#ashton anchors

[larthrum]

dragon cuddles

#ashton anchors #star ocean #so2r #fanart #star ocean 2 #so2

[tatibana-tsuki]

2024描き初め　今年もよろしくお願いします

#illustration #star ocean #so2r #ashton anchors

[dusk-bun]

Cuddle

I saw some very cute artworks of Ashton braiding Dias hair and wanted to join in with a colored sketch at least ;; 💕

#スターオーシャン #star ocean 2 #star ocean second story #star ocean second evolution #dias flac #ashton anchors #my art #digital art #fanart #star ocean second story r

[eldarianduelist]

Plushies I wish were real

#plushies #design #faize sheifa beleth #ashton anchors #jc denton #malroth #dark prince #prince of Persia #legacy of kain #kain #raziel #soul reaver #my art #fanart

[parabolab33m]

crying becuz we were robbed of chuuni red eyed ashton when anamnesis ended

i think the game is still playable somehow but on private servers only?

#star ocean #star ocean 2 #star ocean anamnesis #ashton anchors

[kat-dezaraye]

Added Celine and Bowman to my Etsy store recently. I was hoping to have Opera, Precis, Dias, and Leon done in time for the SacAnime Convention, but, alas, they will have to come at a later time.

#star ocean 2 #star ocean second evolution #star ocean second story #rena lanford #claude c. kenni #claude kenni #ashton anchors #bowman jean #celine jules

[mixed-up-multiverse]

@muses-inn sent: “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.“ (Ashton to Unico)

Beauty and the Beast starters | Not Accepting

He had gotten himself stuck in a trap while exploring this new place he'd woken up in, and his mind and memories hurt when he tried to think about how he could have possibly ended up here.

...And why he had felt the gentle breeze of the West Wind as he was just opening his eyes...

But while wandering to find out what this place was, he had been caught in a snare trap. It was a miracle that he was not dead (as the snares had only wrapped around his legs and body), but it was still very scary.

This humanoid stranger had noticed and offered to help, which Unico was grateful for, although the baby unicorn was understandably nervous. What if one wrong move would activate more snares?

“Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.“

Unico tried to calm himself down when the other spoke those words; despite his fears, he had a feeling that panicking would most likely worsen things more than the other doing something incorrectly. So he took a deep breath and tried to stop shaking to the best of his ability, in order to allow the other to properly set him free.

"O-Okay..." He kept one eye open to watch, anxiously hoping it wouldn't hurt.

#💫 little lost unicorn ( ic ) #💫 we just got a letter! ( ask ) #muses-inn #Ashton Anchors tag pending //

[countlessrealities]

Unconventional first meetings

@muses-inn sent: [ MIXED ] : in a restaurant or cafe, both muses’ orders are swapped due to a mix up (Morty getting served the 3 cups of water that Ashton ordered for Creepy, Weepy and himself)

In spite of what he might say while he and Rick were going through a fight, Morty doesn't make it a habit to go on adventures on his own. At most, he heads back to the places where Rick's drunk rampages have created more trouble than favour and fixes them, so that they don't have yet another piece of the multiverse hunting them down, but those trips don't count as adventures in his book. Not really.

After all, as his grandfather would say, adventures, to be called such, need four things: conflict, stakes, a way for Rick to benefit from them and, clearly, the two of them as a duo. Even if he wouldn't admit it, to avoid being mocked, the boy is extremely fond of this definition.

So, him sitting in a tavern in a world that's a mixture between high fantasy and sci-fi counts, as most, as an interdimensional trek. Not that it could have been more than that. He knows too well what the scientist thinks of that sort of planets.

Morty's thoughts are abruptly interrupted as three cups of water are set down in front of him, instead of the slightly alcoholic local drink he has ordered. The teen stares at the for a long moment, eyes wide with confusion, and then whips his head up to inform the server of the mishap...just to find out that they have already walked away.

Oh geez, this is really awkward.

"...Uh..." He lets out, carefully looking around for a group who might have ordered the three cups of water.

