she had decided to follow Jester’s example and head to bed early. Yasha had been up in the crow’s nest a while ago wanting to feel the breeze of the wind and a better view of the stars above before turning in for the night. Their current employer would have still been in her personal cabin aboard the ship. They hadn’t seen her since they had boarded back in village of Palebank nor did they want to interact with her.

And then there was Fjord.

Fjord had decided to volunteer of taking watch that night. He had also asked the current boat’s captain if he would take over steering the ship. After a brief reasoning *coughIntimidationcough* the captain had relinquished their hold over the steering wheel. With a quivering nod decided to retreat to the galley of the ship for something to eat and drink.This let Fjord alone with his thoughts. Giving a lot of thinking room by ones self to both the good. And the bad...

The bad such as that undead city out in the astral plane. How not even The Wildmother hadn’t known about this presence or any knowledge about it. Bad such as whether Uka’toa’s next attack would happen while out at sea or would he have sent some of his followers follow him on land. What about the Cerberus Assembly and what they are doing with that newly discovered dodecahedron. What they were going to find once they reached that fallen city in Eiselcross. That Sabian is still out there...

Sabian. The man who whose actions that night still question his mind. Why did do that? After all those years on the Tides Breath, Fjord thought that they were doing better? To which those thought turned to his old crew aboard said ship. They didn’t deserve what happened to them, they didn’t deserve to . Time felt like it came to a crawl while thinking of them, so he turned to one of the things that would pass the time on long voyages and work time.

Sing.

Oh, I bid farewell to the port and the land And I paddle away from Brave Exandra's white sands To search for my long ago forgotten friends To search for the place I hear all sailors end.

As the souls of the dead fill the space of my mind I’ll search without sleeping til' peace I can find I fear not the weather, I fear not the sea I remember the fallen... do they think of me? When their bones in the ocean, forever will be.

It had been a long while since he would sing. Not as well as The Ruby of the Sea’s quality, but just as good as any other being who could hold a tune.There wasn’t a bard or someone who could play this late at night. Just the sounds of the wind, the movement of the waves crashing against the groaning and creaking of the boat below. Fjord was sure that none of the rest of the group would hear him this late at night to tease his ability to sing, so he proceeded to the next verse.

Plot a course to the night, to a place I once knew To a place where my hope died along with my crew; So I swallow my grief and face life's final test T’ find promise of peace and the solace of rest.

As the souls of the dead fill the space of my ears Their laughter like children, their beckoning cheers. My heart longs to join them, sing songs of the sea I remember the fallen... do they think of me? When their bones in the ocean, forever will be.

It must be a trick of the moonlight, but for a split second there were more than just him on the top deck. One. Then became two. Soon there were Thirty-two more. They weave and swayed around each other as if performing tasks one would normally do on board a ship. Familiar garbs and faces of those long passed. It was impossible, he was miles and miles away from the place where the Tide’s Breath sank. Yet these were faces of men whom he worked with for many years. Said faces turned towards Fjord as they stopped what they were doing. And as if many calling back to Fjord as if coming from beyond the wind and waves. A chorus of men join Fjord’s song. They are smiling, not a bit of ill will towards their fellow crew mate who had survived the ship those many months ago.

When at last, before my ghostly shipmates I stand I shed a small tear for my home upon land; Though their eyes speak of depths filled with struggle and strife Their smiles below say I don't owe them my life

It was as if there was a spell being cast a spell over the ship. Fjord had thought that if he were to stop singing then they would disappear once more. They weren’t doing anything other than stand and look towards Fjord as he helm the ship. Smiling, they continue the chorus back with Fjord.

As the souls of the dead fill the space of my eyes And my boat listed over and tried to capsize I'm this far from drowning, this far from the sea I remember the living... do they think of me? When my bones in the ocean, forever will be

Oh how many nights he had wish that the boat hadn’t been destroyed. That Sabian hadn’t lit the fuse next to the explosives that caused the deaths of his previous crew mates. How Vanderen wasn’t still missing on one of the many island of the lucideon ocean. How he became just a warm body for Uka’toa’s goals. He would have been working the trade routes till his death either by drowning at sea naturally, pirate ships, or just old age. Day after day boring and mundane life. No, excitement other than bar fights and disputes over pay.The same shore line up and down the Menagerie coast. Stagnant.

Now that I'm staring down at the darkest abyss I'm not sure what I want, but I don't think it's this; As my comrades call to stand fast and forge on... I make sail for the dawn until the darkness has gone.

Fjord would say that a tiny part of him was grateful that Sabian did what he did.If that explosion to the ship didn’t happen then he wouldn’t have seen what was beyond the beaches of the Menagerie coast. Wouldn’t have learned of others joys and hardships.He wouldn’t have met The Mighty Nein.

As the souls of the dead live fore'er in my mind As I live all the years that they left me behind; I’ll stay on the shore but still gaze at the sea I remember the fallen and they think of me For our souls in the ocean, together we’ll be.

These people--his family. Who made him a better person. Made him want to be a better person. They were all to thank, and would be remembered for all time much like his old crew. As the last of the verse came to be, one by one his old crew mates dissipate back to where they once came from. Their voices, one by one, carried out across the deck of the ship, across the sea, and to the beyond. Back to their resting ground.Just Fjord by himself, steering the ship towards their northern destination.

As if it didn’t even happen,there came another voice beyond the winds. Beyond the sea. A motherly voice follows along the end to Fjord’s song.

I remember the fallen and they think of me... For our souls in the ocean, together we'll be.

#I tried writing again #fjord #critical role #the mighty nein #tm9 #My writing skill fuckin suck man :)#good ideas; bad writing #the wildmother #I only changed one word from the original song so that it fits the bill of the story #Note to me: insert you tried sticker here

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goat-yells-at-everything · 4 years

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Final Thoughts: The Witch

*SIGH*

I didn't hate it.

I wanted to hate it. I use to hate it.

I didn't hate it.

I didn't even hate William as a character as much as I use to. Still hate Ineson, though.

My Bias

Let me start off with my bias. If you couldn't tell by now, I love goats. What originally drew me to The Witch that day in Family Video (not sponsored) was, of course, the goat on the cover. After watching the movie I did some reading on it and the VAST majority of coverage about the movie was about Black Phillip. "Fine by me!" I thought. "I'd rather read about the only star that matters here anyway!"

And that's how I learned of Charlie. Charlie was a beautiful black buck with gorgeous piercing golden eyes. There isn't much base information about him but from my own research and knowledge, I beleive Charlie is an Old Irish. Funny enough, the striking horns that earned Charlie his place in the movie because of how large they were are not actually that big by Old Irish standards. These boys can grow some IMPRESSIVE racks. *cough*

Charlie was not the most dedicated actor on set. If they wanted him to be boisterous and act aggressive, Charlie wanted to take a nap. If they wanted him to hold still and display the calm demeanor of The Devil, Charlie wanted to run around like a kid discovering his legs for the first time. This description didn't shock me in the least. "Thats...thats just a goat?" I thought. "Thats just how they ARE." Goats are like...well, goats are unique animals. While even a cat can be trained with enough patience and the right reward, goats are wonderfully intelligent and MIND NUMBINGLY STUPID animals all at the same time. You look into their eyes and you see the infinite knowledge of the universe AND the mindless empty void AT THE SAME TIME. That is just the nature of the domestic goat. So of course you will never have a goat do what you want it to on the first, second, or even tenth try. If you work with goats in any way, you just need to accept this.

So Charlie, this incredibly intelligent and extremely stupid animal, was on a set of a movie where He was the antagonist in the minds of the characters, actors, and crew. Charlie could have been just fine on the set if the actors had kept their animosity to filming sessions, and most of them did just that. Most of the actors and crew were, at worst, neutral towards Charlie when not actively filming a scene with him. Most of the actors.

Ineson was not among them. Ineson is quoted as saying "From the moment we set eyes on each other it was just kind of hate at first sight." Now, because of their vast infinite nothingness in their heads, goats really aren't capable of "hate at first sight," but they CAN sense animosity from others towards them. Like when your cat knows that your dad hates cats. They just know. So you have an incredibly intelligent moron that weighs just over 200lbs looking at this imposing angry man that was Ralph Ineson and he knows the man does not like him and Ineson has decided that every action Charlie makes is just to spite him, specifically.

It was not the best paring...

By the 4th day of filming, Ineson reported that he was on pain killers for the remainder of the 5-week shoot.

The thing was, the rest of the actors and crew (aside from Eggers but he was trying to direct a goat in a movie so he gets a little leeway) actually recall how sweet and wonderful Charlie was. Anya Taylor-Joy has said that the shoot was a "beautiful" experience. Anna Kilch, a veteran animal trainer, said Charlie was a dream to work with.

So I'm not the biggest fan of Ineson...

The Movie

With that said, what did I think about the movie?

It was...not horrible. In fact, if I put aside my own animosity towards Ineson, it was pretty ok. There are PROBLEMS, no doubt about that, but it was decent.

The Good

The atmosphere was beautiful. It was shot in a quaint little bit of nowhere in Northern Ontario. Pretty sure they put a blue filter over everything but it really did work. It muted all the color and made it all very dreary and damp feeling. In most other situations this would be a major detriment but the overall feeling of hopelessness from the characters was perfectly accented by the misty and drab landscape.

The characters....there were problems but I'll touch on that later. What I liked was how they represented the Deadly Sins.

William is pretty clear. He is the Sin of Pride. It was his pride that had them exiled from their settlement. It was his pride that caused him to lie and steal from his own family. It was his pride that kept his family in a place that was blighted and would not produce anything. It was his pride that made him refuse to see Black Phillip for what he was.

Katherine was also very clear. She is the Sin of Wrath. Her anger at Thomasin for the loss of her infant blinded her to everything around here. It blinded her to Thomasin's innocence. It blinded her to her other childrens sins. It blinded her to how hard Thomasin worked to regain her mothers favor. And, eventually, it blinded her to the avatars of the devil that came to her that dark night.

Caleb, again, very clear. He is the Sin of Lust. Caleb was a bright young boy who was dedicated to and dearly loved his family. He loved one family member a little too much. Caleb lusted after his elder sister. That lust eventually lead him into the arms of the titular Witch as she seduced him with her HUGE....tracks of land... c:

Mercy and Jonas are harder to pin down. Eventually I settled on Envy and Sloth respectively, though I'm not 100% sold on them. Jonas I'm a bit more sure on. His character is fairly one note and all about shirking any work his elder sister tries to give him. I settled for Envy for Mercy mostly because of the scene near the creak. She seemed to envy the attention her father and elder brother gave to Thomasin. Neither one are very strong connections though.

Thomasin didn't really show a sign of a serious sin until the very end. Actually, she almost seemed to embody ALL of the sins in the end after being almost pure as snow for the whole movie. Almost. She displayed minor sins throughout the movie but it made her a believable character. She was a young woman, somewhere between 14 and 16 I'd say. She got angry at her siblings, she wasn't totally focused on her chores, the normal teenage stuff.

However, by the end of the movie, Thomasin displayed nearly all 7 Sins. She was wrathful towards her father. She was greedy for her mothers love. Black Phillip's offers display Gluttony (Butter) and Envy (the Dress). She was certain that she was right in all of her actions, blinded by Pride. She was apathetic once her family were all dead, leaving them all to rot in the elements as she wallowed in self pity. And finally she disrobed and frolicked with the devil in her Lust.

The Bad

Oh yes was there bad.

The sound direction was OBJECTIVELY horrible. What should have been ambient sound effects were too loud, the dialog was WAY too soft, the music was all over the place. It fell well into that nasty hole that Horror has of turning all the sound to soft and quiet before hitting you with a sudden jolt as the action jumps to life. When used well, this can elicit a visceral feeling in the viewer that lets them connect with the urgency of the scene. When used wrong, its just a cheep tactic to get a scare just like jump scares. This REALLY needs to be called out more often in Horror. We all denounce jump scares as cheep and over used and we need to do the same for the auditory equivalent.

The dialog was really hard to understand. I understand the choice considering the setting, but it was the biggest wall that kept me from enjoying anything the first time around. By the nature of Old Low English, words would blend into one another and become almost gibberish. Its a very lovely language to read, but a chore to listen to. I put on subtitles this time around and was able to follow the story much more easily. I would absolutly advise putting on subtitles while watching it.

The ending was the weakest part of the movie aside from the sound issues. I mean the very last scene. Everything leading up to that was actually very well done. The way Thomasin goes to Black Phillip and demands he talk to her. The way he offers her everything she could ever want. How you see both the hope and defeat in Thomasin when Black Phillip began to talk to her. It was clear he was the one who set in motion the cogs that ended with her families death but they were all victims of their own sins in the end. She saw his power over their insignificant lives and was crushed by his seeming superiority to the Lord she had been raised to love. At the same time, she saw the power he could bestow on HER, a clear tangible power unlike the "story" of Heavenly Power that she never saw physical examples of.

To end on the scene of this naked woman, no longer the innocent girl burdened by heavy trappings of modesty, walking into the woods with the black billygoat hot on her heals would have been so powerful. Just cut to black right there. You can even still have the witches chanting as it cuts to black and the end credits fade in.

But they decided to take it one step further and it did NOT help the ending. It was just too over the top with the naked women writhing erotically around this fire. When the camera turns back on Thomasin and she begins writhing and moaning and laughing and you see her rise into the air, maybe its just me but it took away the power of that sure confident woman walking into the woods.

It just feels like a step too far and would have been much stronger if they'd just left that part out.

The G.O.A.T

The best part was still Charlie.

Black Phillip, Black Phillip

A crown grows out his head,

Black Phillip, Black Phillip

To nanny queen is wed.

Jump to the fence post,

Running in the stall.

Black Phillip, Black Phillip

King of all.

Black Phillip, Black Phillip

King of sky and land,

Black Phillip, Black Phillip

King of sea and sand.

We are ye servants,

We are ye men.

Black Phillip eats the lions

From the lions' den.

#Final Thoughts #goat yells at horror movies #The Witch #long post

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luckyjak · 5 years

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fic: Declaration of Intent (1/5)

“Then it’s settled,” Caleb beamed, pleased with his own cleverness. “We’ve got to find you a husband, before your mother finds you a wife.”

Essik has a problem; Caleb has a solution. Both of them are so good at pretending that their hearts may never recover.

[The Caleb-and-Essik-Fake-Dating/Fake-Engaged-fic you didn’t know you wanted. Shadowgast. Canon-compliant as of episode 63 but probably won't be for long.]

a/n: This is like, the opposite of a slow burn. This is a fast burn: two characters who get together way too quickly and are way too intimate with each before their feelings can catch up.

The rating may also go up as the story progresses, but I don't want to promise something and not follow through on it.

AO3 Link

There was something wrong with the Shadowhand.

It was subtle; from the outside, the man was as composed and as polished as ever. But Caleb had been spending a lot of time with him, and Caleb was nothing if not observant. He was sharper, more critical than Caleb had ever known Essik to be, and while practicing dunamancy was normally one of Caleb’s favorite activities, the afternoon had made it something of a chore. It was in the way Essik moved: his spellwork was...strained, and his concentration waned. He was irritable, and nothing Caleb could do seemed to help ease the irritability, no matter how flawlessly and fast Caleb learned. They had been at this particular spell for hours, and it was beginning to become a problem that would reach a boiling point soon.

“No no no, you are doing it wrong!” Essik snapped, for the fourth time this afternoon. He ran one hand through his cropped hair and the other along the spellbook, tracing arcane ruins with long fingers. “The pronunciation is el-sol-la-de , not el-sal-la-de , you--”

Caleb snapped back. “I would have done that if you said so earlier instead of just handing me a book written in Undercommon and expecting me to just 'figure it out'--”

“I don’t expect you to just figure it out, I expect you to use your brilliantly gifted mind and--” Essik stopped mid-sentence and rubbed his face with his hand, his eyes scrunched shut. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I am being unkind.”

You think? Caleb thought, but didn’t say out loud. Instead, he merely nodded in agreement; Essik had been uncharacteristically unkind towards him all afternoon.

“Perhaps we should take a break. I’ve been pushing you hard, and it’s not your fault. Dunamancy is a difficult school of magic to learn even on the best days, and we’ve been going at it for hours now,” The gentleman moved to sit down on the couch in the library/lab, and he gestured for Caleb to follow.

They sat together in quiet stillness for a moment; Essik stared out of the window, lost in his own thoughts, and Caleb stared at Essik. The other man was tired, Caleb realized, and clearly stressed about something, but what the young wizard couldn’t hazard to guess.

“You have been off all day,” Caleb broke the silence, sitting down next to the drow on the opposite end of the couch. “Is everything alright?”

Essik brushed him off immediately. “It is a personal matter. I should not allow it to interfere with my work.”

“What bothers you so?” Caleb tried again, his curiosity peaked. It wasn’t often that he saw the Shadowhand as raddled as much as he was. Essik stopped, his face scrunched in hesitation, which made Caleb wince in sympathy. “If it’s too personal, you do not have to--”

“No,” the drow shook his head. “I should talk to someone about it. And you are a neutral party, from a different culture. Perhaps you could advise me in ways others could not.”

Caleb bowed his head slightly. “I’ll do my best.”

“Right. I, uh,” the Shadowhand stumbled with his words uncharacteristically, stilling looking not at Caleb but at the dark window, as if it might hold the answer he was looking for. “I’m getting married.”

Oh . That was unexpected. “Congratulations?” He said, hesitantly. The thought of Essik getting married was...unanticipated.

Of course Essik would be getting married, Caleb thought with uneasy queasiness. He was a powerful, beautiful young man, with an important career and a lot of political influence. Of course he would have caught the attention of someone special, somebody young and beautiful, somebody not at all like Caleb.

“It is not my choice,” Essik bit his lip, turning his attention away from the window and looking at Caleb’s face once more. “You know I am--young, right? Not compared to you and your kind, but in elvish terms I am barely grown,” Caleb nodded in agreement. It was difficult to comprehend 200 years old as a young person, but when a species lived to be in the thousands, it was easier to acknowledge. “I’ve accomplished a lot in my short life, which is made even more impressive given that my soul is not consecrated, and this is only my first life. But, ah, my amille , my mother, she, ah, thinks I need to wed. For the good of House Theylas.” The drow shook his head in disagreement. “She’s arranged for me to meet with and betrothed myself to a young woman from Den Olios, and I--I do not wish to.”

