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babybluesquid · 7 months

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Session 18, The Valgernard Affair

Our Players this Week:

Hog 112, they/them, Weapon Thaumaturge, skirmisher warforged, the leader of the inquisitives agency and founding member, tends toward practicality and following a command structure.

Vestige, they/them, Bones Oracle, warforged placed into a human body, a healer and the agency’s fleshborn face, remains on the periphery with an individualistic streak.

Strategy, it/its, Empiricist Investigator, officer warforged, an old model who’s seen much action and uses the tactics they learned back during the war now under Sharn.

Samanta, she/they, Swashbuckler Fencer, skirmisher warforged, a spotter during the war who turned to spying for one of Sharn’s criminal families before joining the inquisitives agency.

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Hog stares at the load of psicrystals, feeling off balance as if the wood cords in their legs have been severed. They collect themselves, remarking, “there’s no way Hendrick is gonna do something good with these things.” Strategy, having found its way to Hog’s side, nods in agreement, “maybe the Boromars will use them for mind control.” “I don’t think we can do this job,” Hog adds, overwhelmed, “it’s too much. We oughta dump these in the lava pits and pretend we never intervened.”

“Hendrick will know.” Strategy says, “It’s only a matter of time before news of this attack spreads. Besides, this is our best shot at the bodyguard.” “And I suppose if we don’t go to Hendrick, he’ll put in a bad word with his buddy Malrut.” “Agreed. Getting on his bad side is a very bad move. I think instead Jack-in-Irons should be our only target. The attacks are only getting worse.” Calmed by Strategy’s cool analysis, Hog replies: “I think you may be right. I regret getting us into this situation in the first place, but it seems handing them over to Hendrick is the quickest way to get this over and done with.” “We could hold some crystals back,” Strategy offers, “I do not think Hendrick knows how much there is.” “But if he does, he has great reason to think we stole them. Let’s turn them over and face the consequences. If we become known as Boromar allies, well, I suppose there are worse reputations to have.”

With the agreement made, Strategy sets to repairing the cart’s damage. Then it’s off to Smoky Towers in Middle Menthis, the prescribed drop-off point. The building in question looks as shady as could be expected of a Boromar den. Outside, a khoravar woman with a mace and daggers waits. Recognizing her as Hendrick’s contact, Hog lets her approach the cart and check the goods. At her confirmation that it’s all there, the rest of the Boromar goons come and unload. One hands Hog a large ruby, calling it a tip and a token of friendship from their employer. As Hog stares at it, they mutter, “Our employer, huh? I’m gonna have to have a talk with Hendrick.”

The trek back to Deathsgate is haunted by anxiety. However, it is otherwise uneventful. Presently, Hog finds themselves back at the gator’s clubhouse. It’s damn near empty, but Hendrick’s right where he said he’d be. The man smiles, bit cruelly, at Hog’s approach. “So, you’re back. And I’ve got word on the wind that we got our stuff. I assume you’d want to schedule a meeting right away with Malrut.” “You’d be right,” Hog replies. “Well, circumstances are in your favor. Malrut is heading down to the Bazaar on behalf of his master tomorrow. You’ll be along when I meet him. I think you’ll find his account of events,” Hendrick pauses, “illuminating.” “That’s what we’re hoping for.” “It’s been real great doing business with you,” the man continues, “I’d like to keep in contact. And besides, I still owe ya a favor.” He scribbles something out on a page, then hands it over to Hog. “This is the mailing address for my crew.”

Remembering something, Hog asks, “Hey, what about your employer? That elusive wizard?” Hendrick takes on a disinterested affect, “He’s out right now, but I’ll see if I can get you in touch.” “So we can’t talk right now?” “No.” “Can we at least know his name?” At that, Hendrick flips to serious, “I’ve been told not to, and I intend to keep my word. Farewell inquisitives. I wish you Olladra’s own luck on your case.” “Thanks,” Hog states flatly. “Appreciate it,” Strategy adds to be more diplomatic. Hendrick shoos them off.

