#and wake him up did orym

[screechingfromthevoid]

The short version, just the confession. I'm actually super proud of this bit

[samcarter34]

Since people seem to once again be having trouble remembering the order of operations, let me just remind everyone:

The ability Laudna possesses to feed Delilah is Hunger of the Shadow. In the fight with Bor’dor, Laudna used that BEFORE Orym’s head nod. Bor’dor attacked them and her response was to do the thing she knew would give power to Delilah. Matt even makes the sound of Delilah’s heartbeat.

The spell she used after the head nod? Whither and Bloom. The same spell she later attacked Orym with, which isn’t even a warlock spell.

And speaking of the head nod, you want to know what’s it’s prefaced with? ‘Laudna you can do whatever you want.’ And Marisha responds by saying that Laudna is ‘barely present’ because she’s having ptsd flashbacks to all of the times something horrible happened to her and she couldn’t do anything about it. So she kills Bor’dor because it makes her feel in control of the situation.

And yeah, the 4SD where Liam says Orym thought Delilah might come back. Except y’all somehow took that and made it seem like he’s the one who shoved Laudna over the edge when what actually happened is that Laudna flung herself off it because betrayal is triggering to her.

And the sword. The sword which apparently wasn’t triggering enough that Imogen contemplating whether the Vanguard were good guys didn’t cause any reaction. Or for that matter, make her object to Ashton’s ‘this is permission statement.’ But she saw Orym wearing it, got uncomfortable and then all it took was one sentence from Delilah for her to decide to steal it. Delilah, who mutilated her, murdered her, has been possessing her for decades, and who basically held her soul hostage when BH wanted VM to resurrect Laudna. But what Delilah didn’t do? Tell Laudna to steal the sword.

I wasn’t around for campaign 1, but in campaign 2 I definitely noticed a trend that people who were all ‘I love women! Female characters rock!’ would, the second one of their alleged faves did something controversial (or just something they didn’t like) would find a way to shift the onus onto someone else so she could remain blameless. And that is definitely continuing this campaign, and if anything is getting worse (which, not to get into speculation, but I wonder if it’s because all of the female characters this go round are more traditionally feminine than last campaign.)

I think the reason Orym’s been getting raked across the coals so hard by certain parts of the fandom is actually because of this. Because Imogen’s repeatedly gone ‘what if the Vanguard have a point’ and Laudna agrees with everything she says, whereas Orym’s been pretty consistently ‘no, the murder cult that murdered my family are bad guys.’ And well, can’t go around admitting that our faves did something wrong.’

And so we have a situation where Laudna attacks Orym, but somehow that’s Orym’s fault because the possibility of Laudna doing something wrong ruins people’s lesbian cottegecore fantasy. But the thing is, that whole thing was all Laudna. She chose to listen to her first murderer when Delilah said ‘maybe it’s cursed’ and then she chose to blanket the room in magical darkness (sorcerer ability, not warlock) chose to cast an area of effect spell to destroy the thing Orym was using to sheath the sword (sorcerer spell, not warlock) and, upon hurting Orym, chose not to drop said darkness, which meant Orym couldn’t see who attacked him. And when she got caught, she tried to downplay what she did, tried to say that because she didn’t mean to hurt him it didn’t count, refused to apologize for actually hurting him, kept shifting her argument (and even low key got called out on it by Imogen when she asked Laudna why she’s want its power inside her if she thinks it’s so evil.)

There is an alternate universe where Laudna wakes Orym up and they have what probably would have been an intense discussion about the sword (and that might even have been what Marisha was aiming for before Delilah got involved) and THAT truly would have been the ‘both sides are equally right’ scenario, but that’s not what we got. And you can say Orym shouldn’t have taken the sword unilaterally (but somehow Laudna’s allowed to unilaterally steal and absorb it?) or that she’s being manipulated by Delilah, but the fact is that Laudna’s an adult and is responsible for her own decisions. Yes, Delilah is a powerful and malign presence that they all downplayed/ignored, but, to use Marisha’s addiction metaphor, making amends with those you’ve harmed is a part of recovery for a reason. Because ultimately, you are the one who did that. Yes, it does immensely suck for Laudna that she’s been handed the cards she has been, but it’s up to her to make the best play she can.

Wow this got long, but my overall point is that Laudna is a character with her own agency and makes her own decisions (well, Marisha makes them, but at this point y’all should know she’s not conflict averse and is willing to have her characters make controversial character choices). And really, take all that away, what’s left? How much onus can you take from a character before you might as well go look at a painting?

[fearnesbells]

laudna and grief! unformed!

been a minute since i posted something that wasn’t a meme on here, but! c3e95! walk with me!

there is acceptable grief, and there is unacceptable grief. there is grief that fits as a digestible reaction for those around you, and then there is the irradiating, festering grief that grows teeth and eyes and hands and tries to take everything around you and break it down it so the world feels a little less all-consuming. most loss that i have experienced results in some mixture of the two, and this seems to be a fairly universal experience.

orym is a master of acceptable grief. he has a very understandably painful background that is very easy to conceptualize, at least on paper, for those around him. he has lost his father. he has lost his husband. he mourns quietly, by going to gravesites and using tokens of those who died. but that other grief, the irradiating kind, he very obviously does not do anything with that. that’s what led him to encourage laudna to let the darkness overtake her. that’s what led him to take the sword away from everyone. that’s what led him to deal FIFTY POINTS OF DAMAGE to laudna when she tried to wither the sword from his back. his grief has become cancerous! it is tainting his vision and clenching his fists. he is a dangerous, dangerous man right now. but that danger isn’t discussed, because his grief has fit the bounds of acceptance for a very long time, as opposed to:

laudna! laudna, laudna. laudna broke my heart this episode. her grief has never been acceptable. not in its totality. her death was an isolating, singular event, a death for the purpose of a message sent to strangers… more difficult to empathize with, from the outside. and then she WOKE UP! and she came back DIFFERENT! she isn’t mourning a husband, she isn’t solely mourning her father, she mourned HER LIFE. “do not speak to me about loss again.” her violent, evil, unacceptable grief about her death quite literally grew a mouth and eyes and hands, and it became her abuser, perched up in her head, telling her it would keep her safe.

for months now, laudna’s grief has been dismissed because it doesn’t fit a traditional convention of grief, bolstered by her stretching of the truth. (crucially, not lying.) but imogen still manages to see her grief, and tries to reach her, but to her, now, on that roof, in the wake of that fight in the dark, it seems like imogen isn’t worth enough for laudna to set the grief down. to LAUDNA, whose grief suffered through loss has told her time and time again that it is her only protector, cannot understand why imogen cannot see that this grief is FOR her. it’s to keep her safe.

that whole scene on the rooftop. the gears visibly creaking in imogen’s head as she tries her hardest to divine laudna’s intent, to try and find something explainable that will soothe the absolute bone-deep pain they’re both clearly feeling—and there’s nothing. laudna didn’t mean it, but she also did, and she’s not entirely wrong for meaning it. this was delilah, but it was also laudna, but it was also all of the hells gathering up acceptable grief and trying to push the unacceptable grief somewhere it won’t hurt them. it’s no one’s fault. it’s everyone’s.

“i love you, i just don’t know what to do with it.”

imodna: the narrative ship of all time.

[ladynearthelake]

The Morning After

Because I'm a little salty we didn't get a morning after scene with the boys. But that's why we fic. Enjoy!

Orym sleeps in. Granted, he’s still awake before anyone else, but he hears Fearne dismiss Ashton from her bed as he comes to consciousness. He huffs a laugh before burrowing deeper into his pillow. But the pillow is warm and firm.

And then he remembers.

Orym fell asleep cradled in Dorian’s arms. That ache of loneliness is dull in his chest, and he is more rested than he has been in months…probably even years.

Even still, Orym’s first instinct is to pull away. He’s been harboring feelings since he first laid eyes on the air genasi, and it’s still hard to believe that Dorian returned them even after everything he said last night.

Orym shifts as he frets, and the arms around him tighten a fraction. He can’t help but melt back against Dorian’s warm body. Orym lets his eyes slip closed. He can rest for a few more minutes.

