#Beauregard:: (cool monk shit | about)

[polyphoniie-a]

{Spoilers for CritRole ep 46} / DO NOT REBLOG

Beau legit admires J.ester for having as lonely a childhood as she did and coming out creative and optimistic instead of angry and jaded and my god if that’s not the most heartbreaking and beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.........

[critical-derolo]

washing the other’s body and kissing their bruises and scars with Beau Jester? (same anon as the other one, that one was PHENOMENAL and just.. yessss)

apparently beau is the resident punching bag

"Ow, fuck!" Beau hisses. She arches her back in and away from the gentle pressure of the cleric's touch, a deep scowl on her face.

Jester clicks her tongue and reaches up to flick the shard of jade pierced through the human's ear. "Don't be such a baby or stop throwing yourself headfirst into all our fights."

The wash room they're in is small and cramped, barely room for the tub and counter let alone two occupants. But the night is late and there's a lineup for the bath, not even including the rest of their muddy, bloody, goopy party. Clearing slime monsters from the city sewers is messy work, evidently. So they're scrubbing as quickly as they can, a boisterous Jester offering to help a sore and stiff Beauregard - too eagerly? No, nobody gave her any looks. It's fine, friends bathe each other. She's like... eighty percent sure.

"Shouldn't healing hands hurt less?" the monk grumbles roughly under her breath. She sucks in a sharp breath when Jester jabs her side. "Fuck! Sorry, sorry. I do appreciate it, Jess."

"Oh, I know. You'd be super dirty without me, Beau. You can't even lift your arm to touch your shoulder!" Jester tilts her head to the side, shaking blue bangs out of her heated face. The hot steam of the room has a charming purple hue tinging her cheeks. "Then how would you seduce all those waitresses? Nobody wants to sleep with a goop monster!"

Brows furrowed, Beau makes some rough noise of idle confusion. Her forearms rest on the front edge of the tub, Jester's pillowy soft legs on either side of her as she let's the cleric inspect the damage of her back. Deeply purple bruises blooming in cloudy patterns across her body from the hard impacts of their fight. A few cracked ribs, too, if she had to guess from the sharp pain every time she breathes. "Fuck 'em."

"Yeah, that's why we're bathing."

"No, I mean." Beau sighs heavily and grimaces, dropping a hand into the water to cup her ribs. Half a heartbeat later, Jester's cool arm is snaking around her side to wiggle her own hand beneath Beau's. Gentle fingers pressing experimentally, finding each painful spot and rubbing it soothingly. "I mean, I don't give a shit about them," Beau clarifies breathlessly.

"These are definitely cracked," Jester murmurs softly in her friend's ear, chin resting on that warm shoulder. "You're getting reckless."

"I'm always reckless."

"Not this much," Jester insists and frowns. Her searching touch melts into more of a hug, pressing herself as softly as she can against Beau's back. "We'll get Yasha back."

"Unless she's fucking evil."

"Beau."

The human sighs heavily and drops her head foreward against her arms. "Sorry. She probably isn't."

"She definitely isn't and you definitely need to stop punishing yourself for her being taken. We were all there, we all lost her to him... but we'll all get her back, too."

Water sloshes, dripping from dark fingertips hanging over the wooden floor of the room. A comfortable silence hangs heavy in the steam. "Yeah," Beau agrees and Jester can't tell if she actually believes it or if she's just saying it for the tiefling's sake.

"And then she can wash you."

The words sort of just slip out without much thought.

Beau snorts and abruptly groans at the pain. "Then who would maul my injured body?"

"Beau!" Jester gasps, her lips curling up. "I should maul you for that! I'm taking such good care of you!" She tries to wiggle, make a dramatic fuss about it but the tub is just too small. There's not enough room and she ends up mostly just rubbing against Beau's back - until lightning shoots through her body and hums in her toes and fingers. She immediately stops after that, her cheeks a deep indigo. Her eyes flick side to side, searching for... something. A distraction. A distraction so Beau doesn't realize what just happened. "What, you big baby, you want me to kiss your booboos?"

"My wh-at?!" Beau gasps. Lips cool and soft as flower petals in the early, crisp morning press against a heated bruise on the human's shoulder. Soft and reverently, and this.

This is not going how Jester wanted it to. She just - it's just friendly! She wanted to help her friend, that she loves, like a friend. Injured and struggling, and she can't trust Nott to not fuck with Beau in this vulnerable state! It had to be her and, yes, there was a weird moment, but she saved it! She distracted them both with a joke but then, well, a kiss on a bruise is comforting...

And friends comfort each other, so it just makes sense that she would kiss Beau. But actually doing it - it's... it's weird.

Jester's eyes flutter and she lifts her gaze to peer over Beau's shoulder at the sharp cut of her jawline. How still and silent she is, the way her hair falls down around her shoulders in dark, thick, damp waves. A blue lip drags against the bruised shoulder with each word Jester speaks. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah."

Another kiss is pressed higher up Beau's shoulder, closer to her neck. "Just until I get my spells back in the morning," the cleric whispers quietly. Beau's head jerks in a single nod and Jester leans forward to pull that dark curtain of hair to the side, another lingering kiss against the warmth of Beau's neck. "You can tell me to stop, too."

"That's-" the monk clears her throat and her head sways to the side, tilted and offering more of the smooth expanse of her neck. "Yeah, I'll, uh. Sure, I will."

By the time the water runs cold, Beau never does manage to tell Jester to stop.

[eve-is-obsessed]

everything I know about critical role campaign 2 (I have not watched it)

hi! I'm a new Critter who as of now has not watched any of campaign 2 aside from random clips in compilations and shit, but thanks to The Internet and also my friends, I know some things now. so before I start watching c2, here is all the stuff I know about it!!

I realized I knew a lot less about c1 than I thought (post here), but I definitely have more c2 knowledge so let's go

here there be spoilers!!! for the whole campaign!!! are they all CORRECT spoilers? probably not. but I do not know! be careful!

player characters

Jester Lavorre is my beloved and she’s played by Laura Bailey. she’s a blue tiefling cleric who worships a god called the Traveler, who I think is just a dude in a cloak who started a cult. I thought she was like 12 but apparently she’s actually an adult, weird. she does sendings that are very funny, and I mimic her horribly every single day bc her voice fills me w joy. she’s from Nicodranus (do I know what or where that is? nope!) she's rich but had a shitty family, and her mom is apparently the best lay ever? not sure what that's about. also I think her spiritual weapon is some sort of baked good bc she really likes them?

Beauregard Lionett, Marisha's character, is the definition of hot monk shit. she is gay and sexy and buff and represses emotions like no one's business. despite my deep love for her, I actually know very little about her backstory or literally anything she does. I do know the important thing though, which is Lesbian.

Yasha Nydoorin is Ashley's character and she's a fallen aasimar barbarian. I pronounce her last name like the Pokemon Nidoran because I have no clue how it's supposed to be. she wears badass makeup but it also might be tattoos or just her skin patterning? also she has skeletal wings sometimes but then through the Power of Love they heal. and she's very buff. she is in loooove with Beau and very shy and awkward. OH she has a dead wife who someone killed because homophobia or something, and she really likes flowers and doesn't know where her wife is buried so she can't bring her flowers :'(

Mollymauk Last Name Here is a funky purple tiefling, Taliesin's first character. he has cool ass clothing and he is so gay. magic??? he is flamboyant and maybe a fuckboi and then he dies in like episode 20. rip. he's friends with Yasha and I think was in a circus.

Caduceus Clay is Taliesin's second character. he's a pink firbolg and he likes tea and I want him to hug me. he worships... somebody... because he's a cleric and heals people. I think he's aroace confirmed? "help, it's again" is the only scene I've seen with him in it.

Caleb Widogast (?) is Liam's human wizard and his last name sounds like a Pokemon. my roommate is obsessed with this man, which makes sense because he is an angsty gay guy. German, apparently doesn’t eat? I am worried for him. he has a cat named Frumpkin and a boyfriend named Essek eventually. he has fire magic and killed his whole family. rip. OH ALSO he grew up in the Empire and was part of a gay polycule???

Nott the Brave/ Veth is Sam's character, and she's a goblin. I do not know if she's 7 years old or a mother, but it's one of those two. also I think she was a different race originally but got turned into a goblin and also hates goblins and also is an alcoholic. sure.

Keg (is that really her name?) is a guest character. she’s a dwarf? and a lesbian and has the hots for Beau. mood.

Fjord ??? I straight up forgot about this man. he's a green guy played by Travis, maybe a half-orc? and he's a pirate. warlock. does he have a last name??

non player characters

Essek is Caleb’s boyyyyfriend and he’s a purple drow. I think he starts off bad and betrays the party but over time becomes good or something. he can float and is hot!

Zuala I don't think actually shows up but she's Yasha's dead wife. [sobs forever]

Marion Lavorre is Jester's mom and she's a red tiefling who I'm pretty sure is a prostitute?

The Gentleman is apparently Jester's DAD and every time they sent him a message, I thought they were speaking to multiple gentlemen but it turns out it's just one.

Astrid I-don't-know-her-last-name is connected to Caleb somehow. I think she's also a wizard and has tattoos but I know nothing else

plot points

Jester almost gets her hands cut off, but then she persuades the hand-cutter to eat a blueberry cupcake and then casts Modify Memory and avoids getting her hands cut off

Keg and Beau have sex

Jester helps Yasha write a poem for Beau and I have the whole thing memorized

at one point, Fjord, Jester and Yasha got kidnapped but it was because their respective cast members were all gone. I think this is when Keg came in to help the rest of the party find them

clearly I have a very good grasp on the plot of this show /s

that's all folks! vox machina post here :)

[darkcomesoon]

So, I wrote this little thing because I am going to combust if we don’t have Beau and Yasha talking alone soon. This scene wouldn’t leave me alone the entire day so I had to write it down. Mind you, this is my first time ever writing fanfic, so I have no idea if this is going to be good, also English is not my first language so I’m aware there must be some mistakes here and there. Hope someone other than me enjoys it.

--

They were on a hill in the middle of a forest covered in snow and the sun was going down. Jester and Yasha managed to clear a good amount of the snow covering a big rock they found, right by the edge of the mountain with a good visibility to the rest of the forest. It was going to be tight but it was either that or sleeping on the cold wet snow on the ground since Caleb couldn’t create the tower today.

Ten minutes pass and Caleb finishes casting the spell to create the dome over the rock and one by one they enter the security of the bubble. Even though the dome gave them a lot more comfort and safety, they still needed to take watch to make sure whatever was hunting down in those parts of the forest stayed away.

First shift is taken by Caleb and Veth, Jester and Caduceus take the second watch. When the third shift comes, Jester, who had made sure Yasha and Beau took their shift together, wakes Yasha up and whispers in her ear “this is it, do something”, to which the response is simply a slow and sleepy growl.

When Yasha gets up, Beau is already sitting on the edge of the rock looking out the mountains. She stops for a moment, taking in the view of Beauregard with the white forest background. She tries to be a little stealthy but ends up kicking a little pebble directly into Beau’s tight, making the monk jump up a little bit. Beau turns around to find Yasha looking at her with an apologetic expression.

“oh shit, sorry”

Beau instantly opens a little smile, disregarding the pebble completely.

“Hey… Want to…”

She points to the spot next to her on the edge of the rock. Yasha lets a little “oh” escape her lips as she nods lightly at the question. She sits as they exchange a smile and an awkward laugh.

Both of them look over the mountains in silence, nervousness consuming the air. Yasha opens her mouth and takes in some breath as if she’s going to say something but her mind stops her. Two, three times, and on the forth try she manages to turn her head to look at Beau, who looks back at her. Without a word, Yasha awkwardly extends her arm to the side, behind Beau’s back but not touching her. She holds open her coat and gives a shy little smile.

“Wanna… you know… huddle for warmth?”

Yasha looks a little bit incredulous of what she’s said, but not as much as she looks proud. Beau gets the callback from the first time they took watch together and opens a big smile, admiring the gentle barbarian.

“Oh… I mean, yeah sure” She shrugs a little bit.

Yasha imitates Beau’s smile and waits for her to move in closer and as soon as she does, Yasha wraps her arm around Beau’s shoulder, covering her with her coat. Beau snuggles slightly on the side of Yasha’s body, her face turning a little red from blushing. She waits for a moment in silence before turning her head to the side and a little up to look directly at Yasha.

“So... we never actually talked after… you know, Molly’s grave.”

Yasha just presses her lips waiting for the question she knew was coming. Beau continues.

“I… I wanted to talk to you but I couldn’t really find the moment. I…”

“I’m ok, Beau” Yasha interrupts softly “I’m doing better, you know? I feel weird about all of this but I’m good.”

Beau holds in a smile.