Most of the patrons are alone or in pairs, so he has no luck until his eyes land on a guy who has two dragons' heads sprouting out of his back. Is that kind of thing normal around there?

Still, he seems to be the only one who counts as a "trio", so the teen gets up, balancing the three cups in his hands, and carries the drinks over to the man's table.

"H-Hey, sorry for bothering you, but...Uh, I-I think these were meant for you and your...friends?" Amber eyes skittishly glanced at the dragons. They don't seem particularly friendly or cheerful. "A-Anyway, here's your...water."

#[ threads :: Morty ] #&& Ashton Anchors #&& Creepy #&& Weepy #[ v. Forever a hundred years ; main verse :: Morty ] #musesinn #[[ you probably forgot to have sent this in but ]] #[[ I did not...even if it took me ages to get it done x.x ]] #[[ lmk if you need to change something! ]]

[leafslash]

THERE is a peculiar scene playing out in one of the many trendy cafes of Cotes Ward this afternoon… Amidst a shop full of gawking patrons, one rather unusual man stands at odds with the cashier. It's unclear whether his fellow customers stare at him with the reason for the monstrously bizarre serpents jutting out of his back, or if they gaze with contempt for the disturbance he causes. But honestly, it very well could be both. ❝ Nonsense! We care little for this so-called 'Dust' you insist upon. Our proposal is a perfectly fair transition—this small confectionary should cost no more than a 100 Fol, generously speaking. A bounty carried out by us is worth one thousand fold. You would be foolish to refuse it. ❞ ❝ Sir, I'm a cashier… I don't need a hit on someone, I need to see your payment method or I'm going to have to ask you to leave. ❞ ❝ Payment method? ❞ Another worker behind the sweets displays pipes up cautiously. ❝ Look, Sir. You're disrupting our patrons. I'm calling security. ❞ ❝ Feh! Your half-hearted threats hold no weight against us. We will leave of our own accord, for clearly you lot are fools. ❞ The man turns with an air of arrogance, the creatures on his back warding away the displeased staff like a torch waved in their faces as they come in direct proximity with them. Very well… He'll take his leave. Though first, his eyes fall on a loudly dressed fellow sitting at a table, a cake laying delectably on a plate in front of him like a sitting duck. There's a moment of sizing up their opponent until he is ultimately branded an 'easy target'. Like stealing candy from a baby, the sweet is yoinked away from him by the dish. The man, delighted, only guffaws. ❝ Hah! But we said nothing of leaving empty-handed. ❞

❝ We're beyond the point of bartering. You have your fellow humans to thank. ❞ @schleckermaul — (wrestling emoji)

#(its always sunny title card) Ashton Anchors and Xerxes Break End Up In Jail #I FORGOT HOW SILLY THESE STUPID DRAGONS ARE HGDJFG #ashton's little life ruiners. <3 #schleckermaul #schleckermaul 001.

[shorthaltsjester]

chetney’s “i don’t understand what happened… i thought fearne was gonna take it? what happened?!?!”

imogen yelling “what did you do?!?” and casting telekinesis trying to hold ashton together as their body breaks beneath her magic. casting watery sphere and watching it turn to steam as she casts it. her mage hand futilely unbuckling the straps of the harness to get it away, to try and separate ashton from the choice he made without them.

fearne, making another agreement to watch someone she cares for die, another promise to do what’s right when the time comes. burning her hands on ashton’s body as she refuses to stop healing him, keeping up an aura to drag their dying body back to life over and over.

laudna staring on, helpless as she stands at the top of ziggurat haunted by the same woman who haunts her, watching ashton break into pieces.

fcg approaching to help and being seared with the heat emanating from ashton, desperately calling out to the changebringer to save ashton, getting no response.

orym looking on, a 19 perception check to tell him that ashton is dying before his eyes. seedling grasping out desperately to help in the only futile way that a fighter with no arcane nor divine ability can.

