#Maybe he's never confronted the fact that Caleb is dead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theregoesmylurkerstatus · 3 years

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So... I have a lot of thoughts on the finale. I've deliberately kept my mouth shut, more or less, on the campaign overall because I'm a firm believer that you can't pass judgement -- at least not complete judgement -- on stories until they're over and done with.

Well, it's done! Kind of crazy. I've been watching Critical Role with almost insane consistency, viewing almost every single episode live, with maybe five-ish exceptions, since episode 19, and I've been blogging it for, what, two and a half years?

It's a weird feeling. It's been such a constant thing for me that I'm always gonna have love for it and remember with a lot of fondness.

...Which is in spite of the fact that I can now comfortably say I'm pretty eh on the ending. I know not being positive about something most of us have loved a lot for a very long time can sting a bit, but I personally think it also stings when people relentlessly crow over how good they think it is or want it to be, to the point where you feel you can't voice your absolutely valid upsets or dissatisfactions. So, here goes, if anyone's interested! I'd be curious to see other opinions, too!

I actually drafted a post talking about my overall frustrations with the campaign a whole two weeks ago, and then scrapped most of it when 140 blew me out of the water. I was really touched, and really happy. I hadn't expected it, but it shockingly felt right, you know?

Unfortunately 141 robbed me of most of that satisfaction and brought me right back to neutral.

The blanket statement you have to make, of course, is that you can’t criticise this as a DnD game, and you can’t be mad at the cast for playing it in a way they think is best for them. They’re the players, Matt’s the DM, and in the end it makes no sense for them to try to make themselves act how they think the audience wants them to, and I’m sure most of the audience wouldn’t like the result anyway.

That said, there is an audience. And that’s where I see this clash coming in. As a DnD game, as long as the players and DM have all enjoyed it and been satisfied, it’s a successful game! But for us, it’s not a DnD game. For us, we’re watching a story be written in real time through the medium of an RPG. And while as a DnD game you can’t fault it, as a piece of media, I completely get why the way things have gone has sat weirdly for a lot of people.

It's not satisfying to see so many character hooks dealt with so quickly or left as an offscreen "and then you do it." If they don't want to keep playing to dive into it, absolutely, but for us who have been watching this as a story with all these character elements get so built up, it's a huge anti-climax.

Which is a lot of what this campaign has been, really.

Oh, Nott’s cursed! But through a really cool character moment that problem is completely taken care of with no consequences we see. Yay, I want her to be Veth and that was an iconic move from Jester! Still, it kind of feels like this was built up to be a big problem and at the first success it was let go... Caleb's got a really intense frightening past he tries to hide, I wonder how the Mighty Nein will respond? Oh, they found out, but it's not a difficult revelation for anyone. Looks like it's easy for them to move past it and forgive. Yeah, that's healthiest for the characters, but huh, kinda undercuts it as a storyline or point of interest. Oooh, Avantika’s back! Ah, they’ve killed her and grabbed the eye again. I mean I don’t want them to die or for Uk’otoa to be free, but I’m starting to feel like that’s not much of a threat anyway. The Traveler’s been kidnapped! Nah he hasn’t, he tried to save Jester so he was let go with no further issue, and also he wasn’t actually in any danger anyway. Oh... Cool. So... Why should I care or be worried?

And these are just the biggest ones I remember being kind of let down by. I wanted to see them STRUGGLE for the successes to have meaning. To my view, threats of failure -- real failure -- really decreased the more the campaign went on, with a few exceptions.

Because don't get me wrong, we've definitely had struggles, and those have made for some of the best moments! Molly’s death, Yasha’s kidnapping, Yeza’s imprisonment. When failures that were threatened are allowed to occur, it’s far more gratifying when it’s followed by success, because you understand that that success was actually necessary. It shows us that what they do really means something.

Honestly, that's why the final battle really shut me up, because nothing makes you quite feel stakes and failure like having two PCs die, and having a resurrection ritual fail -- AND knowing that failure would be delivered on, had it not been for a seemingly miraculous roll of the dice to turn it around. One of the greatest failure's -- Molly's death -- made the success of his resurrection put a lot of my other issues to rest immediately, because to be honest? Molly's resurrection was the biggest success of the campaign, exactly because it was originally the biggest failure.

But this episode, we got to see the other side of making threats and successes feel disappointing -- when you get the impression that success was robbed from you. Again, their characters, their choices, but to have them roll an intervention to get Molly's soul, to convince Molly to come back with his own possessions they've so loved, after so long and so many struggles... only to apparently not get Molly at all?

Changed, of course. Memories, maybe he'd never get them back, though that seems inconsistent to how the initial resurrection was played and Matt's hints. It even makes sense that not having his memories and being a bit different, he might forge a new identity, but insisting Molly was a different person entirely after such a supposed hard won success to get Molly back, especially after what his death meant to the audience and potentially healing that old wound? It robs the narrative of a LOT of catharsis, at least for me and I know many others.

Trent, too, I'm very up and down on. He was so built up -- and what fun that build up had -- and I very much disagreed with the idea that the best story would be dealing with him offscreen.

It's true that you don’t need to explicitly address, confront, or explore every big aspect of character's story hooks and background ties for PCs to move past them and grow healthily. But that does not make it a satisfying viewing experience. People quietly healing in real life is healthy. People quietly healing in an explosive fantasy setting is frustrating for the audience.

What on earth is the point of a story if you don’t get to SEE THE ESTABLISHED CONFLICTS go anywhere? A lot of the characters got distant, quiet resolutions, if that, to everything we wanted to see.

Except, we did get to see Trent. It was a really fun, inventive battle, from opening to conclusion, but much like Travelercon, much like Nott's/Veth's problem with the hag, these were things that the audience in general wanted to see be really dug into and explored, and every single one of them got, in my opinion, quickly tidied up instead. Trent got beaten in the first and only proper battle they had with him, which, after all his build up, is pretty disappointing for a villain many of us wanted to see be a big deal. It really just felt like they were trying to tidy up to get on with the epilogue, which is not what a lot of us were looking for with Trent especially.

And that's how most of their endings felt to me. It didn't feel like any of them had reached a comfortable conclusion. Literally all of them, bar Veth and Caduceus, continued on their character journey threads, without each other and very quickly. Meeting Yasha's tribe and Vandran, Caleb finally openly debating changing time for his parents, Trent and Zeenoth's trials and the changing of the guard at the Assembly... All were things it would have been so fun to have all the PCs react to and explore together, and instead they were fleeting encounters in the latter half of a seven hour finale.

Is all this, from Molly not really coming back to Trent being a finale side plot to the Nein continuing on their individual journeys, potentially realistic to how these fantastical things might go down in real life? Sure! But that's not necessarily a good thing.

Stories THRIVE on conflict and resolution. That’s what makes them FUN! Conflict isn’t nearly so fun in real life and resolutions are often frustrating question marks, so no, past a certain point I don’t WANT stories to be realistic. I want stories to be SATISFYING.

And campaign 2 has fallen far short of the mark.

I haven’t spoken... Basically a word of this for most of the campaign, because as I said I’m a firm believer that you can’t necessarily judge something until it’s over, and because I ALSO firmly believe that being negative WHILE trying to enjoy something is counterproductive. I have had no interest in spoiling or naysaying the fun of the campaign for anyone, least of all myself.

But it's done now, and all I can say is... I really have had fun. I love the characters. I love their relationships. I’m pretty okay with where they’ve ended up. I’m not mad, really, and I’m still going to think of this campaign with a lot of affection. But it hasn’t been a satisfying story, even though for a week following episode 140 I thought, despite all the brushed over story threads, it might be.

So... to try and reclaim some of that satisfaction for myself, I might ignore some aspects of the finale proper. Namely Kingsley specifically. Taliesin's choice -- but to me, it's pretty clear that who we saw at the end of 140 was Molly, and the tags on my posts will reflect that, just as my 141 tags will be for both Kingsley and Molly, for clarity's sake. I personally want to believe Molly did come back, however others might want to interpret it. The victory in 140 that meant so much to me is hollow otherwise, and it just kind of hurts that we would lose Molly after everything. I was okay with him being dead -- I'm not so okay with his resurrection being stolen.

Kingsley will always be canon, but Molly is what I choose to acknowledge. I get if you don't like that take, and that's okay! I didn't care for canon's in the end. That's the good thing about storytelling, is that no one can stop you from making your own versions.

For the people who are hopefully hyped for campaign 3, heck yeah have fun! I’m on the fence. My investment, which... I think I can objectively say was pretty substantive as this blog will attest, doesn't feel rewarded, so I’m not convinced I can faithfully keep up for over three years all over again with a strong possibility that I will once again be left disappointed. It's been a huge chunk of my life, and... yeah!

I’ll take a break, probably, view (and liveblog, if people want!) campaign 1 when I’ve had a mental stretch and vacation, and then... I might start campaign 3. I definitely won’t be able to put the same time in it I did campaign 2 (my first love no matter what), knowing that it’s likely to not be so vindicated, in the end.

I swear I’m actually writing this in fairly good humour, but I totally get its always disappointing when the people you come to for fandom enjoyment just aren't sharing your fun. Honestly I’m half tempted to write all those frigging AUs I have sitting around! But I wanted to say my piece, and try and logically outline why this ending has been lacklustre for so many people, ultimately myself included.

Episode 140 felt right because it felt like a natural conclusion -- these disparate people coming together and finally being whole, finally soothing the hurt that MADE them so long ago. Episode 141 spat on that sentiment -- they all scattered to the winds, not as happy people to live out their dreams, but as confused people chasing up loose threads towards an unknown future, with the friend they thought returned still lost to them, ultimately.

It doesn't feel like the ending we should have gotten for the Mighty Nine, who were finally, finally all together. Until they weren't. So to me? I choose to acknowledge that they were, even if I have to force it to happen post-epilogue in my head.

#critical role #cr spoilers #c2e141 #c2e140 #ramblings #long post #first time i've used that tag but i figure people should be able to block this if they want to!#molly #kingsley #trent ikithon #the mighty nein

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vividxp · 3 years

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I was scrolling the crspoilers tag on twitter and found a screenshot that someone posted of their talks question submission that asked if Matt felt a way that the group sidelined their revolutionary ideas as soon as they gained power.

And my instant reaction was:

Hold on, ‘revolutionary ideas?! the M9?!’

Wait, ‘power?! The M9?!’

Now, I actually think the bare essence of the question is a valid and interesting one; Matt clearly had plans about the setting of Wildemount and there were opportunities for the characters to really get involved in its contentious politics. But I would not describe the M9′s ideas or actions throughout the campaign as ‘revolutionary’ in any sense of the word. In fact for the most part the M9 have actively avoided getting involved in things unless it concerned a person they cared about. Arguably, it wasn’t until this last arc where you started to see the M9 start to move in a different direction.

So, sure, I absolutely would love to know how Matt felt about how the players approached the setting. I would like to know if he had to change things up because he felt the players weren’t responding to or having fun with what he put out there.

I wonder if in retrospect, recognizing that the M9 was very focused on their in-group, Matt would have tried harder to try and give the M9 some stakes and investment in Wildemount that were more than just existential and universal (as the Eiselcross arc was).

I think the biggest issue for anyone who was hoping for a revolutionary turn for the M9 is that the vast majority of the characters appeared to be/were disconnected from the political realities of the Empire and Dynasty which were the highlight of the campaign. Jester and Fjord were from Menagerie Coast which was neutral territory. Even at the height of the war between the Empire and the Dynasty, Nicodranus didn’t take a side, so it was the place where the M9 could go and not be worried about the Empire or Dynasty getting involved in their business. Yasha is Xhorhassian but from outside the Kryn Dynasty and from a tribe she was alienated from at the beginning of the campaign. Molly and Caduceus are from Shady Creek Run and the Blooming Grove respectively, two areas that once again are outside of the Empire and the Dynasty.

Beau, Caleb and Veth were citizens of the Empire. But despite that, Caleb was basically a nonentity and for the most part he wanted to keep it that way. He had a few moments here and there, but it was only until after the war wound down that he was like ‘ok, it’s not enough for only me to escape the Cerberus Assembly’. (Which is fine, mind you, that’s called having a character arc).

Beau is the only character that I would describe as someone who gained power during the campaign. However, I felt that becoming an expositor made only made Beau more invested in shaking shit up politically not less. However early on in the campaign, what did being a member of the Cobalt Soul actually mean for her? The Cobalt Soul never gave her any missions but allowed her to be a free agent and report back anything interesting that she found. There were some moments with Dairon during the Xhorhas arc, but again it fell mostly on Dairon to do that work instead of Beau and there wasn’t really any follow up on the choice Beau made to help them infiltrate the Dynasty especially since Dairon didn’t really discover anything the M9 didn’t already know. There was so much potential there but very little opportunity when it came to Beau who IMO would have absolutely risen to the moment.

And finally, you have Mrs. Veth Brenatto. Here’s a flaming hot take for y’all: the investment and stakes that the M9 had in the politics of Wildemount for the campaign was mainly because of Veth. Take her away and the M9 would have probably been pirates and out of things for a whole lot longer.

But even then, there were opportunities with Veth that were missed. For example, her whole entire backstory. The goblins who raided Felderwin during a harsh winter and killed her? Would that have happened if the Empire had treated goblins as actual citizens and not monsters to be eradicated? As Nott the Brave, it didn’t really matter that Yeza would have accepted her as a goblin, her home was still closed off to her because the Empire and the society at large would rather see her dead.

Though mind you, despite all that backstory it was never really engaged with at all. And Veth’s antipathy towards goblins seemed to be treated as a unique, personal character flaw that came from nowhere. But that makes zero sense! It wasn’t like the goblins who killed her could have went to the market that winter. The Empire is a deeply racist society that systematically excluded goblins from society and violently suppressed them into the margins. We got to see how things were in the Dynasty were goblins were allowed to live freely and participate in society. The issue and moral of the story isn’t ‘well Veth has to realize that goblins aren’t all bad’ the issue is to realize that she was the casualty of a moral and political failure of the Empire. That her circumstance was the consequence of a society that makes sure that the only option a group has for survival is violence. Those dots could have been connected and there was potential for change if the issue was ever confronted directly, but alas.

I have a lot more retrospective thoughts on the campaign, but long story short, I think that while you could argue that maybe the M9 were moving towards a more revolutionary direction and perhaps if the campaign kept going a little longer we could have seen it especially confronting a political institution like the Cerberus Assembly. But I definitely think the M9, for better or for worse, was very much a neutral party.

#critical role #the mighty nein #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #veth brenatto #meta

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thatonesadending · 3 years

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Caleb gets to show Molly his Tower, but Essek doesn't approve (Chapter 3)

Caleb knew he was being childish, overly excited. But he had put a lot of work into his tower, spent a lot of time thinking about his friends and their own stories, and how they impacted him. He was eager to share it with Molly. The man was that was ostentation to a fault, and so Caleb thought he might appreciate how much thought and whimsy he had put into their little band of hero’s home away from home.

He lead Molly through the entrance of the Tower, he hadn't explained anything, and the tieflings reaction didn't disappoint.

“What the fucking hell. I am still dead aren't I?” He had almost ghosted past Caleb to the middle of the Entryway. Looking up, he gasped and put his hands on his hips. “Caleb Widogast, you tricked me. You made me think I was going back to the material plane, but this, - this is Heaven, isn't it.”

Caleb couldn't help but chuckle at the mocking tone. He was surprised when Molly looked back away from the ceiling, and stode back to Caleb to clasp his shoulders. “I knew you were a sneaky little bastard, smarter then you let on. Good Boy.” Caleb should have felt embarrassed at the teasing praise, but he wasn’t, at least not yet. Mollymauk continued to wander around the Entryway. He spent a good long while asking questions and Caleb gladly answering.

“How do you get up there?” Molly pointed up thru the center of the tower, after taking in all the windows and art surrounding him.

“Come, I will show you.” Caleb offered his hand to the other man, normally he would not be so bold, but he was riding a high from having all of his worries and suspicions so easily dowsed. He could overthink things later, currently, he just wanted to think about the now, something that Molly valued.

Molly took it easy, and Caleb told him all he had to do was think “up”. Of course, in an effort not to be outdone, he said what Caleb could guess was the infernal translation and pulled the wizard with him.

They made it to the center of the salon floor before Mollymauk stopped and stared. Truth be told, isn't not that Caleb had forgotten, but he had never thought Molly would see the salon, never prepared an explanation for the large stained glass window. He had made it of course as a tribute that the other Nien would appreciate as much as he. It hadn't occurred to Caleb until that moment that he had surrounded his books, his knowledge around the lighted artwork that represented Mollymauk Tealeaf.

“Caleb, I -” he wasn't sure he had ever experienced Molly speechless before. Embarrassment was spreading up his neck, and Caleb wanted to find a way to explain, minimize - lie - about the significance of the fact that the third floor of the Mighty Niens home has a vast library containing all the books and knowledge Caleb ever held dear, and a larger than life depiction of Molly’s tattoos, that case color and light on all of Caleb’s texts. He wanted to say that he had just made it as a comfort for his still grieving friends, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t lie.

Surprisingly Cad started answering some of Molly’s questions when he eventually stopped staring. It wasn't until Caleb scanned the room and remembered that Essek was also with them, that he realized Caduceus was being more polite than him.

