Tumgik
#now if anything happens to jester this will be bonkers
scoups4lyfe · 1 year
Note
SCOUPS BAAAAACK *tackle hugs Scoup*
MY COMRADE IN ARMSSSSSSSSSSS
Tumblr media
HAHAHAHA I **AM** back >:D
I feel great. (Ironically LOL)
☆⌒(ゝ。∂)
Update wise:
My psychiatrist upped my mood stabilizer dosage.
I was taking 50mg,,,, now I"m taking 100mg,,, and this Saturday It'll be upped to 200mg. (Wild.)
Hmmm. When I first started the 100mg --11 days ago-- I fell out of my manic episode like a jester falling down a steep cliff. (ghjnsdkghgsf)
And by that I mean I lost all of my emotions LOL!
......:D Calling it depression feels wrong. Like, I couldn't feel anything. Not sad, not depressed, just nothing 😛. It was to the point that I did exactly what I was NOT supposed to do and started drinking caffeine (which I never drink) just to feel alive.
I mean,,,,, it WORKED (LOL). But the moment it ran out, like a snap of the finger, BOOM. Immediately empty. The kind of empty where you can't even fake a smile. Honestly-- I felt like an empty glass cup more than a human.
This last for about 5 days, then I started to normalize and have felt normal (ish) since then. But while my mental health was stabilizing my physical health said:
Tumblr media
So at like 7 PM today I went to the ER (as one does) and got home maybe 2 hours ago (it's like 4:30 AM rn); and apparently I have a kidney infection and what not.
The reason why I went to the ER: Eating 2 spoons of rice made my stomach feel like I had eaten burning knives. I ate 3/7th's a banana like ....6 hours later (mind you this is ALL I had to eat today, and I'm being literal about the 2 spoonfuls of rice) and the banana made me feel like my stomach was gonna implode or something. So I was like 'well well well. So it's come to this.'
(The stomach pain has been for like weeks LOL. I gaslight myself into thinking I'm bonkers and then it's like 'do I want a $20,000 hospital bill, for nothing?' 😛)
Took some medication for it (the infection) and I feel...fking fantastic rn >:].
Med wise --as I said above; this Saturday my dosage get's upped to 200 MG. And I have absolutely no fkin idea how this will affect me.
IDK if I'll become an empty shell again; or if it'll repeat what happened last time
(when I took 25 mg it did this same thing; but when I took 50 MG like...literally went manic LOL.)
Which means my 3 options Saturday onward:
Nothing happens. My mood is stable. I'm normal and human.
I tank and lose all my emotions and ability to feel anything.
I go manic (and at 200 MG????? dawg I'd just become literally not even on earth anymore).
Like if I wanted to eat / lick book pages when I was manic during my 50 mg arc,,,, wtf would 200 MG do to me if I went manic????? Lortd.
LONG a$$ recap. But yeah. Now that I'm being treated for my physical whatever-the-fvck; guess it's just on what these mood stabilizers do to me.
Either way I'd love to go stupid and crazy live-blogging again >:]]
6 notes · View notes
Text
foreshadowinnngggg
52 notes · View notes
elsinore-rose · 3 years
Note
ok I am literally going bonkers at all of those wips and while I am dying (like. DYING dying) for more build me up from ashes I kinda need to know about the 5 things Jester hates about Caleb fic. like. right now.
Jester hates Caleb’s taste in pastries. 
Most desserts, really. Actually most food. Over half a year she’s known him, and not once has she seen him voluntarily eat something interesting. Oh, sure, he’ll try stuff when she asks him to — fried octopus in Nicodranas, tapioca tea in Asarius, those little candies they make in Hupperdook that pop and sizzle in your mouth — but he never likes it. Caleb likes boring food. Bread, beer, simple stews. An apple that he can toss in his hand as they’re all walking along the road. Strudel, which is good, yeah, everybody likes strudel, but it’s not exciting. Not like a dragonfruit donut topped with cinnamon and lemon shavings and just a hint of salt. 
(“Why — why is it — spicy?” he chokes out between gulps of milk, his face flaming red as if Jester has just made a sly comment about how well his new Xhorhassian trousers fit him. 
“It’s dragonfruit, Cayleb, of course it’s spicy!” she grins. “What were you expecting?”
“I have learned to expect the unexpected with you,” Caleb grumbles once he’s gained his composure, still wincing a bit at the heat in his mouth, “but I will admit that a spicy donut was not something I thought I would have to watch out for.”
“It’s not even that spicy.” Jester grabs the offending pastry from in front of Caleb and takes a bite of her own. “It’s really mild, Cayleb, do you just never have hot food in the north?” she asks with her mouth full. 
“No, our cuisine is like the rest of our lives: cold and miserable,” Caleb deadpans. “It is why we are known for being so much fun.”
He flicks a speck of lemon peel at Jester, and she giggles. Well. He is fun.)
She asks him one day, as they’re sitting together at a corner table in a little tavern in Port Damali, why he never turns down anything she suggests, whether it’s spider caviar, bacon-flavored ice cream, or sparkling jello. He knows he won’t enjoy it, so why try it in the first place? It’s not like Jester is pushy about it, she never pressures him — never has to, honestly, it takes so little effort to convince him. 
Caleb goes quiet for a few moments, his face taking on that shadow that means his thoughts are somewhere in his past, and then he replies, “When you grow up knowing hunger, you learn to give anything a chance. Stale food, half-rotten food, grass, paper. As long as it fills your belly it doesn’t much matter how it tastes.” And he gives her one of his grim, wry smiles, there in an instant and gone the next. “Some old lessons are...hard to unlearn.”
“Oh...Cayleb…” She doesn’t know what to say. Feels a little bit stupid, a little bit ashamed. “I — I won’t — if it bothers you, I won’t — ”
“It doesn’t bother me.” Now his smile returns, still small, still with that strange distant sadness that always seems to linger around his lips, but warmer. “You know, one of these days I will surprise myself, end up finding something I like. A new favorite.”