bell’s hells as this group of people who have had lives made up of choices that feel meaningless, that have been futile, that have left them ‘npcs’ in other people’s stories. and doing everything that shouldn’t work, that doesn’t work in an effort to save their friend ashton.

ashton, who laid broken on the ground because of their old friends who left them behind. ashton, breaking before the eyes of this new group of weirdos, of family. who survives because (of very lucky dice roles) imogen hears them in trouble and runs back up the zigguraut, and the rest of the party follows. because fcg and fearne will keep him anchored to this world even if only 70% of their body remains whole. ashton who shouldn’t have survived, who all the hells watched die and get shattered into pieces and then come back together.

very very excited to see where the hell this takes our group of self sacrificing weirdos

#ashton greymoore #cr3 #cr spoilers #critical role #bell’s hells #imogen temult #fearne calloway #laudna #chetney pock o'pea #fcg #fresh cut grass #orym

[your-reference-here]

Something something this bit of dialogue from the Delilah and Laudna conversation in the recent episode after Laudna ran away from the group to avoid hurting Ashton and giving in to Delilah's influence to take the fire crystal...

Laudna: "Ashton hurt Fearne. He hurt us."

Delilah: "Yes. People do that."

Laudna: "Why do you think that I would do the same?"

Delilah: "Because—"

Laudna: "If Ashton cannot learn from this lesson, then shouldn't others? Shouldn't I at least? I already hurt Imogen last time that a sparkly rock got in the way. Why didn't Ashton learn from that? Ashton could've learned from my mistakes."

Something something this bit of dialogue from the Imogen and Laudna confession/kiss back in Ep. 65 when Laudna was so scared of her actions when they were apart...

Laudna: "I don't know if you realize how much of an anchor you are for me. And when you weren't, when you weren't there, I was adrift. And Imogen, when— you make me better, and when you weren't there, I did horrible things. I'm afraid... I'm a bad person, Imogen."

Imogen: "You're not a bad person. You're not a bad person." *interrupting kiss* "I've heard everything inside of you, Laudna. You are not a bad person."

Something something Laudna proving Imogen's assertion through her words and actions even when her anchor isn't there.

#it's not a totally coherent thought but man is it giving me some feels #imodna #laudna #critical role

[beedreamscape]

VERY LONG POST EXPLORING C3 AND WHY SO MANY PEOPLE MIGHT NOT LIKE IT/MY PERSONAL GRIPES WITH IT.

I ended up exploring a bit of that Reddit community of critical role fans (not the main one) where they basically gather together and commiserate how much they hate C3. It's frustrating to read because at some point you can tell they make no effort to engage positively with the campaign and have a penchant for hating anything about it.

But, from the perspective of someone with very little emotional connection to the past campaigns, I kinda get why C3 feels so different and, in my opinion, it's all about personal stakes for the characters.

As writers, we constantly hear that we must give the characters something personal to care about so that the reader may care about the plot - yeah city-destroying laser beam is a big stake, but if main character's loved one will be used as a sacrifice to the aliens to activate the laser beam unless they do something, the tension doubles.

And with a shallow look over the arcs of the past campaigns, especially the fans' favourites, a pattern I find is of those with heavy personal stakes:

People often point the Briarwoods arc as a favourite. It's not just about bringing down the powerful Briarwoods, it's about avenging Percy's family and bringing his beloved Whitestone back to its past glory, all mixed with the fighting of personal demons.

We also got Vax'ildans overarching arc with the Raven Queen and Scanlan's with Kaylie and his self-worth/discovery in the party.

In campaign three, the struggle of Fjord getting over Uk'otoa's influence and turning to the Wildmother, rediscovering himself. Bright Queen's Favor with freeing Yuza, uncovering Nott's past, grappling with their preconceptions of the empire and the dynasty, and meeting Essek. Losing then Recovering Yasha from Obann. Traveler Con.

This post about the first third of the C2 comparing it to C1 explains quite well how M9 is driven by the party's personal stakes over any obligation to any institution.

