#TODAY'S THE DAY THE SUN IS SHINING THE NEIN ARE HERE

[essektheylyss]

it's THURSDAY and you know what that means? Mighty Nein sock time (for realsies edition)

[deralpi]

It seems as though we have to make our own content for a while. Here is my contribution to easing the pain of the hiatus: A Beaujester conversation, but the angst is turned up to eleven.

Hold me close, then let me go [1570 words]

The early dawn sun slanted through the single window. In its rays, dust particles floated in the air, puffed up by life slowly stirring awake. Because of the room’s angular layout, the light illuminated barely half of it; the other half depicted a still dark corner, in which stood an ordinary bed. And on its overused mattress, tucked under layers of blankets, lay one blue tiefling, still deep in slumber.

One would think that the wealth of the Might Nein would ensure them only upper-class lodging for the rest of their days, but once in awhile stakes were too high and discretion was judicious. 

And discretion you paid for with dignity, not coin. 

Three ramshackle rooms for two people each, while one had the pleasure of sleeping alone. In and of itself no unpleasant circumstances, if anything it prompted Beau to reminisce about their earlier beginnings. The debasing part was the creepy innkeeper, whose leer Beau would’ve already wiped off his face if they weren’t trying to stay low. She still almost did it just to quench her mounting agitation.

Beau would call herself a fundamentally angry person. With it came the responsibility to control herself, so innocent bystanders didn’t become first-hand witnesses to her wraith. Beau would wager — though she wasn’t too sure — that that anger had been her primal incentive which had pushed her into martial arts. The excruciating pain of a harsh work-out was an outlet, a way to inflict pain on herself so it wouldn’t be directed at others. Such daily exercises had proven sufficient in containing herself.

At least usually, that was.

For days now Beau has felt frustration churning inside her, putting her on edge. And with each consecutive dream filled with loss, she awoke angrier. 

With her legs folded under her, Beau desperately sought the comfort of deep meditation. All with no success. The harder she tried to calm herself the angrier she became. Suddenly, without her control — as she had feared — her fist crashed into the wall beside her, the wood crackling as it gave way. Beau held the pose, shock suddenly settling in. What is wrong with me? Her body began to shiver despite herself.

“Is everything alright?”

Beau didn’t look at her. Carefully, she withdrew her hand and let it drop into her lap; with the other she began to rub her eyes as if she had just woken up as well, cloaking her unshed tears. “Yes. Go back to sleep. It is still early.” Even to herself, her voice sounded mechanical.

A pregnant pause settled between them. Then, Beau heard the shuffling of the bedding and the tapping of soft footfalls until a pair of blue feet entered her peripheral. Beau didn’t have to see her to know that she was studying the impact beside her, a large dent of shattered wood and tiny splinters with red tips where they had bitten her skin. 

Jester plopped down on her knees in front of her, took Beau’s wounded hand in hers and uttered a few indistinct words. Soothing energy like a soft caress flowed through her skin and expunged her pain. 

Only then did Beau allow herself to look at her for the first time. Jester was a surprisingly restless sleeper, the result of which was a persistent mop of hair after waking that could only be tamed by a long bath. Beau had gone out of her way to poke fun at it, to fashion a plausible reason that would explain her uncontrollable, affectionate grin at the sight of it.

“What is going on, Beau?” Beau hated how much softness she put into her name.

“I don’t know. Nothing and everything, I guess.” It was the truth, though Jester would undoubtedly interpret it as another deflection.

Jester folded her legs, situating herself in front of Beau like a prettier mirror. Her eyes were devoid of any residual drowsiness. Intensity and focus shining within them. It meant that she wouldn’t let this one fly. Jester was naive in many regards, but she was also clever; frustratingly so. Though she had blatantly no clue as to why Beau behaved awkwardly around her, she noticed it and knew how to use it to her advantage. She knew that she only had to sit there and say nothing; the arising uneasiness would tickle a response out of Beau.

It worked like a charm.

“I can’t lose any of you.” Especially not you, Beau was about to add, but she couldn’t. Because it was neither true nor wrong. Every single one of them had accepted her and helped her become the woman she was today and she loved them dearly for it; but losing Jester would be the thing that would truly break her. “I simply can’t.”

“You won’t.”

“But that is a lie, isn’t it?” Beau zoned in on her. “Do you remember what you have said to me? On the boat? That I can become a pirate captain when this is all over?” She paused. “When. Not if.”

Jester’s face convulsed as if recognition had slapped her across the face.

“It’s fine. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m not dumb. I’m not deluding myself into believing that this-” Beau swung her arms wide, indicating the space around her “will last forever. One day we will scatter in all directions, visiting each other only occasionally. Time runs its course and that’s how it ought to be. I just—” Beau fell silent.

“You what?” Jester asked, stretching to lay a hand on her knee. 

Beau lifted herself to her feet abruptly and began to pace the room, kicking up dust. She heard Jester harrumph behind her.

“Listen, Beau,” she said. “Eventually we are going to part ways, yes. I’m also not kidding myself. But neither you nor I know when this separation will knock on our door. For all we know we could be hitting the road together five years from now. Please, don’t allow your fear of the moment where we part to ruin the time we are still together.”