Caleb tentatively walked over to the other wizard, unsure of what to say. There had been a lot of floating and conflicting feelings around the two of them as of late, but Caleb had just started to feel like they had been unraveling them, getting to a place where they could be more than friends with a tentative trust. But then Caleb had asked Essek on this trip, and then literally kissed the enemy. He had no idea what the man must be thinking.

“Thank you for guarding me, you know - while I cast th-”, but he was caught off by Essek.”

“This is foolish.” Caleb hadn't been expecting the reprimand. Essek didn't let him respond.

“You have now twice let a man that may or not contain a friend that you knew for only a couple of weeks into your home. Shared your secrets. For what Caleb? I understand that your friends and you -”

Caleb cut him off abruptly, but did not slow Essek down. “Our friends.”

“Yes, our friends - have an affinity for this ‘Mollymauk’, but it is my understanding that you only knew the man for 4-5 weeks. How do you know this isn’t Lucien? Playing off your limited memories of a man who barely knew you. Whereas I -”

The door two floors below them slammed open, and Caleb found himself prepping to use his arcane fire, but all he saw was the rest of the Nien trudging in, and closing the door behind the,

“Cad, do you think you could come heal Beau? She is ok, we got Cree, but Jester is a bit tapped.” Fjord’s deep voice rung through the tower. Cad excused himself from Molly, and drifted down to Beau. the rest of them followed soon after, back to the Entryway. Caddie quickly took care of all of them, but took care not to include Cree, who was flung over Yasha’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes and unconscious.

“Molly what do you think?! Isnt great?!” Jester asked to her fellow tiefling.

“Love, I am fairly sure that I am stuck in a coma or a demiplane somewhere, but this all couldn't possibly be real.” He said with a grateful smile on his face. Caleb barely heard Essek mutter, uncharastically, ‘I am sure you would fuck with demiplanes.’ Before Caleb could confront that, Molly was calling to him.

“Caleb, this is truly fantastic, and I really would love to see it all, but I wasn't lying when I said I was tired. I don't know what that other guy did with this body, but it doesn't feel like sleep.”

“Oh Molly! You can stay with me! I am sure you don't want to be alone, and Essek has the guest room, and my room is like - really really awesome. We can totally snuggle and I can-” Fjord was growling again, it wasn't loud, but just displeased enough that Jester heard. Caleb wasn't sure what to make about this recent possessive streak, but he knew his own jealousy isn't helpful since Fjord had obviously scared Molly.

“Or maybe Yasha would be better, she really really missed you.” Jester supplied, with a bashful smile.

“That would be divine dear, if that’s ok with Yash, don't want to intrude, love.” Molly said, but he seemed to be struggling with something. It Caleb only a moment to realize that the man was overwhelmed with their change in dynamic, unsure of how he fit in, and might need some space.

“Actually, that might not be necessary.” Caleb hadn't planned on telling them all, but he also hadn't planned on being able to bring back Molly as such. He kicked himself mentally for not arranging things in the tower before he cast it, but hopefully the others left him alone about it. He wasn’t going to hold his pride up before making sure Molly knew that he belonged here with his family.. “Both Mollymauk and Essek have their own rooms if they choose to stay in them.”

Caleb noticed Essek’s normally imperceptible demeanor change, soften just a bit, he was thankful for it after their brief but tense exchange.

“Ah, Essek, I had wanted to show you your first night here, but unfortunately circumstances as they were prevented that. I would show you tonight, but I would like to take Mollymauk to his, seeing as this is all a bit new to him.” Caleb waved his hands to indicate the tower, but what he didn't say was why it could only be him that could show Molly.

“That is alright. I would be glad to wait, I didn't get to explore your library as much as I would have liked anyway.” Essek’s offer of patience was welcomed. It meant that he wasn’t too angry with Caleb. “Thank you, Essek.” Caleb knew the others didn't understand Caleb’s gratitude, but he didn't care at this moment.

“Caleb, when did you find the time to make Molly a room? And I count the same amount of doors, where is?” Of course, Beau would be the one to pick up and challenge Caleb on this first. He couldn't think of a convincing lie, so he tried to go for nonchalant.

“On the floor above Veth’s and my own.” He tried to say it casually, but not a single pair of eyes around him didn't stare.

“Caleb, when did you put a room for Molly on the eighth floor?” The question came telepathically, though Caleb could hear Beau’s pointed tone perfectly. His eyes immediately jumped to his hands, the other red eye still there. Before panic could flood him about what that meant, Beau was in his mind again.

“We can worry about it tomorrow, Molly doesn't have any eyes on him other than his tattoos, we probably just have to kill this city. Now, tell me, when?”

So he wasn’t going to be able to avoid this.

“It’s always been there.” A simple answer to a very complicated issue.

“Fuck man, why didn't you - I, I didn't know.” Caleb didn’t like hearing her pity. Part of him was grateful that she understood why he had included it in his floor of memories, however, he didn't want to talk about it just now. Everyone was still staring at him, they knew Beau was in his head, and likely knew what she was asking, but mercifully not saying anything.

“Ja, well, Yasha can put Cree in one of the rooms of requirement, no? For us to deal with tomorrow?” He supplied quickly to change the focus of the room. “And I can take Mollymauk, to at least change into different clothes for now, and he can choose where he stays.”

“That sounds like a fine plan, I can help Yasha. Then we all can get settled for some needed rest.” Fjord supplied, taking control of the situation from Caleb, which he was very grateful for.

“Lovely. Caleb, dear, take me wherever you want, to be honest, I would be happy to sleep on the floor right here, but I’d love a change of clothes just as much.” Molly didn’t look tired, as much as a man who really wanted to catch his breath. Caleb knew this feeling well, and only hoped he could maybe provide a calm space for Molly to get a little more acclimated in. Without really thinking about it, he put out his hand to the purple man, and of course, he took it in return.

“You only need to think the word ‘up’.” He reminded.

“But where is the fun in that? Up.” Molly tugged Caleb up through the floors of the towers, and he couldn't help but laugh at the other man’s enthusiasm as he fell upwards.

#critical role #cr2 #widomauk #shadowgast #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #essek thelyss #lucien

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violet-t-9 · 3 years

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Checking in on my (not very realistic) wish list for episode 133

1. Continued dungeon crawl starting with a relatively easy victory against the frost salamander thingy.

Fjord you battle genius! That was pretty easy I totally knew it-oh never mind lol there is another one. Also, Capeleb my beloved. Still pretty easy first combat though considering they took both salamanders out in 2 rounds.

2. They discover more about the nature of the “coldness” they experience in the ruins that keeps making them do constitution checks (is it just the brown mold? I don’t trust it).

I mean, seems like regular brown mold to me at this point! We got a full explanation of their effects as well! (Still don’t trust it though.)

3. Maybe they can discover some more cool relics/clues to what happened to Aeor, the nine eyes, its history or arcane and this mysterious ward.

They found the city proper! Cool stuff. They also found mummified bodies and pretty architecture. A weird body with metallic features and runes! A smooth orb power core? Weird blue and teal lights and dome. Who is that woman?

4. Confirm (via commune perhaps, let’s go team clerics) that the TT are in fact still gathering their crests/just got them so M9 still have some time to relax/plan.

Yay Jester! Go Jester! Shoot they are less than a day away though... but they still got some time to rest/plan. At least Trent and Co. are not pursuing close. Ah never mind they are actually here-

5. Seeing more of Essek’s cool dunamancy spells in combat and for other things (Matt please give me more of that delicious dunamantic flavour yum), also seeing his other fancy magical items.

Magnify Gravity hype! Magic missile description was also cool (love the colour scheme)! Sending stones made an appearance again! (Rip those rangers)

6. I will continue waiting for the Essek and Caleb one-on-one conversation until it happens eventually (manifesting). (Bonus: Essek meets winter Frumpkin)

Yes! It happened! They talked, in private. Literally everything I have ever wanted for weeks now, thank you critical role.

7. More Essek realization moments as he gets more and more convinced that he is surrounded by super powerful idiots. (Bonus: Essek gets either super impressed by M9′s battle skills or joins in their fun afterwards)

I’m counting the Capeleb moments lol, low int Capeleb is low int. (Again, Capeleb my beloved.) Also Essek joined them in their heroes’ feast and expressed his love of beef stew so I’m going to assume he had fun.

8. Finding a place they see fit, coming up with and deciding on a tangible plan for ambushing the TT and actually setting up the traps. (Bonus: discover the place where the TT plans to use to go to the astral sea)

I love ambush planning! They actually set stuff up! Wonderful wonderful. Did not expect them to actually confront the TT so soon, but hey, 3 down 2 to go. The real problem is the bonus part.

9. Widogast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower (with renovations) the next night (let Essek see it before fighting the TT, come on). (Bonus: water slide woooooo)

Ayyyy “impressive” indeed! Caleb even gave Essek a short tour. What fun that this episode just keeps delivering. Water slides even got an honorary mention (they are in the rooms of requirements).

10. Dome cuddle pile shenanigans on this night, maybe some more one-on-one conversations between people on watch. (Bonus: the couples cuddle)

I mean technically yeah there was the dome too! Essek and Fjord had a very intense one-on-one conversation that I loved... so I’m counting it.

11. No more red eyes on Beau and Caleb in their long rest (I’m still hoping that their amulets are helping with that, honestly though that’s unlikely).

Well they never got a long rest, but no red eyes I guess so l will take it.

12. Caleb (from casting polymorph) and Veth’s (from spider climb) wild magic rolls from last episode have their effects revealed. (Bonus: the effects turn out to be not horrible or harmful for them)

I mean, no news is good news! They have been using a lot of magic but are fine so far. Hope that they keep getting the casual “you are fine”.

13. Fjord and Jester having more powerful battle couple moments (since last episode they were being very cute and flirty). (Bonus: Jester heals or refuses to heal Fjord)

Fjord and Jester were such a battle couple this episode! All the fire damage from Fjord, spiritual weapon and toll the dead from Jester. It was really awesome to see. They also went in first against the TT!

14. Yasha and Beau having more cute and flirty moments (since last episode they were being a super powerful battle couple). (Bonus: they kiss)

“Come on babe this is the hottest you have been” lol it worked! The strength check worked guys! It’s the power of love. Beau also gave Yasha a little kiss!

15. Cad and Veth each gets at least one nice RP moment or battle moment (would love to see them interact more honestly, they have an interesting dynamic).

Cad got to fly around Aeorian town as a stealth agent, fun! Veth had a little moment with Caleb when they were doming up. Also, she got to kill Otis, so I’m sure she is pretty happy right about now.

16. At least one of the party members gets tempted by a strange, powerful or magical item/location/opportunity etc. and attempts to push the button.

I mean, Fjord was really tempted by exploring the rest of the Aeorian cityscape. Who could blame him though.

17. Everybody stays relatively happy and very much alive by the end of this episode (probably will end on a terrifying cliffhanger, AGAIN).

Hey, I will take that as a win! The cat-and-mouse game starts again, except this time they are the ones on the offensive! Most impressive.

Score: 14/17 fulfilled, this episode fulfilled almost everything on my wish list and delivered even more excitement! Wow, what an episode. I’m so excited for how this is going to turn out!

#cr spoilers #c2e133 #critical role spoilers #critical role #the mighty nein #manifest list

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disregardcanon · 3 years

Text

rwby julie and the phantoms au featuring dead girl band rwby and jaune as the conduit. but like, jaune who just half-way cheated his way into music school

the year is 1995 and the girl band RWBY is a rising power in the indie music world. composed of four talented, each with a rich and interesting backstory for the public to latch onto, they’re well on their way to becoming LGBT icons- if not actual stars. weiss, blake, and yang are twenty and ruby is eighteen.

weiss schnee is the daughter of silicone valley tycoon jacques schnee, who made headlines when she cut off all her hair and ran away from home to join a queer girl band. she’s the second schnee daughter to leave home, winter having joined the military back in 1992. she’s the band’s lead vocalist, though she occasionally plays violin in tracks that they write it into.

blake belladonna is already a famous singer. she sprung onto the scene in 1992 in a duo known as “bellataurus”. acting as the full sonny and cher package, adam taurus served as both older boyfriend and older manager until blake broke from him and helped to form RWBY in 1994. she took her vocals, her piano skills, GUITAR skills, and her songwriting skills with her.

yang xiao long and ruby rose are legacies of the highest order. summer, raven, qrow, and tai formed a band when they were kids and they became some of the biggest rockstars of the seventies and eighties- and later some of the biggest scandals. raven and tai’s messy, public breakup after the birth of their daughter signaled the band’s death- but then the birth of tai and SUMMER’S child signaled an even bigger scandal. the tabloids had an absolute field day over the new baby.

yang learned lots of instruments, but mainly took up the drums from her dad. the same went for ruby, but she mainly stole qrow’s guitar and made him teach her to shred.

unfortunately, the media never stopped following the two kids around, even through ruby’s transition. in a mixed bag for the remnants of STRQ and their children, the media circus that followed ruby rose coming out as a girl in NINETEEN NINETY TWO. the remaining members of STRQ still had a lot of clout and fully put their support behind her, but transmisognyny’s a bitch and it still followed them everywhere. yang coming out publicly as a lesbian neither helped nor hindered the situation, but it did make ruby feel a bit less alone.

the girls formed their band about a year before their- uh, UNTIMELY deaths in 1995. this came 3 days after a confrontation between blake and adam, where she promised that she would never, EVER date him again. she wouldn’t even work with him again. she and her band were going to become stars and actually help make social changes, instead of them just bullying her into going along with whatever THEY want from her and keeping her mouth shut because politics kills careers.

they’re playing the ORPHEUM! the theater where so many bands have gotten their big break! she doesn’t need him now and she didn’t need him then.

eating bad street hot dogs after the warm up for a performance that blake promised adam 3 days ago would be the best that she ever gave- well. that’s just a weird coincidence, right?

cue 2020.

jaune arc has recently gotten into his first semester at a prestigious music college in the LA area, close to his family’s home where he still lives. the garage/studio out back remains largely untouched. half of that’s because cleaning the place out would be a lot of work, but half of it’s because his parents feel bad about the idea of cleaning out all of STRQ’s old recording equipment that both summer and tai promised they “didn’t want anymore” while selling the house in the wake of their daughters’ deaths.

it’s not like the area is really suitable as a garage, and the arcs can spare a little room just in case those people ever change their minds.. even though they haven’t in twenty five years.

jaune’s house isn’t completely empty because he still has one of his older sisters going to college in LA at the same time, but it’s preeetttyy empty. his parents are hands off at this point and don’t even wonder how their baby who never even took any music lessons has gotten into a school like this.

it’s not like he doesn’t sing and sing pretty well, but they’re not even certain he can read music. spoiler alert: he can’t.

jaune is actually VERY good at working by ear and performing, but his music education growing up was lacking. on all levels. his parents encouraged him to do sports as his primary activity and he had no time for anything else and his public school music ed did not get him what he needed to go to music school.

frankly, he doesn’t even know what a treble clef is called. so. he’s a bit behind when going into his college classes. he was only able to fake the paperwork to get into music theory II, but considering that he’s. uh, completely unaware of what those notes mean he’s a bit fucked.

he’s always just been able to pull the song out of his ass because he listened to enough music to learn stuff by ear, but now he’s supposed to work through all this stuff with notation and he MIGHT BE DYING

he’s assigned to a group project with ren and nora and pyrrha and, well, thank god pyrrha notices and is kind enough to try to fill in the cracks.

but there’s a lot of cracks, you know? he’s barely pulling the grades that he needs to not get kicked out of the program at the moment, and he’s not entirely sure how to go about getting an accompanist for his end of semester showcase and ren and nora are already working together (they both play guitar and sing together) and pyrrha’s a soloist and -

oh god, he’s going to get kicked out of this program, isn’t he?

pyrrha keeps talking him down out of the anxiety because she is very kind and has a very big crush because jaune still has noticed that she’s a pop star that wanted to (but is failing to) have a normal college experience.

she lets him borrow her copy of RWBY’s first and only album and lets him take it home to listen to it. he decides to listen to it in the studio because he knows that’s where music, at one point, happened.

and it of course summons the souls of all four girls. they have ghostly mischief as they try to figure out how to make things work, and realize that while people who aren’t jaune can’t see them- people can HEAR THEM. and then when they play along with jaune for his end of semester show case- they realize that people can SEE THEM when they play with him.

pyrrha is confused about why jaune’s hologram band looks so much like RWBY, and she’s a little jealous and hurt that he’s been keeping this from her while letting HER bear the brunt of helping him with his struggles. jaune doesn’t know how to say that yeah, those are the actual ghosts of RWBY.

petty drama, petty drama, the girls are feeling suffocated by the fact that they’re actually dead and can’t interact with anyone who’s alive. ruby decides to go clear her head and meets another, very sweet and enthusiastic ghost named penny who likes to skateboard.

penny is very sweet and ruby has what is known in show biz as a CRUSH. ruby learns a bit about how this ghost stuff works from her (some powers, about the unfinished business being what’s tying them to the land of the living, that she is VERY GAY) and she comes back to her friends to say hello yes i know things now and am also gay. wasn’t positive about that before but it’s a fact now

here’s where i lose my thread and am too tired to find it again but other things

1. ironwood is the villain of this. if you’re familiar with jatp, he serves the same function as caleb covington if not the exact same motives. he seals souls to him by a contract but with the express purpose of building a safe afterlife for ghosts... by making sure that all of them are under his control. winter, who died in one of the united state’s middle eastern campaigns is his right hand ghost.

weiss is majorly conflicted by this because. it’s winter, you know? it’s winter. and it seems like this guy is trying to make things better for ghosts, right? he’s got a homebase and he can make them visible sometimes and make it so they can eat food and lots of stuff. but it comes with a heavy level of control.

he doesn’t go after the girls until later because he thinks that they’ll come back, but when he DOES... the fact that he owns penny’s soul and doesn’t see her or any of the souls under his control as full people comes up in an ugly way.