“You think so?” Jester can’t help but smile back. 
Caleb’s gaze is soft. “It has happened before.”
It’s not his taste in food that she hates, Jester thinks to herself later that night, curled up in yet another unfamiliar bed in yet another rented tavern room, listening to Beau snoring lightly from a few yards away. It’s the fact that so much of his life has been spent fighting for it. That food was never able to be just an adventure for him, a pleasure, a treat. She hates that that was stolen from him. She hates that he has starved. 
Before they leave town the next morning she buys a bag of fresh apples and tosses one to him as they’re heading out. He catches it, and his smile is like cinnamon.
234 notes · View notes
momowho34 · 3 years
Text
Okay I have not watched a single fucking episode of Merlin but I did read a bunch of folkloric Arthur tales and let me tell you Merlin is my favorite goddamn character I love him so fucking much. Absolutely bonkers. like here’s a list of all my favorite things he does in the actual folklore, like I can not make this shit up it’s actually in the writings
He’s had silver hair since he was seven which everyone thought was really fucking weird but he was like a really creepy small child so no one ever said anything
He has a bestie who’s a straight up catholic bishop but doesn’t mind his druid-ing because “he understands there are ways of wisdom other then his own” and they like regularly have brunch and are totally bro’s which is the most un-catholic thing I’ve ever heard but okay it’s hilarious I’ll take it
Pendragon goes “help me get with this lady Merlin pls” and Merlin responds with “sure but give me ur first born son” and without even thinking pendragons like “sure why not idgaf” (spoiler alert the son is Arthur)
Merlin regularly pops in to hang out with Arthur’s foster father every once in a while wearing increasingly confusing costumes so as not to be recognized. these costumes are included but no limited to; a juggling jester, a traveling magician, and a bear tamer (????)
Arthur is like “me? King??? I’m ten!!!!” and Merlin shows up out of nowhere to be like “head up kid this is ur destiny time to go to war I believe in u”
Arthur’s like “who tf are you????” And Merlins like “the ancient power that orchestrated your birth and entire life and will now guide you into being a king of legend” and Arthur’s like “oh ok 0-0”
Arthur: Merlin stop spitting cryptic prophecies at the dinner table ur scaring the guests
Some king is like “my prophets say I must kill the silver haired child to win the war!!” And Merlin shows up as a nine year old and is like “u fucking dork no of course u don’t have to sacrifice children I will keep you from killing me with my creepy grass powers leaving only a faint song on the breeze in my wake”
He proceeds to show this king two straight up fucking dragons before being like “btw ur destined to die and fail in being king lol see ya sucker” and then vanishes into the wind and disappears for like ten chapters
That time where he’s like “come Arthur we must go to a lake to talk to my creepy faerie girlfriend nimue so she can give you a sweet kickass sword”
Arthur’s like “check out this bomb table I inherited isn’t it neat lol” and Merlin responds with “I was there when that table was made 10,000 years ago I met the man who built it with the help of fae and dwarfs and laced the gold into the top of it and that is really a magical table I helped create with spoopy magic powers” and Arthur’s once again goes “oh ok 0-0”
Arthur is king for 2.3 seconds before Merlin is like “hey remember my faerie girlfriend well she’s going to seal me in an oak tree for hundreds of years lol bye loser good luck being king” and that’s exactly what happens (Arthur doesn’t take it well)
These are just the things I could remember but dear god is this bitch hilarious I love him sm
78 notes · View notes
nellasbookplanet · 3 years
Text
Rambling a bit about critical role and fandom attitudes under the cut, because I’ve had a lot of Thoughts lately and the only way to get some peace and quiet inside my own head is if I take those thoughts and Put them Somewhere Else.
So I think the critrole fandom is probably the first bigger fandom that I’ve been actively involved with, and it has suddenly made me realize why people talk about fandom as a sometimes very tiring thing. Before this I’ve usually only  entered fandoms way after they stopped being active, or was only very peripherally involved, or the fandom itself was super tiny. When getting into a new show/book/movie I usually look up common criticisms of it, partly out of curiosity, partly to see if there was something I missed. Sometimes this will give me actual thoughtful meta, sometimes it gives absolutely bonkers takes, but I’ve always felt far enough removed to just go yikes and back slowly away whenever I stumbled on drama.
With critrole I’m suddenly involved As It Happens, and for some reason it hits a lot harder than stumbling on it several years later. For the first time I’ve actually felt the need to block people, because my habit to look up criticisms led to me stumbling only viciously toxic blogs where any valid takes where drowned out by pure drivel and hate.
And I think that’s what probably upsets me a little. There’s no middle ground. Either people are claiming the show is beyond criticism to the point of harassing anyone that doesn’t agree, or they’re actively looking for problems and blowing anything they find out of proportion while pretending their personal opinion is 100 percent objective and acting like a dnd show can be critiqued following the same guidelines as other media.
Like, what comes first to mind here for me are the people who accused Liam of being homophobic for doing m/f romances when playing bi characters (to the point of calling it a pattern, even if it has only happened once; Caleb is, after all, still single in cr2 (and don’t get me started on the “pretends Essek is evil to avoid doing m/m romance” when Essek's alignment is literally evil, no pretending involved)). And it’s like, I get why this is frustrating, but it’s also such a viciously bad faith take that ignores the medium it’s being played in. In the case of vaxleth vs vaxmore, it really isn’t so strange that he chose a pc/pc pairing over an npc/pc one; it gives a lot more chances for interactions instead of just popping up every now and then when they happen to visit the right city. Same thing when it comes to cr2, with the bonus that Caleb developed feelings for Jester way before he even met Essek. And cr2 doesn’t really give him the option of m/m pc/pc romance, since: Molly (dead), Fjord (played by Travis, romance averse except with his irl wife) and Caduceus (aroace). None of this is the kind of stuff you'd have to take into account when critiquing a movie or tv show, but a dnd show is a fundamentaly different medium.