“Because you do not like this young woman?” Caleb venture a guess.

“Because I do not like any women,” Essik’s face flushed a darker purple, and he hid his face in his hands. “For a woman who has lived 800 years and three separate lifetimes, you’d think my mother would understand that!”

“Ah,” Caleb winced in sympathy. “Admittedly, I still do not know much about your culture. Is such a thing frowned upon?”

He wanted to ask Essik, since he apparently didn’t like women, if preferred the company of men, but he didn’t want to assume. For all Caleb knew, the Shadowhand was like Caduceus, and didn’t want to be with anyone, no matter their gender. A small part of Caleb--a part he didn’t like to acknowledge--rather hoped that the Shadowhand did prefer men.

Men like Caleb, even, although that part remained wisely unsaid.

He also wondered if Essik’s face would always be such a delightful shade of dark purple. “It’s not frowned upon. Ah, we are a reincarnation society, right? So sometimes a pair of veru come back the same gender as before, or different. My father, he was a man when he married my mother, but when he was reborn he came back as a woman. She and my mother are no longer together, because they never vowed atemay , but they could be together if they wanted to, yes? It doesn’t matter that they are both women.”

Caleb cocked an eyebrow. “But it matters that you don’t wish to marry a woman?”

Essik sighed. “It--it does. It’s--it’s important for there to be children, yes? Especially in powerful dens, there needs to be heirs, because we reincarnate. Because I am the highest ranking member of my family, I’m considered Den Theylas’s heir, despite being my mother’s youngest child.”

It was starting to make sense to Caleb. “Because you are the Shadowhand.”

“Because I am the Shadowhand,” Essik repeated with a groan, leaning over to place his head in his hands. “I could--I could solve everything if I just stopped being the Shadowhand. My sister Meela would be my mother’s heir then, and Meela is already married with two children.”

That sounded like a terrible solution to Caleb. “But you don’t want to stop being the Shadowhand.”

“I love my job,” Essik agreed, with a pained expression. “What I do is important, to the Dynasty, to the Bright Queen, and to the study of dunamancy. I would hate to leave it.”

The thought was curious, however. “What would you do then, if you weren’t the Shadowhand?”

“I don’t know,” Essik answered honestly. “It wouldn’t be this, though,” he gestured around the room to where he and Caleb had spent most of the afternoon training and studying. A lump began to form in the back of Caleb’s throat at the thought of what Essik was implying: if Essik was no longer the Shadowhand, he would not be the person assigned to watch over and guide the Mighty Nein. Someone else would take his place.

Caleb tried to imagine somebody else in Essik’s role as their guide. In his mind, he pictured someone who would be less kind to their diverse group of adventurers. Someone who might have a problem with the fact that they planted a giant tree on the roof, or someone who would take issue with the fact that Caleb and Beau were humans. Someone who wouldn’t teach him dunamancy, and someone who wouldn’t be nearly as amused as Essik often was at their antics.

Someone less attractive, almost certainly, and that was reason enough for Caleb to protest. “Well, we cannot have that, then.”

“But I don’t know what else to do ,” Essik sighed, his head hung down low. “My mother is the Den Mother for all of Den Theylas. She’s an incredibly powerful Warlock and an uncanny politician. More importantly, she’s very good at getting what she wants, and she’s been trying to arrange a marriage for me for years. I’ve outsmarted her before, but I don’t know...I don’t know how to get out of it, this time.”

Caleb leaned over closer to Essik, so that his knee was barely brushing against Essik’s. “Is there anyone else you could get help from? Would the Bright Queen assist you in any way, if you appealed to her? You serve on her Council--surely that must account for something.”

“The Bright Queen and my mother have been friends since before I was born,” Essik shook his head. “If I went to her with this, she would side with my mother, and then I’d really have no hope. The Bright Queen’s word is law.”

“Could you suggest an alternate partner? Maybe the young lady from Den Olias has a brother?”

“She doesn’t, I’ve already looked. And if my mother is the one doing the arranging, then all she will care about is me having an heirs,” Essik rubbed his wrist with concern. “Which means a--a lady, a wife.”

“Which you don’t want.”

“I prefer men,” Essik confessed, and Caleb stomach flipped a bit happily. He had assumed, given Essik’s dilemma, but it was still nice to know he and the Shadowhand had that in common. “Sexually. Romantically. I don’t dislike women. But I cannot imagine myself ever being in a relationship with one. At least happily.”

It was a shame, too, because Essik was quite handsome, in Caleb’s opinion. It would be a terrible waste: Essik, with his beautiful smile and sharp chin, trapped in a loveless marriage, forced to spend--however obscenely long it was that drow lived for--with a woman he didn’t know and didn’t love.

At least if the girl in question were human, he’d only have to wait less than a tenth of his lifespan.

Oh.

A surge of brilliance struck through Caleb as an idea slowly began to take form. “What if you were already promised to another?”

That caught Essik’s attention. “How do you mean?”

“Could your mother marry you off if you were already engaged to someone else?” Caleb asked, his knees brushing against Essik’s on the couch.

Essik paused, his mouth frowning. “No--I, no, she couldn’t. Don’t get me wrong, polyamory is a thing here,” Good to know. “But once a bond has been established, no one outside of the bond can decide to extend it, no matter how much influence they may have.”

“Then it’s settled,” Caleb beamed, pleased with his own cleverness. “We’ve got to find you a husband, before your mother finds you a wife.”

Essik smiled at him softly, but it was not the overjoyed ‘ah, Caleb, you are so terribly brilliant’ smile Caleb had hoped it would be. “I wish it were that simple,” Essik shook his head. “But my mother is crafty . She will want to interrogate whoever I’ve chosen to marry, and she would have to approve of the match in order for it to go through. And I have,” he looked outside of the window at the dark day out there, “very little time to find someone.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow at Essik. “Would your mother ever accept a human?”

“You can’t be serious,” Essik breathed, catching on with the finer, unsaid aspects of Caleb’s plan.

“Why not?” Caleb shrugged. “We work well together. Better yet, we can convince the rest of the Nein to collaborate with our story. No one will argue too much with the Heroes of the Dynasty, no?” The red head leaned back on the couch, stretching slightly. “I have no other prospects for the moment. And I live a much shorter lifespan than you.”

“You are serious,” Essik’s eyes grew impossibly wider. “Widogast, that’s insane.”

“Why?”

“ Why? Lots of reasons!” The drow exclaimed, jumping up from the couch so he could pace the room. “We barely know each other! We’re--we’re from different worlds , two different countries, different cultures, different races--we can’t--we couldn’t possibly convince my mother that we were lovers, much less engaged! I’ve known you less than a month!”

“People do crazy things all the time, especially when they are in love,” Caleb smirked at his teacher. “Haven’t you ever been in love before?”

The Shadowhand turned to glare at him with his arms crossed. “I’m a little less than two hundred years old. What do you think?”

Caleb thought a lot of different things, and could have said as much, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood up and walked closer towards Essik. “It’s just a con, you know? Just a bunch of lies told together, to tell a semi-plausible story.” He stepped even closer towards Essik, until the two of them were face to face. It might’ve just been the atmosphere of their conversation, but Caleb felt taller than Essik for once. “You mean to tell me that you, Essik Theylas, Shadowhand of the Bright Queen, spymaster of the Dynasty, have problems lying?”

Essik flung his arms apart, poking Caleb in the chest. “It’s not my ability to lie that concerns me, Widogast. It’s yours .”

Caleb couldn’t help but chuckle. “Believe it or not, Shadowhand, but I’m quite an experienced con-artist. Nott and I used to run a con similar to this back before we joined up with the rest of the Nein, actually.”

Essik raised an eyebrow. “You and the little goblin girl used to pretend to be married for an extensive period of time?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the same,” Caleb blushed, stretching the back of his head. “ I--I, uh, pretended to be her father, actually.”

“Ah. And how did that go?” Essik looked a little impressed, though still a bit skeptical.

“It worked, for a while. Better in some towns than others. Made a decent amount of money at it. Kept us fed and dry. Certainly worked longer than this particular con would need to.”

Essik shook his head, turning away from Caleb and staring down at his feet. For a moment, Caleb had the strangest thought that the man was about to leave , just walk out of the Xhorhouse and never come back. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned back to face Caleb, his expression cold and methodical, as if their conversation was a game, and he needed to think 2000 steps ahead of Caleb in order to win.

“And what, exactly, do you get out of this, Caleb Widogast? I doubt you are willing to help me this much out of the kindness of your heart.”

Caleb shrugged. “I figure the Shadowhand of the Dynasty owing me a favor is a good thing to have.”

“None of that,” Essik snapped, stepping closer to Caleb. “I don’t play those games. Be specific about what you want, or stop wasting my time.”

Damn . Caleb had hoped to get by with a favor. A favor could be anything; a favor was negotiable, depending upon what the party in question was asking for.

Well, he’d just have to make due, then. He stepped closer to Essik, until the two gentlemen were face to face, merely breaths apart. “I figure as your husband, I might have access to your spellbook,” Caleb breathed, his face inches from Essik’s own. “You know. What’s mine is yours and all that.”

“Absolutely not,” Essik’s face flushed with what was quickly becoming Caleb’s favorite shade of dark purple. “I have some very powerful, very confidential spells--I could never just give you my spellbook.”

“But you could let me look at the rest,” Caleb gave a counteroffer. “Hide the confidential parts, and let me study at my leisure.”

The drow took a step back away from him, lost in his own thoughts. Caleb could tell he was considering the idea, and he tried not the get too giddy at the prospect.

Conversing with Essik like this was...exhilarating, in a way nothing in his life had been since he had been at the Academy. He had missed this, he realized suddenly. Verbally sparring with someone of equal intelligence was a game he had forgotten he missed.

It reminded him of how he used to talk with Astrid, actually. But that was a thought to analyze at a different time.

“Or you could get married,” Caleb teased, perhaps a bit mean, his thoughts returning from his former flame. He turned away from Essik, running his hand along the table in the center of the room, taking his time as he spoke. He could be terribly patient when he needed to. “You know, if the lady from Den Olios looks anything like the Den Mother Zethris, she’ll be quite beautiful. You’ll have that to work in your favor at leas--”

“The whole book,” Essik interrupted, stretching out his hand for Caleb to take. “Minus the confidential parts. And only while I’m around for you to copy it.”

Caleb grinned, and shook his hand firmly. “It’s a deal, then.”

“And if you blow yourself up with time magic, well, that’s just one less thing for me to worry about,” Essik grimaced, letting go of Caleb’s hand. He turned his back on Caleb, turning towards the table in the center of the room, with spellbooks and scrolls still opened up to various different dunamantic spells. Methodically, Essik began packing up, putting each book and scroll back in it’s case.

“It wouldn’t have to be real, you know,” Caleb offered, his voice quiet as he followed the drow around the room. “The Mighty Nein, we are planning to leave for a bit anyway. Have an errand to run in Nicodranas. You could try and find a legitimate partner while I’m gone, and we could, ah, break up when I return,” Caleb seemed unbothered by the prospect. “Or you said it yourself, that polyamory is a thing here. If you found another whose company you preferred, I would not be opposed. Or we could separate, after a time. When you thought it was safe,” Essik didn’t answer him.

Caleb watched Essik as he meticulously placed several books back into his bag, seemingly intent on ignoring Caleb. “That is a thing here, right? Divorce?” Caleb asked with genuine curiosity. If it wasn’t, perhaps that would be why Essik was so hesitant. “When two married people don’t want to be together anymore, they can separate legally?”

“We call it annulment, but yes, that’s a thing here,” Essik paused his packing momentarily to look back at Caleb. “It’s not terribly common, but it does exist. It--it wouldn’t be out of the question for me to seek an annulment.”

“Then perfect!” Caleb beamed, clapping his hands together. “We get married, you let me copy your spellbook, your mother gives up on finding you the perfect bride, and then we go our separate ways as friends and--”

Essik kissed him.

It was strange, being kissed by Essik. Sure, the drow man was incredibly attractive, but Caleb hadn’t thought to ever do anything about that, beyond a nighttime fantasy or two. What started as a simple press of lips quickly grew more passionate, as Caleb opened his mouth, and Essik opened his. Caleb was pushed with his back up against the table, as Essik had one hand flat against the table and the other crawling across the length of Caleb’s back. Caleb kept his hands pressed in the space between Essik’s neck and jawline, fingers tracing upwards towards white hair and pointed ears.

Essik kissed Caleb the same way lightning came with a storm, sudden and unexpected, a hot surge of energy radiating against Caleb’s skin. Caleb felt like his entire body was on fire; each place the drow kissed or touched left smoldering in its absence.

He didn’t know how long they kissed for. But they had to breathe at some point. Essik pulled away slow, then rested his forehead against Caleb’s own. “Well. That was nice.”

“Were you concerned?” Caleb asked, catching his breath, his back made uncomfortable by the way the table was digging into it, but unwilling to move any farther out of Essik’s embrace.

“Of course. I had to make sure we were compatible in that way,” Essik was teasing him, although it was hard to tell based on how serious his voice sounded. “For all I knew, you were a bad kisser. I couldn’t marry you if you were a bad kisser.”

“Hmm, well,” Caleb grinned, licking his lips where Essik’s had been moments ago. “Glad I passed the test.”

Essik smiled at him, a little coyly, and then kissed Caleb on the forehead. “I would not ask anything of you that you would be unwilling to do.” The drow promised, both of his hands on Caleb’s cheeks. “But my mother has a soft heart. If she thought I genuinely loved someone, she would support me, no matter who they were. We--we would need to convince her that we were in love, though.”

More kisses then. In public, where people could see. Certainly, there were worse things than kissing a handsome man in public. Caleb nodded, and bit his lip at the thought of kissing Essik again. “Ja. I can do that.”

“And--drow society is not always kind to outsiders,” he ran one hand down the side of Caleb’s face. “You would-- I would expect my cousins to be better people, but I cannot promise that they would not be unkind to you. There would be--rumors and gossip, always . My immediate family in particular may not be warm or friendly, especially at first.”

“It is nothing worse than what I have already endured,” Caleb confessed. Given everything he had already lived through, he could handle a few gossiping tongues. “And you are teaching me dunamancy. I feel it is only fair for me to help you given how you have helped me.”

Essik smiled, reaching out and taking Caleb’s hand into his own. “Your hand in marriage, in exchange for dunamacy lessons?”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Well, when you put it that way--”

“I am being serious,” Essik said softly. “You don’t know how much this means to me. You,” he stopped and squeezed Caleb’s hand. “If this works, you’ll have saved my life.”

Caleb could tell he meant those words. Whether that meant Essik would have ended his own life to avoid a loveless marriage, or if he just meant that his life wouldn’t have been worth living, Caleb couldn’t tell.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Caleb whispered. “I don’t--I am not always the best at realizing what that is at times, but I know this is right. I would want someone to do the same for me, if I were in your shoes.”

Essik kissed him again, softly this time, and he pulled away far quicker than Caleb would have liked. Instead, he took Caleb’s hands and brought them to his lips, kissing both hands, one, and then the other. “You bring me honor by considering me as a partner.”

His words sounded solemn, like those of a vow, but Caleb didn’t know the context beyond that. It felt important, however, so Caleb remained silent, and let Essik speak. “I promise you loyalty, first to my Den, of which you will become a part, then to my Dynasty, and lastly to our line, that it may be prosperous. I promise you hearth and health, for as long as I am able to provide it, and that you may always have a home in Den Theylas, no matter what life you take on next. Above all, I promise to be your partner, in life and in love, through failure, sorrow, triumph, and joy, so long as you should have me as your husband,” Essik’s face glowed slightly. He then took off his cloth belt, and wrapped the fabric tightly around Caleb’s right wrist.

They were quiet for a moment as Caleb admired the newfound cloth bound tightly along his wrist. It was dark in color, like most of the clothes Essik wore, but it was silk, a nice fabric, and there was a recognizable emblem of Den Theylas sewed on it. The wrapping was tight, but not uncomfortable, and in hindsight, Caleb had seen others with their wrists bound like this that he had passed on the street. It’s like a ring, he thought, and felt his cheeks color. “I don’t know what to say.”

“ Yes is the preferred answer, given that this was your idea,” Essik kissed his clothed hand again.

“Yes, then.”

“I imagine the Empire has a slightly different traditional proposal?”

“It’s much simpler,” Caleb felt his face flush. “But, ah, seems less romantic in comparison.”

“What’s it like?” Essik asked with curiosity, and Caleb recognized the gleam of someone who wanted to learn as a kindred spirit.

He knelt down on one knee before Essik, taking the other man’s hand into his own. “Will you marry me?” He asked, fully aware of how red his face was. Essik didn’t seem to mind, as he was still smiling at Caleb.

“Oh, much simpler,” the drow grinned, squeezing Caleb’s hand. “Yes.”

“Traditionally, I’d have a ring, too, but you caught me a bit off-guard.”

“Any ring?” Essik asked, taking one off his fingers and offering it to Caleb, who was still kneeling.

“ Nein , not quite,” Caleb laughed, putting the gold ring back on Essik’s hand, the mimicry of an actual proposal. “It should be something we pick out together.” He stood up and kissed Essik again, softly and quickly, the way he might’ve if he had actually proposed to someone.

For a moment, he imagined that it was real. That he and Essik had fallen deeply, madly in love, in such a short time that they’d known each other, and decided tonight to promise themselves to each other. He could picture it, easily. The drow shly inviting him to dinner, late one evening after a long day of dunamancy practice. After an evening of witty banter and stimulating intellectual arguments, they’d retire to Essik’s private library, where the Shadowhand would try to impress him with his collection. But for once in his life, Caleb would be more distracted by his partner than he would be the collection of books. They’d kiss then in the library, hesitant at first but growing until the late hour demanded Caleb return to the Xhorhouse, alone but gifted with an overactive imagination and the promise of a second date.

After that, their relationship would move quickly; soft, hesitant kisses exchanged for evenings spent in one another’s bedchambers. When they were exhausted, they’d trade stories and secrets to one another. In his mind, Essik accepted every dark thing Caleb had ever done, and promised to help him figure out the dunamatic magic he needed to achieve his goals.