On the way back to the agency, Shadowblack splits off to search for his few remaining friends among the Blades. Samanta travels to the Bazaar to purchase some poisons. The rest of the sleuths rest and repair at the HF&A. Cloak is there when they return and delivers their report on the new Blades hideout. It’s a major operation, with many forged coming and going. Some of them are arriving with no possessions and strange accents. It looks like a base and an armory for these new arrivals, and the Blades’ supply of weapons seems nearly bottomless. There’s even an artificer installing armblades. Hog asks Cloak if they feel safe staking out the hideout. “No,” the goblin replies, and then shrugs, “Pay’s good.” With that, they disappear again into the streets of the cogs.

While Vestige and Strategy catch up on casework, Hog heads down to the Red Hammer to gather intelligence. It’s normally Samanta’s domain, but somebody has to keep a finger on the pulse. It’s the middle of a factory shift and the place is almost empty, except for two old faces: Dandy and Shot are standing at the bar. The names of Cyran cities and artists drift across the silent space. Hog quietly approaches, and Shot nods and greets them. “Ho, Shot, how goes your investigation?” “I seem to have hit a dead end,” the archer replies, “It’s been difficult since the arsonists moved out of the lower city.” “Have you heard of the Valgernard case?” Hog asks. “Yes, but I haven’t got any leads.” “Neither have we,” says Hog, “but if we do find something, can I find you here?” “I’m normally in Highwalls,” Shot admits, “but I came down here for the company.” “Okay. If we find anything, I’ll look for you there.” Shot nods in reply. “Say,” Hog continues, “if you find anything, stop by the agency.” “I will,” says Shot.

Next, they ask the pair if either has heard anything new about Hook. Dandy explains that nobody has seen him in a few days - the Fists have been spending more time training in the abandoned tunnels, and sending out representatives to buy weapons. Returning to the agency, Hog mentions this to Strategy. “I think that after meeting with Malrut, we should check on the Fists,” it advises. “Assuming we don’t immediately face Jack-in-Irons,” Hog responds.

The next day, the sleuths take the long walk across town to Dura, to meet Malrut in the Bazaar. The bodyguard is sitting with Hendrick in a crowded beergarden, in a lonely patch of sun on the edge of the district. He stands out among the common people of Sharn, with dark red skin, a huge stature, and a pair of curled goat horns. His origin is written all over him - this one was born of Khyber.

Hog cautiously introduces the group. “I hope you’re ready to get down to business,” Malrut replies, “without the pleasantries.” They sit down, and Hog gets started. “We’re aware of the recent fire at your employer’s residence and we were hoping to be allowed to investigate the scene.” “I would have to ask my employer, but I think you want to hear what I saw on the day of the fire. When the fire started, I ran to the workshop and caught the arsonist in the act. This being ran away with a bag of my master’s possessions. I was unable to catch up with it.” “Being, it…” Strategy observes, “You believe the culprit was not a person?” “No, it was not,” says Malrut, “It only had the appearance of a man, but anyone who sees it move would know differently. It had a third, long arm which it hid beneath its cloak, and its legs bent in two places. I lost it when it leapt from a bridge, and crawled down the side of a tower like a spider.” “Was it flesh?” Hog asks, hesitating, “Or did it look like a forged?” “Flesh, to be sure, though its hand glittered like steel. You ought to crush the legs of that creeping thing… That is all I remember of the creature.” Hog looks at Strategy, who asks Malrut, “Did you find any pieces of obsidian at the scene?” “Yes, one,” says Malrut, “We gave it to the Blackened Book.” “The Blackened Book… who else has been investigating?” Hog asks. “Medani,” replies Malrut, leaning forwards, “and I must warn you, I do not think my master will allow you to investigate, unless you can offer something Medani and the watch cannot.”

