moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

"So- hold on." Nova makes the 'time out' sign with her hands. "Is Lathander your brother? Your ex?"

Nova

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

3! For the micro stories meme!!!

(I) trusted (you)

„I trusted you.“

Silence. Only the quiet sound of slow waves on the hull of the ship, and muffled footsteps above.

“I trusted you, and you did this.”

Still no answer. The pained awkwardness is so heavy in the air it feels like a god is sitting on it.

“I am very disappointed in you. And angry. What did I tell you again and again is going to happen if you tried something like this?”

Incomprehensible muttering.

“Speak up, I didn’t hear you.”

“It’s gonna bleed a whole lot and hurt like a bitch.”

“And what happened?”

Silence again.

“Hm?”

“It bled a lot and hurt like a bitch.”

“So why, by Lathander, did you not only do it once, not twice, but three times since I let you go?”

In a way she is truly surprised that the young man in front of her still has enough blood in him to flush like that. His following grumbling does not make her mood any better.

“I could not care less about your boyfriend’s dick, yours is my problem and you’ve made it significantly worse.” The young man is visibly shrinking under narrowed eyes. She does not feel bad in the slightest. That’s what you get if you don’t follow the healer’s orders.

“But-!”

“No but. You fucked up. I told you very specifically not to do fuck anything, but you did, and now your dick is bleeding. Which means that obviously I can’t trust you and you’re now under permanent supervision in here until we get that fixed.” The young sailor is now nearly crying, looking up at her with tear filled eyes and holding his groin. “Don’t look at me like that, you did that to yourself.” Her eyes narrow even further. “And if I find you up when I come back I’ll tie you to the bed and your hands above your head. Understood?”

A small whimper and nod is her answer.

She makes sure to look him in the eyes for a few seconds before turning around leaving her infirmary to properly scold the idiot who had enabled him in the first place. Right outside the door is the older sailor who had found the dumbass and brought him here. He’s smirking quietly as she comes out the door.

“Some heavy bedside manners that was, eh doc?” A strand of her light hair floats in her face and she brushes it away with scorn. It must have gotten loose when she was running all around the med bay trying to stop her patient from bleeding out.

“He can have bedside manners when he learns how to listen. And you for that matter…” She notices just which one of the sailors he is and glares at him. “You should have come in for a check-up 2 days ago.” The man freezes under her glare. After a few seconds she lets up and sighs. “You’re lucky I have my hands full at the moment. Come back tomorrow. But you know what’s gonna happen if you don’t.” He smiles nervously at her, his hands raised and inching backwards away from her.

“Yeah yeah, sure doc. Wouldn’t wanna piss off the Ocean Charm.” She watches him leave with a raised eyebrow, until he turns and quickly walks away.

She sighs again, dragging her hands over face, wiping away the sweat that has accumulated in the last very stressful minutes. Really, sometimes she feels like the only one on board with a survival instinct.

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Number 46 for your dnd character?

Shimmer

The house is worryingly quiet. Not that it hadn’t be in the last few years, but then it had been only her and Poppet. No house with a child should be this quiet.

A pang of pain shot through her heart as she remembered her own child, now at bottom of the ocean she had loved so much. Perhaps she should have stopped her daughter. Perhaps she should have pressured the girl to say yes to the nice boy next door. Perhaps she would have even loved him after a while.

But no. How could she have done that when she’d seen her daughter’s longing stare out at the ocean from the very first moment she’d seen it, when she’d watched her 10 year old girl design ships at her little desk, when the only wish she’d ever expressed again was a vacation at the sea. It had broken her heart to watch her little girl leave for a life at sea, but her daughter had been so happy, so radiant with boundless excitement, that there had been no choice but to be happy with her.

And now her heart was broken again and her daughter forever gone. But as much as she might have liked to wallow in her grief, Nonna had a granddaughter to take care of now.