“oh, ok? I, I know you are ok, I mean, you are the strongest of all of us, physically and mentally. That’s not actually what I was going to ask.”

Yasha gives Beau a confused look.

“That’s… I wouldn’t quite say mentally, after all I am the easiest to get, you know” she points at her own head and bobs it a little bit, making a funny face. A short snort leaves Beau’s lips as she laughs softly at Yasha.

“No, I don’t mean like that. And we do need to get you something for that” She also points at Yasha’s head “but I mean, look at everything you’ve been through. After so many people messing with your head you’re still here, and you’re getting better each day. Like, it takes a lot of fortitude and a strong mind to get out of where you were before. You are stronger than you think, Yasha.”

Yasha looks down, a semblance of a smile on her face as she contemplates every word that was just said to her. Beau waits for her response, knowing Yasha likes to pick her exact words every time she speaks.

“I… Thank you, Beau”

“Well, it’s the truth” Beau shrugs.

“What was it that you wanted to ask me then? About Molly?”

Beau turns her head to look away from Yasha and takes a deep breath.

“Yeah… I…Do you think he’s Molly still?

Yasha takes her time thinking about the question, looking over the mountains.

“I think… I wanted it to be him” She looks at Beau with sadness.  “I really miss him… But it’s so weird… he… he left his coat. And I think if it were Molly, wouldn’t he have come for us by now? I mean, wouldn’t we have heard something from him?” Yasha lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know, really.”

“Yeah…”

“Do you think he’s still Molly?”

Beau hesitates, not wanting to say it out loud but Yasha gives her an expectant look.

“I think we are on the same page here, I… Everything points to him not being Molly anymore and I think that would be easier, actually” Beau’s expression hardens. “But I honestly don’t know what to do if it ends up he was Molly all this time.”

Yasha doesn’t respond, she just tightens the grip of her arm around Beau’s shoulder, bringing her even closer.

They sit there in silence for a little while, contemplating the journey ahead of them and the beauty of the place. Slowly the sun starts to show its colors behind the mountains and illuminate the forest, they should wake their friends soon. But before their watch is over, Beau breaks the silence.

“Fuck me. This place may be creepy as hell but it does have its beauty.”

Yasha lets out a small laugh and looks softly at Beau. “Yeah, I think there’s beauty everywhere, you just gotta know where to look at.”

Beau looks back at Yasha, a small breath leaving her mouth and a coy smile on her face.

“You’re right.” She laughs “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Caduceus, tho.”

Yasha laughs at the response, a hearty laugh that makes Beau look a little proud of getting that reaction.

“Yeah, I have… He’s a cool guy”

“He is”

“And he gives the best advice”

“Oh, yeah?” Beau looks amused “What kind of advice has he been giving you?”

“Hmm… Just about some things I’ve been struggling with. I… I have some things I want to say to someone and I don’t quite know how to do it” Yasha’s cheeks are red and she looks a little more nervous now “So he told me to not be too patient, not wait too much to say it, you know? Not think I have more time than I actually do.”

“Damn, that’s good advice. And he’s right, you know?”

Yasha smiles “He is”

“So… are you?”

Yasha gives Beau a questioning look.

“Are you going to say the things you want to say?”

Yasha takes a deep breath and looks away from Beau.

“I… I’m working on it” She looks back at Beau “Definitely getting closer”

Beau smiles softly and gives Yasha a proud look.

“Good, I want to hear it someday”

They exchange a knowing look, filled with admiration and tenderness. As the sun rises, they stay there hugging on the cold white forest, waiting for another day to start.

[grayintogreen]

It’s WIP Wednesday! Here’s a snippet from my next big project- once upon a damn-you-all, which is a Creedemption Arc Fic and a Mollymauk Lives (But At What Cost) Fic stacked on top of each other with a lot of angst and CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT thrown in for good measure! First chapter coming soon to an AO3 tag near you!

It hadn’t been so long since the fight ended that the cart rolling its way back to Shadycreek Run couldn’t still be heard. They were in that crucial, breathless few seconds in the aftermath of a horrific event where the mourning hadn’t come and the shock was still fresh. It was in this moment that a dark shape slipped in, unregarded, and knelt down next to the lifeless body on the road, murmuring spare the dying over it before digging into her component pouch.

She tried not to stare at the lifeless red eyes, tried not to remember the last time she’d seen his corpse go cold. There had been no blood. He had almost looked peaceful. This time, he was just staring straight ahead, leaving no doubt that he was gone.

She laid a furry hand on his chest and felt the tackiness of the blood pooling there stick to the pads of her paw-like fingers. She choked back a tiny sob. How dare fate decide that I get you back, only to lose you so quickly, she hissed, mentally.

No matter. He had clearly found subpar traveling companions. She would take him away from it as soon as he was up again.

“Shit! Hey, hey!” A woman’s voice, rough and unfamiliar, shouted, making her flick her ears, but she stuck to her task without looking up. “Get the fuck away from him! Shoo! Scat!”

She hissed audibly. The dwarf woman making all the fuss recoiled a bit and then hissed back with less effect.

The man she knew to be the wizard of the party Lucien had been with turned to see what the dwarf was freaking out about and she felt his eyes light on her. She met his, her golden eyes leveled against his blue. “....It was Cree, wasn’t it?” He asked. His voice had a waver to it.

“Indeed.” Cree Deeproots, formerly of the Gentleman’s troupe, now a rogue agent in pursuit of her friend and the destiny he had started for them so long ago, turned away and produced a diamond from her bag. “You are a careless lot. To think this would be what takes his life.”

The dwarf began to fumble to light a cigarette, and the monk began a rapid-pace approach. Instinctively, her hand went to her war pick with the intent to threaten with it, but she stopped five feet from where Cree knelt, breathing heavily in and out through her nose in some attempt at cooling her clear temper. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Fixing your mistake,” Cree snapped, laying the diamond flat on Lucien’s still, mangled chest. 

The monk’s hands balled into fists and she looked like she was on the verge of saying something, but the wizard gripped her arm.

“Beauregard… Don’t.”

“If she brings him back and he’s not-” She lowered her voice, thinking Cree couldn’t hear, but she could. People always underestimated the perceptiveness of a cat.

“Is it any worse than leaving him dead on the road?”

“I dunno, Caleb. It might be for him.”

Her fur bristled. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Neither offered an explanation and she was running out of time. As if sensing the rapidly dwindling window, herself, the dwarf woman tossed down and then stomped out her cigarette. “Hey! Princess Fuzzytits. Can you get him up or not?”

No one tried to stop her and before they could distract her further, she began to plead with the Somnovem to return her Lucien to her, to make right what was wrong and let him dream for them once more.

The diamond shattered. A tense moment passed. And then Lucien sucked in a panicked, desperate breath and began coughing, as he sat bolt upright. “Fuck!” He snapped. “Where are they?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the monk woman beat her to the punch. “…Molly?”

Molly??

Lucien’s eyes snapped to the monk. “Yeah? As opposed to…” and then they skated back to her and she saw a new panic in his eyes, one that brought her hackles up in light of the new information she’d been receiving inadvertently through this dance with these strangers. 

“…..Cree. Fancy seeing you here.”

[unicyclehippo]

after the events of the clash beneath the cathedral, the nein return to the cobalt soul to rest and recover.

‘you are well, beauregard?’ caleb asks in that slightly halting way of his, as though he thinks such a question may be poorly received. smart man. it might be, but he says it only loud enough for the two of them to hear. fjord as well, who stands solidly next to her so she can lean against his shoulder, but he is pretending hard enough that he doesn’t hear it that maybe he really doesn’t.

‘i’m good, man.’

‘you went down—‘

‘ha. went down.’

caleb’s expression goes carefully blank. then, ‘hollah,’

‘no.’

he shrugs and, apparently satisfied that she is alright, if not perfectly hale, he turns and begins to make his way to the room the monks have given them, stripping off the grime-and-blood soaked coat as he goes. shards of glass shake loose from the folds of that coat and rather than try to clean it up now he just drops the coat entirely and collapses into his bedroll.

the others follow slowly, yasha not meeting her eyes, jester yawning as she and cad check over all of them to make sure they’re not going to die in their sleep. fjord too, actually, moves to nott and speaks to her for a minute before his hands glow with a verdant light and he touches her on the shoulder, draining a modicum of pain and a tightness from her face.

he wanders beau’s way first. ‘poison duty, any poison to spare?’ beau grins. socks him light on the shoulder. ‘hey, hey, careful! if we were putting a number system to this kind of thing, i only have like five hit points left. you could kill me with a poke.’

‘eh, you’re not my type.’

fjord groans. ‘poison?’

‘hell no. this body is a temple.’

‘what?’ he asks, and then his pain-and-exhaustion glazed eyes clear, a little. ‘oh shit, that’s right, you can’t be poisoned. great! because i only have like one of these left and i’m gonna give it to caleb—i don’t think hes poisoned but,’ he shrugs, ‘better safe than sorry.’

‘good idea. a minor inconvenience could explode him like his cat, right now.’

fjord chuckles as he walks away, leaving her there at the door still. she watches as he carefully negotiated rousing caleb, ducks the bolt of fire. she almost misses jester’s quiet steps up to her side.

‘hey.’

‘hey, you.’ beau sucks in a sharp breath when jester leans into her, tucks her head against beau’s shoulder and wraps her arms around her waist. after a fraction of a second, beau hugs her back. ‘you alright?’

‘mm.’

jester’s hair is soft as beau brushes her fingers through it. clumped in places with blood and ichor, and beau nearly cuts herself on a scrap of glass, but soft.

‘it sucked but...i honestly don’t see how it could’ve gone better,’ beau continues. ‘and you were amazing. getting yasha back—‘

‘that was cad.’

‘sure, but you scried, you knew she was...was still in there.’ beau feels jester just kind of shrug, noncommittal. she tightens her hug. ‘that thing you did to obann was fucking sick too.’

‘oh that? it was nothing,’ jester denies, all coy, but beau can hear in her voice that she is pleased.

beau swallows. ‘you also—i didn’t really thank you then, but, you got me back up as well.’ she tries not to perish when jester squeezes suddenly tight around her waist, just rubs her hand over her friends shoulders and back. ‘thank you, jes.’

jester nods.

eventually they split. everyone falls to sleep. beau slips out to make sure there are monks guarding the area they’re in, and on the way back she pauses for just a moment. the rexxentrum division of the cobalt soul stands in a half dozen towers, rather than zadash’s isolated tower, and in the central portion where the great reading room sits in a domed chamber, there in the centre there is a woman in the flowing grey robes of a librarian. her hair is long and her face serene and beau would just pass without comment if not for the fact that there in the centre of her forehead is third eye.

‘did you know you’ve got a little,’ beau points to her own forehead. ‘just a little—right there,’

REALLY? the woman asks, in a voice that sounds much like beau’s own voice, that dry, barely there voice that sits forefront in her mind as she reads. YOU SPEAK LIKE THIS EVEN TO A GOD?

beau struggles to calm herself. they’d faced a real fucked up obann today, and glimpsed a fraction of an ancient godly evil, but somehow none of that shakes her as much as that simple phrase. as hearing that voice in her mind, in the room all around.

‘so you’re like...real then.’

YES.

beau nods. ‘cool. ah—sorry.’

the old, wrinkled face lights with a delighted smile. HOW LOVELY. A RARE GIFT. something about the third eye and the growing smile assures beau the woman—the goddess ioun, she figures—knows exactly how rare those apologies are, and that beau’s knee jerk reaction to that being commented on is a sour get fucked, which she thinks but doesn’t say to the god. YOU DID VERY WELL TODAY.

‘i...thanks. thank you.’ beau clears her throat. glances awkwardly around to see if anyone had noticed the way she flushes a bit with the praise. there is no one around—in fact, the soul is eerily quiet and awash in a greying shadow that makes beau wonder if they are still in the soul at all. her footsteps, when she moves, make hardly any sound but the stone feels solid underfoot. she skirts around the domed chamber, closer toward ioun and the platform in the centre where she is sitting, cross-legged. despite being an actual, full-blown god, she looks like any other ordinary human—plus an extra eye—and when beau moves closer, she gestures to a folded mat beau thinks wasn’t there a moment ago. still. gods. that’s how they work, right? mysterious and shit like that.

beau takes her place on the mat, opposite ioun, and folds herself into a matching pose. her hands settle loosely on her knees and she lets her breathing slow, settle deep in her diaphragm. it ignites her ki, deplenished almost entirely by the fight, lets her feel it as it rushes through her body, carried along on the beat of her pulse, to the points of pain—bruises and cuts, the great, barely healed gash in her chest. and as she rests her body, beau feels her tired mind drain of the slogging exhaustion and grow clear and focused. she opens her eyes—wonders when, exactly, they had closed—and looks across to the woman.

her skin is a warm brown, thoroughly wrinkled like ancient paper, spotted with age spots like spilled ink. the irises of her three eyes are a vivid, attentive violet and when she catches beau’s attention, she leans in.