Hog thinks for a second before replying, “Your master’s stolen property, does he want it back?” Malrut softens. “Yes. His devices took years to make and are not replicable. The telepathic engine, he calls it.” The guard becomes dreamy as he carries on, as if he were staring through the towers at the Ring of Siberys above. “It will transmit messages using the mind-magic of Sarlona. He says it will change the world…” “We were hoping you would put in a good word for us-” Strategy begins. “Of course!” Malrut interrupts, “What message shall I relay?” Hog takes a business card out of their bag and hands it to the tiefling. “Tell Mister Valgernard that we’re interested in helping him with his missing materials. If he’s dubious of us, tell him we were in the papers. There was an incident with a werewolf in Middle Dura that you may have heard of.” “I have. Few Southerners can boast of such a thing. I will tell my master.”

Hendrick grunts. “Alright, if you don’t have any other questions, I’d like to get back to having a day with my friend before plunging myself and my team into mortal danger from which we will only narrowly escape.” “How can you be sure it won’t be an easy escape?” Samanta jokes. “Seems to be the way of things,” Hendrick replies. Strategy speaks to Malrut: “How long will it take your master to respond?” “Not long. He has canceled his engagements since the arson.” The sleuths rise and make tense goodbyes, before heading back to Blackbones.

At the door to the office, Hog is blocked by Gentle. They look up at the larger forged, who immediately begins speaking their mind. “I’d prefer if we’re not bringing people back here and killing them. Khyberlurk was as wicked as they come, but it still saddens me to see them snuffed out like that.” Hog sighs, tapping their arm, “Gentle. You’re not seeing this right. If I’d let Khyberlurk go they could’ve targeted someone else. They could’ve targeted you.” For a moment, Gentle mulls it over, “true. I am worried this agency is becoming a platoon against Aggregate. I’d thought I left the war behind.”

“Well,” Hog replies, “that was up to Aggregate. Believe me, I want to return to normal detective work as much as you.” “True enough. I guess we just have to see this through to the end.” “I like that,” Hog remarks, “to the end.” Gentle suddenly moves in to embrace Hog in a full hug. Surprised, they stand rigidly still until their employee releases them sheepishly. Hog just nods at Gentle as they step aside and let them enter their office.

Vestige is already there, awaiting Hog’s arrival. “What do you make of the new Blades in the city?” They ask. “You mean the ones Cloak told us about?” “Yeah, those ones. Fresh from the Mournland.” “It sounds dangerous,” Hog replies, “it sounds like an invasion.” “Or perhaps an opportunity,” Vestige suggests. “For what?” “Well, Aggregate’s been here for some time and I’m think that new Blades wouldn’t exactly be loyal to him. We might be able to convince some to come over to our side, especially once they’re told what Aggregate’s been up to here.”

Confused, Hog asks: “Didn’t Aggregate come from the Mournland?” “Yes.” “I just, I think we’d have more luck with good Brelish forged. You know, the sort of folk who want what’s best for their country and they joined the Blades because they saw what the foundry owners and the incompetence of the Watch has done to this place.” “That may be,” Vestige admits, “but I dunno. I’m thinking- I’m hoping that the Blades from the Mournland hold the ideals of our Lord. You know?”

“Our Lord…” Hog mutters, “who is this Lord anyways?” “The Lord of Blades.” “Sure, but who is he?” “I suppose you didn’t hear during the latter days of the war.” “No,” Hog admits, “nobody ever spoke to me about the Blades.” “I never met the Lord, of course, but when I was traveling around Cyre I heard the Machine Manifesto from some of the forged on the front.” “Is he the one who wrote the manifesto?” “Yeah.” “Sounds like you have a lot of respect for this Lord.” “I do,” Vestige says, “he’s the one who’s demanding better treatment for our people. That’s why I’m so angry with Aggregate for corrupting his message and turning it into an invasion of Sharn.” Vestige ponders, and then speaks again: “We need to get in contact with these new arrivals. If we can tell them the truth, they’ll turn on Aggregate.” “What makes you think that? If they’re really foreigners, what could they be here for other than an invasion?” “Recruitment, perhaps.” “Who do you think these foreign Blades are?” Hog asks. “I think that they’re probably Cyran forged.” “And they’ve been living in the Mournland since the Day.” “Yes,” Vestige replies, “I would’ve stayed in the Mournland had my circumstances been different.” “Yes. Hm. Well, if you think you can turn some of them back to the light, I’m not going to stop you.”