Beau stopped in her tracks. It was self-evident that Jester meant the entire group, but Beau suddenly realized what her issue was; at least part of it. Why does there have to be a timer on our relationship? Why do I have to end up alone, if all I want is to be by her side forever?

“A part of me can not let you go.” Beau looked over at Jester. The rising sun touched her frame. She looked lovely. “The other part thinks I have to.”

A brief quizzical look passed over Jester’s face before anger began to mold it. She jumped to her feet and stamped on the ground for emphasis. “Don’t you dare act dramatic right now. Not ever again. I will not have it!” Beau knew immediately what she was referring to. The Hag’s deal.

Somebody behind Beau knocked on their door. A second later, Fjord’s muffled voice filtered through the wood. “Everything alright?”

Beau flinched. She hated that question. “Everything’s fine. Order breakfast without us; we’re following suit once we’re ready. If I find no bacon on my plate I have to kick somebody’s face in.”

The sound of shuffling boots clanged down the corridor until there was complete silence. With her face half turned towards the door, Beau let her head drop. “We’ll talk later, okay?” She waited a moment for a response, but when no came, she loosened the door latch. 

“What is wrong, Bea—?” Jester cried, a sob choking her out before she could finish saying her name.

Beau was stopped in her tracks once more. Admit it and she will break your heart. Walk away and you will break hers. 

Suddenly, the choice became very easy.

Beau stayed faced towards the door, unable to look at her teary-eyed face while she said it. “I love you, Jester.”

“I love you, to—”

“No, Jester,” Beau interrupted, her heart hammering against her ribcage. “I love you.” 

 A gasp escaped Jester’s mouth. Then, the room went quiet. Beau stood still, wringing her hands nervously. I should’ve had something prepared. The accrued anger and frustration suddenly turned on her. The three most powerful words a person can utter, and out of my mouth, they sound pathetically weak. I should’ve confessed with a heartfelt speech after a grandiose dinner in our most stunning attire with a bouquet of disgustingly beautiful flowers in my hand under the golden sunlight at twilight. 

Not here. Not ever.

Beau glimpsed over her shoulder. Jester’s eyes were wide open, her mouth aghast, her posture stiff. An exemplary image of unbridled shock. Beau never would’ve thought that she would be the one who would manage to strike Jester speechless. In any other situation, she would’ve grinned. In this one, she opened the door. 

“I’m sorry,” she said on her way out.

Did Beau really want to hear what Jester would say? Wasn’t it better to keep up the illusion that nothing had happened, that she didn’t just ruin their friendship? Just a few more hours where her heart would stay intact; was that too much to ask for? 

Twice you have saved me from going down a dark path. What will happen now when such a situation occurs for the third time? Will you still be there to keep me in check?

Or has separation just knocked on our door?

[princessamericachavez]

sunlight | fjorester

Fjord goes to Jester after his last nightmare.

They have been staying in this new house for three days only but some things are beginning to feel like routine: Beau uses the training room before anyone else is awake and then greets them for breakfast, Caleb stays up in the library until ungodly hours, the house fills with the smell of tea every afternoon and the room to Jester’s room is always wide open. Fjord thinks it makes sense since she picked a spot high in a tower where no one usually passes by anyway, but there is something else about the gesture that seems oddly fitting to him. Still, he always tries to knock when he comes by to summon her for dinner or a group meeting, trying to respect her privacy.

Not today, though. Today, his knuckles stop inches shy from the door frame and he freezes there, looking at her. It’s not like he’s purposely spying on her, and it definitely has nothing to do with how pretty she looks with paint smudged on her face and the soft morning sun that comes in through her big windows framing her figure (today is one of the odd days that the Kyrnn allow light to reach the city, later they will go join their celebration of the Luxon to learn more about it), or because she just looks pretty like this. It’s not that at all, really. He just- He just doesn’t want to interrupt. 

She’s clearly busy, buzzing around from one wall to another, adding images to her new spaces, making it her own as she does with every room she steps into. She’s talking, too, chatting cheerfully with her god despite no one else being in the room. He’s only caught her talking to the Traveler a couple times before, this feels different. Fjord can’t quite put into words what it is about the whole scene that strikes a chord in him —that feels so different like he’s witnessing something no one else has had the privilege of seeing before. So he just leans against the doorframe and lets his eyes follow her around, as a fond smile tugs at his lips.

“Yes, yes, this will look so great, you’re gonna love it!” Jester says as she jumps over the bed to reach the opposite wall of the room. “I mean, I know we are probably not going to stay here, like, forever, you know? Because we have so many other things to do, but it’s kinda cool that we have a house again, don’t you think? And you can come to visit me more often and it will be just like old times. Well, almost, but better because we have more friends now. And also- oh, hi, Fjord!”

A smile shines across Jester’s face when her eyes land on him. He wonders if he should tell her about the strike of yellow across her cheek, but it looks nice on her so he decides against it.

“Have you been watching me paint?” She asks, tilting her head, and he could almost swear she sounds excited by the idea of him staring at her.

“No. I-I mean, yeah, but I just didn’t wanna interrupt,” he fumbles a little. “It was just for a couple minutes, really, not like I was trying to creep or anything, just-”

“It’s okay if you were,” she cuts him off, and he thinks she sounds breathless. Her eyes meet his for a longer moment than usual before a playful smirk takes over her features. “Though that wall was still fresh so you probably got your armor dirty.”