Another take I’ve seen is that Beau being a woc is only for brownie points since there’re no real life asian influences in her character or background, or that Keyleth should’ve been a woc since she’s canonically from a mixed background. These are interesting takes! But when delivered as Objectively Correct while ignoring people saying they prefer Beau as she is because they don’t want to see a white woman role play their culture, or ignore that cr1 started as a home game, not a planned tv show (I doubt it’s a coincidence that Keyleth and her player look visually similar), well. The interesting takes drown under the Need To Be Right.
(I could also talk about the bj vs by discourse here, but I’ve already made a post about that and I don’t have the energy to do it twice so I’ll sum it up as: bj was given unfairly little closure, but by didn’t “come out of nowhere”, the two ships simply have wildly different dynamics, one being best friends to lovers, the other being seeing and falling for each other from a distance)
And all this sucks! I see so posts that makes me want to Discuss but people’s need to either be aggressively “optimistic” and ignore criticisms or viciously hate on anything they don’t like under the cover of progressivism make me keep away and stay in my curated corner. I just miss being able to look for meta and criticisms without drowning in toxicity, bad faith takes and ship wars.
5 notes · View notes
neotrinitythinker · 4 years
Note
prompt for dr whomst've'yain't've: ryan, yasmin, graham and 13 + late night dinners and bonding
Surprisingly, the cure for escaping the clutches of galactic evil on their own planet; a thousand glares from the embrace of their own time, Ryan finds, is rubbish, unhealthy amounts of fast food.
When he was younger; and back when his mum was still around, and his dad was more reliable, and his nan was... well... -
Whatever Nando's had was always good. Even when Nan had taken him in after everything, she always stopped somewhere for him when she was running errands.
Comfort food seemed to transcend countless timelines. And he wasn't sure what they were eating, but it had come from what looked to be the space version of a bad idea for food.
Compared to other trips with the woman, the day had been tame for them. Having traveled back to somewhere in the 19th century, by Graham's request, having a soft spot it seemed for Victorian England. Or; at least the clothing. Ryan took every chance to half heartedly restrain his chuckles at the ridiculous hat the older man had worn when they found the wardrobe of the TARDIS; taking the piss whenever he could - though, his outfit wasn't any better.
The Doctor hadn't been sure of the exact time they had gone to - Yaz had a few choice words to say to the box that apparently had a mind of its own, and for whatever reason the big blue time machine had, was angry at its - her? - Occupants. But the alien was sure that it was in, as she had called it, a "very cross, and unhelpful mood." With little more explanation.
Though, if he had to wager a guess for the reason behind it - he did drink something, and spill some of it (very small amounts!) onto the console. Ryan mused sheepishly.
But he had cleaned it up!
Wherever and whoever the thing was bought from, he thinks, should give her a refund for the moody machine. Even if The Doctor sometimes stared at it with some kind of timeless devotion.
It could think now. It thinks. It was annoyed. According to The Doctor, it always thought. How bonkers.
What he did know, was, that when each of them had left the (sentient, apparently. how wicked.) TARDIS, the four of them dressed to the nines in dark, period fitting clothing, it hadn't materialized somewhere discreet, not that it ever did, he reckoned.
It hadn't landed in some back alleyway; nor in grassy fields - nor empty plains.
It landed in bloody Kensington Palace.
As they stumbled out of the TARDIS, they also so happened to bump into a freckled, full mooned face girl with clothing that made Ryan think she was some kind of servant.
He's never been in a palace before.
Whoever the startled girl had been, they don't really find out, as she scatters away with urgency in her features. But Graham is already in shambles over their circumstance to begin with.
("Oh - I don't even think the TARDIS is worth as much as that painting - Doctor, will you look at that!")
Despite the worry that they might be considered trespassing - which Ryan hasn't properly expressed yet, mainly due to how in awe he is that he was in Kensington Palace in the 19th century to begin with, The Doctor had taken them on a stroll, avoiding any guards - there weren't that many to begin with; hardly any, and it had not been lost on her.
It had been odd - he certainly noticed her piqued interest over it - heard her think out loud over it, and asked a few wandering people about it in her cheery casualness. But it hadn't been cause for concern.
And then, had come trouble. Because of course, there was always that.
When they had turned the fourth consecutive hallway - the forth one that had zero people in it, (though Ryan had personally thought, that maybe - and this was perfectly reasonable to think when you were in the home of fancy privileged white people - that they were all off, somewhere, in a meeting or crowning or something to that degree) they had managed to finally be greeted by another soul.
More specifically; the soul in question had been Queen Bloody Victoria.
He thinks its her. He's definitely googled her before for enough school projects. Even if she looked older than what normally came up. Maybe a decade older than Graham.
Even more specifically; her full on sprinting form, careful to pick up her flowing silk dress, as she ran from something with green tentacles.
Naturally; even though this is definitely something to book it over - The Doctor springs headfirst into the fire.
The thing - he's never seen it before, he's seen plenty of aliens, plenty of monsters, and he's never seen this, was a creature in between a circular shape; and a square - if that was possible. It was an awkward, kind of horrifying, mix of shapes. It was green - snot kind of green, almost translucent - there was definitely an outline of a crumpled body in it.
Its eyes - entirely and completely plural - there were three dozen from its head (he thinks its a head?) down to its waist (again, probably one) dark, like unforgiving coal that had been broken into harsh bits to where all that it really was, was simply just... color. And like a terror beyond comprehension, it had tentacles screaming out and spread out on its body - it didn't have legs; it seemed to get by on them alone.
Its mouth - he was certain it was a mouth, was unhinged - near a trio of eyes on its now probable face. It looked... like a fog. A ghost of something. There was sharpness - pointy, very pointy - but it was almost hidden.
"Uh - Doc..." Graham had walked backwards - standing his ground but very clearly ready to hear the word "run" from anyone. There was apprehension on his face - like Ryan's and Yaz's, but masked by nervousness and wonder at whatever the hell they were looking at. His hat had inexplicably fallen off his head and sunk pathetically to the lavish spiral carpet.