The thought hangs in the still air before Vestige says, “I think I could try, but given my situation they might not be inclined to listen to me.” “You never know,” Hog offers, “you are a true forged like the rest of them, and Shadowblack is your friend. That counts for something. Do you think you and Shadowblack are of one mind on this?” “I believe so. Shadowblack wishes to return to the Mournland and inform the Lord of what Aggregate’s been doing.” “What makes you think the Lord will intervene? Was it not the Lord who sent Aggregate to this city?” Vestige’s reply has a hard edge. “We don’t know whether that’s the case, actually. I told Shadowblack it was too risky to go and give such a report now.” “Why do you think so?” “If Aggregate has indeed taken over a group of the Blades,” Vestige explains, “it’s likely that he has friends on the way back to the Mournland.” “And if Shadowblack gets intercepted…” Hog offers. “Then he’ll be killed.” “And then we haven’t got a chance at fixing the Blades in Sharn.”

“Yep. For now it seems that we’re on our own, until we can deal with Aggregate.” “Indeed, but you heard what Cloak said. There were dozens of warforged in that warehouse, and that was just one base. I wonder, if we wanna take down Aggregate, we’ll need to start turning some of the Blades first. Maybe it can even be done without any bloodshed. Things like that have happened before, like in Thrane.” “I think if we could appeal to their ideals, we’d be able to turn them,” Vestige says, “our disadvantage right now is that Aggregate controls the flow of information to the Blades. I don’t know what Shadowblack’s friends have been doing, exactly, but it seems they’ve been staying quiet.” “Aggregate’s control is too tight for them to speak up?” “Seems so.” “But you think we can crack it?”

“I think if we can show them that Shadowblack is no traitor, then they would realize that Aggregate is the villain here.” “How do we show them that?” Hog asks, then answers their own question, “we make him into a hero, I s’pose. You know, if he was the one who killed Jack-in-Irons, that’d certainly make him a hero.” “And if he returned the bodies-” “That would be even better.” “We should try to facilitate this,” Vestige says, “I think that we can outmaneuver Aggregate. He may be smart but there’s only one of him, and if he’s relying on deception, well, we just have to expose the lies.” “You’re right. Just have to expose the lies… that’s easier said than done, but perhaps we should look a little more into this crime ring they’ve been running. We still haven’t got any hard proof.”

“I have that hat now, perhaps I could do a little digging on the Daask side of things,” Vestige suggests. “It sounds like a risky operation, but maybe it’s less of a risk than getting into another head to head with Daask.” “I think I’ll be able to handle myself out there, and I could bring Samanta along for backup.”

The conversation is interrupted by a weak knock at the agency’s front door.

Vestige opens the door to discover a short, middle aged human man, well-dressed with glamourweave and fancy Aundarian shoes. Coughing in the Cogs air. He collects himself, “hello, fine inquisitives. Upon seeing the message that my loyal companion relayed to me, I was moved and resolves to visit you myself but-” he pauses to cough some more- “the sulfuric condition of the air in the Cogs has seemed to upset me. May I come inside?”

Hog welcomes the guy in, noting that the air inside is much the same as outside. “Master Valgernard, thank you for coming.” “Uh, Lord,” Eliot ir’Valgernard corrects, then immediately gets to business, speaking about the missing research that he would like the sleuths to recover for him. See, he is missing a prototype Telepathic Engine, near complete, and rambles on concerning its difficult construction and the overwhelming loss of the stolen components and device.

Strategy immediately asks if the arsonist could construct the device using the stolen pieces, and ir’Valgernard dismisses the notion out of hand. Strategy presses, “we know Jack-in-Irons is a skilled artificer. They might have supernatural inspiration to draw from.” “Truly this is an abominable villain then, and they can only be up to wickedness with the components they have seized from me.” “Jack-in-Irons uses magics from the Daelkyr, and their followers are Daelkyr cultists. I believe they want to use this research into psicrystals to achieve some devastating effect here in Sharn. Would your device be able to broadcast distressing psionic messages?” Eliot confirms that it could, with some more power and recalibration.