YOU MUST HAVE QUESTIONS.

‘just a few,’ beau lies. her goddess laughs, a dry sound like rustling pages.

GOOD. ASK THEM.

//

morning arises in the scattered prism of light from stained glass windows, and panic.

‘where is she?’ fjord demands of their guard, a monk freshly shorn. he shakes them by the collar hard. ‘where is she?’

‘i can locate her,’ cad offers, his eyes fluttering closed and one hand reaching toward the light. the flash of green from the stained glass seems to glow brighter, diffusing through the room, and he nods to the open door. ‘she’s close. come on.’

cad leads the way, but only barely, jester close at his side. eventually, they come to a cluster of monks waiting—eyes wide, murmuring with more excitement and surprise than any of the nein’s number has seen from these monks before—and the nein dash forward, push through the crowd.

it’s immediately obvious what they are interested in: there, in the centre of the reading room, on a low round platform is beau. she sits on a mat of lush heath-grey and surprising her friends appears to be meditating, her chest rising and falling with slow, deep breaths. what causes jester to lash out and grab at cad, at another monk on her other side, is the mark that glows upon beau’s forehead and the back of her neck—the light is thin, like watered paint, but glowing with undeniable power, purple and shimmering in the morning light.

there, set carefully upon beau’s forehead, is a crooked mark, lines turning in and in upon themselves at sharp angles. the eye of ioun.

[salamanderskin]

(Parts 3 and 4) Five times Caleb didn’t let the Mighty Nein take care of him when he was sick… and one time he did

Part 1-2 here

Part 3. Beauregard

It's still raining slightly, a misty drizzle that patters on the canvas over the wagon. The water doesn't fall so much as hang in the air for them to walk through. It gets under the collar of cloaks, into boots down the back of necks as they secure the horses for the night. The party's wizard dismounts and lands with a squelch on the damp ground. The action jars his aching muscles and the damp sets him shivering as he watches his breath escape in plumes into the fog.

“Caleb, you want the first watch with me?” The other human, Beauregard, hails him from across the camp.

“Ja,” he agrees. His body is aching for sleep but he will have to take a shift at some point and doing it now will be better than having to drag himself out of his bedroll in the middle of the night. Besides, Beauregard is good company and she won't fuss like Nott might.

He makes a point to stash another handkerchief in his pocket before he comes over and and settles beside Beau on the driver's box of the wagon where the slight elevation gives a better view. Not that there is anything to see but waving grass and straggly forest in the distance, all of it dewed with rain that glistens in the twilight. The last birds of the evening call from high in the sky. It would be peaceful if it wasn't for the distracting sound of his own teeth chattering. 

 Eventually the rain slackens enough for the two to put their hoods down. Caleb peers out into the blue distance, trying to breathe around a mounting ticklish feeling in his nose. He is trying not to sniffle, a habit he finds infuriating on other people let alone himself, but does give nose a hard rub with his knuckles. It doesn’t help. Apparently he is squinting at the horizon, because Beau asks in a low voice, 

“What are you staring at?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve got a really funny look on your face. Do you see something?”

He has time to glare at her over the prayerbook clasp of his hands before the sneezes hit and he flinches off to the side. It is an unexpectedly harsh sound to come from a quiet and skinny wizard. 

“Whoah, someone's getting the plague!” Beauregard raises an eyebrow in a mix of sympathy and horror.

“I-” the protest is turned into another shoulder-shaking sneeze and it seems ridiculous to deny it so Caleb just shrugs.

“Fucking bless you.” Beau says, almost admiringly.

“Fucking thank you.” He echoes tiredly. 

“You sound sick of that shit. You tried taking a potion?”

“They don’t do very much for a common cold.” He shrugs. “You should know that.”

“Oh, I don’t really get sick.” Beau boasts. Caleb mentally stores that away to taunt her when she proven wrong, but it rings true enough. She is much hardier than him, though that is admittedly not difficult. 

“I’m not sick sick.” He defends himself. “It’s just a- ah- Aeesshcue!” Another sneeze. Oh, this is undignified. 

“Sure. Whatever.” She agrees, shrugging. 

What he likes about Beauregard is that she assumes he can handle his own shit. Following that conversation they move onto other things and his condition is not mentioned for the rest of the watch. It’s really nice being with another human sometimes. 

Part 4. Jester

It’s Caleb’s third day straight in the library. There are some astonishing books here, so many he barely knows where to start. Beyond that the very atmosphere of the place is intensely smoothing.  muted whispers, gentle steps ringing on marble floors and the hush of heavy parchment turned by reverent fingers. Feels like safety. Feels like home. Feels like the answers to all his problems are in here someone and he if could just search for long enough, he might find them.

Well okay, there’s one problem books might not be able to solve. That would be the sore throat, runny rose, and headachy feeling that has set up behind his eyes. He had put it down to the dry atmosphere, but by day three and finding it no better for numerous cups of tea, he’s resigned to coming down with a cold. 

Luckily, Caleb has an almost limitless capacity to ignore the needs of his physical form. With enough handkerchiefs and a knack for pinching sneezes to silence lest they disturb the other patrons, his day of study is a success.

It’s only when he leaves the warm, dry confines of the library that he starts to really feel it. 

There’s a cold breeze that makes his nose drip mercilessly and his eyes water. 

He is very grateful to return to the tavern where the rest of the Nein are waiting. The dry, tickling feeling hasn’t left his nose, however, and no sooner has he come through the doors than three quick, itchy sneezes slip out.

“Bless you, Cay-leb!” A lilting, accented voice calls sing-song across the tavern.

“Danke, Jester.” He nods his head to his blue-skinned friend where she sits on a low stool with her sketchbook and a glass of milk.

He would slip right by her and up to his room to rest up but another round of sneezes knock him dizzy.

“Bless you again!” Jester laughs. “Was it very dusty in the library? I could use thaumaturgy to blow the dust off of your clothes, you know.”

He resigns himself to pausing to chat. “Nein, nein. No need. Where are the others?” 

“Shopping. Well, Beau has gone to do some Monk training things, and everyone else has gone to trade in all those weapons that we found for something better. You could probably catch up to them if you hurry. Hey…”

Caleb startles when she rises suddenly to stand and stare seriously into his face with her hands on her hips. Before he can flinch away she grips his chin and tilts his head from side to side, a pout on her lips. “Oh no, Cayleb, you don’t look very good at all.”

“Danke.” He says again, “so you tell me. Repeatedly.”

She frowns. He squirms. Is it so obvious on his face? 

“Ok-ay then.” She shrugs. “Don’t come crying to me when you’re miserable later. Well, I know you won’t. Don’t come crying to me when I have to make Yasha sit on you and hold you down while I heal you from some kind of stinky plague.”

He has to cough and clear his throat a few times. “I appreciate your concern but I do not have some kind of plague. I have a cold or some shit, it’s not worth a spell. Trust me that I have survived much worse. I am going to go sleep it off.”

“Oh, okay.” She relents sadly. 

For a moment he wonders if he should have let her cast a lesser restoration on him. It wouldn’t last long but it might kick the groggy, congested feeling that is making him too tired even to read. The feel of her cool hands might have been nice too. But that is foolish thinking. If he lets himself have some softness now, he might get used to it and miss it when it is inevitably gone. Better to wait it out. Instead he turns from her, smothering a cough against the sleeve of his coat.

He almost makes it out of the room before his breath snags into gasps. He manages to tuck his handkerchief around his nose and turn his face away to sneeze, but he doesn’t need to look around to see Jester wince at the sound. He sounds exactly as bad as he feels. 

“Cay-leb?”

“Ja?”

“Hope you feel better soon.” 

[punishandenslavesuckers]

(For the fic summary post) In lieu of Fjord's confessions to the group in ep 72, a fic following Fjord as he studies and views Caduceus as an inspiration and those feelings as an almost idolization and protectiveness is a concept sitting in the back of my mind since that stream

AO3 Link: HERE

So there’s a bit of protectiveness that naturally generates among their group when Caduceus joins up.

Not a surprise. There’s a few reasonable reasons for it.

A: because Caddy has (if possible) less practical experience than Jester (a literal shut in). B: He’s a cleric and you guard your clerics because they’re the vicious beating heart of a combat unit’s anatomy. C: Molly is fucking dead.

It goes without saying because saying it would be awful, but Caduceus is very literally filling a void left by a violent death in the party and there’s no getting around the associations that come with that. The times that Fjord has accidentally called Caduceus ‘Molly’ out loud: 1 time. The times he’s started to call Caduceus ‘Molly’ and stopped himself: a fucking lot. Honestly, just, an embarrassing amount of times and Fjord would rather not too closely examine why it’s taking him so long to get it right.

“Fjord.”

“Hmm?”

It’s the middle of the night (or whatever passes for night in a city that sees no sunrise) and the interior of their Xhorhasian home is gently lit by the fire-fly glow of magical string lights and the flicker of interior lanterns. Fjord’s been sitting in the main common area, contemplating the falchion blade where he’s laid it on the table so he can stare at its golden gleam in detail and ponder the pieces of the Summer Dance rapier subsumed by the living sword. An echo of Mollymauk’s weapon still in the blade.

Beauregard climbs over the back of a chair and takes a crouched position next to him with her knees drawn up like a monk-ish gargoyle. She glances furtively across the room, then takes an overly casual posture with one elbow on the table to appear casual, but just ends up looking odd half scrunched in her seat but leaning her weight wrongly. She commits tp it though, eyeing him.

“What’s up?”

“Why… why’re you sittin’ like that?”

“I – what?” Beau self-consciously sits up, adjusts her hair, and pats her ribs down for some reason. “I don’t know what –” She shakes it off, annoyed, and yanks the chair around so she can sit backwards straddling it and facing him. “Fuck it. You’re staring at Caduceus. What’s up?”

Fjord blinks. “I wasn’t starin’ at Caduceus.”

“Are you wondering if his face is, like, velvety?” Beau lowers her voice in a conspiratorial way. “Because I’ve totally wondered that. Answer: Yes. Totally. He’s, like, slightly fuzzy all over. I dunno. I think it’s a firbolg thing.”

“What? No.”

He has, in fact, wondered precisely that.

“Well, okay, then that means you’re just staring at him. Unless you were zoning out and he was just, like, there. I’ve done that. Been there.” She nods. “Had to run from the city guard. It happens.”

“Beau, not to be rude or nothin’, but I wasn’t staring at Deuces. I was just thinkin’.”

Caduceus is on the other side of the room sitting with Jester who’s showing him something in one of her sketchbooks. The long blue length of her tail lashes around, flipping back and forth while she gestures grandly at what might just be a collection of smutty looking scribbles from one of Caleb’s smutty history novels or whatever. Cad looks politely baffled.

“I dunno, thought you might be…” Beau pauses as thought to reassess her commentary. “Look, a lot of other shit has gone down recently, but back in the City of Beasts, Cad went down. Like, for real. If jester hadn’t had that diamond…”

Fjord feels a slow tension crawl through him from his belly outward, recalling. “Yeah, that certainly did happen. Uh-huh.”

“Caduceus almost dies a lot and it kinda bugs me since, like, we kinda asked him out there with us after Molly died. Does that bother you? Cuz it kinda bothers—”

“Yeah, it fuckin’ bothers me.”

Beau looks at him. Dammit, that maybe came out a bit quick. Fjord by the nature of his innate half-orcish complexion cannot actually blush, but he feels his face get hot all at once and clears his throat while Beau’s eyes narrow. For all that she’s bad at talking to people, she’s pretty decent at reading them from time to time, not that he’s 100% certain himself what she might perceive.

“You worried about losing him?” Fjord rejoins.

“I was standing right there when Molly died.”

There’s a moment of silence. Beau is staring at the table now, but isn’t seeing it. It’s the first time in – what? – how many months since Mollymauk took his last breath that she’s actually said anything beyond the most basic and brutal facts about it. She drums her fingers on the table after a second of quiet and goes on.

“Yeah, I just don’t want to do that again, you know?”

“Hey, I’m not gonna let anything happen to Caduceus.” A pause. He clears his throat. “Uh, none of us are gonna let anything happen. I think he’s got some big stuff he’s supposed to do, you know?”

Beau nods. “He doesn’t freak you out anymore, Fjord?”

“Freak me out? He never freaked me out.”

“Coulda fooled me the way you kept grimacing every time he, you know, is Caduceus and does something eerie as hell and a little morbid. Because, like, he does that. A lot.”

“Well, sure, at first. But I guess I’m used to it now.”

“Yeah.”

“And it’s kinda nice having someone in the group who seems to have confidence in where he’s going and what he’s doing.”