2. adam taurus is the trevor wilson of this, but waaaayyy worse. he did in fact kill the girls and pillaged what he could of blake’s songs to record and put out under his own name. he‘s a big star, but a fading one, and he has a few vengeful ghost coming for him.

3. winter is a ghost, but whitley is a ghost of himself. at this point he’s forty and still doesn’t even know what he wants because he’s molded himself into what his dad wants so thoroughly. getting him to realize that he wants more and wants things for himself definitely comes up. winter also helps take down ironwood and free the souls. eventually

4. jaune IS a necromancer. he’s going to be able to see penny and others and eventually can give ghosts the power they need to be seen whenever they want. RWBYJNPR eventually becomes a big band that plays together sometimes

5. raven only came back for a few days for yang and ruby’s funeral before disappearing. qrow fell from grace quite dramatically when he accused adam taurus of murder with no evidence and became the laughing stock of america. he kept trying to find something that would fill the holes in his life, but he hasn’t lucked out with that yet... except the alcoholism, maybe.

tai and summer are still together, but they’re pretty miserable and they moved far away from LA to get out of the spotlight.

RWBY gets summer, tai, and qrow back together on purpose... and raven shows up when she sees her dead daughter singing on national television. the STRQ reunion is awkward and stilted, but things get better from there.

strq instruments

summer: vocalist with some piano

raven and qrow: bass and standard guitar respectively with some vocals

tai: drummer with some vocals

6. pyrrha and jaune eventually actually become the great duo that adam tried to market himself and blake as. sorry not sorry

7. not sure how they do it but they DO prove that adam murdered them and all of them including qrow get Vindication TM

8. the bumbleby isn’t a big plot point but they were dancing around getting together when they died and it happens slowly once they’re back <3

#rwby aus #jaune arc #team rwby #team strq #arkos #nuts and dolts #bumbleby #ruby rose #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #schneeblings

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raineydaywrites · 3 years

Text

working on from then til now (part 3 of 5)

link to part 1 (x), part 2 (x), ao3 (x)

As more and more days passed with no sign that Angus had said anything to the Director about what Taako had told him, he started to relax a little, wondering if the kid maybe had chosen not to say anything at all.

Taako didn't understand that, but he wasn't going to question it when that might prompt Angus to reconsider. Maybe the kid had decided not to break up the Reclaimer team. Sure, Magnus and Merle could get the relics too, but the three of them worked well together and all, so it might be too much of a pain to replace him now.

Maybe the kid even decided to spare him because he liked Taako? He'd asked for more magic lessons after the first, and Taako had agreed, because he was still bored, and that first magic lesson had proven surprisingly fun, and Angus had talent. He was hard on himself, but Taako knew how to pick up on genuine talent when he saw it.

He really hoped it was one of those first explanations, and not the one that sometimes snuck into his mind late at night, when the worst thoughts always arrived.

He really hoped that Angus wasn't scared of him. He might be. Had a right to be. Taako had killed a lot of people, and he was a powerful fucking wizard, and he'd even threatened him- jokingly- about what he'd do if Angus ever surpassed him in wizardly talents.

Not to mention the fact that his Umbra Staff had randomly blasted Ango's macarons with fire for no apparent reason. Angus seemed to believe Taako when he said that the Staff had been acting on its own- but what if he didn't?

It was an irrational fear. Angus wouldn't have asked for more magic lessons if he was afraid of him. He'd just avoid him, right?

But irrationality never stopped anxious thoughts from plaguing anybody.

Angus didn't know what to do. He liked Taako. He enjoyed spending time with him, and he was really happy that Taako had agreed to keep teaching him magic.

He wanted it to be as simple as that.

But he couldn't forget who Taako was. He couldn't stop thinking that it was a betrayal to his parents to like their killer so much.

He couldn't stop thinking of Taako fondly.

The more time he spent with Taako, the weirder he felt about all of it. The more he found himself loving Taako. The more he found himself hating himself for the betrayal.

He needed to confront Taako, but instead he was befriending him. What was he thinking?

As he let his thoughts stew, he was embarrassed to realize that the Director was speaking to him. Probably had been for a bit, judging by the tone of her voice when she said his name.

"Angus?"

"I- I'm so sorry, ma'am, I got distracted. Could you repeat that?" Angus said, blushing.

"I was asking if you're okay, Angus," the Director said, brows furrowed together in concern as she watched him.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm fine!" Angus said.

"Really?" The Director did not seem to believe that at all.

"Well- no- I mean- I'm having a personal issue. But it won't interfere with my work, I promise!" Angus assured.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?" the Director said, and she hesitated before sitting down next to Angus on the little bench he'd been on for- he wasn't sure how long.

"Not really," Angus sighed. He wished that she could. It would be so nice if he could tell her everything and have her present a neat solution, but it couldn't happen.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

Angus did. But if he told her, then it would only make things more complicated. If he told her, then she'd have to decide if Taako's abilities outweighed the fact that he'd been responsible for such a tragedy as the Glamour Springs disaster. She was a really good person, and Angus didn't think that such a decision would weigh easy on her mind. He didn't want to make things harder for her.

Maybe he'd tell her, if he thought she could actually fix everything, but he didn't. He was having a conflict of emotions and morals, and he had to figure it out for himself. No one else could do it for him.

Besides which, it felt like a betrayal to Taako to share something like that, that Taako had shared with him in confidence. He didn't want to get Taako in trouble when he still hadn't even figured out how he felt about all of this.

"I don't think- that I can. It's not my story to tell," Angus said, finally.

"I understand," the Director said. "But if you ever need to talk, please know that I will listen."

She stood then, but didn't walk away quite yet.

"But I urge you to talk to someone about it. Perhaps the individual whose story it is. It's important to communicate about your struggles. Sometimes you can't, I know," she said, and her voice took on a very sad, longing tone, and Angus wondered again what her life had been like before this. "But- through all the difficulties I've had, I've found that it's better when you have people at your side. There will always be problems that you cannot be open about, but that makes it all the more important to be open when you can."

There was a sincerity and a weight to her voice that made Angus want to listen to her advice.

"Thank you ma'am. I'll- see what I can do," Angus offered, giving a bright smile to thank her for her words. She so clearly meant them, and it meant a lot to Angus that she wanted to help.

"Good. I hope that your issue eases up soon. You deserve- I only want what's best for everyone," she smiled back at him, and Angus found himself feeling a little lighter.

She was right, much as he hated the thought of airing out everything.

He would never get past this if he didn't communicate about it.

He had to speak with Taako.

When Angus had asked to speak in private, Taako had immediately gone tense. This could only be about one thing.

He'd hoped that Angus wouldn't feel the need to talk about the situation ever again. It wasn't exactly something that Taako liked to relive.

But what was he supposed to do? The kid deserved to be heard out. He deserved to deal with the kid's reaction. And anyway, Angus had a sword hanging over Taako's head in the form of knowing Taako's biggest secret.

Taako didn't think that Angus wanted to blackmail him, but he also knew that Angus could and would under the right circumstances.

So he agreed, and found himself in Angus' dorm room, waiting for judgement.

Angus' room was kind of adorable, Taako hated to admit. It was small, and his bed had a bunk that no one used- the moon base had a limited amount of real estate, and clearly the Director had struggled with finding a space that was appropriate for a kid to live in. Angus needed his own room since he was, like, a child and couldn't bunk with an adult stranger, but the single bed rooms were mostly suites, with kitchens and sometimes other bedrooms, which Angus didn't need.

Kid had limited cooking experience, as evidenced by the sugar-less macarons, and he was too short for adult-human sized appliances and too tall for a gnome or dwarf sized kitchen to be very comfortable either.

It looked like she'd settled on taking a bunkbed out of one of the initiate-type dorm rooms, leaving Angus with a little more space and privacy. There was a desk against one wall, and Taako wasn't surprised to see that it was very neat, but the little stuffed toys lining the back of it were a cute surprise. They were clearly decorative, and Taako was sure that the kid would rather be caught dead than playing with them, but it was adorable anyway.

He had a bookshelf, half lined with colorful kids' chapter books, mostly Caleb Cleveland novels, and half with thick tomes in dark colors.

Taako tried to keep the grin on his face from becoming too soppy. It was cute yeah, but he was a stone-cold motherfucker, and he wouldn't be caught turning into mush over a dumb kid.

"So, what's up bubeleh?" Taako asked, dropping into the chair at the desk and leaning it back on two legs, trying to keep it casual.

"I need to talk to you about what happened at Glamour Springs," Angus said, his face drawn and serious.

Taako stopped rocking the chair, but didn't look over at Angus. So that confirmed that Angus knew everything. Must have done his research if he now knew where it had gone down.

"Shoot," Taako said.

"You killed forty people at Glamour Springs because you made a mistake with magic you weren't familiar with," Angus said.

Taako winced at the words like they were a physical blow, but they were certainly true.

Angus paused, but Taako didn't know what to say. What was there to say? He couldn't justify it any more than he already had.

"Two of them were Sam and Dianne McDonald," Angus said, voice wavering and thick. "My parents."

Taako felt his blood go cold and his mind go dark. No. Fuck. Gods, what had he done?

It had been a long time since Taako let himself think of his victims. He tried to avoid it most of the time. But here was a reminder, standing right in front of him, tears in his eyes. He found his mind casting back to that horrible moment all over again, trying to visualize them. Trying to pick them out from the crowd.

But he'd spent so long trying to forget that day, the crowd had just turned into a blur of horrified faces and dying people.

He'd always felt so bad about them that he'd rarely had much guilt to spare for the other victims- the families of everyone he'd killed. The parents and sibling and friends- the children that he had orphaned.

Whatever happened now, he wouldn't protest. His past had finally caught up to him, and he had no right to avoid it.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Angus said, and his voice cracked, and Taako felt a stabbing pain in his chest over it.

"What can I say?" Taako asked, and it was a genuine question. He wanted to say something that would help, but no words would undo what he'd done. "I'm sorry, Angus. I'm so fucking sorry."

Angus just sobbed at that. Taako always hated it when people cried, but he still found himself wanting to comfort the kid. He wanted to hug him and soothe him, which was a big difference from his usual tactic of running from emotions as fast as possible. But would his comfort even be welcome?

"I know you're sorry," Angus finally mumbled.

He brought up his hands to scrub tears from his eyes, pushing his glasses roughly out of the way in the process. He looked so little. He'd been even littler when he'd lost his parents.

Taako had expected anger if he ever met someone who loved any of his victims. Who wouldn't be angry at something like that?

But this was worse. It was so much worse than anger ever could have been. It broke his heart. He hated seeing Angus like this. He just wanted to make it better.

"Babe, come here," Taako said, reaching for Angus. It was instinctive, an offer without any conscious thought behind it. He wasn't good at comfort, but it seemed that his subconscious at least had some idea of how to do it.

He didn't expect Angus to listen. He hadn't expected the kid to immediately dart into his arms and start to cry into his shirt. He let it happen anyway. This was the least he could do after what he'd taken from the kid.

He held Angus close as the kid cried, offering soft comforting noises intermittently, feeling more helpless than he could remember ever feeling before.

Angus managed to cry himself into a state of exhaustion, and fell asleep right there in Taako's lap. Taako had never felt so guilty as he did then, realizing that the kid trusted him anyway. Realizing that he valued the kid's trust. Realizing that he never would have met this kid if he hadn't messed up so bad at Glamour Springs.

How dare he gain any happiness from that? It was selfish to be happy to have Angus in his life when it came at the cost of Angus losing his parents, and his parents and so many others losing their lives. He had no right to love Angus, let alone to be loved back.

Taako had long ago accepted that he was a selfish person, but this went so far beyond that. He couldn't seem to stop it though. And what was he supposed to do? Leave the kid to grieve alone, avoid facing responsibility for what he'd done? Surely that was worse.

Taako picked Angus up, gently, settling him onto the bed. He took off the kid's shoes and his glasses, setting them by the side of the bed for when Angus woke.

He didn't notice his own tears until one fell onto Angus' face as he was pulling the blanket over him, and then, having noticed, it was all he could do to keep his crying silent so as to not wake Angus.

He couldn't walk back to his room like this. He probably shouldn't leave Angus alone either.

Taako sat down on the wall farthest from Angus' bed, and clapped a hand over his mouth to hold back the urge to sob.

part 4 (x), part 5 (x)

#taz balance #taako taaco #angus mcdonald #taako adventurezone #taz lucretia #lucretia adventurezone #febuwhump #febuwhumpday20 #long post

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the-kaedageist · 4 years

Note

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” [what else could this be but widomauk?] xoxo

God, what a beast you spawned with this prompt. I haven’t even written Widomauk before!

Widomauk, #31: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” (1,928 words because WHAT)

The tavern was in a secluded part of Rosohna two blocks away from the Xhorhaus, sheltered in between a blacksmith’s shop and a large building that looked like it fulfilled some sort of need for municipal bureaucracy. Mollymauk located it at the end of his first two weeks of returning to the loving arms of the Nein, noting its presence on some sort of errand he was running with Beau, and within three days he found himself sitting at the counter, halfway to the bottom of a bottle of wine and trying not to think about red hair and blue eyes.

The first thing Molly had noticed was that Caleb was different. The whole group was, of course; they fit together like a puzzle, the sharp edges sanded down. The Nein felt like a family, and Molly wasn’t sure that there was still a place for him among their ranks, not anymore. Caleb’s changes weren’t even the most profound – that award obviously went to Veth, with her mischievous halfling smile and her avoidance of alcohol – but it was the change that went straight to Molly’s gut. Caleb smiled more. He was clean and had grown his hair long. He was as handsome as Molly had suspected, so long ago. However, past Caleb had been too much of a mess to be worth pining after.

This time, Molly was drinking his weight in wine, glancing around the bar looking for someone to take him home and distract him.

It wasn’t just Caleb, of course. It was resurrection – the last thing he’d wanted – and the avalanche of memories that had returned with the reawakening of his body. It was being whisked halfway across the continent by Caleb’s magic to a city shrouded in darkness, the Nein’s new home, brought to a house filled with memories of him and a hot tub named with his initials.

It was realizing the person they remembered wasn’t quite the person he was, and worrying what they would do about that once they figured it out.

Thankfully, before Mollymauk could get too maudlin, a handsome drow entered the tavern. He was a tall man with the muscles of a soldier, distracting Molly away from his existential angst with a coy look. He took his wine and his low spirits and joined the man at his table, and banished all thought of existential despair – and attractive redheads – from his mind for the rest of the evening.

A week later, he was back. He didn’t drink as much, that time – Jester had teased him a bit about having to cure his hangover, and Molly didn’t want to risk the group thinking he hadn’t grown along with them. Another drow caught his eye this time, with an androgynous haircut and elegantly bejeweled ears, and Molly distracted himself quite heartily with them, not stumbling back home to the Xhorhaus until the early hours of the morning.

Caleb was waiting up, sitting out in the front of the house, his profile lit gently by the string of lights from Caduceus’s tree.

“Beau was worried,” Caleb said, his face unreadable.

“I’m fine.” Molly brushed past him and into the house, which was quiet and dark. Soft footfalls signaled that Caleb was following, and a moment later, three globes of light swirled in the air around him, lighting the downstairs interior.

“You keep leaving,” Caleb said stubbornly. “You didn’t even tell us where you were going.”

“I can take care of myself,” Molly told him, not appreciating the reminder that the rest of the team was now double his strength. He quickly climbed the stairs to the “guest room” which had become his own before Caleb could continue his scolding and was unconscious only a few seconds before his head hit the pillow.

The third time, he didn’t have the opportunity to pick up anyone.

“So this is where you go,” said a familiar accented voice as Molly glanced forlornly into his stein of ale. A moment later, Caleb seated himself heavily beside him, his hair gleaming almost too-bright in the candlelight. Molly looked away, catching the eye of the bugbear who was bartending. The bugbear, who had heard a bit too much about Caleb to make Molly completely comfortable, raised his eyebrows and brought Caleb some of the same ale without being asked.

“This is where I go,” Molly said awkwardly as Caleb took a sip of ale.

They drank comfortably in silence for a few moments, giving Molly time to study Caleb out of the corner of his eye. Caleb was comfortable, now, clever and confident and far more alive. He still wore trauma like a second skin, but it was also clear that being with the Nein had started him along the path of slowly healing. Molly wanted to watch him constantly, cataloguing all the ways he was different – and he wished he’d been present to watch the transformation in real time. Instead, he was still the same shitty charlatan, low-level and up to his ears in lies and bullshit memories.

It wasn’t until he’d finished his first ale and started on a second that Caleb turned to speak. “What is wrong, Mollymauk?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t send Caduceus out to fetch me,” Molly said, staring into his stein. “Isn’t that his role in the group? He sorts the rest of you out?”

“We are all capable of sorting the others out,” Caleb said, a hint of a grin at the corner of his mouth. “We just, most of the time, choose not to.”

Molly didn’t want to think about the fact that he’d died and been replaced by a competent cleric who was clutch in battle. He drained his ale to the bottom of his stein and held it up. The bugbear bartender, by now a dear friend, gladly filled it back up and took the proffered coin.