The Mighty Nein would love him; hell, the Mighty Nein already liked Essik, a lot. He was the first invited guest into their home, and Caleb imagined that it would not take much to invite him into the fold, the way they had done with Yeza. He would get teased, of course; “Cay-leb has a boy-friend~” Jester would sing, and Caleb would blush, but Essik would be beside him, squeezing his hand gently, and it would be worth it.

It just made Caleb wish the fantasy were real , that’s all.

“I suppose the only thing left to do is to tell the family,” Caleb smiled, shaking himself out of his daydream. “Mine and yours.”

“Tomorrow night,” Essik promised, suddenly solemn. “My Den is having a gathering tomorrow night. I--if you would do me the honor of escorting me, I thought we could make the announcement there. And you could meet my family, such as they are.”

“We need to talk more before then,” Caleb agreed, leaning down to lace his fingers with Essik’s. “Get our story straight, decide on what we want to tell them. It will be easier if we go in with a plan.”

“I’d love to,” Essik let go of his hand. “But not right this second. We’re hardly alone right now, darling.”

Caleb hadn’t noticed, but at some point in the past few minutes, Yeza Brenatto had opened the door to the library, and was staring at them sheepishly.

“So, you and Essik are getting married?”

“Ja.”

“But not for real?”

“Only...sort of for real?” Caleb shrugged, leaning back against the wall of the War Room. “It’s so Essik doesn’t have to go through with an arranged marriage.”

“Are you in love?” Jester asked, teasingly.

“If anyone asks, yes.” Caleb winked at her, conspiring. “We are trying to make it look convincing.”

“Because Essik’s mother is terrible?” Beau added. “And doesn’t want him to marry a boy?”

“She wants him to have children, yes. Whether she takes issue to him marrying a boy specifically, that I do not know.”

“That’s real shitty of her,” Beau practiced punching her fist into her palm.

Caleb nodded. “I agree. It’s part of why I’m helping him.”

“Do you even like boys?” Fjord asked, with genuine curiosity in his voice. “I’ve never known you to flirt with... hell , anybody, really.”

“I like boys,” Caleb confessed. “And girls. Generally, I like pretty people. I am not terribly picky when it comes to partners.”

“That’s what Molly used to say,” Yasha smiled sadly.

“Well, he was a smart person.” And a pretty one, Caleb thought but didn’t add.

“But you used to have a girlfriend.” Nott accused him.

He didn’t particularly want to talk about Astrid again. “And now I have a boyfriend. Husband. Fiance. Whatever,” Caleb waved them off. “We’re just pretending, anyway.”

“Cause Essik’s mom is a huge homophobe and we’re not about that?” Beau grinned, spinning around in her chair. “I’m into this plan.”

“Your involvement in this plan is minuscule.”

“Still into it.”

“Well, I’m happy for you, Mr. Caleb,” Caduceus smiled into his cup of tea. “I think you and Essik will make each other real happy.”

Caleb frowned at the firbolg. “We, ah, we are only pretending to be a couple, Mr. Clay.”

“Real happy,” Caduceus repeated, and with such seriousness that Caleb wondered if he spoke the truth, or if he knew something about the future that Caleb didn’t.

Yeza raised his hand in the air like a well-trained student, unlike the rest of the Mighty Nein who had talked all at once all over each other. “Mr. Caleb, sorry, but I have a question. Wouldn’t it be better for Mr. Essik to marry both Lady Olios and yourself? You said polyamory was a thing,” he shot a look that Caleb didn’t follow towards Nott. “Wouldn’t that solve the problem better? Then his mother wouldn’t be angry.”

“I believe that he doesn’t want to do that, so we’re not going to. But it’s a good suggestion if everything goes to shit.”

“Follow up question,” Beau raised her hand, mimicking Yeza. “Is Lady Olios hot, and can Essik introduce me to her?”

Caleb sighed. “ Beauregard.”

He didn’t get the chance to chastise her further. There was a knock on the door that then opened, revealing a slightly flustered Essik. “Sorry. I know I said I was leaving, and I am , but I had a thought,” he smiled at Caleb warmly, and walked over and kissed his cheek. “Hi babe.”

Caleb winced. “ Nein . I hate it.”

“Honey?” Essik tried instead while Jester cooed at them.

“Even worse.”

“Alright. No pet names,” Essik shrugged. “I just wanted to know, do you happen to have a cloth of some sort? Something with your family’s sigil on it? It should really have your den’s emblem on it, but I was under the impression the Empire didn’t really have Dens like the Dynasty does.”

“Ah,” Caleb looked down at his Essik’s bare wrist. “For your wrist, I assume.”

Essik raised an eyebrow. “To show that I am promised to another, yes.”

“I thought we weren’t meeting your family until tomorrow night.”

“We aren’t. But I thought wearing a band now would start the rumors going at least.”

Caleb didn’t look up from the floor, feeling his cheeks burn red, as they had so often in the drow’s presence. “I, uh, I do not have a family, Essik. So I do not have any sort of cloth with my family’s insignia on it. I don’t--”

“He has a clan, though,” Fjord interrupted him unexpectedly, standing tall. “ Us . The Mighty Nein. Would that work?”

Caleb felt a surge of pride rush up into his chest. He may not have a family anymore, but he had the Nein, and that was--that was something.

Essik raised a curious eyebrow. “Do you have a cloth with the Nein’s insignia on it?”

The seven individuals (plus Yeza) who made up the the Mighty Nein all shared a look. “Not right now,” Yasha spoke first. “But I can sew.”

That was a little unexpected, but the barbarian was full of many hidden talents.

“So can I!” Jester added.

“Excellent!” Essik beamed. “It doesn’t have to be large. About yea big. You can use mine as an example,” he held up Caleb’s wrist to show the band off, his thumb placing emphasis on the emblem of Den Theylas. “The important part is that people will see it and recognize that I’m being courted by a member of your Den.”

Jester and Yasha shared a look. “We can come up with something, Caleb!” Jester offered excitedly. “That way Essik has something to wear to show off the fact that he loves you and totally wants to be your husband and that you guys are going to get married and adopt like, all of the babies, and--”

Caleb held his hand up to cover his eyes. “Jester, there can be no dicks on it.”

(“What.” Essik asked with disbelief, his eyes going from his pretend fiance to Jester and back again. “ What?”)

The tiefling immediately deflated, collapsing back into her chair with a pout and her arms crossed. “Not even a little one? Just a teeney tiny little dick?” She tried to bargain, her fingers almost pressed together in simulation of the size. Caleb shook his head no, and she huffed in response. “What could we even use as a symbol for the great Den Mighty Nein if not a tiny dick?”

Essik nearly collapsed on the floor, he was laughing so hard. “A tiny dick!�� He laughed, his face a dark purple. “How scandalous! Truly, I’m marrying up in this world.”

Caleb scowled, his face still pink, and shoved his pretend fiance towards the door. “Go away. Go, do your job or something. Make enough money to support me and our nine adopted children.”

“ Nein ,” Essik howled, still laughing even as Caleb closed the door to the War Room behind him. (Or maybe it was “ Nine???” like the Shadowhand couldn’t possibly imagine his and Caleb’s imaginary union resulting in nine adopted children. It didn’t make a difference to Caleb.)

“Well, now I gotta sew a little dick on there,” Jester argued, leaning back dangerously in her chair, her arms still crossed sourly. “I’ve never seen him laugh before.”

Neither had Caleb. But he was eager to see it again.

“Are you sure about this, Caleb?” Yasha asked, questioning. “Marriage is a big deal. I know you can separate whenever you want,” she brushed her hand aside, like she didn’t quite believe what Caleb had told her. “But it’s still a big commitment. And it’s a big thing, living with someone. You really get to know them, the good and the bad.”

“I live with you all currently,” Caleb argued. “It hasn’t changed much.”

“It’s different, when you share a bedroom. And a bed,” Yasha continued. “I don’t think you are taking this seriously enough.”

“And I think all of you are underestimating what a boon it would be to have the Shadowhand’s favor,” Caleb glared a bit, leaning over the War Table. “We have been wanting to ally ourselves with the Krynn. This is just another way of doing that.”

Without speaking, Nott stood up and crawled onto the table. She walked across the War Room table, bare goblin feet trending on oak wood, until she stood face to face with Caleb. By standing on the table and with him leaning over, she was eye level with him in a way she normally wasn’t.

She took his face into her hands, and cradled it gently. “Caleb. You deserve to marry for love, sweetheart. Not political favor.”

“It’s sweet that you think anyone could ever love me, given what I’ve done,” he rested his forehead against hers.

“Caleb ,” She admonished, pulling away from him. “ I love you. Everyone here,” she gestured around to the others seated at the table. “Loves you. What makes you think that there isn’t someone out there who could love you, too? Romantically even?”

He pulled away from her further. “Nott. I’m going to marry Essik. I’m sorry if you disapprove--”

“On the contrary,” Nott interrupted him. “I like Essik. I like Essik for you, even. He’s a good boy who has supported us when we’ve needed him to. He’s smart, he’s handsome, he’s loyal. He’s everything I could ever want for you. But,” she reached out for him again. “You don’t love him, Caleb. And you deserve to have someone who loves you, like I love Yeza,” she looked back at her husband, who was smiling at her, full of pride.

“Nott has a point, Caleb,” Jester added, her voice a little sad and a little soft. “You should marry for love. In every book I’ve ever read, love is like, the greatest thing that’s out there, and Nott just made me really sad thinking that you don’t think you deserve to be loved? How could you?”

“Hang on just a second,” Fjord shook his head, a confused look on his face. “What are we even talking about love for, anyway? Caleb’s a grown man, and it’s his decision. He does Essik a solid by marrying him, and gets to learn fancy drow magic and we get in even better with the Bright Queen? I’m not seeing a downside.” Fjord rested his elbows on the table. “Maybe Caleb and Essik don’t love each other, but Essik doesn’t love this drow girl, either, and it’s not fair to make him have to get married to her if Caleb backs out of this.”

“Bingo,” Beau threw her thumb towards Fjord. “Essik’s been good to us. Better than we expected. We should help him if we can. I’m on team marry-the-pretty-drow-boy”

“I was too, until Nott started talking about how he should marry for love and stuff!” Jester argued.

“Regardless,” Caduceus stood up, scooting his chair back, towering over everyone at the table, including Nott who was still standing on the table. “It’s Caleb’s decision, ultimately. And we’ll support you, no matter what you decide.” He walked over to where Caleb was standing, and squeezed his shoulder firmly.

“I have already agreed to this,” Caleb held out his banded wrist for everyone to see, the symbol of his engagement to Essik on display. “I’m going to follow through with it.”

“Good for you,” Caduceus patted his shoulder again. “We leave for Nicodranas in five days. Do you think you’ll still be able to join us?”

“I should,” Caleb removed Caduceus’s hand from his shoulder. “I already told Essik that that was our plan.”

“Excellent!” Caduceus grinned. “I need more tea.”

With that, the large firbolg left the room, and one by one, the Mighty Nein followed, until only Caleb and Nott were still in the War Room.

“Nott---” He shook his head. “It likely won’t be forever. Either I’ll find someone, or more likely, Essik will, and we’ll separate. This is just one way I can help him and further my goals, all at once.”

“I know,” Nott said sadly, and patted his cheek again. “I just hope you don’t get your heart broken in the process.”

You could not break what you did not have, Caleb didn’t say. But he followed her out of the room regardless.

#critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essik theylas #mighty nein

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delible-ink · 4 years

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What Fate Might Be

for @claylebweek

Prompts 4 & 5: Heart to Heart, Fate/Destiny Snow blanketed the city in silence. Caduceus could smell the crisp freeze even before he looked up from his pillow to confirm it.

They wouldn’t be leaving the inn today. He found that comforting. Caduceus loved the changing of the seasons, and the things the trees said in their dreamy winter sleep. The thought of the world coming to a halt was particularly attractive at the moment, with Caleb wrapped around him, snoring softly under a heap of blankets.

It had been going on for a while now, but the excitement didn’t fade for Cad. At the Xhorhaus, as everyone began to turn in, Caleb would wait for Cad at the stairs, and ask if he’d like company. Caduceus always said yes. If Caleb needed to sleep in his own bed, he’d lace his fingers together with Caduceus’, and ask if he would like to stay a little longer, and offer to make breakfast with him in the morning. They’d scarcely spent a night apart in several months. More often than not, they just slept, the mere presence of each other all they needed. And when there was more,well, that was really nice too. Caduceus loved everything about his nights with Caleb, especially now that Caleb seemed to be moving past the need to constantly apologize for them.

It wasn’t until this trip that Caleb had been bold enough about their relationship to ask for a change of sleeping arrangements at an inn. Nott wasn’t surprised in the least, but felt it was her obligation as his best friend to loudly offer him a vial of her “Rhino Sex” potion since he would be rooming with his boyfriend. She waggled her eyebrows and grinned. Caduceus smiled to himself. He’d never seen Caleb blush that fast or that fiercely before.

Now that blush was gone, replaced by a gentle tinge of pink beneath the dusting of freckles across his face, warm in his bed against the winter world outside. Caduceus marveled at the softness that overtook his Caleb when he slept. *My Caleb? Hmm...I wonder when that started.* Caduceus ruminated on the idea. Caleb was his friend, his love, his to protect and his to serve, and he wholeheartedly belonged to Caleb, as much as he belonged to Melora.

*I guess that is what love does, in a way. It makes you belong to each other.*

Caduceus warmed at the thought. Slowly, as carefully as possible, he slipped out of bed. Of course, Caleb still woke up. His hand shot out defensively, as it so often did when something unexpected woke him. Cad hoped eventually he’d learn to feel safe, and let himself rest entirely when he slept. “It’s just me, Cay. Just me.” Cad knelt and smoothed back Caleb’s hair. Caleb’s tension melted and he blinked bleary-eyed at Caduceus. “I was going to bring us some breakfast, and coffee. Go back to sleep.” Caleb mumbled something in Zemnian, the only parts of which Caduceus understood were something about coffee, and “love you.” Caduceus grinned. Caleb was far more verbal in his affections before breakfast, probably because he wasn’t awake enough to be secretive with them. Caduceus was determined to learn Zemnian, if only to understand more of those mutterings.

Caduceus dressed and padded down the stairs, giddy with his half-formed plans for the day. He greeted the inn-keeper warmly, and convinced her to let him make breakfast to take back to his room, offering to help her get an early start on breakfast for the other guests.

An hour or so later, Caduceus was humming to himself carrying a tray full of steaming potatoes, eggs and scallions, a small pot of coffee, and a pot of tea. He’d even brought cream and sugar. Caleb liked cream and sugar in his coffee, but very rarely accepted it, except on special occasions. Caduceus felt this morning was plenty special for it. The sight of Caleb, half-asleep and smiling, melted Caduceus. He set the tray down on the nightstand and removed his shirt. He needed to feel that skin against his own. Sliding under the blankets, he wrapped Caleb snugly in his arms, and covered his head in soft, delighted kisses. “Good morning, sweetness.” he rumbled. “Mmm. Good morning to you. I see you brought presents--are the others awake? I did not think we would have time for our own breakfast.” “We’re not going further today, love. Snowstorm last night. Looks like it’s still going.” Caleb felt a twinge of anxiety in his gut: they had been following a lead in their investigations on the Cerberus Assembly. He feared anything that might slow them down. Caduceus tugged him back from his thoughts “I was hoping...you might spend the day with me? It’s not often we get a break like this.” “I...I should do research. I should do...something.” He sat up, and almost immediately realized how foolish he sounded. He had a room to himself with the dearest man in the world, breakfast beside them, and Caduceus practically begging not to waste the opportunity. But Caleb was torn: the Assembly was his responsibility. His story. What if they lost their chance? What if resting today cost them some crucial piece of information? Cad saw the worry in his brow. “You know, Caleb, maybe today is a gift. Maybe a little rest, a little time just to ourselves is exactly what we need. It could give us the clarity to focus on the task ahead tomorrow.” Caleb looked across the room, watching the snow fall in heaps. He listened to the stillness as Cad continued. “No one is going to do business in that. No library research, no shopping, certainly no travel.” Cad reached a hand out and stroked his thumb over Caleb’s knee. “Maybe Someone, Something, is telling us it is time to wait.” Caleb smirked as he cocked an eyebrow “You believe Melora is guiding the weather so that you and I can stay in bed together all day? That is the kind of thing gods design for us?” “Honestly, she’s done weirder things than that this week alone. I wouldn’t say it’s beyond the scope of her guidance.” Caleb reached for the bowls of breakfast and handed one to Caduceus. “Your god has a peculiar notion of importance if our romantic endeavors are the fate she is most concerned with.” He took a bite. “Mmm. Cad, this is incredible.” Cad grinned “Divine, even, Mr. Caleb?” “Do not use breakfast against me like that. It is very unkind...but I do believe you had her help with the potatoes.” Caduceus laughed. It was easier these days, to distract Caleb from his worry. Not always, but for the most part, easier.Caleb looked to the tray and saw the coffee waiting for him. He eyed the cream and sugar. “Caduceus, you did not have to...” Cad turned and began adding cream until it was the rich caramel color Caleb liked, and two spoons of sugar. “No, I didn’t have to. But I wanted to.” He leaned forward and kissed Caleb’s cheek as he handed him the mug, and took up his own cup of tea. “Is it going to worry you? Staying here today?” Caleb shrugged, and sipped his coffee. “Ja. I mean...Caduceus, I know what these people can do. The sooner we can stop them, the more lives we save.” Caduceus nodded. “Unless we can’t.” “What do you mean can’t? I don’t see any other way. We have to stop them.” “I agree. I...what they’ve done, what Trent alone has done to you is enough for me to agree on that. But, if now isn’t the time, we could end up dead, the Assembly hides our deaths or smoothes it over. No one ever learns the things they’ve done, and they continue the same as before. Fate has a way of working things out in its own time. I believe we’re working within that design, towards it, where we can. Maybe we are being given today, to love each other, to enjoy each other...but it may have more purpose than that. It might provide an advantage we need in the long run to stop the Cerberus Assembly. We will have to see.” Caleb sighed, and looked out the window. “I do not think Fate is so benevolent a creature with me as it is to you, Caduceus.” “Mmm. Maybe, Mr. Caleb.”

