"It falls upon our shoulders to carry on the legacy that was left to us. I would do anything to protect that. I will bear that burden no matter the weight." Indie Post Campaign 1 (Perc'ahlia) de Rolo son OC RP blog of the Critical Role Universe.
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@cloakhoard :
Vax can remember what he lets himself about the first few weeks in Syngorn. Knowing that his father wouldn’t be happy with a single thing he did, knowing that all his sister ever looked for was approval. It was something they’d never get, they were half-elves and something Syldor would’ve gladly forgotten about if it had been completely up to him.
He understood the frustration and the need to be better. Vax’ildan had picked the art up for himself, changing it in his mind to exclude his father all together. The only difference now is that it only made him hate his father and his instructor. It was a learning process, one they had more than enough time to accomplish. He didn’t want to be his father. He didn’t want to be as harsh as his own instructor had been. Oliver was a de Rolo, after all. His sister’s son.
He notes the positioning, a small smile on his face as the rogue moves to correct him just a bit before feeling the dagger return to his belt and placing it back in Oliver’s hand. “I see your mother’s been teaching you as well. Certainly much better than the first time I threw a dagger. Try again.”
Oliver’s face was in his hand then pushed up through his black hair. He was so frustrated. It had been his idea after all to learn the ways of combat but it just wasn’t sticking like he had hoped. He could study for hours and still not be able to perform it physically.
The same had happened with a bow. He lacked any natural affinity it seemed. And while everyone was so kind, trying to help him he couldn’t help but feel unworthy.
A deep sigh left him as he reclaimed his cool. Much too soon to be broken up about it.
With his Uncle’s guidance perhaps not all was lost for him. Immediately, much like his Mother, there were obvious and easy things to take care of first. Like posture.
Always pain in posture.
“She’s been…trying.” He responded. “I haven’t taken much to the bow it seems. That too has been ending in failure for me.” His voice dipped just a little bit into shame. As if testing the sensation he felt when the idea slipped into his mind.
Taking the dagger into his hand again he balanced it once more in his grip, fingers gripping it just tight enough to hold it but ready to release at a moment’s notice. Small changes to his posture shifted his weight different than he had set it before. He supposed that was the point and thought better than to shift slightly back to what he was at before.
Inhale.
Exhale.
His body turned as he swung his arm releasing the dagger to cut through the air.
It still flew off sideways and this time it even fell short of the target. But he was able to notice the shift was closer to the mark. “Huh.” His back straightened and his arms crossed in heavy thought. “Perhaps I should try a wider swing before I throw it?”
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@tempestvoice:
Keyleth frowned again as she thought. Oliver’s questions were hard, and she felt bad for not having all the answers for him. Why was it so important to know why some trees were grumpy and some weren’t, anyway?
“Either of those are very possible, I think. I don’t know…I guess trees could sleep, if they wanted to. Though, I mean…they don’t go anywhere, and they make their own food. Maybe they’re just sleepy by nature, and having Druids like me talking to them disrupts their sleepiness, and they get annoyed. It could be any number of things, really.”
A swift and confident nod came from the boy with her response; seemingly he was satisfied with that answer. Calling back to his own experiences, surely being woken up was the reason for grumpy trees all along. It just made sense. And he felt like he somehow contributed to the realization and answer to these questions. “Do you think it would be possible for me to talk to them one day? Could you teach me how?”
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@cynicbelief :
“Uh-huh. Yeah I do.”
Silence followed in the most awkward of ways as Oliver thought it rude to stare but wasn’t quite sure what else to look at. And when the older man looked back it left him feeling...unnerved.
The de Rolo cleared his throat loudly beginning to wonder what the point of the interaction was, to begin with. He knew the stories and heard about the man before him yet found he was unable to relate or approach the man on any level.
“Yeah...well, it was nice speaking with you Mr. Kashaw. A good talk I... hope we can do it again soon.”
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@daggersandmusic:
– “SHITE!”
Kaylie had to jump back to avoid the wrath of the swinging door, stumbling until she caught herself on the kitchen table behind her. As the fear subsided and her heart climbed back down from the top of her throat, she squinted at the much taller frame of a boy she realized she recognized, and breathed a deep sigh of annoyed relief.
Oliver? It had been months since she’d seen him, let alone the rest of the family. School had taken up a lot of her time, and as good as learning was for her, she longed for that taste of kinship she had with them, with her father, hells, even with Oli. This…this wasn’t the way to do it though.