What follows is additional questioning from Hog, trying to determine how dangerous this thing it. They don’t like it, that ir’Valgernard created such a thing that could be used this way. Vestige listens in silence, having much a similar judgment.

The man does reveal that a docent to control the device has been located in Xen’drik, but it will be some time. Strategy asks, “would it be possible to use something else in place of the docent? Something less ethical and conventional?” “Well,” ir’Valgernard replies slowly, “if one were to take an animate warforged and bond them physically to the device with magic flowing directly to their mind it would be functional. However it would be a horrible crime, it would destroy them utterly with thoughts that are not their own flowing through them, driving them to insanity.”

“How do you know this?!” Vestige demands angrily. “I have been in the study of how the warforged came to think and their connection to the docents. The basic components and how they create the ability to think in these devices are the same. That’s why the docents interface so well with the warforged,” ir’Valgernard explains. As he does, Vestige becomes even angrier, coldly remarking back, “warforged. Are not. Devices.” He’s surprised, backtracking a bit, “w-why of course, they’re alive with livewood and capable of things no artificers understand.”

Strategy moves the conversation back to the question of the device, and Eliot is eager to move back to discussing logistical matters. He even offers his aid in the form of money and connections so he can recover his priceless device.

More logistical discussion follows, mainly that a broadcasting would require massive amounts of energy and be wildly expensive under conventional means. Strategy reveals that the Daelkyr is of fire and madness, revealing the charged obsidian stone and asking if they could be used to power the device. All Eliot can do is speculate, he doesn’t understand the magics of the Lords of Madness, but it may be possible. Considering the danger, ir’Valgernard offers his loyal guard, Malrut, to assist the sleuths in retrieving the device. Strategy asks to examine the scene of the arson and theft, and Eliot ir’Valgernard grants it readily.

Lastly, Eliot grants Strategy a device like a crystal lens with dragonshards studding it, “I have created this as a measuring device of the Telepathic Engine’s operation. It allows you to have a visual representation of the power and property of the magical and psionic energies that the device emits. It is a compound lens of psicrystal and siberys dragonshard. Although it does greatly reduce the normal functions of the eye, as the background magical emissions of Sharn are massive. Though it can be tuned to focus on one specific device such as the one I have created. It will require some work to retune it to the expected output of the larger device.” Hog questions what will happen if the magic of the device is altered, and Eliot replies that then the focuser would not be able to pick it out from the rest of Sharn’s magic. Without tuning, it would be possible, but hard to pick it out.

Strategy theorizes that either the cultists will cover the entirety of Sharn, or they will do maximal damage in a small area to cripple the city. Eliot suggests that perhaps the psionic power of the warp step could be used to broadcast the signal to anywhere, from anywhere. Hog asks what that even means, and ir’Valgernard briefly explains how it can be used to transport the mind and body through space using Dal Quor, which cannot actually be reached. Hog says that for practical reasons, they can’t consider it as a possibility. An adversary that can broadcast to anywhere from anywhere would be impossible to find. Eliot says that the villains would be unlikely to figure out the warp step in any case.

So, the first theory is accepted. The cultists are likely going to broadcast over the whole of the city from Middle Menthis. Further, their base is likely far from the center of their criminal activity, just like their base in Fallen.

Finally, Hog asks for ir’Valgernard’s account of the attack. He says, “I was unable to see much. When I heard my workshop was on fire, I flew into a panic and hurried to try to save my work. When I entered the room, I came into contact with the fire and was thrown into a strange vision… a bright white flash filled my eyes for quite some time and I saw a vast titan, crowned in a material I cannot begin to describe. All aflame, this vision overtook me. I glanced the figure of a being of pilfering my components, another arm extending from his shoulder.” “Thank you for your time, Lord Valgernard. We’ll come up to your residence as soon as possible,” Hog offers.

——————

Notables:

Hendrick, he/him, a mercenary adventurer. Skilled at getting his crew out of trouble, and other people into it.

Malrut, he/him, a warrior from the Carrion Tribes. He tried to escape Khyber and wound up in Sharn instead.