“Right? He’s so, like, sure.”

“I don’t know if sure is the right word,” Fjord says, shaking his head. “He definitely doesn’t know what’s going to happen next. And the stuff we do scares the hell outta him sometimes. But he just… I dunno. He fuckin’ abides. Bad shit happens and he just… has something else to lean on and he doesn’t know if that something is gonna let him die or keep him alive, but he’d be… fine with it. Does that make sense?”

Beau blinks. “That sounds like a thought that didn’t happen over the course of a short conversation there, Fjord.”

Shit. Fjord feels heat spread through his face but shrugs to hide it.

“He just ain’t scared of the same shit I am, I guess.”

Beau tilts her head. “What’re you scared of?”

Shiiiiiit. Why the hell did he say that?

“Nothing specific. Just saying. Different views on the world and all.”

Beau squints at Fjord. Fjord maintains his casual demeanor with the professional control of a man for whom deception has come as second nature for about half a year now in the company of friends. He puts a real effort into appearing casual, lest Beauregard somehow glean from the angle of his eyebrows the constant underlying current of gut-clenching fear that’s begun to grip him every night.

The nightmares coming faster now and more confusing – the oceans, darkness, Avantika’s laugh interrupted by the crack of her neck breaking, and the sensation that someone touched him while he was asleep. He wakes up certain there’s a rope around his neck or a hand over his mouth, fingers on his tongue, a fist around his throat and bone-crushing sinew wrapped around his wrists, his knees, his chest and dragging him down, down, down fathoms deep until the crush of darkness is so deep he just –

“So Caduceus is hot, right?” says Beau.

Fjord sputters. “What?”

“I’m kidding! Yeesh! Calm down, team leader, or you got that whole ‘doth protest to much’ thing going on.” Beau gets up, grabbing a sitting pitcher of water from the table. “Just saying, you’re staring.”

“I am not staring.”

“Whatever, man. If you want a sweet pink undercut, I’ll bet he’d tell you how to get one.”

“That aint remotely it.”

“I know,” says Beau, looking at him.

She waits.

Fjord isn’t sure why, in that moment, with her staring at him, the random impulse to just tell her comes to him. He almost opens his mouth and forgets Vandren, almost swallows that voice like a pill he’s held under his tongue all this time. But the moment passes even as the pale blue curiosity of Beauregard’s stare holds steady and in the wake of that feeling of almost release, he feels tired.

Fjord sighs. “The truth?”

“Or whatever you feel like telling me. No pressure. You just… seem to be thinking is all.”

“I was thinking that his goddess, Melora, seems pretty cool.”

Beau blinks, visibly surprised.

“Oh, yeah, I guess so.” She grins. “Any goddess that says ‘get high and pray to me’ is pretty cool.”

Fjord glances at Caduceus who’s sitting cross-legged on the floor with their other cleric.

Jester appears to be showing him lewd diagrams, which he’s regarding with the same academic mien that one might regard anatomical drawings of flora. Fjord can’t begin to understand the compound flush of fondness and jealousy that takes hold of him looking at Caduceus; the fact that the closest thing he’s felt to that was when he first met Avantika – this confusion of response.

He realizes now that his impulse toward Avantika was certainly desperate self-defense and attraction, sure, but having more time to study a similar feeling now, Fjord thinks he got it wrong. He didn’t want to possess the person he was looking at or be possessed by them. Looking back now, he wanted to just be her.

He wanted to inhabit the body of someone who knew what the fuck they were after so badly it felt like arousal. So he doesn’t know what to do with the fact that, lately, when he looks at Caduceus he feels the same unformed impulse to occupy the same damn space as him.

The waking fantasy where he crosses the room, ignores the disinterested academic look Caduceus levels at anything suggestive, and finds out exactly what it would feel like – sliding your fingers into unkempt mane of pink, gripping hold, and pressing your mouth against his. Tasting his tongue, feeling that strange and intimate vibration in his throat when he tries to talk through a kiss so you can just swallow that sound.

Fjord doesn’t know what to do with the notion that doing so would tantamount to worship – or blasphemy – but he knows that the impulse is taking root inside him. Sure as a notion to touch something he shouldn’t just to know the feeling of it. He doesn’t know what to do with this raw, ugly ideation.

So Fjord just grins back at Beau.

“I mean, I sure wouldn’t mind that,” he says.

[bloodyshadow1]

You’re Not Easy, But You’re Worth It: Canon Lesbian

My prompt for Day 2: Canon Lesbian. read and review

    The ride back from Fort McLair was quiet, disturbingly quiet, even for a quiet person like Yasha.  It was supposed to be a simple job, but now…, the air around their cart was heavy. Yasha spared a glance at Beau whose foul mood radiated off of her making things feel dark.  It wasn’t the monk’s fault, it was that damn wizard’s fault who tried to play with her mind back at the fort who was to blame.  But he was dead, Beau killed him before they found her it was an uncomfortable sight to behold. Beau was a private person, a person who did her best to maintain a persona of not caring and cool strength, to be seen vulnerable like that by her friends hurt her more than they realized.  

    She wasn’t angry with them, Yasha knew that, Beau let Jester hug her and speak softly to her after they found her like that.  She didn’t lash out or snap at anyone, she just hated that her friends had seen her raw and vulnerable like that and it radiated off of her miasmically.

    It was supposed to be an easy job, there were rumors of ghosts haunting the old dilapidated fort and the nearby villagers were frightened of what lurked inside, so they hired a band of adventurers to deal with their problem.  The Mighty Nein agreed to clear out their ghost problems for a promise of a reward and set out thinking it would be easy.  After all they had two clerics on their team and Yasha was with them for now, they thought they could take on any undead that was haunting the old fort.  Maybe they could have but it turns out that the old fort was haunted alright, but by cultists, not ghosts.

    There were over a hundred of them, all dressed head to toe in the same black robes, infesting the ruins of the old fort.  A cult of Morthog, a god none of them had heard of.  They botched their stealth checks when they investigated the leader preaching to his word and he immediately ordered his flock to kill them.  The Nein might be formidable in battle, but they were still outnumbered a hundred to seven, Yasha didn’t know who ordered them to retreat, but there was a call to run so they ran.  

    The Fort McLair was a maze of death traps, how anyone lived there before or lived there Yasha didn’t know, but there were pit traps, spears that shot from the walls, logs that would smash you if you tripped a string.  It was awful trying to make it through, Beau was the first to fall through one of the pit traps, she pushed Caduceus out of the way when he was about to fall and disappeared in the floor below.  

    That was the first time Yasha thought her heart was going to explode, she trusted Beau as a fighter, she was…, magnificent when she was in battle, but the monk had a lot of weaknesses that the group made up for.  Yasha didn’t like it when the little monk was out of her sight in battle.  But they didn’t have time to go after her, Caleb and Nott both messaged Beau who told them that she was fine and that she would meet them outside, so they continued their escape, Yasha ignoring the pit in her stomach.  They all got separated eventually, Fort McLair was likely poorly constructed in the best of times and the traps didn’t help.  Fjord and Caduceus got separated by a falling wall, the ground collapsed the moment Jester and Caleb crossed them leaving a pit on the other side of a hall, which left her and Nott together.  

    It was rough at first, the little goblin was prone to panicking worrying about the others, especially her poor squishy wizard manchild, and Yasha wasn’t the best people person to calm her down, but eventually they managed to recenter themselves, so they could what needed to be done.  It turned out that the two of them were a deadly combination together in battle. Yasha’s blade fueled by her tranquil fury found itself buried in a dozen cultist bodies stopping any that tried to ignore her to get to the smaller target. While Nott’s crossbow bolts flew true whenever a robed figure tried to slip a poisoned blade in the barbarian’s unguarded back before slipping back into the shadows to mark her next target.  

    After a half hour and a dozen different message spells flying around they managed to regroup with the others, except for Beau who was still lost.  By that point most of the cultists were dead, unconscious, or fleeing.  A hundred robed figures might have been able to crush the seven of them like a wave crushed a sandcastle, but separately hunting four separate groups of intruders took away most of their power.  Jester and Caduceus managed to heal up the minor wounds they suffered, and they decided that it was safe enough to search for Beau who remained lost to them.  The rest of the party didn’t seem as worried as Yasha was, at least on the outwardly, Jester said she was sure that Beau was fine, probably doing some cool monk shit and took out a million cultists on her own.  Nott even joked that Beau was probably using her secret agent training to use and assassinating dozens of bad guys a second.  Yasha tried to believe them, but there was a sense of uneasiness in her stomach that wouldn’t go away.  

    When they approached a chamber, they heard the sounds of fists hitting flesh and rushed in knowing it would be Beau’s handiwork.  But once they got inside they saw something they never thought they’d see, Beau was on top of the robed figure smashing her fists into where the man’s head would have been turning his face into hamburger.  She was covered with the man’s blood and tears were streaming down the little monk’s face as she shouted, “I’m not broken,” or “I’m not worthless,” over and over as if it was some sort of twisted mantra.  

    They were all in shock, Yasha didn’t think she’d ever see Beau cry, she didn’t think any of them did.  “Beau,” Jester was the first to break out of the stupor, “Beau he’s dead, you don’t need to punch him anymore.”  But Beau either didn’t hear her or didn’t care as she kept slamming her fists where the man’s head used to be the squishing sounds soon gave way to duller thuds of knuckles hitting stone.

    By that point Jester was getting closer but Yasha was faster and grabbed one of Beau’s raised fists so she wouldn’t strike the stone beneath her again.  She didn’t expect Beau to lash out and try and swing at her with her free hand.  Yasha could see Beau’s large blue eyes lost in their rage, she was paler than usual, much paler and her face snarled like a wild animal. Yasha had always known Beau could hold her own in a fight having fought beside her so often.  She was fast, tricky and determined a deadly combination, but part of her always thought that fighting with your bare hands was foolish.  Yasha had been punched in the face before, a fist can’t do the same damage as her great sword or the spells the rest used, and you risk damaging your hands, your only weapons, each time you attack.  But when she saw Beau’s fist fly towards her face she suddenly realized why Beau did what she did.

    The fist never made contact, Beau somehow managed to shrug off whatever madness she was under and stopped her attack an inch away from Yasha’s eye, though the quick stop splashed some of the cultist’s blood on the barbarian’s.  “Yasha,” Beau said weakly, “what happened,” she said staggering.  “Shit are you bleeding,” the monk exclaimed in shock when she saw the blood on Yasha’s face, she reached up to touch what she thought was a wound but stopped when she saw her own hands first.  She was covered in blood from her elbows to her knees, her eyes went wide remembering what had happened.

    “Beau,” Jester interrupted quietly, “are you okay Beau?”  She watched the whole scene worried about her friend and when Beau lashed out at Yasha she almost screamed.  

    Hands covered in blood Beau desperately tried to wipe the tears away as if it would remove the memory of her crying and what she was saying from her friend’s minds.  “Yeah Jester, I’m fine,” she said lying to her best friend’s face.  “A little banged up and tired,” she admitted, “I got a few cuts and bruises, but hey, I found the leader,” she gestured to the now headless man’s body, as if it would make things normal.  “He kind of got the jump on me and used some weird magic that fucked me up for a while, but I managed to break out of it.”

    “Do you mind if I rummage through his pockets,” Nott asked nervously as if she had never seen the monk before, “I’ll give you what I find since you got him, but you’re looking a bit wobbly.”  

    “Actually, yeah Nott that would be great,” Beau said exhaustion written all over her face, “my head’s kind of spinning so I think I need to sit down,” she said almost falling over.  She probably would have if Yasha wasn’t still holding on to one of her wrists.

    “Come on,” Caduceus said walking over to the exhausted monk, “let’s get some healing into you.” For a moment the amethyst on his staff and his outstretched hand glowed as he touched Beauregard.  As the healing magic did it’s work a few of her cuts closed up and the paleness lessened, leaving her skin a healthier darker tone.  “There we go, I’m pretty tapped but once we get to the cart I can do a bit more, but you should be fine for now,” he assured in his oh so soft tones.  

    “Thanks Cad,” Beau said still looking a bit uneasy, she tried to give a smile in appreciation but all she managed was something that would give children nightmares. She did look slightly better at least.

    She still seemed a bit unsteady though, “if you’re not feeling a 100% I could carry you to the cart,” Yasha offered knowing how much Beau loved being in her arms.  Purely for Beau’s benefit of course.

    But while she would normally jump for a chance to be carried by Yasha, instead Beau’s face turned angry again, “I’m not weak or broken,” she roared, “I don’t need to be coddled!” It took her a second to realize what she had said and instantly her face changed from anger to regret, “I-I’m sorry Yasha,” her voice full of remorse.  “I didn’t mean to yell, I think that bastard’s magic might have done something with my head.”