“What?” Fjord straightens and sees a pink smudge where his shoulder pad was touching the wall. “Oh, fuck.”

“You look like Caduceus, now,” Jester giggles.

Fjord rolls his eyes but can’t help but laugh with her.

“Did you want to see me?”

“Uh, yes, actually,” Fjord’s expression sobers up entirely as he remembers the reason for his coming here in the first place. “I was hoping we could have a word, in private.”

“Oh?” Jester, still smiling, wiggles her eyebrows at him. “You wanted to have a talk with me in my room all alone?”

He can feel his face burn at the implied suggestion in her tone. “Y-yeah, I guess. Or anywhere else really. I just- it’s something important.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Jester skips towards him, pulls him in with that unbelievable strength of hers, and closes the door shut. For a second, Fjord panics wondering if she might’ve gotten the wrong idea about his visit, but she only guides him towards a small table by the window and makes him sit down. “So, is this a secret?”

“Yeah, it is,” he nods, gathering courage. “I- I had another nightmare, the other day.”

“You had a new wet dream?!” 

Fjord closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. There we go again with the jokes. He should really be used to it by now with her. When he opens his eyes again, though, Jester’s face is scrunched up into a frown. When she speaks, her voice is unusually quiet.

“Did he- did he kill you again in your dream?”

Fjord nods. “Drowned me,” he deadpans and keeps the more gory details for himself because Jester doesn’t need to worry about that more than necessary.

“Maybe we can talk with Mister Clay about giving you some special sleeping tea,” she says quickly. “Or maybe Caleb or Nott have a spell against bad dreams? Or we could try to make like, something that keeps him out of your head? Maybe like a lead hat, like the box where we were keeping the Luxon thingy?”

He shakes his head through all of her ideas but lets her go on until she runs out of them.

“Thanks, Jester, but it’s not the dreams I’m worried about. It’s what happened after.”

“What... what happened after?” Jester leans over the table slightly, face twist with so much worry that he almost bails. Almost. But this is Jester, and not once has she judged him or made him feel like the sad little lost boy that he still feels like some days. She watches him intently and any lies his silver tongue might have woven melt away on the spot.

“I woke up and my sword was out on the floor. I couldn’t poof it back in or out like usual, and I- I didn’t have my powers. Nothing. Nada.”

He can see horror spread through her face.

“Oh, no, Fjord! Did you lose your magic?!”

“For a while, but it’s back now, I think,” he says, and invokes some eldritch energy to his hand to reassure her. To reassure himself. “But I don’t know how long it’ll last. If I don’t do what he wants, I think Uk’otoa can just take it all away, leave me with nothing.”

“So... do you want to open the third temple?” Jester asks.

Fjord is taken aback by her suggestion. He hasn’t even considered the possibility, knows all too well what is at risk and even in his worst moments of panic he wouldn’t trade the world’s safety for his hearts deepest desires. What shocks him is the way that she asks, honestly, and that he can read clear as day in her eyes that she would do it, she would come with him and doom the world if he asked. The realization almost terrifies him, but he can’t tell if it’s the possibility of them ending the world or the unmeasurable size of her loyalty.

“No, Jester,” he rolls his eyes as if she’d said something ridiculous. “I’m not going to end the world to save my powers.”

Her shoulders relax.

“That’s good... but what are we going to do, then, Fjord? I mean, technically, I guess, if you run out of magic you could learn how to fight. Like, Beau and Yasha don’t really have magic, you know? And Nott, does, a little, but she also uses a lot of her bows and stuff. Or maybe you could learn new magic! Like Caleb’s! Or maybe you can find a different god or-”

“Jester,” this time he cuts her off, voice heavy and resigned to reality, “I can’t do that to y’all. Without my powers I’m- I’m just a sailor. That’s it. I would be a liability, put y’all at risk. I’d just get in the way.”

“Fjord!” Jester drags his name and he pauses when he recognizes a dash of indignation in her tone. Her hand reaches out and grabs his over the table, blue paint-covered fingers squeezing his with reassurance. He looks down at their intertwined hands, and back at her. Her violet eyes are firm and her expression gentle. “You are our friend! We are not going to just leave you somewhere because you have a little problem with your god. And we don’t hang out together just because we can kick ass, even though that’s pretty darn cool, really. We are a family, right? We are the Mighty Nein! And you are one of us, powers or not.”

Fjord can feel hot tears knotting in his throat, choking out his voice. He can feel the fear that has been eating at his heart for the past three days twist inside him. He’s not worthy of her trust, of these friends, of this place. Anything he has he owes to the powers of a capricious god that could take it all away in a blink. As his mask falls apart and his face decomposes, he ducks his head to hide the emotions burning through him.

All he sees now is Jester’s hand covering his. He turns inside her grasp to hold on to her too and she responds with a squeeze.

“We’ll figure it out,” she says. “I promise, okay?”

He nods, still not looking up.

“I’ll ask the Traveler about it, too. He’s a god, right? So he probably knows a lot about this kind of stuff, probably, or maybe he could help you somehow.”