– “Bahamet’s ballsack, kid. You scared the everlovin’ piss out of me. What in the hells are you doin’ here?”
Oliver had spent painstaking time making sure he nailed down the formalities of greetings and meetings and the like but all that was absent from his mind now like he was starting over at square one for Mannerism. He didn’t even flinch when she muttered curses. Right now he was so much more focused on the bigger picture.
That and he was beside himself with not knowing what to do. Kaylie was his elder and he had respected her despite the rougher parts of her personality. In a lot of ways, he looked up to her. The fact that she was still around was a good thing… he hoped. At least he wasn’t alone in this.
“Kaylie! Have you spoken to your father? Have you seen him?” His mind raced with his mouth forming thoughts and questions faster than he could physically repeat. “Something horrible- Whitestone is- My parents are missing and I haven’t been able to reach anyone else!”
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@daggersandmusic :
The room was eerily quiet; the subtle sound of silence was something Kaylie was still unused to after a year of safety in her lyceum haven. Wasn’t it supposed to help one study better? It was a little backwards that the hum of a busy city were a much more relaxing, comfortable place for her to read than her own dorm. Maybe she should have asked for a roommate to liven things up…
He pondering was thankfully interrupted suddenly by the pounding urgent fists on her door. With a wrinkled brow, she set the textbook aside and slid from her bed.
– “’Ello?”
Oliver’s boots clacked down the hall, his quick pace echoed through the halls. He was near out of breath at this point; he’d been practically running all the way here. His panic had been clear to see and even those that did question him were quickly pushed to the side either with his title or…very begrudgingly…coin.
His mother would kill him if she knew but he would throw himself at her feet and beg for forgiveness once he knew she was safe. But right now all he could focus on was seeking help.
The young man came to a stop at the door he was had been directed to and adjusted his posture; a forced habit was hard to kick once established. Taking in a large exhale the part-elf smashed his hand against the door. He just barely waited for a reply before he flung the door open. “Miss Kaylie!”
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@cynicbelief
“You have...interesting eyes.”
#here u go#here it is#the thing tumblr ate twice#look how amazing#whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooaaaa#cynicbelief
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@tempestvoice :
“Well…” Keyleth thought about that question. Were there good and bad trees? “I don’t think so. Not really. Just like some people are just…grumpy, you know? Some trees are just grumpy, I guess.” She shrugged, ducking outside and holding the door for her unexpected companion.
“Stay close,” she warned offhandedly. “Like I said, it’s dark out. Anyway, I–I don’t know if the trees have friends. I never thought to ask–maybe I should, sometime. I would think they communicate with the plants around them…huh. Maybe they do get bored. I’ll have to ask.”
“Okay!” The young boy said with a near skip over the threshold of the grand door. A slight fear of the dark was enough to make sure he wouldn’t stray far from the Druid. But even without that, he didn’t think he’d get this far so he wouldn’t dare jeopardize what he was getting away with.
A smile crawled on the boy’s face when his questions and theorizing was met with, in his eyes, serious consideration. “Maybe they need a nap! Oh or... do they sleep the whole time and that’s why they could be grumpy too. Maybe they wake up too early.”
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tempestvoice:
Keyleth grinned wide. Oh, she understood Oliver’s curiosity quite well. No, she wouldn’t snitch–but she also wouldn’t take the blame if Percy or Vex confronted her about it later.
“I can, in a way.” She shrugged, still smiling. “Obviously, plants can’t talk the way you or I can. But I know a spell…it gives us both a way to communicate, y’know? I can ask questions, and they can give me answers. Give me a sense of what’s around us. Give warnings about any, uh…bad guys, that might be around, you know?”
Keyleth kept walking, expecting Oliver to keep up, but not making it difficult for him to do so.
“They are generally nice. I…well, I’ve met a couple trees who…seemed a bit grumpy.” Keyleth shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure it was their fault, though? Also they weren’t on the Material Plane…”
The more broad strokes of her explanation were completely lost upon the child. What did it mean to not be on the material plane? Plants talked differently? The small boy was still hung up on the whole idea they could even talk. That and some were angry? That meant they had feelings. The only thing he could do was relate it to him as his world was still so small and naïve.
There was a lot to unpack in Oliver’s mind. “So there are good trees and some bad trees?” The boy mused following in the druid’s footsteps. “It must be boring to just be stuck in one place all the time. Maybe those mean trees just needed someone to talk to them. Do they have friends you think?”