Beau sounded genuinely apologetic and miserable, “it’s fine Beau, another time,” Yasha offered to save her friend from embarrassment.  Beau lashing out at her stung, but she knew that whatever happened in the room had hurt Beau in ways magic couldn’t cure and tried not to take it personally.

“Thanks, I think I just need a good night’s sleep,” Beau said trying to sound believable and failing horribly, “and a bath,” she said looking down at herself.  The cult leader’s blood had seeped into her clothes from her pants to her vest and arm wraps, she didn’t often care about her appearance, but it was kind of noticeable and made her look scary instead of unkempt.

“All things we can get at the inn,” Fjord said breaking in when she saw how uncomfortable Beau was getting.  “I think most of those assholes are gone and since Beau took care of their leader here I don’t think they’ll be coming back.  Hopefully this will be a wakeup call for them and most of those people will just go home.”

“Or maybe they’ll come back and be the antagonist down the line in fifty episodes,” the ceiling/sky voice called out and there was laughter for a moment.  As always like the rest of Exandria the Mighty Nein did their best to ignore him, it was a nice male voice, kind of sexy while being nerdy and friendly, but since none of them knew why or how it happened, there was a universal agreement that no one was to interact with the Sky Voice and just go about their lives when he makes a comment.

“A moment Beauregard,” Caleb said approaching the other human of the group, “there are many spells that can affect the mind in nefarious ways, some just go away when they are broken while others have a sinister happen of coming back on their intended target.  I just want to check to make sure whatever magics the man used against you did not have a lasting effect.  It will only take a moment, if it is alright with you.”

It looked like Beau wanted to argue, but she was so tired and she knew how Caleb felt about mind effecting magic, “fine as long as you’re quick about it.”  And they managed to sit her down on a box, Yasha finally letting go of her arm so Caleb could do a quick examination.

He asked her a few questions, his eyes glowing while they did, ‘did the man say anything, what gestures did he make, did he look like a powerful mage?’  To which Beau answered, ‘I don’t remember,’ ‘he pulled a roll of paper out of his pocket to cast the spell,’ ‘why does it matter, he’s dead now anyway,’ trying to pretend like she was her normal stubborn self.

“Something from his pocket you say,” Caleb said stepping away from Beau finishing his investigation. “I don’t sense anything wrong with you per say, but it would help if I knew what spell he cast on you.  Are you sure-,” he started to say but Beau cut him off.

“Look Caleb, I appreciate the concern, but I feel fine and but I’m exhausted.  I agreed to your little examination and you said you didn’t sense anything,” Beau said in her usual abrasive tone.  If I remember anything in the morning, I’ll tell you but for now I really just want to get out of here before he stinks up the place worse than you and get a good night’s sleep.”

“Ja, of course Beauregard,” Caleb said relenting his investigation for now, though he still seemed suspicious.

“Great, let’s get out of here,” Beau said forcing herself off the box and strode out of the room on uneven legs.  

“Wait Beau, you shouldn’t go off alone,” Jester said running to catch up to her.  If she hadn’t Yasha would have as she moved to follow them.

Before she left though she heard what the others were saying in hushed tones, “well what do you think it was Caleb, you’re the magic expert,” Fjord asked as quietly as he could.

“I don’t know,” Caleb admitted with a sigh, “I was not lying when I told her that there are many types of magic that effect the mind, certain spells can only be cast by wizards, others by clerics, so I have no idea what was cast or even where to look.  The scroll makes things trickier, as it could be any spell known to arcana, and when they’re used they tend to be used up completely.”

“I found some remains of it maybe,” Nott said breaking into the conversation. “Jester and I also found a few rings which ran off with, a necklace, and a large purse of a hundred platinum,” which was the last thing Yasha heard before leaving the room.  She wouldn’t be much help sifting through magic spells, she’d be more helpful guarding Beau and Jester from anything that might pop up.

About a half hour later they had combed through the remains of the cultists for anything valuable, they got a lot of knives and some poison, and in total the other cultists might have had a hundred gold between them.  Beau was clearly agitated and tired, but she rested on the cart and kept her mouth shut.  Jester took a spot next to her, “I don’t want you to be pouty all alone,” she said when Beau questioned her.

“I’m not being pouty,” Beau said humfring to prove Jester right, but she didn’t protest the cleric’s company.  Yasha felt an uncomfortable feeling in her guts at that, a feeling she didn’t like and pretended didn’t exist. It was good that Beau was letting Jester comfort her, it was a good thing and Yasha should be glad was letting someone do it, even if she had snapped at Yasha when she tried.  

It was a long ride back to the village, even with Jester doing her best to keep Beau’s spirits up the monk was clearly ready for a week of sleep.  The villagers crowded around them all asking questions about the ghosts, not giving them a chance to answer.  Beau looked like she was going to kill someone if they didn’t get out of her way so Yasha, Jester, and Nott took her to the inn they were staying at leaving the charismatic party members behind to explain what happened and collect their payment.  

The Rusting Tankard wasn’t exactly the most inviting name for their needs, but it did claim to have hot water for bathing and rooms for sale which was good enough for them.  They didn’t have a laundry service, it wasn’t Zadash, but the baths were nice, tubs, not a large communal bath like a bathhouse would have but hot water all the same.  When the inn keeper saw the state Beau was in she offered to only charge half the normal fee for the bath if the monk promised she wouldn’t set foot in her common room again until she was washed.  

Caduceus offered to take care of the bloodstains on Beau’s clothes, he said something about the red not mingling well with the blues.  It would take a while, but he said he could do it.  Beau told him he didn’t have to, it was just clothes and she could buy another outfit, but he told her it would be fine.  They all knew Beau was full of bullshit, she could get new clothes of course, but her clothes were her monk uniform, she’s been wearing them since before they all met, there’s something sentimental about that, even if she didn’t want to admit it.  So, Beau took a hot steamy bath that got the blood off of her and made her feel like a person again, Jester offered to bath her but the monk turned her down saying it would be weird.  After which Beau was stuck in a pair of work breeches and a brown shirt that the inn keeper’s son had long out grown.  Beau had been offered a dress, with which the inn keeper said she’d look so much prettier if she actually dressed like a woman, Fjord managed to use that old half-orc charm to let them not get kicked out after the things Beau said to the woman.  

After that it was a quick dinner, after which Fjord and Caduceus insisted Beau go to bed, of course despite the monk saying she needed sleep she fought them all the way.  Eventually with Jester’s help, Yasha managed to wrangle Beau upstairs to the room and force her into the bed.  “A pair of strong beautiful women dragging me to their room, are you sure I’m not already dreaming,” Beau asked them cheesily.  Both Jester and Yasha agreed that they didn’t blush at that stupid line and anything that Beau saw that might be mistaken for such things was because of her mental trauma.  

After that Beau fell asleep right away which was understandable. Jester stayed up a bit longer drawing in her sketch book to show the Traveler before conking out too.  Yasha took up her sitting position on the floor as always, Beau and Jester often offered to switch or share the bed with her, but she always turned them down.  She was used to the floor and it was fine enough, a wooden floor was softer than the ground she normally slept on.  

Yasha fell asleep eventually, it was always a struggle with her nightmares, but it always came eventually.  But she was a light sleeper, in Xhorhas you had to be, or you might not wake up.  Beau’s feet crossing the wood roused her from her slumber and Yasha’s eyes flashed open ready for danger, but there was just Beau leaning against the wall sweeting. It felt strange for Yasha watching Beau in the darkness, knowing that Beau couldn’t see her.  Yasha knew that she was doing nothing wrong, she wasn’t watching Beau as she slept, Beau woke her up and she had yet to go to sleep was all that it was, but it felt strange all the same.

Yasha watched Beau standing there in the darkness and wondered what she was doing. At first Yasha wondered if Beau just needed to use the bathroom down the hall, but when she saw the monk take her boots with her when she left the room Yasha knew something was up.  She left a quick note for Jester in case the tiefling woke up and followed the monk. Yasha wasn’t the best at being quiet she wasn’t awful but she was just too big to be graceful outside of battle.  But while Beau normally was perceptive, she only had human eyes and was distracted, she didn’t even bring her goggles when she left.  

Yasha followed the Monk outside of the inn and eventually outside of the town, in the moonlight, one moon was even full making it easy for her.  When Beau left the town limits Yasha started to get worried, maybe Caleb had been right and the spell had done something to Beau’s mind.  When Beau got to the edge of the forest that neighbored the small town Yasha wondered if she should stop Beau from leaving town, she wondered if she should go back and find the others, but she didn’t.  Yasha didn’t know why she didn’t, but she followed Beau into the dark forest all the same.

The tiny monk kept going through the forest for another few minutes until she found where she wanted to be.  It didn’t look like anything special to Yasha, but Beau seemed to think it was perfect for whatever she was doing out there.  Sitting down Beau mediated for a few minutes, she was never good at it and could never do it for very long even now, but it did help to center herself, to let her feel like her Ki was a part of her rather than a resource to use.

The monk of the Cobalt Soul focused the best she could, the nightmares still whispered in her ear, but maybe if she wasn't just imagining it, maybe they were a bit quieter,  So it didn’t work, Beau didn’t walk all the way out there to mediate, and with that she got up from her sitting position and turned to the trees and started swinging away..

Yasha watched all of this with a sense of fascination, she had seen Beau fight many times, but that was always practiced martial arts.  This Beau was different she wasn't using any of the martial arts that the monks beat into her, she looked beautiful in the moonlight was all Yasha could think of.  Beau was beautiful she always had been, Yasha never denied that despite being resistant to the monk’s advances. Beau might be short but that was no problem for Yasha  But there was always something that felt like Beau was holding back part of herself.  

This Beauregard was different from her normal self, Beau had always seemed surprisingly reserved in the eyes of the barbarian, but now this raw, angry Beau who was trying to exhaust herself was like Yasha was seeing her without holding herself back like she was watching Beau rage without being in battle. The vulnerability Beau was was exhibiting  was something that made Yasha feel dirty observing without her knowledge, but it was hard to look away.  When the first tree fell Yasha was in awe seeing what Beau could do with her bare hands.  But when the tears started to fall from Beau’s face and she collapsed to the ground weeping, though Yasha knew she couldn’t watch this anymore, watching her punch trees wildly was one thing, but this was too private.

Of course, the gods had a sense of humor though, despite being able to follow Beau silently since she left their room, a rouge twig gave her away.  “Who’s there,” Beau shouted, her throat raw from crying and sounding exhausted but looked ready to unleash her anger on a real foe.

Sighing, Yasha stepped out from behind the tree that had been her shelter and into the moonlight, “it’s me Beauregard.”  

“Yasha,” Beau said more than asked sounding confused, “what are you doing out here?”

“I you woke me up when you left the room,” Yasha said thinking honesty was the best policy.  “After what happened today I was worried that you weren’t in the right mind.  I thought maybe you were leaving.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to walk away, I know that’s your thing,” Beau said and it hurt Yasha’s heart to know she was right.  Noticing the hurt on Yasha’s face Beau felt ashamed, “I’m sorry, I’m upset that I was being spied on, but I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s fine,” Yasha lied, “you didn’t say anything that was untrue.”

“Yeah, but I didn't’ say it because it was true,” Beau said ashamed, “I said it because I wanted it to hurt you, so I’m sorry.”

“Beauregard,” Yasha said softly, “what happened today with the cult leader?  I won’t tell anyone but you need to talk to someone if only so you don’t have to carry the burden alone.”  when it looked like Beau was just going to wave her off, Yasha decided to play dirty, “Molly taught me that you know,” it was true, but it also wasn’t fair.

“That’s some cheap shit, Yasha,” Beau said with a huff.

“Perhaps,” Yasha admitted, she knows how much Molly’s death weighs on Beau, “but it’s the type of cheap move that gets results, which he would care about more if it was with someone he cared about.”

For a moment Beau was quiet, and Yasha thought she pushed too hard, “it was my dad,” Beau said with a hint of finality.  “Whatever the good Reverend’s spell did to me…, I saw my dad.  Except, I wasn’t me anymore, I was back to being a little girl and he seemed so much bigger than he is in real life, just as much of an asshole though.”  And like that, the dam began to break, “he was yelling at me again like he always did, calling me worthless, that I was nothing, that I was born broken, all things he’s said since I was eight, but then he called me unloveable and I don’t know why but something broke inside of me and I flipped out on him.  I’m not sure if I broke the spell or if I just swung hard enough at what I thought was my dad to disrupt the reverend’s spell, but it happened.  I didn’t stop swinging though, not when he surrendered, not when he begged for mercy, not when he stopped saying anything,” Beau said softly as she remembered the squishing of the man’s remains beneath her.