Eliot ir’Valgernard, he/him, an Aundairian noble with a penchant for psionics and dreams of a bright future.

#pf2e #pathfinder campaign #pathfinder story #my post #my writing #hf&a llc #eberron #ttrpg story #ttrpg recap #session 18 #dnd campaign #vestige #hog 112 #strategy #samanta #warforged

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im-not-samantha-im-samanta · 6 months

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Reader // Seeds of Doubt // Husk

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A few words from author: Hello there everyone, I'm back again! ^^

This time I'm feeling a bit better, and I'm presenting you a new fanfic format I'm trying out: Scenarios!

It's a bit different from what and how I usually write but I hope you'll still like it. ^^"

Type: Scenario

Scenario summary: You are Alastor's s/o, but he can sometimes make insensitive comments, so his dearest friend Husker reassures you about Alastor's feelings towards you,

Settings: Fully platonic

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Swear words used, light mention of alcohol consumption, typical things one can expect with Husk and Alastor, Reader doubts Alastor's love for them, Husk talks shit about Alastor for a bit but he still comforts reader, Alastor is a little shit and plants doubt into Reader's head for his own amusement, that should be all!

Sidenote: I included reader having doubts because of Alastor being aroace because it made sense in the scenario but I truly hope it didn't offend anyone - I'm ace and possibly on the aro spectrum too, so I really didn't mean to misrepresent the spectrums or anything!! I meant well I swear >-<,

Sidenote: Reader is written as gender neutral, but if the reader description leans more towards feminine sense it's purely unintentional and I apologize!

Sidenote: The editing on phone will be the end of me one day,

That should be all,

Hope you'll enjoy, <3

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Slouched at the bar, a drink is in your hand,

You're lost in thought,

It's not often you're found like this,

On the contrary, actually,

It's rare for you to sit down and hope to get lost in your drink to avoid your thoughts,

But sometimes Alastor can be rather insensitive,

He can say and do things that hurt and that plant little seeds of doubt in your head,

And whether that'd be deliberately or accidentally is up for a debate,

This time it was about him being aromantic asexual,

He made a comment that suggested him being with you just for pure entertainment, not for affection or anything else because he, as he phrased it: "doesn't feel the need for it after all",

And that didn't feel nice,

Not at all,

Again, he could be just messing with you,

Or maybe he didn't mean for his words to come off that way,

But still,

You worried there might be some truth to his words,

And again, Alastor being on the aroace spectrum didn't mean he felt nothing towards you,

It didn't mean he couldn't feel affection for you or anything similar,

And it definitely didn't mean you two couldn't be in a relationship!

That's why you tried to drink your worries away,

Because you knew they were just that, just worries,

Just thoughts you should pay no attention to,

However, you'd be lying if you said his orientation didn't play into your doubts after his playful but not so kind words,

And maybe that was his goal,

To have you all tense and on your feet, thoughts running wild,

But it still didn't make you feel any better,

And so, you just downed your drink, trying to ease up,

"One more... please," you told Husk who was behind the bar, watching your anxiety eat away at you,

"Geez, the fuck's wrong with you? You never order more than one," Husk commented, though he didn't sound like he actually cared to hear you out,

However, it was obvious he wasn't too indifferent towards you,

He remembered you weren't really a drinker, after all, which was nice to know,

"Nothing much..." you told him with a sigh, "Just overthinking...",

"Yeah, you look the part, you look like a fucking mess" Husk replied, borderline on insulting,

But you've learnt to not take it to heart,

This was just the Husk fashion of talking to people,

Silence then enveloped the two of you, and Husk poured you another glass,

Neither of you spoke until your thoughts got way too bad to ignore,

And you asked Husk a question, desperate to ease your worries,

Even if you knew that Husk was the least person you should go to with such question,

"Do you think Alastor keeps me around just for amusement...?" you asked softly,

And Husk looked a little surprised, before a scowl found its way onto his face again,

"You're seriously asking that just now after dating that piece of shit for months?" he scoffed,