“I’d appreciate that,” he admits. He’s still unsure about her deity, but at this point, nothing could be worse than the tightrope he’s walking with his own.

It’s the second time she asks her god to intercede for him, too. Something about it, about her going to her own god for his sake, warms him... and having seen the miracles she can perform with the Traveler’s help, he’s not about to reject any kind of help.

“Jester,” he says, unsure of how long he’s been silent, “would you mind not-”

“Not telling the others?” She says at the same time.

Fjord finally looks up and finds her looking at him intensely, one eyebrow arched. He nods.

“Sure, Fjord... though I’m sure they would want to help too.”

“I don’t want to worry them for now. Not until I know more about this, at least.”

“Okay,” Jester whispers with a smile tainted by sadness.

“Thank you, Jester.”

“Of course, Fjord. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’ll- I’ll let you get back to your painting. Your room is looking great, by the way. It’s very nice.”

“Thanks!” She cheers up. “I could also paint your room later, if you want! I could add a lot of seamen and swords and balls to it!”

He barks a laugh, standing up. She’s messing with him, he knows it, and appreciates it —if anything because it breaks the tension that’s been building inside him through this whole conversation.

“Tell you what, I’ll think about it and I might take you up on your offer,” he chuckles. He’s mostly kidding, but part of him thinks it might be harder to wake up terrified of his god if Jester’s mark is all around his bedroom when he does.

He waves a quick goodbye and makes his way out of the room. As he opens the door,  Jester calls for him one more time.

“Fjord!”

He turns around to look at her. She’s standing in the middle of the room as if she’d been about to follow him out and stopped midway through.

“Everything will be alright,” she says, “I promise.”

She gives him a reassuring smile. Fjord takes it all in, the sunflower-yellow smudge across her left cheek, the confidence in her voice, the brightness of the room bathing her with sunlight, and he believes her. The horror clawing at his heart disappears like the shadows of the Xhorhasian eternal night did this morning under the power of the sun. It feels like he’s filled with clear blue skies and hope again. He trusts Jester Lavorre more than anyone in this world, after all. If she says things will turn out okay, he believes her wholeheartedly.

[delible-ink]

Is it Folsen Yet?

Prompt 6: Au’s/Class Swap Modern AU of our boys getting together. Friends to first date--plus a community garden!

It was tradition, a raucous ritual of sorts. None of them were certain exactly when it had started, but they knew it was Jester who dragged Beau out of their apartment, and who adopted the shy half-orc who was sitting alone at the bar that first night. The rest of them joined shortly after, through one connection or another. Seven friends, in pairs or trios, found themselves crammed into a booth each week, having drinking contests, talking about life, finding commonality and making space for each other.

Every Folsen, without fail, The Mighty Nein could be found at The Rooster and the Raven, or as Jester and Molly had affectionately renamed it, the Cock and Crow. They had earned their own nickname from someone mistaking Caleb’s Zemnian “no”, and a particularly poor showing at an ill-attempted trivia night. They hadn’t gone back for trivia again, but the name stuck.

It was the perfect place for them. Good coffee, excellent pastries and a shocking variety of booze in one spot, plus it was always open. It was the only place outside of Nicodranas that Jester could get her hot cocoa exactly the way she liked it--with heaps of cinnamon.

The Rooster and the Raven became home. They were here when Fjord got his first job captaining a fishing boat, here when Beau decided she was going to cut contact with her parents, even while trying to keep tabs on her little brother. Jester threw her 21st birthday party here, and still didn’t like any of the alcohol she tried, and Molly brought everyone here for drinks after he convinced the girls to get matching tattoos with him.

They were here before the car crash, when Molly was killed by a drunk driver, when they met Caduceus, a healer who was biking past, and who tried to save their bright, beautiful friend. They were here after the funeral, and Caduceus came because he felt connected to them. He’d been with Molly at the end. They stayed on into the early hours of the morning, and the owner didn’t mind, because they knew what had happened, and in a way, felt like they’d lost one of their children that night. They canceled everyone’s tabs.

Caduceus stuck around after that night, and the Mighty Nein adopted him eagerly. He had his first (and last) whiskey here. He drew up the plans here for a community garden with Yasha with a brilliant graffiti mural that would have made Molly proud. He was here when Caleb had finally told them all, half drunk and shaking like a leaf, about the boarding school, and his parents’ death, and how, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t accept that it wasn’t his fault. Nott had held Caleb’s hand the whole time. A couple quiet tears dripped from her cheeks as she listened to Caleb speak. She’d known the story for a while now, and it still broke her heart. Caduceus felt, not for the first time, a strong desire to pull Caleb close to his chest and just hold him. That night he’d settled for being allowed to put an arm around Caleb’s shoulders and tell him he was proud of him for talking about it.

It had been over a year since Molly died. Months since Caleb had told his friends about the past he kept so secret, and both he and Caduceus had noticed the changes. Caleb would buy Cad’s tea, even though he was usually more broke than the rest of them. He would insist. Caduceus would take the far corner of the booth, and Caleb would slide in next to him, and when he got drunk, he’d slump to the side, into Caduceus, and smile sheepishly when Cad put his arm around Caleb, steadying and warm. Caduceus walked Caleb home on those nights, helped him get out of his boots and into bed. Sometimes Caleb would ask him to stay, and his hand would linger on Caduceus’ cheek, his eyes shining like topaz, pale and bright. It stabbed deep into Caduceus’ chest. He couldn’t tell if Caleb saw a ghost in him, or if these were just feelings he was too afraid of to bring into the light. Whatever the case, Cad’s answer was always the same:

“Ask me again when you’re sober.”