“Why do you think it bothered you so much, what the projection of your father said,” Yasha asked at a loss.  She wanted to help Beauregard, she wanted to help her so much but she wasn’t good at this sort of thing. She wasn’t like Molly who could get anyone to talk just by being him and she wasn’t like Caduceus that managed to help everyone he talked to.

“Because he was right,” Beau shouted as she turned away from Yasha, tears were starting to fall down her face again and she didn’t want Yasha to see.  “Because I’m broken, I’m worthless, and I’m nothing.  But he was right, I’m unloveable,” and Yasha had never heard Beau’s voice sounding so weak and defeated.

Before Beau could say another word though she felt Yasha’s massive arms wrap around her from behind, “don’t say that Beau,” Yasha whispered into her back.  “Don’t say that son of a bitch was right because he isn’t.  You are amazing, you are beautiful, and you are loved, so don’t listen to those voices in your head that are telling you otherwise.  They’re lying to you, so don’t listen to them.” She didn’t know what to say, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to try to help and she just let the truth flow out.

Yasha could feel the smaller woman weeping in her arms and didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to trip over the words, she just needed for Beau to know she was there, and that someone cared about her.

Gonna level with you, I sort of rushed the ending.  It’s close to 10:00 pm here on thursday night which means Critical Role is on so I needed to get this up and posted because I don’t want to write it during the episode.  So here’s my work for the prompt Canon Lesbian, which Beau is and she’s my favorite character.  I think Yasha is too, and I headcanon her as a lesbian, but all we know is that she does is attracted to women, obviously since she was married to one.  This was an odd piece, originally it was supposed to be from Beau’s perspective and end after she broke the spell, and honestly it was supposed to be more Beaujester than Beauyasha, but I decided to make the change for some reason.  I’ll do a Beaujester one shot later but for now this is my second story for CRfemslash week.  Read and comment if you want more, it helps more than you would think.

PS for those who might be curious, the spell that was cast on Beau was Weird, a ninth level spell.  The Reverend who I call Joffell was wealthy and stumbled upon treasure he didn’t realize the worth of, but he was also an idiot who wasted a 9th level spell because Beau pissed him off in the first draft of the story.

[joyful-mollymauk]

Lost Souls & Revelry: Chapter 2

Here is the thing finally! Sorry for the delay!

It’s also on AO3!

She’s feeling the itch. It’s the worst time for it, really. Her flask is empty and she’s in a small town, somewhere it’s hard to disappear into a crowd. She knows it’s a bad time, but she’s tried to ignore the itch all day and she’s going out of her mind. She has her eye on a beautiful red glow. The sun is shining and glittering through a row of bottles, lined up along the edge of a kiosk on the street. The bottle has shiny gold foil on the top and it looks like a ruby and Nott is pretty sure it’s alcoholic. It’s like it has her name written on it. Nott hunkers down in the shadows. She touches her mask, making sure that it’s still in place. The little marketplace is as busy as it gets at the moment, and she probably won’t get another chance this good to snag something and get away without being seen. Her heart is beating hard but it’s partly anticipation as she eyes her prize. It’s risky in a town this small. She’s spotted just a small handful of Crownsguard throughout, but they’re certainly present. But she can’t wait. She needs something to soothe her nerves before she moves on. Since her encounter with that human mage in the outskirts, she’s been having strange dreams. Last night she had a horrible nightmare about being on a boat, nothing on the horizon but water and more water. It was a bad morning to wake up to an empty flask. She’ll be quick. She’ll grab the bottle and blend into the crowd before anyone’s the wiser. Nott takes a deep breath and steps out into the street. 

...

Beauregard breathes in deeply, her eyes closed. She centers herself in the physical feeling of her body. Her hands rest on her knees. Her monk vestments are soft and loose and familiar on her skin. She keeps her shoulders back, opening her whole torso for her even, measured breaths. The sun is shining down on her face, which itches with dirt and new growth and— “Gods damn it!” Beau shouts. A shabby ginger guy scowls at her. “If you cold please stop it,” he snaps, “I am trying to concentrate.” “So am I, asshole!” Beau shoots back. “I’m trying to concentrate on not having any of these fucking out-of-body experiences, but you’re here anyway!” “I am also trying to avoid more of this ridiculous shit,” the man snaps. He turns sharply away from her, fumbling through his pockets. Beau slams her eyes closed and fucking breathes. She breathes out through her nose like her teachers tell her, only it comes out in a huff instead of one silent release of tension because that fucking guy is still there. “How about,” the guy says, voice tight and stilted, “you focus on your shit and I will focus on mine, yes? You are clearly not a wizard, so you are no concern of mine.” Beau flips him off. “You’re the one ruining my meditation here. I’m trying to do some monk shit and block this out, okay, you’re the one invading my head!” “None of this makes sense!” the man yells, spinning back around. “Neither of you should be able to see me at all!” “What do you mean, neither of us?” Beau narrows her eyes. “Did you see that blue tiefling, too?” The guy looks taken aback. “What tiefling? No – a goblin woman appeared in front of me.” He grips roughly at his own hair, and Beau’s scalp tugs uncomfortably. “What is happening?” Beau leaps up. “Hey, wait a sec, I’ve got—” He rears back, hands flying toward her. “Don’t—!” Beau falls on her ass hard. He’s gone. It’s just her alone in the meditation room. “Fucking damn it!” … “This is the coolest thing ever!” Fjord smiles down at the rope in his hands. He can feel the salt spray from the water, the wind whipping through Jester’s dress as she holds her arms out wide. She’s been skipping around the deck since she popped in a few minutes ago. She’s got a boundless energy and curiosity for new things, and Fjord’s deeply grateful that whatever weird connection they’ve got, it seems to be giving Jester Fjord’s own sea legs. “Do you think I can do that?” Fjord glances up. His first furtive look is around the deck, to see if there’s anyone nearby to hear what sounds like him talking to himself. Reassured, he glances over to Jester. She’s looking up into the ship’s rigging, watching crew members hard at work dozens of feet off the ground, clinging to ropes or scrambling across ladders. Her big blue eyes go back to Fjord as she grins. “Can you do that? Can we try it?” Fjord chuckles at her enthusiasm. “Sorry, Jester,” he mutters. He knows she can hear him, even standing a dozen feet away engrossed in the bustle and work of the ship. “It’s not my job today, I’m needed right where I am.” She sighs and comes over to flop down next to him. “But what you’re doing isn’t as cool,” she grumbles. She glances over at the rope in his hands. “You’re not even braiding, like, hair or flowers or ribbons or anything. Couldn’t you put some ribbons in there? Just to make it look nicer, I’m sure it will still be a great rope even if there are ribbons in it.” Fjord shakes his head, smiling. “It’s not that kinda rope, Jester, sorry to disappoint. Just needs to be functional is all.” Jester snorts. “Things can be functional and also be pretty,” she chastises. Fjord blinks, and looks over to see the rope in her hands as he looks at her. She’s deft and practiced with it, just as much as he is. Because she’s me, Fjord realizes with a jolt. She’s doing as well as me because I am doing it. He shakes his head, and the weird transposition snaps back into place. He looks sidelong at Jester to see if she noticed the feeling of trading places for a moment. She’s got a book out, though, and she’s not even looking at him or the rope anymore. “Just like this,” she says, and Fjord gets the feeling that she’s speaking to someone else – some third person that he can’t see or hear. Is that possible? Is Jester some kinda magic-uses that teleports herself around talking to all kinds of people? “… and it could have like that really nice paint in there, too, that looks just like actual gold, ooh! And you could hang up lots and lots of curtains for little rooms, you know to make like your bedroom, and your dressing room, and lots of them until you basically just have your whole house—” He watches her hands move across the page as his own fingers twine the rope around and around and around. … Yasha glances around one more time. She’s not sure what she expects to see, camping out a mile off the road like she is, but she just wants to make sure. There’s no one in sight, nothing interrupting the quiet sounds of animals rusting about their lives. She sits down and leans back against a tree, getting comfortable. Her sword is close at hand, as always. She’s safe. “Molly?” she calls tentatively. There’s no ripple, no feeling of displacement or magic being worked. She is just suddenly sitting next to Mollymauk, flooded with the sensations of their tent at the carnival. It’s no illusion; she feels the warm, washed-soft flannel of Molly’s sheets, the tent flap thrown open to let daylight and a breeze in, the familiar smell of Mollymauk’s perfumes and soaps. Molly himself lights up at her appearance. “Hello, you,” he beams. Yasha smiles at him as he leans over and pecks her on the cheek. It’s just the two of them in the tent at the moment. Molly’s swords are laid out on his gaudy coat, and his backpack is open next to Yasha. Desmond’s side of the tent is empty and cleared out. “Where are we headed?” Yasha asks. Molly flops down next to her on his bedroll and leans into her shoulder while he continues packing his belongings. “Further southeast?” he says, tilting his head. Yasha shakes her head fondly. It’s never a certain thing to ask Mollymauk where the circus was going to end up. He notices her movement and shrugs. “I think I recognized the name Gustav is aiming for, but honestly I’m probably wrong.” “Hm.” Yasha thinks of her current camp, deep in the forest. If Molly is right this time, the circus is heading in her direction this time, or close enough. He sneaks a glance at her, sidelong. For a second her heart skips, and she thinks, this is the time you’ll have to lie to him. Then his lips tick up to reveal one sharp tooth, and he bumps his shoulder into hers. Molly doesn’t ask. He packs up his things, and he tells her about the local halfling children who will be sad to see the carnival go, who have been entranced by Molly’s card-readings and flashy jewelry for the past few days. She brings out the book he gave her and shows him three new flowers she found, tough but colorful little mountain blooms in white and blue and orange. Molly doesn’t ask, and Yasha doesn’t say just in case, but she feels that she’s close to finishing this task. This new situation with Molly is nice – she can check on him, talk to him, sit with him around the fire at night and listen to everyone laugh and talk together. She doesn’t have to worry about him while she’s gone. She knows that he could call on her if he was really in trouble. But she still likes having something to look forward to at the end of her tasks, something to point her feet towards and go with purpose. She likes going back to where Mollymauk is. She may not have a place to call home anymore, but going towards Molly always feels right. Outside the tent, Gustav calls his name. All of Molly’s things are packed, and it’s time to move on. Yasha presses a quick kiss into the soft purple curls between Molly’s horns. “I’m here if you need me,” she says softly. “Always.” Molly leans into her for a moment, warm and lanky and comforting. “Be safe, you,” he mutters. Then she is by herself again, leaning against a tree in the brightening daylight. But she’s still smiling.

[obannthepunished]

notes this week are shite yall youve been warned

mostly commets to myself ngl, (*) is irrelevant to anyone but me its just things I think I could bounce off of or that I found purrticularily interesting

Nott tries to water walk, fails, gets attacked by an octopus Jes and Caleb BOTH roll 1s for initiative

"Umbrella Fuck"

Fjord gets octopus'd Beau beats the shit out of him but it just fucks up the octupus lmao Molly carves him out of it.

Ashley: "-'Cause I'm a light bearer?" (Yasha drop???)

Another one hits caleb, my baby!!! No!!! Beau monk shits jumps from one boat to the other and finishes off the octopus Calebs hair is slicked back with blood

Fucking earth elementals

Yasha and Jester are stronk and row away too quick to be caught

Beau: "I'm always a fan of going down" (*)

Caleb puts his hands on Molly's shoulders to use frumpkins vision Molly, aside from being kinda shocked, just kinda pats his hand??? i felt my heart twitch i dont think thats meant to be possible

Nott hits a trap and gets shot in the thigh

Nott disarms 1.3 traps, Yasha gets hit with two more bolts Beau hangs back like a dumbass and gets hit but manages to deflect most of the damage, just stabbed in the chest a bit

Theres a puzzle with symbols for the eight schools of magic (Fjord + Beau figureout the symbols), a triangular plinth with a hole in the middle that goes down a foot and a half Fjord tries to feel inside the (inch and a half) hole for grooves and finds none, it's a platform

Jester confirmed good at finding holes.

Molly: (To jester) Do you have any healing cantrips? [...] it's for this one (gestures @ Yasha)

Nott, disarming traps, gets shot through her thumb into her wrist. Owchies.

Beau: Yeah, you might need opposable thumbs. Nott: HEY! It's too soon.

Caleb puts a hand on Beau's shoulder this time, and SHE puts her hand over his and i am crying because everyone cares about Caleb (*)

Art gallery??? (OOC liam: ooohh no this is some dragon lair shit)

upper chamber: "a relief in the centre of the chamber" one torso two faces, empty circular eyes. Chains from ceiling affixed to a red clay urn- about a footish square, a foot off the ceiling Faint glimmer of something metallic in the rock slide on the other side of the room Metallic shine is vaguely magical- abjuration magic. (Abjuration is NEVER good!!! oh its protective BULLSHIT ive only ever seen abjuration used for evil, cept counterpell) (Later retcon, Jester uses sanctuary on Nott during a battle so I have to eat my own words.) its a rod. copperish. Clay urns in acorn alcoves, three urns

inside the urn in one alcove, it is half full of ash. Yasha wedges it out with her sword.

