#orym is the only one talking sense and everyone else is just like 'well maybe?'

[justalittlebluetiefling]

Sometimes I try to write down thoughts about this campaign but I admittedly have not been paying enough attention to feel confident in my character analysis so I write an incoherent text post and then delete it because I don't know if I'm actually making the correct judgments.

[awaytobeunshaken]

It wasn't quite the same as before. Didn't hurt as much, for one thing. Waking up after his fall had been a bitch; jerking out of nothingness into a body that screamed with the pain of every shattered bone, until he screamed out as well, summoning Milo just for them to tell him everyone else had already made a run for it.  

This time they at least... had known they’d been dead, maybe. Remembered dying somehow, at least. Whatever that fucking wizard had flung at Ashton had taken them out quicker than the fall from Hexum's attic. They still couldn't quite remember being dead, not the way Orym or Laudna had described. And they still felt real fucking tired, like they’d been in the middle of the best sleep of their life before someone dragged them out of it. Which wasn’t totally inaccurate. 

Grass was bent over him, hands on Ashton's chest. Well, sure, someone still had to do the work of bringing them back. "Ashton!" he called as Ashton's eye fluttered open.  

That's when Ashton noticed the hand tucked into theirs. "Letters, you did it! Or she did, I don't really know how it works, but... Oh, Ash!" Ashton gasped as Orym put his arms around them, pulling them half sitting. "Sorry," he said, releasing his grip as Ashton winced. "We... we really thought you were gone."  

"It's okay," Ashton muttered, barely even looking at Orym now as he propped himself up on one arm and took in the space around him. They were in a sloppily assembled tent, presumably somewhere near the battlefield where he fell. Laudna had been sitting behind him, he realized, her hand resting on his shoulder. Imogen, Chetney, and Fearne were approaching now, thankfully allowing him some space but “What’s everyone doing here? Don’t we still need to destroy that thing?” 

“Ashton, it’s done, ”Imogen said. “That was all yesterday.”  

“What?” They looked at F.C.G. “How? I thought your shit only worked right after someone goes down.” 

“I couldn’t get to you right away; I didn’t have a diamond to use. Fearne found a big one digging around through the machinery, but that wasn’t until later. But, y’know, I remember seeing what Pike did with Laudna, and with getting to know the Changebringer better, I thought it was worth a shot. So I had everyone talk to you, and I talked to her to see if she could still guide you back, and... well, I guess she found you.”  

Orym gave their hand a squeeze. “We’re just lucky it was Da’Leth that got you, and not Thul.” 

“So what all happened with them?” And what did he mean by we? What did they want with him after all this? One thing at a time, though. 

“Da’Leth’s back in Wildemount. Apparently a friend of a friend of the Tempest works with some kind of internal affairs group or something? She’s been wanting to get him on something for years.” 

“And Thul and my mom made a break for it while the fighting was still going on,” added Imogen. “Guess they saw where the wind was blowing.” 

“Then why the fuck are you here?” Ashton looked from Imogen to Orym. “Why are you even bothering with me?”  

“Because they’ve been gone a long time,” Orym said. “And I can’t bring them back. But there was still a chance for you. And I don’t want to lose anyone else.” Okay, that made some sense; they’d seen Orym’s martyr complex in action often enough after all. It wasn't anything personal. 

“And you should get to have people with you when you come back,” added Laudna from behind them. 

Unfortunately they hadn’t been drunk enough the other night to erase that conversation from their memory, and Laudna’s phrasing brought it right to the front of their mind. Had she talked everyone into this based on his stupid alcohol-fueled feelings dump? Did she really think this was the main thing he wanted from any of them? 

“How the fuck am I supposed to make this up to you?” 

“Like this,” Orym snapped. “By being alive. I really hope we’ve moved past a place where this is all about trading favors.” 

“Or debts,” Laudna added gently. “We want to be here for you.” She reached out a hand to take Imogen’s. “When you decided to work for Hexum, were you thinking that if you did enough, if you suffered enough, that they’d come back? Or was it because you cared about what happened to them? I know which one would hurt more.” 