Not only personal stakes that build the value of the campaign, but places that grow as their own: Whitestone, Emon, Zephrah, Xhorhas, the Menagerie Coast, Zedash, etc.

That's what's missing from Campaign 3: anchors and personal stakes.

Bells Hells doesn't really care about anything! We're entrenched in the Ruidus plot ever since we learned what ruidusborn means in the beginning of the campaign and yet, what does that mean to them? It was the subject of Imogen's dreams and afflictions but what else? The main victims of it will be the gods, but they repeatedly state how much they don't care for the gods and are in doubt if losing them would be bad anyway.

In a certain perspective, I don't blame them - the plot has grown so massive and subjective, while they haven't - they're still level 10 nobodies against a god-eating moon-shaped monster and the insanely powerful guy that wants to free it.

Bells Hells doesn't care for the places they walk through! Only two members of the party are actually from Marquet! Imogen and Dorian. And both are running from their past! so they don't even want to be there! Ashton hates everything about it and all the others have no reason to cling to it.

Jrusar was such a great city with great dynamics that were only half explored and they don't seem to care to return to it even though so much goes unexplored. Yios meant nothing nor did Heartmoor or the Taloned Highlands (and its apparently juicy political intrigues nobody cared to explore) and barely a mention of Ank'harel or the Silken Squall.

WHY do we keep going back to Taldorei???

Marquet as a whole goes mostly unexplored and underused in the campaign and it's so upseting.

Bells Hells have nothing to lose! They hold no personal stakes to the plot, most of them don't have families and those that do feel like something so distant and impersonal, no place or city they love or feel connected to, the only thing they owned (the very valuable skyship rip) they destroyed with barely any consideration. Their morals feel like the only thing at stake and even that feels already lost.

C3 is pulling too much from past campaigns. From the moment they first contacted the VM people, it felt like a mistake, and every appearance since has felt so much like fan service (especially bc specific fan favourites are the recurring appearances, no variety). The time spent in Whitestone, the connections to Delilah, everything with Keyleth, etc.

This last one, in particular, contributes to that group of NPCs feeling, always revolving around some other character struggle - who cares what is going on with Bells Hells when Vax's trapped in an orb and Keyleth is half dying, and Caleb is in an anti-magic collar, and Trent is probably loose, and this character and that character...

We haven't spent proper time with C3-exclusive NPCs excluding Nana Morri since episode 50! No Lord Eshteross or Xandis or Ira or Jiana Hexum or the Green Seekers or Milo. It was so special to me having Dancer and Imahara Joe around even if briefly.

And Lord Eshteross death left such a huge gap in the dynamics of the party with the world. I think it was premature, especially because the thirst to avenge him (which I suppose was meant to fuel their hate and intention to kill Otohan) lasted so little and from there on out began the heavy and meta-gamey (and personally, OOC) relying on VM characters.

The ticking clock on the apogee solstice strained much of the campaign and brought this looming fear of 'if we don't take care of it nobody will so we can't waste time', therefore the alternative paths and personal arcs fell to the sidelines in favor of the elephant in the room, so it felt like several episodes of dragging towards this event, then the peak of ep 50-51, to re-start the drag of post moon beam.

Guest PCs are a whole other can of worms I'm not ready to explore also bc it entails a lot, but it's a shared sentiment that people miss Dorian and what he brought to the table.

On a personal view, the Hellcath Valley was my favorite arc. Bassuras felt so tactile and real and gritty, we had a clear objective of infiltrating the Paragon's Call and retrieving Armand Treshi, Deathwish Run, the mystery of Dusk unveiling into Yu, Fearne's parents encounter, Ira, Imahara Joe and reveals about Dancer and D., first FCG nervous attack, Otohan battle and Laudna's death. SO MUCH.

Special mentions to everything Jrusar and Shade Creepers, Heartmoor and the Museum, Savalirwood, and the time spent on the Silver Sun.