"Doctor - what's the plan?!" Yasmin had bellowed through the inhuman noise - the thing was making noises now - darting her gaze to the sponge color haired traveler next to her - whose gaze was equally taken aback by the scene - but with an awe.
By now Victoria - should he call her something else? She was - is? in this moment - rich and a product of the 19th century, his morals say no - Victoria has gotten closer to them - enough to bolt past them with a survival instinct he didn't think he'd see from someone who seems to be quite old. The Doctor had instinctively made herself seem bigger; using the hand that didn't have her sonic in it, to shield the five against... the alien, (?) and stare down the creature.
"OI! Oh no you don't Flubber! Get back!" Yelled The Doctor, eyeing the thing. She had briefly glanced back at the four; who hadn't made any new reaction at her statement. She frowned.
"Oh come on fam!" She tried. "Flubber? I'm an alien, I can't be the only one who understands it."
From behind Yaz, Graham had hesitantly raised his hand. "I understood it." He admitted, still watching the steadily approaching creature.
The Doctor's face lit up. "Wasn't it a laugh then? Flubber?" It fell again. "Get it, cause it's green and..." She trailed off at their expressions. "You didn't laugh."
"God Almighty!" The Queen had made herself known again, hysterical in tone, but still firmly with them. "Cease your babbling, you failed jester! Destroy the monster! Get rid of it now!"
The Doctor turned back. "Right! No worries, just my wounded hearts - anyways -"
The Doctor once more lifted her sonic, the other alien having only gotten worrying closer - by now, its jaw had lowered, to where it obscured several of its facial eyes. It let out a screech - distorted, almost electrical, like a bad game in a console; and a pulsing noise filled the air as she pointed it in its direction.
For a second, it seemed like the result was nothing. The pulsing continued and continued. The thing crept closer.
And then it stopped - right in its tracks.
There was a noise; a scream, almost. But it was too distorted to really tell.
And then - whatever it was - had combusted. Totally - and utterly; a symphony of destruction, all at once showering the palace with waves of unknown emerald green goo - splattering against the pristine walls, the portraits and furniture. All of its eyes had not suffered the same fate; they simply vanished. A lone tentacle had landed at Ryan's feet, and he had jumped backwards in shocked disgust.
Despite this it didn't connect with them - all of them; that this had ended right then. Yaz still stared at nothingness - eyebrows furrowed and breaths heard and heavy. Graham was still backing away, and The Doctor still clutched firmly to her screwdriver - as if, waiting. And Ryan kept looking at the intact tentacle.
And, Then.
"Good Lord!" Victoria had stirred beside them. "What in the world was that... that... that thing?!"
This thawed the rest of them. The Doctor swirled on her feet - her bewildered - yet eager expression was present as she kneeled beside Ryan's left foot. Wordlessly, she grabbed the tentacle, keeping it distant as she used her sonic and waved it around every inch of it. She brought it back to her face, and had observed whatever the sonic had said. Afterwards, she retraced her steps, bending down to stuff a finger into one of the piles of goo.
And then she... she licked it.
"Ugh! Doctor!" He groaned, eyes squinting. "That's going to get you the alien equivalent of food poisoning."
"Alien?!" Victoria squealed.
"Huh. Can't tell what this is - or was." The Doctor rose again, the goo still on her finger, dripping. "It's not anything i've seen before. Doesn't taste familiar." Mused The Doctor.
"Lick a lot of aliens then, have you Doc?" Remarked Graham, tired.
"Would someone please tell me what is happening - who are you people - where are my guards, and what is that thing!" Yelled Victoria, again.
The Doctor glanced at her, suddenly beaming as she walked over. "Hi! It beats me!" She said cheerfully. "But you're safe now - I think that thing got to your men, and was looking at you for a nice appetizer. Also, hello! You can't recognize me, but we've met! I think? Depends on what year it is. I don't want to assume, you have just been chased down fearing for your saftey. Are you a werewolf yet?" She finished, not stopping for breath as she smiled pleasantly, stretching her hand out for a shake.
Victoria looked like she swallowed a toad.
"A... wolf..." She began. Her eyes looked to the screwdriver. "Did you say your name... was The Doctor?" Victoria finished slowly.
"Nope! But my friends did." Said The Doctor, who looked suddenly sheepish. "I know I look a bit different since we last met; I got an upgrade! But..."
It all felt surreal after that, Although he couldn't understand why, and even though they had just saved her life, Victoria had threatened, with some bad blood directed mysteriously towards the blonde, to get whatever remaining guards she could find and had, and send the four of them to the Tower of London permanently.
It was after this, that, with Graham staring at her with his mouth open, that The Doctor felt it was best to leave. Quickly. Surprisingly; it was only then that they ran.
