#; tealeaf takes pictures

[sankttealeaf]

If I found a way to stay with you tonight It would only make me late for a date I can't escape

[missmillenniumbug]

Fearne's chaos brood really living up to their names.

From left to right: Mollymauk, Annie, Fearne (the Queen), Orym and Dorian.

[dent-de-leon]

went back to relisten to some of Taliesin's fireside chat and. I heard that last part he said about Robbie possibly playing Kingsley this time and it's so good:

Taliesin: "Even just in who [Robbie] is, off camera, there's a lot of flair. I don't think he even necessarily knows how much flair he has, but. There is flair, and delight, I could absolutely see him bringing that...it's the same thing that all of Molly, Lucien, and Kingsley all kinda share is, a bit of that showmanship of various kinds. and I think he brings a bit of that Errol Flynn showmanship. And it would--it would not take much to explain to him...the notion of the pirate Kingsley's delight of being loved, and feared, and mysterious--and everything that he could kinda bring to that. It's a...it's a good time."

King loves being loved!! He likes people thinking of Tealeaf the Plank King as also being kinda scary and mysterious!! He's full of delight and still so roguishly charming and has a lot of flair!! Once again thinking of Pirate King Kingsley and picturing Molly as the Duke, it feels so very similar to me:

[randoimago]

This is agoraphobia Anon from a decent chunk of time ago, idk if you remember. Life has its ups and downs but I think I’m doing a lot better! In celebration of the can I have some headcannons for Molly, Caleb, Yasha and Jester reacting to the reader taking them somewhere on a date that involves navigating crowds? Reader is still nervous obviously but makes it through without panicking.

Agoraphobic S/O Taking Them on Date

Fandom: Critical Role

Character(s): Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Yasha Nydoorin

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): I do remember! I'm glad you're doing better!! Life is wild and it's nice to have a bit of respite from it. So I hope you enjoy these headcanons!!

Caleb

You told him you wanted to take him on a date and he agreed. He noticed you looked excited, yet nervous, but he didn't say anything as he trusted you and didn't want you to be more nervous.

When you began leading him into busier streets while holding his hand, he stayed silent. He wanted to speak up and make sure you're alright, but you looked determined. He didn't want you to lose your nerve when you're doing so well.

Caleb's face lit up when you took him to a bookstore that just opened. It wasn't the most crowded, but there were still a good bit of people wanting to see the newly-opened establishment. He noticed you seeming more nervous with all the people around and he gave your conjoined hands a light squeeze.

"Thank you for this," he'd say as he moves you to a section of the bookstore that is just the two of you. Despite the nerves, you manage a smile and he gave a bright one back. The idea that you did all of this for him. That you faced your fear for him. When you both are back in privacy, he'll happily tell you how much he loves you.

Jester

Jester had grabbed a newspaper for fun and to draw dicks and circle people's names that she thought are silly. She let out a pleased gasp as she read a part of it. "There's a new art museum opening today!"

She was definitely going to visit and promised she'd tell you all about it so you could experience it too in a different way. Instead you looked at her with a nervous smile stating, "Let's go."

Jester constantly peeked over at your expression as she swung your joined hands while you two walked to where the museum is. She filled the air with excited chattering in hopes the noise could help you focus on her and not the fact that you're outside and heading to a place that's likely to be really crowded.

"You know, we can just stay home and I can paint you some pretty pictures," she pipes up as she doesn't want you forcing yourself. But you just look at her without fear in your eyes. Nerves yes, but not an ounce of fear. "I want to do this with you." The brightest smile just grows on her lips as she goes to hug you.

Molly

He continues to stare at you as you hold his hand and walk with him somewhere. You wanted to take him out and didn't tell him where. Molly is definitely curious, but he also is staring to see how you're fairing considering your phobia.

"Nice day out," he'd say as if he actually cared about the weather. He doesn't, but it does cause your focus to shift slightly and he can see the nerves but you give a smile as you state that the weather is perfect for whatever you have planned.

Molly hears the excited chattering and all the different noises before he sees what your plans are. You bring him to a stop and give him a small, "Ta da." and he looks behind you with some surprise as it looks like a carnival came to town.

"Carnivals are kind of overrated," he jokes but it is his way of giving you an out if you need to walk away. This looks like a lot, but you just continue giving him a determined look. Nerves are still on your face, but it's evident you want to do this. He gives a lazy smile at that, "Lead the way, love."

Yasha

You're on a walk with her, taking her to some date you had prepared. She is happy that you're taking her out, but also sending glares to anyone that gets too close. Yasha sees you're having a good day and doesn't want some rando ruining that.

Yasha lets out a small gasp as you take her to a flower shop that has newly opened. There's so many different colors and plants and she immediately wants to take a piece of each for her book.

"There's going to be a lot of people," she states when she focuses back to you. You just give a nervous smile and shake your head. "I can't back out of a date." Yasha gives a smile as she moves to kiss your forehead.

"I love you," she tells you as she holds your hand and leads you inside the crowded flower shop. You can bet she's looking for a lovely bouquet to give you.

[fruitzbat]

HOME TO ROOST, the final installment of the Devil & the Deep Blue Sea trilogy, is now live! Click above to read the eleventh chapter!

One fateful night nearly one year prior, Kingsley Tealeaf escaped captivity in the Hespet Archipelago and vowed to leave the world he left in his wake changed. Having made his name known as one to be feared, Captain Tealeaf has taken his faithful crew northward and turned his sights towards Darktow. ‘Scores to settle’ does not even begin to cover it. This is war — and all that it entails. As Kingsley reaches the end of the labyrinth and as more players show their hands and faces, the only thing that is certain is that nothing is guaranteed.

It’s Kingsley’s turn to take up the Nein’s mantle of being a hero that no one has heard of. The Revelry’s throne is his for the taking — provided that someone else doesn’t get there first.

Author’s Note: our next chapter marks the end of Act I. Closing/home renovation and doctoral study have....not gone as planned for me over the past month, so there may or may not be a hiatus as I focus on getting those things in order. We'll have a clearer picture by then, most likely.

Chapter XI: Lucien outsmarts Hatemonger and an archdemon alike. Thanks to the Clays, Kingsley’s not quite done yet. A triumphant return to Darktow, and sharp words are exchanged between King and Chickenfoot. Yet another long-awaited conversation is had, and a decision is made at last.

[rosewinterborn]

9 Characters Tag

Tagged by @synobun whom i dearly hope i haven't offended with my quentin coldwater takes 🥲

My list won't be as compact because ✨️mobile✨️ and it took me a bit to untangle "character i like" from "character i associate myself with" so in no particular order:

Juno Steel (The Psnumbra Podcast)

Art by @acadieum and @hemaris respectively (two of my fave penumbra artists)

-baby's first nonbinary character

-grumpy martian private eye with so much baggage you can see it from the other end of the solar system

-he's a snarky bitch and i love him so much

-i should not have imprinted on him bc he's a terrible role model

-he's my current tumblr icon and has been since like. 2019 i think. Time flies when everything is on fire

Feyre Archeron (A Court of Thorns and Roses)

-one of my comfort reads

-the most i have vibed with a depiction of depression (and the ensuing crawl back toward the light)

-i don't want to say "she's just like me fr!" but i do feel a certain degree of kinship toward her and her character arc

Mollymauk Tealeaf (Critical Role Campaign 2)

-i want his gender

-tarot cards

-enthusiasm for tacky extravagance and general hedonism

-snarky asshole

Alanna of Trebond (Song of the Lioness)

-baby's first lady knight

-irrevocably rewired my brain in middle school

-i aspire to this level of spite and stubbornness

Keyleth of the Air Ashari (Critical Role Campaign 1)

-i relate very hard to her awkwardness, general good nature, and desire to keep the peace. She is powerful and insecure and earnest and i think she desperately needs a hug

-she's probably the closest on this list to me irl

Orym of the Air Ashari (Critical Role Campaign 3)

-there is something in the air (ashari) that makes these people relatable to me

-with orym i think its the endless sense of responsibility and the knowledge that you're not the main character, combined with the painstaking desire to do unquestionable good even when its not really possible

-also, depending on the art, gender

Kaladin Stormblessed (The Stormlight Archive)

-more responsibility, more stubbornness, more depression (guys i think i might have some problems)

-somewhat widely (afaik) headcanoned to be asexual which is always fun for me

-if i ever get a tattoo there's a high likelihood that it'll be the First Ideal

Link (Legend of Zelda)

-i want his gender also

-thats probably all there is here, idk that he has a lot of personality (probably on purpose) but legend of zelda" twilight princess is one of the like. Five video games I've gotten super into in my life

(Hang on i have more but I'm out of pictures)

[captainsparklefingers]

I have so many thoughts about Kingsley Tealeaf.