“Are you going to tell me?” Caleb asked. The strangeness of it – Caleb trying to help, Caleb here next to him, dressed in Xhorhasian fine clothing with his hair drawn back into a soft ponytail, Caleb’s body thrumming with power even beneath the surface – struck Molly all at once, and he took in a deep breath for courage.

It would be so easy, to turn around and look Caleb deep in the eyes and be honest. To tell him he was feeling out of place, broken into tiny pieces, empty once more. To flat-out admit that he didn’t know if he was really the person the Nein had remembered for all this time.

Instead, he chose the easy way out, because it was what Mollymauk Tealeaf did. Oh, he put on a good show, putting on a saucy pout and trying to slur his words more than necessary, but he still made a choice not to confront the real elephant in the room.

Instead, he steeled himself and said, “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

He watched the gears turn behind Caleb’s gaze. This was it. Caleb would give him a look of disgust or sadness and leave him to his own pity party. Caleb, whose boundaries were practically an armored bastion, would never let this sort of comment pass.

Caleb was staring at him, mouth agape. He shook himself slightly. “You’ve been…kissing strangers, pretending that they’re me?”

It wasn’t a lie, but the dumbfoundedness seemed a bit over the top. Caleb was stupidly hot. Was it that hard to believe? “It’s been difficult. You don’t really look like a drow.”

Caleb wheezed a bit beside him, and it took Molly a minute to realize he was laughing.

He didn’t even think he’d seen Caleb laugh, before.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb said, waving a hand in his direction. “I’m not laughing at you. I just…yes, I can imagine I do not look like a drow.” He met Molly’s gaze with some intensity, surprising him. “I’m also sorry you have felt the need to…play make-believe.”

Something bitter twisted inside Molly, his expression growing sour. “You don’t have to patronize me,” he muttered, dragging his gaze away. He took one last gulp from his ale and set it down. “I’m sorry you drew the short straw and came to fetch me. I’ll let you finish your drink in peace.” He started towards the door, fully intending to stumble out into the night and go find another tavern to drink in. Maybe he’d go dancing.

A hand caught his around the wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to find Caleb watching him. “I did not draw the short straw,” Caleb said, his voice quiet but intense. “You mean a lot to all of us, Mollymauk. I have been worried about you. I have been through much, but I have never been dead and brought back to a world changed.”

Molly didn’t meet his eyes. “It sucks,” he said.

“I dreamed of you,” Caleb said conversationally. “For months, afterwards. You haunted all of us, but me, especially.” He gently tugged Molly back in to sit on the barstool on his other side, facing him. “I never—I was not in a place, where I could have—but I think I knew.” Despite the incoherence of his words, there was a confidence in his shoulders as he leaned over and pressed his hand to Mollymauk’s heart. It was beating so intensely that Molly was sure that Caleb could feel it through all the layers of clothing. “There was a connection, between us.”

“There was,” Molly said faintly. Gods, how the tables had turned.

Caleb gave him a wry smile. “I spent months thinking how to give back the gift you gave me,” he said. “Now, we have gifted it back ten times over. We have all grown and changed, surpassed the people we were originally and become something more. And you are one of us, as you always have been. You will have your chance to grow into us too.”

Caleb grasped Molly’s face between his own and Molly’s mouth went dry. For a moment, he thought Caleb was going to kiss him, and those blue eyes did stray momentarily to Molly’s mouth as though he was thinking about it. Instead, Caleb leaned over and pressed his lips to the center of Molly’s forehead, a parody of a moment long ago, in a mineshaft in the Marrow Valley with flames all around them.

“You’re one of us,” Caleb said, “And I don’t know the person you’ll become, but I am interested to find out.”

Molly felt his eyes fill with tears, unbidden and unwanted. He quickly blinked them away.

Caleb released his face, leaning back on his stool and studying him. “If you are still looking for people to kiss,” he continued slowly, as though he couldn’t quite believe the words were leaving his mouth, “I do not think you will need to pretend, any longer.”

Mollymauk stared at him, barely able to hear the sounds of the other patrons of the tavern over the hammering of his heartbeat.

He swallowed hard. “Well then, Mr. Caleb,” he said, the old playful nickname tasting almost foreign on his tongue. He leaned forward on the barstool, knocking their knees together and slowly leaning his forehead against Caleb’s to give him time to move away if he chose. Caleb watched him with wide eyes, but didn’t flinch. Instead, he glanced back down at Molly’s mouth, licking his lips.

“Yes, Mr. Mollymauk?” he asked, a bit of a waver in his voice.

“You talk too much,” Mollymauk said right before he kissed him firmly.

Give me a dialogue prompt!

#widomauk #cr fanfic #critical role fanfic #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #my fics #writing #memes #asks #ariadne-mouse

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thefiveavengers · 4 years

Text

jester and sexuality/romantic inclinations

so, this is my last day of summer break (actually the day before last, but tomorow is monday) and I decided to put into words what my thoughts about this dicey, dicey subject are. First, these are solely my opinons based on 1) watching the second campaign, 2)watching talks machina and the meta knowledge that comes with that and 3) assuming the players are playing in good faith and are open minded to organic changes that might come to their characters along the way.

and second, I do have my biases, and I come from the following inclinations: I ship lavorregard, and I don’t believe Jester is straight.

That said let’s begin. I’ve written a far amount about the lavorregard ship, but mostly focused on Beau’s feelings and her perspective. Right before the ep that Beau reveals the crush to Nott I wrote the following: “ If I were to put a chronology on Beau’s feelings for Jester it would go something like that: 1)“This girl is cute and somehow I like her way more than I usually like, well, anybody” 2) “This girl is cute and we are… friends???” 3) “This girl is cute, we are friends and I love her” 4) “We are friends, I love her AND I think she is hot” 5) “This girl is hot, I love her and maybe I love her as more than friends?”

But last ep I think it shifted to, “I’m definetely into Jester as more than friends and she’s never been hotter AND I think I’m getting to a point where I’m ready to actually process my feelings regarding that and be open about it.”

And lo and behold, the very next ep we saw Beau actually processing her feelings when talking to Nott. But what about Jester?

I’ve seen some people express the idea that “wouldn’t it be galaxy brain if all three cr ladies had independently decided when creating their characters that they are lesbians?” and honestly, while a cute thought, I don’t think that’s what’s happening. In my opinion what happened was, Marisha created Beau as a lesbian and she made sure to make that clear as possible from the get go, and one of the reasons I think she did that is because she entered the campaign looking to avoid a pc/pc romance, since the one she was in in cr1 took such a toll on her. She probably figured it would be a safe bet, playing a lesbian she would shield herself from the male characters and most likely the other female characters would not be interested in Beau, right?

Enter Ashley Johnson. Honestly I don’t think Ashley had such a clear idea that Yasha was (or is) a lesbian. She had a wife, and from what has been said in canon Zualla was her only romantic and sexual relationship. Now, from what we’ve seen Yasha hasn’t expressed any interest in men, but to be fair she hasn’t really expressed interest in much anybody. She called Jester adorable in the very first ep and she seems to be fond of Beau’s flirtations even if not directly responding to them. The conversation where Yasha has said that she has “seen {Beau} a lot” coupled with one of the songs in Yasha’s playlist has me convinced that Yasha has some kind of feelings for Beau, even if is just a small crush. And I say this as someone who doesnt ship Beau/Yasha. I don’t think they would make a good match, but that doesn’t mean I’d deny either of them having interest in the other. But that doesn’t mean Yasha is for sure a lesbian who would never engage with a men ever. She seems pretty adamant on not having any romantic connections, so its hard to gauge really where her interests lie. She is for sure though a wlw.

Now, when it comes to Jester and Laura Bailey that’s when things get complicated. I would assume that most of us that have considered the possibility of Jester not being straight have read the excellent essay on comphet by tumblr user fuzzy-face ( https://fuzzy-face.tumblr.com/post/185001577009/you-make-your-own-fairytale-jester-comphet ), so I’m not gonna rehash what she’s said already. While I do agree almost wholeheartedly with this post, I’ll say this, I don’t think Laura Bailey when creating Jester set out to tell a story of a wlw learning how to overcome comphet. But (BUT!,!) I also don’t think her idea was Jester is totally straight and that’s that! I think she created Jester as a sexually and romantically inexperienced young woman that almost immediately got a crush on Fjord because, among other reasons, he reminded her of a hero from her smut books.

Recently, with the new upload of talks to the CR youtube channel, I rewatched this talks: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZqJzNj_1tI , which is about the ep a Hole in the Plan, deep into the pirate arc, but before the first big Beau/Jester moment, the conversation they had in the boat on ep 46. First I must express my annoyance at the fact that Laura and Marisha are the guests and yet at least 80% of the questions are about Fjord. I know it was in his arc, but COME ON! Also I was very surprised by how open they are talking about Fjord/Jester as if it were a done deal alaready. When anyone involved in Talks claim that they don’t do shipping questions, you should show them this ep because it is all about shipping questions. Anyways, Laura clearly states that Jester has a crush on Fjord (at the time at least) and she compares it to a super intense high school crush. So to me there is no refuting the fact that at least at some point Jester had a crush on Fjord.

What I do find it interesting is when you compare her answers in that talks to what she said in the most recent talks she’s participated ( https://youtu.be/_NmZ2b_Q3So ) which seem to at least indicate that Jester has, on a level or another, moved on from said crush. It’s also, the now infamous moment where Laura talks about Jester’s crush...es. We’ll get back to that.

That’s all good and dandy, but this is meta outside the game. Let’s go analyze actual in-game developments. As far as I can remember (and I’m not an expert in Fjord/Jester, so I might be forgetting something) these are the moments Jester spoke directly or inderectly about her crush on Fjord; when Caleb point blank asked her if she was sweet on him (to which she answered “I don’t know” and let’s keep that in mind); when she talked to nott about first kisses and the best thing she can say about it is that it didnt make her feel dead, and to me the most significant moment; when she asks the traveler how to make a boy like her. Now, I’ve seen some people band about this as irrefutable proof that Jester IS straight, otherwise she wouldnt be asking the traveler advice about boys, but in this case she wasn’t talking about boys in general, she was talking about ONE boy and that was Fjord.

And that’s the crux of the matter isn’t it? Jester has demonstrated sexual/romantic interest in one man and one man alone, and that’s fjord. That does not mean she is straight. It doesn’t even mean that she, if a wlw, is bi. Her crush on Fjord has been wrapped around in all these expectations and I think its hard to parse how much was just projecting, among other things, the romance her parents had. Also, let me comment on how all these developments were long ago, during the pirate arc, over one year ago in real time.

Jester has commented about Fjord’s appearance and Caleb’s and even pointed out to Reani that hot boi Essek was hot, but its all done very matter-of-factly. And if we are going to talk about Jester commenting on people’s apperances we have to acknowledge how Jester cannot SHUT UP about how she finds women beautiful. From Beau to Nott, from Reani to random shop girl in Uthodurn and her obssession with the Bright Queen in particular its all very in your face. Once someone wanted to argue with me that this is just how straight girls air their insecurities, and even if that’s true and not just misogyny, the only time Jester commented on a woman’s apperance with any kind of insecure note was one time when she compared herself to her mother.

Look, the thing is, if we take at face value every comment Jester has made about Fjord’s looks and strenght, we also have to take at face value how distraught she looked and sounded facing the idea that Beau’s new vestiments wouldn’t let her abs show. Is it funny? Yes, but it’s funny for the idea that Jester is very appreciative of Beau’s abs, which, I’m still waiting for the straight explanation if anyone if willing to give me.

To end, this goddamned book that I’ve started, the thing that gives me the most certainty that Jester is not straight and that a Beau/Jester romance is not only possible but likely is that I do not believe Laura Bailey is cruel. If she had no interest in exploring the possibility of a not-straight Jester and a B/J romance she wouldn’t been doing what she has been doing for awhile now.

And what do I mean about that? I mean that even before Beau’s confession there’s been a different dynamic to their relationship. I already mentioned the “but can I see her abs????” incident, but also her encouragement about beau’s qualities and abilities (beau, you’re super strong), using the traveler as a proxy to her feelings (the traveler thinks you’ll do great, the traveler thinks you’re awesome, the traveler loves you), waiting to hold beau when she went up a column and showing disapointment when she didnt fell into her arms, listening to Beau regarding her wanting to confront her dad, being super, and I mean SUPER bummed out when Beau and Reani kissed and took a walk. And after the confession things ramped up.

Like, that was Laura Bailey listening to the conversation between Nott and Beau, not Jester. She could have had continued to play out their friendship as usual, but that’s not what she did. She used this opportunity to play the romantic possibility as never before. Making sure that Jester shielded Beau’s body in combat, being VERY specific that when her double cured her, she leaned over her body and put her hands to her face and even contradicting Matt, pointing out that when she woke up, it wasn’t the laughing hand that she first saw, but Jester’s face. And then there’s ep 89, the juiciest lavorregard ep since ep 46. It’s romantic comedy set up, one character confesses their love to a third one, and the one character who is the target of that love starts a conversation with “Are you avoiding me? Because I think I know why.” That’s a romantic trope ladies and gents, and Laura Bailey the genius she is played it to perfection. Not being sure why she was so upset about not curing Beau (a sentiment that battle mercy Jester has never expressed before). Wanting to punish Beau’s dad for not treating her right, getting to an agreement after arguing about tarot and molly. Afterwards engaging Fjord in an activity that she usually associates with beau, that goes disastrously and thanks to the dice gods, I could see, in real time the comphet melting away.

And concluding with the fact that she bet 20 extra gold on Beau on the down low.

So coming back to the idea of Jester having crush...es, to me is very clear those crushes are, the one she has/had on Fjord and her new emerging one on Beau. do I think Jester herself is aware of these feelings? Not really, but Laura sure is.

look this is not about being entitled or acusing anyone of queerbaiting if my ship doesnt pan out. its just, you know, laura’s sister is a lesbian, and I do think that gives people some perspective that they might not have, and I genuinely don’t think she would be playing things as she is, if she didn’t have any interest in playing out to the end.

#critical role #jester #jester lavorre #beaujester #lavorregard #this got super long and took me a few hours #but anyways these are most of my feelings regarding queer jester

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chaos-burst · 5 years

Note

Since Taliesin said that Molly would never even consider seducing Caleb bc Damage™, what about a fic called "When you're ready"

Caleb isn’t sure how it happened, even though he knows exactly when it started.

What he knows is this:

Mollymauk has been flirting with him. Caleb knows this because he has watched him for a very long time, flirting with other people, winking, swishing his tail playfully, licking his lips when he is interested in someone. Caleb has catalogued every movement, every expression, every dip of Mollymauk’s voice when he speaks with someone he finds attractive.

His memory is flawless.

So when Mollymauk’s voice dips lower when he tells Caleb that his newest spell in impressive, Caleb knows. It’s in the way Mollymauk’s eyes linger on his face and how he smiles--almost absentmindedly--when he watches Caleb read in the corner of an inn while everyone else is drinking and having fun.

What Caleb also knows is:

Mollymauk always goes for what he wants. So it doesn’t make any sense that he would simply keep looking and smiling and flirting without ever getting physical. Without ever making innuendo that would suggest the two of them having sex. Mollymauk is very careful about the way he touches Caleb and it’s never suggestive. Never makes Caleb uncomfortable--as if Mollymauk has done all the calculations, has catalogued Caleb’s reactions to being touched in different ways, and then proceeds to stay in his lane.

Mollymauk Tealeaf, by definition of his very being, never stays in his lane.

Except when it comes to Caleb Widogast, it seems.

Caleb is a very smart man, but he has no idea what is going on. He’s able to understand the most complicated concepts, the most difficult types of magic, mathematical equations, elaborate grammatical structures of languages long dead. But he cannot for the life of him figure out one chaotic disaster of a Tiefling.

At this point, Caleb is sure he understands Jester better than he understands Mollymauk, and that is a feat he never hoped to accomplish when they first started traveling together.

It has been almost 15 months since Mollymauk came back from the grave a second time. It has been almost 14 months since Mollymauk started flirting with Caleb.

And in those 14 months not once has he tried to kiss Caleb, or put his clawed hands on Caleb’s thighs, or pushed him into a wall again, like he did so long ago in those catacombs.

It took Caleb 6 months to understand that he is, in fact, helplessly in love with Mollymauk Tealeaf.

But Caleb is still Caleb.

And of course it takes drastic measures to push Caleb over the edge.

What happens is this:

For all his work with fire, Caleb is still helpless when confronted with it. He throws flames around like it is nothing, he builds walls of fire and throws flaming spheres across battlefields. His own fire never burns him, but other people are just as adapt as him sometimes.

So when the flaming strike shoots towards him Caleb thinks for just a second that it is poetic justice that he is going to die just like his parents did. He can hear the twin screams of Jester and Beauregard.

Then a body wraps around him, a familiar, solid body covered in scars. Soft hair tickles him in the face for just a moment as Mollymauk--stupid, impulsive, self sacrificial Mollymauk Tealeaf--puts himself between Caleb and the flames.

Caleb’s panic engulfs him like a raging storm when the heat gets almost unbearable, but Mollymauk is still standing, still hugging Caleb close to his chest, as if his life depended on it. His brain is short circuiting, he can feel the panic creeping at the back of his mind when he smells burning flesh, but his brain also provides him with one completely ridiculous fact:

This is the first time Mollymauk has hugged him.