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cont. // AUNT PIKE @xclericus
The small child laughed then shifting to his very tippy toes, seeming proud of his own growth. “Now I can go on adventures like you! I’m just as big!” Heaving out his chest with a big inhale and placing his hands on his hips he tried his best to look at large and tough as he possibly could.
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Cont. // @everfought
Oliver’s eyes watch the form, taking note of the way his Uncle’s arm swings and the moment his hands release the small blade sending it twirling through the air with a certain fluid grace that he thought only existed in the stories he was told.
The boy’s head turned to follow the arc all the way to the mark. Dead on. Not off at all. If this had been a real encounter the enemy would surely be dead. And then in the blink of an eye, the dagger was gone. Oliver’s eyes shone with amazement. He read the stories and they had mentions of such feats but it was a completely different thing to see it happen in front of your eyes.
“Whoa...” Was all he could make out as his Uncle handed the blade back to him. “That’s amazing.” And now it was his turn to be ‘amazing’. If his skill during his Mother’s archery lessons were anything to go on, however, it wouldn’t be so ‘amazing’.
Centering his body to the target he lifted his arm in the air, holding tight to the handle of the blade. Just as his Mother told him, ‘in any situation that called for distance eye the target and make sure you’re lined up to strike true’. At least, he hoped the same idea would apply to dagger tossing.
Taking in one deep breath and then exhaling it all away he threw his body forward swinging his arm and releasing the dagger— only for it to skew way off to the side completely missing the wooden enemy entirely and skidding across the dirt.
The disappointment and embarrassment were immediate.
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cont. // @arrowbear
Oliver’s eyes lifted to his sweet mother then sideways to the distant target set up in the field. His mother’s comforting words did little to diminish the sting he felt as his eyes took in the arrows that littered the ground at almost every place around the target but the target.
The young boy grasped his own smaller bow tightly in his hands and his shoulders slumped. “I missed every single shot. Did you when you first started?”
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// I crave next-gen vox machina and/or mentoring of the new generation interactions
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//If OCs are less your speed but you’re still kind of wanting to interact with me, I do have a Percy blog as well so you’re free to interact with me through there.
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headcanon #2
When words fail and blades are the only response available, Oliver won’t back down from a fight if it’s necessary. Perhaps not a fighter at heart, his desire to learn the way of the blade allowed him to at the very least be competent with his rapier. His preferred method of combat is fast and quick, turning his foes into pincushions before the fight can even really begin.
But the boy’s lack of experience leaves him at a high disadvantage in any fight against someone worth their salt. Paired with his rather small frame any situation where his staying power is tested, is a situation that could turn very dire at any moments notice for him.
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tempestvoice:
Keyleth snorted quietly. There was no doubting who his parents were, at all. “You did, did you?” She grinned. “I must not have been paying attention–I missed that part. Though I guess you’re right about the walk, seeing as I was about to do the same thing. It’s dark, though. And I don’t want to get in trouble with your parents.”
Still, she winked and let Oliver walk with her, if he wanted. “Curious about what?”
The small boy’s head bowed with a small nod. “I did, I swear!” while his voice came somewhat earnestly (even if it did go up a notch with him knowing he wasn’t on the complete right side of things), his face held a smile of victory. The woman’s own grin put him at ease enough to allow it. Enough to believe he wouldn’t be turned over and given a talking to.
Dark locks upon his head jostled as he glanced at the surroundings, actually taking note of just how dark it was already. Perhaps that realization is what caused him to speed up and keep close, following strictly in her footfall. (Not that he would ever admit to the dark unnerving him of course)
“Can you.. can you really talk to trees?” His question burned with sincere mysticism and curiosity. “What are they like? Are they bored all day? Do they wish they could walk around?” He stopped himself after that rapid-fire remembering that he was told it was ill-mannered to overwhelm another like that and he’d already received more stern talks on that subject to last a lifetime. But the idea had sent him in such a spiral of amazement that he couldn’t help at least one more.
“Are they nice?”
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headcanon #1
Oliver grew up with tales of Vox Machina, ever the story lover he lived for those tales and thinks the world of his parents and family. However, the way it transfers into his adolescence is a sense of inferiority. While not even he may fully understand it he takes it upon himself to try and live up to a certain standard he finds becoming of someone of his status. It is the reason why he took it upon himself to learn the ways of combat and sharpen his etiquette past what would be expected of him. Oliver wants to feel worthy of his family’s history and lives under the heavy shadow.
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