He hoped that maybe, just maybe, one day he would. If he even remembered these moments.

Caleb remembered, he remembered everything, but he hadn’t ever gotten the courage to ask. Caduceus was too good for him, far too good. He deserved better than a trauma-busted orphan with trust issues and an arcane history degree, trying to scrape by on odd jobs.

After a month of that question and that answer, Caduceus decided on a different course of action than waiting and wondering. It was a crisp mid-autumn morning, and of course, it was Folsen. Caleb woke to a knock at his door. He threw on pants and a shirt, scrambling to answer, thinking up excuses for his late rent. He wasn’t expecting to be met by the warm, towering presence of Caduceus, bundled in a cozy sweater and an aqua scarf. “Hey there.”“C-Caduceus. Hi. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. I was just going to go to the garden, see how my pumpkins are coming along. Thought I’d see if you wanted to join.” Cad raised his eyebrows, a little nervous, a little hopeful, hands shoved in his pockets. His ears swished back and forth. Caleb felt his heart melt.

“Uh, um, ja. Just give me a minute. Come in. Gotta find my shoes.” Caduceus ducked into the doorway, made his way to the kitchen and leaned casually against the counter while Caleb scrambled to find clean socks. He tossed some water on his wild hair, trying to flatten it into something presentable. There was a very unruly cowlick he could do nothing about. Cad’s eyes followed him. He thought Caleb had never looked better.

“Sorry. I can’t remember where I put my scarf.”“Here.” Cad offered. He took his off, and wrapped it around Caleb.

“There. It matches your eyes.”

They stood there for a moment, Caduceus toying with the ends of the scarf before he let go with an awkward laugh.

“Let’s go see about those pumpkins, Ja?”

“Yeah. Pumpkins. Yes.” Caduceus couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as they walked, inhaling the brisk air, and stealing glances of the copper halo the sun cast around Caleb.

Caleb watched as Caduceus greeted his plants, running his fingers over the leaves of some, complementing the gourds and squash on their progress, checking the cabbages for slugs, and finally appraising the pumpkins. Caleb wished to be one of those plants, soaking up Caduceus’ radiance, his gentle caress, his kindness.  He blushed at the thought. Caduceus stood up, brushing the dirt from his hands onto his pants. “Well, they look very happy, but they’re not ready yet. I can take a butternut though. There’s one that’s ready for roasting.” He pointed. “Would you pick it for me?” Caduceus opened up his backpack, and Caleb nodded.

“I’ve never eaten butternut squash. Is it good?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful. I like to roast it with apples and pecans. I would love to make some for you. I think you’d like it.”

“Maybe at Jester’s next potluck?”

“Mm. Maybe. I was thinking sooner than that.” Caduceus put the bag over his shoulder again.“Could I make you dinner tonight?”

“Well, it’s Folsen. We’ve got to get to the Cock and Crow...I wouldn’t want to rush you...”

“I’ve got all day. Spending it with you seems like it’d be really nice.”

Caleb looked at his shoes, and his hair fell in his eyes.

“Caleb?” Caduceus reached out and tucked Caleb’s hair behind his ear, lifting his face up to meet his gaze. “Would you like that? To spend the day with me?”

Caleb couldn’t look away. That gentle, open expression Caduceus wore had him transfixed.

He swallowed hard, and his mouth went dry. “Ja. Yes. I would, I would like that very much, Caduceus.”

“Caleb?”“Ja Caduceus?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Caleb closed his eyes and leaned up in response, and Caduceus met him with silken lips and a delighted hum.

Folsen had been their favorite day of the week for a while, but today, today was the best one yet.

[contre-qui-rose]

for @fidgemimic

It’s been two months since they had wandered into the decaying shell of Ikithon’s cottage in the graying wildlands and found Astrid and Wulf, left alone after Ikithon’s death in the basement that he had spent hours torturing and being tortured in.

 Two months since Jester and Caduceus had spent spell slot after spell slot casting Greater Restoration, Lesser Restoration, Remove curse, over and over again for days as he watched his friends struggle and shake through years on enchantment and false memories until –

 One month and three weeks since Astrid had blinked her eyes open and whispered, “Bren – we – you’re alive?”

One month and three weeks since Eodwulf had woken up hyperventilating and swinging, clipping him in the jaw and Beauregard in the chest before he had calmed, hands shaking as he stared at a world where he was no longer under Ikithon’s control.

 One week since they had made their way back here, to their home in Xhorhouse, with his group and friends, now, in tow.

Things are still – tenous, at best. There are pitfalls of memories that he could wander into at any moment and barely knows the edges of, for Astrid and Wulf, trauma that he missed while he was tearing himself apart in the Asylum, but some holes are trauma that formed with him in mind, and those he’s able to step around, treating them with a care that he doesn’t spare for himself.