When the flames stop coming Mollymauk shudders around him and his grip loosens, before he stumbles to his knees.

“Mollymauk”, Caleb rasps. “What on--”

“Tiefling”, Mollymauk croaks and has the audacity to wink at Caleb. “Fire resistance, darling.”

Then he falls unconscious.

Caleb’s mind goes blank, because no, not again, not again, not again, not for him of all people.

Beauregard kills the man who threw fire at him with her bare hands. Caleb knows that he should probably fall into his catatonic state right now because of the smell and the sight of Mollymauk’s burned skin and--

Caleb has to ask him. He will not allow Mollymauk to die yet again, because how often can they tempt fate and bring people back from the dead? Caleb cannot know for sure, so he has to ask. He needs to know. He wants to understand.

He is there when Mollymauk opens his eyes the next day. The pale sunlight filtering through the milky windows makes his purple skin look strangely pale. Caleb looks at all the faint, thin scars on his upper torso, his neck, his arms. What a reckless way of fighting, he thinks, to hurt yourself in favor of making someone else suffer.

To hurt yourself so others might get away.

Caleb swallows.

“Hey, Mr Caleb”, Mollymauk says with an almost smile. “You ok?”

Caleb scoffs.

“I did not get burned to a crisp.”

“Funny how that works, huh?”

Caleb stares at him.

“Why?”, he asks bluntly. Before he can chicken out again, he has to ask. Mollymauk blinks at him slowly and it reminds Caleb so much of Frumpkin that he feels a smile tug at his lips. Damn it. He is so painfully in love with this ridiculous man, he almost can’t bear it.

Almost.

“Well, I told you, Mr Caleb. I’m fire resistant--”

“No. That is not what I mean. Why--why do you... What do you want from me, Mollymauk?”

It sounds harsher than Caleb had anticipated and he can see Mollymauk’s face fall. He watches as Mollymauk swallows and turns his head away, then takes a deep, controlled breath before his red eyes find Caleb’s face.

“Ah”, he says and manages a crooked smile. “We’re talking about that now, huh?”

“You almost died. Again. I feel like it is foolish not to speak about those things if you might just be dead again tomorrow.”

Molly nods slowly and swallows again.

“To be honest, I’m not sure what you want to hear. I know that you know how I feel about you. So what exactly is it that you want to talk about?”

Caleb’s heart stumbles in his chest and he balls his hands into fists.

“I--Why? Why do you--what--”

“Caleb”, Mollymauk says and Caleb stops his stuttering. He closes his mouth and it costs him every drop if willpower to keep his eyes on Mollymauk’s face.

“I’ll say this once, ok? Because honestly, telling the truth is just exhausting, but I guess I can manage for you. I am very much in love with you, Mr Caleb. Maybe you think that’s ridiculous, maybe you even think I’m not that bad, maybe you don’t care at all. Who knows. I certainly don’t! But I know what kind of guy you are, yeah? I know you have... your baggage. That’s fine with me. All I’m saying is. I’m here. If, or you know. When you’re ready.”

Caleb stares at him. He’s not sure he heard correctly.

“You--I--”

“Yes. Also, don’t think about complaining because I saved your life. You can just buy me a drink or two. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Don’t tell Beau I told you so, or she’ll hit me again.”

Caleb feels like he should comment on Mollymauk’s confession. Say anything. But his throat is dry and his heart is hammering in his chest so hard, Caleb is sure it might just fly out of his rib cage. Damn this ridiculous man.

Maybe he can just tell Mollymauk that he doesn’t mind the flirting. That he is in fact in love with Mollymauk as well. Because Mollymauk doesn’t know and still he flirts and he is waiting.

The corners of his eyes are burning and none of those words come out.

“I will... I will get back to you with... with that”, he croaks and it’s definitely the most stupid answer to a love confession the world has ever seen. Shame washes over Caleb like a tidal wave. But Mollymauk smiles at him.

“That’s fine, Mr Caleb. When you’re ready”, he repeats.

“When I’m... Ja. Ja, ok.”

#widomauk #critical role #critfic #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #caleb #mollymauk #this got way longer than i planned #but it's such a good prompt #taliesin knows what's up tbh #anyone romancing caleb should wait like a million years until that boy is ready to deal with shit #the only valid burn for caleb is a slow one #(pun kinda intended)#fanfiction #screeching into the void #text #ask #anon #Anonymous

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gaymessonmain · 5 years

Text

Serendipities and details

I wanted to write self-indulging Beauyasha. Sue me.

It is my headcanon that Beau learns things to impress Yasha but never gets to actually do it the way it’s planned because she’s a hecking disaster and I went with the most obvious one here. There will be more cause I can’t help myself.

Just a skit, barely fanfiction. Hope you enjoy.

It’s during second watch, well into the night. They’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, rain pouring down and thunder rumbling too close for comfort. The sounds of the storm are so loud they have to yell at each other to be heard, the clank of metal against metal and the roar of magic flames drowning their voices and the cries of the falling and retreating figures around them.

Beauregard tries to focus, making use of all of her training, forces her eyes away from the blurry image of Yasha cleaving through a brigand like he’s made out of butter.

Yasha is blissfully unaware.

It doesn’t help that this is the first night after a long, long month of Yasha being away. Beauregard basks in her presence whenever she’s blessed with it, feels safer with her there than it’s probably wise to. The aasimar looks untouchable like this, prey to the addicting sensation of the rage coursing through her veins, fueling her movements and guiding the Magician’s Judge deep into some other bandit’s gut. The rush of adrenaline makes her whole body sing, muscles taut and pupils blown, the hint of a smirk playing on her lips when the thud of yet another body is lost to the growl of the tempest overhead.

It’s a sight to behold, but Beauregard shakes her head and turns, tapping the end of her bo against a sensitive spot on the lower back of a woman wilding dual daggers. The stranger sinks to her knees like a puppet whose strings have been severed, gasping for air.

They are used to this. Front line combat together. Since the very beginning, they’ve had this weird sort of synergism and they’ve become lethal with time and practice. Usually, they fight close to one another and turn into an unbreakable barrier, protectors and sentinels. The communication is easy, fluid, their bodies speak a language that’s primordial, instinctual. It takes no effort to understand the meaning behind a movement or a stance and that’s what makes them deadly, because they don’t need to talk. Because why waste precious time. Because they are women of action and it shows clearly in the battlefield.

They have no such luck this time, the ambush has left them divided and they can barely see each other through the curtain of rain. They need their words and they need them loud.

“Yash! Behind you!”

Maybe it’s dumb luck, or maybe Kord wouldn’t risk such a devoted worshiper as Yasha, but the skies keep quiet for those invaluable seconds and Beauregard hears Yasha roar. It’s followed by the sickening sound of flesh being carved through. The man once sneaking towards Yasha is now a lump on the ground. Lightning lights up the night sky. Beauregard sees his unfocused eyes and broken body, but Yasha ignores it, already moving towards the next target.

It’s something to be grateful for. The fact that Yasha has a habit of delving too deep in her thoughts, her instincts, her feelings, and pays little attention to the world around her.

Beau is personally appreciative of that because there would be no explaining many of the looks the monk sends her way at times. Curiosity or amusement are innocent enough. Lust, that could put her in a more compromising position, but she’s Beauregard and those who know her expect that from her already, so she could get away with it. Sometimes it’s unadulterated adoration of a kind that would put Jester’s speeches about the Traveler to shame and if Yasha ever noticed those, Beau would be utterly terrified.

Her friends notice, of course.

Caduceus is a force to be reckoned when it comes to catching her slip ups, but he’s the most respectful of the bunch of assholes she’s come consider her chosen family. Jester, Caleb and Fjord know too much not notice and they would bring them up at first, but now they’re wise enough to avoid the topic altogether after a few complicated confrontations. Nott, if she notices, decides to let go of it because they’ve had to deal with a grumpier-than-usual-Beau and nobody benefits from it. Clever girl.

Unavoidable, comes the thought. The hell Molly would put her through if he was here. It actually makes her smile even when the pang of pain hits her. The ache, she has come to learn, feels now dulled but will never entirely go away.

Right now, Beauregard considers while she parries a sword and her bo groans in protest, in the frenzy of battle and doing this thing she usually does where she runs her mouth without fucking thinking, she’s more grateful than ever for Yasha’s distinctive obliviousness.

This is the first time Celestial has slipped past her lips in the presence of another being since she learned enough of it to speak it out loud. This could have been catastrophic, if Yasha would have noticed. If anyone would have—

Caleb’s attention, Beauregard can tell as she kicks the sword away from the body at her feet, is fixated upon her.

The myriad of emotions hit her immediately; embarrassment at being caught red handed, fear at being confronted again, frustration at having no answer for the questions to come, resignation because this won’t be the last time this happens. It was happening way too often as of late and she just can’t help it.

Ultimately, Beauregard settles for containing the urge to groan and faceplant the ground and lay there forever. Just keep fighting, keep punching, keep dodging. Priorities. Stay alive.

The battle is over too soon.

Beauregard thinks of avoiding Caleb, but that would be a stupid move when they could still be being tailed by vengeful criminals who want them dead. Caleb is, in Nott’s words, very smart. He doesn’t utter a word about it. He keeps his mouth shut and Beauregard is so grateful she gives his shoulder a soft bump when she walks by him. Immediately regretting it when she catches his knowing eyes and this time, she does groan and rolls hers.

This is the first time it happens, and Yasha doesn’t notice until days after.

It comes to her, as it usually does, in a dream. A pretty vivid one, too. They’re sitting by a campfire, Beauregard and her. The monk is rambling, nothing new, but Yasha is mesmerized by it. She knows the words, broken as they sound, and they reach and pull somewhere deep inside of her. They make her feel nostalgic.

Beau grins goofily and the feeling dissipates as soon as it comes and Yasha wakes with a start.

Caleb is at her side going through a thick volume. It’s a quiet night and the stars are visible on the black canvas above; the cold autumn breeze can’t bother them while they stay inside the hut and the glowing orb above the wizard provides more than enough light to read. It makes him look eerily older and wiser, Yasha thinks. She tries to shake off the sensation left behind by the dream and stares blankly at Caleb, who is now staring back at her.

Everyone else is asleep, Frumpkin patrolling the area.

“Caleb, does— Did Beauregard—What languages does she speak?”

Yasha whispers, only for him to hear. Caleb mutters something in Zemnian and shakes his head, patting Yasha’s knee before going back to his book. It feels condescending and she’s about to say so, but he gives an unusual warm smile and speaks then, eyes still trained on the page.

“You should probably ask her in the morning,” is all he answers.

There are many battles Yasha has fought and won during her time with the Nein, and one that’s become impossible. While she lies there, pretending to rest, Yasha is glad Beauregard sleeps like a rock because her eyes drift towards her one too many times before the sun rises.

Beauregard, thank the Stormlord, is blissfully unaware.

#Beauyasha #Yashregard #Sentinel Babes #Beauregard Lionett #Yasha Nydoorin #Critical Role #Critical Role fanfiction #Critical Role fic #Critfic

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fiddler-unroofed · 5 years

Text

{four instances of a favor}

(quick author notes: the timeline skips a lot & I used greek for halfling because why not)

warnings for lowkey suicidal thoughts but generally just trying to convince yourself you’re okay with dying, and some mentioned but not very descriptive wounds

Prompt from @idonottlikethishellsite: from the list of shit i hope never actually happens-- been thinking a lot about how reincarnate is the lowest lvl spell that could change nott into something other than a goblin but would require her to die first. the thought of nott purposely wanting to use that spell and trying to talk caleb into it keeps me up nights.

***

"Would you ever let me die?"

The question is asked innocently enough, but it still gives Caleb pause. He turns to look at Nott, but she doesn't meet his glance. Her feet dangle over the tavern table she's sitting on. At her side, her flask lies, their cause for visit.

Caleb nods. "Ja," he says flatly. "Over my dead body."

(Not that it's worth much.)

Nott smiles at him, but it's strained. Her lips are clamped over her teeth like she's holding a secret. "That's very sweet."

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason." Her fingers twist into each other, and she fiddles with them aimlessly. Her feet have started to swing under the table. "Just one of those silly thoughts I get sometimes, Caleb, you know me."

"Mm." He does know her, and that's what worries him. It's only been a few weeks, and already he knows her like the back of his hand, like the color of the sky. He'd know her blind or deaf. Which, by the way, he'd have to be in order to believe such an obvious lie.

He lets it drop anyway. “Long day tomorrow," he says instead, and carefully watches for her reaction. “Lots of shopping.”

It worries him more when she gives him none. "Yeah," she says. Absently. Like she's still turning something over in her mind, molding it into shape. Caleb knows what's it like to overthink things, (he knows it far too well) and he knows it's not what's happening here-- but for the life of him he can't figure out what is.

"Yeah," he echoes in her voice. And then, returning to his own: "I was thinking we could stop by a book shop I found on the way here. It sold many things-- mostly books-- but I think you would like it." He tries for a smile. It falls short. They always do. "Lots of trinkets. For your collection."

Nott's expression remains blank, but by the way her ears droop Caleb knows his approach backfired. Shit.

"My collection," she agrees, fake cheerfully. It sounds as far from sincere as he's ever heard her. "I do love trinkets."

Caleb drops the pretense. "Look," he says hesitantly, "I know I am not the best person to talk to about... things. Or stuff. Or anything, really. But if there is something troubling your mind, something that I am able to help with--"

"No, no," Nott interrupts him. She jumps off the table and dusts herself off briskly. "I'm fine. I swear it. Just drank a drop too much, and well..." She gestures to herself sheepishly. "I'm not always a happy drunk, I guess. I'll be right as rain in the morning."

"Ah," Caleb says. He wants to believe her. He wants it more than anything else right now. "That is all?"

"That's all," Nott promises. She leans up, on tiptoes, and beckons for him to bend down. Caleb does, and before he knows it a sudden warmth tinges his forehead and Nott's pulling away with a look that he can only describe as familiar. He blinks at her owlishly, and she smiles. Still through clamped lips.

"Night, Caleb," she says, turning on her heel and already making her way across the tavern to where they've scoured up enough coin to book a room for the night.

"Good night," he says. He doesn't think she heard him.

Slowly, he reaches up and presses his fingers (the fingers of a murderer) against his forehead. The warmth has already left it.

"Good night," he repeats to no one in particular. It is a good night. No, maybe good is not that right word. It is a strange night, is what it is. Only on strange nights do your little goblin friends ask you odd questions and don't tell you what's wrong and kiss you on the forehead (it's so familiar, like his own mother's when she'd tuck him in at night) before going to sleep at 10 pm.

But then again, he reasons, she gave you her excuse. Who are you not to trust her? She says she drank too much, and this is another side to her you have yet to see. Just because you know her a few weeks does not actually mean you know her a lifetime. Who are you to claim that she's lying?

He stands up, a little more satisfied with his choice, and goes to head after where Nott left. The flask shines forlornly as he passes it, and he takes it by habit, shaking his head a bit at his little friend's forgetfulness.

Then he stops.

The flask is still full.

***

“D'you think you'd be upset?”

They've been on the road a while now, and Caleb is getting antsy. Only a while ago did they encounter a pack of vicious hyena-like creatures (he thinks they're called gnolls) and only a while ago did he have to watch as his little friend nearly got slashed in two. He tried to patch her up, tried to look past the amounts of crimson pouring out of her and do his best, but he's no cleric. Just a wizard.

(Just nothing.)

Nott trails after him now, her eyes drooping and with the faint tinge of iron to her scent. As she asks the question, she sways a bit, and Caleb instantly slows down.

“Upset?” he asks. “Over what?”

Nott shrugs. “Me. I dunno. If I died.”

Caleb stares at her, but she's resolute in not meeting his gaze. Something about the whole scene rings familiar in his mind, and he strains, trying to remember where they might have had this conversation before. A tavern? No matter.

“Ja,” he says, slowly. “I think I would be very upset.”

“Oh.” She rubs at her eyes. “Well, er… how upset? Like on a one to ten scale, maybe? Can I get an approx--”

“Nott,” Caleb says, and gods help him he's already starting to get upset thinking about it, “Are you planning something?”

Nott has the nerve to look offended. “What? No!”

“Then what are you asking me for?”

“It just doesn't make sense to me, that's all.” Nott shrugs, and her footsteps quicken a bit. Caleb picks up the pace as well. “I mean, you could always just revive me, right? You're a wizard. You're magic--” (and oh, how beautiful the word sounds on her lips, like glitter and awe and everything magic was, once, everything magic should be) “--and you're powerful. I don’t think I’d be gone for long.”

(Too powerful, some might say.)

Caleb swallows, and tastes bile at the back of his throat. “Yes, that is true. But I'm no cleric, Nott. And the idea of me reviving you does not cancel out how horrifying you dying would be.”

A pause.

“Do you. Want to die?”

No response. Not even a whisper. Caleb's heart sinks, and for a second, flames flicker in his eyes. He thinks about Nott, jumping in front of him to confront the gnolls. Nott, completely fine with the idea of being torn apart if it meant he would get away safe.

He grabs her arm. She freezes, and Caleb instantly adjusts his grip so it's not hurting her.

“I do not know what you're hiding,” he says softly. “But please. You know you can talk to me, ja? You know that I am here for you? I would do everything in my power for you. You know that, don't you?”

She looks up at him, just two golden eyes blinking in the dark. The mask hides her lower face, and he hates it. Hates not knowing what she's thinking. Hates only being able to read half of her.