19 notes · View notes
unicyclehippo · 5 years
Note
for the AU 5+ headcanons, the Mighty Nein but everyone works at the circus AU
fantasy circus ? imma say yes
yasha & molly do their typical acts like balancing & tarot reading & Challenge The Strong Woman To An Arm Wrestle. molly is also working on a knife act with beau which he Says is bc he wants to hit her but rly it’s bc they’re both absolutely bonkers & queer & they were like hey this would be fun
beau is an acrobat she had a wild trapeze act & also she does a stage fight thing with catching arrows & molly plays a guard with his scimitars & her just absolutely untouched it’s sort of a dance sort of a staged fight but like super dramatic. she’s sort of like a between act thing where there’s a story weaving through the circus where she stole something at the start & she’s running away doing like tumbles & jumping over the trained animals & hiding amongst the crowd
jester has her magic paint & she is searching for beau with her detective nott on the case they’re low key clowns? but part of the same cat & mouse hunt with beau. she paints herself a massive magnifying glass & like doors to knock on & nott like Busts down one of the doors w her crossbow drawn & beau is jumping up on stilts like she’s hiding in the rafters or smth it’s very funny she sneaks through the crowd like scuse me excuse me hey let me through pardon & jester & nott follow her & pull up like bouquets of flowers from peoples ears & nott is like WHERE ARE YOU HIDING HER
fjord is the ring master. he’s surprising, with his drawl & easy going manner. he isn’t flashy like a lot of ring masters can be. he tells the story of a young princess who was kept in a tower (beau) who longed to travel the world. who fell in with a dark crowd & shadows kind of cling to the walls & move in & he keeps at this low conversational kind of speech & it’s ominous & people get Nervous & he tells them about how this girl is tricked into stealing it & how a handful of wayward souls fall in together to defeat this great evil. & deep in the shadows the shadows kinda churn & bubble & then beau topples out & yasha follows her & she’s wearing one of the guard helmets jester & nott wear & there’s this tussle as she tries to bundle beau up but beau keeps getting out & finally she stuffs her into a bag & starts dragging her out & the crowd is in stitches bc Beau kinda just cuts her way out & they have a sort of dance too as they flirt & yasha grabs her & beau lets it happen & then kisses her cheek & theres pyro fireworks (caleb) & beau slips away now with a guards helmet too (comically too big for her head)
caleb plays an evil sorcerer who the bumbling clowns somehow defeat. he enjoys it & gets to blow like rings of fire & stuff & sort of gandalf esque illusions of monsters & dragons in the fire he gets lots of oohs & aahs
caduceus looks after & trains the animals & hes also there in case anything gets out of hand, hes good to calm people in a panic & help out if anyone gets hurt. he also has an act which is like the prop guy of jokes? like beau will hide behind him & walk around him to keep jester on the other side, or he’ll be Caleb’s evil henchman, or he’ll be a tree or smth & he literally just changes his hat & not a lot else
41 notes · View notes
Note
do u want angst because caleb going absolutely bonkers and immolating someone after they hurt jester and she witnesses the whole thing?
(I made the most delighted face when I read this prompt, thank you, Major Character Injury inside)
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 
For a former spy, a current spy, and the medley of skills the Nein have, they’re always getting their information wrong. Caleb barely manages to duck as a bolt of lightning flies past his head, the smell of burnt hair following. Fuck them, this woman wasn’t supposed to have backup. 
Next to him, Nott dashes out, taking aim as she runs, but the enemy human, a man taller than Fjord, and at least twice as large stand between Nott’s arrow and the woman they had been tasked with dispatching. The arrow slides off his armor, and Nott skitters back, but a few steps has her trapped in the man’s hands, scrambling. 
Caleb gets up again, but a giant lollypop flies behind the man’s head, connecting at the base of his skull. His eyes roll back into his head as he’s knocked down, Nott slipping from his grip and back into the shadows. Caleb looks over to where Jester is hiding, whispering in Infernal as she moves the lollypop. She gives him a wink before they hear a howl, and they turn their attention back to the woman. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 
The woman’s name is T’ssa, she’s a known assassin who operates on the Manajory Coast, and she’s been hired to kill Yussah. Obviously, Yussah didn’t take the threat seriously, but he did in turn ask the Nein to catch her and turn her over to the authorities. After all, many people knocking on the door makes him appear approachable, and if there is one thing Yussah isn’t, it’s approachable. He told them they would be able to keep whatever reward was being offered as her bounty. 
When they had originally scouted her out, she worked alone. So they set up a meeting where Fjord was going to hire her, but she appeared with two other people, stacked in armor and weapons. 
It fell apart in seconds. 
T’ssa stares at the man just felled by the lollypop, rage in her milky white eyes. “I’ll kill you all!” Her voice is distorted by magic, and Caleb realizes just a few seconds too late what she is. Her flesh turns to shreds and a werewolf takes her place, elongated claws scraping against the ground. Fjord and Yasha are nearest to her, and she takes a wide swipe at Fjord, knocking him back a few feet, blood on his chest. Yasha manages to parry the blow sent her way, but T’ssa leaps over her, landing in front of Beau, Jester and Caleb. 
Jester blinks up at the creature, eyes wide as she takes it in. Beau and Caleb both begin to move but the creature reaches for her, broken voice slipping past blood stained teeth. “You killed him.”
Jester grins, her hands shaking at her side. “Fuck yes, I did.”
The creature snarls, running her claws through Jester and Caleb feels his heart stop in his chest. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 
Behind him, he can hear Nott screaming, and Jester coughs, blood splattering the ground in front of her. Her hands wrap around her abdomen, but all Caleb can see is blood and shredded flesh. There’s a rush in his blood he hasn’t felt in a long time, and he clenches his teeth, moving towards the creature. 
Beau meets Caleb’s eyes, and she moves, up the wall, against a pillar, landing right between the creature and Jester. While Beau reaches down to move her, Caleb jumps up on the remains of the wall, his voice loud. “Hey! Abomination!”
The creature turns to him, and Beau grabs Jester, moving both of them out of the way. It looks like it might sweep at them both, but Caleb is already casting. Molasses smears across his fingers, and he watches the creature’s arm slow down. It growls, looking back at him, rage in its eyes. 
He’s essentially caught her, it won’t be too much for the rest of them to restrain her now that she’s been slowed. He can see Caduceus swarming the other member of T’ssa’s team, and the big man is still down, and their target is slowed. She bares her teeth to him, and Caleb stares at her, then back over to where Beau had landed with Jester, blood pouring from her wounds. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
He stares at the creature for a moment, and he walks a little closer. He can hear Nott calling his name, but he ignores her, taking a few more steps towards the beast, the fucking monster that ran her claws through Jester. The creature screams at him, and Caleb laughs back, components pressed together in his hands, and suddenly, she’s on fire.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 
He watches her burn, he has to. It’s his penance, the least he can do. He hears her scream, watches her try and escape the flames, but she’s still too slow. She howls, and screams, and curses his name, and he stands there and watches. Until she’s nothing, until she’s just hair and burnt bones. His hands shake when he shoves them into his pockets, turning around to leave, to get some air.