A few more minutes turns into another hour. Orym drifts between sleeping and waking, vaguely aware of the sounds from the kitchen above. The longer he stays in Dorian’s arms, the harder it is to move.

He’s trying to plan his exit strategy when he hears a quick gasp above him. Orym slowly lifts his head, resting his chin on Dorian’s bare chest. The genasi is braced up on an elbow, regarding Orym with wonder in his bright eyes. He bites his lower lip, clearly trying to think of the perfect thing to say.

Orym saves him from himself. He moves forward and kisses Dorian, softly and sweetly. He pulls away before pressing another to the corner of Dorian’s mouth before nuzzling under the genasi’s chin, his smaller body splayed over Dorian’s chest. He relishes the rise and fall of Dorian’s breathing.

“I don’t know what to say either,” Orym whispers into his neck.

Dorian shivers. “There’s just…so much. I should have—”

Shoving himself up, Orym looks Dorian dead in the eyes. The genasi goes quiet as Orym cups his cheek. The halfling nods. He completely understands. How many nights did he spend watching Dorian sleep, keeping his distance out of some misguided loyalty to Will? They’ve both wasted so much time, but they’re here now. They shouldn’t spend anymore time on self flagellation.

Eyes shining, Dorian cups the back of Orym’s head and kisses him again. It’s short and sweet. Dorian pulls away and rests his forehead against Orym’s. The halfling brushes his nose against the genasi’s before getting off the bed. He moves to start dressing, but Dorian beats him to his clothes and armor.

Dorian has watched Orym don his armor many mornings on the road together, so he manages to dress the halfling with ease. His clever fingers fasten each buckle with care. When he’s finished, Dorian rests his large hand on Orym’s chest. Orym grips Dorian’s wrist.

“Let’s get this done. I’d really like to do this again.”

Dorian laughs, his eyes darting to the ground before taking Orym in again. “Yeah, me too.”

They move closer, but the piercing call of the pretty blue tiefling woman freezes them in space. Breakfast is ready, and then it's time to save the world.

[beauregardlionett]

did i rant to my friends about dorian and orym just to be called a simp? yes i did. and i'll do it again.

these two characters? consume my waking thoughts. because just fucking think about this from a timeline/literary point of view for a second with me.

orym lost his husband and his father-in-law (who he always calls dad because he didn't have a dad growing up) in a violent attack on his leader a while ago and whatever magic was used to kill them kept them dead - no reviving magic worked to bring them back. in the space of a single attack, he lost two of the most important people in his life, and now he's a widow who still mourns and loves in equal measure even while far from home trying to save the world. he loves even though he's scared of losing again.

dorian is a runaway heir to a title he never really wanted, a musician for himself, a charlatan hiding behind an easy smile, who has really only ever wanted to see the world in his own time and make real friends for once in his life. and he did that! all on his own! he was with the group at the beginning of the campaign but then they ran into his older brother who was in trouble and needed to lay low and dorian went with him, falling back on old instincts that family by blood comes first. he ran from the group and from the foundations he was building with them. because dorian has only ever run from the things that scare him. but now he's back, re-traced his frightened footsteps toward the daunting promise of tomorrow - not yet with the group, we're getting his side of the story first. and he even said it himself, that he ran from the group and now he's not sure why he did it, why he left, when he stands here now and realizes everything he wanted was already in front of him.

they have sending stones, a once a day chance to say something to each other in 25 words or less. they've been using them, keeping each other updated on where they are, that they're still alive, and kindling this flame even without dorian at the table, without even seeing each other, and liam has been carrying this torch alone for 78 episodes but damn it the flame is still lit regardless!

and orym always updates on their progress and location first, and with whatever words he has left he drops in a sentiment to remind dorian that they still care - that orym still cares. and orym is practical through and through, he's a strategist so he always always always uses his words wisely because he's so fucking limited by this spell but the last message he sent? he repeated himself, he admitted a weakness, he faltered.

he told dorian where they were. he asked if dorian could come their way. he admitted to struggling while his voice broke. he asked again but in a different way if dorian could come their way. he ended the message with the most heartbreaking "fuck, i miss you," i have ever heard in my life.

orym, the man who messaged dorian 52 episodes ago and said "glad you're not here, wish you were anyway." because they're constantly in danger, and he wouldn't wish that on dorian, but he still aches to have him near. orym, the man who confessed 13 episodes ago during a trial with his friends that he's lonely, that he misses dorian and sometimes he thinks it's okay and sometimes he doesn't - because he was married and is still mourning and how dare he have feelings for someone else? how dare he move on even when his husband would WANT him to be happy again? he indicated dorian was missed by everyone in three of his previous messages before the trial, before finally shifting to 'I, orym, me - it's me who misses you'.

and dorian, the one who replied to a message orym sent him with "stay steadfast, sending you fairer winds" in the most longing tone i have EVER heard. dorian, who kissed orym's forehead when they parted ways but that is the closest they have come to acknowledging whatever is between them. dorian, who has been to orym's home between exu and c3 and met orym's mom and knows about orym's husband.

when orym died 58 episodes ago, he went limp and the sending stone slipped out of his hand because he was trying to message dorian before he died, before he ran out of words and breath. before he was revived, there was a moment he stood in the beyond and saw his husband and he told orym "you're not done," and orym said "i really wish i could stay," and then his husband said "i'll still be here," and orym said, heartbroken, "oh, i miss you so bad."

he told dorian, "i've really missed you," and "fuck, i miss you." i miss you is orym's way of saying i love you.

they're so close. they are so close. and orym fully died 19 episodes after dorian left, but he was revived and then never told dorian via sending that happened. part of me wants dorian to find out and the other part hopes he never has to feel like he failed orym by leaving. because nothing could have changed that from happening, not even dorian.

they are so close to reuniting, orym has needed dorian back for WEEKS and he's so close. i'm begging them to hold on so they can hold each other again.

and, again, from a literary point of view, you know the wildest part about all of this?

none of it is scripted.

[stay-funky-ponyboy]

Usually, sunlight hits his face by now.

There are no windows here to determine what time it is, but his body is used to waking up early.

His eyes flutter open, greeted with a sight that makes his heart soar.

Orym lies curled into him. His eyes are closed, and he breathes evenly. Their fingers are still laced together, and he is glad to still his lungs, to prevent a lofty exhale from escaping him.

He could stare at this forever, he realizes.

They don't have forever though.

The dark thought is cast aside. He needs to be in the present. He can't be weighed down by anything. He's been walking on clouds ever since he fell asleep to the sound of Orym's breathing.

A small shuffle happens close by. He has to strain his ears to really hear what it is, but he surmises it may be Ashton sneaking back to their room.

Typically, he watches the sunrise. It’s something he’s always enjoyed. He doesn’t want to get up right now, if that means leaving the comfort of this embrace.

If Ashton’s sneaking off to his room, and the slow footfalls of others are anything to go by, he guesses that the Nein, or at least some of them are early risers. It’s likely he only has maybe an hour or so left with Orym. Before they must return to reality. A fuzzy future.

For now, time is more soupy. The next couple of seconds feel like minutes. Minutes feel like hours. He knows it's a silly thought, but he wants to live in this almost timeless moment forever.

And yet. All good things come to an end.

Orym moves a little, and Dorian vows to do his best to commit every movement to memory.

Slowly, Orym opens his eyes. He looks up at Dorian, his green eyes alluring. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Orym eyes sharpen, taking in their surroundings. He sits up. It’s too quick of an awakening for his liking. Like Orym has to be ready at all times. He immediately regrets feeling upset, because it is not really Orym’s fault he is predisposed to act that way.

He looks at Dorian. “I forget sometimes.. That you can do that.”

Confusion hits him, but then he remembers he isn't breathing. He uses that moment to exhale once again. “It can be helpful.”

“Yeah,” Orym says, a flush coming over his cheeks. Now, this is new. This is going to be their normal from now on, isn’t it? Learning about each other, being comfortable with each other, open about their attraction? Dorian delights at the prospect.

He believes he has an idea of what Orym may be thinking, due to the sudden flush, and the way Orym glances down.