For a little while they sat in silence, soaking up the steam from their mugs, pondering what the other had said. It was Caduceus who spoke first. “Do you remember what you said to me, that first night back in Zedash, Caleb?” Caleb set down his empty mug and looked at Caduceus. “Which part?” “You said ‘Caduceus Clay, we are your destiny.’” Caleb gave a weak smile. “I was drunk.” “Yes. But you were also right. If you hadn’t come around, I would still be in a graveyard, unable to stop the corruption encroaching on my home, unsure of my direction, of what had become of my family...still believing I had been abandoned by the Wildmother. I would be completely alone.”

Caleb winced. Caduceus rarely spoke of his time tending the Blooming Grove on his own. He had only mentioned his crisis of faith one other time to Caleb, and he knew how much it pained Cad. He knew how much his lover feared the possibility of living in isolation, of being forgotten, unwanted, unloved. He shifted on the bed to hug Caduceus around the middle as Cad propped his head back against the headboard.

“You saved me, and it has meant so many things on a grand scale: the battles we’ve fought, the war we’ve shifted, the answers we’ve started to find, and those things are all very important, world changing even. But what they mean on the smaller scale of my brief existence, I think that matters too. They get tied together.” Cad hugged Caleb and tried to find the words he wanted. It was so much harder to articulate this than to just trust it, to just believe. “You are my destiny, for the big parts and for the small parts. I’m glad I was on the path you chose, and I guess, I just wanted to say that today...could be another one of those paths.”

Caleb turned Caduceus’ words over in his mind. He could see how much he had changed since he met the Mighty Nein, and even more, how much he’d changed since meeting Caduceus, learning to fall in love again, to be loved, in ways he never had. It was not something he would have chosen for himself, and yet here he was. It was a kindness far beyond what he expected or deserved. There was certainly something “other” about that, and fate is a way one could put it.

“I would like to go with your version of today then, Caduceus. I’ll trust you with that fate.”

#clayleb week #claylebweek2019 #clayleb fanfic

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moiraineswife · 5 years

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A Dream of Spring - A Yester Fic

I’M BACK!!! Back with a gay vengeance!! I’m all caught up on campaign 2, and the result is this fic!!

Title: A Dream of Spring

Summary: After Yasha confessed the sad truth of why she left her home, and what happened to her wife, Zuella, Jester uses her creativity and her new magical paint to make something to cheer her up. Jester's POV, some introspection and insight, and a smidge of Jester's thoughts on the rest of the Nein. because Jester is insightful af, in her own way, and I wanted to tap into that.

Teaser: “Do you- Do you think Zuella would like me?” Yasha thought for a moment, her features softening as she did so, “I think that she would,” she said, finally. “She liked things that made me happy. And you make me happy, Jester.”

Link: AO3

Jester bounced onto her bed, legs crossed, and pulled her sketchbook towards her. She would have to draw for the Traveller all she had seen with Yasha, and the lightning ball, and how she had looked up in the mast, storm winds whipping her hear around her, those huge big skeletal wings blossoming behind her. It would be awesome, and she knew the Traveller would appreciate it, but she had something to do first.

Careful as she could be, Jester pulled out her special pot of paint and the special paintbrush they had found on the ship with the grumpy guy, and the deckhand she had so beautifully tattooed.

Tongue between her teeth, she began to create.

She concentrated as she had never concentrated before. This was important. She had to make it perfect. Every line, every detail, every stroke of colour was expertly crafted as she allowed the process to carry her away, as it had done so many times before.

This time, though, she kept herself anchored on Yasha.

She thought of her eyes, mismatched as they were, and the emotion in them when she had spoken of her wife.

A lot of people thought Yasha looked really scary with her big, bulging muscles, and that crazy huge sword she had. Jester had always thought there was something about her that looked sad. Now she knew what that was. But there was a softness in her, too, even after everything she had been through. It was in the eyes that you could see it, and Jester drew on that as she painted feverishly.

Halfway through her blooming masterpiece, she heard a familiar voice in her ear.

“What are you doing here, my Jester? Is this another gift for me?” The Traveller had come to her.

He had always been drawn in by her intense bursts of creativity. When she was little, he had told her there was power in it, in her imagination, her drive, her focus and passion. Now that she had her magic paint, there really was, and Jester knew just what to do with it.

“No, it’s not for you, Traveller,” she said, not looking up from what she was doing, but he expected that, so it was okay. He knew her, knew how consumed she could get by her painting. “I hope you don’t mind, but my friend Yasha is feeling sad right now, and I want to cheer her up.”

“Not at all. This is a great gift you have, the gift to make people smile, and feel good about themselves, about you. You should use it. But never forget-“

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” she cut in, shaking her head and smiling, knowing what he was going to say. “You’ll always be my favourite!” he could be silly like that sometimes, always asking her that. He was her best friend! He had to know that by now.

“Very good,” he said, silkily, lightly caressing her hair with his hand. “Paint something pretty for me when you’re done, won’t you?” He said.

“Of course!” she replied brightly.

“She’s lonely, you know, my friend Yasha,” Jester explained as she painted. “She needs someone to be her friend, like I needed you when you found me,” she thought he would be pleased by that, how well she had learned from him. “I suppose she has her Storm Lord,” she mused, suddenly thoughtful, absently chewing on the end of her brush while she worked. “But I don’t think he seems very friendly if you know what I mean,” she added, continuing.

Jester cocked her head to one side, screwing up her memory, trying to picture exactly what she was painting in her mind’s eye, making sure she had every detail.

As she did, she continued to talk to the Traveller. He liked hearing all about her, he always had, even when no-one else had listened to her, he always had. She could tell him anything.

“Beau told me she was lonely when she was little, too,” she went on quietly, feeling sad as she thought about it. Her melancholy seemed to bleed into her piece as the bright blues, and turquoises of Beau’s robes began putting colour into her work.

“I think we’re all lonely, and lost, in different ways,” she said, softly. “Yasha lost her wife, and her home, and her tribe and just everything before the Storm Lord found her.”

She darkened the colour of her paint, and began using it to create shadows, and depth to her piece. Without that darkness, the drawing looked false, and hollow. When she had been little, she had only wanted to use the brightest of colours, without the ones that made her feel sad, the dark, cold colours. But she had grown up, and she knew now that life, like her art, needed that darkness, and those shadows, were necessary to make the bright colours pop and matter.

“Caduceus’ home is sick,” she went on,” and the colour softened as she thought of her new firbolg friend. The soft pastel greens and pinks melded with Yasha’s dark shadows, lightening them, and gentling them.

“He’d never even left it before!” she exclaimed, trying to imagine what it might have been like to live her whole life in a graveyard full of dead people, trying to find the beauty and the creativity in that. But Caduceus had done it, she supposed, he’d done it well.

“He lived his whole life just in that graveyard, I mean, even I got to see Nicodranus when I was little. The world must feel so big to him, even though he’s quite big, the world is much bigger. He must miss his home, and his family, just like I miss my mama.”

She frowned slightly as she thought of her mum. She was glad they had helped her, and taken care of the mean guy that had been harassing her, but she was sad they hadn’t been able to spend more time together.

Taking a deep breath, she made herself keep talking to the Traveller about her friends, rather than feeling sad about her mother. “Fjord lost his ship,” she said, and the soft pastel greens she had started with Caduceus darkened, and the deep sapphire blue of the ocean began to bleed in. “And he lost all his crew, and his friends, and he doesn’t seem to know what to do now,” she said, drawing out sweeping wave-like shapes of green, and blue, and gold.

“Nott drinks quite a lot, because she’s afraid a lot, and that makes her feel brave,” she went on, the deep, rich ambers of her favourite liquors, and the mead they’d bought, and the bright golds, and silvers of the coins and trinkets she loved so much.

“Sometimes I think about what might have made her so afraid that she had to leave her home, and her clan, and everything,” Jester went on, shaking her head, “She’s so little, but she tries to take good care of all of us, and I wonder if that’s because no-one ever really took care of her.”

“And Caleb...” she said, sighing softly, “When I look into his eyes, I see ghosts,” she murmured, shivering slightly, in spite of the bright burning yellows, and oranges, and reds of his fire now filled her painting. “I don’t know who they are, or what happened to them, but they obviously haut him, and hurt him quite a lot.”

“And then we all lost Molly,” she said, sadly, as the lavender of his skin poured from her brush, followed by the whole rainbow that had been contained in his coat, and his laugh, and his love for soul, finally breathing real life into the piece. “He was a good man, a good friend, I liked him a lot. I still think about him, and get sad about him. But I don’t think he’d approve of that, so I try not to be but...It’s hard sometimes.”

She took a deep breath, moving to finish the piece, the details, drawing on everything she was thinking, and feeling.

“Losing people is hard. Sometimes I think maybe my mama was right, and I would have been better staying at home, where it was safe, and I couldn’t get hurt by people leaving, like she was...”She trailed off, thinking about all of her friends being sad was making her sad.

But then she brightened, a smile sparking across her face again, “We all needed a friend, and that’s why we found each other, and we’re all better now that we’re together.”

She looked down at what she was making, and though it made her sad, she was pleased that she could do it, and that there were friends in her life to do it for.

“Thank you,” she said in a small voice, looking up for the first time since she had started, “For helping me to find them.”

But he had gone.

The room was empty, but she knew he had heard. He was always with her.

Smiling, Jester redoubled her efforts and watched the paint glow before it popped into existence. She stared down at it, and smiled, proud of herself.

Getting up from her bed, she crept out of her cabin and along the hall as quietly as she could so as not to wake the others. When she got there, she saw a pale glow flickering from under Yasha’s door. She was still awake, as she had hoped.

“Yasha?” she called softly, knocking on the door. “Don’t worry, it’s only me, Jester, I promise I’m not a scary lightning ball in disguise!”

After the events of the day, she felt Yasha might need that reassurance. But then, if she was a scary lightning ball in disguise that would be exactly what she would say.

Yasha didn’t seem to share that particular worry, however, because all she said was, “You can come in.”

Jester pushed the door ope, wincing slightly as the old hinges creaked. Avantika really hadn’t taken good care of her boat.

A single candle was flickering on a low table. Yasha was curled up, knees tucked against her chest, gazing out of the window at the distant storm that was disappearing into the distance. Lightning flashed, illuminating her face, making her look momentarily like some kind of heavenly angel that had gotten lost and begun walking among mortals. Then it passed, and she looked just like Yasha again.

When Jester sat down on the bed beside her and said, “I have something for you,” Yasha turned to look at her.

Jester thought her eyes looked red, as though she had been crying, but obviously she wasn’t going to say that. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with crying, especially if you were sad, but she knew Yasha would be embarrassed and she didn’t want to do that.

“You do?” Yasha said, blinking owlishly at her.

“Well,” Jester said, biting her lip and considering the matter, “I suppose technically it’s for Zuella? But it’s also for you to give to Zuella so...”

Having successfully confused herself into a corner, blushing, Jester thrust the flowers at Yasha without warning.

Yasha stared down at it while Jester chewed harder on her lip, suddenly hit by a wave of uncertainty about whether or not she had done the right thing.

She watched Yasha trace the edge of one of the delicate blossoms with a large finger, her touch surprisingly gentle. She could see grief, and sorrow, and something like awe in Yasha’s face, but she didn’t know what that meant about her gift.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Jester burst out, “Do you like them?”

Yasha looked up at her slowly, away from the bouquet in her hands and blinked.

“I- Where- How did you get these?” she asked, frowning in confusion.

“I used my magic paint,” Jester replied in a small voice.

“You did that- You made this for me?” she mumbled in quiet disbelief.

“Should I not have?” Jester said, “Oh! Oh, I made you more upset, didn’t I?” she exclaimed, clapping her hands over her mouth, “I was trying to cheer you up, I thought it would make you happy, but-“

“No,” Yasha interrupted, quietly but firmly, “No it did, I just...I can’t believe that you would do this for me.”

“Well of course,” Jester said, reaching out tentatively and placing her hand on Yasha’s shoulder. “You’re my friend, Yasha,” she said, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “So you like them?” she blurted out, unable to stop herself.

“I do,” Yasha said, softly, still touching the delicate flower blossoms with wonder, “Thank you, Jester.”

“You’re welcome, Yasha.”

Then she saw Yasha frowning slightly, picking through the bouquet and examining the different types of flowers in the bunch. She bit her lip, hoping she would notice what she had done.

“These are...Molly’s flowers, aren’t they?” she said, softly, “From his tattoo?”

Jester nodding, growing more serious, “Yes, all the ones that were on his tattoo. I thought, maybe, this way, you could take him with you when you go to see Zuella next. I thought you’d like to tell her about him.”

A soft, sad smile tugged at Yasha’s lips as he nodded and said, “Yes, I would. I do not think she would know what to make of him.”

“He was a lot,” Jester agreed, nodding again, “But he was good, and he was your friend.”

“He was. He is,” Yasha said.

“Maybe!” Jester burst out, “Maybe they’re together right now, Zuella and Molly. And he’s, like, reading her fortune, and showing off with his swords, and making her laugh?”

“Perhaps,” Yasha murmured, slowly, “Yes, I would like that.”

“Then that’s how it is,” Jester said with finality.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” Yasha said, quietly.

“What?”

“The best. About everything. And everyone,” Yasha said, looking al ittle baffled by this attitude.

“Well, sure,” Jester said, shrugging, “I mean, I could think the worst all the time, but that would just make me sad, and I don’t like being sad. I would rather be happy!”

Yasha was smiling softly, “I would tell her about you, too, Jester.”

Jester gasped, delighted, clapping her hands together, “What would you tell her? I mean, you’d have to tell her I helped you get some flowrs, and that I’m a really great cleric, and about the Traveller, and my painting, and that I’m really, really pretty, and really cool, and like, one of the best people you know, and-“

“You are one of the best people I know, Jester,” Yasha said, softly, but so sincerely that she stopped mid-flow.

“I mean, I do not know very many people,” Yasha added, frowning slightly, “But I think even if I did, you would still be one of the best people I know.”

“Thanks, Yasha,” Jester said quietly, for once not able to think of anything else to say. “Do you- Do you think Zuella would like me?”

Yasha thought for a moment, her features softening as she did so, “I think that she would,” she said, finally. “She liked things that made me happy. And you make me happy, Jester.” She smiled softly, picked up her book, and began carefully tucking all of the flowers inside.

“I’m really sorry that she died, Yasha,” Jester said, softly. “I bet she was really cool.”

“She was,” Yasha said, nodding, half-sad, half-happy.

“And I want you to know, too,” Jester went on, more serious than she’d been so far, taking Yasha’s hand between both of her own as she spoke. Yasha blinked, looking a little surprised, but did not pull away. “I know that you lost Zuella, and then we- we all lost Molly,” her voice faltered a little bit, but she kept strong, and said what she wanted to say. “But you’re not alone.”

Yasha’s expression softened a little as she said this, and that gave her the encouragement to keep going.

“We’re all here, me, and Fjord, and Caleb, and Nott, and Beau, and Caduceus, and his tea,” Yasha smiled again. “We’re your friends now. And we can’t bring Zuella or Molly back, and we can’t replace them or anything but...But you’re not alone.”

“I wanted to be,” Yasha said, softly, “For a very long time, I wanted to. I did not want people close to me again. Molly changed that for me. I think he knew that I needed people again.”

“He was a pretty smart guy about things like that,” Jester agreed.

“And he brought m to you all, and I will always be grateful to him for that,” Yasha went on. Jester had never heard her speak as much as she had done today, but she knew that she needed this, too, and kept herself quiet, letting her talk. “Even though he left...” She trailed off for a moment, swallowed, then went on, “He taught me that no matter what has happened in my past, I cannot let it stop me from living now.”

Jester nodded, “I think Molly taught us all that,” she said. “And,” she added, resting her head gently on Yasha’s shoulder, and looping her tail around her waist and squeezing gently, “I don’t think that Molly or Zuella would want you to be sad about them forever.”

“That is true,” Yasha nodded. “Zuella would want me to be happy. That was always what she wanted for me.”

She smiled and awkwardly gripped Jester’s hand, half squeezing it, half shaking it, her calluses rough against Jester’s skin.

“And I’m glad the Storm Lord saved you and brought you to us. Hey!” she exclaimed suddenly, making Yasha jump a little, “Wouldn’t it be cool if, like, the Traveller and the Storm Lord knew each other, and they were like best friends, and they talked about us, and they were like, we should totally have Yasha and Jester meet and be best friends, too, because that would be really cool!”

“That would be really cool,” Yasha agreed in that slow, solemn way of hers.

They both smiled together for a moment, then Jester, suddenly serious again, asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

Yasha rested her other hand on top of her closed book and said, “I think so, yes. Thank you for everything you have done for me, Jester. For the flowers, and, and for listening.”

“You’re very welcome!” she said, “And,” she added, leaning in and speaking behind her hand, as though they were both spies, or something, “If you ever want an awesome tattoo, you just let me know because I’m, like, totally an expert now.”

“Are you really?” Yasha said, seeming genuinely interested.

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, “Orley has been teaching me for like a whole week now, and I was a complete natural, and an awesome artist to begin with, so yeah I’m amazing already!”

“Well, I think that I am okay with the ones I already have for right now,” Yasha said, seriously, “But if that changes, I will let you know.”

“You have tattoos already?” Jester gasped out.

“I do,” Yasha said, her eyes twinkling slightly, “Ask me tomorrow and I might show them to you.”

“Okay!” Jester said, feeling excited for that already, “I guess we should really sleep now, huh?” she added, suddenly realising how tired she was.

“It is very late,” Yasha said, “And it has been quite a long day.”

“Yeah. But if you need anything else, though, you just let me know, alright?” she said, trying to sound stern, and like Nott did when she was taking care of everyone.

“I will. Thank you, Jester.”

They both stood, Yasha hovering awkwardly, half-lifting her arms, then dropping them again, looking unsure.

Jester, however, knew just what to do, and bounced forward, saying, “Oh! It’s okay, Yasha, you don’t have to be shy! You can hug me if you want to! I’m a really great hugger.”

She didn’t give Yasha time to do more than open her mouth before pulling her into a big bear hug. Yasha stiffened momentarily, as though she had again forgotten what contact that wasn’t driven by violence felt like. Then she relaxed and patted Jester awkwardly on the back.

“Well, good night, Yasha!” Jester trilled, brightly, moving towards the door.

“Good night, Jester,” Yasha replied, quiet and composed.

Jester paused in the doorway and said, with a rather mischievous smile on her face, “I got some really great honeycombs in town today, and tomorrow, wer’re going to eat them both for breakfast to cheer you up some more! So get ready for that!”