“I’ve seen how much you care about people,” Orym continued. “I saw you with Professor Sumal, I see how you are with Letters all the time; I don’t think you’re expecting anything from them. And the only thing I wanted out of staying here today was to have my friend back. I don’t want to lose you, Ash.” 

Fuck you, he wanted to say, to pull away, to insist that Orym and Laudna and all of them were completely wrong about him. That of course he was expecting something, or paying something else back, because that was how the world worked. 

But... they had stayed. Not just at camp, but here in this cramped tent, around this makeshift altar, to make sure he came back. And hadn’t asked a thing. Today, at least, Ashton could almost believe they actually gave a fuck about him. 

They just hoped they could still believe it tomorrow. 

also on ao3

[jinmukangwrites]

Don't mind me, just reassuring myself that everything can still be okay in my own way. This isn't a prediction, nor a fix-it, just me being hopeful that maybe, everyone can stay alive somehow, it doesn't have to be like this.

Not edited, I have a headache and have to go to work, so don't @ me if details are wrong or grammar is fucked, I don't have time to care <3 /lh

Unreality warning

--

The world explodes in a flash of red, and Ashton wakes up.

Well, everyone wakes up, placed neatly inside of their rooms of the Paragons Call.

Ashton takes a minute to take it in. Process. Breathe. The more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense for it to have not been real, a nightmare, and the more he thinks about it, his head starts to hurt.

He looks up at the rest of the group, haunted and understanding glints in each of their eyes. Ashton has no idea how it's possible, but somehow, each of them has had the same exact dream. There's no denying it.

Orym has a hand on his chest, the other wrapped with white knuckles around a sending stone. Fearne has her arms snaked around her gut like she might throw up, her hair drawn over her pale face as Mister chirps worriedly on her shoulder. Laudna, however, has attention only for Imogen, and Ashton figures that makes sense. It's not the first time Laudna has died and returned to life, so of course she'd be the first to focus on the most important thing.

"What, the fuck, was that," Chetney wheezes, sounding too serious and too frightened to be anything close to his normal personality.

Imogen stands up suddenly, gaining everyone's attention, but she doesn't meet a single person's eyes, and the way her shoulders turn Ashton suspects that out of everyone in the room, the last person she wants to see is Laudna.

Before anyone can say another word, Imogen is running out of the room, her dress trailing out behind her like a flame as the door shuts behind her.

Laudna is already making towards the door. "Imogen!" She shouts, disappearing out of the door unchallenged.

Orym stands up as well, shoving the sending stone in his pocket and his face carefully collected. Ashton cannot help but blink and see blood all over his chest, and he has no doubt Orym can feel what Ashton sees, but he also has no doubt Orym has gotten very good at keeping a collected face after shit like that. Fuck, and Ashton thought Orym wasn't a pouder keg. Turns out, he's just better at handling the fuse.

Orym makes for the door, but Ashton is on his feet before he can stop himself, grabbing the fighter on his shoulder, stopping him.

"I think," Ashton whispers, his voice so much weaker that it sounds strange even to himself. He clears his throat, forcing himself to at least talk normal.

"I think we should let them talk about it alone first."

Orym's carefully constructed farcade twitches, lips quivering for just a blink. Everyone knows Orym cares a lot for everyone, but there's something stronger in that care towards Imogen. Ashton doesn't know if she reminds him of someone else, or if she's naturally found some nook in his heart, but Ashton truly does think his care would be better later. Orym's shoulders slump.

It's then, Ashton realizes everyone is looking at him. He clears his throat, uncomfortable as he realizes that by speaking up like that, he's volunteered himself as something like a leader. Fuck. He hates that.

"Let's all just. Cool the fuck off, yeah?" He takes a deep breath. "Let's just... Let's just cool off. We can figure out this shit later, when Imogen is ready."

The silence that follows is proof that no one knows what happened, or what to do about it, only that they share something now, and that has unfortunately made each of them care about each other so much more.

Ashton silently vows to never see a dead face on his friend's ever again, do everything in his power to prevent it. He almost shocks himself thinking about how relived he is by the simple fact that they're really, truly, all alive.

They'll figure this out. Together. It'll be okay. He's not used to being the positive one, but fucking dammit, someone's got to be.