But how to? How do you console a child who has watched her whole world die? She tried to, gave the child everything she could need, kept her well-fed, tucked her into bed at night, sang her the same songs she’d sung for the girls’s mother, but of course that wasn’t enough. And the truth was, though it shamed her to her core, the girl unnerved her. Her unnatural floating hair, her skin and hair colours, the fact that she was even still alive. She loved her granddaughter, dearly, and would forever be grateful for her survival, but the implications of what she was unsettled her.

Nonna only hoped the girl didn’t notice it.

Pots clanged quietly as she put them on the counter. Out with the ingredients and containers, and finally a stool, just the right height for a child to climb on. Perhaps a little cooking would help distract her little granddaughter. And who knew, maybe a little practice would afford her a good reason to stay on land later.

“Dune! Darling, would you come here please?” She was careful to keep her voice gentle and kind. Soft little taps on the wooden floor could be heard, and not long after a blue, little head popped around the corner.

“Would you like to help me make dinner?” Nonna smiled at her granddaughter, noting with some hope the colour splotches on her cheeks. Even if the girl still didn’t smile, maybe she was finally starting to play a bit.

For a few seconds there was no reaction. Then the child looked over to the pots she had put out, before turning back and nodding, if not enthusiastically, then at least decisively.

And so they worked for a while. Though Nonna had never thought it good to raise the girl on a ship, even she had to admit that her granddaughter was very impressive at following directions and even anticipating them. The meal was hardly complicated, but still it did her heart good to know that her granddaughter hadn’t inherited her mother’s dislike for cooking.

“Fill this up with water, won’t you.” She handed the girl a large pot and turned back to cutting the vegetables, expecting to hear the quiet pitter-patter of feet again out to the well right in front of the door.

Instead, there was a splash, a clank, and before she could turn back around to see what had happened, her back was suddenly sopping wet with cold water, her blouse sticking to her skin uncomfortably. And behind her stood Dune with a horrified face and drenched from head to toe, the pot was upside down on the ground in a giant puddle.

“Wh- What?” And how else was she supposed to react to this? And then Dune started crying. Sobs shook her whole little body as she stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen. And though Nonna still had no idea what possibly could have happened she fell onto her knees and pulled the small girl on her lap, holding her close while desperately fighting off her own confusion. (And possibly the small voice in her head that told her she knew what had happened. Why there was suddenly water all over her floor. And that she should be scared of it.)

“I- I- mommy- I just-“Nonna almost flinched at the small, watery voice. The girl talked so rarely, and the bawling made her almost unintelligible.

“I know, baby, I know.”

“I just wanted to fill it! Like I- like I always did. But I couldn’t- I couldn’t-“ Nonna only pressed her closer as her words devolved into sobs again. Holding her granddaughter tightly, sitting in a pool of water that shimmered with their reflections, getting paint smeared all over her clothes, and trying to ignore the reminder that she had no idea how to handle this child and her legacy.

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Oooh, breeze for the micro stories?

„Ey, i‘ you wanna stay on board, grab on!” The gruff voice carries over the loud noises of cannons, heavy footsteps and other shouts and screams. Even though the deck is slick, and the ship is shaking under the enemy fire, the response is instant from most sailors. From one second to the next, almost everyone has grabbed hold of the railing, a mast, or has dived below deck. Only one young lad is left just standing around looking confused. Old Blankley cursed under his breath, clinging to a rail himself. Always the damn rookies that didn’ wanna believe it.

“Oy, laddie, come over!” The youngster hesitantly looks over to him, and in any other situation Blankley would have grinned back through his tooth gaps at the frightened look.

The ship rocks again, nearly throwing the lad over, which apparently makes him rethink his decision on where it would be safest, and he stumbles over to the older sailor, nearly falling over the railing as more tremors shake the boat and wood cracks.

Old Blankley only spares him a glance to make sure he really held on, and rather kept his eyes on the bright blue colour spot that has just darted past. He grips the rail tighter. The breath through his teethless spots whistles quietly. Only to turn into a shout as the lad next to him moves to leave again.

“Are you insane, laddie?!”

“But she-!” The boy stays rooted but looks to the front of the ship, where there stands the one person still without hold.

“Yeah that’s the point, boy! Just hold tight!” And it’s good he does.