I miss these small-scale objectives, I miss the C3 NPCs, I miss Marquet, I miss turning our eyes to these character tensions and exploration, I miss the one-on-one talks, the unity they shared in those dire moments.

I can't wait to leave the Predathos plot and all the repetitive discussions within it behind.

This doesn't cover everything (interpersonal relationships are a whole other spectrum of discussion) but a few things I feel puts an obstacle towards people liking this campaign when comparing the past ones.

#it feels like i've been writing for hours and I might've been #why am i writing this? well good you asked....... *crikets* #i needed to put this out of my head #i needed to put into words why i can't argue the hateful claims while loving campaign 3 and bells hells #bells hells #cr meta #critical role #cr spoilers #rambles #c3

[unicyclehippo]

Cinnamon

the reunion is noisy, confusing, bloody, harsh, fractured in the manner of the world now. ashton yells, their voice a crack of triumphant thunder. fcg is a whir of blade and shining metal and—legs? orym smiles, for the first time in days, certainly. weeks, perhaps. she can’t recall how long, only that she has missed it. chetney is himself, and then half of himself as the wolf splits his chest and lunges out to crunch jaws around the head of the elongated red threat.

imogen.

at the sight of her, the fractured world regains an anchor. there may be a rift in the world, there may be an egg-cracked moon, their compasses may spin and turn, untethered, but laudna needs none of that when imogen is back where she can see her.

laudna cries black tears and the roots of her dreadful form creak, wrapping around her skull, following the same path. it makes a spectacle of her, and it’s own hunger, forms a crown of creeping roots that tangles in her hair and branches shoot out, soot-black, scorched, jagged and tearing across the soft grey of the afternoon sky.

they fight. they win. there are hugs and drinking and food and safety, or what passes for it these days—a flood of information gathered about the encroaching danger and everything they had missed, separated—lightning lizards as big as a fuckin’ sky ship—oh shit what happened to xandis d’you think—these pits in the fucking ground, right, and cliffs like fucking knives and it steams up burned the shit out of me look at my fucking elbow it’s half fucking melted—saved a sacred bull—killed an angel of the dawn father—run that by me again you did what now?—ran—climbed—lost a goddamn nail but orym was a peach and found it for me—fought—fought—fought—prayed—bled screamed killed searched cried fought—

‘but you have reconnected now,’ FCGs friend (companion?) commented, with a gentle lilt to their tone. ‘i have no love of the gods, but to borrow a word of theirs, i find that to be miraculous.’

‘yeah. yeah, you’re right, FRIDA,’ FCG nodded. ‘it is pretty miraculous, isn’t it? don’t they have such a way with words?’

they held hands. ashton, who had been glaring mildly at FRIDA since they were first introduced, continued to glare. it was, laudna thought, rather nice of him to be so welcoming to FCGs new companion.

‘yeah,’ ashton grunted. ‘they’re super.’

FCG beamed.

‘and this must be your laudna,’ someone said, and laudna looked over to see an armoured gnome, dark of skin and bright of smile. she directed her words to imogen—who stood a scant centimetre from laudna’s side, who had entangled her mind and hands with laudna and would not let her go—don’t leave, no not ever, missed you, missed you, looked for you, searched, ache behind the eyes searched empty, spoke to you, screamed, looked for you, messages on messages static in the head searching reaching out empty empty empty longing hollow stay here stay with me in me of me—

‘my laudna,’ imogen agrees, and her thumb slips over a knuckle, settles between two. ‘this is deanna,’ imogen continues after a moment, shame blooming pink over her cheeks. stunning. ‘she’s knits the most wonderful everything, laudna, and she’s incredible, a cleric, a healer, and—‘ imogen stops speaking aloud but in laudna’s head speaks, finally, no longer the raw and endless electric livewire between them but purposeful message. she died, a long time ago.