I want to know the specifics of how Kingsley became the new Plank King so badly.

We know that the last one got the title after challenging and killing the previous Plank King, but is that always how it goes? Or is killing the last king just the easiest way to do it? And (if the wiki is correct), Kingsley is only the third Plank King. Ever. So, maybe there's no precedent for anything beyond death and battle.

He's certainly a capable individual. He's a good fighter, quick on his feet, clever, cunning. He's got good weapons even before getting Zehir's sword, and he's got a better grasp on what he can and can't/shouldn't do with his blood magic. Certainly better than Molly did. That's the Lucien in him.

But he's also unconventional. Killing the last guy? Probably pretty easy, even if he is a big ole goliath who's definitely out of King's weight class. But if you kill him...well, you can't make him pay for threatening to kill Jester, can you? Nobody gets away with that sort of thing.

So why not find a way to humiliate him instead?

I like stories about people winning in the face of impossible or unlikely odds by doing something unconventional. I like tricksters. Kingsley, for all that he isn't Molly or Lucien, is still both of them. He's still showy, just in a different way. He still snarks and lies, he's trying to walk a different path than either of the lives who came before him.

What would Molly do? What would Lucien do?

Molly, I think, would bullshit his way into being the Plank King. He'd come up with a story or something, spread it so everyone believes it. He takes down the reputation of the last guy before even having to swing a sword. I'm picturing a whisper campaign against the current Plank King, convincing people he's turned against them and their best interests, and using Darktow against him. And when he's gone, all Molly would need to do is just take the empty throne.

Lucien would fight him. I think it would likely be a one on one thing, intense and violent, and while it would eventually end in his victory, it would be hard fought. Could he bullshit his way to the top too? Absolutely. But I don't think he'd want to, here, because why waste the effort when you can just kill the last guy?

So with that in mind...and with the knowledge that the Plank King has banned his family from Darktow, and that he's explicitly threatened Jester's life...what would Kingsley do?

I think it would be a little of column a, a little of column b. Integrate himself into Darktow, learn all he can about how everything works there, and find a weakness to exploit that way. Is there dissatisfaction or dislike that could be magnified? Does the current Plank King have any particular vices or weaknesses? That sort of thing.

And... I'm torn about what would happen next. Part of me thinks that King would win the title, not by fighting, but by gambling with increasingly high odds, until the Plank King bets his position. Would he cheat to win? Rig the game? I'm not sure.

The other part of me thinks there would be a duel. One on one, another hard fought challenge...but it doesn't end with King killing the Plank King. He defeats him, forces him to yield, humiliates and undermines his authority in front of the Revelry, and takes the crown without killing.

Both feel like they'd be possible. I'm not sure what one feels more like Kingsley. I'm not sure he would either, though. He wants to be his own man, and he is! But habits ingrained from past lives die hard, and we know that he's starting to remember some things. I've always been of the mindset that the reason he didn't remember anything after the Greater Restoration was because taking in two lives worth of memories, two lives that ended violently and painfully, would be too much. The only way for Molly and Lucien to get one more chance is to do it together (I like to think of it as being like a Steven Universe fusion, specifically Garnet), and they're not gone, but they're part of a bigger whole, a new person. And the bigger whole, Kingsley, doesn't want to make the same mistakes (I really liked the metaphor of looking at his past lives like parents. It's just distant enough to let him stand on his own without denying the connection he has to who he was).

So I've been trying to think about it. How would Kingsley become the Plank King. How would he do it solely as himself, distinct from how Lucien or Molly would do it, or if he would lean into one side more than another there.

Either way, the fact that the first thing he does is unban his friends, and look forward to Jester's endless messages...it's a good sign.

I've got a lot of thoughts about Kingsley. I really love him as a character and as a concept...and I love Molly and Lucien too, and look at this person they are together! This person who is both of them and either of them, who is distinct but echoes his past even as he works to learn from it! Who probably remembers more than he admits, but who is trying to find themself and not let the secrets locked in the doors of his mind dictate what he does with his life, who he is. I really want to write about those first six months as he becomes his own person, as he sails with people who loved who he was, with the people who killed him and helped bring him into the world. I wanna know how he became the Plank King. I want to see his relationship with the Nein evolve and change (because the Nein all changed too, none of them were the same people that Molly met). I want more of his friendship with Caduceus, I want to know if he and Essek are friends too. I want to know if Yasha is still special to him (I think she is, because he remembered feelings about her first, and I think there was more to complimenting her hair then just liking how it was cut). I want to know why he's wearing clothes that cover everything, the scars and the tattoos, if he's got makeup or something to hide them on his cheeks. Does he struggle with looking at himself in the mirror, or with these scars he half remembers and half feels but aren't his? Will he someday feel comfortable with his body and be self assured that no matter what he remembers, he is himself first and foremost? Will we ever get him in a billowy deep v necked pirate shirt? He was talking about adding things to his coat, is he embroidering it like Molly did his?

UGH. I know this whole post got waaaayy off track from where it started. I just want more of him, of him with the Nein, of him as the king of pirates... I want to write more. I want to read more!

The man instinctively flirted with Caleb, I need to know more about that too. Need to read more there, there's so little.

[critterfloozy]

Campaign 2 Yarns

Explanation/Masterpost Campaign 1 YarnsCampaign 3, NPC, and Miscellaneous YarnsKnit Objects

Campaign 2 Yarns:

(There was more; I either used it or gave it away. But more under the cut!)

Veth

A 3 ply

Yellow is the same that’s used for the Caleb Yarn (Hidden Valley’s Bob’s Dandelions)

A very nice and colorful wool blend

it was inexpensive but I did have to listen to the seller’s sales pitch for her online classes to get it

I ended up thinking of that as ‘Felderwin’.

4 ounces of random llama in a hefty ziplock bag

Not sure where that came from.

Nott The Brave

Retroactively decided Nott the Brave was the first yarn I ever spun

It’s both lumpy and ugly and yet incredibly charming

I am always proud of it.

Fjord

Made with this absolutely gorgeous blue-green malabrigo rios

Malabrigo: gorgeous colors, great yarn, difficult fiber

Also bleeds all over

Anyway, great at being deceptive seems like a Fjord thing

Fractal Plied (because seashells, like the sea)

Thinner than you’d expect - laceweight

But a good amount of it.

Like, 800 yards of it

I was thinking of four plying it to get it up to, like, a fingering (still a very thin yarn) but was kind of done with this fiber at that point

Not a commentary on Fjord, 800 yards is just a lot and my hands were very green

Caduceus

First part is this Malabrigo Nube that was this fantastic color. WIldbros get the same fiber!

This one also bled all over

Needed a lot of slow, careful handling

The other half was this magenta and white alpaca that I got on basis of softness alone

I just stuck my hand into the fiber and purchased it without a thought it was so soft

Like 5,000 baby rabbits

Would give good hugs

I don’t even like magenta

Anyway, initial attempt combination didn’t quite gel so I thought I’d overdye it with this a blue/grey

For whatever reason I assumed the malabrigo half wouldn’t take the dye

Mostly because it kept on bleeding all over me

Turns out that the fiber takes dye just fine (whoops)

Which is why this color scheme is very Subdued for Cad

Became a nice (cow)l and fingerless mitt set

Jester

A bright blue with some darker tones to it

It’s acrylic! But soft and not horrible to spin ‘Faux Cashmere’ (from wildhare on etsy). A true trickster

A two ply - for duplicity

Became a baby hat and an ornament (see Finished Objects)

Yasha

Took some black and white fiber, split it in half, then twisted/plied it against itself

Then took some purple, blue, and white fiber, and then twisted/plied it against itself

THEN PLIED THOSE TWO TOGETHER

It’s called a cable ply

It’s super strong and ropey (like Yasha)

The final result reminds me of a 90’s solo cup

Somehow perfect for the woman who smells like a crayon

I love that about her. Do not take this from me. She looks like a solo cup.