And with that, she closed the door to Yasha’s cabin and skipped back to her own, satisfied that her work here was now done.

***

#critical role #critical role fic #yasha nydoorin #jester lavorre #yester #jester x yasha #cr2 #yester fic #my fic #the traveller #the mighty nein #nott the brave #caleb widogast #fjord #beauregard #caduceus clay #they're all mentioned/meta'd on by jester soooo!#ENJOY Y'ALL

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moonblooch · 5 years

Link

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning : No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series)

Characters: Fjord (Critical Role), Jester Lavorre, Caleb Widogast, Nott (Critical Role), Mollymauk Tealeaf, Yasha (Critical Role), Beauregard (Critical Role)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, based loosely around the time of the sequel trilogy, dubious usage of star wars canon slang, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Language: English

Fjord, Jester and Beau crash land on the planet of Trostenwald and get a whole crew for the price of one mechanic.

“So Fjord, what exactly are we looking for?” Jester asked.

They were stood in the doorway of a small cantina on Trostenwald, surveying the scattered patrons. The place was fairly empty, though the breakfast rush would likely end that soon; if they could get in and out before that happened.

“Well Jester, I was thinking we need someone to repair our ship.”

She nodded, eyes cast down. “I’m really, really sorry about the ship Fjord.”

The image of the ground rushing up to meet them flashed through Fjord’s mind.

“It’s fine Jess, I’ve seen worse landings than that. Besides, I’m sure Beau’ll have everything upright by the time we’re back.”

They walked to the counter, where a harried looking human was wiping down every surface with all of the enthusiasm of someone about to finish her shift. She paused, looking up as they approached.

“How can I help you dears? What can I get you?”

“Just some rations for now I’m afraid.” Fjord replied, swinging himself onto a stool. “And some information about the area if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course, I’ll sort your food first; you look like you’ve had a hell of a jump to get here.”

Once more Fjord recalled his scream as they shot through the atmosphere.

“You could certainly say that. Speaking of,” he leaded forward, “you wouldn’t happen to know any decent mechanics would you?”

“Rough landing huh? We get plenty of those round here.” She said sliding a ration cube to each of them. “That’ll be five credits love.”

Fjord handed held out a credit chip and she scanned it with a handheld which was probably older than she was.

“As for your mechanic, well, you didn’t hear it from me,” she whispered, leaning in, “but that man in the corner might be your best shot. He’s an offworlder, not guild affiliated or anything; that’s why I’m not telling you this, but I’ve heard that he’s good and doesn’t ask questions. People have been singing his praises since he got here.”

Fjord followed her minute gesture to the corner-booth, where a scruffy looking man was hunched over a mug of caf. He had a lolth-cat sat on the bench next to him which seemed to be doing its best to stick its head into his mug, but had yet so succeed. He appeared to be conversing with someone, out of view from their angle.

“Are you sure?” Jester asked, a little louder than would have been ideal. “He looks like a slythmonger or something.”

“Sure as those tails on your head miss; he fixed the caf-dispenser just this morning. It used to make this awful screeching noise. I don’t know what you’ve got that needs fixing but I’m pretty sure I heard him talking to an Azumel about an old Hunter last night and he seemed to know his stuff.”

Fjord found himself nodding.

“Do you know what his rate is?”

She gave a light shrug.

“He just asked for two decent breakfasts when he fixed the caf machine for me, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“Maybe we could take some food, you know, to get him to talk to us?” Jester suggested. Turning back to the human she asked, “Hey, do you have any feen?”

“I’m afraid not miss, but I’ve got a sack of mallow powder out back that I’ve been trying to shift for ages if you’re after something sweet. It’s yours for ten credits.”

“Done!” Jester replied, brandishing her credit chip. Her freshly forged credit chip, if Fjord recognised it. He held his breath as the scanner ran over it, but seemed to detect nothing amiss.

“Alright then miss, I’ll just go get that for you. If anyone comes in could you let them know I won’t be long?”

At Jester’s nod she slipped through a door behind the bar. Fjord placed a light hand on Jester’s shoulder.

“I’m going to go talk to this guy, alright? Come over when you’ve got the mallow powder.”

Jester nodded again, sending him off with a wave. As Fjord approached, the man at the table seemed to tense up, curling in on himself with each step that Fjord took towards him.

“Excuse me,” Fjord began when he finally drew level with the booth, “d’you mind if I join you for a bit?”

“There are other tables.” Came a voice from the hunched figure sitting across from the man and his lolth-cat. They were small, smaller than most children even, although their voice fairly clearly demonstrated that this was not the case, and had a hood pulled over their face.

“Einfach da, Nott.” The man said, before turning to Fjord. “What is it you were wanting to talk about?”

“Ah, I apologise if I’m interrupting anything. I’m looking for a mechanic and I heard you might be able to help with that.”

“Maybe so, what is it that you need fixing?”

“Well, uh, my crew and I just landed and on our way back to realspace we encountered a few technical issues. I was hoping you’d maybe be able to take a look at them.”

“I would certainly be able to look at it, aber I imagine you would want for me to fix it if there is something wrong.” The man stroked his chin. “I would not be unwilling to do this, but you will understand if I am widerwillig to do this for a person who has not yet introduced themselves.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Fjord held a hand out, “my name’s –”

“Fjord!” Jester called, staggering over to the booth almost entirely hidden behind the colossal sack of mallow powder she was holding. “Look at how much I got us! Do you think we can fit this in the kitchen?”

She set the sack down on the table with an audible thump.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, peering around the sack, “I really like your cat! Can I pet him? What’s he called? Oh, and what’s your name?”

A smile settled across the man’s features.

“You shouldn’t have asked him that.” The hunched figure on the other side of the table groused. “He barely talks about anything except that cat as it is.”

“Hush, you.” The man replied, scratching the lolth-cat behind its ears and turning to face Jester. “His name is Frumpkin, and you can pet him as long as he allows it. My name is Caleb Widogast.”

He offered a hand to Jester, and that was when Fjord noticed that his arms were wrapped almost entirely in medical tape. A few of the pieces were trailing, having come unstuck, and it seemed to be stained in several places, though it was impossible to tell if these were from injuries or the sort of fluids which occurred in machinery.

“I’m Jester.” Jester replied, taking his hand with both of hers. “This is Fjord. Can you please help us with our ship?”

He seemed to consider for a moment.

“I will ansehen it but if you would like for me to fix it then I shall need something in return.”

“What was that word?” Jester asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard it before, ans-han?”

“Oh.”

Caleb reached into one of the many pockets on his jacket, this one close to the lapel, and pulled out a tiny four-sided pyramid. Each side sported several flickering lights, and a seam along one edge was cracked open just widely enough to reveal the circuits inside. Caleb blew into this, then examined it for a moment. Seeming satisfied he returned it to its correct pocket.

“Malfunctioning translator, sorry.” He said, attention once more on Jester. “It is an old one, I had to do a lot of the fine-tuning myself, so it can sort of, er, glitch I think is the best word, if I speak too fast or put stress on a word. I do speak Basic, but the dialect I learned to speak is unfortunately rather specific, a translator saves a lot of explaining you know?”

“Oh, I understand.” Jester replied, tapping her headband. “The translator in here makes my voice a little strange too sometimes. And there are some words it just doesn’t get, you know?”

“Absolutely, idioms are a gottsverdamnt nightmare with this thing. As is cursing. What I was trying to say was that I would take a look at your ship and that we could take it from there, yes?”

“Well sure.” Fjord replied. “What’s your price?”

“That would depend on what needs fixing, but my friend and I,” Caleb gestured between himself and Nott, “need safe transport off this planet. It must be discreet. Can you provide that?”

“We can certainly try, where are you reckoning on going?”

“Anywhere in the outer rim.” Nott answered. “Further out than here at least, if not all the way out.”

“We can talk about the specifics when we are in a more private setting.” Caleb added. “But first, I would like to see this ship of yours.”

He drained the last of his caf and stood, still remarkably hunched over (though this was presumably not helped by the fact that the lolth-cat draped itself across his shoulders). Nott scrambled her way onto the table in order to help him strap some sort of pack to his back, allowing Fjord to get a closer look at her.

As widely travelled as he liked to assume that he was, Fjord had to admit that he had never seen anyone who looked quite like she did. Her hooded robe seemed to be covering her almost entirely, but what slivers of skin were visible were green (lighter than his own, but still very much green). Each hand appeared to have four fingers, unless she was wearing unusual gloves, and the lower half of her face was covered by a mask. If Fjord was pushed to guess, he would have said that it was a breath mask, but it was not visibly attached to any kind of tank. Over the top of this mask peered two amber eyes, constantly darting about the room as if she was expecting something to jump out at any second.

Once Nott had secured the final clasp, Caleb gathered up a second bag and slid out of the booth, offering Nott a hand to guide her down from the table.

“Well,” he said, looking to Fjord, “lead on.”

Jester kept up a constant stream of chatter on their way back to the ship, holding the sack of mallow powder in one arm and excitedly gesturing with the other. She stopped when Nott held up a hand.

“We’re being followed.” She hissed, turning slowly to face the direction they had just come from. Fjord followed her gaze, seeing two figures behind them and moving closer with purpose. He felt his hand twitch, almost involuntarily, but managed to keep it still. There was no need for that sort of scene yet.

Of the two figures approaching them, only one could have passed for human. Perhaps they were human, but something about their proportions, the slightly lumbering way that they were moving, suggested otherwise. The other was most likely chiss, though a lot closer to purple than average. They had been talking to their taller companion, but stopped abruptly when they noticed that Fjord was looking at them.

“Well hello there.” They called, slight accent betraying the use of a translator, as they strolled towards their group. “Not to be rude, but I believe that we overheard that you might be heading off planet soon. Got room for two more?”

Fjord fought the urge to close his hand again.

“We can pay.” The larger of the two said, not caring to elaborate.

“And we’re handy with most any weapon you can think up, if you need that sort of thing.” The chiss said, a smirk catching the corners of their mouth. “The name’s Mollymauk by the way, probably should have led with that. Mollymauk Tealeaf, Molly to my friends, and the delightful lady beside me is Yasha.”

Yasha gave them a nod.

“I’m Jester, this is Fjord,” Jester answered before Fjord had a chance to come up with a halfway decent alias, “and this is Caleb and Nott.”

“Why do you need off-world so badly?” Nott asked. “We can’t take someone who’s got troopers after them.”

“I think I’ll decide who I allow on my ship Nott.” Fjord interjected. “But is there anything we oughta know about before we consider your request?”

“We came here with the circus a few days ago, and we need off-world because one of the other performers seemed to think that the locals wouldn’t notice if he ate someone.” Yasha said, in a voice flatter than the statement truly deserved.

“You were travelling with cannibals?” Caleb asked, slowly starting to walk again. Fjord followed suit, noticing Jester and Nott do the same out of the corner of his eye.

Mollymauk shrugged as Yasha and they followed.

“A cannibal, and, in Kylre’s defence, I don’t think it technically counts as cannibalism. It’s not as if the victim was the same species.”

“If you guys were with the circus, does that mean you can do anything cool?” Jester asked, presumably not overly bothered by what was definitely cannibalism, species be doshed.

“Yasha can scream like a fleft-wauf, the resemblance is uncanny. You ever want to see an entire bar of people shit themselves in the space of three seconds? She’s the one for the job.”

Yasha rolled her eyes, which Fjord could now see were a peculiar shade of pink.

“He can tell fortunes.” She said. “I think that’s more impressive.”

“Ooh, how does that work?” Jester asked.

“I attune myself to the Force and reach into the future of the person I’m reading for.” Molly answered.

“That is not how the Force works.” Caleb muttered.

“Oh but it is.” Molly grinned, argument clearly already prepared. “I would know; my ancestors were a secret sect of the Jedi order, I’ve even got the sabres to prove it.”

He swept his coat back to reveal two cylindrical objects, which might have been lightsabres but which Fjord could not see well enough to tell before Nott shot forward to tug the coat closed again.

“Put those away! Are you trying to get us killed?” she hissed, looking about them frantically. “Honestly, you kids these days think just because that di’kut Vessar took out Darth Thordak with one of those things it’s like order sixty six never happened.”

“Folks, could we maybe talk about the particulars when we get back to the ship.” Fjord whispered. “Ain’t exactly a safe conversation topic when we’re out in the open like this; not on a planet this close to the Interior.”

Molly raised his hands in surrender.

“Of course, my apologies.”

They made their way back to the ship without much further trouble, and if Fjord was paying more attention to every Stormtrooper they passed then none of the others remarked on it. What they did remark on, once it came into view, was The Mistake.

The Mistake was a Far*Reach IV PQR, which had been modded to high hell at some point in its younger days. Maker only knew what half the mods had been for; it wasn’t as if any of them worked any more, and nor did most of the guns, hence the name.

“That’s your ship?” Mollymauk asked, eyebrows fast approaching his hairline. “I’ve never seen anything so obviously stolen in my life.”

“We didn’t steal it.” Jester protested.

“Then clearly whoever sold you that thing stole from you.” Caleb shot back. “That thing flies?”

Jester waggled her hand and made an “ehhh” noise.

“Like I said, we encountered a few, uh, technical difficulties on the way down.” Fjord said. “It certainly used to fly.”

“Sweet doshing Maker grant me strength.” Caleb muttered. “You are lucky that I am very familiar with the work of the Loronar Corporation, most mechanics would run screaming from that thing.”

“I still might.” Nott groused.

“I think that this is more of a job for Frumpkin mein freund.”

Before Fjord had had the chance to consider what engineering qualifications a lolth-cat might have, the closest door of The Mistake was flung open, revealing Beau and an alarmingly thick haze of smoke. Her usually black robe was soaked with a splatter of some kind of fluid which seemed to be slowly bleaching the fabric. Her face seemed to have been spared from it, although she did sport the indented outline of goggles around her eyes.

“Might want to leave that for a few ticks.” She called out to them between coughs. “I think something in the engine room just blew up.”

“Good thing we bought a mechanic back with us then.” Fjord replied, wrinkling his nose as the smoke reached them. At this, Beau appeared to notice the group amassed behind him.

“What, all four of them?”

“Just the one with the lolth-cat. One's a package deal with the mechanic and the others want a ride out of here and say that they’ll pay.”

Beau squinted at Caleb as she walked up to them, tilting her head slightly to the side. She leaned into his space, sniffing, even though Fjord knew that humans couldn’t actually use smell to determine anything (and even if they were able to she wouldn’t have been able to smell anything over the smell of the fuel on her clothes). Caleb shrank back, looking down at her with what might have been alarm.

“You sure?” she asked.

“The waitress at the cantina said that he fixed her caf machine.” Jester chirped. “Also she sold us this huge bag of mallow powder.”

“Caf machine is very different from an engine.” Beau’s eyes narrowed even further.

Frumpkin bristled and Caleb’s face suddenly arranged itself into something sterner and he leaned forward once more, inches away from Beau’s face.

“You are not wrong, but the fact that I am able to fix engines qualifies me to fix something much simpler. Whether or not I can fix your engine specifically is something that we will not know until I can look at it, but I would advise that if you want to smell of anything apart from tar-fuel for the rest of your life that you stop leering at me and let me get to work.”

Beau looked down at her clothes.

“Ah, dosh! Hey Jessie, did you see any sort of cleaning station around here?”

“I think there might have been some showers at the cantina, do you want me show you?” Jester replied, handing the mallow powder to Mollymauk, who staggered under the weight for a moment before passing the sack to Yasha.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Can someone bring me some spare clothes?”

“I’ll send one of the others along in a little while, you go get cleaned up.” Fjord assured her.

“Wizard, thanks.” Turning to Caleb she asked, “What was your name again?”

“Caleb. Caleb Widogast.”

“Right, Caleb-Caleb, good to know. You’re gonna need these.” She pulled her goggles off her head and handed them to him. “The light in the engine room has been busted almost as long as we’ve had the thing. Break them and I kill you.”

“Understood.” Caleb replied. “Have you not been able to replace the light? It is a simple fix.”

“Fjord is the only one tall enough, and he won’t go in the engine room because he thinks it’s haunted.” Jester answered him as they turned to leave.

Fjord could see the corners of Nott’s eyes crinkle in what was presumably mirth and did his best to quell the fear that was beginning to establish itself in the pit of his stomach.

“I’d have been less inclined to come to that conclusion if somebody hadn’t hidden in the dark and jumped out at me screaming, Beau.” He called after their retreating backs. Beau flipped him off over her shoulder and he couldn’t help sighing.

“Right, Yasha, Molly. You want to earn passage out of here? You can start by cleaning up the trail of fuel Beau will have left through the ship.” He turned to Caleb and Nott. “I’ll show you where the engine room is, and if you can fix whatever’s in there then you can take the engineer’s quarters for the time you’re with us. Might have to clear it out a bit but we’ll worry about that when we’ve fixed it.”

Caleb gestured to the ship with his spare hand.

“Lead the way.”

Notes: This was based very loosely on this post but veered wildly off in a different direction to the point where I wasn't sure that gifting it would make sense. But if either of the contributors to said post are reading this, please feel free to consider it as such.

I do not own any of the characters or concepts which appear within this fic, I'm sure that I don't need to tell any of you this but please support the actual properties that inspired it (Critical Role and Star Wars).The title is from Weird Al Yankovic's "The Saga Begins", which I also don't own, and I'm sure that you'll already be familiar with, but if not go check that out as well.

#critical role #critical role campaign two #critical role campaign 2 #cr #Fjord #Jester Lavorre #Caleb Widogast #Nott the Brave #Mollymauk Tealeaf #Yasha #My fic #fanfic

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eponymous-rose · 6 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E4 (Feb 6, 2018)

Oh no.

Tonight’s guests are Sam Riegel, Liam O’Brien, and Marisha Ray!

New opening sequence by @wendydoodles! In true episode-50 fashion, they play it twice in a row because it’s so much fun.

Ashley accidentally calls Brian during the show, so he picks up and puts her on speakerphone.

Announcements: issue four of Vox Machina: Origins is out, the podcast will be updated with episode 4 on Thursday, tomorrow at 9:30 Pacific is a new G&S show called Weave Society (a team-up of Mines N Crafts and AXYB).

@critrolestats for episode 4!