“Yes,” she finally says, and relaxes in his grip. “I know. Thank you, Caleb.”

He lets go. That's not the answer he wanted, but he's never been one to push the matter. And Nott seems tired as it is right now.

“Let's camp out here for the night.”

“Okay.”

She helps him light the fire.

For once, his parents are the last thing on his mind.

***

“Caleb!”

Caleb looks up reluctantly from where he's poured over the newest book he's bought. It's a fascinating text all about transmutation and history, and it's wrapped up in the kind of red leather case that makes his heart skip a beat. Being broken out of the trance that comes with it is beyond infuriating.

He opens his mouth to snap out a ‘go away i'm reading’, but stops when he sees Nott's face. It's flushed and excited, pupils round and smile stretching from ear to ear. Something good must have happened. And he always has time for a shred of good news.

He slowly puts the book down and beckons her inside. She looks like she might explode.

“You seem... happy,” he says.

She nods, head bobbing as if on a spring. “As a matter of fact, I am!” she says giddily. “Read this.”

She shoves a bright blue book in his hands (where did she even get that) and waits, bouncing on the balls of her feet impatiently as Caleb examines it. It's a fairly old book, nothing like the red one Caleb was just reading but still in its decades. He squints at the letters before identifying them as Halfling.

He doesn't read Halfling.

Where on earth did Nott get this book?

He hands it back to her in confusion. “I appreciate the literary enthusiasm,” he says slowly, “But Halfling is a tongue I do not speak.”

“No, I know that,” Nott says in a voice that implies she did not, in fact, know that. “But it's a really easy passage, just go to page 117 and you'll see, I've taught you all the words you need to know!”

Caleb sighs and obliges her. Page 117 is in the middle of the book, and based on the scribbled in pencil marks and circled words, he has a feeling it's also the most read part.

He starts to read.

Reincarnation

Casting Time: 1 ώρα

Έκταση: Touch

Components: Σπάνια oils and αλλά πράγματα αξίας at least 1,000 gold και τα λοιπά, δεντρολίβανο

Duration: Instantaneous

Εσύ touch a dead humanoid ή ενα piece of a dead humanoid. Εξαρτιόταν ότ�� the creature has been dead no longer than 10 days, the spell forms a new ηλικιωμένο body for it and then καλεί την soul to enter το body. If the target’s soul isn’t free or willing να το κάνει, the spell fails and

He closes the book.

“Nott,” he says, and the dread coiling around his heart is all too familiar to him, all too cold and heavy, “what is this?”

Nott grins. “It's a spell, Caleb! A spell that can change people! Isn't it wonderful?”

“Yes,” Caleb says, and pinches the bridge of his nose. His parents’ form flickers in front of him when he closes his eyes. After a second, Nott's joins them.

He hands her back the book and stands up. His foot has fallen asleep, and he tries to shake it awake again but it's too late, now his other foot is asleep too and he's numb all over, numb and cold and confused.

“Why did you show me this?” he asks.

Nott looks at him like it should be obvious. “For me,” she says simply. “I didn't think it was real at first. I don't know much about magic and spells and things, so I thought maybe it wasn't. But then I looked more carefully, searched a few bookstores, nicked a few tomes and-- here it is. The spell that can change me. Reincarnation!”

She does a giddy little jump. Caleb can only stare. He knows how Nott feels about herself. He knows her hopes and dreams, even if they'd never crossed her lips to him. He knows more than she thinks. He always does.

But in this moment, he feels like he doesn't even know who he's talking to.

“Nott,” he says. “This spell requires way too many things than we can afford.”

Her ears droop, but she's still smiling, undeterred. “Like what?”

“Oils. 1000 gold. More things I cannot read.”

Nott laughs, and it's all wrong, this whole conversation is wrong and Caleb wants to go back to reading his red book and acting like this never happened. “Oh, don't worry, I have quite a bit of coin saved on the side. Just a few more months and I'll probably have even more than that book asks for!”

“And the oils?”

“I'll nick them. I dunno. I'll find a way.” She grins. “Oils, Caleb, really, is that what you think is gonna throw me off after all this time?”

“No,” Caleb says, and he hears a faint ringing in his ears, “But I thought the fact that your corpse is required might.”

For the first time, Nott looks a little disturbed. Not a lot. It's barely noticeable, just a quick flit across her big yellow eyes, but it's enough to make Caleb feel better, if only for a moment.

Then the doubt is broken, Nott is clearing her throat, and the ringing in Caleb’s ears has returned.

“Well,” she says simply, “you thought wrong.”

And Caleb leaves the room.

***

“I'll do it without you if I have to.”

Caleb doesn't even turn his head. It's way past midnight where they're staying, and both of them should be sleeping-- but of course, neither of them are.

Neither of them have for what seems like months.

There's a moment before Nott speaks again, her raspy voice slicing through the silence like a knife. “I don't want to. But I will.”

“How will you do that,” Caleb says flatly.

A muffled huff from Nott informs him that his friend isn't sure either. “I don't know yet,” she finally admits. “But I'll find a way. I always do.”

“It's a powerful spell.”

“I have powerful friends.”

“It's difficult.”

“It's worth it for me.”

Caleb nearly pinches his nose on instinct, but stops just in time. He can't bear to close his eyes anymore. They've started playing tricks on him again. They'll show him Nott burned into the insides of his eyelids, Nott bleeding out on the ground and Nott with her little limbs all twisted up and Nott with fire consuming her from the inside out--

He realizes his mouth has gone dry. He swallows.

“You want to die,” he says. It's not a question.

He can almost hear Nott’s shrug, almost hear the flicker of doubt smothered under fierceness. “No. No, I don't want it. But I'm willing to.” A small laugh. “I've always been willing to. For Jester, and Beau, and Fjord, and you--” her voice catches a bit, but she plows on “--and Molly… why can't I do it for myself for once?”

Caleb doesn't answer her. He doesn't know what he'd say.

There's another beat of silence before Nott speaks again.

“I was so happy when I heard about it,” she confesses quietly. “I didn’t even know about the coming back as me part. I thought that when I died, I’d come back as someone brand new. And I was fine with that, I really was, but then I thought of you and I didn’t tell you about it and I dropped my research because I knew you'd get cross, and I knew you'd get sad, but then you said you'd do everything in your power for me, that one night we fought the gnolls together, don't you remember, and I started to look into it more actively, and I thought--” A sigh. “I don't know what I thought.”

She rolls over from where she's curled at the bottom of the bed like a cat, and even through the dark Caleb can feel her eyes, two golden pinpricks almost like lanterns trained on him.

“Please, Caleb,” she whispers. “I need this. I've always needed this.”

“But I need you,” he says. It’s such a selfish thing to say, such a selfish reason,

(but he’s always been a pretty selfish man, hasn’t he?)

“I’ll still be here,” she says. “You’d bring me back as me. It’d still be me.”

“My hands were built for destroying,” he says. The words burn as he speaks them but he knows they need to be said. “Not for creating. And any creation built from destruction is a creation I want no part in.”

His breath rattles in his chest as he says his next sentence, all in one go, not letting it burn anymore than it has to: “I can't do this for you, Nott. I'm sorry.”

Silence. It stretches on for so long that Caleb half thinks Nott's fallen asleep, and a part of him hopes she has, hopes so desperately that she'll let this conversation be nothing but a bad dream in the morning.

But hope's done nothing but fail him so far, and tonight does not intend to prove an exception.

“Well,” Nott says, and it's the emptiest Caleb's ever heard her, “Then I guess I’ll have to find someone that can.”

They don’t speak again.

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punishandenslavesuckers · 5 years

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Mollymauk Tealeaf wakes up in a grave by the road ten years after he died. Things have gone a bit wrong since then and he might be the only one who can set things right… since it’s the Mighty Nein themselves who’ve gone wrong. AU: Where Molly comes back to yell at his super-powered Level 20 friends. (AO3 - part1) (AO3 - part 2) (AO3 - part3) (AO3 - part4) (AO3 - part5) (AO3-part6) (AO3-part7) (AO3-part8) (AO3-part9)

The Blooming Grove is beautiful in the day light.

The sun slides beams of yellow through the gnarled canopy to the undergrowth, dappling dark grass and wildflowers in shifting stripes of sunshine and shadow. That’s what Molly spends the better part of ten minutes staring at when he wakes comfortably drowsy and a bit dehydrated from an all-night drug stupor. The morning is quiet, broken, only by distant murmuring and the muted twitter of birdsong. Mollymauk’s lying on his back still, though someone moved him a little into the space beneath a great oak tree, his head cushioned on a balled jacket.

For a warm sleepy while, Molly dozes a little somewhere between waking and unconsciousness, vaguely roused from his limbo by the impression of another person nearby. Yawning a little, Mollymauk sits up a bit, raking hair from his face.

Caduceus Clay is sitting nearby.

His back is partially to Molly, his face in profile serene as the morning around him.

He’s dressed in full armor, glittering chitinous green and grown with rosy lichen. Someone has taken the long section of his hair and pulled it back so the central part is woven elaborately, plaited and clipped so it stands up from his otherwise shaved skull. The rest of his hair is braided in a heavy rope that coils over his left shoulder. There are carved bone and amber charms threaded into the soft pink.

He looks war-ready to Molly with his fauxhawk and his armor.

He looks like he’s been waiting for Molly to wake up.

Molly can hear him murmur quietly and in the fifteen seconds that he gets to simply watch, Molly supposes that the cleric is praying. His low voice is like a long chord from a strange instrument, deep bass and vibrato. Eventually, he seems to register Mollymauk’s attention and looks over his shoulder, one long ear flipping upward like a deer detecting a noise. He smiles and the fondness is all the way up to his eyes in a way that makes Molly feel extremely safe even now, despite the facts of his fate. It’s impressive really. Molly thinks Clay could calm a storm with that look.

“Morning,” Molly says.

“Good morning,” says Caduceus.

Mollymauk folds his hands on his stomach.

“I have no hangover. Is that because you have the best drugs in the kingdom, or because you did some healing while I was sleeping?”

“Both.”

“Anyone ever tell you, you’re a gentleman and a scholar, Mr. Clay?”

“No. Because I’m neither of those things.” Caduceus turns a little at the waist and holds out an upturned hand to Molly. “This is yours, I think.”

In his palm something glitters, sunshine sparking molten before Molly gets a better look. There’s a thin chain pooled around a crystal heart amulet and when Molly recognizes it, there’s a moment of mild indifference (like when someone returns a knickknack) then a low creep of unnerve when he contextualizes how someone else came to possess it. The last resting place of this necklace, after wall, was around his own throat the day Lorenzo cut him down.

“Caleb gave it to me.” Caduceus tilts his head. “I think it’s fitting that it come back to you, Mollymauk.”

Molly arches a brow. “Caleb gave you a heart necklace?”

Caduceus gives him a look. “Caleb gave me the pariapt of wound closure on account of how often I was wounded in the course of regularly scheduled idiocy.” He shrugs a little. “But, yes, if you like.”

For a while, Molly says nothing. Then he says, “How does a firbolg cleric end up with the Mighty Nein?”

Silence for a moment while Caduceus thinks on this.

“They came to my graveyard – this one, in fact – on the sunset of your death. They asked me to come with them on a mission of vengeance and justice.” Caduceus looks out over the overgrown headstones, to the temple structure beyond and Molly thinks his expression gets a little wistful, an edge of… not regret but something. “I didn’t know anything about the world back then.” He turns back to Molly. “I know a lot more now.”

Molly stares at the periapt, then says, “No. It’s yours now. I don’t want it. Not if Caleb gave it to you.”

“It wasn’t a gift. It was a tactical—”

“Sure thing,” Molly says, grinning. Then, after Caduceus has reluctantly put the periapt back on, he asks, “You really think Caleb would risk ending the world?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Molly shakes his head. “I always knew he was deep in his head. I didn’t ever think he would… I thought he might fuck us, specifically, over. Or a lot of other people in general. I got that he was putting Nott and himself over everyone else. That made sense. That’s fine. But the whole bloody world?”

“You never knew him in context,” Caduceus says softly.

“Then put him in context.”

A hesitation then. Clay visibly wavers.

“You won’t spoil my good opinion of him, Mr. Clay. He killed me in cold blood for the sake of making a point I think.” Molly cracks a bitter grin. “I’d feel less sore about it, I think, if you gave me some framework for what makes a man do that to someone.”

Caduceus lowers his gaze a moment, then, quietly, he says:

“Caleb Widogast was insane once and finding sanity again required him to take hold of an impossible idea.” He raises his gaze then to Molly. “This idea was so fantastic it could hem in all the broken parts of him and hold his shape, make him a person again long enough to accomplish it. That impossible idea would have also, very possibly, done the world irreparable damage. So, you have this idea that Caleb ending the world is a new development and…” Caduceus shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but Caleb was always willing to end the world, Mollymauk. His restraint now is the new development.”

Quiet for a moment while Molly digests this.

“What do you mean he was ‘insane’? How and why?”

“I mean as a young man, a figure of authority convinced Caleb Widowgast to be a thing instead of a person. They hollowed him out the way authority can hollow a person and laid ideology inside him rather than morality. Then, on the say so of that ideology, he burned his family alive in his childhood home.” Cad is holding Molly’s gaze, unwavering, steady as a load-bearing beam. “The ideology wasn’t rooted deep enough to keep the horror out. He went insane. Then he stopped being insane and decided he might unravel time itself to undo what he’d done because the possibility of ‘fixing it’ was the only port in the storm.”

Molly stares.

“Gods fuck me, I knew something was wrong but… are you bloody serious?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ve talked him down from something like this before.”

Caduceus nods. “Yes.”

“How’d you stop him last time?”

“I didn’t. Nott took his hand and asked him not to do it.”

Molly is quiet a moment, then, “But that won’t work this time. This time, he’d kill Nott.”

Something reactive crosses Caduceus’ face. “No. Never. He’d risk killing her,” he corrects. “That’s something he’s not been willing to do in a long time. I’m not saying he doesn’t love others and love them—" bit of a sigh here— “very, very much. But he’ll never care for anyone like he cares for Nott. Nott is what’s holding back the end of the world. Not me or Yasha or you or anyone else.”

“The whole world on a goblin-girl,” Molly murmurs. “Something kinda great about that.”

“Yes. So much depends upon odd everyday things.” Caduceus tilts his head. “Maybe on a carnival performer.”

“Ugh.” Molly rolls his eyes. “Stop. My stomach is knotting up just thinking about it. Did everyone come up with a plan while I was sleeping?”

“Yes. Breaching Caleb’s keep would be impossible… save for the fact we have Jester with us again. The Traveler travels everywhere. It may be a difficult approach, but he won’t be able to stop us like most wizards of his ilk might be able. But he can make it a treacherous road to walk.” Caduceus gestures. “The plan is simple enough, we breach the keep. Jester, Yasha, Nott, and I will try to hold Caleb. You and Fjord will find Beauregard. Fjord will… do what’s necessary.”

Mollymauk leans back against the tree, his arms draped over his knees. “Kill her in her sleep, you mean.”

Caduceus doesn’t flinch.

“It’s been my task all along,” he says, “to one day be the person who ends Beau’s life. If the Beauregard I knew isn’t dead already, then it is an unnatural thread that binds her to the world. As a person whose walked between life and death over and over tied by powers beyond your hold, tell me there isn’t a time to let life let go.”

Molly’s jaw aches from clenching it. But eventually, he shakes his head just once.

“No, I’m not disagreeing there. But she’s my friend, you know?”

“And mine. And Fjord’s. It’ll be him that does it and I don’t envy him the task, but I wish I could relieve him of it.”

“He volunteer for that job?”

“Yes. But even if he hadn’t, you and he won’t survive a direct confrontation with Caleb Widogast if he knows we’re coming. You’ll be best to end the fight at the its source.”

Molly glances across the graveyard, to the faint sound of voices and movement. Where he can sense that the rest of the Mighty Nein are milling around on the opposite side of the shrine, gathering things and preparing. The thought sets his nerves on a preemptive razor’s edge, his heart acidic suddenly in the back of his throat and he finds himself breathing faster, his hands clenching tight and he hears it clear as a breath against the coil of his ear: Lorenzo saying, “Respect.” Caleb saying, “Die.” Fjord saying, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Caduceus lays a hand on his shoulder and Molly twitches reactive under his palm. He waits for Molly to settle, but kneels there facing him now, pale eyes intent on Molly’s face the way one can be intent on a book they are reading. He squeezes Molly’s shoulder and it’s strange how heavy his hand lies on him, how much density that suggests in the cleric’s bones and build.

“Breathe,” he rumbles.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Molly says.

“None of us know that,” says Caduceus, “but we’re going to try. If you really think you can’t do it, you don’t have to –”

“Fuck you, Caduceus. You brought me back from the grave. If I go back to it, I’ll be on my bloody feet. Understand? I’m just saying, I’m a bit nervous.”

“I understand.” There’s a pause. “Mollymauk, I know I’ve said this before but…”

“Stop.” Molly waves a hand. “I’m sick of people being sorry for me.”

“No, I was going to say you’ve shown unusual bravery in the face of terrible things. Also, I am not really sorry. I would do it again.”

“Weirdly, that makes me feel better, thank you, Caduceus.”

This earns him a head tilt. “If you’re angry with me… with everything that’s happened, you have every right.”