“Caleb wait-” Beau calls to him, and he looks over his shoulder. Beau says something, but he doesn’t hear it over the look on Jester’s face. Her eyes are barely open, but he can see the fucking fear in her eyes, and what little grip he has on his sanity is slipping. 
He heads for the door, into the air, into the darkness, where he can’t see the body. 
He hears her screaming anyways. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 
When he comes to, he’s on the beach. Somewhere. 
A couple glances tell him he’s not entirely sure where he is, but it’s okay. Honestly, he still isn’t ready to go back. His hands are still vibrating, and he shrugs out of his jacket, then his bandages, then his gloves. Why does everything he touch turn to ash, turn to smoke under his fingers. Caleb scrubs a hand over his face, exhaling a shuddering breath. 
Behind him, he hears movement, and he turns around, arms up, but he stops when he sees a little blue Tiefling’s head pop up from behind a bush. “It’s just me!” 
She’s never announced herself before, but then again, he’s not sure she’s ever seen him like that before. Unhinged…lack of control, poisoned, all of those things. He drops his arms, turning back towards the ocean. Jester ambles up next to him. She walks like she’s fine, but he can see how she’s curled into her side, just a little, and there’s a couple scabs on her face from earlier. They watch the waves for a moment, before he speaks, voice strained. “How did you…find me?”
Jester’s eyebrows furrow together, and she looks up at him. “I sent you a message, and you described it to me. Like…about an hour ago? You don’t remember that?”
He doesn’t, but he doesn’t need to tell her that. 
“Hey Caleb?”
“Ja?”
“What happened?” She asks, and he sighs, closing his eyes as he does. 
“It wasn’t supposed to be like that.” He murmurers, clenching and clenching his fists. “I know we weren’t supposed to kill her. I’m…sorry about that.”
“I really don’t care about the money, I want to know if you’re okay.”
No, I’m not okay. I’m never going to be okay. I’m seconds from falling apart like that at any moment. I need to go, I need to go, i need to go-
Whatever’s on his face, she shakes her head, and bats him, sort of gently, over his head. Caleb blinks, and Jester smiles at him, a little sad, but still bright. “I dunno what’s going on in your head, but you’re talking to me right now.”
“S-Sorry.”
“What happened?”
“I…I lost it, a little.” He tells her, running his hand across his face again. “I…I lost it. I’m…I’m sorry.”
Jester listens to him, resting her head against his shoulder as they stare out at the ocean. “You’ve got some shit you need to deal with, huh?”
“Ja, I do.”
“It does that sometimes, if you try and ignore it. It comes back up and it fucks you over and suddenly you’re doing shit you never wanted to, and…you don’t know how to stop it.”
Caleb nods, letting her lean against him. “It’s hard to remember where to stop, sometimes. It’s hard to remember where I am sometimes. It’s…”
Jester pushes past his arm, so she can lean against his side. He lets her, desperate for the grounding feeling of her body against his, and guilty for taking it. “You ran away.”
“I don’t…really remember doing that. But I’m sorry.”
“Beau said not to worry, that you’d be back, but…you didn’t look…like yourself.”
He shakes his head, glancing down at her. “I’m sure I didn’t.”
“Hey Caleb, did you kill her because of what she did to me?”
He stops breathing for a second, the question hitting him in the gut. He should’ve expected it honestly, he can’t believe he didn’t. “I…”
“Because I’m not mad. She…she really wanted me dead. I really hurt her, and…I saw what she looked like before she hit me, and she…she wanted me dead. I feel better, actually, knowing she’s dead.”
He doesn’t want her absolution, he doesn’t want to be forgiven for this, but the relief beats through his body with her words, and she turns to look up at him. “You don’t think I can handle the darkness, or the pain, or the horror of it all but…I can. So, when you’re ready to tell me that last little part of you that you’ve been keeping from me, I’m ready to hear it, okay? Just…you gotta give me the chance.”
Caleb nods, more to himself than anything. He carefully rests his arm around her waist, and she smiles. “I’m…still…I’m sorry it happened like that.”
“I think you were just being protective. That’s okay, I’m protective too.”
38 notes · View notes
procrastinista · 6 years
Text
Critical Role - episode 26
Um, don’t read if you’re not caught up...
HOLY SHIT.
That episode was bonkers. I loved it though (all freaking FIVE HOURS of it). But holy hell what a dramatic shift in tone. I figured out that something like this was going to happen given the vague spoilers I wound up reading, but I wasn’t completely sure and I didn’t know which character would be affected.
Is it awful that I was relieved it wasn’t Nott? I liked Molly a lot, but it seemed like an appropriately tragic ending for him. IDK if that makes sense, but I hope Taliesan isn’t too upset about it all. I am totally sure I’d be upset in the same position, but I would hope I’d be able to see what completely fantastic drama this whole situation made for. Then again, I’m the type that likes rolling up new characters constantly, so when I put myself in his shoes, I just think I’d be excited to get to play a new toon. We’ll see how he handles it this week, I guess. I will be attempting to watch it live, for once!
I have to give Matt a lot of credit. He could have taken an easy way out at any point, done some handwaving, and saved a character. But it wouldn’t really have been realistic that way, and we’d have been robbed of the campaign’s most emotional moment so far. The group is in dire straits right now, what with Jester, Fjord and Yasha all gone. I wonder if Keg will be back at all? I know some people in the YT comments were blaming Keg for everything, but I thought she was a great character and her player was committed to roleplaying honestly. 
I’m playing D&D myself tonight and I totally cannot wait. I doubt we’ll have anything as dramatic happen as all that, but still.
6 notes · View notes
piratekenway · 6 years
Link
They spend a couple of hours like this, Caleb posing questions and sometimes having to poke Molly into saying something, and Molly squeezing in as much as he can of his words before the fucking geas kicks back in and closes his throat up again. It’s somehow the best thing that’s happened to Molly in the past few months, and isn’t that the most fucked-up bit about this situation right now.