Orym’s gaze comes back up to his chest, but he’s looking at something else. His eyes sparkle with amusement.

“What?” Dorian asks breezily.

“I can’t believe I thought you didn’t feel the same way I did.”

Oh. That’s where they’re going? Okay. Dorian tries to match Orym’s amusement, but he isn’t sure how this can be fun to him. It pains him to know Orym didn’t think he might feel the same way, how he probably agonized over that for months.

Then, Orym’s hand goes to the stone that’s on his necklace. He lifts it slightly, rubbing his fingers across the stone.

Dorian looks down at the stone, and finally a laugh bubbles out of him. A real one. “You know, I’ve gotten used to it.”

“It’s a great idea. Keep it close to your heart.”

continue on ao3

[alliekitaguchi]

i am choosing to once again don my dorym tin foil hat and say that matt decided to have the monster attack exactly when it did because it would save him from having to give dorian's answer--which should come from robbie himself, due to the nature of the message.

because the ONLY reason dorian wouldn't've answered orym was if he was dead, and i truly do not think matt would kill dorian (a BELOVED pc and friend of the show) off screen.

but there's also the idea that dorian may have been sleeping or otherwise unable to answer--what happens then? does he hear the message when he wakes up? was it too late at that point? were they already back on ruidus when he finally was able to reply? did he reply immediately but orym was already under the influence of the creature within the lake?

i choose to believe that in the next episode on exandria, we'll actually get a response from robbie, because sending doesn't work on the moon and until they go back, there won't be any messages (i think).

but fucking IMAGINE dorian tries to message orym back and orym doesn't answer and the LAST THING dorian heard orym saying was, "if i don't get the chance to say it again... i've really missed you."

[masterqwertster]

I feel Green 2 and Purple 3 would go well together paired with the Ruby Hells au involving Ashton, FCG, and Laudna. Maybe after Ashton's revived? Just a suggestion

Didn't use the quotes, but definitely got the feelings. Green 2. "You're safe here, I promise." Purple 3. "I don't know how to repay you."

The diamond placed upon his chest shatters into dust, threaded through with divine golden light. It sinks down past clothing, past skin, into a chest they hope will move again, a heart they hope to restart.

There is a heartbeat in which nothing happens. A time that teeters between relieved joy and bitter disappointment.

And then the world quakes, the floor cracking as loose items fall from the shelves to shatter and break upon the floor. The thunk of traps in the manor being set off barely audible over the rumble of earth. Pure instinct warns of something large coming up through the ground. The golden glyphs and sigils inscribed for the resurrection turn purple and silver with a dusting of points of light. There’s something in the smokey effervescence now wafting off the ritual circle that is not meant to be seen by mortal eyes, comprehended by mortal minds. 

Ashton takes a new, gasping breath.

The other powers that have invaded the ritual seem to flow into him with the air, but don’t leave with it on the exhale. The purple and silver starscape swirls in the glass implant for another breath before fading to his usual flickering rainbow lights. His body trembles and rattles against the ground with restored life.

“Ashton!”

It’s a cry that falls from all of their lips, though only Fresh Cut Grass and Laudna move all the way forward to his side. Ashton rolls on the ground and groans, limbs trembling and eyes remaining shut, as his two oldest friends among Bells Hells fuss over him.

“Shh, shh. You’re okay. You’re alright. You’re here,” Laudna chants as she does her best to guide Ashton’s head into her lap. Not an easy thing with her twig-like arms and their heavy everything, but they get there.

“You’re here,” he mumbles into her skirts.

“We’re all here,” Fresh Cut Grass reassures them, healing spilling from his hand upon their shoulder.

“What?” 

Ashton cracks his eyes open, and there they are: the rest of Bells Hells, sniffling and smiling. At him.

“Welcome back,” Orym says.

And fuck, Ashton just might cry too. He’s not alone this time. They didn’t leave him.

“The fuck are you all still doing here?” Ashton chokes out. They don’t know what else to say. ‘Thank you’ isn’t enough. And to be vulnerable– it’s too much right now, when it feels like another kindness just might shatter them, leaving nothing but an emotional wreck.

“We’re waiting for our friend to keep adventuring with us,” Fearne innocently replies, squatting down to pat his thigh and apply some more healing.

Ashton shudders at the touch, the healing, the care. How the fuck did they fall in with people who give a fuck like this?

It wasn’t exactly a surprise to wake to Laudna and FCG here at his side. They have given and taken enough from each other to reach that place where the score is only tracked when you’re feeling petty or need a big favor. And those two have been just as lonely and abandoned as Ashton, clinging to him and each other so that they’d have someone there.

But the others? They had their little group from before, Orym, Fearne, and Imogen. Fuck, only Chetney didn’t even have a fucking home and at least a little family to return when the adventure’s over. The give and take between them and Ashton has barely begun, seeing as it’s just over a month since they first met. How the fuck is he gonna repay them for sticking around so hard they brought him back from the dead?

[You don’t owe us anything, darlin’. Just be here, with us,] Imogen whispers into their mind, pushing soothing feelings into their head. It sparks a faint memory of sunshine on a porch and larger arms cradling their soft body in a hug. Ashton doesn’t know if the memory is his or hers.

The fussing over Ashton only increases as his tears escape his control. Touches that hurt and heal, soothing and aching as they hold him. He wants to pull away, he wants to burrow in. He never wants this to stop.

Gods, is this what real love is?

Ashton’s not sure, ‘cause fuck knows they don’t know what love really is. But they hope to fuck this is it. Because they have it, and it’s worth it (and maybe they can keep it. maybe).

[variations-on-a-flat]

As CR3 wraps up, here are some of my thoughts on the character development. It's not awfully cohesive and is very long

Nothing was ever wrong with the characters themselves. I don't get what people mean when they say they were all crazy? It's not a party of clowns. Individually they each had a really interesting potential.

Fearne and her Feywild/fire connection had a lot of potential, with the possibility a player character would go darkside and how everyone would deal with that. Her chaos and pick-pocketing is endearing, loved that she occasionally leaned into growing up with an entirely different moral compass too.

FCG was our first warforged/aeormaton, wanted to know why someone would wake him up, wanted to see if he could defuse the trigger that made him dangerous (which I know the players knew they could handle after the first time, but I'm not sure anyone ever asked FCG if this was triggering or traumatizing for him and he wanted to take time to turn it off). But him examining what it meant to gain sentience and interact with humans while everyone pressed him not to take a servant role was interesting.

Bertrand Bell was annoying in C1 and in C3, but he had an excellent little closure and opened up the possibility that player characters could die in this campaign, something which can be freeing if the DM and players agree that the cast can be a bit more rotating door as needed (ie Scanlan leaving, Molly dying, even Ashley's unfortunate absences were all memorable and affected how the party played).

Chetney is one of my favorite characters this campaign. I love that he's just there for the ride, it's another adventure. His backstory was lighthearted but had real emotional beats (even his age is so fun, unusual, and plays into his willingness to just live without worrying about living. Also love how every time any of the younger ones come to him for advice he's like, I don't have any! which for these characters is its own kind of advice).

Imogen's story is trying to be the eventual focus the way Caleb's connection to the Cerberus assembly, which would have been a wonderful showcase of the marvelous laura bailey. It's normal for her to be afraid while also loving her powers, interesting for her to have a messy family dynamic, and no issues for storytelling if there's a push/pull between her wondering what will happen to her if she embraces her powers.

Laudna's backstory was also one of my favorites, I thought the emotional turmoil was expressed so beautifully by Marisha. It felt a little cliche at first to have an og big bad return, but even that ended up making sense the more Marisha played with it. I love that the ritual to bring her back involved submerging delilah but that she came back, it felt appropriate for the level the party was when they did the ritual.