 They aren’t at the house right now though. Instead, Jester’s dragged him and Astrid and Wulf out for some “not sunshine because the sun doesn’t shine here, obviously, but moonlight, and talking to people who aren’t each other, and new clothes because if I cast mending any more times on those they’re going to fall apart at the seams –“, and they are wandering through the markets of the outer district of Rosohna, Astrid and Wulf linked hand in hand while he treads next to Jester’s exuberant skipping.

 He’s exhausted. He’d pulled another all-nighter last night, working his way through a copied spell from Essek’s book to avoid drowning in memories, and it shows in the bags under his eyes and the way his feet drag with every step.

They’re stopping at yet another clothing store, Jester dragging Astrid inside while the other woman grimaces, and he blinks as his vision wavers.

He blinks, again, and the grey filling his eyes washes back out to the darkness of the Rosohna day. A hand touches his elbow, lightly, like it’s scared to press further for fear of hurting him, and he turns to see Eodwulf watching him with his brows furrowed.

“Are you – are you okay?”

He nods, and blinks again as tiredness creeps up his limbs and he shifts, balance gone, before sitting down hard on the cobblestones.

A hand presses against his forehead, and he swats at it, blinking his eyes back open from where they had been closed.

“I think you have a fever, Bren. Did you – you didn’t sleep last night.”

He blinks, again, and Eodwulf groans, scraping a hand down his chin. “You didn’t eat this morning, either, did you.”

“Nein. Didn’t – stomach was bothering me.”

It’s cold out here, all of a sudden. Like ice pressing against his veins and making the old breaks in his fingers ache.

Maybe if he –

With a detached sense of purpose, his hands catch fire, and he enjoys the warmth for a few moments before Eodwulf’s larger hands cover his, snuffing out the flames.

He frowns, blinking up at him, but Eodwulf’s frowning right back. He sits down on the cobblestones next to him, and he tucks his head against his friend’s neck.

Eodwulf gathers his hands in his, and slowly massages some of the tension out. It feels less like ice, now.

It’s nice.

Jester and Astrid emerge from the store a few minutes later, Jester holding a bundle of colorful fabric while Astrid stares, bemused and strangely fond.

Jester pouts at seeing him leaning against Eodwulf. “Caleb,” she sings, “Did you trip? If I need to heal you when there wasn’t even a fight, Caduceus is going to be so disappointed – oh.” She takes in his flushed cheeks, how his eyes are glazed slightly, the shake in his hands that he can’t quite quell.

“Shit. I didn’t prepare lesser restoration today – can you wait till we get back to the house, caleb? I think Cad grabbed that one today.”

He nods, blinking fuzziness out his eyes, and stands up.

Well.

Tries to, at least, because the instant he’s upright his vision tilts and he finds himself falling back against Eodwulf, the world spinning around him.

At least he manages not to vomit.

Eodwulf catches him, and then, with a slow breath, keeps him pressed against his side.

“Bren, do you want me to carry out?”

Oh. That would be – nice.

He nods, against Wulf’s shoulder, and then obligingly hops up on Wulf’s back as the other man slides his arms under his legs, now slung across his back.

He sighs, and closes his eyes, pressing his head against Wulf’s neck.

He’s sure he’ll be embarrassed about showing this much affection later, when Astrid is free to tease him about it and Jester pokes him.

But for now – he’s dizzy but safe on Wulf’s back, and he keeps his eyes closed, secure in the knowledge that his friend won’t let him fall.

Perks of having a boyfriend best friend that’s buff: being carried.

Other things, too, but that one’s a big plus.

[grimelords]

My July playlist is here, just in time for September! Four hours of hits from Lana Del Rey, Iannis Xenakis, KISS, Cameo and everyone in between. Please enjoy.

This Is What Makes Us Girls - Lana Del Rey: This is a really underrated Lana song I think. It's such a beautiful song and it's so heartbreaking the way she sings "they were the only friends I ever had". It's like an origin story for her whole thing detailing how she got bitten by a radioactive pabst, I love it.

Walking Into Sunshine (Larry Levan 12" Mix) - Central Line: A powerful good mood song that quickly takes on a vibe shift near the end when he says I've got to do it now, I've got to walk into the sun' which carries a different meaning than 'walk into the sunshine' to me. Embracing positivity versus self immolation in a nuclear furnace.

Fine di Cobb - Stelvio Cipriani: This is the most jamming harpsichord I think I have ever heard. This is from the soundtrack to an italian cop film called Mark il Poliziotto (Mark The Narc) that I found in a spotify playlist called Best Of Eurocrime that I cannot recommend enough. https://open.spotify.com/user/cinevox/playlist/1o3c0Con0ormlKc9r1gqxgSince 

Last Wednesday - Highasakite: Highasakite might be the worst band name I've ever heard and they're so lucky this song is as good as it is that it cancels that out.

Hilary $wank - Joey Bada$$: I was originally just going to post the instrumental of this because the beat it just so, so good. So busy without being cluttered and nicely melodic without clouding the space for the vocals. I also like this song a lot because just by virtue of being so upbeat it escapes the worst parts of a lot of other Joey Bada$$ 'real hip hop' type songs that are going for a throwback vibe but end up just sounding dated.

Girls - Royal Headache: Girls! Think they're too fine for me! Oh Girls! And I'm inclined to agree!