Considering how much of it is pretty fucked up already, that’s kind of an achievement.
He had tried to resist it, was the thing. The attempt had left him half-dead from the psychic backlash alone. Honestly, Molly’s pretty sure that’s the story for pretty much everything that’s happened to him in these past almost-seven months, as Caleb had so kindly told him when he asked how long it had been. His memory’s a scattered mess right now, but he’s got the important parts back, at least. Hopefully. Probably. Maybe.
Fuck, Molly’s sure he’s a mess too. Whatever, he has an excuse, he spent seven months brainwashed out of his mind, of course he isn’t currently at his best. And there’s still the magic that’s dug its claws into his head to worry about, especially, especially concerning Jester, and Caleb’s healer, and the risk this whole mess could carry for Jester. Caleb hadn’t said just how the woman who healed him had gone stark raving bonkers, but the idea of it happening to Jester is—terrifying, to say the least. Molly’s already feeling guilty and it hasn’t even happened yet, that’s how worried he is.
This shit’s left him such a mess, Moonweaver help him. He barely, if ever, feels guilty about anything.
Eventually Caleb runs out of questions, and Frumpkin gets bored enough to decide he’d much rather play with Molly’s much-abused tail than sit and receive scratchies. That’s when Caleb snaps Frumpkin back to his lap, and murmurs a couple of Zemnian words to his cat.
Molly opens his mouth to say something, but then the spell kicks back in, the headache swelling threateningly in the back of his head. He snaps his mouth shut, and sighs. His throat feels scratchy as hell right now, scraped raw from all that time spent chatting to Caleb about whatever popped into his head, and he should perhaps give it a rest. Then again, it’s been resting a lot lately.
2 notes · View notes
Note
Am I alone in thinking that the whole thing was a trap by the High Richter? It seems weird to me that those papers about Ulog's wife were out anywhere at all, even in a pile of papers. It's not like it just happened, so there was no need for those papers to be anywhere out like that. The HR probably knew that the KoR were on to her and wanted to get them caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
I hadn’t even thought about that. I would have to go back and listen more carefully about exactly where those papers were. I do think that it’s awfully convenient that she “forgot her gift.” I think she absolutely came home for some more nefarious reason. I guess it could be one of many things, including...
Your theory that perhaps this was all a trap/setup
She was somehow involved with the attack on the city
Some other nefarious thing entirely
Jack made a joke that I ended up actually thinking “whoa, that would be so crazy if true!” He laughingly said, “what if that wasn’t actually the High Richter either and it was just another person using a disguising spell to get in like Jester did.” He wasn’t serious, but... 
The spell would obviously fade when she died, but considering the fact that she burned up in a big fireball, she might be burned past the point of recognition, so they wouldn’t be able to tell if it was her one way or the other. There could be many reasons that the people attacking the city might want something from the High Richter’s house. Or that anyone who was completely unconnected to the attack might want something.
The details she knew about Ulog’s wife seemed vague. I don’t remember if she said anything about it before he brought it up. If not, it wouldn’t be that hard to bluff something up based on what Ulog said. If she did, it would have to be someone who knew the situation.
And now my brain is going a million miles a minute thinking about Horace and Dalton and their argument and their wanting to not be around “for deniability” and the possibility that it was actually one of them using magic to pose as the High Richter for some reason and that’s what they were arguing about.
I mean, I doubt ANY of this is true, but it would be so off the wall bonkers if it was.
6 notes · View notes
anneedmonds · 4 years
Text
Life Update: The Lullaby Master
It’s life update time again, and rather than bore you with all of the tantrums and CIA-level negotiation we’ve been having to do around here, with our three and a four year old, I thought we could talk about bedtime routines and (more specifically) some of the crazy things I’ve done to get the kids to bed over the years.
Because the other day I suddenly realised that I’d almost forgotten the first little baby bedtime routines. The ones that we started right in the beginning. Those halcyon days when you could just plonk them in the cot and they couldn’t get out. Bliss! Now the routines are more like challenges on Crystal Maze; “can YOU get your three year old boy into his racing car bed without cracking a dent into one of your shins and saying F*CK F*CK B*GGER at the top of your voice whilst managing to give him a drink of fresh water and not allow it to spill which would mean changing his duvet? Work it out, release the crystal and I’ll stand here outside the bedroom door tootling away on my flute.”
I’m not saying that the baby days were easier – the crackling of the baby monitor, half an hour after you thought they were asleep! The feeling of utter weariness at having your three hour window of “me time” interrupted again! – it’s just that bedtimes now are so much more demanding. I’m like a court jester crossed with a minimum security prison officer. I love it and treasure the moments, because I know that in the blink of an eye they’ll be teens and I’ll be barred from even entering their rooms, but my God is bedtime intense!
I’ve nearly always done my daughter’s bedtime, mainly because my son, who is eighteen months younger, never used to go to sleep until he had breastfed from me for hours on end, and so when he was about ten months old Mr AMR started to give him a bottle to make things easier. We then inevitably ended up splitting off into our separate teams in the evening – one child each, and each of us with our own little bedtime quirks and (probably inadvisable) habits.
We’re very lucky in that – mostly – both of us are around for bedtime and so we’ve kept up this “girls’ team / boys’ team” sort of split. Trying to put two young children to bed on your own is chaotic and soul-destroying in equal measures, like herding cats, and I absolutely doff my cap to anyone who does it on a regular basis. Or all the time.
But let’s rewind back to the first proper bedtime era that’s still reasonably fresh in my memory: we can call it the Robot Head Cinema Era. I had bought the kids an Early Learning Centre plastic robot that was large enough to house a moon buggy (toy, not real one) and spacemen figurines. I worked out that if I opened up the doors on its head, the resulting space was exactly the right width for gripping my iPhone horizontally.
And so I used to fire up iPlayer, select a trippy programme called In The Night Garden (if you don’t know what this is then I recommend a viewing for research purposes, but only if you’re not taking mind-altering drugs. It would be enough to send you permanently bonkers) and we would watch baby TV from inside a plastic robot’s cranium.