Nott has stolen 8 items since the campaign began. Liam adds to the list: “The audience’s heart.”

20% of die rolls in this episode were single-digit even after mods. By comparison, episode 3 was only 17%. By further comparison, C1E114 was only 3.9%. Le-vel two! Le-vel two!

Sam and Liam get kicked out while Brian asks Marisha questions about her solo scene last week. The show briefly turns into Marisha and Brian dissing Sam’s clothes.

Marisha had pretty much decided on the Cobalt Soul route ahead of time, since it was part of her backstory: running away from the Cobalt Reserve monks.

There was some temptation to say no to the offer, especially when the speeches got a bit more flowery. Marisha: “Beau was sitting there like *jerk-off motion*.” It took the punch to really get her attention.

Marisha is a little concerned that the group is starting to view Beau as a liability (in a different way than Keyleth was), but she also points out that pretty much the whole group is a liability right now. She thinks it makes sense for Matt to pull in Beau’s backstory first, just to give her a more profound reason to stick around.

Beau is partly just trying to learn new moves, but she’s also motivated by her new mentor being a “hot elf monk”.

Beau’s "fuck-it” attitude is partly related to some deeper backstory stuff, but also motivated in part by rebellion against her rich dad.

Gif of the week: Matt losing it over Nott’s zero-deception roll.

All Sam and Liam know about Beau’s scene was a muffled yell of “I’M GONNA PUNCH YOUR FACE” and two natural twenties. Liam suspects Matt and Marisha were just paying bills. Marisha: “In our new segment sponsored by H&R Block...”

Sam has been rewearing his shirts in order from the first campaign, but he was absent in episode 5, so now he’s not sure what to do. He likes the idea of going topless, but “we want to retain viewers”. Marisha suggests a chroma key green shirt that can be photoshopped at will.

Sam is impressed that so much of the party managed to buy drugs four episodes in when it took Scanlan so long. Liam: “I guess you’re just bad at Dungeons & Dragons.”

Caleb knew he and Nott would be able to fake their way through the bathhouse with confidence. Sam: “Do you have a wealthy past?” Liam: “No, I’m a mermaid werewolf.”

Sam thinks that Jester’s backstory is that there is no backstory. It’s all just on the surface.

Art of the week: a gorgeous boulder-parchment-shears attack for Beau.

The intense focus on bathing was originally to mess with Laura, but now Liam’s coming up with a justification for it. There is absolutely no salt whatsoever over the cast latching onto the stinky thing to the extent they did. Not even a little bit. Nope.

Nott is not especially enthused about water.

Marisha has had fencing, stage combat, Krav Maga, little bit of taekwondo, boxing, tai chi, bo staff, quarterstaff, European fighting stick. She’s interested in different fighting styles and how they came about.

Liam and Sam share their different stories about how Sam picked goblin rogue. Sam: “I feel like we’re in a fight.” Liam: “All I hear is aerators.”

Caleb saved Nott’s life in the prison they escaped from; Sam emphasizes that Nott is extremely concerned about his well-being. “She’s seen him almost die a bunch. He is dainty.”

Liam and Matt have talked about specific spells Caleb’s interested in, including a tiny bit of homebrew. Sam asks if the new spells he learned are a part of what he’s been working towards. Liam, avoiding the question entirely: “Hmm. Interesting.”

Caleb and Nott have been "getting fucked up running shitty little cons for a while now.” Caleb’s been wanting to find people who were level-headed and could help out, and so, failing that, he gravitated towards Fjord as someone who at least seems a bit more rational (”I know he’s an asshole too”). He’s also excited to get a chance to riff off Travis more often in this campaign. The words “actor boner” come up and are inevitably mined for high comedy.

Sam mentions that we’ve seen a bit of Nott’s personality quirks that made her an outcast from her particularly bloodthirsty clan of goblins, but any further details of her backstory will play out in the game.

Sam reveals that Nott has been gifted flowers in the past. Brian: “What was her reaction?” Sam: “She ate them.”

Talks Machina Popcorns Machina on Alpha:

Everything is temporarily derailed when Marisha swats a fly into her drink.

There is already half-werewolf half-mermaid art of Caleb from earlier in the show.

Items from the last campaign they wish they had? Liam wants the Displacement Cloak. Sam wants the Tome of Leadership so Nott can get some charisma (it would put her all the way up to 7). Marisha points out that Keyleth was going to use it after a hundred years, so Liam starts plotting a heist... where they’ll have to wait 80 years after stealing it to use it. Sam: “Oh wait, goblins only live 45 years.” Marisha wants an Immovable Rod. Sam wants a Bag of Holding. Marisha wants the healing potions she didn’t use last time.

Marisha on the women in the party having the highest strength scores: “It’s dope as fuck.”

Bad travel habits: Caleb will want to go to bookstores constantly. Everyone agrees that Jester’s the kind of person who’ll want to stop every time she sees anything remotely interesting.

Sam and Liam are both having a really hard time picking their options for level 3. Marisha’s a little more laid-back: “Combat class!” She already knows what she’s doing.

Things, as they do, get a little out of hand when Sam suggests a key party. Liam gets up and leaves the studio. Sam: “You said we could make a snuff film!” Brian, talking over the Geek and Sundry logo at the end: “PLEASE END IT.” It’s about par for the course, really.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long text post

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huntershelper25 · 5 years

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Path of the Chosen: Ch 2

PotC: Ch 2

Summary: Brooke is a 21 year old girl who’s life is flipped upside down when she receives a phone call from someone she hasn’t heard from in years. This phone call leads to events that cause her to get sucked back into the lives of two young men whom she hasn’t spoken to in years. Her life is never the same. Along the way she learns a secret about herself that not even her father had known. She is forced to face her destiny. Which path will she choose: duty or family?

A/N: I suck at summaries. I started writing this fic YEARS ago. It was posted here on Tumblr, but I have made some edits recently and have decided to repost it. This requires some introduction. I had a thought one day of what the show would look like if there was a female character that was brought in that actually stuck around for longer than a season or two. And because the thought wouldn’t go away this story and Brooke were born. I had a lot of good feedback the last time I posted this years ago so I decided to repost it for my new followers with some edits.

Disclaimer: There is a LOT of direct quotes and scenes from the show. I do not own any of it. I only claim the character of Brooke and how she fits into the story. All else is credited to the writers and copyright holders of the show Supernatural

Warning: There is some rated MA smut thrown in randomly for the first 5 chapters as flashbacks to establish timeline, character building, and relationships, but after that the smut dies off. Also, let’s just assume condoms are implied. They aren’t mentioned, but let’s assume they are used.

Word Count: 3297

Pairings (through entire story): Dean/Brooke (OFC), Sam/Brooke (OFC)

Previous chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter Two

Brooke woke to the sound of voices, rolled over and saw that it was ten in the morning. She figured she better get her ass outta bed and make herself useful. If she kept herself busy she might be able to fend off another night like the last. She slipped on some fresh clothes and tied her hair up in a pony tail, before she made her way down the stairs. When she reached the landing she froze. The voices mixed in with Bobby’s were voices she knew. Voices she hadn’t heard in years. They belonged to Sam and Dean.

They were talking about how they had found the thing that killed their mom and how a demon that seemed to be working for it was killing off their friends because they had found the colt. The colt was rumored to be able to kill anything, even demons, not just send them back to hell, but kill them for good. All hunters believed this gun to be fictitious, but if a demon had its panties in a twist over John having his hands on it than the rumors must be true. They talked about how the demon offered John a truce if he would give up the colt. Of course John wasn’t that stupid so he left the real gun with the boys and took a fake to meet up with the demon. Apparently the boys had located the thing that killed their mom and John was giving them the time they needed to use the colt and take care of it for good. That’s when he went missing.

Anger grew inside her at the mention of John, the man who was responsible for all this, the man that had gotten her father killed. She wasn’t angry with the boys; they obviously would have had no clue as to their father’s plan, that’s how John was. If the demon that killed her father had John and the boys planned on going after it she wanted in. She slowly made her way down the stairs, careful not to make any of the stairs squeak. As she walked into the kitchen she heard Dean say to Bobby, “Thanks Bobby, thanks for everything. To tell you the truth I wasn’t sure if we should come.”

“Nonsense,” Bobby replied, “Your daddy needs help.”

“Well yeah, but the last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buck shot. You cocked the shot gun and everything.”

“John seems to have that affect on people,” She said as she leaned against the door way with my arms crossed. Dean turned around; a look of utter surprise on his face, while Sam looked up from a book and without hesitating walked towards her and with his six foot five frame took all five foot nine of her up in a hug. Brooke noticed that she still had that same uneasy feeling in his presence that she had had when they were kids. “Hiya Sam.” she said when he put me down. She glanced over at Dean, who averted his eyes, “Dean.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked with a hint of concern.

“Hiding out,” she shrugged. “Your dad called me yesterday and told me…” she couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud, “told me what happened and, uh, said I should hide out here until this is all over, just in case.”

“I don’t know exactly how much ‘hiding out’ you’re gonna be doing here,” Dean said with a scowl on his face.

“What do you mean?” She glanced from Dean, to Bobby, to Sam, and back to Dean.

“It’s coming here, or at least we hope it is.” Sam interjected when Dean declined to answer.

“The demon? The one that killed… Pastor Jim and Caleb?” She just couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

“Yeah, Bobby has this idea that we can trap it in one of these protective circles,” He walked back to the book he had been reading when she walked in. “See.” He turned to a page depicting a circle, within which were a pentagram and another circle. Within the circles were odd symbols and letters.

“They really work?” She asked. If Sam was right and that thing was coming here she wanted to be sure they could trap it and return the favor.

“Oh yeah, you get a demon in one they’re trapped, powerless. It’s like a satanic roach motel.” Bobby said as he took a seat on the edge of his desk.

“Man knows his stuff.” Dean said breaking his silence.

“I’ll tell you something else too.” He looked at Sam and Dean. “This is some serious crap you boys have stepped in. Normal year I hear of, say three demonic possessions, maybe four tops.”

“And?” Dean asked as he took a seat on the couch.

“This year I heard of twenty seven so far. You get what I’m sayin?” He looked them each in the face. “More and more demons are walking among us. A lot more.”

“Do you know why?” Sam asked.

“No, but I know it’s something big. Storms comin and you boys and your daddy are smack in the middle of it.” Bobby glanced over at Brooke, “and dragging others in with ya.”

Just then the dog began to bark. Bobby and Brooke dashed to the window and through the blinds saw the chain, but no dog on the end of it. Brooke’s head began to swim, “Something’s here,” she said just as the back door was busted down and in walked a gal with short blond hair.

Dean reached into his pocket and came out with a flask of which Brooke assumed contained holy water. He took a step towards the girl who took one look at him and with a wave of her hand sent him flying across the room. Definitely a demon!

“No more crap.” She turned her attention to Sam, “I want the colt Sam, the real colt, right now.”

“We don’t have it on us. We buried it,” Sam said as he backed out of the kitchen into the study.

“Didn’t I say, ‘no more crap?’ I swear after everything I’ve heard about you Winchesters, I gotta tell you, I’m a bit underwhelmed.” She slowly walked after Sam as Brooke helped Dean to his feet. “First John tries to pawn off a fake gun and then he leaves the real gun with you two morons. Lack luster man. I mean did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

“Actually we were counting on it.” Dean said as he walked into the study with Brooke on his heels. The blonde chick gave him this evil look. To which Dean replied by looking up. Brooke followed his gaze to find one of those protective circles painted on the ceiling. If Bobby was right, this chick wasn’t going anywhere.

She stood back as she watched Sam and Dean tie the chick to a chair, bringing back memories of her time in the chair. “So this is the demon that’s been ganking people, I assume?” Brooke asked Sam as he walked by. Her head continued to swim as she shared presence with the demon, a sensation she had gotten used to over the years, but still found unsettling. Her dad had been the only one who knew this about her.

“Yeah, that’s me.” The blonde chick answered for him. “You look familiar. Have we met?”

“Highly doubt it. I’m sure if we had you wouldn’t be here to talk about it.” Brooke took a step towards the girl, a menacing glee welling up inside her as she realized she was about to exact her revenge.

“Oh, now I see it. The family resemblance.” A smile crept across the girl’s face. “I’m the one that watched your daddy choke on his own blood. Yeah he looked just like you do right now just before my blade slid acro-“ Brooke slugged her across the face with all the force she could muster. The blonde chick just laughed.

Sam grabbed Brooke’s arm and pulled her out of the room, giving her a disciplinary look. She jerked her arm out of his grasp and turned to find Dean giving her a complimentary look from the other side of the study.

“I salted the doors and windows. If there are any demons out there, they ain’t gettin’ in.” Bobby said as he entered the room screwing the cap back on a metal container.

The boys exchanged looks and Dean stepped in front of the girl. “Where’s our father, Meg?” The demon had a name, interesting.

She smiled, “You didn’t ask very nice.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Where’s our father, Bitch?”

“Geeze, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” She let out a little giggle, “Oh I forgot, you don’t.” Brooke closed my eyes and sighed, talking about Mary was a sure way to piss Dean off, which it did.

“You think this is a frickin’ game?” He practically yelled as he leaned over the chair, putting his face in hers. “Where is he!? What did you do to him!?”

“He died screaming. I killed him myself.” Meg said almost reluctantly.

Brooke watched Dean’s back go rigid just before he back handed Meg across the face.

“That’s kinda a turn on, you hitting a girl.” Meg said with a flirtatious look on her face.

“You’re no girl.” Dean said with disgust.

“Dean.” Bobby stood up and walked out of the room.

Dean turned to follow and Sam fell into step with him, “You okay?”

“She’s lying, he’s not dead.” Dean said in anger.

“Dean you gotta be careful with her. Don’t hurt her.” Bobby said once they were all convened in the kitchen.

“Why?” Dean said with a look of confusion on his face,

“Because she really is a girl, that’s why.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam interjected.

“She’s possessed. That’s a human possessed by a demon, can’t you tell?” They all looked back at Meg. Who looked back at them with a crooked, cynical smile.

“You’re trying to tell me that there’s a girl in there somewhere?” Dean asked with surprise.

Bobby just nodded.

Brooke instinctively reached up and ran her fingers over her scar, and quickly realized that yesterday’s makeup may not be covering it so well. She saw Dean’s gaze catch her movement. He saw her putting her hand to her face and the look on his changed from frustration to defeat. Then it hit her.

“That’s actually good news.” She said. She rummaged through the piles of books until she found the right one. “Exorcism.” she said when she received quizzical looks from all three of them. Each of them replied with a look that could only be described as “duh”. She quickly found the page they needed and handed the book to Dean, who happened to be looking over her shoulder.

“Nice.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Here Sammy, my Latin’s a little rusty.” He handed the book to Sam and walked back into the study. Sam gave Brooke a look asking if she wanted to do the honors, but she waved him off. Her Latin was a little rusty too, that and rather than worrying if she was pronouncing things correctly she preferred to watch the bitch suffer.

Back in the study Brooke stood directly in front of Meg, the better to see her squirm. She had killed her father and for that she was going straight back to hell.

Meg’s gaze moved from Brooke, to Dean, to Sam who was holding the book.

“You gonna read me a bedtime story?”

“Something like that.” Brooke smiled.

“Hit it, Sam.” Dean said from behind her.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”

“An exorcism? Are you serious?” Meg looked Brooke straight in the eye.

“Oh we’re going for it baby, head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards.” Dean said as he walked around the chair.

Through all this Sam continued to read. “Ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas,”

Meg began to cringe and Sam stopped reading and looked at Dean.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Meg said. “I’m going to rip the bones from your body.”

“No, you’re gonna burn in hell, unless you tell us where our dad is.” Dean leaned in from behind her and said in her ear. Meg just stared forward. “Well at least you’ll get a nice tan.” He looked up and gave Sam the signal to keep reading.

“eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis, Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili Nomini quem inferi tremunt Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine.”

Meg began to writhe in pain as Sam continued to read the exorcism.

“AH!”

Sam stopped reading.

Meg looked Brooke straight in the eye and said, “He begged for his life you know. Your father and theirs.” She looked from Brooke to Sam. “Your dad begged with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his boys one last time. That’s when I slit his throat.” Sam and Dean exchanged looks and Sam went right back to reading, a look of determination on his face.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica”

Dean walked around and confronted Meg to her face. He leaned in and said, “For your sake, I hope you’re lying. Cuz if it’s true, I swear to GOD! I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter, each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me god.” Meg cried out in agony as Sam continued to read. “Where is he?” Dean asked as he began to walk around the room once more.

“You just won’t take dead for an answer will you?” Meg said in between grunts and groans.

“WHERE IS HE?”

“DEAD!”

“NO HE’S NOT! HE’S NOT DEAD! HE CAN’T BE!” Every muscle in Dean’s body was tight as he tried to restrain himself from striking the demon, the only thing that knew where his father was. He noticed that Sam had stopped reading and that they were all staring at him. His eyes caught Brooke’s and a flash of surprised crossed his face as he recognized the look of anger and hatred that was set upon hers as she looked at Meg. He looked at Sam. “What are you looking at, keep reading.”

Meg began to scream. Watching her writhe around in that chair, watching her scream and moan, was almost too much for Brooke. She wanted to see this demon bitch suffer and be sent back to hell. After all, she had killed her father. But watching it all happen, and realizing the sheer hate and anger that was building up inside of her, stronger than she had ever felt before, it just all became too much for her. This demon was possessing this poor girl. This poor, innocent girl. Making her do things that were unspeakable. The demon may have been the one in pain, but what Brooke saw was this girl, trapped, and incapable of defending herself. Just like she had been. Her heart began to race, and she was almost in a panic as she realized she had to get out of there. She stormed out of the room, no doubt followed by everyone’s gaze, and planted herself at the bottom of the stairs.

She could still hear Meg screaming as Sam continued to read the exorcism, but she couldn’t leave the house. If Meg had brought friends they were certainly outside just waiting for someone to come out. So Brooke covered her ears and started humming to herself. She started humming an old Johnny Cash song, her father’s favorite singer. As she sat there on the stairs humming, tears rolled down her cheeks. She was getting her revenge. The thing that killed her father was being sent back to hell where it belonged, than why did she still feel so empty? So lost?