Orym is a quiet person it seems naturally, and there was lots of potential to explore what we saw a few instances of, the old grief and quietly simmering anger at having loved ones ripped away like he had. Also, his backstory as an Ashari guard made a lot of sense to connecting with C1 characters to get help if needed. He also had a lot of potential as a sort of outsourcer for Keyleth? Like it makes sense for the Ashari to send a wandering member or allow them to pursue a vendetta and do some investigating. (For him, I also was hoping for more examination of how clearly upset he is to have his family be collateral damage, which ties in with Laudna's story too and none of this ever got brought up)

Ashton had an excellent concept. I read someone else call him a "contrarian brat" but I don't think this was a bad thing! Loved the new barbarian subclass, loved Ashton trying to find his missing memories, really liked having a character who had chronic pain, liked the interplay with dunamancy. His punk aesthetic isn't contrary to the rest of the party either, and I think Taliesin did try to show Ashton getting closer to the group and finding the balance between independence and cooperation.

And Dorian!! I loved the EXU short campaigns and his backstory. However, I haven't gotten to the episodes where he comes back. But he lifts the party when he's there, brings Orym out of his shell, and Robbie is just an excellent actor.

There is however potential vs reality and I have a preference for literary analysis. However, this is also a live game. I don't want to criticize the players. I think they still tried to play within the limits they could, but the game play is something that effects the show since it's all live improv.

From the beginning, you can tell that many of these characters have a deep "scar". It's not uncommon for dnd characters and is a reasonable narrative beat, Ashton was abandoned when he was injured, Laudna was a Thing In the Woods for a long time, Orym lost his husband and father figure to an assassination attempt that wasn't even directed at them, FCG doesn't know why he's alive here and now and wants purpose, Imogen was abandoned by her mom and her father was emotionally distant because he feared her, Fearne also was abandoned by her parents (and had a great emotional payoff of finding them, talking about it, and getting a reasonable explanation for why).

However, these instances were all distant (compared to ie M9 who were in the thick of the aftermath of several traumatizing experiences, or VM who experienced new traumatic experiences in real time during the campaign). They're the kinds of experiences that colors the characters interactions with others and day-to-day life (like Imogen being careful about where she opens her mind, or having to decide when/whether to mind-read), but may be harder to talk about compared to ie Beau's "oh my father recently had me kidnapped into a controlling boarding school where I lashed out and ran away because it's at least my choice".

To compare characters, M9 is accessible right away because they're very much "Don't ask me about my problems (PLEASE ask me about my problems)" with abrasive or nosey personalities that won't take no for an answer. BH are not. These are people who have largely been hurt by abandonment or lack of purpose, who really sincerely do not want to talk about their issues because it makes them vulnerable.

And while the BH members may also be curious enough to want to see what's going on with their party members, there's enough emotional intelligence to go around that 1. the characters will and do back off if their questions obviously make the other person uncomfortable, partly because they understand that feeling 2. they can tell pushing too hard might make a party member want/need to run away 3. they ran out of time to ask these questions with the solstice deadline looming while they still didn't trust one another. So by the time we get to major events like the Solstice, they don't know one another very well and neither do we. Some of the best episodes early on were when the witches all went to flirt with Pretty, or when they all rode horses to a new town, lower stakes compared to Ruidus, but important to the characters, it hinted at build-up to hunting Orym's family's killers, it gave us our first touches of Delilah's influence on Laudna, and also had a fey connection.

Nana Mori's and FCG's trust exercise was a GREAT idea narratively. It was the players and GM acknowledging that the characters have issues they Do Not Talk About with one another.

And it's not a bad thing to have characters who need help communicating, it's just different than M9 who aggressively pointed swords and staffs and fire and yelled at one another when the others did something scary or suspicious, or VM who we saw as people who knew one another and already mostly felt entangled.

Ashton's attempt to absorb the core was excellent dnd, Fearne's reaction was an excellent response. Unfortunately, the "trust exercises" mostly seemed like a pressure-valve, which can still be good storytelling, if there is some acknowledgement still of those issues and/or narrative-consequences for a group that trusts one another in combat but does not have the same problem-solving approaches, and struggles to communicate emotionally (partly why I like Chetney so much is he will admit to emotional turmoil, but also isn't all that scared of talking about it.) I'm still stuck just after their Feywild visit however so someone else might have to say whether we get this payoff or not.

From the beginning there was just a really obvious disconnect between characters that promised emotional payoff but I wasn't sure they had time to deal with it since they got thrown into a world-changing situation. There's nothing wrong with being a bunch of nobodies asked to solve a problem way above their paygrade, but this makes BH a far more grassroots team than VM (which was heirs to several legacies, tops of their fields, or related to sources of power proving themselves as devoted to Isylra at large) or M9 (which was full of more normal people, but still those who were many students to great powers, or related to some really unique sources of power). When you're grassroots, especially if they're making decisions for a whole world, it makes sense to have interacted with npc's? (the players are the world so it's a little strangely meta where the players need to be okay with this and they're the ones who count, but from a character POV it would make sense to perhaps know some farmers or craftsmen of Jrusar or the riders of Bassuras thing about the gods and religion etc)

However, I do understand that BH at this point knows more about Predathos and the gods, which is hard to pitch to normal people npc's, and they're in a weird place where the more powerful people might just kill them if they try to have this conversation.

To compare characters, M9 is accessible right away because they're very much "Don't ask me about my problems (PLEASE ask me about my problems)" with abrasive or nosey personalities that won't take no for an answer. BH are not. These are people who have largely been hurt by abandonment or lack of purpose, who really sincerely do not want to talk about their issues because it makes them vulnerable.

And while the BH members may also be curious enough to want to see what's going on with their party members, there's enough emotional intelligence to go around that 1. the characters will and do back off if their questions obviously make the other person uncomfortable, partly because they understand that feeling 2. they can tell pushing too hard might make a party member want/need to run away 3. they ran out of time to ask these questions with the solstice deadline looming while they still didn't trust one another. So by the time we get to major events like the Solstice, they don't know one another very well and neither do we. Some of the best episodes early on were when the witches all went to flirt with Pretty, or when they all rode horses to a new town, lower stakes compared to Ruidus, but important to the characters, it hinted at build-up to hunting Orym's family's killers, it gave us our first touches of Delilah's influence on Laudna, and also had a fey connection.

Nana Mori's and FCG's trust exercise was a GREAT idea narratively. It was the players and GM acknowledging that the characters have issues they Do Not Talk About with one another.

And it's not a bad thing to have characters who need help communicating, it's just different than M9 who aggressively pointed swords and staffs and fire and yelled at one another when the others did something scary or suspicious, or VM who we saw as people who knew one another and already mostly felt entangled.

Ashton's attempt to absorb the core was excellent dnd, Fearne's reaction was an excellent response. Unfortunately, the "trust exercises" mostly seemed like a pressure-valve, which can still be good storytelling, if there is some acknowledgement still of those issues and/or narrative-consequences for a group that trusts one another in combat but does not have the same problem-solving approaches, and struggles to communicate emotionally (partly why I like Chetney so much is he will admit to emotional turmoil, but also isn't all that scared of talking about it.) I'm still stuck just after their Feywild visit however so someone else might have to say whether we get this payoff or not.

From the beginning there was just a really obvious disconnect between characters that promised emotional payoff but I wasn't sure they had time to deal with it since they got thrown into a world-changing situation. There's nothing wrong with being a bunch of nobodies asked to solve a problem way above their paygrade, but this makes BH a far more grassroots team than VM (which was heirs to several legacies, tops of their fields, or related to sources of power proving themselves as devoted to Isylra at large) or M9 (which was full of more normal people, but still those who were many students to great powers, or related to some really unique sources of power). When you're grassroots, especially if they're making decisions for a whole world, it makes sense to have interacted with npc's? (the players are the world so it's a little strangely meta where the players need to be okay with this and they're the ones who count, but from a character POV it would make sense to perhaps know some farmers or craftsmen of Jrusar or the riders of Bassuras thing about the gods and religion etc)

However, I do understand that BH at this point knows more about Predathos and the gods, which is hard to pitch to normal people npc's, and they're in a weird place where the more powerful people might just kill them if they try to have this conversation.

[cassafrasscr]

I think it's worth remembering that for all that Orym leans towards kindness as much as he can, he's always been a stark pragmatist in the face of existential threats.

Like, he has a reputation for being 'the nice guy', but... he straight-up threatened Dorian back in EXU Prime over the Spider Queen's crown. I feel like people keep forgetting about that?