Total madness, really. I would sit there hunched over, watching along with her (I have no idea why we did this on the world’s smallest screen when we had a huge telly directly beneath us, and a comfy sofa, and a roaring fire, etc etc) and I would feel my neck begin to slowly fuse to my shoulders and my lower back go into spasm, but I was always too tired to shift position.
Then there was the “rap song nursery rhyme” phase. I have no idea why I started this, and it’s the sort of thing that really you should take to your grave, not write about to hundreds of thousands of people, but anyway: I used to do this very bad “beat box” thing and then rap out a version of Little Miss Muffet.
Don’t even ask me to do a rendition, it is never happening and so it’s pointless going there. (I can tell you though that after the “whey” I did do a very funky “hey, hey-hey-hey!” I also did a vague form of twerking when the spider “sat down beside her”.)
The rap rhymes started off a new phase, what is now known as “doing the lullaby”, and we’re still going strong a couple of years down the line. Ah, that’s sweet! you might think, especially as my daughter is going to be five in the summer. But no. It’s not sweet. It’s a magnificent feat of poetic improvisation, that’s what it is. Because not only do I have to make up a new song ON THE SPOT every night, the song also has to rhyme and it also has to be relevant to the chapter of the book we’ve just read.
So, for example, we did a great lullaby about George’s Marvellous Medicine and the horrid grandma, although admittedly I did completely crib the tune (and some of the words) from the CBeebies Christmas panto. (Sniff-Sniff, Delicious Children!)
I sang about Grandma’s puckered mouth looking like a dog’s bottom and her face being as hairy as a mole, except that I had to make “bottom” rhyme with “mole” so ended up saying “bottomhole”, which isn’t ideal.
But it’s actually a very good brain workout, making up rhyming songs with no notice. Firstly you have to think of a tune (usually I nick one from an advert or popular song du jour) and then you have to – completely on the hoof mind! – come up with some lyrics.
And it’s not like Baby 1 is a particularly easy customer – she frowns at anything resembling a half-rhyme and definitely picks up on nonsense words that I’ve just thrown in because I’ve gone into panic mode.
George stirred his pot all day and night
Grandma was really in for a fright! 
He stirred it with his wooden spoon 
And even put in some of the moon…
“Mummy what? How did he put in some of the moon? Are you sure he did that?”
Anyway, it’s fun and I wanted to write it down because one day she won’t want the lullaby, she’ll say “ugh, you’re so embarrassing, get OUT OF MY ROOM!” and my heart hurts to think of that so I want proof that it happened.
Mind you, some nights I am totally not up for composing what amounts to an eighth of a low-budget West End musical on the spot. Especially if the chapter we’ve read, the chapter that must (it’s the rules) provide the inspiration and bulk of the content, doesn’t quite lend itself to a lullaby.
Last night I read the bit in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory where Grandpa Jo uses his last pennies to buy a chocolate bar for Charlie, in the vain hope that there might be a golden ticket inside. It’s called Chapter 10: The Family Begins To Starve.
Not so jolly.
“Do a lullaby about the chapter, Mummy!”
“Why don’t we do yesterday’s chapter, about Charlie’s walk to school and the smell of the chocolate? Sniff-Sniff, Delicious Chocolate?”
“No, it has to be about the old people in the bed and the cabbage soup and the snow. And don’t sing it in the Oompa Loompa tune again!”
Last night’s lullaby tested my artistic talents to the max, I can tell you. I’m the flipping lullaby master. I know you’re desperate to hear some of these lullabies, but again: not going to happen. Satisfy yourselves with the knowledge that I sang about cabbage soup to the tune of a Les Mis hit and managed to rhyme “cabbage” with “baggage”. That has to be enough.
The current nighttime routine doesn’t end with the lullaby however; I then go into Baby 2’s room, negotiate his floor, which should be called “The Torture Garden” because you can’t go two steps without spearing your foot on the upright plastic ladder of a toy fire engine, or the spines of a toy Stegosaurus, and I have to sing him a lullaby.
He only likes two tunes: the first is Soldier Soldier (won’t you marry me with your musket fife and drum? Oh no sweet maid I cannot marry you for I have no [insert item of clothing] to put on) 
and the second is Five Little Ducks (went swimming one day, over the hills and far away. Mummy duck said “quack quack quack” but only four little ducks came swimming back).
With both songs, I have to think of more and more outlandish versions to keep him satisfied. In terms of the soldier’s clothing, we have moved on from actual items (pants, socks, a gaberdine) to abstract ideas (sadness, time, reluctance); last night the solider had “no happiness to put on” and had to get himself a “loud thunder” from the grandfather’s chest.
In the “five ducks” song, the ducks have become dinosaurs. Which would be find, except that they don’t quack, which totally bollocks up my rhyming pattern. I can’t work like this. The pressure is too immense. Especially now that “five little dinosaurs” have become “five big stegosauruses” and they stomp instead of swim, roar instead of quack. I should be paid for this level of superhuman lullaby effort.
Anyway, I’m sure this is boring you to absolute tears, so I leave you with the comforting fact that the bedtime routine, including fetching dolly from two floors down, then coming back up and going back down to fetch Calpol, then coming back up and going back down to find Batman, Bumblebee transformer and Heat Wave transformer, then going to the bathroom to collect fresh water – cold tap run for forty-five seconds to ensure suitably icy temperature – and then supervising various toilet trips and so on, consumes approximately 2,300kcal, which means that the many chocolate-based “evening snacks” I subsequently devour are completely A-OK and justified.
What’s your bedtime routine? Kids, no kids, dogs, no dogs; I need to know any weird, over-indulging stuff you do. If it involves a robot’s head, all the better.
The post Life Update: The Lullaby Master appeared first on A Model Recommends.
©2020 " Life Update: The Lullaby Master published first on https://medium.com/@SkinAlley
0 notes