Something To Tell You - Haim: I'm slowly coming around to Haim's second album and I've finally decided it's good actually. I just hope they do a live album or something soon because their songs are so tightly structured that I think it's almost to their detriment, and every live video I've seen of them they really pull them apart and expand them in a nice organic way that just doesn't come through on the album.

Lavender - BadBadNotGood & Kaytranada: I can't tell whether I like this orginal version or the Nightfall remix with Snoop Dogg better, the verses are just regular Snoop but the vocals they put on the chorus are so good I sort of wish there was a third version that was just them with some other rapper.

New Seeds - Boards Of Canada: Realising that the sound at the start of this is extrapolated from mobile phone interference was a shocking moment for me.

Alligator Engine - Hunters & Collectors: Hunters And Collectors early albums where they sounded like the Talking Heads of the Mad Max universe don't get enough respect because of their huge regular sounding hits a few albums later and it's areal shame because this song is pure primal funk.

Fly Like An Eagle - Seal: This is the song that plays on the little muzak speakers in the cryogenic chamber for the four minutes you're still conscious while your body cools to absolute zero. Then you wake up in 400 years still humming it.

Come To Dust - Boards Of Canada: I was having such a huge moment with this album this month and lamenting the imminent end of our favourite earth The Earth, and this is really such a peaceful sort of resolute song right near the end of the album before the real ending of Semena Mertvykh makes you feel like a body dumped in the desert for scientific research into the nature of decomposition.

Kiss You All Over - Millie Jackson: I'm still not sure how I feel about this new Millie Jackson album that's old multitracks re-mixed by Steve Levine. The whole thing sounds kind of whack. What's good however, is when she adlibs "I wanna bite you on the ankles baby" out of nowhere near the end, and then says "on the ankles.. on the kneecaps.." as the song's fading out.

The Sorcerer - Twain: My girlfriend sent me this song and I have no idea where she found it but I love it. As soon as I heard the opening line I was completely hooked. It's such a beautiful and foreboding song that I really can't get a proper read on, I love it.

Men Today - Health: I'm looking for a chrome extension that makes this song play at maximum volume whenever anyone makes a post containing the phrase 'men today'. Huge wall of noise. Bloodthirsty drums. All the dirt owns us now, what we were ends in the ground.

Where Love Lives - Frankie Knuckles: I'm eagerly awaiting the day coming soon that 90s piano house goes from naff to revered and rockets back up the charts.

Nein König Nein - DJ Koze: This is the B side to Seeing Aliens off of DJ Koze's new album and I really love it, mostly for the groove it get into about halfway through, it reminds me of High Fidelity by Daft Punk where it's just chopped to hell and builds these sort of disparate rhythmic cuts into a really melodic frankenstein.

Blush - Leon Vynehall: I think I found this song and the next one by Spotify Radio off of the DJ Koze song above. I got into a real groove at work one day and these two were the best two to come out of it. The bassline/strings melody that centres this whole song is so good and so circular it could feasibly play for two hours and I wouldn't notice.

Last Land - John Talabot: The way the vocal sample just keeps bleeding into itself is hypnotising here, and it's also maybe the best and most unique kick sound I've heard in a long time.

Suzinak - Ross From Friends: I almost feel bad for Ross From Friends because he's making some really amazing music but he's stuck with this dogshit soundcloud name. The Durutti Column sample that forms the basis of this song is really nicely placed without just feeling like a rip-off, but where this song really shines is in the last minute or so where it magically transitions into a crunching guitar driven thing that sounds like it's playing next door.

Canary Yellow - Deafheaven: The most incredible thing about this album is the sense of optimism that pervades it. This isn't a genre that really lends itself to hope or beauty but somehow Deafheaven have captured it in a way I didn't really think possible. It feels like they've expanded the emotional palette of the whole genre with this album, without sacrificing any of what makes it great.

Strutter - Kiss: I had this song stuck in my head the other day, but I'd remembered it wrong and had it mixed up with the chorus of Lovers And Sinners by Dallas Crane. In my version he's saying 'strutter' the way they say 'lovers'. There's an incredible song in there somewhere, but the original is pretty good too.

Lovers And Sinners - Dallas Crane: See above I guess. It's interesting listening to Dallas Crane now as a new generation is reappraising and being inspired by pub rock all over again and somehow the difference between Dallas Crane and Jet versus Bad//Dreems and Peep Tempel couldn't be more pronounced despite their shared roots. Where the former idolises the glamour of a bygone age of rock and roll the latter are reapprorating it in a more directly emotional, less flashy way.

Evryali - Iannis Xenakis: From what I understand from reading the wiki article on this piece this was generated by doing about five different kinds of extreme nerd graph maths and then turning that into music via more maths and when he finally turned up with the completed score it was so fucking stupid it had notes that don't physically exist on a standard piano in it. Now that's rock and roll. It's hard to make sense of this without the context of its composition because it feels incredibly random, but this performance by Stephnos Thomopoulos really brings meaning to the total chaos of it. I think solo piano is such a good medium for generative-type works like this because it feels like the simplest way to see everything happening without the tonal clutter of synthesised or orchestral sounds muddying the already extremely muddy waters.