Beauregard

Cobalt Soul Blues and Browns

Chain Plied (flurry of blows, chain attacks

Sport Weight, like a real jock

Done on a drop spindle, as it’s surprisingly good for meditation, and Beau’s surprisingly okay with stillness of mind

Caleb

Started off with the yellow that’s the same as Veth (Hidden Valley Farms)

Got some one-off yarn from Hello Yarn Called Blaze- this reddish-brown

The third fiber was a red/orange/brown handpainted roving (Sweet Georgia, called ‘Phoenix Rising)

Then overdyed the whole thing with some orange to make it an amber color

Extremely pretty

Practically glowed

Looks like a flame flickering

A+ would do again

Made a scarf with it with Essek

Molly

A weird one

Half this combination of red and blue fiber that looked like a sunbleached cubs fan

Also prepped so that instead of it moving from one color to the other, it had both colors side by side at all times?

Claimed to be made of corn silk? Partially corn silk? Not really sure

Dubious exotic origins seemed perfect for Molly

Other half was a perfectly normal lavender (from SweetGeorgia)

Fingering weight, because I never get tired of that joke.

[quinn-of-aebradore]

This is madness (the only other one is 485)

If I had started watching in May with C2 like I was originally going to do, I could have one of these

[edgy-fluffball]

The Mighty Nein (sans Yasha, who knows where she is, and before Caduceus)

[sankttealeaf]

I just want it to be like it was

And I want you to be as you were long ago

took some pictures of them today. at their little spot outside of the city where they would run off to as kids and pretend everything was fine (everything was not fine)

[nimhmistsong]

Ok, I don't know why I'm in such a sappy, pathetic mood. But I'm threathening to burst at the seams, and I'm silently crying about it, and I can't speak about this topic in my home because no one shares my interest. And I don't wanna make anyone else have to deal with my baggage. So I'm going to scream into the void instead.

Mollymauk motherfucking Tealeaf

Recently my DND group was chatting and of course we all like critical role. So we ended up talking about that. We ended up ranking who were our favorite characters in campaign 2. And when I thought about it objectively. I found Beauregard topped my list, followed by Caleb and Cad in second, then Yasha, followed by Mollymauk and Fjord who tied for fourth, etc. Which was shocking since- I mean look at my past posts. I can't shut up about the man!

It made me think about why I love Mollymauk so much outside of critical role. While inside it he's not even my top character of his party. Or even in the top three. And it ended up being a lot of things.

Now warning, this is gonna get sad. Suicide and depression will get mentioned past this point.

I've always drawn, wrote stories, and other outlets like that. Mostly cause I had nothing else to do. I was an asthmatic who lived in the south surrounded by fires, dust, and garbage air quality. I couldn't go outside because it physically hurt. Being inside wasn't much better. It was pathetic. At one point, I stopped drawing. I remember it, ripping up and shredding every single piece I had ever drawn up to that point, but not what had actually instigated it. But I remember doing it and sobbing and I didn't draw for almost a decade after.

Parents got divorced years in, I got taken with one by myself. Ended up taking an attempt on my life. Failed.

Not long after that I was perusing the internet and saw this gorgeous fanart. It was of a peaceful looking purple skinned, horned man surrounded by flowers. He was so pretty and I found more pictures of him, and had to learn more about this pretty character.

That's when I learned about DND and Mollymauk. Ended up watching critical role pretty late into campaign 2. There was something special about this character.

Now, you know when you just can't be objective about something? When a character or story holds so much nostalgia for you. Or hits all the right things for you that you just can't look at it objectively. Mollymauk was and is that for me. Especially in terms of personality and design. The more episodes I got with him the more he became my new hyper fixation.

One day, I actually had the urge to try and draw. It went miserably. Everything I tried crashed and burned. Any skill I had was long gone. Then I ended up trying to draw Mollymauk. It was shit. Objectively, I knew it was. But something about drawing him was fun. I can't put an exact reason why. But I adore the actual act of drawing him. So I drew him some more.

Eventually I got back into writing too. Because I wanted to write about the character who I enjoyed so much. It's the stupidest thing. But the tiefling that 'Left everything better then he found it,' worked his magic on me.

He brought childish magic back in my life. And ironically, the fact he was an asshole and he death probably aided that. It caused an absolute burst of tears. My heart ached and I got sick over a person who didn't exist. But in hindsight. I probably wasn't crying about that as harshly as I had been over just Mollymauk. It just- felt safe to cry over Mollymauk. It was the first time I cried in years. And I've felt far better since. Crying, laughing, and just feeling anything more often afterwards. Not numb.

He's a selfish prick of a character. I have quote of his written in my diary, 'You know what? I think I'm going to treat myself, I'm going to take it. I feel like I've earned something, we've had a good run of it, and I have never spent this much money on anything in my life.' Is that one of his famous quotes? Fuck no.

But I've always treated myself very poorly. I think I got it from my Momma. But if I'm not carrying most or all of a burden, I feel like a leech. I had several months of paychecks I didn't used because just buying a candy bar made me feel filthy and horrible and like I was doing something wrong.

It's so bad that I made myself cry of ver a dress once. It was the pretties thing and I wanted it. But I stood there and mentally berated myself to talk myself out of buying the expense, gorgeous dress that would have been a waste for me to buy. Its been two years since I let that dress go and it still haunts me. That's how hard it's been for me to treat myself. And hearing that line did something. I started doing this thing I did when I was small. Where I'd pretend I had pokemon with me and when I had to do something hard they were there with me.

Except when doing something hard or scary or trying to be better. I just pretend I'm Molly, that he's there, or that I don't wanna disappoint him.

It made me feel better about buying myself things because it's been hard and Mollymauk would say I deserve it. It made talking to people easier because most people aren't expecting that much. It made me feel better about standing up for myself when someone was being cruel to me because I don't need to take it. Even if I've heard and had worse done. I don't need to let someone throw me around. It made relaxing and taking care of myself easier. Even just trying to dress in a way that kinda emulates him makes me feel pretty. And I've never felt that way before.

It's silly and stupid and weird as I've constantly been told. But it works for me when most other things don't. I think that's why Mollymauk means so much to me. He's been a conduit to fix so much of my life.

Am I now in a good place and don't need him anymore? No. No, I'm still miles behind everyone else and far from being ok. I'm nowhere near being in a good place. But it's been baby steps and Mollymauk Tealeaf just happened to be the right character at the right time. And that's why he'll always be important to me. Even if he's not my favorite of the cast in canon. So even if he's story is over and it's been years since then. I'm glad Talesin made Mollymauk the way he is. Because he became the friend I needed.

Right, now that I feel better. Everyone have a good sleep! Treat yourselves! And Long May You All Reign!

[dent-de-leon]

OKAY BUT THE MOONWEAVER IS EXACTLY HOW I PICTURED HER I'M SO EXCITED!! Meeting with this tiefling's bright soul to give him tarot readings and try to offer some sort of cryptic comfort--setting the stage for pretty dreams and telling sweet stories that begin with the childhood wonder and fantasy of Once Upon a Time. Being equally amused and pleasantly surprised by this soul who finds his way to her door again and again.

There's also something I love about her bit of confusion at the final resurrection, her soft admission of, "What comes after thrice upon a time?" It feels like a 3 card set, past present and future, but now there's another card in the mix and she's never done a reading like that. But still so excited and happy and welcoming Molly and Lucien's shared souls like an old friend.