IIRC, Liam said Orym was so hard on Dorian because he believes in Dorian's goodness and was worried that the crown's power would corrupt him (and on some level, it did - Dorian's alignment was changed by it, going from Chaotic Good to Chaotic Neutral).

I'm seeing a lot of parallels between that and Orym’s relationship with Imogen now. He’s said before that he'd be proud to have a daughter like Imogen. He's asserted repeatedly that he believes in her and has faith she won't betray them. He needs her at his side in this fight.

(All things he also said to Ashton in the wake of Shardgate, btw.)

Like Orym said in the Honesty Trial - he has all the faith in the world in his friends... and has also seriously considered how best to neutralize all of them. He’s been this way from the beginning.

Orym loves his friends - don't forget, he sold his life away to Nana Morri for the ability to protect them on this mission. But at the end of the day, he can't protect them from themselves. If they give in to their worst impulses and become a threat to others, he'd rather take them out himself than let them do harm to innocent people.

(For what it's worth, I don't think he was pressuring Imogen to dive right back into Predathos' mind right away - what I got from what he said was that he's pressuring Imogen to stay on this mission rather than running away completely. It's dangerous and scary, but he needs her to gather her courage and steel herself to keep going anyway. She's powerful and important, and Orym's feels that he's just a regular guy with a sword. He can’t do this without her.

Orym’s not always the best communicator, and tensions were high in the moment. I think it was mostly a misunderstanding/miscommunication about what his exact intentions were with that speech.)

[towards-toramunda]

I just saw this post: https://www.tumblr.com/multifandom-damnation/734280499157221376/laudna-who-died-in-such-a-terrible-violent-way and as an Ashton and Laudna fan I'd love to hear your thoughts because I feel feral tbh

Heyo I just read through the post, and I honestly don’t know how I feel. Like I agree, but I don’t? Cause this time Ashton woke up surrounded by people who are pissed and angry and distrustful towards him, but they stayed and thats gotta count for something.

Last time Ashton was abandoned out of self preservation from the other nobodies. He didn’t do anything morally wrong, just got caught in a trap that left them on the ground bleeding out as a liability, but this time they fucked over their friends and they know it. They hurt the bell’s hells and they KNOW it, and yet the hells stayed.

But its also more complicated than that because right after coming back Fearne tried to bash his head in and break their hammer, FCG told them they didn’t think he cared about anyone but themselves, Chet told him to leave, Laudna ran away because the eldritch horrors in her mind were making her want to kill him, and Orym didn’t say a word (I know its bc Liam was out but… for character reasons Orym has been silent to Ashton).

But Imogen, angry as she was, just wanted to understand why he did it. Stayed with them even as Laudna ran off clearly not okay. She cared. FCG, even as upset as he was, stayed, explained how he felt and why he felt that way, and asked for better. Chet was harsh as hell, but when Ashton stayed and committed even in a small way to be better he was the first to back them up. Fearne talked to them, and came back, and is still very very angry, but there’s a possibility for growth. And Laudna, after running away from them for fear of betrayal and becoming murderous, made them a doll. She made them something they’ve never had before. She wouldn’t do that if she didn’t care for him (I think thats why they cried. Because he did this shitty thing, but she made him a gift and that showed she cared). She called him a child and said she likes children. (And Orym still hasn’t talked but… we’ll hopefully get to that next episode).

So… yes? It’s bad that Ashton didn’t wake up after dying a second time surrounded by loving friends who went to the ends of exandria for them like Laudna, and maybe they’ll hold some kinda resentment about that, but (unlike Laudna’s second coming) he’s surrounded by friends who he severely fucked over but they stayed.

They told him he could stay.

That they wanted to make things better.

They paused their very important mission to scout on the moon and prevent the end of the world to go on a feywild vacation because they wanted the group to be okay. Even after Ashton fucked up so fucking much.

And isn’t that in itself just fucking beautiful?

Isn’t that proof of some kinda love? Of family even?

I’m not saying Ashton isn’t in a bad place right now they obviously are, but their friends have just proved that they’re not leaving him if they can help it.

[utilitycaster]

In regards to episode 92, I feel like they could've kept the shock factor and had that reveal of aabria right at the end of the episode, allowed bh to reach the encampment and continue their discussions even if the episode was shorter than usual and still end with orym sending to dorian (I wonder if liam knew that him sending to dorian was going to kick-start the swap) and sending everyone off screen to allow aabria to come in and send everyone off like she did. Plus, then we could've gotten a post credits description like we would get in the EXU episodes, and I feel like it would've tied in better + the people who were anticipating this episode would've felt more satisfied

Hey anon!

So I agree with you on this. I do think at this point I'm going to make a moratorium on "here's how they could have done it differently" anons just because I feel like I've covered it pretty thoroughly. Let the below indicate my general feelings in one neat summarized place; anons are still welcome to chat about other things but at this point what's done is done, we'll see the end of that combat in a couple weeks before returning to Bells Hells. While I would never stop someone from complaining as I love complaining and think refusal to do so or shaming thereof is unhealthy, I also think there's a point where you need to say "ok, this isn't really productive anymore" and to be clear, I'm not saying you've reached that point, but I think I probably have.

I was incredibly excited for a Bells Hells episode in the wake of FCG's heroic sacrifice and an exploration of their grief and anger and complicated feelings and loved the first half so I do feel rather like Lucy yanked away that particular football while I was mid-kick.

I'm not opposed to experimentation with the format, and some of it has been great, but I think a lot of what has made this campaign harder to connect to at times has been that it feels like it keeps accelerating and then supddenly pumping the breaks at odd times and this is yet another case

I liked EXU Prime and Kymal well enough (and that well enough is doing, to be honest, heavy lifting) and I really like the Crown Keepers as characters but I have always, from the start, been like "so are we going to discuss the uh, week-long memory loss or the Blightstar as a ship that carried a vestige and showed up in the port of Emon with everyone dead? are the Nameless Ones going to ever have like. motives other than 'be a cast of thousands that serves as an obstacle'?" and so, while the biggest complaint is, again, "Not Now" it's also like...you're giving me something that I've always had a potent combination of fondness and exasperation for and you're driving the needle further into the exasperation zone. To be clear: some of this might be addressed next episode! I really hope it is! But if it's not it's like well I saw these characters I like but the plot still is focusing on everything I care least about.

I actually do not like the post-credits descriptions in EXU Prime. I feel they're symptomatic of the above reservations about the Crown Keepers, namely, it feels like we were informed about what was supposed to be the focus without it being earned within the story (eg, in the case of EXU Prime, Myr'atta). I know a lot of people like this, but it doesn't work for me.

[starchildghost]

On Laudna, Delilah, and Imogen, surrounding the events of c3e65.

\\

There must have been a choice that you made somewhere in there, right? So where was it? The lord and lady of Whitestone have invited you to dinner; it’s such an honor for such a simple farming family. How could anyone refuse? That didn’t feel much like a choice. 

You came back - well, not to life, but to something of that sort - and isn’t that a choice? Waking up hanging from a tree? Don’t those god types prattle on about the soul of the dead getting to choose whether or not they came back? Do you even have a soul or is that why you are the way you are? Have you ever had a soul? 

You broke the gnarlrock, you killed Bor’dor, both with your own hands - surely, somewhere in there is a choice that you made - isn’t that what life, or whatever it is that you have, is supposed to be? Are your hands your own?

You sit at a table in Jrusar, a place that is meant to be home, with your friends - with Imogen - whom you spent all that time missing desperately. So desperately you lost yourself along the way, you think. If there was anything to lose in the first place. They talk about next steps and who to target next and it’s all you can do to sit there and think how did I get here?

Delilah. It always comes back to Delilah. Your second (third?) life revolves around her, just as she ensured the prior did. Why did she choose you? Why was it you? FCG once told you that you were never alive, and you believed him. Even in your first life, you were no more than a vessel, a doll that was puppeted by everyone around you. Then Delilah gave you a gift and you bore her one in return, but that wasn’t a choice. 

It’s maddening, these circles you walk. 