Fjord pulls the magic rod free

"The circus bouncer" im amused

little glowing orb goes for Yasha and Nott nat 20s it as immediately as possible lmao, Nott 28 points it before Yasha can be hurt. they deal lightning damage, which was retconned out.

Beau punches a ghost. it has resistance. Resistance to cold damage too Beau punches the ghost again gods i love this.

yasha necrotic damages it. this seems very important?

Molly smashes the urn from the alcove on his side of the room, the will-o-the-wisp disappears

Caleb scorching rays the remaining two urns and makes a cool explosion. "Oh shit, that's hot!" (like fire hot)

"I FEEL GUILTY FOR HAVING NEEDS" Nott

Fjord puts coins in the eyes of the two heads on the torso and the relief and it collapses, Nott JUST manages to catch him with a Featherfall spell amorphous floor, heavy smell of decay, dust, and ash, long rotting clothing. Charred bones. Yasha drops the torch down. Caleb heads down the rope They find a little bottle of something or other, i missed some of it bc my internet pissed itself (The bottle is a potion that provides resistance to necrotic damage)

Shmidt puts the rod into the hole downstairs does nothing

"Beau?" "Yeah?" "Can you... punch this?" (trying to get the glowy purple rock out of the cage) (she does)

"Is that your new nickname? Simple tool?" M "... yknow what, that's fair" B

jesters mad she was right about using magic on the rod

Jester necrotic damages the rod, theres a slithering sound. oh god. the pillar opens and gives an enemy- a gelatinous cube??

New caleb spell: Maximillian's Earthern Grasp

Beau to yasha: DO WE JUST SLAP JELLO? Yasha to BEau: I THINK?

Beau punches it and her hand goes numb Yasha cuts a whole section off of it!!!

Acid damage for yasha owie Beau decks it again, TWO WHOLE FUCKING NUMB HANDS beauregard you dumbass

THE CUBE KNOCKS OUT JESTER D:::

Yasha fucking kicks its ass lmao

Fjord gives Jester a healing potion + she wakes up talking about oskar cause of course she is

"if anything starts to happen, I want you to run for the door." - Molly to Jester

A false wall opens, smell of old decay, i missed the rest. Burnt hair?

Liam actually doing the hand gestures for the spell in the background is actually my sexual orientation.

Nott: HOW AND WHEN WILL I DIE Yasha: I cant tell you that nott Nott: BUT YOU KNOW Yasha: ... yes, of course. Nott: (SHOCKED EXPRESSION)

Beau: Caleb. I love you. But we are missing out on some shit right now. Caleb: That's sweet thank you (*)

caleb finds a book its a journal in draconic from Siff Duthar (sp) about a war, weakness of flesh and the neex to endure beyond. the TLDR is that they wanna be a lich lets be honest Siff lost his legs to a  spyyy??? who was then burnt. Saved by a bounty hunter? fuck the gods? i dont process a lot at once and i was eating so i couldnt transcribe all must come to ash, and from the ashes will rise again

its getting cold in the room, their breath is visible now.

Dark ghostly shadow thing comes up from near the circle, not teleporting just appearing. molly sees light in one of the urns.

[polyphoniie-a]

@wiidogasted

CALLED OUT!

INSULTED!

SLANDERED!

[critical-derolo]

critical drabbles 4

As far as ideas go, this is probably one of Jester's worse ones.

To be fair, when one has as many ideas as the tiefling does, there are bound to be some duds. And Jester has a lot of ideas. To be even more fair, even Jester's horrible ideas generally tend to somehow work out, and so Beau doesn't immediately turn tail and run after Jester rambles off her diabolical plot.

"Uh... I don't know, Jes," she mutters uncertainly, nails digging into the back of her neck. What a damn fool. This is literally everything you've ever wanted. "Seems... dishonest."

Purple eyes roll up to the sky in such a dramatic fashion that it eases the tension in Beau's gut. "Oh my gods, Beau, of course it's dishonest. It's literally dishonest. So, you want to makeout with me or not?"

"A compelling argument," the monk laughs. Jester's playful grin fades into something more of a pout and Beau groans. "Fucking fine, if it'll get us off this street."

"Cool, cool, cool. What colour do you wanna be?"

"I dunno, blue? Do you know if Fjord is coming down this street anyway?" Before Beau gets a reply, she feels her skin itch and shift. The chilly shiver run down her spine, and the burn of her muscles. She blinks and looks down at the red skin, her tail swishing around her ankles, and feels the scruff on her chin. "I said blue?! And this is the same dude Caleb made me, he's gonna know!"

"Okay but have you seen how blue your eyes are against the red?" Jester challenges and already her fingers run along Beau's chest where the robes fall open now that her boobs are gone. "And I made some differences, you look less like you and more like a stranger. As long as he doesn't see your eyes."

"What if he does?"

Jester's tail slaps her thigh, dangerously close to her ass, and Beau jolts in place. "Beau, nobody has their eyes open during a romantic kiss. During any kiss. Do you kiss with your eyes open?"

It's not something she ever considered before, and tries to think back. Her tail swishes thoughtfully and Jester giggles. "Shit, I don't know. Is that weird? Fuck, can you send a message to Keg after this and ask?"

"Or I could just tell you after."

"Oh, right."

"Are you okay, Beau?" Jester finally asks. She laces their fingers together, bold blue against a burning red, nothing but concern shining up at the monk. "You seem flustered, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. We don't have to do this."

"No, what? I'm fine. Seriously, it's nothing at all. Maybe I'm nervous? I don't usually kiss friends." Beau shrugs her shoulders, her trademark cocky grin hooking onto her face. Inner turmoil be damned, she's drop kicking butterflies left and right. Fucking dumbass heart.

Purple threatens to burn right through her, Jester's eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "Okaaaay, if you're sure." There's a moment, a lull, as if she's waiting an extra second for Beau to back out... before she blinks and flashes a big smile. "Do we need to go over the plan one more time?"

"I'm a monk of the Cobalt Soul, you don't need to go over the very simple plan again."

"So Fjord comes down the street with Nott who knows just where and when to stop while she 'decides' where they go next," Jester explains and ignores Beau's huff and amused grin. "That's when he will catch sight of me but, oh no, I'm not even paying attention because this handsome, roguish man has just swept me off my feet in a passionate, romantic kiss that is so spectacular it makes Fjord combust with jealousy!"

Beau makes less than enthused jazz hands, darting back out of the way of Jester's playful punch. "Careful, Bruiser. Too much damage and I revert back."

"Whatever, Beau." Her eyes linger, trailing the defined outline of Beau's new profile. "Can you kiss super romantic?"

"Fuck yeah."

Her eyebrow raises skeptically.

And Beau points a red finger at her. "Wiggle that back down, I'm a fantastic kisser, Jes. You'll see." Or maybe I'll pass out before we make contact. Life is a gamble.

"Okay but we should - oh, there they are! Beau, flip your robes!"

"What? He knows what they - hey!"

A frantic mess of blue and dress, Jester tugs the robes down away from Beau's chest to loop around her waist, yanking a shirt from her haversack to literally then yank down on Beau. Her newly black curls bounce atop her head, tangled in her horns, her blue eyes disoriented, and Jester can't help but laugh into the kiss she drags her friend down in.

To her credit, Beau recovers fast. That can be said for just about every aspect of Beau's life, she learnt how to roll with the punches at a very young age. Physical and metaphorical ones. It's still not quite enough to prepare her for kissing Jester, however, not enough to keep her grounded when lips that taste like blueberries brush against her own. There's a hesitant awkwardness there and Beau can feel her own creeping up but... but this is for Jester. This is what she wants. And Beau has never been able to say no to Jester.

So she raises a hand to brush her rough fingertips along a soft jaw, dragging them back around Jester's neck to tangle in her hair. There's a surprised and muffled noise that the tiefling makes before she melts into Beau, before chilly hands grip her thighs. Jester is clumsy - rough and strong with her uncertainty, and gods, Beau hates how much she loves that. She has to swallow her own groan and instead nip at Jester's plump bottom lip, grinning at the giggle it produces.

But no.

This is serious.

This is passionate.

This isn't for you.

Beau steps forward, starts dipping Jester back and grunts when Jester digs her fingers into Beau's hips. She flicks her tongue against Jester's lip, ignoring the burst of stars and galaxies behind her eyes, desperately trying not to drown in the fucking strawberries she tastes.

This girl is literally made up of sweetness. Ioun help her.

When fingers leave her hips to dig into her back, when she feels herself reach the tipping point, standing on the edge with her toes hanging over... Beau steps back. Pulls back and takes a deep, steadying breath. Tells her heart to calm the fuck down before it jumps up out of her throat.

Jester's eyes are still closed when Beau opens hers, her curly lashes fluttering before amethyst peaks up at her, a purple tint to those blue cheeks.

"Told you," Beau croaks and clears her throat. Fuck, it's hot outside. Or inside. Or maybe it's the tiefling body? Does red mean hot? "Told you I can kiss."

"Mhmm," Jester hums and blinks a few times. "That was..."

"The fuck?!" Beau gasps and stumbles forward into Jester. She cranes her neck back to look down beside them, at the blue and red swirl their tails have become. "I, uh, whoops. I dunno how to untangle that."

It takes a moment, where Jester just stares at their tails. Such a far away look on her face - only for a second, before she blinks and grins and twirls away from Beau until their tails separate. "That was weird!"

"Does it not happen a lot?" Beau wonders. She's always been curious about Jester's tail and how deft it is.

Jester shrugs. "No. I don't know. My momma used to tell me a story about twirling tails."

It's unusual enough when Jester doesn't dissolve into the rambling story that Beau frowns lightly. "Well?"

"Oh, never mind that. It's silly."

"Since when has something being silly ever stopped you from doing or saying it?"

A blue finger is pointed her way. "That's fair but - Fjord!" Jester gasps and holds her hands to her face. "Did he see? Is he looking?"

Beau lifts her head - and Jester drags her face back down, so close Beau thinks they're about to kiss again. "What?" she asks when they don't.

"He'll recognize your eyes, you can't look!"

This is getting ridiculous. "Then why didn't you change them?"

"They're too pretty, Beau, now peek over my shoulder slowly." Beau has to clench her jaw, trying to block out the intoxicating scent of lavender and Jester, to peek over her shoulder. Her gaze doesn't even make it across the street before she can feel Jester grinning. "Beauregard," she sings softly. "You're blushiiiing!"

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No."

"Yes."

Beau sighs and steps back, straightening up again. "They're gone. I don't know if he saw, Jes. Sorry."

The whole thing doesn't feel half as good as it did a few minutes ago, not when Jester spins to look across the street with a crestfallen look on her face. "Oh," she says quietly. "Oh. Okay, that's okay. I'm sure he saw. I'll just have to ask Nott later."

Something awkward lingers between them and Beau's fingers twitch before she reaches out to touch Jester's shoulder. "You okay?"

"Hm? Oh, of course! Of course, Beau, I'm great!" she chirps and lifts up onto her toes. "And thank you for helping me, I know it was a little unusual."

"'s fine," Beau mumbles. Blows a curl out of her eyes and lifts her hand to try and fix it. "You gave me a lot of hair."

"Sometimes when you let your hair out of the bun, it's like a wave of tumbling curls," Jester says around a smile. "You don't look like Beau, but you're still Beau. Just the tiefling version."

The monk snorts and crosses her arms, a very different feeling without boobs. "So he totally would have recognized me then."

"No, Beau!"

With a flick of her tail and a flash of her tongue, Beau pinches Jester's cheek and takes off down the street when she gives chase.