I don't know, I just absolutely adore the Moonweaver and this is always the kind of relationship between her and Molly I imagined. I especially love the implication that Sehanine is absolutely the beautiful woman Kingsley kept asking about, the one who gave him good dreams and told him secrets. It makes me really happy, that this Circus Man has found his way back to his moon goddess again.

And there's just something so perfectly beautiful about the Moonweaver drawing Love as Molly/King/Lucien's final card--and not just any depiction of it, but Mollymauk Tealeaf's own hand painted vision of Yasha. It says so much, that the Moonweaver lets him have this glimpse of the past, of what still anchors his heart back to the present, and when he wakes again the first word on his lips aside from his desperate cry of Empty is Love.

And it really cements to me that Molly's soul shard isn't gone; he's here, relearning the world around him and how the pieces of his and Lucien's lives can fit. It means something to me, that Mollymauk's heart is still there, still beats for Yasha and the rest of his loved ones. That him and Lucien joining together isn't someone taking away his body against his will, banishing him from the world--it's him willingly offering Lucien the chance to come back with him, to come back and try all over again. Molly's soul getting to live on with the Mighty Nein.

[popgoesartagan]

Picture if you will... C3 has begun and our new heros find themselves needing to venture to a pirate city ruled by a feared pirate king for some resources. They make their way to Darktow and the town is *thriving*. Businesses are booming, treasure is plentiful and the fear of the town seems to be misplaced other than to keep outsiders away. After questioning some of the locals, our new heroes discover that they must seek an audience with the pirate king himself. They climb the hill to the kings lair and are lead into the throne room. A throne sits in shadow across the room with the faint outline of someone or something sitting in the seat with one leg over the arm of the seat and cocky laughter begins to fill the room. "So, you've come to seek my aid?" the figure jumps up and is now standing and begins taking steps toward our heroes, stopping just at the edge of the shadows. As he glances up there's a slight glow from his red eyes. He steps into the light, revealing a purple tiefling covered in tattoos, gold tipped horns, and an elaborate outfit complete with an oversized feathered hat. "Tell me..." he says, "how can Kingsley Tealeaf be of service?"

"YOU'RE the pirate king?!" One of the heroes ask.

Kingsley winks at them and bows with a flourish. "Long may I reign!"

[mollymauk-teafleak]

I can't believe what I found (chapter three)

Further proof that I will never be accurate about how many chapters a fic will take me...

Huge huge thanks to my incredible beta readers who are the best people in the world and I adore @nb-fearne and @minky-for-short!

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Find the rest of the chapters and leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Everyone who didn’t know him assumed Caleb Widogast was a pen name.

Mollymauk had thought the same, back when he fell into that category. Mystery horror writers were supposed to have those after all, especially ones who didn’t put an author’s photo on the inside jacket of the book the way you were supposed to, who did so few public appearances and interviews. Ones who had so little information come up when you typed that name into a search engine, just a website and social media pages clearly run by someone else.

Which shouldn’t matter if you were looking him up purely for work reasons. Which Mollymauk had told himself he was.

And it just sounded like a pen name, the name someone would invent for themselves. It made Molly think of leather armchairs and typewriters and wood panelling, an author who could conjure up the dark, blood soaked mysteries Caleb apparently wrote and probably did it in an expensive wool sweater. It had just the right cadence for a name you’d see written across the bottom of a heavy hardcover that would make you look so smart and give you nightmares. A hardcover that had an eighties pulp novel painted cover that gave Mollymauk some interesting ideas for monster designs (he was already planning a Monster Maker session with the kids at his art club).

So when Caleb had turned up and looked nothing like the picture that name conjured up, Mollymauk assumed it was a pen name, the way most people did. Not that it mattered, he was hardly one to talk, after all, walking around with a name like Mollymauk Tealeaf.

If it was a pen name, then of course that was the name on the contracts and the emails from the publishing company, the ones that made Molly feel very important to have in his inbox. Of course that was what the smooth voiced, exquisitely accented man on the phone, who introduced himself as Percy de Rolo, had called him. Of course that was the name on the sample page he was asked to work from, the name on his invitation to the launch party where he’d first met him and realised it couldn’t be anything but a pen name.

But his author had tapped his bottle against Mollymauk’s, given him that soft, quiet and so disarming smile and told him he was Caleb Widogast. And his heart had sunk a little, ever so slightly, thinking that Caleb wanted to keep him at arms length, that this would be a job to keep his head down and get through rather than one for making friends. He’d be talking to the author the whole time and not the person.

But his friends had called him Caleb Widogast. Caleb Widogast had been scrawled in a messy hand on the little label next to his apartment number. Caleb Widogast was on all of the letters piled by the door. The disk on his familiar’s collar read ‘If found please return to Caleb Widogast’ and gave a phone number.

It wasn’t a pen name, designed to separate the author and the person. It was just him, a name he’d clearly made for himself but wore everyday. The man who looked like the person pen names were invented for just didn’t have one.

So the people who didn’t know him just kept on assuming, while Mollymauk knew better.

And the more he got to know Caleb Widogast, the more he liked him.

Working with Caleb was a lot like what Molly imagined having a cat must be like. He even had an actual cat to compare against.

He would arrive vaguely around ten in the morning, maybe a half hour or so before or after. Mostly after. Mostly more than half an hour. In his defence, he’d started putting a little more effort into his makeup in the mornings and such artistry took time. But Caleb never seemed to mind, he always had a smile for him when he turned up, sometimes cradling his familiar who would jump onto Mollymauk’s shoulders and curl around his neck. They’d sit and chat for a while at the kitchen table, over coffee from Caleb’s ancient but dependable pot or over boba Molly picked up from a place at the end of the block. Well, a lot of it was Molly chatting and Caleb listening intently although he would occasionally offer up dryly funny comments that had Molly cackling and narrowly avoiding gagging on mango pearls. Whenever he did, Molly would swear he saw Caleb flush delightedly at the fact he was able to make him laugh. But it could have been his imagination.

But after that, the hours would be spent in silence. Caleb would go to his laptop and type away, bouts of sudden rapid fire rattling on his keys punctuated by pauses of varying length, where he would press his fingertips to his temples and just think, until some switch was flicked in his brain and he’d be off again somehow faster than before. The first few times Mollymauk had tried to talk to him during these pauses, ask if he was okay, offer to bounce ideas back and forth or just to get him another coffee as the one had his elbow had been untouched for an hour. But he quickly realised that was a bit of a non starter, Caleb would jump when he talked and immediately fluster, look embarrassed and caught out.

So Molly learned. He left his strange, slightly feral new friend to his own mind and would just swap the coffees out without being asked and eventually just make him iced coffees instead that wouldn’t suffer so much for being forgotten about. He would play music from his phone, quietly, that seemed to keep Caleb in the moment longer and gave Molly’s own brain something to do in the long stretches without conversation. He wasn’t used to that and he was pleasantly surprising himself with how much he was actually enjoying stillness and silence.

Perhaps it was because he was enjoying his work so much. Every day he would conquer Caleb’s coffee table, scatter his art supplies across it, prop his big, new fancy sketchbook on his knees and draw and paint to his heart’s content. He had Caleb’s pages set carefully to one side so there was no risk of them getting splattered or damaged and he worked from whichever of them appealed most to him that day. He would sketch sheafs of character designs, environment concepts or he would just doodle with the words in his mind and see what came out.

And what came out was good. Mollymauk had always seen his art as something for fun, something to ease the rushing he always felt in his mind, the feeling that his thoughts were running on too fast a current and getting away from him. He’d never really looked at it and thought that he wanted someone else to see it, not until Yasha had shoved him off the edge of the leap he’d been too scared to take.

But now Mollymauk could look at what he was making in the quiet, companionable comfort of Caleb’s apartment and imagine some child seeing it and loving it. And that made him smile.

When midday came around and Caleb’s pauses grew longer and the lines around his mouth and eyes grew tighter, Molly would suggest a lunch break. Neither he nor Caleb could be trusted with much beyond boxed macaroni cheese so it was often ordering in or Molly could even persuade Caleb to go out sometimes. He’d wrinkle his nose and hum about it being cold but it would never take all that long to get him in a long leather coat and a pair of shoes and a long scarf.