Delilah was a monster who, you have heard, acted the way she did out of love. She loved her husband so much she was willing to do awful, awful things. She reshaped an entire city - she reshaped you. You are filled with Delilah, you are a soulless monster, but you don’t feel you act out of love. You didn’t love Orym and Ashton so much that you sucked the life from Bor’dor, you know that. It was never for them, even if Orym gave you his approval. So what was it? Did you drain his life for her - for that deep, dull heartbeat that is not your own yet exists within you? Surely, surely not. You don’t love Delilah - but who are you without her? Can there exist such a love, a love without peace?

Delilah’s words echo in your ears for just a moment, drowning out your friends, and making you jump - you see, at the end of all things, only yourself can be relied on, when all love is taken. Her words follow you wherever you go, whether she’s speaking to you at the present moment or not. Imogen sees you wince and her eyes search yours, but you can’t bear to look at her.

Imogen, you were told in uncharacteristic softness by Ashton, had given you a choice. You hadn’t been able to hear her - you were dead, again, and death is dark and murky and so far away from her light - but she had given you the choice to come back. You didn’t hear her, but when the spell did come through, an unfamiliar wave of light and such softness you had never before seen, you had felt that choice, finally. It didn’t come as a difficult one: your friends were waiting for you, and you couldn’t leave them after everything they had done for you. Whatever peace may have been waiting for you on the other side, without Delilah, was not for you. You couldn’t leave them with a heartbreak as large as that. 

After all, they fought Delilah back for you, something you had never been able to do. You are a vessel, nothing more. You didn’t hear her voice except for what echoes in your head always - even without her there, you had come to find out. You truly are a wretched, haunted thing. Back then, you had dared to hope one day even these echoes would rot, and maybe you would find that you were more than a blank slate others had written on. Your magic changed, just as the Sun Tree had. Just as Whitestone had. It was truly gleaming in the sunlight now, allowing its name to no longer sound like a mockery. You had met children who would never know the darkness that prowled those streets. And they had laughed! Not at you, but with you! Your friends - Imogen - they gave you the opportunity to grow, to become better, just as your old home had. 

And what had you done, with that chance? Betrayed them. You betrayed them. You had killed Bor’dor for that, and here they are, offering you a grace you had never once considered giving him. He didn’t deserve it, and neither do you. 

A soulless monster, a vessel for an even greater monster. At least she acted for love - doesn’t that make her better than you? She had - has - a great conviction, and here you are, bleeding black ichor everywhere, staining everyone who treats you with such kindness. Making them worse. Bringing Delilah back with you, because of course she isn’t gone. She made you, after all, just as you formed Pâté. You cannot be unbound, and maybe you don’t deserve to be. 

Maybe - you glance at Imogen, make sure the circlet is securely on her head, keep your wickedness to yourself - maybe you don’t want to be. Your anxious hands twist around one another, clench and unclench, and you make sure the belts are secure around your waist. 

You find a way to make your mouth move, speaking as if it were a rusty hinge, because you’re angry and you take it out on the others but they don’t deserve it - they’ve done too much for you. It doesn’t matter that they were shopping and fucking and making new best friends while you were revealing to yourself what you’ve always known to be true. You will find a way to be pleasant and to share information with them and to pretend to care about their adventures. You must. FCG hates that you killed an angel of the Dawnfather. You don’t care. 

They start to argue again, FCG and Chetney, at a volume you cannot tolerate with all of this darkness swirling around in your gut. You take the opportunity to tune them out, to close your eyes and rip more of your hair out. Perhaps if you remove enough the guilt will start to pull out with it. 

You’re gently shaken from this penance by a soft touch from across the table, by Imogen’s quiet voice calling your name. “Where are you going?” You choke out, hoping the question is the correct one. 

“Wherever you’re going,” her response is soft and sweet, much more than you deserve. The others try to pipe up with ideas, but your ears are only for her. “We can go see our old house,” she suggests. You cling to it like a lifeline, and away you go.

\\

You’ve always liked Zhudanna. She’s always been kind to the two of you, even if you arrived in her life much like a storm. The two of you were always running back then. You’re not sure you stopped. 

Zhudanna is old and wrinkled and she represents a life you will never have, but you hope desperately Imogen will one day experience. Though, of course, you hope Imogen does a little better at taking care of herself than subsisting solely off of oranges. You don’t stop to ponder where you are in this reality where Imogen gets to grow to be only kind and she lives to be wrinkly - you will never age; you will stay as you are. You’ve already proven to yourself that vessels do not get to grow, and your appearance will reflect this. 

You and Imogen head towards the market in comfortable silence. You’ve been quiet with her before, of course, and that coupled with being home has left you with feeling like a warm blanket has been wrapped around your shoulders. It isn’t much, a small comfort, but it’s the beginning of something better, you think. Imogen has her spark, and she is your anchor - she will reign you in, as she always has. She tethers you to reality, keeps you from slipping into the inky black which fills you. At the very least, you think this excursion will stop you from spilling it onto others, as you did at the table. 

Imogen seems off, though, and you can’t guess why. Did you upset her? That wasn’t what you meant to do. How could you have done this to her? She doesn’t deserve it, of course not, not after everything she’s done for you. Add another betrayal to the list, Laudna. No wonder you’re barely permitted to breathe. 

You apologize to her profusely, trying desperately to get her smile to come back - you’ve infected her with your darkness, after all. 

Her hand keeps returning to her circlet, a habit you had noticed at the table, too. Did she pick that up while she was away, with the others? Was there someone whose thoughts she had needed to hear?  She stops you from spiraling: “It’s weird, Laudna, I can’t hear your thoughts.” Isn’t that a good thing, though? You’re one step closer to a normal life, to… to being able to leave me behind. You can’t voice that, either. “It’s great, but it’s also strange,” she says, and you can’t help but think she’s somewhere far away. 

You attempt to reassure her, to bring her back to you: “You don’t have to listen in to get my thoughts.” You end the thought there, but really Imogen doesn’t have to do anything to get whatever she wants from you. You’d follow her anywhere. 

“Can I kiss you?” She blurts, snapping both of you to attention here, in this marketplace. “I can’t tell if it’s all right or not anymore.” 

Your thoughts stop walking their maddening circles, finding, instead, that there is another path to take. They stop entirely, first. You had heard Orym desperately trying to contact Dorian and that wizard fellow from the solstice using the sending stones, but they would always fizzle and crackle loudly. Your brain hums a lot like that right now. 

“All right,” you breathe out, perhaps before you’re even aware of it. You blink a few times. “All right,” you’re a little more confident now, having taken a second to at least process the words both of you have uttered. 

“All right,” she echoes, looking like her question had surprised her, too. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you. “So I will.”

You don’t have time to linger on that because suddenly Imogen is in front of you in a way she has never been before. She presses her lips, unbelievably, to yours, and she is so warm. You had forgotten how warm she is, having spent the last week sleeping alone. It’s her spark, you’re sure - she is warm, capable, and so strong. And her lips are soft and she tastes of oranges and-

And she’s kissing you? She backs away, then, as if she’s heard your thoughts, tries to tell you you don’t have to reciprocate if that’s not how you feel after all. You reach for her, not with your hands, which have frozen in their cold, dead, clenched place. The only thing you have at your disposal are your words, which are tangled up because your heart, your heart, is beating faster than it has in thirty years, and that rapid beat is not leaving much room for the words to make a sound within you. 

You stutter a few times and land on: “Obviously I care for you an immense deal…” The choice you’ve made this time is the wrong one. Her face falls - she thinks this is you turning her down. As if you could ever do anything but reach from your shadows toward her light. 

You try again, your earlier spiral rising back up before you can stop it. You’re nothing without her, all you do is bad things, you murder, you betray, spilling inky blackness everywhere-

“You’re not a bad person,” She states, as if it’s a fact. You blink, trying desperately to believe her. “You’re not a bad person,” She repeats, her purple irises meeting yours, the wind teasing her hair. 

It’s your turn to surprise yourself - you kiss her. Your hands finally unclench, and they seek her warmth, wherever you can put them. You desperately want her light to fill you up instead, and you’re trying to physically make it happen. All at once, everything you have ever felt for Imogen explodes within your chest. The younger woman with glowing scars who was the first to show any kindness to the dead woman in the woods - how it felt when it was just the two of you camping, how you slept curled around her, not to share warmth, but to protect her - Imogen sliding a ruby ring around your finger - how Otohan’s sword felt as it pierced your chest - how it felt to come back to life in Imogen’s arms.