“Trust me,” Molly huffs, “I don’t need your permission to be angry. I’m livid. I’m furious my friends are trying to end the world because one is an emotionally traumatized bookworm.” He sighs and rubs his forehead. “I’m furious they didn’t take care of one another and you had to dig me out of a grave to sort it out for some reason. I’m out of my fuckin’ mind that somehow the gods are hanging this nonsense on me. I’m so mad I want to bite something.”

Caduceus nods. “I understand.”

Up close, the very fine gray down that colors Caduceus’ face and throat seems to shimmer a little and there are shards of gray in the pink ring of each iris. Caduceus Clay is a pastel riot of contradicting pieces and he smells like fresh-cut grass and whatever moss is growing in the chinks of his armor. Molly doesn’t realize he’s doing it until he’s reached up and taken hold of the long, pink braid hung over his shoulder pauldron. Clay doesn’t stop him, just peering curiously.

There’s a heavy iron clasp at the end of the braid, hard in Molly’s palm.

“Why did you stay?”

Caduceus flicks a long ear. “What?”

“With Caleb.” Molly grips the clasp a little, just to feel the metal dig in. He doesn’t look at the other man. “You were one of the last people standing with Caleb. Even after everyone else had gone other directions. Nott stuck it out, I get that. But why did you?”

“Because,” Caduceus says, “there was a time previously that I was capable of holding Caleb back as well. Second only to Nott of course.”

“Wait. What does that…?”

“Hey, Deuce? Molly? You two awake and sober or does Jester need to come over here?”

Fjord’s come around the side of the temple.

He’s standing among a collection of broken gravestones, his arms crossed, wearing that strange set of black leather armor he wore earlier. The only difference now is it looks as though Jester’s painted the symbol of her god across his shoulder guard. In the full light of day, Molly can see that he wasn’t delusional: Fjord looks almost exactly the same as he did ten years ago. Time hasn’t touched him. He’s been held in a capsule. The age is (instead) in his eyes, in the way he looks at them though Molly couldn’t identify what heaviness it is exactly that ten years has put there.

“We’re okay here,” Caduceus says. He leans his weight on his staff and stands up, offering Molly a hand up. “Just discussing the plan.”

Caduceus murmurs something and Molly feels the Death Ward charm again take hold of his soul, anchoring him to the world. The cleric lets go of his hand then.

“If you die,” Caduceus says, “and there is no one there to call you back from death, that’s it. Jester’s asked her god about the rules around you dying. You can be called back as many times as there is someone to call you, but if you die and no one calls…”

“I’m dead,” Molly says. “And Fjord is no cleric.”

“I’ll look out for you,” Fjord says, a little defensive, “but if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. Point of fact, I think I’ll move faster without you –”

“He’s lying,” Caduceus says easily. “He’s just worried, particularly since he’s operating without his patron now.”

Fjord tosses his hands up. “Thank you, Caduceus, for your rousing pre-battle pep talks. Appreciated as always.” Then when his giant teammate just kind of gives him a benign but entirely shit-eating kind of smile, Fjord shoulders past him muttering, “Fuckin’ years later, still weird as hell…”

“I heard that.”

“Yeah, I know, Deuce. It’s what you’re there for.”

He glares over his shoulder, still standing close enough that he kind of has to tilt his head back to do it. Caduceus kind of smiles in return. There’s a beat in that exchange, a crisscross where something in the cleric’s expression gets a little sad despite the unabashed fondness there and something in Fjord’s glare loses the edge. Caduceus is the one to break the wordless quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

“I’m glad you’re with us again, Fjord.”

“I… yeah.” A pause. “Look, Caduceus, about what I said last night…”

Caduceus waves a hand.

“No. Man.” Fjord gets indignant. “It’s not okay. Just… you know…” He sighs. “Thank you. Nott told me a little bit about it, but she shouldn’t have had to tell me anything. I should have known you were doing everything you could. I was just… taking it out on you because I was frustrated and… and fucked up, honestly. It’s not excuse, but it’s what I was doing.”

“I know. I’m not upset.”

“You should be. I was over the line.”

Caduceus doesn’t say anything, just shrugs and glances away which doesn’t work especially well when one is taller than everyone else around them.

“You should have never been trapped as long as you were,” Caduceus says eventually. He meets Fjord’s eyes and Molly can see now what he was masking – a plain and painful guilt. “I was afraid to leave Caleb. I’m sorry.”

Fjord steps forward and grabs the cleric’s sleeve at the elbow, pulling him face to face.

“You listen. What happened to me was my fault and no one else’s. I did what I did. I signed on full well knowing what my patron was and what it wanted. I swallowed the fuckin’ sea and I took the blade when it was given to me.” Fjord hisses through his teeth now. “Dammit, Caduceus, why didn’t you get away from him like the rest of us? You didn’t have to stay.”

“We don’t do that.” Caduceus is perfectly calm, certain as sunrise. “We don’t leave each other.”

“Bullshit, Cad. We all left you.”

“You didn’t leave me. You were taken. There’s a diff—” And here he falters. He glances at Molly. Because in that instant Molly realizes (a slow unraveling dawning) that Caleb was quoting Caduceus on that beach— “there’s a difference,” he finishes. “Maybe not everyone was taken like you were taken, but you can be taken by grief, by despair, or madness, or circumstance. You were all taken by something.” Caduceus trails off. “I’m not angry.”

“You should be.”

“I’m not.”

“Gods, I don’t get you,” Fjord groans, pressing fingers into his temple. “It’s been how long now and I’m never gonna fuckin’ get you, Cad. You’re just so fuckin’ – oof!”

Fjord’s complaint is smothered rather effectively by Caduceus casually reaching out and yanking his shorter teammate into a hug. It’s an expert hug. Both inevitable and affectionate in equal unstoppable parts. Fjord, nevertheless, gives a cursory struggle before surrendering to Clay’s (apparently) unescapable embrace, the tension sliding out of his shoulders in increments. Molly is pretty sure he can see a glow in Clay’s fingers, light sinking into Fjord’s armor before disappearing entirely.

“Did you just hug a Death Ward onto me?” Fjord demands, muffled.

“Yes.” Clay squeezes him just once more for good measure, then lets him go. “Can you go get Nott for me? She has something for Molly, I think.”

“She can’t keep giving me her stuff!” Molly protests.

Fjord looks at Molly. “She can and she will.” He holds up his arm and there’s a pair of strange gold-hammered bracers strapped to his forearms. “I don’t know where she stole these, but apparently you can grab a spell with them and throw it back.”

“I love that girl,” says Molly. Then, after a moment, he jerks his chin to Caduceus. “I’m glad you found him after I died, by the way.” He waves a hand up and down generally encompassing Caduceus Clay as a whole. “You know, good color scheme.”

Caduceus stifles a chuckle. Fjord gets a lopsided grin and pats Molly on the shoulder as he turns to go. But he pauses. There’s just the one look – brief and curious as he looks a Molly, a question in his stare… so Molly slaps Fjord on the cheek in a way that clearly confuses him.

“Oi, none of that. Head in the game.” He winks. “We’ll sort it out later.”

Fjord hesitates. “Alright. I’ll hold you to it.”

Molly smiles until Fjord’s walking away.

“You’re lying,” Caduceus observes blandly. He’s leaning against his staff, head tilted. “You don’t think we’re going to survive.”

“No, I don’t think I am.”

There’s a quick silence. Then, “Mollymauk, I don’t think–”

But before he can start in on some platitudes about how everything is going to be okay or something, Caduceus makes this aborted choking sound and doubles over. His eyes go wide, his head jerking back, ears coming up like a startled animal. Like he’s hearing or seeing something Molly can’t. Then, with no warning beyond that, Caduceus’ eyes kind of roll back in his skull and he staggers sideways against the oak tree and drops his shoulder against it.

Molly, who watched all this with a confused horror, rushes forward.

“Hey, Caduceus?” He touches his shoulder like you reach for a high shelf. “You okay?”

“Head rush,” the firbolg mumbles, digging around in his robes for something. “Just… have to walk it off.”

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t know. I think something just… I don’t know.” Caduceus seems distressed and a little dazed honestly, so Molly catches his elbow and pulls the gangly cleric upright, letting him lean his weight against his shoulder from his seven feet of height. He’s a little quiet until they’ve walked a little toward the south side of the graveyard, away from the temple and the others. “Apologies. I might have over worked myself. I’ve been getting the team ready for the fight this morning and yesterday was… taxing.”

“Well you did kill a dragon with a tree.”

“It wasn’t really a dragon. It was a warlock.” Caduceus rubs his temple gingerly as if nursing a migraine. “If it had been a real dragon, I doubt we would have prevailed. True ancient sea dragons? They’re leviathans without mercy or the depravity of their land-bound cousins. It would not have played with us. Her cruelty made her stupid and we killed her for it.”

Surprise jolts through Molly then, his head coming up a little to glance Caduceus. Oddly, his calling someone stupid even in death seems off-color for the gentle giant-kin and Molly frowns a little.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I don’t know. I feel strange.”

“Well, shake it off. We have another round of bad business to deal with. Gotta take care of the Mighty Nein, right?” Molly kind of nudges the bigger man when he doesn’t get an immediate answer. “Right? That’s our job in this group.”

Caduceus gives him a strange look, somewhere between sad and regretful. “Yes, I guess so.”

Molly maneuvers around a low headstone, Caduceus’ hand still resting against his shoulder. “Caduceus, you didn’t seem like you had a head rush. You seemed like you saw something and it scared you. Don’t spare my bloody feelings if Malora’s sending you visions or something, you can tell me.” Molly hesitates then adds, “If the endgame in this story is me going back to the grave, you know I… it’s okay.”

“Mollymauk—”

“It’s okay.” Molly laughs, though it comes mirthless in his mouth. “It’s fine if I don’t survive this. Not many people get three lives, much less the number I’ve been afforded. It’s alright, Mr. Clay. I don’t expect to–”

“Hey!”

Molly stops and looks over his shoulder. Nott is rocketing across the graveyard, full-speed, a darting blur of gnomish speed accelerated by some kind of magic that makes her a yelling blur. Her cloak flaps furiously behind.

“Hey! What are you doing!?”

Caduceus turns.

“You’re outside the boundary! Caduceus!?! CAD, WHAT ARE YOU—!?”

Caduceus interrupts her by suddenly raising a hand and saying a word. He thrusts his hand backward. He’s holding what looks like a large diamond between his thumb and forefinger and as he speaks, magic rushes through it like light through a prism throwing a sheet of rainbow like an aurora against the wall, painted against the air like it’s solid. Then the light shudders, the diamond splits, and simultaneously the air collapse inward and becomes a humming door composed of light.

“MOLLY, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

Molly’s heart stops.

Caduceus grabs him around the waist, hooking one long arm full around his narrow midriff and with a terrible almost beast-like strength the previously gentle firbolg yanks Molly’s slim tiefling weight up into his arms and steps back. Time seems to slow then, like it always does in a moment of horror as the quantum pull of the teleportation spell begins to close around Molly and pull him apart down to the atomic structures of himself. Nott is almost on them, having crossed the yard with expeditious speed.

Molly is inside the tunnel of light, pulled back through the threshold into the howling inter-dimension while Nott is lunging from the foyer of reality. She’s framed in a dark, living green, a window of the Blooming Grove at her back as she dives for Molly, her hand extended as if a gnome-girl jumping in mid-air will stop the pull of a high-level vortex through time and space… and Molly nevertheless believes it. He drives his boot back against Caduceus’ thigh and lunges off him like wall, his middle still collared but like a thrashing animal in a snare he gets just loose enough and shoves one arm forward and –

Reality snaps in that way Molly’s become so familiar with.

Molly hits the ground at speed. His head cracks hard against the rock, a sick jag of pain spiking his brain and for a red moment the world goes dark and muddled in his skull. Dizzy, the world rotates on a nauseous axis, wobbling like a bowl dropped on a table until it rattles to a stop and he’s laying face down on the ground. The stone is cold against his cheek and palms, the warmth bleeding from his body into the ground.

He blinks slowly, vision focusing…

He’s staring at his own fist against the ground In it: the broken gold chain of Clay’s periapt. Like he tore it from the firbolg’s neck in his panic. Confused, Molly lets it slide from his fingers and rolls onto his side.

Caduceus himself lays some five feet away. He’s sprawled, unmoving. His staff lays on the floor near his head. The amethyst at the head is pulsing slowly, like a heartbeat, revealing the dim fifteen by fifteen foot cavern they’re trapped inside, like a bubble inside solid rock. There’s no other light source, entrance, or seam in the walls of their cell and for a terrible moment, Molly feels the weight of the earth, the walls like a sarcophagus around them and panic begins to bleed in him.

Molly gets to his feet.

“Clay?”

No response.

“Fuck. Caduceus?”

Clay stirs then, groaning as he tries to push himself into a sitting position, head hanging low.

“What… what hap—?” He kind of jerks and doubles over retching. He shudders, then looks up, looks around at the dark cell around them. “Oh no. No…”

“Hey. Clay?” Molly remains at a distance. Molly has both rapiers in hand. “You alright, friend? What’ve you done? It’s okay if you’re okay now. You okay?”

He looks at Molly, looks at his weaponry in hand, the look on his face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mollymauk.” He touches his neck and it takes Molly a moment to realize he’s touching the hollow where the periapt once laid. “I’m so…” His expression kind of buckles in grief, a bright pain welling in his pale eyes. “I didn’t think he’d do that.”

“Caduceus,” Molly murmurs, moving slowly to kneel next to him. “What happened?”

“I think he turned the… the chain on my periapt into an enslavement ring.” And, having said the words out loud in all their horror, a low, animal growl rises out of Caduceus’ chest and the fingers at this throat dig into the collar of his shirt just above his armor. “He must have done it… a while ago.” The growl is horrible in the firbolg’s throat, this eldritch-fey noise of rage and sorrow. His words stutter and sob. “I didn’t… I didn’t think he’d…”

Molly sheathes one rapier and loops an arm around Caduceus’ shoulders. “Shh, hey. Stop. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“The others are still out there. He only got the two of us.” Molly squeezes Caduceus’ shoulders meaningfully. “And he didn’t tell you to hurt anyone. All you did was pull us into some stupid pocket dimension or something. He doesn’t mean to kill us, I guess. It’s okay. He just sidelined us.”

“He’s split the party. They need us. We can’t fight him staggered–”

“They’ll be okay. They’ve got gods and assassins on their side.”

“How long have I worn this?” Caduceus seems to be in shock.

“Hey, stop. Hey. This isn’t a subtle spell. If you’d been under its control before, you’d know.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Caduceus covers his eyes with one hand. “I know this is the first time he’s used it, but how long has he been comfortable letting me wear this?”

“Since you switched sides,” says a voice suddenly.

Molly’s on his feet instantly. He’s only aware that he cut himself because his rapier burns now in his fist, swarmed in radiant fire. Blood soaks his shirt collar, his neck bleeding gently. Standing in the room, sudden as a blink, is Caleb Widogast. He glances at Molly’s sword, then meets his gaze. There’s something wrong with his eyes – the halogen blue color has ignited and shifts in his skull like blue flame burns behind the iris. The air around him breathes distorted by heatless mirage, power sweltering off his skin so strongly, it makes Molly’s nose sting.

“Don’t do that.” Caleb’s eyes hold Molly’s. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me, you killed me,” Molly says, this even as dividing by two and just as factual. “What did you do to Clay?”

“Exactly what he said.” He looks at Caduceus then and shrugs. “It was when you asked me if I’d changed my mind about Beauregard. That’s when I changed the chain on your periapt. That night.”

That seems to do Clay some harm because his fingers dig deeper into the hallow at his throat and his eyes clench shut. So Molly steps between Caleb and the other man, his single drawn rapier throwing white in eerie ripples across the walls. Caleb’s eyes slide across the blade, then back to Molly.

“You’re stronger,” he says, “than when you died.”

“Any chance I can convince you to just back off?” Molly says.

“No.”

“Why? You win. We’re stuck in your stupid pocket bubble whatever. Gloating about it is fucking rude.”

“I’m not gloating. I’m sorry, but I need you to–”

“Fuck you and your sorry,” Molly says merrily. He circles a little to Caleb’s right and the wizard tracks him with his eyes, his fingers burning with some held sorcery that Molly talks over. “Rude to kill someone, you know. Rude to enslave someone with a cheap piece of jewelry too.”

“I’m not here to fight,” Caleb says. “Neither of you will win here. This room is made to hold my enemies. So…” He holds out an empty hand. “Molly, come with me. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, sincere as his mask of sociopathy will allow, “but I will hurt Caduceus if you don’t cooperate.” He waits for Molly to react, but only for a second before getting impatient. “Did you hear me? I will hurt him. Put the weapon away. I’m beyond you, Mollymauk. Just do as I say.”

“Suck. My. Purple. Dick,” Molly enunciates.

Caleb gives him a bewildered look.

“Go fuck yourself, Mr. Widogast.”

“I forgot how annoying you –”

“Eat me. Also, you’re terrible.”

Caleb’s eyes roll a little, a low fury coming into his gaze so Molly pivots quickly.

“If you’re such a goddamn monster now, why the hell didn’t you use that enslavement bullshit on the beach?” Molly blows air through his lips, makes a face. “Caduceus sure pissed you off then. If you’re so dedicated to this asshole shtick you should have sold it a little better, honestly. I don’t think—”

“I wasn’t wearing it on the beach.” Caduceus says this quietly, cutting Molly off. Caduceus doesn’t move from where he’s kneeling, one hand still pressed to his throat. “I was… I meant to give it you, Molly, on the day I raised you. I wasn’t wearing it.” He looks up at Caleb then. “That’s the only reason you didn’t use it to stop me earlier, isn’t it? Nothing else.”