They’d tried a few different places but their favourite quickly became Caduceus’ little cafe which happened to not be that far away at all. They’d waste a few hours in it’s calm, leafy atmosphere, talking and eating and people watching, sometimes bumping into some of Caleb’s friends from the publishing house. He didn’t seem to have any other kind but they were the nice, colourful, wonderfully strange people Molly remembered from the party. A blue tiefling who dressed like a haute couture clown introduced herself as Jester and became an instant favourite, chattering with Molly for far longer than their usual lunch hour about thrifting and cartoons they both loved. A gruff but kind voiced fellow author called Fjord joined them one day and Molly made a mental note to get his number, he felt like he knew someone who would love this guy. Not in that way as Molly didn’t fail to notice how Caduceus suddenly became very interested in eating with them when Fjord was there, how they stole glances at each other and there were a lot of blushes back and forth. He and Caleb found it very amusing on the walk home.

Their most frequent guests were Beau and Veth. Beau was acerbic, sharp, always dressed in workout gear like they’d interrupted her gym session and would pay for it. She and Molly took one look at each other and immediately decided they liked each other, though no one who heard the way they sniped at each other would think they did. Veth was clearly Caleb’s fun, chaotic mother before she was his agent, turning up with a tiny halfling toddler on her hip more often than not. She grilled Mollymauk with punishing intensity, while Caleb cringed, until he clearly passed some kind of test and was welcomed warmly. And the kid, Luc, gave him a button.

The afternoon would feel short and significantly less productive after all of that, Molly sometimes putting a movie on Caleb’s ancient television, the one that was still three dimensional and had come with his apartment. Caleb would shift over to the sofa with his laptop without fanfare, still typing but in a way that somehow seemed less stressful. Frumpkin would sprawl between them, cups of coffee would go less ignored, a silence of a different kind.

And Molly would leave about five, maybe a half hour or so before or after. Mostly after. Mostly more than half an hour.

And that had been their lives for the last month, aside from weekends which The Fletching and Moondrop Theatre still demanded and Thursdays where he left an hour earlier to get to the community theatre on time. Mollymauk wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting but it wasn’t this and he felt incredibly lucky all the same.

When Yasha asked him, calmly and reasonably, as she did everything, why all of this was happening at Caleb’s actual apartment and not the de Rolo building which had a whole floor of computers and working rooms for exactly this kind of thing, why Molly’s phone lit up occasionally with an ancient cat meme from Caleb, what he was going to do with any of this, Mollymauk joked or diverted or pretended he hadn’t heard. Because he didn’t have an answer.

He didn’t really want to answer, truth be told. He liked what they had far too much to rattle it, the whole thing might come down around their ears. With most things he just went for it, seeing no sense in holding back when life was so short and so fragile. He knew Yasha was surprised, almost as much as Molly himself was, that he hadn’t just asked Caleb out by now with his usual carefree disregard for what the answer would be. If he said yes, fantastic. If he said no, no matter, he’d still gained a good friend. If he said no and no longer wanted to be his friend then at least they’d both been honest about their feelings.

But Mollymauk hadn’t asked. Because this time, it did matter. It mattered a hell of a lot more than Molly was willing to admit to even himself. It had just been so long since something had felt this good.

So Yasha would just nod and wish him well on his way out of the door every morning. She’d ask how his day had been every evening. And they wouldn’t say any more about it. They just let things be comfortable.

Which was why Mollymauk was so surprised when it was Caleb himself who changed things.

“I have an appearance tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?”

Molly was so absorbed in his work, he didn’t react at first. He was mixing colours on a chipped saucer and had just gotten the shade of orange right where he wanted it. It was only the prickling sensation of being watched that eventually pulled his head up and made him realise that Caleb was looking at him expectantly. And growing more nervous with every beat he wasn’t answering.

“Sorry!” Molly blinked, sitting up and disturbing Frumpkin who’d slid in behind him in an attempt to slowly steal his place on the couch, “An appearance?”

“Yeah,” Caleb’s nose wrinkled apprehensively at the idea, rocking back in his chair away from the laptop, “It’s my first proper one for Der Katzenprinz and…well your name is going on the book too, you deserve to be part of it. And it might be less embarrassing to have someone there with social skills.”

Molly gave a little laugh at that, “Not saying I agree with that but sure. I’ll come. What is it, interviews and stuff?”

“Not so much,” Caleb leaned back towards his laptop, tapped a little to bring up his email, pupils darting back and forth as he read, “I guess children’s authors don’t go to fancy restaurants that don’t serve fries and get interviewed. Apparently they read to children at libraries?”

Molly’s eyebrows lifted and he made an interested noise, “Got to be honest, that sounds a lot more you than doing interviews.”

Caleb’s nerves clearly didn’t shift at that reassurance, “I’ve never been around kids. I only know Luc, I’ve known him since he was born, and he even fires nerf gun bullets at me sometimes.”

Molly snorted, picking up the right brush now he had the colour bang on, “As someone who's around kids a lot, that sounds pretty normal. I get that they’re intimidating though.”

“Yes,” Caleb chewed his lip, staring at the email with climbing despair, “I’m not reading the book but I’m supposed to ‘read some books that I loved as a boy’ which…they’d all be years out of print and in Zemian…Mollymauk, why am I writing a children’s book if I don’t even know what sort of books kids would like to read in a library? Why did I ever think that was a good idea?”

Molly set his paint to one side and relinquished his spot to Frumpkin, moving over to Caleb’s little corner. Not too close, he just perched on the arm of the sofa, tucking one leg up to his chest and resting his chin on the knee.

“Because it is a good idea,” he said simply, “Kids are a rough audience but they know when something’s good. And this is, Caleb.”

“But what if the interviews were right?” he rubbed his temples, “What if it’s too scary and gives them all nightmares or it upsets them and then everyone’s upset with me and it doesn’t help anyone?”

Molly’s tail swayed at a slower tempo while he thought, sped up as the idea kindled, “I don’t know what interview you’re talking about but if this is worrying you and you want to do a little focus testing…I think I can help you do that?”

Caleb’s fingers stilled and his eyes flickered to Molly, “How?”

He shrugged, making his necklaces rattle, “Come to my art club with me. Meet my kids, hang out with them, make something cool. Maybe run the story by them, see what they think of the idea if you want. But even if you don’t want to, you might feel better about the library thing tomorrow if we do a little test run.”

Caleb opened and closed his mouth, processing that. He wasn’t the sort of person who made plans last minute. Asking him to go out past four pm probably required a week's notice and there was likely a form to fill in he was supposed to request from Veth.

So Molly was honestly shocked when Caleb finally nodded and said, “Okay. I’d like that, thank you.”

Molly felt an instant brightness in his chest and he grinned, trying not to sound too shocked and finding it easy with so much joy to mask it, “Great! Oh, they’re going to love you, Caleb, I swear. I go straight there from here on Thursdays, you can come with me, we can get the subway- this is going to be great!”

He was vaguely aware he was on his feet and grinning madly, possibly looking slightly insane. But Caleb just had the smallest, sweetest smile on his face, still slightly nervous but sharing Molly’s loud excitement in his own quiet way. He turned back to his laptop while Molly bounced back to his paints, looking far more comfortable than he had before.

The rest of the afternoon sped by, Molly having to pace around the apartment with his sketchbook in one hand and a pencil in the other because he couldn’t bear to hold still. He filled a page with doodles that would never see the light of day and sang along loudly to the playlist he’d cultivated specifically for these days, Frumpkin watching him warily from the sofa. Caleb just sank back into his own world with that smile still on his face though Molly couldn’t help notice, on his circuits round the room, that he’d only written about two lines of presumably blood curdling horror.

Not that it seemed to be bothering him.

Subway rides with Caleb were always spent in silence, he liked to put his headphones in when he was around crowds of people and loud noises, drowning it out with a podcast on some incredibly obscure topic he would tell Molly about over dinner the next day. Molly didn’t mind of course, he loved to people watch on the trains and would just gently nudge Caleb when they got to the right stop.