She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, but she suddenly realized the screaming had stopped. She stood, wiped the tears from her face, and walked into the study. All three men kneeled over the girl as she lie on the floor. She was whispering something to them, as Brooke drew closer all she caught was the word “Sunrise” and then the girl was gone. All three of them had looks of remorse on their faces as they stood up. There was a moment where they all looked at each other, as the realization that this girl was dead sunk in.

“We should call someone.” Brooke said softly, her voice still choked up from crying.

Bobby picked up the phone and made the call while the boys cleaned up the chair and got rid of the restraints. Brooke couldn’t make herself do anything except look at the girl. She had nothing to do with this. She was just some poor innocent girl who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and was possessed by some demon, and now she was dead. She was used as a meat suit and made to do god awful things, including killing Brooke’s father.

“What happened to her do you know?” Brooke asked no one in particular.

“What do you mean?” Sam replied.

“I mean what happened to her that killed her? It wasn’t the exorcism; it had to be something else.” She turned to face him.

“She fell out a seventh floor window.”

She nodded and walked into the kitchen, another innocent victim of this fight against evil.

“Thanks.” Bobby hung up the phone. “You boys get everything cleaned up?”

“Yeah, no evidence of foul play.” Dean said as he wiped his hands on a dish rag.

“Well you boys better get outta here before the paramedics get here.” Bobby said ushering them out. “Brooke and I will handle it from here.” He gestured towards Brooke as she stood by the back door.

“What are you gonna tell ‘em?” Dean asked as he put his jacket on.

“You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I’ll figure something out.” He handed Sam the book that contained the protective circles, “Here. You might need it”

“Thanks.” Sam said taking the book.

“Thanks, for everything,” Dean said with a nod.

“You boys just get your daddy back, and when you do, you bring him around, you hear, I won’t even try to shoot him this time.” Bobby gave them a half smile and turned back to the study.

Brooke opened the back door for them. Sam stooped down and gave her a hug as he said good bye, then headed out the door.

Dean paused with his hand on the door and turned to look at her. “You alright?”

She tilted her head up to meet his gaze, at six foot one; her eyes were just about level with his nose. “No.” she replied softly.

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Sorry, stupid question.”

“It’s just a lot right now, you know,” He nodded his head slowly, “but don’t worry about me.” She punched him lightly in the stomach and gave a half assed smile. “I’ve been through a lot in my life, and I’ll get through this too, eventually. You just worry about finding your dad.”

He didn’t say anything. He just put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a heartfelt look, then walked out the door.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #spnfics #spnfic #supernatural fic #supernaturalfic #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural fan fiction

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thorne93 · 6 years

Text

The Newcomer (Part 10)

Prompt: You’re Y/N Beauchamp, daughter to Wendy Beauchamp. When you’re sent away to Spenser Academy, you have no idea what waits for you there…

Word Count: 2845

Warnings: language, violence, anger…

Notes: This is for @xx-multi-fandom-imagines challenge! Crossover of The Covenant, and the show Witches of East End. Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @carryonmyswansong. Wouldn’t be possible without brainstorming with @carryonmyswansong, so thank you for that, darlin!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The movie was rather mundane to you, you were more focused on your boyfriend, holding his hand, caressing his arm mindlessly. He refilled your coke with his powers so that you two didn’t have to get up to get concessions, making you grin like a school-girl. Turned out, Pogue couldn’t make it to the movie because he had to fix his bike -- of course this was a lie, he had to do something with his family. The two of you shared a quick, knowing look.

Afterward, the three of you made your way over to Nicky’s place to join the others. The five Sons, and the three of you girls had all agreed to meet there around seven. When you got there, you walked hand in hand with Chase, seeing the other guys. You nodded to Pogue and smiled before Kate and him hugged and kissed.

“Wanna go play pool with Tyler and Reid?” you asked Chase with a head nod toward them.

“Nah, but you go if you want,” he said with an encouraging smile.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a bit!” You skipped over to your best friends with a giant grin on your face. “Hey, boys!” you greeted. “What’s the bet?” you asked, grabbing a pool cue stick.

“Man, you show up less than five seconds ago and you’re already asking how you’re gonna kick our asses,” Tyler commented.

“Oh, she cant kick our ass without magic” Reid teased playfully.

“How about you shove it, Garwin?” you shot back with a raised eyebrow and coy look. “You gonna play or what?”

“Fine. Fifty.”

“Easy as pie,” you said, leaning over as Tyler got the balls in order.

“No magic,” Reid insisted.

“I don’t need it,” you said in a low voice before hitting the cue ball.

Just as the game ended, Pogue showed up and they started betting on what underwear a girl had. You couldn’t resist but play too.

You placed a five down on the table with your bet. “Black, thong.”

“You’re dreaming. That girl hasn’t worn panties since she was twelve,” Pogue informed confidently just before using magic to blow her skirt up.

“Dammit,” you muttered, seeing her bare rear end.

“Thank you. This will pay for my dinner tonight,” Pogue stated as he grabbed the cash off the table, making you, Reid, and Tyler sigh in defeat.

“Good game, fellas,” you stated, getting the fifty that Reid owed you, making him groan once more. “Maybe you two should practice a bit, and I’ll be back to kick your ass again. Sound good?” You stuck your tongue out at them and walked away, back to Chase and the others. Pogue, Chase, and Caleb were playing foosball. This seemed like a good moment alone with Sarah, one you had been wanting since the night she flirted with Caleb.

“Hey,” you greeted as you sat down.

“Hi,’ she sweetly greeted back. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” you noted. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about Caleb,” you started, unsure how to do this and without sounding like a bitch.

“Yeah, Kate tells me you live with him? Are you like cousins or..?”

You shook your head and laughed lightly. “Uh, no, our families just… go back a long time. Family friends. I’m staying with him through the school year because my family is out of the country.”

“Oh wow, that’s nice,” she commented with a smile. “So what about him?”

“Well… just… be careful… I mean, like be nice to him, okay? He’s a really good guy, and just a really sweet guy. I would hate to see him get hurt. So if you’re serious about him, just… you know… don’t hurt him.”

“Wow, you sound really protective,” she noted with an awkward laugh before taking a sip of coke.

“He’s like a brother to me,” you said with a shrug. “He means a lot to me, and I just don’t wanna see him get hurt.”

“I get that.”

“Do you?” you challenged with a dark look. “Because if you hurt him, just know I have the power to make you regret it.” You gave her a dark, fierce look before it melted away to a sweet smile. “Okay! Have fun!”

She swallowed and nodded before turning to Kate, who just returned from the restroom. At that, you got up and stood next to Chase and the others as they played.

“What’s going on?” you inquired lightly.

“We were just measuring up your boyfriend, trying to see if he really has what it takes to join the swim team,” Pogue informed.

“Oh yeah, tryouts are tomorrow,’ you suddenly remembered. “You got what it takes, babe?” you asked, nudging Chase with an elbow and wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“I sure hope so,” he said before throwing his arm around you and kissing your head.

A few seconds later, I Love Rock and Roll came on over the speakers and you noticed Sarah making her way back over to Caleb.

“Hey, dude,” you said, gesturing with your chin towards her. Caleb grinned as Sarah took his hand and lead him out ot open space to dance. Chase quickly took your hand and pulled you out right beside them to dance. The four of you and other strangers at the bar were dancing up a storm when suddenly you heard a commotion over by the pool tables, making you stop.

“Blow me!” Aaron shouted, apparently Reid and Tyler had taken up to playing him and Bordy.

“Shit,” you muttered, stopping the dance with Chase, letting him go

“Let’s take it outside!” Reid challenged, shoving Aaron hard.

“Guys!” you called over your shoulder. “It’s Reid and Tyler!” You nodded toward them with your head, signaling you three needed to intervene.

Caleb relayed the message to Pogue, asking him to grab his jacket.

“You need help?” Chase asked as you started to head away.

“Nah, man, stay with the girls,” Caleb instructed.

The three of you followed the fight outside when you heard, “We ain't paying you shit, so if you don't like it…” Apparently it was Aaron, and you already could piece what had happened.

As the three of you came outside, Caleb demanded, “What’s the problem?”

Reid answered, “He bet me I couldn't make a combo shot, and I did.”

“Reid,” you said with an exasperated, chastising tone.

“Everyone just forget it, alright?” Caleb tried just before Nicky came around the corner with a baseball bat, standing in the doorway of the back.

“Hey! Take it somewhere else, ladies,” he ordered with authority.

No one moved for a moment.

“Now!” Nicky barked.

“Whatever you say, Nicky,” Aaron responded, eyeing all of you as he walked by, slamming into Caleb before heading back inside.

“What were you thinking?” Caleb demanded once the guys were inside and the door closed.

“We were just playing them,” Reid tried, shrugging off the severity.

“Reid, you can’t do that,” you said. “I know Aaron’s a dick but that’s risky and you know it.”

“Oh fuck off, Y/N, you’re not my mom.”

“No, I’m your friend and I don’t want anything to happen to you because you wanted to impress a dickhead,” you shot back.

“They were suckers for it,” Tyler added.

“Tyler, I expect better of you too,” you insisted.

“Why don’t you quit being such a pussy?” Reid hissed as he passed by, but Caleb caught his shoulder and gripped him hard.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

Reid retaliated quickly, snatching Caleb's hand away by his wrist, his eyes turning as he glared at Caleb.

“Reid, stop,” Caleb calmly instructed.

“Reid,” you lowly pleaded, taking a step toward him.

But when he didn’t stop using against Caleb, he was forced to counter attack. His eyes flashed and within a second, a loud gust pushed away from him, carrying Reid with him, throwing him into a stack of empty kegs, then against the wall.

A small gasp escaped you before you covered your mouth. Caleb began advancing on the wounded Reid. “What will it take for you to get it? It's addictive, you moron! You've seen what it can do if you abuse it. You want that? That's your business. But if you use in the open, like you did tonight, you risk exposing us all. And that I won't let happen.”

Without a word, Reid began raising a keg with his powers.

“My power’s greater than yours,” Caleb reminded, almost like a warning.

“Not until you ascend,” Reid countered.

“Reid! Don’t!” you pleaded, hating to see them fight.

“No, Y/N, go ahead, let tough guy take a shot,” Caleb said.

You huffed out a frustrated sigh as you watched Reid project the keg at him, to which Caleb easily deflected it, hard, making you jump back. In another second, he blasted Reid back, his body launching into empty bottles. You heard glass shatter and Reid land against the wooden crates and glass. The noise made you wince.

Caleb began marching toward him before Pogue and you moved swiftly in front of him.

“Stop it! This is crazy!” Pogue stated.

“It’s for his own good!” Caleb shouted over your heads, his eyes set on Reid.

“No, Caleb, don’t. He’s not gonna learn this way,” you remarked.

“If you keep using like you did tonight and the night at the beach, you’ll be as good as dead!” Caleb yelled as you pushed him back, putting both hands on his chest as Pogue gave up trying to intervene.

Just as Reid began climbing out of the mess, you gave Caleb a soft, sad look before walking over to Reid to help out.

“So I fixed her car, big deal!” Reid yelled back. He was leaning on you for support as he got around the debris. You wanted to heal him but you couldn’t heal on the fly. It took you a few moments of concentration, and in the midst of this fight, you didn’t have that.

“Don’t play me, Reid. I’m talking later that night and you know it!”

“The hell I do!” Reid shot back as he pulled away from you to get in Caleb’s face, but you were right there to stop them in case they went back to physically fighting. “I didn’t use later.”

You grabbed Reid’s arm, your touch instantly calming him as you escorted him inside with a sympathetic look to Caleb as Tyler followed. Chase immediately walked up to you with a concerned frown, seeing the broken glass all over Reid’s sweater. You shook your head and waved him off, signaling to give you some space. Chase nodded, giving you one more look before turning back

Reid and you sat down at a table, Tyler joining you.

“Let me heal you,” you requested, resting your arm on top of the table, palm side up.

Reid sighed and laid his hand on yours. It only took a few seconds, but he was healed, his cuts gone, and forming bruises prevented.

“He’s just doing it because he cares,” you quietly said as you let go of him.

“He’s got a funny fuckin’ way of showin’ it,” he remarked with disdain.

“You know what happened to his father… He just doesn’t want the same fate for you.”

“Yeah, well I’m not a kid. I don’t need him telling me what to do. I’m sick of him busting my balls.”

“He doesn’t think you do. He thinks he should be the guiding voice of reason that he never got,” you softly tried.

“Yeah but I’ve got my dad,” he reminded. “He didn’t let it take him over.”

“Right, and Caleb’s dad did, but out of the four of you, he’s the last one we’d suspect to succumb to the powers. So your parents don’t decide how well or badly you’ll handle it.”

“Doesn’t give him the right to boss me around like I’m a kid. I mean we’re all almost eighteen.”

“Doesn’t mean you know everything, Reid. Trust me. I live with immortal witches. My mom has lived for over a century, so has my aunt. Even they don’t know everything and they would admit that here and now,” you informed him, making him soften a little. “I know it sucks. I know he seems to coddle you but his heart is in the right place.”

“Yeah well tell him to back off,” Reid said.

“I will,” you gently said. “But it has to be some give and take. You can’t keep using recklessly, either. If you were a little more responsible, and he was a little less stringent, maybe you two could meet in the middle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, looking around the bar, brushing you off.

“I’m serious, Reid,” you said, dipping your head down to look at him, trying to draw his attention to you. “You have to be less reckless, please? For me? It’s only because I care about you too.”

“Alright. Alright! I will. Damn, you’re starting to sound like him,” he noted with a sideways smile he tried to hide.

“Thank you,” you said as you reached over and squeezed his hand.

After that you patted Tyler’s leg and got up to greet Chase.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”

You shrugged and nodded your head side to side. “It will be. The guys are just...working through some stuff. I wanted to be there to help them.”

“That’s my girl,” he said with a smile.

“Hey, will you take me home? I’m sort of… tired of this place,” you said. He told you sure and the two of you hailed a cab back to Caleb’s. Chase said goodnight at the door and you went inside, greeting Mrs. Danvers. She greeted you just as she was heading to bed, giving you a gentle smile on her way up.

You went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before heading to bed, your mind swimming with the events of tonight. Part of you knew what Caleb was trying to do, but the other part was so frustrated that he kept pushing the guys.

After another hour, Caleb finally came home and you emerged from your bedroom.

‘Hey,” you greeted.

“Hey,” he said back.

“Hey, I wanna talk,” you tried.

“Ugh, can it wait till tomorrow?” he asked. “I’m beat. After the fight and everything and getting Sarah back to the dorms…”

“No, don’t think it can,” you said, standing in the hall.

Caleb ran a hand down his face before tossing his jacket in his bedroom. “Okay, shoot, what is it?” he asked as he put his hands on his hips.

“You’ve got to lay off Reid,” you started, figuring you might as well jump into it.

“Oh not this,” he said, frustration and pleading in his voice.

“Yes, this again. Caleb, you have to stop--”

“Tell that to Reid! He’s using. You know if he exposes us, he could expose you too.”

“I know that,” you calmly responded. “I’m not unaware of that. I’m not agreeing he should be an idiot about his magic. I’m saying you can’t keep riding his ass and expect him to get any better. If you keep at it, it’s gonna blow up in your face and I don’t want to see that. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt. I don’t want a repeat of tonight.”

“He needs to pay attention and be more cautious,” Caleb countered. “He uses his powers so much I’m worried he’ll end up like my father.”

You took a step closer to him, closing the large gap between you two in the hall a little bit.

“I know that. We all know that, but pushing him to stop just makes him want to use them more. You need to get ahold of yourself, not just of him, and the others.”

“You don’t get it,” he responded, his tone getting harder. “I watched my father ruin his life, his health for this magic because he became addicted. I won’t want to have to go through that with Reid, or any of them.”

You nodded. “I can’t imagine what it was like to watch your father sink into addiction. I’m sure it was very hard, and I’m sure it hurt very much… But you can’t project that onto Reid. It’s his life, and his choice. He is very much aware what will happen if he keeps pushing his luck.”

“And I need to be there to stop him,” he noted.

You walked up and took his hand, peering into his eyes that were swimming with pain. “No, you need to be his friend. You need to be there for him if he ever falls. Don’t damn him before he commits the sin.”

Caleb nodded. “Yeah. Alright. You’re right.”

“Thank you. I really do know you’re doing it because you care, but sometimes tough love is too tough, alright?”

He gave you that signature half smile before stating, “Are you sure you haven’t lived 100 years like your mom?”

You just laughed and gently pushed him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#the newcomer #chase collins #chase collins x reader #chase collins fic #the covenant #witches of east end

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editoress · 6 years

Text

Chapter 2: Trouble [Treasure Hell]

In the end, she decided to take Cutter with her.

She had a busy few days before the voyage began. She hit the ground running every morning to pack and purchase more supplies, to visit patients who would need medication or instructions for the next six months, and to spread the word that she would be absent for a while.

"You want me to tell a bunch of thieves your building'll be empty half a year?" Caleb asked dubiously. He was a terrific climber, but not so terrific that she hadn't seen him several times for broken limbs.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "If I come back and the place is ransacked, I'll be gone a good deal longer," she retorted. "And then they can disinfect and stitch up their own gashes. You may tell them that, too."

Every moment she wasn't occupied, she was thinking about Cutter. He was perfectly skilled, and she did not need to worry about his safety. But the idea of letting him continue to run the practice unsupervised, however convenient, gave her a headache and an upset conscience. And so at last, she decided to close it down entirely and take Cutter aboard with her.

"Oh, good," he said when she informed him. "The same thing, really, but with fewer people. And in space."

"That's the idea." She patted his shoulder. "It'll be fun. Think of it as an adventure."

"Meeting new people on the outside and in," Cutter said approvingly. "Very droll."

Elizabeth pressed her hands together just below her nose and eventually decided, "You know, I think you'll make friends."

Her last errand was fortunately at the Singing Toad Inn. She got up the morning of the launch and went downstairs to have some breakfast and thank the innkeeper for his hospitality. She found herself strangely sad to leave the place behind. Todd seemed to feel the same, and loaded her up with a feast of a breakfast. She ate without protest. She was not one to turn down extra bacon. When breakfast was had and their accounts were settled, Elizabeth said, "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What's that, then?" Todd asked.

"Why did you name this place the Singing Toad?"

Todd bowed his head and scratched at one pointed ear for a minute or two. He cleared his throat. At last he answered, "Named it Singing Todd's Inn."