And you looked down,

Husk frowned then, and gave a long sigh,

"Damn, you really are a case..." he muttered before sighing more and rubbing his face,

"What'd that asshole do now?" he questioned, an eyebrow raised,

And while he didn't sound all that much like he cared, you still took the chance to get things off your chest,

"He just... hinted I might be nothing more than just a source of amusement for him," you explain, gaze fixated on your drink,

And once again, Husk sighed, muttering: "Of course that piece of shit would do that, even to his own partner,",

Husk then exhaled through his nose before pinching the bridge of it and speaking again,

"Alright, listen, I hate that son of a bitch more than anything," he started,

"and it's not my fucking job to save his ass and relationship," he paused,

"but I'm gonna do him a favour and cut him some slack,",

Then he sighed and continued: "He does care for you... I mean, I can't say I'm 100% sure, after all that guy's all about messing with people and their emotions,",

"but... from what I can tell, you mean a lot to him..." Husk told you, looking you in the eyes, looking sincere,

"And while I don't think that asshole has anything close to a heart," he sighed lowly, "I guess he wouldn't go as far as to pretend to love someone just for a few laughs...",

"especially not to someone who's proven to be a nice person and a good friend," he told you, shaking his head a little before grabbing the first glass you emptied and beginning washing it,

And doing so, he continued speaking: "He's got some decency... at least I guess he does,",

"But honestly, you should talk to him about this," Husk advised, looking at you seriously, "that's a part of relationships, talking bout feelings, setting boundaries and shit...",

"He's a fucked up, messed up in the head sadist, but I'm sure if you'll be honest with him and tell him how his comments affect you, he'll change his ways..." Husk told you before pausing and thinking,

Then he thought out loud: "Yeah, he'll probably find another way of fucking with ya head, but it'll definitely be less harmful and damaging than what's he's doing now,",

"Of course, I can be wrong about him and this whole thing, I wouldn't be surprised," Husk stated, lifting his hands in surrender as if wanting to decline any responsibility from his advices,

"but... judging by how he acts n all, he does like you in some way... even if just in his own twisted way," he eventually told you then shrugged and again focused on the glass in his hand,

And you were left with lips slightly parted because you've not expected Husk to say anything of what he's just told you,

You were actually prepared for a rant about how much he hates Alastor and how much stupid you are for dating him,

But not this,

You were not prepared for this,

And you were quite pleasantly surprised,

Because hearing reassurance coming from Husk's mouth was a nearly nonexistent occurrence,

And that alone assured you that his words were genuine and meant something,

Even if everything was said in typical Husk fashion,

And, for the first time since sitting down at the bar, you smiled,

You smiled and gazed at Husk with appreciation,

"Thanks, Husk, I needed that," you told him lowly, making him scoff,

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome or whatever, just don't pull any hugging shit on me or some other mushy bullshit," he scoffed, rolling his eyes,

Then he sighed,

"Now get your ass off that barstool and go talk to that fucken asshole," he ushered you, making a shoo motion with his clawed hand,

And you smiled again, knowing that Husk meant well despite acting rather rude and aloof,

But deciding to heed Husker's words, you nodded and got up from your seat,

"Yeah, yeah, you're right, I should go talk to him," you nodded with a playful smile at Husk's attitude,

"I'll be going now, and you can pour the rest of my drink down the drain," you told him before heading out of the room,

"And thanks again!" you called before rounding the corner and disappearing from sight,

And Husk rolled his eyes again,

But deep down he was glad he managed to comfort you,

Despite you not knowing it, you were quite a good influence on Alastor,

And Husker truly hoped you would continue to cling to the Radio demon's arm even if Lucifer himself put obstacles in the way,

Or well... even if Alastor was the one putting obstacles in the way...

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#frenklinesamuelsworks #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husker imagines #hazbin hotel husker x reader #platonic husker x reader #platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel scenario #hazbin hotel scenarios #husker x reader #Alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader platonic #x platonic!reader #hurt/comfort #and just so you know husk downed the drink you didnt finish instead of pouring it down the drain #im not samantha im samanta works

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