laudna’s grip tightens on imogen’s hand. don’t leave. ‘it’s lovely to meet you,’ laudna greets the cleric, and remembers fire and fury and fear and looks on rosy cheeks and bright eyes and full, warm, living flesh. don’t leave. ‘i’m something of a maker myself, i made this dress and some clothes for pate and sashimi, and curtains—i’m very good at curtains—and im quite fond of other mediums too, painting, i’ve done some painting, and taxidermy, gardening, woodwork—‘

‘laudna is very capable,’ imogen says.

laudna stammers to a stop. warmth curls up through her neck, her cheeks. she knows she’s gone blotchy when imogen reaches for her neck, undoes the bandana there and ties it round laudna’s neck.

gallows, rotted rope. unmarked graves. dirt beneath her nails. zealotry heavy on her tongue, tallow grease and smoke.

imogen pauses, unravels the knot before it can be tied.

bed?

laudna leans close, tilts her head onto imogen’s shoulder. they step away, making no excuses or explanations, and take a room in the inn. laudna makes tea, pack of spices in her bag from issylra. mintsharp leaves and cinnamon bark. flowers. pine needles to add to a hot bath.

‘i missed you,’ imogen croaks.

laudna stares down into her tea.

‘laud?’

a warm hand curls around her wrist. tugs her over to the bed where they sit, side by side.

‘hey.’ gentle, so gentle, the hand against her jaw. coaxing her to look at her, look anywhere near her. ‘are you alright?’

laudna nods.

‘really?’ imogen’s smile is quick—fond, undeniably, but fast and tight. ‘because i’m a fucking mess.’

laudna’s laugh is wet, as tears spring to her eyes, overflow. ‘oh i’m s-sorry, i’m sorry darling, i don’t mean to—i’m alright, really—‘

‘would you look at me?’

for a moment, laudna doesn’t. cannot. what if everything has changed? what if this is some cruel trick? not her imogen at all? a nudge to her chin, a murmur, please, and laudna flicks her eyes up finally to see her. violet nimbus. scars crawling up the length of her beautiful neck almost to her chin. the smouldering red of her fingers. the wet, longing desperation of her eyes.

her fingers twitch, skitter up imogen’s arm. laudna brushes her crooked fingers over a tear stained cheek—beautiful.

‘i’m not alright, i wasn’t alright without you,’ she admits, voice shaking, fingers shaking. she drags her nails across the soft of imogen’s cheeks; not to hurt, never to hurt, only to feel and see the white trail left behind. ‘i never wish to be apart from you. never again.’

imogen doesn’t pull away; she leans in, nods. ‘my better half,’ she murmurs.

‘my everything,’ laudna returns, and it is easy to lean in, there is no fear left in her to stop her from touching her forehead to imogen’s, from tilting imogen’s head, from pressing her lips to imogen’s. the kiss is soft and gentle and unhurried and laudna is the only frightening thing about it.

imogen laughs, picking up the thought as it curls, delicious and delighted, on the current between them.

‘my love,’ imogen says, just because she can, and kisses her again.

//

there is a knock on their bedroom door, and a quiet voice intrudes.

‘does anyone—excuse me, pardon me, so sorry for the interruption it’s just i was hoping that you might like to fill out a survey on your experience of the apogee solstice, and reuniting, if i could take just a quick fifteen, twenty minutes of your time?’

#you can ignore this #tagging my stories #imodna my beloveds #cr tag

[sparring-spirals]

(im extremely caffeinated rn this might not make sense, lets go)

With recent events, absolutely amped for Bell's Hells to become a full manifestation of the concept "horrific force of nature".

Between Orym, and Fearne and now Laudna, plants that grow and sprout and die around them, all the pretty bits of nature as well as the horrifying aspects of it. Waking up with flowers grown over and into you. Branches outstretched like fingertips, roots that can ground and choke. Vines that move on their own and wrap around your neck like a noose. Poisons and toxins growing around you. Out of you. Exquisite. Fantastic.

With Imogen, a storm, raging, crackling, bearing down, rain that could either save you or flood you. The sky turning a deep, deep red, cloud cover and nature gone silent in the face of something awful. Lightning and wind that can tear everything to pieces, that drown out everything else, set things aflame and rip them apart. Sexy. Unparalleled.