The community centre wasn’t exactly the most impressive looking building. But the art room at the back was bright, warm and had the comforting smell of acrylics and tea and drying paper. The tables were covered with rainbow water rings, there were cups, brushes and palettes crystallised with layers of dried paint scattered around, sinks at the back streaked and spattered in hundreds of colours. The walls were covered in art, all kinds and done by all kinds of different people, like an eclectic gallery condensed into one room. It just felt like a place where people went to do something they loved to do. Like their sense of creative peace had soaked into the loud yellow walls and the heavily marked workbenches.

Mollymauk unpacked his rucksack, pulling out tupperware boxes of various beads, while Caleb wandered about the room, eyes wide like he was trying to take as much in as he could.

“You like it?” Molly smiled, looking up, large balls of twine in his hand.

“Yes,” Caleb’s voice was soft and reverent, like he was standing in a church, “I love it.”

For a long moment, Molly could only smile and watch him, until he shook himself internally, “Well, it’s about to have twelve little kids under the age of ten in it so enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

Caleb did grow slightly more apprehensive in his mannerisms as the time ticked on towards five, especially at just before the hour when the sounds of high pitched voices raised in delighted chatter could be heard outside the door. Molly gave him a fond smile, steering him behind the desk and squeezing his shoulder bracingly.

“They’ll love you,” he murmured, “Trust me. As long as you’re yourself.”

Caleb nodded, trying to fix his face into less of a terrified mask as Molly went to the door.

He flung it wide to a crowd of kids of various races, sizes and ages, whose eyes immediately fixed on him as he bellowed, “Who's ready to make a mess?”

He was, of course, met by a chorus of ear splitting cheers that just made the world seem a little brighter.

“Mollymauk? Who is that guy over there?”

It took all of two minutes. Molly had waved off the parents and gotten the kids all sat down, settled, explained that tonight would be for jewellery making and was about to pass out the kit when the question piped up from his elbow.

He’d been expecting it and smiled, “Why don’t you go ask him, Gnatalie? It’s okay, he’s my friend.”

The little orc girl grinned and hopped down off her chair, her sneakers lighting up as she ran to the desk Caleb sat behind and peered at him.

“Whose this guy over here?” she asked, her voice a little muddy from her newly grown in tusks that her mouth wasn’t quite big enough for yet.

Caleb gave her a shy smile, “My name is Caleb Widogast. Like Mollymauk said, I am his, uh, friend.” He sounded like he was apologising.

“Do you do art too?” the little girl asked, patting her hands on the desk like she was playing drums, bouncing to her own rhythm so her braids went swinging wildly, “Like Mollymauk?”

“Ah, no,” he admitted, “I write books, actually. Mollymauk is going to draw pictures for one of my books.”

Gnatalie giggled, “You say that funny. You say ‘Mullamauk’.”

Molly winced a little as he tried to look like he was giving out lengths of twine and not listening. He was about to let Joey handle the box and run to his rescue.

But he heard Caleb’s deep, rough laugh, a sound he’d hardly heard at all in all the time he’d known him.

“I suppose I do, don’t I?” he chuckled, “I’m from the Zemni Fields, you see.”

“Oh,” Gnatalie hummed, “That’s cool. I live on West Avenue, that’s near the park. Would you like to come and make jewellery too?”

If the sudden change in topic threw Caleb it didn’t show, “I think I would. If you and your friends don't mind.”

Molly had a length of string ready for him when Gnatalie led him over to sit between her and Joey, a shy Tabaxi cub with a notch in one ear. Caleb nodded to every one of the other children, who all regarded him with at least curiosity if not outright enthusiasm. Molly made introductions for some of the shyer ones and went through some basics, though of course the kids were free to do whatever they liked.

He talked them through some races and cultures for whom beaded jewellery had particular significance, how firbolgs had braids that could tell their whole life story, depending on how they were formed and what beads held them in place, how some parts of the Menagerie Coast were famous for their beads formed from sea glass. Caleb even chimed in, apologetically but quickly gaining confidence as he realised Molly and the kids were actually listening, explaining how some wizards trapped spells in beads for later use, how some masters could store entire spellbooks on their wrists.

“Is that what you’re doing?” the little gnome girl Evangeline had asked at that point, eyes wide with awe, “Making spell beads?”

“He’s not a wizard, silly,” Gnatalie sniffed, “Wizards wear fancy robes and pointed hats.”

Caleb chuckled, blushing a little under Molly’s highly amused gaze, “My hat is at the dry cleaners. I am actually a wizard but, no, I wasn’t going to put any spells in this one.”

“Oh,” Gnatalie accepted this correction with the perfect confidence of someone who’d known the right answer all along and had just been testing everyone else, “So what are you making yours for? Mine is for my papa.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Caleb admitted, looking down at the beads he’d threaded on so far, alternating purple and orange, “I just picked whichever ones I thought were pretty.”

“That’s a good idea,” Joey hummed, tongue poking out from his muzzle as he tied a knot, “That way it’ll look nice, whoever you want to give it to.”

“If you’re a writer, Mr Caleb, what do you write?” the question came from Bittie, a soft spoken drow who kept having to blow their white hair out of their eyes every so often.

Caleb blinked like he’d forgotten he was here to ask about the book and not to make a little bead bracelet and have juice and cookies, “Oh! Well, books for grown ups mostly. Though I have written one for children like you.”

That immediately got their attention, all little pairs of eyes swivelling away from their haphazard bead bracelets and towards Caleb, who immediately blushed under the scrutiny. A handful of little voices all spoke at once though the general question was the same. What was his story about?

Caleb cleared his throat, shifting a little, “Well…I don’t know every word off by heart and it certainly won’t be as special without the lovely pictures but I suppose I could give you a general idea and you can all tell me what you think?”

There was a chorus of nods and general noises of excitement, a sense of everyone drawing closer to Caleb in anticipation.

He seemed to steel himself a little, as if already bracing for disappointment, “It’s, um, called Der Katzenprinz which means The Cat Prince in Zemnian, which is what I grew up speaking. It’s about a little orange cat who grows up in a beautiful castle with his mother and father and has everything he would possibly want, lots of friends and wide open meadows to play in. And he wears a little crown because he’s Der Katzenprinz. Obviously. But, um, a stranger comes to the kingdom one day, a peacock who looks so beautiful with his bright green and blue feathers. Like your beads, Bittie, you see how they catch the light? Just like that. And at first the little orange cat likes this peacock a lot, he teaches him magic and makes him and his two dear friends feel important and powerful. The little cat stops listening to his mother and father and stops caring about the kingdom. He wants more, even though he has everything he could need to be happy. The peacock tells him he can give him all of this power but…it doesn’t turn out so well. It turns out that under his beautiful feathers, the peacock is a vulture. He’s mean and manipulative and uses the little cat’s trust to take everything he has and lock the Cat King and Cat Queen away and take the kingdom for his own. Everything goes dark and cold and starts to break. And it’s all the little cat’s fault.”

Mollymauk stared at Caleb, his eyes gentle but searching. He’d read it for himself, of course, he’d been turning it all into art for a month. But there was something in the way Caleb told his own story that you didn’t get from the page, even as hard as Molly had been scrutinising it to get it on the pages of his sketchbook.

“That’s very sad,” Joey said softly, his large brown eyes full.

“What happens next?” Gnatalie demanded, “That can’t be the end!”

Caleb gave her a rough smile, clearing his throat again, “Well, no, it isn’t. The little cat decides he isn’t going to give up. Even when everything’s dark and scary and he feels like he’s ruined everything, he decides he’s going to fix his mistakes. He goes to a far off kingdom and learns magic all for his own, in a library big enough to be its own city with buildings made of books. And once he’s learned all the magic there is to learn, he returns to the kingdom just as the vulture is going to burn it all down out of spite and he defeats him. He believes he can, he believes he’s strong enough and so he is. The vulture is defeated and people see him for what he truly is. The little cat frees his parents and his friends and all is well again. And, well, that’s the end?”