No sooner than the young idiot has grabbed onto the railing again, the screaming starts. One loud, angry shout as the wind picks up, the sky darkens, and drops begin to fall. More and more as the scream grows louder and louder, somehow still over shouting the torrent now raining from above, the deafening storm and the soon following thunder.

The figure to the front stands tall, head to the sky, face twisted with the power concentrating around her. Light green and blue hair whips around her head, her turquoise skin is darked with her anger, muscles tighten and swell with exertion beneath her clothes. Lightning flashes. Something bursts violently. The scream reaches its crescendo.

And then it stops. The voice cuts off, wind slows, the rain relents. The boat settles again, and no more canons follow. The woman takes a deep breath. For a few seconds no one else moves.

The Old Blankley untangles himself from his own death grip around the railing, and everyone else follows suit. And suddenly everything is busy again, sailors dashing from one end to the other, repairing damages and bringing the ship back to course. Almost as if the battle had never happened.

Old Blankley smiled, even as he flexed his stiff fingers. The crew really had acclimated well. Well, except for the new meat. The lad looks absolutely horrified and is still clinging desperately to the wood. Oh well, he’d learn it too.

“You can let go now, laddie.” The still looks like he doesn’t believe him. He grins at him, tongue through tooth gap. He stretches again, the whole ordeal may not have lasted more than two minutes, but two minutes of holding onto a wooden beam with all his power is still quite a bit for an old man, thank you very much.

No sooner has a groan slipped through his mouth though, a wave of calm warmth washes over him, washing the pain away. He glances back and throws a smile at the genasi woman rushing past him. She responds with one of her own, but is already gone in the next moment. Always in a hurry that one. Not that he is complaining.

“That- was that- the healer?” The lad looks so dumbfounded Old Blankley does laugh at him this time.

“Ay, laddie! That she is. Likes a stiff breeze that one.” His grin turns devious. “I hope you’ve already been to your check-up.” The boy blanches and rushes away on shuddering legs. Old Blankely laughs again, turning away to help with the cleaning.

Truly they are lucky to have picked up their Ocean Charm. Since taking her aboard they have lost no cargo to the pirates and have had significantly less injuries due to stupidities.

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Dune: I did not sign up for this!

Dune:...

Dune: Actually nevermind, I signed up for exactly this I just didn't expect to get it.

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

What is your dad’s weird hyperfixation??? They all have one

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

"It's been eight hours about since you took your dagger assisted nap."

-Andaralin to Dune

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

ASFGJDSGFIUGSEFLUGSJAFGKAGD

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Luna & Archer in the back of Zoya's car: MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!

Dune: We have food at home.

Zoya: pulls into the McDonald's drivethrough

Luna & Archer: YAYYYYYY!

Zoya: orders one black coffee and leaves

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Luna: Archer, check this shit. My new gang tattoo. It's a ghost carrying a cake. It means you gotta get paid in life AND the afterlife

Archer: Oh, like the cake represents 'dough' or something?

Luna, mouth full of cake: ... What?

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Hello, dear! You've been visited by the random character question fairy! :D ~☆

Who does your character look up to? If your character had to have a specific role model, who would it be? 

Marvin looks up to his dad. End of, that’s one of his big role models. Like, objectively, he recognizes that the retired adventurer is a little off the walls, but he managed to raise his son as best he could and bring in money, fresh off the loss of his wife and youngest. He admires that kind of strentgh. 

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Luna: "You don't need to wear makeup blbllblblb"

Luna: I don't need to wipe my ass but it is, like, a preference of mine

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Zoya: I don't want to look 'pretty'. I want to look otherworldly and vaguely threatening.

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Luna: petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday

Archer: Wednesay

Luna: Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Dune: i went through an entire character arc during quarantine

Dune: i became more evil if you’re curious

Archer: We're still in quarantine, don't worry, there's time for a redemption arc still!

Dune: i’m going to get worse on purpose

[moloch-has-fallen-over-laughing]

Archer: Goodnight moon.

Archer: Goodnight tree.

Archer: Goodnight ghosts that only I can see.