With Chetney, a wolf, howling in the distance, bloodlust that crawls in your veins, rage that is bestial and also very, very natural. A wild look in someone's eyes, glint of sharp teeth in the dark, predator and prey and jackrabbitting hearts. Visceral. Passionate.

With Ashton- Time, space, gravity, literal forces of nature, slowling and warping and bending around you. Your limbs inexorably heavy, your feet no longer planted on the same patch of ground, everything going too fast or too slow. Laws of the universe, the things keeping it anchored- all bending around you to swallow you whole. Right before a big ole stone cracks your head open. Horrifying. Inexplicable. (cool as hell).

And even with F.C.G: Something manmade, a pure technological advancement, metal and magic fused. Except: everything about them, their purpose, their kindness- wrapped up in human emotions, feelings and passion. Vulnerabilities too. Insecurities, weaknesses, patterns of mistakes made by all living minds. There is nothing more natural. Nothing more inescapable. Mortifying. Awesome as fuck.

Bell's Hells! Forces of nature! By some broad definition. With all of the inherent horror and menace that term implies. Bell's Hells as a spooky, otherworldly troupe, except everything about them is the worst bits of this world come to life. hell yes.

#have some lovely meta provoking asks in my inbox but i also had coffee which means my brain is going TOO fast for it so instead we get this #anyway its about FORCES OF NATURE AND NATURAL THINGS AND ALSO SPOOKY. spooky season. this is a halloween post i guess #im absolutely VIBRATING im going to get off my phone now. have fun with this folks. #critical role #c3e38 #bell's hells #meta #character meta #my meta #narrative meta #(?) #MAN I DIDNT EVEN TALK ABOUT THE FIRE. AND THE HELL. but thats there too

[alexcampbell5265]

Hey so I matched up a good chunk of the Critical Role PCs with songs from the Crane Wives. Obviously a lot of the songs could be used for other characters and some of them have other songs that apply, these are just the ones that spoke the deepest to me per character.

Vox Machina

Vax - Canary in a Coal Mine

Vex - Easier

Keyleth - Ancient History

Percy - Curses

Grog - The Glacier House

Pike - Safe Ship, Harbored

Scanlan - The Moon Will Sing

Taryon - New Discoveries

Mighty Nein

Fjord - Can’t Go Back

Nott/Veth- Never Love an Anchor

Beau - Pretty Little Things

Jester - Icarus

Yasha - Sleeping Giants

Caleb - Hollow Moon

Molly - The Hand that Feeds

Caduceus - Keep You Safe

Essek - Tongue and Teeth

Bells Hells

Imogen - October

Orym - How to Rest

Dorian - Empty Page

Ashton - Volta

Laudna - Nobody

FCG - I Ain’t Done

Chetney - Unraveling

Fearne - Take me to War

#critical role #vax'ildan #vex'ahlia #keyleth #percy de rolo #grog strongjaw #scanlan shorthalt #pike trickfoot #taryon darrington #fjord stone #beauregard lionett #jester #yasha nydoorin #cadeuces clay #mollymauk tealeaf #veth brenatto #caleb widogast #essek theyless #laudna #imogen temult #fcg #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #chetney pock o'pea #dorian storm #fearne calloway #the crane wives

[biorust-art]

The Anchor and The Kite

--

I love it when these two interact

[Image Description: Digital drawing of Ashton Greymoore and Laudna from Critical Role. The two are huddled together against the sandstorm, Ashton has his arm around Laudna in a tight grip and is whispering something in her ear. He has goggles and a brown cloak around himself. Laudna’s face is obscured by an off-white cloak that she grips tightly around herself, her hair is whipping in the wind. Billowing sand obscures them, making their silhouette blend in with the brown background. End ID] 

#laudna #ashton greymoore #critical role #bells hells #c3e32 #ashtons gonna be all smooth and shinny after this #jewelry shopping with the kindred spirits woop