He crammed a cookie in his mouth hurriedly, like he suddenly needed an excuse not to meet any of their eyes.

“Oh wow,” Evangeline’s whole face lit up, “That was a very good story, Mr Caleb!”

“It was the best story,” Joey agreed emphatically, tears still in his eyes though he didn’t seem to mind now.

Bittie looked at Caleb with some new kind of awe now, “You really are a wizard. It all felt so real.”

“You…you really liked it?” Caleb seemed in complete disbelief, like the huge smiles and wide eyes around him weren’t evidence enough, “It wasn’t too sad or too scary?”

“I think…” Joey’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to find the right words, “It was very sad and very scary. But it needs to be? Because sometimes you do feel sad and scared but you keep going. Like Der Katzenprinz.”

Caleb smiled at his wonky pronunciation though the rest of his face looked like he might cry himself and his voice rasped, “I suppose so. Thank you, guys.”

“And you’re gonna make the pictures, Mollymauk?” Evangeline gasped, looking over to where Molly still gazed at Caleb from across the wide worktable, trying to put a name to what he was feeling.

“I am,” he hummed, making himself look away from this new friend he was beginning to understand in a strange way and at the children instead, “I’m going to do my best.”

“That’s so cool,” Bittie murmured dreamily, “You drew such a good cat that one time.”

“Why thank you! It was pretty good,” Molly chuckled, reaching over and ruffling their colourless curls, “Thankfully Caleb thought so too.”

“Can we read it when you finish it?” Joey asked hopefully, tail swaying behind him.

“Of course!” Caleb promised wholeheartedly, “After how much you’ve helped me, I’d be honoured if any of you wanted to read it.”

“Only if you make sure it’s a real good fight scene with that mean old bird,” Gnatalie nodded, balling up her fists and tapping them on the table, “He deserves to get kicked in the face or something. Like, real hard.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice,” Evangeline commented delicately, “But yes. He does.”

“Real hard,” Bittie hummed, tying the last knot on their bracelet.

Caleb gave a wry chuckle, fingers twirling the beads of his incomplete bracelet back and forth. His voice was rasping still and he spoke more to himself than anyone.

“Real hard.”

Molly was actually glad to have someone to help him clear away once all the kids had rushed off to their families, proudly waving their jewellery. Of course they had a tidy up time, complete with a special song, but unfortunately the song always seemed to take more attention than the actual tidying up.

Caleb was still humming the tune as he picked up bits of string off the floor, the many, many bead bracelets he’d just been given rattling as they slid up and down his skinny wrists. And he was still smiling.

Molly still felt that weight of unnamed feeling settled over his heart. More than once he’d opened his mouth to say something, to ask Caleb a question about his story, but something to say or a question to ask never presented themselves. So he’d just shut his mouth and kept sweeping up cookie crumbs.

Maybe it was because it was one of those things that mattered too much.

“Hey,” Caleb said, suddenly but softly.

Molly looked up to see he’d picked up all the string and carefully wrapped it around itself for next time, tucking it in with the boxes of beads he’d collected up and sorted.

“Thank you for this,” he spoke so sincerely, his blue eyes wide and fully present in a way they weren’t often, “This was so good. Even without the whole book thing.”

Molly smiled softly, “I’m glad, Caleb. They adored you, you’re going to have to come back some time or they’ll never get off my ass about it…maybe they could do a writing workshop some week…”

Caleb’s smile widened until it crinkled the corners of his eyes, “I would like that very much…um. And here.”

He took something out of his pocket and held it out to Mollymauk. When he unfurled his fingers, the beaded bracelet he’d made lay in his palm.

“I guess I did know who I was making it for after all,” Caleb shrugged coyly, “If you want it, of course, I know it’s not as shiny or pretty as the rest of your jewellery.”

Molly exhaled softly as he took the bracelet and slid it onto his wrist. It settled amongst his other bangles, loud with its alternating beads of lurid purple and eye watering orange.

“Caleb, it’s perfect,” he meant it wholeheartedly, unable to take his eyes off it as he twisted his wrist back and forth to admire it from different angles, “Thank you so much.”

Caleb only shrugged again, though his smile was now absurdly pleased as he pretended to be absorbed in winding his scarf around his neck, “Well, you’re a pretty good teacher. And you can only have it if you make me a promise.”

Molly already started grinning, “Oh yeah?”

Caleb shouldered his messenger bag and grinned too, making jazz hands to make his bracelets rattle.

“I’ll wear mine tomorrow if you wear yours?”

“I am absolutely beyond astounded,” Percy de Rolo’s voice was obviously awed, even as he whispered, “I shouldn’t be, I feel bad that I am. But I am.”

“Are we sure it’s him?” Jester narrowed her eyes, her stage whisper a little louder, “What if it’s an imposter?”

Beau had her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders and a doubtful look on her face, “What exactly would an imposter be after in this scenario? His coat that smells of cat piss? The dusty toffees in his pockets?”

Veth shushed all of their whispers, quickly turning back to gaze at Caleb with watery eyed pride once they were suitably chastised.

Molly only smiled and played with the bead bracelet on his wrist.

Caleb had ignored the small chair the library had kindly set out for him, joining the small crowd of eager listeners by sitting cross legged on the bright green carpet of the children’s section. He had a small stack of books piled next to him, pulled off the shelves according to the recommendations he’d gotten from the kids in the art class, and another on the other side of ones he’d already finished. He’d picked out more than the time really allowed for, just in case, but it didn’t seem like his audience was letting him go anytime soon. He might even need to go back to the shelves for seconds.

And he’d do so happily. Caleb was smiling, he was doing voices, he was curling his hands into claws to play monsters or wicked witches or gruff bears, tossing imaginary locks to play haughty princesses, even conjuring sparks and puffs of smoke for some theatrics. The few members of the press, shoved to the outskirts, seemed politely bewildered, wondering when Caleb was going to move to answering their questions and this would become a press event rather than a read along.

Molly had a feeling they’d be waiting a long time.

They were leaning against the wall between a shelf of bodice rippers and an ancient photocopier, trying to mask their slack jawed shock and bewildered pride at Caleb’s easy confidence as he read to a group of children hanging off his every word. Clutching mugs of now-cold tea handed to them by very kind librarians, trying to look like people who’d turned up today because it was their job to and not because they’d been genuinely worried about Caleb and were prepared to pull the fire alarm to get him out of it. And were now realising they might have to pull it to get him to leave.

Everyone apart from Mollymauk. Mollymauk had just smiled the whole time, watching as his friend, Caleb Widogast, had fun and felt heard. As a person, not the author.

He just smiled, watched and rolled the little orange and purple beads between his fingers.

[my-spiritualweapon-is-a-lollipop]

Family Portraits

For @fjoresterweek Day 3: Family

Read it on ao3

The walls of the Lavorre Estate are full of art of many varieties. It is a veritable explosion of colour and decor on nearly every wall. One wall however, is the favoured place of both of the owners, as it is the wall where family portraits are hung. Above a comfortable, plush couch with cushions worn in from many nights of use, this particular series of works hangs. They are all clearly done by the same artist, though the expertise improves through the newer pieces. It is a veritable art gallery display, a life's work of the history of their family.  

The first such portrait is small, set in a wooden frame, with a scratch or dent here or there. It seems as if it would be just about the right size to fit into a pocket of a well known, pink haversack. This piece features Marion Lavorre in a simple and beautiful purple gown. Her hair is down, as it often was when she was taking the evening off to spend time with her daughter and she is smiling brightly whilst leaning over the shoulder of a young Jester Lavorre. Jester smiles proudly alongside her mama. You would place the blue tiefling at about age 16, though the anatomy is not quite right in a few places and, if you look closely, you might get the sense that the artist may have faced the challenge of having to paint herself, which meant her model was ever moving. The pigments are slightly faded from time and wear, as it seems likely that this portrait was taken as a momento through a long journey, but the love in the portrait remains eternal nevertheless.