A delighted grin spread over her features. "You did?"

He nodded. "But the painter misread it. And she was so proud when she was done." He ducked his head further and mumbled, "Didn't want to correct her."

Elizabeth clasped his hand in both of hers. "You're a good man, Singing Todd," she declared. "I hope I'll see you again."

"You too, miss." As she left, he called, "Safe journey!"

She waved her thanks. That's what I'm hoping, she thought.

The Legacy was ready and waiting for her at the docks. Its sails seemed to flutter with anticipation, and the crew was doing a great deal more than that. Elizabeth dodged them as they hauled boxes of supplies up the boarding ramp and stamped back down for more. She was almost aboard when she had to run back for Cutter, who had remembered to say, "Excuse me," but had opted not to alter his course whatsoever, nearly causing a disaster and one less barrel of some root vegetable or another.

She stepped onto the deck with Cutter in tow by the arm. Most of the spacers had a rough look about them, which made it infinitely easier to pick out the officer of the vessel. Judging by his face, this fellow didn't much care for the practice of hiring out naval ships, but he called out orders with a steady, booming voice.

Elizabeth trotted over to him. "Doctor on board," she announced once he was between orders.

He harrumphed, and very impressively, but after looking her over, he said with relief, "Ah, the medical doctor."

Elizabeth began to feel that most people would do very poorly at a university, where you had to call practically everyone a doctor, and not ask what kind unless you wanted half a thesis. "So I am. Doctor Elizabeth Anderson." She held out her hand.

He shook it gently, careful of his stony grip. "Mister Arrow. First mate." Even when he wasn't bellowing, his voice was huge and rumbling. "The captain's occupied in her stateroom."

"Then I won't trouble her." She dodged a petite young woman who was struggling with a pallet much too big for her. "But I'd like to settle in and get out of the way."

"Stern quarters. Portside," he said briskly. When she hesitated, he pointed to a ladder leading down into the deck and added, "Main stairway, Doctor. Be with you as soon as this lot is in line."

She saluted, which caused him to grumble in exasperation, and followed his directions. The ladder was something of a challenge with her bag of supplies, but it was worse for Cutter, whose legs were not designed for the full range of motion. In the end, he had to jump and let her catch him, which was more a matter of breaking his fall.

"It must be nice to be so cushy," he commented.

She pushed him off and sat up, groaning. "Not currently."

The medical quarters consisted of two rooms: a small bedroom and a patient room with two cots and a table. It took little enough time to get set up. The longest part of the process was arguing that she should get the bed. She continued to wander once she was finished, familiarizing herself with the space. They were both small rooms with low ceilings, but based on what she had seen getting here, that was the way of naval architecture. Her pacing built up speed. The medical room was four or five steps long, and her room was only three. Still Arrow did not appear. "Taking a good long time to get that lot in line," she muttered.

The ship rumbled under her feet, the engines thundered, and at once both rooms tilted. Elizabeth went sprawling. Cutter managed to stay where he was and looked terribly smug for it.

"Learn anything?" he asked.

She wiggled further upright to sit against the wall. "I don't like launch," she said primly, "and I don't think I like small spaces. It's a very educational trip so far."

The launch was over, and when Arrow still did not arrive in the next few minutes, Elizabeth decided to solve her other problem by going up top. She left Cutter behind with promises that she would be back soon.

The deck was less of a frenzy now that the ship was underway. The crew's job seemed to be mainly passive now, a matter of keeping an eye on all the ropes and things rather than actively manipulating them. Elizabeth leaned back against the railing and scanned over them all. Not a soul in trouble, though Hands looked as though someone had spit in his porridge.

Would that it would stay this way. But she knew trouble would come soon enough.

Despite her reservations, the voyage began smoothly. She had apparently missed all the excitement of the launch. Her main trouble now was Cutter. She didn't have the strength to pull him up the ladder, and she preferred to spend as little time below decks as possible. Cutter was as morose about this as she had ever seen him, for though he had enjoyed being left to his own devices at the practice each night, he didn't care for being put away.

"You're abandoning me," he lamented. "I'm in storage."

Elizabeth propped her elbows on her knees. She was sitting on the ladder pensively. "You're not in storage, Cutter; you're just very heavy."

"That's impolite."

She stifled a laugh. "I can't get you up. And frankly I'm not sure I could get you back down again, either."

"That part wasn't so bad," Cutter informed her.

Elizabeth was spared the trouble of working up a reply past the urge to chuck something at him by the clip of boots and a ringing voice asking, "Problem, Doctor?"

Elizabeth turned to see a sharp-edged saber of a woman standing over her. She was perfectly still despite the motion of the ship, and she had an intent, clever gaze. "Captain Smollett, isn't it?" Elizabeth asked.

"Captain Amelia will do." She had the firmest handshake of anyone Elizabeth had ever met, including Silver with his steel prosthetic and Arrow with his stone. The captain jerked her chin toward Cutter. "Well, Doctor?"

"It's my assistant," she sighed. "I can't get him up and down, and now I feel rather like I've kicked a puppy."

The captain gave the whole situation a quick once-over and then barked, "Mister Morgan!"

An absolutely massive four-armed man appeared from above. The captain commanded, "Haul this bucket of bolts on deck." Without a word, Morgan reached down. Elizabeth scrambled out of the way.

"Sir! Sir!" Cutter yelped as he was lifted with one hand. But he calmed the instant he was set down on the deck. Then he flexed his hands, and with a cry of "Freedom!" he was gone, trotting off toward the bow of the ship.

"Thank you, Mister Morgan," Elizabeth said, despite the fact she foresaw disastrous consequences.

"When the doctor asks, put him back below," the captain added.

Morgan saluted with a grunt. Elizabeth waved him goodbye, which earned her an odd look. "Sorry for the trouble, Captain. I appreciate the help."

"Small crises, Doctor Anderson, are the bread and butter of captaincy," Amelia replied at once. "Otherwise the crew would sail themselves. That said, I wouldn't trust this particular lot to bring a longboat back safely."

"The few I know," Elizabeth said, carefully but firmly, "are decent enough if you can get them pointed in the right direction."

"You don't say." Amelia arched an eyebrow. "Then we're saved. If Mister Arrow can't get them pointed straight, no one can."

"Hmm," replied Elizabeth, who had seen firsthand how George Merry's like responded to even the sternest policemen. She couldn't imagine he would favor Arrow with much better. At the captain's questioning look, she continued, "You may be right. But if not, perhaps I could help."

"If I need help keeping order on my ship?" Amelia asked coolly. Her eyes glinted.

"Yes," Elizabeth returned in her practiced no-nonsense doctor voice. "If you ask for assistance, I'll give it. I have some experience with unruly patients."

Amelia watched her threateningly for a moment longer before breaking out in a smile. "Capital. You have backbone, Doctor; I like that. I won't have you giving orders. But if you have some way of steering these buffoons, as you say, in the right direction, then by all means, steer away."

Elizabeth watched Israel Hands clamber expertly among the ropes above them, feeling oddly hopeful about it. "We'll see, Captain."

At that moment, a voice bellowed across the whole of the ship. "Lunch is prepared, you louts! Chef says get below deck at once!"

"Now that's the kind of enthusiasm I can appreciate," Elizabeth noted. She turned to see the response of the crew obscuring her view of whoever had turned lunch into such an announcement. She nodded respectfully at Amelia. "Excuse me, Captain." She followed the crew as they filtered into the galley, hoping that Cutter would forgive her for disappearing below almost as soon as they had gotten him out.

Elizabeth was beginning to discover that anything below decks had the potential to become close quarters at the drop of a hat, and lunch was no exception. Fortunately, between the vicinity of the ladder and the natural light filtering through the grating above, this room made no attempt to suffocate her as the medical quarters first had. Also, it smelled strongly of savory broth, and she was terribly hungry.

The crew jostled each other to get a bowl first, some friendlier than others in their elbowing and shoving. She saw a distinct flash of claws up front and bellowed, "Don't make me work before lunch!"

A laugh rolled like a wave before her, uncertain and nervous but growing until she heard Silver's booming, good-natured guffaw from the kitchens. "Heed the doctor, now!" he chided. "I've enough for all of you!" After that, the line proceeded with reluctant civility, and Silver gave her a broad wink when he handed her a bowl.

Elizabeth took what space was available, opting not to start a scuffle over sitting any closer to the ladder. First she attended to her stew. It was exactly delicious as it had smelled, with a blend of spices that blossomed into a kick of heat a few seconds after each spoonful. She gave Silver a congratulatory gesture; her other hand was busy shoveling more stew into her mouth.

When she was halfway through the bowl and her hunger had dulled, her thoughts turned to the rest of the galley. Elizabeth wasn't always the keenest on gauging the mood of a crowd, being more accustomed to interacting with people individually. Even so, the crew struck her as restless. There was a muttering undercurrent to the conversation that made her uneasy.

She raised her spoon to her nearest neighbor. "Cheers," she said.

He tilted down to look at her fully, and she realized it was none other than Morgan from earlier. "Got whiskey?" he rumbled.

She shook her head.

His upper list twisted. "Then don't say cheers."

She bit back a laugh. "My mistake, Mister Morgan."

He grunted irritably in response. From the next bench over, George Merry called, "Don't mind him, Doc. Dry voyage and all."

She whistled low. But having now met the captain, and knowing they sailed on a naval vessel, she couldn't say it came as a surprise. Nor could she say she was particularly displeased. "My condolences."

Silver swung back into the room like a sail catching wind. "A dry voyage, you say?" he cried. "Upon my word, what a fool I am! Why, the captain's like to take me for deaf at this rate. Well!" His hand landed heavily on Morgan's shoulder. He had the attention of everyone in the room. "An honest mistake, and what's done is done."

"What's done?" growled a woman across the room.

Silver smiled coyly and laid a finger alongside his nose. "Best keep that to ourselves, I reckon."

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly as if warding off a headache. The room at large, ignorant of her worries, grew cheerier by degrees as the crew processed the news. When she resigned herself to her fate and opened her eyes, Silver was propped nearby, delicately sipping at his own stew.

"You don't approve, Doctor?" he asked with a tone of hurt she could almost believe.

"Frankly, no," she replied wryly. "I have no objection to drink, but I don't like its overuse."

"Oh, no need to fret." He punctuated his point with a long, patient draught of stew. "What kind of ship's cook would I be if I let the crew have their pick of the stores? No, don't you worry, Doctor; it's me what's in charge of the kitchen, if not a plank more. I'll keep 'em sober, you may be sure of that."

He shoved off the wall with a groan, and on instinct she reached out a hand to steady him, though she wasn't nearly strong enough to make a difference. Fortunately he hadn't lost a shred of balance and waved her off with his free hand. "And, if I may say so," he continued, "as an old spacer myself—it may be you'll have less work to do, with a drink now and again to soothe the nerves. Men and women such as these, four months without a drop? I can scarce imagine the scraps."

"All right, all right," she told him. "You've talked me around. It seems to be a talent of yours."

He grinned as though receiving the highest compliment, and she laughed despite herself.

Elizabeth held up a finger even so. "If I have to tend one person for drinking themselves into a stroke," she said, loudly enough to be heard by the whole galley, "then I will confiscate the lot of it for antiseptic use, if I don't tell the captain and throw it overboard."

Silver's lips pursed in a rare show of displeasure, but the twinkle in his eye was back momentarily, if dimmer than before. "Right you are, Doctor."

She took a deep breath and then let it out. Silver had a point; a little alcohol would keep morale up, and higher morale meant the crew would spend less time trying to gut each other in their sleep. She shook her head at that thought. Her clientele had turned her into quite the pessimist. "That said," she allowed more gently, "cheers."

This time half the galley raised their bowls with her.

The medical quarters received their first patient no more than an hour after lunch. Elizabeth laced her fingers together and stared at George Merry in consternation. For his part, George offered no explanation, only looked as the floor as though he'd really rather leave but couldn't figure out quite how.

"What seems to be the trouble?" she asked at last, very slowly.

"Had a cough," George grumbled, mostly addressing the floor.

She furrowed her brow at him. "Had a cough?"

"Aye."

"Between the time I saw you last and now?"

He grunted what could have been a confirmation and shoved his hands in his pockets. "It weren't nothing," he blurted out. "I coughed is all, and got sent down."

"And you listened?" she asked, a little more incredulously than she'd meant to. He shrugged. "Orders."

"Orders from whom?" she pressed.

"Silver." He tugged at his kerchief and added quickly, "He made a fuss is all."

His answers struck her as alarming. To be sure it wasn't medical alarm, she gestured him over. She placed one hand flat between his shoulder blades and the other against his upper chest. "Well, go on, take a deep breath, then."

George scowled but did so. There wasn't the slightest catch in his lungs that she could hear or feel, and though this wasn't exactly a professional-level examination, she felt confident in her conclusion. She gave him a pat on his shoulder for his trouble. "Either he's a mother hen or he's an ass," she decided. George did sputter at that, eyes wide. "I suppose I'll go figure out which. Now stop cluttering up my practice; it's not as roomy as the last one."

George was all too happy to return to his work. He left without another word, which was just as well, because Elizabeth was thinking. George Merry listened to orders from Silver. She thought back to the galley and realized most of the crew listened to him, even when they were willing to reply unkindly. He commanded a completely different sort of attention than her professional scolding tone. That was worth noting.

That gave her something of an idea. She didn't want to trouble Morgan every time Cutter had to get somewhere, and she didn't yet want to trouble the captain for a more permanent solution. Perhaps Silver could be the compromise.

She headed up to the deck but stopped halfway up the ladder; Cutter was standing at the top of it, staring down at her. "There is just no winning with you," he accused.

"I'm working on it," she assured him. "Have you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yes," he replied matter-of-factly, "I made friends." He left again before she could recover from her astonishment and question him further. This day was full of oddities, and they still had a full four months to go.

The crew had returned full force from lunch. Most of them were up in the rigging, though a few clearly had time for some conversation. Doctor Doppler was leaning over the railing near the stern of the ship, but fortunately Arrow had a hold on his coat to keep him from toppling out into open space. Arrow did not seem to be enjoying this arrangement. At last she spotted Silver on the forecastle deck. "Oi!" she called. "Mister Silver!" She made her way to the ladder and started up, ignoring the sense that Cutter was glaring daggers at her yet again. "Could I borrow your expertise for a moment? If you're free, that is."

Silver waited on her alongside a young woman who was looking slightly pink around the cheeks. Elizabeth gave her a smile as well. Then she raised an amused eyebrow at Silver. "Why on earth did you send George to me, anyway? He's perfectly fine, so I kicked him out."

Silver's grin was a charming admission of defeat. "Oh, well, better safe than sorry." He elbowed the young woman beside him. "Eh, lad?"

Lad? Elizabeth looked again. She couldn't shake the impression of a young woman in her twenties. "Doctor Anderson, right?" the youth asked.

Elizabeth reminded herself that she had never been talented at parsing age or gender, and it would be the height of stupidity to rely on her own assumptions. The boy was probably sensitive about the fact he looked so feminine. She refused to be rude about this. She offered him a wide, warm smile. "Elizabeth is just fine." She held out her hand. "And you are?"

He shook her hand cordially. "I'm Mel. Nice to meet you, Doc."

"Likewise, Mister Mel." Having thus avoided certain disaster and insult, she turned to Silver. "Do you think I can talk you into something for a change?"

He gave her a mock bow. "I'm at your service, Doctor."

"Don't be so eager just yet, Mister Silver," she warned him wryly. "It's about my assistant."

"Cutter?" Mel put in.

She blinked. "Yes. Have you met him?"

Mel nodded. One corner of his mouth twitched, but his voice was deadpan when he said, "I think he likes me."

"A rare blessing," Elizabeth intoned, in full sincerity. She wasn't even sure Cutter liked her. She sighed. "Anyway, the poor fellow can't work the ladders, and he needs to be able to get between the medical quarters and the main deck, at the very least, on his own. I refuse to ask Mister Morgan to tote him around; the man has better things to do, I'm sure."

Silver rubbed his chin. "That's right conscientious of you, Doctor, thinking about a man's duties before your own needs. But if needs be---by thunder, John Silver's the man for the job."

She was afraid he was getting carried away by his own dramatic declarations. "Don't let me take you away from more important work, either."

"Nonsense!" He clapped Mel on the shoulder and completely missed how taken aback the boy looked by this development. "Why, I've two crafty cabin boys to help me with the work. Surely I can spare a moment for the good doctor, if I expect you to spare me one in turn."

"Sparing a moment for you lot is quite literally my job," she reminded him, but her eyes were crinkled in amusement. "Except for George Merry, who hasn't got a cough."

Silver laughed genially. To Mel, he said, "Go help Jim in the kitchens, there's a good lad." He gave the boy a gentle push along the way. Mel hurried away past Elizabeth's wave goodbye. "Now!" Silver declared. "Let's see to this ladder that's so counfounding you."

She showed him. Immediately Silver's focus was on the deck and walls. He thoroughly examined the point at which the ladder met the deck. He was shockingly nimble; at least twice she offered a hand to help him up and down, but he had no need of it.

"Mighty kind of you, Doctor," he said the second time, "but I've had long years with these rusted scrapheaps. Why, by now, I'd like as not stumble like a babe if I had two proper legs!" He found this uproariously funny and continued to chuckle to himself as he kicked experimentally at the bottom of the ladder.

"I mean no insult to your capability," Elizabeth offered when she had regained her composure. "It's pure instinct, I'm afraid."

"Well, you're a helping sort, or you wouldn't be a doctor, I reckon," he said kindly.

Elizabeth made no reply to that, opting to be touched yet faintly embarrassed in silence.

Silver returned to the deck with a strained noise that belied his earlier words. "There's a hundred things could be done to that ladder," he decided at last, "but mark me, the captain would have none of 'em. But it seems to me a ramp would do the trick just as well, and wouldn't leave a mark on the Legacy besides; aye, I'd say we ask real polite for a couple of planks kept for repairs and rig up something nice and easy."

"Mister Silver, you're a genius," she informed him.

"'T'is nothing," he said, very obviously pleased with himself. "You flatter me, and you're too formal besides." He gave her a grin that was as overdone as it was genuinely warm. "No call for titles among friends, eh?"

She shook her head but smiled all the same. "Well, if we're friends," she decided, "I suppose I'll just call you John."

#finest crafts #It Continues #brotp: shut up John

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