Easy Way Out - Money For Rope: I love bands with two drummers and Money For Rope really know how to use two drummers, which is simply use them exactly like you would one drummer but pan them left and right so I can hear when they do different fills at the same time and get a thrill. A really good song about killing yourself when you're old(?)

Sophisticated Lady - Art Tatum: I've been having a big Art Tatum phase recently and it's hard to overstate just how much I believe Art Tatum came from another planet to teach us about the piano. He is really and truly from another dimension. So off the charts insanely good at making a whole universe from a simple tune. It's like every single note gets its own full trip around the block before he moves on.

Stay As Sweet As You Are - Art Tatum: This is an absolute odyssey in five minutes. Without ever losing focus, or losing track of the central theme, it's like he takes it apart piece by piece and reassembles it anew every single bar right before your eyes.

No Line On The Horizon - U2: 2000s U2 gets a bad rap, and it's mostly deserved but there's still some very good stuff in there. This song is so good, and so nicely produced it's a real shame that it opens the album that eventually contains Get On Your Boots.

Tools Down - The Presets: Not only is this song great, but they use the exact same synth sound as the one they used for Madeline's voice in Celeste, which has the nice side effect of making it seem like Madeline is singing along to this great song.

Open Sesame (12" Version) - Kool & The Gang: I've definitely put this on my list before but this is probably the best song ever recorded. It's incredible top to bottom for all 9 minutes and never fails to put me in a great mood.

Peril - Martin O'Donnell: I was thinking about the Halo 2 soundtrack and was shocked to remember correctly that this strange Enya knock-off made it into the highest selling game of 2004.

Drumgasm - Weiss/Cameron/Hill: I cannot belive I haven't heard of this album before now. It's Janet Weiss from Sleater-Kinney, Matt Cameron from Pearl Jam and Zach Hill all playing drums for 40 minutes and it's incredible. I would never have expected Weiss and Cameron to be the sort of drummers to do something like this, but they absolutely nail it. The different styles of the three really meld well and they all seem to lead at different times. This album is the sort of thing that seems like it would be extremely exhausting, and probably would be in most circumstances but somehow they pulled it off. It's engaging and for the most part, driven, purposeful music with direction; which is saying a lot for an album of three drummers just going absolutely hard as motherfuckers for most of an hour.

Apollo - St Paul & The Broken Bones: I love this song but the way he sings the first line makes me laugh because it sounds almost exactly like Drew Tarver's Donny Gary character. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9ArjvUUptw and I'm blessed to have this song about reusing mcdonalds cups play in my head every single time I'm in a mcdonalds.

Million Times Alone - Bad//Dreems: This is maybe the best song about working night shift and having depression I've ever heard. The part about sleeping in the day in the bright sun in a boiling hot house is an especially vicious sense memory for me.

Slow Mover - Angie McMahon: My girlfriend showed me this and I absolutely love it. I also feel extremely old because I just googled it and apparently it's an Unearthed song that made the Hottest 100 this year and I didn't even notice. The best approximation I can make of how I feel about this song is the google autocomplete when you google it that goes 'angie mcmagon slow mover meaning?' and the top comment on the Genius page for it that says 'I cried my eyes out when I first heard this song.’

Drop The Bomb (feat. MF DOOM) - YOTA: Youth Of The Apocalypse: This is the new band from the non-Clash guitarist and bassist from Gorillaz, as well as Jamie Reynolds from Klaxons and I'm so glad it exists because the new Gorillaz album was such a snore and this really feels like what it should have been. Somehow it seems Damon Albarn is not the thing that makes Gorillaz great, it's the other guys which is very very strange.

Word Up - Cameo: Mostly thinking about this song because of Carl Tart's extremely good episode of Comedy Bang Bang where he spoke in the cadence of this and the other Cameo song for the whole episode https://www.earwolf.com/episode/word-down/

Lee - Tenacious D: I don't know what's going on but I got into a real Tenacious D thing this month. Thinking deeply about comedy music for some reason. Anyway this song is so much fun and it reminds me of Tony's Theme by Pixies.

Tony's Theme - Pixies: I love the idea of writing a nonsense song about your friend Tony, who you love, to put right in the middle of your otherwise pretty serious alt rock album. If you know any other songs in the genre of Lee and Tony's Theme please reply and tell me them because I think it's really funny genre.

Burning Down The House - Tom Jones & The Cardigans: I woke up one morning with the sound of Tom Jones singing 'strange but not a stranger' in my head and it took me so much googling to find out it was this version of Burning Down The House that I was thinking of, without having heard it in probably ten years. I like that this song is ostensibly a duet but Nina Persson has such a thin voice and Tom Jones is the most powerful man to have ever lived that she's sort of just automatically relegated to backing vocals by default.

Horseshoe Crabs - Hop Along: I heard about this from the Jason Mantzoukas What's In My Bag video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecfWVhz-wyc. I cannot believe how her voice sounds, it's just incredible. The way she sings "baby's heading home" at the start shocked me, it sounds like recordings of three different people cut together. It's just amazing. I already loved this song a lot and then when I looked into it I found out it's about Jackson C. Frank and it made me cry.

Long Wat - Khun Narin: This is another one I got from the Jason Mantzoukas What's In My Bag video, it's a Thai pschedelic street band and it's quite simply the jam of a lifetime.

listen here