“I told you,” Caleb murmurs. “You’re expendable to me.”

“Dramatic,” Molly snaps. “And bullshit.”

“You’ve been dead for ten years,” Caleb says sharply. “You don’t know anything. Now, put that sword down or I’ll make you.”

“I’m not wearing your stupid collar, Caleb. You want me down? Put me down.”

Caleb’s eyes flare then and he hits Molly with a spell.

Molly feels the enchantment clutch his limbs like a seizure; his hands immediately open and drop his rapier. He barely has time to panic about that, because in the time it takes them to hit the ground, Molly’s sprinted fifteen feet across the small room and slammed palms first, then sternum into the wall, pressing there like he can shove himself through the damn stone, his whole body possessed by the compulsion to just get away, far away, as fast as possible. But fast as it drives him to his knees, the compulsion is gone and he’s breathing again, gasping.

He hears voices behind him.

Clay saying, “Enchant him again and I will make you regret it, Caleb.”

“You can’t beat me here.” Caleb’s voice has nothing in it, but the syllables. Molly looks over his shoulder. Caleb holds one hand toward Caduceus, the other up behind him, a shivering static screaming around one extended index finger. “And I won’t fall for the same trick twice. Anti-magic won’t work here, Clay.”

Caduceus is breathing hard, light fading from his staff, kneeling on the floor still but in a defensive stance now, his holy symbol raised in front of him. Molly can smell the ozone and sugar stink of dispelled magic in an enclosed space. Caleb’s stopped him from doing something clearly because Caduceus is shaking from some exertion, pink light fading off his body like steam from a hot stone.

“Tell Molly to do what I say,” Caleb whispers. “I will bury you here just to make a point.”

“Liar.” There is fey fire in Caduceus stare now, lit rose-pink in his irises, bright as the blue behind Caleb’s arcane stare. “You just attack the things you love because you think you don’t deserve them.” There’s power gathering in him, suffusing his frame and crackling across fur and fabric. “But you’re not Trent’s toy soldier anymore. So stop trying to be the monster again because it’s easier than facing up to –”

Caleb shouts something and throws a hand forward, but Clay’s staff flares and the magic dispels across his shoulders like a snowball breaking against a window. Caduceus’ eyes narrow, but there’s light shimmering on the edges of him now, moss blooming suddenly up in the cracks in the cobblestones and the air smells like soil and crushed grass and fresh sap running from spring-green wood.

“Stop talking, Caduceus.” Caleb’s stare burns chemical blue. “I’m warning you.”

“You can’t put me in a box. You won’t protect me by putting me aside.

“I’m not protecting you,” Caleb hisses, but there’s something in his words now – not anger but fear. “Don’t.”

“You can’t turn back time,” Caduceus says and with each word, the light in his eyes intensifies. His war braid starts to unravel, the light pulsing like a heartbeat in the crystal focus, in the color of his hair, and in the lichen on his armor. Light breathing through the him as radiance through a moral veil. “Live with your goddamn consequences, Caleb.”

Caleb’s eyes go wide and, “Caduce—!”

The cleric slams his staff to the ground.

A terrible scream roars up through the wood, vibrating up the shaft like a tuning fork stuck to the howl of cicadas. It’s so loud, Molly has to clap his hands over his ears and watch, horrified, as the wood in Clay’s hand erupts impossibly into a black, writhing cloud of locusts, so thick they block out all but the smallest shreds of the light in the room. Molly scrambles away, back hitting the wall as Caduceus Clay’s plague of insects consumes Caleb Widogast.

He disappears into a sea of chitinous bodies, breaking like a wave over him. Through the clicking roar of beetles and wings, Molly can hear the wizard screaming. Molly smells blood and somewhere in that swarm, he can just make out the heaving thrash that must be Caleb writhing and thrashing as Caduceus’ spell bears down, merciless as the fucking tide under the moon. He’s not stopping. Caduceus stands in the center of the room, his staff blinding in his hands, a surging mass of insects breaking against the wall in front of him.

There’s blood glistening now on the bodies of the bugs, slick and iron and Molly can still hear Caleb. He’s still screaming. This insane animal sound of agony.

There’s a flare of fire from the mass, a mound of beetle igniting suddenly and a fireball the size of an umbrella erupts through the swarm and rockets directly at Caduceus. But fast as the spell is released, the bugs swarm again, and the wizard’s spell swerves. It rips a flaming path across Clay’s shoulder instead of his core, staggering, his arm suddenly a burnt and bleeding roadmap of fused fur and flesh.

Caduceus stumbles and for a moment the light in his staff flickers and the swarm slows… before he draws a long breath, steadies and with a bullish exhalation he focuses through the pain. The swarm surges again, renewed and Caleb is again, gone beneath the ravenous mass.

“Caduceus!”

Molly lunges off the wall and races to grab his arm. He doesn’t notice. So fixed on his task, he can’t hear.

“Stop! Stop it that’s enough—!” He wrenches Cad’s arm down, grabs his collar. “You’re killing him!” The swarm continues to burrow and spiral, crushing its target against the wall in a screaming wave and Molly can see Caduceus’ face – frozen in horror, his pale, glowing eyes running over liquid light and Molly grabs his jaw and pulls his head down to look at him. “CADUCEUS! Please –!”

And that’s when Caleb, still choking, being torn by insects, manages to say a Word.

Like he didn’t know the one that killed, Molly does not know this one. He, nevertheless, knows that the Word is ‘agony’.

It hits Caduceus like one of Nott’s bullets. It slams home in his ribcage, penetrating his armor like cotton and hurls the cleric down, dropping his body to the floor where the Word takes root like a weed in fast forward. The spell erupts through Caduceus in red veins of light. The veins lash themselves around his wrists, his throat, his skull, and like hideous assassin’s wire, they garrote him to the ground. Then they start to pulse. Fast. Then faster and faster. Until it’s a constant, whirring hum inside Caduceus.

And that’s when the cleric starts screaming.

The Word lights his body up, igniting the root-system of his nervous system until he’s a writhing skeleton caged by cherry-red wiring. A nebula of burning copper with a single racing coal nested in the ribcage. He’s rigid like he’s stroking out, his eyes turning back in his skull as his spine curls up from the floor, his shoulders pinned back by paralysis.

The insect swarm dispels instantly – whatever arcane focus needed to hold it instantly shredded as their spellcaster loses his concentration over to agony. Clay is howling, this horrible split-sound between a beast bellowing and a man screaming. He thrashes wildly, ridden from the inside by the pain, possessed by it until he’s incapable of screaming and he’s just shaking and choking at Molly’s feet.

“I told you,” Caleb gasps. He staggers forward, covered in blood, his entire body a red slick of uncountable insect bites. His robes are soaked and shredded. His blue eyes are still burning, fixed on his fallen teammate’s shaking form. “I told you, Cad. I told you –”

Molly’s across the room instantly. He slams into Caleb, shoving him back against the wall and one hand around the wizard’s throat and his second rapier against Caleb’s windpipe and blade edge digging into cartilage.

“Stop hurting him,” Molly rasps.

Caduceus is sobbing and retching now. Sick with the pain and clawing at the ground.

“Caleb! For fuck’s sake!”

Caleb just looks at him, calm as a summer day, eyes pale as clear skies through the blood that soaks his face.

“You’ve been with them three days and you care so much about even him…”

“You fucking idiot! You’re such a fucking idiot! How can you be so smart and be so bloody stupid!?”

“Come with me, Molly, willingly and I’ll stop.”

Molly throws the sword down and grabs Caleb’s shirt in a two-fisted twist. “STOP HURTING HIM OR I’M GONNA BITE YOUR BLOODY EYES OUT!”

Caleb waves a hand.

The Word douses like a coal dropped in water and the enchantment dies. Caduceus stops screaming instantly. Like someone knocked the air out of him and he lies there dark and numb and gasping. The light in the staff is just barely glowing, soft and thready near Clay’s head where it fell. He’s shivering, half-conscious, hair a pink muddle beneath his skull, curled in on himself like a stabbed creature. His shaking hand closed and pressed against his chest. He looks like he’s fucking dying.

Molly has his fists around Caleb’s throat. “What the fuck is wrong with you? What happened to you? He loves you, you stupid son of a bitch. They all do. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Saving Beauregard,” he says.

He offers Molly an open hand.

“Come with me.”

Molly hisses. Full on, Infernal snarling in his face.

Caleb just grimaces a little.

“Okay. The others are coming. Are you –?”

“I hope Jester punches your teeth in,” Molly snaps.

And he takes Caleb by hand and they vanish.

#critical role #critrole #the mighty nein #mollymauk tealeaf #caduceus clay #long post #in which the clay and molly complications and parallels come to a head

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frozen-odin · 5 years

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If He Reigned Longer...

Hello everyone.

Today is the one year anniversary of our favorite literal and figurative Peacock’s tragic return to the earth. So in honor of this, I thought I’d take a short look at how the last year of play may or may not have been different. I’m not claiming this is definitely what would’ve happened but these are some likely scenarios I’ve thought of. If anyone wants add more ideas in a repost or to use this for fic inspiration, be my guest.

One last Side note: I love both Mollymauk and Caduceus very much, with a slight preference towards Caduceus. That said I love the fact that Tal and Matt decided to have Molly’s death have lasting consequences as it is realistic and also gives the story stakes. On that note I also think that one healer for a team of 7 characters was dangerous from the beginning, and rushing into battle without even that is what led to Molly’s death to begin with. So in general the stakes would behigher in each combat even with the boost in DPS, but I’ll only mention it if it would’ve made a significant difference.

Without Further to do, lets begin:

Iron Shepherds

Let’s skip over how he Molly lives. Perhaps the blood malediction paid off, perhaps they were able to retreat. But I think Matt had something up his sleeve to make sure they didn’t save their friends immediately, otherwise Laura and Travis wouldn’t have a maternity leave. So for all intents and purposes the Nein still lost but at a much lower cost.

Without Molly’s death, Beau probably wouldn’t have taken his “Leave things better than you find them” mentality to heart, lengthening her arc of learning to be a good person.

Nila would have to start healing in the episodes she was in. Molly may have encouraged her to also ‘smell’ whatever drugs he had left.

Shadycreek Run was mentioned by Cree as the headquarter’s of Lucian’s/Nonagon’s Tomb Takers, a splinter group from a larger faction. She also mentioned a headquarter’s they were using there and a member named Otis Brunkel who is still alive. It’s likely this Otis would’ve recognized Lucian’s body like Cree did and give us a bit more information about the remnants of the Tomb Takers and how Molly was born.

Knowing Matt, the headquarters Cree mentioned was probably converted into the Iron Shepherd's base, meaning Otis would’ve been instrumental for infiltration as well.

I’m really disappointed to realize Molly died RIGHT BEFORE they were gonna give a bunch of new info on his back story. Meeting Caduceus in the graveyard was a nice consolation prize though.

Followers of the False Serpent

No deaths while they were captured means that Jester wouldn’t blame herself for that, though she might still feel useless for getting captured.

Yasha would leave on a much happier note, perhaps feeling like she could get close to people again.

While it’s possible Shadycreek Run was just the start of Nonagon’s past, Molly wasn’t that interested in it and it’s unlikely they would’ve tracked down the mage from Rexxentrumm who gave Nonagon the faulty tome to begin with as Matt said that place was meant for late game.

Fjord being captured and still having the eyeball as a relatively new thing, means the Pirate arc would’ve followed suit

It’s unknown if Fjord would’ve adopted his teleport around the battlefield strategy without first testing it out with the Summer Dance Falchion

Molly would’ve had a touching reunion with Gustav, and the paying his fine probably would’ve still happened though with a different in character motivation. The guards may have also been more hostile to another circus member.

Molly would’ve bought some kind of pet.

Molly at the beach episode, I will leave you with that.

He also would’ve probably gotten along well with Marian Lavorre and taken great pleasure in embarrassing her stalker.

If The Nein left Molly behind, he would’ve given them hell for it.

Pirate Molly

Molly would definitely get a Tattoo from Orly first chance he got and find some part of his body for Jester to practice on. Cue Laura and Taliesen telling tramp stamp jokes.

The crew would’ve had much less and much worse food.

While Cad used his gravesight often, Molly had it as a passive ability meaning the Nein would’ve known about Jamedi Cosko much earlier and would’ve confronted him about it. Molly would’ve also been more direct about Jamedi not pulling his weight, especially since they’d have to survive the hydra without bane.

Molly’s eye tattoos cause people to speculate that he is connected to Uka’toa or of the bird depicted next to it in the Temple of The False Serpent. This makes sense considering The Tomb Taker’s are stated to be a branch of of a larger cult like Avantika’s crew. Though we can’t know for sure.

I wonder what Molly’s theme song moment would be. Maybe Juggling swords at the Circus or coming out of the ground?

Fjord is still the one with the most seas experience and likely would’ve still ended up as captain, but Molly has the biggest claim as group leader despite what Nott may think (see the interaction with the Bandits)

Molly in Darktow

The travel would go slower with only Jester being able to speedboat

Molly would be in his element in the Diver’s grave as much as Fjord

I really want to see Twiggy ask Molly on how to get such colorful clothes now.

Jester needing to use ice magic to escape means that the Dragon fight would’ve been even closer with far less healing.

The pirate battle that Matt always wanted, now has nothing stopping it.

Without Caduceus’s divination we may not have gotten the resolution on Vandren’s whereabouts current activities.

Friends of the Dynasty

While less calming, Molly would support Nott, not mentioning her past. However it would take longer for the group to discover where Yeza was being taken.

Molly would not have particularly needed a disguise in Asarius but his ornamentation may have made him a target.

Beau would’ve still wound up with his dick since it’s the only Tiefling Dick that Caleb’s ever seen.

I’m not convinced Molly would be as interested in the Moorbounders, possibly giving Beau the one that would become Clarabelle. though he would be tied for second highest wisdom along with Caleb and Beau.

A short list of alternate names for Clarabelle: Yami (Molly), Yoshi (Fjord), Vanessa (Beau)

Molly resisting the fireball with Hellish Resistance to then run at a possessed Caleb would set 1,000 Widowmauk shippers wild.

Hopefully Jester could Revivify him in time, though it’s unlikely Molly would’ve fallen in the same place as Caduceus, so Nott’s bolt may not have been as bad.

Molly would probably adapt well to switching over to the Dynasty’s side.

Commence the three way love triangle between Molly, Caleb, and Essik.

Though frankly I feel that Molly would push Caleb to get with Essik but shippers can fill in what they want here.

Noway around it this time guys, all fight are harder but Matt Explicitly said that Fjord would be dead if Caduceus hadn’t canceled that crit in the Giant’s cave.

Though technically they were only there since Caduceus talked to the giants, and Molly doesn’t speak giant, nor would he be particularly interested in talking to them.

This causes a ripple affect where they don’t find out about the additional demon portal or scry on ‘Greg’ and learn everything they did, for the multiple scrying sessions. Which means the plot is completely divergent by this point on.

Molly would go full out embarrassing the foreman though. Full orgy.

No Caduceus means Fjord would be completely lost after Uka’toa threatened to cut him off. The scene under the Wild Mother’s tree probably would’ve still happened but Fjord would have no one to ask about it.

Maybe he’d ask Jester about the Traveler. I doubt he’d be willing to trust that guy though.

No tree on top of Xhorhouse :(

I really am curious what they’d do for Molly’s room though. Maybe he’d switch with Yasha and she’d be under the stars while his room is painted to all hell.

I doubt they’d find Mauro’s shop and it’s dark dealings without Greg but if they did, there would be no good cop routine. Molly would do everything in his power to help Jester convince her they could kill her with a thought.

Speaking of Yasha, whether or not they find out about the attack without Greg, it’s still likely that Matt would’ve pushed for some Yasha Backstory before she leaves. At which point Molly and Yasha would be even closer as they bound over not knowing much about their past.

“Yasha, it doesn’t matter what you did. Because that person isn’t you anymore. All you have is the person before me right here, right now. And no one gets to decide who that person is but you.”

He’d have no idea how prophetic those words were until after the fact.

Molly would die rather than leave Yasha in that dungeon.

He very well might’ve.

Moving Forward

They are now travelling to the Kiln, completely on blind faith. Two things that would never happen if not for Caduceus.

No Kiln means Jester probably wouldn't convince her crazy ass god to host his party inside an active volcano. She didn’t mean to, that half-hearted nat 20 could’ve been used on anything but Cad wants to go to a volcano she wanted something close so there you go.

And there you go. do you agree or disagree with any of the statements here? Anything you think I missed, I’d love to know! Sorry for any spelling mistakes,

#critical role #mollymauk #mollymauk tealeaf #caduceus clay #By the time I wrote all this down midnight passed so it's no longer the anniversary #But it is in LA so it counts i guess #Honestly it's probably closer since molly's death was approaching the 4 hour mark #taleisin jaffe #How many characters that we've bet you think secretly know Molly and it just never came up #I doubt Matt would throw away the characters #he might reuse some for the Kiln but i think most are still just going about they're daily lives trying to make sense of what to do now #Guess they're a lot like us then #I still love Cad more #I Molly didn't die someone else would've #shine bright circus man #long may you reign

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