You’ve never cared much about the gods. Their existence in Exandria is undeniable; you’ve never fought that. There are a whole lot of people who crave a personal relationship with the divine but not a single one is equipped to handle the consequences. You don’t have room for that sort of trouble - Delilah fills you with power and consequences enough. 

Consequently, you’ve never put a lot of thought into what the divine truly means to you. Matilda never cared much about it - she was too busy pretending to be a lady and prancing about the fields of youth. To FCG, the divine is answers to the questions they have, faith in their coin and their goddess and caring for people around them. For Delilah, you think, it was love, but her love was not rooted in peace, and therefore was not love. That has to be why she had the world and then lost it. That fact snaps into you with startling clarity as you hold Imogen in this marketplace - there is a stark difference between you and Delilah after all. The woman who brought you back to life (for the third time) had worshiped a god of light and healing, and she had aided you in stepping out into a Whitestone full of sunshine. Perhaps that was the closest you had come to being something new. 

But this, you think, with Imogen breathlessly in your arms, this is your divine. You will learn how to love her exactly the way she wants to be loved. Perhaps you already do. 

A long, long time ago, she had turned to you with excitement in her eyes, a cozy town around you, and exclaimed, “I love it here! Seriously, Laudna, let’s move here, after everything.” Back then, you had just smiled and nodded. Of course - you would follow Imogen anywhere. It was only logical you would accompany her there. 

The memory makes your breath catch, and she looks up at you, her head resting against your chest. Is this what she had meant? Even then, could she imagine a life with you? A domestic life, full of ordinary comforts, with you? Monstrous dead woman with a dead pervert rat companion? She never could have predicted what the “after everything” would entail, even to this point. You can’t imagine what the “everything” has in store for you both next. A pang of fear hits you, a new one amidst the many that the return of your purple magic had brought. You can’t lose her. You won’t. Perhaps Delilah’s world-shattering love had reached you after all. 

“We’ll make it right again,” Imogen said, referring to Delilah. You realize now that you can’t - not if she will help you protect this. Not if she makes you strong enough to save Imogen. 

“Maybe it’s our destiny to harness,” you have a hard time looking at Imogen as you say this, thinking of Delilah. You have a harder time looking anywhere else. You will use that bitch, you will continue to live with her, if it means you can preserve this little sliver of good that the universe has permitted you to have. Your hands mindlessly drift from Imogen’s back to the belts you have worn all of these years.

“Maybe it’s our destiny to fight it.” Imogen counters, her circlet secure, no way of knowing what you’re thinking. You think only time will tell where you both fall in the history of all of this, and she bumps you with her shoulder as you both turn to get Zhudanna’s groceries. Even that familiar touch sends a shiver through you - everything is different now. “Together either way,” she grins, and it blossoms in your chest. You feel warm inside, even though you know your body is not designed for that anymore. 

She takes you shopping so you can finally get a dress that matches the beautiful corset she’s given you. Imogen, gorgeous Imogen, with her circlet that shines in the afternoon sun, has no way of knowing who you’ve been thinking of all day, and that this corset is reminiscent of exactly what she would wear. Imogen had met her but the once, and Imogen at the moment in time she bought this corset had no reason to know that she had returned. The only person whose entire axis had shifted as Bor’dor’s husk fell from your hands as you came back to yourself, a heartbeat that was not yours thumping in your ears, was you. 

You play the part you’re given: you are a vessel and you are, you have come to realize, in love. You’d said before that you loved Imogen, of course you did, but it took her courage to make you realize exactly what way you loved Imogen. So you will do both: you will be a vessel and you will keep Imogen safe. You must. 

And, as always, with your gray skin and black eyes, your appearance must reflect that. You pick a deep purple dress, smiling at Imogen standing before you, but seeing, too, a lady of Whitestone in her purple dress and corset, her high neckline affixed by green glass, as she hands you belts and a blue outfit.You put on the dress and the corset, holding the belts you’ve worn for thirty years. The belts you’ve worn since you were last really, truly, alive and breathing. 

You tell Imogen whose belts they are without thinking - the words tumble from your mouth cheerfully, because you are glad to dress like a lady, despite everything. “Oh!” She exclaims, and though you were focused on the outfit you do take a moment to realize that you’ve done it again. You’ve been horrifying without meaning to. You will learn not to do this, you affirm within yourself. Imogen deserves only the best. 

Regardless, you attach those belts to the house you keep Pâté in. You will carry them around just as you always have, and him, too, even if he is annoying and disgusting and you hate him a little. It was easier before he could speak. You acknowledge to yourself that everything you hate in him you hate in you, too, and Imogen cannot stop you from this. You will carry around a reminder of who you are and what has happened to you, but that isn’t everything. 

Tonight, you get to go to the closest thing you have to home, and Imogen will be there with you. You will hold her soft, scarred hands in your own twisted hands, just as you have so many times before, but there is new meaning to it now. You will undress, baring your horrible scar, and you will see her glowing scars as she does the same. You will sleep in the same bed and you will hold her. She will try to make your cold body warm and you will allow her to. You will love her the way she wants to be loved, for as long as she permits you to, and you will keep her safe, like shielding a candle in a raging storm. Her warmth, her glow, is not yours to devour; this is your call to worship, your benediction. You are the one who could live forever but you will spend it in service of her, in whatever way she asks of you. 

[waltwhitmansbeard]

"You're going to stay in bed and heal. I'll handle this."

Keyleth and Vilya post-Red Center?

"You're going to stay in bed and heal. I'll handle this."

When Keyleth first opens her eyes, she only sees red. It takes one, two, three long blinks for the world to come into focus, for the golden hour light diffused through diaphanous curtains to illuminate a bedroom. Her bedroom. She is in Zephrah, on Tal'dorei.

Well, the world didn't end.

Every inch of her aches, but that is to be expected when one gets one's ass handed to her by some juiced up bitch with dangerous magic. Still, it's a stinging surprise when she pulls her hands back to push herself up and the still-open wounds on her arms flutter and stretch. She lets out a strangled howl, instantly collapsing back onto the bed.

It takes less than ten seconds for the door to open, and suddenly she is very much not alone. There are at least four different voices talking, faces swarming in and out of her vision. It is all entirely too much until one voice snaps, "Be quiet, for heaven's sake."

"Mom?" Keyleth croaks, her voice dry and cracked, like the desert that nearly killed her.

"I'm here, Keyleth." The bed sinks on one side, and even that small movement sending a screaming pain along Keyleth's body. Familiar red hair and green eyes appear above her. The first thing Keyleth sees is the fear. "Can you tell me how much pain you're in?"

"Um. All of it?"

And despite the very much not-funny state of things, Vilya cracks a smile. "Scared the shit out of us, you know that? You showed up looking more like a pile of parts than an actual person."

"Why..." She manages to creak her head to the side so she can better look at the unhealed slash marks on her arms. "Why are they..."

Vilya gently picks up Keyleth's hand, smooths the back of it with her fingertips. "We're trying, baby. Everything we've got. Nel and her people, they're on it."

Keyleth remembers the attack, the mystical wounds that prevented all regeneration and resurrection. Something tight and cold grips her heart; what if she's just like this now? What if the next thousand years promise her nothing but acute, omnipresent agony?

She doesn't feel the tear roll down her cheek until her mom brings a thumb up to wipe it away. "You're going to stay in bed and heal," she instructs, her tone firm but still wobbly with emotion. "I'll handle this."

Keyleth doesn't even know what this is anymore—did Ludinus succeed? What happened to Thull? Orym and his ragtag crew, did they make it out? And what about—

"Vax." The air in the room gets very still, and Keyleth suddenly remembers that there are others in there with them.

Vilya's brow furrows in confusion. "What's that, baby?"

"He was there, Mom." She feels the tears now, hot and stinging over the wounds on her cheeks and shoulders. "He...he saved my life."