[ijltln]

For the dnd questions 1-12 and then 16 those were my favorites

NEAT okay i’m answering for Cupcake, Tyrla, Sigrunn, Sparrowhawk, and Cadence

1. What influenced or inspired the creation of this character?Cupcake - ngl i was inspired by Critical Role and Beauregard to make a cool badass monk, but i wanted the monk to have like. a really sweet innocent name and look. you’d see them and be all “aw they’re cute and can’t hurt me” but then bam. cupcake knocks u tf outTyrla - i saw some art and designs of yuan-ti characters and was like. “yes” and then i was reading about druids and was like “YES” and then i found the swamp druid and was at the ultimate Yes. and then i chanted swamp snake for daysSigrunn - i love dwarves. she was honestly inspired by both dragon age and by Gimli from Lord of the Rings. and then the barbarian bc i love barbarians :’) (and it reminded me a lot of my dragon age dwarves)Sparrowhawk - she was inspired by a lot; her name was inspired by both capt. jack sparrow (i love) and hawke from dragon age, but in personality and looks she is like neither of those. i read about the drow elves and was like “yes,” but i wanted her to be a Revolutionary and a Badass. she’s so great and i dont even know how i created her character to be so amazing but here she is, legendary drow assassin, leader of many revolutions and rebellionsCadence - i was inspired by both Jester and Mollymauk on critical role and wanted a tiefling so, Cadence was born. i read more about tieflings and how they get a lot of Shit from other people so i was like “u kno what. he’s gonna be famous. hes gonna be a hella famous bard and he’s gonna be revolutionary in his own right bc he’s changing people’s racist opinions of tieflings, he’s letting transphobes and homophobes know they’re stupid, and he’s such a smart sweet dude. i love”

2. What is your character’s relationship with their family? Family is a word which here refers to biological relatives, close companions, and/or the individual(s) who raised them.Cupcake - it is. Not Good right now. after Cupcake came out as nonbinary, their entire family and clan outcasted them. they’ve been on the run for months now, and they’re pissed. they want revenge and they want to prove that Eldath (the god they worship) still loves them. as for Cupcake’s new companions, they’re alright. Cupcake quickly befriends Cadence and Sigrunn, but they are a little wary of the others (until way later in the campaign). also, upon meeting Tyrla, they like, immediately hit it off and become best friends.Tyrla - she has an excellent relationship with her family. like, out of all of them, she has the most stable and Good relationship with her family. She’s very close with her parents, her granny, her younger brother. she’s also close with her clan in general; since she’s a druid, she’s close to nature and she feels like the swamp was an extension of her family (all the living things in it). her pet spider is constantly with her (usually hiding in her pocket or on her shoulder, sometimes on her bun). and her newfound family - she likes Zedarr, he is like a friendly big brother; she doesn’t get along with Toobu at all; Kalor is okay, she supposes; when they meet up with Sparrowhawk and the others, she instantly likes Cupcake who is also very in-tune with nature.Sigrunn - well, her father exiled her from the noble throne after erasing her memories so it’s Not Good. She was closest to her brother Eldric (who will be Important Later in the campaign), but the rest of her brothers and 1 sister she was just on meh terms with. now, her family is the Redbeard Pirate Crew, and she’s very attached to them. Capt. Redbeard is like, an older brother figure to her, and the former Capt. Redbeard was like an adoptive father to her. She also greatly admires Sparrowhawk, she loves Cadence like a brother, and she already loves Cupcake a lot (something about her story seems so familiar, but why? :D)Sparrowhawk - was an orphan; she has no family to speak of really, tho she had former “owners” after she was sold into slavery (blech). After escaping slavery and making a name for herself as a criminal and revolutionary, she finds a family in her criminal/revolutionary/assassin/spy crew, the Silver Talon Mercenary Crew. She befriends Sigrunn and Cadence, and she’s close to both of them; she also becomes close to Kreth after he saves her life. She loves her pet mouse more than anything in the world, though.Cadence - had a mother that he was extremely close to; he technically has a father too, but he was a Dick Noble Human that didn’t wanna admit he had a tiefling lover so Whatever. Cadence’s mom was like, the best mom ever: she helped him follow his dreams of being a musician even tho they were hella poor, she (accidentally) bought him a powerful magical lyre, she 100% accepted him when he transitioned, and she supported his decision to travel and become Famous, she also hardcore rooted for him and his dream to become a writer. but then his mom was killed while he was in prison (briefly) and his lyre was stole and he is absolutely Devastated. Sparrowhawk is like, the sister he never had, and Sigrunn is one of his bestest friends (and also a sister he never had). He also befriends Kreth when they meet back up with Sparrowhawk, bc Kreth looks like he has Seen Some Shit and needs a shoulder to lean on, bc holy hEck does Cadence know the pain of seeing ur loved ones murdered

3. Who is the closest person to them?Cupcake - at the beginning of the campaign it was Sigrunn and Cadence, bc they both agreed to help so quickly after hearing their story. Then, they are close to Sparrowhawk, bc she promises to help them take down their transphobic Asshole society. Cupcake is best friends with Tyrla tho - they both love sweet foods, they both prefer nature to people and hate talking, and Tyrla is so cute and sweetTyrla - beginning of campaign, she is closest to Zedarr bc he was the one that was Not a dick to her after charging into her swamp (and bc she felt bad about shooting him); he’s like, a big brother tho and he’s so nice and funny. then, she and Cupcake meet and they are Best Friends Forever, but really Tyrla is friends with everyone (except Toobu, who is just an absolute dick to everyone).Sigrunn - she’s closest to Capt. Carniro Redbeard, Sparrowhawk, and Cadence. She and Kreth are pretty chill friends too (she often requires healing bc she’s one of the team’s tanks), she absolutely adores Zedarr bc he’s hilarious and they both carry this team, goddammit, and she likes Kalor and his wife (she often states they are her otp)Sparrowhawk - is closest to Sigrunn, Cadence, and Kreth. she also appreciates Kalor, thinks he would be useful in her mercenary crew. She also feels the most empathy for ToobuCadence - he’s closest to Sigrunn and Sparrowhawk, and he’s also really close to Cupcake and Tyrla, and he also really likes Kreth. Cadence can get along with pretty much anyone, tbh (except racist and/or homophobic/transphobic assholes)

4.  What were the conditions surrounding their formative years?oh god. i already wrote their backstories on that document. i am Not gonna rewrite that all here bc that was 4633 words (if anyone else is interested in their backstories, hmu)

5. What creature would they like to have as a pet?Cupcake - they would love a hedgehog, or a birdTyrla - she loves ALL ANIMALS AND CREATURES but she currently has a pet spider named Madam Sinclair. (shes had pet lizards and snakes too, and a turtle)Sigrunn - her fav would probably be a fish of some kind to remind her of her love for the ocean. although maybe a parrot would be cool, once she’s captain of her own pirate ship, so she can be like the most Cliche Pirate everSparrowhawk - she has a cute pet mouse named Dirt that she loves more than anything; she’s had other pet mice before, and once she actually did have a carrier hawk that delivered messages to her crew for herCadence - cats. always and 100%, the answer is Cats

6. Do they have any bad habits?Cupcake - yeah, they mcfuckin hate talking and social situations; whenever they’re upset they tend to punch things rather than talk it out; they are also very obsessive about their goals. Tyrla - no, she’s an absolute angel. jk - one flaw: she is not very social and not very trusting of others, but like, that’s just common sense soSigrunn - oh god. so many. in port towns, she goes on many tavern crawls and gets into brawls (her, Cadence, and Capt. Redbeard call it her infamous Tavern Crawl and Brawls), she drinks more than she should, she cusses so much (make a sailor blush my ass she’s a PIRATE), she does most things out of spite (you can’t do that, Sigrunn! “WATCH ME”), she gambles a lot, flirts with practically anybody (especially to get herself out of trouble), and she’s a bit of an insomniac bc she has really bad nightmares AND she gets these awful visions (repressed memories) that she loves to avoid. Also, she hates dry land now that’s been on the sea so longSparrowhawk - she has a Lot too. she often hides food and trinkets (hoarding), steals shit, she’ll do just about anything (within her moral code) for gold, she also swears a lot, she picks at her nails and skin sometimes and she’s constantly tapping her fingers (she has OCD, like me), she also has anger issues like, once she’s pissed, prepare to be stabbed 417 times. (tho it takes a lot to piss her off)Cadence - yes; he calls racist and homophobic/transphobic assholes out even at the cost of his own life (ur like “that’s not a bad habit!” but it is if like. ur tryna keep a low profile due to ur prior criminal record and people would Not Hesitate to kill you bc ur a tiefling: it’s important later). he also adopts like every stray cat he meets. and he sings. a lot. He’s a terrible singer (he’s more of an instrumentalist and storytelling bard) but he sings, especially when stressed

7. Is there anyone they’d die for? Kill for? short answer, for all 9 of them: yes. all of them have at least 1 person they’d die for, and all of them have someone they’d kill for. Except for Toobu; she would not die for anyone in this campaign, but she would kill for at least 1 person. :)

8. Who was their first love?Cupcake - it was like, a middle school crush on one of the other children in their tribe when they were a child. but then they became a Priestess, and they took a vow of abstinence and swore to focus their only love on the goddess EldathTyrla - in a nontraditional sense, it was a wounded alligator she and her granny rescued. it was her granny, her family, her clan, her swamp. but in a romantic sense, it was Cupcake, tbhSigrunn - she literally does not remember (bc her memories were wiped). but from her new life, it was Sparrowhawk (she has a lotta love for Capt. Redbeard and for Cadence, but its a different kind of love)Sparrowhawk - During the time she spent with the last Master she belonged to, there was another slave that Sparrow thought she loved; then, during her time in the criminal society, she fell in love with a bardbarian half-orc woman who literally swept her off her feet. Sparrowhawk, being an elf, outlived her first love tho. so now shes kinda fallen in love with SigrunnCadence - it was a super cute dwarf he met while he was a bard in the high courts. it didn’t last long tho

9. How would this character react to someone confessing their love for them?Cupcake - she would not know how to react, really. she’s not good with social things, especially affection. she’d probably like, run away and punch a tree, then come back later and tell them “thank you”Tyrla - she’d blush so much and then stammer out something embarrassing bc she’s an awkward mess, but it would make her entire YEAR Sigrunn - she’d flirt back and if it was someone she loved as well, she’d probably start planning a marriage proposal (and she’d also probably hook up with them. i’m ngl)Sparrowhawk - if she can use it to her advantage somehow, that’s probably what she’d do first, bc she’s a criminal and spy. But if it was someone she truly cared for, she’d probably like. hug them and tell them she loves them tooCadence - it depends on what kinda love ur talkin about. His fans confessing their love of him? no big, he’d give them his signature, maybe tell them a story, etc. But if it’s like, someone telling him they love him romantically, he’d probably swoon and freeze, then try to suavely flirt back (he’s an awkward lil shit tho so it’d be awkward flirting), then like, kiss them on the forehead if its someone he loves as well

10. How old is this character?Cupcake - 42, and they’re a gnome so that’s basically like, 20ish in human yearsTyrla - 27Sigrunn - 100ish (she doesn’t remember exactly)Sparrowhawk - 130ish (she also doesn’t know an exact year, bc she was born an orphan and grew up on the streets)Cadence - 28

11. Are they normally peaceful or aggressive?Cupcake - tries to be peaceful, but gets aggressive very easilyTyrla - peaceful, unless u startle her and she shoots u with an arrow (sorry Zedarr and Toobu)Sigrunn - aggressive. Barbarian, remember? and a pirate. she can be laidback thoSparrowhawk - she tries to be peaceful first, and she can stay pretty calm, but once she’s pissed, you’ve unleashed literal Hell on EarthCadence - very peaceful. he’s the main peacekeeper in the party, oftentimes. 

12. How does this character handle stress?Cupcake - punching things and/or overeating sweet foods; also, they will pray to Eldath and try to meditate if its Really Bad StressTyrla - she’ll like, fuck off to the middle of nowhere and just. chill with nature until she’s calm again. Madam Sinclair will also usually make an appearance, and do weird things until Tyrla is laughing againSigrunn - she goes swimming if they’re around water; if they’re not around water, she usually gets WASTED during a Tavern Crawl and Brawl (it’s not a good coping method); but sometimes when neither of those things work she’ll start building shit (she is proficient with smith’s tools) or cleaning her greataxeSparrowhawk - she’ll hold Dirt (the mouse) and if that don’t work, she’ll usually go pick-pocketing and try to steal some cool shit. playing cards with Sigrunn also helps; if all else fails, she’ll start obsessively cleaning and sharpening her short swordsCadence - he writes until he feels calmer; he’ll sometimes play his lute. also, if there’s cats nearby, he pets them until he feels better

16. If they could instantly kill one person in the world without consequence, who would it be?Cupcake - the High Priestess that cast them out from society and told them Eldath no longer loved themTyrla - hm. that’s a good question. She doesn’t really? have anyone she wants to kill??? i mean maybe the asshole Fiend that tried destroying her swamp but she already killed them soSigrunn - the asshole naval captain that killed the first Capt. Redbeard (Captain Bhalgrun Redbeard) who was like, a father figure to her. Unless she still had her memories, then it would probably be her actual fatherSparrowhawk - only one person? probably the last “Master” she had. maybe the assholes that kidnapped her and sold her into slavery? so many terrible nobles???Cadence - the person that killed his mother, stole his lyre, and cut off his arm. no doubt

[polyphoniie-a]

Beau, seeing people talkin shit about her in other threads:

( @tex-blades @readsfortunes )

[polyphoniie-a]

Marisha/Beau pulling her feet up on her chair when she’s super excited about something reblog if you agree.