The next piece is a series of sketches that have been set together in one glass frame. The bold charcoal and ink lines on the pale parchment offer a stark contrast to the muted and worn colours of the previous portrait. There is a variety of sketches and styles that were chosen to be featured, some more formal and others more like doodles. You see Mollymauk Tealeaf in a detailed side profile, looking up to the sky. Caleb Widogast with Frumpkin wrapped around his neck, a serious expression colouring his features - likely drawn while he was identifying some item or another. A sketch of Nott and a sketch of Veth wearing similar expressions, artfully placed side by side creating a mirror effect. Next is Fjord, wearing an utterly ridiculous captain's hat with an earnest and serious expression that emphasizes the comedic effect; this one featuring a small sketched heart in the corner. There is a detailed drawing  of Yasha wreathed in beautiful flowers, it has the slightest wrinkle and smudge where a grateful tear had been shed over it. Next Caduceus, drawn with a soft smile and little doodles of mushrooms and tea bags surrounding him cheerfully. Several versions of Beau drawn with action lines and body shapes sketched through, showing the artistry of her motion as Jester had tried to capture one of her favourite martial arts sequences. Then there's Jester’s first draft design for her high priestess gown at Traveller con. Finally, Essek smiling shyly over a bowl full of soup. The pages overlap in places but if you looked close enough, one might just be able to see the inky scrawl through the page above that reads “Hot Boi likes hot soup!”. These pieces had been lovingly chosen from Jester’s sketchbook at the time, and though the works were made using simple materials, they weave together and flow to form a larger picture of the quiet acts of kindness and attention that had forged these travelling companions into a family.

Next is a large canvas that is bursting with bright colours. The Mighty Nein are wearing their highest quality clothes, once purchased for an upscale party, and posed amongst the blooming grove. The landscape itself is a masterpiece in it’s own right, but Jester has taken great care and attention to paint each of the member of their little family in all of their colourful glory to match. Every detail of the painting has been meticulously filled in with the kind of care and attention that came from at last having leisure time and wanting to commemorate a great victory.

Essek floats under the shade of a tree with a parasol still artfully posed as much for fashion as for function. He is subtly holding the hand of Caleb who appears next to him in a stark contrast to the grubby and bearded man with a thousand burdens depicted in the first sketch. This Caleb wears a beautiful set of robes, his chest is raised in pride as he poses amongst his family, and his clean shaven appearance compounded with the removal of some of his looming worries, makes it appear almost as if he had aged in reverse. Caleb has a hand placed on Veth’s shoulder who poses with her crossbow out, a hand on her hip, and a gleaming smile that displays all of her “normal amount of teeth”. Yeza is standing beside her with a shy smile, Luc raised on his shoulders with a gleaming grin that matches his mother’s. He is showing off his own crossbow as well. Next to the Brenatto family is Beau who has a snarky grin, and is holding her tie, clearly still loving her formal suit. Yasha has an arm around her and is looking down at Beau with eyes that convey just how much she cherishes the opportunity to hold her at all. Her long hair has been lovingly woven with flowers from the garden and they stand out in a bright contrast to her otherwise monochrome appearance. Jester appears gleefully next to her, surrounded by her large family and utterly glowing with joy. Fjord has an arm around her waist and appears to be posed rather comically like most captains one might see on the cover of a romance novel. It is easy to believe the artist may have taken some creative license in how he was portrayed. Filling out the entire rest of the canvas is the Clay family. Caduceus stands in the centre, looking perfectly at home with the large family around him. As they Clays didn’t own much in the way of formal clothes, Caduceus is starkly contrasted by their somewhat humble appearances but there is no denying the beautiful familial connection amongst them is more beautiful to see than any formal attire. Then at last, down in the front, lying languidly across the grass in a rather suggestive pose, is Kingsley. It seems that he was not one to miss an opportunity to be portrayed beautifully and he is posing rather dramatically with a flower between his teeth. All told this portrait is clearly the centrepiece of the space with it’s boisterous colours and even more boisterous personalities.

Next on the wall, there is a small piece of Fjord and Jester in a suit and wedding gown. It is surprisingly simple. The pair are touching their foreheads together and looking utterly content. The love is the real feature of this piece and it doesn't require much else. There is however, a rumor that there is a small dick hidden in the embroidery of her wedding gown if you look close enough, but so far only Caduceus has discovered it’s location and he and Jester have been very tightlipped about it, so the hidden dick remains a mystery to most.

The portrait after this is Jester and Fjord holding two tiefling babies and one half orc toddler of varying colours and slightly different ages. The new parents are showing off their freshly adopted children with all the pride they can muster. The next section of the wall features a mix of solo paintings or drawings of the children as they have aged, interspersed with art projects that had clearly been done by the children themselves that had earned a place on the wall.

There is another group portrait of the Lavorre family that features Babadon and Marion, Fjord and Jester, and all 3 children who now appeared to be just coming into their teenage years. Though some years have passed, the pride with which Jester and Fjord display their children has not lessened.

Next there is a tall painting of a day at the beach. This painting would have taken hours of meticulous care to put together but it was clearly a masterwork. Each figure is in action, having a lovely day on the beach. It was painted to commemorate a favourite family reunion and has been captured with near perfect accuracy.

Caduceus is featured standing by the ocean’s edge with two small children climbing over him that anyone who knew Beau and Yasha would recognize as their children. He is dangling a third, that is recognizable as the youngest Brenatto, by an ankle over the water, doomed to be dunked below but laughing gleefully about it.

Fjord is nearby, playfully controlling water to splash a group of teenagers that include Luc and one of his younger sister’s Caley as well as all of Fjord and Jester’s children (Artie, Ruby and Vandran) who are laughing and raising their hands in defense. Ruby is beginning to manipulate a wave of her own, likely to return the favour. Fjord’s beard and hair are getting to be mostly grey at this point, his body taking on a little more sag than it used to, but the playful glint in his eye remains the same.

Beau and Yasha are nearby, playing a game of chicken against Kingsley and Marius (on again off again lovers) in the shallows. Beau and Kingsley are nearly nose to nose as they grit their teeth in an attempt to knock one another off.

On the sand, they had set up a large canvas tent to block the sun and in it there were various towels and chairs and snacks. A hammock is hung next to it and Caleb, long grey hair up in topknot, with his still reddish vacation beard, has fallen asleep in a patch of sunlight with a book across his chest. The many cats that he and Essek foster appear to have agreed with his idea as he has four cat’s lounging lazily on and around him, soaking up the warmth of the perfect sun patch.

Jester, much longer in the horns, and Essek, who looks much the same as he always has, are painting one another's nails in the shade and Essek is laughing while Jester appears to whisper some secret story to him.

Finally, Yeza can be seen holding Veth’s hand as she delicately dips a singular toe in the water from the relative safety of some large boulders.

It is a work of art that is destined to become a family heirloom.

Betwixt the paintings on this wall, hang other artful details. There is a cross stitch piece made by Yasha that is covered in embroidered flowers and reads “Open your heart to chaos”. There is a small, ceramic unicorn perched on it’s own tiny shelf. There is a scarf that Caleb had knit for Jester, several years prior when Essek had convinced him that knitting would be good for his anxiety, hung with care between two paintings. There is a crayon drawing of the traveller’s symbol, drawn by a child who was unwittingly inventing a whole religion on the spot. There is the green bow, once tied around the neck of a weasel who has finally been begrudgingly allowed to return to the fey wild as he is no longer needed.

Inevitably, Jester will get the itch to add another piece, and then it will be a week-long process of arranging and rearranging the wall again until it is just so. As it stands now, however, with many old friends piled onto their comfortable couch, sharing tea from a grave once more, catching up on one another’s lives, what the kids are up to, etc. this wall is indeed the perfect background for their small family reunions that are becoming more and more regular as a few of their members age.

Jester glances through their history and smiles a small smile just for herself.

“So Luc goes up to Ludines and says-”

“Jester, what are you staring at?” Yasha cuts in.

“Oh just looking at the art.”

“I still haven’t found that damned dick!” Caleb shouts standing to inspect their wedding portrait once more and the room bursts into amicable laughter and they zoom off on yet another tangent.

Yes... it is perfect.