Vilya blinks a few times in rapid succession, clearing away tears of her own. "Well. I guess I need to stop by the shrine, tell that boy how grateful I am."

"I don't think he'll hear you," Keyleth whispers. "I think...it was about him. All of it."

And it's too much, the pain and the grief and the missing and the guilt. She closes her eyes and lets herself fall, hoping the darkness of sleep has something better to offer her than the light of the waking world.

[ravendruid]

"i think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me"

Kiss Prompts I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me.

When Will wakes up, he immediately feels the exhaustion on his body. His muscles are sore, and his brain is fuzzy after tossing and turning in bed all night. He couldn’t fall asleep until the inky black sky started gaining some color. So when the singing birds wake him from his slumber, Will immediately knows he has a long, long day ahead of him. But the half-elf man was already expecting it, which is exactly why he had so much difficulty getting some rest the night before. 

Today is a special day. After years of knowing his friend, after months of assessing his interest, and after days of intense back-and-forth flirting, Will is finally confident enough in his feelings, and more importantly, he is sure that they will be reciprocated. So he dons his armor and does his hair in the usual ponytail – as a Tempest Blade, it’s important for him not to get distracted by falling locks in his eyes – and gives his mother a quick kiss before he runs out the door, a jammy toast halfway in his mouth and a steamy thermos of coffee in his hands. 

The morning sun is already warm on his skin, and the birds sing louder as summer approaches. There is a sweet smell of cherries and blooming flowers in the air, and Will cannot count the days until he has a moment of respite. The Blades don’t get much time off – a con that comes with the honor of being the guardians of the Voice of the Tempest – or at least many of them at the same time, so Will was ecstatic when he learned that both he and Orym were allowed to enjoy a week away from work together. 

It’s with the plans they made together in mind that Will turns a corner, wiping the crumbs on his face with the back of his hand, and sees his Halfling friend already leaning against a tree, one leg bent back to rest on the thick trunk. Will’s breath catches in his throat. Orym’s looks could easily deceive anyone – except for Will, who has known him since they were children – just from his size alone. At barely taller than three feet, Orym could pass as an adorable boy, and if it wasn’t for his armor and the sword strapped to his hip, Will is sure that people would try to take advantage of his friend more often. 

Will knows how strong Orym is. They trained together for years, even before they joined the Blades, and he has seen the Halfling in many situations that could have gotten the better of him, yet he persevered. His perseverance made Will fall deeper and deeper in love with Orym each passing day as they grew up until, finally, his feelings became so overwhelming that Will was afraid he would go insane.

“Mornin’,” Orym greets him with a smile brighter than a guiding beacon. Will’s legs falter, and he almost topples onto the Halfling, but he plays it off a flirting move by holding himself upright with an arm right above Orym’s head against the trunk.

“Morning,” Will replies teasingly, already feeling his cheeks burn. If Orym noticed his faltering step, he didn’t show it.

“So, why did you want to meet so early?” 

“Oh,” Will stands upright as his heart hammers in his chest. It’s now or never. “I-uh… I wanted to talk to you.”

“Alright,” Orym’s kind smile warms the Half-Elven man’s heart. His eyes are soft and patient, with a hint of mischief that Will knows so well. 

“Well, we have known each other for a long time, right?” He asks, more rhetorically than in search of an actual answer. Even still, Orym nods. “And I would like to think that we are very close friends, and–”

“Will,” Orym interrupts him pulling on the man’s arm. “Please sit down. My neck is hurting from looking up at you.”

Oh, how Orym knows him so well. Whenever there are matters of great concern in Will’s mind, his friend always knows what to do and say, cracking jokes – some of them at the expense of his short height – and reminding Will to take slow and steady steps. So he obeys because he cannot deny the man anything, and he sits at the base of the tree, his sword resting on his side and the now almost empty thermos between his legs. And Orym sits, too, not that he needs to, but he still does, so close to Will that he can smell the scent of soap on his short brown hair.

“Go on.”

“Well, I was saying… we have been friends for a while, and I–” Will pauses to rub the back of his head, noticing a glint in Orym’s eyes that he can’t decipher. “I think that I–”

“You think? Or are you sure?” Orym interrupts him again with a smug look. 

“I’m sure,” Will replies, looking away. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you, Orym.” 

There. He said it, and now his entire life is in the hands of the Halfling at his side. Will doesn’t dare look at the bright green eyes he knows so well for fear of seeing in them the rejection that looms deep down in the back of his mind. But the rejection doesn’t come. Instead, Orym, so very quietly, finds his way to Will’s lap – carefully setting the thermos aside so it doesn’t spill over their laps – and holds his calloused hands on each side of his face, bringing his eyes to meet Orym’s.

If the Halfling’s rosy cheeks and shiny eyes are an indication of what is happening inside his brain, then Will can easily relax into his touch and allow the other man to do or say anything. 

“I love you too,” Orym says with the softest voice Will has ever heard. Gods above, he never felt more relieved in his entire life, not even when he got accepted into the Tempest Blades. 

“Okay,” His breath is shaky, coming out in quick gushes, and Orym smiles kindly at him. His mind is empty and quiet. At this moment, all he can focus on is Orym’s warm touch on his cheeks, his smile, and his eyes full of mischief.

“I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me.”

Oh, right. That is something Will wanted to do for a long time. Something he had dreamt for months – if not years – and this is his chance, all the permission he needs. So Will leans in, one hand on the back of Orym’s head, pulling him close as their lips touch. The kiss is soft and sweet, and long. So long that they only break apart when a bell rings in the distance, signaling the start of the school day. And when they do break apart, both men are breathless, cheeks flushed, and with big smiles. 

Will knows that no matter what happens, he wants to dedicate the rest of his days to the man on his lap. He will cherish him, care for him like no one else, and, above all, he will love Orym until his last dying breath.

[stay-funky-ponyboy]

(a speculation fic for what could happen in a future ep, whenever they get to aeor)

They're in Aeor. It's cold and barren, everything around him frozen in time, lost history. It should be exciting, but with the looming threat he knows is coming, he can't enjoy it.   

The pursuit of Ludinus comes to a stop as the time for rest appears. As Chetney and Ashton are snuggled up in a corner, and Imogen and Laudna are wrapped up in another, Essek taking another corner for himself, Orym finds he is nestled between Fearne and Dorian.   

Or at least he was.

Dorian had snuck away a minute ago, and Orym has been alert ever since. Rather, extra alert than before.  

Once he's sure Fearne isn't going to wake up, he follows Dorian to his isolation. 

“Dor? Is everything okay?”   

“Is everything okay. No, it isn't, Orym.” Dorian shakes his head solemnly.   

Orym looks around. “I know. I'm sorry.”  

“I just.. I needed to leave for a second.”    

The air is a bit stale these days. Ever since Laudna's attack on him, Dorian has been on edge. While they've talked things out, it's still clear Laudna is in a vulnerable position. Not only that, but she might be a danger to them all. And still, their mission continues.    

“I'll be here. Don't worry.”

Dorian is quiet again. Orym wants to shuffle closer, but he stands near frozen to his spot. He watches Dorian carefully. His hands are shaking.     

Dorian exhales, and it's a pretty unsteady one. He turns, facing Orym. “My brother is dead.” 

“Yeah. He is.”

“And he's not coming back.” 

“The Tempest tried, I'm really sorry. He did not deserve that ending. You don't deserve to lose him so soon.”

“When I first ventured out from home, I was naive. I didn't think the world would change me.”

“But it did.”

“It did. Now my brother is gone.”

He can tell Dorian wants to really let go. 

“Dorian, if you need, I can be your shoulder to cry on.”

Dorian smiles grimly. “I don't even want to cry anymore. I'm still so angry about it all.”

Orym, without thinking, offers both his hands up to Dorian. Dorian takes them, blinking down at him. 

“Whatever you need to do, I will be right here.” 

Dorian loses to gravity and crumples to his knees, his head hanging. Orym holds onto his hands, squeezing to reassure. 

He expected sobs, maybe even screams. 

It's nothing like it. It's silent. His body shakes almost violently, but the only thing he hears is his own breathing. Dorian's is gone, and though it shouldn't unnerve him, it does. 

rest is on ao3!